DISTRACTIONS, OR The Holy Madness. Fervently (not Furiously) enraged against Evil Men; or against their Evils. Wherein the Naughty are discovered to Themselves, and Others: and may here see at once, Who they Are; What they Do▪ And How they Ought. Somewhat Delightful, but Fruitful altogether: as Ordered to please a little; but Aimed to profit much.  
By JOHN GAUL, Vtriusque olim Academiae.  
LONDON, ¶ Printed by john Haviland, for Robert Allot. 1629.   

TO THE RIGHT HONOURABLE BAPTIST Lord HICKS, Baron of Ilmington, Viscount Camden; Health, Honour, Happiness, both in this, and a better Life.  
My Honourable good Lord,  
I THUS (as I am bound) bethink me. Whose ought Mine to be, but whose I am myself? To accept the Parent, is (I presume) not to refuse the Brood. It is but my Duty, to beget any thing to your service: and shall be your Goodness, to vouchsafe it entertainment. I must confess, it had been better, this windy Egg should have been pashed in the Shell; than been hatched under your Lordship's Wings. It is a common Fault; and some beside me, bewail I together with me: Ah that such our worthless Brats, so wontedly creep into so honourable Bosoms! What over-insolence is it of ours; that we dare to shroud us there, where we ought rather fear to be detected? This is more than Boldness, that I presume now a Patron for my Work: It shall be but Duty, that I endeavour once a Work for my Patron. What have I here set before you; but what yourself (before me) have not only noted, but hated also; men's Vanities, and Evils? Oh pardon, that I present your Lordship with what you like not to behold: I shall so be tied to make amends with what (I know) you love to embrace.  
To Praise you (as they use) for your Piety, Gravity, Bounty, Clemency; would be thought to flatter you: To have named you is (in all these) to have praised you. Yet will I (maugre all such their imputation, or exception) pray for you. May your Lordship live long days, and good: yea, having now attained to a good age; let it yet be added to your days. May your justest Honour (maugre the mutability of these rolling Globes, & Times) never be destitute of Continuance with Enlargement. May you lastly, for Honour terrestrial, and fading; enjoy an Happiness celestial, and with eternity. So prays, and vows  
Your Honour's devoted and dutiful Chaplain, JOHN GAUL.   

TO THE WISE, and Good, a few Words beforehand; and they in their own Words, the Words of Soberness and Truth.  
YOU, the recovered Sons of a once-Fallen Father; yea, the recounted Sons of a Father everliving: whose Souls he hath so Graciously enlightened, so inflamed; and so made you, as I said (in your Manner, and Measure) both Wise, and Good. You are (I believe no less, and as much rejoice) as fresh Fish, in this salt Sea; as tried Gold, to this cankered Dross; as purging Fires amidst these noisome Dunghills. You are indeed picked out for Fish; yet is there (you know, and grieve) much Soil beside you: You are sown for Wheat; and (alas!) what Tares come up among you? Woe, woe! There will be Goats; though you be marked for Sheep. To you I come (so please you bid me, for you need me not) in the Spirit of Meekness: The Rod only is laid upon the Backs it was made for; the Backs of Fools. Nor to those come I thus only; but even otherwise, as I see occasion. The Physician of the Body useth not the same Means to heal all: Nor, with that other, and better of the Soul, is there one way to win all. To yield to Some, is (by that m●anes) to gain them to ourselves. That I come to Men in their own Words; is to bring Men to your Minds. 'tis but my Bait I have somewhat ordered to their Appetite: you see how my Hook is, it hangs upon. Let my aiming excuse me; and not my Saying, or Seeming only censure me before you. Never was it but allowed, by none but lauded ever; so to stoop to others, as thereby to raise them up. Our Holy Lord vouchsafed himself to be made like us; so to make us like unto himself: would take upon him our silly Offices; so to bring us to his holy Mysteries. What said that Great Doctor of himself? To the weak became I as weak, that I might gain the weak: I am made all things to all men, that I might by all means save some. What should I say of ancient Authors, of holy Fathers; that have writ of weak things, of grave things weakly; and both to instruct the Weak? Besides their love to Goodness and Truth; it was some Art of theirs: so to bend themselves to others, as to draw on others to themselves. To hit a man home a little in his own humour; hath oft been the way to stoop to his Capacity, to touch his Affections. Let it then be at leastwise excusable, so to let a Man understand what he is; as thereby to bring him to what he ought to be. Let no man judge me light, by my Looks; my Face (I mean) and Forefront: A more weighty, and profounder Title of a Book, the Subject and Style accordingly; I observe (for I have already been so occasioned) have soon tired, nay quite deterred a Common Reader: Let not the Better be against me, sith I thus would win on the Worse. What ever the Most may mutter against me; my hope is, the Best will say somewhat for me; against whom I ought, I can say nothing: I know (through the impossibility of pleasing all) I cannot but displease some. Who can say so well, and warily, which all will approve of; nay which many will not even mislike? Let no reverend Father, no loving Brother (whom I humbly observe, whom hearty I embrace) say me malcontent; and therefore moved: (as have also been many in this Mind, and Mood.) Against or besides our State, and Church; nor have I read, have I observed; do I judge, do I acknowledge any; so justly Humane, so religiously Divine. Accept my Words upon my Faith; I labour to look to, and satisfy me with myself: I envy no Man, I inveigh against no more. Nor shall the Foreign Caviller upbraid us with our selves: I say not so of this our Land alone. No: I am a better Bird than so; to defile mine own Nest myself, by saying it so foul. I dare say, other Nations, and their Manners; do (in a manner) instifie us, and ours. Yea and our Publican Sins (I persuade me) in this our Church, shall rise up in judgement against the Pharisaical Righteousness of that other, of theirs. Yet are not we the Better; that they are the Worse: Nor are we the less to be blamed; though they be the more to be abhorred. Let me then disclose to them their Abominations, in our Infirmities. We may together shame Others, and blame ourselves. And now, you again the Wise ones and Good! if I shall do (in any whit) well, and worthy you; afford it your Favour: if otherwise, be pleased yet to Pardon it. So I leave you, whom I humbly crave; and come to those, whom I rightly challenge to be my Readers.   

A PREFACE APOLOGETICAL to his Readers, touching Himself; yea and somewhat Satirical to the Readers it toucheth: Where the Man so Distraught, tells them all together; the Manner, Motive, Main end, and Method of his Madness.  
My Readers.  
ME thinks I hear each of you ask with ACHISH; Have I need of mad men? Not one infers with FESTUS; Much Learning doth make thee mad. Whether you have need of the Former; Sure I am, I have need of the Other, and to no other end. I tell you true, I want Wit to be out of my Wits. It is other than Folly, and Rage, is required to an Holy Madness. Nay but I may take those Two unto me; for I am Mad outright. I had as good say it, as hear it. They have likewise said, of Other, and better than I Have I need of mad men, that ye have brought this Fellow, to play the Mad man in my presence? said the gabbling King of GATH, of One that wisely assumed such Behaviour for his better Safety. Wherefore came this Mad Fellow to thee? said the Servants to JEHV, touching the Prophet, that came about a business of Weight and Worth: This Mad Fellow (say they) and wherefore came he? Though (as it was told them) they knew both the Man, and his Communication. PAUL! Thou art beside thyself: said a new Succeeding, and (perhaps) a new Gaping Governor; to One that well answered for himself: I am not mad; but speak forth the words of Truth, & Soberness. And (which I abhor to repeat) the worst in this wise, was said of Him, that was the best of All: He hath a Devil, and is mad. Wicked men, and witless; judge of Others, and Betters, by themselves. Themselves are Graceless; and the rest (they think) are Reasonless. The Wisdom they apprehend not, they say, is Folly. He does Foolishly, that does beside their Drift. He talks Nonsense, that speaks beyond their Conceit. The Fervent (with them) are Furious: They count of Zeal, but as Rage's: And the Saints Earnestness, they call his Madness. HANNAH is Devout; and is so thought DRUNKEN: And They were said to be Full of new Wine; that were filled with the Holy Ghost. Be a man Devout or Zealous; the world will deem him either Drunk, or Mad.; Are ye so Mad; to think and say so madly of us? yours (if any) is the Madness: Why nure ye others with your own Brand? Mark but who hath marked you: I will smite thee with Madness. The Wise Man said it of wicked men; Madness is in their heart, while they live. Take now your Tongues from us; turn them against yourselves. You had as good yield to confess at first; as you shall be constrained at last: We Fools counted his life Madness. Themselves are Mad; and they call us so: that are not Mad, save mad at them. Shall I moan me with him in the COMEDIAN? Ay me! they say I am Mad; when none so mad, as they. No. As the PSALMIST rather: I said unto the Fools, deal not so madly: Then doubtless they would not make me Mad. I enjoy their Madness, while I seek to shun it: Let them care to heed it, and they may do so by mine.  
But (as I tell you) I have taken upon me, to play the Mad man. Though not with Him, that did so, for his own safeguard: but so to save others, have I done it. As was said of their Ignorance, and Delusion: so let me say according to my Knowledge, and Zeal: The Prophet is a Fool, the Spiritual Man is Mad; for the multitude of thine Iniquity, and the great Hatred. In my sense; a Fool, and Mad am I: for the great Hatred I have to thine Iniquity. My Aim is, and therefore my hope is, I may here say with Him: Whether we be beside ourselves, it is to God: or whether we be Sober, it is for your Cause. I am indifferent what I seem to be, so it be for God's glory, and his children's Good. The truth than is; I am (as I ought) thus distraught: For I am both Warranted, and Urged to it.  
Warranted. The Prophets, and Holy men, (as they were commanded) have gone up and down, some Naked, some Chained, some Loaded, some Wounded: One in a passion, let's fall the Tables, Another on purpose breaks his Bottles. One will needs have another to smite him, Another cannot but must needs smite another. They have bedusted their Heads, besmeared their Faces, beslavered their Beards: They scrabbled with their Fingers, tore their Hairs, rend their ; and (like Mad Men) threw dust into the air. The Saints of God have been sometimes possessed with a Divine Fury. Our strangest Motions, & Gestures (such as men commonly mock, and irk) God oft times both bids, and likes. Even the Vncouthnesse and Abruptness, of our both Passions, and Actions, serve to discover our Zeal, our Indignation, our Devotion. The Prophet took him a TILE, portrayed the CITY, laid a SIEGE, built a FORT, cast a MOUNT, and set a CAMP against it. He likewise CUT OFF his Hair, WEIGHED his Hair, DIVIDED his Hair: BURNED a part in the Fire, SMOTE a part with a Knife, SCATTERED a part in the Wind; and BOND a Remuant in his Skirts. This was (may I say) a mystical kind of Madness. To have seen him thus writing upon a Tile; thus busied about his Hair: who would not have thought him mad, that knew not what he meant? He that hath made the Foolish things of this world to confute the Wise; hath his good Purposes, in the idle Acts, and (as we would think) but uncouth and abrupt Behaviours of men. In the Foolishness of our Do, as of our Preach, hath God his wise Art, and Ends. God hath stirred up weak Actions in his Saints and Servants; so to stir up the weak. Those Practices of theirs that have borne show of Weakness in their Working; were not without Worth in their Meaning; and have had Weight in their Effect.  
Urged. None but Stocks, but may be moved: Especially, how ought we to be urged against Iniquities? I have cause enough to make me mad: Nay, should I be so, so oft as I have cause; I should never be but mad. How unquiet shall he be (yea even uncessantly so) the motion of whose own Affections must depend upon others Evils? What moment shall it be, in which there will not be to move him? Besides himself; even all are always ready to provoke him. Unhappy he! when so many mad him. I could (with Others) have been Sad, and Merry; but I have chosen (by myself) to be Mad at Evils. While jehu comes up against jezabel; what should he but Drive Furiously? but (as there) march on in Madness? There is a mad Knot of Evils in the World; and they ask a mad Wedge to sunder them. I will (and spare not) both Lance, and Seare: Nor shall the Diseased howl, and bawl at me; but rather thank himself. An intemperate Patient, and obstinate, makes, and needs a Physician both hard and harsh. I am sorry for Heraclitus; that was so Sad himself: because others (he saw) were Bad. Shall every Bad man, make me a Sad man? When (I marvel) shall he be Merry; whom others Evil may afflict? This were to hurt myself, and do them no good. Alas too tender Philosopher! himself was to be wept for; that so wept for others. I laugh (in like manner) at Democritus, that mocking Philosopher; that made such lests at men's Earnests. How should I think him serious; that thought all ridiculous? I rather like (with Lampsacus) to mix both, and fall a Madding: to put upon me the very Face of a Fury: and (as a Spy come from Hell) to give the Devil's notice of men's mischievousness. There are Evils in the world, to be Sad at, Merry at, Mad at. We cannot but wail at men's Miseries, but smile at their Vanities, but rage at their Iniquities. Errors may provoke us; but Impieties will enrage.  
Ask now no more with Achish; I answer you at once; You have all need of Mad men. The Divine Fury is ready against you; The Furies of Hell are ready for you; a yelling Fury of your own is within you: Oh suffer another Fury, & shun the other; an Holy Fury! An Holy Fury, to spy out your Evils in your Hearts; to tell them to your Teeth; to curse them before your Faces; to rend them from your Souls; to damn them to their Hell. Never more need of Mad men, than now adays. No Fierceness of men can be enough to curse, and damn the now Sins of men: No Fury under Heaven; none above Hell, is enough to plague them. I will as disorderly reckon the Disorders of our days.  
Now are the Evil Days; the Perilous Times: for now, The whole world lieth in wickedness. Since the World was, never was the World so wicked as now. It was once the Wickedness of a World; but is now a World of Wickedness. The Wickedness that once was, was concluded in a Garden: but the whole World cannot contain the Wickedness that now is. Nay, the Wickedness that now is, can contain a whole World: For so he says, The whole World lieth in wickedness: And not Wickedness only in a World. The World was a Seat of Wickedness; but Wickedness is become a Continent of the World. Quite against the Rule of Reason, the Accident is the receptacle for the Subject. We are now the worst Generation of Men: Even they upon whom the Evil Days are come indeed. Our Fathers have left their Faults behind them: which of Evils in them at first; are become Examples to us after them. Wickedness is now not only Done, but Taught. Ungodliness is grown to a Fashion: Iniquity and Evil is so generally, customarily, publicly taken up: that to be Wicked now, is not only made pardonable, but thought commendable amongst us. We have exceeded our Forefathers Evil: and (for our Time) have set up Sin at so high a Pitch; that it were impossible to think how Posterity should add unto our Iniquities. And this is the woe of all; that Men are irrecoverably Evil. Their corruption hath brought them to a custom; their custom to an Obstinacy; their Obstinacy to a Necessity of being Evil: and that Necessity of being Evil, to an impossibility of being otherwise. As a Divine Philosopher to his Friend; When thou shalt see (said he) a Multitude in a Market, Theatre, or like frequented place; think with thyself, there are as many Vices, as Men. I say beside; in a Playhouse, Exchange, Hall, Court, and Church; there is ever a greater throng of Sins, than Men. For, amongst the throngs of Men, every Man hath his throng of Sins. Not to the Heads of Men only, but to the Hairs of their heads, may their Sins be numbered. Men were never so many, but one man might reckon all the rest: But the Sins of one man, are more than he can count; much more, than for which he can give account. What say we of men, and their Sins? You cannot reckon more Nations, than you may Abominations. Besides the Barbarous People, whose Religion it is, to do Devil's worship; whose Law, to do Men Wrong: We speak of these more Civil, more Christian Parts. Lo here! Every Nation (as I said, and I cannot say more fitly) his Abomination. The German Gluttonous, the Italian Ireful, the Spaniard Proud, the Frenchman Effeminate, the Dutchman Deceitful, the Irishman Idle, the Scottish-man Soothing, and the Englishman (alas the Englishman!) Evil. Observe all manner of Men, and their Manners. Turks are Barbarous, Iewes Malicious, and Christians (ah Christians!) Hypocritical.;  
I may say of Any, or of All. Iniquity abounds in all both Nations, Persons, Actions: In all which Innocence is not only rare, but none at all. He spoke but too true of these Times, and Crimes of ours: In the last days, perilous Times shall come. For men shall be lovers of their own selves, Covetous, Boasters, Proud, Blasphemers, Disobedient to Parents, Unthankful, Unholy, without natural Affection, Truce-breakers, false Accusers, Jncontinent, Fierce, Despisers of those that are Good, Traitors, Heady, High minded, Lovers of Pleasures, more than lovers of God, Having a form of Godliness, but denying the Power thereof. In these Days, Men are Borne, Live, and Die unto themselves: And are become such strange Lovers of themselves; that beside themselves, love they neither God, nor Man. Their own Lust's only love they as their lives. Those vices of theirs that please them, they maintain: Will outface, rather than acknowledge them: rather approve, than forsake them. Every man now for himself: Nay, every man now one against another. All wild and savage Ismaels', His hand against every Man, and every man's hand against him. His Brother's Knife, at his Brother's Throat: his Brother's Sword, in his Brother's side. Stranger is not safe with Stranger: Nor is Kinne secure with Kin: And loving Brethren are as Black Swans. The Godly man most of all, is (in this world of wickedones) as a Lily amongst Thorns; as a Sheep in the midst of Wolves: With JOB, a Brother to Dragons; and with EZEKIEL, a Neighbour to Scorpions: A LOT in Sodom; a JOSEPH in Egypt; an ISRAEL in Babylon. Must either be drawn to do Evil; or forced to endure it. All that is in this World, is either Snares, or Preys: There is no way for us to escape ourselves; but by seeking to entrap others. The world is come to such a pass; that we must either do Wrong, or take Wrong; Kill, or be Killed, Deceive, or be Deceived.;;  
Religion (it is manifest) is but taken up under hand: while Piety, and Honesty lie so under foot. They make some Profession, that so they may wrong with loss Suspicion. Men walk like Foxes in Lambs skins, that they may the rather deceive: and come like Wolves in Sheep's Clothing, that so they may the sooner devour. Pharisee like, Clean Outsides, painted Sepulchers, whited Walls; they devour Widows Houses, under pretence of long Prayers. And what more foul Iniquity, than this so feigned Sanctity? How horribly do men belie their Vices? Their Pride, they call Gracefulness, their Flattering, Courtesy; their Tyranny, justice; their Avarice, Thrift; their Lewdness, Pleasantness; their Profuseness, Bounty; and their Craft and Subtilty, call they Policy, and Discretion. It was never good World since Vice went in Virtue's Name, and Habit.  
The Manners of Men have now brought Laws themselves into their Subjection. Never more Laws; none more Lawless, than now adays. What Offences are done daily before the Bar of justice? Right is but little Defended, even where Right seems to be most Reserved. Laws are bought, and sold: And he commonly hath the best Pennyworth of Law; that hath the worst Cause. Laws are so many, and so abused; that they are made to discourse, and dispute Truth, and Right: Whereas were they fewer, and well executed; they would easily and readily determine, and command them both. Nor doth a Common wealth labour so in the multitude of Laws, as of Lawyers. (I speak not of just judges, and equal Officers of the Law.) But of cunning Catchpoles, and hungry Pettifoggers; that (like swarms of Flies) pester, and infest a land. These (if you knew all) have rob many a Church, wronged many a Widow, starved many an Orphan, and undone many an honest Man. In foul stirs, and Contentions of Men, these thrust in for more filthy Advocates. Of these I say; Many Lawyers, many Wranglers. Else, how should these men live, that are raised by others ruins; did they not make work for themselves. These Seminaries of Dissension, have a Cavil, or a Quirk, to make the Law itself (which indeed is a Rule of Peace) set Men at odds and keep them so. As when you send your Water to a needy Empiricke, you must resolve to take Physic: so declare your case to one of these greedy Catchpoles, and you must needs go to Law. Nay, he tells you what wrong you have done yourself hitherto: and all to bring you (by his means) to do yourself, and others Wrong. You (like silly sheep) take this Bryar-Bush to shelter you; and he all to tatters your Fleece: you two must tug together ere you part. His is the Gain only in the end, yours (perhaps) both the Loss, and Shame.  
This is also a sore evil under the Sun: Virtue is set after Wealth Wealth gets up a Cockhorse; while Virtue but holds the Stirrup. Learning is made but a Page to Riches. The Golden Ass is worshipped; the Ragged Philosopher is contemned. Let a man be Religious, Virtuous, Learned, Wise; yet this thing is thought to prejudice his best Parts; that he is Poor: But let him be Impious, Vicious, Clownish, Foolish; yet that he is Rich, makes amends for all the Rest. A Man without Money, is abhorred like a Monster: but adored as a Goddess, is Money without a Man. This same Goddess Wealth, bewitches us all to her Worship. For her we plot, and pray; and ride, and run; and dig, and beg. For base Lucre's sake, we are ready to embrace an Enemy, and fall at odds with a Friend. So ours be the Gain, we respect not whose is the Loss; yea though the Loss prove our Souls at last.  
The World turns round in a Topsy-turvy; and every Thing goes the wrong way to work. The Ass is got to a Harp; Phaeton will be climbing; and Icarus must go fly. Every man irks his own Lot: is weary of his present Condition: Nothing is more tedious to him, than himself. Nor can he contain him within the pale of his proper Calling. Art hath got a trick to force Nature. Every Man considers what he Aims at; not what he is Apt for. Mercury is made out of every Log. Dunces go for Scholars; Wretches are pressed for Soldiers; Idiots usurp Authority; and Knaves creep into Offices: Tailors take Orders; and Weavers will be Priests. Frogs profess Physic. Wherein is a Man's least Skill; that is his whole Profession. Men travel in untimely Births, labour in unapt Actions: Like Channels without a Conduit; turn Teachers, when they yet both might, and aught to Learn. They usually come armed to the Church; go naked to the Camp: sing at a Funeral; mourn at a Wedding: study hard in a Playhouse; sit fiddling in a Senate-house: earnest in a May-Game; and slack upon their Service. One takes upon him to swim over Hellespont on a Horse; Another aims to ascend Athos in a Ship: One lies him down to sleep in a Wagon; Another will go a journey on his Bed. One takes buttered Pease on his Knife point; Another eats Eggs with Spoons. Bid him speak, & he is mute: say Wished, and he babbles. He writeth Politics, ere he yet come into a Commonwealth; Commands peremptorily, where he hath small Authority; flatly Determines, what he least conceives. Who knoweth himself? who hath himself? who enters into himself? who keeps within himself? who seeks not himself without? No man measures himself by his own Feet; by his own Parts is no man measured. Asses prefer Straw, to Gold: and Dunghill Birds a Barley Corn, to a precious Pearl. Base things are esteemed, and frequented: Better things they neither know how to prise, nor use. Fools and Idiots, let fall Substances, to catch at Shadows: let the Bird go out of hand, and keep a beating about the Bush. Uncertainties are the most certain Purchase. All turn Merchant Adventurers, (for Places, Offices, Dignities; Temporal, Ecclesiastical) and buy long Hopes, with a large Price. How many fond both adventure, and undo themselves, to be well spoken of? Speak him but fair to his Face, and you may have his Heart out. His Table furnishes him with Friends; and they likewise his Table: And now the Cloth scarce taken up, but they are ready to rise. Men are all for the Present: And for that, so as it be commodious. What hath formerly been, is now forgotten. There is indeed a quick Apprehension, but no good Memory of one another's Acts, and Offices. If he cannot so do, as he hath done; he shall not be so thought, as he was. Former things are Frosted. An old Dog shall be hanged; an old Servingman discarded; and an old Friend neglected: notwithstanding they have been formerly so Useful, Painful, Beneficial. A man cannot tell whom to trust to; nor how to believe him. Beside what his Heart imagines, and Tongue utters; his very Face betokens Falsehood. he'll blow hot, and cold both with a wind: Say, and unsay, nay gainsay with a Breath. Will promise Mountains, and perform Molehills: and tell you of more in a Minute, than you shall find in a Year. Nay (which is worst) will both Say well, and Do well in Deceit. As, many a man hath had a Good Turn done him: not altogether to benefit, but to blind, and bewitch him rather. A Man speaks a good word for his Friend, and two for himself: And commonly so advices him, as to bring his own ends about. Two men contend together, and a Third arbitrates to either's loss. Like Dogs, they snarl at one another, till the Bone be snatched away from both Great men easily take occasion to wrong Inferiors with authority. And the Poor man hath offended enough; in that he is not able to defend himself. The Poor man must part with his own Right; or else he gives not the great Lord his Due. Rich men's Superfluities are grown envious 〈◊〉 Poor men's Necessities. Like Dogs in Mangers; they have no need of it, they have no will to it; and yet they keep the poor Cattles from their Fodder. If a Man be once down the Hill; every Man is apt to depress him further. Once gored in the Body of his Estate, how many Hounds pursue him, and trace him still by the blood of his Wound? He is soon made more miserable; that is once so. None hath less paid him, than he, to whom most is due. Whom his Piety doth most commend; him doth their Charity lest reward. It is both the Rule and Practice, to repel Force with Force: and repay Craft with Craft. So are we wont to do to others, as we see they have done; not as we would they should do, to us. Do a Man Good; and this is thankes enough, that he doth thee no Hurt. How many are ready to reward Evil for Good: and to wrong him most, of whom he best deserved? What Spiders Webs are here in the World? Turbulent Wasps burst through; while Impotent Gnats are entangled. The Gallows groans for great Thiefs; and small Thiefs only groan upon the Gallows. What one Man doth, is a Fault, and Punished: What so many do, is thought well, though worse. 'tis strange, that the Greatness, and Generality of a Crime; should make it seem less mischievous, less miserable, less punishable. That belike is Lawful, which comes once to be Common And (which is last, and worst) Men live, at men's lusts: So also, Men perish, at men's pleasures. And to Kill; is both Courage, and Skill. Murder is made a Man's Art: and 'tis his Credit, to have handsomely done the Deed. Besides those that are evil to others; how many are so unto themselves? How many Giants are there; how many Gulfs of their Estates? They carry all upon their Backs; These put all into their Bellies: these feed finely, and rot at a dear rate: They go gaily, till they be worth not above their wear. He makes a God of his Belly; He a Channel of his Throat; He a Sink of his Heart; He a Liar of his Tongue; He a Thief of his Fingers; He a Harlot of his Members. Yet (Oh desperate! Oh damnable!) say the Thief, Drunkard, Blasphemer, Fornicator; their Thefts, Riots, Oaths, Lusts; are all (if sins) but Venial Sins. No sin is so great; but is lessened in his Opinion, by whose Mischief it is committed. Goodness and Truth have not more Precepts, than Adversaries thereunto. The Covetous man shrinks and shrugs, at a Lesson of Liberality: It irks a Prodigal, to tell of Thriftiness: The Proud man endures not to hear of Humbleness: The Ireful hath no Patience, no not so much as to listen thereunto: The Thief stops his ears at the Charge of justice: The desperate Cutthroat is ready to dispatch him first, that would dissuade him from the Fact: 'tis tedious to talk of Chastenesse before the Lustful: And Soberness to a Drunkard, is but as a Tale of a Tub. These men will every one sooner mar the Rule, than mend their Fault. Wicked men will rather abhor the Precepts, than forsake their Offences. Precepts will do no Good against them; and judgements but make them Worse I will leave them therefore to the Angel's judgement; but indeed the Devil's Precept: He that is filthy, let him be filthy still.  
Mad? nay and Mad; and Mad again. Who burns not, starts not, frets not? Whose Ears tingle not, Eyes sparkle not, joints tremble not? Oppression maketh a Wise man mad; said the Wise Man: Iniquity (say all Good men) will make a Good Man Mad. To hear, and see as I have said; is enough to make Wife, or Good Men Melancholy, Moved, Mad. It would make a Horse break his Halter; to see what Fiddling, Piping, Morrice-dancing, Hobby-horsing in a May-game: but to repeat the Vanities, and Evils of Men; is able to fret a Man out of his Wits. It is not possible to look here upon others; and yet be ourselves.  
Whether it come of a Melancholy, a Blood, a Choler; it makes me Sad-mad, Merry-Mad, Mad-Mad. See me sometimes bemoaning, deriding, and execrating their Iniquities. Any ways in the world, to tell Men how I lament, scorn, abhor their Evils. While I bewail the Weak, smile at the Vain, detest the Wicked; am I so Sad, & Merry, & Mad.  
Sad-Mad. Our Saviour (pardon to the comparison!) was ANGRY and GRIEVED together. The holy Prophets have laid Ashes on their Heads, put Sackcloth on their Loins; smote their Thighs, and set their Eyes open, as flowing Fountains, to gush out rivers of Tears; and all because of others Iniquities. This is one of our Perfections, to be touched with others Evils, as our own. Better to be grieved at, than guilty of another Man's Sinne. Not to irk another's Evil; is as much, as to make it our own. I shall do no Man Wrong to bewail his Wickedness. I need ask him neither Leave, nor Pardon, to be sorry for him. It is a good fault; to afflict ourselves, for others Faults.  
Merry-mad. God but mocked the Man; Behold, the Man is become as one of Us: And the Prophet, those Idolaters; Cry aloud, for he is a God etc. So the Wiseman, the young Wanton; Rejoice, O young man, in thy youth, etc. And the Saviour, the Traitor; Friend, wherefore art thou come? And so the picture of Patience, his Cavilling Companions; No doubt but ye are the People; and wisdom shall die with you. An Irony is not unbeseeming Divinity. It hath pleased the HOLY GHOST, to be thus fair pleasant in Speech: as to have the Words of Holy Writ Seasoned with Salt; that so they might Administer Grace unto the Hearers: And especially, by a witty kind of deriding Rhetoric.; Moreover, Holy Men, and Learned; have in Weighty Matters, both Answered, and Censured; with a witty kind of Mockage, and pleasant Disdain. One asked Augustine, what God did, before he made Heaven, and Earth? He answered well & wittily; He made Hell, for such curious Inquisitors as himself. When julian the Apostate, demanded arrogantly, what the Carpenter's Son was doing? The Christians answered aptly, and elegantly; He was making a Coffin for julian. Erasmus (when he was asked what Offence Luther did?) prettily replied; He took away from the Pope, his Head; and from the Monks, their Bellies. More might be said of Holy Fathers; much more of Wise Philosophers. One told a King, that he had his Ears in his Feet: sith he heard not his Petition, till he had there prostrated himself. Another answered a Physician; He kept. his Health, because he used him not. Another bade a Bastard (throwing stones amongst a Throng) take heed he did not hit his Father Not almost an Apothegme of theirs; but thus both witty, and weighty. Nor do after-Wits come short of the other. One called the Pope a Participle; because he takes part of the Clergy, and part of the Laity, without Mood and Tense; meaning, beyond Time, and Measure. Another asked the Pope, if ever he said the Lords Prayer, and those words therein; Our Father, and Forgive us our Trespasses: Which if he did, then was he neither Holy Father, nor Father How many might he said of this fort? Wise men, and Good, have wontedly said all against Evils; in this Graceful kind of Reproaching. Mens Evils have been more easily, and profitably Derided, than Confuted. Even these pleasant Disdains, have oft proved weighty Arguments against Iniquities. Now, say me not Light; If I would have been Delightful. I would not in words be Churlish, nor Clownish: Nor have I been Scurrile, nor Illiberal. Have I jested at Laws, or Religion? at the Persons, or Miseries of Men? Except against their Vanities, so ridiculous indeed; what have I said, but soberly? To have been aptly Facetious; hath added to the Gravity, and Severity of Speech. Whether in some Appellations, Descriptions, Transitions; what hath been said, not so seriously: said I it only to make thee laugh? I were more than Mad, so to make thee laugh; as to make myself thy laughingstock. Where my Words may show some Lightness; my Aim there hath this Weight: My sober Derision, my just Disdain; thy smother Reprehension, thy liberal Delight.  
Mad-mad. I have here said enough, not only to excuse me for it: but (me thinks) to encourage me to it. Three speak Truth; one of which is the Madman. Thou mayst say me Mad: but I speak the words of Soberness, and Truth. The Truth is; I love to strip, and whip men's bosome-Harlots before them: and let them plainly know themselves to be no better, than they are. What should I parable it; with the Woman? I am a Widow, mine Husband is dead, My Sons striven together, etc. These were but fare Fetches: I had rather point it, with the Prophet; Thou art the Man: this is plain to the purpose. If I must speak against Vice; the vicious shall not teach me what to say. I should not say, as they were: should I say no other, than as they would. I will not ask counsel of them, to bewray their Counsels: but will make bold, after mine own mind, to tell Men their Minds. Away with the fawning Curs, and toothless; with the buzzing Beetles, and stingless: Give me the Dog that will bite home; and the Wasp that will sting indeed. Take away the Tartness (said a Bold-Speaker, for the Freedom of his Speech) and Bitterness from Wormwood; and it loseth both the Nature, and Name: Take away my Name too; if you bar me of my Bitterness. Let your speech (said He) be seasoned with Salt; tempered (he meant) with Discretion: Yea and (after him, say I) my Speech shall be seasoned with Salt; powdered (I mean) with Severity. Abstract the acrimony; and (in my Construction) The Salt hath lost the Savour.  
Lo! (thou sayest) a very Lamia: The mad Hag hath Eyes to put in, and pluck out at will. He puts his Eyes (as one of those) in his Head, while he walks Abroad: but keeps them in a Box, when he stays at Home. So are we wont indeed, to have Lyncean Eyes to Others: but are as blind as Moles toward ourselves. True, and 'tis the property of an Eye, to see all, but itself. I confess; We can sooner find out others Faults; than mend our own. But if I blame thee, with what myself am also Guilty of; Thou shalt not need upbraid me with it: I shall now be enough to reproach myself. If I be no other, than I say thou art: what my Tongue tells to thee, my Heart will not hide from me. What I but call thee once, will it tell me twice. Double is his both Gild, and Blame; when the Fault rebuked by him, doth also redound unto him. I suppose (with Him) thou mayst say, and slander me; Physician, heal thyself: I abhor to hear from Him; Thou which teachest Another; teachest thou not thyself?  
But (after mine own Cure) I here am thy Physician: and have so dealt with Iniquities; as do such with Maladies. See here thou mayst, the Parues Affections, and their Affected Parts: together with their several Signs, Grounds, Fruits, Causes, Cures. I have taken but Three Patients here in hand at once: and they more than I look for Profit by; more (I fear me) than I shall get Credit by. But Three, to the Three Furies, or Madnesses; whom I mean to match against them. Three shall be all at once; since Three once were all: All that is in the World (is but Three) the lust of the Flesh, the lust of the Eyes, and the Pride of Life.  
One thing is; & I would thee note it: I have applied it as a sovereign Remedy, against whatsoever Malady: Concluding still with a Meditation of Mortality, and Death. Nothing makes a Man more irk his Evil; than to think on his End. He that thinks what he shall then be; will be wary what he now doth. Sin was the only means, that brought a Man to Death: but Death is thus the only means, to keep a Man from Sin. He aimed aright; Remember the End, (said he) and thou shalt never do amiss. To meditate on Death, is as a Curb against all sinful Courses: and a Spur pricking on to pious Duties Prick the wand'ring Snail but with the MEMENTO of Death's Dart; and he strait retires into his Shell: Let the Pilot sit close in the End of the Ship; and he now governs it aright. To have Death before his Eyes; is the ready way, to have God before his Eyes. He easily contemns what is Present, and Passing away: that considers what is Everlasting, and to Come.  
I have no more (nor needed I so much) to say for myself: Only, against Thee (if thou be of them) have I yet more. All the Cursed Crew; Men of the World, Sons of Belial, Children of Darkness, Imps of Confusion, Limbs of Satan, Firebrands of Hell: I'll tell them All my mind, as I meet them. I'll take them, where I find them: And say no more to thee; till I see thee there.   


I'M Mad, say Most;  
That most are mad, and worse;  
I say me so;  
'Cause I see them no other.  
They make me Moan,  
Sigh, Smile, Scorn, Rage, and Curse.  
Nor I my Fervour;  
Nor their Faults can smother.  
How can I help it;  
That am made so Mad?  
'tis Thou must mend it;  
That hast been so Bad.   

BOth Wise, and Good,  
Will warrant me my Madness;  
Themselves have likewise  
More than moved been:  
Will either such  
(Wise, Good) be for thy Badness?  
E●en they that work ill,  
Will speak ill of Smne.  
How can I help it;  
That am made so Mad?  
'tis Thou must mend it;  
That hast been so Bad.   

THy sore Mishaps  
I Moan; I Sigh, so see  
Such Errors Frail;  
Smile, to behold thy Fashions  
Both , and vain;  
Scorn thy Iniquity;  
Rage, at thy Rudeness;  
Curse thy Abominations.  
How can I help it;  
That am made so Mad?  
'tis Thou must mend it;  
That hast been so Bad.    

The Proud.  
Go to then; and what's He? I have seen the Man but of late; and how suddenly is he altered? True Emblem of his own Mutability! He shows it, but he heeds it not. To Day hath changed him from Yesterday, both in Face, and Fashion: Nor shall you see him the Same to Morrow, that he is to Day. The Man seems but as he is; a very Changeling. Nay he so adapts his Humour also to his Habit; that you shall never take him, but in as many Minds, as Suits. How he grudges at the stinted Course of Nature, as but niggardly; that at first allotted him but one Face and Skin, and Bulk, and Shape: but admires the Liberal Invention of Art; that can still so trimly, and newly proportion him. He thinks himself (I warrant him) a fare comelyer Creature of a Tailor's shaping, than of Gods making. As the one therefore he shames to be seen: but as the other, he glories to show himself. He is one of ADAM'S own Sons, and hath it by Kind to blush at his bare Self. Ah! we could not thus irk ourselves, were not ourselves conscious of some thing other than good: We see some ugliness, which we would have none to se●. Had we not defaced the Image of God in us, we had never been ashamed to let it have been seen. Truth desires to beseene naked, as she is: And the Purest things abhor to be covered, or coloured. Painted Walls, painted Sepulchers, you conceive what they are beside their Painting.  
Oh but (I see) he hath quite altered the Fashion; and hath made him a new kind of Catchcredit, of his old Cover-shame. His sightly Ornament, he counts it; which was once but his Forefathers beggarly Shift. Ah! that Men can now glory in that Superfluity; whose very Necessity was but the Badge and Livery of their Shame. We know, 'twas ADAM'S Shame, that he was so driven to have them: And we think it our shame, when we are so driven, that we have them not. He is not (I see by him) a little proud of himself: now beclad in a varnished Excrement; & so bedawbd in a glittering Rubbish. Who thinks himself the better Man, for what he is glad to borrow of Beasts, and Earth? Is he the more Man, for what they (before him) were not the less Bruits, & Dung? See see! A Sheep in a golden Fleece: Howsoever he thinks of his Fleece; I will think him but a Sheep. He prances most statelily in his gay Trappings. But I would be loath to buy, or use an Horse, that is only so valued. It is for him to prise a fair Outside; that knows, nor hath nothing within, worthy more esteem. How curiously he glances upon himself? He thinks, he is for other eyes than his own, to be so broadly gazed at. Why cringes he so to his Coat? unless he would in good earnest, which the Philosopher did in jest; Honour that, that honours him. Bucephalus is now royally trapped, and flings at all but Alexander himself: disbarbe but the jade, and every Stable-Groome may bestride him. Many Men as Proud to seem what they are not: It only debases them to be seen, and known what they are. The Ass carries painted and polished Isis upon his back; and (Lord!) how the Vulgar Worship him? A wise man will judge of the Tree, by the Fruit, or Bulk: he is a Fool that doth value it by the Bark, or Huske.  
A proper Squire he seems near at hand; and (you mark him) well dight up. Beside a spruce shape, and gay Gloss he hath about him; see what a lofty Port, and Gesture he carries with him. He stalks on in state: I should say, he marches most maiestickly. All his Pace is Measures; and his Hands accordingly keep Time, to the Tune of his Feet. His Beaver cocks, Feather wags, Locks hover, and Beard stands in print: his Band spreading (like a Net) about his neck, his Cloak displayed (as a Flag) upon his arm, his Doublet hanging by Gimmors upon his shoulders, and his Breeches buttoned about him: His Boots ruffle, Spurs jingle, and his long Rapier (which he is often tied to) confronts him at the hilt; and toward the point, answers his heels with a grace. What a supercilious Look he hath? I warrant you, the very blast or sound of his Speech, would make you start. How he rears in the Neck, struts at the Stomach, and traces with his Arms a kemboll: he trips with his Toes on the Earth, & waves his Hand, as he would touch the heavens with his Finger. He hath one part and property of a Man, which is, to look upwards. He thinks this same doth prefer him with Reasonables, when we know it doth but distinguish him from Bruits. he'll set his Legs upon the Last, rather than lose an inch of his height: I will say one good word for him; and 'tis the best I know by him: Than this Man in his way, no man walks more uprightly. Mark how he heaves, as though he almost scorned to tread: He casts up his Nose into the Wind, looks beyond the Clouds, mantles against the Moon, and busies himself wholly to build Castles in the Air. What an Alderman's pace he comes? He prolongs the Pageant for the Beholders take; and hurries nor on too hastily, lest most Eyes find no leisure to look upon him. See see! he stops and turns in the mid way, at but the apprehension of a lost labour. Oh do him not the wrong to look beside him: for if you see him not, he comes by to no purpose. The Proud man is not more haughty in his own, than ridiculous in a wise man's eyes: whereas others look at him, he looks thorough him; and sees plainly the vanity of his Mind, in that bodily shaping: He but smiles at that Carriage of his, which others learn: And thinks, what Folly there is in Pride, that feigns to itself, as it would; and flatters itself, as it hath feigned. He tells her, his eyes are purer, than her painted glory can dazzle: nor are they stinted to behold that only, which she would have him see. He calls her the Ape of Nations, and Fashion-monger of the World: and tells her plainly, she hath more Followers of her Fashions, than are either Wise, or Good.  
Do you hear Sir? Surely his ears are taken up to listen only to his own fantastic Suggestions. He is wholly busied about himself: and heeds not others, while he thinks others cannot choose but heed him. At him once more: I pray you Sir— Now he squints at me over the left shoulder, as though he deemed me at a glance, scarce worth the most careless piece of his notice. Perhaps he likes not the fashion of my phrase, 'tis too homely for his acquaint relish, and sounds not correspondent to the scraping of his whole acquaintance. I am not wont to the fine Flourishes of his Fashionall Rhetoric. He would have heard me sooner, had I bespoke him in his own Dialect; which he heeds most, and best understands. I had forgot to think on some curious Compliment, and refined Salute: which himself hath so often cond, that he hath them at his Tongue's end, and there only. Now I remember me, I have a whole Method of them lying by me; which he gathered but by Fragments, and so he utters them. Save you noble Sir; How fares your Body? You are fortunately met; I congratulate your happy Fortunes; Sir I honour you; Would I might do you any Office; I think me happy in your Noble Society; I desire your more Acquaintance; I embrace your love with both arms; I kiss your hands; I adore your worth, I reverence your shadow; Sweet Sir ravish me with your Presence; bless me (kind Sir) by your Favour. Oh Sir your Servant; Pray Sir command me; That I were but worthy to observe you, Would I might have enjoyed your good company; Happiness attend you; my Service wait upon you. Vain Verbalists! whose words are but wind, uttered, and ended in themselves: Lightly occasioned, and as little intended. God gave you your Tongues, to use them seriously, not to dally with so deceitfully. Nature hath taught you the faculty of Speech, to tell euch others your minds, and hearts: But you have coined, and conned your words of Art, to discourse, and dissemble with. Your words of Course, and Compliment; gain you as little Heed, and Repose from others: as they have Truth, or Intention in yourselves. You think you have learned to speak with a grace; and talk in a certain royalty of Speech: When (alas) it is the Vanity only that is openly heard, and secretly smiled at.  
I am your poor Friend Sir, do you know me? Not? He hath but said, as I thought. A proud Man remembers not another; because he hath forgotten himself. Yet (if I mistake him not) he so love's himself, whom he knows not; that he almost hates all others, whom he knows. He envies his Superior, neglects his Equals, despises his Inferior. And for these last, he neither endures to take notice of them; nor that they should make acquaintance with him He hath heard, Familiarity brings Contempt: he therefore contemns all kind of Familiarity. So does he glory in what he is; that than of what he was, he is of nothing more ashamed. He thinks himself a goodly Branch, and noble; but irks to think on the vile and base Stock he grew upon. Nothing can more disgrace him, than if his poor Father should meet him, and own him in the Streets: And he blushes sooner at the meanness of his Kinsfolks, than at their Misdemeanours. Who so Proud as he, than whom none more base? The Beggar on horseback, is altogether for the lofty pace. Wretch's always wax most insolent, Cowards rigorous, and Peasants haughty. If he get once to think better of himself, he therefore thinks worse of all: He concerts others under him; because he is now rapt above himself.  
'tis true I tell you. You know not me whom you scum; you I both know, and pity Your Name (I take it) is Sir Haughty-Heart, A man of an High Descent: Your Great Grand Father (I remember) came tumbling down from Heaven. He (let me say by the way) fell justly, that was too Proud, to stand uprightly. And you his Generation, like Monsters, you fling Mountains upon heaps; Yea like Fools in a Confusion, you build you Babel's so high; as though you would reach, and dare Him; against whom your first Father once aspired. I easily observe, The Proud Man and the Devil conspire in one presumptuous Fault: it therefore is, he hazards with him the like desperate Fall.  
Nay scowl not, stare not, stamp not, swear not; keep in your threatening Words, & Weapon. Galled Consciences kick (like jades) when their Sores are touched: Give me leave a little. My Challenge is to another, and better Fray: where the Conqueror and Vanquished may part friendly, with Safety and Glory on both sides. Nor is it a single Duel I summon and provoke thee to; but a set Battle. I can both number thy Forces; and order mine own. Disdain provokes your War, and self-conceit maintains it; Rashness musters up, and pride leads out your Bands; Vainglory blows your Trumpet, and Insolence is not upon the Skirmish. But, Humility gives me the safer Ground, Gravity ranks my Troops, Modesty beats up my Drum, Meekness receives the Onse●, and Patience gets the Victory. We yield a while, and you forth with sound an Alarm. Your feather-flanting Bravadoes are at length but a blast before our Weatherbeaten Soldiers: and who now sounds Retreat? Pride is unhorsed by Humility, Gravity hath given Rashness the foil, Modesty hath stopped the mouth of Vainglory, Meekness hath cooled the courage of Disdain, Insolence is pinioned by Patience, and Self-conceit hath taken heels and is run away from thee. Thy Soldiers are thus put to sword, and flight: and lo (as I said) safety, and glory on both sides! Of a base Commander thou art now become an honourable Captive: Nor are we otherwise proud of the conquest; than that thou art humbled in the Foil. We have spoiled thy Forces, because they were thine; thee have we spared, because thou now art ours: March on with us to the fairest Mark in our Field, true Peace and Liberty. Had thine been the day; we could but have died honestly: thou mayst live honourably, now it is ours. To embrace an happy, and lasting league, is needful for thee, and for us expedient: sith thou hast the Benefit, and we the Credit of the victory. Only thou shalt confess, and rejoice; the War was most justly begun, and as happily ended. Happy is he, whom Verive having conquered, hath made her Captive, Tributary, Subject, Servant. There is no shame where she foils; where she spoils there is nolosse: She strives not with us, but for our good; nor are we hurt, but in her repulse.  
How answerest thou my Challenge? Enter Lists accordingly, and thou shalt find I have prophesied the number, order, and event of a Mystical Pfeuchomachie. What needs all this (thou saift) betwixt us? Thou hast ever professed thee a Friend to those on my side; nor hast thou entertained the other to thee. In plain terms (so easily thou canst excuse it) Thou never knewest what Pride was; nor yet canst thou tell how to be Proud. No Man hath been so vicious, but that he hath made Virtue his profession. Even the most dissolute will not own their Vices: but will yet usurp a name from the former, however the latter be their practice. Never man was so proud, as to think himself so: That Pride were more abominable than was Lucifers, that could be proud of itself. But listen, and I'll teach thee how to know thyself: Give ear awhile to thyself; I'll describe thee a Man so like thee in all points and proportions: as that he that sees you together, must put on his Spectacles, and view all things double, that takes you for two.  
A Proud Man is one that climbs the wrong way to ascend thither; from whence his Father fell. Is his own NARCISSUS, and all men's TIMON: hating others, and enamoured of himself. One that esteems himself in a Contempt of others: or contemns others in his own Esteem; you cannot say whether first, or more. Many a thing doth he contemn in another, and yet admites it in himself. He wonders at what he hath, & boasts of more. He reckons his Chickens before they be hatched; and all his Geese are Swans. He grows as big as a Mountain, though he bring forth, but a Mouse: and as soon as he hath laid, he Cackles. He boasts of those parts of his; wherein many Beasts excel him, and say nothing. The little he hath so dazzles him, that he sees not what a deal he wants. His vices he puts in the back part, but his Virtues in the fore part of the Wallet. Them he soon forgets, these he oft repeats. Swanlike, he carries a stiff neck over his white Feathers, but sees not that his feet are black. Others Faults, and his own Parts are still before him: and thus while he compares, he cannot but prefer himself. Because he is somewhat better than the worst; he thinks him now as good as the best. He hath so many Inferiors, that he thinks no man his Superior. Whereas others are to others; this Man is an Hypocrite to himself: For he seems to himself, what he is not; and if he be any thing so, yet he thinks him more than he is. He promises such things to himself, which neither are, nor are like to be: and busies, yea pleases himself (for the while) in his feigned Conceit, as in the real Fruition. Touching himself, he subjects, his Opinions to no Man's: and in another's Censure, he yields to none before himself. His Matter, or another's; he examines it in the balance of his own judgement; and is as impatient to remit it, as to have it contradicted. He takes Chalk, and a Coal in hand: and his White, or Black must stand. The Good Deeds he doth (as the Wrongs that are done him) he still remembers He casts to meet the benefited Party in the Street, or a Throng; and there looks for acknowledgement: And if it be so old, or were so slender, that he hath now forgot it; he yet takes occasion by the by, to put him in mind of it. He smiles to hear his own praise in another's mouth; and yet so minces thereat, as though he would seem to blush: But at length is content to yield to others Sooth-saying, before the Testimony of his own Conscience: and easily persuades him to be as they say; though they say nothing so as he is. All Men are Liars; and the Proud man most of all: for (at once) he transgresses the bounds of Modesty, and Truth: For while his own Suggestion makes him talk so largely; your own Suspicion cannot think he says truly. There's not an ill man hates his Fellow, this Man only excepted. A Drunkard accompanies a Drunkard; a Whoremonger embraces a Whoremonger; a Thief shakes hands with a Thief: one Proud man only abides not another: One Tree is not taken notice of, where the whole Wood reaches to the same height and growth. The Proud Man should not be notorious himself, could he suffer others to be as himself. Love and Kings (they say) will no Corrivals: nor can Pride (which is the Love of a man's self, and King of other evils) endure an equal. POMPEY will no Mate, CAESAR will no Master. That Evil must needs exceed all, that cannot endure another should match it. He steps first into the Room, and sits him in the upper Chair; and (after some pausing, and gazing) rolls his Head upon his Elbow; and conceits with what a grace he nods toward you, speaks to you, whispers with you, smiles upon you. Not a Motion of his, not a Faculty, which smells not of Affectation. Nor so much but he Sirs, and Spits with a grace; and so he Walks, and Talks. He speaks never but with a noise; and always laughs with a kind of Derision: Commands also with Arrogance, and rebukes with Disdain. He talks all with Interrogations; as though his words were of Authority to question every thing. That you enter his Threshold, is more than a common courtesy; but that you approach his Presence, is a great vouchsafement. What shall I call him? A THRASO, a POLYPHEMUS? To whom shall I liken him? To MAXIMINUS, that made his Senators kiss his feet? to DOMITIAN, that would be styled a God? or to those diverse POPES, that were guilty of both? or to LUCIFER, the Father of them all? To what shall I compare him? But to a Cock, that claps, and crows upon his own Dunghill; a Peacock that ruffles in his own Feathers; a Toad that swells with his own poison; an Ass that hath gotten on a Lion's skin, and now he is a Companion for none, but such as he seems; an Ape that is enamoured of his own and ugly Puppets: a Chameleon that gapes after the Air; a Bladder full of Wind; a shallow River, and bubbling; an empty Cask, and sounding; an addle Egg, and swimming; a Thin Ear, and blasted, that out-tops the fat and full Corn; a Cypress Tree, that hath fair Leaves, but no fruit; a Wine-Bush, that never betokened good liquor; a disordered Member, swollen so big through its own Corruption. Have I now portrayed thee in thy proper colours? This Glass reflects on none beside thee: 'tis (me thinks) thy lively resemblance; look here how thou lik'st thyself. For me, I would be loath (like the Painter) to fall in love with thee, by the draught of thy picture.  
Tush! I know thee, and all thy Kin; and have been but too much acquainted with all of thine acquaintance. That old Gripe-good, that poured so long in the Dunghill; was the first that raised you all thence, and snow made you look so high. He undervalved himself to that, which now makes you overvalue yourselves. It was he, left you that which made you Lords: and you have purchased this, to think you so. But I'll tell thee; thou hast a fair House, and thinkest it a very Heaven to many Hovells: step but from thine own Gates, and see how others build more and greater, BABEL'S for their Honour. Thou canst walk so fare and wide on thine own Ground, that thou thinkest every Passenger must needs trespass upon thee: Take but the Map, and show me in what part of the World thy Land lies. Thy Bags strut with a refined and imprinted Earth, and that so swells thee: so did it not the Earth, that might have said before thee, these are Mine. These Things make thee seem a Great Man within thyself: Silly Grigge! come out of thy Pond and Mud; and thou shalt meet with overgrown conger's in the Sea. Pride is called the Worm of Riches: It is the rankness of this Weed, to produce such a Vermin. If a Man can but once get to be Wealthy, he soon learns to be Haughty: So hard it is for him not to be puffed up, that is so crambed up. He knew the difficulty, that gave the Caveat: Charge them that are rich in this World, that they be not high minded.  
Not know my Lady Goe-gay, the sprucest Dame in City, or Court? Her father was frugal, forgetting he was Caesar: but she flaunts it out, remembering she is Caesar's daughter. Me thinks I now see her, as I saw her last; how trimly decked in her purple and fine linen. She ware upon her back, to what she never laid her hands. Earth, and Worms, and Beasts, and Nations, these are, and live, and labour, for what she soils, and tears, and spends: Their Excrement, and Sweat, take care to proud her, what she scarce takes pains to put on. The good Huswife and applauded, seeketh Wool, and Flax; she layeth her hands to the Spindle, and her hands touch the Distaff: and so clothes both her, and her household. Out upon these homespun Threads! These sign like Habit, like Condition: Fare fetched, and dear bought are for our Ladies. One Country and Nation must breed, another comb, another spin, another weave, another dress, another shape out, and another trim up their wear. Alas weak Creatures! they see not their Beggary in these sundry Borrow: nor mind how frail a Carcase and vile, is shrouded under so gorgeous Happings. women's supplimentall Art, does but the rather bewray Natures Defects. Perfuming, Painting, Starching, Decking, these make some Annoyance, and Vncomelinesse, though less apparent, yet more suspected. We gaze with greediness and delight upon a curious and glorious Sepulchre; and yet notwithstanding we conceive and abhor what is within. Me thought she bore herself so nicely and demurely, as though her Body had been starched & gummed according to her . Perhaps (she carries them so answerably) she took aim by her Glass at once, to set both her Vesture, and Gesture in the right Fashion. Ah their silly Folly! that Metamorphize Nature into Art: and carry themselves more like Pictures, than like Creatures. Oh blot not out the lovely Image of God; in feigning, and framing so vain a shaping to yourselves! How she glittered (Forehead, Ears, Bosom, Wrists, and Fingers) in her Gems, jewels, Bracelets, and Rings? She likened her Lustre to the Moon, and Stars; and thought her less clay, when so bedaubed with a polished Rubbish. Who might then prise her Worth, that bore many Good men's Estates upon her little Finger? She little considered, how many Fingers were worn, and wearied; to make that one Finger shine. This is not only one of our Vanities, but one of our Superstitions; That we can (against our Reason, and Knowledge) believe that the whole substance of a great Patrimony, may be valuably transubstantiated into the Quantity of a little Stone. Gems, what are they, but Gums; or the accretions, or congelations of brighter Water and Earth? They come but from a more subtle compacted Sulphur and Mercury: and yet we think the very Heavens concurred with the Earth to their commixtion; and so the Sun left part of his shining in them. Mere notional is their value; which is in the Opinion, not in the Thing: They are worth nothing, only if you can but think them so. The Merchant's Adventure hath transported them, the Lapidaries Craft hath polished them, the vain Man's Credulity hath esteemed them, and the Rich Man's Superfluity hath enhanced them. These be but rich men's gaudy Trifles; as the painted Gewgaws be for their children. CHRIST is not put on with these Toys, and Rags. It is for such as wax wanton against CHRIST; to fashion themselves according to this World: For Godly Matrons, the old Fashion is best; Modest apparel, with shamefastness and Sobriety; not with broidered hair, or gold, or pearls, or costly array.;  
Who, Sir Lofty-lookes the Courtier? I saw him other day in his golden Fetters: and heard him make great boast of (me thought) but a glorious Misery. He hath gotten (he thinks) to be more happy than he was; and hath quite forgotten what he was. Fortune hath exalted him, and how he exalts himself? Clean contrary to the Rule; the Man thinks his Place hath graced him: and looks chief to be observed according to his place. He is grown to be better clad than his Master; yea and bears an higher mind. It is hard to be chaste in company with a Woman, to be sober at a Banquet, to be patiented in a Fray: as hard to be humble in the midst of new heaped Honours, & Preferments. How rarely doth he stoop so low; that so suddenly is rapt so high? Like a Moth, or Rat of the Palace; he hath oft and much inquired after this man's Life, that man's Office, the other man's Estate: and (after long, and earnest gaping) some, or all these are fallen into his mouth. And now he hath climbed so high on a sudden, that you would wonder he wrought not himself out of breath. To say all of such an one, in sum: Many he scorns, his Inferiors; He envies Many, his Fellows: One he soothes, his Lord; One he love's, Himself.  
But what of Captain Scape-skarre? How he stalks up and down the streets in his Shamoyse, and a Truncheon; that never ware an Harness, nor scarce can wield a Sword. O but take heed how you wrong him! He hath more Badges of his Art and Valour about him; then a side Belt, or a Buff Coat. Have you not heard of his Wounds and Scars, so many have been told of? He bids you see the Gash he got in his Forehead; and feel the Bullet, that lies in his Calf: and you must now think how he then hazarded; whereas (perhaps) he got the one as he looked back, the other as he ran away. It is a marvel he tells you not, how he stood like a Giant amidst the Pigmies: how with the blast of his first Volley, he made the Enemy quake like leaves; made them fly like Feathers; and scattered them like dust before the Wind. And you must now believe him; or else you do him the dishonour, as if you should either gainsay, or disprove him. He tells you what a monstrous leap he took when he was last in Rhodes: and if you will be pleased (for experience sake) to suppose the Place where he is, to be Rhodes; he will also give you leave to suppose the Leap. Soldiers (be they the most valiant and fortunate, that ever lifted hand or foot, for God, and their Country) lose so much of their glory; by how much their own mouths are the Trumpets of their Victory. Modesty is not less noble in a Warrior, than is valour. If he have taken the City, let his works praise him in the Gate; not his words only, when he hath now got the Town upon his back. He hath won the Field; perhaps with a greater loss: and why boasts he of a Prize, when all is too little to make amends? How says he, his Enemy is vanquished; when his own are not recovered? The Day is his; it might have been the Adversaries: and why insults he, where he might have couched? With what Glory can he boast, where he might have complained with shame enough?  
Ah but there's One of you (believe me, I could both love, and honour him; did he not save me that labour, in doing the Office to himself) No matter for his Name; You may think he is a noted Man. The Man hath good Parts and Gifts in him; you need not tell him so, he knows it well enough: you should take him for a Beast, should you think him ignorant of his own Strength: He can do well; yea, and he thinks as well of what he can do. As it was not ill for MOSES that his Face shone, and the People saw it, though himself knew it not: So were it well for us, did our light so shine before Men, that they might see our good works, and we ourselves ignorant to boast it. The Harp sounds no less sweetly, though it hear not itself: Our good Parts would be no less laudable, though ourselves took no notice of them. It is both safe and profitable unto us, that ourselves have been ignorant of our Gifts. How usual is it, to forestall our best Parts, with a fore Conceit? Many men might in time have been both Good, and Wise; had they not as yet thought them so. This hinders the Perfection of Good Parts, when we think we have attained them so soon. God, and Nature have done fair for him, and he's now not a little proud of himself. This hath God done for him, he hath wrought Good out of Evil: this hath he done unto himself, he hath wrought Evil out of Good. 'tis strange how Vice here buds from Virtue. Whereas other Vices are in the Evil; our Pride only is in the Good we have: Other Evils openly show the Worst; this Evil treacherously spoils the Best we do. This is the craft and subtlety of the Devil, that when be cannot at first prevent our Good Deeds, and Duties; he seeks to prevent them afterwards, by making us Proud of what we have done. The Virtues that destroy their several Vices; he makes in general to nourish this Vice: Prudence, justice, Fortitude, Temperance; which banish and abandon Folly, Wrong, Faintness, Riot: These nevertheless (and such others) occasion Pride, and cherish it. Of all our Virtues, this is the chiefest; not to be Proud of our Virtues. He built a School, College, Hospital; and I read his name in every Window. Tush! he hath erected him an everlasting Monument of Letters: in whose very Frontispiece, you may read at once both his Name, and Works: And you must conceive, these were not set so near together for nothing: his Name does authorise his Works; and his Works immortalize his Name. He smiles to think, how his Name is published, in the inquiry of his Works; and how his Works are graced, in the mention of his Name. He hath long learned to exhaust others, like a Bee: and now at length hath got the Are to eviscerate himself, like a Spider. Others Brood he commonly wraps in his own Clouts; with here and there a new-fangled Brat, much what like himself: and yet he hugs them above therest; and says of his own inventions; O deep Notions, and mysterious! Orare, and pious Thoughts! Oh how it tickles him to re-repeat the Line, and Saying, he hath couched so Emphatically! when as (perhaps) you can scarce conceive it to be so much as sensibly digested. Just like a fantastic Musician, he chief pleases himself; while he leaves the Grounds, to run upon his Voluntaries. How readily, and rashly, do we broach our own Opinions? how largely paraphrase upon our own Fancies? yea, we make them ours also; which be no other, than have been said, or thought, save somewhat otherwise. That we have made a bare shift to clad, or cloak another; this is enough to own it to ourselves. The Author boasts what curious Thread he hath so cunningly woven from out himself, nor (for his Matter, or Method) hath he the least hint from another. The Translator tells you, 'tis fare more tedious to confine his wits to construction, than to enlarge them to Invention. He brags of the Foreigners Learning, and Devotion; together with his narrow inquiry of his Words, and mind: and now he compares his Turned Coat (though in many places threadbare, motheaten, fusty;) to any fresh, and fair, spotless, yea seamelesse Garment. Briefly, be it in things of our own, or others; If our knowledge be a little beside others; even they must know it, whose knowledge is fare beyond our own. Nay, but he is now of another Mind; he is not so Prodigal, as Niggardly of what he knows. Away (says he) with these shallow Cestornes, with these empty Channels; that hold so little, and pour out so fast: Give me only the Gulf of Learning, and a Devourer of Books. I cannot tell what you would say he may be; but he will not (he says) be a Fool in Print. He upbraids him with Folly, that thinks himself knows nothing, unless others know what he knows: and thinks it his own Discretion, not to communicate his knowledge unto Fools. No; As Learning (he thinks) began: ganue: so he'll have it end in himself: For (so he persuades him) he knows so much; that in him knowledge both lives, and dies. The knowledge that this man hath, he will not vent it out: no marvel than it be found in this man, as is said; Knowledge puffeth up.  
But of all your lofty Crew; have you heard of him, that is proud of this; That he is not proud? One that glories vainly, even in the Contempt of Vainglory. You have many of his Sect, and Sort: He seems lowly, but he grudges to be despised; He cares not to bepoore, but he is loath to want: He goes barely, fares hardly, lies coldly; an holy Man (I wis) and mortified! but that he boasts as much of this, as you could of the Contrary. A feigned Humility, puffs up more, than a noted Pride: and is so much the more evil and edious, as it seems to be otherwise. Tush man! (be he as thou wouldst think, another to thyself) I can as well see his Proud Heart through his torn Coat; as thine through thy slashed Doublet. Thou proudly abhorrest his sordid rags; he also spurns and tramples thy gay Garments; and with another kind of Pride. Thy Ambition urges thee to give; and he refuses thy Gift, for he also hath his Ambition. Boast thou before him; Thou art Alexander the King: and he'll brag with thee; he's Diogenes the Dog. Pride is not always from endowments within; nor yet from outward Accruments. A proud Heart oft goes together with a Beggar's Purse and Coat.  
I'll now tell thee of One thou knowest not: Heed him well; thou yet knowest not him whom thou seest. I tell thee (choose thee whether thou think me so; my aim is, that thou be so thyself) I am not Proud: And good reason why; I have nothing, I know nothing to be Proud of. Riches, what are they; but a spreading, a moving, a glittering Earth? Hardly, and evilly gotten; doubtful to keep, and dangerous; soon, and sorrowfully lost. Honour, what is it; but an imposed, rather a supposed Hight, and Deem? a mere nothing in itself; but only is more, or less, as others reckon it. Men are like Counters, all of the same mould, & stamp: only when we cast up their account, we number them from a Farthing, to a Pound. What is Beauty, but a Superficies of Colour, and Proportion; or a shadowed Shape, and Hue? a red clay mingled with Snow: A Flower, which (ere it yet flourishes) is prone to fade: Crop it untimely, and it lours while you look upon it; Let it stand a while, and it withers upon the stalk: The Frost of a Fever makes it droop downwards; and an aged Winter makes it quite whither away. What is Strength & Stoutness, but a stiffer Compact, or more  Couchednesse of the joints, and Blood? which (say Art, nor Might can yet subdue) Sickness, Age, or Death will once enfeeble. I have seen a Feather and a Wall more beauteous than a Woman: and know an Ox, or an Oak, to be stronger than a Man. A Lion will outstand a Man, a Tiger outrun him, a Stag out-leap him, a Dolphin out-swimme him: It is great Folly, to be Proud of those Parts of ours; which the very Beasts have not only with us, but before us. And for Learning and Knowledge, what is it, but an insight of our Ignorance; letting us know only, that we know nothing? I will ask him, that knows the most, and applies it to the best; Who knows all Things? Who is wise at all Times? The most he knows, is not the least of that he knows not. And can we be Proud of these things of ours, which either are not ours, or are not? These best things of Nature, Industry, Fortune, how can we call them ours, and kiss our own Hands for them; when as they can neither get, nor keep them to us? What we here arrogate to ourselves, we steal from God. Oh wretched Man, and thankless! What hast thou, thou canst call thine own, but Evil? God gives thee all that thou art, and hast beside: Let the Giver have the glory of his Gifts. Why is thy heart so puffed up within thee, and thy Brother so despised in thine Eyes? Who maketh thee to differ from another? and what hast thou, that thou didst not receive? Now if thou didst receive it; why dost thou glory, as if thou hadst not received it? Thou art more Rich, Great, Fair, Strong, Wise, and Holy, than he; yea, but he is more humble. God thinks better of an humble Sinner, than of a Just man proud. Be he never so Good; God thinks the worse of him, for that he thinks the beteer of himself.  
It scars me quite for climbing so high; when I consider, that he who first ventured himself, and now urges others, fell so low. He now and then spurs me on to come after him: but (by his leave, or rather in his despite) I hold it easier and safer to sit still; than to rise up and fall. He hazards that climbs up the Hill; he that couches in the Dale, hath not whence to fall. It is for Goats to clammer up the Mountains; I am a Sheep, and can content me to graze in the Valleys. Yet am I not so sheepish, to losh into the Ditch, because the Bell-wether hath ventured: Shall I rush after him, as though I did only mind his Going, but not understand his Drowning? Let Satan Keep his poison to himself; or drink his draught to Fiends, not Men. Shall I pledge him in his Cup, whereof (I know) he at first tasted, and perished? The Devil (I perceive) was well enough if he could have kept him so: He once was (as it were) enthroned on high; he now is imprisoned below: was once not an Angel only, but the Prince of Angels; is now both a Devil, and the Prince of Devils: Was once more fair than the Sun, is now as black as Hell: Was once a Spirit true, and pure; is now a lying, and unclean Spirit. I will not pity, but scorn him rather: How art thou fallen from Heaven (O Lucifer) Son of the Morning? And will rejoice to hear, and believe the Witness of his Destruction: I beheld Satan, as Lightning, fall from Heaven. If I may give the Devil his Doom; He is worthily thrown lower, that would have attempted higher than can be imagined: An Hell is too good for him, that would have usurped an Heaven: He merits to be confounded to Nothing that so insulted against All things. Did he (think you) so ambitiously affect a Deity? Certainly, Diabolisme was too little for him. Surely, No finite Creature can be capable of so infinite an Evil; as to arrogate and attempt Divine Majesty to itself. I rather think (than he envied the Majesty to the Creator) be envied the Perfection to the Creature; and gloried in his own. He saw he was a goodly Thing, and mighty; & thought he was so of himself, and none was so beside him: Others he deemed subject, and himself only independent. He ought at first to have acknowledged his maker; but he than gloried in himself. The height then of Satan's Am●…tion, was not so much a rebellious attempt to be like God; as a Stubborn neglect rather, to be thankful to God, for what he was. And what higher Contempt could he have imagined, then so Proud a Neglect? This therefore exiled him his blessed and perfect Seat, and State: and made him (of all Creatures) the most evil and accursed. His Pride threw Satan out of Heaven, and made him a Devil of an Angel: Our Pride also will press us down to Hell, and make us Fiends of Men. He that endured not Pride in Angels; how shall he suffer it in Men? How shall Dust and Ashes be lifted up, without Consusion: sith this Principality gloried not, but to his Shame?  
Of all Sins, God hates, and plagues Pride; as the Pride of Sins. There was no Sin before Pride; no Sin now without it: Since every Sin is a proud rebellion against the Will of God. What can be more Proud, than to live against his Will, by whose will we live? What more unthankful, than to despise his commands; which commands, not only that he may be known to rule, but rather that he may take occasion to reward? Nothing opposeth God more than Pride; GOD therefore (of all) Resisteth the Proud. This made him set his Face against all his Creatures, for enil. He therefore cast LUCIFER our of Heaven, ADAM out of Paradise, the Builders out of BABEL, HAGAR out of his Master's house, JEZABEL out of the Window, SAUL out of his Kingdom, NABUCHADNEZZAR out of his Condition, HEROD out of his Life: He therefore cast CORE and his Company into the Earth, HAMAN into the Air, PHARAOH and his Host into the Water, and the SODOMITES into the Fire: He therefore cast JEZABEL to the Dogs, the BETHEL Children to the Bears, and the envious Lords unto the Lions. All Gods Creatures fight for him, when he sets himself to resist the Proud. God is Lord over Man, more than Man is Lord over the Creatures: Nor are the Creatures bound to serve Man, longer than Man serves God: If he will be so proud, as to kick against him that is his Maker; they will be so bold as to strive against him that should be their Master. The big and lofty Creatures; Buildings, Trees, Mountains, Rocks; these all are obnoxious to every Tempest, and Thundering: while the low and little shrimps and Shrubs, shroud and stand secure: These are dashed, and These encouraged by him; that putteth down the Mighty from their Seat, and exalteth them of low degree. Pride (we say) will have a Fall: This is but the Ladder by which Men climb to Ruin: This but lifts men up, to cast them down the more violently & desperately. When you see a Proud Man near, think judgement not fare off. Where there is Pride in the heart, there is certainly a plague at his heels: Yet a little while, and the Flourishing Bay is gone. Big Trees stand seldom till they whither; but are rather blown or hewn down before.  
Yea but I am humble; Nor is it thanks-worthy, that I am little in mine own eyes. since One greater than I made himself of no account. How can we make us low enough; since He whose shoe latchet we are not worthy to unloose, humbled himself at our Feet? How can vileness be puffed up; since He that was Great beyond estimation, made himself of no esteem? It is humility enough with us, that we subject us to our Superiors, and prefer us not before our Equals; but too much (we count) to subject us to our Equals, and not prefer us fore our Inferiors: But (O wondrous Humility!) He subjected him to Inferiors, who among Men and Angels had no Equals. He bowed the Heavens, when he humbled himself to our Life; He bowed the Head, when he humbled himself to our Death. Odious was our Pride, the Pride of the Sons of Men: That could not be cleansed, not be healed, but by so rare Humility, the Humility of the Son of God. Why are we puffed; for whom our Saviour was so emptied, why so lifted, for whom he became so prostrate? What Worm of Earth can be lifted up, when the God of Heaven was brought so low? We that are base, to what can we be abased; when He was humbled that was so high? Oh Dust and Ashes! learn to contemn thyself; for whom the God of Spirits was despised. Learn of him that was humbled, not only for thy Pride; but to make thee humble. Oh learn of him, that saith; Learn of me; for I am meek and lowly in heart.  
I wonder not that the Devil was so proud; for he was an Angel bright, and perfect: But it makes me start and gaze, to see Man so; that is but Dung, vile & vanishing away. The Devil had more to be proud of than hath Man: yet Man will be as proud as the Devil. What is Man, thus to forget, thus to transgress his own Condition? Did he seriously consider himself, this would make him keep warily within himself; at least, not step so lavishly beyond himself. Why liftest thou up thyself (O Man!) when thyself is enough to pull thee down? Art thou not wretched, mortal, evil? Thy black Feet will bow thy stiff neck, notwithstanding thy white Feathers. What art thou but a Shadow, a Sepulchre, a Statue, a Glass, a Bubble, a Blast, Dung, Dust, and Ashes, Wormsmeat; a crazy Body, and full of Corruption, a cankered Soul, and Fraught with evil: whose Being, no Being; whose Life, no Life; whose Life is gone, or going; whose Death is coming, and will come. And now (Earth and Ashes!) how art thou puffed up; whose Nature, and Let it is to settle, and sink? What should a Giant do in a Dwarf; or so high a mind in so vile a carcase? The Sergeant, Pursuivant, Catch-poll of the Great King; that knocketh at the door of Young and Old, high and low, rich and poor, that equals Sceptres and Spades, Iron and Straw, Books and Babbles: She turns Beauty into Blackness, Strength into weakness, Wisdom into Folly, and lays Honour in the Dust. Dig up the Beggar's Grave, open the Prince's Tomb; view well both their Skulls, and see how like they look: compare their Dust, and thou shalt find no difference. Why doth Man (in his life) so proudly prefer himself to the Most, and Best: whom Death shall once equal to the Least, and Last? No man is proud, but he that is ignorant of himself. Know then (O Man) at once, and contemn thyself: Know whence thou wert, what thou art, and whither thou must: Whence thou wert, from a muddy Slime; What thou art, a rotten Dung; Wither thou must, to the place of Dust and Worms. In all that was, or is, or is to come; here's nothing to be proud of. How can he be proud of himself; whose Birth is a pollution, whose life is a Desolation, whose Death is a Corruption? our Life is but a step to Death; or many Deaths to one Death: Youth is the death of Infancy; why then are we proud in the Toys of our Infancy? Manhood is the Death of Youth; why then are we proud in the pleasures of our Youth? Age is the Death of Manhood; why then are we proud in the strength ofour Manhood? Decrepitness is the Death of Age; why then are we proud in the wisdom of our Age? Lastly, Death is the Death of all, why then are we proud of any?  
Tush! what of all this? Thou now thinkest never the worse of thyself, for what thou shalt be. Tell thee (thou fairest) not what thou wert, or must be; but what thou art. It's all one for that: what thou hast, thou meanest to make much of it, while thou hast it. Go to Great-Heart; thou wilt (ere long) be lessened. Be proud yet awhile of thyself: where shall once be thyself, or Pride? Do, do; Outgaze Heaven till Earth gape for thee: and spurn Men, till Men tread upon thee. Then shall they perceive thee to be as vile; as thou couldst conceive of them. Yea, when thine Honour, Wisdom, Beauty, Strength; shall be sown in Weakness, Horror, Folly, and Dishonour: Thus shall they entomb and entitle thee at once.  
GOod Reader know,  
That comest nigh;  
Here lies he low,  
That looked so high.  
Both poor, and naked;  
That was gay clothed:  
Of all forsaked,  
Who others loathed.  
He once thought all  
Envied his Worth:  
Nor Great, nor Small,  
Now grudge his Turf.  
The Heavenly Cope  
Was his Ambition:  
Three Cubits scope  
Is his Fruition.  
He was above all;  
God above him:  
He did not lone all;  
Nor God love him.  
He that him taught,  
First to aspire:  
Now hath him caught,  
And pays his hire.   

The Jrefull, OR Angry.  
But whither Sir Hotspur? what, all in haste? A word (I pray) and you will; yet not (as you use) a word and a blow. Come prithee, let me walk thee a while, to cool thee. Spur not on too fast; thou'lt either jade, or stable thyself. I conceive thee, and can prescribe. Perhaps, thou hast not the wit to reckon the Greek letters; not the Grace (perhaps) to repeat the Lords Prayer: yet (may be) the leisure to take a Turn. In good sadness, thou art angry; something now aileth thee. Something? The Fool (sure) hath more wit, than to be angry for nothing. One (thou sayest) hath wronged, and urged thee: Hark a while, and thou shalt hear him say no less of thee; than thou now of him. Men are wont to accuse others, when themselves are in fault. The Angry man (especially) is seldom but guilty of his own allegations, and Complaints: and oft times wrongs another, in What he says, in that he says, another hath wronged him.  
Nought but a glance, a puff, a snuff, a frown, a shoulder, a ? and (beside these flouts and scorns) neither stay, nor speak? Thus are our Passions hot upon their bend pursuit: thus disdainful at their least opposition: thus careless of the best advice. Bid him stay, and be advised. You had as good say nothing: He is resolutely bend upon his rules (I know) which he as ill understands, as follows: That he ought not to be wronged: That he ought to be satisfied for the wrong.  
Surely the man is lost, or lacking; and is wholly bend and busied, to seek and overtake himself. Or rather, is so taken up with himself on a sudden; that he yet hath no leisure to take up himself. He drives on very furiously, and most stiffly bestirs his stumps: and yet (I warrant him) cha●es as fast, as he posts; because his feet are so sluggish and unwieldy, that they make no more haste to bring many his other members into action. His spleen which cannot so soon burst out against another, now boyles and bubbles within himself. Out ugly Hags, and Bell-dame Witches of our Minds, and Souls! rebels to Reason, and enemies to Sense How do ye possess, and mishap us? With what sophisticating dregges of Exorbitancy do ye scar us from ourselves: and hurry us headlong to that inconvenience, which we seldom warily recover; but which we rather shamefully repent too late? If these Tempests hoist and toss us, we rarely recover our harbour; but our Ship is either swallowed of gulfs, buried in the waves, or split upon the rocks. Our Affections (for they have their Office in us, without their Fault) become chaste Handmaids to our Minds, while carefully and discreetly curbed and awed: but give them leave, and Liberty, and they turn inordinate Prostitutes to our lusts. Sat close to the Stern, and let these only apply their own Oars; and the Ship sails with a merry gale, and prosperous: But let lose the Reins, and (as untamed Horses) they hurry along; and at last they throw their Rider. Fire is a good Servant, but a bad Master; useful upon the hearth, but hurtful beyond the bounds: Such are our fiery Affections also: we are not Tyrants, but must be masters over them: we cannot root them, we must restrain them. Let HAGAR sit about SARAH, and she'll stir contention in the whole House of ABRAHAM. That these Bond Huswives (our Affections) usurp over Reason, that Free Matron, is enough to disturb and distract the whole Man. These are the troubled waters, in which we cannot see our faces, and shapes: nay, in which we wallow purposely, that we may not see them. These are the dusky Clouds, that obscure the Sun of our little world, our Reason. If these boisterous Winds get head against us; they trouble our Sea, perplex our Pilot, split our Ship, and drive us all to wrack. But I say no more to myself. We may bewail ourselves in Others; it is in vain, that we warn Others within ourselves. Have after the Haslting; nay, have at him with an encounter as resolute, as speedy.  
But soft; not too near him. The man turns big, and sour upon me. He seemed Impatient at the first; and now grows Furious at a next affront. Anger is wont to resistand assault those it meets with, as those it aims at: and grows as short against the mean occurrences, as against the main Opposite. See, see! he's all on a froth and fume. Look on him well, and like him worse. His Head startles, Hairs bristle, Brows wrinkle, Eyes sparkle, Teeth chatter, Tongue stammers, lips quaver, joints tremble, Hands clap, Finger's twitter, Feet wander: His Blood rises, Stomach fills, veins swell; His Heart burns, Breast boyles, Breath shortens, and his Colour goes and comes: Now red as fire, now pale as a clout; now rashly hot and flaming, now fearfully won and i'll. What uncouth alterations of Mind? Did you ever see such frantic antic gestures of Body? In this Glass (I warn you all) behold, and abhor yourselves. Did he here also see himself, he would scarce know himself; yet scarce that, ere loathe himself. The Man quite mars a good Face of his own. How uncomely and loathsome is his Mind now (could you mark it) that works these distempers, and distractions in his Body? He seems (me thinks) as ugly, as outrageous: and his Feature not more unseemly, than his Feats. Mark him now: Now he stands, now starts, now stamps, now Stairs, now shrugs, now scratches, now snuffs, now grins, now gapes, now wrings. Such Apish tricks, such Bedlam pranks; as you would judge him (in his Fit) either a Fool, or or madman: And who will think you other in his case? Anger is a short madness. Ah peevish passion, that thus distempers and distracts us! of all our hard and adverse Affections, the most harsh and churlish. The rest have some easement; this only will no mitigation. Fear hath some Boldness; Sorrow some joy; Despair some Hope; this Fury only hath no mercy. They move us, but this enrages: They disturb, but this confounds our quiet.  
Yet more tricks with this angry Ape? Come a loft jack: Sirrah? How do your fellow Brutes startle and bestir them in a moved mood? See the Sport: He now ramps like a Lion, bristles like a Boar, foams like a Bear, kicks like a Horse, stamps like a Bull, bushes like a Ram, grins like a Dog, scratches like a Cat, swells like a Toad, hisses like a Snake, bills like a Cock, tugs like a Goose, buzzes like a Beetle, stings like a Wasp, and now mumps and mows like himself. Nay about jacke. He now bends his brows, gnashes his teeth, scratches his head, tears his hair, beats his breast, wrings his hands, smites the post with his fist, and spurns the dust before him with his feet. The angry Ape said I? I should have said the Ape of Anger. There is no savageness of Beasts, which he here imitates not, if not exceeds. Nay, he'll follow the very Fiends in his fury. Man is in nothing more Brutish (I yet say not Devilish) than in his Anger. He is well compared, to what he so well resembles. I shall think him neither better, nor other than a Beast; that suffers his senseless passion to blind and sway the Reason of a Man. No better than a Beast? Much worse. A Beast knows not how to be angry: Anger is the Anger of a man. Man's is the sin; a Beasts is but the shadow, and shape of Anger: A Beast oft shows the violence; a Man only hath the vice thereof: Such (perhaps) seize, wound, kill; roar, and bray, bellow and bleat: yet forthwith (for all the Anger, or Sorrow) fall to Feed, or Sleep: He only hath this Ground, and Grudge within him. And hereupon, no Man but prone, no Beast but loath to be provoked: It strives still to shun, what he oft thirsts to iucurre.  
My Friend, be fair conditioned; 'tis best for you to know, and love yourself. Nay my haughty Haire-braines, 'tis no pishing, tushing, laughing, scowling, scoffing, scorning matter. Scorn thou my Pity, while I pity thy Scorn. Another hath wronged thee; alas! and alas that thou therefore wrong'st thyself: Thou needs must vex thyself, because another hath vexed thee. I had thought (however) that thou couldst not so have hated Another, as not to love thyself. But what carest thou, how thou hazards thee, to hurt him. A Bee hath stung thee, and thou'lt pull the whole Hive about thy ears: yea (silly Bee!) thyself wilt also sting, though in the loss of thy Sting, thou lose thy Life. Thou'lt throw thy Dare however, though more by that means light upon thee. It is nothing, if thou perish in his ruin. Ah silly Fencer! but naked, and yet spiteful in thy Frays; that lookest only where to hit the the other, not where to guard thyself. An angry Man is his own worst enemy; and offends none more than himself: He is often more crucified in the Thirst; than the other damnified in the Execution of Revenge. Anger is a Fury, that rightly haunts the heart, that harbours it: a Viper that worthily gnaws the womb, that doth conceive it. It is but just, that an inordinate Mind and froward, should be a Plague, a Torment, a Danger, a Destruction to itself.  
I have cast thy Water: I'll tell thee what thou feels, which (because thou feels) thou canst not tell. Thy Disease is the spice of an Ague; commonly called the Physicians Shame; which every Man is here to himself. The Ground is a choleric Humour, the Seat a naughty Stomach, the Cause a bad Digestion, of hard meats especially; the Sign a Burning, a Shaking Fit; the Effects a Distemper of the Body, and a Distraction of the Mind: the Cure is, to be let blood in a Wild Vein, to purge gently for Choler, to abstain from sharp and bitter Provocations, and apply thy stomach only with pleasant and easy Leniments. Nay if you take it not in time, before the third Fit at the furthest; it grows to more Diseases, than I can either Cure, or Count Then is it the Inflaming of the Blood, the Swimming of the Brain, the Blearing of the Eyes, the Burning of the Heart, the Belching of the Stomach, the Shaking of the Hands: Strifes Inflammation, and love's Oppilation; the Dropsy of Indignities, and Consumption of all Humanity. The Minds Ecstasy, casting Reason in a trance: the Body's Lethargy, lulling the sense asleep. Name me any thing that's bad; and it is no better. A roaring Lion, a ravening Wolf, a savage Tiger, a wild Boar, a she Bear, an untamed Beast, an unbridled Horse, an unyoked Ox, an untaught Ape: a Cloud, a Wind, a Shower, a Storm, a Sea, a Wave, a Gulf, a Rock, a Wrack; a Rack, a Pit, a Hell. All the Elements out of their element. A consuming Fire, a pestilent Air, a troubled Water, and a quaking Earth. Thus can I call it all that's bad; and what shall I say to thee? A foul evil is Anger, and egregious. There's no Evil, which it either causes not, or matches not. What Evils to Strifes, Envies, Murders? and whence are they? What Evils do men beyond it: and amongst us Men, What Evils are done beside it?  
Thou know'st (perhaps) nor it, nor thyself, by these Names of mine: or lov'st rather not to hear on't in harsh terms. I now come to thee; thus mince it with thee. It is forsooth (as you commonly call it) an Hasty nature: So; it's thus known in all: but how call you it each in other? Oh, 'tis the Soldier's Stoutness, the Minister's Earnestness, the Woman's pettishness, the Sick-man's Peevishness, the Youngman's Rashness, the Old-man's testiness, the Private-mans' Choler, and the Great man's Displeasure. Be it so in the Severalls; what is it yet in the Sum: Every man in his Humour; and yet but one Humour in every Man. Are Sins less, for the variety of Names, and Subjects? Anger may be more impotent in one than other; yet is it not less evil. We all have not our Might answerable to our Mood. It is with more Rancour, than Power, that the very Wasp stings, and Worm turns again.  
But it's good (and it be but to sharpen a man's wits) to be angry a little, now and then. Why not better, to be always more? A Good thing is not Ill, because it is more. The Thing is merely evil, whose Increase may make it worse. Virtues only know a mean: Vices have a more or less. A less Evil hath not more Benefit, but less Danger: A less Anger, is a less Evil; it therefore Profits not more, but hurts less.  
Who I angry at thee? at thy Anger rather: Nor angry at thy Anger I. It is not fitting a Fault should take upon it, to correct a Fault. Yet let me say; Zeal, and justice, reprehend and punish, with earnestness, with severity; not rage, not cruelty The Philosopher would not smite his Servant, because he was angry: nor (were I so) would I chide thee. We are not angry at him, to whom we would the Amendment of evil, together with the punishment. Is the Law therefore angry, because it convicts, the judge because he condemns, the Officer because he executes the Malefactor? It is Piety that moves here, not Infirmity. The sword of justice is not put into a Mad man's hand. Authority requires not a rash, a lawless rigour; to what a grave, and just severity can execute. Are Magistrates set for Posts, and Ciphers; idle, and immoveable? It is the Spur of their Office, that now moves them: They are angry at Enormities; the very Cause is enough, to exempt it from that Name: It is not perturbation now, but indignation. Take away this spirit and life of the Common Wealth; and each civil Society faints in dulness and heartlessness; yea groans under disorder, confusedness and ruin. These may sin, in being not angry: These may be angry and sin not: Thou both art angry, and sinnest.  
True, true; The Ant (I know) hath her gall, the Fly her spleen, and the Worm will turn again. Nature (I have learned) hath given to all Creatures a desire and endeavour to preserve themselves in their proper Being: and hence it is they so resist, or avoid whatsoever may oppose, or endanger it. Even vilest Creatures wax offended, at what may molest their peace and safety: How much rather than is the noblest Creature displeased at injuries, at indignities? A Man is worthily moved at his Friends Wrong, and his own: and a Christian (above all) at his Gods Dishonour. But what a Man is he, that will wrangle with a Worm; that will fight with a Fly; that a Mouse can move him? We have such a sort of touchy Spirits; whose Tinder hearts, apt to receive the least Spark of a Flinty offence; kindle forthwith the Match of Contention. Like Thunder and Lightning, a Crack and a Flash, a Word and a Blow, The Devil (I think.) at first extracted. Salt-Peter from their moulds and ashes: Their very Nature is Gunpowder; you can no sooner touch it, than it flies in your face. There's a Spark, all Fire and Tow; every blast of breath is the Bellowes to kindle him: and every. Block in his way, is Fuel for his Fire. He is too forward in his Frowardness, that falls out with every Thing, upon every Occasion. Say no Occasion be given him; he'll rather feign it, than want it. Say no thing oppose him he'll yet be at odds with himself. Anger is oft impatient, even of Observance: and longs to be croft, that so it may get to vent itself. Say still as he says, to soothe him; yet he'll hastily bid you (as Caelius the Senator bade his yielding Client) say somewhat against him; that so you may be known to be one beside him. he'll wrangle with you for Goat's hair, and stand against you for a Straw. Pins, and Points, are enough to set Boys together by the ears. He takes it in high disdain, you so carelessly bedashed his Doublet; and vows to be even with you, since you happed to tread upon his Toes. You have either taken the Wall, or not pledged the Health; and he must needs fight with you. He frets and fumes at his Fortune; Curses and conjures the Devil, and the Witch; bites, and burns Cards and Dice, and now he is satisfied in a silly revenge. There is no Trifle, which a Wise man cannot laugh at; or a Fool be angry at. Rather than his injuries shall be unrevenged; he'll pursue the Wasp that stung him, bawl with the Dog that barks at him, beat the Wind that blows in his face, fight with the Post that withstands him, and spurn the very Stone he stumbles at. Creatures all as insensible of his Anger and Revenge; as himself is of the Evil and Indiscretion. I have seen a Child, that fallen, full Angrily would beat the Ground: Somewhat had offended it, and it did not know what to be revenged of. Children are moved with but appearances of hurt and wrong: and likewise are appeased but with feigned strokes and tears. How Babish are we men in our Passions? We are easily angry, but at what we know not: Something seems to wrong us, and we have some desire of revenge. It is a shadow of Offence, that moves us; and a shadow of Amends, will still us. A but counterfeited Appeasement, is enough to a but conceited Indignation.  
Bid BALAAM hold his hands; and smiteno Ass, but himself. Can he neither see, nor feel; to strike so at himself through her sides? Poor Ass! she had too much of his Load; though he had spared his strokes. But he will needs stab her for stumbling. I have known such Bedlam Balaams', as would wrathfully revile and curse, furiously smite and slay their silly Beast, for but failing or falling under them; when (alas) already wearied or maimed by them. How shall I think him other than Brutish; that will match and measure his indignation to a Beast? NAAMAN snuffs, because his Physician would cure him another, and better way, than he thought. He looked he should heal him by the Sound of a word, by the Touch of a finger: had he not better Wash, and be healed by himself? He thought this was not so good; because he thought not of it. Reason would have esteemed that, which was the best: his Rashness would have that best, which he had esteemed. The Reason of ● Man always thinks what is fittest to be done: his Rashness only hastens him to do, what he ●hinkes. This Evil hath Anger also, that it will not be advised. It (while it opposes every thing) endures not any thing should oppose it. It judges after its own Fancy, and does accordingly; and will by no means be drawn from itself. The Truth is but a Tale, that gaine-sayes: and the Right does it Wrong, that oppugnes it. No man's Anger seems unjust to himself. However, it thinks better of Obstinacy, than Repentance: and will repeat rather, than recant the Evil: yea, will the rather seem to justify it, because it would not seem to accuse itself. NAAMAN therefore distasted the Waters of JORDAN; because he was only enamoured of the Rivers of DAMASOUS. Many men rashly kick at, and peevishly interpret at the worst, what is Said, or Done for the best; only because it thwarts and crosses their perverse and Obstinate Humour.  
BALAAM stomaches his Ass; and IONAS pets for his Gourd. There's no such Impatience of Men, no such Indiscretion; as to be moved at Trifles, to murmur for them. It is but Childish (you will say) to whine for Puppets. What shall I say of these? The Mind is but base like them, that some values them, to be so angry for them. A generous Horse will scorn to meddle with a bawling Cur. The vilest Natures are the most querulous and contentious: much more in vilest Things. A Fool, a Child, a Woman, a Sick man, and he that's twice a Child, (they of the feeblest Condition, Sex, and Age) name me one beside them, so easily and unadvisedly moved. Be not thou one of them, and let them be all One. So he wisely Counsels thee. Be not hasty in thy spirit to be angry: for anger resteth in the bosom of Fools.  
Have I rak't up your Subble; soon in, soon out; soon hot, soon cold? I must hammer your Wedge too, that's so long in heating, and burns so sore. The yelping Cur did but snarl and snatch, and I shaken him off: this sullen Dog will fasten hard, and bite sore (I fear me) he looks so grim. But I'll now do my best to stave him. Ha! The Madman and his sword are ill met: It were safer that the cursed Cows horns were shorter. Anger is so wretched of itself, and impotent; that it thunders it, when it hath now gotten authority and power. Take heed of him; he hath drawn his blade, and vows, not to put it up, till he be revenged: His Life (he swears) shall answer for the Wrong. Oh how he'll hack him, and hue him, the next he meets him. Do you hear him? he'll cleave his Coxcomb, bombast his hide, rattle his bones, split his heart, let out his puddings about his heels, and garter him in his guts. His blood is up; and will not settle, but in blood. Outrageous and bloody villain! ireful Hellhound, savage Tiger, Monster of Men, and Devil of Monsters. Thou goest about to revenge one, and a petty Indignity; and so offerest another, and more hateful Injury. Anger (Oh this Anger) is not an unreasonable only, but an unruly Passion. It knows neither Ground, nor Bound; while it is both Causeless, and Extreme. Cursed CAIN! look upon thy Brother, he is thy Maker's Image also; as fearfully and wonderfully made, as thyself: his bones, and hairs are as strictly numbered, and his blood more precious in his Markers Eyes. What Fury of Hell provokes thee to destroy that Image; which no art, no ability of thine can repair; no amends can acquit? Tush! what's a Death to a Dishonour? His Life shall but pay for thy Disgrace: Ah! nor thy Confusion, but for his Life.  
The LAW (when it was used at the most, and interpreted at the worst) allowed no more, than an Eye for an Eye, a Tooth for a Tooth, a Hand for a Hand, a Foot for a Foot: Stripe for Stripe, Wound for Wound; but Blood answered not but for Blood; nor but for Life, was Life required. Do I instance (thinkest thou) for thy private Retaliation of wrongs? rather against that overplus of Evil, whereby thy revenge tyrannises so fare beyond the Offence. HE, that knew best how fare that LAW did stretch, and how long it should last; now tells thee otherwise: Ye have heard that it hath been said, an eye for an eye, and a tooth for a tooth: But I say unto you, that ye resist not Evil. The Talion Law (when it was) was for public justice, not for private Revenge: Especially, sith the Revenge of a man knows no Order, holds no Equality, in his own wrong: So that commonly there is more wrong in the Revenge done, than in the Wrong received. He hath endamaged thy Goods; must thou therefore assault his Person? He hath torn thy Coat; must thou therefore tear his Flesh? He plucks thee by the Hair; wilt thou therefore pull him by the Throat? He hath blemished thy Name; and must thou therefore spoil his Life? While thou wilt be thus satisfied, for the wrong he hath done thee: what satisfaction wilt thou make him, for the wrong thou hast done? He is the more Offender himself, that seeks to avenge him about the Offence. Let it not be pleaded, whether hath first, or last: it shall be judged, whether hath most offended. Besides the Ground, and Occasion thereof; this evil hath Anger in the End, and Execution; that it is unjust. His Wrath is just alone, that shall once render to every one according to his Works. Thou wicked SERVANT, and merciless! wilt thou pull thy Fellow by the throat; and hale him to Prison, for a few Farthing Trespasses? Thy LORD shall once bind thee hand and foot, and cast thee into Utter Darkness for many Talon Offences.  
Anger is but the Devil's Wrath; and the angry Man but his Weapon: A Weapon wherewith he kills double, or two at once; ones Soul together with another's Body. Hellish Instruments of Fury are they all, to set a World in combustion; and bring themselves to confusion. What a spite is this? Thus the Devil uses Man's hand, for Man's destruction. Thus laughs the Adversary, that every man's Sword is in his Fellow's side: thus glories, that Man is his own, and others ruin. God made Man Man's God: but the Devil thus makes Man Man's Devil. Shall I turn Actor in this baleful. Tragedy of Men, and Days; and inveigh against this Fury of the World? Direful Miscreant, and hateful Monster of Hell! impatient of our Being, ireful at our Quiet, hurtful to our Safety, and dismal through all our Days! Who but SATAN did first enwombe thee? Woe, and alas! that Man did ever enbosome thee. Thy rage hath undone more Lives, than the force of Death hath dissolved. Thou Plague of Mankind ●hat hast cost them such measureless, such numberless, Blood and Wounds. Not Tigers, not Dogs, not Vipers, but Men, ah Men are grown the impatient, the froward, and stubborn Generation: thus untowardly do they degenerate from themselves. The Lion, the Bear, the Wolf; feed on the Hart, the Ass, the Sheep: but Man thirsteth after Man's blood, and the greedy Cannibal gluts himself with Man's flesh. Ask why he is so hengry? It is because he is so angry at his Fare: It is his Fury that provokes him to that Dogged Appetite; and gets him such a Stomach to it. Revenge is but the Executioner of all those Cruelties, whereof Anger is the first Inventor: That but the Practitioner, this the Engineer. Whence come Stabbling, Strangling, Poisonings, and rueful Macerating? This first taught, and urged, to dig out a man's Eyes, to slit his Nose, to cut out his Tongue, to hue off his hands, to carbonate his Flesh, and shiver his Bones. Yet more, and worse; Because it will not do a Man the Favour to dispatch him: it studies to put him to as many Deaths, as Wounds: and thinks that if be perish other, or sooner than it would; that he hath as good as escaped, in comparison to what it meant him. divers hath this Evil diversely surprised and ruined. One in his Bed, another at his Table, another on his Way, another in the Church. Not Time, Place, Persons, Occasions, can forbid Angers rash and raging attempts. Widows and Orphans, Young and Old, lament and curse this Evil; since it untimely took away the Husband from the Wife of his bosom, the Parent from the tender Infant's head, the staff of his age from the aged Father. What say I thus of some? This Firebrand of the World, hath set all Nations together by the ears, hath dilapidated whole Cities, depopulated whole countries: hath made mountains of Carcases, Rivers of Blood, and Mists of gasping Breathes: Outrageous Hag, and odious! had the World but one Head; she (with Caligula) would strike it off at a blow: So she might see the whole Fabric in a flame; she (Nero-like) would not grudge her ashes to a second Chaos. This evil hath Anger thought, and done; and would yet do more: It never but had a desire, above the power; a thirst, beyond the practice of revenge. Yet it thunders, though it now can dart no more: having done the utmost spite and rage, it yet will threaten worse. Thus (as followeth) have the Furious vowed and sworn against the lives of their Adversaries: To give their Carcases to the Beasts of the field, to the Fowls of the air; to strew their ashes upon the Sea; to make them they shall neither know, nor say who hurt them; not to leave so much as one, to carry news of the rest: That he'll make them eat their own dung, and drink their own stolen; that not their God shall deliver them out of his hands: That he means to ply them with Powder and Pellets, as thick as mist and hail; that he'll tread their Gray-hairs to their well nigh returned dust; strangle the Infant in the Parent's eye, and arm; spoil their Virgins, rip up their Big, bereave their Mothers; Make their Men to draw in his Wagons, to grind in his Mills, to dig in his Mines: Their Prince's necks shall be but his Footstools; and their Youngman's backs but the Asses for his loads: Thus roar the Lions, thus hisse the Serpents, thus bark the Dogs. Nought but spew out their rancour, but breath out revenge. These have (I mark) most commonly gone together (I would like Fellows to the Gallows) the Angry, and the bloody minded. Murder was the first fruits of Anger, CAIN rose up in a Fury against his Brother, and slew him. So, the Brethren in iniquity: What of them? Fearful! and to be detested: In their Anger they slew a man: And therefore (may such other, far no better) Cursed be their Anger, for it was fierce; and their Wrath, for it was Cruel. As for me, (and so says every harmless Spirit) O my soul! come not thou into their secret: unto their assembly (mine Honour!) be not thou united.  
There's yet an old Bear to bait: I would he were blind, or toothless; it would be good sport to whip him. What must he such haling to the stake? As loath as he is to come thither; I would be loath to trust him there. That bubbling Brook was more turbulent: but this still and standing Lake is more violent; Old Anger (I mean) which makes up the slowness, in the weight of Ire. A Monster of a tedious breeding, of an unfortunate birth; a Serpent of a Difficult hatch, and dangerous; an ill Liquor that being kept too long, hath tarted and tainted the Cask; a Pool that hath formerly been stirred, and yet can find no time to settle: a Lion that long couches, and slumbers sullenly; yet rouzes him in the end, and roars hideously: a Fire that having long lain smothered, breaks out at last into a fierce and furious flame: a mote at first, that offends; a Beam at last, that blinds the eye. Comparisons are not here more odious, than is the Vice. Liken (and you will) the growth of this ill Weed, to any thing that waxeth worse.  
Mark how to stint, and stop it. Crush the Cockatrice in the Egg, push the Scorpion in the shell, hunt the Young Foxes, while they are yet but petty Cubs; take the Small Brat, and dash his head against a stone. Anger is a disease, with more ease, and honesty, prevented; than recovered. This Fury doth, as do many wild Beasts, and Serpents, namely, change their Names, as they grow in bigness, and years. In the infancy, they call it Haste, and Passion; in the Youth, Anger and Choler; in the Growth, Ire, and Wrath; in the Old Age, Hatred and Malice. Thus do I distinguish the Age; wilt thou I also determine it; Anger is then Old, when it life's above a Day. It than life's too long, when it survives the Ephemeron: which (they say) life's no longer; than I said Anger ought to live. He that bids You Let not the Sun go down upon thy Wrath; forbids withal, you should let the Sun (gone down) to rise upon it. Two Suns are too many for an Angry man to see. Accession of days adds unto this Evil. Haste is so turned battered; For so is it defined. Hatred is anaged, and strengthened Anger: and Anger doubled by days, and degrees. Hatred (for so I now call it) having taken long and deep root in the hearts of Men, is not readily & easily weeded thence. A man's love oft turns to hate; his Hate seldom returns to Love.. Implacable man, and impious! His evil lasts with his Life: Nay, when he is dead, it will be a Question (as was of Sylla) whether He, or his Anger died soon? They story Some to have hated so while they lived; that dead, and burned together, their flame notwithstanding was divided: And Others, who slain together, their blood refused to be mingled. The Sin of a Man outlives himself: this Sin especially. A Good man's Anger (they say) is soon dead: but a bad Man (I see) is sooner dead, than his Anger.  
How cam'st thou (prithee) to be so choleric? The Man (I know well) hath it by Kin, it cost him nought. I was saying, the Hate and Ire of Men lived, when Men were dead. I cannot say, their Hate life's with the Dead: I have noted, the Dead have derived their hatred to the Living (I speak not of Enmity betwixt Nation and Nation; so mutual, so continual.) The Man hates, the Son hates: and why? his Friend, or Father hated formerly. He but evilly succeeds, that will be heir also to his Father's evils. There is observed a natural Antipathy, an hidden Enmity, or inbred Auersenesse betwixt Trees and Trees; as betwixt the Oak and the Olive, the Vine and the Cole-wort: betwixt Beasts and Beasts; as betwixt the Elephant and the Dragon, the Panther and Hyaena: betwixt Serpent and Serpent, the Spider and the Toad: Bird and Bird; the Eagle & the Wren, the Owl and other Birds: Fishes & Fishes; the Lamprey and the Conger, and the two great Fishes call Orca and Balana. No such innate and contrary Qualities are observed betwixt Man and Man: though indeed, the succession of Hatred would give to note (as it were) a natural Antipathy betwixt them. We know, and say it is their Vice, however they would make us believe it is their Nature that sets them at so cominuall odds. Hark, O Man? thou that at once proceedest from thy Father's Flesh, and Frowardness: that this kest thou dageneratest from his Stock, if from his Vice: There was never but one Enmity worthy, yea necessary the propagating; even that, which God (at first) provoked, and proclaimed irreconcilable: I will put Enmity between thee, and the Woman; and between thy Seed, and her Seed. Ah thou Traitor to thy God, and Foe to thine own Soul! why makest thou a Covenant with thine, and thy forefather's Adversary? That mortal jar was only to be derived to Succession. How many Sons have vindicated their Father's wrongs to the full? Even successions of Families have continued the Strife and Debate, their forefathers began betwixt their Houses. Alas! that an ISRAELITE grudges at, and strives with an ISRAELITE (a Man with a Man, a Christian with a Christian) And yet rather suffers any Injury, and Slavery; than break an hard Covenant, a seared Peace with PHARAOH, the Devil. O all ye cankered Sons of ADAM! Imps together of his Loins, and Lusts: How is it ye have forgotten the Old Quarrel, which though it began in your First Father; yet it equally concerns yourselves? You have an Adversary to you all; why wrangle, and struggle ye, one with a nother? Were you not joined to him; you could not thus be divided against yourselves!  
Me thinks, I should (by this) make thee angry at nothing but thine Anger. If Anger (as I have said) be a Passion so inordinate, unseemly, Brutish, Pusillanimous, Envious and mischievous; if it have neither Ground, nor End; if neither Delight, nor Gain; if it obscure Reason, and exclude Grace; if it be detestable to God, Distasteful to Man, and Prejudicial to himself; What Wise man, and Good, will now be anger; Had Anger either Pleasure, or Profit in it; there were some enticement to it: But Anger is an Evil, every ways so evil; that it carries no colour for its entertainment. It is by a show of profit, or Delight; that other Sins insinuate: this sin of Anger only, intrudes upon a Man, with palpable vexation, and loss.  
Yea, but thou canst temper thyself, and take up thine Anger in time; and check it, ere it rush into these rash, and rigorous Exorbitances. Tell me; hadst thou not better quite exclude it; than (having admitted it) now busy, and trouble thyself, to guide it? It is safer to keep out, than get out of a Fray: and better not to hazard the Disease, than presume upon the Remedy. The Courser (by your leave) is not so soon taken up; when now on his race, now in his speed: The Rock is steep, and thou art heady; how readily, and easily, dost thou now fall past recovery? Thy Sea is troubled, thy Ship is tossed, Anger sits Pilot; and (ere thou thinkest on an Anchor, an Harbour) behold a Wrack. A man may with more ease forbidden his Anger; than he can command it: with more safety may he prevent it, than recall it. The Entrance of many things are in our hands, but not their Issue. While yet it is not, Anger is the power of the Man: when it now is, the Man is in the power of his Anger Set Anger once on foot, and it runs, not so fare as you will let it; but will hale you rather as fare as it list. I cannot but smile, thou'lt needs account thee Captain, and This thy common Soldier; to fight under thee, for thee: Led him warily on, he'll scarce come fairly off. While thou'lt sit judge, to pass the Sentence; and make it thy Crier, to put thee in mind, and mood: be wise; thou mayst soon condemn thyself.  
How Man? Call and account thee a Coward, an Ass, an Idiot, a Block, a Stoic, a Stock? And why? because thou wantest an Heart, a Spirit, the Valour, the Courage, to be angry at them; to check and curb in thy Fury, the Indignities they do thee. Tell them (and thou wilt) from me; They only are so; that so say; so think. What a Madness of Men is this, and Folly of theirs? Are we therefore senseless, because not impatient of our Wrongs? Base minds! thus to play upon not Patience. It is for Fools, and Peasants, to judge them sottish; whom they find not peevish: For Knaves, and Villains, to do him the next Wrong; because he so calmly put up the first. I tell thee, (and so say) the Best, and Wisest) Anger adds Courage to no Man, that is not so without it; But rather, basely enthralls him to another's Power, and Mercy; while he is not in his own. Than the Peevish, none more Slavish: So base an Affection, lurks not but in basest breast. Vilest wretches are the rather moved; because they would, but cannot be revenged. What thinkest thou of the Body, that yelpes and yexes, at any small push, at every sudden motion? is it not too too crazy? To cry out you hurt it, when you scarce touch it. Verily, the Mind is as corrupted and cankered, as the Body ulcerous; to shrink and shrike, at every push and prick. To stumble, and wrangle at every Offence; argues but the Mind wretched, and infirm. I never saw any Man in this case; whom I judged not Boyish, Womanish, Foolish, Sickish, or (at least) Old and Peevish. Now on the contrary: None so magnanimous (in my mind) as he that forgetteth injuries. Nor am I of another mind, than the Wise Man: It is the glory of a Man, to pass over a Transgression. It must needs be a right noble mind he bears; that he can, but scorns to be revenged. A Man is a Lord in his Favour: in his Anger is Man but a Slave. He hath fought a stout, and stately Fight; that hath subdued his Affections. I will ever think the best of such an one, and speak no worse. Bold Heart, and Brave! that hath already kerbed his Passions, and cured them to a scar: having only remaining in himself, but as it were the Shadows, and Suspicions of his Affections. But a Coward is he (will I be bold to tell him) and base! that (could he win a World) cannot here conquer himself.  
Thus much I of Thee; and (unless better) too much. Now hear me of myself. Credit me; I either so am, or (at least) would be so; as I now will show me to thee, though so I boast me not. It is Honesty, and but Modesty, that we would so set forth ourselves; as willing Patterns, for others to imitate: and not as idle Pictures only, to be gazed at.  
I am not (Feather-like) stirred and tossed at every puff and blast of Discontent: but strive rather to stand steadfast (as a Pillar) maugre the winds and storms of injury, and offences. I set me like a stayed Rock, to repel their surging, urging Waves: and (like a Wall of Marble) retort their angry darts into their own faces and throats. Men shall see my Contempt, in a no notice of theirs. Though he would acknowledge his Offence; I will (with Cato) not so much as acknowledge me offended. This is a staidness, is an Happiness of our Minds; that we deign not to answer Fools in their Folly. You ask me, why I do not requite the Wrong? I answer, because I feel it not. No wrong (as I take it) is done to him, that will not take it to himself. I take Wrong, as Honour: Honour is not in him, that is honoured; but in him that honours: nor is Wrong in him that hath, but in him that doth the Wrong. Me thinks, A man's Revenge is but the Confession, or the complaint of his own vexation. Mine then would but tell them, how they have troubled me. And vile Minds (I know) will the rather do it, when they know how to vex me. It is enough to me; I may, but will not quit the evil. He that will still do all he can; it were better he sometimes could do nothing.  
Shall I (like my Dog) bark and bawl at the first push or rush; not knowing whether it be my Friend or Foe that knocks at my door? There's no greater Folly, than to be angry at we know not whom; and for we know not what. Or, will I bawl with the Dog that barks at me? There's no folly, to the interchange of spiteful speeches. The Tongue (I know) provokes more than the Hand: and Men are apt to stomach rather what is Said, than what is done against them. I will not blow the coals of Ire with bitter Words: my soft Answer shall rather strive to appease his Wrath. Nor (when it is passed) shall he boast how he awed me, in my present yeeldance: sith I so guided him; that had neither the wit nor power, to rule himself. It is not Awe, but Discretion to forbear a Foole.  
I smile at BALAAM, that could be so angry at his Ass: and think, whether was more brutish, her Condition, or his Affection? He is but a Brute himself, that thus will match himself against a Brute. I laugh to read the angry Letter Xerxes wrote against the Mountain Athos: threatening it that (unless it would make way to his Forces, and Designs) he would hue it down, dig it up, and cast it into the Sea. Was not he a bold champion, that durst menace, and make unto himself, so huge an Antagonist? It still moves my Diaphragme, what once moved the spleen of Cyrus; that he vowed in a rage, (and accordingly achieved) to drean the profound River Gyndes, so that Women and Children might go dry-shod in it: and all was, because the base and unmannerly Billows presumed to beat in the King's face; and spared not to drown one of his Majesty's Coach-horses. While he thus laboured to make it not a River; I would thus have judged, he made himself not a Man. It is a ridiculous Folly of Men, to wreak their Anger upon such Things; as neither can feel it, nor do deserve it. I shall think that Man out of his right mind, that is angry at that thing, which never had a mind to offend him; no nor had a Mind. Brute Things and inanimate, may have the Hap to hurt us; they have no Will to wrong us. Ha', ha'; will a man be no wiser than his Dog, to snarl and snatch at the stone, because it is fling at him? I abhor the unequal Ire of Pollio, that condemned his Slave to be devoured of his Lampreyes'; for but the casual breach of a Crystal Glass: and applaud withal the just displeasure of Augustus, that therefore caused all his glasses to be broken, and his Devourers to be stifled. It was good the vilest Dust should choke them, whom the noblest Flesh should but have satisfied. Ah the lightness of such Men! whom such light things, and occasions can provoke. The glimmering of a Colour will provoke a Bull, the wagging of a Shadow will move an Asp, the wapping of a Towel will urge a Bear, the squeezing of Grapes will incense an Elephant: And what is a Man unlike these; whom a Feather, a Straw, a Toy, a Trifle can thus incense, urge, move, provoke? This is the Folly of Man's Anger; when the Passion is more, than the Cause.  
I am summoned, challenged, yea cowarded with indignities: and yet I loathly enter the lists of Strife; or rather enter not. Shall I there hazard me, where to be conquered is grievous, to conquer is but inglorious? Will I rave and trample the Dung and Dirt, whereby (the more I bestir me, yea however I behave me) I am but the rather annoyed, but defiled. The pursuit of Anger is as a Suit in Law: the Plaintiff, the Defendant, both are losers in the end. To contend thus with my Superior, were dangerous; with my Equal, were doubtful; with my Inferior, were base. (Anger is but a wretched evil, and forlorn; that is authorized, is patronised in no Degrees of Men.) With my Superior will I fear, with my Equal will I blush, with my Inferior will I scorn to contest. Hath one or other offended me? if he be under me, I will be so Good, as savour him: if above me, I will be so Wise, as savour myself. I will wink at the Child, and Old man, for the weakness of their Age; at the Woman, for her Sex; at the Fool, and Madman, for their Condition. Yet so, as to let them know, it was not well done, but rather taken so. This is a Mans both quiet, and renown; that he can forbear. His Mildness shall pacify his Adversaries, while they cannot but wonder at it; shall proeure him Friends, while they needs must affect it.  
My Affections are in my Custody, and shall keep within my Compass. I will so hold the reines, as that I can curb, or lose them; not so much when it is my pleasure, but when I see my time. We must leave our lives, if we will avoid Offences: And of these, though many (when they come) may be borne with; yet are not all to be neglected. We cannot (oft times) but be moved at the Evil of things. I that must love my neighbour as myself: may notwithstanding so hate his Vices, as mine own. An unreasonable Patience, is little better than an inordinate Anger. This kind of Dullness would not only encourage the Bad, but even incite the Good, to do evil. The Zeal of a Man is enamoured of the Virtuous; nor can it be but displeased at the Vicious Displeased, not at the Party, but his Vice: Displeased at the Evil he hath done; not so much because he hath now so done, but rather that he may do so no more. I now can be angry; yet so, as my Anger be not a worse Fault, than the Fault I am angry at. I can be thus angry; to resist, to check, to punish: yet not because I am now provoked, but because I now ought so to be. If (while I dispute against Anger) a saucy Fellow should spit in my Face, purposely to provoke me: I would not now doubt (with Diogenes) whether I ought so to be? but let him truly and justly know, and feel, I am angry; for so I ought.  
But if this Passion (as it is wont in most) prove exorbitant, and fall to range (yea and rage) beyond her Pale; provoking me still to hurt the other, and vex myself: What remedy now but Patience? I turn me aside (with Plato) and now forget him whom I was angry at; and mind rather to revenge me upon my angry self. I now draw me apart, take some time to bethink me in, let Reason breathe awhile; and the Fit is past. Pause then an hour, disturb not thy stomach; and the Hard-meats are digested. This Disease of Anger (contrary to many) is soon helped by Delays. I take the counsel of Athenodorus to Augustus; count my Letters: or rather that of S. Ambrose to Theodosius; say my Prayers. And while my Devotion warms, my Passion cools. Thus is it awhile delayed, thus allayed at the last. Withdraw but the Fuel of Rashness from this Passion, and the Fire is abated: Let but the Sun of Reason shine upon it, and the Mist is vanished. Ah the Frowardness of a Man! that his Ire can glow and burn, a Month, a Year, a Life throughout: which a Week, a Day, an Hour, might (if not extinguish) otherwise assuage. It is strange to think, how Anger one way deferred, languishes: although another way prolonged, it is the rather enraged. Architas, Socrates, Plato; these were but Heathens, yet would not so much as beat their Servants in their Anger: Shall I that am a Christian, rise now against my Brother? Shall my Stomach serve others one way, as I (another way) would serve my Stomach: only eat when I am hungry; only beat when I am angry? By no means. I am wiser, than to launch forth in a storm: If he have offended me, if provoked me; the offence will notwithstanding remain, when the Provocation shall be passed. There's no hurt to take another, and better time, to punish, or admonish: I shall so show me the Wiser; and (perhaps) make him the Better. Oh do nothing in your Anger! for than you will do any thing. What profit have you? What credit? to commit that suddenly, which you may repent at leisure. Many a Man because he hath been so causelessly angry at Another; hath had cause enough (after) to be angry at Himself. The End of sudden Anger, was always the Beginning of late Repentance.  
Another hath done me wrong; I might have done no less to him: His might likewise have been the Sorrow, & the Evil mine. We are all offensive each to other; and may need each others Pardon. He is liveless (they say) that is faultless: And whose turn (can you tell) shall it next be, to crave mercy for his Fault? Should we not wink at our mutual Offences; there would be no end of Strifes, & Plagues, betwixt Man and Man, yea betwixt God and them both. Do we look to find others inexorable; sigh ourselves are so implacable? Full oft hath a Man been driven to beg Forgiveness of him, to whom he denied it: and now to kneel to him for Grace, whom he sometimes spurned in disdain. I will deal with mine Adversary, as to tell him how I am dealt withal: so to teach him how he should deal with me.  
My Brother hath offended me: Alas! and I my God. My Brother me once, and in one thing: I my God always, and in all. If jupiter (said He) should thunder down his Darts, so oft as Men provoke him; he should soon leave himself Weaponless, and Men Liveless: If my God (think I) should have been angry with me, so oft as I have offended him; I should not have yet been, whom my Brother might now offend. He is one, and the same Clay with me; that now lifteth up the hand against me: I that am a vile Worm, have kitked the heel against the God of Majesty. With what face, can I beg pardon of my Lord, and Master; when I have denied it to my fellow-servant? One Man (saith a WISE MAN) beareth Hatred against another; and doth he seek pardon from the Lord? He showeth no mercy to a Man, which is like himself: and doth he ask forgiveness of his own Sins? How doth the merciful Lord check the merciless Servant? Shouldest not thou also have had compassion on thy Fellow Servant, even as I had pity on thee? Oh that Men would therefore Do, as they Pray! Forgive us our Trespasses; as we forgive them that trespass against us. I will do to another, as I would another, yea as I would my God should do to me: Overcome evil with Good. My Saviour stood as a Sheep before the Shearers; they smote him on the one cheek, and he gave the other: they reviled him, and in his mouth were no reproofs. And is the Servant above his Lord? What Loss, or Shame is it for me to suffer, as CHRIST suffered? What Profit, or Credit will it be for mine Enemy, to do as JUDAS did? Oh call but thy Saviour's Sufferings to mind (the Wrong, and Scorn he took) and what can be too hard for thee to bear?  
And I, and mine Enemy; Who are we, and what? Men both, and Mortal: Men mortal in our Nature, immortal only in our Anger. Ah that we would be each against other everlastingly; that are for ourselves but a while. Nothing will more work upon this our fierce Affection; than to think upon this our frail Condition. The Man is mortal, as he ought; why should his Anger (as it ought not) be immortal? This is also a great Evil under the Sun, Vexation of Spirit: That a Man will add Unquietness to the Shortness of his Days; and so make them still not only Few but Evil.  
But Thou strengthenest thee in this inhuman Fierceness; unmindful altogether of thy humane Weakness. Thou now thinkest to acquit thee, ere such a time: Alas! that thou thinkest not, that Time (perhaps) may be beyond thine own. Thou wouldst the Death of thine Enemy: Oh wish it not, attempt it not: Yet a little while, and Death herself will do it; without thy Trouble, and Sinne. The Mouse and the Frog fought so long, till the Kite came and tore them both to pieces. Oh strive not so long, till Death come and part the Fray; and so take you both away, him Wounded, and thee Blemished. When thou art now gone with, or after him: thy Name shall yet survive a while, as odious as thy Life. When Death shall have cooled thy courage, weakened thy hands, stopped thy mouth; Men shall thus write upon thy Grave:  
HEre lies a Fury,  
hight Sir Ire;  
That bred, and earned  
immortal Fire.  
He began to wrangle  
from the womb;  
And was a Wrangler  
to his Tomb.  
A Peevish, and  
a Foolish Elf:  
Foe to his God,  
his Saints, his Self.  
He hated Men;  
Men did not love him:  
No Evil, but  
his own, might move him.  
He Was; and was  
Earth's Load, and Care:  
He Is; and is  
Hell's Brand, and Share.   

The Covetous.  
IS it you (& be naught) old Pouch-penny? Me thought, 'twas some such Scrapeling; he came so sneaking on. It is many an honest Man's luck (more than mine) to stumble upon such Blocks in every street. I would none beside me, had more need, or use of such; save only to know them with me: They should not seek him long; I soon could spy him out. A Covetous Man is easily inquired, and determined, by him that is not so: But he that sees him, and is like him; can no more discover the other, than express himself. Pouch-penny did I call him? But he's not so known to every one. He hath more Names, than ever he was Christened with. The Best call him no better, than you would call a Wretch; Silly, Needy, Cark, Snig, Gripe, Shark, Droyle, and Plod: And for the Most, they call him no more, than you would call a Dog; Snap, Catch, Pinch, Holdfast, and the like. We may justly, and modestly (and then justly, when modestly) call the Naughty, no better than they are. Call me a Spade, a Spade; a Wretch, a Wretch; a Knave, a Knave: Never go behind his back, and so beslander him with the Truth. Tell a Man his Evil to his teeth: yet so, as not to revile him; but reprehend him rather.  
Wearish Wretch; so like a Flea-biter he looks. Say as you see; is he not mostly Wry-necked, crompe-shouldred, palefaced, Thin-cheekt, Hollow-eyed, Hooke-nosed, Beetle-browed, Purse-lipt, Gaunt-bellyed, Rake-backt, Buckle-hammed, Stump-legged, Splay-footed, Dry-fisted, and Crooke-fingered: with a learing Look, slow Breath, stealing Pace, squeaking Voice: His tall Hat, and tattered Cloak, Threadbare Buskins, and cobbled Shoes; a swagging Pouch, and a Spadle-staffe: And if you reckon him only by his Coat, and Carcase; one would scarce bestow the hanging of him, to have them both. They say commonly, ill Humours, ill Manners: but here certainly ill Manners, ill Members. For (could you see into him) he is not more ill-favoured, than ill-conditioned: There's certainly more ugliness in him, than appears by him: A mind more mishapen, than can be figured in a Carcase never so disfigured. How monstrous a Vice is Avarice, and odious? It distorts the Body, and distracts the Soul: Is Nature's very Enormity, and an utter Anomy to Grace; here quite swerving, there fare out of frame. It makes a Man look ugly, and to be loathed; but odious inwardly, and to be abhorred: makes him seem a Monster on the outside; but makes him a very Devil within.  
Flock here my pretty Birds; here's an ill faced Owl, will find you all work to wonder at. See how stridling he stands; he couches and crouches upon his Staff; nor looks he at you, but under his elbow: and say what you will; he never speaks but when his mouth is open. Come on then, look and laugh, and hollow, and hoot, and whistle, and hisse; gibe and jest, frump and flour, point and play: here's a broad Butt to hit, and an Asses back to bear all. It were good sport, to laugh and scorn him out of his skin, for his Coin. Lo the Coverous Carl! what a needy Niggard it is? Oh 'tis a scraping Churl! Out on him greedy Gripe! A very Gut-head, he hath Asses Ears direct; a Forehead & it were to set his Leeks on; He sees well, and his Eyes were uncast; I wonder he is not ringed for rooting; you may see your face in his so transparent Cheeks; a Head he hath like a Moule, and his nails were grown; and a Foot to shovel the Street before him. Hateful Misereant! how hath he worn and wrested himself from God's good Making? His steeple Hat hath harboured many a Thousand; and his woollen Cap screws to keep warm his Wits. His weatherbeaten Cloak he had by Inheritance; and he means to make it in his Will. He hath forgot the Making of his Doublet; but it pulls him (ever and anon) in mind of repairing. His Breeches are in the Fashion, not so much for pride, as to save Cloth. But how bare soever be his Back, and belly thin; his Bag is well lined, and he keeps it warm. There's not a hole in his Hose, and yet not a place where there hath not been a hole. His shoes have cost him more the maintaining, than would provide him Shoes. He keeps a free house; you may as soon break your Neck, as your Fast: and a clean withal; you may as readily wet your Shoes, as your Lips. The Man is ofttimes so melancholy at Home; that he is glad when he may cheer up himself at his Neighbour's Board: And (upon many occasions) grows so desperate, that he cares not what becomes of him; only he is loath to be at the charges of making himself away. What chattering about a Night-Bird? and who can keep Countenance at so absurd an Object? Covetousness is as well worthy Scorn, as Hatred: and the Folly thereof as much to be laughed at, as the Iniquity to be abborred. God, and Men, have thought Vice not odious only; but ridiculous. Whom God hath abhorred, them also hath he laughed to scorn. The Covetous especially, have been oftener counted, and called Fools, than Fiends. Ironies are an approved Rhetoric, and an earnest Argument against Impieties. And some Evils are more profitably derided, than reprehended.  
In good sooth (for all this) he looks but sparing on't. Whatsoever he lacks of the Spirit; You would judge him a mortified Man according to the Flesh. He forbears ofttimes to feed so full as Nature requires; Though Grace was never in his mouth or mind, either before meat, or after. He seldom cats but sparingly; though temperately never. Thereason of all is, because he so eats, not to subdue his Body; but to save his Meat. Like Tantalus, he stands up in Water to the chin, and Apples hang by closters hard at his Lips; and yet he pinches and pines in the midst of meat and drink. An artificial Chemic; he hath true Mydasses' Touch: all that he should eat and drink, he turns into Gold: I would he had Mydasses' Ears withal, it would make him more known, and laughed at. Like one that sold a Rat for two hundred Pence, and died of Hunger himself: so will he oft times starve his carcase, to cram his Pouch. A Covetous Man's Mind is a slave to his Money; and his Body a stave-to his Mind: He will not satisfy the Appetite of the one; because the other hath an Appetite will not be satisfied. Oh baseness of Men! to undervalue their Affections to base Dross; and their Lives to base Affections. Ah their Folly and Wretchedness! to have the Creatures of God, and use them not; which they therefore have, to use: to prefer their Wealth to their Health, their Get to their Being's, their Money to their Body; their Gold to their God, their Silver to their Soul; and rather possess it, than enjoy themselves.  
Suppose him now set at another's Table: His Knife (answerable to his Stomach) is the first drawn, and not the last in the Dish. Now not a word with him: Ask him any thing; and he answers all with Yea, and No; not above a monosyllable at the most. Look how he loads a Borrowed Trencher? His Cheeks strut, Teeth walk, and Chaps ply apace: And lest you might hap to cut him, not where he likes not, but not enough; he saves you the labour of a Carner. He now feeds full upon Freecost: and says with Diogenes, That Wine is best, and most pleasant to him, which he pays not for. Now makes he a full amends to his whining Stomach, and his Guts leave grumbling: But as the Wolf eats one good Meal for three Days: so though he feast his Body now abroad; he will make the poor Carcase pay triple for it at Home. Yea and (all this while) if his Host be beholden to him for more than his Company; he eats double: out eats him, and eats him out. The Covetous is one of a ravenous Generation: A very Harpy, Tiger, Wolf, Bear, Dog, Devil, Pit, Gulf, and Hell. A Cormorant begat him; The Daughter of the Horseleech bore him: and he like a cursed Caterpillar, is continually gnawing: Devouring Widows houses, and sucking the very Blood from the hearts of the Fatherless. Oh all ye damned Devourers! that eat up God's people, as if it were Bread, Bloodsuckers of BELIAL! Surfeit yet a while in your hellish Insaciacie: Ye shall once spew out your Bowels; and empty yourselves into a Pit as bottomless, as ever were your desires.  
But I will home with him, and see what an House he keeps. Let me tell you, he keeps an open House: but you may understand, it is the Roof unthatcht, or Windows untrellessed; for the Door is never unbolted. The Grass grows green upon his Threshold; and his Dog is as good as a Porter, to keep Beggars from his Door. His Chimney smokes but seldom, and Daws make nests in every corner. You cannot come to visit his Beer, but you shall find it at a very low rate, low estate, if not dead outright: And for his Bread, Age and Experience have brought it to an hoary head. He is now at his own Finding, and mark how his Board is furnished: His stall and Garnor furnished the Market, and that his Coffers: his Garden-plot only fills his Table, & that fills his Belly. Roots and Herbs he calls his First, and Second Course: and three hungry Salads supply the places of so many hearty Services. He cuts up a Carrot, and picks out a dainty bit in a Turnip: Beets are his best Fare; and he thinks how he riots amongst his Leeks and Lettuce? He shives out his Bread by weight or measure; an Ounce, or an Inch; and at every Cutting observes the Loaf. You would think he humbred his Morsels: He goes so fare, and no further; not because he would eat no more, but would no more should be eaten. He eats the more Pottage on purpose, to spare the Flesh. He seldom eats like an Epicure, to please his Palate; never like a Man, to nourish his Body; but commonly like a Hog, to fill his Belly. A belly full is a belly full, and it be of Buttermilk. He may eat Gold; and yet he feeds but grossly. Like a Tradesman, that sells off his best wares at a good rate; and keeps the worst for his own use: Or like him, that sells out the good Liquor; and reserves the Dregges for his own drinking: Like an Idiot, he hath the best to choose on, and makes choice only of the worst; Leaves the good for others, and takes the bad unto himself: Or like That Ass, that carried dainty Cates upon his back; and notwithstanding filled his belly with Hay, and Straw. But if he be a Worshipful Miser, and of ancient standing; Not the Cognisance only, but the Coat also is the self same, his Great Grandsire gave before him. He must do, as his Father before him; or else how should he uphold the House? Now hath be more Dogs, than Men to wait upon him: and his Table fills more Ears, than Bellies; and more fills Ears, than Bellies. He now quarter's a Capon, and roasts half a Rabbit: and tells you an old Tale of an Hare, and another of a Pig, that was proportioned to three several Spits, Fires, Days, Dishes, Meals: But an approved Story, how that the Loin of a Cock was once a Service for a King. His Tailor hath not half so many ways to turn his Breeches, as his Cook to dress his Dishes: he sends up the same Dish seven days together, disguised only in seven several Sauces. And for the cold Pie, it is so long since it came hot out of the Oven; that it hath got on a Freeze coat to keep it warm: and at last is fain to flit from his Table, to his Trough. He grudges to bestow any thing upon himself; and brawls with Wife and Children, as the daily means of his undoing: And when he must needs dispend, he shrugs it out, and kisses every Piece he parts from. How should a Covetous Man be good to any? since he is not so to himself. Will he feed the hungry; whose own Stomach still complains? Will he  the naked; that only shrouds himself in shreds? Will he give to the Poor; that cannot be persuaded himself is rich? Well he relieve others Necessities; that thinks there is nothing beside him, which he wants not himself? Unprofitable Earth-load is he; borne to do good to none, no not himself. Neither and Wife, Children, Friends, Neighbours the better for him: And for himself; he is, but life's not; because he is to no purpose: he hath, but enjoys not; because be uses not what he hath.  
'tis bed time by this; and (not once minding, or mentioning his God) he commends himself to the keeping of his Bolts and Bars. Wife, Children, Friends, Servants, he asks them all once, and again, if they have made all sure? and being accordingly answered, he yet rises at last to resolve himself. Than the Covetous Man, none more distrustful. His Wife he thinks is false unto him; and his Children cozen him: His Servants he accounts no better than Thiefs. If they be his Friends, they come to shark upon him if Strangers, to steal from him: His Superior he suspects of extorting, his Equal of defrauding, and his Inferior of purloining: Yea, he is ofttimes anxious of himself; nay, and will trust his God no further than he sees him. Now is the Gate shut, Bridge drawn, Door barred, and Trunk locked; and now he lies him down to wake; for why, he cannot, or else he dares not sleep. The Wise Man knew his disease, and tells the Cause: The Abundance of the Rich will not suffer him to sleep. Thoughts are entered into his head, and Sleep is departed from his eyes. It is his Care to get more, will not let him rest with what he hath. He now lies imagining mischief on his Bed; and takes counsel of his Pillow how to deceive, and wrong. How to add his neighbour's House, and Field unto his own? How to double his Talon by the safest means, and in the shortest time? How to take up, and put off at the best hand? How to let out Money with good Security, and for the most Advantage? How to bring about such a Bargain? How to forestall such a Market? How to engross, how to enhance such a Commodity? How to purchase such a Living? How to inveigle such an Estate? No evil can be thought, which Covetousness doth not both think and plot. It cares not to deceive the simple; nor makes a Conscience to oppress the poor: Neither regards it the Widow's Tears, the Blood of the Fatherless, nor the Labourers Sweat. It takes no notice of Father or Mother, spares not his own Brother, and affords not the least Favour to his best Friend. It measures Honesty by Profit; and thinks nothing not lawful to itself, which may make for its own advantage: and so it go away with the Gain; it cares not who life's by the loss. Oh cursed Avarice! the Metropolis of all Evils, and Charybdis of Iniquity: Through its evil instigation; did EVE take, and taste the forbidden Fruit; LABAN grudged the goods of JACOB, His Brethren sold JOSEPH to the ISMAELITES; BALAAM took pains to curse ISRAEL; ACHAN inveigled the exercrable Wedge; DALILAH delivered her Husband into the hands of his Enemies; AHAB massacred NABOTH; GEHAZI belied his Master; and JUDAS betrayed CHRIST. He rightly said; Covetousness is the root of all evil: that fully considered, what Evils come by Covetousness. It neither fears God, nor reverences Man: Profanes the Temple, forestalls the Market, corrupts the Court; sways Authority, impugns justice, violates Laws; Defraudes the Innocent, oppresses the Poor; blinds the Eyes from beholding Equity, stops the Ears from hearing the Truth, hires the Tongue to ratify Falsehood with an Oath, sets the Hands to work wickedness, and makes the Feet run to shed Blood. What Evil hath Hell invented, hath the Devil suggested: which Covetousness hath not entertained, not put in execution?  
Yet tumbling and tossing; but as yet no folding of the hands to sleep. No, no, alas; his Brains are too busied, to be settled on a sudden. He hath a World in his Head, and it makes him study how to get a Country into his Hands. Such a Field (he thinks) lies commodiously for him; such an House is pleasantly seated; is of a safe and free Tenure, and may be had at a reasonable rate: Such a Commodity is both rare, and saleable; thus and thus may he engross a good parcel of it; thus and thus enhance the price. These and these sealed Bags are in such a Chest; and these and these Bonds and Bills in such another. And thus lies he counting all the night long. And if you were brought into his Bedchamber at midnight; (as was Mycillus the Cobbler, into Grypheus' the usurers) you should even then find him waking: Nay, if the Devil should come about that time to fetch him; he should hardly take him napping. The Riches of the Covetous trouble and torment him on every part; whether of Body, or Mind: He Conscience hath no peace, his Knowledge finds no truth, his Desire gets no appeasment; His Belly wants food, his back raiment, his Heart wants ease, his Eyes sleep, and his Bones want rest. Sigismundus the Emperor, when he could not sleep the night throughout, for taking thought, what he should do with all his Gold, was newly sent him: the next day he dealt it amongst his Captains and Connsellours; and could say afterwards, Now I am rid of a Tormentor; I shall now sleep in quiet. I would a Many should not so sleep, till they had done likewise. Gape, and yawn, and turn, and toss, and muse, and moan, and sigh, and quake ye restless Wretches! I will not pirty you; since you may ease yourselves, if you will.  
But if (thus tired with Thoughts) he fall at last into some faint Slumber; Oh how short it is how unquiet? He dreams all the while he is posting to a Fair, crowded in a Market; either Buying, Selling, Chopping, Changing, Hiring, Letting, Writing, Sealing, Counting: His Mind still runs upon Money, Wares, Chapmen, Cheatours, Thiefs, or Devils. Hark, hark; his Dog barks at Moonshine; & he now wakes & starts at the apprehension of Thiefs and Robbers: It is the Wind whisks by his Window; and he imagines he hears them whisper: He hears but the Door creak; and he thinks they now are breaking in. Up he gets, and loudly calls upon lusty Dick, and Robin, and Ralph; when there is no more but little jacke to hear him: Bids bring the Pistol, Musket, Sword, and Spear; when his whole munition is a Spirit, or a Pitchfork. His Colour changes, Hair stands upright, Heart pants, Breast throbs, joints quake; and all this while he suffers so much through his Fear, as he fears to suffer. Who would trouble themselves to get Riches; that thus trouble them that have them? Trouble to get them, trouble to keep them, and trouble to lea●…e or lose them: Here plodding and toiling; there Watching and caring; and sighing and groaning there: Making a Man here solicitous, anxious there, and there again forlorn. Molesting the Man, that his Goods are not increased; and again molesting, lest his Goods should be diminished: It both vexes him, that he hath no more; and vexes him, that he may have less. It troubled AHAB, to add NABOTHS' Vineyard unto his own: It troubled the RICHMAN, to conserve, & enlarge his Possesions: It troubled the YOUNGMAN, to part with his Goods unto the Poor. HE knew well how restless a thing was Riches, who likened them to THORNS: Like Thorns in the sides, they suffer not a Man to sit still: Like Thorns in the Fingers, they hinder a Man from labouring with his hands: Like Thorns in the Eyes, they blind a Man from beholding the Truth: Like Thrones in the Heart, they bar a Man from embracing the Right: Like Thorns in the Feet, they let a Man for going about any thing that is Good. To what shall I now liken the Riches of the World; but to all the infesting plagues of EGYPT? Their Rivers were turned into Blood; and these have made even Rivers of Blood: Frogs came into men's Bedchambers; and these creep into men's Bosoms: The Dust of the Land became Lice; and this Dust of the Earth is turned to such like Tormentors: Swarms of Flies infested Egypt; and these corrupt the Land: The Murrain slew the Beasts of the Land; This (what with toiling, rioting, spoiling) hath slain them the whole Earth throughout: The Men could not stand at ease, by reason of Boyles and Botches; nor do these suffer men to sit at rest: The Hail destroyed the Beasts and Trees; and these have done the like destructions: Locusts were brought into the Land; and these cause many a Caterpillar: Darkness was over EGYPT so thick that it might be felt; and these while they are groped and felt with the hand, they blind the eyes: All the first borne were slain at Midnight; and these have torn the prime Youngling from the Mohers' Belly, Breast, and Bed. Who is now the Rich man of the World, that is not richer in Plagues, than he is in Possessions: That abounds not in Restlessness, more than in Revenues. It was a Wise revenge of One, always to enrich his Enemies, and Offenders: affirming, it was punishment enough to make them rich: meaning, Wealth can want no Woe; and he that hath great Riches, hath little Rest withal. But (say the Covetous Carls of our days) punish them so, and hurt them sore. Silly Asses! they are burdened most, and yet they think they are most rewarded: They take it for a Blessing, not knowing that it proves a Snare. In the World's eye, he is the Happy Man that hath House by House, Field by Field, Flock by Flock, Bag by Bag, and Chest by Chest. He goes clothed in purple and fine Linen, and fares deliciously every day: Fine fed, and gay clad; His Cates and Raiments both fare fetched, and dear bought: and the Substance and Matter of neither are thought good enough for him; but both are made better, if Cost and Art can make them so. One Back and Belly of his, how many doth it exercise and employ, thus to clad, and feed? Besides, all men seek to him; serve, honour, and applaud him. O happy be! He hath an Heaven upon Earth; that thus hath the World at will. Fools! that conceit those happy, whose Miseries they conceive not. They view the Painting, but not the Rottenness: See the best by them, but know not the worst is within them. You behold laughter in the Face; but you now consider not the Heart is heavy: You reckon what Pleasures, Profits, Honours; but think not what Fears, Cares, Discontents. An honest poor Man would not have the rich Gluttons Estate, to have his Mind. The one hath little, and wants little; the other wants as much as he hath: The one could eat, and he had it; the other hath it, and cannot eat: There's health and hunger; here's plenty and pain: This is always timorous, that other still secure: This is Free, the other Bond: This sleeps, while the other wakes. Many a poor Man hath made merry with a belly full of Bread and Water; and after slept sound upon an hard Cratch: while many a Rich man hath sighed bitterly at a Banquet of Wine; and waked carefully upon a Bed of Down.  
Alas poor man, and perplexed! his last Night's ill rest hath made him an early riser: He is soon up, and full sore at hisdevotion. A man indeed is he of a daily devotion, but of no Religion: for he scarce comes to Church above once a Quarter. What need he travel to sacrifice; or come abroad to worship? he hath a Chapel in his Chest, and a God of his own, his MAMMON. Each Part of his Body, and Power of his Soul; hath he commanded, (as did that King his Subjects) that they forthwith fall down, and worship the GOIDEN-IMAGE. He scorns and contemns blind, and sluggish: BAAL, Assheaded AN A MELECH; DAGON the deceitful; and the unmerciful MOLECH: calls BAAL-ZEBUB but a Flie-catcher; and thinks BELL and DRAGON but Gluttons both. He calls none Good, but God: and of Gods, none more than MAMMON, the God of Goods. Other Gods are either chargeable, or not beneficial; but as for him (to make good the Devil's words) he serves not his God for nought: Only he is oft times perplex; lest (with LABAN) he might at any time lose his God: His God (he knows) is Currant; and therefore 'tis his greatest care to keep it. Yea and his Gods are so many of the same Matter and Mould; that all his Service is to number them. He makes much of his Money, for the Figures sake, more than for the Use: and thinks he hath it to engross, rather than to employ. Every New Piece is a new Picture of his Worship: which at first he examines by the Balance of his best Belief; and after admits it as an Image of his Adoration. HE well saw his Superstition, who called the Covetous Man an IDOLATOR. Why did God oppose himself to MAMMON? but for that they who serve MAMMON, oppose themselves to God: He therefore told them truly; Ye cannot serve God, and Mammon. Of all others then, none sothwartly idolatrous, as the Covetous. Others have worshipped the Creatures of Gods making; but these the Works of their own hands: Now by how much the Works of God are more worthy, than the handy Works of Men; by so much is this kind of Idolatry more evil and odious, than the other. Nor is the Covetous Man more spiritually Idolatrous; than civilly Slavish. The Dross is but base; but the Covetous Man's affections are base than the Dross: Else, how could he undervalue himself to it? unless he saw somewhat in it, more worthy than himself. They call him the Money-master; butyou may call it the Master-Money: For which he toils Night and Day; bides Heat and Cold; runs through Fire and Water; hazards Body and Soul. Silly Slave! thus to become a Drudge to his Servant: As not possessing, but possessed rather; not using it, but employed himself: not daring to dispend it, as a Master over it; but fain to guard it, as a Servant to it: whereof he hath the trouble only of the Custody; but no profit of the Enjoyment.  
All the day long; and yet neither idle, nor well employed. Yet makes he Time very precious to him: For he (together with his Coin) lets time also out to Interest. His Money flies out (like Stales, or Quoyes) to fetch in more: And (clean contrary to Nature's rule, or practice) he makes even senseless things to generate their like. What a Monster now is a Mony-breeder, that brings forth thus against Nature? The Greeks not unaptly call Usury by the name of a Birth: because there a Penny begets a Penny, and a Pound brings forth a Pound. Now what need God's Creatures increase and multiply for the use of Man: since Man can make these Creatures of his own, increase thus beside God, to enrich himself? An Usurer thus accuses both God and Nature, of ignorance and improvidence; in that he hath found out more ways of advantage, than ever they ordained. Of tame Beasts, take heed of an Usurer; he is an old Ape, a subtle Fox, and ravens more than a Tiger, Lion, Wolf or Bear. Mark what hurt he does you, when you are the most beholden to him. What an Usurer lets out, he parts with but for a time; but the other must quite part with, what comes in again. Do you not know, you may have another man's Money so long in your hands; till you come to have none of your own? You so may soon convert your whole Estate into Debt. It is a Rule more experienced, than observed; All that an Usurer hath, is in other men's hands: till all that other Men have, be in his. Take an Usurer's Money into your hands; and you take a Serpent into your bosom: It stings like an Asp, makes you sleep insensibly, and you never after awake your own Man: It eats like a Canker, every sound Part: and burns like a Fire, while any Fuel lasts. But notwithstanding, what a sort of Idiots daily seek, and sue to him, to undo themselves? Nay they think, prmise, witness themselves beholden to him, for their own undoing. The plain Country Fellow comes in with a couple of Capons; the Gentle Man with a goodly Gelding; the Grazier with a fat Ox; and the Great Man with a brace of Bucks. And he takes these now, with Condition of what he must have hereafter. They must first freely take his Servant by the hand, after, as kindly salute his Wife; and so they make way to whisper himself in the ear. He now takes them apart; pleasures them with the Press-money of engagement and thraldom to a Churl; charms them with a Number, and set Form of words; binds them with their own Hands; and (perhaps) at last hires others hands to lay hold upon them. Oh damned Usury, and detested! Whether Usury directly, or indirectly; yet directly damned. What is it at the best, but a necessary Evil; like a Woman, which a Man can neither well have, nor want: but an undoing Benefit; like an ill Servant, that eats more, than he earns: but a tolerated Theft; Like a Sore, that is suffered, only to prevent a worse Disease: But as it is made; what it is, but the Spoil, and Shipwreck of Estates, and States? Of Estates; for how Many have been thus impoverished, to enrich One? Of States; for how should a Private Wealth, but hurt the Commonwealth.  
But (think you) is an Usurer all he is? Tush Man! he's any thing for Advantage. Any Gain is good, how are it be got. Emperour-like, he smells Gain well from Piss and Stolen: nay Pope-like, embraces it sweetly from the Stews. He takes up all Trades to thrive on: Now a Labourer, now a Farmer, now an Artificer, now a Merchant, now an Officer: now an Engrosser, and sells all by whole sale; now an Haberdasher of small wares, and sells all by retale. Nay worse than these; An Informer, Promoter, Pettifogger, a Pillager, Poller, Toller, a Monopoliser, Market-monger, Corne-hoorder, Huckster, Broker, Regratour, a Mountebank, Catchpole, Cutpurse, Carder, Cheater; and many such more than good: Of such like Trade, or rather Craft; which turn the Industry of Nature, and Invention of Art, into no better but Deceit, and Wrong. There are many ways for a Man to enrich himself, without his Evil. A due Time, and good Means, will bring in Gain enough, to no Man's loss. That only is well got, for which no Man is the worse. A Man ought both to labour in, and live by his Calling. And may (doubtless) so wisely, and justly contrive his Affairs, as to do himself good thereby, and no body hurt. And therefore are vocations of Men well invented: Men only abuse them, when they make ill Inventions, their Vocations. When Men will not labour, for that is painful; when Men will not venture, for that is doubtful: But will rather defraud and circumvent, taking it to be easily and certainly gainful: Having neither the Patience, nor Honesty to expect, till Time, and industry may advantage them; But having a reach beyond both, to rise of a Sudden: And so they be hastily, they care not how unjustly rich.  
Nay but I now come near the Man, that is so near himself. Why (God be thanked) Man, thou hast enough. Enough? No, no; Fortune hath given to him (as she hath to Many) too much: but hath not given him (as she hath to None) Enough. Enough 3 There's two of the Enough (he says) and his (he thinks) is little Enough. It mattereth not, how much he hath with another; sith it seems but small unto himself. Little, or Much, it skilleth not; Little would have no less, and Much would still have more. And therefore, his Hook hangs continually, and all is Fish, that comes to his Net: He hath a Blow in every Man's Field; an Iron in every man's Fire; and an Oar in every man's Boat. Like a hungry Dog, he gapes at evety Bitten, and snatches at every Bone: Like a greedy Kite, ere he have yet quite swallowed the first gobbet; he gapes and creeks for another: At once pulls one Hand unto him, with what he hath gotten, and keeps close his Fist; and opens the other Hand, and holds it out for more. He labours of a Disease, the remedy whereof does rather increase the malady: a Fever, a Dropsy, a Doggish Appetite. Meat makes him but hungry; and the more he drinks, the dryer he is; and all you can apply, adds but Fuel to augment his Fire. The Serpent Situla hath stung him, and (do what you can) he'll die of an unquenchable Thirst. Pour in while you will, his Mouth is like a Sieve, or tunnel; still open and empty: and all that is put in, doth rather stretch out, than fill up his Belly. All other Desires of men, rest satisfied in their accomplishment: This hungry desire of Having only, the more it is fulfilled, it is enlarged. The Beasts can forthwith suffice their Appetites, only this beastly Appetite of Man will not be satisfied What shall I call this Covetousness? a Ditch, a Grave, a Gulf, a Whore, a Hell: infinite all, and insatiate altogether. The Daughter of the Horseleech still cries; Give, Give: but never saith, It is Enough. He that loveth Silver, is doomed not to be satisfied with Silver. For, Covetousness is the Hunger of the Soul; and Money is but a corporal Sustenance: It may well then fill his Purse; but shall never suffice his Mind. The Covetous Man that loveth abundance, shall not be satisfied with Increase: Because the love of his riches increaseth together with the Heap. A Poor man hath little, and wants little: a Rich man hath much, and wants more than he hath. The One rests content with what he hath; and thus is he filled with good Things: The Other coveteth to have more; and so is he sent empty away. How much better is it, to be Full with little; than Empty in the midst of much? And how are they Riches; which once increasing, Poverty is increased also? That Man is Rich, not that hath much; but that wants little: And he wants the less, that hath the least. He that hath but little, esteems well of a little Profit: but he that hath much, sets light by a small Gain; because he looks for more. The Man that desires many things, to him a Many things seem a Few: but he that is content with few things, to him do even a Few things seem a Many. A Beggar thinks him rich with a Penny; a Rich man scarce thinks him so with a Pound. Many a Man hath thought such a Thing too much for him, before he had it: which when he hath, he now thinks it not enough. The Reason is, because he so seeks to have, as that he sees not what he hath. He sees not, how he hath, what others want: but thinks he wants, what another hath. What another hath, he wants; yea and wants what he hath himself. But, he that will have what he hath, and have enough; Let him not get more, but crave less: For the only way to make a Man Rich, is not to augment his Substance; but rather lessen his Desire. He that eats much, and is not filled; that drinks oft, and is not slaked: Expletion but increases the Malady; and there is no way to cure him, but by Purgation. A Man cannot have all that he will; this he may, he may nill what he hath not. He that would but a little, may soon have all he would. I will desire no more, when I would be sure to have my Desire.  
What (I marvel) would the Man do with more? He hath more already than is well bestowed, or than he well knows how to bestow. It is his Goods Increase he minds only, not their Use. How unworthy is be of the Talon, that binds it in a Napkin, and hides it in the Ground? What is he better to have a thing and use it not, which is nothing but the use? What then would the Man with more Wealth? What? I'll answer for him; provide for an hard Winter, and keep in store against a dear Year: (yea it is the thought of an hard Winter, makes him he dare not enjoy the Summer.) He will therefore (he says) so dine, as he may sup; and so go to day, as he may to morrow. Yea (Oh misery, and folly of Men!) therefore will he certainly scant himself, lest perhaps he may be scanted: and want that always, which he fears he may sometimes want. But would you know why he yet so scrapes and heaps? His most end is; He therefore would have more, that others might have less: Otherwise, he is not satisfied, while there is any thing beside him. He advices himself in this case (as a Tyrant did his Officers) to consider how many things he wants; and to lee that no other have any thing but he. What he hath, doth himself no good, doth others hurt: for he hath it purpolely to keep it from others, rather than keep it for himself. Like the Dragon that kept the Golden Apples; and that other than kept the Golden Fleece: Like the Griffins in the Hyperborean Mountains, that had no use of the Gold and precious Stones were there; yet would suffer none to take them thence. Or (to compare him with what he's acquainted with) like a Dog on a Hay-Mow, he lies there not to eat himself, but to keep the Cattle from their Meat: Yea like a Daw, hides Money, not that he hath need of it, but that others might not find it. A Covetous Man doth good to none, no not himself: doth hurt to himself, and all. Wife, nor Children are the better for him; for whom Neighbours, and Strangers are the worse. He counts it an indignity, to have Equals near him; and a misery to have Neighbours by him: And could wish there were no more men in the World but he: that so he might have a World unto himself. ADAM (he thinks) was well blest, when there was no more to inhabit a whole Earth but he: but now (he says) the World is waxed so populous, that men have much ado to live one by another. His endless coveting hath made his Possessions boundless: And yet (he thinks) he scarce hath enough; when he now knows not what he hath. I will now say to him, and all; and so as my words are warranted: Go to now ye rich Men (ye that join House to House, and Field to Field; till there be no room left for the Poor) weep, and howl for your miseries that shall come upon you; your riches are corrupted, and your garments motheaten: your Gold and Silver is cankered, and the rust thereof shall be a witness against you, and shall eat your flesh as it were Fire: you have heaped up treasures together for the last days. Unhappy Wealth, and evil! that doth no good to those that have it not; and doth hurt to those that have it: Troubling their Lives, blotting their Consciences, damning their Souls: and from a hell they made unto themselves: bringing them to the Hell prepared for them.  
Oh cry him mercy! he disclaims him that can claim any thing of him; that can say What, or Whom he hath Oppressed, undermined, polled, ingrated, spoilt, cheated, circumvented, or extorted. Whose House hath he hired from over his head, or Field from under his hands; or snatched his meat from out his mouth, or pulled his Raiment from off his back: Hath he been a careless executor, an unequal arbitrator, an unjust Guardian? Whose Wages hath he withheld? Whose Estate hath he entangled? Whose Feoffment hath he imbezilled? Whose Pledge hath he not restored? What Promise hath he not performed? and what Debt hath he not discharged? Or who can say, this was his, or is, or so ought to be? He defies a World; what he hath, he came honestly by, and it is his own. His Neighbour (for what he ever wrought, or thought against him) hath yet both House, Wife, Child, Sernant, Ox, Ass, and every thing that is his. Excellent Pharisee! He hath kept the Commandments: But one thing is lacking; let him go and sell all that he hath, and give unto the Poor. He is justified (he thinks) because he hath done no man Wrong: Not knowing he is guilty, for that he hath done good to none. Others did he never injure; and so he is free (he persuades him) not considering he is bound to secure others. Call him Covetous; and he tells you, he never held others from their own: But I tell him, he is Covetous; because he holds his own from others. Not only he that greedily invades another's, but he that niggardly detains his own, he also is Covetous. He hath slain, that saves not; he hath hurt, that helps not; he hath spoilt, that rewards not; he hath starved, that cherishes not; he hath stripped, that clothes not: and he that hath not given, even he hath taken away. The Fault is no less his, that bestows not on him that hath not; than his, that exacts from him that hath. The Corn which thou hoordest, is the Bread of the hungry; the Wool and Flax which thou transportest, is the Cloth of the naked; the Gold and Silver which thou dost so heap and hide, is the Price of the Poor: He that wisely gave it thee for them; shall once (in their behalf) as severely require it of thee, and thy like: I was an hungered, and ye gave me no meat; I was thirsty, and ye gave me no drink; I was a Stranger, and ye took me not in; Naked, and ye clothed me not; sick, and in Prison, and ye visited me not.  
Nay and you talk of Giving, he is gone: This is (he says) no World to Give; himself is (as others are) on the Taking hand. Quite of another mind from the Scripture; It is a more blessed thing (he says) to Receive, than to Give: And (clean contrary to the Prince, that thought that day lost, in which he had given nothing) he thinks it all lost, in that day that he gives. You cannot beat Bounty into his Brains with a Beetle. A very Truant is he (and you examine him) at a lesson of Liberality: and if you take in hand to tutor him; he makes any excuse, takes any occasion to busy him otherwise, than about his Book. You would not think how he delays the Dole to the Poor; and what Shifts he hath to shun a Beggar. If he but suspect there sits a needy Craver near to such a Corner; he there either turns another way, or looks another way: He either mends his Pace, chats to his Companion, or makes himself musing on some hasty Matter: Now listens he to the other side, and the Pooreman is on his deaf ear. It is not the first, and a faint ask will avail him any thing; he must dog him to it, for what he does. But if you once come so near him, and follow him so fane, that he must needs take notice though not of Your Want, yet of your Noise: he never stands jesuitically to equivocate with you; I have it not that is (he means) not for you: but tells you blunt out at once; I have not for you. Ask him a Farthing, and he says a Farthing is too little for him to give; ask a Shilling, and he replies, a Shilling is too much for you to receive: Ask more, or less; he minds to serve you with a matter of nothing. Tell him you'll pray for him, if he'll be pleased to give; and he tells you, he can have Prayers better cheap: Say you'll pray for him, whether he'll give or no; and he'll trust you (he says) for once. (A poor Cavil is it, to flout out another's Necessity.) And yet he thinks, he hath thus put you off with as good a Grace, and as much Credit; as another could have pleasured you. But if he be drawn to Give, he gives so difficultly, so frowningly, with such upbraid and revile; that he gives you a Fish, and a Serpent at once; and together with Bread, he puts a Stone into your Poke. You had better be without his Gift; it is not so sweet in the having, as bitter in the receiving. Salute him with a Suit; and he stamps that he cannot stay to hear you: He now turns, and talks to every one that comes by him: and cries, I come Sir, to any one that but opens the casement toward him. Present him with your Petition, and he puts you to petition the second time for an answer to the first: he'll put on his considering Cap, and bids you come again for an answer: and so you must spend more Time, Labour, Cost, for (perhaps) a further Delay; or (more likely) a flat Denial. The Churl hates to be Poor; nor would he willingly be thought Rich: verifying the Saying; He had rather be rich indeed, than so accounted. (Contrary to many wavering Credit-mongers, that seek to be so accounted; having scarce wherewith to make up their accounts.) Especially, how little doth he set by himself at a Levy, Sessment, Loane, Tax, or Subsidy? And all is because he would do as little good as he could, to King, Church, and Poor. He abhors to be charged with an Office of Charge: will Fine for a City Sheriff; and will be ready to cut his own throat, to be made Sheriff of a Shire. He hates Papistry for one Point especially, because they teach, A Man may merit Salvation by his Works: He hears it, but he cannot believe it; No, no, his Hope is, Faith will come to save him, though Charity be away. Ah Charity, Charity! thou fair Fruit of the Faithful; and laudable witness of a Soul Sanctified: Oh thou that art the Greatest of all Graces for Abiding; where dost thou now abide? O Love! O Dove! to whither hast thou taken thy Wings? How art thou flown out of the Ark of a wretched World? how art thou gone out from us, not to return unto us? Alas! how is thy beauty stained, Strength weakened, light darkened, and Heat cooled? Help, Oh help! come once again unto us, and do some good amongst us: Now thou art gone, there's no good to be done. The Hungry pine, while there is none to feed them; the Naked starve, while there is none to  them; The Sick languish, while there is none to visit them; the Captives call and cry, while there is none to deliver them; the Poor complain, while there is none to right, or pity them. No man remembreth the Afflictions of JOSEPH. Never more need of an ANGEL to convey Sustenance to him prisoned in the Den; or of a RAVEN to fetch Food for him banished in the Wilderness: For, LABAN diminishes the Wages of JACOB; NABAL will not part with a crumb of Bread, or a drop of water to the Son of ISHAI; and DIVES denies LAZARUS to dine with his Dogs. Who relieves him with a Penny, whom CHRIST redeemed with his Blood? Who thrusts not out CHRIST in a stranger, rather than takes in a Stranger for CHRIST his sake? As the swinish GERGASENES thrust CHRIST out of their Coasts: So with a many hoggish Churls, away with the Beggar (the sturdy I mean not, but the needy) to the next Constable, Stocks, House of Correction. Their care is but to be rid of them; they care not to relieve them.;  
Oh ho, now I have him. Can you not think all this while, to what end he is so great a gatherer? You must not think What only, but Whom he is to leave behind him. He hath laid up (with the Glutton in the Gospel) for many Years: Yea and (beyond him too) for more Years than his own. Just one of them, that Have their Portion in this Life, and leave the rest of their Substance for their Babes. It is a Fatherly affection that urges him thus to scrape and heap: A Father (he thinks) does not half love his Children as he ought; that plots not by all means to make them rich. To beget Children, and bestow them, is (thinks he) a Father's Whole: and to endow them largely is the only Education. Better not beget, than beget to Beggary; is an Apothegme of his own: but the old Rule he remembers not; Better unborn, than untaught. No matter for Instruction, they shall have Wealth enough. Goods are more than Goodness: What cares he whether they learn to live well; his care is to leave them well to live. It is all one to be such an one's Hog, Horse, Dog; as his: Son: Nay, his Hogs shall have a Swineherd, his Horse a Rider, his Dogs a Futerer; but no Tutor for his Child. He will have a Shepherd in his Field, a Bailie in his yard; but scarce a Minister in his parish: A Clerk for his Bonds, a Steward over his lands; but no Schoolmaster to his Sons. He will look that his land be well manured; but respects not though he that must have it, be never so ill mannered. What an Idiot it is, thus to deck and dress the Servant; whose master notwithstanding must be but a Sloven. Oh their baseness, and folly! Less Culture shall be bestowed upon the Owner; then upon his Possessions Sons, or Daughters; No matter what they are, but what they have: Be she black, she's Penny white; be she crooked, her Wealth will make her stract; be she never so bad, her Goods are enough to make her Good Be he base, he's Gold Noble; Be he sheepish, he hath a Golden Fleece, be his Demeanour never so foul, he hath a fair Demeanes. What Vncomelinesse or Evil will not Wealth make a man wink at? O Fools! Whether is better, and to be preferred; Wealth, or Instruction? the one a gross Heap, the other a rare Endowment; the one as vile to the other; as is the Body to the Mind. And whether is worse, and rather to be despised; a Beggar, or a Fool? the one hath no Money, the other hath no Wit: and what the one wants of a Rich man, the other wants of a Man.  
And is it He, for whom thou dost so toil, and plod? Like thy Ox and Ass then, thou art not for thyself. Thou art but the Conduit-Pipe, and he the Cistern: It comes thorough thine hands, but is laid up for him. Thou therefore makest thee poor, to make him rich. And what good will it do thee when thou art gone, that thou left'st a rich Heir behind? Yea, more Rich (perhaps) then Good. Thou hast gained for him, and so hast lost thine own Soul. Did it DIVES any good, that his Brethren (after him) lived merrily; and (great-like) of his Goods? Say they drank Wine in Bowls; yet nevertheless his Tongue was tormented in that Flame. When thou diest miserably, what art thou the better that thy Children live never so bravely? What is it, that they beget jollity to them, and horror to thyself? Hereby have they Pleasure perhaps, but it but short: but thou hast torment both certain, and endless. A wealthy Son profiteth not a guilty Father: No, though he would give all he left him, for Masses, Dirges, Pardons, and Prayers; it could not (what ere Men fain) redeem his Soul from Hell. Indeed, Happy (they say) is he, whose Father is in Hell. For (say they again) A rich man is either a bad man, or a bad man's Heir. If himself be bad, it will once go worse with him: but if he only be heir to a bad man; he is happier himself, in that his Father is gone to the Devil for him. Yet further; What fairest thou, but another after thee may prove as lavish, as thou hast been scraping; as riotous, as thou sparing; and may scatter that in a Year, which took thee a Life to gather: and what profit hast thou, that thou hast laboured for the Wind? 'tis true, and just; both said, and Found: After a great Getter, there commonly comes a Spender. Goods ill gotten, are ill spent: The First Heir may have them, and a Second perhaps; all which a Third scarce comes to hear of.  
Nay but (I now bethink me) thou hast never an Heir: For whom is it now thou dost so toil, and irk, yea and damn thyself? Thou knowest, thou must not have them; and who must have them, thou knowest not. Perhaps, one that never knew thee, or will never thank thee. HE puts thee in mind of such thy Frailty, and Folly at once: Man Walketh in a vain Shadow, and disquieteth himself in vain: he heapeth up riches, and cannot tell who shall gather them. Tush! why tell you him? If no Body will lay claim to it; let it fall to the King, Church, Commons, Poor of the Parish. But for fear of such a Forfeit, thou hast chosen thee an Heir unto thyself: One that thou lovest well; yea better it seems than thine own Soul. One that love's thee well; and well he may, and it be but for the love he hath to thine. He cannot choose but love thee horribly, while he love's Thine so impatiently: That is, he could wish Thee, and Thine at once, both hanged, and had: yea, to have Thine, what cares he to curse Thee to Hell? He is one of the same Name (I am sure) though not one of the Kin. So, so; Keep the House howsoever in the same Name; belike the Line was not worthy of it. ABSALON hath no Child for his Name to live in; shall he rot therefore out of remembrance? no, not while ABSALON'S Pillar stands. If he have no Monument of his Loins; he can have a Pillar of his Name: and that's enough to uphold his House. This is one of the last, but not the least follies of Men, to let a Title carry it, before the Right: To make Kinsmen Strangers, and a Kinsman of a Stranger: With the whole Price of an Heiredome, to buy the Name of an Heir; or an Heir of the Name: To purchase a lying Affinity with a costly kind of Adoption. Nay but the Heir that must be, is a Poor Sister's Son: The poor raged Knave (I can tell you) is like to be Lord of all. He shall one day own all that is his Uncles; though his Uncle now scarce will own him. Not a Farthing will he allow him to educate, and maintain him; though leave him all at last, to waste perhaps, or else engross. You shall find him set the first in his Will; which never was suffered to sit the last at his Table. It is the manner of the Covetous, to part with nothing while they live; no not to those, to whom they mind to leave all at their Death. While he life's, all is too little for himself; but let him take all to him, when he dies. His Heir is now beholden to him, not for what he hath bestowed; but for what he could not keep: And will therefore thank him, when he shall not hear him; will pray for him when it shall do him no good. Thou now liest gasping, and thine Heir is gaping: Every look he lets upon thee, accuses the slowness of thy Death: For he thinks it his Wrong and Hurt that thou livest. He sighs and wails before thee, not that he cares for thy loss; but hopes for thy Gain: How he howls and blubbers, while thy hands quake, Teeth guash, Eyes close, Breath stops, Heart chokes, and Soul flits; & all, not so much that thou art now dead, as that thou diedst not ere this. No Man's Death is more desired, than the Covetous Man's: It is always expected, plotted often, yea and sometimes untimely effected. All therefore wish him dead; because (like the Hog in the Pot) he doth good to none, but after his Death.  
Well, thou'lt therefore shake off these Shadows; and mindest (I hear) to build some Hospital, School, College; or do some charitable Deed withal. Says he so? The Man life's poor (I perceive) with purpose to die rich: and dies rich, to do good after his Death. Yea, then do Good, when he can do no longer hurt. He hath rob Peter all his Life; and will now pay Paul at his Death. That is no Liberality to give, when he can no longer have: no Charity to relieve one, with what he hath wrested from another: no Piety to do Evil, that Good may come thereof: and no Equity to get ill, with a purpose to bestow it well. I would not wish thee to go to Hell all thy Life, with an intent to win Heaven after thy Death. Dost thou offend still, with purpose to make amends? Wealths well bestowing, is not enough for the Fault in the getting. Satisfaction may appease the Hurt; it cannot wipe away the Gild of Fraud, or Oppression. But if thou wilt do Good withal; I would advice thee to do it, while thou hast it in thine hand to do. Do well with it, while it is yet thine: What thanks is it to thee, what Good is done with it, when thou hast left it. Do then resign it, before thou must needs bequeath it. thou hadst as good do Good by thyself, as others. Even now feed and  the Poor, that their Loins and Bowels may bless thee, before thou diest. He is but a silly Traveller, that so orders for his journey, as to have his Provision sent after him, when himself is already gone so fare before: He may well want it, ere it overtake him. Good Works go merrily with, or before us: they follow but slowly afterwards.  
I dream but too well of him; there's no such matter he means. He means (as Hermocrates) to make himself his own Heir: and wishes still that his Goods might fall by succession to himself. Or else (with Another) will he devour his Gold before his Death; and so bury it in him: Or (with such Another) sow it in his Sleeve, and appoint it to be buried with him. Ah this bewitching Wealth! ha' this Gold, this Gold! how it ties men's Hearts unto it? Once Covetous, and always so. Avarice is commonly the Vice of old Age: Whereas other vices than fade, this grows afresh. And as it gins with Age, so it ends not but with Life. A Covetous Man grows the fonder of his Gold, the sooner he must forgo it: Yea, when it must needs Leave him; even than is he loath to leave it.  
I have now said so much of thee, that I had almost forgotten myself. Who (thinkest thou) am I? Even no better than I would; no other than thou oughtest to be. Will I (like thee) abase mine Affections unto Earth; when I am bound to aim at nothing under Heaven? To what can I stoop to in a World, that am above a World? I am more worthy, than to welcome base Pelf unto me, so as to worship it: My Mind came from Heaven; My Gold comes but from Earth: I do not mean to set Earth above Heaven, in letting my Gold overrule my Mind. If it will dwell with me, it shall be my Servant; I intent to be no Slave unto it. Riches can I contemn, and not desire, and use: can use the World, as though I used it not; can pass by this present Life; because I am to pass through it to another, to a better Life. Yea, can content me with a present Scantness, for hope of the Fullness I am to have hereafter. It is not an Earth that I would; nor can an Earth suffice and appease my Will. My Heart is a true framed Triangle, a coined Circle cannot fill it. Nothing can satisfy my Soul, but All things: He only is enough unto it, in whom it is. Nothing less than God, can suffice the Soul that is capable of God. Every Creature is but vile to him, that knows but his Creator. A whole Earth is too straight for him, that looks as wide as Heaven. The whole Ocean of the World is but as a drop to a thirsty Soul; to whom one drop of the river of Paradise is plenteous refreshment. He counts Mammon but base, that prizes God: And the wise Merchant cares not to part with all, to purchase the precious Pearl unto him. Did my Will embrace a World, it would still ask more; A World is not enough to my Will: What then should I desire, but what only and fully can answer, and appease my Desire?  
I have but little, 'tis true; and the best is, I want but little. I have but little, yet enough: and that can never be little, that is enough; and what is not enough, when it is at the most, is not much. I lack but little; I have chosen the better part than so, to be careful for many things, when one thing is necessary. Godliness with Contentment is great Gain; said One, that for his Knowledge, knew both how to want, and how to abound: and for his Experience, Having nothing, yet possessed all things. Godliness with Contentment says he? Why that's enough for Man or Christian: Nature invites the one, to be content with a little: and Grace advices the other, Having food and Raiment, therewith to be content. A Man will Content him with Nature's lot and limit: so will a Christian be content with what measure God hath met out unto him. Content is all: The least Portion is enough, the lowest Condition happy, with the aequanimitie of the Bearer. The Man is likest to God, that lacks the least; whose property it is, to have need of Nothing; and to be sufficed with himself. The Contented Man is rich in the midst of Poverty: whereas the Covetous is poor in the midst of Riches. He that can be content with what he hath; wants not, what he hath not: he that is not so, wants what he hath. The Patriarch cared for no more, but Bread to eat, and Raiment to put on: The Wise Man craved neither Poverty, nor Riches; but Convenience only. I will make that enough to me, which God hath given me with a sparing hand. God saw no more was good for me, he therefore gave me no more Whether God gives little, or much, he gives for the best. Better is a little with the Fear of the Lord; than great Treasure, and trouble therewith.; Or say my Estate be not enough to my Will; I can make my Will enough to mine Estate: Namely, while it answers not me accordingly; I can accordingly apply myself to it. He that cannot make his own enough; will never have enough, though all were his own.  
Me thinks I yet see how Crates threw his Gold into the Sea: And hear how Photion told Alexander, that himself was richer, who needed not his great Gift; than was he who gave it: And think how Fabricius thought it a Kingdom, to contemn the Wealth of a King. These knew Gold and Silver was but an elaborate Dust; Wealth was but a toilsome Heap; and all manner of Riches, not such as their own Worth, but the Errors of men had prized, and brought into request. This unnecessary Trash (they knew, & proved) was but an impediment to Virtue; and an enticement to Evil: They therefore (whose best Virtues, were but the best Vices) despised that for Virtue's sake, which they knew to be the matter and means to Vice. Did the Nations abhor, and doth Israel adore the Golden Idol? Is Money less Earth and Dross, than it was of old, or are men's Affections now become more vile and earthy? Have Christians more need of Wealth, than had Pagans? Nay have they not a nearer, safer, fuller Providence within; than have they that were, and are without? How is it now, they prefer the things of this Life before them, that had neither the Knowledge, nor Hope of another and better Life? To leave and contemn the Wealth of the World, is an ordinary Lesson of Philosophy: To heap and adore them then, can be no good Divinity. If Nature could teach Them to neglect them; because they did them no Good: Grace (me thinks) should the rather instruct me not to regard them, because they do me hurt.  
Yea (as I fay) do me hurt: and more hurt, then for which a World can make amends. Both stain my Soul, and damn my Soul: and can a World now both wipe, and quit, this both Gild, and Loss? What shall it profit a Man, if he shall gain the whole World; and lose his own Soul? (saith HE, that doth as much as quite deny, what he doth thus demand) or what shall a man give in exchange for his Soul? An whole World (belike) is not worth a Soul. I were unwise then to hazard my Soul, though it were for a world. I will tell the Worldling what I know, and what he finds. Riches stain the Soul: For a Man doth not lightly and easily become rich, without his Evil and Sinne. Why doth he call it the Unrighteous Mammon? but because Riches and Righteousness seldom go together: But it is common to have Wealth and Wickedness at once. How gets a Man his Wealth, but by Fraud and Oppression? how spends a Man his Wealth, but upon his Pride and Lusts? That must needs be bad outright; which is purchased by bad means, and employed to bad Ends Riches are but base in their Nature; but are even bad in their Effects. He might have been Poor and Innocent together; that is now grown both Guilty, and Rich. Is a man to more good for his Goods? I will never think: Man the better for his Means; since (I see) it is the means to make him worse. But I must tell him withal, what I fear, and what he would loath to find: Riches damn the Soul. It is (woe, ah woe!) too true. Before he begin his Gain, he hath quite lost himself: yet considers not, how he loses all in the loss of himself. The acquisition of his Pelf was at the first sealed with the damnation of his Soul. Who but THEY (the Devil and his Angels) were to fetch away the Rich man's Soul? He bids you understand how headlong he hurries down to Hell; that tells you how hardly he gets up into Heaven: Saying: It is easier for a Camel to go thorough the eye of a needle; than for a Rich man to enter into the Kingdom of God. Briefly, He tells plainly of their Blemish and Vengeance together: They that will be rich fall into temptation, and a Snare; and into many foolish, and hurtful Lusts, which drown men in destruction, and perdition.  
Ah but 'tis a misery (me thinks) to be poor: And there is (we say) No Woe, to Want. The Parenthesis was well put in, both for the pith, and Truth of the Saying. Poverty is a Misery, but it is to them that so make it, because they take it so. Povertie is no burden to him, that can bear it out: None feels the weight of it, but he that fears to undergo it. Not trouble some is it to him that bears it; but to him that will not bear it. Nothing is hard to a willing Mind: to an unwilling is nothing easy. Poverty is grievous to no man; but rather many a Man is so to it. This is the misery of it, that a man will needs make it so to himself. I am worthily wretched, when I will not be otherwise persuaded, but that I am so. In my Mind, he's not poor, that would not be rich: and he lacks nothing, that craves not many things. Tush, tush: No man is poor indeed: and (but in conceit) is no Man rich. He is Poor indeed, that cares to be rich: he's rich enough, that fears not to be Poor. Reach indeed to the Opinion of Men, and who is Rich? But stoop to the Condition of Men, and who is Poor? Nature hath limited a Man to live with little: And shall a Man think him Poor when he hath not wherewithal to transgress Nature's Bounds? There is a kind of Meanness, and Scantness to many a Man: It is their pecuishnesse to call it Baseness, and Beggary: and to reproach it so, and abhor it. Men do miscall, what they know not how to esteem. And as Children are skarred at Bugbears, and fabled or feigned Hobgoblins: so Fools fly this Ghostly and ghastly appearing Poverty by Fire and Water, Sea and Land. Let others think Poverty a woeful misery; I will deem it (as I well prove it) an happy Security. The Poor Man, he does no hurt; he fears no hurt: He is not envied, not hated, not cursed; incures not the treacherous Enmities of Men: He sings, and dances before the Thief; sleeps safe and sound under every Hedge. Nothing hath he, he fears to lose; and lies so low, as whence he cannot fall. I should therefore like Poverty the better, because it is less obnoxious to Fear, and Loss; Who would still trouble him to possess Riches; that must once be more troubled in their Loss? It is safer a great deal, not to Have, than to Lose: And he fare merrier, whom Fortune never respected; than whom she hath now forsaken. The Lesser I am; I am Greater, than whom Change, or Chance may endamage.  
But say Poverty were worse than it is; and I poorer than I am: I am ot other than Others, yea and my Betters have likewise been. What should I tell of poor Kings, Prophets, Apostles, Fathers, Saints? CHRIST himself was Poor: borne of a poor Woman, brought forth in a poor Stable, leapt in poor Clouts, laid in a poor Manger, lived a poor Life: HE, even he hungered, he wanted; he had not wherewith to pay the Due; he had not whereon to lay his Head. Now Worm of Earth, how is it thou covetest so to be rich; sith the God of Heaven and Earth, was so willing to be Poor. What was there in the World, was worthy of God? What cared he then for the worth of a World? Why would he want these Things of ours? but to tell us, that we ourselves might well be without them: Why contemn them? but to teach us not to desire them. My SAVIOUR cared not to be rich, feared not to be Poor: to bid me not trouble myself with so needless Fears, and Cares.  
One thing is, (let the World go the worst with me) I cannot live poorer, than I was Borne; and so must Die. Naked (said the Poor man) came I out of my Mother's Womb; and naked shall I return thither. And the wise man; As he came forth of his mother's womb, naked shall he return to go as he came: and shall take nothing of his Labour, which be may carry away in his hand: In all points as he came, so shall he go; and what profit hath he, that hath laboured for the Wind? Come naked, Go naked; Bring nothing, Carry nothing: To what purpose then do Men get and gather those things which they once had not; and once must not have? These things of ours; here only we have them; and we leave them here. Said I of Ours? How are they Ours, which at first were not so; and at last shall not so be? That is ours, which we bring with us; but that another's, which we get unto us: That is Ours, which we keep with us; but that another's, which we leave behind us. That is a man's Own, which is not added to a Man; which is not taken from a Man; which is not one man's more than another's. A Man's Soul is a man's own: Riches are not so. Oh hazard not your own, to have the Things that are not yours! He fitly called them uncertain Riches: They uncertain to us; and we likewise to them. They Uncertain: Now ours, now others; now gotten, now gone. Nothing is Certain in Riches, but uncertainty. So He expressly; Riches Certainly make themselves Wings, They fly away, as an Eagle towards Heaven. An Eagle flies suddenly, flies swiftly: So are Riches gone instantly, gone irrecoverably. These things of ours, they go from us by more ways than one. Either thy Fade of themselves; or we Consume them; or others Deprive us of them. Our Food is subject to putrefaction; our Garments to the Moth, and fretting; our Gold and Silver to the rust and canker; our Lands to bareness and barrenness; and our Houses to rottenness and ruin. Fire may devour them, Water swallow them, Enemies spoil them, or Thiefs purloin them. O vain Man! How is it thou now trustest in a Thing so vain? Trust not in uncertain Riches: Set not thine eyes upon the Thing that is not: Yea, let me say to One, and All of you: Lay not up for yourselves Treasures upon Earth, where Moth and Rust doth corrupt; and where Thiefs break thorough and steal: But lay up for yourselves Treasures in Heaven, where neither Moth and Rust doth corrupt, and where Thiefs do not break thorough and steal. We also are uncertain:. Did not Riches leave us; yet must we leave them at last. Death is not drawn to partiality; nor can she be corrupted: Gold and Silver will not hire her to wink at the Wealthy. As dieth the Poor Man: so dieth the Rich. She knocks as readily, and equally at the Kings, as at the Beggar's Door. Death (when she comes) comes not to take his Wealth from the Rich man; but rather the Rich man from his Wealth. That Rich Glutton had laid up enough in store for many years: but that Night They (Death and the Devil) they fetched away his Soul. His Goods were yet laid up; but his Soul now was fetched away. Trustless, yea and Witless Wretch he was! Trustless, in that (denying the Providence of God) he laid up for so many years: Witless, not considering how (for his own Frailty) he could not promise that Night unto himself. To what end should I lay up for many Years; when I am not sure, my years shall be many? Why should I so greedily get That to me; which I know not how readily I may be fetched from, or it from me? Wherefore should I provide for so long, when my journey is not fare? The little I have, may (for what I know) outlast my Life. I have (I know) but a little way Home; and I do not mean to make a Burden of my Provision. I would have my Shoe but fitted to my Foot: a Cloak too large or long, would but tyre me to travel in. It is to Live, as to Swim; easiest for him that is the lightest. So I have sufficient for to Day; let to Morrow take care for itself. Why should my Care be for the Morrow; when I am not sure the Morrow shall be mine? He that likes not my Resolution, let him read my Warrant, and understand it. Take no thought for the Morrow; for the Morrow shall take thought for the Things of itself. Sufficient unto the Day is the Evil thereof: I do not mean to make it the worse to me, by adding mine own unto it. Neither will I riot and waste, because I may die to Morrow: nor yet Covet and scrape, because to Morrow may be mine to live. He that so spends the Things of the World, as if he were to Die now; so spares, as if he wert to Live yet: the same uses the World, as if he used it not: And is richer in the Enjoyment of a small Portion; than is the other in the Keeping of the largest Heap.  
Churlish Death! (thou sayest) and the rather so; to threaten a Separation betwixt Thee & Thine: than betwixt Thee and thyself. Thou irkest less (I know) thy Body and Souls final Dissolution; than thy Mind & moneys lest Division. Thou art married to thy MAMMON: tied in a Knot unto it, which Death only must undo. Thou art one with thy Wealth: and ere thou wilt not be covetous, thou wilt not Be. Hug thy Heaps yet a while; and kiss every Face of thy Coin: Where thy Treasure is, there let thy Heart yet be: Death shall scatter thy Treasure, when she hits thy Heart. While thou thinkest on what thou hast laid up; that Night (thou thinkest not on) shall come. Then shall their Heap stay behind thee; and their Gild only shall go with thee: And thy Money moreover shall merit thee this Memorial:  
BEneath this Stone,  
There lieth One;  
No matter for his Name.  
But base by Birth;  
He once kept Earth:  
And now Earth keeps the same.  
For all his Store,  
He was but Poor;  
Even wanting what he had:  
Making himself  
A Slave to Pelf;  
No Slave so base, so bad.  
His Thoughts were caring,  
Carcase sparing;  
To pamper up his Purse:  
He lived a Hog;  
Died like a Dog:  
And's gone with many a Curse.  
HIs Mind was Gold;  
His Corpse is Mould;  
Which now lies rotting here:  
This, with the Dust,  
That, and the Rust,  
Shall once again appear.  
God, Friends, and Health,  
Were all to Wealth  
Neglected, and Contemned:  
Wherefore to Devils;  
Foes, Woes, and Evils;  
he's justly now Condemned.