The Truth of our Times: Revealed out of one Man's Experience, by way of Essay.  
Written by Henry Peacham.  
LONDON: Printed by N. O. for james Becket, and are to be sold at his shop at the middle Temple gate. 1638.   

To my Honoured and much Respected Friend, Mr. Henry Barnwell of Turrington in Marshland near to Kings-Lynne in the County of Northfolk.  
Sir,  
WHen I had finished this l●●tle piece, and bethought myself to whom I should present the Dedication: I often (as Pliny adviseth Authors to do) considered the Title, which was Experience: now lest the Porch or forefront might not be suitable to the whole Fabric, I begin with the Experience I formerly have had of your Friendly respect of me, ever since our first acquaintance at Lynne, which you have continued by many years, even to our late, and last meeting in London.  
The consideration whereof hath moved me to be publicly thankful, (for I ever hated ingratitude) and desirous at so far a distance, not to be forgotten so long as you shall have this little Book (the pledge of my affection) lying by you. Little it is indeed, but of little Books let me say as Virgil said of little Bees: Ingentes animos in parv● corpore versant.  
Wha●●●ever it is, accept (I pray you) who can both judge and understand, and I am sure will take in good part, whatsoever shall proceed from the Pen of him, who truly and affectionately  
Will be ever ready to do you any friendly service. Henry Peacham.   

To the Reader.  
IT fareth with me now (honest Reader) as with a Traveller in Winter, who having foolishly ventured over some dangerous River or Passage quite frozen with jyce, stands on the other side pointing with his Finger, and showing his following friends where it Cracked. In the same manner I have ventured before, tried the coldness of these Frozen and hard times, together with the slippery ways of this deceitful and trustless world; standing (I hope) now at the last safe on this other side, I show those, that are to follow me, where the danger is. I have seen and known much, as well in England, as some where else abroad, and have had much acquaintance (and which hath been my Happiness, if it be an happiness) with the most famous men of our time in all excellent professions, whence I am not altogether ignorant in the noble Sciences, aswel, the Theoric as Practic, but to say the truth, I have ever found multiplicity of Knowledge in many things to hav● been rather an hindrance, than ever any Way-tending to advancement. Having hereby found much employment to no purpose; but as we see a Carrier's horse when he is heavily loaden hath Bells hung about his neck, to give him some content on the way, and to allay the pain of his burden: So have I taken pains and deserved well at the hands of many of good rank, yet got I never any thing hereby save the Horse-bels of Praise, Thanks, and fruitless promises, which (like the Carriers) they can put on and take off at their pleasure. Vix vivitur gra●●●s, saith Plautus. The Peacock, as Mantuan hath it, was admired for his Plumes, which every beholder would be ready to snatch off, but in the meantime there was none of them all would give him so much as a grain, to ●ill his belly. In a word, the main and most material of my observations, and which the nearest concerned myself, (Reader) I present thee withal, the less will fall in of themselves, and are obvious: but fearing thou shouldst give me such a jeer as Diogenes did unto those of Mindum, I make my Gate but little, lest the whole City should run out; thus leaving what I have known by mine own experience to be certain unt● thy friendly Censure, I rest thine  
H.P.   

Imprimatur Tho. Weeks R. P. Episc. Londi. Cappel Domest.   

The Truth of our Times revealed out of one Man's experience, by way of Essay.  

Of God's Providence.  
I Will begin my first Observation (which from a child I have seriously considered) with the contemplation of God's Providence, which is never wanting to the protection of them, and their posterity, who in singleness of heart have sought, and sincerely served him all their lives; averring with David, 
Psa. 37.25  that I never saw the righteous forsaken, nor his seed begging their bread.  
When on the contrary, Oppressors, Atheists, cruel men, idle and lewd livers have with the curse of Reuben, 
Gen. 49.4.  been as water spilt upon the ground: they have either sunk into the earth, or ran without consistence, every one his several way so far, that their place of Birth or Being in a second or third generation hath been quite lost, and utterly forgotten: 
Ps. 37.35.  I have seen the ungodly flourish, etc.  
I never knew any sacrilegious Vulture digest that which he snatched from the Altar; or any demolisher of Churches, or such as had converted them to profane uses; as turning them into Stables, Sheep-coats, (after the depopulation of the whole Town) thrive in their estates: and many of them have I known to have come to infamous and desperate ends, yea, being their own executioners.  
I have again observed the especial providence and Goodness of God extended toward the meanest & poorest, whom the world hath contemned● as a poor man in the country, who by his only hand-labour earning a groat or six pence by the day, to have brought up a charge of six or seven Children: who (poor things) get seldom their bellies full of bread, and their drink is many times (as I have seen it) but a roasted Crab, crushed into a dish of fair water; and for the greatest part of the year go barefooted, and barelegged: yet commonly, like Daniel with his pulse, are they as fresh-coloured, healthy, cheerful, as free from diseases as the best men's children in the Country, who usually are pampered, & crammed with the greatest dainties that may be gotten, many times till their bellies are ready to burst: And though the Parishes where they are born, commonly a●●oun● of them no better than beggar's b●ats, not worth the loo●ing after; and caring not how soon they were rid of them to avoid charge, yet by the blessing of God, attaining (as many of them have done) to the most eminent places of dignity, as well in Church as Commonwealth, they have obliged their native places to them, by erecting Schools, Hospitals, Almshouses, and doing other charitable works, which of itself the whole Parish had never been able to have performed.  
I might fill a whole Volume, if I should reckon up all such great and eminent personages the Cottage hath afforded, as principal pillars to the support of our Commonwealth; or tell you what magnificent works have been done by Bishops, Lord Majors, and Citizens of London, whose Parents have been extreme poor and obscure; and which is more, not a son, but sons of one poor man have participated and shared in honourable advancement.  
Chicheley, a very poor man of Higham Ferrer in Northamptonshire, about the time of Henry 5. had two sons, the on● Archbishop of Canterbury, (the founder of Allsoules in Oxford) and t●e other Lord Major of London both at one time. Patten of Wain●let in Lincolnshire, a man of mean estate, had also two sons, the one was William the Wainflet, Bishop of Winchester, and Founder of that magnificent College magdalen's in Oxford, (besides a School at Wainflet, where he was borne) and the other was Deane of Chichester; which brothers, one in the habit of a Bishop, the other of a Dean, support the pillow under their Father's head upon his Monument in Wainflet All-hallows Church, who lieth cut out in Alabaster in a side-coate, a great pouch, and a dudgeon-dagger at his Girdle. I could instance many others even of our own times, whose mean beginnings no whit can derogate from their esteem worthiness, but I had rather look backward, and farther off.  
I have also with great comfort observed the merciful goodness of God in providing for fatherless & motherless children, who being left in trust with some hard hearted Executor, or sometime to the miserable mercy of some poor Parish to be maintained, God miraculously hath taken them into his protection, by kindling Love and Pity in the hearts of those who are his, to receive and take them in; they keeping the true Fast which God commandeth in Esay. 
Esay 58.7.  And how in time with their growth, he guides them with his Grace, to live honestly, and uprightly, which were else impossible for these young and tender souls to do; especially in populous Cities, and public places, whither they are constrained at fourteen or fifteen years of age to come up with a silly Countrey-carrier, and some small sum of money (the benevolence of friends) to bear their charges, to seek services and means of living; where they know no body, neither are they known of any; being left as poor chickens ●aving lost their Mother Hen, and defender, unable to protect themselves, to the merciless mercy of a most cruel and pitiless Age: wherein besides they are in danger, through want and necessity to be seduced to lewd and ill courses, and as the Wise man saith, 
Wisd. 1●1●  To seek death in the error of their lives. Neither hath poverty any thing more unhappy in it, than perverting good natures, and drawing them into vicious courses, as a Poet justly complaineth: 
Mant●an.  O ●ala paupertas, vitij scelerisque ministra.  
Hence let all Parents, while they are living, be seriously careful to the uttermost of their powers, to provide something to maintain their poor children in their livelihood after their Deaths: if they cannot, to give them that education and knowledge, (in some Art or other) seasoned with the fear of God, that they may be able to encounter the manifold miseries of this wretched world, and withstand all lewd temptations & allurements unto vice.  
And being able in an honest calling to subsist of themselves, bless God for his care and goodness toward them, and say with the Psalmist, When my Father and Mother forsook me, thou oh Lord ●ookest me up: which freely I confess, I may say myself, being left young to the wide world to seek my fortune, and acknowledge the providence of Almighty God to have attended me both at home, and abroad in other Countries, for which I had rather be silently thankful, than to proclaim the particularities; (which to some may seem to be fabulous and incredible) and for any thing I know, I and mine must say yet, (though in a far different condition) with that Noble and great 
* ●arle of Cork.  Earl of Ireland, God's Providence is our inheritance.   

Of Schools and Masters.  
THere is no profession more necessary to the erecting the frame of a famous Commonwealth, than that of Schoolmasters, yet none in more disesteem among the common vulgar, yea, and illiterate great ones: I know not the reason of this, except that the greater part of the multitude being ignorant, they are desirous that their children should be so likewise: But I rather believe that which I have found true, Reward to be out of reach, and livings now a days to be like Lotteries; some principal prizes, as guilt Basins and Ewers; some of a middle rank, as Fruite-dishes and Candlesticks; some of the lea●t value, as Spoons and Saucers: yet one of these least many times costs him more than it is worth, in expense of many years in the University, his labour in search and making of friends, his money (hardly gotten) largely expended, and (as in a Lottery) all this getteth nothing.  
Some few prime schools in England, serve as a foil for the rest; I mean Westminster, Winchester, Eton, Paul's, with some few others, which at this day (as all others in general) have lost of their former greatness and esteem, not because there are not learned and able Masters, (there being now as sufficient as ever) and sound Grammarians among the Scholars, but because men have found shorter cuts in the way of preferment for their children.  
Neither do our Nobility and Gentry so much affect the study of good Letters as in former t●●es, loving better the Active tha● the Contemplative part of Knowledge, which in times of the Monasteries was more esteemed and doted on than now: when Kings and Princes were so devoted to the services of God, that they consecrated their Sons, Nephews, and other Kinsmen to the Church; some of whom have become Cardinals, as Beaufort, and Pool, whose Mother was a Plantagenet; I also omit many Bishops and Clergymen, who for the singular estimation of their sincerity, truth, and learning, have been made by the Prince his Treasurers, Chancellors, Masters of the Rolls, and preferred to other the like honourable places of trust and credit. And why may we not expect a re-advancement of Learning Ca●olinis ●isce temp●ribus, wherein so many works of Piety have been undertaken, and the worthiest advanced?  
Lewes the eleventh King of France, would say that his son should learn no more Latin, than Qui nescit dissimulare, nescit regnare: Of which opinion are many of our times, which is the reason, that after Travail they come home as wise as they went, and hold their tongues, where wise, and learned men are in discourse; and are left like wrecks in the open Sea of the World, without man, Mast, or Rudder to direct them in a right and orderly course. Now where Knowledge is undervalved, what reward can a Master expect? Teaching being one of the most laborious callings in the World, and the School well termed Pistrinum Paedagogicum. Hence the most Masters making Teaching a shift but for a time, till a be●ter fortune falls, and to say truth, In Grammatica senescere miserri●um. A Master of a Free School is more absolute; to teach in private houses, is subject to many inconveniences; the Master becometh more servile than their servants, who observe him to an inch, (and as commonly they are pickthanks) and lay all the blame of their young masters unlucky behaviour upon his Master: if he falls in climbing a Daws nest, his Master is in fault; if he be asked a question at the Table by a stranger, and is dumb, his Mother swells, and tells his Master, he loseth his time, and doth no good, though he taketh all the pains with him that possibly he can.  
But imagine there is a good correspondency held on all sides; he pleaseth the Parents as well in pains taking, as using the children mildly and gently, they again love their Master: let him expect no future preferment, but only (for the present) his bare stipend: But some may tell him, his Master hath ma●y Benefices in his gift; but believe me, not any that ever he shall be better: but why not, since he will bestow them gratis? yes, in the Adjective, (but not in the Adverbe) to them that will give most; sometimes if he happens to marry a Chambermaid of the house, he may far the better; neither much, Computatis computandis, for his wife (for charge) may stand him in as much as a small living may be worth; or if he be a neighbour's child, and his father, or some friend for him will lay down a matter of seven or eight score pounds to a second or third man. For Simoniacal Patroness are like pick-pockets in a throng, they will not have the purse and money found about them; they presently turn it off to another of their consorts not far off, who, to avoid the danger of the Law, hath taken in lease his Advouzons; so hereby both the King, Bishop of the Diocese, or the Universities are cheated of their right in the next presentation. But perhaps his Scholars, when they come to be men, and of themselves, will not be forgetful of him: let me tell him, he mu●t get him a pair of leaden shoes, if he means to attend upon so long and ●edious hopes, and withal remember that old monkish Verse, wherein the Reason is much better than the Rhyme: 
Servitium pueri, mulierum,  
& Black-monachorum●  
Est, & erit semper, small  
thanks in fine laborum.   
Indeed in the Universities many young Noblemen, and ingenuous learned Gentlemen have been very grateful afterward to their Tutors and Teachers, and have proved the only raisers of their fortunes; neither is here any long expectation, they being of years of judgement to discern a benefit, which commonly they requite ere it be outworn & forgotten. So that I conclude, it is most fitting that good Schoolmasters should be as well in public Cities & Towns, as private gentlemen's houses; but more fitting they should be better dealt withal then commonly they are in most places: beside, it were greatly to be wished, that those who took that profession upon them, and found themselves able to endure it, should follow none other calling so long as they lived, and (as in other Countries) to be maintained by the public with large and sufficient stipends; so themselves would not be unprovided in their age, and their scholars not be turned over to seek every year new masters; than which nothing can hurt or more hinder proficiency in Learning. For my part, I have done with that profession, having evermore found the world unthankful, how industrious soever I have been.   

Of making and publishing Books.  
SAlomon saith, There is no end of ●aking Books; and Books many times are made to no end, since according to that, Nihil dictum quod non prius: For writers now adays (like Cooks) dress but the same meat after another manner, which in substance is but one and the same. All the Libraries of the world have been ransacked and tossed over and over, and whatsoever hath borne the stamp of Antiquity, now vindicated from dust and moths, and brought to see the light of the Hebrew, Arabic, Greek, and Latin; having broken through the midnight and mi●ts of many barbarous Ages, have now regained their proper lustre and purity.  
Neither are the bare making of books now adays sufficient, but new Authors are made and brought to speak and determine controversies, not only in Divinity, but in other Sciences; and like painted wooden Cannons (against the walls of a weak town) do terrify for a while, but the stratagem is quickly discovered: and many ancient Authors that are made to speak more than they would if they were living, if Manutius hath spoken the truth; but this by the way: I would know whether out of a superlative singularity, or like the Griffons in Bactria) they envy the world should partake, and be sharers of that gold which they have digged for. Many famous and great Scholars love not to be seen in Print, (except a necessity by command of superiors) be laid upon them) being as they suppose, able to do as much with their tongues, there being already such a mass of books in the world, (which hath swallowed more than it can digest) it were a folly to burden it with more; especially there being not the third Reader to the fortieth book, and the better part of these vain, useless, yea, sometimes impious; of what sort are those of Casa, Bishop of Beneventum, Aretine, Machiavelli, and many other; so that among the learned and wise it is a great question, whether Printing hath done more hurt or good in the World. Certain it is, we have knowledge now almost at the height, according to the Prophet Daniel, 
Daniel 12  of these last times: Scientia multiplicabitur; but practice of Piety, Charity, and Devotion at the lowest, as St. Paul foretold of the same times.  
But say, thou being a general Scholar, a Traveller, an excellent Artist in one kind or other, and desirest (not out of a vain glory Digito monstrarier hic ●st) but of a good mind of profiting, and doing good to others, to make the World partaker of thy Knowledge if thou be'st a Scholar; or thy Observations, being a Traveller; or thy Experience or Invention, being an Artist; having spent many years, much money, and a great part of thy life, hoping by thy labours and honest deserving to get a respect in the world, or by thy Dedication the favour and support of some great personage for thy preferment, or a good round sum of a Stationer for thy Copy, and it must be a choice and rare one too; (which he for his own gain will look ●o) it will hardly by a tenth part countervail thy labour and charge. For the respect of the world is nothing; nay, thou sh●lt find it altogether ingrate, and thy Reader readier to requite thee with a jeer, or a scorn, than a good word to give thee thy due; and perhaps out of envy, because thou knowest more and art learneder than he: and though thou hast a general applause, thou shalt be but a nine day's wonder.  
But than you may say, the Dedication will be worth a great matter, either in present reward of money, or preferment by your Patroness Letter, or other means. And for this purpose you prefix a learned and as panegyrical Epistle as you can, and bestow great cost of the binding of your book, gilding and stringing of it in the best and finest man●er: Let me tell thee, whosoever thou art, if now adays (such are these times) thou gettest but as much as will pay for the bin●ing and strings, thou ar● w●l● enough, the rest th●u sh●ll have in promises of gre●●●atters; perhaps yo● sh●ll be w●lled to come another time, but one occasion or other will so fall out, that come never so often, you lose but your labour, your great Patron is not stirring, he is abroad at Dinner, he is busy with such a Lord; to be short, you and your labour are forgotten: some of his Pages in the mean time having made himself of your Book.  
See now learned Authors, and you Modern Poets, what end your elaboured lines tend unto, and what you gain by your neat and eloquent Epi●tles, wherewith many times you gilled senseless Statues, that will teach you (as they did Diogenes) patience when they are sought and sued unto.  
Aretine, I remember, giveth a Reason why Poets have not that esteem, and fall short of the munificence of Kings and Princes which formerly they did partake of. Poets (saith he) now adays are not rewarded for their Verses, because their Patroness in their conscience find themselves not guilty of any desert or merit, why they should be extolled by them. Again, an ingenuous and a ●ree spirit cannot Dor●r les oreilles d' Asne, as the French man says, do honour to the undeserving; there are many that befool themselves this way. Therefore let the book you dedicate, sort with his judgement and understanding to whom it is presented, as near as may be, you having formerly known him. I had rather present any work of mine to a private Patron, with whom I might confer of the subject, hear his judgement, and speak mine freely: beside, books are evermore best taken of such, and you be esteemed less ambitious. There be some so highly upborn by the bladders of their honour and greatness, that they receive your gi●t but as an homage or a tribute due to their transcendency.  
Leaving those farther off, let us look a little back to the Authors and Poets of late● time, and consider how they have thrived by their works and Dedications. The famous Spen●er did never get any preferment in his life, save toward his latter end he became a Clerk of the Council in Ireland; and dying in England, he died but poor. When he lay sick, the Noble, and pattern of true Honour, Robert, Earl of Essex, sent him twenty pound, either to relieve or bury him. josuah Silvester admired for his Translation of Bartas, died at Middleborough, a Factor for our English Merchants, having had very little or no reward at all, either for his pains or Dedication: And honest Mr. Michael Drayton had about some five pound lying by him at his death, which was Satis viatici ad coelum, as William Warham, Bishop of Canterbury, answered his Steward, (when lying upon his deathbed, he had asked him how much money he had in the house, he told his Grace Thirty pounds.) I have (I confess) published things of mine own heretofore, but I never gained one halfpenny by any Dedication that ever I made, save splendida promissa, (and as Plutarch saith) Byssina verba: Neither cared I much; for what I did, was to please myself only. So that I would wish no friend of mine in these days to make further use of English Poesy than in Epitaphs, Emblems, or Encomiastics for Friends: Yet i● his vein be for Latin, not to restrain himself herein; for hereby he shall do honour to our Nation, and become a man, though not of Mars, yet of Martes, getting himself hereby the name and reputation of a Scholar. As all other Excellency, so Latin Poesy is valued at an higher rate abroad, than with us in England, (albeit our wits are nothing inferior to theirs) and more bountifully in all places rewarded.  

Sint Moecenates, non deerunt  
Fla●ce Maro●es.   

Amongst us let Moecenases but be,  
And (Flaccus) Virgil's thou ●now shalt see.   
I confess I have spent too many good hours in this folly and fruitless exercise, having been ever naturally addicted to those Arts and Sciences which consist of proportion and number, as Painting, Music, and Poetry, and the Mathematical Sciences: but now having shaken hands with those vanities, (being exercised in another Calling) I bid them (though unwillingly, and as friends do at parting with some reluctancy) Adieu, and am with Horace his old Sencer forced to say, 
— Veiani●● armis  
Herculis ad po●tem fixis latet abditus agro.    

Of Liberty.  
THere is nothing so sweet and agreeable to the nature of Man, next unto his health, as his liberty, which, according to Tully's definition hereof, is an Arbitrium vivendiut velis, The choice of living as a man list himself. Wherefore Paracelsus (that glory of Germany, for his depth of knowledge in the nature of Minerals) to show his true happiness herein, when he traveled by the way, and came to his Inn at night, the first thing he did, he would lay his sword upon the Table, professing he would not give the same to be Emperor of Germany: it was a long broad sword, and had engraven upon the blade this: 
Alterius non sit qui suus esse potest.  As being the Emblem of his Liberty: In the pommel (which was hollow, and to be opened with a screw) were all his chief Quintessencies, and spiri●s of Metals and Herbs, wherewith he cured the most desperate Diseases, gaining hereby infinite treasure and sums of money.  
And the old Burgundians possessing that part of Germany which belongeth at this time to the Landgrave of Hessen, to express their hatred to bondage, and their love of Liberty, gave in their warlike Ensign a Cat, because no creature in the world is more impatient of bondage than it; for put her into a cage or grate, she never will be quiet, but rather beat herself to death there, than want her liberty. Hence that Prince is called Princeps Catorum, and in the German, Die Lantgraffe von Hessen: Hesse as well in the high as low Dutch signifying a Cat; for as we call here Pusse, so they there Hesse: yet in Gelderland they call her Pous as we do.  
Servitude was as a curse pronounced to them who had offended God, and transgressed his Law; as Noah cursed Canaan, saying, A servant of servants shall he be unto his brethren: 
Gen. 9 25  and we find indeed bondage to be but an effect of vice, as in unthrifty idle persons, and offenders of the Law; withal intemperate persons, who by their ill living fall into many long and loathsome diseases, are as it were in bonds bound to their beds, and imprisoned within their chambers, and set in the stocks by the Gout.  
There is also the want of half a man's Liberty in Marriage; for he is not absolutely himself, though many believe, when they are going to Church upon their Wedding-day, they are going into the Land of Liberty: But Solomon telleth them, The fool laugheth when he is going to the stocks. For my part, I am not married; if I were, I should find my wings clipped, and the collar too straight for my neck.  
The Low countries having tasted the sweetness of their liberty, when they had shaken off the yoke of Spain, gave for their Emblem a Lion, who having slipped his collar, looked behind him to the ●ame, with this Liber Le● revinciri●escit: An absolute man ca●not be he who wanteth his liberty.  
Who enjoy their liberty, commonly are longer lived than others who want it; they are more able in wit and judgement, they are more useful to the Commonwealth, when the rest are but Vmbratiles, but shadows of men; they have done the best works either of wit, or expense; they are the fastest & truest friends: lastly, they have been the fairest precedents of Piety and Goodness.  
But you tell me, every man cannot enjoy that condition, but some (yea, the most) must serve, and obey: It is true; I only speak of the ingenuous, and those as may, if it please them, be fabri fati sui, shape out their own fortune, yet rather choose a servile condition, before Liberty and Freedom: as if a Master of Arts should turn Gentleman Usher to an ordinary Lady; or a Lieutenant in the wars leave his honourable profession to become a Lords Porter; or like a foolish Vicar in Lincolnshire who would suffer his wife to raise him in cold winter mornings to make her a fire. Some again are by nature so base and obsequious, that being overcome with the presence of those who were greater or braver than themselves, they soothe him up, and foolishly applaud and admire whatsoever he says; and if he speaks in his own opinion any thing wisely, or like a Statist, and looketh about him for applause, they reply, Your Honour or Worship is in the ●ight, the best Counsellor the King hath, could not have spoken to better purpose, God maintain your life, if some would be ruled by you it would be better for all England; wi●h the like gross and palpable flattery. And if happily he utter a●y thing savouring of a j●st, they feign a Sardonian●mile ●mile by way of allowance of his facetious conceit. And indeed many there are so stately, & affecting greatness after so foolish a manner, that they become ridiculous, in suffering men ofttimes as good as themselves to stand bare before them three or four hours together, and therefore many times they hold them in talk for the purpose, in expecting the title of Honour or Worship at every word that is spoken, as if they were the Constables of the next Wapentake. Sometime they will be bold to command you as their menial servant, which also you must take as a favour. In brief, I will ever commend that gentile freedom of the French nation, who affect servility least of all other, especially that of standing bare, yea even in waiting at the ta●le, were it before the greatest Lord in France, (they usually bringing up the dishes with their hats on their heads) as also in freedom of speech, whereof none save slaves are debarred. For mine own part I affect freedom so much, and I have found such happiness therein, that I had rather dine even at a three penny Ordinary, where I may be free and merry, then to be a dumb tenant for two hours at a Lords table, preferring health and liberty, bonc corporis, before those of Fortune, and all the wealth the greatest Usurer hath in the wo●ld, and will ever say, 
O bona libertas pretio, pretiosior omni.    

Of Opinion.  
OPinion is a Monster of more heads than Hercules his Hydra; and if one happily be cut off, another ariseth forthwith in the room. One day when I walking in Breda in Brabant not far from the Market place, I passed by a Gentleman or Merchant's house, over whose great ga●es was written in letters of gold upon a blue ground, Totus mundus regitur opinion. I stood still, and pondering upon it, I found witty and weighty, to concern the whole world, and every one in particular, and myself especially at that time, since I thought it to be the best that I had seen, which perhaps another would have disliked.  
And I have often wondered why the ancient Pagans in their deifying so many, passed by Opinion, bearing a f●r greater sway than dogs, onions and leeks in Egypt, Cui nomen crescebat in hortis. Yet it is no great wonder, since deifying was wont to be done with a general consent, Opinion was never to expect it, every man where she reigns being of a several mind. It was but Opinion that caused Count Martinengo of Italy, of a noble house, and of an exceeding great estate to marry a common Laundress, whereupon within two or three days following, Pasquin i● Rome had a foul shirt put upon his back and underneath this in Italian, 
Perche Pasquin●, etc.   
Pasquin how haps it thou hast a foul shirt on upon a Sunday morning?  
Risposto.  
Because my Laundress is made a Countess.  
It is but Opinion that makes all the marriages in the world; for there is no beauty, favour, or complexion, but is loved and liked of by one or other, Nature so providing, that none might be lost for having.  
It is but Opinion that great Ladies many times marry their grooms, refusing great men, and of great means.  
It is but Opinion that one goes to Rome, another to New England, and a third to Amsterdam. It is also but Opinion that a proud cox●combe in the fashion, wearing Taffeta, and an ill favoured lock on his shoulder, thinks all that wear cloth, and are out of fashion, to be clowns, base, and unworthy his acquaintance.  
So that Opinion is the Compass the fool only saileth by in the vast Ocean of Ignorance: for hereby vices are taken for virtues, and so the contrary; and all the errors that men commit in their whole lives, is for want of the line and level of an even and true judgement, and it is the very rock whereat many, yea the most make shipwreck of their credits, estates, and lives.  
That Emblem was a pretty one, which was an old woman who having gathered up into her apron many dead men's skulls, which she found scattered upon the ground, with an intent to lay them up in a charnel house, but her apron slipping upon a hill where she stood, some ran one way, and some another; which the old woman seeing, Nay (quoth she) go your ways, for thus ye differed in your opinion when ye had life, every one taking his several way as he fancied. There is no Writer, none of public or private employment in the common wealth, but passeth in danger by the den of this oneeyed Polyphemus. And while I write, by how many opinions am I censured? one saying one thing, and another another, but I am not so unhappy as to fear or care for them; I hold on a direct course, and will never strike sail to Rovers.   

Of following the Fashion.  
ECclesiasticus saith, that by gate, laughter, and apparel, a man is known what he is. Truly nothing more discovereth the gravity or levity of the mind then apparel. I never knew a solid or wise man to affect this popular vanity; which cau●ed Henry the 4. of France to say usually of his Counsellors, and learneder sort of his Courtiers, that they had so much within them, that they never cared to beg regard from feathers and gold lace: and himself would commonly go as plain as an ordinary Gentleman or Citizen, only in black, sometime in a suit no better than buckram. The Emperor Charles the 5. seldom or never ware any gold or silver about him, save his Order of the Fleece. And the plainness of our English Kings in former times hath been very remarkable. King Henry the 8. was the first that ever ware a band about his neck, and that very plain, without lace, and about an inch or two in depth. We may see how the case is altered, he is not a Gentleman, nor in the fashion, whose ●and of Italian cutwork now standeth him not at the least in three or four pounds. Yea a Sempster in Holborn told me that there are of threescore pound price a piece; and shoe-ties, that go under the name of Roses, from thirty shillings to three, four, and five pounds the pair. Yea a Gallant of the time not long since, paid thirty pound for a pair. I would have had him by himself to have eaten that ●ish of buttered Eggs prepared with Musk and Ambergris, which cost thirty and five pounds, and when his belly had been full, to have laid him to sleep upon my Lady N. bed, whose furniture cost her Ladyship five hundred and threescore pounds.  
I never knew any wholly affected to follow fashions, to have been any way useful or profitable to the common wealth, except that way Aristotle affirmeth the prodigal man to be, by scattering his money about to the benefit of many, Tailors, Sempsters, Silkmen, etc. Neither ever knew I any man esteemed the better or the wiser for his bravery, but among ●imple people. Now this thing we call the Fashion, so much hunted and pursued after (like a thief with an Hue and Cry) that our ●aylors dog it into France even to the very door. It reigns commonly like an Epidemical disease, first infecting the Court, than the City, after the Country; from the Countess to the Chambriere, who rather than she will want her curled locks, will turn them up with a hot pair of tongs, in stead of the irons. The Fashion (like an highe● Orb) hath the revolution commonly every hundred year, when the same comes into request again; which I saw once in Antwerp handsomely described by an he and she fool, turning a wheel about, with hats, hose, and doublets in the fashion, fastened round about it, which when they were below, began to mount up again, as we see them. For example, in the time of King Henry the 7. the slashed doublets now used were in request, only the coats of the King's Guard keep the same form they did, since they were first given them by the said King, who was the first king of England that had a guard about his person, and that by the advice of Sir William Stanley, who was shortly after beheaded for treason, albeit he set the Crown (found thrown in a hawthorn bush) upon the king's head in the field. After that the Flemish fashion in the time of King Henry the 8. came in request, of straight doublets, huge breeches let out with puffs, and cod pieces. In Queen Mary's time the Spanish was much in use. In Queen Elizabeth's time were the great bellied doublets, wide saucy sleeves, that would be in every dish before their master, and buttons as big as Tablemen, or the lesser sort of Sandwich Turnips; with huge ruffs that stood like Cart wheels about their necks, and round breeches not much unlike Saint Omers onions, whereto the long stocking without garters was joined, which then was the Earl of Leicester's fashion, and theirs who had the handsomest leg. The women wore straight bodied gowns, with narrow sleeves ●rawne out wi●h Lawn or fine Cambric in puff, with high bolstered wings, little ruffs edged with gold or black ●ilke; and maids wore cawles of gold, now quite out of use. Chains of gold were then of Lords, Knights, and Gentlemen commonly worn, but a chain of Gold now (to so high a rate Gold is raised) is as much as some of them are worth.  
The like variety hath been in Hats, which have been but of late years. Henry the 4. is commonly portrayed with a hood on his head, such as the Liveries of the City wear on their shoulders. Henry the 6. the 7. and 8. wore only Caps. King Philip in England wore commonly a somewhat high velvet Cap, with a white feather. After came in hats of a●l fashions, some with crowns so high, that beholding them far off, you would have thought you had discovered the Tenariffe, those close to the head like Barber's basons, with narrow brims, we were at that time beholden to Cadiz in Spain for. After them came up those with square crowns, and brims almost as broad as a Brewer's mash-fat, or a reasonable upper stone of a Mustard querne, which among my other Epigrams gave me occasion of this: 
Soranzo's broad brimmed hat I oft compare  
To the vast compass of the heavenly sphere:  
His head the Earth's globe, fixed under it,  
Whose Centre is, his wondrous little wit.   
No less variety hath been in hatbands, the Cypress being now quite out of use, save among some few of the graver sort.  
Wherefore the Spaniard and Dutch are much to be commended, who for some hundreds of years never altered their fashion, but have kept always one and the same.  
The Swissers ever since that fatal and final overthrow which they gave to the Duke of Burgundy at Nancy in Lorraine, have worn their party coloured doublets, breeches, and cod pieces, drawn out with huge puffs of Taffeta, or Linen, and their stockings (like the knaves of our Cards) party coloured, of red and yellow or other colours. I remember at the taking in of the town of R●es in Cleveland, between Wesel & Embrick upon the river of Rhine, (I being there at the same time) when a part of the Swiss quarter, being before the town, was by accident burned, I demanded of a Swiss Captain the reason of their so much affecting colours above other nations: he told me the occasion was honourable, which was this: At what time the Duke of Burgundy received his overthrow, and the Swisses recovering their liberty, he entered the field in all the state and pomp he could possible devise, he brought with him all his Plate and jewels, all his Tents were of silk, of several colours, which the battle being ended, being torn all to pieces by the Swiss soldiers, of a part of one colour they made them doublets, of the rest of other colours breeches● stockings, and caps, returning home in that habit; so ever since in remembrance of that famous victory by them achieved, and their liberty recovered, even to this day they go still in their party-colours. Let me not forget to tell you the occasion of this mortal war; it was only as Guicciardine tells us, but for the toll of a load of calf's skins coming over a bridge, which toll the Duke claimed as his right, and the Swisses theirs. But this by the way.  
I have much wondered why our English above other nations should so much dote upon new fashions, but more I wonder at our want of wit, that we cannot invent them ourselves, but when one is grown sta●e run presently over into France, to seek a new, making that noble and flourishing Kingdom the magazine of our fooleries: and for this purpose many of our Tailors lie leger there, and Ladies post over their gentlemen Ushers, to accoutre them and themselves as you see. Hence came your slashed doublets (as if the wearers were cut out to be carbonadoed upon the coals) and your half shirts, pickadillies (now out of request) your long breeches, narrow towards the knees, like a pair of Smith's bellowes; the spangled Garters pendant to the shoe, your perfumed perukes or periwigs, to show us that lost hai●e may be had again for money; with a thousand such fooleries, unknown to our manly forefathers.  
It was a saying of that noble Roman Cato, Cui corporis summa cura, ei virtutis maxima incuria; and most true it is, since on the contrary we daily find by experience, our greatest Scholars and Statists to offend on the contrary part, being careless, and sometime slovenly in their apparel, that many times (their thoughts being taken up with studious and profound meditations) they forget to button or to truss themselves, they love their old clothes better than new, they care not for curious setting their ruff, wearing cuffs, etc.  
Erasmus in Epistolis I remember reporteth of Sir Thomas Moor, that à puer● in vestitu semper fuit negligentissimus; and I believe it to be most true that God hath said by the mouth of his Prophet, That he will visit, or send his plague among such as are clothed with strange apparel.   

Of Friendship and Acquaintance.  
I Have ever found the most solid and durable friendship to have been among equals, equals in age, manners, estates, and professions, that with inferiors is subject to many inconveniences, as lavish & needless expending, lending, importunity of entreaty, and sometimes discredit. On the contrary, that with superiors (which I cannot properly call friendship) but raiseth or depresseth a man in valuation high or low, as they please themselves; and this friendship is but a kind of subjection or slavery. As he is your friend, a great man inviteth you to dinner to his table, the sweetness of that favour and kindness is made distasteful by the awe of his greatness, in his presence not to be covered, to ●it down, and to be placed where and under whom he pleaseth, to be tongue-tied all the while, though you be able to speak more to the purpose than himself and all his company; while you whisper in a waiter's ear for any thing that you want, you must endure to be carv●d unto, many times of the first, worst, or rawest of the meat; sometime you have a piece preferred unto you from his own trencher, but then imagine his belly is full, or he cannot for some other reason ea●e it himself; so that for true and free content you were better seek your dinner with some honest companion in Pie-corner. Beside, they love you should have a kind of dependency of them, that they might make use of you at their pleasure, if you be well qualified, rewarding you with promises & overtures of great matters of future hope, in the mean time you must live only by countenance, & shift for yourself. In a word, to trust to this superlative Friendship● is but as an earthen pot, to join yourself to one of brass, who under a colour of assisting you in the stream, will crack your sides one way or other. And it is one thing to be necessitous and stand in need of great ones friendship, and another out of your election to apply yourself to such whereof I only speak.  
So that the first point of discretion in the choice of a friend, is to know whether he be real or superficial, whether he aimeth at his own ends, or tendereth and is willing to advance your good. Indeed Poverty and Necessity (according to Saint Hierome) be touchstones for the trial of real Friendship. Ob hoc unicum (saith he) amanda est paupertas, ut a quibus ameris intelligas. Yet according to Seneca, not the truest and the best, Amor virtutis est morum similitudo: the love of Virtue, and likeness of Manners, begetteth amongst men the most solid and durable Friendship.  
Sometimes there is a sympathy in Nature, whereby one man affecteth the friendship and acquaintance of another, whom before he never saw in his life, yea & it may be whom he never saw at all: as a Duchess of Burgundy fell in love with a Nobleman whom she only heard two strangers commend for his person and rare qualities, walking on the other side of a River, near to her Court.  
The common and ordinary friendship of the world is measured by the benefit that one man reaps by another, according to Ovid.  
Turpe quidem dictu sed si modò vera fatemur  
Vulgus amicitias utilitate probat:  
Sed vix invenias multis in millibus unum.  
Virtutis pretio qui putat esse sui.  
And this Friendship for the most part lives and expires with men's lives and their Fortunes, and indeed merits not the name of friendship. I confess myself to have found more friendship at a stranger's hand whom I never in my life saw before, yea, and in foreign parts beyond the seas, then among the most of my nearest kindred and old acquaintance here in England, who have professed much towards me in empty promises.  
The ordinary friendship of our times is but mere acquaintance, whose utmost bound and extent is, in the Country entertainment for you and your horse a night or two; in the City, an old acquaintance meets you, and with admiration, Good Lord (saith he) are you alive yet! when he sees him, and speaks to him; then at the next Tavern gives you a pint or a quart of wine: at the Court, you are shown the King or the Queen at dinner. So that if among one hundred of your acquaintance, yea five hundred, you meet with two or three faithful friends, think yourself happy, such is the world in our cunning age.  
You may also be much deceived by overweening, taking those for friends which indeed are not; such friendship you ordinarily meet with over a cup of wine in a Tavern, where they will call you brother, and promise you all kindness by giving you their hands, and the next morning (when the grosser parts of the wine are turned to melancholic dregs) as is usual with the Dutchmen, they look on you like Lions, and never were the men.  
The vows of such vanish into air, to the often loss of your labour in visiting, soliciting, and attending them at their houses or chambers. Sometimes you shall be so injuriously dealt withal, as by believing their promises, you shall in hope take tedious journeys, to London, the Court, and other places, and when you have done all, you shall only find your horse tired, your pur●e emptied, and yourself in your expectation merely abused. So I wish thee whosoever thou art, to have as little to do with these transcendent great ones on the one side, as the useless inferiors and va●ltneants on the other.  
I have often considered with my sel●e, whether a man were the better or the worse for multitude of acquaintance; I concluded generally the worse, considering the most are of no use u●to us, casting into the account the expense of money, loss of time, and neglect of business.  
The best acquaintance is with such as you may better yourself by, any way, especially in knowledge by discourse and conference, (which was the ancient course of learning, according to Euripides, 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, Converse was the mother of Arts) either with general Scholars, Travellers, such as are skilled in the tongues, and in mechanical Arts, for by conversing with such you shall husband your time to the best, and take the shortest cut to knowledged beside, the keeping of such company getteth you the reputation of being understanding and learned as they are, though yet a puisne and a novice in their studies and professions.  
The best way to preserve a got friend, is thankfully to acknowledge the benefit you have received from him.  
To endeavour all you can to requi●e his curte●ie some way or other.  
To use him tenderly, and not oft, and then but in cases of necessity, when (as a good sword) you shall see what mettle he is made of.  
To give him no occasion by your ill carriage or unthriftiness to think ill of you.  
To go on in an honest way and calling, that he may think his courtesies well bestowed, and be the readier to assis● and further you; for commonly friends accumulate one good turn upon another, especially where they have found the former to have been seasonably and profitably bestowed.   

Of Parents and Children.  
ALL Parents are naturally indulgent to their children, especially while they are young; yet the height of their affection, or coldness of love towards them, appeareth not until they are of riper years, at what time they do them equal wrong either in giving them the rain of liberty and spending, or being over harsh, unnatural, and hard hearted over them. I have known excellent spirits, and many noble wits lost and undone either way.  
Some Mothers when their children are young are so fond over them, ●s by no means they will endure them out of their sight, much less send them abroad to school, or to be nurtured by others abroad, by whom they profit more than at home. Hence it comes to pass that so many great and rich men's sons and heirs, when they come toward men● estate, are so simple and easy to be wrought upon by crafty knaves and cheaters. Hence we see them often brought upon the Stage under the names of Sir Simple, john Daw, Abraham Ninnie, and the like, their st●dy being nothing else but the newest fashion, what Tavern to go to dinner to, or stare at every post to see where the newest play is that afternoon.  
I knew a great Lady that had only one son of some fourteen or fifteen yeared of age, whom indeed she would have brought up at school, but he must go when himself listed, and have two men to carry him thither, & to bring him home again to dinner & supper; he was once in my charge, and I remember not a bit of meat would down with him without sauce, which must be extraordinary too, as the juice of limmons with sugar and rose water. Sometime if it were a dainty fowl, as Patric●, Grace Plover, or the like, he must have wine mixed with bread crumbs, and the juice of an Orange; Pepper he could not abide, for it bit him by the tongue: his breakfast was either a ca●dle, or a manchet spread with Almond butter. Being one day with his mother at dinner, she se●med to be overjoyed, in that her son fell to eating of beef, which she protested he never did before in his life, and now she verily believed he would prove a soldier; indeed he proved very valiant after, for he kicks his mother, and told her he was better descended then ever she was, so that it seems strong meats have strange effects. In earnest thi● young gentleman was the only one whom I ever knew to prove towardly and good, after such a motherly education. Indeed as I said he was sometimes my scholar, and at this day is as understanding, civil, discreet, and as thrifty a Gentleman, as is in the west part of England.  
Some agaíne in the Universities maintain their sons at such an height, that there in stead of studying the seven liberal Sciences, they study seven couple of hounds: yet I must needs say, they there grow perfect in the Spanish, French, and the Dutch, that is, Sack, Claret, and Rhenish, while poor Scholars make their Exercises; and some of these now & then (unknown to their friends) clap up a match with some sempster, chambermaid, or tradesman's daughter: that news is carried to their fathers, how their sons have profi●ed so well in the University, that they have gotten more in an hour, than they know what to do withal all their lives after.  
Hence being men, they become unserviceable both for the Church and State, and being no Scholars, they hate learning in others: whereupon when in learned company they can say little, they break jests upon others; or which is the more generous and commendable, if it be at a Tavern and upon a spending occasion, they will numerando Symbolum officium sarcire, as Erasmus saith, make amends by paying a good part of the reckoning, and being no scholars, show their loves to scholars.  
On the other side, there are some Fathers so unnatural and harsh towards their children, that they are not only careless in giving them any education at all, but no means of maintenance to support their livelihood, turning them off young to shift in the wide world, seek their fortunes among strangers, and become servants to others: or if they stay at home, use them in that manner by blows and beating or ill & uncomfortable words, withdrawing timely help for their preferments, that all their lives after they loathe their father's house, and the very sight of the place where they were bred and borne.  
I knew a very rich and able man in Norfolk, children no means at all to live upon, (they being at man's estate, and very civil and honest Gentlemen) save the windfalls of trees in his woods, and to make their best by selling them, but no winds stirring, they were fain to help themselves by digging the roots lose within the earth, then covering them again with turfs, that the least wind in a manner would lay them along: and these shifts do● merciless fathers put their children unto, who though by nature towardly, ingenious, and no way viciously given, are oftentimes through poverty and want wrested from the bent and that natural and inbred honesty of mind, to do things base and unbeseeming: whereupon Mantua● wisely complaineth of poverty, s●ying, O mala paupe●tas vitij scelerisque m●nis●ra. I ●●ve known some, whom their father's ha●●ng s●nt to the Universities or the Inns of court, have le●t their houses and cour●e o● studies for want of maintenance, making mo●●y o● books, bedding, 〈…〉 as they had to 〈◊〉 else where, hence ●hey have ●ot bee●e able to ●●epe company with the better sort, they are undervalved all their lives after, whatsoever their good parts are, they are constrained to walk on foot, take up their lodging in base Alehouses, be hail fellow with every Tinker by every fire side: many times driven by necessity, they borrow of their kindred, or father's tenants, lie at their houses: sometimes for debt or despair they are fain to leave the Land, and seek means in foreign countries, either by turning Soldiers or Seminaries; sometimes not going so far they take purses about home, ending their miserable days at the gallows, where they cry out against their Parents (Fathers especially) hardness, and carelessness of them, in neither giving them maintenance, or settling them in some course wherein they might have lived and proved honest men, and good members in the Commonwealth.  
Neither must Parents have all the share in their children's undoing, since I know (though many are hard enough) they all would have their children to do well, and the most are careful enough to bring them up in all virtuous education: yet many times their children are refractory, and averse to all goodness out of an ill temperature of the mind by nature, and prove so notoriously evil, that nothing can reduce them to civility and honesty: Such a one was Troilo Savello of late years in Rome, descended of noble and honest Parents, being their only child, and hope of their house, who by that time he was sixteen years of age; joining himself to the Banditi, or outlawd thiefs and robbers, became the arrentest villain one of them that ever Italy bred, and before those years his mother laid him up in prison, being glad to keep him alive there; but he breaking out, and falling to murdering, robbing, and acting all manner of mischief, was afterward beheaded. If I mistake not, there is the story of his life translated out of Italian into English by Sir Toby Matthew. I have often seen and read it over in Dutch: but this by the way.  
Sometimes among Children the Parents have two hopeful, and the third void of all grace: sometimes all good, saving the eldest.  
I remember when I was a Schoolboy in London, Tarlton acted a third son's part, such a one as I now speak of: His father being a very rich man, and lying upon his deathbed, called his three sons about him, who with tears, and on their knees craved his blessing, and to the eldest son, said he, you are mine heir, and my land must descend upon you, and I pray God bless you with it: The eldest son replied, Father I trust in God you shall yet live to enjoy it yourself. To the second son, (said ●e) you are a scholar, and what profession soever you take upon you, out of my land I allow you threescore pounds a year towards your maintenance, and three hundred pounds to buy you books, as his brother, he weeping answered, I trust father you shall live to enjoy your money yourself, I desire it not, etc. To the third, which was Tarlton, (who came like a rogue in a foul shirt without a a band, and in a blue coat with one ●leeve, his stockings out at the heels, and his head full of straw and feathers) as for you sirrah, quoth he) you know how often I have fetched you out of Newgate and Bridewell, you have been an ungracious villain, I have nothing to bequeath to you but the gallows and a rope: Tarlton weeping and sobbing upon his knees (as his brothers) said, O Father, I do not desire it, I trust i● God you shall live to enjoy it yourself. There are many such sons of honest and careful parents in England at this day.  
I have also known many children to have proved and become honest and religious through the loathing of the parents vices and lewdness of behaviour; as if they have been addicted to drunkenness, the child would never abide it; or if to swearing, their son was free from that vice; yea many times children have proved their parents best advisers, and reclaimers from their vices.  
I never knew any child thrive in the world that was rebellious against father or mother, by cursing them, abusing them, scorning them, as many do that come to preferment and high place, from a poor parentage and a mean beginning, bu● the judgement o● God hath fallen heavy upo● them at one time or other Solomon saith, valleys meaning, they shall be hanged, & left fo● Ravens, and other fowls to feed upon.  
I have also known very Religious, and honest parents withal, of very great ability, who have had but only one son in the world, heir not only to their own inheritance, but also to brothers, & other of the kin, to whom they have given allowance according to his own desire, as his horse to ride on whither it pleased him, money to spend among gentlemen, to stay at home, or go whither and when he listed: yet all this, and all the care they could take, could not keep him at home, but like a vagabond to wander up and down the country with common Rogues and Gipsies, till at the last he came to the gallows: I have known two of this humour, being the son's o● v●ry rich and able men, my loving friends.  
From sons I come to daughters, of whom I have known many proper young gentlewomen, daughters to rich and miserable clowns, who to save their money for portions, and servants wages, keep them at home unmarried, making drudges of them to do all manner of work about the house, till growing stale maids, they bestow themselves on their father's horse-keepers, serving-men, many times on tailors that come to work at their houses, & so are oftentimes undone for ever.  
That among these extremes, we may come to a mediocrity. Let both the Parent and the Child listen to, and remember the short (but pithy) advice of St. Paul in their reciprocal duty: Children obey your Parents: Parents provoke not your Children. I never knew a race to thrive and prosper, but where there was a firm and mutual love of one toward the other; in the child a true filial, and fearful to offend: in the father that ●ame 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 or natural affection, descending and applying itself without bitterness, to the disposition of weak and childish age.  
Likewise between brother and sister, and this is preserved and cherished by a moderate and wise indulgence of the Parents, as if ought be amiss, by familiar admonition, teaching, gently rebuking, discoursing with them, as (with strangers) of years and understanding, and growing to men and women's estate, to supply their wants, keeping them neat, and (with the best of their rank) fashionable in apparel, which addeth spirit unto them, maketh them to think well of themselves, and teacheth them to make good choice of their company & acquaintance; lastly, 〈◊〉 maketh them in all places t● be respected, and their friends commended. It is also fitting, that a father, when ●is ●onne grow ˢ ne'er man, not only to supply his corporal necessity's, but also to allow him money in his purse to keep company with his equals, and sometimes to lay out upon a good bargain, which unexpectedly he may meet withal, hereby he will learn to love and keep his money, lay it out to the best advantage to keep and maintain his credit, he shall be known, and get reputation in the world, he will become more obsequious to his Parents and friends; when those penniless (and long of their Parents) poor ones, are a disgrace to their Parents, the object of pity to their friends, and a scorn to every golden ass, and their enemies, and which is most lamentable, are sometimes driven to be beholding to these. There was a miserable slave not long since, that had kept three or fourscore load of Hay two or three years, hoping it would be still dearer, when it was at five pounds and ten shillings the load, but presently it falling to forty and thirty shillings, went into his barn, takes a stool to stand on, and throwing a rope over a beam, kicks down the stool, and so hangs: his son being threshing on the other side of the wall, hearing the stool fall, runs in, and seeing his father hanging, takes his knife, and cuts him down, rubs him, and recovers him: his son a week after coming for his week's wages for threshing, (for his father allowed him nothing but what he dear earned) he abated him two pence, which the son told him was wanting; his father answered, the rope which he cut cost him so much, and he should pay for it: the son departing heavily, told his father, if he would forgive him that two pence, he should not want a new rope at any time; withal, wished for his own sake he might not find him at the like business again.  
It is also worthy the observation, that when God would destroy and root out a wicked family, or generation from the face of the earth, he suffers enmity and discord to reign and divide a kindred in their affections one towards another: The father hates the child, the Child the father: the sister cannot abide her brother, the brother speaks ill of the sister, purloining one from the other: they seldom or never see or visit in kindly manner one another: in sickness one will not relieve or comfort one another; nay, many times grudge a night's lodging in a word, no more regard of blood or alliance amongst them, than among swine. This I have often observed, and when of such a family, in few years not one of the name hath been left.   

Of Clowns and rude behaviour.  
SCaliger reportethth, 
Angli rustici & Voscones sunt omnium in humanisimi.  that our English Country husbandmen, and Gascoignes, to be of all other the most clownish and uncivil, wherein he is much deceived; for the Boors of High and Low Germany are ten times worse, as well in their Education, Manners, and Civility, in respect of whom, ours in the general, are most gentile, humane, and courteous: Some we have I confess merely terrae filii, Mushrooms in a night, shot up and nourished by the dung of the earth, that have neither religion, wit, or moderation, professed enemies to understanding, learning, civility, and all manner of gentility, by nature commonly so base and miserable, that they could find in their hearts they had come into the world like Calves, with skins of hair, that they might never have gone to a Drapers for cloth; or like Pan, to have got feet of horn, they could have kept their money from the shoemaker: like that Emblematical Sow, (their noses are ever rooting in the earth) with Vlterius over her back. They commonly love the Church so well, that they had rather spend ten pounds in Suit, than allow him one tithe pig out of nine: Erra Pater, and this years' Almanac (if he can read) are the two only books he spends his time in, and if a shower of rain extraordinarily happens in Hay-time, or harvest, he grumbles against God, beats his maids, and looks currishly upon any that speaks to him.  
Of all men in the World he cannot endure Lawyers, but evermore he is barking against them, as dogs do at Tinkers; not because they stop holes in their dames kettles, but because they make their budgets of their skins: If a gentleman or noble man happen to ride (in hawking time) over his grounds, he bannes and curses him and his followers to the pit of hell: for between your Clown and Gentleman there is ever an Antipathy. If I should tell you how the late Prince of Orange, Grave Maurice hath been answered amongst his Dutch Boors, as he passed through the Country, you would say our Country of England was a School of Civility in regard of those Countries.  
Charles the fifth, that religious and puissant Emperor, when by fortune of war, he was pursued and chased by the Duke of Saxony, and the Landgrave of Hesse, and in a very dark and rainy night having lo●t his way among the Heaths and Woods, having only two or three in his company, fortuned to come to a Boor's house, that stood alone under a woods side, & knocking desired entertainment, but to sit up by the fire till it were day; the Boor looking out at his window, (as Boars thrust their heads of the Frank) said, he and his wife were in bed, and he was some Skellum, or rogue, that would be out so late, if he would, to use his own words, Met s●i● verkens slaepen, rest him with his Pigs in an out house he might, in he should not come. The Emperor then desired of him to know what time of night it was; the Boor told him all by twee heurens, near two of clock in the morning; the Emperor asked him how he knew? the clown replied, ●ck he●t n● ghepist, he had but newly made water: these entertainments are common amongst them, yea, were he the greatest Prince of the Empire. I once lived in a town, where scarce a gentleman, or any of civil carriage lived, and having found but ill●requitall for good deserts, I caused this to be written over the porch of their free-school door, Subi dura a rudibus: It is Palindrome, the letters making the same again backwards. To know an absolute Clown, observe these his conditions; he had rather be spreading of dung than go to the leanest sermon in the shire; he murmurs at all payments and levies, especially the money to be collected for the maintenance of his Majesty's navy royal; If he fortune to be Churchwarden of his Parish, at every brief gathering in the Church he reserves a groat or six pence to himself; if he do affect to follow the fashion in his clothes, it is long of his wife, some gentleman's daughter, who was matched unto him for his wealth; and being fine, he takes place above her, & all women at the table: salute him on the way, he will give you never a word; his hands are commonly unwashed, and his doublet unbuttoned, but never trussed: his ordinary discourse is of his last years hay, which he hopes will give fix pounds the load in Smithfield, and of the rate of Swine in R●mford market; all his jests consist in rude actions with the hand or foot: his speech is Lincolnshire about Wrangle and Freestone: if he be westward, about Taunton, and ten miles beyond, & though the most of them wear russet, and have their high shoes well nailed, yet they are often too hard for velvet and satin, in law tricks and quiddities, and commonly hold their own the longest, great men that hold them hard, and keep them under, have them as they list; yield unto one of them, or stand to his mercy, you shall find no Tyrant more imperious and cruel: most true is that old verse: 
Rustica gens, est optima flens, & pessima ride●s.    

Of Travail.  
THe true taste of our lives sweetness is in travail upon the way, at home, or abroad in other Countries; for not only it affordeth change of air, which is very availefull to health, but variety of objects and remarkable occasions to entertain our thoughts, beside choice of acquaintance with able and excellent men in all faculties, and of all nations, and perhaps some such, as you would ever after think your labour and expense of money well bestowed, if you had but only passed the sea for their acquaintance: such an one I met withal, travailing in a very rainy evening, through a moody part of Westphalia, where I had lost my way, and it grew near night, and in latin demanding of him the way toward Oldenburg, and how I had lost my way; using the word deviavi hic, answered, humanum est errare; to be short, he would not suffer me to pass any further, but carried me home to his own house, which was almost half a mile off, where I never found better entertainment, or had more friendlier respect in all my life.  
The first thing in any good Town where ever I came, so soon as I had made choice of mine Inn and lodging, was of my acquaintance, for in all places you sh●ll meet with very civil and courteous people, evermore of the better sort, (in Italy especially) who will show you all respect and kindness, but without charge; you must never put them to any expense or charge, no not so much as to come to dinner to their houses, though you be solemnly invited; and on the contrary, look that nobody be chargeable to you: you shall have many times (as also here in England) as soon as you are alighted at your Inn, or Harbery, fellows that will insinuate themselves into your company and acquaintance, beginning either by commending your horse, or demanding how far you have come that day, or of what Country you are, and the like; and after perhaps will offer their service to show you the Town, to bring you acquainted with some famous man there living, or carry you ad calidas, & callidas, solis filias, (as Lipsius calleth them) to t●e handsomest wenches about the town. Sed aures obtura, ad has Syrenum cantiunculas, rather be alone purusing some good book in your chamber, or walk by yourself.  
You shall in travail never lose aught by silence; many have paid dear for their lavish tongues in strange Countries, especially being far from home; and where they must not be allowed to be their own interpreters, especially in matter of Religion & State; when you shall find it safer and better to talk of the great Turk, than the Pope.  
Let your observations be of such things whereby you may profit yourself or your Country, yourself by procuring & winning the acquaintance of the famous men in Science or Art, for the bettering of your understanding, and skill in whatsoever you pretend unto; if you study Physic, you shall have in Paris, and other places of France, the most learned and able Physicians of the world: if you would be a Civilian, Bononia, and other Cities of Italy will afford you the rarest men in that way; if you delight in painting, and the use of your pencil, the Netherlands; every where will afford you rare Masters, if in other Mechanical Arts, the higher Germany, which Bodine calleth hominum officinam, for the variety of Ar●ists there, and therein Spires, Shasbourge, Norenburge, and many other famous Cities, will furnish you with skilful men abundantly.  
I have observed, as I have gone along those Countries, many excellent points of good husbandry in fields & gardens, which we here in England have not been acquainted withal; as in manuring their land so at one time, that it shall bear a great crop seven or ten years together; their artificial Ploughs, that shall turn up in a day as much as two of ours; their neat and handsome stacking of their corn abroad to stand dry all the Winter; their many devices for draining of grounds, casting of Moats, and Town ditches; many excellent forms of grafting, adulterating Plants & flowers, with infinite such devices.  
Apparel abroad is much dearer than here in England, especially cloth; Stuffs are cheap, and ordinary in the Netherlands, so are velvets and silks about Naples, and other parts of Italy, and commonly worn of tradsemens' wives and daughters.  
Boots & shoes are very dear every where, especially in France; for leather is there very scarce; so that if I had but the Monopoly of carrying old shoes (newly mended) and Mastiff whelps into France, I should think to live as well and as happily, as Ma●ter Major of Quinborrow. For diet I bought what I liked, and learned one thing, not usual with us in England, (save in Cook's shops) that is, to know the price of meat before you eat it: If our young gallants would observe this rule in costly Taver●s, (who only call for a bill at the end of dinner) they would have money many times when they want it; but they esteem it a disgrace better befitting Carriers and Aquivitae men, than gentlemen of rank: hence it cometh to pass they pay eight shillings for a Capon, as my L. of N. gentleman did once at Greenwich, another a mark or fourteen shillings for a pair of soles, I having often bought as good at Ben●ington in Holland for threepences. And as I would not have you to be familiar with every one; so it is good, so to retire yourself, as you scorned to eat or drink in any other company; for note, you cannot take up your chamber, and call for your meat thither, but commonly an ordinary is kept, where all the guests sit down together, of what country or condition it makes no matter, if they be merry, you must be so to, or at least fain yourself to be; if they drink to you, you must pledge them, (for their draughts are but sippings, not carousing whole pints and quarts, as among our tossepots in England) so shall you be beloved and made welcome amongst them, otherwise they will suspect you to be a spy from the enemy, or to scorn their company, whereby you come into danger of being quarrelled withal, suddenly stabbed among the Dutch with a knife, in Italy to be poisoned, etc.  
Travail (like Physic upon several complexions) works diversely, with a stayed and mature judgement it doth best, such return much bettered by it: those who are sent young and childish (whom foolish fathers and mothers would have thought to be rare & ripe witted, become the worse by it, for wanting judgement to understand the true use of travail, to know with whom to converse, and what to observe, but only to follow and to wear a love-locke on the left shoulder, return home as wise as the Ass, who undertaking to travail into far Countries, and to acquaint himself with strange beasts abroad, at the last returning home, he asked the Fox how he liked him since he undertook his journey? the Fox replied, & told him plainly, he saw no difference in him, but that his Main and his Tail were grown longer: if they chance to go into the Netherlands, and perhaps get to be gentleman of a company but of three weeks standing; then at their return among their companions, they must be styled by the name of Captain, they must stand upon that air title, and mere nothing, called Reputation, undertake every quarrel and challenge, or become seconds to those that will: It is a great want of discretion, beside very dangerous, to tell or show your money openly in strange places where you are unknown, or to travail upon the way extraordinary rich in you clothes; hereby many have been betrayed and lost their lives, as a gentleman, and an acquaintance of mine, Master W.T. was pistold by his guide in the forest of Ardenna, because riding in a suit laid thick with gold lace, he was supposed to have had store of crowns.  
Erasmus I remember in his Epistles, tells us how narrowly he scaped his throa●e cutting one night in an Inn, where he drew store of money out of his velvet pouch, (which commonly he wore at his girdle) that he was fain to rise in his shirt, with another that lay in the same chamber, to barricado the door with a form and some stools, to keep his host out, who was an arrant thief.  
Be as thrifty as possible you can, as well in your apparel as diet; for you shall many times be ●ard beset for money, and if you can otherwise avoid it, go seldom upon credit, which is not gentlemanlike abroad, but much more base in England, where for the most part, hosts and hostesses are far more unconscionable than they are there: for spend five pounds at a sitting, you shall not be misreckoned a penny, and they expect as just dealing from you; here you shall be shomefully wronged, except you very narrowly look to your layings out, beside meet with ill pennyworths, paying (as good many times) as forty in the hundred for the use of your credit.  
I could wish every young gentleman before he travails into foreign parts, non esse Domi peregrini, because here are many rarities in England, and our coast towns are worthy the view and the knowing, if it were but only to satisfy strangers, who are many times inquisitive of the state of England; yea, and many times know it better than most of our home-born gentlemen: herein Sir Robert Car of Sleford in Lincolnshire, a noble gentleman, and my worthy friend was much to be commended.   

A religious honest man.  
I Never knew any man of sound judgement, and fit for employment, either in Church or Commonwealth, but he endeavoured to be religious: for Virtutem vel optimarum actionum Basis Religio; and there are many, who though they make no outward show thereof, by those actions and gestures which may also be common to Hypocrites, yet the bias of the life of an honest man would ever lean (for doing and discourse) to a serious service of God; hence such men keep their Church together, with their families constantly, there carrying himself with the greatest reverence and humility.  
You shall know a religious honest man by humility, charity, or love of hospitality; hence he is discreet in his discourse, affable, pleasant, and peaceable, among his neighbours loving, and beloved.  
He backbiteth and traduceth none, meddleth not with matters and affairs of s●ate; well knowing (like those builders of the tower of BABEL) that a rash affection of things too high, bringeth discord and confusion; and if any controversy shall arise among his neighbours, he commonly hath compounded the strife ●re the Layer can finger his ●ee.  
His tithes he payeth cheerfully, and with the most; well knowing that God by Ma●achy hath promised a blessing by the opening of the windows of Heaven upon such as pay their tithes truly, and with alacrity.  
He is versed and very ready in the holy Scriptures, & their Orthodoxal exposition, never wresting, or misapplying them (as Sectaries do) to serve their purposes, & suit with their fantastical, or wilful opinions.  
As Mahomet, and his followers, affirmed that place of St. john, 
john 14.  where our Saviour saithe I will send you a comforter, to be meant of himself; or in that place something to be written of Mahomet, which the Christians have scraped or blotted out.  
So not long since a false Prophet affirmed that himselve was one of those two witnesses St. john speaks of, in the 11 of the ●●●elatio●.  
The like examples may be produced from David George, Knipperdoling, Hacket, and others, which we pass.  
Again, the moderate religious man forbears with open mouth to rail against the Pope, but speaks of him in a modest reverence, as of a great Bishop, and a temporal Prince.  
He is also to his power a benefactor to poor scholars, and though not learned himself, he is a prompter of learning. So was Wickham Bishop of Winc●ester, who being no great Scholar himself, said, to make amends, he would make scholars, and soo●e after he founded Winchester school, and New College in Oxford.  
He loveth unity, & praiseth it as well in Church or Commonwealth, as his ow●e parish and family; hence is he opposite ex dia●etr●, to separatists, and schismatics, who, since they fall in my way, let me tell you what out of my own experience I have known, & found by them, having remained a good time at Leiden in Holland, and other places where they have their congregations and convintecles: There are about thirty two several sects, among some whereof are called Hui●copers, other huish ver coopers, 1. house buyers, and house sellers, and such enmity there is among them, that the pride of their heads, or ringleaders, will never an unity one with another.  
Now why our sectaries should single out themselves aftes this manner, I confess I know not, perhaps, not without the divine providence, and for that very same reason, joseph Acosta giveth of beasts and birds of prey, whom God (as pernicious and hurtful to mankind) hath set at odds and at enmity one with the other● for if they should accompany together in herds and flocks, they would overrun and devour a whole country: as among beasts: Lions, Bears, Wolves, Foxes, Badgers, Polecats, etc. And among birds, Eagles, Hawks; Kites● Ravens, Vultures, Buzzards, etc. When Nature for the behoof of man, hath set others which are most profitable unto him at unity among themselves, and to live peacefully one with the other: As Kine, Horses, Dear, Sheep, Goats, Coneys, etc. Of Birds, Pigeons, Geese, Ducks, Partridges, the most of the daintiest of Sea birds, with sundry others.  
I have heard some of their Sermons, and been present at their private ordinary discourse, & somewhat always seasoned the same, that savoured either of Pride or Malice, or both; especially against our Church, and the happy & well settled estate of the ●●me.  
We must make a difference between our stricter people in England, whom your prophaner sort call Precisian's, and these who are superintendants over a few buttonmakers and weavers at Amstelr●dam, for of ours we have many conformable to his Majesty's laws, and the Ceremonies of the Church, carrying themselves very honestly and conscionably, among which I reckon not the professed Puritan, of whom I know many, who gladly take that name and profession upon them, being tradesmen in Cities & market towns, only to get custom to their shops, and working themselves into the opinion of the world to be honest, Religious, and upright dealing men; they procure to themselves many salutation; (like the pharisees) in the market place, and hence they become the prime men at feasts and meetings, and are trusted with the estates and education of men's children at the death of the Parents, out of the opinion of their zeal and honesty, whereby they become marvellous rich, and by consequent so proud, that (as St. Augustine saith of the Donatists) ne nostri ●uiquam dicant Ave, they will not bid a conformist good morrow, or good even, and sitting in their fur or velvet faced gowns, with their neat set double ruffs, they tax● (with Augustus') all the world. But some of these men have not many years since reformed● themselves.  
There is yet another sort amongst us worse than these; who like double faced janus, one way look to their own Parish Church, and the other eastward towards St. Peter's in Rome; these indeed are filii hu●us seculi, and here only have thei● reward; making Religion only as a cloak, or w●●t coat to be worn both sides alike: Some profess themselves Roman Catholics, that their families might keep Lent, all the Saints Eves, Ember, and all other fasting-dais, whereby their Masters save in their victuals their whole years' wages: another while they are Protestants, and will monthly visit the Church, to avoid the penalty of the Law, or to insinuate themselves into some gainful employment or other in the Commonwealth; these be those lukewarm Laodicaeans whom God cannot digest, 
Rev. 3. ●6●  and whom I have known bo●h Protestan● & Papists alike to have discarded. There I remember is a Country, whether Utopia or no, where those who side equally with contrary factions, wear party coloured coats and stockings. Besides, they are great rackers of their Tenants; backward and resty in all levies and payments for the common good; seldom charitable to the poor, and the worst payers of their ●ythes and duties to the Church and Minister that may be.   

Of Discretion.  
THe old Lord Burleigh, sometime Treasurer of England, coming to Cambridg● with Queen Elizabeth, when he was led into the public schools, and had much commended their convenience, beauty, and greatness, they had sometime received from their founder, Humphrey the good Duke of Gloucester; yea marry, said he, but I find one school wanting in our Universities, and that is the school of Discretion's in what sense he meant it I know not, bu● most true it is, that though Discretion be no●e of the liberal Sciences, it is an Art that gives all other their value and estimation, and without which (as a Ship without an helm, an Horse without a bridle, or a blind man without a guide.) Men do they know nor what, go they know not whither, and instead of steering a right course run upon the rocks of their irrecoverable ruin.  
Discretion is so called of Discerno● which properly is to sever or part one thing from another, as to divide or sift the flower from the bran, silver from the lead, a quintessence from Elementary parts. So that Metaphorically it is applied to our judgements in severing or dividing virtue from vice, that which is honest, from that which is profitable, the necessary from the superfluous, a friend from a foe etc. and indeed it is the highest pitch of understanding and judgement, which the most men seem to have, but fall shorr off, yea in their weightest actions: in which our actions of it claimeth so great an interest, that without discretion the whole course of our lives is nothing else but folly, or rashness, as I found well expressed in this Distich which I found engraven upon the hest of a Learned Lady's knife in Brabant: 
Omnia si repetas humanae tempora vitae,  
Vel malè, vel temerè, vel ni●il egit homo.   
Whence cometh it to pass, that so many men undo themselves and their posterity for ever, by selling and making away such fair estates left them by their friends, but lack of Discretion, their judgements being so corrupted, that they think they shall never want, their children will otherwise be provided for; while they wear the best clothes they shall be respected, beloved of Ladies, saluted by Citizens, congeed by Courtiers, and the like: now the salt of Discretion should first have seasoned his brains in this or the like way; while walking in his garden in the Country, or under a solitary wood side, he should have thought with himself, God hath blessed me with with a fai●e estate: and as Henry the fourth said to his son the Prince; Getting is a chance, but keeping is a wit: and what a difference of happiness is there in enjoying and coming freely to an estate left by friends, than in attaining to the same by continual labour of my body? hazarding my health in sitting up late, rising early, to endure heat, hunger, cold, and the like extremities; then to be only master of the same a very few years; yea sometime days; that most truly Martial as a principal happiness accounted, 
Res relicta, non parta labour.  
An estate left, and not by labour gained.   
Now if I part with this, let me believe, and assuredly say with the Philosopher, A privatione in habitum nulla est regressio, I may another day come by and view, saying with a sigh of me and mine, Fuimus Troes, This was ours once; how have I wronged you my poor Children? who will feed and entertain you, but you are like to wander up and down, and seek untimely death in the errors of your lives; and for myself, who will relieve me when all is gone? I would be loath to depend upon any, being of a generous and free spirit, and debere quibus nolis miserrimum. & these times are grown so cunning, & flinty hard, that necessitous men can hardly borrow five shillings o ᶠ their best friends and acquaintance. And how many great heirs have I known to have begged & died in Alehouses and barns, surfeiting of that abundance which hath been lief them? These & the like notions mature Discretion should have suggested, and been mistress of the Key, before the house had been parted withal.  
Out of the heat of thy youth, unknown to thy parents or friends, thou matchest thyself to some snout-fair young thing ●ot worth a gr●at, whereby thou art sure ever after to be dis-esteemed and undervalved, Discretion (hadst thou been acquainted with her) would have told thee, nil temerè, do nothing rashly, and how marriage (with ones calling and profession) is the greatest action he shall undertake in his whole life, and like a stratagem in war, in which he can err but once; and how beautiful soever she be, the Dutch women can tell you, Marks moreover, in stead of honourable (many times) or worshipful Kindred and alliance, you shall have on her side a needy kindred, always relying upon you by begging or borrowing; lastly, after the spring-time of her beauty, and your amorous desire is over, you begin to loathe her more than ever you loved her; hence proceeds your perpetual discontent, home bred quarrels, scoffs & jeering from the neighbours, a weary life to servants; and to conclude, a parting or divorcement between yourselves, which Discretion (had you been a scholar in her school) would have easily taught you to have prevented. Let these two examples, in stead of many other, show the inestimable value of Discretion in all our actions: I will now come to speak of Discretion we ought to have in speech and discourse.  
An ill tongue in the holy Scripture is compared to a two edged sword, bitter words to arrows, slanderous and malicious to the poison of Asps; and it is the instrument many times of life and death, as well to the soul as the body; wherefore the old Egyptians dedicated their Persian tree, whose leaves are like tongues, and the fruit or apples like hearts unto Isis, meaning hereby the tongue and heart agreeing together should be consecrated to God only, and his honour, and not in profaning or blaspheming his sanctified name, (usual even in these days among children in the streets) or slandering and lyingly traducing others behind their backs; wherefore we show our Discretion in nothing more than in our speech and discourse: and hence came the word, Loquere ut te videam, for a natural fool so long as he is silent, for aught we know may be the wisest man in the company; and a great wit by too much babbling, and suffering his tongue to run at random, oftentimes proves a more fool than he, speaking their pleasure of Princes, Statesmen, and Bishops, raising them higher or lower, as Dutchmen do their coin, to their own advantage; hence they crave pardon (being questioned) of their ears that heard them● and stand in awe even of strangers & waiters upon them: Homer at●ibutes it as a prime virtue in Ulysses, that his words were few, but to the purpose. I confess the Table, as with good dishes, so should be ●urnished with good discourse● for mirth at feasts and banquets hath ever been commended, and I deny not, but where men of several dispositions meet, something 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 may slip beyond the bounds of Discretion, and these impertinencies, and quicquid inter pocula liberius dictum fueret in mappa projiciatur cum micis, as Erasmus holdeth: sitting without more ado, having learned as much of Horace.  
— Ne fidos inter amic●s,  
Sit qui dicta foràs eliminet.  
And Plutarch in Symposiasis saith, it was a custom among the Lacedæmonians, that when they invited any kinsman or friend unto their houses, they with a finger would point to the door or porch and say, 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, No words must come from hence, which was the law of Ly●urgus; hence proceedeth it that in many places, as well in England, as the Low Countries, they have over their Tables a rose painted, and what is spoken under the Rose, must not be revealed; the reason is this; The Rose being sacred to Venus, whose amorous and stolen sports that they might never be revealed, her son Cupid would needs dedicate to Harpocrates the god of Silence● hence these (not in elegan) verses. 
Est Rosa flos veneris, cuius quo surta laterent,  
Harpocrati matris Dona dicavit amor.  
●nde rosam mensis, hospes suspendet amicis,  
Convivae ●t sub 〈◊〉 dictatacenda sciant.  And for the same reason ●erusa & Oblivo were dedicated to B●cchus, meaning what had been done or spoken freely among merry cups, should either have been quite forgotten, or very slightly punished.   

Of common ignorance.  
THe world hath taken so much upon trust from credulous and superstitious antiquity, that now adays it will hardly believe common experience: whereof I will produce some neither unpleasant, nor unprofitable examples.  
There are many that believe and affirm, that the Manna which is sold in the shops of our Apothecaries, to be of the same which fell from heaven, & wherewith the Israelites were fed forty years in the wilderness, which cannot so be by these reasons.  

1. That Manna in the wilderness was miraculous; this of ours natural, falling from the heaven in ●aire, clear, and hot days at certain seasons of the year, in Calabria, and upon mount Libanus.  
2. That Manna in the Wilderness was kept but only one day, excepting the Eve of the Sabbath, when it remained uncorrupt for two days together; ours in shops will abide a year & more sweet and good.  
3. That was a meat, ours a medicine to loosen the body, withal most excellent to purge choler, and ours so unfit to use for food, that if we eat much, and continually of it, our bowels will melt within us, and we dye forthwith.   
Now from that affinity & likeness it hath from the other: in some things it borroweth the same name; that is, the whiteness, the taste of an honey-like sweetness, and the place whence it cometh, that is the air.  
It is called in Hebrew Man, derived either from Mana to prepare, because it 〈◊〉 prepared by God himself, or else because when the Israelites saw it first fall, one said to the other, Man hu? What is this? Exodus 16. 16.  
Manna Thuris, or the Manna of Frankincense, as Pliny showeth, is like neither of these; but only the smaller and finer corns of Frankincense falling out in the shaking and tossing two and fro.  
If there be any (as there be many) that cannot away with an ordinary purgation, their stomaches taking offence thereat, let them take but two ounces and a half of Manna, and it will purge choler m●● easily and gently, and without any offence at all.  
The like error hath antiquity been possessed with, concerning the Bear, who is said to bring forth, instead of a proportioned whelp, a lump of flesh without form, which by often licking she bringeth to its right shape: which Ovid verily believed, when he saith, 
Nec catulns part● quem reddit ursa, recenti  
Sed malè viva caro est: lambendo matter in artus.  
Fingit & in formam, quantam capit ipsa reducit.  It is most false, for I have seen a Bear whelp newly littered, in all respects like unto the dam, in head back, sides, feet, etc. like unto other young creatures, it is true the Bear licks it; so doth the Cow her calf, the Mare her foal, and other creatures in like manner; but that by licking she gives it form and shape it is most untrue.  
Scaliger affirmeth as, much, saying in our Alps (meaning those about Piemount) the hunters caught a ●he Bear big with young, who being cut up, they found a whelp within her of perfect form and shape, etc.  
The Diamond (saith Pliny) never agreeth with the Loadstone, l. 37. c. 4. but are so far at enmity, each with either, that the Diamond will not suffer the Loadstone to draw any Iron unto it, and happily if it do, it will pluck and withdraw the same away unto itself, which is most untrue, as Garz●as ab Horto, and many other great Physicians & learned men have proved. And as true it is, that the Diamond can be broken by no means, but by the blood of a goat only, I know not whether or no there be several kinds of Diamonds, but I am sure, I have seen in the City of Antwerp the powder of a Diamond, and the afore-named Garzias affirmeth, with an Iron hammer it may be easily done, and himself hath seen it beaten into a fine powder.  
It is moreover as commonly believed as reported, that the Swan before her death singeth sweetly her own funeral song, which not only Poets and Painters ever since the time of AEschylas, but even the chief among Philosophers themselves have believed and published, as Plato, Aristotle, Chrysippus, Philostratus, Cicero, and Seneca: yet this hath proved a mere fable, so confessed by Pliny Athe●aus, and others, and confirmed by daily experience: see Bodin in Method hist. c. 4  
The vulgar ignorance and simplicity is in these days notably wrought upon by cunning Sectaries, pretending under a severe kind of carriage and show of religion, the cure of their souls, and by medicinal impostures for the cure of their bodies; of the former I have spoken of, the later I will now say something.  
For the first, true it is, they suffer themselves to be bitten of Serpents, especially Vipers, but cleared & rid of their poison for they take their Vipers in Winter, when they lie half dead and benumbed with cold, and with a fine or small pair of tongues take away certain little bladders about their teeth, wherein their poison lieth, which being gone, their bi●ing is never deadly after: others keep their Viper's lean and half hungerstarved, & then throw amongst them some hard dried flesh, which when they fall upon, their teeth stick so fast in the same, that at once they power out all their poison, and become harmless ever after; and of these they suffer themselves to be bitten, to the great admiration of the standers by; but if you happen to get a Viper fresh out of the field, and offer that to him to show his skill, he will rather be hanged than venture upon it; hereby their notorious cheating is discovered.  
The other will have nothing to do with Serpents, but only swalloweth down poison (or seemeth so to do) to utter his trade, or antidote to the people at as dear a rate as he can. These when they take poison, take before hand, in Summer time, Let●uce, well steeped and soaked in oil, but in winter the tripes, or fattest entrails of beasts; for by these meats they retund and abate the strength of the poison; the coldness of the Lettuce, and fatness of the oil an entrailes only availing hereunto● neither is this all, but returning to their lodging they drink good store of thick milk, and cast it up again; and if all cannot be brought upward, the milk digested, conveighes it the other way.  
But they having been many times deceived by Arsenic, which having tarried so long with some, till it eat out their guts, they have found out a new trick, which is, when they are upon their stage, they send a boy forthwith to the Apothicaries for Arsenic or Mercury, being brought he shows it to the multitude about him, with the Apothicaries' testimony that is right and good: all the people see it, what then? he presently conveighes into the cover of a box lid turned upward, upon which sticks Sugar, made into the form and colour of Arsenic, which Sugar he takes out, & puts into water or wine, drinks it off, falls down, and keeps his breath, that you would certainly say he were quite dead, but he remembers his treacle, takes it, and is raised to life, than he commends his Antidote and treacle to the skies. the people fetch it from him as fast as he can utter it, but if any afterward happen to use his treacle when they are poisoned indeed, it never does good, but they die without all question. I have spoken the more at large of these kind of people that our Magistrates in Cities and towns may have a care of seeing themselves and the people abused by such runagates, and artificial pick-pockets, but we are not much troubled with them here in England.   

Of quietness and health.  
WE do find by daily experience, that the Age of man very much declineth, and that men now, for the most part, are not half so strong & vigorous as they were in the memory of our fathers, as we may easily perceive by those arrows of a yard or an ell long, which hang by the walls in many places of the North and west part of England, which the owner's grandfather or great grandfather left behind him for a monument of his loyal affection to one of the Roses, under whose conduct he served an Archer; the shooting-Bu●s in Country Towns have lost much of their length since the beginning of Q. Elizabeth's reign. Who can wield that lance which Charles Brandon D. of Suffolk tilted withal, yet to be seen in the Tower? neither can so heavy arms be borne, as were not many years; our Pikes and Muskets are made far less, because our lesser bodies find them rather for burden than use: Now if we look into the cause and true reason hereof, we shall find first the world declining, and like a mother in her age, to bring forth but weak and short-lived children; neither is this all, but we living in the last age of the world, wherein all iniquity and vice doth abound, men shorten their lives by over-eating and drinking, ease and want of exercise, luxury and incontinence, Temperance and Continency being the main and only supporters of our health, as in comparable Fer●elius affirmeth: there are two things more (as these to our health) which conduce to our happiness in this world, which are, Liberty and tranquillity or quiet of mind; these I confess fall not to every man's share, most men living being involved in so many affairs: variety of cares and business which attend us in this our earthly pilgrimage, that this quiet of mind is as rare as Homer's Nepe●the; many men not out of necessity, but of selfe-wilfulnesse, vexing and disquieting themselves without cause or reason. As how many rich, and men of great estates be there in this Kingdom, of whose care of getting & purchasing there is no end; they never in all their lives (like the Ass that carried Venison, Pheasants, Capons, bottles of Wine, and other dainties upon his back) tasting the sweetness of what they had about them, but fed upon the Thorns and Thistles of Vexation, grief, and needless carefulness, to enrich some unthrifty son or kinsman; or scrape up thousands for some dainty thing troubled with the green sickness, who within a year or two is stolen and married by a Tailor or Ho●teler.  
Others again are by nature choleric, fretful, quarrelsome, and evermore enemies to their own rest, delighting to be medlars and brokers in other men's business, as Eels in troubled waters and mud. Some out of curiosity, or the search of some deep, and uncuoth invention, as firing ships under water, making traps for the monstrous Bear of Nova, Zemla etc. or secret in Nature, as ●etting the Loadstone and ●et at enmity about Iron and straws: Others draw misery and vexation as with cords unto them, through weakness of judgement, when they marry disadvan●agiou●ly to themselves either for estate, o● their own dispositions, I mean, when themselves being gentle, and addicted to peac●, m●tch with errant scolds; honest of life, meet with whores, and the like.  
So since we cannot make ourselves Master of this so sweet a benefit Tranquillity of mind, let us (which is in our own power) look unto o●r health, whereof the most men are careless and negligent. To the conservation whereof, let us first consider the quality of the air in that place where we live, which is not only an Element, but an Aliment; for by it, if it be pure and good, our spirits are clarified and quickened, our blood rarified, and our hearts re●omforted; for the whole body fareth the better for the goodness of a pure & sweet air: so that we find by experience, that men are more sprightly, lively, and merry in an upland perfumed, and fanned with the flower-sented air of Country, and of better complexions, than in close lanes and noisome allies about the City, where the air in such places is not good, but raw and cold: you may better it (especial●y in infectious & dangerous times) by burning of several sorts of sweet Wood, as Cypress, juniper, Bay, Rosemary, Pine, the Turpentine, and Rosin-tree: if it be too hot, open your windows, and place your bed toward the North, strewing the flower with rushes, waterlillies, Nenuphar, Lettuce, Endive, Sorrell, and ever and anon sprinkle cold water with a little vinegar of Roses● If any in Rome were troubled with Ulcers of the the Lungs, or fell into consumptions, Galen would presently send them to mount Tabian, a most sweet Air near unto Naples, where, through the dryness of ●he place, and drinking the milk of goats & kine, which f●d upon many medicinable herbs (and proper to those diseases growing in that place) they recovered in a short time: having perhaps learned out of Hippocrites, that i● long & languishing diseases, there is nothing better than Air, and place of our dwelling.  
The next thing for our health we must have especial care of our eating and drinking: our meat● wherewith our bodies are nourished, proceedeth either from living creatures, or vegetables, that is plants: & of these there must be a choice had, that of Plants nourisheth far less than the flesh of living creatures, excepting that grain whereof we make our bread, as Wheat, Rye, Barley, Oats, etc. Wheat being the chie●e: fruits nourish very little; of fruits, Cherries and Grapes are the best. Melon, Cucumbers, and citruls are good for choleric stomaches, they breed gross blood, are very cold, and hard of digestion: Platina tells us in the life of Pope Paul the second, how the said Pope two house's before night was taken suddenly with an Apoplexy, being a little be●ore very well, and complaining of no disease or pain, which came through eating of 2 whole Muskmellons. An. 1471.  
And how many in these our times kill themselves with overmuch drinking, the cause of many long and deadly diseases; as Apoplexies, Dropsies, Palsies, the Gout, & many other; and I know not whether any of the colder Northern Nation herein excel us, drunkenness now a days being grown into that request, that it is almost esteemed a virtue, at least a gentleman like quality to carouse, sit up whole days & nights at it.  
— Donec vertigine tectum.  
Ambulet & geminis exurgat mensa lucernis.  
Keeping neither Method nor measure in their eating and drinking, which the ancient Grecians, and other nations were so precise in it: England formerly having been accounted the most ●ober and temperate nation in the world: neither were we ever noted for this vice, till (as Mr. Camden●aith ●aith) we had to do with the Netherlands in their wars. Also being from all antiquity our English drink: Britanni (saith Pliny) habent potus genus quod Alicam vocant: which do●btlesse was our Ale, Beer, and ●ase viols, came into England in one year, in the time of King Henry the seaventh. But tha● I may conclude concerning those things whereon ours doth principall●y depend, which are, the Aire●, eating, drinking sleep & waking, moving, and exercise, rest, evacuation of excrements, veneral recreation, and passions of the mind; that we may live to serve God, to do our King and Country service, to be a comfort to our friends, and helpful to our Children, and others that depend upon us, let us follow Sobriety and Temperance, and have (as Tully saith) a diligent care of our health, which we shall be sure to do, if we will observe and keep that one short (but true) rule of Hippocritas, 
〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉.  All things moderately, and in measure.   
FINIS.