The holy court in five tomes, the first treating of motives which should excite men of qualitie to Christian perfection, the second of the prelate, souldier, states-man, and ladie, the third of maxims of Christianitie against prophanesse ..., the fourth containing the command of reason over the passions, the fifth now first published in English and much augemented according to the last edition of the authour containing the lives of the most famous and illustrious courtiers taken out of the Old and New Testament and other modern authours / written in French by Nicholas Caussin ; translated into English by Sr. T.H. and others.

THE FIRST TREATISE. OF LOVE.

Sect. 1. Of the Necessity of Love. Against those Philosophers who teach Indifferency, saying, We must not Love any thing.

THe Divine Providence which hath concluded our salvation in Love, very plainly shews us, That the means to be quickly happy is to love Fe∣licity; and that the way we walk in to become singularly happy, is to esteem (as we ought) the chief of Felici∣ties. We lose all our good hap for want of loving; and our Love through, the defect of well placing it; which is the cause that we daily learning so many Arts, forget what we should eternally practise, if it be true we desire to be everlastingly happy.

I find the great Apostle of France S. Denis, said well, when he called God, The Father of Ʋnions, who ceaseth not to gather and rally together all the crea∣tures into his heart which issued out of his heart. He is, That in the life of Intelligencies, which the Sun is in the celestiall world: but one immoveable Sun, about which so many changes, and agitations of all creatures circumvolve, who groan and aim at this First beauty, the true Center of Repose.

It concerneth us, since we are made for it, and that God hath given us Love, which is to the soul, That, which wings are to Birds, to carry us to it's fruition. It is a riches, which is onely ours, and which would be infinitely profitable, if we could tell how to em∣ploy it well: but for want of well loving, we apply the most precious thing, which is Love, to gain wretched Creatures, as if one used a golden hook to fish for Frogs, and a Sceptre to shake Hey. This is it which causeth me to undertake in this discourse, to speak of the well ordering of Love, as the most assured way we can choose to arrive at Tranquility, and to shew that we first of all most necessarily love, to be happy in the world, and that the most loving and ten∣drest hearts are ordinarily the best.

This age scant enough in goodnesse, and fruitfull in malice, hath of late brought forth a Sect of wits, who term themselves the Philosophers of Indifferency, and who make boast to be very insensible, as well in the fear of the Divinity; as in tendernesse towards the miseries of men.

To what purpose is it (say they) to addict ones self to the worship of a God, whom we cannot sufficient∣ly know? And wherefore should we be solicitous for the afflictions of another, which nothing concern us? This is to make our selves eternally miserable, and to be tormented with all manner of objects. He who would live contented in the world, must love nothing but himself, entertein himself within himself, and con∣cerning himself; and derive pleasure, as a tribute, out of all the creatures of the world; but to take heed not to enter into the participation of their troubles, and should we see all to be turned topsie turvey, so it incon∣venienceth not us in any thing to let time slide, to catch good by the wings whilest we may, and to let evil fall on the miserable.

These kind of people are so unnaturall, that they laugh at all, and mock at the miseries which others suffer. If you tell them of a house burnt, they say it is nothing, and that it is but a fire of great wood: If of an inundation of water; that Fishes have a good time of it: If of a warre, or contagion; that it is a good har∣vest for death, and that there are too many bread∣eaters: If one say such a friend hath lost an eye; they answer he is very happy, because he shall see but half the bad times.

I do not think there is a vice in the whole world more btutish, or contrary to nature, then this obdurate∣nesse; which is the cause I would cast it under the feet of love: and shew you, that tendernesse towards God as a Father, towards men as the lively Images of his Goodnesse, is the principall foundation of all virtues.

Consider first, that all the good order of life comes from the knowledge of the First cause, whereon all Creatures have their dependence; as on the contrary, the Disorder of all actions springeth from the igno∣rance of the submission we ow to the Increated Es∣sence. Now he, who loveth none but himself, and cares not but for his own Interests, maketh himself as the chief end, and the God of himself, which sufficiently proveth it to be the most palpable folly, and the great∣est evil may be imagined in Nature.

It is a remarkable thing, that among all Essences there is none but God alone, who, as he can know no∣thing out of himself, nor love any thing but in himself, so he doth nothing but for himself. For in doing

all for himself, he doth all for us, since we have no good, which tendeth not to him, as to its scope, which subsisteth not in him as on its Basis, which rest∣eth not in him, as in its Centre. Thus did S. Thomas understand that notable saying of Mercury Trisme∣gistus. Ʋnity hath produced unity, and hath reflected its love on it self.

It is not but for an Infinite Essence to do so; but had the highest Angel in heaven the thought onely to behold himself, and hence-forward to work for him∣self, he would instantly be pulled out of heaven, and would of a bright Sun, become a sooty Coal.

What may one think then of a man, who sayes in his heart, I am born for my self, and I have no other aim in the world, but to satisfie my mind with all con∣tentments, nor shall the evils of another ever enter into my heart, till Fire commix with Water, and Heaven with Earth, If I obtein my ends all shall go well? Hearken how God speaketh in the Prophet Ezechiel to these wicked ones. Behold, I come to fall upon thee (oh! thou great Dragon) who lyest stretched out at length in the midst of thy Rivers, and darest saey, this stream is mine, and I made my self. Assure thee I will put a bridle upon thee, and when I have fastned to thy scale all the fishes of the waters wherein thou bear∣est sway, I will drag thee from the midst of the King∣dome of waves and I will throw thee into a wildernesse: thou shalt lie upon the dry land, nor shall any one care to sae thy obsequies performed. For I have abandoned thee to the beasts of the field, ard to the birds of the air, to be devoured.

This sentence of God was executed on the person of the Emperour Tyberius, under whom our Saviour suf∣fered that death which gave life to the world. Verily he was a man, who through the whole course of his Em∣pire made himself the God of himself, the slave of his passions, and the hatred of mankind. He lay close as an Owl in the retirement of his filthy lusts, he was greedy as a Griphon, in such sort, that dying he had above three-score and six millions of gold in his coffers, which he, with the Empire, left to an infamous nephew, who, as it is thought, hastned his death, tearing that sensuall soul out of the body, which in the world breathed no∣thing, but the love of it self.

How can a man so wretched, so caitive, behold himself as a Divinity, seeing God in the heighth of glory, riches and beauties, which so happily entertains him within himself, hath so affectionate bowels of mercy for man, that he thinks of him from all eterni∣ty, he presenteth himself unto him on all sides, with hands replenished with benefits in so great a di∣versitie of Creatures, and hath in generall so much care of all men, and of every one in particular, that he who were not well instructed by faith, might have matter to imagine that Man were the God of God himself!

Let us besides produce another proof, which more evidently convinceth this obduratenesse of heart, and this cruel rechlessnesse of the Philosophers, who teach Indifferency; which is, that all creatures, yea the most insensible, are made by God to impart, and to compassionate. If the Sun hath light, it is not for himself, he clotheth the Air, the Land, and Sea with a golded net, he imparteth it also as well to the little eyes of the Ant, as to those of the mightiest Monarch in the world, he soweth seeds of flames and vigour, to warm and quicken totall nature. If the Air hath Rain, it keeps it not eternally within the treasurie of clouds, but distilleth it as in a Limbeck to moysten the earth. If the Sea have waters, it so diveth them among all the Rivers, as to bear men and victuall in Vessels, and to make it self a knot of commerce from Land to Land, from Countrey to Countrey, from World to World. If the earth hath fruits, it preserves them not for it self, no more then the trees which bear them; but plentifully opens its bosome profusely to commu∣nicate it self to all nature. Every thing, saith a great Bishop of Paris, is bound by the Divine Providence to communicate it self; so true it is, that God hath banished avarice from humane things. As each crea∣ture giveth it self by love, so it suffers with others by conformity. All the world is united and colle∣cted within it self, as the parts of an Egg are tyed one within another; All the members of the Universe mutually love and embrace; and if they make warre it is but to establish their peace; If there be want of an element, as of Air, the Water would mount to hea∣ven, or heaven descend to the water, rather then not supply the defect of a neighbour. It is a law which God hath engraven, as with a toole of Adamont in the bosome of Nature.

It ••ath been observed, that Palmes divided one from another by an arm of the Sea, which had over∣flowed the countrey, bowed their tops one towards an∣other by a naturall inclination, as witnessing their Amity, and protesting against the fury of that ele∣ment which had disunited them; and if this sense be in plants, what may we say of living creatures? where we see cares, troubles, anxieties, goings, and comings, combats, yells, neglect, and losse of body, repose and life, with the sense they have of the detriment and dammage of their like. And shall we not say then, that a man who loveth nothing in the world, and onely studieth the preservation of himself, is a prodi∣gie in Nature, fit to be denyed the Air he breath∣eth, the light which reflecteth on him, the fire which warms him, the viands which feed him, and the earth which bears him?

I add for a third reason, that pity and tendernesse of heart is not onely authorized by God and nature, but it is established, as by a common decree of nati∣ons. Photius the learned Patriarch of Constantino∣ple observeth in his Bibliotheque, a wonderfull judge∣ment given in the City of Athens, where he saith, the Senate of Areopagites being assembled together upon a mountain, without any roof but heaven; the Sena∣tours perceived a bird of prey which pursued a little Sparrow, that came to save it self in the bosome of one of their company. This man, who naturally was harsh threw it from him so roughly that he killed it; whereat the Court was offended, and a Decree was made, by which he was condemned and banished from the Se∣nate: Where the most judiciall observe, That this company, which was at that time one of the gravest in the world, did it not for the care they had to make a law concerning Sparrows; but it was to shew that cle∣mency and mercifull inclination was a virtue so necessa∣ry in a State, that a man destitute of it, was not wor∣thy to hold any Place in government, he having (as it were) renounced Humanity.

We likewise see, that the wisest and most courage∣ous men in the world have been infinitely tender, full of love, zeal, affection, care, anxiety and travel, for the good of another. David and Jonathan, who were the bravest Princes over the people of God, loved each other so much, that the Scripture speaking of this Ami∣ty, saith, Their souls were tied together with an insepa∣rable band. S. Paul was so affectionate and jealous, for the salvation of his Corinthians, that he seemed to car∣ry them all in his bowels, and daily to bring them forth with convulsions and pains attended by joyes and de∣lights not to be expressed. Saint Ambrose bitterly bewailed the death of his brother Satyrus, that to hear him speak, one would think he meant to distill

out his eyes and breathe out his soul on his Tombe. So did S. Bernard at the decease of his brother Gerard. S. Augustine was a man all of fire before and after his conversion, with onely this difference, that this fire be∣fore the morn-tide of his salvation was nourished with corruptible matter of Earth, but after he became a Christian, he lived upon the most pure influences of hea∣ven. S. Gregory Nazianzen saith he more breathed S. Basile, then the aire it self, and that all his absences were to him so many deaths. S. Chrysostome in ba∣nishment was perpetually in spirit with those he most esteemed. S. Jerome better loved to entertain his spi∣rituall amities in little Bethelem, then to be a Courtier in Rome where he might be chosen Pope. And if we re∣flect on those who have lived in the light of nature; Plato was nothing but love. Aristotle had never spo∣ken so excellently of friendship, had he not been a good friend. Seneca spent himself in this virtue, being suspe∣cted by Nero for the affection he bare to Piso. Alexan∣der was so good that he carried between his arms a poor souldier frozen with cold, up to his throne to warm him, and to give him somewhat to eat from his royall hands. Trajan brake his proper Diadem to bind up the wound of one of his servants. Titus wept over the ru∣ines of rebellious Jerusalem. A man may as soon tell the starres in the heavens, as make an enumeration of the brave spirits which have been sacrificed to amity.

If we seek out the causes, we shall find it ordinarily proceedeth from a good temperature which hath fire and vigour, and that comes from good humours, and a perfect harmony of spirit: little Courages are cold, straightned, and wholly tied to proper interests, and the preservation of their own person. They lock themselves up in their proprieties as certain fishes in their shell, and still fear least elements should fail them; But magnani∣mous hearts, who more conform themselves to the perfe∣ctions of God, have sources of Bounty, which seem not to be made, but to stream and overflow such as come near them. This likewise many times proceedeth from education; for those who fall upon a breeding base, wretched, and extremely penurious, having hands very hard to be ungrasped, have likewise a heart shut up a∣gainst amities, still fearing lest acquaintance may oblige them to be more liberall then they would; contrari∣wise, such as have the good hap to be nobly bred hold it an honour to oblige, and to purchase friends every where.

Add also that there is ever some gentilenesse of spi∣rit among these loving souls, who desiring to produce themselves in a sociable life, and who understanding it is not given them to enlighten sands and serpents, will have spectatours, and subjects of its magnificence. Which happens otherwise to low and sordid spirits; for they voluntarily banish themselves from the con∣versation of men, that they may not have so many eyes for witnesses of their faults; So that we must conclude against the Philosophers of Indifferency, that Grace, Beauty, strength and power of nature are on their side, who naturally have love and affection.

§. 2. Of Love in generall.

LOve when it is well ordered is the soul of the uni∣verse, which penetrateth, which animateth, which tieth and maintaineth all things: and so ma∣ny millions of creatures as aspire and respire this love, would be but a burden to Nature, were they not quickned by the innocent flame, which gives them lu∣stre, as to the burning Bush, not doing them any hurt at all.

I may say, that, of honest love, which the wise man did of the Sunne; That it is the superintendent of the great fornaces of the world, which make all the most Pieces of work in Nature.

Have you ever beheld the Forge-master described by the same wise-man? You see a man in his shirt all covered over with sweat, greace, and smoke, who sport∣eth among the sparks of fire, and seemeth to be grown familiar with the flames: He burns gold and silver in the fornace, then he battereth it on the Anvil with huge blows of the hammer, he fashioneth it, he polisheth it, he beautifies it, and of a rude and indigested substance, makes a fair piece of plate to shine on the Cup-boards of the most noble houses.

So doth love in the world, it taketh hearts, which are (as yet) but of earth and morter, it enkindleth them with a divine flame, It beats them under the hammer of tribulations and sufferings, to try them, It filleth them by the assiduity of prayer, It polisheth them by the exercise of virtues, lastly it makes vessels of them worthy to be placed above the Empyreall heaven.

Thus did it with S. Paul, and made him so perfect, that the First verity saith of him, that he is his vessel of election, to carry his name among nations and the Kings of the Earth, and that he will shew him how much he must suffer for his sake. The whole nature of the world tendeth to true love; every thing loves; some of necessity, other by inclination, and other out of rea∣son. He who will love nothing (saith S. Augustine) is the most miserable and wretched man on earth; nor is it without cause, that in imprecations pronounced over the wicked, it is said, Let him not love, nor be be∣loved by any.

The ancient Sages have observed in the light of Na∣ture, that there are seven excellent things to be esteemed as gifts from heaven, which are clearnesse of senses, vi∣vacity of understanding, grace to expresse ones thoughts, ability to govern well, Courage in great and difficult undertakings, fruitfulnesse in the productions of the mind, and the strength of love; and forasmuch as concerneth the last, Orpheus and Hesiodus have thought it so necessary, that they make it the first thing that came out of the Chaos before the Creation of the world.

The Platonists revolving upon this conceit, have built us three worlds; which are, the Angelicall nature, the soul, and the Frame of the universe. All three (as they say) have their Chaos. The Angel before the ray of God, had his in the privation of lights; Man, in the darknesse of Ignorance and Sinne; The mate∣riall world, in the confusion of all its parts: But these three Chaoses were dissipated by love, which was the cause that God gave to Angelicall spirits the know∣ledge of the most sublime verities, to Man Reason, and to the world, Order.

All we see is a perpetuall circle of God to the world, and of the world to God; This circle beginning in God by inestimable perfections, full of charms and attractives, is properly called Beauty: and when it comes to extend it self in the world, and to draw it to it self, it is called love. But if you consider it in the condi∣tion wherein it gathereth together all Creatures to the first cause, and makes its works re-ascend to God, they say it then takes the name of Pleasure, which is a most happy satisfaction of to all Nature in its Authour. So love is a circle, which turns from good to good by an everlasting revolution.

Now, if you desire I should in few words expli∣cate the nature thereof, its origen, progresse, causes, qualities and effects; you must observe a notable do∣ctrine of S. Augustine, who saith, That Love whilest it is in the search of what it loveth, is called Desire; and when it enjoyeth the thing beloved, it is changed into joy. But if it avoid that thing which is contrary to it, either in effect, or opinion, it is Fear; and if the

Fear hath its effect by the arrivall of the evil it appre∣hendeth, it turns into Sadnesse. This love takes sundry countenances, according to divers Circumstances.

I agree all this is said with good reason, yet notwith∣standing we must affirm with divines, that this Oracle of Doctours hath in this difinition rather comprised the cause, the effects, and progresses of love; then its essence and nature: For to speak properly, love is nei∣ther Desire, Fear, Joy, nor Sadnesse; but A Compla∣cence of the Appetite or will in an object conveniont either according to verity, or apparence; But if we will speak more generally, we say it is nothing, but an in∣clination propending and moving to a good which is con∣form to it: For by the definition, we include all the kinds of love which are divided principallly into three branches, to wit, Naturall, Animall, and Reasonable love. Naturall love consisteth in things inanimate, which have their sympathies, and Antipathies, As Palmes, male, and female, Amber and straw, Iron and the Adamant. Animall love, is that Beginning which giveth motion to the sensitive appetite of beasts to seek for that which is fit for them, and to be pleased in the enjoying what they fought for. Reasonable love, is an Act which pursueth and accepteth the good represented by the understanding wherein we may also compre∣hend Angelicall and Divine love, which S. Denis ad∣deth to these three kinds whereof we speak.

Reasonable love is also divided into love of Ami∣ty, and love of Concupiscence. Love of Amity, which wisheth good to the thing beloved for it self, without enquiry into its own proper interesse: As when it desi∣red to one, Health, knowledge, grace, virtues, wealth, honours, without pretence of any benefit to it self. This is to affect with a love of amity, which is very rare now a daies, so mercenary are affections, and when this love is not onely Affective (as Divines speak, contenting it self with bare desires) but Effective, by plentifully opening hauds to liberality, it mounteth to a huge de∣gree of Complacence.

Love of Concupiscence, is an interessed love, which causeth one to love a thing, not for it self, but for the pleasure, and commodity derived from it, or to be ho∣ped (in time) to be dersved from it: So the Horseman desireth beauty, strength, and courage, in his horse and dog; not for their sakes, but his own contentment. Such love is worldly love, commonly defiled with base and animall consideration, nor is ever purified, but when it, for God, loveth that which cannot in it self be lovely.

Behold the nature and Essence of Love in its whole latitude: Now to speak of the proceedings of the soul in its loves, The first step it makes when it beginneth to love, is the degree of the conformity of the will with the good is proposed. The senses, imagination, under∣standing, give it notice of some Beauty, Goodnesse, or Commoditie, which it conceiveth to be fit for it. There∣upon it beginneth to take fire, and to have sparks of de∣sires, which make it to wish the good proposed unto it. Thence it passeth to the second Degree, which is that of Sharp-sweet Complacence, which pleasingly each mo∣ment, holds it fixed upon the thoughts of its object. Sometimes between hope to possesse it, another while between fear to lose it and many other passions, which accompany this (as yet suffering) Complacence.

From this degree it goes to the third, which is inqui(+sitio•• and motion, where love putteth on wings to fly speedily into the bosome of its repose, employing all possible means for its contentment; and if it be favour∣ed in its pursuit, it advanceth to the fourth degree, which is union, esteemed the principall scope of Ami∣ties. From this union ariseth another Complacence, which is not painfull and dolorous; but satisfied, and pleased in the fruition of its object which is the heighth of love.

By the sides of love are lodged Beauty and Good∣nesse, for that (as S. Denis saith) they are the objects and motive of love, which are so allied together, that the Grecians call them by one self same name. The Sages have ever sought for the true causes which dispose the wils of men to love: and there are many different opinions upon this point. Some hold, it is a quality, which God imprinteth on nature; others imagine it comes from the aspect of starres, and from divers con∣stellations; Others make it to proceed from Parents, and education: others from a certain Harmony and conso∣nancy of hearts, which meeting in accord upon the same Tone, have a naturall correspondence. Lastly, the Ma∣xime of Divines and Philosophers much swayeth, which saith, that Fair, and Good, make all loves.

I hold that to accord these opinions, a notable di∣stinction must be made of three loves, which we have proposed in the beginning, to wit, Naturall, Animall, and Reasonable. Forasmuch as concerneth Naturall or Animall love, besides the order of nature, it is God which giveth to each creature necessary inclinations to arrive at their end. Well there may be influency of starres, which bear sway over humours and bodies, and with the starres, bands of bloud, temperature of Hu∣mours, education and secret qualities, which tie crea∣tures with the knot of a certain love, the cause whereof is not well known. For how many are there, who love things which are neither lovely nor good? I not onely say in effect, but in their own opinion and judgement, yet are they thereunto fastned by some Tie, nor can they free themselves from it, but by the absolute power of Reason. Do we not daily find by experience, that a Man who is, and who knoweth himself to be deformed and wicked, yet faileth not by Nature, to be in love with himself? So through a love of Concupiscence he may love things which have neither Beauty nor Goodnesse, although he daily have a blind feeling of some thing suitable to sensuallity, and an unperceivable attractive.

As for love of reason, which is properly Humane love, one may be assured, it alwayes looks directly up∣on good and fair, not simply, but good, fair acknow∣ledged, agreeable to its contentment; This is the root of all reasonable amities, and hitherto those great sour∣ces of love reduced, which are, Honesty, utilitie, De∣lectation, Resemblance, reciprocall love, obliging and pleasing conversation.

Within these six heads (in my opinion) the fifteen means to make one to be beloved are comprised, which are touched by Aristotle in the second book of his Rhe∣torick; To wit, to love that which a friend loveth, to entertain his apprehensions, his joyes and his discom∣forts, his hatred and Amities; to keep him in a laud∣able opinion of our sufficiency by good parts of wit, courage, virtue, industrie, and reciprocally to hold him in good esteem, to love him, to oblige him, to praise him unto others, to bear with him in his humours, to trust him with your secrets, readily to serve him with∣out forgetfulnesse or negligence, to be inviolably faith∣full to him, which we will more amply deduce in the subsequent section.

But if you regard its effects, I find three great em∣pires it exerciseth in the world, naturall, civil, and su∣pernaturall. In the naturall, it causeth all simpathies, antipathies, accords, ties, generations, productions. In the civill world, it builds two cities, as saith S. Augu∣stine, very different. If it be good, it raiseth a Citie of peace, wherein chaste Amities sway, and with them, Truth, Faith, Honour, Virtues, contentments, de∣lights. If it be bad, It makes a Babylon full of confusi∣on, where cares, fears, griefs, warre, enmities, impuri∣ties,

adulteries, incests, sacriledges, bloud, murther, and poison inhabit; and all that, which commonly ariseth from this fatall plague. In the supernaturall world, it causeth nine effects, which are very well figured by the celestiall throne of love: composed of nine diaphanous globes; whose effects are Solitude. Silence, Suspension, Indefatigability, Languishment, Extasie, and Trans∣animation, which we more at length will consider in the sequele of this Treatise.

§. 2. Of Amity.

AMITY is the medecine of health, and Immor∣tality of life, and in a manner doth that in Civill life, which the tree of life in terrestriall Paradise promi∣ses in naturall life with an infinite number of sweetnes∣ses and pleasures: it immortaliseth us after death in the remembrance of that which is most dear unto us in the world: It is that, which giveth light to dark affairs, cer∣tainty to doubtfull, support to tottering, goodnesse to evil, grace to good, order to irregular, ornament to sim∣ple, and activenesse to dead. By it, the banished find a countrey, the poor a patrimony, great ones find offices, the rich services, the Ignorant knowledge, the feeble sup∣port, the sick health and the afflicted comfort. Should a man live on Nectar and Ambrosia, among starres and Intelligencies; he would not be happy, if he had not friends to be witnesses of his good fortune: and we may truly say, that Amity continually makes up the greater part of our Felicities. It is not here my purpose to extend my self with full sail upon the praise thereof, since so many excellent wits have already handled this subject; but, to shew how good Amities are to be cho∣sen, and how to be cultivated.

There are some who make profession to be friends, and know not so much as what friendship is, but Ari∣stotle plainly proves, there is difference between affe∣ction, Good-will, Love, Amity, and Concord. Af∣fection is a spark of love, not yet throughly formed, in which understanding hath some slight passion. Good-will, A simple Good-will and consent born towards some one, although many times there be no great know∣ledge of the party, as it happeneth to such, who of two Combatants favour rather the one then the other, not knowing either of them. Love is an affection already formed and inclined with fervour to the good of Con∣formity, Amity is a love of mutuall well-wishing, grounded upon communication. Whence may be in∣ferred that all those who love, are not friends, but all such as are true friends, necessarily love. The meanest people may love the most eminent; but there can be no Amity, since they therein find not correspondence. There are entranced lovers in the world, who are ena∣moured of all beauties, none returning them love again: which deserves either laughter, or compassion, seeing they may directly go to the first of Beauties, where they shall find reciprocall contentment. After love, follow∣eth concord, which is the fruit of it, in the union of judge∣ment and will.

Now, well to understand how to choose good Ami∣ties; the Species or kind of them must be known; wherein I find that one Hippodamus a great Platonick Philosopher hit right, when he established three sorts of Amities, whereof, one belongs to beasts, the other to men, and the third to Demi-gods.

Animall-Amities are those which subsist onely in Nature, and which are common to us with beasts. Thus (saith S. Augustine) a mother which loveth her children for flesh and blouds sake, not otherwise raising her thoughts towards God, doth but as a Hen, a Dove, a Tigresse, a Serpent, and so many other living creatures, which have so great affection towards their little ones. It is not that these Amities are not ve∣ry necessary, since Nature inspires them, and powreth them into the veins with the soul by admirable infusi∣ons, which preserve the estate of the world, entire. It is good, much to affect ones own, but we must build upon the first elements of Nature; and by Grace and Reason raise the edifice of true charity. Parents ought to love their children as a part of their own bodies, which Nature hath separated from themselves: But, Amity should never divide their hearts. Children are bound to love their parents, as fishes their water. Bro∣thers cannot too much esteem the love and Concord which they mutually maintain together. A husband and a wife are bound to a most strict commerce of Amity, since as God produced a word in heaven, and with the word the holy Ghost: So, he hath been pleased to create Adam on earth, as his own Image, and out of this Image, he hath drawn Eve to be un∣to a man a spirit of peace, and a love of a perpetuall lasting.

There is no doubt, but that to fail in these laws, and to break the Knots which God hath tied with his own hands for all the living, is a vice which surpasseth all kind of brutishnesse. Notwithstanding, the evil man∣ners of men corrupt things the most sacred, and are the cause that some love their own Bloud farre above God himself, and others even furiously persecute them. I put likewise in the number of animall-Amities all such as love one another for sport, for the Belly, and Lust: For they have no other scope; they do not much better then wanton whelps who cease not to run up and down turn after turn, dallying and playing one with another. And such as love their wives no otherwise then for pleasure, do like the male Crevisse, who in his little Cavern hath many females, for whom he fights as for an Em∣pire. All this kind of proceeding smells too much of the brute beast, nor can it have any merit in hea∣ven.

The Amities of men are those which are exercised with reason, and are ordinarily built upon three foun∣dations which Aristotle expresseth in the Treatise he wrote of it, which are utility, pleasure, and morall vir∣tue. Utility, is now adayes the most common Ciment of worldly Amities, and you find few friends who hold it not in much esteem. It is that, which hath raised Towns, Cities, and the societie of men; That, which having raised, maintaineth them by mutuall offices ren∣dered one another in the necessities of ordinary life. The hand must wash the hand, and the finger, the finger. One contributes his counsel, another his industry, ano∣ther his abilities, another his pain, one his pen, another his tongue, and another his feet. All set themselves a∣work, to do service to Amity. I know Philosophers will say, that this is somewhat mercenary; it notwith∣standing preserveth communities, and he who would take it out of the world should find almost nothing in it, but a meer shadow of Amity.

Particular Interest is (as it were) the fift Gospel of Christianity depraved in the minds of many, and is the great God of the Time, to whom millions of souls do homage. Think not that so many busie spirits, and men fervent to make a fortune, care much for Idle friends, although they were endowed with all the virtues of the Anchorets of the wildernesse. They esteem not gods of clay, although they had all the curious draughts of Polycletus upon them: It is gods of Gold and silver they would have, men which may give them whatsoever they desire. They carry these dispositions even to Altars, and make piety it self mercenary; For we see, many are little enough moved to hear of the greatest Saints in heaven, when a discourse is made of their excellent virtues: but, if peradventure an

extraordinary cure happen, thither they runne by heaps, and the saint which is the authour of them hath magnificent Altars waited on by many vows, offer∣ings, and Candles. It is the poverty of the heart of man to measure all things by proper interest, but it is a maxime deep-settled through all Ages in the opinion of the multitude, and one may truely say, that to him uti∣litie is the mother of the Gods. Others who have a more gentle spirit seek for pleasure in their affections. I do not say those pleasures, which we have placed in Animall Amities, but some worthy recreation, as that of the Mathematicks, of Eloquence, of Poesie, of Painting, of Musick, ingenuous Sports, pleasant jests, most witty and quaint. This hath much predominance upon spirits who love recreative pastime, and I think the seven Sages of Greece, should they live again, would die for hunger in that house, where one who can jest with a good grace might make a brave fortune. These kind of amities although they may for a time be sweet to sense, are subject to change according to the diversitie of Ages, seasons, humours, employments, and occasions.

The best men tie themselves to the honesty of mo∣rall virtues, and singularly love one who is wise, pru∣dent, courageous, just, temperate, liberall, magnificent, weighing all this in the course of a life sutable to Ari∣stotles Philosophy, and do please themselves with the familiarity of such a man, and are entertained by a Cor∣respondence of manners, a delightfull conversation, and an affection very sincere, but not extraordinary.

The third sort of Amities, which the Pythagorian calleth, of Demi-gods, and which we may attribute to the most rare and excellent soul, is, among such as mutually love one another, not for ordinary virtues, but for celestiall qualities, graces, and singular gifts of God, and interchangeably love in an extatick manner, to wit, by a rapture of spirit, of heart, and affection, which causeth all things to be common a∣mong them, so much as virtue and honesty permitteth. Such was the Amity of the first Christians, of whom, with much wonder, the Pagans said; Behold, how they love one another! See how ready they are to die each for other: and that which the Poets found to be a matter so rare, reckoning up some few parts of true friends. Christianity made it appear, at that time, in as many subjects as it had men. But at this present, the multiplication of persons hath abbreviated the ex∣tent of charity. That generous spirit (which borrow∣ed the golden wings of the dove of the Prophet, to fly throughout the world, and to sacrifice it self for a neighbour) is waxed cold, and rests immured within its little house, busing it self almost wholly in the pre∣servation of its Individuums.

From the discourse of these sorts of Amity, it is now much more easie to judge of the conditions of a good friend, then to meet with the effects of it: but if you will follow the way I shall prescribe, I will shew you what choice is to be used.

First I am of Aristotles opinion, that Great ones (to speak according to the ordinary course of life) are not very fit for Amities, because they love themselves too much, and make use of men as of Instruments for their purposes, looking after nothing but the establish∣ment of their own greatnesse: Besides the licentious life they commonly leade in a fortune which permits them all, is the cause that good men love them not, unlesse they become as virtuous and magnificent, as they are powerfull. Which is the cause, that being usually en∣compassed with a multitude of flatterers, or of inter∣cessed people, who labour to enrich themselves in the mannage of their affairs, they have very few good friends. But there are some among them, who are en∣dowed with so eminent virtues, affabilitie, and bounty, that they win affections, and find friends, who would willingly offer themselves up as a sacrifice for their glo∣ry. Amity desireth equallity; If it find it not, it makes it: and although one cannot alwayes exact it in an Arith∣meticall proportion, and that two friends of divers qua∣lities cannot be in all kinds equall in offices rendred one to another, yet it is ever necessary therein to observe some proportion; which many great ones do not, thinking all is due to them, and that having usurped the bloud and sweat of men, they are but victimes born to be sacrificed to their magnificence. Which made the great Aristotle say, That if of two friends the one should become a God, he would cease to be a friend. In which he spake as a man, and a man ignorant of the Divinity; For he figured to himself a god of a luskish and proud humour, wholly busied within himself, and disesteeming all whatsoever under himself. But had he known the ineffable sweetnesse of the divine Boun∣ty, he would rather with Tertullian have said, that there is nothing so worthy of God, as the salvation of man.

Secondly, it is most certain, that those who love too much, are not very proper for great and strong amities, for with over much eagernesse to love all, they love nothing. You find men of honour in the world, who are extremely endearing, and who create amities innume∣rable, their heart resembleth the weathercock on a stee∣ple which turns with every wind; they no sooner see one, but they oppresse him with favours, promises and cour∣tesies: but such amities resemble those bubbles of water which rise upon a river during the time of a shower, and break as soon as they grow. Birds, which have yet the shell on their backs are taken with the sweetnesse of their bait, and think they have gotten their fa∣vour upon the first acquaintance; but the prudent well see, that they say to all the world, is not spoken to them.

They do as Plato, who in the beginning thought himself much obliged to a Ferriman, that courteously without asking ought, had wafted him, imagining this was done in respect of his merit, but when he afterward perceived, he thus entertained persons of the meanest con∣dition, He then could well say, Friend, I ow thee nothing.

Moreover, we may truely affirm, that such are never good friends, who too much adhere to themselves, and rest fully satisfied with themselves; For amity being a certain transportment of a friend to a friend, it loveth to go out and readily succour such as stand in need of its help: but the man who is fast tied to his own in∣terests, captived by his own employments, irrevocably squared out to his own hours, is a piece not to be stirred, but with many engines. Adde also to those the fantasti∣call suspicions, and unequall spirits, who daily at least, have some fit of folly; and infinitely vary both in man∣ners and visage, which maketh poor Amity to fare ill in their hands. But prudent, and patient friends, who have need of them, strive to find out the folds of their hearts, to observe their good fits, and the lightsome seasons of their mind.

Lastly, I would banish out of the temple of Amity all wicked lives, and evil humours, weak brains, and in∣discreet tongues, which are not retentive of a secret; the over-curious, the light, the exorbitant, flouters, Buffons, the sad, mischievous murmurers, great talkers, and the Ceremonious.

To choose a friend well, it is necessary he be honest, prudent, of a good disposition, cordiall, obliging, faith∣full, and patient. Honesty is the foundation of all the most eminent amities; without which there is not any thing can be of a solid subsistence. Prudence is the instru∣ment for every thing, and the Rule of all the actions of mans life. Good disposition seasoneth the greatest plea∣sures

of conversation. Cordiality makes a commixion of hearts and minds, which is the principall scope of Amity. Obligations, maintained by mutuall offices, straightly knit affections. Fidelity, which is an un∣moveable rock against all the assaults of men and time, which tend to the division of hearts; and Patience in the defects of a friend, is that which crowneth the per∣fections of Love.

§. 4. Of Amity between persons of different Sex.

I Hold my self obliged by the necessity of the subject, to speak here of the Amity of different Sexes, especially, between people of the world, as also, because many complain, that men of our professi∣on would willingly handle them as Hermites of Thebais, and wholly forbid them the conversation of women; I will deliver what conscience and civi∣lity permit in this. It is often asked whether women be capable of good Amity, and whe∣ther it may be tyed between sex and sex out of wed∣lock-bands?

This is a very hard question for me to resolve, be∣cause, having all my time been employed (according to the laws of my profession) to court wisdome and virtue, and having had little practice, but amongst the sagest and most virtuous women, it is not so easie for me to judge of the humours of such as are bred otherwise.

If we consult with Histories, we see millions of Lo∣vers, who complain of the infidelity of their Mistresses: On the other side, women wage warre with men, cea∣sing not to accuse their inconstancy: and all your feigned Romans eternally chant forth the same song, which were able to tire spirits any thing serious: but it is evident, that these vices with which they reproch one another, chastising with severity, that, which they commit through idlenesse, proceedeth not so much from sex, as from the nature of a shame∣full passion of love, which hath no more stabi∣lity, then the wind in the Spring, and the sea in a Calm.

It is certain, that evil love hath its disloyall ones every where but since we are insensibly engaged to treat of Amity, after so many excellent pens who have handled the same subject; we are rather to observe what is commonly done in virtuous love, then that which is acted out of the madnesse of Concupiscence.

Some have thought, women were not so proper for Amities, because they resemble a cloud in the Rain∣bow, which receiveth the impression of all colours in their naturall diversified forms: besides, for that accord∣ing to Pliny, they are imaginative more then any crea∣ture in the world, which suggesteth to them infinite ma∣ny thoughts, divers inflexions of the heart, tastes, di∣stastes, which thrust on one another as the waves of the sea. They likewise thereunto adde, that they very ea∣sily are turmoiled with suspicions, jealousies, and di∣strusts; the least matters offend them, and many once displeased, are irreconcileable. And which is more, that the most part of them have narrow hearts, and hands nor open enough to help their good friends at a need, they being ordinarily much tyed to the interest of their family; so that there are many who love not so much for love, as for gain.

This may well happen in certain humours, but there are some grievous spirits, who do not so easily receive the impressions of these ill qualities, and who persevere till death in an unshaken constancy of affection. And verily it seemeth, that contrary to what hath been spo∣ken, nature more favoureth them therein, because Love, as saith S. Thomas after S. Augustine, appears best in indigence, and those love most fervently and powerfully, who besides other attractives see themselves bound unto it by some kind of necessity. Now, the in∣clination which a woman hath towards man, is (as it were) necessary: For it is more easie for a man to be without a woman (having regard to spirituall and temporall assistances, as Sacraments and Physick) then for a woman to be without a man. Adam was for a while all alone in Paradise, in a vaste world, but God permitted not that Eve should be there alone one mo∣ment: for this solitude would have gone hard with her to see so many living creatures, and in so divers kinds, and not meet with one to bear her resemblance.

This being so, one may with reason say, that as we love things necessary, with more endeavour and stabi∣lity, so women are tyed with the more indissoluble chains in virtuous inclinations. But not to speak of this motive (which proceeding from a meer motion of na∣ture) cannot be the most generous; we find men, who rest upon Indifferency, and seek nothing but to content their own senses and to idolatrize themselves: but wo∣men very rarely stay upon neutrality, needs they must love or hate, there is no third condition for them; and since, according to the Philosopher, it is fit to judge of Contraries by proportion, we will truly say, that if they be susceptible of the impressions of hatred above all may be said, so are they likewise capable of noble Amities. They think themselves more engaged in honour to entertain them when they have begun, fearing to be disparaged by the multitude of wandring and flitting affections.

Adde also to this, that they are more tender then men, and that softnesse of temperature, is to love, as the air to the ray of the Sun, seeing the affections more easily penetrate where they find dispositions which have already prepared a way for them. Lastly, as they commonly are more devout and religious then men, so they observe virtuous Amities with respect, and enter∣tain them out of conscience, and especially such as are grounded on piety, which is the thing that most power∣fully predominateth over their heart.

I speak this in respect of those who are very virtu∣ous, but as we find, few rare virtues and strong amities accompanied with all necessary circumstances, are not so frequent in their sex.

It seemeth also, that the Examples we derive as well from Nature, as Civil life, insensibly lead us to the proof of that which we propose.

Among living creatures, the Females are the more sharp and ardent, as well in their affection as in their anger: the cuttle-fish takes revenge on that which striketh her male; but the male flyeth if his female catch a blow, as Aristotle hath observed in the ninth book of his living Creatures. I well remember the An∣tients studiously reckoned up the pairs of friends which they had observed throughout all Ages, and that Lu∣cian in his Toxaris, hath strange examples of amity between men, as of him who left his whole family in a fire, to carry out his dearest friend on his shoulders: and of another, who gave his own eyes for the ransome of him whom he most tenderly affected. But who likewise would in particular decipher the notable acts of love, which many wives have witnessed to their hus∣bands, should find wherewith to be moved to admi∣ration, and to settle his constancy. If we talk of pre∣serving a widdow-hood, inaccessible to second wed∣locks, how many may we find of them, even in Gen∣tilisme, who, after the death of their dear husbands have said, (what the antient Valeria did) My hus∣band is dead to others, but not to me. If we speak of suffering great toils of body, Queen Hipsicra∣tes followed King Mithridates her husband, as one

of his bravest Captains, gallautly corvetting a horse, and galloping through snows and wildernesses not to be separated from him. If we discourse of banishment and ignominies, Sulpitia brake up doors and locks to run (maugre her mother) after her exiled husband, among the proscripts of the Triumvirat. If imprisonments be put into the list of account, Eponia was nine years shut up with her husband in the hollow cavern of a Tomb. If you regard maladies, a daughter of Spain, daily with her tongue, licked the envenomed wound of King Edward of England her dear husband. If you look on the terrible of terribles, death; Blaunch, the Italian Lady, scorning the flatteries of the Tyrant Actolin, who passionately woed her, (captive though she were) escaping out of the hands of souldiers, she went to breathe out her life upon the tomb of him to whom she first of all had given her heart and affections. Yea, I much more admire those, who willingly have depri∣ved themselves of all riches, greatnesse, yea even of the presence of their husbands, whom they dearly loved, to procure them liberty, wealth, and honour. Cedrenus observeth in his history, that Constantine the ninth, ex∣ercising tyranny, as well in matter of love, as within his Empire, caused the Roman Argyropylus to be sought out, and commanded him to repudiate his wife, whom he had lawfully married, to take his daughter, on con∣dition that he would make him Cesar, and associate him with himself in his dignity: but if he condescended not to his will, he threatned to pull out his eyes, and to make him all the dayes of his life miserable. The Lady, who was present, seeing her husband involved in all the perplexities that might be, and ignorant what answer to give unto the Emperour. Ah Sir (said she) I see you are much hindered in a brave way, if it onely rest in your wife, that you be not great and happy; I freely deprive my self of all, yea, of your company (which is more precious to me then all the Empires of the world) rather then prejudice your fortune; For know, I love you better then my self: And saying this, she cut off her hair; and voluntarily entred into a Mo∣nastery, which the other was willing enough to suffer, preferring ambition before love, a matter very ordinary among great ones.

Out of all this it may be inferred, that women are to be found very virtuous, and most constant in their affections. But the question I proposed in the second place, if in case it so fall out, whether amities may be fixed out of marriage, between sex and sex, is a passage very dangerous, and worldlings must not think it strange, if I look into it with much precantion. It is a pleasant thing to hear how Pelagius the Arch-here∣tick talks in S. Jerome; For he makes a Rhodomantade suteable to a spirit swoln up with pride, and blinded within the opinion of his own worth, There are (saith he) who shut themselves within cells, and never see the face of any one woman, yet suffer themselves to be enslamed with love, and tormented with desires: which may very well happen, for they are miserable creatures, who well deserve to be so handled. As for me, I freely professe, I am daily environed with an host of women, and feel not the least spark of concupiscence. S. Basil was of another opinion, when he sheweth, that a man, who perpetually converseth with women, and saith he feeleth not any touch thereof, participateth not at all of humane nature, but rather is some extraor∣dinary prodigie; For, as he learnedly disputeth in the Book he composed of Virginity, the body of a wo∣man is (as it were) a section, and a fragment of that, of the first man, which is the cause he naturally desireth her, as a part taken from himself. The palm hath not more inclination to the palm, nor the iron to the ada∣mant, then one sex hath towards another. When God created the mother of the living, it is written (he built) as if the Scripture would say, That woman is a house wherein the heart of man lodgeth, but too often. Sole glances (saith this great man) are spirituall hands, which cause wonderfull effects; From thence the first battery of Concupiscence beginneth, as saith Clemens Alexandrinus. Adde, that after the corruption of sinne, we have in us an evil source of carnall desire, which floweth from the bottome of our soul by our five senses, as by so many conduit-pipes. Nature is extremely subtil and busie, and when one hath a hun∣dred times together by strong hand chased it away, a hundred times it returneth; It insinuates it self, it pres∣seth forward with sweet violences, with charming sweetnesses, it insensibly spinneth the web, and doth what it list.

Moreover, it is seconded with a certain curiosity, to know all that which is most pernicious to it. It kicketh against the laws of honesty and modesty, and thinks the forbiddance of an evil is the greatest of all tor∣ments. It will know too much, to be chaste, and makes a snare to it self of proper science. O God of purity, how many do we now adayes see, who, to give entrance to a wicked curiosity, through too free conversation, receive as many wounds as they give glances, and as many deaths as beauty shoots arrows against them! Solomon, who well knew the effect of this passion, said: Thy eyes shall see forreign women, and thy heart shall entertain a very evil discourse within thee: Thou shalt be as one fast asleep in the midst of the waves of the sea, or as a lazy plot, who, oppressed with drowsi∣nesse, hath forsaken the helm. Thou wilt say, It is true, they struck me, but I feel no pain of it: They have drawn me this way and that way, but I am not sensible of it, when shall I be awakened, to be again drunk with love, and to return to my accustomed pleasures? See how a senslesse soul talketh, which ha∣ving not well guarded its senses in the first assault, de∣livereth the heart over as a prey, and sinks into the bottome of Abysse. But to rest within the limits of ho∣nest amities, it is undoubted one cannot use too much precaution, so subtil and penetrative are the stings thereof, especially, when it is sharpned by Beauty, Bounty, and Benefits. Yea, misery therein doth some∣times bear so sensible a part, that a beautifull and virtu∣ous woman, being in her innocency afflicted, shooteth arrows of victorious love into the heart of man: And very well the Philosopher Seneca hath observed, that love is great, when it grows out of commiseration.

It is true which Cassidorus said in the book of Amity, that one affection degenerateth insensibly into another. Love, in the beginning, is wholly divine, then it becometh humane, being yet within the limits of reason: From humane it passeth to naturall, wherein it quickly feels the sting of nature, and the first fervour of Concupiscence. From naturall, it becometh offici∣ous, entertaining it self with discourses, comple∣ments, complacence, offices, and services. From offici∣ous, it most times becometh carnall, and from carnall, absolutely unchaste.

Iamblichus, a Philosopher, very curious, saith, that those who professed to consult with spirits by this di∣vine operation; as is pretended, saw in the beginning obscurities, spectres, and night; but persisting in their search they perceived the air by little and little waxed bright with a pleasing serenity, and the apparitions be∣came more lightsome. It falleth out quite otherwise in the matter of Amities, indiscreetly tied with women: For at first, those shevvs are fair and specious, but the issues of them (if one be not heedfull) are black and hideous. A soul vuhich feareth God, might sometimes be very confident among such as make profession to

be none of the honestest, because it is prevented by some aversion which hindereth its perdition; but virtue, consorted by sweet disposition, hath another manner of power: for it insinuateth it self into the soul with admirations and satisfactions, which attract the in∣clination before the consideration can be permitted to frame any further discourse. So S. Bonaventure in the Treatise he composed of the Purity of Confession, saith, The Amity of virtuous women is more to be feared, and the testimonies of mutuall affections which one sex rendereth to another, are infinitely able to en∣kindle love. One, who is not extremely exorbitant, beginneth not the practice of vice on the top; iniquity hath its apprentiships, none comes in an instant to the utmost of impudency. Above all, heed must be had of the beginnings, before vice take much predominance to our prejudice.

Have you observed what a stone doth thrown into a pond? it maketh at first a small circle, which causeth another, and the other a third, the third out of that produceth a fourth, and they are still infinitely upon encrease so much, that the water onely curled with a little pebble, makes a long chain of circles, which fill up the totall superficies. This happeneth in love, it falls into our heart not perceived, nor foreseen, and in the beginning causeth some slight touch, which, accord∣ing as it is entertained, distends it self, and is in such sort multiplied, that it replenisheth the whole capacity of our soul with arrows and chain-links, which we can∣not but with much labour dissolve and unloose. A spirit which before rested in a generous liberty becomes captive. This imperious visage perpetually knocks at the gate of his heart. It enters into game, study, re∣pose, repast, sleep and action. It insinuateth it self into prayer, with distractions pleasingly troublesome, it busieth the thoughts, it exerciseth the discourse, it enflameth the desire, to go, to visit, to speak; it reple∣nisheth the memory with what is past, the imagination with the future, and the present, with disturbance. A soul finds it is not well, that it dissolves, that it consumes by the senses, and hath already dried up all its smiling beauties, and weakned that vigour, which is in devo∣tion. It notwithstanding flattereth it self with the colour of innocency; it feigneth to it self that this is an act of charity; that it is a duty of civility; that it is an act of the soul that burns not but for virtue; but the mischief is, this soul is not an intelligence separa∣ted from matter, and that in the guest thereof, we passe by the veil of body, which becometh a snare to chastity.

How many Bulls have we seen feeding in a pasture, strong and sound, who having heedlesly swallowed a little worm called by the Grecians, The fire of Oxen, become meagre and faint, retaining nothing at all of their bodies but bones and figure? And how many great spirits have we beheld which were in excel∣lent state, and in full vigour of the functions of intelle∣ctuall life; who, by approching over-near to this sex, have entred into affections of fire and flames: which, like little creeping serpents, have stoln into their hearts and dest••oyed virtue? I will not soil the purity of my Pen with the exorbitancies, which both ancient and modern histories have observed upon this subject. I passe over it, as bees over hemlock, without any stay, it seeming unto me that many Authours had done bet∣ter to have covered the stains of their mother, then to have divulged them to maligne spirits, who make use of poison, and readily impute the disorders of particular, to the generall body.

All I have said hereupon hath been to suit my self to the sense of Scripture, and holy Fathers who so no∣tably have condemned the over-much familiar conver∣sation with women, and if they seem sometimes to speak of it with too much rigour, it is for that in great crimes the evil might be diverted by exaggeration of the pe∣ril, to the end, that since the fire is to be feared, the very smoke might be avoided.

It is not to be wondered at what the Wise-man said, That the too free familiarity with women was a fire∣brand in the bosome: That S. Ephraim thought it was as easie to live among burning-coals, as to converse with this sex, and not to wound the soul: That S. Ber∣nard wrote, that to be alwayes among women without hurt, was to do more then to raise the dead: That, S. Cyprian imagined it was to erect a precipice, to be ad∣dicted to such society: That S. Jerome advised, that we should either equally love them all, or equally not know them.

We see many shipwracked fools standing on pro∣montory tops, who tell us of the ruines which these passions haue caused. Simon Magus was undone by a Hellen, being more bewitched by her love, then he en∣chanted others by his sorcery. Appelles was corrupted by Philumene: Montanus, by Prisca and Maximilla: Donatus, by Lucilia: Elpidius, by Agape. Women have ended among all these, what Magick and Heresie had but begun. O good God! what man would not be astonished at the Roman Macarius, who having overcome love in the world, was surprised in the wil∣dernesse by finding a womans shoe? To conclude, Heaven is most happy, said Tertullian very wittily, because, though it hath Angels, it hath not Angelicals; though it hath a God, it hath no Goddesses; and it might be feared, if there were diversity of Sex there, it would alter something of its tranquility.

So many great men, who were much accomplished in sanctity, have thought of women upon the brink of the grave, and have found, we must ever fear, that we may never fall. Besides, I leave you to think with what conscience a spruce youth who hath a body full of bloud, and a spirit replenished with flames, can say, He will love God in his works, and that he findeth not any one better, then a handsome woman. He knoweth how to manage his love, he will take in no more fire then he list and this fire shall not burn, but at his dis∣cretion. This beauty shall serve to raie him towards God; he will passe from the creature to the Creatour without any difficulty: It is a ladder of gold, which God hath set for him to climb up into heaven by. But, it is to be doubted lest it prove Archimedes his engine, whereon the higher they mounted, the lower they de∣scended. Such an one by this way thinks to touch hea∣ven with a finger, who already hath a foot in hell. But since I write this Treatise for Courtiers, and for the well-ordering of divine and humane love; I neither must, nor will, by my discourse put any prejudice upon the virtuous, and civil Amities which may be between persons of different sex, who are endowed with singu∣lar and excellent virtues, and who manage their affe∣ctions with admirable discretion: which, although rarely, may be done; and if there be any who abuse it, it is not fit, by reason of blasted members, to blame sound parts, and suspect them of corruption; nor to censure the actions of many great Saints, who, being obliged by duty to converse with other sex then their own, have therein comported themselves with so much prudence and charinesse.

S. Augustine, in the fourth Book of the City of God, saith, The Ancients had three Goddesses of Love; one for the irregular, another for the married, and a third for Virgins. We must not think the king∣dome of hell perpetually swayeth upon the earth (to speak with the Wise-man) and that one cannot look on a woman, & not take in the fire of evil love. How many

be the••e, who, wholly are estranged from all tender and affectionate inclinations? Briars and thorns are as full of courtesie as their greetings, and the ice of Scythia is not more cold then their conversation. How many do we find, who, having their spirits wholly possessed by other passions; one of Ambition, another of Avarice, another of Revenge, another of Envy, another trans∣ported by the sollicitude of a suit, and the turmoil of a family who think very little upon love? How many other are there, from whom study, affairs, and charges (wherein they strive supereminently to transcend) free their minds from all other thoughts? And how many Ladies see we in the world, with a countenance ever smiling, of a humour chearfull and conversation most pleasing who make love to wits and spirits, as Bees to flowers, but have with the body no commerce at all?

But, if this may sometimes proceed from humour; by a much stronger reason we must think, great souls, that are powerfully possessed by the love of God which replenisheth the whole latitude of their hearts, and who live in continuall exercises of prayer and mortification, may converse with women for the affairs of salvation, by a conversation sweetly grave, and simply prudent, not changing the love which they bear to the virtue of chastity.

It is an act of a base or maligne spirit, to measure all by ones own self, and to think that, what he would do in a slippery occasion, must be done by all such who are farre otherwise eminent in grace and virtue, then are the ordinary sort of men.

The Authour of the theatre of Nature holdeth, that the Basilisk alone, among serpents, cannot be en∣chanted; and, I dare affirm there are men, who have the like priviledge, and have their eyes love-proof, and their hearts shut up against all the assaults of con∣cupiscence, whether it proceed from singular habits of virtue, or whether it be some very extraordinary gift from God. Democritus voluntarily made himself blind, by looking stedfastly on the beams of the sun, to free himself from the importunities of the love of women; He (perhaps) shut up two gates against love, to open a thousand to his imagination. Origen depri∣ved himself of the distinction of sex, to rebate the stings of sensuality, which bred him much mischief. Grace, and the gift of God, doth more then all the en∣deavours of men, it forsaketh not those, who, by obli∣gation of their charge, and out of the necessity of their profession, converse with women, within all the limits and due proportions of decorum.

The Ecclesiasticall History assureth us, that the glo∣rious S. Athanasius, seeing himself persecuted by the Arrians with rage, thirsty of his bloud, and not know∣ing whom to trust, hid himself in the night-time in the house of a devout Virgin, where he was long conceal∣ed, and protected against the fury of his persecutours. Whosoever will weigh this, shall find it an extraordi∣nary act, for the history saith, the Virgin was a miracle of beauty; and being not fully twenty years of age, had made a vow to preserve a perpetuall virginity to God. It much amazed her at first, seeing the great Prelate had chosen her little habitation for the place of his retreat: but he assuring her it was the will of God, she enterteined him with an open heart, and served him with so much purity, obedience, and reverence, that she seemed to have lodged an Angel, not a Man in her house.

She furnished him with all necessaries for life, she washed his feet; yea, she borrowed Books for him, with singular heed, that he might entertain time in this his imprisonment. Cardinall Baronius calleth this history into question, and thinks it an invention of Arrius his side, but there is very little apparence, see∣ing the Arrians of that time never objected it to S. Athanasius, as being a matter out of their know∣ledge. And although this great man, in his Apology, hath said nothing of it, where he speaketh of his flights and retreats, this, notwithstanding, nothing at all lesseneth the truth of it, since there are many things may very innocently be done by prudent men, which are not necessary to be published to all the world.

And needs must he have had little judgement to have vaunted this accident before his enemies, whereof they would have taken but too much occasion to ca∣lumniate him. And as for that which Baronius saith, that it onely belonged to widows to wash the feet of Saints, it is true, according to the ordinary proceedings of the Church, and the liberty of its functions; but here the question is of an outrageous persecution, and of an act, out of common practice, and there is not any reason which can essicaciously prove this history to be invented, seeing it is faithfully set down by Sozo∣men and Palladius, two great admirers of the virtues of S. Athanasius; whereof the one giveth so evident proofs, that he witnesseth he had seen the same Virgin when she was seventy years old, and saith this relation was confirmed to him by Priests of Alexandria. I hold it more admirable then imitable, and that al∣though the Hebrew Children were once preserved in the fornace by miracle, one must not therefore despe∣rately throw himself, through imprudence, among coles; but ever confesse the hand of God is able to safeguard those in perils, who have not despaired in the peril, but who by necessity become therein engaged.

What shall we say of S. John Chrysostome? Is there a man more austere in his life, and more vehement in the matters of virtuous Amities? It is a strange thing to reade the letters he writes from the place of his ba∣nishment to his dear Olympias. He saluteth her with opennesse of most ardent affections, he calleth her his Saint, and his venerable Lady; sometimes he instructs and encourageth her by sublime, grave discourses, ad∣dressing Epistles to her, to be valued with whole Books. Another while he descendeth into particulars, he recounts unto her his voyages, his adventures, his comforts, his discomforts; He omits nothing of the condition of his health, of the disposition of his body, of his chamber, of his habit, of his ordinary exercises in this ugly place, whereunto he is banished. He prote∣steth he is much troubled he sees her not, he assures her, all his pains are nothing in comparison of the want of such an one whom he so tenderly loved, which he con∣firmed unto her by the example of S. Paul, who chal∣lenged Angels and Devils, who mocked at all persecu∣tions, who was ready to carry all hell on his shoulders (had it been possible) out of the desire he had to suffer. And yet the separation of Titus, his well-beloved Disciple, afflicted him so much, that he could not give his thoughts any repose. He dilates much upon this affection of S. Paul, to excuse his own, which shewed it self at the height, when the news was brought him of the sicknesse of the same Olympias: For then it was, when the winters of Scythia, the countenances of Barbarians, the hideous roughnesse of some place where it seemed Nature had never been, the noise of warre, and the incursions of souldiers fleshed in mas∣sacres and spoils, are nothing in comparison of the af∣fliction he feels for the indisposition of this dear Vir∣gin. He conjureth her by all things the most precious to tender her health, he sendeth her to skilfull Physici∣ans, he teacheth her medicinall drugs which help him∣self, he promiseth her long letters, which she infinitely loved; so that she take care of her, health, he assureth her, as it were in the spirit of prophecy, that he must

visit her again to comfort his cares, wipe away his tears, and replenish his heart with satisfaction. What can be more lovely, what more affectionate, then this whole discourse?

Saint Jerome is in the same passions for Saint Paula. All the splendour of Romes greatnesse, all the riches of the earth, are nothing with him in comparison of his little Bethleem, made resplendent by the virtues of this noble Lady. He telleth us that Pilgrims who come from the remotest confines of the world cannot see any thing, in all the affluent wealth thereof comparable to her. When he goes about to praise her, he wisheth all the members of his body were changed into tongue, and that he were nought but voyce, to be throughout, the whole Universe, the Trumpet of her praises. He describeth her life and death with extasies he playes the Poet in his old age to make her an Epitaph and fetch∣eth out a pedigree for her from the ashes of old Troy, and the conquests of Agamemnon. He formerly had made himself a Secretary to her and her daughter, en∣diting their letters for them to invite Marcella their companion into the solitudes of Bethleem. When he thinks of her coming, all the holy land is turned topsie∣turvey, the hillocks leap for joy, the fields deck them∣selves in their best beauties, the rivers carry the news thereof to the meadows, squadrons of religious, and virgins go before; there is nothing but salutations and transportations, and rejoycings incomparable: Out of which we may conclude, Saints have very lively affe∣ctions towards all they love.

That blessed Prelate, the Bishop of Geneva had the same spirit for his Philothea. For behold how he speaks of her in the first letter of his second Book. When you unfolded your self to me more particularly, it was an admirable joy to my soul that I might more and more comfort yours, which made me believe that God had given me to you, not imagining any thing might be added to the affection I felt in my mind and especially when I prayed for you: But now (my dear daughter there hath upon it succeeded a new business which to my seem∣ing cannot benamed, but the effect of it is onely a great interiour sweetnesse, which I have, to wish you all the per∣fections of the love of God and all other spirituall bene∣dictions. In the 16 Epistle he saith, It is a dew which moistneth his heart without blow or noise; I speak before the God of my heart, and yours; every affection hath its particular difference one from another: That which I bear you hath a certain particularity which infinitely comforteth me, and to say all, it is infinitely available for me. Account this as an irrefragable verity, and do not you doubt it at all. Then he adds, when many particular persons recommended to him, come into his mind, she is alwayes the first, or the last, who there longest abideth.

See how the wayes of the just are hidden, and leave no prints to follow them by the tracks. An ill inform∣ed Censurer would here have wrinckled the brow, he would have said with a supercilious countenance, a se∣vere aspect, in the words of Cato: That, it must needs be a manifest snare of Satan, to have a womans face in his mind in the midst of his prayers. and yet we know this worthy man lived in most perfect purity, in imitation of immateriall Angels. This teacheth, us, there may be amity between Sex and Sex, purre and ardent as the flames which enlighten stars. But this onely belongeth to persons infinitely prudent, and abso∣lute in virtue, who are therein more worthy of admi∣ration then imitation: yea indefatigable circumspecti∣on must be used, to contein them within their limits: And then is the time that they produce chast and strong delights, when two spirits perpetually look one upon another, as the Cherubins of the Ark having continually the Propitiatory of the living God in the midst of them: or when they resemble the Sunne and Moon, who for these six thousand years have courted each other, and never touched.

§ 5. Of the enterteinment of Amities.

AMity, in the world wherein we are, is a fire out of its sphear, which properly is heaven; where knowledges are without darknesse, joyes without dis∣comforts, and love without blemish. For which cause, it stands in need of precaution to defend it self, and of strength to abide in a place, where constancy is rare, change ordinary, errours naturall, assaults violent, and resistance weak: The mind of a Lover is delicate nice, and sensible in injuries, if you handle it slightly, it withereth like a Rose; if roughly it fadeth like a Lilly. I then will briefly glance at those things which alter Amity, and shew you likewise the Antidotes that preserve it, to the end, remedies opposed; the evils may with the more lustre appear.

I hold, that among all the stains which Amity may contract, there is not any more blemisheth it, then For∣getfulnesse, Negligence, Scorn, Dissention, Distrust Inequality, Impatience, and Infidelity. We see so ma∣ny Amities daily do disolve by Forgetfulnesse, and want of frequentation, that it seems divers friends (espe∣cially when they be of eminent condition make their way to the Elyzian fields by the river of forgetfulnesse. They no longer remember those whom they had courted, then a nightly dream, nor know they so much as whether they be in the world or no, and whe∣ther they yet have any part among the living. Severus demanded of S. Paulinus his picture to preserve his memory, but he asked him, whether he desired the image of a terrene, or celestiall man; shewing we must rather remember friends by the figures of the mind, then the lineaments of the face.

Others want not memory, but they have a certain carelesnesse which many times proceedeth from a na∣ture lazy and indifferent, that cannot take a litle pains to quicken the memory of a friend; another-while it cometh from a narrow-streightned heart which vouch∣safeth not to oblige it self in an occasion, wherein it hath full power.

Some are not content to scorn, but doe also make their scorn appear, by preferring men of no worth, and who were before unknown to them in ancient Amities. They think a friend who is yet to be made, is ever bet∣ter then he who is already wholly endeared. This is it that causeth sharp convulsions in a generous heart which sees it self neglected, and abandoned in need, by one from whom all possible help was expected. Then arise loud out-cries, exclamations and complaints: Yea there are of them, who hide their wounds, yet fail not to love in the midst of these disfavours; which I sup∣pose doth either proceed from a strong virtue, or from a great abjectnesse of mind. If it come from virtue, it is an action truly Christian: But, if from abjectnesse of mind; then it is a lamentable thing to see a silly soul so profuse of love (the greatest treasure in the world) as to conferre it on the ingrate, disdainfull; as if one took delight to feed, and flatter owls. And were a man able to give us the heavens, and stars; if he have not Amity and affection for us, must we make our selves slaves to a proud spirit, which is wholly employ∣ed within it self; which can never distinguish what virtue or Amity is? Disdain is a thing not hard to be learned, when he, whom we honour most, giveth us a lesson of it in his ingratitude, One may pay scorn with scorn, and set a value upon nothing but God who gives estimation to all things.

There are others who begin the breach of Amity by

diversity of opinions and judgements; they build but upon one ground in the exercise of the holy virtue; their understanding inclineth to one side, their will seems to propend to another: but in the conclusion it is gained by judgement, and the continuall diversity of reasons cau∣seth the dissention of hearts. I doe not say, one should play the Chameleon in Amity, and, without foundati∣on, take upon him all colours which are presented; for, that would be rather to become a flatterer then a friend. The Seraphins of Ezekiel, though they clap them∣selves with the tips of their wings, yet faile not to make a heavenly Harmony: So, good friends, who at first somewhat differ in opinion upon subjects offered, and propose their reasons with sweetnesse and modesty, thereby alter not concord; but when this dissention is very frequent, and captious, it is an evident token, love is strucken at the heart.

Others are easily transported with suspicions and Distrust, and open their ears very wide to tale-tellers who are the most dangerous plagues which the evil Ge∣nius can vomit forth to disturb concord. Antiquity tel∣leth us that friends sent ear-rings to their dearest corre∣spondents on their birth-day, to consecrate their ears to Amity, and preoccupate them against slander. We must judge (saith Seneca) before we love, but when once we have begun to love, we must beleive a friend. We must not open a heart byhalves; he is made faith∣full by the power of believing him to be such; and there are not any so worthy to be deceived as those, who up∣on all occasions, fear to be deceived. It is an act proper to a spirit stupid, and unworthy of the manage of af∣fairs, to be ready at the first, to give credit to the vene∣mous tongue of a calumniatour, opposed against the life and innocency of a friend; or of one in prime place, with∣out sifting diligently all the circumstances of his accusa∣tion. And what assurednesse may we hope for in hu∣mane things, if all ears should become as credulous, as tongues are licentious? Came not thence the frequent subversions of States, and calamities of Mankind?

Is it not that which irrecoverably ruined the Roman Empire, under Valentinian the third, when (as Maxi∣mus relateth who was his Capitall enemy) he with his own hand slew his chief Generall Aetius, the pillar and prop of his Empire? We must not believe any thing against an Amity long settled, unlesse the proofs thereof be written with the raies of the Sun. Alexan∣der rather chose to put himself upon the hazard of swallowing poison, then to believe one, who made him a report against the loyalty of his Physitian. He, with one hand, took the goblet without further information, and with the other, gave the accusers Letter to the ac∣cused; the one smiling drank down an apparent death, whilest the other implored heaven and earth against the calumny, which was notably refelled by the generosity of the great Monarch.

Lastly, they do not long preserve Amity, who are Unequall and Impatient: and as Moses makes no men∣tion of the air in the history of the Creation, because it is inconstant, according to S. Gregory Nyssen's conceit: So, we must let their names paste under silence in the Temple of Amity. They grow weary of all, they are displeased with a slight word spoken at randome; with some innocent freedome they enter into Labyrinths of suspicions and perplexities, whence they never come forth; and Amity (which is the most delightfull of all things) becomes their punishment.

All, which hath pleased them, displeaseth: All, which hath contented them, discontenteth; one knows not into what posture to put himself, to give satisfacti∣on: Good words vex them, services distast them, sub∣missions torment them, contradictions make them mad: It seemeth Sauls devil possesseth them, and that they know not themselves; they hate by humour, as if they had loved without consideration of merit.

But we must say, that of all the plagues of Amity, there is none so fatall to it, as the discovery of a secret by Treason and Infidelity: That is it which Petrus Blesensis called the blow without noise, under the sha∣dow of Amity. It is that which Brutus gave to great Cesar, and which was the cause that the valorous Em∣perour (long tumbled to and fro among his murder∣ers, and defending himself from every blow they gave him) covered his eyes with his garment, not enduring the treachery of a man whom he had loved, and obli∣ged above all other: But saying, Ah son! art thou then one of these? He suffered himself as a victime to be butchered, ashamed to behold the day light, which made him see so black a mischief. And what is there more to be deplored, then to behold a generous heart which dilates it self in the presence of a pretended friend, and powreth out unto him all he hath in his soul, whilst the wretch (shooting back envenomed, shafts against all the raies of Amity) maketh a prey of his good∣nesse and a trophey of his sincerity; abandoning him to the discretion of such as persecute him. There are some who suffer themselves to fall into these Infidelities by the surprizall of some wicked spirits who wholly go∣vern them, and who draw out of them all they have in their hearts, either by craft, or power, which rendreth them lesse culpable, but not innocent. Others run to it with the malignity of a Devill, and joyfully triumph when they have prospered in an Act so base and barba∣rous. Do not these kind of people deserve to be ac∣counted the horrour of nature, the scorn of Ages, the execration of mankind? And shall we not believe that if Pythagoras Metempsychosis were in being, their souls would put on no other bodies but of Hyena's, Rats, or Owls, to fly in an eternall night, and never to be illustrated with one sole ray of the bright day of Amity?

Now, if you desire to know the things which are of power perpetually to uphold Amity, I must tell you, it subsisteth in honesty good disposition communica∣tion, Bounty, Patience and Fidelity. Assure your self, you will not long be a good friend, if you study not to be ever virtuous.

The heart of a wicked man (saith the Prophet) is a turmoyled sea, which never rests; it hath as many chan∣ges as the waves in the Ocean, as many agitations as Tempests, which with Amity is incompatible, of its own nature peacefull, and which enterteins the mind in a constant situation. What is the cause the blessed are never weary of loving, but that they perpetually find in God new beauties and perfections? The body is fi∣nite, and quickly thrusts forth all its qualities, which with time, rather fade, then flourish; but our spirit is profound as an abysse, and our soul tendeth in some sort to Infinity. Hence it comes, that two friends seriously disposing themselves to perfection daily receive some new lustre, which rendreth them lovely, so, that increa∣sing in goodnesse by degrees, they insensibly love some better thing. Saint Hilary of Arles said of two good friends, that they sought to hide themselves in the sha∣dow of one another, but that thence their humility was reflected, as from a solid bottome which made its lights the more resplendent.

Yet would I not that your virtue should be austere and unmanaged, but seasoned with a good disposition and a certain cordiality, which is the best temper of Amity. There are some who love so coldly, that their love is as a day in winter, when the Sun is involved in grosse vapours, and shews nothing but sadnesse: which is extreamly troublesome; for it is bet∣ter to receive a manifest Correction, then to en∣dure

a hidden Amity (to speak with the Wiseman) and you shall find many women who better love harsh men, then such as are neither one nor other.

He is no good friend who rejoyceth not at the pre∣sence of his friend, who is not sorry for his absence; yet not opposing the conformity we should have with the divine Providence. S. Chrysostome in the letters he wrote to his dear Olympias observed these sensible af∣fections in S. Paul, for he was much troubled at the absence of his best friends, and desired to see their fa∣ces, (as he saith) where this great Prelate insisteth up∣on on the word face, and sayes it is good right, that we desire the face of our friend, because it is the place where the soul sheweth it self in all its senses. There is not a∣ny man (saith Tertullian) unlesse he hath little to do, delighteth to hold long discourse before a face shut up, a visage sensible of nothing, and which to say truly cannot but be melancholy in this posture. This hin∣dreth not, but that the use of veils is very laudable, in time and place among religious women, who make profession of penance; and the fore-alledged Authour, who ardently urgeth virgins to this observance, gives them an example of Arabian women, who were so veil∣ed, that they had but one eye free to guide them, and to receive a half light: which caused a Roman Queen to say, that they were miserable women who went so, be∣cause they might take in love, but not give it out again. But contrariwise they were most happy, to be delivered from a thousand importunities of wanton eyes, which do nothing but court beauties.

Howsoever, true amity is necessarily accompanied with some tendernesse and sensibility, which causeth one to be perpetually anxious for such as he loveth. Love, in the heart is an exhalation in a cloud, it cannot continue idle there; It daily formeth a thousand ima∣ginations, and brings forth a thousand cares: It findeth out an infinity of inventions to advance the good of the beloved: It openeth it self in his prosperities, it shuts it self up in his adversities, it is a palled in perils, it tri∣umpheth in glories; If it hear speech of his praises, it is Manna fallen from heaven; if he be blamed, it is a poysoned arrow which transsixeth the heart: The eye, the tongue, the arm, all the veins and arteries bend to his defence.

Add for the third Antidote, that Amity is notably en∣tertained by conversation and mutable communication, which should be full of liberty, freedome, and confi∣dence. There it is where one entreth into community of secrets, of thoughts, counsels, inventions, opinions, in∣dustries, affairs, and purposes. There it is, where hearts discover their nakednesse, and where spirits going out of Christalline breasts, make a sweet mixture of fires and lights. There it is, where (saith the Wise∣man) Iron sharpeneth Iron, where one Intelligence awakens another. There it is, where the bottome of the heart becomes as a fountain of clear water, where∣in souls behold each other by admirable reflections. One reckoneth up his life, his courses, his voyages, his hazards, his enterprizes, his successes, his joyes, his an∣noyes, his Sympathies, his Antipathies; The other receiveth all this into his bosome, and reciprocally o∣pens himself to his friend. Oh what sweetnesse, oh what an Atome of the life of the blessed is this com∣munication, when it is inviolably grounded upon vir∣tue, and honesty! What a contentment it is to see a poor man who was as a cloud surcharged with storms and darknesse, to free himself and become bright by aspect of the beams, which reflect from the eyes of a friend, to clear up at the words which come from his lips, to receive infusions wholly celestiall, which put in order things confused, give vigour to the languishing, comfort in affliction, and hope amidst despairs! Time stealeth away in these entertainments, and is not felt: hours are not numbred, moments are there pretious; the space which intercurres between two Suns, seemeth but one. Whosoever importunely troubles these con∣versations, are like Birds of ill presage: and night which separates them (although it be the mo∣ther of Repose) is not alwayes welcome, un∣lesse it in sleep restore those beloved delights it took away.

Yet, it is good to moderate this conversation, the nature of humane things being such, that pleasure when it is arrived at the highest, is not far distant from distaste. The more that Flowers breath forth their excellent odour, so much the sooner they wither; and by how much the more love produceth fires and spark∣lings, so much the more it is weakned, unlesse it be re∣paired by reason, which is swallowed by sense. Absence entertained by letters full of confidence, is not alwayes without its profit; for the soul by the memory tasteth what it hath taken in by the understanding, and gives it self more leasure to recogitate its pleasures, which are not so well perceived, when presence drencheth the mind in a deluge of contentments, and gives it not lea∣sure to bethink it self. It is a goodly thing (verily) to behold these affectionate complacents, yet never is one a good friend, if he come not to the fourth point, which is, to wish, and to do good to those he loveth. It is now-a-dayes a true testimony of Amity, to give liberally of ones own, in a time when silver is the God of the world, and interest the mark, whereat all intentions aim. There are some, who would ra∣ther give the bloud of their veins, then ought of their purse; would suffer incredible toils for a friend, and would not diminish for him the least part of their or∣dinary expence; yet Amity never is perfect, unlesse it enter into a free communication of necessary helps, as much as ability and reason permit. Whosoever invented benefits gave wings to Amity, and made ar∣rows of gold which insensibly penetrate hearts the most unnaturall.

An Elephant, who beareth Towers and houses on his back, cannot carry a benefit without a gratefull ac∣knowledgement of it: It is that which quencheth the fire that sparkleth in the eyes of Lions, which stayeth their paws keen as rasours, and makes them adore that which is thrown out to them as a prey to be devoured. Liberality is a hook we must ever hold in the water; we must not fear many times to lose, to conferre once well, a good office done to a friend. That man de∣serveth never to get any thing, who thinks all he gi∣veth is lost, and who gives not at all, but to receive double. His intentions are mercenary, and his favours are like Lime-twigs; he maketh a Market-place of the Temple of Amity, and profaneth all that is sacred in it, to consecrate it to his own passion.

It is an excellent industry, to give well, and it re∣quireth much study. There are such as give all they cannot keep, and are never liberall but in extremity, like to the fountain of Spoleto which never appeared, but when the countrey was threatned with an approch∣ing famine. Others send Presents to no purpose, and unseasonably, as if one should give books to a Peasant, and arms to a Scholar. Their gifts are many times so unhappy, that they may be reckoned among the mischiefs their enemies wish. Others throw larges∣ses by starts, and distribute not favours, but cast them at random; and there are oft to be found such, who giving to all, for want of giving with judgement, oblige none. They hasten to those who desire nothing of them, not seeing it is a great torment to be obliged to one, to whom one would owe nothing. There are, who make themselves to be adored before they open the golden

gates of liberality, they are shut up within so many locks, that an age passeth before they succour the mise∣ry of a friend; they put oyl into the lamp to light it, when it is quite out, and do good to Hobgoblins, and spirits in tombs. It is too late to give to a friend, if you stay till he demand it: you give him twice, when you deliver him out of his torment. Archesilaus well understood this mystery, who laid a bag of mo∣ney under the pillow of his sick friend, whom he knew to be in great necessity, without telling him from whence this supply came, and rather choosing he should have the pleasure to find it, then the pain to ask it. What good is it to do, as the officers of great ones who are stately in their distributions, and think not they ever have given ought, unlesse it were long ask∣ed? They make themselves to be waited on like De∣my-gods, and magnifie what comes from their own hands, in such sort that their benefits are scorned, and we begin to hate that, which was too late resolved on, or too proudly afforded. He must give his Presents according to the common practice of men, observing circumstance of place, time, season, persons; guild his favour with the gold of graces, and not do, as they who give so sadly, that one would take them for men who deny.

Friends also who receive ought not to be trouble∣some, there being not any thing which more offend∣eth firm Amities then the too great importunities of the bold, who ever have their hand open to receive, and never have a brow soft enough to blush. There are many Amities which are by this way dissolved; when friends perswade themselves to ask boldly, and will not be denyed, but think one gives them nothing, if they give them not all.

The fifth condition of a good friend, consisteth in a strong patience to bear with the defects of the person he loveth, whether they be in the mind, the body, or in the exteriour: Yet it is not that crimes and scandals, hidden under the shadow of Amity, should be tolera∣ted: for that were to be a traitour to the most innocent of virtues. Above all, it is expedient to observe, and in the beginning to touch the passion of one dear unto us with hands of silk, and words of sattin; not to di∣stemper him, if he be somewhat sensible. But if light remedies make not impression, we must urge, sollicit, la∣bour with all the liberty which confidence affordeth, and not forsake the sick, untill we see some little hope of amendment. But if the evil daily increase by the contempt of remedies, and that it be such that it in∣volves a friend within the danger of infamy; a man ought not to think it strange if he be abandoned, since he first of all degraded himself of the character of A∣mity, which is virtue. Other defects of manners, which proceed not to crime, ought to be handled with singular sweetnesse and discretion, and these of nature and humane accidents cannot be taken by a good friend but as a decree from heaven, and an exercise of his goodnesse. There are some, who have their souls so ge∣nerous, that they love miseries; they find deformity to be handsome, when it is dressed up in the liveries of Loves; plagues and cankered sores breed neither fear, nor aversion in them: They digest all by the heat of an immortall affection.

Then it is, when we come to perfect fidelity, which is the Basis that supporteth the whole house of Ami∣ties. It is a virtue really divine, and one of the most pretious treasures in the heart of man. It is a Bud of Fidelity, a proof of an invincible courage, a note of an inviolable goodnesse: It is an imitation of the or∣der of the heavens, and of the elementary world, where all persevere in the observance of the laws which were written by the Divine Providence from the be∣ginning of ages, by the help of Fidelity, which the prin∣cipall parts of the universe do observe one towards an∣other.

It is that, which is the cause that stars eternally cir∣cumvolve within their divisions, not usurping one upon another: That, which causeth dayes and nights yearly to restore the time they had borrowed one of another, and so well to make up their accounts that they pay even to the utmost minute. It is that, which stayeth the waves of the sea, and current of rivers; That, which maketh masters and servants, families and Provinces, States and Empites. All is quickned, all lives, all un∣der the divine hands of this great Mistrisse. By it; Kings have subjects, Lords their officers, Common-wealths Magistrates, Communities Administratours, Fields Labourers, Civil-life Merchants and Artificers, by it, the whole world hath order, and by it, order prospers in all things. One must rather break an hun∣dred times, then once fail in fidelity to a good friend. Were the devil capable of commerce with men, he must observe fidelity: by how much a more just title ought we to preserve love, and honour it, even with veneration in holy Amities?

If a friend, one of those who have been very accepta∣ble to you, chance to fail; whether it be by evil life, or through manifest contempt of you, or out of other ill di∣spositions; yet must you on the rotten trunk honour the last characters of Love, you must rather unstitch then break, you must keep the secrets he at other times hath committed to you, and not publish his defects. Amity is so venerable, that we must honour even its shadows, and imitate the Pythagorians, who celebrated the obsequies of such as forsook their society to bury them with honor.

These precepts being observed; Children will live with Parents in great duty and submission; Husbands with Wives will hold together, not onely by eyes, flesh, and bloud, which are too feeble tyes, but by ex∣cellent conjugall virtues; Parents will live in all sweet∣nesse of nature; People will be fastned with the knot of indissoluble Concord; Great ones will be indul∣gent to inferiours; Inferiours pay obedience to the great; and intimate friends gather flowers and fruits of immortall delights, in the sacred garden of Amity.

§ 6. Of sensuall Love. Its Essence, and Source.

I Here could wish my pen were born on the wings of winds from one pole to another, and that it might fall with a strong and impetuous flight upon a passion which maketh attractives, charms, and illusions to march before it, and after it draggeth along furies, dis∣asters, and rapines.

The wise Hyppocrates in his time deplored the evil effects of Avarice, and said the life of man was misera∣ble, because insupportable Avarice, like unto a spirit of storms and tempests, had poured it self upon mor∣tals, and that it were to be wished the best Physici∣ans might meet together from all parts to cure this disease, which is worse then folly, and which occasion∣eth a mischief irreparable: Because instead of seeking remedies to drive it away, false prayses are invented to flatter it.

I may say the like of Love, since it is the most fa∣tall plague among all passions. It is not a simple mala∣dy, but one composed of all the evils in the world. It hath the shiverings and heats of Feavers, the Ach and prickings of the Meagrim, the rage of Teeth, the stu∣pefaction of the Vertigo, the furies of Frenzy, the black vapours of the Hypocondry, the disturbances of the wa∣king, the stupidities of the Lethargie, the fits of the fal∣ling sickness, the faintness of the Phthisick, the heavings of the passion of the heart, the pangs of the collick,

the infections of the leprosie, the venome of ulcers, the malignity of the plague, the putrefaction of the gan∣grene, and all, which is horrible in nature.

After all this, it is made a God, to whom Elogies, Hymns, Songs, and victimes are offered: Empire over the heart is given to it; a soul, not created but for him who hath saved it, is subjected, fetters are honoured, and its Tyranny adored.

There are many millions of men in the world who would be most fortunate and flourishing, if they knew how to avoid the mischievous power of this pas∣sion: but having not used any consideration or endea∣vour; they have abandoned their bodies to dishonour, their reputation to infamy, their estates to pillage, and their lives to an infinity of disturbances and torments. Hence it is, that, virgins of noble bloud are stolen a∣way, that families are desolated, that parents are pre∣cipitated into their Tombs by ungratefull children, that so many young widows are dishonoured in the world, that so many miserable creatures, after they have served for talk to a City, die in an Hospitall; that so many little innocents are made away by a death which preventeth their birth; that so many Infants are thrown into life as froth of the sea, exposed to poverty, and vice, by that condition which brought them forth. Hence is it, that chaste wedlocks are disturbed, that poysons are mingled, that Halters are noozed, that swords are sharpned, that Tragedies are begun under the Coverture of night, and are ended in a full day∣light upon a scaffold.

O God, how happy might a soul be which would well consider all this, and take what I am about to speak, as a letter sent from heaven, for the remedy of infinite many evils, which in this passion environ our miserable life! I invite hither every age, each sex, all conditions. I entreat my Readers to peruse these lines with the same spirit wherewith I addresse them: and although it befell me to treat of this subject in my o∣ther works; notwithstanding never have I (yet) un∣dertaken it with so much method, vigour, or force, as at this present. I will shew you the Essence, the Causes, the Symptomes, and the effects of love, as religiously as I can possibly, supposing my self not bound to follow Tertullians opinion, who though very chaste, spared not to speak of this subject a little grosly, saying for excuse, that he had rather put himself upon the hazard of losing shame then a good argument. I made you see in the beginning of this treatise, that love, considered in generall, was properly an inclination to the good of Conformity, which putteth on divers faces according to the sundry objects and wayes it pursues to arrive thi∣ther. If it go directly towards God, and reflect on a neighbour, as his Image, loving the one for himself, and the other for his Authour; this is charity: If it diffuse it self upon divers creatures sensible, and insensible, which it pursueth for its pleasure and commodity; it is an ap∣petite, and a simple affection, as that, which is towards hunting, birds, books, pictures, pearls, and Tulips: If it be applyed to humane creatures, loving them withall integrity, by a reciprocall well-wishing; it is Amity: If it regard the body for pleasures sake; it is a love of venereall concupiscence, which being immoderate (even in the intention of marriage) fails not to be vitious; which made Tertullian say, that the same thing an Adulterer would do, the married likewise did, If it be chaste, and guided within the Limits which the Law of God prescribeth; it is conjugall love. If it overflow to sensuall pleasures; It is Luxury, S. Denis saith, It is not love, but an idoll, and a fall from true love. And Plato in his Banquet addeth, that sober love is contentment of heart, eyes, and ears; but when it will content it self by the other senses; namely, that, of touching; it is not love, but a spirit of insolency, a passion of a servile soul, a rage of a triviall lust which maketh shew to love beauty; but, through its exorbitancy, descended to the worst of deformities.

I know there are learned pens, which here distin∣guish all love into two parts, and say there is one of consideration, and another of inclination. They call it love of consideration when one is therein embarked with a full knowledge, and a setled judgement; love of inclination, when one loveth, not able to give any reason. But I find this division is not exact enough insomuch as it confoundeth the Genus and Speeies, and doth not clearly distinguish the members of this body; since all love is nothing else, but an inclina∣tion, and since that which is made by consideration, inclineth the loving to the thing loved. Whence it ap∣peareth that to mention a love of inclination, is to say, love is love, without any further explication. I had rather say there are two loves, the one of Election, which resulteth from Consideration, and is formed, when, after one hath acknowledged a thing to be fair, profitable, and pleasing, he out of reason af∣fects it: The other of humour, when without con∣sulting with reason, one is suddenly surprized by some secret attractive in the thing loved, without giving him∣self leasure to judge what it is, and this properly is to love by humour, and fantasie, which is now adays the most ordinary love, but not the best. It is a kind of love which quickly beginneth, and which never ends slowly, so full it is of inconstancy. It seems to it self all its bands are silken, although they be rough chains: it will not take pains to consider them. It thinks not it cherisheth the wound, nor looks it back on the hand which gave it. It is heedlessely en∣gaged, and signeth transactions without reading them, that it may not be ashamed to abrogate what it made, or to entertain that which kills it. There are many miserable ones, who daily marry upon the first sight, and whose amities arise but from a glance which passeth away more swiftly then a shadow: and then there must be a thousand repentances to redeem the pleasure of one moment. It is ever better to pre∣ferre Election; for, though in the beginning it had not so much sweetnesse in the search, it hath lesse sorrow in the possession.

But to enter farther into the knowledge of Carnall love; it is good to penetrate the causes and effects thereof which will the more perspicuously enlighten us in the choice of remedies. We see many people in the world, who being tormented by this evil euen unto folly, seek for pretexts to cover their passions: some saying, It is a touch from heaven, and an effect of their Horoscope, which cannot be diverted. Others complain they are bewitched, and that they feel the power of magick: Others cast all the blame upon de∣vils, who notwithstanding think not so much of them as they may imagine; for love comes easily enough from naturall causes, without going about to seek for it in the bottome of the Abysse. I here remember what Pliny recounteth of one Cresin; who manured a piece of ground which yielded him fruit in abundance, while his neighbours lands, were extreamly poor, and barren, for which cause he was accused to have enchanted them: Otherwise, said his accuser, his inheritance could not raise such a revenue, while others stand in so wretched a Condition. But he pleading his cause, did nothing else but bring forth a lusty daughter of his, well fed, and well bred, who took pains in his garden, with strong carts, and stout oxen vvhich ploughed his land, and the vvhole equipage of his Tillage in very good order; He then cryed out aloud before the Judges, Be∣hold the art magick, and charms of Cresin, vvilling to

shew that we must not seek for hidden and extraordi∣nary causes, where ordinary are so evident.

So in the like case we may say it is a thing most ri∣diculous, to see a body composed according to nature, found, and very strong, which hath fire in the spirits, and bloud in the veins, which continually feeds high, lies soft, and perpetually converseth among women the most handsome, to complain of celestiall influences, or the sorseries of Venus. Totall Nature, especially since the corruption of sin, conspireth to make love. It sets Reason to sale (if it carefully take not heed) and insen∣sibly draweth it to its side. There is not almost a stone, whereunder some scorpion lyeth not; there is not a place where concupiscence spreadeth not out some net for us. It fighteth against our selves, makes use of our members, as of the Instruments of its battels, and the Organs of its wiles. There is sedition within, and warre without, and never any repose, but by the sin∣gular grace of God. Tertullian writes, the chastity of men is the more painfull, the fervour of concupi∣scence being the more fiery in their sex, and one may justly say, that such as persist all their life time in great resistances and notable victories, are Martyrs of purity, who, having passed through fire and wa∣ter, hasten to a place of refreshment. We have all one domestick enemy, which is our own body, that perpe∣tually almost opposeth the dispositions of the spirit. If I go about to fetter it (saith S. John Climachus) it gets out of my hands; If I will judge it, it grows in∣to favour with me; If I intend to punish it, it flatters me; If I will hate it, Nature commandeth me to love it; If I will fly from it, it saith it is tyed to my soul for the whole time of my life: If I will destroy it with one hand, I repair it with another; Is it too much cherished? it the more violently assaults me; Is it too much mortified? it cannot almost creep; watching withers it, sleep, on the other side fatteneth it, whips torment it, and dandlings corrupt it: By treating it ill, I endanger my life; by pampering it, I incurre death. This sheweth, how Saints fortified themselves with much precaution, diligently observing the condition of Nature, the causes of temptations, and the maladies of the soul, thereby the more suc∣cessefully to practise the cure. They who are most re∣tired (said the fore-alledged Authour) fail not to feel domestick warres, but such as indifferently expose themselves to objects, are violently both within and without, assaulted.

The beauty, and handsomnesse of one sex, is a sweet poison to the other, which entreth in by the eyes, and maketh strange havock: And I wonder not at all that the Scripture compares it to a Panther (a savage and cruel beast) which with teeth teareth those she hath a∣muzed with the mirrour-like spots of her skin, & drawn to her by the sweet exhalation of her body; It is more to be feared (said an Ancient) then the horns of the Bull, the teeth of the Lion, the gall of the Aspick, yea then fire or flames: and the holy Abbot of mount Sinai saith, that had not God given woman shame∣fac'tnesse, which is the scabbard wherein this sword is kept, there would be no salvation in the world.

The love of women caused Sampson's, David's, and Salomon's shipwracks. It hath besotted Sages, con∣quered the strong, deceived the prudent, corrupted saints, humbled the mighty. It hath walked on Sce∣ptres, parched the lawrels of victours, thrown trouble into states, schisme into Churches, corruption among judges; fury into arms. It hath entered into places which seemed inaccessible, but to spirits, and lightnings. And if beauty be so much to be dreaded, when it hath no other companions; how dangerous think we is it, when it causeth to walk along with it, pomp ap∣parell, attractives, dalliances, cunning wires, liberty of conversation, merriment, Good chear, Courting, Idle∣nesse, Night, sollitude, familiarity? Need we to re∣quire any other charms then those to work the ruine of a soul?

Yet, besides these open causes, there are other secret ones to be found in the love of humour and fantasie, which insensibly fetter a mind, and suffer it not to find its chains.

A modern Authour hath of late written a treatise of the love of inclination, wherein he speaks very per∣tinently of its originall, and doth (according to his say∣ing) seem to draw it a second time out of its Chaos. To understand his opinion, we must presuppose that which S. Thomas saith; That totall Nature loveth to present it self in the objects proposed unto it: And as they continually proceed from all things, coloured ima∣ges and figures as it were wholly spirituall, which make themselves to be seen, as in looking-glasses; and are received into the eies, to contribute to the effect of sight: so every body hath its projections, and unperceivable influences, as we find in the power of Amber, and the Adamant, which attract Iron and straw by the expira∣tion they scatter in the air, to serve as instruments and hands to their attractions.

This being common to other natures of plants, me∣tals, and living creatures; we must not think but that the body of man participateth therein, by reason of its vivacity and the multitude of pores which give a more easie passage to such emissions. There then cometh forth a spirituous substance, which is (according to Marsili∣us Ficinus) a vapour of bloud, pure, subtil, hot, and clear, more strong, or weak, according to the interiour agitation of spirits; which carrieth along with it some quality of a temperate, friendly and convenient, which insinuating it self into the heart and soul, doth (if it there find a disposition of conformity) abide, as a seed cast into the earth, or as a Leaven which swelleth up a piece of dough, and forms this love of correspondence, with an admirable promptnesse and vigour.

From thence it cometh that brothers many times feel motions and affections of tendernesse, one for ano∣ther without knowing each other, as it happened to S. Justus, who knew his brother Justinian, among sundry slaves who were at the chain, by this notice, without any other fore-judgement. Thence it comes that at first we are passionate for persons we never saw, and that we wish them well, though they alwayes have not so much grace, nor beauty: but there is some rela∣tion of humour, which weaveth the web, and tieth such affections.

All nature is full of such communications, which are effects of Sympathy, observed in the Corall, which sensibly changeth according to his disposition, who hath it about him; as also in the flesh of beasts, which boileth in the powdring-tub, at the time of the fury of dogs, because they have been bitten by a mad dog; And in wine, which seems to be sprinkled all over with certain white flowers, when the vines are in blossome.

So it happeneth that the spirits, which do in our bo∣dies, what the winds do in Nature, being transpired from one body to another, and carrying in their wings, qualities consonant, do infallibly excite and awaken the inclinations. But it is not credible, or at least, or∣dinary, that this manner of working should be, as in things inanimate, and that it hath nothing to do with the senses; for it is principally the eyes, which are interressed therein, breathing thence the most thin spirits, and dart∣ing forth the visuall rayes, as the arrows of love, which penetrate the heart, are united, confounded, and lost one within another; then, heating the bloud, they strike the

Imagination, and attract wills, which are so linked one to another, that one cannot perceive the knot which so fast tied them together.

If transpiration alone of spirit, indifferently proceed∣ing from all the parts of the body, were able to enflame concupiscence; we must then say, that a blind man set at a certain distance from a perfect beauty, would become enamoured with beholding it, hearing it, smelling it, couching it, or by any sense, understanding it: which notwithstanding happeneth not in that manner, and if nature thus proceeded, and that this passion were to be taken as a Contagion, we might extreamly fear the ap∣proch of bodies, and persist in continuall apprehensions to be infected by them. It is certain, that the senses be∣ing well guarded shut up all the gates against love, since the Imagination it self stirreth not, but upon their report; but after they yield themselves up by a too fa∣miliar conversation, and resign their defences; a ter∣rible havock is made in the mind: for love entereth thereunto, as a Conquerour into a surprized City, and imprinteth that pleasing face in every drop of the masse of bloud, It engraveth it on the Imagination: It figu∣reth it on every thought, and there is nothing any lon∣ger entire in the mind, which is not divided between slavery, and frenzy.

§ 7. The effects of Sensuall Love.

IT is a strange thing, that this fury hath a thousand hands, and a thousand attractives, a thousand wayes of working, quite different, and many times opposite. It takes by the eyes, by the ears, by the imagination, by chance, of purpose, by flying, pressing forward, honouring, insulting, by complacence, and by disdain. Sometimes also it layes hold by tears, by laughing, by modesty, by audacity, by confidence, by carelessenesse, by wiles, by simplicity, by speech; and by silence. Sometimes it assaileth in company, sometimes in soli∣tude, at windows, at grates. in Theatres, and in Cabi∣nets. at Bals, at sports, in a feast at a Comedy, some∣times at Church at prayers, in acts of Penance. And who can assure us against it, without the protection of God? Eustatius the Interpreter of Homer saith, there are some who feign Love to be the sonne of the wind, and the Rainbow in Heaven; in my opinion, to signifie unto us its Inconstancy and diversified colours: and this beautifull Iris in the beginning appears all in Rubies, in Diamonds, and Emeralds over our heads, afterward to cause rain, and tempests: So, love shew∣ing it self at first with such bright semblances to our senses, occasioneth storms and corruption in our minds.

Observe one transfixed with violent love, and you shall find he hath all that, in his love, which Divines have placed in Hell, darkenesse, Flames, the worm of Conscience, an ill Savour, Banishment from the sight of God. You shall see a man, whose mind is bewitch∣ed, brain dislocated, and Reason eclipsed: All he be∣holdeth, all he meditateth on, all he speaketh, all he dreameth, is the creature he loveth. He hath her in his head and heart, painted graved, carved in all the most pleasing forms. For her, he sometimes entereth in∣to quakings, sometimes into faintings, another while in∣to fits of fire, and Ice, He flieth in the air, and instant∣ly is ••••enged in the Abysse, He attendeth, he espieth, He fears, He hopes, he despairs, He groneth, he sigh∣eth, He blusheth, he waxeth pale, He doteth in the best company, He talks to woods and fountains; He wri∣teth. He blots out, He teareth, He lives like a spectre estranged from the conversation of men: Repast is irksome to him, and Repose, which charmeth all the cares of the world, is not made for him. Still this fair one, still this cruell one tormenteth him, and God ma∣keth him a whip of the thing he most loveth.

Yet is this more strange in the other sex, which hath naturally more inclimation to honesty. A Lady chaste, or a Virgin well-bred; who begins to wax cold in the love of God, and in the exercise of devotion, and takes too much liberty in her conversation with men, finds her self insensibly surprized by the eyes and ears, by the heart, by the Garb: the Humour, the smiles the speech, the silence, the courage, the discretion of a man, layes a plot with her passion, to betray her rea∣son. The poison of love by little and little spreads it self throughout all the veins; the presence of the ob∣ject begins to cause blushing, palenesse, unquiet∣nesse, disturbance of the mind: so that she cannot tell what she desireth, nor what she would have. Ab∣sence awakeneth the Imagination, which makes an Eccho of all the discourses; of all the actions, that past in presence. This man is presented unto her in a thou∣sand shapes, there is not a lineament, a word, a gesture, but is expressed. The understanding quickly creates to it self too many ill lights, the will too much fire, and the soul wholly propendeth to the thing beloved. Yet the fire of God awakeneth her, and suffers her to have good respites, which makes her ashamed to tell her own thoughts to her proper heart. Conscience and Ho∣nour make some resistance and glimmering flashes; and if there be found some good directour who may help them in this first battell; they, many times, get the victory. But if a soul be deprived of good counsel, abandoned to it self, and which is worse, soothed in its malady, by some soft, and complying spirit; it is an unhappinesse which cannot sufficiently be deplored. Reason is weakned, shamefac'tnesse flies away, passi∣on prevaileth, there is nothing left, but wandering of the soul, a feaver, a perpetuall Frenzy, a neglect of works, of affairs, of functions, sadnesse, languour, Impati∣ence, Confidence, and affrightment. Shall she say so? shall she do so? God forbids it, the law mena∣ceth it, and honour cries vengeance; The pleasure of a dream, and beyond it nothing, but Abysses. Love not∣withstanding urgeth, and strikes at all considerations, they impute to starres, to destiny, to Necessity, what is nothing but folly. They think businesse is done, when it is but thought on; that they must be audacious; and that there are crimes which are sanctified in the worlds opinion by the good hap of their succestes. They come to that passe, that they no longer sinne by method, but through exorbitancy.

In some Love is sharp and violent; in others, dull and impetuous; in others, toyish, and wanton; in others, tur∣bulent, and cloudy; in others, brutish and unnaturall; in others, mute and shamefac't; in others, perplexed and captious; in others, light and tradsitory; in others, fast and retentive; in others, fantastick and inconstant; in others, weak and foppish; in others, stupid & astonished; in others, distempted; in some, furious and desperate.

It enflameth the bloud, it weakens the body, it wan∣neth the colour, it halloweth the eyes, it overthrows the mind; it hath somewhat of being possessed, and witch∣craft; something of Idolatry. For you behold in those who are entred farre into this passion, flouds and Ebbs of thoughts, Fits, and Countenances of one possessed, and it is in all of them to deifie the creature of whom they are so passionately enamoured, and would wil∣lingly set it in the place where the Sun and starres are, yea upon Altars. All which proceeds from it, is sa∣cred; chains and wounds are honourable with them, if they come from this beloved-hand. They would die a hundred times for it, so it throw but so much as a hand∣full of flowers, or distill but a poor tear on their Tombe.

It is to deceive, to say that love excludeth all other passions; it awakeneth them, and garboileth them, and makes them all wait on it; it causeth Aversion, Hatred, Jealousie, envie, hope, sadnesse, despair, anger, mirth, tears, scorn, grief, songs, and sighs: and as it is thought that evil spirits shuffle in storms, to stirre up light∣ning flasks, and make the thunder-stroke the more terrible and pernicious; So is it likewise true that the angell of darknesse involveth himself in these great tempests of love, many times making use of the abo∣minable minestery of Magicians, and acteth Trea∣sons, furies, fierings, poysonings, murders, and ran∣sackings. And how should it spare its enemie, since it is cruell to it self? It maketh some to sink in the twink∣ling of an eye, drinking their bloud, and insensibly devouring their members. It confineth others into regions of Hobgoblins, and darknesse. It kils and mur∣dereth those who have the most constantly served it. It sharpned the sword which transfixed Amnon. It sha∣ved and blinded Samson. It gave a Halter to Phyllis, A downfoll to Timagoras. A gulph to Caleazo; and caused Hemon to kill himself on the tomb of Anti∣gone. Volumes would not be sufficient for him who should write all the Tragedies which daily arise from this passion; all pens would be weak, words be dryed up, and wits lost therein.

§ 8. Remedies of evil Love by precaution.

I Leave you now (dear Reader) to argue within your self, whether one who hath never so little humane judgement for his comportment and quiet, ought not to bend all his endeavours to banish the fury, which plun∣geth his whole life in so great acerbities, and such hor∣rible calamities. But if you desire to know the way, the first thing I advise you while you are yet in per∣fect health, is seriously to consider, that one cannot be chaste but by a most singular gift from God, (as the wise-man saith) and therefore it is necessary to have a particular recourse to the most blessed Trinity, which, ac∣cording to S. Gregory Nazianxen, is the first of vir∣gins, humbly beseeching it, by the intercession of the most pure among creatures, and by the mediation of your Angel-guardian, to deliver you from the reproches of the spirit of impurity; in such sort that you may passe your life innocently, and it may become inaccessible to the pollutions of flesh. If you feel your self free from this vice, yet enter not into any vain complacence of your self, as if it proceeded from your own forces, and not from heavens benignity. Above all, take heed of pride; for the most illuminated Fathers have observed that God oft-times permitteth arrogant spirits to fall into carnall sinnes, to abate the fiercenesse of their cou∣rage by the sensible ignominy of the stains of luxury: and this is so proper to quail the exorbitance of hu∣mane arrogance; that God had not a better Counter∣poise to make S. Paul humble, in such heighth of re∣velations, then the sting of the flesh. Pardon not your self any thing no not so much as the shadow of this sin; but onely excuse such as fall through some notable sur∣prisall, or pitifull frailty. Think, if you have not expe∣rienced the like falls, you are beholding to your good hap for it, rather then to your merit: presume not at all of your strength or integ••ity; but resolve with your self that the presumption of ones own power maketh up the moity of Impudency.

Learn how seasonably you may know your self, by confidering your own temperature, your humours, the inclinations of your mind, your judgement, your courage. Behold the part wherein you are the most sensible, and where you give most accesse to your ene∣my to tempt you. Endeavour to fortifie your self that way, and the more inability you therein find, use the more precaution: if you be weak, fear nothing but your infirmity: and if you be strong, fear all, yea even your own safety.

Sometimes the seasons of age, which might seem more to propend to lust, are peacefull and calm enough; In our bodies there is a spring-tide in winter, to become afterward a winter in the spring-tide. Youth transported by other purposes, or withheld by a serious education, is quiet enough, and riper years fall into the most stormy part of the tempest. It hath hap∣pened to divers to converse many years with a contrary sex, and never to have felt any touch, from which, they have entered into a strong confidence that served for a bait in the perill, which had spared them in a thousand occasions, the more notable to ruine them in one sole accident.

Flight from occasions is the most assured bulwark for chastity, and who can carry himself well in this affair, shall be much stronger by flying, then were Conquerours in the bravest battels; a retreat in this, be∣ing as honourable as victory. The world was never so beautifull, so gentile, nor so squarely disposed: Bodies, apparell, garb, civill behaviour, complement, wit, merriment, entertainments, books, songs, airs, voices, playes, bals, races, walkings, Banquets, Feasts, liber∣ty (which at first seem innocent enough) Conversa∣tion, and great confidence; lastly, all we heard, all we see, all we smell, all we taste, all we touch in so great effeminacy of life, seems to be made to perse∣cute purity. I am almost of Tertullians opinion, who saith, it is more easie to dy for chastity, then to live with it. Women were found in the world, who suffer∣ed themselves to be martyred under Tyrants, for the defence of chastity; who had they long continued a∣mong pleasures, Court-ships, Curiosities, and the im∣portunities of men, I should fear, might have yielded that to a lover, which they would have denyed to an Executioner. There are a thousand, and a thousand creatures, infinitely much alienated from voluptuous pleasures; They love the dispositions to love, but hate the effects thereof; and it seems to them they may do as it is read in Romances, they will spend their time in the pleasing conversation of a friend, and talk of no∣thing else; but they perceive not that men seek them not, but for what they should fly, that they at length undermine them as a city besieged; and desire not to afford them any peace but by the conquest of their ho∣nour, which they ought more bravely to maintain, then life.

We find an ancient Embleme of a Duke of Bur∣gundy, where was to be seen a pillar, which two hands sought to overthrow; the one had wings and the other was figured with a Tortoise, the word, Ʋt∣cunque, as much as to say, which way soever, I will have it. There are Amourists, who take the like course; Some strike down the pillars of chastity by the sudden and impetuous violence of great promises, offers, unexpected presents, pressing necessities. Others proceed therein with a Tortoises pace, with long pati∣ence, daily assiduity, faithfull services, and profound submissions. They are not all so sottish, as to talke at first to an honest woman of her dishonour, they onely entreat she will accept of a man, who will live or die for her, begging nought else but a remembrance. They play not the rapt lovers by every moment declaring their fer∣vours, their torments, and martyrdome; They serve, they soothe, they continually frequent, they spie out all occasions, they silently practise all the wayes they can, to come to the end of their designs, and often it hap∣peneth, that as drops of water incessantly falling, do hollow Rocks, so ceaslesse complements soften the most

inaccessible rigours. What would not a man do, who is so base, as to waste ten years of service to kisse a wo∣manr hand, and suffer for a shamefull servitude, that, which others could not endure for an Empire?

It is evident, that the persecutions of chastity being so manifest in all objects, (as I said before) if you de∣sire to be faithfull to God, and charitably to preserve a precious treasure, you must necessarily either live with singular modesty in the world, or die out of it, if you cannot be saved in it.

You Ladies who read this, it is not required of you, that for the love of chastity, you should be reduced to an affected negligence, to some ugly habits, to fashions rough and barbarous, as Roman women were when their husbands fed upon acorns, as yet unaccustomed to the use of bread. Some neatnesse, some quaint trims must of necessity be admitted in a woman, which seems to be bound with her body, and is the cause, why the wisest and most modest among them, do not (not∣withstanding) renounce civil decorum; you must walk, and converse modestly within your self, remembring what the Apostle saith, That your apparel alone should make you be known for Ladies, who make pro∣fession of piety.

Whom would you be thought to be in the day of judgement? Would you be there accounted Christi∣ans, when you have all the signs about you of women the most worldly, that ever lived among Infidels? To what purpose are those garments so pompous, those stuffes so costly, those guizes so sought after, those co∣lours so fantastick, those jewels so sumptuous, that painting so shamelesse, those curls so extravagant, those braveries, those flies, those patches, and those robbers, unlesse it be to cut the throat of chastity? Is it not a re∣proach to Christianity to say, that an infinite quantity of Hospitals might be founded out of the superfluities which so many Ladies unprofitably waste about their bodies? Is is not a point of cruelty, that there are so many lazars, who breathe out the remnant of their dayes, laid upon straw, where they are onely covered with the putrefaction of their ulcers, whiles there are bodies, who drag at their heels the spoil of Elements, and riches of the Universe, to prank themselves so in∣dustriously, as if they were of the matter of the sunne and starres? God, who hath a care every year to make garments all sprinkled over with the pearls of so many meadow-flowers, is not wise enough to inspire you with the fashion you should entertain in your attires. Hea∣ven and earth must be turned topsie-turvie, nature for∣ced, and all arts wearied out to invent extravagances, to serve as instruments to Luxury. I wish those gorgets might be seen at the day of judgement, which we have beheld worn in Paris, worth the revenue of an honest family, and wherein ingenious Artists had em∣ployed three years of their time: I much desire to know with what arms these miserable creatures would defend themselves, who have made so proud a monu∣ment of their vanity, to erect an eternall reproach of their punishment. A dissolute habit, saith S. Augu∣stine, is a messenger of the adulteries of the mind; A woman, who will appear too quaint before the world, cannot have a chaste heart before God.

They are not content with all this vast preparation, but nakednesse of necks must be exposed, which is re∣prehended by God, shamefull to their sex, injurious to nature, and scandalous to civil decency.

They are the breasts of Lamia's whereof the Pro∣phet speaketh in his Lamentations, which serve not but to nourish the impurity of Gallants, and foster their Luxury. A woman who exposeth that which should be hidden, will one day be enforced to hide that which will necessarily be made publick. A Virgin who delights to shew the nakednesse of her body, maketh it enough appear, she is not a Virgin; by how much she uncovers her self on the one side, by so much on the other she clothes her self with the brand of igno∣miny. God by his Prophet commandeth women to take adulteries out of their bosomes: but it is in the nakednesse of the neck, where they begin, to conclude afterward in all the parts of the body. They make no scruple of it, because this vice is an immortall evill, which having so many hands wherewith to do hurt, hath no eyes at all to understand it self.

Alas! whosoever had any (never so little) love of her Christianity, and respect towards God, would quickly within her self condemne all this exorbitancy, and make a thousand times more account of the counsel of Saints then of the customes of blinded souls. Tell me not (Ladies) you do it very innocently; for a wo∣man dissolute in dresses (which is the cause of the sins men commit) is as a land full of thieveries, where though the Lord be no robber, yet he becomes infa∣mous. You on your body bear Eve the penitent, who was clothed with simple skins, and you will incessant∣ly carry her in worldly pomps. All that (saith Tertul∣lian) is but the equipage and furniture of a woman half damned, which would be more fit for the set∣ting forth of her funerals, then the ornament of her body.

Take pity of so much of the world that perisheth, Take pity of your selves, enter into the way of a mo∣dest life, regulated in your habits, your conversation, your recreations, that all may therein speak, preach, and breathe the adour of virtue.

Then have you a singular means to free your selves from the importunities which assail chastity; for verily none would addresse themselves to women, if they thought not they were places that will render upon composition. A face which hath a Christian aspect drives away all the loves of the world, as the flower of the vine dissipateth serpents.

§ 9. Other Remedies, which nearer hand oppose this passion.

THese in my opinion are remedies which, at di∣stance oppose this passion, and not onely suffer it, not to come near us, but if it happen that we must grapple with it, and joyn battle with it in some urgent temptation; I advise you never to begin the combate, untill you have well weighed the end of it. Love, at first, comes to us with the visage of a Virgin, and re∣turneth from us with the body of a Serpent. He, who will know the utmost limits of it, should never make triall of its entrance.

The Antients heretofore delighted to make medals, the faces whereof were quite different and contrary; so as, if upon one side of the medal they graved an Achil∣les, on the other they figured a Thersites; if upon one side an Absolon, on the other an Esop; if on the one an Hecuba, on the other an Helena; and if upon one side a Rose, on the other an Onion. This is observed in the medall of Carnall Love, if you look upon it on one side, you shall see a figure infinitely sweet and charm∣ing, on the other a most hideous fury. A thousand and a thousand Artists have set their hand, one to the pen, another to the graving-chizzel, another to the pencil, to write, insculp, and paint the form of evil Love: but I think that Solomon, as he more sensibly felt the effects of it, gave us also more light, how to make a draught in detestation of this unhappy passion.

I have noted in the Book of Proverbs, where it de∣scribeth the detestable loves of a poor young man de∣ceived by o cunning Courtesant, that it gives four or

five properties to Carnall Love, which very notably discover the misery and imposture thereof. First, That its bed is woven with cords in the form of a little la∣byrinth, with many intricate windings. Secondly, That its chamber is perfumed with myrrh and aloes, very bitter drugs. Thirdly, That it in the beginning promi∣seth a sacrifice, and performs a slaughter. Fourthly, That the Lover who suffers himself to be deceived, is first an ox, then a sheep: and lastly, A bird taken in a snare, and wounded with a mortall arrow. Fifthly, That the house thereof is in the suburbs of hell.

All this is spoken with great sense; the beds woven with cords and hampered with so many Gordian knots, signifieth unto us the gins and attractives of evil Love. False opinion is ever at the gates of its house, which deceiveth and bewitcheth all such as come near it. It cares not in the beginning of the gain to discover to them the dreadfull events and tragedies of this passion; but it shews them a chamber wherein beauty is pre∣sented, which under a little white skin, hideth grosse or∣dures: with it are smiles, glances, flatteries, courtships, overflow of words, kisses, saucinesse, immodesty, good chear, idlenesse; this seems a goodly thing to sottish youth, which hath nothing so certain as ruine. These are the snares wherewith it surpriseth, and the knots which many times indissolubly settereth its liberty. After that comes the chamber perfumed with myrrh and aloes, wherein the slight expected pleasures are drenched in great acerbities. There, folly, temerity, liberty meet, mixed with care, terrour, distrust, tears, sighs, falshood, perjury, dolours, jealousies, execrati∣ons, rage; which caused an Antient to say, That the heart of a Lover was a city, in which, upon one and the same day were seen sports and banquets, battels and funerals. In the third place, a slaughter-house is opened, where we clearly behold that false love which insinuateth it self with so many fair resemblances, is nothing but massacres both of body and soul; and that it is not without cause, that a foolish Lover saith in the best of Comick Poets, that the first Executioner that ever was on earth, was Love, which he saith, taught men all cruelties and tortures: adding that to Love fondly, and to be racked on the wheel, was in a manner all one. In this place of slaughter, there are likewise seen Pictures of Samson, with his eyes pulled out, pour∣ing forth tears and bloud through the same channel. Of Amon, who transfixed with a deadly and dread∣full wound, yields up the ghost in a feast at the foot of his brother Absoloms table, for having violated Tha∣mar. On the other side, two armies of Gods people, who cruelly kill one another for a luxurious act com∣mitted on the person of a married wife; so that of one part, eighteen thousand men were massacred, and of the other, more then twenty and five thousand. And round about, there is nothing but halters, poison, swords, bloud, racks, gibbets, and precipices, See here the goodly Sacrifices of Lust. In the fourth chamber are beheld the transfigurations of sottish Love, where he who is strucken with it, becomes first stupid as an Ox; dull and benummed in his wits, as having a paralytick soul; and brutish, like Nebucha∣donozor, who forsook his Regall throne, to eat hay with beasts. Then he is shorn as a sheep, by taking away his flieces, and despoiling him of the goods of soul, body, wealth, and reputation, and of all that, to which a reasonable creature may pretend unto. Lastly, to cut off all hope of recovery, he is unfeathered like a bird caught in a gin, yea, his wings are taken away, which are the desires of futurely doing well, that he may perpetually have the evil in object, and an in∣ability towards good. The first chamber is very near to hell; there is to be seen darknesse, smoke, flames, and from whence are heard gnashings of teeth, despairs, and enraged complaints of unfortunate Lovers, who vomit out their souls in sinne, having made no expia∣tion by a long penance. Oh God! what is he, who beholding this picture, would ever betray his soul, heaven, and his God, to yield obedience to loathsome lust?

All this well considered, give your self a little leasure to rally your thoughts together, and to behold the disasters which wait on the experience of miserable sinne. If you be a Virgin, stain not the honour of your body; vilifie not, in your flesh on earth, a virtue to which Angels afford such glory in heaven. Above all, beware of a damnable curiosity, which cannot be known, but by becoming criminall. If you under∣stand the sinne, profit by your experience, and betray not an eternity of blessing, for a pleasure so short and wretched. If you be a master of a Family, and a man of quality, note what S. Gregory Nazianzene saith, That a man by his sinne wholly ruineth body, soul, estate, and reputation. He is terrible in his house, shamefull abroad, he serves for an executioner to a chaste wife, he is a tyrant to his children, a reproch to his friends, a scourge to his domesticks, a dishonour to his allies, a blemish to his renown, a shipwrack to his means, and a fable to all the world. If you be a maid, ever fear to become a woman, and cast not the garland of your virginity under the feet of hogs. Give not a hair of your head to them who promise you golden mountains, and when they desire you in the quest of marriage, then is the time you must least be for marriage. All you grant to their importunity, will be the subject of your disgrace; and when they shall have wedded you, should you live as chaste as Susanna, they will continually imagine, you will be li∣berall to others, of that, whereof you were prodigall to them. If you desire to marry by fancy, rather pursu∣ing your own wanton humours, then the reasonable commands of those to whom you owe your being, hold it as a crime, the most capitall you may under∣take, and confidently believe, if so you do, you will open a floud-gate to a deluge of miseries and cares, which will flow upon you through all the parts of your life. Account the resolutions you make to this purpose, as treasons, and think whosoever shall to you suggest the execution of them, will poison you by the ear to murder your chastity.

If you be a married woman, and peradventure in∣nocent enough, and of good reputation, what colour is there for you to engage your self in a crime for which husbands have furies, laws, thunders, threats; Judges for Sentence, punishments of gibbets and bloudy scaffolds; and for which, a thousand poor creatures have ended their miserable lives, surprised in the heat of sin, to passe from a temporall fire, to that which ne∣ver is quenched. If you be a man of the sword, know it is given you to defend honour, not to violate it, and that a man who suffers himself to be lead by women, what Rhodomontado's soever he make in words, he is ever a coward.

If you be a Judge or an Officer, raised up into an eminent place, degrade not your self of the honours which God hath imprinted on your fore-head, and ne∣ver mount you up to the throne of Judicature, to con∣demn your own act, and still think the purple, which will not be died but by virginall hands, ought not to be worn but on a chaste body.

If you be an Ecclesiastick, and which is more, en∣gaged to Religion or Prelacy; will you be so unnatu∣rall as ever to consent to a sinne, which cannot in your person but be a sacriledge? What a madnesse is it, that for to satisfie an infamous act of lust, you must be

either an excommunicate, or a persecutour of Jesus, Christ? Excommunicate (I say) if you forsake altars, and a persecutour of Jesus Christ, if you come to them in this horrible sinne, where you strike a nail into his hand, a lance into his side, you devour his flock, and kill his brethren by your ill example.

Carnall love, in what person soever, is still ill situ∣ate (said Epictetus) In a maid it is a shame, in a wo∣man it is a fury, in a man a lewdnesse, in youth it is a rage, in mans estate a blemish, in old-age a disgrace worthy of scorn.

You will say, all these considerations are very effe∣ctuall, but that they cure not passion already enflamed, and almost desperate of remedy.

To that I answer, we must proceed with more effica∣cy and addresse, among such as are surprised with vehe∣ment affection of which they would be free, but they find all possible repugnancies.

I approve not the course of certain directours, who think all maladies are healed by words, as if they had ears. To what purpose is it to hold long discourses, and to appoint many meditations to a sharp feaver, which is full of ravings and furious symptomes?

All the maladies of Love are not cured in one and the same manner: There are some who are engaged in the sense of the passion, but not in the consent to the sinne; which is expresly sent by God to persons ve∣ry innocent, but not entirely perfect, to punish some negligencies or some slight liberties of conversation, whereinto they have suffered themselves to slide by surprisall; that they may feel the danger of sinne by the torment they suffer, and may correct themselvs by the scent of the smoke before they be involved in the flame. And this many times lasteth long, being or∣dained as under a sentence of the divine Providence, as a punishment to become afterward a bridle to negli∣gence, and a precaution against peril.

Some also are permitted by heaven, and imposed upon certain souls who had a little too much rigour to∣wards such as were tempted, to the end, they might learn by their experience more mildly to handle suffer∣ing hearts, and not exasperate their wounds by the sharpnesse of the remedy. Witnesse that old man of whom Cassian speaketh; who having roughly enter∣tained a young religious man, that discovered his passi∣on to him, was tempted so violently, that he thereby became frantick, and understood from the venerable Abbat Apollon, this had befaln him by reason of his great harshnesse; and that although he hitherto had not felt any rebellion against chastity, it was because the devill either knew him not, or contemned him.

There are some which like tertian and quartan agues, have their accesses and recesses measured; and what diligence soever be used therein (well, the pain may be mitigated, but) the root is not taken away till it arrive to a certain period of time, wherein the sick man is insensibly cured. There are some driven away by hunger, and others overthrown by a reasonable usage, as it happeneth to melancholy Lovers, whose bodies are dry, and brains hollow; if you appoint them fasts and austerities ill ordered, you kill them. Some advise them recreation, wine, bathes, honest and pleasing company, necessary care of the body:

Some, sweet and active entertainment, which gives not leasure to the wild fancies of the mind; but this must be taken with much moderation. There are some who expect a good sicknesse, and many bloud-lettings, which may evacuate all the bloud imprinted with Ima∣ges of the thing beloved, to make a new body; others are cured by a suit, a quarrell, ambition, an ill busi∣nesse, great successe, a new state of life, a voyage, a marriage, an office, a wife. There are now very few fools of Love to be found, who neglect worth and ho∣nour to serve their passion.

There are nice and suspicious Loves, which have more of vanity then concupiscence; when one troubleth and hinders them from honestly seeing that which they love, they are distempered, and if one resist them not, they vanish away as if they had not had so much inten∣tion to love, as to vanish. It were almost necessary for many, if it may be done without sinne or scandall, to converse continually; for being somewhat of their own nature, coy, they still observe some defect in the thing beloved, which weakneth their passion, and find that the presence is much inferiour to their Idea, which is the cause they easily desist from their enterprise, ha∣ving more shame to have begun it, then purpose to continue it.

Some are enflamed by deniall, others become to∣tally cool by contempt, as proud and predominate loves, who have not learn'd to suffer the imperious car∣riage of a woman; a disdain of their mistresse, a cun∣ning trick, a coldnesse, a frown, makes them quickly break their chains. One would not believe how many humane industries there are to cure the pain of Love, but ever it is better to owe ones health to the fear of God, to Penance, to Deuotion, then to all other inventions.

For which cause, you must consider the glorious bat∣tails which so many heroick souls have waged to crush this serpent, and to walk with noble steps in the liberty of the children of God.

Some have fought with it on thorns, as S. Bennet; others on flowers, as the Martyr Nicetas, who being bound on a bed of roses with silken cords, to resign himself to the love of a courtesan, spit out his tongue in her face. Others have thrust sharp pointed reeds under their nails, as S. John the Good: others have quenched it in snows, as S. Francis: others in flames, as S. Martinian, who, being by an unchaste woman sollicited to sinne, burnt his face and hands to over-throw the strongest passion, by the most violent pain. There are many of them in the new Christianity of Japonia, who pursue the same wayes, and run to their chimney-hearths to vanquish the temptations of the flesh, thinking there is not a better remedy against this fire, then fire it self. Others have overcome this bruitishnesse by a savage life, as S. Theoclista, who being taken by Arabians, stole from them, and was thirty years hidden in the forrests, living on grasse, and clothing her self with leaves. To say truly, there is not any virtue hath cost mankind so much, as invin∣cible Chastity.

But since these manners of conquests are more admi∣rable then imitable; at least mortifie your body by some ordinary devotion. Make use of the memory of death, make use of assiduity of prayer, of labour, of care over the eyes, ears, heart, and all the senses.

Humble your spirit, and submit to obedience, that your flesh may obey you. Be not transported with ex∣travagancies, animosity, and revenge: since Anger and Love (according to the Ancients) work upon one sub∣ject, and that the same fervours of bloud which make men revengefull, will make them unchaste; fail not to heal your self by the practise of retirement, of penance, of hair-cloth, and fasting. A holy maid of Alexandria was twelve years in a sepulchre to free her self from the importunities of concupiscence; & cannot you be there one hour, so much as in thought? Another had this stratagem to elude love; for, she seeing a young man to be very much touched with her love, who ceased not to importune her with all the violent pursuits which passion could suggest; told him, she had made a vow to fast forty dayes with bread and water:

of which she would discharge her self before she would think of any thing else, and asked whether he pleased not to be a Party for the triall of his love? which he ac∣cepted: but in few dayes he was so weakned, that he then more thought upon death then love. Have not you courage to resist your enemy by the like arms? your heart faileth you in all that is generous, and you can better tell how to commit a sin then to do penance. Then chuse out that which is most necessary and reason∣able, separation, from that body so beloved which by its presence is the nourishment of your flames. Consi∣der you not, that comets which (as it is said) are fed by vapours of the earth, are maintained whilst their mo∣ther furnisheth them with food? so, love, which shineth, and burns like a false star in the bottome of your heart continually taketh its substance and sustenance from the face which you behold with so much admiration, from the conversation which entertains you in an enchanted palace full of chains and charms. Believe me, unlose this charm, stoutly take your felfe off, dispute not any longer with your concupiscence; fly away, cut the ca∣ble, weigh anchor, spread sails, set forward, go, fly: Oh, how a little care will quickly be passed over! Oh, how a thousand times will you blesse the hour of this resosolution! Look for no more letters, regard not pictures; no longer preserve favours; let all be to pre∣serve your reason. Ah! why argue you still with your own thoughts? Take me then some Angel, some Di∣rectour, who is an able, intelligent, industrious, coura∣gious man; resign your self wholly up to his advice, he will draw you out from these fires of Gomorrha, to place you in repose and safety on the mountain of the living God.

I adde also one advice (which I think very essen∣tiall) which is, infinitely to fear relapses after health, and to avoid all that may re-enkindle the flame. For, Love oft-times resembleth a snake enchanted, cast a∣sleep and smothered; which, upon the first occasi∣ons, awakeneth, and becomes more stronger and more outragious then ever. You must not onely for∣tifie your body against it, but your heart; for, to what purpose is it to be chast in your members, and be in thought an adulterer! Many stick not to entertain love in their imagination, with frequent desires, without putting them in execution: but they should consider, that Love, though imaginary, makes not an imaginary hell; and that for a transitory smoke, they purchase an eternall fire.

§ 10. Of Celestiall Amities.

BUt, it is time we leave the giddy fancies of love, to behold the beauties and lights of divine Charity, which causeth peace in battails, conquest in victories, life in death, admiration on earth, and paradise in hea∣ven it self. It is a strange thing that this subject (the most amiable of all) proves somewhat dreadfull to me, by the confluence of so many excellent Writers, antient and modern, who have handled it so worthily, since thier riches hath impoverished their successions, and their plenty maketh me in some sort to fear sterility.

They had much furtherance in their design; they took as much stuffe as they thought good, referring all that to the love of God, which is in nature, and above nature, in grace, and beyond grace. They have enlarged themselves in great volumes, the sight whereof alone seems to have much majesty: and to please their own appetites, they have said all they might possible. But here, forasmuch as concemeth my purpose, I have re∣duced my self into contractions of great figures, which will not prove troublesome, if measures and proporti∣ons be therein observed, and nothing forgotten of all that, which is most essentiall to the matter we treat. I find my self very often enforced to confine giants to the compasse of a ring, and to cover ships under the wing of a fly, drawing propositions out of a huge masse of thoughts and discourses, to conclude them in a little Treatise, not suffering sublimity to take ought away of their facility, nativenesse of their majesty, sha∣dows of their lustre, nor superficies of their di∣mensions.

Besides, that which renders this my discourse the lesse pleasing, is, that speaking to men of the world, I cannot disguise the matter in unknown habits, splen∣did and pompous words, conceptions extatick; I cannot perswade them that a Seraphin hath pene∣trated rhe heart of one with a dart of fire, and that another hath had his sides broken by the strength of the love of God. I must pursue or∣dinary wayes, and teach practises more nearly ap∣proching to our humanity.

I am then resolved to shew there are celestiall Amities, which great souls contract with God, that their condition is very excellent and most happy, and that the practice of them must be∣gin in this world, to have a full fruition of them in the other.

Carnall spirits, which onely follow animall wayes, have much a-doe to conceive how a man can become passionate in the love of God, and think there is no af∣fection but for temporall and visible things: It is a Love too high (say they) to transferre their affections into heaven: It is a countrey wherein we have no commerce; There comes neither letter nor message thence; No ships arrive on that coast; It is a world separated from ours by a great Chaos wholly impene∣trable, How would you I love God, since he is all spirit, and I a body? He is Infinite, I finite. He so High, and I so low. It is a kind of insolency to go about to think of it. Behold, how spirits, ignorant of heavens mysteries, do talk. But I maintain upon good grounds, that we are made to place our love in the heart of God, and that if we do not seasonably take this way; well we may go on, but never shall we arrive at repose,

First the Philosopher Plato hath worthily observed, that the love we have here below, is, a remembrance of the first, fair sovereign and most pure of all beauties, which is the Divinity. Our soul, which is the blast of his mouth, the image of his bounty, the representation of his power, as it beareth so lively characters of his Majesty, hath (as it were) also, not heeding it, a generous passion towards him: unlesse it be infected by the breath of the serpent, and obstructed by va∣pours of sensualty; it seeks for him; it speaks to him in all creatures: It beholdeth him through so many veils which nature hath spread before it in so divers objects. But it often falleth out, that, charmed with present pleasures, it is so much delighted with beauti∣full workmanships, that it forgetteth the work-man: It embraceth momentary beauties for eternall verities: It takes the shadow for the body: It creates to it self an Empire in banishment, and a haven in shipwrack. This carnall piece, which is ravished with the contem∣plation of this goodly face, will not stay upon flesh: It feeleth there is some invisible hand which shoots arrows at it, amidst the vermilion of roses, and the whitenesse of lillies: it well knoweth not what trans∣ports it, what entranceth it, what worketh these trans∣animations in it: It is not the body which must rot, but it is the shadow of the first-fair upholds it self in the frailty of dying things, and incessantly causeth returns to the first origen, in souls which know how to profit by theri wounds.

O how attractive is the Beautie! O should it on a sudden take away the veil from all mortall eyes who court it; the world in an instant would dissolve under its much to be adored rayes, souls would fly out of bo∣dies, and totall nature would impetuously affect its de∣lights.

It is so naturally imprinted on the heart of man, that Hell it self cannot forget it, since the evil rich man laid on the coals of so unfortunate a lodging, did for his first act, lift up his eyes to heaven, as de∣sirous to look for the lovely face which he had eternal∣ly lost.

Secondly, I will deliver an excellent reason, which I draw out of S. Augustine, to convince us that there is some very forcible inclination which insensibly mo∣veth us to the love of God: which is the cause that even our vices and exorbitancies (not reflecting thereon) love some perfection of the Divinity, although not re∣gulated, nor limited in the bounds wherewith it ought to be beloved. Pride contends for heighth; and what is higher then God, who sits upon Thrones, predomina∣teth over Dominations, who governeth Principalities, and makes Heaven bow even to the Abysse, under the shadow of his Majesty?

Ambition passionately seeketh after honours; and who hath more honour then God, who seeth glory to be hatched in his own bosome, for whome so many Al∣tars smoke, for whom so many sacrifices burn, under whom so many Diadems bow, to whow so many Sceptres obey, before whom so many States, King∣domes, and Empires▪ are but a drop of dew? Pow∣er will make it self great; and who is more formi∣dable then this great Judge, for whom Thunders roar, Lightnings fly, Thunder-stones shiver lofty rocks, for whom elements fight, and nature dresseth up its scaf∣folds, to prosecute offenders even in hell; there being neither Place, Time, Heighth, or Power which hath abi∣lity to deliver it self out of his hands? Flattery, and Complacence will make it self to be beloved; and what is more lovely then the sweetnesse of the charity of this good Father, which distilleth like unto a celestiall Man∣na upon all the creatures of the Universe? Curiosity af∣fecteth the study of wisdome; And what is wiser then God, who seeth all within himself, who hath Abysses of knowledges in his heart, riches of eternall sapience in his bosome, for whom Time hath no prescription, nature no veil, Heighth no heighth, and abysses no depth: Who is the Father of Sciences, Creatour of thoughts, Treasure of Eloquence; who dazeleth all humane Ability, who taketh his Sages from among Ideots, and out of the dumb, raiseth his Oratours. Lazynesse seeks out a life soft and peacefull continually fixed upon its repose, and the contentments of the flesh and spirit; and where shall we find the repose out of God, since it is he who is perpetually ingulphed in the delights of a pure tran∣quillity? Luxury ardently desireth pleasures, and will satisfie all the desires of its heart; And God is he not the plenitude of joy, an abundance which never fails, a sweetnesse incorruptible, a feast which consu∣meth not, a perpetuall Theatre of comsorts a Flood of most pure contentments, which floweth overall Para∣dise? Avarice will possesse much, it stretcheth out the hands of a Harpy over the goods of another; It gar∣boileth the world, it disquieteth the earth; It would willingly delve into hell, it pleadeth, it wrangleth, it as∣sails, it defendeth to satiate its covetousnesse, yet still is hungry: For what is he that possesseth all but the prime of the rich, who is the beauty of fields, the lustre of flo∣wers, the fecundity of fruits, the wealth of minerals, and the fertility of totall nature? Envie is troubled about supereminency, and will have the highest place, account∣ing him an enemy, who precedeth; And is it not the eter∣nall Father, who is King of Glory, who seeth all to be much lower then himself, and seeth nothing beyond what he is? Choler will revenge for it, it striketh at heaven, it troubleth the earth, it causeth lightning and tempests, which raise so many Tragedies in the world; And who better knowes how to avenge sins then the so∣veraign Monarch of the Universe, for whom extermi∣nating Angels carry the sword of Justice, for whom hell reserveth treasures of flames eternall?

Now, I demand of you, if it be true, that even our vices are in love with some perfections which are in God, how can our virtues but bear a singular affection towards him? why should they not be enamoured of his beauties? why not sigh after his attractives; since they are his reall daughters?

Some one will say, it were but reasonable, if God, to make himself beloved, would become visible to men; but he is a secret so hidden, that our poor spirit seeking for him, finds more confusion, then light. Verily, I like Mercury Trismegistus; for he stopping his mouth, who complained of the invisibility of God: Hold thy peace (thou profane fellow) saith he, and if thou hast eyes, confesse God is visible, and that he sheweth him∣self in as many mirrours as there are creatures in this great Universe.

A man needs to be a Philosopher but a little to learn to love; let him see, know and study nature in all its works; let him hear the harmonies of Gods consort, to understand in some measure, the perfections of the workman. Those little golden, and azure shels, which make a lodging for certain fishes, more magnificent then Solomons Palace; Those cob-web-lawns, and those tiffanies, which compose the body of flowers with an exquisite delicacy; Those waves, which curle on the current of rivers; those gentle western blasts which bear comfort and health on their wings; those huge theatres of seas; that vast extent of plains; those meteors so artificially varied; those little eyes of hea∣ven, which shew themselves so soon as night spreads its mantle on the inferiour regions of the world; all that is seen, all that is heard, all that is touched, all that is handled; cease not to recount unto us the love of our Father.

One must never have seen the sun, not to have love for God; he must have lived like a hog, with his head in the mire, and his eyes in a trough, to say he knoweth not what the Divinity is. To speak truly, this great starre is the visible sonne of the first Bright; the Image of the sovereign King; the eye of the world; the heart of nature; it daily speaketh to us out of the gates of the East, with as many tongues as it hath raies. This great supervisor of the fornaces of the universe travelleth throughout totall nature. He lighteth up the stars; in heaven he createth crowns, and rain-bowes in the air; on earth, flowers and fruits; in the sea, pearls; and in the bosome of rocks, saphires and diamonds: he throws fire and vigour into all living creatures; his presence causeth alacrity, and his absence (insensibly) horrour and melancholy in all nature. His motion so rapid, his cir∣cumvolution so even, that, so regular harmony of nights and dayes, those reflections, which are as fathers of so many Essences, set the whole Divinity before our eyes. O what a goodly thing it is to talk face to face with those great forrests, which are born with the world to discourse with the murmur of waters, the warbling of birds in the sweetnesse of solitude and of so many creatures, which (according to S. Denis) are the veils and Tapistries of the great Temple! There it is, where God accoasteth on all sides, where our soul is stirred up with its own thoughts, dischargeth it self of matter, and entreth into a great commerce with Intelli∣gencies. When I behold all the perquisites of Organs,

where Musick is in perfection; I stay not on the Iron, Lead. Wood, the Piper nor on the bellows; my spirit flyeth to that hidden spirit which distributeth it self with so melodious proportionable divisions throughout the whole Instrument. So, when I contemplate the world, I stick not on the body of the Sun, the stars, the elements, the stones, the metals, the plants, nor the li∣ving creatures; I penetrate into that secret spirit which insinuateth it self thereunto, with such admira∣ble power, such ravishing sweetnesse, and incompara∣ble Harmony. I infinitely love him, because he is fair, since he made all the beauties which are presented before mine eyes; Because he is good; because he is wise, since he communicateth himself with so much profusion: since he so well tempered the consonancies of the whole world; I love him, because I know he is mine, and I am wholly his. Were I not touched with his beauty, his wisdome, his goodnesse, perpetually his benefits would soften my heart, Me thinks I meet him every where, with a hundred arms, and as many hands to do me good. I neither see place, room, time, or mo∣ment, which is not figured with his liberalities.

I am clothed with his wooll, fed with his Granary, warm'd with his wood, served by his Officers; I live in him, I breathe by him, I have nothing which is not his Inheritance. It is neither Father nor Mother, great one, Lord, or King, which gave me wealth, honour, and estate. Well they may be instruments of my hap∣pinesse but they are not the cause. They were nothing for so many years; They came into the world as poor, as I; they daily return from it, into dust; I feel my necessities and dependences; and I know they cannot be supplyed, but by a necessary, and independent Essence.

We must not say, we have not commerce enough with him; great things are for the little, and the rich for the necessitous. See we not that heaven is all for the earth? doth it cause one sprig of an herb to grow, in it self? produceth it one sole flower among its stars? It giveth all it hath, and is perpetually content with what it is. So God is all for us, as if man were his God, saith S. Thomas. If we be miserable, he is not there∣fore disdainfull; if he be high, he is not therefore far di∣stant from our inferiour condition. He is all, in all things; ever present; continually doing somewhat; He hath dugs of bounty which put him to pain, if he stream not upon us. We see him to come from all parts, and his approch is not mute; for, the best part of us is spirituall, which maketh commerce easie unto us, with a God, who is all spirit. How often find we our soul to be raised above it self, and to be transported with thoughts, knowledges, lights, joyes, pleasures, consolations, hopes, confidences, courages, and antipasts of glory, which we acknowledge to be above our strength! It is God then, who worketh by them in us, who enters into our soul, as a Master into his house, who becomes our guest, our friend, our Doctour, and our Protectour. We need not seek for him in heaven, he is in our heart (saith the Emperour Antonine) and there he uttereth his oracles. There it is, where he enterteineth us, and teacheth us, we are his children, and reserveth for us an admirable inhe∣ritance.

When it was said to little Nabuchodonozor, who was exposed in his infancy and bred up in the house of a Peasant, whose son he took himself to be; Courage (child) you are not made to drive Oxen, and till the ground; there is another profession expecteth you: you are the son of a great Prince, who keeps the prime king∣dome of the world for you: These raggs must be chan∣ged into robes of cloth of gold; this ugly Hat into a Diadem; this Spade into a Sceptre; This Cottage into a Palace, this servitude into an Empire: For whom shall treasures, officers, services, arms, greatnesse, plea∣sures, joyes, and feasts, be but for you, who art the heir of the Assyrian throne? Do not we think that upon the recitall of these words, this young man felt a flame which spread it self over his heart, that he was touched to the quick, with his extraction, and ravished with love towards a Father, by whom he was born so great? And have we not the like apprehensions, when faith dictateth unto us; Thou art not created to live perpe∣tually among mire and dirt, and to be tyed to a wretch∣ed, frail, and perishable body to walk upon thorns, and to embroil thy self in the tolls and cares of a mortall life; there are above palaces of stars, of Intelligencies, of incomprehensible lights, of ineffable beauties which expect thee, of crowns prepared for thee, of sceptres made to fill thy hands: All times are for thee, and all which Nature endeavoureth here below, is but to contribute to thy contentment. Thou art the son of a noble Father, who makes men happy at his pleasure. He loves thee as his heart, and would have thee near him, to accomplish thee with all his dearest delights and the highth of his glories. And what can a soul do, which learns all this from faith; but raise it self above all concupiscences of flesh; but love, but dilate it self, but readily mix with this most pure spirit, which invi∣teth it in all creatures?

Have we yet the heart to say, we have not familia∣rity enough with God; and that he is of too high a strain to love him, when we think upon Jesus, who for us descended from the highest part of heaven to the slime of Adam. who made himself our brother, who sucked the dugs of our Mother, who spake our tongue who took upon him our semblance, who charged him∣self with our burdens, who on himself laid our mise∣ries, to turn them into felicities? He is that Merchant who is come out of a happy and rich countrey full of treasures, glory, and greatnesse, which were to him more naturall, then rayes to the Sun; and yet, being lodged (as it were) with us, in a silly Cottage, hath dispoiled himself for us, wholly inebriated with the extasies of love; hath made himself poor to make us rich, weak to strengthen us, contemptible to render us glorious, full of sufferings to beautifie us, and a man, that we might be Gods. This is the man who hath been able to contract all Gods extent under a little clay, who went not a step which was not worthy to produce a star, who carried the Divinity upon the ends of his fin∣gers, whose life was a flash of lightning, his word a thunder, his virtues lessons and actions, prodigies. Hath he not loved the ungratefull, when he heaped on his own body the paines and sufferings of all ages, making himself of a King of glory, a man of dolours, to pur∣chase pleasures for us with as many wounds as he had members, as many crosses as we have sins!

After all this, he gives himself to us in the Sacra∣ment, which he hath instituted as an abridgement of his miracles, wherein he is incorporated within our heart, inour soul, as one piece of wax melted within another. I readily here remember what an antient lover said, that love made a Butt of his heart, where, so soon as it had shot all its arrows, it threw it self as an enflamed dart into the bottome of his breast, to set him all on fire, What arrows, and what shafts, flying on every side, in Nature, in Grace, what benefits, what fa∣vours, what Amities, what forward affections, for which man still continued obdurate, till Jesus wholly gaining him, did descend into his entrails fully re∣plenished with love and flames, and heavenly ar∣dours? Is it not time to pronounce Anathema with S. Paul, against him who loveth him not after his co∣ming in this manner, to captivate us by his bounty?

To speak sincerely, he must needs be amiable, since (according to the Canticles) he is wholly composed of

desires, and satisfactions, and that all the just sigh af∣ter him. We have heard talk through so many Ages of the most accomplished beauties of certain ereatures who have drawn many Amorists after them: but never have we seen one sole woman to gain the affection of an entire City, Province, or Kingdome. From whence cometh it, that there is not any beauty, but that of Je∣sus Christ, which enchaineth Cities, Empires, and Mo∣narchies? From whence cometh it, that so many Kings and Queens have followed him through For∣rests, Thorns, and among Rocks, even to the abandon∣ing of themselves? From whence cometh it, that so many millions of souls, the wisest, most purified, and most courageous on the earth, have loved him even to the suffering of flames and wheels, in the dislocation of bones, and the dismembring of their whole bodies? From whence cometh it, that all, which is most pure, and most eminent in the world, daily dissolveth for him, and that so many hearts melt for his service in ho∣nourable flames which purifie them, without consu∣ming them? Verily, we may say, there is nothing which equalleth the excellency of celestiall Amities: and that, well to place your love; you must fix it in the heart of God.

§ 11. Of the Nature of Divine Love. Of its Essence, Qualities, Effects, and Degrees.

THe great Anachoret Raymond went very high when he said. The love of God was an influence of Eternity: For it is true that we, coming from an e∣ternall God, have an infinite desire to make our Being perpetuall. And for this purpose, we tie our selves by love to so many things, to live again in them, and by them: but they being transitory and frail, we there find no support, untill God hath poured his holy love into our heart, which is the true influence of Eternity, that alone can purifie our life, and eternize our souls.

We then must not feign to our selves, that the love of God proceeds meerly from our own strength, but we must hearken to the decision of the Councell of Orange which saith, that to love God, is a gift from God: It is he who inspireth the love with which he will be loved, and who hath loved us even in disfavour, to transport us to favour: Whereby it appeareth, that this fair love is nought else but a celestiall quality infu∣sed into the soul, by which we love God above all, and all for God.

Now, I imagine with my self, that he is born in our hearts, in such a manner, as pearls grow in their shells. The mother of pearl is first pierced by a ce∣lestiall influence, as with an arrow, fiery, and sharp, which sollicits and importuneth it, to dispose it self to this excellent production. Which is the cause, that it spreads, openeth, and dilates it self, to receive the dew distilled into it from the air, and having moist∣ned it, it digesteth, concocteth, and transfigureth it into this little miracle of nature, which is with so much curiosity sought after. Behold what passeth in a soul; when it bringeth forth this precious love, it is prevented by a speciall grace from the Divine Goodnesse, which at first gives it a distaste of all things in the world, and fixeth a generous spur in the heart, to excite, awaken, and enflame it to the quest of so great a good. Then it extendeth, dilates, and opens all its gates to the Holy Ghost, who descen∣deth into it, as the dew of Hermon by qualities, and effects admirable, which through free-will it embra∣ceth; and ties, and habituateth it self therein, concei∣ving and forming Jesus Christ (as saith S. Paul:) Then is the time, when this divine love is conceived, which is no sooner born, but it causeth a rejoycing in the heart of man, like unto that which happened in the house of Abraham at Isaacs nativity. It is a celestiall laughter, an extraordinary jubilation, an expansion of all the fa∣culties and functions of the spirit, and will. This little Monarch is no sooner born, but it begins to command, and sits on the heart as in its Throne: All powers do it homage; all passions render it service. All the virtues applaud at its coronation, and confesse they hold of it, and are all in it. He who is once well instructed in cha∣rity aboundeth with all riches, and hath the full pleni∣tude of the spirit, (according to the Apostles) and is a Tree grafted with siens of all perfection, and which fail not to bring forth their fruits.

Sciences, and virtues are, that, to us, which oars to vessels, what the viaticum to travellers, what light to blear-eyes, what arms to souldiers: but charity alone is the repose of the wearied, the Countrey of Pilgrims, the light of the blind, the Crown of the victorious, Faith, and the knowledge of God carry us to our coun∣trey; Hope maintaineth us the other virtues defend us: but where charity is perfect, as it is in glory, one no longer believes any thing, because it seeth all, one hopes for nought, because he possesseth all.

Temperance combateth against Concupiscence, Pru∣dence against errour, Fortitude against adversity, Ju∣stice against inequality: But in perfect charity, there is a perfect chastity, which standeth not in need of the arms of temperance, having no blemish of impurity; A perfect knowledge, which expecteth not any help from ordinary Prudence, since it hath no errours; a perfect Beatitude, which needeth not Fortitude to conquer adversities, since to it nothing is uneasie; a So∣vereign peace which imploreth not the aid of Justice a∣gainst inequality, since all therein is equall.

For in a word, what is charity but a temperate love without lust, A prudent love without errour, a strong love without impatience, a just love without inequali∣ty? Faith is the first day of our Creation, which dri∣veth away darknesse; Hope is the second, which makes a firmament for us, and which divideth waters from waters, things transitory from eternall. Temperance is the third, which arraungeth the waters, and storms of passions in their proper element, and causeth the land of our heart to appear, which sendeth up vapours to God, that are its sighs.

Prudence, is the fourth, which lighteth up in us the sun of understanding, and the lights of knowledge, Fortitude is the fifth, which sustains us in the Ocean of adversities (not suffering us to corrupt as fishes in salt-waters, and as birds) above the Tempest. Justice the sixth, for it gives us to command over our passions, as Adam who on the same day he was created, obtained it over all living creatures. But charity is the seventh day The Symbole of Glory, which contracteth all delights in the circle of its Septenary. And how can it but ab∣bridge all Theology, since it abbridgeth God himself, and that we have cause to speak to him in such terms, as Saint Zeno did. O love what hast thou done? Thou hast changed God into Man, Thou hast contracted him, drawing him out of the lustre of his Majesty, to make him a pilgrime on earth; Thou hast shut him in the prison of a virginall womb the space of nine moneths: Thou hast annihilated the empire of death, when thou taughtest God to dy.

Love thus acknowledged by all the virtues, mount∣eth as on a chariot of Glory, maketh it self conspicuous with heroick, and noble qualities: It is pious, since it em∣ployeth all its thoughts on God: It is generous, and ma∣gnanimous, since it is ever disposed to great designs: It is liberall, as that which spareth nothing: It is

strong, not yielding to any of all those obstacles, which present themselves to divert the course of its intentions: It is just, equally distributing rewards to merit: It is temperate admitting no excesses but of love: It is pru∣dent, having eyes alwayes upon its deportments: It is witty, to find out a thousand inventions: It is violent without eagernesse, active without participation, sage without coldnesse, good without remissnesse, and calm without idlenesse.

But I must tell you, though its perfections be with∣out number, you shall chiefly know it by three quali∣ties, which will make it appear unto you, plyant, obli∣ging, and patient.

I say plyant; for there is nothing but fires, desires, sweetnesse, affections, joyes, admirations, extasies, pleasures, transportments for its well-beloved. This is the State, which the great Origen figureth unto us of S. Mary Magdalen, when he saith, that by the strength of love she was dead to all the objects of the world. She had her thoughts so employed upon her Je∣sus, that she was almost insensible; she had eyes and saw not, ears and heard not, senses and felt not; she was not where she was: for she was wholly where her Master was, although she knew not where he was. She knew no other art but that of love, she had unlearnt to fear, to hope, to rejoyce, to be sad; all in her turned to love, by reason of him whom she loved above all: The Angels who descended from heaven to comfort her, were to her troublesome, nor could she endure them she stood upright near the sepulchre, where in the place of death she found her heaven.

Now as in efficacious plyantnesses are flowers of love which never bring forth any fruit; so, it takes a second quality, which is, to be liberall, and much obli∣ging: For this cause the hands of the bridegroome (ac∣cording to the Canticles (are all of gold, and round; to shew there is not any thing crooked, or rough to stay his gifts: besides, they are all filled with pretious stones, to figure his benefits unto us; Jacinths, and Diamonds which he scattereth, and bestoweth as liberally, as the sand of the sea. The Hebrew saith, that the same hands are vessels of gold replenished with the sea because love is an Ocean of liberalities, which is never exhausted.

There remains nothing but to be patient, which it doth with so much grace, that one may say, its yoke hath wings, not weight. The heart of it, oft-times is in∣vironed with thorns, and it sweareth they are roses. It swims in a sea of worm-wood and faith it is sweet wa∣ter: It is covered all over with wounds, and protesteth they are Pearls, and Rubies; It is overwhelmed with affairs, and maintains they are recreations; It is sur∣charged with maladies, and they are sports; with ca∣lumnies, and they are blessings; with death, and that is life,

These three qualities cause twelve very notable ef∣fects in love, which are, To love God above all, and, in comparison of him to despise all. To account ones self unhappy, if but a very moment diverted from his sweet Ideas. To do all that may be, and to endure all things impossible to come near him. To embellish, and adorn our soul to please him. To be alwayes corporal∣ly present with him, as in the Sacrament; or spiritually, as in prayer. To love all which is for him, and to hate all which is not for him. To desire that he may be decla∣red, confessed, praised and adored by all the world. To entertein all the most sublime thoughts (that is possible) of his dear person. To passe over with sweetnesse all the acerbities suffered in his service. To accommodate ones self to all his motions, and to receive both sad and joyfull things with his countenance. To languish perpe∣tually with the desires to behold him face to face; and lastly, To serve him without anxiety, or expectation of reward.

These things being so sublime; we must not pre∣sume to arrive thither at the first dash. It is very fit to file, and continually to polish our soul by long servi∣ces and goodly actions, to arrive in the end at the hap∣py accomplishment of love. For this cause there are reckoned certain degrees by which the soul is led to the pallace of this triumphant Monarch.

There is a love, as yet but young, which doth onely begin, and hath five degrees, within the compasse whereof, it dilates it self to passe to a much greater per∣fection. It beginneth first by the taste of the word of God, and the sweetnesse it feels by the reading of good books, which is a sign that a soul already hath an arrow of true love in the heart. This taste maketh a man take good resolutions for the amendment of his manners, and order of his life: this resolution is followed by a happy penance which bewaileth all the imperfections of the life past with a bitter distaste, and a fit satisfaction. By this way, we proceed to the love of a neighbour, and a beginning is made by a tender compassion of his af∣flictions, and a rejoycing at his prosperities: Lastly, or addicts himself much, to many very laudable good works, and to the holy exercises of mercy. Behold here a most sincere condition, and to be wished in many men of honour, who may therein persist with great constancy.

The second order comprehendeth those which are yet more strong, and it conteineth five other degrees. First, they are very assiduous in prayer, wherein they are much enlightned with the knowledge of verities, and celestiall maximes. Secondly, they obtain an ex∣cellent purity of conscience, which they cleanse and po∣lish by an enquiry into their interiour; holily curious, and perfectly disposed. Thirdly, they feel the exteriour man much weakned by a generous mortification, where∣with concupiscence is quailed, Fourthly, followeth the vigour of the inward man, who finds him self happily enabled to all the functions of the spirit, with a certain facility which becometh as it were naturall to him. Fifthly, appeareth a great observance of the law of God, which maketh him apprehend the least atomes of sin, through a notable fidelity with which he desires to serve his master. In this rank are many good religious who lead a life most accomplished in devotion, and in the continuall mortification of senses.

Lastly, in the third order of perfect lovers, are the great effects of perfect charity, as is, not to have any humane and naturall considerations in all ones actions; but to tread under foot all respect of flesh and bloud, to defend truth: Not to stick to earth by any root; but to account all things worse then a dunghill, to gain Je∣sus Christ: to run before the Crosse, and to bear the grea∣test adversities with a generous patience: to love ones enemies: to do good to persecutours; and in conclusi∣on, freely to expose ones life for the salvation of a neigh∣bour. To say truly, they had need to be persons most heroick, to go so far; and there is no doubt, but this is the full accomplishment of love.

Notwithstanding, nine degrees also are added of Se∣raphick love, which concern Contemplatives; which are, The solitude of a heart throughly purified from all the forms of Creatures: Silence in a sublime tranquillity of passions: Suspension, which is a mean degree be∣tween Angell and man: Inseparability, which ad∣hereth to its welbeloved for an eternity, not admit∣ting the least disunion: Insatiability, which never is satiated with love: Indefatigability, which endureth all labours without wearinesse: Languour, which cau∣seth the soul to dissolve and melt on the heart of its be∣loved: Extasie, which causeth a destitution of the ve∣getative and sensitive soul, totally to actuate the intel∣lectuall. Deiformity, which is a degree approch∣ing

near to beatifick love. Then is there made in the soul a deluge of mysterious and adorable love, which drowneth all humane thoughts, which swalloweth all earthly affections, which flieth to the superiour region of man, which hideth all that is eminent in sciences, transcendent in virtue, great in imagination, and which causeth the spirit to forget it self, and to look on nothing but heaven.

§ 12. The Practise of Divine Love.

THe love of God is a science inspired, not studied, where the infusion of the Holy Ghost is more eloquent then all Tongues, and more learned then all Pens. That which comes to us by art, oft-times begins very late, and quickly endeth. That which is given us by the favour of heaven, comes very rea∣dily, and never is dost. Those who think to learn the love of God by precepts onely, croak like Ra∣vens, and have nothing solid: such as have it by grace are Angels, who are raised into the highest region, and poize themselves on their wings. Grave dis∣courses, and good books fail not to contribute much to this purpose, as we lately may have tried by the treatise which the R. F. Stephen Binet hath pub∣lished, fully replenished with the holy ardours of ex∣traordinary devotion, and which seem to have been dictated by love it self, and conceived in that fire, which Jesus came to enkindle on earth, to enflame the whole world.

If then you desire to profit in this love, let your en∣deavour be continually to beg it of God with the most fervent prayers which the holy Ghost shall suggest, to esteem it above all worldly things, and to apply all your actions to this happy conquest.

Be ye very carefull to cut off from your heart all impediments which may give it any obstacle; for if you should imagine to entertain it in a soul sullied with terrestriall affections; it were to ask a most preci∣ous Balm, to put it in an unclean vessel. We have as many Idolls in our heart, as passions, opposite to the law of God.

Be not satisfied with taking away vices, but stifle the remembrance of worldly things, which may in you occasion any exorbitancy. Withdraw your mind as much as you can from a thousand imaginations, which fly as aiery spirits about your heart when it begins to take wings to its repose. Perplex not your self like∣wise, more then is reason, with affairs both spirituall and temporall, which cause a thousand cares to arise, and onely serve to quench the vigour of devotion, and to draw out the juice of piety. Fly acerbities of heart, apprehensions, and servitudes, accustoming your self to do all with a spirit of sweetnesse, and holy liberty.

Consequently make a practise of the love of God, undertaking it with a resolute purpose, a great applica∣tion of mind, and employing all possible industries to profit therein, as one would in affecting some great bargain, some very considerable office, or affair, most important. For it is a very unworthy thing to behold all despicable Trades full of artisans, who kill them∣selves to find out inventions that may set forth the profession, and that onely the occupation of the love of God, should have workmen so lazy, and unnaturall.

After all, following the counsel of S. Augustine, consider what the children of darknesse often do to pro∣sper in worldly loves and amities. They strive to insinu∣ate themselves by some good office, they consider on every side the person of him of whom they would be beloved, they study his nature, his inclinations, his de∣sires, his affairs, and they oblige him, ere he is aware, in what he desireth most. Are they entred into his ami∣ty? they persist in the practise of great assiduities; they have entertainments and admirable correspondencies; they delight, they serve, they mingle the recreative with the serious: They apply all they see, all they think up∣on, all they invent, all they hope, all they possesse, all they say, all they write, to the contentment of this crea∣ture. They draw tribute out of all for it, and, if it be possible, will give it its hearts-wish in all things: They transform themselves into its humours and likings: They espouse its loves, enmities, quarrels, and revenges: They publish its virtues, with discretion conceal its fa∣vours: they have tricks to pacifie its anger, to stir up its languours, to open its heart, to hold their possession, and if it be needfull, will passe through ten purgatories of fire, ice, tears, bloud, torrents, seas, enflamed serpents, gnawing vultures, to arrive at one of its pretentions. O reproch, that all this is done for a frivolous worldly love, which oftentimes is the Hangman of life, the gulf of Reason, the Hell of souls; and that there is none but Jesus, for whom they will not so much ss stir a finger!

Make a resolution to insinuate your self into his friendship by some notable Act, which you know to be acceptable to him, and which he already hath required of you by so many inspirations. Enter into his house, and into his bosome: render him assiduity in your pray∣ers, your meditations, your communions, and in all your exercises of devotion. Learn to speak to him every hour by jaculatory prayers, as one would to some friend tenderly loved, and vehemently affected. Referre all creatures to his love, and love nothing but him, but in him, but for him: publish his greatnesse every where, make a thousand instruments of his glory: but conceal his favours by a profound humility. Behold men your like, as his images; Engrave all his words, all his actions, all his wounds in the bottome of your heart; make your selves like him, as much as you may; bear him on your flesh, suffering for him, not onely with patience, but alacrity, through a desire of conformity. Behold the principall means by which one may come to the love of God, and to the unitive way.

Observe there withall the three Conditions which S. Bernard prescribeth, to wit to love sweetly, prudent∣ly, strongly: sweetly without violence; prudently with∣out illusion; strongly without separation.

But there being nothing which more forcibly mo∣veth the soul, then Example; I advise you, often to pre∣sent unto your self the love of God and Jesus Christ, which should be the source of ours; and to make a sa∣cred posy to your self of all the lovers who were most vehement in Divine Love.

Reflect (O Christian soul) upon the chariot of Che∣rubins in Ezechiel, and thou shalt learn what God would have of thee. I see (saith the Prophet) a clear and bright fire in the midst of these living Creatures, and from this fire I see lightning flashes to issue forth. This is the fire of the love of God, and these lightnings are the eruptions he made, by communicating himself to man. Consider (O soul redeemed with the bloud of the sonne of God) that thou canst not live without love; on what side soever thou turnest, thou necessarily must love; and God, foreseeing this necessity, would that thou lovest like him, that thou take the object of his love for the object of thine own, his manner of loving, for thine, his scope and contentment, for thine. And where thinkest thou hath God the heavenly Father placed his love from all eternity, but in himself? Because he alone is worthy to be originally beloved as the source and fountain-head of all beauties, and bounties, which are the two baits of affections, excessively; as he who hath neither end nor beginning; He loves him∣self by his holy Spirit, which is his own substance, and he loves himself necessarily, because love is his

Essence. O soul! if thou couldest a little lift up thine eyes surcharged with so many terrestriall humours, and behold in the bosome of the heavenly Father the eter∣nall Fire-brand which he gives for a rule of thy love; what secrets, and what mysteries of love wouldst thou learn? there mightest thou observe the four conditions which constitute all the excellency of love to wit, Pu∣rity, Simplicity, Fervour, and Communication.

First, thou must learn to purifie thy love, this love being most pure and excellent, for it is God himself, produced in the bosome of God: it is the first of San∣ctities, holy by origin, by object, by example and by form; It is the holy Ghost burning in the heart of the eternall Father. S. Thomas teacheth us a very singular piece of Theology in the Treatise he wrote of charity, where he saith, every thing placed in another is measu∣red and adapted to that which receiveth it, as water, which is round, in a round vessell, and square, in a square vessell. For, if the thing received be lesser then that which received it; it by this reception gets a state of excellency, and a Title of worth above its Nature: so, (saith he) the visible species are ennobled in our eyes, and the Intelligible, in our understanding. This admitted; I say, that if we onely consider the love of God, in that manner as we do in men, as drawn from exteriour objects; yet would it be a matter of a marvel∣lous value to be received into the heart of God, and to be conform to the Divini••y: but when Divinity telleth us, that this love produced of God, is the substance of God received in God hinself, and inseparable from his essence; what greatnesse, and, what purity must we conceive in this love of God? and if he will, that this same love (which is all his) should be not onely the object, but the efficient cause of ours by the infusions he worketh in our hearts; O how much shame ought we to have, so to defile our love with contaminations and impurities of the earth?

Secondly, you must know, this love is most simple, and totally as well in this unity as in the Essence of God, and although he love creatures, as the tokens and footsteps of his bounty, which are in kinds so manifold, in multitude so innumerable; yet is he not devided, nor severed, because he gathers all those creatures together in his bosome, where their beginning and end is and therein uniteth them, as rayes of his benignity contra∣cted and drawn together into one Centre in a burning∣glasse: Thereupon thou shouldst be sorry to see thy heart torn, and divided by so many objects which di∣vert thy affections, and hinder thee from simply giving them to God, for whom they are made.

Thirdly, thou must understand, this love is most ar∣dent, since the bosome of the eternall father is as a great Fornace which with its flames enkindleth all the chaste loves that burn, whether they be in heaven, in the heart of Angels, or whether on earth, in the souls of the elect. Ah! how much oughtst thou to blush, and to be asha∣med, considering, how, in stead of enkindling thy love with the sacred fires of this eternall fornace, thou hast sought to beg a profane fire from the eyes of a wretch∣ed woman, which hath burnt thee to the bones, thou hast gone (door after door) to all sorts of creatures, opening thy heart to forraign flames, whereby thou hast gone about to burn even the sacrifice of the li∣ving God? Ah? Thou insensible creature, knowest thou not that Nadab and Abihu, for putting ordinary fire into their Incensories, when they came to the Al∣tar of the synagogue, were devoured, as unfortunate victimes, with the proper coles of their own sacrifices? and dost thou think it will be lawfull for thee to ap∣proach the Altar of the eternall Testament with this for∣raign love which thou lodgest in thy heart? Art not thou afraid to hear those thundring words, This Sa∣crifice shall be a punishment to thee, since thou hast made a sinne of thy propitiation?

Lastly, (faithfull soul) thou shouldst know the love of God is most communicative, for it is streamed forth in his eternall productions by two emanations, of un∣derstanding, and will, as by two Conduit-pipes of Glories, and beauties. And not content with this, this eternall communication being involved in a profound obscurity unknown to all creatures; he hath cleft the cloud in five places, and is come to communicate him∣self to the world by five admirable wayes of his ma∣gnificence, which are Creation, Conservation, the In∣carnation of the word, Justification, and Exaltation of the soul to beatitude. O! how thou shouldest be con∣founded hereupon to see thy heart so narrow, and streightned in the exercise of good works?

Look back again upon thy second modell, and at∣tentively consider, how Jesus the pattern of all chaste amities loved his eternall Father; and on earth render∣ed him that honourable tribute of love, which could not well have been payed to a God so justly loved, but by a loving God, and who did, with so much perfecti∣on love. Jesus alone passed with an incomparable emi∣nency those nine degrees, whereof we spake before, which are as nine spheres of love. This most blessed foul which had an exact knowledge of all the excellen∣cies of increated beauty, loved him according to its sci∣ence, equalling his fervours to its lights. It first of all entred into the solitude of love, which made a little fortunate Island of the heart, wherein there was no∣thing but God, and It: God, who was in it with eter∣nall contentments: It, which was in God, with reci∣procall and wholly ineffable affections. This heart of Jesus resembled the Halcions nest, which cannot hold one silly fly more then the bird it self: So he knew not how to lodge one creature in himself to the prejudice of the Creatour, but could tell how to lodge them altoge∣ther, to u••ite them to their Head. O it was properly his businesse to give us this lesson, which he afterward dictated by one of his Oracles. He loveth thee not enough, whosoever loveth any thing with thee which he loveth not for thee. From solitude he entred into the silence which Synesius calleth Beatifick Silence, and which S. John placeth in heaven in the peacefull con∣dition of the Blessed: It was properly the calm, and repose, which the holy soul of Jesus took with his hea∣venly Father in his divine Orisons which he many times continued the space of whole nights, watching, and weeping for us, and dwelling as it were in the fire of love. It is that silence which the Canticle calleth the Bed of Solomon, encompassed with threescore valiant ones, but of that great Host of Angels. From si∣lence he passed to the suspension whereof Job speak∣eth, where his soul felt it self totally pulled up by the root from earth, but not (as yet) placed in heaven, because he was corporally in this transitory life. We, (verily) find three admirable suspensions in Nature; That, of water in the clouds; of Heaven, above the clouds; and of earth, under the clouds: and two inef∣fable suspensions in the Humanity of Jesus: The first is that of his blessed soul, which was alwaies hanging at the heart of God, and the second of his body on the Crosse, to purifie by his death all the regions of the world, both above, and beneath: above, by the exhala∣tion of his spirit; beneath, by the effusion of his bloud. After suspension, he mounted to insatiability, which caused him, that, drinking those eternall sources by long draughts in the delighrs of Contemplation which streams upon him from heaven, he slaked his thirst in his own bosome, not quite quenching it, therein re∣taining the condition of those who see God: of whom it is said, That they are still replenished,

yet still greedy, incessantly desiring what they possesse.

From insatiability he came to the degree of Indefa∣tigability, which caused him perpetually to spend him∣self in most glorious labours for the redemption of the world, measuring: and running over the earth, as the sun doth Heaven, and fowing virtues, and benefits every where, to reap nought but Ingratitude. From thence he proceeded to that Inseparability which tied him for the love of his heavenly Father, not onely to the pu∣nishment of the Crosse, but to so many scorns and mise∣ries as he embraced for us; and he made so much ac∣count of this mortall flesh which he took of us, that he associated it unto himself with an eternall band, and hath transmitted it into the bosome of Immortality, placing his wounds (which were the characters of his love, and of our inhumanity) even in the sanctuary of the most blessed Trinity. From this Inseparability, he suffered himself to slide into languours, extasies, and transanimations, which make up a Deified love, such as was that of Jesus. Languour dried him up with the zeal he had for our salvation exhausting all the strength of his body, and (to speak with Philo) he seemed as if he would have transformed his flesh into the nature of his spirit, causing it to melt and dissolve under the ar∣dours of ineffable affection, as we see a Myrrhe-Tree which distilleth the first fruits of its liquour under the lustre of the sun-beams. Extasie, which bare this great soul with a vigorous violence to the heart of God, made a truce in all the actions of sensitive nature: and as it happeneth that the Ocean extraordinarily swelling up upon one shore, forsaketh the other: So the spirit of our Saviour already divinized, amassing together the whole multitude of his forces, to serve his love and sa∣tisfie the passion he had towards his celestiall Father, overflowed in the heart of the Divinity, with so im∣measurable a profusion, that all his inferiour Nature seemed to be forsaken, and despoiled of the presence, and government of his soul.

In the end he entred into that transanimation which so powerfully united him to God, that onely retaining the property of two natures, Divine and Humane; he made an incomparable commixtion of heart, of love, of affections, and conformities; which made Origen say, This soul, like unto Iron which is on burning Coles, was alwayes in the word, alwayes in wisdome, ever in God, and took an immutable constancy from the ardour wherewith it is enkindled in the union of God.

If you find this love too sublime for you; behold it as it were tempered, and reflected, in so many saints, as were S. Paul, S. Augustine, S. Bernard and so ma∣ny other.

§. 13. A notable Example of worldly love changed into divine Charity.

I Will give you a very familiar one, in a man of the world, a man of the Court, and one who is at this present a treasure hidden from many, who was hated by the envious, persecuted by the proud, condemned by the Ignorant; and yet a great servant of God. It is the learned, and pious Raymundus Lullus, as it appeareth by his life faithfully written in the Tome of the lives of the Western Fathers. This man flourish∣ed above three hundred years ago, and was born in the Island of Majorica of a notable extraction, which gave him passage into worldly honours, and caused him to be bread in the Court of his King, by whom he afterward was made one of his prime Officers. Never was there a man more inclining to love, for he loved transportedly, and spent all his youth in this vanity, having no employment more acceptable then to write amourous verses, to expresse his passion. In the end he fell into the snare of a violent affection that long turmoiled him, which was the love of an ho∣nourable Lady endowed with an invincible chastity. Here ordinarily, love which delights to pursue what it cannot arrive unto, finds most admiration for the eyes, and food for its flame.

He was so on fire in this quest, that he thought he should lose his wits, suffering himself to fall into un∣beseeming and extraordinary actions, so farre as being one day on horse-back, and seeing this his well-belo∣ved to go into a Church to do her devotions, he spur∣red hard, and in such manner entred into the holy place, not minding Church, Priest, Altars, or Sacraments; He had no eyes but for this creature, before whom he delighted to manage his horse with his usuall grace: But instantly a lowd clamour was raised by the people, who thrust him our of the Church, and handled him like a mad-man.

The Lady was so much displeased, and ashamed at his exorbitant importunities, that she resolved to cure his love by a stratagem, which she could not vanquish by flight. She called this passionate amorist to her (by her husbands permission) and having shewed him the wrong he did to her reputation so to resign himself over to such a grosse indiscretion, as also the disasters he might draw on his own person; she bared her neck, and discovered her bosome all eaten by a ma∣ligne Cancer, which at first caused some aversion in him: but, the more to fortifie the act, the Lady thereun∣to added prevalent words, reproching him with simpli∣city to imploy so many hours to seek after an unhappy lothsomenesse, and take away his love from God, to conferre it on a Creature, who so little deserved it.

Poor Raymond was astonished at this speech, divi∣ding his soul between the horrour of this ulcer, and the admiration of the wisdome of the virtuous woman, when instantly this cancer of the body cured that of the mind. He in a moment found himself to be changed, as if all his passion had expected this period of sinne, and as if on a sudden his soul had been freed from a charm: He could not wonder enough at his frenzy passed. He deplored the losse of so much time, he put forward for the future, to consecrate the remainder of his dayes to penance. It seemed to him he perpetu∣ally heard the voyce of the Crucifix, which said unto him, Raymond follow me: and his heart burnt with a generous flame to augment the number of so many good servants of so worthy a Master. He would not by halves perform so important a businesse: he dispo∣sed of his whole estate for the benefit of the poor, and threw himself all naked between the arms of the Crosse. Behold how it importeth to begin the great work of the love of God by some remarkable Act, and to give ones self freely to him, who hath not for us spared his own sonne! Thence he retired into a little Hermitage, where attending to prayer, fasts, and con∣templations, he was so illuminated, that being before unlearned in any science, but in that of worldly love, he became as knowing as the greatest Doctours; yet still austere as the most rigorous Hermits.

His love towards God began, first by great tender∣nesse, and continuall familiarity adoring this most pure spirit throughout the great Theatre of nature. If he looked on the rising sun; he out of Extasie sung, and said, From the chaste bosome of the morning went forth the desire of eternall mountains, wherein there are no more blemishe•• then there is darknesse in the Sun: If he considered the sea, he took occasion to enter into the secret abysses of the judgements of God, wherein he remained wholly absorpt. If he cast his eye on the fields; so many flowers as he there observed, were as

many little eyes of his well-beloved: If he heard a bird sing; in his conceit it spake to him of the love of his incomparable lover, and he used to say, there was a certain language of love which he understood in all creatures: If he saw a butterfly flying, and a little child running after it; he thereon frames sublime medi∣tations of the Philosophy of love. His solitude seem∣ed to him all environed with Intelligencies, and when any one came to interrupt him and blamed him for being alone; Nothing lesse (answered he:) I was in good company, but found my self alone after your co∣ming.

He was so transported, that he walked throughout the streets chanting the praises of his Jesus, and when some who knew him, while he was in high place, de∣manded of him, whether he had lost his wits? verily you are in the right (replyed he) my well-beloved hath taken away my will, and I have given him my under∣standing; there is nothing left me but memory to re∣member him. He many times caused his eyes and me∣mory to dispute touching the possession of his Divine love, to see who might vaunt the most right; His eyes said, sight surpassed all: but memory answered, remem∣brance was much stronger, because it made water mount into the eyes, and fire into the heart. One while he caused his understanding and will to run after this his dear spouse, and he found the understanding was the more able, but the will better held what it embraced. He was many times seen to be in such a manner, that being ready to sleep, he bitterly with scalding tears wailed that he in sleep had forgotten his Creatour, having then no power over his dreams, nor thoughts. His passion became so violent, when he to himself presented the state of this world, wherein we are separated from the sight of God, that he thereby fell into fainting fits, and was sick of it almost to the death. A Physician, on a time visiting him in these fits, and throughly understan∣ding his grief, held much troublesome and tedious dis∣course with him, after which he said, this man had cu∣red him, for that he had made him suffer throughly, and that taking this punishment patiently for Gods sake he thereby was infinitely comforted. He common∣ly said love was a Tree, the fruit whereof was To love, and that tribulations, and languours were the flowers, and leaves of it: the proof whereof daily appeared in the motions of his soul, wherein he felt most sensible af∣flictions, when he within himself reflected on the con∣tempt was done to his crucified love.

One day he had a revelation, that of a thousand there were not a hundred who had any fear, or but an indif∣fe••ent affection for their Saviour; and that of those hun∣dred, ninety feared him out of their apprehension of the torments of Hell; and that of those ninety, there were not two who loved him for the hope of heaven; and that of a thousand, scareely could one be found who lo∣ved him for his goodness his nobleness, and his worth: whereat he powred forth so many tears, that he was not to be comforted. He was often heard to groan, and sigh in the open fields, as if he had lyen in an irksome prison, and had sought to break his fetters; when, be∣ing in these agitations, he came to a fountain-side, where lay an Hermit asleep, whom he awakned and asked if he could tell how one might get out of prison? The other, who was a man of God, understood him, and replyed, he was in the same prison that he was, as well sleeping, as waking; but it was a prison of love, where his desires, his thoughts, his hopes, his joyes were chains: upon which, he fell into an extasie of holy comfort, to have found a man so conform to his hu∣mour; and both of them wept so much out of love, over this fountain, that they seemed to go about to raise those streams by their tears. If he wrote a letter, he ima∣gined love gave him the pen, and that he dipped it in his tears, and that the paper was all over filled with in∣struments of the passion, and that he sent his thoughts and sighs, as Courtiers, to seek out the well-beloved of his heart. When he saw an Epistle, or a letter wherein the name of Jesus was not premised; it sensibly tormen∣ted him, saying, Sarazins had more devotion for Maho∣met a man of sin, setting his name in the front of all their letters, then Christians had for their Redeemer.

A holy occasion one day drew him to a Church to hear excellent musick: but he perceiving the words were of God, and the tune according to the world; he could not forbear to cry out aloud, Cease, profane men, Cease to cast pearls into mire. Impure airs are not fit for the King of virgins. Some took delight to ask him ma∣ny questions, and he answered them nothing, but the word, love; which he had perpetually in his mouth. To whom belongest thou? To love: whence comest thou? from love: whither goest thou? To love: who begat thee? Love: Of what dost thou live? upon love: where dwellest thou? In love. He accounted them un∣worthy to live, who died of any other death, then of love: and beholding a sick-man in an agony, who shewed no feeling of joy to go unto God, but onely complained of his pain; he lamented him as a man most miserable. At his entrance into a great Citie, he asked who were the friends of God, and a poor man being shewed him, who continually wept for the love of heaven, and heavenly things; he instantly ranne to him, and embracing him, they mingled their tears toge∣ther with unspeakable joy.

God often visited him by many lights, and most sweet consolations, as it happened at that time when he thought he saw a huge cloud between his Beloved and him, which hindred and much troubled him; but pre∣sently it seemed to him, that love put it self between them both, and gilded the cloud with great and admi∣rable splendours, in such sort that through this radiant beauty he saw a ray of the face of his well-beloved, and for a long space spake to him with profusions of heart, and admirations not to be expressed.

From this obsequious love, he passed to obliging love, and made a strong resolution to become profita∣ble to all the world.

For which purpose, feeling every moment to be re∣plenished with sublime and divine thoughts which God had communicated to him, and that he had no insight in Grammer, nor other slight school-notions; he re∣solved to learn the Latine tongue, being now full four∣ty years old. He hit upon a teacher one Master Tho∣mas who taught him words, conjugations, and con∣cords; but he rendred him back again elate concepti∣ons, unheard of discourses, and harmonies wholly ce∣lestiall; so much honouring his Master, that he dedicated the most part of his books to him, wherein for the dead letter, he offered unto him the spirit of life. Not satisfied with this, he added the Arabick tongue, of purpose to convert the Mahumetans: and for this end he bought a slave, for whom having no other employment but to teach him it, and he having therein already well profi∣ted, and endeavouring to convert this wretched servant, who had been his teacher; the other found him so know∣ing and eloquent, that he had an apprehension that through this industry he was able to confound the Ma∣humetan-law, which was the cause that the Traitour, espying his opportunity, took a knife, and sought to kill his Master; but he stopt the blow, and onely received a wound which proved not mortall. All the house ran at the noise, and there was not any one, who would not have knocked down the ungratefull creature: but he hindered it with all his might, and heartily pardoned him in the greatest sharpnesse of his dolours. Instantly

the officers seized on this compassion, and put him into prison, where he was strangled, repenting himself of nothing but that he had not finished his mischief; which caused extreme sorrow in Raymond, who be∣wailed him with many tender tears of compassion.

After this, he undertook divers journies into France, Spain, Italy, Greece, and Africk, wandring continu∣ally over the world, and not ceasing to preach, write, and teach, to advance the salvation of his neighbours. Paris many times received him with all courtesie in such sort, that the Chancellour Bertand, who was infi∣nitely affected to knowledges, permitted him to reade them publickly in his hall.

The reverend Charter-house Monks, whose houses have so often been sanctuaries for Learning and Devo∣tion, were his hoasts, and so much he confided in their integrtty and sincerity, that he with them deposed all which he had most precious. The love of God, which is as lightning in a cloud still striving to break forth, suffered him not to rest, but disposed him to undertake somewhat for the glory of God.

It is true, he had first of all that purpose which afterwards our father S. Ignatius so gloriously ac∣complished: for he was desirous to make Semina∣ries of learned and courageous spirits who should spread themselves throughout the world to preach the Gospel, and to sacrifice themselves for the propagati∣on of Faith.

For this cause, he multiplied his voyages to Rome, to Lions, to Paris, to Avignon, incessantly solliciting Popes and Kings to so excellent a work, without suc∣cesse. He used fervour and zeal therein, but our fa∣ther thereunto contributed more order and prudence: The one undertook it in a crosse time, during the pas∣sage of the holy See from Rome to Avignon, where the Popes more thought upon their own preservation then tha conquests of Christianity: The other knew how to take occasion by the fore-lock, and he inter∣essed Rome, and the Popes thereof, in his design. The one made his first triall under Pope Boniface the Eighth, who having dispossessed a Hermite of S. Pe∣ters Chair, held those for suspected who were of the same profession, fearing they a second time might make a head of the Church. The other happened upon Paul the Third, who was a benign Pope, and he gain∣ed his good opinion by his ready services and submis∣sions, which tended to nothing but the humility of Jesus Christ. The one embroiled himself too much in Sciences, even unto curiosity, and made them walk like Ladies and Mistresses: the other held them as faithfull servants of the Crosse, subjected to holy Humility.

The one stood too much upon his own wit, and needs would beat out wayes not hitherto printed with any foot-steps, nor conferred enough with the Doctours of his times in matters of Opinion and Concord: the other passed through the surges of Universities, and followed an ordinary trackt in the progression of his studies. The one was of a humour very haughty, the other of a spirit facil and sweet. The one took the gol∣den branch with violence, the other gathered it gently, as if the Providence of God had put it into his hands. Now Raymond, not satisfied with seminaries of students, embraced the conquest of the Holy Land, and stirred up many cities of Italy in this matter, exhorting them to make contributions; wherein he was so perswasive, that the city of Pisa alone, which is none of the greatest, furnished him with devotists, who made of one sole free gift twenty five thousand crowns, which he would by no means handle, leaving it to the dispose of the Pope, who would not give ear to the erection of new Colledges; so much were the affairs of the Papacy embroiled. He more easily obtained one thing, which was one of his three wishes, to wit, the suppression of the books of Averroes (an enemy to Christianity) which many with too much curiosity read in the Schools of Philosophy. God many times grants good dispositions to his servants, whereof he will not they have the accomplishment, making them appear more eminent in sufferings then actions. This great man was of the number of those; for he made himself most re∣markable in the love of suffering, wandring over the world in extreme poverty, great incommodities of heat, cold, nakednesse, hunger, scorns, contempts, do∣lours, banishments, dangers, both by sea and land, shipwracks, treasons, chains, prisons, and a thousand images of death.

One day, travelling alone through a huge forrest, he met two lions, which caused some little fear of death in him, as he witnesseth in his writings, desirous to live, that he might yet on earth serve his well-beloved: but in this great surprisall be had a thought, that love would put it self into the midst of this passage, and make him endure death with the more contentment: herewith he comforted himself, and the lions drew near and licked his face bathed in tears of Devotion, and kissed his feet and hands, doing him no harm. Men were more sharp and discourteous to him, who ceased not to drag him before Tribunals, to charge him with calumnies for his extraordinary wayes, to give sentence against him; but in all he appealed to his well-beloved who never forsook him.

Seeing himself destitute of all succour for the con∣version of Sarazens, he passed alone into the kingdome of Thunes, where he freely disputed with the chief of the Mahometans, concerning the greatnesse and excel∣lency of our Faith, against the impostures of Mahomet; which was the cause that he was immediately cast into prison, and condemned by the King himself to have his head cut off: to which he disposed himself with an in∣comparable fervour of love. At which time, one of the prime men of State in the countrey, who had con∣ceived well of him, out of the admiration of his wit, perswaded the King to be satisfied with banishing him out of his kingdome, and that by this way, he should do all he was obliged unto for the preservation of his own law, and should get the reputation of a mild Prince among Christians, abstaining from the bloud of such a man; which he did: but he was thrust out of Thunes with so many blows and ignominies, that he therein gained a noble participation in the Crosse of Jesus Christ. The fervour which incessantly boiled in his veins suffered him not to be long at rest. He went into the kingdome of Bugia, as Jonas into Nineveh, crying out aloud through the streets, that there was in the world but one Religion, and that was ours; and that the law of Mahomet was a meer imposture and a fantasie. He was instantly laid hands on, as a mad-man, and lead to the high Priest named Alguassin, who asked him, whether he knew not the Laws of the countrey, which forbad him upon pain of death to speak against Mahometisme. To which he answered, he could not be ignorant of it, but that a man who knew the truth of Christian Religion, as he did, could do no other but seal it with his blood. This Alguassin proud of science, perceiving him to be a man of a good wit, entred farther into discourse with him, where he found himself shamefully gravelled; which made him forsake the Syllogismes of the School, to have recourse to the arguments of tyrants, which are arms and vio∣lence: for he caused him to be presently taken as an Emissary Goat, there being not any Mahometan hand so little which delighted not to hale and leade him with blows, untill they brought him into the most

hideous prison, which was rather a retreat then a gaol, where he endured a thousand miseries with an unshaken constancy. The Genowayes, his good friends, who traffick in these parts, moved with his affliction, got with good round summes of money, a more reasonable prison for him, where he began again to dispute with the most learned of the sect, and made himself to be so much admired by those his adversaries, that they en∣deavoured to gain him to their Religion, promising him wife, family, honours, and riches, as much as he could wish: but he mocked at all their machinations, and seeing them fervent to dispute, he persisted therein with great strength of reason and courage. They said, words were lost in the air, but they must take the pen in hand and write on both sides, with which he was in∣finitely pleased; and spent nights and dayes in prison to compose a great volumn for defence of our Religion. But the King of Bugea coming into his capitall city, dissipated all these counsels, much fearing the touch of his Law, which was gold of a base allay, and caused him the second time to come out of prison. From thence he sought to get something in Greece, passing over into Cyprus, where he disputed against the Nesto∣rians and Jacobites, who rendred him poison for the honey of his discourses, whereof he was like to die, had he not been preserved by divine Providence, and the assistance of a good Angel. The blessed man had al∣ready passed forty years in a thousand toils and crosses, and spared not to suffer, by reason of the flames of love which burnt his heart; but he knew not whether he suffered or no, so much he took to heart the cup which God had mingled for him. Verily, our Lord appearing one day unto him, and asking him if he well knew what love was, of which he so many years had made profession? he very excellently answered, If I do not well know what Love is, I at least well under∣stand what Patience is: meaning, that it was to suffer, since nothing troubled him for the satisfaction he had in Gods causes. And another time being asked whe∣ther he had Patience? he said, All pleased him, and that he had no cause of impatience, which onely be∣longs to them who keep the possession of their own will. Lastly, being about fourscore years of age, he considered within himself what he said afterwards, that love was a sea full tempests and storms, where a port was not to be hoped for, but with the losse of himself, and that its depth was his exaltation. He went back again into the kingdome of Sarazens in Africk, where being known, he was suddenly stoned to death in a popular commotion, and buried under a great heap of stones, in which place his body long remained un∣known to all the world: but it pleased God, that cer∣tain merchants, his countrey-men, sailing into that countrey, saw in the night a Pyramis of fire to rise up over his tomb, which caused a curiosity in them to see what it was, and coming to dig into it, they found this venerable old man who was so gloriously buried in his own triumph; they brought him back into his own countrey, where he is all this time reverenced out of an antient Devotion of the people, which the holy See permitteth rather by way of toleration, then expresse Canonization.

Notes

• All Happi∣nesse inclu∣ded in love.
• S. Dion. l. de Hierarch. coelest. 〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉. God the Father of unions draweth all to unity by the means of love.
• The Sect of Philoso∣phers of In∣differency.
• 1. Reason a∣gainst the Indiffe∣rents.
• There is none, but God, which is for it self.
• Monas ge∣••uit mona∣dem, & in se suum refle∣xit amorem, S. Thom. 1. part. q 32. a. t. 1.
• Ecce ego ad te, draco magne qui tuba i•• me∣dio flumi∣num tuo∣rum, &c. Ezec. 29. 3.
• S. Tho opus. de Beatit. Quasi homo s••t. Dei De∣u••.
• 2. Reason drawn from the commu∣nication of creatures.
• Unaquae{que} res cogitur dare ••eip â, adeo exclu∣sit Deus ava∣ritiam à re∣bus huma∣nis. Guil. Paris. l. de univers.
• 3. Reason of the tender∣nesse of great hearts
• A notable sentence of the Areo∣pagites.
• Wherefore great hearts are the most lo∣ving.
• Love, the soul of the universe.
• Fornacem custodiens in operibus ardoris. Eccl. 43.
• Love, the superinten∣dent of the great For∣nace of the world. Faber fer∣rarius se∣dens juxta in eodem & considerans opus ferri: vapor iguis uret carnes ejus, & in calore for∣nacis con∣certatur, &c. Eccl. 29 38.
• Act. 9.
• Pigri, mor∣tui oete∣standi eritis si nihil ame∣tis: Amare, sed quid a∣meris vide∣te. August. in Psal. 31. Hoc amet, nec ametur ab ullo. Juvenal. Seven ex∣cellent things.
• Vide Mar∣silium Fici∣num in con∣vivium Platonis. An ex••el∣lent con∣ceit of the Platonists.
• The nat••••e of love Lib. 1▪ de civit. ••8. Amor inhi∣ans labere qu•••• ama∣tu•• cupidi∣t•• est, idem ••mor ha∣bens cóque fruen••, leti∣tia est, fugi∣ens quod adversatur el timor est: quod si ac∣ciderit ei∣tristitia est: proinde ma∣la sunt ista si malus est amor; bona si bonus.
• 5. Definiti∣on of love.
• Richard de Medvill. dist. 27. l. 3. Art. 1. q. 1.
• Its division.
• Gabriel. d. 27. q. 1. l. 3.
• The steps and pro∣gressions of ••ove.
• 〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉.
• Its causes.
• Means to make ones self to be beloved worthily.
• Notable ef∣fects of love in the 3. worlds.
• Eccl. 6. Me∣dicamen∣tùm vitae. Amity the tree of life.
• It Inclu∣deth all blessings.
• What ami∣ty is. Affectus est spontanea & suavis animi ad aliquem in∣flectio. Cassiod. de amicit.
• Miserable lovers.
• Three sorts of amity.
• Animal-a∣mity.
• Pro mugno laudarurus sum in ho∣mine, quod videam in Tigride. August. 410. homil. 38.
• 〈…〉〈…〉 the 〈◊〉〈◊〉 of nature.
• Humane A∣mities, and their foun∣dation.
• Interest the fift Gospel of many.
• Avaru•• E∣vangelio∣rum irrisor, transgres∣sórque per∣petuu••. Climach. Grad. 16.
• Tertull. in lib. ad Na∣tiaver. D••i vero qui magis tribu∣ta••••, magis sancti maje∣stas consti∣tuitur in quaestum, venditis to∣tam divini∣tatem, non licet eam gratis coli. Amities of pleasure. Merry jests.
• Amities grounded upon Hone∣sty.
• Amity of Demi-gods.
• Vide ut in∣vicem se diligant & pro alteru∣tro mori¦sint parati. Tertull. A∣polog.
• Qualities of a good friend. Great men are no•• or∣dinarily the best friends.
• Arist. 8. & 9. Moral.
• Tertull. contra Mar∣cionem. Nihil tam Deo di∣gnum, quam salus homi∣nis.
• Who loves too much, loveth lit∣tle.
• Men too endearing incapable of amity.
• The Judge∣ment of Plato. Seneca lib. 6. de Bene∣fic. c. 18. Negavit illi jam apud Platonem positum, of∣ficium. One must not adhere too much to ones self to be a good friend.
• Unequall spirits.
• Men ba∣nished from the Temple of amity.
• The choice of a friend.
• Reasons for which wo∣men seem lesse capa∣ble of Amity.
• Velocitas cogitatio∣num, animi celeritas, & ingeni•• va∣rictas mul∣tiformes illis nota•• impri∣m••t. Plin. l. 7 cap. 12.
• Reasons for the modest love of wo∣men. Amor magis lentitur cum prodit eum indigentia August. l. 10. de Trin. c. 12 S. Thom. 1. 2 q 25.
• Bodin. The∣atri natur. l. 3. sect. 6.
• Luc. Toxa∣tis.
• Rare ami∣tie•• of wo∣men. Valer. Max. l. 4 c. 6.
• Idem lib. 6. cap. 7.
• Lipsii exem. politica.
• Rhod. San∣tius histor. Hispan. p. 1. cap. 4. Scard. lib. 3. hist. Para∣vinae.
• Cedren. in Epirom. hist p. 596.
• Excellent loyalty of a Lady.
• 〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉.
• Rodomanto of Pelagius, Jerem, in Pelagium.
• S. Basil de Virginita••e. Inclination of sex to sex.
• 〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉. Dangerous autractives in the con∣versation with wo∣men.
• Aedificavit dominus costam quàm tule∣rat de Adam in mulierem Gen. 2. 22. 〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉. S. Basil. ibid. 〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉. Clem. Alex. paedag. l. 3.
• Prov. 23. Oculi tui videbunt extraneas, & cor tuum loquetur perversa, &c.
• Modest a∣mities with women should al∣wayes be handled with much precaution.
• Magnus a∣mor est, qui de miseri∣cordia venit 8. Cant. 6.
• Cassiod. de amicitia.
• Degenera∣tion-amity.
• Observation of Iambli∣chus appli∣ed to the a∣mities of women.
• S. Bon. l. de Purit. Conf.
• S. Basil de Virginitate.
• A notable comparison of S. Basil. Subtilties of the passion of love.
• 〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉.
• Aelian. de animal. l. 6. cap. 35. Love com∣pared to the fire of Oxen.
• The opini∣on of Fa∣thers con∣cerning the Amity of women.
• Prov. 6. 27.
• Bern. ser. 64 in Cant.
• Cyp. de sin∣gular. Cler. S. H••ron. ad Nepotian.
• Shipwracks happened by ••he love of women.
• Ex monoeis.
• In coelo non Angelus & Angela. Tertul. ad∣versus Val.
• That there may be spi∣rituall Ami∣ties be∣tween per∣sons of dif∣ferent Sex∣es, endowed with great virtue and rare pru∣dence. Nec infero∣rum reguum in terra. Sap. 1.
• The Basilisk cannot be enchanted.
• Tertul. A∣pologeticu••
• The extra∣ordinary practice of S. Athanasi∣us.
• Soz. l. 5. c 6. Palladius.
• Lusiaca. Amity of S. John Chry∣sostome, with a Lady named Olympias.
• S. Paul tender in holy affe∣ctions.
• Great affe∣ction of S. Hierom to∣ward San∣cta Paula. S. Hierome. in Epitaph. Paulae.
• The affecti∣onare ••etter of my Lord Bishop of Geneva.
• Necessitudo Christi glu∣tine copula∣ta quam non utilitas ••ei familia∣tis, non sub∣dola & pal∣pans adula∣tio, sed Dei timor & di∣vinarum scriptura∣rum studia conciliant. S. Hierom.
• Mollis est animus dili∣gentis & ad omnem sen∣sum doloris argutus; si negligenti∣u•• tractes cito marcet ut ••osa, si durius tene∣as. livet ut lilia. S••nthacus: ep. 34.
• The eight stains of Ami••y. 1. Forget. fulnesse of friends.
• Qualem eu∣pisut mitta∣mus imagi∣nem ••ibi, ••errent ho∣minis an coelestis▪ S. Paulinus ep 8. ad Se∣verum.
• 2. Negli∣gence.
• 3. Con∣tempt.
• Attalus. Ju∣cundius a∣micum fa∣cere, quàm habere. Nec tamen Aeneam quamvis-male cogi tet odi.
• 4. Dissenti∣on
• Chamele∣ontis besti∣olae vice quae de sub∣jectis sumit colorem. Aulon. ep. 32. Ezec. 3. 13.
• 5. Suspitions and distrust.
• Rabbi Solo∣mon.
• Post amici∣tiam, cre∣dendum; an∣te amiciti∣am. judi∣e andum est. ••en. ep. 38.
• Quintus Curtius l. 3.
• 6, 7, Ine∣quality and Impatience
• Greg. Nys. in Hexam.
• 1 Reg. 18. 10.
• 8. Infidelity Petrus Ble∣senfis l. de amie. c. 6. Plutarch. in Julio. 〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉
• Sient nova∣tulla acut•• fecisti do∣lum: pro∣pterea, De∣us destruct¦te.
• Psal. 51. 4. Six perfe∣ctions, which pre∣serve Amity
• Cor impu∣rum quasi mare ser∣vens. Isa. 57.
• Dum unus∣quisque se sub umbra alterius ob∣scurare vo∣lebat, tan quam res percussa claritas u∣trumque ra∣diabat. S. Hilar. In Honorat.
• Humour.
• Melior est manifesta correptio, quam amor absconditus Prov. 27.
• Vid. Chrys. ep. p. 715, 716. 1 Thes. 2. & 3.
• Tertul. de velandis. c. 12. Quis aude∣bit oculis suis preme∣re faciem clausam, fa∣ciem non sentientē, faciem ut ita dixerim tristem.
• Contente sunt dimidi∣atâ fruiluce quàm totam faciem pro∣stituere. Idem de ve∣landis. Virg. cap. 14.
• Conversati∣on, and its content∣ments.
• Prov. 27. 17. Ferrum fer∣ro acui••ur, & homo exacuit fa∣ciem amici sui, & v. 19. Quomodo in a quis re∣spondent vultus pro∣spicienti∣um, sic corda ho∣minum ma∣nifesta sunt prudenti∣bus.
• Conversati∣on must be moderated. Praenuntia est tribula∣tionis laeti∣tia satieta∣tis. Gregor. in Job c 3. Absence is sometimes a stratagem of Amity.
• Bounty a true note of Amity.
• Benefits of Amity.
• Glorifica∣bit me be∣stia agri, dracones, & struthione••. Isa. 34.
• A great in∣dustry to give well.
• Leander in Umbria.
• Senec. l. 2. de Benefic. c. 20.
• Patience most neces∣sary in Ami∣ties. Advice and correction of friends. Non asperè, quantum e∣xistimo, non durites, non modo impe∣rioso vitia tolluntur; sed magis docendo, quam ju∣bendo, ma∣gis moven∣do quàm minando. S. Aug. in ep. ad Aurel. Non caret scrupulo so∣cictatis oc∣cultae, qui manifesto facinori de∣sinit obvia∣re. S. Athanas. in Conc. Alexand.
• Fidelity and its ex∣cellency.
• Ante Jovem generata. Qua sine non tellus pacem, non aequora ••ô runt. Silius.
• 〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉. Hippocra∣tes in ep. ad Abderites.
• Love is a strange ma∣lady.
• Disasters of evil love.
• Vereenndiā periclitari malo, quàm probationē. l. 1. de ani∣ma, c. 17.
• Tertull. in exhortatio∣ne ad casti∣tatem. Nec per ali∣ud fit mari∣ta, nisi per quod & a∣dultera.
• Plato in convivio.
• Division of Lone.
• Love of hu∣mour.
• Casus in culpam transit. Vel∣leius Pater culus.
• Plin. l. 18. c. 16.
• Filiam vali∣dam & be∣ne curatam.
• Haec sunt veneficia mea Quiri∣tes.
• Interiour causes of love.
• Tertull. de Velandis. Continen∣tia majoris ardoris la∣boratior.
• Rebellion of the flesh, S. Climach. de castita te, grad. 15. in fine. Quomodo illum vin∣ciam, quam ut amem a natura suscepimus. Est coope∣rator, & hostis, adju∣tator atque adversarias, auxiliator simul & in∣fidiator, &c.
• Beauty im∣perious. Nomen. 〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉 Psal. 49. Alii reddunt fetam, alii pulch••it u∣dinem ut sept naginta Interpre∣tes. 〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉.
• Climach. de castrea∣te.
• The love of women dangerous.
• Monsiur de la Chambre.
• S. Thom. l. 4. contra gentes. c 11. The secret attractives of love.
• Marsilius Ficinus l. 1. de vita c. 2.
• Surius.
• Modificati∣on of the opinion who place love onely in transpira∣tion. Species for∣ma semel per o••ulos illiga••a, vix magni lu∣ctaminis manu solvi∣ter. Hieron. in Threnos cap. 3.
• A Guard o∣ver the sen∣ses.
• The misera∣ble state of one passio∣nately in love. Insomnia, aetumnae, terror, fuga stultitià que adeò, & te∣mer••tas, in cogitantia excors, & immode∣stia, &c. Plautus in Mo••cat.
• Prosperum ac foelix seclus vi••∣tus vocatur. Senec. Diversities of Love.
• Moechia af∣finis Idolo∣latriae. Tertul. de pudicitia.
• Evil Angels intermed∣dle in the great tem¦pests of love.
• Cruelty of love on the persons of lovers.
• Distrust of∣ones self, recourse to God.
• Love is sometimes the punish∣ment of pride. Climachus de castitate.
• Et ne ma∣gnitudo re∣velationis extollat me, datus est mihi sti∣mulus ear∣nis meae Ange••us Satanae qui me colaphi∣zet. Cor. 2. 12.
• Knowledge of ones self.
• Disposition of ages.
• Fly second occasions.
• Time vide∣re, unde possis cade∣re, noli sitri perversâ simplicitate securus. Aug. in Psa. 50. The attra∣ctives of the world were never so ur∣gent. Tertul. in exhortatio∣ne ad casti∣tatem Ma∣jus est vi∣vere cum castitato quàm pro ea••mpri. Compla∣cence stron∣ger then fire and sword.
• Joannes Dux Bur∣gundiae in Simbolis Imperato∣rum. Great cun∣ning of men who go about to surprise chastitie.
• Advice to Ladies and Gentle∣women.
• 1 Tim. 8. Quod decet mulieres promitten∣tes pietatem
• Tom. 10. ser. 147. de Tempore:
• Lamiae nu∣daverunt mammam, lactaverunt catulo•• suos.
• A small ex∣pression, and an odd one Hos. 2.
• Auferai adulteria de medio ube∣rum snorum.
• Damnatae & mortuae mu∣lieris impe∣dimenta quasi ad pompam funeris con∣stituta. Tert. de hab. mu∣lieris.
• Advices & remedies against this Passion in its full.
• The medal of love hath two faces.
• An excel∣lent concei•• of Solomo•• concerni•••• Love.
• Prov. 7. 1. Intex••i funibus le∣ctulum me∣um. 2. Aspersi c••bile me∣um myrrhâ & alo••. 3. Victimas pro salute devovi. 4. Bosductus advictimam, agnus lasci∣viens, avis ad laqueum. 5. Viae inferni domus ejus.
• Plutarch. in Sympos.
• Plautus in Cystellaria.
• Jud. 16.
• 2 Sam. 13.
• Judg. 20.
• Disasters of love in eve∣ry age and condition.
• Advice to all sorts of persons.
• Greg. Naz. homil. de Fornic.
• Remedies for affecti∣ons which come a∣gainst our will.
• Diversity of the mala∣dies of love, and their cures.
• Cas. Col. 2. de discret. Intellige te, vel ignota∣rum hacte∣nus a dia bolo vel despectum.
• Solid reme∣dies.
• Admirable examples of the com∣bats of Saints a∣gainst Love.
• Ubi furoris insederit vi∣rus, libid••ni•• quoque in∣cendium n••∣cesse est pe∣ne••. Cas∣de spiritu fornic. c. 23.
• Raderus
• Speculum Anonymi.
• Separation, the first re∣medy,
• The counsel and assidui∣ty of a good directour, is an excel∣lent anti∣dote.
• Myrmecidia opera apud Aelianum.
• That there may be a celestiall amity by the com∣merce of man with God.
• An exel∣lent conceit of Plato. Plato in Sympos. & Marlil. Fi∣cinus. Amor me∣moria pri∣mi, ac sum∣mi, & puris∣suni pulchri. Appetitor artis, deser∣tor artificis amplectitur speciem, eu∣jus non mi∣ratur au∣thorem. S. Eucherius ep. Paraen••t,
• Aug. l. 2. conf. c 6. An excel∣lent reason of S. Augu∣stine, to shew the in∣clination we have to love God.
• Tantus est ille, ut, qui non amant eum, injust•• quidem, non nisi quod∣dam ejus a∣mare pos∣sint. S. Eucheri∣us. Objection, about the invisib••lity of God. Mercur. Trism. 〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉. That God renders himself in∣finitely ami∣able in to∣tall nature. Synesius Hymn. 4. Naturam u∣niversam lyram ae••er∣ni Patris vocat di∣versis fidi∣bus inten∣tam. 〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉. Ubi alludit ad chordas cytharae hy∣patem me∣sen neten. The sun the image of God. 〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉. Orpheo. Boni con∣spicuus fili∣us, conspi∣cuum in templo mundi Dei simula chrum•• Pla∣tonicis, Pro∣clus thro∣num justitiae in medio so∣le collocat.
• 〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉. S. Dyonisius c. 1. Hierar. coelestis.
• 〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉. Synesi••o. Quod coli∣mus nos De∣us unus est, qui totam molem istā cum instru∣mento ele∣mentorum, corporum, spirituum expressit in ornamen∣tum maje∣statis suae, Tertul. A∣pol. c. 17.
• The com∣merce of man with God. S. Maximus Cent. 5 ex vatiis. Deum extra se effici cre∣aturis omni∣bus provi∣dendo Melinra sunt ubera tua vino. Can 1. Quia vinum exprimitur cum la bore in torculari ubèra spon∣te fluunt.
• Glossa in Danielem.
• The conver∣sation of God with man by the mystery of the incar∣nation in the con¦summation of love. Leo serm. 3. de Passione Venit in hunc mun∣dum dives, atque mise∣ricors nego¦tiator coeli. & commu∣tatione mi∣rabili inivit commerci∣um salutare nostra acci∣piens, sua tribuens.
• The Eucha∣rict the last degree of love.
• Anacre on. 〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉. Ita appli∣cat Johan∣nes Eusebi∣us l. 4. arte voluntatis.
• Love of Saints to∣wards Je∣sus.
• Blanquerna in l. de a∣mico & a∣mato.
• Concilium Arausica∣num. Donum D•• est dili∣••••re Denm, ipse ut dili∣geretur de∣dedit, qui non diligen∣tes diligit, displicen∣tes, amati sumus; ut es∣set in nobis unde place∣remus. The growth of love like unto pearls.
• Donec Christus formetur in vobis. Gal 4. 10.
• The Empire and emi∣nencies of Divine love.
• Instructi in charitate in omnes divi∣tias plenitu∣dinis intel∣lectûs. Col. 2. 2. Ailredus tom. 13. Bibliorum in speculo charitatis. Excellent conceit of charity.
• S. Zeno ser. de fide, spe, & charit. Tu Deum in hominem demutatum voluisti, tu Deum ab∣breviatum paulisper à majestatis suae immen∣sitate pere∣grinari feci∣sti, tu virgi∣nali carcere nove n••men∣sibus religa∣sti, tu mor∣tem, Deum mori docen∣do, evacu∣sti.
• Qualities of divine love by which we may know whe∣ther it in∣habit a soul.
• Three prin∣cipall marks of love.
• Plyantness.
• Orig. Hom. de Magdal.
• Liberality.
• Cant. 5. 14 Manus ejus tornatiles, aureae, ple∣nae Hyacin∣this, (alia versio) Globi aurei pleni mari.
• Patience. Pennas ha∣bet, non pondus. Ailredus
• Twelve ef∣fects of love
• Three or∣ders of true lovers of the World.
• Nine de∣grees of Se∣raphicall love for the contempla∣tive.
• 〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉. &c. Pindarus.
• The means to acquire the love of God.
• Quot vitia habemus, tot recen∣tes habe∣mus Deos, Hieron.
• The practise of the love of God.
• How we may earn to love God, above the love of the world. Jnhonestos amatores ostendite, si quis amore foeminae la∣sciviens ve∣stit se aliter quàm ama∣tae, placet. Aug. ler. 19. de verbis. Apost.
• That we learn to love God himself, and by the cha∣racter of his substance which is Jesus. In medio animalium splendor ignis, & de igne fulgur egrediens. Ezekiel 1.
• S. Thom. opusc. 61. De Dilecti∣one, omne receptum est in reci∣piente per modum re∣cipientis.
• Charitas Dei d••ffusa est in cor∣dibus no∣stris per spi∣ritum san∣••tum. Rom. 5. 8.
• Monas ge∣nuis mona∣dem, & in se suum re∣flexit amo∣rem. it a ex∣plicat. S. Thom 1. part. 9. 23. Fornacem custodiens in operibus ardoris. Eccl. 43. 3.
• Levit 10.
• Crysol. serm. 26. sums de sacrificio p••nam, quia feci•••• de propitis∣tione pec∣catum.
• The love of Jesus to∣wards his heavenly Father.
• August. ••o∣lil. Minàs t•• amat qui t••cum ali∣quid amat quod pro∣pter te non amat. Apoc. 8.
• Cantic. 3.
• Job. 7. 15. Elegit su∣spendium anima 〈◊〉〈◊〉.
• Da••i••••. Cardi. •••• Hymno d•• Paradiso. Avidi, & semper pl••∣ni, quod ha∣bent, de ••••••••∣rant.
• Mark 3. 21.
• Orig. 2. 〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉 Anima ilia quasi scr∣••um in igne, semper in verbo, sem∣per in sapi∣entia, sem∣per in Deo, in converti∣bilitatem ex verbi Dei unitate in∣desinenter ignita possi∣debat.
• Vitae Pa∣trum Oc∣cid. l. ••. Ex Carolo Bo∣villo.
• All this is observed in Bla••u••r∣nas book.