Of peace and contentment of minde. By Peter Du Moulin the sonne. D.D.

OF THE PEACE OF THE SOVL AND CONTENTMENT OF MINDE.

SECOND BOOK. Of Mans Peace with himselfe, by Rectifying his Opinions.

CHAPTER I. The Designe of this Book, and the next.

THe sence of our peace with God may be distinguished from the peace with our selves, but not separated; for the peace with God being well appre∣hended setleth peace in the heart betweene a man and his own conscience, which otherwise is his inseparable accuser and implacable adver∣sary.

We have spoken in the first Book of the ground and principal cause of our inward peace which is also the end and perfection of the same, and that is our Union with God. We have treated also of the meanes altogether divine and effective of

that end, which are the love of God and our neighbour, faith, hope, and a good conscience active in good workes. We intend now, with Gods helpe, to speake of those subordinate cau∣ses and meanes, where Prudence is a servant of Piety, to keep peace and good order within. In this great work the handmaide shall often need her Mistrisses help; for reason not sanctified by piety is as dangerous to use, as Antimony and Mercury not prepared.

The two great workes of sanctified reason to keep inward peace and content, are these; Not to be beaten down with adversity or corrupted with prosperity, going through both fortuns with vertuous cleare and equal temper, making pro∣fit of all things, and fetching good out of evill.

To frame that golden temper in our minde, we must lay downe before all things for a funda∣mental Maxime, That all the good and evill of mans life, though it may have its occasions with∣out, hath truly and really its causes within us; excepting onely some few casualties where pru∣dence hath no place; and yet there is no evill but may be either prevented, or lessened, or turned into good by a vertuous disposition.

Hence it followes that not without but with∣in us our principal labour must be bestowed, to take an order for our peace and content. To keep us from falls in a long journey, if wee would send before to remove all the stones out

of the way, we should never have done; but the right course is to get an able and surefooted horse and to sit fast on him. It would be a more impossi∣ble undertakeing in the wayfairing condition of this life to remove all temptations and oppositi∣ons out of our way; but against these two sorts of obstacles, we must provide a firme spirit, able to go through all, and stumbling at nothing; but keeping every where a sure and eeven pace.

To that end let us acknowledge within us two generall causes of all our content and discon∣tent, and all our order and disorder: The first cause is the Opinion that we conceive of things; The second is, the Passion moved or occasioned by that opinion. Take a good order with these two causes, you shall be every where content, tranquil, wise, and moderate. But from the disorder of these two causes, proceeds all the trouble of the inward polity of our minds, and all the misrule and misery that is in the world.

It must bee then our labour to order a∣right these two Principles of our good and evill within us, and in the order here set down, which is essential to the matter; Imploying this second Book to get right Opinions of the things of this world, from which men usually expect good or evill. And this will prepare us matter for the third Book, whose task will be to set a rule to passions. For that which sets them upon disor∣derly motions is the wrong opinion wherewith

the mind is possest about the objects. And who∣soever can instruct his mind with right opinions, may after that, rule his passion with little labour.

CHAP. II. Of the right Opinion.

I Said that things exteriour are the occasions of the good and evill of man, but the causes of the same are the interiour, Opinion and Passion. Now to treat of the causes we must also treat of the occasions, as subjects of the opinion, and ob∣jects of the passion; Not to examine them all, for they are as many as things in the world and accidents in mans life; there is none of them alto∣gether indifferent to us, but are considered either as good or evill. We will stay onely upon the chiefe heads, and endeavour to finde the true price of things that men commonly desire, and the true harme of those things which they feare.

In this search, I desire not to be accounted par∣tial, if I labour to give a pleasant face to the sad∣dest things. It is my profest intention. For my work being to seek in all things occasion of peace and content, why shall I not, if I can, borrow it even from adversity? And is it any whit ma∣terial whether I find it indeed or devise it, so I can make it serve my turne! Is it not prudence for one to be ingenious to content himselfe, yea though he cosen himselfe to his owne content?

My readers may beare with me if I use them as I use my selfe, who, next to the care of pleasing God, make it my chiefe study to content my mind, and in all the several byasses that God puts upon the rouling course of my life, strive to behold all accidents by the faire side; or to give them one in my mind, if they have none. Where∣in I hope to justifye the ingenuity of my dealing, to ingenious mind, and shew that I give no false colours to evill things to make them looke good. For since the good and evill of most things con∣sisteth in opinion, and that things prove good or evill as they are taken and used, if I find good in those things which others call evill, they become good in my respect. It is the great worke of wise men to turne all things to their advantage, subject∣ing exteriour things to their mind, not their mind to them, et sibi res non se rebus submittere.

This truth then ought to be deeply printed in minds, studious of wisdome and their own con∣tent, That they beare their happinesse or unhap∣pinesse within their breast; and, That all outward things have a right and a wrong handle; He that takes them by the right handle, finds them good; He that takes them by the wrong indiscreetly, finds them evill. Take a knife by the haft it will serve you, take it by the edge it will cut you.

Observe that all sublunary things are of a com∣pounded nature; Nothing is simple, nothing but may do good, nothing but may do harme. And

so in moral goodnesse or badnesse. There is no good thing but is mingled with evill: There is no evill, but some good enters into the composi∣tion. The same truth holds in all persons, acti∣ons, and events. Out of the worst, a well com∣posed mind endowed with the grace of God, may extract good with no other chymistry then piety wisdom and serenity.

It lyeth in us, as we incline our minds, to be pleased or displeased with most things of the world. This may be exemplifyed in things ma∣terial and of lesse importance, which may be presidents for things spiritual and of greater mo∣ment. One that hath fed his eyes with the rich prospect of delicate Countryes as Lombardy and Anjou, where all the beauties and dainties of Nature are assembled, will another time take no lesse delight in a wild and rugged prospect of high bare mountaines, and fifty stories of steep rockes, as about the grand Chartreuse, and the bottome Ardennes, where the very horror con∣tributes to the delectation. If I have bin deligh∣ted to see the trees of my Orchard, in spring blos∣somed, in summer shady, in autumne hung with fruite; I will delight againe, after the fall of the leafe, to see through my trees new prospects which the bushy boughes hid before; and will be pleased with the sight of the snow candied about the branches, as the flowers of the season. This is better then to consider in deserts nothing

but their hideousnesse and barrennesse, and in winter nothing but the rheumatique weather.

If a facile and well composed mind take de∣light in these varieties of nature, why not in the varietyes of his condition? When he is rich, he will delight in the service of his men; When he falls to poverty, he will delight to help himselfe, finding that he is the sooner obeyed and more to his minde. If he hath children, he will delight to provide for them; If God take them from him, he will rejoyce that they are provided for. If he obtaine a beloved woman, he finds his content increased; If he miss her, he finds his care di∣minisht. If he be neere his friends, he injoyes gladly their love and presence; If he be farre from them, he seeth no more their distresses. One time he loves health, because it makes life sweeter; Another time he will love sicknesse, be∣cause it will bring a happy death. That mans patience was ingenuous, who having put out his eye falling upon his own staffe, gave God thanks that his staffe was not forked, so he might have put out both his eyes with that fall.

There is nothing where a well instructed minde may not find matter of some content and comfort. A truth presupposed by St. Paul when he teacheth to rejoyce evermore, 1 Thess. 5.16. yea and glory in tribulations. Rom. 5.3. For when God multiplyeth his tryalls to his children he makes his comforts to abound much more. Of

which they deprive themselves who in their for∣tunes look onely upon the sad side, and are in∣genious to vexe themselves. The occurrences of this life having many faces, a wise man will alwayes entertaine the best. And in my opinion it should not be a hard matter to obtaine of our∣selves, to give alwayes sentence in our own fa∣vour.

Yet this must be used with some distinction. For in those evils which consist in our own fault, we must alwayes consider the evill as great as it is, and give sentence against our selves; for the way to be absolved of God is, to condemne our∣selves before him. In that case he that is against himselfe doth much for himselfe. But as for the evills that come to us by accident or by the fault of another, wee must alwayes lessen the evill and be partial for our selves through humility, meekenesse, patience, yea and forgetfullnesse; for so shall we give judgement in our favour, the milde part being that which must worke our con∣tent. Whereas he that aggravates evils with his imagination, and makes his spite, and appe∣tite of revenge to be as hammers to knock in deeper the arrowes that are shot against him, gives sentence against himselfe, and takes part with his enemies to work his own discontent.

These considerations must be further insisted upon in their proper place. I use them here on∣ly as instances of the benefit of opinion when it is

well taught, and the harme of the same when it followes a wrong information.

To get a right Opinion, the contemplation by which Epictetus beginnes and grounds his Book, of most rare excellency, must be maturely and diligently studied. For if we bestow but a little Christian dresse upon it, it will be a perpetual & infallible rule for the right valuing of all things, and so will prove a singular help for the cleare∣nesse and tranquillity of minde. Here it is.

In the universality of things some are in our power, some are not: Such as are in our power are Opinion, appetite, desire, aversion, and all our inward and outward actions [By our power I meane not our meere naturall power, which is weak and prone to evill, but the regenerate pow∣er strengthened with Gods grace, which assisting our natural freedom gives it both to will and to do according to his good pleasure. Phil. 2.13. Where∣fore the Christian hath more power over his opi∣nions, passions, and motions then Epictetus, who had but the natural power.] The things that are not in our power, are money, glory, empires, and generally all things that are none of our workes.

Those things that are in our power are free by their nature, and cannot be hindred by any but our selves, or at least without our consent: For although the world and the Devill seduce our opinions and tempt our affections, they cannot

get any victory over us, unlesse we lend our hand to it. But as for the things that are out of our power, they are weake, subject to servitude, exposed to opposition and hinderances, and de∣pend of the power of another.

We must then hold this for certain, that if we take things subject to servitude, to be free; and things that depend of another, to be ours; we cannot but meet often with oppositions and ob∣structions in our designes. We shall lament and torment our selves, we shall accuse men, and murmure against God. But if we account that onely to be ours which is ours indeed as depend∣ing of us, and look upon all that depends not of us as being nothing to us, we can lose nothing, we shall not afflict our selves for any thing in the world, the spoyling of worldly goods that are about us shall not wrong or deject us, for that cannot be taken from us which is none of ours.

That consideration will do us great and good service in this Treatise. And to beginne, let us make use of Epictetus his distinction for the distri∣bution of the principal things about which we have need to rectifie our opinion, that we may be wise and tranquill every where.

The things that depend not of us are either the goods of fortune (as they are called) which are riches, honour, friends, and family; Or goods of the body, as beauty, strength, health, pleasure and life it selfe; As these things depend not of

us, no more do their contraryes, poverty, disho∣ner, enemyes, losse of friends, deformity, paine, sicknesse and death. When one hath those for∣mer at will, that state is called prosperity the latter, passe under the name of adversity.

The things that depend of us, or rather of the grace of God in us, which becomes the best part of ourselves are piety, honesty, wisedome, di∣ligence, and their contraries depend of us, also, yet with some dependance from outward agents, the world and the Devill.

There be other things of a mildle rank, which partly depend of us, partly not, and therefore are ours onely in part, as learning and capacity where industry and diligence may do much, but nothing against or without nature, and they are lost by age and sicknesse, and other outward causes.

Let us review this order with more leasure, and weigh the price and inconvenience of each thing; for without that, it is impossible to be∣have our selves about them with a judicious tran∣quillity. We beginne with things belonging to prosperity.

CHAP. III. Of Riches.

OF things that depend not of us, the most re∣mote from us are the goods of fortune; The

goods of the body are neerer, for our body is the house of our minde, which is our trueselfe, and whose goods are properly ours. Yet such is the imprudence of men, that they are most bu∣sy about that which is most remote, and neglect that which is neerest and most essential to them; for the goods of the body, neglecting those of the minde; and for the goods of fortune, neglecting those of the body; They will forfeit their con∣science to please and serve their body, and haz∣ard their body to get or preserve the goods of fortune. Whereas they should follow a clean contrary order, hazarding and neglecting their body, if need be, for the good of the mind, and the goods of fortune for both. [Here I say once for all, that by fortune I understand not blind chance, since Gods providence rules all, but the exteriour of a mans condition as it is distinct from those things which properly belong to the body and the mind.]

So farre I will comply with the humour of the world as to speak of riches in the first place, for it is that they seek before all things, shewing by their actions, which alwayes must be beleeved rather then words, that they hold it the first and chiefe good. Pecunia ingens generis humani bonum. An errour, that hath provoked some to oppose it with another errour, saying that money is the root of all evill. St. Paul decides the difference, saying that the love of money is the roote of all

evill; 1 Tim. 6. the love of money, not money it selfe. It is not wealth that doth the mischiefe but the weaknesse of men that cannot wield it, coveting it with greedinesse, purchasing it with wicked wayes, imploying it in unjust actions, keeping it with trouble, and losing it with des∣paire.

Riches are good, but in the lowest rank of all goods; for they have no place among laudable goods, there being no praise to be rich; Nor a∣mong goods desirable for their own sake, for they are desired because of other things. It is not na∣ture but custome and fancy that giveth price un∣to gold & silver, instead of which shells are used for commerce in some part of the East Indyes. But for fancy, a barre of Iron would be more pre∣cious then a wedge of Gold.

In one point, as indeed in all other respects, money is inferiour to other goods, as health, honour, and wisedome; that whereas one may enjoy them by keeping, and increase them by using, one must lose his money to enjoy it, and part with it to use it.

But in two things especially the imperfection of riches is seen; that they satisfye not the de∣sire, and that in the greatest need which is the redemption of the soul, they are of no use, ra∣ther a hindrance.

True goods are those that make the possessors good, which riches do not. They are indeed

instruments of good in the hands of those that can uve them well; But they are instruments of evill, in the hands of those that know not how to use them. And the number of these last be∣ing the greater by farre, riches do much more evill then good in the world. They stirre up folly, lust, and pride, and open a wide gate to wickednesse, yet themselves not wicked of their nature. To a well composed and disposed minde they are excellent helps to vertue, for they afford meanes for good education and matter for good actions. Wisedome and riches together is a faire match. The rich and wise Solomon speakes thus of it by his experience, Eccl. 7.11. Wisdome is good with an inheritance, and by them there is profit to them that see the Sunne, for wisedome is a defence, and money is a defence, the excellency of knowledge is, that wisdome gives life to them that have it.

The French version of that Text saith that Riches cover the owners, So they do, but it is as the shell covers a snaile, for they are a heavy toile∣some luggage, wherewith a man can advance but slowly, and without which he cannot goe; And if they shelter him from some injuries, they expose him to other; they provoke envy, and are a faire butt for fraude and insolency: So to go one step further in the comparison; that shelter may be broken upon a mans back, and he crusht under it.

To know the just price of riches, reckon what

they cost both to get and to keepe, what paines there is to get them, what danger and care in the keeping, what unsatisfaction in the enjoying, what uncertainty in the possession; Prov. 23.6. for they make themselves wings (saith Solo∣mon) which no humane art can clip; A thousand accidents, which no prudent forecast can prevent, make them suddenly flee away. The worst is, that they distract the minde from the true goods; for they that have got them and possesse them most innocently, if they will preserve them and keepe them from sinking (which they will natu∣rally do) must apply their mind to them, and much more, if they will increase them. Which interposition of the earth cannot but eclipse the cleare light of the minde, and hide heaven from the sight of the soul. This made the Lord Jesus to speak this sentence confirmed with an oath and a repetition. Matth. 19.23. Verily I say unto you, that a rich man shall hardly enter into the Kingdome of heaven. And againe I say unto you, It is easier for a Camell to go through the eye of a needle, then for a rich man to enter into the Kingdome of God. And truly although riches of themselves be not evill, but be as the minde of him that possesseth them is, good to him that useth them well, evill to him that useth them ill, yet the Devills haunt∣ing of gold mines, and places where money and plate is hid, gives a probable suspition that the Devill sticks by riches, and breatheth upon

them the aire of his malignancy.

Let every wiseman consider whether he will bestow for them as much as they cost, that is, whether he will weary his body, vexe his minde, offer violence to his conscience, bring his heaven∣ly soul captive under the things of the earth, & be diverted from seeking the goods which are onely permanent and true to them that have them once, to runne after deceitfull goods which are none of ours even when we have them; of which the keeping is uncertaine, and the losse certaine, though we might avoide the ordinary daingers, whereby foolish rich men destroy their wealth, and their wealth destroyes them.

The just measure of riches, is, as much as one needs for his use, for that which is above use, is of no use. How they must be used we shall consi∣der, when we treat of Passions. Here we seeke onely to know their price.

CHAP. IV. Of Honour, Nobility, Greatnesse.

THe proper rank of worldly honour is next after riches, for it is to them chief∣ly that honour is deferred. Without them the honour done to Vertue is but words. Indeed the honour that followes is but smoake, but yet smoake hath some substance, words have none.

Of honour gotten by vertue, and of its right worth, something must be said when we speake

of Renowne. Here we have to do with that out∣ward garish luster which dazleth the eyes of the vulgar, gets salutations, and opens a lane through the croud for a noble person. Riches are to ho∣nour that which the bones are to the body, for they keep it up: When honour loseth riches it falls to the ground, like hops without poles. Nobility with poverty doth but aggravate it, and make it past remedy; A misery described in two words by Solomon, Prov. 12.9. Honouring ones selfe, and lacking bread.

In time of peace it is wealth that brings nobi∣lity and greatnesse; In time of warre it is vio∣lence: for, by invasions, high titles and royalties of Lordships had their beginning. We may then value Nobility by its causes, for wealth hath no∣thing praise worthy, and it is the origine of new Nobility: Invasion is meere Injustice, & it is the Origin of ancient Nobility so much cryed up.

There is a natural Nobility consisting in gene∣rosity, and a nobility by grace which is our a∣doption to the right of Gods children; These two together make a man truly noble. Civil nobility is nothing in nature, and consisteth meer∣ly in the opinion of men and custome of nations. We deduce it from masculine succession, but in some Kingdomes of the East they derive it from the feminine, because every one is more certaine of his Mother then his Father. In China, learn∣ing, not extraction, gives nobility. In some places

nobility consisteth in merchandize. In some the military profession, in some in leading an idle life. Which different customes shew that world∣ly nobility lyeth altogether in fancy, and in effect is nothing.

Yet such as it is, it proveth a goodly ornament to Vertue; it is like enamell which being of small value sets off the luster of Gold. It addeth grace facility and power to vertuous actions. Many vertues are obscured or altogether hid by pover∣ty and meane condition. Sobriety in a poore man is imputed to indigence, continence to want of power, patience to basenesse. But these vertues become illustrious and exemplary, when humi∣lity meets with greatnesse, and temperance with power; Vertue then shines when it is set in a high Orbe, where a man takes for the measure of his desires, not what he can, but what he ought to do,. A right good man, being high and rich, hath great helpes to do good, and power prompts him both with the occasion and the desire.

On the other side, when greatness and meanes meet with a weake and perverse spirit, it doth harme in the world. And such are most men, whose vicious affections appeare not when they are kept under by poverty & obscurity, but when they rise, their vices will rise with them. As Or∣gans ill set, and ill tuned, shew not their defect while the bellowes lie down unstirred; but when

the winde is blowne into the pipes, they gall the eares of the hearers by their discord and harsh∣nesse. Likewise many vices lie mute and quiet, till the winde of honour and plenty get into them, and blow up an ill composed minde with audaciousnesse, rashnesse, and discordance with himselfe, which riseth too high with pride, and together falls too low by miserablenesse, and where all is out of tune by lust, insolence, and in∣temperance.

But even those that were evill before, unless they have constant minds, and throughly dyed with piety, will bee corrupted by honour and plenty. For all men whom wee call good are prone to evill, and no greater invitation to evill then facility.

And if great honour (which is never without great businesse) doth not corrupt a man, it doth interrupt him; and as it gives him meanes to do good, it takes off his mind from thinking of it, and many times binds his hands from doing that good which he intends, by reason of the diver∣sity of businesse and several inclinations of men which he must accommodate himselfe unto; it being certain the greater a man is, the more he is a slave. And it is in the highest condition that a man hath most reason to say after St. Paul Rom. 7.19. The good that I would I do not, but the evill which I would not that I doe. One is constrained to court those whom he despiseth, favour those

whom he feareth, shut his eyes many times to see neither vice nor vertue, till one use himselfe in good earnest to preferre conveniency before righteousnesse; There a mans life is a continuall Pageant of dissimulation, which he knowes in others, and returnes it to them, who also know it in him, yet both parties put on the face of re∣spect and kindnesse over an arrogant and mis∣chievous minde, and embrace those whom they would have choaked.

There also when a man would do good to o∣thers, very often he doth harme to himselfe. To advance one mans suite he must put back and discontent many, and get ten enemyes for one friend, who will lesse remember the good office, then the others the injury which they think to have received by the repulse. Truly high places are not fit for true friendship, for they take away the freedome from it, and by consequent the sweetnesse and the right use. In the throng of businesse and companie, the mind loseth its tran∣quillity; And many times after one hath lost his rest he loseth his labour also. It is a great mise∣ry for a man to be never his own, and to have no time to think of God, of which when one discon∣tinueth the use, he loseth in time the desire of it, and too many acquaintances make one a stranger with God: Paucos beavit aula, plures perdidit; Sed et hos quoque ipsos quos beavit perdidit. The Court advanceth but few persons, and destroyeth

many but even those which it advanceth it de∣stroyeth and spoyleth; for most men as they grow in height decrease in goodnesse, and many times in estate; like squibs which consume them∣selves as they ascend.

It is in few mens choice, whether they may be great or no, some being borne to it and obliged by their birth to maintaine their condition. Others being borne farre under it, and there kept by invincible necessity. Yet among great and small, some still are in possibility to raise their de∣gree and come to greater place. And whereas it is in the choyce of few persons whether they shall be great, it is in the choice of all, whether they will be ambitious, and aspire to high and nego∣tious places. Let a wise man consider whether honour be worth as much as it costs to get and to keep; whether hee would lose his rest for it, leave conversing with God to converse with men, runne the danger to become wicked to become great, and among the justlings of envy be alwayes ready to fall and break his neck. Let him weigh in the scales of a right judgement the respect and Opinion of others, against so much personal care, perill, and losse.

A middle degree of quality, enough to stand a little out of the dirt, is commodious and desi∣rable. The degrees above and beneath are sla∣very. But a wise and pious man finds liberty and nobility in any degree.

CHAP. V. Of Glory, Renowne, Praise.

FRom the honour that attends greatnesse and riches we passe to that which is deferred to Vertue, or that which beares the name of it. For this second sort of honour many generous spirits have contemned the first, and greatnesse, and riches, and life too; dying willingly that they night have glory, when they shall be past having any thing in this world.

Wise Solomon saith, that a good name is rather to chosen then great riches, Prov. 22.1. And better then be precious oyntment, Eccl. 7.1. The goodnesse of it lyeth in some facility that it gives to do good, for when mens minds are possest with a good opinion of a person they are susceptible of his counsels. Thereby also a man may better his condition.

The content that a good action gives to the doer is a real and solid good, but the content that the reputation of it giveth, is vaine and de∣ceitfull: If the Renowne be for vaine things, such as most things are in the world, it can yeeld but a contentment like itselfe, and though it be raised by real vertue, yet reputation is but dis∣course and the Opinion of others; It is hollow meat, and who so will feed upon it will soone be like that hungry Dreamer of whom Isaiah speak∣eth, who dreames that he is eating, but he awakes

and his soul is empty. Isa. 29.8. A wise and good man lookes for a better reward of his vertue then the talk of the world. No action is good if it be don for praise, or if approbation be sought of any but God and ourselves. John 5.44. How can ye be∣leeve (saith Christ) which receive honour one of a∣nother; and seek not the honour that cometh from God onely? Our actions ought to be such as to be of good savour, before the world, else they can do no good in the world: But that good savour must be sought as an accessory, not a principal, and must bee rejected, when instead of an acces∣sory it becomes a hindrance and a barre from the the principal, which is the glory of God and a good conscience: Let that witness beare testimo∣ny to our selves, and let men say of us what they will. My Opinions and Affections if they be good, make me good and happy, not the Opinion of my neigh bours.

A wise man must subject reputation to him∣selfe, not himselfe to her. If he can make her runne before him as his Harbinger, to prepare for him an accommodation wheresoever he go∣eth and get him a roome in the judgements and affections of men, it will be a prudent course. And it will be a point of prudence not to hunt reputation too eagerly: for Reputation is well compared to our shaddow, she fleeth from us when we run after her, and runnes after us when we run from her. She will go more willingly

where you would have her, if she go not of your errand but of her selfe, and doth better service when one thinkes not of her. If she be desired it is for something else; but to court her for her owne sake, it is more then she deserveth. A vertuous man will disdaine to do so much, when he ob∣serveth that she is more apt to speak of frivolous then serious matters, and will many times put a glosse of praises upon evill things. What a coyle doth Roman antiquity keep, about that harebrain'd girle Clelia for stealing a horse out of Porsena's Campe, where she was an hostage, and foording a River none of the greatest to returne to her Mothers chimney-corner? For that action a∣gainst the publique faith, rash, ungenerous, in∣just, and especially immodest in a mayd, her statue on horseback was publiquely set in the Market place, and fame is trumpetting her praise to the worlds end. It were easy to name many both of old & late date, that have got reputation at a very easy rate. How many famous men are like boyes crackers, that give a great report with∣out effect? How many toyes are talked of and extolled, while grave workes are buried in si∣lence? Since Fame hath trumpets, it is no won∣der that she fills them with winde; that goeth farre and fast by its leightnesse, and is fit to make a noise. But a solid vertue makes little noise, and the tongues of the vulgar do so much for her, as to let her alone.

The Renown of great and good things advan∣ceth but slowly, but recompenceth her slownes by her long lasting. But even in that long lasting there is vanity, for what benefit is it for vertuous men deceased, that the world speakes of them two thousand yeares after their death? Are their soules more glorious for it in heaven? Are their bodies the lesse cold in the grave? Yet for that hope of an outliving uselesse renowne gallant men will climb up a breach through a thick haile of musket shot and granadoes, that the world may say of them, These gentlemen are dead in the bed of honour: O brave men! It is pitty that these praises make not these brave men to rise from the dead for joy, preserve not their flesh from wormes and putrefaction, and make no roses nor violets grow upon their graves. Well let us pay them that praise which they have so deare bought. O brave men! But let us say also, O the folly of men, who having fed themselves with vanity in their life time, will not end their vanity with their lives, but seek to perpetuate it by their death.

It were strange that praise should do good to the dead, since it doth more harme then good to the living. For one that is encouraged with praise to do well, a thousand are thereby puft up with pride. It is hurtfull to weak spirits and troublesome to the strong. If praise were a real good, every one ought to praise himselfe, as

one feeds himselfe. And none ought to be a∣shamed to heare or speake his owne praise, for none ought to be ashamed of good things. That shame, is a proofe either that praise is not good or that it belongs not to us.

This deserveth a deeper consideration. Glory and praise among men are of those shades and images of divine attributes scattered in this infe∣riour world; of which shades the substance and reality is in God. Glory in him is a substance, yea his owne essence, and to him alone all Glory belongeth. The sparkes of glory that are in crea∣tures are rayes of that soveraigne splendour. Now these rayes go not streight like those of the Sunne, they go round and fetch a compasse to re∣turne to the principle of their being. Ps. 145.10. All thy workes shall praise thee O Lord, and thy Saints shall blesse thee. Since his works praise him by nature, his Saints must praise him by will. Those streakes of glory that are in his creatures, as comming from him, must returne to him by nature or by will. For although man be not able to give any glory to God by praising God, yet God knoweth how to receive from us that glory which we cannot give him, and to make himselfe glorious in his owne workes.

Here is then the reason why men are desirous of praise and glory, and yet are ashamed of it: Their desire of it is a natural sence that it is good; And that they are ashamed of it, is another

natural sense that it was not made for them. Wherefore a wise Christian will desire and seeke the glory of God: And when some image of that glory is given him by the prayses of men, hee will presently bring that praise and glory to God as Gods proper goods, saying, Glory is a Crown that was not made for my head, and on my knees I put it on the head of him to whom it properly belongs.

Such is praise in its Original and End, both which do meet; but being considered in its in∣feriour causes and conveighances, as it comes from and through men, it is a tide of popular applause, as subject to go downe as to come up, consisting in fancy, exprest in talke, rising up∣on small causes, and upon small causes falling againe. We must make more of our content then to pinne it upon such an uncertain possessi∣on; never reckoning among our goods a thing lying in the Opinion of another, and remain∣ing in the possession of the person that gives it, for humane praise belongs not to him that is praised but to him that praiseth, since every one is or ought to be master of his Opinions and words. They that give us praise retaine it in their pow∣er and may take it from us when they please.

CHAP. VI. Of the goods of the Body, Beauty, Strength, Health.

FRom the goods of Fortune which are altoge∣ther out of us and many times consist in ima∣gination, we come to the personal: beginning by those of the body.

The first is Beauty, which among bodily goods may be called the first gift of God, and the first advantage of nature. I say not, that it is the principal, for health is farre above it in excellen∣cy. But it cannot be denyed that it is the first, since God hath placed it in the entry, and on the front of this building of the flesh.

Beauty at the very first meeting winnes the good Opinion of beholders, and gives an advan∣tagious preconceit of a faire mind. Beauty is a signe of goodnesse of nature. The sweet vigour of the eyes, the smoth skinne, the lively white and red, the handsome lineaments of the face, and the comely proportion of the body are markes of a quick and well composed mind. Which yet is not peculiar to Beauty: For many persons in whom melancholy is predominant, which tanneth their skin, sets their eyes deepe in their head, & puts a sowreness on their brow, have a penetrating and judicious understanding. Open faces, which are the most beautiful, have commonly candid and serene soules, but none of the craftiest.

The observation that Pride is a companion to Beauty is not naturally true, but by accident; for beautifull persons being praised and admired of all, who can wonder that they grow proud, since so much paine is taken to make them so?

A good presence is well sorted with valour and wisedome, and doth excellent service to brave men, if they spoyle it not by affectation.

Beauty is the loadstone of Love; which courts her and calls its her faire Sun. And so she is, for it gets heat by Beauty. And as the heat caused by the Sun is allayed when the Sunne is set, so doth the heat kindled by Beauty lose its flame when Beauty its gone. When love outlives Beauty, some other causes must keep it alive, as vertue and utility.

Beauty is among desirable goods, not among the laudable; for nothing is laudable in us but the productions of our will and industrie. For which reason handsome women ought to reject prayses of their Beauty; for either these praises are inju∣rious to God, who as the Author ought to have the whole praise of his work; or they are injuri∣ous to them, and seeme to presuppose that they have made their beauty, and sophisticated na∣ture by art; for none ought to be praised for that he hath not done.

Great and rare Beauty in its nature is desira∣ble, but by accident; and as the world goes, it is more to be feared then desired, and does more

harme then good. It is hurtfull to the person that is endowed with it, for it exposeth her to temptations and insolence, which commonly make her wicked and miserable. It is hurtful to the person that woeth it or enjoyeth it, for it sets him as a marke for injuries. Many might have led a tranquil life, and escaped discredit, quar∣rel, ruine, and stabbing in the end, had not their wives bin too handsome.

But though beauty were not cumbered with all this danger, the nature and price of it must be well considered, that we may not expect of it a contentment beyond its kinde. Beauty is the ex∣teriour and superficiall ornament of a sickly and mortall body, the inside whereof is unpleasing to the eye, and would make the hearts rise of the admirers of the outside if they could see it. It is a faire blossom onely for the spring of life, which will fade with age, or wither with sicknesse and cares, in the very spring. It is a cheater, which promiseth much, & keepeth not promise, for the most amorous never found in it a delight an∣swerable to the desire that it kindleth. Take the right measure of the goodnes of that so much desired possession of beauty, so shal you not desire it above measure; and when you have it, you shall reape from it a more sincere content, be∣cause you shall require of it as much as its na∣ture affords, and no more.

Strength also and Health are things desired,

not laudable, as things that come by nature, not by will.

Great strength of body is commonly accom∣panied with a weake minde; and that dispro∣portion is augmented with much feeding, and obligeth nature to bestow the maine Magazine of spirits upon disgestion distribution of meat, and hardning of the brawnes of the limbs, to enable them for strong labour, leaving but few spirits to attend reasoning & contemplating. Speak to per∣petuall hunters, of the delight of speculation; you shall finde them little more capable of it then their hounds, which are the highest point of their meditation. To their minde is very conve∣nient the definition which Aristotle gives to the Soul, that it is the first act (that is the principle of the motion) of an organical body; for their soul seemes to be made for no other end but to move their body. It is certain that too great excercise of the body dulls the mind. The preheminency of man above beasts consisteth in reason, and the capacity of knowing and loving God. Men that are proud of their strength, robore corporis stolidè feroces, placing their advantage and content in a thing wherein they are inferiour to many beasts, descend from their dignity and take place under their natural subjects. He that with his forehead would knocke a great naile into a post, to the ve∣ry head, deserved this praise, that next to a Bull he had the hardest head of all beasts.

Health of all goods of the body is most to be desired, yea more then life; A truth not con∣tradicted by the knowne Maxime, that the end is better then the meanes, for I hold not health to be subordinate unto life, but life unto health. Being is the meanes, and well being is the end. Non est vivere sed valere vita. So Mecenas must be left to his owne Opinion & desire, who though he were maimed hands and feet, and had all his teeth loose in his head, and a bunch on his crooked back, would think himselfe well, if he had but life; Yea if by enduring the sharpest tortures of the cross he might keepe life he would willingly endure them. His enemies could wish him no greater harme, then to buy life at that rate.

The body being made for the soul, the true natural benefit of Health is not long life, but the liberty of the actions of the mind. For the minde stickes so to the body that it cannot act very freely in a body tormented with acute paine, or pined with a lingring disease. Wherefore that we may go through that necessary captivity as easily as may be, an especial care must be had of the health of our body; taking all occasion from it, of accu∣sing the excesses & ill government of the minde, for the corruption and inflammation of the hu∣mours; behaving ourselves with our body, not as living for it, but as unable to live in the world without it. Our minde was made for a better end then to serve the flesh. Yet let us give it

faithfully its due, as to the horse that carryes us in our journey: It must be fed and tended, else it will faile us in the way.

Curious persons commit two faults about the care of their bodies. They bestow much cost and labour to adorne them, but they neglect their health, exposing themselves halfe naked to cold aire to shew a fine halfe shirt, as if they furnisht their roomes with rich hangings, and suffered the raine to fall on them for want of repairing the roofe. In matter of cloathes, health and com∣modity are the best counsellors, not the eyes and Opinions of strangers.

Health must be acknowledged the richest jew∣ell of all temporal things, yea preferable to many ornaments of the minde. He that hath got much learning in the Tongues, and hath dis∣eased his body with watching, hath lost more then he hath got.

But the healthfullest body of the world is a tottering house which must every day be un∣derpropt with food, and (for all our care) will fall in the end. We must looke upon it as a te∣nement at will, which we hold under God our Landlord; not fearing but rejoycing that we must leave it, knowing that if our earthly house of this tabernacle were disolved, we have a building of God, a house not made with hands eternal in the heavens. 2 Cor. 5.1.

LIFE, I set neither among goods nor among

evils, for it is neither good nor evill in itselfe, but the subject of good and evill, like the pain∣ters cloath where all sorts of colours are couch∣ed. Such as it is, it must be put in the rank of those things that depend not of our will, and therefore must not be accounted ours, but used as a borrowed commodity. We must say more of it, when we speake of Death.

CHAP. VII. Of bodily Pleasure and Ease.

OF all arguments of meditation there is none where writers shew lesse sincerity then in this. Every one blames pleasure and ease, and yet every one seekes it. They tell us that it is the cause of all evill, that it poisoneth the passion, that it blindeth reason, that it is an enemy to good counsell, aad that it is impossible for Ver∣tue to stand with Volupty; Yet the same Au∣thors, love their ease, and their very discourses of ease are effects of ease, and productions of wits sweetned by prosperity.

Then they charge pleasure with the vices of men, whereas it is not pleasure but men that must be blamed: For pleasure doth not corrupt men, but men corrupt pleasure. It must be ac∣knowledged good in it selfe. It is the seasoning that God all-wise and all-good hath given to things profitable and actions necessary, that wee

should seek them. Look upon a brave horse with a judicious eye: After you have considered his great use, and praised the bounty of God for making an animal of so much service and com∣modity to man; praise God againe for making him so handsome and of such a gallant mettle; And acknowledge that the gracious Creator re∣garded as well mans delectation as utility. The delicious taste of fruits, the fragrant smell and gay colours of flowers, the fair prospect of groves, meadowes, calme and cleare waters, and all the delicate variety of Nature, speake very expresly that God, as an indulgent Father, hath taken great care to please and recreat us, and condemneth that sad and sowre wisedome which deemeth to merit much by avoiding (at least in shew) all that is pleasing in Nature. Of that kinde, is this prayer which may be read in many Bookes of devote contemplation, Lord give me grace to be delighted in no earthly thing: Which is as much as saying to God, that he was much overseen when he made his workes good and pleasant, since it is ill done to delight in them, That devotion wants common sence, if it be seri∣ous, and more if it be hypocritical.

We must then place bodily pleasure among the goods but among the least, and those in which beasts have more share then men. The more pleasures are simple and natural, (as they are among beasts) the more they are full and

sincere. But we by our wit make a toyle of a pleasure, and drown nature in art.

He that can set a right value upon Beauty, Health, and Strength, of which we spake lately, may easily do the same of the pleasure which they are capable to give or to receive. If then these qualities be but weake transitory and of short continuance, they cannot yeeld or feele a pleasure, solid, constant, and permanent. Health, the best of the three, is rather a privati∣on of disease then a pleasure, and it makes the body as sensible of paine as of delight, of which many that enjoy a perfect health are de∣prived.

It is a great abatement of the price of bodily pleasure, that one must seldome use it to use it well, yea and to preserve it, for the excesse of it is vicious, be the way never so lawfull; and the satiety of it breeds sastidiousnesse and wearinesse. Whereas true pleasure consisting in the know∣ledge and love of God, one cannot sinne, by ex∣cesse, nor lose the relish of it by fulnesse; but the appetite is increased, and the faculty mended by enjoying.

Pleasures of the body, though in themselves good and desireable, are given by God for some∣thing else, and to invite us to actions of necessi∣ty or utility: But spiritual pleasure, which is to know and love God, is altogether for it selfe, and for nothing beyond it: for there the pleasure

is so united with the duty, that the glory which we give to God, and that which we enjoy by knowing and loving him, are sweetly confound∣ed together and become but one thing.

This consideration, that bodily pleasures are appointed for a further end, helps much to un∣derstand their price and their use. For the plea∣sure of the taste is to invite the appetite to eate, eating is to live, living is to serve God; and betweene these two last, there are other subordi∣nations, for many actions of life are for the do∣mesticall good, domesticall good for the civill, the civill good for the religious. Bodily pleasure standing naturally on the lowest round of this ladder, is removed out of its proper place, when it is placed above the superiour ends; which is done, when the actions of life which are due to the domestical & civill good, and before and after all to the religious, are imployed to make a prin∣cipal end of those things that are subordinate to them as inferiour meanes. For we must desire to eate for to live, not to live for the pleasure of eating, & so of other natural pleasures, the desire whereof becomes vicious, when those things to which by nature they ought to serve, are subject∣ed unto them.

Pleasures are good servants but ill Masters. They will recreate you when you make them your servants: But when you serve them they will tyrannize over you. A voluptuous nice man

is alwayes discontented and in ill humor. Where others find commodity he finds incommodity. He depriveth himselfe of the benefit of simple and easy pleasures. He looseth pleasure by too much seeking. By soothing up his senses he diseaseth them, and paine penetrates sooner and deeper into a body softned with voluptuousnesse. But he that lesse courteth pleasure enjoyeth it more, for he is easily contented. To live at ease in the world we must harden our body, strengthen our mind, and abridge our cupidity.

In nothing the folly and perversity of the world is so much seene as in this, that of the things which Gods indulgence hath given to man for his solace and recreation he makes the causes of his misery, the baits of his sinne, and the mat∣ter of his condemnation; for, from the abuse of pleasure proceeds the greatest part of the evills that are in the world, both the evills which men suffer and those which they commit; Yea, from thence all evils proceed, if wee remount to the first sinne.

Therefore a wise man will abstaine from un∣lawfull pleasures, and taste the lawfull with moderation, lest that by excesse he make them unlawfull. Knowing that pleasure which stray∣eth from duty ends in sorrow; that it is no gal∣lantry to offend God; and that no delight can countervaile the losse of the serenity of consci∣ence. Vice it selfe will teach us vertue: For

when we see the slaves of voluptuousnes, get in that service a diseased body, a sad heart, a troubled conscience, infamy, want, and bru∣tality, we find it an ill bargaine to buy pleasure at so deare a rate.

This observation also will be of some helpe for the valuation of pleasure. That the plea∣sures that stick most to the matter are the most unworthy, as all the pleasures of the taste and feeling; and those pleasures that recede fur∣ther from the matter are more worthy as the pleasures of the sight: Wherefore the pleasure of hearing is yet more worthy, as having more affinity with the minde. And as they are more worthy they are also more innocent. But in all things excesse is vicious.

As excesse in pleasures is vicious, so is the de∣fect. For God hath made many handsome and good things to please us, in which neverthelesse we take no content, and many times reject them out of nicenesse. How many perfect workes of God strike their image into our eyes, and yet enter not into our thoughts? How many conve∣niences are sent to us by Gods good hand, suffi∣cient to fill our minds with comfort and thank∣fulnesse, if we had the grace to consider them; and we think not of them though we make use of them. We are so inchanted with false plea∣sures that we lose the taste of the true. But a wise man is innocently inventive to solace him∣selfe,

and finds every where matter of pleasure. All things without smile upon him, because his spirit is smiling within; and he lends to objects his owne serenity, whereby he makes them pleasant.

CHAP. VIII. Of the Evils opposite to the forenamed Goods.

IT is to make the title short, that I call them e∣vill, not to condemne without appeale & infor∣matition all that is not in the list of the goods of fortune and goods of the Body. By looking upon these goods we may judge of their opposites: An easy worke, for having found nogreat excellency in these goods & no solid content in the possession of them, it followes that to be without them is no great misery.

They must be viewed impartially, for there is both good and evil every where, although to speake Philosophically and properly, the true evill and the true good lie within us. The silly vulgar cannot comprehend that a man can finde his happinesse and unhappinesse within himselfe, and seeke their good abroad where it is not; toyl∣ing, sweating, and wearing out their life with labour in that quest and making themselves misetable out of feare of misery. Whereas most accidents without are neither Good nor evill in themselves, and become good or evill to us ac∣cording

to the disposition of our minds. And of things within us, there are but two in themselves evill, Sinne, and Paine.

Stoicians will not acknowledge paine to be evill, because it sticks to the body onely, which, say they, is mans lodging not man himselfe. But what-man feels all the incommodities of that lod∣ging▪ The soul is tyed by personal Union with the senses and really suffers what they suffer. So to maintaine, that paine is not evil when one feels it, commanding the outward countenance to unmoovednesse in the midst of the sharpe tor∣ments of the stone and the gout, laughing when one hath more minde to cry, is increasing paine with the addition of constraint, and heaping folly upon misery.

But paine becomes a blessing to the wise and godly, which learne by it to weane their hearts from the love of the world and themselves, and to seeke in God that comfort which they finde not in this world and this life: for all things helpe together for good unto them that love God.

Herein the senses may do good service to rea∣son & piety, to find content in many things where others find the contrary. Some will declame gainst the senses as ill Judges of the goodnesse and badnesse of things. To whom we must say that the senses are never Judges but informers, and that the ill information that our understan∣ding receiveth of the quality of the objects ought

not to be imputed to the senses, for they plainly report what they perceive, but to the prepos∣sest Imagination, which upon their simple infor∣mation frameth false Ideas, set off with colours of her owne, which she presents to the Judgement, and makes him Judge amisse through misinfor∣mation.

If we will then get good service from the sen∣ses for the right informing of our judgment, we must obtaine of ourselves these two points. The one not to receive their testimony but about their proper objects, which are the outward qualities wherewith the senses are affected. The other not to preoccupate them with Imagination, Opi∣nion, and Passion. So when they are confined to their owne province and become impartial witnesses, it will be easy to perswade our reason rather to beleev our owne sense, then the Opini∣on of another.

Thus, when we desire to know whether we be unhappy because we are deprived of riches, kept back from honours, without reputation, or ill reputed in the world, we must not referre our∣selves about that to the Opinion and talk of the world, but to our owne sense. Let us sincerely examine our senses, what harme wee receive by it. Are we more hungry or cold by these mis∣fortunes? Doth the Sunne shine lesse bright upon us? Is our bed harder? Is our meat lesse feeding? If our senses thus examined, have no∣thing

to complaine of, and yet we complaine that wee are come short of some hopes, that o∣thers step before us, that the world regards us not, or speakes ill of us; Let us ingenuously ac∣knowledge, upon the testimony of our senses, that we are well if we can beleeve it, and that it is not out of Sense but Opinion that we are afflict∣ed.

This is the difference betweene fooles and wise men, Fools consult Opinion and Custome: Wisemen consult reason, piety, and nature. Fooles regard what others think: Wisemen consider what themselves finde and feele. Fooles gape after things absent: Wisemen possesse the present and themselves. O how many men com∣plaine that have no hurt, but in their imagina∣tion! which is indeed a great hurt, and incurable many times. When you see a man rich and healthful, tearing his heart for some inconside∣rable losse, or for the rash words of an ill tongue; desire him to aske his senses, where the paine is. And if he feele no paine by it, why doth he put himselfe to paine? Why is he ill, when he may be well? He is well, if he can but heale his imagination. Is it not a disgrace to a reasonable creature, that whereas reason ought to rectify the sences, the senses should need to rectify rea∣son! and that men who love themselves so much must be exhorted to do no harme to themselves when they feele no harme? A rational godly

man will examine what he feeles, and will do no harme to himselfe when God doth him good. And when his senses have reason to complaine, he will quietly hearken to them, and rather beleeve their report about the measure of the evill then the cryes of the by-standers that com∣miserate him. He will not be easily perswaded that he is sicker then he is indeed, and will not increase his paine with his imagination. And whereas others make themselves sick out of ima∣gination when they are well; he will use his imagination, to make himselfe well when he is ill.

Not that I would advise a man to blind him∣selfe for feare of seeing, and dull his sense for feare of feeling evills: For the better we know the nature of things, the better we know how to deale with them, that we may avoid or beare the evill that is in them. But because ima∣gination hath a real force to increase or diminish many evils, it is the part of a wiseman alwayes to imploy the strength of his imagination to his advantage, never to his hurt.

The evills where the indulgence of Opinion must be used to make them lighter are the evills of the body and fortune; But as for the evils of the mind which are the vices of the understand∣ing and the will, there the flattery of Opinion is most dangerous; for the principal sicknesse of the mind is, that one thinkes not himselfe to be sick.

I have advised reason to take counsel of the senses when the imagination aggravateth the evil, or makes it, and yet the senses are free of paine: But when the senses are offended in earnest, then they must take counsel of reason, and more yet of piety, to finde some ease.

Let us meditate upon the nature of those evils of fortune and body, so much feared in the world. He that gives a right Judgement of the evill, hath halfe found the remedy.

CHAP. IX. Of Poverty.

THere be many degrees of civill poverty ac∣cording to the diversity of conditions and businesses. To a Soveraigne prince, it is Poverty to have lesse then a hundred thousand pounds a yeare; but to a husbandman it is riches to have twenty pounds a yeare rent free. In all conditi∣ons those are truly poore that have not where∣with to maintaine that course of life which they have set up, and all men that cannot satiate their cupidity. Thus very few rich men will be found in the world, since there are but few that aspire not to greater things then they can compasse, and desire no more then they have. All that finde want are poore, whether their want be of things necessary or superfluous, and among many degrees of poore men, there is but one Po∣verty.

Yet those are the poorest that finde want of superfluous things, because that kinde of pover∣ty is made worse by the increase of riches. To such men, God is just and merciful together, when he healeth that wanton-need, with a pinch∣ing need of things necessary.

Need is the thing that is generally most feared of all men: Certainly it is most incommodious, even to the wisest. Wherefore the Wiseman in the 30. of Proverbs besought God that he would not send it him. It is an ordinary theme for elo∣quence and flourishes of wit to maintaine that Need is not evill; and they that descant more upon it are they that lesse feele it; as Seneca, a man of prodigious wealth, who many times com∣mends extream poverty, or the condition that is not farre from it. They say indeed that it is to the wise onely, that need is not evill; but because that must be proved by the experience of a true and perfect wiseman, we would have the testi∣mony of such a man: but such a man we finde not, neither do all the sects of Philosophers that profest poverty, afford such an example. For we will not stand to the arbitrement of that sawcy begger Diogenes, a vaine sordid and affected man in all his words and actions, who tooke a nasty pride in an impudent mendicity. If poverty did not make him evill he made poverty evill, turning it into a profession; and instead of mak∣ing it an exercise of vertue, using it as a pretence of idlenesse and licentiousnesse.

To the ordinary sort of minds, Need is a gulfe of misery. Prov. 14.20. The poore is hated even of his own neighbour. Every one hides himselfe from him. Need makes men ashamed, and shame increaseth their need. Some also by Need are made shamelesse, and in the end bold theeves. Qui paupertatem timet, timendus est. Need is an ill counsellor: It makes men murmure against God and finde fault with the distribution of his goods. It beates down the courage, stupefyeth or sowreth the wit, and clips the wings of con∣templation. It is hard for one to have high con∣ceits, when he wants bread.

Yet, to speake properly, Want doth not all that evill, but the evill disposition of men, that have not weaned their heart from the world, nor sought their only treasure in heaven, & have not chosen God for their portion: No wonder that their spirit is beaten down as well as their fortune, when the worldly ground, which they had built upon, sinkes under their feet.

But he that despiseth the world and the life of the world, despiseth also Want so much feared by others. For, take things at the worst, (a per∣petual rule of wisedome about casual future things) the worst that can come to him that is without bread, is to be without life, which a thousand other accidents may take from us. Life is a depositum which God hath committed to our keeping: No lawful diligence and industry must

be omitted that we may preserve it and give a good account of it to God; And himselfe having trusted us with it, assists us to keepe it. Very seldome it is heard, that any persons dye for lack of bread. But precious in the sight of God is any death of his Saints, Psal. 116.15. Neither is there any more curse in dying of hunger, then of a surfet.

Of all kinds of death, but the suddaine, I hold death for want of food to be the easiest. It is no more but letting the lamp quietly to go out. Atticus after a long fast to overcome an acute sicknesse, having lost the appetite of meat, lost al∣so the appetite of life, and refusing to take any more meat, dyed without paine. And so Tullius Marcellinus, after an abstinence of three dayes Mollissime excessit et vitae elapsus est, he departed most quietly and escaped from life, saith Seneca. He spake better then he meant, saying that he escaped; for such a volutary death was an escape from the station, where God hath placed him. He went from life without commission, for God had given him wherewith to keep it: But he to whom God giveth no more wherewith to keep himselfe alive must acknowledge that his commission is out, & depart cheerefully. For to prevent death by sordid and unlawfull wayes is more then God calls him unto, and more then life is worth. To say, necessity compels me to these wayes, and otherwise I cannot live, is an ignorant or wilfull mistake of Necessity; The wayes cannot

be necessary, when the end is not so: And before a man conclude that such wayes are necessary because without them he cannot live, he should consider whether it be necessary for him to live. It is necessary for us to be righteous and gene∣rous; not, to live. Who so conceiveth no neces∣sity in life, and no evill in death (which to Gods children is the end of all evills, and the beginning of all happinesse) will soon rid his heart of that cowardly fear of dying for want, and reject the temptations to lead an ill life that he may keep life.

The feare of Want is for want of obeying Christs command, Matth. 6.34. not to take thought for the morrow; and for want of observing the course of his providence which provideth for his creatures that cannot provide for themselves: Beasts sleep quietly not knowing and not think∣ing where they shall get meat the next day. You will say, it is because they have no reason and no foresight; and were it not better to have no reason, then to make no use of it but for our vexation! Were it not better to be incapable of thinking on God as beasts are, then to think on him onely to mistrust and murmure against his providence?

A poore man to whom God giveth health & in∣dustry to get his living is possest of a great trea∣sure, and a stock yeelding him a daily rent. His condition is incomparably more happy then that

of the noble and wealthy. The labour that gets him bread, gets him also an appetite to eate it, and sleep to refresh him when he is weary, and health to continne his labour; Eccl. 5.12. The sleep of a labouring man is sweet, whether he eate little or much, but the abundance of the rich will not suffer him to sleep: His many children give him lesse care, then fewer children to the rich, and lesse paine also to provide for them. For where∣as in noble houses the c••arge groweth alwayes as the children grow; in poore families that live by labour the charges grow lesse as the chil∣dren grow; the Sonnes serve the Father in his worke, the Daughters spin by their Mother. Children are the riches of poore people, and the impoverishing of the rich. Then to give them portions; the Father that hath no land is not troubled to engage the Lordships of the eldest Sonne for the marriages of his Daughters, nor to charge the land with annuityes for the younger Brothers. Each of them hath the whole succession, which is their Fathers labour. No doubt, but that is the most tranquil condition of all.

The examples are many, of those that lived merrily and sung at their worke as long as they were poore; but an inheritance unlooked for, being fallen into their lap, they have given over singing, and turned sad and full of thoughts. Anacreon came once to that trouble, but he rid

himselfe of it. He was a Poet, and consequent∣ly poore. Polycrates the rich Tyrant of Samos be∣stowed two or three thousand Crownes upon him. But Anacreon after he had kept them three dayes restored them to his benefactor, be∣cause, said he, that-money would not let him sleep. Which action was not the production of a Philosophical minde, for by his Poemes now extant it appeareth that wine and women were the highest spheres of his contemplation; but the true cause was, that he found riches heavier to beare then poverty.

I was saying that Poverty beates down the courage and stupefyeth the wit; but it is onely with them that had no great courage and no great wit before, and they would have bin more beaten down and stupefyed by riches, but in a∣nother way: for riches swell indeed the cour∣age with pride, but they beat it down at the same time with feare, and make it soft with voluptu∣ousnesse; they slacken diligence, & blunt the edge of industry, but poverty whets it, & awakens and sharpens the wit, if there be any. Riches in a competent measure are more accommodate to the operations of the speculative understanding; for high and curious contemplations require a minde free of cares, and rested with plenty. A man that wanteth bread hath no thoughts of finding longitudes and the pole of the load-stone, or the exquisiteness of eloquence: Magnae mentis

opus, nec de lodîce parandâ Attonitae. Poverty is fitter for the operations of the practical understanding, for necessity is the mother of arts. Magister artis ingenîque largitor venter: We owe most part of mechanique inventions to men put to their shifts.

The best thing that is in Poverty is, that meet∣ing with a sound and godly mind, it helps to weane it from the world, and raise it up to God, which is the great worke of a Christian, to which riches are a great hindrance. He that hath but little in the world, finds in his poverty a great motive to lay up treasure it heaven, to which he is invited by the example of the Lord Jesus, who made himselfe poore to make us rich in God. To the poore was the Gospel first preacht, and when it was preach to the rich and poore to∣gether, the poore were the first that embraced it, because they were lesse tyed unto the world, and at more liberty to go to God.

It is most observable that all persons admit∣ted by God to salvation are received in the quali∣ty of poore, and the rich must make themselves poore before God through humility and meek∣nesse, that they may be capable of that high blessing whereby Christ began his sermon, Mat. 5 Blessed are the poore in spirit, for theirs is the King∣dome of God. To that Poverty in spirit the pover∣ty in worldly goods is a great help. A wise and godly man, that knoweth how to get advantage

by all things will prudently manage all the helps to heaven which poverty affords, when he shall be brought to that condition. He will become more serene in his devotions, more resolute in his dangers, more undaunted to maintaine the truth, lighter to flee from one Citty to another in time of persecution, and better disposed at all times to welcom death, casting no back-look upon the world where he hath nothing to lose. If he had once riches, and hath lost them, he will acknowledge that they were none of his, since they could not stay with him; for the true goods of a man are inseperable from him, as being within him. These goods are, a right reason, integrity of conscience, the love of God, faith in his promises, and an appetite led by reason and piety. With that patrimony he may say with more reason then Bias, in what condition soever he be, I carry all my goods along with me. The goods of fortune deserve not the name of goods.

To him that desireth nothing but what is suffi∣cient to Nature, poverty doth no harme; and to him that desireth more, poverty doth good; for it brings him to sobriety. To have little and to be contented with it, is a great wealth.

Poverty and riches having their commodities and incommodities, the most desireable tempo∣ral estate is the midlemost, which is neither, and holds of both. That state the wise man requested at Gods hands, Prov. 30.8. Give me neither po∣verty

nor riches, feed me with food convenient for me; Lest I be full and deny thee, and say who is the Lord? and lest I be poore and steale and take the name of my God in vaine. But our condition is not in our choice. Vertue and tranquillity of minde may be had in any fortune, because they depend not of fortune.

CHAP. X. Of low Condition.

IT is, in the Judgement of many, worse yet then poverty; and it is for its sake that they feare poverty. It is of several degrees and is more or lesse grievous according to the diversity of persons and designes. To them that aspire to honours, but are kept back, and think they lose all they cannot get, it is unsufferable; and more yet to them that had honours and were justled out of them; for men will get up to honour with a good will, but none descends from it unlesse he be hurled downe; which hath given occasion to the institution of yearely Magistrates. Others are bred in a low condition and aspire not much higher, yet they groane under the yoake which their condition ingageth them unto. Thus all are discontented, and none are so high but think themselves too low.

The low condition indeed is slavish, especially in France and Poland; and he that can handsomely

get out of the bottom where the land-flood of the publique stormes stayeth, and take himselfe out of the number of the beasts of carriage, shall do prudently to seek his liberty. St. Pauls advice is judicious Art thou called being a servant? care not for it: but if thou mayest be made free, use it ra∣ther. 1 Cor. 7.21. If it be impossible for a wise∣man to get that liberty, let him consider that as the low condition is more onerous, so it is lesse dangerous; In France especially, where although the armies consist of high and low, yet the maine shock of battles falles upon the Gentry, and the best of the Nobility. The hazardous attempts fall to their share. All may follow warre, but the Gentry hold it their proper trade. The French Gentleman is borne in a manner with his sword by his side. Who so will observe how in noble houses two thirds of their branches are lopt off by warre, shall finde that the Nobility and Gen∣trie pay deare for their immunities.

To beare with the low condition, one should observe well the inconveniences of the high. The higher a man stands, the fairer mark doth he give to envy, secret undermining, and open hostili∣ty. Great places are like stilts upon which a man hath but a tottering standing, especially in a croud, where all justle against him to make him fall. A Crowne loads a Kings head and covers it not, but lets in on all sides the arrowes that are shot against it. There is no need of deep Phi∣losophy

to be free from the desire of it, and of all places of great respect and great busines. One needs but know them, and love himselfe. All great dignities are great miseries. It must needs be that there is some fatality for the subsistence of the general, that sets-on men to thrust blindly forward for high dignities; Otherwise men be∣ing all voluptuous & lovers of themselvs, would not take so much labour as to climb up with hands and feet unto their misfortune. A wise man will love his own rest better then to crowd for dignities; choosing rather to sit upon lower steps, and to owe his tranquillity to his obscuri∣ty. He will esteeme no honour or great imploy∣ment worth losing the liberty of meditation, and the holy and heavenly conversation with God: for who would come from heaven to be toyling in the earth? As valleys have lesse wind and more heat of the Sunne then mountaines, so the low condition hath lesse agitation then the high, and the rayes of the Snune of righteous∣nesse will commonly shine upon it more graci∣ously and powerfully,

Nobility of extraction being nothing in na∣ture, the same is true also of meane blood; both consist in Opinion, and yet not in opini∣on of the persons concerned, but of others, which to any wiseman must be of very smal con∣sideration. In any condition one may have na∣tural nobility, consisting in a meeke and mag∣nanimous

disposition, apt to the knowledge of great things, and so well seasoned with vertue. By that description how many ignoble persons will be found among the Noble by extraction, and how many noble among persons of meane descent? God deliver us from Gentlemen of the savage kinde that make nobility to consist in barbarousnesse, idlenesse, and contempt of di∣vine and humane lawes; and from ignobleup∣starts, who to approve themselves Gentlemen strive to outdoe them that are so, in pride and licentiousnesse.

But there is a nobility infinitely above the best natural nobility. (I bring not the Cvil within this comparison, it is nothing but fortune and Opinion) That high transcendent nobility is but to be the child of God by Jesus Christ, and heire of his Kingdome. The titles of that nobility are from all eternity, and will be to all eternity; and by it a man riseth so high as to become parta∣ker of the divine nature, 2 Pet. 1.4. saith St. Peter. Who so hath the patents of that nobility, and makes himselfe sure of them by a lively faith working by love, is neither puft up nor beaten downe with his temporal condition. He will look with contempt upon the vulgar contentions about the first place, much like the emulation of horses striving who should go the formest of a company. And truly it is a quality of good hor∣ses not of good men. A man honoured with

spiritual nobility if he have temporal nobility be∣sides, must keep his degree, but esteeme it too low to glory in it. And if he have not that worldly advantage, he will be content with the heavenly, knowing that being one of Gods children he cannot be further ennobled.

As we that live upon Earth find it very great, and see the Sunne very little although it be a hundred and threescore times greater then the Earth; Likewise to men altogether earthy, the honours of the earth seeme very great, and the heavenly nobility but a small thing: But if from the Orbe of the Sun the Earth may be seene (as it is very likely) no doubt but it appeares a very small thing, as lesser then most of the visi∣ble Starres. Worldly honours appeare lesser yet, to him that hath the true sence of his heavenly nobility, and lookes upon Earth as it were from Heaven. The time draweth nigh that will make Kings and Beggers alike in the dust.

CHAP. XI. Of Dishonour.

REal dishonour is within, and consisteth in viciousnesse and indignity of the person; for by it a man is separate from God the scource of honour, out of whom there is nothing but dishonour and misery. But the dishonour which we are here to consider is out of the person, and

consisteth in the Opinion of others. These two sorts of dishonour do not meet alwayes, for ma∣ny that are vicious and infamous before God are honoured of men, even because they are vicious; and others that are good & honoured with Gods love, are blamed and dishonored of men, even be∣cause they are good; So erroneous and fantasti∣call is the judgement of the multitude.

We have already found that therenowne and praise that men give is but winde; that is enough to judge that the blame and infamy which they give, is of the same substance. It is such an ima∣ginary evill, that it is almost impossible to find out in what subject it subsisteth. It is not in him that is blamed, for what is that to him that is in the grave, or to him that is alive and knowes it not, or careth not for it? It is not also in him that blameth; for it proceeds indeed from him but subsisteth not in him: else he that blameth ano∣ther for a murther should be a murtherer him∣selfe. If then the blame subsist neither in the blamed, nor in the blamer, where shall wee finde its subsistence betweene both? It may be concei∣ved that it subsisteth in the blamed person be∣cause it sticks so fast many times to him, and pe∣netrates so deep, that it kills him with sorrow. Yea but to speak properly and truly, it is not the blame that doth the harme, but the imaginati∣on of the blamed, prevented with an erronious Opinion, which makes a man fansy an evil where

there is none, and do to himselfe that harme which none could have done him but himselfe: And is not that voluntary paine, which is not felt unlesse a man have a minde to feele it? God give me never greater evills then those that cannot hurt me unlesse I will be hurt, and have need to begge my consent and my hand to give me the blow.

A wise man will despise, not onely that ima∣ginary evil, but even the remedy. For what need of a plaister where there is no sore? When his friends come to him to comfort him because that some have spoken ill of him, he will desire then to apply the remedy where the disease is, even to the rashnes of the judgement of those weake persons, and to the intemperance of their tongue. And will think that their applying a balsome of consolations to his heart, for a sick∣nesse in his neighbours braines, no lesse strange and extravagant, then if they would warme his bed because his horse hath a cold.

This is indeed the right reasoning when the thing is considered in its proper and bare nature, but because the world being prepossest with a wrong opinion of a worthy man may be perswa∣ded to do him harme, or hindred to do him good, or deprived of the good he might do to the pub∣lique; that worthy man must not altogether neglect to rectifye the misconceits taken against him, which he may with lesse difficulty atchieve

by a serene and constant course of integrity then by finding and proving, confuting, and keeping a great bustle to bring contrary witnesses face to face. Innocency and the confidence that attends it must needs stand so high above the babling of the vulgar, as to be no more moved with it then the Starres with the wind ••••owing in the lower Region.

The dishonour that hath some ground in the truth must be wiped off, not by excuses, but by amendment. Is one blamed for being vicious? He must be so no more. And that out of hatred of vice, not of dishonour, which being but a sha∣dow of it will vanish at the rayes of Vertue.

CHAP. XII. Of the evills of the body, Unhandsomnesse, Weaknesse, Sicknesse, and Paine.

OUr judgement being satisfyed that the good of the body, beauty, strength health and pleasure are none of the great goods, we ought also to bee perswaded that their contraries are none of the great evills. And if our very bo∣dies must not be accounted ours because we can∣not dispose of them at our pleasure, and because by the undermining of age they sinke, and slip away continually from themselves; the commo∣dities and incommodities of these fraile tene∣ments at will, where our soules are harboured

for a few daies as ought not to disquiet us mat∣ters of any importance.

To beginne at Unhandsomnesse; if a woman be unhandsome (for that sexe is especially sensible of that disgrace) let her stay but a while; age will bring all the beauties to her row, within few yeares, and death after; That last day draweth neere, which will make faire and foule alike, strong and weake, sick and sound; them that are tormented with dolour, and them that tor∣ment themselves with voluptuousnesse and curi∣osity. Whosoever is much grieved with those incommodities never apprehended aright the frailty of the opposite commodities. We must not be vexed for the want of things, which by their nature decay and perish very houre.

There are few incommodities but have a mix∣ture of commodities, which a wise lover of his owne tranquillity will pick and convert to his advantage. The unhandsome woman shall not be admired, but in recompence she shall not be tempted nor importuned as a prey by lust and in∣solence. She hath with her a perpetual exhorter to humility, piety, and all vertue, and to recom∣pence the want of beauty with goodnesse. Sel∣dome is unhandsomnesse reproached to women, but to them that aggravate with malice & envy their disgraces of nature. Beauty cannot be ac∣quired, but goodnesse may. Yet among them that want beauty, some are so wise and so good that

they become handsome. They are commonly more happy in marriage then great beauties; for they give lesse jealousy to their husbands, and study more to content them.

Persons of weak constitution are lesse obnoxi∣ous to acute sicknesses, which many times will kil strong bodyes in three or foure dayes. They are lesse tainted with that stupid pride, which com∣monly attends great strength of body. Finding themselves inferiour to others in excercises of strength, they apply themselves to exercises of wit, to which commonly they are more apt. As weezels have more mettle and nimblenesse then Oxen; there is often more industry and quick∣nesse of wit in little weak men, then in men of of large and brawny limbs; for the predominan∣cy of blood and phlegme which makes the body large, is the duller temper for wit; whereas cho∣ler and melancholy which by their contractive quality limit the stretching of growth to a lesser extent, serve also, the one to sharpen the wit, the other to give solidity to the judgement. Weake∣nesse reads to a man a continual Lecture of pru∣dence and compliance; for being not able to car∣ry on his designes with a high hand, dexterity onely will serve his turne.

Also that want of strength teacheth him to make God his strength, sticking fast to him by faith and a good conscience. That way the weak∣est become too strong for all the world. When I

am weake then I a•• strong saith St. Paul. 2 Cor. 12.10.

Of this, Gods children have a blessed experi∣ence in sicknesse, whereby God makes their bo∣dy weake to make their faith strong, and their soules, by the dolours and lingring decay of their bodies, susceptible of many salutary les∣sons, for which health and ease have no eares.

Sicknesse and paine are evill in their nature, but they are good by accident, when God is pleased to turne evills into remedies, to bring a man to repentance and make him looke up to the hand that striketh. They are punishments to sin and wayes to death, but to the faithful soul they become instruments of grace and conveighances to glory. Many of them that beleeved in the Lord Jesus while he conversed among men were brought to it by bodily sicknesses, And he when he healed a sick person, often would say, Thy sins are forgiven thee.

To give an impartial judgement of their qua∣lity and measure, one must rather beleeve what he feeles then the cryes and compassion of them that love him, and have interest in his preserva∣tion. They say, that a man is very sick when he feeles not his sicknesse. Yet he hath so much good time, till he feele it, If the paine be sharp, it is short; If it be little it is tolerable; If the evill be curable, be patient, good Cure will heale it, If the evill be incurable, be patient death will

heale it. No evill is superlative when one is cer∣taine to come out of it; By life or by death there must be an end of thy sicknesse.

All the remedies that Pagan Philosophy gi∣veth in extremities, come to this, that patience is a remedy to evills that have none. But here Christian Philosophy openeth the treasure of divine comforts, which to make the faithfull man patient in tribulation, make him joyfull in hope, & shew him the crown ready for him at the end of the combat. In the combat he is strength∣ened by faith; and the comforter whom Christ promist to his disciples, powerfully assisteth him in his last agony; Or if his triall be prolonged, he tels him, as Paul buffeted by a messenger of Satan 2 Cor. 12.9. my grace is sufficient for thee, for my strength is made perfect in weaknesse.

By that grace, sicknesse beates downe pride, quencheth lust, weaneth the heart from the love of the world, makes the soule hungry and thir∣sty after righteousnesse. Theodoricus Archbi∣shop of Collen with great wisdome exhorted the Emperour Sigismond, to have the will in health to live holily, as he said when he was tormented with the gravel and gowte. Sicknesses give to a godly man a sense of his frailty: when wee feel these houes of mud, our bodies, drooping towards the ground their originall, then doe we sigh for that building of God, that house not made with hands, eternall in the heavens. 2 Cor. 5.1, There∣fore

labour and heavy load make us seek to him that saith, come unto me all ye that labour and are hea∣vy loaden, and I will give you rest. Matth. 11.28. Thus evil doth good to them that are good, and helps evil men to turne good. In sicknesse and dolours Gods children find the peace of the soule and contentment of mind.

CHAP. XIII. Of Exile.

TO speake of exile after dolour, is an abrupt passage from sensible evils to imaginary. The world is the natural and general countrey of al men: To be exiled is but to be sent from one Province of our Countrey to another. That other Province, where one is exiled is the Countrey of them that are borne there, and of them also that live there exiled, if there they get accomodation. That particular Province which a nation calls their Countrey, is a place of exile to them that are borne in it, if they doe not know it; as to Oedi∣pus, exiled from the place where he was bred, to the place where he was borne. Children brought from nurse to the mothers house wil cry, taking it for a place of exile. It is a childish weaknesse in a man to thinke him-selfe lost when he is in a place where he never was before. Eve∣ry where wee have the same nature, the same heaven, men of the same kind. Reasonable crea∣tures

should be ashamed to be surmounted by un∣reasonable, in that easinesse to shift Countreies. Swallowes hatch about our houses, are banisht from our Climat by the approach of winter, and they make no difficulty to goe seeke another be∣yond al the lands and Seas of Europe: but men wil cry when they are driven from their chimney corner, having the choice of al places of the world which is so large. Yet that advantage we have over birds and beasts, that al Countries are not alike to them, but al Countries are alike unto vertue, and to us if we have it; for that treasure no enemy can hinder us to carry along with us.

We may indeed be exiled into an ill Countrey, but that Countrey is never the worse for not be∣ing our Countrey. All lands are in equal distance from heaven, the Countrey of gods children. God is as soon found in the land of our exile, as in that of our birth and sooner too; for God is neer those that are destitute, and preserveth the stranger, Psal. 146.9. Are you banisht by a Tyrant? Thinke how many persons are exiled from their countrey and dearest relations by their covetousnesse, which is the worst tyranny, ranging the un∣known seas of a new world for many years; some to fetch cucineel and pearles from burning cli∣mats, others to get sables and hermines from the snows under the Pole. Some are banisht by others, some bythem-selves. Nothing is strange to a man when his wil goeth along with it; we need

but to encline our wil where necessity calls us. Impatience in exile is want of a right apprehensi∣on of the condition of gods children in the world. Heaven is their countrey. Life is their Pilgrim∣age. They are strangers even in the place of their birth, yea in their very bodys: Whilest we are at home in the body, we are strangers from the Lord, saith Paul. 2 Cor. 5.6. Being then stran∣gers in al places of the world, one place must not seeme to us more strange then another. Wee are never out of our way, as long as we are go∣ing to God.

CHAP. XIV. Of Prison

PRison is the grave of the living. There men are buried before their death: Liberty is the priviledge of nature, without which life is a con∣tinual death. And it were better to have noe life then not to enjoy it. All beasts enjoy liberty, some few excepted that have lost it by being too much acquainted with us.

But as there is need of iron cages to keepe ly∣ons, there is need in the world of prisons and captivity to keepe in men that wil not be ruled by reason & equity. And though many be impri∣soned wrongfully, if they have the grace to look up to God, the disposer of their condition, they will acknowledge, that God is wise to use them

so, and that licentious humour hath need of re∣straint.

Or if they need it not they have lesse need to afflict themselves: A well composed spirit is free in the closest Prison; bonds and fetters can∣not restraine his liberty. The worst fetters are covetousnesse, ambition, lust, appetite of re∣venge, wherewith many that seeme free are kept in bondage. Who so can shake them off is at liberty, though he were in a dungeon. Such was St. Pauls freedom in a chaine. 2 Tim. 2.9. I suffer trouble (said he) as an evill doer, even unto bonds, but the word of God is not bound. The grace of God also cannot be bound, and many times God makes use of the bonds of the body to set the soule free. A man is very hard tyed to the world, if he cannot be untied from it by a long imprisonment.

Prison will bee lesse tedious to him that re∣membreth that it is his natural condition. That he was nine moneths Prisoner in his Mothers wombe. That after his death he shall be made close Prisoner under ground; And that as long as he liveth he is loaden like a snaile with his owne Prison, which he carrieth about slowly, and with great incommodity; a clog put by our wise Master to the swiftnesse and quick turnes of our spirit which is alwayes in action. Think how fast our thoughts go, which in a moment travell from one end of the world to the other, and how

high our designes will rise, whose wings we are constrained to clip and abruptly to pull down our soaring minde, to look to the necessities of our craving body, and then acknowledge that our body is a very Prison, confining the spirit, which is the Man. The imprisonment of that body is no great addition to its captivity. It is but put∣ting one boxe within another.

And if we looke about us, how much captivity do me meet with in society! Is not ceremony a slavery which is multiplyed and diversifyed at every meeting? Are not honours golden fetters, and businesses Iron fetters? Do not publique factions enslave particular interesses, and spread nets for the conscience? Many times that capti∣vity is avoided by that of the Counter and the Fleet. To many their prison hath been a Sanctua∣ry, and a strong hold against the dangers of a turbulent and destructive time.

No dungeon is so close as to keep the faithfull soul from rising to God. They that are forbid∣den the sight of their friends, may converse with God at any time, which is a great liberty: And the Lord Jesus who recommends that worke of mercy to visit the prisoners, himselfe doth care∣fully practise it, comforting by his Spirit his dis∣ciples to whom the assistance of men is denyed, and shewing them heaven open when they are lockt and bolted. In effect it is the body, not man, that is imprisoned. The Jalour may keepe

out a prisoners friends from him, but he cannot shut out comfort and tranquillity from his soul.

CHAP. XV. Husband, Wife, Children, Kindred, Friends: Their price, their Losse.

IT may seeme that these should have bin put a∣mong the goods of fortune. To which I might answer somewhat Stoically, that it is not alto∣gether certaine whether they must be put among the goods or among the evills, for they may be either, as it falls out. But I rank them with nei∣ther, but among exteriour things, of which we must labour to get the right Opinion.

To that end we must alwayes consider them two wayes, as they are good or bad, and as they are neare to us in blood, or bonds of duty. Nei∣ther must the second relation hinder the first, so forestalling the mind with the relations of Hus∣band or Wife, Sonne or Brother, that one be in∣capable to make a right Judgement of their dis∣position and capacity, and set a just price on them.

The onely relation of Parents must spread a vaile of reverence betweene our eyes and their imperfections, that we may see nothing but good in them. There it is wisedome to be somewhat deceived: Though it be not my theame to speak of the duties to be rendred to our several relati∣ons,

yet because I seeke the contentment of mind, I cannot chuse but say that of all civill and natu∣ral duties none is so contenting to him that pay∣eth it, as the duty payd to Parents. Herein Epa∣mimondas Judged his victories most fortunate unto him that he had obtained them in his Fa∣thers life time who did much rejoyce at them.

To other relations we must also pay their pro∣per duty. Of which wee must remember this general rule; That it is impossible to get content by them unlesse we do our duty towards them. For that content must not be expected from them but from ourselves. The content that one takes with a deare Wife, a good Brother, and a well chosen Friend, is more that which he giveth then that which he receiveth. It lyeth in the testimo∣ny of his conscience that he hath rendred to them the true offices of love.

Without prejudice to those duties, we may and ought impartially to consider their inclina∣tions and abilities, and what may be expected of them. In those relations which come by choyce, as of a Husband Wife and friend, the judgement must precede the affection, to finde what is fit for us before we fixe upon it: But in relations of Kindred made by nature without us, the affection must go before and the judgement must follow; that we may know them so well, that though we love them, we trust them pro∣portionably to their honesty and capacity, and no more.

In this point the vulgar sort making many grosse mistaks. For it is an ordinary but an evill expressi∣on, I would trust him as mine owne Brother. Yet most knaves have Brothers, who should do very un∣wisely to trust them. The style of Merchants sel∣ling their ware is more ingemous, when they pro∣mise to a Chapman to use him as if he were their Brother, for they would not scruple to cozen their Brother. And truly hence the word of cozening had its Origine, because it is usual to make use of the bond of Kindred to be trusted enough to deceive enough.

For counsel and conversation we much choose the wisest and worthiest rather then the nearest in blood: But when there is occasion to give, or need to seeke help; we must runne to the neer∣est in blood rather then to the worthyest, if they be but honest. So much we must deferre to the choyce of Nature, that if there be any vertue in them, though but small, we be neerer to them in affection then blood. Solomon saith that a Bro∣ther is borne for adversity, Prov. 17.17. because other friendships by differences, intervening of parties, interesses, and Opinions, are subject to coole and untie, but among Brethren those diffe∣rences are overcome by the strength of nature; and in adversity either good nature or feare of blame makes Brothers give real help to Bro∣thers.

Wife and Children are the strongest trials of a

magnanimous spirit, for they make a mans heart tender, and in the pinches of adversity make him descend to ungenerous shifts. He that hath none shal have lesse delight & lesse sorrow.

Yet must we acknowledge that a mariage wel sorted betweene two persons of merit is of all worldly felicities the greatest.

Of children expect noe good but the satisfacti∣on to have done them good, and to see them doe wel for them-selves. For in this relation the nature of beneficence is to descend, seldom to remount.

Nothing is more pretious among humane things, then a vertuous loving freind, kinne or no kinne. And if he be one story above us in nobility and vertue, he is better then lower. E∣quality indeed is requisit in friendship, but friend ship it selfe worketh that equality where it is not; And there is need of it, for it is impossible to find two friends in the world altogether equal in al respects.

The price of friendship is according to the price of the person, whom therefore we must study to know wel, that we may love no person above or under his right value. A reasonable benevolence of a man of great merit is more obliging then the ardent affection of an Idiot; From the former you may receive instruction honour and content; From the second importunity, and the disgrace to be paired with a man of no worth: Such a

friendship will end in a breach, and so in repen∣tance.

Whether friendships be knit by nature or by choyce, that we may not expect of them a content beyond their nature, we must remember that our freinds are men, whose love may, and whose life must faile. The use of them we may have, not the possession. The best and most powerfull freinds are weake reeds, which we must not leane upon with all our weight, lest they breake in our hand, and we take a sore fall. Thus saith the Lord, Cursed is the man that trusteth in man and mak∣eth flesh his arme Jer. 17.5. As this is a sentence given by God against them that put their confi∣dence in man, it is also a natural consequence of the nature of the fault: For puting our confidence in man is going out of our selues: It is going out of God: It is making men Gods, for unto God only is that homage due of an absolute and total confidence. Noe wonder that God thereby is moved to jealousy.

To that evill, Pagan Philosophers give a re∣medy little better then the disease, which is, To put confidence in ourselves. This being a most erroneous Doctrine is nevertheless halfe the way to the truth: for they had very well observed, that a wise wan must not depend from another but retire within himselfe, where all the good and evill of a man lyeth. But while they en∣joyne a man to retire within himselfe they leave

out the maine precept proper to a higher School then theirs, that a man should seek God within himselfe; and to find God in his breast, that he should invite and then entertaine him there, by a pure service, a sincere love, & an entire cōfidence.

Many, by much good Kindred, & many Friends and relations, become lesse vertuous and indu∣strious; getting the ill habit of the Italian Signo∣ra's who walking in the streets beare more upon the armes of their supporters on both sides, then upon their owne legs. They have need to be sent from home to learne to stand alone without a Nurse to hold them. None can be owner of any measure of stedfastnesse and content that makes all his support and satisfaction to depend of his neighbours. That man hath more content in the world, who having confined his desire to few things, troubleth also but few persons; and is desirous of Friends to do them, not to re∣ceive of them good offices, regarding their vertue more then their support.

When we have got good Friends, we must be prepared to lose them. Death separateth Friends, and disolveth Mariages. When that happens, wee must remember without trouble or amazement that those persons so deare to us were mortal, but indeed that should have bin remembred before. A Philosopher visiting his neighbour who was weeping bitterly for the death of his Wife, left him presently, saying

aloud with great contempt, O great fool! did he not know before, that he had married a wo∣man not a goddesse? After we have condemned that cruel incivility, yet must we acknowledge that it is a folly to lament for that which we knew before to be unavoydable. Yet after all reasons, when love hath bin very deare, the se∣paration cannot but be very sad. Teares may be permitted, not commanded to fall. And after the duty payd of a mournful Adieu to the belo∣ved person, we must remember upon what terms and condition we hold of God that which wee love best, even to leave it at any time when God redemands it. And if besides we have good ground to hope, that the person departed is re∣ceived into peace and glory, we must praise God for it; which we can hardly do, as long as our obstinate mourning repines against his will. La∣menting for those that are well is ignorance, or envy, or selfe love. If we would not rejoyce when they were in affliction, why should we af∣flict our selves when they are in joy?

It is some recompence for the death of our deare Friends, that our enemyes are mortal as well as they. A wise man will consider his ene∣myes as rods in Gods hand, and minde the hand rather then the rod. To destroy our enemies when they are in our power is a childish folly, for so will Children burne their Mothers rod, as though there were no more rods in the world.

Our enemies oftentimes do us more good then our friends, for the support of our friends makes us carelesse, but the opposition of our enemies makes us wary and industrious. They make us strong and safe, for they make us flye to God.

In nothing wisedome is more seene then in judging of an adversary. A great serenity is re∣quisite, that feare make us not think him more dangerous then he is, and that pride make us not despise him, blinding our eyes not to see the good and evil that is in him, and what harme he may do us. It is a common and useful maxime for the conduct and tranquillity of mans life, that there are few great freinds, and no little ene∣myes.

When enemies are reconcileable, all things past must bee taken to the best by charitable interpretation. When there is no possibility of reconciliation, al things to come must be taken to the worst; both to strengthen us with resolution within, and to encounter the evill without by prudence and vigorous wayes. In the reconcile∣ment we must pardon freely, receive ill excuses, and if there be an offence which cannot be excu∣sed, never mention it. The remedy of injuries is oblivion.

If an enemy can neither be mitigated by cha∣rity, nor overcome by strength, nor avoyded by prudence, there remaineth still unto the wise Christian an intrenchment, out of which he can∣not

be forced, which is a good conscience, and the peace of God in it. These he must cherish and keep fast, not onely as his last intrenchment, but his onely possession, and the strong hold on∣ly worth keeping: It is impregnable as long as faith and love are the Garrison.

CHAP. XVI Of Death.

IT is the subject of which Seneca speakes most, and of which there was least for him to speak; for being doubtfull whether Death destroyed the soul or released it, Mors nos aut consumit aut e∣mittit; and being more inclined to the first Opi∣nion, it was better for him neither to speake nor to think of it. But what! others of his rank that had reasoned before him about the immortality of the soul had quitted themselves so meanely of that task, that out of their labours in that field, he could not reape any satisfaction of his doubt. This is the grand priviledge of the Christian that he seeth life through Death, and that the last li∣mit of Nature is the date of his franchising, and the gate of his felicity and glory. Death that moweth downe all the hopes of this world per∣fecteth Christian hope.

Death is the separation of body and soul: It is the returne of these two parts of man so different to their several principles. Eccles. 12.4. Then the

dust returneth to the earth as it was, and the spirit re∣turneth unto God that gave it: Who disposeth of it either in mercy or justice. Death is the last Act of the Comedy of this world. To every one Death is the end of the world in his own respect. In one sense it is against nature, because it destroyes the particular being: In another it is according to nature, for it is no lesse natural to dye then to live. Yea Death is a consequence of life, we must dye because we live; and we dye, not be∣cause we are fick and wounded, but because we are animals borne under that Law.

Wherefore considering Death in the natural way, as Charron doth; I approove what he saith that we must expect Death in a steady posture, for it is the terme of nature which continually drawes neerer and neerer. But I cannot approove that which he adds, that wee must fight against Death. Why should we fight against it seeing we cannot ward its blowes? It is more unreasonable then if he had said that we must fight against the raine & the winde, for wee may get a shelter from these, none from that: Wherefore as when it raines wee must let it raine, so when Death is coming (and it comes alwayes) wee need but let it come, not thinking it more strange to live then to dye. In stead of fighting against Death, wee must ac∣quaint our selves with it. Indeed they that feare Death, must fight against that feare.

Of them that feare Death there are two sorts.

Some feare it for its owne sake: Some for that which comes after. The former which are more in number, that love the present world, and can∣not fixe their thoughts upon that which is to come, imagin, that when they dye they lose all. A great folly! They cannot lose that which is none of theirs. They have the use of the world only til their Lease be out. Death is the great proofe of that fundamentall Maxime, which I so often urge, and no oftner then I need; That the things that are out of the disposition of our will are none of ours; and such are riches, honours, our body, and life it selfe. To them that are so farre mistaken as to thinke themselves owners of these things, death is an undoing; not to them that acknowledge themselves tenants at will, and look continually to be called out of their te∣nement. The goods of the world are held by turnes: When you have enjoyed them a while you must give place to others. Make your suc∣cessours case your owne. How should yee like it, if a certaine number of men should be privi∣ledged to monopolize to themselves the goods of all the world for ever, to the perpetuall exclusion of all others?

This reasoning belongs to few persons, for it presupposeth plenty and prosperity. But how few have plenty? and of those few againe, how few have prosperity with it? One would thinke that distressed persons have no need of comfort

against death. Yet they that have the greatest sorrowes in the world, many times are the most unwilling to leave it. But certainly, if life be evill, it is good to go out of it. All men being born un∣der the necessity of suffering, and misery being universall in all conditions; Death which ends all misery of life, is the greatest benefit of Nature. Blessed be God, that there is no temporal misery so great but hath an end.

Take me a man that hath nothing but debts, that liveth meerely by his shifts and tricks, that hath the stone in the bladder and ten suits in Law, that flyeth from the Sergeants to his house, and then flyeth out of his house relanced by the scold∣ing of his perverse wife. If in that flight he be suddainly killed in the street by the fall of a tyle or the overturning of a Cart, that happy misfor∣tune delivereth him from all other misfortunes. The Sergeants overtake him and let him are All attachments and Subpoenas against him are vacated. Hee is no more troubled where to get his dinner. His debts breake not his perpetuall sleep. He is thoroughly healed of the stone; and his wife, now desperaetly crying because she see∣eth him insensible for ever and unmoved at her noise. Certainly Death is a shelter against all in∣••uries. Death puts an end to endlesse evills. It is the rest after a continual toyle. It is the cure of the sick, and the liberty of the slave. So Job descri∣beth that quiet state. Job. 3.7. There the wicked

cease from troubling, and there the weary be at rest. There the prisoners rest together, they heare not the voyce of the oppressor: The small and great are there, and the servant is free from his Master. It is a great folly to feare that which cannot be avoyded, but it is a greater to feare that which is to be desired. When we have considered the evills of life, those that we do and those that we suffer, after that to feare Death what is it else but to be affraid of our rest and deliverance? And what greater harme can one wish to him that will not dye, but that he may live alwayes, and be guilty and mi∣serable for ever.

If it be for the paine that we feare Death, for that reason wee ought rather to feare life, for the paines of life are farre more sensible then the paines of Death; if in Death there is any paine; of which I see no great likelyhood. For why should we imagine the revulsion of the soul from the body to be very painful, it being knowne that the vital parts, as the heart and the liver, have little or no sense: No more sense hath the substance of the braines though the source of the senses; for the head-ach is in the tuniques. When the braines is benummed and weakened, the sense of paine is weaker over all the body. And generally when strength decreaseth, paine decreaseth together. Hence it is that most of them that are sick to Death, when they draw neere their end, feele themselves very much amen∣ded.

That state is called by the Italians il megli∣oramento della morte.

The decay of senses in that extremity is a fence against the troublesome diligence, talke, & cries, more troublesome then Death, wherewith dy∣ing persons are commonly persecuted. But as a man upon the point of death is too weake to de∣fend himselfe against all that persecution, he is too weak also to feele it much.

Then, all suffocation is without paine, & that is the most ordinary end of life. In the most violent death, paine is tolerable because it is short, and because it is the last. It is a storme that wracks us, but casts us upon the haven.

To that haven we must looke continually, and there cast anchor betimes by a holy hope, concei∣ving Death not so much a parting as an arrival; for unto well disposed soules it is the haven of Salvation.

The feare of that which comes after death, makes some mens lives bitter, and through feare of dying after Death they have already eternall death in their Conscience. They have eyes to see Hell open gaping for them, but they have none to see the way to avoid it. In others, that feare is more moderate, and is an ill cause work∣ing a good effect, inducing or rather driving them to seeke, and then to embrace the grace and peace that God offers unto them in Jesus Christ, and together to do good workes which are the

way to the Kingdome of heaven. A man cannot afeare God too much, but he may be too deeply afraid of his Justice; And the feare of that death after death must be swallowed up by the faith in Jesus Christ who by his death hath delivered them who through feare of death were all their life subject un∣to bondage. Heb. 2.15. He hath made death the gate of life and glory, to all that trust in him and doe good. Godly men will not feare death; for the sting of it is pluckt off by Christ. It is the terrour of evill consciences, but the joy of the good. It is this pleasant meditation that sweetneth their ad∣versities and makes them joy, Our light affliction which is but for a moment worketh for us a farre more exceeding and eternal weight of glory; 2 Cor. 4.17. The troubles of life are soone ended by death; and after death comes a life without trouble, and a glory without end. Men may deprive us of life, but they cannot deprive us of death; which is our deliverance.

The same meditation will make us relish pro∣sperity when God sends it; for none can enjoy the goods of this life with delight but he that is prepared before to leave them. Then are they delightfull when they are possest without care, and without, that which makes prosperity bitter, the feare to lose them. Whether I have little or much let me allwayes say, Praised bee God for his temporal gifts. Here is more then I need to live and dye well. But these are not the

goods that he promist me, and to which he calls me by by his Gospel.

O when shall that day come, when I shall be sa∣tisfied with the goodnesse of his house even of his holy Temple. Psal. 65.4. My desire is to depart and to be with Christ. Phil. 1.23.

The imprisonment of our immortal Soul of heavenly nature, in a body cosingerman to the beast, where it lyeth heavy, drowzy and mired in the flesh, ought to make us think that a hap∣py day, when we shall be awake, quickned, and set at liberty. Children in the womb sleep con∣tinually: Men (if you take their whole age to∣gether) sleep well nigh halfe their time. But after death, the spirit which is the true man, hath sha∣ken off all his sleepinesse: The faithfull soul is no more in darknesse. She receives light no more at two little loope-holes. She is all eye in the pre∣sence of God, who is all Light. She is free, holy, joyfull, all vertue, and all love, and all glo∣ry; for seeing God, and being seene by him, she is changed into the same image; And to that blessed state death is the way. Who so knoweth so much of the nature of death, & yet feares it as a terrible evill, sheweth that he is very farre within ano∣ther death, which is the death of sinne, and that he hath more flesh then spirit, that is, more of the beast then man.

CHAP. XVII. Of the Interiour of Man.

FRom that which is altogether without us and out of our power, and may be taken from us by others or by death; Let us turne our eyes within us, upon that which is more ours, our soule and her endowments, naturall and acquisite, either by study or infusion. Not to ex∣amine very exactly their nature, but enough to judge of their price, and what satisfaction may be expected of them.

Because I have restrained solid content to those things that are within us, and which cannot be taken from us, I acknowledge my selfe very much perplexed about some things within us, and doubtful whether they be ours or no? seeing that many things within us may be taken from us without our consent, and therefore are not ours absolutly. Is there any thing that seemes more ours then the illumination and dexterity of our wit, and our learning, and prudence got by study and experience? for those were the goods which that Philosopher owned with so much oftentati∣on, who carrying nothing but himself out of a Town, taken by storme and pillaged, answer∣ed the victor that gave him leave to carry our all his goods, I carry out all my goods along with mee. But how could he make good that possessi∣on,

there being no Wit so clear, no Philosophy so sublime, but a blow upon the head, or a hot feaver may overturne it? Epictetus accounteth nothing ours but our opinions, our desires, and our actions, because these alone are in our power. But in an understanding maimed by Phrensy, that power is lost. It is true, it is not the soule but the Organe that is vitiated: But howsoever you cannot dis∣pose of your soul when that organ is out of tune.

Here to say that death will set the soul at li∣berty and then the spirit shall enjoy himselfe, and all his ornaments, is to bring a higher questi∣on to resolve a lesser. For there is no doubt but that the spirit loosed from the matter will reco∣ver that liberty of his faculties which was ob∣structed by materiall causes; but it is a point of singular difficulty to judge, whether he shall re∣taine all the skill hee had got in this life.

As for mechanicall Arts, altogether tyed to the matter, it is not likely that the spirit will retaine that low skill, when he liveth separat from the matter. But as for higher intellectuall sciences, it seemes very unreasonable that a Spi∣rit polisht & sublimated by long study, and stored with a great treasure of knowledge, should lose all in an instant by the death of the body, and that the soul of a great Naturalist, as my Lord of St. Albans, be left as bare of learning and acqui∣site capacity as the soul of a skavenger. And when the soul not only is made learned but

good also by learning, were it not lamentable that death should have the power to make it worse? Neither would holy writ presse this command upon us with so much earnestnes, Get wisdome, get understanding, forget it not, if wisedom were an acquisition that the soul must lose with the body.

The difficulty lyeth, in picking among the sci∣ences those that will be sure to stick unto the se∣parat soul; It is much to be feared that those sci∣ences which cost most labour will bee sooner lost, and will goe out together with the lampe of life. For since the dead have no share in al that is done under the sun, it is like that great students who have fraught their memory with histories, both antient & moderne, shall lose, when they dye, the remembrance of so many things that are done un∣der the Sunne: By the same reason Lawyers Lin∣guists & Professors of Sciences and arts depending upon humane commerce, should leave all that learning behind them. But I doubt whether the contemplators of Gods works, as the Naturalists, shall lose their learning when they dye seeing that it is the duty, & the perfectioning of the ra∣tionall creature to know the wisedome and the power of the Creator, in his wonderfull workes. And I am inclined to beleeve that those things that are done under the Sunne in which the dead have no share, are the actions & businesses of men, not the workes of God; but that Naturalists shall

learne the science of Gods workes in a higher and transcendent way. Also that Astrologers shall need other principles to know heaven; to which their forbidden curiosity to foretell hu∣mane events out of the Starres, wil rather be a barre then a furtherance Nec quicquam tibi prodest aerias tentâsse domos morituro.

Among all the spirituall ornaments there is one which we may be confident to keep for ever when we have it once really, & therefore it is pro∣perly our owne. That rich and permanent Orna∣ment is heavenly wisedome, of which Solomon saith Prov. 3.16. Length of dayes is in her right hand, and in her left hand riches and honour: Her wayes are wayes of pleasantnesse, and all her pathes are peace. She is a tree of life to them that lay hold upon her, and happy is every one that retaines her. That wise∣dome consisteth in knowing, loving, and obey∣ing God and trusting upon him. It is good study∣ing that wisedome, that giveth eternal felicity and glory.

We finde but two things in the interiour of man, which we may be sure not to lose by death: The one is the substance and intellectual faculties of our soul of immortal nature, which cannot be so offuscated with the mists of the flesh but she is cleared of them, when she is freed of the body; The other is that supernatural wisedome, when it pleaseth God to endow our minde with it, even his knowledge, his love, conformity of our will

unto his will, and faith in his promises. Of other ornaments of the soul we cannot certainly say, what we shall keep and what we shall lose. It will be therefore wifely and thriftily done to la∣bour for that which wee may be sure to keep when we have got it; and of which, death, that takes away all other possessions, shall deliver us a full possession. It is a great discouragment to them that stretch their braines upon Algebra and Logarithmes and arguments in Frisesmo, as it were upon tenterhookes, to think that all that learning so hard to get, will bee lost in a moment. Who would take the paines to load himselfe with it, seeing that it gives nothing but vexation in this life, and leaves in the soul nei∣ther benefit nor trace after death; unlesse it be the guilt sticking to the soul to have mispent the strength of wit upon negotious vanities, and neg∣lected good studies.

Yet am I not so austere and peremptory as to despise all the spiritual endowments which we are not sure to keep after death. For many of them are such, that as we are not certaine to keep them after death, so we are not certaine to lose them by death. Many of those perish∣able ornaments are neverthelesse good gifts of God. But our minde must be so disposed that in these several ornaments of the soul we seek a con¦tentment proportionate to the assurance that we have of their abiding with us. We are most cer∣taine

that the knowledge and love of God are permanent possessions, and impart to their pos∣sessor their permanency; there then let us apply our study and place our permanent content. We are not certaine whether the other spiritual or∣naments will continue with us after this life. Then let us not bestow our principal study about those things which we are not sure to keepe; nor place our chiefe content in them. Let the Soul lose none of her advantages, let her glory in her eter∣nall goods and there fixe herselfe: Let her re∣joyce also in those goods which she hath for a time, according to their just value, which must be measured by their use.

Before we consider the several ornaments of the soul more particularly, we must consider her substance and faculties. The Soul is immate∣riall and Spirituall bearing in her substance the image of her creator, and more yet in her facul∣ties, and naturall endowments, which before her fall were in an eminent degree of perfection: for to be made after the likeness of God includeth all per∣fection, in so much that this high expression, to be adequate unto man, hath need to be contracted to the proportion of a created nature.

Of that primitive perfection the traces are evident still, in that reasoning quicknesse, and universal capacity, that goeth through all things and compasseth all things, that remembreth things past, that provideth for things to come,

that inventeth, judgeth, ordereth, and brings forth ingenious and admirable workes. The prin∣cipal is that the soul is capable to know God, love him, & commune with him: A priviledge special to Angels & Souls of men above all creatures; as likewise they are the only creatures capable of permanency, which is a participation with Gods eternity, such as finite natures may admit.

Humility would not give us leave to conceive high enough of the price of our soul, but that the onely Sonne of God, God himselfe blessed for evermore, hath shewed the high account that he made of her; So high that he thought it worth his taking the like nature in the forme of a ser∣vant, and suffering death with the extremity of paine and ignominy, that he might recover and save her when she had lost herselfe.

The soul being of such an excellent nature, and after her decayes by sinne restored to her pri∣mitive excellency by grace, is a rich possession to herselfe, when God gives us the wisedome to obey that evangelical and truly Philosophical precept of Christ, Luk. 21.19. In your patience possesse your soules; not giving leave to the impati∣ence of cupidity and feare to steal that possession from us. But the soul never hath the right pos∣session of herselfe, till she have the possession of God. To possesse God and to possesse our soul is all one, for the spirit cannot be free, nor happy, nor his owne, but by his union with his original

Being, whereby God and the soul have a mutual possession one of another; A blessed union begun in earth by grace, and perfected in heaven by glory. The contrary state which is to be separa∣ted from God is the perdition of a man, and the extremity of bondage, want, and misery.

Here to undertake an exact anatomy of the soul would be besides my theame, and more yet beyond the possibility of right performance. For as the eye cannot see it selfe, the spirit of man cannot looke into his owne composure; and in all the Philosophical discourses upon that subject, I finde nothing but conjectural. It is more profi∣table and easy to learne the right government then the natural structure of the soul. It is part of the knowledge of the soul, to know that she cannot be known; and that her incomprehen∣siblenesse is a lineament of her Creatours image.

The spirit of man is more quick and stirring then clearsighted, and many times is like a Faul∣con that flyeth up with his hood on. He hath a good wing, but he is hood winkt. How many wits take a high flight and know not where they be? And where shall you finde one that under∣stands thoroughly the matter that he speakes of? The Authors that write of all animals and plants, understand not the nature of a caterpiller or a lettice, how then shall they understand the na∣ture of intellectual substances? Certainly all our Philosophy of the nature of things is but seek∣ing

and guessing. Job 8.9. We are but of yesterday and know nothing, because our dayes upon earth are as a shadow, saith Bildad. Our life is a shadow be∣cause it is transitory, but more because it is dark. The Earth where we live is inwrapt in clouds, and our soul in ignorance as long as we live upon earth; and yet we are as resolute and affirma∣tive in our Opinions as if we had pitcht our Ta∣bernacle in the Sunne: We could not speak with more authority if we were possest, as God is, with the original Idea's and the very being of things. A wise and moderate man will not be carryed away by that presumption, neither of others nor his owne, but with humility will ac∣knowledge the blind and rash nature of the spi∣rit of man, that knoweth nothing and determines of all things, that undertakes all and brings no∣thing to an end. Pure truth and full wisedome lyeth in the bosome of the Father of lights: Our soules are little, unclean, narrowmouthed vessels, uncapable to receive it but by smal drops, & that little we receive we taint by our uncleanness.

In our soul we conceive two intellectual facul∣ties, the understanding and the will; In the un∣derstanding three, imagination, memory, and judgement. Imagination is that which makes all the noise, entreth every where, inventeth, reasoneth, and is alwayes in action. To it we owe all the ingenious productions of eloquence and subtility. Its the inventor of arts and sciences, the

learner and polisher of inventions. It is of great service, and gives great content, being well ma∣naged, and employed in good things. The office of imagination being to transforme itselfe into the things that it takes for objects: it is transfor∣med into God when it applyes itselfe unto God, and is transformed into the Father of all evil, when it applyeth itselfe unto evill.

Memory is the Exchequer of the soul, keeping that which the imagination and judgement com∣mit to her trust. In the primitive ages when the world stood in need of inventions, a quick & fer∣tile imagination made able men. But in these last ages, a well furnisht memory makes a rich and a full mind; so she be not destitute of the two other faculties. In vaine doth the imagination invent and collect industriously, and the judge∣ment prudently determine, if the memory be not a faithful keeper of the inventions of the one, and the determinations of the other, and together a ready prompter at need of that she hath in keep∣ing. It is memory that keepes this good treasure of which the Lord Jesus speakes, Matth. 12.35. A good man out of the good treasure of the heart bringeth forth good things. But she keepes evill as well as good, and often more firmly then good. An evill man out of the evill treasure, of his heart brings forth evill things. Of her nature she is in∣different to good and evill, as a paper to write what one will upon and a chest that will keep,

any thing. According to the things that are put into that chest, it is either a cabinet that keepes jewels, or a sink that receives ordure. If we will have the right use & content of our memory, we must furnish her with good and holy things, that she may alwayes prompt matter to our minde, to commune with God, & to direct and comfort ourselves. For when she is fraught with evill and vaine matter, she will thrust evill and vaine things upon us, when the occasion and our owne minde calls for things good and serious, as an idle servant that brings his Master a pare of cards when he calls for a Book of devotion. Many times we heartily desire that we could forget certain things, which our memory importunately sets before us on all occasions.

Judgement is the noblest part of the soul, the Chiefe Justice determining what the imaginati∣on discusseth, and the memory registreth. Ima∣gination makes witty men, memory learned men, but the Judgement makes wise men. The wise man is he that judgeth aright, not he that discourseth finely, nor he that learneth well by heart.

For the strength of the several faculties the natural temper of the braines doth much, but study perfecteth them, the judgement especially; for some have made themselves a judgement by use and experience, who had none in a manner by nature.

Of these three faculties, the Imagination, which is the seat of wit and invention, hath a neerer kindred with judgement, then memory with either; for wit will ripen into judgement, & in distracted braines both are imbezelled toge∣ther, while memory remaines entire. It is ordi∣nary to see dull fooles have a great memory. And it is credible that the largenesse of the memory (especially when it is streacht with overmuch learning) lesseneth the two other faculties; as in three roomes of a floore, if the one be made very wide the two others must of necessity be little.

The Judgement calls all things before his tri∣bunal, and examines them upon two points, whe∣ther they be true or false, good or evill. There he stayes, when the subject requires contemplati∣on onely; but when it requires action, then the determination of the judgement makes the will to move towards that which the judge∣ment hath pronounced to be true and good; for to move towards that which we judge to be false or evill, we cannot. For although our will fol∣low many times false and evill objects, the judg∣ment alwayes considers them to be true and good, in some respect; Neither would our will so much as bend towards any object, unlesse our judgement did before warrant it to us, true and good. Truth and falshood have their springs without us: But moral good and evill, as farre as they concerne our innocency and guiltinesse,

have their springs within us; and both spring from our judgment, to which we must atribute what is ascribed to the heart by Solomon (in whose tongue one word signifies both.) Prov. 4.23. Keepe thy heart with all diligence, for out of it are the issues of life.

Herein then lyeth wisedome, the worker and keeper of contentment of mind, to give a sound judgement of objects, and thereupon to give good counsell to the will for embracing that which is good, and resisting all oppositions to it by the armes of righteousnesse on the right hand and on the left, so that the soul, as a well balasted and a well guided ship, cuts her way through the waves, and makes use of all winds to steere her course to the haven of salvation and Gods glory, possessing calme within, among the stormes a∣broad. But for that wise and blessed temper, there is need of a higher wisedome then the strength of Nature and the precepts of Philoso∣phy can afford to the judgement.

By the Judgement, men are wise; but by the Will, they are good. Wisedome and goodnesse alwayes go together; when they go asunder, they are not worthy of their name. For that man is not wise that instructeth not himselfe to be good; and that man is not good that doeth good actions, not out of wisedome and know∣ledge, but out of superstition or custome.

The chiefe vertue of the understanding is the

knowledge of God, and the chiefe vertue of the Will is his Love. These two vertues comprehend all others, and help one another. They joynt∣ly give tranquillity and content to the soul, when we exercise our selves in the knowledge of God, because we love him; and when we love and o∣bey him, because we know him to be most good, most wise, most perfect, and most worthy to be loved and obeyed.

The right bent and true perfection of the will man is an entire concurrence with the will of God in all things, both to execute the will of his command and undergo the will of his decree; in both walking so unanimously with God, that man have no other will but God's. He that hath thus transformed his will into Gods will, possess∣eth a quiet and contented mind. For when we will alwayes what God willes, our will is al∣wayes done.

The will is the reasonable appetite of the soul; besides which there is in the soul joyned with the body an appetite halfe reasonable and halfe seusitive which comprehends all the Passions, some of which have more of the reasonable, some more of the sensitive part, according as they stick more or lesse to the matter. They must be the subject of the next Book.

CHAP. XVIII. Of the Ornaments acquisite of the understanding.

WE are so blind at home that we know less our natural then our acquisite goods: Yea without acquisite goods we are little sensible of the natural goods of the soul. The natural Or∣naments of the Understanding, quicknesse of wit, fidelity of memory, and solidity of judge∣ment are seene onely in the acquisitions made by study & use, for they that trade not with that pa∣trimony of Nature, lose most part of it and differ little from beasts. The acquisitions of the un∣derstanding may be reduced to these two heads; Science, and Prudence.

Science is the husbandry of the soul, a field whose vertue is never knowne till it be husband∣ed. Prudence is above Science in dignity, but Science precedeth Prudence in order, as the meanes go before the end.

This position that prudence is the end, and sciences are the meanes, gives the true light to choose those sciences that deserve a ferious study. Sciences are multiplyed to a great number, and growne to a goodly perfection in this Westerne world. They have their several uses and beau∣ties. But because it is impossible to entertaine them all, the prentiship being long and life short, those especially should be followed which are

wayes to true Prudence, teaching men to live well and dye well. It is the Learning, so much recommended by Solomon, Prov. 4.13. Take fast hold of instruction, let her not go, keepe her, for she is thy life.

Of those that court learning some do it out of necessity, to get their living; They choose scien∣ces as they do their wives, those that are fittest for housekeeping. Others that have wealth and leisure, choose sciences as they choose their Mi∣stresses, the fairest and most recreative. But of sciences as of women, the most recreative are not alwayes the most honest; as all sciences that are buzy about predictions for the future.

Of humane sciences the most part hath more luster then price: Learning in tongues is a fine Ornament, and of great use, yet not answerable to the labour and time that it stands in. When we have learned to name heaven and earth five or sixe several wayes, we know their natures never the better for that. A wiseman will rather seeke the use then the luster of languages. And for his owne use he ought not to deny to himselfe that innocent delight to be able to relish the elo∣quence of the tongues, which with great reason have the vogue among the learned; there being nothing that doth more sweeten and polish the mind then good matter clad with a style simple and elegant, like a smooth and well coloured skin laid over strong brawny limbes.

There are studies that have little luster and lesse price, and yet by their severe garbe go for wise and serious. Such is Schoole-philosophy which for three or foure hundred yeares hath reigned in our Universities, and roughcast Di∣vinity with barbarous termes and crabbed di∣stinctions. For as if Schoolemen would outdoe Pilates souldiers that crowned the head of our Saviour with thornes, they have habited his do∣ctrine with thornes all about from top to toe, so thick that themselves can hardly see the day thorough. The writings of Schoolemen are like Labyrinths, which in a little peece of ground have a very long and intricate way. For the learning of those ages being confined within a short com∣passe, those resolute and irrefragable Doctors (for so they style one another) not being able to travel farre, and yet eager of going, did but turne and wind within their narrow limits, and crost a thousand times the same way. It is scarce cre∣dible how little there is to learne in all that huge masse of harsh subtility. It is true indeed that in all studies of men there is vanity, and the lear∣ning that succeeded that rusty learning hath a merryer vanity. But since it is so, that there is vainity in both, give me rather a faire and smooth vanity then a grimme and rugged. Si nugae, saltem sint canorae. Serious fooles are the most trouble∣some.

Arts that regard the civil good are of so much

price as they bring utility to the publique, and benefit to the professors. Every one must get skill enough in his art to be usefull for society, and to live in the world. But there are some sci∣ences, which, though especially profest by some, belong alike to all, and regard the profession of man as he is man. For God hath created and pla∣ced us in the world to learne three things; How the world is made, What the world doeth, And what we must do in the world. How the world is made, we learne by natural Philosophy, the Sphere and Cosmography. What the world doth, we learne by Histories. What must be done in the world we learne out of Ethicks and Poli∣tiques and especially out of Divinity. These Sci∣ences are beneficial and delightful; and to be al∣together ignorant of these, is to live in the world not knowing for what. A prudent man will pick out of these what is most fit for his principal end, which is to glorifie God, informe his judgement, order his life, and content himselfe.

All the Learning that we lay up must end in Prudence. Wherefore those studies that forme the judgement, must be more carefully tended then those that exercise the imagination. Mathe∣matical sciences are admirable, but this they have, that they take off the mind from matters of judgement and prudence, and fixe it altogether upon quantity and material proportion.

Prudence is the guide of all vertues, and mar∣cheth

before to give them light. Yea she com∣prehends them all, for nothing is ill done but for want of prudence, and the great prudence is to be religious, just, constant, and temperate. Nullum numen abest, si sit prudentia. Solomon gi∣ving such an expresse charge and so often re∣peated, to get prudence, thereby recom∣mendeth all vertues, and above all, the feare of God which is the beginning of wisdome. Prudence is that eye which the Lord Jesus calls the light of the body, Matth. 6.22. that is the con∣duct of life. And whereas virtues consist in keep∣ing a just temper betweene extreames, they owe that skill unto prudence, for unto it belongs the ordering and disposition of things. Prudence sheweth what is requisite for every vertue. Pru∣dence governs all the free actions of life.

My end here is to know the price, not to give the rules of prudence: But those Authors cannot be excused, that have set out treatises of pru∣dence, without giving any counsel for the directi∣on of a mans behaviour in publique or private occurrences, but onely definitions expounded at large, divisions, and disputations whether it be a vertue moral or intellectual, contemplative or practical, Whether the actus elicitus of prudence be to know or to will, and what difference there is betweene acting and doing. Goodly instructi∣ons to forme a Councellor of State, and to un∣derprop a tottering Commonwealth. Could

these Doctors have done worse for themselves, if they had undertaken to justifye the ordinary re∣proach against learning, that prudence lyeth out of the circuit of Schollership, and that it is incompatible with learning? This they justifye more yet, when they passe from contemplation to practise. For, in Councel, though but a meane corporation, tradesmen many times will speake more pertinently thet great Scholars.

Of this the fault lyeth not in Learning, which is the right way to Prudence, but in not choos∣ing the right learning for prudence, and apply∣ing ones mind to other things: For neither Tran∣scendents nor Modals, not Hesychius nor Suidas, nor Apogees nor Excentriques teach a man wisedome. It were a wonder if they that never learned wisedom, understood it: There are two wayes to get it, Science and Experience. These men have neither, that have spent all their study about Syl∣logisms or Horoscopes. But take me a Scholler that hath made prudence his study, and bent all his learning to that marke, seeking it first in Gods Book, the spring of all wisedome, then in the wri∣tings of wisemen both antient and late, and in history which is the Mistriss of life; Let him stu∣dy men and business, as well as Bookes. Let him converse with the wisest and best versed in the world, and consummate himselfe in experience. When such a man shall speake in a Councell of State among unlearned men, it will appeare how

rash and injurious that sentence is, that learn∣ing and prudence are incompatible; and how farre the learned go beyond the ignorant for deepe insight into businesses, and healing or pre∣venting publique evills.

Because we seek here the just price of things, we must not attribute too much unto Science and Prudence. These two together make a goodly match: By knowledge and and wisedome a man differeth from a beast. But both are subject unto vanity. For knowledge, take the verdict of two the most learned of all the Canonical writers, Solomon and St. Paul. The first will tell you He that increaseth knowledge, increaseth sorrow. Eccl. 1.18. The other, Knowledge puffeth up. 1 Cor 8.1. Sorrow & pride are the ordinary effects of Lear∣ning, but when it meets with a strong and meek spirit upheld with Gods grace. Pride will easi∣ly get into those that have some, but little learn∣ing; for it is a point of ignorance for one to think he is learned when he is not. But when we are advanced in learning, we learne that we know nothing, and discover the uncertainty of sciences; that they performe not what they promise, that new writers give the lye to the old, Eccl. 12.12. that of making many Bookes there is no end, and much study is a wearinesse of the flesh. A wise man that will reape from learning utility and content, must ex∣pect no more of it then it can afford. He will deale with learning as with money, he will not

be a servant to it, but make it his Servant. When he is past the drudgery of the Schoole, he will (if he can) make his study his pastime, not his taske.

Prudence is no lesse subject to vanity then Learning, but rather hath more uncertainty. For sciences have certain objects, since they consider universals, which are alwayes the same, what change soever happen in the particulars. But prudence, having no object but particular things casual and uncertaine, cannot have but an un∣certaine seat upon such an unstayed bottome, for though there be generall rules of prudence, they must continually be bowed and made longer or shorter according to the accidents and circum∣stances; which being every where different re∣quire also every where a different manner of con∣duct. After a wise deliberation & an industrions managing of a businesse, an unfortunate end ma∣ny times will follow. How oft hath the most mature prudence bin overcome by folly and pre∣cipitate rashnesse? Of which the principal cause is the provocation of Gods jealousy by humane wisedome, when it grows to presumption. Isa. 24.15. Woe unto them that seeke deep to hide their counsell from the Lord, and their workes are in the dark, and they say, Who seeth us? and who knowes us? For God who is called onely wise by St. Paul, Rom. 16.27. for which he will have him to be glori∣fyed for ever, is highly offended when any pre∣tends

to share in that title which is his onely, and takes a delight to blow upon projects made up with great art, to shew to the wise of the world that they are but fooles.

To judge wisely of the businesses of the world, we should see the wheels & inward motions of them, but they are hidden from us. We can hard∣ly pry into the counsels of men, how can we pe∣netrate into the Decrees of God, those great and secret motions lockt up in the closet of his wise providence? In the greatest revolution of our age, we are eyewitnesses how the wisest counsels of a party have alwayes turned to their ruine, and the faults of State on the contrary party have alwayes bin fortunate. To one side prudence and imprudence have bin alike pernicious. To the other prudence and imprudence have bin alike advantageous. Let us looke up to God whose wayes are not our wayes, and his thoughts are not our thoughts, and against whose will no strength and no counsel will hold. The future being to us a dark empty space where we see no∣thing, no wonder that humane prudence seldome hits right in her forecast for the future. The pru∣dent man hath as much advantage over the im∣prudent as one that hath good eyes over a blind∣man, but when both are in the darke one seeth no more then the other. Many future events are as dark to the wise, as to the unwise. And when wisedome is most cleare sighted, it can but

regulate the counsels, but cannot dispose of the events.

The wiseman hath this benefit of his wise∣dome, that if his counsels succeed well he can make good use of prosperity: And if his good counsels have an unhappy successe, either he de∣clines the blow, or gets a lenitive to it by pru∣dence and patience; or he makes advantage of it for some good; and which way soever the staffe fall, he never repents of a good counsell.

Of all the acquisite endowments of the under∣standing Prudence is the best, therefore beyond all comparison more precious then all the goods of body and fortune: But together let us acknow∣ledge that it hath a short sight, and a tottering bottome. Wherefore the great precept of wise∣dome, is, to mistrust our wisedome and repose ourselves upon Gods wisedome and love. Let our prudence depend altogether upon his provi∣dence.

It is a great abatement of the price of humane prudence that death cuts it off with the thred of life. Eccl. 2.17. This was a cause why Solomon hated life, even because the wiseman dyeth as the foole. Yet had he wisely pondred the matter before ver. 13. I saw that wisedome excelleth folly as farre as light excelleth darknesse: The wisemans eyes are in his head, but the foole walketh in darknesse: but I perceived also that one event happenth to them all. It is enough to disdaine the vanity of life, and of

human wisedome better then life, to see a great Statesman that made a Kingdom to flourish and the neighboring States to tremble, to be cut off in the midst of his high enterprises and deep coun∣sels, all which dye with him. Psal. 46.4. His breath goeth forth, he returneth to his earth, in that very day his thoughts perish. That plotting braines from whose resolution the fortune of an empire depended shall breed wormes and toades. And truly it should be unreasonable that this kind of prudence which hath no object but worldly and perishable, should remaine permanent. But it is very consonant to reason that a higher prudence which applyeth itselfe to permanent things, re∣maine permanent. It is that permanent wise∣dome which our Saviour recommends unto us, Luke 12.33. Provide yourselves baggs which waxe not old, a treasure in the heavens that faileth not. It is that wisedome which Solomon calls a tree of life to them that lay hold on her, because she lives after death, and makes the soul live for ever. Judge you of the price of these two sorts of wisedomes; the one that perisheth, and many times makes men perish; the other that endureth for ever, and will certainly make them that embrace her, eternally blessed.

CHAP. XIX. Of the acquisite Ornaments of the Will.

THe end of the instruction of the Understan∣ding is the ruling and ordering of the Will in a constant goodnesse, so much better then sci∣ence and prudence, as the end is better then the meanes; unlesse by prudence we understand that wisedome which is employed about mans duty to God, and comprehends all vertues; for as in God all vertues are but one, which is his Being; likewise when we take vertues in a divine sense one vertue comprehends many, as having some participation with the divine nature.

Commonly by vertue we understand upright∣nesse of the will, because without it the vertues of the understanding, science, intelligence, and prudence, deserve not to be called vertues, and the more able they are, the more pernicious.

Vertue of all acquisitions is the most precious; without it the goods of body and fortune become evills, serving only to make a man guilty and miserable; for then the goods of the body give the faculty, and the goods of fortune give the opportunity to do evill; but without them Ver∣tue alone is good, and fetcheth good even out of evill.

By vertue man is made like God who is the originall vertue. Vertue gives glory to God, uti∣lity

to the publique, tranquillity and joy to the conscience, reliefe to some, counsell to others, example to all. Vertue is respected of all, even of them that envy it. They that love not the re∣ality of vertue, yet study to get the name of it, and to put upon their false coyne the stamp of vertue. All the hypocrisie in the world is an homage that Vice payeth unto Vertue.

A vertuous man may be stript of his estate by his enemies, but of his vertue he cannot. Because he keepes it, he is alwayes rich. Vertue strength∣neth him in adversity, moderates him in prospe∣rity, guides him in society, entertaines him in his solitarinesse, adviseth him in his doubts, sup∣ports him in his weaknesse, keeps him company in his journeyes by sea and land. If his ship sink, vertue sinkes not; and he whether living or dy∣ing saveth it and himselfe. By vertue he feares neither life nor death, looking upon both with an equal eye, yet aspiring to depart and to be with Christ; but bearing patiently the delay of his departure, because he is already with Christ by a lively hope. Vertue steering the soule makes it take a streight and safe course to heaven, and there abides with him eternally, for vertue as well as glory is that treasure in heaven, where nei∣ther the moth nor the rust corrupt, and where theeves do not breake thorough and steale. Math. 6.

Philosophy considereth three vertues in the wil, Justice, Fortitude, and Temperance, excellent

vertues, the first especially, which in effect con∣taines the two others; for it is the right temper of the will, not drawne aside from the integrity of a good conscience, either by oppositions of ad∣versity against which fortitude stands fast, or by allurements of prosperity from which tempe∣rance witholds the appetite. Good conscience (of which we have spoken in the first Booke) is nothing else but justice.

For these vertues wherein mans duty and hap∣pinesse consisteth it were hard to find Elogies equal to their worth. But there is great diffe∣cence between the excellency of Vertue in it self, and such vertue as is found among men. The ex∣actest justice that man is capable of, is defective and infected with sinne. All our righteousnesses are as the defiled cloath. Wherefore the de∣scription of a just counterpoise of the will, never swarving either on the right hand or the left, ne∣ver shaken from his square cubus either by afflicti∣ons or temptations, is a fair character fit to set be∣fore our eyes, to imitate as neere as we can; as faire pictures, in the sight of breeding women: But truly such a perfect vertue subsisteth not in any subject under heaven. In this world to be just, is only to be somewhat lesse evill then others.

If a perfect Justice cannot be establisht in the private policy of a mans soul, it is not to be lookt for in publique Policies. Justice being pure in her original, becomes impure and maimed being

kneaded by the weak and uncleane hands of men Job 14.4. Who can bring a cleane thing out of an un∣cleane? Of this it were easy to give instances out of the formes of Justice, & out of the very Lawes in all States. But it is a point of justice to respect her in those hands to which divine providence hath intrusted her, and to adde strength to her weakenesse by our voluntary deference.

Man being weake in justice, cannot but be so in her appurtenances, fortitude and temperance. The highest point unto which human precepts endeavour to raise fortitude is to make patience a remedy to evills remediless. But how short the bravest men come of that remedy in their paines and griefes, daily experience sheweth it. The vulgar placeth the vertue of fortitude in striking and massacring, which is rather a barbarous in∣humanity; and if it be a vertue, tygers are more vertuous then men.

As for Temperance, her very name sounds weakenesse. For he that is not subject to be cor∣rupted by evill suggestions, hath no need of tem∣perance. That man is temperat that knoweth how to keepe himselfe from himselfe; who therefore is naturally evill, and prone to vicious excesses: Wherein men are inferiour to beasts, which are not tempted with covetuousnesse & desire of su∣perfluities, but keepe within the bounds of nature and necessity.

Where there is a compleat vertue, there is nei∣ther

fortitude nor temperance; Therefore these are not in God, who is the original vertue. He hath no need of fortitude, for he hath no danger to overcome; and no use of temperance, for he hath no affection that need to be restrained; whence it followes that man also when he is once brought to his perfection of vertue which is his full union with God, shall have neither fortitude nor temperance, as having no evill to oppose, and no ••upidity to represse. Justice is the onely vertue that outliveth the body, and lives eter∣nally with God; not that justice establisht in the Polities of the world, for in heaven there is nei∣ther selling nor contracting, which are the sub∣jects of communicative justice: And as for the distributive, which hath two offices, to recom∣pence vertue & to punish vice, humane justice ex∣erciseth but the last; recompence is accounted an act of grace, and is rare: Whereas Gods justice regardeth so much more reward then pu∣nishment, as a thousand is more then three or foure, as it is exprest in the precept against Idola∣try. Exod 20.5. and 6.

That justice of good Christians which outliv∣eth temporall life is the uprightnesse of their will, which in the passage of the soul to the high seat of perfection will be wonderfully mended and sublimated. While the spirit liveth in the flesh, though the will were never disturbed from its uprightnesse by the tumult of passions,

yet it could not be raised to a degree of upright∣nesse above the proportion of the illumination of of the understanding. Now the understanding is obscured in this world with a mist of errour, receiving but some few rayes of the Sun of righ∣teousnesse through a cloud.

I like very well the setting forth of a faire and compleat notion of Vertue, filling the soul with joy; which is not a chimera and a fiction, for every good soul must once be really brought to that perfection in his finall union with God, who is the soveraigne good of man, the originall per∣fection, and vertue in substance. But I wish to∣gether, that while we set before the eyes of men, a high character of a wise & vertuous man, com∣pleat & happy in himselfe, we put them in mind of the fickly condition of mans soul, as long as she dwels in the flesh, that none be deceived with those Idea's of imaginary perfection which Pa∣gan Philosophers ascribe to the wise man living according to nature.

To the Christian onely it becomes well to de∣scribe vertue in a perfect character, 2 Pet. 1.4. partaker of the divine nature, and though it be a∣bove his pitch, yet to aspire to it; for he knowes whom he hath beleeved, and where he may get a perfection exceeding abundantly above all that he askes or thinkes according to the power that worketh in him, Ephes. 3.20. yea so farre as to be filled with all the fullnesse of God. But in the mouth of

Philosophers that expect no perfection but from their own nature, nor a longer duration of their vertue then of their natural life (and of such men there are more in the world then one would think) those high expressions of the greatnesse and happinesse of a vertuous man are illegiti∣mate, unsuitable, and unbecoming; for either these characters are true, and then they were not made for them; or they are productions of a wild and phantasticall pride. Seneca describing his wise man saith, that he cannot be shaken with any thing and that he marcheth equal with God. Alas poore little man! Do but discharge a pistol at his eares, though charged with powder only, you shall see that stout champion, which march∣eth equal with God, mightily shaken and dis∣composed in his march. There needs but the sting of a tarantola to make him skip and dance, put his vertue out of tune, and turne all his Phi∣losophy upside downe. Another was saying virtute mea me involvo, I wrap my selfe about with my vertue, as if it had bin an armour cannon∣proofe and thunderbolt proofe. Though it had bin so, and impenetrable to temptation besides, yet it is not impenetrable to death, for these di∣sciples of nature onely, pretend not to extend the life of their vertue beyond the life of nature. To what purpose all those bravado's for a mortal vertue; that the wiseman is alwayes free, al∣wayes rich, alwayes happy, that he wants no∣thing

because he hath himselfe, that he is King of the universe and Master of fortune, that in all conditions he is safe, stedfast, and content, and finally that he is alwayes in health; but when he hath got a cold, as Horace jestingly addeth. This is stretching man beyond man. That wise∣man after al that flourish is a calamitous creature weak, needy, unstable, subject to erre, to sinne, to suffer, and in the end to dye. Certainly if among all the Philosophical vertues humility and faith be wanting, they serve but to puffe up a man and make him burst and perish. Let us before all things humble ourselves before God, who is the onely wise and righteous, mistrusting ourselves and putting our trust in him. Then let us seeke wisedome in his wisedome; and to frame our spirit upon it let us implore the assistance of his Spirit. After that, moral vertues will become easy to learne, and pleasant to practise. They shall obtaine a good reward in heaven; and in earth work their own recompence.

CHAP. XX. Of the World and Life.

HAving lookt within and about us and be∣held the course of the World in its parts, let us now behold it in the great. Which may be done two wayes, Either in the outward scene of mens actions, or in the inward motions of Gods

providence that are visible to us in some part. In both these respects the World is incomprehen∣sible; in the former for its great variety and con∣fusion, in the latter for its infinite deepenesse.

The outward face of the world is a stage of wickednesse, vanity and misery. Wickednesse is universall; for although in Policies there be some face of order and justice, without which no society can subsist; Yet if one looke to the re∣ality of the actions and intentions of men, the two great trades of the World are fraud and op∣pression. There is a general maxime which eve∣ry man denyeth, and every man (in a manner) practiseth, That wisedome consisteth in thri∣ving by other mens harmes: Publique and pri∣vate contracts, bonds, sureties, and hostages, are fences against that generall inclination, and yet many times are imployed to execute it. All se∣curities both by strength and law are grounded upon that Opinion that none abstaines to do harme but he that wants power. In the best composed States governed with most integrity, particular interesse beares the sway, howsoever publique good be pretended. Wherefore that is the best forme of State where the more good the Soveraine Magistrate doth to the publique, the more he advanceth his owne private interess.

Rapine is the universal practise of the World. Whole Nations live of nothing else. Indeed the Europeans follow it with some outward reserved∣nesse.

There is no lesse wickedness among us then with the Arabians and Moores, but there is more hypocrisy. We do not robbe caravans of Merchants, and take no men upon the Chri∣stian coasts to make them slaves, but we suck out their blood and marrow by quillets of law, we overthrow our Country to build our houses with the publique ruines. Phil. 2.21. All seek their owne not the things of the Lord Jesus. We give indeed that respect to piety and vertue that we will be reputed good, but we are afraid to be so. Little scruple is made of unlawfull profit and pleasure, onely care is taken to do ill feats with little noise. The life of the World is a play where every one studieth, not to do his duty re∣ally, but to act his part handsomly. I leave out more notorious crimes, because they are emi∣nent, and set themselves out by their infamie.

To the wickednesse of the World is joyned vanity weakenesse and folly. For one cunning man there is ten thousand Idiots, whose blind∣nesse and rash credulity is a servant to the cove∣tousness and ambition of a few crafty dealers. And yet the most crafty are not free of the cap∣tivity of custom and superstition, whereby a mans spirit is hooded with errour, and starts at truth and good counsell. The World is a croud of giddy people justling one another, A company of blind people following one another and hold∣ing by the cloak them that go next before. If the

former fall, so will the others; and it would be thought want of civility to stand when the guides are falling, or to offer to see when all the com∣pany is winking, and to refuse to sinne a la mode. Youth is foolish, old age is doting. Orators tell us idle tales with much gravity. To please the people one must deceive them. The vulgar is set in an uproare upon light occasions, and for light reasons pacifyed againe. They leave the substance to runne after the shaddow. Passion not reason makes them turne now to evill now to good; in both the more impetuously, the more weakely. They have some good Opinion of vertue, and esteeme it by hearsay, till it come neere, and then they cannot abide it, labouring to destroy vertu∣ous men, and after they are destroyed esteeming them againe, and calling for them when they are no more. Gallants are slaves to other mens Opinions, neglecting the duty for the ceremony, leaving health and conveniency for a conceited decency, living at a venture, and dying at ran∣dome.

The life of the World is a false game, where there is perpetual justling out one of another whether it be at great sets, when one nation drives another away by invasion, and one facti∣on in the State puts down the contrary; or by playing every one for himselfe, each one catch∣ing what and where he can, whosoever be a lo∣ser by it.

Out of that hideous confusion a wofull misery must needs follow in the world, where for one winner there are a hundred losers. Man by nature is miserable, composed of a sickly body, & a spirit that is his own tormenter. But as if all that were not enough, he is destroyed by his owne kind. There is but two sorts of men in the World, op∣pressours & oppressed; Psal. 74.20. The darke places of the earth are full of the habitations of cruelty, which is also Solomons contemplation. Eccles. 4.1. I conside∣red all the oppressions that are done under the Sun, and beheld the teares of such as were opprest and they had no comforter, and on the side of their oppressors there was power, but they had no comforter. Where∣fore I praised the dead, which are already dead, more then the living which are yet alive. Yea better is he then them both which hath not yet bin, who hath not seene the evill work that is done under the Sunne.

This argument of the wickednesse vanity and misery of the world is so ample, so knowne, and so well treated by others that I may excuse my selfe of further insisting upon it. All this is but the exteriour face of the world: But the inward motions, and the secret order of Gods wise con∣duct among all that disorder, hath never bin sufficiently considered; though there be enough to be seene on the dyal of that great clock to judge at least of the wisedome of the great work∣man, and acknowledge that there is a deepe and divine art in that hidden machine of the counsel∣••••••y,

of his providence. A considering eye may mark how both by the concourse and the opposition of so many free, stirring and disorderly agents cer∣tain orderly and unavoydable events are produ∣ced, determined in Gods eternall decree. How many different ends and intentions which all serve for Gods end. Yea though they be evill, God fetcheth good from them, & turnes them to his glory. Wherefore after we have thoroughly knowne the world as wicked as it is, weak, blind, confused, & turbulent: yet let us acknowledge that all that disorder is usefull, & that among so much evill there is nothing but doeth good. The insolency of some serves to exercise the pati∣ence of others and forme them to vertue. Gods indulgence powring plenty into the mouthes that blaspheme him teacheth his children to do good to their enemies, and not to be more hasty then God to see justice executed on the wicked. It is a goodly study to be a disciple of Gods pro∣vidence.

Consider how the States of the World are maintained by their own diseases. France is swar∣ming with poore and vagrants, and idlenesse is thought there to be essential to gentile blood; but hence it comes that the King gets armies as soon as the drum beats, and is the terrour of his ene∣mies and support of his friends, Whilst other States whose policy is so provident as to leave neither poore nor idle person among them, are

put to hire souldiers of all nations with great labour and cost, and commit their safety to outlandish and uninterressed souldiers. States as well as wine have need of some lees for their perservation. Among the Turks, Muscovites, and Tartars, the tyrannicall unlimited power of the Soveraine and the blind obedience of the people, keep the State in peace which otherwise would be torne with civil warres. Grosse stupid igno∣rance keeps some nations in concord at home; Whilst other nations by their wit and learning are disquieted with endlesse factions. The sa∣vage and uncivill humour of some people makes them considerable, and they are respected of all because they respect no body. Many times a State by a forraine invasion, and by divisions at home hath learned to know his strength, and is become warlike and formidable to his neighbours. The naturall want of necessary things in a Country, too little for the many inhabitants, have caused the people to traffique over all the world, and made the abundance of all regions tributary to their vertue. Covetousness penetrates both the Indies, and compasseth the world about like the Sunne, to bring us pearles to hang at the eares of our Mistresses, and pepper to strow over our cucumbers. For that end great companies of Merchants are associated, and the fortunes of Princes and Commonwealthes are ventured in in great Sea-fights. But out of that hazardous

folly which certainly is a great disease of the mind, a great bulke of new knowledge in natu∣rall things accreweth to the publique stock of learning, and thereby a great gate is open for the propagation of the Gospell. So admirable is Gods providenee, who by small weights setts great wheeles on going, and makes use of the vanity and unsatiable greediness of men to bring neere the remotest parts of the world by the bond of commerce, and advance his Kingdome. Thus among the giddiness of publique commotions, the iniquity of great actions, and the vanity of their motives, the wisedome and goodnesse of the first cause brings under his subjection, the fol∣ly and the wickednesse of inferiour agents. Rom. 3.17. Destruction and misery is in their wayes and the wayes of peace they have not knowne: But they are in Gods hand, who will bring all to a good end.

The reason why we complaine of the badness of the time is that we see but one peece of it. But God that beholds with one aspect the whole course of time from its spring in the creation un∣to the mouth where that great river disgorgeth itselfe into the Sea of eternity, seeth that all which seemeth evill by parcells is good when all parts are taken together. And not onely he beholds it, but he conducts it most wisely, and to that wise conduct we must humbly leave the rectifying of all that seemes amiss to us in the

course of the times. It is a great comfort to our mind, and a great help to our judgement in pub∣lique disorders and private crosses, that we may be certaine that God is an agent above all agents in all things, even in the worst, which he makes instruments; to some of his justice, to others of his bounty, to all of his wisedome.

Among so much evill yet there is some vertue in the world, and where it is not obeyed yet it is respected. If the torrent of the perversity of the time becomes so rapid that good men cannot row against it to any preferment, it will never barre them from all havens of retreat; and to force them to a retreat many times it is to compell them to their good and rest; for as they are fur∣ther from the favour of great men, they are freer also from their factions. During the tempest one may sleep at the noise of the waves. There is no place so unsafe and full of trouble, but the God of peace may bee found in it; And they that trust in him, repose themselves safe and quiet under his wing. The world shall ne∣ver be so wicked and so contrary to good men but that they may do good to the world against its will.

One thing must make us looke kindly upon this world, that it is the Hall of Gods house, where we waite expecting to be advanced to Gods presence; and all things that happen to us in this life helpe to bring us to that Land of Pro∣mise.

All creatures not corrupted by sinne speak to us of God. Yea every thing, good and bad, gives us matter to lift up our thoughts unto God. Nature smiles upon them that love God. Then his law directs us, His promises comfort us, He guides us by his Spirit. He covers us by his providence. He shewes us from above the prize kept for us at the end of the race. By which meanes we are lesse weary of the world then they that ground their hopes upon it. And after we have balanced with a calme judgement the good and evil that is in the world, we finde that the world goeth better with the good then with the bad; life cannot be very bad, if it be a mans voyage to God.