THE DEFENCE of Death.  
Containing a most excellent discourse of life and death, written in French by Philip de Mornaye Gentleman.  
And done into English by E. A.  
Imprinted at London by john Allde for Edward Aggas dwelling in Paul's Churchyard at the sign of the read Dragon. 1576.   

To the right honourable, his singular good Lady, the most godly and virtuous Lady, Margaret Countess of Derby, grace and peace in our Lord jesus Christ.  
Notwithstanding that the natural dispo sition (right Honourrable) of all humane creatures, aught most sufficiently to instruct us in the know ledge of our own frailty, & so consequently enforce us unto a continual and earnest desire of death, which assuredly is no other than a translation and passage of our souls out of this transitory habitation, into an everlasting & parmanent house, exempt from manifold miseries and inconveniences, whereunto this our painful Pilgrimage is still subject, yet for as much as the weakness and imperfection of our carnal understanding is such, as that it cannot comprehend or perceive the infinite and inestimable benefits, which at all times through death we do obtain, but rather doth enforce us to fear the same as some sharp tempest or grievous passage. I thought it not amiss to translate out of France into this our native soil of England, this brief but most excellent discourse, first written in French by a godly and learned Christian, for the great comfort of all Christ's members: and now do on into English for the benefit of such as therein will seek to reap any commodity, the rehearsal of the contents whereof by reason of the brevity of the same, seemeth both needles & superfluous. Nevertheless seeking the protection of some honourable parsonage, whose countenance and authority might sbeelde and defend aswell the rudeness of the translation, as also the raggidnes of the stile thereof, from the bitter taunts and biting scoffs of cru●…l reprehension, and therewithal calling to mind not o●… lie your most honourable and virtuous disposition & authority, but also the manifold benefits which●… most bountifully you have at all times upon me unworthy bestowed. I accounted it my bound duty, as only an acknowledging of the receipt of the same: to present unto your honours favourable tuition, these fruits of my small labours, with most humble request to accept of them as the excellency of the argument deserveth. Thus assuredly hoping in your most honourable wunted clemency, & trusting that here in you will vouchsafe to pardon this my so bold and rash attempt, I shall always (according to my bound duty) pray to the almighty, long to maintain your Honour'S wealth and felicity, to your co●… for't and his glory.  
Your honours most bound and humble servant. E. A.   

To the Reader.  
AS CONCERNING the Argument of this discourse, it tendeth especially to the overthrow of the continual presumption that we have to obtain in this life the thing which since the transgression of our forefathers never was, neither ever shallbe, as is evident in the displaying of man, even from his beginning to his ending.  
Also as touching this word Fortune. (which in diverse parts of his treatise is incident) I am to desire that it may be taken as an usual or ra there importunate phrase of our language, the which in place of utter abolishing the same doth but overmuch use it, because that things commonly chancing contrary unto natural reason, or the common sense of man's wit, have in imitating the language of the Heathen, by our ancestors, been commonly attributed unto Lady Fortune.  
Finally, in that I have brought in, in the end the heathen Philosopher See 〈◊〉 uttering of his mind, I am likewise to require that it be not taken as an argument of want of other sufficient and authentical testimony of the most ancient Christian fathers touching this matter: but rather I would have you to know, that I accounted him being a stranger, more fit with his exclamations, earnestly to waken us out of our drowsy nests, for that his knowledge proceeded only of learned & natural judgement, conjoined with some experience which he had of the vain frailty of man's nature, and so to seem to guide us into a better Haven, than himself could ever enter into, or by his own example testify unto others.  
Far you well.   

A brief and most excellent Discourse upon life and death.  
IT is a strange matter whereat I cannot sufficiently mer●…le, to behold how the labourer to the end to cease from his labours ' doth even in manner hasten the course of the Sun. The Mariner for the attaining unto the desired Haven, saileth forward amain, and from as far as he can espy the cost, to shout out for 〈◊〉. And the Pilgrim or travailer, to take no rest before his journey be ended. And yet that man in the mean time being bond to perpetual labour, tossed with continual tempests, and tired with many rough and miry pa●…es: is nevertheless unwilling to look upon or come near to the end of ●…is journey: sorrowful to see the Haven of his assured rest: and with horror and fear to draw toward his lodging and peaceable dwelling place.  
Our life resembleth a right Penelope's web, which still must be woven and woven again: a Sea habandoned to all winds, which sometime inward lie sometime outwardly tormenteth it: and a troublesome path, through frost and extreme heat: over steepy m●…untaines and hollow valleys, among deserts and thievish places.  
This is the communication that we do use, being at our work, pulling at our Ore, and passing through this miserable path and rough way. And yet when death cometh to finish our labours, when she stretcheth forth her arm to help us into the Haven, and when after so many passages and troublesome hostryes, she seeketh to bring us into our true habitation: into a place of comfort and joy, where we should take heart at the view of our land, and drawing toward our happy dwelling place, should sing and rejoice: we would if we might ha●…e our own wills, begin our work again: return our Sails into the wind, and voluntarily retire back into our journey. Then do we no longer remember our pains, our shipwrecks and p●…ils are forgotten, we do reject all fear, either of travail or thieves, and do account death as an extreme pain, fear it as a Rovers ship bofe, and shun it as a thievish place. We play as young children, who having all day complained of sickness, do become whole at the sight of the mediciné: we resemble men vexed with the tooth ache, who all the week do run about for help, and yet seeing the Barber coming to pull out their teeth, do feel no more pain: and are not unlike unto those dainty and delicate people, who at the pricking of the Pleurisy cry out, and cannot patiently abide the coming of the Surgeon, and 〈◊〉 when they see him whetting of his lance to cut the throat of the disease, do pull their arm back and creep into their bedꝭ again, as if he minded to slay their own people. We stand in more fear of the Medicine, then of the disease: of the Barber, then of the pain: and of the pricking, then of the Impostume.  
We stand in more awe of the bitterness of the medicine which is soon over passed, then of a long and languishing pain: and do more tremble at the end of our miseries, then at the infinite number of those which in this life we do sustain. But whereof (I pray you) proceedeth this folly and simplicity, saving only that we know not what it is, either of life or death. For we do fear the thing that we should hope for, and do desire the thing whereof we should be afeard. We term that thing life that is a continual death, and that death which is the issue out of a living death, and an entry into everlasting life.  
What goodness is there I pray you in this life, why we should so earnestly seek the same? or what evil is there in death that we should so diligently eschew the apprehension thereof? nay what evil is there not in this life, or what goodness doth not death comprehend?  
Let us therefore examine all the points of this life. Our entry is in tears, our procée●…ing in sweat and labour, and our ending in bitter sorrow. High and low, rich and poor, none in the universal world can say himself exempt from this condition. Man is worse than 〈◊〉 in these points. At his birth he is not able to m●…ue him self: in his first years he hath no pleasure, and bringeth nothing with him but sorrow and travail, and before the years of discretion incurreth infinite dangers, and yet then in one respect is more happy than afterward, which is that he 〈◊〉 neither ●…are nor consider the same: neither is there any so ●…aintharted, but that if he might still continued a Child, he would never mystic of such a life: so that it is manifest that it is not a commodity simply to live, but to live blessedly & happily. Let us proceed. Grows he? his labours do grow with him: scarce is he escaped the hands of his Nurses, or knoweth what play is: but by and by he is committed to the hands of some schoolmaster (I speak of those that be best and most curiously brought up) then if he play, he is still in fear: if he study, it is against his will. All this age, because he is in the custody of an other, is to him a prison: he mindeth or aspyreth to nothing, but how to be set free from the subjection of other men, and so become master & guider of himself yea to his power he beveth forward his age even with his shoulders, whereby the sooner to attain to his wished liberty. To be brief, he seeketh only th'end of his nonage and entry into his youth. But I pray you what other is this entry into youth, saving the death of his infancy: and afterward his coming to man's age, the death of his youth: and the beginning of to morrow, than the death of this day? so that in this wise he desireth death, accounting life miserable, and therefore cannot be esteemed happy or contented. Well, having his liberty he hath got his desire, he hath attained to the age wherein Hercules by Godis permission had his choice of the pa●… to virtue or vice, by the conduct either of reason or of passion: he must enter into one of these contrary ways. His passion presenteth to him a thousand pleasures, it layeth for him a thousand 〈◊〉, & setteth before him a thousand delightꝭ where by to entrap him, yea he is almost deceived. But I pray you what kind of pleasures doth he receive thereof? forsooth vicious pleasures, which keep him in continual pain & unquietness, pleasures sub 〈◊〉 to repentance, which like unto gnawingꝭ do boil a great while after: pleasures boughtwith pain & danger, practised an●… passed in a moment, and followed with a long and tedious remorse of conscience. Such (if a man will examine them (is in few words, the nature of woorldly pleasures. There is none so sweet, but that the bitterness of the same doth surmount it: none of so pleasant taste, but that it leaveth a more sour smack and grievous disdain behind it. Yea and which worse is, none●… so moderate, but that it hath his corrosive and punishment in itself.  
I need not here rehearse such displeasures as no man can deny, as strife, debate, wounds, murder, flight, diseases, and other hasards, which sometime his own incontinency, and sometimes the insolency of this unruly age bringeth him into. So that the pleasures there of being but displeasures, or his sorrow drunk as a mixtion with wormwood water, it plainly appeareth what grief & bitterness he feeleth or tasteth of. This to be brief, is the life of a young man, who being got out of the lawful wardeshippe of either his Parents or masters, yieldeth and abandoneth himself unto all licence, or rather indeed bondage of his passion, which neither more nor less, but as an unclean spirit that possesseth him doth still vex & 〈◊〉 him, sometime into the fire, other while into the water, an other time lifteth him unto the top of a Rock, and afterward throweth him into the bottom of a valley.  
Again if he accepteth reason for his guide, then falls he into manifold dangers. Then must he be ready to fight at the end of every field and at every tract or step stand ready at defence, as one having his enemy round 〈◊〉 him and still vexing of him.  
But what enemy? Even his own the, and what so ever he liketh of far or near. To be brief, the greatest enemy in the world, the very world itself, yea, which is worse, a thousand false and dangerous intelligences with in his own person, besides other despe rate passions proceeding of his own flesh, which in that age is in full force and power, watching the time, hour and opportunity to entrap him, and to cast him headlong into all kind of vice.  
God only and no other enforceth him to take this way, who guideth his steps even to the end, granting him victory in all his combats, and yet we 〈◊〉 how ●…ew do enter into that path, and of those, how many afterward do retire again?  
Well, let him follow either the one way or the other, he must fully resolve himself, either to yield to a tyrannous passion, or else to undertake a perpetual and grievous warfare: yea, either to cast himself down he●…long, or else to bind and in manner commit his person to the stocks and torments: either delicately to swim down the stream, or else forcibly with labour and travail to strive against the same.  
Thus in few words on the one side, you see how the youngman who in his youth hath quaffed of by full cups the false and vain pleasures of this world, (resembling drunkards the next day after their feasts & royotous banquets) is either quite astonished, either so far out of taste and temper that he will no more, or else is finally so quailed that he can no more, and then doth never afterward thin●…k or speak of the same with out his great grief and sorrow.  
On the otherside, you may also perceive how faint, weary, and as it were even broken with this continual ●…il he is, which valiantly hath embraced reason, and overcome his passions, in so much that he is either ready to yield, or else content by death to acquit himself from farther peril. This is the commodity and contentation of this flourishing age which Children do so earnestly aspire unto, and old men repined at.  
Next followeth the age of perfect man, wherein each one hopeth of wisdom, and taking his own ease. Perfect in deed it may be called, but in this only respect, that all the imperfections of human nature, which before, either under the simplicity of Childhood, or else under the lightness of youth lay hidden, are therein revealed and do come to perfection. Wherefore we will overpass all such as worldly judgement accounteth wise, happy or blessed, and come to the rest.  
hitherto as you see, we have always played in fear, and enjoyed short pleasures, accompanied with long repentance.  
But now cometh to sight Covetousness and Ambition, which do promise unto us a full contentation of goods, and a world of honours in case we will worship them: whereupon, few (except the assured choose Children of the almighty) can escape, but either for love of the one, or else for hope of the other (as being snared in their beautiful illusions) do throw themselves headlong from the pinnacle. What therefore is the end of all this contentation?  
The covetous man maketh a thousand voyages by sea and by land, incurreth infinite dangers of pirates & thieves, escapeth wonderful perils and Shipwrecks, and liveth in continual fear and danger, yea and often loseth all his time and labour, reaping naught else but diseases, gouts, with such other like discommodities for the time to come. For the obtaining of his premeditated ease, he now hath foregone his quietness, and in seeking for money: hath lost his life. But admit be hath obtained great wealth, that he hath rob the East countries of their pearls, and dried up all the western mines, shall ●…e them be at quiet, or will be think him self satisfied? Admit also all his fraughts and voyages be ended, and that through his passed travails with labour and toil both of body and mind, he hath sufficiently heaped and hoarded up for time to come, is he not fallen out of one inconvenience into an other? This then is no end but a change of his misery.  
Aforetime he sought the obtaining of goods, now he seareth the loss of the same: he got them through painful heat and travail, he now possesseth them in quaking cold and trembling: he hath incurred danger of rovers and thieves in seeking for them: now thieves and murderres do on alsides assail him. He too pains to dig and hale them out of the Earth: he now laboureth to hide them up again. To be brief, after all his voyages and journeys he is entered into a prison, and as a conclusion of all his bodily labours he hath begun an infinite trouble of mind. What therefore finally hath this poor wretch obtained, as a recompense of so many miseries? Through the manifold illusions and enchantments of this devilish spirit of covetousness, be persuadeth himself to have got some exquisite and rare Jewel, but is indeed handled as one of those poor wretches whom the Devil seduceth under colour of aiding their necessities, and yet having obtained bis purpose, leaveth their hands yea and Coffers full of leaves and Ashes, in stead of Erownes and such like. He possesseth or ra●…er is possessed of a thing without force or vertne, able to cure no disease: more vile and unprofitable than the lest herb of the field. With all his labour and pain, he hath heaped up this vile mire and dirt, where with all he is become so beastly as with that thing to Crown his head, which naturally he should tread under his f●…t. Well be it as be may, is he there withal content? Nay contrariwise hath he not less contentation than before? Man cominonly commendeth those meatis and drinkꝭ which do best nourish, sustain, and kéen nature in temper, but the quality of these is such, as the more we eat or drink thereof: the sorer increaseth our hunger and thirst. It is an assured dropsy and a false hunger (as we term it) a man shall sooner burst then be satisfied. Yea which is more, such sway beareth this thirst in many that forcing them to dig the wells and with great pain to draw up the w●… ●…er: & doth not afterward perinit them to drink of that same. In the full r●…er they suffer thirst, and among the heaps of corn do perish through famine. They ●…aue goods but dare not use them, and do (in my opinion) enjoy things wherein they cannot reivyce. They have them, but neither for themselves neither for any other, yea of all that they have, they have nothing, and yet do want what so ever they have not. Wherefore we are to return to this point, that the obtaining of all these false goods is no other, than travail of the body, the possession whereof, is most commonly trouble of mind, and that so much the greater, as the spirit is more sensible, subtle, and delicate than the body. The first feeling therefore of the covetous man's misery beginneth when he loseth his goods, when shipwreck, spoil, enemies, & such like calamities (whereunto all transitory goods are subject) doth ravish & carry them away: then he weepeth, crieth out & tormenteth himself like a little child that hath lost his babble & all to no purpose. It is unpossible to persuade him, that all worldly goods are transitory: he thinketh him sel●…●…ot only spoilt but even slain outright, and having fixed his whole trust in these vanities, the same being lost he falls into despair, from the which be may hardly be revoked: yea and so much as he wanteth of his gain, whereof he made a full account, he thinketh himself to have lost: and all that yieldeth him not great and extraordinary commodity, seemeth in his eye to turn to his hindrance, whereby we sometime see him fall into such despair, that to his power he hasteneth the course of his own life.  
To be brief, the recompense that Covetousness yieldeth to his continual scholars, resembleth the rewardis of the Devil his progenitor, namely that having awhile gratified them with their profane desires, he finally either delivereth them over to the hangman, or else himself breaketh their necks. I mind not here to rehearse, such offences and mischiefs as the covetous men do abandon themselves unto for the obtaining of their goods whereof their consciences do feel such a perpetual remorse as that they can never be quiet, for it is sufficient that we understand that in this so violent an exercise wherein most mortal men do stay & abuse themselves, the body is slain, the mind vexed, and the soul condemned without any pleasure or contentation at all.  
Now then let us come to ambition which with desire of honour doth fond bewitch the mightiest in the world: shall we there in find any more ease than in the other, or not rather less? The other deceiveth us in yielding in lieu or all rewards, only the vile dirt of the earth, this feedeth us with nothing but smoke and wind. The presents of this are vain, and the gifts of the other course. In either of them we slide into a bottomless pit: howbeit this of the twain is the most dangerous, notwithstanding the water seemeth more pleasant & clearly. Among those that have embraced ambition, some do obtain great estimation among Kings & Princes, other become governors over armies, and so others in their degree: their inferiors do salute, reverence, and worship them: they are appareled in purple, scarlet, and clot of gold: in beholding of them it seemeth there is no contentation in the world but there's. But few men know the weight of an ounce of thi●… their glory and honour, how much these reverences do cost them, or what is the price of all this rich array in their Purses: for understanding the truth they would be loath to buy any so dear.  
Some through long and tedious service have attained to this degree, some by hazaroing their lives at all assays, yea 〈◊〉 at the cost of an arm or a leg, and that at the appetite of a Prince, who perhaps accounteth more of a hundred Rods of land within his neighbour's dominions, then of the life of an hundred thousand such as they are, being herein unhappy in that they serve him who careth not for them and fools in that they think themselves in reputation with him, which esteemeth so little of the loss of them for a tri●…e & thing of nothing. Others have got favour by flattery, having of long time enured their tongues to undiscrese speeches and their handis to unlaw full dealings, saying and doing what so e●…er their prince willeth them, whereunto a good heart could hardly be won.  
They have peradventure patiently born infinite injuries, spyting and revilingꝭ; yea how familiar so ever they seem with their prime, they do not with standing resemble him who 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 the taming of a wild Lion, & through long patience. with infinite baits and many scratching & bite have brought him to some order, dare vevertheles scarce deliver him any food with their hand, still fering jest he should catch hold of the same, & yet be he never so aware is once a year entrapped & sufficiently rewarded for a long time. For such for the most part is the end of all the princes darlings, who when he hath by long brethings exalted any so high as that he should accounted himself at his ●…orneys end, them suddenly doth he delight to cast the same party down headlong again as low as he was at the first: yea & him whom he hath mightily enriched, he doth afterward wring as a sponge. They also do love none but themselves, supposing each one to be created only for their service & pleasure, These blind cortiers do persuade themselves to have many fréendis, & to be had in great estimation among many, not considering the every man honoureth them with like hearts, as they honour others. The mighty men do disdain them, saluting them only in scorn, the inferior sort do reverence them for the they stand in ●…éed of them, & therein do worship their ●…cation, seat & apparel, not their people. And as for those which be equal among whom amity aught to take some place, they boil with envy, one slandereth an other, each one trippeth another, and do continually pine away either with their own discommodities, or at others advancement: for envy being in ●…a ner an ache of the mind, is the greatest grief that can be: and thus do you see those men quite devoid of amity, which among all wise men is ever accounted a most excellent and sovereign commodity. Yea you shall more plainly yet understand, that when Fortune turneth her back to them, all men do flee their companies, and when she snarreth at them, every man looketh awry upon them: so that being once spoilt of their triumphant robes, no man will know them. Also contrariwise, some Kuffian or infamous person shall be clothed in their apparel, who without difference in virtue or title shall inherit their calling, possess all their former honours, and puff them themselves up in pride, like unto the Ass which bore the Image of the Goddess Isis, who was proud of so many courtesies as were done to the same, and finally that Fortune rideth them like Asses.  
But thou will't say, (at the lest so long as she continueth) they shall take their ease, and enjoy their own contentation: and who that hath his pleasure for three or four years more or less, is not accursed all his life time. Yes assuredly, unless it be ease to live in continual fear of being thrown from the step whereunto he hath attained: or to desire with great travail to climb still higher and higher. Those (my friend) whom thou accountest at their ease because thou seest but the outsides of them, are far other wise within: their inward parts are strong prisons, full of dungeons, holes, darchnesse, serpents and torments. Thou thinkest their lodgings large, which in their opinions are very straight. Thou supposest them very high, but they accounted themselves to be very low. Yea and often, he which but thinketh himself sick: is worse at ease than he which is sick in deed. And there be some, even Kings: who think themselves but slaves, & indeed are nothing else, for we are nothing but in opinion.  
Thou see●…t them accompanied with many soldiers, and the same whom they have choose for their guard, do they mistrust. Alone or in company they are always in fear: being alone they look behind them, and in company round about them. They drink in vessels of gold or silver, and that is the same rathen earth or glass wherein men fill and drink poison. They have their beds very soft and delicately trimmed up, neither may they hear a mouse ron thorough their chamber, or suffer a fly to come near their faces: when as a poor country man sleepeth by the noise of a spring or in a market place, having no bed but earth, nor covering but heaven: and yet these men among all their quietness and dainty lodging, do nothing but turn and toss up and down in their beds, still imagining that they hear some stirring, yea even their rest takes no rest at all.  
To be brief, wilt thou know the difference between them and the hardest entreated prisoners? Either of them are chained up, each of them beareth a weighty burden upon them, but in that the one is of Iron and the other of Gold: so is the one chained but in body, and the other in mind.  
The Prisoner draweth his Irons after him, the Courtier is chained up in himself. The Prisoner many tlmes is inwardly comforted through his bodily pains, and singeth in the chief of his misery. The Courtier being tormented in his mind doth continually labour his body and cannot thereunto give any respite.  
And as for the contentation which thou imaginest them to have, thou art far wide. Thou judgest and thinkest them mighty because they be highly exalted, but therein thou art as wise as he which accounteth a dwarf sitting on the top of a steeple or upon an high hill to be a tall man. Thou art so good a Geometrician, that thou mesurest the Image by his pillar, which to know the true proportion, should be measured alone, net there ne●… thou the height of the thing, but of the place whereon it is fixed. Cast down therefore thy view and thou shalt perceive all to be as nothing. Thou judgest them mighty (if mightiness may be on Earth) which in respect of Heaven, is but as nothing. But if thou couldst enter into their minds, thou wouldst be of an other opinion. For true greatness consists in despising all these vain points of greatness whereunto they be slaves, which also in their opinion they have not attained unto, for still they desire to climb higher, and seem to themselves never to be high enough.  
You shall see one cast thus in his mind. If I might attain to such a degree, than were I well content, there would I stay: Having attained thereunto, he doth scarce take breath, but would feign yet climb higher. That which when he was below seemed to him the highest, is now in his opinion scarce one step. He thinketh himself low, be cause there be some higher than he, but he considereth not himself to be on high, for that there be many thousands lower than he. Yea, in the end be clymeth so high, that either his wind faileth in the way, or else he slippeth ●…edlong down again: or in case with extreme pain he attaineth to his desire, then is he as it were on the top of the Alpes, but not above the clouds, or past winds or tempest: but rather in the midst of the thunder and lightning, or of what horrible and dangerous matter so ever the Air engendereth or conceiveth: which for the most part delighteth in thundering, and bringing to dust their presnmptuous highness.  
It may be you will (through the examples whereof, both Histories and man's memory are replenished) grant me this point, and will say. Those men whom nature hath brought forth with the Crown on their heads, and sceptre in their hands: those whom even from their birth she hath placed in so eminent thrones, and so have not laboured to climb thither, do seem without contradiction, to be exempt from all these injuries, and so consequently may say themselves happy.  
It may be indeed, that they do lest ●…éel those discommodities, by reason of their birth, nourishment, and bringing up, even as they who being born near to the river Nilus, do become deaf at the noise thereof, or in a prison, do not complain of the restraint of liberty: or among the Cimmerians where is continual night, do not desire the day: or on the Alpes do not find themselves so much grieved with mists, tempests of Snow, and such other like wether.  
But certainly they be not clearly exempt, when a sudden thunderbolt cracketh one flower of their Crown, or in their hands breaketh their Sceptre. When a wave of snow wrappeth them up, or when a mist of sorrow and care doth perpetually blind their minds and understanding. They be crowned, but with a Crown, which indeed is o●… thorns. They have a sceptre in their handis but of a reed, which more than any other earthly thing bendeth and obeyeth to every wind: yea and every such Crown is so far wide from healing these diseases of the mind, and every such Sceptre from driving away and scaring the thoughts and cares which flicker about men, ●…hat con trariwise it is the Crown and Sceptre which bringeth all the same about them. O Crown says the Persian Emperor, who so known how heavy thou art on the head, would not vouchs●…, finding thee even in the high way to take the up. This Prince seemed to himself to give estates unto all the world, to distribute hap and mishap at his pleasure unto men, and was able in outward show to set every man at ease and yet himself doth freely confess that in all the world (which he held in his hand) was nothing but grief and misery.  
What also will all other men say in case they be disposed to utter their minds? We will not rehearse those who have through a shameful death finished their miserable lives, neither such as have seen their kingdoms buried before their faces, and in great calamities hau●… long overlyved their mightiness, yea even Denis of Sicil, who was better content with a handful of rods wherewith to scourge the children of Corinth in a school: then with the sceptre with the which he had beaten all Sicil. And Silla who having rob the whole common wealth of Rome (which had spoiled the whole world) could never take any rest until he had of his own accord deposed himself, to the incredible hazard of all his authority & power. But let us require the opinion of king Solomon, being endued with the singular graces of God, rich and mighty in all things, who sought the tr●…asures even in the islands themselves: he by his manifest Book will teach us, that having tried all the felicities of the earth, he hath found nothing but vanity, labour & trouble of mind.  
Let us ask the Emperor Augustus, the peaceable possessor of all the world. He will be wail his life passed in infinite tra●…ails, and will wish the quietness of the meanest man in the world, accounting that day most blessed wherein he might dispatch himself of this insupportable greatness, to the end to live quietly among the meaner sort of people. Of Tiberius his successor he will confess, that he holdeth the Empire as a wolf by the ears, and that if he could without danger of being bitten he would willingly let go the same. He will complain of Fortune, which hath guided him so high, and then taken away the Ladder, that he cannot afterward come down again. Dioclesian a worldly, wise and virtuous Prince, will prefer his voluntary banishment to Solon, before the whole Roman Empire. To be brief, the Emperor Charles the fifth (whom our age doth accounted the happiest that lined in many years) will curse unto us his conquests, his victories, and his triumphs, and will not be ashamed to say, that he hath found more ease in comparison in one day in his vowed solitariness: then in all the rest of his triumphant life.  
Shall we then accounted those blessed in this their imagined greatness, who do accounted themselves accursed, seeking their felicity in the diminishing of their estate, who also in the universal world cannot find any one convenient place of rest for their greatness, neither any bed whereupon they may take their quiet sleep?  
Happy is he only who liveth contented in his mind, and far more accursed than any, is he that can be content with nothing. Miserable then was Pirrus King of Albany, who sought for to conquer the whole world, whereby (sayeth he) to obtain quietness, and yet seeketh so far for that thing which is so near his hand. But far more miserable was Alexander, in the he being born king of a mighty Realm & almost conqueror of the whole world, sought for other worlds where with to satisfy his foolish ambtion  
But certainly they be not clearly exempt, when a sudden 〈◊〉 cracketh one ●…ower of their Crown, or in their hands breaket●… 〈◊〉 S●…pter. 〈◊〉 a wave of 〈◊〉 wrappeth them up, or when a 〈◊〉 of sorrow and care 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 ●…nde their minds and 〈◊〉. They be crow●…ed, but with a Cro●…n, which indeed is of 〈◊〉. They have a scep●…er in their 〈◊〉 but of a r●…d, which more than any 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 bendeth and obeyeth to every win●…: yea and every such Crown is so far wide from healing those diseases of the mind, and ●…uery such Sceptre from dri●…ing away and scaring the 〈◊〉 and cares w●…ch 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, hat con 〈◊〉 it is 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 Sceptre 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 all th●… 〈◊〉 about t●…m. 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 Persian Empero●…, 〈◊〉 ●…o known how ●…uy thou a●… o●… 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, him 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 all 〈◊〉 and yet himself doth freely confess that in all the world (which he held in his hand) was nothing but grief and misery.  
What also will all other men say in case they be disposed to utter their minds? We will not rehearse those who have through a shameful death finished their miserable lives, neither such as have seen their kingdoms ●…uried before their faces, and in great calamities hau●… long overlyved their mightiness, yea even Denis of Sicil, who was better content with a handful of rods wherewith to scourge the children of Corinth in a school: then with the sceptre with the which he had beaten all Sicil. And Silla who having rob the whole common wealth of Rome (which had spoiled the whole world) could never take any rest until he had of his own accord deposed himself, to the incredible hazard of all his authority & power. But let us require the opinion of king Solomon, being endued with the singular graces of God, rich and mighty in all things, who sought the treasures even in the islands themselves: he by his manifest Book will ●…each us, that having tried all the ●…elicities of the earth, he hath found nothing but vanity, labour & trouble of mind.  
Let us ask the Emperor Augustus, the peaceable possessor of all the world. He will bewail his life passed in infinite travails, and will wish the quietness of the meanest man in the world, accounting that day most blessed wherein he might dispatch himself of this insupportable greatness, to the end to live quietly among the meaner sort of people. Of Tiberius his successor he will confess, that he holdeth the Empire as a wolf by the ears, and that if he could without danger of being bitten he would willingly let go the same. He will complain of Fortune, which hath guided him so high, and then taken away the Ladder, that he cannot afterward come down again. Dioclesian a worldly, wise and virtuous Prince, will prefer his voluntary banishment to Solon, before the whole Roman Empire. To be brief, the Emperor Charles the fifth (whom our age doth accounted the happiest that lived in many years) will curse unto us his conquests, his victories, and his triumphs, and will not be ashamed to say, that he hath found more ease in comparison in one day in his vowed solitariness: then in all the rest of his triumphant life.  
Shall we then accounted those blessed in this their imagined greatness, who do accounted themselves accursed, seeking their felicity in the diminishing of their estate, who also in the universal world cannot find any one convenient place of rest for their greatness, neither any bed whereupon they may take their quiet sleep?  
Happy is he only who liveth contented in his mind, and far more accursed than any, is he that can be content with nothing. Miserable then was Pirrus King of Albany, who sought for to conquer the whole world, whereby (sayeth he) to obtain quietness, and yet seeketh so far for that thing which is so near his hand. But far more miserable was Alexander, in the he being born king of a mighty Realm & almost conqueror of the whole world, sought for other worlds wherewith to satisfy his foolish ambtion and yet within three days after was contented with six or seven foot of earth.  
To be brief, if they be born on the top of the Alpes, they seek to climb into Heaven. If they have conquered the Kings of the Earth, then have they sun quarrels to ple ade with God, and seek to diminish his dominions: they never have any end or final term before that God laughing to scorn in their vain driftꝭ (when they think themselves on the highest staff of the Ladder) do thunder down all this their presumption, breaketh in pieces the Sceptre in their hands, and many times overthroweth them with their own Crowns.  
Finally, in few words to rehearse all the bliss that may be comprehended in whatsoever ambition promises to them. They endure much evil to the end to obtain evil. They suppose by climbing higher toget from this evil, when as the height whereunto so painfully they do aspire, is the very root of the same.  
I speak not here of the misery of those who all their lives having held out their hatꝭ to catch the liberalities of courtlike Fortune, and yet can get nothing, who sometimes also even with wonderful heart-burning, shall see some one who having taken less pain shall receive the rewards out of their hands: who through thrusting themselves for ward have lost the same, yea and peradventure thrown into a third man's hand, who never stirred for the same: out of the hands of those who with over straining of it have let it escape through their fingers, and so lost it. Those men are of all men accounted accursed and are so in deed, in as much as them selves do so think. Let it therefore suffice you, that all the liberalities which the Devil throweth among us out of his windows are but baits, that all his rewards are but snares, and that he seeketh to enjoy us only, who do thrust ourselves forward for such things, as most accursed is he that hath most hap in meeting with the same.  
Well will some say, the covetous man hath no commodity of all his goods, the ambitious man hath nothing but evils: either of them to say truth doth indeed frame to themselves an assured hell in this world. But may there not be some one who tending to the law or remaining about the Prince, may peacibly enjoy these goods without following these outrageous motions, and obtain some honour with quietness and contentation of his mind? Surely in the first ages when as their remained among men yet some sincerity, there might be such: but now that they be framed as in these days we see them, I can perceive no means how it should be. In these days deal you in any worldly affairs, either you must do well or evil. If evil, God is your enemy & you have your conscience a tormentor continually vexing of you. If well, then are men your adversaries, yea and that the mightiest among them, whose envy and evil will doth watch you, and whose cruelty and tyranny doth perpetually threaten you. Please the people and you please a beast, in pleasing of whom you shall displease yourself. Please yourself and you shall displease God. Please god, and you shall incur a thousand worldly dangers & sustain a thousand dispel asures: which is the cause, that hearing the speeches of the honester sort & of those which be best contented in their degrees, be it that their speeches be premeditated, or that through force of the truth they do escape them, you shall understand this. One wisheth he had changed his gown with his farmer, another affirmeth it to be a goodly matter to have no such vocation, another complaineth that his head is troubled with palace or courtlike matters from which he hopeth with all speed to withdraw himself. To be brief, you shall find them all w ery of their vocation, nothing invying the calling of others, notwithstanding that if you would seem to take them at their words the most part could be content to recant. All men are weary of those affairs whereunto his age is subject, & yet wisheth to be higher whereby he might exempt himself, notwithstanding that otherwise he would somuch as in him lay avoid all age & to his power flee from the same. What were we best therefore to do in this great con trariety & confusion of minds, should we the better to obtain perfect quietness eschew the company of men, and hide ourselves in the woods among wild beastis? to avoid these heinous passions, should we departed from the flocks of reasonable creatures? or to escape these worldly evils should we sequester ourselves out of the world? indeed if in so doing we could li●…e quietly, it were something.  
But alas, each one that would cannot so do, yea and such as do so, do not therein find the rest which they seek for. Some would gladly do it, but shame of the world restraineth them. Fools they are to be ashamed of him whom in heart they do condemn, and more fools to take counsel of the greatest enemy which they can or may have. To others it is alleged, that they must serve the common wealth, and yet they see not that those which give them such Counsel, do serve none but them selves, and that the most part seek not greatly the common wealth, unless they find some private commodity, whereupon to take hold. Unto some it is said that by their good example they may amend the rest, and yet do they not consider that a hundred healthful men, shall rather take the plague in an infected City, yea even the Physicians themselves, rather than any one shall obtain health, that the entry into such a City is properly to tempt God, that against an infected air there can be no better preservative than to flee from the same. To be brief that so like as the sweet waters falling into the sea do abridge the bitterness of the same, even so little may one or two Lots do touching the reformation of a whole Sodomitical court. And as for the wiser sort, who no less careful for the soul than the body, do seek for the same a sound and healthful air, far from the infection of evil waners, and who being led by the hand of some of God's Angels, do in good time after the example of Lot, withdraw themselves into sun little village of Segor far from all worldly corruption, into some champion country, not near to any pestiferous town, there at their leisure to intend to some science and earnest contemplations. To them being in no dangerous place do I well agree: but in that themselves do carry infection with them, they cannot well be exempt. They flee the court, the court still followeth them every way. They seèke to escape the the world, and the world pursueth them even to death: hardly throughout the whole world, shall they find any corner wherein the world will not find them, so earnestly doth it seek their destruction. Again if through the singular grace of God, they seem for a while exempt out of these dangers, then are they continually vexed with poverty, then is there some domestical contention, which disquieth them, or some kind of familiar spirit which tempteth them.  
To be short, the world by some means causeth them to feel him. But the worst is that when we be passed all these outward wars and travails, them do we feel in ourselves, so much the more vehemently an inward war and debate of the flesh against the spirit, passion against reason, Earth against Heaven, and the world fight in us for the world, which finds itself continually lodged in the bottom of our own hearts, on what side soever we seek to flee from it.  
I will say also thus much more, that there be some, who making profession of eschewing worldly vanities, do in the same seek the commendation of the world. Some do ●…eeme to flee from it, and yet according to the Proverb, do go backward to meet it. Yea there are some which do refuse honours, because they would be desired to take the same: and others that do hide them selves, only to 'cause men to seek to them. Thus doth the world many time's i●… disguised attire devil in those which seem to flee from the world.  
This then is an abuse, for if we follow the company of men, among them is his court. If we seek the wilderness, there hath he his caves & dens, for in the desert itself did he tempt our lord jesus Christ. If we retire into ourselves, there do we find him as filthy as any where else. We cannot in ourselves slay the world, without our own deaths. We are in the world & the world in us, to separate us therefore from the world, we must separate ourselves & this separation is called death. We are I wéen come forth of the pestiferous city, but we consider not that we have gathered the air into our wicked complexions, that we carry away the plague with us, that ourselves are parcel of the same, whereupon through rocks, desertis, and mountains, it will still follow and accompany us: having fled the infection of others, we have the infection in our selves. We have go from among men, but we have not put man from among us: this tempestuous sea tormented us, we were sick at our hearts, & were desirous to vomit, and therefore to discharge our stomachs, we have go from Ship to Ship, from a great one to a little one. We promise' ourselves quietness, but in vain, for still the same wind bloweth, the same waves rise, & the same humours do move. Unto all men is there no other haven or port of rest save only death. We lay sick in a Chamber on the street side, or opening into the market place, we removed into a backer chamber, where was no such noise: but notwithstanding the noise was less, yet was the Ague no whit diminished, neither thereby lost any part of his wunted heat. Let ●…s change bed, chamber, house, yea and country so often as we list, yet shall we still find the same unquietness because ourselves are there, and that we seek not so much to become other men, as to remove into other places. We seek solitariness, to th'end to annoy solitariness. we do say we flee and withdraw ourselves from among the wicked: but we take with us our covetousness, our ambition, our royelous living, & all other our wicked affection, which procure to us innumerable remorses of conscience, and a thousand times a day do put us in mind of the roots and onions of Egypt. They do still go over the ferry with us and therefore on each side of the water, are we at a perpetual combat. But if we could discharge this train, which eateth us and gnaweth our spirits, undoubtedly we should have rest, not in solitariness only, but even in the midst of the press of men. briefly the life of man upon Earth is a perpetual warfare.  
Being delivered from outward enterprises, we are to take heed of inward conspiracies. The Grecians are go aside, we have a Sinon in us which will yield the place to them. We must continually wake and have always an eye to the watch, holding our weapons in our hands, unless we be minded at all times to be surprised and yielded at the pleasure of our enemies. And I pray you which way may we in the end escape their danger? not through the woods, the rivers, or the mountains, not by pressing among company, neither by running into an hole. There is but one only way, and that is death, which finally dividing our spirit from our flesh, the clean and pure part of o●…r soul from the unclean, which in us is still bend against us for the behoof of the world, appeaseth through this sepe ration, that which being conjoined in one self person, cannot without the utter choking up of the spirit, remain with out a perpetual quarrel and debate.  
As for the contentation which might be in the solitary exercises of the wise, as the reading of holy scriptures & profane books of all sciences & discipline. I do well grant that this is a far other matter than these wild huntings which maketh wild moste part of men vexed with these or such like diseases of their mides, & yet must all néedꝭ pass under the arrest of the wisest of all, wise Solomon, who allegeth that all this comforted with the nature of man, is no other than vanity and travail of mind. Some do all their lives learn to speak of amendment, and yet do never think of amending their lives. Others do Logically dispute of reason & of art, and yet many times do loose their natural reason themselves. Othersdo learn by Arithmetic to divide even the lest fractions, & yet cannot part one shilling with their needy brother. Others by Geometry can measure the féeldꝭ, the towns, & the country: and yet unskilful in measuring them selves. The Pusition can agree the voice, soundꝭ and tunes together: and yet hath nothing in his heart which disagréeth not, or any passion in his mind that is in his right tune. The Astronomer can look up: and yet fall in the pit at hand, he can foretell the things to come: & yet lose that which is present, he can often have his eye in Heaven: when his heart is buried very low in earth. The Philosopher can dispute of the nature of all things: & yet knoweth not hi●… self. The Physician can heal others: & yet be blind in his own disease, and can feel the lest alteration of his pulses: but not consider the hot burning Agues of his soul. The Historiographer knoweth the wars of Thebes or Troy: and yet is ignorant of things done within himself. The Lawyer who maketh laws to all the world: cannot prescrib●… any law to himself. To be brief, the D●…uine can very well dispute of faith: but will hear no talk of Charity, he can speak of GOD: but make no account of helping of men. These sc●…ces do continually forment the mind●…, but not content the same. The more that man knoweth, the more he d●…reth to know. All this knowledge appeaseth not the disagreement that man feeleth in himself, they heal not the diseases of the mind, they make a man learned, but not good, and cunning, but not wise, and this I say more, that the more a man knoweth, the more he granteth himself to be ignorant of, the fuller that his mind is, the emptier doth he find the same because that how much so ever of any science a man can know in this world, it is nevertheless the jest part of that which he is ignorant of: and therefore his whole skill consists i●… knowing his ignorance, and all his perfection in marking his imperfections and he that most knoweth and marketh, is in truth accounted most skilful and perfect among men.  
To be short, we must with Solomon return to this point that the beginning and ending of wisdom is the fear of God, which wisdom is nevertheless in the world cried down as mere folly, and pursued as a capital enemy, and as he which fears God, need not to fear any evil, because all his evils are converted into goodness, even so he must not look for any goodness in this world having the devil his formal even mie, whom the scripture termeth the Prince of this world.  
Well, in what exercise so ever we pass away our time, see, age hath overtaken us before we were ware, who, whether we hide us among the press of men, or that we do flee in any solitary place, will nevertheless be sure to find us out. All men do make account therewithal to rest from all their labours, to take no farther thought save only to keep themselves quiet and in health, and yet behold contrary wise, this age is no other but a taste of all evils aforesaid, and for the most part the chiefest flourishing time of all vice, wherewith they have been occupied and detained all the course of their life: you have therein the unprofitableness and weakness of childhood, yea and that is worst, the same often joined with a superior authority. You are rewarded for the excess and riots of your youth, with the gout, palsy, stone, & such other like kind of diseases, which take away your members, one after another with extreme pain. You are recompensed for the watching, thoughts and inward travails ration, that which being conjoined in one 〈◊〉 person, cannot without the utter c●…king up of the spirit, remain with out a perpetual quarrel and debate.  
As for the consentation which might be in the 〈◊〉 ●…rcises of the wise, as the readi●… of holy scriptu●…s & prephane books 〈◊〉 all 〈◊〉 & discipline, I do well gr●…nt that this is a far other matter th●… these wild huntings which maketh wild moste part of men vex●… with these or such like diseases of their mides, & yet must all needꝭ pass under the arrest of the wisest of all, wise Solomon, who allegeth that all this comforted with the nature of man, is no other than vanity and travail of mind. Some do all their lives learn to speak of amendment, and yet do never think of amending their lives. Others do Logically dispute of reason & of art, and yet many times do loose their natural reason themselves. Others do learn by Arithmetic to deu●…e even the lest fractions, & yet cannot part one shilling with their needy brother. Others by Eeometrie can measure y● féeldꝭ, the towns, & the country: and yet unskilful in measuring them selves. The Pusition can agree the voice, 〈◊〉 and 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 yet hath nothing in his heart 〈◊〉 dissagreeth not, or any 〈◊〉 in his 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 is in his right tune. The 〈◊〉 can look up: and yet fall i●… the 〈◊〉 at 〈◊〉 he can 〈◊〉 the 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 lose that which is 〈◊〉, 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 have his eye in 〈◊〉: 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 heart is 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉. The Philosoph●… can 〈◊〉 of y● 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 all things: & yet 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉. The 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 others: & yet be b●…inde in ●…is 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, 〈◊〉 can feel the lest a●…teration of his 〈◊〉: 〈◊〉 not consider 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 A●…ues of his soul. The 〈◊〉 know ●…th the wars of Thebes or Troy: 〈◊〉 yet is ignorant of things done 〈◊〉 himself. The Lawyer who 〈◊〉 laws to all the world: cannot prescri●… any law to himself. To be brief, y● 〈◊〉 vine can very well dispute of 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 will hear no talk of Chari●…e, 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 speak of GOD: but make no 〈◊〉 count of helping of men. 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 ces do confinually forment 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, but not content the same. The 〈◊〉 that man knoweth, the more 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 to know. All this knowledge appeaseth not the disagreement that man feeleth in himself, they heal not the diseases of the mind, they make a man learned, but not good, and cunning, but not wise, and this I say more, that the more a man knoweth, the more he granteth himself to be ignorant of, the fuller that his mid is, the emptier doth he find the same because that how much so ever of any science a man can know in this world, it is nevertheless the jest part of that which he is ignorant of: and therefore his whole skill con●…eth in knowing his ignorance, and all his perfection in marking his imperfections, and he that most knoweth and marketh, is in truth accounted most skilful and perf●…ct among men.  
To be short, we must with Solomon return to this point that the beginning and ending of wisdom is the fear of God, which wisdom is nevertheless in the world ●…ryed down as mere folly, and pursued as a capital enemy, and as he which fear●…th God, need not to fear any evil, beca●… all his evils are converted into goodness, ●…uen so he must not look for any goodness in this world having the devil his formal even mie, whom the scripture termeth the Prince of this world.  
Well, in what exercise so ever we pass away our time, see, age hath overtaken us before we were ware, who, whether we hide us among the press of men, or that we do flee in any solitary place, will nevertheless be sure to find us out. All men do make account therewithal to rest from all their labours, to take no farther thought save only to keep themselves quiet and in health, and yet behold contrariwise, this age is no other but a taste of all evils aforesaid, and for the most part the chiefest flourishing time of all vice, wherewith they have been occupied and detained all the course of their life: you have therein the unprofitableness and weakness of childhood, yea and that is worst, the same often joined with a superior authority. You are rewarded for the excess and riots of your youth, with the g●…t, palsy, stone, & such other like kid of diseases, which take away your members, one after another with extreme pain. You are recompented for the watching, thoughts and inward travails of your man's age, with the loss of the sight, the hearing, and of all the other senses one after another, except only of the feeling of your pain.  
There is no part of man which death taketh not as apledge, thereby to assure himself of us as of an evil payer; which infinitely fears his term.  
There will be by and by nothing remaining in manner a live, and yet do our vices line in us, and do not only live, but also even in spite of nature do daily, flourish a fresh again, The covetous man having in manner one foot in the ground, is never the●…sse ●…il hoarding up of treasure as if one day he were assured to find the same again. The Ambitious man by his last will ordaineth vnpro●…able pomps for his funerals, & so procureth his vice so live & triumph even after his death. The Riotous man being unable to da●…ce with his feet, danceth with his shoulders. All vices have jest him, but he cannot leave them. The child wisheth his youthful age, & the man is grieved at the same. In his youthful age he lived in hope of the age to come, & the man ●…éeleth the present evil: sorroweth at his false passed pleasures, and now ●…deth nothing in time to come to wish for. Moore foolish is he then the Child, for that he bewaileth the time which cannot come again, & more miserable than the youthful man, in that that after his miserable life which cannot be accomplished without as miserable a death: he seethe nothing but mere despair on all sides.  
And as for him who even in his youth too upon him the battle against the flesh and the world, who so painfully hath indenored to dye to the world, & hath forsaken the same before his time: who also besides all these ordinary evils ●…ideth himself wearied with this great and incurable disease of age, and yet oftentimes not with standing his weakness finds his flesh stronger than his spirit: what goodness, I pray you, can he herein conceive, except only in that he seeth his death at hand, that he perceiveth his combats ended, & that he knoweth himself ready through death to departed out of this trouble some prison wherein he hath been racked & tormented all the days of his life? I will not beer speak of in●…nite evils which do v●…e men in all ages, as loss of Fr●…nds and Parents, banishments, exile, discurtesyes, with other such like, common and ordinary in the world.  
One man lamenteth the loss of his Children, an other is sorry that ever ●…e had any. One mourneth for his wife, who is dead: an other wisheth his would not live so long. One complaineth that he is to deep in the Court, an other that he is not deep enough. The world ●…th so many evils heaped up in it, that to writ of them all would require an other world as big as it is. Yea in case the happiest man that we can find, would but way his blesses with his mishaps, he would accounted himself most accursed: and some there be who think him happy, and yet if they had but three days set in his place, they would resign the same to the first comer: yea and which is more, if the same man should but consider, first of all the goods and commodities that ever he received: and then. of the evil which he hath endured for the obtaining of the same, and having them, of the pain that he hath taken to save and keep them (I speak only of such commodities as may be kept, & not of those the whither away in a moment) he would surely with him self give this verdict of himself, that even the keeping of the chiefest felicities in this world, is but labour, travail and infelicity. Let us therefore conclude that infancy is but a foolish simplicity: youth a vain heat: man's age a painful carefulness: and age a troublesome languishing, that our eyes are nothing but tears: our pleasures, vexations of mind: our goods, racks and torments: our honours, weighty vanities: and our rest, a disquietness. Also that to pass from age to age, is but to depart from one evil to an other: from a small one to a great, and that it is always one billow or wave driving of an other, until we come to the Haven of death. Let us I say conclude, that this life is no other than a desire of the life to come, a sorrowing for the life past, a disdain of that which we have tasted, and a desire of that that hitherto we have not felt, a vain remembrance of the estate passed and an uncertain waiting for the which is to come. To be brief, that in all the life is nothing certain neither assured, but only the certainty and assurance of death.  
Well, behold now death cometh to us: see, that which so long we have feared doth now draw near unto us. We must now therefore consider whether she be such a thing as men make us to believe, and whether we aught so to flee from her as ordinarily we do.  
We are afeard as little Children of a Mastif, or of the Idols of Hecate. We do abhor her, but that is only because we take her to be other then indeed she is, namely sorrowful, withered & ougley, even such a one as it pleaseth the Painters to present unto us upon the walls. We ●…ee before her, and that is because we being occupied with such vain imaginations, have no ●…isure to look upon her. Let us therefore stay and become constant. Let us even look upon her face, and we shall find her far other then she is pain●…ed out unto us, and in a far other 〈◊〉 than our mi●…erable life. Death endeth this life. This life is but misery and a perpetual tempest. Death therefore is the issue of our miseries, and the encloser of the Haven wherein we shall be safe from all winds. Shall we therefore fear jest taking us out of misery she should hale us into the haven?  
You will say that in death is pain, be it so, so is there also in the healing of wounds, for such is the nature of humane things, that one evil cannot be healed but by an other. To cure a bruising there must be incision.  
You will tell me that in this passage there is some difficulty, so is there no port or Haven but that the entry is narrow and troublesome. Not goods are bought in this world with other money than pain and travatle. The entry is indeed troublesome, if our selves do so make it, if we draw ●…owarde it with a tormented mind, with a troubled understáding, or with a swer●…ing and unconstant thought. But let us bring tranquillity of mind, constancy, and firm determination, and we shall find no danger, neither any kind of difficulty. Again what greet doth death 'cause us to suffer? What can she do with whatsoever we do endure? We accuse her of all the evil that we feel in the ending of our lives, and do not consider how many greater & more dange●…ous wounds a●…d diseases we have endured without death. How many more ●…ehement greets we have suffered in this life, during the extremities whereof we have called her to our aid and help. Of all sorrows which our life do procure unto us toward our last ends, we do exclaim and find fault with death, not considering that life being begun and continued in all kind of sorrow, cannot also without sorrow be en dead. We do not (I say) way with ourselves, the it is the rest of our life, and not death that formenteth us, the end of our Navigation that paineth us, and not the ●…auen where into we should enter, which also is no other than a Bulwark against all winds and tempests.  
We do complain of death when indeed we should be wa●…l our lives, as one who having been long sick, and now returning toward health, would accuse his health for his last griefs, and not the relics of his sickness. I pray you what other is death, then to be no longer lining in this world? Felt we any grief before we came into it? Not to be in the world at all, is it purely and simply any pain? Do we at any time more resemble death, then in our s●…eepe, and be we at any time in more quietness than also at the time of the same? ●…f then she be no grief, wherefore should we accuse her of all those griefs which our life at the departure thereof doth minister unto us, unless we will also blame the time wherein we were not in those sorrows which at our birth we began to endure? If the coming into the world were in tears, why should we marvel that the issue out of the same be so also? The beginning of our being, being the beginning of our sorrows, is it to be marveled that the end is alike? If our not being in the former worlds hath been exempt of sorrow, and now contrariwise our being in this world be full of sorrow, whom shall we in reason accuse of these our last sorrows whether our not being before time, or the rest of our present being?  
We think not that we die before we yield the last gasp, and yet if we look well we do daily in every hour and moment dye. We fear death as a thing unaccustomed, and yet have nothing more common in us, for our life is but a continual death: even so long as we live, so long do we die: as we do grow, so doth our life diminish. We let not one step so soon into life, but as soon we set an other into death. Who so hath lived a third part of his years, hath also passed a third part of his death, and who the tone half, is already half dead. So much of our life as is passed, is dead: that which is present doth live and dye together, and that which is to come shall likewise dye. That that is passed is no more: that that is to come is not yet, and that that is present both is and is not. To be brief, all this life is but death. It is as a candle lighted in our bodies. In some the wind wastes it, in other some it putteth it out before it be half spent, and in other some it suffereth it to continued to the end: but be it as it will, according as it lighteth, so doth it burn, his light is a burning, his flame a vanishing smoke, and his last fire is the uttermost end of his cotton and the last drop of his moisture. Even so is the life of man.  
The life and death of man is all but one thing. If we call the last breath death, the like name must we give to all the rest afore pasied, for they all do proceed out of one place and are all of a like fashion. One only difference is there between this li●…e, and that which we call death, which is that during the one, we have always to die, & after th'other there remains nothing b●…t everlasting life.  
To be brief, what soever he be which thinketh death to be simply the end of man, yet ought he not to fear the same: for who so is desirous of long life, doth also ask a continuing death, & who so fears present death, fears (to speak uprightly) to have no longer respite to die. But unto us that are brought up in an other manner of school, death also seemeth an other thing. We need not as the heathen, have any comfort against death, but death should unto us b●… a co●…ort against all kind of affliction. We must not on●… lie with them strive, not to fear it, but rather enure ourselves to hope after it. It is not to us an issue unto sorrow and evil, but a path to all goodness. To us it is no end of life, but an end of death and a beginning of everlasting life. Better says Solomon is the day of death, them the ●…oure of birth, & why? because it is not to us a last day, but the birth of an everla sting day. We shall during this brightness no longer bewail the time past, but shall still live in hope for the time to come. For all shall to us be time present, and this time present shall never abandon us: We shall no longer consume in vain and sorrowful pleasures, but shall be replenished with a true and firm joy. We shall no longer labour to beap up the exhalations of the earth, for shallbe ours. This mass of Earth which accustomably drawn us toward the earth, shallbe in the earth. We shall no longer strive to mount from step to step, and from honour to honour: for we shallbe exalted into Heaven above all worldly honours & from above shall we laugh them to scorn that do wonder at us, which do strive for the uálue of a point, and like Children fight together for less value than an Apple. Moore combats shall we not sustain within ourselves, for our flesh shallbe dead, but our spirit in full life: our passion buried, and our reason set at liberty. Our soul being delivered out of this filthy and stinking prison, wherein it hath so long lurked and crouched, shall take air, and acknowledging his ancient dwelling place, shall call again to mind his former brightness and dignity. This flesh my friend which thou feelest, and this body, which thou touchest is not the soul: for the soul is born in heaven, and Heaven is his Country and air. In that he is enclosed in the body, it is as it were by exile and banishment. The soul properly is the life and spirit. The soul is rather a heavenly and celestial quality, exempt from all gross and material substance, and this body such as it is, is no other than a bark or shell over the spirit, and therefore must of necessity flee a sunder when we come to our departure, if we will perfectly live or clearly behold●… the day. We have as we think some life, and some feeling: but we are altogether impotent, we can not stretch out our wings, neither can we take our flight into Heaven, until this earthly mass of flesh be taken from of us. We do see, but through deceitful spectacles. We have eyes, but covered with a film. We think to look, but it is in a dream, whereby we see nothing but lies. What soeu●…r we have or know, is but abuse and vanity: death only can restore to us both life and sight, and yet are we so beastly as to think that she taketh them from us.  
We are (say we) Christians: we do believe after this life, life everlasting. We acknowledge that death is but a separation of the body and the soul, that the soul shall return to his blessed rest, for to rejoice in God, who only is all goodness, and that in the last day she shall again put on her body, which then shall be no more subject to corruption. We do fill all our Books with this goodly discourse, and yet coming to the point, the only name of death, as the most horrible thing in the world, maketh us to quake and tremble. If we believe that, that we have said, what do we then fear? to be happy? to be at quiet? to live in greater contentation in one moment then ever we could do in all our mortal life how long so ever it hath been? Either we must confess, will we, nil we, that we believe but to halves, that we have nothing in us but words, and that all our discourses (even as of these valiant table Knights) are but vaunts and vanities: and therefore see what we say.  
We know, that departing out of this life we shall pass to a better, and thereof we doubt not at all: but we fear the great passage that is between them both, which we must overcome. O ●…aint hárted men. They will slay themselves for the getting of their miserable life. They will suffer a thousand griefs and wounds at the request of other men: they will pass a thousand dangers of death without stumbling, for the getting of transitory goods whithe peradventure will 'cause them to perish with them, and yet having but one step or passage to go over for the obtaining of their ease, not for a day but for ever, not any kind of ease, but such an ease as man is not able to comprehend: do yet quake thereat, their heart faileth them at their needs, they be afraid and yet is the chief cause of this their fear, no other than the fear itself, Let them not allege that they do learn to endure the sorrow, for that were but base and a simple cover for their slender fa●…th. They had rather languish perpetually in the pain of y●●…oute, the Sciatica, the stone or such like, then at once to die of a sweet death, which comprehendeth the lest sorrow in the world: they had rather to die ●…ember after member, & so as you would say, to over lives their senses, movings & actions, then altogether to die to the end to live eternally. Let them not allege neither that they would in this world learn to live, for every man of himself is sufficiently taught that already: no man is ignorant in that occupation. But we must learn in this world to dye, and for the obtaining of one good death, we must in ourselves dye daily, preparing us as if the end of every day, were also the end of our life: whereas contrariwise nothing doth more offend our ears then to hear of death.  
O senseless men, we do habandon our lives to th'ordinary hazards of war for twenty shillings matter. In hope of some small botie, we be the first at the assault, running into places from whence there is no hope of return, and that many times with the danger both of our bodies and souls. And yet for the exempting of us out of all dangers, for the conquest of incomparable treasures, and for the entry into everlasting life, we do refrain from setting forward of one step wherein is no difficulty or danger at all, but only fear to withhold us. Yea we do so stick there, that were it not that whether we will or not, we must pass the said step, & God even against our wills will do us good, hardly throughout all the whole world, we should find any one, how miserable or wretched soever he were that willingly would pass that way. Others will say, had I lived five or six score years, I could even be content, I care for no longer life: but me thinks to die so young, it were against reason. I would know the world before I go out of it. Ah poor ignorant man that thou art, in this world there is none either young or old. Old age compared with that is past, & with that that is to come, is but one only period: Having lived to the age that now thou desiredst, all thy time passed will be as nothing, thou wil●… still gape after time to come. Of the time passed thou shalt have only a grief, thou shalt wait for time to come, & of time present thou shalt reap no contentation. Thou will't be as ready to demand respite as before. Thou fliest from thy creditor month after month, term after term, as ready to pay him at the last as at the first, and yet seeing you must needs pay him, as good at the first as at the last. Thou hast tasted all the pleasures which the world accounteth of, none of them are dainty to thee, drink thou never so often, thou art never the fuller, for this body which thou carriest is as the bottomless pail of the Danaides which can never be filled. It will be sooner worn out, than thou weary of using (or to speak more truly of abusing) the same.  
Thou requirest long life, but only to loose it, to waste it out in tri●…ing pleasures, and to spend it in vain matters. Thou art Covetous in desiring, and prodigal in spending. Tell not me that thou complainest of the Court, or of the Palace, either that thou wouldst yet do some more service to thy common wealth or country, or even to God himself. For he that hath set thee on work, knoweth the time and hour that thou shalt continued: he can guide thy work manship: if he should leave thee there any longer, it may be thou wouldst mar all.  
If he be content liberally to pay thee for thy work, and to give thee as much wages for thy half days work as if thou hadst wrought all day long: for labouring till noon, as if thou hadst born the heat of the whole day, hast not thou so much the more cause to thank and praise him?  
But entering into thy own conscience Thou bewailest not the cause of the Widow or of the Orphan, whom y● hast left at the point of judgement, neither the end of the son, the father, or the friend which thou protestest to restore: The embassage of the come mon wealth which thou wert ready to take upon thee, either else the service that thou desirest to do to GOD, who knoweth much better what service to reap of thee, than thou dost thyself.  
Thou bewailest thy houses and thy Gardens. Thou moanest thy purposes and unperfect devices. Thou lamentest thy life, in thy eye unperfect, which neither days, years, ne worlds were able ●…o finish, and yet thyself in the lest moment mayst end, if thou will't but once earnestly think that it skilleth not how they be ended, so they be well ended. And well to finish this life is no other thing then willingly to end it, following of our own accor●…es, the will and Conduct of God, and not to permit ourselves to be haled after the necessity of our destiny. For to end it willingly, is to hope for and not to fear death. To hope for it, is assuredly to wait for a better life after this, and to wait for a better life is to fear God, whom whoso ●…areth, need not certainly to fear any thing in this world, but to hope fo●… all things in the other. Death can not be other then gentle and acceptable to all that in those points are thoroughly resolved, because they k●…owe assuredly, that thereby they shall enter in to an habitation of all goodness. The sorrow that might be therein, shall be mixed with gentleness. The patiented abiding shall be drunk with hope. The sting of death itself shall be killed, for all this sting is nothing but fear: & thus much 〈◊〉 will say more, that not only all the evil which we take to be in death, shall be as nothing unto them, but also they shall laugh at the mishaps that others do fear in this life, and shall even mock all their doubts. For I pray you what can he ●…eare which hopeth to die? Do his enemies think to drive him out of his country? he knoweth that he hath a country in another place, from the which they cannot drive him, and that all these Countries are but so many ny Inns, from whence they must depar●… part whensoever it pleaseth their hosf, shall he be cast into prison●… a straighter prison or more filthy, dark, sul of racks and torments, can they not commit him into, them his own body. Will they put him to death and so take him out of this world? That is it that so long he hath hoped for, and whereunto with all his heart he hath aspired, be it with fire, sword, famine, sickness or otherwise: with in three years, three dates, or three hours, it is all one to him when or by which gate he departeth out of this miserable life, for his work is all done, all his provision is ready, and by the same gate that he goeth out at, shall he enter into a far more blessed and immortal life.  
They cannot threaten him of worse than death, and that is it that he assureth himself of. The worst they can do to him is to take away his life, and that is the best thing that he can hope for. The threatenings of tyrants are pro mises to him, and his chiefest enemies weapons are drawn to his behoof, for he knoweth that who so threatneth him with death, promises him life, and the most mortal wounds that they can give him, 〈◊〉 make him immortal. who that feareth God fears not death, and he that fears not death careth not for the greatest injuries of this life.  
Why, will you say, them by this account death is to be wished for, & therefore for the avoiding of so many mischiefs, and the obtaining of such infinite commodities we should me thinketh abridge our lives. Surely I doubt not that notwithstanding allt his profit, any one will hasten any step forward, yea although that spirit should aspire the runto, yet the body that it hath to draw, will su●…ciētly restrain it. Now be it I mean not so to conclude, We aught indeed to endeavour to slay our flesh in ourselves, but to exempt ourselves out of the world, that is not permitted unto us. A Christian aught willingly to depart this life: b●…t he may not cowardly run away. God hath ordained a Christian to fight, and therefore he cannot without blame and reproach leave his rank. But if it please this great captain to call him home, then must he willingly retire and freely obey. For the Christian is not for himself but for God, of whom he holdeth his life to enjoy the same so long as it shall please him, and to who me he must yield the fruits of the same. His life is at the disposition of the owner, who at his pleasure may take it from him, but he may not when he will give over the same.  
Diest thou young? thank God who as a good sailor with a fresh wind hath soon conducted thee to the Haven. Diest y● old? praise him likewise, for that having a small wind thou haste peradventure been less molested with waves, neither think to hasten or slack thy pace at thy own will, for that 〈◊〉 is not at thy b●…ck, and so in striving against the stream, thou shalt peradventure incur shipwreck. God calleth one from work in the morning, another at noon, and another at night. God exerciseth one until he sweat, another parcheth he in the Sun, & another doth he even bake and whither up altogether, and yet leaveth he none of all his abroad, but giveth them all rest, paying them their wages in time convenient. Who that leaveth his work before he be called loseth the same, & he that is in portunate before the time foregoeth his wages. We must all depend upon his pleasure, who in the midst of all our labours granteth us rest.  
To be brief, the travails of this life must not 'cause us to hate the same, for that were but cowardice and want of heart. Neither must the pleasures of the same procure us to love it, for that were but folly & vanity: but we must use it to the service of God, who after the same shall give us assured rest, and shall lead us into everlasting pleasures which perish not. We must not also flee from death, for it were very childish to fear it and in fléeing away to meet with the same. Again we must not seek it, for that were but rashness, neither doth every man die that wil There is as much desperatenes in the one as cowardliness in the other, and in neither of both is there any kind of magnanimity. Let it therefore suffice us to stay for it, and that steadfastly and continually to the end it never find us un provided. For as there is nothing more certain than death, so also is there nothing more uncertain than the sorrow of the same, which is known to none but to one God, the only Author of life, in whom we should all labour to live and dye.  
¶ Die to live and live to dye.   

Certain collections gathered out of the works of the learned Philosopher Seneca, concerning the same argument.  

¶ Out of his Epistles.  

¶ Epistle. 24.  
CAll to mind I pray thee, that which thou hast often herded and said, and prove in effect whether thou hast hard or said it in earnest or no. For to us it were to great a shame to be cast in the teeth (as many times we are) that we do deal only with the words, but not with the works of Philosophy. I remember that ere now I have herded thee entreat upon this common place. That we fall not suddenly into death, but by little and little do walk toward the same. We die indeed daily, for every day some part of our life wastes away. What part of our life soever is past or to come, dea●… taketh hold of the same, and still as we do grow, our life fadeth away. We loose first our infancy, than our childhod, and then our youth. All our time passed even until yesterday is perished: and this very day which now is in hand, do we divide with death: and yet must we provide ourselves both for the one and the other. We must not to much love our lives, neither unreasonably hate the same. We must finish them when reason warneth us, and yet not rashly depart with the same, but even let them freely run out their course.  
The wise and valiant man must not flee from this life, but soberly depart with all, and above all things eschew this vicious passion which hath over come many: namely over great desire of death.   

¶ Epistle. 26.  
Verily I do speak to myself and do maintain and still examine myself, as if the proof were at hand, and the day that shall pronounce sentence over all my years, all ready comen. What soever hitherto we have done or said is nothing, it is but vain and light ●…ages of our courage, wrapped up in much painting and deceit. Only death shall persuade me that I have profited in Philosophy: I do therefore without fear make myself ready a 'gainst the day wherein undoubtedly I may judge whether I have afore tie feigned, or whether such injurious woordis & taunts as I have spoken against Fortune, have proceeded of stout courage or not. Next to the reputation that men have of us she is still doubtful & hangeth down on every side: therefore setting back our study, let us examine our lives, for death shall pronounce sentence upon us, I mean that the disputations, the learned sayings, the sentences collected out of the precepts of the wise, & the eloquent speech do not set forth that true force of the mind: for the most cowards are greatest braggers, when thou fightest against death it will appear how much thou hast profited. I accounted well of the human estate, & ●…ear not this judgement which says. Thou art young, what matter is that? years are not here accounted of. No man knoweth where death waiteth for thee, watch thou therefore for it in all places. Con cider says a certain philosopher, which is most commodious for us, either that death should come and take hold of us, or that we should go and embrace it. Herein cousisteth knowledge.  
It is an excellent matter to learn to dye, but peradventure will thou say superfluous, because we can but once use the same. Nay this is the cause why we should rather the more diligently learn and study for the same: for we must continual study for it, because until the very instant we cannot try whether we be perfect or no. He that willeth thee to think upon death, willeth thee to remember liberty, & he that hath learned to die hath forgotten to serve. For death is above all power, or at the lest out of the jurisdiction of all things. What careth he for Prisons, keepers or bolts. He hath a door always open. One on lie chain can bind us which is the love of this life, the which also indeed we should not quite cast away, but by little and little lessen the same to the end, in case death should come, nothing might let or stop us from him.   

¶ Epistle. 27.  
above all things we must endeavour to s●…aye our vices before ourselves, yea we must leave all these vain pleasures which notwithstanding they ●…oo not greatly annoyed us, yet do soon whither and vade away. Virtue only is an assured, firm, and perpetual pleasure, which surmounteth what soever standeth before it, even as doth the brightness of the Sun all clouds.   

Epistle, 30.  
TO depart out of this world with a good will, when soever this invitable hour shall come upon us (friend Lucilius) is a great matter, & a thing which long time we aught to study for. For he that hath not a desire to die, desireth not also to live, and our life hath been granted us, with this condition and clause that we should dye. We must hasten toward death without fear, b●…cause we are not better assured of any thing then of that, and ordinarily we ●…ope for things certain, but do fear such as be doubtful. Death unto all men alike is equal and inevitable: who therefore can complain of his estate, seeing all men are partakers in the same? for the first part of equity, is ●…qualitie. And if thou seekest not to fear death, them think continually thereupon.   

Epistle. 32.  
O what a goodly matter it is 〈◊〉 provide for the end and accomplishment of our 〈◊〉, before death cometh upon us? O when shalt thou see the time wherein thou shalt know that thou hast not to do with time, and so be quiet and at rest, not careful for to morrow, but of thyself fully satisfied?   

¶ Epistle. 36.  
IF a Child born in Parthia is by and by taught how to bend his bow. In Germany to cast a Dart, or in the time of our forefathers to manage an Horse and come upon his enemy. All these things do the discipline of native soil in●…ne and command each one: But what of that? We must thereby consider y● against all kinds of dartis & enemies, there is nothing more convenient than not to make any account of death, wherein each man doubteth to find some terrible matter which offendeth the minds and quaileth the courages of those who naturally are endued with a self love. For otherwise we need not to prepare and seek to free ourselves from the thing whereunto we should willigly of our own minds hasten, as unto that that is our own conservation. Certainly no man learneth how in time of need to lye upon a bed of Roses, but rather how he may strengthen himself against torments, jest if the case so requireth he should ut ter any thing contrary to his faith or promise. How in time of necessity and being wounded, he might overpass a whole night without sleep, and how learning upon a pikes end he may abstain from drowsiness, jest the same prick him. Death comprehendeth no kind of discommodity, for otherwise there must be some discommodious matter in it. If thou desirest long life, consider that no thing which hideth itself out of thy ●…ght & returns again into the natural habitation, ●…rom whence it is proceeded or ready to proceed, doth consume. The time of it is past, but it doth not perish, neither doth death which we do so much fear and shun, take away life, but only giveth truce & 〈◊〉. The day will come that will restore us to the light which many 〈◊〉 be afeard of, were it not that they will bring them à gain in such estate as they shall not remember things past. Thou shalt see that in this world nothing perisheth utterly, but descendeth and cometh up again by course. Is Summer go? an other year bringeth it again. Is winter passed? within few months it will return. Hath night wrapped up the Sun? the Morning will discover it again. The Stars do keep their first course. Some part of the Element continually rises, & some goeth down: to be brief, I will finally say this, neither Children ne mad men do fear death: what shame then were it to us that reason should not assure us as much as their folly & simplicity doth them.   

Epistle. 50.  
THe swistnes of time is wonderful and so doth it show itself especially to those that do look behind them for she deceiveth them that be to earnest upon present things, so light is the passage of a heavy long Flight. Our life time is but one jot, yea less than a jot, and yet as little as it is, nature hath so parted & divided it, as if it were some long time. Of this io●…e she hath divided one part into infancy, an other into youth, another into man's estate, and a nother into old age itself.  
Thus may you see how many degrees she hath comprehended in so small compass. Now that I have discoursed this unto thee: this is a part of our life, of the which we shall in time to come learn the shortness. I was not wont to think time swift, now doth the course thereof seem incredible, which maketh me marvel at those who of this small space do consume the most part in superfluous things. We must no longer stay at these trifles, for we have greater matters in hand. Death followeth me and life fleeth away. Teach me there fore some remedy and instruct me so as that I may not flee from death, nor life abandon me. Show me then the the commodity of this life, consists not in the time thereof but in the use: also that it may be (yea and often doth come to pass) that the longest liver hath lived but a while, and he that hath lived but a while hath lived very long. Nature hath brought us into the world capable of learning, and hath given us unperfect reason, which may be made perfect.   

¶ Epistle, 57  
OUr bodies do swim down the stream like rivers, what ever y● 〈◊〉 fleeth away with the time. No part of that we see hath any continuance, myself even in telling thee that all things chageth & altereth. This says Heraclites, we all go down together but go not all into one river, for the name of the river may well continued, but the water is run away. The like similitude is in man though more easy to to be perceived in a river, for with as swift a stream or course be we carried away, wherefore I do marvel at our folly who are so far in love with the thing that fleeth so fast, I speak of the body whose death we do so much fear, although each moment ofour life is the death of other. Fearest thou jest y● should come to pass which daily is accomplished? or shouldst thou stand in doubt of once dying seeing daily by little and little death 〈◊〉 thy days. etc.   

¶ Epistle. 62.  
I Do labour that each day may be to me as all my life, and yet do I not take hold of it as of my last; but surely as if if might be my last. This letter do I writ unto thee as if during that writing thereof death would call me away. I am ready to depart & yet do delight in this life, because that making great account of that to come, I have before my age endeavoured to live well, and in my age to die well, and to die well is no other than to die willingly. Take such order that what so ever thou must 〈◊〉 do, y● do it not by constraint, for constraint and necessity belongeth to such as do resist, and not to them that do things of their own accord: for he is not necessarily constrained that doth things willigly, wherefore I say he that willingly obeyeth laws and commandments, hath already escaped the sharpest part of bondage, which is to do the thing be would not. It is no misery to do the thing commanded, but to do it whether a man will or no. Let us therefore so frame our courage, that we be willing to what soever the case requireth, and above all without heaviness to think on our end: for we must first prepare for death and then 〈◊〉 life. Life is sufficiently furnished of itself, and yet are we ever grée●… of provision for the same. Still we thinkt 〈◊〉 we want somewhat. It is neither years nor days that causeth us to have lived long in●…ugh, but our hearts and mind. I, friend Lucilius have lived long enough, & satisfied with this life do wait for death.   

¶ Epistle. 71.  
THe day will come that we must arrive at this sweet Haven & should never shun the same. If any man landeth there in his youth, yet aught he not to complain otherwise, then as one who hath soon ended his Navigation, for as y● knowest, the winds do toss and stay some upon the Seas and sometime with the slowness of a calm wearieth them, others it bringeth home quickly filling their sails full and rudely. Think then that it is so with us. Life bringeth some in haste to the places whereto they might aswell have come by leisure. Others it stayeth long time, scorching them by the way, & yet must we not still draw back. For to live is not absolutely good, but to live well: wherefore the wise man liveth so long as he should, but not as he could. None of us considreth that one day we must depart from this house. We do as the old tenants, who through custom●… and continuance do still keep their possession, though not without infinite wrongis and injuries. But will't thou, whether thy body will or not, be free? Inhabit it as ●…f thou were ready to change lodging, propound to it that shortly thou must pass out of this ●…abernacle, so shalt thou be the more courageous against thy necessary dep●…ture. But ●…ow can he think upon his ●…nd who is continually covetous & desi●…us of worldly wealth? Ordinary & usual meditation is most necessary in all things.   

Epistle. 78.  
NO man is ●…o ignorant but he knoweth that one day he must dye, and yet draming near the point, he turneth back, quaketh, a●…d lamenteth. I pray you if any should weep because he hath not lived a thousand years, would you not think him the foolishest man alive? even as foolish is he that lamenteth that he shall not live a thousand years hence. These are like cases. Thou shalt not be, nor thou hast not been. These two times do belong to others. Well, thou art brought to the extremity, admit thou dost lengthen it, how long thinkest thou to lengthen it? why weepest thou? why wishest thou: thou losest thy labour. Think not through thy importunacy to altar God's determination. H●… is firm & steadfast & guided by wunderful and●… everlasting necessity. Thou shalt follow all other things. What is it that is news to thee? Thou art born hereunto. The like hath happened to thy father, to thy mother, thy predcessors, and unto all that have go before thee, and the like shall chance to all that are to come after thee. It is an invincible chain and unchangeable order, which bindeth and draweth all things. There is no way but hath his issue. O wretch that thou art to make thyself slave to men, to goods, and to thy life, For where there is no virtue or courage to dye, life is but bondage. What hast thou I pray thee why thou shouldst stay? Thou ha●… wasted all the delights that might ●…acken and withhold thee. There is none which is news to thee, not there is none but that thou shouldst loath, so greatly hast thou been cloyed with them, and yet those be they from whom thou art so loath to depart. For what diddes●… ●…hou ever worthy life? confess the truth, It is neither because of the desire of Palace or of the Court: neither for grief to forsake the nature of things, that thou art so slow to dye. Thou art loath to go from the market wherein thou hast left nothing. Life is as a mask: we care not how long it lasteth, so it be well handled. End it where thou will't, it is all one: end where thou will't so that thou concludest with a good sentence.   

¶ Epistle. 94.  
THus do we daily reprove de●…eny. Why doth not death take away such a one? wherefore doth it cut of this man in the mid way? why doth such a one live so sorrowful an age both for himself & others? I pray thee whether is more meet that thou obey nature, or nature obey thee. What carest thou when thou must departed seeing there is no remedy? Thou shouldst not take thought to live long, but how thou livest long." To live long dependeth upon God's will, to live enough (through his permission) is in thy hand, Life is long and life is full. It is full and accomplished when thy will is contented, when thy mind hath yielded up all his goods & is restored to the power of itself. Contrariwise, an other who died in his flourishing youth, hath nevertheless fulfilled the office of a good Citizen, a good friend, and a good child. He hath omitted no part of his duty. Notwith standing his age was unperfect, yet was his life perfect, I pray thee therefore friend Lucilius, let our li●…e be to us as most precious thing. Let us measure it, not after the time but after the behaui●…urs: not according to the continuance, but to the eff●…cts.  
Let us commend and account him happy, who hath well bestowed the short time of his life. Age is an external thing & out of our power. My being here dependeth of an other: but my being a honest man, of myself. Require of me that I pass not my age unknown as in darkness, and that I may lead a true life which time may not out run. Askest thou which is the longest life, that is to live until wisdom, and who that hath attained thereto, although he hath not reached the farthest end, yet hath he got the principal. Death goeth every where. He that hath killed followeth him that is slain: There is nothing for the which we take such care. What is it to thee how long thou escapest that which in the end thou canst not escape: or that y● shrinkest from that that finally thou canst not avoid?   

¶ Epistle. 100  
COnsider me the brevity of time, mark the shortness of this carrier wherein we run so hastily. See the flowing on of all mankind, tending into one place. They which see me far of, are often nearer than the rest, he whom thou thinkest perished, is but go before, so that there is nothing more unreasonable then (seeing thyself must go the same way) to bewail him that is go afore thee. He that complaineth of the death of any man complaineth because he was a man. All the world is at one stay, ●…e that is yet unborn must nevertheless die. We are divided by spaces, & yet have all alike issue. Some go before, some follow, all go one way. All things are tossed, and all things 〈◊〉 pass to their contrary through the will of nature. In all this turmoil of humane affairs there is nothing so certain as death, and yet every man complaineth of the thing wherein was yet never any man deceived. Well died be a Child, I will not yet say that it was so much the better for him that he was delivered out of this life. But let us come to the ancient man and ask him what this Child hath gained? Let him cast in his mind this profound distance of time comprehending it all together, then let him therewithal compare the ordinary age of man, so shall be see what a trifle we do desire & how short a way we can reach. Let us therefore in this age first consider what part thereof the weeping, the thoughts, the wishings for death before it cometh, the sickness, the fear, and to be brief, these young and vnpro●…table years do take a way, besides that we sleep away half the same, whereunto let us add the labours, sorrows and dangers thereof: and so shall you see that even in a long life, the part that we do live is the lest of all. Life is neither good nor evil, but the place of both. Who so dieth in youth is in that he was as like to appair as to amend, like to him which at dice loseth the one of them, whe●… with he was as like to loose as to win. Finally in case you compare the brevity of age with the infiniteness of time, then are we all alike young and old: for even the longest age of man is but one jot.   

¶ Epistle. 102.  
Each day and hour do teach us that we are nothing and by some fresh argument calleth those back to the remembrance of their frailty which would forget the same, compelling them to have an eye to death when they would but once think upon eternity.  
O says one, we will now grafted pear trees, we will at such a time plant whole ranks of vines. Alas what folly is it to seek to dispose of age and life, we have not so much power as over the day of to morrow. What folly doth then possess the hope of those which do begin long and tedious works?  
I will build, I will buy, I will take interest, I will exact, I will obtain honours, and all with the time. But when I am old, and that my age is weary and cloyed with all this, them will I take mine ease. Well believe me, all things, even the happiest are doubtful. No man can promise' himself aught in time to come: for even that that man is in possession of, doth many times scape through his fingers, and at the very instant that we lay sure hold on them, some inconvenience cometh between us & home. Time passeth on according to an assured & unchaunge able law which is hidden from us.  
Why what have I to do, if it be mant fist and known to nature, though to me it be secret and unknown? We un dertake long voyages, from the which we shall not of a great while return home until we have strayed & coasted ma ny unknown countries and shores.  
We take upon us war, and the siack rewards of our warlike 〈◊〉. To be brief we acc●…pt commissions, 〈◊〉 and 〈◊〉 from one office to an other. During all this time death costeth us: but we never think on it until some examples of the death of other men do set it before our faces from time to time, which also we do no longer think upon, then while the wonder thereof is fresh in mind, and yet what ●…eater folly can there be then to won der, that the thing doth sometime happen which is in danger daily to come to pass? Our bounds are limited in place where the inexorable destiny hath planted them, and yet can no man tell how near they are. Let us therefore frame our minds as if we were at the end of them, let us not defer the time. For he who daily se ●…th the last hand to his life hath noth●… to do with time. Wherefore friend Lucilius hasten thee to live and think that how many days so many be thy lives. The time nearest hand doth always escape from him that liveth in hope, & he is so covetous of life that with the fear of death he bec●…meth miserable, and though the doubt thereof lameth him of one hand and of one leg, of one thigh, maketh him crooked, and loseneth all his teeth, yet so long as life continueth it maketh no matter, all is well, such a miserable thing doth death seem unto him. He wisheth his pains more extreme, and that which is hard to be abidden he desireth to prolong and maintain a great while: and for what reward or wages? even to obtain longer life. But what is this long life? as long a death. Is there any who would languish in torments and perish member after member, that had not rather cast away his life by little & little, then to cast it away all at once? Deny me then, that the necessity of death is not a great be●… of nature: for many are ready even to make worse bargains as to betray their friends, whereby to live long: to become bawds to their children, to the end to see the next day witness of so many mischiefs? we must therefore shake of this desire of life, & say that it skilleth not when we suffer, for as well one day we must suffer, It skilleth not how long thou livest so thou livest well: & unto good life many times long life is hurtful.   

¶ Epistle. 103.  
ANother original and estate of all things tarrieth us, fear not therefore to tarry the appointed hour, which will take thee from hence. What soever thou seest about thee accounted it as movables and baggage of hostryes and that thou must go forward. Nature abaseth men at their departure, as at their coming in. We carry away no more than we bring with us. All that is lapped about thee shall he taken away, thy skin shallbe thy last cover. Yea this skin, this flesh, this blood which is dispersed in all parts, these bones and these Sinews that do sustain the more feeble parts shallbe taken and plucked from thee. This day which thou fearest as the last, is the beginning of an everlasting day, thou weepest & houlest so doth the new born child●…. Why art thou heavy? These things are usual. Thus do the covers of those that be born ●…e rish, wherefore lovest y● these things as if they were thy? they be things where with thou art but covered. But the day will come that will uncover thee, & take thee out of the house of thy filthy and stinking body Here after begin to meditate upon some more higher & mystical mátters. One day thou shalt know the secrets of nature. These clouds shall departed & light shall appear on all sides. Imagine with thyself what a light it will be when so many stars have joined their lights together. No more shadow shall derken the bright element: all the pàrtes thereof shall shine alike: the day & night which keep their course are but accidents in this lower air. Thou will't sày the here thou hast lived in darkness when y● shalt at full behold all this light which now y● seest but through the narrow windows of thy eyes & yet dost wonder at them a far of. What will't y● think of the heavenly light when thou shalt see it in his place?  
This contemplation leaveth no thing impotent in this vile, low & cruel mind. ●…ith God to be witness of all things. It commandeth us to seek that he would allow of us, to prepare hereafter unto him ward, and so propound to ourselves this eternity, the which who soever hath comprehended in his understanding, fears no annoy, is not ●…ooued at the sound of trumpets, neither doubteth any kind of threatenings. For what can he fear that hopeth to dye? Think how much good examples do profit us, and thou shalt know that the remembrance of mighty men is no less commodious than even their presence.   

Epistle. 108.  
TO live is no delicate matter, thou hast begun a long race. thou shalt fall and rise again, yea even fall down and wax weary, here shalt thou leave one of thy companions, there shalt thou bring an other to his grave, in another place thyself shalt be afeard. Through many such by paths shalt thou pass this rough way. Must thou dye? prepare thy mind against all things. Let thy heart know that it is comen into a good place where weepings & care have taken their lodging, and where pale diseases and sorrowful age have choose their habitation. In this company must thou néedꝭ pass over thy life: well mayst thou despise & make none accounted of these things, but avoid them thou canst not.  
Thou shalt not regard them if thou thinkest often & reckonest as of things which must needs happen. All men do approach more valiantly to the thing long before premeditated, & do resist the same courageously: and contrariwise be suppressed & taken on a sudden all astonished at small matters: seeing then that all things (were it but for their novelty) do seem grievous: in continually thinking hereunto thou shalt not be as aprentise to seek what thou hast to do against such evils. Let us not therefore wonder at any thing whereunto we are born. Of them no man can complain because they are alike unto all men. I say in this case alike, because he that hath escaped them was nevertheless subject unto them. For the law is not called indifferent because every man useth it, but because it was indifferently ordained unto all men. Let us frame our minds to equity & without lamenting our mortal nature pay our tribute willingly. Is winter cold? cold is necessary, doth summer bring heat? we must not be without beaten. Doth the distempered air hinder our health? we must be sick. Sometimes we shall meet with a wild beast, yea often times with men more dangerous than wild beasts. Fire will consume some, and water other some. We can not altar the nature of things. The best than is to pay that which we cannot be quit of, and without murmuring to imitate and follow the will of God the author of all things. It is the part of an evil soldier to follow his captain with howlings. Destiny leadeth him that goeth of his own accord, & draweth him that cometh against his wil Thus should we live, thus should we speak. Let death find us ready disposed and nothing slack. It is truly a valiant and noble ●…rt which so 〈◊〉 itself: but he that ●…ueth here against is of a faint, cowardly & slowish mind which thinketh amiss of the order of the world, and had rather correct God then itself.   

Epistle. 121.  
MAn is never more heavenly than when he considereth his mortal nature, and knoweth that he is born a man, to die, assurig himself that this body is not his own house but an Inn, & such an Inn as he must shortly part from. It is a great token of an haughty mind to accounted these places where he is conversant, ●…ce, & strait, and not to fear to departed from them. For in that he knoweth and 〈◊〉 from whence he cometh, he knoweth also whither he must re●…urn. See we not how many discommodities we overpass, and how unfit this body is for us? Sometime we complain of our bellies, of our 〈◊〉, or of our throat. Othertimes our sinews or our feet do 〈◊〉 us. Other while some flux or 〈◊〉 molesteth us. Other while we have to much blood and otherwhiles to little. We are tempted and ●…ed from place to place. Thus are they ordinarily used which dwell in other men's houses, and yet being furnished of such villainous bodies we do here propound to ourselves eternal matters and as far as man's age can extend, we do through hope promise' ourselves all things. We are not content with any wealth or authority. Is there any thing more shameless and foolish?  
We are made to dye, and yet at our death nothing seemeth sufficient for us. For daily we draw nearer the last point, and every hour driveth us to the place from which we cannot escape: behold then the blindness of man's understanding. If therefore a high mind which finally knoweth a better nature than this Earthly, doth take order to live honestly and painfully in that vocation whereto it is called, it accounteth none of those things which be about it proper to itself, but as a Pilgrim and travailer, useth the same as things convenient.    

¶ Out of his first book of the tranquillity of life.  
LIfe is but a bondage, wherefore we must use ourselves to the conditions thereof complaining against it so little as may be, and embrace whatsoever discommodity is in it. There is nothing so sharp wherein a mild mind finds not some comfort. Evil doth he live who knoweth not how to dye well. He that fears death will never do deed of a living man. But who so knoweth that this even from his birth hath been signified unto him, will with like courage take order that what soever happeneth, nothing shall come suddenly as unlooked for.  
Sickness, imprisonment, destruction, burnings, none of all this cometh suddenly upon him. For the wise man will say, I knew in how troublesome an house nature had placed me.  
Many an Alarm hath been given at my neighbour's house, many an untimely funer all hath passed by my doers, many a crack of ruinous houses hath sounded in mine ears. The night hath carried away many of those whom the Palace, the Court, and familiarity had joined unto me, cutting away in manner th●…ire hande●… from between mine.  
I marvel how so many dangers coming on all sides of me, could escape myself. But many other men when they take their Shipping, think not on the tempest. No man think●…th that what so ever happeneth to another can happen unto himself. For who so had printed these things in his mind, & had considered what free acc●… the e●…ils of others have to himself, he would put on and prepare his a●…mour long before he were assailed. After danger it is to late to exhort his mind to take perils patiently. But will he say, I thought not that this would have happened, I would never have believed that such a thing could have come to pass. And why not? Where be the riches which poverty, fam sne, and beggary ●…oo not follow, even at the heels? Where be th●… dignities and Magistrates robes, which the rags do not accompany, either by a banishment, a blot, a reproach, or an extreme slander? Where is the Realm whose destructi on is not nigh and whose accuser & formentor is not at hand? etc.   

Out of his book of the shortness of life.  
MOst part of mortal men (o Pauline) do complain of the frowardness of nature. That we be engendered for a short time, and that the spaces of time that be granted us do run and flee so wiftly away, that most men do leave their lives before they can almost prepare themselves to li●…e. Our time appointed is not short, but we loose much of it. There hath been given us life enough & that not niggardly to accomplish great matters, if it had been all well bes●…owed: but when it ●…des away in pleasures and idle●…es, when we bestow it not upon any good matter, in the end being pressed by extreme necessity we find our life wasted, and yet cannot tell how. This it is, we have not received any short life, but we have s●…ortned it. We do not make spare, but are over prodigal of our li●…es. As the innumerable treasures falling in the hands of an evil husband, are suddenly dispearced, and contrariwise the mean quantity falling in a wise man's hand, doth through use increase the more, so likewise is our age very ample to him that can well order the same. Wherefore do we then complain of nature? she hath behaved herself 〈◊〉 toward us. Our life is long enough if we known how to use it. One is held with insatiable covetousness, an other useth painful diligence in 〈◊〉 labours. One is moistened in wine, an other ling●…eth in loyt●…ing; an other is toiled and withered with ambition, depending upon the judgement and voice of others. An other for hope of gains through an headlong covetousness of traffic compasseth all lands & seas●… Others are vexed with desire of war, always labouring either in their ●…wn dangers or in bringing other men into danger. Others there are who can delight in following nokinde of course, but even languishing & yawning for sorrow death taketh bold of them, whe●…by I ●…ut nothing of the truth of y● whi●… the chiefest poets have pronounced after manner of Oracles. Of all our life, that part that we live is the lest, and all the other space is not properly ●…ife, but a time. Every man divideth his life in to divers things. Some are hard & ●…igardly in keeping their patrimony, others are as prodigal in losing the time I say the time, the covetousness whereof is honest and not lamentable. I will therefore take one among the number o●… old men. Come on, we see that thou hast attained to the end of man's nature; as far as man's age can reach. Thou art about thy hundredth year, 〈◊〉 therefore to me some part of thy age. Tell me how much of thy time hath thy creditor taken away from thee, how much thy friend, how much thy common wealth, then how much 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 with thy wife, the 〈◊〉 of thy servants, and thy journeys 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 the town for thy friends sake. 〈◊〉 ●…ut the diseases which 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 procured, and then add to it how much thou hast left to spare. Thou shalt find that thou hast fewer years then; thou ●…ast reckoned. Call to thy mind whe●… thou wert resolved in any determinati on how many days passe●…●…uer according to thy fprca●…, how many have promise fited thee when thy countenance was in good estate, & thy mind de●…oid of fear, what business thou hast sustained in all this so long age, afterward how many men have ra●…ished & wasted thy life; while thou hast not felt th●… loss, how much a vain sorrow, a foolish joy, a sharp desire, & a flattering con●…ersation have taken away ●…rom thee. And after all this; how much thou haste le●… of 〈◊〉 that was thy. So shalt thou see that yet thou diest before thou be'st ripe, or thy time come. And who is cause hée●…eof?  
Thou livest as if thou shouldst always live. Thou never thinkest upon thy good husbandry. Thou never markest how much time is go. Theu spendest and losest as if thou hadst 〈◊〉. Thou fearest as a mortal man, and covetest all, as immortal.  
We shall hear thee say, fifty years 〈◊〉 I will take mine ease: three score years he●… I will give ●…uer mine Office. And I pray thee where haste thou got any longer life? whose letters pa●… tentꝭ 〈◊〉 promised thee that thou shalt live longer? Who will permit things to fall out as thou 〈◊〉 appointed? Art thou not ashamed to reserve the remnants of thy life for thy wisdom, and appoint the time which y● art not 〈◊〉 to bestow upon any thing? O how 〈◊〉 is it to begin to live, when thou must leave this life? 〈◊〉 not this a foolish forgetfulness of out mortal 〈◊〉, to delay a good and sound advice, unto our fifteth year, and to seek to begin our life at that place whereunto few can attain? You shall 〈◊〉 the most mighty, 〈◊〉 an't, and lofty people sometime let 〈◊〉 words tending to desire of quietness, praising and preferring the ●…ame before all their wealth. They would (〈◊〉 they might safely) come down from the top where they stand.  
The mighty Emperor Augustus endued with more graces then any, ceased 〈◊〉 to wish for quietness, and to seek for varations whereby he might be exempt from dealing in public affairs. All his communication tended to that effect. This quiet seemed to him so great a matter, that not being able to comprehend it in effect, he apprehended it in thought. He tha●… see all things depend upon himself, that gave to all nations such fortune as him 〈◊〉 li●…ed, esteemed the day happy where in he might depose his authority: he had tried how much sweat the goods which glistered upon earth did procure, and how many secret thoughts they did conc●…ale.  
It ●…re but superfluous to rehearse many who to others seemed happy, and yet themselves bore other witness against themselves, when they discoursed upon the actions of their years, and yet with all these complaints could never change, neither other men, neither themselves, for although such words escaped them, yet did their affections still return to their former ward. Truly although our life should last a thousand years, yet would it still seem but short, the worlds would devour it quite. All that time which though nature doth cover yet reason might set free through good husbandry, must nevertheless flee from us in a more meant. For we take no bold of it, we stay it not, neither do slack the pace of it through our diligence in any thing, but we let it go as superfluous & which cannot be recovered. All our life time we must learn to live: yea, which is more strange, all our life time must we learn to dye. Such mighty men as have forsaken all lets, and renounced all their goods, offices, & pleasures, have go about none other thing, e●… to the end of their age, but to learn to live, and yet most part have died, confessing that yet they known not the way.  
Every man hasteneth his life, labouring with desire of time to come, and weariness of time present. But he that hath no time but that that he bestoweth to his own use, and that ordereth each day as a life, neither wisheth nor ●…eareth to morrow. What will happen? How ever thou be occupied thy life departeth, thy death doth approach and will be with thee by and by, wherefore will thou, or nil thou, thou must be at leisure.  
They frame their life at the coast of their life, & do discourse thereof a ●…ar of. The gre●…test loss that is in life, proceedeth of delay. Delay taketh away thy first days, it catcheth away things present, while it promises thee things to come. The stay which dependeth upon to morrow and loseth this day, is a great let unto life. Thou appointest of that that is in the hand of Fortune, and lettest slip that which thyself haste hold of. Where lookest thou? What tendest thou? All things to come are uncertain.  
To be brief, thou shalt understand that aged men do live but a short space. Mark then how old men which do even dote do seek longer life. They do through vows and wishes entreat for the increase of a few years. They do persuade themselves to be younger than in deed they be. They do flatter themselves with feignings, and 〈◊〉 deceive themselves as willingly as if they deceived both death and destiny together. If through any faintness they be admonished of their 〈◊〉, o how ●…ully they die? It seemeth that they do rather pluck themselves up by the roots, then quietly depart this life. Then they say that they have been fools, and through their folly have not lived their whole time: but if they might escape this sickness, they would live quietly and give over all affairs. Then begin they to consider that they have in vain prepared those things which themselves shall not enjoy, and that all their labour hath been in vain and is come to no effect. Those only are wise and do live, which tend to the learning of wisdom, for they do not only well preserve their age, but do also and thereunto all their time past. All the years go before have they got, and so have we likewise unless we be unthankful.  
The famous authors of these goodly and sacred opinions are born for us. They have prepared life for us. We through the labour of other men are guided unto goodly matters, and 〈◊〉 digged up and drawn out of darkness & so brought to light. If we delight through valiant minds so get out of the strait bonds of human weakness, we have time enough to walk on ou●… way. We are parmitted with Socrates to dispute, Carneades to doubt, with some to rest 〈◊〉, and with other some to overcome and surmount human nature.  
Seeing then that nature admitteth us to the company of all woorldspassed, why do we not abandon this little and frail passage of time, and with all our hearts give ourselves unto high and eternal matters, which we may participate with the best? Of men which run from office to office, which be importunate both to themselves and other men, when they have well run from street to street, where they have trotted from door to door, when they have left no door open wherein they have not thrust in their nose, when they have walked salutations for hire from house to house, how many, be there in a great town letted with diverse pleasures, that they cannot see, and yet can well tell how to rid their hands of them and sand them away, to the end to sleep quietly, or pass over their time in riotousness, or else are uncourteous and hard to be spoken withal. We therefore do stay upon better offices.  
Each man that listeth may have 〈◊〉 access and private conversation daily with Zeno, Pythagoras, Democritus, Aristotle, Theophrastus, and other such principal Authors of g●…d Artes. He shall find none of them letted, but all at leisure to common with him. Each one will sand him away more happy, content and desirous of their amity, none of them will suffer him to depart empty.   

¶ Out of his book of consolation.  
IT is a great comfort to a man to think that that which all men before him have suffered, and all that are to come shall suffer, either is or must hap to himself: and in mine opinion nature hath made common to all men the thing which to them all was most gréevons, to th'end that such equality might comfort the rigour and cruelty of death. Come on then 〈◊〉 hold every way all mortal men, on all sides thou shalt see great and continual cause of lamentation.  
Ambition which is never in rest tormenteth one, poverty calleth an other daily to work: an other fears the riches that he hath wished for, & is in con tinuall pain through his own desire. One is vexed with care, another with labour, an other with press of people which continually do besiedge the threshold of his doors. This man is sorry he hath Children, that man that his are go: sooner shall we want tears then caus●…s to weep. Seest thou not what life nature hath permitted to us, which hath ordained that all men at their birth should weep. With this beginning do we enter into the world hereunto doth the rest of our years agree, and thus do we pass our life.  
All those goods which through pleasure do delight us, which have but the outward she we and within is full of deceit. I speak of money, dignities, power, authority and such like, which astonisheth the blind covetousness of man kind, do we possess with pain and envy of other men, and even among those that have them they use more threats than authority. They be slippery and uncertain, man is never in any assurance of them, we are still in danger jest they should escape us. Yea although a man fear nothing that might happen, yet the custody of a great felicity is full of cares: If thou will't believe them that more narrowly do search the truth, all this life is but pain. We are thrown into this deep and unconstant sea, which continually ebbeth and floweth, hoisteth us up with her rising, and then casts us down with greater barm, and still tormenteth us either with rising or falling.  
We miserable wretches (I say) ●…aue never any firm or assured dwelling place. We remain still in doubt, always swimming, hitting one against an other, and many times making S●…wrack. In this surging Sea being abandoned to all tempest we live in con tinuall fear. All they that sail therein have n●…e other Haven than death.   

After what manner many evils do chance to honest men, out of his book of God's providence.  
THou hast asked me, Lucilius, in case the world be guided by God's providence, how it chanceth that so many evils do happen to honest men. I will in this my work wherein I do pretend to prove that God's providence is above all things and that God himself haunteth among us, show thee a good reason. Between honest men and God there is a kind of amity, procured and contracted through virtue, and not an amity only but a most strait alliance and likeness. For time only is a difference between the honest man & God: Man is the follower, disciple and assured o●…pring of God, and therefore his triumphant father which requireth earnestly of him to be virtuous, nurisheth him hardly after the manner of severe a Father. When (therefore) thou seest honest men, whom God liketh of, labour, sweat, and have still stony paths to walk in, and contrariwise the wicked men pass over their time in folly, and wallow in dilights that do turmoil our children, and let run at random the children of our slaves that through a sorrowful and laboursome discipline, we do withhold our own children in their duties, & let go the rains unto that others. Be y● therefore certain of the like at God's hand: He dallieth not with an honest man, but trieth him, hardeneth him, & prepareth him for his service.   

¶ Of the means to bear adversity, out of the same book.  
Wherefore do many evils happen to honest men? no evil can hurt the ho nest man. Contrary things cannot be mixed together, he accounteth all adversities as exercises. For what honourable ●…an is not desirous of a true and ready labour, even with hazard to utter some good duty, Virtue languisheth & withereth away when she hath none enemy: but having one it appeareth who she is, how much she is worth, & what she can do, when through patience she shewher power.  
Honest men therefore must take in good part and think well of what so happeneth to them. It skilleth not what thou sufferest, but how thou sufferest it. Dost thou not see that Fathers and mothers do entreat their Children 〈◊〉. The Fathers command their Children to exercise themselves, to study apace, not suffering them to be idle even on the 〈◊〉 days, and often times bring forth the sweat out of their brows, and tears from their eyes. The Mothers contrariwise do dandle them on their laps, in the Chimney corner, or in the shadow, not suffering them to weep, to vex themselves, to take any care, or to labour.  
So God toward honest men beareth a Fatherly heart and a manly love. He troubleth and molesteth them with labour, sorrow, and losses, whereby they may gather and obtain true force. But those bodies which are fatted up, do not only fail in labour, but also languish away through sluggishness, fainting and falling down under their own labour and weight. The felicity which was never hurt, cannot indnre any great stripe. Among many stout words of our friend Demetrius, this being still fresh and sounding in mine ears doth best please me. I find (says he) nothing more unhappy than him that never sustained damage or adversity. The more that a man is tormented, the greater is his honour.   

Of Prosperity. Out of the same book.  
PRosperous thing●… do still light in the hands of the mean people of vile and base minds: but the property of a valiant man is to subdue calamities and what soever else that astonisheth mortal men. I do accounted thee miserable, because thou vast felt no misery, & unhapy in that thou hast no mischances. Thou hast lived without any enemies. No man, not not thyself can tell what thou canst do.  
It is necessary for the better knowledge of thyself, first to try thy ability, for who is perfect in any thing which be hath not proved? Virtue desireth danger, viewing how far it stretcheth, and where it endeth, and not what she must endure before she come at it. For what so she hath to endure is part of 〈◊〉 glory. The Pilate is not known before the tempest, neither the soldier until the battle be begun. How shall I know how thou canst bear poverty: so long as thou swimmest in wealth? Where shall I learn thy constancy against ignominy, infamy, and battered of the people, so long as thou con tinuest amongst the rejoicings of all men, or if a certain inclination of men's minds toward thee doth still fol low thee? Thy calamitieiss a cause of virtue.  
Those than whom God loveth he proveth, hardeneth, vieweth, visiteth. and doth exercise. And contrariwise those whom he seemeth to flatter and spare doth he reserve to leave them the more delicate and fainthearted in the evils to come. Why doth GOD afflict the best with sickness, sorrows, and discommodities? Or wherefore in any Army, are the greatest and most dangerous enterprises committed to the most courageous and va leaned people: or wherefore doth the captain sand his choose Soldiers to scirmish with the enemy, to view a way, to win a passage and to drive those away which do keep the same.  
None of them says, my captain hath done me wrong, but rather, he ac counteth well of him. So likewise should all those say, who through God's permission do endure those evils of the which Cowards and effeminate people be weary. God did accounted us worthy to be tried how much man's nature can suffer and endure.  
Flee therefore these delights, eschew this faint and effeminate felicity which distempereth and molifieth the heart, lulling it asleep in a perpetual drunkenness except there ha●…peneth some chance which from time to time putteth him in mind of man's estate. Alas were it not far better to sustain such perpetual felicity as conducteth thee to virtue, then to quail under an infinite wait of wealth.  
Therefore God toward the good men doth as Schoolmasters toward their Scholars, in giving the painfullest lessons to those in whom●… is most likelihood.  
Thinkest thou (I pray thee) that the Lacedæmonians hated their Children, when in proving their natures they did even whip them openly, yea, their own Fathers exhorted them valiantly to bear the stripes, and all torn and half swooned, desired them to heap wound upon wound.  
What marvel is it therefore though GOD have hardly entreated and tried the valiant minds. To be in continual danger causeth us not to care for danger. And so do Mariners strengthen their bodies to the air of the Sea: Labourers harden their hands to work: Soldiers pra●… their arms to the casting of the Dart: and Runners make their 〈◊〉 nimble to pass the Carrier.  
To be, brief, that part of man is moste●… 〈◊〉 that is oftennest exercised. No ●…ree is so steadfast and strong as that whereon the wind doth daily beat, for through torments it gathereth itself closer and taketh surer root.  
I do also remember this courageous voice of Demetrius. Of one thing, o immortal Godis (says he) do I complain of you, and that is, that you did no sooner show me your wills. For of myself I would have come, where now being sent for I do appear. Will you take my children? I offer them unto you. Will you have part of my body? take it. I promise' no great thing, for aswell I shall shortly leave it all. Will you have my spirit? why not? the fault shall not be in me, I will not let, but that you may take whatsoever you have given me. Willingly shall you carry away what so ever you ask me. What is there else? I had rather have offered it to you myself, then to leave it to you. What need you take it from me? you may take it, but you shall not take it from me, ' for nothing can be taken away, but from him that doth resist. But I am not con●…d, I suffer it not against my will, and so serve not God, but do consent to his wil  
Fire trieth Gold, and 〈◊〉 the ●…rt of man. But wherefore then doth God suffer any evil to be done to good men? Nay contrariwise, he suffereth it not, for he hath put from them all evils, mischiefs, naughty thoughts, thievish counsels, blind whoredoms, and covetounesse which continually lieth in wait for other men, & he himself keepeth them. But seeing he withholdeth them, would not some men also desire him to keep their goods and baggage? Not for they do ease God of that pain, in that they make none accounted of outward things.  
Demetrius threw away his riches esteeming them as a burden unto the good mind. Imagine thou therefore that God says: what have you to complain of unto me, you that have delighted in righteousness. I have compassed the rest with false goods, and have settled their vain minds in a long & false dream. I have painted them out with Gold, Silver, and ivory, but within is nothing any thing worth.  
They whom at the first you take to be blessed, if you look well upon them, not on that side that you see when they meet with you, but on the other side which is hidden, you shall find them miserable, ●…lthye, and ahominable, and there is nothing but their walls ●…ecked and painted out on the outside. This therefore is not the firm and perfect felicity. This is but a crust and yet that a thin & very fine one. wherefore so long as they can stand upright, and show but what part they list, they do glister and deceive the people.  
But if peradventure by chance they fall and be discovered, then may you plainly perceive how filthy and deep villainy is hidden under a borrowed brightness. But the contrary is in you. I have given you assured goods which will continued. The oftener they be turned, and the narowlyer that they be tooked upon, so much the better and excellent will they appear, which are these. To make none accounted of that that we fear, and to disdain that that ordinarily we do desire. You show not 〈◊〉 wardly all those goods which are with in you. Thus doth this Monarch disdain the outward paries, & is content with the contemplation of himself. He hath set up all his goods within. Your felicity is not to have to do with felicity.   
FINIS.