THE HAPPINESS OF A RELIGIOUS STATE Divided into three Books.  
Written in Latin by FA. HIEROME PLATUS of the Society of JESUS. AND now translated into English.  
PERMISSV SUPERIORUM. ANNO DOMINI. M. DC. XXXII.   


THE FIRST BOOK, OF THE HAPPINESS OF A RELIGIOUS STATE.  
THE PREFACE. Of the beauty of a Religious State; and how it hath been ever opposed by the Devil.  
IF the nature of man had always remained upright and entire, as it was created by God, the course towards immortal life and glory, for which he was created, would have been unto him both easy and pleasant, without any other help then the grace of God, 
Humane nature decayed.  which in his first beginning he should have received, and all his life-time after abundantly increased through his own deserts. But now, since it hath been so much enfeebled, stained, and broken, first, by original sin (which from one hath passed through all mankind) then by the sins, which are proper to every man; and seeing moreover he is in a perpetual combat and strife with the world, in which he lives, and with the Princes and powers of this darkness, by whom he is most fiercely and maliciously opposed; nothing can be more hard unto him, or more laborious, then to raise his lumpish thoughts and decayed nature to that happy State, for which he was ordained; nothing more easy and ready then to fail thereof, and to run headlong down to everlasting ruin both of body and soul.  
The Creator therefore and governor of mankind, 
Ser. 2. 〈◊〉 Natiu●ra.  whose nature is goodness, whose work is mercy (as S. Leo speaketh) hath ever been careful, and doth never cease to support and fortify this weakness of ours, with most convenient remedies: and 〈◊〉 offer unto all of his Divine help, whereby they may securely, if they will, and also with facility, compass the great work of their soul's salvation. Out of which heavenly fountain do issue all spiritual counsels, advices, and reasons, and all that variety of holy Inventions, as I may term them, which we see in the Catholic Church proposed by our sweet Lord and Saviour JESUS; partly, to uphold man, that he fall not, being of himself so weak & prone to evil; partly, to raise him, if he have chanced to fall; & partly again to strengthen and confirm him in the continual pursuit of all Christian duty and perfection.  
Among which Divine Inventions and helps, 
The benefit of a Religious state.  a Religious State is worthily to be reckoned, yea it is the chiefest and the greatest of them all: and the benefit and spiritual commodities thereof are every way so rare and excellent, that, without all doubt, among all the heavenly addresses, and remedies, and rules of well living, which before I mentioned, nothing can be, I do not say of greater, but of equal esteem and value with this. For it doth not direct us in one thing alone, at one time, or in one business and exercise, as do most of other spiritual graces and gifts; but it stretcheth itself to our whole life, and embraceth every part and parcel thereof, leading us by the hand, to the performance of all perfect virtue, with that sasenes and dexterity, as that removing all lets and impediments, ● affordeth as much help, succour, and defence, as can be wished, and doth in very deed bring it so to pass, 
Luc. 1.74.  that, freed from the hand of our enemies, we serve him, who is our only true Lord and God, in sanctity and justice in his sight, all the days of our life.  
First therefore, it taketh away and keepeth from us all occasions and allurements of sin, removing us out of the world, and wordly traffic, into a most calm and quiet haven, or rather into a strong fortified Castle, where we may easily withstand the Devil, and purchase a glorious conquest over him, though to his strength, no power upon earth can be compared. And having laid this ground, and cleared the earth of our souls, of the thorns and thistles which choke the corn, 
Mat. 13.7▪  it soweth in them the good seed of all spiritual virtues; of which, though many may and aught to be practised by all Christians, yet we find by experience, that few men endeavour in them. But the very trade of life, which the Religious do profess, doth put them in a way of gaining them in a more assured, more plentiful, and more permanent manner. For it ministereth frequent and daily occasion of the exercise of all virtue; and, by continual practice, it engrafteth by little and little good habits in the mind, and good customs in our outward actions; In brief, it teacheth no other thing, then to bend all our care, thoughts, and desires, towards the service and fear of God, and the obtaining of a most inward conjunction with that infinite Sanctity.  
But besides the virtues, which as I said, may be practised by all, there be others, so proper to a Religious State, that they are not to be found in any other Course; such is the Poverty and absolute Renunciation of all things, 
Virtue's peculiar in Religious people.  which they profess; their Obedience and entire denial of their own wills; their despising and setting at naught all things which are in this world, and of which the world doth usually vaunt itself and glory; which Religion doth so absolutely, and of se● purpose, neglect and tread under foot, that among other most excellent dispositions of the mind, it doth work and settle this contempt of all inferior things most, of all in them; than which there can not be a more profitable or more noble a resolution.  

The benefit of serving God in company with others.  And over and above the benefit, which every one by himself and by his private endeavour doth reap, there is yet a far greater, arising out of that bond and convexion, which passeth more straightly betwixt so many souls living together, by which the whole multitude of them is so inwardly linked and knit all under one, that of many members they become one body. For among those that serve God one by one, though they serve him with all care and diligence, every one is put to try his strength by himself, and to wrestle against his enemies with his own single forces: But in a Religious company, the ability of one, is so mingled and tempered with the ability of all the rest, and the good deeds of all, are so common to every one and particular, that they are rich and enabled, not only by their own, but with each others wealth and substance; and certainly innumerable commodities do accrue unto every one, from this common link and affinity.  

The beauty of a Regl●ious course.  Now, in the framing of all natural things, we see, that God hath had particular regard, to couple beauty and sightlines with useful commodity, as in Man, the frame of whose body, and the fashion of every part thereof, is not only fitted for convenient motion and service, but made comely and goodly to see to; which is easily discovered by the i'll savourdnesse, which appeareth, if any one of his members be wrested aside, or set awry. Seeing therefore, the Al-creating Wisdom hath so carefully observed this course in the inferior rank of natural things; much more ought we to think, that in Religious In●●●n●●s, which are of a more eminent degree and strain, he hath so handled the matter, ●hat besides the exceeding profit and commodity, which they bring, they should have singul●r beauty and seemliness, wonderfully graceful without all doubt, in the eyes of God, and his Angels.  
For as, when we behold a Brooch or Coronet, or other curious workmanship, composed of many ge●●nes and precious stones, we admire not alone the beauty, which every gem doth bring severally by itself, but this very beauty and lustre greatly augmented and increased by the multitude of them, and the comely order, in which they are ranked. And as the sound of voices and Instruments doth take a man very much, though they be sole and single, yet a Consort of Music, tempered with choice variety of divers Notes together, doth much more fill and please the ear, the Bases and Trebles, with proportionable disproportion, agreeing and answering one to the other, so ●●erie virtue severally by itsef, and standing as it were alone, cannot choose but be pleasing and lovely, yet in Religion, by reason that there be many, in whom the elegancy of this one virtue is very apparent, the selfsame must needs be in every man's eye much more beautiful and glorious.  
We may therefore with full consent of every body, 
Religious people more happy, than the seruant● of King Solomon.  deservedly apply to this State and form of life, the saying of the Queen of Saba, who being called out of her own country with the noise and fame, that ran of the greatness of King Solomon, having now heard with her own ears the wisdom of his answers, and beheld near-hand the abundance of his wealth, his stately buildings, his sumptuous boards and table-seruices, the mansions of his servants, the order of his attendance, their gorgeous attire, and comely payments; finally, the incredible plenty of his Victimes and Sacrifices, she is said, to have stood amazed, and to have cried out: 
3. Reg. 10.  Blessed are the men, and blessed are thy servants, who here stand in thy sight, and hear thy wisdom. For who is more truly King Solomon, than our Saviour Christ, 
Colos. 1.20.  a king not only peaceable, but appeasing the things, which are in heaven, and which are on earth?  
This Solomon therefore, 
Coloss. 2.3.  in whom be all the treasures of the wisdom and knowledge of God, and who is King and Lord over all, though he have other subjects, yet they ●ost of all, and most truly are to be styled his servants, who dwell in his house, and always wait upon his person, such are the Companies of Religious people, who for this reason alone have forsaken their parents, their brethren, their friends, and kinsfolks, and their dwelling-houses, to remove and transplant themselves into his household and retinue. And they be also distributed into diverse orders, different in their manner of life, and in their habit, and clothing: Here they taste of princely dainties and delicacies of spiritual comforts, I say, and inward joy, 
Proverb. 25.23.  and that peace and security of Conscience, which is a continual banquet, Here is great plenty of Sacrifices and whole offerings, because every Religious man is a Sacrifice, yea every work they do, may be called a Sacrifice; because it is entirely offered to God, and wholly devoted to his service. Finally, their peculiar office and only business, is to hearken ●o the wisdom of this divine Solomon, that is, of their Lord God, neither in very deed do they ●nie other thing, but abide perpetually in that heavenly light, praying and meditating, and picking out of good books such wholesome instructions, as may better their souls, and many other ways deriving unto themselves, light, strength, grace, and all good things from him, who is the fountain of goodness. Blessed therefore are they also, who stand here in the sight of their Lord God, and much more happy, than the servants of that Solomon of old, in regard they serve a Master, who is infinitely more worthy, more noble, more able, and ready to do well for them.  

Religion ●s the more to be valued ●n regard of the opposition against it.  Now, in my opinion, the excellency of a Religious life, is not only to be valued by the favour, which it hath with God, but by reason it is extremely hated by the Devil. If therefore we observe things right, we shall find this course so violently opposed, and assaulted with such su●●●l divises and crafty fetches of the sworn enemy of mankind, that it is very apparent, that among all the gifts and graces, which have descended upon Man from above, this most of all hath angered him, and abidden the flaming rage of his malice. I say nothing of private temptations and secret battles, which incessantly he bids every one in particular; I speak only of that universal war, which he hath always most fiercely maintained against Religion in general. For Monastical discipline, if we take it at the root, began presently upon the publishing and spreading of the Christian Faith, and together with it, to spread and dilate itself, chiefly in that golden Age of Constantin, when out of the solitary places and vast deserts, in which it lay hid for three hundred years and upwards, it came forth to the view and eye of the world. In which times we may observe, that whomsoever the Enemy got to plot or act any mischief against the whole Church, the same be armed and incensed most of all against this fortress of the Church. And we may behold them divided into two ranks. 
The first sort of opposers of Religious courses. julian  For some have gone about by might and authority, and by open war to oppress the followers of a Religious life; Others, who had not that power, have striven by wiles and deceits, by slanders and reproachful speeches, and by sowing Heretical doctrine▪ to undermine them. For first of all julian the Renegade (the more bitter and heavier enemy unto us, in regard he was privy to all things which belong to Christian profession) did not with fire and sword afflict the Religious; for, as Gregory Nazianzen speaketh of him, 
Orat. 1. in julian.  he did envy the Christians this glory of Martyrdom: But whatsoever he could invent, without shedding of blood, that might molest, or disgrace, or quite root them out, to that he bent all the strength of his wit, which, as men report of him, was not mean. Which thing is set forth by S. Gregory Nazianzen in his Oration to the same Apostate, in conclusion whereof, making himself an humble suppliant in behalf of all Religious Companies, 
Ibidem.  he presenteth unto him the whole multitude of Philosophers (as he termeth them) who are wholly free and exempt from all earthly band and tie; who to their own use, have their own bodies only, and them not wholly and entirely to themselves; who owe Cesar nothing, but all to God, their Hymns, prayers, watchings, and tears; with these men, saith he, if thou wilt deal more mildly, and use them like themselves, that is, as the servants of God, the Disciples of Christ, the Contemplers' of heavenly things, the first fruits of our saviour's flock, the Pillars and Crowns of Faith, precious Margarites, the prime Materials of that Temple, whose foundation and cornerstone is Christ, thou shalt do well, for thyself, and for them and us.  

Valens 〈◊〉 Arrian Emperor.  The fury and rage of Valens was not much less, who is famous for his ungodly behaviour, chiefly against S. Basil. He by a general Edict or Proclamation commanded that all Man's should bear arms, and follow the war; threatening to lay most grievous punishm●ts upon them that should refuse it; which was a great vexation to the servants of God, while those that said Nay, were most cruelly handled, others were by force haled to the camp●manie were withdrawn from giving themselves to the service of God, and those that had already put themselves into it, might not enjoy the spiritual quiet which they professed.  

The persecutors of Religious people published.  But this cruelty, not long after, cost both these Emperors very dear. For julian, when he had reigned about one year and a half, was struck with a lance brandished from heaven, and so killed in the midst of his army. Valens, having governed the stern not much longer, his army being most shamefully put to rout, and himself flying to a farme-house not far of, was there burnt to death by the enemy.  
Constantinus Copronymu● followed the like strain; 
Constantin Copronymu●.  a man cruel and outrageous against the whole Church of God, but chiefly against Religious families, which he laboured to bring in disgrace, by most infamous slanders, and reproachful language, and to oppress them also with grievous afflictions and torments, being resolved within himself to put them all down, not by way of dispute, or cavil, or course of law, but by imprisonment, torture, and death; and he brought them to great distress, and Satan began to glory in his triumphs, but that God, who never forsaketh his own cause, by particular providence, taking him out of this world, gave the raynes first to his son Leo (who yet was a man much of like temper with his father) then to Irene the Empress, who with exceeding piety employed herself in the cure of the wounds both of the whole Church, and particularly of Religious Orders, which (as we read in the Anuals) were under her wing and protection greatly advanced and propagated. Nicephorus was Emperor after her, who was also a great lover and favourer of Religious people. But this calm was not long: for soon after, the Devil inflamed the rage and fury of Leo the Armenian, 
Leo ●●menus.  who is reported to have been the cruelest bent of all the rest against such as gave themselves to a Monastical life, and to have punished them with famine, exil, imprisonment, and all kinds of evil. But the heavy hand of God fell upon him within a short time; for he was slain by his soldiers at the very Altar, to which he had fled for refuge, and so abide in the manner of his death the like barbarous cruelty, which in his life-time he had practised, after the example of others.  
But these things were done of old, and are taken out of ancient Records, we want not practices of the same stamp acted before our eyes. 
Henry the ●.  For in England when Henry the Eight falling from the Church, made a league with Hell (a league pernicious to himself and his) the first onset he gave, was upon the Charterhouse-Monks, and other Religious families, afflicting them with diverse kinds of punishments; which bitter proceedings have not been in later times allayed, buthrought down to our days in more grievous measure, as appeareth by the sharp laws, and fearful Executions, which are daily here reported from those parts: wherein all Religious persons throughout the Realm, but chiefly those of our society, are threatened with imprisonment, torture, and death; and whosoever shall entertain them, or afford them any relief, is subject to the like penalties. And in like manner they have showed rigour, principally over Religious people, not in that Island alone, but wheresoever the flame of this Heresy hath been spread abroad, in France, in Germany, and in the Low-Countryes. For they have ruined their houses, profaned their Monasteries, entered upon their lands and possessions, and taken them away by open violence; they have tormented their bodies consecrated to God, with so many several kinds of punishments and diverse indignities offered, that it is not passable, that man to man should be so cruel, but that the Devil did use them as actors of his hatred and malice. These took the sword in hand, and went about by might and violence, to overcharge and crush that feeble and unarmed Company. Others undertook a war, 
These con●sorte of those that opposed Religious Courses.  in show more soft and gentle, but perhaps more dangerous, by argument, disputation, and written books, that nothing might be lest unattempted and essayed. So we read, that many Ages past, while S. Hierome lived, there sprang-up two, that were equal in time and in wickedness, jovinian at Rome, and Vigilantius in France. Both of them aimed at the hart-bloud of Religion, the one by teaching that Virginity is of no higher esteem than Marriage, 
Heretic●● old and ●ewe.  the other by equalizing Riches with voluntary Poverty. In later times Wicleff the Heretic, resembling them both, and without doubt more pernicious than they, began to make head, and speak bitterly against diverse positions of the Church, but chiefly against Religious Orders, 
jovinian Vigilanti●● W●●lof.  terming them humane inventions, idle conceits and newly devised, & averring that there is no more perfection in them, than the ordinary manner of living of all Christians doth contain, being equally instituted by Christ our Saviour; and that they take away the honour due by the commandment of God to Parents, as if children, that entered, were released of their duty. This man's fictions have been excellently well confuted by Waldenfis, 
Tho. Vraldensis de Sacram. tit. 9 a cap. 83.  a famous Writer, who hath so quashed his currish maliper●nes (for so he styleth it) that nothing can be penned more learnedly or more fully; and among other things he saith: That he cannot but wonder at him, why, having stolen his argument against Religion from the pen of a Manichee, he did not take an answer unto the same, from the pen of S. Austin. The self same Heretic hath been in a higher Court condemned by two several Counsels, first by a Council at Rome, under john the Two and twentieth, afterwards by the Council of Constance; in which himself, and the memory of him, 
Sess. 1.  there dead, was accursed, and his body commanded to be taken out of the grave, and cast forth from Christian burial. But we shall not need to rippeup Heresies of elder times; we have had experience in our own days, that all broachers of wicked Doctrines have no part of the Church in greater hatred, nor oppose any more ●lifly, than the Religious. Luther among many other villainous ●ants and reproaches, doth fond and foolishly, yet withal most ungraciously, jest at them, as if they Sacrificed their bodies to the Idol Molock. 
Heretics in out days.  Calvin calleth the Vows of Religion, the nets of Satan. Melancton, styleth them foolish observations, and Mahometical traditions. Finally, all those that by word or writing have banded against the Catholic truth, have had in 〈◊〉 chiefly in their head, 
Melancthon.  how they might make Religious people hateful and odious.  
But, which is worse, besides Heretics, the Devil hath often stirred-up and incensed, the Domestical of Faith against Religious Orders; endeavouring by the malicious speeches of some such kind of people, 
Domestical 〈◊〉.  to cast most grievous aspersions and heavy displeasure upon their manner of living, or at least, to lessen the esteem thereof, when he ●an compass nothing else ●hich is so common and ordinary a thing, that it is bootless to enlarge myself upon the matter, or confirm it by examples. And it hath been always observed, that never any Religious Order was raised by God, against which the Devil hath not presently armed at his troops, and bend all his forces and skill, to oppress it at the first, to slander it, and destroy it. Which wicked endeavour of his, seemeth to have been clearly prefigured of old, in that King Pharaoh, who commanded all the male-childrens of the jews should be made away, and the females reserved to live; as of whom he should not need to stand in awe: 
Exod. 1. ●●.  so the Prince of this world taketh no great heed to the weaker sort; but whose virtue and strength he thinks he may in ●ime feel to his cost, these he laboureth early to overthrow. S. Benedict and his tender flack found it by experience: for as S. Gregory relateth) when the Devil perceived the number of them which the Saint had gathered together, 
Dial. ●.  daily to enercase, he made use of the malice of one Florentius a Priest, and attempted by him, first to poison S. Benedict, and afterwards, when this did not succeed, to corrupt the minds of his disciples with a more poisoned and most shameful sight set before their eyes. 
S. Benedict. opposed.  But he received soon after the deserved punishment of his wicked intention: for the house, where he was, falling down suddenly upon him, he had much a do to escape. The like happened to the two most famous and holy Orders of S. Dominick and S. Francis. 
And S. Domini●k and S. Francis.  For when they began happily to increase and spread themselves about fifty years after their beginning, the Devil stirred against them one william a Canon of Mascon, and Gyraldus a Doctor of Paris, both equal in malice and madness. These two endeavoured what they could, both by word of mouth, in common assemblies, and in the pulpit▪ and by 〈◊〉 volumes set forth against them in writing, to disgrace and stop the course of ●heir institute: and flicked not to say, that it was not lawful for them neither to beg, nor 〈◊〉 study, nor to preach, nor to hear Confessions. By which means there was, as we read, a great commotion raised against these servants of God, not only among the unlearned sort of people, but among most of the better sort, whom by opinion of learning, and by their subtle manner of arguing, they had inveigled S. Thomas of Aquin, 
S Thomas of Aquin and S. Bonauent●●e defended Religion with their pen.  and S. Bonaventure (two glorious lights of these Orders) withstood the malice of the two opponents. S. Bonaventure writ a book which he entitled. The Apology of the Poor: S. Thomas set forth a little treatise against the opposers of Religion, which he beginneth fitly with these words of the Psalm: Behold thy enemies have made a noise, and those that ha●e: he, have life up their head: Upon thy people they have maliciously turned their counsels, & bent their thoughts against thy servants: And among other things hath this excellent advertisement, that, though God, as he is almighty, could easily by himself bring all mankind to that everlasting happiness for which it is created; 
Psal. 82, v. 3.  yet because in this business of our salvation, which is the greatest of all other businesses, he will hold the same sweet course and order, with which his Divine Providence is delighted in all other things, he is pleased to use the endeavours of his Ministers, who (as S. Paul saith) are the Coadiutours, and Assistants of God. Therefore on the contrary side, it is the project of the Prince of darkness, 
1. Cor. 3.9.  opposing himself against the glory of God, and the good of souls to hinder these servants of God, 
13. Moral. c. 5.  in so great and wholesome a work which they have undertaken. Which S. Gregory confirmeth when he saith, that the wicked do chiefly persecute that part of holy Church which they see is likely to do good to many. Thus far S. Thomas. Who with his learned pen did stop the mouth of these wicked teachers: but much more God with his just and severe judgement over them. William by Pope Alexander the Fourth, 
The opposers of Religion punished.  was called to Rome; where in open Consistory, being convict and condemned, at the suit of both these Religious Families, pleading their own and God almighty's cause, besides that his book was burnt in sight of the whole assembly, he, as author thereof, was deprived of his Ecclesiastical functions and Living, and banished at the French dominions by Lewis then King. Gyraldus was sharply punished in another kind; for being not long after taken with a palsy, he died a leapre, to the end of the loathsomeness of his unwonted death might make known to all, the loathsomeness of his offence. And as the Devil did thus persecute these two orders in their first beginnings, the like he hath done to all the rest, and lastly to our Society, which he hath not only laboured to extinguish by piecemeal, in several places and countries, raising several combats against it, but did at Rome go about with might and main to dissolve the very first foundation thereof, when it was newly laid in the ground, by certain instruments which there he had, spreading most slanderous reports of S. Ignatius our Founder, and of his Companions, charging them with Heresy, & diverse other enormous crimes. But here also God showed himself our God, & wrought so by his singular and most evident providence that S. Ignatius and his followers were acquitted of all suspicion, 
S. Ignatius persecuted by diuer●.  by a solemn and honourable judgement pronounced for them, and the authors of that infamous columniation were punished in several kinds. One of them was banished; an other, pining away with sickness, died with great demonstration of sorrow for his fact, a third, being himself guilty of Heresy, & therefore stolen away privately, his image was burn● in the face of the city; the fourth of them likewise for Heresy was committed to the Goal during life; the fifth and last, fell to be a Lutheran, which of all the rest was the heaviest punishment. Thus if we compare together these and the like events, we may justly think that the goodness of our God hath striven and as it were proved his strength against the malice of the Devil, in behalf of Religious courses, God labouring to erect, establish, and honour them; the Devil opposing them continually, and playing upon them with all sorts of weapons and devices▪ yet so as the goodness and powerful hand of God, who without comparison is more high and mighty, 
Psal. ●. 1●.  both had the Mastery, and with the shield of his good will and favour still protected and upheld this his so worthy and great a work.  
These are the reasons, why of long time I have been of opinion, that to declare (according to my ability) the Excellence of a Religious State, and the unspeakable profit thereof, would prove an employment well deserving my pains and labour, and be useful both to set forth the great wisdom of God in so eminent a work as is a Religious life, and to abate and suppress the malicious practices of the Devil against the same. For to this the Prophet Esay doth seem to exhort us, 
●sa. 12. ●.  saying: Make known his inventions among the people. For certainly, as I said in the beginning, among all those things which have been by God most advisedly and most lovingly invented and accomplished for the help and salvation of mankind, this manner of living under Rule and order, is to be accounted the chiefest. And I have been the rather induced to undertake this labour, hoping that besides other commodities arising thereof, 
The benefit which Religious people may reap by this 〈◊〉 arise.  the Religious themselves will be benefited, and enabled the better to understand the good which they possess, and to embrace it the more ardently. For it may happen that their mind may be sometimes as it were glutted with the riches and greatness of this benefit, or carried aside with attention to other matters, or dulled by daily handling the same things, so that themselves shall be strangers to their own happiness, and in a manner hunger-starved at a full board of dainties; as it falleth out with countrypeople that have gardens and vineyards in occupation, and dwelling all their life-time in that delicious sweetness of air, with which others are so vehemently taken, that they come from places far distant, only to have a view of them, and cannot satisfy themselves with recording the praises, and feeding themselves as it were with the shadow and remembrance of the pleasure, these poor snakes contrariwise take no heed thereunto, as if they had even lost the sense of their eyes; which fault were the more fowl in a Religious man, because he hath no other business to attend to but this, or at the leastwise he ought to level and direct all his other thoughts and employments to this alone; for otherwise he debars himself not only of the pleasure of the place, as those countrey-clownes I spoke of, but of very many rich commodities, and cannot possibly bear towards God so mindful, so thankful, and so loving a hart as becomes him to do. These men therefore, as I said, are all to be roused up so much as we may, and encouraged to hold their eyes open upon the great benefit, which they have received; that beholding it, they may frame their life and behaviour suitable to the great work thereof.   

THE FIRST BOOK OF THE HAPPINESS OF A RELIGIOUS ESTATE.  
TESTIMONIES OF THE ANCIENT Fathers in commendation of a Religious Estate. CHAP. I.  
TWO things among men are of great force in persuading, to wit, Reason and Authority. Reason is grounded in the light which it hath within itself. Authority, in the light which is in others: Which is so far from diminishing the credit it ought to carry; that it doth rather strengthen & assure it. 
The force of Auctori●tie.  For if we think it fit to give assent to things which we have found out by ourselves, and which ourselves have throughly examined; because we dare trust our own wit and judgement; much more trust and assurance ought we to repose upon the cunning & abilities of such men, as we know have had excellent gifts of understanding and wisdom, and whom we acknowledge to be far above us. Wherefore those very sciences, which canvas truth upon the point of Reason, do not lay Authority aside, but each of them have their authors, and sovereign teachers whose positions they defend with tooth and nail: which in sciences which aim at the direction of manners, ought much rather to be practised; because to make a right estimate of these things, besides sharpness of wit, we must have a will good and upright, which by virtue alone is engendered; oftimes also we stand in need of experience in that which we are to resolve on; wherefore as every one doth think it reasonable in whatsoever art, or science, he doth mean● to study, to make choice of some prime man upon whom he may rely, and allow as warrantable whatsoever that man hath plainly set down in writing, or covertly given to understand (as for the precepts of Rhetoric we Choose Cicero, or Demosthenes: Aristotle, or Plato in Philosophy; In the Mathematics, Euclid, or some other writer of note.) So in the school of Christ we have some heads and leaders, whose sayings ought to bear the greater sway with us, because themselves were so eminent in learning and virtue, that we may justly persuade ourselves, that they did not only by the strength of their own wit, discover great matters, but were also particularly enlightened by God: Wherefore in this subject which I have undertaken to handle, touching the Happiness of a Religious life, I have thought good to lay down first of all, the sayings of some such prime authors and Saints, plainly, and as they have been delivered by themselves, without any discourse or gloss of my own upon them: hoping that they will carry the greater weight with every body, in regard that all of them, (one or two perhaps excepted) have bestowed all, or the best part of their whole life and labour, in the practice of that which they have commended, so that their Authority doth not want experience to strengthen it, of which I spoke before. (These men therefore we shall place in the very front & vaunt of the battle as the strongest fence of our Cause.  

S. Greg. Nazianz Orat. in l●ulem Basil  2. S. Gregoire Nazianzen shall be the foremost; He esteemeth Religious men to be the most choice and the wisest part of the Church; for those saith he, are to be accounted wiser than the rest, who have severed themselves from the acquaintance of the world, and consecrate their life to God our Nazareans, I mean: And in another place, he styleth them, such as have raised themselves above the earth; live free from the bands of Marriage; 
Religious men the wisest.  have little traffic with the world; have ordered the course of their life so as day and night they praise God, with godly Hymns. They hate the goods of the earth with which the Prince of this world is wont to inveigle the hearts of people, 
In Carmine ad Helle.  & which he changeth very often from one to another; and the ho●e of those riches which never forsake their owners, they esteem equivalent to all manner of wealth; 
And Happiest, in regard of their Renunciation.  They long not after that Rib which foolishly loveth the body; they repose not their hopes upon a new rank of Children, they place not their trust upon their brethren and kinsfolk, or upon their Compagnions', that is, upon flesh and blood, which shall shortly perish: neither do they covet the glory of this world which doth quickly vanish, but they fix their mind wholly upon God and fasten their Cables to him, as to an immoveable Rock; they are enrolled among those that lead a life hidden in Christ that when the brightness of that life shall break forth, they may also send forth their light on every s●de, beholding the great glory of the heavenly host, not in dark resemblance, or in a few traces of truth, but clear and manifest. Truly and neatly spoken; but specially where he termeth the wife (which Religious people look not after) the Rib which coveteth the body of Man, from whom it was taken; pointing in a word at their happiness, who have stolen themselves out of such allurements and combats. 
Idem Orat. 1. in julianun  But the same S. Gregory doth speak yet more fully in another Oration of his.  
3. Dost thou behold these people, bereft of relief and shelter; these abjects, these men of earth, that overtop all earthly things. These who converse among men, and have outgrown all things which belong to man; 
And of the reward of their Mortification.  loaden with chains, and yet are free; in restraint, and cannot be restrained. These who possess nothing in this world, and have all things; because they have the world under their feet. These men, who by their mortification are become immortal; by hanging-off from all things are united with God; are cold in love, and burn with the love of divine things. These to whom the fountain of light doth belong, who send forth their rays, and resplendent beams of lustre; who sing psalms like Angels; stand Sentinel by night; whose souls depart unto God before their death, their minds being ravished into heaven. These to whom it doth belong to purge others from imperfection, and themselves are daily purged, because they do not stint themselves, in their progress towards heaven, and in their endeavours to be like to God. They are disdained among men and trodden under foot, and withal are seated upon Celestial thrones. They are naked, and clad with an incorruptible raiment, in the wilderness of this world, they enjoy the honourable Compagnies of the world to come; they despise all pleasures, and have continual and unspeakable pleasure of the mind; their tears are the deluge of sin; the world's satisfaction, and purging; the stretching forth of their arms doth quench flames of fire.  
3. Finally the same Saint in that most excellent Apology in which he giveth account why he forsook his Bishopric & fled into Pontus: 
Id●m in Apologia.  placeth this reason in the first rank, because of the goods without number which a Religious life doth contain; styling it a quiet life, 
And of their quiet.  void of trouble; a Sanctuary; And nothing (saith he moreover) could seem unto me more happy than a man, that hath his corporal senses in custody, and at command; who placed beyond the world, and the flesh and retired within himself, undertaketh no humane affair▪ unless he be driven there unto by extreme necessity, & conversing with himself, and with God leadeth a life above all visible things, his mind filled with divine representations, and with thoughts always pure, without mixture of terrene and wandering fancies: A Seeing-glasse unspotted, representing God, and things divine, & daily becometh more pure than other; his traffic is with the Angels, and though he live here upon earth, he abandoneth the earth, and in spirit is seated in heaven.  
4. S. john Chrisostome doth handle this matter much more at large, 
S. john Chrysostome contra vituperatores vitae Monastic.  in many homilies, in which he doth heap very many great praises upon this holy Institution, but especially in three whole books which he wrote against the dispraisers of a Monastical life: in which books he maketh account, that he hath made it a clear case, not only to a Christian Parent: but (which is more to be admired) to any Heathen: that if his son, swimming in worldly wealth, should leave all, and betake himself to the poverty, 
That a rich man is the happier by leaving all, and entering into Religion, even for temporal consideration.  and abjectness of a Religious life, it were far better for him. And this he performed, first, by force of considerations drawn from the state of this present life, not meddling with the life to come, of which the heathen hath little knowledge; for he proveth that the riches of a Religious man are greater, more real, and of a higher value; his pleasures more solid, himself better fortified, both for defence of himself, and offence of his enemies▪ & which is more hard to be believed, that in this world he shall be more renowned. This he confirmeth by example of heathen Philosophers: & showeth that their poverty, & want was, & is, more famous, after so many ages, than the great wealth, and preeminence of kings. 
Much more, for reasons eternal.  Then turning his discourse to Christians, and having so much the easier task in hand, he doth reason so profoundly of the pains to Hell, of the joys of heaven, of the latter day of judgement, of the snares and wiles of this world, & of the foulness of sin: bringing proof of all, out of the gospels, and other books of Scripture, that he giveth no man leave to doubt of the matter. 5. Climachus also, 
Climacus.  an ancient, & substantial writer, hath many things to like purpose, through his whole book, 
Grad● 4.  but I have made choice of this one saying, short in words, but in substance pithy; That a Monastery is a kind of heaven upon earth, and therefore with what affection, 
Religion a Heaven upon earth.  and reverence, we believe that the Angels wait upon God, with the like we must minister unto our Brethren.  

S. Ephrem ser. de virt. & vit.  6. To which saying S. Ephrem hath another not unlike (who is an author of the same age, and antiquity. When I consider, saith he, this Angelical kind of living, I hold, that all the wholesome orders of the same, are very blessed; for can we reckon him otherwise then blessed, 
Religion an Angelical life.  who liveth piously, and uprightly in perpetual chastity, in regard of the infinite riches without measure which are reserved for him? wherefore let us do our endeavour, in this short stint of time, to live in the fear of God in this monastical, Religious, Angelical kind of life, & with all our strength, cleave to the holy Commandments of our Lord and Saviour, with all Humility.  

S. john Damascen. De Barlaam & josaphat  7. S. john Damascen also speaketh passing well, in commendation of Religious people. Assuredly, saith he, they are happy & thrice happy; for being inflamed with the love of God, they did set all things at naught for his sake: they poured forth tears, and continued in sorrow night and day to purchase eternal comfort; they voluntarily debased themselves, 
The blessing of a Religious life.  that in heaven they might be exalted; they afflicted their bodies with hunger, and thirst, and watching, that they might be entertained with the delights of Paradise through cleanness of hart; they were Temples of the holy Ghost, that they might stand at the right hand of our Saviour. They girded their loins with truth, and had their lamps always in a readiness, attending the coming of the Immortal bridegroom: for having their eyes open, they did at all times foresee that terrible day, and had the contemplation of their future good, & of the punishments of the other life, so engraven in a manner, in their very body, that they could never be withdrawn from it. They were ready to take pains here, that they might enjoy eternal glory; and were free from all turbulent passion, like the Angels of heaven, they are happy, and thrice happy, because they discovered with the clear, & steady eyesight of their mind, the vanity of all things present, and the variableness, and unconstancy of humane prosperity, and despising it, they laid up in store for themselves everlasting riches, and took hold of that life which neue● sets, and is never cut off by death.  

Eus●bius Casariensis. l. 1. d●m. Euang. c 8.  8. Eusebius Casariensis shall shut up the rank of the Greek fathers, who saith that in the Church of God there be two manners of life ordained. The one, doth step beyond nature, and the common strain of the life of man. It looketh n●t after marriage, 
Two states in the Church of God.  nor issue, nor goods, nor abundance of wealth: but is vowed to the sole service of God, through excessive love of heavenly things, such as have embraced this kind of living, look down upon the life of the rest of men, as if themselves were severed from this mortality, and carrying their body only hear upon earth, 

Unmarried, more perfect.  
Married inferior degree.   dwell in heaven with their mind and cogitation, as being consecrate to our great God, in Feu of all mankind. And certainly among Christians there is such a kind of perfect life; there is also another kind more slack, and which hath more of the man; this is entangled in sober wedlock, and breeding of children, it groaneth under the care of howsehold business, and setteth down laws for those that follow a just war: it alloweth also of trading in merchandise, and husbandry, so that the service of God go with it. These men belong to an inferior degree of piety.  
9 Now to come to the latin Fathers, that which S. Cyprian saith of vowed virgins, 
S. Cyprian de habitu Virg. ●. 4. c. 21.  is a notable commendation, and is quoted by S. Augustin in his treatise of Christian doctrine, for a singular speech. It is saith he, the flower of the Ecclesiastical branch; the glory and grace of spiritual graces; The very lustre of honour and praise; 
Virgins the flo●er of the church.  a work perfect, and unattainted; the image of God answerable to his sanctity; the nobler part of the flock of Christ; the glorious fruitfulness of our holy mother the Church is filled with joy, by reason of these virgins, and in them she doth abundantly blossom; And by how much the number is greater of this glorious virginity the more is the joy of the mother increased.  
10. To him we may add the worthy testimony of S. Ambrose, 
S. Ambrose l. de v●a●i●.  who in his book of widows, upon that document of our Saviour, when you have done all things that are commanded you▪ say▪ we are unprofitable servants, what we ought to have done, 
Luc 17.10.  we have done, discourseth thus: The virgin saith not so: he that hath sold all his substance, saith not so; but doth look to have some recompense laid up for him; 
A Religious man a profitable servant.  as the holy Apostle saith, behold we have left all things, and followed thee, what therefore shall we have; He saith not, as an unprofitable servant, I have done what I ought, but as profitable to his Master, and as one that hath multiplied the talents which were committed to his charge, 
Matth. 19.27.  by putting his money to profit, doth wait for the reward of his trust, and virtue, knowing he hath done and deserved well And in one of his Epistles the same S. Ambroise saith, This is an Angelical trade of life, 
Idem Ep. 25.  to be always praising God, by frequent prayer they endeavour to appease our Lord, and crave his favour: they keep their mind busied with reading, 
Religion an Angelical life.  and with continual labour, and living a part from the Compagny of women, they are Mothers and Nurses to one another; O what a life is this; in which there is nothing which we need to fear, and very much which we ought to Imitate!  
1. Saint Hierome hath many things to the same purpose in diverse places of his works, 
S. Hierome. Ep 1. & 34.  and some whole Epistles of this matter, as to Heliodorus, and julian. In that which he writ to Marcelia he speaketh thus; Certainly the assemblies of Virgins and Monks, 
Ep 17.  are the flower of the church, and amidst the Ecclesiastical ornaments a most precious gem. And writing to Demetrias; It is the height of an Apostolical life, 
Ep 8.  and of perfect virtue, to sell all and ●eale it among the poor, & thus lightened, and disburdened to fly up to heaven with Christ; though in this, every one be left to his free will and choice. 
An Apostolical life.  He saith if thou wilt be perfect; I do not force you, I do not command you, I propose unto you the prize, I show you the rewards, It is yours to choose whether you will be crowned in the lists, 
Matth. 19.21.  and combat. In the Acts of the Apostles while the blood of our Lord and Saviour was yet warm, and the faith of the new believers did yet boil within them, they sold their possessions and laid the price thereof at the feet of the Apostles, to show that money was to be trodden under foot; & they dealt to every one as they had need.  
12. S. Augustine in the book which he writ of the manners of the Church doth record the like praises, 
S. Augustin de moribus Eccles. c. ●1.  with an equal current of eloquence, who can choose but admire, saith he and praise those, who forsaking and contemning the allurements of this world, dwell all their life time in common together, in a most chaste & most holy manner of living: occupied in prayer, in reading & in profitable discourses; not swollen with pride; not turbulent with contention; not pale with envy; but sober, modest and quiet, they offer up a life peaceable among themselves, and most earnestly fixed in God; an offering most grateful to him, by whom they have deserved to be able to perform these things, no man possesseth any thing as his own; no man is burdensome to the rest; The father's excelling, not only in sanctity of life, but in heavenly doctrine, void of all haughtiness, provide for them whom they call their Children, 
The sweetness of a Religious life.  with a great deal of authority on their part, in commanding, and a great deal of Willingness of their subjects in obeying. And after many other praises he concludeth thus. If I should go about to extol this trade, this life, this Order, this Institution, I should not be able to perform it as it deserves, and may justly fear that men will think me to be of opinion, that it is not pleasing enough of itself at the first sight.  

S. Bernard s●r. ad Fra●. de Monte Des.  13. To these let us add S. Bernard, who though he be generally more careful to put fire into the Religious, then curious in setting forth their praises, in many places of his works hath left many things written to their Commendation, and this among the rest; 
In d●di●. Eccles. ser 4.  I know not by what name I shall more deservedly call them, Men of heaven, 
Religion the mansion house of God, and his demaine and possession.  or Angels upon earth; living on earth, but having their Conversation in Heaven. And elsewhere he calleth Religion, The castle, or fortress of God; A castle strongly defended his Territory, or peculiar possession; out of which he gathereth: great store of revenues: for so he speaketh of his Monastery at Cleruaux; (which may be fitly applied to all other such places:) Thou takest from Christ a special Castle, and place of defence, if thou deliver Cleruaux up to his enemies, out of it he receiveth every year a very good incomme, 
In paru● serm. 63.  and revenues very precious in his sight; Into this his place of defence he is wont to drive the prey which he taketh from the Contrary party in great plenty, and he reposeth great confidence in the strength thereof; For behold here those whom he hath redeemed out of the hand of the enemy, 
Psal. 106.2.  and from several country's hath gathered them together; from the East, 
Idem in Cant. c. 4.  and from the West, from the North, & from the South: But more at large and more copiously in another place the same S. Bernard doth with a special grace apply to Religious people that which in the canticles is spoken by the holy Ghost to his spouse the Church. Thy Teeth are like unto a flock of those that are shorens. The Teeth are white, saith he, and strong: they are not wrapped in flesh, they have no skin about them, they can abide nothing to come betwixt them, there is no pain to be compared with the pain of the teeth: they are covered with the lips that they may not be seen, it is a shame to show them but when we laugh: they chew meat for the whole body, and retain no savour of the meat, they are not easily wasted: they stand in order: some are above, some beneath, the lower rank stirreth, the upper rew never stirreth. 
Religious men are as the teeth in the body of the Church  I think that these Teeth are men that profess a Monastical life, who having made choice of the gainer way, and of the safer manner of living, in the body of the church which is all white, do yet appear more white, for what can be more white, than they, who avoiding all manner contagion of filth, do bewail the sins of their thoughts, as the sins of their actions: what is more strong than they who esteem tribulation their comfort, reprocah their glory, and want, as if it were abundance: They are not entangled in flesh because living in flesh and being careless of it, 
Rom. 8.  that of the Apostle agreeth fitly unto them, But you are not in the flesh but in the s●●rit. They have no skin about them, because not regarding the gay trimness of the world, & void of the racking cares thereof, they sleep & rest in peace together. 
Psal. 4.9.  They can abide nothing to stick betwixt them, because the least offence that may be is to them intolerable, when it is given either to one an other, or to the Conscience of any one amongst them, there is no pain to be compared with the pain of the teeth, because nothing is more hideous and distasteful, then murmuring and contention among Religious. They are covered with the lips that they be not seen; so are we also compassed with material walls, that we may not lie open to the eyes and untimely visits of secular people. It is unseemly to show one's teeth: unless it be perhaps sometimes when we laugh: because it is an ugly thing to see a Monk running about, from town to town, unless Charity do enforce, which covereth multituds of sins: 
1. Pet. 4.8.  for Charity is laughter, because it is cheerful, but not wanton and dissolute. The teeth chew meat, for the whole body: so the religious are appointed to pray for the whole body of the Church: to wit, for the living and for the dead. They must not taste of the meat, that is, they must not attribute any part of the glory to themselves, 
Ps. 118.  but say with the Prophet, not to us, O Lord, not to us, but to thy name give glory; They are not easily wasted; because the elder they be, the more fervent they grow: and the nearer they approach to the pri●e, they run the swifter. They stand in order: for where is any thing in good Order, if here it be not: where meat and drink, sleeping and waking, labour and rest, walking and sitting, and every thing else is appointed in number, weight, and measure? There be some above and some below: because among us there be Superiors & subjects: and those that command are so united with those that are to obey, that the higher do not disagree in any thing with the lower: The upper rank doth never stir though the lower move up and down: because though the subjects be sometimes troubled, the Prelates ought always to have a quiet mind. Like a flock of those that are shorens: How fitly are Monks resembled to a flock of sheep, that are newly shorn? Because in very deed they are shorens, not having any worldly thing left them, 
Cant. 4.  not their bodies, not their hearts as their own, which are come up from the laver or Bath: The bath is baptism: from which he may be said to ascend, that aimeth at the height of true perfection; he descendeth that gives himself to dishonest life. All bring forth twins, because they all edify their neighbour, by word and example: There is not a barren one among them, because there is not one that is unfruitful. Thus far S. Barnard.  
14. All which is seconded by Hugo the Cardinal, 
Hugo Cardinalis in Psal. 10. ●. Religion a castle.  a learned and ancient Author; discoursing upon that place of the Psalm Be unto me a God-protectour, and fortified place, for by this place of defence he understandeth Religion, as having walls of Poverty; superiors, as watchmen; towers of eminent doctrine, the trumpet of preaching, the shield of prayer, stone's also and bullets, to wit, austerity of life, and wanteth not the water of tears, and expounding the passage out of an other Psalm. 
Psal. 34.10. Religious men the bones in the body of the church.  All my bones shall say, Lord, who is like unto thee; he maketh account that Religious people are these bones of our Saviour, and of his Church, and that this is their language to God. Both because they are strong, and able to undergo whatsoever burden and labour; and will rather break, then bend from that which is right and reason: and because they uphold and bear the flesh, that is, the infirmity of the weaker sort: also because as the bone, so the Religious be void of the sense of feeling, 
Coloss. 3.5.  as being dead, and their life hidden with Christ. Moreover they are white, both within, by pureness of Conscience and without, by example of good life; They be full of morrow, to wit, with the fatness of Charity and devotion: finally as the bones lie hid with in the flesh, and are knit one to another by the sinews of man's body, so the Religious are hidden from the trouble of men, 
Eph. 4.3.  and linked together with mutual obligations, in unity of spirit and in the bond of peace.  

S Antonine p. 3. 〈◊〉. 25. c. 10. § 11.  15. Let us not leave out S. Antonine, who besides many other commendations of a Religious state, doth learnedly declare how the happiness thereof was prefigured in that famous ladder of jacob; in which the steps are no other than the exercises of reading, of meditation, of mortification, and other such like, of which religion doth consist; 
Religion the ladder of jacob.  upon this ladder the Angels do ascend, offering up these holy works to our Lord God; and do descend, to bring down in exchange, unto the Religious souls diverse gifts and benefits from their spouse. 
Genesis 23.12.  God doth lean upon the top of the ladder, because all our endeavours do rely upon his grace and assistance, and while he upholdeth them they cannot fail; He is a stay to them that ascend, and a reward to them that come happily to the end of their journey; so that the same may be said of this spiritual ladder, which was said of the ladder of jacob: here is no other, than the house of God and the gate of Heaven. To the same purpose he applieth the signification of the mount Tabor in which our Saviour Christ was transfigured; 
The Mount Thabor.  in regard that Religion is also a mount, by reason of the dignity of the state itself, 
Matth. 17.  but a mountain fault; and curdled; a mountain on which God is well pleased to inhabit; upon this mountain is Peter, whose name signifieth obedience; james, supplanting the world, 
Psal. 67.  through poverty; and john the virgin, by Chastity; All which virtues are so pleasing to God, as that in this kind of life he doth give us a trial, and taste of the eternal glory and happiness to come, and who soever shall have tasted of it, will confess in words, but much more express in deeds that it is good for us to be here.  


S. Laurentius justinian tract de Monast. Convert.  
The Praise of Religious Poverty.   16. The testimony of S. Laurence justinian is worthy to be ranked in the number, in regard of his learning & holiness; he spend's himself very much in the praise of Religion every where in his writings; & in his little treatise of monastical conversation he saith in this manner. O how blessed is that voluntary Poverty, which hath nothing in this world, and feareth nothing; because it hath laid up in heaven the treasure it had; it is always cheerful, always in plenty: and whereas it owns nothing, it hath part of all things, and turneth every incommodity to profit, no man certainly but he that hath had the trial thereof, is able to conceive how lovely, how sweet, 

Idem de Obedientia. c. 18  
Religious houses armies of spiritual soldiers.   and how precious the things be, which God bestoweth upon them, who for his love renounce themselues & all that they have. And much more he saith in the same place, but yet more fully in his book of obedience he discourseth thus. What shall I say that monasteries of Religious people, and the dwellings of the servants of God be, other then military stations, and spiritual armies of figthing men: for there in the body, and through the body, war is waged in spirit, in those dwellings I say, not visible, but invisible weapons are managed, tears of devotion, groans of compunction, sighs of pity and compassion, and of the love of God are daily poured forth, there you have incessant prayers, as so many fiery darts against our spiritual enemies: by which their strength is beaten down to the ground: their boldness quailed, their deceits discovered, and their temptations overcome, certain it is that the devotion of those servants of God, their sanctity, their concord, and unity, and whatsoever is done among them praise worthy, doth glorify God, rejoice the Angels, is beneficial to the just, and terrible to the devils: it is a safeguard to the world, and doth move sinners to penance. And doubtless with great reason, for all things which are done among them, breath sanctity, through the presence of our Lord & Saviour. Who saith, were there be two 〈◊〉 three gathered together in my name, 
Matt. ●●. 20.  there I am in the midst of them. Voluntary poverty hath there the first seat, and expresseth a resemblance of that perfection which the church did practise at the first beginning: 
Commendation of Poverty.  this verily is the native shape of ●●ue poverty, yea rather, a very great increase of treasures which cannot be taken ●●om us, belonging assuredly to them that renounce the world, and give away ●heir own, that they may serve Christ our Saviour more freely. What can be more 〈◊〉 and plentiful, I beseech you, then to have nothing, and to possess all things, to have nothing that is superfluous, and to have all things necessary for use; to con●emne their own patrimony, and to be Heirs of Christ. For the revenues of Monasteries are the treasures of our Saviour, and the devout offerings of the alms of the faithful, which cannot be taken away by pillage, nor wasted with rust, nor consumed by moths: these treasures are common to all that live in common, and are not distributed, after every one's fancy, but as necessity requireth. The rich man hath not more because he was rich, nor the great man more, by reason of his former state, but every one receiveth what is convenient for him, which is a work divine, a great commendation of grace, a deed of charity, and agreeable to nature. The body of man doth take nourishment of meat, which is divided into every member, without debate or contention, as nature itself doth think fitting. This kind of voluntary Poverty, doth free the mind from worldly cares, & make it more apt to know itself, and to dwell at home, prepared for prayer, joyful in sparing, cheerful in imparting to others, secure from danger, and well disposed for increase of all manner virtue. And this it doth so much the rather, because it doth acquit the possessor thereof from the world, it doth sever him from the turmoils of secular business, and bury him in the tomb of holy Religion. There it easeth him of the heat of carnal desires, it preserveth him from the boisterous storms of temptation, from the allurements of all sensual pleasures, from the noise of the world, from the snares of the devil, and from falling into many most enormous sins; no man certainly can declare, with what gladness that man is replenished, what peace he enjoyeth, what spiritual dainties he feeds on, with how many divine illustrations he is enlightened, who upon good advice, and inspired from heaven, doth willingly renounce the world, betake himself to a Cloistre, and serve God; aiming at no earthly thing, possessing nothing that is temporal, and reserving nothing at all to himself, 
Prerogatives o● Religious Enclosure.  that may claim any part of his love. For a Cloistre is a garden enclosed, a paradise of delights; the bedchamber of the bride; an unspotted couch; a school of virtue; the tabernacle of the covenant; the resting place of the bridegroom; the court of guard of the Army, a house of sanctity; a preserver of Chastity; the establishment of honesty; the mastership of Religion: and an excellent mirror of holy Obedience.  
17. Thomas Kempis is not to be forgotten, 

Th●● kemp. l. ●. de imit. c. 10.  
It is glorious, and sweet, and beneficial to serve God in Religion.   who was a man of known sanctity; and if we regard antiquity, he lived about two hundred years since: He saith in this manner, It is a great honour, and a very great glory to serve thee, and to despise all things for thee; for great grace shall be given to them, that shall willingly subject themselves unto thy most holy service; They shall receive most sweet comfort of the Holy Ghost, that for thy love shall renounce all carnal delights; They shall attain great freedom of mind, that for thy namesake shall enter into the narrow way, and shall have left off all care of this world. O sweet & delightful servitude of God, by which man is truly made free and holy! O sacred state of religious bondage, which maketh man equal with Angels, pleasing to God, terrible to the devil, and grateful & of great esteem to all the faithful! O service to be embraced & always wished for, by which we obtain the greatest good, & attain to that joy which never shall have end! And in a sermon which he made to his brethren, he speaketh much of the benefit of living in a Religious Congregation. 
Id. 1. par. ser. 2.  Whosoever (saith he) hath a good will, & seeketh God, shall profit much more among those that seek God, and shall abide more steadfast, for there a man is more tried and exercised in virtue, there he is often rebuked for his negligence, and drawn to more perfection by word, 
Commodities of living many Religious in a house together.  and example. There he is enforced to behold and bewail his own imperfection; there he is stirred up by the virtue of others, & instructed by the humility of others, this man's Obedience; the other man's Patience doth encourage him. There he is ashamed to be found more slow than the rest. There he hath some whom he feareth, there he hath others whom he loveth, and so profiteth by al. There he hath warning by an other that is blamed, there an others danger is an example for him to take heed by. There one is a safeguard to an other. There a man doth bear, and is borne with all, there he seeth & heareth many things by which he learneth. There those that are good, are commended, to the end they may become better. There they that are negligent are reprehended, that they may get fervour again. There a man is not suffered to be idle and dull, nor to do as he hath a mind. There be diverse offices, and many duties of charity performed: There every thing hath his time, and every one goeth about his business, as he is commanded. There the weak is supported by the stronger. There he that is in health is glad to serve our Saviour by visiting the sick. There when one faileth another supplieth his room; There the members which are whole, take care for them that are feeble. There he that is in action, laboureth for him that is at his prayers, & he that attendeth to his prayers, beggeth earnestly for him that is at his labour. There a man hath many praying for him, and protecting him at his last end against the devil. There he hath as many helps as he hath compagnions'. Thus far this Author, and much more he saith, which whosoever listeth may read in the book itself.  
18. S. Basil the great shall shut up these two ranks of Greek and Latin Fathers; whom I have reserved for the last place; 
S. Basil Con●●●t. Mon. c. 19  because both his Authority is most weighty, and his Commendation most copious and eloquent, which alone might be sufficient to prove what we intent, though we should say nothing else. He therefore treating of the commodities of a Monastical life hath this discourse. First those that embrace this fellowship and this manner of living in common, return to the happiness to which we were bred by nature; for I do esteem, saith he, this living in common to be a most perfect thing; from which all propriety is debarred, and the possession of any thing in private. It is free from all dissension, trouble and debate; and on the other side all things are common in it: their minds, their wills, their bodies, all things necessary, 
The Commendation of a Religious life, in regard of unity and Concord.  meat, and drink, and clothing. They serve one God in common, their Exercises of piety are in common; their salvation, their conflict, their labours, their rewards, and crowns are common. In it many are one, and one is not alone, but in many. What can rightly be thought of equal value with this Institution? What can be said to be more blessed, or imagined more feat than this concord, unity, & knot of friendship. What can be devised more trim and dainty than this mutual temper of minds and fashions among themselves. That men picked out of diverse nations and countries should so grow as it were together in one, through the perfect similitude of their manners and trade of life, that they seem but one soul ●n many bodies, or contrariwise many bodies made instruments of one soul and mind. Among these people, he that is of a weak constitution of body, hath the hearts of many that feel part with him of his infirmity. And he that is sick in mind, finds many at hand by whom he may be cured, and by whose help he is continually comforted. By equal right and power over one an other, they are each others servants, and masters, and enjoying an invincible freedom, they serve one an other with great subjection, which neither necessity hath violently brought upon them to their grief, nor unexpected Chance▪ but through their own free will they have undergone it with joy; for Charity, hath made them of freemen subject to one an other, and preserveth them notwithstanding in their entire liberty. Certainly God, when he made us in the beginning, would have us such; and for this end he created us. And doubtless whosoever do live after this manner, do restore that ancient happiness to the former lustre, covering the fault of our first father. For if the union of our Nature had not been dissolved by sin, there had been no debate, nor disagreement, nor war among men. 
It is an imitation of our Saviour and his disciples.  These are the true followers of our Saviour, and do truly express the life which he led among us. For as he when he had assembled the number of his disciples, had all things in common, and made himself common and familiar unto them: so they (if they observe justly the rules of their Institute) obeying their superior, do imitate the manner of living of Christ and his Apostles. And preserving peace & quiet of mind; they resemble the life of Angels. 
And of the Angels.  For among the Angels there is no strife, no contention, no debate, but every one in particular enjoyeth all things which the rest have, and have notwithstanding their own riches wholly to themselves. For the riches of the Angels are not such as can be bounded with limit, or being divided among many, must necessarily fall less to every one's share; but their riches are spiritual, and consist in the mind; and therefore all are equally enriched with the goods, which every one hath whole and entire to himself; because all do possess them with out grudge, or contradiction. For the Contemplation of the sovereign Good, and the assured Comprehention of all virtue, is the Angel's treasure, and is of that nature that though every one have perfect possession thereof to himself, all of them may nevertheless perfectly enjoy it. So with out doubt the lovers of true devotion, having their mind fixed not upon earthly, but upon heavenly things, with a kind of Indivisible division of those heavenly riches among themselues, all & every one are partakers of them. Moreover resembling the form & fashion of a heavenly life & state, through the commendable manner of living which they lead in common, they foretaste the future happiness of the kingdom which is provided for us. They observe Povertie most strictly, accounting nothing their own, but all things common to al. 
They bring corrupted ●●ture to the former 〈◊〉.  They give us plainly to understand how many & how great benefits our Saviour Christ hath obtained for us, through the flesh which he took upon him; in that they reconcile to God & restore to the former integrity, as much as lieth in them, humane nature mangled by sin, & torn into a thousand pieces. For the chief business which our Saviour did in flesh, was to renew the nature of man, & bring it home to God, and to the state it had at first; & curing the wounds thereof, to make it sound & perfect as it was before, & as a most skilful physician, to knit up again with wholesome plasters, & other remedies, the body dismembered & broken.  
19 I do not speak these things to the end, to amplify in words the virtues & privileges of those that have embraced this manner of living in common, or to make them greater than they are, for my Eloquence is not so rare, as to add lustre to things which of themselves are noble & excellent. But rather I may justly fear lest the brightness which they have, be obscured by my slender style; my Intention is only to show the worth of this noble trade of life, and the esteem which we ought to have of it: for what is there in comparison of this, which ought not justly seem far inferior unto it. They have one father among them, imitating the heavenly father. And they are many sons, striving to surpass one another in all kind of loving duty towards their Master and Teacher. They are many sons living peaceably together, 
They resemble that union and communication which is betwixt God the Father, and God the Son.  and by their honest and virtuous behaviour they give their father great contentment, neither do they ground this love and friendship upon any band of Nature; but Reason (a tie more strong than nature) is the beginner and fosterer of this Conjunction, and the band of the holy Ghost doth hold them together. What likeness can there be found upon earth sufficient to express the greatness of this noble Institution? Upon earth there is none. We must mount up to heaven. The Heavenly Father is impassable, not moved with any perturbation of mind. This father resembling that unmoveablenes, doth win all unto him by the strength of Reason. The birth of that Heavenly Son is void of all corruption; here also the study of Incorruption hath bred these adoptive children, all things in heaven are linked together by Charity: Charity also hath coupled these together. Certainly the devil dares never come against this fowr-square Army, 
They are terrible to the di●els  knowing that he shall never be able to make his party good against so many Champions: in regard they are all so well provided against him and fight so close; fencing themselves round with abundance of spirit, & fight so thick under their Targatts of mutual Charity, that they easily resist all his attempt. Of these David doth sing in his Psalms; 
Psal. 131.  Behold how good and how pleasant it is for Brothers to dwell together; Where by the word (Good) he expresseth the uprightness of their life, by the word (Pleasant) he declareth the joy and gladness which the concord and union of their minds doth breed: wherefore they that follow this kind of life, do seem to me to express in themselves all heavenly and perfect virtue. Thus far S. Basile, with whom I will conclude the sayings of the Ancient Fathers concerning a Religious life in general; For in the Course of this treatise, I shall have occasion to bring many other sentences of theirs in commendation of every part and fruit of Religion in their proper places.   

What Religion is; and how many kinds of Happiness it doth contain. CHAP. II.  
IN the examining and discussing of any thing by way of argument and dispute, it is usual and necessary, first of all to define and determine, what the thing is, about which we are to reason. Which I will also observe in this treatise of Religion, to the end we may not mistake the matter. And because this very thing will turn to the Commendation of this holy course of life. Many therefore not unfitly, are wont to declare the nature of Religion by the name which it beareth. And some derive it from the Latin word (Relego) which signifieth to read, 
The derivation of the word Religion.  or to gather again. Meaning that those were first called Religions, who did often and carefully handle the things which pertain to the service of God, and as it were gather them up together, and often repeat and read them. Others, and among them chiefly S. Austin, derive it from the word (Religo) which signifieth to tie again, 
Cit de na. Decr. l. 2. Isid. 10. Elym●. c. 17.  or to bind fast; which S. Thomas declaring more at large in the beginning of the book which he writ against the Opposers of Religion, discourseth in this manner. We are said to hind a thing, when we tie it to an other, so that it hath not liberty to budge a way from it: but when we bind it again and again to the same thing, 
S. Aug. de vera Religcir. ●●inem.  to which it was bound before, and from which it began to shrink, than we say we have bound it fast again. Now every Creature was first in God, before it was any thing in itself, and when it proceeded from God by Creation, it was in a manner set a loof from him. Wherefore they that are able, 
S. Thomas 5. ●mpugnātes Relig.  and have capacity thereunto, must return and conjoin themselves to God again. And the first bond wherewith man is joined and fastened to God, i● Faith, which faith expresseth the duty it owes to God by external Action. Whence it is, that the prime and head-signification of this word (Religion) betokeneth all service, & Ceremony by which in the true worship of God, we outwardly testify our faith. But because God is not worshipped by Faith alone, nor by the external Acts of Faith only, but by other virtues, as by Hope: and Charity; therefore the Actions of these virtues also are sometimes termed Acts of Religion, as to visit the fatherless and widows in tribulation, as S. james speaketh. The first signification therefore of Religion is common to all Christians; 
jacob. 2.27.  for all of them in that profession which they make at the very first in baptism, do bind themselves to God and vow to perform their duty towards him. The later signification, expressing a tie, or obligation to some particular works of Charity, is proper and peculiar to certain people, obliged to some certain actions of virtue belonging to the Contemplative, or to the Active life. And look how many several kinds there be of these virtuous works, so many several Religions there may be erected for the performance of them. Thus saith S. Thomas in that place. But you will better conceive his meaning, if first you understand, that the word (Religion) signifieth two things. Sometimes it is taken for one particular kind of virtue, 
The word Religion signifieth two things.  which we call Religion, and is a branch of justice: sometimes it is taken, for a state of life, grounded in this virtue. Wherefore if we once know the nature, and quality of the virtue itself, we shall the easier come to understand what the state of Religion is.  
2. It is therefore a general doctrine among Divines, 
The office of Religion as it is a particular virtue.  that the peculiar office of Religion, as a particular virtue, is to worship God duly, and as his infinite Majesty doth deserve, in regard of his Excellency and preeminency above all things and for the great benefits which we have received and daily receive at his hands. Which worship being partly inward in the mind, and partly consisting of outward duties, as Ceremonies, Rites, Sacrifices and the like. The virtue of Religion comprehends them both, and performeth both the inward and the outward Actions. And they that employ themselves in these kinds of services towards God, & bestow themselves wholly in them, are called Religious. But to the End that a Man may be said to be in a Religious Estate, it is moreover necessary, that he give himself so wholly to the works of divine worship, that he rid himself of all things that may hinder him in the performance of them. For as S. Thomas saith well in the same place, as in baptism we die to sin, so by taking upon us a Religious state, we die moreover to the world, as much as concerneth that particular work which every one doth profess. And as the life of the soul is taken from it by sin; so the service of God is hindered by worldly business. Which the Apostle doth give to understand, when he saith: 
2. Tim. 2.4.  No man being a soldier to God, entangleth himself in secular business.  
3. Now if we rightly consider, three things especially in this world, hinder us in the service of God. 
Three things hinder us in the service of God.  Riches; Bodily pleasures; (not only those which are unlawful, and forbidden by the Commandments of God, for they are sinful) but those pleasures also which are bounded with wedlock: and lastly our Own Will; which (if we give it the reyns) grows unruly and carry's us to all ambitious pretences of superiority and command. Wherefore they that will truly and wholly dedicate themselves to God, must bar themselves of these three things: to wit, of Riches, by Poverty; of Wedlock, by Chastity; and curb the unruliness of their will, by Obedience. And thus we come to have the description of Religion, which we sought for all this while. For, Religion is a state, 
What Religion is as it is a State.  which endeavoureth to Christian perfection, by the three vows of Poverty, Chastity, and Obedience. The Christian perfection of which here we speak, without all doubt consisteth in the love of God, casting aside the love of ourselves, and of all Creatures. It is said therefore that this state endeavoureth to this perfection, 
It endeavoureth to perfection.  and not, that it hath already got it, or that it is already perfect; because it is not required that a Religious man should be already perfect, or have attained absolute perfection; neither doth he make profession of that: but he satisfieth his obligation, if he aspire and endeavour to it. Finally it is called a State, because it is necessary, that this kind of life be constant, firm, perpetual, immoveable. 
And is a state.  For it is one thing to be perfect, and another thing to be in State of perfection. All may be perfect through virtue, & Innocence, & holiness of life. To be in a State, something else is required. As if one man serve an other man, and do it of his own good will, how much, and how long he pleaseth, (as one friend is wont to wait upon an other;) this doth not alter his state, and condition. But if a man give himself wholly over for ever, and bind himself unto another; this alter's his estate; because of a freeman, he makes himself a bondman: so the works of piety and Religion of themselves, do not make a Religious man; but it is moreover required, 
Two things put a man in Relig. estate Vo●●.  first, that by promise and express vow he oblige himself to those works, so that from thence forth he is not free to leave them, nor so much as to have a mind to leave them when he wil Secondly this obligation must be undertaken, not for some certain determinate time; but for one's whole life time: and when these two things meet together, it is called a State, by reason of the firmness and stability of it. 
and Perpetuity.  Which firmness and stability is made much more strong, and of greater weight by the Authority and Approbation of the Pope; who as in all other things so in confirming and establishing Religious Institutions▪ 
In a course approved by the Pope.  beareth that sway, which beseemeth the person of him, who is Christ's-vicar upon earth, with power to bind in heaven whatsoever he shall bind on earth. His approbation therefore is so necessary, that without it, the very vows which we make have not that force, 
Religions are not to be founded without the Pope's 〈◊〉  and strength which otherwise they have; and the Religion itself is not truly a Religion; not that the Pope's Approbation doth pertain to the intrinsical nature of Religion▪ (For that is grounded upon the Institution of our Saviour Christ, and the evangelical doctrine) but because, as in several manners of living, which are ●●uerily brought in, as men are severally disposed, there may be many errors and 〈…〉 and avoid these errors, it hath been profitably provided, that no man should found a Religious order without consent & Approbation of the Sea Apostolic. And for any thing we find recorded, S. Dominick, & S. Francis (each of them severally for their own order) were the first that presented a draught of their Institute, to Pope Innocent the third, to be approved by him: & this they did rather volontarily & of their own accord then compelled by law or Camnon. And it happening about the time of the Council of Lateran it was decreed in that Council, that ever after it should be generally practised; which decree not many years after was revived by Gregory the tenth, in the Council of Lions, & so brought in use in the whole Church.  
4. By this therefore which hath been said, we may discover somewhat, not only what a Religious life is, but the beauty & excellency thereof, it being the prime of so great a virtue, as is Religion. 
Religion the greatest of Moral virtues.  For Religion though it be reckoned among those which we call Moral virtues, yet of Moral virtues, it is the greatest, and though the immediate object of it, be not God, but the inward, or outward actions of man, which it undertaketh to direct, fashion, and train up in the service of God; it hath notwithstanding so near relation to that infinite Majesty, that it is the very next of all others to the three Theological virtues, which by believing, hoping, and loving, do as it were plunge and steep themselves immediately in God. Now the flower of Religion, is Sanctity. 
S. Thomas 1.2. q 71. Sanctity the flower of Religion, & Queen of Moral virtues.  The Office of which virtue, as Divines deliver, is to present our souls to God, pure, innocent, unspotted, and to consecrate the same, with all the powers and forces thereof unto him. And it is of that extent and command, that all other virtues, are as it were subjects and servants to wait, and attend upon it; Some by purifying our wills, some by enlightening our understanding, some by restraining our lustful desires. The effects also, & daughters of it, (as S. Thomas calls them,) are most noble, to wit, prayer & devotion. Prayer brings us into familiarity with God & into his bosom; devotion makes us ready, and cheerful in all things belonging to his service; which cheerfulness & fervour, 
Ibidem.  is of so great consequence, that when it is wanting, our duty is less grateful to him, and whensoever it doth attend our works, they are far more commendable, & more accepted. This virtue of Religion therefore, which is so noble, together with the goodly attendance, which it hath, as we have said, is the very soul and life of a Religious Estate; and carrieth with it so great a port & esteem, that in comparison of it, the very Religion & piety of other states doth not seem Religion; not that in very deed it is not, but because it is so far beneath the other, and so dimmed with the brightness of it, that it is hardly seen. And the very name doth testify as much, for commonly when we name Religion, no man thinks we speak of the particular virtue, but of a Religious Estate; and none else are vulgarly called Religious, but such as have forsaken the world, and bound themselves by vow to the perpetual service of God.  
5. Whereas therefore Aristotle doth teach (and it is certain) that there be three things which we call Good, 
Aristotle 2. Eph. ●.  wherewith men are taken, and esteem themselves happy; 
Three things which ●●ad men's 〈◊〉 in this life.  to wit, that which is Profitable, that which is Honest and worthy, and thirdly that which is Pleasant and delightful. It is my intent in this treatise to show that these three kinds of Happiness do jointly meet in Religious Estate; whereas it is very seldom seen that in any other thing of this world they should be found all three. For commonly wholesome things are bitter and distasteful; things pleasant and delicious, 
Spiritual things perfectly Good.  are not usually so worthy and honest: but all spiritual things have all Happiness in them, as being every way good. Yet, as it is well observed by Aristotle, great heed is to be taken, whether that which we call Good and happy, be so indeed, or only seem to be so: 
Id. ● Eph. 1.  for oftimes a thing seems good to many, because themselves be il disposed. As for example; to be lanced, is really good and profitable for one that hath a disease, but it is not good for one that is in health: contrariwise a cup of cold water is pleasing to a feverish body, 
Id. 3. Eph. 2.  and seems good; but if he be sound of his wits, he will not take it. The same we may observe in our inward behaviour. 
Seeming Happiness deceitful.  For if we ask a Heathen, or an Infidel; nay if we ask a Christian Man that is Covetous or Ambitious, what he thinks profitable, or honourable, or delightful, each of them will answer according as they are affected; one will name Riches and Wealth, an other will reckon Honour and Preferment. Wherefore as Artificers and buylders of houses, so we must measure and judge of these things by rule and square, that we fall not into great errors in abusing of so main consequence: And certainly the End of every thing is that, which must be the Rule of all other things that have relation unto it; and by it we must make an estimate of them. What is therefore the End why all men have received their souls, their bodies, and whatsoever else, and to which they are carried, by secret instinct of nature, and apparent motions of grace? Without all doubt this End is Bliss, and Eternal bliss. For there is no true bliss, or happiness but that which is Eternal, all things therefore which offer themselves unto us under the title of being good or happy, 
By our End we must measure 〈◊〉 Happi●nesse in this life.  must be squared by this End. And those that conduce to the compassing of Eternal Happiness, are truly and solidly profitable. Those again which present unto us a taste of those high delights and unspeakable joys, are truly pleasant and delicious. Finally those are truly Honourable and glorious, which come nearest to that only true and everlasting glory, and be in a manner coupled with it. So that whosoever believeth assuredly, as all Christians do, that there is an other life, in which Eternal Happiness is to be enjoyed by man, and that this Happiness is the End for which he was created, must needs make it the utmost bound of his desires and thoughts, as the only profitable, only delightful, only glorious, and consequently the only good and happy thing. Therefore in this ensuing treatise, I shall make it plain that all this, is largely and abundantly contained in a Religious Estate.   

THAT MAN IS NOT HIS own but Gods, and this for seven Causes. CHAP. III.  
OF the three kinds of Happiness, contained in a Religious Estate; of which I am to treat, the utility, or Profitableness thereof cometh first to hand. For though there be commonly less doubt made of it, then of the other two, and all do willingly grant that Religion is full of all Spiritual commodities: yet it will not be amiss to entreat particularly of this very thing, as being in itself very great and singular: and which alone may be sufficient to move any living soul. For we see that in earthly things the regard of temporal profit is so strong and forcible, that it makes a man adventure upon businesses very painful and laborious, and stoop many times very low of much greater force therefore must all spiritual profit be, which as I said, is the only true and solid profit, not short and temporal, but eternal; yet not withstanding to make it more certain, and clear we must establish one thing, as the groundwork, not only of this present discourse, but of all Christian perfection; to wit, 
All men by nature are bound to serve God.  that all men are bred, and borne by nature vassals, and servants of our great God, and as such, must in all things, great and little, observe his will, and be wholly at his Command. For it is a general error, which hath possessed the hearts of most men, not only of them that be wicked and debaushed, but of many that live not ill, to think, that it is enough to abstain from sin; that for the rest, they may choose what course of life they list, and in the course they are, live as they list, and take their pleasure, and ease: contrary to which error, we must lay this strong foundation, as I said before, that it is the very nature of man to be under one true, and Liege-lord; to wit, the infinite, and sovereign power of God. Whose will and appointment must be the rule and model of our life, of all our Actions, & of whatsoever is in us; and if we will live as we ought, we must not stir neither hand not foot but at his direction. 
S. August. tract. 29. 〈…〉.  For as S. Augustin saith in a certain place fitly to this purpose; What is more thine own, than thyself, yet what is less thine own then thyself, if that which thou art, be another's? And as a labouring beast, belonge's wholly to the man that owes it; so man, much more belonge's to God, and is all and wholly his, Wherefore as we say it is a good beast, which runne's not restily of his own head, but moue's as his Master guide's him; so man behaue's himself like himself, when he attends upon God with will and work, and referre's himself wholly unto him. Contrariwise, when forgetting God, he think's to be his own Master, and will dispose of himself, and his actions as he pleaseth, turning sail to every wind of his own will; it is a far greater deformity in him, then for a resty jade to kick and run away from his Master. Which holy Scripture doth fitly express saying: 
job 11.12.  That the vain man is li●ted up with pride, 
S. Greg. 10. mor. c. 10.  and thinks himself borne as free, as the colt of a wild ass. Upon which passage S. Gregory doth discourse in this mannuer, it is necessary that man should be restrained in all his courses by order of discipline, and as a labouring beast, serve under the collar, held in by the decrees eternal. He therefore that covets to do whatsoever his unbridled licentiousness leads him unto, what other thing doth he desire, then to be like the colt of a wild Ass, shaking off the collar of discipline, that he may wildly rove through the woods of his lust. And a little beneath. Therefore if we will not be like the colt of a wild Ass, we must first of all search out the signs of that which is secretly appointed by God, that what soever we have a mind unto, we keep ourselves under the collar of supernal government; & fulfil our desires so much the more profitably for to live, by how much we tread down the desires of this life, against our own inclination. This servitude and bondage of man, which is so natural and so profitable, S. Augustin did well understand; and doth learnedly express it, showing that this was the very cause why God did lay a command upon our first Fathers in Paradise, and such a command as we read he did: to wit, to put in ure his just and lawful authority over him & over us all who were then contained in his loins. 
S. August. in Psal. 10. Can● 2.  For, saith he, if Adam should have reasoned thus with himself; if this tree be good, why may I not touch it? if it be naught, what doth it in Paradise? God would have answered, the tree is good, I will not have thee touch it, why? Because I am Lord, thou art a servant. This is all the reason, 
Idem de 〈◊〉. ad literam. lib. 8. c. 6.  if it seem little reason to thee, thou scornest to be a servant, and enlarging himself elsewhere upon the same subject, he saith. It was necessary that man being under God, should in some thing be restrained, that his subjection and obedience, might be the virtue by which he should deserve the good will of his Lord and Master; which Obedience I may justly call the only virtue in bred in every reasonable Creature, living under the command of God. And that the first and greatest of all vices, bringing us by swelling pride to ruin, is to covet to do as we list, which vice is called disobedience: man therefore, unless he had been commanded something, would not have known that he had a Lord and Master; wherefore to conclude to our purpose, it is certain that if men will do that which is their duty, they must order their life wholly dependent of God, and tie themselves to his conduct and government, and be as attentive to observe his pleasure, 
Ps 122.2.  as the eyes of servants be in the hands of their Masters, and the eyes of the handmaid in the hands of her mistress, as the Psalmist speaketh. Which is the same which S. Gregory saith in his morals, 
S. Greg. mor. ●●. c. 16.  as dutiful servants have their eye always upon their master's countenance, to understand readily and perform that which is commanded, so do the thoughts of the just wait diligently upon almighty God. Neither is it any wonder that S. Gregory and others of the holy Fathers should speak in this manner, 
Plato in phae●●.  seeing Plato, a heathen Philosopher, writeth that man is one of the freeholds of God; whence he concludeth that if a man should kill himself, he should wrong God, for thou also saith he if one of thy bondslaves should make away himself without thy privity and consent, wouldst thou not be angry at it? Wherefore seeing it doth so highly import us to understand that God is truly our Lord, 
Amos 9.6.  of whom the Prophet saith, our Lord is his name, and that we are his servants, it will be necess●●ie for us to consider the causes of this subjection, which doth lay us, and all that we have so low at his feet. And of many causes which might perhaps be ●ound out, we will briefly touch seven, which at this present do occur.  

God hath command over us by reason of the excellency of his nature.  2. The first cause is, the Nobleness and excellency of the divine nature; specially compared wi●h ours which is so infirm, abject, and almost nothing, the strength of which reason I will show out of Aristotle, because the light of nature will give the more light unto it. He therefore proveth that one man may be justly subject to an other man by nature; because in all things which have their being by concourse of many together, and make as it were a community, some of them must necessarily and by nature command, 
 and others be subject; which he showeth through all kind of things. For among those which have no life; in mixtures, some one element doth still prevail, as fire, in things which are light; earth, in things which are heavy, and so in others; in living things; the soul hath naturally command over the body, and doth govern and move it, as it will; And in the soul itself, if besides the natural inclination, it have also reason, as it is in man, without doubt reason, as more noble, doth by right command, and so by consequence man, among all other living things, and among men the masculine sex, as being the better and the worthier of the two. 
Sovereignty is naturally due to that which is most excellent.  From which discourse ●e concludeth, that sovereignty is naturally due to whosoever among the rest is most excellent. As when we see a man that is well made, and of an excellent feature, we say he is worthy to command, which if it be true in regard of the body, much more in regard of the mind, though the beauty of the mind be not so easily discovered, as that of the body: Thus far is the discourse of Aristotle, where moreover he declareth▪ what he meaneth by servile condition and subjection, for he saith that a Servant, or Slave, is to his Ma●ster, as a part of any thing, is to the whole, or as a thing that is in possession, is to the possessor, for as a part is not properly for itself, but for the whole of which it is part and that which is in possession, is not for itself, but for the possessor; so is a servant his ●aillers, all that he is: seeing therefore as we find by the discourse of this Philosopher, there may be so great a distance betwixt creatures themselves, that some by nature, may justly be subject to other some among them; how far true shall this be found to be, betwixt God and man? For a man, though he excel an●ther man never so much, yet the difference can be but in wit, or learning, or wisdom, or some such accidental quality, and though it be never so great, yet it is limited, and not so very great neither: for in nature there is no difference, every one of us having a body of the same earth, and a soul of like substance to an others soul: 
God infinitely more Excellent then man.  But if we compare man with God, wisdom with wisdom, goodness with goodness, power with power, essence with essence: The distance is not only infinite, but whatsoever man hath, he hath it from God, and of himself he hath nothing: and therefore we may truly say of him that in very deed he hath nothing, or rather, is nothing. Which is the reason, 
1. Tim. 6▪ 15.  why Saint Paul saith, that God is only Powerful, and our Saviour himself, that he is only good; and job, 
Matth 19.17.  that he only is. And if the whole globe of the earth, as is taught in the Mathematics, compared with the circumference of the heavens, be, 
job 23.  but as it were a point, notwithstanding that the earth of itself, is of so great a bulk, and the heavens have their limits; what shall we think that one man can be, being compared with that infinity, and that Endless Bottom, in which so many perfections without number, 
Ps. 144. ●.  and measure, do concur, which the Prophet David with great reason admiring saith: Great is our Lord, and exceedingly to be praised, and of his greatness there is no end.  
3. The second Cause why we are not our own, 
God created us which is a 2. cause of our subjection.  but Gods, is because we are made and created by him. For among men, though there be many reasons, and grounds, whereupon we pretend right to the things of this world; as by purchase, or deed of gift, and the like; yet no Title can be greater, or more just, then when ourselves have made a thing, or begot it. Who doth plant a vineyard; saith S. Paul, and doth not ca●e of the 〈◊〉 thereof; 
1. Cor. 9.7.  so whoever buildeth a house, or maketh a chest or any other work, with his own hands, by all right, and law, is Lord of that work, which is of much greater force in God: for by art no man can do more, then give an outward shape to a thing, he cannot produce the nature itself, or substance of iron, or wood, or any thing else, nor so much as come near unto it; but God, 
Conf. ●.  as S. Augustin speaketh, toucheth the very bottom of all things, that is, the very utmost, & farthest degree of their Essence, by his strength & power; and so we find that upon this title chiefly, holy Scripture doth ground the sovereignty of God, 
Ps. 23.  The earth is our Lords saith the Psalm, & the fullness thereof, the sea● his, & as it were yielding the reason thereof, he addeth, & he made it, & 〈◊〉 hands have sounded the dry land, 
Ps. 94.5. Ps. 88.12.  And again, The heavens are thine, and the earth is 〈◊〉, thou has● sounded the circle of the earth, and the fullness thereof. Thine is the day, and thine is the night, thou hast made the dawning of the day, 
Ps. 7●. 16.  and the Sun. And in an other place Mine are all the wild beasts of the woods, 
Ps 49.10.  the beasts upon the ●●●s, and the oxen; ●yne is gold, 
Agg. ●. ●.  and mine is silver: finally in the book of job, God doth challenge to himself all things together, 
〈…〉 Act. 17.24.  all things under heaven are mine. And Saint Paul in his learned sermon preached at Athens. God who made the world, and all things that are in it, he being Lord of heaven and earth, etc. wherefore seeing he hath sovereignty over all other things because he hath made them all, why should he not also have it over men? Of whom he speaketh in this manner, by his Prophet Ezechiel. Behold all the souls are mine, 
 as the soul of the Father, so the soul of the son is mine: S. Bernard therefore in one of his sermons doth with great reason conclude from this ground among the rest, 
S Bernard 〈…〉.  that we are wholly gods who made us, as a work is the workman's. Behold he is at hand who made heaven and earth. He is thy Creator, thou art his creature; he thy Lord, thou his servant; he the potter, thou the vessel, Thou art debtor therefore to him of all that thou art, from whom thou hast all. To that Lord I say, who hath made thee, and hath done well for thee, and doth serve thee with the course of the stars, and with season of the air, and the fruifulnes of the earth, and the plentifulness of fruits. Him certainly thou must serve with all thy force, and hartyest strength, lest he behold thee with an angry eye, and despise thee, and consume thee for ever. And to like purpose S. Laurence justinian writeth thus. Reason bred in the very bowels of our souls, 
S ●auren●e Iu●●●n lib. de ●●bed. ●. 5  doth call upon every one to subject himself to him, from whom he hath his being: for the nature of man being created by God, and persisting actually in being through him, by necessary course of equity and justice, stands obliged to the commands of his Creator. For though man have received benefits with out number for which he is bound to serve God, yet this only thing of itself doth oblige him to obedience even unto death, that from him he hath his being. Finally Lactantius saith also well to the matter which we have in hand. 
Lact●ntius 〈◊〉 c 27.  It is apparent that there is no hope of life left to man, unless he acknowledge God, casting off all former vanities, and wretched error, and serve him, renouncing this transitory life, & inform himself in the practice of Religion by the principles of justice.. For this is the condition with which we are borne, that we perform our Just & bounden duty to God that made us. That we acknowledge him alone and follow him. This is the bond of piety with which we are obliged, and bound to God, and from which Religion itself hath the name which it beareth.  

The ●. Reason of subjection is because God is our end.  4. The third cause of this subjection, is taken from the End of man; for when soever any thing is made for an other thing, it must necessarily be subject to that for which it was made, and be in a kind of servitude and bondage unto it, and as I may say, always Eyeing it. Now certainly nothing is, or can be the End of man, but God himself. For which reason it is said of him in the Apocalips, That he is the Beginning and the End, 
Apoc. ●. 17.  the first and the last; for as the cover is made for the target or shield, the scabbard for the sword, and a house is made for dwelling, so man is made for God only; 
S Thomas ●. & q. 44. ar. 4.  for as S. Thomas saith, the cause efficient and the effect, must of necessity have one & the same end proposed unto them, as the end of the house which is built; and the end which the builder had in building it are all one; seeing therefore God (who through the excellence of his nature standeth not in need of any good which is not himself) cannot be moved to any work for any other cause but for himself, it doth necessarily follow, that man also can have no other end but God, which may be gathered even out of the natural order which we see in all things: for all are so connexed, and hang so one upon an other, that the inferior & less perfect, are made for the use & service of those that are more noble and perfect. And so Aristotle understood that the plants and all things▪ that have life, 
Arist. 1.  but not sense, 
Pol. c. 5.  were made for those that have life and sense; and these again for man. And among these such as are tame and domestic, were made for food, and other uses; the wild and savage: partly for food, partly for the help of man in other things, 
S Bernard in Ps. qui habitat serm. 13.  as for clothing and other necessaries. But S. Bernard doth much better declare this matter; for he saith that all these things were given us by God for some commodity of ours; some for sustenance, some for Instruction, & some for dilight & pleasure; many of them for our correction: By the example therefore and subjection of these things we may learn (and so we must,) how obedient & subject we ought to be to God; for we see that oxenplough the ground for us, with xcessive labour, and reap no profit by it; horses serve us for carriages, for journeys, for razes; dogs ●unt carefully for us, and guard our houses and persons; and are so ready at command that with a word they make after the game, and with a word they are checked, and hollowed off, as no servant can be more ready and observant. And the same may be said of many more in their several kinds.  
5. Neither shall we need to think ourselves less happy and fortunate, 
To be Created for God and not for ourselves is more noble.  or less noble, because we are not borne for ourselves but for an other. For indeed it were something to be stood upon, if we must have had this relation to some ot●er Creature like ourselves stinted and limited in perfection: but seeing it is God upon whom we depend, who is perfection so high and so Infinite, it is so far from diminishing our honour and dignity, that it doth greatly ennoble it. For, as we said a little before, God having no other End but himself, man by this means is advanced to the participation of this End, which is a thing exceeding Honourable; neither can there happen to man any thing more glorious than it. And it is the more to be prized, in regard that the nobleness of this End doth bring with it many great helps for the attaining of it. 
S. Augustin de doct.  To which purpose S. Augustin discourseth most excellently: for having distinguished all things into two ranks, and placed one rank of such things as we may enjoy, 
Ch●st 〈◊〉 c. 21.  and rest in, as in our End; and an other rank of those which we must use as means, he advanceth this question, whether a man ought to enjoy or use himself. And answers it truly and solidly, that it is no way lawful for a man to love himself for himself; For, saith he, if he love himself for himself, he doth not place himself in God. But looking back upon himself, is returned to a thing that is variable; and therefore if he enjoy himself, it is with some defect and imperfection; for he is far better when he cleaveth wholly, to that unchangeable good. Then when he relents from it towards himself.  
6. The fourth cause of our subjection to God, 
The 4 cause of subjection is the Commandment of love.  is the Command which he hath laid upon us, not of serving, or fearing or obeying him, but of Loving him, which one thing comprehendeth all the rest. And as it is a thing more proper and natural to Goodness and love, to desire to be loved, rather than served: so it maketh a soul more perfectly subject to God; the wedge and strength of this subjection being love; and it is a kind of servitude far more pleasant and more noble. That it doth more perfectly subject a man to God, is apparent, because by love, the parties do not only mutually dwell one within an other, according to that saying of S. john; 
1. joh. 4.16.  He that remaineth in Charity, remaineth in God and God in him; But they pass out of themselves into the party whom they love, and are in that ravishment or exstasis, 
S. Dionys● l. de di●. no●. c. 4.  of which S. Denys speaketh, and of which the common saying is, that the soul is rather where it loveth, than where it liveth; Now if the lo●● of an inferior good, 
〈◊〉. 22. 3●.  be of this force and strength, what shall the love of that Ins●nite and sovereign good, be able to work in our souls? especially a love so perfect, 
S. B●s●● ●● Ps. 12.  as God requireth of us, to wit, that we love him, with our whole hart, our whole soul, and our whole strength. for'rs as S. Basili saith, when he requireth the whole love, he alloweth no division to be made among other things; for how much love thou spendest in these inferior things, so much thou must needs take away from the whole And S. Augustin saith in like manner, 
S. August 〈…〉 22.  that the love of God, which in this precept is so strictly commanded, cannot endure that the least stream thereof, should be derived any other way, or the current towards him diminished. 
S Greg 10 ●or. ●. 4.  S. Gregory also doth say very well. You must observe that when holy scripture commandeth that God should be loved, it doth not only set down wherewith, but instructeth us also, how much we should love him, adding fronthy whole hart etc. To the end certainly that whoseever desireth perfectly to perform his pleasure, leave nothing of himself to himself; Whereby it is ployne that to the end our love may be such as it ought, and as is required by express command, it must deliver us wholly and perfectly to God, and put him in full and absolute possession of us, or rather transfuse; and as it were empty us wholly into him. All which is done by love.  

The fifth cause is our Redemption.  7. A fifth cause most just and weighty, why we owe ourselves to God, may be, because we are bound unto him as slaves bought by the penny; so S. Paul saith of us: You are not your own, for you art bought with a great price. This great price is Christ himself, given wholly for us, as S. Bernard saith, and wholly laid out for our uses. And certainly never was man in service of another man, 
1. Cor. 19 ●0.  so properly his; as the Eternal Word of God, 
S. Bernard form. 3. the cir. c. 5.  and Image of his Father, is properly ours, given, granted, and delivered to all men in general, and severally to ●uery one. At which Esay the Prophet rejoicing in spirit, saith. A little one is borne unto us; and S. Paul. He spared not his own Son, 
E●a. 9.6.  but deliured him up for us all, 
Rom. ●. 32.  and in an other place, who gave himself for us. 
T●t 2 14.  And our Lord and Saviour saith of himself, God hath so loved the world, that he gave his only begotten Son. 
joh 3.16.  Wherefore if God may justly challenge us all & wholly for his own, in regard he hath created us; because he doth but demand that soul, and that body of us, which he bestowed on us. Certainly with much greater reason he may now challenge us by title of purchase, since Christ himself hath paid down for us no less price, than his own life and soul, so incomparabily worthy and precious; and withal, his body, and his divine person. Worthily therefore doth S. Chry●ost●me say in one of his homilies, 
S. joh. Chrys. h●m. ●● in ●. Cor.  seeing we live by the death of Christ we must certainly live to him by whom we live. Where we may think, that this holy man repeateth twice, one and the self same thing, in diverse words; but if we weigh them well, we shall find that he means two several things: first that we live by Christ. Secondly that he died for our sakes; either of them severally considered, is sufficient to obligeus wholly unto him. But put them both together, 
S Bernard de qua r. a●●.  and every one may easily see how the reckoning is inflamed. S. Bernard in his sermon of the fourfold debt, teckoneth this obligation to be the first. First thou ar● debtor to God of thy whole life, because he hath given his life for thine, and endured most bitter torments, that thou mightst not endure the eternal. And ●●uing spoken many things to the same effect, he concludeth thus, when therefore I shall have given him all that I am, and all that I can do, is not all this, like a little s●arre in comparison of the Sun, like a drop of water in comparison of a main river; as a pebble stone, to a huge mountain; as one grain to a heap of corn? 
●●em ●pist. 4●. 1  And in an other place speaking of the same thing he saith. To omit all other things; for this reason alone he may justly lay claim to our life; because he gave his own life for it; let not man therefore live to himself, but to him who died for him, for to whose use should I with greater reason live, then to his without whose death I had not lived? And for whom can I live with greater commodity to myself, then for him who hath promised everlasting life? For whom had I more need to live, then for him that threateneth eternal fire? Finally we may easily discover how fully this Saint was persuaded of this truth, & how deeply he had it printed in him, by an other discourse of his more large to the same effect, where he saith most excellently. 
Idem de diligen●● 〈◊〉.  If I be debtor of myself wholly in regard he hath made me, what shall I give him for repairing me, and repairing me after so strange a manner? For I was not so easily mended, as I was easily made. For he that made me with one only word, once spoken, in repairing me again spoke many things, and wrought wondrous things, and endured most painful things, and not only painful things, but things most unworthy. By his first work he gave me myself. In his second work, he bestowed himself upon me; and bestowing himself, he restored me to myself. Being given therefore and restored, I owe myself for myself, and am twice debtor of myself. What shall I render unto God now for himself? For though I could a thousand times lay down myself, what am I to God?  
8. The sixth Cause, 
The sixth ca●se of our servitude is that eternal reward.  and none of the least, is the infinite reward which is prepared for us, to wit, the eternal and immortal glory of Heaven: In which as S. Augustin speaketh, God will possess us and be possessed by us, and all for us. Seing therefore he is there to possess us, and this is one part of our eternal happiness, let us now begin to enjoy this happiness, and suffer ourselves to be possessed by him, yea seeing we are there to possess him, 
S August. in Psal. 32.  let it not seem heavy unto us to purchase the possession of so great a good, and so inestimable, at so small and so easy a rate, as is the gift of ourselves, for this in effect is the price which God hath sot upon that glory and felicity, and upon those eternal joys, that we give ourselves in purchase of them. 
S. August. sir 6. de ver. dom.  Which argument is expressly handled by S. Augustine in these words. How much doth a man strive when death aproacheth, flying, hiding himself, giving all that he hath to redeem himself; taking thought, enduring torment and trouble, putting himself under the hands of physicians, and doing all that is in the power of man to do? 
How men strive to shun temporal death, and are careless of eternal.  If therefore we endeavour with so great pains, so great labour, cost, diligence, watchfulness, and care, that we may live but a little longer, how great should our endeavours be that we may live eternally? And if we esteem them wise, who labour by all possible means, to differre their death to live a few days, that they may not lose a few days; what fools are they that live so that they lose the everlasting day? give me therefore a man that lives in perfect health, and hath nothing to suffer, if any body should assure him that he might be always so, and that this happy state might never decay; how would he rejoice and bristle up himself, and be as it were out of himself for joy, to be, without pain, without grief, without end of living. And if God should promise us this only which I have now said, and which I have expressed in such words as I am able, what would we not give for it, if it were to be sold? What would we not give, that it were to be bought? Would it be enough to give all that thou hast, if thou hadst the world in possession? Yet it is put to sale; buy it if thou wilt, trouble not thyself over much to find some great matter to give for it, in regard of that at which it is valued; it is valued at what thou hast; be not solicitous what thou hast, but what thou art. The thing is worth as much as thou art; give thyself and thou shalt have it. But thou wilt say, I am naught, he will not take me. By giving thyself to him, thou becomest good: This is to be good, to put thyself upon his assurance and promise: Thus far S. Augustine. And by it we may conclude, that the heavenly kingdom is not to be purchased but by giving ourselves wholly & sincerely to our Lord God, and what soever we are, 
How the gift of ourselves to God is in a manner infinite.  or can do. And it stands with great reason, because infinite reward deserveth infinite labour and pains; which is not in our power to take; it is reason therefore we should lay down for it as much as we have; which will be in a manner infinite; if we bestow it willingly with out end or limit.  

The 7. cause of subjection is our promise in Baptism.  9 But all the obligations of which I have hitherto spoken; are partly natural, and partly put upon us by the will and commandment of God, without our consent or agreement: There remaineth yet one obligation more, which of our own accord, and willingly we have undergone. For as kings take an oath of allegiance from their vassals, which otherwise be their lawful and dutiful subjects, to bind them moreover by their own promise and covenant; so God though by right of Creation and purchase, and by so many other titles as I have reckoned, he do hold us bound and subject unto him; hath obliged us not withstanding by our own sworne-promise, to the end our ●idelitie may be more constant by so great a tie. This Oath is taken when by baptism we are regenerate; in which we are not only enrolled among the soldiers of Christ, 
Gal. 4.5. Two parts of this promise▪  but as the Apostle speaketh, we receive the Adoption of sons. And it hath two parts: In the one we protest and vow to forsake & renounce the world, and the allurements thereof: In the other, we yield and consecrate ourselves to God alone, not to be his soldiers only, or his sons, as I said before, but to be true and lively members in the body of Christ, and as such, to live no more for ourselves, and for our own ends and occasions, but for that body of his, and for the rest of the members thereof.  

S. Cypr. l 1. epi●●●. S. Greg. H●. 29. in Euang. S. Ambr. 1. de Sacra  10. Of the first part of this obligation S. Cyprian, S. Gregory, S. Ambrose, and others of the holy Fathers, do make often mention. S. Ambrose, hath this Excellent saying. When he did ask thee; dost thou renounce the devil and his works? What didst thou answer? I do renounce them; dost thou renounce the world and ●he pleasures thereof? I do renounce them: Be mindful what thou sayedst, and forget not at any time the tenure of thy obligation. If thou givest a bill of thy hand to an other man, thou art bound to take his money: thou standest obliged, and the lender will hold thee to it if thou fly back, and there thou art held by thy own obligation; consider where thou didst make thy promise, and to whom. 
S Aug de 〈◊〉. and 〈◊〉 l. 6. c. 4.  Thou dist see the Churchman, but he was the minister of Christ. Thy bill therefore is registered in heaven, & not in earth. Thou hast renounced the world, thou hast renounced these present things, be therefore careful, & always remember thy promise. And S. August. you have openly promised to renounce the enemy. When you said, I do renounce: This promise was taken & enrolled by God & his Angels, not by men. Renounce him, not by word only, but in behaviour; not with the sound of your mouth, but with the deeds of your life; not with the voice of your lips, but with words of your works.  
11. Of the second part of this obligation Saint Paul doth often speak in his Epistles; as to the Galathians. 
Gall. ●. 27.  As many of you as have been baptised, have put on Christ. And farther to the Colossians. You are dead, and your life is hiden with Christ in God. 
Col 3.3.  To which purpose also S. Gregory Nazianzen saith. To speak in one word; the force and power of baptism is nothing else, but a certain covenant made with God of a second and better life, 
S. Greg. Naz. or. 40.  of a more pure and more noble trade of l●uing. Wherefore we must always stand in great awe, and keep a watchful guard over our souls, that we be not found to have made a deceitful promise, for seeing we call God to witness to establish the covenants made between man and man, much more ought we to take heed that we break not the covenant, which we make with God himself, as it is a thing in itself of more danger and damage. S. Bernard also applieth that place of the psalm: 
S. Bernard 5. quis ascendit in meant. D.  neither hath he sworn deceitfully to his Neighbour, to the promise which we make in Baptism, and saith. This is the profession of Christian Faith, that whosoever liveth, live not for himself, but for him first who died for all; then for his Neighbour, for whom he also died.  
12. Wherefore (to come to some conclusion upon so many and so forcible reasons,) if we will show ourselves men of reason and judgement, in the business of our salvation, we must necessarily acknowledge a great and weighty obligation towards God lying upon us. And I do not see in what words the force and efficacy thereof can be better impressed, then with that affectionate speech of the Prophet David: 
Ps 21.31.  And my soul shall live to him. For every man must make this account, and throughly persuade himself, that he is not his own, but Gods; and whatsoever he hath, whatsoever he is worth, whatsoever he is; he is not to serve himself with it, and his own ends, but to serve God alone, with continual relation unto him. And must be content always to be at his command; and be glad of it. And with all the forces and inclinations of his mind and will, continually labour that his thoughts, actions, endeavours, and himself wholly, be conformable to the will and pleasure of almighty God. Finally he must always bear in mind, and express in behaviour that which the holy Prophet conceived when he said, I am made like a labouring beast before thee, 
Ps. 72.23.  and I am always with thee. Thou hast held my right hand, and hast lead me in thy wil Neither must we think much to be as obedient and serviceable to God, 
It is not much that we should be as obedient to God as beasts are to man.  as beasts are to man. For if man require service of beasts which he made not; and over which he hath no title and right of command, but by pre-eminence of Nature: how greatly must we be subject and obedient to God, seeing by nature we are so far beneath him, and moreover were created by him, and stand obliged by so many other titles? And seeing our case is thus, let us also consider how grievous a fault it must needs be (nay how many faults there would be in one) if a man should covet to be his own Master, and dispose of his life and actions as he list himself, not according to the will of God; but live in manner as if he had no dependence at all of him, and were wholly of himself, and at his own dispose. For what can be more unseemly, or more disordered, than a servant that will be still flinging out of doors, and shunning his Master's house; or when he is within doors, regards not his Master's pleasure? Of which kind of people, 
Hier. 2.20.  that saying, or rather check of the Prophet, may be fitly spoken: Thou hast broken the yoke, thou hast burst a sunder the band, thou hast said, I will not serve. And what torment & punishment doth attend upon these crimes? 
S. Bern. ser 20. in Can●.  Certainly that which S. Bernard hath left written in a certain treatise, saying: He is manifestly worthy to die, 
He that lives not for God, lives for nothing.  who refuseth to live to thee o Lord jesus; & he is dead: & whosoever is not wise to thee, is a fool: and he that taketh care to be for any other end, but for thee, is to no end, & is nothing. Thou o God hast made all things for thyself, & he that will be for himself and not for thee among all things beginneth to be nothing. And S. Cyprian. 
S. Cyprian cont. demetr.  Thou requirest service from thy servant, and being thyself a man, 
We serve not God, & are angry if men serve not us.  thou forcest another man to obey thee; and though both he, and thou be borne into this world after one manner, & both of necessity be to die, your bodies be framed of the self same matter, your souls be of like substance; unless thy service be done to thy mind, unless thou be obeyed out of hand, thou art stern, & severely urgest thy service; thou beatest thy servant, ofttimes thou dost punish & torment him with hunger, & thirst; & wretch that thou art, dost not acknowledge thy Lord, thy God; and yet will exercise thy authority thus over men?   

THAT A MAN DOTH DISCHARGE THIS debt by giving himself wholly to God in a Religious Estate. CHAP. FOUR  
IF this which we have said be true (as it is most certainly true) concerning so great a debt, & a debt of so many titles which man doth owe to God, doubtless there lieth upon every one of us a heavy charge and care; and our case is somewhat fearful. For we have not to do with a creditor that is a man like ourselves, whose hands we may escape, but with one from whom we can no ways hide ourselves, but that he is able at all times to lay us up in prison, Till we have paid the very utmost farthing. Neither is it a slender offence, or one single error, if we deny ourselves to God, whose we are all, and wholly: but it containeth as many errors in it, as there be titles for which God may justly claim us. Wherefore if our Lord God would take the extremity of the law against us, 
Ma●. 5.26.  & call us in a severe Audit to give a straight account of our whole receipt, no man at all would be found sufficient. For though we lay down all before him (which some man would think to be very much) we can lay it down but once; 
No man is able, to pay God so much as he owe's him.  & yet all that which we have, is not once only due unto him: so that when in this manner we should part with ourselves wholly, & with our whole substance, it would perhaps discharge some one single bill, and scarce that, but all the rest would remain unansweared. Whereupon S. Bernard hath this witty saying Wilt thou have two sons in law by one daughter? as the proverb goes: Though here thou look'st to have many more than two. And yet the goodness of God doth bear it, and not only bear it, but is glad of it, and doth hold himself not only satisfied, 
S. Bernard ser. de quadrup. debito.  but well dealt with all, if we once offer ourselves wholly unto him: which is performed in a Religious Estate. For in it all Religious wholly, together with their whole endeavours, are perfectly given and consecrate to the eternal Majesty, no part or parcel reserved. It presenteth to God their bodies, & mouldeth them so by Chastity, and perpetual Continence, that they are apt for whatsoever good Impression, and ready for all the Commands of God, as having their loins girt, according to the will of our Saviour (which S. Gregory applieth to Chastine, 
Luc 11.15. S. Gregory. Hom. 13. in Euang.  & being like to men waiting the coming of their Master, it offereth up their souls, which is a gift of far greater value. Their life is wholly devoted to the service of God, all their works, all their endeavours, their watchings, labours & pains, their whole practice; finally, that which of all the rest is the chiefest, their will (the Lady & Mistress over all that is in man) is dedicated unto him: & by it consequently the whole man delivered into his possession, and this by virtue of Obedience, of which they make a vow, binding themselves thereby not to desire any thing contrary to the will of God. 
To be subject to God is our greater happiness.  Wherefore as it is the greatest happiness and benefit that can fall to man, to be wholly subject to God and wholly his, our whole salvation consisting in it; so this very thing is best and most assuredly performed in Religion: in which every one resigning his own will & choice, doth deliver it into the hands of God, in presence of an other man, that the resignation thereof may be the more certain and evident: And it is the common doctrine of all Divines concerning the nature and force of Religion, that it doth contain a true and perfect delivery of ourselves to God, by solemn vow, so S. Thomas among the rest doth learnedly teach, 
S. Thomas 4 sert. d. ●7. q. 2. p. 3.  and declares it by this Example. As when a man hath promised a piece of land, and afterwards makes delivery of seizing in, or having promised to be an others servant, and putt himself presently into his service: The same doth he that giveth himself in this life to God, 
S. August. in Ps. 131.  delivering also possession of himself into his service. And S. Augustine upon those words of the Psalm. As he hath swarm to our Lord, hath vowed to the God of jacob: doth discourse to the same purpose. What do we vow, saith he, but to be the Temples of God. For we can offer nothing to God, more acceptable, then if we say unto him, with the Prophet Esay, 
Es 26 ●u●●ae ●0.  Possess us. S. Chrisostome also in that eloquent epistle to Theodore the Monk, hath this excellent saying? Now then hast nothing in thee at all, 
S. ●h. Chrysost ep ad ●h●od.  at thine own dispose; since thou hast begun to serve under so great a Commander: For if the wife hath not power over her own body, but the Husband, much more those that live rather to Christ our Saviour, then to themselves, cannot have the disposal of their own bodies. 
C. 2. c. 3.  And Cassian saith, that this was one of the chief documents in which the ancient monks did instruct, and most carefully practise their followers. That they should not only renounce their external goods, and possessions, but withal acknowledge that they were no more Masters of themselves, 
S Basile Ep. ad Canon. S. Bernard de praecep & disp.  but had given over, & lost all power & command in that kind with whom S. Basil agreeth, saying: that every Religious body must fully persuade himself that he is no more his own man, but bound by God a slave to his brethren, & must make no other account, but behave himself accordingly. S. Bern. is of the same opinion, 
Idem in Ps. qui heb. 1.8.  and confirms it out of the rule of S. Benet. that a Religious man hath not power over his own body. And explicating that passage of the Psal. yet with thy eyes thou shalt see, 
The eyes of Religious persons are not their own.  he saith that this hath relation to the time to come, to wit, when we shall come to the sight of God, in which God will restore us to ourselves again, & will moreover give himself unto us: for here every Religious man must acknowledge, & think with himself that his eyes be not his own, but Gods; since by the vows of Religion, renouncing his own will, he hath engaged in his service every limb he hath: & consequently that it is a most grievous sacrilege to usurp to himself, and his own pleasure, the members which he hath thus dedicated to God, to bestow them upon occasions of vanity, curiosity, and worldy business.  
3. It is therefore certain, that by a Religious course, and chiefly by the vows of Religion, we have this benefit, that God doth fully and perfectly possess us, 
God doth perfectly possess us, by the vows of Religion.  because we give ourselves so wholly over unto him, that he may without contradiction or resistance serve himself of us, where, and when, and in what he will, as we may serve ourselves of any thing which we hold in our hand, to send us, or to call us back; or to stay us; to set us high or low; to weald & turn us every way, to alter; and place, and fashion us as his own. And to declare these spiritual, and hidden things by known examples and humane practice, as among men the dominion and propriety of things is often by course of law made over from one to another, so it fale out betwixt us, and God: for by our own voluntary consent and act, we forgo the right which we had over ourselves, and make it over to God. And as in worldly businesses there be certain usual forms of bargaining, established by statute or custom, which when they are once passed, they cannot be recalled, or broken off again: as a deed of gift, or bargain of sale, or exchange, so if we well consider, we shall find all this in the contract between God & us. 
First by way of Trust.  For S. Paul calls it a depositum, or thing committed to an others keeping and trust, for thus he glories. I know whom I have believed, and am certain, that he is able to keep that which I have committed unto him until that day, 
2. Tim. 1.12  a just judge. For as in such a bargain of trust, we commit a thing to an other to keep for a time, and then to restore it, so we deprive ourselves of our own will and freedom for a short time, to wit, till we enter into the joy of our Lord: and then we receive our will & freedom again, wholly and with large increase, and God doth restore us to ourselves as S. Bernard speaketh. Yet because in such a bargain of trust, where we commit a thing to an others keeping, 
S. Bern in qui hab. ser. 8.  the right is still wholly in ourselves, & in a Religious course we give ourselves so to God, as we reserve nothing at all of ourselves. It may perhaps be more properly termed a deed of gift; because willingly, and of our own accord we resign ourselves wholly to God: 
Secondly by deed of Gift.  or a bargain of sale; because we do not give ourselves away altogether without present, or future gain & profit, but we take for our gift a great recompense & reward, to wit, everlasting bliss. Or finally it may be called a bargain by way of exchange: because at the very time of the bargain, 
Or bargain of sale.  as we give ourselves t● God, so God give's himself to us, though in a far unequal proportion. For God is exchanged for man, mortal for immortal, a wretched and poor thing, for him that is infinite & most glorious! But it suit's most with my conceit, 
Or by Exchange.  that that which passeth betwixt a Religious man and God should be called Restitution, and me thinks it hath the nature and necessity of it. For we restore to God that which is his: 
Or by way of Restitution.  and whereas in all equity and justice we must make Restitution to another man, of any thing that we have of his▪ and if we do it not, we are guilty of theft. far more necessary is it, and more according to justice that we should not keep back from God, what we have of his, not one minute of time, for it would not be bare theft, but most enormous sacrilege. 
S. Hilary in Matth. 23.  Whereupon S. Hylary saith, our Saviour biddeth us restore to Caesar, that which is Caesar's, and to God, the things which are his: our body, our soul o●● will; for these things we have originally from him, & have them improved by him, therefore it is just and reasonable, that every one should restore themselves wholly to him. From whom they must needs remember they have received their beginning & their increase. S. Augustine speaketh to the same effect, 
S. Aug in Ps. 115.  & moreover saith, that this Restitution is most perfectly acted in the Religious vows, which thing falleth fit for our purpose. In very deed, saith he, if one do mark well what he voweth to God, what vows he ●ēdreth, let him vow himself, let him tender himself too God. This is that which is exacted, this we owe, looking upon the Coin, our Lord saith: Render to Caesar, that which is Caesar's, & to God, that which is Gods. The Image of Caesar must be restored to Caesar, the Image of God must be restored to God. Since therefore all Religious people have so perfectly performed this obligation, there can be no doubt but the promise of almighty God doth belong unto them, which we find in the Prophet Esaye. 
Es. 43 1.  And now our Lord saith these things, 
God may say that Religious people are properly his.  who hath created thee jacob, and framed thee Israel; do not fear, because I have redeemed thee, and have called thee by thy name. Thou art mine. A sweet and pleasant name, (Thou art mine) A name more glorious and more lofty, than all the titles of honour, and state, and descent, which this world can boast of. Which the same Prophet considering in an other place, weighing the Honour of those that glory in that they belong to God, saith: This man will say I am our Lords, and another will call in the name of jacob: and this man will write with his hand to our Lord; and in name will be likened to Israel. 
Es. 44.5.  For they who take their oath, or vow, to Christ, may be said to writ with their hand; and they do most truly take upon them the names of jacob or Israel, who on the one side by their wisdom have supplanted the wicked enemies, and on the other side have made God himself stoop unto them by their Humility.  
4. This is therefore, 
Two commodities of delivering ourselves too God.  among the large commodities of a Religious Estate, as it were the ground and foundation: that it doth deliver over to God the perfect possession of us, which for two reasons is very profitable unto us. First because, by one and the same Act; and as it were with one piece of money, we discharge all those debts, which I formerly mentioned. Secondly because this very thing, to wit, that we belong to God, and are written as it were in the Inventory of his personal estate, doth bring us profit without measure, and furnisheth our souls with all kind of commodities. Which S. Augustine doth expressly teach, 
S. Aug in Ps. 34.  saying. Let him possess thee, that thou mayst possess him. Thou shalt be his farm, thou shalt be his house; He possesseth thee, to benefit thee; He is possessed by thee, to improve thee; is it for any benefit he expects from thee? For I have said to our Lord; 
Ps. 15.2.  Thou art my God, because thou hast not need of my goods. Neither must we wonder at this which I have said; 
Aristotle 1. Pol. 3.  since Aristotle himself teacheth, and very truly, that wheresoever things are so composed by nature, that there be some higher than others, and some lower, nothing can be more beneficial to the Inferior, 
The Inferior is perfected by subjection to the superior.  then to be perfectly subject to them which are of a higher degree. For the body must needs suffer very much, if it be not governed by the soul; and much more, if the soul do leave it. And in the soul itself, the Will or natural Inclination must needs be out of order, unless Reason direct it. It is better also for all other living creatures, and beasts, to be subject to man, than otherwise, because by him they are preserved, and have sustenance and breeding from him. Seeing therefore a creature which by Nature is subject to an other creature, is perfected by that subjection, and by the contrary receiveth damage; the same must necessarily fall out by far greater reason betwixt a creature and God, & by perfect subjection unto him, it must needs be advanced. chose, when it shall, like the prodigal child, covet to have in private possession the goods and substance belonging unto it, and the state or portion severed from God, our common Father and Lord of all, it cannot but suffer great damage and loss, by want, famine, shame, dishonour and all other infortunate accidents.   

OF THE SNARES AND OCCASIONS of sin which are in the world. CHAP. V.  
LET us call to remembrance the ground and foundation of which we spoke before, to wit, the general obligation in which all men stand bound to serve God, & to give themselves wholly unto him. And having now found out how fully this obligation is discharged by a Religious course of life, let us consider in a worldly course, how far it is from being fulfilled. That reflecting upon the miserable and dangerous state of a secular life, we may better understand the happiness of Religion. For a man that hath been in the goal, shut up close prisoner, the more misery he hath endured, doth value the benefit of his delivery at a truer rate; so though there be very many things in Religion, which do highly commend it, yet the wretched calamities of this world being well considered, from which Religion doth free us, will make it the more desired. And these calamities and miseries be not hard to be discovered; they are no hidden and secret thing, but palpable, and open to the eye of every one that hath any eyes to see with. Yet b●cause it usually happeneth, that the greater the spiritual evil is, the less it is known and felt, because the nature of it is to dull the mind, and inveigle it with many errors. We will propound some considerations, which touching upon our very senses, may make us the more capable of the truth.  

The world a steep and slippery place.  2. Let us therefore frame somewhat to our Imagination, a place very steep and slippery, where a man that is strong, and able, can hardly hold his feet. And in this place, one that is even eaten-out with long and grievous sickness, and wholly decayed, and round about him, not one, but very many strong, and able men pressing upon him to make him fall: such an one therefore, standing in such a place, how is it possible he should save himself? This steep and slippery place is the world; all men, are those that be so sick and feeble, the devils, bear us this great malice, and are thus diligent to work us mischief. The world without doubt is steep and slippery, and there is nothing more hard in it, then to keep ourselves from falling, and from falling so dangerously, that if once our footing begin to fail, we can hardly recover ourselves, but shall run down headlong, and bruise ourselves upon all the Rocks of vices. The steepness and slipperines of this world, be the occasions which are in it, and allurements to sin, which are not to be reckoned. Yet if we will sum them up in brief, they may be drawn to these three heads. First the corrupt & wicked laws wh●ch it hath, quite contrary to all order and goodness. Secondly the examples of allewd & naughty life, which are so familiar in it. And lastly the infinite occasions of sin, like so many snares and ginues to entrap the poor souls of men.  
3. The world hath his laws and fashions, 
The laws of the world.  which he will have kept by his followers; of the wickedness & malice whereof, it is enough to say, that they are quite contrary to the holy and wholesome laws of our Saviour Christ. The laws of Christ are these. Blessed be the poor: Blessed be those that mourn, if one strick thee on the one cheek, turn him the other; our will is to be denied; our Cross taken up; and many such like. Now what be the decrees, and Axioms of the world? They are not far to seek? Nothing is more miserable, and more base than Poverty, nothing happier than to be Rich. We must cherish and pamper our body. We must give ourselves to all kinds of pleasure. It is a brave thing to bear sway among others, to rule & command; to be commended, & spoken-of by every body. If any body give me an ill word, I must beat him. If he strike me. I must kill him. These laws are every where in force. These are the rules of every bodies actions, thoughts, and life. This is the talk at home & abroad, in public & in private meetings, in every one's mouth & at the end of every business. No sooner are children put to school, but under their Parents, & their Master's elbow they learn these principles, & are seazoned betimes with all wicked and erroneous persuasions of this nature, in those tender years when their minds are most pliable, & most apt to take impression. But much more when they come abroad into the world, and begin to converse with others; for then the common voice of every body, praising & practising that which is vicious, doth carry them into all corruption. 
It is hard to strive against the stream.  For when a man see's temporal & earthly things so extolled; riches & honour, & all kind of vanity so violently sought after, who is there so wise or stout, as to be able withstand the current of all men's judgements, speeches and persuasions, and not to suffer himself to be borne down with the stream? For as a man that is in a narrow passage, if he me●te a throng of people & strive against it, is more likely to be carried away in the crowd, then to break through: so when the minds, & opinions, & behaviour of a great many do Side all one way, it is far easier, and more usual to be carried away with the most, then to be able to bear the brunt, and overcome them. For first our understanding is overruled by the judgement of so many that think, & speak, & do otherwise; that we can hardly conceive how we can do am sse in taking the way, which is so common, and so trodden by every body. Or if a man be so wise, & so happy, as to conceive his error, yet he hath à greater combat in hand, to bring himself to do that which he knows to be better for him. For presently he shall be set upon by whole troops of the contrary party, labouring with all might & main to put him off from it, either by persuasion, and entreaty, or by scoffs & taunts, or by i'll language behind his back. And man (alas) at such an exigent, is so weak & poor, that he cannot tell how to make light of what men think & say of him; which hath been the ruin of many, who at first have entered courageously upon a course of virtue, but have been most miserably & shamefully driven back from it, by the speech of the vulgar, and sometimes by their friends, sometimes by their enemy's tongues. These therefore, be the laws of the world, which he doth strive to maintain with all his strength and power.  
3 The second point of danger in the world is evil Example, 

Evil Example.  
And the danger of it.   For when the disorders of other men, their wanton behaviour, & dishonesties, their vanities, & Ambitions, & other sins, are continually before our eyes, though we know them to be sins, yet they have a special kind of force to pervert us. Either because we begin to think it less evil, in regard it is so general, and so familiarly practised by most men: or because it is natural to every man, to do that willingly and with ease, which he see's an other do before him that is like himself. But whatsoever the reason be, it is certain that there is scarce to be found a quicker spur to sin, 
Ecc●. 13.1.  then evil example, which the wise man showeth by this similitude: He that toucheth pitch shallbe defiled by it, 
S. H●erome Ep. 7.  and he that commoneth with the proud, will put on pride.. And S. Hierome confirmeth it saying: It is an easy thing to imitate that which is evil, and whose virtues thou canst not follow, thou wilt quickly express their vices. And S. Cyprian saith: 
S. Cypr. de Spect.  Our eyes and our ears are to be carefully" guarded, for we are quickly enured in the vice to which we harken. For the nature of man is of itself viciously enough inclined, what then will become of it, when it shallbe provoked by axample? And he that falls of his own accord, what will he do when he is thrust along? For as in corporal things fire, is bred by fire and every thing is engendered by another like unto it: so in our souls, pride breeds pride, and anger breeds anger, and every vice is apt to breed the like vice in an others mind, even though the party know not, or think not of it; oftentimes also though he strive against it: for stealing into our mind by our cares and eyes by little and little, they cleave so fast, that they cannot choose but make some impression in it, and alter it for the worse. By which we may see how dangerous a thing it is to live in the world, where ill examples are so rife, and do so continually beat upon our souls, and provoke them to sin. And for this cause S. Augustine doth so violently bewail his youth spent in the streets of Babylon, (as he calls it) where hearing his equals and compagnions', and those that were of the same age, and standing with him, boasting their wickedness, and glorying the more, 
S. Aug. 2. Con. c. 3. & 9  the greater villainies they did commit; he was provoked not only to do the like, but to feign things which he had not done, that he might not be accounted the more abject, because he was the more innocent, and held to be more base, because he was more chaste: for evil compagnie is too too contagious a thing, when we hear people say, let us go; let us do it; and it is a shame not to be quite shameless.  

Occasions of sin and the multitude of them.  3. The third Rock with which we meet in this world, be the Occasions of sin, which hedge a man in on every side, and it is not possible to avoid them, because they are in every thing which we handle, and in every business we deal in. To which purpose S. Leo saith very well, that all things are full of danger, all things full of snares. 
S. Leo. ser. 5. ● quadrag.  Lustful desires do egg us on; pleasures way-laye us. Gaine speaks us fair. Loss affrights us. A slandering tongue is bitter. And those that praise us, say not always true. And in an other place: There is treachery in the open field of Riches, and treachery in the strayts of Poverty. Those fill us with pride, these fill us with complaints. Health is a temptation, sickness is a temptation. That makes us careless, this makes us sad, and pensive. There is a snare in security, there is a snare in fear; and the matter is not great, whether the mind that is earthly given, 
Idem s. 11.  be overtaken with joy or with care: for the disease is alike, whether a man rejoice in vain pleasure, or groan under heavy vexation. And this shall suffice concerning the danger of the place. 
The weakness of man.  Now let us see the weakness and infirmity of man, that dwelleth in a place so full of danger and peril: which though every one do sufficiently feel in himself by experience, yet holy Scripture doth put us often in mind of it, 
Gen. 8.21.  and lay it before our eyes very plainly. As when it saith: 
Rom. 7.23  the sense and thought of man's hart are prone to evil from his youth: & S. Paul. I see an other law in my members, 
Rom. 7.23.  fight against the law of my mind, and bringing it into captivity under the law of sin. This law of the members is no other than the force of concupiscence, which taking the bit in her mouth, will not only not be governed by reason, as it ought, but doth often times bring it into captivity and thraldom, and lay it at the foot of her lust: which corruption and disorder is so much the more greevons, and more full of danger, because it is not bred in us of late days, and by easy and slight means, but it is an evil which we have contracted from the beginning, by the disobedience of our first father, and is so inbred in our nature that together with nature we receive the corruption thereof, and are forced whether we will, or no, to carry it about us, and do moreover increase it daily by our own offences and wickedness.  
4. S. Thomas doth teach that by that one sin which originally in Adam we all committed, 
Four wounds received by Original sin.  we received in our soul and body four most grievous wounds, which by every sin which afterwards we commit, wax green again, and become far more fowl and worse. The first wound is Ignorance, which extinguishing the light of Prudence and wisdom, 
S. Tho. 1.2. q. 85 & 2.  doth almost put out the eye of Reason: The second wound is Malice, which bereaving the will of the gift of justice, doth thrust it always upon that which is evil: The third and fourth are Infirmity and Concupiscence which with joint forces setting upon all the inclinations of our mind, do on the one side disarm it of Fortitude and make us shrink away from every thing that is hard; and strip us on the other side of the virtue of Temperance, leading us as beasts into all kind of sensual pleasures, without shame or moderation. Therefore S. Augustin saith well that the state of our souls, 
S Aug. de veb Ap. ●. 3.  (even after they have been washed by baptism) is fitly expressed in the parable of him that falling into the hands of thieves, was wounded with many wounds, and left half dead. For though he were carried into the Stable, or Inn (by which, he saith, is meant the Church) though wine and oil, as present and powerful remedies, were poured into his wounds, yet still he is faint and feeble, and will always be so, 
Rom. 7.24.  till as S. Paul desired, he be delivered from this body of death. What therefore will become of this man that is so weak, and but half alive, if in a place so disaduantagious, he be set upon by his enemy; and an enemy so strong, that no power on earth can be compared with him, 
job 41.24. 1. Pet. 5.8.  an enemy that ranget l●ke a roaring Lion, and is so; not only in fierceness and cruelty, but in strength and ability? Who can be able to withstand his shock, and rage, & defend himself from his poisoned weapons? Especially seeing, as Cassian, 
Cassian. col. 2.6.11.  saith, it is not one enemy which we have to do with, but there be troops without number armed against every one of us, & all of them merciless, and savage, and thirsting nothing but our hart blood and ruin. Besides that they are invisible and cannot be discovered before hand, or avoided, which makes the event of this spiritual battle the more disastrous to every body; the enemies charge being so hot, and the encounter so secret; besides that he is very expert in all kinds of stratagems; 
S. Bernard s. the 7 frag.  and sometimes as S. Bernard speaketh, he sets upon us and pursue's us with open war, and hotly: sometimes with secret sallies, and deceitfully, but always most maliciously and cruelly; and who is able (saith he) I do no say to overcome; but to withstand these things?  
5. Such is therefore the miserable state of this world, 
1. Io. 51.9.  which S. john the Apostle expresseth in few words, but divinely saying, The World is all glaced in Naughtiness, as if he had said, it is so full of vice and corruption, so desperately naught and perished, that it hath not one patch whole & sound in it. 
The wickedness of this world.  But now if we will not only imagine what it is but see it with our very eyes; and take a thorough view of it, to the end we be not deceived with the outward face it beareth; we must mount up into that high watch tower of which S. Cyprian maketh mention, & from thence behold it from end to end, 
S. Cyprian l. 2. ep. 2.  & consider with attention the several employments of men in this world; their cares, their thoughts, their businesses, their curiosities, their labours, their speeches, their traffic and all their doings; for thus cretainly we shall discover, so much vanity in all their idle toys, so much filth in all their sin & wickedness, such villainy & uncleanness among them, that the man must be a very stock and stone, without sense or feeling, that doth not tremble at it: & shall prove himself to have very little or no care at all of his own salvation, if presently he resolve not to withdraw himself, out of so miserable, and stinking, and abominable receit of beasts & Monsters, into some place of more safety & quiet. Which deluge of evils (for so I may call it) covering the face of the whole earth, though it be elegantly and copiously described by S. Cyprian, yet I will rather take the description thereof out of holy scripture; the authority of it being of far greater weight. 
Ps. 12.2.  This is therefore the thing which the Prophet David in the psalms doth set forth with great Majesty of words, saying. Our lord hath looked down from heaven to see, if there be any that understand and seek after God. And addeth what that divine eye beheld among men: They have all declined, they are alltogeather made unprofitable, there is none that doth good, no not so much as one. Who would believe it that in so great a number, in a world so packed together with men, there should not one be found that did well, but that God himself by the mouth of the Prophet hath delivered it? But his meaning is that though there be some good among many evil, they are so few, that he chose to say, there was not so much as one: Then he rehearseth▪ and detesteth their wickedness. Their throat is an open sepulchre; they have dealt deceitfully with their tongues: The venom of the Aspis is under their lips, their mouths are full of cursing and bitterness! And thus they offend with their tongue. What are their works? Their feet are swift to sheed blood, contrition, and infelicity in their ways, and they have not known the ways of peace. Finally he concludeth with that which is as it were the Total of all evils. The fear of God is not before their eyes: The Prophet Osee speaketh also to the same effect. 
Osee 4.1.  There is no truth, there is no mercy. There is not the knowledge of God on earth. Cursing, and lying, & theft and adultery have overflown, and blood hath touched blood. 
H●●r 5.1.  The like hath Hieremit the Prophet, who bringeth God speaking in this manner. Go round the ways of Jerusalem, lock and consider, and seek in the streets thereof, whether you can find a man doing justice, and seeking after fidelity, and I will be merciful unto him And lest a man might think that one only kind, or race of men, stood thus guilty of all wickedness, he passeth further. But I said, perhaps the poor, are fools, and know not the way of out Lord, the judgement of their God. I will go therefore to the better sort, and speak to them. For they have known the way of our Lord; and behold these have more broken of the y●ake, they have burst the bonds in sunder, I have filled them, and they have committed adultery; they are made like horses that look after the mare, and stallions; they have neighed every one after the wife of his neighbour; Thus spoke the holy Prophets, or rather God by their mouth. Whereby we may moreover understand how ancient this disease of the world is, and how far it must needs have spread, and rooted itself in the extent of so many years: and we may well think that as it happeneth in the bodies of every living thing, so the world growing old and decrepit, in this last hour thereof, as we may say, all the juice of piety and devotion, being dried up, and the vital vigour of divine love eaten away and extinguished, it hath no more strength and force in a manner left, but daily decaye's and grows worse and worse. For that which truth itself hath foretold must needs come to pass, 
Mat. 24.12. Luc 18.8.  The Charity of many will wax cold, and iniquity will abound; & in an other place; when the Son of man shall come dost thou think he shall find faith on earth? Which being so, what must necessarily follow thereof, but, which is to be bewailed with a whole world of tears, that an infinite multitude of men created all for eternal bliss, & the joys of heaven, careless of this hope, careless of the divine promises, & blinded with the fair outside of these temporal things, leading their days in good things, 
job 21.13. Esaye 5.24.  and all kind of pleasure, as holy job speaketh, shall in a point of time, in a moment descend into Hell fire. Which the Prophet Esaye doth also most severely denounce. Therefore hath Hell dilated his soul, & opened his mouth without any bound, & his strong ones shall desced unto him, & his high ones, & those that are glorious: And this hath not only been foretold us by the holy Prophets, but God hath showed it in diverse visions at several times, & in particular in that which we read in the History of S. Francis his order, 
In the History of S. Francis his order.  not long after the beginning of the same order. For when Bertholdus a famous man of that holy Religion, was one day preaching in Germany, and had earnestly inveighed against a certain vice: a woman there present, & guilty of that sin, fell instantly dead in the midst of the people, by force of her sorrow & contrition: 
A memorable. Example.  & while every body betook himself to prayer, she came to life again, & related the cause of her sudden death, & how she was commanded to return to her body, that she might confess her sin and be absolved. Then she spoke of many things, which she had seen, but one thing chiefly which is most fearful & wondrous. That when she stood before the judgement seat of God there were at that instant brought thither threescore thousand souls, which by sundry chances, in several quarters of the world, among Christians & Infidels, had them newly departed this life, & of all this huge number, three only were sent to Purgatory, all the rest were condemned to hell fire one only man of S. Francis his order dying also at that very time, passed through Purgatory, but stayed not long there & took with him to heaven, the souls of two that had been his entire friends in this world. Many other such kind of visions & Revelations we may read, but I will content myself with this one, it having so many witnesses unto it, as there were people at the sermon; and expressing both the things which here we treat of, to wit, the dangers of this world, out of which so few do escape with safety; & the security of a Religious estate which relieveth others also.   

Three evils of this world, of which S. john doth advertise us. CHAP. VI  
HItherto we have spoken of the miseries & dangers of the world in general; though too compendiouslly, in regard of the number & greatness of them; for to express them, as they deserve, we had need of a volume as big as the world itself, which is so full of misery; wherefore since it is fitting we should yet speak something more amply, and more particularly of them, what can we say that can be better spoken, or be of greater weight and moment, then that which we find in S. john the Apostle, who give's us this advice; Love not the world, neither the things which are in the world, of any love the world, the charity of the father is not in him; 
1. Io. 2.15.  because all that is in the world, is concupiscence of the flesh; and concupiscence of the eyes, and pride of life. How foul and abominable a body is it, which is composed of three so foul, and so abominable members? And that the whole kingdom of this world, is fitly divided into these three parts, and as it were provinces, and countries; is a thing which may be easily understood, because whensoever a man begins to cast aside the thought of Heavenly things, and to bestow himself wholly upon things present & temporal; Three things offer themselves unto him, upon which he may set his affection: First all external things; and to these doth belong the Concupiscence of the eyes, 
Three things which ●ept our Affection.  that is, the unquenchable thirst of Avarice. Secondly his own body, inviting him to pamper, and feed it with every thing, that is delightful & pleasing; which is concupiscence of the flesh: Thirdly he meets with other men; over whom to have command, or at least to be renowned & praised among them, or to overtop them in any kind, is held to be a great thing; and is that which the Apostle d●th call Pride of life. Wherefore all those that serve this world & subject themselves to temperal things, are slaves to one, or more of these three: And these are as it were, three nets, which the crafty poacher of men's souls, doth lay so thick, that whosoever escapes one, is catched in an other. These are three kinds of darts, which the enemy of mankind doth incessantly brandish against us, or rather three warlike engines whereby he doth continually labour to shake, weaken, & beat down the very foundation of a Christian life. Therefore let us consider with attention, in what manner every one of these do hinder and stop our passage to heaven.  

The danger of worldly wealth.  2. And concerning the Concupiscence of the Eyes, we read that Oracle of our Saviour; Woe be to you that be rich, In which one syllable (w●e) he comprehendeth all evils, calamities & miseries. And in an other place more plainly, & more significantly, he saith: 
Luc 5.24 Matt. 19.23.24.  Amen I say unto you, that a rich in a shall hardly enter into the kingdom of heaven, and again, I say unto you, it is easier ser a Camel to pass through a needle's eye, then for a rich man to enter into the kingdom of heaven; what can we desire more? Is it not proof enough to every Christian man, that our Lord & Saviour, Truth itself, hath said it, & said it so plainly, and so expressly as we see? For if we believe all other Mysteries of our faith, as the Mystery of the Blessed Trinity, of the Real Presence, and such like, for this reason only, because our Saviour who cannot lie, hath taught them; and notwithstanding natural reason falls short of them, and humane capacity cannot dive so far as to conceive the depth of them; yet we believe them strongly, and with that assuredness that we are ready to lay down our lives, rather than to forgo them; why should not the same Authority, sway us also in this point concerning riches; though the case stood so that it were not possible for us, to behold with our eyes, the harm that is in them? But it is not a thing so hard to conceive, nor so hidden or removed from our sense and understanding, as be those other Mysteries; 
Four causes why Riches are dangerous.  For if we will dive into the causes and reasons why Riches are so dangerous, we shall find them to be four. The first is because in the purchasing, and increasing of wealth, many sins are easily committed: 
1. Tim 6.9.  of which Saint Paul gives us notice saying: They that will become 〈…〉, and into the snare of the Devil, and into many vain and unprofitable desires, which cast a man headlong into destruction and perdition. Wherefore S. Gregory in his morals saith well, 
S Greg. 4. mor. c. 3.  that it is very seldom seen that those that have store of gold, should come to eternal rest; seeing, Truth itself hath said: It is hard for those that have money, to enter into the kingdom of heaven; for they that here gape after the increase of riches, what joy can they hope for in the life to come? 
Idem in Pastor. 3. p. ad●●. 21.  And yet more effectually in his Pastoral, he saith: They that are hot upon sudden increase of wealth, let them hearken to that which is written, He that maketh haste to be rich, 
Prou. 28.20  shall not be innocent; for certainly the man that is ambitious to increase his riches, is careless in avoiding sin; and (as a silly bird,) whilst he greedily looketh after the bait of earthly substance, he heeds not the snare of sin, that doth strangle him. They that covet after whatsoever gain this present world can afford them, and heed not the future damage which they may suffer, 
Pr●u ●0. ●1  let them hear what is written: The inheritance which we make haste unto ●n the beginning, at last will want a blessing; for this present life is the beginning, which leadeth us in the end, to the portion of blessedness: therefore they that make haste to have their inheritance in the beginning, cut themselves off from the blessed portion which they should have in the end▪ because whilst here they desire increase through wicked avarice, they are there disinherited from the everlasting patrimony; and those that covet to have all; or are able to compass all that they covet after; 
Matth. 16.26.  let them give care to what is written: What doth it avail a man, if he gain the whole world, and suffer loss of his own soul; as if Truth itself had said, what doth it avail a man to ●ake to himself all that is without him, if he damn this one thing, which is himself. etc.  
3. Thus it fares with us in the purchase of Riches; 
The 2. Inconvenience of being Rich.  how is it in the possession and use of them? For this is another great incommodity of being rich, because it is not credible, how it doth dead, and extinguish the practice of virtue, and all affection, and thought of heavenly things, razing the very memory of them out of our mind, and carrying it quite an other way; to wit, upon the care and solicitude how to keep that which we have gotten upon earth. For all kind of worldly wealth and riches, being of their own nature perishable, and subject always to waste and decay; and moreover lying open to the wrongs, and rapine of other folk, and all unfortunate mischances, and yielding continual matter of debate, and strife, and suits in law; no forecast or provision can be great enough to preserve them; Whereby the mind of a rich man distracted with many cares, and divided within itself, is every day duller, and duller, for any business that concerns the service of God, and having nothing day by day but earth in his thought, and earth in his hand, by little and little he becometh wholly earthly. Whereupon S. Ambrose is of opinion that our Saviour for this reason chiefly, 
S. Ambrose l 5. in Luc.  began his sermon, from the Commendation of Poverty. Because, saith he, Poverty is the first in the rank of virtues, and as it were a mother and breeder of them; for he that shall have set worldly things at naught, may well deserve the things eternal; but no man can be worthy of the kingdom of heaven, that being possessed with affection of th●s world, hath not power so much as to lift up his head out of it. S. H●●rome thought, and wrote the same thing; to wit, that virtue, and riches, cannot dwell together in one man's breast; and he confirmeth it by the example of a Heathen philosopher; 
S. H●●rome p. 13  for Crates, saith he, the Thebaean, a man in his time very wealthy, when he went to Athens, to betake himself to philosophy, cast away a great mass of gold & silver, making account with himself, that it was not possible for him to be Master of virtue and riches both at once. And we, stuffed up to the very eyes, think we can follow the poverty of our Saviour Christ: And S. Bernard, 
S. Bernard ●p. 103.  saith in few words most pithyly. Blessed is he that hunteth not after those things, which when we possess them, they over-load us; when we love them, they defile us, when we lose them, they torment us. For such be the fruits of riches, that though we do not set our hart to them; yet the care & administration of them is toilsome. But if we love them also, than they defile our soul; and do as it were cast dirt upon the face and beauty of it. If moreover we chance so lose them all, or in part, as in the midst of so many several chances, nothing is more easy; then they vex and torment us; and not only when we come in good earnest to lose them, but long before, and in very deed always, because there is always a possibility of losing them.  

The 3. mischief of being rich.  4. The third mischief of Riches be certain vices which usually accompayny them. For Riches and vices though in name they somewhat agree, yet much more in quality. And first S. Bernard saith the fullness and abundance of temporal things, 
Di●iti● & viti● magna est 〈◊〉.  begets want and forgetfulness of the eternal. For a man that is full fed and in a manner glutted with the things of this life, not only, doth not hunger after things of the life to come, but can hardly call them to mind, or once think of them: yea you cannot put him in mind of a thing that is more distasteful. Wherefore the Wise man saith truly. 
S. Bernard 〈◊〉 2 de 4. 〈…〉  O death, how bitter is the memory of thee, to a man that hath peace in his substance? And this oblivion is not alone. For commonly, or rather I may say, there necessarily follows pride, disdaynefulnes, and insolency. For as S. Augustine saith very well, 
〈…〉. 41.1.  Riches breed nothing more naturally, them Pride: Every fruit, every grain, every corn, every tree, hath his worms. The worm of riches is Pride. 
S. Aug. de 〈◊〉 D. s. 5  Moreover by this worldly happiness, and abundance of wealth, men grow to a kind of boldness, and too much confidence of themselves and their own strength, which some may perhaps think to be a small fault. But our Saviour Christ esteemed it a matter of so great moment, that for this very cause he said, 
Mat. 19  it was not possible for a rich man to enter into the kingdom of heaven. And it is written in the Proverbs. He that confideth in his riches, shall fall. And in the Psalms: They that confide in their strength, 
Prou 11 28.  and glory in the multitude of their riches. And to the same purpose is that which we read in Ecclesiasticus, of not placing our trust in money hoarded up; 
Ps. 48.7.  which the holy Ghost reckoneth to be of so great weight, that as if it were above the power of man to do it, 
E●cl. 31.9.  he addeth with admiration. Who is he, and we will praise him? And thus much we may say truly of them, that Riches are Instruments to all evil, both in regard of the power which is in them, for as the Ecclesialles saith Allthings obey money; 
Eccl. 10.19.  and by reason that most commonly those that have them in great abundance, stand not in awe of any thing, which is a great spurr to sin; Wherefore our Saviour Christ doth with great reason liken all earthly riches to Thorns; 
Mat 13.22. S 〈◊〉 Hom. 25. in Euang.  not only because they choke the Corn of virtue, and good Counsel, but because they rend the mind in pieces; and as S. Gregory saith dragging it even to sin, they leave it all gore blood by the wound" which they give it.  

The 4 mischief of Riches.  5. A fourth evil which comes by riches, is, that very thing which makes them so much desired by most men, & esteemed so great a happiness; to wit, sumptuous furnitures, gorgeous apparel, dainty fare, a gallant life lead in ●ase and plenty and all corporal pleasure. Wherefore we shall do well to bethink ourselves how prejudicial these delights do prove, and learn what comes of them, by that Rich man of old, 
Luc. 16.19.  who was buried in Hell; not because he had robbed others of that which belonged unto them (for we read no such thing of him) but because he was clad in purple, 
S Greg. 11. mor. 4.  and silks, and fared every day magnifically; And that which S. Gregory saith is well to be noted, that those whom God hath once cast off, have all things at will in this life; as it is a custom amongst us to deny the sick nothing, when they are given over by the physician; and so they are lead to the dungeon of hell and eternal death; through the pleasant fields and meadows of this world. But whom would it not affright to hear that which the Prophet threateneth; 
Amo● 6.4.  woe be to you that sleep in beds of ivory, and are wanton in your Couches; you that eat the calf from the heard; and drink wines, taken from the lees; and are anointed with the best ointments. 
S August. Epist. 121.  S. August. writes an Epistle to one Proba a noble and wealthy woman; wherein among many other good Instructions, he adviseth her that in the midst of her dainties, she set them not to her har, lest sucking the corruption of them, they be her death. And moreover that to avoid this poison, many have forsaken the world, and they that have not done so, will have much a do, to set their accounts straight. These delights, saith he, in which if a widow live, that is, if she dwell upon them, and be entangled in pleasures of the flesh, living, she is dead, many holy men and holy women shunning by all possible means, have cast away the very Mothers of them, that is Riches; and have dealt them among the poor, and so laid them up more safe in the heavenly Treasury: which course if thou also do not run, as being withheld by some office of devotion, thou know'st what account thou canst give to God of them. And thus far shall be sufficient that we have spoken of riches; of the dangers whereof, what can be said more moving and fearful, then that which the holy Ghost hath penned by the hand of S. james, 
jacob 5.1.  with so heavy threats. Go to now you rich men, lament, hou●ing in your miseries, which shall come upon you. Your Riches are corrupted and your garments are eaten by the moths. Your gold and your silver hath taken rust, and the rust of them shall be a testimony against you, and shall eat your flesh like fire; you have hoarded up a treasure of wrath for yourselves in the latter days, you have fared well upon earth, and have nursed up your hearts in luxuries, against the day of slaughter. This is spoken, not by an Ambrose or a Chrysostome, or by some other wise and learned man, but by the Eternal wisdom itself, by the holy Ghost in Scripture, whereof not one sentence, not one title can fall to the ground without effect. What man therefore is there whom these threats will not terrify, and so plain a declaration of the evils which lurk in riches? Certainly if a Physician should give us warning that in such a dish of meat were poison or that it were hurtful for us, we should easily forbear it, though it were otherwise dainty and delicious, and we would not so much as touch it for fear of our lives. And yet the Physician is but a man, who may deceive us and be deceived. God doth so often, & so assuredly, and in such weighty terms forewarn us, and give us notice that Riches are hurtful, and very poison to our souls; and what madness is it to hazard, not our temporal, but our eternal life, and everlasting glory, upon so base and so brickle a thing; and set it upon the dice of riches? 
Matth. 16.26.  For what doth it avail a man if he gain, I say not one kingdom, but I say, as our Saviour fayd, if he gain the whole world, and suffer loss of his own soul?  

The unworthyne, and mischief of Carnal pleasure.  6. Let us now speak of the Concupiscence of the flesh; and we shall not need to speak much to convince and condemn it for wicked and dangerous. Nature itself, and the light which is bred in every man's mind from his cradle, doth sufficiently condemn it. For we shall never meet with a man that is so utterly shameless and impudent, and hath lost so much of the face of a man, but that he will conceal and dissemble, not only his acts, but his inclinations in this kind, and blush if at any time they suddenly show themselves. Whereby we may see how unworthy this kind of pleasure is, and how unsuitable to the Nobleness of mankind. And in very deed there is no one thing which makes us more like to beasts, or rather very beasts, than this one beastly vice. For it doth take from us all reasonable discourse, by which alone we are and show ourselves to be men; it barres all kind of Council, it dasles, and dull's, and blinds the mind, and drowne's our thoughts in dirt and filth. And there is not that good thing which this corruption doth not chase utterly out of our mind, nor any mischief, which it doth not bring into it. Wherefore S. Greg. as he turneth all things to a moral sense, doth apply to this vice, that with which in the book of kings the Prophet Samuel doth upbraid king Agag, 
S. Gregorie ● m v. ●. 4.  that his sword had made mothers without Children. For by that king who was very fat and pursy, he understandeth luxury, the pleasure whereof if it be suffered to be like a sword unsheathed, 
2. Reg. 15. ●●  it presently murthereth all good thoughts, all virtue, and all good deeds. And moreover whereas it is related in the same book, that the people of Israel were delivered from the hand of the destroyers; 
2. Reg 14.48  he doth interpret these destroyers to be the violent motions of Concupiscence, of which it is said besides in the book of job; 
job. 31.12.  that it is a fire unto perdition, rooting out all generations. The destroyer, saith he, is the spirit of fornication, for whosoever it doth enter upon, it leaves him not one sole gift of virtue. The tender plants in gardens are also said to be destroyed; for, which are the Gardens of the heavenly. Bridegroom, but the hearts of the Saints, sensed by their own watchful care, and set all w●th flowers through the sweet odour of Chastity? For while they entertain no dishonest motion, The white slewce of their shamefastness is an honour unto them. Therefore the unclean spirits are the destroyers, because if they chance to deceive those honest hearts, the hearts deceived l●●se the tender flowers of so great a virtue.  
7. And in this manner to bereave a soul of all her honour & ornament, is not the sole may me and misfortune which dishonesty bringeth, but as I said before, it leadeth after it all manner of vices, as so many soldiers of the contrary party into a City surprised by the enemy; and those vices especially which S. Gregory sometimes calls the Army, 
3. Gregory 31. mor. c. 17  sometime the daughters of luxury, as being never from her, but still hanging at her elbow. Luxury, saith he, breeds blindness of hart, inconsideration, unconstancy, headlong resolutions, the love of ourselves, the hatred of God, affection to this present world, and a horror of the world to come, or desperation. S. Bernard also among the other Chariots of king Pharaoh, 
The Chariot of luxury.  pursuing the servants of God when thy fled from him, doth make a pleasant description of the Chariot of luxury, running upon four vices, as upon four wheels, 
S. Bernard ser. 55 in Cans.  to wit, riotous feeding, soft and nice clothing, excess of ease & sleep, and the stinking heat of Concupiscence: The Horses are two that draw it, the Prosperity of this life, and Abundance of all things; One also sits upon each horse, to wit, slothful lithernes, and blind security. Neither of these have any spurs, because in the jollity of this pleasure there must be nothing that may bring any disquiet, or vexation: but they hold a Canopee in their hands, to make shadow unto them, which is dissimulation, and carelessness of any future thing which they should provide. For it is proper, saith he, to an effeminate and nice disposition, to waive even necessary care, and to live under the covert of dissimulation, that it may not feel the scalding heat of anxiety.  
8. There remaineth Pride of life among the three Evils we were to speak of; 
The harm●● which come of Pride and Ambition.  which vice how forcibly it doth not only hinder, but overthrow the health of our souls, that one saying of our Saviour Christ, which we find in S. john spoken to the jews, doth sufficiently demonstrate; How can you believe, who receive glory from one another? 
Io. 5.44.  So great is the darkness, and obscurity it bringeth upon a soul, which it hath once possessed. S. B●sil calleth this desire of glory, 
S. Basil.  the whetstone of wickedness: because it is not only evil in itself, but it whetteth a man on to all other evil. And S. Bernard saith more fully: 
S. Bernard. in Qui hab. 5.6.  Ambition is a subtle evil, a hidden poison, a secret plague, à contriver of deceit, the mother of Hypocrisy, the breeder of envy, the offspring of all vice, the fuel of wickedness, the rust of virtue, the moth of sanctity, the blinder of men's hearts, turning remedies into diseases, and breeding sickness by the helps of physic. Many things we may read in S. Gregory concerning this vice, or rather this forge of all vices, and easily understand by what he saith, that whosoever shall give himself unto it, can have no commerce with any virtue. And among other things he saith in his Morals wondrous well: 
S. Greg. 34. mor. c. 18.  That other vices make war upon those virtues only, by which themselves are destroyed, as Anger opposeth itself against Patience, Gluttony against Abstinence, Lust against Continency. But Pride, which we call the root of all vices, not satisfied with the death of one virtue, bandeth itself against all the parts of the Soul, and, as a general and contagious disease, infecteth the whole body. For as if a Tyrant should surprise a city which he hath besieged, so when Pride doth break-in upon the mind, the richer it finds a man, the more cruel it is against him. But besides the robbing of a man, and the depriving him of all spiritual ornaments, and the defacing and razing of all virtue to the very ground; it doth also bring with it all manner of evil and corruption; which S. Gregory also teacheth in these words: 
S. Greg 31. mor. c. 16.  Pride is the root of all evil, and of it the holy Scripture doth testify saying: The beginning of all sin is Pride; And the first brood that is hatched out of this poisoned root, are seven principal vices, to wit, Vainglory, Envy, Wrath, Sadness, Avarice, Gluttony, Luxury. Wherefore by all this which hath been hitherto said, we may discover plainly the great misery of this wicked and desperate world, and how wretched they are that live continually amidst so many evils, and serve under such a yoke and such a Prince; the Prince of this world being no other, according to our saviour's own verdict, but he that is Prince of hell; and the world itself being all of it interlaced with so many and so great mischiefs and corruptions as we have mentioned.   

Of flying the world by a Religious life. CHAP. VII.  
SInce the earth doth thus flow and overflow with so many dangerous evils, every one may with great reason lament and cry with a loud voice to heaven: 
Ps 54 7.  Who will give me wings like a dove, and I will fly, and take my rest? For he that shall enter truly into consideration of so great calamities, and such imminent hazards of his eternal welfare, as in the former Chapters I have laid open, cannot doubtless choose but wish from his very hart speedily to escape by flight, and to place himself as far-off from them as possibly he may; for which flight, the wings of no other bird are useful, 
Sin is 〈◊〉 overborne by ●●ight.  but the wings of a dove, which is properly and naturally both simple, and ●eareful. For in the war and conflict with Sin, our strongest defence is Fear▪ and the best way to overcome, is by Flight. Which he, that wished for these wings, doth give us to understand, which he saith: I have removed myself far-off by flying, and remained in the desert. This is that which Religious people do most of al. For they remove themselves far from the multitude and throng of people, 
Ibid. v 8.  and remain in the desert, severed from the eyes of men, severed from earthly businesses, severed from all noise and worldly trouble. The necessity of which flight, and the excessive danger to which they expose themselves who will not fly, hath been, in my opinion, lively expressed in the subversion of those five Cities, of which we read in Genesis, 
G●n 1●.  when only Loath and his small household were saved. His two sonnes-in-law, scorning his counsel and admonition, 
Th●s is declared by example of the five Cities.  perished with the rest by fire. His wife went out with him; yet because she looked back, she was turned into a pillar of salt. For what doth that wicked place better signify then this present world, burning with lust and untemperate desires; blind, and walking in most hideous darkness, with deserved punishment of enormous offences hanging continually over it? A wonderful great benefit therefore it is to them (and doubtless the greatest that can happen to man in this life) to whom God hath showed how to fly from the wrath that is to follow, and sent his holy Angels from heaven to move us to take this flight, & oftimes to urge and compel us, as they did Loath, when we hang-of and prolong the time. But upon those, who either contemn the secret inspirations of Almighty God that doth call them, as did the two sonnes-in-law, or do entertain them as the wife did, but through inconstancy and fickleness look back with desire & affection to that which they have forsaken, God doth lay most heavy punishments.  
2. But to what place must we direct our flight? For Loath, frighted perhaps with the roughness of the Mountain to which he was first commanded to repair, desired that he might rather shelter himself in Segor, 
Relgion is the Mount on which we must save ourselves.  which was a city upon the plain; but when he saw the fearful flames ranging on every side, then of his own accord he betook himself with all speed to the mount, and could not think himself safe till he was seated there. This Mountain is the top of Euangelical Perfection, the difficulties whereof be so dreadful to many men, that they choose rather to walk the easy and spacious ways of this world, then venture upon this, which in their conceit is so hard and narrow; yet if they once begin to discover in a clearer light, & behold with open eyes the foulness of sin, the fickleness and misery of this posting world, & the everlasting flames & torments, which are without measure; presently they cast aside all delays, & make haste away to higher places, and nothing comes in their way so hard, which they do not willingly embrace to attain to eternal Happiness, and escape the evils which have no end.  
3. And whereas in all combats or encounters of man with man, it is ever held a base and shameful thing to fly; because he that shrinketh from his adversary, & betaketh himself to his heels, doth acknowledge himself to be the weaker, and gives himself for vanquished, which among men is ever accounted a great disgrace. In the conflict, which we have with Vice, it is quite contrary. For to fly, 
To fly, is to overcome.  is to overcome; not only because we put ourselves in safety by keeping aloof from the Enemy, but because we discomfit and overthrow him by our very flight. For every vice hath some subject, which is as the bait or fuel of it; which bait he that doth eschew, must needs vanquish his enemies. For he doth not only tread under foot the thing itself, which he doth contemn, but goeth away with a far greater victory over himself and his own crooked inclination, and is so far from showing any baseness or cowardice in this manner of flight, or any one jot of fear, 
S Ambr de fuga sec. c 4.  or want of courage, as that rather he gives evident testimony of his resolution and stoutness, because it is a work of great courage and strength to fly; as S. Ambrose witnesseth saying: Let us not be ashamed to fly; for it is a glorious flight, to fly from the face of sin. And as for the dangers which concern our body and life, in every man's judgement it is wisdom to provide betimes for our own safety, and to forethink the dangers which may happen, and deliver ourselves from all peril beforehand, if we can. Why therefore should we not think & do the selfsame thing in the hazards which touch upon our souls, and do it so much the more effectually, in regard that the calamities, which they threaten, are not only far greater, but eternal? For certainly the man were both mad & blind, and a stranger to his own nature, and the state of things, that should hope never to be overcome in so many battles, and never to be hurt amidst so many snares and gins; 
Prou. 6. 2●.  as if a man would hide fire in his bosom (as the holy-ghost speaketh in the Proverbs) and not have his garments set on fire; or walk upon the coals, and that the soles of his feet should not be burned. And to this purpose S. Gregory Nyssen bringeth a fit similitude in his Treatise of Virginity As a swift river, 
S. Gregory Nyssen. de Virg●ni●.  that is subject to swell beyond the banks, doth annoy those that dwell near it, but reacheth not them that dwell far-off; So the world, and a secular life, tumbles them down that are in the stream, and have voluntarily cast themselves into the troubles thereof; but those that have withdrawn themselves from it, remain quiet and secure as dwelling far within the land. Wherefore, saith he, though there be a great number of evils in this life, heaped one upon an other, there is but one means to free ourselves from them; to wit, utterly to abandon it. For neither he that shall dwell in Sodom, can escape the showers of fire; nor free himself from the servitude of Egypt, whosoever will not forsake Egypt, and pass over, not that Red Sea, but this sea, that is so black and truly filled with darkness. S. Hierome also doth exhort us not only to fly, 
S Hierome Ep. 34.  but to fly naked. For if we keep possession of any thing pertaining to this world, we do not fly the world, but shifting from place to place, we carry the world with us whither soever we go: joseph, saith he, but that he left his garment, could not have escaped the Egyptian Lady. The youngman, that followed JESUS, covered with a Syndon, because the ministers laid hands on him, cast away that earthly covering, and fled naked. Elias being taken-up into heaven in a fiery Chariot, left his weed upon earth. The Wisest man that ever was saith: He that toucheth pitch, shall be defiled by it. 
E●cl. 13.1.  So long as we handle secular affairs, and our soul is entangled in administration of revenues and possessions, we cannot think upon God freely. And S. Ambrose writ a whole Book of this very subject, 
S Ambrose.  intitling it, Of the flight of the world; wherein among many other things he declareth, how in the Old Law we are instructed to fly, 
Deut. 19  by the six Cities ordained for refuge & Sanctuary; which Cities were seated in the portion of the Levits; because the Levits, saith he, are those that fly from this world, to the end they may please God. They forsake their country, their parents, their children, and their kindred, to cleave to God alone; Wherefore he that hath God for his portion, must not busy his thoughts with any thing but God; to the end he be not hindered by other necessary functions. For what we spend upon other things, we take from the service of Religion, and the office of a Levit. For this is the flight which is indeed required of a Priest, that he forsake his domesticals, and become a stranger to his dearest-beloved, that he that is desirous to serve God deny himself to those things which are his own. S. Cyprian in one of his Epistles doth also advise us: 
S. Cyprian. ●. 1. ●p 11.  That we give not occasion to the Devil to work us mischief, for he lies in wait, and is greedy to exercise his cruelty against us; 
Eph. 4 27.  the Apostle saying: Give not place to the Devil. Our ship therefore must be carefully guided out of places of danger, that it be not split upon the rocks and shelves; we must speedily withdraw this earthy bundle out of the fire, that it be not burnt in the flames which bend towards it. He that borders upon danger, cannot be long safe. And in another place he saith: The confidence, which setteth our life upon the point of danger, 
Id. ●e singul. Cier●.  is most unfortunate; and the hope deceitful, which looketh for salvation amidst the allurements of sin; when we fight in the throng of our enemies, our victory is uncertain; & it is not possible to escape from being scorched, when we are hemmed-in with flames of fire. It may well be feared, that he that sleepeth on the bankside, will fall into the river; and it is better in this case wisely to be afraid then to be overboldly confident; & more profitable for a man to acknowledge himself to be infirm, then by desiring to make a show of his strength, to prove himself but weak; which kind of presumptuous people the Apostle checketh saying: 
Gal. 6.3.  If any man think himself to be something, whereas he is nothing, he seduceth himself. For certainly he seduceth himself, & deceiveth his own soul, that bewareth not the things which are contrary unto him, but meddleth with those that are hurtful. And on the other side, he that is always jealous of those that are wicked, and shy of every thing that hath but the appearance of naughtiness, taketh the safer course for himself. Thus far S. Cyprian.  
4 And thus we have sufficiently demonstrated upon the point of Reason, and Authority of holy Fathers, that nothing is more profitable for salvation, or more necessary, then to fly from the dangers of this world; and from the snares & ambushes which are in it; because, as the Scripture speaketh: He that loveth danger, shall perish therein. 
Gal. 3.27.  Now it remaineth further, that we consider, to what place we are to fly, that we may be safe; to wit, to the Mountain, as we said before; that is, to a Religious state, 
Religion a Mountain, free from the mischeefs which are in the world.  which we may truly call a Mountain; because it is high in perfection, and above the earth, and all earthly things. It is also hard to climb, but yet near to heaven. Upon this Mountain, that is, in a Religious state, the evils of this world which are so many, have no place at all; both because it is severed from secular affairs; and much more because it is composed of things quite contrary to the world; & of most wholesome preservatives of health and salvation. Which S. Bonaventure doth excellently setforth in his Apology for the Poor, saying: that all sin is bred by inordinate conversion to one of these three perishable goods: 
S. Bonaventure.  Riches, 
Two ways of avoiding sin.  Honour, and bodily Pleasure; & consequently that the whole accomplishment of our salvation doth consist in that we avoid offending in any thing concerning these three; which may be done two ways: First in act only and consent; which is performed by virtues opposite to such vices, as are occasioned by any of these three things. A second way is by pulling-up by the very root all manner occasion of falling; possessing the virtues aforesaid, not in act only, but in habit, and in a constant form of our whole life; a thing doubtless far more firm & durable, & in itself more excellent. And to this end were the three Euangelical Counsels published upon earth, by our Lord and Saviour. For against the desire of Riches, he opposed the profession of Poverty, by which we give away the possession of all external things. Against the motions of Lust, he persuaded Chastity, to cutof the use of that power, which is given for generation. And finally to root out Pride and Ambition, he proposed unto us the perfect abnegation of our will, which is Obedience. What therefore could be bestowed upon mankind more effectual for salvation? For this is that prudent Counsel & Divine ordination, which S. Gregory noted, 
S. Gregory. Hom. 3●. in Euang.  that as in the art of Physic hot diseases are cured with cold medecines, and cold affections with remedies, that are hot; so our Saviour Christ hath applied to our sin's remedies of contrary operation. S. Basil also doth handle this argument very solidly, 
S Basil. in reg sus. disp. c. 6.  proving it at large, and saith, that it is necessary (for that is the term he useth) that whosoever desireth to live virtuously, forsake the world and lead a life severed from others; and bringeth to his purpose that saying of the Wiseman: Be not a friend to an angry man, 
Prou. 21.24. Esay. 52.11.  nor dwell not with a man that is furious, lest perhaps thou learn his ways, and get a snare to thy soul; and that of the prophet Esay: Go out from the midst of them, and be separated from them; and gives this reason, because it is not possible, but in the world we must continually hear and see many things, which provoke us to sin, and enter into a kind of familiarity with it even unawares, and carry away many pestilent imaginations and shameful impressions in our mind. And among other things he saith thus: It is no small matter, that a man, when he seeth such a multitude of those that offend God, cannot come to know his own sins, and be penitent for them as he ought; but rather comparing himself with others that are worse than himself, he pleaseth himself, thinking himself virtuous; and his mind being withdrawn from God by the diversity of businesses and turmoils, which a secular life doth furnish, he doth not only suffer loss (because he can take no pleasure in God, not taste any spiritual sweetness) but grows to a custom of forgetting and utterly contemning his judgements; 
S. Bernard ser. ●. de 〈…〉.  than which there cannot happen to man a greater or more deadly mischief. Thus saith S. Basil, and much more to the same effect. S. Bernard following the same strain, setteth down three degrees, by which we arrive to Salvation, and Perfection: The first is to abandon the world; the second, to join ourselves in company with some that are of the same mind and purpose; the third, to put ourselves in obedience under a Superior, by whom we may be governed and directed. Which degrees he maketh to have relation to three days of Virtue, as he calleth them; to wit, of Prudence, of Fortitude, and of Temperance.  
5. It is a hazardous thing, saith he, for a man to go about to do penance amidst the turmoils of the world; where doubtless some by their poisoned persuasions, some by their wickeder example on every side allure us to sin; others by flattery move us to vainglory, others by detraction cast us back into impatience. The light of Prudence therefore must necessarily go before, and show how many, and how pressing occasions and opportunities of sin the World doth urge upon us, especially in these wicked times; and how weak the soul of man is to resist them; chiefly when it hath been nuzzled in the custom of sinning. In this day therefore of Prudence, let him make choice to fly from this present wicked World, saying with the Prophet: I have hated the congregation of the malignant, and will not s●t with the wicked. 
Psal. 25.5.  But this is not sufficient, for perhaps heerupon he will make choice of a solitary life, not weighing throughly his own weakness, and the danger of combating with the Devil; and therefore he must necessarily take with him the day of Fortitude, that he may understand, that his strength is to be kept for our Lord, 
Psal. 58.10.  and seek to place himself with an Army of many fight together. And when he hath chosen to be in company of others; shall he choose to be Master, before he have been a Scholar, and teach that which he never learned? Let the day therefore of Temperance shine upon him, seeking to allay and bridle the loose motions of voluptuousness, the beastly motions of curiosity, the headstrong motions of pride and haughtiness; let him choose to be abject in the house of God, 
Psal. ●3. 11.  under a Master, by whom his will may be broken, and his inordinate desires tamed by the curb of Obedience. Thus far S. Bernard. Wherefore certainly a Religious state can never be sufficiently loved or praised, in regard it bringeth us out of the dangerous seas of this world, to a quiet haven, and disarmeth the Devil of the three weapons, with which he assaulteth every body. It entrencheth us within a triple defence and rampire, and blocketh-up all the ways, whereby the Enemy may have any hope of passage. For in what thing can this outrageous Lion or Dragon hurt a Religious soul? He cannot hook him in with desire of gold & silver, or lands & possessions; nor catch him by unlawful bargains, nor put him upon any other kind of unjust dealing; because he hath forsaken all his own, that he might not covet that which belongeth to an other. He cannot move him by beauty to intemperancy, because his mind is bound from it by the bonds of his Vow; and his eyes (which are the conduits of lust) and his whole body is fenced by the very walls within which he liveth. Neither is there any danger, that through ambition he will flatter, or lie, or envy, and undermine others for preferment sake; because he hath cut from himself all these things, and is so far from desiring to be above, that his whole contentment is placed in being under others.  
6. This State therefore is every way safe, strongly fenced and impregnable, and guarded from the enemy on every side, and consequently there can be no doubt made, but as (all things considered) the best means to attain to Salvation is to forsake the world, so the world cannot be more effectually and perfectly forsaken, then by betaking ourselves to Religious Enclosure; which whosoever shall understand and sink into, what bands or chains will be able to withhold him from taking his flight into this Castle of Salvation, into this Fortification of Angels, into this Heaven upon earth? For if a traveller should be certainly told, that there were a wood pestered with thieves lying upon his way, he would do his best endeavour not to pass that way, & be glad to choose any other, though it were farther about, and more troublesome; Now since we know for certain, that this world is so full of Devils, and of their snares and ambushes; how is it possible there should be found a Soul, who had rather run the hazard of eternal perdition amidst all these treacheries & deceits, then walk the way of a Religious life? specially seeing a Religious life is not so full of difficulties, but much more pleasant and easy.   

Of the benefit of a Religious life, in regard it strippeth us of all things created. CHAP. VIII.  
THe benefit and commodity of a Religious State doth not show itself only in keeping us from sin, & from things connexed with sin, as from scraping-up worldly wealth, from places of honour, and preferment, and such like, but in debarring us of all things created, even of these which may perhaps be had without sin. And the benefit is the greater, in regard it is a thing of so high value and perfection. For by it we shake-of all impediments, and become more nimble & active to perform whatsoever spiritual work. The Apostle declareth it by the example of those that run a race. 
1. Cor. 9 24.  For if we consider with ourselves the life of man from the beginning to the end, it is a continual race and course to life everlasting, and the eternal rewards which are prepared for us. This is the only End, for which we were created; to this End all our actions, all our endeavours, all our labours must be directed; and he that at last arriveth not hither, hath received his soul in vain; because he faileth of the end, for which he did receive it; and doth on the other side fall into everlasting and infinite mischief. Wherefore if we will be wise, and love ourselves truly; our chiefest or rather our only care and thought must be, to seek all possible means to run this race more nimbly, and with more speed and alacrity; which means the Apostle hath not concealed; for he saith: Every one that contendeth for the mastery, refraineth himself from all things. He saith: from all things, not from some only; because it would little avail a man to lighten himself of a weight of gold, & take the same weight in silver, or some other thing; for in regard of hindering his course, it were all one. And Cas●tan applying this passage of the Apostle to a spiritual contention and strife, writeth, that the laws of refraining from all things were so severe among those that did run in the race, 
The laws of those that 〈◊〉 a race.  that they did not merely forbear to overcharge themselves with meat and drink, but used no other diet but such as was prescribed them in that art, and did for that time lay aside the care of all other business, and were so far from using the act of marriage, that they had a fashion to wrap about their loins plates of lead, to dry up those lustful humours; 
C●●●●an. lib. 〈…〉 .7. 2. Cor. 9.25.  which Cassian allegeth as an incitement to Chastity. And these men, as S. Paul saith, did this, that they might receive a corruptible crown. Much more ought we to abstain from all things, or rather voluntarily cast them away, that we may receive a Crown incorruptible; and not be clogged and held back in so necessary and so noble a course.  

H●m 23. in Euang.  2. S. Gregory speaketh to the same effect in one of his Homilies, and saith: That a man in this world is perpetually wrestling with the Devil, whose strength is incomparable; and that these earthly things are like the clothes which are about us; and certainly if one wrestle in his clothes he shall be sooner cast, because he hath something whereof his adversary may catch hold; one hath a wife, another hath children, an other hath goods and possessions. Wherefore whosoever comes-in to wrestle (as certainly all must wrestle, and no man can avoid it) if he will not be thrown by the Devil, he must lay aside all his apparel, and enter naked into the lists. 
Idem. 21. mor. c. vl●.  And in an other place he compareth this our life amidst so many suggestions of the Devil, and so many waves of temptation, to a ship tossed with tempest. For at such a time every body doth willingly cast all things overboard to save the ship from danger; when the billows swell so high, that they hang like hills over their heads, and threaten present death, those that are in the ship have no thought of temporal goods; carnal delight comes not then in their mind; then they cast those things out of the ship, for which before they went on shipboard; and set all things at naught through the desire of living. He therefore is said to fear God as the waves which hang swelling over his head, who despiseth all things which here he carrieth in possession through the desire of true life. For when we cast away these earthly desires from our mind which they oppress, we do as it were unloade our ship overtaken with tempest, and the ship thus eased will come to haven, which the burden would have sunk: because the cares, which in this life do hang upon our soul, do drive it down to the bottom. S. Basil also useth the same Similitude of those that sail at sea, & addeth that we have much more reason than they, 
S. Basil hom. a● non a●h. reb. se●.  to do as they do. For they that sail these material seas, lose all that they cast overboard, and must be fain to live ever after in want and misery; But we, the more we disburden ourselves of this heavy lading, become the richer, and have greater plenty of solid wealth; to wit, of justice and Sanctity, which are riches of an other nature, and are not subject to the mercy of the waves, or shipwreck. Wherefore when we forsake these earthly things, they do not perish to them that forsake them, but as it were jaded out of a weaker vessel into a stronger and safer bottom, they are put in greater safety, and do surge at a securer port.  

S. Chrysost. Hom. 15. ad pop. Eccls 9.20.  3. S. Chrysostome doth to this purpose discourse excellently well upon that sentence of the Wiseman: Acknowledge that thou walkest in the midst of snares: and pondereth, that not without great reason man is bid in this place to acknowledge, rather than to see, because these snares cannot be seen with our corporal eyes, but must be understood and discovered by the light of our mind, in regard they are hidden, and (as he speaketh) overshaddowed with the bait of lucre, or pleasure, or other commodities; and that there is a mystery also in saying (in the midst of snares) because these gulfs and dangers do lie on every side of us. A man walketh, saith he, into the marketplace, and seeth his enemy; the very sight of him puts him into a rage. He spies his friend advanced, and it spite's him. He sets his eye upon a poor snake, and he contemns him. He beholds a rich man, and envieth him. He meeteth with somebody that hath done him a displeasure, and he storms at him. He seeth a beautiful woman, and is catched by her. The wife is oftimes a snare to them that foresee it not; oftimes our children, friends and neighbours. Which, when S. Chrysostome had spoken concerning the multitude of these hidden snares, he giveth us a very pertinent advice to avoid them, by example of the birds. For as birds, while they fly aloft, cannot be taken but when they stoop towards the ground, they are easily catched in the fowler's net; so the soul of man is safe enough from all deceits of the Devil, if it soar aloft in high and celestial things, and keep itself there upon the wing; but if it stoop down to inferior objects, i● falls into his snares. 
S Gregory 〈…〉 c. 20.  And S. Gregory 〈◊〉 doth declare this unto us by diverse examples drawn from that which hayneth daily among men. For as we cannot (say●● h●) follow two federal trades of life at once, as husbandry and sea-satin●, or exercise the handicraft of a blacksmith and a carpenter at one and the same time, but if a body handle one, he must necessarily lay aside the other: So whereas there be two several marriages preposed unto us, one consummate in flesh, the other consisting in spirit, the cadeavour which we apply to the one, must needs a●er us from the other. For no man can behold with his eye two things at once, seated in two contrary postures; nor with tongue, express two several sounds at once, as to speak Hebrew and Greek with one breath▪ nor with our cares can we hear two several tales together; so our Will is of that nature that it cannot enjoy corporal and spiritual pleasures both at one time; for the exercises of them both, do l●a●e to very different ends The exercises of the one extinguish the passion; of the body, and lay aside all things which come of flesh, or belong vn●o it; the exercise, of the other follow all these things very hotly. Finally we cannot serve two masters; 
Math. 6●  because it is not possible that the commands of them both should be at once fulfilled. Thus much saith S. Gregory.  
3. Though what n●ed we stand heaping authorities of the holy Fathers? Let us hear a Philosopher speak from-out of that blind Antiquity; for if such an one could understand it, and write so well of it, by the only light of Nature, which wa● yet but slender; it must needs be a great shame for us not to know and feel it, in this abundant light of Grace, in which we dwell. 〈◊〉 thereof ●e in his Treatise which he intitleth 〈◊〉, 
 disputing the ●●licitie of man, 〈…〉 that it consisteth in Wisdom alone, that is, in the contemplation and love ●f the Sovereign Good, and consequently that it cannot be attained in this life, because the bulk of this body is a great hindrance unto it, b●th by the natural lumpishness of it, and by reason of the 〈…〉 of our Senses and infinite other incommodities, which depend of the body; as 〈◊〉 inordinate affections, fears, and (to use his phrase) a multitude of 〈◊〉 and toys, wherewith in filleth the mind; as also the administration of outward things; trading in money, and handling businesses of 〈…〉. Whence he concludeth, that either a m●n ●ha● never attain to Wisdom and Happiness, or he shall atttayne unto it only after he is dead; but not possibly in this life, unless a man approach as near as 〈◊〉 he may to death, to wit, by withdrawing his mind from household-affayres, and from all manner of worldly business, and from the world itself, finally from all pleasure and care of the body, and so turn himself into himself, and dwell at home within himself. For this is a kind of death, at which all true Philosophers did always aim, spending all their labours and thoughts in striving to persuade themselves, that they were dead, and daily endeavouring to dye more perfectly. All this is Plato his discourse.  
4. Which kind of death and the necessity thereof, was not hidden from our Philosophers, but much more exactly understood by them, as appear by that which S. Gregory hath left written in his Morals: 
S Gregory l. 5. mor. c. 5.  We live yet to this world, while our mind is still wand'ring abroad in it; but when being outwardly mortified, we conceal ourselves in the sepulchre of Contemplation, we are hidden in our grave as dead men; which though hereafter it shall be done more perfectly, yet in great measure it is now performed by them that with inward delight are drawn from the turmoils of temporal desires, and while their souls are wholly intent to the love of God, they are not with any unprofitable perturbation torn in pieces and distracted. In which place he hath much more to the same effect, and this one thing besides worth observation, that in regard that Wisdom is not found in the outside of things, but lieth hidden in things invisible, it cannot be apprehended, unless we forsake these visible things, and hide ourselves also in those that are not to be seen.  
5. Wherefore finding it so solidly proved and so often repeated by the holy Fathers, that it is most profitable and most perfect to withdraw ourselves from all things created, and the more we withdraw ourselves, the more safe and perfect we shall be: we may easily conclude, that nothing can be more profitable than a Religious state, by which we compass this thing most perfectly and most completely. For certainly there can be no greater renunciation of all things then that, which is practised in Religion, where not only Poverty is professed, but a man is so wholly bereft of the dominion and possession of every thing, that he cannot say, that this piece of land, or this house, or (as Cassian expresseth it) not so much as this garment, 
Cassian. l. 4. c. 15.  or this penknife, or quill is his own. And it taketh away moreover all other things, by which men are wont to bolster-up their life, or solace their mind; as the use of friends, the favour of Princes, the alliance of wife and children, finally all earthly things, and whatsoever is of any esteem or price in the world. Wherefore S. Bernard doth extol the greatness of this benefit, 
S. Bernard s. de quadr. deb.  as it deserveth, so highly, as he is not afraid to entitle all Religious people to complete Happiness; for this reason only, because they have found-out a more compendious way to Heaven, by abandoning absolutely all things of this world. It is true, saith he, the ascent to Jerusalem is steep and difficult, in regard it is cut straight out from the very top of the mountain; but the compendiousness of the way doth temper, or rather wholly take away, the greatness of the ●aynes; and with happy facility, and easy felicity, you do not only go, but run; because you are both unloaded and girt, and carry no kind of weight upon your back. It is not so with some others; it is not so with those, that loaded with carts and cartload, have taken their course by the winding of the hill; and usually tumble down headlong by the sides of the mountain, so that they scarce find how to bring their life to an end. Thrice happy therefore are you, that have forsaken yourselves, and all that belonged unto you, without all exception Which only sentence of S. Bernard well considered is sufficient to persuade us to prefer a Religious state, before all Princely treasures and command. For what stupidity can be greater, then, seeing we must not only all of us run (as the Apostle teacheth) but (as S. Bernard saith) we must run up-wards against the hill, which of itself is wonderful difficult, voluntarily to charge ourselves with diverse weights, and moreover with continual care and solicitude to increase and multiply those weights, which, if we did right, we should rather wholly castof from us?   

Of the benefit of Religious Poverty. CHAP. IX.  
HItherto we have spoken of the commodities of a Religious State in general, now we are to treat of the particular utilities which are found in it; & first of the benefit which ariseth from the three Vows proper & essential to Religion. And we will begin with Poverty, because it is the first step to Perfection, consisting in abandoning the things which are without us; 
Commendation of Poverty.  the commodities whereof are in few words excellently well setforth by Climacus: Povertie is a riddance of worldly cares; 
Clima●us.  a passage to God without stop or hindrance; an expelling of grief; a foundation of peace, and cleanness of life; it freeth us from the sorrows of this transitory world, and enableth us to perform the Commandments of God with perfection, S. Bonaventure writ a whole Treatise, 
S. Bonaven. in Apol. paup●r.  of this subject only in a manner, entitled an Apology for the Poor; in which he handleth many things devoutly as a Saint, and learnedly as a Divine; and among the rest, he layeth a certain ground, which doth greatly declare not only the profit of Poverty, but a kind of necessity of professing it. And thus he discourseth: 
1. Tim. 6.10.  Covetousness (as the Apostle saith) is the root of all evil; for from it and from Pride (which always goeth hand in hand with it) all sins have their beginning, their nourishment, and increase. Whereupon S. Augustin calls it the foundation of the city of Babylon. This covetousness is seated in the affection of our mind, as the proper seat thereof, but feedeth itself upon the things which outwardly we possess; and consequently the utter abolishing of this vice must needs comprehend both the internal and the external; that not only the inward thirst be quenched, but the outward possession also of things of this world be forsaken; the one is performed in will and spirit, the other in fact and outward work; whereupon he concludeth, that as Covetousness is the foundation of Babylon (as we said before) so chose Povertie is to be esteemed in very deed the groundwork of all Euangelical perfection, we being thereby conformed to our Saviour Christ our Lord and Lawgiver, who, when he drew the platform of the new jerusalem descending from heaven, began with this virtue, as the foundation of all the rest, saying: Blessed are the poor in spirit. This is the discourse of S. Bonaventure. 
Mat●. 5.  And that which he saith, is very true; for if we consider well, we shall find seven wonderful great commodities of Religious Poverty.  

 2. The first is, that it taketh away the weapons and furniture from all kind of sins and vices; the importance whereof hath been sufficiently declared before, when we spoke of the great damages which come by riches; for it doth not only pul-downe Pride, Arrogancy and haughtiness, and many other mischiefs, growing from abundance and plenty, as smoke doth from fire; but it taketh from us that very power of committing diverse sins, because many 〈◊〉 things are wrought by occasion of money and of that strength which money puts into men's hands. Wherefore if no other commodity did accrue unto us, but only that it enforceth upon us a kind of necessity of living well, it were highly to be esteemed; and voluntarily to put ourselves upon this necessity, cannot choose but be exceeding profitable for Salvation. But it doth not only hinder us from sin, but bringeth with it many excellent Virtues, as Temperance, Modesty, and chiefly Humility; which ver●ue hath a particular kind of affinity with Poverty, and is as it were cousin 〈…〉 unto it. 
S 〈…〉 ep ad Hebr  Which S. 〈◊〉 giveth us to understand in a certain 〈◊〉, saying. A Christian is more glorious in Poverty then in Riches. How can that be because it keepeth a man from s●elling Pride; he that is poor, cann●● be lofty, but rather obedient, modest, meek, wise; but he that hath much wealth, hath many things which hinder him from welldoing 〈◊〉 let us see, what a rich man doth: He seizeth upon that which is not his own, he burns with untemperate desire; he gives the reynes to his last; he leaveth no mischief unatchieved; Is it not plain that these things are b●ed by 〈◊〉 And you may also perceive, that by Poverty all virtue is more easily gotten. And do not tell me, that rich men in this life are under no man's correction; for it is very true, that among all other evils, Riches have also this, that they defend and guard those that live wickedly, that they may commit sin more boldly, and stand in awe of nothing, nor be controlled by any body. So saith S. john 〈◊〉.  

The second commo 〈…〉  3. A second commodity of Religious Poverty is, that it is a great means to bl●t-out the sins of our former life, and to satisfy for them; and to this purpose it seemeth the holy-ghost spoke by Esay the Prophet, saying: 
Esay. ●8. 10.  〈◊〉 have boiled thee throughly, but not as sinner; I have chosen thee in the furnace of Poverty; for where he saith: I have chosen thee; it is as much as to say: I have purged, or refined thee, and made thee so perfectly good, that thou deserved to be chosen and loved. Wherefore as all kinds of metal are severed in the f●rnace from droste and refuse, and from whatsoever is base and of no esteem and value, and come forth far more clear and pure than they 〈…〉; so Poverty giving matter of exercise both to body and mind, 〈…〉 vice from them both. 
S. Gregory Home 4●. in Euang.  Whereupon S. Gregory hath this excellent 〈◊〉: The fire of want purged Lazarus his offences; and the pro 〈…〉 rewarded the good deeds of the Rich man; Povertie afflicted him and cleansed him; this man was requited with plenty, and rejected; whosoever therefore you be that in this life have well to live, when you call to mind any good deed that you have done, it behoveth you greatly to be afraid by occasion of it, lest the prosperity, which is bestowed upon you, be a recompense for those good deeds of yours; and when you see those, that are poor, to do a thing that is blameworthy, do not contemn them, do not despair of them; for perhaps those that the superfluity of a small offence doth defile, the furnace of Poverty doth refine.  
4. The third fruit of Poverty is, 
The thi●d fruit of Poverty.  that it freeth a man from unprofitable trading in these perishable goods. For our soul being immortal, and given us by God, to the end that in the short term of this life, we may pain Immortality, it is great folly to employ so excellent a nature, and out time also, which is so precious, upon that which is always decaying, always fading and perishing. Povertie therefore, which we profess in Religion giveth us leave to employ ourselves wholly, upou the love and pursuit of eternity, taking no thought for earthly things for we are not busied neither with husbanding of grounds, nor gathering of rents, nor putting-forth of money, nor following of suits, nor with any other worldly matter; which vacancy from all care & thought, must needs be of great use in this our heavenly Philosophy, seeing the ancient Heathens in their earthly Philosophy did esteem it so absolutely needful. For Z●no as S. Gregory Na●ianzen relateth, 
Zeno.  when he had cast all overboard in a tempest by sea, said: O fortune, I thank thee for returning me to my 〈…〉. But Crates far ●etter; 
Crates.  for, as S. Hierome writeth, he was very rich, and did not by constraint but of his own good will and choice, cast a great sum of money into the sea because he was persuaded that he could not well give himself to Philosophy, and keep his wealth. And all the whole pack of them were of the same mind; and chief Seneca, 
Seneca Ep. 17.  that great commender of the Stoics; for no man ever spoke more largely, or better to the purpose, concerning a spare kind of living; and among other things, he saith thus: If thou wilt have thy mind free from trouble, thou must either be poor, or like to the poor. Study doth not profit, without care of frugality.  
5. A fourth commodity of Poverty is, 
〈…〉 Poverty.  that it suffereth not our mind to cleave to these base and abject things; the affection to them, being the source of all mischief. To which effect S. Gregory hath a pretty passage; for he saith, that travellers, as they pass on their way, meet oftentimes with pleasant meadows, and willingly entertain themselves in them; sometime, they step out of the beaten path into them, and so the delight which they take in the pleasantness of the way, doth hinder them from making haste on their journey; therefore God is wont to make the ways of this world tough and unsavoury to the Elect, that seek after him, least delighting themselves with the case of this life, as with pleasant fields, they c●ue● rather 〈◊〉 to travel, then quickly to come to their journey's end; and pleasing themselves in their travels, they forget what they desired in their country. This thing therefore which the wisdom of God doth work in his Elect (according as S. Gregory teacheth) every Religious man doth perform in himself, 
S. Greg 23. mor c. 14.  when bereaving himself of worldly commodities, he undergorth the incommodities of penury and want, that nothing of this life may delight him, and hinder his journey but that rather he may have as many spurs in his course to Heaven, as he endureth troubles and vexations in this world. And being thus weaned from the love of all temporal things, that holy and wholesome affection, which the Apostle acknowledgeth to have been in himself, is bred in them all, esteeming that they have not here a permanent city, 
Heb. 13.14.  or dwelling, but are always seeking after that which is to come.  

The fifth commodity of Poverty.  6. The fifth utility, which Poverty doth bring unto us, is, that as itself is greatly in the love and favour of God, so it causeth all those, that espouse themselves unto it, to be highly loved and favoured by him; by reason whereof he bestoweth upon them daily great benefits and spiritual graces. We need no other testimony that God doth love Povertie, then to see that his Infinite Majesty coming down from heaven, was pleased to associate himself so near unto it, takin flesh of parents that were poor (though of a Royal stock) and making choice of the poorest place on earth for his birth, 
The love which our Saviour 〈◊〉 to Poverty.  not so much as a little house, or cottage, or shepherd's cabin, but a stable of beasts, belonging to others, in the cold of winter, and the night-season, what should we stand to speak of the rest of his life, seeing he had no place where to put his head, and wa● relieved by the alms of other folk? That Eternal Word, I say, was relieved, in whom are all treasures, and by whom all things are made. And can any man doubt but that he will love in others that, which he loved in himself & made choice of, and powreout abundance of very special blessings upon those in whom he shall find it? We shall not need to stand conjecturing about the mat●er for we see what he at done already, so long as he lived and conversed on earth those with whom he lived most, and were his most familiar acquaintance, were not rich & wealthy people, but the poorer & vulgar sort, for four of them were fisher men, one was a gatherer of Toll & Custom, and the rest were much of the like stamp. No man can bei norant, how at the selfsame instant when he was borne, he made himself presently known to poor people, with great demonstration of love and honour towards them; sending from heaven a company of blessed Angels to tell them, that he was come into the world, & inviting them to himself by word, & by an extraordinary light, and a most sweet consort of music, as if he had longed for their presence & acquaintance. How many noble persons according to the flesh (saith S. Bernard) how many great men, 
S. Bernard. ser. ● de Natour.  how many wise men of this world, were taking their rest at that hour in their soft beds? & none of them was esteemed worthy to behold that light, to taste of that great joy, to hear the Angels singing. From whence the Saint draweth this argument: If our Lord and Saviour did bear so great love to those poor people, that were poor by necessity, certainly he will bear far greater love to those that are voluntarily poor, and have forsaken all that they had, merely for his love. This is a benefit of all benefits, because they, whom God doth love, can want no kind of thing that is good; no grace, no light, no benefit, nothing at all can be desired by man, which he will not most liberally bestow upon them.  

The sixth commodity of poverty.  7. The sixth commodity of Religious Poverty is very great, and worthy to be considered. For as among the evils which are bred by riches, we declared before, that the excess of delight and pleasure arising of them, is very poison and death to our souls, so chose in poverty, the spare diet, and mean fashion of living, is very profitable for salvation. For as we season dead flesh with salt, to dry-up the abundance of moisture, and preserve it from corruption; so our living flesh, unless it be dried and preserved by abstinence and austerity, will certainly perish with delicacy and wanton lust; and no wonder, because the affinity and nearnes of our soul and body is so great, that they must needs infect one an other with their vicious inclinations, 
S. Basil ●●as. 1. de●● un●o.  and, as S. Basil speaketh, while our flesh is lusty and fresh, our spirit becomes dull and carnal. And S. john Chrysostome saith, 
S. Io Chrysos●. Hom. ● in Gen.  that sobriety is as it were the wings of our soul, wherewith it beareth itself above the earth, and is enabled to soar on-high by Contemplation.  
8. Finally, 
The seaventh commodity of Poverty.  to comprehend in one word all the commodities of Religious Poverty, what can be spoken more full and effectual then that which our Saviour saith of it: Blessed are the poor in spirit, for theirs is the kingdom of heaven; in few words expressing the present and future happiness of it? 
Matth. 5.  And it is not without special cause, that for the most part he promiseth a reward for other virtues after this life; but for Poverty he appointeth presently the Kingdom of heaven; either because the hope thereof is so assured and so free from hazard, as if it were in our own present power and command; or because it is so free from all worldly care, that in this very life it giveth a taste and earnest of the felicity which we shall hereafter enjoy. Wherefore Religious people may worthily make account, that in this one virtue of Poverty they have a very great and rich treasure, to which the infinite reward of that Infinite Good is due, which neither eye hath seen, nor ear hath heard, neither hath it ascended into the hart of man. And every one may esteem it as a thing proper to himself, which S. Augustin saith of all; 
S Aug ser. 1. de Verbie Apos●o●.  that the happiness of Christians is exceeding great, in regard they may make Poverty the price of the kingdom of heaven; let not thy Poverty be distasteful to thee; there can be nothing found more rich; wilt thou know how rich it is? it buyeth Heaven. What mass of treasure can be compared with the worth which we see granted to Poverty? 
Povertie buys Heaven.  A rich man cannot find means to come to heaven by enjoying lands and possessions, but by contemning them he finds means to compass it. And much more he speaketh in commendation of Poverty; but that is remarkable that he saith: that God did us a very great good turn, when he comprised the sum and total of all felicity, in Having nothing. For if he had placed it in riches, few men could have had the means and ability to attain unto it, and not without great labour and travail; but having placed it in the contempt of riches, every man that will, hath power and means to get it.  
8. For these and the like reasons the Saints of God full of heavenly light, have been as affectionately addicted to Poverty as any worldly man can be to riches, and laboured as hotly to preserve themselves in poor estate, as others to increase their wealth. Among whom S. Francis is most eminent; 
S Bonavent. in the life of S. Francis.  of whom S. Bonaventure (an Author renowned for sanctity and learning) doth write: that he was so dear a friend of Poverty, & loved it so entirely, that a man would think, he searched all the corners of the world for it to espouse it to himself with perpetual love; and for the love of it, he forsook father and mother, and all things which he might have enjoyed. And 〈◊〉 brethren often ask him, what virtue makes a man most acceptable to our Saviour Christ, he was wont to answer wi●h very particular and extraordinary affection, that it is Poverty, and that Poverty is the way to Salvation, the nurse of humility, the root of perfection, and hath many hidden s●ui●, and commodities, known to very few.   

Of the benefit of Religious Chastity. CHAP. X.  
NExt unto Poverty, of which we have hitherto discoursed, we will speak of Chastity; the commodities whereof are so much the richer than th●se of Poverty; by how much our body is nearer unto us, than our wealth and outward substance▪ and the affections thereof more violent and pernicious, 〈◊〉 they be not restrained. These affections, Chastity doth 〈◊〉; and the 〈◊〉 of it is, that every man may know, as the Apostle speaketh, 〈…〉; 
1. 〈…〉 4  that is, his body (as Cassian do●h in 〈◊〉) which is as a vessel and receptacle of the soul. To understand th● greatness of the benefit of Chastity it might be sufficient to weig duly that which we have said before, 
Cas●●●n. lib ● c. 1●.  of the beastliness of carnal pleasure, and the exceeding harm it doth us But whereas there be two kinds of these pleasures, to wit, some that are utterly unlawful and forbidden; and some again that are lawful, but confined within the limits of Marriage: we shall not need to say any more of the first, then that which we find delivered by the Apostle, that they who do such things, shall not possess the kingdom of heaven: 
G●l. ●. 21.  but then part, (as it is said in the apocalypse) shall be in the burning lake of fire and brimstone, 
Apo. 21 8.  which is the second deat●. We will only consider what helps Religion doth afford towards the extinguishing of the flames of lustful desire●, which that Leviathan is wont to raise, whose breath doth make 〈…〉 in burn. 
.   
2. The first 〈◊〉, that it taketh away the matter which is wont to kindle 〈…〉, to wit, 
 the si●ht, and speech of thin●s that are dangerous; dangerous 〈…〉 and 〈…〉, and 〈…〉 occasion and commodity, which 〈◊〉 always one of the greatest incitements to sin. These are the engines, whereby many an able man hath been often overthrown and subdued, and 〈…〉 the Prophet speaketh) t●ose that were broughtup 〈…〉, have 〈◊〉. Against which there is no better defence, then to betake ourselves 〈…〉 distant out of the reach of such allurements. For as it is well 〈…〉 where S. Vaul 〈◊〉 us resist and strive against all other 〈…〉 us 〈◊〉 from fornication; and the flight is very honourable which 〈…〉 by example of chaste I●●eph, who let 〈◊〉 his cloak, and 〈…〉 kind of fire, and by that which the Wiseman adviseth saying: 
Ecel. 9.5.  Behold not the face of a virgin, lest her countenance stumble thee. And among many other things he brings the lamentable fall of King David; who though he were so great a man, and so great a Prophet, with one glance of his eye was catched; and may justly be a perpetual warning for every body ever since. Therefore, saith he, let no man deceive himself with overmuch confidence; let no man presume dangerously of his own forces, but give ear to the Apostle saying: Fly from fornication. Now by entering into Religion we utterly fly from it; in regard that it separateth us from company, and conversation; and is unto us, as a castle and strong fortification. And conformably to this doctrine, 
P●s●●don in the use of S. August.  S. Augustin himself (as Possidonius Bishop of Calame writeth of him) would not only not dwell in house with other women, or have any familiarity with them: but not with his own sister and brother's daughter; not so much in regard of themselves, as of other women that would be coming unto them.  
3. Besides this flight and precaution, 
Obedience a special defence of Chastity.  Obedience is a special defence of Chastity; which S. Bernard in particular doth teach, saying, that the earth, which our Lord doth promise in possession to the me●ke, is our body, which if our soul be desirous to possess, and to reign over the members thereof, it must be meek, 
S. Bernard s. 1. de omn. sanct●s.  and obedient to superior powers; and doth not stick to say, that when the flesh rebelleth against the spirit, it is a sign, that the soul is not so subject to Superiors as it ought: and chose if the soul be subject, it will find the body also obedient and in subjection.  
4. The third help to Chastity, is the practice of all kind of virtue, as of Prayer and Meditation, and such other exercises, which of their own nature increase spirit and devotion; for what we add to our mind, we take away from our body; and as our mind is strengthened, our body must needs be weakened. To which purpose S. john Chrysostom saith, 
S. john Chrysostome.  that Chastity when it is left alone to itself, is weak and infirm, and hath not strength enough to stand by itself; and to take away the continual practice of other virtues from it, is as it were to cut the sinews of it; but together with other virtues it is able and strong: For as trees, that are planted in a fat soil, bring forth fruit; so the soil in which Chastity will always flourish, 
Chast●●● is weak without practice 〈◊〉 other virtues'.  is the concurrence of other virtues. Finally the root of Chastity, is a life conformable to the Cross of Christ, that is, a life which is not given to ease and daintiness, but hardened with labour and patience. Wherefore it is certain that a Religious life, is a most strong defence against all dishonesty, preserving them, that live in it, pure, entire, and incorrupt, without any great labour or pains to be taken on their part. 
To 〈◊〉 is an 〈◊〉 way 〈…〉   
5. Let us now speak of the other kind of pleasure, which wedlock (as I said before) doth make honest, and acquit of all imputation of sin. And certain it is, though the duties of Marriage may be performed without offence to God, yet to cutof all pleasure in this kind also is not only more beneficial, but an easier and a more ready way to save our souls. Which truth is grounded upon the authority of S. Paul, who in his first Epistle to the Corinthians having rehearsed many commodities of being chaste, saith: It is good for a man to be so. Whereupon S. Hierome addeth: If it be good for a man to be so, it is i'll for a man not to be so. And the evils belonging to Marriage are also there set down at large by the same Apostle, 
Three incommodities of wedlock  and may be reduced to three heads, to wit, Servitude, Tribulation, and Division of mind; as he termeth them. The Servitude of Marriage is described by him in these words: The woman hath not power over her own body, but the man; in like manner also the man hath not power over his own body, but the woman. This is no small kind of servitude, that the command of ones body should be in the power of an other; 
S. john Chrysost. de Virg c. 41.  which S. john Chrysostome doth set forth very lively, saying: Dost thou not see the necessity which is in this business, a slavery which can not be avoided? dost thou not see two tied in ropes together? For the bond of wedlock is like fetters, not only in regard of the daily troubles and cares, but because it keepeth them that are married in such a servitude, as no slave is more at command of his master, than they are in each other's power. The Husband, saith our Lord, shall be lord over the wife. But what availeth it the husband to be lord, 
Gen. 2.  seeing he is liable to the like servitude under her, that is subject to him? Where moreover he compareth man and wife to two fugitive slaves, that are so coupled together, that though they run from their master, they must notwithstanding needs follow one an other, and cannot get asunder. Which S. Paul also doth insinuate in those words: 
1. Cor. 7.  Art thou tied to a wife? And to show that this bond cannot be broken, he presently addeth: Do not seek to be loosened. But this servitude (which of itself is very hard (specially being perpetual) is made much more hard and heavy, when the parties chance to light upon a stern and peevish master, as it doth often, or rather most commonly, fall out; or upon a master that hath but little wit to govern, which is yet much more intolerable. The holy-ghost expresseth the misery thereof in the Proverbs in these words: It is better to dwell in a land that is desert, 
Prou. 21.19 Prou. 19.13  then with an angry and contentious woman. And again: A wrangling woman is like a house, where it always rain through. By which familiar examples we are given to understand the excessive trouble and misery, which they undergo that once put their neck under this yoke. Wherefore me thinks, when our Saviour abrogated the custom of divorce, which for some time was permitted in the Old Law, the Apostles had great reason to say with common consent: If the case of man be thus with his wife, it is not expedient to marry. 
Mat. 19.10.  And indeed it is not expedient; for though the bond might be broken upon occasion, yet it were not expedient to put ourselves into such setters, though it were but for a time; much less, seeing this bondage is perpetual, and never after to be avoided. Religious people therefore are free from these impediments; and as married people do hinder one another, so they are free from being hindered; and are at all times at liberty, not only to run, but to fly in the way of the Commandments of God.  

The second incommodity of wedlock.  6. The second incommodity of marriage, is that which the Apostle calleth Tribulation of the flesh. For the discovery whereof, we shall not need much to busy our wits; for we may see it with our very eyes; We cannot put our head into any house or family, but we shall find it full of infinite care and trouble: If it be rich, there is trouble in menaging their riches; if it be poor and in want, what a do is there to find relief? If they have many children, they are troubled in bringing them up; if they have daughters, they know not how to bestow them; and to stand to reckon the calamities, which beside are incident to every body, by the imparing of their estates, or the miscarriage of their children, and other troubles and vexations of mind, were an endless business; for they are continual, and rush-in upon them on every side. But there is one thing heavier than all the rest, which the Apostle doth point at, when he doth not barely call it Tribulation, but Tribulation of the flesh; For when we take pains for things that are spiritual, and for the saving of our souls, and the service of God, it bringeth great comfort with it, and hath a great reward prepared; but to toil in earth, and in carnal businesses, if we aim no higher, hath no comfortable savour at all, nor hope of recompense. Wherefore S. Chrysostome his observation upon that verse of the Psalm (Virgins shall be brought to the King after her; they shall be brought in joy and exultation) is very true and pertinent to our purpose. Behold, saith he, 
S. john Chrysostom jam Ps. 44.  how the saying of the Apostle is here made manifest; They that marry, shall have tribulation of the flesh; and as they shall have tribulation, so these shall have joy and exultation; for they must of necessity bewail their children, their husbands, their houses, their servants, their kinsfolk, their sons and fathers-in-law, and their newphewes; the abundance, or want, or loss of children. But a Virgin crucified, and exempt from things present, walking above the ca●es of this life, having her eyes daily fixed in heaven, and now past this dangerous passage of the sea, is fed with gladness of spirit, and rejoiceth with exultation.  
7. The next incommodity is Division; 
The third incommodity of wedlock.  whereof S. Paul saith in the same place: He that is with a wi●e, is careful of the things of this world, how he may please his wife, and is divided; she that is married, thinketh of the things of this world, how she may please her husband. Religious people therefore have this benefit above others, by means of their Continency and Chastity; that they may offer their hearts whole and entire to God, nothing impaired by this kind of division. 
S. Greg. Hom. 16. in Ezech.  Which difference betwixt the two state, S. Gregory doth very well express in these words: Those that are married, ●hough they live well, and desire to see God, are troubled notwithstanding with hous-hold-affaires; and their mind of necessity is divided betwixt both: But those that live chaste, being severed from the employments of this world, and abstaining from that pleasure of the flesh, which they might have in lawful wedlock, are not entangled with care of wife and children, nor in hurtful and troublesome thoughts of household-busines. 
A twofold division in wedlock.  This which S. Gregory speaketh of, is the first division belonging to wedlock; and containeth in itself as many divisions and distractions, as there be several things in this world to care for. But there is an other division far worse than this, to wit, the division of our love. For when we must give part thereof to our wife, and part to our children, and part to others of the same flesh and blood; a small parcel, God knows, or none at all, will be left for God. Which though it be true of all things upon which we set our affection, yet it is much more sensible in the love of those that are near in blood; because our affection is by nature more violently bend towards them. 
Aristotle 8. & 15. ●. 1●.  Aristotle saith, that no love can be greater than that which parents have towards their children, because they love them as part of themselves, and as a parcel cutof from them, yea as another self. And the like he affirmeth of the love which is betwixt man and wife, that it is most natural unto us, and taketh place before all other bonds of friendship, as one household is before a City, which is compounded of many household; finally that the affection of brethren among themselves is much of like nature and force, because they issue all from one stock, and are all one with their parents; and consequently one among themselves. Seeing therefore the natural affection to our kindred is so forcible, it must needs follow that our love will be so divided and distracted among them, that none of it can come to God; or if he also have part of it, it will be so little and so cold, that it cannot but be a great wrong to that Infinite Goodness, whose will is (and certainly he doth deserve it) that we love him with our whole hart, our whole soul, & our whole strength.  

S Augustin l. 10. cons. c. 19  8 These evils are avoided by Chastity and they that embrace it, have none of these hindrances, but may powreout their whole love upon God. To which purpose S. Augustin saith, that by Continency we are gathered in, and brought home again to that One from which we were distracted and fallen-of in●o many things; which One thing is God, the only Sovereign Good, by whose love we are good, 
S. Gregory Nazi●n●● Or. 3●.  and by enjoying him, eternally blessed. And S. G●egorie Na●●anzen in commendation of Chastity saith, that as the water, which is conveyed close in conduits of lead, spouteth higher than the weight thereof doth naturally allow, because it is much pressed and driven thick together; so if as ●uled ● gather all her love together, and do not suffer it to run out upon creatures, but pour it forth upon God, it will still ●ise up-wards, and never fall down upon earth. 
S. Basil. 〈◊〉 More 〈◊〉 c. 1.  Wherefore S. Basil was not much awry, when having reckned-up the incommodities and infinite cares (for so he speaketh) of a conjugal life, at last he addeth concerning the happiness of Religious people, to whom he wrote, that whosoever desires to be freed from the bonds of this world, must avoid wedlock as plain fetters, and consecrate his life to God, professing Chastity. For he that so doth having resolved with himself to love God alone, and longing to taste of that purity and tranquillity of his (which is void of all trouble) and of the joy and gladness which riseth thereof, seeketh nothing but how he may perfectly withdraw his mind from all affinity with any material thing, and from all alteration rising from the body; and contemplate things Divine with a clear eye, free from obscurity, receiving light from heaven unfatiably.  
9 But there is yet an other thing in this business well to be considered. For of all Christian virtues, which our Lord and Saviour hath specially commended unto us, 
E●angelical Pou●rt●●, & 〈…〉 to be found in ●edlock. ●. Cor 12. S. Io Chris. de Virg. c. 7●  two are of greatest note, to wit, Euangelical Povertie (of the commodities whereof I have already spoken) and Fraternal Charity; of which I shall speak hereafter at large. These two, as great and as beneficial as they are▪ are not to be found in a Conjugal state; but in a Religious state they are inbred and essential. For how can Povertie be, where wife, and children, and family, and all things else, do put us upon a necessity of hoarding? to use the word of S. Paul. And I find that S. john Chrysostom doth reckon Poverty for a special commodity of a single life. For in the Book which h● wrote of Virginity, having brought the examples of Helias, Helizaeus, & S. john Baptist, he saith If these men had had wife & children they could not have endured to live in the desert, & forsaken their families, & not provided things necessary for 〈◊〉 & sustenance; but now free from all these ties, dwelling on earth as if they had been in heaven, they wanted neither house, no● bed, nor shed, nor table, nor any such kind of things, but heaven was their covering, the earth was their couch, the wide wilderness was their board, and the very barrenness of the desert, which famisheth other solk, did furnish those holy men with plenty of all kind of things; they stood not in need of vine●, or winepresses, or corn, or harvest; but the fountains and rivers yielded them abundance of sweet drink; and for one of them, and Angel furnished a table with wonderful provision far beyond that which men do use. Thus saith S. john Chrysostom concluding, that Poverty is very easy, when we are not bound to wait upon a wife, and have no charge of children.  
10. The like we may say of Fraternal Charity, and mutual conversation; for where women are, 
S August. l. 6. Conf. ●● 14.  there is no living. To which purpose S. Augustin relateth of himself a thing worthy observation, that when he was yet a Manichee, he and diverse other friends of his, 
How women hinder mutual conversation.  being weary of the turmoils of this world plotted together a kind of life resembling somewhat a Religious course; for they resolved to withdraw themselves from company and to meddle with nothing; and whatsoever any of them had, they should bring it forth, and put it in common, that no body might say, this was his, or the other an other's but that which came from all, should belong wholly to every one of them, and all of it, to every body. Now when this project was very much applauded by every one, and all of them did think themselves happy in such a kind of life, the business was instantly dashed by occasion of the women, which some of t●em had already, and some of them were desirous to have; and so breaking-of they turned themselves (as S. Augustin speaketh) to groans and sighs, and bend their course to the bread and trodden paths of the world. Therefore they that enter upon marriage, deprive themselves of this and much more; whereas in Religion, nothing is more in force, or more common.  
11. But Chastity hath yet an other commodity, which may be worthily esteemed one of the greatest▪ For there is no question, 
A● the act of marriage doth 〈◊〉 a man's mind, so doth Continence purity and ennoble it.  but all pleasure belonging to the body, and most of all that which is ordained for generation, doth much aba●e the edge of the mind, and pull it down from the constant, upright, & manly state which doth become it; and the reason is, because for as much as concerneth the body, and specially that action of the body, we do not greatly differ from beasts; so that whensoever the mind doth stoop to that action, it becometh in a manner flesh, and of so base and brutish a disposition, as the action itself is vile, abject, and earthly; and by often use, it groweth so dull and lumpish, that it cannot think of any higher matter, or raise itself to things more generous and Divine, because it hath abased itself to a thing so abject and contemptible; which dulness and obscurity groweth upon the mind not only by use of unlawful pleasure, but also by that which is lawful; and in this kind, they are alike hurtful. Whereupon S. Augustin saith: 
S. August. c. 1. so●loq.  I do not find any thing that doth so much pull down the courage of man from the top of Virtue, as the dallying with women, and that nearnes of bodies, without which a wife cannot be had; so that nothing can be more to the commendation of Chastity, or more glorious than that, as the functions of Matrimony do prostrate the mind and abase it, so Continency and purity, doth raise and perfect it; and the less communication it hath with flesh, the more lively it is, the spirit of man remaining fully spiritual, and in good disposition to receive divine impressions, to converse in heaven; and that the uncertain and hidden things of that heavenly wisdom may be made manifest unto it; 
Psal. 52.  for all which, we have need of light; which light is stopped by the dark clouds that rise from such gross exhalations as those of the body are. Wherefore as Cassian saith well, 
C●ssian l. 8. c. 6.  that every motion of anger (whether it be just or unjust) doth blind the eyes of our hart; and when they are blinded, it skils not whether they be blinded with a plate of lead, or of gold: so we may say of this kind of delight, that for as much as concerneth the dulling of our mind, it is much one, whether the cause be lawful or not lawful; as Aegidius (one of the first companions of S. Francis) answered once a secular man very wittily, who bragging that he lived chaste, 
A witty s●●ng and 〈◊〉 of A●gidius.  and was faithful to his wife. Why (say●● he) may not a man as well be drunk, of his own vessel? For if a man be drunk, that is, if his reason be confounded, and as it were drowned in lickour, the matter is n●t great from whence he had his wine, so it were wine. Where we may learn by the way, the nature of this remedy, which is allowed to humane infirmity in matrimoine; for it doth not take away the disease, but rather it give, 
Concupiscence not cured by marriage.  matter for the disease to feed-on without offending God. For as if a man have a Fistula, or a canker there be two degrees of healing it; the one perfect and complete, so that the flesh becomes fully sound and solid; the other imperfect, which leaves a sore, but takes away somewhat of the foulness of it, and covereth it with clothes and swathing bands: So in the state of Continency, the disease of Concupiscence is perfectly cured and takenof, but in the state of Marriage it is not quite taken away, but only qualifyed by the holiness of the Sacrament; so that the difference is very great; for if we go about to cure our sensual inclinations, it is most certain, that it is a great deal more effectual to cut than quite of then to restrain them in part, hoping that they will be less violent if we yield somewhat unto them. 
Aristole 3. E●h. c. vit.  For (as Aristole observed) the desire of pleasure is unsatiable; & when we think to satisfy it, it is the more inflamed by the exercise of Concupiscence; & when it is in the heat, it taketh away a man's reason from him, 
Concupiscence falls from things l●●ful to unlawful, as in Da●●d and Solomon.  which a body would think were mischief enough, though we go not beyond the bounds of Wedlock. But the mischief is, that the lustful desires, so long as they are said in whatsoever manner, grow so violent, that most commonly they fall from things lawful to that, which is not lawful; of which we cannot have a more famous example then that which hath been showed us in king David, and in his son king Solomon. The one of them being so holy a man, and the other so wise a man, and having each of them not one wife alone (as now adays) but a multitude of wives, their lust was notwithstanding so far from being satisfied, as it was rather greatly incensed and inflamed; so that at last it did most shamefully and most miserably foil the wisdom of the one, and the sanctity of the other; whereas on the other side, of Elias and Helizeus, who lived chaste, there is no such thing recorded; neither have we any reason at all to suspect any such matter of them. To be brief, me thinks, that Secular people that are married, do keep this fierce and cruel beast (like a lion) in a cage, daily feeding it, and consequently making it daily stronger and stronger. And who can be sure that it will not at some time or other breake-out of the cage, and do some great mischief according to the wont custom and nature thereof? Therefore those that live chaste, take the better and the wiser course, not contented to hamper and tie it up in chains and fetters, but they labour by famine, and by often blows to take away the life of it, and to kill it.  
12. Cassian in one of his Collations doth handle this matter excellently well, 
Cassian. co●. 21. c. ●4.  comparing Concupiscence to a flame of fire, which being kindled some time upon necessary occasion in stubble or some other like matter, can hardly afterwards be withheld, but that it will flame-out beyond that which is desired, and not only burn the stubble, but catch upon some other thing that is next it, and so range farther and farther; for so (saith he) doth carnal pleasure, restrained within the bounds of wedlock, set other things on fire also, and the use of it draweth a man on to forbidden excess; but those whom the grace of our Saviour hath inflamed with holy love of Incorruption, do so perfectly consume all the thorns of carnal desires with the fire of Divine Charity, that not so much as the embers of vice can any ways impair the coolness of their integrity. 
S. john Chrysostom.  Finally S. john Chrysostom was also of this mind, as we may read in that rare Apology which he wrote in in behalf of a Monastical estate; and among many other proofs he confirmeth it by the verdict even of secular people themselves, acknowledging that a Religious course is the safer and more assured course of life. And that whereas Secular people think and say, that we have a more hard task and warfare in hand, than they have, to wit, the preserving of Chastity, in regard that they have wherewithal to satisfy their lust; 
Lib. 3.  he answereth, that they are very much deceived; and proveth it, because you shall see (saith he) many more married folk than Monks, that have fallen; and that there be not so many by far that out of their Monasteries have betaken themselves to marriage, as there be of those, that from marriagebed have gone after common strumpets. Much more might be said of the excellency and pleasure which is in Chastity; but because in this place we treat only of the utility thereof; we will refer the rest to the Books that follow.   

Of the benefit of Religious Obedience. CHAP. XI.  
OF the three Vows, of which we purposed to treat, Obedience remaineth to be spoken of; which doubtless is greater than either Poverty or Chastity, whether we consider t●e excellency or the merit thereof, or the manifold fruits which come of it. The excellency of Obedience may be gathered out of holy Scripture, preferring it before Sacrifices and Holocausts, that is, before all good works what soever. For so Samuel from the mouth of God, professeth, 
1. Reg. 15.  saying: Obedience is better than Sacrifice; and to hearken, is better than to offer the far of rams. Whereupon S. Gregory discourseth thus: 
S. Greg. mor. 35. c. 10.  Obedience is worthily preferred before Sacrifice, because in Sacrifices the flesh of an other thing, by Obedience our will is killed. Every one therefore doth appease God so much the sooner, by how much in his sight curbing the pride of his own free will, he slayeth himself with the sword of his commandment. Whereby we may see how far a Religious life doth surpass, not only a secular life that is vicious and debaushed, but an honest and commendable life. For the best that can be said of a secular man, is that he giveth himself to good works; which is not to be compared with the perfect and entire oblation of ourselves by perpetual Obedience. 
Obedience ennobleth the att●●●s which of themselves are but mean and ordinane.  And this excellency of Obedience is that which makes it to be so meritorious as it is; for they that order the good which they do, according to their own will and pleasure, do merit no more than the price and worth of the action itself can give them; but Obedience addeth a great deal more; for it doth not only make those actions better which are good in themselves, but ennobleth those that otherwise of themselves are nothing worth; and maketh them exceeding grateful in the sight of God. For what is in itself more ordinary and mean, then to eat and drink, to have care of bodily health, to walk for recreation sake, and such like natural or necessary actions: which notwithstanding are highly esteemed of God, if they be performed upon intent of doing that which we are bid to do, by those that have lawful command over us. Wherefore they are in the right, who compare Obedience to a wand, that hath virtue to turn that which it toucheth, into gold, for such a wand would not only make silver and such precious metals, more precious than they are in themselves, but put an incomparable value upon wood, stones, and very earth, which of themselves are little or nothing worth.  

S. Gregory 25. Mor. c. 1●.  2. And if we will know what fruit comes of Obedience, S. Gregory hath comprised an inestimable praise thereof in few words, saying: Obedience is the only Virtue, which planteth all other virtues in the mind, and preserveth them after they are once planted. 
It planteth o●h●r virtues two ways.  It planteth them two several ways: First because the liberal offer of himself, which man makes to God, provoketh God to be bountiful and liberal again towards him; for God is of that disposition and goodness, that he will never suffer himself to be overcome in bounty, and love, and services done unto him; and consequently whosoever shall give himself and all that he hath, freely unto him, shall be sure to receive from him again all spiritual graces, and finally God himself. Secondly it planteth other virtues in the mind, because in the practice of Obedience, we must necessarily practise them all, for when we subject ourselves to an other man for God, we practise Humility in a high degree, putting ourselves under one, to whom in nature we are equal, and in other things perhaps better than he; we practise Patience, undergoing things that are hard & contrary to our will and inclination; we practise Faith, reverencing God, whom we see not, in man whom we do behold, and acknowledging that the care & providence of Almighty God doth watch over us in him, we practise Hope, contemning things present; but charity most of all, and in an action which of itself is very difficult, to wit, preferring the will of God before our own will and pleasure; so that we see that the exercise of all the rarest Virtues of Christian life is contained in this one virtue of Obedience, and consequently that (as S. Gregory teacheth) it doth plant all other virtues in the mind; and while it prospereth, all the rest do prosper and increase. 
It also conserveth them.  It also conserveth them; which is an other benefit and glory of this virtue; for all other virtues in a manner are subject to be wronged, and shaken, and stolen from us by the Devils; who lie like thieves in wait for such precious jewels; and the more they are worth, the more those hellish Fiends do whet their teeth against them; yea the virtues themselves may in some sort be said to destroy themselves, not that there is any fault in them, but through the pride and arrogance of those that possess them; as it happened to Lucifer, 
Esay 14.  who (as Esay the prophet saith) was adorned with all kind of precious stones; but those very ornaments threw him down headlong from the heavenly habitation. But Obedience preserveth itself & the other virtues, which it bringeth with it; because it trusteth not to itself, nor attributeth any thing to itself, nor indeed reserveth any thing for itself; but taking no thought of itself, 
jon. 1●.  it casts itself wholly into the hands of God, out of whose hands no body can take us, as our Saviour saith. For either the Enemy dares not approach, or, if he attempt upon us, it doth now belong to God, in whose hands we are, to sight for us, or to give us so much strength, that we shall easily withstand his fury. And so S. Gregory saith in another place: 
S. Gregory in 4. reg. c. 4.  The exercises of those that do obey, are Sacrifices; for while we are obedient to men for God, we overcome the proud Spirit. With other virtues we fight against the Devils; by Obedience we vanquish them. Wherefore they that are obedient, are conquerors; because while of their own accord they subject their will to others, by Obedience they command over the Angels that are fallen. These are the fruits of Obedience alone; for so S. Gregory speaketh: Obedience is the only virtue which planteth all other virtues in the mind. Whereby it appeareth, how great a good is wanting to all Secular people; and on the other side, how straight, and solid, and short a way Religious people walk to Perfection, their life being nothing else but Obedience, and so finding means by the practice of one only Virtue, to compass all the rest with great ease and expedition. Wherefore Climacus saith, 
Climacus Grad. 4.  that Obedience is a perfect abnegation of our soul and body; a voluntary death; a life void of care; a journey by water without damage; the burial of our will, a life of humility; and as if a man should travel sleeping; that to live in Obedience, is to lay our burden upon an other's shoulders, to swim upon an other's arm, & to be held-up by the chin, that we sink not, but pass the huge gulf of this life without danger, & at a short cut. What could be spoken more pithily in commendation of this Virtue? But where he saith, We travel sleeping, me thinks is specially to be noted, and pondered, for the giveth us to undertand, that by Obedience we are carried like little children in an other's arms, so that all the care & trouble belongs to them that carry us; and where this spiritual journey is toilsome & laborious to some, and dangerous to others, and full of hazard; Religious people have so easy a time of it, by means of this Virtue, that they do not so much as feel their journey.  
3. There is an other commodity of Obedience, in which we may truly say all other commodities are contained; to wit, that it doth subject us, and all our actions, 
Obedience puts us into the immediate and certain direction of God.  to the will & pleasure of God so perfectly, that they are wholly dependant of him, and altogether directed by him. But before we declare, how this is performed by Obedience, we will show the necessity of it. And certainly there is no body but doth find within himself, that in the government of ourselves, and settling the course of our life, there hangs a great mist and obscurity before our eyes, which makes us subject to many errors & faults; whereof holy Scripture doth put us in mind, saying: The thoughts of mortal wights are fearful, 
Sap. 9  and foresight uncertain. For what darkness can be greater, than where we have no notice at all of things to come, and very little of those, which are present? and as for the minds and intentions of other men, with whom we must necessarily converse & traffic, we are so far from understanding them, that most commonly we know not what lurketh in our own breast. Sometimes we think we can do more than indeed we are able to do; sometimes that we cannot do so much; the one thrusting us upon adventures above our strength, the other discouraging us in things that are good for us, and necessary to be undertaken. It is therefore one of the greatest benefits that can befall us, to have some body in so great a night of darkness, to lead us as blind men by the hand, and that we may as it were lean upon their shoulders; much more to have God for our leader, whose wisdom is so infinite, that nothing can be hidden from him nothing deceive him, and his power and goodness is so great that (as S. Augustin telleth us) he hath as much care of every man in particular, 
S. August. 3. Cons. 11.  as if he had that one man only to care for. Whosoever therefore shall light upon so good a fortune, must needs esteem himself wonderfully happy in it, in regard he may confidently say with the Psalmist: 
Psal. 22.  Our Lord doth govern me, and nothing shall be wanting unto me; For the one doth follow of the other; and while God doth govern us, we shall not only want nothing, but he will place us in a place of pasture upon the waters of true refection, that we may have abundant plenty of every kind of thing.  

The Providence of God reacheth to every thing.  4. Now let us see how God doth most truly and most certainly govern us by Obedience; and to make it the more plain and evident, we will search the ground of it to the very root. For though among the ancient Philosophers (as they styled themselues) there were some so shamefully unlearned, as to think that God hath care of no kind of thing without himself, or only of things eternal; yet Faith and Nature doth convince and compel us to believe and profess, 
Sap. 14 3.  as it is in the book of Wisdom; Thy providence, o Father, doth govern all things from the beginning; all things without exception, little and great; he excepteth not the greater, as if he were unable to menage them; nor the lesser, as if he did contemn them, or thought it unworthy of his Greatness and Majesty to look down upon them. The manner also which the Divine wisdom doth hold in the government of this world, is worthy to be observed, & is set down by the holy-ghost in an other place of the same Book in these words: 
Sap. 8.  He doth react from end to end strongly, and disposeth all things sweetly. Here likewise his strength and power is declared, which nothing can withstand▪ as we said before nothing hinder his counsel and providence, nothing escape his hands. The sweetness of his Providence, 
The sweetness of the providence of God.  which is the chiefest part of Wisdom, consisteth in two things; first, in governing every thing as the nature of that thing doth require; things that are necessary, necessarily; things contingent, contingently; those that are free, so as their freedom be preserved; Secondly to govern them orderly in their due rank and proportion, the highest agreeing with those that stand in the middle, the middlemost with those that are below, effects with their causes, precedents with those that are next and consequent, and that this order be never broken or confounded. Wherefore as we see that corn, and other fruits of the earth▪ do not suddenly putforth all at once, and come to full growth and ripeness, but first are small and tender, & by little & little wax ripe by the warmth of the Sun; & the Sun itself, that it may not scorch and burn them up, is tempered with timely showers, & the showers which fall upon the ground to moisten it, fall not suddenly from above, but grow of the vapours which are suckt-up from the earth; and the like course is constantly observed in all works of nature, every thing being produced by an other which is next it, and by some immediate cause; so it was fitting, the same order should be much more observed in actions that are voluntary; they being of a higher strain than the other. For first, it could not have stood with reason, that the wills of all men should have been, as it were, severed and distracted asunder, every one taking a course by himself alone; for what could be more confused? But it was certainly best, that they should be linked one with an other, and ordered dependent of one an other, to that end, which God in his infinite wisdom hath ordained. Secondly it being fitting, that such an order should be established among the wills and intentions of men, it was also necessary, that among them there should be that connexion, which is betwixt a cause, & the effect thereof, that is, that there should be some who move others, and some again that are moved by others But, as S. Thoma● saith, 
S. Th' 2.2. ● 104.  in the order of natural things, those that are of a higher degree, move those that are lower, by a certain force and efficacy, and abundance of virtue inserted in them by God, through which they prevail over those things which they move; but in humane actions no other power doth move, but the Will, which is likewise ordained by God, and doth move by command and precept. For the first and principal rule of all reasonable Wills, being the Will of God, all other Wills are ordered under that Divinie Will, some nearer unto it, & some farther of, as it hath pleased him, who appointeth every thing his place, and as it were his turn and ward.  
5. Thus saith S. Thomas. And it is the ground of an other discourse, which he setteth down more at large in a Book entitled The Regiment of Princes; where he showeth that all power, which one man hath over an other man, is derived from God; & proveth it by many natural reasons, applied to moral government, & drawn from the nature of every Entity, 
The ground of the connexion and dependence one of another which is among all things of this world.  & Motion, & End. For as the foundation of all power and dominion is first to have a being; & every thing that is created, hath his being from one which is not created, So it hath also power & motion; which if it be so necessary in corporal motion, that from the inferior we must pass to those that are higher and higher, till we come to the highest of all motions, which (according to Philosophy) is the motion of the Heavens; much more must this order be kept in spiritual things, in regard they have a near resemblance with him that is the first M●uer of all things, whose nature is spiritual And this Motion is nothing else but the Light of our mind derived from the fountain of all light, which is God.  
6. But the argument which is drawn from the consideration of the End of every thing, is much more convincing and evident. For if God, through his divine providence, do order every man in particular, and every thing that man doth, to some end by himself forethought on; much more doth he order the community of men to some end, because the community is more noble; as the whole is more noble than every part by itself, and hath a higher end. And further, it being necessary that every community be governed by some body, the governors likewise must necessarily be ruled by God, and directed to some end by him; which holy Scripture doth plainly teach us, 
Prover. 8.14.  where the Divine Wisdom is made to speak in this manner: Mine is counsel and equity; mine is prudence; and mine is fortitude. By me Kings do reign, and Lawmakers decree just things; by me Princes do command, and those that are powerful determine justice. 
Authority and ability 〈…〉 do 〈◊〉 come from God.  In which words two things are given us to understand; first, that those that are in authority, come not to their place by chance, or humane policy, but are chosen unto it, and picked-out by God; whereof we have in Saul, and David, and jehu, and many others, m●st evident precedents; secondly that for the government of their place, they receive strength from God, that is, power; and likewise counsel and prudence, that is, light and understanding; whereby oftimes against their will, and when they little think of it, they are brought to do that, which God is pleased should be done. 
Rom. 13.  And this thing is so certain, that S. Paul saying, that they who resist power, resist the ordination of God, giveth this very reason, because there is no power which is not from God. And in an other place upon the same ground he exhorteth servants to obey their carnal masters, 
Eph. 6.5 1 Pet. 2. ●3.  not serving to the eye only, that is, with external work, but from their hart, and willingly; in regard they do the will of God. And ● Peter saith to the same effect: Be subject to every humane creature for our Lord's sake, whether to the king as excelling, or to the leaders as sent from God. Out of all which we may draw a forcible argument, and certain conclusion; that in Religious Orders those that govern, are selected thereunto by the particular providence of Almighty God, and are as his Vice-gerents, governing and directing us by the power and light, which they have received to that end from him. For the argument which S. Basil bringeth, 
S. B●si● 〈◊〉 Monast c. 2. ●  must needs be here in full force If S Paul, saith he, do command Christians and the sons of God, to be subject, not only to them that by law of man have received power of commanding, but even to those that are Infidels and wicked, such as all of them were at that time: what obedience shall be due to him, who is constituted Superior by God himself, and hath received power by the Divine law. In which because we should be no ways doubtful, we have the verdict of our Saviour Christ saying: He that heareth you, heareth me; and he that despiseth you, despiseth me. 
Lu● 10.  Which law, as the same S. Basil noteth, was not delivered and spoken of the Apostles only, who were there present at the proclaiming of it, but is common to all, and comprehendeth all aftercomers, that at any time ever after shall be appointed Governors of other men. For a Prelate, saith he, is no other than one that beareth the person of Christ, 
S Bernard 〈…〉  a Mediator betwixt God and man▪ sacrificing to God their safety, who are under his charge. Whereupon S. Bernard was not afraid plainly to aver, that whether God, or man who is God's Vicegerent, command any thing, it is to be performed with the selfsame care and respect; with this only caution, unless man command that which is contrary to God.  
7. Wherefore having proved so many ways, that God doth govern and direct every Religious man by those, whom he hath placed over them in lawful authority, the benefit which they reap, and their continual happiness, must needs be exceeding great, both in regard that in this mist of darkness, they have fallen upon so sure a guide, and met with such an excellent master, in the ignorance of supernatural and divine things; and in their weakness received so great a stay and defence. Insomuch that we may say with the Royal Prophet, 
Every Religious man is governed by God.  that every Religious man is as a travelling beast, guided with reynes and bridle, by him that sits him; And he that sits us, is our God: our Governors are as it were the bridle; for they likewise are in the hands of God, and do not move, but as they are moved. But commonly we mistake the business, in regard that feeling the bridle, because it is nearer unto us, we heed not him that sits us, because he is farther of; that is, we perceive the voice and command of our Superiors, because we hear them and see them; but because God is beyond the reach of sense, we consider not that every order which they make, comes from him; which very thing, in my opinion, doth most of all, and most plainly show the benefit and necessity of having some body, whom we may see with our eyes, and hear with our ears, to deliver God almighty's will unto us. And it may be declared by that which passeth in the Sacraments instituted by him in his Church for the salvation of mankind For though we might have had Grace & justification given us by Faith only, 
The necessity of having spiritual governors, declared by that which passeth in the Sacraments.  by Penance, & Charity, and other internal actions of our own; yet he thought it better, that we should have certain Sacraments, as conduits of his grace, some consisting in the forms of Bread and Wine, some in Oil, some in the sensible Pronunciation of certain words; And this for two reasons: first because the nature of man consisteth of body and soul, and consequently it was ●itting he should use corporal instruments. To which purpose S. john Chrysostom saith: If thou hadst not a body, he would have given thee naked & incorporeal gifts; 
S john Chrysostome Home 83 in Matth.  but because thy soul is invested in thy body, he presenteth unto thee things intelligible in those, which are sensible. The other reason is, because if the business should have been dealt between God and us inwardly only in our mind, every body would have been full of scruples and doubts, whether he had sorrow enough, or love enough, or done his duty in every other respect, and never have been at quiet, and our life would have been tedious unto us amidst so many difficulties. Wherefore the Divine Wisdom did providently ordain such helps for our Salvation, which we might partly touch with our hands, and see with our eyes, and perceive with other senses. Both which reasons may be applied to our case concerning Religious people. For in regard that our body is one part of us, it was fitting we should be governed and directed by men, that have a body as we have, not by God only, or by his holy Angels, who are merely Spirits; and it belonged to the sweetness of his Providence, of which we spoke before, so to ordain it. Besides that, in this life (and no man must marvel that I often call it darkness) where nothing is more hard and difficult, then to understand what in very deed is the will of God, there could not have been contrived a better thing, and a thing more beneficial for our soul's salvation, than this; being thereby put into a ready way, not only to conceive, but to hear, and see his will, a way so plain and evident that we can neither mistake it, nor doubt of it, nor have any cause to make any stand in the business.  
8. These are the commodities and fruits of Obedience, from which all Secular people are wholly excluded; and I do not speak of them that give themselves over to this world, 
Secular people do want this benefit of direction.  and take no thought for their soul and spirit, but of those who pretend to be spiritual, but yet order their virtuous practices, as they think good themselves; for they must needs go on with more labour and pain, and more slowly, and be always doubtful and uncertain in their resolutions and proceedings, and full of rubs and demurs, and so much the more, the better they are disposed; because on the one side they are desirous to follow punctually the will of God, and on the other side, they have so many mists before their eyes, that it is very hard for them to understand what his will is, and must needs often mistake it; and though they do not mistake it, yet they have cause to be troubled as much as if they did, because they know not when they hit upon it.   

That all Christians are bound to Perfection, and not only Religious people. CHAP. XII.  
Having spoken of the profit in general, both of Religion and of every Religious Vow, we shall hereafter declare many particular commodities and special fruits of this state of life. But before we begin, it will be necessary to take in hand, and rootout a common error, which is among men, esteeming the case of Religious people to be much heavier than it is, and that they stand in much harder terms than others, in regard that their Profession binds them to all perfection and sanctity, whereas secular people (say they) have no such obligation, but may freely be imperfect; 
It is a great error to think that all Christians are not bound to be perfect.  which certainly is most false: for absolutely all men, in regard merely that they are Christians, and have subjected themselves to the laws of the Gospel, have put themselves upon a very great obligation to be perfect. And whosoever shall think this strange, may reflect, and perceive thereby, how much Christianity is decayed from that which was first instituted by Christ our Saviour, and degenerated from the fervour of their forefathers. Wherefore I will bring nothing of mine own to prove this point, but what I shall say, shall be wholly out of holy Scripture, and the ancient Fathers; and specially out of two of them, who have clearly and at large, &, which is the principal, of see purpose handled this subject, that they that oppose it, must either absolutely reject their authority, or admit of their Conclusion.  

S. Basil.  2. First therefore, S. B●sil in that learned and eloquent Homily which he wrote of Relinquishing all things, discourseth, how God, to condescend to the weakness of mankind, hath distributed the life of man into two ranks & states: the one of Wedlock, the other of Continency; that whosoever should not find himself with strength sufficient to undergo the one, might betake himself to the other; yet so as in the state of Marriage they must make account to live as the holy men did live, of whom we read in the Old Testament, specially Abraham: 
Abraham an example of perfection in a secular life, and many others.  who though he heard not the Gospel preached, nor could learn out of it, to sell what he had & give it to the poor; yet his devotion & fervour was so great, that his house & purse was ever open to pilgrims & strangers; & he refused not to lay hands on his own only son at the very first word of God commanding it. And having disputed these and the like things to and fro, he saith further thus: Dost thou not think that the Euangelical law was made for married people also? Dost thou not perceive that an account will be taken, not only of Monks, but of those that have wedded wives, whether they order their lives according as is prescribed in the Gospel? For he that is married, sinneth not in that he useth his wife: but all other commandments being set down equally for all, they that do against them, are in equal danger, whosoever they be. For Christ when he proclaimed the Precept of his Father, spoke to those that were in the world, and followed an ordinary course of life. And if sometimes, upon a question moved by his disciples, he delivered any thing in private, he plainly told them: 
Mar. 13. 3●  That which I say to you, I say to al. Thou therefore that hast chosen a wife, hast no ground to give thyself to idleness, as if thou mightst freely follow the world; 
Secular people obliged to more diligence and care.  but rather hast need to labour, & watch, and strive the more, to save thy soul, because thou hast seated thyself in the midst of all the snares, and in the hart of thy enemy's kingdom, where the allurements of sin are continually before thy eyes, to the desire whereof the whole inclination of thy Sense is perpetually & violently carried. Thou must therefore understand that thou canst not possibly avoid wrestling with the Devil, nor go away with the victory without much labour. For how is it possible to shun this fight with thy Adversary, being already shutup together with him in the pit ordained for it? This pit is the earth compassed round with the circle of the heavens, which (as we read in the History of job) he doth walk round and pass through and through like a mad dog seeking whom he may devour. 
job. 1.  Wherefore if thou wilt not join battle with this Enemy, thou must get thyself into an other world, where he is not; for so thou mayst scape without fight, and bid the precepts of the Gospel Farewell without danger. But if this be impossible, it remaineth that thou learn the art to fight cunningly with him. This is the discourse of S. Basil.  
3. Let us see what S Chrysostom saith, 
●. john Chrysostom.  who in the Book which he wrote against the dispraisers of Monastical life disputing this matter very clearly, hath these words: Thou beguilest thyself certainly, and art mightily deceived, if thou think that one thing is required of Secular people, and another thing of Monks. 
The laws of the Gospel speak equally to al.  For there is almost no other difference betwixt these two lives, but that they are entangled in the bonds of wedlock, and these are free from it; for the rest, one rule of life is required of them both, one and the self same punishment due to both their faults. For he that is angry with his brother without cause, offendeth God alike, whether he be Secular or a Monk; and he that beholdeth a woman with lustful desire, of which soever state he be, shall be punished with like punishment of adultery; again he that sweareth, whether he be this, or that, is pliable to the same sentence. For Christ, when he gave instructions in these things, & made these laws▪ did not make such distinction, as to say: if he that sweareth be a Monk, the oath is naught, if he be not a Monk, it is not naught; but he said absolutely: I say unto you that you swear not at al. And again when he said: Woe be to those that laugh: 
Matth. 5.34.  he did not add Monks, but he passed this definitive sentence upon all; 
Luc. 6.25.  and the same he doth in his greatest commandments, and those at which men do most wonder. For when he saith: Blessed are the poor in spirit; Blessed are they that mourn; 
Matth. 5.  Blessed are the meek, and so forth; he puts not the name of a Monk to them, or of a Secular; but this distinction is brought-in by men's mistaking For the holy Scriptures acknowledge no such thing, but rather command every body to lead a life like Monks, though they be married. Finally hearken what S. Paul saith, whom when I name, I name Christ. He therefore writing to men that were married, & had children, requires as much care of them, as is in a Monastical life; for barring altogether all delicacy of apparel or diet, 
1 Tim. 5.6.  he useth this speech: She that is in delights, living is dead; and again: 
1 Tim. 6.8  Having meat, and apparel, let us content ourselves therewith. What could he require more of Monks? In another place giving directions, how we should refrain our tongue, he setteth down most holy rules, and such rules as Monks themselves have much ado to keep them. For he doth not only condemn filthiness and foolish talk, but he reprehendeth severely all scurrility or immoderate jesting; 
Eph. 5.4.  & doth bamnish it utterly from a Christian life. Sometimes also he exhorteth us vehemently, to the imitation of Christ himself. For when he admonisheth us to love our Neighbour, he chiefly setteth before our eyes the example of Christ; and in like manner, when he exhorteth to patience, or humility. Seeing therefore he doth not only bid us imitate Monks or the Apostles, but Christ; and threateneth them with most grievous punishments that do not imitate him; how canst thou say, that more perfection is required of Monks, seeing the like perfection proposed to every body, and exacted of every one? But this it is most certainly, that turns the world upside down, that we persuade ourselves that Monks must be exceeding careful to live well, but others may live carelessly: But it is not so, in very deed it is not so; for the same Philosophical manner of living, is required of every one. And this I say without all question; yea it is not I, that say it, but it is Christ, who is judge of us al. 
Mat. 11.28.  For where he saith: Come to me all; Take my yoke upon you, and learn of me, because I am meek and humble of hart, he speaketh not only to Monks, but to all mankind. 
Matth. 7.13  Again where he commandeth us to walk the narrow way, he conventeth not Monks alone, but all men; and when he bids us hate our own life in this world, and the like, he excepteth no sort of men. And when he delivered any decree which was not to comprehend all, he declared himself accordingly; as where he spoke of Virgins, he added: He that can take, let him take. 
Matth. 19  Wherefore that a Secular man, and a Monk, are by the laws of God equally bound to have care of their wel-living, and to the same height of Perfection, and that both of them, if they fall, shall receive wounds alike, I think no body will deny, howsoever he may otherwise be of a wrangling, and impudent disposition. All this and much more doth S. john Chrysostom say. And could any thing be expressed more plainly, or more significantly, and in more weighty terms? Though what need we stand upon the testimonies of men, seeing we have our saviour's own verdict for it, 
Mat 5.48  Be ye perfect? and because we should not be ignorant what measure of Perfection he requireth, and of whom, he saith further: As your heavenly father is perfect. So that the top of all sanctity is to be imitated, 
If we will be true sons of God our Father, we must seek to be perfect.  and imitated by all them that glory in that they have God their Father, which certainly is the chiefest glory of all such as bear the name of Christians, to whom (as S. john speaketh) God hath given such charity, that they be named the sons of God, and be so; and who (as S. Paul saith) in right of sons, shall be the heirs of God, and coheirs of Christ. Wherefore either we must yeeld-up the hope of ever enjoying that inheritance, or if we will maintain the Adoption of Sons, we must maintain it by imitation of our heavenly Father; 
1. Io. 3.1.  because (as S. Cyprian saith) it is unseemly that children should degenerate from their parents, 
Rom. 8.17.  and specially from such a parent and so worthy a Father.  
4. And for the same reason S. james the Apostle, writing to the vulgar sort, and not to some great Il larions or Macaries of the desert, 
S Cypr. ser. de Con pat.  exhorteth, that we be perfect and entire, failing in nothing; and S. Peter: That ye be holy in all your Conversation; because it is written: You shall be holy, for that I am holy. And God himself speaking to Abraham amidst all that wealth, and the government of so great à family and stock, 
jacob. 1.4. 1. Pet. 1.16.  saith: Walk before me, and be perfect; Which seeing it was spoken, when the law of Nature only was in force, no man can make any doubt but that now it doth much more oblige, since the Word of God coming down from heaven, 
Gen. 17 1.  hath to this end visited, and made redemption of his people (a● Zacharie full of the holy-ghost did feel within himself) that we may serve him in sancti●●e and justice. And the law itself (which that Eternal Word opening his mouth diwlged to the whole world) doth give us to understand as much; 
Luc. 1.  for it being so divided, that some things are to be observed towards God, some things towards our Neighbour, and others towards ourselves, in all these things it requireth great perfection of us. 
The law requires sanctity.  For we see what fear, what confidence, what faith, what love it prescribeth towards God, from all our hart, all our soul, all our strength and force. And directing us in the love of our Neighbour, it commandeth us to love him as ourselves, it requireth great compassion of his miseries, and so great patience if an injury be offered, that if he take our cloak from us, we must let him have our coat also; and if he strike us on the one cheek, we must turn the other. And as concerning ourselves, what heavier or more perfect commandment could be laid upon us, than always to watch, to hat● our own life, to take up our Cross, to deny ourselves, to l●ese our life, to renounce all things, to sell that which we have, and give it to the poor, to enter at the narrow gate, and in a word to offer violence to the kingdom of heaven? All which and many more things being promulgated by God himself without exception, distinction, 
Secular people live as if our Saviour had made 〈…〉 contrary to th●se which he made.  or difference of men or callings, and commanded cuery body indifferently and in general, what blindness is it of Secular people to exempt themselves of their own head, and persuade themselves, that these things belong only to Monks and Religious men? And by their manner of life they show indeed that they are of this opinion; for they are so far from practising the abnegation, or renunciation, or taking-up of their Cross, which our Saviour commandeth, that they abhor it, and shun nothing more; and chose they follow liberty, and pleasures, and licentiousness so wholly, as if our Saviour had made quite contrary laws, and said: Blessed are the rich; Blessed are those that live in pleasure; Blessed are they that are in greatest honour and reputation with the world. Wherefore let us conclude, and stick to this Tenet, which is so clear in the light of the Gospel, that absolutely all that have believed the Gospel, and subjected themselves to the laws thereof, whether they be Religious or Secular, are bound to frame their life & actions, according to that high rule of Perfection, 
Two Conclusions out of the premises.  which is generally proposed to all, in the life, & wholesome doctrine of Christ our Saviour. Whereof two things must necessarily follow: First, that Religious people take not any new obligation or burden upon them, or at least that the obligation which is added, is but small; but on the other side, the helps, which they receive, are very great, and ease them very much in the carriage of that burden, which is imposed upon all; and make them bear it far more cheerfully Secondly, that the condition of them that live in the world, is far worse than it seems to be; in regard they are in a manner as fully obliged to the selfsame things, and yet have so few and so small helps thereunto, and so many important hindrances. Wherefore the case of them both in truth is, as if two were to travel a long and hard journey, 
The point of difference betwixt the Religious and the Secular.  the one on foot, slowly, and with much pain & labour▪ the other, in a good and easy coach, with this obligation, that he must not leave his coach, nor go on foot. For as much as concerneth the perfection of the Euangelical Law, both are equally obliged to observe it of necessity. The obligation which lieth particularly upon Religious people more than others, is in the manner, and means of attaining to this Perfection, which is a great commodity unto them: for if it be profitable to use a certain kind of instrument for such a work, it must needs be much more profitable, that it be not in my power, not to use it; all which will be far more evident, when we shall have declared in particular all the special benefits of a Religious life.   

The first fruit of a Religious life, to wit, perfect Remission of all sins committed. CHAP. XIII.  

〈◊〉 7 8.  THe Wise man said: I will ascend into the Palmtree, & gather the fruits thereof. Being to treat more fully of the particular commodities of a Religious life, this saying of the Wiseman in the Canticles cometh fit to my purpose; 
S Greg. 19 mor c. 16.  for the figure of the Palmtree doth sort with a Religious state in many things. S. Gregory compares the life of spiritual men to this tree. For as the Palmtree (saith he) is rugged below, and hidden under a course bark, & above is beautiful to the eye, embellished with delicate fruits; below is penned with the foldings of the rind, above spread-out in breadth with fair green boughs; so the life of the servants of God, in the exterior doth seem despicable and poor, but on-high in soul, which is the chiefest part in man, it is dilated in hope of large recompense. Which is most of all verified in Religion; in which that which is first in sight, is the difficulties, and rigour of Poverty, and an outward aspect, contemptible, knotty, & rough, full of labour and toil; but when we cast our eye upon the inward riches, there is not upon earth a sweeter life, nor fuller of a spiritual commodities, Wherefore let us ascend into this Palmtree, or if by the mercy of God we be already mounted-up into it, let us gather the fruits thereof, & enjoy them, not only in daily use and practise, but by ruminating & recording them.  
2. The first fruit is a full and perfect Remission and pardon of all manner of sins committed in a secular life. But no man can value the greatness of this benefit, unless he conceive & reflect upon the greatness of the punishment, which is due after this life, even for those sins, which have been forgiven us, and blotted-out by virtue of the Sacraments. 
The punishments of the other life exceeding sharp for 3. reasons.  The unsufferablenes of which punishment ariseth of three things: First, by the torment of fire, which is so bitter, & so piercing, & burning our very soul, that S. Augustin affirmeth it is a sharper punishment than whatsoever torment any man ever saw, or felt, or can imagine in this world; Secondly it is infinitely augmented, by the excessive desire which a soul, that is free from the body, hath of seeing that Infinite Good, for which we were all created; 
S. Aug ser. 41. de SS.  this desire being in a manner infinite; And thirdly, the very sight of the spots & ugly scars which are left by sin, 
S. Aug. 〈◊〉. ser. 41.  before they be purged away by fire, doth greatly increase the grief; and withal the multitude of them in regard, that not only enormous sins, but the very lest that can be thought of, are there punished; 
Sin's punishable after this life in Purgatory.  of which it is infinite to recount the number, whereunto we are daily subject. S. Augustin reckoneth-up many of them, as, to eat or drink more than needs; to speak or to hold one's peace more than is fitting; to neglect a poor body that presseth upon us; to rise late; to be slow in visiting prisons, or the sick; to compliment with our neighbour, or speak harshly to him; to flatter those that are in authority; rashly to suspect; to be too sparing in giving alms; finally idle speeches; all which sins, he saith, if hee● they be not redeemed, 
And forgiven by profession of a Religious life.  must be purged in that fire. Whereby we may see, what a heap of punishments is layd-up for so great a heap of sins, & such sins as a Secular life is full of. B it as the instant that we profess a Religious life, we are in one moment delivered of all the pains & torments so perfectly, that if our soul should then depart this life, it would go directly to heaven. Which certainly is a very great benefit, & greatly to be esteemed; for if we were to redeem but one sin by our own labour and endeavour, how many tears, how many fastings, how many disciplines, what penance would it cost us? What then will be necessary for such a mass of imperfections, as an idle & careless life is wont to gather?  
3. It is very true, that there be diverse other means, to get remission of punishment due to sin, and chiefly by Indulgences granted by His Holiness, to whom God hath▪ given power to that effect, 
The difference betwixt gaining remission of our sins by Indulgences and by entrance into Religion.  but there is a great deal of difference betwixt these two ways. For though the power, which the Pope hath in this kind, be great, yet it is limited; For first there must be some just cause to ●●ant an Indulgence, and a cause which may carry some proportion to the Indulgence which is granted; Secondly there must be some work performed, whereby to satisfy for our sins, in some measure also proportionable to the sins which are remitted. If either of these be wanting, the Indulgence is not avaulable, or at leastwise it reacheth no further, than the weight of the cause, or of the work will carry it; and the valuation of these things depending of the judgement of men, and the matter being obscure and hard to judge of, the Indulgence may quickly come to little or nothing, specially seeing many faults may be also committed in performing negligently the works which are enjoined. It is not so in the pardon which a Religious life doth bring us; for it doth not depend of any grant of man, but proceedeth from the nature of the fact itself, so that there can be no doubt, but that it is always available to all▪ after one and the selfsame manner; and that God, as the Prophet Micheas speaketh, 
M●●h●. 7.19  hath mercy upon us, and putteth away all our iniquities, and casteth all our sins into the depth of the sea. Wherefore all Divines (who are wont to examine these things very narrowly) with common consent do number this among the greatest privileges of Religion. 
An●o p. 3. 〈…〉 Pa●. 4. d. 28 q ●. 5 ill. 2. Relic. ●. d 23 A●g. n. 47.  And among them S. Antonine (a man renowned for learning and sanctity) proveth it very solidly, and bringeth also Paludanus for his opinion. And many others have delivered the same, and chiefly S. Thomas giving this reason: For if Almes-giving do redeem sins, as we find delivered by the Prophet Daniel, 
S. Th. 2 2. 〈…〉 3 and 3.  how much more shall the Entrance into Religion work the same effect? which kind of voluntary penance, is not only of equal force with almes-giving, but doth sa●e excel it, And there is good reason to think so, because he that gives an alme● to a poor body gives his external substance, and part only of that whereof he hath plenty; but a Religious man giveth all, and himself withal; so that no alms or guilt can be equal with it. Of w●ich also S. Thomas in an other place giveth this reason: Because when we en●er into Religion our sins are forgiven us, 
S. Th' 4. d 4. 〈…〉. 3. ad 3.  but yet so as we on our part lay down a real and very great satisfaction for them. For when we deliver-up our will wh●ly to God, & bequeath ourselves to his service, we give him that which is more dear unto 〈…〉 all things else in the world, and consequently do fully satisfy for all our sins past, 
 because we give him the greatest gift that man can ●iue. Thus saith S. T●●mas. Wald●●●●, a learned Author, is of the same opinion, and confirmeth i● by the testimony of a holy man, who in a Vision saw the like Grace descend upon a Monk, when he took the habit of Religion, which he had seen ●iuen in Baptism. And S. Anselm in the latter end of his Book of Similitudes showeth it by example of one O●bor●● a Monk, who not lon● after he was deceased, 
S. Anselm  appeared in the night to S. Anselm himself, & told him, that he ha● be●n ●hree times most cruelly assaulted by the Devil in his last agony, & defended by one that stood by him, 
R●●●rtur etiam ab An● p 〈…〉  and pleaded hard for him. For first, the Devil, 〈…〉 unto him the sins which he had committed before Baptism (for he was baptised when he was in years) but when it was answered, that all those sins had been washed away by Baptism, the Devil was mute. A none 〈…〉 the sins which the man had committed in the world before he entered into Religion▪ to which answer was made, that these also were forgiven by the profession of a Religious life; Finally he laid against him all his faults and negligences committed du●ing the time he lived in Religion; but when it was replied that he had satisfied for them by often Confession, and other virtuous exercises, the Devil having no more to say, went away vanquished and confounded.  

S. Athanas of S Antoni● the 〈◊〉.  4. S. Athanasias recounteth the like example of S. Antony the Great, tha● 〈…〉 Ninth Hour he was once in spirit carried up towards heaven 〈…〉 and when the Devils flocking about him laboured with all might to hinder him, the Angels asked them what interest they had in him? and they began to rip up the sins of his youth; but the blessed Angels presently stopped their mouths, and told them, that they were not to look back upon those things which he had committed in the world before he was a Monk; but if from that time forward they had any thing, they should lay it open; but finding nothing to say, they were fain to yield against their wills, and leave him free passage to Heaven.  
5. In the chronicle of S. Francis his Order we read also, 
Chronicle of S. Francis.  that a certain Religious Priest of that Order, Christopher by name, was wonderfully troubled in mind about the sins which he had committed in the world; and desired one of his Brethren, that did often see and speak with his Good Angel, that he would ask him concerning it. The Good Angel made answer, that forasmuch as concerned those sins, he should not be dismayed, nor take any thought, but from thence forward labour diligently to persever to the end, that he might be saved  
6. And that which Leontius Bishop of Cyprus, 
Leontius.  an ancient Author, doth relate in the Life of Simeon the Abbot, is a pleasant narration, and worthy to be recorded, as suiting to our present purpose. This Simeon then a young man, and of noble extraction, to either with one john, of equal nobility, and in the flower also of his youth, coming to a Monastery, and being both of them to be clothed the next day in their Monastical weed, some of the Brethren of the house began to speak thus vnt● them (for I will put down the author's own words, because they are plain, and full of ancient simplicity) You are happy, because to morrow you shall be regenerate, and cleansed from all sin, as when you were first borne, no otherwise then as if you were Baptised the same day. Which when they heard, they were both of them astonished, & ran to the godly Abbot of the Monastery, called Nico, & casting themselves at his feet said: We beseech thee, Father, that thou wilt not baptise us; for we are Christians, and borne of Christian parents. The Abbot not knowing what had been spoken by the Fathers of the Monastery, said unto them: Why, Children, who goes about to baptise you? And they answered: our Masters, the Fathers of the Monastery, tell us that to morrow we shall be Baptised again. Then the Abbot understood how they had spoken of the holy Habit, and said: They said well, my Children; for, if it please God, to morrow we will clothe you with the holy and Angelical habit.  
7. We have S. Hierom's opinion also in this behalf (which is of no small weight) who for this only reason dareth almost compare a Religious state with Baptism. 
S. Hierome ep. 25.  For writing to Paula, he comforteth her upon the death of Blesilla her daughter in this manner: It is very true that if untimely death had feazed her (which God forbid should happen to those that are his) in the heat of worldly desires, and in thoughts of the pleasures of this life, she were to be lamented: But now that by the mercy of Christ, some four months since, she had as it were washed herself with the second Baptism of her holy purpose, and lived afterward so, as treading the world under her feet, she was resolved to abide in the Monastery; are you not afraid lest our Saviour say unto you: O Paula, art●h ●angrie that thy daughter ● become my 〈◊〉? And to the same purpose he exhorteth Demetrius, 
Idem ●p. 8.  saying: Now that thou hast forsaken the world, and in the Second Step after Baptism conditioned with thy Adversary saying unto him: Thou Devil, I renounce thee, and the World, and thy pomp, and thy works; 
S. Bernard de Pr●●p and disp.  keep the conditions, which thou hast made. But S. Bernard teacheth the same thing more plainly than any of the rest; and having been asked the question by some, giveth two reasons for it, in these words: You desire to know of me, how it comes to pass, that among all the courses of penance, a Monastical life hath deserved the prerogative to be styled a Second Baptism; I think the reason is in regard of the perfect renouncing of the world, and the singular pre-eminence of a spiritual life; the conversation thereof excelling all the courses which man is wont to take, and making the lovers thereof like the Angels of heaven, and far unlike to earthly men; it reformeth the Image of God in man, configuring us to Christ, as Baptism doth; finally we are in a manner Baptised the second time, in regard that mortifying our members which are upon earth, we put on Christ again, once more engrafted to the similitude of his death. And moreover as in Baptism we are delivered from the power of darkness, and translated into the kingdom of eternal glory▪ so in the second kind of regeneration of this holy purpose, in like manner from the darkness, not only of one Original sin but of many Actual sins, we pass to the light of virtue; accommodating that saying of the Apostle to ourselves; The night is passed, and the day is at hand. Thus fa●re S. Bernard. 
Rom. 13.12.   

In Religion we die to the world, as in Baptism we die to sin. Rome 6. Eph ●. Coloss. 3.  8. All which may be confirmed with this one argument, wherewith I will conclude this Chapter, as containing the substance of what hath been hitherto said. For the reason why Baptism blotteth-out all former offences, is because in it we die to our old life, and are borne again into a new life; which is that which S. Paul doth every where teach, when sometimes he saith we are dead, sometimes buried with Christ, and revived again with him, and that our life is hidden in him; so that, to speak properly, in the Laver of Baptism the same man that entered, doth not come forth, but quite an other man; for he that entered, is dead, and another risen in his place; so that the sins of that man that is dead, cannot be laid to the charge of the man that is newborn; no more than my sins can be laid to another man, or another man's to me; & the selfsame happeneth in Religion. For we dye to the world & to the works thereof, & moreover to ourselves, and our own will; in somuch that we cannot enjoy the world, nor make use of the offers thereof, nor of our own will, no more than if we were indeed buried. Wherefore seeing Religious people, as in Baptism, leave to be what they were before, and begin to be new men in a new life, and quite other thoughts and endeavours, placing their contentment in other manner of pleasures, and ends, and intentions; it is no wonder that the punishment of the offences, to which the old man was liable, be blotted out, and lie dead; and that this other man cannot be charged with them.  

The contentment which the privilege of this re●ssion bringeth.  9 Which benefit, if it be duly weighed, breedeth inestimable contentment and ease of mind, burying those scruples and vexations, which the remembrance and remorse of our former offences is wont to bring. Many travail into far countries, and ●ow long pilgrimages to jerusalem, Rome, and Comp●●●●●a, and put their lives in many hazards by sea and land, to gain Pardon and remission of their sins, of which I spoke before; and they do well and devoutly: But yet their devotion is mingled with many inconveniences; among which it is none of the least, that generally they do not increase their fervour and devotion, but rather lose it, through the toil and trouble of journeying; and oftimes fall upon occasions of offending God more. But this Indulgence giveth great increase of sanctity, and moreover (as I said before) doth not proceed from the power and authority of man, which is limited and confined, but from the mere will and bounty of God, and the excellency of the work itself. So that every Religious man may with great reason make account, that our Saviour speaketh those comfortable words unto him, which are in the Gospel: Thy sins are forgiven thee; go in peace.   

The second fruit of Religion, that it is a state of Penance. CHAP. XIV.  
AS Religion at the first entrance presenteth every one of us with the bountiful & welcome gift of Remission of all our sins and debts, as our Saviour calls them: so it yealds many sovereign remedies to purge our souls, and blot out the same offences; and all the exercises thereof are in a manner directed to no other end. For it is a State of Penance, and so commonly called; in regard the greatest part thereof is spent in bewailing the sins of our life past, 
S. Tho. con. Impug. Rel. c. 1.  and repairing the faults and negligences of former years, as S. Thomas proveth at large in the Book he writ against the Opposers of Religion. Which though some may think a needle's labour, and time idly spent, specially after that full and perfect Remission, of which even now I spoke; yet it is not so, but a very great and special benefit, which we shall easily understand, if we give care to that saying of the holy-ghost in Scripture: 
Eccl. 5.5.  Of the sin which is forgiven, be not without fear. For a man might say: If it be truly forgiven, what need I fear? or if I have cause still to fear, certainly it is not perfectly forgiven me. 
Our eternal ●eale never safe enough  But doubtless both our eternal weal is a business of so great weight and moment, that men have great reason never to think themselves safe enough; and sin itself is so fow●e a thing, that we cannot sufficiently express our hatred against it, unless we voluntarily revenge ourselves upon it, and punish those enemies of our own accord, which have wrought us so much mischief. For that is very true and well to be considered, 
S. Greg 4. mor. c. 17.  which S. Gregory saith, that our Lord doth remit no sin without some punishment or other; for either we must pursue it with tears, or he will reserve it to his judgement. And the same he proveth in an other place, 
Idem 9 in c. 17.  by that which job saith to God: Knowing that thou sparest not him that offendeth; God spareth not the offender, because he letteth not the sin pass without punishment. For either man himself doth punish it in himself by penance, or God doth punish it, taking revenge upon man. Therefore he spareth not the offence, 
Sine never too much hated and punished. S. August.  because it is never remitted without revenge. To which purpose S. Augustin was wont to say (as Possidon●us writeth of him with a great deal of praise) that no Priest, live he never so worthily, should ever think of departing this life without just & convenient penance. And seeing it must be done, where can it be better and more fully done then in Religion, which is a course in great part erected for no other end, but to satisfy for the offences of our life past? And if we will know what means Religion hath to this effect, we shall find that it is very powerful in this, as in all other things, 
Many ways of doing penance ●n Religion  and hath many ways to bring it to pass; which may be reduced to some that concern the body, and some that concern the mind. The body giveth continual matter of suffering, and enduring very much; and the very renouncing of the pleasures of this world, is penance enough of itself; for it cannot choose but be hard to flesh and blood, to be debarred from the use of things which are delightful, and to which it is naturally inclined, as from marriage and dainty fare, from companie-keeping, hunting and hawking, gaming, meeting at plays, and such other sports and pastimes, wherewith men are so much carried away. So that if there were nothing else, Religious people might with good reason be said to live in continual penance, because to be deprived of that, which naturally doth content us, is very bitter.  

Religious people are men crucified. S. Io. Chrysost Hom. 5.6. ad pop..  2 But there be many other things in a Religious life which are so harsh & distasteful to flesh and blood, and so ordinary withal among Religious people, that S. john Chrysostome knew not how to express their manner of painful living, better, then by calling than crucified men; signifying that they live perpetually as if they were nailed upon a Crosse. For first their Poverty bringeth many daily troubles and inconveniences with it, in their diet, and clothing, and habitation, and furniture, and in all things else, which greatly helpeth towards the satisfaction of which I speak; because they willingly endure it for the love of God, besides other exercises more heavy and irksome, which Religious discipline doth require, as fasting, and watching, and other austerities of the body, which the fervour and devotion of every one doth invent, or every one's particular Institute doth put upon them. To which we may add the labour and toil which oftimes they undergo for God, and the good of their Neighbour, day and night; refusing no place, nor time, nor season to do them good. And these things belong unto the body.  

The mortifications of the mind  3. The functions of the mind are more noble, and more apt for satisfaction; specially the continual exercise of all kind of Virtue, as Humility, Obedience, Charity towards God, and men of all conditions; of which virtues Religion is full, not only increasing our reward by the practice of them, but greatly helping to the perfect blotting-out of all sins, and chiefly by the denial of our own will; which every one doth partly practise within himself, breaking and cu●bing the violent motions of Sensuality, mortifying his eyes, and taste, and other senses, and inclinations, and is partly laid upon him by his Superiors and governors. 
Obedience the ●a●dest and most profitable act of Penance.  For by depending wholly upon their will, he cannot choose but live in continual restraint of his own will, which is the hardest & the most profitable act of penance that can be; because in every act of sin, the will of man rejects and contemns the will of God, and wilfully follows his own courses, and consequently we cannot make God better nor more full satisfaction, then by delivering the same will of ours, as the party that is guilty, to God, whom it hath offended, bound as it were hand and foot in the chains of our Vows, specially of Obedience; that as it hath overlashed by taking overmuch delight in pleasures and pastimes, it may make recompense again, by performing and enduring those things which are unpleasant and distasteful.  
4. And certainly, 
Penance rather to be done upon the mind then upon the body.  if we consider the nature and intention of penance, it is rather to be exercised in the mind, then upon the body; for it is the mind that sinneth. The mind commandeth the body and every part thereof, and studieth the several ways of working mischief, and consequently it deserveth all the punishment, specially seeing most sins are committed only in mind, without any act at all of the body; as the sins of Pride, which are many, and of Envy, and the like, and all those which pass only in thought, & inward consent to evil; whereby we may see that penance doth chiefly consist in punishing the mind and will; and that Religion is the fittest, if not the only fit place for it. 
S. Th. c. 10 & quoth▪ 3. ar. 13 & ●. 2. q. 189. a. 3 ad 3.  Wherefore S. Thomas in the Treatise, which he wrote of Spiritual Perfection, saith well, that in Religion there is not only perfect Charity, but perfect Penance, and that no Satisfaction can be compared to the penance of Religious people that consecreate themselves to God; and giveth a good reason, 
No man can be compelled to take upon him a Religious course.  because no man can be compelled to take upon him a Religious course, though he have committed never so many enormous offences; in regard that the works of Religion exceed whatsoever private or public satisfaction and punishment which may be due, or ever was at any time, or can be enjoined for any offence.  
5. And moreover, two things concur in this kind of Penance, which are not in any other; and it is a thing worthy to be considered. For other works of penance, 
Two things in the penance of Religion, which are not elsewhere.  the sharper they are, are also the more effectual and fit to purge our souls; and if they be mild and easy, they are the less available; But Religious discipline (which, if we believe S. Thomas, is the greatest kind of penance that can be) is not sharp and terrible, but easy and pleasant; for it doth not require that we should punish ourselves with much fasting, long disciplining, watching whole nights together, and such like austerities, which every man's body or years is not able to bear, but rather it consisteth in a firm resolution of the mind, despising all things of this world, denying our own will, and in Obedience; of the easiness and pleasantness whereof we shall hereafter speak at large.  
6 And the holy Canons give us to understand as much: For whereas one Astulphus had murdered his wife, 
33. q 2. c. Adm.  Pope Pius exhorted him first to betake himself to a Religious course; that being (as he speaketh) humbled under the command of his Prelate, and holpen by the prayers of many Brethren, he might obtain mercy of God; but if he refused to take that course, he enjoined him diverse grievous pennances which he was to do continually; as, to drink no wine, to eat no flesh, not to marry, nor use the bath, and many other things, which would affright a man to hear them; whereby we may guess how much easier it is to satisfy God in Religion then in the world; and that it is done more fully, in regard of the obedience and humility which we profess under our Superiors, and the help which we have by the prayers of our spiritual Brethren; which be the two causes which the Pope doth touch upon.  
7. Finally, that which S. Gregory the Great (being so famous a Doctor of the Church) doth teach, is much to be noted, as proving evidently, that the abandoning of the world, is not only the best and most wholesome kind of satisfaction, but in a manner necessary sometimes; specially if we be desirous to offer a perfect and entire satisfaction for our sins. For in a certain Homily discoursing upon the words of S. john Baptist, 
S. Greg. Hom. 20. in Luang.  that it is not sufficient to do works of penance, but worthy wo●ks of penance, he declares himself in this manner: If we will speak of worthy works of penance, we must understand, that if there be any body that hath not done any thing that is unlawful, he deserves to use lawful things, and follow works of virtue, so that, if he will, he need not leave the world. But if one have fallen into fornication, or adultery, which is worse, he must debar himself the more from things which are otherwise lawful; in regard he cannot but remember he hath done that which is unlawful.  

S Bernard. s. de q●adr. deb.  8. S. Bernard is of the same opinion; for among other reasons which he gives, why a Religious man must make account, that he owes himself and his life wholly to God, he reckoneth this as one of the chiefest: My sins past (saith he) do require of me my life to come, that I do worthy works of penance, and bethink myself of all the days of my life in the bitterness of my soul. I have sinned above the number of the sands of the sea, and my sins are multiplied; and am not worthy to behold the heaven on high. How therefore shall I number that which is without number? how shall I satisfy, where I shall be constrained to make satisfaction to the last f●●thing? and who understands his sins? That heavenly Flute S. Ambrose saith: I have found it easier to meet with those that have preserved themselves innocent, then that have done worthy penance. When therefore thou shalt have consecrated all thy life, all thy thoughts, whatsoever thou hast, or canst do, to this one thing, can it be any thing? or reputed any thing worth? A little before thou hadst given thy life, for the life which Christ ●aue f●r thee; and now the memory of thy former offences demands it all again.  

〈◊〉 ser de dup Leapt.  9 He confi●meth the same thing an other way else where, saying, that when a man ha●h once cleft to the world by sin, he must quite forsake his own will wherewith he sinned, and the world for whose sake he sinned, if he will perfectly satisfy for his sin; and that this is a second Baptism. His words are these: We have made our first covenant void; we have sinned against thee, ò Lord, obliging ourselves again to Satan & his works, putting our necks willingly under the yoke of iniquity; and subiecting ourselves to a most miserable slavery. And therefore, my Brethren, it is fitting we should be baptised again, we must necessarily make a second covenant, a second profession; and it is not enough for us to renounce the Devil and his works, we must also renounce the world and our own wil The world beguiled us, our will betrayed us. In our first Baptism, when our own will had done us no harm, it was enough to renounce the Devil: but now that we have apparently smarted for the allurements of the deceitful world, and the unfaithfulness of our own will, in this second Baptism of our conversion (as I may call it) we shall do worthily, and not unwisely, if we be careful, not only to renew the former covenant, but to strengthen it, renouncing also and denying our affections. Thus far S. Bernard; and I find that other holy men have been all of the same mind; inviting men to a Religious life, to the end they may case themselves of the heavy weight of their sins; as S. Romualdus, 
S. Romualdu● persuaded diverse great men and great sinners to enter into Religion.  who persuaded Peter V●seolus, King of Dalmatia, to leave his kingdom, and forsake the world, to the astonishment of all men, for a murder which he had committed. He persuaded also Thamnus to do the like, who was so great a favourite of Otho the Emperor, that they sat at one table, and wore one an other's garments; but Thamnus had put Crescentius a Senator to death, against his faith and promise given him; which was the cause he forsook the world. The same he persuaded with Count Olibanus a great man in France; who after many heinous offences committed, being touched with remorse, came to S. Romualdus his Celle with a great train, and laid open his whole life unto him. When the Saint had heard him, he told him there was no way for him to be saved, but by forsaking the world, and entering into Religion. The Count having quite other thoughts in his head, was much troubled; and calling to him the Bishops & Abbots, which were in his company, he advised with them, whether it were so indeed; and they answered with one voice, that S. Romualdus had told him the very truth, and that fear only had hindered them from telling him the same thing before. Then Olibanus in private conference agreed with the holy man, to forsake the world, and in effect did it not long after, to the great admiration of all that knew him. Whereupon we may conclude, that if any body find himself loaden with sins, and desire to be cleared of them, as every one ought to desire, and labour for it, no way can be compared to a Religious course, either in regard of the certainty, or of the sweetness of the means of obtaining pardon, and of many other pr●●●●atiues, in which it doth excel.   

The third fruit of Religion: Austerity of life. CHAP. XV.  
REligion hath a third commodity, for which though must men shun it, yet it contains many great commodities in it, to wit, that Religious people have so much occasion, and some kind of necessity, of dealing harshly with themselves, and afflicting their bodies: partly because the poverty which they profess, do●h in a manner enforce it upon them, and partly because all functions of Religion are somewhat harsh, and distasteful to Sense. For that which Ecc●●siastes saith (Frequent meditation, 
Eccl. 11.12. The commodities of Austerity of life.  is an affliction of the sl●●) hath à further meaning, then of the Contemplation of heavenly ●hin●s, which we commonly call Meditation For whatsoever the mind is busied in, if it be a restraint to Sense, and to the natural inclination which we find in ourselves continually craving, is an affliction to the flesh, and doth much quail and abate the lively vigour of the body. And yet this severity brings much profit with it; and first, by use of hard and painful things, 
Deut. ●2. 25.  our nature is mortified and kept from flying out; if we pamper and deal gently with it, the crookedness and corruption thereof is so great, that, as Moses speaketh in his Canticle, it kicketh and spurneth, when it is sarted us, and utterly refuseth the obedience which it owes to reason & the law of God. We may see it more plainly in beasts, because the force of nature doth more lively show itself in them, in regard they are led in all things merely by natural inclinations; let us therefore consider what happeneth in in them, and take example by it. If we keep a horse in stable, and give him his fill of oats, and rest; and keep an other at day-labour, with allowance little enough to live and be able to do the work we shall quickly find the difference; For a horse that is well kept and high fed, will be always playing and curuetting, and a man shall have much ado to hold him in with a double bit; he will be running away when the rider would have him stand, and stop and give-back when he should go on, and cannot be for much use, without a great deal of pains and danger to the rider: But the horse that is kept at rack and manger is gentle enough, and will not greatly stir: he will sooner sink, then offer to resist, whatsoever load you put upon him; you shall not need to tie him to make him stand, and be quiet; but you may lay the reynes on his neck, and stay him, or put him on, or turn him with a word. Now certainly this inferior nature of ours, which consists of flesh and blood, and of that which we call Life, and Sense, and Appetite, is the same with beasts; and so much the more heady in us, than it is in them, in regard it is infected and corrupt by sin, from which beasts are free; so that if we pamper it, and give ourselves to ease, and a full diet, and feed it with dainties, and all manner of pleasure, 
S. Bernard. Ep. 152.  it must needs grow stubborn and unruly in us, as it doth in beasts, and somewhat more, in regard of our corruption; but if we feed sparingly, and live sober and continent, it will be always gentle and at command. Whereupon S. Bernard saith, that the mind that is accustomed to dainties, and not broken with the mat●ock of discipline, gathereth much filth; where he daintily compareth the Soul to a plot of ground, Austerity to a spade or mattock; for the ground cannot bear fruit, not only if we do not sow it, but though it be fruitful of itself, 
S. Leo s●r 4. de 〈◊〉.  and be sowed, yet it must be sometimes digged and cast up, or else it will grow full of weeds and brambles; so our flesh (saith S. Leo) unless it be broken with continual labour, will quickly with ●ase and sloth bring-forth thorns and brambles, and yield fruit for the fire, and not for the barn And, to go no farther, as the ground, if it had sense of feeling, would suffer in the breaking up, and yet must bear it, for the good of itself, 
job. 6.11.  as well as of the husbandman; for the cultivating of it, is better for the ground itself; so though we feel pain and difficulty (for our flesh is not of brass, as we read in job) yet we must not leave-of for that, but think that we shall have an eternal and unspeakable reward for the final labour and pain we here endure.  
2. To be short, we must bear in mind, that we are composed of two several substances very different & contrary one to the other; the one is of earth, and consequently bears continually downwards, towards the earth, dreaming of nothing but earthly things: the other, as it begun in us by the breathing of God into our face, so it is in substance light and active, resembling God, and in nature spiritual, 
Gen. 1.  as he is; so that, as in a balance when one scale weigheth down, the other riseth, of these two parts as one thriveth, the other pareth and falleth away; which holy Scripture doth teach us saying: The body which is corrupt, 
Sap. 9 15.  doth aggravate and weigh down the soul; and certainly it must needs sink the more, the more weight we give it. Wherefore that which S. Gregory saith is much to be noted, 
S. Gregory 2.3. p●ni●.  that the joy of the eternal reward is not reaped in heaven, unless first in earth we sow in bitter tears and sighs, according as it is written: Going, they went and wept, casting their seed; but coming, they shall come with joy, bearing their bundles. For as when the flesh rests, the spirit faints; so when the flesh taketh pains, the spirit groweth strong and able. And as the flesh burnisheth with things that are dainty, so the soul is raised with that which is hard and rude. The flesh is bred-up with delight; the soul groweth with that which is distasteful. Easy things refresh the flesh; harsh things exercise the soul. And again, as hard things wound the flesh, so soft things kill the soul; & as painful things consume the flesh, so things delightful pinch the soul. Neither shall I need to say any more to this purpose; because no man's authority is greater than S. gregory's; nor could S. Gregory speak more plainly or more effectually in any thing, than he hath done in this.  
3. But by this, which hath been said, it is evident, how happy a thing it is to be in Religion; 
1. Cor. 9.27.  where we may perform that which S. Paul said of himself: I chastise my body, and bring it into subjection; which is far from them, that have placed their contentment in a life full of ease and dainties; of which S. Bernard spoke truly, 
S. Bernard s. 48 in Cant.  when he said: A delicious life, is death, and the shadow of death; for certainly it bordereth as near upon hell, as the shadow is near the body whereof it is a shadow. When a soul therefore hath once shaken-of this clog, and mastered the insolency of the flesh, which is the handmaid, there ariseth another commodity; to wit, that the mind, which is by nature mistress, is enabled the more nimbly and cheerfully to run the way of spirit, and in a short time to advance itself greatly in the perfection of Humility, and Charity, and all other Virtues. For our soul being a spiritual nature and substance, dark without virtue, as the air is without light, but bright and ligthtsome when it is adorned with virtue; certainly in all reason, it must needs love virtue more than any earthly thing; in regard virtue is spiritual, and consequently more like unto it, and more beautiful, were not this desire and inclination hindered by the lumpishness of the body; which lumpishness being greatly diminished (for it cannot be altogether shaken-of till we come to heaven) and the burden of this body folded into a small room, and easy to carry▪ our soul must needs be, not only more light to run, but able to fly in pursuit of whatsoever is virtuous and praiseworthy.  
4. To which purpose S. Leo saith excellently well, 
S. Leo s. 2. de ●●●nio. 10. m●n.  that Abstinence breedeth chaste thoughts, reasonable desires, wholesome counsels; and by voluntary afflictions, the flesh dyeth to inordinate lust; and the spirit is renewed by virtue. It is recorded, that our Saviour revealed the like thing to S. Francis, when he 〈◊〉 entered upon a spiritual life, saying to him: Francis, take to thyself hard things, instead of those that are pleasing; and contemn and vilify thyself as much as thou canst. And we read of S. Catharine of Sienna, that our Saviour said the same to her almost in the same words, to wit, that she should seek after bitter things, as if they were sweet; and refuse sweet things, as if they were bitter. Which Truth itself spoke indeed to these two Saints; but we may take it as spoken to every body.  
5. A third commodity of Austerity is, that it is the best disposition a Soul can put itself into, 
Prou. 31.6.  to gain spiritual comfort, and plenty of inward joy. G●●e side● to those that sorrow, and wine to those that have a bitter hart, saith the holy-ghost in the Book of Wisdom. 
Religious do truly mourn.  What is this cider, or this wine, but the sweet lickour of heavenly comforts, whereof the wine-celler is full into which the Spouse in the Canticles rejoiced to see herself admitted? Those therefore only, 
job 28.13.  that be sad and sorrowful, have part of this wine; because (as holy job giveth us to understand) it is not found in the land of those that live at ease. And our Saviour confirmeth it, 
Math 5.  when he saith: Blessed are they that mourn, because they shall be comforted. This is to be sad and to mourn, to cutof from ourselves whatsoever is pleasing to flesh and blood, and may give contentment to our senses; and on the other side, to embrace that which is irksome to them, and doth restrain them of their desires and inclinations. S. Bernard expounding those words of our Saviour which are written in S. john (Unless I go, the Paraclet shall not come unto you) saith very well, that the comfort which his disciples took in his corporal presence, was a bar unto them, that they could not receive the fullness of spiritual graces. 
S ●●rnard servant 6. the As●●ns.  Upon which ground he discourseth thus very pertinently to our purpose: The man that gives himself to worldly pleasures, and follows the allurements of the flesh, of sinful flesh, flesh borne and bred in sin, in which there is no good; how dares he expect the Paraclet▪ He, I say, who is always nailed unto this dunghill, pampers his body, soweth in flesh, & favours nought else but flesh; dares he notwithstanding hope for comfort of the heavenly visitation, that torrent of pleasures, the grace of that vehement Spirit, which (as Truth itself doth witness) the Apostles could not receive together with the flesh of the Word Incarnate? No no; he is far wide, whosoever thinks that such heavenly sweetness can dwell with this du●t and ashes, or that Divine Balsam be tempered with such wicked poison, or the grace of the holy-ghost with these flattering pleasures. By which large testimony of S. Bernard, and many others which might be brought to the same effect, it is plain, that carnal pleasure is a main impediment to all spiritual delights; and chose the strictness of Religious Pa●s●onie, a great entrance thereunto.  

〈…〉 due to 〈…〉 life.  6. Lastly I may reckon among the commodities of an austere life that, which is the chief and total of all other commodities, to wit, Eternal Life, and bliss everlasting. There is no other way thereunto, but the way of the Crosse. This way Christ himself our King, his Apostles and disciples, and all Saints have walked, in labour, and patience, and continual mortification of their bodies, denying here their own souls, that they might possess them eternally. That life, and that glory, is the Euangelical penny, which is not given but to such as labour in the vineyard; it is the Crown, which is not bestowed but upon those that fight lawfully; it is the Prize, which those only gain, that do run; we cannot reign together with Christ and his Saints, unless we suffer with them; we cannot ●eape, but what we have sown. Few words are abundantly sufficient to conclude this point: Since it behoved Christ to suffer, and so to enter into the glory which was beforehand his own by so many titles; how much more must we expect to suffer, that we may enter into an other's glory, a glory which by right we have as often lost, as we have sinned? But I know not what blindness hath possessed mankind, that, as S. Bernard speaketh, so few will go after Christ, and yet all would come unto him; they care not to seek, whom they desire to find; they would fain overtake, whom they will not follow.  
7. Let us rather hearken to S. Hierome, 
S. Hierom. ●p 34.  who having taken upon him to persuade one julian (a noble and wealthy man) to forsake the world, and embrace a Religious life, insisteth chiefly upon this argument: It is hard, yea it is impossible to enjoy the goods that are present, and also those that are to come; here to fill the belly, and there to fill the mind; to pass from pleasure, to pleasure; to be first in this world, and in the next; to be in heaven and earth renowned.  
8. But why do we stand rehearsing the testimonies of men, having the Oracle of our Saviour directly for this purpose? Woe be to you that laugh, because you shall mourn and weep. 
Luc. 6.  And again: Woe be unto you that have your comfort in this world. And he explaineth his meaning by the example of the rich Glutton, expressing no other cause objected unto him by Abraham but this: 
Luc. 16.  Remember that thou receivedst good things in thy life-time, and Lazarus in like manner, evil; but now he is comforted, and thou tormented.  
9 The selfsame he declared to S. Catherine of Sienna in a Vision. 
The vision of S. Catherine of Sienna, acted in a Religious life.  For he appeared unto her, holding in each hand a Crown, the one of thorns, the other of gold and precious stone; and made offer of them both unto her: but upon this condition, that which soever she made choice of in this life, she should be sure to have the contrary in the life to come; if here she chose the crown of gold, there she should have the crown of thorns; if here she made choice of the thorny crown, there she should be crowned with the other of gold. The Virgin, being truly wise, preferred the crown of thorns so far before the other, that taking it greedily with both her hands, she pressed it so hard upon her head, that she felt the pain and marks thereof sometime after. This which S. Catherine then did, all Religious persons do all their life-time long, while they prefer poverty before riches, hard things before those which are easy and commodious, many corporal incommodities, before the delights belonging to the body, before pleasure & secular liberty; upon this general and certain persuasion, that since no man can look to enjoy both kinds of pleasure, it is far better to want the present, than those that are to come; the temporal, than the eternal. Among whom we may reckon that Theodore, 
Theodorus.  who was disciple to great Pachomius. He being borne of parents that were noble and rich, at a certain feast in his father's house, when he was himself but fourteen years of age, began amidst those festival joys, to cast in his mind, the honour, and wealth, and pleasures, and commodities in which he had been bred and borne; and the Divine inspiration concurring with his thoughts, he said within himself: Miserable wretch that I am! what will these short and fading pleasures avail me, if I must lose the eternal? for this is the rule of God's ordination, that no man can enjoy them both. And fetching a great sigh, pensive concerning the point of his salvation, he withdrew himself from company, to the farther part of the house; and prostrate upon the ground, with many tears besought God to teach him his blessed will; and from thence forward, laying aside all commodities belonging to the body, he lived in his father's house the life of a Monk, till not long after he betook himself to the conduct of S. Pa●homius; under whom he arrived in short time to that height of sanctity, which these rare beginnings did promise.   

The fourth fruit of Religion, that it taketh away all occasion of sin. CHAP. XVI.  

Prou. 4. 2●.  THe Divine Wisdom by the mouth of King Solomon doth give us warning, to guard our hart with all safety, and diligence; because life doth proceed from it; giving us to understand, that whosoever hath not this custody over his hart, shall certainly lose his life, seeing life doth proceed from the hart. Nothing is dearer to man then life; and the truer the life is, the more dear it ought to be unto us; and consequently the spiritual life which our soul doth live (a life eternal, like to the life of God and his holy Angels) ought to be much dearer unto us, than this corporal life, which is perishable and uncertain, and which the very flies and beasts have. 
S. Bernard ser 46. inter par.  And if we believe S. Bernard, there is a special necessity of setting a guard over our hart and soul; in respect that the castle of our Soul is seated in an enemie-countrie, and assaulted on every side; and therefore on every side we must also place our guard, that is, stand perpetual Sentinel, and maintain a continual and diligent watch over it. 
S. Greg. in ●nor. 6.12.  S. Gregory reflecting more particularly upon this sentence of the Wiseman, saith, that he adviseth us to keep our hart with all diligence; because, if a city be fenced with a mighty rampire, and walled about with a strong wall, and watchful Sentinel stand on every side of it, and one only passage be left through negligence without a guard; doubtless the enemy will make his entrance there, though every where else he be excluded. In vain therefore do we guard the rest, 
〈◊〉 of this world are gaps for the enemy to 〈◊〉 upon our hart.  if one place be left unguarded, whereby we lie open to the enemy.  
2. Wherefore it behoveth us to consider carefully, which be the gaps and passages, through which our spiritual Enemy may either by open violence and assault enter upon our soul, or by crafty undermining creep into it. These gaps▪ are all creatures of this world: they are the weapons, with which he doth make war against us; if he be disarmed of these, he hath scarce any thing left him, wherewith to give us an assault. For the Devil of himself is so ugly and wicked, that there is hardly a man to be found so desperately naught, that doth not hate and detest him; specially seeing no man doubts, but that they that serve him, must look for nothing but everlasting misery in the life to come; wherefore finding himself to be so much abhorred by every body, he hath no other means to enueigle the hearts of men, and wind them into his snares, but by offering them such things as he knoweth are pleasing to nature. 
S. August. de agon● Christian. ●. 7.  Whereupon S. Augustin likeneth all visible things (which, as the Apostle speaketh, are temporal) to a fisher's hook; for as the fish is glad while it swalloweth the bait, and spieth not the hook; but when the fisher draws his line, it is first tormented within, and soon after, from the joy which it had, it comes to destruction by the very bait, of which before it did so much rejoice: so it fareth with all those that esteem themselves happy by the temporal goods which they possess. They have swallowed a hook, and go away with it in their bellies; but a time will come, when they will feel how great torment they have swallowed in their greediness. What remedy therefore is there, 
Shun the bait, and ye shall scape the hook.  and what course to avoid these hooks, of which S. Augustin speaketh? The remedy is not far●e to seek: we must shun the bait, which hangs upon the hook, and we shall escape the danger. If we be greedy of the bait, we cannot avoid the hook that is hidden under it; that is, eternal death and perdition. All things of this world be the Devil's bait: Honour, power, preferment, wealth, and trading, wife and children, and not to stand reckoning-up every particular, whatsoever is created, whatsoever is under God, or not directly tending to God, serveth him for a bait to catch us; God alone, and those things which are immediately for him, are the only good things, which can not be evil, nor used by the Devil to our destruction. All other things, because they may be good, and may be evil, may also be easily wrested by him to overthrow us, and in them he doth lay his snares; so that we cannot take a safer, not a readier course to save ourselves, then if we shun them al. And this advantage the Devil hath in the world. He is fearful and full of deceit, and doth willingly lay wait in close and shadowish places; in the plain and open field, he can do nothing; such as Religion is; the chief glory whereof is, that it hath nothing of this world.  
3. The things themselves of this world breed no less danger unto us; for naturally they are of that temper & composition, that if a man once meddle with them, 
The love of earthly things is like bird lime.  he can hardly shake them of again. For, as the same S. Augustin saith, the love of earthly things is birdlime to our spiritual wings; thou covetest to have them, and thou cleavest to them. Who will give me wings of a dove? when wilt thou fly where thou mayst truly rest, seeing thou hast wickedly taken-up thy rest here, 
S August. Ser. 31. 〈…〉  where thou sinfully cleavest?  
4. Some will say, this is true of the love of earthly things; but if a man possess them and do not love them, he may escape. S. Bernard (a man experienced in this and all other spiritual things) shall make answer: The chief reason, why men should fly riches, is, because they can hardly yea never be possessed of them, but they must love them. Not only our external but our internal substance is too too slimy & like glue; and the hart of man doth easily 〈◊〉 to that which it often useth. He saith, the hart of man doth easily cleave and stick to every thing which it useth; & we find it so by daily experience. For the very house which we use to dwell in, the city or town where we have made our abode for any time, the company with whom we use to converse, the trade or course of life which we have been wont to hold, do work mightily upon our affection, and we cannot choose but love them; we do not perhaps find it, till we have occasion to part and leave them, but then we feel the trouble, & grieve. Seeing therefore these ordinary things, which of themselves have no great enticing virtue, do notwithstanding work so forcibly in us by use and custom, and breed ● kind of tie & link of friendship between us and them, as there is between friend & friend; how much more forcible will the operation of those things be, which carry with them the face of necessity and delight, as wealth, honour, and the like? Two evils therefore do spring out of the use and love of these things, love necessarily following the use of them: First, by occasion of them, many great sins are committed; as robberies, usury, deceitful bargains through the thirst of avarice, dissembling, flattery, slanders, and many other unworthy acts, through ambition and desire of honour; secondly, though in the pursuit of wealth, or honour, and the like, we do not sin; yet while we are hot in the chase, or quiet in the joyful possession of such things, they stop the course of our mind to God-ward, and either we run not at all, or so heavily and slowly, that it is folly to say, we run.  

S. Greg 3 〈…〉  5. Wherefore S. Gregory saith well, that the commodities of this life are irksome to all Spiritual men, because they know that they are a clog to their inward desires. And elsewhere he gives this reason: Our soul can never be without some delight; for either it pleaseth itself in base and unworthy things, or in things high and worthy; and the more earnest it is in the prosecution of high things, the more it loatheth the inferior; and the hotter it is upon the desire of the inferior, the more damnable is the cold tepidity, with which it goeth about the higher. These two loves can not dwell in one hart: the corn of super●●l Charity can not grow, where the thorns of base delight do choke it. For confirmation of which saying of S. Gregory, we may add, that the mind spending itself upon outward things, doth as it were wander abroad out of itself; and the farther it wandereth from itself, the farther also it goeth out from God; 
S. Au 〈…〉  because the kingdom of God is within us. Which S. Augustin bewailed in himself in these words: Behold, thou wert within, and I without; and there I was seeking thee, and sell fowl upon these beautiful things, which thou hadst made. Thou wert with me, and I was not with thee; those things withheld me far from thee, which could not be, if they were not in thee. S. Augustin knew not this, nor felt it, while he was in it; but understood it then, when inspired by God, he withdrew himself from all creatures into God. And the like happeneth to every body that is plunged in the love of earthly things.  
6. Religious people therefore have this commodity, that they do, as it were, with one blow of the axe cutof all these rubs and dangers, when they absolutely abandon all things; and this makes it easy for them to guard their hart with all manner of custody and diligence, as the Wiseman adviseth. And we shall discover the greatness of this commodity much more plainly, if we consider how weak and feeble our nature is, 
Our nature is weak, when it is to encounter Sense.  when it is to encounter Sense, and fight against those affections, which are always more violently inflamed by the presence of the sensible object; of which weakness we may easily find the reason to be, because while our soul is enclosed within our body, and so linked unto it that they make one man, the things which our Senses as messengers do bring unto it, must needs make great impression in it. We find it in the passion of grief, and joy, and fear, and the rest; which are most violent, when the cause is present. A mother is more violently transported with grief, when she sees the dead corpse of her son lie before her feet, then when she hears of his death. And they that go about to comfort them that are in sorrow, are careful that nothing come in sight, which may refresh the memory of the thing for which they grieve. Wherefore as grief, and anger, and other passions are sooner and more violently stirred by the presence of their proper objects; why should not the same also happen in love? doubtless upon the sight of a thing that is beautiful, it is also much more inflamed. Religious people therefore take a wholesome and profitable course, to hide and sequester themselves from all earthly things, of which the continual sight cannot choose but stir men up to love them, and nourish the same love in them. For if to preserve ourselves chaste and honest, it is not only profitable, 
job. 31.1.  but a necessary means, to enter covenant with our eyes, as holy job speaketh of himself; tell me, I pray, why the same should not also be of force in every other passion of the mind or body? For that which happeneth in that love, which Chastity doth withstand and vanquish, happeneth in all other kinds of love; whether it be of money, or honour, or pleasure, to which avarice, or ambition, or intemperance doth incite us. These kinds of love must in like manner of necessity be much more inflamed by the sight of gold, and the glittering of a purple robe, and the touch of pleasure, which Sense doth affect; and chose, if none of these things ever approach before our eyes, the love of them must needs grow daily less and less, and at last be wholly extinguished.  
7. To which purpose S. Cyprian (or whosoever is the Author of that Treatise of the Single life of the Clergy) saith well, 
S. Cyprian de sing 〈◊〉  that the farther a man is from adversity, the less he feels it; and he that comes not where there is much pleasure, is less stirred to pleasure; and he that sees not riches, is less tempted with avarice. To me it seems too violent a thing for a man always to have his eye upon that which is delightful and pleasing, and still to strive and overcome himself in abstaining from it; and it cannot last long; for it is an old Saying received even among Philosophers, that No violent thing is everlasting. We see it with our eyes, and experience it daily within ourselves in the combat which we suffer in overcoming our appetite and delight in meat. For if we be at a full board, setforth with variety of dainty distress curiously dressed, they set such an edge upon our stomach, that we have great difficulty to temper ourselves, & find it very hard to eat with that moderation, that we exceed not the limits of temperance & sobriety: But if a man come not to board, than it is easy to abstain; because the thought of the selfsame things doth not so whet our appetite, as doth the sight of them; & the same may be said of all other things; for the nature of our desire & passion is the same, & the force of Sense is alike in al.  

S. Aug. 6. Confess. 8.  8. S. Augustin in his Confessions relates of Alipius a passage expressing lively that now we speak of. This Alipius in former times was much taken with an itching desire of seeing the sword-fights or fencing-games, and such like sports; 
Alipius.  and being reclaimed from that madness by S. Augustin, continued his good resolution a long time; till once falling upon some of his companions, he was lead by them with a friendly kind of violence to the fencing-game; yet he went with purpose to keep his eyes shut all the time, and not to behold any thing that passed. He did so for a while, but upon some accident or other of the game, the people gave a great shout, and he could hold no longer, but liftedup his eyes to see what it was, thinking within himself to contemn it, whatsoever it should be. But it happened far otherwise; for as S. Augustin speaketh, he beheld it, and gave a shout; and was transported; and from thence carried away that madness with him, which nettled him to return, not only with those by whom he had been drawn thither, but more eagerly than they; himself drawing others also after him.  
9 This which deceived Alipius at the swordplayes hath deceived and doth deceive many others daily in far worse things▪ it is more than the weakness of man can well away with, to abide the shock of the allurements which do confront us, specially if the fight continue any thing long; for though we abide the brunt for a while, yet either we grow negligent and lay aside our armour, or we grow weary of the battle and cast all quite away, and so are easily overcome. Wherefore the advice of S. Basil is none of the worst; 
S. Basil. 〈…〉 monast. c. 4.  to wit, not only to bridle our inward passions and desires, but to avoid the meeting with those external things which may rub upon our desires, and darken our judgement and understanding, and so raise trouble and war within us. For it is i'll, but pardonable, to be overcome in a war, which an other raiseth against our will: but to bring trouble voluntarily upon ourselves, and to thrust ourselves upon mischief when we need not, scarce deserves either pardon or pity.  
10. By all which as we may evidently discover the danger of a Secular life, so we plainly see the happiness of a Religious state, in that it is sequestered from possession, use, and traffic with any earthly thing, and consequently neither the creatures themselves which they have cashiered, nor the Devil who works upon us by means of creatures, can have access to defile their hearts. Wherefore S. Macarius said well, 
S. Macarius  that this general renunciation of all things, doth not only invite, but constrained us to seek heavenly things; and that this is the chief reason, why Christ adviseth us to forsake our kindred, and to sell all, and give it to the poor; because knowing that the Devil doth use these things as instruments to withdraw our thoughts to earthly things, he bids us leave them all, to the end we may perforce seek heavenly things, and keep our hearts fixed upon God.   

The fifth fruit of Religion: Commodity of serving God. CHAP. XVII.  
ANother great benefit of a Religious state, much importing us towards the eternal welfare of our souls, is the commodity of attending to the knowledge and due consideration of all that which may concern the wel-ordering of our life, and attaining of Salvation. There be those that live in the world as if they had no soul to save; so wedded to things present, that they do not so much as dream of what is to come hereafter, nor take any care of future things; they never consider, who they are, and from whence, 
Inconsideration the root of all mischief.  or what will be their end; they think not of the way they walk, and whither at last it will bring them, if they continue to live after the manner they have begun; though it import them more to consider it, than any other business they have in hand. And living thus in perpetual ignorance of Spiritual things, and of whatsoever belongeth to the service of God and the good of their own souls, they run headlong into most grievous sins, and see it not (poor souls) nor feel it not; Insomuch that the Prophet Hieremie doth with great reason make this the sole cause of all the mischief, which is in the world: 
jere. 12.11  The whole earth is utterly desolate, because no body doth bethink himself in his hart; the frame and building of our Salvation depending in a manner upon the attentive and diligent consideration of those grounds of our life▪ which I mentioned. For consideration breeds knowledge, knowledge love, love a desire and endeavour to prosecute those things which we know and love, and to shun the contrary. And if we be desirous to understand the manifold fruits of Consideration, S. Bernard doth set them down at large in the Books which he wrote of that subject to Pope Eugenius; where among many other things, 
S. Bernard l 2. d● 〈◊〉.  he saith thus: Consideration purifieth the fountain, that is, the mind, from which it springeth; it moderateth our affections; it guideth our actions, it reformeth excesses, it giveth staidness to our behaviour; credit and order to our life; and increaseth knowledge of Divine and humane things; It distinguisheth things which are confused, uniteth them that are distracted; gathereth them to either that are dispersed; diue●h into secrets; searcheth-out truths; discusseth that which is probable, discovereth that which is feigned and counterfeit; It fore-casteth what is to be done; i● examineth that which is done; that nothing may remain uncorrect in the mind, or wanting reformation. In prosperity, it fore-tasteth what adverse thing may happen; in adversity it scarce feeleth that which happeneth; in the one practising Fortitude, in the other Prudence. Thus saith S. Bernard.  
2. It is not therefore hard to understand, how great benefit Religion bringeth to our souls, 
Religion▪ the Art to 〈◊〉 God.  by continual consideration & practice of heavenly things. For as in all other things there be several arts and methods, whereby to come to the perfection of that which we apply ourselves unto, as, the several studies of the La●, of Physic, of Philosophy, and the like; so we may truly and worthily call Religion the art and method of knowing God, and understanding those things which belong to his service, not by bare speculation (for many certainly that have had much profound speculation, do burn in helfi●e, but with the affections of fear and love, in which the main business doth consist. Wherefore let us weigh a little, what helps Religion affordeth to attain to this knowledge, and with ease and facility to compass it. And first it freeth us from external occupations, and worldly businesses, which are ever a great hindrance to the study of heavenly Philosophy; and, as S. Gregory saith well, 
S Gregory 22. Mor. c. 21.  The multiplicity of care of earthly things blindeth, because it holdeth occupied. For the Nature of God (though we were all created to behold and contemplate it) is so free and separate from all connexion with material things, and withal so difficult to understand, and far exceeding our capacity (dwelling, as the Apostle speaketh, in a light inaccessible) that unless our mind be by much labour cultivated and purified, it cannot possibly arrive to conceive what it is. To which purity all earthly things are contrary. For being of themselves corporal, 
1. Tim. 6.16  heavy, and lumpish, the more one busieth his mind with them, the more heavy and earthy it groweth: so that on the one side it cannot raise itself and ascend towards God, in regard of the weight of earthly things lying heavy upon it, and becomes on the other side more unworthy, and less deserving, that such Infinite Purity, as GOD is, should stoop and descend to it; for, as S. Gregory noteth, 
S. Gregory 1. Moral. 8.  the mind cannot raise itself on high, if it be continually busied in tumultuous cares below. For what can it be able to attayne-unto concerning God, being occupied, which, when it is most at ease and quiet, doth labour to conceive a small portion of him; so that the Psalmist saith well; Take leisure, and see that I am God. For he that neglecteth to attend at leisure upon God, hideth from himself the light of his countenance and sight, 
Ps. 45.11.  by his own verdict and opinion.  
3. Moreover, the care of earthly things is intricate and mingled with so many businesses, that it drinketh-up all our time, and gives us no respite to think of heavenly things; the Devil dealing with the servants of this world, 
Exod. 5.  as King Pharaoh dealt with the jews in Egypt. For when they spoke of going into the Desert to offer Sacrifice to God, and told him that God had so commanded, he doubled their day-labour in loom and straw, and overcharged them with work, that they might not have leisure so much as to think or project any such thing, so the Devil still urgeth and thrusteth people of the world upon some new business or other, that he may the easier divert their minds from the wholesome thoughts of their Salvation; and, which is most pitiful, they themselves heap upon their own shoulders new burdens and toilsome labour; and it is not time only that is lost in them, but their mind is so torn in pieces with several occurrences, and those worldly and temporal, that it looseth the strength and vigour for spiritual things, which is a far greater loss. S. Gregory handleth this point excellently well in his Pastoral, declaring how man's hart is oftimes so beaten and tossed with solicitous care of several things, 
S. Gre●. ●. Past. c 4.  that being confusedly divided into many, it is not able to attend to every one in particular. Wherefore a certain wise man (saith he) doth providently admonish saying: My son, let not thy actions be in many; to wit, because the mind that is divided into many things, cannot well collect itself to attend to particulars; and being drawn abroad by immoderate care, it loseth the solidity of holy fear within▪ careful in ordering external things, but ignorant of itself; knowing only how to think of many things, not knowing itself; and entangling itself more than needs in external things (as it were busied in other things upon the way) it forgetteth at what it was aiming; and not caring to search into itself, doth not weigh the loss itself sustaineth, nor know how many ways it faileth. Wherefore seeing external businesses do bring so many hindrances to a spiritual life, as S. Gregory hath rehearsed, and many more; a Religious state being free from them must needs enjoy perpetual quiet, never interrupted with worldly care; that we may give ourselves wholly to ●he contemplation, love, and fruition of God, as much as in this mortal life can be attained unto.  
4. S. Bernard in one of his Sermons to his Brethren, 
S Bern s●r. de Obed.  extolleth this commodity of a Religious state, as containing many other commodities in it, in these words: Here the charge of bringing-up children doth not lie upon you, nor the care how to please a wife. Here you think not of fairs and markets, nor of Secular businesses; you need take no thought neither for diet, nor apparel; you are free in great part from the malice of the day, and solicitude of this life; so hath God hidden us in the hidden place of his Tabernacle. 
S. Tho. 2.2 q 186. a. 6.  S. Thomas his discourse upon this subject is more full, showing how a secular life is troubled with three sorts of unquietness: 
Three distractions incident to ● secular life.  First, in getting, keeping, and disposing of external goods, which cannot but be always accompanied with infinite care and toil. From this most toilsome and heavy burden, the profession of Religious Poverty doth free us. The second kind of trouble is in the government of wife and children, that must be maintained, and bred up, and kept from running-out into such vices, as green years are apt to fall into. And the present care is not enough, but the future must be provided for, that they want not when their parents be dead, but may live, and maintain themselves according to their degree; which makes there is no end in worldly people of heaping-up wealth, and increasing their estate. This endless trouble and molestation, the Vow of Chastity doth cut off. Finally, the third, and most troublesome care of all, is, how to govern our own life and actions; wherein we stand in need of daily counsel, in regard of infinite difficulties which do occur, and the hazard of running into most dangerous errors; from all which anxiety and danger Obedience doth free us, transferring this care to another, who, as the Apostle speaketh, 
Hebr. 13.17  is to give an account for us; and no doubt, but whatsoever he ordaineth concerning us, is the ordination of God himself by his means. This is the effect of S. Thomas his discourse.  
5. Wherefore we shall do well to weigh and ponder, and with all hearty affection to embrace this most delightful and happy quiet and vacation from all things, which Religion bringeth; in regard of the particular kind of force and efficacy it hath to raise our thoughts to the contemplation and knowledge of heavenly things. For as no man can attentively think of any thing in the midst of a great hurry and noise, 
It is hard to think of good things in the world.  but in the dead of the night, or in a solitary place, that very silence and solitude doth invite a man to contemplation; so it is very hard to recollect one's self in the world, where there be such endless distractions; but the quiet of a Religious life doth of its own nature call us, and hold us without difficulty in the study of heavenly knowledge free from all kind of trouble. Whereof S. Bernard is witness, 
S Bernard Ep 78.  saying in a certain Epistle, that Long silence, and continual freedom from worldly noise, doth compel us to meditate heavenly things. He saith, it doth compel us, in regard of the strange force it hath to hold the powers of our soul from wand'ring after idle fancies; to reclaim them, when they chance to stray; and wholly to fix them upon God, and things Divine. This difference between a Religious life and a Secular, is excellently well expressed by S. Gregory, expounding (as he is wont) in a Moral sense, that which in the Book of job is spoken of wisdom: And the sea pronounceth, 
S Greg 〈◊〉 18. c. 25.  it is not with me. What other things is signified by the Sea, than the bitter unquietness of secular minds, which, while they are at variance with themselves, resemble the beating of contrary waves one upon another? A secular life therefore is rightly called a Sea, because being tossed with the tempestuous motions of outward actions, it is deprived of the quiet and stability of inward wisdom. Whereupon on the contrary side the Prophet saith well: Upon whom shall my spirit rest, but upon the humble, and quiet, and fearing my words? 
Es 66.2.  But from earthly minds the spirit doth fly the farther, the less quiet it doth find in them. For he that doth divide himself into endless thoughts of earthly desires, cannot retire himself to the consideration of himself. And so holy job understanding, that wisdom cannot dwell amidst these waves of unquietness, saith: And the Sea pronounceth, it is not with me. For no man doth fully receive it, but he that endeavoureth to withdraw himself from the billows of carnal cogitations; as it is said in another place: Write wisdom in the time of quiet; 
〈◊〉 39.25.  and he that hath little business, shall attain unto it. Thus far S. Gregory.  

All businesses in 〈…〉  6. But some body perhaps will object, that Religious people also do many things, and are cumbered with many toilsome businesses, about necessary occasions of their own, or for the good of their neighbour. The answer is at hand▪ that the business which they undertake for the help of their neighbour, is spiritual, and not worldly or temporal; and consequently draweth them n●t from God, but rather knitteth them faster unto him, because they help God, and God helpeth them, in so great a business. And though that, which they do for their own domestical occasions and necessaries, be in some kind temporal, yet their end is not temporal and secular, as be the ends of secular people; but in all things they aim at Spirit and Eternity; and beside there is an other main and important difference, to wit, that Secular people in following their temporal businesses, have always their eye upon their own private interest, seeking how they may purchase wealth or honour to themselves▪ But when Religious people handle the selfsame businesses, they seek not greatness, but that which is necessary; they intent not any private commodity to themselves, but their thoughts are for the common, their labours are for the Common (as S. Hierome speaketh in the life of Malchus the Monk) which is so far from covetise or private interest, 
S. Hierome.  that it is a great act of Charity; yea these very employments do give a double value and benefit to a Religious life; conjoining the holy and wholesome labours of Martha, with the quiet of Marie; and calling us so to spiritual rest and vacancy, from toilsome care and work, that, if notwithstanding any such work do come in our way, directing it to a spiritual end, and giving it a spiritual form and essence, it turns to our greater benefit; as we cannot say but worldly servants do their Master's service, not only when they wait in their presence, attending their pleasure, but when they go to and fro about their Master's businesses; yea then oftimes they serve them better, and more to their own and their Master's benefit.   

The sixth fruit: Religious people always do the will of God. CHAP. XVIII.  
IF men were truly wise, and understood indeed, what is good for them, 
All must conform their wills to God.  they should aim at nothing more, then perfectly to conform their wills with the will of God, in great and little, and absolutely in all businesses concerning themselves and others. Many reasons might be given of this truth, but one shall suffice for all, to wit, that among creatures themselves, the inferior are ever subject to those that are more excellent and higher in nature; which must needs be of more force in God, he being sole Sovereign over all, King of Kings, Lord of Lords; to whom all mankind is by right and equity subject, for those seven causes, which I declared in the beginning. But in God there is yet an other consideration of more weight and importance. For the Divine Nature, being Goodness itself and equity, and the cause of all things; his Will also is the rule and level of all that is just and upright; so that, as a written copy, or a house, or any other work, is said to be right and perfect, if it be according to rule, and agree with the platform or sampler, after which it was drawn; and how much it swerveth from the model and copy, so many faults and errors there be in it: So the will of God being the only rule, whereby our will is to be ruled, our will is good and honest, or chose faulty & vicious, as it agreeth or disagreeth with his wil Wherefore Climacus saith, 
Climacus grad. 21.  that the servants of God should always as ardently desire to know and perform the will of God, as a Deer, that is even dead with thirst, thirsteth after a fountain of running water. S. Bernard in a Sermon, 
 which he wrote of this subject, having spoken something of Humility, saith: The substance of all Humility doth seem to be this, that our will be subject, as it ought, to the will of God as the Prophet speaketh: Shall not my soul be subject to God? I know that every creature is subject to God, whether it will or no; but voluntary subjection is required of creatures that are reasonable, that they sacrifice voluntarily unto God, and confess his Name, not because it is Terrible, but Holy; not because he is Omnipotent, but because he is infinitely Good. Much more might be said for proof hereof out of the holy Fathers, who do ever highly commend, and often inculcate this point; but one passage of S. Augustin shall suffice, 
S. Augustin 〈…〉 in 〈◊〉.  who is bold to aver, that the Mother of God was not so happy in that the Word was made Flesh in her, as that she did the will of God; and he proveth it by the testimony of the Word himself, 
●uc. 11.28.  when to the woman that cried: Blessed is the womb that bore thee; he presently answered; yea rather blessed are they that hear the word of God, and keep it; which being so, can there be a thing more profitable, then that which is better than to be the Mother of God? a function, than which there cannot a greater befall Man or Angels. And this is the work of Religion; binding us so to the will of God, that we wholly depend on it in all things, great an● little, and are governed by it (as I have said before) not only in businesses of greater moment, but in every ordinary and daily action. Whereupon Cass●an in ●is last Collation, 
Cass●an  having said many things of the necessity and greatness of this conformity and dependence, and showed how our Saviour left us a platform and model thereof, coming not to do his own will, but the will of his Father▪ and professing, that that was his food and sustenance, addeth, that this virtue is specially practised by those that living in Religious houses are governed by direction of a Superior, and do nothing of their own head, but their will dependeth of the will of their Abbot.  
2. This benefit of Religion will be every way more evident, if we consider the manner, in which it bringeth this, which we have said, to pass. For as in a piece of ground the thorns and thistles are first to be voided, before the seed be sown; so Religion first doth rootout all impediments of virtue, to the end to prepare the mind the better; 
Our o●ne will the chief hindrance of virtue.  of which impediments the chiefest is our own will; the pestilent disposition whereof can not be more signally expressed, then in the words of S. Bernard: Our own will, saith he, is a great evil; by it, thy good is not good to thee. And in an other place: Let the servants of their own will hear and tremble to understand, 
S. Bern. s●r. 7. in Cant. & s●r. 5. the Resurrect  with what fury self-will doth oppose the Majesty of our Lord God; first, while it will be, as it is, self-will, it withdraweth and stealeth itself from under his government, whom it ought to serve, as Author and Maker of it. And doth it content itself with this injury? It presumeth farther; as much as lieth in it, it taketh all from God. Thus speaketh that holy man, and much more, always a deadly enemy of self will, which there also he calleth a leprosy.  

Conformity with the will of God, our greatest happiness. and Four enemy, thereof.  3. Other thing, there be beside, which hinder a man from uniting his will with the will of God; which the same S. Bernard doth particularly set down in another place. For having showed that the greatest felicity the Angels have, is, that their will is wholly conformable to the will of God, he addeth, that we also must desire the like conformity, and labour for it. But we have four main obstacles in the business, to wit, Malice, that is, a natural kind of inclination to vice; Infirmity, in regard this corruptible body, which we carry about us, doth oftimes hinder our will from subiecting itself to God, as it should; 
S Bern s▪ 6. in quadr.  Concupiscence, tearing us in pieces with infinite and unspeakable desires; and finally Ignorance; for how shall I follow (saith he) the will of God," which I know not? For I know it but in part only; and not yet, as I am known to God. Let us therefore see, what helps Religion affords against so many, and so dangerous enemies, which the Will of God hath within us; and how it utterly defeats them. And first, it laboureth nothing more than absolutely to stubbe-up this root of all evil, which is self-will; curbing and beating down the very first motions thereof, as much as may be; and accustoming a Religious person so much to do nothing of his own head, but to govern himself wholly by an other's will and command, that every one doth exactly observe that, 
S. Hierome. Ep 4.  which S. Hierome (a man well skilled in what belongeth to a Religious Institute) writeth to Rusticus, a Monk of his time: That thou mayst not do thy own will, eat that which thou art commanded to eat, wear that which is given thee, worke-out the task which is set thee, be subject to one whom thou hast no mind to, go to bed weary, and sleep as thou goest, and be fain to rise again before thou hast slept thy sleep. Wherefore as self-will doth daily grew stronger and stronger in a Secular man by practice and custom thereof, that a man may sooner break it, then bend it, as an old crooked tree full of knots: So the will of a good Religious man by contrary custom being continually beaten down, there remains not at last so much as one bough or twig thereof entire.  
4. To this we may add the concurrence of the subject with the Superior, and the particular diligence and care of them both; on the one side to subdue and mortify, 
The ancient practice of breaking our will in small things.  on the other side to resist and withstand, the desires of self-will. And as for the Superiors; as those, that undertake to break a horse, sometimes spur him up to make him run, sometime hold him in to his pace, sometimes turn him round, sometimes when he is upon his speed they suddenly check him, or put him on when he is given to stand, teaching him to go or stand, as he is guided, and not of his own brain: So they endeavour with all diligence, by contrary exercises to break the wills of their subjects, even in things which of themselves are trifles, but that of final things, greater do depend. For when S. Antony the Great commanded S. 〈◊〉 (surnamed the Simple) to sow his clothes, and presently to unrip them again; to make a basket, and to undo it again; when others of those ancient heremites and Monks were wont to bid their Disciples fetch water, and pour it forth again; or water a dry stake for a whole year together; or w●en S. Francis (as we read of him) bad Friar Masseus turn round in the high way, till he was giddy, and fell down diverse times: finally when other holy men commanded the like things, to those whom they had undertaken to instruct in Spirit and Virtue, what did they, but rootout of their minds the very relics of self-will and self-conceit? And that which anciently these Fathers did, that is now also practised in Religion, where discipline is in force. 
A secular life far 〈…〉 life in thi● point.   
5. Now let us consider a Secular man, what he is in this point, and take not an ordinary man, much less any of those that the Apostle describeth to be filled with all iniquity, malice, avarice, murmurers, detractours, inventors of evil, such men never think of virtue; but let us take a man that is virtuous and upright, that cometh often to the Sacraments, that is (as job said of himself) a father to the poor, 
Rom. 1 29.  an eye to the blind, a f●ot to the lame, 
job. 2●. 2●▪  and, in a word, keepeth exactly all the Commandments of God, yet lives at his own will, and the good works which he doth, he doth them as he thinks good himself, what, and how much, and how long he pleaseth; this man is no i'll man, yea he is highly to be commended; yet if we talk of perfection, he is far inferior to a Religious man. For his own will may bea●e great sway in all the good deeds he doth, undertaking them or continuing them, because he finds a sweetness in them, and the exercise of them is pleasing to his will, which oftimes (while we think not, or reflect not on it) seeketh itself; and when it falles-out to be so, our own will is to be taken for the source and fountain of all those actions, howsoever they may carry a fai●e show, and (be he what he will, he is not far from that deceit, which S. Gregory attributes to vainglory; 
〈…〉 ●4. mor. c. ult.  that, whether it be taken in earthly things, or in heavenly virtues, the vice is the same, but that it puts-on an other hue, that it may not be discovered. So it happeneth oftimes in good works; we think we serve God, and we serve ourselves; for it may be that though the works be good, and in others to be commended; yet God, who is Sovereign over all, doth not perhaps desire that kind of work at thy hands, but some other; or if he would have thee bestow thy time in that which thou dost, yet it was a chance that thou dilst fall upon it; not weighing so much what might be pleasing to God, as suffering thyself to be driven upon it by thine own inclination and desire.  
6. Now if things, which of themselves are good and spiritual, do lie open to so much deceit; what shall we think of other things which are indifferent, and may be made good or evil, according to the circumstances with which we do them? such as are most part of humane actions; as, to go, to stay, to bargain, to do this or that, or not to do it; these things are to be done according to the will and pleasure of God, as I said before. And how shall our souls have light concerning them, unless we have means to derive it into us, and a rule to instruct and enlighten us in these particulars? Therefore no doubt, but as the sta●e and course of life, wherein we retain our own will, and suffer ourselves to be carried by the inclinations thereof, is subject to all the inconveniences that grow from our own will, as I have heretofore declared. On the other side, Religious people, who give away their own wills, and by daily purpose and endeavour, and moreover by Vow, deprive themselves wholly of it, 
 are free from these dangers and damages. And thus Religion having once digged-up the foundation of self-will, it doth easily overcome and put to flight all the other opponents of the Divine will, which 〈◊〉 rehearsed before out of S. Bernard. It overcometh M●lice, instilling Piety and unfeigned Charity. It strengtheneth our Infirmity by wholesome counsel, & practise of Fortitude and Patience. With the scythe of Mortification, it cutteth down a● manner of Concupiscence, engrafting in lieu thereof an earnest desire and thirst of the true and Sovereign Good. Finally it instructeth our Ignorance with that fullness, that no man can doubt what God requireth at our hands. 
〈…〉 come to kn●● the 〈…〉.  For in Religion there be m●nie most certain ways to know the will of God; of which ways, because it is to our purpose, we will here say something.  

〈…〉 25.  7 〈◊〉, in the place above alleged, having spoken of the necessity, and 〈…〉 of this business; setteth down the means by which we may overcome it. Whosoever, saith he, will know the will of God must lay aside their own fancies and opinions, and first put themselves in an indifferency, inclining to neither side, but be prompt and ready at every sign which God shall give them of his will; Secondly, with sincere confidence they must beseech their Fathers and spiritual Brethren, to tell them what they are to do, and receive the advice, which they shall give them, without any doubt or demur, as if it came from the mouth of God; though they, whom they ask, be not themselves very perfect or spiritual. For God is not unjust, that he will dec●au● those souls, which with confidence and humility submit themselves to an other's direction For if God at the sound of a Cithern did declare to the Prophet Elizeus, what he desired to know; much more will he do it by the voice of a reasonable man, as being an Instrument more apt to receive influence from him. Thus saith Climacu●; whose argument if it hold in any private man, in regard of the humility wherewith we subject ourselves to an other man; much more must it hold in one that is our lawful Superior, and God's Vicegerent over us; and we may be very confident, that when we obey such a Ruler of our life and actions in any thing that is not expressly contrary to the Law of God, 
Luc. 10 16.  we do the will of God himself saying: He that heareth you, heareth me.  
8. This is the great happiness which a Religious man hath; 
And the happiness thereof.  a happiness, than which there can not in this life be a greater, resembling the happiness which the Angels in heaven enjoy; of whom (as noble and blessed as they are) the Prophet David could not give a greater commendation, then to style them, as he doth in a certain Psalm, 
Psal. 102. ●●  powerful in virtue; doing his word; to hear the voice of his speech; ●l you his minister's, who do his w●l And our Lord and Saviour himself did not think, we could ask of God a better or more wholesome thing, 
Mat. 6.10.  then that which he taught us in that Divine form of prayer; Thy will be done, in earth as it is in heaven. And if there be a place on earth, where the will of God is always fulfilled, though not equally as it is in heaven, yet in a manner very near unto it, Religion is it: where every one is most ready and free to obey God at every little sign of his w●l; and God doth govern and direct every one, in what manner, and in what things he is best pleased, by the hand and conduct of the Rectours and Superiors.  
9 The jews of old had recourse to the Ark▪ and in presence thereof consulted God, 
1. Reg. 13.  when any matter of difficulty did arise; and we read that David specially, among the rest, by answer received from thence, was delivered from many dangers, and foretold many things which he was to act; as touching the assault which he made upon Cela, and the treachery of the men of that town, that he should go into judea, to take possession of the Crown, and the like: yet this help was not general to all, nor continual, but only for people of worth, and matters of weight. How great a benefit therefore ought we worthily esteem it to have such a domestical Oracle, as I may call it, by which we are directed what to do, even in the least things that can be; and eschew infinite dangers which might come upon our souls. Wherefore, whether it be spiritual profit we aim at, or tranquillity and content of mind, if we were to study, we could not invent a more convenient way, than this is. For, as S. Bernard writeth, 
S. Bern s 3. ●e r●surr.  we lose nothing, when we leave our own will, but are great gainers by it, in regard we change it for the better, for we change it into the will of God, which is no small profit. Our will most commonly is idle and unprofitable, oftimes unreasonable and hurtful; his will is always holy, always just, and best for us to follow. We of ourselves may fall into many errors, & are often deceived, not knowing what we would have ourselves, coveting things that are hurtful, and thinking perhaps that they are profitable for us; but God cannot desire, but what is best and most profitable for his Elect; so that without all doubt, it is best for us to commit ourselves and all that belonged to us, wholly to his wil  

A rare example of S. Fran●●s.  10. The life of S. Franci● will funish us with a rare example in this kind, to confirm what hath been said. He being in a great doubt, and having long disputed within himself whether he should give himself wholly to a solitary life and contemplation, or rather withal attend to the help and salvation of his neighbour, reasons on both sides beating in his mind, and having no revelation from God concerning this point, as in others he was wont to receive; he resolved to take this course. He sent to S. Clare and the Nuns of her Monastery, and to his Brother Sylvester (who was at that time retired to a solitary place in a certain mount) that they should by prayer inquire, which of the two courses were most conformable to the will of God, and send him word. Now when the messenger returned from them both, he received him as if, coming from God, he had brought answer immediately from him. He washed his feet, he set him down and served him himself at board; then he drew him aside into a mountain hard by, and there barehead, upon his knees, with his arms on-crosse, he spoke thus unto him: what doth my Lord jesus Christ b●d me do? And when the Messenger told him, that he was to help his neighbour also; presently without delay, from the place where he stood, he returned not home, but went about that new business so fervently, that he did not so much as mind the way he took, but crossed over fields and woods, where otherwise there was no way.  

Instructions gathered out of it.  11. Thus S. Francis behaved himself; and out of this his fact we may gather many good documents to the purpose we are speaking of. First, with what earnest endeavour we ought to search-out the will of God even in good and laudable things; with what reverence and devotion we ought to hear it; with what fervour to accomplish it; how secret the will of God is, and hidden from us in the darkness in which we live, seeing so rare a man, a man so dear and familiar with God, was so long in suspense and doubtful in a matter of so great weight and consequence, and withal so pious; finally we may see the way how to come to know the will of God, plainly and without deceit. S. Franc●s, because in his Order he had no Superior, was fain to take advice of his Inferiors; but we receive more certain light from our Superiors, to whom God hath promised his certain assistance. He in a matter of great moment was fain to send far-off; we have them at home, by whom we may understand all things, great and little; so that, unless we will, we need not fail in the least, but rather in the very lest work ourselves great measure of Grace and Glory.   

The seaventh fruit, that the Commandments are more easily kept in Religion. CHAP. XIX.  
REligion bringeth us another benefit, which is not to be passedover in silence; to wit, that it maketh the precepts of the Decalogue, and all others, so easy and light, that they may be fulfilled without any difficulty. It may seem strange, that Religion adding to the Precepts many things in show hard and tedious, as voluntary poverty, mortification of our will and senses, watching, praying, and much corporal affliction; yet these things should be so far from increasing the difficulty of the observance of them, as to make them more easy to be observed. The like hereof we see in diverse works of art and human industry: The ballast in a ship, though it be heavy and weighty, helpeth the ship to brook the seas; and without it, it could not put forth. A cart or wain is lighter, if you take away the wheels, yet it goeth heavier; and with them it bears great carriages with ease. 
S. Bernard ● p. 72.  S. Bernard useth this example of a wain or chariot; as also of the feathers of a bird, which, as he saith, do after a strange manner make them more corpulent, and more light; a wonderful work of Nature. The bulk is greater, and the burden lighter; and by how much the body is bigger, the weight is less. Which he applieth to the Euangelical Counsels, styling them properly the burden of Christ; which doth not only not load a man, but carry him that is laden with them, and maketh the burden of the Precepts far more easy to be undergone.  
2. The difficulty and necessity of keeping the Precepts will give us better to understand, 
The Commandments, are hard to be kept in the world.  how beneficial and commodious this other is. Our Lord expresseth the necessity of keeping the Commandments in these words: If thou wilt enter into life, keep the Commandments; as who should say; he that doth not keep them, walketh straight to death, and death everlasting. 
Math. 19.17. Ps. 16.4.  The difficulty of keeping them, is setforth by the Royal Prophet, when he calls them hard ways; and the experience which every one hath of the corruption of his own nature and propension to sin, the wicked life and evil example of others, the laws and principles of the world, with which living in the world it is hard to break, the very sins and daily falls of men in the world, do sufficiently show how hard they are to keep. How few are there in the world that keep themselves from rash oaths, from coveting an other's goods, from wantonness of the flesh, as the Precepts require? And the few that by God's grace do maintain themselves unspotted, what labour, and care, and contention are they put-to? That therefore, wherein Secular people do most commonly fail and perish, and wherein others, that do not perish, must take such excessive pains, and, as I may say, sweat it out; Religious people find great ease, and perform it with little or no difficulty. The reasons thereof are many; and first, because (as we said elsewhere, speaking of it, as of the source and head of many other commodities) Religion doth take away the matter almost of all sins; and the matter being taken away, the observance of the Commandments of itself is easy. For our will is as it were a kind of flame or fire; the fuel of this fire, is the presence of a pleasing object; put this fuel to it, and presently it will flame up; take away the fuel, and either it will not kindle at all, or much more slowly and remissely. And this is that which Religion doth, taking us out of the world, and the allurements thereof. And so S. Basil even for this reason saith, 
S Basil in proamio Reg. sut.  that Religion is highly to be esteemed, terming it a quiet life; void of multiplicity of businesses, and a help to the wel-obseruing of the doctrine of the Gospel.  

〈…〉 Commandments in Religion.  3. A second cause, why Religious people find so much case in keeping the Commandments, is the strength and vigour which a soul gets by little and little by the practice of Religious discipline, growing into great hatred of all vice and uncleanness, and great love of virtue and honesty, abhorring nothing more than sin; not only because God is offended therewith, but because it is in itself m●st ugly and deformed.  
4. A third reason i● because, whereas all men must commonly are induced to sin, out of con●●ouines, or ambition, or incontinency, either directly offending in these things, or to compass their pretences in the 〈…〉 of these poisoned roots are found in Religion, but the 〈…〉 arie virtues; in lieu of the desire of temporal things, profesting 〈…〉 mble Obedience, in steed of ambition and desire of rule; the flower of 〈◊〉, in steed of filthy lust.  

 5. Besides, Religious people are always employed in things of a higher nature; and therefore do more easily perform those which are of lesser moment. For as to a man that hath used himself every day to carry a hundred weight, it is nothing to carry twenty; so when a Religious man hath forsaken all his own land and living, what hard matter will it be for him to withhold himself from taking-away or coveting that which is fewer? And being accustomed to carry the yoke of Obedience, how can it be hard to resist the temptation of ambition and desire of honour? And the like may be said of all other things which are either commanded or forbidden by the Law of God.  

〈…〉 Eusebius.  6. This is that which Eusebius, a man of great sanctity, taught us by his own example, as Theodoret writeth in his History. For having on a time over-curiously beheld certain husbandmen that were ploughing, for punishment of this small fault, he put an iron collar about his own neck, and fastened it with a chain about his middle; so that of force he must always hold his head downwards; and this penance he endured forty years together, never being able to rear himself and look up to heaven. And being asked why he did so, and what benefit he hoped thereby; his answer was, that he 〈◊〉 Satan from greater combats, and from tempting him with pride or wantoness, to these smaller conflicts; in which if he should be overcome, there were no great harm done; if he did overcome, the greater shame was the Devil's that could not be master in such small trifles. A memorable saying, and worthy of so spiritual and holy a man; and by it we may understand to our purpose, that it is true, that Religious men are the farther from transgressing the Commandments of God, in regard they take so much care to perform many smaller things pertaining to his service.  
6. A fourth reason of this facility in keeping the Precepts drawn from the nature of the state itself, is that this course of life is above the Law, and consequently doth lift a man above that which the Law requireth. And as in a Schrole, where there be many forms, according to the several capacity of the scholars, and the progress which they have made in learning, they that be in the higher form, do the exercises with great ease, which they of the lower form can not at all, or very hardly, perform; so they that walk this higher way of perfection, do not so much as feel the burden of the Precepts, they are so light unto them; because, as I said before, their ability is greater, & the state itself doth enable them the more. Wherefore if there were no other thing but this to be found in Religion, that it enableth us to keep the Commandments of God constantly, with great ease and pleasure, and with very little danger of ever sinning against them; we should not need to seek any other benefit by it. For the more it enableth us in this kind, the more certain and easy it doth make our passage to eternal glory, to which we must come by keeping the Commandments.   

The eighth fruit of Religion, proceeding from the humble lowliness of the State. CHAP. XX.  
ANother great commodity of Religion, is that it is void of all worldly pomp, ostentation, and 〈◊〉 and in outward show, low and humble; that every Religious man may truly say with the Prophet David: 
Ps. 8●. 11.  I have chosen to be an 〈◊〉 in the house of God, rather than to dwell in the tabernacles of sinners. For Religion (as I have showed elsewhere) is truly the h●use and household 〈◊〉; and the Religious certainly do choose this abjection, because neither m●annes of birth, nor necessity, doth enforce it upon them; 
 but t●ey undertake i● voluntarily of their own accord. S. Bernard doth so highly esteem this benefit, that he thinks it is a direct sign of Predestination. For in one of 〈◊〉 S●rm●ns turning his speech to his Brethren, thus he speaketh: Who knoweth whether all your names, who be here present, be written in Heaven, and signed in the Book of Predestination? Me thinks, I see in the conversation of so great humility, s●me ●i●nes of your Vocation and justification. Wherefore, dearly beloved, persever in the course you have undertaken, that by humility you may ascend to 〈◊〉. This is the way, and there is no other way but it; he that goeth otherwise, doth rather fall; for Humility alone exalteth, humility alone leads to life. If therefore we be of S. Bernard's mind, there is no cause, why we should envy Secular people their preferments, or purple robes, or external pomp; rather we ought to esteem it very beneficial and highly glorious, that we live without glory, because this Humility is not only an assured way, but (as he saith) the only way to eternal Salvation; and is particularly rich in three commodities, or, as I may call them, privileges, which here I shall set down.  

Three privileges of the humble state of Religion.  2. First, God doth particularly affect this kind of humble state and communicate himself and his heavenly treasures with it more plentifully, more familiarly, and with greater sweetness. A strange thing; yet such as the Prophet David doth also point at, when he saith: Our Lord is high, and regardeth humble things; 
Ps. 111.6.  and knoweth high things afarre-of. For likeness doth most commonly breed friendship and love; yet God being so infinitely great, as he is, doth take most delight in the love and conversation of such as are little and lowly; and chose doth stand aloof and look afarre-of upon those that are high and lofty.  
3. Secondly, this kind of Humility, is the fittest coin, we can layout upon the purchase of eternal glory. For though we are all created for that Everlasting Happiness, as the only End of us all; yet God, as a most understanding and upright prizer of such things, hath most justly ordained, that we should not come gratis by so great rewards, but buy them at a price; and the price is to suffer in this life things contrary to that, which there we shall enjoy; as, because there we shall have most perfect satiety, we must purchase it here, 
Mat. 5.  with hunger and thirst; the infinite comfort which there we shall have, is promised only to those that mourn; and to that abundance of all kind of wealth, we must come by poverty; and as all other happiness, which is to be had in that Heavenly Kingdom, is to be bought in this fashion, so the infinite honour and glory which is there, is to be bought with humility and contempt of ourselves. 
Luc. 14.11.  And because we should not doubt thereof, our Saviour gave this general rule, that every one, that exalteth himself, shall be humbled; and every one that humbleth himself, shall be exalted.  
4. Thirdly, by this Humility we avoid many dangers of our soul, and impediments to virtue, which are incident to a life led in glory and pomp; and in steed of them, we have in it many helps to salvation. For it is in the life of man, as it is with them, that climb up to the tops of trees, or houses; if they fall, they crush themselves most miserably; and how easy is it for them to fall, if their hand or their foot do but slip? and what care must they have that they do not slip? Those that keep themselves below on the ground, fall not so soon, not so dangerously: So they, that are in honour, run great hazard, not only while they are climbing, and pretend, and labour for it, but even when they are seated in the chair; 
Honour, the cause of ruin.  for we are by nature apt to slide, and tumble downwards, and shall meet with many that will strive to thrust us along. They that keep themselves below on the ground, and walk not in great and wonderful things above their reach, are secure.  
5. We might bring many examples to this purpose, but that which happened to Saul, the first King among jews, is so notorious, that it shall serve for al. While he was but a private man, he was little also in his own conceit; the meannes of his estate helping him to be humble in mind; But when he was seated in the Throne, as King, he became so proud and insolent, that he may well be ranked with the wickedest Kings that ever were. Before, he saved the life of his enemies whom the people would have killed; afterwards he laboured to kill his friend and son-in-law.  
6. Whereby we may see, how much we are beholding to Religion, for keeping us out of the eyes of men, and from worldly preferments, in a holy and wholesome place of refuge; where we may abide unknown to the world, and it unknown to us. 
S. by'r s ●. de natiui●●.  For this is that great and important Counsel, which S. Bernard gathereth out of the life of our Saviour, comprised in a word or two, but large in effect and substance: Love to be unknown; 
How happy it is, to be unknown.  an obscurity so glorious, that it is far more desireful thus to lie hidden, then to be renowned, and walk in the mouths of men. For the more a man is forgotten by men, the more mindful God is of him; and the more he is despised by men, the more graceful he is in the sight of God and his Angels. 
job. 12.4.  Both which holy job doth express in these words: The simplicity of the just man, is laughed at; a lamp contemptible in the thoughts of rich men, 
S. Greg. 10. mor. 17.  prepared for the time to come. Upon which place S. Gregory discourseth in this manner: The simplicity of the just man is deservedly called a lamp, and contemptible; a lamp, because inwardly it shineth; contemptible, because outwardly it doth not shine; within, it burneth with the flame of charity; without, it glittereth not with any glorious aspect. He therefore is lightsome, and is contemned, that shines in virtue, and is esteemed abject Who is there therefore, that considering so great rewards, had not rather rank himself with those that are contemned, that he may be glorious with God, then with those that make a fair show without, and within have no worth in them? 
Exod. 26.  In which regard me thinks Religious men may be likened to the Tabernacle, which God commanded to be made by the Children of Israel, and gave directions, in what fashion they should make it; to wit, within of sweet wood, guilded, and hung with silk curtains of violet and purple colours, running upon rings of gold; without, it should be covered with heat-cloath, and sheepskins, which made the outward show thereof but homely▪ so a Soul, dedicated and consecrated to God, aboundeth with many rare spiritual gifts and ornaments, as Chastity, Patience, Obedience, and other Virtues; but they lie hidden from the eyes of men under the poor and abject habit which they wear, which notwithstanding keepeth virtue in them the longer; because virtue is best preserved, when it is hidden; if once it come to be spied by men, thieves will have about with it; These thieves are the eyes and tongues of men themselves, bereaving us either wholly or in great part of the glory, which we expect for our good works, 
Mat 6.16.  by eyeing and praising them; that we may worthily fear that saying: Thou hast received thy reward. Wherefore S. Bernard, 
S Bernard qu● habit. sir 4.  among the reasons, which should move us to embrace a Religious course reckoneth the benefit of concealing our good deeds to be one of the chiefest; 
Mat 13 44.  his words are these: In the mean time if we have any good thing, we must needs hide it; because the man that found the treasure of the kingdom of heaven, hid it, for which reason we also hide ourselves in Cloisters and Woods; and if you will know, how much we gain by hiding ourselves, I believe, that if any one here among us should in the world do the fourth part of that which here he doth, he would be adored as a Saint, esteemed-of as an Angel from heaven; here he is daily reprehended and chidden, as if he did neglect his duty. Do you think it a small benefit that you are not held Saints, before you be so indeed? or do you not fear, least receiving here so final a reward, you fail of your reward in the world to come? Therefore it is very necessary to be concealed, not only from the eyes of other folk, but much more from thyself. Thus far S. Bernard.  
7. Some will say, that even in Cloisters and Religious houses, many are so conspicuous in learning, 
How Religious men are honoured, and without compass of danger.  or eloquence, or in virtue and sanctity of life, that they are admired, and spoken-of through the whole world; and many times people get more renown and glory living in Religion, then if they had lived in the world, and gaped after honour and preferment. And this is very true; whereof I shall speak more at large in process of this Treatise; for the present it is enough to know, that honour, which like a shadow followeth those that fly from it, is not so dangerous; because as God doth send it, so it belongeth to his Divine providence to give strength to them, upon whom he layeth such a burden, to bear it without loss, yea with increase of virtue; and it is one of the most assured effects of Obedience, like an Antidote, to preserve those that live under it, from the danger they might falinto by the poison of Honour.  

The example of S. Thomas of Aquin.  8. This was manifest in S. Thomas of Aquin; whose example may consort with all Religious people, their case being the same. When he read Divinity at Paris with great applause, and his Superiors thought fit he should be made Doctor; at the first, out of modesty, he would by no means hear of the promotion, pretending want of sufficiency (if they would have believed himself) and want of age, being then scarce twenty years old. His mind being busied in these thoughts, and weeping bitterly, in the nighttime he thought he saw a man of venerable and grave aspect standing by him, and ask why he was so sad, bade him confidently and without fear obey his Superiors; for such was the will of God; and that he should take for the Text of the Speech he was to make at his Commencement, these words of the Psalm: 
Psal. 1ST 1●.  Watering the 〈◊〉 from the higher places of them. With which Vision he was so animated, that afterwards he took his Degree without any fear or trouble.  
9 Besides, it helpeth much to the preservation of Religious Humility in the midst of honour, that the glory, which followeth a Religious man, doth n●t so much accrue to his particular, as to God, & to the Religious Order, of which he is a member; as if a man do any thing with his hand, we do not say, the hand did it, but the man; or if in an army the day be won by the valour of a few men, the fame of the victory rests not in those few, but redounds to the whole army, & the army is called victorious; so in Religious Families, when any thing is exquisitely performed by one man among them, the man himself is as he was, neither higher nor lower, but the honour spreadeth itself to the whole house, whereof he is part; by which means, though he be employed abroad in the eyes of the world, he still remains hidden; & every one taking notice of him, he is yet unknown; and forsaketh not humility in the top of Honour. And truly, that Religious people should be thus humble and honoured, is both profitable and necessary; for if they should always remain in obscurity, what could their labours profit the Church? and if on the other side they should be puffed-up with glory and applause, this also would nip the fruit, which they might bring forth, and make them like a tinkling Cymbal, which carries but an empty and unprofitable sound in one's care.   

The ninth fruit; that Religion is the School of Virtue. CHAP. XXI.  
AS among men there be several art; and sciences; and to deliver and teach them, several Masters and schools appointed; one for the exercises of all kind of Learning, an other for Chivalry and feats of arms, others for other kinds of discipline and knowledge: So the method of gaining Virtue is delivered in Religion; in so much that if we would define Religion, we may justly call it the School of Virtue; which property and benefit that it may be the more conspicuous to all, we must suppose some few things and first how bore our soul is of all kind of virtue, if we consider it as it is in itself alone. 
Ar●stotle 2. E●h. c. 1.  Aristotle (whom S. Thomas in these Moral matters doth punctually follow, almost as if he did but translate him out of one language into another) doth teach expressly, 
Virtue is not naturally 〈◊〉.  that naturally we have no Virtue in us; and proveth it by many reasons. Whereunto by the light of Faith (which he wanted) we may add, that we are not only not borne with Virtue, but with much corruption, and depravation, and with great propension and forwardness to all kind of vice; but only that together with these evils, two things remain in us which are good, to wit, some inclination to Virtue, given us by the Author of Nature, who first made us good and upright; and certain seeds thereof, which may easily be brought to ripeness, if we will suffer them to grow, and by care and diligence further them.  
2. Out of which we may gather two things to our present purpose. First, how fowl a thing a Soul naked of Virtue is. For as our body, if it want diverse limbs, or in many years grow no bigger than when it was first borne, is ugly to see to, and unprofitable: so if our soul want the ornament of virtues, which are as it were the parts thereof, it is lame & imperfect, and consequently ugly and deformed. Secondly, what may be the best or only necessary way, to get these virtues, of which our soul is destitute. Aristotle saith there is no other way, 
Aristotle. 2 〈◊〉 ● 6. To exercise the act of Virtue, is the 〈◊〉 to get Virtue.  then by exercising acts of Virtue, and performing in work that which Virtue doth require; otherwise (saith he) then is the fashion of most men, who, if they discourse of Virtue, think they have it sure enough; which is a great error in them; and they resemble some sick people, that give diligent ear to that which the Physicians say, but will not observe their prescriptions; and as these shall never recover the health of their body, so the others will never be sound in some. This is the true and solid discourse of this prime Philosopher. For Virtue is a Habit, as Philosophers call it; and seeing a habit is not gotten but by often acts, Virtue also cannot be gotten but by use and often practise thereof. And speaking of Moral Virtues, there can be no doubt made, but this doctrine is true; and the same doth hold also in the Theological Virtues. For though they be at first infused into our souls by the sole gift of God, yet (if we set infants aside that are new baptised) they require beforehand some preparation of mind, which consists in the exercise of some acts; and after they are infused, they are increased and strengthened by the same acts. Wherefore that which S Bernard speaketh of Humility, 
S. Bernard  may be said of all other Virtues, the reason being the same in al. The humbling of ourselves is the way to get humility; as patience is the way to have peace; and reading, to get knowledge. If thou desire the virtue of Humility, spare not to humble thyself, for if thou canst not endure to be humbled, thou canst not attain to Humility  

In Religion Virtue is in continual practice.  3. Seeing therefore it is so certain and evident, that Virtue cannot be gotten but by labour and practise; it doth evidently follow, that the course of life which ministers more often and better occasion to practise the same, is more beneficial to our souls, & more useful towards Salvation. This (I dare boldly say) among all other courses, is Religion, where Virtue is in the prime and continual practice. For as for the Love of God and our Neighbour, we may spare a labour to speak of it; because it is apparent, that in Religion people do nothing else but seek how they may daily increase in the love of God; & there cannot be among men more love and friendship towards one another, than there is among Religious people; who as they are indeed, so are called Brethren, as it were proceeding from one belly. The like may be said of Obedience, the practice whereof runs through every thing that is done in Religion. Humility is so frequent in this kind of life, that it may seem to be composed of no other thing; 
S. Bernard Hom. 4. 〈◊〉.  and is therefore deservedly termed by S. Bernard, the School of Humility For, according to the account which worldly people use to make, nothing can be more abject and contemptible than Religion, in outward show, poor, hard, and obscure; performing accordingly base and servile offices, and savouring of nothing but Humility, in their apparel, lodging, office, 
S. Io. Chrys Rom. 58 ad p●p. Ant.  and functions; of which S. Chrysostome doth discourse excellently well in one of his Sermons to the people of Antioch, where among other praises of a Religious course he saith thus: There we may behold the height of Humility; for their dwelling, their apparel, their employments, bear Humility as it were written upon them in Capital letters; and the things which nourish pride, as rich attire, stately buildings, a great train of followers, which puff a man up almost against his will, are far from them; they make their own fires, they cut their wood, they dress their own meat, they wait at board. No man is great among them, no man is little; yet there is no confusion, but order most exactly kept; for if any one of them be little, he that is great, regards not that, but rather esteems himself lower than the least; and thereby becomes greater. And that which S. Chrysostome saith of Humility, may be saved of other Virtues, all of them being in Religion continually practised; which declares not only how beneficial this course of life is, but withal an admirable sweetness of the proceedings thereof, not by precepts alone (which yet are not wanting) but by daily practice, inuring us to Virtue; and by frequent acts and exercise thereof, introducing us to perfection without trouble to ourselves, but with infinite profit.  
4. An other commodity of Religion, common to all Arts and Sciences in their several kinds, 
To excel in Virtue, is much esteemed in Religion, & thereby a great encouragement.  Liberal and Mechanical, is this: that as in the very meanest of them, it is esteemed a rare thing to excel, and to be able to do a thing better than any of the same trade can do it; & such smiths, and carpenters, & other tradesmen are most sought after, as are skilfullest in their occupation; and though the trade in itself be base, yet to be rare in it, is esteemed a great matter: so it falleth out in Religious discipline; and with greater reason, because in itself it is a more noble employment, trading wholly in the pursuit and purchase of Virtue. Those that employ themselves with more earnestness in it, and profit more, are more commended and admitted; as in a race (such as Religion is to perfection) he that maketh greatest speed, hath all the applause, which is no small encouragement to run apace. Secular people find it to be true; for it is one of the greatest rubs they have, that others among them do not approve of their endeavours in Virtue, but they are fain to sail against the wind, meeting oftimes with hard censures, scoffs, & taunts of other men; and our nature is so weak, that it can hardly withstand them, or contemn them. Many for fear of such things are hindered from undertaking that which otherwise they know is good, many after they have begunne a good course, grow weary of it, finding that they must row so much against the stream; and while they ease their arms, they are borne quite down again by the current. Among Religious people it is quite contrary; for (as I began to say) because it is their profession to live virtuously, they that give themselves most unto it, and become rare in it, are most applauded, esteemed, and set by; And so when any of them is employed in any mean office, or servile business, 
2. Reg. 6.20  there is no fear that others will contemn him for it, or laugh at him (as Michol scorned David) but rather the more diligently and cheerfully he goeth about it, the more he is esteemed and loved of al.  
5. S. john Damascen, 
Religious men the more esteemed, the more cheerful they are in humble offices.  a man both noble and wealthy, and one that had borne office with credit in the Commonwealth, became a Monk, and being committed to the instruction of one of the Seniors, the good old man thought it necessary first to ground him well in Humility; to which purpose he put him to do all the inferior offices of the house, to sweep, to scour, to make clean the houses-of-office, and dispatch all other drudgery that was to be done; and moreover, as if nothing which he did were well d●ne, he was continually finding-fault with him and reprehending him; and following this course some months together, brought him to that perfection in Virtue, which ever after showed itself in the holiness of his life. But to our purpose; those household-offices, which in themselves are very mean and base, were notwithstanding so far from bringing the Saint in disgrace with the rest of the Monks, as rather they bred him greater respect; every one admiring and extolling so great contempt of the world and of himself, in a man that in the eyes of the world had been so great. And the good old man that had been so stern unto him, when he saw his time, embraced him with cheerful countenance, & congratulating with him the benefit which he had made of this exercise in so short a time, dismissed him with large commendation from under his charge, as an old soldier, and one that could now menage his arms without a teacher.  
6 And we may give ourselves to these exercises of humility, mortification, and prayer, with such general approbation, as I have saved, not only within the compass of our own walls, but before any secular people. For when they see a Religious man do any humble office, they admire him, and are edified with it; though if they should see any of themselves do the like, they would think it a base thing in him; so much freedom doth Religion give us in the practice of every good thing.  

Masters in Religion, 〈◊〉.  7. And thus far we have spoken of the School itself, and of the Scholars. The Masters of this School are two; the one visible, to wit, our Superior or Prelate, of whom we shall have occasion to speak hereafter; the other i●inuisible, whom we believe only, and understand to be so, and yet he is truly and in a manner our only Master. So Truth itself speaketh: Be not called masters, 
Matth. 23.12.  because one is your master, Christ, who is not wanting in any duty belonging to a diligent & skilful Master. He taketh pa●nes to instruct the ignorant, a ●uanceth▪ those that have profited, and bestoweth greater light upon the perfect; He reprehendeth those that do amiss, he putteth them forward that are backward and remiss, he comforteth those that are heavy and sad, and refresheth and strengtheneth them that are overwearie; finally, (as Thomas a Kempes', 
〈…〉 Christ's. ●. ●.  a good spiritual Author, bringeth him in, speaking of himself) he readeth two lessons every day to his disciples; correcting those that do not follow his directions; and encouraging and heartening them that do follow them, to go forward daily with greater alacrity What then 〈◊〉 Religious man want, having such a Master, and withal such commodity of hearing and practising the percepts which he gives? The only thing which he needs to fear, is that he be not wanting to himself, and neglect his own duty, and this very thing belongs to his master's provident care to prevent, that it may not happen. One man may bestow his labour in teaching an other man, but cannot give his scholar either will or wit to conceive that which he goeth about to teach him; Our Master can easily give both will and power, to make benefit of that which he proposeth.   

The tenth fruit: Plenty of Grace. CHAP. XXII.  
THe way of prositing in Spirit, and advancing ourselves in Virtue, of which I have lately spoken, bringeth great commodity to our ●●ules, yet requireth industry, labour, and pains, and herupon is called a School, in which no man reaps benefit without 〈…〉 and attention. The benefit therefore, of which now I am to ●●●ake, is far greater, in regard that many good things accrue unto us, and are as it were cast into our bosom by the State itself, without any labour or endeavour on our part; all which, though they be many in number and of diverse kinds, we shall comprehend under one general name of Grace. 
What is understood by Grace.  For by the name of Grace we understand all supernatural gifts, working, a luancing, or any way helping to our eternal welfare; among which the chiefest is that heavenly inherent quality, which gives a new life, & as it were a new nature to our soul like unto God: then the habits of Faith, Hope, and others, even moral virtues; finally all inward inspirations of the holy-ghost, enlightening our understanding, or moving and strengthening our will; which two latter kinds of Grace, though they be far inferior, both in worth and efficacy, to that quality which makes our soul grateful to God, and worthy of his love, they have notwithstanding a supernatural force and virtue, whereby they concur and help towards the effecting or increasing of that Divine habit in which (as I have said) the life of our soul doth consist. And seeing all these Graces be so necessary, and so precious, nothing can redound more to the commendation of a State for worth and commodity, 
F●u●e 〈◊〉 of Grace● Religion.  then if we show that it hath many ways to purchase abundance of these Graces; which of a Religious state every one must acknowledge & confess. For if we mark it well, there be in it four Heads, from which this Grace doth flow.  
2. The first is the very natural Constitution of the state itself; for being in the rank of supernatural things one of the highest, it is, as it were, compounded of many graces, and great plenty of them: which a Religious man must needs receive together with the state. For a Religious course, 
Religion wholly compounded of Grace.  and the very resolution of entering into it, containing so many things, as it doth, to wit, the contempt of all earthly things, hatred of riches, of honour, & worldly pomp, the love of continency, and most perfect chastity, the denial of our own will, the practice of humility, a resolution to go through a great deal of hardness and difficulty, to take up our Cross and carry it, finally a perpetual resignation and perfect yealding-up of ourselves, and of our whole life, to an other's dispose, which is no small mastery; A Religious course, I say, being as it were compounded of these and many more such like graces and virtues, when God doth call a man to be Religious, he must withal needs inspire and give him all these things. What therefore can be more worthy or more desireful than this state, wherein so many wholesome and necessary gifts are so easily and liberally cast upon us, as that we need to take no pains at all for any of them, but hold the bosom of our soul wide open to receive and enjoy them▪ And me think it doth somewhat resemble the casting of an image in brass; f●r that is done all wholly at once, arms, & legs, and all other parts together; and there remains nothing to be done to it, but to polish it, or perhaps to supply some little pe●ces here and there, which might remain imperfect which is but a small labour, when the whole bulk is once cast; so when the holy-ghost calls us to Religion, he frameth this his supernatural and exquisite work in us and containing, as I said, all things belonging to a Religious st●te, how ●●keth all in us; so that we have no more to do all our life-time, but only to polish, and perfect, and increase these heavenly gifts, for which the grace of our voca●on d●th als●, give us means and courage, for bringing all these benefits with it, it ever after conserveth them, as a fountain of living water, which always floweth. Wherefore we may truly and justly say, that a Religious soul, is the tree planted by the rivers of water, that is, of this plentiful & mani●old grace, running in that abundance, 
.  that it is like a river which never stays (for it is the river of living water which proceedeth from the seat of God and of the Lamb) but as one stream overtaketh another, so grace followeth after grace without intermission, whereby our soul comes to yield plenty of 〈◊〉 in due season, and a leaf falls not, but all things prosper which it doth.  

2 The presence of God. Matth. 13.  3. An other fountain of this Grace, is that which Truth itself giveth us to understand in these words: Where two or three are gathered together in my name, there I am in the midst of them. For though our Lord God be full of mercy, and richly liberal towards all that call upon him, yet the powers forth his mercies more plentifully upon those, that live & are linked together in one community, 
S john Damascen in 〈◊〉 Josaphat. S. Basil.  by the bond of Charity. S. john Damascen doth acknowledge, that this Divine sentence is properly and truly fulfilled in a Religious course, and that, when our Saviour named two or three, he did not bar a greater number, but by that certain number, understood whatsoever other number though never so great. S. Basil argueth further: I four Lord (saith he) promiseth this where two or three are gathered together, it is much more likely he will do the same, where there shall be a far greater assembly; And concludeth thereupon very truly, that if Christ be with us, we can want nothing; as the israelites in the Desert never wanted any thing, because God was present with them. 
Charity bring the ground of Religious assemblies, is also a 〈◊〉 cause of grace.  Therefore when our Saviour promiseth that he will be in the midst of a Religious Congregation, and always with them, in one word he promiseth all that can be wished, light in darkness, strength in infirmity, comfort in sadness, case in pain, victory combats with the Devil, courage an● constancy of resolution, increase of virtue; finally what good thing can they want that have him in whom all good things are?  
4. But the greatness of this promise will appear the more, if we consider the reason of it. The reason is, because Religious people assemble themselves together, upon no other ground but Charity. It is not nature, nor affinity, nor the fellowship of trade or occupation (as among merchants, & soldiers) which hath drawn them together, but Charity only. Now God himself, as S. john telleth us, 
●. ●●. 4.16  is nothing but Charity; so that, as the same Apostle speaketh, he that remaineth in Charity, remaineth in God, & God in him; and where the link of Charity runneth, there God is betwixt them; so that God is not only present in every company of Religious people, but more inwardly present, than they are near one to another among themselves; as when two stones are laid in mortar together, the mortar must needs be nearer them both, than the stones are one to another. Certainly if this promise of our Saviour extend itself to all Christians, as it doth, who notwithstanding have now in a manner nothing common one with another, but their Faith, & that which followeth of Faith, or belongeth to it; if we believe, that Christ's is in the midst of them, how much more ought we to believe, he is in all Religious Families, where all things are common, spiritual & temporal, their lodging, apparel, diet & exercises, nothing is private and particular? Neither yet did our Lord JESUS make this promise to whatsoever community or meeting, but to such as were gathered in 〈◊〉, as all Religious Orders are, being all of them erected for his service only. But though all be partakers of this unspeakable benefit, this one word doth make me think, 
The prerogative of the Society of JESUS.  that our Society of JESUS (which in all other things is the least and lowest) hath a peculiar right and interest in this Grace, by reason of the Name it beareth, the name, I say, of JESUS, by which it is known among all other Orders, as by the proper mark and devose. And we may the rather hope so, and be confident of it, regard that this name was not taken upon human advice, but by particular instinct of God, and by his will, made known in a Vision to S. Ignatius our Head & Founder, when he was in an Ecstasy at his prayers. The holiness therefore of this Name cannot but be a great comfort to us, that fight as it were under this banner, considering the particular assistance & most certain protection of God, which is promised us in all things. 
Tro. 18 10.  For that which the Wiseman saith, is agreeable to this purpose. The name of our Lord is a most strong tower; the just man runneth to it, and shall be saved  
5. A third cause of abundance of Grace in Religious companies, 
3 Influence from the Community into every particular.  is an influence from the whole community of spirit and inward help to every particular man of the same community. For every Order of Religion is (as it were) one body consisting of so many members and parts, as there be men in it. Every one of these bodies have their spirit, which gives them life and motion; which spirit is partly common and like to the spirit of other Orders, specially in such things as are essential to all Orders, as the three Vows, & all kind of virtues, & partly it is proper & peculiar, as different rites and different offices and employments, which every Order doth practise according to the particular institute it hath. Wherefore as if a man could set a new hand or an arm to a body, in which it was not before, the soul that giveth life and motion to the rest of the body, would give influence into that new member also, and make it live and move; so when any body upon mature advice of his own, and by lawful authority of those, to whom it doth belong, is received into any Religious Order, the spirit, with giveth life and vigour to the whole Order, is derived into this new part thereof, & causeth it to work the same works which the whole Order doth.  
6. David was in company with the Prophets that were foretelling things to come, 
1. Reg. 19.20.  and singing praises to God, when Saul sent certain men to kill him. So soon as they came, the spirit of God was upon them also, and they began to sing and prophesy. Saul hearing thereof, sent the second and the third time o●hers still be●ter provided to execute the mischief that was intended, but it happened to them all alike; for upon their arrival in steed of their wicked fury, they were invested with Prophetical piety. Then the wicked King minding himself to do the deed, ran to the place full of fire and rage; but when he came, he could no more than the others resist the spirit of God, which lighting upon him, did so tame him, that presently casting off his Princely robes, and himself upon the ground, he spent that whole day and the night following continually praising God. An evident argument and most certain proof of the point we have in hand, to wit, how assured and efficacious a means it is to get abundance of grace, to be adopted in those companies, which of themselves are full of grace▪ for if these wicked men, even while they were acting thei● tragedy, could be so suddenly inflamed with Prophetical spirit, being present in body & not in mind, what shall we conceive will be done by th●se that have sorted themselves with such holy company, upon full deliberation, and delivered themselves unto it wholly and entirely, not for a day or two, but for ever. For if grace was given to those that desired it not, but rather withstood it, much more certainly and more abundantly shall they doubtless be replenished, that desire it, and with all their hart endeavour for it.  

All grace's 〈◊〉 upon the ●hole Church, fall chiefly upon Relig●ous people.  7. The fourth reason of abundance of Grace, is because the infinite benefits & gifts which our Saviour Christ hath most bountifully powredforth upon the whole Church, which he purchased with his own most precious blood, are in a manner fallen within compass of the walls of Religion, & upon Religious people alone. For though they be given for all Christians, many scarce make use of them, many not at all; howsoever, Religious people certainly may best enjoy them, and with greatest ease. Among these gifts we reckon the Sacraments of the Church, and chiefly those two which are so full of grace, and so much the more beneficial, because they alone among the rest may be daily used; to wit, the Sacrament of Confession, and of the holy Eucharist, wherein after Confession we feed upon the very Body & Blood of our Saviour; from whence unspeakable joy & happiness is derived to our souls. Now therefore, though this infinite treasure be laid open for all the Faithful to partake of it, yet who seeth not that Religious people do make fair better use of it, & have greater commodity for it? Secular people most commonly are hindered either wholly from receiving these Sacraments, or from receiving them so worthily as the maiedie of them doth require, by the daily cares, and troubles, passions and affection's, to which that course of life is continually subject; the state of Religion being free from secular business and vexation, and wholly composed to the end to taste of God, doth help the subjects thereof in the use of these Sacraments, a● in all other things. The like may be said of all other spiritual riches, & chiefly of holy Scripture, which, as it is profitable for all occasions, & withal most delightful to read & study, so we find by experience, that very few others besides Religious men do employ themselves in the study thereof, with that feeling & that spirit, with which it is fitting so holy a thing should be handled.  

〈…〉 4 〈…〉 C●risti. c. 12.  8. A certain spiritual Author saith truly and well, that as for the life of our body we need meat to refresh it, & light to direct it; so to maintain the life of our soul, ●e must have meat and light. Our meat, is the blessed Body of our Lord; our light, is the Word of God, a lamerne to our ●●et●, as the Prophet speaks. Therefore, as I began to say, though these heavenly gifts be infinitely profitable and necessary, 
●s. 118.  and indifferently proposed to every one; yet they are not known to all, neither will all, that know them, use them; Religious people in a manner do nothing else, and consequently every body must needs con●●●le, that they are in full and perfect possession of all the riches and jewels, which C●ri●t our Saviour hath most bountifully bestowed upon his Spouse the Church, and of whatsoever is therein holy, beneficial, and precious, descended from heaven upon mankind. I might say, that Religious people only have them; because few others have ●he will or leisure to make use of them, 
Gen. 2.  howsoever, it is sufficient th●t Religious people have them in that abund●●e which I have declared. These are the ornaments of a Religious state, 〈…〉 is so much enriched and embellished▪ these we may liken to the fou●e River's 〈◊〉 out of Paradise; for the four fountains of Grace, of which I have discoursed, do flow from the Paradise of Religion, washing ou● souls, t● make them brighter, and watering them that they may become more fruitful.   

The eleventh fruit of Religion: Greater merit by virtue of the State. CHAP. XXIII.  
AS the sun, which gives light unto the earth, hath light within itself, and borroweth it not abroad, as the rest of the stars do from the sun: so God only hath Being and Blessedness of himself; 
All things receive their being & happiness from God.  all other things receive their being and blessedness by his bountiful gift and participation; they receive, I say, life and being, without any cooperation of their own thereunto; for before they were, they could confer nothing to their being; but to the attaining of happiness, God hath ordained, they should concur with their own works, and such works as may have some proportion and congruence with the final End, for which they were made.  
2. The justice of God, which he always regardeth, required this proceeding; and it was also for our honour, that so great a good should not be given us sleeping; but that we should employ our industry and prowess in purchase thereof. This is the reason why we were put into this course of pilgrimage upon earth, and to this end all our life is directed; 
job. c. 7 and c. 14.  whereupon holy job doth fitly term himself, and all us, day-labourers; 
This life is a continual trade and labour.  who have nothing but what they earn day by day, by strength of their arms, and sweat of their brow. Our Saviour in like manner, resembleth all men to Merchants, in the Parable, where the Master of the house distributing his Talents among his servants, speaks thus unto them: Trade 〈◊〉 come; giving us to understand, that this life is no other, 
Luc. 19. 1●.  but a kind of trading or trafficking, not in earthly but in heavenly merchandise. Wherefore as merchants employ their whole industry, and labour, to become rich and wealthy; and therefore do withdraw themselves from all other exercises, as hunting, ●iding, or following the camp; they seek all occasions of gain, let nothing slip, whereby they may hope for any lucre; and esteem all care and labour sweet, so that they thrive by it; much more ought we to do the like in this spiritual trade of ours, the benefit thereof being everlasting. And hence we may gather two things: First, the misery of this world, wherein people live in great barrenness and dearth of all spiritual commodities, their hearts being altogether set upon earthly pelf; secondly, the happiness of a Religious state, wherein we may every moment of time increase our heavenly stock with great ease and facility. 
The misery and foolishness of worldie people  Much might be said of the blindness, and indeed madness, of Secular people, who so unprofitably lavish away this short moment of time (which was given to purchase Eternity) in temporal things subject to corruption; But I will content myself with one place of S. Gregory, who discoursing upon those words of job: 
job. 6.18.  They shall walk in vain, and perish; doth well express their foolishness (for why may I not call them fools, that voluntarily draw upon themselves so infinite a loss?) S. Gregory therefore saith thus: They walk in vain, who carry nothing hence with them of the fruit of their labour; one strives to rise to honour; another employeth his whole endeavour to increase his wealth; a third runs himself out of breath after humane praise; but because every body must leave these things behind him, when he dies, he that hath nothing to carry with him before the judge, spends his labours in vain. The Law adviseth us to the contrary: 
Deu. 16.16.  Thou shalt not appear in my sight, empty. He that goeth not provided of merit of good works to deserve eternal life, appeareth empty in the sight of God; 
Psal. 12 5.6.  but of the Just the Psalmist saith: Coming they shall come with ●y, bearing their bundles. They who show good works within themselves, whereby they may deserve life, come to account in judgement, bearing their bundles. Hence the Psalmist saith again of every one of the Elect: Who hath not received his soul in vain. For he receiveth his soul in vain, 
Psal. 23.4.  who thinking only of things present, minds not those that follow for ever. He receiveth his soul in vain, who neglecting the life thereof, doth prefer the care of the body before it. But the Justice receive not their souls in vain, who with continual attention refer all that they do in their bodies, to the profit of their soul; that when the work is past, the cause of the work may not pass away; which purchaseth the rewards of life after this life.  
3. Among these just men, whom S. Gregory commendeth, Religious people are chiefly to be reckoned; but we are to show that the State itself doth give them great advantage above others in it. 
The two Cheeks of the Spouse. S. Ber. s. 40. in Cant.  Two things therefore are required to merit: the thing which we do, and the end for which we do it. This S. Bernard calleth the two cheeks of the Spouse; he that wanteth either of them, must needs be exceedingly deformed; much more if he want them both. He that handles temporal things for temporal respects, wanteth both; he that doth a spiritual thing, for a temporal end, is deformed in one of them. Now that in which Religious people bestow themselves, is God's own business, wherein it is unspeakable, and in a manner uncredible, what advantage they have of secular people. For there be usually two things in secular people which do lessen their merit, 
Two things under the 〈◊〉 of secular people.  or deprive them wholly of it: First, that they must of necessity busy themselves in earthly and temporal things; as to maintain their children and family, to place their daughters, to furnish all other charges of housekeeping; Secondly, that whatsoever they do, it is for themselves, and for their own private commodity; their thoughts run upon nothing else, but how they and theirs may live in plenty and ease. Now he that taketh pains only for himself and for his own benefit, serveth himself and no body else, and therefore cannot without impudency and injustice demand reward or hire of an other. Hence it cometh, that the works of most men, when they come to be weighed in the balance of equity of God himself, are found faulty, and no● current; the truth whereof was on a time showed in a strange Vision to the great Arsenius, 
T●e Vision of S. Arsenius.  a famous Heremit. First he thought he saw a man very busy in cutting down wood; and when he had bound it up in a bundle, he was taking it upon his shoulders, and could not, it was so big & heavy▪ & to help himself, he still cut down more wood & made his burden bigger and bigger. Again he saw another labouring all day to draw water; and when he had it, he poured it into a vessel without a bottom, & it ran all away. This Vision an Angel interpreted unto him, & said, that the first were they, that heap sin upon sin; the second are they, that do their works for humane ends; by which means the works presently perish, and avail them nothing towards life everlasting. And if there be any (as certainly there be some few in the world) so wise and wary as to direct their actions carefully to God; yet the actions themselves being of their own nature earthly, they must be continually labouring and toiling to raise them, and keep them up from the earth, which endeavour of their● being somewhat violent, cannot last long, and so they quickly shrink downwards to the earth again, 
Religious men, God's household servants.  as their nature draws them. It happeneth quite otherwise with Religious people; for first forsaking their own house and goods, they are taken into the house of God and his Family; and consequently whatsoever business they have there, it is properly God's; and so long as they are employed in it, they labour for God, and not for themselves, so that if we compare the state of a Secular man, that lives well and upright, with the state of a man that lives in Religion, there is this difference betwixt them, that the one serveth as a friend, the other as a servant; a friend by entreaty or of his own accord, may do his friend some service, but yet he is to live of himself, and must provide for his own occasions; a servant that dwelleth with his master, all that he doth, must be for his master's service: so when a Religious man hath left all that he had, and put himself into the service of God, he must of force, and in a manner whether he will or no, attend God almighty's business, and day and night wait upon him; and he can do no other, because he hath withdrawn himself from his own private affairs; not only in will and purpose, but by distance of place, and absence from the things themselves.  
4. Moreover, 
Three sort of employments of Religious people, and all spiritual.  that which we handle in Religion is not properly earthly, but for the most part Spiritual, or mingled with some Spiritual thing. For all that a Religious man doth, may be reduced to three heads: First are the actions which are immediately directed to God, as Prayer, Contemplation, the use of the Sacraments, the practice of the virtues of Humility, Charity, Penance, internal by contrition of hart, and external by punishing the body; in which actions a Religious man spends the greater part of his life, and no body can make any doubt, but they tend directly of their own nature, without any labour of ours, to God, and deserve a reward at his hands. There be other works that are external, yet proceed from the very bowels of Religion; as to preach, to hear Confessions, to encourage others to devotion, to give good advice to those that ask it, and oftimes to those that do not ask it, 
2. Tim 4 2.  as the Apostle wisheth, opportunity and importunely, finally whatsoever is done for the spiritual help of our Neighbour; to which we may add the employments which are as it were preparations to the former, to wit, to study privately, or in public School, to dispute, to write; that thereby they may benefit themselves or others, and such like. These things though they be not so immediately set upon God, as the former yet of their own nature they tend to the same end; and consequently, unless they be wrested and corrupted by a different end and intention from without, they are of themselves good and grateful to God; so that there is great difference betwixt the employments of a Secular and a Religious man; because these be of their own nature Spiritual and meritorious, unless they be marred by some extrinsical accident; Secular people's business is of itself earthly and temporal, and always cleaves to the earth, and dies with it, unless it be raised by some other means. And who is so strong and able, amidst so much weakness as is in a Secular life, as to stand perpetual Sentinel watching over his works, and always to keep his bow at that full bent, that his arrows (his actions I mean) may fly aloft.  

Natural ●●tions 〈…〉.  5. The third kind of works be those that are merely natural, as to eat and drink, to sleep, to tend ourselves when we are sick or that we may not fall into sickness, to provide necessaries for diet and apparel; wherein is much business, and many occurrences; these things of themselves, if we go no higher, are nothing; but may be easily so handled by a Religious man, as they will be of great worth, and beauty, and desert in the sight of God. For, having given them their body together with their soul, all the service and care they bestow upon it as such is pleasing to God, and shall not fail of a reward. The matter therefore resteth in the intention, which is the other cheek of the Spouse, as I said out of S. Bernard; wherein it is so apparently easy for a Religious man to walk uprightly, and please our Lord God, that I shall not need to spend many words in declaring it. For Secular people, though they have many times no i'll intention in their actions, yet most commonly their intention is earthly and temporal, aiming at the maintenance or setting-up of their House and Family. But what should a Religious man have any such thing in his head? Though sometimes that which he handleth be temporal, yet his end is spiritual, not ordained to his own private interest, but to the common benefit of his Brethren; which also is wholly directed to the honour and glory of God.  

Ber s. le 〈◊〉.  6. S. Bernard delivereth this doctrine eloquently, and excellently to the purpose, comparing Secular people with Religious, and saith, that the labour and pains which Secular people take, is twofold; to wit, partly peremptory, as he termeth it, because labouring in sinful actions, it brings everlasting death with it; and partly, though not peremptory, yet perishable; because though they keep themselves from sins, they are tossed with many cares, and embroiled in much business, though not in much offence, toiling themselves in the figure of this world which passeth away, to maintain themselves and those that depend upon them; which toil though it work not damnation, yet it worketh not salvation neither; so that though they keep the foundation, yet they shall suffer detriment by the loss of that which they have builded upon it, and themselves be saved, yet so a● by fire. But hearken what is said to us: 
.  Work not the food which perisheth, but which remaineth to life everlasting. Neither do we leave working this food, though we be sometimes employed in earthly occupation by obedience, or out of fraternal charity, because our intention is different from theirs, whose labour shall perish; the selfsame labour, growing from a far different root, shall not perish alike, because it is grounded upon that Charity which never perisheth.  
7. This, which S. Bernard saith, 
S. Anselm.  agreeth with the Similitude which S. Anselm bringeth, in which kind of expression he is held to be rare; thus we read of him in his life. A certain Religious man coming unto him for advise, and making his complaint, that he was employed by his Superiors in temporal businesses, having betaken himself to Religion of purpose to avoid them; he made him answer and encouraged him in this manner: 
The life of 〈◊〉 li●e a mil.  The life of man is like a mil, which is ever moved and never resteth; but there is great difference among the men that tend it; some look not after their meal, and it all runs down into the river, and is utterly lost; others save part of it, and part they lose through negligence; others put their sacks underneath, and save it al. The first kind are those Secular people, who never think of any eternal thing, but their thoughts are wholly buried in earth and earthly things; The second kind is of those, who living in the world do some good works; they give alms, they go to church duly, they visit the sick; these shall receive a reward according to the measure of their works; The last kind, are Religious people, who being employed by their Superiors upon obedience, lose not their labour, though the business be temporal, which they are set about, yea though by occasion of their business, they be forced sometimes to do something otherwise then Religious discipline requires, or to slack in somewhat which is commonly observed by others, the virtue of Obedience recompenseth all, and g●there●h-vp the meal so clean, and layeth it up so safe, that it sufficeth to maintain them for all eternity.  
8. Finally we shall do well to consider and bear in mind that which S. Bonaventure writeth touching this matter, 
S. Bonaventure 2 〈◊〉 d. 41 a. 1. q 3.  and the rather because the doctrine is his, who was so profound a Divine, and is derived by him out of the very principles of Divinity. His discourse is this: For a man to merit, it is not required that all his works be actually referred to God, 
What intention i● required, th●t our 〈…〉 be 〈…〉.  but it is enough, that they have an habitual rela●ion to him. This habitual relation ariseth not by reason a soul is in Charity; that is not enough; but because this particular work in the beginning thereof, or in the beginning of some other work, from which this doth flow, wa● duly offered and dedicated to God; as for example: If a man purpose to give in al●e, for God's sake a hundred pieces of silver; though he do not think of God afterwards when he distributeth them severally one by one, it doth not follow, that those pieces of silver are not profitably and virtuously bestowed▪ as it would follow, if he should begin any other new work● of an other kind; for than he must have a new purpose to do that work for the service of God. Whence this holy Doctor doth in●erre, that the same must hold in all the actions of Religious people, who at their first entrance into Religion, being resolved to goe-through with the bur●hen thereof, whatsoever afterwards they do, that is contained within the bounds of their observances, is meritorious, by the force and efficacy of the first will and purpose which they had, unless that purpose be contradicted by some contrary resolu●ion; which no man, that hath any care of his soul, will do. This is S. B●nauenture'● discourse almost word for word; concluding thereupon that it is infinitely profitable, and withal most secure, to live a Religious life.  
9 But as touching merit, whereof we now treat, we may a●de one thing farther; that it doth not reach only to the works which before I mentioned, but to our very passion● and inward affections, though they be in a manner but natural. For in truth when Religious people leave all that they have, and become, 
〈…〉 Passions.  as I have said, of the house and household of God, they are so wholly at God's service, th●t whatsoever business God hath, they account it theirs; and whats●euer business they have, God accounts it his; and whatsoever is profitable and convenient for one, is profitable and convenient for the other; so that when they rejoice, or are sad for their own occasions, or desire, or fear any thing concerning them, God esteeming their occasions his, their fear and desire, sadness and joy, proceeding from such a root, is meritorious; and yet our life is in a manner spent in these affections; so that if we ground ourselves upon reason, and castup our accounts duly, as merchants do, we shall f●●d at evening, that in one days reckoning the actions of a Religious man will a●ise to an infinite sum of merit; and if one day be so full of merit, what will it arise unto in a month, or a year, which hath so many days, and so much profit every day? And if a man continue in Religion many years, what mass of merit must he needs heap to himself by so much industry, and so many virtuous actions so often repeated?  
10. This therefore being very true, and grounded in the principles of our Faith, certainly the course which increaseth a man's crown and reward so much, and his labour so little & in short time raiseth him to so great wealth, and loadeth him with those treasures, 
Mat. 6.19  which neither rust nor moth do demolish, nor ●●eeues d●-vp and steal away, must needs be of high esteem and worth; which will be more apparent, if we compare the happiness which Religious people have he●rin, with the misery of Secular people that love this world. For though they m●yle themselves never so much, and put themselves to a great deal of trouble and incommodity for the world, the fruit of all this labour perisheth here in earth; because when they must leave the world, their works do not follow them; and they shall be forced, with the slothful man in the Proverbs, 
Prou. 20 4.  that would not till his ground, to beg in summer, when others feed upon the labours of their hands.  
11. S. Bernard reprehends this ●ollie of Secular people, and accounts them little better than ●●asts, thinking only of the present, and taking no thought for what is to come, as if they ●ad neither reason nor understanding, but sense only as beasts. 
S Bernard ●p. 1ST.  For writing to Gualterus, who was a young man of a good wit, and well grounded in matter of learning, he doth urge him very much upon this very point, to leave the world, and enter into Religion, being sorry he should waste so great talents in so unprofitable a course, as he calleth it; and with such rare gifts, not serve the Author of them, but spend them in transitory things. To which purpose he goeth-on in this manner: Look what you will answer at the terrible tribunal-seate of God, for receiving your soul in vain, and such a soul as yours is, if so be, you be found to have done no more with your immortal and reasonable spirit and soul, than a beast doth with his; the spirit of a beast living no longer than it giveth life to the body, and at the same moment of time, in which it ceaseth to give life, it ceaseth also to live, and be. What can you imagine that you may worthily deserve, if being made as you are, to the image of your Maker, you maintain not the dignity of so great a Majesty within yourself; but being a man placed in honour, do sort yourself with beasts, and become like to them, spending your endeavours in no spiritual and eternal things, but contenting yourself with corporal and temporal goods, as the spirit of a beast, which as it receiveth beginning from the body, so it endeth with it ' Your ear is deaf to that Euangelical counsel: 
Io. 6.27.  Work not the food, which perisheth, but which remaineth to life everlasting. But it is written, that none ascendeth to the mountain of our Lord, but he that hath not received his soul in vain; nor he neither, unless he be harmless of his hands, 
Ps. 23.3.  and clean of h●r●. Consider therefore what iniquity may deserve, if unprofitableness alone be sufficient to damn a man: certainly the thorn and the bramble cannot think themselves safe, when the axe shall lie at the foot of the unfruitful tree. He that threateneth the barren tree, will not spare the bu●h that pricketh; woe therefore is to him, & woe again, of whom it shall be said: 
Esay. 5.4.  I have tarried that it should bring sweet grapes, and it hath brought forth w●ld. Thus spoke S. Bernard; whose sharp censure may in reason terrify all Secular people, in regard of the danger and the shame, that in works they become not beasts; and greatly encourage all Religious, and confirm them in their holy purpose and resolution.   

The twelfth fruit of Religion: Direction of Superiors. CHAP. XXIV.  
IT followeth that we speak of another great commodity which is in Religion, arising from the care and government of spiritual Superiors; a benefit containing many great benefits in it. And first we must consider, that the way of virtue being full of darkness and obscurity, nothing can be more needful than a good guide and light, 
A guide & director needful in all things.  that we stray not out of it. For if neither the Law, nor Philosophy, nor so much as any one handicraft or Mechanical art can be learned without a teacher, though they be but natural sciences, invented and perfected by men, out of their natural capacity and understanding of them; in this holy exercise, which is above nature, and continually most stiffly opposed by many enemies, we must needs lie open to infinite errors, unless we take a guide to conduct us, and we shall never be able otherwise to goe-through with it. 
S Hierome ●p 4.  To which purpose S. Hierome speaketh home, saying: No art is learned without a master. Brute beasts and wild herds follow their guide; among bees there is a chief; crane's follow one, as letters in a row; there is one Sovereign, one judge in a country; One Bishop in a Church, one Archpriest; and the whole order of the Church dependeth of the Rectours thereof; one Admiral at sea; one master in a house; and in a great army, one man must give the sign of the battle; and that I may not be tedious in reckoning-up every thing, my intent is this, to show thee by these examples, that thou must not be left to thine own dispose, but live in a Monastery under the care of one Father, and in come 〈…〉.  
2. S. Gregor●e Ny●s●n discourseth thus: Though there be many things written for direction of a spiritual life, 
S Gr●g●rie 〈…〉 Virg c 23.  yet written precepts move not so much by far●e, as those that are delivered by word of mouth and example; both which in Religion are frequent, it being as he termeth it) the shop of virtue, in which this spiritual life, of which we treat, is scoured from all dross and endure, and brought to great perfection of innocence. And as a man, that desires to learn a strange language, shall never come to ●nie perfection in it, unless he learn of those that are skilful in the tongue; so saith he, we shall never compass the intent of this life, unless we take a guide, but run great ha●a●d in attempting at our own peril the trial of things unknown vn●o us. ●or as Physic was first invented by long practice of some particular men, and yet now it were an absurd & foolish thing to go to try the force and quality of all medicines first, before we resolve to make use of any of them; for we ought rather trust upon those, that are already known and approved by others; so he that will follow his own head in the study of virtue, must needs run into many errors and inconveniences; on the other side, if we follow the a●u●●e and counsel of others, and receive light from them, we shall find much ease; as we see by one lamp, we light many; for in like manner gravity and sanctity i● derived from one to many, that are in will and practise linked to that one. Thus far S. Gregory Nyssen.  

〈◊〉 gr●●. 25.  3. 〈◊〉 is bold to say, that as a ship, that hath a skilful pilot, is easily brought safe into the haven; so a soul that hath made choice of a good Past●ur, will easily reach the haven of heavenly glory, though of itself it be rude and ignorant, or also over-laden with sin and evil custom; And contrariwise, saith he, as one that traveleth without a guide, doth often miss his way, though he may be in other respects a wise man; so he that will needs follow his own will and judgement in this spiritual way, though he have alone all the wisdom that ever was, will easily notwithstanding bring his soul to utter destruction.  

S. by'r ● ●. in Cant.  4. S. Bernard, a man expert in spiritual things, saith thus: How many have been found to have strayed most dangerously from the right path, by means ●h●t they have been ignorant of the wiles of the Devil & of his tricks? Hence they that began with spirit, have ended with flesh, most shamefully lead away, and fallen most damnably. He that is loath to give his hand to his director, doth give it to hi● seductour, and he that leaveth sheep a● pasture without a watch, is Pastor not of sheep, but of wolves. Wherefore if the danger of them that will be their own guides, be so evidently great; the security of a Religious course must needs be as great, in regard we have so many to give us light in darkness, and to instruct our ignorance with most wholesome, recepts.  

 5. An● the great commodity, which we reap by direction of Superiors, invict ri●●●●● the temptations and molestations of the Devil. For whereas sometimes 〈◊〉 assault us openly, sometimes they steal closely upon us, and seek to undermine us, and we need great strength and courage to resist the 〈◊〉, and wisdom and art to overcome the latter; t●e assistance and conduct of Superiors furnisheth us abundantly with both these weapons. This benefit Cassian doth often speak of, 
Cassian. Co●l. 6. c. 12.  and often inculcate it; but particularly in a certain Exhortation, where he bringeth Abbot joseph speaking thus: Sa●an transfigureth himself into an Angel of light, to the end he may fraudulently thrust upon us the dark and foggy mist of sense, in steed of the true light of knowledge; which suggestions of his, unless falling into a meek and humble hart they be reserved for the discussion of some sober-harted Brother, or approved Sen●●ur, and being by their discretion diligently sifted, be either rejected, or entertained by us, without all doubt we shall be brought to a most mischievous end, worshipping in our thoughts the Angel of darkness, in sleed of the Angel of light; which mischief it is impossible for any man to avoid, that trusteth to his own judgement.  
6. And this, which Cassian saith, is generally delivered by all Authors that treat of spiritual matters; wherefore it is most certain that there is no better defence against the continual, hot, & dangerous impugnations of the Devil, then to choose some body, who may be unto us a Father and a governor, to whose bosom we may betake ourselves, and under whose sewing we may find protection, like chickens under a hen, when the kite hovereth over them▪ daily experience teaching us, that diverse most grievous temptations, which could not be put out of our minds by any industry or pains which we took, have been overcome, and utterly blotted out by communication once had with a Superior. And (that which doth more highly commend the efficacy of this medicine it is not their counsel or exhortation only, which freith us, but most commonly the very revealing of the disease unto them, & laying it before their eyes; a far better and more caseful cure, than any corporal medicine can bring to our body; where when we have opened our grief to the Physician, much labour & art is required before we can be cured; 
Cassian. Co●l. 1. c. 16.  but in the diseases of the mind, it is a constant course, as Cassian saith in an other place, that evil thoughts die so soon as they are laid open; and before remedy be applied to the disease, the wicked serpent runneth away full of confusion and shame, as it were drawn out of his dark den under ground, into the open air, by virtue of Confession. And he confirmeth it by a memorable example of the Abbot Serapion; 
Serapion deliuere● from the temptation of gluttony by opening it to his Superiors.  who, he saith, was wont to tell of himself, that when he was a young man, yielding to gluttonous intemperance, he had got a custom to eat a loaf of bread privately in a corner; and often bewailing, and yet daily falling into the same offence, at last being touched with remorse of conference, he stepped out into the middle of the room where diu●rs of the ancient Fathers were met, and before them all confessed this his fault. His master, being a discreet spiritual man, presently bade him be of good courage, because by this resolute confession he had evidently given his adversaria the foil, who before had the better of him by means of his silence. These words were scarce spoken, when behold as it were a flame of brimstone issued out of the young man's bosom, where he was wont to hide the l●af, & fil●ed the room with such a stench, that a body could hardly abide in it, every one understanding thereby, that the Devil was beaten out of the field, and Ser●●●●n did afterwards often a●●re, that from that very moment he never felt in all his life-time the least touch of any such itching desire.  
7. And thus much of temptations, the overcoming whereof is a main point of our salvation. 
Direction necessity at all times.  But it is not the time of temptation only wherein we stand in need of help from Superiors, but all other times; for we carry always about us the common infirmity of mankind, in which we were conceived and borne; & it followeth us till our dying-day, when this corruptible body shall be clad with incorruption. Through this weakness so inclinable to evil, we often fail, even before we can well think of it. Oftentimes a kind of lazines creeps upon us, and so benumbs us, that we have no list in a manner but to sleep; wherefore it doth much import us to have such Remembrancers and counsellors as know us to a hair, and will without flattery show us what we are, and sometimes with wholesome counsel, sometimes also with reprehension, put life into us; they that have not this help, must needs fall into many errors, through want of knowledge of themselves, and of the things ●hey go about. 
S Basil. 〈◊〉 Monast. c. 21.  S Basil speaking of the commodity which Religion affordeth in this kind, saith: It is most certain that it is one of the hardest things that can be, to know, and cure onesself, because naturally every one doth ●oue himself, and in regard he is apt to favour himself, he easily mistakes the truth: but it is easy to be known and cured by another, because self-love doth not hinder him, that is to cure another, from discovering the truth. From whence S. Basil infers, that Superiors in Religion may easily fin●-out the humours and dispositions of every body, and apply convenient remedies to every one.  
8. And let no man think, that beginners only, and such as are imperfect and slack in the love of God, 
Direction necessary for those th●● are perfect.  stand in need of government; for it is equally necessary for those that are fervent and perfect; unless a body will think, that a ship at sea needs a Pilot only in rough weather, and not when it sails with a prosperous gale; rather prosperous winds, if they be strong, are the more dangerous; it may meet with rocks and shelves: and though it do not, the gale itself may be so strong, as to sink it; beside there must be some body to rule the stern; otherwise the ship may store hither & thither upon the main, and never come to haven. And as a horse is in greatest danger of taking harm, when he runs his heats, unless he have one that knows how to ride him: so these spiritual fervours are of their own nature headlong and rash, and breed many inconveniences, if they be not tempered by the judgement and discretion of others. S. Bernard thinks that the Apostle did harp upon this point, 
Rom. 12 1.  when he required, that our service should he reasonable; because zeal is easily carried away by the spirit of error, if we take not with us the light of knowledge. 
S Bernard 〈…〉  Neither hath our subtle Enemy a more forcible engine to list Charity out of our hart, then if he can make us walk undiscreetly in it, and not according to reason. 
S. Hierome.  S. Heirome also findeth the same commodity in a Religious vocation; for thus he writeth to Rusticus: I like well, that thou live in company with holy men, and be not thine own teacher, nor travel in a way without a guide, where thou never went'st before▪ lest coming to a turning, thou go astray, or go farther, or not so far as thou needest, or run till thou be weary, or lag till thou fall asleep.  
9 Finally in all this business that which most importeth, is, that this is the course which God doth perpetually and constantly hold with al. For it is in his power, 
Direction the usual means by which God doth govern us.  for to give us light immediately by himself, or by his holy Angels; but he hath ordained, that men should be taught and instructed by other men, either because he would link them the faster together in the bonds of Charity, as members of the same body, or exercise them in humility, by subjection to one an other. Cassian to this purpose bringeth the example of Samuel, whom God would not instruct by himself, when he was young, 
Cassian. Coll. 2 ●. 14.  but suffered him to have recourse the second time to old H●li; and intending to bring him to the speech with himself, made him notwithstanding take instructions from another; who though elder in years, was inferior unto him in sanctity. When the Angel appeared to C●rnel●us the Centurion, could he not all under one have revealed to him all the mysteries of our Faith? an easier and a shorter way for them both; yet he sends him to Peter, 
Act. 10.6.  saying: Ca● for Simon; he shall tell thee, what thou oughtest to do. That which we read in the same Acts of S. Paul, is yet more strange. For Christ our Lord having done him so much honour, as not to send an Angel to invite him, but himself in person to speak unto him from heaven, and vouchsafed him his presence, when he was yet a blasphemer and a persecutor, though he could in a moment of time have endued him with all heavenly knowledge from above, yet he sent him to Ananias almost with the same arrant which Cornelius had before: 
Act 9.7.  Rise, and go into the City, and it shall be told thee, what thou oughtest to do. Which S. Bernard doth wonderfully admire; and speaking to Religious people he saith, 
S Bernard s. de Conu. S. Paul.  that Religion is the city to which they are sent. Thus he speaketh: O wisdom, in very deed disposing all things sweetly! Thou sendest the man, to whom thyself dost speak, to be taught thy will by an other man, to commend the benefit of a sociable life, and that being taught by man, he may learn to help other men, according to the grace which he hath received. Go into the City; You see, my Brethren, that it was not without the providence of God, that you entered this City of the Lord of Virtues, 
S. Aug. Prolo. de Doctr. Christian.  therein to le●rne the will of God. S. Augustin writeth to the same purpose, and bringeth the same examples of Cornelius, & S. Paul; adding farther in these words: All might have been performed by the Ange●, but the nature of man would have seemed to have been neglected, if God had not chosen man to minister his word to other men. Besides, Charity, which bindeth men together in the bonds of love, would not have that means of unity and conjunction of minds, if men did not learn of other men. From all which examples and reasons we must necessarily conclude, that no man is so wise, as he may safely rely upon his own wisdom; no man so holy, as it may be thought, that God will illuminate him by himself, but by other men; the sweetness of the D●uine providence requiring it, 
Luc. 12 42. The fatherly love of Superiors towards their subjects.  as I have touched in an other place; and farther, that either we must not give ourselves to the study of virtue (which is notwithstanding so necessary for all) nor bestow our time and care in spiritual exercises, or we must take some Master and governor to direct us therein, whereof Religion affordeth best commodity, by means of those whom God hath placed over his Family, to give them measure of ●orne in due seas●n; in regard they do not only point us out the way with their singer, but they walk along with us, and lead us on our way, and sometimes carry us, yea they often carry us on by comfort, counsel, admonition, & exhortation: persuading themselves, as the truth is, that they have not vassals to govern, but their fellow-servants and brethren, and that all are the sons of God, committed to their charge and trust by God himself, and consequently that they owe them not only love, but honour and service; insomuch that no nurse can be more careful of her nursling, nor no mother of her only child, than they are of those whom God hath commended unto them with so much love and affection, continually instructing, and teaching, and directing them, how they may rid themselves of sin and imperfection, purchase virtue, and withstand all the assaults of the Devil; they lead them along by the hand, they carry them in their arms through all their exercises, and bring them up by little and little to all perfection, safely, without danger of erring, and in a most sweet and easy manner.  

God di●●●●●th us 〈◊〉, Supe 〈◊〉 even 〈…〉 and 〈…〉.  10 The last commodity in this kind, i●, that besides the exercises of virtue and perfection, all other occurrences of our life and actions are likewise guided by direction of Superiors, or rather by God in them. Many doubtful passages certainly do happen in this life, as when there is question, where we shall fix our dwelling, what we shall take to do, in what kind of business we shall employ our time, and after what manner; in these things we meet with many difficulties, and are subject to many errors; Howsoever, can we desire it should be better with us then if God be our guide in them? for so long as he guides us, we cannot go amiss. Now I have proved before, that whatsoever our Superiors ordain of us, is the will and appointment of God himself, so long as they order not any thing expressly contrary to his Divine Law, which God forbid they should. For what skilleth it, saith S. Bernard, whether God declare his pleasure unto us by himself, 
● Bernard de prae. C ●. p.  or by his ministers, either men or Angels? You will say, that men may be easily mistaken in many doubtful occurrences, concerning the will of God. But what is that to thee, that art not guilty thereof? specially the Scripture teaching thee, that the lips of the Priest keep knowledge, and they shall require the law from his mouth, because he is the Angel of the Lord of hosts. 
Ba●a●h. 2.  Finally whom should we ask what God determines of us, but him to whom the dispensation of the Mysteries of God is committed? Therefore we must hear him as God, whom we have in place of God, in all such things, as are not apparently contrary to God. Thus saith S. Bernard. Wherefore, if it be profit and commodity which we seek, what can be more profitable or commodious in this life, then to have God for governor of all our actions, and be ruled, not by our own judgement, but by his wisdom, and succoured by his aid and assistance?   

The thirteenth fruit: written Rules▪ CHAP. XXV.  
NExt to the lively voice of Superiors, is the written word of the Rules, as it were the bones and sinews of Religion, without which it is impossible it should subsist; and as by the counsel & direction of Superiors we reap all the commodities, of which I have lately spoken, so by the Rules we receive no less benefit. First, by that general reason, which, as Aristotle writeth, is found in every Law; to wit, that they are without passion and particular affections, 
Aristotle. 1. Pol. 11.  and speak to all alike, never varying from themselves, neither for love nor hatred. Whereupon he concludeth, that where the Law takes place, 
Where La● takes place, God governed.  there God doth govern, who is neither subject to passion, nor ever changed. Besides, the Rules have somewhat more than Superiors and governors; because all governors must follow the intention of the Law, and rule themselves by it, to govern well. Wherefore the same Philosopher saith, that a good Commonwealth ought to be so ordered, that the Law be still in force, & govern in a manner alone by itself; & that the Prince and Magistrates are only ministers and guardians of the Law; yet so, as they have power and authority to interpret and supply the Law, if in that general fashion of speech, which it useth, there be any thing wanting or doubtful; which form of best government doth most certainly flourish in Religion.  
2. Moreover, 
The commendation of Rule & Law.  in setting down laws, people take more deliberation and advice, then when they deliver a thing by word of mouth; and the Law itself speaks not to one man alone, nor rests upon one man's approbation, but speaks to the whole community, and is received by them all; and consequently it carries great authority with it, & people bear it great reverence; because no man is so impudent, as to prefer his own private opinion before the judgement of so many others.  
3. Again, Law doth in a manner compel us to live uprightly, which is an other great benefit of it; 
Aristotle 10. E●h. 〈◊〉.  so that that, which Aristotle writeth of laws in another place, is very true, that Law is so necessary, that men cannot live honestly and uprightly without it. His reason is this, because Virtue (saith he) is hard and difficult, neither groweth it with us, nor is inbred in our nature, but must be purchased by labour and industry, and with the sweat of our browe●; and therefore, because men for the most part are loath to take pains, and care not for the profit that must cost them so dear, we must have something that m●y egg us forwards, and in a manner constrained us, which constraint is pu● upon us by Law; and yet we have this solace by it, that whereas we began to live orderly upon a kind of necessity, custom & practice and a kind of taste of the sweetness, which is in Virtue, doth make us love it, and ever after voluntarily to embrace it.  
4. Plato doth jump in opinion with Aristotle, 
Pl●to. 〈…〉  affirming that there must of necessity be laws among men, that they may live according to law; because no man by the strength of his own wit, can know sufficiently, what is fitting in all respects for men, or i● he come to know and conceive it, he hath not po 〈…〉 w●●, always to put it in execution. Wherefore no man can doubt ●ut Religion is the most wholesome course a man can take, and the m●st 〈◊〉 to advance us in spirit, in regard it put; a kind of necessity vp●n 〈◊〉 to ●ine well, and in time makes this necessity voluntary; whereof S. Hierome writeth to Ru●ticus in these words: 
● Hi●rom. ●p 4  When thou art in the Monastery, th●u wilt not be permitted to do this, but growing to a custom, by little and little th●u wilt begin to love that, to which at first thou were compelled, and thy pains will be delightful to thee, and forgetting that which is past, thou wi●t search after that which is before thee.  
5. Two things therefore are performed by the Rules & Institute of Religion: They teach us what we ought to do, and how we are to order our life; and they require performance of what they teach. For they carry such an authority, or rather majesty, with them, that they tha● are subject unto them, cannot but obey them, nor go a hair's breadth from them; & they are wri●ten in that particular manner, that they give us direction in all things, inward & outward, concerning our body and our soul, for private and public occasions, at home 〈◊〉 abroad; and may be likened to the Aphorisin●●, which Physicians write for preservation of health; or as if a man in a long journey, when the ways are hard to hit, should carry a map with him, or are ●iste● of the place●, by which he is to travel. For as such Aphorisme● do help ●s for our health, and such a register or map would help us upon our journey, the one to prevent sickness, the other that we go not out of our way: So it is incredible how much this method and rule which we find in Religion, doth preserve us f●om falling into far greater errors and sickness; 
O●● Rule a 〈◊〉 gla●se.  beholding in it, as in a lookingglass, how we are to order and compose ourselves, and what we are to put off and avoid, and what again to make choice of and embrace so that if we truly love our own benefit, we shall never need to ●e●re, lest we be overcharged with too many rules. To which purpose there is a witty saying reported of Sol●n, 
Sol●n.  who was one of the Seven wise men. While he was m●king laws for the people of Athens, Anacharsi● a Philosopher and friend of his came in, and finding what he was writing, laughed at him, saying, that laws were like cobwebs, which take little flies, but are easily b●●●en by the bigger sort of vermin. Solon answered, that as bargains and covenants are best kept, when they are beneficial for both parties, because neither part desires they should be void; so he was making such laws, as were better for every body to keep them, then to b●eake them. Which is far truer in the Rules and orders of holy Religion; for they aim at nothing but the everlasting good of all, and of every particular; and consequently every one must needs love and tender them, as much as he loves and tenders his own eternal welfare; 
 specially seeing not only the greater Rules, and such as concern the whole community, or the essence and substance of Religion, are thus profitable, but the lesser also, if any of them can be called little, conducing so much as they do to eternal salvation, yet 〈◊〉 which in a vulgar eye are esteemed little, have no final profit in them. For as a man may perhaps think, that so many leaves are not 〈◊〉 in a vine, or other tree that bears fruit, & yet they are very needful, either in regard they are an ornament to the tree, or rather because they do much preserve the fruit thereof: so in this abundance of spiritual fruits, by which our soul's health is maintained, there be many little things in show, & yet our soul is preserved by them, and brought to perfection.  
6. But the chief benefit which we reap by our Rules, 
Rule, the written will of God.  is that which I said before belonged also to the direction of Superiors, to wit, that they are the very will and direction of God. And to the end no man may doubt thereof, you must understand, that this property is not peculiar to the Rules of Religion, but extends itself to all profane laws, enacted by Prince or People, 
S. Thomas. 12. q ●3 a. 3.  so they be just and reasonable. So all Divines, and particularly S. Thomas, the head of Divines, doth deliver; to wit, that every law, so it be (as I said) just and reasonable, is nothing else but a branch, or parcel of the Eternal Law, which is in God; and this two manner of ways: by participation of power and authority, from which all laws must proceed; whereof S Paul speaketh when he saith: 
Rome 13.  All power is from God; Secondly, by reason that whatsoever is ordained by a lawful Superior, consorteth with that which from all eternity was decreed in the intent of God. For it is certain, that God doth govern all things, and direct them every one to their several ends; & moreover that he hath in his mind & intention a certain comprehension, how he means to govern them, & consequently must needs communicate this his intention with whom he doth employ as ministers to execute his government, so much as is necessary for every one; to the end, that by their decrees & commands, his will also & decrees, which lay hid in his mind & intention, may be made known and manifest. This is common to all Lawmakers, but hath force chiefly in Religion, because all things are well ordered in it; neither is there any reason, why it should be otherwise, in regard neither wealth, nor rich preferments, nor any thing else doth provoke ambition, which in Commonwealths is wont to be the corruption of the laws.  
7. These be grounds of reason for this point; 
God the Author of 〈◊〉 Reli●●●●. Inst●●●●● S● Pacho●●us.  but God moreover hath oft declared by miracle, that he is the author of every Religious Institute; as when we read, that an Angel brought the whole Rule ready written to S. Pacho●●us, as it was to be observed by him & his Brethren; wherein every particular thing was expressed, what apparel they should wear, what offices there should be among them, how they should govern themselves in their diet and lodging.  
8. That which we read of S. Francis, 
S. Franci●.  is nearer our times, whom God did encourage to frame his Rule by this Vision. He seemed to see himself & his Brethren in great distress for want of sustenance; & that he had nothing to refresh them withal, but a great many crumbs of bread, which, in regard they were very small, he feared would moulter away betwixt his fingers, while he were distributing them. 
The 〈…〉  B●ing in this thought, he heard a voice bidding him make one host or wa●er of all those crumbs together; & reaching it to his Brethren, he perceived, that they that did refuse & contemn it, were presently covered with an ugly leprosy. The next night one declared unto him wh●t thi● Vision meant, to wit, that the crumbs were the Euamgelical Counsels; the host the Rule he was abou● the leprosy, malice. Afterwards retiring himself, a● an other M●y●s, for 40. days, to a certain mount, to draw this Rule, diverse of his Order coming unto him made their complaint, that they feared his Rule would be too strict; and behold a voice from heaven spoke thrice in this manner: Francis, nothing is thine in this Rule; it is wholly mine; and it is my will to have it entirely kept, as the letter soundeth; I know what men are able to bear, and what help and assistance intent to bestow upon them. Finally having finished his Rule, he brought it to the Pope, where again there was much difficulty made, touching that new kind of rigid and strict poverty; but S. Francis still most constantly and religiously affirmed, that there was not in it one word of his own, but every thing as Christ our Lord himself had indicted and delivered it.  
9 And it is reason to think, that as S. Francis penned his Rule by instinct & inspiration of God, and according to his Divine intent; so all other Founders of Religious Orders have in their particular Institutes been lead the same way, as S. Basil, S. Augustin, S. Benedict, and others. For the thing is the same, and the light and other heavenly gifts, which they had, were given them in regard of the Religions which they founded, and not given to the Religious in regard of them. 
S. Ignatius.  Thus much I can testify of our Father & Founder S. Ignatius, that in a notebook, which I have seen, written with his own hand, it was found recorded, that when he was penning the Constitutions, he hung many days doubtful in one point, for many difficulties which did occur concerning it. And in that Book he noted day by day, the lights, rapts, & visions which had happened unto him, of our B. Lady, the B. Trinity, and others. Whence we may conclude, that not that point alone, of which we find this written, but all the rest of the Constitutions were penned by Divine instinct, and not by humane wit & invention; and the same we understand of all other Religions with so much the greater reason, by how much ours is inferior unto them in worth and sanctity.  

S Greg. 2. dial. c. 37.  10. S. Gregory writeth, that the same day S. Benedict died, two of his Monks did seem to see a large and straight way, strewed with men's garments, and full of lights; and an ancient man stood by, saying: This is the way by which the beloved of our Lord, Benedict, ascended to heaven. S. Bernard interpreteth that this way is no other, but the Rule which he left written; by observance whereof, as himself went to heaven, so might others do, that would follow it. For it can no ways be doubted, 
S. Bern●rd. hom. 〈…〉.  saith he, but that this manner of conversation is altogether holy, & ordered rather by divine inspiration and instinct, then by human prudence and invention, whereby S. Benedict came to so great grace of sanctity in this life, and so much glorious happiness after his departure. And this which S. Bernard speaketh of that Rule, every Religious person ought to believe an● pronounce of his; and if he walk the way it leads him, he shall without sail (in regard of the great light which is in it) & with continual pleasure and delight, arrive at his heavenly Country, which is full of all delight and pleasure.   

The fourteenth fruit: Good example. CHAP. XXVI.  
THere is no man but finds by experience the force, which Example hath to incline us to virtue, or to vice; insomuch that the holy-ghost in the Proverbs writeth, 
Pro. 13.20  that he that walketh with a wise man, shall be wise; a friend of fools, shall be made like unto them. 
The force of example.  Religion therefore must needs be in this respect also wonderfully beneficial, barring, as it doth, evil example, whereof a worldly life is so very full; and furnishing such store of good examples, which are worthily esteemed one of the greatest incitements to virtue, that a Soul can have, that desireth heavenly perfection. S. Antony the Great is witness hereof; 
S. Antony.  of whom S. Athanasius (a special good author) writeth, that he chose of purpose, rather to live in company of others, then to lead a solitary life, that he might have occasion to draw some good thing out of every one of those, with whom he lived, and express in himself all their prerogatives, being as it were watered from the spouts of virtue, derived from every one of them; which as he practised, so he always wished others to do the like. And Cassian doth relate it of him more at large in these words: 
Cassian. lib. 5. c. 4.  It is an ancient and a wonderful good saying of S. Antony, that a Monk that hath chosen to live in a Monastery with others, and aimeth at the height of great Perfection, must not think to learn all kind of virtue of one man. For one man is decked with the flower of knowledge, another more strongly provided of the virtue of discretion, another is grounded in constant patience, another excelleth in humility, another in continency, another hath a special grace in simplicity; one is renowned for magnanimity, another for charity and compassion; one for watching, another for silence, another for labour and pains taking; and therefore a Monk must, like a provident be, gather the spiritual honey which he desires, from the party, in whom he sees that virtue most naturally grow, & hive it up carefully in his breast. Thus speaks Cassian from S. antony's mouth.  
2. Let us therefore see, how and in what manner Religion doth teach us all kind of virtue by example of others. First whereas the way of Virtue is dark and obscure, 
Ho● Religion teacheth virtue by example Seneca. ep. 6.  both in regard that Spiritual things are of their own nature hidden from Sense, and the Prince of darkness doth continually endeavour to obscure them more and more, casting mists before our eyes; Religion doth guide us by the light of example, in the way of Virtue. Wherefore, as we use to say, that pictures are the books of unlearned people, so are examples also books written with great Roman letters, which a body cannot choose but see and read, be he never so negligent and careless.  
3. Seneca in few words pithily expresseth two other fruits of Example. One word of a man's mouth (saith he) and daily conversation, will benefit thee more, than a whole Oration penned; first, because men believe their eyes before their ears; secondly, because it is a long business to go by precepts; example is a shorter way, and more effectual. He calls it a shorter way, because we understand the nature of virtue, 
Example a ●hort way to learn 〈◊〉.  not by definition and division, and a long circumstance of words, such as people use in Sermons and disputations, but beholding it in native colours acted and represented before us; as if a body should go about to tell us what kind of man Caesar was he must use many words and tell a long story, and yet not be able to express him as he deserves; but if he show you the man, you instantly conceive more certainly and clearly, what he was. So when S. Francis washed the sick man that was full of leprosy, and S. Catherine of Sienna did so diligently tend a froward il-toungued woman, that was half mad, they gave far better and more compendious documents, how we ought to love our neighbour, and hate ourselves, and exercise humility and patience, then if they had undertaken to declare the same with long circumstance of words.  

And more ●●●●●tual.  4 It is also more effectual, as Seneca saith; first, because, whatsoever the matter is, when we see a thing done by an other, we learn that it is not so hard, but we likewise may do the same. That which we read in books, or is preached unto us, inst●n●teth our mind; yet most commonly it bringeth with it such a show of hardness, that they that have not experienced it, think it harsh & unpleasing, and when they see it ordinarily practised by other men like themselves, they think otherwise of it; as if there should be question, whether there be any passage over a high hill, there could not be a more certain proof of it, thea to show that many have passed already, and to see them stand on the top of it. S. Gregory confirms this doctrine, 
 writing upon those words of job: Thou renewed thy witnesses against me. These witnesses, as he saith, are just men, who give testimony to the commandments of God, and to the rewards layd-up for the keepers of them, that, if precepts do not move us, examples may move us; and that we may not think any thing hard in the desire of righteousness, which we behold perfectly performed by others.  
5. Now in Religion these examples are the more forcible, because they do not only put us out of fear of difficulties, but moreover they do secretly egg us forward with a burning kind of desire of virtue, 
S● ●●ofer. de S. 〈◊〉.  whereof S. Leo speaketh in these words: Reason may be good to exhort, and effectual in persuading; but examples are more forcible, than words; and it is a fuller manner to teach by deed, then by speech. Many have found this true by experience encouraged by example of others to come out of the filth of sinful pleasure and other vices; 
S. Aug. lib. 8. C●nt. ●6. 〈◊〉 converted by Example.  of which number were the two Gentlemen of the Emperor Theodosius his Court; of whom S. Augustin writeth, that falling by chance upon the Life of S. Antony, & reading it, they first began to wonder, & were somewhat nettled; but at last they grew so hot upon it, that from thence where they stood, both of them forsook the secular course they were in, and began a new kind of warfare in the service of God. Which passage Poli●ianus relating to S. Augustin, as he was familiarly talking with him, & with all entering into discourse of the life of S. Antony (whose name S. Augustin had then scarce heard of) & of the multitude of Monasteries that were in Egypt, & declaring at large their manner of life full of the sweetsmelling odours of God, as S. Augustin himself speaketh, put such a fire into his breast, that he was never after quiet in mind, till he resolved to leave the world, and betake himself to the like heavenly course of life; so that the example of S. Antony drew-on the two gentlemen, and their example again moved S. Augustin, who hath in like manner drawn infinite numbers after him.  
6. The like hath happened to diverse others, whom it were long to rehearse; but the example of two of later times is memorable. 
S Io●n 〈…〉.  john Columbinus Founder of the Order of Apostolical Clarcks, was converted by reading the Life of S. Marry of Egypt; 
S. Ignatius.  and Ignatius Founder of the Society of JESUS in like manner by reading the lives of the ancient Fathers; and both of them happening upon these lives by chance rather than setting themselves of purpose to peruse them, were so suddenly changed, and arrived afterwards to that eminent sanctity, which is known to the whole world.  
7. If therefore all kind of written examples, even those which make relation of things done in ancient times beyond the memory of man, be so very powerful, much more powerful must these needs be, which are fresh, & lively, & domestical, acted daily before our eyes; for it is evident, that that which we see and behold, makes a far greater impression in us, then that which we have by relation of others; in regard our very sense of seeing is quicker than our hearing; & a written discourse, let it be never so cloquent, cannot express a thing so very lively, with all the circumstances, wherein the chief effect of motion doth consist. And farther, if they could be of such force in the world, as to cause people to forsake the world, that were so wedded to it, & entangled in so many bonds, with so little & so weak a light, as than they had, & so many things to s●ay them, and cool their resolutions; shall they not be of far greater force in Religion, where all things are more easy, their light clearer, their strength greater to advance themselves in the practice of Humility, Obedience, & other virtues? Without doubt they are so, and do draw people on with unspeakable sweetness and facility; for the impression which example makes, is not harsh and violent, but gentle, delightful, and very natural.  
8. Finally it is no small benefit, that by this means we come more truly to know ourselves, 
〈…〉 by example of others.  & preserve ourselves in profound humility, living in daily company with such persons, as if we compare ourselves with them, we cannot but discover our own excessive wants, and their abundant riches. Of which kind we read in S. Bernard a notable precedent of a Lay-Brother, that casting himself at his feet, 
S. Bernard ser. de altitud & 〈◊〉 Cor.  accused himself with great confusion in these words: Woe is to me; because this night I have marked one Brother, and reckoned in him thirty virtues, whereof I find not so much as one to myself. How came this profound humility (which alone perhaps was more to be esteemed then the thirty virtues, 
A memorable example of humil●●●●  which he had marked in an other) into this man's soul, but by beholding others; and comparing himself with them? Which i●, the advice of S. Gregory in these words: whosoever desires fully to know what he is, must behold such persons as are not l●k● himself; 
S ●●re, 〈◊〉 l. 24. c. 6.  and by the beauty of the good, measure ●ow deformed he is, in forsaking that which is good. For by them that are full of good things, he may justly know how much he wants of weight, and by their beauty discover his own sowlenes, which he suffers, but cannot see in himself. We must therefore behold the life of that lus●, the we may precisely understand our own; 
S. Bernard s. 54 in cant.  for their behaviour, is a sampler for us to imitate; and their life, a lively lesson. Which document of S. gregory's cannot be practised any where more commodiously, then in Religion, where there be so many good men. Let us therefore see, how S. Bernard did practise it, and teach his people to observe it. Thus he speaketh: I behold one of singular abstinence, another of wonderful patience, another of most profound humility and meekness, another of great pity and compassion; this man I see with often Exstases in contemplation, another beating the heavens with incessant prayer, and others excelling in other virtues; these I behold, all of them fervent, all of them devout, all of them flowing with heavenly gifts and graces, in very deed as so many spiritual mountains visited by our Lord. But I, that find nothing of all this in myself, what can I conceive of myself, but that I am one of the mountains of G●lboe whom this most merciful visitor of all the rest doth passe-by in his wrath and indignation? My Children, this thought makes me, that I dare not holdup my eyes; it causeth grace, and prepares a soul for the leaps ●f the Bridegroom. Thus far S. Bernard.  

Good example a continual spur to virtue.  9 Whi●h fruit of Religion, is of no small price and value. For besides tha● t●e contempt and hatred of ourselves in comparison of others is the very flower of humility, a flower most acceptable and precious in the sight of God, it is a continual spur, urging us to labour for those things which we see we want, and to labour so much the more earnestly, because we see plenty in others of that which we want ourselves, whereof ariseth a most honourable and ●●lie emulation among the Brethren of Religion in purchase of virtue; such as we see among fellows of the same School for learning, among soldiers for the victory, among racers for the prize. And this eagernes, I dare say, is one of the chiefest means to Perfection; for as a man may best see his own heaviness, when he runs in company of others, that leave him a great way behind; and to be so left, doth egg him on to make more speed; so in this spiritual race we shall hardly find any thing, that doth more plainly show and upbraid us with our own tepidity and sloth, then to see others so fervent, that if we be not as heavy as stones and lead, it alone must needs suffice to spur us on. Wherefore it cannot be denied, but that there is a daily great benefit coming-in unto us by the example of our Brethren, with whom we live; which suffers us not to be quiet, but is continually admonishing, and instructing, and egging us forward. A solitary life, such as the ancient Anach●rets did lead, was certainly full of virtuous practices; yet because it wanted this benefit of example, S. Hierome doth exhort Rusticus rather to live in a Monastery, 
S Hierome Epist. 4.  in the company of many; th●t, as he speaketh, he may learn humility of one, patience of another; one may teach him silence, another meekness. To which purpose Theodoret, 
Theodoret in 〈…〉.  also an ancient Author (who lived in time of those Fathers, and had seen many of them) relateth of a holy man named Publius; 
Publius.  who being of noble descent, in the degree of a Senator, borne in a city of Greece called Z●ugma, took his dwelling upon a hill not far from the city; and many resorting to him, at first he built for every one of them a several cottage; but afterwards, upon better advice, he pulled all those cottages down, & built one house for them all together; that living under one roof, they might encourage one another in virtue and devotion. In consequence whereof, he was wont ever after often to exhort them, that they should endeavour continually to profit by one another, imitating the meekness of one, and strengthening their own meekness by the zeal of an other; and learning watchfulness of one, they should mutually teach him austerity in fasting; finally t●at among themselves they should be to each other both master and scholar; for taking of another what themselves wanted, they should, as he said, arrive to great perfection in virtue. Which excellent document be confirmed with this fit Similitude: For as several tradesmen bring all kind of commodities to the market, one sells bread, another herbs, another apparel, or shoes; and no one man can sufficiently provide the market of all necessaries, but imparting to others that whereof himself hath plenty, as bread, or apparel, receiveth of others what he wanteth, as oil, wine, shoes, and the like: so the servants of God among themselves, seeing no one man can possibly compass all things, must meet as it were in one market, and changing one with another the several commodities and parcels of virtue, receive of one an other, what they find they want.   

The fifteeneth fruit: Concord and unity of Religious men among themselves. CHAP. XXVII.  
IT is well known, that in all the Law of Christ our Saviour no one precept is more earnestly or more often commended unto us, than the Love of one another. 
The precept of love.  And as for the measure and proportion of this inward conjunction and charity, how great and fast he desired it should be, himself evidently showed, when in his last speech to his disciples, as it were in his last will and testament, he so ardently besought his Father, 
job. 17.11.  that all his Elect might be one among themselues, as he and his Father was one. What greater thing could be required, or more significantly expressed? seeing as He and his Father have one & the selfsame nature, so their will and intentions must needs be one and undivided. This concord and unity did long flourish among Christians, 
And the practice thereof.  specially in those first, and, as we may call them, golden times, while the precepts of our Lord were yet fresh in their memories, and f●●ie in their hearts, and, as we read in the Acts of the Apostles, 
Act. 4 32. Tertullian Apol. c. 3.  the believers had one hart, and one soul; yea all their earthly substance and possessions were one common thing to all and every one of them. Tertullian (a learned author) for this reason doth not stick to say, that the whole Euangelical Law doth consist in performing charitable offices towards one another, and recordeth that it was a common thing among the Gentiles in his time, to say: Behold, what love is among them; in so much that they are ready to dye for one another! Moreover he saith, that the Christians of those times did usually call Brothers and were so, not in word only, but in very deed; because all things but their wives, were common among them; and none of them had any thing so private to himself, that he had not rather his Neighbour had it, than himself.  
2. A● example of this mutual charity, and charitable beneficence and liberality towards one another, & of the force and efficacy thereof, remains upon record in the Life of S. Pachom●us. 
The con 〈…〉 of S. Pa●●●mius.  He, while he was a Heathen, bare arms under Constantine the Great, at which time the army being almost famished for want of victuals, it came before a certain City, where presently all things they could desire were brought them, with such expression of good will, care, & solicitude, that Pachomius beholding it, was very much strucken and amazed; and being very inquisitive, what people they might be that were so ready to do them that good turn, he was told they were Christians, a people whose profession was to love every body, and to be ready to do them any service. Whereupon presently lifting up his hands to heaven, & calling God to witness, he vowed to be of that Religion, though he never had heard any thing of it before. Such was the impression, love made in him. This Euangelical concord and amity therefore, a virtue so noble in itself and so acceptable to our Saviour Christ, in former times so much esteemed, and now in this corrupted Age of ours so much neglected & impaired, as there is scarce any remainder of it, a Religious Sta●e doth perfectly revive & bring to life again. And it is to be reckoned among the best commodities of the State, that it doth so solidly renew and set on foot again this Christian society & charity, laying all things common, which charity our Saviour gave for the mark and device, by whi●● his people should be known to be truly his Disciples. But this will appear more clearly, if we compare the bonds of this Religious society, with the bonds of other companies, and consider the great difference that is betwixt them.  
3. There be two kind of bonds, whereby men among themselves are bound to one another: 
The bond of Religious 〈…〉 then one other.  One is voluntary, entered by consent and will, as among friends, merchant's, and soldiers of a company; the other is natural, as among brethren and others of our kindred. The first kind of society & bond voluntarily entered, is not certainly to be compared with the bond of Religion; for first it is confined within certain limits and conditions, extending no farther than to the point of ●●ading, or warfare, or familiar conversation; all things that concern not these particulars, are private to every one, the rest of the company have nothing to do with them. But among the servants of God, nothing is their own, nothing private or particular, nothing different or divided from the rest, but all manner of businesses & endeavours, and absolutely all things whatsoever, are common among them. Besides those other bonds, as they are entered by consent and will, so by consent and will they may be taken-in again, & are usually taken-in, either because the dispositions of the parties sort not well together, or their fortunes alter, or the times are different, or there ariseth some controversy about the gain and commodity, as not rich enough to content all parties; insomuch that it is very hard to keep any such society or combination long on foot: Religious men remain bound not only by purpose & firm deliberation, but by Vow; so that they can no more depart from one another, than they can from the service of the Divine Majesty.  
4. But what wonder is it, that Religious charity should so far surpass all voluntary obligations, seeing doubtless it is stronger than any natural conjunction Can ●he●e be any more near together then brethren among themselves, who a●e derived from one stock, and once lay in one belly, and seem to be (as 〈◊〉 scripture speaketh) the same flesh and the same b●ne? 
●●n ●●. 14.  yet they seldom agree, 〈…〉 betwixt them very often; and in their fashions and proceedings they are very different, and you shall hardly find any that put their stocks in common together, or can long maintain them so. In Religion it is otherwise; for (as I said even now) all things are common; in so much that comparing both the bonds together, we may truly say with S. Augustin: 
S. Aug ser. 18. d● verb. Apo.  The brotherhood of Christ is better than brotherhood in blood; for this is often at variance with itself, the brotherhood of Christ is incessantly peaceable; That with emulation divideth among themselves things that were common; this imparteth them with joy; That often despiseth brethren in company of others; this often gives friendly entertainment to a stranger.  
5. Yea some of the Heathen Philosophers delivering their opinion in this kind, have written, that no society or friendship can be more noble, or more fast, then if good men of like condition enter league and familiarity together. To which purpose a saying of Antisthenes is much commended, 
Cic. 1. off.  that a just and upright man, is more to be valued and loved, than a kinsman; and that the obligations of virtue are stronger, than the obligations of consanguinity; in regard the dispositions of their mind suit better. Which S. Ambro●e expresseth more solidly, 
S. Ambros. 1. off. c. 7.  & also in better terms, saying: I love you never a whit the less, whom I have begotten to the G●●spel, then if I had begot you in marriage; neither is Nature more hot in love, than Grace; certainly we ought to love them far more, with whom we make account we shall be for ever, than those with whom we shall live only in this world.  
6. Cassian in one of his Collations bringeth-in the Abbot Abraham expressing more at large this whereof we now speak, 
Cassian Coll. ult. cap. vit.  & preferring by far the conjunction which is among Religious, before any conjunction, which nature can enforce. For it is certain, saith he, that the conjunction, in which either by society of wedlock, or the knot of consanguinity, parents & children, & cousin-germans, and man & wife, and other kindred, are knit together, is short and brickle; the best and most obedient children, when they come to years, are often shutout from their father's house and possessions; the communication which is betwixt man and wise, may be barred sometimes upon just occasions; the love which should be betwixt brethren, is broken-of by contentious division; Only Monks maintain a perpetual unity and conjunction, possessing all things without difference, and esteeming that to be theirs, which is their brethren's, and that their brethren's, which any way belongeth to themselves. Whereunto we may add, for further proof of the strength of this love and concord, that, 
& Coll. 16.6.  which the same Cassian relateth of a speech of Abbot joseph; where he discomseth thus: To the end concord and unity may long endure, all desire of wealth, or other earthly things must of necessity be utterly rooted out; and moreover, every one must barie himself of his own will▪ & be more ready to yield to another's judgement, then to stand to his own. Which if it be true, as certainly it is, we may easily see, that it is very hard for men in the world, to hold many of them truly & sincerely together; & chose, that in Religion the same is very easy, and, I may say, almost necessary, where voluntary Poverty doth cutof all cause of strife, & voluntary Obedience all passions of self-will, 
 & in very deed all use thereof. Whereupon S. Chrysostome saith wondrous well, speaking of this benefit of Religion: What marvel is it, that they should all of them use one kind of habit & diet, seeing they have all of them but one soul, not only by nature (for so all men have) but by love and charity: for how can any man be at variance against himself? So that in S. Chrisostome's opinion it is as hard for one Religious man to fal-out with another, as it is for a man to fal-out with himself. For as in one and the same man, many members are held in unity by one and the same soul, so in Religion many men are united together by one only soul of Charity and consent. It is therefore certainly a great matter, and full of great profit and pleasure, and, if we think well of it, half a miracle, that in such diversity of nations, and natures, and age, and dispositions, the Grace of God should have so much force as to knit together so many companies of Religious people in so inward a conjunction of love & vision of minds, as if they had been borne of one mother, and bred-up with the same milk, there could not be more, nor so much love betwixt them. Which S. Basil doth worthily commend, 
S. B●s●l. Canst m●n. c. 1●.  admiting that men, as he speaketh, of diverse nations and countries, should so grow toge●ther in one, by perfect similitude of behaviour and discipline, that a man may justly think, that in many bodies there is but one soul, or that they are of one soul but so many instruments. Which inward conjunction and concord among Religious people, though it chiefly concern the mind, 
 that they be (as the Apostle speaketh) of the same meaning and will, it extendeth itself to outward things also, and is not a littlest en●●●ned by them. They dwell together; their apparel is alike; their employments, and their ends, and their means be the same; and consequently for commodity or incommodity, 
P●●l p. 2.  prosperity or adversity, they fare alike; and that which falls upon one, falls upon another; which things though they be small in themselves and mean, as all temporal things are, yet they testify great unity among them, and do also greatly preserve it.  

S. Lauren●e justinian. de 〈…〉 Pl●to ●ial 4. the r●p.  7. Wherefore S. Laurence 〈◊〉 extolling this commoning in outward things, which we find among Religious people, saith it is a perfect sampler of that which is in Nature. For as the sustenance, which we take by meat and drink, is equally divided to all the parts of the body, as every member or part hath need, and Nature itself, as a discreet householder, is judge and distributer thereof, wi●h ●ut any strife or contention among the members; so all things necessary are equally divided in Religion to the contentment of every one. Wherof●●e there can not be any thing in the world more beneficial, or more delightful to beh●ld, than this perfect unity and communication of all things which is in 〈◊〉. And to say no more, the very Heathen Philosophers going about to 〈◊〉 in their imagination a City or Commonwealth so absolutely perfect and complete in all respects, that a man may rather wish such a thing, then ever h●pe to find it, could not invent a more excellent, nor more quaint form thereof then that of which I have spoken Plato, as we see, framed his imaginary Commonwealth after this mould, wishing that, according to the old Proverb, among friends all things might be common; and accounting it the greatest virtue and happiness which could be in a city, that there be nothing private, neither money, nor house, nor possessions, but every thing in common, even those thin●s which naturally are so proper to private persons, that they cannot be common; as that our eyes, & ears, & hands should see, & ear, & lab●u● for the common, our very D●ctam●ns and opinions should be common, & every one th●ng well or il, & rejoice or be sorry for the same things that another is. If in such a City, saith he, or Commonwealth, the Gods or the sons of the Gods do chance to dwell together, certainly they must needs be blessed & full of all joy and happiness. This is Plato his discourse; & he addeth farther that there never was, neither ever will be such a Commonwealth upon earth.  
8. How great therefore is the excellency and happiness of a Religious company, where this is so perfectly performed, which Plato thought could not possibly be compassed; or if it were compassed, he was of opinion that they were Gods, or the sons of the Gods, that lived in that joy and felicity? Now though every one of us may better find by his own experience, then by any man's relation, that this is so perfectly accomplished in Religion, it will not be amiss for proof thereof, 
S. Basil. Const. Mon. c. 9  to bring two such witnesses, as are without all exception, and express it beside in words, which come very near to those which Plato useth. S. Basil saith thus: In it all things are common, their minds, their wills, their bodies, and all things necessary for meat, drink, & apparel; They serve one God in common, their exercises of piety are in common, their salvation, their conflicts, their labours, their rewards and crowns are common; 
S. john. Chrys. lib. 3.  In it many are one, and one is not alone, but in many. But S. john Chrysostom is far more copious, po●●ring-forth on every side the golden streams of his eloquence, but chiefly whensoever he hath had occasion to plead for Religion, as he doth in his Apology for Monastical life; 
Comparison of a Religious life with that of the Angels.  where having reckoned-up many incommodities & dangers of a Secular life, at length he saith thus: You shall find none of these evils at all in Monasteries; but when others are tossed with the waves and surges of the sea, they alone lying quiet and safe in the haven, behold as it were from heaven the shipwreck which others suffer. For they have chosen a heavenly conversation, not inferior to the Angels. For as among the Angels there is no doubtful change, so that some of them glory in prosperity, and others lament their hard fortune; but all are joyful and quiet, uniformly rejoicing together in that heavenly glory; the like you shall see in Monasteries: No body is upbraided with poverty, no body is more honoured for his riches; so that Mine and Thine (two things which turn all things upside-down) are quite shutout of their door; all things among them are common, their board, their dwelling, their apparel, and, which is more to be admired, they are of one and the same mind. They are all equally noble and honourable; equally rich, which is to be truly rich; and equally glorious, which is the only true glory. Their pleasures, and pastimes, and delights, and desires, and hopes, are the same. All things are among them most carefully ordered, as it were balanced by weight and measure; there is no uneven dealing, but exceeding great order, and moderation, and convenience, and unspeakable care of concord & continual matter of joy. There and no where else you shall find, that they do not only contemn things present, and shutout all occasions of quarrel and debate, and that they are happy in the assured hope of eternal life, but also that they make account that all things which happen, be they joyful, be they sad, be common to every one among them; whereby their grief is more easily assuaged, in regard that every one doth endeavour to his power to bear part of the burden, and they have infinite occasions of gladness, every one rejoicing, not in his own alone, but in others behalf.   

The sixteenth fruit: Mutual assistance in all things. CHAP. XXVIII.  
THE unity and concord, whereof I spoke in the last Chapter, is certainly a great benefit, and very pleasing to Almighty God, and includeth two other excellent commodities, whereof I shall treat severally in the Chapter following. The one, is the mutual help and assistance, which Religious people have one of another in all things. That many meet together, and join their forces and abilities in one, 
●●ist●tle 〈…〉  must needs be exceeding profitable for every one in particular, and absolutely for all occasions. For by this means (as Aristotle well observeth▪ though every one by himself be not so good, yet all together are better, than any one among them, be he never so good. As (saith he) a banquet, to the settin●-out whereof many concur, and lay their purses together, is much more sumptuous, then if it be provided at one man's cha●●es: So every one in common hath some measure of virtue & wisdom, which being put in common, doth make one perfect thing; which is also the reason, why many judge better of Music or poetry, than one; because some observe one thing, others another.  
2. This is Aristotle's discourse; and it holdeth in his opinion, though every one by himself be not perfect; much more then, if the number be of choice persons, and every one among them very eminent, or at least endeavour to be so: and consequently Religious people must needs reap in every kind great benefit by the community in which they live; which secular people cannot, living as they do; every one, as I may say, at his own charges. For as a plank of a ship, if it be taken severally by itself, is for small purpose; but many put together are very serviceable at sea, to transport commodities, and brook the waves and billows. And stones upon a heap by themselves, serve for little; but laid handsomely in mor●er together, make a glorious show of princeli: Palaces and buildings; and in towers, and castles, and towne-walles, are able to abide the Canon; and sever them again, they are but a heap of stones as they were before; So one man alone by himself, either is not for so much, or for no more, then by his own single strength he is able to perform; but many together fortify one another, as we see daily before our eyes in works, that require corporal strength and labour. If one man take upon him to carry or draw a great weight, with all his strength he is not perhaps able to stir it; many together go away smoothly with it, which as it is true absolutely in all things, which are done by concurrence of many, so I shall show how it agreeth with our particular case, both in respect of the benefit and perfection of our own souls, and for whatsoever else is to be done for the good and perfection of our Neighbour.  
3. And first, as concerning ourselves, we read in holy Scripture, that It is better to be two together, then one; for they have the benefit of their society; if one fall, 
Company beneficial against mischief, which a soul may come by.  he may be slayed by another. Woe to him that is alone; because when he is fallen, he hath none to lift him up. If two sleep together, they will cherish one another. How shall one be warm? And if one prevail, two will resist him. A triple cord is hardly broken. In which words we may find three commodities expressed, without which a spiritual life cannot subsist. For first considering we are so weak, and the place, where we stand, so very slippery, that we cannot but often fall, is it not a great benefit to have one always with us to give us his hand, and lift us up? Which in the falls which the Soul doth come by, is much more necessary, then when our body falls. For in these, we may foresee, when and where we are like to fall; but our soul is often blinded, and falls in the dark, and lieth still a great while, thinking not of it, or perhaps thinking that it stands well enough. Besides when our soul once gets a fall, it bruiseth itself so sorely, that unless it have help from without, it cannot rise again; which help comes chiefly from God, but yet by the hands and assistance of men. And put the case, there were a man so fortunate, as never to fall (which is impossible) he is in danger notwithstanding of a certain spiritual coldness, which easily creeps upon us, in the dead winter of this world, where we walk in so great a distance from that Sun of justice, which one day will show his face, and warm us. To put away this cold, and bring heat into our souls, nothing can be better, then, as the Wiseman speaketh, that one cherish another; and if there be more together, the heat must needs be the greater. For, as we see a piece of great timber will not burn of itself in the fire, but if you put some brands ends unto it, it presently kindleth; so our souls, if they be left alone, wax cold; but in company of others that be withdraw, they are easily inflamed, both by counsel and example, whereof I have already spoken. But how shall one alone be warmed? as the Wiseman speaketh.  
4. The third commodity is, that if one be too strong, two will resist him; pointing at the continual strife and combat which we have (as the Apostle speaketh) against the powers and rulers of this darkness; 
Eph. 6. 1●.  in which fight it cannot be imagined, how much more safe it is to have company. For, as S. Leo (who is excellent at all hands) saith very well: 
S. Leo ser. de ●●iun. s●ps mens.  Though a spiritual warrior may come-of valiantly, if he fight alone; it is safer and easier for him, to fight standing in battail-array openly against the enemy; fight and bringing the battle to an end, not with his own strength alone, but assisted with troops of his brethren, under command of an invincible King. For many together fight with less danger, than every one can do by himself; neither can a man be easily wounded, if opposing the buckler of Faith he be defended, 
S. Bernard s. 4. de Circum●is.  not by his own only, but by others strength; that, as the cause is the same, the victory may be common among them. S. Bernard saith moreover, that there cannot be a more dangerous thing, then for a man to stand to contend alone with the Devil, whom he cannot see, and yet is seen by him; & therefore whosoever doth think of serving God, must himself have the virtue of Fortitude, and seek beside to fight in array with others, where (a● he saith) he hath as many succours, as companions; and such companions, as may say with the Apostle: We are not ignorant of the wiles of the enemy. For a Congregation, in regard of the strength it hath, is terrible, as a battle well ordered; but woe to him that is alone; because when he is fallen, he hath no body to lift him up. Thus saith S. Bernard.  
5. Finally the Wiseman, besides the divine authority which his speech doth carry, doth confirm what he saith, by a very fit example: A triple cord is hardly broken; as who should say, a cord is made of several little threads twisted together; the threads, while they are several, are small and weak; when they are woven one within another, they are able to hold a huge weight, and bear a great stress: so by ourselves we are weak and feeble, but if we join and agree with others, if we be well united and linked together, we shall be able to abide, and go through with any thing.  

Ho● living in common d●th conduce for the help of our Neighbour.  6. And thus much of the help which Religious men afford one another, for the overcoming of the common Enemy, and to increase in virtue and fervour of charity; The same doth extend itself also to external things, and the benefit of their neighbour, of which I am next to speak; wherein that which S. Gregory writeth in one of his Homilies upon Ezechiel, is much to be considered. Almighty God, saith he, dealeth with the hearts of men, as he dealeth with the climates of the earth. He could have stored every country with all sorts of fruit; 
S. Greg. Hom. 10. in Ezech.  but if one country stood not in need of the fruit of an●ther country, there would have been no commerce betwixt them; wherefore to one he hath given plenty of wine, to another oil; upon one he hath bestowed abundance of cattle, fruits of the earth upon another; that the one transporting that which another hath not, and the other returning that which the former brought not, the countries themselves might be joined together, by communication of the fruits thereof. As therefore the climates of the earth, so the minds of Saints, conferring mutually one upon another that, which they have received, do as it were transport their fruits from country to country, that they may be all united together in charity. And this which S. Gregory expresseth by example of several countries, the Apostle long before taught us by the known example of a man's body; which S. Gregory again expounding in his Morals saith thus: What is holy Church but the body of her Sovereign Head? 
Rom. 12.5. ●. or 12.12.  wherein one is the eye, discovering profound mysteries; another is the hand, working good things; another the foot, 
S Greg. in 28 c. 6.  going about that which is commanded; another the ear, understanding the voice of the precepts; another the nose, distinguishing the i'll savour of the bad, from the sweet odour of the good; who while they assist one another by the several functions they have received, as the members of man's body, do make one body among themselves; and performing in charity several offices, the body in which they are, can by no means be severed.  

A special providence 〈◊〉 that every one 〈…〉.  7. And S Gregory in many places doth take it for a special point of God's providence, that every one is not endued with all kind of graces, to the end that he, that might perhaps have been proud by the grace he hath received, should be kept in humility by the virtue which he wanted; and again by charity every one have all, possessing in another that, which he hath not in himself, and reciprocally bestowing that, which he hath, upon another. Wherefore (as S. Gregory discourseth further) one is endued with the word of wisdom, and is not seconded with the speech of knowledge, that is of teaching; another is conspicuous for teaching, and yet is not strong in the word of wisdom, being able enough to deliver whatsoever he hath learned, but not arriving to discern any profound thing of himself. This man by discretion of spirit doth subtly dive into other men's minds; but hath not the skill of several languages. Another in that one tongue which he knoweth, doth by prudent interpretation examine the weight of every sentence and word, and patiently wanteth other good things, which he hath not.  
8. This being granted and averred, that which followeth is evident; to wit, that no one man can be of himself so pregnant or well provided in this life, as to be able by himself alone without help of others to do any great matter; but of necessity he must join himself with others▪ and supply from others what is wanting in himself. Wherefore a Secular state, must needs come far short of a Religious state in this point; 
How the endeavours of Secular people come of times to be frustrate.  in regard that Secular people stand alone, and follow their own private dictamen; aiming at that which is most profitable, or commodious, or honourable, or glorious for themselves; or if they attempt any thing of a higher strain, for advancement of the service of God, or of his Church, they have not ability enough of themselves to go through with it: so that even the strength which they have, serves at last to little purpose; as if one man alone should set his shoulder to remove a huge stone, to what purpose were it? but if he set hard to it with many others, they may do something & whatsoever is done, his labour hath a part in it. Moreover we may be bold to say that which is very true; that oftimes Secular people overvalue their own abilities, and trusting too much upon themselves, undertake things beyond their force, specially the desire of fame and excellency, which possesseth all mankind, egging them forward to great matters, chiefly where honour & applause may be gotten; and so leaving that which they were able to do, 
S. Greg 28. mor. c. 6.  they lose their time and labour in things which they will never be able to compass. Which S. Gregory expresseth very neatly and elegantly a little after that, which before I cited out of him. Our Creator & Governor (saith he) by wonderful providence having bestowed some things upon one, & denied them to an other, and again denied one that which he hath given an other, whosoever attempteth to do more than he hath received, endeavoureth to go beyond the bounds or measures which are set him; now he that marketh not the limits which are measured-out unto him, sets his foot in a downefal, & boldly making haste to catch that which he cannot reach, doth most commonly lose that which he might have reached. We use the help of our members best, when we keep them to their several functions; beholding light with our eyes, and hearing sounds with our ears: But if a man change this order, and will hear with his eyes, and so with his ears, he holds them both open in vain; If a body will smell with his mouth, and taste with his nose, he takes from himself the use of both these senses; for not being put to their proper uses, they forgo their own functions, and reach not to do another's.  
9 This error therefore, 
Mutual help makes every thing easy.  and confusion, and disorder, of which the world (if we mark it) is very full, hath no place in Religious congregations; every one betakes himself to the station, place, and office, which is appointed him by his Superiors, as by the General of an army; and follows not his own fancy therein; and his Superiors appoint him that which God hath decreed and determined; for we have sufficiently proved before, that God doth govern and dispose all Religious people by the hand of their Superiors. Wherefore being governed and directed by God, who framed every one's nature, and knoweth every one's capacity and ability, no man need to fear, lest he be not placed, where it is fittest for him. And nearer to our purpose; seeing in Religion all have the same end, and direct their actions and endeavours to one common intention and purpose, they are as ready and quick to help one another, and do it as cheerfully, as the hand is ready to help the eye; or the eye, the hand; or the feet, the head; or rather as the hand, or the eye, or any other part is ready to help itself; because that which is a benefit to the common, profits every particular man; and that which every particular man doth for any of the rest, he doth it certainly for himself; by which means that which one wanteth, is most easily and perfectly supplied with an other's plenty; a thing so beneficial in itself, and so much desired of every body. For whereas some have learning and have not wisdom to dispatch businesses; others have wisdom, and not much learning▪ some conceive a thing well, but cannot utter that which is in their mind; and in all kind of knowledge one is m●●e skilful than another, because no man can be perfect in all things; these perfections and talents, are in this brotherly community so tempered, that what may fail in one, is upheld by another's help, and in fine as I said out of Aristotle in the beginning of this Chapter) every one hath something, and all have al.  
10. And this I take to be the reason, why there be always so many eminent men in Religion in all kinds, & so many rare works have been achieved by them, both for the help of their neighbour (of which I shall have occasion to speak hereafter) & in matter of Learning, wherein they have mightily flourished, and derived a great esteem thereof to all posterity, and in all kind of virtue and sanctity; to wit▪ by reason of this concord and connexion, which enableth and en●icheth every particular man with the abilities and talents of the rest; and what they could not do by themselves alone, they perform by the hand and help of others; whereof we have a plain example out of holy Scripture in the Tower of Babel, which by consent of many workmen aiming at one thin●, 
Gen. 11.  & labouring in one business, grew to an excessive height; and was suddenly dashed, and brought to confusion, by no other engine, then by disturbance of the same consent, through the multiplicity of several languages; being utterly disabled thereby from assisting one another; and the like happeneth in all things which men go about.   

The seaventeenth fruit: Communication of good works. CHAP. XXIX.  
THE other effect of Religious unity, is the Communication of good works, among all those that are of the same Order and Family; and that we may the better discover the greatness of this benefit, we must consider what is communicated, and how. First therefore it is certain, that in all good works there be three things to be considered: The increase of grace which every good work doth merit, 
Three things in every good work.  together with the proportion of glory and reward in heaven, corresponding to the measure and value of the work. And this is ever proper and peculiar to him that doth the work, for it is the privilege of Christ our head and mediator only, by his pains and passion to have merited grace & glory for others. The second commodity of a good work is, that it satisfyeth for our sins past; & this may be communicated with others, & wholly applied unto them, if we wil The third is Impetration, a great help towards the saving of our souls; for whatsoever we do that is pleasing in the eyes of God, doth not only deserve a reward for that which is past, but deserveth help for the time to come, to wit, that we may persever to the end, and go forward in virtue, and withstand our ghostly enemies, overcome our passions, abide that which is hard & difficult, in fine to obtain whatsoever may conduce to our salvation. And this Impetration may be also conferred upon another by the will of him, in whom it is; which is no small benefit, seeing it is in the next degree to that grace, wherein the life of our soul doth consist; for though no man can merit justifying-grace for another, he may merit notwithstanding those helps whereby justifying-grace is easily increased.  
2. Now there be two ways, 
Two ways of communicating good works.  whereby these things may be communicated: the one, by will, as it were bestowing my wealth upon another, by my own gift; the other without any express act of the will, but as it were by natural consequence. For supposing that some join in a community together, it followeth naturally of itself, though none of them think thereof, that all their works & merits are common among them, so that the immediate ground of this communication is the bond or tie which is betwixt them; insomuch that where that is, & the straighter & firmer it is, the communion also of merits & works must needs be more ample & full. And we may declare it by that which passeth in a natural & outward society or company, whereof there be diverse degrees: The first is grounded in likeness of nature, which comprehendeth all mankind; and by occasion thereof many things are common among all men, as the seas, and seashores, and many things of that nature. Again those of the same country are more nearly linked, & have many things common among them; as their language, and many rights and duties. A nearer degree than this, is to be of the same town and city; wherein many more things are common, as the streets, the Courts, the Laws, Churches, Customs. The nearness of affinity & kindred is yet a straighter tie; & the nearest of all is of those that be of the same household and family, wherein all things are common, possessions, money, householdstuff, nobility also and honour. In like manner in the spiritual conjunction we speak off, the greatest society comprehendeth all that are in the state of Grace and Charity; and as among them doubtless many things are common, so every particular man among them hath some share of the good deeds, which are done by all the rest. Which David reflecting-on did much rejoice saying: I am partaker with all that ●eare thee, and that keep thy Commandments; For in this sense S. Ambrose and diverse others interpret this place. 
Psa 18.63.  Besides this general conjunction of all good and godly men, all Religious people, of whatsoever Order or Institute they be, have a nearer tie, grounded in the profession of the same Euangelical perfection in the same Vows, & abrenuntiation of all earthly things. Nearer than this, is to be of one and the same Religious Family, where all have the same Superiors, and Rules, and rites, the selfsame end, commodities and incommodities, and all things common among them. Wherefore as in a wel-ordered Family, whatsoever one brother acquireth, he acquireth it not to himself alone, but to all the rest of his brethren; & in a company of merchants, the gain of every particular man, redounds to the benefit of the whole Company, & the increase, which ariseth, is equally divided among them all; much more the spiritual lucre must needs extend itself to all such Brethren and Fellows as are linked together by a spiritual knot and tie, which is yet more evident in the example of a man's body, the conjunction of the members whereof do express the conjunction of Religious people more naturally, than any thing else. For we see, that the body receiveth sustenance so, as though one member take pains in getting it, an other in chewing, another in digesting it, yet the juice and nourishment is equally derived into all the members; all are refreshed, all are strengthened by it, without any contention or difference. And seeing it happeneth thus in Nature, shall not Grace have the like effect? yes doubtless; and the more perfectly, by how much the power of Grace is greater, and more effectual. To which purpose S Leo saith: Though every member be not alike beautiful, and in so great variety of parts, all cannot deserve alike; 
S. Leo s. 10. the Qua●r.  yet the connexion of Charity maketh that there is a communication of comeliness. For they that be united in holy love, though all of them be not ●ich in grace alike, yet they are glad of one an other's good; and so that which they affect, cannot be any ways strange unto them; because they that rejoice at an other's profit, increase their own riches.  
3. S. August●n encumbered with Pastoral care, writing to the Monks that had seated themselves in the solitude & quiet of the Island Capraria, expresseth in himself this, 
S. Augustin Ep. 81.  which we have said, and speaketh thus: When we think of the quiet which you have in Christ, though we be in continual labour, yet in your charity we also do repose. For we are but one body under one head; so that you in us are full of business, and we in you are full of quiet; because if one member suffer, all the members suffer with it. And elsewhere he saith thus: 
lib. 50. Ho●il. H●●●. 15.  Rejoice with him, upon whom God hath bestowed grace; and in him thou art able, for what thou art not able in thyself; Perhaps he is a Virgin; love him, and his virginity is thine; Again thou hast more patience; let him love thee, and it is his. He can watch long; if thou dost not envy him, his labour is thine; Perhaps thou canst fast longer; 
How Religious people partake of one an other's merit,  if he love thee, thy fasting is his, because thou art in him; properly thou and he are not all one, by charity you are. This therefore is the effect of charity; for tying men's hearts inwardly together, and interlacing them one within another, consequently their works are mingled and common among them. And if the mere habit of charity be so powerful, what will not the State of Religion founded in charity be able to do? For the tie of charity may be broken, the state cannot be forsaken; and it hath not only naturally in itself all the force and strength of charity, but addeth a permanency and an everlasting obligation, from which we cannot go back. Wherefore if we take things right, we may be justly thought in Religion to love God with so many souls, to work with so many hands, to run about good things with so many feet, to bear hardness with so many shoulders, as we have companions; because they do all these things for our benefit, and not for themselves only.  
4. David was leading his Army against the enemy; 
1. Reg. 30.  part thereof being weary stayed behind; the other part pursued on, and became master both of the field, and of a great booty; whereupon some stood stiffly, that they that remained behind, should not share with the others in the prey; and at the first sight they seemed to have reason. For why should they that had taken no pains, nor run any hazard, taste the fruits of others labours? Again, why should they that had bought the victory with the price of their blood, and hazard of their life, give part of the reward to others? Yet let us see, how holy Scripture condemneth the opinion of these men, and what david's judgement was in the business, who certainly was a very wise man. Holy Scripture doth so far dislike their doings, that it calleth them wicked and unjust dealers. And David pronounced this sentence upon them: you deal unjustly; for certainly the part must be equal, of him that goeth to the combat, and of him that remaineth with the baggage. Could there be a clearer testimony of Religious communion? For if it hold among soldiers, and be, as the Scripture saith, ever since a constant law in military discipline, by reason of the connexion of fellowship which is in an army; why should not the same law be in force in Religion, and every one be partaker of that which any one among them hath laboured? For Religion is a spiritual army; and of these spiritual troops the true David CHRIST our Saviour is General and Leader; here be none that contend, that their works be not divided with others; rather they desire it for their brethren's good (which is charity) and for their own: for every one spending himself in common, employeth but one man's labour, but enjoyeth on the other side the labours of as many as are of that Religious Order. Whereupon S. Macarius saith excellently well: 
S. Macarius Hom. 3.  The Brethren must converse together in love and joy; and he that worketh, must say thus of him that ●●ayeth: I am partaker of the treasure which my brother getteth, because it is common; And he that prayeth, must think with himself of him that readeth: The fruit which he reapeth by reading is my gain. He that waiteth, must think thus: My service redounds to the benefit of all; for as the parts of a man's body are many, and yet it is but one body, and they help one another, every one performing his several office; as for example: the eye seeth for the whole body; the hand worketh for the rest of the members; the foot, when it goeth, carrieth all the other limbs; so the Brethren must yield service to one another, and he that readeth, love him that prayeth, rejoicing in it, and thinking with himself: He prayeth for me. Thus saith S. Macarius.  

The rich treasure communicated by participation.  5. Now to what a mass of infinite treasure must it needs amount, if all the riches of so great an army, as almost all Religious Orders are, be brought into one heap? Prayer, Contemplation, Mortification of our passions, strife and victory over temptations, and an infinite number of good thoughts, some inflamed with charity, some adorned with humility, and other virtues, all which are internal; the punishing of the body by fasting, watching, and other austerities; the suffering of diverse incommodities, the performing of humble offices, paynes-taking for the good of our neighbour, heat and cold, journeys to and fro, hazard oftimes of our very life; what can a man wish for more, then sitting still (if he be so commanded) in his chamber, to be partaker of all the labours, which those of the same Order in so many parts and provinces of the world as they are spread, do undergo, in preaching, and praying, and helping of souls, finally in performing devoutly so many good deeds, or suffering patiently and courageously so many evils? Neither can a man easily guess or declare, in how many occasions the merits of others in Religion do afford us help; for if temptation rush-in upon us, they procure armour to defend us; if through infirmity we begin to waver, by their means strength and constancy is afforded us; if we be to ask any thing of God, or to appear before his Infinite Majesty upon other occasions, we shall not need to fear to appear empty in his sight; because we are put in favour with him, not only by our own good deeds, but by the deserts of others; their influence into our prayers adding grace and weight unto ours. What need I say more? Our coldness, our faults, and sins are so recompensed on the other side with the good offices of them with whom we live, that he is more pleased with their duty, 
A 〈…〉 D●dacus Guia.  then provoked with our offences. To which purpose it is recorded of D●dacus Guia (who was one almost of the first Fathers of this our Society, & a very holy man) that he was wont to say, that as every body refuseth a cracked groat, if it come alone; but if it be told-out among two or three thousand other pieces, it passeth current; so men that are imperfect, and have little in themselves, that can be pleasing to God, yet because in Religion they come with others that are perfect, the riches of the perfect supply their penury and want. 
 This was given us plainly to understand, when Abraham praying for the five Cities, God showed himself ready to spare them, if fifty, or thirty, or ten just men could have been found in them. For if by reason of the neernes which is betwixt men of the same town, the virtue of so few would have been so beneficial to so many wicked people, much more by reason of the vnio●●hich is far greater and nearer in Religion, the virtue and holiness of many will countervail, I do not say the heinous offences, but the infirmity of a few. We see that God hath often punished a whole Family, or city, or army, 
●●s. 7.  for one man's fault; and particularly when for Achan his covetousness in stealing something out of the enemy's camp, the spoils whereof were wholly vowed to God, he suffered the whole house of the Children of Israel to be put to flight and to the sword by the enemy. Wherefore if one man's fault was prejudicial to so many, shall not the virtue and goodness of many be able to benefit one man? specially considering the goodness of God is infinitely more inclinable to mercy then to rigour, and doth more willingly take occasion to show his bounty, then to punish.   

The eighteenth fruit: the bond of Vow. CHAP. XXX.  
ANother commodity is the bond of Vow. 
What a Vow is.  A Vow, as the learned define it, is a Religious promise made to God freely of our own accord, of some better and more excellent good. Which very definition being common to every Vow, showeth that a Vow is very beneficial, both in regard the matter of it must be no ordinary thing, but some thing more than ordinary; and because it containeth a kind of contract betwixt a soul and God, with whose Infinite Majesty to enter covenant, must needs be both profitable and glorious. Now amongst all Vows, the Vows of Religion without all question have the chiefest place, and consequently bring great profit to our souls. And first (as S. Thomas saith) whatsoever we do by Vow, 
S Thomas 1.2. q 88 1. c & Op. 17. c. 12. The benefit of a Vow.  is much more meritorious in itself, and more grateful to God, then if we did the same thing without any such tie or obligation. For if we do an act of an inferior Virtue upon a higher motive, or commanded by a higher Virtue, that act must needs be higher, and more noble; as an act of justice or Fortitude, done upon motive of Charity, or commanded by Charity; and consequently the Virtue of Religion being higher than any Moral Virtue, and a Vow being an act of Religion, whatsoever Moral Virtue we exercise by obligation of Vow, it must needs be higher and of greater value, then if we did the same out of the proper motive of the Moral Virtue. 
S. Aug de Virg c. 8.  S. Augustin delivereth the selfsame doctrine in his Treatise of Virginity, where he speaketh thus: Virginity itself is not respected, because it is Virginity, but because it is dedicated to God; it is kept in the flesh, yet it is the spirit of Religion and devotion which keeps it; by which means the Virginity also of the body is spiritual, which pious Continency doth vow and keep. And a little after: That Continency is to be reckoned among the goods of the mind in a more honourable place, wherein the integrity of the body is kept, vowed and consecrated to God the Creator of soul and body. And this which S. Augustin saith of Continency, may be said of all other Virtues; as that the works of Obedience, Humility, Temperance, and others ennobled by Religion, and done by obligation of Vow, are much more rich and precious.  
2. An other reason is, because every good thing is always better, by putting an other good thing to it. Now the very promise of a good thing, is good; as we may see by that which happeneth daily among men. For unless a body be a very clown, he must needs love and thank a man not only for doing, but for promising a good turn; and consequently it is better and more gratful to God to vow a thing and do it, then to do it only. Besides a work offered by Vow, is incredibly much better than the same work offered by itself; because by Vow we do not only offer the work or act, but the power, which is our will and freedom, renouncing it wholly and disabling ourselves from not willing, or not doing it ever after. To which purpose S. Anselm brings a known Similitude of one that gives away not only the fruit, 
S. Anselm lib. Sim l. S. Bon●uenture in Apo. paup.  but the tree itself. And S. Bonaventure saith thus: Acts of Virtue may be done either out of our mere free will, and so they have only the perfection which is in the virtues themselves; or besides our will, we may add the obligation of Vow, & this bringeth with it the perfection of a State; because no man can be in state of perfection, that retaineth freedom of doing, or not doing. Now the necessity which a State doth bring, is so far from diminishing Perfection, that it doth wonderfully increase and perfect it; because of a temporal thing, it maketh it to be eternal, & of ours, Divine, dedicating not only the action, but the will to God, and offering it fully and wholly unto him, slain in a most noble Sacrifice: which Will being a good inestimable, so near to man and so dear, that in regard of it he contemneth all other things, the gift thereof must needs be most acceptable, and most pleasing to God. Wherefore as he that hath both use and possession of any thing, doth possess that thing more perfectly, than he that hath the bare use of it; so he that offereth to God not his work only, but his free will, doth give himself more perfectly unto him. Thus saith S. Bonaventure.  
3. An other thing of great consideration is, that whereas the chiefest commendation of our works dependeth of our will, as of the root from whence they spring, the better our will is, the better also are our works, and the more commendable. And doubtless among many qualities of a good will, it is none of the least, that it be firm, settled, constant, and perpetual, and far from that which holy Scripture finds fault with, 
Prou 13 4. Aristotle. 2. Eth. 4.  saying; The slothful man will, and will not. Insomuch that Aristotle was also of opinion, that Virtue must work firmly, and immovably, as he speaketh; and we may gather it to be so, 
They that vow, are like the Blessed in ●eauen.  by the contrarie. For as it is i'll, to do evil out of frailty, or out of weakness of judgement; but much worse, to do it out of a perverse obstinate will of committing sin, and persisting in it: so all acts of Virtue are good and laudable, but certainly they are without comparison better, which are done with a more deliberate and settled resolution; and as they that are so maliciously evil, are like to the Devil, and the damned with him, who can not be won from their perverseness: so the others are like the Blessed in heaven, whose will is so tied to that which is good, that it can never depart from it.  
4. And what means is there to settle and tie our will, but by a firm and solemn promise, which may last for ever? For there be bonds to bind the body; and bonds to bind the soul; but with this difference, that our bodies may be bound whether we will or no, and by the like violence the bonds may be knockt-of again; our mind and soul cannot be bound, unless it bind itself; and having bound itself, it is neither in our own, nor in any humane power to unbind it.  
5. And the greatness of this benefit will be the more evident, if we consider on the one side, our own infirmity, & on the other side the bold obstinacy of the Devil in oppugning us, both in their kind being very great. Wherefore there can not possibly be a more necessary defence than a Vow and promise; 
The power of a Vow, to defend.  in regard our frailty is thereby strengthened, and his attempts barred. For as suitors, when they see that the maid, whom they made love to, is married to an other, turn their thoughts another way; so when our ghostly enemies see us espoused to God, they lose their hope of entangling us again in earthly things; and therefore leave to solicit us, lest to their own greater torment they increase our crown. And what could be more fit to hold our will fast and steady (it being naturally so frail and slippery) then the obligation of Vow? For it doth not persuade or move us only, but it forceth us; as S. Bernard doth insinuate in these words: A happy necessity, which, as a holy man saith, forceth to the better. The holy man, whose name S. Bernard concealeth, 
S. Bernard de precep. & disp S. August. Ep. 48.  is S. Augustin. For in his Epistle to Armentarius he speaketh thus: Do not repent thee that thou hast vowed; rather be glad that now thou canst not do that, which before thou couldst to thy loss. Set upon it therefore with undaunted courage; and by thy deeds▪ make thy words good. He will assist, who desireth our vows. It is a happy necessity; which forceth to the better. Wherefore as we tie vines and tender sprigs to strong stakes in the ground, to hold them upright; so if men did know, how weak and unconstant they are by nature, they would easily see, that nothing can be more for their soul's salvation, then to fasten to God this will of theirs so frail and pliable, and settle it by promise of Vow perpetually in his service. We read in Genesis, that Isaac was bound when he was to be sacrificed; and doubtless he was willing to it; 
Gen. 22.  otherwise it could not have been done, his father being an old man, and Isaac in the prime of his youth and strength. Wherefore seeing he was so willing, as his consenting thereunto doth testify; what was the reason, why the father▪ thought it fit to bind the son, or the son would have himself bound? Doubtless to the end his good will being bound in the same bonds his hands were, it might not afterward withdraw itself upon any trouble or chance that might happen. Wherefore it was not out of fear, but out of courage; neither was his will therefore the colder, but the more constant, and so very resolute, as to provide, that he might ever have the same will, and never be able to contrary it.  
6. In like manner in every Commonwealth there be laws to keep men in order, and in some special cases of greater consequence they exact an oath; as when they leavy soldiers, make Officers, marry, or treat among themselves almost of any other business of moment, for buying and selling, and the like, it is the practice of all nations to conclude it by some form of oath; making account that by this means they provide sufficiently for their own and others constancy and assurance; yet th●se are but natural and humane things, which Nature itself hath strength enough to compass, and the Devil doth not much busi● himself in opposing them. Much more necessary therefore and behooveful are the bonds we speak of, as in matters so far above our natural ability, that it is wonderful hard to go forward with them, wonderful easy to fail and give back; so that we have great reason to say with the Prophet David: I have s●orne and resolved to keep the judgements of thy justice.. 
Ps. 118.116.   
7. Moreover by this channel, as I may call it, of the Vows, Grace doth flow more plentiful into our souls: 
Vows, a means to increase grace.  both because our so liberal offer doth stir up God to be more liberal towards us, and because, as a vessel that is plunged over head and cares in water, so our soul thus plunged, as I may say, in that infinite Goodness, and so nearly linked to it, must needs be replenished with all kinds of heavenly gifts; and finally because, being by Vow registered and enrolled among the goods and possessions of God, what he bestoweth upon us, he bestoweth in a manner upon himself, which doubtless makes him the freer in his gifts.  
8. But to establish this doctrine of the benefit of Vows uncontroulably, we must take away the error of some ignorant people, 
A vow doth make the act more voluntary;  who think that a Vow taketh from the dignity and worth of a good deed; because if a thing be done without Vow, it is voluntarily done; if by Vow, it is necessary. But they mistake the name of necessity; and do not reflect, that there is a natural necessity, and a voluntary necessity: natural necessity barreth freedom and power to choose, 
And more meritorious.  such as is in a stone, or in a beast; and nothing which is done after this manner, can deserve reward or commendation; the same is, when by outward violence a man is compelled to do any thing. But the necessity which ariseth of an obligation voluntarily undergone, doth not lessen the merit of the work, but increase it; for both the work is voluntary, and also the obligation, being entered and continued upon a set will and purpose. What shall we say then, if a man repent him of his Vow; and be unwilling to perform it? In this case, the distinction which S. Thomas giveth, 
S. Thomas. Op. 18 c. 12.  must take place; to wit, that the matter of the Vow may be distasteful to us, and yet the Vow please us; as if a man have made a vow that he will fast; and fasting begins to be troublesome and irksome unto him, and consequently he fasts unwillingly and with trouble of mind; and yet because his vow binds him, he will fast; this is enough not only to make that he do not sin; but merit more than if he fasted without vow. Which S. Anselm doth illustrate with this example: 
S. Anselm l. 1. Somol.  Ofttimes (saith he) we see, that if a man be to be out, he will have himself first bound, and protests besides, that he will not be unbound, though he should desire it; wherefore if it happen afterwards, that overcome with pain he cry out to be unbound, the Chirurgeon goeth on, till the cure be done, and then the Patient himself is glad, that they did not give ear unto him; and his cutting cures him, though he was then unwilling to abide it; but indeed, when he cried out, he repined not at the cure, but at the sharpness thereof. In like manner, when a man in the beginning doth willingly put his neck under the yoke of Religion, and will be under another to be cured by him, if afterwards he meet with any thing from which his will hath aversion, he abides it, because he is bound; and that very medicine doth him good, though it be taken with not so good a will; and it gives him health, which he would have refused, if he had been free; and when his sickness is gone, he is glad he could do no other. Thus saith S. Anselm.  
9 Wherefore seeing (as I have showed) there cannot be a straighter bond to tie us to God, 
God particularly bound to them that bind themselves to him by Vow.  than the bond of Vow, we may easily discover, how many commodities do accrue unto us out of it, both in regard it binds us to be constant, and never at no time, nor for no temptation, to flinch away from him; and because it cannot be, but that we should receive from God many other unspeakable benefits, by reason of so near connexion with him. For, as if a man be bound to a post, the post is also bound to him, so he that binds himself to God, obligeth in a manner God to himself, and (as I said) all his goods and heavenly treasures, with him. So that we may justly make account, that this is one of the special fountains of Grace, which we have in Religion, whereby many other spiritual gifts are derived unto us; light to understand, fervor to embrace, strength to execute that which is good, and finally ability to run in the way of God with joy and gladness of ha●t, which must needs redound unto us from the Father of lights, the Father of all consolation, being bound to him, and he to us, with that triple cord, which is not easily broken.  
10. Wherefore with great reason doth the holy-ghost exhort and invite us, willingly to put ourselves into these bonds of wisdom in these words: 
Eccl. 6.25.  Put thy foot into the shackles thereof, and thy neck into the collar; floope thy shoulder and carry it, and be not weary in the bonds thereof. Happy chains, and bonds to be wished, which therefore holy Scripture termeth, not chains, but collars or necklaces, adorning rather then binding the neck; for they are not of iron, hard, and servile, but of gold, noble, and pleasing; not burdened, but honouring him that beareth them; not barring, but rather enlarging and establishing our freedom.   

The nineteenth fruit: A safe and quiet death. CHAP. XXXI.  
THE benefits, of which we have hitherto spoken, are very great; yet what would they all avail us, if our life full fraught with virtue and heavenly gifts, as a ship laden with rich merchandise, should at the hour of death, as it were, in the mouth of the haven, suffer shipwreck? Wherefore to make all things sure and everlasting, Religious people have this privilege among the rest, that they are armed for death, with many special helps and comforts, which is worthily to be reckoned among the greatest commodities it hath.  
2. Three things are dreadful at the hour of death. For first, death itself is mightily distasteful, and (as the Wiseman saith) bitter; yea, the only memory thereof is very grievous; 
Three things d●●idful at the ho●re of death.  secondly it is dangerous, in regard the Devil is then most busy and violent in tempting us, and soundeth a man on every side; thirdly it is the more terrible, in regard of the dreadful doom that follows; which (as S. Gregory speaketh) the nearer ●● do in a manner touch it, 
E●cl. 4.24 moral. c. 28.  the more we fear it. Religion takes away all these things, and gives us pleasure, in steed of bitterness; security, in steed of danger▪ assured hope, in steed of excessive fear. And if we do but consider what passeth ordinarily among men, we shall see it evidently to be so. For that which is wont to grieve men most at that time, is to leave their wealth, honour, pleasures, commodities, their wife and children, their brethren and kinsfolk, and their dearest friends; finally soul and body must pa●te, having lived so long and so lovingly together. In Religion almost none of all this is to be found. 
Religion free from all three.  For when they forsook the world, they left all outward things, wealth, and honour, and all carnal propinquieie; so that they are in a manner the only men that are wholly free from this manifold vexation, which doth so trouble wordly people. They grieve not for loss of riches; the loathness of leaving their children under age, doth not lie heavy upon them, not the ca●e of their future welfare; they are not troubled how to make their will, or dispose of their families, or prevent losses, which oftimes befall housekeepers. Which happiness of Religious people, 
S. john 〈◊〉 Home 14. in 1. Tim.  S. john Chrysostom doth curiously set forth in a certain Homily, wherein he writeth many other things also in commendation of this course: It is very true (saith he) that they die among them, for their bodies are not immortal; but they do not make account, than: death is death. They sing Hymns when any do depart; and they call it not a burial, but a pomp, or procession, and a sending of one of their company before them; yea they dare not say, the man is dead, but consummate. Therefore they give thanks, and glory, and rejoice, every one desiring the like passage, to leave the field in the same manner, to rest from their labour and toil, to see Christ. And when they are sick, their wife doth not stand by, with her hair in her eyes, not their little children lamenting the want which they shall shortly find of their parents; nor their servants wearying them at the last gasp with their untimely requests, to leave them commended to some body after death: but free from all these rubs, their soul is wholly bend upon this one thought, how it may give-up the last breath to God, in greater grace.  
2. This therefore, if we will believe S. Chrysostome, is to be reckoned among the fruits of leaving all in time with joy and merit, 
The parting of soul and body grieveth not Religious people.  that at the last hour they may not torment and vex us, when else of necessity we must leave them, to our great grief and no merit. Wherefore if any thing can trouble Religious people at that how●e, it is the loss of their life. But of this loss also, they have but little feeling; for Religion doth so accustom the mind to leave the body, that even while it is in the body, it is for the most part out of it, busy in the love of God, & the desire of heavenly things. For as th●se that gave themselves over to carnal pleasure, or the care of any worldly business, have their minds so carried away upon them, that they seem to beset 〈◊〉 in the same 〈◊〉, as I may term it, of which those things are made: so chose, they that live chaste and entire, and curb the flesh, and bring it under, and withal busy their mind in holy exercises, and settle it upon spiritual things, are not much molested by the corruption of the body, but rather, as S. Paul speaketh, 
Phil. 3.20.  their conversation is in heaven; And consequently death being nothing but a separation of the body from the soul (which Religious people do practise all their life) they are not to begin to dye, when the soul is departing, but they went about it long before, and were always dying; by which means they are not troubled at the time of death, as if they were to abide some hard and unwonted thing. It helpeth also, that they part not with a life, that hath many things to hold them with delight in it (which is one of the chiefest causes, why people love this life) but rather a life, wherein they suffer many incommodities by poverty, watching, and paynes-taking, much mortification of their senses and will, which are as so many spurs quickening our souls to desire more ardently eternal rest, and more cheerfully to embrace it, 
A Religious man's life is a continual preparation for death.  when it is at hand. Besides, they come not suddenly and unprovided to that hour; but they both soresaw daily, that it might happen, by reason of the common frailty of our nature, and wished daily for it, because they desire to appear in the sight of God, and their whole life is but one good preparation for death, as a certain Franciscan-Friar said truly of late years in the Indies. For after he had long laboured in those countries very painfully, sickening, and being advised by the Physicians to prepare himself for death, he spoke thus: I have done nothing else all the while, I have worn this Habit, but prepared myself for this passage. The same all Religious people do; for the State itself doth direct them to do no other, but, as our Lord commanded, expect his coming with their loins girt, 
Luc. 12.15. S Greg. hom. 13. in Euang.  and burning lights in their hands; which S. Gregory interpreteth to be Chastity, and continual practice of good works, both which are principally found in Religion.  
3. Now as for the assaults and temptations of the Devil, wherewith every body is troubled at his death, 
Religious people free from temptation at the hour of death.  thus much we may truly say, that if there be any man that is not troubled at all or very little with them, any man that doth resist them and overcome them, it is a Religious man. For first it belongeth to the goodness of God, not to leave him at his death, upon whom in his life-time he heaped so many great gifts and graces; somewhat also it belongeth to his justice, to defend and protect him, that, during life, served him, and fought for his honour. Wherefore we ought not to doubt, but that he that is our strength and stability, will assist us most of all in that dangerous and fearful combat. and in time of need enlighten our understanding, and give us courage, wipe away all fear; and teach our hands and fingers to wage war, compass us round, and cover us with the shield of his good pleasure, and with inward comforts strengthen our mind, and fill it with assured hope of eternal salvation; which being so, what crowns and kingdoms can be compared with this benefit? And no man can think, but that it must needs be well bestowed, not only that he forsook this one world, but if there were infinite worlds to leave, that he alone had left them all, to the end that in such a fearful passage, he might have such assured comfort and defence.  

The comfortable assistance of our Brethren at the hour of death.  4. To this we may add the comfort which every one receiveth by the assistance of his brethren, their exhortations, counsel, and continual prayers; which always, but chiefly at the point of death, are very powerful to encourage us, and to abate the fierce assaults of the enemy. We learn this by example of a young man, called Theodore, of whom S. Gregory relateth, that having lived in his Monastery somewhat wantonly, like a boy, he fell sick, and was brought to the last cast; and while diverse of the Monks stood by, 
S. Gr●g. 4. dial c. ●7. & Home 38. in Euang.  praying for him, he began to cry out, as if he were desperate, to get them gone. For he was (as he said) delivered to a dragon, to be devoured by him; and their being present hindered him. Whereupon they fell presently upon their knees, and prayed more earnestly for him; and soon after the sick man now quite, and cheerful, affirmed that the Devil was gone, 
Two memorable examples.  vanquished and put to flight by their prayers.  
5. The like passage, though somewhat more fearful, is recorded of Cuno Lord of Malburch; who after he had spent in the world almost forty years, living for the most part after a worldly fashion, betook himself to Religion; where when he had lived some three years, he made a happy end. At which time the Devil, by the mouth of a woman, whom he had possessed, told that he and fifteen thousand more of his crew (for so many he said they were) came to this Cuno's Celle, when he lay dying; but could not hurt him, nor so much as come near him, by reason of the loud cries of those bald-crowned fellows, that stood by his bedside (for so the enemy of God termed God's servants and their prayers in scorn) And he complained further, that God had done him great injury, in regard that whereas Cuno had served the Devil's forty years, and God but three, yet he spared him from the pains of hell, and carried him to Heaven. Whereby we may plainly see the force of Religion.  
6. It remaineth that we speak of the hope of salvation, which I said was in Religion very assured. 
Hope of Salvation more assured.  Two things cause this assurance in a Religious man: first, not to be guilty in his conscience of any grievous sin; secondly, the memory of the abundance of good deeds of his former life; both which cannot fail in a Religious course. For we are not here troubled with merchant's accounts, nor with obscure and ambiguous forms of conveyances, nor with worldly ambition, nor such like occasions of sinning: On the other side, we have much matter of patience, and continual occasion of practising other virtues, whereof I have spoken at large before. Wherefore S. Hierome saith excellently well to this purpose, writing to julian, and exhorting him to Religion in these words: Happy is the man and worthy of all blessedness, 
S: Hierome ●p 34.  whom old age doth overtake serving Christ, whom the last day shall find fight under our Saviour, who shall not be confounded when he shall speak to his enemies in the gate, 
S. Bernard ●p.. 103.  to whom in the entrance of Paradise it shall be said: Thou hast received ●l things in thy life, but now rejoice here. S. Bernard also pressing Romanus to break with the world, followeth the same strain. The just man also (saith he) dyeth, yet securely; his death being a passage from this present life, and an entrance into a better life. It is a good death▪ to dye to sin, that thou mayst live to justice.. This death must necessarily go before, that a secure death may follow. While thou livest in flesh, die to the world; that after the death of the flesh, thou mayst begin to live to God. 
ad mil. templin  And again in another place: O secure life, where there is a pure conscience! O secure life, I say, where we may abide death without fear, yea desire it with pleasure, and welcome it with devotion!  
7. Wherefore me thinks, we may with reason understand that voice, which S. john heard in the apocalypse, 
Apoc. 14.13  chiefly of Religious people: Blessed are the dead, who die in our Lord; 
S. Bernard Ep. 21●.  because (as S. Bernard discourseth) Martyrs dye for our Lord, Confessors die in our Lord. For as he that was never at Rome, cannot dye at Rome; so he that lived not in God▪ cannot dye in God; and on the other side, he that while he lived was friends with God, shall also dye in God. And who liveth more in God, than he that hath nothing else on earth to live in? And it followeth consequently, that their works follow them, and remain not behind them in earth, as the works of Secular people, that have spent their life in earthly labour. And doubtless it must needs be an unspeakable benefit, to be able at a time, when every body else is in such fearful danger, and with fear and trembling expecteth his judge and doom, to look death in the face, not only without fear, but with joyful eyes, and a mind cheerful and confident, as if they heard a voice inviting them as workmen to receive their hire, or as good and faithful servants, to ●●ter into the joy of their Lord, or as a Bride invited to the bed of the Bridegroom in these words: 
Cant. 4.8.  Rise, make haste (my beloved) come from L●banus; then shalt be crowned. For thus they are called from Libanus, that is, from the Mountain of perfection, in which they lived, to a crown answerable to so great perfection.  
8. This is the cause, 
Memorable examples of happy deaths.  why a certain Franciscan-Friar, burning with excessive pain of his whole body, found no better ease of his pain, than himself to sing Divine praises, and to hear others sing them; and being reprehended therefore by Friar Helias saying: that it might beseem him better to bestow that last hour in tears and penance, answered, that he could not do otherwise, because he knew he was shortly to be with God.  
9 S. Gregory in his Dialogues relateth many examples of this nature; 
S. Greg 4. dial c. 47.  but that which he telleth of one Antony, a Monk of his own Monastery, is pleasant to hear. This Antony had warning in his sleep to prepare himself to dye; but out of his humility answering, that he was not provided for the journey, it was told him again, that if it were his sins that he misdoubted, he should not need to fear, because they were forgiven. But yet he still fearing and quaking, the next night he heard the same voice, and the same warning wa● given him. Five days after, he fell into a fever; and dying in the midst of his Brethren, with assured hope of eternal salvation, went joyfully to receive it.  
10. He writeth of another called Merulus, a man very fervent and devout; who on a time saw, as if a white crow had come from heaven, and rested upon his head. Presently after he sickened, and with great cheerfulness gave up his soul to God. Some fourteen years after, they chanced to dig near his grave, and there came forth such a fragrant smell out of it, as if it had been full of sweet spices and flowers. This and much more we have by relation of S. Gregory.  

S. Nicolas Tol●n●●n●●  11. It is recounted of S. Nicolas Tolentinas, that six whole months before his death, he heard every night a little before Matins, a most delicate consort of Angels singing, and giving him as it were a taste of the life to come. How ardently then may we think he did desire that life, to the pleasures whereof he was so pleasantly invited? He himself can tell us; for he had often in his mouth that saying of the Apostle: I covet to be dissolved, 
Phil. 1.23.  and to be with Christ. And at the instant of his death, he began to express in his voice and speech, great joy and gladness; and his Brethren, that were present, ask him the cause of that unwonted joy, he answered, as if he were amazed and scarce present to himself: My Lord JESUS CHRIST leaning upon his blessed M●ther, and our Father S. Augustin saith unto me: Welfare thee, good and faithful servant, enter into the joy of thy Lord; with which words he gave up the ghost.  

Reginaldus.  12. Reginaldus, one of S. Dominicks scholars, having warning to prepare himself to the last combat with the Devil by Extremevnction, as it is the use among Christians, answered thus: I fear not this combat; rather I wait for it with joy; for long ago did the Mother of mercy anoint me, in whom I have great confidence, and to whom I desire to go. Now that he saith, he was anointed before by our Blessed Lady, it happened thus: Many years before being very sick, the Queen of heaven appeared one night unto him, while he was awake, with two other Virgins in her company; and coming to him, anointed his eyes, his ears, his lips, and his hands, with an ointment which she brought, and with her own hand as he lay, and also his feet in preparation of the Gospel, as she said, praying as it were out of a book.  

Adulphus.  13. The like favour she showed to Adulphus a Franciscan-Friar, who foregoing the Princedom of Alsaria, lead an humble life in that holy Family; and coming to dye, this universal Patroness and Mother of all Religious people, came unto him, accompanied with infinite troops of Angels; and finding him fearful, encouraged him in this manner: Son, what dost thou fear? or why art thou troubled at the coming of death? Come boldly; because my Son, whom thou hast served faithfully, will give thee a crown of glory.  

S. Bernard ● 26. in Cā●.  14. We see also what S. Bernard saith of his brother Gerard, who at midnight, and almost at his last breath, broke forth in these words of the Psalm: Praise God from heaven, praise God on high. It was then, o Brother (saith S. Bernard) day with thee, at midnight; and night was lightened as the day. I was called to this miracle, to behold a dying man rejoicing, and bragging over death: Death where is thy victory? Death where is thy sting? It is now no sting, but a gladness, now a man dyeth singing, and singeth dying.  
15. And the like examples of such as dye most quiet and sweet deaths, and with much expression of excessive joy, even in the flower of their youth, when life is sweetest, happen daily without number in all Religious Orders. Truly in ours, 
Examples of cheerful dying, in our Society.  though it be the last, and the least, partly I myself have seen many, and partly have had by relation of others, that have seen them; as of one, who being told that he was to look shortly for death, did for very joy embrace him thrice that told him of it. Another having had the like message, did what he could to sing the Hymn Te Deum, with great signs of joy, though his voice and strength were almost quite spent. Another, when he was giving up the ghost, began to sing that verse of the Psalm: I have rejoiced in the things that have been said unto me; we shall go into the house of our Lord. I might relate many more, but because I will not be tedious, I will content myself with one.  
16. William Elsinston, 
William Elsinston.  borne in Scotland, of good extraction, rare for virtue and wit, was admitted into our Society, a very youth. Not a full month after, he fell into a burning fever, which brought death into his face, but yet was always wonderful cheerful, and showed it in his speeches and countenance, and in whatsoever he did, thinking he could never thank God enough, that he died in Religion. When he began to draw on, his Brethren flocked into the room where he lay, and seeing them he cried out: O glorious death attended by so many Angels! And expressing exceeding joy, he said further; Do you not see, do you not see the Angels? And calling upon▪ is good Angel, he spoke with him for a while, as if he had beheld him with his eyes; and related, that he told him, he should pass through Purgatory, but not stay long there. Whereupon one asked him, in what shape he saw his Angel, and he pointed at a youth that stood by, and said: He was like him. Soon after, his soul was so overioyed, that his body did as it were leap upon the bed, as he lay, weakened, as he was, with a deadly sickness, to the great admiration of the standers by, who had never seen the like; and turning his eyes back to the bed's head, with cheerful countenance, and muttering something which could not be understood, he showed, that he saw something that did give him great contentment; amidst whereof suddenly stopping, he gave up the ghost, as if he had laid himself down to sleep. What can be more happy, or more desireful, than such a death? Or who is there, that, were he to choose, had not rather dye such a death, then as Princes are wont to dye in their Royal palaces, in their Beds-of-state, in their silks and purple garments, amidst their servants and retinue? And certainly, this young man being but a Novice, came not to so sweet an end, and so, easy a combat with the enemy, and so happy a passage out of this life, by long exercise of virtue, and strong habits thereof; but if any cause can be given thereof, it must needs be the force of Religion itself, and the grace of God chiefly-bestowed upon him in that plenty, in regard of Religion; so that by this one example we may evidently see, how far more securely and more sweetly this last act of warfare (as job doth call it) is shutup in a Religious state.   

The twentieth fruit: that it is a sign of Predestination. CHAP. XXXII.  
THE Kingdom of Heaven is so infinite a happiness, and the pains of hell so infinite a mischief, that whosoever believes them, should in reason have no other care, nor fear, then lest he lose the one, and fall into the other; specially seeing they so necessarily follow one upon the other. Insomuch that if God had revealed, that among all the men that are, or ever were, and shall be, one among them all should be damned to hel-fire, every one might justly live in continual fear and trembling, lest he might be that unhappy and unfortunate man, upon whom that dreadful lot should fall. But now seeing God hath so often, and so certainly, and so plainly told us, that many walk the broad way of perdition, 
M●th. 7.13.  few findout the way of salvation, what care, and circumspection, and fear, ought every one to stand in?  
2. In which so just occasion of fear, we cannot in this life have a greater comfort, 
Without hope of predestination there is no comfort.  then to light upon some signs of our eternal salvation and predestination. For S. Bernard saith truly: When doth God leave his Elect without some sign? or what comfort could they have, standing doubtful, betwixt hope and fear, if they were not worthy of some testimony of their Election? God knoweth who are his; and he alone knoweth whom he hath chosen from the beginning; 
S. Bernard inoct. pas●h. ser. 2.  but among men who is there that knoweth, whether he be worthy of love or hatred? Wherefore seeing it is certain, that we can have no certainty in this kind; if we may at least meet with some signs of our Election, will not all things be more delightful to us? For what rest can our spirit have, so long as it hath no hope of predestination?  
3. This then is the fruit of a Religious state; and truly none of the least, that it gives us so certain a hope, 
Signs of Predestination in Religion.  and so clear a sign of our predestination, that, without express revelation, we cannot have a greater. For first we have the sign, which our Saviour himself giveth, when he saith: He that is of God, heareth the words of God. Whereupon S. Bernard elsewhere speaking to the Monks of his Order, 
Io. 8.47.  biddeth them be of good cheer, having reason to believe they are of the number of the Elect, because they hear the word of God so willingly, 
S. Bernard s. 1. Septuag.  and with so great fruit. And this is natural to the state of Religion. For their chief and continual food is whatsoever proceedeth from the mouth of God; receiving it by prayer, meditation, and reading of good books, and principally by giving ear to that word of God, which called them out of Egypt to his Divine service. For the hearing and obeying of this word alone, is a great sign of their predestination, 
Io. 10.16.  by that reason of our Saviour: My sheep hear my voice; though indeed they did not then only give ear unto it, and follow it, when they forsook the world, but do continually hearken unto it, remaining in Religion upon command of that voice, and spending all their life in doing according to his voice delivered unto them by obedience; so that none can have more right, than they, to that saying of our Saviour: Blessed are they that hear the word of God, 
Luc. 11.28.  and keep it.  
4. There be other signs of Predestination, whereof S. Bernard discourseth at large speaking to his Brethren, 
S. Bernard s. 2. in oct. Pasch.  and draweth them at last to these three heads: If (saith he) thou refrain from sin; if thou do worthy fruits of penance; if thou work works of life. All which three can they be better, more perfectly, or more plentifully performed, then in Religion? or where are they to be found, if not in Religion? And of every one of them I have spoken sufficiently heretofore.  
5. Another special token and full of comfort is given us by our Saviour, as an evident sign of eternal salvation, or damnation, in these words: The way which leads to perdition, 
Matth. 7.13.  is broad and spacious; and chose how narrow is the gate, and the way straight, which leads to life? S. Gregory doth tell us in plain terms, 
S. Greg. 32. mor. ●. 17.  that this narrow gate and way, is Religion. What is more narrow to a man's mind, then to break his own will? Of which breaking, Truth itself saith: Enter by the narrow gate. And what can be more broad and wide than never to strive against his own will, but to suffer himself to be carried without restraint, whither-soever the motion of his will doth lead him? For these and the like causes, 
S. Laurence justin. de pers●mon. con. 7.  Religion is a very certain sign of predestination, insomuch that S. Laurence justinian saith: Whosoever hath been called to the Congregation of the Just, let him assuredly hope to enter that heavenly Hierusa●em after the end of this pilgrimage. For it is a great sign of Election, to have the company of such a Brotherhood: and he that is severed from this, will be easily shut out of that.  
6. But why should we stand upon conjectures, or upon reasons in this ma●ter seeing we have a plain promise of our Saviour? 
Eternal life promised to Religious.  Every one, saith he, that shall leave father, or mother, or brethren, or house, or lands for me, shall receive a hundred-fold, and possess life everlasting. This S. Matthew, S. Mark, & S. Luke do deliver almost in the selfsame words; 
Matt. 19 29  which may be an argument, that the Holy Ghost would have it particularly known for a most certain truth, 
Mar 10 ●1.  Of the hundred-fold, 
Lu●. 18.29.  which pertains to this life, I will treat elsewhere, when I shall speak of the pleasantness of a Religious state; now I will only speak of the promise of everlasting life, as an evident token of Predestination. And we may consider, who it is that maketh this promise, what it is that is promised, and in what words. He that maketh the promise, is God, Truth itself, who cannot mistake, nor be changed, nor forget, nor be hindered from performing wha● he will and hath said. Wherefore to speak in terms used commonly among men Religious people having our saviour's own hand to show at the Barie and tribunal-seate of God, whereupon they may argue their Case with God, as job speaketh, and demand eternal glory by virtue thereof, they cannot desire any better assurance. But they will not be brought to such an exigent; for the same infinite goodness, which moved him to pass the promise, will move him to perform and accomplish it more fully, then be promised.  
7. The terms wherein the promise is couched, are large and pregnant: Every one that shall leave these things. This word of itself is so express and general, that it comprehendeth all, no man excepted; that the Devil may not have any ground to cavil, nor any Religious man to mistrust. And yet S. L●k● speaketh more signally: 
Luc. 18.29.  There is no man that hath left house, or parents, or brethren, for the kingdom of God, and doth not receive much more in this life, and in the world to come, life everlasting. Wherefore certainly no man is excluded from the promise, neither poor, nor rich, nor noble, nor mean; neither he that hath left much, nor he that hath left little, so he leave all he had; finally he is not excluded, that being called but at the Ninth hour, had but a short time to labour in the Vinyard.  
8. It is true, that Life everlasting is promised to many Virtues, as to Meekness, Poverty of spirit, Humility, and above all to Charity, which never saileth, 
1. Cor. 13.8.  as the Apostle speaketh; yet all this is uncertain and doubtful. For who knoweth, whether he love as he ought, and upon the right ground of charity, which is also necessary? And the like may be said almost of all virtues, which lying hidden within our souls, can hardly be perceived; and a man can hardly think he hath them, without danger of flattering himself, and of presumption; so that all our hopes are doubtful. But it is otherwise in this one act of a Religious man, which hath the promise of so great a reward annexed unto it. For this act is not doubtful, obscure, or hidden, but plain and manifest to be seen with our very corporal eyes, that possibly the fact cannot be questioned, nor the reward, if we sail not in our intention, and persever therein to the end.  
9 That which is promised, is Life Everlasting, that is to say, a most complete happiness, full of bliss, and of all good things that can be desired, immortal, everlasting; which our Saviour calleth Life, because indeed, that is the only true life, which the soul shall then live, when free from this lump of flesh, or the flesh itself being made spiritual, pure, and entire, it shall see God face to face, as he is; and shall be itself transformed into his brightness. That is promised, which containeth all things that can be desired, & in truth more is promised then thou●ht of men can conceive, or with for, or understand. How high therefore ought we in reason to value this hope so assured, and this promise of Christ, who is Lord of this life and glory, and a promise confirmed with a kind of oath.  

S. Antony of Milan. The esteem that ought to be made of Predestination.  10. We read of S. Antony of Milan, that it was revealed unto him, that a certain Layman (who at that time was of no great good life) was one of the Elect. Whereupon the Saint did carry himself towards him with so much respect and reverence, that every one did wonder at it; and the Lay man himself was angry, and did in a manner threaten him. But the Saint answered, he could do no other than worship him on earth, whom he knew to be predestinated to so great glory.  

S. Francis  11. And S. Francis once in a trance being assured of his predestination, when he came to himself, cried out: My Lord God be praised, glory and honour to him without end. And for eight days he could not speak of any other thing, nor so much as say his Breviarie, but was still repeating these words: My Lord God be praised. For his soul was over-ioyed with so happy tidings; and not without great reason. Wherefore seeing S. Francis did so infinitely rejoice at this kind of promise, and all others in like manner, to whom it hath been made; what account shall a Religious man make of the same? For betwixt the two promises, there is but this one difference, that the one is made to particular men, the other to the State. And what matter is it, so we leave not the State, and live according unto it? The like we see happeneth among men. For Kings and Princes grant certain privileges and liberties to particular men, and certain to places; which comes all to one, because the men enjoy them so long as they live in those places, as freely, as if they had been granted particularly to themselves, & they are put to no other care or trouble for it, but that they remain in those places. What greater comfort therefore can we have, or desi●● in this our pilgrimage, or rather banishment?  
12. The Apostles came on a time to our Saviour, rejoicing that in his name the Devils did obey them. 
Luc. 10.20  Our Saviour made answer: Rejoice not in this, but rejoice, because your names be w●itten in heaven. In my opinion, the same may be said of Religious men; let others rejoice in their wealth, or in the favour they are in wi●h men, or in the preferments which they hope for, or have already gotten; we have a far greater and better ground of rejoicing, that we have so certain a sign & token to persuade us, & make us verily believe, as indeed we ought, that our names are written in the Book of Life, drawn in the breast of Almighty God, 
The grace of Predestination a fountain of benefits.  with the blood of the Lamb; which benefit is not reserved merely for the world to come, but is the very fountain and offspring of all other benefits, which in this life are bestowed upon us. For, as the Apostle writeth, whom God hath predestinated, these ●e hath called; and having called them, 
Rom. 8.30.  he confirmeth and strengtheneth them, and multiplieth his guilts upon them; he defends them from the assaults of the Enemy, either keeping him quite off, or giving grace that they may make benefit of the temptation; finally, he ordereth all things that concern them either inwardly or outwardly, in that manner, that they turn all to their good; and it falleth out, 
Io. 17.11.  as our Saviour a little before his passion said to his Father: Whom thou hast given me, I have not lost of them; 
Sap. ●.  because (as another Scripture saith) the souls of 〈◊〉 lust are in the hand of God; and no power under God can wrest them from him. Wherefore seeing Predestination doth comprehend all these things, look how much assurance Religion doth give us of our predestination, so much also it giveth us of all the rest.  
13. And as it worketh these things with God, so on our part it maketh us to love God the more, 
What Predestination worketh in us.  in regard he hath loved us with so great and so ancient love, before the Creation of the world, and from all Eternity; it maketh us also contemn and loathe all earthly things, as being fully possessed, that the heavenly glory, and those infinite treasures, through the goodness of God, are due unto us. and laid up for us. For, as a young Prince, that is bred up to a Kingdom, takes great pleasure in that hope, to which he is borne, and it breeds a kind of Majesty in him, and greatness of spirit, that he disdains all inferior things: so we also considering, that we are ordained for that heavenly kingdom, must needs with a generous and noble hart disdain all the fair offers of the world, as not beseeming our worth; and so much the rather, because a young Prince may be cutof from his hopes by many chances; but they that are chosen by God, cannot be put by it by any force o● misfortune.   

The one and twentieth fruit: God's special care and protection. CHAP. XXXIII.  

A memorable example of S. Francis.  WE read that S. Francis, when he had founded his Order, and that it began to spread, being very careful to advance it in all sanctity of life and Regular discipline, if any thing happened contrary, or that God did reveal unto him any sinister accident, that was to fall out hereafter, was wont to give himself so to weeping and grief, that it was like to cost him his life. Wherefore being once at his prayers, commending this his Family with great earnestness to God, our Saviour is said to have spoken to him these comfortable words: Francis, why dost thou trouble and vex thyself, when any of thy Friars do leave their Order, or commit any scandalous thing in it? Dost thou take thyself to be sole governor of this flock, and that I am not also governor of it, higher than thou? Who planted it but I? or who calls men to penuance, or gives them strength to persever when they are called, but I? I brought them hither; I will stay them, and keep them▪ If they fall, I will raise others in their place. Wherefore I directly command thee, that hereafter thou torment not thyself so much, but know that I love this Family; and if one return to his vomit, I will raise another in his place, that shall have his crown; and if he be not yet borne, I will cause that he shall be borne; and if there remain but three in it, I will not therefore ever leave it, but it shall be always my Family Thus spoke our Saviour to S. Francis; and the like we may imagine, and indeed aught to believe of all other Religious Orders, their cause being the same. Wherefore it must needs be a special commodity of Religion; that it is thus particularly guarded and protected by Almighty God, from whose wisdom and knowledge nothing can be hidden, whose infinite power nothing can withstand; so that those whom he doth undertake to protect, 
Reasons, why God hath particular ●a●e of Religious 〈◊〉.  must needs do well.  
2. Now there be many reasons, which may move God to undertake the protection of Religious Families; and first of all that which himself gave to S. Francis, tha● he is the Author of them. He laid the grounds of these Institutes; he calleth every one that entereth into them; he alone gives them their good desires, and grace, and assistance to persever. Wherefore as a father doth love and take care of his son, and a workman of his work; so God doth love and take care of this so fair a fruit, as I may call it, of his womb.  
3. Another cause may be the increase of his glory, which by every Religious Order is greatly laboured and effected. For as a gardener takes care of his vines and fruit-trees; and a shepherd of his flock, and shrinketh not for heat or cold, or any toilsome labour, in regard of the commodity he reaps thereof: so God hath a provident care of these his flocks, not only out of his infinite goodness and mere mercy, but (if a body may be so bold to say so) for respect of some commodity; and why may we not say so, seeing S. Paul termeth such servants of God, vessels sanctified for honour, and profitable to our Lord? 
2. Tim. 2. 21●   
4. A third reason is Virtue itself and Devotion, which is so very powerful with God, that putting us highly into his favour, it will never suffer us to be neglected by him. 
Psa. 40.13.  Insomuch that the Royal Prophet saith: Thou hast received me for my innocence, and confirmed me in thy sight for ever. And in another Psalm: 
Ps 33.16.  The eyes of our Lord upon the just, and his ears in their prayers. Many are the tribulations of the just, and out of all them our Lord will deliver them. And Ecclesiasticus: The eyes of our Lord upon those that fear him. 
Ps. 33.20.  But that which Zacharie the Prophet saith, 
Eccls 15.20  is most remarkable: He that toucheth you, toucheth the apple of my eye. 
Zach. 2.8.  What could be said more? He thought it little to say, he toucheth me; but nameth that part of man which is dearest to every one, and most sensible; which though it be spoken of every body that serves God sincerely, yet particularly it suits best with Religious people; in regard they are more diligent and more exact in his service, and employ themselves and their whole strength and power in that alone.  
5. A fourth reason is in a manner proper only to Religious people. For we find everywhere, that God is wont to take particular charge and care of those, that are most destitute of humane help. So the Psalmist speaketh of him: 
Ps. 9. 3●.  The poor man is left to thee; thou will be a helper to the orphan; 
Ps. 145.9▪  and again: A Lord preserving littleones; and in another Psalm: Our Lord protecteth strangers; the pupil, and widow he will receive; for these kind of people have no humane assistance, to rely upon. God therefore owes protection to Religious people upon the same title; for they are truly poor, in regard they have nothing, and have given away all power of having any thing; they are truly orphans and pupils, having forsaken father and mother, and all other things, the friendship of men, the favour of Princes, the countenance and power of riches; they are most truly orphans, bereft of all human help; and littleones, having humbled and abased themselves so low; finally they are truly strangers, and, as guests and pilgrims in this world, have here no permanent cit●●e. Wherefore to them most of all doth that saying of the Prophet David agree: 
Ps. 90.1.  He that dwelleth in the help of the Highest, shall remain in the protection of the God of Heaven. For they do not (as Secular people) fly sometimes to the help of the Highest, but dwelling in his house and family, they live always in his help, and remain ever in his protection; and consequently that which there is set down more at large, must necessarily follow, that he will shadow them with his shoulders, and protect them with his shield, that they dread not the night-feare, that is, the secret devices of the enemy, nor the arrow flying in the day; that is, his open assaults.  

Four commodities of the particular 〈…〉 God over Religious Orders.  6. Now the commodities which arise of this protection of God, are innumerable, but may be reduced to four heads: whereof some concern our soul, some our body, some the conservation of the whole Order, some are for defence of the same against their enemies. First therefore God hath care of the souls of his servants, advancing them in Virtue, and not suffering them to be tempted above their strength, but even when he doth permit them to be tempted giving them grace, that they may have the upper hand to their greater glory, finally, as a diligent master labours by all means to advance the scholar, whom he loves, in matter of learning: so God seeketh with all diligence and care to put his disciples forward in spirit; that we may truly say of them, 
Ps. 93.12.  as it is in the Psalm: Blessed is the man, whom thou, o Lord, dost instinct, and teach him thy law.  
7. And that he hath such care over our souls, will appear the more, by the care which he hath over our bodies. For if he do so diligently and lovingly provide for our bodies, which are of so base a substance, we may easily understand, how careful he will be of our soul and spirit. And certainly so it is, that no father ever bestowed so much care in bringing-up the children. begotten of his body, and in maintaining them, as God doth in maintaining Religious people. Our Saviour hath given us testimony hereof in the care which he had of the multitude, that followed him in the Desert; for beholding them he said: 
Mar●. 8 2.  I have compassion upon the multitude, because, lo, three days they now endure with me, neither have what to eat. For how much rather will he say so now from heaven, and take compassion upon Religious people? For the multitude had not endured more than three days, and yet had not left all they had, but were soon after to return home again; but they that give themselves to God in a Religious course, endure with him, not for three days only, but their whole life-time, and leave themselves nothing at all for his sake, not so much as power to return to that, which upon good advice they have once forsaken, and bound themselves thereunto by Vow. Wherefore it belongeth properly to God Almighty his providence, to provide them necessaries for life and maintenance; 
The miraculous providence of God 〈◊〉 his servants.  which truly he doth so carefully, and continually, that a man may say, he taketh pleasure in it. But as he doth not upon the sudden create of nothing the grain, or the wine, which is necessary for men's uses, or send it down miraculously from heaven, but produce it out of the ground, and out of the vine: so also he provides for the necessities of Religious people by secondary causes, to wit, by other men's hands, moving first their minds thereunto. So we see that God found Helias in the time of dearth, not by himself, but by the woman, to whom he sent him with these words: 
3. reg. 17 9  I have commanded the widow-woman to feed thee. Wherefore S. Franci●, 
Ps. 17.15.  as we read, did not unfitly apply that verse of the Psalm (Man did eat the bread of Angels) to the bread which he gathered of alms, because the Angels did move people to give that bread.  
8. And to the end no man might doubt of this care, which God hath ordinarily over all Religious people, he hath often testified the same with wonderful extraordinary examples. In which kind Palladius doth record, that the Abbot Apollo living in the Desert with his disciples, and being unprovided of necessaries towards Easter-time, our Lord was not wanting of his care and liberality towards them. For upon the sudden certain men unknown to every body, came and offered themselves saying, that they came a long journey, and brought store of provision, great loaves of bread, a vessel of new milk, honey, diverse kinds of fruit, pomegranates, figs, grapes, and such like as grow not in Ag●pt, nor had ever been seen there by any of them; and they brought such plenty, as they lasted till Whitsuntide. What can a man desire more of the goodness of God, then to provide for his servants in time, and withal so plentifully, such dainties, at such a time?  
9 S. Gregory doth relate another, 
S. Gregory.  not unlike to this, of S. Benedict▪ that in a dear year, when his Monastery was wholly unprovided of corn, there were found at the gate two hundred bushels of meal, and no body knew from whence, or by whom, they were brought thither. The same happened to S. Columbanus; 
S Columbanus.  who having seated himself in a solitary place upon the rock, he and his Brethren had little or nothing to eat many days together, and upon the sudden they discover a man coming towards them, with diverse beasts laden with bread and other victuals; and the man, when he came, told them that he was moved suddenly in his mind to bring them that provision. Another time when their provision failed them, and they had a long time lingred-on with wild herbs, and barks of trees, in quiet of the night, it was put in the Abbot of Salice his mind, to relieve God's servants, that were ready to starve; and when their carts were laden and knew not which way to go, they laid the raynes upon the horses necks, and (doubtless guided by an Angel) they came directly to the place, where Columbannus lay hid with his companions.  
10. We have also many memorable examples of the like providence of God in several passages of the life of S. Francis, 
S. Francis.  but chiefly at the time of the first general Meeting of his Friars at Assisi●. For there being about five thousand of them then gathered together, he gave them very strict command, that they should not take any care at all for any thing pertaining to the body, grounding himself in that verse of the Psalm, which he had often in his mouth: 
Ps. 54. 2●  Cast thy care upon our Lord, and he will 〈…〉 thee. Dominick was present, when S. Francis gave this commandment; and he thought it somewhat too much, fearing lest he might seem to tempt God, if he provided nothing at all for so great a multitude. And behold not long after, there came from all the neighbouring towns and cities such a world of men and beasts, bringing with them all kind of provision of victuals, householdstuff, and household-vessel, that S. 〈◊〉 was quickly changed; and from that time resolved with himself, that his Order also, which was then beginning, should have no certain revenues to live on; relying upon the Divine providence, whereof he had seen with his eyes so evident a testimony.  
11. And S. Dominick himself had afterwards trial thereof. 
S. Dominick  For once in Rome there was nothing at all for them to eat in the Monastery: and moreover two of the Friars that had been all about the city begging alms from door to door, came back with empty wallets, to the end the liberality of God might be the more remarkable. Well, notwithstanding all this, S Domini●k caused them all to be called down to an empty board, and they were no sooner set, but two exceeding comely youths coming into the refectory, served every one of them with a wondrous white manche● loaf, beginning from him that sat lowest; and when they had dealt about to every one, they reverently bowed down their heads, and vanished out of their sight. S Dominick presently called for wine; and when they that waited, said there was none; he bade them go to the empty vessels; and coming, they found one full of excellent wine. What joy may we think there was at that board? What tears of gladness, beholding so great liberality of God, and that he had so great care over them? Many like examples we have in all Orders, and also in ours, but they are generally known, and nothing is more frequent in the lives of Saints.  

The conservation of Religious Orders very miraculous.  12 The third commodity arising of the protection of God, is the conservation and propagation of Religious Families, wherein we may evidently discover the great love of God towards them, and his special providence, whereof we speak. For who is there but must needs wonder, if he consider well, that among so many Religious Orders, that from time to time have been erected and continued from Age to Age, some very different among themselves, some very near alike, all of them have been still sufficiently furnished with subjects; none of them have decayed with age, none of them have been rejected for novelty. And doubtless, as there must needs be a secret virtue in fountains, which breed such a continual stream of water, and in cities, where people dye, there must be others borne, and others again to breed, that the inhabitants do not quite fail: So in these holy Congregations, there is something that doth conserve and multiply them, and furnish others in time, when others fail; which certainly is no human thing, but altogether Divine. It is God alone, as I said before, that inspireth these good thoughts, and inclineth men to what course of life he thinks good. And moreover, whereas among so many Religious Orders, some have degenerated from their ancient holiness of life and discipline, 
The persecutious of Religious people punished.  in them also, as they are, God doth show his goodness, not suffering them to want men to uphold them, and to keep their rank in God almighty's Church; as if he did it of purpose to show how constantly he sticks to those that he hath once taken into his charge and protection, and how much he will do for the Orders that maintain their first fervour and piety, seeing he doth not castof those that are slack and almost falling off from him.  
13 It remaineth that we speak of the fourth Head which was proposed, to wit, of the continual care which God hath to defend every Religious Family against those that malign them, and how he hath ever revenged himself in a most rigorous manner upon such wicked persons, as have banded against them. We have a memorable example of both in S. Columbanus his Life, of which I related some passages before. Theodoricus King of Burgundy, by instigation of his grandmother Brun●childis, among other mischiefs wrought against him, banished him out of the place where he lived, with some few of his Brethren. 
Theodori●k K. of Burgundy,  First therefore in that journey of his, one of the Officers, that had insolently strucken one of his Brethren with a cudgel, was not long after drowned in the same place, as S. Columbanus had foretold him. Theodoricus King being at wars with his brother Theodobert, was burnt in the city of Merz, by a fire raised, God knows how, by chance, or from heaven. Clotharius King of France invaded his Kingdom, and seizing upon his six sons put them all to death. Brunechildis, another jesabel, was set upon a camels back, and carried scornfully through the whole army, and afterward commanded to be tied to three or four wild colts tails, and torn in pieces, in which torment she died most miserably; and that whole Family was quite rooted out, the Kingdom being devolved to Clo●harius.  
14 The death of Balatiu● Precedent of Egypt, 
Balatius Precedent of Agypt.  in S. Antony the Great his time, was not much unlike. He did persecute the Catholics many ways, but chiefly bend his rage against the Monks, and would sometimes cause them publicly to be beaten with rods. S. Antony wrote unto him a short letter, declaring the wrath which hang over his head from heaven. He took the letter in scorn, and cast it away, threatening beside, that seeing S. Antony took upon him to defend the Monks, he would have shortly to do with him also. But he quickly repented himself of his proud demeanour; for some four days after returning from his pleasure abroad, in company of one of his bosome-friends, his friend's horse, who till that day was the gentlest that could be, leapt suddenly upon him in a mad humour, and taking him in his teeth, pulled him to the ground, and trampling upon him with his feet, could by no means be beaten off: and so he died soon after most miserably, every one admiring and confessing the just judgement of God in it.  
15 That also which S. Gregory recounteth in his Dialogues of Florentius, 
Florentiu●.  who was adversary to S. Benedict, is very strange, and we touched somewhat of it before. This Florentius had endeavoured first to poison S. Benedict; afterwards he laboured to overthrow some of his disciples by wanton objects, S. Benedict therefore thought it best to give way to his wicked intentions, and voided the place, taking most of his Brethren with him, but he was not gone far, when the wicked Florentius came to his end by the fall of a house upon him, and so lost both temporal and eternal life together.  
16 That which happened in this kind to the Primate of Armach in Ireland in the year of Christ one thousand three hundred fourscore and six, 
The Primate of Armach.  is very memorable, and was acted upon a great theatre. For first in England, then at A●inion (where at that time the Pope did sit) he spoke much against the Orders of Begging-Friars in open Consistory of the Cardinals. And persisting obstinately to prosecute the cause against them, he died soon after; and together with him all his false accusations were buried.  
16 About twenty years after this had happened, another thing fell out, which is worthy to be noted. Certain Prelates (lead with what spirit, I know not) took advise among themselves to put down the Order of S. Fran●i●; 
Another Bishop strangely punished.  and to effect it, they appointed a meeting of certain Bishops. In the windows of the great Church of that town there were two pictures painted upon the glass, one of S. Paul with a Sword in his hand, an other of S. Fran●is, with a Crosse. The Sacristan one night heard, as it were, S. Paul saying thus; what dost thou, Francis? Why dost thou not defend thy Order? And S. Francis answered: What shall I do? I have nothing left me but the Cross; and it puts me in mind of patience. S. Paul willed him not to putup such an injury, and offered him his sword. The Sacristan was much frighted; and when it was day, coming into the Church, he found that the two pictures had changed their weapons, S. Paul had the Cross, and S. Fran had the Sword all bloody. And while he was wondering at it within himself, the noise was about the town, that the Bishop, that had first moved the business against the Friars, was found dead, and his head cut off. Then he began also to relate, what he had heard in the night, and showed the pictures to every one that came, that they might the rather believe him.  
17 Many such things have happened to those that have been troublesome to Religious people; and few there be of them, that have not come to ruin, God fight for his servants; and indeed their causes are so linked together, that he that opposeth one, must needs oppose the other. Wherefore others may glory, if they please, in the favour of Princes and Kings, and bestow their whole time and pains in gaining it; our glory shall be to say with the Prophet: 
Ps. 32.20.  Our soul endureth with our Lord, because he is our helper and protector; our hart shall rejoice in him, and we will hope in his holy name. And he on the other side will say to every one of us, as he said anciently to Abraham: 
Gen. 15.  Do not ●eare, I am thy protector, and thy very great reward; ●or both go together, and both agree to Religious people, if they agree to any body in this life; that because they desire no other happiness or reward but God, therefore he is their protector and defender.   

The two and twentieth fruit: The protection of our Blessed Lady. CHAP. XXXIV.  
BEsides the manifest and assured protection of God, which all Religious enjoy, they are to understand to their further comfort and benefit, that our Blessed Lady hath taken them into her particular charge and care, defending and cherishing them under her wing and protection. For as in a great household, besides the father, who is head-governour, it is fitting there be a mother, not only to breed children, but to bring them up, and find them necessaries; so though in the household of the Church, Christ be our common Father, who regenerated us with his sacred blood, yet it is fitting there should be a Mother also, who with her virtue, care, and deserts might concur to the breeding, fostering, and maintaining of the spiritual life, which our Saviour gives us, this Health-bringing Virgin, as S. Leo styles her, 
S. Leo ser. 1. de pass.  is our Mother; of whom S. Germany Patriarch of Constantinople, 
S. German. in orat. de deip virg.  an ancient grave author, writeth thus: As the breath, which we draw continually, is not only a sign of life, but a cause thereof: so the most holy name of MAR●●, which (as he saith) the servants of God have always in their mouth, is both a sign that they truly live, and withal doth cause and conserve life in them, and gives them comfort and help in all things. And this she doth to all, that truly live; yet as the Sun doth concur to all natural effects, but in greater measure to those, that are greater and more noble: so all degrees in the Church partake of her light and assistance; yet they that are higher in sanctity and perfection, 
The life of our B lady a pattern of Religion  doubtless do most of all feel the benefit of it. And a Religious state hath this advantage, that it comes very near the manner and fashion of life, which she herself lead on earth; for we may truly glory, that her life was a pattern of a Religious course. The manger, and and the two young pigeons, and many things else, bear witness of her Poverty. Her marriage, shows her Obedience, being subject to a man, whom she did far excel in holiness of life and wisdom. Wha● need we speak of her Chastity, seeing she was the first that displayed the ensign thereof, and held it not only by purpose, and constant resolution, but by Vow? So all do write of her, and S Augustin in particular saith thus: 
S. August. ● de Virg. c. 4.  Her virginity also was the more pleasing and acceptable, because Christ did not take her, after he was conceived, to preserve her himself from an other man, that would have deflowered her, but chose her when she was already dedicated to God, before he was conceived, to the end to be borne of her. The words in which Marie delivered her answer to the Angel that brought her tidings of a child, show as much. How shall this be done, because I know not man? Which truly she would not have said, but that she had vowed virginity to God before. But because the custom of the Israelits did not as yet admit of any such thing, she was espoused to a just man, who was not violently to take from her that which she had vowed, but r●ther to preserve it from others that might be violent. S. Bernard also writeth to the same effect, & among other praises he commends her, for that (as he speaketh) transcending the decrees of the law of Moses, 
S Bernard ser sup. ●lag.  she vowed an undefiled sanctity of body and soul; which inviolably-grounded purpose is proved by her resolute answer to the Angel, that promised her a son: How shall this be done, because I know not man?  
2. Wherefore seeing likeness breeds love, and there be such plain traces of a Religious life in the Blessed Virgin, who can doubt, but she doth behold and embrace all and every Religious person, and every Order and Family of them, with particular love and care? S. Bernard gives us to understand as much, saying that our spiritual marriage doth please her much more, than the carnal marriage, 
S. Bernard s. de aqua in vinum ver.  at which we read she was present with her Son; in regard that in carnal marriage, one man is coupled with another, but in spiritual marriage, our soul is coupled with Christ her Son.  
3. This will appear more plainly, if we consider the beginnings of many Religious Orders; for finding them to have proceeded from the goodness & charity of this most glorious Virgin, 
Religious Orders erected by ●er means.  by those of whom we find it so recorded, we may gather, that the like hath happened to others, of whom there is no such thing extant in writing, and that absolutely all Religious Orders have been founded by her help, and continued by her assistance.  
4. We find upon record, that when the ancient & noble Order of the Charterhouse-Monks was first founded in Grenold, many things were objected against that holy Institute, by instigation of the Devil, specially at the time that S. Bruno their Founder was absent from them, 
The Charterhouse-Monks.  whom Pope Vrban the Second had commanded to stay in Rome, and a great storm of temptation fell upon that little flock. On the one side, the extreme hardness of that kind of life was represented unto them, the hideousnes of the place they were seated in, it being very solitary, & that they were but few, which of itself is irksome and tedious, On the other side the spirit of God had taken root in their hearts, and the eminent men, who, as so many stars, were their guides, and the fearful end of the Doctor of Paris, made great impression in them. And while they were thu● stumbled in their mind, a venerable old man, with curled hair & a bald crown, stood in the midst of them, and promised them in the name of Almighty God, that our Blessed Lady mother of God should always protect them in that solitary place, and be their Patroness and Advocate, if they would every day say their Primer in her honour; and when he had spoken these words, he vanished out of their sight, but left in their hearts great confidence and joy. Whereupon making no doubt but that the old man was S. Peter the Apostle, they presently by common consent and agreement chose our Blessed Lady for their particular Patroness and Advocate; and we may plainly see by the event, how faithfully she hath performed her promise. For they have not only persevered till this day in that solitary place, but made it very famous, and from thence forward increased ever in number and opinion of sanctity.  
5. We may say the same of the Cistercian Monks, 
The Cistercian Order.  the Founders of which Order were two: S. Robert, that began it, and S. Bernard that augmented and increased it. Whosoever hath read the Works of S. Bernard, or heard any thing of him, can make no doubt, but his Order was exceedingly favoured by the Blessed Virgin, were it but for his own living in it, that was so great a Favourite of hers; and being such, was placed by her in that Order. S. Robert (Founder, as I said, of that Order) was ordained by the Mother of God for that course of life, before he was borne. For we find, that she appeared to his mother, while she went with child of him, and holding a gold-ring in her hand, spoke thus unto her: Engardis (For so was her name) I will espouse the boy thou goest with, to mysel● with this ring. When she awaked, she reflected upon it with exceeding joy, and that she might be the more assured of it, the same Vision appeared unto her the second time; and by the event it proved true. For the Espousals were his Entering into Religion, 
The Carmelit-Friars.  and his Vow of Chastity the ring. Of the Carmelit-Friars we read, that while they were petitioning Pope Honorius the Fourth to confirm their Institute, our Blessed Lady appeared unto him in the nighttime, and bade him entertain the petitioners and their petition favourably, and yield to their request.  
6. The Order of the Seruites is principally dedicated to the service of our Blessed Lady, 
The Seruites  and beareth her name. Their beginning was thus: They were a kind of sodality or Congregation gathered together in her honour. In one of their meetings upon the feast of her Assumption, while they were at their prayers, moved by a voice from heaven, they all forsook the world, and vowed themselves to the service of God, and particularly of our Blessed Lady, in the manner they had already begun; and are called Seruites, as it were, her special servants. Some seven years after our B. Lady appeared to every one of them severally in the night, accompanied with a great and glorious troup of Angels; she had in one hand a russet Habit, in the other a Book open, commanding them ever after to wear that Habit under that Rule, which she said was S. Augustin's. When it was day, they all met together, and related the Vision which they had had, and resolved, to the excessive contentment of their souls, 
The Orders of S. Dominic●. and S. Francis.  to do as the B. Virgin, and Queen of Heaven had commanded them.  
7. But that which is recorded to have happened to S. Dominick concerning his own Order, and the Order of S. Francis together, is more memorable than any of the rest. While he was one night in his prayers in S. Peter's Church in Rome, at the time when he was framing in his mind such a course of life, he thought he saw the Heaven's open, and that Christ our Saviour with an angry & fiery countenance stood up, threatening the world with three darts that he had in his hand, the one, to destroy the proud; the covetous people, with the other▪ & those that were lasciviously given, with the third: & no body did oppose himself against his wrath; only the B.U. Mother of mercy, falling down at his feet, beseeched him to spare those whom he had redeemed with his precious blood. And when Christ made answer, that justice required, that so great offences should be no longer left unpunished, she replied, that she had some of her servants, that would willingly bestow their labour to reclaim the people, and bring them to penance. Our Saviour appeased with her speeches, desired to see them; and she brought forth S. Dominick himself (that saw the Vision) and S. Francis. S. Dominick had never seen S. Francis before; yet meeting him by chance the next day, he knew him by that which he had seen the night before, and embraced him with much affection, as his brother and companion in so great a work; and related unto him, what he had seen. And they often found by the effects her special favour towards them, and particularly in Pope Innocentius the Fourth his time. This Pope was, I know not upon what ground, averted from them, and had by his Breves restrained them of their Faculties and privileges. The Friars had no other means of redress, but by recourse to heaven; and among other devotions they had appointed to say the Litanies. One day therefore, while those of S. Dominick● Order were saying them in their church at Rome, one of the Friars saw our B. Lady standing upon the altar with her Son, as it were pitying the case of the Friars, and their grief and tears which they shed bitterly; and turning to her Son repeated these words diverse times, as it is in the Litanies: Sonn●, harken unto them. Not long after, Pope Innocent, lying upon his deathbed at Naples, showed himself very penitent, and speaking those words of the Psalm (For iniquity thou hast rebuked man, 
Ps. 38.12.  and made his soul waste away like a spider) he gave up the ghost.  
8 The B. Virgin showed the like favour to the Monks of Mount-oliver (a place in Italy) upon their beginning. 
The Oli●etans.  For the three gentlemen of S●ena, who were the first Founders of that Order, agreeing upon a course, and many resorting to them by reason of the ho●ie ●ife they lead, there wanted not those that informed the Pope against them (who lived then at A●igmon) as new-fanglers. Whereupon he cited them before him; but dealt favourably with them and remitted them to Guido Archbishop of 〈◊〉. While they were upon their return into Italy, our B. Lady Mother of God appeared to the Archbishop, attended with a great number of Angels, commending those men unto him, and showed him moreover a white Habit and the Rule of S. Benedict, which she would have them use. In the Church of the B. Trinity of Are●●um, they say, there is a picture upon the wall, which testifieth this which I have related; in which Church the Bishop gave them the Habit and the Rule under the protection of our B. Lady.  
9 In like manner she promised her assistance to the Order of S. Hierome, and showed favour towards them. This Order began in Spain; and when at first there were but two or three little Monasteries of them, 
The Hieronimus.  some of the Brethren offended with so little a number, resolved among themselves to put themselves into some other Order; and while they were going, out B. Lady met them visibly upon the way, and bade them return, and persever in their former course of life; for shortly they should see it spread far and near, and that all that were of that Order should be her particular servants. Were with they were fully strengthened in their purpose, and the ●●ole Order of them, useth beside their other garments, a while coat to this day, to testify that they belong to this Virgin.  
10 Finally, 
The society of I●SVS.  we may reckon our Society of JESUS in this number. For first S. Ignatius ou● Founder, was certainly a creature of this B. Virgin. For we read of him, that while he was yet a secular man in his father's house, she appeared unto him very glorious, and stood some time before him; at which sight and some speech which he had with her, he was quite changed into another man; and not long after he vowed chastity in her honour. Afterwards, when he was resolved to put himself upon a spiritual warfare, he began it in her Church at Mount-serrate, standing as it were Sentinel all night, before her altar (after the manner of some ancient Knights, 
Mass l. 1. vit. ●n c. 2.3.  when they were first installed) to give and dedicate himself wholly unto her. Wherefore as he that sets the kernel, sets the tree; so when the B. Virgin brought forth Ignatius, she brought us all forth, and our whole Order, as being contained in him, as the posterity of Abraham, in his loins. Which once was showed unto a Priest of our Order, a man of great sanctity, by name, Martin Guttieres, a Spaniard, who had many things revealed unto him; and among the rest, as he was travelling through France, he rid by a chapel of our Lady, and it was given him to understand, that he was to die within eight days; and it fell out so; for being taken by the Heretics, and very hardly used, he died in their hands. To this man, I say, the B. Virgin related many things, and among others, this which concerns us al. On a time she appeared before him in very comely fashion and statute, and her garment or huke was spread out into a great compass, and under it was our whole Society, which she cherished as a mother, and did protect it, as it were, with that garment of her grace and love.  
11. Wherefore, seeing all Religious Orders do live under the protection of this B. Virgin (as appeareth most manifestly by the examples and reasons hee● set down) we h●ue great cause to rejoice, 
The Power and good will of our B. Lady.  and congratulate one another, that we have the selfsame Protectrice and Queen on earth, which the Blessed have in heaven. For what can we want living under her protection, seeing there is no mischief which she is not strong enough to preserve us fron●, nor any good thing which her prayers and merits are not able to obtain? For whereas two things are required in a man that will do good to another, power, and will to do it, both are so great and certain in this B. Queen, that nothing can be desired more; her power, to say in one word all that can be said, is all one with her son's: only he hath it by nature, she hath it by grace and communication: And as for her good will and inclination to do good, who can think worthily enough of it, seeing it is so nearly united with the Divine infinite goodness, 
S. Bernard s●ct 1. de Assump●.  and wholly absorbed and drowned in it? Insomuch that S. Bernard saith thus of her: She is the Queen of heaven, she is merciful, finally, she is the mother of the only-begotten Son of God. And nothing can so much commend the greatness of her power and goodness, unless we believe that the Son of God doth not respect his mother, or make doubt, lest the bowels of the B. Virgin Marie, are not transformed into all charitable affection; Charity itself, which is of God, having corporally rested in them for nine months. Which saying of S. Bernard ext●ndeth to all Christians▪ but let us see, how she doth exercise both power and good will particularly towards Religious people. 
A strange vi●on.  Of her power we read a rare example in the Chronicle of S. Francis his Order. Leo one of the special companions of S. Francis, saw one day, as it were upon a great plain, Christ coming to judge the world. Multitudes of men and women were gathered thither, the Angels sounded their trumpets, and there were two great ladders which reached down from heaven to the earth, one red, another white; upon the red ladder Christ leaned, with a severe and angry countenance. S. Francis standing a little below him, beckoned to his Brethren to come up confidently that ladder, for that our Saviour invited them, and would have it so: wherefore many ran up hastily, but quickly fell down again, some from the third, some from the fourth, some from the tenth, some from the higher steps, and some when they were almost at the top. At which S. Francis was wonderfully sorry, but yet bade them take courage, and runne-up the other white ladder, for there was no danger at al. When they came to it, they saw our B. Lady leaning upon the top of it, beholding every one of them with a loving aspect, and helping them, and entertaining every one of them, so that they all got very easily into heaven; which doth sufficiently show her power.  

An other comfortable vision.  11. Her goodness is as admirably expressed in the History of the Cistercian Order, where we find recorded, that one Reynaldus, a very holy man, was one day labouring in the harvest, among the rest of his Brethren; and because of his old age, he was bid to leave off, and rest himself; so he sat down somewhat troubled at it, and behold he saw suddenly a company of women marching down a hill that was hard by: they were all clad in white, and one of them went before, much taller and fairer than the rest, and coming with her retinue to the servants of God, she embraced every one of them very lovingly, and kissed them, and wiped the sweat and dust off their brows, with the linen towels which two of the company brought with them: and she cherished those most, which laboured hardest. Reynaldus beholding it, began to dispute with himself and wonder, who these women might be, that were so bold with the Religious men, beyond all order & custom. And a venerable man appeared standing by him, who told him, that she whom he saw was the Mother of God, with other blessed Virgins, and she came to see her haruest-folk, for so he called them. This was the vision which Reynaldus saw; the rest, though they saw it no● wi●h their eyes, yet doubtless they felt it in their souls, and in the increase of corporal strength, and patience, and a heavenly sweetness amidst that painful labour: whereby we understand, that though we cannot see with our eyes the many favours which this Blessed Virgin doth us, yet we receive many and often, in all places and seasons, specially in all labour and pains which we undergo for her beloved Son our Saviour JESUS.   

The two and twentieth fruit: That the prayers of Religious people are easily heard. CHAP. XXXV.  
IT remaineth that we speak of another fruit of Religion, to wit, that the prayers of Religious people are so grateful and effectual in the sight of God, that they easily obtain whatsoever they ask, as in reason and by daily experience we ma● find. A worthy thing doubtless in all men's eyes, and a so exceeding profitable, to be thus gracious with our sovereign Lord and King. For to use the wealth and power o● one that is Omnipotent, as his own, is in a manner to be Omnipotent. In the world it is esteemed so great a thing to have the care of a Prince, that every one doth desire it and strive for i●; what must it then needs be, to be so high in the favour of God, as to have access unto him as it were by right, and be so confident, as to ask, and so powerful, as to obtain, any thing at his hands? This therefore that is so profitable, and withal so highly honourable, a Religious estate among other comodities doth bring unto us For we may justly make account, 
Ps. 80▪ 1●.  that our Lord saith thus to every one of us: I am thy Lord God, that have brought thee out of the land of Aegy●●; open thy mouth wide open, and I will sit it. The love which God hath showed us in bestowing so great a benefit upon us, as to bring us o●t to the land of Egypt, that is ou● of the world, leaving so many behind in ●h● miseries thereon, doth make us confident thereof. The obedience also of a Religious man, harkening to the voice of God, 
Rom. 10.12  in so great a matter, doth seem to deserve i●; and many other causes there be, why that infinite goodness, who is rich towards all that ●al upon him, should particularly do Religious people this favour.  
2. The Prophet David giveth us one special reason to think so, 
Ps. 33: 16.  when he saith: The eyes of our Lord are upon the just, and his ears unto their prayers. And again: 
Ps. 14● 1●.  He will do the will of those that fear him: and hear their prayer. Now where is more justice and Fear of God, then in that State, which b● reason of this fear hath betaken itself, as it were, into a castle of justice? for so we may call Religion in regard it removeth us so far from all occasions of sin, and the Devils from hurting us, that it is a manner harder to do eui●, then good: the power of doing evil, is so taken from us.  
3 Another reason proper ●o Religious people, 
God hears the poor.  is Poverty, of which the same Prophet saith: Our Lord h●th heard the desire of the poor; God hath heard the p●●pa●a●ion of their har●s. So that God do●h prevent the prayers of those that a●● truly, that is voluntarily poor, and hear their very thoughts and desi●es before they v●t●r them in pr●y●r▪ I say, 
Ps 9.28.  of those that are voluntarily poor; for there be many w●os●h u●es and chests are empty and poor, but their mind is rich, because it o●e●h and desires riches. The Princes of the world, that measure things by their fair outside, favour t●ose most, that are rich and powerful; poor people have no access unto them, they will not so much as look upon them. God dealeth after another manner, and admitteth those chiefly to his presence, and granteth their requests, that for his love appear naked before him, and are bare of all human substance. And how can it be otherwise, but that his infinite goodness and mercy should deal liberally with them, who have been so liberal towards him, and grant them any thing, that have given him all they had, and all they were in possibility to have? For here that rule takes place, which himself prescribed to his liberalities: What measure you measure, 
Mat. 7.1. Luc. 6 37.  shall be measured again to you; yea in more plentiful manner, to wit, a measure pressed, and shaken together, and overflowing, they will give into your bosom. And if this be the reward of that which we bestow upon our neighbour, 
And the humble. Eccle 35 21. Ps. 101. 1●.  what may we expect for that which we bestow upon God? A third reason is, Humility; whereof we find written, that the payer of him that humbleth himself, doth pierce the clouds; and in an other place: Our Lord had regard to the prayer of the humble, and did not reject their prayers. Now there be two sorts of Humility: the one lasteth for a while only, as for the time we are at our prayers; which humility is so forcible to obtain what we desire, that is in a manner all in all, as we find by the example of Achab, 
3 Reg. 27.29  that wicked king who notwithstanding his wickedness, no sooner humbled himself in the sight of God, as the Scripture speaketh, but he obtained what he would. Wherefore if this kind of humility be so forcible, as to make sinners have a favourable hearing before that sovereign judge; certainly the humility which is to be seen in all our actions, and in the very manner of our life, and the whole extent thereof, must needs be far more effectual to give the lust a more favourable audience; I say the humility of the course of life, wherein Religious people live, which doth not only bar all pomp and state, but placeth us in the lowest place, among the poor, subject to every body, which in a worldly eye is a great slavery, though in very deed it be the greatest liberty, and to be preferred before kingdoms. 
And those that delight in God Ps. 36.4.   
4. A fourth cause is that, which we find in the Psalm: Delight in our Lord, and he will grant thee the desire of thy hart; which is the proper occupation of Religious people. They have debarred themselves of all other delights, as of marriage, children, riches, and such as rich men use, as hawking, and hunting, bancke●s, plays, stately buildings, rich attire, and the like: and in steed of them, they have placed all their delight in God, whom they enjoy by prayer, meditation, and reading, and many other ways. The state itself helpeth them herein; for being spiritual, and wholly dedicated to the service of God, it giveth them no occasion of desiring or askin●▪ any thing, but that which is spiritual and pertaining to his service; which makes that God is the more easily inclined o● care them, because when he hearkeneth to them in these things, he hearkeneth to himself, and deals for his own honour and benefit; so much doth it in, o●● to have the intercourse with God, which Religious people h●ue, and to deal in one and the same business: so that, that which is good o●●i● for the one, is good or i'll for the other. As when a servant deals for his master, whatsoever he doth in that kind, and whatsoever he asketh his master, concerns his master more than himself; and if hi● master grant him any thing, it is for the master's profit.  
5. And doubtless these reasons are very forcible, 
Denial of out wils & charity, two other reasons, why our prayers are heard.  to move the infinite goodness of God to give us a favourable hearing, yet there be two other things which in my opinion are more forcible than any of the rest, to wit, the denial of our own will▪ and the union and charity which is betwixt us. As concerning the first, the Prophet Esay answering the complaint which some did make, that God did not hearken to their prayers, nor their fasts, nor their tears, speaketh in this manner: 
Isay. 58.3.  Behold, in the day of your fasting, your own will is found; and promiseth them moreover, that if they forgo their own will, Than you shall call upon our Lord, and he will hear you; you shall cry out, and he will say, lo, I am here; and he hath reason in it For as it were an uncivil and unreasonable thing among friends, for one to desire always to have his own will, and never to do as his friend would have him, in regard that in friendship there must be equality, and that which pleaseth one, must please another, whereby they come to that confidence among themselves, that they may freely ask, and take by authority that which is their friend's: In like manner, in the friendship that is betwixt God & us, nothing doth make him more friendly towards us, than the resigning of our will to him in all things, great and small. And who is there that doth practise this resignation and conformity more perfectly, and more constantly, then Religious people? who by the Vow of Obedience, have quiet cut off their own will, and in place thereof, engrafted in their hearts the will of God? So that (in that measure that there can be right and equity betwixt God and man) a Religious man may in a kind of justice require of God, that seeing he in all things doth the will of God, God will do his will in some thing that concerns also his service.  
6. Of unity and fraternal charity we shall not need to say much, 
Mat. 18.19.  seeing we have the promise of our Saviour in these words: I say unto you, if two of you agree upon earth, of whatsoever thing they shall ask, it shall be done unto them by my Father that is in heaven. If therefore it go by consent, what greater consent can there be then among Religious people, among whom all things are common? and what agreement can be more durable than theirs, who are linked together by so indissoluble a tie, as be their Vows? So that their prayers must needs be more grateful, and more efficacious in the sight of God, both in regard of the virtue itself of Charity, which cannot but be exceeding pleasing to God, who himself is Charity, and for the participation, which, as I said before, is betwixt them, and the communion of all good works, which makes every one of them more gratful, and more powerful with God, appearing in his sight, 
A great confidence of S. Dominick in his prayers.  invested with the merits and good works of all the rest. We read that S. Dominick one day did frankly confeste to a certain Prior of the C●stercian Order, that was his great friend, that he never asked God any thing which was not granted him; which the Prior wondering at, said unto him: And why then do you not ask that God will make Conradus the Dutchman enter into your Order? which Conradus was at that time, one of the learnedst men of Christendom. S. Domin●ck answered, it was a hard matter, but yet he did not mistrust, but if he should ask it, God would grant it him. And thereupon continued all that night at his prayers; and behold, early in the morning, Conradus came to their Church, cast himself at the feet of S. Dominick, begging to be received into his Order; and was received, to the great joy and astonishment of every body. All books of History and Devotion are full of the like examples, and there is not almost the life of any Religious person, man or woman, written, wherein we shall not find that they have obtained of God many great things, either above the common course of nature, which are the more remarkable or natural and ordinary, which were usual with them, but yet less no●ed, 
And S Scholastics.  and many not noted at al.  
7. And me thinks, the lesser the things be which they ask and obtains, the more admirable is the goodness of God in condescending in them to their prayers and desires; of wh●ch kind we read of S. Scholasti●a, that she fell to her prayers, and God sent a very great rain, to stay S. Benedict, who was her brother, all one night with her. And S. Thomas of Aquin, 
S. Thomas of Aquin  longing for some he●●ings, 
S. Francis.  when he was sick, he sent him some, though at that time they were not in season. And S. Francis in his sickness desiring ●o hear some Music, an Angel came in the night, and played to him in his chamber upon the lute. These l●ttle things, I say, of which there be infinite in the Saints lives, do show both how easy God is in harkening to the prayers of his friends, and that he is far more inclinable in great matters, specially such as concern our own souls, and others good, as more beseeming his greatness. In which respect S. john Chrysostom saith, 
S: john Chr●●●st. hom 4. in Gen.  that Religious people are not only beneficial to themselves, but to whole Cities and Commonwealths; and giveth this admonition: When thou seest a man outwardly but meanly clad, yet inwardly adorned with virtue, contemn not that which thou seest outwardly, but fix thy eyes upon the riches of his soul and inward glory. Blessed Helias was such, when he had his goatskin only about him; and yet Achab in all his robes, stood in need of his goatskin. Behold therefore Achab's mi●etie, and Helias his riches.   

A comparison between the state of a Religious man, and a Secular Layman. CHAP. XXXVI.  
BY the discovery which we have made of the fruits and manifold treasures of a Religious life, we may without much labour, easily understand, how far it excelleth all other courses of life, which be in the world, for as much as concerneth the profitableness of it, and the easiness of a tayning to salvation by it. The courses which may stand in comparison with it, are these: The state of a Lay man, of a Clergy man, of a Bishop, and of a Solitary life; and of every one of th●m we will discourse apart. And to begin with the lowest, which is the state of a Layman, the d●fference certainly betwixt it and a Religious course, is very great and plain, and in my opinion evidently expressed by our Saviour in the Parable of the great supper, from which (and from the service of God signified by it) three things did with hold the guests that were invited; to wit, I have bought a farm: I have bought five yoke ●●●en: 
Lac. 1●. 18.  I h●ue w●dded a wife. Under which three heads the Divine wisdom doth briefly comprehend all the several trades and occupations and fashions of living, which are so diverse in a Secular life. 
S. Ambrose l 7. in 〈◊〉 c 14.  And so S. Ambrose doth understand it, adding that our Saviour in this Parable doth teach us, that we must forsake all earthly things, 
Mat. 19 21 3 Reg. 19.21.  because neither he, that trading in inferior things, purchaseth earthly possessions for himself, can come to the Kingdom of heaven; since our Saviour said: Sel what thou hast, and follow me; nor he that buyeth oxen, seeing Elizaeus killed those which he had, and divided them among the people; and he that hath wedded a wife, thinks of the things of this world, 
1. Cor. 7.34.  and not of any thing belonging to God, not that Marriage is condemned▪ but because it is greater honour to be entire▪ for the unmarried woman; and the widow thinketh of that which is of God, how she may be holy in body and in spirit. Thus far S. Ambrose. And let us consider a little more particularly these bonds & hindrances, in which all Secular people are entangled, some in one kind, some in another.  
2. The dangers and dommages of the first of these impediments are fitly expressed by S. Augustin in these words: 
S. Augustin. s 33. de Ver. Domini.  By buying a farm we understand the desire of command; 
The danger of Ambition.  for it is naturally pleasing to have a farm, to be master of something, to have other men under us, and to be Lord. A naughty vice, and the first of all vices; for the first man would needs be Lord, because he would have no Lord. What is to be Lord, but to be in one's own power? But there is a greater power. Let us submit ourselves unto it, that we may be safe. By which speech of S. Aug. we understand both the mischief which is in ambitions seeking to bear rule & sway among men, & the happiness of Religious people, that are, according to his advice, so perfectly subject to God, & bound to his service by the indissoluble bond of their Vows. S. Gregory doth often discourse of the same dangerous state, in which they live that are possessed with an ambitious spirit; and indeed there is no vice which he doth more earnestly inveigh against, 
job. ●4 18. S. Greg. mor. 24. c. 14.  than this, and particularly upon those words of holy job: Who saith to the king: Renegade; and calleth the leaders, wicked; he giveth us to understand three things, for which honour and preferment is justly to be feared. First because, when honour and ambition hath once taken a man in the head, he breaketh with all justice and honesty, and trampleth it under foot. The sins, saith S. Gregory which are committed out of desire of command, are without number. Second●y, the very desire of precedency, is of itself a great fault, though there be no other sin mingled with it; & in this sense S. Gregory taketh those words: Who saith to the king: Renegade; because every governor (saith he) doth fall into the sin of Apostasy, as often as delighted with the command he hath over other men, he pleaseth himself in that he is singularly honourable. The third danger is by reason of the great charge which li●●h upon him that is in honour, if either he help not his subjects to live orderly and well, or, which is worse, they be perverted by i'll example; which is the cause, (as S. Gregory interpreted) why God calleth the leaders, wicked, because (saith he) the leader is wicked who strayeth from the path of truth, & running headlong himself, inviteth his followers to a downefal. Are not therefore they most miserable, that neglecting a supper so plentifully furnished with all that can be desired, cast themselves wittingly upon so many mischiefs? In my opinion they are not only most wretchedly miserable, but errant fools, that being so lovingly and freely invited to this Royal banquet, prepared for them without any labour or cost of theirs, will rather buy such a farm, at so dear a rate. And what must it cost them, but a continual slavery, an infinite care, solicitude, and many sorrows, which is dearer than gold or silver, these being external, the other internal, which go to our very hart?  
3. Now let us consider on the other side, the quiet and peaceableness of a Religious life, 
The bancquet of Religion.  free from ambition, fitly expressed in the Parable of a great supper or banquet. For in a great banquet three things do concur: Rest, in sitting down at board; delight, in plentiful feeding; and pleasure, in conversation with good company. What greater quiet of mind can any body have, than a Religious man, that hath forsaken all, and desireth nothing in the world, 
Rom. 8.38.  but contents himself in God, from whom he is certain, as the Apostle speaketh, that neither things present, nor things to come, can sever him? What food can be more delightful, than the contemplation of heavenly things, which infinitely please the palate of the soul? What butchers-meate, or fowl, or delicate sauce, can be compared with the dainties which from the heavenly banquet of the Blessed, do befall us? Which are yet made more sweet, by the sweetness of the company of so many of our Brethren and companions as meet together at the banquet. For as all meeting of good company together is naturally delightful, much more the assembly of so many virtuous men so nearly linked to one another. This is the banquet prepared for Religious men, and their whole life time is a banquet, 
Prou. 15.15.  because as the Wiseman saith, A safe conscience is a continual banquet. They live without danger and anxious fear, and with out thought of any hard and troublesome business, as in all banckets that which is any way troublesome, is of purpose laid aside. So that the to●lesome and dangerous businesses, which are incident to those that spend all their life-time in buying of farms, is no way to be compared with the pleasure and security of a Religious life.  

The troubles and danger of gayneful occupation.  4. The second rank is of them, that are wholly set upon yokes of oxen, and lucre, and gain, and traffic, and increase of worldly substance. A miserable occupation: and to speak the truth, a base kind of people, that set their thoughts so wholly upon so base a thing; and are therefore justly compared by our Saviour to them, that bought oxen for tillage, which is the meanest trade of life among the rest. For as they that go to plough, labour and toil in earth, and have their eyes and their minds continually looking down upon the earth: so they that scrape wealth together, whatsoever they trade in, handle nothing but earth, for in truth all is but earth, though people are foolishly taken with the outward seeming appearance. And the dangers of sin are so many, in buying, and selling, and trafficking, that it is very hard to trade in any thing without sin, specially if once a man be possessed with the greedy desire of gain. So that it is most evident, that this kind of life which stands wholly upon greediness of gain, cannot be compared with a Religious life in any thing For that is always restless, full of trouble and care; this is ever quiet and peaceable, as having nothing to do with things that are subject to so many chances, and by reason of them, do breed exceeding trouble and disquiet. That is in continual hazard of eternal death: this is altogether safe and without danger. In that it is a rare matter to think of any spiritual thing, this handleth and taketh delight in nothing else.  
5. The third sort of people are they that are married, of the bonds of which state though I have discoursed at large before, this may be briefly said, ●hat it is none of the least hindrances for coming to the banquet, to which we are invited. For if the trial of oxen, and the desire of wealth, were forcible enough to divert them from coming to the banquet, what will not marriage be, which besides the necessity of getting wealth, brings many other cares upon a man, concerning wife, and children, and family, and many other things that depend thereof; 
An excellent similitude out of S. Bernard ser de 3. Ordin.  which again breeds ignorance and forgetfulness of God, and consequently ●●ch proneness to sin. Whereupon S. Bernard comparing a Religious life with the state of Prelates and married people, saith very well, that we all labour to pass the great and dangerous gulf of this world, but with a great deal of disadvantage in some. Prelates pass, as it were, in a ship, which is not without danger, by reason of the continual tempests and storms, in which (as he speaketh) sometimes they mount up to heaven, treating of spiritual things, sometimes they descend even unto hell, passing judgement upon facts infernal. Religious men pass by a bridge, which is both a shorter, and an easier, and a safer cut. Finally Secular people that have entered upon marriage, and earthly possessions, pass neither by bridge, nor shipboard, but wade quite through; a dangerous and difficult passage (saith he) not minding which way they may best get through. It is evident, that it is dangerous, because we see many perish in it to our grief, and so few to get through as they ought; and it is very hard, specially in these days, when malice is grown so strong, amidst so many billows of this world, to shun the donwfalls of vice, and the many pits of mortal sins. This is S. Bernard's discourse, lively expressing their miserable, and our happy lo●, they taking so dangerous and troublesome a way, and we a way in which those three things do meet, to wit, shortness, easiness, and safeness, than which nothing can be desired more.  
6. What shall I need to stand speaking in particular of the several trades of life comprehended in a Secular state, 
The dangers o●●●●dents in the world's.  as Soldiers, Marchauts, Courtiers, Lawyers, and such as live by their pen? or which of all these can any way be compared with Religious? The most gentile of them all, be they that spend their days in st●●le, and may ●●siest of any others be saved, if they will use the knowledge of the things, which God hath created, as a step to the love and fear of God who made them. And yet how hard and rare a thing is this in the world, where every one hath his several pretences? and making preferment or gain, or fame and renown, the end of their studies, do spoil them in the setting-on and bring their thoughts and labours at last to nothing that which S. Bernard speaketh being most commonly true among them, 
S. Bernard 3●. in Cant.  this some desire to know that they may be known, which is vanity; others to know, which is curiosity; others to ●●l their knowledge, which is as it were to marchand it.  
7. Now if this Secular knowledge be subject to so many dangers, 
and of Courtiers▪  and in a manner nothing but an instrument of avarice and ambition, what shall we think of others, & chiefly of ●hose, that follow the Courts of Princes? Doubtless to make a comparison betwixt theirs and a Religious life, were to affront the sanctity of Religion. For though there be some little resemblance betwixt them in that both do serve, and both look for a reward of their service, yet in substance there is no comparison. For their reward is very casual, the reward of Religious people most assured; theirs is temporal and perishable, and, so and it never so big, it is in truth bu● smal● the reward of a Religious man is immortal, eternal, far beyond his hopes, far beyond the thought of man. The Masters whom they serve, are mutable and mortal, often froward and hard to please, let a man do what he can for them, and oftimes for a small offence the lose their favour which they laboured many years to gain. Our Lord and Master is so good and merciful, that he easily beareth with all our faults and negligences, and of his own accord offers to cure us of them; of whom S. Ambrose said truly and wisely, 
An excellent saying of S. Ambrose.  that he neither feared to die, nor re●●●d to live, because he served a good Master.  
8. This one consideration of 〈◊〉 great d●fference, which is betwixt serving men and serving God, 
A memorable example of two Courtiers out of S Aug●st●n c. 8. co●● 6.  duly weighed, hath been often the occasion that many ha●e ●e●t the one, to betake themselues to the other. S. A●●u●tin relateth of two serving in no mean place in the Emperor's Court, that falling upon the Life of S. A●thoni●, and ●●ading it were so changed, that presently they forsook the preterment and hopes which they had a● Court, and their wives which they had lately wedded, and finally all other things which they had in the world; and, as S. Augustin expresseth it, encouraging one another in this business, they reasoned thus among themselves: Tell me, I pray thee, what do we pretend in all there labours of ours? what do we aim at? to what end do we bear these Colours? Our utmost hope at Court, is it not to be in favour with the Emperor? And how fickle is this, and full of hazard? And by how many dangers do we come at last into more danger? and how long will it last? But if I will, behold, I am now presently the friend of God. Doubtless it was the holy-ghost that put this consideration and light into their mind. And certainly they were in the right, specially where they fell upon the account, that by many dangers of waiting, and flattering, and undermining others, of●●●es by slanderous reports, they come at last to get the ear of their Prince, wherein is the greatest danger of all: and for this they take a great deal of pains many years together, still uncertain, whether they shall ever compass it. But the savour of God is most assured; if I will, I presently put myself into it; and I shall nor need to fear, that after long service, I shall be cast off without reward. Wherefore as discoursing of marriage, we said, that if a body must needs be bound, it is better to be bound to God, who cannot but be good unto us, then to man, who is oftimes i'll, and though he be good, may become evil: so now we may say of service; if one must be tied to do another's will, it is much better to subject ourselves to the will of God, as Religious people do, then to the will of man. The will of God cannot but be good, and honest, and profitable for us to perform▪ the will of man is oftimes, yea rather most commonly w●●●●ed and unjust, and which is chiefly to be considered, always bendeth to the profit and commodity of him whom we serve. And this is briefly as much as we shall need to speak concerning the courses of this world in particular.  
9 In general we may say truly of all, that a Secular life must needs be full of a great deal of mischief, because self-will, which is the source and fountain of all mischief, doth bear all the sway in it, for our will being so corrupt and viciously bend as it is, 
Danger of the ●orld by reason of self will.  it cannot hold itself from running headlong now in●o one thing, now into another: and being withal to blind and infirm, and the passions of anger, and hatred, and lust, so violent and headstrong, and so little endeavour used to bridle them and keep them in awe, that rather by giving them continually the raynes, they grow so strong that they bear all before them, infinite mischief must needs come thereon both to soul and body. For where reason and counsel are shot out, and rash head oug●es taketh p●ace, all must needs be uncertain and full of misery, nothing constant and safe Heerupon we see in the world so many sudden and rash determinations, so many passionate resolutions; for as occasion serveth, and oftimes without any occasion at all, they enter upon n●w counsels of war, of trading, and other businesses, and alter them as rashly, as they were rashly undertaken; and no straight, no gulf hath more alterations of waves and billows, than they have of their proceedings; whereby oftimes themselves and their families come to utter ruin and destruction. Religious people being lead by advice of others, are free from these inconveniences; specially seeing (as I have said before, and must often say it, or rather we must continually have it before our eyes) not man, but God doth govern them: so that there is no danger, lest blinded with self-love, they fail in their choice. For in very deed they are not at their own choice, but others choose for them, and so the whole course of their life is governed after one constant, certain, and uniform manner.  
10. Moreover in a Secular life there be two other most dangerous rocks, 
Sloth and idleness, & too much business 〈◊〉 dangerous rocks.  and scarce any body, bu●●usheth against one of them, to wit, sloth and idleness, or else too much business. The first is most commonly the fault of the richer sort, the second of ●he poorer kind of people, or of those that would fain be richer than they are, of which kind the world is full. Idleness (as S. Bernard writeth very truly) is the sink of all temptation, 
S Bernard ad ●●a●. de mon●e Dei.  and of all unprofitable and naughty thoughts finally the height of malice. And as for the danger of too much business, the same S. Bernard doth describe it to a hair, in the beginning of the Books, which he wrote to Eugenius, of Consideration, saying, that it doth so harden the hart of man, that it can neither be rend with compunction, nor softened with compassion, nor yield to threats, nor be moved by entreaties, but is ungrateful for courtesies received, shameless in dishonest dealings, headlong in dangers, finally it neither feareth God, nor respecteth men, And S. Gregory understanding, 
S Gregory 5 Mor●. ●●  that the anxiety of a secular life was figured in Esau, and the quiet of a Religious life in jacob, of which one was given to hunting and husbandry, the other was a plain man, living at home in his tent, thereupon discourseth in this manner: What was designed by Esau's hunting, but their life that follow the flesh in outward pleasures? And he is also said to have been a husbandman, because the lovers of this world do the more earnestly labour in exterior things, the more they leave the interior uncultivated. But to dwell in tents, as in a house, is to restrain ourselves in the inward of our mind, and not to spend oneself outwardly in desires, least gaping after many things abroad, they depart wandering from themselves in their thoughts.  
11. Finally to maxe an end of this comparison, secular Lay-people, as times go now adays, either run headlong into all manner of vice, or if any live more reservedly & honestly, they think they do well enough if they abstain from sin, if they do not steal, if they do not kill, in brief if they offend not God; if they can do this, they are held rare men, and pointed at, as the best men in the world; Religious people do this, and moreover use their uttermost endeavour to increase in virtue; and purchase new crowns of humility, penance, mortification, and the like; whereunto Religion itself is a great spur and help. Which of these courses is the better and more profitable, might be declared many ways, which for brevity sake I omit, and will content myself with this one saying of S. Hierome, 
S. Hieromo ●d Demetr.  or whosoever was author of the book entitled to Demetrias, where he saith thus: It is not enough for thee to do no evil, if thou do no good. Every tree which bringeth not good fruit, shall be c●t down and cast into the fire; and yet we sooth ourselves, if we be not charged with i'll fruit, though we shall be condemned, if we bear not good fruit; so we read, that the Father will cut off every branch that bringeth no fruit in his Son; and he that hid the Talon, which he had received, in his handkereher, is condemned by our Lord as an unprofitable and naughty servant; not only to have diminished, but, not to have increased, is damnable. So saith S. Hierome.   

A Comparison betwixt the state of Religion and the Secular Clergy. CHAP. XXXVII.  
NExt above the Laymen is the degree of the Secular Clergy, much more perfect and nearer to God then that of the Laiety, and withal somewhat resembling a Religious estate, in regard they profess themselves servants to God, and are deputed thereunto by a sacred Character; 
Religion is a state of Perfection.  yet Religious men have the advantage of them in many things of no small importance. And first Religious men are in a state of Perfection, the Secular Clergy are not; for the nature of a state is to be immoveable, constant, unchangeable, which cannot be without obligation of Vow; and the Clergy make no Vow, not only if they have no Cure, but though they have; for they may relinquish it, and are not bound by any kind of promise to retain it. 
S. Thomas de pers. spir. ●. 20.  S. Thomas handleth this matter learnedly and at large in the Book which he wrote of the Perfection of a Spiritual life, by occasion of an error of some unlearned and wicked men, that to depress a Religious state were bold to compare the Secular Clergy with them, and also to prefer them before Religious. But their rash censure was expressly con●emned by a Decree of the Pope, and clearly confuted by S. Thomas in the Book above named, where among other things he saith, that when any body is disputed perpetually for an office or function, the Church useth certain rites and Ceremonies in it, as when the care of a Church is committed to a Bishop, he ●appoynted, and a certain form of prayer said over him, the crosier-staff and bread and wine is given into his hand, & a ring put on his finger, and many such other things are done, to show that he is as it were espoused to his Church, and tied perpetually unto it. The profession of Religious men hath in like manner certain rites and ceremonies, which are very ancient, and are related by S. Denys, 
S. Denys de Eccl. ●. ●. c. 6.  who also delivereth the reason and signification of them. And these ceremonies are to this day practised, some in one Religious Order, some in another, and some in every one. But Secular Priests when they take a Cure upon them, use no Ceremony at all; whereby we may gather, as S. Thomas saith, that they are not only not in a state of Perfection, but not so much as in a state.  
2. And moreover we may understand how far their life is inferior to a Religious state, because it is not only lawful but laudable to pass from the bare life of a Secular Clergyman into Religion, 
A Secular Clergyman may become Religious. C. 19 q 1. c. cleri●.  whereas certainly no man is suffered to descend from the greater and better slate to that which is l●sse; and the holy Canons have so determined, not only because a Religious state is more secure, but also because it is more perfect, and ordained in a certain place, that Clergymen that desire the institute of Monks, are not to be hindered from it, because they desire to follow a better life, and the Bishops must suffer them to have free access thereunto. And S. Gregory giveth Desiderius, a Bishop that held back one of his, a fraternal admonition, and it will not be amiss to see in what weighty words he doth it. 
S. Gre. l. 16. reg. ●p. ●0.  We exhort, saith he, that your Brotherhood be no hindrance to his earnest devotion, which he laboureth to have in the holy purpose; rather by Pastoral admonition inflame him with what exhortations you are able, that the fervour of this desire wax not cold in him, in regard that he that severing himself from the turbulent tumult of secular troubles, hasteneth to the haven of the Monastery, out of desire of quiet, ought not to be entangled again in the troubles of Ecclesiastical cares, but let him be suffered to remain safe from all them in the praises of God, as he requesteth. Thus saith S. Gregory very well; specially that a Religious life is a secure and quiet haven, and chose an Ecclesiastical function full of trouble, and unquiet with the tumult of secular cares.  
3. S. Anselm, 
S. Anselm  that holy and learned man, wrote an epistle much to the same effect, to Godfred Bishop of Paris, in good manner, yet withal gravely taxing him, for hindering one of the Clergy that was desirous to take upon him the yoke of Religion; and proveth by many reasons, that he had neither reason, nor warrant to do so.  
3. But that we may proceed the clearer in this comparison which we have in hand, 
The obligations & dangers of the Secular Clergy.  betwixt these two lives, let us consider the danger and difficulties incident to the life of a secular Clergyman. First, in respect of the dignity of his Order: secondly, in regard of the weighty charge of souls, that lieth upon him: and lastly by reason of his Church-livings and possessions. As for the dignity of his Order, who can deny, but that it requireth great uprightness of life and behaviour, great sanctity and integrity, and that a little salt in him, is so much the more fowl and unbeseeming? For certainly the degree of Priesthood is of that rank and esteem, that no Princely dignity upon earth, nor of any Angel in heaven, is equal unto it, in regard that none of them have power to consecrate the Body of our Saviour, to handle it, to receive and minister it to others: This power and virtue is Divine, and maketh them that have it, 
S. john Chrysostome Hom. 83. in Matt.  rather Gods than men. What purity therefore of life & soul doth such an office require? Whom must he not excel in purity (saith S. john Chrysostome) that offereth such a Sacrifice? What beam of the Sun can be brighter than that hand ought to be, which divideth this flesh? or the mouth that is full of this spiritual fire? or the tongue that is died red with this blood, which can never be reverenced enough? And S. Bernard doth with great reason bewail the rashness of men in this kind: 
S. Bernard ad Cler. c. 19  and his just lamentation agreeth as fitly to our times, as to his, and somewhat more: Every one runneth to Holy Orders, and men take upon them without respect or consideration, the functions which are venerable to the very Angelical Spirits, ●hey, in whom avarice doth reign, ambition beareth sway, pride doth rule, yea iniquity and luxury doth command, fear not to lay hands upon the Ensign of the the heavenly Kingdom, and put that Imperial crown upon their heads. Religious men are far from this fault; for though most of them be Priests (because the State should not want so great a dignity and benefit) yet they come unto it with an other spirit and preparation: not moved thereunto by avarice, or ambition, which the State itself exludeth, nor so much as by their own will and choice: for as in things of lesser moment, so in this chief business of all, they are ruled by others whom they have in place of God: 
Heb. 5. ●  and consequently seeing they take not this honour to themselves, as the Apostle speaketh, but are called by God, as Aaron, no doubt but his infinite goodness will furnish them, as he is wont, with abundant grace to go through with it.  
4. We have a memorable and pleasant example thereof in Rupertus, who was afterwards Abbot of Tuy, 
A memorable example of Rupertus.  and a great Writer. He relateth of himself (and we need no better witness) that being urged by his Superiors to take Holy Orders, and earnestly refusing it, knowing his own unworthiness, in the night he saw a vision, by which he plainly understood that it was God's will it should be so. He saw upon an Altar, an Image of our Saviour crucified▪ as if he had been alive, and looked full upon him; 
I. 12. in Matth.  at which sight he was much inflamed; and desired very much to embrace the Crucifix: but the table of the Altar being great and large, hindered him: yet he found himself by inward instinct invited by our Saviour, and coming near, the Altar divided itself, and made him way to the Crucifix; then he confidently laid hold of it, embraced, and kissed it: and our Saviour, to receive his kiss, as it were into his hart, opened his divine mouth, and received him gaping; where with amidst those loving embracings; his hart was greatly influmed with the love of God; & he found within himself a desire to be Priest, which before he so earnestly avoided. In the morning he related the whole passage to his Abbot, and was not long after made Priest, to the great joy and contentment of every body.  
5. The same Rupertus relateth another passage, by which, after he was made Priest, he was much confirmed and comforted. While he lay in his bed, he saw the likeness of a man coming down from heaven, with his head muffled, as if he would not be known, and entering wholly into him, fitted head to head, and feet to feet, and at the rest of his body to t●e 〈◊〉 or parts, hereof, and more 〈◊〉 made such an impression of himself into the substance of his soul, as cannot be declared by words, more quick, and more deep, than any seal can be printed upon the sufr●st wax. And he saith further, a thing which may be easily believed, that he found thereupon such a wonderful sweetness and delights, that had it not been presently stinted by the hand of God, without doubt the torrent of pleasure had taken away his soul from his body. All this was a sign of the holy Eucharist, wherein the Son of God doth hide his face, but yet truly infuse himself into our whole soul, and transform it into his own likeness, and fill it with heavenly joy; into the souls, I say, of them, that come unto him, as Rupertus did, not rashly, nor lead by any earthly desire, but invited, yea compelled by God by means of their Superiors. And certainly, if a body truly consider the weightiness of the business, and the importance of the function, he can never persuade himself, that he can safely undertake it, unless he be secured by some such Oracle.  
5. Seeing therefore no man can doubt of that which hath been said, 
The heavy charge of the care of Souls.  let us pass to the other point of the care of souls; at the heavy charge whereof, we may give a guess by that, which the Wiseman saith in these words: Son, if that have answered for thy friend, thou hast nailed thy hand to a stranger, thou art ensnared in the words of thy mouth, and taken with thy own speeches. Do therefore that which I say, 
Prou 6.1.  my Son, and free thyself, because thou art fallen into the hands of thy neighbour. Run, make haste, rouse thy friend; give not sleep to thy eyes, and let not thy eyelids wink. These are the cares and snares, as he calls them, in which he entangleth himself, that answereth for another, and not for one man only, but for many▪ not in a monie-matter, but in a business concerning the safety of a thing immortal and eternal, such as our souls are; and they that have taken this charge upon them, do not only offend, if by sinful life and evil example they hurt others (for this is the worst that can be) but by mere cessation, 
Ezech. 34.16.  if they do not help others, if, as the Prophet Ezechiel complaineth, they do not strengthen that which is infirm, nor heal that which is sick: nor bind that which is broken, nor bring back that which is strayed, nor seek that which is lost. Whereupon S. Gregory hath certain words which are very true, and greatly to be considered, 
S. Greg. Hom. 〈◊〉 in Euang.  in one of his Homilies, speaking thus: I am of opinion, saith he, that God doth not suffer more prejudice by any body then by Priests, when he beholdeth those, whom he hath placed for the correction of others, themselves to give others i'll example: when we ourselves do sin, who ought to keep others from sin, we seek not to gain souls, we daily attend our own ends: we covet earthly things, and earnestly hunt after the praise of men; And because, in regard we are set over others, we have greater freedom to do what we list, we turn the ministry of the Benediction, which we have received, to be a ground of ambition; we leave God's cause, and attend to worldly businesses, we hold the place of sanctity, and are entangled in earthly works. Religious men are free from these dangers, as having no charge of soules●; which they should have little cause to brag of, if they did not otherwise attend to the help of souls; for as they should be free from these incommodities, so they should want the great reward, which God doth promise to these that labour in his vineyard. But in my opinion they enjoy all the good that can be in so great a work, and yet are free from the dangers thereof: for they employ themselves in the help of their Neighbour so carefully, and diligently, and painfully, as nothing more can be expected; and yet because they do it of their own accord, without any tie or obligation, they are free from those sins, which follow upon the obligation which others have. And so we find it plainly delivered by S. Thomas, 
S. Thomas opus de per. c. 23.  that Religious men perform the offices of greatest perfection in the help of heir neighbour, more than other Clergymen, because most commonly by their Institute they travail in those charitable functions, not our of justice, as others of the Clergy, but out of charity, assisting Bishops in the cure of souls by preaching, hearing Confessions, public and private exhortations, and as many other ways as there be means in this kind, as every one may see with his eyes that so they do.  

Church-livings.  6. A third burden of the Secular Clergy is their Church-livings; which most yet think no burden, but rather labour all they can to increase them which they would not do, i● they felt how heavy they lie upon them. One day they will understand, both that they are a but then, and in how holy and pious uses these pensions bought by the blood of our Saviour, and consecrated unto him alone by the devotion of the Faithful, should have been employed. All Divices and holy Writers handle this matter at large; therefore because I will be short, I will content myself with the only authority of S. Bernard, 
S. Bernard Serm. 2●. in Ca●●.  who in one of his S●rmons upon the Canticles saith thus: The Clergy ought to fear, the Ministers of the Church may be afraid, who in the lands of Saints, which they possess, deal so unjustly, that they are not content with the stipend which ought to suffice them, but wickedly and sacrilegiously retain to themselves the superstuous things, wherewith 〈◊〉 needy were to be maintained, and are not afraid to consume the living of the poor in uses of their pride and luxury; offending doubtless with double iniquity, both because they take that which is not their ow●e, and abuse holy things in their vanities and filth. And I shall need to say no more of this point. For the reason is evident, & which to my knowledge, hath convinced some, and persuaded them to become Religious, discoursing thus with themselves: To what purpose shall I go seek to enrich myself by the Church? For when I have gotten something, if I do no: make the poor partakers of it, I live in continual sin: if I give them part, I live in perpetual care and trouble: and why should I go make myself steward to the poor, with so much damage to myself? This consideration, as I said, hath moved many to leave all, and embrace the nakedness of Religion. But let us conclude with this short argument.  

The Clergy in more dangerous condition than any other.  7. In the Church of God there be men of three conditions, which compared among themselves, will easily show what judgement we are to make of each of them. The first are Secular Laymen: who have this incommodity annexed to their manner of life, that they have in matter of perfection few helps and many hindrances▪ but withal they have this commodity, that they have no obligation to greater perfection, than the law of the Gospel doth lay upon all Christians in general. The second are Religious men, who are obliged, not so much to be perfect, as to desire and endeavour to be so, & have so many & so great helps thereunto, and are withal so f●ee from being hindered, that they may not only attain it with eas● and facility, but with a great deal of pleasure and sweetness. The third is the order of the Secular Clergy, of which we speak: which (if we weigh things right) suffers in a manner the incommodities of both the other S●ates, and wants the commodities of them. For first they have the same obligation to Perfection, which Religious men have, and are certainly somewhat more bound unto it then Religious men are, both in regard of the dignity of their office, and of the divinenes of the Sacraments of which they are Ministers, & of the Cure of souls, and yet have not those helps which Religious men have, no● that particular & p●ē●ful influence of grace, of which I have spoken at large before. And again, they may seem to be in worse case than Laymen, because they are in a manner clogged with all the impediments of Perfection which Laymen have, and cannot pretend the excuse which they may, if they be less perfect; for; living as they do in the world pel mel among them, and sailing, as I may say, the same seas, they must needs be tormented and toasted with the same winds and waves of avarice, ambition, and luxury, which they are; which vices being inbred and ingrafied in every man's nature, are also daily inflamed more and more, by the presence of delightful objects, by the occasions, and commodity of sinning, by liberty itself. For how is it possible to avoid the itching desire of vain glory, living in the midst of honours? Or not to be taken with the love of riches, when we administer them for ourselus and others? Or how can a man's honesty be long in safety, that beholds with his eyes, the self same allurements, as Secular people do, & pampers his body with the self same fare and attire, and is oftimes far more cautious and delicious than they?  
8. S. Bernard therefore had great reason to speak as he doth, 
S. Bernard p. 3. de conside. in sine.  among other things, of this degree of the Church, to Pope Eugenius, in his books of consideration: What is the meaning, saith he,, that the Clergy will be one thing, and seem another, to wit, soldiers in attire, and Clerks for gain? But indeed perform neither; for neither do they fight, as souliders; nor preach, as Clerks▪ O'miserable Bride, entrusted to such attendance, as fear not to turn into their own coffers, that which is assigned her for her wearing. And in one of his Sermons: 
Ser. de Conuers S. Paul  Holy Orders are made an occasion of for did lucre, and they esteem gain, to be pity; they are most wonderfully devout in undergoing, yea rather in taking the care of souls; but it is the least care they care for; and the last thought they have, is of the salvation of souls. Could there a heavier persecution than this, fall upon the Saviour of souls? In S. Bernard's opinion therefore, the greatest fault of that degree, is, that attending to their private interest, they neglect the care of souls, the advancing of the honour of God, the function of preaching and teaching; that living of the Altar, their last, and least thoughts be of serving the Altar, but are wholly bend towards themselves, and their own private ends. And if there be any that refuse not these Church labours, but employ themselves in preaching and exhorting the people; where shall we find a man that doth it, with the intention It ought to be done? That bestoweth his pains and labour, in this vineyard of our Lord God of Hosts, gratis? That truly aimeth at the service of God, and reflecteth nothing upon himself A rare matter and a hard piece of business, to preserve oneself in the world, from the world, that is, from all touch of secular desire; and contrari wise, it is too too easy and obvious, for the desire of honour, or some Eclesiastical presentment, or of a fat Benefice, 
S August. Ser. ●●. de Ver Domini. Philip. 1. 15●  or some other temporal commodity, to creep-in amidst those works, which of themselves are honest and laudable. And we need no other proof thereof, then that which S. Augustin saith, in these words: Hear the Apostle bewailing such men. He saith that others preach the Gospel out of charity; others out of some other occasion; and of these, he saith, that they preach not the Gospel right; an upright thing, but themselves not upright. Whosoever seeketh any thing of God, besides God, doth not seek God purely and chastely, if he did seek God, he would be chaste, because God is the lawful husband of a soul.  
9 Finally, let us grant that there be none of all the inconveniences in that manner of life, and frame a Clergieman, as ourselves can desire or imagine, that he want nothing that may beseem his calling, yet this his perfection is fatie inferior to the perfection of a Religious man, and comes far short of the many great commodities, of which I have hitherto treated. He wants the direction of Superious, the examples, and encouragement of his equals: he enjoyeth not that participation of good works, which is so profitable and useful; The plenty of spirit and grace more fully descending upon many so nearly linked together: finally, he wanteth the commodities of Poverty and Obedience, and which is the chiefest of all be he what he will, he is his own, and is not arrived to so much perfection, as to depart wholly, from the use of his own will, and by perpetual and irrevocable donation to yield it up to God; this being the privilege only a Religious Vows.  
10. Wherefore we may conclude this comparison of Religious men, both with the Secular Clergy and Lay people, with a fit similitude, which S. Bernard bringeth of a Procession, 
An excellent simili●●●e out of S. Bernard S 1. de ramis. 1 Cor. 6.20.  which our Saviour maketh, in which Procession he saith, there be three ranks of men: some strew their garments on the ground, which be Secular people, of the better and devouter sort, who of their earthly substance, which cleaveth to the soul out, wardly as a garment to the body, give alms. Others cut boughs from the trees: which are the good and fervent Pastors and Curates of souls, preaching to their subjects. Both which kinds of men, though they accompany our Saviour, though they both enter the city with him, yet the beast which he rid upon, was much nearer to him, and laboured more, because those other bestow upon him part of that which aboundeth: the beast puts itself wholly under his service. This beast ressembleth Religious people, who are meek, and gentle, and in outward show despicable, as the Ass our Saviour rid upon, yet strong, and serviceable, fit for carriage and Obedience, and so near the Son of God, as that they touch him, and receive him within them, and bear him about to others. Whereupon the holy saint turning his speech to his Brethren, concludeth thus in a kind of exultation▪ Must I say no more, that you may no● be proud, or rather go on, that you may have comfort? Are not you the beast whom Christ sitteth (according to the saying of the Apostle) glorifying, and bearing, God in your bodies▪   

A comparison of a Religious State, with the State of Bishops and Prelates. CHAP. XXXVIII.  

The heavy Charge of a Prelate.  NOw we are to consider whether it be better, more desireful, and more profitable for salvation, to be a Religious man or to be a Bishop or Prelate. And supposing the dangers to which all Clergy men are exposed, as I have declared in the precedent chapter, the Resolution is easy for the same, yea far grea●er dangers do attend upon 〈◊〉 sta●e of Bishops And those twothings which S. Austin 〈◊〉 r in a certain Epistle, 
S. Augustin apost 148.  are very true: That nothing is more easy, more pleasant, more grateful to man, than the office of a Bishop, a Priest, or Deacon, if a body carry the matter slightly, and favour himself in it: yet if a body do so, nothing is more miserable: more doleful, more damnable in the sight of God: For the Apostle pronounceth generally of all Prelates, 
Heb. 13.19. S Greg Mar. 24.4. ult.  They watch, as who are to give account, or our souls. whereupon S. Gregory giveth this pertinent admonition: Let him, saith he, that is perhaps scarce able to satisfy the rigorous judge for his own only soul, consider that when he shall come to give up his accounts, he will be found, as I may say, 
S. John Chrysost l z de Sacora●●ti●.  to have alone so many souls, as he hath subjects under him to govern. S. ●hon Chrisostome wrote fix whole books of Priesthood, in which he may seem to have employed all the golden eloquence, from which he takes his name, to show how hard and dangerous a task he doth undertake, that taketh upon him the government of souls: And among other things he brings a similitude of a shepherd, keeping, not his own, but another body's sheep, and if any of them come to be devoured of a wild beast, 
Gen. 31.39.  or be stolen, or be lost, as jacob said: he standeth answerable for them, because he undertaken to keep them. And if he lee●e a sheep or two, out of cowardliness, the master perhaps will easily pardon him, or take some small compensation: But he that hath undertaken the feeding of the flock of Christ, shall not escape unpunished, if he leesse such sheep, not satisfy with a nigh thing else, but with his own soul. A shepherd hath to do with wolves and thieves: A Prelate warreth not against flesh and blood, but against the Princes, and Powers, and Rulers of this darkness: against a huge army of vices, against whoredom, uncleanness, lasciviousness, rancour▪ brawls, jealousies, and many others: The diseases of sheep are commonly known and easy to be discovered, and the remedies are not hard, they may be bound and eat, and seared, as occasion serveth: The diseases of the mind are secret, & hard to be cured, 
Idem. l. 3.  some rankle and glow worse in the cure itself: This is S. John Chrysostom's discourse in his second book: In his third book he speaketh thus▪ If a man would put me in trust with a ship laden with rich wares to pass the Aegean or Mediterranean sea, I should not stand much upon the refusing of it, for fear of shipwreck, and yet there is nothing hazarded in it, but gold and silver: And where there is danger of losing not a ship, but a soul, and drowning it, not in the waters of the sea, but in the bottomless pit of Hell fire, where death expectes a man, and not corporal death, but together with the death of the body, the death of the soul, who can find is strange, if I refuse to expose myself ●● so great danger?  
2. S. Bernard calleth the care of souls, 
S. Bernard ●. 46. in Can●.  a thing deposited, and expresseth the worth thereof by these similitudes: It is a city, saith he, Be watchful to keep it safe and in peace: It is your spouse, be careful to love it, they are your sheep, attend to find them pasture: and runneth on discoursing at large of euerie one of them. And much more we may find every where in the holy Fathers, to the same effect; for they do often and very severely inculcate this truth, so real and solid, that no words can sufficiently express it. Wherefore what comparison can there be betwixt the continual dangers, care, and trouble of this estate of Prelacy, and the quiet, security, and holy retirement of a Religious life? an ample Theme to discourse on. 
S. Bernard Ep. 42.  But me thinks S. Bernard hath in few words knit up together all that can be said in this matter; When in his Epistle to Henry Archbishop of Sens, he speaketh thus; If I lurking in a den, and as it were under a bushel, not giving light, but smoking, am not yet able not withstanding to avoid the gusts of wind, but wearied with continual temptations, and diverse assaults, am waved up and down like a reed shaken with every blast, what would become of me if I were placed on high upon a hill, or set upon a Candlestiks? Here I have but myself alone to save, and yet to myself alone I am offensive: I am tedious to myself, I am a burden, and dangerous to myself; so that I am often fain to be angry with my own greedy appetite and gut, and my eyes that scandalise me; with what vexation therefore is he turmoiled, what affronts must he needs endure, who though he have nothing of his own to trouble him, can never want in behalf of others, conflicts without, and fear within? All this is S. Bernard's discourse.  

The Perfection of the State of a Bishop, and a Religious man.  3. Wherefore, seeing no man can be so blind, but that he must needs acknowledge that a Religious state is far safer, and nearer to eternal salvation, than the state of a Bishop, let us consider how the case stands concerning the perfection of them both: Both of them profess perfection, but not after one and the same manner. The dignity of a Bishop requireth that the man be actually possessed, and grounded in perfection; for Bishops are Successors to the Apostles; and consequently their office and function is a spiritual Mastery; one of the Apostles professing as much of himself in these words: 
1. Tim. 2.7.  I am placed a Preacher, and Apostle, and Teacher of nations, in faith and truth; and no man that is not himself perfect, can be a master of perfection, as no man can teach philosophy, or any mechanical art, that hath not learned the same. The state of Religion requireth not perfection, but leadeth a man unto it; it is the school wherein perfection is learned by little and little, partly by hearing them that teach it, partly by practice thereof Wherefore Divines do term the one a state of perfection already acquired, the other a state of perfection to be acquired: as wherein no man of necessity must presently be perfect, but it is sufficient if he aspire unto it, and endeavour by little and little to become perfect. 
S. Bonavent. Apol parch.  Which is the reason, as S. Bonaventure delivers, why sinners, and such as are imperfect are admitted into Religion, to wit, 
S. Hierome Ep. 138. ad Fab.  that they may be reform, and become good. And concerning Bishops, he brings this saying of S. Hierome: The learning and condition of a Bishop must be so eminent, that his very gate, and carriage, and all that is in him, must be as it were so many voices, that whatsoever he doth, whatsoever he saith, 
S. Thomas. op. de perf. c. 49.  be Apostolical doctrine. S. Thomas very learnedly doth gather this self same difference betwixt the two States, out of the words of our Saviour; for wishing a certain young man to embrace the counsel of Poverty, he showeth by the manner of speech which he held with him, that he was not yet perfect, but should be, if he followed his council: If thou wilt be perfect, go sell al. But being to ordain a Prelate, 
Mat. 19.21.  he did not ask him only whether he loved, but whether he loved more than others, 
Io. 21.15.  and asked him it three times over; either to express the great measure of charity which such an one ought to have, or as S. Bernard teacheth, 
S. Bernard. ser. 76. in Cant.  to give us to understand that whosoever is placed over others, must love God above all things that concern himself, above any friend of his own, above himself. Finally (to the end that the words sounding alike, make us not mistake the matter) both these States are perfect, and the State of a Bishop is in no small degree the more perfect of the two, yet so, as the State of a Bishop requireth perfection, and yieldeth it not, the State of Religion, yieldeth perfection, and yet requireth not altogether so much.  
4. The State of a Prelate differeth also from a Religious State, 
The danger of a Prelate in respect of the honour which he hath.  in regard that riches, and honour, and temporal goods attend upon the State of a Prelate, their dignity is eminent in the sight of men, they are reverenced and respected by all: whereupon most commonly it followeth, that their mind is carried away with the desire of these outward things, more than with desire of pleasing God, and serving him, and though they come to their dignity with great perfection, yet lying open to so many, and so violent assaults, it is half a miracle if they hold their perfection long, 
S. Greg 1. Pas. c. 9  and a rare thing to see them hold it. For as S. Gregory saith in his Pastoral: most commonly, amidst the occupations of government the very use of good works is lost, which in tranquillity we held, because while the sea is calm, every unskilful mariner is able enough to steer the ship, but when it is troubled with surging waves, a skilful Pilot is easily confounded. And what is the power of dignity, but a tempest of the mind, wherein the ship of our hart beaten continually with the storms of our thoughts, and wasted hither and thither without intermission, at last by sudden excess of desire and deed, doth as it were split itself by the way upon the rocks? And this is the case of a Prelate. Now with a Religious man it fareth quite otherwise, for poverty and humility, and the denial of our own will, waiting continually upon this State, no man can desire or embrace it, but upon the motive of attaining perfection; and it lieth not open to so continual and so dangerous combats: whereupon S. john Chrysostome, having in his books of Priesthood, discoursed at large of the snares and dangers which attend upon the dignity of a Bishop, 
S. john Chrisost. 1. de sacerdoes.  entereth at last into a comparison thereof, with the quiet retiredness of a Religious life, free from all these cares and troubles, and saith: that though sometimes some absurd thought may obtrude some such thing to a Religious man, yet the suggestion is so weak and infirm, that he presently puts it away with ease, because there is no outward matter whereupon the flame of that thought may fix itself. And a Monk takes thought for himself alone, or if he must sometimes have care of others of his own coat, it is not very troublesome unto him, being neither tied to wife nor children, and having all his subjects daily before his eyes, whereby he may easily espy their faults, 
Povertie the ea●●est way to perfection.  if they have any, and correct them. This is the sense of S. john Chrysostome: whereunto we may add, that though Euangelical poverty (as elsewhere I shall declare more at large) be not perfection, but a means to perfection, and such as it cannot be denied, but that we may come to perfection by other means also, yet it is so easy and compendious a way unto it, that no way can be more ready and certain. Besides that, it carrieth a kind of grace and Majesty with it, specially since it hath bean sanctified in the person of our Saviour, insomuch, that they that want it, though inwardly they be abundantly qualified with many rare parts, yet they want a kind of outward gloss and compliment of perfection.  
5. The last point of this comparison which we have in hand, is drawn from Example, more than from Reason, and from the Example of men that have been very memorable both for sanctity and wisdom, for in Religion we find an infinite number of them that have so resolutely refused Ecclesiastical dignities and preferments, 
Examples of Men that have 〈◊〉 the dignity of a Bishop. S. Bernard.  even when they have been proffered them, and have read such a lesson in this kind to the whole world, that it is much to be admired▪ S. Bernard was chosen Bishop in three several cities of note, and twice Arch Bishop, but could never be persuaded, to take the charge upon him, and doubtless more would have chosen him, but that they all knew, that it was in vain to make any such request unto him.  

S Dominick.  6. We read that S. Dominick refused four Bishoprics, preffered him at several times; and was wont to say, that he had rather dye, then have so heavier burden lie upon him: Two of his Disciples are renowned for treading the same footsteps: S. Thomas of Aquin, 
S. Thomas of Aquin. S. Vincent.  and S. Vincent Ferrera: S. Thomas constantly refused the Archbishopric of Naples, proffered him by Clement the third: and could not be brought unto it by no entreaty, nor persuasion, S. Vincent with like noble courage rejected first the Bishopric of Valentia, then of Ilerda, and lastly a Cardinalship, which Benedictus Pope offered him, having already prepared a Cardinal's Cap for him.  

S. Bernardin.  7. S. Bernardin of Sienna was of the same mind, and would never agree to be chosen Bishop, though he was in elect & of three several Towns, to wit, of urbine, Ferrara, and Sienna: and moreover, when Pope Eugenius once put a Mitre upon his head, as he kneeled before him, he humbly begged he would not urge it upon him, protesting that he would none of the dignity, to the end he might the more freely and largely employ himself in the help of souls.  

Andrews.  8. To these we may add, one Andrew a Franciscan Friar also, and nephew to Pope Alexander the Fourth▪ who being made Cardinal by him, resigned his dignity, and all that greatness which his nearness to the Pope had bred him; choosing rather to remain in the Religious humility which he had chosen, to the end, that when the hour came, he might be exalted.  

F. Laynes F. Borgia. F. Claudius jaius.  9 I might bring many more examples of the same nature out of the ancient Records of other Orders, some also of late years, out of our own, as of Father Laynet, and B. S. Francis Borgia, who should have been made Cardinals: and F. Claudius jaius, who was chosen Bishop; but did their uttermost endeavour to stop those proceedings, and at last overcame. It being nor only their own desire so to do, but the sense of the whole Society, all jointly concurring with much prayer, 
Masse●. 2. Vit Igna●ii. ● 12.  and many thousand of Masses, and much corporal penance and austerity to divert so great a danger and inconvenience from our whole Order. And having effected it, they sung the Te deum publicly, to express the joy which they conceived, and the greatness of the benefit which was befallen them. At which time it happened that there was a young gentleman of Portugal present, who beholding so great an expression of joy and gladness among the Society upon such an unusual occasion, was greatly taken there with, and much edified, and resolved there upon, as 'tis recorded of him, to enter into the Society, which accordingly he did; By which examples and many more of the same kind, which I willingly omit, we may gather to one purpose, what inward esteem those rare men had of a Religious State, in comparison of the state of Prelacy, behaving themselves, as they did in outward fact, in the occasions which I have mentioned.  
10. The same may appear by Example of many others, who having 〈◊〉 pressed and in a manner constrained, 
Example of Bishops who have lived in the Charge like Religious men. S. Martin.  by the express will of God, or by Obedience, to undertake this charge, have notwithstanding so carefully observed all manner of Regular discipline, that a body may easily see by them, they held the one as a burden, and the other, they esteemed an ease and recreation. In this kind, we read of S. Martin, that being drawn out of his Monastery by no i'll device, under colour of visiting a sick woman, to give her some ghostly counsel, as he was requested; the people of Tours lying in wait for him, took him by the way, and with one voice and consent placed him in the Bishop's seat, wherein when he was installed, retaining notwithstanding a love to his former quiet, he built a Monastery some two miles out of town, where he lived with his Brethren in so great humility and poverty (being particularly devoted to these virtues, as it is recorded of him) that he never severed Rachel from Lia, that is, the Contemplative from the Active life, but laboured in the one, in regard of his flock, and in the other in regard of himself and God.  
11. Cassian recounteth the like Example of one Archebius, 
Cass. c●ll. 12. c. 2. Archebius.  that being taken by violence from among those ancient Anachorites, and made Bishop of a City called Parephysis, he never slacked in any of his former exercises of piety and humility, neither took any delight in the honour which was put upon him, and was wont to say: that he was not promoted to that dignity, because he was fit for it, but rather was cast out of the Religious course he was in, as unworthy of it, in seven and thirty years, which he had lived in it, having not arrived, (as he said) to the purity of so eminent a profession.  
12. S. Bernard doth much extol S. Malachi, 
S. Malachi.  who being in election to be Bishop, did a long time at first withstand, that he might not be chosen, & when afterwards upon commandment of his superior, and also of his Metropolitan, he had accepted of it, he behaved himself notwithstanding in all points like a Religious man; For to speak in S. Bernard's own words. He served in the kitchen when his turn came, he waited upon the Brethren as they sat at table, & would not suffer that they should pass him over, when it was his turn to sing in the Church or to read, finally, he was not only partner with them in holy poverty, but the foremost in it, being chiefly and above them all, eager and ambitious thereof.  
13. The like is delivered of S. Fulgentius. 
S Fulgē●●u●.  He hea●ing that the Catholics were resolved to create Bishops in all the Churches which wanted, contrary to the order which Trasimundus, an Arian king had made, fled out of his Monastery, and kept close while many sought after him, till he was told by one that was of his counsel, that now all Churches were provided; being, returned to his Monastery, the people of Ruspa, who by chance still wanted a Bishop, flocked thither in great multitudes, and took him away by force, and did not entreat him, but compelled him to be their Bishop. When he saw himself thus circumvented, and could do no other, he desired the people they would do him so much favour as to build him a Monastery, in which, ever after he lived in perfect subjection to the Abbot Felix, as if he had been one of the least in the Company, and in all things belonging to domestical discipline, was wholly ruled by him, attending notwithstanding diligently and carefully to his pastoral charge, and not slacking in any part of his duty towards his people.  
14. Shall I omit that light of England, yea, of the whole Church, S. Anselm▪ 
S. Anselm▪  who whensoever he could steal himself from business into his Monastery, ever thought himself a happy man, And once he declared himself to his Brethren in this manner: Discoursing with them, as he was wont often to do, about Regular discipline, he showed himself much delighted with their sight and company, and in a merry fashion said: That he was like an owl; for an owl as long as he is in his hole with his young ones, is pleasant and jocund; but when he flies abroad among the Crows and jays, they all fall upon him, and beat him; so he, while he was with his Brethren, had great pleasure; but when he came among secular people, he was always troubled, and cumbered with much secular business; and moreover stood in fear and anguish, lest he might run hazard also of his salvation. And as he was thus merrily delivering his mind, 
job. 19.21.  he suddenly burst forth into tears, using that saying of holy job: Take pity of me at least you my friends, because the hand of our Lord hath touched me.  
15. S. Antonine also, hearing that Pope Eugenius the Fourth had designed him Bishop of Florence, coming from Naples, where he was at that time, thought to have fled into some desert Island, 
S. Anton.  and having attempted it, was brought back by some of his kindred to Sienna; where he laboured with all might and mayo●, by letters, by entreaty, and by friends also which he made, to avoid the charge; till the Pope half angry, threatened to excommunicate him; whereupon advising with some learned men, and finding them all to be of opinion, that he could not with safe conscience withstand it any longer, falling flat upon his face, and weeping bitterly, he stooped to that Pastoral charge; yet so, as he forsook not the burden of Religion: For he altered neither diet, nor apparel; and ordered his house, as if it had been a Monastery; and often went into the kitchen, and scoured the pots, and did such like other household offices, as it were to ease the troubles of his Pastoral charge, with those Religious solaces. What more pregnant proof can a man have, that Religious humility is far more to be desired, than the dignity of a Bishop, then to behold so many Religious men, and all of them eminent in sanctity, either constantly to refuse that degree of honour▪ or when they could not refuse it, and had trial of it, always to esteem it as a heavy burden, and bear it with grief; and with all, continually to retain their Religious practices, either as a solace of their charge, or that they might not want the benefit, whereof they knew full well, the excessive greatness.   

A Comparison betwixt a Religious life, and the life of an Heremit. CHAP. XXXIX.  
WE read that in Ancient time, the solitary manner of life of Hermit's, was in great veneration among men, and much honoured of God: Who called many famous men unto it, and made them admirable to the world, both by the splendour of many rare and excellent virtues, and the glory of Miracles; yea the perpetual rigour and austerity of life, of many of them, was a continual miracle. Such wore the Paul's, and Hilarions▪ two or three of the Simeons', the two Macharia●, and many other great Lights of the deserts, whose deeds, and sayings, and examples, have always borne great sway in all matter of Perfection. But this kind of life and way of sanctity is now almost out of use. yet it will not be a m●le to compare the benefit of a Religious life, such as now a days is more frequented, with the heigt and rareness of that kind of perfection; to the end, that seeing it never a whit inferior to that, which in all things was then so eminent, but rather that in many things it hath the advantage of it, we may the easier know, what esteem to make thereof within ourselves. And upon whom can we better or more assuredly ground our discourse in this kind, then upon that famous Abbot, john? 
Cass. coll 19 c. 3.  who as Cassian recordeth, when he had lined thirty years in company of others in a Monastery, betook himself afterwards into the wilderness, 
The opinion of Abbot john concerning this point.  and there remained full twenty years; and then in his old age and ripest judgement, after so long experience of both those courses, having lived in them both, with great rareness of sanctity, returned again to live with others; and made choice to end his days in a Monastery; and being asked the reason why he did so; he discoursed at large of both kinds of life, as having made long trial of them both, and concluded, that a solitary life had this commodity, that severing the mind from all earthly things, it gave it the more freedom to unite itself to God, as near as human infirmity will give it leave: But a Monastical life had a double commodity, to wit, that first it doth teach a man to mortify, or (to use his own word) to crucify his own will, and inclination, so that he may humbly say with our Saviour: 
Io. 6.38.  I came not to do my will, but my fathers that sent me; Secondly, that it freeth us from taking care of any thing that concerns the body, and thinking of tomorrow, as our Saviour speaketh; and leaves the provision thereof, which is so troublesome and so full of infinite distractions, wholly to those that govern us.  
2. S. Basil, 
S. Basil. reg▪ fus. q. 7.  setting down the question in these words: Whether a man that is resolved to forsake the world, were better to live apart from others, or in company of others of the same mind and purpose; maketh ready answer, that for his part he is fully of opinion, that it is better for many reasons, that many live together in one house or seat. And he doth not speak it, as meaning to bear it away by the strength of his own single authority, which notwithstanding were sufficient to carry it, he being known to be so worthy a man in all respects; but brings many solid reasons for it, and reckoneth up many commodities of living in company with others, which in brief are those.  
3. First, 
Reason's why it is better to live in company of others.  he that liveth alone, must needs want many good things; and cannot make much use of those which he hath; For no one man can have all things, but some have one thing, some an other; that by exchange of duties & courtesies bestowed upon one another, Charity might be maintained, and that which is given a man, is not given him for himself only, but for the benefit of others also: So that in S. Basils' opinion, a solitary life hath two incommodities in it; first, that it cannot supply by others, what itself wanteth; secondly, that if a man have more good parts in him, 
Mat 25.27▪  them may be for his own use, they are in a manner lost, because they are not put out to profit, but hidden under ground, which our Saviour in the Gospel doth much condemn. But where many live together, a man lives upon his own, and helps others also wi●h it, and makes use of that which he finds in others, as much as if it were his own.  
4. Secondly, he that liveth in company with others, if he sail in any thing, is told of ●●, reprehended, and corrected for it: and as S. Basil saith, the concurrence of many in it, doth make the greater impression in him; because no man is so obstinate, as not to prefer the opinion of many, before his own single judgement, 
2. Cor. 2.6.  and yield ●o the correction which proceedeth from many, as the Apostle speaketh to the Corinthians. But in a solitary life, it is very hard to know when we do a miss, because vice is sotile, and we willingly persuade ourselves that we are well. Besides that, though the secret judgements of God should be forcible enough to restrain us, yet human infirmity is more carried by them that they see and hear: as all are naturally much moved with that which falleth within compass of sense: reason, and saith, have nothing so much force: and we find by da●ly experience, that we stand more in owe of men when they are present, then o God and his Angels whose eyes we know we never can, nor do escape. Whereupon S. Bernard saith well: 
S. Bernard Ep. 115.  The evil which no man sees, no man reprehends, where we fear no● a controller, the temp▪ our is more bold to come: and wickedness is more freely committed. But in a Convent, if thou do any good, no man hinders thee, and thou art not suffered to do evil, though thou have a mind to it: it is presently discovered by many, presently reprehended, and amended: as contrariwise all admire, all reverence, all imitate the good which they see. Thus saith S. Bernard. And Cassian is of the same opinion, to wit, that in good company vices are much more reproved: & being never let alone, but still laid open, they are quickly cured.  

Io. 17.  5. A third commodity of living together, ariseth from the union of minds and communion of mutual offices, and of all things else: which as it is much commended in the Gospel, so it cannot be performed in fact and deed, when a man lives alone, howsoever in Will, he may be well inclined thereunto: and of this S. Basil speaketh thus. If all of us gathered together in one hope of our vocation be one body, and have Christ for our head, & are every one of us a part of one another: truly unless we agree also to be linked together in the holy Ghost, and jump one with another in the likeness of one body, and not lead a life every one b● himself, severed from communication with the rest, how is it possible that in such a distraction, and as it were co●●ision, or separation, the parts should sympathize among themselves, and perform their duties one towards another? For being so severed a sunder, we cannot rejoice w●th those that are glad, nor have compassion of those that suffer, because the very separation, makes that we know not in what stare they stand. This is of S. Basile.  
6. A nother special commodity of living in common, is that, as nothing is more dangerous, according to the opinion o● S. Bernard, 
S. Bernard s●r. 1. de 〈◊〉 ●earful Examples of those that hau● failed in a so 〈…〉 ●a●●●n. col. 2. ● 15.  then to suffer the devil to si●g●e us out in a combat so continual, and about a matter of so great weight and consequence, as is life everlasting, and to ●i●ht alone hand to hand with h●m: so nothing is more secure than to be where we may have help of many▪ that fight together with us. We may read the tragical ends of diverse, that living many years in the desert, have fasted and watched much, and performed many notable things, and at last spoilt all, being circumvented by the deceits of the wily serpent, or overcome by that terrible lion and dragon: as Heron: who as Cassian reporteth, when he had served God forty years, cast himself headlong into a well. And another, that foolishly, or wickedly, became a jew, and was circumcised▪ Which kind of mischances hapening very often among those solitary people, we cannot imagine any other cause thereof, than that one man alone is too weak, and 〈◊〉 to withstand the brunt of so continual and to hearse assaults. That great Theodosius, who was, as we read, father and governor of so great a Monastery, understood this very well; for being persuaded, when he was a young man, by Simeon Sitylites, 
The saying of Theodosius.  to forsake the world, he was doubtful within himself a good while, whether he should enter upon a Monastical, or upon a solitary life; but at last, having considered every thing, preferred the living in common, far before the other; for as he said, if in an army no man is so foolish, or so rash, as to forsake his rank, and himself alone to set upon the whole host; much less must we do so in this spiritual combat, which is far more hazardous, and wherein we have to do with an enemy that is far more terrible.  
7. The fifth utility of living in common, is not inferior to the former, to wit, that it is not so subject to spiritual pride, as is a solitary life, wherein the danger thereof is very great; according to that saying of S. Hierome: 
S. Hierome ep. 4.  In the desert pride quickly creepeth upon us and S Basil giveth the reason thereof in these words: Having no body with him that can judge of what he doth, it is easy for him to think that he hath abundantly done enough; whence it followeth that the state of his mind being hidden, and private to himself, he understandeth neither what he wants, nor what profit he hath made in virtue: For in what can he show humility, who hath no body under whom to humble himself? Or what testimony can he gi●e of his charity towards others, living a part from every body? Or how shall he exercise patience, when no body doth withstand his wil  
8. By which words of S. Basil, we do not only understand, that it is easier to get the virtue of patience in a Monastery, by reason of the company in which we live, and by means of obedience; but we are put in mind of an other commodity of that life, which perhaps also is greater than any we have as yet spoken of; for it compriseth all virtues; which doubtless are gotten by practice, and practice requires some matter whereon to practise, and matter there can be none, in a solitary life, as we hear S. Basil saying: For if we speak of charity, upon whom, saith he, will you exercise it▪ If we speak of humility, under whom will you reckon yourself to be? And the like we may say of pity, and compassion, of mercy, and obedience, and other such virtues; and of vices also; for where there is no occasion at all of them, we cannot know, whether there be any such thing in us or no; much less can we root it out and extirpate it. 
Cassian. l. 8. c. 17.  Inso much, that Cassian saith, that the vices which we carry into the desert not cured, are so far from healing by length of time, as that rather they grow worse and worse: For a man thinks himself humble & patient, saith he, as long as he comes in no bodies company; but when occasion is offered, whereby he may be stirred, he will quickly find nature work again: Then the vices which lay hidden in him, presently, show themselves, & as unruly horses, which have been long kept-in & said, break the more violently & fiercely over the bars, to the utter undoing of their Master; for vices if they be not cured, grow more fierce in us, for want of exercise and contrary practice: Wherefore, if we believe Cassian, people that have little or no conversation with others, may oftimes be in a great error, thinking that they are free from some vice, which possesseth them, or that they are possessed of some virtue, whereof they have none. 
A subtle error in matter of virtue and vice▪  And the reason is, because it is easy to allow of virtue and love it, & contrariwise to hate & detest vice, while we consider the nature of each of them within ourselves; for the beauty of the one, & the deformity of the other▪ is such, that they naturally make impression of love or hatred in the mind; which people find, and reflect not on it, they think presently they have the virtue, because they feel that they love it, and most commonly they are deceived: for it is one thing to think well of virtue another thing to have the habit, of virtue; wickedmen think well of virtue, and in a moment they frame a favourable conceit of it, and it is but an act of our understanding and reason: but good men only, have the habit of virtue, and get it by time and practice, and it is seated in the will and affection. They therefore that live a solitary life fall often into such like errors; because they have no means to try themselves, and bring their virtue to the touchstone. Trial discovereth these deceits, and the occasion layeth open our faults if we have any. In company this is often offered, in the wilderness never so that it is with them (as Cassian saith in an other place) as it is with serpents; for as long as they are in their holes, 
Cassian. ●. 18  they hurt no body, not because they have no poison in them, but because no body comes near them, to take harm by them; but if occasion be offered them, than they spit their secret venom: And S. Basil in the discourse before mentioned, laugheth at them that aim at virtue by mere speculation, 
S. Basill.  and consideration of it; and saith, that it falleth out with them, as if a man would learn the trade of a Carpenter, or of any other handicraft, only by considering the precepts, and rules thereof, and never practising any thing: for he will never be able to compass it; which saith he, S. Paul doth insinuate when he saith: 
Rom. 2.13.  Not the bearers of the law are just in the sight of God, but the doers. And our Saviour showed us, when he did not only in words teach us humility, but added his own example, girding the towel about him, and washing the feet of his servants.  
9 Another thing wherein living together hath advantage of a solitary life, is, that a solitary man, as S. Basil discourseth, thinks of no bodies good but his own: 
1. Cor. 13.5. 1. Cor. 1●. 33.  which saith he, is apparently against the law of Charity, which seeketh not its own; which law we find that the Apostle did exactly observe, not seeking his own benefit but of many, that they might be saved; And a little after, he sticketh not to call it a dull and barren kind of life: in regard that no action directed to the benefit of mankind, doth follow upon the contemplation which they have of God. And S. Augustin having enlarged himself much in commendation thereof, 
S. August. de moribus. Eccl. cap. 31.  yet addeth at last, that many think it to be too much retired from that which belongeth to man, because it taketh no kind of pains, or labour for others: And that which S. Leo saith is very true; No good man is good only to himself, and no wiseman's wisdom, is beneficial only to himself: 
S Leo Ser. 3 de Santo Lauren●.  and the nature of true virtue is, to draw many out of the darkness of error. Wherefore they that live in company with others are much to be preferred, in regard that every one endeavours according to his ability to do good to others; and their light shineth to others also, according to the commandment of our Saviour, 
Matt. 5. 4●.  and thereby they glorify their Father who is in heaven. Which thing S. B●●●il doth make no small account of. In a solitary life though many excellent things be performed, yet they lie all hidden in darkness nothing appeareth whereby the goodness of God may be proclaimed, nothing wherely men may be provoked to follow them; wherefore there can be no doubt but that the race of virtue wherein many run together, is both more pleasant, and more profitable, then where every one runs alone by himself: and S. Bernard doth with reason make account, 
S Bernard 〈◊〉 3. de Circum.  that the temptation is in a manner equally dangerous, if, a man that is resolved to serve God, think to do penance amidst the troubles and cares of the world, or chose, enter upon a solitary course of life; and saith: that neither of them do well consider their own weakness, nor the danger which is in combatting with the Devil.  
10. And this may suffice concerning that manner of solitary living, 
How much inferior a retired life is to a Religious course.  which was in use among those ancient Hermit's of old: new a day's people practise another more mild, and easy kind of solitude, leading a spiritual life privately in their own houses, quiet, and free from all earthly and it kesome business: with which kind of course they are so taken, that they think it a securer way, and l●sse subject to trouble and disquiet, than a Religious life, but they are far awry: For though it be something that which they do, if we consider it in itself, for they do better, than they that out of ambition or covetise, follow the Court, or troth from market to market, and from one Fair to another: Yet if we set them in comparison with Religion, they are so far beneath it, that they are not worthy the speaking of. For first they want all the commodities which wait upon a life in common, as through this whole book I have showed: and they are subject to the same inconveniences, which a solitary life is: and finally, they are so much worse than the Eremites of old, in regard that they of old betaking themselves into their dens and caves, forsook the world quite and clean, and bad Adieu to all riches and kinsfolk. These men retain all these things: and so do not perfectly renounce that which they have, but rather living with it, live in the midst of so many deadly enemies: For it is the saying of Truth itself; 
Matt. 10.36  The enemies of man are his domesticals: And are in continual danger to be overcome by the occasions they are in, and so to forsake the service of God, and the way of virtue upon which they had entered, and returned to the broad and spacious ways of the world, upon the confines whereof they dwell: And though they do personer, where is the virtue of obedience? a virtue so rare and excellent, and of so great merit and consequence, where is the denial of their own will? where is the exercise of true humility? where is the Hundredfold, and the rest of the rewards and honours promised to the followers of a Religious life? Wherefore if a man be of the mind to overcome the world in his own house, and home, certainly if he desire it indeed, he should be better advised, to betake himself to the house of God, that is, into Religion, and rank himself with the host of God, where he shall more easily and more constantly overcome, and find more plenty of grace and glory. 
Deus. 4 14.  For why should he not do that which he intendeth, with perfection, and the service which he is minded to offer to God, offer it in the manner that may be most pleasing to him, and most profitable for himself? And he may do well, to call to mind the law which declared that the beasts, which had little wings, and yet did creep on the ground, were all of them unclean, and not to be eaten of: which was not without great mystery, and figureth those, that having received a good will of God, whereby they may list themselves up from the ground, as it were with little wings, will notwithstanding still cleave to the earth, and thinking they may do both, and have one foot in the world, and the other in the service of God, are rejected from the service of God, as beasts that are unclean.   

Of the benefit of a Religious vocation. CHAP. XL.  
BY this which hath been said of the benefit of a Religious vocation in generally there considered in itself, or as compared with other States, it is manifest, that it is the most compendious, and safest way of any o● her, to bring us to heaven; and that all other States of life, in comparison thereof, may be said, to sail, as it were, at the mercy of the wind and w●aes and dangerous rocks in open sea; and that this only course of life is now even in the harbour, secure from danger, within sight of eternal salvation; which is the land for which our whole sleet, as I may call it, is bound: And consequently we must acknowledge with thanks giving and it is great reason we should do so● and profess with excessive joy and pleasure, that of all benefits which God can bestow upon a soul in this world, this is the greatest; and for as much as concerneth a course and order of living, he hath not any thing to add thereunto in this our banishment and pilgrimage, that can be more worthy or more beneficial. 
S. Bernard 〈◊〉 Ingr●●.  S. Bernard discourseth li●ely of this subject in one of his sermons, earnestly exhorting his Brethren to be grateful to the divine goodness for so great a benefit, and among other passages hath these words: Great, and very great is the mercy of our God over us, having by the strength of his spirit so unspeakable, and by some ●timable a gift of his grace, drawn us from the vain conversation of this world, in which we were sometimes without God, or which is more detestable, against God, not ignorant of him but contemn 〈◊〉 him: And I would ●o God the ugly Image of the l●se, or rather of that death (for the soul that sinneth is dead) were always before our eyes, beholding how great blindness, ●ow great wickedness that was; that continually weighing in our thoughts the po●●e of his mercies, we might esteem of the greatness of his commiseration by which he ha●● delivered us, if not to the full value thereof, yet at leastwise in some competent measure 〈◊〉 if any one of us be careful to consider diligently, not only from whence he is delivered, but where he is placed; not only what he hath escaped, but what he hath recea●ed, not only from whence he hath been reclaimed, but whether he is called, doubtle, he will find that the heap of this mercy doth far exceed the greatness of the former.  
2. Two things therefore, according to S. Bernard, are to be considered in this bench▪ 
The misery of the world out of 〈…〉.  The Extremity from which we are delivered; and the term in which we stand. For certainly the benefit is the greater, by how much the evil which we escape is more grievous. As if a man be set free out of prison, he is the more obliged to 〈◊〉 that setteth him free, the more hideous and nasty the 〈◊〉 was, wherein he was held. And what was our Prison? The world full of mischief and misery; full of sins, which is the greatest misery of all others; full of ambition, and looseness, and infinite dangers. The world, where we find no order, but a perpetual confusion of all things, darkness, blindness, inconstancy; The world, the laws and Maxims whereof are extreme pernicious, the examples deadly, men and Devils innumerable provoking us to sin; let us therefore give care to S. Leo, 
S. Leo 5.10. in quadrag.  who as he often treateth of this subject, so in one of his sermons particularly he saith in this manner: It is very hard, and difficult, to s●ay the unsettlednes of our hart from all manner of sin, and where innumerable allurements of vanity on every side do speak us fair, to yield to no kind of corruption. Who toucheth pitch, and is not defiled by it? Who doth not yield to weakness in the flesh? Who is of so eminent purity, as to receive no stain from the many things, without which we cannot live? And thus much concerning the evils from which we are delivered.  
3. Of the blessedness of the life, to which we are translated, 
S. Bernard.  S. Bernard speaketh in brief many things, and these are his words: Which, I beseech you, is this so pre●ious a Margarite, 
The happiness of Religion to which we are called.  for which we must give all, that is, ourselves, to have it? For he that hath offered himself to God, hath given all unto him: Is it not Religion, holy, pure, immaculate? Wherein a man liveth more purely, falleth more seldom, riseth more suddenly, walketh more w●r●ly; is more of ten watered, resteth more securely, dyeth more confidently, is poorer purged, and more abundantly rewarded. What can a man desire more? Or can there be a greater benefit than this, which containeth in one so many benefits? Or be placed in matters of greater weight and importance? What can a man desire in this life more available for salvation, or more likely to maintain a continual peace and tranquillity of mind and body all the time of our life? 
S. john Chrisostome. 〈…〉 Vux Mo.  S. john Chrysostome hath a long elaborate discourse to this purpose, showing evidently, that far more softer shipwreck in the world, then in Religion, and are in far greater danger, and giveth three reasons for it. First, because more things trouble them; Secondly, because they live more negligently and carelessly; 
Three reasons why living in th● world is more dangerous.  Thirdly because they are more weak and fe●ble. chose, in the life of a Monk, saith he, the waves are not so great, rather they have continual fair weather, and a quiet season, and their endeavour in breaking and over coming the seas, is far more earnest. S. Caesarius speaketh eloquently, and well to the same point, in one of his homilies to his Monks: We know, saith he, that there is a great reward laid up in the life to come for the spiritual warfare, to which we have bound ourselves; but if we mark it well, we are in a manner in present possession of part of the reward in the work itself which we have in hand: 
Casarius. Hom. 5. ad Man.  And certainly it is a very great benefit of this course, that we have had the power to contemn the world, and begin to serve Gods that we have shaken off the miserable command which sin had over us, and escaped the filthy slavery of gluttony and lust: And is it not a great reward to have nothing to do with the world? not to be troubled with desire of vanities? not to be acquainted with any enormous crime? to lead an innocent life? to live in blessed Chastity? to possess sufficient with the fear of God in glorious poverty? whereof Wisdom speaketh 〈◊〉; 
Prou. 15.16  Better is a small portion with the fear of God; then great treasures without fear.  
4. Let us therefore consider how much God hath bestowed upon us, in this holy vocation; let us reckon, if we can, what gain we have made from the time which we have been gathered together in this place; from how many cozenages; from how many adulteries, thefts, perjuries, sacrileges, we have been delivered; and then we shall feel how much we are also obliged to God for the present benefits. If we were now in the world, what should we do other, then wallow in sin, and defile our soul with daily stains, and gore it with daily wounds, and not so much as feel them? For this is the property of wicked custom of sinning, that the more a man sins, the less he understands his sins; and the more he is delighted to sin. And on the other side, the more careful a man is of himself, the more he feareth. All this out of S. Caesarius.  

The honour which God doth a man in calling him to Religion.  5. Whereunto we may add, that God hath not only done us the favour to deliver us from under the power of the Devil and sin; but exalted us to the height and splendour of Euangelical perfection, which doth mightily raise the value and esteem of this benefit; and no words are sufficient to express the greatness thereof; yet we will endeavour to declare it in some measure by the example following. For as if a great and mighty Prince had an enemy, that by many treacherous ways had diverse times sought his utter undoing and destruction, and it being now in the Prince his power to kill him, he should notwithstanding not only willingly pardon him, but be friends with him, and take him into his house, set him at his board, and give him an honourable place among his royal issue; so falleth it out with Religious people, for the infinite goodness of God, not contented to raise us poor and needy snakes his enemies, from the earth of our vain imaginations, or from the dung of our loathsome sins, hath ennobled us moreover so far, 
Ps. 112.8.  as to rank us with princes, with the princes of his people, that is, with those, that for as much as concerneth their own perfection, hold the first and chiefest rank in the Church of God, 
S Bernard. s. de Ingrat.  which S. Bernard doth as he is wont, most sweetly express in these words: Finally, if perhaps forsaking fornication, we had remained in conjugal Chastity, and not embracing the council which we know is given of a single life, but abstaining from rapine and fraud, had lawfully used that which was our own, not arriving to the Euangelical perfection, whereof it is written: If thou wilt be perfect, go, and sell all that thou hast and follow me; 
Mat. 19.27.  how great a mercy had it be●n, if, I say delivered from so many sins, in which many of us being entangled, expected nothing but death▪ and the sentence of most certain damnation, we might have breathed in some inferior degree and course of life? The prodigal Child durst not aspire to the rank of Children, but thought himself happy, if he might but deserve to be admitted among the hirelings. 
Lu. 15.19.  But fatherly love could not content● self, without showing him mercy in so abundant measure, as was able to make the elder brother, that had never departed from his father, envieth in for it: So, d●erely beloved the mercy of our God, abundantly poured forth upon v●, hath of children of wrath and distrust, not only received us among his elect, but called us into the congregation of the perfect. Thus saith S. Bernard.  

A 〈◊〉 saving of ●ordanus.  6. ●ord●nus first General of the Blackfriars after S. Dominick, a man of great sanct t●e and authority, hath a notable saying to this purpose. Having clothed a certain 〈◊〉 in the holy habit of his Religion, in the presence of many of h●s 〈◊〉 Companions, he made a long discourse unto them of the happiness of a Religious State, at which they wept most bitterly; whereupon he turned his speech unto them, and told them they ought not to weep, for they were now to part from this their friend, but rather out of envy, that he had chosen the better part by far, than they; because Religious men serve God in nature of gentlemen of the privy chamber to a Prince, with whom he is ever inward and very familiar: But secular people, if they serve at all, they serve as it were in the kitchen or in some other meaner office. Therefore it were far better for them to open their eyes, and consider, that the door is open for them also, if they have a mind to enter, and sit at board with the king. And his words fell not upon the ground, for one of the Company never went further, but presently betook himself to Religion, and all the rest soon after took in at the same port of salvation.  
7. And certainly if we cast up the particulars of all the great commodities whereof I have at large discoursed, 
The Benefits of Religion summed vp●n brief.  we shall find, that in this one benefit of Religion, all in a manner is contained, that we can possibly desire: a consideration, which we should always have before our eyes, & have deeply imprinted in our hearts. For here we have perfect remission of all our former offences, as in a second Baptism; our flesh is tamed by holy sobriety; we are at leisure to think of heavenly things; and severed from all that may any way hurt our soul. The will of God, is the rule of our actions: and all kind of virtue in continual, and vigorous practice. here we receive direction from Superiors; light from particular Rules; abundance of inward grace; increase of meri●; comfort in fraternal charity; mutual assistance; and part of all the good works that are done among us. All which are in themselves wonderful beneficial: but withal, greatly ennobled and embellished by the golden link of our vows, and crowned at last at the hour of our death, with that security which a state so remote from the world, and so near bordering upon heaven, and heavenly things, doth usually bring unto us. To the accomplishment and preservation whereof, do concur, the particular love, favour, and protection of God, and our B. Lady; a thing wonderfully to be esteemed, both for the profit and pleasure which accompany it.  
8. Seeing therefore we find so much wealth and riches in a Religious State, 
Religion a hidden Treasure.  what can we reckon it to be other, than the Treasure hidden in the field, which when the man had found, 
Mat. 13.44.  for joy, he went and sold all that he had, and bought that field? For certainly Religion may most truly be called a Treasure, or rather it containeth an infinite Treasure, seeing it hath within it so infinite riches, and such abundance of wealth, not of one kind only, but all manner of wealth heaped in a mass together. Now he that findeth a Treasure, hath great advantage over another man, that is rich by trading, or otherwise; for he that trades (for example) cometh to his wealth by much pains and labour, and runneth many hazards in the purchasing thereof, and it is long before he get it together: but he that finds a treasure, lights upon all together, without labour or danger, and in a moment is raised to excessive wealth and happiness. But it is not every body that sights upon it, but rather very few. So secular people increase their stock of virtue by much and long striving for it, and oftimes they suffer shipwreck, and in one hour, lose all that they had laid up together in many years, by falling but into one mortal sin: which alas! how easy, yea how da●ly a thing is it, in a sea so full of shelves and tempests? A Religious man findeth a Treasure, and consequently is far more happy, because all at once is heaped and thronged upon him. The state itself and vocation, breatheth as it were into his hart the spirit of Poverty, and a particular affection to Chastity, and Obedience, as things contained in the very spirit of Religion; and withal it giveth him all other virtues, as necessary attendants, partly flowing from those three, and partly needful for the upholding of them. A treasure, where not golden jaspars', or orient Pearls, but more precious and truer Gems, of great esteem and use, not only in earth, but in heaven, are heaped together: But yet a hidden treasure, because few do know the value of it, few do find it; for that which our Saviour said of eunuchs, 
Matt. 19.11.  is very true, not all take this word, but to whom it is given, and where is it hidden? In the field, a place void of company, free from the noise of Ambition, from toilsome traffic, from the Courts of Princes, and yet not in a wood, or upon a hill, but in a field, where people use to plough and sow, and bestow labour in manuring the ground; all which agreeth fitly to Religion, for it is severed from the turmoils of the world, and cultivateth the mind with all spiritual industry, sparing no labour, precaution, mortification; and it can no sooner be laid fair open before our eyes, by the light which God doth give us, but presently our mind is so violently taken, and inflamed with desire of it, that no strength, no bonds can withhold us, from running to possess ourselves of it, and that with joy, as out Saviour speaketh, not weeping and lamenting, as if a man were to undergo some great trouble or cross, but as to a joyful, and gladsome, and fortunate business; in fine, as to a Treasure.  
But the more precious the thing is, the more ought we to consider, by what means we may come to the possession of this happy field, wherein so great a treasure is hidden; 
The price of the field is to leave al.  for we cannot have it for nothing, but must buy it, and buy it at the rate, at which our Saviour, who hath it to sell, hath set it; that is, by selling all that we have, and buying it therewith. To purchase this field, we must forgo all possessions, Monies, preferments, friends, parents, kinsfolk, ourselves; which is bo●h most exactly performed by entering into Religion, and is not easy to say how it can be done otherwise. Where, by the way, we may consider the goodness of God in no● determining any certain sum of money or wealth, lest he that could not make so much, might be excluded from the purchase of so worthy a thing and ha●h withal out of his infinite wisdom ordained, that the price should be, not so much to give what we had, as to forsake it; to the end, that whether we have much, or whether we have little, or nothing at all; we may be all admitted to the purchase, so we leave all, and retain nothing to ourselves, not so much as the hope, or possibility of having any thing. By which means in very deed we do not wholly relinquish that which we leave, but we make an exchange thereof for that which is far better, and better worth; purchasing so incomparable a treasure, at so easy a rate; a treasure wherein we shall have the price we gave, returned upon us again, and infinitely, more added unto it. 
S. Hierome Epist. 16.  Which S. Hierome telleth us in these words: We receive more them we ga●●, we forsook a small thing, and have entered upon great possessions, the promises of Christ are performed with return of hundred fold.  
which being well considered, and proving so true and certain, as doubtless it is, what hart can be so cold, as not to burn with desire, and love of so precious a Margari●e, so inestimable a jewel and Treasure? or who is there that hath already bought it, but will esteem so highly of it, as certainly to prefer it before kingdoms, and seats of honour; and make account of all gold and silver, as a little sand, or dirt, in comparison of it, and love it above health and beauty; or if he have not yet bought it, will esteem any thing too precious to bestow upon it, and not rather, as S. Gregory speaketh in this very subject, 
S. Greg. Hom. 11. in Euang.  willingly forsake all that he loved among earthly things, foregoing that which he had got, distributing that which he had gathered together, and thinking the beauty of earthly substance which pleased him before, deformed, in comparison of the lustre of this precious Margarite, which now only shineth in his mind?  
8. Aegidius, 
The advice of Aegidius a Franciscan Friar.  one of the first stones in the famous buildings of the order of S. Francis, a man of so great sanctity, that when he heard the name of God, or of Heaven, he was wont to be presently transported out of himself, is reported to have made this amswer, to one that asked his advice, whether it were best for him to enter into Religion: Tell me, said he, if a poor man should come to know for certain that in such a place there lay hidden a great treasure; would he stand to advise, whether it were best for him to dig there or no? The man answered, No: Then, said he, with how much more alacrity and readiness should men run to the infinite Treasury of God, where only are the true & eternal riches? which the man understanding, went presently and sold all that he had, and having given it among the poor entered into Religion.  
9 The same holy man being once demanded, whether a man might remain in favour with God, and live in the world, made answer, that he might, 
The same Aegidius preferreth one degree of Grace in Religion, before ●o, in the world.  but he had rather have one degree of grace in Religion, than ten in the world, because grace is easily preserved and increased in Religion, where a man lives sequestered from worldly troubles and tumults, which are deadly enemies of the grace of God; and moreover is encouraged and egged on to virtue by his spiritual Brethren: In the world Grace is easily lost, because secular care, which is the mother of distraction, doth hinder and quite take away the sweetness of grace, and by their evil examples people provoke one another to evil, and withdraw one another from that which is good, and as it were by force, take a way the life of the soul, and throw it headlong into everlasting destruction; so that without doubt it is much better to have far less grace, so it be secured and assisted with so many helps to increase it, as are in Religion, then to have far greater grace, with so evident danger, 
The vision of S Anselm.  as is in the world. These are the very words of that holy man.  
10. Wherefore let us conclude what we have hitherto said, and much more which might be said, of the misery of this world, and of the greatness of this treasure, that is, of the happiness of a Religious life, with the heavenly vision, in which both these together were declared to S Anselm, of whom we find recorded, that being once in an extasis, transported out of himself, he saw a mighty swift River, which drew all the filth of the whole ca●●h into itself, so that the water thereof was most horribly fowl and stinking, and beside, it carried away with it whatsoever it met, men and women, poor and rich. Which sight moving him to great admiration and compassion, he asked how those people lived, and what was their sustenance? and it was answered him, that they drank of that filth wherein they wallowed, and took great pleasure therein, miserable creatures as they were; and withal, the vision was declared thus unto him: That the Torrent was the world, wherein people are blindly carried away with their riches and honours, and unlawful delights, and though they be so infinitely miserable, that they cannot temper themselves in any thing, yet they esteem themselves fortunate and happy men: From thence he was carried into a large spacious seat, walled round about, and the wal● being all covered with beaten silver, made a most glorious show; within this enclosure he beheld a pleasant meadow, full grown with grass of a strange nature, for it was as silver, and yet grew, and was soft and pliable; so that when he sat down upon it, it gave under him, and rose again, when he rise up. The air was most sweet and pleasant; finally all things were so delicious in it, that a man might think himself abundantly happy, if he had no more but that. And this he was told was a Religious life; God showing him by these similitudes, that in the world all things are vile and loathsome, fickle, deadly, and ever tending to destruction; and contrariwise in Religion, all things beautiful and pleasant▪ finally bright, and sumptuous, as silver.    

THE SECOND BOOK, OF THE HAPPINESS OF A RELIGIOUS STATE.  

THE PREFACE. That a Religious State is not only profitable, but honourable.  
BEhold how good, 
Psalm. 132.  and how pleasant it is, to dwell Brethren in one! As the ointment in the head, which descendeth upon the beard of Aaron: As the dew of Hermon, which descendeth upon mount Sion● because there our Lord hath commanded blessing, and life for ever. A great commendation of a sociable life, a life lead in common together; and great promises, and rewards of Fraternal love and conjunction, set forth, not by man, but by the holy-ghost, who cannot be mistaken in the weight of his praises, nor miss of the performance, of what he promiseth: And both the praises of this life, and promises of the holy-ghost do so properly, and apparently agree with a Religious State, that no man can doubt, but the Royal Prophet, when he uttered this prophety, had the frame and Idea thereof before his eyes, and beheld so long before, the beautifulness of this form of life, 
S Basil. Const Mon, c. 19  in the divine light then communicated unto him. Which S. Basil delivereth, when speaking of Religious people, and discoursing at large of their happiness, in conclusion he saith, that the Prophet David in his Psalms, sung thus of them: Behold how good, and how pleasant it is, to dwell Brethren in one! Expressing the holiness of their life, by the word, Good; and the contentment, and joy, 
S August. in Psal. 132.  which arriseth from so great concord and union, by the word, Pleasant. And learned S. Augustin, interpreting that Psalm, teacheth no less, making no doubt, but that the whole Psalm, was penned purposely, of Religious people; and declareth withal the great force which the, Good, and contentment here described, hath to work upon men's minds: These words of the Psalter, saith he, this pleasant sound, this sweet melody, both in the ear, and in the understanding, begat Monasteries: This sound awaked the Brethren, who have coveted to dwell in one: This verse was their Trumpet: it was heard over the whole earth, and they that were before divided, were gathered together. Thus spoke S. Augustin, and very truly.  
2. For first, 
Religious men properly are Brethren.  the name of, Brethren, doth so fully express, that which passeth in a Religious Community, that there could not be a word devised, to signify, the thing more lively, because as Brothers, they have one, and the same Father, one and the same Mother▪ all receive the spiritual life which they lead, from one God, by the seed of the Holy Ghost sown in their hearts, and are conceived in one and the same womb of their Mother, Religion, begot, not by virtue thereof, but by the virtue of God, as I said, and Religion feeds them all, with one milk, nurturing them, and bringing them to perfection, 〈…〉 true and natural Children.  
Though to the Prophet's mind, the name of Brethren, did not sufficiently declare the union, 
Act. 4.32.  which is betwixt them that are linked together by so straight a bond, and therefore he added, that they dwell in one, that is, are all one together; which is so true of Religious people, that it is in a manner proper to them alone. For as the same S. Augustine observeth, they live ●o together, that they are all as it were but one man; and that which is written in the Acts, is verified of them; One soul, and one hart. Many bodies, but not many hearts.  

Cass. Col●. 16. c. 3.  Which unity, is the more to be esteemed, because it is not grounded upon neernes of place, but upon spirit, and consequently distance of place, doth not divide it; because, as Cassian speaketh, the Cohabitation of manners, and not of places, joineth the Brethren together in the eyes of God. And as the dwelling in one house, availeth little, where there is not agreement of minds, and conditions; so the distance of place, hindereth not, where minds and affections consort together.  
Wherefore with great reason, the sweetness, and profitableness of this life, is compared, to an Ointment, 
Religion Compared to the Priestly ointment.  and to dew: And to no ordinary Ointment, but to the ointment, which was used upon Priests, an ointment, most fragrant, and odoriferous, and consecrating them to God, upon whom it was wont to be poured: To give us to understand that they who enter upon a Religious course, and meet together in this brotherly society, are consecrated to God, and consecrated as Priests, themselves being a daily Sacrifice, and offering to the Divine Majesty every day many Sacrifices, and oblations of themselves. No wonder therefore, it from so great perfection of virtue, such abundance of sweet odours do issue, 
2 Cor. 2.16.  as to replenish the whole house of God, which is the Church, and to make Religious people themselves, both amiable, and admirable to all; and as the Apostle speaketh, and odour of life to life to many others, inflaming them with love of the like virtue and perfection.  
3. Moreover, as the Priestly ointment, was so perfectly good and fragrant, because it was compounded of many odoriferous ingredients, so (as I have said more at large elsewhere) the beauty, and benefit of Religious people is the greater, because the virtue and sanctity of many, doth meet together. In which respect S. Basil comparing a solitary life, with a life lead in company of others, preferreth this; because, as he speaketh, that Good, 
S. B●s●● reg. ●us. disp. c. 6.  and Pleasant thing, to wit, the cohabitation of Brethren, in the same house, which the holy Ghost compareth to the fragrant ointment running down from the head of the high Priest, can have no place, in the single habitation of one man alone. The sweetness of which ointment, doth not remain in the head only, but descendeth, to the very skirt of the garment; which S. Augustin doth learnedly, 
S August.  as all other things, interpret to be, either the latter times, in regard that so great excellency of virtue, was reserved to the fullness of the Gospel; or perfection itself; because as the garment ends in the skirt, so saith he, they are perfect, who know how to dwell together, they are perfect, who fulfil the law.  
4. Now as the Odoriferous sent of that ointment, expresseth the pleasantness of this course; so the similitude of the dew, 
The spirit of Religion to dew.  declareth the profit of it. For as dew is engendered in the air, by the heat of the S●nne, and cooleth the selfsame heat, and giveth contentment by the freshness which it hath; so this heavenly spirit, whereof we speak, coming only from heaven, falleth upon them, that forsaking earthly things, are inflamed which the sole love of God, and cooleth in them, all love of things inferior, and extinguisheth the unquiet heat of concupiscence. And it falleth not as a sudden shower of rain, with great noise and violence, but like dew, so small, as no man perceives it, but he that hath it, and he that hath it, doth not only find pleasure in the temper of the inferior heats which possess us, but profit by the fruitfulness, and plenty of good works bestowed upon him.  
5. And this dew is not promised indifferently to all, but to the high and craggy hills, of Hermon, and Zion, which signify Religious souls raised above all earthly things and contemning the world, as inferior and base; and no river can overflow them, that is, they are not taken with delight of any of the transitory things, which they have forsaken. These hills stand in need of the freshness of this heavenly dew, and if it may be said to be due to any, it is due to them, to the end that having before hand, in this life, a taste of that future happiness, which we all expect, they may be the more inflamed with the love, and desire thereof.  
Wherefore in this state, thus improved and mended by the dew distilling from above, thus sweetened and softened with the fragrancy of divine ointments, with great reason hath God commanded blessing and life for ever, that is, not any temporal or short life, or blessing, but a blessing and life eternal, and never fading. For here is great measure of the true knowledge, 
john. 17.3. john. 6 63. 1. john. 3.14  of God, which as our Saviour telleth us, is our true life. here the word of God sounds continually in our ears, which word, is spirit and life. here we love our brethren by which we know, as S. john speaketh, that we are translated from death to life.  
6. But all are not lead by profit, many rather set little by the point of profit, and aim at honour and preferment, that which S. Bernard saith, 
S Bernard. Serm 4. de Ascens.  proving very true: All of us are desirous to ascend, all covet to be exalted, we are noble creatures, and carry a high mind, and therefore naturally desire highness. Wherefore seeing God hath made so great account of a Religious state, as to enrich it so many other ways, he cannot be thought to have left it bore of honour, and suffered it to be in glorious, and contemptible; rather it is certain, that either there is no worth at all, in the spiritual works of God (which were madness to think) or if there be any in his other works, 
The dignity of Religion  most of all in a Religious state, as in one of the chiefest, and rarest of all his works. For where as the Majesty of virtue, is so great, that though there were nothing else to commend it, this majesty alone would make it shine like a light in the midst of darkness; Religion being the proper seat and kingdom of virtue, must needs partake of the same splendour and Majesty, and the more, because it is so coupled with virtue, that Religion without virtue, cannot subsist so much as in the thought of man.  
7. And in some sort, a Religious course of life, hath somewhat more than virtue; because every body cannot discover the worth, and dignity of virtue; some are so dull as they conceive nothing at all of it: but a Religious course, hath not only inwardly wherewith all to delight the eyes of the spiritual, but outwardly it hath that also, which draweth the vulgar into admiration, and in my judgement, even for matter of worth and nobility, it is not only equal in greatness with the world, but far above it.  
This second book therefore by the help of God, shall be spent in declaring the dignity of Religion, a subject, in itself pleasant, and wherein a Religious man hath particular reason to rejoice.  
8. And it is no small testimony of the dignity thereof, that we find such an infinite company of men, 
A great testimony of the dignity of Religion.  that have so joyfully spurned at the honours, and worldly prefers, 〈◊〉 which they might have had, and forsaken them which they had, or at leastwise infinitely desired to forsake them, to enjoy the happiness of a Religious life. For the desire of honour, being so natural to man, as I have said, it cannot be thought that the bare consideration of profit, could put so much Zeal and fervour into them, but that together with profit, they saw great honour and worth in the business.  

S. Gregory.  9 And among many strange examples in this kind, we shall hardly meet with one more signal, then that of S. Gregory the Great; who having lead a Monastical life from his youth, and being afterward made Deacon of the Church of Rome, was notwithstanding so taken with the love of his former Religious course, that being sent Legate by the Pope to Constantinople, he would not put himself upon his journey, but in company of some of his Monks, that because he could not himself remain in his Monastery, be might, as it were, carry a Monastery along with him.  
10. And which is more to be admired, when he was chosen Pope, in that height of honour (than which there is not a higher upon earth) he did so continually mourn, out of desire of Religious quiet, that almost all his writings are full of his tears; And particularly in his Dialogues he speaketh thus: My unfortunate mind, gored with the wound of excessive business, 
S. Gregory in pro●mio Dialog.  calleth to remembrance what a life it lead once in the Monastery, how far all transitory things were beneath it; how far it was above all things that pass away; how it was not wont to think but of heavenly things; how confined within the body, it did pass the bounds of flesh, by Contemplation: and death, which to every one most commonly, is a grievous pain, was welcome to my mind, as an entrance to life, and a reward of the labour past. But now by occasion of my Pastoral charge, it is moiled with business of secular people, and after the comeliness of so goodly a quiet, which it had, it is disfigured, with the dirt of terrene actions. I weigh what I suffer, I weigh what I have lost; and while I behold what I have forgone, that which I endure is more grievous unto me. For behold now, I am tossed in the waves of open sea, and in the ship of my mind, am beaten with the storms of a mighty tempest, and remembering the state of my former life, as it were casting my eyes back, I sigh at the shore which I see behind me.  

11 Regest ep. 4 & seq.  11. Thus spoke S. Gregory; and much more else where to the same effect, and with like inward feeling. And by this his complaint gives us sufficiently to understand, that out of his own practice, he discovered something in ● Religious life, so beautiful and excellent, that in that height of promotion, he would have been glad of it, and was sorry that he wanted it. And his example ought to weigh the more with every body, because he was so great a man, and having had experience in his own person, of both kinds of life, could not notwithstanding quench the love and desire of the one, which he had not, with the great greatness of the other in appearance, which he possessed.   

THE SECOND BOOK OF THE HAPPINESS OF A RELIGIOUS ESTATE.  
HOW BASE ALL EARTHLY THINGS ARE. CHAP. I.  
THAT which a Religious life aims at, and the Essence thereof, is utterly to abandon all earthly things: I do not say the love of them only (for that all must do) but the very use of them, so much as may be, which all are not obliged to forgo. To understand therefore, the benefit of a Religious course, and much more the worth and dignity thereof, nothing can be more necessary, then throughly to conceive, and establish as a certain ground, how imperfect, and abject all things of this world are by nature, and how unworthy the love, and care of man. For so a Religious man, will be easily persuaded, to be content to want that, by the absence whereof, he sees he shall suffer no great loss; and secondly that which here we intent, will be plain to every body, to wit, what makes a man truly honourable, and wherein true worth doth consist.  
2 First therefore all earthly things, 
Earthly things little in themselves.  let them carry never so fair, and magnifical a show, are in deed but bare and slender, and of little value; which we shall find the sooner to be true, if we look not upon the particulars, severally; but comparing them with the rest of the world. For if we take the whole earth, and consider well what it is, compared with the other Elements, and with the large circumference of the heavens, we shall find it is the least of them all, and indeed of no great compass; great part of it, is hidden under water; part of it taken up with hills, and mountainous places; the remainder divided into Provinces, and kingdoms; kingdoms again into cities, and towns; towns into houses, and domains, and the several possessions of particular men: what a small parcel now, God wot, falls to the share of every particular?  

Socrates.  3. Socrates the Philosopher, hath a grave and witty saying, to this Purpose. For as it is recorded of him, perceaving that Alcibiades took great pride in hi● wealth and large possessions, he drew him a side to a map of the whole world, and desired him to show him Attica (which was his country) in the map: and when he had readily pointed at it, he prayed him to show him, where his lands, and possessions lay in it; he answered they were not set down in the map, Wherefore, then, replied Socrates, art thou so proud of thy possessions, seeing they are 〈◊〉 part of the earth▪ But the error is that men think gold and silver, and wealth, and possessions, great, not because the things are great, but because themselves are little; as Emitts make account of their little nests, as if they were large palaces, and bestow as much labour, and toil, upon a handful of grain to carry it in, and lay it up, as if they had got a mighty purchase.  

And of no value.  4. Yet if the things that are so small in bulk, and quantity, were in price and value any great matter; a man might give some reason, why they should be desired; but if we enter into the very bowels of them, and consider whereof they are made, we shall find that they are composed of the known elements, whereof some are more subtle and clear, as fire and air; some more gross and foggy, as water and earth. Whatsoever we see, or handle, or take contentment in, is but a compound of these four things put together, and in all of them, the earth, which is the most lumpish, and base of any of the rest, hath the greatest part by far. In the mixture therefore of these things, can there be any thing so very much to be admired, seeing the simples by themselves are so mean? Or what sense is there in it, to make so great account of a little earth, and to keep it so charily, under so many locks, and keys, if it have a colour which pleaseth your eye; and to tread the same earth under foot, and make account of it, as it is, when mingled with water it is but dirt? For that which S. Bernard saith, 
S Bernard ser. 4. the Advent. S john Chrysosto. ser. 2. de vit. Dom.  is very-true, Gold and silver, is it not but white & red earth, which the error of men only makes or rather esteems precious? And long before Saint Bernard, Saint john Chrysostome made the like observation. And he saith well, that it is not made, but esteemed precious; because the judgement of man, when it falls to be according to truth, can neither raise, nor pull down the price nor true value of any thing; much less a false and erroneous persuasion, which people frame to themselves.  
5. And if we look yet nearer, into the substance of things, which are most esteemed, we shall find it more certainly to be as I say. For what is Pearl, but the excrement of a shelfish? And yet people now a days, use it to set forth the beauty of their countenance. Wherein it may seem to some, a ridiculous thing to set so little by the whole shell, or the fish itself, and to value, the thicker, and harder part thereof, at so high a rate. What are gems, but stones▪ What is silk but the bowels of an ugly worm? What is Cloth, but the fleeces of sheep, which we account silly things, when they are a live? What are Ermines and ●ables, but skins of beasts? What are stately buildings, porches, and palaces, but a heap of stones, 
The laporians treasure.  set in order? We find that the japonians lay up in their closerts, and treasury, birds painted upon paper, trivetts, and brazen kettles: and esteem highly of them, not for any neatness of fashion or workmanship, (for there is no such thing in them) but for bare antiquity; insomuch that a thing of this nature, though it be quite worn, and eaten away, is sold among them for two, and four, and sometimes for six thousand Crowns. And when Christians laugh at them, for casting away so much money, upon such trifles, they laugh at us as much, for buying stones and such other commodities at so dear a rate. For their things, say they, are most of them for some use and service, ours serve for nothing. And certainly they have reason to tax out error, but that they are in the like errors themselves, and it falleth out among us as with mad men; that perceive well enough one another's folly, but see not their own.  
6. A third thing, 
All things are variable.  of far greater consideration is, that this small parcel of goodness, which is in earthly things, is not permanent, but runneth like a continual stream to nothing which at first was the beginning of it. To which purpose Saint Augustine saith excellently well. 
S. Aug. 4. Conf. c. 10.  All things rise and fall; and rising, begin to be, and grow to perfection, and when they are come to perfection, they wax old and perish. For all things wax old and all things perish. Therefore when they rise and grow, the faster they grow in being, the more hast they make not to be: for so their measure. And gives a solid and very plain reason, why their measure and fashion is so, because every particular thing, being part of the whole universe, and the whole, being a compund of things part, and things to come; some things must needs give way that other may have place, and so the whole successively be made up: for as when a man uttereth a speech, we cannot understand it all, unless the former syllables and words pass, and others, and others come successively after them, so if things were permanent in this world, they would hinder the rest that are still to come after, & the whole, would not be complete in all parts. And this is the greatest, and most intrinsical defect, which all things have that depend of time, that they pass away as fast as time itself; and run hand in hand with it, full as speedily as it, though nothing be more swift than time. 
S. Leo. ●. de 〈◊〉.  Where upon Saint Leo gives us this good admo●●ion, that we make account of all temporal things as if they were all ready past; and his reason is, because the better part of them, is not; for that which is past, is quite gone; that which is behind, is not yet come; that which is present is but a moment of time. 
S Greg. 21. mor. c. 1.  And Saint Gregory saith to the same purpose, that to place one's trust, in things that pass away, is as it were to lay a foundation of a building upon the running waters. God standeth for ever, all other things pass away. What therefore is it to fly from him that standeth, but to cleave to that which passeth? For who was ever carried with the swelling stream of a swift river, & could himself remain immoveable, the water bearing him downwards. He therefore that desireth not to slide, must avoid that which slideth, lest by that which he loveth, he be forced to come to that which he shuneth: for he that cleaveth to a shipperie thing, must needs slide with it, to the place where that which he holdeth, goeth. And he hath the like saying in another place of the life of man, which may be applied to any other thing. 
Id. 25. more, c. 2.  To live saith he, with a necessity of dying, is as it were, to journey towards death; for as many days as pass of our life, so many paces we draw nearer the place intended in our journey. And the very adding of time, is a diminishing of it, because the space of our life, which begins to be, begins equally as much, not to be.  

〈…〉 16.10.  7. And yet again, if this succession of things were to last any length of time, people might have some comfort in the term they had in them. But alas, how short, and unsettled, is this term! How suddenly is it ended? yet a little while, saith the Prophet, and the sinner shall not be. And in another place. Man is like grass, 
〈◊〉 102.11. ●ac 4.14. Ioh● 1.13. S Greg. 15 m●r. 24  his days l●ke the slower of the field, so shall he perish. And S. james compareth man's life to a vapour; job calleth it a point. Upon which place S. Gregory writeth thus. The whole length of time, of this present life appeareth evidently to be but a point, when it cometh. For whatsoever could have an end, Was but short. And that we might not think that he speaketh only of them, that are taken away by untimely death in the prime of their youth, he repeateth the same more expressly elsewhere in these words. 
〈◊〉 5. mor. c. 2.  If we look back, from the beginning of mankind to this very time, in which now we live, we shall quickly see, how short it is, seeing once it could have an end. For if there were a man that having been created the first day of the world, had lived till this very day, and this days should make an end of his life that seeme● so long; behold the end is come; that which is passed is nothing, because all is gone, that which is to come in this world, is also nothing, because he hath not a moment more to live. Where then is that long time contained betwixt the beginning and ending! It is consumed as if had never been.  

Every thing uncertain.  8. Which incommodity, hath yet a greater, to wit, that this small pittance of time, which nature hath allotted, to the things of this world, is uncertain. Every thing is subject to so many chances, and adventures, that most commonly in the midst of their course, they give us the slip. By nature they are so brittle, that every little encounter breaks all to pieces, as i● they were ma●● of glass. The chances are so many, and so frequent in the world, by roberies, tempests, war oppression of great men, and infinite other accidents; that it is not conceavable how easy it is, for every thing to perish, & to be changed from one to another. But easily may be seen, that it is the hardest thing in the world, to keep any thing long. Which S. Bernard expresseth in a homily which he made of the deceitfulness of this life in these words. 
S. Bernard 〈…〉  Men take pleasure in meat, they take pleasure in pomp, and pride, they take pleasure in riches they take pleasure also in vice, & time. But sorrow entereth upon the latter end of this joy & pleasure, because the pleasure which we take in a thing that is changeable, must needs change, when the thing is changed. We light a taper; it is not the pure element of fire, but a torch' a taper, and the fire itself consumeth that which feeds it, and is not fed, but by consuming, & as the matter cometh to an end, the fire also faileth. As therefore smoke, & darkness, waits upon the end of that flame, so the pleasure of every joyful thing, endeth in sorrow. Thus saith S. Bernard excellently well. specially that all these temporal things, are so very unconstant, that they are not only subject to be taken from us by external violence: but decay suddenly by the very use of them, and fall away, by little and little, through our fingers, while we handle them, as mere and drink, and apparel, stately buildings, and the like, how can therefore that long continue, which is continually eating out it seize.  
9 Which was the ground as I take it of an answer which S. Macarius of Alexandria is reported to have made to a certain Tribune. For passing the river of Niles with another Macarius, and being both of them but poorly clad, and in fashion somewhat contemptible, and two Tribunes passing in the same boat, richly apparelled in cloth of gold, with a great train of horses and followers. One of the Tribunes spying the two servants of God sittling in a corner of the boat, said unto them. You are happy that make a fool of the world. It is true said S. Macarius. 
S. Macarius.  We make a fool of the world, and the world makes fools of you. With which short and saddaine reply the man was so strucken at hart, and his understanding so enlightened, that when he came home, he presently made away all he had, 
S. Bernard ser. 〈◊〉.  and betook himself to Religion, performing that which S. Bernard adviseth in a certain place, saying. It is better to forsake the world, then to be forsaken by it. And penetrating the truth of that which S. Gregory delivers in his morals. 
S. Greg 18. mora●. 12.  We cannot long remain with the things which we have, for either dying we leave them, or they perishing do as it were leave us, while we live.  
10. But let us suppose the goods of this world were great, 
The manner of enjoying the creatures of this world is but base.  and certain, and long to be enjoyed, is the use and possession of them in that fashion in which we have them, a matter much to be esteemed? For if we enter duly into the manner of it, we shall find that all the joy we have in them, is by means of our five senses, which are common to beasts, and wherein many beasts go far beyond us. And consequently the manner of enjoying them is but base and infirm, and the joy we have in them but very small For our sight only takes pleasure in some, as in pictures, and images, and the beauty of fields and woods. In some, out taste; some serve for nothing but to be kept locked up in chests. Others are so far from the owner's reach, that they can never set eye, or lay hand upon them. Moreover in things for example which please the palate, it is t●e savour only, which giveth contentment: if there be any thing else in them, it is in a manner lost, and consequently we never thoroughly enjoy any thing. For in other things, the smell only is for use, in others the colour; and so if we pass through all, we shall find that we enjoy the least parcel of them, which certainly is not to be bought at so dear a rate.  
11. Finally, 
The goods of this worldful of trouble.  to the end we may the better understand the nature of all these earthly things, and enter into a deeper contempt, and hatred of them, we shall do well to consider, that the small uncertain good, which by the gift of God, is in them, is alwaise beset with so many troubles, and mingled with so many evils, that are far greater than the good which they present us with; that the pleasure, which a man takes in them, can never be full and perfect, but is allwaise necessarily clipped, and abated in many things: We might prove this by many occurrences, which happen daily in the life of man before our eyes, but I will content myself, with one passage out of an epistle of S. Berna●d to Sophia a noble lady, 
S. Bernard epist. ad Sophiam.  of the deceitful glory of this world, where having first discoursed of the shortness of it, he saith further of the very continuance which it hath, in this manner: The very permanency of it, such as it is, hath it not more trouble then pleasure? while you lay claim to your own; while you stand defending of it; when you envy, when you are jealous; when you are continually hunting after something which you have not, and the desire of having, is never quenched by that which you have gotten; what rest do you find in your glory? If there be any; yet the pleasure soon passeth, never to return; the trouble remaineth, and will never leave you.  
12. But nothing doth more plainly discover the natural condition and qualities of every Creature, 
The greatness of God best shows the baseness of Creatures.  and show us more evidently how base imperfect all of them are, then if we compare them with their Creator. For as a poor country fellow● borne and bred in some out village will ever think his cottage, and his clouts, something, till he come into a City, and there behold the state and magnificence of the Nobility in their buildings, and retinue, and all other things: so as long as a man rests in these inferior things, he shall never arrive to the perfect knowledge of them. But if we desire to see thoroughly into them, we must raise ourselves to the consideration of the greatness and majesty, and infinity of God. For if the whole earth, as I insinuated before, be but a point in comparison of the heavens, and the heavens themselves, if they were as many more, and more vast than they are, were yet far less than a point, in respect of God, what is the earth in comparison with God? And if the whole earth be nothing, compared with God, what is a small parcel of the earth, or a handful of money, or any thing else that can be named?  

Creatures in comparison of God are not.  13. Wherein we may consider moreover the existence of every thing, and the manner or measure of their being in this world; For doubtless they have so poor and so weak a consistence, that they are ever nearer not being, then being; specially if we set the being of God, and the ever permanent existence of his Divine essence in comparison with them. In regard of which excessive distance, job saith of God, 
job. 14 4. S Greg. 16. mor. 18.  He only is. Which S. Gregory expoundeth in these words. Are there not Angels and men, heaven and earth, sea, and land, the air and all flying fowl, four footed beasts, and such as creep upon the earth? All these things are; but principally they are not, because they subsist not of themselves: and unless the hand of God, that governeth them, do maintain them, they cannot be. 
Exod. 3 14.  Wherefore in all things he is only to be regarded, who is principally; and he that said to Moses, I am, who am: so thou shalt say to the Children of Israel, He that 〈◊〉, hath sent me unto you. All which put together, will easily persuade a man of reason and judgement, that not only one field, or one house, or any private man's possessions (which are often but small in every body's eye) are not much to be valued, or rather to be accounted in a manner nothing; but that the whole world, with all that is in it, or if it were possible that there were worlds without number in one man's possession, are all of them nothing, and as such to be contemned.   

WHEREIN TRUE HONOUR AND nobility doth consist. CHAP. II.  
THIS ground supposed, it will be easy to understand, wherein true Nobility doth consist, and what maketh a man truly honourable. Commonly men think it is wealth or preferment, or greatness of descent which makes them honourable, 
S Grego●●● mo●●●  because, as S. Gregory teacheth, people shut their eyes to internal and invincible things, and feed themselves only with things visible. And therefore they respect a man not for that which he is, but for that which is about him.  

H● things are to be valued.  2. This error may be easily laid open, and confuted if we do but consider that we value all other things by that which is in them: Who esteem of a house, as it is most fit for habitation; of an ox, or a horse, as they are most serviceable, either for the plough, or for the race, or saddle; and so in smaller things, we commend a sword, or a knife if they be for the use, for which they were made. What folly is it then, to honour man only for things which are, without him, and far inferior to himself, and less deserving honour? For wealth, apparel, a good house and such like, are not only outward but inferior to man, and consequently far from adding any honour, or ornament unto him. And in fine, both the good which is in them, is small, and of mean value, and not for a man to glory in, seeing himself is greater and more noble. And secondly, be it what it will, it is wide of him that possesseth it. For as it were a ridiculous thing for me for example, to brag of your learning, or you of mine; just so it falleth out with them, that brag of their gold, and silver, and possessions. For that which is good or glorious in these things, belongs to the gracing of the thing itself, & not of man. For that which S. Bern. saith truly of one kind, 
S. Bernard epist. 11 ●.  may be applied to al. Esteem it an unworthy thing, to borrow beauty of mousefurre, or of the labours of worms. The true ornament of every thing is that which is in it of itself, nothing else."  
3. Wherefore the qualities of the mind, 
Wherein nobility consists.  only are the proper ornament of mankind, and only able to give a man true honour, and worth. These are his own, & stick by him, and are great indeed, and deserve accordingly, to be highly esteemed of every body. 
S Ambrose lib de Noë 4.  Which S. Ambr gives us to understand in the example of Noë, in the book which he wrote in praise of him: pondering how, in the holy Scripture he is commended, not for Nobility of descent, but for justice & perfection. The descent of a good man, saith he, is the progeny of virtue? For as men descend from men, so the lineage of souls is virtue. S. Hierom saith as much in other words. 
S Hierom. ep●st 14.  Our Religion hath not respect to persons, nor standeth upon the natures of men; but considereth every one's mind. It judgeth a man to be of noble, or servile condition by his manners: Not to be a slave to time, is the only liberty with God, & the greatest Nobility, is to be conspicuous in virtue. For otherwise a man doth but in vain glory of the nobility of his descent, seeing all that are redeemed with the same blood of Christ, are of God equally prized and honoured. It maketh no matter, in what state a man is borne, seeing all are equally regenerated in Christ.  
4. This was the sense and opinion of holy Fathers, as we find by what they have left written; and a Christian that hath good grounds whereby to discern what is truth and what is falsehood, what is vain, and what is solid and substantial, can think no other. The answer which S. Agatha virgin and martyr made to judge Quintian was pertinent in this kind. For he casting it in her teeth, as a disgrace, that being horn as she was of noble parentage, she was not ashamed to lead the base and servile life of a Christian? She replied, that she esteemed it the greatest freedom and honour that could be to be the handmaid of Christ. And certainly, as I said, it behooveth all men to be of the same mind, Christians especially.  
5. That we find the like delivered by heathen writers, is much more to be admired: And yet Plato in his dialogues of a common weal discourseth after this manner. 
Plato dial. 5. dereg.  Next after God we must honour our own mind: but it is no true honour, if puffed up with a foolish opinion of ourselves, we commend our selves, or let our mind do whatsoever it hath a fancy to; much less if we give ourselves over to pleasure. For this were rather to affront it, and fill it full of mischief and repentance. Neither doth he honour his mind, that esteemeth this life to be any great good thing, because he also doth disgrace and defile it. Nor he, that preferreth corporal beauty before virtue, or heapeth rich●● unjustly. All these do lavish that which in the mind is most beautiful, and most honourable, for a small and idle gain: because all the goods of the earth, or under earth, cannot equal virtue only. And consequently the only true honour is to follow that, which is upright and honest.  

Arist 〈…〉  6. Aristotle doth not only deliver the self same more exprestly, but addeth the reason, why most men are mistaken in their judgement, touching this point. He saith, that honour is only due to virtue, as a reward thereof, and a reward nothing answerable to it, but far short of it. Because no honour is great enough for perfect virtue. Also that every thing that is excellent in goodness, deserveth honour; and because commonly people take nothing to be good, but that which is outward, as nobility of descent, riches, command, and the like; they honour them more, as men excellent above others, in whom they find these things. But in truth an honest man only, is he that is to be honoured, and they that have these other things without virtue, deserve no honour; though the practice be otherwise in such as put themselves forward in the world, and think because it outward appearance they are great, that therefore they are truly to be preferred before others.  

T●●ee difference of natures.  7. And besides the authority of Aristotle and others, there is an other reason which is very plain and evident. For as we see God hath created three differences of natures in this world; on consisting of spirit, and understanding only, as the Angels. One wholly corporal, as beasts. One of a middle composition betwixt them both, or rather containing them both, which is man: who hath flesh as beasts; and spirit, and understanding as the Angels. And consequently man performeth the functions of both natures, understanding things, considering their beginning and causes, remembering that which is past, forthinking that which is to come, as the Angels do; and eating, drinking, sleeping, grieving, breeding, growing, increasing, dying as beasts, so that placed as it were in the middle betwixt them both, that way which in the course of his life and behaviour he bendeth himself, to that nature, he doth become most like. If he take the path of sense and sensual or carnal pleasure, he becometh a very beast, which is that which the Prophet saith. 
Ps. 48. 1●.  Man when he was in honour did not understand, he is compared to the foolish beasts, and made like unto them. If he govern himself by reason, and suppressing desires of the flesh, follow that which is spiritual, be becomes not only like the Angels, but like to God, and increaseth more and more the true resemblance of him in himself, 
Ps 81 6. Rom. 8.  according to the testimony of the same Prophet. I said you are Gods. Wherefore there is as much difference betwixt one that liveth according to the flesh, as the Apostle speaketh, and one that livech according to the spirit, I do not say, as there is betwixt a Porter and a King (for though this distance be great, it is still within compass of the same nature) but as there is betwixt a beast and an Angel. Nothing being more contemptible than the one, nothing under God more honourable than the other.  
8. Wherefore we must needs conclude, that true worth, true Honour, true Nobility, consisteth in virtue only; Which whosoever doth not understand, hath not eyes to be hold the glory of virtue. 
S. 〈…〉 1.  And that which S. Gregory saith proveth true in such a man. That carnal people though for humane wisdom they seem to be reasonable creatures, want the light of live reason; because they see only with the eyes, which the serpent opened. For saith he, if they saw the spiritual glory of virtue, doubtless they would covet to have it within them, as well as other qualities.   

OF THE DIGNITY OF Religious Poverty. CHAP. III.  
EVERY virtue that a man doth throughly practice, doth beget him in the eyes and opinion of other men great admiration, and people are in a manner forced to love him, and respect him for it. And the rarer, and more excellent the virtues are, and more hard to compass, 
Virtue naturally breedeth love and admiration.  they work this effect of love and admiration more forcibly: because as their beauty and splendour is greater, so they draw people's thoughts the more to admire them. In which number doubtless the virtues proper to a Religious state, aught to be ranked, as truly innobling those that possess them. Wherefore we will say something of every one of them in particular. And first of Poverty; which as Saint Ambrose telleth us: 
S. Ambr. l. 5. in Luc.  Is the foremost in degree, and as it were the Mother of other virtues.  
2. Of the benefit, and commodity of Poverty we have discoursed sufficiently in the precedent book; here we are to speak as I said, of the dignity of it. Which we shall come the easier to understand, if we first suppose, that we talk not here of Poverty, which is forced upon a man by necessity, or by some sudden or violent accident▪ for such Poverty is base and sordid, and odious among men, and not without reason; because seeing it is not voluntary, it deserves no commendation; and being subject to many inconveniences from abroad, it hath no inward comfort at home to solace it: it quencheth not the desire of having, but inflameth it; it is so far from bringing quiet and contentment with it, that it rather breedeth nothing but care, and anxiety and anguish of mind.  
3. Euangelical Povertie, 
The excellence of Religious Poverty. Philip. 3.9.  which is that, which Religious people profess, is of a far other strain; for it is voluntary, willingly undertaken, willingly undergone and borne: Though it might have riches, and whole mountains of gold, it esteemeth all as dung with the Apostle, for the love of God, and hope of heavenly treasure; and setting all things at naught, is seated above all, and after a strange manner, possesseth all, by treading all under foot. They that profess it, cast away, not only that which is superfluous, to bring themselves to the state, 
Pro●. 30. ●●  of which the wiseman speaketh; Give me neither riches nor Poverty, but grant me only things needful for my sustenance: but they deprive themselves of necessaries, and put themselves into a perfect kind of nakedness of all things. They part not with few things only, or with many (which yet were very commendable, and much to be admired) but they forsake all, they bereave themselves of every kind of thing, and that for ever.  
4. A man would think, this were enough and that no more could be added, because he that saith all, excludeth nothing; and yet in Religious Poverty, there is something, which is yet more to be admired, viz. that not only they have nothing, but have put upon themselues upon such terms, as absolutely they can have nothing, & have cut off from themselves, both all dominion, and the very power of ever returning to have any dominion over any thing. Divines are wont to declare this point by a familiar example of a labouring beast, which expresseth it very naturally. For as a horse for example, useth the stable and hay, and litter, and cloths, and such like, and cannot be said to possess any of them; because he hath not understanding & reason, which is the ground of dominion, but is himself possessed by man. So Religious people use the clothes, and the meat, and other necessaries which be in the house, but they use them not as their own: they have but the bare use of them, and cannot say they are masters of any thing; because by the vow of Poverty, which they make, they are altogether as uncapable of true and lawful Dominion over any thing, 
C●ss. lib. 4. c. 15.  as the horse I spoke of. And that which Cassi●s commended in the Monks of his time, is common to all: They durst not say any thing was theirs, and it was a great fault to hear a Monk say, my book, my paper, my garment. What more perfect Poverty can there be? or to what higher strain can it rise?  

Voluntary poverty is rare.  5. The difficulty which doth accompany it, doth not a little commend the Excellency, and dignity of it. The difficulty I say, which both the nature of the thing itself, doth at the very first sight offer to our eyes, and which may be gathered moreover, by the scarcity of this kind of pearl, for so I may justly term it. Blessed is the man saith Ecclesiasticus, who is sound without spot, and hath not gone after gold, nor hoped in treasure of money: who is he, and we will praise him! for he hath done wonders in his life. He asketh who is he? as if none were to be found; and giveth this high commendation to a man, that desireth not wealth, nor laboureth for increase of his riches, and is not continually hoarding: but Religious people go higher; for they cast away that which they have, and bring themselves to the perfect nakedness, which I spoke of, and consequently that which they do in their life, is a far greater wonder.  

Incitements of Covetousness in the world.  6. But let us consider a little how many ways the desire of having is subject to be inflamed in this world: for when we shall find that Euangelical Poverty doth bar all those ways, and subdue so many fie●y Enemies, we shall see more pla●nely the Excellency of it. First therefore there is a kind of poise or inclination, and desire to have many things naturally engrafted in us; 
S. Aug. 2. Con●●ss. c. 6.  which Saint Augustin deriveth from the likeness which we have with God, so deeply imprinted in us, that eue● when we sin, we retain a resemblance of him: for as God hath all things, so man desireth to resemble him, by having as many as he can. The beauty of the things of this world much whetteth our desire of them; as the shining colour of gold, the sparkling of gems and precious stones, the glory of gay and costly apparel, the state of large buildings, and the like. Besides the many commodities which riches bring with them, relieving us in all, or in most of the miseries of this life, and yielding plentiful means of pleasure, and pastimes, dainty face▪ pleasant guard us, abundance of furniture, and whatsoever is choice and sumptuous. Poverty on the other side bereaves us of all thi●, which nature cannot choose but feel, & it sinks the deeper, because it is to last all our life time; and puts us in a manner, in fear of our lives; because it takes away the helps, by which life is maintained. So that naturally we hate and shun Poverty, almost as much as we tender our own life, the love whereof, commandeth all other loves, as every body feeleth in himself.  
7. If we add the point of honour, which men are so naturally taken with, what is more in reputation than riches? what more disgraceful than Poverty. This is the general persuasion of all men, ever from their Cildhood; with this we grow, and in this the vogue and fashion of the times doth settle us, & the familiar discourses of every body at home and abroad, tend to nothing else but to persuade us that there is not a happier thing in this world, then to have large possessions, great revenues, gold and silver at will, and plenty of all kind of wealth. How noble a spirit therefore, 
It is a sign of a noble hart to contemn riches. Ni●u● lib. ad magna.  and how resolute a mind, must in needs be that spurneth and treadeth under foot at once, all that which nature so much desireth, and is taken with: and contrariwise doth so lovingly embrace that which men by nature do so much abhor? To which purpose Blessed Nilus as ancient Father, hath a divine saying, commending the excellency both of Poverty and Chastity, in regard, as he speaketh: beauty and riches are much alike desireful, and it must be a resolute mind that is not taken, with either of them. But they that have undertaken to possess nothing are worthily much more to be admitted, because the esteem in which riches are held, could take no hold of them, nor bring them to entangle their mind in such idle cares. For though there be many things in this world pleasing to sense, which easily entice a man unto them, yet riches are much more forcible in this kind, because they are so useful both for attaining of honour and pleasure; and because long custom hath taught fools to account them happy that are rich, in regard of the glory and pleasure they live in. They therefore are worthily to be esteemed rare men, that striving with themselves, have overcome the thoughts of their mind, moving them to yield to the opinion, which the vulgar hath of riches, as if they were truly good, and which in the judgement of all men are thought to be of high esteem. These are the very words of Nilus.  
7. It cannot therefore be denied, but that to be voluntarily poor, is a token of a noble spirit and of a high mind, soaring above whatsoever is in the world, and contemning it as base and abject. 
To hunt after riches is an unworthy thing. Saint john Chrysost. Homil. ult. in Ma●●h.  And yet it is the more to be admired and valued, in regard it freeth us from all that base unworthiness, which they are necessarily subject unto, who seek after worldly wealth: S. john Chrysostome in his last homily upon Saint Matthew, doth lay it before our eyes in this excellent comparison: A rich man must needs want many things, & be a slave & basely stand in awe, & in suspicion, & in fear of those that have their eyes upon him, & of their tongues that speak their pleasure, and of the very desires of others, that are Covetous. But poverty not so; For this is a princely palace, not subject to thieves, but strongly guarded, 
Id. Hom. 47 in Matth.  a quiet haven; an Academy and school of wisdom. And elsewhere more copiously he speaketh thus. If thou look into the very soul of a man that loves money, thou wilt find it all bore full of holes with care, as a garment that is eaten up by ten thousand moths; rotten with sin, and full of iron molles. In the soul of him that is voluntarily poor, it is far otherwise; it rather glittereth like gold, shineth as precious stones, and is as beautiful as a Rose. There is neither moth, nor thief, nor worldly care to be seen; but in his conversation he is he is not bound to attend upon any earthly prince, but waiteth upon God. He serveth not in the rank of men, but of Angels: earth is not his treasure, but heaven: the wants no attendance, but rather hath servants, and possessions, and thoughts that are lords of all things. What is more noble than such a poor man? But he hath neither horses nor coach; what need hath he of them, that must walk upon the clouds and be with Christ?  

Voluntary Poverty possesseth all things. 2. Cor. 6.10.  8. A great Commendation certainly of Poverty, proceeding from so great a Saint; but that which S. Paul compriseth in one only word is yet far greater. Having nothing and possessing all things. Whose words if we credit (and who i● there that will not give credit to the Apostle, unless he be extreme ungodly?) Nothing can be more magnificent than poverty, as claiming possession of the whole wo●l●, for what mass of wealth, what extent of Kingdoms can be matched with it? All Kingdoms though they be large, are confined within certain limits; but the Kingdom of poverty hath no bounds; by only having nothing, it hath all things and is in possession of all, for the whole business consisteth in the mind: the mind cannot be possessed of a thing, 
All is in the mind.  unless it be master of it; it cannot not be master unless it be above it; the more it is above a thing, the more master it is, & d●th the more truly possess it. Now they that covet to be rich, cannot but love the things, without which they make account they cannot live: of love comes care & solicitude, and consequently the man is a slave unto them. chose the mind that hath shaken off these things, is not only above them, but doth scorn them. 
Clima●us grad. 18.  Whereupon Clima●us doth ground that grave and lofty saying of his: that a Poor Monk is Lord of the world▪ and he that hath cast his care upon God, by that confidence, doth possess all nations, as his vassals. And addeth; that a poor servant of God, loves nothing disorderly: for he maketh account of that which he hath, or may have as if it were nothing; and if it b●e his fortune to lose it, he esteemeth it as dung. To which purpose also S. Bernard applieth excellently well, as he doth always that which was spoken of the only begotten (to use his own word) to all his brethren; 
S Bernard. S. 2. in Cant.  If I be exalted from the earth, I w●ll draw all things to myself. For all things, 
Io. 12.32.  saith he, are not only added but made subject unto them, if naked of all earthly things, they be exalted far above them. Let not therefore the rich men of this world imagine, that the Brethren of Christ possess only heavenly things, because they hear him say, blessed are the poor of spirit, for theirs is the Kingdom of heaven. 
Matth. 5.  Let them not think that they possess heavenly things only, because they hear no other named in the promise. They possess earthly things also, 
2. Cor. 6.  As having nothing and possessing all things, & are the more masters over them, the less they covet them. Finally to a faithful man the whole world is his wealth; absolutely all the world, because all things, adverse and prosperous, are equally subject unto him, and turn to his good. A Covetous man hungers after earthly things, as a beggar; the faithful contemns them, as Lord. He possessing them, goeth a begging; the other contemning them, is in possession of them. This is S. Bernard● true and elegant discourse.  

God is the 〈◊〉  9 Another thing wherein this kind of poverty may justly glory, is that whereas no body is so well provided of earthly wealth, but that sometimes he wants, o● at least may come to want something which he would have. He that is voluntarily poor, cannot possibly want any thing that is needful for him, in regard that God through his divine providence, hath undertaken to provide for him, & to maintain him. 
Ps. ●●. 11.  The Royal Prophet telleth us as much. The rich, saith he, have been in want & hungered, but they that seek after our Lord shall not fail of any good. Whereupon S. Chrysost. in one of his homilies, 
S. john Chrysost. hom. 57 ad pop..  doth reckon this also, among the chiefest commodities of a Religious life, that God feeding us, as he speaketh, we should not need to take thought for any thing. For as if a king promise thee thy diet, out of his provision and store, thou dost fix upon it; much more doth it befit thee to lay aside all care and solicitude, being God doth provide for thee, and all things flow unto thee from him, as water doth from a fountain. For if he feed all flesh, much more those who have consecrated themselves unto him. Which observation of S. john Ch●●sostome hath not only relation to the profit, and quiet of mind, arising of poverty, but to the worth and glory of it, whereof we speak. For what greater glory can there be, then to have such a steward (as I may say) of our household, 
job. 9.13.  and him to make our provisions for us, who is Lord of Angels, in the heavenly court, and under whom they stoop that bear the world.  
1●. But nothing doth so much grace the state of Euangelical poverty, 
The example of our Saviour who was poor.  as the example of the Son of God, Wh● (as the Apostle speaketh) when he was rich, was made poor for v●: & not only poor, but a very beggar. For that which is in the Psalm, is more truly our Saviour's speech than david's: I am a beggar and poor. He chose a Mother that was poor, 
2. Cor. 8.9.  and he that was thought to be his Father, was a silly Carpenter: 
Ps. 39.18.  he would not be borne in any man's dwelling house, but in a stable, that was none of his own: His life was according; for as himself is witness. The foxes ha●e their dens and the birds of the air their nests, 
Matt. 8.10.  but the son of man had not where to say his head. Finally he in whose hand, are all the bounds of the earth, was not ashamed, to maintain himself, and his, upon others Charity. What can we desire more? For neither would the word and wisdom of God, that is, God himself, have chosen such a manner of life, but that he knew, it was both noble and beseeming God: and though it had been never so mean, and abject before, his only example is sufficient to place it in the highest rank of honour, and nobility.  
11. Following the example of our Saviour, 
The Apostles were poor.  the Apostles were also poor. For what other thing was it fitting they should learn in his school, but to imitate him? and how should they choose, but be willing to imitate him, seeing he was their master, they his scholars; he their Lord, they his servants? Wherefore the chief of them, 
Act 3.6.  professing this golden poverty, said: gold and silver I have none. 
2 Cor. 11.27.  Another speaketh thus of himself: In hunger and thirst, in cold and nakedness. And of the rest of the Apostles: 
1. Cor. 4 11.  even to this hour, we hunger and thirst and are naked. And all of them had this rule given them: 
Matt. 10.9.  Possess not gold no● silver, nor too coats. Holy poverty therefore being raised to such honour and dignity by the example of Christ, and his Blessed M●ther, the Queen of heaven, and of his Apostles, all Religious people have not only embraced it, as always exceeding profitable, but accordingly reverenced it, as a thing divine. Of which number and persuasion, was that Isaac, of whom S. Gregory relateth in his dialogues: 
S. Gregor. 3. dial 14.  that when many large possessions where presented him, to the use of his monastery, he could never be drawn to admit of them, because (as he expressed) that he was as much afraid, to lose the assurance of his poverty, as the Covetous man is careful, to conserve his fading riches.  
12. The like we read in S. Antonine and others, of S. Clare, 
S. Clare.  Mother of many virgins: 
S. Anton 3. Ps. Hist c. 4.  that she loved all virtues, but was chiefly enamoured with poverty, and was wont to say to her sisters, that her Convent or company, should remain firm and impregnable, so long as it was deffended with the walls of Poverty. And when she requested Pope Innocent the fourth, to grant her the perpetual privilege (as she called it) of Poverty, the Pope being much taken with that new kind of form of privilege, (t●ere never having been such a request as he said, made before to that holy Sea) he did not only willingly grant unto it but with a great deal of contentment to his mind, he writ the whole grant with his own hand.  
13. And it was no wonder that she was so great a servant of this virtue, having been bred up in Saint Francis his school; 
S. Francis.  who did not only much please himself in the commodities of poverty, but did highly honour and reverence it as a jewel of great price, and a state whereunto no dignity in the world could be compared. Saint Bonaventure writeth in his life, 
S. B●nav●. in the life o● S F●ancis.  that whensoever he had occasion to speak of that virtue, he was wont with reverence, to style it his Mother, his Spouse his Lady, and Queen; in regard that by the king of kings, and by his blessed M●ther, the virgin Marie, it had been so highly prized and practised. If by chance he had espied a beggar in the streets, that seemed more poor than he, his heart began presently by to burn within him, with holy envy against that man, as if he had been outstripped in a matter of great consequence. And again if he were invited to a gentleman's table, as oftentimes he was; in the way as he went, he always begged of the neighbours, from door to door some crusts of bread, which when he sat down, at board, he took most delight to feed on. And once the Cardinal of Ostia (he that was afterwards Pope, and took the name of Honorius) did friendly complain of him for it, telling him that being invited to his table, he did disgrace his house with that practice. 
A notable saying of S. Francis.  Nay, rather said the Saint I do honour your house the more with it: because in doing it, I do honour a greater Lord than you, and I am fully resolved, never to forgo this princely dignity, which my Lord jesus did assume, when he was made poor for us; to enjoy counterfeit riches for so short a time, as they are lent us for our use.  
14. All other Saints also were doubtless of the same opinion; for they could never have been saints, but by contemning the world, nor contemn the world, but that this was their judgement and opinion of it. Let us hear what saint Gregory Nazianzen speaketh to this purpose, 
S Gr●gor 〈…〉  and how he glorieth in this virtue. But they will upbraid me, saith he, with the nakedness, and poverty which I profess. But these are my riches. In this I do not only glory, but I am proud of it. For when my enemy's object this against me, me thinks they object that I tread his footsteps, who when he was rich, was made poor for our sakes. And would to God it were lawful for me, to cast off even these rags, which you see me wear, that naked, I might escaspe from the briers of this world, which withhold and draw back those, that are running towards God.  

〈…〉 honoured voluntary Poverty.  15. But what wonder is it, that in the light of the Gospel, Poverty should shine so gloriously; seeing in the darkness of infidelity, it was so highly prized: For though that kind of Poverty were ever odious, and contemptible, which came by birth or necessity; yet voluntary poverty, and they that did practise it, were always in great veneration among all nations. Aristides a man much adored in Athens, lived in great poverty, was ever clad in a ragged coat, and did suffer at home much cold and hunger. Whereupon when Callias a near kinsman of his, and a moneyed man, was called in question, and cited to the bar, among other things his adversary's laid to his charge, that he relieved not the worthy Aristides. 
Aristides.  Callias perceiving by the muttering of the judges, 
Plutarch 〈…〉  that they were offended at it, went to Aristides, beseeching him to depose in judgement, with how much, and how often he had offered to furnish him, and how he had still refused all, saying, that he gloried more in his poverty, than Callias in all his wealth. For saith he, there be enough to be found, that spend their great stocks in idle uses: sew that do stoutly bear the grievances of poverty; and that poverty is no disgrace, but in them that are poor against their wills. Which when Aristides had delivered with great applause before the judges, there was no man upon the bench, that did not much more envy Aristides his rare poverty, the Callias his wealth.  
16. Diogenes his penurious manner of living, 
Diogenes.  is also much renowned and admired; Kings and Princes often gracing his Tub with their presence. And many other Philosophers are named in this kind. 
Cra●is. S Gregor. Nazian. ora 30.  Particularly Saint Gregory Nazianzen relateth of Crate●, that when he had forsaken his possessions, being proud of it, and desirous that the people should know, what a great fact he had done, got up upon a high stall, and cried out aloud, Crates hath this day set Crates free. Which course he would not have taken, but that himself was persuaded that to be voluntarily poor was a glorious thing, and knew that generally the people thought so. 
S. john Choicest l 2. adu●rsus v●●uperatoris vit. 〈◊〉.  S. Chrysostome in his second book against the dispraisers of Monastical life, doth handle this subject at large, and very eloquently; and directing his speech wholly to the gentils, and Infidels, draws all his proofs from the grounds of natural reason. There he compares Plato, with Dionysiu● the Tyrant; Socrates with Archelaus; Diogenes with Alexander the great: and showeth that the one are far more renowned for their poverty, than the other for their large dominions. And relateth how Epaminondas the Thebean being called to council, 
Epam●nondas.  and excusing himself, that he could not come, because he had that day put his coat to wahing, and had never another to put on, was more renowned and admired, than all the Princes that came to the meeting. Whereupon Saint john Chrysostome doth conclude, that the height of Poverty, doth not only appear by the light of the Gospel, but by force of natural reason.  
17. The truth of all which things, 
Voluntary poverty, not poverty.  being so clear and apparent, we must needs acknowledge also that this Poverty cannot properly be called Poverty, but rather a wealthy state, abounding in far truer, and greater riches, than whatsoever, princely treasures, & magazines. For to speak the truth of men, that are esteemed wealthy in the world, their coffers are rich, but not themselves: Their minds are void and empty, and as poor as I●h, always craving, as if they had little or nothing to live on. And so the holy ghost in the proverbs, disciphereth them both unto us, 
Prou ●3. 7.  both the Euangelical poor, and the falsely styled rich, in these words. 
S. Greg. hom. ●5. in Euang.  There is a man that is rich, and hath nothing, and there is a man that is poor, amidst many riches. Wherefore S. Gregory doth rightly observe that our Saviour in the gospel doth not call these earthly riches, absolutely riches, but deceitful riches. For saith he, they are deceitful, because they cannot long abide with us. 
S. Ambrose l. 3. epist. 1.  They are deceitful, in regard they fill not the emptiness of our mind. The only true riches are they which make us rich in virtue S. Ambrose also, handling this matter with his wont eloquence and copiousness, & maintaining that wisdom only, doth make a wise man rich, hath these words. He is truly rich that in the eye of God is held so: in whose sight the whole earth is little, the compass of the whole world is narrow: now God doth account him only rich, who is rich in eternity, and hoardeth not wealth but virtue. Do you not think that he is rich, who hath peace, and tranquillity, and quiet of mind; so far that he desireth nothing, he is not waved up and down by the storms of cupidity, 
Phil. 4.7.  he is not weary of old things, nor seeketh new; nor in the height of riches, is kept always poor, by continual craving This is a peace which is truly rich, and doth surpass all understanding. Great therefore is the dignity and splendour of Religious Poverty; 
Two kind● Euangelilical Poverty.  and such as all princes and wealthy men of this world may justly envy at, if they understood it right. I will conclude this chapter if first I declare briefly that there be 2. kinds of Religious Poverty: (for it is a matter of consequence to understand it) and both of them are very worthy in themselves, and eminent in the way of Euangelical perfection. One kind of poverty retaineth absolutely nothing at all, neither in private, nor in common: Which is the profession, which first of all S. Francis undertook, and after him by his example, S. Dominick and many others. The other kind of poverty retaineth possession, of certain necessary revenues in common only, nothing in private: which is that, which all the ancient Fathers professed: S. Benedict, Saint Bernard, S. Bruno and S. Basil, the most ancient of all the rest: for their Monasteries were not only endowed, with yearly rents, but with such ample possessions, as the remainder of them doth testify their greatness to this day. 
Tith●mius li. 1. de virid ill. c. 1.  Insomuch that Tri●hemius is bold to say of his order, that if it were again in possession of all that it formerly had, without doubt S. Benedict, as he speaketh, would have the third part of Christendom in his ●ands. Which can not seem strange, to whosoever shall call to mind, the devotion of those times, the mother of liberality towards God and his servants. Kings and princes did take a glory in building great Monasteries, in the lands belonging to their crown and patrimony, and in bestowing upon them, very large possessions. And if any wealthy persons did enter into any of those religious orders (as there were very many that did) they carried their wealth in with them, and no body said nay, no body repined, or sued them upon it, but did rather willingly yield them all favour, and furtherance.  
18. So we read in the life of Placidus, that it was S. Benedict his fashion, not to suffer the goods of his monks; to be otherwise employed, but to the maintenance of store of God's servants. But to say nothing of many others, the only possessions of this Placidus were so large, that he alone was Master of great part of Sicily, besides other things which he had: which is testified to this day by the Register of them yet extant, which is able to amaze the reader with the only length thereof. And S. Bernard doth speak of it, 
S. Bernard.  in one of his Epistles, as of a wondrous thing. To this day, saith he, the land is showed, which is recorded to have been given with him, and for him. That S. Augustin also did the like, 
S. August Ep. 109. Auth●n●. col. 1. ●o●st. 3.5. Illud & col. 9 Const. 15.5. si qua.  may be proved by his own testimony, in an Epistle of his, to certain Nuns; where he adviseth them to put that in common, to the Monastery, which they enjoyed in private, in the world. From whence the constitution of justinian the Emperor sprung, ordering that the goods of them, that became Monks, should, ipso facto belong to the Monasteries, where themselves were Religious. By all which, it is evident that this kind of Poverty so much practised by the ancient Fathers, mirrors of sanctity and wisdom (no other kind of Povertie being then in use) is not only void of all imperfection, but was esteemed by them most perfect, and most convenient to be practised.  
19 S. Thomas, 
S. Tho. 1. con● g●n●. 135. & 21. q. 188. 〈◊〉. 7.  the chief of Schoole-divines, doth give us to understand no less; for propounding the question in these terms: Whether, to have anything in common, doth diminish the perfection of a Religion? answereth directly, that it doth not diminish it: but rather, that it may in some cases be better, and more convenient so to do. And all other Divines agree in the same. For all is, as I have said, not to have any thing in private to a man's self, though in common there be something to be divided, 
Act 4.  according to the form prescribed by the Apostles, to every one as he hath need. This is the institution, so much commended by S. Hierome in the Monks of his time, 
S. Hierome. Ep. 22.  in these words: No man can say, I want a coat, or a frock, or a mattress. He that governs them, doth so distribute all things, that no man shall need to ask. Every one hath what is fitting for him. If any one of them begin to be i'll, he is removed into a larger room, and cherished by the service of so many elder Monks, that he shall not have evasion, to long for the delicacies that be in Cities, nor want the careful affection of a mother.   

OF THE EXCELLENCY of Religious Chastity. CHAP. FOUR  
POVERTY (of which I have discoursed at large in the precedent Chapter) is exceedingly graced, by the profession of Religious Chastity; And Chastity is so much the more to be admired, by how much our body is dearer unto us than our worldly wealth, and in itself more noble. Holy Scripture commendeth Chastity with a kind of admiration: 
Sap. 4●.  O how beautiful is a chaste generation with clarity? It calleth them, that lead a chaste life, beautiful, and glorious, because there is a kind of grateful comeliness belonging particularly to that state, elevated above the strain of Nature, and in a manner Divine.  
2. To the end we may discover it the better, 
S. Basil. de vera virginitato.  it will not be amiss, to consider, how our Nature was ordered from the beginning, whereof S. Basil hath a learned discourse in his book of true Virginity, and layeth this for his first ground, that God when he purposed to furnish the earth, with living creatures; would not himself create them all immediately of nothing, 
The natural inclination which man hath ●o generation.  but making first a few of every kind, ordered that the rest should descend of them, and be taken of them, as out of a kind of nursery or seedplot. And least in so necessary a work his creatures should be slack, whereas he had distinguished them into two sexes, he gave either sex a strong inclination to come together, to the end to breed of one another; which inclination is full as strong in men, as in beasts; and for as much as concerneth generation, there is little difference betwixt them, but that to man there is a further ground to enforce it: For the woman being taken out of the side of the man, God ordained she should be subject and obedient to man, as part to the whole: and on the other side, that he should bear particular affection unto her, and desire her company, and as it were claim her as party of himself, with desire to be again joined with her, and make two in one, and one in two, and so be two in one flesh. And to the end the love betwixt them should be the greater, he made woman of a soft and tender mould and disposition, apt to allure man's affection by sight, speech, touching, & every motion; both to provoke man the more to the desire of generation, and provide for the woman's infirmity; for she not being able to defend herself without the help of man, God tempered both their natures so, that the woman's frailty might be supported by the strength of the man, and man, though by nature stronger, should be delivered as it were captive, into the woman's hands, by a secret violence, as a loadstone draws iron to it. This is Saint Basil his discourse of the nature of man, as it was first created by God, and ordered by his al-provident Counsel.  

The corruption by Original sin.  3. To which if we add the wound of Original sin, and the general informity and corruption of our whole nature by it, what shall we be able to say or think? For that which Saint Bernard writeth, is very true, that though all parts of our body, have tasted of the Addition of Leviathan, as he termeth it, that is, of the poison of Concupiscence, 
S Bernard s●r. 2. de Circum.  and the sting of intemperate lust, this part hath most of all been tainted with it, and rageth more violently, and is more perniciously malignant by reason of it: in so much, that it often bandeth in rebellion against all deliberation, and whatsoever purpose of our will: which the Saint thinks, was the cause why Circumcision (which was the remedy of original sin among the jews) was rather ordained in that part of the body, then in any other Wherefore seeing the malignancy of this disease, and our weakness also is so great, 
Chastity is above nature.  the assaults of the devil on that side, as upon the weakest part of our walls, so hot and fiery, so many difficulties and skirmishes arising otherwise; what extraordinary virtue, what solid constancy of mind must it needs be, which in all these things is both able to abide the brunt, and go away with victory? This strength, this ability doth not certainly proceed from any ground of nature, nor by our sole endeavour are we able to attain unto it, but it descendeth from above, as the Wiseman professeth when he saith: 
Sap 8 2.  I know that otherwise I could not be chaste, unless God did give it. And S. Basil in the book abovementioned doth acknowledge it saying: 
S Basil. suprà.  It is natural to marry, but to be chaste is a thing more excellent, above nature, above the law, no where commanded by God, neither in the old Testament, nor in the new; because God, would not subject the merit of so great a virtue, to the necessity of a command, but leave it to be a special token of a noble spirit, willingly of our own accord, not compelled by precept or injunction, to embrace that which soareth so high above nature.  
4. Climacus calleth this virtue of Chastity, 
Clima●u● grad. 15.  an odoriferous virtue, and saith excellently well, that it is supernatural, and a glorious kind of abnegation of nature, 
Chastity an edo●iferous and heavenly virtue.  whereby this our mortal & corruptible body draweth near the nature of the heavenly Spirits, which have no bodies. That he that liveth chaste, cannot attribute it, to any desert or endeavour of his own; because to overcome nature, is no easy business; but whensoever we have the upper hand of it, we must acknowledge that it cometh from a higher power, because nothing is overcome but by that, which is stronger & greater than it. Which if we ponder duly, we shall easily discover the dignity & excellency of this virtue of Continency, and how it transformeth our mind and body, into a near resemblance of the state of life, which the Blessed shall possess in heaven, after the general resurrection; when we shall again be invested, with that which was truly out body, & truly our flesh, 
1. Cor. 15.44.  but then incorruptible and spiritual, & free from the base and ignoble qualities which here hang upon us, which the Apostle calleth natural, the function thereof being the same with beasts, and particularly this power of generation, which alteration in this kind our Blessed Saviour expressed in two words: 
Matth. 22.30.  They shall neither marry, nor be married.  
5. Wherefore they that perform this now upon earth, & endeavour here to maintain their flesh holy and impolluted, live after a heavenly manner; as Saint Cyprian writing to certain Religious women telleth us in these words: 
S. C●prian de habi●a Virg.  That which we shall be hereafter, you have now begun to be. Now in this world you have attained the glory of the resurrection; you pass through the world, without thought of the world; and persevering chaste in virginity, are equal with the Angels of God. Which words of S. Cyprian concerning the equality of virgins, with the Angels, give us occasion to reflect upon a farther dignity of this virtue, to wit, that it teacheth us to live in mortal flesh, as if we were as Angels, not in flesh. For to be in flesh, is of itself no un worthy thing; but to do the commands of the flesh, and obey the lust thereof, that is unworthy. Wherefore they that live spiritually, and perform not the desires of the flesh, but constantly mortify the works thereof, they live as the blessed Spirits that have no flesh. 
S. And●ros●li de Virg.  Whereupon S. Ambrose discoursing of a single life, speaketh thus: It is not contained within the bounds of nature; who then is able to comprehend it? or who can express with words of nature that, which is above the strain of nature? It brought from heaven that, which it imitateth upon earth: neither without reason doth it seek in heaven a form of living, having found itself a spouse in heaven; surmounting the clouds, the air, the stars, the Angels, it found the Word of God in the bosom of his Father, and entertained it with open breast. And who would have let pass so great a Good, having once found it? Finally it is not my saying only, they that do not m●rry, nor are given in marriage, shall be like the Angels of God in heaven: Let no man therefore wonder, if they be compared to Angels, seeing they are coupled to the Lord of Angels, Cassian hath the like discourse in no less eloquent terms. To dwell in flesh, 
Cassian li. 〈…〉.  saith he, to be compassed round a bout with brickle flesh, and not to feel the motions of flesh, is as it were to go out of flesh, and pass the bounds of nature. And therefore it is impossible for a man to raise himself with his own wings, as I may say, to so lofty and so heavenly a reward, unless the grace of God, by the gift of Chastity, pull him out of th● earthly slough. For by no virtue are men of flesh so properly equalised with the spiritual Angels, by imitation of their conversation, as by the grace and merit of Chastity: by which, living as yet upon earth, they are (according to the Apostle) Denizens of heaven, possessing here now in mortal flesh, that which hereafter is promised, 
S. Gr●g. N●z an. H●m. in Matt 〈◊〉 jesus.  that the Saints shall have, when they have shaken off this fleshly corruption. Let us hear S. Gregory Naz●anzen also (so great a Divine) speaking to the same purpose. He saith thus: You see the excellency and sublimeness of this virtue is such, as can hardly be conceived or apprehended. For is it not a thing surpassing the frailty of flesh, that that which is borne of flesh, should not breed of flesh? Is it not evidently an Angelical kind of life, to be confined in flesh, and not to live according to flesh, but to crow over nature? Flesh blinds us to the world, reason raiseth us to God. Flesh holds us down, Reason lifts us, and in a manner gives us wings. Flesh imprisoneth us, but Love sets us free.  
5. Wherefore unless we will wilfully shut our eyes, and not give way to Reason, we must needs admire the great splendour of Chastity, which ranketh us, not with Kings and Princes (an honour so much hunted after by men) but with the celestical Powers and Principalities. 
S. Bernard ep 4●.  And yet S. Bernard steppeth a degree further, being bold to say, that he that liveth chaste, is to be commended above the Angels: And his reason is clear; What is more beautiful, saith he, than Chastity, which cleanseth him that is conceived by unclean generation, and maketh a familiar friend of an enemy, a man an Angle● A man that is chaste, dissereth somewhat from an Angel, but in happiness, not in virtue ●f the Angel's chastity be more happy, man's is more heroical. Chastity is the only virtue, which representeth v●to us the state of immortal glory, in this time and place of mortality, Chastity alone amidst the solemnities of marriage, challengeth as a glorious thing the life of that happy country, where they seal neither marry nor be married, giving us in earth a taste of that heavenly conversation. Chastity preserveth the frail vessel, which we bear about us, which of en is in hazard of breaking, and preserveth it, as the Apostle speaks, to sanctification; and serves us as a most odoriferous balsam, to keep our bodies incorrupted. It refraineth our senses, it bindeth our members from lose idleness, from corrupt desires, from the rotten pleasures of flesh, 
I●●l 1.17.  that it be not with us, as we read of some, that they were as rotten as beasts in their dung. Saint Chrysostome jumpeth with S. Bernard in the commendation of this virtue; 
S. 〈…〉 de vi●g c. 79.  and expresseth himself in these words: In what did Elias, Elizeus, john, true lovers of integrity, differ from the Angels? Truly in nothing, but that they were by nature mortal: as for the rest, if a man look narrowly into it, he shall find them no otherwise affected, than those blessed Spirits: and that their nature was of an inferior mould, turns rather to their greater commendation. For to the end, that earth-dwelling and mortal men should, by the strength of their endeavour, arrive to so great a virtue, with what fortitude must they be endued? 
S. Basil. l. de Virg.  What rare course of life must they necessarily hold? We may add S. Basil, who in the book above montioned of Virginity, discourseth after this manner: They that preserve themselves continent, are certainly Angels in corruptible flesh, and do excessively honour the mortal life which they lead. They are Angels of no mean rank, but most glorious, and most noble: they that are in heaven free from the encumbers of flesh, preserve their integrity, because both by nature and by their place, they are impregnable, seated near to the sovereign King of all, our God. But the others upon earth, strive many years with the pleasures and allurements of flesh, and by their continual endeavours overcoming the temptations of the Devil, with rare courage and constancy, live in the sight of their Creator, in incorruption, equal in purity with the Angels.  
7. Thus you see how these holy Fathers extol Continency and Chastity to the dignity of Angels Others lift it yet higher, 
Chastity maketh us like to God.  and place it in the next degree to the Divine purity. Climacus amongst the rest adventureth to say, that Chastity is the nearest similitude, 
Clima●us grad. 1●.  which man can possibly have with God: who as he is neither corporal, nor corruptible, delighteth much in integrity, and incorruption: Contrariwise the Devil's delight in dishonesty; and there want not wise men, that say, they rejoice in no vice so much, as in that. But S. Basil goeth more profoundly to work. 
S. Basil lib. de virginitate.  Virginity, saith he, is a rare and excellent thing: and to comprehend all in a word, it maketh a man most like to the incorruptible God. It proceedeth not from the body to the soul; but being properly in the soul, by the integrity thereof, a thing most precious, our bodies also are preserved entire. The soul receiving impression from the true Good, and from the desire thereof, is lifted up to that Good, by the holiness of Chastity, as by a forcible wing, and so endeavouring to serve and please the like with the like, that is, the incorruptible God, with purity incorruptible, it leadeth the integrity of the body, as a handmaid, to the service of the se●f same highest Good. And so the saithful soul preserving itself pure and unspotted, from all kind of filth, arriveth at last to have within itself, as in the finest cristal-seing-glasse, the similitude of God; God himself by his many graces infusing his glory and likeness into it, as it were by a most sweet stream or ray thereof.  
8. What can be said more honourable, or express more clearly the dignity of Chastity, then that from this dust and dirt of ours, it raiseth us to the rank of Angels, and not Angels only, but to the likeness and similitude of God himself? what will take a man with admiration, if this do not? what dignity will not justly seem base and sordid, compared with this heavenly honour? This is that great happiness, which was anciently so much desired by man, 
Gen. 3.  that the old crafty Serpent could find no other motive more forcible, to bring our first parents to his bent, then to promise them, they should be as Gods. But that, which was falsely promised by him, that could not perform what he promised, and promised by a way, by which it could not be compassed, we by Chastity do truly attain unto and firmly possess, doubtless the more solidly, the more perfectly Chastity is grounded in us.  
9 And because it is evident, by what hath been said, that Religious Chastity is in itself very excellent, we will consider a little, in what degeee it is excellent above all other kinds of Chastity: as gold doth not only differ in kind from of other inferior metals, but some gold is finer than other some, by many degrees. 
Religious Chastity compared with other kinds of continency.  A few things considered in the nature of Chastity will easily discover this unto us. It is ordinary in every thing, that the more white, the more beautiful, one more neat a thing is, the more foul and deformed is the spot also that falls upon it: And so it is in Chastity; no virtue is more tender than it. Aegidius one of the first companions of S. Francis was wont to compare it to a Cristall-looking-glasse, which the very breath doth slain. Others compare the contrary enticements to a flame of fire, which always leaveth some mark behind it, greater or lesser, according as the flame doth continue. Nothing therefore can be worse for Chastity, then to leave it in a place, where it may come by many rubs and assaults, such as the world is. For it cannot be, but as Cassian writeth, 
Cassian lib. 6. c 4.  (not only out of his own dictamen, but delivering it as the sense of all those ancient Fathers) that whosoever is in continual battle▪ though he often give his adversary the foil, yet sometimes he must needs be troubled, or also wounded. But Chastity guarded with the fences of Religion, and thereby drawn out of danger of all earthly things, receiveth no such damage; for either the darts of the enemy come not near it, or they lose their force before, and so their stroke is without effect.  

Helps in Religion to prefer ●e Chastity.  ●0. Moreover Chastity in Religion findeth many helps to preserve itself, and particularly a spare diet, which Poverty doth in a manner necessarily bring with it. For that which S. Hierome delivereth (an author certainly to be credited) is very true. It is hard to preserve Chastity at a full board of dainties. It hath also another Antidote, of which the same S. Hierome writeth to Rusticus. 
S. Hierome epist. 47.  Love the knowledge of holy Scriptures, and the corruption of flesh thou wilt not love. For where do people more frequently and more earnestly study the holy Scriptures, and all other good things, then in Religion? It hath humility and obedience, two special helps, and so inward to the state of Religion, & withal so present and efficacious a remedy of this disease, that none can be either more wholesome or more at hand amongst those which God hath left us. Of the one Saint Bernard writeth thus upon those words of our Saviour, 
S. Bernard serm 1. omn. sanct.  Blessed are the meek because they shall possess the earth. By this earth I understand our body, which if a soul intent to possess, if it desire to have command over the members thereof, itself must needs be meek, and subject to Superiors. For as itself is to the Superior which it hath, so shall it find that, which is inferior to itself. And therefore the soul that finds the flesh rebellious unto it, must understand that itself also is not so subject to Superiors powers as it ought to be; Of humility S. Gregory doth often speak in this kind, 
S. Greg. 〈◊〉 c. 13.  and particularly in his Morals thus: The vnspot●ednes of Chastity is to be preserved by preserving humility. For if our spirit be devoutly kept down under God, our flesh will not unlawfully be lifted up above our spirit. The spirit hath the rule over the flesh committed unto it, if so be notwithstanding, it acknowledge the duty of lawful subject on under God. For if it proudly contemn him that is the Creator of it, it is reason it should be combated by the flesh that is the subject. Thereupon that first disobedient man, as soon as by pride he had sinned, he covered his naked parts; for by reason he had put a spiritual disgrace upon God, he presently found the disgrace of his flesh, & he that would not be subject to his Creator, lost the right of command one● his flesh, which before he ruled.  
11. This is the armour, with which Religion doth defend the most beautiful flower of Chastity, not only perfectly, but with a great deal of ease and sweetness. It useth watching, fasting, and disciplines, and the like austerities, but these virtues of which I have spoken, and whereof Religion is the proper seat, together with the wariness and custody, which I mentioned before, are the chiefest defence: by them it may easily, and without any great trouble be conserved all our life time, free from the least corruption, and wholly unspotted; the body chaste, entire, unpolluted, and (which is the principal) the mind itself pure, innocent, undefiled. What can be more honourable in this frail, and slippery life? honourable certainly in itself, yet the more to be esteemed, because it is rare, and a gift imparted by God to few. Others through the heat of Concupiscence, do as it were fry in the furnace of their own flesh: 
Daniel. 3.  they that have received this heavenly gift in the same furnace of flesh, be, as anciently the three Children, attended by Angels, who love this virtue above the rest; and are not only nothing annoyed by the fire of lustful concupiscence, but feel a cool dewy wind blowing upon them, which doth so temper, and abate that parching heat, which is so general to all, that nothing is more easy, or more delightful to them, then to live chaste.  
12. Moreover in Religion, so soon as a body hath obliged himself by solemn vow to perpetual Chastity, the power of using not only all unlawful pleasure, but even of Marriage, 
Religious people uncapable of Marriage.  is so wholly cut off, that all Marriages are eue● after utterly void, as if they were contracted with a dead body; which gives no small addition to the dignity of Religious Chastity: because if it be laudable to abstain from the unseemlines of tha● pleasure, certainly the farther a body doth withdraw himself from it, the more laudable, and more glorious it is unto him. Now no man can be farther off from it, than he that had bound himself to such a state of life, wherein, though he would, he cannot use it. For that which we cannot do by right, and lawfully, is truly impossible for us to do. Which is the point, our Saviour would give us to understand in the Gospel, by the name of those eunuchs, which neither nature, nor art of man made so but themselves made themselves Eunuches, for the Kingdom of God. Which, as it were foolish and absurd to understand of the cutting of the body, so it is evidently to be taken for voluntary continency, and not for every kind of continency, but for that, which doth not only bar the act, but doth for ever cut of all power to the act. The words of our Saviour import as much; for he doth not say, they that do continually geld themselves, which might perhaps be applied to such, as with a settled resolution, to bridle themselves in this kind, should live chaste; but he saith: Qui se castraverunt; They that have gelded themselves; pointing at those that by once making a vow, have bereaved themselves of all power of using any such act ever after. The excellency and dignity of which thing is divinely declared unto us, by the Prophet Esay, 
Esay 5.6.5.  who being wholly ravished, with the splendour of the Gospel, among other commendations thereof, doth also fall upon this, in these words. Let not the Eunuch say; behold I am a dry tree, withered away, because this saith our Lord to the eunuchs: They that shall have kept my Sabbaoths, and chosen that, which I would have, and kept my, covenant I will give them a place within my house, & within my walls, & a name better than Sons, & Daughters: I will give them an everlasting name, which shall not perish. Who are these eunuchs, to whom this is said, and promised, but Religious people? They keep the Sabbaoth of our Lord, always abstaining from the toilsome and serui● works of earthly businesses, and wholly attending upon God; they have made a covenant with God, & confirmed it by Vow; they make choice of that, which God would have done, because by the conduct of Obedience, they depart not a haires-breadth, from the performance of his holy wil These men therefore, though they attend not to generation, and have moreover bereaved themselves of the power thereof; have not any reason notwithstanding to be sorry for it, or to esteem themselves therefore barren and unfruitful, because in the house of God, they shall have something, that is far better and more happy, then son's an● daughters in the world. Which, as S. Basil doth discourse upon it, 
S. Basil. lib. de Virg  is not only to dwell in his house, but to be in that rank and place therein, as shall far surpass all the splendour and dignity, which succession of children might have brought them; And not only so, but, as S. Augustin addeth, 
S. August. 〈…〉 Vi●g 25.  they shall have a peculiar glory proper to themselves, & not common t● the rest, that live in the same house and kingdom; which therefore perhaps is learned a Name, because by it they shall be distinguished from all other people. Which glory, and eminent dignity, and happiness, no doubt but the holy-ghost did also intend to express in that other passage of holy Scripture. Happy is the barren, 
S●p 3.14.  and undefiled, and the Eunuch, that hath not wrought iniquity with his hands, nor thought mischievous things against God. The choice gui●t of faith seal be ●iuen him, and a most acceptable portion in the temple of God. Who can think that this most welcome, or (as it is here termed) most acceptable portion, is promised to any other Eunuches, than the Eunuches of God, who have voluntarily deprived themselves for ever of all delights of this nature, and not without some trouble and difficulty, as it were, cutting away part of their body; so that not without reason, God may be said to owe them a greater recompense of future pleasure and delights divine. Wherefore it cannot be, but that the honour & dignity of Chastity, must be very great, seeing it shineth even in that heavenly glory above the rest. And what may we think of the light and splendour, which it hath in the darkness of this world, seeing in that height of glory & splendour of the Saints, it is so far from being obscured, that it rather addeth grace & brightness to their glory? we may justly make account that this state of continency is a most curious rich jewel, unknown a long time upon earth, but brought from heaven by our Saviour JESUS, and first consecrated in his own and his Blessed Mother's flesh, then delivered to his Spouse the Church, to the end that decked therewith, and her grace and beauty highly set forth by it, she might be the more welcome and amiable, both to her Spouse, and God her father. For as S. Hierome noteth, In the old law there was a kind of felicity, 
S. Hierome Ep. 22.  which called him blessed that had seed in Zion, and promise of riches. But presently when the Son of God set foot on earth, he enacted a new law in his own behalf, to wi●, that he that by the Angels was adored in heaven, should have also Angels be r● upon earth.   

Of the dignity of Religious Obedience. CHAP. V.  
IT followeth that we speak something in brief, of the dignity of Obedience; which though we should be less capable to understand by other means, the example and judgement of our Lord and Saviour Christ may be a sufficient testimony of it; finding, as we do, that he did so highly esteem of it. For as a man, that hath no skill in jewels and precious stones, if he see another, that is skilful, buy a stone at a high rate, and after he hath bought it, be very chary of it, and set greatly by it, cannot choose but think it was worth his money: so in weighing the deserts of whatsoever virtue, but chiefly of this of Obedience, we must not rule ourselves so much by reason, as by the example of him, who, as we know, was Wisdom itself, and could not mistake or be ignorant of what he did. 
Christ our Saviour valued obedience at a high rate. Io. 6.38. Philip 2.8.  Now that he did value Obedience at a very high rate, is evident, because whatsoever he did, or said, or projected in his life-time, though all other virtues had a part in it, is notwithstanding in a manner wholly ascribed to Obedience. For of himself he saith, that he came down from heaven, not to do his own will, but the will of his Father that sent him. And S. Paul ascribeth his whole life and death, and the particular manner of his death, wholly to Obedience; He was made obedient to death, yea the death of the Crosse. Finally S. Bernard affirmeth, 
S. Bernard in Cant. ser. 46.  that he preferred Obedience before his life, choosing rather to die, than not to obey. Obedience therefore must needs be a great virtue, or rather there is something divine, and more than virtue in it; seeing the Son of God, the sampler of perfection, he that came of purpose to put us into the way of perfection, did himself so seriously practise it, and commended it to us, to be no less seriously observed by us. 
S. Thomas 2.2. q 104▪ art. 1.  S. Thomas doth give this manifest reason of the importance and excellency of it; for as, saith he, in natural things it was necessary, that the things which are higher, should move the inferior by the abundance of natural virtues instilled by God into them; so in humane government, good order did require, that one should direct another, by force of authority and power communicated by God; which direction depending of reason and will, is not executed but by precept and command. Wherein, as the same Saint affirmeth, as the rule of our actions is no humane thing, but the first rule of all is the Divine Will, governing and ruling all other wills, whereof one is more near unto him then another, according to the order which God himself hath instituted. Which discourse of S. Thomas doth clearly discover unto us the nobleness of Obedience, because it conjoineth our will and judgement entirely with God; in which conjunction all perfection of men and Angels doth consist. For neither almsdeeds, nor preaching of the word of God, nor whatsoever austerity (and why should I stand to reckon up all particulars?) Martyrdom itself is of no esteem nor merit, unless it have relation to the performance of the Will of God. 
A comparison between Charity and Obedience.  Wherefore, as Charity is usually called the Queen of Virtues, Obedience certainly is the next unto it, and resembleth it very much in all things; for both of them conjoin us with God; both of them make us to accept or refuse that, which God desireth or refuseth: The difference is, that Charity worketh in nature of a friend, Obedience in nature of a subject; so that, though the manner be different the thing is the same, and the profit no less of the one then of the other; and in it we see the excellency of Obedience, whereof we speak, in regard that going through all our actions, it directeth them by a rule Divine, to wit, by the selfsame rule, wherewith the actions of God himself are directed. And what dignity can be greater in any creature? Upon which ground, Divines do style Obedience the form or sampler of other virtues, because the actions of all other virtues do aim at nothing else, but to perform the commands of God.  

It runneth through al.  3. Whereunto we may add another excellency, to wit, that though it be a peculiar virtue by itself, yet it hath a general extent to all things, comprehending whatsoever may happen in the life of man. For whosoever giveth himself wholly over, and subjected himself wholly to another man, reserveth nothing at all, neither place, nor work, nor any employment, neither outward nor inward business. So that, whether he be in action or out of action▪ whether he remain still in a place, or be upon going; whether he undertake, or leave, or alter from this business or the other; whether the matter be great or small, he is absolutely obliged in all things, & true Obedience taketh hold, & seasoneth and perfecteth al. 
And comprehendeth all virtues.  And moreover all virtues concur in it, and, as it were, attend upon it, to the perfecting of a most admirable piece of work, compounded of many gems and precious stones. For no man can ever subject himself wholly to another man, unless he be first greatly inflamed with the love of God, and have placed his whole trust and confidence upon him; he must also have great and profound humility, patience, fortitude, constancy, and all other virtues; for if Obedience want any of them, it will quickly begin to halt, and suddenly fail, and fall to the ground.  
4. But nothing doth show the excellency of this Virtue more, than the consideration of the matter, to which it doth extend itself; which all Masters of Spirit assign to be threefold. 
Three degree of Obedience.  First, all outward things commanded by Superiors, the execution whereof belongeth to Obedience; which is the lowest and least part of Obedience, and of itself very imperfect, and if nothing else concur with it, it is but such as slaves and brute beasts have, which are ruled by outward force, but their will doth not concur thereunto. The second degree therefore is a step higher, and comprehendeth the will, which as S. Gregory speaketh, 
S Greg. 35. Moral. c. 10.  is killed and sacrificed by Obedience: For the will of the subject conspiring with the will of his Superior, they are both perfectly conjoined together, or rather the subject wholly casting off and rooting out his own will, hath the will of the Superior fully engrafted in him, and is moved and wealded by it every way, as if it were his own. The third and highest degree of this Virtue, is to subject also our reason and judgement to the judgement of our Superiors; and not only to will, but to think the self same thing with them, and esteem it right, reasonable, and profitable, whatsoever they shall ordain; in a word, that their only beck bear such an authority in our mind, that unless it be apparently contrary to the known commandment of God, their judgement and opinion do wholly sway ours, and lead it captive after it.  
5. This is, 
Obedience a gift presented to God.  as it were, the feature and beautiful countenance of Obedience, which if men could behold with their corporal eyes, they would be greatly inflamed with the comely sight and noble aspect thereof. Obedience also is a gift presented to the Divine Majesty; wherefore look how much the thing which is presented, is justly to be valued, so much is Obedience to be prized. Now what hath man more worthy or more dear unto him, than reason and will? For to be a man, he must have them both, and consequently love them as much as he loves himself. For if naturally we love our flesh and bone, and the least parcel of them, so dear, that to preserve them we will take any pains; what affection must we needs have to those higher parts, parts more noble, and more essential to the nature of man? and so we find, that nothing is more natural to us, then to preserve not only the powers of our will and understanding, but the very use and actions of them. The proper act of our will, is liberty; the proper act of our understanding, is to pass our judgement upon a thing. Wherefore every man doth so naturally and so violently desire to have his own saying, and his own will, in every thing: which is more apparent, when (as oftentimes it happeneth) the thing itself is but a trifle; but it pleaseth us to have it so, because we will be free. If a thing be forbidden, the very forbidding of it doth whet our desire, for no other reason, but because, as I said, the sweetness of liberty doth of itself delight us. Wherefore seeing these things bear such sway in us, the difficulty must needs be the greater in breaking the violent course of them; and so much the greater, then in overcoming any other natural propension, by how much we are carried towards them by a more violent current. If therefore we put all these things together, the greatness of the oblation comprehending in itself so many things; the worth of these two things, which we offer; the labour and difficulty, which is in offering; we shall easily understand the excellency of Religious Obedience, and how far it doth surpass the bounds of Nature, seeing it cannot possibly be accomplished, but by perfect overcoming and subduing Nature. In which sense S. Gregory doth interpret that saying of the Wiseman; 
Prou 21.28.  The Obedient man shall speak victories; because, saith he, while we humbly subject ourselves to an other's voice, 
S. Greg. ●5, mor. c. 10.  we overcome ourselves within our hearts.  
6. But that, which doth show the magnificence of Obedience more than any thing else, is, that not only things, which are evil, or such as are but meanly good, but things very specially good, compared with Obedience, do lose of their light and beauty as the stars in presence of the Sun. It is S. gregory's saying (who in my opinion, among all the holy Fathers did best understand, and 〈◊〉 best declared the nature of every virtue) and he doth not intend to carry it by his sole authority, 
● Reg. 15.22. S. Greg. lib 6. in lib. reg. c. 2.  but he proveth it by holy Scripture: Better is obedience than sacrifice. You may see, saith S. Gregory, in what height of perfection the virtue of Obedience is placed, the Prophet beholding it in a higher elevation, than the divine oblations. And if we will follow the spiritual sense, Sacrifices have relation to great austerity of conversation; Holocaustes to the compunction of a retired life. Better therefore is Obedience than Sacrifice; and to hearken, rather than to offer the fat of rams: because it is of far higher desert, always to subject our own will to the will of another, then to pinch our bodies by extremity of fasting, or to kill ourselves by compunction, in a more private Sacrifice. For what is the fat of rams, but an inward and oily devotion? But yet Obedience is better, because he that hath learned perfectly to fulfil the will of his director, doth pass in the heavenly Kingdom those that do fast and weep. Thus saith S. Gregory.  

The excellency of Obedience confirmed by miracles.  7. Finally, in my judgement, the greatness of the often Miracles, which have been wrought by Obedience, are a most certain proof & evident confirmation of the excellency of it. For as if a man do many things above the course of Nature, we take it for a sign of great sanctity in him; so among virtues we may use the same argument, &, as I may say, canonize them the rather, & esteem them worthy of veneration, the more their gratefulness to God hath been showed by miracles. But who can reckon the miracles, which have been wrought by Obedience? All books are full of them; especially the Lives of the ancient Fathers, who have given good proof to the world, how highly this virtue is to be esteemed. S. Paul, 
S. Paul.  disciple of great S. Antony, is much renowned for it. For as he was greater than his master, in the power of miracles, as to whom S. Antony was wont to send those that himself could not cure; so by S. Anthony his own confession there was no other cause of it, but Obedience; which he was ever wont to point at, as a pattern for others to imitate; & many notable facts of his in this kind are to be seen upon record to this day. 
john.  john is also very famous in this kind, who being by his Abbot in jest bid to bring a lioness unto him, taking it as spoken in earnest, did not only not fear lest she should fall upon him, but following her when she fled, and crying after her in his Abbot's name to stand, took her, and brought her bound to the Monastery. What shall we say of him, that by command of his Abbot cast his son into a burning furnace, and took hi● out again whole & found? He certainly imitated Abraham, in offering his son; but in the greatness of the miracle he went beyond him, when he received him safe again. An other john for 3. years together watered a dry stake every day, as he was commanded, and fetched his water a great way of: At last it bore green leaves and fruit, which his Master gathering brought to the church, and said to the brethren: Behold the fruit of Obedience. No less wonderful is that, which Climacus recordeth of a young man called Innocentius. This man in his life-time was much devoted to the virtue of Obedience▪ and after his death and burial, being called upon and asked whether he were dead or no, he answered with a loud voice: That the obedient man could not dye. That, which is related of S. Columbanus, is also very memorable, that coming to the Monastery of Luxovium which himself had founded; and finding almost all sick, he used no other physic, but called them all into the court to thresh the corn in the heat of the sun. A hard task, especially for some of them, that were so feeble that they could hardly stand on their legs. Some of them, that thought themselves wiser and warier than the rest, kept themselves in their beds; others desirous to obey, came down to their work: all these were presently so perfectly cured of their disease, that they felt not so much as any grudging of it; the others punished for their slackness and distrust, had their agues all the year long, as S. Columban, reprehending and blaming them, had foretold.  
8. In the histories of the ancient Fathers we read of an other strange accident, wherein also we may see what Obedience is, compared with other virtues. Two natural brethren lived in one Monastery; one of them practised Obedience very much; the other gave himself to much austerity. This last, to try the other's sanctity, commanded him to go into a river that was full of crocodiles; which he did without delay; and the cruel serpents came fawning upon him, and licked his feet. Not long after they happened both upon a dead man's body, and falling jointly to their prayers, the man came to life: Which the Monk, that was given to fasting, secretly in his thoughts attributed to himself; but his Abbot chid him sharply for it, having understood by revelation, that it was not his fasting, but the other's obedience that obtained it.  
9 Such therefore is the dignity of Obedience, as to be worthy to be declared by such extraordinary miracles. And no wonder. For they that live in Obedience, have put themselves wholly into the hands of God, to be entirely possessed and governed by him. And consequently that, which is in the Prophet Esay, 
Esay 62.3.  is fulfilled in them: Thou shalt be a crown of glory in my hand, and a kingly diadem in the hand of thy God. From which glory and excellenty, the commodities also do follow, which are there mentioned: Thou shalt no longer be called the forsaken, and thy land shall be no more called desolate, but thou shalt be called: My will in it. Which glorious name, and much more the thing itself, to whom doth it more fitly agree, then to a Religious man, who by obedience is so wholly, as I said, in God's possession, that the Divine will is in him always most perfectly performed in all things? Men therefore may rejoice, if they will, in whatsoever other titles of honour, and be called Kings, and Princes, and Cardinals: A Religious soul hath far more solid ground of joy in this name, which God hath imposed, and wherein is briefly comprised all that is Good, My will is in it.   

That a Religious man is above all earthly things; and how glorious this is. CHAP. VI  
IF the dignity of every one of these Vows by itself be so very great as we have showed, what splendour and dignity must needs arise of them all, when they meet together, as they do in a Religious state, it consisting wholly of these three Vows concurring in one, with all that which is good and excellent in them, to make, uphold, and adorn the nature, substance, and essence of Religion? 
The generous mind of a Religious man.  which once set on foot and undertaken (besides the several greatnesses and ornaments, which rise of several things in it) it hath one general operation, rare and admirable, to wit, that it breeds in him, that embraces it, so generous, so noble, and so lofty a disposition of mind, that seated above all worldly things, he beholds them as things unworthy to be regarded, he despiseth them, he sets them at naught, and contemns them, and doth not only not hunt after them, as worldlings, who wholly employ themselves in the pursuit of them, and run into so many debates and differences among themselves about them; but when they are offered, he refuseth them; when he had plenty of them, he cast them away; he spurns at them as dirt, or, as we said before out of the Apostle, 
Philip. 3. ●.  he loathes them as dung, which, as base and stinking, is hateful. How proper this disposition of mind is to a Religious state, and how naturally and how deeply it is engrafted in it, S. Gregory will tell us, 
S. Gregory, 〈◊〉. 〈◊〉▪ 5.  describing his own state of mind in both his changes, when first he was Religious, and afterwards chosen Pope of Rome. These are his words: Desiring nothing in this world, nor fearing any thing from it, I seemed to myself to stand, as it were, upon the top of all things; in so much that I did almost think that fulfilled in me, 
〈◊〉 ●8. 14.  which by the promise of our Lord I had learned out of the Prophet: I will lift thee up above the heights of the earth; for he is lifted above the heights of the earth, who, by contempt of mind, treads under foot the things, which seem in the world high and glorious. But suddenly blown off, by the tempest of this temptation, from the height I was in, I am fallen into fears and tremble; for though in behalf of myself I do not fear, yet of those, that are committed to my charge, I greatly stand in fear.  

 2. Which is not the sense of S. Gregory only; but S. Gregory having taken it from Religion, it is the general persuasion of all Religious people, that live according to their Rule, and indeed of Religion itself. All have this spirit infused into them, together with the mind and reso●●●ion, which is given them to forsake the world: For they could not forsake it, but that they contemn it; nor could they contemn it but that they are raised in mind above it. And they forsake not only that, which they have in present (which oftimes is but a small matter) but the desire and greediness of having, which hath a great extent, or rather hath no bounds at all, but reacheth absolutely to all things. Wherefore no Religious man must think so meanly of this his oblation, as to conceive that it is little, which he offers to God, when he bars himself by the Vow of Poverty from possessing any thing upon earth: because he doth not only offer that which he had, or that which might have befallen him, or which he might have gotten by industry, but absolutely the whole world. Which we learn by the example of S. Peter, who certainly left not much, yea rather that which he left, was little or nothing, and yet he did not stick to say, as we read in S. Matthew: Behold, we have left all things. Of which profession S. Augustin writes to Paulinus that, 
Matt. 19.27.  which agreeth fitly to Religious persons: 
S. August. ep st. 34.  The fishermen, that at the voice of our Saviour forsook their nets and their little boats, boasted with great joy that they had left all things, and followed our Lord. And he contemneth all things, who contemns not only what he could, but what he would have had. The difference is, that the eyes of God only are witnesses, of what a man would have had; of that which a man had, 
S Greg. hom. 1. in evang.  man also is witness. S. Gregory is of the same opinion, testifying that S. Peter and S. Andrew are therefore to be said, to have left much; because they left the desire of having any thing, the affection being more to be weighed, than the substance, which we do forsake. He left much, saith he, that retained nothing to himself; he left much that left all, though all were never so little.  
3. This is that, which all Religious people do; For they deprive not themselves only of the possession of things, but cast away all desire of whatsoever things in the world: Which whosoever doth, hath the whole world under his feet, and consequently hath not only whereof greatly to rejoice, and account himself happy in the peace, and tranquillity, and pleasure of his mind; but is to be accounted in honour and dignity higher than Kings and Princes, notwithstanding their dominions and commands; 
Tob. 39.30  and may be fitly compared to the Eagle, which (as holy Scripture speaketh) is raised at the command of God, 
S. Greg. 31. mor. 19  and buildeth his nest in craggy places. Upon which words S. Gregory discourseth in this manner: This is a special token of the Elect, that they know so to walk the paths of this present life, as by certainty of hope to discover, when they are arrived to the high places, where they may behold all transitory things beneath them, and, through the love of Eternity, tread, whatsoever is high in the world, under their feet. From whence it is, that God by the Prophet saith to the soul, 
Es 18.  that followeth him: I will lift thee up above the heights of the earth. The low places of the earth are losses, reproaches, poverty, contempt, which the lovers of the world, walking the plains of the broad way, do not cease to tread under foot, by avoiding them. The heights of the earth are Interest, flatteries of servants and subjects, abundance of wealth, honour, and height of promotion, which they, that creep still upon the ground through earthly desires, esteem high; because they make account there is some great matter in them: but if our hart be once fixed in heavenly things, presently it appeareth how abject that is, which before seemed high.  

Religious people do good with ease.  4. Thus far S. Gregory; whereunto we may add further, that as the Eagle, which is here described, doth not only soar on high, but build also in high places: so may we say of Religious people, and apply it fitly unto them. For as to fly, is laborious, importing a continual strife and contention, and consequently cannot be perpetual; but in the nest a bird is quiet, and settled at case; so we may observe the like difference among men, which follow virtuous courses. For they, that by strength of consideration only and desire, raise themselves from the earth, as many secular people do, certainly do very well; but it is, as it were, by force and strength of arms: and that which S. Augustin bewailed in himself, 
S. August. 〈◊〉 ●. 42.  must needs befall them, But I fall back into the same, through the weight of my miseries, and am swallowed-up again by my wont defects; and they hold me, and I weep bitterly; but they hold me very strongly, so heavy is the burden of Cuslome upon me. But they, who have builded their nest on high, do both spare this wearisomeness of contention and strife with themselves, and repose at ease. The nest of a Religious man, is the state itself. And have not then Religious people placed their nest on high, seeing their state is raised above all things created? In which height they contain themselves, not only without any difficulty, but with exceeding pleasure, abhorring nothing more, then to stoop to these base things again, which both in mind and deed they have set at naught.  
5. And that we may the better conceive both the great honour and profit of a mind thus seated on high, as the Scripture expresseth unto us in the similitude aforesaid, let us imagine with ourselves, that we see a man raised by degrees so high from the ground, up into the air, that at last we behold him seated upon the very clouds looking down upon us. For by this representation, which cannot be verified in a body, we shall come to understand, what may be done, and is daily acted, in the mind. For if a man were seated so high, as I say, upon the clouds, many things were considerable in him: First, that all would admire him; secondly if he had any enemy upon earth, he were in safety, quite out of his reach; thirdly, these inferior things being so far beneath him, would not trouble his sight; many of them he would not see at al. 
Religious people are ●●ble 〈◊〉  The like doth happen to a soul, when God hath raised it from this earthly dust and filth, and placed it in the eminent elevation of Religion. For it getteth presently a kind of nobleness of hart, far more excellent than that, which worldly honour, or promotion's, or birth, doth raise a man unto; 
 as S. Cyprian avoucheth in these words: He that hath renounced the world, is above all honours and kingdoms: and therefore he that consecrateth himself to God and our Saviour, desireth no earthly but heavenly kingdoms. Which admirable worth of a Religious soul, doth not only lie open to the eyes of God (which were indeed enough) but it is most commonly very apparent to men; for though they be not willing to imitate, yet they cannot but admire, those that put themselves upon these high courses. Whereupon S. Hie●cme saith very truly, 
S. 〈…〉  that, to have riches, is nothing commendable, but to contemn them for Christ our Saviour; nor to gape after honour, but to neglect it: and after a strange manner of revolution, they that have these things, are neglected; and they that will not have them, are much commended.  
6. Religious people moreover are not subject to chances and misfortunes, 
Not subject to worldly misfortunes.  as other men are. For what power can chance have over them, who forsaking all changeable things have barred it quite out from them▪ and consequently, as it were, placed above the winds, are never moved, but are constant in all events, and in a perpetual calm; which calm or tranquillity of mind, were it to be bought for gold, what would not be given for it? But gold will not buy it, nor is it to be purchased by any earthly thing, but by contemning all things: because whatsoever earthly thing thou hast, thou mayst lose it; but he that hath forsaken all things, hath nothing, by the loss whereof he may be either hurt or troubled; so that this continual and never-changeable peace of mind, this mind and countenance which in all events is ever the same (such as S. A●hanasius doth tell us that S. Antony did always carry) is proper to a Religious state. 
S. Athan. in vita S. Antony. S. Cyprian l. 2. ●p. 1.  And the same doth place us beyond the reach of all the fiery darts of our malignant Enemy; so that either they come not near us, or are easily avoided; which S. Cyprian doth express very well in these words: What power and strength hath such a mind? not only cleansed, and pure, and untouched by whatsoever spot or blemish the Enemy endeavoureth to cast upon it, by reason it hath withdrawn itself from the pernicious traffic of this world, but higher and stronger than any force he can make; in so much that it hath a kind of mastery and command over his whole host and army.  
7. But that, 
Above all things.  which is most of all, and most behooveful for our souls, is, that this state doth naturally breed in our mind an extraordinary light, making it very plain unto us that whatsoever is under the cope of heaven, is of small value, 
S. Chrysost. hom. 15. ad popul. Antioch.  deceitful, idle, and unworthy of our love. To which effect S. Chrysostom● doth discourse eloquently in this manner: As when we look down from the top of a hill, all things seem little unto us, not only men and trees, but whole cities & armies, are like so many emmets upon the ground: so they, that raising their mind to heavenly things are as it were seated on high, think all humane things, as power, glory, wealth, and the like, so small and so little to be regarded, that they judge it an unworthy thing, if the nobleness of their uncorruptible mind should stoop unto them. What can be more glorious than such a state, which by leaving us nothing, doth put us into so great safety, and make us so impregnable, that we shall not need to fear neither force, cor fortune; neither man nor any humane chance? Which the same blessed Saint doth attribute much to Poverty: for taking upon him to commend a single life, among other praises thereof, doth reckon this blessing, that it may be poor, and cutting of thereby all care and danger, raise itself the nearer to Heaven. 
S Chrysoft. de V●rg. cap 81.  For, saith he▪ he that hath nothing, despiseth all things, as if he had all at command: and with great freedom, is bold to speak to Prince and Potentate, and to him that weareth the crown. He that contemneth money, being a downright man, doth easily also contemn death itself; and being ahove all, fearing nothing, dreading nothing, doth speak the more freely to al. But a man that is greedy of money, is not only a slave to his money, but a slave to the opinion and reputation of men, a slave to his own life, and, in one word, 
S. Greg. mor ●● 7● cap. 15.  a slave to all that belongeth to this life. S. Gregory also, in the seaventh of his Morals doth beat upon the same point; Let us life up the eyes of our mind (saith he) and behold in what height the Elect are inwardly seated, that are outwardly oppressed; all that which is eminent abroad, to their inward sight lies flat, and is contemptible. For inwardly lifted above themselves, they place their soul on high, and whatsoever they suffer in this life, they behold it as it were passing under them, and little belonging to them; and while, as I may say, they strive in mind to be rid of their flesh, they are almost ignorant of what they endure in it. For, as seated in the top of a great high hill, they utterly contemn the joys of this present life; and being higher than themselves by a spiritual highness, they behold within, all that beneath them, which by carnal glory is so high flown without. From whence it cometh, that they spare no power opposing itself against virtue, but by the authority of their spirit keep down whomsoever they espy lift themselves up by pride. Thus spoke S. Gregory, bringing also many examples of this nature, out of holy Scripture, as of Moses against Pharaoh; Nathan against David; Helyas against Achab; Elizeus against joram. And the like spirit Religion doth put into those, that follow it; and giveth them an undaunted courage, not proceedring of pride, but from the nobleness of their hart, and the contempt of all earthly things, even to stand with Princes and Kings in behalf and defence of the glory of God.  

Religious men freely speak their mind.  8. It is recorded of S. Bernardin of Sienna, that he was weary free to speak his mind; and when cause required, sticked not publicly to reprehend the vices of people of great quality, without respect of persons. In a sermon once he reprehended the Duke of Milan; whereupon the Duke being highly displeased, sent him word he should die if he left not off. S. Bernardin the next day spoke far more sharply against the same vice, in a great assembly of people; which confidence of his did so daunt the Duke, that he durst never after trouble him. But to try whether he could be corrupted, sent him a golden bowl full of gold; which though the Saint rejected with a great deal of indignation, the Duke commanded it should be again presented him with a long compliment, and much entreaty to admit of it. They, that carried it, did so press the Saint, that when he saw there was no end, rising up, he bade them follow him, and going directly to the prison, 
S. Columbanus.  he bestowed it upon those that were in for debt, and set them all free the same day. We read, that S. Columbanus used the like freedom in reprehending The●dorick King of the French, for his wicked life. And once the King hearing, that he was come to town, sent a princely supper for him, to his lodging, with all things necessary, and a great retinue to wait upon him. S. Columbanus seeing it, 
Eccl. 14.25.  rejected it with angry countenance and speech, pronouncing that verse out of Scripture: The jousts of the wicked, are not acceptable to the Highest. Adding moreover, that it was an unworthy thing to pollute the mouths of God's servants, with meat from him, that did so unjustly make war against them. He had scarce uttered these words; when all the vessels, in which the meat was brought, broke in pieces, the wine and cider run about the floor, and every thing was scattered hi●●er and thither. They that served it, were much amazed; the King himself much affrighted ran presently to the Saint, telling him: He was his servant in whatsoever he would command. But not long after, he fell to his wont courses, and the Saint spared not to check him, and threaten him for it. 
S Antonio of Milan.  But what shall we say to the courage of S. Anthony of Milan? when Ezelinus wasted Italy with fire and sword, he went and spoke thus unto him: Thou cruel and bloody Tyrant, when wilt thou make an end of spilling the blood of men? And following on his discourse in he same strain, he ripped up all his violent proceedings, his murders, robberies and pillages, threatening him with vengeance from heaven▪ and the wrath of the Eternal God. His followers hearing this kind of language, looked for no other, but that their Master, according to his bloody custom, should bid them runne the man through, that made himself so bold a controller. But it happened far otherwise; for taking his girdle, he put it about his own neck in steed of a rope, of a wolf being become a lamb, and falling down upon his knees, he humbly begged pardon for his sins, and promised he would do whatsoever satisfaction or punishment the Saint would impose upon him. But after a while returning to his former villainies, he made an attempt upon the virtue of the Saint, after the manner following: He sent some of his retinue to him, with very rich presents, commanding them, that by earnest entreaty and importunity, and all means possible, they should win him, to accept of them: and if he did accept of them, they should presently cut of his head: if he could not be won unto it, they should patiently stand to hear, whatsoever he would say unto them. They went, and with all the courtesy and seeming humility of the world, they pressed him over and over again, to admit of the present, their Lord and Master had been pleased to honour him with. But S. Antony with great freedom spoke thus unto them: Away instantly with your wicked gifts, lest the house fall upon you, or the earth open and swallow you up, and we come in danger by your destruction. And so sent them away; which Ezelinus hearing did ever after honour the man, as a great Saint. So great is the opinion, which the contempt of earthly things doth breed in the minds even of wicked men.  
9 Now seeing a Religious state doth thus arm us against all adversity, 
Religion preserveth up in prosperity.  let us consider a little also, how it doth defend us in prosperity; that contemning both, we may neither fear the one, nor care for the other. Great S. Antony shall be our precedent in this kind; 
S. Antony the great.  of whom we find it recorded, that whereas Constantine the Great, that famous Emperor, and his two sons Constance and Constantius, were wont often to write unto him in most submissive & courteous manner, as to their Father, he was so far from glorying in it, that he was wont to say: That no man must think it any great matter, if the Kings of the world do at any time, write to the servants of God; for though they have in outward appearance a greater power, their nature is the same; they live and die, as others do. The thing which is great indeed, and highly to be esteemed, is, that God hath sent letters unto us, that is, his Law, the fummarie of his will, & hath spoken unto us by his only Son Which notwithstanding, his Brethren entreating him to make them some answer, that he might not seem to slight the courtesy of so great Princes, he writ back unto them, exhorting them to justice, and clementy, and always to remember they were Men, and should one day themselves appear in judgement before the Tribunal of CHRIST, who is true Lord of al. This mind so noble and so high, seated above all earthly things, contemning them all as dust, S. Antony and the rest did not bring with them to Religion, but sucked it out of Religion; and we also being bred in the same school, may easily gain the like; and the nobleness of our calling doth require it and, doubtless, instil it into us.   

How noble a thing it is in a Religious man, to forsake his natural kindred. CHAP. VII.  
IT is a great matter to set all earthly things at naught; and they that do so, are not to be ranked any more with the vulgar sort, but to be honoured as people of high degree of promotion and excellency: Yet it is a far greater work, to foretake our kindred and nearest allies in blood. For the love, which we bear them, is of a higher strain, far more intense, more natural, and more deeply rooted in us. 
The force of the love of our kindred.  For what likeness, or what connexion hath a man with gold, and silver, with lands and possessions? But with men he hath a natural affinity, and specially with such as come of the same stock: which is the reason, that the love of parents towards their children, of children towards their parents, and of brethren among themselves, is so hard to be dissembled. And that this proceedeth not so much out of judgement and deliberation grounded in reason, as of a natural inclination and force, we see by that which happeneth in beasts, who, to preserve their yong-ones, stick not to venture life and limb. And consequently the stronger this bond and tie is, the greater force is required to break it, and a hart more resolute, either to abide or to act this disjunction. So that among the rest of the commendations of a Religious state, this is none of the least, that, as it raiseth a man above all other things, it overcometh also this natural affection, parting a man from those, with whom he was bred and borne; and bringing him, for the love of our Saviour, to enter league with others, whom he never saw; and to take more pleasure in living with them, then with his own natural kindred: which is an evident argument, that this manner of calling is far above the reach of Nature. For if we see a father of many children oftimes lament and grieve so bitterly for the loss of some one among them, though the rest of his family and stock be sound and safe; what grief should theirs, if we speak of nature, be, who lose all at once, parents, brethren, sisters, friends, domesticals, and all that nature or custom and familiar acquaintance had linked them so long & so deeply unto? It is not nature therefore, that worketh this strange effect, but it is abundant grace from Heaven, and plenty of virtue and infused from above.  

Grace stronger the● nature.  2. And so we find in the Gospel, that our Saviour doth challenge it as one of his greatest works. I came not, saith he, to send peace, but the sword. For I came to sever man against his father, and the daughter-in-law against her mother-in-law. And it is not without great consideration, that he termeth this grace, a sword. 
Matt. 10.31.  For as a sword is made of iron, and used to cut asunder things which grow fast together; so it giveth us to understand, that this natural tie of affinity is very strong, and cannot be severed but by a force as strong as iron, that is, by the mighty hand of God, drawing to himself the hearts of whom he will, and parting them from whom he will: and daily experience doth teach us it to be so. For how should it otherwise come to pass, that they, who before lived most dearly linked together in the same house, inspired afterwards by this heavenly Spirit, should so suddenly resolve not to yield to flesh and blood, but depart for ever from them, with that constant resolution, as if they had never known them, and did nothing belong unto them? and (which is more signal) they that remain, weep for him that goeth; he that goeth away, is full of joy and gladness. What is the reason of it, but because even before he part with them, he is already cut off and severed from them by this divine sword; and therefore parteth without any sense of feeling: but they that have not felt the force of this sword, are still linked to him, & consequently feel much grief in parting. Theodoret recounteth of one Marcianus, 
Theodoret in Relig. hist.  a man of noble extraction, and indeed of the blood Royal, that he betook himself into a Monastery, that was seated far out of the way. After many years, his sister, who was Lady of the City where she dwelled, coming with her son (that was under age) and many presents to the Monastery, he would by no means see her; only he admitted the child, to the end he might send him home with some good instructions. And when she entreated him, that he would at least accept of the presents which she had brought, if not as he was her kinsman, yet as one that was poor, and might have need of them, he made her this answer: How many monasteries of poor people did you meet by the way, before you came to me? And seeing you bestowed not these presents upon them, it is clear you present them me for hindered sake. And so constantly he rejected them al. Which fact of his Theodoret doth so extol, that he saith, he was a man above nature, fashioned after a heavenly manner. Doubtless therefore this disposition of Religious people, is one of the specialest graces, which the holy-ghost is wont to impart unto us, and requireth great strength of mind; and is also a sign of much virtue and worth in them that have it. In so much that it is one of the chief commands, which our Lord is pleased to lay upon the Spouse, whom he chooseth for himself, 
Ps. 44.11.  & desireth should be without spot or wrinkle; Harken, daughter, and see, and incline thy ear, and forget thy people, and the house of thy father. To be his Daughter, to be his Spouse, and worthy to be in the arms of God, this prime condition is first required, as a portion settled, that she do not only forsake, but forget her carnal kindred: and if she do so, what is further promised? And the king shall covet thy beauty. As who should say: By that fact of thine, thy beauty and comeliness will be so increased, that the sovereign King and Lord of the world, inflamed with thy love, will presently take thee for his Spouse, and place thee in Princely dignity.  
3. We have a memorable example hereof in that great Patriarch Abraham, whose fact doth both much resemble, 
Gen. 12.  and greatly illustrate that, which all Religious people do. Our Lord said unto him: Go forth of thy land, and from thy kindred, and from the house of thy father, and come into the land, which I shall show thee. It had been enough, as S. Ambrose discourseth, 
S. Ambros. lib. 1. de Abrah. c. 2.  to have said, forth of thy land, because in this one word, all the rest is contained; but he would add these particulars, that his affection might be the more tried. Wherefore his faith is worthily renowned: and (as the same S. Ambrose saith) by this his fact, he prevented the sayings of the Wisemen, whereof one is: Follow God. This all Religious people do going out of the house of their father, & forsaking their kinsfolk not only by leaving the affection to them, but corporally parting from them; and which is more than all the rest, they part not to go to some certain determinate place, but whithersoever God from thenceforward shall appoint them. For they deliver themselves over, to the will and command of their Superiors, not in some one particular thing agreed upon, as it were, by covenant and consent, but in whatsoever they shall be pleased to order, and, as God's Vice-gerents, show unto them.  

The fact of Abraham and Religious men compared.  4. And if I may be bold to speak my mind, me thinks I see somewhat more in that which every Religious man doth, then in the fact of Abraham, for as much as concerneth this particular. For Abraham left indeed his country, and part of his kindred: but yet carried with him all his wealth, which was very great, and his brother Loth, Sara his wife, all his servants, and a full household; so that a man may in a manner rather say, that he carried the chief commodities of his country away with him, then that he left his country. But Religious people, how truly, how perfectly do they forsake house, possessions, kindred; and naked, and solitary betake themselves to the standard of Christ, who hung naked for them upon th● Cross? Abraha● upon the performance of that commandment of God, was promised great matters: 
Gen. 12.2.  I will bless thee, and magnify thy name, and thou shalt be blessed. I will bless them that bless thee, and curse them that curse thee. Which being spoken and performed to him, why should not we also hope to be partakers of the same promises and reward, seeing in fact we jump with him? yea expect somewhat more. For these blessings in him were temporal, and consequently a far less reward; but ours are spiritual without comparison greater and better. But yet from hence we may learn, how great the dignity of a Religious vocation is, in regard of the point we speak of, seeing it equals so noble a fact of so divine a man.  

 5. For what power over all carnal affection had that famous Pastor▪ who, as we read in Vi●i● Patrum, would not speak to the Provost in behalf of his sister's son, that was in hazard to be put to death? or Pior, who being bid by S. Anthony (whose disciple he was) to go to his sister that was come to see him, went to her, but yet held his eyes shut, so that he did not see her. By whose example, john also being commanded to present himself before his sister, showed himself disguised as a stranger, and she not knowing him, he presently went his way. And as these two dealt with their sisters, so did Marcus with his mother; for he all besmothed his face with soot and smoke, and in a dirty frock of sackcloth stood before her, with his eyes shut, that he might have no sight of her. Euagrius followed the same strain: For when one brought him word that his father was dead, he told him: he lied; for (saith he) my father is immortal. S. Francis might have said as much, who together with his father's inheritance renouncing also his father, made that worthy profession, that now he was more f●●e truly to say: Our father which art in heaven. And many more like examples we might bring; as of S. Bernard and his Brethren, of Pachomius, and Theodore a disciple of his; whereof the first forsook their sister, the latter two their mother, and refusing to admit them into their sight, were cause that they also at last abandoned the world.  
6. But we shall not need to search ancient Records; we see daily examples of the like virtue before our eyes. For how often, or rather, as I said, how daily have we ourselves beheld, not only men grown in years, but very youths, entertain their weeping parents, and their whole kindred, without shedding one tear, yea rather laughing when they lamented and grieved? Which comes not of hardness of hart, or dull stupidity, for if a stranger were in grief in misery, they would soon bewail his woes. But the Sword, I speak of, is to be seen in their hearts, and hath divided them from their friends and kindred, to whom before, their affection was so deep engaged; not that they have left to love them, seeing they make profession to love their very enemies, but casting of all carnal affection, which oftimes puts us upon things unworthy, they have wholly changed it into spiritual charity. Which noble disposition, as it is in itself most excellent, cannot choose also but be most grateful to God, and plentifully rewarded with great graces. Moses doth, to my thinking, lively express it, when in his Prophetical testament, directing his speech to the Tribe of Levi dedicated to God, and for that reason resembling somewhat a Religious state, he pronounceth this blessing over them: 
Deve. ●●. 9.  He that hath said to his father, and to his mother: I know you not; and to his brethren; I am ignorant of them, and have not known their children. These have kept thy speech, and observed thy Covenant. Bless, o Lord, his strength, and receive the works of his hands. Strike the backs of his enemies, and let not them rise, that hate him.   

That a Religious man hath also forsaken himself; and how noble a thing that is. CHAP. VIII.  
NEXT to external goods, and natural kindred, which Religious people do wholly forsake, there is a third and more excellent degree behind, and doubtless the highest that can be in matter of Perfection; to wit, that he leaves himself. 
Thren. 5.28.  This is to lift himself, not only above all other things, 
S. Greg. Hom. 33 in Fuarg.  but above himsels. Which the Prophet Hieremie doth so highly commend. And of the rareness, and difficulty, and worth thereof, S. Gregory doth say excellently well: Perhaps it is no very hard matter for a man to leave his possessions; 
The difficulty of renouncing oneself.  but it is very hard to leave himself: for it is a less matter to renounce what he hath; but it is very much to renounce what he is. And certainly it is very true. For if we find so much difficulty in forsaking what we have, loving it for ourselves; how much more difficulty must there needs be, in forsaking ourselves? For as a natural and inbred as the love of a man's self is, so hard must it needs be, to cast away a man's self: And if we consider well, what the business is, and it be done in earnest, it is not much less, yea it is a kind of death, because it is to dye to oneself. And accordinly S. Gregory doth express it in these terms: To reneunce that which one it, To fall soul with oneself; To kill that which he is. And heerupon a Religious man is accounted a dead man. Which Apollo, one of the ancient Fathers, declared by this notable fact of his, related by S. Bernard and others: 
S. Bernard ser dem●raculo in nupu●.  One of his carnal brethren came once unto him, craving his assistance in some business, which he had: the Saint asked him, why he did not rather go to a third, brother of theirs; his brother wondering at this question, told him he was dead and buried long ago. So was I, saith Apollo, above twenty years since, when I to●ke this holy habit upon me.  

S. Basil. Reg. 〈◊〉. c. ●.  2. S. Basil is of the same opinion; and disputing the question at large delivereth, that no man entangled in the world, can attain to this abnegation of himself, whereof our Saviour saith: If any one will come after me, let him deny himself; and giveth this reason: Because to deny oneself, is nothing else but wholly and utterly to forget every thing belonging to his former life, 
〈…〉 2●.  and to depart from his own will▪ which in a secular life is most hard to compass; not to say, that it is altogether impossible.  
3. And we may compare this high degree of Perfection, to which Religion doth raise us by the denial of ourselves, an other way. For as when we give a thing away to another man, we wholly forgo it; so when we give ourselves to God; this being the nature, or, as I may call it, the essence of Religion (as I have showed at large elsewhere) to put us wholly over to God by force of Vow, and give him full dominion over us. For first it delivereth our body unto him, both by the vow of Chastity, and, as all other things, by the vow of Obedience, so that it is no more ours that live in it, but his, for whom we live in it. Upon which ground S. Bernard doth solidly build this document, that Religious people must deal with their bodies, 
S. Bernard 〈…〉  as with a thing, that belongeth not to themselves, but to God. Secondly, it delivereth our soul unto him, that is, our Will, our judgement▪ our Freedom, which is All in al. For our soul is, as it were, the Castle in a City; the key of this Castle is our liberty; so that when we deliver our liberty up to God, we deliver all unto him; and so long as it is in his hands, he is master of al. Finally it delivereth up to God, the use of all these things; which though it necessarily follow of the former, yet to make the thing more plain, we speak of it a part. For we cannot employ our soul nor our body in things, which of ourselves we are inclined unto, but in those, to which our Superiors are pleased to order us. And this delivery is not a thing private or hidden, acted only in thought or resolution, but it is made externally, by an outward declaration, by word of mouth, before witnesses, and in the hands of an other man, that, in place of God, accepteth the donation; in brief it is a kind of contract, to the solemnising and authenticating whereof, nothing is wanting. And consequently a Religious man, that by solemn promise hath once dea●sed the dominion of himself, hath so wholly given over himself, that if afterwards he go about to resume any thing of himself, he offendeth as much as a man, 
 that taketh from an other that, which himself had never any ●ig●t unto. Whereupon S. Bas●l saith, that Whatsoever stealeth himself from God, having once consecrated himself unto him, committeth sacrilege. 
S. Bernard s●r. 19 in Cant.  And S. Bernard reprehendeth some of his Monks upon the same grounds▪ in these words: You, that have once entrusted us with the care over you, Why do you meddle again with yourselves? As if he should say: what power have you now over yourselves, since you have once given over your right? Which if it be true, as S. Bernard will have it, can there be a more perfect manner of renouncing oneself then that, which is practised in Religion? Again; how excellent a thing must Religion needs be, and how high in the favour of God, seeing it is so liberal towards him?  
4. Among men, slavery and captivity is accounted one of the hardest and heaviest things that are, because it taketh away a man's freedom, and maketh him so subject to an other, that he must do all things after an other's fancy. Yet if we look into the matter well, that kind of servitude bindeth the body only; the mind is altogether free: for there is no slave but he may think his pleasure, and love and hate what he listeth, grieve and rejoice at what he wil But a Religious man, offering his very soul to God, offereth also the operations of the soul; and must conform all his inward affections to the same rule: whereupon in all Religious Orders, the laws and constitutions, which are set down in writing, and the commands of Superiors by word of mouth, prescribe not only what is outwardly to be done or avoided, but much more what is inwardly to be performed. So that no servitude ever was or can be more strict than that, which Religious people undergo: But the more strict it is, it proves also the more pleasant; because of the infinite pleasure which is in God, who communicateth himself so much the more plentifully to his creatures, the more narrowly they bind themselves, and the more sincerely they are subject, unto him. Wherefore, among other great treasures of a Religious life, we must also reckon this, that it bringeth us wholly to forsake and cast off ourselves for ever, by so strict an obligation, 
Glossa num. 30.  that it can never be called-in or made void. In commendation of which thing the Gloss (the authority whereof is very great in the exposition of holy Scripture) doth worthily speak these words: Others vow calves, others rams, others their houses; the Nazarean voweth himself; this is the vow of the Nazarean, which is above all other vows. Our son, and our daughter, and our cattle be without us: but to offer ourselves, to employ not an other's but our own labour, is more perfect and more eminent than all other vows.   

That all Virtues concur in a Religious State. CHAP. IX.  

Virtue the riches of a Christian.  THE only wealth of a Christian, is Virtue. He that hath little virtue, is poor; he that hath much virtue, is to be accounted truly rich; and the more virtue a man hath, the richer he is. How much is therefore Religion to be esteemed, where a man shall find, not one or two virtues only, but absolutely all, in great abundance concurring together? insomuch that the very nature of Religion is, as it were, a Compound of Virtue; and if we look into it, we shall find it to be so; because if any one virtue be wanting▪ the whole State of Religion is the weaker by it.  

Virtues infused with a Religious vocation.  2. I speak not now of those virtues, which every one doth get by his own long practice in them, and daily endeavour, which notwithstanding this State doth so greatly facilitate, that it is deservedly called the School of Virtue, as I have showed before: But I speak of those, that in the very first conception, as I may call it, of a Religious Vocation, are infused into our souls together with the vocation itself, and so inwardly linked to the State of Religion, that whosoever admitteth of the State, must necessarily also receive those virtues with it. Let us therefore search-out what virtues, and how many, this State requireth, as necessarily belonging unto it; for as many as are necessary, certainly it bringeth with it.  
3. And as a house, that is built of many parts, hath some of them, that lie open to the view of every body, as the forefront, the windows, the porches, and the like; and some again that are hidden, at the timber, and ioyces, and iron-worke, and chiefly the foundation: And in the body of every living creature compounded of many members, some appear outwardly, as the head, the legs, and thighs, and such like; some lie inward, as the hart, the brain, the bones, & sinews, which also are more necessary, than many of the outward parts: So in Religion, the three Vows of Poverty, Chastity, and Obedience lie open to the view of every body; others are more secret▪ yet withal so necessary, even for the due maintenance of those three Vows, and of the State itself, that without them, all falls to the ground.  

The admitablenes of the three Vows of Religion.  4. And yet if there were nothing in Religion but the practice of the three Vows, we could not imagine a thing more beautiful. For what is Povertie, but so noble a disposition of mind, that it maketh no more account of heaps of gold and silver, and of the revenues and kingdoms of the world, then of a little chaffe? yea it doth not only neglect them, as things of no value, but doth avoid them, as burdensome. A great Virtue; and a gr●at gift of God. 
Povertie.  And if we cast our eye upon so many other men in this world, that do so highly esteem and admire, and so earnestly hunt after these earthly things, we cannot choose but see the greatness of it.  
5. What is Chastity? 
Chastity.  A mind strengthened and hardened against all manner of pleasures of the flesh; against those pleasures which do so domineer over the nature of mankind. How rare therefore and how glorious a thing is it, to oppose oneself against them, and withstand them so constantly, and with so great a courage? The very rareness of this virtue doth make it the more glorious; for we see that the greatest part of all the world is lead away captive with desire of these pleasures.  
6. Finally, what a noble disposition of mind is Obedience? 
Obedience.  importing a denial of ourselves, and a renouncing of our freedom, which naturally we desire so much in all things, & in all the passages of our life; so that certainly, as we cannot overcome ourselves in a greater matter, so there cannot be a more noble, or more glorious victory. And consequently, as I said before, if there were no other virtue in Religion but these three, which are in every body's eye, the beautiful aspect thereof could not but breed great admiration and love in the beholders.  
7. But, as I touched even now, so fair a building of Virtue could not long stand, if it had not other virtues to uphold it, whereof some go before, as preparatives; some always accompany it. And to begin with the three Theological virtues (which are so called because their object is God) it is evident, not only that a Religious state cannot be without Faith, but it cannot be without singular and very excellent Faith. 
Faith.  For every Religious man doth forsake that, which he hath in his hands and before his eyes, for things which he doth not see; he leaveth the present for the future, and, which is more, for that which is not to come but after so long a distance of time, relying upon the sole promise and word of God; which no man would do, were he not fully persuaded, that the future is much more assured, then that which is present, which is the greatest act of Faith that a man can have.  
8. The like we may say of Hope, 
Hope.  which consisteth in two points: First and principally in hoping the glory of Heaven; which, though it be still to come, Religion doth give us so good pledges of, as if we were actually in possession of it; and in regard thereof, as I said of Faith, we forgo whatsoever we had in our hands; Secondly Hope extendeth itself to the necessary helps of this present life; which part thereof, where is it more practised then in Religion? Religious people depriving themselves of all things, which they may have need of, and bringing themselves to a most perfect nakedness, upon the confidence which they have in God. So that in my opinion there cannot be a greater hope and confidence in the Pilgrimage of this world, than this, which Religious people have; because it extendeth itself not only to some one kind of thing, or to many things of small consequence, but concerneth absolutely all, and our very life, with which we put God wholly in trust. Charity is written in the very bowels of Religion, 
Charity.  and as it were in the Essence of it, and hath three branches: The one extending itself towards God; the other towards those of the same Institute; the third towards all other men. Towards God, because doubtless it is the sole Love of God, which driveth a Soul upon such a strict course of life, and the force or flame thereof must needs be excessive great, to be able to thrust out so absolutely, as it doth, all other love of our carnal brethren, our parents and kinsfolk, of riches, and all other worldly commodities, and finally the love of ourselves. For it were not possible for a man to forsake all these things for God, if he loved not God much more than any of them. And if the beginnings of this love be so great, and the first colours, as I may call them, so lively and beautiful; what will be the continual increase thereof, to which it must needs rise in time, by the daily functions of Religion, by prayer, meditation, and other virtuous exercises; the end of them all being to increase in the love of God.  
9 Now whereas the streams of love and good will towards our neighbour are derived from this fountain of the love of God, they fall first upon them, 
The love towards those of the same Institute. Arist. 1. Lib. c.  whom God hath linked unto us by profession of the same Institute and course of life; who also, by reason of this nearnes, have been always wont to call Brothers among themselves. And this love is wholly of Charity. For, as Aristotle discourseth, every society of men, being necessarily grounded upon communication, in one kind or other, as the company of seafaring men, upon shipping; a company of soldiers, upon military actions; a fellowship of Students, upon the doctrine of their Master; a company of Merchants, 
The excellency of the ground thereof.  upon money; such as the thing is, whereupon they agree, such is their followship or society: Let us therefore see, what is the ground, whereupon Religious people agree, and what bond tieth them together. For certainly it is not nearnes in blood; because oftimes they are mere strangers one to another; neither is it any civil contract or bargain; in brief, if we reckon up all, that can be reckoned, we shall find that they have no other ground of their association, but this supernatural love, which is Charity. Charity bread it; Charity upholds it; without Charity it instantly faileth. And, as a little before I said of the love of God, so this fraternal Charity having so noble a ground, and, as I may call it, so honourable a descent, it hath many things in like manner consequent unto it, and greatly advancing it. And first, the likeness, which they have among themselves; which in all things is a great increaser of love, and among Religious people of the same Rule and Institute is so great, that greater can hardly be in this world; for all their intentions, practices, rites, and ceremonies, & their very outward Habit and behaviour are alike; Virtue itself, which a man cannot but love in his enemy, their daily conversation one: with another, continual cohabitation, finally the services and charitable offices one towards another, all proceeding of love, must needs add oil to this burning flame of love, and inflame it more and more.  
10. The third branch of Charity reacheth to all men. For excepting some few Institutes, which attend wholly to Contemplation (who yet by prayer and good desires help towards the salvation of others in no small measure) all the rest are so wholly at the service of their neighbour, that all their thoughts and endeavours seem to bend that way. And the employments of every Religious family give sufficient testimony, what their affection is in this kind. For not only when they appear in public to preach, or teach, or exhort, but when in private they give themselves to study, when they labour and watch, or perform any other exercise of religion, all of it is directed not only to their own salvation, but for the better helping & assisting of others to get Heaven. So that Religious people, as S. Paul said of himself, have made themselves servants of all men, 
1. Co●. 9. 1●.  taking their cause so to hart, that next to their own salvation, they busy themselves wholly upon their neighbour, either actually serving them in some thing or other, or preparing that which may conduce to their good: finally as oft as they are called, they are as ready to attend upon them, as any servant can be at his master's beck. All which shows, that Charity is intrinsical to a Religious vocation, and, as it were, a kind of glue, to bind souls together among themselves, and with God; which if it fail, Religious Orders themselves must needs fall asunder, because they have no other stay or hold.  
11. It followeth that we speak of Moral virtues; among which the first &, as it were, the light of the rest, is Prudence, 
Prudence.  so coupled with Religion, that without it we cannot understand, what Religion meaneth. S. Augustin defineth Prudence to be the knowledge of what we are to desire, 
S. Aug. lib. 83 9 61.  and what we are to fly. And where is this knowledge more abundant, then in Religion? S. Thomas delivereth a doctrine which is very true, 
S Tho●. 2. q. 47 a. 1●. & a. 13.  to wit, that Prudence consisteth not only in the Understanding or Reason, but dependeth very much of a wel-ordered will, and consequently is obscured and lost rather by disordered affections, then by forgetfulness or oblivion. Whereupon it followeth also further (as the same holy Doctor teache●h) that a sinner cannot have perfect Prudence: for perfect Prudence is that, which considering the true End of man, doth apply to the attaining ●f that End, upright advise, upright judgement, and an upright command; which be the three acts of this virtue. Now where is the true End of man better considered of, and better weighed, then in Religion, where we direct ourselves wholly to God, for whom we were created; and put ourselves so entirely under his dominion and power, that we do nothing for any creature, not so much as for ourselves? Religion moreover showeth us, how to deserve the grace of God, how to preserve it, and prevent and avoid the deceits of the Devil, what we ought to do or shun in all the particulars of our life. These are the acts of true wisdom; this is the Prudence, which is both commendable, and necessary; not as commonly people take it, to know how to grow rich, or to get preferment, w●ich is rather craft▪ then Prudence. For failing of the knowledge or pursuit of the true end of man, and seeking some particular end of this or that business▪ or aiming of some thing which is naught, it followeth either to be imperfect, if it stay in the first; or falsely styled Prudence, if it degenerate to the latter.  
12. justice is yet more apparently coupled with Religion: For it is not only far from doing any body any wrong (for though there were nothing else, 
justice..  the state itself barreth all Religious people from all occasions of fraud & deceit) but the office of justice being to give every one his own, and chiefly to God, that which belongs unto him, Religion beats wholly upon this point. All things, that be in the world, belong to God; ourselves, and all that we have. Whosoever therefore reserveth any thing to himself, either of his own person or any thing belonging unto him, wrongs God, and certainly deals more unjustly with him, then if he should take another man's goods from him: Now Religion laboureth nothing more than to deliver up to God, first all things which are without us; secondly, the things which are within us; and lastly ourselves; by this means compendiously complying with all the duties of most perfect justice..  

Temperance.  13. As for Temperance, who can doubt but that Religion is the proper seat of it? For, as Aristotle delivereth, the office of Temperance is, to bridle the pleasures of the body, 
Arist. 3. Eth●c 10.  chiefly those that belong to the sense of Touching; of which there be two kinds: some serve towards the sustenance of the body, by eating and drinking; some for the use of generation. The first, Religion confineth within the bounds of necessity, Poverty (the mother of frugality, and sobriety) helping thereunto: The second belonging to generation (the desires whereof are more violent and intemperate) it doth wholly cut of and shun, as a body would shun the plague. The greatest commendation, which Aristotle and the rest of the Philosophers gave Temperance, was to keep a mean in these pleasures, and durst not press Nature any further. How far greater commendation therefore doth Religion deserve, which doth not only temper these pleasures, but utterly abolish them, and banish them out of sight and thought?  

Fortitude.  14. Some body perhaps will think, that Fortitude hath nothing to do in Religion, because there is no occasion of going into the field, nor any use of weapons, nor any thing to be done that requireth strength of arms: which fancy if we yield unto, we may as well grant that a Bull, or an Elephant, is to have the pre-eminence of strength and fortitude above all men. But the nature of Fortitude is far other; and, if we believe S. Gregory, it is to be measured by the disposition of our mind. 
S Greg. 7. 〈◊〉. 8.  The Fortitude, saith ●e, or strength of the just, is to subdue their flesh, to contradict their own will, to quench the delights of this present life, to embrace that which is hard in the world, for the rewards eternal, to contemn the smiling countenance of prosperity, to overcome in their hearts the fear of adversity. Which words of S. Gregory, what do they decipher unto us, but the duty of a Religious life? so that we must of force confess, that true Fortitude is chiefly among them. For if we account them valiant, that fight stoutly against other men; we have much more reason, to yield this commendation to Religious people, who in the continual war, which they wage against this world, overcome enemies far more strong in nature than they, and far more in number.  
15. Besides these Moral virtues, which are the principal, there be others as it were branches of them; 
Patience  as Patience, a virtue so noble and withal so necessary, that Religion meeting with so many things as it doth, which are very harsh to Sense, it cannot long endure without it. It must therefore necessarily have Patience; and the daily occasions of practice of it, do much strengthen and increase it. 
S. Ambros. Ep●st▪ 2●  To which purpose S. Ambrose speaking in commendation of S. Eusebius Bishop of Vercels, hath these words: This Patience did first fasten in S. Eusebius by Monastical conversation, and he grew able to endure any kind of labour and pains, by custom of more strict observance.  

Liberality  16. But every body will perhaps easily find out, that Religion must have Patience; but make a question, whether there be any place for Liberality; because Religious people reserve nothing that they can bestow upon others; 
 and yet truly considered, Religion is not without this happiness. For, as Aristotle saith, Liberality, as other virtues, is to be measured by the disposition of a man's mind: Whosoever is so disposed in mind, that he contemns all worldly wealth, and is ready, if he had it, to bestow it in laudable uses, is to be accounted truly liberal; so that, according to the opinion of the same Philosopher, poor men may also be liberal; and consequently Religious people are so far from wanting this virtue, as they are rather to be esteemed more liberal, than any body else. For who can more from their hart contemn riches than they, that not only do not seek after them or desire them, but are ready to refuse whole mountains of gold, if they were offered? Besides that, they have already acted all that magnificence and worth, which can be in bestowing the goods of this world, when they forsook all, together with the world; specially if it fell in their way to do also that, which S. Basil adviseth, 
S Basil reg su●. c. 9  and S. Francis put in practice, and (which is the principal) that which our Saviour commanded, to wit, if they distributed that, which they had, wholly in relief of the poor. For they that lavish their substance in following their pleasures, 
Matth. 19  or spend it in stately buildings, or bury it in orchards and gardens, are not, 
Arist 4. E●h. c. 1.  even in Aristotle's judgement, to be accounted liberal. Religion therefore wanteth no part in Liberality, but hath it to the full, as a special ornament among other graces.  
17. But neither these, 
Humility.  nor any other virtue doth seem so natural to Religion, as Humility For first, what is Religion but an absolute renunciation of all wordly honour? which renunciation is an act of Humility. Secondly, the whole practice of Religion consisteth in humbling ourselves as much as possibly we can, and in endeavouring to hide ourselves from being spoken or thought of, and to be rather subject to every body, then to go be●ore any one; finally nothing is more ordinary, nothing more laboured for in Religion, then to be the least and lowest of all men. And consequently the commandment of our Saviour (Sat down in the lowest place) is nowhere more exactly fulfilled. 
〈◊〉. 14.10.  The lowest place is, to lay ourselves under every one's ●eete, to deprive ourselves of our own will, and of all power of doing any thing of ourselves; for no man can descend lower, than he that hath left himself nothing. We sit down, that is, we take up our rest, in this lowest place; because the Humility of Religion, is not one act or two, such as some Secular people stoop-unto sometimes, but it comprehendeth our whole life, & is intrinsically settled in the State itself, which we are bound to stick to, all the days thereof. And besides this humility, which the state itself doth bring with it, the daily practice of humble offices is so annexed thereunto, that we see people, that are nobly borne, and brought up, not only honourably, but deliciously, & attended-on before, with much state, 
S. Hierome Epist. 2●.  perform hourly & continually, the servile offices, which S. Hierome so much commendeth in Paula & Euslochi●m, two noble Ladies, to wit, to set up lights, make fires, sweep the house, shell beans and pease, put herbs into the pot when it boileth, cover the table, serve beer, dresse-out the meat, run hither and thither: which are all acts of Humility, and partly show us what Humility the State doth breed in us, partly increase it daily more and more.  
18. And this shall suffice, for as much as concerneth Virtue. The like may be said of the gifts of the holy-ghost. 
Wisdom.  For where is more perfect Wisdom t●en in Religion, where that light doth shine, which teacheth us to value every thing according to the true worth of it? that is, to make great account of Divine and heavenly things, and to set lightly by earthly things: whereupon S. Augustin hath this saying: 
S. Aug. in 〈◊〉  The Prophet saith: The beginning of wisdom is the ●c●re of our Lord. And what is the beginning of wisdom, but to renounce the world? 
 because to be worldly wise, is foolishness. Where is that Understanding more quick, which diving into the depth of every thing, discovereth clearly from whence they have their beginning, by whom they were created, what beauty is in them, what benefit they bring unto us, and how the Author of them is made known by them?  

Knowledge.  19 Knowledge (as the tree in the midst of Paradise, by which we might have discerned good from evil) flourisheth also in this place; neither are we here forbidden to touch it, 
 as than we were, but rather we are bid to make use of it. The same we may say of Counsel, and Forttitude; whereof the one armeth a soul against the vice of headlong rashness, that it may neither err nor fall; the other strengtheneth it against adversity, that it may rejoice and triumph in the midst of it.  

〈◊〉.  20. 〈◊〉 softeneth the hardness of our hart, and melts it with love, of God and our Neighbour, and the fear of God shutteth up the rank, that no man may confide in himself, 
〈◊〉 of God.  or in his own strength, but as the Wiseman admonisheth, be 〈…〉: which wholesome fear is proper and intrintsecal to Religion. 
Prou. ●8. 14.  For the only cause (at least a chief motive) why people undertake this profitable flight, from the pleasures of the world, to the sweet yoke of Christ, is, because perceaving the dangers of the world, and the malice of the Devil, and their own weakness, to be so great, they can think of no better refuge, then to shelter themselves in Religion (as little chickens, when the kite hovers over them) under the wings of our Lord, and there to remain, ●d iniquity pass away, and the misery of this life, the whole length whereof is deservedly called by holy job, a warfare upon earth.  

 21. Wherefore to draw to a conclusion of this point, seeing there is such plenty of rare virtues in a Religious course, what can we liken it unto better, then to a Crown or diadem of gold set with pearl and precious stones of all forts? So that upon whomesoever the Crown is bestowed, all the gems and precious stones must necessarily be bestowed upon him; because they are set fast in it; for in like manner, whomesoever God doth inspire to take a Religious course, at the selfsame time, and by the selfsame act, he conferreth upon him all the blessings and gifts, which I have rehearsed, and that great heap of heavenly wealth and treasure is, at it were, at the selfsame instant put into his bosom. And as, when a man is borne into this world, all things, which are necessary to the constitution of a man, are consequently bestowed upon him, to wit, the body of a man and the members thereof, and the soul of a man with the properties belonging unto it; because otherwise he should not be a man: though this body is at first little, and the selfsame in time and by the continual nourishment, which we take, grows bigger and bigger; and our soul, which is at first in a man not unpolished, must be perfected by 〈…〉 & industry: So when God, who commandeth light to shine in darkness, doth ●●li●hten a ma●'s hart, and drawing him out of the power of death, makes him wor 〈…〉 the Saints on light, he doth necessarily also give him all the virtues, which are necessarily required for the accomplishing of this course, 
 as Poverty, Faith, Humility, Obedience, and the rest, which I have already mentioned; some expressly and directly, others at least involuedly, giving him a desire and affection to others some, with a full deliberation, and purpose to purchase them: though all these virtues are afterwards to be conserved, increased, and put into a better forwardness, by the grace of God and man's own endeavour concurring together. Which doth evidently discover the greatness of this heavenly benefit. For if all these virtues were to be purchased by our own labour and industry, to what an exigent should we be brought? How much toil and sweat of our brows would every one of them cost us, they being so many in number, and so hard to compass? But now being all included in a Religious state of life, God, that gives the state, gives the virtues also; and whosoever takes the State upon him, must necessarily receive them together with it.   

How great the perfection of a Religious State is. CHAP. X.  
SUPPOSING this great concourse of Virtues, whereof a Religious state is compacted, as a body of many members, (as I have showed) it will not be hard to conjecture, or rather it is apparent of itself, how great the perfection of this manner of life is. For Virtue being the only perfection of a nature, that is endued with reason, the institute or course of life, wherein all virtues concur in so eminent a degree, must needs be most perfect, most honourable, and most glorious, for a reasonable man to live in. And this is that, which at this present we will take into our consideration; chiefly recording the sentences of holy Fathers concerning this point, least following our own discourse, we may be thought to flatter ourselves, and praise our own trade.  
2. S. Dionyse (one of the ancient Writers in the Catholic Church, 
S. Dion. Ecc. Hier. c. 5.  and of greatest authority, next to the holy Scriptures) called the degree and Order of a Bishop, a Perfecting degree, because it is ordained for the perfecting of others; and the state of Monks (whereof he delivereth many great commendations) he calleth a state of such as are perfect. 
Caiet. 1 2. q. 189. a. 3, S. Basil. de Iust. monach. ser. 1.  Which our Divines declaring in other terms, say, that the State of Monks aimeth at their own perfection, the State of a Bishop at the perfecting of others. S. Basil in his Sermons of the Institution of a Monk, hath this discourse: He that renounced the world, must make account, and always bear in mind, that he hath stepped a degree beyond the bounds of humane nature, and betaken himself to an Institute far different from the course of the body, and consequently undertaken to imitate the conversation of Angels: For it is proper to the nature of Angels to be free from earthly ties, and having their eyes continually fixed upon the face of GOD, not to be drawn to contemplate any other beauty; This is S. Basil's judgement of this course of life, 
Id. Ser. ●▪  which elsewhere he calleth a Sublime and excellent manner of living.  

S. Hiero. Ep. 100L.  3. S. H●erome in his Epistle to Hedibia speaketh thus: Wilt thou be perfect, and stand in the highest rank of promotion? Do that, which the Apostles did; Sel what thou hast, and give it to the poor, and follow thy Saviour; attend upon the sole naked Cross with sincere virtue. And in another of his Epistles to Demetrius: 
Id. Ep. 8.  It is the height of an Apostolical life and perfect Virtue, to sell all and deal it among the poor; and thus lightened and disburdened, to fly up to heaven with Christ; though in this, every age and every person is left to his free will and choice. He saith: 
Id. Ep. 34.  If thou wilt be perfect; I do not force you, I do not command you; I propose the prize, I show the rewards; it is yours to choose, whether you will be crowned in the lists and combat. And yet more plainly and copiously writing to julianus: This I exhort thee unto, if thou wilt be perfect; if thou aim at the height of Apostolical dignity; if taking thy Cross thou wilt follow Christ; if laying hand on the plough, thou look not back; if placed in a high place at the feast, thou contemn thy old clothes; and let go the cloak of this world, to escape the Egyptian Lady. For Elias making haste to the heavenly kingdoms, cannot go up with his cloak, but letteth his unclean garment fall to the world, that is unclean. Thou wilt say: This is for men of Apostolical dignity, and such as will be perfect. Thou that art first in the world, why shouldst not thou be first in the household of Christ? And a little after: If thou give thyself to God, and perfect in Apostolical virtue begin to follow our Saviour, than thou wilt perceive, where thou wert, and how in the army of Christ thou holdest the lowest place. S. Hierome styleth the place, in which julianus then was when he wrote this Epistle to him, the lowest place, because he was still in the world, a man not evil and vicious, but a good man, and among secular people, rare for his virtue and piety, leading a single life, and being one, who (as S. Hierome writeth of him) maintained whole companies of Monks, upon the large possessions, which God had given him: And yet he doth not doubt to rank this man, that was so rich in good works, 
S. August. lib the 8. Virg. c. ●1.  with the last in the army of Christ.  
4. S. Augustin speaketh to the same effect in many places, but chiefly in the Book, which he wrote of holy Virginity, where he saith thus: When the professors of perpetual Continency, comparing themselves with married people, shall find, that (according to holy Scripture) they that martie are far inferior to themselves, both in the labour and in the hire belonging to it; in their desire, and in the reward; let them instantly call to mind that, 
Eccl. 3 20  which is written: The greater thou art, humble thyself the more in all things.  

Id. 89.  5. There is also an excellent Epistle of his extant, where he enlargeth himself very much in commendation of this kind of life; and among other things he saith, that to leave all, is a noble resolution; a more excellent perfection, than the only keeping the Commandments of God; finally that they, who entertain this Counsel of Perfection, to sell all, and distribute it among the poor, to the end that easing their shoulders of the burden of this world, they may be the freer to take up the sweet yoke of our Saviour Christ upon them, do it out of a kind of generosity of a noble Spirit; and they that arrive not to this perfection, are the more infirm, and not thought fit for so glorious an enterprise; though, if they keep the Commandments, and use their wealth as if they had it not, they may be saved.  
6. S. Gregory particularly upon those words of holy job: 
job. 7 16. S. Greg. 8. moral. c. 15.  I have despaired, now I will no longer live, hath this excellent saying: There be some just men, that aim at heavenly things; yet so, as not to break with the hopes, which they have in their earthly substance; they reserve the inheritance, which God hath given them, to supply their necessities; they retain the temporal honours and preferments which do befall them; they covet not that which belongs to others; they use their own within compass of justice and equity. There be other just men, that buckling themselves to the attaining of the height of Perfection, while they inwardly aim at the highest, forsake all things which are without; they bereave themselves of the things they did possess; they deprive themselves of the glory of worldly preferments; they refuse the comfort of all outward things; and the nearer they approach in their mind to the inward joys, the more absolutely do they kill within themselves the life of corporal delight. For to them S. Paul addresseth his words when he saith: 
Col. 3.3.  You are dead, and your life is hidden with Christ in God. And Truth itself in his own words admonisheth us, saying: 
Luc. 9.32. Luc. 14.33.  If any will come after me, let him deny himself. And again: Unless a man renounce all that he doth possess, he cannot be my disciple.  
7. Origen (an Author much esteemed for his learning and antiquity) speaketh thus: 
Origen. Hom. 11. in Levit.  If a man have vowed himself to God; if he entangle not himself in secular businesses, to the end to please him to whom he hath engaged himself; if he be severed and parted from the rest that live carnally, and are tied to worldly affairs; not seeking the things which are upon earth but those which are in heaven; such a man is deservedly called holy. For while a man remaineth in worldly company, rolling up and down in the multitude of unquiet people, not attending to God alone, nor severed from the vulgar; 
Levit 20.25. 2. Pet 1.16  he cannot be holy. Thou therefore that hearest these things when the law of God is read, to whom the Word of God himself doth speak, saying: Be holy, because I, your Lord God, am holy: understand with discretion what is said, that thou mayst be blessed, when thou hast performed it. This is that which is said unto thee: Depart not only from every other man, but even from thy brother, that walketh unquietly; sever thyself from earthly dealings, from the concupiscence of the world; vow thyself to God, as the first-fallen calf; be holy and layd-aside for the use of the Priests only, given over to their use, as the first-begotten of every living creature; sever & set thyself apart, as a holy viol-glasse, as holy censers to be used only in the Temple; and attending to the service of God, be holy and severed within the temple of God, as the holy Vestments of the high Priest. Finally the verdict of S. Bernard must not be forgotten, 
S Bernard de pr●t. & discip.  when speaking in commendation of a Religious State, he gives it a singular pre-eminence of a Spiritual life (for so he speaketh) excelling all other kinds of humane conversation; and making the professors and lovers of it like Angels, and far unlike to men; and reformeth in man the image of God, conforming us to Christ.  
8. Moreover we may understand the perfection of a Religious vocation▪ by that the ancient Fathers do usually style it, 
Religion 〈◊〉 Apostolical life.  an Apostolical life and calling; which is to place it in the very top of all Sanctity. For no man can doubt, but that the Apostles did excel in all Euangelical perfection, as being Christ's own disciples, and Masters of the whole world, and, as S. Paul speaketh, 
Rom. 8.23.  had the first fruits of Spirit, so abundantly, as the day of Pentecost doth witness. 
S. Bernard de 4. deb.  Whereupon S. Bernard in a certain Sermon speaketh thus to his Brethren: What is it thanks be to him, by whose grace all this is done) what is it, that your life doth resemble the life of the Apostles? they forsook all; and assembled together in the School of Christ, in his presence, drew waters in joy of the fountain of our Saviour, drinking of the fountain of life at the fountain itself. Blessed are their eyes that beheld it. Have not you also done somewhat the like, not in his presence, but in his absence; not at the word of his mouth, but upon the word of his messengers? Maintain this your prerogative, which they upon sight and word of mouth, you by hearing and by message, have believed. Behold, how he compareth a Religious State with that worthy act of the Apostles, and in a manner doth prefer it before them, in regard that, 
Io. 20.29.  as our Saviour said, they are more blessed, that have not seen, and have believed.  

S. Bernard s●r. de al●●. & Ba●●●. Cord●●. Religion compared with the Prophets, Apostles, and Angels.  9 In an other place he doth yet more fully and more plainly compare this kind of life, not only with the Apostles, but with the Prophets, and the very Angels. These are his words: You see, my brethren, what spirit you have received; the spirit, which is of God, that you may know the things which God hath given you. We have heard the degree of excellency, wherein the Apostles, and the Prophets, and the Angels are seated, and I make account we cannot aim at any higher thing. Verily me thinks, I find something of each of them in you, and something that is excellent. For who will not be bold to say, that this single life of yours, is a life celestial and Angelical? or that in the Resurrection, all the Elect shall be as you now are, as the Angels of God in heaven, wholly forbearing marriage? Preserve, my Brethren, this precious jewel, preserve that sanctity of life, which resembleth you to the Saints, and maketh you of the household of God; 
Sap 6 ●0.  holy Scripture saying, that Incorruption maketh a man near to God. You are that which you are, not by your own desert, but by the grace of God, in regard of your chastity and sanctimony, Angels upon earth, or rather Citizens of Heaven, but yet a while upon earth pilgrims. What shall we say of the gift of Prophecy? Truly it is a rare kind of prophesying, 
A rare kind of Prophecy. 2. Cor. 4. ●8. Col ●. Plul. ●. 13  that which I see you given unto, and an excellent study to which I see you applied. What is that? that which the Apostle speaketh of, not to consider the things which are seen, but which are not seen. This certainly is to prophesy; To walk in spirit; to live according to faith; to seek the things which are about, not which are upon earth; to forget the things which are behind; to stretch to those which are before us, is a great part of Prophecy. For how is our conversation in heaven, but by the spirit of Prophecy? For so the Prophet's of-old were, as if they were not, among the men of their time; but by spirit and Prophetical commotion, transcending the days they lived in, they did rejoice to see the day of our Lord; they saw it and were glad in it. Let us hear what profession the Apostles were of: Behold, we have left all, and have followed thee. 
Matth. 19●  If it be lawful to glory, we have glory; but if we be wise, we will have care, that we have it with God. For not our mighty hand, but our Lord hath done all these things. He that is powerful hath done great things to us, so that our soul may worthily magnify our Lord. For it is by his great gift, that in so great measure we follow that great course and purpose, in which those great Apostles did glory. Thus doth S. Bernard discourse in commendation of a Religious state, paralleling it in many things with those three degrees of Perfection. Let us see how in some things he doth prefer it, which is a far greater commendation. Perhaps, saith he, if I will glory also in this, I shall not be unwise; for I shall speak the truth: There be some here that have left more than a boat and nets. And what is it, that the Apostles left all indeed but to follow our Saviour, who was present with them? It is not for me to say what it is; we shall with more safety hear our Saviour himself saying: Because thou hast seen me, Thomas, thou hast believed; blessed are they that have not seen, and have believed. Perhaps also it is a more excellent kind of Prophecy, not to attend to any temporal thing, nor to things that with time do perish, but to those that are spiritual and Eternal. And the treasure of Chastity is more illustrious in a vessel of earth, and virtue in some sort more laudable in flesh that is frail and weak. When therefore we find in this body of ours an Angelical conversation, in our hart a Prophetical expectation, in both an Apostolical perfection, what a mass of grace is there? Thus spoke S. Bernard; and I know not what can be said more to the honour and commendation of a Religious Institute.  
10. But what do we stand heaping together the praises of men, when we have the verdict of Truth itself from God's own mouth? For of this State our Saviour spoke those words: If thou wilt be perfect, go and sell all that thou hast, and come follow me. 
Matth. 19.21.  Where it is to be considered what our Saviour said; and to whom. He spoke to a man that was not wicked and debauched, but honest and orderly; for he had kept the commandments of God all his life-time he had done no man no wrong; and our Saviour beholding him, did love him. Who would not have thought that this man was perfect, seeing he had been so careful and diligent in fulfilling the law of God? and yet our Saviour tells him: Thou wantest yet one thing; a thing so great and of so high a strain, that the man (though invited by our Saviour) had a horror to climb up this one degree and step. Let us see therefore in what this Perfection doth consist, which the man did want; If thou wilt be perfect, go and sell al. He therefore that selleth all, that is, he that forsaketh all and followeth the doctrine of Christ, is in a perfect state: he that hath not done this, though he have done all other things, wanteth yet one thing. Wherefore a Religious life is the highest Perfection, by confession not only of learned and holy men, but of our Saviour himself; and for as much as concerneth the perfection of our own souls, there is not a higher or more eminent State.  

Religion the chiefest of the Euangelical Counsels.  11. If we consider the nature itself of Religion, we shall discover more plainly the same Prerogative. For first, Religion is ranked among the Euangelical Counsels, and is one of the chief of them, or rather the chiefest and greatest among them. Which we may gather by the manner of our saviour's speech, when he wished the young man to this course, saying: If thou wilt. For as then it was proposed to that young man, so it is now proposed to every one under the same form: If they wil Now certainly a Counsel is far more excellent than a Precept, 
Precept and Counsel compared.  for many reasons. First in regard of the matter▪ The matter of a Precept is more easy, the matter of a Counsel more hard and difficult▪ The matter of a Precept is grounded upon the same grounds that Nature leads us to, the matter of a Counsel is above the strain of Nature; The matter of a Precept is always good, of a Counsel better; because a Counsel includeth the Precept, and addeth somewhat more above it. Moreover Precepts be common to all, to the high and to the low, to the wise and to the simple; Counsels are not for all; yea they are for those only, that will of their own accord admit them. Precepts oblige people even against their will; Counsels are free and voluntary, before a man hath willingly obliged himself unto them. Precepts, if they be kept, deserve a reward; if they be neglected, bring punishment upon us; Counsels, if they be not undertaken, bring no punishment at all upon us; if they be undertaken and kept, deserve a great reward.  

The actions of Religion above Nature.  12. Another thing, by which we may discover the perfection of a Religious State, is the excellency of the actions which flow from Religion; for they are not only above the strength of Nature, but do so far surpass the bounds thereof, as that they cannot be achieved but by an extraordinary abundant current of Grace. For to bridle our senses, to subject our flesh to Chastity, utterly to kill our own will, to forgo our freedom, to put our necks into a yoke of perpetual servitude, to embrace Poverty, to possess nothing, to do the basest offices in a house, to be ready at every beck of another man, and always wholly to depend of another's will in all things concerning us: These and many other things of the same nature, which are so inward to a Religious life that Religion cannot be without them, are no less repugnant to our corrupted nature bending wholly to self-love, than it is against the nature of a man's body, to fly in the air. For as the heaviness of our body doth hinder that we cannot fly; so the heaviness and corruption of our mind is opposite to all these things. What therefore is a Religious man but a perpetual Miracle upon earth, & so many Religious men, 
A Religious man a great miracle.  so many Miracles? whereof S. Bernard also speaketh in this manner: What greater miracle can there be, then for so many youths, so many young Gentlemen, so many others whom here I see to remain as it were in an open prison without irons, 
S. Bernard serm 1. de de●i●. Ecclesiae  held only by the fear of God, and to continue in so great affliction of Penance, beyond the force of man, beyond nature, contrary to their wont custom, and breeding? I verily think, that yourselves do see how many miracles we might quickly find," if we would search particularly into every man's passage out of Egypt, his journey in the desert; that is, his renouncing of the world, his entrance into the Monastery, and his conversation while he is there. What perfection therefore can be greater than the perfection of Religion, which is so miraculous?  
13. Where we may observe, 
Two kind● of Perfection.  that the Perfection of every thing is twofold. For there is a Perfection, without which a thing is not perfect in his own nature; as, if a man want body or soul; whereas if he have both these, he is said to be perfect, for as much as concerneth the nature of man. There is another Perfection, which gives a kind of grace to a thing; and if it want it, though in nature it be complete, it is still said to be imperfect; as, if a man have body and soul, but his body be crooked and deformed. In like manner the perfection of a Christian is twofold; one is as it were essential, and consisteth in the full observance of the Commandments; and this Perfection by itself alone, is but lame and imperfect; because it wanteth that grace and beauty, which the keeping of the Counsels may add unto it, as a degree of far higher perfection; a perfection which no man, doubtless, can choose but love and desire, 
Religion much to be desired.  if he do behold it. For goodness, and beauty, and order, is naturally so forcible, that we cannot but desire it, if we once cast the eyes of our mind or body upon it; though in small things there can be but small show of it. How forcible therefore must it needs be, when it appears in things that are rare and excellent? For as we do not only take pleasure in viewing a gardin (for example) that is neatly kept, and well setforth and furnished; or a house that is well built and commodious, and such other things of greater bulck; but in a flower, and an apple, and in any little thing that is curiously wrought, and hath any workmanship in it, and finally in whatsoever we find any expression of beauty and handsomeness, and in every one of these things, according to the several kinds and natures of them: Much more contentment, doubtless, must we needs take in any thing, the more complete and admirable the perfection of the thing is. Wherefore seeing among all the things of this world, nothing can be better or of greater value, than one's Mind and Soul; the perfect ornament, and most complete perfection thereof must needs be the thing, which of all others is most beautiful and comely in itself, and most to be desired. For if a man, that beholds attentively the beauty of a body, be necessarily taken with the proportion that is betwixt one member and another, and with the convenient temper of the colour and complexion of it; the same temper, and proportion, and beauty being in the Mind far more excellent, shall it not draw a man to the like contentment and admiration? And if no man, in whose power it were to frame himself a body, would make it lame, imperfect, and deformed; what madness is it, to choose a soul, that is crooked and imperfect? In all other things, we desire the best, and the most complete. If we be to buy a horse, or to build a house, or to make a suit of clothes, or a pair of shoes, we should think ourselves fools, if of purpose we should choose the worst, when we might have better; and of things that are within us, we desire in all other things to be excellent; They that study, desire to be excellent in learning; they that practise their weapon, content themselves with no mean skill in it; and in every handiecraft, though in itself the trade be base and servile, yet every body desires to do it, after the best manner; because Perfection pleaseth in every thing, and every body doth aim at it, and labour for it. If therefore in these little things, perfection doth so much please us, the perfection of the mind must certainly in reason be far more pleasing, as being far more graceful and admirable, and specially the perfection, which virtue and good life doth work in us. Wherefore seeing there cannot be found a subject more noble than our mind, nor a more noble form than sanctity, and the compound of them both must consequently needs be the rarest and most Divine that can be: Religion, which containeth all this, must necessarily also be valued accordingly, and loved, and embraced, and sought for by all means possible.   

Of the dignity of a Religious State, in regard of the similitude, which it hath with God and with our Saviour. CHAP. XI.  
HITHERTO we have spoken of so much of the dignity of a Religious life, as comes by the Virtues and other extrinsical ornaments which are in it: Now we will consider what honour and excellency doth accrue upon it by the similitude, which it hath with Christ our Saviour, and with God; which doubtless is so great, as greater cannot be upon earth. And as for t●e similitude which it hath with our Saviour Christ, two things may be briefly considered, both of them in themselves apparent enough. First the likeness which is betwixt his manner of life, and a Religious course; secondly, the great honour and dignity, which this similitude doth bring with it.  

Religious people imitate our Saviour 〈◊〉 of 〈◊〉.  2. All Christians, as the Apostle telleth us, must imitate our Saviour; their profession & their very name doth require it of them: Religious people therefore do above all others most punctually and most exactly endeavour unto it, framing their several institutions, after the manner of life and conversation of our B. Saviour▪ as painters draw a picture after life. Their poverty, resembleth his poverty, who had not where to lean his head; Their chastity, his chastity, who was the brightness of the light Eternal; their obedience is drawn from the depth of his humility, who was obedient even unto death; finally whatsoever Religious people do, 
.  all their exercises, all their endeavours, are conformable to that pattern and example, which was showed the world in that mystical Hil, 
 which is the humane Nature of our Saviour, overtopping all men in virtue and dignity, far higher than the highest hill doth the rest of the earth. Whereupon S. Bernard saith, that men of good will, who out of a Christian resolution have either exchanged their riches with poverty, or, though they had none, have set them at naught as if they had had them, forsaking all for him, as he forsook all for their sakes, do follow wheresoever he goeth. Which only word (wheresoever he goeth) doth imply not only imitation, but a most perfect expression of him.  
3. This expression is most of all to be seen in the Cross of Christ; which Cassian doth lay before our eyes in lively colours, out of a Speech, which Penusius (a holy Abbot) made in his hearing, to a Novice, when he admitted him to a Monastical course. For, according as Cassian relateth, 
Cassian l 4. c. 32.  he said thus unto him; that the forsaking of the world, is as it were an image of the Cross, the whole life of a Religious man expressing the manner in which our Saviour hung upon it. For as he that is crucified, cannot stir his body as he list, neither on the one side, nor the other; 
A Religious man an image of Christ crucified.  so the will of a Religious man is fastened to the Cross, that is, to a thing that is continually painful and irksome to flesh and blood: And as he, that hangeth upon a Cross, doth neither mind that which is before his eyes, nor care for providing for to morrow, nor desireth lands nor possessions, but living in body, is dead to all things in though, and affection, and hath his mind wholly fixed upon that which shall befall him in another world; so a Religious man is not only dead to vice and concupiscence, but to this very natural world itself, and to all things in it, and his mind and body is wholly bend to that place, where every moment he hopeth to arrive; and consequently being absolutely dead to the world, and to all the actions and desires thereof, he liveth in him only, who was crucified for him.  
4. This similitude with Christ crucified will easily lead us to the understanding of the honour and dignity, 
The honour which he hath by it.  which a Religious man getteth by it. The Majesty of the Eternal God is so very great, and the dignity of his Person so infinite, that whatsoever he uniteth to himself, he raiseth it withal to an infinite degree of honour and worth, and giveth it part of his own beauty and glory, by the union, which it hath with himself, how mean soever the thing were before. For what can be more contemptible than flesh, which is but dirt and filth? and yet so soon as it was united to that Divine subsistence, that very dirt was not only worthy of all veneration, but deserved to be adored as a thing Divine. The Cross itself, which before was so infamous, and, as the Apostle speaketh, a curse, now since the Son of God hath touched it, is become so honourable, that Kings and Princes wear it for an ornament upon their heads. Which how due it is unto it, 
S Andrew.  S. Andrew felt in himself, when at his death he was not only not afraid of the Cross which was prepared for him, but having long-before desired it, went to it with joy and gave the reason in these words: Hail, Cross, dedicated in the body of Christ, and adorned with his members, as with so many precious jewels. And whosoever acknowledgeth and worshippeth Christ for God, must have the like reverend esteem not only of the Cross of Christ, but of poverty, and contempt, and obedience, whereby we subject ourselves to other men▪ and of all the parts and offices of Religious humility; for by the connexion, which they have with our Saviour, they received, as it were, a ray of his Divinity, which hath excessively graced and ennobled▪ and, 
S. Bernard vig. na●. Serm. 1.  as I may say, in a manner Deified them. Whereupon S. Bernard said excellently well: Because Povertie was not found in heaven, and abounded on earth, and yet the price of it was not known, the Son of God descended, to make it esteemed, 
Id. Serm. 4.  by the account which he made of it. And in another place: The swathing-clowts of our Saviour are more honourable, than any purple-garment; 
Povertie commanded.  and his manger more glorious than the golden Chaires-of-state; and his poverty more rich, than whatsoever wealth and worldly treasure. And yet more signally in one of his Sermons upon Christmas-day: Our Saviour, to whom all the gold and silver that is, doth belong, doth consecrate holy Poverty in his own body. 
Id in na●. domini. Serm. 4.  What can be said more to the commendation and honour of Poverty, and of an humble life, then that, by the union with God, it hath received a kind of sanctity and consecration? Which manner of speech I find also that S. Hierome useth in his epistle to Nepotianus telling us, 
S Hierom. Epist 2.  that now we have no reason to be drawn to love riches by example of the ancient Patriarcks among the jews, seeing our Saviour hath sanctified the poverty of his house. Faith therefore grounded in the example, which we have before our eyes, in our Saviour, aught in reason to move us to this esteem of it; specially seeing the same example of our Saviour not yet acted, 
Heb. 11.24.  but foreseen only afarre-of by the light of Prophecy, was so powerful with Moses, that when he might have been thought to have been of the bloud-Royal of Egypt, he chose rather, as the Apostle speaketh, to be afflicted with the people of God, esteeming the reproach of Christ greater riches, than the Egyptian treasures. If, I say, the knowledge of Christ was so forcible when he was as yet to come; ought not his example, in reason, be now much more powerful after his coming, 
Gal. 3.  when we behold him as it were painted and hanging before our eyes, 
S Leo serm. 2 de R●sur.  and having filled the world with so many, so clear, and so pregnant examples of all kind of Humility? For, as S. Leo saith very well, rich men ought not to contemn the humility of Christ, nor noble men be ashamed of it; for no earthly felicity can rise to that greatness, as to think scorn of that, which God in the shape of a slave did not think unworthy of himself.  
5. Thus doth the similitude with Christ our Saviour grace and honour a Religious State. But if descending to our Nothing, he could so exalt and ennoble us, what shall we think he doth when he raiseth us to the likeness of that, which he is in himself? For therefore did the lover of mankind stoop to the likeness of our weak state, that he might exalt us to the similitude of of his Divinity. 
No excellency greater than to be like to God.  Therefore we will consider further, how this course of life doth not only make us like to his humiliation, but to his Majesty; which if we can prove, what higher dignity can there be for a Religious state to stretch itself unto? For certainly the greatest excellency that can be thought on in heaven or upon earth, is to be like to God, which the Prince of Pride understanding, 
●say. 14.14.  and being ambitious of it, said, I will getup above the stars, and be l●ke the Highest; 
S Leo s●r 1. 〈…〉 10. men●.  and was not condemned for desiring it, but for desiring it disorderly, that is, not in that measure and way, which he ought. And so S. Leo saith: We find man created to the image of God, to the end he may imitate his Creator; and we are then in the dignity, which doth naturally belong unto us, when the face of the Divine goodness doth, as it were, in a lookingglass appear in us. And S. Gregory discoursing of those words of S. Paul, 
Act. 17.28.  we are of the progeny of God, saith thus: We are said to be of the progeny of God, not that we are borne of his nature, but because by his spirit he hath voluntarily begot us, and as it were created us again by adoption; and consequently the more a man is renewed to the likeness of God by imitation, and more lively expression of the image, which he hath received, the nearer doth he come to his native nobility.  
6. Therefore to be like to God is without exception the greatest dignity, 
Religious people like God.  which man can attain unto; let us then see how many and how efficacious means Religion hath to advance us to this likeness. First, it rooteth all vice out of our mind, and all turbulent passion; which two are the chiefest hindrances of the similitude we speak of. 
S. Basil ser. 1. de Inst. mon.  S. Basil doth reckon this a chief benefit of a Religious State; and in one of his Sermons discourseth thus of it: Man being created to the image of God, stained this his dignity most miserably, when he suffered his mind to stoop to sin and sinful desires. 
By quiet of mind.  But whereas it is natural to God, always to enjoy perfect peace and tranquillity of mind, never troubled with any sinister affection; whosoever bringeth himself to this quiet, doth doubtless restore the Image of God (defaced in him) to the beauty which he formerly had, and maketh himself like to God: And consequently a Religious course of life must needs be wonderfully effectual for this purpose, in regard of the Chastity and Abstinence, which it doth profess; not only cleansing us thereby from all filthy pleasure, but reforming our whole life also, and restraining our whole behaviour within certain limits, without which the integrity of a single life cannot be preserved.  
7. To which purpose also S. Gregory bringeth that saying of the Wiseman: 
Sap. 12.18.  Thou, 
S. Greg. 5. mor. 3●.  o Lord, judgest with tranquillity; and saith thus: We must specially note, that as often as we restrain the turbulent motions of our mind by the virtue of meekness, we endeavour to return to the likeness of our Creator. It being therefore all the employment in a manner, which Religion hath, to allay these passions, and to teach us how to compose them; it doth necessarily follow, that it leads us withal to the perfect similitude with God, of which we are speaking.  
8. And yet Religion worketh a man to a higher and more excellent degree of this similitude with God, directing him wholly to cutof his own will, that the sole will of God comes to have absolute pre-eminence in him in all things, 
And by conformity of wil  great and little; in so much that he desireth nothing, but what God will; nor refuseth any thing, but what God disliketh; and stands moreover so deeply obliged to God, that it is not lawful for him to desire any thing but what God will have; which is the most absolute similitude, which man can possibly have with God upon earth. 
S. Bernard ad Fraires de Mon●● Dei.  And of it S. Bernard speaketh in this manner: The unity of spirit, which a man, that hath his hart seated on high, hath with God, is the perfecton of a will that profiteth to God-ward, when a man doth not only desire what God will have, but is both so affected in mind, and so perfect in his affection, that he cannot desire any thing else, but that which God will have. For to desire that which God will have, is to be like to God; but moreover not to be able to desire but that which God will have, is to be that which God is; whose will and being are the same.  
9 This great perfection, which S. Bernard speaketh of, either cannot be gotten in this life, or if there be any means to get it, it is by the Vows of Religion; 
And by the 〈◊〉 ●f ou● Vows.  which do not only subject our will to God, but bind it unto him in bonds that cannot be broken. From which firmness of our Vows, we may gather another similitude betwixt us and God. For as nothing is more natural to God, then to be immutable, and subject to no kind of change or alteration; so the Vows of Religion give a man the like property, as much as man is capable of it. 
S Bernard 〈◊〉.  Which S. Bernard also doth insinuate when he saith: There is yet a nearer similitude with God by means of our will consisting in Virtue; when a Soul doth aim, as it were, to express the greatness of the Soweraigne Good, by the greatness of Virtue; and the unchangeablnes of his Eternity, by constant perseverance in that which is good. Those sacred bonds therefore of the Vows bring with them this firmness; which is a kind of expression of the Eternity of God, binding us even against our will, yet withal giving us strength and force to be willing. And we may well liken it to a ship, that rides at anchor, which may be wafted and tossed by the billows of the sea, but cannot be carried into the main, nor driven upon the rocks: so a Soul obliged to God (who in himself is so firm and immoveable) may lie floating upon the water, and sometimes be tossed, by reason of our natural infirmity, so long as we are in this world, specially the waves and gusts of temptation rushing against us; but the cables of our Vows do easily stay us; and though we be heaved-at, we give not place, but stick immoveably to God, to whom we have vowed ourselves.  

Two kinds of Excellency in God.  10. There is yet an other similitude with God, which is admirable. For whereas in God there be two kinds of Excellency; the one consisting in Holiness, the other in Power; men most commonly care not greatly to be like him in Sanctity, but do greatly affect to be like him in Power and authority, and dream of nothing else, but how they may get honour, 
Sanctity the way to honour.  preferment, and command. Wherein they commit two several errors: For if a body must needs fail of being like to God in one of these, we should rather seek to be like him in sanctity, in regard it is necessary to salvation, then in power, which is not necessary; secondly because there is not a more effectual means to be like him in power and honour, then if we be like him in sanctity: For as they are both necessarily conjoined in God, so whosoever doth imitate the excellency of his goodness, must necessarily be also like him in power. And this hath been the raising of a Religious State above all things created; for, as I have discoursed at large before, it is raised by despising and treading all things under foot; for they that love them, are slaves to them; they that contemn them are masters over them. 
S. Bernard ser. 21. in ca●●.  Which subject S. Bernard doth handle divinely in one of his Sermons upon the Canticles in these words: When thou beginnest to renew and reform thyself according to that rare and ancient similitude of the Eternal God (with whom there is no transmutation nor shadow of change and vicissitude) amidst the adverse and prosperous chances of changeable time, 
●●c. 1.17.  thou wilt retain a certain image of Eternity, to wit, an immoveable and inviolable evenness of a constant mind praising God at all times, and consequently claiming, as it were by right, a kind of state of perpetual unchangeableness, even in the midst of the doubtful events and undoubted defects of this tottering world. For as he is, so shalt thou be in this world; neither in adversity fearful, nor dissolute in prosperity. Thus, I say, this noble Creature made to the image and likeness of him that made him, doth manifestly receive again and recover the ancient degree of honour, which it had, esteeming it an unworthy thing, to be conformable to this present world, but endeavouring rather (according to the doctrine of S. Paul) to be reform in newness of his sense, 
Rom. 12. ●●  to that similitude, to which he knoweth he was created; and by this means after a strange manner turning the state of things, he compelleth this world, which was made for him, to conform itself to him; in regard that all things begin to cooperate unto him for his good, as acknowledging their Master, for whose service they were created, as it were, in his own natural likeness, having shaken-of the base shape which he had assumed. So that in my opinion, that, which the Only-begotten said of himself, may be also applied to all his brethren, to wit, that if he were exalted from the earth, he would draw all things to himself; 
Io. 12.32.  to them, I say, whom the Father hath foreknown and predestinated to be conformable to the image of his Son, 
Rom. 8.29.  that he may be the first-begotten in many brethren. And I, if I be exalted from the earth (I may boldly say it) will draw all things to myself: for I do not (my Brethren) rashly usurp his speech, whose likeness I put on. Thus far S. Bernard.  
11. Wherefore it is certain, that this is the greatest glory and honour which man can rise unto, to be in this manner like unto the Highest; for it placeth a Soul in that pitch of height, that it hath a kind of Sovereignty over all creatures, like a little God. But no man arriveth unto it, but he that (as S. Bernard speaketh) is exalted from the earth, that is, he that hath seated himself far above the earth and all earthly things, by contemning and abandoning them.   

Religion is a kind of Martyrdom. CHAP. XII.  
AMONG all the duties, which belong to a Christian, none is more excellent, none more commended, than Martyrdom. And the reason is, because both Charity, from which it proceedeth, is the highest of all virtues; and among the works of Charity, Martyrdom is the greatest work. The evil also, which we undergo by Martyrdom, is the greatest of evils, to wit, death; and the good, with which we part, is the most desired of all goods, to wit, life. And yet this being so great a work as it is, if we compare it with a Religious State, we shall find, that as in many things Martyrdom goeth beyond Religion, 
Religion compared with Martyrdom.  so in many things a Religious State ●ot● surpass Martyrdom; and be it never so great, Religion doth partake in great measure with it.  
2. Martyrdom excelleth, in regard it endureth far greater torments; yet the greater the torments are, they must needs be the shorter, and bring a man the sooner to his end. Religion therefore even in this doth, in a manner, excel Martyrdom; because, though the pains be not so sharp, they are of greater continuance, and last the longer time. Martyrdom is to be preferred in regard it hath the glory of laying down a man's life, which, as I said, is the greatest thing that one can pawn for another. Religion, though it have not this glory, it hath the continuance of a long and holy life, furnished with plenty of good works, advancing a man highly in the favour of God, & rewarding him with many degrees of glory in heaven; so that, if we aim at spiritual gains, which is the intent of our travels in the pilgrimage of this life, there is no doubt, but many years well and holily spent in Religion, according to the Rules and orders of that State, will amount to a greater mass & increase of reward, than one only act of Martyrdom, which ordinarily doth pass in a moment of time, can purchase us.  

Religion the safer way.  3. Moreover, whereas both these kinds of trafficking for the heavenly kingdom are doubtless very gainful, and bring a plentiful return to those that deal in them, Religion notwithstanding must needs be the safer way of trading. For in Martyrdom certainly the hazard is very great; and so we find that many, who at first seemed stout and courageous, fainted at last most shamefully, when they came to the push. In which kind we read of one of S. Pacomius his disciples, who having by importunity drawn a consent from S. Pacomius, that he might put himself into an occasion of Martyrdom, fell most miserably, and returning to his monastery, repaired by Religious discipline the damage, which he had suffered by over-greedie desire of that Crown. H●w pitifully doth S. Cyprian lament many, 
S Cyprian ser c●laps●●.  who in his time were overcome before the battle, overthrown before the encounter; who, so soon as Proclamation was read, voluntarily of themselves ran to the Marketplace, to deny Christ; and when the officers delayed them, because night gr●w on, urged still, that their wicked Protestation might be presently admitted? Religion on the other side is not subject to this danger, because it is more suitable to a man's disposition; and there be many things in it, which allay the harshness of the course, so that the hardness of it is not greatly felt. Martyrdom is not in our power: for neither aught we kill ourselves, nor provoke others to kill us; both because it were presumption to do so, and because, as S. Thomas argueth, we should provoke another to do evil, 
S. Thom. 2.2. q. 124. a. 1.  which is against Charity: so that the means of meriting by way of Martyrdom happens seldom, and is scarce or not at all to be had. Religion is at hand; we may this day, if we will, embrace it.  
4. Finally, 
Religion a kind of Martyrdom. S. Greg. ●om. 〈◊〉 in Emang.  Religion is a kind of Martyrdom; and if we consider the nature of Religion, together with the sayings of holy Fathers to this purpose, we shall not stick to yield it so much honour. For first S. Gregory writeth thus: There be two kinds of Martyrdom; the one in mind, the other both in mind and outward work. We may be Martyrs therefore, though we be not killed by the sword of another, that striketh us. To dye by the hand of the Persecutor, is Martyrdom in open deed. But to abide reproachful speeches, to love those that hate us, 
S August. ser. 150. d● temp.  is Martyrdom in secret thought. And S. Augustin to the same purpose writeth in this manner: Let us strive against the deadly allurements of sin, knowing that Christians cannot want daily Martyrdoms, even in these things. For if Christ be Chastity, Truth, and justice, he that layeth wait against these Virtues, is a persecutor; and he a Martyr, that is resolved to maintain them in himself, and defend them in others. So that in the opinion of S. Augustin, inward Martyrdom consisteth in this, that as in the Martyrdom of the flesh, when the persecutor endeavoureth to take Christ from us by taking away our faith, he is a Martyr that resisteth, to death; so when the devil, (who is our greatest and cruelest persecutor) laboureth to take the same Christ our Saviour from our hearts, by depriving us of other virtues, as of Chastity, Temperance, Humility, and the like; whosoever fights for our Saviour in this kind, and remaineth constant in the difficulties of this conflict, is also a Martyr; the one fight against the devil, as it were, in person; the other having a man for his adversary. In which respect Climacus calleth a Religious State, 
Climacus grad. 4. S. Hierome Epist. 27.  the warfare of a spiritual Martyrdom. And S. Hierome writeth thus upon the death of Paula: Not only the shedding of blood is to be accounted Martyrdom, but the unspotted behaviour of a devout mind, is a daily Martyrdom; The former Crown is made of roses and violets, this of lilies; whereupon it is written in the Canticles: 
Voluntary Poverty a kind of Martyrdom.  My beloved is white and ruddy, in peace and in war bestowing upon those, that overcome, rewards alike.  
5. There be other things also, which draw this commendation upon a Religious State; and, if we believe S. Bernard, Povertie is none of the least: 
S. Bernard ser. 1 de omnib. sanctis.  for thus he speaketh: What is the matter that one and the same promise is made to Martyrs, & to those that be poor, but that voluntary Poverty is in very deed a kind of Martyrdom? What is more admirable, or what Martyrdom can be more grievous, then to be hungry in the midst of dainty fare, to starve for cold in plenty of costly apparel, to be poor in the midst of riches, which the world affordeth, the Devil offereth, our greedy appetite desireth? Shall not he deservedly be crowned that fighteth in this manner, rejecting the World with his promises, scorning the Enemy with his temptations, and (which is far more glorious) triumphing over him, and crucifying all itching Concupiscence? Finally the Kingdom of Heaven is therefore promised both to Martyrs, and to them that be Poor: because it is purchased by Poverty, but by suffering Martyrdom for Christ, it is presently received without delay. 
S. Bernard ser. 30. in Can●.  And in another place, comparing the incommodities of Poverty and other corporal austerities with Martyrdom, he saith, that when our Saviour telleth us, that we must hate our life, it is to be understood, either by laying it down as a Martyr, or by punishing it, as those, that be penitent, do; And addeth moreover, that this kind of Martyrdom, in which by spirit we mortify the deeds of the Flesh, is not in show so terrible, but in continuance more troublesome than that, in which our body is killed. And again in another Sermon: There is a kind of Martyrdom and shedding of blood, in the daily affliction of our body. Where also he saith again, that it is a milder, 
S Bernard in o●i. Pasc. Id. in ser. Por.  but a longer kind of Martyrdom.  
6. We may say the same of Chastity; and S. Bernard among the several kinds of Martyrdom without blood, reckoneth Chastity preserved, specially in the time of youth. 
Chastity and Obedince a k●●d of Martyrdom.  The sacrifice of our own will, and the binding of it so to Rule and to the pleasure of other men, that it cannot wind itself as it listeth, is another Martyrdom; which Abbot Pamb● (a man of great authority and fame among the ancient Hermits) confirmeth in this manner: Four Monks coming once to him, all of them rare for some one virtue or other, one for vigorous fasting, another for poverty, the third for charity toward his neighbour, the fourth for that he had lived two and twenty years under Obedience, he sticked not to prefer this last before them all; because the rest had practised the virtues which they had, according to their own mind; but this last wholly casting-of his own will, had made himself a slave to the will of another man; and added further, that they that do so, are Martyrs, if they continue in that course to the end of their life. And S. Athanasiu● writeth of S. Antony, 
S. Athan. in Valerio S. Ao●.  that going to Alexandria with desire of suffering Martyrdom, and missing of his purpose, in regard that God had ordained otherwise, he returned back to his Monastery, to the daily Martyrdom of his Faith and Conscience, as S Athanasius speaketh.  

R●l●●●●n 〈…〉 of death.  7. But because Divines deliver, that without death there is no Martyrdom, we will show that Religion wanteth not this perfection of Martyrdom also. Death hereaveth us first of our wealth, our friends, and of all manner of things in this world: Religion doth the same; and so wholly, that we can no more enjoy them, then if we were dead indeed; where it is particularly to be considered that when we dye our bodily death, it is easy to bear the want of all things, because we go to a life, where we shall have no need of them▪ but ●eer where we have need of these things, and where the presence of them before our eyes doth continually move us to desire them, it is far more hard to deny 'em to ourselves. Secondly our body feeleth pain, if we be killed by our enemies; and who can deny but our mind hath his sorrows, and sorrows the more painful by how much the mind is more noble? For if it hath part with the body and the griefs thereof, because it is the form of the body; the grief, doubtless, which is within itself, must needs be more painful to it. By Martyrdom a man dies to his body; In Religion a man dies to himself. For (as I have showed before) a Religious man can no more do any thing of himself, or for himself, then if he were dead and buried, bereft both of body and soul. And what is it for a man to have his soul still in his body, if he can have no use of it for any ends of his own? For neither in Martyrdom is the soul killed, but passeth from this miserable world to a more happy life; life is not lost by it, but changed for a life that is far better and more pleasant; so that if we lay all these things together, confirmed by holy Fathers, we shall find not one Martyrdom alone, 
Many Martyrdoms in Religion.  but many Martyrdoms in one Religion: One in Poverty, another in Chastity, a third and greatest of all in the perpetual denial of our own will; another again in the affliction and subduing of our flesh; and finally in the perpetual conflict and combat, which we have with the crafty Serpent, who laboureth by all possible means to take Christ from our hart. This was the sense of Paphnutius a holy Abbot (not he of whom there is often mention in V●●is Patrum, 
Paphnutius.  but another of great sanctity and austerity of life.) This man in the reign of Diocletian the Emperor being apprehended by the Precedent of Egypt, whose name was Arianns, and threatened with racks, and Scorpions, and burning frying-pans, and such like tortures (which the Precedent caused to be brought before him) unless he would Sacrifice to the Gods, laughing at them said: Dost thou think, that thy torments are so terrible to me, that to avoid them I shall choose to deny the living God? No; but rather know, that the Rules of our Monasteries do contain many more grievous torments then these be; for we are continually tried in many painful exercises, but our Saviour doth strengthen us so that we are able to bear and overcome them all; wherefore he also will now strengthen me to overcome thy cruelty.  
7. S Bernard declared the selfsame point by a pleasant passage, 
S. Bernard▪  which was thus: Meeting one day, in the territory of Prince Theobald, a great throng of people leading a fellow to the gallows, that had been a notable robber by the highway-side, rushed in among them to the thief, and would needs have him from them, saying, he would hang him with his own hands. Prince Theobald being advertised of the arrival of the Saint, came running to him, and thinking that he knew not what the fellow was, began to repeat his enormous crimes, and to protest with great vehemency, that he deserved to dye. S. Bernard smiling answered thus: I know all this well enough; and therefore, because one death is not enough for his many offences, I will make him dye many deaths. And so taking of his irons he lead him to his Monastery, where becoming a Monk, and for thirty years together dying (as the Apostle speaketh) every day, 
1. Cor. 15.31▪  he punished himself with many deaths, in lieu of that one death, which he was to suffer by the hand of justice..   

Religious people are the Friends, and Children, and Spouses of God. CHAP. XIII.  

S. Bernard. Serm. de Ingrat.  SAINT Bernard in one of his Sermons to his brethren, discoursing of a Religious vocation, among other commendations thereof, to extol the greatness of this benefit, saith in this manner: He hath not done so to every nation, as to manifest not only his judgements unto them, but also his Counsels. But certainly with us he hath dealt magnifically, not only admitting us to be his servants, but choosing us to be his friends. He saith truly, and with very good ground, that God hath dealt magnifically with us; because the friendship of God, doth not only involve excessive profit, but exceeding great honour and dignity, according to that of the Psalm: 
Ps. 138.17.  Thy friends, o God, are greatly honoured, and their principality is greatly strengthened; where he calls them Princes, whom God hath exalted to his friendship.  
2. But to the end we may understand how far this dignity reacheth, it will not be amiss to consider the ground which Aristotle gives in this matter, 
Aristotle E●●. 6.  who in Moral things, as far as the light of Nature can carry a man, writes solidly. He therefore saith, that friendship consists in an equality between party and party, so that if there happen to be great inequality betwxit the parties that are friends, either by difference of their dispositions, or disparity of their fortunes and state of life, friendship must needs fail betwixt them; which is the reason, why we cannot (as he saith) have friendship neither with Kings nor with God. In that he saith, there must be some equality or likeness betwixt friends, 
How there may be friendship betwixt God and and man.  his opinion is not to be rejected; but he was mistaken in that he saw not how man might be like to God; and no wonder, because he knew nothing of the gift of God, which supplieth that in man, which is wanting in Nature. We have reason rather to give ear to our Saviour telling us expressly: Now I will not call you servants, 
john 15.15.  but I call you friends; and to the Apostle who sticketh not to call us, 
Eph. ●. 19.  the domestics of God. Wherefore from the ground, which Aristotle layeth, we may more truly conclude, that seeing friendship must necessarily be grounded upon an equality, something is put into us by the hand of God, which raiseth the baseness of our nature to so excellent a likeness with him, as to be capable of his friendship. Of which gift though all be partakers, that have the justifying Grace of God inherent in them, yet Religious people have many particular reasons to rejoice in it above others, and reap many singular commodities by enjoying it.  
3. And first, they have that most excellent similitude with God, which consisteth in the freeness, which they enjoy, from vice and multiplicity of affections, and in the constancy and permanency of their will in good, whereof I have discoursed at large before; and also by the sublime disposition of their mind, soaring above all things created, and domineering over them by contemning them; finally, not to repeat every thing again, by the integrity of their chaste and continent life, 
Sap 6.20.  whereof the Wiseman saith: Incorruption maketh a man near to God; and doubtless the nearer we come to the likeness with God, the truer and more perfect is our friendship with him; and the effects of his friendship, 
The effects of friendship.  more signal and more abundant in us. For whereas the first thing in friendship is, to make things common among friends; what is there that Religion's people do not give unto God, or what hath God, which he doth not impart to them again? The Religious give themselves, and that they have; God on the other side bestows upon them his graces, and his glory, that is, himself. As therefore in this state of life, there is a real communication of all things betwixt God and them, and consequently true & perfect friendship; so they that have not yet arrived to this degree of communication, may understand thereby, that as far as they are short of it, so far they are short of the perfection of the friendship with God.  
4. Moreover, 
Arist●tle 7. 〈◊〉 5.  in this friendship there wanteth not Conversation, without which (as Aristotle affirmeth) no friendship can hold. I do not mean such external conversation, 
Conversation with God.  as depends of nearnes of body and sense, which can not reach the presence of God, and things Divine; but the communication which we may have by our mind and spirit, wherewith we traffic with God and his holy Angels, and perform that which the Apostle saith: Our conversation is in heaven. For where is this more perfectly, more frequently, & more at ease performed then in Religion, 
Philip. 3● 20.  which of purpose barreth all other conversation, wholly to attend to this? And God, who saith, His delight is to be with the sons of men, cannot but converse much more willingly with them, that so ardently desire his blessed company, & absolutely prefer it before all things created.  
5. What honour therefore, what pleasure, what commodity must necessarily follow of this Conversation? For if we desire to converse with wise men, to the end we may learn by their wisdom; and with rich men, that we may partake of their riches; upon far more solid grounds we may hope for all kind of good by conversing with God, and in particular, many heavenly illustrations, many sweet communications, and present tokens of his love towards us; which cannot but bring wonderful contentment to our souls, and make us feel within ourselves that, 
Sap 8.16.  which in the Book of Wisdom is spoken of the wisdom which we are speaking of: 
S. Bernard● serm. de Quadr.  His conversation hath no betternes, and his commerce no irksomeness, but joy and gladness. Wherefore S. Bernard ha● great reason to make the comparison, which he doth, betwixt the Religious and Secular people, saying, that Religious people be of the household of God; Secular people, and they that are good among them, belong indeed to his Army, but further off; and addeth: Happy are you that have been thought worthy to be of his household, to whom the Apostle speaketh when he saith: Now you are not strangers and forreners, but you are Citizens with the Saints, and domestics of God. It is therefore a matter of great consequence to be the friend of God, and to converse familiarly with him, and a place of great honour and dignity, and also of exceeding great commodity.  

Religious people are kindred of God.  6. But yet this league, which is betwixt a Religious man and God, is 〈◊〉 my conceit of a higher strain than friendship, and deserves a more honourable name, claiming a kind of kindred and near propinquity with him; which if I did fain of mine own head, it would savour of pride and presumption for me to say it; but seeing our Saviour hath so expressly cast it upon us, it were both foolish not to entertain it, and wicked not to believe it. No man can be ignorant of the answer, which he made to the man that brought him word, that his mother and his brethren were standing without, 
Matth 12. 5●.  He that doth the will of my Father that is in heaven, he is my brother, and my sister, and my mother. To what state of life doth this saying more properly agree, then to a Religious course, where people fulfil the will of God, not in one or two things, but in all & always, and are bound to the will of God as strictly, as they are bound to the Obedience which they vow to keep perpetually all their life-time? Wherefore the promise also, which S. Paul cities out of the ancient Prophets, doth belong unto them: Go out of the midst of them, 
2. Cor. 6.17.  and be separated from them, saith our Lord, and I will be a father to you, & you shall be my sons and daughters, saith our Lord Almighty. Religious people therefore having performed the first, and departed out of the midst of the world and worldlings, it remaineth that God entertain them as his children; and though it were honour enough to be servants to so infinite a Majesty, yet they may justly claim this other title, and expect he should have a fatherly care over them, and cherish them with fatherly love.  

Religious people the spouses of Christ.  7. Finally, that no degree of love and friendship nor benefit also might be wanting in this one benefit of God, he deals so liberally with these his children, that (as all Divines deliver, and particularly S. Thomas) he makes them his Spouses; which I know not whether I may say it is a nearer, but certainly it is wont to be a more sweet kind of tie, 
S. Thom. 4. d. 27 q ●. are 3. ad 3.  then that of children. And to say no more than that which is true, the marriage of a Religious soul with God, is in a manner as truly a marriage, as any can be between man and wife. 
In regard of Chastity.  S. Augustin attributeth this effect to voluntary Chastity. They that vow virginity to God, saith he, though they have a higher place of honour and dignity in the Church, yet they are not without marriage; for they pertain to the marriage with the whole Church, 
August. 9 in joan.  in which marriage, the Bridegroom is CHRIST. Which doubtless agreeth particularly to all Religious people, in" regard of their Continency. For God will never suffer himself to be overcome with liberality, but whatsoever we do for his love, he rewards it even in things of like nature with great increase. For as he returneth a hundred-fold in possessions to them that leave their possessions for his sake, & to them that leave father and mother he giveth himself in lieu of them, with a hundred times as much love and charity as father and mother could bear towards them; so he repayeth in like kind them, that forsake carnal marriage for his love, and vouchsafeth them a more happy marriage with himself. 
And of their vow.  Though besides Chastity, there is another thing in Religion, which much resembleth marriage. For as marriage tieth man and wife together with so absolute a bond, as that our Saviour said ●f it, 
Matt●●● ●.  That which God hath conjoined, let not man sever; so when a man hath bound himself once to God by solemn Vow in Religion, that bond can never be broken or dissolved by any humane power. So that look what force the words (I take thee) have in carnal marriage, the same force that word (I vow) hath in our spiritual marriage with God: and when it is once uttered, it draweth upon us so firm, and strong, and perpetual a tie, that no humane power (as I said) can free us of it. The difference is that the first bindeth us to man, the second to God; where we may easily see the infinite disparity, which is both of dignity and contentment betwixt the one and the other; yet they agree in this, that as man and wife are both of them equally obliged by marriage, so the Vows of Religion tying us to God, do tie also God to us; such is his infinite love towards us. What therefore can we desire more? 
1. Cor. 7.4.  They agree also in that, as the wise hath not power over her own body, but the husband (as the Apostle speaketh) so Religious people have no power neither over body nor mind; because spiritual marriage doth equally give both to God, and indeed the mind rather than the body, or at least principally the mind; so that Christ our Saviour hath full title, and right, and power over both, established upon him.  
8. Moreover as in carnal marriages the Bride leaves her father's house, her parents, and kinsfolk, and brethren, and all her friends which she had at home, 
They go to h●●se with Christ.  and goeth to house with her husband; so Religious people forsake all their kindred, their parents, and all with whom they were bred and acquainted before, to go to house with Christ, and be incorporated in his family. And they forsake them more, than any wife is wont to do; because they part from them not in bodily presence only, but withdraw their mind and affection from them, and bar all communication with them. Upon which point S. Bernard hath a pleasant discourse (as his manner is in all other things) in one of his Sermons upon the Canticles, where having showed how like a Religious Soul is to the Eternal Word of God, 
S. Bernard. S. 〈◊〉 in Can●.  he goeth on in this manner: From this degree she, that is as I have said, dares now think of marriage; and why should she not, beholding herself therefore marriageable, because she i● like? Highness doth not fright her, seeing likeness doth equal her. Love makes the agreement, and her Profession weds her. The form of Profession is this: 
Ps. 118. 100LS. Matt. 19.27.  I have sworn, and resolved to keep the judgements of thy justice. The Apostles following this form said: Behold, we have left all, and followed thee; what therefore shall we have? That which was spoken of carnal marriage, but represented by the spiritual wedding of the Church with Christ, soundeth to the same effect. Therefore shall a man forsake his father and mother, and cleave to his wife, and they shall be two in one flesh. 
Gen. 2. 24●  Wherefore when you see a Soul forsake all, and cleave to the Eternal Word with all her desire, when you see her live according to the Word, rule herself by the Word, and conceive of the Word, that which she may bring forth for the Word; a soul that may say: To me, to live is CHRIST; 
Philip. 1.21. Prou. 31. ●●.  and to dye, gain; make account she is a wife, married to the Word, the hart of her husband confideth in her, knowing her to be faithful, because she hath set all things at naught in comparison of him, and esteemeth all things as dung, that she may gain him. Thus S. Bernard.  
9 Some body perhaps will ask, 
The children of this spiritual marriage.  where be the children of this marriage? They are not wanting; because nothing that is good and delightful should be wanting in it. S. Bernard in the place before alleged saith, that in this spiritual marriage there be two kinds of bringingforth of children, & two sorts of children, different, but not contrary, to one an other, to wit, when these blessed Mothers either by preaching bring-forth souls, or in meditation bring-forth spiritual conceits. 
C●●● 4. ●●.  Of the first kind of children S. Paul speaketh in these words; My little children, with whom again I am in labour, till Christ be form in you. 
2. 〈◊〉 1.12  Of the second he saith; whether we suffer excess of mind, to God. And comparing them both together S. Bernard saith thus: 
S Bernard 〈…〉.  The mind is otherwise disposed, when it doth fructify to the Word and otherwise when it doth enjoy the Word. There the necessity of others doth call upon it; here the sweetness of the Word doth invite it: And certainly such a Mother is joyful in the children, which she bringeth; but much more joyful in the arms of her Spouse embracing her; dear are the pledges of children, but kisses do more delight; It is good to save many; but to suffer excess, and to be with the Word, i● mo● delightful.  

S. Ambros. s●r 9  10. This is the true and real marriage of a Soul with the Eternal God, wherein if it glory, as S. Agnes anciently did, it shall not be unwise, because she is betrothed to him, upon whom the Angels wait; by whose love and embracings, purity is not lost, but doubled; from him she receives a ring and princess jewels, and by his vermilion-bloud her cheeks are died red. Of the happiness & perpetuity of this Marriage, 
Osee 2.19.  Osee the Prophet speaketh excellently well in these words: I will espouse thee to me for ever; and I will espouse thee to me in justice, and judgement, and in mercy, and commiseration; and I will espouse thee to me in faith, and thou shalt know that I am thy Lord. It is grounded (as he saith) in faith, not in flesh and blood; for it is not contracted with man, but with that infinite Majesty; whom we come to embrace, not with the arms of our body, but by stretching forth the arms of our soul, by the sinews of faith.  

 11. But what consideration can be more delightful than that, whereas ca●nal marriage ceaseth when we castof this flesh by death, the heavenly espousals (as the Prophet calls them) are everlasting; they begin here on earth, but are perfected and consummated in heaven; and are to last as long as our Bridegroom and we do live, which is for all eternity. Finally of the dignity of this marriage S. Bernard in an other Sermon both truly and eloquently speaketh thus: 
S. Bernard. 〈…〉.  How happeneth it, o Soul of man, how happeneth it to thee? From whence comes this inestimable glory upon thee, that thou shouldst deserve to be the Bride to him, whom the Angels desire to behold? Whence comes it that he should be thy Bridegroom, whose beauty the sun & the moon admire, at whose beck all things are changed? What wilt thou render to our Lord, for all that which he hath bestowed upon thee, that thou shouldst be his companion at board, his companion in his kingdom, finally his companion in bed; that the King should bring thee into his chamber? Look what thou wilt hereafter think of thy God, look what thou mayst presume of his Majesty! Consider what arms of charity thou wilt lend him in the mean time, to love him again, and embrace him, who hath valued thee at so high a rate, yea who hath made thee to be of so high a value. For he made thee again out of his side, when for thee he slept upon the Cross, and to that end entertained the sleep of death. For thee he came forth from his Father, and left the Synagogue his mother, that thou cleaving to him mightst be one spirit with him. Thou therefore, daughter, hearken, and see, and consider how great things thy God hath thought thee worthy of, and forget thy people, and the house of thy father, forsake thy carnal affections; forget thy secular behaviour; abstain from thy former vices, and forgo thy evil customs. Thus speaketh S. Bernard in this point. In which if we may give him credit, so grave a man as he is, and writing so advisedly as he doth, what life can be more honourable, or in regard of pleasure more desireful, than Religion? For in every ordinary marriage it is generally the custom and also necessary, that man and wife partake of one an others condition, state, and goods, insomuch that if a Prince, or a King, take a woman of mean estate to his wife, she hath part with him, both of his wealth, and of his command, because as by marriage they are alone, so whatsoever they have, must needs be common betwixt them. And the selfsame happeneth in our spiritual marriage with God, and is so much the more perfectly performed, by how much the goodness of God is infinitely greater, and his love towards mankind infinitely more ardent and vehement.   

Religious people are the Temples of God, in regard they are consecrated to his honour. CHAP. XIV.  
ANOTHER degree of dignity accrueth to Religious people by Consecration. A dignity certainly far hi●her than all humane honour, and raising us to a kind of participation of Divinity itself, as much as humane frailty is capable of. For as all honour, worship and reverence is due to the Divine Nature, by reason of the supereminent excellency and worth which is in it; so when a thing is once dedicated to God, the very relation which it hath to him, puts a new kind of worth into it, and every one takes it ever after to be worthy of particular respect and reverence, as a thing severed from the rank and number of other things, which otherwise are of the same nature with it. And this is that which Religion doth, by dedicating & consecrating to God those that undertake that course. For so the Glory of Schoole-divinitie, 
S. Thomas 2.2. q 88 art. 7 By solemn Vows we are consecrated to God. S. August. in Ps. 231. S. Basil ser. ● de mon. Inst.  S Thomas & the Thomists, deliver, when disputing the nature of a solemn Vow they say it consists in Consecration, which leaveth such a print in the soul, of relation to God, that it can never be blotted-out or razed by any means. And it may be confirmed out of S. Augustin, who expounding one of the Psalms saith expressly, that by force of the vows of Religion we are made Temples of God. And S. Basil saith, that whosoever renounceth the world, is made as it were a vessel for the service of God, and consequently must beware he be not polluted by sinful use, but carefully preserve himself as a thing dedicated to God, least defi●ing his body again, which he hath consecrated to God, in the ordinary services of this life, he be guilty of sacrilege. Behold, S. Basil accounteth it Sacrilege, not only if a man, that is once concrated to God, pollute himself by sin, but if he return to profane, or, as he speaketh, to common and ordinary conversation.  

S. Bernard S. de dedic. 〈◊〉. The Ceremonies of Consecration applied to Religious people.  2. S. Bernard discourseth to the same effect, applying the whole Ceremony of the dedication of a Church, to the consecration of a Religious man to God. The solemnity of this day (dearly beloved Brethren) is yours; yours is this solemnity, you are they that are dedicated to God; he hath chosen and selected you for his own. How good an exchange have you made (my beloved) of whatsoever you might have enjoyed in the world, since now by forsaking all, you have deserved to be his, who is Author of the world; and to have him for your possession, who is doubtless the portion and inheritance of his? And so he goeth-on applying, as I said, to Religious people the whole ceremony, which is used in consecrating Churches, wherein (as he saith) these five things concur: Aspersion, Inscription, Inunction, Illumination, and Benediction, all which is performed in a Religious state. Aspersion is the washing away of our sins by Confession, by rivers of tears, by the sweat of penance. Inscription made not in stone, but in ashes, signifieth the Law, which Christ the true Bishop and Pastor of our souls writeth with his fingar, not in tables of stone, but in the new hart which he gives, a hart humble and contrite. Unction is the plenty of grace, which is given to the end to make this yoke rot from the face of the oil. Illumination is the abundance of good works, which proceed from Religion, and shine before men, that they may glorify the heavenly Father, and have before their eyes what they may imitate. Finally Benediction (which is the conclusion of the whole Ceremony) is as it ●ere a sign and seal of eternal glory, fulfilling the grace of our Sanctification, and bringing a most ample reward of all the good works which we have done.  

The digni●● of a soul consecrated to God.  3. Seeing therefore the Consecration of a church built of lime and stone, doth so lively represent unto us the Consecration of a Religious soul to God; from the same similitude of a material church we may take a scantling of the dignity of a soul that is in that happy state. We see what difference there is betwixt the house of God dedicated to his use, and an ordinary house which is for the dwelling of men. If we regard the material, they are the same in both; stones, and mortar, and timber alike: But the use of them is far different. For in our ordinary dwelling, we eat, and drink, and sleep, and play, and work, and bring-in our horses and cattle for our use, and we do these things lawfully, and there is no indecency in it; but if we do any of these things in a Church consecrated to God, it is an irreverence to the place, and a sin. The same we may say of a Chalice that is hallowed; for not only if we cast dirt upon it, but if we drink in it at table, it is a great offence; and so we find, 
〈◊〉 5.1.  that the King of Babylon, after he had used the vessel of the Temple of Herusalem at his board, within few hours lost both his kingdom and life; so great is the sanctity of these things; and people do usually make no other account, but that there is something in them, for which we ought not to use or handle them without reverence and veneration. As therefore betwixt the house of God and other houses, and betwixt a consecrated Chalice and other cups, there is so main a difference in the esteem of them: so a soul that is consecrated to God, doth far excel the soul of a secular Layman in rank and dignity. And we have so much the more reason to think and say so, because these material things being void of sense and reason, are not capable of any inward sanctity by Consecration; but though we say that the walls, and the vestments, and the vessels be holy, and we reverence them as such, yet all this holiness is but outward; inwardly they are nothing altered: But the soul of man, is the proper seat of sanctity, and consequently by Consecration it is inwardly adorned, and perfected, and drawn to a higher degree of dignity, and nearer to God. What beauty therefore and grace must there needs be in that soul, which thus inwardly changed putteth off, as I may say, all mortal hue, and is clothed with a kind of Divinity? what gold or precious stone can be compared unto it? or what sun did ever shine so bright at noonday, if we had eyes to behold this wonderful dignity of ours, & of others that follow the same course.  
4. And this dignity is the greater, 
God particularly present in Religious souls.  in regard that as a temple made of stone is therefore called the house of God, because the infinite Majesty of God, which is every where, doth particularly manifest itself in such a place, and as it were rest in that house: so in these spiritual temples, built, not by the workmanship of man, but by the hand of God, when they are once consecrated unto him, he doth willingly rest, and particularly show his goodness in them. Which S. Paul witnesseth in these words: 
2 Cor. 6.16.  You are the temple of the living God as God saith: Because I will dwell in them, 
3. Reg. ●  and walk among them, and be their God And God himself declared it to be so in that famous Temple of Solomon, when after the consecration, as we read, so soon as the Priests came out of the Sanctuary, where they had set down the Ark, a cloud coming down from heaven, filled the whole house, in so much that the Priests could not stand to do the office; for as holy Scripture speaketh, The glory of our Lord had filled the house of our Lord. And Solomon out of his wisdom understood it well enough; for presently he broke into these words for very joy; Our Lord hath said, that he would dwell in a cloud. Which is the same, which passeth in a soul that hath voluntarily and legally consecrated itself to God; for God doth fill our souls also with his presence, and with his glory; and not in a cloud, that may hinder us in our duty towards him, by the thickness and obscurity of it; but rather in a clear light both delighting and helping us in so great a work. 
And the holy Angels.  And consequently whatsoever belongeth to a consecrated temple, must much more belong to a Religious soul; to wit, that the Angels dwell the more willingly about it, by reason of the sanctity of it; that the prayers of such a soul are the more acceptable to God, in regard they come from a holy place; and the goodness of God inhabiting in it, 
2. Reg. 6. 1ST  must needs fill it with abundance of all kind of blessings, no less than the Ar●●e among the Children of Israël; and finally all the thoughts, and actions and endeavours of such a soul, retaining the natural savour of the root from which they grow, must needs be the more welcome to God by reason of this consecration, and more gracious in his sight. To conclude, as in the temple of God we offer Sacrifice, as in a place properly ordained for that purpose; so a Religious soul doth daily offer to God sacrifices without number, 
Ps. 50.  laud and praise of God, inflamed acts of Charity, of thanksgiving of sorrow for our sins, a contr●te hart and afflicted spirit, and many holy desires and purposes, which are the spiritual sacrifices acceptable in the sight of God, 
1. P●tr 2. 5●  which S. Peter wisheth us always to offer.   

Religious people are a continual Sacrifice, in regard of the oblation which they make of themselves. CHAP. XV.  
BY that, which hath been said, we see how Religious people are truly the Temples of God; now let us consider in brief, how they are also truly a Sacrifice; for the Sacrifice doubtless is more holy and more excellent than the Temple, seeing Temples are not consecrated but for Sacrifices. 
S. Greg. 9 moral. ●.  Whereof S. Gregory speaketh thus: We offer ourselves in Sacrifice to God, when we dedicate our life to his divine service; and applieth to this purpose that which is commanded in Leviticus, that the parts of the Victim be cut in pieces, and so burnt by fire; which, as he saith, is performed, when we offer the works of our life distinguished into several virtues And Waldensis, 
Wal●●nt de Sa●ramenus ut 9 c. 78.1.  a grave Divine, doth not only call it a Sacrifice, but a high and excellent Sacrifice, when a man, as he speaketh, consecrateth all the actions of his mind and body everlastingly to God, by entering into Religion. And certainly, if it be a Sacrifice to offer any thing that we have, to God;" what question can there be but that to offer ourselves, is truly a Sacrifice? the essence whereof consisteth in the perfect oblation of ourselves, 
Entrance into Religion is a Sacrifice.  specially in such an oblation, as is not afterwards in our power to recall. For as in the ancient Sacrifices the Host was killed, and could return to life no more: so the gift which we make, and whereby we dedicate ourselves to God, is immutable, and we cannot claim or reassume ourselves again, or that which we have once offered. 
S. August. 10. de Ciu ●. ●. 6.  Whereupon S. Augustin discourseth in this manner, and saith in express terms: That a man consecrated and vow ● to the honour of God, is a Sacrifice, in regard he dyeth to the world that he may live to God: when also we chastise our body by temperance, if we do it for God, as we ought to do, to the end not to yield our members weapons of iniquity, but weapons of justice to God, it is a Sacrifice. If therefore our body, which is but as it were a servant & instrument of our Soul, be a Sacrifice, if the good and upright use thereof be directed to God; how much rather shall a Soul be a Sacrifice, when it directeth itself to God, to the end that inflamed with the fire of his love it may destroy in itself the form and impression of all worldly concupiscence, and be reform according to his unchangeable likeness, subject unto him, and so much the more grateful, by how much it partaketh of his beauty ' All this is of S. Augustin.  
2. Whereby we see that the Sacrifice, which we offer of ourselves, is twofold, to wit, a Sacrifice of our body, and a Sacrifice of our soul: and both of them are so wholly directed to God, that they have no relation at all to ourselves; which is to dye to ourselves, 
The Priest, and knife & the fire, in this Sacrifice.  and live to an other. If any body ask: where is the Priest, & the knife, & the fire, to offer, kill & consume this Sacrifice? The Priest is the same with the Host and Victim; to wit, the man himself. For this oblation consisteth in spirit, and is performed in spirit, and consequently no man's hand but his that offereth himself, can reach this Host; according to that which we read in the Psalm: I will voluntarily Sacrifice unto thee. 
Ps. 53 ●.  The knife is the hatred of our own life, which our Saviour willeth us to have, and the fire is no other than that fire, which the same our Lord and Saviour came to send into the world, 
Luc▪ 14 26.  and wished, and sought no other, but that it should burn. 
Luc 12 4●.  For this heavenly fire descending from above, when it once takes in our hart, easily consumes our Sacrifice, as it did the Sacrifice of Elias, and the wood, 
3. Reg 17.38.  and stones, and the very dust; that is, it directs us wholly, & whatsoever is in us, be it never so earthly and base, to the service of God alone.  
3. But because anciently there were many kinds of Sacrifices, and the greatest of them all was a Holocaust, because in it, not part only, but the whole Host was burned to the honour of God, we must understand that the oblation which Religious people make, is a Holocaust, which doth add no small beauty and grace to their dignity. 
S. Greg. h●m. 12 in Ezech.  S. Gregory saith it in these words: They that do the things which pertain to God so, as not to part with some things notwithstanding which pertain to the world, they offer Sacrifice, but not a Holocaust: But they that forsake all things that pertain to the world, and consume their whole soul in the fire of the love of God, they are in the sight of God both a Sacrifice and a Holocaust.  
4. How could he have spoken in clearer terms, 
S. Thom. 2● 2. q 186. art. 7:  or described a Religious man in more natural colours? And S. Thomas giveth the same reason why Religion is a Holocaust, to wit, because it giveth all to God; and whosoever putteth himself into a Religious state, offereth all things, outward and inward, to the Creator of all: for we are not only said to Sacrifice the things which are within us, when we offer them to God, but also the things which are without us, 
2 Reg. 2●6 17.  when we forsake them for God; as David, when he cast away the water which he had in his hand, and cast it away for God's sake, he is said to have Sacrificed it to God; the very depriving himself of it in that manner, being a new kind of fashion of Sacrifice.  
5. The blessed Apostle S. Paul doth in my judgement clearly express the nature and excellency of this inward Sacrifice, 
Hom. 1●. ●  when he calleth it a living host, holy, pleasing to God, a reasonable service; for by calling it reasonable, that is, spiritual, he giveth us to understand, that not only our body but our mind, and reason, and soul is offered; calling it an Host, he signifieth that here also is a kind of death; adding the word (living) he insinuateth that this death doth strangely both take away our life and preserve it; 
The soul● of man 〈◊〉 grateful Sacrifice●.  finally he calleth it Holy and pleasing to God, because whatsoever is consecrated to God, is holy; and nothing can be more pleasing to God, thou a soul that doth willingly and entirely sacrifice itself to his Divine Majesty for his love. 
The soul of a man a grateful sacrifice.  For if those ancient Sacrifices were so acceptable unto him, that he received them willingly in an odour of sweetness, notwithstanding that in them there was only offered the flesh of a heifer of three years old, or of a red calf or some other such beast; that which is offered in this spiritual Sacrifice being far more noble and excellent, as being bought with the inestimable price of the most precious blood of God, the oblation thereof to God must needs be also far more grateful and acceptable. And what is this but the soul of man, which we may truly say is sacrificed in this Holocaust? because, as we have showed elsewhere, it is proper to Religious people, to dye to themselves and to the whole world, because they leave themselves and the world, as much as if they were verily dead, and the state, which they undertake, bringeth upon them an undoubted & irrevocable obligation to do so. Whereupon S. Bernard describing a Religious man, setteth him forth unto us not only as a Pilgrim or stranger, 
S. Bernard. serm 7. Quadrag.  because a stranger hath something, though he hath but little; but he likeneth him to a dead man, and a man that is crucified: because, saith he, he is as free from the works of the world as either of them: & it is al-one to him whether he hear one praise him or dispraise him, or rather he heareth them not at all, because he is dead; and he honours, & riches, & pleasures, which the world doth love, are a cross unto him.  
6. But that which is most strange in this Sacrifice, together with true death we find true life conjoined, 
Life and death conjoined in this sacrifice.  as the Apostle insinuateth; life not hindering death, and death not taking away our life; which as in those other Sacrifices it could not possibly happen, so in this our spiritual Sacrifice it cannot be otherwise. For if it should bereave us altogether of our life, it would take away our means of serving God; and yet if it were not death, it were not a true Holocaust. Both therefore of necessity must be conjoined together, that, as S. Gregory speaketh, 
S. Greg. hom in vl●. in Ezech. Col. 3.3.  it be an Host, because a man dies to the world, and yet is living, because still he doth all the good he can. And of this living-death, as I may call it, S. Paul saith very well: You are dead, and your life is hidden with Christ in God; 
Col. 3.3.  to which state, as the same S. Gregory interpreteth, we arrive, when severed from the turmoils of secular desires, 
S. Greg. 6 〈…〉  forsaking all outward things, we attend only to the inward, to the end that our mind aspiring wholly to the love of God, may not be touched with trouble of any earthly thing. So that we may fitly apply also to this Sacrifice that, which God commanded should be observed in the ancient Holocausts; to wit, that whereas the rest of the Host was consumed by fire, 
Levit. 7 8.  the skin was reserved for the Priest. For, as I said before, there being in this Sacrifice no other Priest but ourselves, nothing at all remains of the Sacrifice to ourselves but the skin, that is, the outward shape of a body, 
A Religious life a continual Holocaust.  which Religion doth not take away. All the rest that is inward, is consumed by that Divine fire, when it is consecrated to God and to the honour of his Divine Majesty; and so in this state that is easily performed, which S. Paul said of himself, that he lived, to wit, according to the outward show, but yet that he did not live, but Christ in him. All which being in itself clear. we may deservedly and truly say, that the whole life of a Religious man is a Holocaust, as wanting neither death, or any other part or perfection of a Holocaust, & a Holocaust which dureth not for a while, but continually, & daily, lasting as long as our life doth last; which one thing discovers the wonderful dignity of a Religious life. For if Abel, or Noë, or Abraham, never pleased God more, than when they offered those memorable Sacrifices, which are recounted of them; and no man in his whole life-time can do any thing better, or more holy, then to offer Sacrifice; which notwithstanding we cannot always do, but seldom, and at certain times; what shall we worthily think of that state of life, which is a continual Sacrifice, lasting as long as the man himself lasteth and breatheth? And this our Sacrifice is so much the more excellent than any of those ancient Sacrifices, in regard that it is not the flesh of rams and bullocks which is now offered, but our own flesh, and our own soul, far more precious than any flesh whatsoever.   

A Religious State compared with the State of a King. CHAP. XVI.  
THIS, which I have delivered concerning the dignity of a Religious State, being well considered, is enough to make a man easily contemn all worldly preferment in comparison of it, and esteem not only meaner places of honour far inferior unto it, but even Princely dignities and the degree of a King; which in men's judgement is the highest place, and the top of that, to which humane ambition can aspire. A comparison which might with some colour seem to favour of pride and arrogancy, if we should ground it upon our own conceit; but so many worthy and grave Authors use it, that their name and authority must needs carry it against all that shall oppose. Though if we weigh that which hath been formerly said of the dignity of a Religious life, we may find reason enough to think, that this comparison doth rather diminish then add to the lustre of it. For it is a far greater thing, to be like to God, and so like as we have showed, then to resemble any earthly Prince, whose power and Majesty is little or none at all if we compare it with the power and Majesty of God.  
2. First therefore a Religious State doth resemble the State of a King in a degree, 
All just men are Kings. Bel. 3. in Luc. c. 48.  which is common to all just and holy men, whom venerable Bede calleth great Kings, because they suffer not themselves to be carried down the stream with every inordinate motion, which doth tempt them by consenting unto them, but they know how to command and govern them. To which purpose S. Gregory applieth that of the Canticles: 
Cant 6.7. S. Greg.  Threescore be Queens. For he saith thus: What is signified by these Queens, but the souls of the Saints, which ruling their bodies with discretion, purchase an eternal kingdom? For there be some in the holy Church, that pull down their flesh, and punish it for God; they overcome their passions and vice; they subdue the Devils, as tyrants and usurpers; they prudently direct all their affections in an orderly course; they preach to others that which they do themselves; they draw many out of the jaws of the Devil, fight against him with the sword of the Word; what are these Souls but Queens, who tenderly loving Christ their King and Spouse, by commixtion of love, and detestation of lust, bring forth a Princely offspring, that is, Faithful people? S. Gregory doth not name Religious people in this place, but by the actions and functions, which are proper to them, he doth show plainly the thing itself, and the State; specially where he calleth these souls the Spouses of Christ, which title the obligation of their Vow doth give them, as I have showed before.  
3. S john Chrysostom handling this argument more at large, doth bring such reasons for it, as cannot be applied to any other but a Religious course. For in the Work which he wrote against the dispraisers of a Monastical life, addressing his second Book to the Heathens and Gentiles that were ignorant of the Gospel, and of the glory of the life to come, he layeth down so pregnant proofs, 
 drawn from that which happeneth in this present life, to demonstrate that the life of a Monk is far to be preferred before the state of a King, that no man can have any colour to doubt of it. For whereas in a King there be two things principally which are most aimed at, to wit, Power and Honour, thus he discourseth of them both: What is in your opinion the greatest sign of Power? Is it not to be able to revenge himself of all his enemies, and of whosoever stands against him; and reward all them that have been beneficial or dutiful unto him? And yet ●●u will not find all this power in a King; For he hath many enemies, of 〈◊〉 he cannot have his will; and many that are loving and beneficial unto him, whom he is not able to reward. But a Monk hath a greater and a more eminent power then this, which Kings cannot enjoy. For if it be an act of greatest power to be revenged of our enemies, it is a far more excellent thing to find out such a state of life, as no man can hurt, though he would never so fain. For though it be a great matter to be so skilful at one's weapon, as to be able to strike any man that can strike me; yet it is far better, and more ●are and excellent, to have such a body, as cannot be hurt by any skill. And yet there is a greater power than this, to wit, not only that a man cannot be hurt, but to be in such a state, that no man can have a mind to hurt him. For so he is in much more safety, because of times though a man cannot hurt another, yet if he hate him, this very hatred doth in no small measure abridge his happiness and contentment. What therefore can be imagined more ra●e and Divine than this state of life, which no man hath a mind to hurt; and if he had a mind, he could not hurt it? For how can it come into any man's mind to malice or offer injury to him, that hath nothing to do with any man? For we malice people either out of envy, or fear, or anger. But this noble and indeed Princelike man is above all these things. For who will envy him that laugheth at all things, which others love and admire? Who will be angry with a man that offereth him no wrong? who will fear a man, of whom he can have no suspicion? No man therefore certainly will hurt such a man. Now that he cannot hurt him though he would is also plain; for he cannot find wherein to entrap him. For as an eagle soaring on-high cannot be caught in the nets, that are laid for lesser birds; so also a Religious man. For how, or by what occasion can any man hurt him▪ He hath neither money nor wealth, that he need sear the loss of it; he hath no country, out of which he can be threatened to be banished; he aimeth not at glory so, as to ●eare any disgrace. One thing you will say there is, to wit, death: but whosoever shall kill him, shall not only not hurt or contristate him, but shall do him a great pleasure; for he sends him thereby to another life which he desireth with all his hart, and for which he doth all that which he doth. And if we regard honour, a Monk is in greater honour, than any secular man. For secular power hath many that fear it, and never a whit fewer that hate it: But every body doth willingly and joyfully reverence a Religious man. And oftimes it happeneth that people of mean birth, they that have been children of peasants or tradesmen▪ giving themselves to this kind of Philosophy, have been so venerable in the eyes of all men, that men of great quality have not been ashamed to go to their Cottages, and converse with them with such signs of affection, as if the very speaking with them had been a singular favour and fortune unto themselves, as in truth it was Thus discou●seth S. Chrysostome, and much more copiously of this matter.  
4. And yet more largely in another Homily, 
 which he entitles: A Comparison between a King and a M●nk. where he handleth this subject so solidly and clearly, that whosoever shall read it, will find all that his hart can desire of this matter. We will only coppie-out a piece of it into this place. A King (saith he) ruleth over Cities and Provinces, and many Nations: A Monk commandeth over Anger▪ and Envy, and Covetousness, & Lust, and the rest of the diseases of the mind, & hath his thoughts elevated above all humane things. And doubtless we have more reason to account this man a King, than the other; for if the King himself be a slave to fear and lust, he is not the governor of the people, but the things by which himself is governed, & whose dictamen he followeth. A King makes war against barbarous nations for the bounds of his Empire, for wealth, for riches: A Monk fighteth against the Devils, whose assaults be more violent, and their nature more noble, and consequently the victory more glorious▪ and the intent of this war is Piety, and the service of God. Behold both their conversations, and you shall see a Monk conversing with the Prophets, learning the wisdom of S. Paul, passing from Moses to Esay, from Esay to S. john, from S. john to some other, and by this means becomes like to them, with whom he doth converse, as it usually happeneth. A King passeth all his life-time with them, who speak him fair to his face, and flatter him for their own ends, and do nothing but vaunt themselves of their own deeds. A Monck watcheth in the night to speak with God, to have the company of the holy Angels, to delight himself in heavenly things: A man, that is Governor over people and nations, you shall find at those times laid along in his bed and snorting, not much differing from a dead man. A King be he as bountiful as he can, that which he gives, is but gold: a Monk obtains of God the spirit of Grace, and corporal benefits also, by his prayers; and nothing is more hateful to the Devils, than the prayers of a Monk, nothing doth terrify them more; 
3. Reg. 1●.  and Kings themselves have been often constrained to have recourse unto them, as Achab to Elias, Ezechias to the Prophet Esay. 
4. Reg. 19  Finally death is terrible to a King; to a Monk it is welcome. A King is always in fear of death, and therefore he hath soldiers, for the Guard of his body; A Monk doth not only fear no man, but guards others, yea whole cities, as if he were a rampire unto them. Th●● far S. john Chrysostome.  

Religious people come more nobl● to their 〈…〉 K●ng to his  5. To which for a Conclusion we may add another consideration of the difference, how they come to their several dignities. For Kings are either borne unto it, and so come to their Kingdom by succession; or they are chosen by voices, which is more glorious of the two; for to be borne to a Kingdom, is fortune, to be chosen, is a sign of Virtue, if so be that people have regard to virtue in it: Religious people arrive to this great honour, neither by birth nor by humane election or grant, but by the sole will of God, who chooseth them out from many others, and vouchsafeth to translate them into his family, and register them among his household-seruants. For it is not humane wit, ●r industry, or the suggestion of any other man, or natural strength, wherewith we compass these hard and difficult enterprises, to forsake the world, to overcome the love of our parents and kinsfolks, to subject our will under such a continual yoke, as this is. Nature hath not so much strength, nor ladders so high, nor wings so strong as to carry it to so high a pitch; but whatsoever we do in this kind, is the work of God, as our Saviour telleth not his Apostles only, 
john. 15 16.  but all, when he saith: Yo● have not chosen me, but I have chosen you And again; 
Io. 6.44.  No man can come unto me, vnl●sse my Father do not only call, or invite, and put him on, but draw him. How greatly therefore are we bound to God, that hath so voluntarily and of his own accord loved and embraced us, and made us partakers of so great a good, without any desert of ours▪ y●a rather when we did deserve the contrary, & were wholly unworthy of it specially considering that he leaves many others; that we may justly say with the Prophet: 
Ps. 147.  He hath not donn● so to ecurie nation; nor manifested h●● judgements unto them. Great therefore is the dignity of a Religious man, not only in that he is chosen to so high a Vocation, but in that so hi●h a Person hath made choice of him▪ a person, I say, whose judgement in our case is to be preferred not only before the judgement of one nation casting a kingdom upon a man, but before the judgement of the whole world, and of all the men that are, or ever were, or ever shall be in the world.  
6. How great this difference is betwixt a Religious state, and the dignity of a King, 
King's ●●e 〈◊〉 on their King●dome● to be Monck●  many Kings and Princes have testified by forsaking their Sceptres and Princely palaces, and stooping to a poor cottage, and a course garment, and professing that they found more contentment and far truer happiness in that kind of life, than they ever did in all the honour which the world doth so foolishly admire. And among the rest, we have a rare example hereof in Sa●tocopius, 
Santo●opius K●ng 〈◊〉 M●●auia.  King of Moravia, in the year 900. who having been defeated in a battle against the Emperor Arnulphus, forsaking his kingdom be took himself into the Wilderness, where finding certain Monks in the mountain Sain●●, he put himself into their company, lived with them some years in a Monastical habit unknown▪ what he was, and gave himself to much fasting and watching, and other austerities. When he drew towards his end, he called them altogether, and declared who he was; giving this glorious testimony of a Religious course, that having had trial both of it, and of the life of a King, he found that without comparison a Religious life was to be preferred. For here (saith he) I have slept quietly without any fear at all; here roots, and herbs, and a cup of cold water hath savoured far sweeter to me, than all my Princely dainties did before; for they were continually mingled with much gall and bitterness of care and danger, and consequently this small time that I have lived amongst you, hath been to me far more happy, than all the time I lived floating in pleasures; and have learned by my own experience, that that life compared wi●h this, is rather to be called death. This was the judgement of that King at his death.   

Of the Power of judicature which Religious men shall have. CHAP. XVII.  
ALL worldly command and dignity endeth with this life; but Religious people have many prerogatives in this life, and shall enjoy many more in the life to come; among which we must reckon, that in the latter day they shall sit with Christ in judgement, to give favourable sentence upon them, that shall stand at the right hand, and a terrible sentence upon them, that shall stand on the left. And to the end we may the better understand the greatness of this Prerogative, 
The day of judgement a terrible day. Sophonias 1.24. Io●l 2.  we will consider somewhat of the horror and terribleness of that day, of that day, I say, which the Prophet Sophonias describeth in these words: The great day of our Lord is at hand; it is at hand, and very swift. The voice of the day of our Lord is bitter; there the strong shall be afflicted. That day, a day of wrath; a day of tribulation and anguish; a day of calamity and misery; a day of darkness and mist; a day of clouds and whirlwinds; a day of the trumpet, and of the sound of the trumpet. In which strain the Prophet joel doth also speak, when terrified, as it were, with the presence of that day, he saith thus: Let all the dwellers of the earth be troubled, because the day of our Lord doth come; because the day of darkness and mist is at hand; the day of clouds and whirlwinds. For the day of our Lord is great and very terrible, and who will abide it? S. Gregory doth ●ightly make a conjecture of the terribleness of that time, by that which happened at the entrance of the Passion of our Saviour, when with one mild answer of his mouth he struck all his armed adversaries to the ground; What therefore, saith S. Gregory, will he do when he shall come to judge, seeing he stonned all his enemies with a word, when he came to be judged? What judgement will that be, which he will exercise being Immortal, seeing no man could withstand his voice, when he was yet mortal? who will be able to abide his wrath, when his very meekness was not to be abidden? Wherefore at such a time when all the men of the world shall be appalled, and stand amazed with fear, and sorrow, and expectation of the rigid sentence of such a judge, then in that general vexation of all men, to be without fear and trouble, and attend that last and irrevocable decree and sentence with joy, must needs be an inestimable and excessive benefit.  

S. Io. Crisost h●●de c●m. regis etc. more.  2. S. john Chrisostom saith, that Religion affordeth this benefit; for first in this life it filleth a man with all good things; and secondly in the life to come it presenteth us before the Tribunal of God, joyful and sporting, when the Princes of the earth, whom before all men adored, shall be severely punished for their offences. S. Bernard fitly applieth to the same effect that, which is said in the Psalm: 
S. Bernard for 3 qui habitat. 1. Tim. 6.9.  Because he will deliver me from the snare of the hunters, and from the bitter word. He saith, that this snare is that, which the Apostle speaketh of, when he saith: They that will be rich, shall into temptation, and into the snare of the Devil; and that the bitter word, is the last sentence in the day of judgement; And turning his speech to his Brethren, he speaketh thus: You that have forsaken all, and followed the Son of man, who had not where the lean his head, rejoice, and say: He hath delivered me from the snare of the hunters. Praise him with all your hart, all your soul, all your strength; and from the very bottom of your hart give him thanks, saying: because he hath delivered me from the snare of the hunters. And that you may know how great this benefit is, and understand the things which are given you by god, hearken what followeth: And from a bitter word. O man, or rather beast that thou art, didst thou not fear the snare? at least stand in awe of the hammer; From a bitter word; 
Esay. 16. 〈◊〉 7●. Ma●h. 25.  What is this bitter word but: Let the wicked be takes away, that he see not the glory of God? Go you accursed into eternal fire. But you, my Brethren, you that have wings, before whose eyes it is in vain to cast the net, you that have forsaken the wealth of this world, why should you fear a bitter word, seeing you have been delivered from the snare? For to whom shall it be said: Go you accursed into everlasting fire; for I was hungry, and you gave me not to eat? To whom, I say, shall this be spoken, but to them, that had wealth in this world? Are not your hearts much rejoiced at this word, and filled with spiritual contentment? do you not value your Poverty far beyond all worldly treasure, in regard it is your Poverty, which freeth you from this bitter word? For how can we think that God will require at our hands that, which we have forsaken for his love? All this is of S. Bernard.  
3. Wherefore, if this happy course did bring no other commodity to Religious people, but that at that time, when other men whither away for fear, 
Luc. 11.26.  and expectation of the things, which are to come upon them, they exalt, because their redemption approacheth; this one thing were benefit sufficient to make a man think all the labour and crosses, which he endureth, very well bestowed. But there is yet another thing which giveth Religious men far greater security, and addeth also a far greater dignity; to wit, that in the power of judicature, which Christ hath received from his Father, 
Religious men shall be judges of secular people.  they have their part and place; and are not to stand at the Bar to be judged, but to sit upon the Bench to administer justice.. Which is so high a prerogative, that it could not possibly come into the thought of any man to be so bold as to hope for it, nor yet scarce to believe, that such a dignity should be cast upon him, but that He, that doth prefer him unto it, can do ●● things, and cannot fail of his promise. What therefore can be more welcome to a Religious man, then to behold the form of this assignment, 
Math. 19.28.  and promise▪ Amen I say unto you, that you, that have forsaken all things, and followed me, in the regeneration, when the Son of man shals●, you also shall sit upon twelve Seats judging the twelve Tribes of Israel. Where naming the twelve Tribes of Israel, he doth not understand only the people of the jews; but in a phrase, in which the Scripture is wont to speak, he ● m●r●hendeth all the Kingdom of God, and all the Faithful. And by the word (you shall sit) first he giveth us to understand the office of a judge; secondly the security, and eminency of dignity above the rest; and lastly a place of sitting near unto Christ our judge.  
4. And it must not stumble any man, that he maketh mention only of twelve Seats For as S. Augustin (answering this very objection) well observeth, 
S. A●g in Ps. 86.  there is a mystery in those words, and by that certain number of Twelve, whatsoever other greater number is to be, understood. For if there must be precisely but twelve Seats, and no more, S. Paul, who is the thirteenth Apostle shall not have where to sit, and consequently shall not be able to judge; and yet he saith of himself, that he shall judge, not only men, but Angels. 
1. Cor. 6.3.  Not only therefore (saith S. Augustin) the twelve Apostles and S. Paul, but as many as shall judge, shall have place in the twelve Seats, by reason of the Universality, which the word doth signify. And this which S. Augustin saith, is grounded upon good reason. For (as the tenure of the promise of our Saviour doth found) the only cause, why this power and glory was conserred upon the Apostles, was, because they had forsaken all, and followed him: wherefore all they that have done the like, and forsaken all worldly wealth, & foregoing the hopes and desires thereof have put themselves into the school of Christ, shall have ri●ht to the like reward & promotion. For, that the Apostles followed Christ when he was present with them, and Religious people follow him now he is not present, doth not diminish the value of their faith and service, but doth rather increase it For they had many motives thereunto, which we have not, as miracles wrought before their eyes, the sweetness of his dillie conversation, and of his doctrine; whereof S. Peter speaking in the name of the rest, 
Io. 6.  said: Lord, to whom shall we go? thou hast words of life everlasting.  
6. Neither is the merit ever a whit the less, by reason that they were immediately subject to our Saviour; we subject ourselves to another man that beareth his place. For now also they that subject themselves in this manner, subject themselves to Christ, whom they acknowledge and reverence in the person of that man; and if we value this business by the faith and fidelity, which is practised in it, perhaps it is the greater act, not only to obey a Prince when he delivereth his own commands himself, but also to obey his meanest officers and ministers commanding in the Prince his name. Wherefore though doubtless this action was performed by the Apostles with greater virtue and charity, as having the first fruits of the Spirit bestowed upon them: yet if we regard the fact itself, we do the same thing that they did, and for the same end, and upon the like motives as they did. Insomuch that S. Bernard doth not stick to glory both for himself, 
S. B●●. ●●●ng.  & us, that we all have made procession of an Apostolical life, all of us are enrolled in the same Apostolical course. Which is not to be thou●ht to be spoken of the eminent sanctities which they descrued to rec●●ne for themselves and for the whole world, as the Psalmist doth intimate in these words: Let the ●●●s receive peace for the people, and the relics justice: but of the profession, which S. Peter made in behalf of them all saying, Behold we have forsaken all, and followed thee. Whereunto we may add, that as the Redemption of Mankind was the proper work of our Saviour CHRIST, 
Es. 9.6.  in which respect he is called the Father of the world to come; so it was a prerogative properly belonging to himself to be judge of the world, 
Io. 5.12.  because the Father judgeth no man, but hath given all judicature to his Son. And consequently the same our Lord having been pleased to associate the Apostles to himself in so great an Office, as was the Redemption of Man, and not howsoever, but by means of the same poverty, and humility, and sufferings, as himself did undergo in this life; it belonged to the same his goodness, and also in a kind of equity it was reason that he should communicate his honour with them, that did share in his labours.  
6. Now certainly Religious people have their share in labouring with Christ, and have always had; for as we shall show more at large hereafter, there have been at all times some Religious men that have assisted the Church of God very much, 
Religious men have laboured much in the Church of God.  even among the Orders of Monks, and much more in later Ages, since by special instinct of God Religious Professions have been directed as well to the help of others, as for their own salvation. And though there be in the Church abundance of other Workmen also, who instruct the people, and assist them with no small pains and labours, for which they are highly to be commended; yet set Religious people aside, and where shall we find that Euangelical Poverty, which is so perspicuous by possessing nothing, as they may worthily say: 
S. Th●opuse. cont. vetra. ar. rel. c. 6. & 7.  Behold, we have forsaken all things. S. Thomas delivereth, that the Order of Bishops how soever it was most certainly instituted by our Saviour Christ, yet it was not instituted with that circumstance of possessions, and wealth, and external splendour; but rather he gave them instructions how they should be poor, 
Luc 10.  when he prescribed that rule: Carry not a satchel nor a scrip, and the like, but riches were afterward admitted-of by the indulgence and dispensation of the Church, times so requiring. And this which S. Thomas saith of Bishops, is true of all the rest of the Clergy that minister in the Church. Whereby it is apparent, that this rare virtue, to which our Lord hath promised so great a pre-eminence in the latter day of judgement, is not only truly found in Religious men, but in a manner is only in them, because they alone have forsaken all things.  
7. But because this honour is so great, and this promise so honourable, that the straightness of our hart can hardly conceive it should be so; let us settle this distrust by the authority of holy Fathers, who understanding this saying of our Saviour in the right sense, have upon this title taken occasion to enlarge themselves much in commendation of Religion. 
S. Greg. 〈…〉 ●n Iu●●an.  S. Gregory Nazianzen in his Oration against julian the Apostate, among other praises of a Monastical life, reckoneth also, that they are to sit upon Thrones to judge. S. Hierome in a certain Epistle of his saith: 
S. H●●r Ep 28.  It is proper to the Apostles and Christians to offer themselves to God, and, casting the mites of their poverty with the widow into the Treasury of the Church, to deliver all the substance which they had to our Lord; 
Mar▪ 12.2.  and so deserve to hear: You shall sit upon thrones judging the twelve Tribes of Israel. S. Augustin (an approved and sure Author) saith the same: They that have not followed (saith he) that great and perfect Counsel of Perfection, of Selling all, and yet keeping themselves free from damnable crimes, 
S August. Epist. 89.  have fed our Saviour in those that are hungry shall not sit on-high to judge with Christ, but shall stand at his right hand to be judged in his mercy. And contrariwise S. Augustin held it so certain, that Religious people are to sit in judgement with our Saviour, that in the same Epistle he reprehendeth some of them that were over-haughtie in bragging over the lower and more imperfect state of Secular people, in these words: Let them walk the way of Perfection, selling all, and giving it out of charity to the poor. 
S. August. ibid.  But if they be truly the Poor of Christ, and gather not for themselves, but for Christ, why do they punish the weaker of our Saviour before they have received their seats of judicature? For if they are to be such, as to whom our Lord speaketh, when he saith: You shall sit upon twelve Seats, judging the twelve Tribes of Israël; and of whom the Apostle saith: Do you not know that we shall judge the Angels? 
Lu. 16. ●●  let them prepare to receive into the eternal mansions rather virtuous then wicked rich men, by whom they were made friends by the Mammon of iniquity.  
8. S. Gregory doth often deliver this doctrine. 
S. Greg. 10. moral.  For in the latter end of his tenth Book of Morals he discourseth thus: Then the wicked shall see with their eyes, that they, who have forsaken all earthly things, shall be established in a heavenly power; of which Truth itself speaketh to the Elect: You that have followed me, in the regeneration when the Son of man shall sit in his Ma●●stie, you also shall sit upon twelve Seats, judging the twelve Tribes of Israël. Neither must we think, that heavenly Bench and Court shall have but twelve judges to sit, but by the number of Twelve, the whole generality is expressed; for whosoever spurred-on with the love of God, shall leave his possessions, shall doubtless obtain a high seat of judicature, coming as a judge together with the judge; because in consideration of that judgement he punished himself here by voluntary Poverty. Whereupon Solomon saith of the Spouse of the holy Church: 
Proverb. 31.23.  Her husband is honourable in the gates, when he shall sit with the Senators of the earth. And the Prophet Esay: Our Lord shall come to judge with the Elders of his people. 
Esay. 3.14.  In which respect Truth doth term the said Elders not servants, but friends: Now I will not call you servants, but friends; such friends as the Psalmist beholding saith of them: 
job 15.15.  To me thy friends, o God, are very much honoured; and beholding the nobleness of their hart, and how they spurned at the glory of the world, 
Ps. 1; 8.17.  he presently added: Their principality is very much strengthened. And because we should not think them few that arrive to this height of Perfection, he saith further: I will number them, and they shallbe multiplied about the sands of the sea. And in an other place, speaking of a kind of foolishness, which is truly wisdom, he saith thus: They that perfectly follow this foolishness, deserve to hear from the mouth of Wisdom; You that have followed me, shall sit upon twelve Seats. 
S. Greg. 8. mor. c. 26.  Behold, they that forsake temporal things, purchase glory of eternal power. What therefore in this world is accounted more foolish then to forgo that which is one's own? and what is more honourable in Eternity then to come as judges with God?  
9 And in the same Work he handleth the same subject yet more copiously, where distinguishing the men that shall appear in the latter day of judgement into four ranks, 
Faure sorts of me● to appear in judgement.  he saith: Some shall come to be judged & perish, as wicked Christians; others shall not be judged and also perish, as Infidels, who sinning without law, shall perish without law; others shallbe judged and reign for ever, as good and faithful people; of the fourth kind of people, that shall not be judged and yet reign for ever, he writeth in this manner: They that by perfection of virtue go beyond the precepts of the Law; 
S Greg. 7. moral c. 20.  they that are not content only to fulfil that which the Law of God commandeth, but through a more elevated desire strive to perform more than the general Precepts do require of them; they to whom our Lord saith; You that have forsaken all, and followed me, when the Son of man shall sit in the seat of his Majesty, you also shall sit upon twelve Thrones, judging the twelve Tribes of Israel; These in the latter judgement are not judged and do reign, because they come as judges also with their Creator. For leaving all things, they fulfilled more out of a willing mind, than they had heard generally commanded. For that which was said to the youngman; 
Matth. 19  Go and sell all that which then hast, and give it to the peer; and thou shalt have a treasure in heaven; and come and follow me, was by special advice spoken to a few more perfect, not generally to all; for if it had been a general command binding all, it were a sin to possess any thing in this world; but it is one thing which holy Scripture commandeth all in general, and an other thing which is specially required of the perfect; and therefore with reason they are not subject to the general judgement, who in their life have ●one beyond the general Precepts. For as they are not judge and yet 〈◊〉, who by persuasion of Infidelity contemn the Law; so they are not judged and yet reign, who by persuasion of Piety have profited beyond the general commandments of the Divine Law.  

S 〈◊〉 in 〈…〉 Benedict●.  10. Venerable Bede (an approved and learned Author) is not to be omitted. He discoursing of this promise of our Saviour in S. Matthew, of which I have often spoken, saith in this manner: A just reward; that they, who for Christ contemned here the glory of humane preferment, should there, glorified by Christ, sit as judges in special commission with him. And let no man think, that only the twelve Apostles shall then be judges, because, after the fall of judas, S. Mathias was chosen in his room; as there be not only twelve Tribes to be judged: for else the Tribe of Levi, which is the thirteenth, should scape uniudged; and S. Paul, who is the thirteenth Apostle, should be deprived of his place of Indicature; whereas he saith: Do you not know that we shall judge the Angels? For we must know that all they, that according to the example of the Apostles, have left all they had, and followed Christ, shall come with him as judges, as all mankind is to be judged. For because by the number of Twelve in holy Scripture the generality is often signified, therefore by the twelve Seats of the Apostles the generality of all them that shall judge, and by the twelve Tribes of Israël the generality of them that shallbe judged, is expressed unto us.  
11. The testimony of S. Thomas in this matter (He being the chief of the Divines) must needs sway much. 
S. Thomas up 〈…〉 a 〈◊〉 ●. 6. & 7.  He therefore is so confident, that this power of judicature is promised to Euangelical Povertie, that upon the eminency of this reward he groundeth an argument to prove, how excellent a thing Povertie itself must needs be, and moreover teacheth upon the same ground, that Secular people ought to bestow their alms rather upon Religious people, then upon any others, to the end they may comply with the commandment of our Saviour; 
S. Antonine Ps. 〈◊〉 10.8.8.  because Religious people have power to receive them into the eternal Mansions. For (saith he) they shall be iud●es with Christ. S. Antoninus (another great Divine) is of the same opinion, and confirmeth it moreover with that saying out of job: 
job. ●●. 6.  He giveth judgement to the poor. 
S. Greg 16. moral 10  To which sentence S. Gregory addeth this reason, because (saith he) the more contemptible they were to the world through their great humility, they grew then to a higher preeminence of power, receiving Seats of judicature. We may add S. Anselm, 
S. Anselm Ep. 13.  who in one of his Epistles writeth thus: Our Lord counseleth those, that will be perfect, to leave all and follow him; he also promiseth those that do leave all and follow him, that they shall sit in judgement, judging the twelve Tribes of Israël. But S. Bernard doth both most eloquently and sweetly after his wont manner apply that of the Psalm to Religious men: 
Ps. 14●. 6.  Their judges are swallowed-up near unto the rock; delivering that they shall not only be judges with the Rock, 
S. Bernard form 8. Qu● habited.  which is Christ, but so upright, that laying aside all feeling of compassion, they will be at that time mindful only of justice, according to the example of the Sovereign judge himself, swallowed-up and wholly turned into a disposition of doing justice, and imitating therein the hardness of the Rock, to whom they are so nearly linked; having forsaken all other things, merely to follow and to cleave unto it. For this (saith he) is that which, when Peter asked what they should have, the Rock itself made answer: You also shall sit judging the twelve Tribes of Israel. O favour of familiarity! O height of honour! O privilege of confidence! O prerogative of perfect security! For what can be more dreadful, what can be imagined fuller of great anxiety and excessive care, then to stand before that terrible Tribunal to be judged, expecting the stil-uncertain sentence so rigorous a judge? As some men's sins, so doubtless some men's good endeavours are so apparent before the judgement, that as they waiting for their sentence sink instantly into hell by the weight of their crimes, so these contrariwise mount up without any contradiction, in full liberty of spirit, to the seats prepared for them. Happy is the voluntary Poverty, my Lord JESV, of those that have forsaken all, & followed thee. Doubtless a most blessed Poverty, which makes men so secure, yea so glorious in that so hideous a dissolution of the elements, so fearful a trial of deserts, so doubtful an expectation of judgement.  
1●. And elsewhere the same Saint discoursing at large & extolling the greatness of this dignity and preferment, 
S. Bernard s●r. Eccen●●.  giveth also the reason, why Religious people above all others are rewarded in this kind. For whereas (saith he) Poverty hath two incommodities, 
Why voluntary Poverty is rewarded with so great dignity.  which accompany it, to wit, contemptiblenes, and toil and labour, God hath with reason appointed, that in regard of their former labours, they should sit; in regard of the contempt they suffered, they should be endued with so great a power, that if a man were greedy of pleasure, he might thirst after that torrent of pleasures; if he were desirous of glory, he might rather aim at this true and incomparable glory; and therefore quiet without perturbation is promised us in the Seats, & pre-eminence of honour in the power of judicature. Upon which ground he enlargeth himself in declaring the glory of this promise, and how much this dignity doth overtop all worldly titles and preferments. What secular honour (saith he) can be thought of, which is not base in comparison of so great a pre-eminence? For they are to sit judges with Christ, not upon one city, or people▪ or country, but upon the whole world. They shall not only judge men, but Angels. They, I say, who disdaining and blowing aside the vapour of this present glory, which shineth for a while, have preferred the reproach of Christ before all titles of honour. Be not afraid, you little flock, because it hath pleased your ●●ther to give you a Kingdom. The decree is made, which shall not be void; the sentence stands unchangeable; finally your Lord hath sworn, and it will not repent him. Amen I say unto you, that you that have followed me, in the regeneration, when the Son of man shall sit in the Seat of his Majesty, you also shall sit judges. What can be more glorious? Let the Sonne● of Pride sit now with their King that hath chosen the side of the North; Let them judge, and be prejudicate. O unhappy ambition, which knoweth not how to aspire to great things, but seeketh to rise by trifles, and faileth of that which is great indeed! They love the first seats, which as untimely figs will quickly fall. They therefore that love the first seats, let them beware they fail not of the second; and they that choose to sit at board in the first place, begin not with shame to take the last. You shall sit, saith he, upon twelve seats, judging the twelve Tribes of Israel. These seats he foresaw, who said of the heavenly City: There sat Seats in judgement, Seats upon the house of David. There doubtless, not here. For this is the special glory of the Perfect, to be eminent even among the faithful, and to have precedency of judiciary power even before others that shall be saved, that according to the Psalm, they may sit upon the house of David. What misery is it, that man should be so negligent as to sleep when he heareth the word of so great a promise?  
12. Thus doth S. Bernard admire this prerogative of a Religious state; and withal that men being so greedy of vain and fickle and transitory honour in this world, seek not after this so true and so high a preferment, as to be companions with Christ himself the Son of God, in so noble and glorious an action, in the view not of one City or Kingdom, but absolutely of all men that are, or ever were, or shallbe, and of innumerable multitudes of Angels.   

Of the glory, which Religious people shall have in Heaven. CHAP. XVIII.  
THOUGH the glory of this action, of which I have discoursed in the precedent Chapter, be so great, that all Princely power and glory laid together, is no way●s to be compared with it; yet the glory, which Religious people shall enjoy in heaven, i● far above it. For their judiciary power is but temporal: their glory in heaven is eternal; the first is but an honour done outwardly unto them, this second is inwardly fixed in their soul; which we shall the better understand, if we consider, 
divers degrees in the bl●sse of Saints.  that (as Faith doth teach us) though the bliss everlasting of the Saints, be one thing in all of them, consisting in the clear sight of that Good, in which all good is comprehended, to wit, the unchangeable Essence of our GOD; yet there be diverse & very different degrees of seeing it; whereof S. Gregory speaketh in these words: 
S. Gregory 4. mor c. v●●.  Because in this life there is difference in our works, doubtless in the other there will be distinction of honours; & as one is above another in merit, so one shall surpass another in the reward. Wherefore seeing the inequality there, proceedeth merely out of the inequality here of merit in this life, if we show that the course of a Religious life in this world doth furnish them with far more commodity and plenty of merit here, it will be easily granted, that their reward there, must needs be far more plentiful also in the world to come.  
2. First therefore, 
More occasions of virtue in Religion then in the World.  this State doth afford far more abundant occasion of exercising virtue, than a Secular life, and of virtues more singular and more heroical. For in the world, a body seldom happeneth upon occasion of doing good, unless he be careful in seeking it: Religious people have daily occasions at home; for both their Institute, and their Rules, and their Superiors, and their Companions, all and every thing that is in house with them, ministereth them occasions of virtuous actions, and indeed thrusteth them upon them, and requireth them at their hands. And as the work of a carpenter or a smith, is wholly in wood or iron, because his art is in handling those materials; so the works of Religious people is Virtue, and they are all day employed in the inward and outward exercises thereof. Wherein not only our own desire and devout endeavour doth help us, but a kind of necessity of doing well, having tied ourselves to certain Rules & orders, which compel us in a manner sometimes to pray, sometimes to read, sometimes to employ ourselves in humble offices, sometimes in charitable actions towards our neighbour; so that, though we would not, we cannot but do well. And every day and every hour being full of these virtuous practices, it is easy to see to what a sum the reckoning will at last amount. To which purpose it is recorded that Aegid●us, 
Aegidius.  S. Francis his Companion, was wont to say: If the river of Tiber should have stood, and the water been stopped, which was wont to have his course; how would it have been swollen by this time? Not only so many years as it hath already had his course, but a few days would be enough to make it of a River a great Sea. The like we may say of Religious people continuing daily and hourly in virtuous actions, and day and night labouring to multiply them; what an ●ncrease of glory, & heap of crowns must they needs gather together at last?  
3. Povertie moreover is of itself a living fountain of merit, 
Povertie and Obedience.  by reason of the daily troubles and incommodities which it bringeth, the suffering whereof doth infinitely enrich a Soul. And Obedience is no less▪ the least and meanest kind of works being by means thereof oftimes more pleasing to God, then fair greater works undertaken of our own accord and fancy. A Religious life therefore consisting wholly upon Obedience; and all kind of actions, great & little, being ruled by it, our very diet and sleep and rec●●ation and such like, who will be able to say, to what an infinite treasure it will come at length? Palladius (a Monk, 
Palladius▪  and Register of the actions of ancient Monks which himself had seen) writeth of himself, that being troubled in mind as thinking with himself that he lead but an idle and unprofitable life in his chamber, he went to that famous Macarius of Alexandria, who (as he was full of the spirit of God) understanding his grief, said unto him: Answer thy thoughts, that for our Saviour Christ thou keepest the four walls of thy Celestina; giving us to understand, how meritorious the works of a Religious man are, when vacancy from all work for the love of God and for the performance of his will, is not to be accounted idle or unfruitful.  
4 What shall we say of the humility of a Religious course, which doubtless is a great glory unto it? 
Humility.  For the saying and promise of our Saviour must necessarily be fulfilled: Every one that humbleth himself, shall be exalted. Which if it be to be understood also of them that inwardly in their mind are humble, and think meanly of themselves, 
Lu●. 18 14.  much more doth it agree to them that are not only humble in mind, but have chosen an humble manner of living far from all pride and ostentation, persevering moreover in perpetual poverty, which in men's opinion is the basest and most disdaigneful state of al. It is reason therefore they should be exalted in heaven, seeing they have so much abased themselves here on earth.  

Religious 〈…〉  5. Our Saviour doth also put Religious people in good hope by this other saying: He that ministereth to me, let him follow me, & where I am, there let him be that is my minister. Now among the servants of Christ there be many differences. For as Kings and Princes have many subjects, and all of them owe some duty to him, but the name of the King's servant doth properly follow them, that live in household with the King, 
〈◊〉 12.26.  and are ready at a call and at a beck, and have no other business but the King's: So all Christians may be called, and are, the servants of Christ, but they that have left their own houses and possessions, and betaken themselves into the house of God, to attend wholly and only to his affairs, may most truly and most properly challenge this Prerogative.  
6. Whereof Religious people reap another commodity (which I have spoken of more at large before) to wit, that seeing the business which they handle is God's, and not their own; by occasion of the state itself in which they are, they may far more easily and the more effectually direct all their actions to God and good ends, in which the greatest part of our merit doth consist. For unless a man will be wilfully evil, and defraud his master of his service, as a naughty servant doth him of his money, and employ it in other uses; most of the works which a Religious man doth, of themselves do tend to God; others may be easily guided to the same end, with small industry and labour; which works God accepteth, acknowledging them to be done for his sake, and re●ards them with liberal reward; and being multiplied in that manner as they are, they must needs bring a man an infinite treasure and mass of glory in the l●fe to come. 
 Of which glory S. Basil discoursing, bringeth God, as it were, speaking to the voluntary Eunuches, such as have bound themselves to live chastely Vow, and saith thus: For a mortal name, I will give them the name of immortal Angels, which shall not be taken from them, they shall have heaven and the choicest part there ●f to dwell in, 
 to wit, my own house, and dwelling within my walls, they shall not only partake of the nature of the Ange●s, and of the glory of their perpetual succession, being themselves sufficiently able to found a succession of their own in the life eternal; but they shall have an honourable and an eminent place among the Angels, and a name which shall never sail in regard of the splendour of their rare virtue.  
7. S john Chrysostom speaking of the same glory in his third Book against the dispraisers of a Monastical life saith in this manner: 
S john Chrys●st. lib. ●. contra 〈◊〉 vi●. Mon.  What then shall we say? may not he be saved that hath a wife and household? First there is not only one way and means to be saved, but many different ways, which our Saviour giving us to understand saith, that there be many mansions in the house of his Father; 
Secular people the last in heaven.  and S. Paul when he telleth us, that one is the brightness of the sun, another of the moon, another of the stars: that is, others shall shine like the sun, others like the moon, and others like the stars. Consider therefore well what steps of honour and merit thou must leave above thee, if thou stoop from the greatness of the Sun to the least and lowest star. Thus speaks S. john Chrysostom, adding moreover that men deal their business in this kind but unworthily and with great disadvantage to themselves; in regard that if they aim at a place at Court, they will endeavour to get the best and most honourable, and be as near and as dear to the King as they can possibly be: but it being in their choice to be Courtiers and Soldiers of heaven, as he speaketh, they are never a whit sarrie nor grieved, if they light upon the last place, and be the very hindmost of al. And he repeateth the same in the latter end of his said Book, and endeavours to beat it into us, saying that though we were certain of our salvation, yet we should strive for the first place in heaven; as in all matches that are made, it is a shame to come behind. But Secular people, saith he, shall stand in the last place, supposing they be able to break through the rubs which the World doth lay in their way, which notwithstanding is very hard & difficult. Can there be therefore a foolisher thing then to choose to remain behind with the last, when a man may step-up so high, as to look the very Angels in the face? Thus speaks S. john Chry●●stom in that place. For in his other Treatise, where he compareth a Monk with a King, 
Idom H●m. de Mon. & Rege.  he saith further thus: After this life we shall behold a Monk taken-up glorious in the sight of all in the clouds, to meet Christ in the air, resembling his Captain, the beginner of this sovereign kind of life, and Author of all Virtue. But a King though he have governed his Kingdom with justice and integrity, shall notwithstanding have a l●sse degree of salvation, and less glory. And if he have not behaved himself well, who can express the misery which you shall see him endure, scorched with that fire, flayed with those whips, and punished with th●se torments, which neither tongue can declare, nor can in themselves be abidden.  
8. And we may add one thing more, which many learned men do auou●●; to wit, 
The Accidental glory of Religious people.  that Religious people shall not only enjoy an eminent place in the glory which is common to all, as we have declared, but shall have a particular Laurel or garland (as Divines do term it, and define it to be an Accidental joy added over and above the Essential reward) manifestly to be seen in some particular glory of their bodies, in testimony of some noble and heroical act achieved. As we see in commonwealths that are well governed; all are kept to their duty by certain general rewards and punishments; besides which general rewards for that which is good, there be contain peculiar rewards for heroical actions: as if a soldier had done any special exploit, besides his ordinary pension, he was anciently rewarded with a kind of Coronet, or Laurel, or triumphant Chariot, according unto the enterprise in which he had showed his valour; So in heaven, besides the essential reward due to all good deeds, there be certain honours, as we may call them, & particular recompenses for Virgins, and Martyrs, & Doctors, as having very eminently showed their valour, & gone away with singular victories over the Flesh, & the Devil, and Death itself. If therefore these three have their particular Coronets, or garlands; why may we not say, that Religious people shall have one also particular to themselves? seeing they embrace perpetual Chastity, as Virgins; and cease not to do great good to their Neighbour, as Doctors; and in regard of the many crosses they endure, stand in so near a degree to Martyrs, as I have showed; and though there were nothing else, have utterly set the World and all worldly things at naught, and lived perpetually in so great a contempt of it, as we see; which no man can deny but that it is one of the noblest and most heroical actions, which a man can perform in this life, and consequently may worthily deserve a singular reward, and, as the holy Scripture speaketh, every one of them receive from the hand of God a Kingdom of glory, 
Sap. 5.17.  and a dream of beauty.  
9 The greatness of this glory, which attends upon Religious people, hath been diverse times showed to many, and once in particular to a certain Novice of S. Francis his Order, and made great impression in him as in reason it might. The burden of Religion seeming unto him very heavy, and being moreover sorely tempted by the Devil, 
A notable Vision.  he was upon the point of yielding, and began to harbour unworthy thoughts of returning to the world, but was cured by this heavenly remedy. One night as he passed through the Church, bowghing his head and his body to adore the Blessed Sacrament as he went by it, in the very instant he was in a Rapt, and had this Vision: He saw a long rank of people passing by him clad all alike; their garments were white; their faces, & their hands, and feet, did shine like the sun; they went (as he thought) in great haste and joy to meet, and embrace, and entertain a certain guest, that was newly come among them. And being much astonished with this sight, he asked one of the company, what all this was; and it was answered him, that they were Franciscan-Friars that were going to accompany a certain man of their Order into Heaven, that was newly departed; that they themselves lined all of them in Heaven in great glory & happiness; and that the honour of that white garment was particularly granted them in lieu of the Habit of Religion, which they did wear on earth; the glory of their bodies for the incommodities, which they had suffered in it; of which glory he should be partaker, if he remained firm and constant in the course he had begun; which afterwards he easily effected, being so encouraged with this Vision, that he never after had any wand'ring thoughts at al.  
10. Which Vision doth put us moreover in mind of another happiness and particular joy, which Religious people shall have in heaven, by the concourse and meeting of many of the same Order and Religion together. For (as the tro●p, which this man saw, doth give us to understand) we must think, that in heaven there is a several distinct place for every Religious Order to be in, to which place all that are of the same Order do presently repair, so soon as they arrive in heaven, which cannot but give every one new matter of glory and gladness. For if in this world it be so joyful a thing to meet with our brethren, & converse with those of our own Order and Institute, in regard of the love which is betwixt us; there can be no doubt, but that in heaven this joy will be far greater, where our love shall be more servant, and all perfections of Nature and Grace more eminent, without any mixture of vice or imperfection; and withal most apparent to every one, beholding them before our eyes as in a cristal-glasse; which as they will excessively increase our love, so also the eternal sweetness of our loving conversation. Wherefore it is certain, that to be continually in that Blessed company, and ourselves to be a blessed part thereof, must needs be an infinite happiness, far●e greater than we here can either conceive or believe.   

Of the Antiquity of Religious courses; and first how they were prefigured in the Old Law. CHAP. XIX.  
WE are now to discourse of another kind of dignity belonging to a Religious state. For that, of which we have hitherto spoken, though doubtless it be the chiefest and most to be esteemed, as being founded upon the plenty and rareness of the Virtues which concur in it, the conjunction and similitude with God, and the rewards and honour, which in the life to come it expecteth; yet it is partly spiritual, and concealed within us; partly also not present, but long to come hereafter; and consequently the glory and splendour thereof lieth open only to the eyes of God, and to those, that having their souls enlightened with his sovereign light, are withal enabled to make a true estimate of these spiritual things; who certainly are but few, and in a manner none in comparison of the rest; 
Eccl. 1.  for (as the Wiseman saith) of fools, the number is infinite. Wherefore to the end that so rare and so excellent a thing should not be hidden from the most part of men, God hath enriched it with other graces and ornaments, so plain and conspicuous to be seen of all that the rudest sort cannot be ignorant of them. 
Matt. 5.  No man, saith our Lord, doth light a candle and put it under a bu●hel, but upon the candlestick, that it may give light to all that be in the house. And that which he said, he did, for he hath not placed this light of Religion in dens & caves of the earth, but in the public view of the world, into which he brought it, to enlighten the darkness thereof; and hath bestowed such high favours upon it, that it doth not only march side by side with the Nobility of the world, but goes far before it, even for the things which the world doth most of all esteem and prize. For wherefore is it that Families, and Cities, and whatsoever Companies or Corporations, are esteemed honourable in the eyes of men, but for the antiquity of their standing or descent, the number and worth of their subjects, their noble acts achieved, and derived to the notice of others by common fame, and such like other things, which, as I said, are in the world accounted glorious? Of all which a Religious state is so abundantly furnished that humane Pride hath not whereof to extol and beast itself, nor any thing indeed, which can be comparable to this true and solid Glory. Wherefore we will bestow some leaves in discoursing of these ornaments; and first we will speak of the Antiquity of Religion. For though so rare an excellency of eminent virtue was to be reserved to the times of the Gospel, 
Antiquity of Religion in figure. 1. Cor. 13.  and for the Son of God himself to bring down from heaven, those former Ages (which the Apostle compareth to the childhood of the world, because the Law brought nothing to perfection) not being capable of so much spiritual perfection, 
Heb. 7.  so rare virtue, I say, being to be reserved to the fullness of times, and grace bestowed upon us by CHRIST JESUS our Saviour, yet it is no small honour and glory for it, that it is so plainly and so expressly prefigured in the Old Law.  

●li●s.  2. First ●lias was a lively pattern of this course, living without wife, or children, or family, a chaste and single li●e, and continuing in it, in that poverty, that his garment is expressed to have been a belt of leather, 
4 Reg. 1.  and that he received his sustenance in a manner of alms, 
●. Reg. 17.  sometimes by a widow, sometimes by means of a crow. 
3 Reg. 15.  Eliz●us was one of his chief disciples, and resembled him most in the course of life which he had lived; 
Eli●aus.  and being invited by him to this form of Perfection, he presently forsook his father's lands and cattle which he was following, yea his parents, and household, giving Religious people so long-before a rare example, how courageously they are to forsake all these things for the love of CHRIST.  

4. 〈…〉  3. The Sons, as they called them, of the Prophets, were men that under the conduct and discipline of these two, which I have named, did profess and follow a more perfect kind of life than others in those days. For the miracles which Elizeus is recorded to have wrought at their request, in Healing of the waters, and in Sweetening the bitterness of the pot, and in Multiplying the bread which was to serve them all, doth sufficiently testify, that they were separated from the rest of the Children of Israel, and lived in Community together. And we may gather that they lived a single life, because we do not had any mention of any wife or children which they had, and indeed with them they could not have lived in common. Finally it appeareth sufficiently that they lived in Obedience; 
4 R●g 〈…〉  because as Elizeus returned from beholding the taking up of Elias into the air, they all meeting him, ●el down on their faces, and adored him as we find in holy Scripture; as it were, professing by this outward sign of reverence, that what Obedience they yielded before to Elias, the same they were ready to yield to him. Whereupon S. Hierome doth with reason style all those, 
〈…〉  which I have named, Monks of the old Testament; & in another place reckoning himself among them, he saith thus: Our beginner was Elias, Elezius was ours, our leaders were the Sons of the Prophets. And Isido●●e in his Book of Ecclesiastical Offices saith the same thing, almost in the selfsame words; and calleth Elias, and Elizeus, and the rest of the Prophets, Authors of Monks▪ with whom we may rank Cassian saying, 
〈…〉 c. 2.  that the beginnings of Monastical profession were founded by them.  

.  4. But none in the Old Law do more near and more plainly resemble Religious people, than the Nazareans; and all the whole Ceremony which was used about them. 
S. Gregory Nazianzen Orat in laudem S. B●s. S. Tho. 12. q. 186. a 6.  For which reason S. Gregory Nazianzen in the Oration which he made in the praise of S. Basil, doth call all Religious, our Nazareans. And S. Thomas delivereth, that the Nazareans, which were wont in the Old Law to be sanctified, did signify those that aspire to the height of all Perfection; and doth learnedly conclude thereupon, that a Vow is necessary to a slate of Perfection. They did therefore much resemble our kinds of Institute, in regard they were consecrated and sanctified to God, as we; and wholly dedicated themselves to the service of God, 
Num. 6.  obliging themselves thereunto by Vow. But we go far beyond them; because they most commonly stood not obliged for their whole life, but for some certain time, longer or shorter as they thought good; Our obligation is perpetual; They abstained from some certain things only; we wholly forsake all worldly things. But the laws, & ceremonies prescribed by God concerning them, representing in figure diverse Religious practices, do most apparently lay before us, both the likeness and the difference, which is betwixt them and us; and by the shadow of those carnal things, we may easily discover the perfection of this spiritual state.  
5. First therefore, 
The ceremonies of the Nazareans applied to Religious people. S. Hierom. Amos. 2. They drink no● wine.  they are most strictly observant in abstaining from wine, & cider, & whatsoever lickour that might make them drunk. S. Hierome taketh wine to be whatsoever may inveigle our understanding; to wit, the love of any earthly thing For as no man loveth drunkenness in itself, but the wine; which when he taketh overlargely maketh him drunk; & the pleasantness of it to our taste, doth draw us on to take largely of it; so there is no body that will willingly be inveigled, but it followeth by the use of earthly things, because it can hardly be, but that our mind and affection should cleave unto them. Religious people therefore to avoid this drunkenness which is so prejudicial, forsake lands and goods & all things, & use but very sparingly the things which are necessary for their sustenance, & have no dominion or power to dispose of them; which is to be most perfectly naked of all things. Where it is specially to be noted, that the Nazareans did not abstain only from wine, but from any thing that had any affinity with it, as vinegar, & whatsoever lickour that came of the grape, & from the grape itself, & all kinds of raisins, insomuch that they might not so much as suck the stalks of them. For in like manner Religious people by their very Insti●u●e have no communication not only with sinful things, but not with any that have any affinity or neernes unto them, or may be any inducement thereunto: for it is easy to be drawn from the stalk to the grape, from the grape to the wine, & from wine to drunkenness, that is, from lesser to greater things, & from things lawful to the unlawful; the nature of our Senses and appetite enticing us always on.  
6. The second ceremony of the Nazareans was, 
They cu● not their hair.  that the razor should not come upon their head, but that they should preserve their hair untouched; which doth evidently give us to understand, that Religious people are so wholly God's, and entirely consecrated unto him, that not only themselves, but whatsoever is in them, is holy and devoted unto him. For if the hair was accounted holy, which is least of all belonging to man, and least necessary; much more our tongue, and our hands, and the rest of our body, and most of all our Soul. To which purpose Origines saith very well: 
Orig. Hom. 6. in L●uit.  The Nazareans do not cutof their hair, because all things which the Just do, shall prosper, and their leaves shall ●●t fall. Therefore also the hairs of the heads of the disciples of our Lord are said to be numbered, that is, all their works, all their speeches, all their thoughts are layd-up in the sight of God, because they are just, because they are holy.  

They touch no dead body.  7. The third law, which they were to observe, was that they were not to accompany any dead body, not so much as their own fathers or mothers, or brothers or sister's corpse, lest they might be defiled. A man might doubt, who are to be understood by dead bodies, but that our Saviour himself hath declared it unto us. For speaking of secular people to one, whom he desired should follow him, 
Matth. ●.  he said: Suffer the dead to bury the dead; but thou come and follow me; now the dead, whom this man would have buried, was his father. In Religion they that follow it, do utterly abandon and forsake the world first of all, which is chiefly understood by the dead; secondly they forsake all flesh and blood, the too much love whereof must needs defile our souls; but they have no communication with it any more, by which means they easily preserve themselves pure and unspotted.  

The Sacrifices of the Nazareans.  8. Fourthly, when the time of their Vow was expired, they were brought to the door of the Tabernacle, and there were to offer three sorts of Sacrifice●, to wit, for their Sin, a Peace-offering, and a Holocaust. With us, the term of our service, and of our life, are both one; when our life endeth, our Vow expireth. Then we are presented at the door of the Tabernacle; of that Tabernacle, I say, in which God hath his dwelling, and into his glory we are translated to receive the abundant reward of our long service. The state itself of Religion affordeth us a triple offering: A Holocaust, because by it we are wholly offered to God, nothing at all reserved; A Peace-offering, because there is no better way than Religion, to have peace with him, and plenty of his favours; A Sacrifice for our sin, because though we may have been somewhat negligent in our life-time, the force and virtue of Religion, and the abundance of good works performed in it, will easily blot that out. Whereupon also it followeth, that the hair which is cutof, is cast into the fire as a compliment of the Sacrifice; into that fire, I say, in which the Sacrifice itself is burnt and offered. For to what purpose may we think this is? to give God contentment by the noisome smell of the burning hair? No, but it giveth us to understand, that the smallest actions of Religious people are exceeding pleasing to God, because they are offered in the fire of Charity, which fire the State itself doth kindle; which is then most of all to be seen, when, the evening coming, the workmen are called to receive their hire. Wherefore seeing the Nazareans and the Religious people resemble one another so near, yea seeing Religious people do so far surpass the Nazareans of-old; how can we doubt, but that, as the Nazareans in the Religion of the jews had the chiefest place of esteem, so Religious people ought to have it among us?  
9 Howsoever, we may truly and with far more reason say of our Nazareans then of those of-old, 
 those words of the Prophet Hieremie: More white than snow, more neat than milk, more ruddy than ancient ivory, more beautiful than the Sapphire. Which place S. Gregory doth fitly apply to Religious people, 
S Gregorie ●2 〈◊〉 ●. ●7.  telling us, that their life is said to be more white than milk or snow; because by the snow, which comes from above, we may understand good and godly men; by milk, which springeth from flesh, we may understand them that dispense earthly goods uprightly; but a Religious state excels them both. And because by ●eruour of spirit they seem sometimes to go beyond the life and conversation of the ancient and heroical Fathers (for ivory is a bone of a great beast) therefore the Prophet saith, more ruddit then ancient ivory. Finally, because by their heavenly conversation they surpass many that have gone towards heaven before them, they are said to be more beautiful than the Sapphire; for the Sapphire is of an airy colour. Thus saith S. Gregory.  
10. Wherefore as a Map of a Palace or of a gardin is pleasing to the eye, not in regard of itself, but in regard of the Palace or garden which it representeth; and the things themselves when they are perfect, do much more delight than any perfect delineation of them; so seeing we find, that that draught, as I may call it, of those ancient Nazareans being but a shadow of our Religious people, was so highly pleasing to God; how much more pleasing must these our Institutes needs be unto him, wherein there is such solid perfection of all Euangelical Virtue? And consequently in the E●angelical Law we may with much more reason, than they could in those days, in a manner glory, and proclaim it to all Christians and to the whole Church as a singular benefit, that which we find in the Prophet Amos: 
Amos. 2.  I am he that made you ascend from the land of Egypt, and raised Prophets of your sons, and Nazareans of your youngmen. For so great a work, and so holy a conversation (as we have said before, and may often repeat) cannot be begun, but by the hand of God, nor continued without his help.   

That a Religious state was instituted by our Saviour himself; and first in his Apostles. CHAP. XX.  
NOW if we will search into the beginnings of a Religious state, and value, as it were, the nobility by Descent, we shall find the pedigree thereof to be more noble, and more illustrious, then of any thing else. For it began not by man nor by humane means, but from the Son of God himself, in whom are all the treasures of wisdom, and knowledge of God; and among other documents of Salvation he left this form of life so much the more clearly and carefully expressed, 
Only Heretick● call this in question.  both by word & example, by how much it is more perfect: whereof I find no body but Heretics to make any doubt at al. Heretics indeed both ancient and new (and among the rest that wicked Wickles) do clamour and urge very hotly, that all this manner of life is a mere humane Invention. But it is clear without question on the other side, 
Waldens●s lib. de Sacrament. 〈◊〉. 9 cap. 13.  that Christ himself was the sole Author of it; and that by his advice, and voice, and authority it was first diwlged; whereof many have learnedly written, but more largely than the rest, Waldensis, a grave and principal Divine, and later than he, Clitonans in his Book of Monastical Vows. 
Clitonans lib. 5. cap. ●●   
7. But what need we call men to witness, having the authority of the Ghospels' clear for us? for whereas Religion consisteth of the three Vows, whereof I have often spoken, 
Matth. 19  we shall quickly find, that all of them were first brought to light by our Saviour. For of Chastity we have it from his own mouth, that there are Eunuches, who have gelded themselves for the kingdom of God; which saying cannot be understood of those who abstain from marriage merely voluntarily, and out of a single purpose or resolution of their mind; for having it still in their power to make choice of the state of marriage, when they list, they cannot be called Eunuches; they only therefore are deciphered unto us in these words, who have utterly cutof all power of this kind from themselves by a perpetual and solemn Vow, such as Religion obligeth 〈◊〉 unto.  

Povertie.  3. And as for Poverty, in what terms could he more plainly and more effectually commend it unto us, then when he said: Unless a man renounce all that he possesseth, 
Luc 11.  he cannot be my disciple? or when he prescribed his Disciples this rule: 
Luc 10.  Possess neither gold nor silver; and bids them carry with them neither bag nor scrip.  
4. He instituted Obedience when he said: He that will come after me, let him deny himself. 
Obedience.  For by this denial of one's self, Doctors do generally understand the Vow of Obedience; and (which is of more weight) the Council of Sens (as appeareth by a Decree thereof) doth construe it to the same effect. 
Luc 9  And our Saviour having thus severally upon occasion given us these documents, 
Conci●ium S●nense d●crit. 9  he doth as it were jointly commend them all unto us, when to the youngman, that came unto him and asked him how he might come to Life Everlasting, 
Matth. 29.  he giveth answer in these words, which three Evangelists do relate almost word for word alike, 
Marc 20.  laying before our eyes (as S. Augustin averreth, 
Luc 18.  and all learned men after him) a most perfect pattern of a Religious vocation, 
S August. Ep●s●. 89.  & a draught of that, which daily happeneth in Souls, that are induced to embrace that kind of life.  
5. For first if we consider, that our Saviour beholding him, loved him, as it is said in the Gospel: what doth this signify other, then that so great a benefit is not given but to those whom God doth behold after a particular kind of manner and singularly love? That he telleth him, that One thing is yet wanting unto thee; and saith it to one, that from his very youth had always observed all the Commandments, doubtless he would edge him on with desire of Perfection, the beauty thereof being of itself wonderfully amiable. For as if an Image were so far begun, as that the head, and the breast, and the arms were most curiously earned, and the rest of the body not yet finished, the image itself, if it had sense and understanding, would grieve and desire, that it might be brought to perfection; so this young man, hearing how much he yet wanted, in reason he should have been so nettled within, that he could not have rested till he had obtained it. There followeth the Counsel, and form of Perfection, with the reward belonging unto it: Go and sell all that thou hast, and give it to the poor; and come and follow me; and thou shal● have a treasure in heaven. Naming All, he willeth him to reserve nothing to himself, but bereave himself absolutely of all things. Bidding him Sel all, he prescribeth a perpetual and irrevocable abdication and defeisance. Finally in those words, Follow me, he comprehendeth Obedience, and the rest of the Counsels. This therefore was the Counsel of our Saviour, clearly and expressly delivered by his own mouth.  
6. Which perfection, 
The Apostles the first Religious men.  though the young man foolishly rejected it when it was offered him by our Saviour, the Apostles, who were his first Scholars, admitted of it. For so do diverse very learned men deliver, to wit, that the Apostles were the first that ever received this kind of form of Religious Institute, and first put it in practice. And of the Poverty which they professed, there can be no doubt made, because we find it by that which is written of their practice in the Gospel; and S. Peter testifieth as much, 
Matth. 19  when in the name of them all, he saith: Behold, we have forsaken all things; which words declare not only their Poverty, but their Chastity also. For under the name of All things, doubtless their wives are also to be understood; and S. Hierome useth it as an argument against jovinian; 
S. Hierom● lib. 2. in jovin.  specially seeing (as he saith) our Saviour answering S. Peter, mentioneth wives among other things that were to be forsaken, insinuating that the Apostles had already performed that part. Whereupon S. Hierome concludeth, that they had wives before they knew any thing of the Gospel; but when they were chosen Apostles, they presently laid aside the use of them; upon which ground in an other place he saith, that the Apostles were all of them either virgins, or, having been married, abstained from their wives. Finally we may gather their Obedience from these words: And we have followed thee. For what is it to follow an other, but to live according to his direction, and to obey him in all things? Seeing therefore all these things are without question to be found in the Apostles, let us show, that they obliged themselves also thereunto by Vow.  
7. Besides other Divines, 
Aluar Pelag. lib. 2. cap 56. de Planct●● Eccl.  Aluarus Pelagius (a grave and learned Author) doth clearly demonstrate this point in the Book which he writ of the Complaint of the Church, and bringeth many arguments to prove it, but chiefly this, that a Vow, as he saith, is the Counsel of Counsels, and the soul and perfection of them; because whatsoever Counsel is confirmed by Vow, it is essentially the more perfect, and the more acceptable to God. From whence he concludeth, that if the Apostles had made no Vow, they could not be said to be in the top and height of Perfection; but the abdication of the selfsame things, which Religious people do daily profess, would be more perfect than that which the Apostles practised, in regard they oblige themselves by Vow: now it were temerarious, and wicked, and impious to think or say so of the Apostles. And he confirmeth it, because there can be no question, but that the Apostles did not only leave the possession of that which they had, but the will of having any thing; that they might truly say: They had forsaken al. But this will of having, cannot be forsaken, bu● by Vow; because we renounce not our will, as long as we may resume it again at our pleasure. We may add moreover, that certainly the Apostles did not forsake that, which they had, more unperfectly than the young man, we spoke of, had forsaken them, if he had followed the Counsel of our Saviour, and sold all; for our Saviour gave him the same Counsel, which the Apostles had already embraced: But he: that selleth all thing preserveth to himself no power or right at all over it; and consequently neither did the Apostles reserve any thing to themselves. S. Thomas doth clearly and solidly aver the selfsame, 
S. Thomas 2.2. qu. 88 ar. 4. ad 2.  to wit, that there is no doubt to be made, but that the Apostles did vow all things belonging to a state of Perfection, 
S. August. 27. the civet. cap. 4.  when forsaking all, they followed Christ. But S. Augustin doth most perspicuously and most learnedly of any other deliver it in these words: That poor man is raised from the earth above all rich men, and that needy man is extolled above all wealthy people from that dung, to sit with the Powerful of the people, to whom he saith: You shall sit upon twelve seats; giving them a Seat of glory in inheritance. For these Powerful people had said: Behold we have forsaken all, and followed thee. This Vow these most Powerful had vowed. So S. Augustin. Seeing therefore it is clear, that the Apostles observed Poverty, Chastity, and Obedience, and moreover that they did not observe them merely voluntarily, but obliged themselves thereunto also by Vow; why may we not acknowledge, that this height of Perfection is descended from Christ by them, and account them the first foundations of Religious Conuents? And certainly it was but reason, that so rare a course should be commended by their Dignity and Sanctity; and that they, who were to be the Masters and Doctors of the world, should not want this ornament, which in the glory of the Ghospels is so conspicuous.   

How Religious courses did flourish in the time of the Apostles. CHAP. XXI.  
THE Apostles having received of Christ our Saviour this form of sanctity, they instantly printed it in the hearts of the first Believers, 
Act. 2.3.  which were then tender and pliable to all good things, and apt to admit of whatsoever impression of the holy-ghost. Wherefore not only those Hundred and twenty persons, who remaining together in that Upper room (as it is mentioned in the Acts) made, 
Act. 4.32.  as it were, 
The first Christians vowed Poverty.  one body among themselves, embraced this Poverty, & nakedness of all things, and a life in common; but other Christians also of those days converted in Jerusalem by their means; of whom it is written: The multitude of Believers were of one hart, and one soul; and none of them called any thing his own of that which they possessed, 
S. Hierome Ep●stola. 8.  but all things were common among them. For as many as were in possession of lands and houses, selling them, brought the price of that which they sold, and laid it at the feet of the Apostles. And division was made of it to every one as he had need. That withal they made some Vow or promise, 
Act. 5.3.  not only S. Hierome and diverse others do testify, but that which S. Peter said when he reprehended Ananias, doth evidently show it: W●y, saith he, ha●● Satan tempted thy hart to lie to the holy-ghost, and defraud of the price of the field? Thou hast not lied to men, but to God. For if Ananias had been so liberal merely out of devotion, and out of a forwardness of a frank disposition, wholly free and disobliged; neither could he have been said to have lied to the holy-ghost, nor certainly deserved so grievous punishment.  
2. Wherefore S. Hierome faith right well of that Age: 
S. Hierome in Scriptor. Eccles. in Philona.  The Church of the first Believers was such as Monks now adays desire and endeavour to be, that no body have any thing of his own, none be rich among them, none poor; they divide their patrimony among the poor, attend to Prayer, Psalms, Doctrine, and Continency; such as S. Luke relateth that the first Believers were in Jerusalem. So that in those very beginnings, they that aspired to this perfect form of a Religious life, were greatly increased and multiplied, living also apart from company of the rest in one certain place among themselves, under the government and obedience of some one. 
Cas. lib. 1. cap. 5. & col. 18. c. 5.  Whereupon Cassian writeth that the life of those that live in common, descendeth from the times of the Apostles preaching; when many out of the love of Perfection, not contenting themselves with that which all did, to wit, to lay all they had in common, but aiming at higher things, began to withdraw themselves into more private places out of the town; and because they abstained from their wives, and from the company of their kindred, and from all worldly conversation, they were called Monks by reason of their solitude, and Conuentuals by reason of their living in common.  
3. Which perfection rested not only in Jerusalem and Alexandria, 
Religion spread over the world.  but spread itself also at that very time into other parts of the world. For we find that in Aethiopia the King's daughter was consecrated to God by S. Matthew Thecla, by S. Paul in Greece, Domitilla at Rome by S. Clement, and in France S. Martha (she that was our saviour's hostess) after the Gospel was preached at Marsells, is recorded to have built a Monastery in a solitary place retired from the company of men, where together with diverse women of worth consecrated to God, she lead a most heavenly life. And finally S. Denis (a man that lived in that first Age) writeth of this kind of Institute, 
S. Denis de Ec Hierar. c. 10.  as of a thing usually received and practised; and by that which he saith of it, he giveth us to understand, not only that it is very ancient, but also that even in those days it was highly reverenced. 
The names and Ceremonies of Monks in the Primitive Church.  For this reason, saith he, our Divine teachers have given them names which sound of holiness: some calling them Worshippers, others calling them Monks, for the sincere worship, and service which they do to God, and for their solitary and single life, which maketh them One, and apt to attain to Union with God, and perfection pleasing unto him, by holy conjunction of things divided. And then goeth-on to declare the Ceremonies and Rites anciently used in the Consecration of Monks, and the reasons and mysteries of them. For first, he saith, it was the order that the Priest standing before the Altar should say some prayer suitable to the Ceremony they had in hand; and when the prayer was ended, turning himself to him that was to be admitted, he asked him: whether he were indeed resolved to renounce his secular life (which, as his manner is, he calleth a divided and distracted life, because it forceth a man to be solicitous, and troubled about many things) and separate himself from the very sight of it, betaking himself to an other place. Then proposing unto him a most perfect form of living, he gave him to understand that from thence forward he was to surpass in conversation, both the vulgar and middle sort of men; which shows how perfect this kind of course it, seeing (as he saith further) it is not ranked in the middle rank of them that aim at Perfection, but with the highest and most perfect; so that many things may be done without blame by them that are of the middle sort, which Monks are forbidden, because their business is to draw themselves as near as they can and unite themselves with God. When he that was to be consecrated had promised all this, the Priest making the sign of the Cross upon him, did cutof his hair in the name of the Blessed Trinity, and stripping him of his garments, gave him others to put on; and himself and others that were present saluting him, and giving him joy, at last he gave him the Divine Mysteries, that is, the holy Communion and most blessed Sacrament.  

The signification of these Ceremonies.  4. This is that which S. Denis relateth; and addeth withal the explication of all the Ceremonies. For the cutting-of his hair (saith he) did signify, that laying aside all humane and earthly ornaments, and from that time forward despising them, he was resolved to seek to please God by the sole beauty of his soul. The changing of his garment, betokened the inward change of his hart and mind; and withal it was to put him in mind, that his life and conversation was to differ as much from others, as his Habit did from any vulgar wear. The saluting him, represented that which our Saviour said: that there should be joy in heaven of one soul converted to God; 
Luc. 15.  for the like joy and gladness doth happen also to them that on earth do endeavour to imitate God. Finally the receiving of the sacred Body of our Saviour, doth put us in mind of the end, for which such holy courses are taken; to wit, a most perfect and inward conjunction with that Infinite Sanctity, the fruit of Divine association, 
The particulary anciently practised by Monks.  which he was to reap by Monastical exercises. Thus far S. Denis And I doubt not but whosoever in his hart doth love a Religious course, will be willing to hear the particulars of the beginnings thereof, and as it were behold with his eyes, how full of devotion and fervour they were; and it will not be from our purpose to relate them, because they will much confirm the Antiquity of Religious Orders, which is the point we handle.  

Philo de sup. virt. S Hierome de Scrip. Ec●l. in vita Marci.  5. Philo (who is said to have lived in the time of S. Peter, and to have spoken with him at Rome) shall be our Author. He being (as S. Hierome writeth) the eloquentest of all the jews, wrote a book as it were in praise of his own Nation, which he entitled Of the Virtues of the Suppliants, styling them so, in regard they spent their whole time in supplications & prayer. And though the Book be yet extant, and easy to be had, I will notwithstanding coat that which is for my purpose rather out of Eusebius, 
Eusebius Eccl Hist. lib. 2. cap. 27.  a grave and ancient Historiographer, who taketh what he saith word for word out of Philo, and doth moreover give us some more light with apt interpretations which he addeth. F●r so we shall understand the thing better by the light which he giveth; and the authority of two such grave writers joined together will be the greater, Eusebius therefore having said something before in praise of Philo, and of the title of his Book, writeth thus: First he recordeth, that they, who did enter upon this kind of Philosophy, did forsake their possessions, and yeald-up the right of that which did belong unto them, and sequestered themselves from all the cares of this life, 
They renounce 〈◊〉 world.  and forsaking the cities, lived solitarily in the fields and gardens, persuading themselves for certain, that the company of them, that followed an inferior course of life, would be unprofitable and hurtful unto them, that at that time endeavoured in that course as they ought. When the aforesaid Philo had said thus word for word, he addeth: This kind of men is in many parts of the world dispersed (for it was fit that both the Grecians and the Barbarians should be partakers of so perfect a good thing) but in Egypt they abound in every Prefectship, as they call them, and most of all about Alexandria.  
6. Then describing the fashion of their dwellings, 
Their Churches.  he saith thus of the Churches of that Country. In every one there is a holy house, which they call a Monastery, where they remain celebrating the mysteries of holy life; and they carry nothing in thither, neither meat, nor drink, nor any thing that belongeth to corporal sustenance, but the Laws, and the Oracles of the Prophets, and Hymns, and other things of like nature, whereby knowledge & devotion is increased and perfected. And a little after he saith: All the time which is from morning to evening they bestow in exercise. 
Their exercises.  For reading the holy Scriptures, they discourse upon them, and handle their National Philosophy Allegorically. For they make account, that under the manifest sense of Scripture there be certain mysteries of hidden nature signified by the figures. And they have also Commentaries of ancient Writers, who, as they were principal men of their own profession, left many worthy Monuments after them in figure of things Allegorically delivered.  
7. He seems to speak as if himself had been a Scholar to them that expounded the holy Scriptures. 
Their Continency.  And it is likely that the Commentaries of those ancient Writers, which he saith they had, were the Ghospels and Writings of the Apostles, and some Expositions of the ancient Prophets, such as the Epistle to the Hebrews is, and many other Epistles of S. Paul. And much more he saith in that Book of them, of whom now we speak; but I have thought good to make choice of those things, by which he giveth us a scantling of this Ecclesiastical conversation. Thus therefore he writeth: Continency they place as the first foundation in their Soul, and upon it they build other virtues. None of them do either eat or drink before sunset. For they make account, that the study of Philosophy is worthy of the light, the necessity's of the body may be supplied in darkness; therefore they bestow the day upon the former, and a small parcel of the night upon the latter. Some of them remember not to eat in three whole days, as having a more earnest desire of knowledge then of corporal sustenance. Some of them are so delighted and over-ioyed with the food of Wisdom, furnishing them with abundance and plenty of documents, that they double this time of abstinence, and for six days together do hardly take any necessary sustenance. And he saith moreover, that there be certain women among these people of whom he speaketh; most of them ancient virgins, observing Chastity, not of necessity (as the Vestals among the Gentiles) but of their own accord for the zeal and desire of wisdom; and attending diligently thereunto, they contemn the pleasures of the body, desiring rather immortal children, which a Soul loving God may of itself bring forth, than any mortal offspring. What shall we need to say further, how they meet in conversation together, the men by themselves, and the women by themselves apart; and what their exercises be, which continue to this day, and are practised by us, specially about the Feast of the sovereign Passion, in fasting and watching by night, and in reading of the Divine words? which the foresaid Author hath carefully set down after the same manner, as with us they are hitherto observed, describing their exercises with the Hymns which we are wont to say; and how, while one sings a Verse, the rest hearken in silence, and make an end of the Hymn, singing the clause thereof all together with him. He addeth moreover, how they, to whom the Ecclesiastical functions are committed, do govern among them; which if any one desire to know more fully, he may read it in the foresaid History of this Author. So Eusebi●● out of Philo.  
8. And doubtless Religion continued the selfsame course and manner of living, not only in those first times of the Apostles, and Apostolical men, but three hundred years after, and more. For Tertullian, 
Tertullian. c. 20. q 1. co. Virg.  who lived next unto the times of the Apostles, wrote a Book of Veiling of Virgins, which is yet extant. And we find moreover to this day an ancient Decree of Pope Pius the First, made in the year of our Lord one hundred forty seven, of the Ceremony to be observed in the Consecration of Virgins; 
S. Ambr. de Inst Vir. c. 17.  which Ceremony S. Ambrose in his Book of the Institution of a Virgin, and Eusebius in the life of Constantine, do derive from the Primitive Church. 
Euseb. vita Const. l. 4.  And in the writings of most of the ancient Fathers we find often mention of Virgins, accustomed even in those days to be solemnly veiled and consecrated the Spouses of God; and they speak of it as of a thing very ancient, 
justinus Martyr in 2. Apolog. Clem. Alex. in 2. Stromatum.  and much used. As in S. justin the Martyr in his second Apology, which he wrote in behalf of Christians, S. Clement of Alexandria in his second Book of Stromata, in one of S. Ignatius his Epistles, who was disciple to S. john the Evangelist, S. Cyprian, and Origen and many others. Russinus and Theodoret do also relate, that S. Helen when she went to Jerusalem to seeke-out the wood of the holy Cross, 
Ignat. epist. ad Tarsen. Cyprian l. 2. epist. 11. Ruffinus. Theodores. S. Hierome.  found Virgins there consecrated to God. And S. Hierome in many places of his Works, but specially in the life of Malcus, whom he knew a very old man when himself was very young, doth often make mention of Monasteries, and Fathers of monasteries, and of the living of many Brethren together; Finally there is scarce one of the ancient Writers, in whom we shall not meet with certain marks, or rather with most evident testimonies and proofs, of this kind of course.  
9 If a man ask, whether the manner of living of Religious people in those ancient times were the selfsame which now is held; 
Religious Orders anciently the same, as now they are.  there is no doubt to be made, but that they are both alike, and altogether the same; and to deny it, were Heresy, or very near unto it. For in those days, they did not only profess Poverty, and Chastity, & Obedience to their Governors, as we have showed out of Philo, but all of them, or in a manner all, did oblige themselves by Vow; so as to go back from that state, was both unlawful and wicked. The difference was (if there were any) that those Monastical Vows carried not as then hat authority, or (as Divines do speak) had not that Solemnius which now they have.  
10. Besides that, in those beginnings it is more probable that they did make their Vows expressly and publicly; but Profession was so annexed to a Religious life, by the general acceptance and opinion of every body, that though by word of mouth they made no promise, yet they made account, that whosoever did enter upon that state, did oblige himself to profess it; much after the same manner, as I take it, as now adays the Vow of Chastity is included in the receiving of Holie-Orders: which we may gather out of a certain passage of S. Basil, 
S. Basil Epist. 2. ad Phil. cap. 19  where he saith, that they who did enter into the Order of Monks, did tacitly admit of a Single life. Which custom stood as long, as that ancient piety and bashfulness was sufficient to keep men in awe; afterwards it was thought more convenient (as S. Basil ordaineth in the same place) to exact an express promise of Continency; 
The obligation of the Vow of Chastity in ancient times.  but so as at first, if a man breaking his Vow had married, he had committed a great offence; yet his marriage held. In which kind S. Cyprian in his Epistle to Pomponius, and S. Hierome to Demetrias do speak of Nuns, advising them to marry, if they cannot live continently, as they had made Profession; because marriage by legal dispensation obtained of the Bishop, 
S. Cyprian lib. 2.  was at that time no sin. And we meet with the same advice in S. Epiphanius; and S. Augustin doth expressly dispute against those that denied the marriage of such people to be good marriage. 
Epist. 11. S. Hierome Epist. 8. S. Epiph.   
11. And whereas Pope Innocent the First, who lived in those times, and some Counsels do command, that such marriage should be broken-of, it is to be understood that they appointed (for the punishment of the parties) that they should not live together, which doubtless they might with good reason ordain; but they say not, 
Her. ●2. 1. Apostol. S. August. de Bono vid. c. 9 & 10.  that the marriage itself was not valide; and yet this punishment was not even in those days generally received and established in the Church. For Pope Leo the First, who lived little more than twenty years after Pope Innocent, 
Conc. Tolat 27. q 1. c. vidue.  teacheth that it was a sin to marry, but saith nothing of breaking the marriage. And Pope Gelasius, who sat in the year Four hundred ninety two, exhorteth such Nuns to resume the s●ate from which they were fallen, 
S. Leo Epist. 92. c. 24.  but doth not compel them, nor disannulle their marriages. S. Gregory himself, who was more exact in this kind than any of his Predecessors, in diverse of his Epistles and Decrees commanding such, 
Gelasius lib. 17 q 1. c. de vidual.  as were thus contracted, to be separated, and put into their Monasteries again; yet doth not say any thing which enforceth us to understand that their marriage was invalide. 
S Gregori● vid. c. 27. q. 2.  But rather we may gather, that their marriages did hold, by that which in one of his Homilies he relateth of his Aunt Gordiana, that having consecrated herself to God together with two of her sisters, 
〈◊〉 Hom. 31 in 〈◊〉  after their decease, forgetting (as he speaketh) the fear of God, forgetting all shame and bashfulness, forgetting her Consecration, took a husband, and lived ever after with him  
12. Wherefore the first (for ought we find recorded) that did not only forbid Religious people to marry, 
Innocent the Second first disannulled marriages of Religious people.  but make their marriages void, if they should chance to marry, was Pope Innocent the Second, in a General Council at Rome, in the year of our Lord. One thousand one hundred thirty nine. And yet if we search to the bottom of it, we shall find, that though this was at that time first of all decreed by general consent of the Church, and brought into universal practice, diverse Bishops notwithstanding had ordained the same before in their particular Dioceses; for we read in the Larger Rule of S. Basil, 
S. Basil. Reg fus. disp c. 14.  that he that having once consecrated himself to God, and obliged himself by Vow, did afterwards pass to an other kind of life, did commit sacrilege. And again in his Book of Virginity, 
I●em●n lib. de Viginitate.  he proveth the same at large, giving this reason, because as it is adultery and not matrimony to couple with an other, while the husband or wife liveth; so for one, that is already espoused to Christ who liveth for ever, 
I●on Epist. 2. ●an 6. & 18.  it is adultery to marry at al. Now that S. Bas●l first ordained and decreed this, is evident by that which he writeth in his Epistle to Amphilochius, where he saith thus: Because now by course of time the Church of God is made stronger, and the number of Virgins is increased, the marriage of Canons (that is, of Regulars) is to be disannulled, and they that are polluted therewith, are not to be admitted to the Blessed Sacrament, before they have cleared themselves of that crime.  

S. john Chrysost.  13. We find that S. Chrysostome doth write to the same effect in very weighty terms to Theodore a Monk that was fallen. And S. Ambrose in like manner to a Virgin that had forsaken her purpose; 
S. Ambrose.  If she will marry (saith he) as others do, she committeth adultery; she is made a slave to death. All which laid together doth prove, that Religious Vows did always make secular marriages unlawful; but the force which they have to make them void (which Divines term the Solemnity of the Vow) was by success of time brought in by degrees; and is a great ornament, and withal gives great strength and worth to Religious courses; so that they not only yield nothing to the ancient Institutes, but for matter of order and form have something in them, that is better and the more to be esteemed.   

How Religious Orders have descended to our times. CHAP. XXII.  
HITHERTO we have beheld, as I may say, the birth and younger years of Religion; and it cannot be but to our much greater contentment, to see it now in the perfect growth, and as it were in man's estate; to which, we may truly say, it came about the year of our Lord Three hundred and fifty, when in that Golden Age of Constantine, all parts of the Church of God began to flourish; and this not the least among them.  

 2. The principal Author of this so notable increase, was that great S. Antoni●, whom the wisdom of God may be said to have furnished with plenty of all heavenly gifts for this particular end. For it is evident, that before his time there were Monasteries and Religious people, by that which S. Ath●na●● w●iteth in his Life, that he began this spiritual warfare in Monasteries, under the conduct of others, and in company of them, by whose example an limitation, as ●e writeth, he endeavoured so to benefit himself, that he became more per●●● in virtue every day than other, and picked out of every one of them some spiritual profit, as bees do their honey. And still burning with desire of greater perfection, he attempted to transport himself and his disciples after him more inwardly into the Desert, and further from the company of men; and his sanctity growing conspicuous to the world, it made such impression and change in men's minds, through the example which he gave them, that the Deserts of Armenia, and Scythia, and Nitria, & of both the Thebais, and all Egypt was filled with Monasteries governed by his wisdom and direction, he being as it were a general Father of them al.  
3. We may well say, 
S. Hilarion.  that innummerable Monks and Religious people have been derived from this fountain of Monastical discipline, and among others that renowned Hilarion (an other S. Anthony in a manner) who, 
S. Hierome in his life.  as S. Hierome writeth, was the first Founder of Monasteries in Palestine, whereas in all Syria, there had not been a Monk seen before him. He (saith S. Hierome) was the Author and Founder of this Conversation in that Province; Our Lord JESUS had in Egypt old Antony; in Palestine he had young Hilarion. And by his example there began to be Monasteries without number, and every one did strive to come to him, to recave from him documents of heavenly conversation; which he perceaving gave the praise to the grace of our Lord, and exhorted every one to have regard to the benefit of their soul. Thus writeth S. Hierome of S. Hilarion.  
4. About the same time in Greece, S. Basil, 
S. Basil.  surnamed also deservedly the Great, without any relation (for aught I know) to S. Antony, but merely out of his own disposition and judgement, did wonderfully advance and set forward monastical Discipline, 
●p. 65.  himself being a professor of it. And we may see it by what he writeth of himself in one of his Epistles. We are accused, saith he, that we have men with us that follow their devotions, that have renounced the world, and all temporal cares; which cares our Saviour likeneth to thorns not suffering the word to bring forth fruit; they carry about them them mortification of JESUS in their bodies; and taking-up their Cross, they follow God. As for my own part, I would willingly give my life to have such injuries laid to my charge, and to have people with me that by my direction should have made choice of such exercises. I hear indeed that in Egypt there be men of such rare virtue; and perchance in Palestine they live directly according to the Gospel. I understand also, that in Mesopotamia there be perfect and blessed men. 
S Basil the first that wrote Rules.  But we are children in comparison of the Perfect.  
5. But it was not in number only that S. Basil advanced Religious Institutes, but much more by Rules and Constitutions. For whereas before him, there was no other certainty of their orders and manner of government, than what either the inward unction of the holy-ghost did inspire query one, or the Governors, whom they had chosen, would bid them do by word of mouth; S B●sil was the first, that drew certain Rules and orders, in themselves most holy, and most useful for the direction of that manner of Conversation. He appointed a time for Probation, at the end whereof they should all oblige themselves by Vow; he set down a certain method of living, as what exercises of virtue they were to perform, what they were to avoid as hurtful; he appointed certain punishments proportionable to the faults of the offenders; and ordered every thing with that wisdom and moderation, that they were not only presently admitted-of by all, and put in practice, but to this very day the Monasteries of Greece and of all the Eastern parts have no other Rule, but S. Basi●'s.  
6. He brought also an other thing to pass; to wit, that whereas before, all that did make profession of a Religious course, did attend only to themselves, and to their own private spiritual benefit, 
The first that brought Religious people to help their Neighbour.  and therefore of purpose did shun company, as an enemy to their desired quiet; he brought this Divine Philosophy as it were from the Third heaven, and planted it nearer cities and towns, that their Neighbour might reap fruit and commodity by it. S. Gregory Nazianzen doth clearly testify it of him in these words: To the end he might not only benefit himself but others, he first of all men thought of Monasteries, and brought that ancient and solitary fashion of living of Monks, 
S. Gregory 〈◊〉. de S. ●●sil.  to a certain method and order, nearer to Religion. For perceaving, that they, who lived among others in the world, though they were careful to observe a kind of Monastical abstinence, yet benefited others, and not themselves so much, because of force they must dwell in the midst of many evils, contrary to a quiet and perfect life; and on the other side, that they, who live far remote from company in the Desert, are more constant in their good resolutions, and more united to God, but yet are but for themselves, because they want experience, and have no communication at all with others; he laboured to join both these kinds of life in one. To which purpose he ordered the building of Monasteries not far from company, and would not have them wholly separated; that when Charity required, they might be at hand by reason of their neernes; and be otherwise confined within their own limits, to the end that company might not hinder their quiet; by which means they should neither be deprived of the employment which Charity towards others would call them unto, nor their employment again become unprofitable, by reason of the multitude, but one help an other; and the life of Monks become fruitful by conversation with them that live in the world; and they again learn quiet, and contemplation, and wisdom of the Monks; and be as the sea and the land embracing and helping one an other. All this is out of S. Gregory Nazianzen.  
7. At this time when the Grace of God was so plentiful in advancing Religious courses in Greece and in all the Eastern parts; 
Monks in the West.  we must not think that the rest of the world was deprived of this glory. For S. Augustin writeth that he saw a Monastery at Milan, 
S August. 1 conf. ●.  which S. Ambrose (as he speaketh) nursed up; and S. Augustin himself (as Possidonius relateth) did found Monasteries of men and women in afric, 
S. Anton. 3. p. tit. 24.14.  which many do think (& among the rest S. Antoninus) that they were of the Institute, which now adays we call the heremites of S. Augustin. For thus he writeth: S. Augustin, before he was Bishop, built a monastery in a wood near the city of Hippo; 
The Augustin triars, or Hermats of Saint Augustin.  which monastery both in his life-time, and after his decease grew to great greatness, and divided itself into many branches in the bordering cities, but after some years was by the In●●de, which the Barbarians made, dispersed; & some of the Religious came into Italy, others went to other places, till Innocent the Fourth, who was Pope in the year One thousand two hundred forty three, finding diverse other Herem●● dispersed here & there, called them all together, and joining them both in Habit and Habitation, incorporated them to the Rule of S. Augustin, and withal commanded them to live in Cities, that they might also benefit their Neighbour; which course his successor Alexander the Fourth did follow much more eagerly, being moved thereunto by a heavenly Vision, S. Augustin appearing unto him with a great head, and a little body; by which addition this Religion increasing daily more and more doth flourish, as we see this day, in the Church, and in the midst of the Cities keepeth the name of Hermits, which it had from the beginning, derived from the solitude, which it professed. But this happened much later; wherefore let us return to the times of S. Augustin.  
8. S. Hierome insinuateth, 
S. Hierome Epis●. 16.  that much about that time Religious courses were brought up to Rome, or rather notably increased there. For writing in commendation of Marcelia, he saith, that whereas before, the purpose of Monks was not known in Rome, and no body durst by reason of the novelty of it take upon him that name, which as then was, in the opinion of the vulgar, vile and contemptible; Marcelia having learned the manner of life of S. Antony yet living, and of the Monasteries of Thebais, by means of the Priests of Alexandria, that were in banishment for fear of Arius, was not ashamed to make profession of that which she knew was pleasing to Christ. And erecting a Monastery in a place without town, by her example there grew to be many Monasteries of Virgins, and an infinite multitude of Monks; insomuch that the multitude of them made that glorious, which before was contemptible.  
9 Upon these foundations Religion still grew more and more, and descended to S. Benedict his times, 
S. Benedict.  which was a little more than a hundred years after; and we may gather it by that which S. Gregory relateth of him, 
S. Gregory 2. 〈◊〉 c. 2. & 3.  to wit, that R●manus a Monk before him, brought him his meat to the den where he was retired; and that he was chosen Abbot by a whole Monastery, when the Abbot thereof was deceased, whereby we may see, that there were d●i●rs Monks in Italy before S. Benedict, where notwithstanding he is deservedly called the Father and Patriarch of of Monks, because he did raise Monastical discipline to so great a height of sanctity, and esteem of wisdom, that he may be in a manner said to have been the Author of it. For having begun his Order in Monte-Cassino in the year Five hundred and twenty (as we find recorded) he founded, as it were in an instant, twelve Monasteries in Italy, and out of them drew other branches into France by S. Maurus, into Sicily by S. Placidus, and by others into other places. And he did not only store Religion with an infinite number of subjects, but reform the Orders of it. 
S. Gregory 2. dis●. 3●▪  For he wrote a Rule which is yet extant and in practice, so full of wisdom, that S. Gregory speaking in commendation of it, calleth it very truly perspicuous in words, rare in discretion. Insomuch that as the East doth honour S. Basil, so the West doth honour S. Benedict, as the Author and Father of Religion.  
10. Out of this root, which he planted, diverse branches of several Families have sprung, embracing the substance of the Institute of S. Benedict, but reforming, or adding, or slightly changing some things, and differing somewhat from it. 
The Order of Clunie begun by Odo.   
11. The first and most ancient among them is the Order of Clunie, which was begun in the year Nine hundred and thirteen, by Odo Abbot of Clunie, and from him taketh the name. For the Institute of S. Benedict growing to decay, as all other things naturally do in time, he being eminent both in learning and holiness of life, endeavoured to restore it to the former perfection, and effected it. By whose example most of the Abbots of Italy, Spain, Germany, and England applied themselves to the reforming of their Monasteries with like success and fruit, and uniting themselves together, and concurring in one spirit, the authority of the Pope helping also thereunto, they had a meeting every year, wherein they advised and resolved upon such things, as might conduce to the maintenance of Religious discipline; and the change was so notable for the better, that it is observed, that there were two thousand Monasteries restored and reform.  

Camaldula.  12. A branch of the same Institute is the Order of Camaldula, founded by S. Romualdus: who about the year of our Lord One thousand, seating himself in the Mount Apennine, to the end there to follow a course of penance and Religion, made such a change in the hearts of men by the example and admiration of his sanctity, that (as we find recorded) it was thought, that the whole world would have become Religious, unless he had hindered it. And there were so many Monasteries built every where according to his Rule, that it may be in a manner accounted a new Order.  

Valle-●●●rosa.  13. The Order which is called of Valle-umbrosa had the like beginning and success, seventy three years only after that of Camaldula. john Gualbertus was the beginner of it; who not only pardoning his enemy, whom he ha● in his power to kill (in regard he besought him by the Passion of Christ who suffered as that day, that he would spare him) but lovingly embracing him, and telling him, that from that day he would take him for his own brother, whom the other had killed; this fact of his was so highly pleasing of our Saviour, that coming presently into the next Church, and praying before the image of a Crucifix which was of wood, the head of the Crucifix bowed down unto him, as it were, thanking him, and the noise of the crack, which the wood gave; was plainly heard by those that were present. And withal God planted in his hart a desire of being Religious; and fi●●t he retired himself, and began a Religious course in his own house, and afterwards in the Valley aforenamed, a place as then but mean and obscure, but not long after much renowned for the virtue of this blessed man. And his Order grew great in time, and diffused itself into many branches.  

The Ci 〈◊〉.  14. But the Cistercian Order is one of the noblest of them all, and the beginning thereof as noble. In the year One thousand ninety eight, in the reign of Henry the Fourth Emperor, and Philip the First King of France, R●bert Abbot of Molismes, finding that his Monks grew disorderly by reason of the number of them, and of their great wealth, advising with some of them that were more virtuously given (to the number of one and twenty, as it is recorded) transported himself to Cabillon, the chief city of Burgundy in those days; and chose his dwelling in a solitary place called Cisleaux, from which the Order is named the Cistercian Order. But the Monks of Molismes ●eclaming themselves in the mean time, were earnest with Robert to return unto them, which he did; and placed Stephen in his room at Cisleaux, a man fervently given, and, as it is thought, the Author of that separation. Their Company was very small, and continued so for fifteen years, that it was likely to come to nothing; till S. Bernard inspired by God, coming unto it, did not only uphold it, but made it wonderfully famous. For he put himself into that Monastery with thirty others, whereof three were his own brethren; and not long after, the fame of his virtuous living breaking-forth of that obscurity, he drew so many to follow his footsteps, that sending his brethren and disciples abroad into the whole world, he founded one hundred and threescore Monasteries in his own life-time.  
15. All these Families sprung out of the Rule of S. Benedict, which in those days did bear all the sway; insomuch that in all the Western parts it is holden, that there were no other Monks but they that professed that Rule, till the Charterhouse-monks began, which was some sixteen years before the beginning of the Cistercian Order; and the origin of them is well known, and famous. For a Doctor of the Law in Paris dying with great opinion both of learning and sanctity, as he lay upon the hearse, while the Di●ige was singing for his funeral, and many assembled at it three several days together, spoke aloud, one day that he was accused, an other day that he was judged, and the third day that he was condemned. Whereupon Bruno a famous Doctor also of the same University, affrighted, turning to his Scholars said: And who then can be saved, unless he forsake the world? And presently betook himself with six companion to a solitary place about Grenoble, esteeming it the fittest seat to retire himself unto, from the world. And it was revealed to Hugo Bishop of that Diocese, that their resolution was from God; for as he lay in his bed, he saw (as he thought) the Majesty of God descending upon that desert place, and that himself was building a palace for him there, & anon he saw as it were seven stars of great brightness to rise by little & little from the earth in form of a Coronet, far unlike to any other stars both in fashion, and situation, and motion.  
16. The Institute of the Carmelits, 
The Carmelits o● Whitefriars.  though it were brought into Italy about a thousand two hundred years after Christ, yet learned men do deliver, that it is much more ancient; for we find that john Patriarch of Jerusalem in the year Four hundred and twelve, being of this Order and the head of it, 
Wald●nsis de Sacram. tit. 9 c. 84.  wrote a Rule for it; whereby it appeareth, that it should be yet more ancient than ●his time. And there want not those (and among them Waldensis, an approved Author) that are of opinion, that it began in the Apostles time in Mount Carmelus (and the name showeth no less) in a Church which was the first, that ever was dedicated to the Blessed Virgin our Lady in this world; and increasing in number of subjects and houses throughout all Palestine, was dispersed by the Saracens that overrun the country; & they being rooted-out again, it flourished as before, much about the year One thousand one hundred. This is most certain, that about fourscore years after this restoring of it, Albert also Patriarch of Jerusalem (a man learned & wise) restored the Rule which john had instituted, & augmented it very profitably; and about the time I said before, Pope Honorius the Third bringing diverse of the Religious of that Order into diverse Provinces of Europe, approved and confirmed their Rule, being wished thereunto by our B. Lady appearing unto him in●●a Vision, as it is reported; and not long after, Pope Innocent the Fourth made diverse Decrees in favour of it, and took it into the protection and safeguard of the Sea Apostolic. A happy Age, not only for the propagation of this Order, but for the instituting of four other Orders, to wit, the Franciscans, the Dominicans, the Celestines, and the Seruites.  

The Franciscans or Gray-Friars.  17. The Franciscans began in the year One thousand two hundred and twelve. For we find that this year S. Francis brought his Rule to Pope Innocent the Third, and that it was confirmed by him, they being as yet but few of the Order; but it was half a miracle to see how quickly it increased; insomuch that not long after there met of them at a General Congregation at Assisi five thousand, and at the selfsame time there were five hundred more that entered among them; so that in a short time they filled the whole world, and are now so many of them, that being divided into three branches, every branch of them is so populous, that they may seem every one of them to be a great Order of itself.  

The Dominicans or Blackfriars.  18. The Dominicans have their name and beginning from S. Dominick, who being first a Canon-Regular under the Bishop of Huesca, laboured hard for ten years against the Heretics of Tolouse; and then making some few partakers of his determination, he framed a new Rule and Institute, the end whereof should be to preach the Gospel, which is the reason they are called Friar●-Preachers. And they write that it was first confirmed by word of mouth by Innocent the Third in the time of the Council of Lateran; and afterwards in writing, by Honorius the Third, in the year One thousand two hundred and sixteen.  

The Serui●es.  19 Some sixteen years after, the Seruites began at Florence, at the time when the Emperor Frederick the Second, being at variance with Pope Gregory the Ninth, and with the Church, wasted the Pope's territory by all the means he could. For it is recorded, that seven Gentlemen of worth, and well able to live, called by a voice from heaven retired themselves to a hill that was not far of, and living private there for some time, were discovered and made known to the world by their virtuous life, whereupon many adjoined themselves unto them; and being afterwards dispersed into several Provinces, are grown to that increase which we see. They are called Seruites, because they particularly profess themselves Servants and slaves of the Blessed Virgin.  

Celestines.  20. Not long after the Celestines were instituted by Peter Morone. This man, as it is recorded of him, lived many years in the Wilderness; but the austerity of his life, together with the many miracles, which he wrought, made him so famous in Italy, and throughout all Europe, that many putting themselves under his conduct, they were distributed afterwards into several houses and countries. And there being at that time a General Council at Lions, and Pope Gregory the Tenth present at it in person, he went thither, and procured his Rule and Institute to be approved by him in the year One thousand two hundred seventy three. But the reason why they are called Celestines is, because this very man some twenty years after being made Pope, called himself Celestin the Fifth, and ever after that name of his remained to his Order.  

C●●●hes-Friar.  21. We must not let pass the Croches-Fr●ars, the beginnings of which Order two Popes, Alexander the Third, and the sixth, in their several Breves, d●● derive from Cletus, S. Peter his successor; not that they lived in the manner them, which now we see, but that there was in those times a Company instituted for the entertaining of Pilgrims that were Christians, specially if they were poor; which Company being impaired by the cruel persecutions of those first Tyrants, and chiefly by julian the Apostate, Vrban the Second restored it in the time, when Christian Princes armed with the sign of the Cross, went against the Barbarians, and happily recovered Antioch and Jerusalem. Alexander the Third afterwards did them many great favours, in regard that in his flight from Frederick Aenobarbe, they often and liberally entertained him in their Hospitals, notwithstanding the sharp orders of the Emperor to the contrary. Lastly Pius the Second in the year One thousand four hundred and threescore, in a Council at Mantua, when he was preparing a voyage to the Holy land, appointed that they should wear a purple Habit (it is not certain wherefore) whereas before they went in ash-coulour.  
21. The beginnings of the Order of Mount-olivet in Italy are also famous. 
Mount-olivet.  Blessed Bernard Tolomens' is said to have been the Author of it, together with two others, whom he stirred-up with an eloquent Oration, which in the Academic of Sienna, where he was public Reader of Philosophy, he made of the Vanity of the world, as it were bidding it Adieu. For presently they retired themselves from company to a hill not far of, which was called Olivet (from which the Order taketh that name) to the end they might with better commodity attend to a heavenly life. This was in the year One thousand three hundred and twenty. And their fervour & strict living soon spread their fame, and drew others to imitate their course of life.  
22. Not long after, to wit, in the year One thousand three hundred fifty six, 
jesuati.  there began an other Order in the same city of Sienna, called the jesuati. The founder of them was joannes Columbinus, who is said to have been converted by reading the life of S. Marry of Egypt, upon which he had fallen by chance, and suddenly changed thereupon, lead a most holy life, full of good works, and specially of the denial and contempt of himself; when diverse others following the same course, Pope Vrban the fifth returning out of France embraced them lovingly as a new and tender offspring of the Church of Christ, and gave them many privileges.  
23. Much about the same time the Order of the heremites of S. Hierome sprung up, 
heremites of Sain● Hierome.  which flourisheth chiefly in Spain and Portugal. Peter Fernandez is said to have been the founder of them. For leaving the Court of Peter King of Cast●le, in whose favour he was both for his own and his father's services, he first joined himself to certain heremites, that lived a solitary life; afterwards together with some others, to whom he communicated his resolution, he took upon him the Rule which S. Hierome first began in the city of Bethleem, and was afterwards continued for a long time, but as then decayed; and this he did first in the Province of Toledo. Then coming to Rome he brought this his now Rule to Gregory the Eleventh, who was then Pope, in the year One thousand three hundred eighty four, which when it was confirmed by him, it quickly increased in number of subjects and houses.  
24. After these again there arose the Minims, about the year One thousand ●oure hundred and fifty; 
Mini●●●.  people that in their life and Rule profess the un●●l●tie, which their name maketh show of. The head and Author of this Order was Francis of Paula (a town in Calabria) a man rare for Virtue, and as rare for a kind of facility, which he had of working miracles; so ordinary with him, that we may say, he did them always at his pleasure. Wherefore it is no wonder that his Order also graced with such a Founder, doth flourish so in Italy and, Spain, and chiefly in France, and is so conspicuous in the world, that it may deservedly stand in comparison with those that are more ancient.   

Of the Religious Orders of the Clergy. CHAP. XXIII.  
IF that be true, which we have said above of the manner of life, which the Apostles held, and of the perfection professed in those times, as it is most certain; there was not only anciently a Religious Order of Clergy, but absolutely the first Religious men that ever were, were of the Clergy. For seeing Religion consisteth in three Vows, 
The Clergy were at just Religious men.  which I have often mentioned, and both Reason and Authority convinceth that the Apostles made them, why may we not say, & indeed openly maintain, that they were Religious, and that Religious courses have their origine & beginning from them. And upon the like certain grounds, we may also affirm the same almost of the whole Clergy of those days; for taking example by the Apostles, it was wholly framed and bred-up to the like perfection. And as for Chastity there is no doubt to be made, but they did vow it, when they took Holy Orders; 
Medin● lib. 2 de Can●n ●. 36.  for though some took Orders that had their wives yet living, yet (as Medina and many others affirm and prove) they were wont in that case to imitate the Apostles, who (as we said before) did voluntarily bar themselves of the use of marriage. And every one of them vowed Obedience to his Bishop: whereof among other proofs, we have this evident sign, 
Sulp in vit S Martin.  that, as Sulpitius recordeth, S Hilary having taken an affection to S. Martin by reason of his virtuous disposition, could think of no stronger means to oblige him, and bind him to his service, then by putting him into Holy Orders. and S. Gregory observeth, 
S. Gregorie ●. 4. Reg. apost 74.  that even in his time it was still a custom in Rome, that in whatsoever Church a man had taken Orders, it was not free for him afterwards to depart from it. And both these things are to this day in use in holy Church. For they that take Holy Orders, are obliged by solemn Vow to live chaste, and they expressly promise Obedience to their Bishop though use and practice hath given a large scope to this second Vow; for whereas in those days they obeyed their Bishop exactly in all things, now they are obliged but in very few. But the Vow of Chastity hath now as much force among them, as it hath among Religious pe●ple and maketh their marriage not only unlawful, but absolutely void. As for Poverty, if we regard that, which is now in use, it were hard to prove it▪ but if we cast our eye upon that which was anciently practised, nothing is 〈◊〉 clear. For anciently it was the order, that the Clergy should yield up their live-lode, if they had any, and possess nothing in private to themselves. Whereof S. Hierome giveth good testimony, yielding this for the reason, why from the beginning of the Church the Clergy did shave their crowns; to signify, saith he, the casting-of all temporal things, because contenting themselves with food and clothing, they ought to have nothing proper, but all things common.  
2. S. Prosper, 
Prosp. ●ib. 2. de vitae Const. c. 9  an ancient writer, reporteth the same. It is fitting, saith he, to have possessions of the Church, & to contemn one's own, for the love of perfection For the possessions of the Church are not our own▪ but common; & therefore every one that contemneth his own, forsaking or selling that which he had, if he be chosen Prelate of a Church, he is made steward of whatsoever the Church hath. And beingeth the example of S. Paulinu● and S. Hilary, who selling their patrimony, distributed the money among the poor, & being afterwards both of them created Bishops, did carefully menage the Church-livings.  
3. That the Clergy did live in common, 
The Clergy did live in common.  may be proved both by what we have said, and by the Epistle of S. Clement Pope to the Clergy of Jerusalem, where he saith: It is necessary for every one to live in common, but specially for them that desire to serve God, 
C. 21. q. 1. c. Dilict●ss.  and to imitate the life of the Apostles, and of their Disciples. S. Gregory also writing to S. Augustin, willeth him to bring in among the Clergy of the Church of England (which was then budding) the manner of conversation which was practised by our forefathers in the Primitive Church, 
S. Greg. in respon ad August.  when no body called any things his own, but the possessons, 
12. q 1 c. necessaria.  which they had, were all common among them. And among the Canons of Eugenia the Second, we find a Decree commanding, that the Clergy should have one refectory, 
And did vow it.  one dormitory, and so of the rest of the Offices. Finally that they were obliged to these things by Vow, Pope Viban testifieth in his Epistle to all Bishops, 
R●f●rtur 12. q. 1. ●. 〈◊〉.  when after diverse other things, directing his speech to the Clergy, he saith thus: Whosoever among you hath undertaken a common life, and vowed that he hath nothing proper, let him take heed that he make not his promise void, but keep carefully that which he hath promised God, that he may not heap upon himself damnation, but merit; because it is better not to vow, than not to perform his Vow.  
4. By all which we may see, that in those days either all the Clergy, or in a manner all, specially they that did aim at greater perfection, did make these three Vows, and consequently were truly Religious men. In which also Divines do agree; 
Medina lib. 5. the continent. c. 10.  and in particular Medina (a learned Author handling this question of purpose) bringeth many proofs for it, and among others, confi●meth it by the name of Canons which is yet in use, 
Canons.  and is as much to say, as Regulars. And moreover he saith, that the case of the Parish-Priest was also the same, 
Parish-Priests.  and that it was not fr●e for them neither to possess any thing as their own; but that in regard they must necessarily live at large in their Parish, and could not be with the community among the rest, they were exempted; much af●er the manner that now adays Monks are, when by command of their Superiors they are sent to govern a Parish. Thus he; and addeth that Poverty, in which Religion consisteth, was so proper to the Clergy, that it was rather by sufferance, 
Aug. 1.2. 〈◊〉 vita. 〈◊〉 q. 2. c cart.  that they began to have any thing proper. And proveth it by tha saying of S. Augustin, wh● in one of his Sermons of the Common life of the Clergy saith, that heretofore he was of a mind not to take any into the Clergy, but those that would lead their life in common; but afterwards he altered his mind, lest (which was worse) any through hypocrisy; & dissembling should break the Rule, and not satisfy his promise; and therefore from thence forward he would admit a man into the Clergy, though he would not live in common. Out of which Medina doth argue, that the nature of the State requireth, that a man should profess Poverty; and if all did not do it, it was by sufferance and dispensation.  

●●o causes of relaxation in the Clergy.  5. And I imagine that the causes of this relaxation might be two: First, the great increase of the number of the Clergy; for the number of Christians growing to that height, that they could not be holpen by few, and it being also a great ornament to the Church to have many Ministers, the fervour and zeal of perfection could not be so well maintained in so great a number. An other reason might be, because the farther times grew from the primitive state of the Church, Charity and the love of God grew also more cold among men, self-love and the affection to private commodities taking place; so that it was hard to keep all the Clergy to that strict denial of all things; and yet some, that had more courage and more fervour, maintained it, and so applied themselves to the functions of the Clergy, that they performed also the offices of Religious people, 
S. Ambrose Epist. 2 5.  and kept their wont orders exactly. S. Ambrose commendeth Eusebius Bishop of Vercels for his diligence in this kind, ordering his Clergy so, that (as he speaketh) he required of them two things together: the continency of the Monastery, and the discipline of the Church. These being different in themselves, Eusebius (of holy memory) first joined together in the Western part▪ & dwelling in the city, kept the orders of Monks, & governed his Church with sobriety of fasting. For it doth greatly advance the grace of a Priest, if he bind youth to the practice of Abstinence and the rule of Integrity, and bar them that dwell in the city, from the use and conversation of the city. Thus speaketh S Ambrose of Eusebius; making him, if we mark it, not absolutely the first Author of this manner of living, but the erectour of it in the Western parts only; for it flourished in other Countries long before; as we find by that which P●s●d●nius writeth in the Life of S. Augustin, 
Possidonius in vit● Augustin.  where he telleth us, that S. Augustin practised it, erecting a Monastery within his Church, where all lived at common charge, and did eat at the same table, and no body called any thing his own; and moreover addeth, that this fashion of living, was first brought-in under the holy Apostles. 
Pius 4. bulla●t. incipit. sedi● Apost. apud Nanarrum in statur●●●● 19 q. 3. in 6. & 7. 〈…〉 Regis. 10.1. 〈◊〉 p●r.  Pope Pius the Fourth speaketh to the same effect, when in a bull of his decreing certain things for the honour of the Canon-Regulars, he giveth this reason: because this Order was instituted by the Apostles. Navarre cities the bull, and addeth many things to like purpose. So that S Augustin also was not so much the first Founder as the restorer or Reformer of this Religious Order of the Clergy; and I meet with no man, that maketh any doubt, but that the Order, which he did institute, is the same Order of the Canon-Regulars, which even now I mentioned. For when S. Augustin died, and the city of Hippo was destroyed by the Wandals, Gela●i●s, an African borne, came to Rome with some Religious of that Order, and himself bein● afterwards made Pope, his Companions persevered in the Religious, course, which they had begun; and the Church of Lateran was assigned them for their dwelling. Whereof we find good testimony to this day both in the ruins of that Monastery, and in some of the Pope's Bulls, and specially of Pope Eugenius the Fourth. 
And their employments.  And it is upon record, that their employments were to say Mass, to preach to the people, to minister the Sacraments unto them, and finally to perform all Priestly and Apostolical functions, living in common together under Obedience to one Provost or Superior, and having nothing of their own. And it is certain, that Bonifacius the Eighth was the first that removed these Canon-Regulars from their house at Lateran, after they had had possession of i● near upon eight hundred years, and placed Secular Canons in their room, giving every one of them his part of the rents, which before were in common. And we have many proofs, that this Institute was not only in use in Rome, but in most countries beside. For S. Dominick in Spain was first for a time a Canon-Regular, and the Life and Epistles of S. Bernard show that there were many of them in his time in France▪ 
S. Bernard Ep. 3. & 81.  for he relateth diverse things of them. There was therefore in those days this only Institute of the Regular Clergy, for aught we know, to wit, the Canon-Regulars, as I have said. But in this our Age, by the special providence and will of God, diverse other Orders have sprung-up much of the same kind, and much to the advancement of the Church, all of them labouring in the cultivating thereof, as in the Vineyard of our Lord, so much the more fervently and cheerfully, and with more fruit, by how much they come unto it with new strength and vigour, and, as fresh workmen, less wearied.  
6. In which number we may with reason place this our Society of IE●VS; which God in these latter days hath brought to light, to wit, in the year One thousand five hundred and forty, for in that year it was confirmed by Pope Paulus and Third, and established by decree of the Apostolic Sea. We will here say nothing of the Founder thereof, nor what beginnings it had, because things are f●esh in memory, and known to every body. Only I will show briefly, after what manner it endeavoureth to couple Religious discipline with the functions of the Clergy, embracing, as much as may be, that which is best and principal in both the kinds of life. For whereas Religion chiefly consisteth in Poverty, in forsaking the world, in departing from ●lesh and bl●●d, and in perpetual Obedience (which we may worthily call the principal part of Religion, 
The Society of JESUS.  and as it were the Essence of it) the Society of JESUS embraceth all these things, and in particular so exact Obedience, that it bendeth all the forces it hath to the perfect practice and exercise thereof; yet it maketh account, that Obedience and to be eminent in the perfect abnegation of our will and judgement, is the peculiar mark, whereby the true and right children and subjects of the Society are known and distinguished from all others. Now as for the manner of living of the Clergy, if we will go solidly to work, we must chiefly have an eye to that, which was instituted by the Apostles, as our heavenly Masters, which doubtless was very different from that, which now we see. For anciently it attended to the functions only of teaching and preaching the Gospel, of instructing the ignorant in Christian doctrine, of ministering the Sacraments, and, in a word, to purge, illuminate, and perfect the souls of others; by which threefold employment the Ecclesiastical Hierarchy resembled the Angelical, which is in heaven. The same kind of exercises, ou● Order hath undertaken to put in practice, next after the saving and perfecting their own souls, attending to help and perfect their Neighbour, by word and work, in private and in public, at home and abroad, finally by all convenient means that may be. Neither is it contrary to the ancient practice of the Clergy, 
Schools.  that in our Schools we apply ourselves to the teaching of children. 
Syn. 9 c. 4. & 5 Co●. c. Mog c 4●.  For we find it decreed in ancient Counsels, that Priests and Monks should have schools in their Monasteries and Churches, where the Faithful might send their children. And S. Basil moving this very question, 
S. Basil. reg Prou q. 29●.  Whether it be sitting, that among the Monks there be some Masters to teach Secular children, he answered that it is very sitting and agreeable to the Gospel, so it be done to the end, that together with learning, they be taught devotion and the fear of God. And there want not examples of many Monks and Monastical Orders, that have had Schools, not only for their own, but to teach secular people also; whereby this, which I say, may be confirmed. And so much concerning our Society.  

The state of the Clergy, and the state of Monks compared  7. But to return to the Orders of the Regular Clergy in general, we may easily guess by what hath been said, how laudable a thing it is, to couple two so profitable and excellent courses together, and how much it is to be desired. For the Order of the Clergy, and the Order of the Monks, are as it were two eyes, or two hands, or arms of the Church, whereof it hath use in all occasions, both of them noble and excellent in themselves, and so fraught with their several commodities belonging to each of them, that whosoever shall compare them together, will find that they surpass and are surpassed again by one another. For in the Clergy the labour and industry, wherewith they employ themselves towards their Neighbour, is remarkable, their diligence in preaching and opposing themselves to the power of the Devil, and advancing the glory of God; their Priestly Order and function, and the handling of the sacred Mysteries belonging thereunto. In Monks we admire their Poverty, having nothing, possessing nothing; the br●therlie love and loving charity and union which is among them, being, as it were, of many members one body; the mutual assistance, which they have by one another; their Obedience to Superiors, together with the lowliness of the state itself, and humility and other fruits, which Obedience bringeth. So that each of the states having many excellencies proper to themselves, which ar● not in each other, what an excellent kind of life must that needs be, which joineth them both together, and enjoyeth the excellency's ●f them both, together with the ca●e of their own souls, which is proper to M●nks, attending also to the benefit and perfection of their Neighbour, which is the business of the Clergy? And so much the more, because the joining of them together bringeth also more plentiful fruit in them both, then when they are exercised severally. For God doth bestow his graces' in greater abundance, when they are directed to the advancing of his glory in others; & (ordinarily speaking) the nearer the instrument of these spiritual effects is conjoined with God the principal Cause & Author of them, the more benefit they work in our Neighbour; and the conjunction is wrought by virtue, and chiefly by Humility and Obedience, both which belong intrinsically to a Religious State.  
8. But let us spare our own, and hear how S. Ambrose discourseth of both these lives, 
S. Ambrose.  comparing them together. Who maketh any doubt, saith he, but that these two, to wit, the functions of the Clergy, and the orders of Monks, are to be preferred before all the earnest devotion, which is practised among Christians? the exercises of the Clergy being ordained to civil and humane conversation; the Monks accustoming themselves to abstinence and patience. They are seated, as it were, in the open theatre of the world; these live private and secret: every body's eye are upon them, these are hidden from every body. Therefore that noble Champion saith: We are made a spectacle to this world. They are in the race, these are within the lists. They strive against the confusedness of this world, these against the desires of the flesh. They conquer the pleasures of the body, these do shun them. Their life is more pleasing, this is more safe; they govern, these restrain; yet both deny themselves, that they may be Christ's, because it is said to the perfect: He that will come after me, let him deny himself and take up his Cross, and follow me. That life therefore fighteth, this stands aloof; that overcometh the allurements, this avoideth them; that triumpheth over the world, this bannisheth it; that crucifyeth, or is crucified to, the world, this doth not know it; that abideth more assaults, and therefore the victory is the greater; this falleth seldomer, and preserveth itself more easily. Thus S. Ambrose, whereby we may clearly see that which I said a little before, how rare that course of life must needs be, where the excellencies of both these states are united together, seeing that severally they have so many commendations in them, that it cannot but be an excellent thing to embrace either of them. And doubtless it is a hard piece of business, and a maister-worke to conjoin them; but nothing is hard to God, with whom no word is impossible.   

Of the great multitude of Religious, and Religious Orders. CHAP. XXIV.  
HAVING discoursed briefly of the beginning and progress of Religious Orders, we will spend a little time in considering the number and variety of the branches of them. For who is there, that calling to mind the infinite multitude of them, that have professed this kind of life in all Ages almost of the Gospel, will not greatly admire and be even astonished? We have spoken before of S. Antony, 
S. Antony  whose fame and example drew so many to forsake the world, & give themselves to a solitary life, even while the superstition of the Heathen, was yet strong in all countries, 
Ps. 64. ●2.  that we may truly say of that Age with the Royal Prophet: Thou 〈◊〉 bless the crown of the year of thy benignity, the fairness of the desert will grow fa●, & the hillocks will be girt with exultation. 
S. Athan. in 〈◊〉 Anto●●.  Let us set before our eyes that which 〈◊〉 A●hmasius writeth of him and his disciples in his Life. Upon the hill, saith he, 〈◊〉 were Monasteries like tabernacles, full of Celestial Quires of people that spent their time in singing of Psalms, in reading, and praying; and occupying a great extent of land, they made as it were a town among themselves, severed from worldly conversation. Who is there, that beholding such a world of Monks, and taking into his consideration that heroical company of people agreeing in one, where there was never an il-one, no detraction, but a multitude of followers of Abstinence, and a continual striving in matter of Piety and good offices, would not presently break forth into those words? How good are thy houses, 
Numb. 24.5  jacob, and thy tabernacles, Israel? as woods that give shadow, as a garden upon rivers, as tents pitched by God, as Cedars of Libanus near the waters.  

S. Hilarion.  2. The like we may say of S. Hilarion; who, as S. Hierome writeth founded about the same time Monasteries in Palestine without number; and of Macarius a disciple of S. antony's, 
S. Hierome in 〈…〉.  renowned for sanctity, and a Father of very many, 
S. Ma●arius  that followed his footsteps. Of Cariton also it is recorded, that he built diverse Monasteries in Palestine; 
Cariton.  and still as he had finished them, he retired himself further into the desert. 
Isidorus.  We read that Isidorus was governor of a thousand Monks in one Monastery. 
Apollonius.  And Apollonius afterwards in the same Monastery enlarged, had five thousand under him. And upon a hill of Nu●●●, about a day's journey from Alexandria, there were five hundred Monasteries, that stood almost wall to wall, & all of them were directed by one Master or Precedent. Palladius an ancient Author, 
Palla l. in hist Lausi.  and an eye-witness of many of these things, relateth in the history of his Pilgrimage, that he saw a City, in which there were more Monasteries then Secular houses; so that every street and corner ringing with the Divine praises, which those servants of God did sing, the whole City seemed a Church. He also testifieth, that he saw an infinite multitude of Monks in Memphis and Babylon, all of them singular for diverse jousts of the holy-ghost; and that not far from Thebae he met with Ammon, who was Father of three thousand Monks. What shall we say of S. Pacomius, 
Pacomius.  who flourished about four hundred years after Christ? of whom we read, that in several houses standing not fa●re asunder from one another, he had seven thousand disciples; and in the house, wherein himself lived, he had above a thousand with him, and all these he divided into four and twenty Companies, according to the four and twenty letters of the Christs-crosse-row, that he might the better take an account of them. Palladius also writeth, that he saw Serapion▪ 
Serapion.  when he had ten thousand Monks under him, distributed into several houses. And S. Herome in the Epitaph of Paula maketh mention, 
S Hi●r in Epitaph. Pau●ae.  that when she went into the desert to visit those holy Fathers, there met her (as he speaketh) innumerable troops of servants of God; and that she was so taken with that sight, that forgetting her sex, she had a great desire to dwell amidst so many thousands of Monks. And whose Celle (saith he) did not she go into● at whose feet did she not cast herself? she made account, she saw Christ in every Saint.  

 3. And as the number of Monks was infinite, the multitude of Religious women was little less; as we find recorded chiefly by Theodoret in the end of his Religious History; where he saith, that there were infinite Monasteries of them throughout all the Eastern parts, in Palestine, in Egypt, in Asia, Pon●●●, Cilicia, Syria, and in Europe also. Because, saith he, since our Saviour was borne of a Virgin-mother, the fresh fields of Virginity are every where multiplied.  
4. And to the end we may not think, 
The great order, that was among them. S Hier. Ep. 22.  that in so great a number there was much disorder and confusion, as it falleth-out in a throng of people, it will not be amiss to set before our eyes that which S. Hierome writeth of the order of those times. The first thing they agree upon, saith he, is to obey their Superiors, and to perform whatsoever they shall command. They are distinguished by ten and hundreds, so that every tenth man is over the nine, and again the hundredth Superior hath ten governors under him; every one lives by himself alone, but their Cells are close one to another. Their order is, that till the Ninth Hour they go not to one another, unless it be the Decurion● I mentioned, to comfort those, that are under their charge, if any one of them chance to be troubled in his thoughts. After the Ninth Hour they meet all together, they sing Psalms, they read the Scripture as it is prescribed them, and when they have ended their prayers, they all sit down; and he, whom they call their Father, standing in the middle of them, beginneth his speech. While he speaketh, there is such silence, that they dare not look upon one another, nor spit. The commendation of the speaker, be the tears of the hearers; their tears trickle softly down their cheeks, and their grief breaks not fo●●h into sighs. Then the meeting breaketh-up, and every company sits down at board with the Father of it, and they wait upon one another by weeks. There is no noise, while they are at their meat; no body speaketh while he eateth. Then they rise all together, and having said Grace, they return to their Cells. There till evening they discourse every one with those of his own Company, and say: Did you not mark this man or the other? what a grace he hath? how great his silence was? how grave was his carriage? If they perceive any body to be weak, they comfort him; if fervent in the love of God, they exhort him to follow it. And because, setting aside the times of public prayer, every one watcheth in the night in his own Celle, they go to every Celle; and laying their care, they listen carefully what they are doing. If they find any one more slow than others, they do not rebuke him, but taking no notice that they know any thing of it, they visit him oftener; & beginning themselves first, rather encourage then compel him to pray. Thus S. Hierome writeth of them, & much more to the same effect.  
5. Let us return to our former discourse of the multitude of them; which we must not attribute so to the happy fruitfulness of those times, 
The multitude of Religious in S. Benedict's days.  as to think, that with time also it shrunk away. For we find the like increase of number in S. Benedict's days, & also in later Ages. Tritemius, who lived about the year One thousand four hundred and fourscore, speaking of the increase of his Order, bringeth for proof thereof, 
Tritem. l. 1. de Vivi● Illustr. c. 2.  that in his time in the only Province of Mentzes there were one hundred and twenty four entire Abbeys yet standing, besides ten others, that were drawn out of them; so that by this one Province we may guess at the largeness of the whole Order. And it is no wonder there should be so many, if we consider, what he adds further, that there was a time, when they had fifteen thousand Abbeys, 
S. Bernard in vit. Malachi●  besides Priories and other less●r Monasteries. S. Bernard also in the Life of S. Malachi recordeth that in Ireland there was a Monastery, 
Monasteries in Ireland.  the head of many Monasteries, out of which many thousands of Monks had been bred; and saith further of it thus: A holy place indeed, and fruitful of Saints, bringing forth abundant fruit to God, insomuch that one only child of that holy Congregation, whose name was Luanus, 
Luanus.  is reported to have been himself alone Founder of a hundred Monasteries; which I speak, that by this one the Reader may gather, how infinite the rest of the multitude was. In brief, the branches thereof have so filled both Ireland and Scotland, as we may think, that those verses of David did chiefly foretell of these times: Thou hast visited the earth, 
Ps. 64.20.  and made it drunk; thou hast multiplied to enrich 〈◊〉; and in like manner the rest, which followeth. And these swarms of Saints have not only spread themselves in the Country's aforesaid, but have also, as it were, overflown into foreign parts. 
S. Columbanus.  For S. Columbanus coming from thence into this our Country of France built the Monastery of Luxovium, and raised there a great people. And thereport is, that the number of them was so great, that they continued among themselves the Divine Service day and night, one company succeeding still an other, 
S. Bernard.  that there was not a minute of time free from singing praise to God. This S. Bernard relateth of others; and we may say the like of himself and his Family; for in a short time it increased so fast, that it was even a miracle to see it. For while he was at Clairenaulx, and his company was as yet but small, he saw in a Vision a multitude of people of several states and conditions and in several attires flocking down the adjacent hills in that abundance, that the place was not able to contain them.  

The Franciscan-Fryars.  6. What shall we say of later Orders, especially of the Franciscans, who seem to have been particularly blessed in this sudden and large propagation of their Order. For whereas they are distinguished into several branches, all derived from one Founder S. Francis, the sole Order of the Obseruantines, as they call them, did reckon of late years, that they were in number about a hundred thousand Religious. Finally it will not be hard to show, that the number of Religious people in these our days is in a manner infinite; and there is apparent reason for it, 
The number of Religious in these days.  besides that we may see it with our eyes. For Religious Orders having flourished now so many Ages, so many of them anciently instituted, so many new ones growne-up in succeeding times, those of old have still continued, and the new ones have been daily increased to an excessive number. Which makes me think, that the number of Religious people cannot only not be less then anciently it was, when there was such abundance of them, but must needs be somewhat greater than in those times. It may be, that then the number of them made a greater show, because all that would be Religious, betook themselves to two or three Orders (for in those days there were no more) now we do not reflect so much upon the great number of them, because they are divided into many Houses and Families. And what greater commendation can we desire, or proof of the excellency of this kind of life? This being in a manner the selfsame blessing, which anciently God promised to the jews, as an evident token of his favour and presence with them; My eye shall be upon you, and I will make you increase; 
Levit. 26.9.  you shall be multiplied, and I will confirm my covenant with you.  
5. Yea it is an apparent sign of great perfection; for as by course of nature, a thing must first be rightly composed, and grown to perfection in the kind it is in, 
The multiplication of Religious people a sign of perfection in Religious Orders.  before it bring forth an other like unto it; as we see in all herbs and plants, and more apparently in all kinds of beasles & in men also: insomuch that the ability of engendering an other, is a sign of abundant strength & virtue in the thing it engendereth: so in this supernatural kind of life, this excessive increase, which I speak of, argueth abundance of great perfection and sanctity, which were not much to be admired, if Religion were a course of licentiousness and liberty, which worketh much upon Sense, and draweth the flesh & blood after it. But it is quite contrary; for it taketh those things quite away, which are any way pleasing to our body, and prescribeth others, which are opposite to Nature, as poverty, paynes-taking, contempt of ourselves, voluntary afflictions, and a perpetual carrying of our Crosse. So that this great concourse to Religion generally of young people, well borne, and well bred, in those years and that education, which naturally abhors all hardness and austerity, must needs be a sign, that there is something Divine in Religion, and there can be no other cause given of it.  
8. Moreover the multitude of Religious Orders is a great ornament to the Church of God. 
An ornament to the Church. S. Bernard in Apol.  For, as S. Bernard doth rightly and prudently observe, the Church distinguished into so many different Orders, is as the Queen, of whom we read in the Psalm, that she was clad round with variety; 
Ps. 44.20.  and in it we behold the garment of several colours, not of that joseph who saved Egypt, but of him that saved the world; and a garment without seam, 
Gen. 31.3.  in regard both of the inviolable charity, and the uniform difformity which is in it. And besides this beauty, which S. Bernard here speaketh of, it is a great honour, and a great benefit to the Church. An honour, because as in the Courts of Princes, so in this Court of the Eternal God, which is the Church, it is both honourable and Majestical to have several degrees of servants, distributed into several ranks, and different both in their attire, and offices; and it doth much setforth the glory, and service of God, and of CHRIST our Bride▪ groom; and for the Church his Spouse and Bride, nothing could be more glorious of more magnificent, then to resemble in this so near the order and variety of the heavenly Jerusalem; in which there is not one Order of Angels only, but many Orders, many Hierarchies of those Blessed Spirits, like in nature, and yet different in degree and office, conspiring all in the perpetual service of God. 
S. Thomas 2.2. q 18● ar. 2.  To which purpose S. Thomas saith both learnedly and wittily, that as in natural things God made such variety of them, to the end that the several qualities and perfections, which are in them, might be the more known, the more they were dispersed into many particulars: So in the order of Grace, the multiplying of States, and Offices, and Functions, makes that the fullness of Grace, which flows from CHRIST our Lord and Saviour, as from the head and fountain, is communicated to more particulars, & in more different fashions. By which, CHRIST himself is doubtless more glorified in regard that both the force of his merit, & his liberality in giving, is much more conspicuous to the world by this means. And addoth, that the beauty of the Church is also much increased and graced by it, as we touched before; because Order is of itself a comely and graceful thing, and Order cannot be but among many; and he accommodateth that saying of the Apostle to this purpose: In a great house there are not only vessels of gold and silver, but of wood, and earth.  

2. Tim. 2.20.  9 And doubtless it is also a great benefit to the Church, because every Religious Order proposing some particular thing to itself, at which it chiefly aimeth, 
Variety of Religious Orders a benefit to the Church.  it compasseth that, which it hath in hand, better and with more perfection; because it attendeth wholly to that one thing. For many businesses be of that nature, that they hinder one an other; others are more easily and more sweetly brought to perfection, if they be undertaken severally. Wherefore, as Aristotle saith, the body of man is naturally framed so, as every Sense hath a several member, and instrument, as it were, appointed for it, to the end they might not hinder one an other, 
Aristotle. 2. c. 1.  if there were occasion to exercise several functions at one time: so in the functions of Grace, it did much more beseem the bountiful and magnificent wisdom of God to distribute to several particulars the work and reward, which he hath appointed. And as it is both decent and beneficial for a City to have tradesmen of several professions, some working in wool, others in iron, or timber, and the like, to the end all may have sufficient to clothe and maintain themselves; and not only there be several trades on foot, but several particulars working at one trade and occupation, to the end things may be the more plentiful; so in this spiritual City of God, because very many things are required to bring a man to Heaven, out of his infinite wisdom he hath provided, that we should have plenty of them by means of the several Religious Orders which are erected.  
10. The Church of God stood in need of Prayers, to relieve it in all dangers and difficulties that do occur, and for a continual defence and rampire in all occasions. Therefore God provided certain Orders that should employ themselves wholly in Contemplation of Heavenly things. It needed Fast and other austerities, both to appease the wrath of God bend against the sins of men, and that they might have good example to imitate. To which purpose there are other Orders founded, which give themselves most to this kind of ●igorous life, professing it in their outward habit, and long abstinence, and ext●came poverty. It wanted Sermons and teachers, and some that might privately instruct the people, and hear Confessions. The providence of God hath furnished all these, and appointed several workmen for them, giving them both will and ability to perform every one his several function: whereby this City of God, as I styled it before, hath all the helps, which can be thought either necessary or useful for out eternal welfare.  
11. And there is one thing in it worthy to be observed, because it shows the goodness of God very apparently, & his particular providence over mankind. For as when a sick man hath lost his stomach, 
Several dispositions re●ui●ed several Orders.  the Physicians as much as they can, do order such meats for him, as he hath least aversion from, and do propose of themselves diverse kinds unto him, that he may take a liking to some one of them: so because secular people through multiplicity of earthly businesses had lost their appetite to heavenly things, and all desire and feeling of them, God of purpose hath provided, as it were, several spiritual dishes, dressed and seasoned by particular men several ways, that they, that could not away with one, might be taken with an other.  
12. An other reason also might be, and that very necessary, because God out of his infinite goodness would provide for all, and as it were prepare the way for every body, that had a mind to be perfect in virtue. For people are of several natures and dispositions, several inclinations and abilities, even of body. Some love to be alone, others in company; some cannot abide to have little or nothing to do, others cannot away with businesses; some have their health well, others are but weak, and are not able to take much pains, or endure any hardness, so that every one of these was to be provided for, and to have as it were a several diet by himself, which might agree with his health and complexion; and the sweetness of the providence of Almighty God, which he always useth, and never fayleth-of in the government of mankind, could not but order it in this manner.  
13. And finally his Divine wisdom, in this multiplication of Religious Orders, had a respect also in the provision of new supplies to the Church, which being fresh and entire, might themselves fight the more valiantly, and encourage others also to pul-up their spirits, who were perhaps even weary with fight. For it is ordinary, that they, who come last, are more fervent, and either by their example, or for shame, or for other reasons, others take hart and courage by seeing them: by which means, fervour is always maintained in the Church of God, because these new sparks, which ever and anon are added, keep life and fire in it.   

Of diverse Religious men, that have been eminent both in learning and sanctity. CHAP. XXV.  
AS among the proofs for the Catholic Church it is none of the least, that so many eminent men have been of it, of whom it is scarce credible that any one much less that all should err; so in my opinion, we may use the like argument in commendation of a Religious course, 
The greatest part of the most eminent men have been Religious.  that seeing so many rare men have embraced it, their sole example and authority is forcible enough to convince that it deserveth all praise and honour, specially the number of them being so great, that if we would stand to reckon-up all, that have been conspicuous for learning and sanctity in the whole Church of God, we should without all question find, that the greater part of them all have been Religious For if Religion brought them to so much eminency in both these rare qualities; what can be better, what more beneficial than a Religious state? If being before so eminently qualifyed they betook themselves notwithstanding to Religion, this were ground sufficient to extol a Religious course, that men so eminent would profess that kind of life; such men, I say, as it cannot but be both safe and commendable to follow them. And if whole Cities and Countries do esteem it a glory to have had some one or two among their inhabitants, singular for Learning, or Military discipline, and keep them upon record in their Annals and Chronicles, boasting themselves of them to all posterity, as if the prowess of one particular man did redound to the honour of the whole community; how much more reason hath Religion to glory and boast itself of so many rare men, that have been bred in it? For it is but by chance, that a man was borne at Rome, or at Athens; and he, that was borne there, had no part of his choice in it: but these men entered into Religion upon good consideration & of set purpose, because they knew the good that was in it. So that the more eminent they were, the more honour they did Religion by embracing it; first, because they would never have set their affection that ways, but that they knew it deserved all love: secondly, because the renown, which they brought with them, could not but add much grace to the dignity which Religion had before of itself. And the number of them, who became Religious, and were eminent and famous in the world, is without number; wherefore we will not strive to reckonup-al, because it would be an endless labour, but confine ourselves to those, that have coupled exquisite Learning with singular Virtue; and among these also we will only pick-out the chiefest in every Age; and first the Grecians, than those of the Latin Church.  

Serapton.  2. Serapton doth first present himself, as ancientest of them all, about the year of our Saviour One hundred ninety three. It is recorded of him, that being in his youth broughtup in Monastical discipline, he was afterwards chosen Patriarch of Antioch, the Eighth in order after S. Peter the Apostle; and that he was the learnedst and eloquentest man of his time, and wrote many excellent things for the benefit of posterity.  

Pamphilus.  3. Pamphilus, a man not much inferior in all things, lived not long after, to wit, in the year Two hundred and eleven; he was also accounted the eminentest of his Age for learning; 
S. Hierome 〈◊〉 p. Eccl.  and S. Hierome maketh mention of the great Library which he had, and being put to death under Maximian the Emperor for the Faith of Christ, added the glory of Martyrdom to the commendation of the Religious life which he had lead.  

●u●ian.  4. Much about the same time, Lucian, who from his tender years was bred-up a Monk, was also famous for learning; and, as Suidas writeth of him, taught a School at Antioch, out of which many rare men proceeded; at last the same Maximian having caused him to be imprisoned, and commanded that nothing should be given him but such meat as had been offered to Idols, he there perished by famine.  

 5. john Cl●macus is worthy to be reckoned in the number, who about the year Three hundred and forty, was a Monk in Mount-Sinai; and honoured his times not only with his exemplar life, but with his good exhortations and writings.  

〈◊〉.  6. To whom Eff●em Lyrus is nothing inferior; he, whom S. Basil was told by 〈◊〉 what he was, when he came once to visit him; and being made 〈◊〉 by him could never be persuaded to say Mass, he thought so humbly 〈◊〉; yet he performed other Priestly functions with great applause, 〈◊〉 and instructing the people with such eloquent persuasions, 
 that he is 〈…〉 had one of the fluentest tongues of his Age. And he wrote also many things, which (as S. Hierome reporteth) were wont to be read publicly in most Churches of the East, next after the holy Scripture.  
7. But none were so conspicuous in those days, as S. Basil himself, 
S Basil.  and S. Gregory Nazianzen, 
S. Gregory Nazian.  both equal in learning, and sympathising in affection, and in their manner of life. For S. Gregory sailing to Athens, and being in great danger upon the sea, 
Vide Russin lib. 11.  vowed to be a Monk, if he might escape with life; which Vow, when at the end of his studies he was resolved to perform, he drew S. Basil with him, who had been his familiar friend during that time. And for thirteen years together giving themselves in a Monastery to the study of Scripture only and of Divinity, they advanced themselves so far in them both, as the whole world is witness, by the great benefit, which it feeleth. After which time S. Basil was made Bishop of Caesarea; and S. Gregory first of Nazianzen, afterwards of Constantinople. The things which both of them did, and suffered, and have left written, are so known, that it is needless to repeat them. Only I thought good to observe, that they retained always b●th of them such a love to a Monastical life, that S. Basil together with his Pastoral Charge did ever join the practices of Monastical discipline; and S. Gregory giving-over his Charge, betook himself to his home, and there gave himself wholly to the private exercise of those, that live in Monasteries, till his dying-day. And we shall have no cause to think it strange, if we consider what himself writeth of himself in a certain Oration, wherein he giveth this reason, why refusing a Bishopric which was offered him, he fled into Pontus; to wit, because he was so much taken with a Religious life, that he could not be persuaded to leave it; Which life, saith he, I having had so great an affection unto it from my youth, as few, that have given themselves to learning, may compare with me, and having vowed it to God when I was in extremity of danger, and moreover practised it to these years, and increased more and more in the love and desire of it by the very practice, I could not suffer myself to be drawn out of it, no more than out of Sanctuary.  
8. Next after these we may reckon S. Epiphanius, 
S. Epiphanius.  who was certainly a very rare man. He was borne of jewish parents; but meeting one day with Lucian a Monk, and beholding a Bowl of light descending over his head, was so inflamed not only with the love of Christian Religion, but also of a Monastical life, that resolving presently upon it, he would needs put himself into the service of God in his Monastery; and whereas the Monastery before was of no note or fame, by his presence it came to be greatly renowned. At last being chosen Bishop of a certain place, & putting himself into the first ship he met, with intent to avoid it, he fell upon the same pikes which he laboured so much to escape. For arriving at Salamina in the Island of Cyprus, where they were treating about choosing a Bishop, by Divine instinct, and the general voice of all, he was there consecrated Bishop, though with much repugnance and reluctation on his part.  
9 What shall we say of S. john Chrysostome, 
S. I●hn Chrysostome.  who flourished about this time also, to wit, in the year Four hundred? For we read of him, that while he lived in a certain private Monastery, an Angel appearing to Flavianus Patriarch of Antioch, in a great light, willed him to go to john Chrysostom, and consecrate him Priest; and in like manner at the selfsame hour and time, the Angel appeared to john, and willed him to follow Flavianus, in whose Church for twelve years together he did God great good service; and from thence being made Archbishop of Constantinople, he took so much pains, & went through so many troubles, what with preaching, what with writing, what with providing for the Common good, and withal was so tossed and turmoiled through the envy of his opponents, & the power of Princes, against whom he stood with great courage, that dying in banishment, and in great misery, besides other titles of honour and commendation which he deserves, he may worthily be styled a Martyr.  

S. john Damascen.  10. S. john Damascen was also a very famous man about the year Four hundred and thirty. His Works, which are yet extant, do sufficiently testify his learning; & his life was full of holiness grounded upon the deep foundation of Humility and Mortification. All which he oweth to an other Monk, that being led captive into Syria, became Master to S. john Damascen; and in short time put all his learning into him.  
11. There were others also less renowned than the former, but yet were rare men, as Nilus, Isaacius, Eutimius, Diademus, Anastasius, and that great Bessarion, 
B●ssarion.  who in the year One thousand four hundred thirty nine, was the chief actor in the Council of Florence, in the reconciling of the Grecians to the Latin Church, and solidly confuted both by word of mouth, and afterwards in writing, the Bishop of Ephesus, that was the only opponent in that business. And being deservedly esteemed one of the learnedst men of that Age, and besides having so much zeal and piety, he was made Cardinal by Eugenius the Fourth, and did greater matters afterwards for the advancement of the Church of God. And this shall suffice concerning the Grecians.  

S Hierome.  12. Among the Latins, those two lights of the Church, S. Hierome and S. Augustin, do by right challenge the first place. And as for S. H●erome, it is evident, 
S Augustin.  that he was a Monk from his youth, and never forsook that course of life; though we find that he traveled to Rome, and to Antioch, and other places. Insomuch that when Paulinus Bishop entreated him, and in a manner compelled him, 
S. Hierome Ep. 62.  to take Holy Orders, he yielded, but upon this condition, that he might not forgo his Monastical profession, as himself writeth to Panmachius, giving this reason, because he would not have that taken from him under the title of Priesthood, for which he had forsaken the world; wherefore though he were made Priest, 
Idem Ep 60.  he never suffered himself to be ranked among the other Clergy, nor would he spend his labours in preaching to the people, though he was much importuned unto it by Epiphanius, as himself writeth in his Epistle to john B●shop of Jerusalem. Finally growing now in years he returned to Jerusalem, and whereas Paula had built two Monasteries at the Manger of our Saviour, 
Idem Ep 26.  at her own cost and charges, one for women, an other for men, he took up his rest in this that was for the men, & enlarged it at his own expenses. For to this end (as he writeth) he sent his brother Paulinian into his own country, to sell the decayed Manors which had escaped the hands of the Barbarians, and the rest of his patrimony, to the end he might have room to entertain the multitudes of Monks, which flocked to him from all parts of the world, and did (as he speaketh) in a manner overwhelm: him. And we may gather also that he had the government of the said Monastery in his hands, 
Idem in lib ●. Hi●●●m.  by that which himself writeth in an other place, that he was forced to dispatch his Commentaries upon Hieremie by pieces, by reason of the number of those that came to the House, and of the charge of the holy Brethren, and of the Monastery.  
13. As concerning S. Augustin, 
S Augustin Ep 29. q. 4.  though the course of life, which he lead, be sufficiently testified and known by that which several Authors have left written, and chiefly Possidonius, yet it will not be amiss to hear what he saith of himself. I (saith he) who write this, have been much in love with the perfection of which our Saviour speaketh to that rich young man, saying: Go, sell all thou hast, and give to the poor, and come follow me; and not by my own forces, but by the help of the grace of God, I have performed it. And I know more than any other man, how much I have profited in this way of perfection; yet God knoweth it better than I. And I exhort others all I can to the like course, and have companions in it in the name of our Lord, 
Idem 3. contra Petilian. c. 40.  who have been persuaded by my means. In an other place he setteth down what the Heretics said of him for this cause: Petilian with his fowl mouth advanced himself in dispraise of Monasteries and Monks, finding fault also with me, because I have been author of a course of life of this nature; and yet he knoweth not what kind of life it is, or rather maketh as if he knew not that, which is known over all the world. What therefore can be said of a Religious state that can be more for the honour and credit of it, than that two so rare and excellent men have embraced it with such love and earnestness, as themselves express? For if we speak of wit, who was there ever more acute? if of Learning, who more learned? If we seek able Pens and tongues, where shall we find any more eloquent and copious? if Virtue, who more holy? Finally if we regard Authority, none did ever carry more sway in the Church of God than they two, nor ever shall.  
14. S. Hierome in one of his Epistles, 
S. Paulinus.  giveth us to understand that S. Paulinus Bishop of Nola, a Gascon by nation, was also a Monk. For writing to him as to a Monk, 
S. Hierome Ep. 13.  and not as to a Bishop as yet, he commendeth him for changing his coat together with his mind, and for glorying in poverty both of spirit and of works; & adviseth him to avoid the company of Secular people, and particularly of great men. For how (saith he) can it be necessary for you to behold the things often, by contempt whereof you began to be a Monk? His own writings do sufficiently testify his learning, and eloquence▪ and his virtue is admirable in many things, which he did, but chiefly for selling himself to the Barbarians to redeem a widow's son; which fact of his is highly extolled, and not without great reason, by S. Augustin, and S. Gregory.  
15. I have cause to rank that great S. Martin Bishop of Tours with the rare and excellent men of that Age: 
S. Martin.  for though he had not tha● Learning which people get in Schools, yet he was so stored with Learning insused from heaven, that he did both preach, and dispute, and discharge all other parts belonging to the office of a Bishop with great applause, which could not be done without Learning. And first he began a Monastery at Milan, and being thrust out from thence by Maxentius the Arrian, he erected an other at Poitiers, and a third at Tours after he was Bishop. Where, notwithstanding he was Bishop (as Sulpitius writeth, who was inwardly acquainted with him) he observed Religious discipline to hi● dying day, together with fourscore other Monks, and in extreme rigour of poverty, whereas most of them were nobly borne, and daintily bred.  

john Cassian.  16. john Cassian lived much about the same time, a Scythian borne, but for his style to be reckoned among the best Latinists. First he was scholar to S. john Chrysostome, and afterwards built a monastery at Marseils; in the ordering and governing whereof no doubt but he put in practise all that which he had set down in writing of the speeches and conversation of the holy Fathers; which every body knows how much perfection it contains.  

Eucherius  17. Eucherius Bishop of Lions, chosen out of the Monastery of Lerin to that Pastoral charge, was famous in his time (which was about the year Four hundred and fifty) and is yet to this day for the many learned Books, which he hath left written.  

Prosp●r.  18. Prosper Bishop of Rhegio lived about the same time, and as Histories report of him, was first a Monk, and then Secretary to Pope Leo the Great, & penned many of his Epistles.  
19 Not many years after, to wit, about the year Five hundred, S. Fulgentius was renowned in afric and throughout the whole world. 
S. Fulgentius of Ruspae.  The passages of his life, and his writings, are full of great learning, which he showed chiefly against Heretics, from whom also he su●lered many things with great constancy, and esteemed so highly of a Religious course of life, that he still practised it all the while he was Bishop.  

Cassiodorus.  20. Cassiodorus. was full as famous as he, once a Senator of Ravenna, and Chancellor to Th●odorick king of Italy; but detesting his company after that he had slain B●et●us, and forsaking him, and the world also, he founded the Monastery of Clas●is for the Benedi●tin-Monks, which were new begun, and entered himself into the Order; a man rare for all Secular learning while he was in the world, and afterwards also for Divinity, as his Works which are yet extant do witness. He lived in the year Five hundred and fi●tie.  
21. Who can commend S. Gregory the Great as he deserveth, 
 who lived some fi●tie years af●er? or who can sufficiently admire his sanctity, or the abundance of his learning, derived to the benefit of all posterity, in so many Books as he hath left written? But we shall have occasion to speak of him again among the Popes.  

S. Gregory 〈…〉  22. S. Gregory of ●our● lived also in his time and was placed in that Bishopric out of a Monastery; and there be many things yet extant which testify his great learning.  

Eutropius.  23. In Spain Religion hath had the honour to have Eutropius, first consecreate! to our Saviour Christ from his youth, than Abbot, afterwards Bishop of Vale●● about the year Six hundred and ten.  

Isi●orus.  24. Isidorus also, after he had spent much of his life in a Religious course, was made Archbishop of Sevil. 
Ild●●onsus.  S. Ildefonsus was his scholar, and imitated his virtues with so great benefit to himself and others, that he was created Archbishop of 〈◊〉. His learned writings are yet to be seen; and among others his Book of the Virginity of our B. Lady▪ whose dear servant he was; and it is recorded of him, that when he had written that Book, our B. Lady appeared unto him, holding the Book in her hand, and thanked him for the pains he had taken in setting forth her praises.  
25. About the same time Caesarius was famous in France; 
Caesarius.  he was first a Monk, than Abbot of Lerin, afterwards Bishop of Arles; a learned and a holy man, and doubtless very eloquent.  
26. England also hath had rare men bred-up in Religious Orders, 
Veneralls Bede.  as S. Bede, who died in the year Seven hundred thirty three. From seven years of age, when he first entered into Religion, till he was fourscore and twelve (for so long he lived) he spent his whole time in Learning and virtuous exercises, and hath left so many volumes so learnedly written, that he is in a manner held to be another S. Augustin. And we may gather, what esteem the world had of him, by that, while he was yet living, his writings were read publicly throughout the Churches of England, together with the holy Fathers. And because in his life-time he could not be styled Saint, they styled him Venerable; which title remaineth still in his Works after his death. But that he was blind, as the vulgar report of him, is altogether false and forged.  
27. S. Anselm● also flourished in England about the year One thousand and fourscore. 
S. Anselm●.  He was first a Monk, than chosen Archbishop of Canterbury; and by the holiness of his life and learnedness of his writings, which are yet extant, hath gotten himself much renown, and done much honour to Religion.  
28. And besides these, there have been many others in several Religious Families, that coupling rare Virtue with no less exquisite Learning, have shined, and do yet shine, in the Catholic Church, as stars to give light in the night of this our pilgrimage. For what did S. Thomas of Aquin, or S. Bonaventure, and many others, want for learning or holiness, that they may not be compared with them that are more ancient? But we shall speak of them in another place.  
29. Now we will conclude this Chapter with joyful acknowledgement and admiration, beholding with what rare men, or as the Apostle speaketh, with what Pillars Religious Orders have furnished holy Church, 
〈◊〉. 2.9.  and embellished it and themselves. For by that, which hath been said, we may perceive, that of the Four Greek Doctors, three of them were Religious, and also three of the Four Latin Doctors; and moreover that the far greater part of the holiest and learnedst men were in like manner Religious.   

Of Kings and Princes, that have been Religious. CHAP. XXVI.  
ALL souls, as they are in nature equal, are of equal esteem with God; and if he seem at any time to make a difference betwixt them, we shall find that he rather maketh choice of the poor then of the rich; of those that are abject and contemptible in the world, 
Ez●●h. 18.  then of them that are in honour and dignity. 
Why Religion joined with Nobility is so admired.  And yet, I know not how, the better a man is borne, and the more nobly he is descended, he is the more admired and applauded, if he be also virtuous; either because it is a harder thing for him to be so, or for the reason, which S. Augustin giveth, because such people being known to many, they lead many to salvation by their example, & make way for many to follow them; and therefore there is much joy of them, because the joy is not of them alone. 
S. Augustin 8. Cons ●. 4.  And the Enemy is more overcome in one of whom he hath more hold, & by whom he holdeth more; & he hath more hold of the proud by occasion of their nobility; and holdeth more by their means in regard of their authority. And this is the reason, that God of his infinite goodness hath called many of these also to Religious courses, to the end he may not seem to have abandoned the powerful, as job speaketh, himself being powerful; and that Religion might not want the grace of Secular Nobility; 
job 36.5.25.  and finally that the force and efficacy of the Grace of God might show itself the more, in breaking through such main obstacles, as stand in great men's ways betwixt them and heaven. To which purpose S. Bernard in a certain Epistle of his directed to a company of young Noblemen, 
S Bernar●●p ●●●.  that had newly put themselves into the Cistercian Order, writeth thus: I have read, that God chose not many noble men, not many wise men, not ma●ie powerful; but now by the wonderful power of God, contrary to the ordinary course, a multitude of such people is converted. The glory of this present life waxeth contemptible, the flower of youth is trodden under foot, nobility not regarded, the wisdom of the world accounted folly, fl●sh and blood rejected, the affection to friends and kinsfolk renounced; favour, honour, dignity, esteemed as dung, that Christ may be gained. And S. Hierome admired the same in his time in these words: In our Age Rome hath that, 
S. H●●rome 〈◊〉 26.  which the world knew not before. In old time among Christians there were but few wise men, few great men, few noble men; now there be many Monks that are wise, and great, and noble.  
2. This is therefore the subject, which we have now in hand, to set down the names of those, out of ancient Records, that forsaking the honours and titles, which the world doth so much admire, have triumphed over it, and (to use S Bernard's word) by the contempt of glory, are more gloriously exalted, and more sublimely glorified. And first we will speak of Emperors, then of Kings, and lastly of inferior Princes; wherein if our discourse prove of the longest, I hope the pleasantness thereof will so allay and temper it, that it will rather seem too short and concise.  
3. Many of the Grecian Emperors, 
Grecian Emperoura Religious.  as we find recorded, have lead a Monastical life, as Anastasius in the year Seven hundred and fifteen; Theodosius not long after; Michael in the year Eight hundred; and an other Michael in One thousand and forty; Isaacius Commenus in One thousand and threescore; and diverse others. But because some of them were in some sort forced to that course of life, others though they freely chose and professed it, yet lived not in that union with the Latin Church as they ought to have done, we will not insist upon any of them, but pass to the Emperors of the West established in the year Eight hundred by Pope Leo the Third in the person of Charles the Great, King of France.  
4. The first therefore of the Latin Emperors that professed a Religious life, 
Western Emperors.  was Lotharius, from whom the Province of Lotharingia or Lorraine is so called, 
Lothariu●●▪  whereas before it was called Austrasia. He governed the Empire fifteen years, and was a just and virtuous Prince; and remembering, as it is thought, the speech which Lew●● his father had held unto him (while he lay dying) of the vanity of this World, himself having found it true by his own experience, he resolved to quit all earthly things, and to betake himself into the quiet haven of Religion, from the tempestuous toils of the Empire. And to the astonishment of the whole world, he retired himself into the Monastery of Pr●m●; leading the rest of his life in Poverty and Obedience. He lived about the year Eight hundred threescore and five.  
5. In the year Nine hundred and twenty, 
Hugo.  Hugo King of Provence and Emperor, having gotten much renown for Martial affairs, and being glorious for many victories, builded a great Monastery, wherein himself embracing the humility of CHRIST, exchanged his Imperial Robes and Dominions with a solitary Celle, and the poor Habit of a Monk.  
6. ●●chisius was the first king in Italy (that I know of) that became a Monk. 
〈…〉 king of Italy.  He was a Lombard, and so powerful, that he had a great part of Italy sub●●ct unto him. It is conceived, that this change began in him upon a pa●ley which he had with Pope Zacharie, who held the Sea of Rome in the year Seven hundred forty one. For presently thereupon leaving the sio●e of Perusia, he returned to Pavia, and disposing of his kingdom to his brother Astulp●us, he retired himself to the Monastery of Mount-Cassin, whereof it is thought that he was afterward Abbot.  
7. Pipin king of Italy and eldest son to Charles the Great, 
Pipin.  king of France, in the year Eight hundred and five, followed his example, and after much honour gotten in war, frighted notwithstanding with the many dangers which he saw were incident to so great a power, he betook himself to a Monastery, which he had built at Verona in honour of S. Zeno, and had given it a good foundation.  
8. In Spain king Bamba having reigned eleven years, 
Bamba.  and showed himself a valiant King both at home and abroad, and among other victories defeated two hundred sail of African Pirates, and taken king Paul alive, that came against him out of France, preferred a Monastical life before all this, wherein having lived holily seven years, he went to receive his eternal reward the year Six hundred seventy four.  
9 And in the year Seven hundred eighty six, 
Veremund.  the same Spain showed us an other example of the like conversion in Veremund King of Castille, of whom we also read that he gave his voice for his cousin Alphonsus rather to succeed him then his own two children that were under age, because so it was better for his subjects, then to be governed by children.  

Ramirez.  10. About the year One thousand one hundred and fifty, Ramirez King of Arragon became twice a Monk: first in his youth, while his father Don Sanc●● was yet alive, who afterwards dying without issue, and one Peter being chosen King and not long after deposed for his pride and arrogancy, this Ramirez was by the Pope's authority taken out of his Monastery, and crowned King, and also married; of which marriage having had a daughter, he gave her his kingdom in marriage for her portion; retiring himself to his former quiet life in his Monastery, as having discharged himself sufficiently of so great a work.  

Kings of England Religious.  11. England hath been more fertile of these examples than any other Country. For first while the land was as yet divided into many kingdoms, Sigebert King of the Northumber's, a man renowned for his learning, and muc● more for virtue, having about the year Six hundred and forty established many good orders in his kingdom for the service of God, consecreated himself also unto him in a Monastery; of whom among other things it is recorded, that when not long after Penda King of the Mercians invaded the Northumb●●● with a great army, 
Sigebert.  the whole Country had their eye upon Sigebert, and compelled him for the glory of God to take upon him the defence of the kingdom in so great an occasion of danger, he went therefore into the field to fight for the Christian cause, but in the selfsame habit which he wore in the Monastery, and governed the whole army with his staff in his hand, without any other armour; and whereas (God so disposing) the Christian army was overthrown, he also together with the King was slain in battle, and is therefore by some reckoned among the holy Martyrs.  

Ethelred.  12. In the year Seven hundred and four, Ethelred King of the Merciful with like devotion, having governed the kingdom diverse years very religiously, left it to Chemed his brother's son before he was yet of age, and betook himself to a Monastery that was within the same his Dominion, wherein he profited so far in virtue, that he was made afterwards Abbot.  

Chemed.  13. Chemed being more ambitious of this latter course of life which his Uncle lead, then of the former, when he had reigned five years, went to Rome, and received the habit of a Monk of Pope Constantine the first, and spent the rest of his days in that City in great sanctity.  

Offa.  14. Offa King of the Eastsaxons accompanied him in his journey and in his holy purpose and in the flower of his age, and the height of his world 〈◊〉 prospetitie, contemning and treading all under foot, was by the same Pope 〈◊〉 haven a Monk, and Clothed with a Monastical weed.  

Inas.  15. Not long after, to wit, in the year Seven hundred and forty, Inas King of the same Eastsaxons, renowned in war and peace, and so memorable for his devotion towards that Sea of Rome, that he voluntarily made his whole kingdom tributary unto it, went himself in person to Rome; and resigning his kingdom, took upon him a Religious course of life with a great fervour, to the end the more naked he was, he might the more freely follow our Saviour, that vouchsafed to be naked for our sakes.  
16. The like did Ceolulf King of the Northumber's, 
Ceolulf.  to whom Venerable Bede dedicated his History. For having reigned eight years, wearied with worldly affairs, and desirous of a quiet life, he fled to Religion, and left his kingdom to his Uncle egbert; 
egbert.  who also when he had held it twenty years, followed the same course with Ceolulf, and was professed a Monk in the selfsame Monastery. All these we have out o● England only.  
17. Out of Germany we have a rare example in Charlemagne son to Charles Martel. 
Charlemagne.  He was King of Austrasia and Suevia, famous for many noble acts; but taken with the love of heavenly things, he went to Rome as a poor private man; and receiving Holy Orders of Pope Zacharie, and the habit of a Monk, he built a Monastery in the Mount-●oracte, and there spent part of his da●e●; but finding himself encumbered with many visits, by reason he dwelled so near the City, and his spiritual quiet much disturbed, he removed to Mount-Cass●●s; where Petronax Abbot of that pl●●e entertained him with great joy and comfort; and the profit which there 〈◊〉 made in all kind of virtue, but chiefly in humility, is very wonderful. We read in the Annals of that Monastery, that (so great a man as he was) by commandment of his Abbot he was appointed to be a shepherd or heares-man, & attended to that business with far more alacrity, than ever he did to the affairs of his kingdom; and on a time one of the sheep falling lame, he took it upon his shoulders, and carried it to the fold, nothing reflecting upon the nastiness of the business. He lived about the year of our Saviour, Seven hundred and fifty.  
18. What shall we say of Trebellius King of the Bulgarians, 
Trebellius▪  who in the year Ei●ht hundred threescore and two, by means of Pope N●colas the First embraced the Christian Faith with so much fervour, that he presently banished Photinus the Heretic out of his kingdom; and delivering his Sceptre to his son, bound himself to the service of God alone; and finding not long after, that his son was fallen again to his former impiety, he grieved exceedingly, and took it so to hart, that leaving his Monastery, and recovering his kingdom, laying hold on the young man, he caused both his eyes to be pulled out, and condemned him to perpetual imprisonment; finally feeling the kingdom upon a younger son called Alber●us, and giving him wholesome Instructions, he retired himself again to his Colle.  
19 These are the Kings that in ancient time embraced a Religious life: for in la●er Ages these kind of examples are far more seldom to be seen. 
john Prena King of Jerusalem etc.  And yet we find it recorded, that john Prena King of Jerusalem and Emperor of Constantinople was a Franciscan-Friar. For S. Francis appearing once visibly unto him while he was at his prayers, and offering him his habit, he presently sent for his Ghostly Father, and took that habit upon him; and not long after died of a fever, and coming as it were at the Eleventh hour, received notwithstanding his hire.  
Henry King of Cyprus was yet more happy; 
Henry K. of Cyprus.  for he lived many years in that holy Institute, and is glorious both for virtue and miracles.  
20. Finally john king of Armenia is not to be left out, 
john King of Armenia.  whose kingdom was so large, that he had four and twenty kings under him, all crowned with Princely Diadems; but he forsaking so great a kingdom & resigning it to his nephew Leo, chose to be abject in the house of God, and rather to serve for his love, then to rule over others. The Turks breaking into the Country, and Leo not being able to make head against them, john seeing God's cause in danger, putteth armour over his Religious weed, and after this new fashion going into the field, is master of it with very great loss on the enemy's side; but following the victory (it pleased God) he was slain in a certain skirmish, and so went to enjoy the reward of Heaven.  

Three sons of Charles the Great.  21. Next after Kings and Emperors, their sons do follow: many of them having preferred a Religious life before all worldly honour. And first Charles the Great had three of his sons that were Monks: Hugo, Drogo, and Pip●n. The two first embraced that course of their own accord, Pipin was at first compelled unto it by his father (because he had thought to make himself King afterwards) when he had tasted of that quiet life and found it sweet, he willingly continued in it. They all lived about the year Eight hundred and thirty.  

Three sons of Vibian King of Ireland  22. The three sons of Vibian king of Ireland, were all of them Monks, and all of them Saints; Froscus, Folliang, and ultan. They in the year Six hundred and fifty, forsaking their Country came into France, and were courteously entertained by Clou●s then king, who also giving them choice of a place, where they would make their abode, they built the Monastery of Pontiny, and there chose their seat. But the holy contention which happened betwixt the two sons of a British king, about the year Six hundred fifty seven, is very rare and memorable. ●or judaellus succeeding his father in the kingdom discovereth to his brother a purpose which he had of entering into Religion, willing him to prepare himself to take the government upon him of the kingdom, which shortly he would leave him; joice desired his brother to give him eight days term to consider of the business; 
A notable example.  and in the mean time, preventing his brother, he betook himself privately to a Monastery, to the end he might not be hindered of his resolution, thinking with himself, that if the fortune of a King were such, as it was best for his brother to forsake it, it could not be good for him to accept of it.  

Two s●nnes of Richard K. of England  23. Richard also king of England had two sons that were Religious in the year Eight hundred and two; one of them by name Willebald professed in Mount-Cass●n, the other V●ebald at Magdebourg in Saxony.  

Two son of Charl●● King of 〈…〉  24. No less noble were the two brethren Clotaire and Carleman sons of Charles King of France in the year Eight hundred forty one, both of them preferring the yoke of Religion before their Royal Sceptres. And in the number we may place Frederick son of Lew●s King of France, in the year Nine hundred threescore and two▪ and Henry son of an other Lewis King of the same Country, though somewhat later, to wit, in the year One thousand one hundred and fifty.  

 25. The first that we read of, that entered among the Franciscan-Friars, was 〈◊〉 eldest son of the King of Mallorca, who though by right he was to have succeeded in the Kingdom, preferred the Kingdom of heaven before it, and entered, as I said, into the Order of S. Francis▪ and leading therein a very holy life, did much good also to his Neighbours, both by word and example.  
26. An other of the same Order was Lewis, 
S. Lewis, Bishop of 〈◊〉.  eldest son also of Charles the Second King of France, a man of singular parts, both for body and mind. He, while he was left in Spain for a pledge, resolved upon this wholesome course of Religion, and the Franciscan-Friars still differing him, for the respect which they bore to the King, he bound himself publicly more than once by Vow unto it. And when afterwards in the year One thousand two hundred ninety seven Pope Boniface the Eight presented him with the Archbishopric of Toulcuse, he would not accept of it, unless they would first agree, that he might enter among the Franciscan-Friars, according to his former Vow; and so taking the habit in a great assembly of the Nobility, he never left it of, but together with the weed continued also the rigour of the life belonging unto it, and mingled Religious exercises with his Episcopal cares.  
27. His nephew Peter son to the King of Arragon followed his example, 
Peter son to the King of Arragon.  in the year One thousand three hundred fifty seven. And it is recorded of him, that, while he was in deliberation of abandoning the world, and hung doubtful in the contention of flesh and spirit, as it happeneth to very many, this S. Lewis appeared unto him in the night with some of the Brethren of his Order, all in great glory, and encouraged him to take that course of life, which was in Heaven so highly rewarded; and so he did not long after, and lived in Religion twenty years, to the great benefit of himself and many others, for that he was a great preacher, and inflamed many in the love of God by his sermons.  
28. It is not possible to name or number all the Dukes, 
Princes of inferior degree.  and Lords, and inferior Princes, that have led a Religious life; yet we will point at some by the way. Of this degree was Algerius, Duke of Aquitaine, and his son Amandus, in the year Four hundred thirty nine; also Anselm Duke 〈◊〉 Mode●na, Anno Seven hundred and forty; Dietland and Ancigard, Dukes of Suevia, in the year Eight hundred and fifteen; Vig●sius Duke of Spoleto, in the year ●ight hundred and twenty; william Duke of Gasconie in the year Four hundred and forty; and after him another william, Second of that name, in the year Nine hundred and twelve; of whom it is recorded, that in the Monastery of Clunie he led so humble a life, that he was ever subject 〈◊〉 the least and lowest; and being by his Abbot put to bake some bread, he was so quick and exact in obeying, that because he had not a mowkin at hand, he crept into the oven hot glowing as it was, and swept it with his coat, and was not hurt, nor any thing endomaged by the fire.  
29. Many others of the same rank have been Monks, 
Great men of S. Francis his O●der.  but it were long to rehearse them all; wherefore we will pass to those that have been of S. Francis his Order, and reckon-up a few of them: as william Duke of Burgundy; G●●salue Marin● a Portugez; Adulphus Count of Alsatia, who entering among the Franciscans about the year One thousand two hundred and fifty, among other virtues was much given to Mortification; and once in particular going through his own City with a pitcher of milk which he had begged about the town, he met his three sons, whom he had left in the world, walking the streets with great state; and because he began a little to be ashamed, to overcome himself therein, he listed the pitcher up to his head, and poured it all upon himself. And many such rare men have been of this Order.  

And of the Society of JESUS.  30. And in this our least Society of JESUS, within these few years since it was founded, there have not been a few Noblemen called unto it. But the prime man of them all was Francis Borgia Duke of Gandie, who being in great favour and esteem with Charles the fifth in Spain, 
Fa. Francis Borgia, Duke of Gandie.  to the astonishment of all beholders, laying aside all his greatness, embraced the humble state of a Religious life, and profited exceedingly in it. The reason why he chose to enter into the Society before all other Religious Orders, was this, which himself gave to the Emperor, and I have it by relation from his own mouth in my hearing. If a man, that had many fruitful vineyards, should moreover resolve to plant an orchard, for his own private pleasure and contentment, you could not do him a greater courtesy then to present him with a slip or tree to plant in it; Our Lord therefore having lately planted this orchard of the Society, after so many other ancient & worthy vineyards of other Orders, I thought with myself (saith he) that it could not but be very grateful unto him, if I presented myself, such as I am, as a tree to be planted in it. Of the same rank of Dukes was Antony de Cordova, 
Antony de Cordova son to the Duke of Feria.  son to the Duke of ●eria, a man of singular virtue. And in Italy we had Fa. Rodulphus Aquaviua son to the Duke of Atri, which is one of the ancientest and noblest Families in the kingdom of Naples. He was called to Religion with such abundance of the spirit of God, that he could not by any means or force be diverted from it, though much was used to withdraw him. And having in a short time profited exceedingly in all kind of virtue, 
R●phe Aquaviua son to the Duke of Atri.  by his own importunity, as I may say, he was sent into the East-Indies; where he lead so holy a life, that not only those of our Society, and all other Christians, but the very Heathens themselves did admire him, and commonly called him the Angel. At last being sent to the Lands of Salsedo to preach the Christian Faith, he was killed with some others of the Society by the inhabitants that were Mahometans, in hatred of Christian Religion; adorning his former life, and all his Religious virtues with the crown of a most certain and most glorious Martyrdom. There be diverse others also in our Society of like Nobility, descended from Dukes, and Marquesses, and other Princes, but because they are all yet living, and we live and converse daily with them, Civility, neither of our part, nor of theirs, will not suffer us to name them: but we must obey the Counsel of the Wiseman, 
E●cl. 11.  where he saith: Praise no man before his death. Wherefore passing the rest in silence, we will remember only one that is lately dead, to wit, 
Andrew Spinola.  Andrew Spinola, a prime man of Genua for his birth; and of Rome, in regard of the place which he bore in that Court next to the Cardinals, and as it were in the very entrance to a Cardinalship. But he contemning both the honour in which he was, and the preferment which he might have hoped, stooped rather to Religious discipline; and set the world and the vanity thereof so much at scorn, that not long after, he went twice about the streets of Rome in an old tattered coat, begging his bread from door to door; which struck such an admiration into all Rome, that people for some days could talk of nothing else; and a certain Preacher discoursing of that place of the Prophet E●●y: Futrie ●il and every hillock shall be humbled, did not stick to point at this our Spinola, as to one of the hills and hillocks, which had humbled themselves by the 〈◊〉 of our Saviour. But it is time to draw to a conclusion, for as I said before, there have been so many of this degree of Nobility, both in elder and latter times, that shunning the waves and shelves of this world, have surged with excessive joy at the port of Religion, that, if we should go abou● to rehearse them all, we must resolve to make a whole long Volume of it by itself.   

Of Noble women that have lived in Religion. CHAP. XXVII.  
AFTER so many rare examples of men, we will speak also of some women, both because they have been in their kind a great ornament to a Religious state, and because the more infirm their sex is, the more encouragement doth it give to men, to employ themselves in all kind of virtue.  
2. The Empress Theodora doth first offer herself. 
Theodora Empress.  For being married to Theophilus an Heretic Emperor about the year Eight hundred and fourscore, she kept herself always constant to the Catholic Faith; and after his decease, she did wonderfully advance the Catholic cause, chiefly by restoring the use of holy Images, and recalling holy men from their places of banishment. And having for some years governed the Empire, she of her own accord laid down all that state and power, and shut herself up in the monastery, where her mother Trurina had given herself to God before her.  
3. Augusta an other Empress practised the like devotion, 
Augusta.  not weighing the infancy and lonenes of her son, after Isaacius her husband's death: but appointing him certain Tutors, withdrew herself out of the world. When Alexius (for so was her son called) came of age, the Tutors would by no means give-up the administration of the Empire; wherefore by her son's entreaty returning to Court, she took the government into her own hands again, retaining notwithstanding her Religious purposes and practice, her veil and her whole Monastical weed; till finding means to establish the government upon her son, she returned to her Monastery about the year One thousand one hundred and ninety. And these two were out of the East.  
4. In the West we find, 
Richard.  that Richard wife to the Emperor Charles le Grosse, being brought into suspicion that she had been false unto him, easily cleared herself; but yet made use of the occasion to quit his marriage, as she had long desired; and retiring herself into Halsatia, built a monastery, wherein she lead a Religious life about the year Eight hundred ninety nine.  
5. The case of Cunegundes wife to Henry King of England first, 
Cunegundes.  than afterwards Emperor, in the year One thousand one hundred thirty nine, was not unlike to this. For divorcing herself from him upon the like suspicion and fault, which was cast upon her, she made a better marriage with Christ our Saviour.  

S. Cunegundes.  6. And yet another Cunegundes was more happy about the year One thousand one hundred and twenty. For being married to the Emperor Henry the First, she lived many years with him, and kept her virginity; and he dying before her, she lead so holy a life for fifteen years together in the Monastery of Confugium, that she is registered among the Saints in the Church of God.  

Agnes.  7. Agnes wife to the Emperor Henry the Third, governed the Empire after his decease, according as he had left in his Will, till his son (who at the time of his death was but an infant) came to twelve years of age; and then giving over the charge of the Empire, and also the Dukedom of Baviere, which belonged unto her, she went to Rome, and there chose to live in the humility of a Monastical life, in the year One thousand one hundred fifty seven.  

Eliz●beth.  8. The like did Elizabeth wife to the Emperor Albertus the First, & Archduke of Austria; for he being most lamentably slain, she bade the world Farewell, and lived a heavenly life in a Monastery, which herself had built, in the year One thousand two hundred and ninety. Two of her daughters followed her example, the one married to the King of Hungary, the other to the Count of Ottighen; & two of her grandchilds, the Queen of Polonia, and her daughter, though she were sure to the Duke of Vratislaw.  

T●s●a.  9 Now from Empresses to come to Queens; in Italy T●sia wife to Rachisins (of whom we spoke before) following the example of her husband, would not be far-off from him neither in distance of place. For as he retired himself into the monastery of Mount-Cassin, so she with her daughter Re●●uda hid herself in a Monastery, which was not far distant, wherein S. Scholastica had sometimes lived, and she had restored, and there she spent her days in great sanctity.  

Radegundes.  10. In France in the year Five hundred twenty five, Radegundes being married against her will to king Clo●●re, after some years by much importunity get his consent, and retired herself to Poitiers, and there gave herself to God with great fervour and earnestness of devotion, that in a short time she arrived to a high degree of perfection in virtue, as it is recorded of her.  

Adocra.  11. Not many years after her, Adocra wife to Chilperick king of France, together with her daughter Child●rade forsaking their Prince's pleasures, be taken themselves to the same heavenly profession. 
Batilda.  And Batilda about the year Six hundred and fifty, by the decease of king Clovis, remaining as it were at liberty, and with full power to perform what she had always desired from her infancy, she went to Calais, and enlarging a Monastery, which was there already built, the joined herself to a better Spouse our Saviour, and was famous for all kind of virtue, but specially for her humility.  
12. In Spain we find recorded of two Queens that were also Religious; Nunez wife to Ver●mund, of whom we spoke before; for she entered 〈◊〉 her husband, and was no little encouragement unto him by her example; And Peresa, who being by her brother Alfonso king of Leon, married to A●●●●●las king of Toledo (a More or Saracen) she not being able by all the entreaties & protestations, which she did allege to hinder it, God did hinder it. 〈…〉 the Barbarous king a most grievous and deadly sickness; whereby he 〈◊〉 it was the hand of God, sent Teresa back again untouched; & she presently espoused herself according to her desire to our Saviour, in the Monastery of S. Pelayo, in the year One thousand and six.  
13. But it is strange to see how many of these like examples we have out of England; 
English exampler. Alfred.  as of Alfred Spouse to the King of the Northumber's, who was slain before they were bedded together, in the year Six hundred and seventy; and Ethelburg, 
Ethelburg.  who persuaded king Inas to the resolution which he took, as we said before, and afterwards followed his example in the like course. But what can be more strange than that which happened to Etheldred, 
Etheldred.  who being wife to two Kings kept her virginity with them both, and obtained of the second, after twelve years that they had been married together, leave to go live among other Virgins in a Monastery? What a life may we imagine she lived in the Monastery, that was so great a Saint in her worldly kingdom? And she is also registered among the Saints by Holy Church. She lived about the year Seven hundred and six.  
14. Sesburg her sister, Queen of Kent, followed her not long after, so soon as her husband was dead. And alfred Queen of the Mercians and Northumber's is not to be omitted, who, like another Magdalen, to redeem her former offences, and, among the rest, the unjust murder of her young innocent son-in-law, lead an austere life among other servants of Christ, in a Monastery, which herself had built at her own proper cost and charge, about the year of our Lord Nine hundred seventy five.  
15. It were long and tedious to rehearse all the King's daughters, which both in England and other Countries have consecrated themselves to God in Monasteries; the number of them is so very great. Wherefore passing those in silence, which are more ancient, we will mention a few only of those that are of later memory. 
Margaret daughter to the King of Hungary.  Margaret daughter to Bela king of Hungary is famous among the Nuns of S. Dominicks Order for her rare virtue, and shineth like a star in the firmament. For of eight and twenty years, which she lived, she spent four and twenty in Religion, being vowed thereunto by her parents, when she was but four year old. But the Nobility of her blood was the least thing in her; for the Sanctity of her life, and the rigour which she used in punishing her body both by continual fasting and with whips like spurs, is far more conspicuous, & her profound humility which she chiefly showed in tending the sick; being always given to such like humble and charitable offices; the practice whereof was far more to be admired in her, than her Princely descent. And it is recorded of her, that out of the great esteem which she had of this Religious course of life, she constantly refused the marriage of three Kings, to wit, of Poland, of Bohemia, and of Sicily; and when it was offered her, that there should be a dispensation procured from the Pope for her Vows, she answered resolutly, that she would rather cutof her nose and her lips, and pul-out her eyes, then yield her consent to be married to any creature. She died in the year One thousand two hundred and seventy.  
15. In the year One thousand three hundred forty three, 
Sancha.  Sancha Queen of Sicily and Jerusalem, a few months after the decease of Robert her husband, put on the habit of S. Francis his Order at Naples, professing the Poverty and Rule of S. Clare; by which Rule none of them can possess any thing as their own, not so much as in common. It is reported of her, that ●ut of humility she earnestly begged of the General of the Order, that he would forbid every body very severely from calling her any more Queen, and that they should call her Sister as the rest.  

Agnes.  17. No less was the virtue of Agnes daughter to Orethus King of Bohemia, about the year One thousand two hundred and forty. For being given in marriage to Frederick the Second, she would never yield her consent, but vowed Virginity in a Monastery of the same Order of S. ●rancis in Prague. 
C●●●gundes.  The like is recorded of Cunegundes daughter and wife to a King; for being daughter to the King of Hungary, and espoused to Bol●●laus, surnamed the Chaste, King of Poland, she kept her Virginity undefiled together with him, and afterwards lead also a Religious life in a Monastery, which herself had founded.  

joan.  18. joan also daughter to the King of Navarre, preferring the heavenly before the earthly kingdom, vowed herself to the service of God in a Monastery in Paris, to her own excessive benefit, and great astonishment of all the world. Isabel daughter to the King of France, 
Isabel.  and sister to S. Lewis, despising the world took up the Cross of Christ in the same Order, and lived with so great fervour in it, 
Blan●h.  that she is also famous for miracles. Blanch daughter of Philip King of France followed the same footsteps about the year One thousand three hundred and fifteen.  
1●. And of late years our Age hath been ennobled with no less rare an example (with which I will conclude) in the person of Margaret of Austria daughter to Maximilian the Emperor; 
Margaret.  and Marie sister to Philip King of Spain. She, notwithstanding her so noble Extraction, contemning worldly marriages and all earthly things, vowed Virginity a few years ago in the Order of S. Clare, in a Monastery, where the ancient rigour of that Order is severely kept, and persevereth therein to this very day with great commendation of virtue.  
20. What therefore can be more beautiful in the eye of the mind, or more delightful to men or Angels, then to behold so great a Majesty and so great Power voluntarily stooping to a Habit so contemptible, and to so poor a Celle, and such humble offices as are incident to such a state of life? 
〈◊〉. 15.  Certainly, if there be joy in heaven of one sinner, that turning to God, beginneth but to lay the first foundations of virtue; how much more joy must there needs be at the practice of virtues so heroical and so absolutely perfect in all kinds?   

Of Popes, that have been taken out of Religious Orders. CHAP. XXVIII.  
HITHERTO we have spoken of Secular Nobility, and showed how Religion hath been graced by the entrance of people of great rank in the world, into it. Now we are to show, that it hath received no less honour by those, that out of Religious courts have been exalted to high dignities and promotions in the Church. And first we will speak of Popes, because it cannot but be a great honour to be assumed to that dignity, to which on earth there is none to be compared, being inferior to none but God, and sustaining so weighty a burden as must needs require a great wisdom coupled with no less sanctity and holiness of life. And consequently as a House or Family, and all the kindred belonging unto it, be it never so mean and poor before, is raised in the opinion and esteem of the world, and made noble, by one man's promotion to this great honour and dignity; why may we not say and think the same of every Religious Family? a Religious man having full as much relation unto the Religion wherein he is professed, as to his native House and stock, and by means thereof arrived to so high promotion, as many as from thence have been assumed unto it.  
2. The first Pope therefore that without all question was a Religious man (for I purposely speak not of those, of whom there is any doubt) was, as we find recorded, Dionysius a Grecian borne, 
Dionysius.  two hundred and threescore years after Christ who possessing that Sea ten years, is said to have ordained many good things both at Rome and in other places; and is chiefly memorable for opposing himself in the Council of Antioch against the Heresy of Paulus Samosatenus, who then began to spread his pernicious doctrine, & endeau ●uted to take away the Divinity of our Saviour Christ. Afterward suffering also death for Christ, he had a double Crown, of Martyrdom and of Religion.  
3. In the year Five hundred seventy five, 
Benedictus 1.  Benedict the First, a Roman borne, having been a Monk, was created Pope in most woeful times, when all I alley was in combustion by means of war; and having fate at the stern four years, he went to heaven.  
4. divers Authors, and in particular the Book which is entitled the Pontifical Chair (wherein the succession of all the Popes is exactly set down) do make mention, 
Pelagius 2.  that Pelagius the Second (whose scholar & successor was S. Gregory) was chosen Pope out of a monastery of Monks. He was made Pope in the year Five hundred seventy nine; and sat ten years.  
5. Next after him succeeded S. Gregory the Great, 
S. Gregory the Gr●at.  who had been a Monk in Rome in the Monastery of S. Andrew, and lived according to the Rule of S. Benedict. What shall we need to repeat the famous things which he performed during his charge, which was thirteen years? his liberality towards the poor, his care in watching over Heresies which were springing up, his courage in opposing himself even against Princes, his patience in corporal infirmities, his endeavour and application in attending to the care of all parts of his flock, his diligence and copiousness in his written Books, and (which graced all the rest) his wonderful modesty and humility, and all kind of true virtue; his miracles also, and wholesome Decrees, seeing they are infinite, and in a manner as known to all, as if he had lived in these our days.  
6. Not much more than two years after him, an other of the same Order of S. Benedict was Pope, to wit, Boniface the Fourth, 
Bonifa●ius 4.  who being bred-up in Rome in the Monastery of S. Sebastian, learned there that virtue and piety, which he afterwards practised in his Pontifical charge; and is recorded to have borne so great an affection to the Religion, out of which he was taken, that he made his father's house into a Monastery, and gave it sufficient rent for the maintenance of it. And having spent six years and some months in such kind of works, he went to receive his reward in heaven.  

Adeodatus  7. Writers do generally agree, that Adeoda●us the First of that name was also a Monk of the Monastery of S. Erasmus in Mount Caelius in Rome, and of so holy a life, that in the height of his honour he practised all kind of virtue belonging to a Religious man, and was renowned specially for his meekness and sweet conversation; and was so great a despiser of worldly wealth, that he spent almost all upon the poor and distressed, and in relieving the Pilgrims that came to Rome. He was Pope four years.  

Agatho.  8. Two years after him Agatho (a Sicilian borne) was chosen out of a Monastery; whose sanctity is testified by diverse miracles, among which that was rare bo●h for power and practise of charity, when vouchsafing to embrace and kiss a leper, whom he met, he presently also cured him. And his constancy was no less in opposing the Heresy of the Monothelites (that said Christ had but one will) and gathering a famous Council at Constantinople for the speedy condemning of them, which is called the sixth Synod. In which his speedy course of Virtue, he was taken away by more speedy death; to wit, after two years and a half that he had been Pope.  

Benedictus 2.  9 Ten months after (in which time Leo the Second sat) Benedict the Second succeeded in the year Six hundred fourscore and three; of whom it is recorded that he lead a Monastical life in Rome from his infancy, and was a singular man both for virtue and learning. The Emperor Constantine made a decree in favour of him, that they should not need to wait for the consent of the Emperors in choosing the Popes, but that the Election of the Clergy and People of Rome should take place without it. But the Church had rather a glimpse then a sight of his rare virtue; for he died after ten months to the great grief and lamentation of every body.  

Gregory the Second and the Third.  10. There f●llowed him two Gregory's, the Second and the Third, the one in the year Seven hundred and sixteen, the other fifteen years after; for so long the former held that Sea, and did much good both in the City of Rome by building Churches and Religious houses, and in the whole Church of God, and specially in Germany, whether he sent S. Boniface a Monk to preach the Faith of Christ, & received the first fruits of Gentility out of that Country with so much contentment, that with his own hand he Baptised them. The sanctity and prowess of the other Gregory did chiefly show itself in the conflict, which he had concerning the Catholic Faith with the Emperor Leo the Third, who was an Heretic, and an enemy of holy Images, for which cause also he deprived him of the Communion with the Faithful, and of his Empire. Yet as none was more courageous than he against his enemies, so none could be more meek, and affable, and liberal towards the poor, and orphans, and widows, he being commonly called the Father and Patron of all such people. He lived in his Pastoral charge almost eleven years. The Book entitled the Pontifical Chair, which we mentioned before, and diverse other Authors relate, that both these Gregory's were Monks.  
11. In the year Seven hundred sixty eight, 
Stephanus 3.  Stephen the Third was promoted to the Sea He was bred-up from a child in the monastery of S. Ch●●sigonus in Rome, and was rare both for virtue and learning, and joining also practise therewithal, was held a wise man; and thereupon was employed in matters of great moment concerning the Church, by three Popes, to wit, Zacharie, Stephen the Second, and Paul. And coming himself to the Popedom thus furnished, it is incredible, how much he did benefit the Church of God both by his exemplar life, and famous deeds; among which we may reckon the Council of Lateran, which he gathered for Reformation of manners in the Church. He also by the strength of his wisdom and courage thrust out one Michael, that had intruded himself into the Archbishopric of Ravenna by favour of some Kings and Princes. And finally after three years and a few months, leaving this world, he left also in the minds of men both a great opinion of his sanctity, and a great desire that he might have continued longer with them.  
12. In the year Eight hundred and seaventeen, 
Paschalis ●  Paschalis the First, by special providence of God, was taken out of the monastery of S. Stephen in Rome, where he was Abbot; and placed in the Pastoral charge over the whole Christian flock, held the place a little more than seven years. A man not only eminent for sanctity and Religion, which a body might justly expect of a Monk, but for his courage, which he showed in suppressing the endeavours of some Secular powers, that would needs challenge a right in the choosing of Popes, whereas no such thing was due unto them. He was also famous for his devotion, and magnificent in building, and adorning Churches.  
13. Four years after this Paschalis, 
Gregori● ●.  Gregory the Fourth was chosen Pope out of the Monastery (as some say) of Fossa-nova, where, many years after, S. Thomas of Aquin died, as is recorded of him. This Pope, as all Writers testify, was eminent in sanctity, learning, wisdom, and eloquence, and all manner of virtue. And when the Barbarians coming over into Sicily, had made themselues masters of the Island, by his means and authority the Prince of Corsica setting upon part of afric, forced them to retire home again to defend their own country. And having thus happily and holily governed the Sea sixteen years, he rested in our Lord.  
14. Four years again after this man's decease, 
Leo 4.  Leo the Fourth was assumed to that dignity out of the Monastery of S. Martin in Rome, and governed the Sea in the great difficulties & dangers, wherein Italy then was by the incursions of barbarous people, that spoiled the whole Country, and threatened the utter destruction of Rome itself; but he put them all to flight, more with his holiness, and with lifting-up his hands to heaven (as another Moses') then by force of arms; and yet afterwards fortified the City of Rome, that it might be the better able to withstand the like incursions. He entered upon his charge in the year Eight hundred forty seven, and held it eight years.  

Leo 5. Tri●h●mius l. 4. de Vir. Ill●c 8. Sylvester 2.  15. And in the year Nine hundred and two, Leo the fifth was chosen, and sat only forty days; who, as Trithemius reporteth, was also a Religious man.  
16. After him Sylvester the Second was the next that was promoted to that Sea from a Monastical course of life, two years before the thousand after Christ. He was bred in France in the Monastery of Floriac, & first made Archbishop of Rheims, then of Ravenna, and then Christ's Vicar over the whole Church; and held the charge four years and six months. He was a man complete in all kind of Learning, as Authors write of him▪ but specially versed in Mathematic & all kind of Philosophy as appears by the Book which he hath left in written hand of Geometry; which Science of his hath been the occasion that people talk that he was a Sorcerer, & that he came by his promotion by sorcery, and by a compact which he had made with the Devil; and at last deceived by the doubtful speeches of the Devil, died miserably in the church of Holie-Crosse of Jerusalem. Which fable taken upon trust of ignorant people, hath crept also into the Records of some careless writers. But the more learned and more diligent writers show how this error came, by reason that there being in that Age but few Philosophers and Mathematicians, they that were given to such kind of studies were accounted Astrologers, and Sorcerers; & people believed it the rather of this man, because being a stranger, he was notwithstanding preferred to this great honour before all others.  

Sergius 4. 〈◊〉 19  17 Again in the year One thousand and nine, Sergius the Fourth and in the year One thousand twenty two, john the Nineteenth were placed in the Sea of Rome; the one taken out of the monastery of S. Anastasius in Rome, the other out of another monastery not certainly known, but of the Order of S. Benedict. Sergius continued in the Chair not full three years, john sat some nine years▪  

Stephenus 9  18. Stephen the Ninth was not only a Religious man before he was chosen Pope, but lived a holy and devout life; for being of noble extraction, & son to Cotelo Duke of Lorraine, he was made Cardinal by Leo the Ninth, and sent Legate to Constantinople to reconcile the Grecians to the Latin Church, which also he performed. Returning to Rome, and finding Pope Leo dead, weary of the world, he retired himself to the Monastery of Mount-Cassino, where he applied himself so seriously to this new warfare of Christ (so great a man as he was) that he won the good opinion of all, and within less than two years was chosen Abbot of that place. And coming to Pope Victor the Second to have his Election confirmed by him as the manner than was, not only obtained what he came for, but was again created Cardinal by him; & Victor dying not long after, he was by the consent of all placed in his Chair in the year One thousand fifty seven; 
〈…〉 men for fifty years together.  but continued not therein scarce eight months, before death seized him, to the great grief of all that knew him. And not long after, to wit, in the year One thousand seventy three, the administration of the Church of God fell again into the hands of Religious men, & continued among thē●●●tie years together, to the great benefit & contentment of all Christians.  

Gregoriu● ●.  19 The first of them was Gregory the Seaventh, a Florentine borne; but yet he followed Gregory the sixth (whom the Emperor Hen●ie had thrust out of the Popedom) into France▪ & Gregory dying, he shut himself into the Monastery of 〈…〉 few years he was made Abbot of that Monastery. Soon after, he was in so great favour with Leo the Ninth, Victor the Second, and Sthephan the Ninth, that they would do nothing without his advice; & much more was he in grace with Alexander the Second, whom he succeeded; and governed the sea so like himself, that diverse Authors affirm, that since the Apostles times there hath not been a Pope, that hath taken more pains than he for the Church of God, or gone through more trouble, or stood more constantly for the liberties thereof. He excommunicated Henr●● the Fourth twice as a deadly enemy of the Church, & freed all his subjects from their Allegiance, nothing daunted with his power & the great army, which he brought before the City of Rome. He did the like to Nicephorus, that had invaded the Empire of the East. Hilbertus Archbishop of Ravenna being in faction against him, surprised him, and cast him into prison, upon Christmas-day at night; but in the morning the people, that loved him dear, thronging together, took him out by force. And many other things without number he endured courageously, and decreed with great wisdom, in the twelve years which he governed the Church.  
20. Victor the Third succeeded him, 
Victor ●.  son to the Prince of Beneventum, who in his youth being constrained to marry a wife, fled to the Monastery of Mount-Cassino, before he touched her; where he was created Abbot, & afterward made Cardinal by Gregory the Seaventh, & after his decease was esteemed the fittest to undertake the government of the Church, in which charge he was not only conspicuous for his Religious piety & modesty, but for such courage, as might beseem a General of an army. For he thrust out of Rome the Antipope by force of arms, & levying a great army from all parts of Italy, he sent it into afric, with such happy success by the special help of God, that he had both the victory miraculously at the very first entrance into the land, & the news of it in Italy the very selfsame day, that the armies met, which was yet more strange. Finally holding a Council all Beneventum, he was taken with his last sickness, & caused himself to be carried to Mount-Cassino; that, where first he had received the spirit of Religion, there among the prayers of his brethren he might more securely and holily give-up his last breath, which he did a year and three moreths after he had taken the Pastoral charge upon him, that a man may justly wonder, how he could be able to think of so many things as he did, much more how he could perform them in so short a time.  
21. Viban●● the Second succeeded him, taken out of the Monastery of Cluni in Fráce. He governed the Church somewhat more than eleven years, & showed himself a notable Pope. For gathering three Counsels in Italy, he decreed many useful things, both for the quieting of those turbulent times, and for reformation of manners. Then he went into France, and as he visited many Cities, he ordained many wholesome things; & among the rest in the Council of Clermont, ●e proclaimed the voyage to the Holy land; for which enterprise there were levied three hundred thousand foot, and a hundred thousand horse; by which forces at that time the Holie-land was recovered.  
22. Pa●chalis the Second, 
Paschalis ●.  a Monk of Mount-Cassino, much against his will, and much lamenting his case▪ was in the year One thousand ninety nine, placedia the Chay●e of S. Peter with so general consent of the people and the Clergy and the Cardinals, that he could not possibly withstand 〈◊〉. He governed the Church eighteen years, in which time he passed through many changes of times, and many difficulties, and showed great courage in them. For by his wisdom & dexterity he extinguished the Schism, which had many years most miserably distracted the Church of Christ through the infidelity of some great Princes. He also restored & enlarged the dominions of the Church, which had been invaded by several persons; & having suppressed many other seditious proceedings, & composed many differences of Christian Princes and Commonwealths, he was so beloved of all men, that returning to Rome, he got his last sickness in the press of people, that came to meet him; and died.  

Gelasius 1.  23. Gelasi●s the Second did somewhat repair the loss. He was also breed-up from his infancy in Mount-Cassino, & had been made Cardinal by Vrban the Second; and lived in his Pontifical dignity with great sanctity of life and temperance; a man of great learning and eloquence, as Authors write, which was half a miracle in those days. He was much encumbered through the factious proceedings of some wicked men, and chiefly by the Emperor Henry and most unworthily also beaten by some of his followers; but he took the injury as it beseemed the Vicar of Christ, imitating his meekness, and following the example of jonas, after the second tempest raised by his occasion, he went into France, where he died in the Monastery of Clunie, having held the Chair but one year.  
24. And presently the Cardinals, that were in his company, gave the dignity to Callistus the Second, 
Callistus 2.  who was son to Wilyam duke of Burgundy, and had been a Monk either in the Monastery of Palleri or luns (for Authors do vary in it) and was then Archbishop of Vienne. A wise man, & dexterous in businesses, as it is recorded of him, and in effect he showed it. For he was scarce arrived in Rome, but he surprised 〈◊〉 the Antipope, and cast him into prison; and making peace with the Emperor Henry upon good condition, he appeased the controversies, which had long time wronged the Church. And continuing near upon six years in his Pastoral care, he died in the year One thousand one hundred twenty four, to the great regret of every body, and much longing that he might have lived longer.  
25. One and twenty years after his decease, there followed three Popes one after an other taken out of Religious Orders; 
Eugenius 3.  and first Eugenius the Third a Cistercian Monk, though he were not so much as Cardinal before, but only Abbot of the Monastery of ●●●-fontane, which is yet extant; so great was the opinion which people had of his virtue and wisdom S. Bernard in his Epistle to the Court of Rome doth much admire this their proceeding. 
S. Bernard. Epist. 236.  
God forgive you (saith he) what have you done? You have produced a man that was buried in his grave; a man that was fled from the company and trouble of men, you have thrust him again into care and trouble; he that was crucified to the world, is raised again to the world by you; & he that had chosen to be abject in the house of his God, you have chosen him to be Lord over al. He had powerfully freed himself from the allurements of the flesh, and from the glory of the world, as from the violent hands of the Devil; and yet he could not escape your hands. What reason or counsel was there in this business? so soon as the Pope was dead, presently to rush-in upon a country-fellow; to lay hands upon one that had hid himself; and taking from him his axe, or his hatchet, or his spade, to draw him to Court, to place him in the Chair, to clothe him in purple and silk, to gird him with a sword, to do vengeance in nations, reprehensions in the people, and to tie their kings in fetters, and their nobles in manacles of iron.  
So; was there not among you a wise and practical man, to whom these things might better agree? In very deed it seems a ridiculous thing, that a threadbare fellow should be assumed to govern Princes, to command Bishops, to dispose of Kingdoms and Empires. Shall I say, it is ridiculous, or miraculous? certainly it is one of them.  This was the astonishment which S. Bernard conceived in the business; and agreeth no less to all the rest of whom we have hitherto spoken, or shall hereafter reckon, as raised from Religious Humility to so great Honour; for in all of them there is part of that miracle which S. Bernard mentioned.  
26. But to return to Eugenius, we may guess how virtuous he was, and how much he loved Religion, by that which we find written of him; to wit, that under the splendour of his Pontifical attire, he wore his Monastical weed, that is a woollen garment next him, and his Hood, in which also he always slept, and his bed was of straw only, though the bedstead were guilt, and hung with courtins of purple-silk; by which means he outwardly carried the Majesty which beseemed his place in the eyes of men, and inwardly in the eyes of God he never forsook his Religious Humility. After he had visited France, and among other things, given the Cross to King Lewis for the voyage into the Holy Land, returning to Rome, and being received with great joy, he died in the eighth year of his Popedom, 
Anastasius 4.  when Anastasius the Fourth succeeded, Abbot of the Monastery of S. Rufus in the Diocese of Veliterra; and in one year of his Popedom (for he sat no longer) he gave great signs of virtues, and chiefly of liberality towards the poor, relieving them plentifully in a great dearth, which wasted almost all Europe.  
27. Adrian the Fourth succeeded Anastasius in the year One thousand one hundred fifty four. 
Adrianus 4.  He was an Englishman borne, and as some say Abbot of the Monastery of S. Rufus in France, afterwards made Cardinal by Eugenius the Fourth, and Legate into Swedeland and Norway, great part of which Country he brought to the Faith and worship of Christ. Being put in the Chair and office of S. Peter, for the time that he held it (which was five years and eight months) he maintained the dignity of the Apostolical Sea in many things; and particularly in excommunicating william King of Sicily, and depriving him of his right to the Kingdom, for spoiling some towns belonging to the Patrimony of the Church of Rome.  
28. A good space after him, to wit in the year One thousand two hundred ninety four, 
Celestinus 5.  Celestin the fifth was raised from this dust of Religion, to sit in the Throne of glory. From a child he went into the wilderness, and lived there many years; afterwards he founded a Religious Order, which being spread far and near, himself living a very austere life, and working many miracles, his sanctity grew so famous, that whereas the Cardinals could not for two whole years agree upon the election of a new Pope, they all gave their voices to this man, though he were absent and hidden from the world; and his Consecration was honoured with the concourse of more than two hundred thousand people. Being Pope he slacked not the rigour of his life, nor the humility of his conversation, and within a short time began so to loathe the noise and smoke of Court, and so to long after his wont quiet, that he resolved to shake-of that troublesome burden and care, notwithstanding the people of Naples (whither he had retired himself) and King Charles were much against it; & the people, wheresoever they met him, with loud voice beseeched him, he would not do so. Yet five months were scarce at an end, when he gave over his charge; diverse bewailing the loss of him, others admiring so great humility, and an example thereof never heardof till that day.  

〈◊〉 22.  29. In the number of these Pope's the memory of Benedict the Twelfth is venerable. He was assumed to that charge in the year One thousand three hundred thirty four, from the Cistercian Order, having been Abbot of a monastery in France called Moni-froid. Many notable things are recounted of him, both public and private; and in particular, that he preferred none of his kindred to any Ecclesiastical Office, saying, that the Pope had no kindred. Whereby & for his many other virtues, he was so well beloved of all, that dying after he had sat seven years, his funerals were honoured with many tears, as it is recorded of him.  

C●●m●ns 6.  30. The virtue of his successor Clement the sixth allayed part of the common grief. 
Maison-D●●.  He was a Monka●d Abbot of a monastery called Casa-Dei in the Diocese of 〈◊〉, a man of a great wit, and great learning, & having been made Cardinal by his predecessor Benedict, when they came to choose an other Pope, he easily carried it by the consent of all, and in his Popedom to his other praises he added singular munificence and liberality beseeming a Pope, that is a common Father and Pastor of al. He contracted the years of jubilee from a hundred years to fifty. He held the Chair ten years to the great contentment of the whole world.  
40. Not long after, to wit, in the year One thousand three hundred sixty two, Vrban the fifth Abbot of S. Victor was assumed to the stern of the Church; 
Ve●anus 5.  a man, in the judgement of all men, of singular virtue, great courage, unspotted life, and one that applied himself wholly to the common good. After he had sat eight years, by the special providence of God passing by 〈◊〉, he gave up the ghost in the selfsame Monastery, where he had been bred, in the assembly of many Monks, much comforted in beholding them, and much assisted by their prayers.  

〈…〉 Order 〈◊〉 Dominick.  41. These are all the Popes which have been Monks, unless perhaps some have escaped me at unawares; now we will look into other Religious Families also, wherein it can be no wonder if we find fewer, because the Orders themselves are much later. In S. Dominick his Order we find that three of them have been Popes, unless we will reckon john of Vercels to be the fourth; of whom we read in their Chronicles, that having been Governor of his whole Order twenty years, and gone on foot to all the Monasteries thereof, it being at that time dispersed in a manner through the whole world, in the Conclave which was held betwixt the times of Nicolas the Third, & Martin the Second, in the year One thousand two hundred and fourscore, by consent of the Cardinals he was chosen Pope▪ and being absent, died before he could have news thereof, preserved from many troubles which that weighty Charge would have drawn upon him. Leaving him therefore who was designed to that Charge, but never undertaken it, the first of this Order that was placed in it, was 〈◊〉 the First, which name of his, and that also which he had before of Petrus Tarantasius, 
Innocent ut 3.  is well enough known by the Books which he hath left written. Entering upon this dignity in the year One thousand two hundred seventy six, he presently gave his mind to pacify the discords, which had set all Italy on fire. For whereas the Florentius had been long in arms against those of Pisa, and the Venetians against the Genoveses, he excommunicated all that would not presently lay down their arms; and had doubtless brought this and far greater things to pass, if God had lent him life, which he enjoyed but seven months.  
42. In the year One thousand three hundred and three, 
Benedictus 11.  Benedict the Eleventh was chosen out of the same Order, and lived in his Charge much about the same length of time, to wit, eight months; but supplied the shortness thereof with his famous deeds. For by the verdict of all, he was a man of wonderful wisdom and sanctity; and while he was General of his Order (having long and laudably borne that office) receiving letters in his Monastery of Narbona from Pope Boniface the Eight, wherein the Pope commanded him to admit of a Cardinal's Hat, he almost blotted-out the letters with his tears, and yet could not but obey the commandment. In the time of his Popedom, how many profitable things did he ordain, decree, and establish in a short time, specially being to succeed Bonifacius, who had a turbulent time of it; and to cure the wounds, which Christianity had formerly received? He projected to gain Syria and Palestine out of the hands of the Barbarians; which showeth his zeal and courage. But yet, in my judgement; it was a greater matter, that when his mother, who was yet living, a poor and needy woman, came to Rome to congratulate him, and presented herself before him in costly attire, such as friends had abundantly furnished her with; he taking no notice of her, but as if she had been a stranger, asked, who that Noble-woman was? and being answered, that it was his mother: No certainly (saith he) for I know my mother is very poor, and hath not wherewithal to clothe herself in this manner. At which words she blushing went her ways; and returning not long after in her own apparel, the Pope rose-up unto her, acknowledged her for his mother, and friendly entertained her. Where shall we find a more temperate and mortified man? or what greater testimony can we require of the sanctity of any man, than such humility, which doubtless he learned nowhere but in Religion? So that it is no wonder, if he wrought miracles after his death, as they write of him. 
Pius 5.   
43. The third Pope of this Order was Pius V. for virtue like to Benedict, far beyond him for the businesses which passed through his hands: and the memory of him is yet fresh in men's minds. What can we say worthy of his virtue? Who being created Pope in the year One thousand five hundred threescore and six, in the seven years, which he lived not fully complete, showed again to the world the virtues of the ancient Popes, such a Religious discipline doth teach; as frugality, innocence of life, and wonderful devotion; and such as are proper to great Princes, as munificence, providence, strict rigour of justice, courage in war against Heretics, and against the Turck●; entering league with the Spaniards, and the Venetians, and by that means defeating a great navy which these Infidels had prepared. These were the virtues which got him an opinion of sanctity, not only among Christians, but even among the enemies of God's Church. And these be the three Popes, which hitherto have been assumed to that dignity out of the Order of S. Dominick.  

Pope's that were Franciscans. Nicolaus ●.  44. The Order of S. Francis hath had one more. The first was Nicolas the Fourth in the year One thousand two hundred eighty eight; and lived four years in the Charge, deserving exceeding well of all Christianity by his diligence and care in performing all things belonging to his Pastoral function. And among other things his carriage towards his kindred was memorable; for he was wont to say, that he owed them no more than he owed any good man whatsoever. And being rid of this household-bond, as I may call it, he was the freer to attend to the common good of the Church, and was careful in it, for he appeased many controversies betwixt Christian Princes, and brought them into league one with an other; and recovered also by force some Cities belonging to the Church, which had been unjustly usurped by others. And yet how unwilling he was to be in honour, he showed long before, by that which he did when he was made Cardinal by Gregory the Tenth. For having received news of it by letters in France, he wrote again to the Pope as effectually as he could, beseeching him to excuse him; and in the mean time, till a new command came, he would not alter any thing concerning himself. And it is moreover reported of him, that he was wont to say, he had rather be cook of a Monastery, than Cardinal.  

Alexander 5.  45. Alexander the fifth followed not long after in the year One thousand three hundred and nine, though the honour abided not long in him, to wit, some ten months, yet in so short a time he gave many demonstrations of a devout and noble mind. For he deprived Ladislaus of his Kingdom, a powerful King, and a great enemy to Ecclesiastical liberty. He was so liberal towards the poor, not only during his Popedom, but in all his former life, that it is recorded that he was wont to say in ●east of himself, that he was a rich Bishop, a poor Cardinal, and a beggar when he was Pope.  

Sixtus 5.  46. Sixtus the Fourth was of the same Order, placed in the Chair, in the year One thousand four hundred seventy and one, and sat thirteen years; a man rare for all that belongs to wit, or learning, or prudence in handling of businesses. He showed his zeal, both in the wars which he made for defence of the Dominions of the Church, and in setting-forth a navy against the Turcks.  
47. The fourth that out of the Order of S. Francis hath been exalted to this dignity, 
Sixtu● 5.  is Sixtus V. he that holdeth the stern at the time that we are writing this; of whose life and actions we will say nothing for the present, lest we may seem to flatter him; specially seeing no tongue can so well express that which is in him, as his own lively presence. He was charged with the Pastoral care in the year One thousand five hundred eighty five; and this is the fourth year that he holdeth it.  
48. Besides these, there be two other Popes of two other Orders, to wit, Eugenius the Fourth, 
Eugenius 4  and Paul the Fourth. Eugenius was of the Monastery of S. Gregor●e in Alga in Venice, of that Order which S. Laurence justinian living at the selfsame time, and famous for all kind of virtue, did much illustrate. He lived in the Pastoral charge near upon sixteen years, having been promoted thereunto in the year One thousand four hundred thirty one. Of whom all Writers agree, that he was diligent in the wars he waged for the Church, grave and wise in peace, liberal towards people of learning, patient in occasions of wrong done him, and a special Patron of Religious people, granting them many privileges and franchises, and also great revenues. But his masterpiece was the breaking of the neck of the Council of Basle, which began to make head against the Pope's authority; but partly by courage, partly by his singular wisdom & prudence, he disappointed their designs, & called an other Council first at Ferrara, and afterwards translated it to Florence, whither john Paleologus Emperor of Greece came, and acknowledged the Pope of Rome to be Head of the Church. 
Paulus 4.  Paul the Fourth was not only a Religious man, but Founder of a Religious Order of Regular Priests. For first giving over his Bishopric of Theate, he betook himself to a private and solitary life; afterwards others, that had the like purposes and resolution, joining with him, he began a new course of Religious discipline, and professed it publicly in a great assembly in S. Peter's Church in Rome, together with them of his Company, in presence of the Clergy of that Church, at the Tomb of the Apostles, making the three Vows which are common to all Religious people, in the year One thousand five hundred twenty eight, upon the day of the Exaltation of the Cross; and from thence we account the beginning of this Order, which since hath been very much increased, and doth daily spread itself more and more to the great benefit of the Religious themselves, and all others. Paul himself, who was then called john Peter Carasa, was not long after made Cardinal by Pope Paul the Third, and created Pope in the year One thousand five hundred fifty five; and sat four years.  
49. These are the Popes, which we find upon record taken out of Religious Orders; whose promotion doubtless is a great honour to that course of life, not only by reason of the greatness of that dignity, as I said before, but much more for the unspeakable benefit, which the learning, and sanctities, and wisdom of so many rare men hath brought to the Church of God in all Ages, and in all kind of businesses, as we see it hath. Wherefore though there were nothing else in Religion, this alone were sufficient to conclude, that a Religious course of life hath deserved very much of all Christians and Christendom.   

Of Prelates that have been taken out of Religious Orders. CHAP. XXIX.  
TO the glory, which hath accrued to Religion by the many Popes, so often and with such benefit of the Church, taken out of Religious Orders, we may add another degree of splendour not far inferior to the former, arising from the like choice of other Prelates out of the same Religious discipline, to no small profit of Christianity in all Ages. We have set down the number, and the names, and the order of the succession of the Popes that have been Religious, but it is impossible to do the like in rehearsing other Prelates, because the number of them is without number; neither do we find all their names upon record; and though they had been all registered, it were not worth the labour to reckon them up severally.  

Trith. de vir. 〈◊〉. c. 21.  2. For first, if we speak of Cardinals, Trithemius a careful and diligent Writer, doth show, that of Benedictius only there had been till his time (which was about a hundred years since) fourscore Cardinals, 
Cardinals Benedictius 80. Dominicans, to Franciscans, 43.  whose names were extant, besides many others that were not known. And I find that the Dominicans have had thirty, and the Franciscans three and forty of their Order, of other Orders there have not been so many, yet most of them have had some. And whereas these men were chosen to this dignity, not in consideration of the nobleness of their blood, nor for their ambitious pretences, but by reason of their long tried and approved learning, virtue, and piety; it is no wonder, that we may truly say, they did not so much receive, as they did add honour to the honour, to which they were assumed. For to omit many others, what a man was Cardinal Torq e●●d●, and Ca●e●an, and S. Bonaventure ancienter than them both? and diverse beside, whom we shall not need to speak of; themselves having got so great renown as the world knows, both by their learned pens and noble actions.  

Bishops.  3. Much less shall we need to speak of Arch-Bishops, and Bishops; it is so evident, that there have been in a manner infinite preferred to these sacred degrees of Dignity out of all ancient and modern Orders. S. Antonine, 
S. Ant●n p. 3. in. ●3. 〈…〉.  a known grave Author, reckoned a hundred twenty five of S. Dominicks Order, till his days; adding that he nameth not all, but rather few. And lest a body might think, that it was the devour disposition of those times, which cast these dignities upon them, we can reckon in these last threescore and ten years, whereof the memory is yet fresh, above a hundred and fourscore Franciscans only that have been Bishops, which a man may justly wonder at. What shall I say of the Benedictins? 
Tri●● l. 4. c. 1●.  of whom alone Trithemius above mentioned hath collected to the number of above five thousand threescore and ten: 
 which no man hath cause to find strange, considering that anciently the name of a Monk was so venerable, that Bishops were almost every where chosen only out of Monasteries. 
Sulpi●●us.  In so much that Sulpi●●us relating of many Bishops, which had been elected out of the Covent, which S. Martin founded, he concludeth thus: For what City or Church was there, which desired not a Bishop of S. Martin's Monastery?  
4. Throughout all Greece it was so general a custom, that to this very day, notwithstanding the Schism in which they live, they consecreate no Patriarch or Bishop that is not a Monk. In other Countries it was also very frequent, so long as the Dignities of the Church were not so ambitiously pretended, but cast upon those, that were far from desiring, and farther from willingly thrusting themselves upon them, upon those, I say, that did rather indeed resist their promotion, and decline it as a heavy burden. Who can express, how beneficial the light of these men, placed upon a candlestick, was not only to the people whom they had in charge, but to other both people & Pastors, that learned to govern their flock by their form of government and example? For where is it possible for men to learn the Art of Arts (as S. Gregory styleth the business of governing of souls) more exactly then in Religion? 
S Greg. 1. p. ●ast. c. 1.  For that which is now grown into a common Proverb, is most true, that No man can profitably be over another, that is not willingly under; and hath not learned how to be so. 
Religious men more fit to govern then any others Why?  And doubtless the hardness of the work requiring great forces, no place is more apt to breed them, or by daily practice and exercise to increase them, than Religion.  
5. Innocentius the Fourth understood this point very well; and accordingly it is recorded of him, that he chose so often and so many Bishops out of Religious Orders, and chiefly from among the Dominicans, that every body did wonder at him; which though it were a great credit to the Order, yet most of the Religious took it very heavily for diverse reasons, and particularly because they found themselves bereaved of their principal and gravest Fathers. And thereupon their General john Teuto laying open his own and his whole Orders aggrievance to the Pope in this behalf, and earnestly beseeching him that he would from thenceforward leave the Religious of that Order in the humility, which they had professed; the Pope made him answer in the words of our Saviour: 
Matth ●● & 23.  that the candle is not to be hidden, but to be set in the midst, that it may give light to the whole house; and that the Master condemned the Servant that had hid his talon.  
6. Moreover it is of no small moment that these kind of people come not by stealth into the sheepcote, 
Io. 10.  b●● enter by the door; that is, they hunt not alter these dignities upon ambitious desire of honour or wealth, but being lawfully called, they obey the voice and commandment of God. So that being chosen in this manner, and bringing with them the virtue, which is necessary for the performance of their charge, 
Many notable Bishops that were Monks.  they must needs be both fit instruments for great matters, and bring forth most plentiful fruit for the glory of God by their industry. Witness S. Basil, and his equal in time and bosom-friend S. Gregory Nazianzen. Both their achievements are well known to the world; S. Basil's against the heretical Emperor Valens; S. gregory's against the Arians, the Macedonians, the followers of Apollinaris, and against julian the Apostate; 
S Basil. S. 〈…〉  and once he ran hazard of his life, because the seditious people began to throw stones at him, while he constantly stood for God's cause.  
7. S. john Chrysostome was not inferior unto them in virtue and constancy, both against Gainas an Arian Prince, and against the Empress Eudoxia, not sticking publicly in a Sermon, which he made, to call her an other Herodias. In a later Age S. Fulgentius was not behind in courage; 
S Fulg●nt●us.  for himself alone withstood the storm, which wicked King Trasimond had raised against the Catholics; encouraging the Faithful, and danting his adversaties very much by his great learning, and sanctity, and by the admirable eloquence of his tongue, so far that he was banished into Sardinia; yet parting with the great grief of all, he prophesied that he should shortly return; and so it happened. For Trasimond dying not long after, his successor Hilderick restored the Church to the former peace.  

S. Anselm.  8. And to come yet lower, S. Anselm Archbishop of Canterbury came out of the same school of Religion; and often showed, how much he had profited therein; but particularly in his opposition against King Henry of England, who dividing himself from Pope Vrban, stood in Schism against him, and commanded that no Appeal should be made to Rome in all his Kingdom. S. Anselm gathered a National Council to deliberate upon this business; and whereas all the Bishops, and Abbots, and Peers of the Realm held of for fear of the King, he alone with two others only, whom he had won to himself by his authority, stood for the Pope, and voluntarily went into banishment, rather than he would yield to unjustice.  

Culi●●mus ●itur●●●n.  9 william a Monk of the Cistercian Order may be ranked with these great men, whom nothing could compel to undertake the Bishopric of Burges but the command of his Abbot, and of the Pope's Legate, both of them by sh●rp letters willing him not to withdraw himself from that which was the will of God. In that dignity he never put-of his Religious weed, he never eat flesh, nor remitted any thing of his former observances; but to his private virtues he added those, which are proper to them that have care of souls, never c●asing to feed his flock by public Sermons, and private conversation, and many profitable decrees and laws: he maintained continually whole troops of poor people at his own charges; he courageously withstood the King of France trenching upon the Ecclesiastical liberties, and stopped the fu●●e of the Heretics that raged in Guienne, sending diverse of his Cistercian Monks to preach among them; and when that would not do, gathering an army by consent of the Pope, and sowing a Cross upon his garment, made himself in a manner commander of it; and though he died before the army marched, yet there is no doubt, but he assisted much more from heaven towards the victory, which not long after the Catholic party won against their enemies. And thus have these Religious men and Saints behaved themselves in opposition against the enemies of God. What have they done in peace, and calmer times, as in a field more suitable for Religious people to travel in, their endeavours ever bending rather to peace and quiet? And accordingly we find that in the quiet times of Christendom, the vigilancy of such Pastors hath been the more remarkable, attending to feed their flock by example, word, and work, so much the more gloriously and with greater effect, by how much more their famous endeavours were ever coupled with admirable contempt of huma●● thin●●; which virtue doth make them more pliant to the service of God, 〈◊〉 others more ready to give credit unto them.  
10. Boniface about the year One thousand one hundred and fifty, 
S Boniface.  borne of the blood Royal, and near kinsman to the Emperor Otho the Third, and so highly in his favour, as the Emperor was wont to call him his Soul, entered into the Order of S. Romualdus, and having done penance a long time in it, he was moved by instinct of God to go and preach the Gospel to the Russians; which the Pope agreed unto, and moreover made him Archbishop of that Country; notwithstanding which dignity, he altered nothing from his former rigour of Abstinence and hard clothing; but riding on horseback barefoot, the cold being extreme violent, when he lighted, his foot was frozen to the stirrup, so that he could not pull it out, but that he had some warm water brought him to bathe it in. Which poor fashion of living broughtforth wonderful fruit in short time. For coming to that Barbarous nation of the Russians, & beginning to preach the Faith of Christ to the King, at first the King made account that he came to tell them some strange things, whereby to get himself some relief; but finding that he constantly refused the great gifts with which he had caused him to be presented, and moreover seeing him pass through the fire without any hurt, he not only embraced the Gospel together with his whole Kingdom, but making his son his heir, he resolved himself to become disciple to S. Boniface; and had effected it, had not S. Boniface within a short time after been most barbarously slain by the King's brother; which happened well for him, and according to an ancient desire which he had of suffering Martyrdom for Christ Which kind of examples are frequent in older times; and yet of later years also there never have wanted in the house of God the like burning and shining lights, as Andrew Bishop of Fi●sol●, 
Andrea●●●sulanus:  about the year of Christ One thousand three hundred and sixteen; who being a Carmel●● was put into that Episcopal dignity much against his will, a● he evidently showed; because presently upon the first notice that he heard that such a thing was in handling, he hid himself in a Monastery of the Car●●●s●●s, till in an assembly of the Canons, that had chosen him, he was by God's permission discovered by the speech of an infant; and at the selfsame instant a child in a white garment appeared to him also, bidding him not resist any longer the will of God, which was the occasion of his making Bishop; and telling him, there was an Angel appointed him for his Guardian, to direct him in the performance of God's pleasure● He being therefore so evidently chosen, not by men, but by God, we may easily imagine, how he carried himself in his Pastoral function. Among other things it is recorded of him, that he was so loving and liberal towards the poor, that he had all their names written down in a paper, & could not behold them without tears. His wisdom was such, as besides the Decrees, which he made in his own Diocese, he appeased with great dexterity a domestical dissension which was risen in Bologna, being sent thither to that purpose by Vrban the fifth, reconciling both parties, and preventing infinite danger, which was coming upon that city. Finally much more is recorded of this man's virtue and sanctity, whereof we have testimony enough in the miracles, which he wrought, and in that he is Canonised for a Saint.  
11. What shall we say of Laurentius justinianus; 
Laurentius justinianus.  who having lead a Religious life for thirty years together, & at last being charged by Eugenius the Fourth with a Pastoral function, used all means and all entreaty, and made use of all his friends to decline it; and when he could do no more, he admitted of it, and handled it so, that to all men's thinking nothing could be added to his wisdom in governing, his zeal of God's honour, his fortitude in withstanding great men, and his care of the poor, towards whom he was rather accounted profuse. Insomuch that they write of him that both the people of his Diocese, and strangers from foreign places, had recourse unto him as to an Angel sent from heaven; and that as often as he went abroad, people thronged after him to behold him.  

S. Antonine.  12. S. Antonine was his equal in time and virtue, compelled to take upon him the Chair of Florence by the same Eugenius, and showed no less piety, and skill in governing, than he hath showed learning and erudition in his written Books. It is written of him, that he much reform the Clergy of that Church, and visited all his Diocese himself in person; and in time of the sickness, like a good shepherd, did not refuse to go to the infected as they lay raging in their disease, to comfort and refresh them; leading about with him a beast loaden with physic, to minister unto them; finally that he was so profuse towards the poor, that having but three loaves of bread in his house, he gave them to the poor, though not without full gains and recompense; for the selfsame been, that was empty before, was presently found full of bread, and that very white. We shall not need to say any thing of his wisdom; because, when he was but yet a private man, he was as it were an Oracle in all doubtful questions, at home and abroad; insomuch that even than he was commonly known by the name of Antonine the Counsellor. 
Antonius C●●●●orum.  Great was also the fervour and constancy, wherewith he more than once defended the liberties of the Church against those that were in highest authority. In which business he once answered one that threatened him grievously, that he did not fear him, because he had still a corner, whereunto he should no: unwillingly retire himself; and withal showed him the key of his Celle, which he kept of his Monastery; giving to understand beside, from whence he had received so much courage.  
13. Many like examples we might lay together not only out of Italy, from whence the former are taken, but from people beyond the Seas, and beyond the A●●●s, among whom Religion did anciently wonderfully flourish; but because our intent is not here to write a History of these things, we will content ourselves with one S. Dunstan, 
S. Dunstan.  who, about the year One thousand & twenty, being Abbot of Glastenburie, was made Archbishop of Canterbury; in which dignity it is incredible how nobly, and how beneficially to his flock he carried himself. We find in particular, that he was wont to rebuke the two Kings, ●●●elstan and Edward his successor, with such freedom and confidence, that he was twice banished for that cause, and yet called back again, and used by the selfsame Kings in public businesses of great weight; such was the opinion which they had of his wisdom. He was rare also for his gift and fervour in preaching the Word of God; and one Ascension day, as he was at ●●s prayers, preparing for a Sermon, an infinite number of Angels clad in white presented themselves unto him, and told him, that they came to carry him to heaven, if notwithstanding he were ready. He answered them, that for his part. he was ready, but yet it would grieve him, if upon so high a Day the people would be frustrated of the food of the Word of God. And the Angels taking his excuse, appointed the next day to come for him; wherein he departed with excessive joy.  
14. In these our days we have had occasion to behold the like virtue in diverse Prelates, and particularly in Martin Sarmiento a Franciscan-Friar; 
Martin Sarmiento.  who having long laboured with abundant fruit, in the Province of Mexico in the West-Indies, was at last presented with the Bishopric of that place; but stood constant in the refusal of it, till commanded by his Superior in virtue of holy Obedience he accepted it. And having undertaken it, he altered not his humble and austere manner of life; but wore the Habit he did before, and traveled about all his Diocese always on foot, with one of his Friars for his Companion; and finally died in the performance of his function, having spent three whole days one after an other in ministering the Sacrament of Confirmation.  
15. Which examples, in my opinion, do make it much clearer than any reason or proof by argument can do, that Religious Orders have in all times been, as it were, a Seminary or Nursery of Prelates; and of Prelates that have been exceeding beneficial both to their own charge by their worthy labours, and to others by the●● example of life.   

Of the fruit, which Religious people have broughtforth in the Church of God. CHAP. XXX.  
WHEN the wisdom of God had begun to lay the grounds of the Order of the Gray-friars in S. Francis and his eleven first Companions, 
●●●●uent. in ●●ta S. Francis.  and this new offspring was upon the point of being brought forth, it was represented in a Vision to Pope Innocent after this manner. He conceived that he saw the Church of S. john Lateran (where at that time the Pope had his Palace) gaping at the foundation, 
Reli●●●●● pe●●le uphold the Church.  and ready to fall; and that a poor beggarly fellow came running towards it and held it up with his shoulders. When not long after S. Francis with his little Company presented himself before him, demanding approbation of his Rule; the Pope beholding him attentively, and weighing his Rule with good advice, made no question but that he was the poor man, that was showed him in the Vision above mentioned; and the event proved it true. For not only that Age, wherein this Order sprung up, was wonderfully enlightened and holpen by it, but it hath ever strengthened and upheld the Church of God these 376. years, which it hath continued since the first beginning of it.  
2. Which commendation, as undoubtedly it belongeth not falsely and idly but by the true and solid testimony of that heavenly Vision to the Order of S. Francis; so, in my opinion, it may as truly be given to the Order of S. Dominick, which hath laboured in the same cause with no less industry; and in like manner to all other Orders, which our Lord from time to time hath sent fresh workmen at diverse hours into his vineyard. And if it may be said of every one of them severally, 
The prayers of Religious people very beneficial.  that they have been so beneficial for the defence, and cultivating, and maintaining of the dignity of the Church; how much more truly may we say it of all of them together? So that we must needs conclude, that the profit and fruit, which Religious Orders have wrought in the world since they were founded, is unspeakable. For setting all other things aside, their prayers only & hidden deserts in the sight of God, certainly are very powerful to reconcile him to mankind. Upon which ground S. Bernard saith, 
S Bernard serm par. 93.  that they are ordained to pray for the body of the Church, for the living and for the dead; and S. Gregory Nazianzen, 
S. Gregory Nazian or. 〈…〉. de Eu● c. 8.  that their tears are the deluge of sin; the world's satisfaction, and purging; and Eusebius, as being consecrated to God in 〈◊〉 of all mankind. ●ho therefore can imagine, from how many mischiefs, and what disasters, the world hath been freed by their intercession, what benefits their prayers have obtained? how often our Lord hath been appeased not only at their humble suit, but at the very sight of their good deeds? But to say no more of the account which God makes of them, and of that which is only known to him; let us go forward in the consideration wh●ch we have proposed concerning all of them, and weigh the fruit which in all Ages they have broughtforth two several ways; first by example, than also by their labour and industry.  
3. As for matter of Example, it cannot be denied, but that for the most part, all Euan●elical virtues had been hidden in darkness but for the light which Religion hath given them; 
The benefit of Example.  first practising them, and by their very practice presenting them to the view of all men, as it were, in a public Theatre to be beheld of al. So that their modesty, humility, piety, & devotion, hath been always a leading direction for all kind of people to follow; and we may justly conceive, that this was the reason why they are termed by S. john Chrysostome, 
S. john Chrysostome hom. 5●. ad p●p.  the lights of the world. For by them the world hath learned, how God is to be served, with what reverence, with what fear he is to be adored in the Churches and in the Sacraments, with what diligence & attention we ought to pray unto him, how patient we ought to be in adversity, how charitable towards our neighbour, finally there is no Christian virtue, whereof they have not left manifold examples in the world.  
4. Yea though all this were not, their very forsaking of all things to embrace the Cross of Christ, whereas many of them were nobly and richly borne, and in the prime of their days, must needs be of great force to induce men to contemn the riches and honours of the world; and so we find it hath been; and though few have the strength and courage of mind utterly to abandon these things, yet by that which they see these men do before their eyes, they learn to love these earthly things less, or at least will understand that they deserve not to be loved. What shall we say more? their very aspect is a secret exhortation to virtue, & reprehension of vice; which many daily experience to be true, & S. Chrysostome doth plainly testify, exhorting the people in two several Sermons, often to visit Religious houses for this very reason, 
S. john Chrysostome 〈…〉.  because they cannot but car●i● some benefit home from them. For there, saith he, all things are void of temptation, free from all disquiet & disturbance; they are most quiet havens, and the dwellers of them are like so many fires, shining from high places, and giving light to them that come near them; and having taken up their rest in the haven, they invite others to the same tranquillity, and suffer not those, that have their eyes upon them, to run hazard of shipwreck, or to be in darkness, if they behold them. Go therefore to these men, converse with them; go, I say, cast yourselves at their holy feet, for it is far more honourable to kiss their feet then the head of other men. For, I pray you, if some apprehend the feet of certain Images, only because they represent the King; shalt not thou be in safety if thou embracest him that hath Christ within him? Their feet therefore are holy, though otherwise they seem abject and contemptible. Thus speaketh S. john Chrysostome.  
5. Deservedly therefore may we apply to Religious people, that which was spoken to the honour of the Apostles, and is common to them that lead an Apostolical life: 
Matth. ●.  You are the light of the world, you are the salt of the earth; the one belonging to example of life, of which we have spoken; the other belonging to their industry, of which we are now to speak; which is far greater also than example itself, to wit, not only to preserve the behaviour of men from corruption (as it were) by casting salt upon them, but which is beyond the nature of salt, 
Religious people do greatly help towards the salvation of others.  to restore them when they have been corrupted; which Religious people perform, when they reclaim those that are gone astray, raise those that are fallen, instruct the ignorant, assist with their counsel, learning, and all manner of industry, them that are in temptation and difficulties. We shall not need to prove these things by authority of the holy Fathers, or by that which others have le●t recorded; for we see it daily before our eyes, and find in our daily practice, that it is so. It is apparent to every body, how much Religiours' Orders do further the salvation of man kind by hearing Confessions, by public● Sermons, by private reprehension of vice, by taking away (as much as lieth in them) the occasions of sin, by appeasing dissension and discord, finally relieving all sorts of people, instructing and teaching them how to behave themselves against the Devil, against their own infirmities, against the allurements of the world; all which businesses Religious people have in a manner so engrossed, that few besides them, stir in them; and even those few are oftimes stirred-up by their example; and by a holy emulation of them.  
6. And though these things be in themselves great, yet because they are daily, they are not esteemed; and people perhaps think but slightly of them, as the fashion is. 
Religious men oppose themselves against hereticks●  The war which we have with the enemies of God's Church, and with Heretics, is of more reckoning; and Religious men are they, that bear the greatest part of that burden also, opposing themselves as a counterscarpe and bulwark against the fury of them, in their Disputations, and Sermons, and written Books; in private and public meetings. Finally that which is most glorious and of greatest weight, is the good which they have done, not in particular men, but in whole Provinces and Kingdoms, bringing them under the yoke and obedience of the Faith of CHRIST. 
And convert Nations.  How often have they spread the light of the Gospel, where it was never seen before, and restored it where it hath been obscured? How many times hath Faith and Religion gone to decay in many places, and they have for it up again▪ Certainly their zeal in this kind hath been so eminent, that whosoever shall give himself to read Histories, and observe the manner how th● Faith of Christ hath been brought into every Country since the Apostles, & those Apostolical times, will scarce find a man named in the business that hath not been Religious. It will be too tedious to rehearse them all; yet some we will touch upon, 
S. R●migius.  for example sake.  
7. First therefore we find that S. Remigius, he that about the year Five hundred and thirty converted all France from Idolatry to the Faith of Christ, was from his childhood a Monk, and afterwards Archbishop of Rh●mes.  

Martin.  8. About the same time, to wit, in the year Five hundred and forty, Martin a Monk reduced the Swedens' from the A●ian heresy. It is a known thing, 
S. Augustin of England.  how England by S. Augustin's instruction (whom S Gregory sent thither with four other Monks) was converted to God together with King Ethelbert, in the year Six hundred and three. 
Lambert.  And in Six hundred twenty two, Lambert a Monk of Liege brought the country of Taxandria in the Lower Germany to the Faith of Christ; and at the same time Kilian a Scottish Monk wrought the like in Franconia, and there died a Martyr. Wilfride also a Monk of the monastery of H●rpue in England, 
S. Wilfride.  and afterwards Bishop of York, about the year Six hundred fourscore and three, as he was sailing towards Rome, was by tempest cast upon the coast of Holland and Frizland; and not to pass the winter without fruit, he began to preach the Gospel, which till then had not been heard of in those countries. And returning home, and not permitted by wicked King Eg●rid to remain in his charge, he went to the South saxons, that were yet Infidels, and showed them the light of Faith; and withal converted the whole Island of W●ght.  
9 And that which Wilfride began in Frizland, Willebrord continued, a Monk of the monastery of Rippon in England, and was afterward created Bishop of Maes●icht. At the same time Swithbert bred-up in the famous Monastery of Landis●erne, with eleven others (in memory of the number of the Apostles) went to the Saxons, and is recorded to have instructed an innumerable company of them in the Faith of Christ; and was afterwards made Bishop of Werda, and did not cease notwithstanding to take great pains.  
10. Bonifacius also is renowned in this kind, and to this day deservedly worshipped as the Apostle of Germany. 
S. 〈◊〉.  He was borne in Scotland, and led a a holy life a long time in a Monastery, to which his parents had offered him from the time he was five years old; and being sent by Pope Gregory the Second into Germany, he converted to the Faith of Christ Thuringia, F●●sia, and Hesse, about the year One thousand two hundred and sixteen; and that he might the better govern those whom he had instructed, he was honoured with the Archbishopric of Mentz, though he received yet more honour by the crown of Martyrdom.  

〈◊〉 & Lu●ger.  11. Willehard and Ludger, out of the monastery of S. Willebrord in France, went into Franconia a province of Germany, about the year Eight hundred, and begat many children there to Christ, and themselves endured a great deal of hardness for his sake.  

Ausgarius.  12. Not long, to wit, some ten years after, Ausgarius with three companions out of the Monastery of Corby in the Walloons Country, passed through diverse Provinces preaching the Gospel, in Denmark, Sw●dland, Scotland, and Greeneland, with incredible fruit. And ●ut 〈◊〉 the same Monastery came Stephen, who succeeded Ausgarius in the harvest of Swedland, and passed afterwards into the province of Helinghen, and brought it wholly out of error into the way of truth; and lastly slain by some wicked people there, went to enjoy the crown of Martyrdom.  
13. To whom we may add Albus Abbot of Floriac, a Monastery which was built by S. Ma●●●s in the possessions of one Florus Count, 
Allus.  as we find recorded; for he took much pains in dilating the Christian Faith in that part of France which is called G●●cou●●; a man famous for his Eloquence, and Sancti●ie, and the glory of Martyrdom. He lived about the year Nine hundred and seventy.  
14. What shall we say of Adalber●us? 
Adalber●us.  who when he was Archbishop of of Prague, coming to Rome, lived a long time a Religious life in the Monastery of Mount-Cassino, about the year Nine hundred and fourscore; and then together with his brother Gaudentius a Monk also of S. Alexus in Rome, went into Hungary to preach the Faith of Christ; where he met with King Geisa, that had notice of his coming before from God; and being entertained honourably by him, he converted all that fierce and barbarous people to the obedience of of our Saviour; and from thence going higher into Sarmatia, preached the Gospel to the Russians, Latuanians, Moscovites, Prussians, and chiefly to the Polacks, and their King Boleslaus. Finally in Prussia being by the wicked misbelievers bound to a stake, and stuck with seven darts, while he stood gasping, he gave God thanks, that he had at last vouchsafed him that favour to dye for his sake, which had long desired.  
15. Bruno also son to Lotarius Duke of Saxony, 
Bruno.  after he had lead a Monastical life in the Monastery of S. Alexius in Rome, was sent by john the Nineteenth to the Russians about the year One thousand twenty five, and reduced many of that Country to the way of Salvation; and to the end he might not want his reward for his service in that cause, he was crowned with Martyrdom. And about the same time Boniface Disciple to S. Romualdus, travelling into the same Country Russia, converted the King & the whole Kingdom, saving the King's brother, by whom being barbarously slain, he watered with his blood the Vinyard which he had planted.  
16. In the year One thousand and fifty, Humbert, 
Humbert●●.  a Benedictin Monk, being sent Legate from the Pope to Constantinople, to convince the Grecians of their Schismatical errors, appointing a day of meeting with N●●etas, confounded him in Disputation before the Emperor Constantin; and forced him to burn the Book, which he had written.  
17. Otho in like manner a Monk of the Monastery of Waburg a city in Germany, 
Otho.  being, in the year One thousand one hundred twenty five, sent by Callistus the Second into Pomerania, converted Prince Warcislaus and his followers; and travelling all the coast of Denmark, & the confines of Poland, wrought great conversions, and visited also many Cities of Saxony with great fruit.  
18. Not unlike to him was Vicelinu●, 
Vicelinu●.  who not long after going out of France to the Wandals with four Companions, took incredible pains for thirty years together in all that Country, instructing innumerable people in the Law of Christ, and founded many famous Monasteries there.  
19 And of Conversions of the like nature wrought by Monks, we might add much more; but for brevity sake, we will descend to the Religious Orders, which are of later standing; for since they have appeared in the Church of God, businesses of this nature have for the most part passed through their hands.  
20. The Dominicans have had many occasions of doing God great service in this kind; and particularly about the year One thousand two hundred forty seven, we find that diverse of them were sent by Innocentius the Fourth to the Tartarians, 
Dominicans.  the chief among them being Ascelinus, a holy man; though for that time there came no other good of it, but that which themselves reaped by the many injuries and incommodities which they suffered in that measure, that it is a wonder, that either their bodies, or their hearts were able to endure it. Wherefore not many years after, they went in greater number and with better success to the conversion of Nations; and traveled many countries, where the light of the Gospel had never been seen, with such abundant fruit that it was not possible, as they write, to number the souls converted by them; specially in the Country of Cuma; from which parts Benedict (who was Superior of the rest of the brethren) writing to their General, relateth that many thousands not only of the common soit, but of the Nobility of the Country had received the Sacrament of Baptism, which may suffice for a taste of the fruit which that Order hath and doth daily bring-forth in the Church of God; there being whole Books extant full of Relations concerning it.  
21. Of the Franciscans, besides other times, in the year One thousand two hundred and seventy, one Hieronymus Esculus was sent to Constantinople, to treat a reconciliation of the Greek Church; he that afterwards was chosen Pope, and called Nicolas the Fourth. 
Franciscans.  And he had so good success in the business he went for, that he persuaded the Emperor and the Country to submit themselves; & (which was a joyful sight) brought forty Peers of the Country to kiss the Pope's foot, 
The Greek Church 〈◊〉  and to the Council, which was then assembled at Lions.  
22. The Religious of the same Order have also more than once passed to the Tartarians, first in the year One thousand two hundred forty five, sent by Innocent the Fourth, at which time many being converted to the Gospel, not long after there went more of them into the Vinyard, 
Tartarians.  and erected there many Monasteries; and Christianity did much prosper among them.  
23. In the year One thousand three hundred forty one, two again of the same Order were sent Legates from Benedict the Tenth, with others of their Brethren with them, who obtaining leave of the Emperor of the Country to preach the Faith of Christ, built again many Churches and Monasteries, to the great enlargement of the Service of God, and conversion of many souls.  
24. Moreover no small number of them passed into Armenia in the year One thousand three hundred thirty two. 
Armenia.  The chief man among them was Gonsales Sa●rata, a man very learned, and one that hath much benefitted that Country both by his servant preaching & by translating many of our books into their language. 
 And about the same time we find that one Paschal●● traveled in the coversion of the Medes, and one Gentilis among the Persians. The former writeth in an epistle, which is yet extant, that the people of the Country tempted him at first with diverse presents, and offered him many wives, which and many other allurements he constantly refusing, they fell to injuries, and reproaches, they twice stoned him, and burned his face, and the soles of his feet, with fire; and yet he was so far from being daunted therewith, that he never so much as altered his Habit for it, 
Babylon.  nor intermitted his preaching.  
25. And of Gentilis there is this notable thing recorded, that living in Babylon, and finding himself dull in learning the Arabic language, he resolved to return into Italy. But as he was upon the way, there met him a young man, that having sifted out the cause of his journey, bade him go back again, because God would give him the gift of that tongue; and from that hour he spoke it as perfectly as if he had been borne in the Country. 
Dalm●tia.   
26. Bosna a city of Dalmatia was also in those days converted from Heresy by the means of Gerard General of that Order, as he had occasion by chance to travel that way; and afterwards sending diverse others thither, he won also the country there about, it being infected with the same Heresy; and brought it within the fouled of Christ.  
27. Odoricus of 〈◊〉 much about the selfsame time, both to shun the honour which every one was forward to give him, and through the burning zeal of Souls, got leave of his Superior to go preach to the Infidels; where ma●in● his excursions into diverse countries towards the East and the South, in seaventeen years, which he spent in that noble work, he is reported himself alone to have baptised and instructed twenty thousand Souls. 
Cat●●●.   
28. 〈◊〉 on the year One thousand three hundred and seventy, 
Hunga●●.  william 〈◊〉 being sent to Caraye to preach the Gospel of Christ, carried threescore of his Friars with him. And in Hungary the King having lately brought diverse ●ioyning Provinces to his obedience, sent eight Franciscan-friars amongst them, whose ●ithi● the compass of fifty days, brought two hundred thousand to believe in Christ. The King seeing the happy success, wrote earnestly to the General of their Order to send him two thousand of his Friars, assuring him they should not want employment. The letter which the General wrote back is yet extant, 
 wherein he devoutly and fervently inviteth his Religious to so withful and glorious an enterprise. And among the rest we must not let pass 〈◊〉 Cap stranus, who about the year One thousand four hundred and fifty brought to the bosom of the Church in one excursion twelve thousand Infidels, and many Schismatiks beside. 
The Society of I●svs.   
29. We might here speak of much more that hath been done to the excessive benefit of the Church both by Other orders, and by this our least Society of JESUS, which in Italic and Spain (where Catholic Religion doth remain incorrupt and flourish) laboureth with that fruit which every one seeth and knoweth; and in France, Germany, the Low-countries, Poland, and in all the Northern parts infected more or less with Heresy, employeth itself incessantly in strengthening Catholics, instructing the ignorant, reducing or convincing Heretics, by preaching, teaching schools, private conversation, and by all manner of wholesome means and ways. At which how much the Devil is grieved, he lately showed (as by certain Relation we have heard) when being urged by Exorcisines in a possessed person, among other things he professed, that he hated no kind of people more than the jesuits.  
30. But not to be too long, we will instance the matter we have in hand, in two only of two several Families, by which it will sufficiently appear, how much the whole Orders may have benefitted the Church of God, seeing one man in an Order hath done so much good. 
S. Bernard.  S. Bernard is one; and the good which he hath wrought in the Church of God, cannot indeed be valued. For in that fearful Schism, which was raised against Pope Innocent the Second, he bestirred himself so diligently that we may truly say, he was the cause and means at last of extinguishing it. For he alone brought all France to the Pope's obedience; the S●nod of Estamps, where all the Bishops of the Realm, the King & all his Peers were purposely assembled to that end, putting all their voices in him. He reconciled King Henry of England also to the Pope, even against the mind and endeavour of all the Bishops of the Country; and afterwards brought in Germany. Then he went to the Council of ●i●a, and was not only present at all their meetings and deliberations in the weightiest affairs of Christendom, but did in a manner govern them, all referring themselves to him. Again, when the Church ●f ●urdean● was miserably torn by factious people, insomuch that is diu●rs place● the lawful Bishops were thrust out of their Seas, he (stirred-up by the Pope's Nantio, 
Carn●● 〈…〉.  Bishop of ●har●e.) quenched all that fire with his eloquence, authority, and miracles. After this, Ro●● being oppressed with public calamities, he was called thither by the often and earnest letters of the Pope and Cardinal, and there confuted Roger King of facilie in open disputation; and by his counsel & wisdom so weakened the party of the Antipope Peter Leo, that being forsaken of all, he made a miserable end. Peter Abaylard was an Heretic so proud of his learning and eloquence, that no man almost could stand against him. S. Bernard first in a private meeting, then publicly in the Council of S●ns put him to shame. Soon after in the Council of Rhem●s, he so palpably convinced ●ilbert Parr●t, a man that was also famous, that he himself publicly condemned his own error. He alone constrained Henry (an other Apostate) to fly▪ one that had infected the Diocese of ●olause with his wickedness, and was ●il labouring to infect it more and more; but at last he was intercepted and del●uered-vp in chains to the Bishop. What shall say of his other journeys to M●●an, to G●●u●, to the King of France, all which he undertaken for affairs of great consequence to the Church, and all of them with prosperous success? And in these iournyes who can number the causes which were brought unto him, or the concourse of people, to and fro, to his lodging, pressing-in one upon another: Neither can it be imagined, with what benefit he preached to the people; what an infinite company he reclaimed from their wicked life; how many were reconciled by his means; how many drawn out of the jaws of the Devil by the fiery flames of Divine love, which he breathed wheresoever he came. But we may give a guess at it, by that which is recorded of him, that besides those that forsaking the vanities of the world, betook themselves to other Religious Orders, he never returned home to Cla●●-vaulx, but attended with a great troup of Novices, whom he had driven by his own persuasions into the nets of our Saviour, and most commonly they were men eminent either for Divinity, or Humanity, or for their birth; among whom we find Henry brother to the King of France, and one Herucus of the blood Royal. And so much of S. Bernard.  
31. The other, whom I purpose to insist upon, is S. Vincent of the Order of S. Dominick; 
S. Vincent.  whose labours have extended so far, that it is a wonder that any one man could go so much ground as he hath traveled, preaching the Gospel of Christ. For first in Spain he went over all the Kingdoms of Valentia, Catalaunia, Arragon, Na●arre; and setting aside Galicia and Portugal, where for certain reasons he came not, he passed through all the rest of the Provinces, and every town of them, and almost every village. Then coming into the kingdom of Ouiedo, Daulphinie, France, Burgundy, Normandy, Prevence, A●uergne, Gasconie, Brittany, Flanders, and all Savoy, he wentup into Italy, & came down again by Lombardie, Piedmon●, & Genua, & all that coast, and sailed to the Lands of the Mediterranean Sea; and being invited into England by King Henry his letters, and an express messenger and a ship to wait upon him, he visited all that Island, and from thence went into Scotland, and Ireland, & rested not only in the head-citties, but passed, as I said before, to every town & little village, following the example of Christ our Saviour. Who therefore but God alo●e can number the souls, which he reclaimed from their vicious courses, & from the gates of hell; how many evil customs he rooted out of whole cities and countries; what light and knowledge of heavenly things he left behind him?  
32. We find recorded that he converted above five and twenty thousand Jews, which Sect, as in those days it reigned much▪ he laboured particularly with great zeal to extirpate; of the Saracens he converted eight thousand; & of Christians debauched, that turned over a new leaf, above a hundred thousand. But it is more easy to reckon-up the Country's and Provinces, than the souls which he brought into the way of Salvation. For they write of him, that wheresoever he set his foot, there followed presently a general repentace of their former offences, a general reformation of manners; dicing, and blaspheming▪ and perjury, and other crimes, yea idle sports and toys, were so laid aside, that people did think no more of any such thing; and their contrition, devotion, and modesty was so great, not only while he was present, but for some time after, that it did seem a new Primitive Church.  
33. Wherefore if Religion had had only these two subjects, that had laboured 〈◊〉 the reformation of the world, and deserved well of the Church, were it not a sufficient commendation and glory unto it But it hath had very many, as S. Francis himself, of whom we read wonderful things in this kind, S. Antony of Milan, S. Bernardine of Sienna, both of them not much, or nothing at all inferior to S. Vincent; and others whom it were long to rehearse.  
34. And though these things do turn much to the glory and renown of Religion, yet nothing is more worthy of admiration and praise, than the conversion of the Newfound World, which is wholly to be attributed to Religious people. They were the first that carried the Gospel into those Country's, they diwlged the Name of Christ there where it wa● unknown and never heardof before, and cease not to this very day to spread it still further and further. 
The Francis●ans the first 〈◊〉 and 〈…〉 the New World.  The first that undertook this charge, were the Franciscan-Friars, who also helped not a little to the findingout of th●se Country's, the names whereof were not so much as known before. For when Christopher Columbus first treated with King Ferdinand of Spain about that Voyage, and had no great audience, in regard that the thing seemed a novelty, and uncertain, it is said that two Franciscan-Friars helped the business much, both animating the King and exhorting him not to omit the occasion, but to try what would come of it. Columbus therefore with certain ships which were granted him, finding out the Kingdom of Mexico, and returning into Spain to bring the joyful tidings of it, presently some Priests of that Order shipped themselves for those parts about the year One thousand four hundred ninety three.  
34. About the same time, to wit, in the year One thousand five hundred, Vasques Gama by order of Emmanuel King of Portugal finding a way into the West-Indies, eight of the same Order of S. Francis eminent for learning and sanctity, were sent to preach the Gospel. And by little and little te Order multiplying in those Country's, they built many houses in a short time, and were divided into thirteen Provinces (as they term them) greatly advancing the Christian cause even to this day.  
35. The Dominicans not long after, to wit, in the year One thousand five hundred and five, 
The Dominicans.  joined themselves in the like business, and have done many famous things in those far Countries; and after them the Augustin-Friars and lesly 〈◊〉 Society of JESUS, at the request of ●ois● King of Portugal w●● brought into the East-Indies by S. Francis X 〈◊〉 in the year One thousand five hundred forty one, 
The 〈◊〉.  and few years after into the West-Indies by order of Philip King of Spain; and hath so taken it to hart, that from that time it hath never ceased not only to instruct those that were Christians before, but to preach the Gospel far and near, and spread it in places where it was not heard of; as in japonie, where though the Country be so large, that it is said to contain about threescore Kingdoms, yet all the Religion and Faith that is in it, hath been wholly and solely planted and watered by the Society; and God hath given such increase that they reckon now therein about two hundred thousand Christians. And lastly also our Society hath made a hole into China, a Kingdom so large, and so rich, that it is almost incredible; which it seems the Devil had, as it were of purpose, kept hitherto shut; but notwithstanding the penalty of death, to which all strangers are liable by their laws, if they come within their bounds, they gotin fearing nothing, and remain there to this day, with such hopeful beginnings, that if it succeeds accordingly, undoubtedly the fruit will be incomparable.  
36. Now let us consider a little, what honour it is in the sight of God, and his Angels for these Religious men, that they only are called to so great a work in all that part of the world. For first the preaching of the Gospel and promulgating the Faith of Christ, where it was never before, is a great and Apostolical work in itself. For our Saviour chose his Apostles, and said unto them: Going unto the Whole World, preach the Gospel to every creature, baptising them, and teaching them to keep all that I have commanded you. As, I say, he gave the conversion of this our World in charge to those his Disciples, so he hath given the char●c of this other World to Religious people. If we compare the greatness and extent of that World with this, they say there is not much difference; but if we look into their fashions and dispositions, we shall find them a great deal more barbarous and blind, worshipping the Sun and Moon, Serpents, and Stones, and the very Oxen in some places, as in the kingdom of Mexico, they make their festival days most fearful by Sacrifices of men; many of them feed most greedily upon man's flesh; a great part of them know not what it is to go clothed, but are always naked, contrary to nature itself. Whereby we may see, that the very light of nature is so obscured and dulled in them, that they are in a manner beasts, under the shape of men. In so great darkness and ignorance, it can not be but that they should be extremely given to all manner of vice, and most enormous crimes; and no man can justly wonder, if, as we read of them, they make no account at all of things that are hideous to be named. Whereby we may conceive, what pains, what labour, and toil was needful to bring such ignorance & barbarousness to the knowledge and fear of God, and to tame them so, as to sloope to the yoke of Christ; and casting of their brutish behaviour, to embrace Christian humility, temperance, and chastity. For the glory thereof (next to the grace of God) fa●leth all upon Religious people, by whom those Savages have been instructed and taught, & bred-up to the civility & devotion, which now they have.  
36. To the labours and pains, 
The labours, troubles, & hazards, in converting of Barbarous nations.  which the business itself requires, we may add the many difficulties, and incommodities, and troubles without number both of body and mind, which are incident and annexed unto it; as the long and difficult voyage by sea; the disposition of the Climate and Country f●r in some places it is extreme cold, as in japonie; in other places extreme hot, as at Ormuz, where they write that the people in the sommer-time lie up to the neck in water to cool themselves; the want of victuals, the country's being barren and uncultivate; and that which is to be had, is not for our diet, and manner of feeding; oftimes they suffer shipwreck upon the rocks and shelves; and▪ which is most glorious, they are often in danger to be slain by the Savages and enemies of Christian Faith; which, if it happen, they are undoubted Martyrs, as killed for the Faith of Christ. And I believe, that diverse Religious men of several Orders have been martyred in those parts; but that which I find recorded, is of the Franciscans, that thirty of them in several places have suffered for Christ several kinds of death; and of our Society in these few years, there have been about threescore and ten crowned with Martyrdom, and some of them very lately.  
37. How acceptable therefore may we justly think our labours are to Christ our Saviour, which being so much benefit to ourselves, are so beneficial withal to others, and so much for the glory of God? God showed it once to one Alonso Ro●as a Franciscan-Fryar, who having spent diverse years in this great work, and returning into Spain, to recollect himself, and prepare himself the better to dye, as often as he set himself to meditate upon any good thing, he conceived he saw our Saviour crucified before him, in a kind of complaining and angry manner, ask him, why he had left him so upon the Cross, and betaken himself to his ease. Which Vision happening to him often, he was so pricked with it, that he resolved to go into the Indies again to his former labours, & bestowed himself there many years very profitably. Not unlike to this was the manner, in which God invited our S. Xaverius to the same work long before he undertook it. For as he was wont to relate of himself, oftimes in his sleep he carried a Black-a-Moore upon his shoulders; and the burden seemed so heavy▪ that it awaked him out of his sleep, much wearied with the very weight of the man. And both came afterwards to pass; ●or by his labour and industry he brought those people to Christ, as it were upon his shoulders; and took so much pains in that harvest, that it is wonderful how the forces of his body could endure them. And this may suffice for a taste of that fruit, which the fervent endeavours of Religious men have broughtforth in the Christian world.   

Reasons, why a Religious course of life is most proper to bring-forth these kinds of fruit. CHAP. XXXI.  
IT is not only true, that Religious Orders have brought forth such abundance of fruit, as I have said; but also that no state of life, no company of men, is so proper and well provided for it, as they are. Whereof there might be many reasons given, but we will reduce them to three. The first may be drawn from the nature and disposition of God, and the fashion which he doth hold with us. For if we consider attentively the ways, which from the beginning of his Church he hath used to bring men to Salvation, we shall find, that he hath always chosen those instruments and helps for so great a business, which were most destitute of humane means towards the performance of it.  

God chose the ignoble to preach the Gospel.  2. This is that which S. Paul writing of the Primitive Church observed and taught, that there were not many powerful, or noble, or wise man according to the flesh, but God chose the weak of the world to confound the strong; and the ignoble, and contemptible, and the things which are not, to destroy those which are; and giveth this solid reason of it, that all flesh may not glory, that is, that the glory of so great a work should not be given to men, and humane forces, and so the Cross of Christ be evacuated, as he speaketh. To which effect S. Ambrose also speaking very well, 
1. Cor. 1. S. Ambrose San Lucam.  biddeth us mark the heavenly project. He hath chosen, saith he, to send not the wise, or the rich, or the noble, but fishermen and Publicans; to the end that he might not be thought to have invited the world by ostentation of power, or bought it out with abundance of wealth, or drawn any man to his favour by the show of nobility and greatness, that the force of truth, and not grace in disputing, might prevail. And we must not think that God is changed, or that the wisdom of God taketh an other course now for the conversion of souls, then anciently he did. For neither can there be any change in God, and the motives still remain, lest that, which is altogether Divine, be attributed to humane strength; to which men are prone enough in their own disposition; because their carnal eyes behold only that which outwardly is done by man, and cannot reach to see the force of the inward grace, from which all these effects proceed. The difference only is this, that anciently God for the most part chose those, which were bred and borne in poverty & want; and now he maketh use of those who have voluntarily made themselves poor of their own accord. And the reason is, because if all they, that are nobly and richly borne, were excluded from this perfection, they should be deprived of so great a good without any fault of theirs: and on the other side, if they should be admitted unto it with their worldly riches, God should go from his rule, as I have said; and therefore he hath divinely tempered it so, that they that are nobly descended, and wealthy, and powerful, might have part of this glory, yet so as first they forsake their worldly wealth and honour, and bring themselves of their own good will to an humble and poor estate. And we may observe further, that so long as the Church had no earthly possessions, and the workmen thereof were poor and destitute of worldly helps, and lead their life, as the Apostles did, in hunger and thirst, in cold and nakedness, God used in a manner no other instruments in it but them: 
2. Corinth. 9  But when afterwards, as S. Hierome writeth, it grew greater in power and riches, and less in virtue (which Age he so long ago termeth the dregs of times) then, 
S. Hierome in vita Malach.  and ever since, the Divine goodness hath called Religious poor men to this work, which cannot be effected but by them that are poor. This was figured in that great Goliath the Giant, representing the Devil, that stood upbraiding God and his forces; for God chose not an other Giant, nor yet a man grown to pull him down, 
1. Reg. 17.34.49.  but a beardless and naked boy: And when the walls of Hierico, 
jos. 6.  that is, the fortifications which Satan maketh, were thrown down to the ground, not by Canonshot, or military engines, but with the blast of a trumpet, which God knows how weak it is. And the same was foreshowed in that new manner of going into the field, without any weapon, but only a lamp put into an earthen pitcher, to wit, sanctity covered with an outward humble manner of life; which notwithstanding cannot but show itself, and showing itself, confound all the host of Satan and all his forces. This is the reason which hath moved God to hold this course.  
3. The second reason reflecteth upon the men that are to be holpen. 
Example more forcible than words.  For whereas example of life is much more forcible to persuade, than words alone, if the Auditory hear a discourse of shunning honour, of embracing poverty, of voluntary abasing and humbling oneself, and of all that mortification which the Gospel teacheth; and yet the man himself that speaketh it, abound in riches, and honour, and worldly glory, his words will have little force; because though we may retain these things, and our hart and affection not be upon them, yet it seldom is so; and when it happeneth to be so, yet people cannot know it, because they cannot dive into the secrets of our hart. And here we speak not of what may be, but what is more forcible to persuade and win people's hearts. For who can make any doubt, but that people will easier believe, that a man sets all humane things at naught, if they see him indeed contemn them, then if outwardly they see no such thing by him, though inwardly in his mind he be so disposed?  

Contempt of the world, admirable in the eyes of the world.  4. Besides that, this kind of life carrieth a great authority in the world. For whereas the goods and pleasures thereof, like smooth-toungued dames lead the greater part of the world by the nose, they beholding others so easily to resist them, and to tread those vices under foot, to which their consciences tell them that themselves and others are in bondage, they cannot but have a great conceit of them, and secretly in their hearts admire them, and extol them among their neighbours, as men that have done strange things; and not without great reason. For it is a great point to be master in this kind of all earthly things, to subdue ourselves, and the crooked inclinations which are in us; and they that contemn the world with all the allurements thereof, must needs be of a noble and heroical spirit, and endued with rare and eminent virtue. So that breeding so much admiration in the minds of men, nothing can be more forcible also to move and persuade; and they that have not this in them, want a special means, and as it were a proper instrument both to sow and reap this fruit of souls.  

S. john Chrysostom h●m 46. in Matth.  5. Let us hear what S. john Chrysostome saith to this purpose; for he doth verily think this to be the cause, why in the Apostles time there was so much good done, and the Age wherein himself lived, was become so barren. If twelve men, saith he, were able to convert the whole world, think with yourselves▪ how great our wickedness is, who cannot reform our own subjects, being so many of us, that we might suffice for leaven for ten thousand worlds. You will say, the Apostles wrought miracles. But it was not their miracles, which made them so much admired. For many sinners did cast out Devils, and wrought no such effects, but were punished. What was it then which made them so great? The contempt of money, the despising of honour, the abstaining from all businesses of this life; if they had not had these things, though they had raised the dead, they would not only not have holpen any body, but been esteemed seducers. Thus far S. john Chrysostome, most properly to the commendation of a Religious state; the profession whereof is poverty, and a perfect renunciation of all things.  

Religious people more free to attend to the conversion of Souls.  6. The third reason may be drawn from the workmen themselves, that labour in this harvest of Souls. For it cannot be doubted, but that they are much better provided for this work, than others; by reason they have nothing at all in the world. For first they are free, and lightsome, and ready to go and run, whither soever the spirit of our Lord shall move them, because their minds are not entangled in thoughts of children, or possessions, or household-affaires, which thoughts bring two great inconveniences upon them; for they take up time, which might be better spent in more profitable things; and our mind (will we, nile we) doth cleave too much to them, while we handle them, which is both unworthy, & unbeseeming a labourer in the Gospel & greatly inconvenient.  

Deut. 20.  7. This was anciently figured in that Military Law●, which God made; that they who had built a new house, or planted a new vineyard, or newly wedded a wife, or were otherwise fearful, should not go with the Camp: upon which Caveat we find often, and particularly in the war, of which Gedeon was the leader, that two and twenty thousand soldiers were sent back. And of the ten thousand that remained God cashiered all that laid themselves down upon their breast to drink at the river, and in the muster they were left but three hundred, that had drunk standing; and yet as few as they were, they got a notable victory. What is this but that which we have hitherto said, that they that plant vineyards, that is, who give themselves to worldly businesses, or follow the pleasures of marriage, and other contentments of the body, or are possessed with any other worldly fear, or love, and abase themselves to these inferior things, are unfit to follow this heavenly warfare? The chosen band of three hundred men, a handful in itself, but full of manly courage, evidently signify Religious people, that are void of all earthly cares, and all humane fear, which is wont to attend upon them; and they are but few, if we compare them with the multitude of other people. S. Ambrose therefore saith well: 
S. Ambros. lib. c. in Lu●.  The precepts of the Gospel show plainly, what a one he ought to be, that preacheth the kingdom of God, that without rod, without scrip, without shoes, without bread, without money, that is, requiring no assistance of worldly help, secure in faith, he makes account, that the less he looks after these things, 
People sin more out of infirmity, than 〈◊〉 o●ance.  the more he may have.  
8. We may add moreover, that whereas men for the most part sin not out of ignorance (for the Law of God is now sufficiently diwlged, and people know sufficiently what they are to do) whereas therefore, I say, they offend not, because they know not wherein they offend, but because their will is infirm and weak, they want not so much instruction, as fervour; and their will is more to be stirred up, than their understanding informed. Now to sti●re-vp others, nothing is so powerful and so necessary, as that he, that goeth about it, be himself moved and inflamed; which S. Gregory declareth excellently well, as all other things, in a certain place of his Morals: The mind (saith he) occupied with desires of outward things, cannot be warm in the love of God; and therefore the warmth, which comes out of a cold hart, cannot inflame the auditory with heavenly desires, for that which hath not fire in it, cannot kindle another thing. Which saying of S. Gregory is grounded upon good reason; 
S. Gregory 2. Mora●. c. 25.  for if, according to Philosophy, the effect must be like the cause from which it proceedeth, the works of loving God, flying from sin, going against our inclination, and the like heavenly and divine effects, can never be wrought by force of human instruction, or eloquence, but there must be a Divine and heavenly virtue added; which virtue as it is seldom to be seen in the world, so it is ordinary in Religion, and springeth largely and plentifully out of the fountains thereof, where every one filling himself, delivereth out of the abundance of his hart, as out of a plentiful store-house, new and old, for the benefit of his neighbour.  
9 There be yet two other things in Religious people, 
Union of many, is a great help to compau good things.  that greatly conduce to the bringingforth of abundant fruit, and beating down of the adverse party. First, the union of so many together, and so great union as there cannobe a greater; for it is evident, that there can be no great matter achieved but by the help of many. And the reason is that, which we have discoursed-of at large else where, that no one man can have all things in him; & consequently he that shall go about to assist his neighbour himself alone, must needs find himself short in this▪ 
Const. more. 〈…〉.  as in many other things. chose, Religious people (as S. ●asi● expresseth it) are as soldiers, that fight many of them close together under their targets, that it is impossible to break through them or amongst them: so Religious people being so united together as they are, they are a fence, as he speaketh, & defence one to another, and easily ward the blows which the enemy giveth, and put others also in safety, causing them to fly, and yield the field, and this they do laying their wits, and their forces and their labours together, and do it the more effectually, the more perfectly this union and concord of wills and judgements is observed in every particular Religious Order.  

Chastity a great help.  10. The second is the Vow and observance of Chastity, which God doth so highly esteem, that he hath used it in diverse occasions to overcome, and beat down the Devil; a figure whereof we have in Holofernes & his army, which God put to rout by no other forces then those of chaste judith, as joachim the high Priest observed, and published in the public thanks, which he gave after so great a victory, speaking thus in commendation of her: Because thou didst love chastity, and hast not known any other man since thy husband, therefore the hand of our Lord hath strengthened thee, and thou shalt be blessed for ever. And certainly if it were so great a wonder to find one judith among such a multitude of people as there were, and this one woman brought so great a happiness to all that nation; how glorious is it for the Catholic Church to behold so many that live pure and chaste in it? and what benefit may we expect thereof, but an excessive strength, and force to the utter overthrowing of the Infernal Holofernes, that is the Devil, and of all his Satanical host?  
11. Which when we behold, we may justly admire the wonderful providence of God, in continually relieving his Church with new supplies. For we may distinguish, as it were, three Ages in it: The first of blessed Martyrs, that have made the field of the Church more fruitful by watering it with their blood. 
S. Greg. mor 2. c. q. job 9  The second Age was of holy Doctors, who in the Book of job (as S. Gregory interpreteth) were designed by the Hyadeses. For as the Hyadeses begin to appear when winter is gone, and bring rain with them; so the Doctors began to rain showers of knowledge and learning upon the earth, when the Winter of persecution being gone, and the night of Infidelity lessened, the Spring began to comein & quiet times. The third Age was of Religious men, sent after the two former in far greater number, to assist in the salvation of mankind. And as in those first beginnings, when the Faith of Christ, being but yet as it were in the cradle, was sorely combated with many enemies, it was fit there should be some to defend it with the loss of their own life; and as the number of the Faithful increasing, the learning of Doctors was necessary for their instruction, and for the suppressing of Heresies, that necessarily sprung up; so in this third state of the world, wherein the continuance of peace and security bred love of earthly things, and brought people as it were into darkness by forgetfulness of heavenly things, it was a special act of the wisdom of God, to introduce such a kind of form of living every where in the world, as should both curb vice by example of voluntary poverty and humility, and with learning sight also against the Heresies, that are still growing up.  
12. At which, in my opinion, was evidently declared to S. Francis in an admirable Vision, which he had, and by him to all others, that have forsaken the world as he did. For S. Bonaventure relateth of him, that on a time, when he had given his clothes from his back to a poor man that asked him an alms for the love of God, 
S. Ronavent in vi●a S. Fran●.  the night following as he was at rest, it seemed unto him, that he was brought into a great palace, where there was a fair Hal full of all kinds of weapons, and all the weapons were marked with the Cross of Christ. He asked whose all that armour was; and it was answered him, that it all belonged to him, and his soldiers. Awaking out of his sleep, and not acquainted as yet with spiritual things, he imagined that the Vision aboaded him some great excellency in Chivalry and great honour; wherefore he presently went to a Count in Apulia, by whose means he thought he might be advanced to some fortune in that kind. In his journey our Lord appeared again unto him as he was asleep, and said: Francis, who can be more beneficial unto thee, the Master or the servant? the rich or the poor? Francis answered that which was the truth. Wherefore then (saith our Saviour) dost thou leave the Master for the servant? and God that is rich, for man that is poor? And S. Francis replied: What then wilt thou have me do? Return (saith he) into thy country; for that which thou hast seen, doth not abode any temporal thing; neither is it to be fulfilled by any humane, but by divine help. Out of which Vision we may learn that his Order, and all other Religious Orders, which in like manner make war against the Devil for the help of Souls, are all of them as so many magazines and armouries richly stored, and as so many Towers of David built with forts, 
Cant. 4.  from which, as it is in the Canticles, a thousand shields do hang, and all the armour of the strong.   

How many Religious men have been eminent in learning and eloquence CHAP. XXXII.  
BESIDES these spiritual ornaments, which are supernatural, and without all question the chiefest of all, and most to be esteemed, there be others within the compass of nature, which add both grace and ability for the business of which we are speaking; whereof the principal are Learning and Eloquence. For as there be two things proper to man, wherein he surpasseth the nature of beasts, 
Man excels beasts in two things.  to wit, Reason and Speech: So whosoever doth bring these two to greatest perfection in himself, he is to be accounted most eminent among men, and more eminent than if he excel others in wealth and riches; and men among themselves are wont most of all to admire these things in others, and to have a great conceit of those persons, in whom they behold them. Wherefore though the benefits of Grace and Spirit be, as I may say, the proper copyhold of Religious men, in which they are masters; yet the infinite goodness of God hath been also pleased to heap upon them these others in great abundance; either because a Religious State should not want any thing that might be a true and solid grace unto it, or because Learning and Eloquence applied to spiritual things, make an excellent temper, both for the benefitting of our own souls, and for the help of our Neighbours, which most of these Institutes do attend unto.  

Religious men have made Learning more learned.  2. And to begin with Learning, it hath doubtless so flourished at all times in Religion, that we may truly say, that Religious men have made Learning more learned, and brought it to a more easy way of learning, and deriving itself to posterity. For in their life-time they gave light unto it by teaching arguing, explaining; and left after their death so many learned writings behind t●em, that all Sciences, which they thought worthy themselves to take pains in, are now by their endeavours far more plain and perspicuous to conceive. We will therefore briefly runne-over all the Ages of Religion from the beginning, that we may take a view of the infinite multitude of learned men, that have been famous in all times. And it will be the more strange to find so m●nie of them, if we consider that the ancient Monks did of purpose withdraw themselves from matters of learning, to give themselves wholly to contemplation of heavenly things, as S. Gregory relateth of S. Benedict, 
S. Gregory 2. d. 〈◊〉. 1.  who began to study the Liberal Sciences in Rome, but left them of purpose, that he might be, as S. Gregory speaketh, learnedly ignorant, and wisely unlearned. And yet there never wanted learned men even in these times; for then there was a Strapion, Lucian, Pamp●ilus, the six Doctors of the Church, three Greek Doctors, and three Latin, of whom I spoke before, and many more, whom I spare to mention, that we may come down nee●er our lives.  
3. To begin therefore with the Order of S. Benedict, which is the ancientest Order of the Latin Church, it is now one thousand and threescore and ●en years since it first began. In the eleven hundred years therefore which have been since the beginning of that Order, it is a thing almost incredible, how many eminent learned men it hath produced. For in the first Age, that is, till the year Six hundred after Christ, we find Cassiodorus, 
Cassiodorus.  whom I mentioned before, and while he lived, Dionysius surnamed the Little, 
Dionysius 〈◊〉.  the learnedst man absolutely of his Age, both in Divinity and Humanity, as the writings, which he hath left, do show. About the same time lived also S. Gregory the Great, 
2. Gregorie●  Gregory of Tours; and Leander of Sevil, 
Lean●●r.  men that are famous to this day.  

Caesarius.  4. In the second Age, from six to seven hundred, Caesarius (of whom also I have spoken before) was famous in France, Eutropius in Spain, john Bishop of Gerunda in Portugal, Abbot Adaman in Scotland, Theodore in England, 
Theodore.  who being a Monk at Rome, was sent to Canterbury by Pope Vitalian, and was the seaventh Archbishop of that Sea, in whose commendation Vencrable lead speaketh often.  

Vencrable B●de.  5. In the third Age, which is to the year Eight hundred, lived Vencrab●e B●de, a man sufficiently known by his writings; and Boniface Apostle of Germany, 
B●●●fi●e.  renowned b●th for Sanctity and Learning. After them came Ae●●dus Abbot, a Grecian borne, who was a great Philosopher, a Poet, and a rare Physician, and ha●h left many things wri●ten in Verse of matters of Physic. And Alcu●●us master to Charles the G●e●●, 
〈◊〉.  and so highly in favour, that he was w●nt to call him his Delight; to his wisdom Charles committed the ordering of the University of Paris, the form whereof he brought from Rome. He hath written many things both of his own invention, and upon the holy Sepiptures. Paulus Diaconus was in esteem about the same time, he that made the Hympe of S. john Baptist, and wrote m●nie other things, whereof part is yet extant.  
5. In the fourth Age, till the year Nine hundred, 
Haymo.  Haymo a Monk of Fulda, scholar to Alcumus, and afterwards Bishop, is deservedly to be ranked among the learnedst of his time; he hath written upon all the Scripture & many things of his own. Rabanus Abbot also of Fulda, 
Rabanus.  and Archbishop of M●nts, is not inferior to him; his writings alone are able almost to fill a Library. For when he was but a child when his parents offered him to the Monastery of Fulda, he ●ad profited so far in Poetry, Philosophy, & in the Scriptures, that he had not his like in all Germany, and perhaps not in the world. Angelomus Luxoniensis, known by his writings, and Strabu● of Fulda, 
Stra●us.  who is said to be the Author of the Glossa Ordinaria compiled out of holy Fathers, were next unto him in time and learning.  
6. In the fifth Age, from the year Nine hundred to One thousand, Odo Abbot of Clun● is commended for his knowledge in Divine & human learning. 
Odo Cluniacen.  Heriger Abbot of Job hath the name of a learned man not only in France, but in Italy and Germany. Ratheriu● also a M●nk of Job, Bishop of Verona, a man rare for simplicity joined with deep learning; & many others; but among them none is more famous than Rap●e a Monk of Fulda▪ 
Rodulphus Fuldensis.  of whom the whole Church of God had so great an opinion, that thinking none comparable to him for Philosophy or Divinity, all the ●ard Questions were sent him from all parts of the world.  
7. The sixth Age was yet much more fruitful of such wits; and among them, besides many others, whose names are extant, we may reckon Marianus Scotus, 
Marianus Scotus.  who lived shutup in a Celle at Fulda eleven years together, and fifteen years at M●n●z, in which time of his retirement he wrote his Chronicle from the beginning of the world to his days, and was much respected by all for his learning an● much more for his sanctity.  
8. About the same time Lanfranck was held to be the learnedst of his Age in Logic and Philosophy, 
Lanf●an●k.  and the Light and Master of Divines. It is reported of him, that going from Pama (where he was borne, and had read with great applause) into France, he fell into the hands of thieves, that rob him, and carried him away; which he took so impatiently at first, that reflecting upon it afterwards, he much condemned himself for it; because having spent so much time in the study of holy Scriptures, he had not learned to praise God in adversity; and presently he made a Vow, that if he escaped their hands, he would betake himself to the service of God. Being set free he came to the Monastery of B●●k, & there lived for a while unknown, as if he had been an Idiot without any learning at all, till some Italian merchants coming thither, discovered what he was. Then he was put to read in his own Monastery, and afterwards was promoted to the Archbishopric of Canterbury by the Pope's Holiness. Anseim● was his scholar and successor in his Chair, 
S. Anselm●.  first at Beek, then in the Archbishopric of Canterbury, and resembled him in all things. The books, which are yet extant, of his writing, show sufficiently his learning, so that we shall not need to say any mo●e of ●im.  
9 Next unto these, we may reckon the two Cardinals that lived at the same time; to wit, Humbert a Monk of Toul, 
Humber●.  whom Leo the Ninth made Cardinal for the rare learning and virtue which was in him, and sent him to Constantinople to suppress the audaciousness of an other Leo Bishop of the Bulgarians; and Petrus Damianus, 
Petrus Damianus.  whose learning and eloquence is to this day testified by his writings; his sanctity appeareth in that having been a long time Cardinal, and Bishop of Hostia, weary at last of that kind of life, he withdrew himself (as S. Gregory Nazianzen had done before him) to his former Monastical course, and yielded reasons thereof in writing.  

H●rmannus C●ntractas.  10. Finally, to let pass others, Hermannus Contractus was a great man in those days; and his learning was the more memorable, because he had it by miracle. This we find written of him. He was descended of a noble Count of Swedland, and was crooked and lame from his infancy, which gave him the surname of Contractus. Entering to be a Monk, he besought our Blessed Lady very earnestly, that she would be pleased to cure him of his infirmity. She appearing unto him in broad daylight, bade him choose, whether he would be freed of his lament, and remain unlearned as he was, or continue with his infirmity, and be eminent in all manner of learning. Hermannus choosing this latter, as he ought, he ever after profited wonderfully in all kind of knowledge; and it is thought, that he had not his like in many Ages; and particularly he spoke Latin, Greek, and Hebrew, as his natural language.  

Petrus Cluniacensi●.  11. In the seaventh Age, till the year One thousand two hundred, we find many very learned men in all kind of Sciences. Peter Abbot of Cluni is reckoned amongst the chiefest of them, whose books are yet extant, and in particular his Book of Wonders and Revelations, that happened in his time.  

Sigebert. Gratian.  12. Sigebert Monk of Gembl●ux at the same time wrote his Chronicle and other Histories. Gratian Monk of Bologne compiled the famous Work called the Decrees, out of the Sentences of the holy Fathers, and Determinations of Popes; which Work was afterwards allowed-of by Pope Eugenius the Third. But the famousest of all were Hugo of Saint Victor in Paris▪ 
Hugo Victorinus. Rupertus.  and Rupertus Abbot of Tuy. The many Volumes which this latter hath left written, do testify the eminency of his learning, and the miracle also by which he received it. For finding himself very dull, he earnestly begged of our Blessed Lady, she would vouchsafe to beg of her Son, that he might understand the Scriptures. Our Blessed Lady appeared unto him, and told him, his request was granted; and that he should have so much insight in them, that no body in that Age should come near him; only that he should not bury his Talon in the ground, but carefully traffic with it; which certainly he performed abundantly; for he never after ceased to write and read. In the eighth Age, from One thousand two hundred till One thousand three hundred, 
He●man.  Helman a Monk of Bea●uais was very skilful both in holy Scriptures, and Secular learning, and left many things written. And at the same time william Abbot of Poitiers was a great Divine, and a great Civil-lawyer. And Philip Perganius in a Monastery of Milan was rare both for learning and eloquence; and Peter Berchorius a Monk in Paris, of whose books there is a long Catalogue to be seen.  
13. From the year One thousand three hundred till the year One thousand four hundred, we meet also with many famous men of learning, as Lapus Abbot of Saint Min●a●, 
Lapus.  for Divinity, and both the Civil and Canon law; and Peter Bo●erius Abbot of Auian, Doctor of the Canon law; and Peter Rogers, he that was afterwards Pope, known by the name of Clement the sixth, 
Boli●ri●is Auian. Cl●men: 6.  a man of great wit, and excellent learning, and so eloquent, that he drew the people in his Sermons to what he would; that it can be no wonder, if a man so qualifyed, was raised to he highest dignity in the Church of God.  
13. The tenth Age till the year One thousand five hundred, besides other raremen, reckoneth some that are very eminent in the Canon Law; as Henry Abbot of Nuremberg; john Rhode Abbot of ●reuers, who did God good service in the Council of Basle; Nicolas also, he that first was Abbot of Munichen, afterwards Archbishop of Palermo, and lastly Cardinal. He wrote many Aduises in Law, 
Panormitanus.  and a Comment upon the whole body of the Canon law; the authority whereof is to this day so great, that no man is more famous than he.  
14. Finally in this last Age, in which we are, we know of many learned men; as Ignatius Abbot in a Monastery of Florence; john Bap●●lla in Parma; both of them eminent in Divine and Secular learning. In Spain we hear of one Paschalis, that was public Reader of Divinity in Salaman●a. And finally in these our days, the name of one Gregory is famous, who was Abbot of the great Monastery of Mantua, and afterwards made Cardinal by Paul the Third. He is said to have been skilful in all Sciences; & that he spoke Latin and Greek both readily and eloquently. And as he lay on his death bed, it is reported of him that he spoke thus to him that waited in his chamber: Behold, we have been Cardinal thus many years; 
A memorable saying of a Cardinal.  what becomes now of this honour? How much better had it been to have died in Religion, where my soul had been in less danger?  
15. These were Monks, & few in comparison of them I might name. In other Religious Orders, Learning hath flourished more, because their endeavours have been directed to the help of others, who cannot be holpen without learning. And it is a thing worthy of admiration, to see how plentifully all Orders have been stored with rare wits, and men of great learning. But because these Orders are of later standing, and consequently the subjects of them more known, we will pass them over cursorily, and only name them.  
16. First therefore, what rare men have the Dominicans had? Albertus Magnus, 
Dominicans.  Heruous, Durand, Hugo Cardinal, who hath written learnedly upon all Scripture; Raymund, he that, according to S. Antonine, ordered the Decretals, by appointment of Pope Gregory; S. Antonine himself, a man rare for learning and sanctity; Capreolus, Petrus Tarantasius, he that afterwards was Pope by the name of Innocent the fifth, Petrus Paludanus, Chrysostomus janellius, Ferrara; both the Sotus; two Cardinals, to wit, Torquemada, and Caietan, and many more whom it were to long a business to rehearse. But he that among them all cannot be omitted, and of whom we have special reason to speak apart, as the chief of them all, is S. Thomas, 
S. Thomas.  whose profoundness, perspicuity, & abundance of knowledge, who can extol as he deserveth? And besides these who are all of them known by their writings, who is able to reckon all them that have laboured profitably in the Church of God, in every Age, to the great benefit of their Neighbour, by teaching schools, determining doubts, delivering their opinions in several occasions, and have lived with great commendation of all men, 
Franciscans.  the number of them is so infinite?  
17. The Franciscans began somewhat later and not so generally at first to give themselves to Learning. For their Founder S. Francis having received the wisdom and knowledge, which he had, rather from heaven, than got it by his own labour and industry, broughtup his Friars to the same. 
S. Anthony of Milan.  Yet S. Antony of Milan coming to his Order with a great deal of learning from the world, he permitted him to teach Divinity to them of his own Order; and the short Epistle is yet extant in which he giveth him leave to do it; so that withal he be careful, as he speaketh, that the occupation of learning, extinguish not the spirit of prayer. Afterwards upon this precedent (and also upon necessity, that they might be able to help their neighbours) others among them fell to their studies, and profited exceedingly in them. For about the year One thousand two hundred forty five, Alexander Hales was famous for learning; 
Alexander Hales.  and after him his scholar S. Bonaventure, 
S. Bonaventure.  a man full of knowledge, and facile and clear in his explications. And about the year One thousand two hundred fourscore and five, Richard Midleton; 
Ri●hard Middleton.  and john dunskot, commonly known by the name of Scotus in the year One thousand three hundred; a man admirably subtle and acute. There followed them their scholars william Ockam a very witty man; 
Scotus. O●kam. Ma●ron. A●uarus Pelagius.  and Francis Ma●ron, he that in the University of Paris is styled the Illuminate Dortour. About the same time lived Al●●rus Pelagius a Doctor of the Canon and Civil Law, and of Divinity; of whom every body had a great opinion in his life-time, but chiefly Pope john the Two and twentieth. We may add Peter Auicolus, who by his learning got the Chair at Aix; and Nicolas Lyra, 
Lyra.  a jew by descent, who is famous for his Notes upon the whole Scripture according to the Literal sense, about the year One thousand three hundred & thirty, & of late years Alfonsus a Castro, Michael Med●na, Francis T●●lma●, singular in interpreting the holy Scripture, and diverse others, that are so known that it is to no end to name them.  
18. We may make the like catalogue of men of other Religious Orders; for all of them have been fraught with learned men, 
O●her Orders.  and some very eminent among them. As among the Augustins Aegidius Romanus, 
●●gidius Romanus. Thomas Waldensis. Dionysius.  in the year One thousand and fourscore. Among the Carmelites Thomas of Walden in the year One thousand four hundred and thirty. Among the Carthusians Dionysius, in the year One thousand four hundred and f●urescore. To be short, he that desires to know more at large, what learning hath been brought to light by Religious men of all Orders, and what fruit hath come of it to the Church of God, let him read Trithemius, who hath diligently and carefully laid together all the Ecclesiastical writers, that have been since the birth of Christ in every Age; in which large Work of his, he shall find that Religious men are the far greater part among them, and shall meote with few others in comparison of them; which is an evident argument of what I have said.  

The Society of JESUS.  In which kind also our Society of JESUS, though last in time, hath done something, & added a helping hand to the advancement of Learning. For not only the whole body of the Society doth attend to learning, it being one of the chief things, which by institute it professeth, but it hath revived that which was anciently ●he practise of Religious men, but of late years hath been intermitted, and not contenting itself with professing learning within itself, it undertaketh to communicate the learning, which it hath, with others, by teaching public Schools. And to the end it may derive the greater benefit to others, it confineth not itself to Divinity or Philosophy, as for the most part other Religious Orders do, but it teacheth all Arts & Sciences and Grammer-schooles; and leaveth out none but such as are not so suitable to a Religious profession to meddle in, as the Civil or Common Law, and Physic.  
19 In fine, to summe-up the discourse which we have made, Religious men may in a manner glory, that most kinds of learning have been revived by their industry, which but for them would have been wholly extinct; others have been refined and polished by them. For what had become of Divinity, which is the Queen of all Sciences, if it had not been cultivated by them, and brought into the way and method, in which it is? And though Philosophy hath been learnedly handled by others, yet Religious men have much illustrated and enlarged it, and added, and explained, and reform many things in it, according to the rule of Faith.  
20. It remaineth that we speak of Eloquence, 
Eloquence.  wherein Religious men have been as eminent as in Learning. And we shall easily see it, if we consider the infinite multitude of Preachers, which in the Christian world are beating their Pulpits, specially at some times of the year. For though all of them be not equally eloquent, yet no man can deny that there have been and are to this day very many exquisite tongues, that with a fluent style, and choice words, and abundance of good matter well couched together, take, and delight, and lead the auditory to what they please. For if the effect of Eloquence be the applause of the hearers, certainly they, that deal with people that are sensual (such as naturally loathe spiritual things) & are notwithstanding able▪ not only to draw them to give ear unto them, but to hold them suspense in admiration, and delight them, and steal upon their minds and affections, so as to bring some from dishonest behaviour to chastity, some from unlawful trading to upright dealing, some from rancour and hatred to peace and concord, finally not a few from the love of the world, in which they were drowned over head and ears, to the contempt thereof, and utter forsaking of all earthly things, must needs have a great gift in speaking. Anciently the Orators that could speak to the humour of the people were in greatest esteem; and we find few either in Greece or Rome that could do it; and those few are so famous that the Countries, where they were borne, are renowned for them. What an honour therefore is it to us, to have so many rare men in this kind? But if we reflect upon the solidness of the matter, the weight of both their sayings, and, as I said, upon the effects which ours have wrought, there is no comparison between them and us.  
21. We read of S. Bernardin of Sienna, 
S Bernardin of Sienna.  a Franciscan-Friar; he was a man so well-spoken, that in what place soever & at whatsoever time he was to preach, not only the people that had nothing else to do, came to hear him, but even tradesmen shut up their shops, and every body else their houses, to be at his Sermon.  
22. We find the like recorded of S. Peter, 
S. Peter Martyr.  who is now commonly called the Martyr, of the Order of S. Dominick. He traveled almost through all parts of Italy; and making a stay for some time in every city and village, he reclaimed and infinite number of people by his wholesome exhortations from the filth of sin. At his first arrival unto any place, it was an ordinary thing for all the inhabitants, from the highest to the lowest, to go out to meet him with flags and sound of trumpets, and accompany him with like solemnity when he went away, and had much ado to part from him; and such a multitude always thronged to his Sermons, that he was forced oftimes to be carried away in a cart, that he might not be crushed in the press.  

S. Antony of Milan.  2●. What shall we say of S. Antony of Milan? whom the people did usually follow in such multitudes, that the largest Churches they could choose, were not capable of them, but they were fain to carry the pulpit into the streets or into the fields, and yet they flocked thither so fast to take place betimes, that a man might see noble men & women repair thither before day, and stand expecting his voice as it were from heaven. And while he was speaking, though there were sometimes thirty thousand Auditors, there was not the least noise, or muttering, or spitting to be heard, but all were extremely silent and attentive. Did the like ever happen to Demosthenes, or to any of those ancient Orators, though they were held to be never so eloquent?  

S. Vincent.  24. We read no less of S. Vincent a Dominican-Friar; and one thing in particular, which doth lively setforth the force of his eloquence. For whereas on a time two malefactors were going to dye, he commanded them to stand at a place where he was preaching, their faces covered, probably to the end they might be less distracted; where he began to discourse with that vehemency of the foulness of sin, of the pain of hell, and such other motives as are wont to stirre-up sorrow and repentance, that the two malefactors began first to sweat for very grief and contrition of hart, and at last were turned into a very coal, as if they had been burned with fire; which was apparent unto all the people, so soon as their faces were uncovered. How vehement was his speech, which was able in this manner to inflame both the mind and the very body also? We meet not with many of these very strange effects, which S. Vincent wrought; but we meet with others much of the like nature, to wit, inward conversions, strange reformations, great restitutions. And that S. Vincent and other Religious men were so powerful in their speech, is a great honour and commendation to the whole State of Religion. Wherefore to conclude this discourse of natural helps, as God commanded the jews, when they went out of Egypt, 
Exo●. 11.  to borrow the Egyptians best vessel and household-stuff, & carry it with them: So when Religious men forsake the world, they go not out of it void of natural gifts, but carry their abilities of wit, and memory, and learning, and other qualities with them; and employing them with care and industry, 
〈…〉 the 〈◊〉.  the Graces of Heaven concurring, they wonderfully increase them, and grow eminent in them; and have in Religion both more abundance of these natural gifts, than they could have had, if they had remained in the world, and are more able to make use of them. For how often, or rather how daily are men's wits, and eloquence, and other nobilities lost in the world, lying dead for want of action? And though they be employed upon secular occasions, they are notwithstanding but idly spent; because the things in which they are employed, are earthly & perishable; whereas in the negotiation, which Religion affordeth, they are bettered, for the reasons which I have said, and concur in great measure to the advancement of the glory of God.  
25. In which respect some do truly and fitly compare Religion to that holy judith, 
Iud●●h.  who towards the overcoming of Holofernes applied not only prayer, and fasting, and haircloth, as she was wont to do before, but made use of her rings, and pendants, & slippers, and all her best attire, and setforth her natural beauty to the most; and God blessed her endeavours, adding (as the Scripture telleth us) more grace and beauty to her countenance; & giveth the reason of it, because she intended all this trimming of herself not for looseness, but for virtue. So when Religious men seek these natural abilities, they seek not themselves, having utterly forsaken all from their hart; but they seek the glory of God and the benefit of their neighbours, for whose good all that beauty is intended; and consequently it belongeth also to the goodness of God, to increase their abilities, and (as I said before) to make them more graceful and effectual, than the selfsame would have been in a secular course of life.   

Reasons, why Religious men profit so much in Learning. CHAP. XXXIII.  
BESIDES the special assistance of God, which doubtless is the chiefest cause, there be other reasons, why Religious men have been and are most commonly so eminent in all kind of Learning. 
Time and application.  For first the study of wisdom requireth time and application of mind; both which are seldom found in the world, and abound in Religion. For Secular people are continually in one business or other, and wholly taken-up with the cares of the world; they that have no business, spend their time in unprofitable things, as in hunting and hawking, in play and such like pastimes; people being generally given to ●ase, and to shun labour, as an enemy to nature. Religious men on the other side are free from all worldly business, and consequently have time at will, and they spend it not in idle trifles; neither are they called from their studies, by the trouble and pains, which is annexed unto them; because they are accustomed and take a delight in this cross and mortification, aswel as in many others.  
2. Peace of mind, 
Peace of mind.  which followeth out of the suppression and rooting-out of our disordered affections, is a great help to profit in learning; for if it be not possible to keep our mind attentive to our studies while we are running-about or in any violent exercise of the body, much less can we understand any thing, if our mind itself be wholly troubled, no more than we can see in a duttie troubled water.  
3. Temperance and sobriety helpeth also thereunto. 
Temperance.  For those that are full fed, have not the functions of the mind free as they must, but are dull and heavy.  

Chastity.  4. What need we stand multiplying words? Auerroes a Heathen, and yet a good Philosopher, saith, that Chastity and other virtues, by which the desires of the flesh are kerbed, 
The Grace of God.  are special helps for the attaining of Speculative knowledge. And finally (as I said before, but I mean to insist somewhat more upon it) the light and grace of God concurreth above al. For Religious men directing their studies & labours to the service of God his immortal light, when God giveth them good success in them, he dilateth his own business, and concurreth to the advancing of his own glory and cause; which is otherwise with most secular people, that study for honour or lucre sake. And so we see that God doth oftimes enlighten the mind of Religious men, and show them obscure and hidden things, and makes them capable to understand the hardest Questions by miracle, beyond the course and ability of their nature.  

S Thomas.  5. S. Thomas finding great difficulty in soluing a certain Question, on a time when he had stuck much upon it, was overheard by his companion Reginalu● being in the same chamber, as if he had been speaking with some body in the ni●ht, and when their communication was ended, he called-up his companion, & dictated unto him many things without stop or pause, contrary to his custom, as if he had been reading them out of a book composed to his hand. Re●ina●dus falling down at the Saints feet, beseeched him earnestly and press him to tell him, who it was he had been discoursing-with a little before. S. Thomas over me by his importunity, tol● him, it was S. Paul the Apostle, that had given him the solution of that Question. And at other times the same Saint told R●ginaldus in familiar conversation that all the knowledge he had, came to him more by light from heaven, than his own labour and industry. Which Reginaldus kept to himself so long as S. Thomas lived; for the Saint had desired, he would; but after his decease, he spoke of it often both in private and in open School, that others might by his example learn, which is the shortest and gainest way to wisdom.  
6. That which I related before of Hermannus Contractus, and Rupert Abbot of T●y is yet more admirable, both of them coming to so eminent learning by the gift of our B. Lady. 
Alber●us Magnus.  The like happened unto Albertus Magnus; for as we read in the Chronicles of the Dominican-Friars, entering into the Order when he was but sixteen year old, and profiting little or nothing in his studies, because he was dull and had but a weak memory, he grew so weary of it, that he was tempted even to forsake the Religious course which he had begun. And while he was thus wavering, he dreamt in the night, that he was s●aling the walls of the Monastery to get away, and that two venerable Matrons appeared unto him, & first the one & then the other thrust him down the ladder, as he was getting up; and endeavouring the third time to step up, a third Matron asked him, what he went about to do, & wherefore? And having told her, she willed him rather to beg the assistance of a fourth Lady, which was the Mother of God and Queen of Heaven; and told him that herself and the rest would stand his friends. He did as he was advised; and our B. Lady gave him friendly audience, but asked him, in what Science he would choose to be eminent, in Philosophy or Divinity. He, like a young man, that had not tasted of higher matters, saith he had rather be eminent in Philosophy. And our B. Lady replied, it shall be as thou desirest; but because thou hast preferred this knowledge before the knowledge of my Son, in thy ●atter days thou shalt lose all thy knowledge, and fall into thy former dulness, which now shall be taken from thee. The Vision vanishing, he presently felt an alteration in himself, and ever after was easily master of whatsoever he heard or read; or if he met with any difficult question, he turned himself to our B. Lady, & claimed her promise; and instantly he was at the end of it. By this means he came to that greatness which we read of him, and he taught many years, and wrote very many things. And three years before he died, whilst he was giving the explication of some passage or other in a public assembly, he felt at the instant, that his memory failed him; insomuch that he could not remember any thing at al. Then he told his Audience, what had happened unto him in his youth; and making protestation that whatsoever might befall him, he believed the articles of the Catholic Faith, and desired to die in the profession of them, he came down out of his Chair, his Scholars following him wi●h tears, and embracing him; and in the rest of his life he waxed as it were a child again; and passed his time in great simplicity; yet so, as he omitted not any thing belonging to the duty of a Religious man; for his memory served him for such things, and for nothing else. This strange accident which befell Al●ertus (God taking from him all the knowledge which he had lent him, to show that it was his gift) giveth us to understand, that other Religious men, that are or have been excellent in Learning, have had it also by the special help and grace of God.   

Of three degrees of Beauty and Dignity, which are in Religion. CHAP. XXXIV.  
LET us now consider the dignity of Religion, as it is grounded in the distinction, which Divines do give, of three kinds of Religious Orders; for some give themselves to Action; others to Contemplation; others couple Action and Contemplation both together.  
2. The first degree therefore confineth itself to outward actions, 
Religions which give themselves to Action.  which though they be done to men, have relation to God; which S. Thomas discoursing of, proveth, because a Religious State is directed to Charity; and Charity resteth not in God only, but stretcheth itself to our Neighbour; 
S. Thomas 21 q 188.2.2.  and yet in regard we love not our Neighbour but for God, whatsoever service we do to our Neighbour, we do it to God; in which respect all such outward actions belong to the virtue of Religion. And so we find, that whatsoever benevolence is bestowed upon man, 
H●br 〈◊〉  is called by S. Paul, a Sacrifice, and an Host; and consequently, as the same S. Thomas infers, Religious Orders may be erected for the performance of any work, that is behooveful for our Neighbour; as for the exercises of Learning or of War, so i● be intended for the honour of God, for the Church, or for the common good; and the like we may say of other works done for God's sake, as to ransom prisoners, to gather alms for relief of the poor, or for the placing of young women in marriage; to serve in Hospitals, and the like.  
3. Which kind of Religious Orders is no new invention; for they have been anciently in use, as we may understand by that which we read in Cassian, 
Cassian.  where he bringeth Abbot Nestero● discoursing to this effect: This manner of practical life (for so he styleth it) is used in diverse sorts. 
Colla. 14. c. 4.  Some employ themselves in entertaining of guests, in which kind he commendeth Macarius for his meekness and patience; others take charge of sick people; others beg relief for them that are in misery; some again bestow their labour in teaching, and instructing their neighbour, others in other businesses, and (as he speaketh) have been accounted great men for their good will and devotion. And what can be said more in commendation of these kind of courses, then that they that follow them, have made themselves voluntary servants not of God only, but of men for the love of God, and of men infirm and needy? What charity, what humility, what true and solid patience must needs belong to such a course of life? Finally out Lord himself highly commendeth them in these words: 
Matth. 25.  What you have done to the least of mine, you have done to me. In testimony whereof himself in person, King of Kings, hath vouchsafed to honour these kinds of service, with evident miracles; as when he was entertained by S. Gregory; and received an alms from S. Martin; and the charity of john Columbinus, to whom he appeared in the shape of a sick leper lying in the streets; and when S. john took him up upon his shoulders, and carried him home, and had washed him, and laid him in bed, he vanished away.  

Religious given to Contemplation.  4. The second degree of Religious Orders betaketh itself to the exercises of the mind in Contemplation; which kind of life hath been always held so worthy, that Aristotle, and all the Philosophers that came any thing near the truth, placed the felicity of man in it. Neither is this kind of quiet and retirement to be accounted idle or unfruitful; for as Aristotle also did observe, 
Aristotle. 10. ●●th. ●. 7 & 8. Eth●. 1. c 3.  it cannot be called idle, because though it cease from outward action, it hath the inward; and speculation itself is a kind of action. And we see, that outward actions are oftimes attributed to them, that have not outwardly laboured in them, but inwardly only in thought and forecast; as a victory is attributed to the General, though he fight not with his sword, but by his counsel. Which if a Heathen Philosopher could arrive to know, what opinion ought we to have of such a kind of employment, who know how great the business is, which we handle in Contemplation, what communication is to be had with God, what light, what acts of love? So that if we cannot but think the study and occupation of knowing God, to be the prime and most excellent work we can employ ourselves in, we must needs also conceive, that the Religious, who give themselves wholly to this study, are equal, noble, and excellent. Let us hear how S. Augustin doth set them forth with his eloquence: 
S. August de mor●●.  I say nothing of them, that wholly retired from the sight of men, contenting themselves with bread and water, 
 which is brought unto them at certain times, dwell in the desert places, enjoying familiarity with God, to whom with a pu●● mind they cleave; and by contemplation of whose beauty they are most happy; which happiness cannot be conceived, but by them that are Saints. I will say nothing of them. Some are of opinion, that they retire themselves out of the world more than they ought; not understanding how much benefit we reap by their souls elevated in prayer, and by the example of their life, though we be not suffered to see their bodies. It were long and needles to dispute this question. For if a man conceive not of himself, how venerable and admirable this eminent height of sanctity is, how shall my words make him conceive it? Thus saith S. Augustin. Now if we compare these two degrees together, no doubt but this latter is more noble than the former, consisting, as I said, in outward action. For as S. Gregory speaketh, 
S. Greg 6. mor c. 18.  great are the deserts of the Active life, but the Contemplative is to be preferred; and this was figured (as he discourseth) in the sisters, 
Gen. 29.  Rachel and Lia, Martha and Marie; jacob beating more love to Rachel then to Lia, 
Luc. 10.  and our Saviour commending Marie above Martha, because she was not solicitous about many things, and had chosen the better part, which should not be taken from her.  
5. But because the vulgar sort, 
The contemplative life is a hard life.  who measure every thing by that which they do, and are capable of no more, are wont to hold, that the Religious courses which are in Action, are more difficult than others, which give themselves to Contemplation; 
S. Greg 10, mor. c. 11.  making account that these latter live but an easy life; the authority of S. Gregory, and the reason also which he giveth, doth evidently confute their error. He saith thus: The mind fasteneth upon the Active life without fainting; but in the Contemplative it is soon wearied by the weight of our weakness. The Active lasteth more constantly, by reason it dilateth itself in things that are obvious for the behoof of our neighbour; The Contemplative shrinketh away the sooner, because straining itself beyond the bounds of flesh, it labours to raise itself above itself. The Active taketh the plain beaten way, and consequently treadeth stronger in the works it goeth about; the Contemplative aiming at things higher than itself, falleth the sooner through weariness to itself.  
6. But now finding that these two lives are both of them excellent, 
Religious given both to Active and Contemplative.  though one of them be more excellent than the other, we may easily conceive, how far the third degree, which comprehendeth them both, is more eminent and more noble then either of them severally. For if we take them apart, notwithstanding their excellency, there is something wanting in both of them. 
S Cr●g 6. mor. c. 18.  For to go no further than the authority of S. Gregory abovementioned, Rachel (as he saith) signify the Beginning seen; and Lia signify painful: betokening that in Contemplation we seek a Beginning which is God, in Action we labour under the heavy burden of necessity. Again Rachel is said to be beautiful, but unfruitful; Lia blear-eyed▪ but yet fruitful: because, the mind taking rest in Contemplation, seeth more, and begets fewer children to God; but where it is directed to the labour of preaching, 
Most excellent to join Action and Contemplation.  it seeth less, and bringethforth more children. These are S. gregory's words. And by that which he saith we may see, that if there were a course of life, that without the incommodities of each of these States, could enjoy the commodities of them both, there could not be a more perfect or more excellent course. For whereas the greatest thing we can aim at, is God, who is the Sovereign Good, and from whom we receive all things, and next are men of the same nature with us, which is the greatest propinquity or kindred in the world, no action in this life can be more noble, then that which is directed to the glory of God, and good of our Neighbour. And moreover God himself, Prince and Gowernour of this world, bending his thoughts and actions in a manner to nothing else, but to raise men's minds to Heaven, from earthly things to which they have so basely stooped, there is no question, but to imitate this care of his, and cooperate with him in it, is one of the most noble, and most acceptable businesses we can employ ourselves in.  

S. Thomas 2 1. q. 188. a●●. 6.  7. Wherefore S. Thomas doth rightly distinguish the functions of the Active life into two sorts. For, saith he, some have their full perfection in the bare outward action; as to entertain pilgrims, to serve the sick, to go to war; 
T●o sorts of outward action's.  and these certainly are far inferior to Contemplation: others flow from the abundance of Contemplation, as when our mind inflamed with the love of God, breaketh-forth into the outward actions of Preaching, Teaching, Catechising, and the like. And these are not only more noble than Action by itself, but also greater than Contemplation alone, when it reflect no further than itself, and reaches not to the benefiting of others. And yet this kind of life shall not need to stand in fear, lest it fall into that which our Saviour reprehendeth in Martha, to wit, solicitude and trouble about many things. For when Contemplation is coupled with outward Action, they agree so well together, that Contemplation is a help to the outward work, which we have in hand, and the outward work doth not hinder Contemplation. For, as S. Augustin saith very well, There is a kind of security and solid contentment of mind, 
S. Augustin Ep●st. 1●6.  which man doth sometimes fall upon, so great as all worldly joy is not to be compared to the least parcel of it; and it happeneth to him so much the oftener, the more inwardly in the secret closet of his mind he adoreth God; and the selfsame tranquillity remains not only while a man is solitary and retired, but when he is in action, if his action proceed from that inward retirement.  
8. For mine own particular, I am of opinion, that they that resolve to communicate their virtue with others, are so far from losing any thing by it, as they rather get, in no small measure. For they put God to a kind of necessity of giving them that, which is his will they should bestow upon others. To which purpose we may apply that, which our Saviour said; Give, and it shall be given you; and the holy-ghost in the Proverbs insinuateth: The soul which blesseth, shall be famed; and he that maketh another drunk, shall be made drunk. 
Luc 6.  So that it is with them much as it is with the Prince's Almoner, whom the Prince always furnisheth with store of money; 
Prover. 11.  though, if the Almoner be trusty, there remain nothing to his share, nor is he ever a whit the richer. Wherefore we may rather liken them to one of the Prince's Nurses, that is fed from the Prince's table, and gives the infant part of that, whereof herself hath plenty.  
9 Now how far this kind of life goeth beyond all other Institutes, appears by this one thing, because even they that have given-over all business, & betake themselves to the spiritual rest of Contemplation, shall fail notwithstanding of their duty, if, when their Neighbours are in spiritual necessity, they leave not their retired thoughts, and run to help them. Which argument S. Augustin useth writing to the Monks of the Island Capraria, 
S Aug. Ep ●1.  exhorting them not to prefer their own quiet before the necessity of the Church; at whose labour (saith he) if no good people would assist, themselves would not have found the way, how to come into the world. And so we find, that those great men among the ancient Fathers often forsook their solitudes and the deserts in which they had continued many years, for this only reason; as Theodore● in his Book entitled the Religious history relateth of julian, 
Theo●ore● in Hist. Relig.  that when the wicked opinion of the Arians began to spread itself, Bishop Acatius drew him from his den, with this persuasion, that seeing he endured so much to please God, the best way to please him, 
julian a 〈◊〉. Io. 21.  was to go now into the field, and to his power rescue the Church, that was in danger. Christ, when he asked Peter thrice, whether he loved him, bade him also thrice feed his sheep. And God tendering the Salvation of Mankind so much as he doth, expects that all that love him and desire to be loved by him, take this business to hart. And of Eusebius he also telleth, how Am●anus won him to the like business, wishing him to take heed he loved not himself more than God, 
Eusebius.  spending his whole time and industry upon himself; for if he did truly love God, he would labour to bring many more to love him.  
10. Bu● that which he recounts of Aphraates, a very holy man, expresses best of all that which we are saying. For in the persecution which the Emperor Valens raised against the Church, 
Aphraates.  he came like a good Soldier into the field, and put himself of his own accord into the battle, leaving the wilderness, in which he had spent great part of his life. And on a time meeting the Tyrant, and being challenged by him, what he did among men, being a Monk, he answered undauntedly in these words: Tell me, o Emperor; If I were a maid retired in my closet for modesty sake, and should see my father's house all on a burning fire, were it fitting for me to sit idly beholding the flame? And if I should do so, I should also be consumed by the fire? And if thou think it commendable for such an one to run out, and carry water, & labour by all means to quench the fire; it is that which thou seest me doing: thou hast set the House of God on fire, who is most truly our Father; and I do what I can to quench it. Thus spoke Aphraates in those days; and ours are not much better, but are pestered with as much infection now brought-in by Satan, as was then by Valens. So that the Religious Orders, which now are in great number, and oppose themselves to his fury, do benefit the Church exceedingly, and deserve great commendation and honour for it.   

Religion is a perfect Commonwealth. CHAP. XXXV.  
HItherto for the most part we have discoursed of the dignity, which every Religious man purchaseth to himself by his virtue; which virtue notwithstanding Religion itself abundantly giveth occasion and means to purchase. Now we will consider, what beauty and excellency is in the whole body of Religion. For it cannot be, that God should so liberally bestow his graces upon every part thereof, 
Arist. Imi● Polit.  and leave the body neglected; the good of the whole being (as Aristotle speaketh) more divine. Therefore we will show, that Religious Orders are a most perfect Commonwealth within themselves. And I insist the rather upon it, because many ancient Philosophers having strained their wits to set down some absolute form of good, solid, and perfect government, not to the end to bring it to effect and put it in practice, but only to draw such a thing in conceit, and leave the form thereof in their writings, could never bring it to so much perfection, as we see practised in Religious Orders; but that which they discourse-of in their books, comes far short, of what by the goodness of God we possess.  
2. First therefore to every man there belongeth two kinds of life: a natural life consisting of body and soul united, and a supernatural life infused by Grace and other celestial habits; and consequently there be two sorts of Communication amongst men; one in natural, another in supernatural things; and, that which necessarily followeth, 
S. August ●. ●. D●uit. d● c. 8.  two Commonwealths. For as S. Augustin telleth us, a Commonwealth is nothing else but a company of men linked together by some common bond of society. So that the nobler and the more excellent the bond is, in which men agree (it being the ground of all Communities and Commonwealths) the more noble also and more excellent is the Community and Commonwealth; as the Commonwealth of the Romans, containing the government of the whole world, must needs be more majestical than a Commonwealth of peasants, or tradesmen, if any such be. This our Commonwealth therefore doth in this one thing far surpass all Commonwealths that ever were, or could be desired or projected by the Philosophers; because the good, which is intended in worldly Commonwealths, is earthly and humane; the good which is in ours, is Heavenly and Divine; and consequently surpasseth all other more than any man can conceive. 
Arist 3. 〈…〉 6.   
3. Another thing wherein our Commonwealth excelleth, is this. Cities, as Aristotle acknowledgeth, are not erected for people only to live in; for so (as he observeth) there might be a city of beasts, because they must live, nor only for defence against enemies, nor for traffic; because so all Confederates should make but one City. The cause therefore, why Cities are built, is, to live honestly and well in them. For if every one, that governeth himself by Reason, do th' 〈…〉 doth for some good end, a City also, which is a thing much more noble than every private man by himself, must intend that which is the best and greatest good, which is virtue and honesty. This is Aristotle's discourse. To what Commonwealth therefore (if Aristotle himself were alive to judge) doth all this agree more properly, then to Religion? the end of it being nothing but Virtue, & having so many easy ways to attain unto it; specially that being also true, 
I'd 1. Col. c. 9  which he observeth, that where Virtue is not respected and honoured above all other things, the best state that is, cannot long endure. For where shall we find one Commonwealth among those of this world, where power, and wealth, and nobility, and favour do not bear the sway? But in Religion virtue doth not only usually, but almost necessarily, rule all because they have rejected all earthly things, the glory whereof doth so much dazzle people's eyes; finding also one thing more in it, which the Philosopher in another place doth make a great matter of, to wit, that it is a rule among Religious Orders, that equality or superiority goes not by riches or blood, but by virtue; 
I'd 3 Pol. c. 6.  so that they that are equal or more eminent in virtue, are truly equal or more eminent, and not if they be equal or more eminent than others in blood or riches.  
4. Wherefore having laid this foundation, as it were a beginning of our Religious Commonwealth, let us consider the rest of the form of it, whereof there be two parts; for as the body of every living creature consisteth of the head that ruleth, and of other members that are ruled and obey, so the body of every Commonwealth hath certain members which belong unto it, to wit, every particular person of it; 
The go 〈…〉 commended.  and the head, which be the Governors and Magistrates. And to begin with that which is principal, it is no small benefit and commendation of Religious Orders, that they are governed not by many, but by one man. For whereas the greatest good that can happen to a Community, is to be united and one within itself, it is a much more effectual means to maintain this union, to have the government in one man's hand, then to have it in many; for if it were in many, to govern well they must become one by consent; as when many help to draw or carry a great weight; for they cannot carry or draw it, unless they be in some sort united, and in that union and consociation become like to that, which is truly one in itself.  
5. Which kind of government we see in Nature. For all things depend of one▪ all the members of a body are governed by the hart; all the powers of the soul, by reason; the whole world and all things in it, by one God. It is true, that in the command, which one man alone hath over others, there is this danger; lest all being in one man's hand, he turn all to his own private ends, by the strength of his power, riches, or ambition. Wherefore to the end he may govern well, he must (as S. Thomas discourseth at large in his Direction for the government of a good Prince) have God before his eyes, and endeavour to bring his subjects to the obedience, and service, and honour of God; which how hard it is in the world, and how easy and daily in practice in Religion, who is there that doth not see? For the principles, which are most apt to pervert men's thoughts and affections, and turn them from the true service of God to their private intentions (to wit, that we must establish our greatness▪ desire, to be feared; cutof the heads and causes of conspiracies; abound 〈◊〉 pleasure and plenty of earthly goods) are furthest of all from the servants of God; because in that poor estate, there is no ground of wealth or pleasure, whereupon to build the desire of these things.  

Governors in Religion have nothing particular, but thei●●●thoritie.  6. And moreover it is no small help, that they that govern in Religion, have nothing more than the rest, but their authority; they have neither state, not palace, nor attendance, nor servants, as Secular Magistrates have, which are wont both to feed and inflame ambition, and make it swell; and ambition brings with it all corruption of Government. chose the humility of the state of Religion, which the Governors themselves always retain, put; them in mind, that they are but like others that are under them▪ and that, which S. Gregory admonisheth, 
S Greg 2. Post. c. ●.  is practised among them: They who govern, consider not in themselves the power of order, but the equality of their condition; to the end they may not rejoice in being over men, but in being beneficial unto them.  

Governors by 〈◊〉.  7. And in this kind our Commonwealths have the advantage of most others, because that, which Aristotle esteemeth best in a Commonwealth, is observed in them; 
Arist 2. 〈…〉 pol. ●. 1●.  to wit, that the Governors succeed not by birth and descent, but by election, being chosen thereunto by weight of their life, and behaviour, and wisdom. For they that come to their Government by inheritance, falling upon their charge as it were by chance, whatsoever they be, they must be tolerated; by which means many Cities have come to great mischief, the governors undoing themselves and others, through rashness, and want of skill. The government of Religion is free from this inconvenience; because it descends not by right upon any man, but is given by Voices, or by other lawful power. And whereas in other Commonwealths there is danger in the Voices, because Offices and Promotions not being conferred but upon them that pretend and labour for them, commonly he that presseth most, and sometimes he that giveth most money, and maketh most friends, goeth away with it: In Religion it is far otherwise; for Offices are rather cast upon them; that decline and refuse them. Wherein, seeing Aristotle himself doth directly affirm that they who pretend, are even for that reason less worthy, in regard they show themselves to be ambitious and desirous of honour, 
2. P●l c. 7.  and such people do many unjust acts, what is it fit for us to think?  
8. The same Philosopher doth give this pertinent advice also, that the power of them that govern, 
●. Pol c 11.  must be on the one side so large, that they must have more than any one particular man; 
Adu●● for Governors.  and yet so limited, as they must have less than all of them together; which we scarce see observed in any worldly Commonwealth. For he that once gets to the stern, doth presently so strengthen himself, that ever after he curbs the people at his pleasure, and doth with them what he list. In Religion the form of government requireth, that as they receive their power from their Order, so it is stinted and limited by the Order, and may also be taken wholly from them.  
9 Finally, not to spine-out this discourse too long, let us see what doth chiefly belong to the duty of a Governor, 
1. P●l. ●.  in the opinion of this Philosopher. He placeth it in that he make account, 
〈…〉 are 〈…〉.  that he is servant to all his subjects, and bend all his actions and thoughts, to the benefitting of them. This, saith he, was at first the resolution of every good King; but fell to be corrupted, merely by the commodities which accompany that place. This which Aristotle therefore saith was anciently in use, and grew afterwards to be otherwise, we findest● in practice in Religion. For the Governors do wait upon the benefit of their subjects, as servants upon their masters, principally taking care for their souls▪ and being also careful of that which belongeth to the body; when the subjects are at rest, & know not how or which way they are provided of necessary food and sustenance, the governor's watch and labour for them, and every one in particular taking no thought at all for himself, they are constrained to be solicitous for al. What is slavery, if this be not? By which means they are also ●ree from the danger, which is in Kingdoms and Empires, lest the commodities which attend upon them, overthrow Religious discipline, because the Poverty, which Religious men profess, excludeth all these commodities, & bringeth many incommodities with it, & consequently excludeth all envy and ambition.  
10. And so much for the head, If we compare the members one with another, two things concur to the beauty and dignity of Religious Commonwealths. First a great equality of unequal members, secondly, as perfect communication of allthings among them, as can be. For as a City, which hath not several States and Degrees of the Nobility, and meaner, and middle sort, of tradesmen, and others, is but poorly provided, and never able to subsist▪ and yet if this variety be not bound and linked together by participation in diverse things, it would be in great confusion, because it could not be any ways One, but, as Aristotle speaketh, 
Arist. 3. Pol. c. 3.  full of many enemies of the Commonwealth. In Religious communities the selfsame is full as necessary; and they enjoy both these perfections without the incommodities opposite unto them.  
11. For fi●st, 
Diversity of Talents.  there is an inequality and difference among them in their natural dispositions and inclinations, in their studies and knowledge, in their wit & capacity, and other abilities of their mind and understanding; as in all other things that are rightly ordered, there is ever some difference and distinction. In the heavens, some stars are bigger or lesser than other some; in this inferior world, all the beasts of the earth are not of like bigness, or strength, or quickness; the members of the selfsame body have a difference in the honour and beneficialnes of them; and that great Householder hath not divided his Talents equally among all men, but to some he hath given one; to some, two; to some, five; which kind of disparity in Religion, as it is altogether necessary and very useful, so doubtless (if we consider it well) it cannot choose but be a great ornament unto it.  
12. And to the end it may be no occasion of breach of unity and concord, 
No breach of unity among Religious.  it is tempered with such admirable equality among them, that there cannot be any thing more like and equal one with another, than people that live in Religion. They go clothed alike, and all wear one kind of Habit, their lodging and diet is alike, and every thing else that is outward to the eye; but much more that which is inward, agreeing in love, & participation of good works among them, of which I have spoken at large before, and having benefit by what soever good is in the particular Religion of which they are, and in all other Religious Orders beside. These are the solid comforts of a Religious life, wherein there is no difference betwixt the learned and the unlearned, betwixt the wisest and the ignorantest man among them. 
S. Aug ●. Civit. c. 2●.   
13. Why therefore may we not say of them, s S. Augustin said of a City well governed, 
Similitudes of concord.  that they are all like a consort of Music, where diverse Notes combined together make a melodious harmony? For what City can challenge this property with more right than Religion, where there is such variety of persons, linked together with such concord and discord, & proportionable disproportion. For if the connexion of natural things is beautiful and admirable, by reason of the dependency, which they have of one another in their motions, from the first to the last, finding the like connexion in things that are governed with reason, it must needs be the more beautiful and decent, the more perfect and noble the nature of them is; and consequently, if the disposition and order of those inferior things, breed delight in whosoever doth behold them, these must needs breed much more in practising the like order and connexion. So that whereas the Pythagorians imagined a kind of Harmony in the Celestial Orbs, by reason that their motions so well ordered, & so constantly observing the selfsame course and distance, doth express a kind of Musical consent equally various; Religious Orders do so lively represent the same, that if we lend the cares of our mind unto them, we cannot but perceive a most heavenly consort.  
14. Finally, the perfect communication of all inward and outward things, which I mentioned before, no body drawing any thing from the rest to his own particular, is an exceeding grace and ornament to this Religious Commonwealth. Plato, 
Plato dial. 5. de Rep. john Chrysostom●●ll●. ●●. all p. p.  that great Philosopher, did so highly esteem this one point, that it was the main thing which he required in the Commonwealth, which he went about to frame, as I said before; but it never could be brought to pass in any Community, but in Religion. S. john Chrysostome doth highly commend Religious people for it, because their houses are free from Mine and Thine, which two words (saith he) have been the undoing of mankind. And it is in itself of great consequence; not only because it is an evident sign of Union and charity, but moreover preserveth and nourisheth it, and cutteth-of all matter of dissension, which the desire of particular things, which every body cannot enjoy, is apt to breed. And besides this communication▪ there be so many other means and ways, to breed and establish perfect concord and union among them, that, as I said elsewhere out of S. Augustin, they are one soul, and one hart; many bodies, but not many hearts. They that wait, & those that are waited on (saith S. john Chrysostome) sit at one board, 
S. john Chrysost●me R●m. 58.  and are served alike; they are clothed, & lodged alike, lead the same kind of life There is not poverty and riches, honour & contemptiblenes. There be little & great among them, according to the measure of every one's virtue; but no man sees that. He that is little, is not grieved, as if he were slighted; nor is there any man, that slights him.  
15. Deservedly therefore doth the Prophet David reckon this among the wonderful works of God, that he maketh people of one fashion to dwell in a house; that is, so loving and united together, as if many were but one. And our Lord himself speaketh of it by the Prophet Sophonias, 
Soph. 5 9  as of a promise of great account: I will restore to the people a chosen lip, ●●at all may call in the name of our Lord, & serve him with one shoulder. Where the nature of a Religious state is described unto us, consisting in two things, to wit, in worshipping, and praying, & calling upon God, expressed by the word Lip, and a ch●sen l●p; and in brotherlike love and union, all concurring with 〈◊〉 strength, and making as it were one shoulder, by which means, if there be any burden in this service of God, it is the lighter to every particular, and felt the less by them.   

How much honour Religious Orders have done to the Church of God. CHAP. XXXVI.  
A City placed upon a hill, cannot be h●dden; and they light not a candle, and put it under a bushel, 
Matt. 5.  but upon a candlestick, that it may give light to all that be in the hous●. Virtue hath this property, that it bewrayeth itself by the light which it hath, no less than any other light; and the more perfect it is, the more it doth shine abroad. Which if it be true in every particular man that is virtuous, how much more true is it, when many virtuous men join together, and make one Corporation and city? We may justly therefore say, that Religion is a City placed upon a hill, both because it is compounded of several persons as a City is, whereof we have spoken already at large in the precedent Chapter; and it is seated in an eminent and lofty situation, to wit, in in the top of Euangelical Perfection, which all, that have not arrived to so high a pitch, but remain in an inferior estate, must needs admire, and lift-up their eyes, as to people that are above them. And consequently the City itself being so noble, and seated moreover upon a hill, so that it cannot be hidden, but must needs be in the eye of every body, all the glory, and commendation, and worth, which it hath, must also redound to the glory and commendation of the whole Church, whereof it is a part. For which consideration S. Gregory Nazianzen calleth Religious people, the first fruits of our saviour's ●lock, 
S. Gregory N●zian. ●●. 2. in jul.  pillars, and crowns of Faith, and pre●ious margarits. And S. Hierome: Certainly the Order of Monks, and Virgins, is the slower, and as it were a precious stone among the ornaments of the Church. He saith a Religious course is both a Flower, 
S. Hier. ●p. 17.  and a Precious stone, declaring in the one the beauty of that state, and in the other, the great esteem and value, which is moreover to be made of it, and the holy Church partaketh of them both. For the dignity and beauty of this life doth both exceedingly comfort, and delight, and encourage the Faithful, and confound the Adversaries thereof. Insomuch that that great Champion of the Catholic Faith S. Augustin, in the book which he wrote of the Manners of the Church, among other arguments, which he brings to disprove the errors of the Manichees, against whom he penned that Treatise, he insisteth mainly upon this▪ that in the Church, there shall be such multitudes both of heremites leading a solitary life, and Monks living in common together; and describing their manner of conversation at large, at last he concludeth, as it were, braving the Manichees in these words: 
S. August. de mori●u● Eccl. 3.34.  Oppose yourselves, if you can, you Manichees, against these; behold them well, and name them if you dare without lying, and with shame enough. Compare their fasting with your fasting, chastity with chastity, clothing with clothing, sare with fare, modesty with modesty, charity with charity, and, that which in po●teth most, orders with orders.  
2. S. Laurence justinian, 
S. Laurence Iust. de Obed. c. 1●.  a man renowned for learning and sanctity, handleth this selfsame subject yet more copiously, and deserveth to have his whole discourse set down at large. He saith thus: Among other things which advance the glory of God, and make Infidels have a good esteem of the Catholic Faith, is the living of the Faithful in common together; and specially the life of them, that contemning the vanities of this transitory world, and abandoning the pleasures of the flesh, and promises of wealth and honour, dedicate themselves to God in the Cloisters of Monasteries by perpetual vow of a voluntary servitude. 
Description of a Religious life.  For who can do otherwise but praise and extol the Divine goodness, and wisdom unspeakable, beholding innumerable people of both sexes in the flower of their youth, in perfect health, and proportion of their body, swimming in abundance of earthly substance, happy in the possession of lands, and vineyards, and houses, and servants, and honoured with many noble friends and kinsfolk, willingly to renounce the world, and spurn at the pride thereof, to forsake all their kindred, and to put themselves into the service of our Saviour Christ, by exercise of obedience, under the conduct of a man that in a manner is a stranger unto them? For this certainly is beyond that, which men ordinarily do, and beyond the common fashion of living. For the natural affection which we have as children, doth not suffer us to contemn them that begot us, & brought us into the visible light of this world. The law, I say, which is naturally inbred in the hearts of men, doth not persuade us to leave our own city, all our kindred, all our playfellows, all our friends and acquaintance; and to go dwell with strangers, to travel into far countries, cities, and villages, not for a year, or two, or three, but all our life-time; & of our own free choice to suffer hunger and thirst, cold and nakedness, to punish our bodies also with watching, and fasting, and other labours, to bring it under with daily abstinences, and, that which is greater than all this, to fight against the inclinations of ou● own wil For nature itself enticeth, custom teacheth, humane frailty urgeth, love of good company draweth, common courtesy persuadeth, and the swe●● conversation of people at home, and specially of our kindred, doth compele●●rie body, that hath any spark of reason, to keep where he was borne, to enjoy the company of his kindred, to take care of his own possessions, and take his pleasure in them, and to follow the inclinations of his own wil But when we see the quite contrary acted, it proceedeth either out of fear of death, or certain knowledge of the fickleness and falsehood of the world, or out of an assured and strong hope of future happiness; which hope we cannot taste of, but by the light of Faith, which is given us before. And we come not to the possession of this Faith, of which we speak, by our own free will, but by the gift of God, who hath mercy on us, and draweth us, and preserveth us. The glorious Martyrs enlightened with the splendour of this Faith, have with most ardent charity endured for Christ, fire, imprisonment, chains, stripes, torments, reproaches, exile, loss of goods, and death. The holy Anchorets', endued with the cleernes of this Faith, have filled the deserts, walked the wildernesses, builded Monasteries, therein to attend to the glorifying of God, to give themselves to often prayer, to labour with their hands at convenient times, and to assemble together the children of God dispersed every where abroad, and to overcome the secret attempts of their invisible enemies. Inspired certainly by God, they understood that this world is full of concupiscence of the flesh, allurements of the eyes, and other pleasures, and of pride of life. They saw that men did daily cast themselves headlong upon vice, neglect the Law of God, contemn his commandments, follow the pleasures of present delight, and give themselves wholly to earthly lucre, transitory honour, hurtful dishonesty, and secular cares, which make the lovers of them strangers to God & to themselves, and breed an aversion from all virtue. For, light and darkness, vanity and truth, virtue and vice, the love of God and of the world, the works of the flesh and of the spirit, the joys of this life and of the life to come, cannot meet in one, nor stand together. Wherefore to the end they might do God the service, which is due unto him, and curb the passions of vice, which continually boyle-up from the sting of sin and itching flesh, and bridle their own will, from which every beginning of sin doth receive nourishment, for the love of Christ they have delivered themselves over into such prisons. By these laudable intentions, by this manner of living, our holy Mother the Church is glorified. For even in these times, in which we see iniquity abound, and the charity of many to grow cold, there want not some, who tread the footsteps of the holy Fathers, though not with so great fervour of charity, as they. For there be sundry Congregations of the servants of God, which though they be in their habits different, different in their constitutions and ceremonies, yet labour with one and the same intention of glorifying God, and gaining their Neighbour, and for the same end of coming to their Heavenly country. O how many of both Sexes, in this great multitude of servants of Christ diffused everywhere almost throughout the whole world, are eminent for sanctity? How many fatten themselves with singular devotion, and continual prayer? How many are conspicuous for heroical virtue? Some are rare for humility, others for constant patience, others for purity of mind, others for zeal of righteousness, others for the love of God and their Neighbour, others for their singular pre-eminence in Religious conversation. Al of them labour without envying one another, without pride of hart, according to the measure of Faith, and of the Grace, which is given them, to please God, to profit daily, and to heape-up gains of the Talents, which are lent them.  
3. Thus far S. justinian; wherein he hath discoursed so largely, and so eloquently, that we shall not need to say any more of this point, but only agreeable to the sense of these holy Fathers, apply the saying of the holy-ghost to Religious people, 
Ps 42.  where he saith by his Prophet: I have framed this people for myself; they shall recount my praise. For who hath framed this people brought from a far-off, as there it is said, and gathered together from the utmost bounds of the earth, but God, who commandeth light to shine from darkness? And to what purpose is it framed, but to recount his praise? This is the business of Religious people, not only because they sing and proclaim his praises with their mouth, and speak of his glory to all men, but they recount them by their very life and conversation. For as a curious picture, or whatsoever excellent piece of workmanship, doth silently tell us, how rare the workman is and lays his worth before our eyes, & persuades more evidently and certainly of it, than any man's speech can do: so these kind of Religious Institutes, of which God only can be the Author, do most clearly and certainly lay down before us, his infinite wisdom and goodness.   

Of the honour, which is done to Religious people, even in this life. CHAP. XXXVII.  
OUR Lord spoke a word by his Prophet, which he hath always made good: Whosoever shall honour me, I will glorify him; and they that contemn me, shall be ignoble. Religious people therefore employing themselves so wholly in seeking the glory of God, 
1. Reg. 2.  that it is their whole endeavour to humble and abase themselves to that end, we may with reason think, that the Divine goodness hath also had a particular care to honour this state of life, and to give it such beauty and grace, as should be admirable even in the eyes of men. For the promise, 
Pr●u 14.  which we read in the Proverbs of the fruit of Wisdom, was to be fulfilled in them: Take it, and it will exalt the●; thou shalt be glorified by it; when t●●u shalt have embraced it, 
S B●sil 〈…〉. A●●e●.  it will give to thy head an addition of graces, and protect thee with a noble crown. S. Basil, among other reasons, which he bringeth to move pe●ple to Religious courses, doth not stick to use this: that they, that enter into Religion, shall be glorious even upon earth; their friends will make great account of them, and use their help and intercession in their behalf, and furnish them with necessaries, is valiant soldiers, & invite them home to their houses, and entertain them joyfully as Angels of God, 
●al. 4.  and (as the Apostle speaketh) as CHRIST himself.  

Arist. 4. Eth 3.  2. And if we consider the nature of the thing itself, we shall ●ind, that it is in a manner necessary, it should be so. For first Aristotle saith truly, that the true ground of honour, is goodness; and the greater the goodness is, the greater honour is due unto it; 
Virtue is only wor●hie to 〈◊〉 honoured.  and consequently Virtue is the only thing, which with reason we can think to be worthy of honour; and in like manner, they that have virtue. People that are noble and rich in the world, and have great power, have but an outward kind of worth and excellency, in comparison of them, that have virtue; but the reason, why they are vulgarly more honoured, is, because the vulgar sort of people make account, that there is no other good, but these exterior things. This is Aristotle's discourse; whereof it followeth, that not only the wiser sort, but the vulgar also, if they have any conceit▪ what true Virtue is, must needs honour it far more, than any outward thing; and consequently, if Virtue be so plain and conspicuous, that every body must needs see it, they cannot but bear great respect unto it, and beh●ld it with great veneration. Religious perfection is of this nature. For it is an eminent state of life, severed from the ordinary courses which people take, and full of those orders and practices, which must necessarily be admirable to the beholder's. For the greater part of the world being so much carried away with the love and desire of honour, and wealth, and pleasure, and other 〈…〉 commodity's, they cannot but admire those, that they behold so high-flowne above them, that they do not only not seek after earthly things, but contemn and despise them. Which contempt is not secret in the mind and hart only, but is to be seen in their very habit and whole course of life; so that every ordinary man must needs discover it, and needs no great reflection to make him in love with it.  
3. Secondly, 
〈◊〉 to God, makes them respected.  the near relation which they have to God, being consecrated to him, and dealing familiarly with him, as his domestical servants, or rather friends, doth naturally breed a great veneration towards them. In so much that we see, that it hath always been the custom, not only among Christians, but among Infidels, and those that have not had the true knowledge of God, to deal with more respect with them, that have particularly devoted themselves to the service of God, then with any others. For as there is no nation so barbarous, but doth in some sort acknowledge, that there is a Sovereign Nature so powerful, that all good things are to be asked of it, and punishment expected for offences committed, in which respect they worship that Nature with particularities and ceremonies, so there is no body, that doth not think, that they are particularly to be respected and reverenced, that have particular relation to that Nature; and so we see the practice of all Antiquity. For, as we read in Genesis, 
Gen. 47.  it was a custom in Egypt, that the Priests should be maintained at the common charge which was the reason, why their possessions were not taxed, nor seized in that dearth. And at Rome not only the Priests, but the Soothsayers, and diverse other inferior Sacrificers, were in so great veneration, that those Offices being in the gift of the people, they were sought after and conferred with great concourse and emulation; and it was held to be so worthy and magnifical a function to Sacrifice, that when the Kings were put down, and the name of a King was so odious among them, that nothing more, it remained notwithstanding to the Priest without envy or distaste. 
People 〈…〉 God, 〈◊〉 among all Nations.  And we read that the Priest of jupiter bore such sway, that people flocked unto him, as to a Sanctuary. For if a prisoner fell at his feet, he was instantly released; and if he were guilty, he was pardoned. The Vassal Virgins (which among them were as our Nuns are among us) were held to be so holy, that no body must touch them, and they had two Sergeants went always before them; and if by chance they had met any man that had been going to execution, he was presently set at liberty. And to speak of these our days; what honour and power do not the japonians yield to their Bonz●; who imitating every thing, which our Monks profess (but Chastity and virtuous behaviour) their habit, and singing, and living in common, and the like, are reported to be in so great veneration, that they are like earthly Gods among them; they rule in a manner all, and oftimes give and take away Kingdoms at their pleasure. And to conclude, it is most certain, that all that ever have acknowledged any Divine Nature (as all have done) have also borne particular respect to them, that have dedicated and consecrated themselves to this Nature; and this opinion is bred not by persuasion of others, or by law, or statute, but by the light of Nature, without any teaching or instructing; which general consent of all nations in whatsoever it be, is to be accounted the voice of Nature itself.  
4. Wherefore, if not only the foolish but wicked Superstition and belief of false Gods was anciently, and is yet so powerful in this kind, certainly the true Religion, and worship of the true and Sovereign God, must needs be much more powerful. For the greater knowledge and esteem Christians have now of the great Majesty of God, more than the Infidels had of their false Gods, cannot but breed also a greater veneration of them, that are near to so great a God.  

S Dominick 〈…〉 in his lifetimes  5. We read of S. Dominick, that the more he did humble himself, the more every body, even Cardinals and the Pope himself, did respect him; and the common people did honour him so much, that they thought themselves happy, if they could but come to speak with him, or touch his garment; and every body did cutof pieces of his garment, and kept them for relics, so that his upper weed was always cutof by the knees. And when his Friars, to ease him of that trouble, would hinder the people, from so continually pulling him by the coa●e, he bade them let them alone, saying: they must satisfy their devotion.  

S Francis.  6. When S. Francis happened to come into any town, people thronged so thick about him, that he was in danger sometimes to be oppressed; and once he stood still, and gave every body, that would, his hand and his garment to kiss. His companion admiring at it, asked, when he was private with him, what he meant to do so. S. Francis answered him; Know, Brother, that they have not done me the hundredth part of the honour, which is due unto me. Which answer troubling him more than before, he gave him this reason: Because (said he) people honour not me, but God in me, who gave me all the good and all the Religion that is in me. And it is not the vulgar only that honour Religious people, but great Princes and Monarchs', as Constantine honoured S. Antony, the Emperor Otho S. Romualdus, coming to see him in his celle, and vouchsafing, as great a man as he was, to take a lodging upon his hard couch.  

S. Maurus.  7. When S. Maurus was sent into France by S. Benedict, Florus who was the greatest Favourite, King Theodobert had, presented his son and all his wealth unto him; 
A rare example of piety.  and afterwards betook himself also to his Monastery, to the astonishment of all France. And King Theodobert himself went some day's journey to visit that new company of Christ's Soldiers; and when he can●t thither, and had made an end of his devotions in the Church, going into the Monastery, he cast himself upon the store before the Monks, laying his purple Rolls and his Royal Majesty under the feet of poor beggarlike men; & beseeching they would vouchsafe to admit him into their Company (for so were his words) and enroll his name among theirs; and bestowing many rich presents of gold and silver for their Church ornaments, he departed, thinking that God had done him a singular favour in suffering him to see and converse with those servants of his.  
8. And of later years, in the same Kingdom, when Lewis the Eleventh by much entreaty, assisted by Pope Sixtus the Fourth his command, got S. Franc●s of Paula to come unto him from the furthest parts of Calabria, 
 how lovingly and respectfully did he entertain him? how much joy did the whole Court and Kingdom of France express at the coming of so poor and contemptible a man? So that it was apparent in him, that the excellency of a Religious life, doth oftimes (as S. Chrysostome discourseth) make people that are borne obscurely and meanly in the world, 
S john Chrysostome 〈◊〉 vinup▪ v●. Mo.  and had remained in obscurity if they had not forsaken the world, by change of their state of life become honourable in the sight of them, that before did account them base.  
9 S. Arsenius was schoolmaster to Arcadius' son to the Emperor Theodosius, 
S Arsenius.  and was so far out of his favour, that he was fain to fly, because he understood that Arcadius had plotted his death. But many years after, when it was known that he had betaken himself to the service of God in the wilderness, Arcadius then Emperor writ an humble letter unto him, commending himself and his Empire to his prayers. Arsenius certainly was neither more learned, nor more noble than he was before; rather all the credit and renown which he had gotten in the world, was now forgotten. How then came he to this new honour, but by the Religious course which he did profess?  
10. We might bring many other ancient and modern examples to the same purpose; but to be brief, we will conclude this whole discourse with a notable testimony of Cassian, 
Cass. Col. v●t. cap. ult.  who saith, that the promise which our Saviour made of an Hundred-fold, is fulfilled in the reward of the present honour, which Religious people have in this life. These are his words: Do not they, I pray you, that serve our Saviour faithfully, most manifestly come by that Hundredfold grace by this, that for his name's sake they are honoured by great Princes? And though they seek not after humane glory, yet they are venerable, even in the afflictions of persecution, to all judges and people in authority, though otherwise their meannes might have been perhaps contemptible even to people of inferior condition, by reason of the baseness of their birth or servile condition, if they had remained in the world? Which we may evidently prove by the example of Abbot john, who resideth in the wilderness which bordereth upon the town called Lycus. For being borne of very mean parentage, he is grown so admirable to almost the whole world for Christ his sake, that the Lords of this world (who by reason of their government are terrible) even to Kings and Princes, do honour him as their Master; and craving answer from him from country's afarre-of do commend the state of their Empire, their safeguard, and the events of wars, to his merits and prayers. Thus saith Cassian. To which we may add, that this is the truest and greatest honour of all the honours which are given in this life to men. For when others are honoured in regard of their power, or their wealth and riches, the honour is not so much given to them, as to their riches or their power, in regard of some commodity or reward, which people hope from them. But in a Religious state, where there is none of all this, certainly whatsoever respect is done them, cometh wholly from the beauty and virtue of the State itself. In which kind there happened a remarkable thing to john Becanus a Franciscan-friar, 
john Becanus.  as we read in their Chronicles. He was held to be the learnedst man of his time; and reading a public Lecture of Divinity in the Pope's palace, every body had such an opinion of his learning, that besides others of all sorts that came unto him, many Bishops and Cardinals resorted to hear him; and they were wont to rise-up and stand bare, as he passed through the school to his Chair. It happened that he was made Archbishop of Canterbury, and continued notwithstanding his Reading; and then none of the Cardinals would stir for him, because before (they said) they honoured Virtue in him, wherein they acknowledged themselves to be his inferiors; but now they might be thought to honour him in respect of his dignity, wherein they were above him. 
True honour in Virtue.   
11. True honour therefore is that, which is grounded in Virtue, and in the State itself; and this is the best and solidest foundation. For if Religious people suffer sometimes by slanderous and reproachful reports and speeches, it is but seldom, and happeneth not only by malice of the Devil, that opposeth them but by permission of God to exercise our virtue, to increase our crown, to make us conformable to his Son, who foretold his Disciples as much, and in his Disciples all others: 
Io. 15.  If they have persecuted me, they will persecute you; and giveth this reason: because the servant is not greater than his master; as who would say, he that will be my true Disciple, and true servant, must undergo the like.  
12. Wherein we may behold the wonderful wisdom of God, and his providence over us, disposing so, that whereas the excellency of this state is apparent to most men, and honoured by them as it deserveth, he would not but that there should be some, who should not see it, but be cross sometimes to Religious people, to the end we and others might benefit ourselves by it. For if all should set Religious people at naught, no body could have any benefit by us; if all should love and cherish us, it would also turn to our great prejudice. In the one therefore God had an eye to our good, in the other to the good of our neighbour; and tempereth both so, that our life (according to the saying of the Apostle) might ma●ch, as it were, by certain steps and degrees, by glory and ignobility, by in●ainte & good report, & we ourselves as unknown, and yet known; a● seducers, and yet people of truth. And yet though we ought to be thus armed on the right hand, and on the left, that, which we have saved and proved, remaineth undoubted, that even the world doth honour this State above Kingdoms and Empires. 
A notable saying of S. Lewis.  Lewis son to King Charles of France understood it well, whom we mentioned before. For abandoning the inheritance of so rich a kingdom, and entering among the Franciscan-Friars, as ●e had much and long desired, one of the Friars of the same Order coming unto him to congratulate him, among other things, said, that he had that day highly honoured the Order by his entering into it; but Lewis replied: Yea rather, I am this day more honoured by this Habit.   
The end of the Second Book.   

THE THIRD BOOK, OF THE HAPPINESS OF A RELIGIOUS STATE.  

THE PREFACE. Of the pleasantness of a Religious course of life; and the impediments, which are wont to occur therein, by example of the Children of Israel going out of Egypt.  
IN the delivery of the jews from the Servitude of Egypt, and their long and laboursome peregrination to the desired Land of Promise, God anciently showed us a perfect pattern of the whole course of a Religious vocation; and this our happy state is so natively expressed, and as it were drawn to life, by that admirable and famous work of all the works, which God wrought for the benefit of that people, that so far as carnal things can express the spiritual, & outward things, which are far inferior, declare the inward, it could not have been set forth in more natural of lively colours Which diverse of the holy Fathers, and particularly S Bernard doth observe in one of his Sermons, 
S. Bernard ser. 39 in Can●.  discoursing of this whole mystery, as if all things had happened to them in a figure and shadow, & the fruit & substance had been wholly communicated to us. There, saith he, the people was brought out of Egypt, here a man is drawn out of the World; There Pharaoh, here the Devil, is vaquished; there Pharaoh his chariots are overturned, here carnal & secular desires, which war against the soul, are overthrown; they in the, waves, these in tears; they are brackish, these are bitter; and I verily think, that when the Devils happen upon such a soul, they cry out: Let ●●fly Israel; because God fighteth for th●m. Thus saith S. Bernard, and much more to the same purpose.  
2 Let us therefore, following so good a leader, acknowledge (according to the grace which is given us) in this benefit bestowed upon the jews, as in a picture, a far greater benefit bestowed upon ourselves. For if in the clear light, wherein by the goodness of God we now are, 
To serve the world, is a cruel slavery.  we behold the Secular state, in which formerly we lived; what was it but a servitude? And in very deed a far more hard and cruel servitude, then that of Pharaoh; because it was not our body that was held captive, wherein people apprehend so much misery, but it was our soul, which was in captivity, the thraldom whereof is much more to be lamented. Besides that, for one man to be a slave to another man, is not so very dishonourable; but nothing can be more base, then to be a slave to Sin and the Devil; nothing more vain, then to serve the World. The vileness, together with the trouble and tediousness, of the works, which we were forced to undergo under so severe a command, will lay it more plainly before our eyes. For what was our daily occupation in the world, but to work, as they did, in base and servile businesses, in dirt, in gathering straw, in making bricks? For when people bestow their whole time and all their labours and thoughts, as the fashion is, in heaping of honours and riches, they handle nothing day and night, but earth; their hearts, their thoughts, their cares are set upon nothing but earth; because all these are earthly things, and indeed nothing else but earth. And there wanted not in the world cruel extortioners, to wit, our disordered desires with a hard hand continually calling upon us, and pressing us, and compelling us to double our labours, and to undertake more than 〈◊〉 were able to wealde, and affording us no rest nor respite; so that in effect we did then lead a most miserable life, not only full of trouble and pressure, as the word Egypt doth signify, but a base and 〈…〉 kind of life, otherwise then people ordinarily take it to be, out of the foolish conceit which they have; because it did involve so vile and so abject a kind of slavery, as I said.  

The enemy's endeavour against good resolutions  3. Out of which servitude if by Divine instinct a man go about to withdraw himself, with what fierceness, with what fury doth the cruel Pharaoh, the World, and, he that domineereth in the world, the Devil, set upon him? Then, as it were, beating his drum, and sounding his trumpet, he makes all the forces he can to cut of those wholesome thoughts, or to divert them. On the one side he ranks the pleasures and commodities of this world, the sweetness of liberty, the hope of preferment, the greatness which worldly wealth brings a man unto, the love of his kindred; and with these he bids him battle: On the other side, he lays before him the austerities of a Religious life, the incommodities of Poverty, the trouble of Obedience, and twenty such considerations, which are apt and able to fright a man. And if these inward assaults, which he makes, have not the effect which he desireth, he betakes himself to his outward engines; he stirres-up friends to give him evil counsel, he tempts his companions to laugh at him, he oftimes makes use of the power of great men, by force to withdraw him. Among all which devilish devices, none are usually so full of venom as when he laboureth to make us stoop to the authority of a father commanding us, or of a tender weeping mother beseeching us, or of our brethren and kinsfolks entreating us. These be the horsemen and chariots, with which the Enemy of mankind doth pursue them, that 〈◊〉 from him.  

God sighteth for them, that desire to betake themselves unto him.  4. On the other side, our Lord and God, who calleth us out of Egypt to offer a perpetual Sacrifice unto him in the Desert, doth fight for us, as if the cause were not ours, but his own; and doth not only break the wicked encounters of the Devil, and bewray his treacheries, but commonly doth lay most grievous punishments upon all such, as adventure to be his instruments in so wicked an enterprise, as he dealt with King Pharaoh; and we shall scarce find any one sin so severely and so presently punished, as this; and not without great reason. For what greater wrong can a man offer God, then to ta●e away his spouse from him, to profane his temple, to raze and demolish the workmanship, of which he maketh greatest account? what greater damage can a 〈◊〉 do his neighbour? or what hath a man more precious wherein to suffer? So that S. Hierome writing to ●usto●h●um (who had shutup herself in the famous Monastery of the City of B●thl●●m) said both sagely and truly: 
S. Hierome Ep. 22.  Our Lord hath delivered thee from the cares of this world, that forsaking the straws and bricks of Egypt, thou mayst follow Moses in the Desert, and enter into the Land of Promise. Let nobody hinder thee, neither mother nor sister, nor cousin nor brother; and if they attempt to hinder thee, let them fear the scourges of Pharaoh, who, because he would not let the people of God go to worship God, suffered those things, which are written. But God is not only quick in punishing those that do oppose, but much more ready to assist the Religious themselves, and to bring them out with a powerful hand and a mighty arm; and if need be, he divides the sea before them, he dries-up the waves, and breaking through all impediments, he brings them out of Egypt, singing, that is, joyful, and with a light hart, and giving thanks to him, that cast the horse and rider into the sea. This is that joyful Canticle, which S. Bernard describeth, 
S. Bernard serm. 3. in Cant.  speaking to his Brethren in these words: Reflect upon that, which yourselves have experienced in the victory, wherein your faith hath overcome the world; in the going out of the lake of misery, and of the dregs of dirt, you have also sung a new Canticle to our Lord, who hath wrought wonders. Again, when he first gave you to settle your feet upon the rock, and directed your steps. I imagine, that then also for the newness of life bestowed upon you, a new Canticle was put into your mouth, a Song unto our Lord.  
5. S. Gregory discoursing of the Plagues of Egypt, and the Benefits bestowed upon the Children of Israel, doth particularly ponder, that the Egyptians were punished with a multitude of flies, 
S. Greg. 18. 〈◊〉. 2.  the Children of Israel rewarded with the Rest of the Sabbath, because, 〈◊〉, the people, which followeth God, receiveth a Sabbath, that is, tranquillity of mind, 〈…〉 any more in this life, with the motions of carnal desires. But Egypt 〈…〉 of this world, is punished with flies; for a fly is an insolent and unquiet 〈…〉 else doth it signify, but the intemperate cares of the selfsame desires of 〈…〉▪  
6 When the Children of Israel were gone out of Egypt, there remained two things. A 〈◊〉, and the Land of Promise. Both signify Religion; the Desert, the beginnings▪ the Land of Promise, the proceedings and perfection thereof, when a Soul cultivated and manured by Rule and order, 
Religion a Desert.  enjoyeth with time the plentiful fruit of so happy a course. Religion is a Desert, because it severs a man from company and conversation with Secular people, and withdraws him from all worldly businesses, leading him into a place, where the trouble and noise of this turbulent world is not so much as heard of. 
job 3.14.  These be the Deserts, which those Consuls of the earth (of whom job speaketh) do build for themselves; 
S. Greg. 4. Mor. 28.  which S. Gregory construeth to be nothing else, but to expel the turbulency of earthly desires from the closet of our hart, & aiming only at our eternal Country, to pant with love of that inward quiet. But what comfort, what joy doth a man find in this Desert, howsoever in outward show it seem uncouth and distasteful? For as, when the jews suffered thirst, the very rocks furnished them with water; 
Exod 17 6. Exod. 15.25.  and when the waters fell to be bitter, they presently turned to be sweet by putting a piece of wood into them; so whatsoever difficulty or trouble may occur in a Religious life, it vanisheth instantly, a man knows not how, and is so tempered and seasoned by the power of God, that it is not felt; insomuch as fasting, and watching, and (that which is more hard than all this) the continual striving to break our own will, and whatsoever belongs to Religious discipline (which when a man looks afarre-of upon it, seems so harsh and heavy, that the very sight of it doth make people afraid) when we come to act, it proves pleasant and delightful; and no labour is so hard, not so much above the strain of humane strength, 
Philip 4 13.  but, by the grace and help of God, it becomes easy and facile, and, as the Apostle speaketh, we can do all things in him, that comforteth us.  
7. And the Divine bounty & goodness is not contented barely to wipe away the bitterness of this state, 
The spiritual dainties, which are in Religion.  but seasons it moreover with a great deal of sweetness, in several kinds, very proper and peculiar unto it, figured also in that, which happened to the people of Israël. For God sent them quails, without any labour of theirs, brought unto them with a blast of wind, in such infinite numbers, that all the country roundabout was full of them; and, that which is more wonderful, he rained Manna from heaven, a food made by the hands of Angels. This doth apparently set before our eyes the heavenly dainties, wherewith the souls, 
Num. 11.31.  which forsaking Egypt have betaken themselves sincerely to the service of God, are refreshed and fattened. 
Exod. 16.  For as that ancient Manna had this quality, that in itself alone it had the right savour of all kinds of meat or sauce a man could think of: 
Sap. 16.20.  so the spiritual delicacies, which Religion affordeth, do not only go beyond the sweetness of all earthly things, but contain in a more plentiful and more eminent degree all that in matter of dainties is to be found upon earth; and as a man, that hath drunk an excellent cup of wine, ●●●teth not to drink water, nor any other lickour of a sourer grape: so Religious people are so satisfied with this heavenly food, that they desire no other, and experience in their own souls that, 
Psal. 102 5.  which the Prophet said of himself: He that replenisheth thy desire with good things.  
8. Besides these dainties and sweetmeats, with which God is continually feeding Religious people, 
The providence of God over Religious people.  he hath a particular providence over them, to lead them and direct them in their journey with a great deal of care and love, defending, protecting, and preserving them in all their travels, and, as it is said of the Children of Israel, guiding them by a cloud in the day, and all the night by the light of fire: which is to say, he tempereth the scorching heats of this life, and removeth the darkness, carrying as it were a canopy over them against the heat of the sun, and in the nighttime going before them with a light in his hand, to prevent the incommodities and dangers, that might come upon them.  
9 We have also our Moses among us, 
The benefit of Superiors.  to wit, the governors and Superiors, whom God hath placed as his vice-gerents over us, which is a benefit full of comfort, in regard they declare unto us, what is the will of God; they deliver his commands, they are mediators betwixt God and us, and continually pray for us; and when we are asleep, or at our recreations, they watch in our behalf upon the hill, and earnestly deal our business in presence of the Divine Majesty. And notwithstanding (as anciently the Children of Israel) we want not enemies to confront us in this our journey, 
Enemies in Religion.  to wit, temptations, rising either from the in bred corruption of our nature, or from the malicious hatred of our sworn enemy the Devil; which, if we were alone and were to fight it out by ourselves, were certainly a fearful thing; yet by the help of God, who always assisteth us, and directeth us in all our ways, nothing is more easy, then to go through all, with great increase of glory, and much greater reward. For by his assistance and by his strength, that which was written of the people of the jews, 
Deut 32.30.  happeneth also to Religious people: One pursues a thousand, and two put to flight ten thousand; 
jos. ●.  the enemy's walls and strongest works fall down at a ●illie blast; and though whole armies rush-in upon us, we beat them down, and discomfit them, by only holding up our hands to heaven. 
Exod. 17.11.   
10. But where be these benefits to be found? where be these delicacies and delights? who be the men, upon whom they are bestowed? They are not to be found (as I said before) but in the Desert; they are not bestowed but upon them, that have wholly and utterly departed out of Egypt. Wherefore in those days also the Manna, which was a figure of that, which here we speak of, did not come down from heaven, before the meal failed them, which they had brought out of Egypt with them, and ceased again to fall so soon, as going out of the Desert they began to taste of the fruits of the earth. Whereby we understand, that no body can taste of this Divine sweetness, but he, that doth wholly and entirely withdraw himself from the world and all worldly things. Whereupon S. Gregory saith, 
S. Greg 27. 〈◊〉 c. 13.  that this sweet food, which falleth from above, is called Manhu; as who should say: Whiti● this? Because, when a soul is entangled in inferior thoughts, it admireth that, which is" represented unto it from above, as a thing unwonted.  

Religion the Land of Promise.  11. But if the Desert abound with so much heavenly comfort, what shall we think of the Land of Promise, which is the end of our journey, & the reward of our labour some travels! Here doubtless we shall find far more solidly and plentifully all that, which did set so sharp and edge upon the minds of the jews, when the promise was made unto them, a fertile soil, store of fresh springs and running waters abundance of wheat and barley, of wines, figs, and olives, and all kin● o● fruits, a land flowing with milk and honey; and if from these gross and earthly figures, wherein the mysteries of our soul are delivered unto us, we ascend to the spiritual understanding, which is hidden under them, we shall easily fall upon the happiness, which is in Religion, though we may better know, what it is, by experience and by trial of it, than we can by hearing or reading understand it.  
12 Having therefore discoursed in the precedent Books, of the Commodities, and of the Excellency and dignity of a Religious life, in this third Book we will declare the Pleasure, which is found in following it, that every body may see, that all kind of happiness and perfection attends upon it, as I proposed in the beginning. And we have some more reason to enlarge ourselves in this subject of the sweetness of a Religious state, because it is generally less known; and Secular people hardly believe, there is any pleasure at all in it. They will easily grant that a Religious life is an excellent course of life, and much more easily, that it is a profitable and safe kind of course for a man's soul; but as for pleasure, they utterly deny, there is any in it, and rather apprehend it to be extreme harsh, and full of unsufferable difficulties. This error we have here undertaken to confute, and to prove, that this State is not only a pleasant state, 
S. john Chrys●stome Homil 69. in Matth.  but much more pleasant than a Secular life. S. john Chrysostome doth often spend his eloquence in commendation of a Religious course, and particularly in one of his Homilies upon S. Matthew, he preferreth the sweetness of it far before the pleasures of the world, and before all those jollities, and pastimes, and delights, which are esteemed greatest among them, before the curious sights and pageants, which were wont to be represented publicly in the theatres with great cost and state, and before whatsoever pleasure can be thought-of in intemperate lust; showing evidently, that there is as much difference betwixt these two kinds of life and delights, as betwixt the harmony of the Quires of Angels sweetly singing, and hogs in their filth confusedly grunting. And because the cruel stinking Pharaoh, whom I paynted-out before, doth never cease to pursue & molest those, that fly from the servitude of the world into the Desert of Religion, either by himself or by his followers, armed with weapons of his own forging, we will disarm him and them, and take away all the weapons we can from them, and show, that the deceitful reasons and fallacies, with which they are wont to labour to pervert men's judgements, are of no force or solidity; to the end, that drowning our enemies again in the Red sea, all de●out souls, that either purpose to get out of Egypt, or have already got loose, and forsaken it, and arrived in the Desert and this happy Land of Promise, may enjoy the pleasures thereof with more satisfaction of mind, and more settled assurance.   

THE THIRD BOOK, OF THE HAPPINESS OF A RELIGIOUS STATE.  
That the pleasures of the Mind are far greater, than the pleasures of the Body. CHAP. I.  
AS in the precedent Book, to prove the excellency of a Religious State, we first searched and settled, wherein true Honour and Excellency did consist; so here we must lay the like foundation, and consider, what is true Pleasure, whereof we are to treat. For many, and perhaps I may say most men, know no pleasure, but that, which is the object of their taste, or touching, or other senses; and consequently make account, that indeed there is no other, 
It is a beastly persuasion, to esteem most of the pleasures of the body.  or at least, that these are the principal, and most to be stood upon. A persuasion befitting rather beasts than men. For they speak and pass their judgement of things, as if they had not a reasonable Soul, but a body only. If they did reflect, that they are reasonable creatures, and have a Soul and understanding in them, they would conceive also, as the truth is, that their Soul so far surpassing the other part of them, which is their body, hath also functions and pleasures proper unto it.  
2. Aristotle, 
Aristot. 7. E●h c. 1●.  though he were a Heathen, and wanted the light of Faith, which by the grace of God we have, was of a far other opinion; and in his Seaventh Book of Morals writeth much more advisedly to this purpose, that all men by instinct of Nature desire pleasure, because all have, as it were, a spark of Divinity instilled into them, which inclineth them to that, which in best. But because the pleasures of the body are most known, and every body hath a natural inclination unto them, they have in a manner engrossed the name and title of Pleasure to themselves, as it were, by hereditary prescription; insomuch tha● many are persuaded, that no other thing can be delightful. 
I●em lib 10. c 3.4 5.6  And in his Tenth Book he saith, that dishonest and filthy pleasure is not properly and absolutely to be called Pleasure, because no man takes it for such, but they are intemperate. That is to be taken for true pleasure, which an honest and virtuous man accounteth pleasure; for such an one is the rule of all the actions and pleasures of men; and that is only true pleasure, which is an honest man's delight. That others find pleasure in other things, comes by corruption; and consequently those things are not absolutely in all respects pleasant, but to them only, that are accordingly disposed. For as when children take a fancy to a thing and love it, they think for the present, that it is the excellentest thing that can be; and yet when they come to be men, they make no account at all of it; so good people take delight in some things, and wicked people in others; but they only lean to the pleasures of the body, that have not the right taste of sound and uncorrupted pleasure.  

S. Tho 1.2. q 1●. art. 4. Three things concu●●e in pleasure.  3 ●l this is Aristotle's discourse; and S. Thomas enlarging himself upon the same ground, saith, that Pleasure requires three things: first, some thing that is good, which may be conjoined; secondly, the thing, to which it is joined; and thirdly, the conjunction itself; and the more perfect these three things be, the greater the pleasure must necessarily also be. Now certainly a spiritual good is greater than the good of the body, and man naturally loves it more, and makes more account of it, as we may plainly see, because there is no man, that will not rather choose to want the sight of his eyes, than the light of his mind, and to be as a beast or a mad man. Besides that, the knowledge of the mind is more noble and more searching, then that which we have by Sense, as every body knows. And as for the conjunction, it is certainly more inward, more firm, and more perfect; more inward, because Sense reacheth no further, than the outward accidents, and rests in the taste, and colour, and such like; a man's understanding searcheth and diveth into the Essence and substance of every thing; It is more perfect, because Sense cannot be joined with the object without motion, which is an imperfect action; and therefore also no sensible pleasure can be all of it together, but part of it must pass away, tha● the remainder may have place; the pleasures of the mind are without motion, all wholly together, as the things themselves are in our mind, when we think of them; Finally it is more firm and permanent, because the things, in which the body taketh pleasure, are corruptible, and quickly gone, as meat, and drink, and such like; but spiritual goods remain for ever, and waste not with age or handling.  

 4. Following this ground therefore of S. Thomas, the pleasures of the body, compared with the pleasures of the mind, are apparently the worse of the two. First, because the ground of bodily pleasure, is ever a creature, and consequently, it is subject to whatsoever accident and misery can be incident to creatures; whereof it is none of the least, that every creature doth naturally run post to an end, and in time endeth; and is ever falling away betwixt our fingers, when we most think to use and enjoy it; and whatsoever sweetness can be imagined in a creature, is much of the nature of time, now a piece and then a piece, here a bit and there a bit, and slideth away as fast as time itself, than which nothing can be swifter. 
S. Augustin 〈◊〉 25. de v Ap.  S. Augustin expresseth it lively in one of his Sermons in these words: Where are the delights, for which you walk your wicked ways? I do not ask, where they will be, when this life is past; but where are they now? This day hath thrust out yesterday; to morrow will thrust out the day, in which now we are. What therefore of all that, which you love, doth not post, yea fly away from you? What part of it doth not even slip out of our hands, before we have it? For we cannot stop so much as one hour of the day, wherein we are. The first hour is thrust out by the second, the second by the third; so that of this one hour, which is present, nothing indeed is present, but every part and every moment of it is still running away from us. Thus spoke S. Augustin.  
5. Secondly, 
and base.  the matter of all corporal delights is base. For take a dish of meat, that is well dressed and excellently seasoned, or any such thing; what is there in it, that can be said to be worthy of a man's employment? All things of this nature are base and earthly; and consequently the delight, which they yield, is never a whit better. S. Bernard observing it, 
S. Bernard serm 4. in Vig. Nat.  saith thus: The comfort of this world is base and nothing worth, and, which is more to be feared, a hindrance to true and wholesome comfort. Besides that, most commonly there is some kind of unseemliness, more or less, in the pleasures of the body; and it is easy to be seen, because (if we mark) they that are any thing temperate, dissemble the desire, which they have of them, even in things, which are otherwise necessary; an evident sign even in Nature itself, that it is but an unworthy thing for man to place his affection upon them; whereas in the solaces of the mind it is quite contrary; for naturally they quicken and clear it up, and are an honour unto it. 
S. Augustin serm. de Verb. Dom.  Whereupon S. Augustin saith very well, that happy is the Soul, which is taken with those delights; for it is not stained with any uncleanness in them, but cleansed with the clearness of truth.  
6. If we look yet further into the nature and use of corporal delights, 
They are but salves for our griefs.  we shall find, that the reason, why they are so pleasing & so much desired, is, because they serve us as a salve & solace of the griefs whereunto we are subject. Which Aristotle also noteth, 
Aristot. 10. Eth c. 6. & 7.  commending the study of Philosophy as wonderful delightful, in regard of the permanency and purity, which it hath; because it is not mingled with those sorrows, which accompany the delights of sense in eating, and drinking, and the like; the pleasure whereof lasteth no longer, than we suffer hunger or thirst. 
S. Bernard ser. de prim. med. & nouisi●.  S. Bernard saith the same thing in far better terms and more fully, showing that all these things are not indeed to be called good, but lesser evils; and that, which we seek in them, is but to exchange heavier irons into lighter. Thou desirest to eat (saith the Saint) because hunger molests thee; both are troublesome; but because hunger is more troublesome, thou thinkest it is no trouble to eat. But mark, when thy hunger is past, if it be not more trouble to eat, then to abstain. This is the nature of all things under the Sun; there is nothing truly delightful in them, but a man is always desirous to pass from one thing to another, that by often change he may ease himself of the trouble, which he findeth in both; as if a body should leap out of the water into the fire, and out of the fire into ●he water again, being able to endure neither. For the remedy of eue●● trouble, is the beginning of another trouble.  
7. Moreover, to give every thing his due, there is none of all these corporal delights entirely and absolutely delightful, 
Mingled with sorrows.  but they are still coupled with many inconveniences and sorrows, and by that means they lose a great part of their savour, as a small quantity of wine mingled with a great deal of water. 
S Basilin Psal. 3●.  Every one doth find this to be so true by his own daily experience in all things, that we shall not need to seek farther proof of it. Yet S. Basil expresseth it naturally in these words: There is more trouble than pleasure in the delights of the body. Barrenness, and widowhood, and jealousy wait upon marriage; unfruitfulness upon husbandry; shipwreck upon marchanding; deceitful practices upon wealth; the pleasures themselves, the saturity, the continual use of them, bring diseases and many distempers. S. Gregory applieth to this purpose that, which is spoken in holy job of worldly people: 
job. 30.7. S. Greg. 20. Mor. c. 16.  They that rejoiced in the midst of these things, and made account, that under thorns were riches. Their joy (saith S. Gregory) is most commonly mingled with vexation; and they are beaten with the things themselves, whereof they are proud. For they cannot without trouble and care either get temporal things, which they have not; or conserve those, which they have gotten. To aspire therefore to honour above their equals, always to be working some mischief, and yet to watch with fear that they may not have the name of being wicked, certainly doth miserably gall them; but overcome with the love of temporal things, they feel not the sting. They rejoice therefore under thorns; they, I say, that rejoice in temporal things; and yet not being able to dispense them without vexation, the care, which presseth them, galleth them. They remain under thorns, and they esteem it a pleasure, because they suffer much hardness for the love of this life; and yet entangled in the affection of their over-greedie desire, they account the very trouble of their suffering a pleasure. And much more saith S. Gregory to the same effect, and particularly he likeneth these kind of people to the Children of Israel, that sighed after their pots of Egypt, and their pompions, and onions, and chibols. For what is signified, saith he, by the fleshpots of Egypt, but the carnal works of this life, which boil in the sorrows of tribulation, as in the fire? What are pompions but earthly sweetness? What is figured by the onions and chibols (which most commonly make them weep that eat them) but the difficulties of this present life, which the lovers of it pass not without lamenting, and yet love it even with tears. Forsaking therefore the Manna, they desired onions and chibols with their flesh and pompions; because wicked minds contemn the sweet gifts, which they may have by grace in quiet; and for their carnal pleasures covet the laboursome journeys of this life, though they be full of tears; they refuse to have that, wherewith they may rejoice spiritually, and desire greedily that, wherewith they must lament carnally. job therefore with his truth-telling voice doth reprehend their folly, in that out of an erroneous judgement they prefer trouble before tranquillity, harsh things before the mild, sharp before the sweet, temporal before the eternal, things deceitful before those that be assured. Thus speaketh S. Gregory, not only truly, as he doth always, but also eloquently, whereunto we may add another reason out of S. Bernard, to wit, that if our mind be sensible of the pleasures of the body, to which it is united; how much more sensible must it needs be of the pleasures, which properly belong unto itself, and are more nearly and truly in it? For as a man doth relish the business after another fashion, when his horse feeds upon his hey, and when himself feeds upon meat, that is convenient for him, so it fareth with our soul in regard of our body, which is but, as it were, the beast, which carrieth it. 
S. Bernard serm.  Do not therefore mistake (saith S. Bernard) do not deceive thyself so far, 
E●ce nos.  as to think, that thy Soul is not more delighted with spiritual then with corporal things.  
8. Another consideration to prove this, 
Spiritual delights proper to man.  which we are saying, is, that the more suitable a thing is to our nature, it is also the more pleasing and delightful. For so we see, that men take delight in one kind of food, beasts in another; and among beasts some feed upon flesh, others upon corn, others graze; and every kind of thing finds most contentment in that, which agreeth best with the nature, which it hath. The nature of man is to be governed by reason; for though he have also sense, and motion, and the faculty of growing, yet these belong the inferior part of him; and are not proper to him alone, but common betwixt him and beasts. Reason and understanding is that, which is peoper to Man, and belongeth so near to the perfection and constitution of his nature, that without it he were not a man, but a beast; and consequently the delights, which are conformable to reason, and grounded in it, are both more suitable to human nature, and for the same cause more pleasing; specially, if we consider withal (as we may justly) that among the several qualities and powers, that are in man, the higher and the more noble the power is, it is also the more pregnant and effectual in operation; so that Reason being far more noble than Sense, it exerciseth the functions belonging to reason with more perfection and vigour, than Sense can perform the offices belonging to Sense; and as it is more pregnant in all other operations, so it is more apt to take delight in the things, which are agreeable unto it.  
9 Finally, 
The difference betwixt corporal and spiritual delights.  whensoever we compare these delights together, that, which S. Gregory saith excellently well of them, is very important to be considered. The difference, saith he, betwixt the delights of the body, and of the mind, is this: The delights of the body, when we have them not, breed a burning desire to have them; and when we take greedily of them, presently through satiety they breed a loathing in him, that takes them. chose spiritual delights, 
S. Gregori● Hom. 30. in Euang▪  when we have them not, are tedious; when we have them, they prove desireful; and he that feeds upon them, hungers after them the more, by how much he feeds upon them with the greedier appetite. In corporal delights, the desire is pleasing, the trial distasteful; In spiritual delights, the desire is cold and contemptible, the trial delightful. In the first, desire breedeth saturity, saturity loathsomeness; in the second, desire brings saturity, saturity again whetteth our desire of them. For spiritual delights increase a desire in our hart, while they fill it; because the more we perceive the right favour of them, the more knowledge we have of that, which we must needs love more eagerly; and therefore we cannot love them, when we have them not, because we cannot know the true relish of them. Nothing can express more perfectly the difference, which is betwixt the delights of the body and of the mind, then that, which S. Gregory here saith of them, to wit, that the use of corporal pleasures breeds a loathing of them; but spiritual delights chose the more eagerly we feed upon them, the more they win our affection to them. For as we cannot discern, which is good wine, and which is bad, better, then by tasting it, and our taste is in fine the best judge of it; so by duly weighing the joy, which is true and solid, and also that, which is false and deceitful, and comparing them together, we shall be best able to discover, how that in the one there is nothing but emptiness and falsehood, and in the other, truth and solidity even beyond expectation, and abundantly enough to delight us more and more without end.  
10. It is therefore sufficiently apparent both by reason and authority of the holy Fathers, that the pleasures of the Mind are the principal and the chiefest of all other pleasures; yet because many are jealous of that which the holy Fathers say, and think that they go further, and speak in a more sublime strain, then humane infirmity can ordinarily bear, I will conclude this Chapter with a discourse of Plato (besides that, 
Plato in Dial. de Rep.  which I said before out of Aristotle) where he clearly proveth this, whereof we are speaking. As hunger and thirst (saith he) are an emptiness of the body, so ignorance & imprudence are emptinesses of the mind; and as our body is filled, when we take corporal sustenance, so our mind with science and knowledge. Which repletion therefore is the more solid? Is it not that, which is made by things, which in themselves are more truly solid? And which things are to be accounted such, and of a more pure substance, meat and drink, victuals, and whatsoever sustenance, or persuasions of truth, knowledge, and, in a word, all kind of virtue? Certainly we must needs confess, that that is most solidly and most truly existent, which doth always abide in an immortal and unchangeable thing, and which itself also is immortal and unchàngeable (such as is the essence of every thing, and consequently also the knowledge of it) rather than that, which is in a changeable thing, and itself is changeable; such as are all things pertaining to the oeconomic of the body. Wherefore if it be a delightful thing to be filled with that▪ which is suitable to our nature, the more solid the things be, and the more truly we are filled with them, the more true and more natural pleasure it must needs be, which we enjoy by them. And thus it fareth with us, when our mind is filled. Wherefore people, that are void of virtue, and given to their belly and the like, never taste the least parcel of true and solid pleasure, but as beasts have their eyes always upon the ground, and spend their time in doing homage to their bellies; and fight with one another with their heels, and with their horns, and with their nails, for those base and abject things. And so the pleasures, which they follow, must needs be mingled with many sorrows, and are indeed but pictures and shadows of true pleasure, as the Poet Stesichorus said of the Troyans'; that, not knowing at all the true Helen, they fought only for the imagination of her. All this is Plato his discourse.   

That true content of mind is only in God. CHAP. II.  
Having proved, that true contentment is only to be had in the pleasures of the Mind, it remaineth to consider, wherein the Mind itself doth take most contentment, which is easy for a Christian to determine, and not far to seek; because every Christian knoweth, and doth most certainly believe, 
God is the true life and delight of a Soul.  that GOD alone is the true food and true life of a Soul. And it is so clear and evident beside, that the best learned Philosophers among the Heathens could think no other. For Aristotle discoursing at large of Beatitude, 
Arist 10. 〈◊〉. c 7. & 8.  wherein all pleasures are in their height, concludeth at last, that it consisteth in the knowledge and contemplation of GOD, and of Minds (as he calls them) abstracted from the body, and free from all composition; in regard that the function of the Understanding in Man is the sweetest and pleasantest of all others, and complete within itself, and so far from standing in need of any outward thing, that they rather hinder a man, that desires to give himself to Contemplation. And whereas we must necessarily acknowledge, that God and those spiritual Intelligences are always in some action or other (for no man can think that they are so dull as to be idle, and, as it were, asleep) the noblest action, which we can give them, is to be always in perpetual Contemplation; and consequently men upon earth, that give themselves to such a kind of life, take the perfectest course, that can be thought of, and most like to God. This is the discourse of a man, that wanted the light of the Euangelical truth; what therefore ought we to think or say in this business?  
2. Let us hear a Christian Philosopher speak. 
S. August. in Psa. 102.  S. Augustin beholding this thing far more clearly and more particularly in the light, than Aristotle could do in the dark, saith thus: O soul! seek thy own good. For one thing is good for one, an other for another; and every creature hath a good by itself, the good of the integrity belonging unto it, the good of the perfection, which is natural unto it, and there is a great deal of difference in that, which is necessary for the perfection of every thing. Seek thy own good. Nobody is good, 
Luc. 18. 1●.  but GOD alone, the Sovereign Good; that is thy good. What doth he want, that hath the Sovereign Good for his good? There be inferior goods, which are good to this thing, and that thing. What is the good of a beast, but to fill his belly, to want nothing, to sleep, to play, to live, to be in health, to attend to generation? Dost thou seek such a good? Co-heyre of Christ, wherein dost thou rejoice? in that thou art a companion to beasts? Raise thy hope to the Good of all goods. Where you see S. Augustin lays the likeness of a beast to them, that like beasts know no other good, no other delight, but that, which is confined within the bounds of Sense; and giveth us to understand moreover, that such a kind of persuasion is so much the more unworthy, because all men are created with a possibility to be Heirs of God, and Coheirs of Christ, that is, such as may be styled, and truly be, the sons of God. He saith also, that meat, & drink, and sleep, and other more unworthy things, are not the good of a Soul, but only God; because that is the good of every thing, as he saith, by which the thing is perfected & made better; whereas these inferior things do not perfect a Soul, but rather make it worse; because they draw it from higher things, for which it was created, & make it stoop to base and earthly things, by the love and use whereof it comes to be defiled.  

God as the sovereign Happiness, is the End of Man.  3. Another ground of that, of which we are speaking, is this. It is certain, and it cannot be denied, that as all other creatures have their appointed ends so Man much more hath some end prefixed, at which he doth aim; otherwise so excellent a nature, as his is, should want so great a good, of which all other goods do in a manner depend. This end of Human nature, at which all do aim, is Happiness; and no other Happiness, but GOD; which S. Thomas proveth, 
S. Thom 1.2. q. 2. a. 8.  because the good, wherein we place our happiness, must be so great a good, that it may fill our desire, & absolutely satisfy it to the full. For it cannot be said to be our last end, if there remain any thing further to be desired. Seeing therefore the object of the will of Man is all Good, & the object of his reason & understanding all Truth, nothing can absolutely satisfy two Powers so capacious, but an universal Entity, which also is an universal Good, which cannot be found among creatures, because the nature and goodness of all creatures is limited and confined; GOD therefore is the only felicity of man, in whom all things are infinite.  

S. August. de Mori●. 〈…〉 1.  4. S. Augustin hath a learned and elaborate discourse to the same effect in the Book, which he wrote of the Manners of the Church. He saith, that every body doth naturally desire to be happy; & that three things are required to Happiness. First, that the thing, wherein we place our happiness, be the best, secondly, that we love it; thirdly, that we possess it. For a man, that desireth that, which he cannot compass, is vexed with it; a man that compasseth that, which is not to be desired, is deceived in the business; and he that desireth not that, which is to be sought after, is in an i'll disposition. Then he saith further, that that which is best for man, cannot be worse or less than man himself, for whosoever seeks after that, which is worse than himself, makes himself worse than he was before, therefore that only can be best for man, which is better & more excellent than man and withal that he be able so to compass it, as not to lose it against his will; for if a man be not assured of the good, which he hath, the fear of losing it, takes away the happiness, which he might have in it. And consequently Virtue and GOD, 
God and Ve●●●e, only Happiness of Man.  to whom by virtue we are conjoined, is our only Happiness; if we attend upon God, we are well; if we comprehend him, we are happy. These are truths, which S. Augustin delivers, and which no man can deny.  
5. The nature of the End or final Cause & But of every thing, is, that whatsoever hath an End prefixed, 
In 〈◊〉 E●d 〈…〉 re●t.  it can not be at quiet, till it have obtained the End, and when it hath obtained it, there it must needs rest; & the nearer it comes by degrees to the obtaining of the desired End, the more pleasure it takes, and the in 〈◊〉 is at quiet; the further it is from the End, the worse & more unquiet it is. Wherefore as it is most certain, that then we shall have perfect joy and rest, when face to face we shall set God, as 〈◊〉; so it doth most certainly follow, that the nearer we approach to God in this life, the longer we converse with him, the clearer knowledge we have of him, the more contentment of mind also we shall enjoy; and this contentment is of the selfsame nature with that, which we shall have in heaven; but only with this difference, that here our joy and contentment is small, there it shall be infinitely great.  
6. What should I stand making large discourses upon a thing, 
A comparison betwixt pleasures.  which is evident? So far as the nature of God doth excel the nature of whatsoever creature, so much difference is there betwixt the pleasures of the body, and the delights of the mind. What is there in the daintiest fare that is, in the fairest gardens, in all the pleasures of this life, that can be compared with God? Which is better, God who is Al-Good, or a piece of veal, or a partridge, or any dainty dish? If the difference be so great, that it is a shame to make such a comparison, it must necessarily follow, that the delight, which riseth by enjoying this Good, tasted & savoured in the palate of the Soul, 
S. Bernard Ep. 114.  is incomparably greater, than those other delights of the body; which S. Bernard expresseth in these words: Certainly that only is true contentment, which is taken in the Creator, and not in the creature; the contentment, which once possessed, no man can take from thee, and in comparison whereof all other mirth is sadness; all pleasure, sorrow; all sweetness, bitter; all beauty, ill-favoured; finally all that breeds delight, is troublesome.  
7. I will conclude with one thing more, 
All that is good in creatures, is instantly more in God.  which indeed is the ground of all, and therefore I will lay it down as plain as I can, but yet briefly. In creatures there is nothing, which can be truly said to be, no spark of goodness, no degree of beauty, which is not far more abundant & more perfectly in God. First, because the nature of God is infinite; and if any thing were wanting in it, it were not infinite; secondly, 
S Bernard Ser ● 〈◊〉 san●●.  whatsoever creatures have in them, they have it from G●d; & no man can give another that which he hath not himself; whereupon S. Bernard maketh this reflection: ●n the Sun thou admirest the light; in a flower, beauty; in bread, the savour; in the earth, the fertileness of it. All these things have their being from God; & no doubt but he hath reserved to himself far more, than he hath bestowed upon creatures. Which being most true, it doth necessarily follow, that whosoever hath God, hath in him all other things; & consequently the very selfsame delight, which ●e should have taken in other things, if he had enjoyed them severally, he enjoyeth it in God in a far greater measure & more elevated. For as a man, that hath a piece of coin in gold, hath the value of many pieces of silver, as much as if he had the several pieces of silver themselues, & so much the more commodiously, because he is rid of the trouble, which the weight and bulk of silver brings with it▪ so he that is united with God, hath the very marrow or quintessence, as I may call it, of all that goodness, which, dispersed in this great variety of the things of this world, cannot choose but be mingled with many incommodities & imperfections, incident to the penurious, and limited, and corporal nature of every thing; from which incommodities he, that hath them in God, is free.  
8. Which is the reason, why S. Francis, 
S. Francis  as we read of him, had always this saying in his mouth: My God, and all things. A saying, which he was so wedded to, that he could almost think of nothing else, 
S. Aug. 10. Conf. 6.  & oftentimes spent whole nights in this one Meditation. S. Augustin discoursing excellently well of it, speaketh thus to God: What do I love, when I love thee: Not the beauty of a body, not the comeliness of time, not the brightness of light so pleasing to these my eyes, not the sweet melodious sounds of all sorts of pleasant songs, not the fragrant savours of flowers or ointments, or delicate spices, not Mā●a or honey, not the 〈◊〉, which flesh doth so welcomely embrace. These be not the things, which I love, when I love my God; and yet I love a kind of light, and a kind of sound, and a kind of savour, and a kind of food, and a kind of embracing, when I love my God▪ the light, the sound, the savour, the food, the embracing of my inward man, where that shineth to my soul, which no place is capable of; and where that soundeth, which time carrieth not away; and where I smell that, which the wind disperseth not; and where I taste that, which eating diminisheth not; and where that remaineth fast unto me, which no fullness doth divert me from. This is that, which I love, when I love my God. This is of S. Augustin.  
9 Wherefore seeing it is so evident by all these reasons, which I have cursorily pointed at, that God is the chiefest delight of every nature, that hath reason and understanding, every body must necessarily also see, how delightful a Religious course of life is, which is so wholly set upon the enjoying of God, and hath so many easy means and ways to enjoy him. But it will be yet more evident, when we shall have discoursed of the several delights, which are very many in it.   

The first reason, why a Religious life is delightful; because it is free from worldly trouble. CHAP. III.  
AMong the many pleasures, which are in a Religious course of life (whereof I am now going to speak) I may well reckon in the first place, the freedom, which it enjoyeth from the vexations and encombers, wherewith a secular life is pestered. To conceive the greatness of this benefit, it were sufficient to understand, 
How happy it is, to be free from pain.  that some ancient Philosophers of no mean rank, were of opinion, that the Happiness of man consisted in being free from pain and grief, and all kind of trouble. For thereby we may conclude, that it was always held to be no small good, to be free from all evil. But yet no man can throughly enter into the importance of it, unless he first understand, how infinite the miseries and calamities of the world be, so grievous, and so different, and so frequent, and obvious, that we may sooner behold them with our eyes, th●n declare them by word of mouth; and in respect thereof may justly say, 
The world is another Egypt for 〈◊〉. Exod 12.  the world is another Egypt, when (as we find recorded in Exodus) there was not a house in it, which did not ring with most lamentable cries at the death of their first-begotten. And though (as I said) this be a thing, which we may sooner see with our eyes, then learn by discourse, yet many of the ancient Fathers have handled this point at large and very eloquently.  

S. ●o Chry. de Virg. c. 17.  2 In particular S. john Chrysostome, to show the happiness of Virginity, which he had undertaken to commend, doth lay together so many misfortunes of married people, that it is a horror to read them. For he proveth, that before their marriage, 
The miseries of married people.  and when they marry, and ever after, all is trouble and vexation, and full of a world of miseries; and that, if they have any touch of delight, it is not comparable to their griefs; because it is drowned in their present calamities, and in those, that hang over their head for the future.  
3. S. Gregory Nyssen is so large in his discourse of the selfsame miseries, 
S. Greg. N●yss. lib de Virg. c. 3.  that (as he saith himself) it were matter enough to make a Tragedy. For not to repeat all that goes before, the pains of childbed are intolerable, because not only the womb of the mother is most pitifully torn in pieces, but the husband, if he have any feeling, must needs be exceedingly grieved at it. When this is over, and the danger past together with the pain, and the child borne, which was so long desired, the causes of lamenting are not less, but ●reater. For than begins the care of bringing-up the child, the continual fear lest it come by some mischance (which chances all ages and states are subject unto, but specially the tender age of an infant) than they are jealous 〈◊〉 it catch a fever, or fall into some other disease. Finally (saith he) the miseries, which come of marriage, are very many: for children bring 〈◊〉, w●en they are borne, and before they are borne, while they are alive, an● when they are dead. If a man have cause to joy in the number of his children, he hath cause of sorrow, because he hath not wherewith to maintain them. Another perhaps hath laboured much to scrape a great deal of wealth together, and hath not an heir, to whom to leave it. So that one man's happiness is another's misfortune, while neither of them would have that befall him, whereat he sees an other tormented. This man's sweet child is dead, the other's lives debauched: both certainly are to be pitied, one grieving at the death, the other at the life, of their own child. Who can number the distempers, the troubles, the branglings, which rise every foot betwixt them, upon true causes, and false suspicions? This and much more to the like effect is the discourse of S. Gregory Nyssen, 
S. Basil.  which almost word for word S. Basil takes up, and enlargeth himself in it with a great deal of Rhetoric in the Book, which he written of true Virginity. 
S. Hierome.  And S. Hierome no less copiously and effectually repeats the same against jovinian.  
4. For my part, I am of opinion, 
S. Io Chrys. de Virg. c. ●7.  that S. john Chrysostome said very truly of this world of miseries, which married people are subject unto, that no man can conceive the greatness of them, unless he have tried them; and they that have had the experience be the only men, that truly find, that there is far more sorrow and bitterness in the delights, which people make account they shall have, than pleasure and contentment. Besides that, it is to be observed as a certain truth, that both these and all other sorrows seem much less, when we only read or imagine them, than when we feel them. For no grief can go so near us, when we imagine it afar off, specially if it concern not ourselves, as when we actually feel it in our own person.  
5. These therefore are the general miseries common to all Secular people, 
The troubles of the world.  and from which they, that ●iue most at ease, and meddle not with any public business at all, but attend only to the menaging of their own private estate & bringing-up of their children, which people commonly account a happy kind of life, are not exempt. But there be others, that labour & toil in 〈◊〉 of the world like horses. For what shall we say of the life of a S●●●di●, in the midst of so many dangers of life and limbs, 
Merchants.  and incommodities of wind and weather, heat and cold, and the like? Or of Merchants, that spending their whole time in thinking of their adventures, in writing, and casting-up their ends together, take as much toil as if they were day-labourers; and there is little difference betwixt them, but that the one labours in the sun, the other in the shade; for as for care, and solicitude, and anxiety, and fear the merchant hath far greater, still taking thought, what may be come of his ship, whether it be castaway or no, whether the plenty of corn be like to pull down the market, or lest some other mischance of thousands befall him, & sweep all away in an hour, which he had so long sweat for.  
6. What shall I say again of them that aspire to preferment? Do they not bereave themselves altogether of their liberty, 
Ambitious people.  and out of a greedy desire of command over others (which God knows whether they shall ever attain unto, or how long they may enjoy it) make themselves very slaves in present to other m●ns humours, waiting upon them like pages, and putting themselves upon a necessity of observing every turn of their head, & every change of their countenance? What do they not endure by day, and what pensive nights must they needs have? What fire would they not runne-through to compass their ends? And when they have gotten that, which they aimed at, they burn with a greater fire within them, 
S. August. Ep. 121.  and make S. Augustin's words good: Riches, and the shadows of honour, and all other things of like nature, wherein men think themselves happy, being void of true happiness, what comfort can they bring, seeing it is far more honourable not to stand in need of them, then to be eminent in them; and the fear of losing them doth torment a man more, than the burning desire did of getting them▪ Which kind of misery S. Paulinus also expresseth excellently well in a long Exhortation, which he wrote in verse to Licentius a young man, that followed the Court of Rome for preferrement-sake, labouring to draw him from the world to the service of CHRIST; where among other things, he saith thus: 

S. Paulin. Ep ad Licent. vid. Ep Aug. 36.  Vain Rome, and powerful to deboish the strong,  
With diverse shapes solicits thee aw●y.  That which he saith of Rome in those days, that it was powerful to deboish the strong, that is, even such as might be grounded in virtue, and divert them from the course thereof, may be said of all other places in the world. Then he shows the vanity and dangers of preferment: 
Now hope to rise, now fear to fall, doth throng.  
Thy hart. Stand sure; 't is worse to fall from high.  And who is there, that can stand sure in so slippery a place? who is there, that doth not rather stand very tickle? Wherefore he foretelles' him also of the late repentance, which experience of such things is wont to bring: 
Too late, and then in vain, thou wilt bewail  
Deceitful hope, and wish to break this jail,  
Which now thou buildest.  For oftimes we rush into the snares and nets at unawares, & afterwards would fain break out of them, and we cannot, unless we look to ourselves betimes. Wherefore having discoursed at large of the misery of such a kind of life, he inviteth him to the more easy and more happy service of Christ, in this manner: 
Shake-of the yoke betimes; Christ's burden's light;  
His yoke is sweet; his word is truth; his service,  
Freedom; and to stoop to him, is, in right  
Of sons of God, to command over vice,  
And proudest Lords and Kings etc.  And enlarging himself in the comparison between these two lives, showeth how the service of God is true freedom, and the service of the world is very slavery, to which all such are subject, as (to use his phrase) by 
Frequenting Court  
And Princely palaces,  
And suffering Rome,  
Make choice of miseries.  Where, as you see, he termeth the living in Rome (suffering Rome) as a toilsome & a trouble something; a new manner of speech, yet fitly expressing the matter he speaks of; 
People that choose to be miserable.  and yet more neatly, where he styleth them voluntarily miserable, that lead such a life; which is as much to say, as to be twice miserable. For if a man suffer misery against his will, yet he is sound in his judgement, which is a great comfort, and not only a comfort, but oftentimes a remedy of his miseries; but he, that loves the misery in which he is, doth not only erro in his judgement, which is of itself a great misery, but doth not so much as seek to avoid it, and consequently there is no hope of remedy for him.  
7. A Religious life is free from all these evils, 
A Religious life free from misery.  vexations, and miseries, which are in themselves so many and so great, and perplex people of this world so much, and tear their very hearts in pieces. How much this freedom from misery is to be esteemed, may be partly understood by that, which passeth in our body. For though we have no special thing to take pleasure in, yet, if we be in health, if we have no feverish distemper upon us, if the humours of our body be not altered and out of order, we take great pleasure even in that want of disturbance; as on the other side, it is a great vexation to be troubled with a pain in our side, or in our feet, or in any other part of us. The selfsame effect therefore, which perfect health and tha● general temper of humours worketh in our body, the freedom from worldly troubles and vexations, worketh in our soul; and is of itself alone a wonderful pleasing and delightful thing. Wherefore seeing people love their health so dearly, and spare no cost to get it, nor time to attend unto it, and many spend their whole substance, with the woman in the Gospel, to purchase it, 
Luc. 8.43.  and abide fire and lance, suffering their flesh to be cut and burnt, rather than fail of it; who can think but the tranquillity of a Religious life is much more earnestly to be desired, and all little enough to bestow and spend in the compass of it? For that, which S. john Chrysostom writing in defence of a Monastical life, 
S. Io. Chrys. lib. 2. 〈…〉 Mon●st.  saith, is very true: Which is easier and more full of quiet? to be entangled in so many and so pickant cares, subject to such watch and ward, and slavery, to live in continual fear and daily solicitude, lest fortune fail us, our substance wholly perish; or to be at liberty, free from these bonds and cares? For though a man desire no more than he hath, though he labour not to add more weight to the burden of his wealth; though we grant all this, is it not far better, to discharge himself of his burden, then to be crushed by tha●, which he hath already upon his shoulders? Finally, as I said before, if it be a great happ●nes to be content with a few things of small value, it must certainly needs be a greater happiness, to be above all necessity. And the same Saint discoursing to the same purpose in one of his Homilies proveth, 
Id Home 6. ●● Pop.  that howsoever the world takes the life of Monks to be a distasteful and burdensome life, yet in very deed it is much sweeter, and more desireful (for all these are his own words) than any other life, seem it never so sweet and easy, and for proof thereof appeals to secular people themselves, to whom then he spoke, 
The testimony of worldly people for Religion  and saith of them, that when they see themselves hedged-in with the trouble and vexations of this world, than they call them happy, t●at free from marriage live at quiet in Monasteries; because they have not such worldly sa●nes & grief to oppress them, they are not subject to all those cases, and dangers, and deceitful plots, they suffer not by envy, or jealousy, or fancies of love, nor any other thing of that nature.  

Two benefits in one.  8. Where we must note, that in this one happiness there be two great benefits involved. For first we are eased of the burden and heavy carriage (as S. john C●rysostome calls it) of the world; secondly, being discharged of it, & as it were let lose, we are at liberty; which liberty is accompanied with unspeakable delight. And God through his power and mighty hand being the sole author of it, it is not without great reason, that in holy job he glorieth of this his work, 
job 19.8.  and professeth, that it is himself, and nobody else, that unloose 〈◊〉 bonds of t●e 〈◊〉 d Ass, and sets him free, and giveth him a dwelling in the desert. Which passage S. Gregory understands of Religious people, 
S. Greg. 10 moral. c. 12.  giving this excellent exposition of it: The wild Ass, that abideth in the desert, doth not unproperly signify the life of them, that live remote from the troubles of the world. And this Ass is fitly said to be free, because the servitude of secular businesses, wherewith the mind is much broken, is very great, howsoever the pains, which men take in them, be voluntary. And to cover nothing at all of the world, is, in effect, to be free from this servile condition. For prosperous things lie like a yoke upon a man's neck, while we covet them; and things cr●●sse and adverse, while we fear them. But if a man once pull the neck of his mind from under the command of temporal desires, he enjoyeth a kind of liberty in this life, because he is not racked with desire of prosperity, nor straightened with fear of adversity. For it is a hard thing, and a heavy bondage to be subject to temporal things, to be ambitious of earthly things, to labour to hold that which is always slipping, to stand in things that cannot stand, to desire that which is still running from us, and yet to be unwilling to go with that which is always going. He therefore is at liberty, that trea●ing those desi●es under foot by tranquillity of mind, is discharged of the love of temporal things. All this is of S. Gregory.  
9 Wherefore to conclude, as a man that hath his irons knocked off, & is let go out of prison, or is taken out of the water, where he was half drowned, thinks he hath a great benefit in it, though nothing else be done unto him, in like manner shall not a man, that is drawn out of the world, and 〈◊〉 no● from one only evil and trouble, as they are, but from very many great mischiefs and calamities, make account, that he hath gotten a great matter, and esteem highly of this one thing, though there were nothing else in it? Certainly, it is reason he should. And if we believe S. Bernard, this is the reason, why the holy-ghost in the Canticles describeth a Religious life under the title of a bed strewed with flowers; 
Cant. 1.17. S Bernard ser. 4●. in Cant.  because as a man takes most ease in his bed, so people are at most ease in Religion. I think, saith S. Bernard, that the bed, wherein we rest in the Church, are Cloisters and Monasteries, where we live quietly, void of secular cares, and free from the anxieties of this life. And this bed is manifestly strewed with flowers, when the life and conversation of the Religious Brethren shineth with examples and practices of the ancient Fathers, as strewed with so many odoriferous flowers. Thus saith S. Bernard.   

That Religious discipline is easy. CHAP. IU.  
IT is not enough to have showed, that a Religious course of life is free from the difficulties and troubles, which are in the world; for a man might say, that though it have not the troubles of the world, it hath other vexations, which make it irksome and tedious. We will therefore here make it plain, that the whole order and practise of Religious discipline is easy and pleasant; a thing contrary to the conceit, which usually people make of it, apprehending a Religious course to be intolerably burdensome, as if one should lay a whole hill upon a man's shoulder; 
Virtue agreeable to Nature.  and therefore that, which we are to say of it, requireth a little more attention. And to ground ourselves upon the principles of Nature, we must understand, that nothing is so pleasing and so conformable to Nature, as Virtue. For what is Virtue, if we consider it well, but Reason cultivated and perfected? Seeing therefore Reason is as natural to man, as man is to himself, because without it he is not Man, Virtue must consequently be in the same measure agreeable unto him. Which may be proved also by the natural & inbred inclination and propension, which Man hath to Virtue, manifesting itself in the joy, which we feel within ourselves, when we do well, & the sadness on the other side, & dejection of mind, when we do amiss. If therefore Nature be so desirous of Virtue, the practice of it must needs be easy and pleasant; for so we see it happeneth in every thing else. All things take most conten●ment in that, which is most suitable to their nature, as, birds in flying, fishes in swimming, and every living creature in the food, which is most natural to it. For though thi● inclination to Virtue, of which we speak, be much weakened by Original sin, and the multitude of our own offences; yet these are but outward encumbrances, as clouds betwixt us and the sun, or ashes heaped upon the embers; inwardly Nature still inclineth to Virtue and good life, and Reason doth always sway us that way, whensoever these outward impediments happen to be removed.  

The inferior part naturally subject to Reason. Arist. 1. 〈◊〉 c. vlt 1. Pol. c. 2.  2. And thus much concerning the superior part of our soul; let us see● how the inferior part thereof stands affected. Aristotle saith, that naturally it is subject and obedient to the upper part, which is Reason, and that therein it differeth from the rest of our vital functions, which are not pliable to the command of Reason, as the faculties which serve for nourishment, augmentation, and the like. And though this sensual appetite of ours have certain motions and inclinations to that which is delightful, which are peculiar to itself, yet in itself, and in every motion of it, it hath a reference to the light of Reason; for otherwise, saith Aristotle, it were in vain for our betters to reprehend us, or our equals to admonish us, or inferiors to entreat us. And it is a strong argument, that it is so; because every thing doth naturally take contentment in that, which is like itself, and of the same rank and strain. Our soul therefore being wholly spiritual, must necessarily be most delighted with things, that are spiritual. Whereupon Abbot Isaac, a most holy man (as Cassian relateth) compareth our soul to a feather. 
Cassian Coll. 9 c. 4.  For as a feather, saith he, if it have no water or other gross humour upon it, is easily lifted up from the earth on-high with every little blast of wind; so the soul of man, being a spirit, hath a natural lightness, which easily mounteth it to things supernal and Celestial, contemning base and earthly things, if vice and worldly care do not oppress it.  

It belonged to the Providence of God to ordain it so Sap 8.1.  3. Finally, we shall not need to demur long upon the proof of this point, seeing no man can doubt of it, unless he will wrong the Divine Wisdom, and accuse it of imprudence. For having created all men to the end, they might purchase eternal felicity by good works and upright living; it belonged to the selfsame Providence (the nature whereof is to dispose all things sweetly) to make them of such a mould, as might not be repugnant and adverse to the end, for which they were created, and draw them from it, but rather further them, and put them forward, as far as the strength of Nature can go, howsoever of itself alone it is not sufficient and strong enough to bear them quite through. And I see no reason, why we should make any question, but that God hath dealt so with us, seeing he hath dealt so with all other creatures in the world. For because the end of the Fire is to be above all other Elements, God hath put a natural lightness in it, proportionable to that end; in like manner the Earth is naturally heavy & lumpish, because the Centre thereof is the midst of the world; & the same is in all things, that have life, & in others also that have no life. God therefore holding this course in things so far inferior to man, & ordained to ends far unequal in dignity & worth; shall we think, he swerveth from it in a nature, that is the noblest of them all, & ordained to the highest End, that can be? S. Basil speaking of Charity proveth by this very argument, that it is easy and very natural for Man to love God; and what he saith of Charity, may be applied to all other Virtues. Charity, 
S. Basil Reg. kusier in●●s.  saith he, towards God, doth not depend upon precepts of learning. For as we do not learn to look upon the light, and take pleasure in it; or to love our own life, or our parents, and those that have given us our breeding, much less doth any outward learning teach us to love God, but at the instant that man entereth upon his Being, he hath withal a natural instinct of reason engrafted in him, containing the beginning of a kind of necessity of loving him. And proveth this his Tenet at large; because God having given Man diverse other natural abilities proportionable to the performance of whatsoever he hath commanded, to the end he might not complain, that his Commandments are grievous, it was far more necessary he should do the like in the Commandment of the Love of God, it being the greatest of all, and consequently most necessary we should from our cradle have an impulsion towards it, which might carry us unto it. This and much more to the same effect is the discourse of S. Basil, which though it were of force only in Charity, yet it were a great help in nature to all goodness, in regard of the command, which Charity hath over all other virtues; but indeed that, which he saith of Charity, holds in others also: for the reason, which he giveth, takes place in all, to wit, it was necessary, that in Nature itself there should be some beginnings of virtue, which might help it, not to resist, but the more readily to run with the Commandments of God, to the end we might the more easily obey them.  
4. That which we h●ue hither to said, 
Grace far 〈◊〉 effectual.  is grounded upon the facility of doing good, which God hath planted in our very nature, which is nothing to that, which the force of Grace doth put into us. That which is in Nature, is but a beginning, and a kind of seed, which of itself alone can do nothing. Grace giveth the true form and soul, as I may say, out of which virtuous actions do proceed, 
1 Cor 15.47 Psal 50 Ma●arius Hom. 44.  and, in a word, it maketh man a new man, as the Apostle speaketh, Celestial and Divine; and giveth us a new hart, and reneweth an upright spirit in our bowels. S. Macarius in one of his Homilies setteth forth the effect of this Grace very lively, telling us, that our Saviour Christ came down from heaven to change, to transform, to renew our nature, and to new-molde this soul of ours, by sin entangled in many evil affections and dispositions, tempering it with his Divine spirit. He came, saith he, to give us a new mind, a new soul, 
〈◊〉 6. Num 22. Dan. 3 & 7.  new eyes, new hands, a new spiritual tongue, and, to be short, to make those, that believe in him, new men. For he that increased & multiplied the substance of five Loaves; and gave speech to the Ass, which by nature was absolutely dumb; & made the Fire like a wind of dew blowing, notwithstanding that naturally it burneth; and tamed the rage of the Lions for Daniel's sake; he can also turn a soul into his goodness and peace, & fill it with a good spirit, though of itself it be like a desert grown wild with sin.  
●. This S. Macarius speaketh of the Grace, 
The Grace of vocation  which God offereth to all; but besides this, the peculiar Grace of a Religious vocation doth put so much new life and strength into them, that are endued with it, that they perform with a great deal of facility, and, in a manner, with no labour at all, that, which others cannot away-with, that have not that grace, and that, which indeed themselves could not do before. For as a beast, that hath no reason, cannot perform any thing, that properly belongs to reason, as, to infer a Conclusion, to judge of a thing, to give advice, to foresee that which is to come; but Man being endued with reason, doth these things as easily as use his hands & feet: so if a man have not the vocation and spirit of God, which includeth Povertie, & Obedience, and other virtues, it is wonderful hard for him to be content to have nothing, and to yield himself over to an other's will; but if he have this vocation, he taketh great comfort in it.  

Custom of doing well.  5. Finally, besides Nature and Grace, daily practice breeds a custom and habit of doing well, which is another Nature, altogether as forcible and efficacious as Nature itself; and when it is once gotten and grounded in the mind, all virtuous actions are easy and pleasant. To which purpose S. Leo saith very well: 
S. Leo ser. 5. the 〈◊〉 7. means.  The affection, which excludeth earthly love, is strengthened by custom of doing well; because a man's conscience must necessarily take delight in good works, and willingly do that, which it is glad it hath done. Religion therefore being nothing else but a continual practice and trading in all kind of virtue, the exercise of virtue must needs grow every day easier than other, and in time, as so many goodly trees, bring forth abundant fruit, and furnish a Religious soul with plenty, and profit, and heavenly pleasure. This is the habit, which Cassian describeth in a certain place in these words, 
Cassian. Coll. 11. c. 9  to wit: When a soul is transformed into a habit of virtue, that is, when a man hath so accustomed himself unto it, and gotten so much love of it, that he thinks it the preciousest thing in the world, and takes the transgression of virtue, or the poison of sin, to be the grievousest torment that can be; when a man is come to this, he must needs take more contentment in his sober and continent life, than others do in their incontinency and riot; the flower of chastity must needs be sweeter to him, than the filth of sensual pleasure to them that are sensual; finally, he cannot but rejoice more when he is humbled, and happeneth upon an occasion of suffering for Christ, then worldly ambitious people in the applause, and glory, and preferments, which they so eagerly hunt after.  
6. Upon these and the like grounds we constantly aver, as in the beginning, that a Religious life is so far from being harsh and difficult, that it is rather wonderful sweet and pleasant. And we may add the testimony of Reginaldus a Dominican-Friar, one of the first and principal companions of S. Dominick. He was a rich wealthy man in the world, and lived daintily at ease; after he had undertaken that rigorous and painful kind of life, they that knew him before, often asked him (not without some astonishment) whether he were not mightily troubled with it; and he always answered with a cheerful hart and countenance: 
Reginaldus.  I would have you know▪ that all these things are so sweet and pleasant unto me, that often I have been grieved at hart, that I live so easily; and have thought, that I merited nothing in this life by reason of it. This was Reginaldus his answer; and many more, yea all good Religious people, if they were asked, would answer the same. I myself have heard many speak to the same effect, and complain grievously, as if they lead an idle and lazy life; whereas notwithstanding they applied themselves Religiously to those courses, which in a Secular eye, measuring all by Sense, seem so harsh and rigid.   

Of the pleasure, which is in a Religious life, by reason of the mortification of the Passions. CHAP. V.  
IF we look well into ourselves, we shall find within us a great diversity of Affections, which God hath planted in our nature for good ends, that as faithful and obedient servants, they might be ready to execute upon all occasions the commands of Reason, and be at a beck in all things Whereby we may also see, that nothing can be more unseemly or more dangerous, 
Passions are given us for good.  then to let these our Passions lose. For casting-of the yoke of Obedience, they trail a man whither they list; and rule him, that should have ruled them; as a horse without a bridle doth overrule and endanger his rider. 
Inconvenient, that Passion should rule.  For this inferior part of ours, which is the seat of anger and lust, is like to that, which is in beasts, and consequently it hath no government or wisdom in it, nor any kind of light or understanding. As therefore, if it were possible for a man to walk with his head downwards and his feet upwards, besides the incommodity, that all the filth and ordure would light presently upon his face, which is the beautifullest part of man, it would be an intolerable toil, and labour, and pain to him, to suffer that alteration, so contrary to the natural situation of his limbs; the like inconveniences do happen in our inward man, when the order, which God hath settled betwixt the superior and inferior part of our soul, is turned up-side down. Aristotle himself saw the misery of it, 
Aristot. Eth. 9 c. 14.  and describes it in these words: Vicious people cannot be at quiet within themselves, but have their minds turmoiled and distracted into several factions, as in a civil war: one part of the mind grieving at that, which it wanteth; the other rejoicing in that, which it is a shame to enjoy, and so is, as it were, disjointed & pulled hither and thither: and though no man can grieve and rejoice all at once, yet they presently grieve, because they did rejoice; and their life is always full of repentance. As therefore they, that are continually haled and haunted with these turbulent affections, as with so many furies, are extremely unhappy; so they, that are void of passion, and have all things quiet within them, must needs enjoy that incomparable peace, which surpasseth all understanding, and lead a most sweet and pleasant life.  
2. It will not be amiss to hear, 
Passionate men are most miserable people.  what one of the ancient Philosophers, and he that was the eloquentest among them, though a Heathen, doth speak in this matter. What (saith he) shall we say, when we see a man burning and raging with passionate affections, mad with unsatiable desires of every kind of thing, 
Cicero. 8. Tussal.  and the more profusely he followeth his pleasures in all things, the more tormented with fiery thirst after them? may we not justly say, he is a most miserable creature? what? he that set upon a light pin giveth himself to idle mirth and unconsiderable gestures, is he not the more unhappy, the more happy he thinks himself? As these therefore are miserable creatures, so they are happy, whom fear doth not fright, whom sorrow doth not consume, whom passions of lust do not disquiet, whom vain mirth doth not dissolve into languishing pleasures. Now if there be a man, that can abide the brunt of Fortune, and think all things tolerable, that can any way befall him in this life, and consequently is not touched with fear or grief, or moved with disordered desires, or set a-gog with some idle fancy of delight, why should we not account him happy? And if virtue be the cause of these effects, why should not virtue alone make us happy? This is that Heathen Philosopher's discourse, 
S. Aug. Ep. 121.  of which I know not what to say other, then that which S. Augustin, bringing his words upon another occasion, said of him: What do you think of these words? were they not spoken by Truth itself by whose mouth he would? 
Tit. 1.12.  And that, which the Apostle said of the Cretensian Prophet: This testimony is true.  
3. We read the like discourse in another Philosopher, who was also a Heathen, and giveth moreover this reason of his saying: 
Plutarch de Vitt. & Vit.  As health and the constant temper of our body is the ground of all the delight, which our body feels, insomuch that, when our body is distempered, we loathe the daintiest fare that is; so to the end, that we may taste the pleasures of the mind, our mind itself must be in good temper, that is, it must be void of fear, and enjoy peace and tranquillity within itself; 
The temper of our mind, is the ground of pleasure.  if this health be wanting in our mind, we shall never know, what belongs to pleasure. For though we may be put in good hope for a while, and have, as it were, a glimpse of delight; some care or other, some cross anxiety rushing upon us, will suddenly dash it, and amaze us, as mariners at sea, when sailing with a prosperous gale, unexpectedly they see themselues upon a rock. If our mind be in good order, as when we recover of a sickness, and our stomach begins to grow upon us, we relish course bread & cheese, and feed with delight upon such gross fare, though before we could not look upon the daintiest fare that was, so if a man have his mind purged of evil humours, he is always content, even in greatest want. Thou wilt be content, saith he, with thyself, if thou once know what is good and upright. Thou wilt abound in poverty, and be a king; and a private ordinary life will be as welcome unto thee, as to bear rule and be in office.  

Reli●●● composeth the humours of our mind.  4. Seeing therefore there is so much happiness, & so much pleasure to be had by healing and composing the turbulent humours of our mind, and that it is so much the more to be desired, the more agreeable it is to Nature; let us see, what helps Religious discipline doth afford towards the curing of them. First, it cutteth off the causes and occasions of them. For as Physicians prescribe abstinence from certain meats that are hurtful and breed i'll humours in a man's body; so Religion barreth all things, by which disorder may rise; for that, which S. Gregory saith, 
S. Greg. Home 27. in Euang.  that all breach of charity grows upon desire of earthly things, because others take that from us which we love, may be applied to many other things. For whensoever we break forth into passion, and fall upon others, the ground of it is the love of some earthly thing. This is the cause of strife, and debate, and branglin●s, and that we run ourselves upon the pikes, and disquiet ourselves, and ag●tieue others and the like; with which disorders the world is so much distracted and torn in pieces. Which made S. Macariu● say, 
S. Ma●ar. Hom. 5.  that the Sons of this world are like wheat in a siue or van. For being, as it were, cast into this world, as into a ●anne, they are continually tossed to and fro with unconstant thoughts, and tumbled up and down as in a tempestuous wind of earthly cares and desires. And as the corn is never at rest, but thrown now against one side, now against the other, and in continual motion; so the author of all wickedness, the Devil, doth continually molest, and trouble, and disquiet them, having once entangled them in worldly businesses, and giveth them not an hours respite. This was S. Macarius his conceit of worldly people. And S. john Chrysostome will tell us, 
S. john Chrysost. Hom. 69. in Matth.  what we are to think of those, that live in Religion. In one of his Homilies upon S. Matthew he saith, that there is as much difference betwixt the most delightful life of a Monk (for so are his words) and the pleasures of Secular people, as betwixt a quiet haven and a boisterous sea; and the ground of this felicity, which Monks enjoy, is, because avoiding the noise and distraction, which public places and markets are full of, they live where they have nothing to do with things of this world, where no human thing disquiets them, no sadness, no grief, no anxiety, no hazard, no envy, no sinful love nor any thing of this nature; but give themselves wholly to the contemplation of the Kingdom which is to come, and whatsoever leads to it. This is the first help, which Religion affords towards the alaying of the heat of our Passions.  

Two things set our passions on fire.  5. Another medicine it hath, which takes away the very root of the disease. Two things set our Passions on fire: the apprehension of good, and the apprehension of evil. For when a thing is represented unto us as good, the very apprehension, which Nature hath of a thing suitable unto it, stirs up love; if we have not the thing, love breeds desire; if we have it, it breeds content and pleasure. chose if we conceit a thing to be evil or hurtful; we hate it; hatred makes us fly from it and avoid it; if we cannot avoid it, but that it will come upon us, then comes grief and sadness. In like manner, in that part of our Appetite, which is the seat of Anger, two several motions rise upon the apprehension of good, to wit, hope and despair, two upon the apprehension of imminent evil, fear and audacity; one upon the evil which is present, to wit, anger, which differs from sadness, in respect it doth not yield to the evil, that presseth upon us, but striveth against it and resisteth it. Seeing therefore the whole troop of our Affections is lead by this one Apprehension of Good and Evil, look what apprehension or judgement we make of good and evil, such shall we find the desires and affections of our mind to be. 
Religion prevents all trouble.  Now the whole drift of Religion is to alter our apprehension from earthly things, which falsely usurp the name of good, to spiritual things, which are truly good, and indeed to rid us wholly of them, and free our hands from them, to the end we may attend the more perfectly to the pursuit and purchase of that, which is spiritual only; which whosoever doth compass, doth as it were at one blow cutof all the roots and strings, that feed Passion. For what should trouble a man, that is thus settled? what shall he need to be afraid of? least his merchandise perish by shipwreck? or his corn & wine by hail? or his son dye under age? or least men be offended with him? or he lose the favour of his Prince? He hath voluntarily stolen himself from all these things, 
The difference betwixt temporal and spiritual things.  and consequently prevented all▪ such casualties, and made himself impregnable for whatsoever assault of Fortune.  
6. Finally, there is this main difference betwixt temporal and spiritual things. Temporal things are easily lost, and subject to infinite casualties; and therefore the getting of them, and the holding, are always full of endless care and anguish: Spiritual things are given us by God; & no power upon earth nor in hell can take them from us against our will; and consequently they that trade in them, live void of all fear, saving that which the Prophet calleth a holy fear, which keepeth us always in subjection to God, acknowledging his infinite power over us; and this fear is not only quiet and peaceable, but (which a man would wonder at) increaseth confidence and security.  
7. The endeavour of every Religious man in particular together with the assistance of his governors and Superiors, is moreover no small help to the rooting-out of all disordered motions; specially being a thing, which every one doth apply himself with fervour unto, as the chief exercise and exploit, in which he is to play his prize. And what shall I say of the honour and pleasure, which a man finds in following of Virtue? or of the joys of spirit, and that most sweet repast of mind, which we enjoy by conversing with God▪ Which from the Mind diffused into Sense, doth so satisfy the hunger thereof with food of a higher nature, that it loatheth ever after all ordinary and vulgar meats. Finally sobriety and moderation in diet and apparel helpeth to the ordering of our Passions. For as fullness of meat, and drink, and dainty fare doth dead the spirit, and quicken sense; so sobriety tames that part of us, which gapes after pleasure, and makes it not so forward to kick; as a beast, that is abridged of his oats, 
S. Basil. de abdicat. ●●.  is the tamer by it; and the other part, which is the seat of Reason and counsel, is the more quick and able; both which S. Basil expresseth in these words: As a fountain of water drained into several branches, makes the land, through which it runs, fertile and fresh; so if the vice of gluttony spreading itself through the veins of our hart, and running from thence, water all our senses, it must needs turn our souls into a wood of lustful desires, and make it a receptacle of wild beasts.  
7. These be the helps, by which Religion brings a Soul to that quiet state of mind we speak of; and composing and keeping down our Passions, delivers the command and rule into the hands of Reason, 
Es 327.1.  which only ought to rule; and Reason free from the violence and encumbrance of them, is willingly subject to the will of God, and consequently, as in a wel-ordered family, there is no dissension, no discord, no contradiction; but every one attendeth to his office, and performeth his duty with ease and diligence. Who therefore can doubt, but such a Soul so ordered, is in a most happy and most delightful state, tasting upon earth the first fruits of the Celestial habitation, where every thing shall be brought to a most perfect peace and concord? Which I take to be that peace, and that sitting at rest and quiet, and that inward silence, which is promised by the Prophet Esay to Virtue by the general name of justice, which gives every one his due. For no State doth so perfectly give every one his due as Religion, giving, and restoring, and perfectly subiecting us to God, whose we are all of us by right, as I showed elsewhere. And the work of justice, saith he, shall be peace; and the performance of justice, silence and security for ever. And my people shall sit in the beauty of peace, and in tabernacles of con●idence, and in a quiet full of wealth. What doth man desire more than rest and quiet? not that rest which is idle and unfruitful, store whereof we see in idle people of the world; but such as is wealthy, and profitable, and furnished with all spiritual commodities; as the holy Prophet describeth it.   

Of the pleasure, which Religious people take in Prayer. CHAP. VI  
TO the delights, which we have hitherto spoken of, we may add the comfort of Prayer and Meditation, which taketh-up great part of a Religious life. How great the sweetness of it is, and how properly Religion may be said to be the true seat of it, 
E●s. 56.6.  Esay the Prophet will tell us, comprising both in these few words: The sons of the stranger, who adhere to our Lord to worship him, and love his name, and to be his servants, every one that keepeth the Sabbaoth, lest he pollute it, and observeth my Covenant; I will bring them to my holy hill, and make them joyful in the house of my prayer; their Holocausts and their Sacrifices shall please me upon my Altar, because my house shall be called the house of prayer to all people. This is the large promise of the holy-ghost, which not only for the inward sense, but even for the outward sound of the words doth so properly agree to every Religious person, that we may spare to interpret it further, 
S. Augustin 18. de Civit. c. 28.  lest (as S. Augustin saith in a certain place upon the like occasion) 〈◊〉 dead the savour of the Prophetical speech. And what wonders is it, that God showing his Prophets his Church, that was to come, should withal show them so long-before the beauty of a Religious course, which is so noble a part of the Church?  
2. First therefore the name of Strangers doth fitly suit with them; 
Religious people strangers in thi● world.  because they have nothing in the world of their own, but, as pilgrims, use it as if they did not use it; they have no permanent city of abode, but seek that which is to come; they adhere to our Lord, being fastened unto him with the strong and indissoluble bond of their Vow; and are truly his servants, and so styled by all, because they live continually in his service, and their glory is, to be called as they are; they offer unto him Holocausts and Sacrifices, and that often, because they offer themselves wholly; and they keep his Sabbaoth, living, not lazily without profit to themselves or others, as the people of the world oftimes do, but a quiet and retired life full of holiness and devotion, keeping holie-day from the works of the earth, and bestowing themselves wholly in the contemplation and love of God.  
3. Now why may not Religion be called also the House of Prayer, 
Religion the House of prayer.  which God doth so much honour as to style it His House; seeing it requireth so much exercise of prayer, and affordeth so much commodity of performing it, as it ought to be performed? For first Religion riddeth us of all outward care not only of following husbandry, or trading in merchandise and such like negotiations of greater consequence, but of those, which are of less note, as the care of household-busines, education of children, finally of al. These are the banes of Meditation and Contemplation, not only because they take up all our time, but much more because they stir up so many passions of anger, and fear, and sadness, according to the several events which happen. These Passions partly disquiet our mind, that it can settle to nothing, and consequently absolutely hinder Contemplation; partly they do so overwhelm it, that they dead our spirits, and suck-out all the juice, which is in us. For that, 
〈…〉 9 c. 3.  which Abbot Isaac (a great man) in Cassian doth deliver, cannot be denied: to wit, that to pray well, it is necessary universally to cutof all care of carnal things (for so he speaketh) Secondly, that we do not only shot out care, but the very memory of all kind of business; thirdly we must cut off all detraction, multiplicity of idle words, and, above all, the passions of anger and sadness; finally, utterly roote-out the remainder and occasion of avarice and carnal concupiscence. Which if it be true, certainly the true exercise of prayer is as rare in the world, as these hindrances and inconveniences are frequent in it; and chose in Religion it is easy to practise it; because the state itself hath already barred all these impediments.  

Other helps of Prayer: as, Chastity.  4 Moreover Chastity and a single life is a great help to Prayer; which in reason every body may see to be true, and the Apostle saith it, commending Virginity and a single life; because (as he speaketh) it gives a man leave to pray to our Lord without hindrance. The reason whereof among others, as I take it, 
1. Cor. 7.35.  is, because as our mind grows lumpish, and beareth always downwards to base and earthly things, by the use of corporal pleasure: so by continency it becomes light and quick, and able, as it were with certain wings, to life itself up to God; the purity, which is in itself, furthering the conjunction of it to that purity, 
Humility & Poverty.  which is God. The humility also of so poor an estate, and so far from all human glory, is a special disposition to Prayer. For as we read of our Saviour, that in his life-time he lovingly embraced the little ones, that were brought unto him, and checked his Disciples that would have forbidden them, saying: Let the littleones come to me; for of such is the Kingdom of heaven. 
Matth. 19.141  So we have just cause to think, that he practiseth the same now in heaven; and converseth familiarly with such as be little. For if he made so much demonstration of love towards them, that had nothing humble in them, but the tenderness of their age, how much greater signs of love will he show to them, that have voluntarily humbled themselves, and brought themselves to that excess of Poverty and mean estate, which the Religious live in? So that for these and many other reasons there can be no doubt, but that Religion is the House of Prayer, that is, the most commodious, and most convenient place that can be, to exercise our mind in prayer, and continue our thoughts in contemplation of heavenly things.  

The delight which comes of Prayer.  5. Now to speak of the delight and pleasure, which is in this noble Exercise, God expresseth it in the words following: I will make them joyful in the house of my prayer. He makes himself the author of this joy, and truly he is so; because it proceeds from him, and is of him. It proceeds from him, because he infuseth it into our souls, the beams of his light shine upon us, his holiness and his inspirations fall upon our hearts. It is of him, because there is nothing else before our eyes to cause this joy; neither can so great joy and contentment rise but of God. So that we find S. Bernard's saying to be true: 
S Bernard s●r 18 in Cant.  By prayer we drink the wine that rejoiceth the hart; the wine of spirit, which maketh us drunk, and bringeth oblivion of carnal pleasure; And S. Augustin's: The tears of them that pray, are sweeter than the joys of them that go to plays. 
S. Augustin in Ps. 12●.  S. Francis was often wont to commend spiritual mirth and cheerfulness to his Religious, as a special defence against the temptations of the Devil; 
S. Francis.  and said, that the ground of this cheerfulness was purity of mind, and that it was to be purchased by good works, but chiefly by Prayer; and therefore whensoever we find a storm of sadness come upon us, we should betake ourselves to prayer, as to a harbour or quiet haven. And certainly if we find so much delight in conversing with men of learning and wisdom, that we can spend whole days with them to our great contentment and satisfaction; what shall we think of the communication and conversation, which we may have continually with the holy Angels, to whom we are so many ways obliged for their charity & care over us? or with the other Saints of Heaven, that know by experience, what it is to carry this burden of flesh with which we are loaded? or with the Queen of Saints and Angels, than whom under God there is nothing in this world more beautiful, nothing that thought or affection can fix itself upon, with more delight and sweetness?  
6. What shall I say of GOD himself? First, the infiniteness of his Nature, 
The delight, which is in thinking of God.  his endless Goodness, Power, and all things of excessive perfection contained in it, affordeth a Soul a boundless scope to walk in; and walking without end, it cannot but be absorbed in a bottomless depth of delight. From thence again reflecting upon the consideration of the benefits, which God hath poured forth upon us, either out of the superabundant bounty of his love and good will, or out of the natural inclination, as I may say, which he hath to liberality; and much more upon those, in which so great a Majesty hath taken so much pains for our sakes; calling to mind his sorrows, his torments, the manger, his poverty, his whipping, his crown of thorns, his Cross, and pondering every thing with attention, and seizing upon them in contemplation, as upon an infinite treasure of wealth and riches now belonging to ourselves, and made to our use; what joy, what gladness, what contentment must a Soul needs take in it? This causeth a fountain of tears to gush forth from our eyes, this melts us into a most sweet vein of weeping, this maketh our hart to leap for joy within us, and diffuseth itself to our very flesh; beholding such infinite testimonies of the Divine love towards us, which of itself is enough to ravish us with delight; and again tasting so many ways of the fruits of this love, by his heavenly care and providence over us, grace in this life, and assured hope of eternal bliss in the life to come. And though we lay aside the consideration of the profit, which comes unto us, the very approaching to God by prayer and communication with him, is a thing of another world. For as they, that come near the fire, grow warm by the heat of it, and whatsoever is mingled with honey, doth taste of the sweetness of honey; so whosoever conjoineth himself with God, and, as I may say, plungeth himself into the fountain of all goodness and happiness, must needs by in great measure happy; as we read in the holy Scripture, that Moses by the communication, 
Ex. 34.15.  which he held with God, received so much light inwardly in his mind, that it was seen in his face, as two horns in his forehead.  
7. These be the incomparable delights and dainties, which the servants of God enjoy, and the daily food where with they are fattened; that we may not wonder, if full of this spiritual marrow and fatness, they be so strong and able, and compass so great works in matter of virtue and the service of God, with ease. 
S. Antony.  This enabled S. Antony so far, that, as it is recorded of him, oftentimes beginning his prayer at the shutting-in of the evening, he was found at break-of-day in the same posture; complaining of the light, that it rose too early. We read almost the same of Arsenius, 
Arsenius.  that setting himself to his prayer in the evening, and leaving the sun behind him going down, never stirred till in the morning the sun shined again in his face. 
Sy●uanus.  Syluanus was ever wont to keep his eyes shut, after he had been long at his prayers, that coming, as be said, from the wonderful sight of heavenly things, he might not be troubled with the deformity of earthly objects. 
S Francis.  What shall we say of S. Francis, who was sometimes lifted up from the ground to a man's height, sometimes as high as the tops of trees, often also as high as the clouds? Or of others without number, whose ecstasies, and rapts, and long prayers are full of such like miracles? Of which kind we might find plenty in our days, if it were not from our purpose to stand rehearsing them al. And we that are of the many, and cannot look for such extraordinary favours at God's hands, yet in the very mediocrity, which he is pleased to impart unto us, find so much sweetness, that the little, 
Ps. 1●. 11.  which we enjoy, is desireful above gold and precious stone, and sweets than home and the home-combe.   

Of many other spiritual delights, which Religious people enjoy. CHAP. VII.  

The comforts of a Religious life concealed; and shy?  IT is recorded of S. Laurence justinian (of whose sanctity and wisdom we have had often occasion to speak) that he was wont to say in commendation of a Religious life, among other things; that God hath of purpose concealed and hidden the pleasure of it; because if men did know what it was, they would not be able to stay themselves from running to it, 
S Laurence justinian.  and the world be wholly dispeopled.  
2. This testimony of so great a man is the more weighty, because he spoke of his own experience in commendation of the life, in which he had been bred up, and continued from his youth, and was a man of so great a wit, and, which is the principal, so abundantly furnished with the light of Grace, that his verdict must needs be of great authority; though he is not alone of this opinion; for all men concur in the same, and they most of all, that have most constantly & with most fervour followed this course of life. 
Palla●●●s in Lausinum 32 Apollo.  Palladius relateth of Apollo, who was a famous man among the ancient heremites, that having five hundred disciples, he was wont to bid them to be always cheerful and merry; And a man should not meet upon earth such mirth and exultation as was continually among them. For he said, it was an unseemly thing for any of them to be sad and heavy, 
S. Anton. 2. p 5.15. c. 10.  that had such assured hopes of eternal happiness. The Infidels, and jews, and wicked Christians might with reason be truly sorrowful; but the servants of God should always rejoice. For if people, that traffic in earthly things, rejoice in them; why should not Religious people, that are in present possession of so many good things▪ and do so certainly hope for the happiness of the life to come, be in perpetual gladness? This was the saying of that ancient Father; and he said true.  
3. For first in this state people have the comfort of a good Conscience, 
Religious people must be always cheerful.  which, if things go well with us, doth much increase our joy; if they happen cross as sometimes perhaps they will, it is a great solace unto us, and in fine giveth life to all the hours a Religious man doth live. For a good Conscience is, as it were, a Master or Tutor, that standeth at our elbow, both in regard of the light belonging unto it, which without much ad●e easily discerneth good from evil, just from that which is unjust; and in regard of the propension, which it gives to our will, to love that which is good, and to shun that, which appears to be evil; so that whosoever resisteth this light, and this inclination or propension, must needs be in continual torment and vexation; whosoever goeth with it & obeyeth it, 
S. john Chrysostome hom. 63. ad Pop.  lives in joy and comfort. This we have out of S. john Chrysostom, who speaketh thus; Though there be some pains to be taken in the practice of virtue, yet it sils a man's conscience with a great deal of pleasure, and brings so much inward delight with it, that it cannot be expressed in words. For what is delightful in things present? a board well furnished? health of body? riches? But all the sweetness that is in any of these, is bitter, compared with that delight. For nothing is more pleasant than a good Conscience, and good hope.  
4. And this contentment of a good Conscience, which according to S. john Chrysostom is so full of sweetness, is not alone in Religion, but bringeth many other pleasures with it; which S. Macarius speaking of this very abundance of spiritual comforts in one of his Homilies setteth forth in lively colours, 
S. Macarius hom. de gau●●● Spiritus.  and saith thus: It fareth with the servants of God sometimes, as with them, that sit at a Prince's table royally setforth with all kinds of choice meats, and there they exult with a gladness, which no man can come near to express in words, and with admirable satiety and contentment. Sometimes they are like a bride melting with unconceavable heavenly delight in the arms of God their Spouse. Sometimes they are like Angels, that have no bodies, & arrive to such a lightness and freedom, that the weight of their body troubleth them no more, then if they had none at al. Sometimes they are so full of pleasure, as if they had drunk largely of the best wine that is; and are even drunk with a holy drunkenness of Divine mysteries, & are not sensible of any thing that passeth in this life Sometimes they are like mourners, lamenting the miseries of mankind, pouring forth their prayers to God for the salvation thereof, ready to lay down their own life and soul at stake, for the good of others. Sometimes they do so burn with this spiritual love of their Neighbour, that, if it were possible, they would hide all men, good and bad, within their bowels. Again at other times they cast themselves so far under all men's feet, through humility of spirit, that they make account they are the least, and the lowest, and the worst of all men in the world. chose sometimes they resemble a stout warrior, that gathering his weapons to him, goeth of his own accord into the field, and valiantly encountreth his enemies. Ofttimes their soul reposeth in profound silence, enjoying most sweet and quiet peace, and taking unspeakable delight in it. Finally oftimes their mind is so cleared by the gift of the holy-ghost, which we call Understanding and Wisdom, that in an instant it conceiveth things, which no tongue can express. All this is out of S. Macarius.  
5. How rare and admirable therefore must that course of life needs be, which swimmeth in all these delights, and is served with joy after joy, and contentment after contentment, as a sumptuous banquet with dish after dish? Which the Prophet David deservedly admireth in these words: 
Ps. ●0. 20.  How great is the multitude of thy sweetness, o Lord, which thou hast hidden for these that sent thee? It is great, but hidden, and known to them only, that truly fear God. And they are in a great error that think, that they that vow themselves to God, provide well for the good and safety of their Souls, but buy this safety at a high rate of excessive toil. 
The journey of spirit delightful.  For it is not so; this spiritual journey hath also pleasure with it; and greater pleasure, than flesh and blood is capable of; and conformably thereunto nothing is more often repeated in holy Writ, or more seriously inculcated. Light (saith David) arose to the lust, and gladness to the upright of hart; 
Ps 96.11. Ps. 118.103. Ps. 117.15. Ps 67.4. Ps. 34.9. Ps. 35.9.  as who should say: That is true gladness, which riseth of the light of our mind, and the uprightness of our hart. And again: How sweet are thy speeches to my taws, above honey to my mouth! And: A 〈◊〉 of exultation and health in the tabernacles of the Iust. Let the just make feasts and exult in the sight of God. My soul that exult in our Lord, and delight in the Saviour thereof; all my bones shall say: Lord, who is like to thee? But he comes most near unto us, and speaketh in a manner particularly to us, that dwell in the House of God, when he saith: They shall be drunk of the plenty of thy House, and thou wilt make them drink of the torrent of thy pleasure. He calls it a Torrent, in regard of the plenty; and because the source of it is not in the earth, but in heaven, and rain down abundantly from about. He likeneth it to drunkenness; because they that are silled with these comforts, like people that are drunk, have not only perfectly drowned and quenched their thirst, but see not the things, which are upon earth, or at leastwise take no heed to that, which is before their eyes, and inwardly burn with a spiritual fire and fervour, 
Ps ●●. 3.  putting them upon many actions, which others perhaps may think foolish or impertinent. The Prophet Esay speaketh to the same effect in diverse places, and particularly when he saith: I will put the desert thereof as delight, and the solitude as a garden of our Lord. 〈◊〉 and gladness shall be found in it, thanksgiving and a voice of praise. A happy Desert, wherein so much joy aboundeth! And what can this Desert or solitude be more truly thought to be, than Religion, which is a place severed from company, from honour, riches, and all worldly commodities?  

Other 〈…〉 pleasant.  6. Finding this and much more in holy Writ, which can not deceive us, though we could not feel any thing of it by experience, it should be notwithstanding sufficient to make us believe it more certainly and more undoubtedly than any thing which we see with our eyes, or touch with our hands; because our senses may deceive us, the Word of God can not. And yet we may strengthen this, which we have said, by consideration of the natural disposition, as I may say, of God, and his infinite goodness; which having showed itself so far, as to make him come down from heaven, and suffer himself to be bound to a pillar, and whipped, and crowned with thorns, and nailed upon a Cross for his enemies, what will he not do for his friends? what will he not do for his children? specially the first costing him his life and blood, whereas in affording these comforts, he is to be at no labour, nor to suffer the least blemish of any happiness belonging unto him. So that there can be no doubt, but that his infinite bounty will be always liberal towards his servants, according to his wont custom and good Nature.  
7. What trouble therefore can there be in this life so great, which these comforts will not sweeten? or what infirmity so weak as not to be fully strengthened by these heavenly gifts? or what other thing so hard and harsh to man, 
S. Bernard serm. Ecce nos.  which seasoned with these delights, will not have a dainty relish and easy digestion? S. Bernard said well in a long and eloquent Sermon, which he made of the happiness of Religious people: It was part of the liberality of God, not only to lay before us the reward of eternal life, but to promise us spiritual joys even in this life. For so also the workmen of this world are wont to have their meat at their work, and their hire in the end. In like manner soldiers receive their pay, because their labour requires it; and at last they are rewarded with a larger Donative, according to the measure of their labours. So the Children of Israel, till they entered upon the Land of Promise, 
Sap. 10.17.  wanted not their Manna in the Desert. This double promise is evidently also expressed by the Prophet, when he saith: God will repay the reward of their labours; and lead them in a wonderful way. This way is the way of the testimonies (of the Commandments) of God; 
Ps. 118.14.  wherein another Prophet testifieth, that he delighted as in all the riches of the world.  
8. We have many examples, 
Examples of these delights.  which prove this abundance of spiritual comfort, of which we are speaking. Cassian relateth, that a holy Abbot, ●amed john, was wont to be filled with such wonderful inward sweetness, that he did not remember, 
Cass. Coll. 19 c. 4.  whether he had eaten any thing the day before. Blessed Ephrem finding his hart ready to burst with heavenly joy, 
Ephrem.  was wont to cry out: Depart from me, o Lord, a little; because the weakness of this vessel is not able to abide it. 
S. Bernard.  S. Bernard was so absorbed with the like joys, that riding all day long by the side of a lake, he did not mark, that there was any such thing; and living a whole year in a Celle, did not know, whether it were open at top or no. And it is so ordinary to read of this kind of fruits in those days, that we way spare a labour of rehearsing them. Neither is our Age barren of them; or can they indeed be wanting in any, because God never loseth of his bounty and liberality, which is the stock from which they grow; though they may perhaps not be so apparent, because they are fresh, and people be yet alive, and consequently their actions have not that authority, which Antiquity affordeth.  
9 They that were inward with our Father and Founder S. Ignatius, 
S. Ignatius Riba●. l. 5. c. 1.  report of him, that he had such continual abundance of spiritual tears, that his eyes decaying with it, he almost lost his sight; and had doubtless utterly lost it, but that upon advice of Physicians and request of some of his Company, he obtained of God the savour to have them as it were at command, to give them scope, or restrain them, as he thought good.  

S Xantrius. 〈◊〉. 4. c. 7.  10. S. Francis Xavier was often seen to lay his hands upon his breast, & with his eyes lifted up to heaven, out of the abundance of heavenly comfort, to cry out: It is enough, O Lord, it is enough; as if he could bear no more, as we said of S. Ephrem. And when he was in journey, which he always made on foot, his mind was so fixed and absorbed in God, that going out of his way, he often went upon thorns, and briars, and stones, and heeded it not; and by reason of it, his feet and his legs were always bloody, and full of mattery sores; and he notwithstanding did not feel it. And of my own knowledge, I know many of this our Society, and have heard of more, that have been so familiar with God, that they have lived perpetually in these kinds of comforts and joys; & could name them, but that I have a custom (and mean to hold it) to name no man, while he is alive. But these favours are extraordinary; and doubtless happen not to al.  

Ordinary comforts.  11. There be other great comforts, and of great value, which are ordinary, & very frequent, or rather daily, and may be and are obtained by following the common and ordinary manner of a Religious life, as being grounded in purity of hart, & the practice of virtue, & mortification, which are the daily exercises of Religion. For as the Sun communicateth his light to every thing, according to the disposition, which it findeth in the thing itself; if the air be pure, it filleth it full of light; if it be cloudy & full of mists, it doth not therefore leave it wholly destitute of light, but gives it so much, as the grossness of the air will admit of, and pierceth into a house by the passages & chinks, which it finds, as far as the chinks will give it leave: In like manner God dealeth with us, his nature being no less inclinable to do good, than the Sun to give light. To great men, where he findeth no hindrance, he communicateth himself largely & fully; others, that are not yet perfect, but have certain clouds within them, he doth not wholly forsake or neglect, but giveth them so much right, as is proportionable to their capacity. So that though our weakness come far sho●● of the height, to which the Saints are arrived, yet God stooping to out infirmity, never suffereth them that follow him, 
joan 6.  as I said before, into the Desert, to go away fasting, lest they saint by the way, but filleth them in such abundance, that many chests of fragments remain. And these comforts and joys of themselves are so great, that the least drop of them is able to extinguish all feeling and desire of worldly comfort.  

Religious people have pleasure in temporal things also.  12. And thus much of the multiplicity of delight, which the use of spiritual things affords Religious people, which is the principal; and yet they are not altogether debarred of pleasure in temporal things; yea oftimes they are so full of contentment in them, that worldly people have not more, though they be never so greedy of them, & run headlong after them. I speak not of fleshly delights, or those which cannot be had without sin; for no man in his right ●●its can place true contentment in them, the first being beastly, and the second bringing a remorse, which alone tormenteth a man more, than all the rest, which is in them, can give him ease. Setting therefore these aside, and speaking of a man, as he is truly Man, that is, of one that governeth himself by reason, I may truly say, that spiritual men take more contentment in the things of this world, than any carnal people whatsoever. For carnal people set their hearts wholly upon that, which is the least and meanest in every creature, to wit, upon the outside of it only; and following that, inordinately and too too greedily, what do they but that which S. Augustin confesseth of himself? 
S Aug 10 〈◊〉 c. 17.  They cast themselves deformedly upon the beautieful things, which God created. But spiritual men proceed far after another fashion, and take another way more apt to breed contentment. 
S. 〈…〉.  And we may declare it by that, which S. Bonaventure writeth of S. Francis; for thus he speaketh of him: He took an incredible delight in the creatures themselves, and was wont to exult in them, beholding them all as the works of God; and, as it were, drinking of the fountain of his infinite goodness in the streams of these several things that run from him, and considering the natures, and qualities, and effects, which God hath bestowed upon every one of them, together with the order, and connexion, and beauty, wherein they are ranked and set forth, it was like a heavenly harmony and consort of Music to the ears of his soul, & in the beautifulness of them he did acknowledge and love God, who is above all things beautiful. This was the manner, which S. Francis held, and all do imitate him, that have not eyes only in their body, as a horse and a mule, who have no understanding, but make use of the eyes of their mind.  
13. Now how far this delight doth surpass that, which ignorant and carnal people take, 
S. Cypr. Ser. de Sp●ct●●.  S. Cyprian will tell us, if we give care unto him; for he useth this very argument to persuade people from going to stageplayss: A Christian, saith he, hath better sights to behold, if he will: he hath delights, which are holy and truly profitable, if he be think himself; and to omit those, which he cannot yet behold, he hath the beauty of this world, which he may worthily stand to consider and admire. He may behold the rising of the Sun, and again the setting, the vicissitude whereof maketh day & night; the sphere of the Moon, marking-out the times by continual increase and decrease; the multitude of glittering stars; and the parts of the year divided by several changes. And so discourseth at large of the wonderful works of God in Nature, showing how a Christian may take much more contentment by contemplating these things, than any man can do in beholding a play or any such idle trifle, wherewith the vulgar is so much lead away. So that if we lay all these things together, the outward and the inward contentments, those that are spiritual belonging to the mind, & those which I spoke off last belonging to the body, it is evident, that nothing can be more delightful than a Religious life, where every thing is so full of joy, and the pleasures thereof so interlaced one with another, and so continual, and withal so real and solid, and (as S. Cyprian speaketh) so beneficial, one overtaking another, and most commonly at one and the selfsame time, one following upon the nick of another, that we may well think, that our Saviour makes his word good in it, 
Io. 10. 1●  when he said: He came to the end his Elect might have life, and have more abundantly, that is, a more delightful and more contented life, and more full of pleasure, than worldlings themselves.   

Of the contentment, which Religious people take in Poverty. CHAP. VIII.  
THere want not other fountains of pleasure in Religion; and among them we may justly reckon Poverty; howsoever it may seem a Paradox to them, that (to use the words of the Prophet David) call the people happy, 
Psal. 143.  that abound in temporal things, and have many sons and daughters very fair and beautiful, multitudes of flocks of fruitful sheep, granaries so full that they need to be emptied one into another. These people in the vogue of the world are accounted happy; but the holy Prophet instantly correcteth this error, and showeth us a truer and a better happiness: Blessed is the people, 
Who are truly happy.  whose Lord is their God. And who is there but will grant, that Religious people have God for their Lord and Sovereign, and serve him alone so entirely, that they acknowledge no other Lord but him? And they are indeed a People, because they serve not God apart, but associated together with certain laws and rules, and in one place, with all things common among them, the number of them makes a family, and, as it were, a nation of people. To this people therefore we may also fitly apply that, which the same Prophet saith in another place: 
Ps 18.16.  Blessed is the people, that knoweth jubilation. For whereas there be diverse other spiritual Souls, that abound with heavenly comfort and sweetness, and in their secret retirements enjoy their delights by themselves; Religious people dwelling together, are as a multitude that liveth in perpetual exultation, and the concurrence of so many joyful Souls doubles their jubilation.  

It is a happiness to have nothing.  2. Blessed therefore is this people, though it have none of that temporal wealth, wherein the world placeth so much happiness; yea the more blessed, because it hath it not; for withal it is free from the infinite troubles and molestations, which wait upon the abundance of worldly wealth; and they that by the light of God's grace can discover that, which is inward, do plainly see, that one chief happiness of Poverty is, to be free from the unfortunate goods of Fortune. S. Gregory understanding this very well, applied that place of holy job (When he shall be filled, 
Io● 20.22.  he shall be straightened; he shall be in perplexity, and every grief shall rush upon him) to a wealthy man, that hath his fill of every kind of worldly thing, 
S Greg. 〈…〉  and lives in all abundance. For first, saith S. Gregory, he had sorrow in the tediousness of his desires, how he might compass his intentions, how he might come by some things by f●re means, and some by fowl. When he hath his desire by possessing the thin●s desired, than another grief vexeth him: he is solicitous and fearful how he may keep that, which he knows he purchased with a great deal of labour. He is jealous or every body, and suspicious of deceit, fearing that he may suffer by another, that which he did to others. If he see a man more powerful than himself, he fears he may oppress him. If he see a poor man, he suspects him for a thief; and it is no small care which he hath, lest the things themselves, which he hath gathered, waste of their own nature, and by want of looking-to; and in all things fear itself being a torment, he miserably suffers, whatsoever he fears he may suffer. Thus spoke S. Gregory very truly, judiciously observing, that though there were no danger from abroad to be feared, that which is intrinsical and inbred in the very nature of every temporal thing, can never be wanting, to wit, that things of themselves grow old and go to decay, and cannot be preserved without excessive care, but are like a house, that is continually panching, unless a man be always underpropping and bolstering it up, and have his eye and care perpetually upon it. And consequently the more wealth we heap together, the more we increase with pain and solicitude; and the very solicitude and labour about it, bereaves us quite of the joy, which is imagined in it. It is therefore no small happiness and comfort, to be free from so many vexations, specially about things, which in themselves are so base, and indeed unprofitable.  
3. Secular people themselves, and the greatest lovers of worldly wealth among them, confess that to be rich, is full of trouble, but will needs persuade us, that the trouble is abundantly recompensed by the many commodities and pleasures, which wealth doth bring with it. Let us therefore see, what kind of compensation this is. 
The end and use of mercy.  If we look into the grounds of Nature, as we ought, whatsoever is in the world, was made for the maintenance of man, to furnish him with meat, drink, cloth, houseroom, and the like. As for money, the use of it of itself is impertinent to this purpose, 
Arist 1. 〈◊〉 c. ●.  but was introduced merely for the easier exchange of things necessary for sustenance, that (as Aristotle observeth) he that hath plenty of one thing, might with his money purchase some others, which he hath not. So that money being a bare instrument for the getting of necessaries, and, as it were, a supply, where they are wanting, it must needs follow, that there can be no other end or use of having it, then that, for which we use all other natural things, to wit, for our bodily sustenance; that which is beyond this, 
Nature 〈…〉  is disordered, and superfluous, and unprofitable and in very deed a burden. For Nature is content with a few ordinary things; and if we will follow the rule, and exigent, and measure, which Nature prescribes, it will be very easy, not only to bring the desires thereof within compass, and furnish the necessities of it, but to satisfy it, and, as I may say, to glut it. In witness whereof I shall not need to bring a Simeon Styl●●es, or Arsenius, or some Macarius, whose lives may perhaps seem tootoo austere and rigid to imitate; but we will hear, 
Seneca Ep. 120.  what a Heathen Philosopher discourseth advisedly to this purpose, and very truly. I will not have you, saith he, deny Nature any thing. It is stubborn, and cannot be overcome, but will have his own. But yet know, that whatsoever is over and above nature, is of courtesy, and not necessary. I am hungry; I must eat; but whether the bread, which I eat, be course or fine, belongeth not to nature. Nature desires the belly may be filled; not that it be pleased. I am thirsty; Nature regardeth not, whether the water, which I drink, be taken out of the next pond, or passed through a great deal of snow to temper it with a foreign coolness. Nature requireth only that my thirst be quenched: It importeth not, whether I drink in a cup of gold, or crystal, or glass, or in the hollow of my hand. If hunger call upon me, I reach to that, which is next at hand. Hunger gives a relish to any thing, that I lay hands on. He that is hungry, refuseth nothing.  

S. Hierome.  4. S. Hierome in his second Book against jovinian speaketh to the same effect in these words: And that which a man may justly wonder at, Epicure, the chief upholder of Pleasure, filleth all his books with herbs and fruits, and teacheth a man to live upon gross meats, because it is an excessive trouble and misery, to provide flesh and curious fare; and the care of providing it, overswayeth the pleasure which is in feeding largely upon it, whereas our body requires barely meat and drink; and it is not possible to attend to the study of wisdom, and busy our thoughts with a table wel-furnished, and with the trouble and care of providing it. The necessities of Nature may be supplied with any kind of meat. Cold and hunger are driven away with ordinary food and clothing. Whereupon the Apostle saith: Having food and clothing, let us be content therewith. dainties and choice of curious dishes are nourishers of avarice. It is an excessive comfort to a Soul, to be contented with a little, and tread the world under foot, to exchange the power, and dainties, and pleasures thereof (for which, riches are so greedily sought after) with course fare and a poor garment, and think itself well rewarded with it. Take away excess of bancketting and lust, and no man will seek to be rich. Behold how S. Hierome teacheth us to make Poverty sweet, by rooting-out the desire of delicacies and disorder.  
5. And seeing the cause of Poverty dependeth upon this string, it will not be amiss to consider, how little these earthly dainties are to be esteemed, or rather how full they are of gall and bitterness, seem they never so sweet and savoury to Sense. 
S. john Chrysost de 〈…〉.  S. john Chrysostome in the Book, which he wrote of Virginity, hath a large and eloquent discourse of this subject, wherein he showeth, that abundance of good meat and drink brings surfeits, choliks, shortness of breath, gyddines of the head, and diverse other troublesome affections presently, and in time, the gout, hectic fevers, falling-sickness, palsy and the like diseases, which are so intolerable; that so small and so short a pleasure, as is the pleasing of our palate, cannot in any reason be bought at so dear a rate. Frugality on the other side brings health, and preserves it, and is not subject to those mischiefs, whereof any one is able to dead all the pleasure, which can be apprehended in them. And he proveth further, that though none of these evils were to be feared, there is yet more pleasure in Poverty then in riches; which indeed is contrary to the common apprehension; 
 yet both here and in another Homily of his, he layeth it down so clearly, that he puts it out of all question. There is one thing, saith he, wherein riches seem to have the better of poverty, to wit, that they that are rich, swim daily in delights, and have their fill of all kind of pleasure in their banckets; but the tables of the poor have this also in a far better manner. For it is not (saith S. john Chrysostome) the quality of the meat, but the disposition of the people, that brings contentment in banckets. If a man come hungry to table, any ordinary dish will please him better, than your rare compounds and exquisite sauces: whereas they, that sit down before they be hungry, as usually rich people do, though they have very dainty fare before them, they find no taste in it, because their stomach is not in order for it; which both experience teacheth, and holy Scripture also in these words: 
Pr. 27.7.  A soul, that is full, will tread upon the honiecombe; and a hungry soul will take bitter for sweet. And that which we say of meat, holds in drink. For as hunger is better than any sauce for meat, so thirst giveth a relish to any kind of drink, though it be but a cup of fair water. Which the Royal Prophet insinuateth, 
Ps. 80.17.  when he saith: And he filled them with ●onie out of the rock; for Moses did not strike honey out of the rock, but the Children of Israel were at that time so thirsty, that the water, which they then happened upon, seemed sweeter than any honey. The like may be said of sleep; for it is not the soft bed, nor the guilded bedsteed, nor the silence about us, nor any thing of this nature, that brings us asleep, but through labour & weariness, wanting it we are half asleep, before we lie down; to which purpose Solomon saith: 
Eccl. 6. iux. 70. S Basil. Const. Mon. 27.  Sleep is welcome to a servant, whether he eat little or much. This is S. john Chrysostome's discourse of Poverty in general. S. Basil speaking particularly of Religious people, saith, that they feed upon their little pittance of course fare with more delight, then secular people do upon their great services and abundance of all kinds of dainty dishes.  
6. Finally, it is worth consideration, that no man seeks to be rich, because he loves riches barely for themselves, but because he loves himself, & by them seeketh ease & contentment. Were it not therefore much better (if it could be done) to have this selfsame ease and contentment of mind, which riches fetch so far about, 
Contentment easier to be had without riches.  and through so many varieties of chances, without any trouble of being rich, and so eat the fruit ready dressed and pared? Certainly it were. And this is the fruit of Religious Poverty. For a Religious man is as well contented, and takes as much pleasure in having nothing, as any rich man can do in possessing all that he hath, & far more; because rich men, though they live in abundance, and indeed though they had all that can be had, cannot have the pe●ce and quiet of mind, which themselves desire and aim at. For the mind cannot be at quiet, unless it be filled; and it is not these outward things, that can f●●it, because they are outward, but Virtue, which is within, filleth it, and specially the voluntary and affectionate embracing of Povertie. Whereupon S. john Chrysostom● alluding to a saying of the Prophet Esay, 
Esay 48. ●0 S. Io. Chrys●. H●m. 4. 〈…〉.  calleth Poverty a furnace, wherein (says he) the miracle of the Three Children is renewed, when as not only the flame of the furnace did not touch them, but a cool air did refresh them in the midst of the fire. Povertie considered in itself is a scorching and painful fire: but if a man cast himself voluntarily into it, and being in it give thanks to God, his bonds fall asunder, and the fire goeth out; or if it do not go out, in steed of the scorching flame, he feeleth a cool dew, which is much more wonderful. This is plainly to be perceived in the servants of God, who vow Poverty; for in their Poverty, they are richer, than the rich of the world, and in the midst of the fire, there descendeth a most pure dew upon them. Not to desire to be rich, is a heavenly dew naturally refreshing the soul; and as the Three Children by contemning the command of the King, grew more conspicuous than the King himself: so they that set all the rich presents of this word at naught, are the more respected and honoured for it by the world itself. This is the discourse of S. john Chrysostom.  
7. But because the very name of Poverty is grown odious, and the only noise of it doth instantly bring a world of miseries into our thoughts, let us dive into the ground of this error, and see, how people come to be so much deceived. 
Two kinds of Poverty, very different.  The ground of the error is, because (as we touched once before) there is a kind of Poverty, which indeed is base and unworthy, and withal very irksome and tedious; a vulgar kind of poverty, as we may call it, which people apprehending, and not weighing things with their due circumstances, but carried away with the likeness of the name, are jealous, least Religious Poverty have the self same inconveniences annexed unto it, which that other hath. But it is not so; for they differ in many things, but chiefly in two. For first, the Poverty of the world growing upon necessity, and not of virtue, is always accompanied with a desire of being rich; and desiring it, they seek to compass it; and not being able to compass it, thence comes their grief, and sadness, and woeful cares. Religious people voluntarily choosing to be poor, and being desirous ever to remain so, are not only free from all trouble of mind, but do not so much as feel the want, in which they are, because they desire and love it. To which purpose Seneca said truly: It is much one, 
Sen. Ep 110.  not to desire a thing, and to have it. And consequently this kind of Poverty is so far from bringing trouble and disquiet, that a man hath full as much contentment in it, as if he had all the riches in the world.  

The comfort of the Providence of God.  8. The other difference is, that Religious Poverty hath a great stay and comfort (which other poor people ordinarily have not) in the care and providence of God, and his undoubted promise. For (as S. Francis was went to say) there passeth a kind of covenant and bond betwixt God and Religious people; they on their part forsaking all things, and God on his part promising to maintain them, 
S. Fran●is.  and provide for them, not only as a master for his servants, but as a father for his children, and such children as for his sake, 
A contract between God, and Religious people.  and for his love have abandoned all human helps & comforts. Wherefore if a crow, as mean a bird as it is, have naturally so much love, that it bringeth the yong-ones meat to the nest, when they call for it, and goeth for it afar of; shall we not with far more reason think, that God will have the like care of those, whom he hath begotten, and bestowed upon them a life incomparably more excellent?  
9 Nay Religious Poverty is yet more to be admired and loved, because it is free from all the inconveniences of worldly riches, as we showed before, and hath notwithstanding all the commodities, which worldly wealth can bring a man, & never wanteth necessary sustenance, provided by other folk's labours, and sent-in by the bountiful goodness of Almighty God; which addeth greatly to the pleasantness of this life, whereof we are speaking. For when a man understands truly, that the Sovereign King of Kings hath so particular a care to provide all things necessary for him, and experienceth daily so many evident tokens of this care; how can it choose but savour more sweetly to him, than all the riches of the world beside? We might testify this be very many examples of holy men; but S. Francis shall serve for all, because he did particularly affect this virtue of Poverty, and often discovered the many benefits of it, and once in particular the pleasantness of it, by this occasion.  
10. As he traveled into France, he sat down to dinner at the edge of a fountain, 
The treasure of Poverty.  with his Companion Masseus; and pouring forth the pieces of broken bread, which they had begged betwixt them from door to door as they went, many of the pieces being mouldy and hard, the Saint exulting in spirit, and turning to his Brother, began to summon him to give thanks to God for so excessive a treasure of Poverty, & repeated often this word treasure, raising his voice every time a note higher. His Brother Masseus asked him, what that treasure was, seeing themselves in such apparent want of all necessaries, and having neither meat nor wine, nor table to eat on. The Saint answered: This is the excessive benefit, which I speak of, that God hath supplied all our wants, and sent us this bread and this water, and this stone to dine on. And going from thence into the next Church that was upon the way, he earnestly beseeched God to give him and all his Brethren a particular love of holy Poverty; and prayed with a great fervour, that his face did seem to be on a burning fire. In this fervour, turning to his Brother Masseus with his arms wide open, he called him unto him with a loud voice. Masseus astonished cast himself into the arms of the holy Saint; but S. Francis did so burn with that divine fire, that the breath that came from his mouth, carried Masseus many cubits high into the air; in which posture, as he often after related, he found in himself such inward sweetness, as in all his life-time before, he had never felt the like. Then S. Francis spoke thus unto him: Let us go to Rome, to beg of the holy Apostles S. Peter and S. Paul, that they will teach us to possess, as we ought, and with fruit, this so excellent a treasure of Poverty; for it is so rare and so divine, and we so vile and abject, that we are unworthy to contain it in such vessels as ours are. It is a virtue derived into us from heaven, teaching us voluntarily to tread under foot all earthly things, and taketh away all impediments, that the soul of man may freely, and with all expedition conjoin itself with his Lord and God.   

Of the pleasantness of Chastity and Obedience. CHAP. IX.  
THE pleasures of Chastity and Obedience are not less than those of Poverty, 
Cass. Coll. 12 c. 1●.  but rather so much the greater, by how much these two virtues are far more noble and excellent in themselves. Abbot Chaeremon in Cassian discoursing of Chastity, 
The pleasures of Chastity inexplicable.  among many other rare commendations of it, saith very truly, that neither he that hath not tried it, can possibly conceive the pleasure of it, nor he that hath tried it, declare it. As, saith he, if a man had never tasted honey, and another should go about to tell him, how sweet it is, the one would never be able to conceive by hearing, the sweetness which he never tasted, and the other could never compass to express in words the pleasure, which his taste took in the sweetness of it; but taken with the delightfulness of it within his own knowledge, he must of force admire in silence within himself alone the pleasantness of the savour, whereof he hath had experience. But yet though we cannot so well declare, how sweet it is in itself, there be certain ways, whereby we may give a guess at it, and particularly by comparison thereof with the troubles of marriage; a married life having no time free from grief and bitterness; insomuch that S. Hierome writing of Virginity against jovinian saith: 
S Hier● 1. cont. jovin.  We not knowing how matters pass, did conceive, that marriage enjoyed at least the pleasures of the flesh; but if married people have also tribulation in flesh, in which only they seemed to have pleasure, what is there left to move a man to marry, seeing both in spirit and in soul, and in the very flesh, there is tribulation.  
2. It were easy to reckon-up an infinite number of miseries and vexations, which partly man and wife are cause of one to another, partly come by their children, or by the charge of household, and many other ways; but all these are too well known, and I have spoken of them before. Wherefore we will content ourselves with one only famous saying of Cato, 
Cato.  a Heathen, but yet a wise and advised man: If the world could be without wives, our life would be like to the Gods of heaven; and consequently they are an evil, yet a necessary evil. Wherein he saith truly for a man that lived in that darkness of Infidelity, 
The easiness of living chaste.  that it is an evil, to marry, & that it is a life full of misery and inconveniences; but not so truly, when he saith, it is necessary, and not to be avoided. For the Grace of Christ doth so bless this infirm and corrupt nature of man, that in the beds, that is, in the hearts, where before dragons did dwell, to wit, filth and uncleanness, thy greennes of the reed and ●ush should rise, and the sweet odour of Chastity and holiness of life; 
Esay. 35.7.  and hath made it not so hard a thing, as that few are able to compass it, but common and easy, to the end no age nor sex might plead infirmity, or be afraid to aim at so high a dignity. This is that, which our Saviour in S. Matthew did intend to express by the name of Eunuches, 
Matth. 19  giving us to understand, that as easy as it is for an Eunuch to abstain from that, to which he is impotent, and consequently must have no thought of it; so easy is it for them to abstain, that are voluntarily continent; because that which Nature doth in those others, Grace doth in these: though in these there be many more, and more efficacious things, which make Chastity far more easy and more delightful to them. Think with thyself, 
S. Io. Chrys. Hom. 63. in Matth.  saith S. john Chrysostome, if either by nature thou wert an Eunuch, or wert made so by violence what thou wouldst do, seeing of necessity thou must then abstain from that pleasure, and have no reward for abstaining. Give thanks therefore to God, because thou shalt have a great reward and a glorious Crown, if thou live as they do, without any reward, nay far more easily, more safely, & more pleasantly; both because the hope of restibution doth strengthen thee, and the knowledge, that it is an act of virtue, doth comfort thee. And truly considered, what effect may we justly think the hope of a reward in heaven, which S. john Chrysostome speaketh of, will work in a Religious soul, seeing the greediness of an earthly recompense, or the serious application to study, or to any other worldly business▪ is forcible enough easily to divert a man's thoughts from all obscenity? 
Plato Dial. 8. de Legib.  Insomuch that Plato himself (which a man may with reason wonder at) exhorting young men to live chaste, bringeth an example of a certain man of ●arentum, and diverse others besides, whom there he names, that abstained from all pleasure of that nature, to the end to preserve their bodily strength entire and in the full vigour, which it ou●ht to be, for the Olympical Exercises. They therefore, saith he, abstained from that pleasure, which vulgarly is esteemed happy, that they might overcome others in Wrestling, & in the Race, & such other exercises; and shall not our youth be able to do the like for a far more noble victory? what victory? to wit, that subduing pleasure, they may live happily; & moreover shall not fear of committing a grievous offence be able to make them overcome that, which others, that are far worse than they, are reported to have overcome? What would Plato have said, if he could have had experience of the force of the love of God, seeing he thought the love of earthly things to be so effectual? whereas the love of God doth so wholly possess a soul, that it taketh no delight but in things Divine and Celestial, and abhorreth more than death itself, 
S. Macar. Hom. 4.  any thing that savours of uncleanness. Which S. Macarius proveth in this manner: If the love of carnal marriage separate a man so far from father and mother and brethren, that esteeming them all strangers, he loves his wife only, and cleaves to her and hers, as to his own; if, I say, the love of flesh doth so break with all other love, how much more shall they contemn all love and delight in other things, that have so nearly linked themselves to God, and drunk so plentifully of his love?  
3. These are the reasons, why the abstaining from all pleasure in this kind is so easy and pleasant, and the ground, whereupon S. Hierome delivereth these words in commendation of this virtue: 
S. Hier. lib. 1 cont. Iou●n.  How great happiness is it, not to be a slave to a wife, but to Christ? not to serve the flesh, but the spirit? For he that cleaveth to God, is one spirit. And S. Bernard accordingly speaking both of Chastity and other virtues accompanying it, applieth to this purpose that saying of the Prophet, short in words, 
Ps. 36.4.  but large in sense: Delight in our Lord; averring that all Religious people are so plentifully made partakers of this delight in our Lord, that none of them all can deny, 
S Bern. ser. 5. in Qua●rag.  but that they feel it. My Brethren, saith he; Secular people may say so, you cannot say so. For who is there of you, that hath not often experienced the delight of a good Conscience, tasted the sweetness of Chastity, Humility, and Charity? This is not like the delight in meat or drink or such like: yet it is a delight, and a greater delight than all these. For it is not carnal delight, but Divine.  
4. S. Ephrem also, 
Ephrem. ser. de Cast  as it were astonished with the pleasures of Chastity, discourseth in this manner: O Chastity, mother of love, resemblance of an Angelical life! O Chastity, clean of hart, sweet in taste, cheerful in countenance! O Chastity, which maketh men like to Angels! O Chastity, rejoicing the hart of him, that possesseth thee, and giving wings to a Soul to fly up to heaven! O Chastity, which bringest a spiritual joy, and takest away sorrow! O Chastity, which dost diminish the passions of the mind, and free it from perturbation! O Chastity, a spiritual Chariot, lifting him on high, that possesseth thee! O Chastitite, that buddest like a rose in the midst betwixt the soul and body, and fillest the whole house with a fragrant smell! This and much more saith this holy ancient Father. And certainly if we grant, that filthy obscenesse hath naturally so much force to allure us, and to set us so much on fire, notwithstanding the unseemliness of it; we cannot think but that honesty, and purity, and the beauty of so rare a virtue must needs be much more forcible. For what comparison is there betwixt light and darkness? or betwixt dirt and mire, 
Can. 6.2.  where hogs do tumble? and those lilies among which the Spouse doth so willingly feed, that he refuseth all food without them? And thus much of Chastity.  

Obedience delightful.  5 The delights of Obedience are somewhat more apparent; because Obedience hath none of the incommodities of Poverty, nor yet so fell an enemy as Chastity, our own body making war against Chastity, and being both uncapable of feeling any delight in purity of life, and carrying us rather headlong to all kind of sensuality. Obedience dependeth of the mind only; which being capable to conceive the beauty of so great a virtue, may easily also persuade itself to love it; and being so persuaded, there remaineth little or no contradiction from abroad. Besides other things, which increase the sweetness of it, first that if freeth us from the troubles and anxieties, which are wont often to occur in settling or governing our estate, in undertaking or leaving this or that business, & indeed, in all occasions and hours of our life; secondly, because it putteth us into the hands of God, and placeth us in his arms to be carried, and ruled, and cherished by him, than which what can be more delightful or more to be desired? For if we aim at honour, which doubtless in itself is pleasing, nothing can be more honourable then to be so tenderly loved, and so lovingly dealt-with by so great a Majesty; if it be profit that taketh us, which also is full of pleasure, nothing can be more profitable then to rely our whole life, and all that we do, upon such a guide. Finally all manner of comforts & delights are contained in this one, to see ourselves so inwardly linked to him, who is the only Father of mercies (as the Apostle styleth him) and the God of all comfort; 
2▪ Cor. 1.3.  which, as all other spiritual things, no man can rightly value, but he that hath tried it; and they that have tried it, do so lovingly and so passionately affect Obedience, that liberty is a cross unto them, as we read of B. Aegidius a Franciscan-Friar. For when S. Francis by reason of his eminent sanctity had given him freedom to go whither he would, and dwell where he would, within less than four days, his soul finding no rest in that kind of largeness, he returned to S. Francis, earnestly beseeching him, to appoint him some certain abode; because in that free and loose Obedience, he had no contentment at al.   

Of the pleasure, which Religious people take in conversation with their spiritual brethren. CHAP. X.  
I Come now to a solace of another nature, grounded in the sweetness of conversation with our spiritual brethren, which rests not in the mind, but diffuseth itself to sense, & is taken in seeing, speaking, & hearing; & consequently is more apparent and more universal, & a man needs not take pains to perceive it. The greatness of it may be easily understood, in regard it involves not one but many comforts. 
Love is naturally delightful.  For first, to love and to be loved, is of itself excessive pleasing, and we shall not need to have recourse to grace to conceive it; nature itself showeth it, by the in bred propension and desire, which it hath of company, and hatred to be alone; and an evident proof of the sweetness of it is, that no man to choose would abound in all kind of wealth, and be bound withal to love no man, nor to be loved of any. So that this drawing and cleaving of man to other men, being so agreeable to Nature, the effecting of it must needs be full of delight and pleasure.  
2. Aristotle is of the same opinion, 
Aristot 8. Eth. c. 1.  and saith, that therefore Friendship is so pleasing, because it consorteth with Nature; for as the beasts of the earth, and the fowls of the air, and the fishes of the sea, and all kind of living creatures, whether they be wild or tame, take a kind of contentment, to be with others of their kind; so Man much more. For there is no man that would not choose a poor and mean estate in company of other men, rather than a life in all other respects most happy, upon condition, that he should see no man. And from this principle, both Aristotle, and all other ancient learned writers do derive the chiefest commendation of Friendship, not so much in regard we stand in need of one another's help (though this be something) as by reason of the natural inclination, which we have to love. To which purpose Laertius recordeth, that Aristotle was wont to call Friendship, the greatest Good of all good things. Which perhaps Aristotle took from Socrates, 
Socrates▪ Nothing comparable to a true friend.  who, as the same Laertius reporteth, had often in his mouth, that no freehold was comparable to a true friend; nor nothing in the world could yield man so much profit and pleasure. Which if we grant, we may easily also discover, how far the comfort of Religious Conversation doth extend itself, and how much pleasure they feel in the mutual love betwixt them, finding themselves to love, and to be so entirely loved; and both being so natural to every body, as nothing more.  
3. Now if we consider, 
True friendship rare in the world.  that of this kind of true friends, which the Philosophers describe unto us, there were scarce three or four couple to be picked out of so many Ages, such as the bloody Tyrants themselves did envy, how far more fruitful and more happy is Religion, where we find so many swarms of men so entirely linked together in the bond of Charity, that we may truly say, so many persons, so many unseparable companions, so many bosome-friends, so many loving brethren both in hart, & effect, and name? If we dive to the bottom of that, which is commonly called Friendship, we shall hardly find in this world any worthy to bear the name. For they that love for profit or for pleasure, love not their friend, but themselves; and such love cannot be called Friendship; for in like manner we love our lands & our cattle; or speaking of men, we love a Physician or a Mariner, when we have use of them, 
Virtue the ground of Friendship. Arist. 3. Eth. c 3. & 4.  or a common leaster, for the pleasure we take in his wit. The grounds therefore of true friendship is Virtue and Honesty; and that, which dependeth upon this string, is the only solid and constant friendship. Aristotle speaketh to this purpose almost word for word; and the selfsame reason convinceth, that perfect friendship is rare, except it be among Religious people, who have no other ground of their love and conjunction, but Religion and Virtue; and consequently having so perfect friendship among them, it is also evident, that they must needs enjoy all the commodities, and fruits, and pleasures thereof, which the ancient Philosophers reckon to be very many.  

Likeness a second ground of pleasure.  4. Another ground of pleasure in conversation, is likeness, which doth so much the more win men's affections, by how much Nature is of itself exceeding greedy, as I may say, and extremely passionate, where it finds that sympathy and similitude; which among Religious people is more absolute then in any other thing. For they agree not only in nature as men, or in Faith and belief, as Christians; but in life, and conversation, and projects, and intentions, in their endeavours, orders, and employments, in their very habit and clothing; which must needs wonderfully inflame their affections and their love towards one another; and love, the more ardent it is, the more sweetness it bringeth with it. For as every body takes delight to live, and to enjoy himself, and cannot be truly weary of himself; so the more inward our affections are towards other men, and the nearer they draw to this degree of union with ourselves, the more delightful they are. And if it be so in all men, as we experience it in our children and kinsfolk, loving them though they be wicked or deformed; 
Virtue on forceth love.  and the more we love them, the more we delight to converse with them; to what height will this pleasure rise, where virtue meets with this link of friendship? For virtue, wheresoever it is, doth constrain a man to love it, as we find in those, whom we never saw, or perhaps were once our enemies: for if we perceive any inkling of virtue in them, it silently speaks to our hearts, to be friends with them. If therefore it make strangers friends; how much easier and more inwardly will it bind those unto us, with whom we daily converse, and of whose virtue and Religion we are the more assured, the more familiarly we deal with them? So many in the world take pleasure in hunting, and horseraces, and gallant apparel, and in their buildings, and in being popular, it were most absurd to think, that these pleasures are comparable to the pleasure; which a man may take in a soul adorned with virtue and holiness of life, with ample return also of love for love. Plato saith truly and elegantly, that if Virtue could be seen with our corporal eyes, 
Plato in Phaed. Cic. 1. Offi●.  it would wonderfully inflame the love of people towards it. But in Religion in very deed we see it; for as we see not the soul, which is in the body, in itself, yet we see it in the effects, in the motion, in the speech, in the discourse, which it makes, and so clearly, that we can no more doubt of it, then if we saw it with our corporal eyes: so we see Virtue in the acts thereof, as if it were really before us. We see Charity extend itself to the service and tendance of our Brethren; we see Humility stooping to servile offices, and often humbling itself unto them, in Religion; we see Patience in enduring hardness and embracing the Cross; finally we see all other Virtues of the mind, and have them in our eyes, when they walk out before us, about the careful performance of their several duties.  
5. And besides this comeliness of Virtue and Sanctity, there be many other things in most Religious people, 
Religious people eminent for their natural parts. 1. Cor. 12.10.  for which we ought in reason highly to esteem and desire their conversation. For some are eminently learned, others profoundly wise, others well-spoken, a gift which the Apostle reckons among the rest And as for the pleasure, which men take in these things, I appeal to secular people themselves, who by their often repair to Religious houses, do sufficiently testify the contentment they take in their presence and conversation, though otherwise their palate be distempered with the disordered pleasures of this world; and yet thither they come for comfort in adversity, for light and counsel in their doubtful questions, for advice and wholesome admonitions upon all occasions; and they think, the world goes well with them, if they can enjoy this comfort for an hour or two, but with Religious people it is an ordinary thing and continual, and they have it at command as their own, and cannot but impart these comforts to those that live in house with them, and are their Brethren, far more abundantly and more confidently, than they can with strangers.  
6. Whence we may deduce another branch of pleasure growing from Religious conversation, 
〈…〉 Religious people.  to wit, that by living together, they have often yea continual occasion and intercourse of such friendly offices, as must needs entertain and increase the brotherly love, which is betwixt them, as fire is nourished with wood and coal. For first they live together like bosome-friends, they meet often, they speak often courteously one to another; secondly they are always doing and receiving good turns from one another, they prosser their service, not as worldly people do, idly, and for the most part for their own ends, but are really desirous to serve them in spiritual things; and aim at nothing else in it, but to benefit their neighbours and brethren, and advance the glory of God. For we must n●t think, that Virtue and Sanctity is so rigid and inflexible, as if it were of iron, or that it is always mute, dreaming of nothing but of doing penance. Rather in all occasions, but specially in conversation with others, it is pliable and affable, the sweetness of charity inclining thereunto, and making people to condescend, and accommodate, and enlarge themselves to their neighbours. What therefore can be more delightful, then to be thus continually endeavouring ●o requi●e one another's courtesies, and striving to overcome their companions in charitable offices? specially where a man cannot well ●el whether it be better to overcome, or to suffer himself to be overcome in Charity. So that that, which Aristotle affirmeth of Friendship in general, 
 is much more verified in this holy league of friendship: that though the ground of friendship be far more noble and honourable, than the pleasure of profit which comes of it, because it is grounded in virtue and honesty, yet having so noble an offspring, neither pleasure not profit is wanting, but rather it is very profitable in regard of the many good offices, which pass betwixt friends, and much more delightful, than any thing grounded upon a meaner motive, because the virtuous actions and behaviours of our friend is no less pleasant unto us, than our own.  

Religious friendship assured.  7. We may add for a compliment, and as it were a delightful fawce to the meat, which is here served in, that ordinary friendship is subject to many branglings, by reason either of the difference of men's minds, or of their fashion and behaviour, or of their state and calling, or by age growing upon them, or by desire of something which both parties cannot enjoy, and many such like accidents, which oftimes are cause of great fallings-out and much hatred, and make an utter breach of friendship when they happen, and before they happen breed many suspicions and jealousies, insomuch that there can be no solid comfort almost in any worldly friendship, specially the world being so generally infected with the poison of self-love, every one drawing to his own ends, which is the absolute bane of all true league and friendship. The league, which is betwixt Religious people on the other side, is full of solid pleasure, because being grounded in charity, and free from all private interest, 
Cass. Coll. 16. c. 3.  it is not subject to those dangers and casualties, which I spoke of; but as Abbot joseph in Cassian saith very well, whereas all secular friendship (whereof there he recites several kinds) is fickle and unconstant, that only is permanent and indissoluble, which is grounded in the likeness of virtue. This is not subject to be broken by any casualty, distance of place, or length of time cannot shake it, nor death itself dissolve it.  
8. And this pleasure, which I speak of, occurs unto us by conversation with any particular man among us: what then shall I say of the whole family, or College, or household? & of the joy which is to live in such company? For who is there, that hath not experienced in himself, that as often as he hath beheld so many of his Brethren in that decent, 
The pleasure of living in such a community. Gen. 32.2.  & grave, and devout manner of habit and carriage, which is usual among them, either singing in the Choir, or going in Procession, or set at a sermon or Exhortation, or working at their manual exercises, or sitting at board in their dining-room, who is there, I say, that hath not found himself overioyed at such a sight, and said in his mind: These are the host of God, armies not of soldiers, but of sons of the Highest. This made S. Leo say, that it did exceedingly rejoice him, whensoever it was his good hap to behold a company of servants of God, & that in so many Saints he felt the Angels present, & made no question, but God did visit them all with more plenty of his graces, 
S. Leo servant de sua Assumpt.  when they were all together, as so many glorious tabernacles of God, so many excellent members of the body of Christ, shining with one light. A saying worthy to be noted, in regard he styleth them, that are consecrated to God, tabernacles of God, and excellent members of Christ, having every one of them their particular light in themselves, but yet giving a greater light, & much more contentment by it, when that, which is several in them, meets with all the rest together, and diffuseth itself far & near by that conjunction, that next unto the blissful joys, which we shall have in the love and contemplation of God himself, we may truly rank the joy & comfort, which we find in the love and conversation with out spiritual Brethren.  
9 The Saintlike family of holy job was a lively resemblance of it. For he had many children, and they lived all in such a league of perfect love together, that though every one of them kept a several house & family, yet they were all of them, as it were, of one household, and all things were common among them, they feasted one another (as the holy Scripture relateth) in their turns, and every one had his day. So that they lived always together in mirth & jollity, & continual banckets. The sisters could not invite their brethren, but were ever invited by them, & did eat & drink with them. After this manner, every Religious man is, as it were, continually making a spiritual banquet for the rest of his Brethrens, with whom he lives; & the banquet is not setforth with ordinary dishes, but with exquisite virtues, & choice actions▪ & speeches of devotion; they feast one another in their turns, because every one doth reciprocally serve one another in the ●●ke kind. The children of job could in one day meet but once at one of their brethren's table; we feed at every one of our Brethren's table, and all at once, which is far more. And as there were sisters among them; so if among Religious people there be any that are inferior, and somewhat more imperfect in virtue and fervour, as they were in sex (of which kind certainly there be few in comparison of the rest, as among the children of job there were but three sisters for seven brethren) though they have not so much provision of virtue as to be able to feast others, yet by reason of the brotherly union, which is among them, they have the happiness to be feasted with the rest, and enjoy for the present the pleasure of the feast, & bettering themselves by little and little, furnish themselves with plenty, as I may say, of fat & marrow; so that at last they also grow able & sufficient to invite others.   

Of the pleasure, which Religious men take in Learning. CHAP. XI.  
THE ground of the pleasures, of which I have hitherto spoken, is supernatural; it followeth, that we speak of one that is natural, to wit, Learning & variety of all kind of knowledge; which how delightful it is, may he gathered by two things. First, if we consider the nobleness of knowledge, as belonging to the noblest part of man, & being the fruit of the mind & understanding, & withal wonderfully enriching and embellishing it: Secondly, if we weigh, how proper and how agreeable it is to the nature of man, to know & understand. For (as Aristotle saith) every man is naturally bend to desire knowledge; & he maketh an argument to prove it by the love, 
The 〈◊〉 of knowledge is natural. Arist 1 Metaph. c 1.  which we naturally have to the particular senses, which are most useful to bring knowledge, as to the sense of Seeing and Hearing. Now if a man be so naturally inclined to knowledge, it must needs be a great pleasure to be learned. For commonly every thing ●●kes most contentment in that, which is most agreeable to nature; as the chiefest pleasure, which birds have, is to fly; fish, to swim; and in our bodily senses, our eyes are most delighted with seeing, our taste with tasting, our ears with Musical consent. Why therefore should not our wit and understanding be far more pleased with the search and knowledge of truth, which is the proper food of it, and the diet, which it must naturally feed on.  
2. Insomuch that Aristotle did not stick to say, 
A●ist 2. 〈◊〉 c. 5.  that there was no other way to live always a contented life without sorrow▪ but to betake oneself to the study of Philosophy, in regard of the abundance of pleasure, which i● affords. And no wonder, 
Commendation of Philosophy.  if we consider the number, the variety, the extent, the rareness of the things, which Philosophy treateth of. For Philosophy being nothing else, but the search of Nature, as Nature extends itself far and near, & is admirable to consider, so universal & so admirable is the study of Philosophy, leaving nothing in Nature, to the bottom whereof it doth not endeavour to dive. First it considers the beginnings & causes of every thing, time, motion, place, things obvious & daily in our eyes & in our hands, and yet withal so obscure & intricate, that nothing more. It searcheth into the composition of man, soul & body, & all the properties & faculties of either part. It disputes of the earth, & of the ayte, & several affections thereof, as of the winds, thunder, lightning, rain, & the causes of them. It beholdeth the heavens, and whatsoever belongeth to the knowledge of them, their greatness, their light, and perspicuity, the number of the spheres, the constancy of their motion, their power and influence into these inferior things, for the continuance and preservation of them. Among so many things therefore, and infinite more, which cannot be numbered, but are exceedingly delightful, can any man make any question, but that a mind, that is given to the contemplation of so many, so great, so admirable things, so far above the capacity of ordinary people, turning and tossing them up and down on every side, can otherwise choose, but live in a perpetual paradise? For can there be any thing more absurd then to acknowledge, as we must needs, that our ears and our eyes take pleasure in their several objects, and to think that our mind, by which our senses come to be capable of pleasure, hath no pleasure proper unto it? 
The vulgar 〈◊〉 in the ou●●ide.  For if it be delightful to behold a horse that is well limmed, or a tree that spreads itself abroad with fair and large branches; why should it not be more delightful to contemplate the nature and essence of the horse or tree, seeing in this second contemplation that is involved, which we see with our eyes, and much more and more excellent considerations? For as a picture, that is well drawn and lively setforth in colours, doth naturally delight every body that beholds it, but much more a skilful painter, that besides the sight of the colours, and draughts of the pencil, is able to judge of the reasons of them, and the nature of the shadows, and the conveniency and proportion and connexion of every part of it: So in all things of this world, the vulgar sort beholds the outside of them, and rests there; they that are learned▪ consider that which is more inward, the nature, the properties, and several qualities, and dispositions of every thing, which as they are in themselves things far more noble, so also more delightful, and indeed able sufficiently to entertain any man's thoughts, and accordingly all ancient Philosophers were so taken with them, that they thought no happiness in the world comparable to this kind of study. But Religious people have yet one thing more, that gives the business a sweeter relish, which no Heathen could arrive unto, beholding all this world of things not so much as they are works of Nature, but as works of God the Author of Nature; & entertaining themselves in contemplation of the Power, & Wisdom, and Love of so great an Artificer in his works, as if they beheld all these his admirable attributs with their very eyes; and what can be more pleasant or more profitable than such a sight?  

The study of Divinity.  3. And thus much of the contemplation of natural things, which will easily put us into the way of conceiving the pleasure, which must needs be far greater in the knowledge of things Divine, laid open unto us by the light of Divinity, which we find divided into three parts or branches, whereof one is called Scholastical, comprised and delivered in a certain Method and way, in a manner, as humane Sciences; for the honour and commendation and sweetness whereof, what can be said more than that the object of it is Godliness? and comprehendeth all that, which the wit of man can arri●●● know touching the Unity, infinity, Power, Immensity, Simplicity, Knowledge, and Providence of GOD over every particular thing of this world, but chiefly concerning Salvation of mankind; and moreover several processions, either inward, constituting three Persons in one Essence, or outward, in the Creation of all things; among which the Angels being the principal, it discourseth of their Nature, their Excellence, their Order and several Dictinctions. And Man also being a work of God next in dignity to the Angels, hath his place and rank in this Disputation, where the End is discussed, for which he was created; and the means & helps ordained for this End, chiefly the Grace of God, his Laws & precepts, Virtues both Theological (so called, because their object is God) and Moral, among which justice and the branches thereof, are disputed at large, and whatsoever belongeth to the duty of a Christian in matter of Contracts.  
4. But that part of Divinity is most copious and most delightful, which discourseth of the mystery of the Incarnation, & of the Sacraments, as effects thereof, of the matter, form, & efficacy of them, & also of the Ceremonies used in them, as conduits conveying the merits of the Passion of Christ to the benefit of our Rules. So that if the life of those, that are in heaven, be therefore blessed, because their mind is always fixed upon God; what pleasure must this science needs afford, which is perpetually thinking of the same God? with this difference that in heaven they contemplate him face to face without any veil before their eyes, here they go upon grounds of reason & most assured principles of Christian Faith.  
5. The holy Scripture, 
The study of Scripture. S. Aug. in Ps. 145.  a second branch of Divinity, is like unto the former for pleasantness of the subject, & for authority far above it. S. Augustin doth deservedly style it the delight and riches of our soul; the riches, by reason of the fullness and abundance of all goodness requisite for the instruction and direction of man in the course of virtue, the delight, in regard of the unspeakable sweetness, which is in it; in which respect also elsewhere he saith: 
Id. l●b. 9 Conf. c. 4.  It tasteth like honey, of the heavenly honey, and is lightsome by the light, which it partaketh of God. S. Hierome in his Epistle to Rusticus a Monk, where he giveth him instructions to good life, comparing holy Scripture to an orchard, 
S. Hier. Ep. ad Rust.  exhorteth him to gather the several fruits thereof, to feed himself with those dainties, to solace himself with holding them in his arms. 
S Bern. ser. 67 in Cant.  S. Bernard likeneth this holy Word of God to a banquet excelling in three things, delightful to the taste, solid in respect of nourishment, & effectually medicinable: the sweetness of the sound of his words, delights our affections; the copiousness of their several senses, fattens & nourisheth the mind; the depth of the mysteries contained in them, exercising our understanding and keeping it in awe, wonderfully alleys the swelling of puffing science. 
Cass. Coll. 8. c. 8.  Abbot Serenus in Cassian compareth holy Scripture excellently well to a fat & fertile piece of ground yielding variety of fruits, whereof some are to be eaten raw from the tree, others by reason of the natural harshness of them are not so pleasant, and perhaps are also hurtful, if they be not first set over the fire, & softened, and brought to a milder temper; others may be used both ways, & are not distasteful raw, and yet qualifyed by the heat of the fire, are more pleasant & more wholesome. For in like manner the holy Scriptures contain some things which yield good nourishment, taken as the letter sounds; others, if they be not explained by some declaration, are rather hurtful; finally others again may be used both ways. Thus saith Cassian, and truly.  
6. For that which men 〈◊〉, have left written, differeth from holy Scripture, in that men declare their 〈◊〉 by words; but God as Author and director of all things, & all men's actions, useth the very things themselves and actions to declare his secret intentions by them. Which causeth so much variety of senses in holy Scripture; the delightfulness whereof is excellently well expressed by S. Gregory upon these words of job; 
job 22.26.  Then upon the Omnipotent thou shalt flow with delights. To flow with delights upon the Omnipotent, saith S. Gregory, is in his love to be filled at the banquet of holy Scripture. 
S. Greg. 16. Mor. c. 9  In the words whereof we meet with so many several delights, as we conceive diversities of senses for our benefit, feeding sometimes upon the bare history, sometimes upon the Moral Allegory, which lieth hidden, as the marrow, under the context of the letter; sometimes raising ourselves in contemplation of higher things, which in the darkness of this present life giveth us, as it were, a glimpse of the light of Eternity.  
7. This is the life, which Religious people lead in perpetual delights & pleasures, the true & solid happiness whereof S. john Chrysostome setteth forth lively in a certain Homily, where discoursing at large of the comforts of a Monastical life, & in particular of the pleasure, 
S Io. Chrys. Hom. 69. in Matth.  which they take in Prayer and Contemplation, at last he descendeth to this, which they take in the study of Scripture. Nailed to those sacred Books, saith he, they take exceeding comfort in them. For most commonly, when they come out of the Quire, one betaketh himself to conversation with the Prophet Esay, another with the Apostles; another readeth and contemplateth some thing in God or in his creatures, of things visible and invisible, of the misery of this life, of the happiness of the life to come. They set not themselves to feed upon the boiled flesh of brute beasts, but upon the words of God, sweeter than honey and the honiecombe. This honey was not gathered by wild bees, nor digested into their hives, as their manner is; but the grace of the holy-ghost distributed it among the minds of Saints in steed of the comb, and the hive, and those little toulles, that whosoever would, might with ease eat of it. Like bees therefore they fly about the honie-combes of the holy Bible, and receive great pleasure in them. Thus S. john Chrysostome.  

The study of the Fathers.  8. The third branch of Divinity, is the study of the holy Fathers, who, as they were eminent for learning, and holiness of life, & eloquence, have left so many monuments of learning behind them, that a man may spend his whole life time with pleasure in turning them over, & find more than he can have time to compass; God having moreover provided, that, as in a great banquet every dish hath his several re●●h, so among these great writers every one should have his particular strain of sweetness to avoid satiety. For if we compare the Greek Fathers one with another, we shall find the style of S. Basil to savour of learning, & abound in precepts of sanctity: S Gregory Nazianzen more profound entering familiarly into the deepest mysteries, 
The Greek Fathers compared among themselves  & declaring them in weighty terms & sentences. S. Athanasius is more facile, yetful, and with an equal style always like himself, teaching with a great deal of authority. Epiphanius is eager against Heretics; Theodoret plain & careful in exposition of Scripture. S. john Damascen full of learning, & expert in explaining the hardest points of Faith. S. john Chrysostome, as his name gives us to understand, eloquent & popular, easily insinuating himself into people's minds; & with the copiousness of his quaint words, as with a torrent of Eloquence; carrying his Auditory whither-soever he pleaseth.  
9 Among the Latin Fathers, 
The Latin Fathers.  S. Cyprian hath a neat & copious style, & yet nothing too much, but grave & weighty, and (as S. Hierom's censure is of him) his speech runs sweetly and quietly on, as a cristal-fountaine; and S. Augustin doth deservedly style him the sweetest Doctor. 
S. Hierom. Ep. 1●.  S. Ambrose hath a peculiar manner of expressing himself, very sententious, with choice words knit cleanly together, that a body may justly think when he reads him, that he hears a Divine making an Oration, or an Orator speaking like a Divine; in commendation of whose sweetness we shall need to say no more, then that God did seem to foreshow it by that strange accident, which we find recorded of him, when a swarm of bees lighted upon his mouth, when he was a child. The style of S. Hierome is learned, full of wit and examples of Antiquity, expressing in natural colours, whatsoever he undertakes, either for the literal exposition of holy Scriptures, or Moral precepts for all kinds of states, or in commendation or dispraise of any thing, or in exhortations to virtue; in all which he is so eminent, that his eloquence seemeth more Divine than humane. S. Augustin is copious, full of variety, and withal facile, expert at all hands, both to dispute the profoundest questions, and to speak plausibly to the people; and in his Sermons both instructeth and moveth with a great deal of grace. Who can place his words more weightily, in better order, and come off more roundly then S. Leo? whose speeches are always full of majesty, and come, as it were, thundering out of his mouth. S. Gregory is altogether Moral, & wonderful rare in that kind, entertaining his reader with variety of sweet examples and similitudes, and instructing him in the course of virtue with profound learning, and drawing him on to read him by the pleasant and copious manner, which he hath, of declaring himself. What shall I say of S. Bernard? who is worthily called the Mellifluous Doctor; and is full of spiritual documents of highest perfection, and enterlaceth the sentences of holy Scripture so naturally with his own discourse, that a man would think, he speaks nothing but Scripture, or that the holy Scripture makes use of his tongue, as an instrument to declare itself; which is both grave, and pleasant, and wonderful effectual. And not to hold the reader any longer, this doth sufficiently prove that which I said before, that every Father hath his particular delightful manner of expressing himself, and that so much variety must needs make the pleasure, in reading them, the greater, as it were walking out of one garden into another; & by the often change of so many curiosities as be in them, preventing all wearisomeness, which might creepe-in upon us.  
10. And certainly, if, when they lived here on earth, it could not but be an excessive comfort to deal with any one of them, and to converse with men of so great worth as they were, can we think, ●he pleasure is less now they are in heaven? Me thinks it should be far greater; both because the discourses, which are penned, are always more elaborate & mor●●●fined then that, which is delivered by word of mouth ex tempore; and the glory, ●●ich they now enjoy, doth add weight and authority to their writings. To conclude therefore this discourse of the three Branches of Divinity, I desire only people will reflect, that, whereas the understanding of matters so sublime & specially of the holy Scriptures doth come unto us more by being humble & long acquainted with spiritual things, then by strength of wit & assiduity, it must needs be evident, that Religious people are so much the better disposed for the comfort, which may be had in that kind of study, by how much they have more plenty of efficacious means to enrich themselves with the virtues, which prepare the way unto it.   

Of the joy, which Religious people take in the good of their Neighbours souls. CHAP. XII.  
MOst Religious men have yet another comfort, which goeth beyond all carnal and earthly comforts: when having had occasion to labour in cultivating of numbers of Souls, they see them forsake their vicious courses, and take to virtues, or in sanctity of life daily to advance themselves, and increase in the service of God. Who can express the joy, which this doth breed? or the tears, which it oftimes draweth from our eyes? For if, as the Prophet saith, Conquerors exult, when they have taken a prey, 
Es. 9.3.  what greater exultation can there be, then in such a conquest, & such a prey? For in other victories the prosperous success of one party, is loss to the other; here the benefit, which comes to us, is beneficial also to our neighbour; and the good of our neighbour, the increase of our joy. Witness the labour, the solicitude, the care, which most commonly this fruit doth cost us; whereof the Apostle writeth thus to certain Disciples of his: My little children, whom I travail withal again, until CHRIST be form in you; comparing himself to a woman with child, 
Gal. 4.54.  to express the time, and labour, and pain also, which often accompanieth this charitable business. And consequently there can be no doubt, but that, which our Saviour saith in the Gospel, agreeth also to this childbirth: A woman, when she breedeth, hath sorrow; but when she hath brought forth, now she remembreth not the pressure, 
Io. 26.21.  by reason of the joy, because a man is come into the world. But here the joy is far greater, because man is not borne into the world, but in very deed into heaven. For the life of the body is short, but the life of the Soul, eternal. And what joy, think you, should we conceive of this everlasting fruit, seeing we find a Heathen Philosopher rejoicing at the temporal progress of his Disciples, 
S●n. Ep. 34.  and esteeming it a very just and reasonable cause of joy? If a tree, saith he, when it is come so far as to bring forth fruit, rejoiceth the husbandman; if a shepherd take pleasure to see the fruit of his flock; if every man beholding the child, which he nurseth, delights in the growth of his child, as in his own; how dost thou think it fares with them, that have nursed up wits, when knowing the tender beginnings of them, they behold them suddenly flourish? Thus spoke this Heathen Philosopher of the brickle, & ●●ort, & momentary fruit, which he could arrive to know. The fruit of our lab●●●s is spiritual & immortal; so that if, as our Saviour testifieth, there be joy in heaven upon one sinner doing penance, is there not the like cause of rejoicing on earth, when we see a man either converted to do penance for his sins, or established in virtue, and taking great strides to perfection? Doubtless there is. For certainly in this one, we have many causes of joy & comfort, the glory of God, the salvation of our neighbour, whom we are commanded to love as ourselves; a joyful & most admirable representation of the Divine goodness, & clemency, & patience, not only in bearing with the lost sheep, but in bringing it again to the fold upon his shoulders; of which goodness and clemency we are witness and spectators. Finally, it is no small increase of joy, that we find ourselves made partners in some measure, in so great and so noble a work, and able, 
1. Cor. 3.6.  in a manner, to glory with S. Paul, and say: I planted. For it is natural for every body to love and take delight in that, in which he hath taken some kind of pains; and the more excellent the work is, the more pleasure he takes in it. And what greater work can there be, then to make men Saints? a work not only proper to God alone, but the greatest of all his works; a work, whereof S. Paul rejoiced in the Philippians, saying of them: My joy and my crown; and in the Corinthians, 
2. Cor. 1.14.  styling them his glory in the day of our Lord; and to the Thessalonians: What is our hope, 
1. Tess. 2 19  and joy, or crown of glory? Are not you, before our Lord JESUS CHRIST in his coming? For you are our glory and joy. Wherefore seeing Religious people labour so diligently in this harvest of Souls, and have so many peculiar helps towards the reaping of the fruit of it (as we have showed in the precedent Book) their joy and comfort in it must also necessarily be both most assured and continual.   

Of the Hundred-fold promised to Religious people. CHAP. XIII.  
THat which we have hitherto said of the pleasantness of a Religious course of life, is very admirable; Yet one thing remaineth behind, more to be valued then all the rest, as containing indeed all other things; and having it, we may justly make account we have al. This is the large, 
Matth. 19.19.  and ample, and magnificent promise, which Truth itself makes us in these words: Every one that shall leave father, or mother, or brethren, or sisters, 
Marc 10.30.  or house, or lands, shall receive a hundred-fold in this life. Of which promise S. Bernard discoursing saith, 
S. Bernard. s●r. E●ce nos.  and very truly: These are the words, which have persuaded men through the whole world, to contemn the world, and embrace voluntary Poverty; words, that fill Cloisters with Monks, Deserts with Anchorets'. These, I say, are the words which put Egypt to pillage, & rob it of the best vessel it hath. This is that lively and efficacious word, converting souls by a happy ambition of sanctity and faithful promise of truth. Finding therefore so great a promise upon record, and knowing withal that he that makes us this promise, cannot fail of his word, nor forget how fa●re he hath engaged himself, it concerns us, diligently to search into the riches of it, and acquaint ourselves throughly with the treasure which it containeth.  
2. Cassian in his last Collation relating a discourse of Abbot Abraham, 
Cass. Coll. vl●m. c. ultimo.  saith that the words of this promise are to be understood plainly as they sound, to wit, that we shall receive the very things which we leave, in quantity multiplied. For, sa●thl●, 
A hundred-fold repaid in 〈◊〉  whosoever contemning the love of one father, or mother, or child, for Christ's sake, doth pass into the most sincere love of all those that serve Christ, shall receive a hundred-fold in quantity of brethren and parents, that is to say, for ●ne he shall find so many fathers and brethren, that will love him with a more ardent and more elevated kind of love, and shall be also enriched with possessions and lands in like manner multiplied; that is, whosoever abandoneth one house for the love of Christ, shall possess innumerable Monasteries as his own in all parts of the world, and enter upon them as upon his own land of inheritance. For how doth not he receive a hundred-fold, and (if we may be so bold as to add any thing to the words of our Saviour) more than a hundred-fold, that forsaking ten or twenty servants that wait upon him by force, and are scarce to be trusted, is attented ever after with the voluntary service of so many men well borne and of honourable descent? A notable saying, comprehending not only Religious people that have revenues in common, 
B●d. de Natali S. Benedicti.  but all in general, even those that profess the strictest Euangelical Poverty that can be, and have nothing either in private or in common; for these also have their hundred-fold of alms, which the faithful bring-in unto them abundantly of devotion. Let us give care (saith S. Bede discoursing of this kind of Poverty) to the joyful promises of our Lord and Saviour, let us see how out of the special favour of his goodness he promiseth them that follow him, not only the rewards of eternal life, but excellent gifts also in this present life. Every one that shall leave house, or brethren, or land, for my sake, shall receive a hundred-fold. For he that renounceth earthly love and possessions to follow Christ, the more he profiteth in his love, the more he shall find that will be glad to embrace him with inward affection, and maintain him with their outward substance. The first degree therefore of this hundred-fold in this world, is to receive it even in these outward things.  
3. But the inward treasures which God bestoweth upon us are far greater and more to be esteemed; 
S. Hierome 3 in Matt.  to wit, a sweetness and satiety in our souls, incomparably better than all earthly pleasure. S. Hierome conceived right of it, and saith, that the promise of our Saviour is to be understood in this sense, that he that forsaketh ca●nal things for our Saviour, shall receive spiritual, which, for the worth of them, are in comparison of earthly things, 
Spiritual thing a hund●●d times better than temporal.  as a hundred for one. And what shall we need to stand alleging many authorities? If it be pleasure which we seek in these earthly things, we see where it is to be had far more abundant and more solid. For this is the tenure of the promise of our Saviour: look how much contentment a man received in his parents, and brethren, and kinsfolk, and acquaintance, or in the pleasantness or fruitfulness of his lands and territories, or in the use and possession of whatsoever other thing he was master of in the world, he shall have the self same contentment in Religion, a hundred-fold more added unto it.  

S Gregory 〈◊〉 in Eze●h.  4. S. Gregory in one of his Homilies delivereth this which we are saying, and addeth moreover that this Hundred-fold consisteth in a kind of habitual joy and contentment of mind, 
P●●fection a l●●ge hundred-fold.  giving a man as much and much more satisfaction in poverty, than the richest men of the world can find in all their wealth and abundance. His words are these: Holy men do not forsake earthly things, to the end they may have the self same in this world multiplied; for whosoever doth forsake earth out of an earthly intent, doth not forsake earth, but desire it. Neither is it to be understood, that he that forsaketh one wife, shall receive a hundred; but in the name of a Hundred-fold we understand Perfection, because whosoever despiseth earthly and temporal things for God, receiveth here so much perfection in his soul, that he desireth not the things which before he set at naught, and in the world to come he arriveth to the glory of life everlasting. He receiveth therefore a hundred times over that which once he gave, because he receiveth the spirit of perfection, which maketh that he wanteth not earthly things, though he have them not; 
He that desireth nothing, is not poor.  for he is properly a poor man, that wanteth that which he hath not. He that, when he hath not a thing, doth not desire it, is rich; for poverty consisteth in the penuriousnes of one's mind, not in the quantity of that which he possesseth; and he is not poor, that is not encumbered with poverty. Cassian hath the like saying, 
Cass. Coll. ultim. c. ultim.  and discourseth of the sweetness of this Hundred-fold in this manner: Certainly a man shall receive a hundred times more sweetness by containing himself from marriage, than people have in the act of marriage. And for the contentment which they have in the possession of one house, or one piece of land, he shall have a hundred times more joy of the riches which he shall possess by being the son of God by adoption, 
Incomparably more sweetness in Spiritual things.  by virtue whereof he entereth upon all that which belongeth to his eternal Father and possesseth it as his own, and in imitation of that true Son saith with like love and virtue; All which my Father hath, is mine; and enjoyeth it without painful care, or distractive solicitude, quiet and secure, as it were his own inheritance, these words of the Apostle sounding daily in his ears: 
john 16 15.  All things are y●rs, whether the world, or things present, or things to come; and that of King Solomon: Of a faithful man the whole world is his wealth. 
1. Cor. 3.22.  Thou hast therefore the reward of a Hundred-●old laid down before thee in the greatness of the merit, and in the incomparable difference of the worth and quality. For as if for a certain weight of brass, or iron, or other grosser metal, a man should return the like weight in gold, he might well be said to have rendered more than a hundred-fold: So when for the contempt of earthly love and pleasure a man is rewarded with spiritual joy, and the pleasure of most excellent charity, though the number were alike, yet it is a hundred times greater and better. This was Cassian's opinion in this business.  
5. And S. Augustin doth not only approve of it, 
S Augustin Ep. 89. q. 4.  but sticketh not to say further, that the pleasure of Religious people is more than a hundred times as great; and that the number of a hundred, being the perfectest of all other numbers, comprehendeth all that can be had or wished; and that the saying of the Apostle is verified in them: As having nothing, and possessing all things. And elsewhere he repeateth the same; 
2. Cor. 6. 100LS.  and addeth moreover, that such as were poor in the world, and had little or nothing to leave, shall not be excluded from this happiness, but all shall be partakers of so ample and so abundant a a reward of pleasure, which maketh the joy of the hundred-fold incomparably greater. And to this effect he construeth those words of the Psalm: There sparrows shall make their nests; 
S. Augustin 〈…〉 103.  understanding by sparrows, which are little birds, the poor and little ones, that hearing the words of the Gospel (Go sell all that thou hast, and come follow me) embracing it with all their hart, resolve neither to marry, nor to trouble themselves with care of children, nor to tie themselves to any certain dwelling, but to live in common. What therefore (saith S. Augustin) have these sparrows forsaken? 
They that had ●●thing ●●leaue, 〈◊〉 also a hundred fold.  what great matter have they forsaken? One of them turns to God; he leaves his father's poor cottage, perhaps scarce a bed in it, or a chest. Let us not crow over him; let us not say: Thou hast left nothing. He that hath forsaken a great deal, let him not be proud of it. We know that Peter, when he first followed our Saviour, was a fisherman; what could he forsake? or his brother Andrew, or the sons of Z●bedee, john and james? for they were also fishermen; and yet what did they say? Behold we have left all, and followed thee. Our Saviour did not answer him: Hast thou forgotten thy poverty? what hast thou left, that the whole world should be turnedover unto thee? He forsook a great deal, my Brethren, he forsook very much. He forsook not only all that he had, but all that he desired to have. What man is there so poor, that doth not swell with the hopes of this world? who is there that doth not daily covet to increase that which he hath? This covetous mind is that which they cut off. It was once aiming at an immensity of wealth; they confined it; and shall we say they left nothing? No certainly; Peter forsook the whole world, and the whole world was turnedover unto him, as having nothing, and possessing all things. Many do the like; they that have little, do this, and become fruitful sparrows. All this is of S. Augustin, So that we may justly conclude, that Religious people have a promise, not only of a hundred times as many goods, and a hundred times as much pleasure and happiness by these goods even in this life, but under the title of a hundred-fold, they have a promise of the whole world.  
6. Which is a rare and excellent thing; and yet there is an other degree of this hundred-fold, and indeed the highest that can be thought on, comprehending not only the world, 
God alone hundred fold 〈…〉  and all that is in it, but God, the Author of the world. So S. Ambrose understandeth this hundred-fold to be God himself; because he that forsaketh all, begins to possess God. He (saith S. Ambrose) is the perfect reward of Virtue, not counted unto us one by one to an hundred, but in the value of perfect virtue; 
S. 〈◊〉 Ps. 1ST.  and giveth an example in the Tribe of Levi. For by commandment of God himself, there being no portion of land set-out for them among the rest of the Tribes, 
Deut. 10. & 18.  God promised, that he would be their part and possession, and often renewed the like promise unto them. Whereupon S. Ambrose speaking of this their honourable and delightful inheritance, saith in this manner: He that hath God for his portion, is master of all that is in Nature. In steed of land, it is enough that he enjoyeth himself; that is a good revenue unto him, which cannot perish. In steed of several dwellings, it is sufficient, that himself is the habitation and temple of God, than whom nothing is more precious. For what is more precious than God? This is a portion to which earthly portions cannot be compared. What is more noble than a Heavenly guest▪ What is more happy than a Divine possession?  
7. This and much more saith S. Ambrose of this Hundred-fold, and particularly that they that have forsaken all, are far more rich, than all the wealthy men of the world, because though their lands and dominions extend never so far, yet they have their bounds, and pay more out of them, than the profit of them comes to: but, saith S. Ambrose, he that hath nothing, and serveth God only, hath his inheritance above the earth, where land doth not confine him, nor the sea bound him. Which being so, how can the wealth of any King, or the earthly riches, and commodities, and pleasures of any man living, be comparable to the riches and pleasures of a Religious life?  
8. We might bring many examples to this purpose; but that which happened to Arnulphus a Cistercian Monk, 
Arn●l●●us  shall supply for all, whose wonderful conversion is recorded in the history of that Order. He being nobly borne, and a wealthy man in the world, bred up in all manner of dainties, touched in a Sermon of S. Bernard, became a Monk in the Monastery of Claire-vaulx. And in that poor and austere kind of life, among other infirmities being once grievously tormented with the colic, he lay for a good while together in a swound and speechless; and at last coming to himself, he cried out aloud: All it true, which thou hast said, o Lord JESV; and repeated it very often. They that were about him, much am ze●, asked him how he felt himself; but he gave them no other answer but as before: All is true, which thou hast said, o Lord JESV. And some of them whispering to themselves, and saying that they feared he was distracted with his pain, and spoke idly, he spoke thus unto them: That which I said, I said in my perfect senses; for our Lord in the Gospel hath promised, that if a man renounce the wealth of this world, and all conversation with his kindred, for his love, he shall receive a hundred-fold in this life. And this I find now by experience. For this very excessive sharp torment is so sweet unto me for the hope of the mercies of God which I feel in it, that I would not have been without this grief, not only for all the world which I left, but not▪ if it had been a hundred times as much more. And if I, that am a wicked sinner, feel that these pains are a hundred times sweeter unto me, than all my ancient worldly happiness, what is that which good and fervent Religious people have in their spiritual joys and comforts? For it is most certain that any spiritual joy, though it be but in hope, is a hundred thousand times greater, than whatsoever secular joy actually possessed. These were the words of this holy man: and when he spoke them, all that heard him, were much astonished, specially to hear a man, that had no learning, conceive and utter such things so pertinently; and thereby they were the more assured, that what he said, came indeed from the holy-ghost, that dwelled in his hurt.   

A comparison of Religion with Paradise. CHA●. XIIII.  
I Will conclude this discourse of the pleasantness of a Religious life with a conceit of S. Antonin's, who was both a very learned man, and a great Saint. He therefore in one of his Treatises, where he discourseth at large of this state of life out of the principles of Divinity, among other commendations which he gives it, saith, it is like the terrestrial Paradise, a place of joy, and pleasure, and delight, planted by the hand of God, the greatest and powerfullest Artificer that ca●●e, and fullest of knowledge; 
God planted this Paradise o● Relig●●●.  & planted to the end that man should lead a most blissful life in it. Religion yieldeth nothing to paradise, for as much as concerneth the dignity of the Author of it: for so great a thing as Religion is, could not have been invented but by God, nor conserved to this day by any other power or wisdom. This so holy & wholesome kind of life is his gift, he put it into the thoughts of men; He is the author of this counsel and practise of making Vows, and instilles into every man's mind the desire of undertaking such a kind of course; he gives perseverance and victory in temptations; he order the rules and several constitutions and all things belonging to this Sat; and consequently it cannot be but that the whole work proceeding from a fountain of so great wisdom and goodness, must needs be every way perfect and complete, and flow with full streams of happiness.  
2. In that first garden and orchard of pleasure, God planted all kind of trees, fair to behold, 
Fruits of this Paradise.  and pleasant to taste of, that no kind of delight might be wanting in it. Here we have plenty of spiritual fruits, much more delightful to the eyes and palate of our mind; to wit, the security of a sincere and upright Conscience, light of Understanding to discover things of an other world, the solaces of Prayer and Contemplation, and many other things which we have mentioned before, yielding excessive contentment both by the variety & dignity, which is in them.  

The Grace of God the Tree of life.  3. Here wanteth not the Tree of Life, which S. Antonine will have to be the Grace of God, in regard that the State itself is not grounded in Nature but in Grace, & containeth within itself many easy and obvious ways both to produce and increase daily the selfsame Grace. And as in Paradise the air was always of an even temper, never excessive hot, nor excessive cold, there was neither hunger nor thirst, nor aguish distemper, nor any other thing that could be distasteful for the body: So in Religion we find peace and tranquillity of mind, free from all turbulent motions and distempers, and a constant kind of disposition and evennes of our inward carriage, which if it were pleasing to the body, much more to the mind. As for the four Rivers that flowed out of Paradise, S. Gregory tells us, 
S. 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 In Marc. c. 27.  that they signify four Virtues, wherewith while our hart is watered, the heat of all carnal desires is allayed.  

The benefit of Company.  4. Let us see how that agreeth to Religion which God said of Man: It is not good for man to be alone; let us make him a help like to himself. What doth this signify but the help which every one finds in the company of his Brethren for the benefit of his own soul, and for the more profitable assistance of his Neighbour? Certainly it is not good for a man, that desires virtue, to be alone; rather it is dangerous and hurtful, both because it is more easy for the Devil to supplant him, and himself is more apt to be wearied with the labour 〈◊〉 virtuous course of life; & a man cannot but want sometimes good counsel, and good example. Great therefore is the help which Conversation with our Brethren doth yield us; and is more like ourselves, than the help which was made for Adam; because that was only like in nature, here the Sex is the same, and our habit, and orders and all things else are alike.  
5. If we look also into the inward disposition of mind, in which our first Father was at the time of his creation, we shall find no small resemblance of it in Religion. S. Io●n Chrysostome discoursing of the happiness of Monks, and comparing them with Adam while he lived in Paradise, 
The inward disposition of mind better in Religion.  expresseth it in these words: W●y should these be in worse case than he, when before his disobedience he was busied in working in Paradise? He was troubled with no worldly care, no more are these, He conversed with God with an upright conscience, and so do these, and so much the more freely, by how much they have greater grace bestowed upon them by the gift of the holy-ghost.  
6. Finally S. Bernard discoursing of the delights of this Paradise, 
S. john Chrysost. Home 69.  showeth withal the way and means which we must take to come unto it; and it is reason we should learn of him. Do not think, saith he, that this Paradise of inward pleasure is any corporal place. 
S. Ber l. 1. de Conuers. Cleri. c. ●●.  We must not walk with our feet into this garden, but with our affections. It is not commended for store of earthly trees, but for the pleasant and comely plants of spiritual virtues. It is a Garden enclosed, where a sealed fountain is derived into four branches, and one vein of wisdom spreads itself into four several virtues. There beautiful lilies spring forth; and when the flowers appear, the voice of the Turtledove is heard. There the Spikenard yieldeth the Spouse a most fragrant smell, and all other spices abound, while the Southwind bloweth & the Northwind is shut out. In the midst is the Tree of Life, the Appletree mentioned in the Canticles, more precious than all the trees of the woods; the shade whereof cooleth the Spouse and the fruit is sweet in her throat. There the brightness of Continency, and the knowledge of sincere truth enlighteneth the eyes of our hart, & the melodious voice of the inward Conforter giveth joy and gladness to our hearing. There the pleasant Sent of a fruitful field which God hath blessed, doth as it were beat into the nostrils of our H●pe. There we have a taste of the incomparable dainties of Charity, and eat greedily of them; and the thorns and brambles wherewith it was pricked before, being now cut down, and our soul anointed with the oil of Mercy, it reposeth happily in a good Conscience. And all these things are not reckoned among the rewards of the life to come, but are part of our hire in this temporal warfare, and bel●ng not to the future, but rather to the promise of the Church which now is. For this is the Hundred-fold which even in this world is bestowed upon those that contemn the world. These are the words of S. Bernard, the bare rehearsal whereof whom should is not in reason move to labour for so great blessings, and to resolve for ever to live where there is such plenty of happiness?  
7. And yet we have no great cause to wonder, that Religion should be so like the terrestrial Paradise, 
Religion a heaven ●pō●●●th.  seeing it is like to Heaven itself, which is in far greater honour. For indeed if we look well into the nature of a Religious life, it is a lively pattern of that happy and blissful habitation, and resembleth it in all points as near as possibly the living in this world can come near unto it. And because I will not have any man think that I speak this of my own head, 
S Lau Iust. 〈◊〉 pers. Mon. c. 6.  S. Laurence justinian shall speak for me, who hath a long & eloquent discourse to this purpose in the book which he wrote of Monastical perfection; and among other things he saith thus in express words: In all human things, and in this pilgrimage of ours, there is no such lively picture of our heavenly Country, as is Monastical conversation, and a Congregation dedicated to the service of God. 
S. Basil 〈◊〉 Const Mon c. 16.  And then confirmeth this his 〈◊〉 with many solid & evident proofs; which whosoever will, may read in him And ●. Basil was directly of the same opinion; for having made a long discourse of the excellency of a Religious life, in the end he concludes, that upon earth there is not any thing so great or so beautiful, as to deserve to be compared with it, and that therefore we must seek to heaven to have a likeness of it; because as in heaven all things are incorruptible, so also among Religious people; and as the Citizens of heaven love entirely together, so do Religious people.  
8. The first reason therefore of similitude between Heaven and Religion, if we follow S. Basil, 
Matt. 22.30.  is Incorruption, that is, Chastity, because as in heaven, they neither marry, nor are given in marriage, according to the saying of our Saviour, so neither in Religion. 
Incorruptions and Charity, 〈◊〉 the properties.  The second reason is Charity, and that perfect love and union, which is betwixt those happy Saints of heaven, grounded not in nature, or any natural inclination or motive, but in God alone, and his only love. And what is there upon earth that doth more perfectly resemble this love then Religion? where people do so absolutely concur in the selfsame mind and opinions, and have all manner of things so common among them, and love so entirely together, that (as I have often said, & must often repeat it) they seem not to be many souls, but one soul in many bodies, knit and united together, not for natural reasons or human respects and ends, as merchants, soldiers, and the like, but merely upon Charity, merely for the love of God. This Charity, as the Apostle speaketh, never sailing, 
1. Cor. 13 8.  shall last with us in heaven, and be the selfsame there, which is here upon earth; and consequently while we are on earth, it lively representeth the state which we shall enjoy in heaven. 
S. Io Chry 〈…〉  S. john Chrysostom speaking in commendation of Religious people, doth not stick to say, that they have made choice of a heavenly kind of life, and are not worse disposed than the Angels (for so are his words) because as in the Angels there is no distemper, neither do some grieve while others rejoice, but are all of them joyful with one and the selfsame gladness and quiet, so it happeneth for all the world in Monasteries. And S. Basil delivering his mind yet more plainly, compareth the life, which Religious people lead in common, with the life of the Angels, and giveth this reason for it, because all enjoy the selfsame spiritual riches and treasures; which, because they are spiritual, may without diminution be equally possessed by all, and therefore, saith he, Religion is a lively representation of heaven, and giveth us a taste in this life of the happiness which is to come.  

Obedience  9 What shall we say of the similitude which Religion hath with that perfect subjection, in which all that are in heaven live under God, all their wills being wholly and most admirably absorbed in his will, and holding it for the only rule of all their actions and motions? For in like manner Religion cutteth off and rooteth out by the vow of Obedience all will of our own; and by virtue of that vow, the will of God, by the ministry of man, swayeth and ruleth in all things.  

Povertie;  10. Povertie also hath a hand in this resemblance; for as they that are in heaven take no thought for gold nor silver, but mind only the spiritual treasures which they enjoy: 
And Vni 〈…〉  so Religious people shake off all earthly things, and glory most of all, that they are masters of nothing.  
11 Moreover in that heavenly Palace all have one kind of employment, and one business, to wit, to love God, and continually to praise him. This is that which Religion's people also aim at, and labour for; to this end they forsake the world, 
 to attend & see that God is sweet; to this they wholly apply themselves, and this is the reason, as S. Denys writeth, why from the beginning they were called Monks, to the end their name, derived from unity, might signify the unity of the Soul with God, which Religious discipline worketh in us. Wherefore, 
S Aug. in Ps. 148.  as S. Augustin saith, that they that are in heaven are blessed, because they do nothing but praise God, they do not plough, nor sow the ground, nor go to mil, because they are works of necessi●●●, and there is no necessity; nor they do not rob nor steal, nor commit adultery, because they be works of iniquity, and there is no iniquity: So we may say of Religion. For first, Iniquity hath no place in Religion; and as for Necessity, it is for the most part shut out by abandoning all desire of earthly things; and for the rest which remaineth, it is directed wholly to the glory of God, which of itself is to praise God, and consequently they never cease praising him. For, as the same S. Augustin delivereth, 
S. Aug. in Ps. 146.  Thou praisest God when thou goest about business; thou praisest God when thou eatest, and when thou drinkest, thou praisest God, when thou dost rest in thy bed, and when thou sleepest.  
12. Finally it is no small resemblance of a heavenly life, 
Heavenly conversation.  that a Religious Soul imitateth the conversation of those that are in heaven, as S Bernard discourseth in a certain place, as when it worshippeth and adoreth God alone, as the Angels; 
S. Bernard serm. 7. in Cant.  it is chaste, as the Angels, and that in fl●sh of sin, and this frail body, as the Angels are not; finally when it seeketh and mindeth the things which are with them, and not that which is upon earth. And the same S. Bernard not without great reason applying those words of the apocalypse to our Saviour (I saw the holy City Jerusalem, 
S. Bernard. Ibid. Apoc. 21.2.  new, descending from heaven) saith, that when he came down from heaven to teach us upon earth the conversation which is in heaven, he brought in himself a perfect pattern and visible pourtraicture of that heavenly Jerusalem; 
S Bernard. Ibid.  & giveth the reason, why he saith so, in these words: The Heavenly Man did not appear in vain, seeing of earthly people he made so many heavenly ones like himself. Because from that time we live here on earth after the manner of them that are in heaven; while to the likeness of that heavenly and blissful Creature, this also which came from the utmost bounds of the earth to hear the wisdom of Solomon, cleaveth to her heavenly husband with chaste love.  
13. The last resemblance which Religion hath with Heaven, is in joy and felicity. 
Heavenly joy & felicity in Religion.  For though there must of necessity be great difference in the quantity & excess of this joy, because in heaven we shall see God face to face, and here we see him by a glass in a dark 〈◊〉; Yet the joy here is not only very great, but of the selfsame nature with that which is in heaven; 
1. Cor. 1●. 12.  for they both proceed from one fountain, and have the selfsame objects, to wit, not flesh and blood, or any thing created, but God only, who is infinite, and the Sovereign Good of al.  
14 And here we might spin out a long discourse concerning the abundance, and multiplicity, and assuredness, and solidity, and perpetuity, of the joys which are in Religion but that we have spoken sufficiently of them in all that which go●● before. 
Religious people dwell in the gates of heaven.  Yet upon that which hath been hitherto said, we may justly conclude, that no State can be fuller of all kind of happiness than a Religious life; specially seeing it so lively resembleth the joys & life of heaven, that we may truly say, we are continually tasting of them, yea plentifully feeding upon the excessive felicities which there we shall enjoy, & fitly apply to this purpose that verse of the Royal Prophet: Bless our Lord, 
Ps. 13●.  all y●e servants of our Lord, who stand in the house of our Lord, in the courts of the house of our God. Where inviting the servants of God to the praises of him, he distinguisheth them into two ranks: Some he placeth in the house of God, others in the outward courts. The first are they that dwell in Heaven, which is the proper Mansion-house of God; Religious people are the second, that stand, as I may say, in the court-yard of the heavenly Palace. They are not yet in the house, but next door to it, and in a manner in the porch or entry; where they have two great commodities: First, that unless they will needs give back, they may both easily & quickly get into the house, when their turn comes; and secondly, bordering so near upon that Heavenly habitation, they cannot choose but have part very often of the many commodities and dainties, which that house affordeth, as so many crumbs falling from a table richly furnished.   

An answer to certain Objections, which are wont to be made against Religion; and first: That few enjoy these Comforts. CHAP. XV.  
IF the World could speak for itself, or had Counsel that were not blind and deaf with too much love of the World I make no doubt, but it would yield to Religion all that which I have said, not only of the dignity of it, but of the immensity and abundance of the joys and comforts, which are in it. For it were not only impudency, but scarce the conceit of a man, but of a beast, to value the pleasures of the body, and the itching delight, which grows from these base inferior things, above true and solid contentment of mind grounded in God, who is the only true good, and the good of all goodness; this contentment and delight of mind being that savoury Manna, which the goodness of God raineth down from heaven upon those that he leads out of Egypt into the Desert.  
2. But because, as we said before, both in our passage out of the land of Egypt, and afterwards, there want not them, that stand in our way and oppose us, Pharaoh with his horse and his whole army on the one side, and the Philistians & jebusaeans ō the other, it remaineth that we now endeavour to discover their plots, which is half the victory, and break their weapons in pieces, which they arm against us. And first we will g●e in hand with that objection which is usual: That all cannot be partakers of the pleasures & delights, which we have discoursed of; a few rare men only attain unto them by the special favour of Almighty God, & by long fasting and continual punishing of their body; the rest that are of the ordinary sort of people, and but of a mean strain in Virtue, are far from feeling any such kind of sweetness, & never indeed taste of the delights we speak of. For confutation of this error (for I can call it no other) we must first suppose, that whatsoever hath been said in all this Treatise, either of the benefit, or excellency, or pleasantness of a Religious life, is to be understood of the State itself, and not of particular men. For what is it to the purpose, 
The State i● happy, though men be la●ie.  if men be lazy and careless, and suffer themselves to want in the midst of all plenty and abundance, & to starve for hunger at a ful board of dainties? Of which kind of people the holy-ghost speaketh in the Proverbs thus: 〈◊〉 slothful man hide●● his Land under his armpit, and doth not put 〈◊〉 to his mouth. For in like manner Religious people are not far to seek for the goods which abound in Religion, 
Proverb. 19 14.  but have them ready carved to their hand; it is their part to make use of them, and to put them as meat to their mouths; if they will not take so little pains as is required to make use of them, the fault is their own, if they be in want, & not the State's; the State itself is fol fraught with excellent commodities; if they remain empty and naked, they must blame themselves. When Natural Philosophers discourse of the constitution of a man's body, they discourse of it as it is by nature, entire and perfect, with hands, & arms, and legs, and feet, and all the rest of the limbs belonging to a perfect body; if any particular man want a hand, or an eye, or a foot, or any other part, they take no notice of it, nor make any reckoning of it, because their aim is to teach that, which is natural to the thing they treat of: So treating of Religion, we show what profit & pleasure the State is apt & wont naturally to produce and afford; if there be any particular man, in whom it worketh not this wont effect, 
Few that find not comfort.  the fault is in the man, not in the State. And yet I dare undertake, that the number of these slothful and lazy people is far less, than the number of them that take comfort in Religion; because it is one of the happinesses and benefits of a Religious life to rowse-up the spirits of them, that are drowsy and negligent; to put life into them, that are slow and dull; and set them on fire, that are cold and lumpish.  
3. But perhaps they that make this objection, intent only to say, that the rapts or trances, and ecstasies and miracles, which they hear of, or read in the lives of a S. Antony, or S. Dominick, or S. Francis, or some other great Saints of special note, be peculiar to such rare men as they were, and happen not to all Religious people.  
4. And this I willingly grant; neither was it ever my meaning to say otherwise; nor if we consider the matter right, 
Miracles & Ecstasies happen not to al.  is it any disparagement to Religion, that all have not these extraordinary gifts. For as the fertileness of a piece of ground appears, if it naturally yield a hudred for one; and if any particular man reap not so much, the goodness of the soil is not the cause of it, but the negligence or want of skill of him that ploughs it, or tills it not as it ought to be tilled: The same of Religion; of itself it is a fat soil, and the goodness of it appears chiefly, and to the admiration of all the world, in such eminent Saints as they are, whom we mentioned; if we do not find the like profit by it, we cannot lay any blame upon Religion, but the fault is in us. And yet this very consideration ought in reason to animate & encourage us to be the more diligent, knowing what plenty of fruit we may reap of our labours, and what abundance others have reaped. And no doubt but though we never arrive to taste of those extraordinary and unwonted joys & pleasures, 
Yet all may have comfort.  which those admirable Saints did seel, we may notwithstanding find no small comfort in Religion, and indeed abundantly enough to fill us. For though we have not the marks of the siue wounds of our Saviour printed in our body, as some of them have had, or be not rapt to the third heaven, or suffer not excess of mind in prayer, and the like; Yet it is ordinary, and easy also to take so much pleasure in reading of spiritual books, in prayer, in contemplation of the Mysteries of our Faith, and such holy Exercises, that we would not exchange the delight which we find in them, for all the delights which are in the world, though they were ten thousand times more than they are. For these Divine jousts & comforts of God are like the Oil, which was multiplied by the Prophet Elizaeus: 
4. R●g 4.  they run so long as there are empty vessels to receive them; & though the vessels which are presented, are some of them but small, and not so many as might be filled, yet so long as any are offered, this heavenly oil doth not cease to run; & that which is derived by this means into our souls, be it never so little, according to the proportion and capacity of the vessel which we present, is notwi●standing wonderful sweet and pleasant.  

God is not a niggard in his spiritual 〈◊〉.  5. We may add, that they that are so full of these fears and doubts, lest God should sell his spiritual delights at too dear a rate, have a mean and unworthy conceit of his infinite goodness and bounty, taking him to be close-fisted, as I may say, & of a covetous disposition, which is far from the bountifulness of his nature. They should rather reflect, how freely, and liberally, and profusedly he poureth forth the rest of his benefits for the sustenance of this natural life of ours. He maketh the Sun to rise day by day, and giveth rain to the earth in due season; he furnisheth the world with plenty of corn, and wine, & oil, and all other fruits, not only sufficiently to supply our necessities, but abundantly for pleasure and pastime. And upon whom doth he bestow these things? Upon men that blaspheme his holy name; upon men that are wicked and ungodly, or at least for the most part ungrateful; upon them that receiving so many inestimable benefits at his hands, think not once of him, and oftimes abuse his gifts to his dishonour and reproach. Seeing therefore God is so large and bountiful in the goods which serve but for this natural life, why should he not be in like manner liberal and profuse in the goods which serve for our spiritual life, a life far more noble and excellent, and for which he voluntarily descended from the throne of heaven, and died willingly upon the Cross, to the end we might be partakers of it? We see what kind of people were invited to that sumptuous Banquet so royally & magnificently set forth in the Gospel. Did he call the rich and noble only, or people clad in cloth of gold and silver? 
In● 14. ●1.  Go forth, saith he, quickly into the streets and lanes of the Citt●e; & the poor, and ●eeble, and blind, and lame, bring in hither. Who be these seeble, and blind, & poor people (to interpret the Parable spiritually as we ought) but such as are imperfect, and but Novices for matter of spirit, too weak-sighted to fix their eyes attentively upon heavenly things, and too feebly underlaid to run the ways of Religious discipline, and finally but slenderly provided of virtue, and poor in all spiritual graces? And yet these are not only not excluded from the sweetness of this banquet, but unexpectedly invited, and entreated, and, as the Gospel speaketh, compelled to go in. Let no man therefore fear, when he is called to Religion, that he shall be kept fasting from those plentiful fruits, which we have mentioned, or forced to labour too long in digging for this current of living water.  

Advantages of Religious life.  6. For a Religious life hath many helps and furtherances towards these comforts. First it hath an advantage over a Secular life, which is of no small importance: that in a Secular life every one must get what he can by his own labour & industry; but in Religion, the State itself furnisheth us with many graces, and putteth them, as I may say, into our bosom, when we think not of them. And besides the good which we do ourselves, we have the help of the good deserts of our Brethren; which participation how beneficial it is, we have spoken at large elsewhere. The dignity of the State, & the favour in which it is with God, doth highly also endear us unto him; and that heroical act, when we resigned ourselves and all that belonged unto us, into the hands of our Creator; for this act alone is of more value & esteem, & weighs more with God, than many virtuous actions of a Secular body. And finally the promise of Christ is of great weight, & very considerable; for he hath promised a hundred-fold not only to such as live like an other S. Arsenius, or S. Hilarion, but absolutely to all that forsake all without addition or restriction, as we see. Which argument S. Bernard doth handle excellently well, 
S. Bernard 〈…〉  confuting this selfsame error & the vain fears, which they object, who say: He doth so indeed, I perhaps do not so: I am of a tender complexion; I am a sinner, & cannot go through with so much hardness without a great deal of grace, and have it not in me to deserve this grace; As if grace were not grace, but a reward of our work, as if all had not sinned, and stood in need of the grace of God. D●st thou think o man, that there is exception of persons with God? and that he doth not so plentifully comfort all those that have left all? Be not incredulous; yield at least to Truth, of whose testimony no faithful man can doubt. He saith: And every one that shall leave father or mother or house, or land for my name, shall receive a hundred-fold. Christ excepteth no man. They therefore are miserable that say: Beside us. It seems they think themselves unworthy of life everlasting, seeing they do not hope for so much as a hundred-fold. But because God, who promiseth it, is true the man is a liar, that mistrusteth it. Thus saith S. Bernard.  
7. But because beginners are they that are most of all subject to these fears, in regard their mind is yet dull in conceiving spiritual things, 
Beginnings most f●● of comfort.  and feeble in resisting the encounters which may occur, and clogged with the dregs of a secular life, we wilshew, that they have least cause of any body to fear, because the beginnings of a Religious life are always most full of comfort. For if we believe, as we ought, that the Divine goodness hath so much care over those that are his, that he carrieth them as it were in his arms, and in his bosom; we must needs grant, that it belongeth much more to the selfsame fatherly care and providence, to give this spiritual Infancy milk to drink, 
1. Cor 3.27  as the Apostle speaketh. For if, as Author of nature, he provided so carefully for our body, that as long as a child wants teeth and strength to feed itself, it should be fed with milk, which is so pleasing a sustenance, and so easy to be had without any labour of the child; shall we think that in the order of Grace, of which he is in like manner Author, he hath not had the like care of our soul while it is weak and feeble? For this is that which he promiseth of his own accord by the Prophet Esay: 
Esa. ult. 12.  You shall be carried at the breasts; and they shall make much of you upon their knees; as if a mother should make much of one, so will I comfort you. How could God express himself in more loving or more tender terms, then that, as infinite as he is, he disdaineth not to stoop to the tender affections, and services, and assiduity of a Nurse? Though in these words he doth not only express his love towards us, in that he compareth himself to a Mother; but comparing us to little infants, he giveth us moreover to understand, that we shall enjoy these heavenly comforts before we be able to deserve them. For what did a little infant, or what can it do, to deserve the love and good will of a mother, but only that it is her child, for which there is no thanks due to the child, but to the mother? And if we talk of merit, what did the Prodigal Child do, that could deserve so much cherishing at his father's hands, or so much as to be admitted to his sight? 
Luc. 15.  Rather he had done many things, by which he deserved to be deeply punished; and yet what joy was there upon his return? what feasting, what music, what singing? and that which doubtless to him was sweeter than all the rest, what fatherly compassion, what embracings, what kisses, what tears, what falling upon his neck? And, which is the more admirable, all these friendly offices were heaped upon that son, which had so unfriendly departed from his father's house, and lavished all that he had in riotous and vicious courses; whereas t●e other son & elder brother, that had neither in word nor deed ever given his father the least distaste, had never any thing given him, as himself complained.  
8. Which makes it so much the more evident, that it is so far from truth, that these Comforts are bestowed only upon the perfect, that oftimes they are bestowed in far greater abundance upon the imperfect, and upon them that come newly, as strangers, into the house of God. And the reason why the infinite wisdom and providence of God dealeth thus with man, 
S. Greg. 24.  is that which S. Gregory pointeth at in these words: 
Mar. c. 7.  It is the Divine grace which so dispenseth, lest in their beginnings they should be daunted with the roughness of temptation: because if the bitterness of temptation should seize upon them in the beginning, they would the easier return to what they had left, the less way they had gone from it, and suddenly again entangle themselves in the vices which are so near them. Whereupon it is written, that when Pharaoh dismissed the people, our Lord did not lead them by the way of the land of the Philistians, which was next them, forthinking lest it might repent them, if they had seen war rise against them, and so return into Egypt. The war therefore in the confines against them, that come out of Egypt, is prevented, because they that forsake the world, first meet with a kind of tranquillity, lest troubled in that their tenderness and beginning, they should return to that out of fear, which they had escaped.  
9 Finally to conclude with one thing more, which may agree as well to them that are Novices in a spiritual course, as to all others that are imperfect; God doth deal his favours in a different fashion from that which men do use. For men, both because their wealth and substance is limited, 
God● own goodness is the sole ground of his liberality.  and being communicated with others must needs grow less, and because themselves stand in need at other times of the help and favour of others, never almost bestow any thing upon others, but in regard of some good office which they hope-for at their hands, or which they have already received. But God standing in need of nothing, and abounding with infinite wealth, which never can be exhausted by giving, hath no other motive of being bountiful towards his creatures, but his own loving nature and goodness, infinitely inclined to do good to others. This is that which draws him to be so liberal, and so royal in his gifts, & so openhanded towards all, and not to regard so much the deserts of men in it, as his own goodness and bounty. This is also the ground of that other noble and more admirable proceeding of his, to wit, that oftimes he poureth forth his gifts more largely upon them that are not so perfect, and have not profited so much in virtue, then upon others, not that they have deserved better, but because they have more need. For he dealeth with us as a loving father, who though he tender the good of all his children, seemeth notwithstanding in a manner to take no thought for them that are in health; but if any of them be sick, he spares neither for physic nor physicians, nor the greatest dainties that can be gotten; Or as a husbandman, or gardener, that among the trees which he hath care of, looketh little after those that are well grown; but is continually watering, and fencing, and underpropping those that are weak and tender. The like & far greater love and care doth God show towards his servants, and maketh profession of it in the Gospel, 
Mat. 9 12.  when he saith: They that are in health, need not a Physician, but they that are i'll at ease.   

An answer to them that say: There be many hard things in Religion. CHAP. XVI.  
NOT only Sensual men, 
Phil. 3.  as the Apostle termeth them, that mind nothing but earthly things, have a horror of many things which they see in Religion, apprehending them to be wonderful hard and difficult; but the very face of Religious discipline at the first sight to the outward eye carrieth a sad and severe aspect, and is hateful to sense to behold. Which, were it not I am verily persuaded th●t few would refuse it, but rather most willingly & most greedily run unto it, because they cannot but see, that by undertaking such a course of life, they purchase for the present, tranquillity and peace of mind, they free themselves from worldly cares and troubles, and are in a manner assured of the glory of the life to come. But this outward show of hardness, which we speak of, doth so prevail with most men, that frighted with the conceit of it, they are contented to think, that the great commodities of Religion, deserve not to be bought with so much trouble, as they imagine to be in it. Seeing therefore the Devil hath scarce a more forcible engine to weaken this wholesome counsel, than this is, it will be worth our labour to show, how this kind of temptation, may be utterly reu●ised and defeated.  
2. And we have two ways to do it: 
Difficulties are 〈…〉 virtue.  the one is, to grant, yea to glory, that there be some things in Religion more hard and difficult then ordinary. For what life were it, if it lay continually steeped in sensualities, if there were nothing to be suffered in it, if it had not now and then a dash of trouble, if there occurred nothing that might give displeasure? If this were the manner of it, what commendation could a man give of it? Where should patience, fortitude, charity, and other virtues be exercised? What occasion should a man have of merit, and increase of his crown? A Religious life therefore is the more commendable, because it hath wherein to practise virtue, and by practice to increase it, and by increasing it, to have the greater reward.  
3. But yet, lest the imagination of this difficulty, 
Difficulties not felt in Religion.  which is so wholesome and profitable, make too much impression in our thoughts, we must understand, that all the difficulty which is in Religion, is so seazoned and allayed with diverse comforts, that it is apparent enough, for as much as concerns the merit of it, but the labour is not felt. In which respect we can never sufficiently admire and love the infinite wisdom & goodness of God, that, for the benefit of our souls, hath after so incredible a manner mingled & interlaced two things so contrary one to the other. For i● this kind of li●e were a course that were slack & easy, what commendation or reward, as I said, could it deserve? If on the other side it were excessive painful & laborious, who would abide it, specially considering the frailty of human na●ur●● The Lover therefore & Preserver of mankind hath so tempered the matter, that the selfsame thing should be in itself very hard & difficult, and yet wonderful sweet and pleasant, by reason of the admirable mixture of other things, that mitigate and allay it. Which our Saviour himself insinuateth, when resembling his service to a burden and a yoke, 
Matt. 11. ●●.  he saith, his yoke is sweet, and his burden light.  

The service of God conformable to nature and reason Rom. 7.12.  4. Which notwithstanding we must always bear in mind, that whatsoever difficulty we find in the service of God, the service of God is not the cause of it, but our corrupted flesh and affections which are always repining: Otherwise the service of God being so comformable to reason, must of necessity be pleasing to a man of reason. For one part of us taking delight in the law of God, as the Apostle speaketh, and this being the superior and more noble part of us, if it apply itself seriously, and use the diligence and endeavour which it may and aught, no doubt but it will be master, and keep the other part in awe, it being both inferior and created to obey. For first this very industry of ours, and diligent endeavour, which I speak of, is wonderful forcible of itself; and the ancient Philosophers do acknowledge it, among whom one speaketh thus: 
Seneca. l 1. daira c. 12.  N●thing is so hard and difficult, but the mind of man may overcome it, and make it famlliar by continual beating upon it. No motions are so wild and heady, but that order and discipline will tame them. Whatsoever command the mind lays vp●n itself, it goes through with it. Some have gotten of themselves never to laugh; others have debarred themselves of wine and women, and all ●ind of lick●ur; others have learned to walk upon small ropes, and to car●ie exce●●ue burdens, and such as in a manner are beyond the strength of man to carry, and to dive to an excessive depth, and pass the seas without drawing their breath. Another Philosopher writeth to the same purpose in this manner: 
Plutar●h. de prof. Vers.  They that learn to frame their manners uprightly, in the beginning fall perhaps into many errors, and perplexities, and difficulties; as they that leaving their own country, and not discovering as yet the land for which they are bound, at first are anxious; but soon after, all things grow easy and plain by practice, and by the light and cleernes which the Study of Philosophy bringeth with it.  

〈…〉 of the Grace of God.  5. And all this, as proceeding of custom and habit, is for the most part natural, what shall we say when Grace meets with Nature? The grace of God, I say, which is so forcible, that it makes a man quite an other man, and, as the Prophet speaketh, 
Ezech. 11.  poureth a new spirit into him, and in steed of a hart of stone, giveth him a hart of flesh, soft and flexible. Of which grace the Royal Prophet also saith: Our Lord w●l give virtue & fortitude to his people. 
P● 6●. ●6. ●s 141. Es. 40.31.  And again: Blessed be my Lord God, who reaches my hands to war●e, & my fingers to the fight And an other Prophet more plainly: They who hope in our Lord, shall change fortitude; they shall take wings like an eagle; they shall run, and shall not labour; they shall walk and not be faint. What can we desire more? He promiseth us not only feet to run, but wings to fly in this course, and that we shall not sain●, nor so much as labour in it. And an other Prophet doth in a manner exult & triumph, 
Heb. 3.19.  not in himself but in our lord God our Lord, saith he, is my strength. For as the light which the Air hath, is the light of the Sun; & it is not much material to the Air, whether it have light of itself, or borrow it of the Sun, so it be as useful to it, as if it had it of itself: So the power and strength of God is our power and strength, that is, we make use of it, as if it were our own; and therefore he is truly our strength. And what doth this strength work in us? He will put my feet, saith the Prophet, as the feet of stag's; that is, he will make us run with speed and facility, and without being weary, not only upon even ground, and over the plains, as others do, but in steep and craggy places; for so he saith: And he as a Conqueror will lead me over high places, singing psalms. He will fight for us, he will overcome our enemies for us, & put them to rout; he will lead us in this way, not only without labour, but singing psalms of perpetual joy and thanksgiving.  
6. And here by the way I cannot but call to mind, what effect this very Saying of the Prophet wrought once in Andrew Spinola, 
Andrew Spinola.  before he entered into our Society. For being then a man grown, and as himself was wont to moan himself in an humble jesting manner, 
Io. 5.5  having thirty and eight years in his infirmity, when he began to think of forsaking the world; & many reasons thronging into his mind, to fright him, and beat him off from his purpose, as the consideration of the little health which he had, his custom of being well tended, & daintily fed, the nobleness of his birth, the greatness of his place in the Church of God, the hardness of Religious discipline, and diverse others; upon the sudden God of his goodness put this verse of the Prophet into his mind: He will put my feet as of stags; and withal as with a clear ray of heavenly light, he was so enlightened, that, as himself afterwards related, all those fearful and distrustful cogitations vanished away in a moment, and he remained resolute in his purpose, & fully armed against all the fears and incommodities which before had so possessed his imagination; and within a short time found by experience effect of it. For whereas before, when he was yet a Secular man, he came sometimes to eat at our board, as being our great friend, & many things went against his stomach, in regard he had been used to a more dainty kind of fare & to be served in silver, & was extraordinary curious in his own house. Entering afterwards into our Society, he was no sooner set at table, but every thing seemed otherwise, the linen showed extraordinary white, the dishes shined like silver, & the dining-room, as he thought, was perfumed; & he made no question within himself, but the rector of the house had of purpose commanded things to be provided in that manner, contrary to our wont custom, to help his extraordinary infirmity; and friendly expostulated the matter in earnest at that time with the rector, and often afterwards was wont to speak of this his error to his friends in familiar conversation.  
7. This promise therefore of the holy-ghost, which wrought so strongly in the hart of this good man, aught in reason to sway as much with every body else, and of itself alone were indeed sufficient to encourage any body, were he never so infirm and weak. But to return to our former discourse, by this we may see, that the Grace of God doth so temper the hardness, which seems to be in Religion, that really it is not felt, but is rather pleasant, and to be desired. And it is no such great wonder that it should be so. For if there be an art to sweeten sour fruits, and to put a delicious taste into an unsavoury gourd, or such like green and ●ar●h ●uvcie commodities, tempering them with sugar, or honey, or the like preservers; shall we think that in Christian Religion, there is no art to take away 〈◊〉 difficulties, which flesh and blood suggest? Certainly there is; and an art fa●re easier to learn and put in practice, than the other, in regard it wholly depends of the min●; which if it be once resolved, nothing is hard unto it, but all things easy and obvious.  
8. And to make it so evident that no body shall be able to deny it, let us consider the means which Religion useth, to allay these difficulties, & to sweeten them; 
The consideration of heaven, a special ●●eetner of difficulties.  for it is a matter which doth much import. Among many ways therefore, which it hath very effectual to this purpose, first it sets before our eyes the immensity of the rewards of heaven due to our labours, the e●etnitie of them, the infinite felicity, which there we shall enjoy; and by these considerations inflames us with the love of that heavenly happiness, which once enkindled, makes all labour no labour at all S. Augustin discoursing at large and rarely (as he is wont) of this subject, in one of his Sermons bringeth many examples of men, that for human ends have suffered inhuman and cruel things, as to be cut, and lanced, & burned, to prorogue a few uncertain days of this life: of soldiers, that for a small stipend run upon the pikes and into the very mouth of death: of huntsmen, that for a short pleasure put themselves to excessive labour and toil; 
S. Aug. s 9 〈…〉. 19  and concludeth thus: How much more assuredly and more easily shall Charity, in regard of true Beatitude, effect that which worldly pretences, as much as they were able, have effected to our misery? How easily may whatsoever temporal adversity be endured, to avoid eternal punishment, and to purchase eternal quiet? Thus saith S. Augustin, and much more to the same effect; which it seemeth that great S. Francis understood very well, and in one word expressed it once very lively. F●r his carnal brother, and indeed truly carnal, seeing him once in the midst of winter half naked, as he was, shivering for cold, sent one unto him with a bitter jest (mo●e bitter indeed then was fit to come from a brother) to ask him, how he would sell him a dram of that sweat of his. 
S. Francis.  But the Saint returned answer with a cheerful countenance in these words: Tell my brother, that I have sold it all already to my Lord God, it a very dear price. And after some years, the same Saint being much tormented with excessive pain in his body, and grievously assaulted withal by the Devil with new strange devices, that it was not almost possible for flesh and blood to bear it; a voice from heaven spoke unto him, and ba● him be of good cheer, because by those afflictions he purchased to himself so much treasure, that though all the earth should be turned into gold, all the stones into diamonds, and all the water into balsam, it were not comparable unto it. At which voice he was so revived, that he felt no more pain, but instantly calling his Brethren unto him, for joy related what heavenly comfort he had received. What pain therefore, or what trouble can there be in Religion, which such a thought will not easily blow over, seeing it was able so suddenly to allay and quite take away so unsufferable & so lasting a pain, 
Night-feares.  as S. Francis at that time endured?  
9 Let us conclude therefore with S. Bernard, that this fear, which, as he speaketh, is wont to shake the beginnings of our conversion, & which the horror of so austere a life, and the austereness of so unwonted exercises, thrusts upon us at our entrance, 
S Bernard s. 33. in Cā●.  is that Night-feare, which the Royal Prophet mentioneth in his ninetieth Psalm; and is therefore called a Night-feare, because, if the day did shine upon us, & in that heavenly light we did compare the labours of Religion with the rewards which we expect in heaven, the fear of the labour would be nothing in regard of the desire of the rewards considered in a clear light. 
Rom. 8.18.  For the passions of this time are not condign to the future glory, which shall be revealed in us. But now, saith S. Bernard, because they are hidden from our eyes, and the night is still in our Hemisphere, we are tempted by the Night-feare, & are afraid to suffer the present evils, for the good, which as yet we do not see. 10. This is the first salve & remedy, 
Abundnace of spritual comfort.  which God hath provided for us, to allay the difficulties which occur in Religion. Another is the abundance of spiritual comforts, whereof I have spoken before. And it is, as if a body should seek a drop of water in a great vessel of wine; for the troubles which are incident to a Religious life, are so wholly drowned & absorbed in the abundance of the sweetness of it, that it tastes of nothing but sweetness. To which purpose S. Bernard alluding to a saying of the Apostle, & among diverse other commodities of Religion, touching briefly upon this particular, 
S. Bern. de convers. Cler. c. 30.  saith thus: The passions of this time are not condign to our sins past and forgiven us; nor to the present comfort of grace, which is given us; nor to the future glory which is promised us. Finally there is no bitterness so great in it, which the slower cast-in by the Prophet doth not sweeten, which Wisdom, the tree of life, doth not season. And we shall the more easily believe all this to be true, & not hard to compass, if we consider, that the difficulties which are in Religion, are but small, & in petty matters, if we weigh them right. For all difficulties of greater consequence, 
Difficulties in Religion are trifles.  such as are so ordinary, and so distasteful in the world, happening between man & wife, and upon other occasions of marriage, & sinister accidents, by loss of goods, impeachment of our credit and good name, & the like, are far from a Religious life. And moreover the goodness and mercy of God is such towards us, that the more misery we suffer for his sake, the more spiritual joy and comfort he sends us; 
Dan. 14.  as when Daniel was in the Den with the Lions without all means of relief, he provided him a dinner from a far-off, and sent it in unto him. For it is a general rule with God, and a constant manner of proceeding which he holds, to measure comforts by tribulations; and King David professeth that he felt it so: 
Ps. 93.19.  According to the greatness of my griefs in my hart, thy comforts have rejoiced my soul.  
11. And it is so usual & so settled a course with him, that he hath oftimes miraculously showed it in diverse Religious persons; as once in one Raband a great Prince in France, who was confirmed in his resolution for Religion by this notable miracle. For having been accustomed in the world to an easy life & dainty fare, 
A general rule 〈◊〉 God to meas●●● 〈…〉  being entered into Religion he began to shrink at the hardness of that course. Whereupon the Abbot Porcarius, that then was, condescending to his infirmity, caused some particular dish to be always prepared for him more daintily dressed then the rest; & yet the more he fe●, the more he pined away, & grew wonderful thin. It happened on a time, that while the rest of the Brethren were set at board, & fell hard to their dry bread & beans, 
Raband.  he saw two ancient men come into the room, the one of them was high-forheaded & had two keys about his neck; the other was a Monk, as appeared by his habit, & had a box of crystal in his hand. Both of them going round about the ro●me, gave everse one of the Monks a morsel of something out of that box & when they came to Raband, they looked upon him with a frowning & angry countenance, & overslipped him But he stealing a little from his neighbour's trencher, and tasting of it, found it sweeter than any thing that he had ever ●asted either in Religion or in the world. And when this had happened thrice unto him, he went to his Ab●o●, & inquired of him, who these two ancient men might be. The Abbot presently perceaving what the business was, told him that the one was S. Peter, Patron of their Monastery▪ & the other Honoratus the Founder of it, & that the reason, why he had not his part of that dish with the rest, was, because he did not observe the rigour of ●he O●der with the rest. Which Raband hearing, reserved to abide the utmost of it, and found it far less and easier than he thought it had been: and not long after he saw the same Saints again making their circuit, and they gave him part of that swe●t-meate with the rest, 
An●r●w 〈…〉.  which did incredibly animate him to go through with whatsoever difficulty should occur ever af●er.  
12. The like almost happened to Andrew archdeacon of 〈◊〉, a man nobly descended, and rich; who in the beginning almost of the Cistercian Order entered into it with great fervour. But the Devil taking occasion to tempt him by reason of his tender complexion, and pressing him so hard, that he was realie to yield, God of his infinite goodness sent him this remedy. When he was at board, they set before him, a● they did to the rest, a dish, which of all mertes he could not abide: but being very hungry, he forced himself to take a little of it; and as soon as he had put it to his mouth, it tasted so sweet, that to his remembrance he never felt the like, and eating it up all, he afterwards went to his Abbot, thinking that they had put some particular thing into his mess above the rest. But when he understood that the dish was the same, and was dressed but with water and salt, as the others were, he fell into the reckoning that it was the goodness and providence of God, that had so ordained; and giving him humble thanks, he was confirmed in his purpose of persevering in Religion, and so much the more, because he felt the like sweetness in those kinds of meat for diverse days after, insomuch that he often said, that now he took more contentment in feeding upon beans & pease and herbs, than before in his wild fowl and such kind of dainties.  
13. This happened to these two particular men. The whole household was witness of that which we read in the life of S. Bernard, when upon the first founding of the Monastery of 〈◊〉, though they did lead a wonderful austere life, & fed upon bread that was half earth, 
S. Bernard's Monastery.  and dwelled in a house that was marvellous poor, and poorly furnished for household-stuff and victuals, yet they all lived not only without any grudging, but with such extraordinary delight and contentment, that they had a scruple of it; because, as they said, ●iuing with more pleasure in the wilderness, than they did before in the world, they conceived they had cause ●o suspect, lest they were lead a wrong way into their Country; till having opened their case first to S. Bernard, and then to the Bishop of Chalons, who then lodged in their house, they were informed at large, that it was the gift of God, and not to be rejected. Whereby we may see, what custom, together with the grace of God, can do, seeing it was so forcible, as to make so rigid a life seem to such a multitude so sweet, that they had a scruple, lest they lived too easily.  
14. Who therefore can hereafter think, that a Religious life can be any thing hars●, & that a body may not go through with it with joy & contentment, seeing God doth season it with so many helps & comforts? Though what need we stand so long upon our defence for a Religious State in this kind? as if Secular people, in whose behalf these objections are made against Religion, 
The difficulties of a Secular life intolerable.  had nothing to suffer, no sorrow, no grief to struggle with; whereas indeed their sorrows, and miseries, and afflictions are far greater, and not only the poorer sort among them, and they that have small means to live on, and a heavy charge of household and children lying upon them, groan under this burden; but they that have the world at will, and are generally accounted happy, though outwardly they make a fair show, are inwardly galled with infinite troubles & vexations. And their sorrows are the more intolerable, because they are destitute of heavenly comforts, without which it is a very hell to live. What likelihood is there of any such thing in Religion? the causes of whatsoever trouble may happen, being wonderful slight in themselves, and easy to take away, and sometimes such, as it is better to contemn them, or laugh at them, or perhaps to love them, & willingly to embrace them. On the one side therefore the occasions of difficulty in Religion are very small, and in a manner nothing; and on the other side, the comforts so abundant in our Saviour Christ, that they are able to sweeten a whole sea of distastes and troubles, if there were any such in Religion.  
15. Wherefore S. Bernard doth excellently to this purpose apply the Ceremony of anointing Crosses with Oil, which is used in Consecrating Churches; and saith, that the like is done in the minds of Religious people by the grace of God. It is necessary, saith he, that the Unction of spiritual grace help our infirmity, 
S Bernard servant 1 de Ded. Eccl.  anointing the crosses of our observances and several pennances with the grace of devotion: because without a Cross it is not possible to follow Christ, nor without Unction possible to endure the harshness of a Crosse. Hence it is, that many abhor and shun penance, 
Crosses and Unction go together.  seeing the Cross and not seeing the Unction. You that have tried what it is, know that in very deed our Cross is anointed, & by the grace of the Spirit which helpeth us, our penance is sweet and delightful, and, as I may say, our bitterness savoury.  
16. And in an other place discoursing of the same matter more at large he saith, that the Soul of a Religious man being beautiful within, and humble and contemptible without, was figured by the Tabernacle, which was among the Children of Israel. For within, it was guilded all over; but without, there was nothing of it but covers of sackcloth and sheepskins; and as that kind of covering, 
Exod. 26.  though it were contemptible to the eye, served to keep the Tabernacle from the dust and the rain: So the outward humble fashion of Religious people preserves their inward glory; 
G●n. 22.  and every such Soul may say truly of itself: I am black, but beautiful. Then he brings the example of Isaac, who, though he came to be sacrificed, was not sacrificed, but a ram in steed of him, and his life preserved; and he lived so much the more joyfully, by how much the promise and hope of posterity was now settled upon him. For in like manner Religious people seem to debate themselues of all contentment, and yet their contentment is not indeed cut of, but vice and rebellion; and the horns of this Sacrifice entangled in the thorns, show that sin and contumacy can never be without remorse and vexation. But Isaac, saith he, living shall live, lifted up upon the wood; to the end that thou also placing t●v●ioy on high, mayst glory not in thy own flesh, but in the Cross of our Lord. This is the conversation of the perfect, this is the life of Saints; finally, saith one, as sorrowful, 
2. Cor 6.10  but always glad; as having nothing and possessing all; as dying, and behold we live.  
17. The Abbot Abraham in Cassian holdeth the like discourse in those words: They that serve God devoutly and faithfully, 
Cass. C●l. ult. c. 25.  having taken the yoke of our Lord upon them, and learned of him, that he is meek and humble of hart, as it were casting off the burden of their earthly affections shall find by the help of God no labour, but rest in their souls. The crooked ways shall be presently made straight, and the rugged ways plain, and tasting they shall see that our Lord is sweet, and hearing Christ in the Gospel crying aloud: Come to me all you that labour and are burdened, and I will refresh you; casting of the weight of their sins, they shall understand that which follows: My yoke is sweet, and my burden light And certainly if we compare the beautiful flower of Virginity, 
The yoke of Christ sweet.  and the fragrant purity of Chastity, with the foul and stinking slows and hogsties of carnal pleasures; the quiet and security which Monks enjoy, with the dangers and miseries in which worldlings are ingulfed; the repose which our poverty brings us, with the gnawing griefs and restless cares of rich people, which day and night not without danger of their lives do torment them, we shall easily grant, that the yoke of Christ is exceeding sweet, and his burden extraordinary light. Thus saith Cassian.  

The grace of God carries this yoke for us.  18. Where then is that harshness, where be those troubles, which Satan, to fright men, doth so mightily aggravate against us? Are not all things rather so full of pleasure, that they take away all feeling of difficulty and incommodity, or in a manner all? Wherefore to conclude in brief, as if a man had a great deal of luggage, and another should carry it for him, he should have all the benefit, and the other all the labour: So in this burden of Religion, the reward is ours, and yet we have no trouble by it, 
1. Cor. 15.10.  because another carrieth the burden for us. Which is not mine but S. Paul's conceit; for having reckoned-up the many incommodities and difficulties which he endured through poverty, nakedness, travail, persecution, and the like, he addeth: Not I, but the grace of God with me; acknowledging and openly proclaiming, that it was not himself, but God that brought to pass those great things in him.  

S. Ber. Ser. Q●ha●it.  19 Wherefore we must allow of that which S. Bernard saith, when rehearsing to his Brethren the labours which they endured, and daily mortifications, by much fasting, often sweeting, watching above measure, besides those things which are inward, contrition of hart, and multitudes of temptations, he addeth, that it is not for their benefit to have these heavy and burdensome things lessened, 
A cruel kind of compassion.  because if their penance be lessened, their crown by little and little will lose the precious stones which are in it: and calleth it a cruel kind of compassion, in regard that the taking away of a small quantity of seed, comes to no small loss in the harvest. What remedy? The remedy is, that the labour remain, and yet become savoury by the sweetness, which God doth give it; because if your tribulation, saith he, do abound for him, your comfort also will abound through him, and your soul be delighted in him, which in these things refuseth comfort. For with him tribulation itself may be found to be great consolation. For is it not most cetain, that that which you endure is above the strength of man, 
Heb. 1.3.  beyond nature, contrary to custom? Another therefore doth bear these things; he doubtless, who according to the Apostle, carrieth all things by the word of his power. What therefore should we fear, if he be with us, that carrieth all things? All this is of S. Bernard.  
20. Let no man therefore accustom his eyes hereafter to behold the outside only of a Religious life, which seems somewhat harsh, but let him look also into the inward sweetness, & acknowledge, that there is such plenty of grace belonging unto it, 
Custom makes hard things easy  to qualify and allay the harshness, and to strengthen us to bear it, that it goes far beyond all the hardness and difficulty, which can be imagined in it, specially when a man is a little accustomed unto it; for use and custom doth as it were harden us, & take away the feeling of pain, & makes virtue familiar and pleasant. Which familiarnes S. Augustin doth fitly express by the word (Embrace) & layeth down the effects of it in these words: 
S August. Ep. 37.  When Wisdom hath once bound a man, & tamed him with certain laborious exercises, it afterwards unbinds him, & gives him free liberty to enjoy himself; & nurturing him first in temporal bonds, binds him afterwards with eternal embracings, than which bonds nothing can be imagined more delightful, or more solid. The first bonds, I confess, are a little hard; the second, I cannot say they are hard, because they are sweet, nor soft, because they are strong. Whereas the bonds of this world have in them true harshness, false delight, uncertain pleasure, hard labour, timorous quiet, the thing itself full of misery, and a deceitful hope of happiness. Beware thou thrust not thy neck, thy hands, they feet, into these fetters.   

An answer to them that object, that Religious people bar themselves of the pleasures of this life. CHAP. XVII.  
Upon the former grounds we may easily answer another imputation, which people lay upon Religious courses, to wit, that they deprive a man of whatsoever is comfortable to flesh and blood. For though it be true (as it hath been sufficiently proved) that no state under the cope of heaven is so capable, and so fruitful of spiritual delights as Religion is; yet it may perhaps stumble some body, that there is no place in it for the delights of Sense, without which the joy, which man hath upon earth, is maimed, and as it were lame of one side. For Man being a compound of body & soul, there want not them, that think they are never well, though their mind feast it, if their flesh, as I may say, be kept fasting. And it sticks the more in their stomach, because the pleasures of the mind are airy & subtle, & not so easy to be perceived; the pleasures of Sense are more palpable, and plain for every body to see; so that if a man have the fi●st only, he hath in a manner nothing: but he that hath plenty of these latter, is generally accounted happy. 
This temptation figured in the murmuring jews.   
2. This kind of temptation, in my judgement, was fore signified in the Children of Israel, when having Manna from heaven in that abundance, that all the country round about was full of it and they were to be at no further trouble or care, then to gather it; & it being besides in itself a very savoury kind of sustenance, as being made by the hands of Angels, 
Num. 21.5.  what did the common-people say notwithstanding of it, and how did they murmur? Our soul, say they, doth now loathe over this light kind of meat. For being carnally given, they sighed after the fleshpots of Egypt; & because those meats stuffed up their bellies, they preferred them before the food of heaven, & thought this but light stuff in comparison of that other.  
3. For the cure of which error, or rather madness, we must consider, that all the inconvenience which is here objected, depends of people's imaginations, conceiting that he, that is barred of the pleasures of the body, wants s●me great matter; and the very name of Want, upon the first apprehension, is apt to breed Sorrow and discontent; because it is as much to say, as, I have not that which were much to be desired, 
A man wants not that which he desires not.  or which is necessary; which yet is not always true. For it happeneth oftentimes, that we have not diverse things, which we have no need of, nor have no great desire of them. For example, a man hath not feathers like a bird, nor horns like a beast, nor scales like a fish, nor diverse other things which other creatures have; neither do we desire to have them, or because we have them not, do we think ourselves the worse. The matter therefore is in our desire, and consequently he that desires not a thing, want it not, And so they, that are desirous of honour or wealth, if they have it not, are troubled, because they want it: but they that desire it not, cannot be said to want it, because they are not sorry they have it not.  
4. And further, it is much more delightful not to desire a thing, then to desire it, 
It is more delightful to desire a thing then to have it.  and withal to have it. For so we see, that they that are mad after their bodily pleasures, when they have their fill of them, take much more pleasure in abstaining from them, then in continuing in them. Is it not therefore much better to do that betimes, which time brings them to choose? and out of virtue, and upon good advice to resolve upon that before hand, which disordered fullness forceth them unto? And yet we cannot grant, that they are both filled alike to their contentment. For if we speak of the fulfilling of our desires (in which people imagine that all happiness consists) they that desire nothing, have their desire much more perfectly fulfilled, than they that desire a thing and have it. Which S. john Chrysostome reckons among the rest of the commodities of a Religious life; for with these worldly kind of people, 
S. Io Chry. l. 2. contra vitup. vit. m●n.  it is, saith he, as if a man should be so thirsty, that before he can drink one cup, he desires another and another, and though he drink never so much, cannot quench his thirst; certainly such a man though he have never so much lickour to drink, cannot be accounted happy; but he is rather happy, that free from this necessity of drinking, feeleth no thirst; nor is urged any way to drink; for the first is like a man that hath a burning fever, the other like one that is in perfect health.  
5. And this which S. john Chrysostome delivereth upon the point of reason, S. Augustin confirmeth by his own example, relating with grief this among the rest of his errors of his secular conversation; that while gaping after lucre & honour, he was walking one day through the city of Milan, with his head full of an Oration, which he was to pronounce in praise of the Emperor that then was, burning, 
S. August. 6. Conf. c. 6.  as he speaketh, with a fever of consuming thoughts, by chance he cast his eye upon a beggar, that was very pleasant and jocund; and at the sight of him, he fetched a deep sigh, and spoke much to his friends, that followed him, of his own folly, that haling the burden of his infelicity after him through the thorns of his disordered desires, and aggravating it by continually haling it, the utmost of his hopes and aim was, 
That which all desire, is contentment.  to come to that assuredness of contentment and joy, to which that beggar was already arrived, and to which perhaps he should never arrive. For that which that poor fellow had gotten by a few farthings which he had begged, to wit, to be joyful and contented in mind, that he aspired unto, by so many wretched windings. This therefore which S. Augustin saith of this poor man, may much more truly, and with more proportion, be said of a Religious state. For why doth any man desire the pleasures of the body, but to have content and joy in them? Religious people have this already, and are contented and joyful upon far better and more worthy grounds, than the pleasures of Sense can arrive unto; and on the other side not desiring them, they cannot be sorry they have them not.  

Nothing in earthly things worth the taking up.  6. Again; what is there in these earthly delights, why they should be so much desired or sought for? For to say nothing of the damages and dangers they bring a man's soul into, nor how unworthy a thing it is for Man, that is so noble a creature, to be still hanging after that which is common to beasts, I speak only now of that itching delight, which eggs a man on so much to these pleasures. What great matter of commodity can these transitory and perishable and earthly things bring a man, that they should be so much esteemed? What is it to have a board daintily served, and curiously setforth with excessive cost and magnificence? or to go to a play? What is there in a garden, or in a guilded coach, or in a long train of attendance, that, I do not say a Saint, but an ordinary man of judgement should be taken with it? Besides that, if it be joy and contentment which we seek in these things, as I said before, contentment is not so much in fullness, as in sobriety and temperance; 
Sobriety full of contentment.  specially, when with temperance so many other dainties concur as Religious poverty doth afford, and are so far from being found in the greatest delicacies of rich men, that all their pleasures are continually mingled with infinite corrasives; 
Prou. 15.17.  insomuch as the holy-ghost in the Proverbs gives us warning of it in these words: It is better to be called to a dish of herbs with charity, 
Prou. 17.1.  then to a fat calf with hatred. And in an other place: A dry morsel with joy, is better than a house full of beasts killed, with wrangling.  
12. Finally we must understand, that Religious people do not so much deprive themselves of the pleasures of the body, as change them for better. For when a soul meeteth with so many fountains of heavenly comforts, and hath so many vessels to fill with them, 
Religious people change for better comforts.  as I said before there were heads of these comforts in Religion, the comfort and sweetness which it feels, remains not wholly in the soul, but diffuseth itself further, and redounds to sense, and to our natural appetites, and also to our body, by reason of the nearness of one to the other, and the connexion which is betwixt them. Which is the cause why the Prophet said: My soul and my flesh have exulted in the living God. And the Wiseman in the Proverbs: 
Ps. 83 3. Pro. 17.22.  A joyful mind maketh flourishing years, a sad spirit drieth up the bones. For as we see the body pines away with the grief of the mind, so it hath part also of the joys of the mind, so far as it is capable of them.  
13. Which things considered, 
Religion the pleasanter place for the body.  who can make any question, whether the World or Religion be the pleasanter place even for the body? For though it be not, as I confess, invited every day in Religion to a banquet, to dancing, to merry meetings, to hunting-matches, and the like; it hath that notwithstanding which is far better, and more noble, derived from the superior part of the soul to the inferior. As when in a great household the Master of the house marrieth, the marriage concerns himself only, but the whole house and all the household-seruants, have part of the feast and music. In like manner therefore, Religious people, as I said, are not altogether barred of the pleasures of the body, but make an exchange of that which is base and momentary, and always full of remorse of conscience and excessive care, for that which is decent, honest, permanent, and so much the more delightful, the more suitable it is to both the parts of Man, and to Nature itself.   

An answer to them, that say, there be many temptations in Religion. CHAP. XVIII.  
OThers argue against a Religious course of life out of that place of Scripture: Son, coming to the service of God, stand in ●eare & trembling, and prepare thy soul to temptation. 
Eccl. 2 1.  Which warning of the holy-ghost doth so terrify them, that they think, if they come to Religion, they must live in a continual combat; and therefore conclude, that it is better to decline the battle, then by provoking their Adversary, thrust themselves voluntarily into danger.  
2. To which we answer; first, that holy Scripture (seeing they are pleased to use the authority thereof) when it giveth us warning of the temptations, which we shall find in the service of God, 
The Scripture doth 〈◊〉 us decline the ●●●uice of God for temptations  doth not advise us withal to decline the service of God for these temptations; but rather, that foreseeing the strife which will happen, we come armed beforehand both with courage and weapons, & particularly with those weapons which are there named, to wit, Fear and Trembling; for these will serve us as a whetstone to whet our industry, and diligence, and virtue. The soldiers of this world, though they know they shall often encounter their enemy, do not therefore forsake the wars; rather they go to the wars, that they may meet with their enemy; because, unless they fight, they cannot get the victory; and without victory, they shall have no reward, nor crown.  
3. Moreover in the wars among men there is this difference; for if a man will si● at home, 
Spiritual encounters cannot be avoided.  he may be quiet and safe; for no man ordinarily fighteth, unless he put himself into the field. But spiritual encounters no man can avoid, though he would never so fain. The Devils are enemies to all mankind; they lie in wait for all, they set upon all, not only upon Religious people, but much more upon Secular people, the more their lives are open to their assaults, and they less wary of them. So that Religion doth not raise an enemy against thee, that was not thy enemy before, but doth minister weapons, and courage, and counsel to withstand, and also to assault him that was always thine, and every body's enemy.  
4. The reason therefore, why Religious people seem to endure harder encounters than others, 
Why Religious people seem to have harder encounters.  is, because when we begin first to castup our Spiritual accounts, and to consider what we are, and from whence we come, and whether we are walking, and (in a word) what wounds and sores we have in our souls, than we begin to feel we have an enemy. Before, not because we did not feel our wounds, therefore we had none, but we were wounded, and did not reflect upon it; which of itself was a very dangerous wound, and an evident sign not only of blindness, but of death that had seized us. Though what wonder can it be, if the Devil do not oppose a man, when of his own accord he gives himself bound into his hands, and without contradiction yealds himself his slave, and doth whatsoever he will have him to do? But when he perceives a man go about to wrest himself out of his jaws, than he sets to him with greater fury, as a fugitive. 
S Greg 24. ●ar ●. 7.  Which S. Gregory expresseth excellently well in these words: Our Enemy, while we lead this life, laboureth the more to overthrow us, the more he sees us rebel against him; for he cares not for assaulting them, of whom he finds he is in quiet possession: But against us he riseth with the greater fury, the more violently he is thrust out of our hart, as out of the right of his proper mansion-house. But that no man may be daunted with these his wicked attempts, let us hear also what the same S. Gregory addeth a little after: But because our merciful God permitteth us to be proved by temptation, 
1. Cor. 10.13  and not reproved, according as it is written (God is faithful, who doth not suffer you to be tempted above that which you are able, but will make also with temptation issue, that you may be able to sustain) he doth speedily succour us with the help of his comforts, & abates the edge of temptation which riseth against us, & calmeth with inward peace the motions of our thoughts, that beat one against an other. And presently our soul receiveth great joy of the Celestial hope, because it hath abided the brunt; that with reason we may say of a man that is thus tempted and delivered: He shall see his face in exultation; And again: He freed his soul, that it might not go to destruction, but living might see light. Thus saith S. Gregory, excellently to the purpose.  
5. For if temptations were governed only by the malice of the Devil, 
Temptation 〈…〉 God.  that he might assault us, when, and how often, and how violently he list himself, we had great reason to be afraid of them; but seeing he cannot so much as move his ●ingar against us, unless God give him leave, we cannot doubt but his infinite Goodness, out of the love & provident care he hath over us▪ will so temper all assaults according to the proportion of our strength, that we shall not be tempted not only above it, but not so far as we are able to abide. 
S. Ephrem. s●le pa●●●tia.  For, as S. Ephrem speaking of this business saith: If men, knowing so little as they do, can discern notwithstanding, how great a burden a beast is able to carry, as for example, a mule, or a camel, and load them according to the measure of their forces; if a potter when he frames his vessel, knows how long he is to leave it in the furnace, that it be not burnt, if he leave it too long, or fall in pieces, if too little, and be for no use; How much more doth God, whose wisdom is infinite, know what temptations and trial every Soul doth want that desires to please him, and permits no greater to fall upon them, than is for their profit?  
6. Which being so, 
Temptations 〈◊〉 Cas●●●l 4. c. 6.  we have not only no cause to fear, but much reason to rejoice; because, as I said, there comes no harm to the servants of God by these temptations, but great benefit. For as Cassian writeth, by them we find by experience, that we always stand in need of the help of God, & consequently we persever in prayer, we call upon him, we give not ourselves to sloth and idleness, we keep our custom & practices of virtue, & of fight against our enemies, whereas oftimes (as he speaketh) whom adversity could not intercept, security & prosperity have overthrown. This is therefore the benefit which we reap by temptation, that as a horse that is strong and full of mettle, makes notwithstanding more speed if he be spurr●● up, then otherwise; So these girds, which the Devil gives Religious people, serve to put m●●tle into them, & make them run with more fervour to their prayers, to be more diligent in mortifying themselues, more eager in punishing their bodies, & more perfectly to apply themselves to the practice of all kind of virtue.  
7. Which benefit being so great, 
More for us, then against us. Ps. 26.3.  what reason have we to fear temptations, or to shun Religion in regard of them▪ because we are in danger of yielding to them? If we look upon ourselves only, & upon our enemies, no doubt but we have great cause to fear; but if we look withal upon the helps which we have from heaven, we have cause to say confidently with the Prophet: If armies stand against me, ●y hart will not fear. This was once showed to one of the ancient Fathers, whose name was Moses. For being sorely assaulted with temptation, 
Moses.  he went to the Abbot Isidore, and told him of the difficulties and combats which he endured. Isidore being a wise understanding man, first endeavoured to comfort him with reasons, and sayings out of the holy Scripture; and then leading him out of his Celle, bade him look towards the West, where he saw a multitude of Devils, fierce and terrible, marching as it were against him; then he bade him look into the East, & there he saw infinite numbers of blessed Angels, as bright as the Sun, in array to assist him. Know then, said the Abbot, that there be more for v● (as the Prophet Helizeus said) then against us: & that that is true, which S. john saith: He is greater who is in us, than he that is in the world.  

G●d in 〈…〉  8. And we may add, that they that are for us, are not only far more in number, but so far beyond the others in strength and power, that the least of them, is able alone to defeat and put to rout all the damned crew of Hell; because ours fight not with their own strength, 
P●. 33.8.  but with the power and strength of God. And moreover, 
Ps. 34.2.  God doth not only send his Angels to compass them round about, that fear him; but he himself descendeth to assist them, as King David telleth us, who had often experience of it: He taketh his weapons and target to fight for us; he shoots his arrows and desperseth our adversaries; he multiplieth lightning and confoundeth them. And yet he will not have us sit still, and be idle, and do nothing, while he overcomes our enemies for us; for that were not so glorious neither for him not for us; But he gives us, feeble and weak creatures as we are, power and courage to overcome, 
1. Reg 17.37. Ps. 141.1. Ps. 17.35.37.  not one, as David while he was a little one, but many Giants, which is more honourable both for him and us. He teacheth our hands to war, & our fingers to the combat. He puts our arms as a bow of brass, and makes them that they are never weary. He girds us with virtue, and dilateth our steps, that we may prosecute our enemies, and apprehend them, and not turn back, till we bruise them as dust before the face of the wind. How easy therefore is it to overcome, having so powerful a help? And what can be more to be desired, then to fight, seeing the victory on our side is so assured?  

Advantage of the place of combat.  9 But besides these strong succours, we have also the advantage of the ground whereon we fight. It is well known what difference there is in fight upon even ground, or from a higher or lower seat. Secular people that encounter the Devil in the world, fight with a great deal of disadvantage of place; for the world is a slippery kind of soil, where a man can have no footing, pestered moreover with often gusts of wind, & other encumbrances, which make the field very disaduantagious for them. Religious people fight as it were from a high Tower; for the State itself is like a Tower, both in regard of the eminency of it, & of the strong fortifications which are about it; so that they are both defended from the enemy's shot, & have better means to offend their enemies as being above them.  
10. Finally, Religious people have an other present remedy, & a general antidote against all temptations, 
Direction of Superiors, and laying open of temptations.  to wit, their Superiors & Governors, who not only by solid reason, & counsel, & prudence are always at hand to relieve them, but oftimes it happeneth, & I may say most commonly, that no sooner can a temptation be laid open before them, but in a moment it vanisheth away, and is defeated. A wonderful thing! & doubtless if there were Physicians for the body, that could cure a disease with only looking upon it, how would they be sought to, & esteemed? But that which cannot be done in the body, is daily seen in the diseases of the minds: 
Cass. Col. 4. c. 9  and all spiritual Writers are witness of it, and particularly Cassian (a man very well to be credited in this kind) saith, that it was a general practice of the ancient Fathers, to teach their subjects and disciples, never to conceal the busy thoughts of their hearts, but presently to lay them open to their Governors, so soon as they began to bud: and that whosoever did so, could never be circumvented with the crafty devices of the Enemy. And this which Cassian delivereth, 
●o 3.20.  daily experience, as I said, doth much more prove to be true, and oftimes it happeneth, that not only by declaring the temptation, but by the very resolution to declare it and lay it open, it is vanquished, because the Enemy is one that doth evil, hateth light, and cannot abide light; that is, the eye and countenance of a Superior.  
11. But not to stand too long upon a thing that is so evident, we will show briefly, that they that live in the world, are far more exposed to the assaults of the Enemy, than they that live in Religion. For all temptations ●ise of one of these three causes, to wit, either from ourselves, that is, out of our own weakness and corruption; 
Three heads of temptations to which Secular people are more subject.  or from outward things, which represented to our senses, solicit us to desire them; or finally by the suggestion of the Devil. All these three must needs be far more violent, and dangerous in Secular people, then in Religious. For if we speak of infirmity, who can make any question, who be the weaker? knowing that Secular people are generally unacquainted with matters of Spirit, full of evil habits, their passions strong in them, and they so far from endeavouring by care and diligence to bridle them, that rather giving away unto them, they strengthen them daily more and more. All the care on the other side, of Religious people, is to mortify themselves; Mortification is the first thing they begin with; Mortification is that which they ply continually all their life, & purchase by it all other virtues, which are the strength, and as it were the sinews of Spirit; and consequently nothing, for matter of Spirit, can be more strong than a good Religious man.  
12. Now what outward occasions or allurements can annoy a Religious life, where there is such continual watch & ward kept over us? our eyes, 
Custody of Senses in Religion.  & ears, and other senses, by means of our Rule & our Superiors, and the very walls themselves so guarded, that no hurtful thing can come near us. Secular people stand continually as it were in the midst of the flames, seeing, & hearing, & perpetually trafficking with those things which are evil in themselves, or provoke a man to eui●; for which reason the Prophet saith: 
Hier. 9.21.  Death comes in by the Windows, & there be so many windows as we have Senses. So that in this also there is no comparison.  
13. The third head is the Suggestion of the Devil. The Devils are like thieves; & whom do thieves most set upon? Upon them that they may rob as often & as easily as they will; or upon them that make head against them, & most commonly get from them without any loss, & oftener yet with gain & benefit to themselves? If a man have two enemies, & one of them be a coward, & neither have any thing to defend himself withal, 
The Diuel● like dogs in the shambles.  nor skill at his weapon, & consequently must needs go by the worst at every slight encounter; and the other be well armed, watchful, & skilful and oftimes have had the better of his enemy; who can make any doubt which of these two is likely to be oftener & more dangerously set upon? And thus it happeneth with those infernal fiends; whom Abbot Isidore (as Palladius writeth) fitly likeneth to dogs, that lie about the shambles; for as long as there is any thing for them, they haunt the place; but when the shambles are shut up, or if they be often beaten away with good dry blows, and that they cannot get what they come for, they appear there no more.  
14. These therefore are the grounds, upon which we may justly persuade ourselves, that a man is with less danger of his soul, and not so often tempted in Religion, as in the world; and that the temptations which do arise against us in Religion, are so easy to be overcome, and withal so beneficial unto us, that if we be wary of being over-confident of ourselves, we may say, they are rather to be desired and wished for.   

An answer to them, that say: It is against nature, to live under an other. CHAP. XIX.  
AMong all the difficulties which a Religious course hath more in show then in substance, some apprehend most, to be always at an other's command, always to depend upon another's will; because they persuade themselves, that liberty and freedom to do what a man will, is most agreeable to nature; and to depend upon an other, is, in a manner, to be a slave.  
2. This error aims at the very throat of Religion, and lays siege to the Citadel. Wherefore, that we may utterly root it out, we must first consider, 
What liberty is.  what Liberty is, and how natural it is to Man. For a man that shall think, that men are borne so free, that they may do whatsoever comes in their fancy, and what they list, and be bound to no Law nor Superior, is mightily deceived. For S. Augustin saith very well in one of his Epistles, speaking of the true joy and happiness of Man: 
S. Aug. 1 p●st. 131.  First consider, whether a body may yield to them, that will have that man happy, that lives according to his own wil God forbid we should believe this for truth; for, what if he will live wickedly? is he not uncontroulably the more miserable, the more easily his wicked will may be fulfilled? They also that without knowledge of the true God, have given themselves to Philosophy, have deservedly hissed out this opinion out of their Schools. For one of the eloquentest of them saith: Behold others, not Philosophers indeed, 
Cic in Hor▪  but nimble Disputants, say, that all are happy, that live according to their own wil But this is false; for to have a mind to that which is not fitting, is most miserable. And it is not so miserable, not to bring thy desire to pass, as to bring that to pass, which thou shouldst not. Thus saith S. Augustin, And Aristotle endeavouring to set down a perfect form of a Commonwealth, 
Arist. 5. pol. c. 9  doth give special advice to root out this common error, which reigns so much among men, who, because they make account that liberty consisteth in doing what they list, will have every body live as he pleaseth, and do what he thinks good; and saith: It is a most false supposition; because to live according to law, is not slavery, but safety.  
3. Plutarch, 
Plut l. de audi●.  an excellent Moralist, writeth to the same effect, that they that of children come to man's estate, if they be well advised, aught to make account, that they have not shaken off, but changed their Tutor. For in steed of a man, 
Man never without a Tutor.  whom they hired before with wages, or bought with their money, they have now a Divine governor of their life, to wit, Reason: and to obey it, is to obey God; and they that obey him, are the only freemen. For they only live as they list, who have learned to desire what they ought. Unreasonable thoughts and fancies are but a shadow of false liberty, and bring much repentance.  
4 Seing therefore Heathen Philosophers could discover thus much; we have much more reason to persuade ourselves the same, in regard that the properties of our nature, 
We are naturally under God.  which they could not so well dive into, do lead us unto it. For if Man by nature had no Superior, he might lawfully live as he list himself, and it were natural for him to do so; and doing so, he should live a pleasant life, and without it be miserable: But seeing we have God above us, who created us, and to whom consequently by the laws of Nature we are subject, our own natural inclination leads us to subjection to so Sovereign a Deity, to serve him, and to humble ourselves and all our actions under him. 
S. Aug 14. de Civit. c. 12.  S. Augustin teacheth this expressly; and to prove it, groundeth himself in the commandment, which God laid upon our first father Adam, to abstain from the forbidden fruit. In which precept: (saith S. Augustin) Obedience is commended unto us; which virtue in a reasonable creature, is as it were the Mother of Virtues, and preserver of them, seeing the nature of it is, to make it beneficial, to be subject to God, and pernicious to do a man's own will, and not the will of him that created him.  
5. But some body will say: 
Voluntarily to be subject to God, is true freedom.  What freedom hath Man, if he be tied always, and in all things, to do the will and commandment of God? This is our freedom; not to govern ourselves after our own fancy, but voluntarily to embrace the will of God, voluntarily to perform it. Stocks, and Stones, and brute Beasts, and all things are governed by God's direction, but because they have no knowledge of it, they cannot voluntarily apply themselves to follow it, which makes also, that they are neither capable of merit nor reward.  
6. This persuasion therefore and desire of being Masters of ourselves, and Lords at our own pleasure, 
It is much one, when God governs immediately o● by others.  being taken away, the matter is not so great, whether God govern is immediately by himself, or by Substitutes; specially seeing he always governs us so by others, as himself also assisteth and directeth both them and us, in his will and pleasure. So we see in Cities and Kingdoms, all the labour is to bring them to acknowledge the King their Sovereign. When they have once acknowledged him, it is alone to them, whether he deliver his commands in person, or by his Officer. And consequently it is evident, that as natural as it is for Man to be subject to God, and to Reason (which is as it were a ray of light proceeding from God) so natural is it for him to be subject to another man in place of God; and if it be natural, it cannot be painful or troublesome, but must necessarily be both easy and pleasant.  
7. And if we will yet more particularly reflect, 
Difference between servile and 〈…〉  what it is, that casts this mist before the eyes of some, we shall find that it is, because they confounded servile obedience or subjection, with this which is honourable and free, drawn into error by an outward kind of resemblance, which is betwixt them; and therefore attribute the difficulties and the odiousness of the one to the other. We must therefore inform ourselves of the main distance which is betwixt them, in regard both of pleasure and dignity. And we may take our information from Aristotle, 
Arist. 5. pol. c. 4.  who telleth us, that there be two kinds of government: one, of a domineering fashion, & the nature of it is, that a Lord of this humour aims chiefly & directly at his own benefit, & regards the benefit of the subject but accidentally, as the benefit of the subject redounds to him also; the other is Oeconomical, as a father governs his children, a man his wife; in which chose the Superior attends directly to the benefit of the subject, & to his own accidentally, because it falleth out so, that the selfsame is beneficial to himself; as the Master of a ship or Pilot, as such, doth first & chiefly take care for the safety of the passengers, 
Plato de repub.  and of his own accidentally, because he is also a passenger. These are Aristotle's own words. And Plato hath the like discourse of a Commonweal. As a shepherd, saith he, in as much as he is a shepherd, attendeth to the benefit of his flock, and not to his own; for his business is to see that that, which is in his custody, be rightly ordered: So he that hath the governing of men, aimeth at nothing but the good of them that are under him. By which we may easily see, under which of these kinds a Religious State is to be ranked. 
The power of the Church & of Religion is Oeconomical.   
8. And it is the more apparent, because not only the power, which is in force among Religious people, but all the power which Christ our Saviour hath left in his Church, tends to the benefit, not of him that hath it, but of the subject. Which our Saviour himself, who is Author of this power, gave us to understand in these words: 
Luc. 22.25.  The Kings of the Gentiles overrule them, and they that have power upon them, are called Beneficial; but you not so; but he that is greater among you, 
S. Bern. l. 2. de Con. c. 6.  let him become as the younger; and he that is the leader, as the waiter. Upon which words S. Bernard writeth thus to Pope Eugenius: This is the form given to the Apostles; domineering is forbidden, they are bidden to minister; and it is commended unto them by the example of the Lawmaker, who presently addeth: 
Id. l. 3. de Cons. c. 1.  I am in the midst of you, as he that ministereth. And the same S. Bernard, in an other place, likeneth this kind of authority to the power of a Steward or a Tutor. For the farm, saith he, is under the Steward, and the Yong-maister under his Tutor, and yet neither is the Steward Lord of the farm, nor the Tutor Master of his Master. And addeth: Be thou therefore over others so, as to provide, to advise, to take care, to preserve; be over others, to benefit others. Be over others as a faithful Servant, whom the Master hath appointed over his family; what to do? To give them food in season; that is, to dispense, not to be impetious. If therefore this which S. Bernard delivereth, or rather which our Saviour hath left ordered in his Church, be the model of all Ecclesiastical jurisdiction, how much more doth the same hold in the government of Religious houses, seeing both of them flow from the same head, and the reason, and ground, and use of them, is equal in both, and the manner of Religious profession requireth moreover with much greater reason, this kind of humble proceeding? He therefore that hath command over others in Religion, is not Master, but Servant; He attends upon all their necessities both of body and soul; this is all his employment day and night; in this he spends all his thoughts and endeavours. And again S. Bernard elsewhere saith, that the business of spiritual Governors is like to that of Physicians, 
Superiors are Physicians and M●thers.  wholly directed to the help of their Patients. And in another place he styles them Mothers, and exhorteth them to their duty in these words: Forbear stripes, lay open your ●earts: ●●l your breasts with milk, let them not swell with arrogancy.  
9 Seeing therefore all the power which is in Religious Orders, 
S. by'r s●r. 25. in Cant. & s●r. 23.  is intended for the benefit of the Subject, what follows, but that it must needs be as natural, and as delightful, 
This ●ind of subjection is natural and delightful.  to live under such a power, as it is natural and pleasing to every body to seek his own benefit? And what shall we need to stand gathering many voices for it, since a Heathen Philosopher, and one of the greatest wits among them, scanning the principles of Nature, averreth it. With this desire of knowledge of Tru●●, saith he, is 〈◊〉 a desire of Sovereignty; so that a mind well framed by Nature will not willingly obey but him that instructor's, or teacheth, or commandeth justly and legally, 
Ci●. lib. 1. Offic.  for the benefit of the party. In which sentence (whatsoever we may think of the first part of it) we cannot certainly but admire in the second, how a Heathen, as I said, & a man plunged in pride and ambition, could by the light of nature deliver, that, when we speak of instructing and teaching, or any other commodity redounding to ourselves, it is not only not repugnant to Nature for one man to obey an other, but most agreeable to Nature.  
10. All which is yet more evident in the light which we Christians have. 
It should have been in the state of Innocence.  For we see the like order settled among the blessed Angels; for some of them have pre-eminence over others, and their very nature was ordained so by God, and the same confirmed afterwards in the state of Grace, which he gave them. And Divines deliver, that the like had been with men, if they had continued in the state of Innocence. 
S. Th. p ●. 96. a. vl●.  Whereupon S. Thomas hath this discourse, that the state of Innocence being free from all misery & imperfection, could not have admitted of that kind of Superiority, by which one maketh use of an other man for his own interest, because it is a servile kind of thing, and subject to much misery; But as for the Superiority which is current among them that are freeborn, directed to the good and benefit of them that are subject, there can be no doubt, but it should have been in use in that state, because it is a comely and welbeseeming thing, & good for them that obey.  
11. Though why do we stand reasoning the matter so long, since we find by experience so many in the world, 
Worldlie servants serve with pleasure.  that for a small gain, or in hope of some little preferment, voluntarily sell away their liberty? How many serve for daily, or monthly, or yearly wages? Others live in a more honourable service, but yet serve, in hope of greater rewards, and wait so diligently upon some great man or other, and are so ready at every call, so obsequious, so watchful, that happy were it for Religious people, if they could be as quick, and cheerful, and lively in obeying, as they are. Shall we say, that they also do what they do, against nature and against the hair? If they did, they would not go so willingly and so diligently about it, nor be so ambitious of such places, nor part with so much money for them.  
12. If therefore it be natural and easy for them to serve after this manner, because every body doth naturally seek his own commodity; and that which is agreeable to nature, cannot but be easy, why should not the case be the same with Religious people? or rather better, by h●w much the reward, which secular servants hope for, is but small, and neither durable nor certain; Religious people serve upon hopes of an eternal reward and happiness everlasting.  

Religious people serve upon better conditions.  13. Besides that, they that serve in the World, serve upon far harder terms; first because they subject themselves to an other man, who in nature is but their equal, secondly, because men's fancies and affections are so uncertain and various, that oftimes we must labour many years before we can creep into their favour; and when with much difficulty and many years waiting we have got it, it is lost again in a moment, without any fault of ours, only upon the other's fancy. It is not so in the service of God. For to attend upon God, and to be his servant, is the greatest honour in the world, an honour for Kings to aim at; and serving God, we obey Reason, and rule ourselves by that Rule, which in itself is so straight and so constant withal, that we have nothing to stand in fear of, but lest we ourselves depart from it.  

Religious people 〈…〉 God.  14. For this is certain, and we must never let it go out of our thought, that Religious people serve not Man, as he is Man, but serve God, and are subject to men, only as they bear the place of God. Which is evident out of the form of their Vows, which tieth them, not to any man living, but to God. And as we on our part do vow ourselves to him, so he for his part never lays aside the care of governing us, nor doth ever put us over to an other so, as to forsake us; but governeth and ruleth us, and sendeth us, and calleth us back, when he pleaseth; according to the promise which he made to his Apostles: 
Lu●. 10.  He that heareth yo●, heareth me; so that to conclude, as it is not against the nature of Man to obey God, but rather engrafted and inbred in nature; so neither is it against nature to obey that man, whomsoever God hath appointed in his place, and whom we have no other reason to obey, but because we behold God to him; and consequently it cannot only not be hard to conform our wills in this manner to the Divine will, 
 but must needs be more easy and more pleasant then to follow our own wills. Which S. Bernard maketh a●cou●t to be so true, that he saith, it is a very slavery to follow our own will, and a very hard task. And to this purpose he applies that saying of our Saviour: 
 Come unto me, all you that are burdened with the hard setui 〈…〉 your own, or of an other's will, and You shall find rest to your soul, 〈…〉. For by how much the goodness of God is sweeter and 〈…〉 then any men, so much sweeter also is his yoke, than what 〈…〉 yoke beside.  
15. And hitherto we have held-on our discourse, as if in Religious Obedience there were a kind of servitude, 
 howsoever we plead that it is both amiable, honourable, and suitable to Nature. Now we will show, that there is no manner of si●ne of servitude in it, but time and perfect liberty. For what is liberty? To live as a man will himself. Who therefore be they that live as they will themselves? wicked people, or they 〈◊〉 be good and upright? Let us hear what S. Bernard saith of a covetous man: A 〈◊〉 of them that with a hart unsatiable gape after ●ayne and luc●e, what he thinks of them, that sell all & give it to the poor, to purchase by their earthly substance the Kingdom of heaven; Do they wisely or no? 〈◊〉 will say, they do wisely. Ask him again, why he doth not himself 〈…〉 commend: in an other? He answers; I cannot. Wherefore? because the 〈…〉 will not let me; because he is not free, because that which he 〈◊〉, is not 〈◊〉 own, nor himself is master of himself. If that which thou 〈◊〉, be ●uly th●●●, lay it out for thy commodity; exchange earthly for heavenly things. If thou canst not, confess, that thou are not master of thy money, but a slave to it; that thou art not true owner of it, but dost wait upon it to keep it. And this which S. Bernard saith of Avarice, we may say also of Luxury, of Gluttony, of Anger, that they that are entangled in these and other vices, are not freemen, but sl●ues: and most of all of Ambition, of which a Heathen author writeth thus: 
Cic. 〈…〉.  Take heed of desire of glory; for it taketh away a man's liberty, for which all noble sp●●s ought to strive.  
16. As therefore all t●ese are sl●●es, because they cannot do as they will, but are forced to do as Vice will have them, which is a more stern and more dishonourable Master than any man whatsoever, be he never so savage and barbarous: So contrariwise, he is truly free, that liveth according to Virtue. For the good which he doth, he doth it not unwillingly, but willingly and cheerfully: and receiveth and performeth the commands of his Superiors, or of his Rule, as if he did it naturally. For as when a man directs a traveller in his way, no man can say, he forceth him to go that way, because the traveller desireth it more than he that directs him: So whatsoever is suggested to a Religious man in this spiritual way and journey, either by word of mouth, or by writing, he taketh it as behooful for his own good and salvation, of which he is infinitely tender. 
1. Tim. 1.9. S. Ber. l. de prae ep. & ●sp ●. 9. Arist 4. ●●h. c. 8.  Which is the reason, why the Apostle said: The Law is not made for the just man; not (as S. Bernard explicateth it) that he must live without law, but because he is not under the law; or (as Aristotle writeth) because he is a law to himself, and carrieth himself without law, as if he were under it.  
17. S. Ambrose in one of his Epistles handling this subject at large, 
S. Ambros. l. 2. ●p. 1.  proveth it after this manner: He is free, that doth what he will himself: now a just man, though he obey the law, or man, doth always notwithstanding what he will himself, because he desireth the good which is commanded, and excecuteth it, not driven unto it by force of the outward command, but by his own desire and inclination. So that what truer liberty can there be, then that which Religious people enjoy? having moreover this advantage, that all their obligation and tie (which is the chief thing that seems to bar them of their liberty) comes by their own election and free choice? So that that, 
S. ●mbr●●●. ●p 83.  which S. Ambrose saith elsewhere, may be fitly said of them: Who will shun Christ, seeing they follow him, that are tied in bends? but voluntary bonds, which set a man free, and do not restrain him.  
18. And upon the same point S. Bernard grounds a discourse to his Monks, which I will here relate. 
S. Ber in ps. qui habi●. s●r. 9  For having laid load upon the hardness of this Religious captivity, and set it forth to the utmost, in regard that a man hastening, as I may say, to the loss of his own life in this world, and to the mortifying of his own will, puts his neck into the collar of so rigid a course of life, and casts himself into this hard prison of Penance, he relieveth them again with this solid comfort, that this servitude were indeed a most miserable servitude, if it were forced upon us, and not voluntarily undertaken. But voluntarily sacrificing ourselves to God, and no violence being offered to our wills, but by our will itself; whatsoever we do in this manner for God, though never so hard and toilsome, is rather to be reioyced-at and welcomed, then thought on with compassion.  

S. Aug. in Ps. 99  19 Finally S. Augustin saith pleasantly and rarely to this purpose. All servitude is full of bitterness; all that are bound in servile condition, serve and murmur at it. Fear not, that you shall serve such a Master. In his service there shall be no sighing, no murmuring, no indignation. It is great happiness to serve in this house, though it be in fetters. The service of our Lord is free: The service is free, where not necessity, but charity serveth. Thou art a slave and a freeman both together: a slave, because thou art created; a freeman, because God, who created thee, loves thee; serve not murmuring: for thy murmuring will not make that thou shalt not serve, but that thou shalt serve like a slave. Thou art a servant of our Lord, franchised of our Lord: do not seek to be so set at liberty, as to depart the house of him that gives thee thy freedom. Excellently well spoken by S. Augustin, and particularly where he observeth, 
Men must do the will of God whether they will or no.  that all men are so under the command of God, that though they repine and resist, yet serve they must, will they nile they, and shall be compelled to fulfil his will whether they will or no. For all things are governed by him, nothing escapes the mighty hand of his providence. Man therefore being by nature and of necessity a servant, how far better is it to serve voluntarily, & so, that by his very service he may be franchized to his great comfort for the present, and everlasting reward for the time to come, then by repining and stubbornly refusing to obey, to be forced to that, which God out of his infinite wisdom and providence hath ordained, and have for his reward nothing but sorrow in his world, and torments in the next?   

An answer to them, that think it better to keep their wealth to spend in good uses, then to give it all away at once. CHAP. XX.  
THE Devil useth an other fallacy to divert people from Religious courses, and it is so much the more dangerous▪ because it carrieth a colour of devotion. For he will needs persuade them that it is better and more profitable for salvation, to keep their wealth, seeing God hath given it them, then to cast it away all at once; that they may be always doing some good deed or other, specially for relief of the poor, whom our Saviour doth so particularly commend unto us, 
Matth. ●5. 3●.  that in the latter day of judgement it seems we shall receive our doom, according as we have dealt with our Neighbour, and relieved him in his necessities, feeding the hungry, clothing the naked, comforting the sick, and visiting them that are in restraint. Whereas Religion utterly disableth a man from doing any of these good deeds; both because it bringeth us to extremity of Poverty, and also taketh away our liberty; so that a Religious man, though he should haue● mind to do any thing in this kind, yet he cannot do it, unless he first have the consent of his Superior, and his particular Institute allow of it. And for proof out of natural reason, 
〈…〉 1. E●h. c. 10.  Aristotle affirmeth, that riches is one of the best means to make a man happy, and furnisheth him with plentiful occasion of virtue.  
2. These kind of arguments are the strength of this party, involuing doubtless many dangerous errors. 
Many inconueni●●●●● in administrating an estate.  For first the administration of a temporal estate is accompanied with so many offences of God, that the offences do far surpass all the good that can be done with it. Pride, and haughtiness, and freedom, and occasion and opportunity of sin, are always waiting upon it. And if there were nothing else, the very distraction of mind, and the withdrawing of our thoughts from spiritual things, and the nailing of them to that which is base and earthly, is a great misfortune. S. Gregory (excellent in delivering the Moral sense of Scripture) discoursing of the calamities of holy job, and how the Chaldaans' divided into three troops fell upon his Camels, saith, that the Chaldaeans signify the Devils, the Camels (suiting in some things with the beasts that were accounted clean, and in some things with the unclean) signify a wel-dispensing of temporal goods. For every body (saith he) that hath care of administering earthly things, 
S Greg 2. mor 26.  doth lie more open to the darts of the hidden Enemy. He striveth to do some things providently, and oftimes, while he is careful suttlely to foresee that which is to come, he overseeth at unawares the harms which are present. Ofttimes being slow in performing some things, he neglecteth others which he should carefully perform. Ofttimes being over careful in his dealings, he rather marreth the business by his unquiet proceeding. And most commonly so many intricate thoughts do entangle him, that scarce able to weald the business which he carefully turneth in his mind, and so bringing nothing to effect, he sweateth amain under the heavy burden of his hart. These are the incommodities which the administration of earthly wealth bringeth with it, be it never so uprightly handled, without wronging any man; for of this S. Gregory speaketh so that to buy the commodity of being liberal towards others, with so great loss to ourselves, seemeth great folly.  
3. And yet though there were no such incommodity in it, which can hardly be, 
To ●i●e all at once, 〈◊〉 a greater 〈◊〉.  considering how naturally these inferior things are coupled both with danger & damage; Yet, as I say, if there were no such thing, what comparison is there betwixt the works themselves? In the one, we bestow part of our earthly substance; a small matter God wot; In the other, we bestow ourselves, and give away the freedom of our own will, which is the greatest thing we have, and that which men make more account of, then of any thing else. And here also we may fitly apply the similitude, which we brought before out of S. Anselm, of the fruit & the tree. For he that remaineth with the possession of his earthly goods, giveth part of the fruit of them; a Religious man giveth the tree, and consequently all the fruit with it. So that whatsoever act or circumstance of virtue & dignity can be found in the first, is also in this, and much more than in the former, and so much indeed, that there can be nothing added unto it; for he that giveth all, poureth forth his liberality to the very bottom, & once for all; which must needs involve a far greater alacrity and cheerfulness in the very manner of giving, then when a man parts with it by fits, 
2. Cor. 9.7.  and by piecemeals: and these be the cheerful giver's w●●m God doth love, as the Apostle telleth us.  
4. But what do we stand demurring upon the matter? This was anciently the Heresy of Vigilantius, 
S Hier. con. Vigilan.  so long ago, and so learnedly confuted by S. Hierome, and then by the authority of the Universal Church condemned: of which S. Hierome speaketh thus: 
The Heresy of v●g●lant●us.  To that which thou sayst, that they do better, who use that which they have, and divide the fruits of their possessions by little and little among the poor, than they that selling their possessions give all away at once; I will not, but our Lord shall answer: 
Matth. 19.21.  If thou wilt be perfect, go, sell all that thou hast, and give to the po●re. He speaketh to him that will be perfect, to him that with the Apostles forsakes father, and boat, and nets. This which thou commendest, is the second & the third step, which we allow of also, so that we acknowledge withal, that the first is to be, referred before the second and the third. Thus saith S. Hierome.  

Testimonies of ancient Fathers.  5. And if we further require the testimonies of other ancient Fathers plainly averring, that it is far more beneficial to our own souls, and more acceptable in the sight of God to shake off all at once, then keeping our wealth in our own hands, 
S. Augustin de ●●no Con●●g ●. 8.  to bestow it by little and little in good uses; we shall meet first with S. Augustin speaking to this purpose: They that ministered necessaries of their substance to Christ and his Disciples, did well; but t●ey did better that forsook all their substance, to the end they might be the freer to follow our Saviour. And elsewhere he saith thus: It is good to bestow a man's wealth with discretion upon the poor; but it is better to give it all at once with intention to follow our Lord, and free from care to converse with Christ. 
Idem de 〈…〉.  He saith, they are free from care, that have rid themselves of their worldly substance; insinuating that Euangelical Poverty hath no care nor anguish hanging upon it, but is rather the true way to free a man from all care and trouble. 
S. Ambrose 〈…〉 36.  S. Ambrose in his Offices discoursing of liberality, & showing how naught a thing it is, to lavish a man's worldly substance, and that it is to be laid out providently, not carelessly cast away, excepteth this case: Unless it be perhaps to do as Helisae●s did, when he killed his oxen, and fed the poor with that which he had, to the end the care of household might not detain him, 
3. Reg. 19.21.  but forsaking all, he might betake himself to the Prophetical discipline.  

〈…〉 65. and 66.  6. Diadochus, a grave and ancient author, in a Treatise which he wrote in Greek, of Spiritual Perfection, among other things saith expressly thus: It is very convenient and very profitable, after a man comes to know what the service of God is, presently to sell all, and to dispense the money which he makes, according to the commandment of our Lord, & not under colour of obeying the Commandments of God, to shut his ear to so wholesome a Counsel. For hence will ensue, first, an excellent Freedom from all care and solicitude; secondly Poverty, safe and sure fr●m all attempts; thinking of higher things than injury and contention; because the ●ewel is now taken away, which said the fi●e of Avarice. Humility will then above all other virtues make much of us naked in her arms & bosom, as a mother makes much of her child in her lap, when out of childish simplicity it puts off the c●ates, and casts them away, rejoicing more in that nakedness, then in diversity of garments, being void of all malice. Thus saith Diadochus; and then putting this question in behalf of the adverse party (If we sell all at once, from whence shall the poor have relief, who were daily maintained out of our goods?) he answereth in this manner: Certainly God will ask account at our hands of almes-giving according to that which we have, and not according to that which we have not. If therefore for the fear of God I give that bountifully away in a short time, which I might have been longer in giving, what more will be laid to my charge, seeing I have nothing? 
God h●●h 〈◊〉 o● 〈…〉.  But some body will say: What then shall become of those poor people, that were wont to be maintained by little and little with our small estate? Let such an one learn, not to upbraid God by occasion of his own covetous mind. For God will never want ability to govern those whom he hath made, as from the beginning he hath governed them; neither did the poor want food or clothing, before this man or the other were moved to bestow their charity. You see what Diadochus saith, and discoverseth yet further of the benefit which comes thereof, in regard that riches make us proud, not only when we use them il, but though we use them well: because it is easy to take a kind of complacency in bestowing daily something in good uses, as if we did some great matter, and deserved something at the hands of God. But when we forsake all at once, & bestow nothing daily upon the poor, we may easily think we do little good, and stir ourselves to a wholesome sorrow and humility, and moreover be more eager to get by prayer, and patience, and humility, that which we cannot now purchase by almes-giving.  
7. Theonas in Cassian hath the like discourse; 
Cass 〈◊〉 21 ●. 35.  that though a man do offer the first fruits & tithes out of his estate, & be bountiful to the poor, yet it is hard for him not to fall often into the snares ●f Sinne. For while he delayeth or neglecteth the occasion, he must needs offend either in quantity or quality or daily distribution of his goods. And a ●i●tle after: It is impossible for a man to free himself to the s●l from the domination of s●aue, though he dispe●se his wealth with never so great magnanimity, unless by the grace of our Saviour, together with the thing itself he shake off the affection of possessing an●e thing. But in them that have not neglected the Counsel of our Lord, but bestowing before hand their whole estate upon the poor, 
The 〈…〉.  and taking up their Cross, have followed the plentifulness of the heavenly grace, sin can have no power. For though afteward● a man have charge of dispensing the wealth that is now consecrated to our Saviour Christ, and handle in a pious distribution the money which belongs to others, he 〈◊〉 not be troubled with unfaithful care of reserving for his maintenance, nor will his cheerfulness 〈…〉 be lost by 〈◊〉 delay; because that which once he offered wholly to God, 〈…〉 now as of a thing belonging to an other, not reflecting upon his own necessity, no● 〈…〉 will fall short, being assured that when he shall arrive to his 〈◊〉 nakedness, God will take much more care to feed him, than he doth of the birds of the air.  
8. S. Gregory also well acquainted with the crafty fetches of the Devil, 
S Greg. 12. 〈…〉.  reck●neth this among other hidden snares which he lays to entrap us. Another, saith he, 
〈…〉  is resolved not only not to hunt after earthly commodities, but to renounce all that he hath, to the end he may the more freely exercise himself in the precepts of the heavenly Teacher, the more disengaged he is from t●e things, which being possessed might encumber him, treading them under foot by forsaking them. The Enemy therefore lying in wait for this man, and speaking to his hart by secret suggestion, saith unto him: Whence riseth the boldness of this f●rash proceeding, as to dare to believe, that thou canst subsist with leaving all? Be●●●●e not very many that do not forsake their earthly patrimony, & yet purchase with it the everlasting goods of the supernal inheritance by 〈◊〉 of mercy? 〈…〉 flattering suggestion, and by the by, in the selfsame things, which he 〈…〉 him in mind to retain f●llowing his deceitful humour, he layeth before 〈…〉 the pestiferous delights of them, to draw the seduced hart to outward 〈…〉, and to turn it quite off from inward desires of Per●●●tion.  
9 Behold where the source is of this preposterous care of the poor, if we believe S. Gregory. Behold also what the Devil pretendeth by this his suggestion; to wit, under so fair a colour of Charity and pity towards the poor, to hold us pl●y with these earthly things, that while we stand upon so tickle a ground as the world is, he may the easier give us a fall. For as it is hard so to handle pitch, but that it will stick to our fingers; so it is hard to have the administration of worldly wealth and riches upon whatsoever occasion, but that our love, and affection, and desire will in some measure cleave unto them, and as it were defile our soul by touching them.  
10 That which S. Hierome therefore writeth in his Epistle to julian, standeth with great reason. This julian was both wealthy and bountifully liberal towards the poor, & yet S. Hierome exhorts him rather to forsake all, and showeth plainly that it is the much more perfect course and more beneficial for salvation. These are his words, 
S Hierome Epist. 34.  I cann●t say but thou dost well, in that thou dost, as it is reported of thee, minister to the use of Saints, maintain Monks, make great offerings in the Churches. But these are but the first essays of thy warfare. Thou contemnest go●d; many Philosophers also have contemned it; and one of them (to pass the test in silence) cast the price of his many possessions into the sea, saying: Away into the deep, you evil thoughts; I will drown you, that I may not be drowned by you. This Philosopher, ambitious of glory, and a base slave to popular rumours, cast away all his burden at once; 
Religious people have the higher place.  and canst thou think that thou hast attained the height of virtue offering part of thine? God will have thyself, a living host, pleasing God; thyself, I say, and not that which is thine. If thou give thyself to God, and perfect in Apostolical virtue begin to follow our Saviour, than thou wilt understand where thou wert, and how in the Army of Christ thou hast hitherto held the lowest place. I will not have thee offer that only to God, which a thief may take from thee, which thy enemy may invade, which banishment may deprive thee off, which may come and go, and which like waves of the sea is possessed by every master that is next at hand, and which (in a word) whether thou wilt or no, 
Hierome Ep●st. 10.  at thy death thou must forsake. Offer that which no enemy can take from thee, no tyrant bereave thee off; that, which will follow thee to thy grave, yea to the Kingdom of Heaven, and to the delights of Paradise. Thou buildest Monasteries, and a great number of Saints are maintained by thee; but thou shalt do better, thyself to live a Saint among the Saints. Thus writeth S. Hierome to julian. 
S Hierome Epist. ●1.   
11. And the like he writeth to Pammachius; applying fitly to his purpose that which we read of the low stature of Zacchaus: 
〈…〉  My advice is that thou offer not only thy money but thyself to Christ; 
〈…〉  skin for skin, and all that a man possesseth he may give for his soul. Our ancient Enemy knoweth, that the combat of Continency is greater than that of money; that which sticketh on the outside, is easily ●ast ●●f, a civil war is more dangerous. We may easily unglue that which is but 〈◊〉 together, unsow that w●ich is but sowed; Zacchaus was rich, the Apostles 〈…〉 
〈…〉  red four times the value of that which he had taken, and divided among the poor the one half of his substance that remained; our Saviour admit 〈…〉 entertaynement; and yet because he was low and could not reach the 〈◊〉 of the Apostles, he was not reckoned among the Twelve. The Apostles, 〈◊〉 〈…〉 their wealth, left nothing, if their will, they forsook all the world at once. If we offer our wealth and our soul together, he will willingly accept of it.  
12. Let us rehearse an other testimony out of the same S. Hierome, exhorting his friend jacivius to an absolute renunciation of all things in these words: It is the part of beginners, and not ●f perfect people, 
〈◊〉. Ep. 28.  to cast away their money. Crates the Thebean did it, and so did 〈◊〉, To offer one's self to God, is proper to Christians and to the Apostles. The wants of many have been supplied by thy abundance, to the end that their riches may rebound again into the hands of them that want them. 
Luc 16.9.  Thou hast made to thyself friends of the Mammon of iniquity, that they may receive thee into the eternal tabernacles A thing worthy commendation, 
Prou. 13.8.  & to be paralleled with he virtues of the Apostolical times! But our L●rd seeketh rather the souls of the Faithful, than their riches. We read, that a man's own riches are the redemption of his soul. By a man's own riches we may understand such, as are not gotten by pillage, or by the wrong of an other man; but yet in a better sense, our own riches are the hidden treasure, which neither the night-theef can undermine, nor the open robber take from us by violence.  
13. Seeing therefore we have the verdict of S. Hierome in so many places, 
Riches a help for the Active life, and a hindrance for the Contemplative.  so clearly delivering his mind on our side, and so many other ancient Fathers beside of the same opinion, the single authority of Aristotle cannot in reason stumble any man, though he were against us. But indeed he is not. For in that which was objected out of the first of his Morals, he speaketh consequently to that which there he handled; for he discourseth there of the happiness belonging to the Active life, towards which Riches are undoubtedly a fit means and instrument; for had it not riches, it should not have wherewithal to relieve others, and supply their necessities; whereas great part of the felicity of that life is placed in that kind of action. 
Arist. 10 ●th c. 8.  But towards Contemplation, wherein according to Aristotle's judgement also, is the far truer felicity, riches conduce nothing at all, but rather hinder it; for they disturb the quiet of a man's mind, which is one of the necessariest things of all for Contemplation: Insomuch that Aristotle himself in his tenth book of Morals, where he treateth of the happiness which is in Contemplation, saith, that Action hath need of many things, but Speculation hath not need of any thing, and that multiplicity of things is rather a hindrance unto it. It is therefore confessedly much more beneficial, and a much more noble act, to forsake all that a man hath at once, and to consecrate his life to God in Euangelical Povertie, then to remain with some thing, though it be with intention to spend it upon the poor. Which we may finally strengthen with a notable sentence of that great S. Hilarion, 
A memorable saying of S. Hilarion.  of whom S. Hierome relateth, that having delivered a marvellous rich man called Orion from a legion of Devils, not long after, the same man returned to the Monastery with very rich presents, and urged S. Hilarion very earnestly and with tears, to accept of them, 
S. Hierome in vitae H●lar,  if not for himself, yet at least to bestow upon the poor; but the advised old man answered him in these words: The name of the poor hath been an occasion of avarice to many; but mercy hath no tricks with it. No man doth spend better, than he that reserveth nothing for himself.   

An answer to them that choose to remain in the world, to do good upon their Neighbour. CHAP. XXI.  
OThers are withdrawn from Religious courses by a persuasion which they have, that they may benefit their Neighbour more in spirit, remaining in the world. An error much like to the former, which we have confuted, but that the former taketh occasion of our earthly substance, this latter of a good which is merely spiritual; and consequently, as it hath the fairer pretext, it is the more apt to deceive. For thus they discourse, and argue as it were, against a Religious State: that in Religion we in a manner bury the Talon, which God hath given us, and the zeal and good will of advancing others in virtue; because they that live under Obedience, are not so free to make their excursions hither and thither, and sometimes, when they have begun a good work, they are called away from it, & set about something else, or sent to another place. On the other side, they that remain at their own freedom, may at all times, and at all hours, assist all kind of people, and have no body to hinder them, no body to forbid them, no body to interrupt them; so that whereas both of them may be compared to hounds, that are ●a●er upon the sight or sent of the game, the Religious are as it were in leash, and at the command of others; Secular people run at large, & instantly make after the game without any stop or stay. Let us therefore consider, how little force these arguments have, to weaken so great a Counsel of Perfection.  
2. And first we must understand, that Charity, as great a virtue as it is, must be ordered, 
Charity 〈◊〉 ordered is not Charity.  insomuch that if it be not duly ordered, it is not Charity, but some other affection that putteth-on the mask of Charity. Order consisteth chiefly in this, that in matter of Spirit, and in things which concern the grace of God, and our soul's salvation, every one be first careful of himself, & prefer his own spiritual benefit and profit; before the good of whomsoever of our Neighbours; and so God commandeth us to do. Which all Divines with one consent deliver as a certain truth; and S. Thomas in particular proveth it by this solid & substantial argument. B●cause Charity, saith he, is grounded in the communication of goods that are spiritual; but after God, 
S Th●m 1.2. q 3 ● are 3.  who is the foundation of all, every one is nearest to himself, and must make account to be first in the participation of this good; for we love our Neighbours as our companions in that participation; 
Charity first 〈◊〉 us to our own perfection.  and consequently as Unity is to be preferred before Union, so that a man enjoyeth such a go●d▪ is a nearer and dearer ground of love, then that an other is his companion in the enjoining of it. And upon the same ground it followeth also truly & necessarily, that the habit of Charity cannot incline a man, I do not say to commit the least sin, but not so much as to abide the least loss or impairing of Charity, for an other man whosoever he be, no not though it were to save the whole world, no more than fire can issue out of ice; which also almost all Divines agree in.  
3. If therefore we allow of this, & it cannot on the other side be denied or any way doubted of, but that a Religious course of life is without comparison the most absolute course of our own perfection, and far more apt to furnish our own souls with virtue, than any Secular state whatsoever, it must necessarily follow, that though some particular state in the world might be more beneficial to our Neighbour, yet the benefit of our own souls is to be preferred before the benefit, which might be derived to others. Our Saviour delivereth it in these express words: What doth 〈◊〉 it avail a man, if he gain the whole world, and suffer detriment of his own soul? And because we should not think, 
Matth. 16.26.  that his words are to be understood only of temporal gain, S. Bernard doth directly apply them to this spiritual benefit of our Neighbour which we speak of, 
S. Bern. 1. de Cons. c. 5.  and in his book of Consideration writeth thus: If thou wilt be wholly entry body's, after the example of him, that was made all to all, I commend thy f●ee na●u●e; but upon condition it be full. And how shall it be full, if thou shutout thyself▪ for thou art also a man. Therefore that thy courtesy may be fall & mine, let the bosom chose me which receiveth all, embrace thyself within itself. Otherwise what availeth it thee, according to the word of our Lord, if thou gain all, & lose thyself alo●●? & he repeateth the like saying in his second Book, & among other things, concludeth pleasantly with these words: In the purchase of salvation, no man is nearer of kin unto thee, than the only son of thy mother.  
4. Now the ground of the contrary party draweth these two inconveniences with it; 
Id●m lib 2. c. 3.  First that while they live in the world, upon what cause soever they remain in it, they lie open to all occasions and dangers of sin, as much almost as any Secular people; 
Inconveniences of remaining in the world.  for sailing the selfsame seas, they must needs be tossed with the selfsame waves of these present allurements & baits of honour, & riches, and beauty beating continually upon their eyes & thoughts, that it is very hard, and a rare thing, always to resist, & so to resist, as always to go away with the victory. This is the first inconvenience, which they run themselves upon. The other is, that though we should grant them the victory in all these assaults, yet they cannot but suffer l●sse & detriment in matter of virtue & perfection, because they deprive themselves of voluntary Poverty, & Obedience, & other such unspeakable treasures, which are ordinary in Religion, &, as I may say, common to every ordinary body. And what folly is it, to wait upon others gains with so much loss of our own? Wherefore we ought rather to hearken to the counsel of the holy-ghost, & have it always before our eyes, 
Eccl. 29.27.  advising us in this manner: Recover thy neighbour according to thy virtue, and take heed to thyself, that thou fall not in; that is, thou fail not; for he that saleth, both hurteth himself, & cannot help them to rise, that are fallen.  
5. We shall do well also, to call to mind the Parable of the Virgins, whom our Saviour so much commendeth in the Gospel for their wisdom, in that when the other Virgins begged oil of them, 
Matt. 25.9.  they answered: Lest perhaps it suffice not for us & you, 〈◊〉 rather to them that sell, & buy for yourselves. Which saying S. Bernard upon the Canticles applieth to this which we have in hand, & among many other reflections which he makes upon it, he falleth also upon that, which we spoke of before, that it is not true Charity for a man to desire to benefit others with his own loss; because charity (as he speaketh) w●● abound in itself, that it may have abundance for others. It reserveth to itself as much as it wants, 
S. Bern. In Cant. ●. 18.  that no man may want. Otherwise, if it be not full, it is not perfect. And again: I make account, that in matter of Salvation no degree of compassion is to be preferred before that degree, 
Eccl. 30.  which the Wiseman setteth down, saying: Have mercy of thy own soul, pleasing God.  
6. And thus much upon supposition, that though a Secular life could be more apt to do good upon others, yet Religion were to be preferred, because in Religion we may reap more benefit to ourselves. 
Religion incompararbly more proper for the helping of others.  What if we add now that religion is far more able, and sufficient, and proper to do good upon others? But it is so certain and evident, that we shall not need to stand long upon proof of it besides that, in the second Book of this Treatise we have plainly con vinced it, discoursing of the manifold helps, which a Religious sta●e afford 〈…〉 good of ●ur Neighbour; the sum whereof i● this: that God only 〈◊〉 because of the conversion of Souls, and of their progress and advancement in virtue. For so we fir● it written: 
Ps. 83 12.  Grace and glory our Lord will give. And our Lord himself saith: No man can come to me, 
job. 6.44.  unless the Father, who sent me, draw him. What then do men in the conversion of other men? 
Conjunction with God the author of conversation of souls.  They are instruments which God useth, as a writer useth his pen, a sawyer his saw. Wherefore as any kind of instrument, moving of itself can do nothing, but if it be moved by the craftsmaster, it can do all things: So in works Divine and supernatural, look how far a man is joined with God, and moved by him, so far he goeth, and no further. Now let us see, who is more united with God, a Secular, or a Religious man? But there can be no question in it: for besides the conjunction which Charity maketh betwixt them (the force of which virtue is far greater in Religion, & far more means to purchase it) there be other virtues which mainly further this union, and chiefly those two, which are so proper and natural to a Religious course, to wit, Humility & Obedience, the one freing us from all worldly pride, the other delivering us over to the Divine Majesty, and putting him in absolute possession of us, to rule us and weald us as he pleaseth, besides the perpetual and irrevocable bond of our Vows, binding us so inseparably to God, that there cannot be a stronger tie, nor a more inviolable conjunction imagined upon earth. What wonder therefore, if such instruments managed by the hand of so great and so skilful an Artificer, and so fit and pliable to his hand, work such rare and admirable effects?  

O●her helps.  7. To this inward conjunction with God, we may add the outward helps, which in Religion are many, as the joining of so many hands together, which is a great means to bring business to an end; for that which a man hath not in himself, he hath it in his Brother. Secondly the authority, which the despising of earthly things gives Religious people above others; a contempt, I say, of the world, which lies not hidden in every one's breast, but is apparent to be seen in the state itself, and the whole course of a man's life. All which and such like other furtherances, they that labour for the benefit of others in a Secular life, must needs want. And to pass over other things; of what importance must it needs be, that Religious men are in this business of the help of Souls, as well as in other things, wholly directed guided, and illuminated by their Superiors? For first the advice & counsel of men that are wise & expert in so weighty a business, cannot but be very useful; besides that, it is God that governeth them by their Superiors, which is all in all; for when God is the author & beginner of that which we undertake, it cannot but prosper, whatsoever it be. And to answer that which was objected, by example of a hound, doth not the game go much better forward, when the dogs are guided by a huntsman, that knows how to rule them, when to put them on, when to take them off, and when to stay them from ranging about? Yea without it, the dogs of themselves are not fit to hunt.  

Experience 〈…〉 Religious people do more good.  8. But what do we stand disputing this question concerning the help of Souls? Let us open our eyes and take a view of the Church of God, as now it is, and as it hath been for many Ages. Who be they, that now adays following the example of our Saviour, go about the Cities & towns & villages, instructing the people, and drawing men out of sin, and putting them upon good courses in the service of God, but Religious men? whom do we almost see in a pulpit preaching but such as are of one Order or other? Finally who are the workmen in this vineyard of our Saviour, but they? and true workmen indeed, that abide the weight and the heat of the day, & do all, that they do, merely for the glory of God, & the help of Souls, not for any earthly commodity, or temporal benefit redounding to themselves. For though there be of the Secular State some, that labour in this harvest, they are so few of them, that no man can attribute the general fruit, which is wrought and maintained in the Church, rather to the Seculars, then to the Regulars.  
9 Some body perhaps will grant all this to be true, speaking of the general fruit which is wrought in the Church; 
A deceit about helping our Country and kindred.  but for his part he speaketh not of the whole Church, but is in pain only for his own country, and patents, and kinsfolk; and thinketh that if he remain with them, he shall be better able to instruct them, and help them, then if he go into Religion. A ridiculous pretence; for that which we have been saying all this while of the prerogative of a Religious State above a Secular in matter of doing good to others, is much more of force in this case, because it commonly falleth out, that a man shall do rather less good among his kindred, then more; which indeed might seem a Paradox, 
Marc. 6.4.  but that we find it by experience continually to be so; & Truth itself hath so long before given us warning of it in these words: A Prophet is not without honour but in his country, and in his house, and in his kindred. And the example of our Saviour testifieth as much, as well as his words. For wheresoever he chanced to be, though it were among the Samaritans, which was a debauched kind of people, and at variance in many things with the jews, all admired his wisdom, and followed him most greedily to hear him speak; and yet in his own Country he was held in contempt and derision; insomuch that it is written of him; He could not there else any virtue; and: He wondered by reason of their incredulity. What then may we weak and infirm creatures hope to do, seeing the infinite Sanctity and Majesty could do no good upon flesh and blood?  
10. S. Bernard therefore with great reason doth reckon this subtle temptation among the little foxes, 
Cant. 2.15.  which in the Canticles are said to demolish the vineyard; a temptation which doth not only hinder people from entering into Religion, but oftimes draweth some out of Religion to the world again. 
S. Ber in Cant. 5 ●4.  I saw a man (saith S. Bernard) that was running well; and behold a thought▪ How great a good is this, which I enjoy alone? If I were in my country, I might give part of it to my brethren, and kindred, and acquaintance, and friends. They love me, and will easily hearken to my persuasions. To what end is this loss? I go thither, and save many of them, and myself with them. And I shall not need to fear the change of place; for so I do well, what matter is it, where; but only, that certainly it is better to remain there, where I may remain with more profit. Why should I be long? He goeth, and perisheth, wretch that he is, not so much a banished man into his country, as a dog returning to his vomit. Behold the unhappy man hath lost himself, and gained none of his. Behold one little fox, to wit, this vain deceitful hope, which he had of gaining his kindred.  
11. These so express and significant words of S. Bernard, together with the rest which hath been said, make it evident, that whosoever is moved indeed with true zeal of Souls (for there be diverse who have not this zeal, but remain in the world, because they are taken with the world, and use reasons which favour of zeal as a colour to shadow their covetous mind) but if there be any such that desireth sincerely to advance the service of God, and resolveth to dedicate himself unto the setting of it up, he must needs acknowledge, that there is no doubt to be made, but that he may more perfectly, & more assuredly, and with more plentiful success compass his ends in Religion, then remaining in the world, specially if he confine not himself to one country or Family (which were a sign of somewhat a straight hart, and but little courage) but offer himself to be always in a readiness for all places in general, 
Ez●●k. 1 11.  and all sorts of people, and as the beasts, which the Prophet speaks of, wheresoever the motion of the spirit is, thither presently he got. And this he may far easier and with less trouble and danger perform in Religion, then in the world, because, as I said before, there be in Religion so many helps to perfection and sanctity; and chose in the world, so many hindrances & rubs by the way, and allurements to sin. For it falleth out with us in this business, as with them that will save a man from drowning; for whosoever will do so, must first put himself in safety; otherwise he endangers himself, and consequently disables himself from helping an other out of danger, and in like manner, he that will go about to help is neighbour out of t●e danger, in which he is in the world, must necessarily himself wade out of the world, and stand upon firm ground above all worldly things.   

An answer to them that say: It is enough to forsake the world in affection, though they forsake it not in effect. CHAP. XXII.  
Here we are to deal with an other objection, not unlike the fallacy of which we have been speaking; for some will not stick to say, it is in vain to trouble oneself so much, as to make away from himself all the right and possession of whatsoever he hath in the world: it is enough to forsake the love & affection unto it. And this they undertake to prove, because the substance of perfection is Charity; 
 He that hath greater charity, is more perfect, whether he live a Secular or a Religious life. And to strengthen their cause, they bring examples of holy Scripture, and tell us of Abraham, and Isaac, and jacob, who living in the State of Matrimony, and abounding in all worldly wealth and plenty, were holy in an eminent degree; insomuch that God conversed familiarly and friendly with them.  
2. But we must take heed, that this be not also the language of such a flatter themselves, and pretend reasons, of purpose, because they are loath to break with the world, and worldly bonds, with which they love to be tied. And we shall be fain to spend the more time and care in confuting it, because many, that account themselves of the learnede● and wiser sort, are subject to this error.  

 3. Though it cannot therefore be denied, but that Perfection consisteth in Chari●ti, as they allege, and that Religion is not perfection, but a way and means to perfection; yet it is such a means, as they who embrace it, may easily, & speedily, & without sail attain to perfect on, & they that embrace it not either never come to perfection, or not without long labour and difficulty. For as at the passage of a 〈◊〉, every body seeks for the bridge, or for a boat to pass without danger; & of a 〈◊〉 be to go a journey by land, he chooseth rather to go on horseback, then on foot, because he shall sooner come to his journey's end, and more commodiously: So in the long and hard journey to the top of Virtue and Charity, of which they speak, what account in reason ought every body to make of such a help, as enableth and strengtheneth us not only to pass our journey, but to run with ease & expedition, and is indeed rather a Coach to carry us sweetly a long in it? And what kind of Coach is it? We have spoken sufficiently of this point throughout the whole First Book of this Treatise, showing that Religion affordeth two special helps to salvation: freing us, by abandoning the world, from all impediments thereunto, which in the world are certainly innumerable; and furnishing us with so many excellent commodities towards a spiritual life, as there we have discoursed of.  
4. Which was the reason, 
Ancient 〈…〉  why generally all holy men, that understood very well, that the substance of Perfection consisted in Charity, have notwithstanding so earnestly exhorted us to abandon the world, as if without it we could not be perfect. Among whom Cassian speaketh thus: It is infallible, that whosoever leans to his wont possessions & goods, doth not take upon him entire humility of hart, nor full mortification of his corrupted wil But S. Basi more copiously; for supposing first as a ground, 
Cap. C. ●● c. 24.  that the abnegation which our Saviour commanded, consisteth in casting away all love of ourselves, and all solicitude either for life or death, he setteth down, what is necessarily to be done to attain to this perfection. And these are his words: This renunciation beginneth with parting from external things, from our possessions, from vain glory, from the customs of our former life, 
S. ●●sil. reg sus. c. 8.  from affection to things unprofitable; as the holy Disciples of our Lord have put us in mind to do by their example, to wit, james and john, by forsaking their father Zebedee, and their boat, of which their whole life and maintenance depended. And a little after: Though what shall I need to strengthen that, which I say, with reasons of mine own invention, or examples of holy men, seeing we may allege the very words of our Saviour, and with them animate a Soul that is Religious, and hath the scare of God? 
Iu●. 14 33.  For he plainly and without all contradiction testifieth, and saith: So therefore, whosoever of you renounceth not all that he possesseth, cannot be my Disciple. And in an other place, 
Mat. 19.11.  having upon this condition (If thou will be perfect) said: Go, sell what thou hast, he presently addeth: Come, follow me. And to the like purpose, 
S Mat. 13.45.  he brought the Parable of the Merchant, that having found one precious Margarite, sold all that he had, and bought it. For it is evident, that the precious Margarit signifieth the Kingdom of Heaven; which Kingdom, our Lord saith, we cannot attain unto, unless we contemn all that we have at once, to the end to purchase it, wealth, glory, kindred, and whatsoever most men in the world do ambitiously gape after. Thus speaketh S. Basil; and what could be said of more weight and strength to our purpose? 
S. Ma●. ●●.   
5. The like we read in one of the Homilies of S. Macarius. It cannot be, saith he, that a man should purchase the possession of his own soul, or the charity of the heavenly Spirit, unless estranged from all things belon●●● to the world, he apply himself to search-out the charity of our Saviour, and fever his mind from all gross cares, and earthly distractions, that he may take his whole aim at one mark; that forsaking all, and cutting-of all material and earthly impediments, and separated from carnal love and affection to parents or kindred, he suffer his mind to attend to nothing else, nor to be distracted by other means, but be wholly occupied in the care and search of Spiritual things. This is that which S. Macarius saith of this matter both truly and advisedly, to the point we treat of.  
6. For though, if we will go upon subtleties and speak metaphysically (as they say in Schools) it cannot be denied, but a man may be a Saint in the midst of worldly wealth, 
Practice showeth the contrary.  and practise Humility in the height of honour, and perserve Chastity in the midst of delicacies; yet if we cast our eyes, not upon that which might be wished or projected, but upon that which for the most part falleth-out among men, and which we daily see in the ordinary course of their life and conversation, no man can be so blind, as not to see what is best, most safe, most conducing to salvation. But to go more solidly to work, we must sever that which is certain, from that which is uncertain and disputable.  

All things m●st be for forsaken in affection.  7. It is certain, that whosoever setteth his love and affection upon earthly goods, is not fit for the Kingdom of heaven; and therefore they are to be forsaken, at least in affection. This all must do at all times, and entirely, without exception. For so the Prophet telleth us: If riches abound, do not set your hart to them. And again: 
Ps. 61.11. Ps. ●5. 6. Mat 19 27.  All men of riches have slept their sleep, and found nothing in their hands. And our Saviour giveth us to understand as much in that rigid sentence: It is easier for a camel to pass through a needle's eyes, then for a rich man to enter into the kingdom of heaven. T●is therefore is most certain. That which makes all the doubt, is, that some take upon them to be confident, that they can remain with their earthly goods, and yet be poor in spirit, and not set their hart upon them, or repose any trust in them, or lose the least part of their love towards God in respect of them. Others again, understanding how full of difficulty all this is, and how many hindrances of salvation there be in the world, how many allurements to vice and sin, choose rather quite to shake off the world, then to put their eternal salvation in such hazard, for so short a pleasure in these temporal things. Which of these, have more solid reason for their side?  

It is wisdom to be on the surer side.  8. I make no question, but as in all other things it is the part of a wise man to lean to the surer side; and if a body must offend in one, to choose rather, to be too wary, then to be thought unadvised; and the weightier the business is, the more reason we have to do so: so much more in this, which of all other things concerns us most. For it is wonderful difficult, and indeed beyond the strength of man to have many things in possession, and to suspend our affection from them. S. Basil in the place before alleged taketh it for a certainty, 
To possess things with 〈…〉, is in a manner impossible.  that whosoever reserveth any earthly thing to himself, his mind must necessarily (for so are his words) remain, as it were, buried in that slow of filth, and the passage to heavenly contemplation be shut against him, because he is so drowned in it, that he cannot think of the Supernal goods, which God hath promised us; for we cannot attain to those goods, 
S Basil reg su●● 8.  unless a vehement and undistracted desire of them do spur us on and inflame us, and indeed so great a desire, that it make all things easy, to the end we may gain them. This was S. Basil's opinion: and if any man think him too strict and severe, let him consider well, whether he frame to himself a right conceit of Perfection, according to the nature thereof and not rather perhaps conceive of it according to his own or others remissness, and want of spirit.  
9 S. john Chrysostome makes account, that it is a much more easy way to cure our corrupted affections, 
To leave all is an easier cure. S. Io. Chrys hom. 43. in Matt. Sen. Ep. 110 Cass. l. 5. de 8. princip. 〈◊〉. c. 7.  to have nothing, then to have something, though it be but moderate. Nothing, saith he, doth so quench the thirst of cupidity, as to cease from desire of gain, like as abstinence and evacuation purge bitter choler. It is easier for a man's body to fly in the air, then to quiet our desire, if we still add more. And certainly we shall find it so, as the Philosopher saith, that some things, are more easily quite cut off, then in part tempered. And Cassian speaking by experience, saith: We have seen men easier abstain altogether from gross meats, then use moderately of those which are granted for necessity; and those that deny themselves all for the love of continency, than those that under pretence of infirmity, taking some, keep themselves within the bounds of sufficiency. and this which Cassian saith of Temperance, in respect of Gluttony, is true in all other objects; which being present, are apt to delight either our eyes or our mind. It is easier wholly to abstain from them, then to use some with moderation. For as if a man should let himself down from a high tower, it is not so easy, as he may imagine, to stay himself in the midway at his pleasure: so it is not in man's power to withhold and prevent the violence of delight, or to assign in what measure it shall press upon us; rather our weakness is apt to give way unto it, and to think it an ease to do so; and by that means we are drawn further and further by little and little, and, which is our own greater misfortune, at unawares and unsensibly. Which S. Leo expresseth in these words: 
S. Leo. ● 12. in qua●●.  By lawful use we pass to immoderate excess, while by care of health, the delight of pleasure creepeth in, and that, which might be enough for nature, is not enough for concupiscence,  
10. That which S. Basil observeth, 
〈◊〉 things work upon the interi●● S. Basi hom. 〈◊〉 mil.  how much external things conduce to the reformation of the internal, is of force also in this. For if a man be desirous of humility, he must (according to the advice of the Saint) practise humility in all outward things, which belong unto him; as in his apparel, in his bed, his chair, his table, his house, and household-stuff; and finally, in all things. And the reason which he gives, holdeth not only in Humility, but in all virtues; and particularly in that whereof we are speaking, that a Soul becomes like the business which it hath in hand, and is wholly configured (as he speaketh) and conformed to that, which outwardly it doth. And no wonder, seeing there is such affinity betwixt body and soul, that whatsoever is offered to our corporal senses, must needs move it; and we find it to our cost by daily experience, that the things which are represented unto it by our eyes, our ears, and other senses, do make much more impression in it, then that which our thoughts offer unto it, though our thoughts be the more natural, and more proper action of our souls.  
11. Which if we consider, 
The difference betwixt them that forsake 〈◊〉 affection, & in effect  it will be no hard matter, to discover the difference which is betwixt him, that leaves the world and worldly things in affection only, and in effect retains them; and him that parts with them both in affection and effect. The former roweth, as it were against the stream, and consequently riddeth less ground, goeth on with more difficulty, is much more tired with it, and far more apt to be carried downwards again, and most commonly it falleth out, that he is; for whom shall a man almost find, that is able to stand in so continual a combat, and bear up against so many rubs and encounters? The other saileth with wind in poop, nothing lies in his way, nothing hinders him, all things help him, all further him, the Place, the State, his Companions, his employments, his intentions, all his thoughts, and whatsoever he heareth or seeth.  
12. S. Gregory addressing himself to those that are of this confident humour, & think they can attend to the service of God, & keep their lands and goods, determineth the Cause for us, as if he had been chosen Umpire on both sides, & giveth the other party a check in these words: Many covet not that which belongs to others but out of a love to an unperfect quiet, 
〈…〉 c. 14  sever themselves from the branglings of this world; they desire to be instructed in holy Writ, they covet to attend to high Contemplations, but yet forsake not the care of household-busines with perfect freedom: and so oftimes, while they lawfully attend unto it, they are involued in the unlawful contentions of the world, & desiring carefully to preserve their earthly things, forsake the quiet of mind, which they sought for; & labouring with continual forecast to save their flitting substance, the word of Divine knowledge, which was conceived in their mind, comes to naught, because according to the saying of Truth, the thorns overcharge the seed which began to spring, 
〈◊〉 8.14.  & the busy cares of earthly things, shut out the word of God out of their memory; and while they forsake not the world perfectly, they walk stumbling on, entangling themselves in their going, that they cannot go. What could be said more clear on our side? and particularly, where styling all earthly things a flitting substance, he giveth us to understand, that the nature of them is to be always either flitting from one hand to an other, or running to decay, and consequently they ask so much care, and pains, and attention to preserve and stay them, that while a man's thoughts are busied in it, what time or means can he have to think of heavenly things?  
13. Now whereas they will needs persuade themselves, that they can keep their worldly possessions, 
Affection to earthly things grows silently upon us.  and not set their affection upon them, they are certainly much mistaken, not only in my opinion, but in the judgement of all those that understand things right. For we see daily before our eyes, how men are taken with the things of this world, before they think of it, merely by use and custom of handling them; and are oftimes most entangled, when they think themselves most at liberty. For as a man grows secretly in love with the bed in which he lies, and with the chair in which he is wont to sit, and finds it not till he be called to rise: So the love of these earthly things creeps so covertly into our affection, that we think ourselves still at liberty, & feel not the fetters, in which they have enthralled us; but then we feel them, when death or chance must part us. We cannot have a better witness of this, which we are saying, then S. Gregory, who delivereth it both upon good grounds of reason, and his own experience. For thus he relateth how he lived in the world.  
14. That which I should have sought, was even then laid open unto me, out of the love of Eternity; but my wont custom had obliged me not to change my outward manner of living; 
S Greg Ep. ante moral.  and while my mind did yet urge me to serve the world, as it were in outward show, many things began to rise against me, of the cares of the world, that now I was held, not in outward show, but (which is worse) in affection. S. Gregory therefore confessing this of himself, others may easily see, how much more they ought to fear, and beware of the like, knowing themselves to be so far inferior to S. Gregory in strength and virtue. For this is the reason, why holy men, as the same Saint observeth in an other place, stand more in fear of worldly prosperity, then of adversity. For they know, saith he, that while the mind is held-on in pleasing businesses, it willingly sometimes leans to exterior things; they know, that oftimes a secret thought doth so mislead it, that it is altered, it knows not how.  
15. And thus much we have spoken of Religion, as it is a fit instrument & means to Perfection, in regard it freeth the passage of all encumbrances, which lie between us and a spiritual life, 
Many things in Religion, of themselves to be desired.  and in a manner stop-up our way. But there is yet something more in it, that of itself, and for itself, is greatly to be desired, and they that have it not (though we should grant them all things else) must needs confess they want no small spiritual ornament & enrichment of their souls. For first in Religion there is the point of Abnegation of our own will, a point of high perfection, and properly Euangelical. 
Abnegation of our wil  For he that is free to dispose of himself as he list, may often, even in good works, mingle much of his own will, in prayer, in almes-giving, and the like; and so much as he mingleth of his will, so much he loseth of the value of his work. So that the happiness which we purchase by wholly unuesting ourselves, and entirely casting-of our own will in all things, and for our whole life-time, is a happiness, that cannot be expressed in words, nor purchased but by the Vow of Obedience.  
16. A man may say, that in the world, the sole Will of God may be our Guide & aim. And it is a glorious saying, and carrieth a fair show, & soundeth big as long as we stand in the speculation of it; but when we come to the proof and practice, all that imagination of perfection vanisheth into the air. For first how secret and uncertain is the will of God? how many errors and perplexities doth a man run into in seeking it? Besides that, he that followeth his own dictamen in scanning it, and making his conjectures about it, putteth always something of his own unto it, which is a thing very considerable. And certainly he is in the far better way, that ordereth his life so, as he may say truly, he hath nothing of his own in it. For this is that perfect Renunciation & Abnegation, which our Saviour commandeth, to forsake ourselves so, as to reserve nothing of ourselves. True virtue therefore is that which Climaens saith, whose words I will set down, because the very simplicity of them doth much please me: 
Clim. c. 25.  An humble man always abhorreth his own will, as deceiver and erroneous: and though all his thoughts and deeds he conformable to the Divine rule, yet he followeth not his own will, nor believeth his own judgement. For to an humble man, it is a grievous pain to rely upon his own will, as to a proud man it is a pain and burden untollerable, to be under the ●il of an other.  
17. And S. Gregory saith excellently well: 
S. Greg ●1. mor. c. ●●  He without all doubt mounteth up to a higher form in the School of Christ, that forsaking all, which outwardly he did possess, endeavours to break his inward will, that putting himself under an other's will, he may renounce not only his evil affections, but his good desires; to the plentiful increase of his perfection, and be at an other's command in all things which he doth.  
18. And then speaking of the reasons which these men allege, and which we have been hitherto confuting, 
The 〈…〉.  he reckoneth them all for temptations of the Devil. For thus he saith: The crafty Enemy speaketh the fairer to such an one, by how much he striveth more eagerly to throve him off from a more eminent standing; and flattering him with suggestions full of poison, he saith thus unto him: O how wonderful strange things mayst thou do of thyself if thou put not thyself under an other's direction? Why dost thou lessen thy profit, under colour of bettering it? What evil didst thou, when thou hadst thine own will? Seeing therefore thou art fully able to live of thyself, why dost thou seek, that another should be over thee to direct thee? Thus he insinuateth himself by flattery, and on the other side, layeth occasions for him to exercise pride in his own wil All this of S. Gregory; which testimony makes the cause evident on our side, to wit, how far more perfect, and more safe it is, to forgo our own will, then to retain it, though we should use it well.  

It is 〈…〉.  19 Besides, it cannot be denied, but that it is far greater humility, to obey God in man, then to obey when he commandeth immediately by himself, as no man almost will stick to obey a King when he speaks himself in person, but many find much difficulty to obey his servants and ministers. And moreover, he that in effect abandoneth the world, and all that is in it, abandoneth it also in affection. For that which he did, he did it willingly, and of his own free choice; 
 but he that will leave it only in affection, first comes short, in that he leaveth it not also in effect; secondly he may easily mistake, and think that he hath forsaken the world, when in very deed he hath not. For in all things, but specially in such as are distasteful to sense, there is great difference betwixt the will of doing a thing, and the doing of it; nothing is more easy, then to have a will and desire; but to do a thing, is hard and painful; and the work most commonly trieth our will, and examineth it, whether it be right; for oftimes a servant resolution when it comes to deed; begins to quail at the difficulty of them.  
20 Finally, that which ought most to move us in this kind, is the example of our Saviour; 
The example of our Saviour, a pregnant argument for Religion.  for whereas his life was a most perfect and absolute model of all our lives, he that cometh nearest in imitating him, is doubtless to be accounted the most perfect. He therefore embracing poverty, and humility, not only in will and desire, but in effect and deed, and following it in the whole course of hi● life, whosoever shall represent in himself, the likeness of him in both those, shall deserve certainly greater commendation, than he that shall resemble him but in one. Which was S. Barnard's opinion, when he said, it was enough for the ancient Fathers to follow the Spirit of God in spirit only; but, 
S Bern ser. Ecce nos.  saith he, now the Word hath been made Flesh and dwelled among us, in him a form of life and sampler of perfection is given us, which we must corporally imitate, that following him with both our feet, we halt not hereafter, with the Patriarch jacob, 
Gen. 32.  upon one leg. And yet we say not this, as if a man might not be saved in these days, if he do otherwise; but to make him know his rank, and that he usurp not the place of perfection, or the office of a disciple. Thus S. Bernard.  

The ancient Patriarcks not to be followed 〈◊〉 in this  21 But because in the beginning, the adverse party used the names of those ancient Fathers, Abraham, and Isaac, and others against us, we must answer this objection also, or S. Bernard for us, who saith pleasantly thus: What shall we answer to these new followers of the ancient Saints? And you will, Let them put calves upon the altar of our Lord, let them kill rams & Sacrifice goats; because Abraham did so. And so goeth-on, discoursing how their temporal wealth was a figure of the Spiritual riches reserved for us; and how they are vanished, & these to be maintained. And addeth (that which is very true) that we shall find none almost of these ancient Fathers, who did not either suffer much by adversity, or was not tried to the quick in worldly prosperity, & perhaps in danger by it, and that we may truly say of them, that they walked in the depth of the divided Sea, & in the mire of many waters, possessing earthly things, & that lawfully; but we have an other more strange and more wonderful new manner of walking upon the waters themselves, by forsaking all things; which grace and prerogative was due to the State of the Gospel, and to Peter, as the Leader and Captain of it.  
22. S. john Chrysostome in his book of Virginity, 
S. Io Chrysost. de Virg. c. 83.  hath almost the like discourse; that we must not wonder, if those ancient Patriarcks had lands, and wives, and great wealth; because God required not of them the like measure of virtue, 
God requireth greater virtue of us.  that he doth of us. For now, saith he, no man can be perfect, unless he sell all, unless he renounce all; and not his money only, or his house, but lay aside all care, even of his life. But in those days there was no such pattern of perfection. And handling this point at large, he giveth the reason, why we have greater commandments laid upon us, than they had; because the grace of the holy-ghost hath been poured forth more plentifully upon us, and greater gifts bestowed by the coming of Christ, who of weak and feeble creatures makes us perfect. Wherefore as men expect more at their children's hands, when they are grown to be young striplings, then when they were children, and find fault with those things in elder years, which it was a pleasure to see in their tender age: So God in those first times condescended in many things, which now in the light of the Gospel we see are imperfect, specially, seeing now also we have a greater reward promised us, to wit, for earth, heaven, for temporal things, joys everlasting.  
23. Finally to conclude, though among those ancient Fathers, or also among people in these days there have been always some, 
Presumption to think, because others have escaped in the world, that therefore we may.  as we know, that in the midst of their wealth and honour, and delights of marriage, or in the degree of Kings, have lived virtuously, yet what boldness were it, or rather madness, in any of us to presume to parallel ourselves with them, & to make account that we shall be able to wade through the dangers which they have escaped? For as S. Thomas well and prudently observeth, they effected it by the prerogative of their sanctity and eminency of Virtue, which God, who worketh all things by the purpose of his will, was pleased to bestow upon them; And yet they that are more in firm, ought not to be so confident of themselves, 
S. Tho. 21. q 186. a 4. Ep. 5.  as to think, that they shall be also able to attain to perfection with all those hindrances: as no man is so foolish as to set upon a whole army of men himself alone, without weapon, because he hath heard, that Samson slew so many of his enemies, only with the jawbone of an Ass.  
24. By this therefore it is evident, that it is far better, more perfect, and more safe (for all these commodities meet together) utterly to forsake the world, and all worldly things, not only in desire, which is always uncertain, and subject to many errors and mistake, but in effect & very deed; a thing which certainly brings to our souls infinite profit and commodity.   

An answer to them that say: It is more perfect to live in the world, because it is harder to live well. CHAP. XXIII.  
THey must also be answered, that say, it is better & more meritorious, to lead an honest & virtuous life in the world, then to live in Religion; because in the world it is so hard to be virtuous & devout, by reason of the manifold impediments that be in it; and chose they take occasion to slight Religion even by that, for which we have all this while so highly commended it, because it is quiet a life, and so far from all fear of danger. For, say they, what great matter is it, or what wonder, if a man, that is shutup in his celle, desire nothing, when he sees nothing that is worth the desiring? or that he live in peace and quiet of mind, when he meddles with no kind of business, feels no loss of any thing? or that he never is transported with passion, when he lives with people that are of an excellent temper, and his own Brethren, that jump with him in conceit, and practise, and every thing? But to converse continually in the midst of beautiful objects, and there to temper himself; to live among the fry of all sorts of people, to have his ears full of railing speeches, to hear and see many forcible things to entice him to sin, and yet always to beare-up, never to shrink or give back, this is virtue. Whereof the Prophet glorieth: 
Psal. 119.7. job 1. S. Greg. 1. Mor. c. 1.  With them that did hate peace, I was peaceable. And holy Scripture doth not without cause relate of job, that he lived in the land of Hus; because, as S. Gregory telleth us, it is no great commendation to be good with the good, but to be good among the bad.  
2. We hear some speak after this fashion sometimes, either out of ignorance, or by mistake, some perhaps also out of a kind of malice, to dissemble their own imperfection, and that they may seem to have great reason to live in the world, when indeed they live in it, because they love it. But it will not be hard, to inform the one in the right, and to confute the other. For if it were true that they always had the better in their spiritual combats in the world, if they always scaped without touch, if they never were foiled nor wounded, they might have some cause perhaps to glory. But it fares not so well with them. 
They that make this objection, are most commonly not of the best.  For it is not possible, that a man without weapon, continuing always in the midst of so many thousands of his enemies, without guard, without any special care or heed of his own, should not daily receive many wounds, and the wounds be so much the more dangerous, the less he perceives them: and we need no other proof of it, than the lives of them that use this kind of language; for we see them continually full of vice and sin. They therefore that are so brag, boast themselves but upon a false ground; for this is not to fight with the enemy, but to be taken prisoner, to be defeated, to be slain by him. 
It is hard to stand always.   
3. But let us grant, that some one among them is Master of the field for many years, that he hath manfully withstood many encounters with the Devils; what is this to the business, if after so many years standing, he once fall before the face of his enemy, once come into their hands? And this is so easy and so subject to befall a man, that it can hardly be avoided in so slippery and so dangerous a place. But let it be so, that he never receive wound: Yet a Religious State hath so many other prerogatives, 
A Religious life excelleth for other things. Threo kinds of difficulty in good works.  and is in such continual practice of all kind of virtue, humility, obedience, fraternal charity, and the like, that though this were true, for which they will needs so highly commend a Secular life, as it is not, yet a Religious life doth infinitely overtop it.  
4. And because they speak of merit, let us sift this point to the bottom, whether the difficulty which is in a Secular life, increase a man's merit? S. Bonaventure doth learnedly answer this question to the full, in the book which he intitleth The Apology for the poor. There he showeth, that a man meets with three kinds of difficulty in the performance of good works: 
S Bon. in Apol panp. a 2.1. resp. 3 p  The first riseth from the works themselves, because they are great, painful, heroical; and this highly increaseth our merit. And of this kind of difficulty, Religion is full; because it containeth many painful things, 
And which of them increaseth merit.  many things contrary to custom, many things above the reach of man, if we regard nature. Whereupon S. Hierome writeth thus to Rusticus a Monk: If thou desire to follow that which is perfect, go forth with Abraham out of thy country; 
S. Hierome. Ep. 4.  and go, thou knowest not whither. If thou hast worldly substance, sell it, and give it to the poor; if thou have none, thou art eased of a great burden; follow naked Christ, naked. It is painful, lofty, difficult; but the rewards are great.  
5. An other kind of difficulty, 
Difficulties rising from corruption of nature do not increase merit.  saith S. Bonaventure, riseth from the corruption of man, by reason either of natural infirmity, or of evil customs, which a man hath plunged himself into. For a covetous man finds much more difficulty in giving, than an other; a proud man, to be under others; a glutton, to abstain; but this kind of difficulty is so far from increasing our merit, that it doth much diminish it: because the repugnancy which is in our will, doth abate the vigour of it, 
S Hier. Ep. 22.  and makes that which we do, less voluntary; whereof the same S. Hierome speaketh excellently well in an other Epistle of his to Eustochium: Thy sister Biaesilla, elder in years, but thy puny in purpose, after she married a husband, in seven months fell to be a widow. O unhappy state of man, ignorant of that which is to come! She lost both the crown of Virginity, and the pleasure of Marriage; and though she stand in the second rank of purity, what crosses notwithstanding dost thou think she endureth every moment? Beholding daily in her sister that which she hath lost, and more hardly wanting the pleasure which she once experienced, she is fain notwithstanding to take a lesser crown of Continency.  
6. The third difficulty (following S. Bonaventure) is that, 
Outward occasions of difficulty are to be avoided.  which riseth from outward occasions; as for example, from the presence of an object, that moves us so much the more violently, from the beautiful aspect of any thing, and the like; which if we overcome, they add indeed sometimes by accident and indirectly to our merit and reward, but yet because of themselves and of their own nature they draw us to ruin, they are by all means to be shunned and declined by every body; & he that doth not shun them, doth not only sin when he falleth, but when he layeth himself open to the danger of falling.  
Whereupon S. Augustin reciting a speech of one that should say, 
S. Aug. ●. 250. de Temp. S. August. ibidem.  he desired something that he might overcome, because it was a brave thing. What is this, saith he, I will have that which I may overcome, but I desire to live under the ruins? In few words showing, that as it were folly and madness for a man not to run out of a house, when he sees it falling upon his head, so it is much greater folly not to fly presently, so eminent dangers of his soul, as be in the world.  

It is not cowardliness to fly the world.  7. And if any body think, that it is but a cowardly part to fly in this case, and that to remain in danger is rather glorious, and a sign of a noble mind; let him give ear to that which S. Hierome writeth of this very thing, against Vigilantius the Heretic. Thou wilt answer, saith he, that this is not to fight, but to fly: 
S. Hierome cont. Vigilant.  show thyself in the field, confront thy adversary with thy weapons about thee, that when thou hast overcome, thou mayst be crowned. I confess my weakness, I will not fight in hope of victory. And what need is there, to leave that which is certain, and go hunt after that which is uncertain? Thou that fightest, mayst overcome, and be overcome. ay, if I fly, shall not be overcome, because I fly, but I fly that I may not be overcome. It is not safe to sleep near a snake; it may be, he will not bite me, and yet it may be, that at one time or other he will bite me. Thus S. Hierome argueth, advising, as he saith himself, that which is best for human infirmity.  

He that seemeth to stand●● out, is overcome.  8. But indeed nothing is stronger than such weakness, nothing weaker than such boldness on the other side. For the weak, when he flieth, overcometh; for he could not fly, unless he had overcome first, and utterly rejected the desire of the present object; and on the other side, that strong man, that taken with the sweetness of it, remaineth in the danger, is even then overcome, and showeth himself to be far than weaker, because he hath not so much power as to withdraw himself out of danger. And he may well be said, to be the more foolishly rash in this kind, because he is blind only in matter of foreseeing and preventing the ruin of his soul, being otherwise in the dangers of his body but too quicksighted. For who is there that will voluntarily cast himself into a tempest at sea of purpose, to show his skill in steering the ship, and not rather keep himself in the harbour, or put-in as fast as he can, before the storm grow too strong? Which ought much more to be our practice in the business of our soul, because that which holy Scripture saith, 
E●●l. 3.27.  cannot but be true: He that loveth danger, shall perish in it.   

An answer to that which is wont to be objected: That Religious people are bound to more perfection. CHAP. XXIV.  
THat which was spoken by our Saviour, and we find written in the Gospel (To whom much is given, 
Luc. 12.48.  much shall be required of him) being spoken indeed to put men forward, and stir them up to virtuous courses; some there be notwithstanding that make use of it, to hold people back, and divert them. For they persuade themselves, that it is the safer course, to content themselves with a kind of mediocrity in virtue, then by aspiring to perfection, to take upon them so heavy an obligation, as will prove in effect much more painful to discharge it, and much more prejudicial unto them, if they acquit not themselves of it as they ought. But how wrongfully they allege these things, we will quickly and briefly show.  
2. For first we must understand, 
Much shall be demanded of all Christians.  that this saying of our Saviour concerns not only Religious people, but all Christians, that have been enriched with so many heavenly treasures, and honoured with so many Divine gifts, and bought with the blood of the living God, and loaded with so many benefits, as daily, & hourly, and every moment of time they receive. They therefore that are not Religious, must not think, that they have escaped the rigorous doom of that Sentence, but take it for a certain truth, that as they have received much, that is, many unspeakable benefits, they will find themselves also in the number of them, of whom much, yea an immensity of correspondance, will be demanded. Whereas Religion, to our excessive comfort, though it throw more benefits upon us, yet those very benefits are withal as many helps and furtherances to discharge and re-inbourse that, 
The overplus in Religion helps to discharge the debt.  which we owe in regard of them, and of all others which are universal to all mankind. For as it is the gift of God to fast, to be chaste, to be obedient: so by the selfsame fasting, and being chaste, and obedient, we render in a manner as much to God, as the gift is worth.  
3. Besides that, 
To be rich, is a disposition for more riches.  this strict denunciation of redemanding that which hath been given us, ought not so much to fright us, as that other promise encourage us: He that hath, shall be given unto him, and he shall abound. For so it is in truth; and the manner and disposition of Almighty God, is, still more and more to enrich and fill those that are full and rich. And in some sort we may say, it concerns him to have an eye▪ 
Matth. 13.12 & 25.29.  that they, upon whom he hath heaped so much wealth, lose it not, but be still receiving more and more at his hands, to strengthen and establish them in that which formerly they had; as oftimes we see gamesters lose more, that they may be no loser's; and they that go to law, the more pains they have taken, and the more money they have spent in it, the more hot they are upon spending.  
4. Finally that which we said before, 
Religious are only bound to aspire to perfection.  is considerable also in this place, that the perfection of virtue is not so required at Religious men's hands, as that they are bound to be perfect. And they that are so much frighted with the obligation which lies upon Religion, mistake the matter, if they think they are. But they discharge their duty, if they aspire to perfection, if they keep themselves still in the way towards it. As it is not required of a Scholar, that he be instantly learned, instantly excellent at his book, because he is a Scholar, but it is sufficient that he desire it, and endeavour to it: and the selfsame we may say of Religious people, if they do not wholly cast aside the thought of virtue, but with convenient care and diligence labour for it, though they be notwithstanding imperfect, they cannot be said to fail of their duty; and those very steps, as short as they are, bring them daily nearer and nearer to God.  
5. By which we may see, 
 that God deals not s●uerely and rigidly with Religious people, but rather gently and sweetly; and is so far from overchar 〈…〉 them, as he layeth rather less upon them, the●●hey are able to go through 〈…〉 So that when we meet with one of these, that neglect a Religious 〈…〉 fears of this nature, we may well liken him to that unprofitable and naughty Servant in the Gospel, that excused his lazines to his Master in these words: I was afraid, because thou art a hard man; thou reapest, where thou hast not sowed; and gatherest, 
Matth 25.  where thou hast not scattered. An allegation both false and impious. For God is so far from demanding more than he gave, as he requireth far less. And the man was justly convicted and condemned by his Master, out of his own mouth. 
They think unworthily of God.  For if he thought he was so hard and severe, it behoved him to be much more diligent, and watchful, and active in making the advantage of his stock. And the same we may say of these. For first they err in thinking so unworthily of that Infinite Goodness and bounty, and casting so grievous an aspersion upon him, as if he were so cruel as they make him. They should rather think the truth, that his gifts are never to our ruin, but for our greater benefit and salvation, and that, whatsoever he requireth of us, he first voluntarily bestows it upon us with a free and liberal hand. Secondly, if they fear, lest they shall be severely punished, if admitting of such a vocation, they make less profit of it; how much rather ought they to fear, if they reject the vocation which is offered them? For whatsoever is offered us, is accounted among the gifts, seeing it was truly given us; and he that rejecteth such an offer, doth not only wrap-up his money in his hand kercher, or dig it into the ground, but, which is worse, he contemns it, and casts it away. They should therefore stand in fear of this, and also of that terrible sentence laid upon that lazy Servant: Lied hand and foot, cast him into utter darkness. And this is the truth of the business.  

Whether the sins of Religious people be greater.  6. But by the way, we must here answer an other doubt, which perhaps staggers a great many, imagining that the sins of Religious people are far more grievous, than the sins of them that live in the world, and deserve far greater punishment. Which if it were true, certainly their case were very hard. We must see therefore, how it stand with them. S. john Chrysostom putting the question, answereth in these words: But thou wilt say: It is not a fault of like consideration, 
S. john Chry●. lib ● con. v●●up. vi mor.  when he, that lives in the world, sinneth, and when he that hath once wholly vowed himself to God, falleth from his purpose of Religion. For they fall not from the same height, and so they receive not harm alike. Thou deceivest thyself mightily, and mistakest the matter, if thou think, that one thing is required of Secular men, another of Monks. And following this argument at large with many reasons, he concludeth thus: Therefore, that a Secular man, and a Monk, are both equally bound to the same diligence and care in their life, and to the highest top of perfection, and that both of them if they fall, shall receive harm alike, I think no man now, though he be very impudent and contentious, will deny.  

 7. S. Thomas canvasing this selfsame question, and disputing it with all the subtleties of it, according to the rigour of Schools, in two several places of his Works, showeth, that setting aside sins of contempt, and such as are committed against their Vows, all other sins, Venial or Mortal, are rather less in Religious people, 
 than greater. And because some perhaps might think it an incredible thing, that it should be so, he giveth three reasons of it. First, because the sins, which proceed not out of a habit and custom, as usually those do which Secular people commit, but of a sudden motion, which comes upon them as a great blast of wind, are less voluntary, and therefore happen seldom; and when they happen, the will of the party that commits them, is not so wholly bend upon them. Secondly, because whatsoever evil they commit, it is easier drowned in the good which they do; and their good deeds plead for more favour at the hands of that infinite Goodness, which is always more inclinable to mercy, than one fact can exasperate him against them; an example whereof we have in King josaphat, to whom the Prophet spoke in this manner: 
2. Paral. 19.2.  And therefore indeed thou deservedst the wrath of God; but good works have been sound in thee. Thirdly, as a Religious man hath more knowledge of God, purchased by long familiarity with him; so he cannot so carelessly cast himself away, and plunge himself so deep into sin, as one that never knew, what the beauty of Virtue, or the ugliness of Sin meant.  
8. For even speaking of our body, when a man comes by a fall, there is great difference in falling by chance when his foot slips, and in casting a man's self headlong down; for the first helpeth himself as much as he can, and riseth presently again: the other crusheth himself far more, and thinks not of rising again, and consequently is more apt to fall an other time, whereas the first grows more wary and strong after his fall. Which is that which the Psalmist saith in these words: 
Ps. 36 24.  A just man, when he falleth, shall not be bruised.  
9 We have also the authority of S. Basil to strengthen us in this point. 
S. Basil reg. br. c. 81.  For moving the selfsame question (Whether the sins of a Religious man, and an ordinary man, being the same, be equal?) answereth, that in a Religious man they are rather less. For a Religious man, saith he, being careful in seeking the grace of God, and labouring wholly for it, doth not fall of purpose, but by chance, and against his wil But an ordinary man, regarding neither God nor himself, and thinking it no great matter, whether he sin, or live well, either contemneth God, or thinketh, there is no God at all, 
Ps. 13.2.  as the Scripture said: The fool said in his hart, There is no God. They are corrupted, they are made abominable in their studies. And we must know beside, that the sins of Religious people most commonly happen for their good, through God's particular direction; God permitting them sometimes to fall, to the end to cure some pride, which before they had in their mind, as it happened to S. Peter. These are S. Basi●'s very words. Wherefore if Religion diminish and lessen our sins rather than aggravate them, what need any man fear, least by reason of his good deeds more be demanded of him, than he may discharge with ease? We may conclude therefore, and say with joy that, 
2. Para●. 3● 19  which we find in holy Scripture: Our good Lord will be merciful to all that seek with all their hart the Lord God of their Fathers, and will not impute unto them, that they are less sanctified.   

Against those that object, that some Religious people live not well. CHAP. XXV.  
SOme have often in their mouth the faults and sins of Religious people, who either correspond not to their duty in Religion, nor to the sanctity of the place, wherein they live, or, which is worse, forsake Religion, & having put their hand to the plough, look back again, and for this they highly discommend Religious courses.  
2. But it is very hard and partial dealing, to impute the fault of a few, to the rest that are faultless; 
Hard dealing.  and much harder, to lay it upon the course itself, which doubtless is holy, and the work of God's own hand. And indeed the truth is, that many of those faults, which are so blazed abroad against Religious people, are false; many of them maliciously forged against them, the Devil labouring thereby to impair the credit of those Servants of God, who are his greatest enemies. And what wonder is it (saith S. Augustin) if men speak i'll of the servants of God, 
S. Augustin Epist. 136.  and labour to stain their reputation, when they cannot deprave their life; seeing they cease not daily to blaspheme God our Lord, when, whatsoever in his just and secret judgement he doth against their will, pleaseth them not?  

In a course cloth, greater spots are not seen.  3. Though there be an other reason, why they talk so much of them, to wit, because the beauty and dignity of the State maketh them easily mark the least blemish in it; as the least stain is a disgrace to a rich garment, or to a white piece of cloth; whereas in a piece of canvas or sackcloth no notice is taken of greater spots; not because they are not greater, but because the stuff in which they are, is so course, that that new blemish is not seen in it. For so in a Secular state we let thousands of greater faults pass, and there is not a word made of them, because it is no news in that State; but in a Religious course the least fault that is, is presently spied, and yet they leave not to be of the least.  

S. Basil Const. Ma. c. 7.  4. That which S. Basil saith to this purpose, is also very true, that Secular people have a strange conceit of Religious men, as if together with their State, they had presently changed their nature, and were not men, but of some other far different mould; 
Religious m●n are men.  and consequently they wrong the servants of God, and think sometimes, that they must scarce eat meat, as if they were not made of flesh and blood; and if they see any of them attend to the necessities of their body, they load them with reproaches and slanders, and turning their calumniations from one upon all the rest, they call them all gluttons and bellie-guts, and think not how themselves do daily feast it, and though they eat often in a day, and cram themselves with a great deal of flesh-meate, and pour down wine by whole bowle-fuls, yet they gape after meat, as dogs that are let lose out of their chain half-starued. Thus speaketh S. Basil in defence of Religious people.  
5. But let us grant, 
False Christians and false Clerks as well as Monks.  that Religious men have sometimes their faults, and that some of them have fallen, and do fall from Religion; must we therefore condemn Religious courses? or censure the whole State, because some are slothful and careless? S. Augustin speaketh wittily to them, that objected this against Monks, in these words: And we also know some such people, but the devout confraternity is not lost, because of some that profess that which they are not. There be as well false Monks, as false Clerks, and false Christians. And S. Hierome saith very truly, that in all states and conditions the bad are mingled with the good; and so much the more, the higher and more perfect and more eminent the State is, for the greater the burden is, the less wonder it is to find some in this weakness of humane nature, that are ready to shake it off, or carry it faintly; and yet their slackness ought not to lessen our conceit and esteem of so eminent a calling. When the Heretic Heluidius had proclaimed war against Virginity, among other things, for which he took occasion to calumniate that State, he said, that some Virgins were taverne-hanters. 
S Hier. con. 〈◊〉.  And how doth S. Hierome refute him? ay, saith S. Hierome, say more; some among them are adulteresses; and, which is more to be wondered at, there be Clergymen that are hucksters, and Monks dishonest. But who doth not presently understand, that neither a taverne-hanter can be a Virgin, nor an adulterer a Monk, nor a huckster a Clergyman? Is it the fault of Virginity, if a counterfaiter of Virginity be in fault?  
6. Let us look upon the whole Church of God, 
The Church is holy, though some be not holy.  and argue in behalf of a member thereof, from the whole body. For though there be many in the Catholic Church, that live debauched, yet the Church is still called Holy; and their wicked lives hinder not, but that the whole company of the Faithful, is truly said by the Apostle to be without spot or wrinkle; because we must not regard, how things have been defaced by most, but what was the first institution in itself, as God ordained it. 
Eph. 5.27.  And in like manner we may say of Religious Orders; they lose nothing of their sanctity, because some among them be not Saints. And if we weigh it well, the argument is yet much stronger in behalf of Religious Orders; for if the Church be styled all fair, 
Cant. 4.  and all of it the beloved of God, notwithstanding that there be more bad than good in it, and more that walk the broad and spacious way, than the narrow; how much more reason have we to give Religious Orders the like honour, seeing there be so many good among them, and so few that are bad?  
7. And besides the holiness of their Institute, 
The virtues of most, recompense the faults of a few.  we may clear them upon an other ground; for whatsoever blemish may fall upon them by the faults of some, it is abundantly stricken-out by the virtuous lives & good deeds of others. Do not (saith S. Hierome) cast thy eye upon judas denying, but look upon Paul confessing. And we have cause to be much more animated at the sight of so many Paul's, 
S. Hier. ep. 34.  then to be discomforted with one judas. To which purpose S. Gregory Nyssen also speaketh in his book of Virginity, answering those that carped at so holy a life, by occasion of some, 
S. Greg. Nyss l. de Virg. c. ult.  that having undertooken it, were afterwards overcome and vanquished. I do not deny (saith he) but that it is hard matter, and beyond the common strain; neither is it any wonder, if in so difficult a business some be overcome with the toil of it, some by other means. And yet we must not be so discouraged at it, as to forgo so rare a thing for that fear: but rather confidently venture upon so profitable a navigation, in the Ship of Continency, with Christ our Pilot, 
Merchant's le●ue not tra●ling, b●c●●se some suffer ship●rack.  with the sweet gale of the holy-ghost. For neither they that go to sea and trade in merchandise, do abandon that course, because they understand, that sometimes some have suffered shipwreck. Besides that, it is most absurd and unjust, to condemn one that hath always lived well, for a wicked man; and to detest the course of life in which he was, for one fault into which perhaps he fell, and on the other side, to think that a man that hath spent his whole life in sin and wickedness, took notwithstanding the best course for himself. For if it be a hain us matter to sin once, and for that cause thou think it better to abstain from those more sublime Counsels and purposes; in how far worse state is he, who hath been always wallowing in the filth of vice? Thus spoke S. Gregory Nyssen.  
8. This is the miserable frailty of this life, so long as we are strangers and pilgrims from God; 
Matt. 18.7.  and as our Saviour foretold us: It is necessary, that scandals should happen: and he that wondereth at it, seems not to understand where he liveth, 
He that wondereth at 〈…〉  and what himself is made of, seeing he admireth it so much in others. Whereupon Cassian, having related the memorable patience of Paphnutius, who being accused of theft by an other Monk, voluntarily underwent the punishment that was laid upon him, though indeed he were innocent, concludeth his narration in these words: And let us not wonder, that in the company of holy men, 
C●ss Co●l 14. c. 16  there lie lurking some, that are wicked and detestable; because while we are trodden and bruised in the floor of this world, it is necessary, that among the choicest wheat, chaff should be mingled, which is to be cast into everlasting ●ire. Finally if we call to mind, that there was a Satan among the Archangels, a judas among the Apostles, a Nicolas (broacher of an abominable heresy) among the chosen Deacons, it can be no wonder, that wicked men should be found mingled among the order of Saints. And to insist a little more upon this example of Paphnutius, 
The rare charity of Paphnutius.  and apply it to our times, if any man be offended, that in a house of that holiness, in an Age so full of fervour, there was some one found so wickedly malicious against one of his Brethren, as to accuse him falsely in that manner; why should he not be as much edified at the humility, patience, and charity of Paphnutius, who to save the credit of his neighbour, and such a wicked neighbour, resolved with himself to abide the disgrace of so fowl a fault, and to beare-out with head and shoulders the whole storm of this infamy? Was not the virtue and simplicity of this Saint much greater, than the malice and envy of that sinner? Besides that, in the whole Monastery there was this one wicked man, and he only to be found in so many years' continuance; all the rest were good, and l●●d lives worthy of so holy a vocation. What perverseness therefore is it to be more forward, to take exceptions upon one man's misbehaviour, then to comm●nd and think honourably of the course, upon the virtue of so many?  
9 At Bona in S. Augustin's Monastery, there fell a great quarrel betwixt a couple, one char●ing another with a heinous crime, 
 so that one of them must necessarily be guilty, either of an enormous fact, or of a horrible lie. The people, that had ●ot the voice of it, began much to admire and complain. Whereupon S. Augustin wrote a notable letter unto them, first reprehending them, for casting an aspersion upon all Religious, because of one man's fact, and secondly he saith, a● Cass●an a little before, 
S Aug Ep ●●.  that it is no wonder nor no news, for some such thing sometimes to happen among such men. What do these people (saith S. Augustin) strive for, and what do they aim at, but whensoever a Bishop, or a Clergyman, or a Monk, or a Nunnefalles, to believe that all are such, though all can not be convinced to be such? And yet when a wife is found in adultery, they neither put away their wives, nor accuse their own mothers. But when either a false imputation is laid upon them that profess this holy name, or some true crime of theirs discovered, they urge, they bestir themselues, they glory to have it believed of al. And a little after: How vigilant soever the order of my house be, I am a man, I live among men, 
Gen. 9  I dare not presume, that my house shall be better than the Ark of Noë, where among eight persons one was a reprobate; or better than the house of Abraham, 
Gen. 2●. 10.  where it was spoken: Cast out the handmaid and her son; or better than the house of Isaac, to whom, of the two twins, it was said, and done: I loved jacob, 
Mal. 1.3. Gen 28 2 R●g 15.  but Esau I hated; or better than the house of jacob, where the son defiled by incest the bed of his father; or better than the house of David, whose son lay with his sister, whose other son rebelled against so holy a meekness of his father; or better than the company which our Saviour had, where the eleven good, tolerated the perfidious thieving judas; or finally better than Heaven, from whence the Angels fel. And in conclusion, notwithstanding he acknowledgeth that these things cannot be avoided, he pleadeth strongly for Religion, and maintaineth the honour and dignity of it to the full. Though we be sorry (saith he) for some dross that comes off, we have comfort of more ornament that remains, do not therefore for the scum that offends your eyes, loathe the oyle-presses, which fill the cellars of our Lord with the fruit of a more bright shining oil. He calleth the Church and the Souls of the Faithful, Cellars of our Lord; giving us to understand, that both the Church and every particular Soul is enlightened with this oil, that is, by a Religious State, and by the work and example of Religious people.  
10. Finally it is not amiss to reflect, 
They are not Angels that make this objection.  that if they were Angels that objected these things, they might have some right to do it, because they live without flesh and blood, free from sin; and it were to be wished, if it were possible, that we might exchange this our life with theirs. But seeing they be Secular people that make this business, and all this comparison is betwixt their life and ours, I know not what they can pretend in all this discourse, seeing they cannot be so shameless, as to prefer their State before a Religious State, finding, as they do, in their own, that they fall so often; that virtue is so scarce among them; that their rewards and deserts are so short in the world to come. 
S. Ansel. Ep. 3.  To which purpose S. Anselm● hath this excellent saying in one of his Epistles: Perhaps some body will say, that in the Order of Monks also there is danger. O the man that saith so! Why doth he not think what he saith? O reasonable creature! Is this reasonable counsel, because there is danger every where, therefore choose to say where the danger is greater? Finally he that endeavoureth to love God only, if he keep his purpose to the end, a sure of salvation But he that will love the world, if he do not forgo his purpose before the end, either must not expect salvation, or his salvation will be doubtful, or less. Thus saith S. Anselm.   

An Answer to their Argument that say: If all should become Religious, the world would perish. CHAP. XXVI.  
SOME object sometimes against Religous courses, as a great inconvenience, that they will be well-nigh the destruction of the world; because, if all betake themselves to a single life, the world must needs be dispeopled for want of posterity. 
This is an ancient objection.  This is no new objection, but advanced in ancient times, and canuassed many Ages past. For S. Augustin propoundeth it in a certain place after this manner: I know some that mutter: 
S. August, de ●ono ●oning. c. 10.  What and if all will abstain from all carnal copulation, how shall mankind subsist? S. john Chrysostome doth not only propound the question, but heapeth many inconveniences that would follow. If all should follow that good, 
S. john Chry de vir. ●. 15  saith he not to touch a woman at all, all things would perish, cities, families, lands, trades, cattle, and whatsoever grows out of the earth. For as when a General is slain in the field, the whole army must needs be put to rout: so if you take Man out of the way, who is the Prince of this world, nothing else can subsist, or be preserved, & consequently this Counsel would fill the whole world with innumerable calamities.  
2. This objection therefore is ancient, and long ago strangled by the holy Fathers. S. Augustin answereth thus: Would to God all would do so; the City of God would be much sooner filled, 
A happy thing if all would live single.  and the end of the world hastened on. And his answer is good; for how much better were it, that the Kingdom of God were come, which we daily beg, and have been taught to do so by our Saviour himself, and that GOD (as the Apostle speaketh) were Alin Al, which shall be, when Christ our Saviour shall have subjected all to his heavenly Father, 
1. Cor. 15.28.  then to prolong our lives in this confusion and mingle of all things? And if it should fal-out (as S. Augustin wisheth) that all should live a single life and chaste, it were an evident sign of the will of God, that the world should have end; and it can not come to a better end, then if generally all should consecrate themselves, soul and body, to so holy a life.  

But it is 〈…〉.  3. S. Hierome answereth the same objection after an other manner: Fear not, saith he, lest all be Virgins; Virginity is a hard thing, and therefore rare, because it is ●ard. Which answer of S. Hierom's is the stronger, if we compare it with the saying of our Saviour: Not all receive this word. Many there be, whom God, out of his secret judgements, 
Mat 19 ●●:  doth not vouchsafe so great a benefit; others he calls to be partakers of it, and they give no ear to his calling, but charmed with the pleasures of this world, they cannot get their feet out of the nets, in which they are entangled; finally others upon other motives & hindrances, are so held back, that the truth of that, which Truth itself delivered in the Gospel, is very plainly to be seen: 
Matth ●●. 13.  The way is narrow, which leads to heaven; and few do find it. Which was spoken indeed of the ordinary way, which all Christians ought to walk, but is much more verified in the way, which Religious people take; insomuch that in regard of the narrownes of it, all Secular ways may be said to be broad. And not only the infirmity of man (which taketh place in the far greater part) doth not allow this benefit in the common & ordinary among men, but it belongeth also to the provident wisdom of Almighty God, 
God also provideth otherwise.  to have care, that there be always some to attend to posterity, so long as his will is this inferior world should last; which providence of his watching over the very beasts and worms of the earth, and preserving every thing in kind, as it was first created, no man can have cause to misdoubt, that he will forsake mankind.  
4. S. john Chrysostome doth laugh at these people, 
S. Io. Chry. de Virg c. 15. They should rather care for their souls.  that are so solicitous to uphold the world, and labouring so earnestly, that mankind fall not to decay, which concerns them not to think of, lay aside all care of their own soul, as if it belonged not unto them; and consequently, that they do it not out of a desire of the common good, but to colour their negligence and sloth. And tells us withal a truth, which is worth the observing, that Marriage of itself doth not propagate mankind, because the parties are often barren, as it happened in Abraham; but it is the blessing which God gives; and God can multiply men as he thinks good. Then he showeth, 
Marriage 〈…〉 n●w▪  how there were two reasons in the institution of Marriage; the one, to beget children; the other to extinguish natural lust in that kind; and saith, that the first now ceaseth, seeing the world is so full, that it is rather overcharged; as for the other reason, there can be no question, but that lust is far more perfectly extinguished by the grace of God, and by the virtue of Chastity, then by the use of Matrimony.  
5. But some body will say, 
Distinction of Sexes is not mad● void by ● single 〈◊〉.  that the difference of Sexes, and the faculty of generation, will be in vain in them that do not marry; and yet Nature hath given it us, and God hath so appointed; and no man that is wise, doth any thing in vain. This is the argument both of ancient Heretics, and of those of our days, that maliciously oppose and cavil at the wholesome continency, with which the holy Church is so much honoured and stored. We must therefore make the same answer, which we make to heretics, to wit, that whatsoever is instituted for the good of the whole kind, is not idle or in vain, though in some particulars of that kind it hath not the effect, if in others it have. We see the like in most natural things; for in all kinds of fruit and herbs there comes a great deal of seed, which is never sown, rather a small deal of it is used to that end; and yet no man ever accused Nature for it, as if it had made it in vain. And we may say the like of man, though in man there is yet a further thing; for Continency in this kind, being free and voluntary, and in every body's power to practise, or not to practise it, it was not fit, that Nature should determine it, but the will of Man; neither that we should be borne so, but that we should out of reason and judgement embrace it. Wherefore it was fitting, that all should equally have the power by nature, both they that would use it, and they that for the Kingdom of heaven would refrain the use of it. And this is answer enough to this point.  
6. But we have an other reason still to deal with, not altogether unlike this, which we have now confuted, of some that are not solicitous for ●he continuance of the whole world but of their own House and Family. 
The 〈…〉 posterity  And therefore if their only son, or only daughter make choice of a Religious State, they lament and mourn, and, which is worse, they repine at it, as if their wh●le Family should be quite rooted out And to say the truth, it is but a foolish and impertinent kind of grief. For which is more to be stood upon, the sanctity of a S●ule, or Posterity? And what good is there in posterity? If they fear they shall want an heir, upon whom their lands may descend, first they have a world of kindred, and perhaps more then enough; secondly, there will never want poor people, in whom they may make Christ their heir, upon far better conditions than their own child. For one man that is heir to an other that is dead, cannot requite him that made him his heir, but Christ our Saviour doth then most of all recompense a man with rewards eternal. Moreover, what would they do, if that only son of theirs have no issue? For so their line would fail, and, which is more to be lamented, without thanks and without reward. Which argument S. H●erome doth chiefly insist upon, 
S H●er. 〈◊〉. 10.  when he persuadeth Furia not to marry. Dost thou fear the li●e of Furia shall fail, and that thy father shall not have a little one of thee, to creep in his breast? for all that are married, have children. It is ridiculous to hope for certain that, which thou seest many have not, and many lose it, when they have it. To whom shalt thou leave all thy riches? To Christ, who cannot dye. What heir shalt thou have? H●m that is thy Lord.  

The happiness of a Re 〈…〉 life, 〈…〉.  7. But to grant, that it is happiness to preserve a man's Family; how small, how short, how far inferior is it to the happiness of a Religious life? For not only particular men, but whole Families dye, and once come to an end▪ and though they continue never so long, yet in time they must needs decay, and a● last be wholly extinguished. Seeing therefore they a●e subject to so many casualties, is not he a very fool, that shall feed himself with hope, that his issue shall always continue, and moreover strive so much, that it may continue, as to oppose himself to the Counsels of God, and endeavour to alter and hinder them?  

Too much desire of posterity is not Christianlike.  8. Finally how doth this extravagant desire of continuing a descent, become a Christian? for in a Heathen and Infidel it might be perhaps more tolerable. For, as Aristotle writeth, the reason why men and beasts have a desire of issue engrafted in them, is because, saith he, all things covet to be always, and always to continue, but because they cannot in themselves compass it, being subject to dye, 
Arist. 1. Pol. c. 1.  they labour to compass it at least in their own kind, in which they seem after a manner themselves to continue, so long as a part cut of from them doth continue. What force hath this reason in the light of Christianity, wherein we have so certain a promise of an Eternity in our own persons, both in body and soul, that we need not seek that in others, which we shall have in ourselves? And this is that which Nature chiefly desires. But the misery is, that most men do not govern themselves according to this Divine light, but suffer themselves to be lead by Sense, and their natural inclinations, which, I must needs confess, is a most corrupt and most dangerous proceeding.   

Against the fear of some, that they shall want necessaries for their body. CHAP. XXVII.  
LEt us prevent, and cure, if we can, their fear also, that mistrust, lest if they forsake all, they shall not have wherewithal to pass their life. 
Two causes of thi● fear.  Of which fear what can be said more proper, then that which is in the Psalm? And they spoke evil of God, and said: Can God prepare a table in the desert? S. Bonaverture in his Apology for the poor, 
Ps 77.21. S. Bonan. in Apol. pavy. 4. ris● 3. par. a. 2.  reduceth all this difference to two heads, and saith, it proceedeth either of Infidelity, as in them that do not believe, that God hath care of what happeneth among men, at leastwise not of them in particular; or it comes out of Pusillanimity, which is ever coupled with a slackness in the love of God, and an earnest love of ourselves; whereas they that frame a right conceit of the goodness and providence of God, cannot doubt but that God hath more care of their life, than they themselves.  
2. Whereupon S. Augustin saith: 
S. Aug de Orat 〈…〉.  A just man cannot want daily food, seeing it is uritten: Our Lord will not kill the soul of a just man with hunger. And again: I was young, and became old, and have not seen a just man forsaken, nor his seed seeking bread. And our Saviour promiseth, that all things shall be added to them, that seek the Kingdom of God and the justice thereof; and whereas all things are God's, he that hath God, 
Dan 14.  can want nothing, if he be not wanting to God. So when Daniel was by the King's commandment shutup in the Den of lions, God sent him his dinner, and among the hungry wild beasts, 
3. Reg. 17.  the man of God was fed. So Helias was maintained in his flight, the crow's ministering unto him, and the birds bringing him meat in time of persecution. 
S. Hier●● c. 5. 〈…〉.  S. Hierome saith the same in fewer words: Let no man doubt of the promises of Truth. Let man be as he ought, ●nd presently all things shall be added to him, for whom all things were made. A true and solid reason! For all things in the world being made for Man, they never withdraw themselves from his service, unless he first withdraw himself from the service of God. And if he return to serve God as he ought, he may claim as it were by right all other things as his own and due unto him.  
3. S. Ambrose expounding that model of an Apostical man, 
S. 〈◊〉 l. 6. 〈◊〉.  which is set down by our Saviour in S. Luke (without satchel or scrip) saith thus: Protected by Faith, let him make account that the less he requireth, the more he may have. Seeing therefore we have so many testimonies b●th of the holy Fathers, and of holy Scripture, in behalf of this providence of Almighty God▪ and the care which he hath of his, that we shall scarce find any thing more often and more expressly commended unto us, it can be no small fault, as I said before, to doubt thereof; for it were to make God either covetous or forgetful; unworthy things both of them of so infinite a Majesty. For we cannot possibly imagine, how he can be either more magnificent and profuse in giving, or more liberal of his love, or more careful in providing, or more ready in doing for us. And S. Augustin doth deservedly reprehend such as have so mean a conceit of God, in these words: 
S Aug. de 〈◊〉.  Dost thou think, that any thing shall be wanting to a Christian? to a servant of God? to one that is given to good works? to one that is dear to his Lord and Master? Dost thou think that he that feedeth Christ is not fed by Christ? Dost thou think, that he to whom Divine and heavenly things are given, shall want earthly things? from whence comes this distrustful thought? what maketh an unfaithful hart in the house of God? Thus saith S. Augustin.  
4. All which will be yet more evident, if we consider the peculiar right, which Religious people have in this kind, 
Men are 〈…〉 for Religious people. 〈…〉 their Poverty.  whether we regard God, or man. For speaking of men, there be many reasons, that oblige them to furnish Religious people with all kind of necessaries. For first, Religious people having given all they had to the poor, and brought themselves voluntarily to Poverty, deserve likewise, that others should give them wherewith to live; and they are in the right that are of opinion, that in this there is not only an obligation of Charity, but in some sort, of justice.. An other reason is in regard of the ●abour and pains, 
1. Cor. 9.11. 2. Tim. 2.6.  which they take for the eternal good of their neighbour: for the workman is worthy of his reward, and they that sow spiritual things, must reap carnal things, as the Apostle speaketh. And in an other place, he saith: ● The husbandman that laboureth, must first gather of the fruit. The force of which reason will be the more evident, 
And of the pains they take for their soul.  if we consider the cause, why Prelates demand sustenance as of justice due unto them; for sustenance is not due unto them, as honour is due to power and authority, but as wages is due for work and labour. Religious people therefore having their part in this work and labour, and labouring so hard as they do, it is but reason they should have part also of the fruit, specially so much as is necessary to continue their labour. Which is not only of force in Preachers, and such as labour immediately for the good of their Neighbours, but in others that employ themselves in any profitable course for them. For they that minister at the Altar, of the Sacrifice whereof all Faithful are partakers, and they that attend to Prayer and Contemplation, and the Study of holy Scripture, and such other spiritual functions, as are for the benefit of the whole Church, all of them, as I said, have right to be maintained of the people's liberality.  
5. A third reason is grounded in Religious perfection. For all Divines agreeing that alms is first to be given to them that are better, 
And of their virtue.  and rather to them then to others, is followeth that they are in a perfect State, and live in a course that is furnished with all kind of virtue, are to be preferred far before all others. To which purpose S. Hierome applieth that which is written in S. Luke: Make unto you friends of the Mammon of iniquity; that when you shall fail, they may receive you into the eternal Tabernacles; 
Luc. 16.9. S. Hier. contra Vigi.  and showeth, that it cannot agree to ordinary poor people. Are they poor, saith he, amidst whose filth and nastiness, fiery lust doth command? Can they have eternal tabernacles, that neither have them in present, nor to come? For, not simply the poor, but the poor in spirit, 
Mat. 5.3. Ps. 40.1.  are styled blessed, of whom it is written: Blessed is he, that understandeth over the poor and needy; our Lord will deliver him in the evil day. In maintaining the ordinary poor, there needs no understanding, but pity; in the holy poor, there needs the understanding of Beatitude, to bestow upon him that is ashamed to take, and when he takes, is sorry that he reaps carnal things, having sowed spiritual. 
S Aug in Ps. 101. ●on●. 3●  And S. Augustin hath the like saying upon the Psalm: The noble Cedars of Libanus, the lofty rich men of this world, when they hear with fear, Blessed is he that understandeth over the poor and needy, they look into their goods, their farms, all their superfluous wealth, in which they seem so lofty, and give them to the servants of God, they give orchards, they build Churches and Monasteries, they gather sparrows that make their nests in the Cedars of Libanus. It is therefore as it were a kind of impost or custom due to Religious people from the Seculars, and Secular people understand it so, and that makes them so free and openhanded, and always so ready to supply all their necessities.  
6. An other ground of this right (for so we may call it) more solid than the other, 
God obliged to have care of Religious people.  is GOD himself; not only in regard of the general providence which he hath over all things in general, and provideth for the birds of the air, and the flowers of the earth, or which he hath over all men, though they be wicked, raining, and making his Sun to shine upon them; or over the just, of whom it is written: I saw not a just man forsaken, nor his seed seeking bread. But Religious men have a particular reason proper to themselves; 
Ps. 36.25.  because, forsaking their possessions, and their hopes, they have cast themselves wholly upon his fatherly charity. So that though there were nothing else, this were sufficient to oblige, as I may say, his goodness to have care of them, as a father of his children. For God is not one, that will suffer himself to be overcome with liberality and munificence; and consequently, we are so far from losing any thing, when we forsake all we have, as we are rather gainers by it; the infinite wisdom of God taking upon him the charge of providing for us, so that we may be assured, 
Our for●cast very short.  that we shall want nothing. On the other side, when we will take upon us to provide and care for ourselves by our own wit and forecast, how many things must we needs want? For our forecast is so slender and so short, whether we be to provide for the future, or to order things present, that we must needs often fall into many great errors & inconveniences. 
S Io. Chrys. h●m. 50. ad pop..  Whereupon S. john Chrysostome gives us this Caveat: Take no thought for thine own, but leave it to God. For if thou leave it to God, he will provide. And again in an other Homily, which is all in commendation of a Monastical life, he reckoneth this among the special benefits if God, 
I●. ho. 57  because if God feed all flesh, much more will he feed his servants, that have consecrated themselves unto him; and consequently, all things necessary are derived unto them out of the providence of God, as out of a fountain of running water. By which similitude of a fountain, he would give us to understand, both the abundance and perpetuity of these benefits, and also that we come by them without any labour, as wa●er springs from a fountain.  
7 And it is a pleasant thing to behold the examples of this providence of God over Religious people, and to read the many testifications thereof, which are upon record in ancient histories almost without number. 
The providence of God towards Abbot Hellen.  But that is singular, which Palladius recounteth of Abbot Helen; who falling a-sleep, after he had long fasted, there came an Angel, and awaking him, bade him eat of that which was set before him. And rising he saw that there was a large fountain of water suddenly sprung-up by him, and abundance of green herbs round about him, and tasting of both, he said, he never in his life dined better. And afterwards when he wanted sustenance, he ever was wont to kneel down and offer up his prayers to God, and presently he was served with diverse kinds of meat, with new bread, olives, and other fruits. What can be more loving, or more pleasant to think of, than such a providence, which stoops so low as to act the part of a Steward? Or why should we think, he will forsake his other servants, seeing he was so careful to provide for this his servant by so daily a miracle, as if he had been his Clerk? But, as I said, the lives of Saints are full of these kind of examples, but we will make choice of two especially, not unlike the one to the other, and taken out of two Religious Families very like also together.  

And two Dominican Friars.  8. For S. Dominick in the beginnings of his Order, sending his Religious into diverse places, two and two together, according to the manner set down by our Saviour, to preach penance: it happened that two of them being fasting and very wea●●e with their journey, the ninth hour of the day being past, were discoursing somewhat heavily betwixt themselves, how they might get some relief, in that poor and unknown place; and as they were talking, there came unto them a tall comely man in somewhat a strange kind of habit, and gave them a good check for their weak and small faith. Could you, said he, believe God so far, as to forsake all for his sake, and cannot you now believe, that he hath care of you? He that giveth beasts their food, will not suffer his children to dye for hunger, which you this day shall abundantly experience. And vanishing out of their sight (for it was an Angel) they went a little onwards on their journey; and coming to the next village, while they were at their prayers, a Priest invited them very kindly home; and as they were going to his house, a Gentleman met them, and would by all means they should go with him; and as these two were thus straining courtesy together, the Lord of the place seeing them by chance, overruled the business, and bad both the Friars, and the Priest, and the Gentleman to his house, and feasted them very nobly.  

And two of S. Francis his Order Ps. 54. ●3.  9 And it is recorded also of S. Francis, that when he sent any of his Friars in Mission, he was never wont to give them any thing towards their charges upon the way, but that only verse of the Psalm: Cast thy thought upon our Lord, and he will maintain thee; the faith of which Verse was as good to them as any money. It happened therefore, that two of them, having traveled almost all the day long, what with emptiness, what with weariness, began to ●aint; and though they begged relief, no body gave them any thing; till at last there met them a young man, that understanding of them the cause, why they were so weary and sad, gave them a couple of loaves; and as they sat down to eat them, he reprehended them sharply in these words: Men of little faith, why did you mistrust the Divine providence? Why did you not call to mind the words of the Prophet, which the holy Father hath so often inculcated to you: Cast thy thought upon our Lord and he will maintain thee; seeing his goodness is not wanting to the very beasts of the field? Wherefore know, that God differred his help for no other reason, but to punish this diffidence of yours with hunger. And having held this and the like discourses with them, he vanished out of their sight.  
10. Let others therefore in God's name have their lands, and possessions, and rents, and duties gathered with much toil and labour, subject to hair, and drought, 
〈◊〉 Lordships belonging to Religious people.  and rain, and other mischances; we have two Lordships, as I may call them, the rents whereof are certain, and free from all miscarrying; to wit, first the Providence of Almighty God, in a manner obliged unto us through his own infinite goodness, and that act of ours, when we left all for his love: and secondly the Relief from our Neighbours, due in a manner not only of charity, but of a kind of justice. And this is that which the Prophet ●●ay seemeth to promise, when he saith: 
Es. 60.16.  Thou shalt suck the m●lk of nations, and shalt be fed at the breasts of Kings. For by Nations, we may understand the common people, by Kings, rich men, and men of authority; whose liberalities the Prophet compares to milk and a woman's breast, because milk is the juice of harder meat, and of meat which is not gotten but with some labour, and some work of nature in the nurse to make it; and yet the infant sucks it without labour, and with a great deal of pleasure. So Religious people have that for nothing, which others purchase with a great deal of labour, and sweat, and trouble, and oftimes not without danger. So that they may be well likened in this to the ancient Hebrews, 
Ps. 104 44.  of whom it is written: And they possessed the labours of people.  
11. We may therefore conclude, that he that misdoubteth, lest in Religious poverty, that which is necessary, should be wanting, wants not only judgement and consideration, but eyes to see, how many thousands of men and women consecrated to God, have been in all Ages, and are to this day maintained through his goodness and providence, and with such abundance and certainty, that no Secular people can more certainly rely upon their lands of inheritance. For they also have their lands, to wit, those two Lordships, as I said, so rich and plentiful, that if our Lord should ask them, 
Luc. 22.35.  as anciently he asked his Apostles: When I sent you without satchel or scrip, did you want any thing? they must of force answer with joy and thanksgiving, as the Apostles did: Nothing.   

Of the fear, which others have, lest they may hasten their death, by the incommodities, which they shall suffer. CHAP. XXVIII.  
WE have cured this fear; yet there remaineth an other, which also concerns our life, which as it is the dearest thing we have, so naturally nothing is more hateful and more detestable than that, which either bereaves us wholly of it, or in part diminisheth it And to any man's thinking, it cannot be but that our life should be in some measure shortened with the labours, and watchings, and continual pains, and many incommodities, which a Religious course must necessarily involve. Whereupon besides the hastening of our end, some may have a scruple, lest they be guilty of their own death, by thus voluntarily, through corporal austerities cutting off the time, which is allotted them to live. To answer this objection therefore, we will begin with this scruple; for that being taken away, the rest will be easy to answer.  

It is meritorious to shorten out days.  2. We must therefore understand, that Divines, who dispute this question at large, make no doubt, but that it is lawful for a man to shorten his days, and not only lawful, but commendable and meritorious. For though it be not lawful of purpose to kill ourselves; yet to do some good thing, whereupon it shall follow, that our life will be in no small measure shortened, is not only lawful, but oftimes most acceptable to God. And we may justify it by many precedents, and particularly by the ancient approved custom of the Church of God, in appointing long fasts, and laying most grievous pennances upon such as offended; which doubtless could not but cut off not a little, but much time of their life.  

Worldlie people do the like for other ends.  3. And it is the more certain, the Religious people offend not in this kind, because whatsoever incommodities they suffer in Religion, others suffer as much in the world for other ends. For if Religious people watch all night, many tradesmen do the like for gain; if they suffer cold, and hunger, and travail much on foot, how many poor people be there, that are in far greater want, both of relief and apparel, and other necessaries, and yet live? It is evident therefore, that it is not rashness, and that we ought not to have any scruple of doing that for the service of God, which so many do for the love of the world.  
4. Wherefore this point being cleared, that we are not murderers of ourselves: If the case were so, that Religion did hasten our death, how glorious a thing were it to be of so noble a spirit, as to contemn all things, even our own life, for God? And if Religion did shorten our days, as Martyrdom doth take our life quite from us, might we not justly in this respect account Religion a kind of Martyrdom? 
Religion a kind of Martyrdom.  For though we be not cut off suddenly, & with loss of blood, that doth not alter the case; for we find that S. Marcellus is accounted a Martyr, though he lost no blood, but died in a cage of wild beasts, by the continual stench of the place; and S. Pontianus, though banished into the Island of Sardinia (which at that time was held to be a pestilent air) he pined away by little and little; and others, that either with labour of digging in mines, or with the weight of irons, in length of time, have come to their end. If therefore Religion also should deal thus with us, how much should we think ourselves beholding to it for making us Martyrs, 
A happiness t●l 〈◊〉 our life shortened.  and bestowing so great a good upon us, as is Everlasting glory in heaven, and bringing us so much the sooner unto it, which of itself is generally accounted a great happiness; and taking us out of this mortal life, which is so barren of all goodness, that in comparison of the life to come, it hath no good in it, but rather much evil? For we live here continually among so many traps to catch us, that we do but prolong our misery, and increase affliction; & as long as it lasteth, we must of force abide the cruel assaults of our spiritual enemies, and stand to the continual hazard of the combat betwixt us and the Devil, the event whereof is so uncertain, and withal of so main importance. What therefore, as I said, should we desire more than once to see an end of so many evils, and such fearful dangers, and to end them in so blessed a manner as we may in Religion? For Religion, as we showed in the first book, affordeth extraordinary helps in that doubtful passage; so that whereas the very thought of it is dreadful to others, the thing itself to us is sweet, secure, and to be desired, in regard we have so long before shaken off all things, which, as so many setters, are wont to hinder others, when the how●e of parting cometh; and enjoy moreover at that instant many comforts, and among the rest the presence and prayers of so many of our Religious Brethren, as then flock about us. Wherefore seeing in this life all things are irksome and tedious, and in the death of a Religious man all things so safe and happy, and death itself a beginning and entrance to a life more happy, though Religion should hasten our death, what harm should it do us? Rather if we were so wise, as we should be, we should even for this reason desire it.  
5. But to say the truth, it is a false imputation, which people lay upon Religion, when they say, 
Men live long in Religion.  it is a bloodsucker, and dispatcheth men apace out of the way (for this is their meaning though they will not say so in express terms) Rather, if we look well into it, it prolongeth a man's life, as we may see by so many aged men, as Religious houses are full of, and we find upon record in ancient Writers, even among them, that have lead most austere lives; as S. Hierome, who lived a hundred years; and S. Antony a hundred and five; S. Pachomius was yet elder than S. Antony by five years. S. Arsenius came to a hundred and twenty; and the same we read of S. Romualdus, and he passed one hundred of them in Religion. Cassian mentioneth many of his own knowledge, & writeth almost of none, that lived not till he was very old, naming particularly three, Nesteros, joseph, and Cheremon; which last, he saith, he saw a very old man, of a hundred years, stooping, and venerable for his hoary hairs. Now if a spare diet, or the continual meditation of heavenly things, or any pains of this nature, would kill a man (as these men will needs have it) they being so wonderful temperate in their diet, and living so austerely as they did, should by consequence have been taken away in a very sometime.  
6. But there is no such thing, 
Secular people more subject to sudden death.  as both reason and experience showeth. They on the other side, that are rich among Secular people, and live in all plenty and abundance of pleasures and dainties, are almost continually troubled with crudities and fumes, and want of sleep; they are oftener and more dangerously sick, and pass sharper cures: and finally are subject to far more accidents, that hasten their ●eath, both for the reasons already mentioned, and for other causes, which their own and others folly & rashness doth draw upon them, by 〈◊〉 and the like; from all which a Religious life is free; Temperance and the constant order which they keep in all things, drying-up superfluous humours, and so preserving health. In which respect S. john Chrysostom sticketh not to say, 
S. john Chrysost. l. 3. con. vit●vit. more.  that Religious people, besides the abundance of spiritual blessings, which they enjoy, have also better health of body, by reason of their temperance and spare diet. They are, saith he, as strong as ploughmen, and have able bodies like beasts; whereas rich people, and they that are daintily brought up, and commonly accounted happy in it, are, as if they were bred in a quag-mire, tender and effeminate, and more subject to all kind of diseases. And S. Hierome holds the like discourse against jovinian, 
S. Hier. ●. con●. jovin▪  and proveth out of the Axioms of Physic, that a moderate diet preserveth health; and addeth to this purpose: We read of some that being tormented with the gow●e and diseases in their joints, who by having their goods confiscated, being brought to plain and hard fa●e, were cured; for it freed them of household cares, and profuse banckets, which destroy both body and owl.  

Contentment of mind is a cause of health.  7. The constant peace and contentment of mind also, which Religious people enjoy, is no small means for them to live long. For certainly as grief and passion do waste a man's spirits, and put our life, as I may say, upon the torture; so contentment of mind, redounding necessarily to the body, must also needs preserve it, and give it much ease, by reason of the affinity betwixt the soul and it. And though we grant, with S. Hierome in his discourse against jovinian, that a Religious life, and such temperate courses, do not make us so strong as Nilo Crotoniates, that is nothing to the purpose. For what necessity is there, saith he, that a wise man, and a Christian Philosopher should have so much strength of body, as one that professeth himself a Wrestler, or a Soldier, seeing if he had so much strength, it would but egg him on to sin?  
8. Wherefore to repeat in brief that which hath been said, there be two ways to answer this objection. First, by denying that a Religious course doth shorten our life, and on the other side maintaining that Sobriety and continency doth rather prolong it; Secondly, by confessing that it doth cut off part of our days, and taking it for the greater benefit, in regard that whereas all men, Kings, Princes, and all must necessarily dye, Religion makes this necessity in a manner voluntary, by going, as is were, to meet death half way, and increasing thereby our merit and reward in the measure which I have spoken, the few days which we spare of the miseries of this life being added to eternity, and abundantly recompensed by the increase of our everlasting felicity. Contrariwise, they that neglect a Religious vocation for fears of this nature, buy those few years, which they get, at a very dear rate; neglecting so great a good for fear of so small a loss, and putting their eternal salvation to so great a hazard.   

An answer to those, whom the love of their body hinders from Religion. CHAP. XXIX.  

Our own flesh a deadly enemy of Religion.  AMONG all those that oppose Religious courses, we have not a more dangerous and a more deadly enemy, than our own flesh. For naturally it loveth liberty and wantoness, and is greedy of the pleasures of meat, drink, and sleep; it shuneth labour and pain; it is hateful to it, to be alone; it will not fast; it flieth poverty & the incommodities thereof as a grievous cross. So that whosoever will hearken to his own flesh, or call it to counsel in this business, shall be sure never to put his neck under the yoke of Christ, or never constantly to go through with it. We must therefore at the very first shut it out of doors, and have no communication with it, but keep it in order and awe, 
S. 〈◊〉 de torp.  that it be always submissive and obedient, and presume not to command or give directions. We must chastise our body (saith S. Basil) and restrain the motions thereof as the motions of a beast; and by the command of Reason, as with a whip, stint whatsoever trouble it raiseth in the mind, and not give all the reins to our will without regard of Reason, lest it be carried away headlong, 
Pythagoras.  and torn in pieces, as a coachman with unruly horses. Let us imitate Pythagoras, who seeing a pupil of his give himself to good cheer and pamper his body, said unto him: Why dost thou build thyself a prison? And of Plato also it is reported, 
Plato.  that understanding well, how many hindrances came by the body to the mind, he chose to place his School of purpose at Athens, which was an unwholesome seat, thereby to cutof the superfluous health of our body, as one would prune a vine. Thus saith S. Basil.  
2. And supposing (as I have said) that our flesh is made to be subject, two things are well to be considered in this place, which do necessarily follow, First that it is not so hard a matter to keep it in subjection, 
It is a soul fault to yield to flesh and blood.  seeing it is naturally borne to be subject: Secondly if we d●e not keep it in subjection, our fault is the greater. For if a man be overcome by one that is stronger and more powerful than himself, it is pity, but yet he is to be pardoned; but the spirit having so much power and strength to overcome flesh, and to master the desires thereof, it is the greater shame if it do not; specially seeing if it be not master, it falls into a most miserable servitude, and is every foot apt to be drawn into all kind of unworthy actions at the command of the flesh.  
3. Wherefore i● upon the wholesome deliberation of entering into Religion, our flesh do repine and draw back, as most commonly it will, if it be afraid of the hardness of the diet, and apparel, and other austerities incident to that kind of course, we must take the more courage and resolution upon us, and arm ourselves the stronger, against all the allurements and niceness thereof, and force it to do that, be it never so much against it, which when it shall have accommodated itself unto, will be so profitable both for flesh and spirit, and imitate the courage of S. Hilarion, 
The courage of S. Hilarion  who in the flower of his youth, as S. Hierome writeth, having taken upon him a hard course of life, when he found his body grudge at it, insulted over it in this manner: 
S. Hierome in 〈◊〉 vi●a●.  Thou ass, I will make that thou shalt not kick; I will not feed thee with corn, but with straw; I will punish thee with hunger and thirst, and lay heavy load upon thee, and make thee think more of thy meat then of wantoness.  
6. But some body will say with the Apostle: 
Eph. 5.29.  No man ever hated his own flesh, but nourisheth and cherisheth it. And I grant, it is so; neither do I deny, but that it is natural to love our body. 
To chasti●e our flesh is to love it.  Nature teacheth us to love ourselves, and whatsoever is part of ourselves. Wherefore when we speak of chastising and curbing our flesh, it is understood, that we must do it out of love, and not out of hatred of it, but consider withal, what is truly love, and what truly hatred. If through sickness a man's body be i'll at ease, and the Physician prescribe a diet to take away the peccant humours of it, or order that it shall be let blood, or that a limb shall be cut off, as sometimes it happeneth, because the party is otherwise past cure; he that shall follow the advice of the Physician, shall he be said to hate his body, are to love it? Rather he shall be said to hate it, that doth not follow advice, because he hurteth his body and increaseth his disease, and is oftimes cause of his own death by it, which is the utmost that hatred can arrive unto. This therefore, which we do in every ordinary disease and distemper of our body, much more ought we to do in greater and more dangerous diseases of the same, which are the evil inclinations, which it hath. For the fever of lust, and whatsoever other exorbitant heat of desire, is no less a fever, then when our body is out of order with distempered humours; rather it is the more dangerous fever of the two, because it pulleth us in hazard of eternal death. Wherefore, if we be content to take a bitter potion, or apply some other distasteful medicine to this evil affection also of our body, we cannot be said to hate our body, 
● Aug. 1. 〈◊〉. c. 24.  but then most of all to love it. To which purpose S. August●n writeth thus: No man hates his body; wherefore, whereas some say they had rather have no body, they are deceived: for they hate not their body, but the corruption and burden of it; and that which they aim at, is not to have no body, but to have a body entire and incorrupt. Now that some seem to persecute their body with labour and continency, they that do it as they should, do it not that they may not have a body, but that they may have it subdued, and pliable to all necessary actions. For, because after the Resurrection, the body shall be in perfect quiet, altogether subject to the Spirit, and immortally flourish, our care in this life ought also to be, to change our carnal conversation for the better, that through disordered motions it resist not the spirit.  
5. We have therefore out of S. Augustin, that, to chastise our flesh, and bring it into subjection, is not to hate it, but truly and perfectly to love it; not to go about to kill it or destroy it, but to perfect it, and give it a beginning of that beauty and glory, 
Philip. 3.2.  which it expects, when it shall be configured to the glory of Christ; which S. Leo also confirms in these words: A man loveth himself so much them re, 
S Leo ●●rm ult de Pas●.  the more he doth not love himself for the love of God. But no man can speak more plainly in this case, than our Saviour: He that loveth his soul, 〈…〉 it; and he that hateth his soul in this world, keepeth it to life everlasting. For by a man's soul in this place we must not understand the superior part, 
joh. 12.23.  which we call t●e Spirit; but that which depends upon the flesh and blood, and is called li●e. This our Saviour bids us hate; and yet not properly hate it, but because we must deal with it, as we do with the things which we hate, that is, use it hardly and rigorously.  

divers considerations to strengthen 〈…〉.  6. In this holy and wholesome hatred therefore, we must settle and fortify our soul and reason, that it be not drawn from the performance of that, which a Religious vocation requireth, by the allurements of the flesh; and fortify it, first, by the love of God, which doth naturally rejoice in suffering hardness for the service of God; we must fortify it by the example of our Saviour Christ, who suffered so much for us, to the end we should follow his footsteps; we must fortify it by calling to mind the Divine comforts and heavenly sweetness, which G●d of his goodness is wont to mingle with the labours and difficulties of a Religious cou●se, to season the harshness of it. For he deals with us, as we use ●o dea●e with little children, when we desire they should take a bitter potion, or some wo●mewood-drink; before and after they drink it, we put some sweet t●ing t● it, to take away the bitterness of the potion: so God much more; because the greatness of the Divine comforts, drowns in a manner all the bitterness of whatsoever trouble of this life, and makes that we do not feel it. The memory also of the rewards of the life to come, and the hope of the recompense which we shall have in Heaven, is a forcible encouragement to overcome all trouble, which our flesh may suggest; for if we once settle our thoughts upon it, we cannot but concur in opinion with S. Bernard, 
S. Bernard of qui ha●● 〈…〉  who likeneth all corporal austerity to seed; for when a husbandman cast his seed into the ground, there is a kind of show of loss in it▪ and yet we should account him a fool, that for fear of that seeming loss, would not sow, because the gain, which he shall reap in the crop, is far greater. S. Bernard's words are these: How do carnal people say unto us: Your life is a cruel life, you spare not your own flesh? Let it be so; we spare not the seed. How could we spare it better? Is it not better for it to be renewed and multiplied in the field, then putrified in the barn? do you spare your flesh in this manner? Be it so, that we be cruel for a while in not sparing it; certainly you are more cruel. For even at this time our flesh resteth in hope.  
7. Finally the innumerable examples of them that we know have lead most austere lives, 
.  must needs be a great encouragement unto us, and perhaps the greatest tha● we can think of, when we represent unto ourselves a S. Antony, S. Hilarion, the tw● Macaries, S. Pachomius, S. Romualdus, S. Bernard, S. Francis and infinite others, that have been rare for all kind of sanctity, and particularly in dealing rigorously with their bodies. And perhaps in truth, or at least if we compare their manner of proceeding, with that which is ordinary amongst others, we must confess they we●e too severe, and went beyond the moderation, which a body would think we●e reason. But God would have it so in them, and gave them that abundant measure of grace and strength, not that others should strive to be as rigorous in that kind as they, and compare with them in it (for that were absurd temereity) but to the end we should the more willingly and more cheerfully apply ourselves to that measure and proportion, which is now used in Religious Orders, and not think any thing intolerable, seeing they went through with far greater austerities. What therefore need we fear in a way, which, we see, hath been trodden by so many Saints before us; in a way where we meet with such abundance of heavenly comforts, as I have discoursed of in so many Chapters before; in a way, where whatsoever can be bitter, being cast into such a sea of sweetness, must needs be exceeding sweet?  
8. But all this, which we have said, belongs to the cure of the mind, and the strengthening of it. Is there no medicine for the flesh itself? It is hard to find any; because our flesh is neither capable of advice, nor apt to taste the sweetness of virtue, nor to foresee the hope of that which is to come; 
An 〈…〉 out flesh.  so that properly that which it doth, it must do upon command, and be compelled unto it, as a beast with the spur, & switch, & curb, & sometimes perhaps with good bast●nados, & by use and custom be brought to that, which is reason, and made less shy of good order and discipline. And yet not to leave it wholly destitute, but by reason also to persuade it (as much as it is capable) to be content to take pains, 
S. Bern. ser. 6. in Alu. D●m.  and live continent, we may lay before it that dainty exhortation, in which S. Bernard demonstrates, that a Religious and virtuous course of life, is profitable for the flesh itself. These are his words: Do not, o body, do not 〈◊〉 all the time. For well mayst thou hinder the salvation of thy soul, but canst not work thine own. All things have their time. Let the Soul now labour for itself; or rather labour thou with it; because if thou suffer with it, thou shalt reign with it. So much as thou hind'rest the reparation of it, so much thou hind'rest thine own; because thou canst not be repaired, till in it God see his image reform. Thou hast a noble guest, o Flesh; a noble one indeed; and all thy welfare dependeth of the welfare of that guest; yield due respect to so great a guest. Thou dwellest in thine own country, but thy soul lodgeth with thee as a pilgrim, and a person exiled. I beseech thee, what country-fellow, if a Nobleman or a man of great power would lodge with him, would not willingly lodge himself in some corner of his house, or under the stairs, or in the very ashes, and yield the more honourable place to his guest, as it is sitting he should? Do thou therefore the like; regard not thine injuries or troubles, so that thy guest may have honourable entertainment with thee. And that thou mayst not peradventure flight and contemn this thy guest, because he looked like a pilgrim and stranger, think carefully with thyself, what benefit the presence of this guest doth bring thee. It is he that giveth sight to thy eyes, hearing to thy ears, sound to thy tongue, taste to thy palate, and motion to all thy members. If there be any life, any sense, any beauty in ●●ee, a knowledge it as a favour of thy guest. Finally his parting will show, what his presence yielded; for so soon as the soul is departed, the tongue lieth still, the eyes see nothing at all, the ears are deaf, the body grows stiff, the face grows won; and after a short time all will be a stinking rotten carcase, and all the beauty of it turned into corruption. Why therefore for every small temporal delight dost thou disgust and hurt this guest, seeing but for him thou couldst not so much as feel any delight? Moreover if being as yet exiled and an outcast from the face of God, by reason of the falling-out of God and him, he be so beneficial to thee, what will he be when he shall be reconciled? Do not, o body, do not hinder that reconciliation; for thyself mayst come to great glory by it. Offer thyself patiently, yea willingly to all; let nothing pass which may be a furtherance to this reconciliation. O if thou couldst taste this sweetness, and value this glory! The Lord of hosts himself, the Lord of virtues, the King of glory himself will come down to reform our bodies, to configure them to the body of his glory. How great glory will that be, how unspeakable an exultation, when the Creator of all, who came humble before and hidden, to justify souls, will com● lofty and manifest to glorify thee (o miserable flesh) not now in infirmity, but in his glory and Majesty? How long therefore doth this miserable, foolish blind, senseless, and truly mad flesh seek after transitory and perishable comforts, yea certainly discomforts, if it happen to be put by, and judged unworthy of this glory, and moreover eternally tormented unspeakable torments? All this is of S Bernard.   

Of them, whom the love of the world hindereth from Religion. CHAP. XXX.  
NO doubt but the comeliness and beauty of Religion is so great, that were it not, that people are as it were held in irons by the flattery of the world, and the false shows which it makes of deceitful pleasures, it were able to invite and bring all men to embrace it. For we know there are many, and ever have been, that being called of God, and acknowledging themselves to be so, have made offers to follow him; and yet held back by the commodities and pleasures of the world, have not had the hart to disengage themselves, and fly out of it, but still have remained in their former fetters entangled. What remedy, but to show them plainly before their eyes, what the world is wherein they live, that is, what mischief lies hidden in it under this shadow of pleasure, which they are so loath to part with? Six kinds of mischief we may reckon, 
Six evils reign in the world.  reducing them to these heads: Deceit, Shortness, Misery, Danger of offending God, Blindness, Sinne.  
2. First therefore what is more full of deceit, and a more open lie, than the world? 
Deceit.  making so many fair promises, and performing nothing; and when it makes a show of performing, coming far short of what it promised, it tells us, that the commodities which it offers, are special good, full of contentment and happiness, where indeed there is no true contentment, no solid joy or pleasure to be had in them. And we shall not need to stand alleging reasons to prove it, we see it with our eyes. For how many do daily wait at Court, and spend year after year in attendance, hoping for preferment, and promising themselves by certain conjectures and possibilities, that infallibly now they shall get it, and yet after so many revolutions they neither obtain the suit they pretended, nor any other reward or commodity, but must give it over with loss, damages, and utter ruin. Amongst them that labour to raise themselves, and their Families by traffic and merchandise, few come to that which they desire, far more grow bankrupt, by mischances at sea or otherwise. And to gran●, that the ambitious come to preferment, and the covetous to the wealth which they aimed at; neither of them certainly do ever arrive to that contentment of mind and pleasure in this life, for which they so much coveted ●●ese temporal things.  
3. Rebecca desired to have a child, 
Gen. 15.  and what did she not to compass her desire? what means did she leave unessayed? And y●t after she was with child, and felt her children fight in her womb, O, said she, ●●●t had been to be thus with me, what need was there to conceive? And many there be, that daily sing the same song, and falling into infinite trouble by the children, which perhaps they begged earnestly of God, wish they had never had them. And that which they do in their children, others do in other things; and being bitten by the incommodities of them, they loathe them, and hate them as much, as before they were hot in pursuing them. And no wonder; as long as they beheld them afarre-of, they seemed to be full of sweetness and pleasure; but when they come to handle them, than the vinegar and gall appears, 
S. john 〈…〉.  which was in them. Which S. john Chrisostome lays open before us with his wont eloquence in these words: Many have been desirous of a wife; and the selfsame day that they have had her, they have with open mouth called them happy, that never married. And if they that have been married, have accounted it a troublesome kind of life, what shall we say of them, that swallowed-up in the gulfs of whoredom, and more slaves than the basest slave that is, have consumed themselves to nothing in those delights, and brought their bodies into diseases without number? But some body will say, that Glory is pleasant. Rather nothing is bitterer, than that kind of servitude. For a man that is ambitious of glory, is more slave, than any slave, begging favour of every body, but he that treadeth it under 〈◊〉, is above al. But it is a lovely thing to have money. Rather I have often showed, that they, that are quit of money, and have nothing, live in far greater abundance and quiet. It is therefore more delightful not to be rich, then to be rich ●●t to have a wife, then to be married; to be free from vain honour, then to be catching after the glory, which is but wind, and to shun all pleasures, then to swim in them. Thus saith S. john Chrysostome.  

 4. A second evil of the world, is the shortness of all things in it. For in reason we must needs see, that no worldly felicity can be longer than a man's life is, that enjoyeth it. And how short is every body's life by nat●●e? how much shorter in many, by unexpected chances? We know there have been many Popes, that have not held that Sea a year to an end; many have been preferred to Bishoprics, and Cardinalships, and Princely dignities, that have been cut off in a very short time, before they have been almost invested. And though people should live a long time in them, and see ●euer so many years, yet at last all must come to an end; and when that cometh, all that which is past, being gone, and come to nothing, we discover plainly, that that which seemed before so long, was but a moment, specially if we compare it with the Eternity, which followeth; which seemeth to be the meaning of those words of Ecclesiastes: If a man have lived many years, and been jocund in them, 
I. 〈◊〉. 11.8.  he must remember the dark time, and the i'll days; which when they shall come, the things which are past, will be convinced of vanity. And the Prophet Es●y calleth all that felicity a Dream; 
〈◊〉. 29.8.  because there is no truth, no solidity, no permanency in it, but all is mere toy; 〈◊〉 (saith the Prophet) one that is hungry, dreameth, and cateth; and when he awaketh, his soul is empty; and as one that is thirsty, dreameth, and drinketh; and after he awaketh, he thirsteth still, and is weary.  
5. And yet if in this short fel●citie, there were any parcel of time, though never 〈◊〉 short, 
.  in which a man might say, he had his full contentment, a man might seem to have some reason to desire it; but it is nothing so. For here comes the third mischief, that the world is so full of misery and misfortunes, that the pleasures of it are like a little honey mingled with a great deal of gall and bitterness, what with the diseases of the body, and with the unfortunate chances of a man's estate, and household-busines, what with quarrels and mischances without number. One suffers in his honour, another in his goods, a third in his wife, or children, or kindred; another comes by a blow in other things, which no wisdom, or virtue, or honesty can prevent or hinder. So that we must necessarily acknowledge S. gregory's words to be true. 
S. Greg ●. Dial. c. 〈◊〉.  The world were to be despised, though it should flatter us, though with prosperous things it should insinuate itself into us; but seeing it is loaded with so many stripes, overtoyled with so much adversity, and doubleth upon us daily so many sorrows, what else doth it cry unto us, but that it is not to be loved?.  
6. A fourth evil, is the continual danger of offending God, & the many temptations assaulting us on every side, 
Danger of offending God.  of which I have spoken sufficiently already elsewhere. For in a manner there be as many several occasions of sin in the world, as there be several things in the world, all of them clawing and inflaming concupiscence, by the beauty or pleasure, which is in them. Our senses are as so many gates and passages to destruction; some things take advantage against us by our eyes, others by our ears, others by our taste, others by other faculties of our soul, that we may truly say with the Psalm: It shall rain snares upon sinners. 
Ps. 1●. 6.  For these Snares hang as thick upon the things of this world, as drops fall in a shower of rain some in poverty, some in riches, some in friendship, some in distaste with others, some in company, some in solitariness, some in prosperity, some in adversity, some in honour, and some in disgrace.  
7. And a greater misery upon the neck of this; 
The blindness 〈◊〉 world 〈◊〉 people.  that people ordinarily are so blind in the world, that they see not, and consequently are less able to shun these snares, walking as it were in darkness. Is it not great blindness to live as people usually live? To regard men more than God; to be more observant of the laws and customs of the world, then of the law of God; to be so very solicitous for that, which concerns the body, and so careless of their soul, as if they had none at all; finally to take so much pains for temporal and perishable things, and not to be willing to move so much as a fingar for that which is eternal; and knowing so certainly as they do, that they shall dye, to discourse and talk and project, as if they were always to live.  
8. What wonder is it then, if through the multitude of these snares, and this hideous darkness, and blind mist, which hangs before their eyes, they fall into the last and greatest of all other evils, an infinite company of sins and heinous offences, and bring all things to confusion? For we see, that in the world all in a manner live like beasts; 
Infinite offences in the world.  their passions lead them by the nose, whither they list; they ●ustle and run at one another, as beasts with their horns and heels, and are ready to eat up one another through hatred and displeasure. The good are neglected, the rich only and powerful, honoured; the poor, oppressed; truth, sanctity, sincerity in a manner exiled; deceit, dissembling, flattery, vanity b●a●e sway; and, that which is the source of all other evils, a most desperate forgetfulness of God, and their own soul's salvation. This is the face of the world, which if any man will behold and view with an unpartial eye, he will be so far from being taken with it, that I persuade myself, he will utterly detest it, and think himself never at quiet till he have gotten out of it, as out of a stinking prison and ever-winding labyrinth of error; which is that which the Prophet Hieremie wi●hed: 
Hier. 9.2.  Who will give me in the wilderness an Inn of travellers, that I may forsake my people, and depart from them, because all are adulterers, a company of transgressors?  

Some saved in the world.  9 But some body will say: Are all wicked that live in the world? and is there no hope of their salvation? God forbid; some there be amongst Secular people, whom God doth preserve from bowing their knee to Baal; but they are few in comparison of others; and they that are, go on but slowly, and with much difficulty, and easily get a slip, and fall back again. Now when we advice upon any thing, we always regard that, which most commonly happeneth, and that which is natural to the thing, which we advice upon, and not that which happeneth to one or two. The nature of fire is to burn, & of water to drown, whosoever goes into it: and yet the three Children had no harm in the fire, nor S. Peter in the Sea; and many others have escaped both without hurt. 
That which happeneth to most, is to be regarded most.  And is there notwithstanding any man so mad, as to cast himself wilfully into the sea, or into the fire, because they escaped? For, as I said, we must regard the nature of the thing, not that which falleth out sometimes contrary to the ordinary course, by the particular providence of God. And the same we may say of the world. For seeing the natural disposition of it is so evidently deceitful and malicious, and the pestilent infection of Sin so generally spread all over it, that it is hard to avoid it, and few escape it; seeing also there be so few in it, that find the narrow way to salvation, though some do, in all reason it is to be shunned, as I said of fire and water.  
10. For who can warrant thee, that thou shalt be one of those few? And what folly is it, to put a business of so great consequence as thy eternal salvation or damnation in so great a hazard? or to imagine thyself so fortunate, that the poison of the world shall have no force upon thee alone, though thou confess, it generally infecteth others? This were madness indeed, & a sign of little care of salvation, specially beholding before our eyes so many, that suffer shipwreck; and holy Scripture so severely thundereth in our ears so many fearful sayings, and amongst the rest that of S. james: 
jac. 4.4.  Adulterers, do you not know, that the friendship of this world is enemy to God? Whosoever therefore will be a friend of this world, is made an enemy to God.   

Against the fear, which some have, that they shall never be able to shake off their evil customs. CHAP. XXXI.  
THere be others, whom neither the love of the world, nor of their own flesh doth hinder from Religion, because it is too open, & too palpable a temptation to yield unto: But they are held back by another more subtle device & fear, lest the evil habits which they have gotten in the world, will be still hanging upon them, still confronting them; and have not so much confidence as to hope to root them out, because by long custom they are so deeply settled and engrafted in them; & unless they do root them out, they think they shall not be at peace and quiet, nor be able to persever in a course so contrary to their wont strain.  
2. But they that buzz upon these thoughts, 
A fear without ground.  first, in my opinion, fear where there is no fear; for there is no reason at all, why they should doubt, but that in Religion they shall overcome all these evil customs whatsoever they be; and secondly, I do not well understand the ground & drift of their discourse in it. For if they conecave, that a body must continue to live a secular life, and that it is be●ter to do so, because they think they shall never shake off their evil habits; me thinks it fares with them, as if a man finding himself in a long journey, quite out of his way, should choose to go on in his error, rather than go back again, because of the labour & difficulty which he apprehends in it; whereas he knoweth most certainly, that the farther he goes on, the farther he goes out of his way, & consequently shall either never come into the right way again, or, if he resolve ever to come into it, must take much more pains and labour to effect it; for so these kind of people will either be continually heaping one vice on the back of another, 
Eph 5 1●.  despairing (as the Apostle speaketh) of themselves, or, if at any time they think of reforming themselves, and returning into the way of virtue, it will be the harder for them to compass it, the longer they continue their wont customs.  
3. But the principal means to break the neck of this temptation, will be to show evidently, what a gross error they are in, that think it so impossible a thing to overcome their evil customs, whereas indeed in Religion they may be easily overcome; which we shall quickly demonstrate, if we consider the nature of the customs themselves, 
All habits perish by cessation from the act.  & the grace of God. And from the nature of the evil customs I argue thus: Evil customs are habits; and the nature of all habits is, that as they are gotten by use and often acts, so if we cease from these acts, by little and little the habits themselves vanish away and perish. As for example; if a man be skilful in music or in picture-drawing, or if he write a fair hand, or have any other art or science, as he got it by use and practise and often endeavour, so if he never exercise it, or, which is more, if he practise it but seldom and carelessly, it decays of itself, and at last he quite looseth it. And no doubt but we shall find the like in all evil dispositions of the mind also; as if a man be choleric, or intemperate in his diet, or other pleasures, and cease from the acts of these vices, as before they grew & waxed stronger and stronger by being fed with daily offences, so if we take away their former allowance, they must needs grow weak, & lessen in us.  
4. Besides that, 
And by contrary practice.  as those evil dispositions were bred by evil actions, so the practice of virtue breeds contrary habits of virtue; as when a Religious man doth not only cease from acts of pride and vanity, but practiseth humility, & embraceth all occasions of contempt of himself from his very hart; when in steed of the love of worldly wealth, & his wont pleasures he begins to love the hardness of poverty and the like, in all which a Religious state doth incomparably help him, ministering daily occasions of these & other virtues, & in a manner forcing them upon him.  
5. And what need I be long? 
Sight and conversation with good people, alter a man.  Not only the endeavour & application of a man's mind is thus effectual, but the very sight of so many good men as are in Religion, & the daily conversing with them, is able of itself to alter a man, be he never so rude and uncivil, and by little and little to instil goodness into him. If we take a beast out of the woods or forests, and bring him up at hand, he loseth after a while his wildness, and becomes as tame and gentle as a whelp. And this we see effected not only in dear, and wild goats, which are naturally timorous, but in lions and bears, which are otherwise of themselves fierce and cruel; and yet these beasts can add nothing inwardly of themselves, nor use any endeavour to overcome their nature, but the bare custom of being among men doth silently work upon them, and by degrees give them another nature and fashion, and make them tame. What effect therefore must the selfsame needs have in men, who have judgement moreover and understanding, & can inwardly apply themselves, and labour their own reformation and polishing.  

The force of the 〈◊〉 of God.  6. And if nature, and industry, and application be thus forcible, what shall we say of the Grace of God? It must certainly needs be much more powerful and more effectual, and in a short time work a perfect cure upon whatsoever in us. For, as the Wiseman saith: It is easy in the eyes of God, suddenly to make a poor man rich. 
〈◊〉 11 23.  And by his holy Prophets he often promiseth, that he will help & assist us forcibly in this kind; as when in Esay he saith: Fear not, because I am with ther, decline no●, because I am thy God; I have strengthened thee, and holpen thee, and received thee in the hand of my lust. 
Es. 41 10.  And then giving us to understand, that we have no cause to doubt of the victory, he addeth: Behold, they shall be confounded, and ashamed all that sight against thee; they shall be, as if they were not; and the men shall perish, that contradict thee. Thou shalt seek them, and thou shalt not find them; men that are rebellious against thee, and they shall be as if they were not. Who be these, that are rebellious against us, but evil customs, and sinful motions of the mind, which will not hearken to Reason, and obey it? such as we cannot have at that command, but that sometimes they will be stirring against our wil These habits therefore & inclinations remain in us, as if they were not; that is, they remain in us not to our destruction, but for exercise; to put life into us, not to take away our life from us; finally as occasions of a greater crown, not as snares to our ruin. Which is the reason, why S. Paul termeth the contradiction of his flesh, not a sword, 
2 Cor. 12.7.  or a lance, but a prick; because a prick cannot run through a man to wound him, but only prick him, and serves merely to awake us, and stir us up to run, & be more quick and careful in the performance of virtuous actions. This is the effect, which the Grace of God works in us: It reformeth our understanding, our will, our sensual appetite, and all the powers of our soul, and putteth it, in a miraculous manner, in another kind of hue, which is that New creature, of which the Apostle so often speaketh.  

Proved by experience.  7. And we should hardly believe, that it were possible there should be such a sudden alteration in the servants of God, but that we find it by experience in ourselves, and see it with our very eyes in others, and have for it the testimony of all such men, that have written of spiritual things and Religious courses. Cassian applieth those words of the Psalm (Wonderful are thy works, 
Ps. 138.14.  and my soul shall know them exceedingly) principally to the works, which God, as he saith, ordereth by his Saints of his daily operation. For who, saith he, will not wonder at the works of God in himself, 
Cass. Coll. 12 c. 2.  when he seeth the admirable ravening of his belly, and the costly and pernicious lavishness of gluttony suppressed, and brought to take a little course fare, seldom, and against his will? Who can but be astonished at the works of God, when he feels the fire of lust so cooled, that he finds scarce the least motion in his body? whereas before, he esteemed it altogether natural, & in a manner unquenchable. How can he but tremble at the power of God, when he sees people of a rough and fiery disposition, that were apt to be put into raging choler by the friendliest service a man could do them, to arrive to such mildness, that they are not only not moved at all with injuries, but rejoice in them with a noble courage, when they are offered? Who certainly can choose but admire the works of God, 
Psa. 135.5.  and with great affection cry out: Because I have known, that great is our Lord; seeing himself, or another, from being extremely covetous, become liberal; from being prodigal, become sparing; from proud, humble; from being nice and effeminate, austere and careless, and voluntarily to embrace and rejoice in poverty, and want, and perjury of things present? These are certainly wondrous works of God, which particularly the soul of the Prophet, & of such as are like to him, acknowledgeth with admiration by the light of extraordinary contemplation. 
Psa. 45.9.  These are wonders which he placeth upon the earth; which the same Prophet considering, calleth all people to admire them, saying: Come and see the works of God, which he hath placed wonders upon the earth, taking away wars to the end of the earth; he will bruise the bows, and break the weapons in pieces, and burn the targets with fire. For what wonder can be greater, then in a moment of time to make Apostles, of covetous Publicans; patient preachers of the Gospel, of cruel persecutors? Insomuch that with the shedding of their own blood they have dilated that Faith, which before they persecuted. These are the works of God, which the Son professeth, 
joh 5.17.  that he daily worketh with his Father, saying: My father to this day worketh, and I do work. All this is Cassian's discourse.  
8. S. Bernard goeth farther, 
A soul omnipotent by the grace of God. Cant. 8.5. S. Ber. ser. 8 5. in Can●.  and saith, that a soul by reason of this grace of God, is in a manner omnipotent, though not by the strength which it hath of itself, but of God. And interpreteth to this effect those words of the Canticles: Who is this that ascendeth from the desert, flowing in delights, leaning upon her beloved? Truly (saith S. Bernard) leaning in this manner, she will grow strong against herself, and more powerful than herself will bring all to reason; anger, fear, desire, and joy; and govern like a good coachman the chariot of her soul, and bring into captivity all carnal affection, and the inclinations of the flesh, to the b●●k of reason, in service of virtue. How possible are all these things to her that leans upon him, 
Ps 4 13.  who can do all things? what a confident speech is it? I can do all in him, that strengtheneth me? Nothing doth make the omnipotency of the Word more evident, then that he maketh all omnipotent, that confide in him: So a soul, if it presume not of itself, if it be strengthened by the word, will easily have full command over itself, that all injustice shall have no command over it. So, I say, him that leaneth upon the Word, him that is clothed with virtue from above, no force, no fraud, no allurement can pull down from his standing, nor bring in subjection from the command, 
S. Ber ser. 20. in Cant.  which he hath. If therefore this be true, which S. Bernard saith, how can we fear, lest our crooked inclinations should be more kept down with the weight of them, then relieved by the sweetness of his grace? For really it concerns no man so much as it concerns God, to cure the wounds and sores of a soul, that hath put itself wholly into his hands to be cured, and to thrust out old customs with new, as we beat out one nail with another; as S. Bernard also speaketh.  
9 Let us hear, what S. Augustin saith in this business; for his testimony is of great weight, as delivering for the common good that, which himself experienced in the change, which he made of the course of his life. These are his words: Mere toys and vanities of vanities held me back, 
S. Aug. 8. Conf. ●a. 11.  my ancient housewives, and shook me by the coat of my flesh, and secretly muttered: dost thou leave us? and from this instant shall we not be with thee any more for ever? and from this instant must it not be lawful for thee to do this and that any more for ever? And a little after: They held me back while I yet was slow in breaking away, and ridding myself of them, and passing thither whither I was called, my violent custom said unto me: Dost thou think thou canst be without these?  
10. And thus it passed with him in that strife and great quarrel of flesh & spirit, as he calleth it; but when he had once broken prison and shaken-of the bands in which he was entangled, and given himself so wholly to the service of God, that he neither looked after wife, nor any worldly hopes, how was it with him then, and what did he find in himself? How sweet, saith he, was it presently unto me, to want the sweetness of those toys? 
Id. lib. 9 c. 1.  Now it was a comfort to forsake that, which before I was afraid to lose. For thou, o true and sovereign Sweetness, didst cast them out of doors before me, and enterdst thyself in lieu of them, sweeter than any pleasure, but not to flesh and blood; clearer than any light, more private than any secret, more lofty than any preferment; but not to them that are lofty in themselves.  
11. We have S. Cyprian also, that can witness the same out of his own knowledge, setting down the two several states of his mind in these words: While I lay in darkness, and in the dead of the night, while in the sea of this wavering world I was tottering, 
S. Cypr. lib. 2. Ep. 2.  and perplexed, and floating with wand'ring steps, that which the Divine commiseration promised me for my welfare, seemed hard and harsh unto me, as the world went with me then, how a man could be borne again, and alter his mind and soul, the frame of his body remaining as before. How is it possible (said I) to make such a change, and so upon the sudden and so speedily to shake-of that, which being bred in us, is grown hard by the settling of that natural matter, or by long use made a custom, through ancientness of age and time? These things have taken too deep root in us. When shall he learn frugality, that hath been accustomed to long suppers and curious banckets? or he that hath shined in his silks, and been glorious in his rich garments and cloth-of-gold and purple, when shall he stoop to plain and ordinary apparel? He that hath been compassed with troops of clients, and countenanced with a long train of officious followers, will think it a torment to be alone. It cannot be otherwise, but that custom of drinking wine will be always calling upon a man with tough persuasions; pride will puff him up; wrath will set him on fire; covetousness will disturb him; cruelty will egg him forward; ambition will flatter him; lust will cast him headlong. This discourse I held often with myself. For as I was entangled with diverse errors of my former life, which I did believe was impossible to shake-of; so I yielded to the vices, which did then cleave unto me, and out of despair of being better, I favoured my evils, as mine own, and borne in my own house. But when by help of the Regenerating water the foulness of my former life was washed away, and the light from-above shined upon my pure and sanctified breast, when receiving from heaven, the second nativity had repaired me into a new man; presently, after a strange manner, things which were doubtful, appeared certain; that which was shutup from me, was laid open; dark things became lightsome; that which was hard, was easy; & that possible, which before seemed impossible to be performed. All this, and much more is out of S. Cyprian; which every Religious man may see and acknowledge in himself. For that, which Baptism wrought in him, Religion worketh in us, dying to the world and our former conversation, and being newborn in it to God and a spiritual life. And Religion is so much the more able to work this alteration in us, because it doth both help us many ways to increase the inward grace, which we receive in Baptism, and furnisheth us beside with many outward means and instruments speedily and easily to, to attain to all perfection.   

An answer to them that fear, that they shall not persever in Religion. CHAP. XXXII.  
Having shutout this fear, which took occasion of the corruption of our former life, it will not be hard to cure another fear not unlike unto it, and most commonly caused by it, to wit, lest our resolution howsoever it be servant in the beginning, in time growing cold, we look back, 
The causes of this fear.  and be swallowed up again in the world. This fear riseth first by consideration of our own infirmity, man by nature being wonderful weak, specially when he meets with hard encounters; and then the lamentable ends of those, that began to run well, & in the midst of their course have sunk and fallen back, work forcibly upon our apprehension; insomuch that some think it wisdom, to learn by others perils, and to look to themselves betimes. But S. Gregory doth excellently discover this kind of temptation and deceit of the Enemy, and convinceth it to be no other, 
S. 〈…〉 Mor. ●. 12.  in these words: Ofttimes we see many that desire the life of holy conversation, but have not the power to undertake it, because they fear sudden chances and disasters that may befall them, who while like provident men they take thought to prevent uncertain evils, are unprovidently detained in the bonds of their offences. For they lay many things before their eyes, which if they happen in their conversation, they fear they shall never be able to subsist. Of whom Solomon saith well: 
Pro. 15. 1●.  The way of lazy people, is as hedges of thorns; For while they love the way of God, their fearful suspicions meeting with them, prick them as thorns of the hedges that are in their way. This is S. gregory's opinion of this business. And in my judgement, that saying of job may be fitly applied unto them: They that fear the white frost, snow shall upon them. For while they give way to fear of uncertain dangers to come, 
job. 6. 1●.  they remain for the present in great and most certain evils.  
2. But to lay open the root of this distrust, let us consider, what may be the causes of so soul a breach betwixt God and us, after we have plighted our troth and bound ourselves by Vow unto him. There can be no other ground of it, but if either God depart from us, or we from God, that is, if either God forsake us, & withdraw his holy spirit from us, 
God wi● not ●●●sake us.  or we suffer ourselves to be overcome with tediousness, or labour, or inconstancy, & so forsake him. As for the first, it cannot enter into any man's thought to think, that the infinite goodness of God will at any time take from us the gifts, which once he hath bestowed upon us. And S. Paul assureth us of it when he saith: 
Rom. 11.29. Mat. 3.6. S. Aug. 4. Conf. c. 9 Io. 6.37. jac. 1.17.  The gifts of God are without repentance; and God himself by his Prophet in these words: I am God, and am not changed; & consequently that which S. Augustin saith to God, is true: No man loseth thee, but he that leaveth thee. God therefore never rejecteth them that seek him; he never casteth them forth, that come unto him, as himself professeth; and heaven and earth shall first pass away, before any change or shadow of vicissituted come upon him. Seeing therefore there can be no danger on this side, all the danger is in ourselves and our own infirmity.  
13. But yet because no body is i'll for nothing, and there is hardly any to be found so malicious as to delight in sin, because it is sin, but that some other cause draws him into it; let us see, what cause there may be to disjoint and break this league of society and friendship so inviolably and religiously sworn betwixt God and us. In humane friendship many things of this nature may happen; for in time we may discover some flaw in the league itself, or some wrong may be offered, or one party may be damnifyed in his state, or we may think we have enough of it, 
His friendship cannot be prejudicial or tedious. Sap. 8.16.  as oftimes it falleth out. Nothing of all this can be said of God; for we cannot fear, lest the continuance of our love with him be prejudicial unto us, seeing we have all that we have, of him, and he most bountifully makes us partakers of all that is his. Neither can we fear, lest his conversation grow tedious, seeing we find written of the Eternal Wisdom: Entering into my house I will rest with it; for the conversation with it, hath no bitterness; nor the living together with it, any tediousness, but joy and gladness. And therefore that also is true, which the same Wisdom reporteth of itself: 
Eccl. 14.19.  They that eat me, shall still hunger; and they that drink me, shall still thirst. So that by enjoying God, we shall be so far from having our desire of him quailed at any time, as rather it will be daily more inflamed, the more degrees of his infinite beauty and goodness we shall daily discover, and the better and clearer insight we shall have into him. And if, while we were as yet in the world, a small ray of that beauty, which is in Religion, shining upon us in that darkness, was so powerful as to bring us unto him, as it were, out of a far country, and to draw us with such a violence as was able to break through all the snares the Devil had to hold us back; what will not the sunne-light and excellency of Religion do, when we shall have had leisure to enter more into it, and by the knowledge and possession of so great a good, be more taken and enamoured with it. And if it were able to force us to love it and embrace it, while we were free and unconstant, how much more will it hold us in love of it, when we shall be obliged and bound unto it with that triple cord, which is hardly broken.  

Austerity 〈◊〉 to be feared.  14. What ground therefore can we imagine, that we can have, to alter from our purpose, with so great loss and shame to ourselves? Shall we alter in regard of the rigour and austerity of that kind of life? Wherefore then have we spoken so much of the commodities of it (which alone were sufficient) and of the sweetness beside and pleasure which is in it? Rather seeing we are naturally so much taken with pleasure, & follow so greedily the bare shadow of it in the idle toys, which the world doth thew us, we have no cause to fear, but that meeting with the very fountain of pleasure, which is God, we shall stick the faster by it, and drink with more contentment of it. For our part therefore, we have no cause, why we should ever repent ourselves of a thing, which hath been invented and commended unto us by God, so carefully practised by so many holy men, so earnestly desired and embraced by ourselves, and found by our own experience to be much more beneficial and delightful, than we could either hope or imagine.  
15. What is it then that we fear? the secret undermine, or open assaults of the Devil? 
Nor the temptat●ons of the 〈◊〉  But of them also much hath been said before, to show that we must wholly contemn them, considering the many helps which we have to overcome them as the State itself, in which we live as in a Castle; the custody of the holy Angels, the care and watchful eye of God to defend us; and infinite other things, which of themselves are powerful and strong helps; but much more the Grace of God diffused in our hearts by the holy-ghost, which is given us, and which doth so clothe us with virtue and strength from above, that if inconstancy come upon us, it settleth us; if we be weak and feeble, it strengtheneth us; if we faint and languish, it puts life into us; and taking us as it were out of the hands of the thieves (which are the Devils) half alive, and placing us in the humble, but wholesome stable of Religion, it cureth us with wine and oil. The wine (as the sharper of the two) is Religious discipline, and the incommodities which are incident unto it; but this wine is allayed with oil, that is, with an admirable kind of sweetness, which gives a pleasant taste to all the incommodities which are in it. And therefore though we bring to Religion a nature cut, and mangled and weakened with many wounds and sores, we have no reason notwithstanding to misdoubt our perseverance, having so many gentle, but yet efficacious medicines of the Grace of God, to cure it.  
16. But all acknowledge, 
The grace of God is given freely.  that the grace of God is powerful, and it cannot be denied; yet some still fear, least through their own fault and offences they make themselves unworthy of this grace, and so losing it and forsaken by it, they fall into their ancient errors. But they that lodge this fear in their breasts, and in regard of it for bear to put themselves into the service of God, are far wide of the mark, and know not indeed, what Grace is, which is therefore called Grace, because it is given freely, and not for any desert of ours. And we shall not need to look so far back as to the example of S. Paul, who was a persecutor, or of S. Matthew, who was a publican, or of S. Marie Magdalen, who was a sinner, to justify it, seeing we have proof and example clear enough of it in ourselves. For if when we were yet enemies, when we fed hogs in far countries, when we wandered like the lost sheep, God of his own good will sought us out, followed us when we were flying from him, compelled us when we strived against him, expected us when we sought delays and held back, and in the end brought us home upon his shoulders; what will he not do for us now we live in his house, and in his service?  
17. Let us compare one time with another, 
His goodness towards us while we lived in the world.  and that state we were in, with that in which now we are; then living in extreme darkness, there was no goodness at all in us, all was sin, all was earthly, all tending to the service of this world, our thoughts, our words, our deeds, all bending that ways, we lived in perpetual forgetfulness of God, in lose carelessness of all heavenly things. But now we spend all our days in the practice of virtue, in the service of God, in the denial of ourselves; and though we offend sometimes, our faults are but small and venial, and easily overmatched and covered with the abundance of the good deeds which we do. If therefore the goodness of God were so great towards us in that first state, that our ancient deformity could not hinder him from taking us out of that mire, and placing us in his arms and bosom; now that we are washed (though perhaps our feet need still some washing) will he shake us off & cast us out of his arms again? He that dealt so lovingly by strangers, yea by his enemies, as to adopt us his children, & take us into his house; now we are his children, & have done him so much service, & lived so many years in his house, will he thrust us out, and cashier us from among the rest of his children, among whom he had ranked us? O absurd suspicion, & fear unworthy of such a father, unworthy of children that have been so nobly brought up! How much better & more truly doth S. Bernard judge of this love of God towards Religious people, 
S. Ber p. 109.  expressing himself in these words? He, He, I say, gathereth you together, that loveth you as his own bowels, as the most precious fruit of his Cross, as a most worthy compensation of the blood which he shed. He saith, that Religious people are the fruit and worthy recompense of the Passion of Christ, because the virtue thereof is chiefly seen in them, and because, though no other fruit had come of it, this alone had been enough for the Son of God, to think all his labour and sufferings well bestowed. Wherefore if no merchant be so mad, as to cast away the jewels which he hath bought at an excessive rate, when he may keep them; what shall we think of him, that fears, lest God cast us off upon the sudden, whom he hath bought with the precious blood of his only Son, and enriched with such inestimable gifts and treasures?  

The difference betwixt a servant & a son.  18. Besides, we must consider the difference, which is betwixt a servant and a son. If a servant offend, or become unprofitable, he is put away, because he is a servant, and, as our Saviour saith, remaineth not in house for ever; but though a son be sick, and able to do nothing, yea though he offend and displease his father, he shall be corrected with therod, 
Io. 8.35.  perhaps with a stick, and yet they will be rather a comfort to him (as the Prophet speaketh) than an affliction, 
Psal. 22.4.  but it is not the fashion to banish him out of his father's sight; it cannot sink into the hart of a father to do so, the love wherewith he entertained him in his house with music, 
Lu● 5.25.  when he returned from a far country, will not suffer him to use such rigour, much less thrust him out of doors.  

God 〈◊〉 a loving dis●position.  19 If we were to deal with a man like ourselves, we should do him wrong, if we should think him so uncivil and froward, as to fal-out with us upon every flight occasion, and never be friends with us any more. How much greater wrong therefore shall we do to the infinite goodness of God, if we take him to be of so harsh a disposition, notwithstanding that we see before our eyes daily, 
Sap 11.24.  how he bears with an infinite number of most grievous sins, and dissembles their offences, because of repentance. Rather as we are confident of our own brother, or of our father, or of any man, that we know doth entirely love us, or (why should we speak of others?) as if perseverance in virtue & Religion were in our own power, our hart would be at rest & ease; so must it be now it is in the hand and power of God; and so much the more, the greater we know his love is towards us, loving us more than we love ourselves, and desiring with so much affection our eternal welfare and perfection, as the Apostle saith of him: His with your sanctification. 
  
20. What therefore is our duty to do: That which S. Augustin did, when he found himself in the like fearful humour, lest he should not have strength and courage enough to go through with that new course of life, 
We must follow the example of S. Augustin.  which he was then resolving upon. For he writeth of himself, that he heard as it were a voice speak within him: Cast thyself upon him; fear not; he w●l not withdraw himself, that thou mayst fall; Cast thyself securely; he will receive and cure thee. For if no man was ever so barbarously hard-hearted and cruel (so he were a man) as to withdraw himself, and suffer another man to be dashed and hurt against the ground, 
S Aug. l. 8. Cons. ●. 11.  if he see that in his fall from some high place he is willing to save himself in his arms rather the more trust and confidence a man puts in us, committing himself and his life into our hands, with this hope, he obligeth us the more not to forsake him, or suffer him to perish for want of any thing, that we can do for him. If therefore the nature of man even among those, that are none of the civilest, go against such barbarous proceeding; who can suspect any such thing of that bottomless pit of clemency and goodness, that he will forsake us, having relied ourselves wholly upon his goodness, and prudence, and undoubted promises?  
21. Finally we must consider, 
God is constant in the works of nature.  that whereas the works of God perteyne partly to Nature, and partly to Grace; no man ever had the least fear, least in his natural works he should break the uniform order and constant course of his Divine beneficence. No man ever doubted, lest the Sun should not rise every day, and with the usual proportion, according to the times of the year, give light to the earth; or that it would not rain according to the seasons, so that the fruits of the earth should fail: we plough, we sow, we plant, we prune our trees and vines, as if we were assured of all those things; which notwithstanding if they should fail, all our labour and charges were quite lost. We make great vaults and conduits to convey the water to many mills with excessive cost and expense; which all were in vain, if the head of the fountain should decay; but it is so certain, that it will not decay, that no man ever spared cost for that reason. If therefore it never comes into our thought, to misdoubt these natural things, why should we not in spiritual things hope, that the fountain of the Grace of Heaven will continually flow? And if it were foolish for a man to forbear to sow his ground, or plant trees, or follow any such kind of work upon such a kind of idle fear, how much more foolish is it to omit our spiritual work, and such a work as is the undertaking of a Religious course of life, for the like fear, lest forsooth the Sun leave shining upon us at noonday, or the fountain of Divine grace dry away in the midst of the current of it? Yet some body will say: We see diverse fall; 
The fall of someoughe not to dismay us. S Io. Chry. con. vit. vitae 〈◊〉 c. ●.  who knows whether I shall at last be one of them? S. John Chrysostome propoundeth this very doubt in his Apology for a Monastical life; where arguing against parents, that hinder their children from embracing Religious courses, he bringeth them making this objection: How shall I know that my son shall persever, and never fall from his purpose? for many have fallen. To which S. john Chrysostome, and I answer: How dost thou know, that he shall not persever? for many have persevered; yea many more, then have fallen; so that we have more cause to trust in regard of them, then to distrust in regard of these. And then he convinceth them by that, which they do themselves; for they send their children to school, & are at charges with them, & yet few come to be eminent in learning, because it depends of many things, whereas in Religion a man needs not any great wit or strength of body to persever, & to arrive to perfection, but willingness and endeavour; and concludeth thus: How unreasonable therefore and unworthy is it, to run into fear and despair, where for the most part there be manifest tokens of certain hope and salvation at hand; and where there is less hope, & subject to so many impediments, there not to despair, but rather to be greatly and certainly in hope of a thing, which is most difficult?  
22. And this which S. john Chrysostome saith of learning▪ is of force in all states & employments in the world; 
Worldlie chances do not d●nt us.  for people cease not to traffic, because many in traffic have become bankrupt; neither do they forbear to go to sea, because many have perished by shipwreck, nor they leave not the wars, though infinite perish in them, some with one kind of death, some with another. And yet every one of these kinds of life are daily subject to so many dangers & hazards, that we have much more reason to fear misfortunes, then to hope that we shall go prosperously through with them, especially considering, that no human wisdom or forecast is able to prevent all mischances. But in Religion these accidents happen seldom, & to very few, in comparison of the rest, and by moderate care & diligence they may be prevented & eschewed; & are always prevented, if we be as we ought, & have but a will to use those helps, which the state itself affordeth us. Wherefore let us hearken to S. Gregory, who like a master-workman very handsomely cuts off this temptation with the knife of Reason, and the authority of the holy Scripture. Another, saith he, setting the desires of the flesh at naught, is thinking to forsake all, and to betake himself to the service of Almighty God; he purposeth to cu●he himself with the raynes and bridle of Continency & Chastity: 
S. Greg. hom. 3. ●● Ezech.  but seeing others that have fallen even after Chastity, he is afraid to do that which he hath a mind to do, and turneth back in his thoughts, when looking before him, he was with the steps of his mind even now mounting on high. Of whom Solomon saith well: He that observeth the wind, doth not sow; and he that considereth the clouds, shall never reap. By the wind we understand the malignant spirit, that blows upon our mind with temptation; by ●he clouds we understand a sinner, that is carried away by the violence of temptation. He therefore that observeth the wind, doth not sow, & he that considereth then clouds▪ never reapeth, because he that feareth the temptations of the malignant spirit, and considering the falls of the wicked. despaireth of himself, doth neither in present exercise himself in the seed of good works, nor shall hereafter be refreshed by reward of just recompense. Thus saith S. Gregory.  
23. The sum therefore of this whole discourse is this: If the resolution of following a Religious course were to come of ourselves, or if it were so to come of God, 
S. Peter upon the 〈…〉  that it were necessary we should deserve it, we had reason doubtless to fear our own frailty & inconstancy. But seeing it comes so from God, that on our part it requireth no desert, but giveth us all the desert we have; as the grace of God from the beginning worketh it in us, so it always ever after worketh it, preserving us. We have an excellent example of it in S. Peter the Apostle, when invited by our Saviour, he walked upon the water, and was held up above it by his holy hand, 
Mat●●. ●.  when for fear he began to sink. This doth lively represent unto us a Religious state. For as it is a great miracle for this heavy and lumpish body of ours to walk upon the water, so it is no less a miracle, when our corrupted nature (which of itself is always bearing downwards to earthly things, to the works of the flesh, to liberty and licentiousness) by the virtues of Poverty, Chastity and Obedience breaketh through all these wicked inclinations, & walketh above them, as a body above the water. And consequently we cannot bring this to pass by our own natural strength, but by the power of God; and it is the effect of his voice, when he saith unto us: Come; as he said to S. Peter, & by it giveth us the like admirable power, as he gave to him, & as long as the force of this voice lasteth, so long we remain with this power, & perform it with the selfsame facility & agility as we did at first. How comes the virtue of this voice to decay sometimes in us, & to grow faint? By Diffidence, as it happened to Peter, when letting our thoughts run more upon the winds & the waves, that is, upon the difficulties & temptations which sometimes rush-in upon us, then upon the grace of God & the virtue thereof, we begin to fear ourselves, and by fearing sink. Yet if sometimes through frailty we chance thus to stagger, we have at hand a present remedy and refuge, to wit, God himself, who stretching forth his hand will instantly hold us up, 
Ph. ● 2. 1●. 1. Cor. 1. b.  and stay us, &, as the Apostle saith: He that gave us to w●l, will give us also to accomplish and confirm us to the end, without crime, in the day of the coming of our Lord JESUS CHRIST.   

Against the temptation of delaying our entrance into Religion. CHAP. XXXIII.  
AS in war it is the fashion of the weaker side to be ask truce; & in every troublesome thing that cannot be wholly avoided, 
divers pretences of delay.  we labour at least, that it be differred as much as may be; so it is one of the devil's cunning tricks among the rest, when he cannot wholly remove people from their resolution of entering into Religion, to pretend diverse causes, why they should delay their entrance. To some he lays before them their tender years, as not ripe yet for the yoke of Christ; others he persuades, that they must take longer time of deliberation, ask advice of their friends, have some trial of their strength, some experience by the practice of good works before hand, that so they may prepare their way for greater & harder matters. Let us see therefore, what force & reasons these pretences have.  
2. And to speak first of age; It is so far from being true, that a man's youth is not a fit age for the service of God, 
A man's youth the first time to begin to serve God. Throne 3.27. S Thomas opus. contr. r●●r. a r●g. c. 3.  that it is the fittest time of all others to serve him. Which the Prophet telleth us, when he saith: It is good for a man, when he shall have carried the yoke from his youth; & insinuateth what commodities come of it: He shall s● (saith he) solitary, and hold his peace; because he hath lifted himself above himself. The meaning of which words, as S. Thomas interpreteth, is, that they take the yoke of Religion upon them in their youth, lift themselves with much more ease & to better effect, above their nature & natural inclinations, & lead a most quiet life, free from all worldly cares & troubles; and strengtheneth this his explication with the authority of S. Anselm, who likeneth those, that are brought up in Monasteries from their childhood, 
S. Anselm.  to Angels; and those that enter in elder years, to men.  
3. The commodities of entering in our youth are these. First, youth being naturally unprovident, and by reason of our weakness pliable, as wax, to whatsoever vice, if we pass our youth in the world, amidst so many snares and occasions of sin, 
Diuer● commodious by entering into Religion in our youth. Youth ap●●r to learn.  how easy is it for us to entangle ourselves in many errors, which will afterwards hinder us from taking a course of virtue and salvation? or if at last we resolve upon such a course, will as so many wounds make us run the slower & the weaker in the spiritual course we shall undertake? Whereas on the other side, if we consecreate the flower of our youth and life to God, we shall find the quite contrary, and prevent those dangers and misfortunes.  
4. Secondly, youth is aptest to receive good impressions, & is most disciplinable, while the mind is yet empty, &, like a piece of white paper, fit to receive whatsoever a body will write in it; or like a young tree, which a man may bend & lead which way he wil And we see it evidently, for example, in most beasts, as in horses and dogs, and some kinds of birds; if we teach them while they are young, we find by experience that they are apt to take, every one according to their several kind; but if we let that time pass, they grow so stubborn, that we can never bring them to any thing. It is true, that all times with man are in season for virtue; but if we speak of a facility and a kind of nimbleness in it, we find it certainly fair greater in that tender age before a man be hardened in vice and vanity.  

 5. Thirdly, that which we learn in our youth sticks faster by us, and can very hardly ever be b●tted out. So saith S. Hierome in one of his Epistles: It is hard to ra●● 〈…〉 an unwrought mind hath drunk in; a new earthen vessel keepe● along 〈◊〉, the sa● 〈◊〉 I●●nel, with which first it is seasone●. Aristotle also conceives, that it doth much import what custom a man takes in his youth, and saith, that all in a manner lies in that. And in another place he saith: The first things do ever take possession of a man's mind, and prejudicate it, and therefore he ordereth that in a Commonwealth well governed, all obseene things be put aside from children, that they may not so much as see the picture of any such thing, nor a Comedy or Tragedy. Which care can never be had of them in the world, nor can it be expected or hoped for; but in Religion it is constantly and most certainly observed.  

 6 Finally, it is no final commodity, that in younger years a man's mind is lively & full of vigour, it is not divided, nor distracted with businesses or affections of several natures so that if we apply it wholly at that time to God, and bend our spirits, before they be tainted, to heaven lie things, our progress in virtue must needs be the greater, and our course the swifter. Which the gravest of the Heathen Philosophers expresseth excellently in these words: As that which as first poured out of a vessel, as always the clearest, the beauty and muddy staff sticks to the bottom: so in our years, that which is best, is first; shall we suffer that rather to vent itself among others, and keep the lees to ourselves? Let this stick fast in our mind, & let us esteem it as spoken from an Oracle: The best day of the age of each mortal wight, flies first abroad. Why the best? Because that which remaineth, is uncertain. Why the best? Because, while we are young, we may learn, 
Sene●a Epi●●. 110 V●r● in 3. G●●●g.  we may apply your mind to that which is best, while it is yet pliable and tractable; because the time of our youth, is fittest for labour, fittest for the whetting of our wits in learning, 〈◊〉 est for corporal exercises in all kind of works; that which is behind, is more dull, more feeble, nearer to a●end. Thus Seneca.  
7. All which commodities we may see evidently expressed in a heavenly Vision, which Humber●us (a famous man, 
A vision of 〈◊〉 point.  & General of the dominicans) was wont to recount of a certain Religious man, that after his decease appeared in the nighttime to one of his fellow-brethrens, compassed with a great light; and leading him out of his Celle showed him a long rank of men clad all in white, shining wonderful bright; & they carried most beautiful Crosses upon their shoulders, marching all towards heaven. Soon after, there followed another rank far more comely to behold & more glorious, and every one of them carried a dainty Cross, not upon their shoulders, but in their hand. After them again appeared a third rank more beautiful & more gallant than the other two, & their Crosses also surpassed the others by far, both in workmanship and comeliness, & they did not carry them themselves, but every one had an Angel marching before him, & carried his Cross for him; & they followed cheerfully, & as it were playing. The man being astonished, & musing much at this sight, his companion that had appeared unto him, told him, that they of the first rank were Religious people, that had entered in their old age; the second were such as had entered at man's estate; the third and last, whom he saw so lightsome and cheerful, were they that entered into Religion in their youth.  
8. And as this, 
 which we have said, ought greatly to encourage and comf●● people of younger years, so they that are men already grown, ought not to be dismayed. First because, as the common saying is, It is better to turn back, though with some difficulty, than still to run on in an error. Secondly, if we will speak of facility & ease, they that are elder in years, want not their comforts also, and their helps and furtherances towards the levelling and the taking down of the ruggedness of the way they walk in, & towards the sweetening of their sorrows & troubles; of which kind of comforts and the plenty of them, I have spoken at large in this third book. And we cannot also deny, but it often faileth out, that though S. john, 
joan 20.6.  as the younger, run before, more speedily then S. Peter, yet Peter the elder entereth first into the monument, 
Matth. 20.10.  that is, comes first to perfect Mortification, & perfect similitude with our Saviour Christ. And the workmen, that were called at the sixth and Ninth hour, though they wrought but one hour, receive the same reward with them that were hired early in the m●rning. For it is never too late to return to God; rather it is always time, and we are always welcome, at whatsoever hour we come to him, who always expecteth us, always knocketh at our door, always embraceth and entertaineth those, that come unto him, with joy.  
9 But it is time we say something of the other pretences, 
All delay is 〈◊〉.  which the Divelis want to sow, as cockle, upon the good seed, which God cast into our mind; either to choke it up, if he can possibly, or at least to hinder the growth of it. And briefly to answer all these temptations in one word; there is one excellent remedy for them all, to wit, throughly to persuade ourselves and acknowledge as a certain truth, that whatsoever delay we make in so profitable so wholesome, so important a thing, and subject to so many deceits and cousenages of the Enemy, is not only to no purpose, but infinitely dangerous. This is the reason, why all holy men, knowing too well, how many wicked snares lie hidden under these deceitful deliberations, 
S. Hier●m● Fpist 105. S. Chrysom. hom. 57 ad pop. An●●h.  cry unto us with one voice, with one consent, to break off all delays, and not to differre it by any means. Make haste, I beseech thee (saith S. Hierome) and seeing thy ship stick in the suds, cut the rope in sunder rather than untie it. S. john Chrysostome in one of his Homilies to the people, having set forth to admiration the beauty and chiefly the pleasure, that is in a Religious life, concludeth thus: Perhaps many of you now are warm at hart, and burn with a great desire of so beautiful a conversation. But what doth it benefit you, is while you are here, you have this fire; & as soon as you go out, you quench i●, & the flame & beat vanisheth away? What remedy? While thy love is yet 〈◊〉, got presently to those Angels, & there inflame it more. Do not say: I will first speak with my friends, 
Matt. 8.12  I will dispatch my businesses. This delay is a beginning of shrinking away. The Disciple would have buried his father; and Christ would not let him. Wherefore? because the Devil is at hand eager to insinuate himself into our mind, & if he get but a small respite or prorogation, he bringeth us to great coldness. Therefore one doth advise us: Differre not from day to day.  

S. Aug ●. Conf. c. 5.  10. We may learn of what opinion S. Augustin was in this business, by that which he saith of himself, bewailing his own dulness & lingering fashion, when it was past, in these words: I had not what to answer thee, when thou saidst unto me: Rise thou that steepest; and R●se from the dead, and Christ will enlighten thee. And showing me on every side, that thou saidst true, I had not any thing at all to answer, being convinced by the truth, but words only slow and sleepy: Now, and Behold now; let me alone a little. But Now & Now had never enough; 
Idem ca 6.  and Let me alone a little, grew to great length of time. And as here he acknowledgeth his own fault in seeking so many delays, so he highly commendeth the two brethren, that upon reading the Life of S. Anthony were so hot upon imitating him, that at the selfsame instant, and in the selfsame place, when they had read it, 
Idem 〈◊〉 59 ●● verb. D●m.  they consecrated themselves to the service of God. And upon the same groundsels-where he exhorteth all in this manner: Behold the Giver of mercy openeth the ga●e unto thee. What dost thou stay for? Thou shouldst be glad, if he should open unto thee at any time upon thy knocking. Thou didst not knock, & he openeth, 
Prou. ●. ●●.  & dost thou remain still without? O differre not. The holy Scripture saith in a certain place of the works of mercy: Do not say, go and come again, tomorrow I w●l give, when thou canst presently do well; for thou knowest not what may happen the day following. Thou hast heard the commandment of net differing to be merciful towards another, & art thou cruel towards thyself by delays? Give alms to thy own soul. We do not say, thou shouldst give it any thing, but do not put aside the hand of him that giveth.  

S. Ans●lme Epis●. ●●  11. S. Anselm also saith excellently well to the same purpose in one of his Epistles: Make haste to so great a good, because thou canst not by any other good more effectually come to the Sovereign Good. I have seen many that have promised, & then differred, whom death so prevented, that they could neither dispatch that in which they had engaged themselves, nor begin that for which they had passed their promise. And again: He that differreth till the time to come, & perhaps till the time, that will never come, to reform his life, leaveth undoubtedly a certain good and contemning that which he loseth, he showeth that he loveth not that which he expecteth, and deserveth not to have it.  

S 〈…〉 & 10. 2●2 〈…〉 del●●beration in thi●, not t● be commended.  ●2. The judgement of S. Thomas in this point (being so great a Divine as he was) is not a little to be regarded. He therefore both in one of his Opuscles, & in his Sum of Divinity proposing this question (whether long deliberation upon this counsel be commendable?) proveth that which we are saying, by many weighty reasons, that we must obey God in it out of hand, and diligently put in execution that which he speaketh unto us. Though what do we stand picking reasons here and there out of Authors, seeing we have the authority of the Gospel for us? 
Mat. 4 26.  We see Peter and Andrew, so soon as they were called by our Lord, presently obeyed his calling, forsaking their nets and their boat. The like we read of james and john, and in a more difficult and weighty occasion, of S. Matthew; who, besides the general obligations of brethren and kinsfolk, set light (as S. Chrys●stome observeth) by all the human dangers, which might have befallen him from the Princes of the land, leaving their service before he had castup and made even his accounts.  
13. But nothing doth more evidently confirm that which we are saying, then that whereas he that was invited by our Lord to the Apostleship, 
Matth 8.22.  did not refuse it, but craved respite, for a pious end, to bury his father; the Divine Wisdom notwithstanding answered him: Follow me, & leave the dead to burn their dead. Which S. john Chrysostom expoundeth in this manner: 
S. ●o. Chrys. ho. 27 in Matth.  This he said not bidding us to neglect the love of our parents, but showing, that nothing must seem more necessary, than the businesses of heaven, though the rubs which are cast in our way, seem great, necessary, and insuperable. This therefore is that which all must think and do, that hear the voice of our Lord calling, inviting, and perhaps drawing them. 
S. Tho. 1.2. q 68 art. 1. Arist 7. Mor. a● Eudem. c. ●●.  And S. Thomas to this purpose doth judiciously among other things apply and opinion of Aristotle's in his books of Morals, where putting this question: What it is in a soul, that first and principally moveth it? he answereth, that Reason first moveth all other parts and powers of it, and that which moveth reason, is something better than reason; not knowledge or learning (for these are not better than it) but God, and a little after he addeth, that they whom God moveth, need not take further advise upon the business, because they are led by a better principle than either Reason or Counsel. 
S. Ber. s●r. Ecce●● When 〈◊〉 calleth 〈◊〉 needs to delib●●●●tion.  And S. Bernard rarely and eloquently saith thus: How many doth the accursed wisdom of the world supplant, and extinguish the spirit conceived in them, which our Lord would have vehemently enkindled? Do nothing, saith it, rashly; take time enough to consider of it, look more diligently into the business; the thing which thou goest about, is great, and needeth much deliberation: Try first, what thou shalt be able to do; advice with thy friends, lest after thou hast done, thou happen to repent it. This is the wisdom of the world, earthly, sensual, diabolical, an enemy to salvation, a choaker-up of life, mother of tepidity, which is wont to provoke God to vomit. It saith: look to thyself. And wherefore? what needs there any consultation, seeing thou makest no doubt but the word comes from God? The Angel of Great Counsel calleth, what dost thou wait for the counsels of others? who is more faithful, who more wise than he? Lead me, o Lord, and I shall be led; be thou more strong, and overcome. I know what those things are which ought to be done quickly. I am saved from the mouth of the pit of hell; and shall I seek respite, and hold back, and delay to be gone, if perhaps something may be effected in the mean time? I did hide fire in my bosom, and having burnt my side, and my very bowels lying naked, and the corruption running down, shall I stand deliberating, whether I shall awake, whether I shall shake it off, whether I shall cast it from me? A great matter in very deed is offered me; so much therefore the more willingly, and the more speedily is it to be admitted of, and embraced with open arms, with fervour and joy. Let him prove himself, that confideth in his own strength; for the strength of God is already sufficiently proved. Let him advise with his friends, that hath not read: The enemies of man, are his domesticals. Why doth he, that obeyeth not the Gospel, 
Mat. 10. ●●  use the Gospel so often? For there certainly we read, that to one that promised to follow our Lord, but desired first to bury his dead father, it was answered by our Lord, 
Matt 8.22.  that he should suffer the dead to bury their dead; and to another that asked only, that he might bid them farewel, that were at home, he said: No man putting his hand to the plough and looking back, is apt for the kingdom of heaven. All this of S. Bernard.  

divers inconveniences of delay.  14. Moreover, the better to break with the delays, which the Devil puts in our head, we shall do well to think, first, that (as S. Thomas adviseth) seeing all the treasures of wisdom and knowledge of God are hidden in Christ, we offer him wrong, when having had his counsel, we go afterwards to take the advice of any mortal man. Secondly, that though there were no other harm likely to befall us, the very delaying a business of so great weight, is a great harm and hindrance unto us; for it bereaveth us of the use and benefit of so many good things as are in Religion; a loss which can never be repaired; for, so many days, yea so many hours, as this demurring taketh up, so much gains and profit doth it take from us; because in Religion no day, no hour passeth without excessive gains. Thirdly, we run hazard of inconstancy; and as we are all mutable, frail, infirm, we put ourselves in danger of yielding in the mean time, either to the importunate solicitations of the Devil, or the flattering shows of the world, or to our own flesh, that still repineth and laboureth to slip the collar. A ship out of the harbour, is always in danger, and aught to desire nothing more, then speedily to put into the haven.  

Delays in other things are hateful.  15. How speedily do we desire, that all other businesses should be dispatched, even those that are of greatest weight and consequence, though they bring a heavy obligation upon us for term of life? Who doth admit of so many delays, if he pretend for a Bishopric or other promotion, or if he be to marry? and yet who knows not, what a heavy burden the one is, and how full the other is of troubles and inconveniences? In Religion we tie ourselves to God, and know that his nature is gentle, affable, loving, liberal in his gui●●s, patient in bearing our imperfections. When we many, we tie ourselves to a woman; a woman, I say, of as frail a nature at least as ourselves, in sex inferior, most commonly inclinable to many vices, to anger, pride, headlongnes, prattling, and some yet greater; and it is a wonder if we light not upon such a one. The yoke of Religion hath been long tried before by as many as are, or ever were Religious. What therefore shall we need to fear passing at such a foard, where such an infinite company have passed before us with happy success?  

Death may prevent us. S. Aug. ser. 16 de verb. Dom.  16. And finally, we must remember, how death continually hangeth over our head, and the many chances that may bring us untimely unto it; of which S. Augustin speaketh thus: Who hath promised thee to morrow? Where thou readest, that if thou reform thyself, thou shalt have pardon; read me, if thou canst, how long thou shalt live. Therefore thou knowest not, how long it will be. Reform thyself, and be always ready. Wherefore differrest thou till to morrow? 
S Ber. Ep. 9  And S. Bernard in an Epistle to certain Novices of his, commendeth them highly, because they were so forward to put their purpose of Religion in execution. The Cross of Christ, saith he, will not any more appear empty in you, as in many sons of distrust, who delaying from day to day to be converted unto our Lord, taken away by unexpected death, in a moment descend to hell.  
17. These are the points, 
Delay is but a cloak for our unwillingness.  which they that by the instinct of God are called out of the boisterous waves of this world to the quiet haven of Religion, ought seriously to consider. For what is the drift of this pretence of taking advice, or making some trial of ourselves, but a colour and shadow to cloak and hide the snares which the Devil lays for us, and the secret love of the world, which we are loath openly to acknowledge, to the end we may be long in leaving that, which we leave unwillingly? which is scarce credible, how dangerous a thing it is; for nothing is more easy, then at last never to forsake that, which we are so loath to part with. And they that do so willingly accept of delays, let them give ear to S. Bernard, a man of no mean understanding and experience in these things. Let them hearken to what he saith to one Romanus a Subdeacon of the Court of Rome, and make account, that he speaketh to themselves: Why dost thou delay to bring forth the spirit of salvation, 
S. Bernard Ep. 105.  which thou hast so long ago conceived? Among men, nothing is more certain than death, nothing more uncertain than the hour of death; for it will come like a thief in the night. Woe to them that shall be great with child in that day. If it come upon them, and prevent this wholesome childbirth, alas! it will break through the house, and extinguish the holy young imp. For when they shall say, Peace and security, then sudden ruin will come upon them, as the pains of a childbearing woman, and they shall not escape. O therefore make haste, get away, departed, let thy soul dye the death of the just, that thy latter things also may be like to theirs, O how precious in the sight of our Lord is the death of his Saints! 
Id. Ep 108.  Fly, I beseech thee, stand not in the way of sinners. How canst thou live, where thou darest not dye? And again the same S. Bernard writing to another, that had asked a year's respite to make an end of his studies, speaketh thus unto him: I beseech thee, lay thy hand upon thy hart, and reflect that the term of thy year, which to the injury of God thou hast taken respite in, is not a year pleasing to God, nor to please him in, but a sour of discord, a feeder of anger, and a nourisher of Apostasy, a year to extinguish spirit, to shut out grace, to bring thee into that lukewarmness, which is wont to provoke God to vomit.   

Of a temptation rising from our Parents and Kindred. CHAP. XXXIV.  
BEHOLD an other engine which the Devil makes use of against a Religious vocation, grounded in the tender affection which every one bears naturally towards his kindred; which S. Hierome fitly termeth the Ram, 
S. Hierome ●p 1.  or a warlike instrument to batter down Piety and devotion; for it hath two parts, as it were two horns, wherewith it endeavoureth to shake and beat down this rampire of Salvation. The one is the natural love which they of whom we are borne, and they that are borne with us of the same Stock, do claim as it were by right. The other comprehendeth all the ways which Kindred is wont to use, to turn a man's resolution from so holy a purpose, by praying, by entreating, by tears, by argument, by laying load upon reasons concerning their house, and family, and twenty such other devices.  
2. Against this subtle and withal vehement and strong temptation of the Enemy (for both concur in this, 
Whatsoeu●● holds ●● from following God, must needs be temptation  which is seldom seen in others) it behoveth us to be armed, and first to be throughly possessed, and to hold it as an infallible Maxim, that when once we are assured, that it is the will of God that calleth us to Religion, what way soever we come to be assured of it, whatsoever afterwards offers itself unto us to divert us, or draw us from that vocation, cannot come but from the Devil. Wherefore whatsoever our parents, friends, or kinsfolk, or any body else (for it is alone who they be) say or do in this kind, we must give them the hearing, and make account of all, as coming out of his shop, that layeth wait for all; but as a cunning thief, is there most watchful and diligent, where the booty is greater, 
H●●b. 1.16.  and of whom it is written: His food is the elect. For oftimes whom he hath not been able by himself to conquer, he hath conquered by these kind of smother instruments, as making their way more easily into our breasts. And it is an ancient device of the Devil, which fell too well out with him in our first father Adam. 
S August. ep. 38.  For what importeth it (as S. Augustin speaketh to this very point) whether in a wife, or in a mother, so that Eve be she that we must beware-of in every woman? For this shadow of piety comes from the leaves of that tree, with which our forefathers did first cover their nakedness out of a most damnable piety. Climacus therefore is in the right, 
Clim. grad ●. It is better to contristate parents than Christ  when he saith: It is better to contristate our parents, then to contristate our Saviour JESUS. He created us, he redeemed us; they by their love have often been the destruction of their beloved. The love of God, and the holy desire of him, extinguisheth in a soul the carnal love of parents: but he that imagineth that both these loves can be shutup together in one hart, deceiveth himself. Let not the tears of thy kindred move thee, lest thou bring upon thyself everlasting tears, while thy parents and kinsfolk compass thee round like bees, or rat●●e● like wasps, weeping and lamenting, that so thou mayst overcome grief with grief. Thus saith Climacus.  
3. Yet because they, that are ignorant and unlearned, plead in this case the law of Nature, and the commandment of God, willing us to honour our parents, let us see, what force this their argument hath. And first, we must suppose as a principle of Divinity, 
Exod. 20. Parents not to be obeyed i● this case. S Th' 2●. q. 104. a. vl●.  in which all agree, that in this kind of business we owe no obedience at all to our Parents; and Divines give three reasons of it. The first we may take out of S. Thomas, where he saith, in that which belongs to the nature of the body, all men are equal among themselves; a servant is not inferior to his master, nor a child to his parent, meaning, for example of corporal necessities, generation, and the like; from whence he concludes, that no man can in reason be compelled either to marry, or to live a single life, for other men's, or his own father's pleasure And Aristotle deduceth the same out of the grounds of nature; for having disputed at large the obligation which children have towards their parents, 
Arist 9 Eth. c. 2.  in the end he putteth this question: whether in all occasions they must so live in obedience to them, as it can never be lawful for them to depart from it? and answereth, that they are not bound in al. For if a child be sick, he must obey the Physician rather than his Father, in that which concerns his health; and in like manner, the General of the field, in that which belongs to the laws of arms.  
4. If any body allege the commandment of the Law, 
This is not contrary to the commandment.  willing us to honour our Parents; we answer as S. Augustin did to the Heretic Adaman●us, who grew to that height of impiety, that he was not ashamed to slander the Gospel, as if it were contrary to the Old Law in this point. For he answereth, that we must both honour our parents, and yet without any impiety may contemn them, 
S. Aug. cont. Adamant. c. 8.  to preach the Kingdom of heaven, because we must honour them in their rank and degree; but when that honour stands in competency with the love of God, specially if Parents hinder that love, than we must neglect it and shake it off.  
5. A second reason is, 
The power of Parents is as of a deputy.  because the power which parents have over their children, being a participation of the authority which God hath over them, from whom, as the Apostle speaketh, all paternity is derived, it is but as the power of a deputy or delegate. Wherefore if God command one thing, and a Parent an other, 
Eph. 3. 1●.  who can make any question, but the power and jurisdiction of a parent ceaseth, because it is contrary to the will of him that gave that power? For it is as if a King should place a Steward of his household, or a Governor in a town, and that Officer should command one thing, and the King t●e contrary, by obeying the King's Officer, a man should be a rebel and disloyal to the King. Upon which ground S. Bernard in the Epistle which he put his hand to, for one Helias a Monk of his Monastery, to his parents, saith thus: The only cause, 
S. Bernard Ep 111.  why it may not be lawful to obey our parents, is God. For he saith: Who loveth father or mother more than me, is not worthy of me. But if as good and virtuous parents you love me, if you carry towards your son a faithful piety, 
Mat 10.37.  wherefore do you disquiet me, when I seek to please the Father of all, who is God? why do you labour to withdraw me from the service of him, whom to serve, is to reign? Truly now I know that the enemie● of man are his domesticals. 
Mat. 10.36  In this I ought not to obey you; in this I acknowledge you not to be my parents, but my enemies.  

In comparison of God, it is little which we have from parents.  6. A third reason is, because if we cast our accounts right, and summe-up all duties and the heads of them, which we owe to our parents, we shall find, that in comparison of God, we have received little or nothing from them. For whereas Man is a compound of soul and body, parents have no hand at all in bestowing our soul upon us, which is notwithstanding the best part of us, and in a manner all in al. For our soul is wholly created by God, and neither man nor Angel can possibly come near the effecting of it, by all the power they have. As for our body, if they had the whole framing of it alone, yet we should not owe them much more, then if they had bestowed a garment upon us, or some kind of instrument to work with, or a vessel to hold something in; for these are the services which the body doth for the soul, and truly not much more; rather in many things it hindereth it, it troubleth it, it dulleth it; so that it hath not all that belongs to a perfect instrument, in the functions for which a soul needs it. Wherefore, as I said, though our parents had been the sole framers and givers of our body, what were it? But indeed how little of the body itself do our parents give us ' For if a man should spit upon the ground, and God should presently of that spittle frame an image or some other thing, who should be said to be author of that image? God, or he that by chance spit upon the ground? For in like manner, God useth the unfashioned matter which falls from man, to fashion a body out of it: He frameth it, he order it, he makes the sinews of one part of it, the bones, the blood, and the rest of the members, of another: and man is so far from having any hand in it, that he knows not how, nor whether any such thing be done at all; as we see evidently, because oftimes when they most desire children, they are farthest from having them. 
S. Aug. in Ps. 70. con. 2.  Which S. Augustin expresseth pleasantly in these words: While men beget, God createth. For if thou createst, tell me what thy wife shall bring forth? and why do I say: tell me thou? let her tell me, that knoweth not what she goeth with.  

That which they give, is much more the gift of God.  7. Moreover that little which parents give of their own, they cannot absolutely by right call it their own, because they have it from God; and it is more God's then theirs. Holy job showeth, that he understood this very well to be so, where he attributeth the framing of his whole body, and every part of it, so wholly to God, as if man had no hand in it, but that it was wholly round about, as he speaketh, form by the hand and fi●gar of God. Hast thou not, saith he, stroked me like milk, 
job 10.8.  and curdled me as cheese? with bones and sinews thou hast joined me together, and thy visitation hath preserved my spirit. And an other Prophet: Thou art our father, and Abraham knew us not; as who should say: 
Es. 6●. 16.  what did Abraham give us, that we should owe him the name of a father? But our Lord and Saviour himself doth express it in the fittest and weightiest terms: Do not call to yourselves a father upon earth; for one is your Father, 
Mat. 23.9.  who is in heaven.  
8. And though parents were the authors and givers of all this, it reacheth no farther than this natural life, which scarce deserves the name of life; 
And but for this life, borne in sin. Ps. 50.  and if there were no other but it, were not to be called life but death. The grace of God is that which giveth us true life; and what hand had father or mother in giving us the grace of God? Did not our mother rather conceive us in sin, as the Prophet David complaineth, men condemned, before we were borne? Which seeing we can not deny, he alone is our father, of whom we have both our lives; him only we must thank for it, him only we must obey and hearken unto, as to our father. Which is the ground of the advice which S. Hierome gives to Furia, a noble Matron, in these words: Thy father will be sorry, but Christ will be glad. 
S. Hier. Ep. 10.  Thy family will lament, but the Angels will give thee the joy. Let thy father do what he will, with his goods. Thou are not his, whose thou art by generation, but whose thou art by regeneration; his, who redeemed thee at a dear rate, with his own blood. And it is not only lawful, but fitting, that every Religious man say to his parents that, 
S. Bernard Ep 111.  which Helias (whom we mentioned before out of S. Bernard) said to his, that were against him: What have I from you but sin and misery? I acknowledge and confess, that I have this corruptible body from you, which I carry with me, and this alone; can you not be contended, that yourselves being miserable, you have brought me a miserable wretch into this misery of the world? that being sinners, you have begot me in sin a sinner? that as I was borne in sin, you have bred me up also in sin? but envying me also the mercy which I have obtained of him, that will not the death of a sinner, you will make me over and above the son of hell and perdition.  
9 If we turn these things seriously in our mind, we shall easily master that tenderness of affection, which is so natural towards flesh and blood, whensoever it shall stand betwixt us and so great a good; but much more, if we duly consider that rigorous saying of our Saviour: 
Mat. 10.37.  He that loveth father, or mother, more than me, is not worthy of me. Which, if we believe S. Bernard, is to be understood thus, 
S B●rn● s●r. 20 in Cant.  that to love our kindred more than Christ, is for our kindred sake not to fulfil that which Christ, when he was in flesh, taught us both by word and example. 
Christ and our parents calling us several ways, who is to be obeyed?  And it is not without great reason, that the infinite goodness of God passeth so severe a doom upon this fault. For we must imagine, as if there were two that did call upon us both at once, Christ on the one side, our parents on the other: both of them lay before us, what they have deserved at our hands, but their cause is far unequal. That which God hath bestowed upon us, is infinitely of greater value, then that which our parents have given us, besides that they had it of God to give us, and so it falls out to be more truly indeed the gift of God. Both of them therefore invite us: God promiseth heavenly things, things of inestimable weight, things that are most assured; they proffer earthly things only, which indeed are of no value, neither is it in their power to give them us when they wil God, though he should promise us nothing else but himself, is himself beauty, goodness, happiness, honour, & worth itself, and of himself a large reward for all the pains we can bestow. Wherefore, when we turn our backs to God, when we prefer the will of an other before his will, we do him infinite wrong. And what doom, what punishment doth he deserve, that is not ashamed, that is not afraid to prefer a mortal man before God immortal, darkness before light, dirt and ashes before heaven? A punishment doubtless then which there is none greater, a punishment most just and most suitable to the fault committed: He is not worthy of me. Nothing can fall more heavy upon man then to be rejected as unworthy of the company of his God, no punishment be more just, then that he should be rejected, seeing he had so little respect, as to prefer a creature before his Creator, specially being invited by him, and God offering himself so lovingly unto him.  

S. gregory's judgement in this case.  10. Let us see therefore, what S. Gregory prescribeth for the care of this so prejudicial an affection, and the evils, which, according as he declareth, rise of it. There be many, saith he, that do not only not covet other men's goods, 
S. Greg. 7. mor. c. 14.  but forsake also whatsoever they possessed in the world; they contemn themselves, they seek not after the glory of this present life, they keep themselves off from these affections, and tread under foot almost all the prosperity that smileth upon them. And notwithstanding entangled yet in the bond of carnal affinity, while they yield indiscreetly to the love of their kindred, oftimes they return through affection to their alliance, to the things which they had overcome even with contempt of themselves. And while they love their carnal friends more than needs, drawn to outward things, they become divided from the parent of their hart. What do those therefore but walk in a net, having been loosened from this present world by the perfection of life which they had begun, 
job. 18 8.  but entangled again in it by the inordinate love of earthly consanguinity? This is the reason, why Truth itself saith: If any one come to me, 
●uc. 14.16  and do not hate his father, and mother, and wife, and children, and brethren, and sisters, and moreover his own life, he cannot be my disciple. In which saying when after the hatred of our kindred he inferreth the hatred of our own life, he evidently showeth, that we are commanded to hate our kindred, as we are to hate ourselves; that drawing them to eternal things, and neglecting their carnal favour, when it hindereth us, we may learn to love them with the art and temper of discretion, as it is fitting, and wholesomely to hate them, to the end hatred may learn so to rise by love, that we may more truly love them by hating them. For this cause it is said by Moses: He that shall say to his father and to his mother, I know you not, and to his brethren, I am not acquainted with you, 
D●ut 3●. ●.  and have not known their children; these have kept thy speech, and thy covenant, and observed thy judgements. For he coveteth to be more familiarly acquainted with God, who for the love of piety desires not to know those, with whom he was before carnally acquainted. For the knowledge of God is to our great prejudice much diminished, if it be divided by carnal acquaintance. A man must therefore sever himself from his kindred and alliance, if he will be truly united with the Father of all; to the end that whom he courageously neglecteth for God, he may love them the more solidly, the more he is unacquainted with the soluble affection of carnal conjunction. All this is out of S. Gregory, and much more to the like effect, concluding in the end, that though this natural affection tempts us and press us hard sometimes, it is notwithstanding to be kept down, and the way of virtue not to be forsaken for it. And to express it, bringeth a similitude out of holy Scripture of the two Cows, which drew the wain, in which the Ark of God was carried home; 
1. Reg. 6.12.  for they lowed after their calves which were shut up at home from them, and yet went on, declining neither on the right hand nor on the left. So, saith he, it is necessary, that they march, who having put their neck under the yoke of the holy Law, carry ●ow the Ar●● of God by internal knowledge; condo●ing the necessities of their kindred, and yet not declining from the way of uprightness which they have begun.  
11. We must needs grant, that all this is both truly and excellently well spoken by S. gregory; yet because the temptation is violent and dangerous, 〈◊〉 we see that many run hazard in it, and some also sometimes do ●al, let us 〈◊〉 some more quick admonitions concerning it, not of our own, but of such a● 〈◊〉 as have been both admirably eloquent, and are to this day venerable for sanctity and authority in the whole Church of God. S. Hierome shall be foremost, who in his Epistle to Heliodorus hath this weighty saying: 
An 〈◊〉 ort●tion of S. Hie●ome S Higher ●p.. 1  Harken to the proclamation which thy King doth make: He tha● is not with me, is against me: and he that gathereth not with me, scattereth. Remember the day of thy imolmert, when buried with Christ in Baptism, thou tookest thy oath in the Sacrament, that thou wouldst not spa●e father, nor mother, for his name. Behold the enemy laboureth to kill Christ in thy breast. Behold the camp of thy adversary sigheth after the pay which thou receivedst, when thou were pressed. Though thy little nephew hang about thy neck, though thy mother with her hair lose about her ears, and tearing her clothes, show thee her breasts at which she nursed thee, though thy father lay himself down upon the threshold, pass by them, treading on thy father, with dry eyes, escape to the standard of the Crosse. It is the only kind of piety, to be in this cruel. There will come, there will come hereafter a day, when thou shalt return conqueror into thy country, when thou shalt enter the heavenly Jerusalem crowned like a man that hath been valiant. I know well enough with what kind of fetters thou wilt say thou art hindered. I have not a breast of iron, nor a hart that is hardened. I also have passed by these things. Now thy forlorn sister hangeth upon thee with her tender arms; now thy home borne servants with whom thou hast been br●d till this day, say unto thee: To whom dost thou now leave us to serve? Now she that was thy nurse, loaden with years, and thy foster-father next in natural piety to thy own father, cryeth: To whom dost thou leave us now, we are ready to dye? The love of Christ, the fear of hell fire doth easily break these irons. But the Scripture on the other side commandeth us to obey our parents. But again whosoever loveth them above Christ ●ee●●th his own soul. My enemy holdeth his sword at me to kill me, and shall I think of my mother's tears? Shall I forsake the warre-fare of Christ for my father, whom for Christ I owe not so much as the burial, which I owe unto every body for Christ? 
Mat. 16.25.  Peter by his fearful manner of advising, was a scandal to our Lord when he was to suffer. Paul answered his Brethren, that withheld him from going up to Jerusalem▪ 
Act. ●1. 13.  What make ye weeping, and troubling my hart? For I am ready not only to be bound, but to dye in Jerusalem for the name of our Lord I●SVS CHRIST▪ This warlike ●a●une of piety, by which Faith is shaken, must be deadened with the rampire of the Gospel: 
Mat. 12 50.  These are my mother and my brethren, Whosoever do the will of my Father who is in heaven. If they believe Christ, let them be on my side, when I am to fight for Christ; If they believe him not, let the dead bury their dead. judiciously spoken by S. Hierome, and specially in that he concludeth, that they that believe in Christ will always be ready to favour any body, that is going to the service of Christ: and consequently they that do not only not favour such a business, but hinder it, and divert and stay people by all the devices they can from it, what followeth, but that they do not believe at all, or scarce believe in him?  

S. Aug. ep. 38.  12. Let us hear, how S. Augustin with no less eloquence, and with equal weight of reason doth press his friend Laetus to the contempt of the world. For af●er a long discourse he saith thus: Let not parents be angry that our Lord commandeth us to hate them, 
S. Augustin's discourse.  seeing the like is commanded us of our own life; for a● here it is commanded of our life, that we hate it with our parents, for Christ, so that which the same our Lord saith in an other place, of our life, may fitly also agree to parents. 
Io, 12.25.  Who loveth, saith he, his life, shall lose it. For I will also boldly say: Who loveth his parents, shall lose them. Behold the desire of the knowledge of truth, and of learning the will of God in the holy Scriptures, hath seized thy hart; the office of preaching the Gospel doth draw thee. Our Lord beareth up the dru●●e to the end we should watch in the camp; to the end we should build a tower, from which we may overlook▪ and chase away the enemy of life everlasting The heavenly trumpet calleth the soldier of Christ into the field; and ●hal a mother stay him? And what doth she say, what doth she allege? Perhaps the ten months, in which thou didst burden her womb, and the pains of child birth, and the labour of bringing thee up. Kill with this wholesome word, kill and destroy the fair speeches of thy mother, that thou mayst find her in life everlasting. Remember that thou hate this in her, if thou lovest her, if thou be a young soldier of Christ, if thou hast laid the foundation of the tower; for this is but a carnal affection, and soundeth yet of the old man. The service of Christ exhorteth us to kill this carnal affection in ourselves and in our kindred: and yet not so, that any body ought to be ungrateful towards his parents, and scorn the benefits, by which he was borne into this life, and bred up and maintained, when they are reckoned up unto him: Let him observe rather piety every where. These take place, where greater things call us not away. The Church our Mother, is mother also to our mother. The Church conceived us of Christ; she was in labour with us in the blood of Martyrs she brought us forth into everlasting light; she nursed us with the milk of faith, and doth still maintain us, preparing more solid food for us, and trembleth to see that you will be yet crying ●●ke littleones w●●hout teeth. This mother spread throughout the whole world, is molested with so many several annoyances of errors, that her children, now abortives, stick not to wage cruel war against her. By the recklessness also and sluggishness of some that she holds in her bosom, she grieves to feel her ●immes grow cold in many places, & to be less fit to cherish her little ones. Fron whence therefore shall the look for such help as is due and reasonable, but from other children, from other members of hers, of which number thou ar● one? Wilt thou therefore turn to carnal words, forsaking her necessities? doth not her complaint sound more lamentably in thy ears? doth not she show thee bowels that are more dear, breasts that are heavenly? Thus speaketh S. Augustin, are much more to the same effect, which whosoever desireth to read, may find in him.  
13. We will pass to S. Bernard, 
S. Bernard's admonition S Bernard epist. 104.  as copious and eloquent as the former two, upon the like subject. For thus he writeth to one Gualterus a famous learned man. What shall I answer thee to this? that thou leave thy mother? it seems to be unnatural, that thou stay still with her? but neither is this good for her, that she should be the destruction of her own son. Perhaps, that thou serve the world, & Christ also? But no man can serve two masters. Thy mother desires that which is contrary to thine, & consequently to her own salvation. Choose therefore which thou wilt of the two either to stand for the will of one, or for the salvation of both. But if thou love her dear, forsake her rather, lest if thou forsake christ to stay with her, she also perish for thee; otherwise she that brought thee forth, hath deserved little at thy hands, if she perish for thy sake; doth she not perish for thy sake, if she kill him whom she brought forth? And th●s I say to condescend in some measure & to have some respect to thy carnal affection. But it is a faithful speech, and worthy of all acceptance, that though it be impious to contemn thy mother, yet to contemn her for Christ, is an act of greatest piety. For he that saith: Honour thy father and mother; he also said: Who loveth father or mother more than me, is not worthy of me. And thus much out of the ancient Fathers.  
14. But no exhortation can be of more force, nor more worthy to be harkened unto, 
The example of our Saviour.  than the example of our Saviour Christ, who though he had so worthy a mother, would notwithstanding remain three days without her in Jerusalem, to execute that wh●ch was his Father's. This was a preamble to that which afterward he did in elder years, when he left to dwell and converse with her, that he might wholly give himself to the seeking of men's salvation; wherein when once he was employed, and word was brought him, that his mother was without, expecting, he answered: 
Matt. 12. john. 20.  Which is my mother, and who are my brethren? Finally, which is most considerable of all the rest, he chose to suffer death before her face; to teach us by all these passages of his life, that we must not for respect to our carnal kindred, forgo the study of virtue and perfection.  
15. And how forcible this his example ought to be with all, hath been particularly declared unto us, by that which happened to one Albertus, a young man borne in ●ermanie, of noble extraction, for he was son to the Count of Falkenburg & allied to the King of France; and being sent unto him, to be brought up at Paris with the sons of that King, he chose rather he heavenly warfare, and caused himself to be enrolled into the Order of S. Dominick, which was then in a manner newly begun, about the year of our Lord One thousand two hundred & thirty. When this news was brought to his father, though he were now an ancient man, he could not contain himself, but came instantly post to Paris with a great retinue, & used all the endeavours and all the art he could, to ●●ake this resolution of his son (for he was his only son) but all in vain, the love of God having hardened the hart of the young man against all carnal love, and all he ●ayre promises and allotements his father could invent. But 〈◊〉 was not an end; for he had yet a stronger combat with one Theodorick a cousin German of his, who pierced with grief upon this accident, used all means possible to weaken the purpose of his young cofen, by tears, by entreaties, by argument, by putting him in mind of his mother's love and grief, telling him that she was now either dead, or upon the point of death for sorrow. It happened that they were ●itting right before an Image of our Saviour Crucified, his mother standing on the one side, and S. john on the other. Albert therefore fixing his eyes upon that picture, and pointing at it with his fingar, spoke thus to Theodorick: Behold Cousin, the Son of God, when he saw his mother and his cousin German, both of them so dear unto him as you know they were, pierced with the sword of grief, would not yet come down from the Cross, though he could easily have done so but to his own and their excessive torment remained in it till death. Wherefore, I also will never forgo this Cross of a Religious life to which I have climbed, though I should see both my mother whom you tell me of, and you my Cousin german to fall down dead at my feet: Rather, Cousin, come you also upon this Cross with me, and make off the snares and fetters of this world, in which you stand entangled with such infinite danger. What happened? This servant speech of the young man struck so deep, that Theodorick resolved presently to forsake the world, and entered into the same Order of S. Dominick, the whole city standing amazed at it, so much the more, because he was wonderfully given before to the humours of this world, and all kind of vanity.  

S. Anto. p. 3. hist. Tit. 24 c. 9 §. 7.  16. That which S. Antonine relateth in this kind is no less admirable. In the same city of Paris, a famous Doctor entered into the Order of S. Francis. His mo●her, that was a very poor woman and in no small want, among other good offices which the had done him, had maintained him at his book by the labour of her hands. She therefore with many tears, and much crying-out, began to lament her loss, and the misery she was brought unto by the entrance o● her son into Religion, 
An other example.  and stuck not to tax her son, and all the Fathers of that Order, as people that dealt unnaturally, and very unjustly with her. Her son being troubled with these her clamours, began to s●agger in his resolution; and praying before a Crucifix, and as it were ask leave that he might go out again to relieve his mother, he saw as it were the blood springing out of our saviour's side, and withal heard this voice: I maintained thee at a dearer rate than thy mo●h●r; wherefore thou must not forsake me for thy mother. Wherewith astonished, and withal strengthened, he quite stopped his ears to all the entreat and complaints his mother could ever after make.   

Against them that hinder their children or kinsfolk from Religion CHAP. XXXV.  
HItherto we have done our best endeavour to encourage them that are called to a Religious course of life, and to put hart into them to withstand the importunity of their kindred. It remaineth that we say something, whereby parents and kinsfolk on the other side, may be kept off from using such importunity. For so, as in a battle, the one army being weakened, 
The fight against God.  and the other reinforced, the victory will be the more allu●ed. And what can any man say more forcible to keep them off, then that wittingly, or unwittingly they fight in very deed against God himself; a war both impious, and that which must needs follow, fatal to themselves? For without all doubt to impugn the counsel of God, to destroy that which he doth build, to scatter that abroad which he doth gather, to cut off the soldiers which he doth mu●ter under his Colours, is nothing else, but to join in league with the Devil, and to wage war against God; which, as I said, is both an enormous offence, and to them that are so bold as to attempt it, infinitely prejudicial. And accordingly God doth very often show, how highly he is displeased with this sin, by strange and most evident punishments.  
2. Pontianus bondslave to a cruel barbarous master as S. Gregory of Tours recounteth, inflamed with the love of God, 
And are severely punished. Greg. T●r. de vita Pont. c. 5.  fled into a Monastery. His master redemanded him with wonderful importunity, & he could not be denied, because he challenged that which was his own, but suddenly he was strucken blind; and acknowledging the hand of God in it, was marvellously sorry for his fault, and easily gave his consent, that though the man was his slave, he might remain where he was in the service of God; yet notwithstanding received not his sight again, till Pontianus had laid his hands upon him, that the cause of his blindness might be the more apparent: 
S. Thom 2.2. q. ult. art. 6.  And yet, as I said, the man required but that which was just and reasonable. For as S. Thomas and Divines agree, a slave cannot be taken from his service without his master's consent; yea though he make his profession in Religion, it is void and of no force, how soever inviolable that bond of vow is in other cases. If therefore God were so much offended, for the redemanding of a slave, and showed his anger by so grievous a punishment, have we not reason to think he will be much more offended, if a man hinder his kinsman, or his brother, or a father his own child from Religion, having, for as much as concerns this point, no power at all over him?  
3. S. Ambrose, 
S. Ambr. l. 1. de V●●gin.  so worthy an author, relateth of a young Gentlewoman (that was then yet living when he wrote the relation) noble, as he saith, in the world, but much more noble in God, that flying to the Altar, out of the desire she had to live a Religious life, her kindred were much against it, and pressed her to the contrary, offering her a great marriage, and promising mountains of wealth and worldly commodities; but she remained constant and unmoveable. Whereupon one of them more bold them the rest, spoke ru●●ly unto her in this manner Wha●● if thy father were now living, dost thou think he would suffer thee to live unmarried? Perhaps, saith she, he therefore died, that he might not hinder me. And not long after, this man died, and every one was so fully persuaded, that he was taken away for this his importunity, that the rest fearing what might happen to themselves, began to farther her in her request, though before they had laboured so much against it.  
4. But that which S. Hierome recounteth in his Epistle to ●aeta, is yet more terrible; 
S. Hier. epist. ad La●a.  and these are his very words: Praetexta●a, in her time a noble Matron, by commandment of her husband Hymetius, who was vncl●●y the father's side to the Virgin Eustochium, changed her apparel, and wearing, and kembed after the fashion of the world her hair, which she had neglected, cou●ting to overcome both the resolution of the Virgin, and the desire of the mother. And behold the same night she sees in her sleep an Angel, that came unto her, threatening with a terrible voice to punish her, and breaking forth into these words: Were thou so bold as to prefer the commandment of thy husband before Christ? How dared thou handle the head of the virgin of God with thy sacrilegious hands? which even now shall wither, that thus tormented thou mayst feel what thou hast done, and the fifth month being ended thou shalt be carried to hell. And if thou persever in thy wicked fact, thou shalt be bereaved both of thy husband and of thy children. All this in order, as it was told her, was fulfilled, and speedy death signed and sealed the late repentance of the miserable woman. So doth Christ revenge the profaners of his temple; so doth he defend his jewels and precious ornaments. This is the relation of S. Hierome.  
5. And we might bring many like examples of later years; but what can we bring more substantial to our purpose then this which we have said, or out of a more substantial author? Wherefore it cannot be denied, but this kind of sin hath been always almost revenged by God with present and grievous punishments. So that we see the saying of the Apostle fulfilled also in this: If any one violate the Temple of God, God will destroy him. For if this be true of a temple of stone, 
●. Cor. 3.17.  dedicated to his Divine Majesty, how much more true will it be in a devout Soul, which is a Temple far more holy and more dear to God? Wherefore if parents be so eager upon this business, because they love their children▪ and think it hard to want them, they must consider that they cannot do their children, whom they love so dear, more harm in any thing▪ and consequently that it is not love but hatred; and if they do it for their own comfort and solace in this life, they have just cause to fear, first lest they offend God, and secondly lest they sail of that comfort and benefit which they seek.  

How grievous an offence 〈◊〉 to h●nder people from Religion. S. Ansel ep. ad God●f. Luc. 11 23. S. john Chrys●st l 3. contra untap. vita Mon E●●d. 11. Deut. 22.  6. And we shall not greatly wonder, that God doth so severely punish this offence, if we consider the grievousness of it, which S. Anselm layeth open before us in one of his Epistles in these words: If he that separateth the precious from the base, that is, a soul from the world, be as the mouth of God: ●e, whose mouth and hand draweth out a soul, that adhereth to God, to the world, what shall he be? Shall not that fall upon him: which our Lord saith: He that gathereth not with me, scatte●eth: and he that is not with me, is against me? And S. Chrysostom laying load upon this offence, reckoneth how many degrees of malice this one sin containeth. The first degree of malice against our neighbour, saith he, is to neglect the beast or ca●tle of our enemy, if they chance to stray, or fall into the mire; and this carelessness was forbidden by the law of God. The second, not to relieve our enemies themselves, if they be in want. The third, to contemn our neighbour, if ●e be a stranger. The fourth, to contemn those that are of our acquaintance. The fifth, to neglect not the bodies only, but the souls of our Brethren that are perishing. The sixth, to neglect our children that are in distress. The seaventh, neither to look after them ourselves, not to get others to do it. The eight, to hinder them that offer themselves to help them. The ninth, not only to hinder them, but voluntarily to oppose their salvation. Behold to what height of malice and cruelty in S. john Chrysostom's opinion, this preposterous love of parents doth bring them, that thinking to do their children a pleasure, they become parricides, and commit so much the more barbarous murder upon them, as the life of the soul is better than the life of the body. 
S. Bernard epist. 111.  Against which cruelty S. Bernard doth deservedly exclaim in this manner: O hard-hearted father, o cruel mother, o barbarous & impious parents, yea not parents but peremptory mankillers, whose sorrows are the safety of their children; whose comfort, their destruction; who had rather I should perish with them, then reign without them. o strange abuse! The house is on fire, the flame ring my back; and when I am flying, I am forbidden to go out; when I am escaping away, they persuade me to return. And they persuade me that remain in the fire, and out of obstinate madness, and mad obstinacy, will not shun the danger. O fury! fie upon it. If you slight your own death, why do you desire mine? If, I say, you care not for your own salvation, what availeth it you to persecute mine? why do not you rather follow me that am flying, that you may not burn? doth it ease your pain, if you kill me with you? and is this your only fear, lest you perish alone What comfort can he that burneth, afford them that burn? What comfort, I say, is it to the damned, to have fellows of their damnation? or what remedy is it for them that die, to see other dying?  
7. Parents therefore, 
The example of the mother of the Maccabees.  to the end that by opposing the wholesome counsels of th●ir children, they may not fall into these mischiefs which S. Bernard layeth before us (and that which I say of parents, all friends, and kinsfolk, and all others must take as spoken to themselves) let them duly weigh these considerations and arm themselves with them, as also by the heroical examples of such as have not only courageously borne the loss of their children, 
2. Matth 7.  but rejoiced in it for the love of God. Let them set before their eyes first that noble mother of the Macchabees, which in one hour lost not one or two, but seven sons; and did not lose them so as they still remained alive, though separated from her, as in Religion, but saw them torn in pieces before her eyes, and taken from her by most barbarous torments. And yet what said she, what manner of exhortation did she use unto them? She exhorted every one of them, as the Scripture speaketh, stoutly, in her countrey-language, filled with wisdom, and instilling manly courage to her wom●nish thought, said unto them: I know not how you appeared in my womb, and as followeth, all full of noble advertisements.  
8. S. Felicitas in the New Testament patterned her virtue; 
S. Felicitas. S. Greg. hom 〈…〉 T●●n other of S. 〈…〉 S Basil 〈…〉 40. Mar.  and as S. Gregory discourseth, having as many sons as the other, She did fear in leave them behind her in flesh, as much as carn●● parents are wont to fear, lest by death they should send them before them. And the mo●her of Mel●thon may be ranked with them; for he being one of the forty Martyrs, and the youngest among them, in the prime of his youth, she seeing ●im lie w●●h his thighs broken in pieces and yet alive, exhorted him to constancy; & moreover when the rest were catted away, she took him up upon her shoulders, & following the cat, put him with his companions when he was dead.  
9 What shall I say of Abr●ham, 
Abraham G●●●s. ●2.  who did not, as these women not hinder the putting to death of his son by the hand of another, but upon the commandment of God did not stick with his own hands to put his son to death, and the son which was all the hope he had of posterity? This is a resolution which beseems a faithful man, specially a Christian: This is constancy required in the Gospel, to desire rather that our children obey God then ourselves; not, as we see now the fashion is, to divert them, and by all the craft and devices possible to pervert them, when they are going, not to death, but to life, and to a far more pleasant life, and to think they have done a great exploit, if by what means soever they can, they overthrow a man's resolution, that is aspiring to Religious perfection.  

Anna samuel's mother. 1. Reg. 1.  10. Anna Mother to Samuel did not so, but after many years of sterility having received a son, offered him glad and joyful in the Temple when he was but three years old. And God did not suffer himself to be overcome by her in liberality, but for one son gave her many, as it were the interest-money of that one which she had lent him.  

Paula. S. Hierome. ep. 27.  10. Paula that famous Roman Matron, was in the light of the Gospel not inferior unto her. S Hierome doth highly extol her, because the desire which she had to see her country was only to the end the might see her son, her daughter in law, her grandchild that had renounced the world, to serve Christ, which in part the obtained. 
The mother of S. Bonaventure  Such also was (as we read) the mother of S. Bonaventure; for she vowed him to ●h● Order of S. Fran●●s when he was yet but an infant, and he fulfilling that vow o● hers, became so great a man as we know he was. The l●ke happened to S. Andrew Bishop of Fie●ols, 
S. Andrew Bishop.  a very holy man: for his parents having no children, had made a vow that if God would send them a son, they would offer him to the Order of the Carm●lit-Friars; and they had this Andrew; but when he came to years, misled by the liberty and licentiousness of this world, he h●d quite other thoughts in his head, but that his mother, beyond her sex and the affections of a mother, won him by her counsel and earnest exhortations, to dedicate himself to God in the flower o● his youth.  
11. I mu●t confess there be but ●ew examples of this nature (men are so weak in this point) ●et those that are, are sufficient to move any man living: and particularly that which we read of S. Bernard's mother, 
S. Bernard's mother. Gu●● in vitae 〈…〉. l. 1. c. 3.  which also in reason ought to weigh the more with us, because the was dead, and in heaven, and could not be deceived in her judgement. It is recorded therefore, that when he began to think of leaving the world, and laboured withal to draw as many of his brothers and kinsfolk as he could to the same resolution, a younger brother of his called Andrew, of a fiery spirit, as young so●ldi●rs use to be, showed himself wonderful backward 〈…〉 altered upon a heavenly Vision, he cried out: I see my mother. For 〈…〉 mother, with a pleasing and cheerful countenance, giving her children the io● upon so wholesome a deliberation; and he was not alone that saw her 〈◊〉 S. Bernard also. And if she had been alive at that time she would have done no 〈◊〉, for they write of her that she was so devout a woman, that she did always presently offer her children to God in the Church, so soon as they were borne, and brought them up ever after as if she had not bred them for the world, but for Religion. And yet parents may learn by her, of what opinion they shall be in this matter after death, when they shall see plainly before their e●es the eternity of the life to come, and how quickly all things pass away in this world. How will they then lament and bewail themselves, if they have been the cause that a son of daughter of theirs hath fallen from so great a good into so great in seri●● 〈◊〉 them therefore do that now while they are hee●, which they would certainly do, if they were suffered, as fine was, to return from that life to give advice to their children, since they must as certainly believe the things of the other life, as 〈◊〉 they had seen them with their eyes.  
12. Finally, if they desire that we apply some kind of cure to themselves, to strengthen them on this opposition of the flesh against the spirit, 
Parents must consider that their children are mo●● God's than theirs.  they may consider these ●ew things following; First that when they offer one or two or more of their children to God, in truth they give him nothing of their own, but make restitution unto him of that which was his before. For as we advised children before, to the end to overcome the natural love to their parents, to think with themselves, how final a thing it is which they receive from them, so, to the end that parents also be not overcome with too much affection towards their children, and that they may with more ease and more cheerfully offer them to God, it behooveth them to remember, that they are not theirs, but God's, in a manner almost, as an image of stone, or wood, is not the grauing-iron's, nor a picture, the pen●●●s, but both the artificer's. So that when God redemandeth them, he useth his own right, and challengeth but his own; and whosoever will retain them, retaineth an other's goods. which is a kind of theft, 
S Greg. 4. regist apost 44.  or rather Sacrilege, because that which he takes, is from God. For that which S. Gregory saith, he takes ●s true; While unadvisedly we hold them back, that are making haste to the service of Almighty God, we are found to deny him something, who grants us all things.  
13. This is that which the mother of the Macchabees, whom we spoke of not long since, had before her e●es and made open profession of, when she encouraged herself and her children in these words: 
2. Math. 7.  I did not give you spirit, and soul, and life; nor did I knit toge●ther the limbs of every one of you; but the Creator of the world, who framed man's nativity, and found the beginning of all, and will restore unto you again spirit, with mercy, and life, as now you neglect your s●lues for his laws. And the same account all parents must make in the like occasion. For so they will find that they will lose nothing, by le●sing their children for the service of God. 
What would they do●, if their child should die.  For thus they must reason with themselves: What should I do, if this child of mine should be taken from me by sickness, or in the wars, or by some other accident of many, which the life of man is daily subject unto? Should I then also storm against God, by whose appointment all things hap●pen? How much better is it for him and me, that he live in the house of God, in service of so great a Prince?  
14. If it be the absence of their children that troubles them so much, 
Absence of children cannot in reason trouble them.  that they enjoy not ●he company of them, whom they love so dear, first this is too effeminate and too womanish a kind of love, not to be able to endure their absence, when it is so beneficial unto them. Secondly, how many be ●● ere, that upon diverse occasions never see their children in many years, either because they are marc●ant-venturers, or serve some where in the wa●●es, or bear office in the Commonwealth▪ and their parents are content they should be from th●m, preferring the benefit and commodity of their children, before their private comfort?  
14. Finally, 
They cannot provide better for their children. S john Chry. 〈…〉 vit. 〈◊〉  the admonitions which S. john Chrysostom gives upon this subject, are worthier to be considered, that seeing people do, and suffer, so many diverse things to 〈◊〉 great estates ●or their children, and to leave them rich, they cannot leave them better provided, nor more wealthy, then if they bring them up to Religion and true devotion, for these are the riches which s●ick by a man all his life time, and after he is dead, and put their possessors in safety and beyond all danger. Besides that, a man is then most master of his children, when he gives them to God; for God is better able to govern and order them, and will have greater care over them. Wherefore if we make account that when a Prince takes one of our children from us, and placeth him in some great office in the kingdom, it is a far greater advancement for him. then if he had been bred all the days of his life at home, and parents ordinarily do think themselves honoured by it, and are glad of it; much more when God calleth any of them to his service: And consequently parents ought to be very willing that any of their children may serve in so heavenly a service, 
The greatest preferment that can be, to serve God.  not bringing them up into the temple, as Anna did her Samuel, but as it were into heaven itself, there to be dedicated to the divine service with the Angels. For Religious people wait upon God with the Angels; in which respect also their parents themselves have greater honour and happiness by them, then if they had remained in the world. Thus saith S. john Chrisostome, and is certainly in the right.  
15. For if Christians have that Faith and light in them, which their name makes show of, they should not only not be sorry, but greatly rejoice both in their son's behalf, and their own, that God doth vouchsafe to do them so great a pleasure, as to take a child of theirs into his service, seeing to serve him, is to reign. For to seek no further, whereas the Egyptians anciently did worship a Crocodile for their God, if it had happened at any time, that any of their children was devoured by a Crocodile, they thought it a heinous offence, to shed so much as one tear for him, rather they made great signs of joy, and were wont to make it a Holiday, as if they had received in it a great benefit. In what blindness therefore is that Christian, that shall mourn if a child of his be called to the service of the true and living God, being called not to death, and so miserable a death, but to the happiest and pleasantest life that can be?  

S. Basil prefat. in As●●●.  16. Wherefore let us give ear to the wholesome and reasonable advice of S. Basil: Seing, saith he, so great rewards are offered them that follow the warfare of Christ, let fathers willingly permit their sons, and mothers their daughters, to come to him and bring their children cheerfully themselves unto him, and let them rejoice at the hope of immortal goods, whereof they shall be partakers together with their children, and endeavour to have them their patrons in the sight of God. Let us take heed, I beseech you, lest we sh●w ourselves to be too streight-harted in this unseasonable love of our children; and let not the labours fright us, to which they seem to go, but rather rejoice that they shall meet w●th so great glory Let us offer to God, that which we have received of him, that we also may have par● of the glory and commendation of our children, offering ourselves together with them. For they that proceed in this cheerful manner, 
Ps 115.15 Deut. ●●. second 70.  and persever thus constantly, may have that of the Psalm fitly said of them: Blessed are you of our Lord, who made heaven and earth; and may pray as Moses: Lord bless their works; break the pride of them, that have resisted them.   

An answer to them that say, they cannot know when it is a true vocation of God. CHAP. XXXVI.  
THere remaineth yet a question and doubt, not unlike to that which we find propounded in the Psalm: Many say who will show us good things? 
Psal. 4.6.  And we may answer with that which followeth in that very Psalm: The light of thy countenance, o ●ord, is signed upon us. For we shall meet with some, that while they are breeding these wholesome purposes of a Religious life, persuade themselves that they are inwardly so disposed in mind towards God, that if they knew certainly his blessed will, they would readily follow it; but they pretend, it doth no● clearly appear unto them, what his will is. And some indeed say so from their hart, others take it as a colour to shadow their imperfection; because in very truth it goes against the hair with them, to break with the world, 
The vocation of God is plain. Bern de Conuers. ad cler. and 2.  and forsake the pleasures thereof. Both must be informed, that the calling of God, is not so secret and hidden a thing, but rather plain and easy to be understood, whereof S. Bernard is witness, who saith thus: Most certainly the conversion of souls, is the work of the voice of God, and not of man; and there needs no great labour to come to hear this voice: It is rather a labour to stop thy ears that thou mayst not hear it. For this voice offereth itself unto us, it presseth-in upon us, and ceaseth not to knock at every man's door. For it is not only a voice of virtue, but a ray of light, showing men their sins, and together lightning the hidden things of darkness.  
2. Which testimony of S. Bernard, is seconded by plain and evident reason; because God calling us to the intent we should come unto him, his call were in vain, unless he called us so, as we might understand him. For what Master, doth ever give order to have a thing done by his servant, but he delivereth his mind so, that he may be understood by him? And they that teach in schools, their business being no other but to instruct and inform their scholars, must not only deliver such things as their scholars may be capable of, but also in the manner of their delivery, they most frame themselves to their conceit and abilities, and if need require, o●ten repeat the same things over and over again, & explicate that which may seem obscure unto them; and if they proceed not in this manner, it is a fault in them, which fault cannot be in God And though this be most certain, yet I will here set dow●●certain rules and directions, 〈◊〉 may lead us to the truth of this business without danger of mistaking, if 〈◊〉 declare, what errors and dangers are to be avoided in it.  

Rashly to run upon a settled course of life, is a great abuse.  3. First therefore, whereas the settling of a man's self in a course, which must last all the days of his life, is one of the greatest businesses, which a man hath in this world, and which needeth best advice, we see notwithstanding that commonly men carry themselves more carelessly and negligently in this, then in any other thing; though in any other business, if through negligence or ignorance the matter be mistaken, the loss reacheth no farther than that particular thing; whereas if we err in this, the whole course and frame of our life must needs hang awry, this being as it were the hinge upon which it must bear. And yet commonly men are so careless of this point, that they rush into what course of life soever comes next at hand by chance, or fall presently upon that which the least occasion or hope of commodity presents unto them. Some carried with the stream▪ of the world, take the way which seemeth to lead most directly to honour or wealth, persuading themselves that, that is best, because commonly people are so persuaded. Others taking example by their parents, and following the principles which they instil into them, take the same course, which they have done before them, and in that which they are borne, in that they continue all their life time; Which is all the reason which most men have, why they apply themselves, some to the Law, others to the study of Physic, others to serve at Court, or in the wars, or to traffic and marchand it; and to be short, there is so little choice made, or advise, and counsel taken in this business, that it is an usual thing among all sorts of men, to leap into that which is next, or which they take a fancy to, be it what it will, or which some chance, or accident or other hath cast upon them. Which rash and casual manner of proceeding makes that it is no wonder, to see most men repent themselves of the course of life which they have undertaken, or if they do not repent themselves, yet they fall into infinite errors by reason of it. Whereas if they would understand what reason is, 
The grounde● upon which we should settle out resolutions.  first when they come to years of discretion, or not long after, they should take leisure, to bethink themselves, and seriously to consider, what is the end of man for which he was created, to wit, for eternal glory, and how this glory is the thing which we must all seek after; and whereas the several courses and occupations of this life, are not only necessary for the upholding of this common wealth of the world, but are ways also to that eternal glory, for which we are made, every one must make choice and enter upon that w●●, which may best lead him to the final end of that eternal Beatitude, and may be most pleasing to our sovereign Lord and God, which is the chiefest thing we ought to a●me at, and indeed the upshot of al. For it is not the part of a servant, such as we all are, nor can it belong unto him, to enter upon what place or office in his master's house he will himself, but to take that which his master ordaineth for him. And this which every man ought to do when he first comes to years, and in that crossway, as I may say, at which he then arrives, if he have not done it then, and consequently have fallen into some error in the choice which he made of his course of life (if it be not such a state as matrimony, or some other which cannot be altered, by reason of the obligation annexed unto it) he must proceed, as in all other errors, rather to correct them, then to go further on in them: for it is better to be at some loss by going back again, and sit down with it, then by still going forwards in our former errors, be farther and farther from remedying them.  
4. Wherefore, 
Indifferency necessary before we choose.  to the end we may at first settle our estate as it ought, or afterwards take the right course in altering it, if any alteration be to be made in it, first we must bring ourselves to an Indifferency, and so quiet our mind, that we hang not more after one thing then after another, but desire merely to fulfil the will of God, what soever it be. For so it is the duty of a good servant to do, as I said before; and if he carry not himself in this manner, he cannot be said to seek the will of God, but his own. But whosoever doth this, shall quickly see the heaven's clear of all clouds, and receive the light from God, which he desireth. And this is a rule which Climacus also prescribeth in these words: In searching the will of God, 
Clim grad. 26.  we must needs dispose ourselves so, as all our own will cease, and lean on neither side; for when it shall be wholly purged of all self-affection, than it will be fit to receive the inspirations of God.  
5. Another rule is, that we must not in this business desire or expect Re●uelations or Miracles, 
We must not expect Miracles or Revelations.  or any extraordinary sign or token above the course of nature; because God having given us by nature an understanding and the light of Reason, which together with Faith and the Grace of God doth sufficiently show us, what is fitting for us to do for salvation, his pleasure is, that we make use of that light, and by it he speaketh and manifesteth unto us, what he will have us to do. Wherefore they mightily mistake themselves, who, when they advice upon these things, would have an Angel come to them from heaven, or at least require some such sign of the will of God, as may be altogether unquestionable. For we ought not to do thus, nor desire any thing beyond the ordinary custom and manner of proceeding of God with men. And the manner of proceeding of God is, that though he assist us with his light, it is the light of Faith, not of clear sight, and consequently there remaineth something that is obscure in it. And S. Ignatius, 
Revelations rather to be desired for to remain in the world.  the Father and Founder of our Order, was wont to say a thing which is both true and prudently observed by him, and worthy to be noted, that, if we were to ask signs of God, we should rather ask them and desire more evident signs of his will, to remain in the world, than 〈◊〉 embrace the Euangelical Counsels. For our Saviour himself hath evidently exhorted us to his Counsels, and on the other side laid before us as evidently the excessive dangers and difficulties which are in a secular state, and in wealth, and honour which the world is so greedy of; so that, if we will conclude righ●, revelations and extraordinary tokens of his will, are to be required rather, for a man to venture upon the world, then to enter into Religion.  
6. Moreover, 
Two kinds of vocations.  as our soul hath two powers; Will and understanding, so commonly there be two kinds of vocation; The one, when our will is inflamed with the love of a Religious life, and a man finds himself carried unto it without stop or stay, or making any question of it, but goes on with exceeding pleasure in thinking of it. The other, when our Understanding is enlightened, and therein we discover the vanity and dangers of this world, and see clearly on the other side the quiet, the safeness, the unualuable treasures of a Religious life, though perhaps our affection be somewhat dull, and not so ready to follow that which reason shows us. This second manner of vocation, to say the truth, is the better of the two; and more generally approved by those that are wise and experienced in these businesses, than the other which consists only in a servant motion of our will; for being grounded in the light of Reason and Faith, it is less subject to error, and more like to last; and as they also observe, more noble; because Reason and Understanding, is that wherein man differs from a beast, and excels all corporal creatures: Whereas the slowness and backwardness of our will may be holpen diverse ways, and many motives and incitements there are to quicken it, if we reflect upon them, and cast them seriously in our mind.  

A man may be truly called, though he find no violent motion.  7. By which also we may see, that they are likewise in an error, that think they are never called of God, unless they feel such extraordinary motions towards Religion in their minds, that they burn with desire of it, and find themselves carried towards it, without any trouble or difficulty. For the lu●●pish and earthly condition of our nature, will not suffer us to moun● so high, without labour and difficulty; and the Divine wisdom, is not wont to destroy nature, but to help it; nor to kill our enemies outright, that we may have no body to fight withal, but to give us grace and strength to overcome by fight, because this is a more beneficial for us many ways, and more wholesome.  

Particulars about our choice.  8. Agreed therefore, that we must use the discourse and judgement which God hath given us, thereby to find out his will; the way and means which directours of spirit, tell us we must take in it, is this: First, as I said, we must lay before us the end, for which we were created, which is but one, to wit, by loving and serving God, to come to everlasting happiness. Secondly, we must present to our consideration, all the courses of life which are sitting to be advised upon, and examine and search diligently into every one of them, what help, what inconvenience is in it, compared with the final end we aim at, and resolve upon that, which both in itself, and for us, is absolutely the best; as they that are to take a journey, choose the easiest, the shortest, and the most commodious ways. Thirdly, we must bear in mind, that most certainly the day will come when we shall die, and give a strict account to God of all our negotiations; and consequently in reason we must now do that, which then we would with we had done; and choose that, which then we would give any thing we had chosen; For what folly were it, in a business of such weight, to carry ourselves so, as we know we shall repent it at last in vain?  

Retirement necessary.  9 A third thing, which they that desire to know the will of God, and 〈…〉 to what he calleth them unto, must understand, is, that they m●st not t●i●k to come to the knowledge of it, in the midst of the vanities, and distractions, and multiplicities of business of the world. But let them withdraw themselves a little out of that noise, 
And a gen●●●l confession.  that they may have th●●●ares free, and hear what their Lord, their God, speaketh to them; and first of all, if there be no reason to the contrary, let them purge their soul by a general confession of all their sins, for that will be a great help for the light of God to come more freely into them, all clouds of darkness being dispersed. Then let them give themselves somewhat more then ordinarily to prayer and meditation, to raise their hearts from earthly, 
And prayer.  to heavenly things, and finally present themselves before the Throne of God, as a scholar before his Master, pliable, attentive, desirous of this heavenly doctrine. For what wonder is it, if we hear not the voice of God, 
S Bernard. epist. 107.  when our mind and soul is otherwise busied, and taken up with the cares, and delights, and love of earthly things buzzing continually in our cares. To which effect, S. Bernard writeth to o●e Thomas, that was in the like consultation about leaving the world: O dearly beloved, if thou prepare thy inward ear to the voice of God, sweeter than honey and the honiecombe, fly the cares which are without, that having thy inward senses free and vacant, thou also mayst say with Samuel: Speak, o Lord, because thy servant heareth. This voice doth not sound in the market place, it is not heard abroad. A private counsel, requireth private audience; it will certainly give joy to thy hearing, and gladness if thou hearken unto it with a indicious ear.  
10. And yet we must add one thing more, 
And a resolution to do that which God shall tell us.  to wit, that whosoever desireth this light, must not only, as S. Bernard adviseth, come near to God, but come with a mind resolved absolutely to do whatsoever God shall say unto h●m. For there be those that do not deal uprightly and sincerely with God, but desire of curiosity, to know his will, not to perform it, but to know it, and to be thought in some sort to have done their duty; but they are so far wide from being discharged of their duty by it, as they incur a greater fault, as a servant ●hat knoweth his master's will, and doth it not. And moreover this very thing, is a means that God doth not give them that light which he would, because he sees, that it will be in vain to give it them, 
Psal 110.10  and to their prejudice; which is that which we read in the Psalm: Good understanding to them that do it; because God gives a good understanding, to them that do, or are resolved to do, that which they understand, as S. Gregory 
S Greg hom. 23 in E●ag.  noteth in these words: He that will understand what he hath heard, let him hasten to fulfil by work, that which hitherto he hath been able to hear.  
10. A fourth thing, 
A motion to Religion cannot but be of God. S. Tho. open 17 c. 10.2.2. q. ult. ar. ult.  which we must bear in mind, and must needs be a great settling and comfort unto us, in this consultation, is, that every instinct which moves a man to a Religious course of life, cannot be, but of the holy-ghost. This is a position of S. Thomas, both in the book which he wrote against them, that withdraw people from Religion, and in the second part of his sum of Divinity, where he saith that he that cometh to Religion▪ cannot doubt, 
Psa. 142.10  but that he is moved thereunto by God, whose it is (as the Prophet speaketh) to lead into the right way, supposing he knows in his conscience, he hath no sinister end in it, 
1. Io. 4. 1●  but comes out of a desire of virtue, and of the service of God. Wherefore when the scripture saith unto us: Try the spirits if they be of God, it is to be understood of spirits, that be doubtful, & is to be practised by them, that have the charge of admitting others into Religion; for they not knowing with what mind and intention people offer themselves, do well to try their spirits. And he saith further, that if it should happen that Satan transfiguring himself into an Angel of l●got should move us to Religion, 
Those whom it doth belong to, to try spirits.  we have no cause to be afraid; first because as long as he suggesteth that, which is common for good Angels to put into our mind, there is no danger▪ for we are not forbidden to benefit ourselves by our enemy, specially when we know not that it is our enemy; secondly because though the Devil should move us to Religion, he alone could never move us so effectually, unless God did inwardly draw us; and concludeth, that a thought of entering into Religion ever comes from God, by what means soever it come into our mind.  
11. This is the doctrine of S. Thomas, and that his only authority may not carry it, we may confirm it by reason; because, as Cassian writeth, whereas our thoughts rise from three heads or fountains, 
Cass. coll. 1. c. 19 Three spirits that may move ●●.  to wi●, either from a good spirit, or from an evil spirit, or from our own spirit; We may easily understand, that thoughts of mortifying our flesh, of foregoing our freedom, of taking up our Cross, cannot be from our own spirit, because nature doth abhor and shanne all austerity; much less can they be from the Devil; for what hath he to do with perpetual Chastity, with Obedience, with the voluntary humiliation of ourselves, he being the Prince of pride, and nothing more hateful to him, than these virtues? And if this wicked spirit cannot move us to any particular virtue, as to the love of God, to a greater faith, or hope in him, or to true and solid humility, no more than ice can be cause of fire, or fire of ice, much less can he move us to that virtue, which in a manner comprehendeth all virtues. If any body fear, 
It can be no s●●●ght of the Devil, to 〈…〉 Religion. ●ac. 11.15.  lest the Devil do it out of craft, and for some sleight which he hath in it, that he may afterwards work us some greater mischief; this is also a great error, much like to that, in which the jews were, that absurdly and impiously objected to our Saviour: In the Prince of devils he casteth out devils: And they must be answered with the answer which our Saviour gave: That Satan cannot divide his own kingdom; for so he should do in this, if he should go about to thrust sin out of a man's soul or, which is all one, bring a man to a place where he may easily get out of it. He is not such a fool, not so little skilled in this war against souls, as to let go the prev which he hath in his claws, and to suffer it to save itself in so strong a hold, and a place which doth so much annoy him, and he himself to help him forward to that place, upon hope that he shall recover him afterwards with greater gain. Seeing therefore this is but an idle and foolish fear, and of such only as know not the devices which the Devil hath, it remaineth necessarily, that it must be the good spirit to whom we owe the beginnings, and the proceedings, and perfection of so great a work.  

 12. If any man object, that some fail and go back from the course which they have begun; and therefore they were not called of God, because the coun●●l of God remaineth for eue●; S. Thomas shall make an answer for ●s whose words are these: Not all that is of God, is eternal: for if it were so, God should not be the Creator of things corruptible; 
〈◊〉 ●●. 11. S Thom. ●. 2. q. ult. art. 〈◊〉.  which was the heresy of the Manichees. And as it is in nature, so it is in grace; for grace is given us so, as while we live in this pilgrimage, we may lose it, because we have freedom of will, which as it might have rejected the heavenly gift, when it was first offered, and so not received it, so it may cast it away when it hath received it. And thereupon S. Thomas concludeth, that the thou 〈◊〉 of entering into Religion needeth no probation, whether it be of God or no; but whose ever feeleth such a motion in his soul, must admit of it, as of the voice of his Lord and Creator, and a voice which tendeth wholly to his good and benefit.  
13. I have been the more willing to enlarge myself in this matter, because if it be once agreed, that these holy and wholesome thoughts cannot proceed from the craft of the Enemy, nor from our own natural inclinations, but of the sole goodness and liberality of our Saviour JESUS, it cuts off a great part of the occasion of fears, and doubts, and demurs in the business. And that which I said before, followeth evidently, that long consultation about it, is not only unprofitable, the thing being so clear in itself, but very dangerous, because it giveth scope to the Devil to play upon us the longer. 
〈…〉 to be called to counsel.  It follows also, that when we are in deliberation about this business, we must not call our carnal friends and kindred to counsel (which both S. Thomas and all others with ●● y●t consent del●uer) both because the natural affection which they have, hinders them that they cannot see truly, how things stand; and because, as our Saviour himself said, 
Matt 19.11.  not all receive this word; that is, all are not capable of it. And what advice can they give in a business which they do not understand: Wherefore, as if a man be to build a house, he doth not call painters or goldsmith's to counsel, but maister-carpenters or masons; and if a man be sick, he doth not send for Lawyers to advise with, but Physicians, and those of the best; and as in all other things we take the opinion of such men as are most versed in the thing we advice about, so in this great work, being to build a spiritual house, which may stand against all winds, and weather, and floods, and to attend to the cure not of our body but of our soul, shall we go and advise with them, that either have no judgement at all in these things, or are preiudicated with the several affection wherewith they are corrupted? It is therefore to be imparted only to virtuous men, and, to speak truly, to them principally that have gone the way before us, that is, to Religious men, who having had experience of it, are the better able to direct others unpartially in it, and show them how to proceed without error. For were it not wonderful folly and madness, if a man had a journey by sea, or land, to take such a guide as never went the journey in his life, when he may have his choice of many, that have done nothing else all their life-time?  
14. A fifth rule in this business is, 
All vocations of God are not alike.  that all vocations of God are not alike, and that there cannot be one rule given to measure them all by, so as a man may say, it is not a good vocation, because it agrees not with this rule. God is richer t●en so, and more plentiful in his counsels over the sons of men, and draws them unto himself several ways; and men themselves being of such several dispositions and natures as they are, and having so many different exercises and customs and fashions, it agreeth best with them to be brought to God by different means. For as fowlers have not one kind of net, nor one kind of bait, to catch fowls, but some for one kind, and others for others, as they know the humours of the birds are: so God bendeth and applieth himself to the several natures of men, both for their benefit, to win them the 〈◊〉 to himself, and to keep the sweetness which is fitting in his fatherly providence over al. Wherefore as he called P●ter and Andrew from their boats, and Matthew from the Customhouse, because the one was a Publican, the others fishermen; and took S. Paul in the heat of his zeal of persecuting the Church, because that was then his humour: so in all Religious vocations, one is called upon one occasion, and others upon others, and some also out of the midst of their sins. Which manifold wisdom of God, 
Cass Coll. 13. c. 15. & 17.  Cassian among others admireth, dispensing (as he speaketh) the salvation of men with different and unsearchable piety, and bestowing the largesse of his grace, according to every one's capacity, diverse, & innumerable, and unsearchable ways; while he quickeneth the course of some, that go willingly and silently on, to greater fervour; some that were unwilling, he compelleth against their will; here he helpeth to fulfil that, which we profitably desired; and there he inspireth the very beginnings of a holy desire; which manifold largesse of the Divine dispensation the Apostle considering, cries out: O height of riches of wisdom and knowledge of God How incomprehensible are his judgements, and his ways unsearchable!  

Examples of several vocations.  15. And it is easy to see, that this which Cassian saith, is true, if we consider what occurrences of place, and time, and other circumstances God hath made use of, to bring people under this his blessed yoke of Religion. As that which S. Hierome writeth of Paul the first Hermit, that going by chance into a den or cave of earth to hide himself from the rage of Decius and Valerianus, 
S. Hierome in vit● Pauli.  that persecuted the Church of God, after he had been there a little while, began to take a delight in that solitude; 
Paul the first Heremit.  and that which he began of necessity, he continued willingly, and persevered in it all his life-time. The angry humour of the young Prince Arcadius was the occasion, why that great Arsenius, who afterwards was so great a Saint, 
Arsenius.  than Master to the young Prince, forsaking the world gave himself wholly to the service of God; for while he sought to put his body in safety, he found the much more deceitful safety of his soul. What shall I say of Paul surnamed the Simple, 
Paul the Simple.  who taking his wife in adultery, forsook wife, and house, and all, and went straight to S. Antony, in whose school he came in a short time to great perfection of sanctity. That which we read of Abbot Nutius, 
Nu●●us.  a famous holy man, is yet more admirable; for while he was yet a Heathen, and a notable thief, he went on a time to rob a Monastery of Nuns; and getting up to the top of the house, there he fell asleep, and saw in his sleep a King admonishing him to desist from his wicked courses; whereupon he presently desired to be Baptised, and betook himself to a Religious course of life, and therein came to that sanctity, that besides other miracles, like another joshua, he caused the Sun to stand. The like is recorded of Moses a Black amore, 
M●yses  a notable cutter and murderer, that being once in danger of his life, he fled into the next Monastery to save himself, and there strucken with remorse of conscience and fear, took up his rest, 
S. Romualdus.  and never parted thence. An accident also brought S. Romualdus to a Monastical life, wherein he so much flourished. For his father S●gius (who afterwards became a Monk upon his son's example) having killed one of his kinsmen upon a deadly quarrel, which he had against him, lay close for some days in the Monastery of Classi●; where Romualdus partly by the good admonitions of one of the Monks of that house, partly by the advice of S. Apollinaris that appeared twice unto him, resolved to forsake the world; so that the murder which his father had committed, in which he also had some hand, was the occasion of so great good.  
16. But nothing is more admirable in this kind, 
Ayong the●f.  then that which Sophronius, a grave and ancient author, recounteth of a young man, that seeing a noble Lady buried in rich attire, out of covetousness attempted the next night to break open her grave, and steal away her apparel; but the woman rising-up suddenly, laid hold of his hand, and rebuking him very sharply, threatened him withal, that she would never let him go, but there he should dye with the stench and ordure of the place; yet at last upon the wonderful earnest suit he made unto her, she told him, she would let him go, upon condition he would promise her faithfully, to enter presently into Religion; which he both willingly promised, and speedily performed; for from the grave he went straight to a Monastery, where the Abbot, whose name was john, admitted him, and related this whole story to Sephronius not long after it happened; adding moreover, that the man wept so bitterly, when he came unto him, that his tears were witness sufficient of the truth of so rare a miracle; and the happy success declared, that this also was a true and well grounded vocation.  
17. What shall I stand recounting the infinite multitudes of them, 
It is not despair but God that calls people by 〈◊〉.  that have been brought to Religion by houshold-afflictions and calamities, by sickness, by some wrong or other received in their estates, or in their persons and good name, and by other inconveniences which have happened unto them in the world? People commonly are wont to censure them, as if they entered out of despair, and not as moved of God. But they speak ignorantly, fixing their eye upon that which is without, and not seeing the inward grace of God. For in truth, neither poverty, nor sickness, nor any worldly affliction is strong enough to pull a man out of the world, and bring him to Religion: But if a man enter, and enter in that manner, and with those intentions as he ought, it is certain, that the wisdom of God doth outwardly indeed use that as an instrument, sprinkling worldly things all over with gall, to withraw a man's hart from them; but inwardly he gives him his light and the knowledge of his truth, which pulls him from his former estate, and brings him unto his holy Mountain, and into his tents. And we prove it evidently thus. For how many be there and have always been, that oppressed with like poverty, sickness, and calamities, have never had notwithstanding the least thought of entering into Religion, but rather have stuck the faster to the world? What is the reason therefore, that they saved not themselves out of that shipwreck, and these escaped, but that these had the help and hand of God to draw them out? 
S. Hierom● Epist. 34.  S. Hierome understood the truth if this point very well, and useth this argument among the rest to julian, in his long and eloquent Epistle, which he wrote unto him, to persuade him to forsake the world. For whereas he had buried two of his daughters almost at a clap, and beside lost his wife, and suffered much in his temporal estate by inroads which the enemy made into the country, S. Hierome maketh use of all this, and telleth him, that they are warnings from God, who as it is written of the children of Israel, 
S. Macar●u●●●m. 32.  instructeth him with stripes and sorrow, And S. Macarius also in one of his Homilies observeth, that it doth often happen, that God handles a man roughly with miseries and afflictions, that being otherwise too much wedded to the love of earthly things, and seeing all things f●● cross unto him, he may begin a discourse thus within himself: Since I cannot have my will in the world, behold I quit the world, and betake myself to God, wholly to serve him; and at last he thanks his i'll fortune, because by that occasion he was drawn to the sweet yoke of our Lord.  

C●s●. Coll. 3. c. 4.  18. And Cassian reckoning three kinds of vocations, placeth this in the last place, when by loss of goods or by death of friends, or by other such accidents, they that refused to follow God in prosperity, are compelled to follow him by adversity, against their wills, as the Hebrews, of whom it is written in the Psalm: 
Ps. 77.34.  When ●e killed them, they sought him, and returned unto him; and early in the morning, that is, speedily, without delay, they came unto him. And addeth, that though this kind of vocation seem to be the meanest and of least esteem, yet men of great perfection, and great fervour of spirit, have been called by it, and have been nothing inferior to others, that entering upon the service of God upon nobler principles, have brought their life to an end with great commendation. 
God some time, catcheth m●● by a holy craft.  Clima●us saith excellently well, that it is the fashion of God sometimes to catch men by an honest kind of craft, and draw them in by a wile, to save their souls. His words are these: Let us not contemme some that renounce the world without any great consideration, because the spirit doth sometimes piously deceive souls. 
Cl●m. gra. 1.  For oftimes such a renunciation hath better success than another which came upon more advice; as the seed, which falls from the hand of the husbandman where he doth not desire it should, groweth sometimes better, then where it was sowed of purpose. I have seen some, that have gone into a Monastery with no holy intention, but driven by necessity, who afterwards were taken with the great wisdom of the Abbot, and the mild conversation of the Monks, and God giving them the light of grace, they arrived to an eminent state. Thus saith Cl●ma●u●.  
19 The last rule, which we have to set down, is about the comparing of Religious Orders among themselves, 
Which 〈…〉.  so to make a right judgement of them; for this also is necessary, and requires an understanding that is judicious. For though in embracing a Religious course in general, we cannot err, as I have showed, yet in choosing this or the other particular Religion, we may err, & the Devil may put many mists in our way. For oftimes when he sees a man desirous of perfection, he puts a course in his fancy, where perfection is not followed, as it should be, that the good desires, which he had, may come to nothing; oftimes with preposterous fervour he eggs him on to take more upon him then the strength of his b●die is able to bear; and finally all his devices tend to bring a man to do either too much, or too little. Wherefore that in the choice of a particular Institute we be not drawn into error, two things are to be discreetly weighed. First, whether the Institute itself be perfect; and secondly, whether it be perfectly and carefully observed. For though a Religious Family have never so holy Rules and orders in it, if they be not kept, or if few do keep them, the holiness of their Rule is to little purpose; and no man ought to be so confident of himself, as to hope to bear himself up against the multitude, and to keep the right way where the rest go wrong. And consequently a man must not so much consider, which Order is most renowned for antiquity, or for memorable acts in times past, or for the members of holy men that have been in it, but which now at this present is more holy, more observant of Religious discipline, and more full of that first spirit, wherewith the Order was begun and founded.  
20. And if we be desirous of some signs to direct our judgement in this kind, 
What particular 〈◊〉 to be ●●●sidered.  we may consider these things following. First, if there be an exact order observed, that no body have any thing in private to himself, neither money nor any thing else, but all things be kept and served out in common. Secondly, if there be charity, no contention, no hanging off from one another. Thirdly, if ambition be wholly excluded, and all pretences and projects for preferment and honour, and rather such employments declined, as carry a show of greatness and authority. Fourthly, if obedience to Superiors be kept entire & inviolable without exemptions. Fiftly, if the Religious be seldom permitted to deal with their carnal friends and kindred, and not but upon some spiritual occasion. And finally, if they be zealous of the good of souls, and for that end spare no labour or pains that is requisite. These are the chiefest and most important things, which are to be looked into. Other things, though of less moment, are not also to be neglected; as the greatness of the Order, if it abound in good subjects, if it be spread far and near, if it have people in it of diverse nations. For so it must needs abound likewise in learning and wisdom, and have greater helps to effect that which it doth undertake, and more store of good works, by the communication whereof every particular man of the Order hath the greater benefit. As a fire is the greater, the more store of wood is laid upon it, and the wood itself takes the easier, and burns the faster, and makes the more lightsome fire, when there are many sticks together, then when they are laid one by one. Though all this is but extrinsical; that which I said before of the perfection of every Institute, belongs to the essence and substance of it. And because in Perfection there be many degrees, if we will know how to compare them one with another, we must take S. Thomas in our way, who answereth the question in these words: The greatest perfection of a thing, 
S. Th. opus. con. imp. re●●g. c. 1.  consisteth in attaining to the end, which it hath.  
21. Wherefore, to value the perfection of every particular justitute, we must weigh two things: First, whether it have a nobler end; and secondly, whether it have means accordingly more proportionable for the attaining of that end, 
The 〈…〉 chiefly ●o be considered.  because the more perfect the work is, to which a course of life is ordained, the more worthily we must esteem of that course; and likewise the more effectual and abundant means it hath for the effecting of those works, the better is the Institute, and the more to be preferred. But because no man can begin a new life, unless he repent himself of his old, and consequently every Religious Order, in that it enters a man upon a new course of life, is a state of penance, therefore we may make a third comparison of Religious Orders among themselves, in matter of poverty austerity of life, and all kind of corporal afflictions, though the two first comparisons belong more to the nature and essence of Religion, and by them we must judge of the greater or lesser perfection which is in them, both because perfection consisteth more in inward justice, then in outward restraint, & because outward austerity may upon occasion hinder some greater good, specially for the help of our neighbour. And all this in a manner is S. Thomas his discourse, which for these generalities may be applied to find out the true value, and make a true judgement of the dignity of every particular Order.  

S. Greg. lib. 6 ●n lib. reg. c. 6.  22. And that which he said last, concerning austerity of life, may be confirmed out of S. Gregory, where he saith: It is of far higher desert, to keep our will always subject to the will of another, then to wear away our body with great fastings, or to slay ourselves by compunction in a more retired sacrifice. But to return to the rule which S. Thomas gives for the valuation of Religious, that which he writeth in another place, 
S. Th●. 2.2. q 188. are 6.  is also to be considered as pertaining to the same rule: that the Religious which are ordained to teach & preach, are the first in rank among the rest; because these works proceeding from the abundance of Contemplation, comprehend both Action and Contemplation. 
Three tanks of Religious Orders.  In the second rank he placeth those, which attend only to Contemplation; and in the third, those which are altogether in Action. And among those of the same rank, they are more excellent, that have more universal employments, and better rules and orders; as for example, if they have more and better means to assist their neighbour, and so of the rest.  

Another error.  23. Finally, we must also apply a cure to their error, that when they are in deliberation about the choice of a Religious course, decline of purpose those Orders, in which they see there be many rare men of excellent parts, because forsooth they shall be no body, and lean to those courses, where there are but few men of learning or other qualities, thinking that there they shall be in their kingdom. Which, to speak the truth, is but an absurd and foolish kind of ambition, specially in a business which should be farthest off from it, and therefore also we shall not need to spend time in confuting it, but content ourselves with mentioning it; only I thought good to relate what passed with S. Anselm in this kind. 
S Anselm.  For when he was thinking what place he might best choose for the course of Religion, which he intended, two Monasteries offered themselves to his consideration: that of Cluni, 
S. An●o●. 2. part h●st in. 16 c. ●●.  where there was no practice of learning, and that of Becque, which was famous for learning. He was loath to put himself into that of Cluni, because having bestowed some time in study, he saw all would be lost, and on the other file, in Becque he feared that among so many learned men he should be of no esteem. And these were his thoughts at that time, when, as afterwards he was wont to say of himself, he was not yet tamed, nor had not the contempt of the world grafted in his mind. But reflecting upon himself, he said thus to his own soul: What? Is this to be a Monk, to desire precedency of others? to be ambitious of honour & renown? Choose therefore rather that place, where for the love of God thou mayst be behind all, where thou shalt live in obscurity, and be t●e last and lowest of al. And with this resolution, which doubtless was from God, he chose the Monastery of Becque; but the event was far beyond his expectation. For his living among so many learned men, was not only no hindrance to his learning and fame, but growing daily in learning, he grew also more famous than he was in the world; which happeneth also most commonly to others.   

The Conclusion of the whole Work, to Religious people. CHAP. XXXVII.  
Having now discoursed at large of the riches and manifold commodities of a Religious course of life, and taken a full view of the worth, and dignity, and beauty of it in the sight of God and man, and showed withal, that no earthly thing for pleasure and sweetness is comparable unto it; It is time to consider, what effect all this together ought to work in the mind of him, 
The benefit Religion to be highly esteemed.  that finds himself environed with such a world of blessings, poured forth so largely upon by the bountiful hand of God, who is sole Author of them. For if profit alone, or in matter of profit one single benefit, one point of gain, specially if it be eternal, aught to be above measure esteemed; what shall we say of such an infinite number of spiritual commodities, and together with these commodities, so many noble and undoubted titles of true honour, and finally such abundance of solid joys and comforts? For God in this great work of Grace hath proceeded as in the principal operations of Nature, upon which the conservation of every particular thing in his kind depends; for besides the necessity which is of them, he hath planted in itching pleasure in them, to draw his works never to cease, never to be weary of that kind of operation. And in like manner hath he contrived this wholesome form of living, that though it be in itself somewhat austere and bitter, yet the wonderful benefit which comes of it, makes it worthy to be desired, as a medicine in sickness, and again he hath so seasoned it with joys and comforts, that though it were not so profitable, it is notwithstanding to be infinitely loved for the sweetness which is in it, and to be preferred before all mortal comforts.  
2. Which seeing we have made plain to every body in the discourse of these three Books, with what disposition of mind is it fitting we should entertain and make use of so great and so useful a blessing? In my judgement three things may be required of us, 
Three things required of all Religious people.  which are heads and fountains of many others. First, thanksgiving for so great a benefit; secondly, a careful endeavour daily to increase in perfection; and finally a diligent and watchful custody of so ample and so rich a treasure. First therefore, as I said, the greatness of the benefit requireth a thankful mind. For if in every little courtesy, which one man doth another, it is held a kind of incivility, not to return a man thanks for it; how much more uncivil must it needs be, 
Grati●●●● & Thanksgiving.  not to be thankful to God, for so rare & divine a thing? specially seeing the Majesty of God is so great above man, that the least thing which we receive of him, must needs be an inestimable courtesy. And this thankful mind includeth many things; it includeth knowledge, it includeth memory, it includeth love and good will, it includeth finally joy everlasting. For unless a man know and understand, what is given him, he cannot be thankful for it; if he know it, and quickly forget it, he is equally unthankful: but if a man know it and remember it▪ he cannot but be inflamed with excessive love of God, because he cannot but love him that is so good, and so many several ways good to him, and finally seeing himself so loaded, so enriched, so adorned with his liberalive, he cannot but rejoice, and excessively rejoice at it. But because all depends upon the knowledge of the greatness of this benefit, the first thing that we must persuade ourselves of, is, that this vocation to Religion is absolutely the greatest and the soveraignest benefit, which God can bestow upon man in this life.  

〈◊〉 the 〈…〉 that God 〈…〉 life.  3. For what can a man desire more? Honour, or wealth, or learning, of eloquence, or to be sovereign Emperor of the whole world? But all this is corporal, and consequently perishable and lile worth. That is only great, which is great in the sight of God, such as spiritual things are: Now of these spiritual things, of virtue, or whatsoever other goodness▪ what is there that aboundeth not in a Religious state? so that he that hath that state, hath al. Which is that which S. Bernard so much extolleth in one of his Sermons in these words: And first he created thee with the rest, 
S. Bernard 〈…〉.  and among the rest he created thee not without a singular prerogative of honour. After this again, that infinite Majesty inflamed with excessive love of thee, redeemed thee. So easily with a word, as he created thee? No, but he wrought thy salvation in the midst of the earth thirty years, was nailed to a Cross, condemned to die, adjudged to be a mockery. But towards us he hath added another special benefit, in that from the broad and spacious way which leadeth to death, he hath drawn us with his finger, & placed us in the counsel and Congregation of the Iust. What ought he to have done more which he did not? Whose breast is of so hard a stone, as not to melt at the multitude of such and so great benefits, poured out upon us by such and so great a hand? With reason ●herefore doth S. Bernard require of Religious people a grateful remembrance of such wonderful gifts, and a memory inflamed with wonderful love.  

God 〈…〉  4. Let us remember, how mindful God did require the ancient jew should be of the benefit of their delivery from the servitude of Egypt, ordaining the yearly solemnity of the Paschal Lamb in memory of it, to be performed with so many rites and ceremonies; and he did almost no special thing in favour of them, for the remembrance of which he did not appoint some certain day in the year to be solemnised. We therefore▪ we, I say, having been delivered out of the land of Egypt, that is, out of the dark and toilsome prison of this world, having been fed in the Desert, as I have showed, with the most delightsome Ma●●a, having received the Law by the ministry of Angels, to wit, our written Rules, and the will of God made known daily unto us by the light and conduct of our Superiors; how much more just and reasonable is it, that we should keep a continual and lively memory of this benefit? And as God tied the memory of those ancient benefits, not to every ordinary day, but to days that were holy & festival, to signify that the remembrance of them must be festival & full of joy: so the consideration of this our vocation must be always accompanied with cheerful ha●t always full of joy and mirth. For what is there that can contristate a Religious man, if he know his own happiness? for the incommodities which he may suffer, are nothing to the comforts which abound in this state. When Anna bewailed her unfruitfulness, her husband Helcana cheered her up in this manner Anna, 
1 Reg 1.  why weepest thou? and wherefore is thy hart afflicted? Am not I better to thee, than ten sons? If one of us may say thus to another, certainly God may with much more reason say it; for if we have God, as doubtless in Religion we have him, it is more to be valued, then if we had all the creatures in the world; and the loss of all creatures, is abundantly recompensed by only possessing God. Besides that, in Religion the nobleness of our spirit purchased by forsaking all things, and consequently contemning them, and living continually in the contempt of them, makes that there is nothing upon earth, that can either seem so beautiful as to deserve our love, or so harsh and hateful as we should be afraid of it. Wherefore, to conclude, if we will show ourselves to be what indeed we ought to be, and what God desireth we should be, we must never cease from giving thanks to God, never slack or relent in it; and though we can never return him so many thanks as he deserves, not bear him that true affection for his benefits, which the thing itself requires, let us notwithstanding employ upon him as many, as our weakness is capable of; and acknowledge at least & confess, that he hath so gone beyond us with the immensity of his gifts, that we shall never be able so much as to think sufficiently, what thanks is fitting to give him.  
5. But if we know the true value of this benefit, 
Desire of perfection.  and esteem it as we ought, it must needs produce in us the second thing which I spoke of, to wit, an excessive and everlasting desire of attaining to perfection; so that all our thoughts, all the powers of our soul, will be continually bend upon it. For first, this is that which God requires at our hands, whose will is our sanctification. This his love demandeth of us; for it having been towards us so profuse and without stint, we cannot better, nor in a more bountiful manner correspond to his love, then if we love him again, and adorn and set forth ourselves in that manner, that we may truly deserve to be loved by him. The state itself in which we are, demandeth it, because it is nothing else but a profession of virtue and perfection. Wherefore, as it is a shame for a soldier to be a coward, and for a student to be no scholar, and men take it as a disgrace to be thought so; so in Religion, where the study of virtue & sanctity is only in request, it is a shame to be imperfect, and to follow that business but coldly, 
Apoc. 3. 1●.  it being the thing which our Lord in the apocalypse so much complaineth of.  
6. Finally, two things, well considered, will greatly encourage Religious people in that which they have in hand. 
The riches of 〈◊〉 not to 〈◊〉 got without labour.  First, that all the commodities and pleasures which I have discoursed of in all this Treatise, are certainly in Religion, & much greater also, then was possible for me to describe; yet they are as gold-oare in the veins of the earth, which by labour and industry is to be digged out. For what piece of ground is there, be it never so fat & fruitful, which will bring forth fruit, unless a man tii it, and sow it, and bestow labour upon it? So these treasures and commodities of a Religious life are great, yet they require a man that knows them well, and makes great account of them, and, which is consequent, makes the best use of them he can, 
The 〈◊〉 not gr●●●  & labours daily to increase them. The other thing which is to be considered, is the easiness of the business, and the commodity which a man hath of getting perfection, every thing being taken away, that may any way hinder him, and on the other side, all helps concurring to further him plenty of inward grace, and so many influences & assistances from heaven, that nothing can be said to be wanting but ourselves, if we be not holy and perfect. Wherefore we must make account, 
Hil● 6  that the Apostle speaks to us when he saith: The earth drinking-in the vain often coming vpo● it (for where doth the heavenly dew & rain fall oftener than in Religion?) & bringing forth gras●e, commedi●us for them that 〈◊〉, receiveth blessing of God; but bringing forth briers and thorns, it is reproba●●, and a very curse, whose end is to be burnt. Where, both our happiness if we do well, and our extreme misery, if we do not well, is set before our eyes. But God forbid such a curse should fall upon us; rather he will give us abundance of his holy grace, 
Ephes. 5.8.  that, as the same Apostle exhorteth elsewhere, because we were sometimes darkness, but now light in our Lord, let us walk like sons of light, and bring forth fruits of light in all goodness, and justice, and truth.  

Care of keeping ourselves in Religion  7. The third effect, which we spoke of, was care, and diligence, and earnest endeavour to preserve so great a good. And we need not stand proving, that it is fitting for every body to have this care; the knowledge of the greatness of the benefit doth naturally put it into us; for he that doth throughly know it, will rather dye a thousand deaths, then let it go out of his hands, or suffer any body to take it from him. And certainly nothing is more terrible, more lamentable, more horrible, 
From whence, & whither they fall, that neglect it.  more detestable to Religious people, then to fall from such an estate, to be shut out from so great a happiness, to be as Adam cast out of Paradise. For it were, as S. Bernard discourseth, to be drawn again into the wrack at sea, from whence they crept out naked; to fall again, where they had been half-burned, and hardly escaped; to light again among the thieves, by whom they were left but half alive, 
S Bernard Ep. 111.  and by the mercy of God were now recovered; and for the soldier of Christ almost in the sight of heaven triumphing, from the gates of that glory, to return as a dog to his vomit, & as a sow washed, to her wallowing in the mire. 
2. Pet 2.22.  Wherefore the same S. Bernard doth fitly apply to this purpose that which is spoken in the Canticles to the Spouse in a threatening manner: 
Cant. ●. 8.  Get you forth, and go; and saith, that God cannot speak to a Religious soul a harsher word than this, nor any thing that can strike more terror into it. 
S. Bern ser. 38. in Can..  Which thou also, saith he, mayst perceive, if thou consider well, from whence, and whither thou art bid to go. From whence, and whither dost thou think, but from spirit to flesh, from the goods of the mind to the desires of the world, from the inward quiet of the mind to the noise of the world, and unquietness of outward cares? in all which there is nothing but labour and affliction of spirit. For a soul that hath once learned and received of our Lord to enter into itself, and within itself to sigh after the presence of God, such a soul, I say, I know not whether it would think it more painful or more horrible, to suffer the very, pains of hell for a time, then after having once tasted the sweetness of this spiritual study & exercise, to go out again to the allurements or rather to the troubles of the flesh, and seek after the unsatiable curiosity of sense. Thus saith S. Bernard, and all spiritual authors with one consent agree in the same.  
8. For as he that falls headlong from any place, the higher the place is from which he falls, the more he bruiseth himself; so he that casts himself out of a Religious state, which doubtless is an eminent high estate, must needs break himself all in pieces, and crush, and disjoint, and put out of order all the powers of his soul. 
Matt. 5.13.  For, this is that Salt which having lost the virtue and savour which it hath received for the seasoning of itself and others, is now good for nothing any more, and therefore nothing remaineth, but that it be cast forth, and trodden under foot by men A just and worthy punishment, that whom the dignity of this state before had placed above other men, and made him venerable unto all, having lost this ornament, should first become as other men, and then base than they, by how much greater his offence is, and therefore be contemned by every body, and made a laughingstock, and a very football to men's tongues.  
9 And what do they, that inveigled with the lose and fickle pleasures of this world, 
A miserable exchange.  turn their backs to so great a benefit, which God had bestowed upon them, but that which that wicked & reprobate Esau did, when he sold his birthright, & moreover went his ways contemning that he had sold it? And for what did he sell it? for one dish of pulse. O blindness of a reckless man! that could entertain such a thought in his mind, as for, & together with so base, & so ordinary a dish of meat, to consume & devour in a moment so rich an inheritance, to cast away his father's blessing, & all the right of his primogeniture in an instant. But he that at that time made so slight of it, afterwards lamented his loss, roaring out with a great voice, but when it was too late, & in vain to repent. In like manner, if we compare secular people with Religious, they are indeed both sons of God, but Religious are the first begotten, and have received already greater spiritual blessings in the state itself, & if they live according to their state, they shall receive a larger portion of the heavenly inheritance. What madness therefore is it for a disordered desire of one unfortunate and base bit of pleasure, to slight & utterly to cast away such hopes, such present and future entertainments, such commodities, such delights, so many, & so rare blessings, as if another would go about to take them from us, they were worthy to be defended with the loss of our lives. What tears, what lamentations, even in this life will this short & momentary delight, bought with eternal torment, bring upon us?  
10. And what shall we say of the wrong which we do to God, 
Wrong done to God.  when we break covenants with him, when we forsake his service, run away out of his Camp, when to his face we make more account of the friendship of the world, and the love of earthly things, than we do of his familiarity and acquaintance? This is the reason why, though God is wont to reserve the punishment of other offences to another world, most commonly he revengeth himself of this baseness presently; & we see, that ordinarily they that fall from Religion, either live afterwards in perpetual misery, or dye suddenly a most miserable death. As one of whom we read in the History of the Franciscans, about the year. 1260. who by the Devil's instigation having forsaken his Order and Monastery, two of the Friars of that Order moved with compassion, 
Severely punished.  went after him to persuade him to return again, but he obstinately rejected their wholesome advice; they saw an ugly black dog make at him, and affrighted with the sight of him, they cried out to the miserable wretch, to take heed of that infernal fiend; but he being with that more enraged, plucked off his Habit, and cast it from him, and ran his ways. And behold, he had not run far, when that monster, which, as long as the man kept on his Habit, had not power to annoy him▪ leapt upon him, pulled him to the ground, and throttled him so suddenly, that the two Friars, though they made speed to rescue him, found him dead when they came. And infinite such accidents have happened in all Orders, insomuch that Dionysius Car●husianus hath written almost a whole book full of such lamentable and admirable misfortunes; and if we would undertake to set down all that have fallen out in our Order, they would make a Volume by themselves, which perhaps may be some body's work.  
11. And yet I will not omit to mention some few, that have happened lately within those two years, or little more. For first it is certain of two, that lo●t our Soc●e●ie, wherein they had spent some years, that one of them was not long after wounded to death, and the other, though he were a strong healthful man, in the prime of his youth, was suddenly taken away with a fever; whereupon an other of ours, whom the Devil at that instant was soliciting also to revolt, meeting his corpse, as they were carrying it to be buried, was so da●●ed with it, that shaking off the temptation which hung upon him, he resolved to remain in Religion. A third was a No●ice, who deboi●●d from that course by a kinsman of his, after a few days, which (blinded with the world) he spent in taverns, in drinking, and all manner of licentiousness, he and his kinsman, that had deboi●●d him, with many others in company, met with the party with whom they were at variance, and among so many swords drawn, these two only were hurt; and the wounds at first seemed but slight; but rankled, and brought them both to their grave in one day, though not with like event. For he that had forsaken his vocation, as that man that was more guilty of the two, lost his speech and sense● upon a sudden, and so died, without either Confession (which doubtless he needed) or any other Sacrament. And almost at the same instant, the other wasted with a strong fever, in the midst of his youth, though he had at the Sacraments, yet cried out continually, that he was damned, and could not by any means be drawn from that note. A fourth was as miserable, if not more miserable than he; for not a full year after he had forsaken the Order, he was shot dead with a pistol. And that which happened to a Priest was as lamentable, for having left the Order, he was killed with a mattock by one of his Tenants, for certain jealousies. And an other fell mad and cast himself into a cistern, from whence being two days after taken out and known, all the City was in a maze, no body making doubt, but that happened so unto him, because he had left his vocation. Finally about the same time, another that had left the Society while he was a Novice, gave himself over so far to all kind of wickedness, that at last he came to be put to death for it; and when he was to go to his execution, after he had made his Confession to one of our Fathers, he fell into a great passion of grief, exceedingly blaming himself for leaving this Paradise, as he called it, and protested, that when he put off the Habit of Religion, it was as if he had put off Christ, and set open the gates to all vice. And all this; as I said, hath happened so lately, & to people that are so well known, that of purpose I forbear to name them, not to upbraid the dead. It is to no purpose therefore, to search ancienter records for the like lamentable accidents, seeing we have so many fearful ones before our eyes. I omit diverse others, because I will not be too long in so unpleasing a subject. These shall suffice, to show, how near this injury doth touch God, and how highly he is displeased with it, seeing he doth revenge it with so sudden and so grievous punishments.  

The enormousnes of the offence.  12. Though we have no great cause to wonder at it, if we consider, how great a sin it is to forsake God, when once we have obliged ourselves unto him by Vow, and as it were sworn our allegiance, and yet turn to the vanities and services of the world. Of which sin S. Basil hath this excellent discourse: 
S Basil. in rig fus. c. 14  He that hath once vowed himself to God, if afterwards he pass to another kind of life, committeth sacrilege, because he stealeth himself from God, to whom he w●● consecrated. And elsewhere more at large thus: 
Id●m. Cons●. ●on. c. 12.  This is most certain, that he that hath once obliged himself to live in a spiritual Society with his Brethren, 〈◊〉 separate and cut himself off from them, without a great offence. For if ●he●, when they have once entered into a society together in matters concerning this mortal life, cannot go from it, by reason of the 〈◊〉 which are betwixt them; & he that 〈◊〉 tempt it, should be subject to the 〈◊〉 of the 〈◊〉 with out doubt much 〈◊〉 he that hath 〈◊〉 covenant of a spiritual conversation ● this union being inseparable & perpetualy cannot part and break off from them, with whom he was as it were one body; and if he do, he is liable to most heavy punishments appointed by God. For if a woman taken into the company of man by the laws of marriage, and linked with him by 〈…〉, be to dye for it, if she be found to have broken her faith; how much more grievous punishment shall be instricted upon him, that divideth himself from the spiritual cohabitation, to which he is tied before the holy-ghost, as before a witness and mediator of it? As therefore the members of a man's body knit together by the bond of nature, cannot be pulled asunder from the body, or if they be pulled asunder, death must needs follow; so a Monk that is vni●ed to the body of his Religious brethren, and tied unto them by a stronger knot than the bond of nature, to wit, by the covenant which he hath entered with the holy-ghost, it cannot be thought, that he can any way withdraw himself from them, with whom he is thus linked: and if he do, he loseth the life of his soul, and together with his life, the grace of the holy-ghost, a● one that hath broken the covenant, 
The scandal of it▪  which upon his advice he made. Thus saith S. Basil, and much more to the like purpose, and concludeth with this observation: Wherefore, he that is such a one, is to be esteemed as condemned by the sentence of Truth itself, as one that giveth great occasion of scandal to others, and by his evil example draweth others to imitate him. He becomes heir to that terrible woe: 
Mat. 18.7.  It is expedient for him that a millstone be hanged at his neck, and that he be drowned in the depth of the sea▪ For a soul that shall have once cast itself headlong upon this revolt, soon filled with all kind of vice, intemperance, ashantee, gluttony, falsehood, and all lose behaviour, and finally plunged in extreme wickedness, sink headlong into the depth of malice. Behold that which we said before; he that falleth from so eminent an estate, must needs bruise himself in all parts of his soul, and consequently 〈◊〉 into all manner of sin, as S. Basil witnesseth in this place.  
13. S. Augustin avoucheth the same in this heavy sentence: 
S. August. Conf. 37.  I plainly confess before our Lord God, who is witness over my soul, from the time that I began to serve God, as I have hardly found better men than they that have profited in Monasteries, so I have not found worse than they are, that have fallen out of Monasteries: so that I think it was for this cause written in the apocalypse: 
Apo. 22.11▪  Let the just be more just, and he that is 〈◊〉, become more filthy. S. Ephrem also in one of his Sermons setteth forth very lively this general 〈◊〉 both of spiritual and temporal goods; 
S. Ephrem. 〈◊〉 Non 〈…〉.  which they incur that fall from Religion, and thus he speaketh: If after the renunciation, and the giving over of our former course of life, a man begin to halt in his endeavour to virtue, and by little and little depart from the right way, and look back again, he shall be an example to others in this life, and after this life shut out of the kingdom of heaven, unworthy of the company of Saints, yea and to his parents themselues his reachlessenes will be a confusion, his friends will fall away for grief, and his enemies rejoice at his slothfulness and ruin. His kinsfolks and allies will wish him dead, because naked of earthly things, he hath not laid hold of heavenly things, but under pretence of Piety stooped to the yoke of the Devil; His parents, lament the loss of his soul; he himself, that is thus seduced in hart, and hath corrupted his ways, shaking off virtue, becometh impudent, and is not ashamed to do shameful things; for he neither feareth men, nor weigheth with himself the wrath of God. And as the impious, when he shall come into the depth of sins, 
Prou. 18. Marc. 2. Mat. 9  contemneth, so falling into this great rashness, he is afraid of nothing; but like him that sold all his substance, selling his garment of inestimable price, upon a fury, fills it with patches of course and filthy cloth; which if he use again, he cannot use it with honour and commendation, but to his reproach and disgrace. For who will not laugh him to scorn, seeing him that yesterday in a Monastery had girt himself to the service of his Brethren dwelling in one (after the example of our Lord jesus Christ) to day walking with a company of servants? or who will not blame him, that yesterday of his own accord, cast away all temporal things, embracing poverty, and to day sits upon the bench in judgement, and earnestly recalls that which before he had condemned, and transfers his mind again from heavenly things to earthly? All this & much more is of S. Ephrem.  
14. S. Gregory also in his Epistle to Venantius, that was become an Apostate, and a vagabond, describeth at large the grievousness of this sin, and among the rest saith thus: 
S. Gregory Ep. 33. lib. 1. Reg.  Bethink thyself what habit thou wert in, and acknowledge to what thou art fallen, by neglecting the punishments which threaten thee from above. Consider therefore thy fault, while thou hast time. Tremble at the rigour of the judge that is to come, lest then thou feel it sharp, when by no tears thou wilt be able to escape it. Ananias had vowed his money to God, which afterwards overcome by persuasion of the Devil, he withdrew again; but thou knowest with what death he was punished. 
Acts. 5.  If therefore he was worthy of the punishment of death, that took away from God the money which he had given, consider what punishment in the judgement of God thou shalt be worthy of, that hast withdrawn, not thy money, but thyself from Almighty God, to whom thou hadst vowed thyself in the habit of a Monk.  

Caesarius hom 3. ad Monaches.  15. And Caesarius in one of his Homilies to his Monks: What can be more grievous then suddenly to be rooted out of the place, to which thy Lord God had called thee, where he first enlightened thee, into which after the miseries of this world he brought thee as to the haven, out of a terrible tempest? To forget upon the sudden thy brotherhood, thy society, thy comfort; to forget the place where thou hadst put off thy ancient habit, and thy secular behaviour? Birds love their nests; wild beasts love the places, where they have been bred, they love their dens and pastures. And thou that hast understanding, that are endued with reason, wilt thou at any time be so void of sense, as to prefer thy own pleasures and intentions before the benefits of God, and follow thy own fancies, which to whatsoever hard labour, to whatsoever wrack of salvation, and losses of thy soul, they draw thee, thou feelest not all this, by reason of the extreme baseness of thy hart.  
16. S. john Chrysostome also writ a long and eloquent Epistle of this subject, to Theodore a Monk that was fallen, and beginneth it in this mournful manner: Who will give water to my head, 
S. Io. Chrys. Ep. 6.  and to mine eyes a fountain of tears? and as followeth, expressing great grief; and again speaketh thus unto him: Thou rejecting the commandment of our Lord, a Lord so meek and humble, dost stoop to the cruel command of a Tyrant, that oppugneth our salvation, without any feeling of compassion; Thou breaking the sweet yoke, and casting away the light burden, instead of them, hast put thy neck in iron-chaines, and, which is more, hast of thy own accord hung about thy own neck a millstone. Where therefore dost thou think thou canst stay thyself, that hast drowned thy miserable soul in so great a gulf, and brought thyself to an exigent, which driveth thee always further and further into the deep? 
●uc. 15.  The woman in the Gospel when she had found her groave, called her neighbours together to be a partakers of her joy, saying: Reioycce with me. But I calling friends together for a quite contrary cause, will say unto them: Lament with me, mourn, and cryeout pitifully with tears; for a great loss is come upon us, not of gold, or silver, or precious stones, but of him that is more precious to us then all these; of him that sailing together with us, this great and vast sea, being cast over board, I know not how, is fallen ●●●o the depth of perdition.  
17. But S. Bernard speaketh heaviest of all the rest, 
S. Bernard's opinion about going from one Order of Religion to another less strict. S. Bernard Ep. 1.  not to one that was fallen from Religion to the world, but gone only out of one Religion to another more loosely governed, & had for it leave from the Pope; & yet he saith thus unto him: O senseless child, who hath inveigled thee not to perform thy Vows, which thy lips have uttered? and what doth any man flatter thee in vain with the Absolution from the Pope, seeing the sentence of God doth bind thy conscience? No man, saith he, putting his hand to the plough and looking back, is fit for the Kingdom of heaven. Look into thy hart, examine thy intention, advice with truth. Let thine own conscience answer, wherefore thou went'st away, wherefore thou forsookest thy Order, thy Brethren, thy place? if to live more austerely, more uprightly, more perfectly, thou art secure, because thou hast not looked back; if otherwise, do not mind high things, but fear. Thus writeth S. Bernard in that Epistle, which is famous for the notable miracle which happened in the writing of it. And his words ought to make the greater impression in us, because, as I say, the man whom he blameth so much, returned not to the world, but went only to an inferior state of perfection, & yet so great a man as S. Bernard, 
S. Bernard Ep 94. S. Greg 3. p. past. c. 28▪  and so full of the light of heaven as he was, doth not stick to condemn him as one that had looked back. And being asked the question at another time, he answereth not in his own, but in S. gregory's words: For so, saith he, writeth the holy Pope Gregory in his Pastoral: Whosoever hath resolved to undertake a greater good, hath made the lesser good which he might have done, unlawful unto him. And to prove it, he bringeth the testimony of the Gospel saying: No body putting his hand to the plough & looking back, 
Luc. 9  is fit for the Kingdom of heaven; & thereupon concludeth: He therefore that purposed in stronger endeavour, is convinced to look back, if foregoing the greater, he bend himself to the lesser. And the same S. Gregory in his third Homily upon Ezechiel: There be some that perform indeed the works which they know, 
S. Greg ●●. 3. in Ezech.  and performing them, purpose better things; but unsaying themselves again, they alter from the better which they had purposed. They do the good things which they had begun, but faint from the better which they had thought to do. These men certainly seem in the judgement of men to stand, but before the ●yes of Almighty God they are fallen from their purpose. All this S. Bernard brings out of S. Gregory; & the authorities of two so great Saints meeting together, make that which they said, the stronger.  
18. And we may evidently conclude upon it, that if it be a wicked thing to go from a Religion that is perfect, to one that is less perfect, and he that doth so, shall not escape the judgement of God; how much more wicked is it, to fall from Religion into the dirt and mire of the world? Some labour to excuse their inconstancy, pretending that they return not ●o the world, to return to their sins, but are resolved to live uprightly and lead a virtuous life, which by the grace of God (which forsaketh no body) they hope to do, & that it importeth not where they live, so they live well. Against which foolish and pernicious error we might say many things; but one word of S. Basil is sufficient to stop their mouths: Whosoever, 
S. Basil de abdic. s●s.  saith he, forsaketh the Colours of Christ, because he thinketh he may notwithstanding practise virtue, and please God, is wonderfully deceived. For he that in a course of life, not cumbered with distractive cares, and therefore less subject to sin, could not withstand his adversary, how can it be thought, that in a life, in which there be so many gates open to sin, and where it is in his own power freely to use his liberty, he will do any thing that is virtuous? And yet though we grant he may, he can never escape the infamy of having revolted from Christ, as those Disciples whom the holy Evangelist openly reproveth when he saith: 
job. 6.66.  And many of the disciples went back, and now did not walk with jesus, saying: This word is hard. And then allegeth many arguments, to show how damnable this inconstancy is, and particularly, that they that suffer themselves to be thus put by their place, and lose their footing, become a laughingstock and mockery to all, and together with the loss of their own souls, scandalise all kind of people, giving them occasion to think, that the service of Christ is intolerable.  
19 But enough of this hideous offence, and perhaps more then enough, considering the matter is so fowl and detestable. Wherefore let us return to our former discourse of the sweetness & happiness, which God hath so abundantly heaped upon this estate; for there can not be a greater incitement and encouragement to persever in it, then if we know truly what it is, and how great a gift of God. Let every one make account, that those heavenly words of the apocalypse were spoken to himself: 
Apo. 3.11.  Hold that which thou hast, that no man may take thy crown. For the service of God may be truly called a Crown, which signify honour and dignity, and a Princely state. This is the Crown which we must hold, that no body take it from us; that is, endure whatsoever pain, trouble, labour, austerity, yea part with our very lives, rather than part with it.  

The exhortation of S. Anthony  20. But what can we allege more effectual to encourage all Religious people in that which they have in hand, than that discourse, which (as S. Athanasius recordeth) S. Anthony was wont to hold to his followers? And because it is the discourse of so rare a man, and so universally agreeth to all Religious people, and layeth lively before us the happiness which we enjoy in Religion, I have made choice of it, as the fittest to conclude therewith this whole Treatise of a Religious State. And this it is: In this present life the prices are equal with the things which we exchange; 
S. Atha●●in ●●ta An●o.  and he that selleth, receiveth not things of greater value from him that buyeth. But the promise of everlasting life is purchased at a low rate. For it is written: The days of our life threescore and ten years. When therefore we shall have lived fourscore, 
Ps. 89 10.  or a hundred years, labouring in the service of God, in the life to come we shall not reign just so much time, but for the years which I have said, the kingdom of all ages shall be given us. We shall not inherit earth but heaven, and leaving this corruptible body, we shall receive it with incorruption. Therefore, my Children, let not tediousness weary you, nor the ambition of vainglory delight you. 
Rome 8. 1●.  The sufferings of this time are not condign to the future glory, which shall be revealed in us. Let no man, when he looks upon the world, think he hath left great matters; for the whole earth compared with the immensity of the heavens, is little. If therefore renouncing the whole world, we cannot say, we give a just value for those heavenly habitations, let every one reflect upon himself, and he will presently understand, that having contemned a small treasure, or a little house, or a small portion of gold, he hath neither cause to glory, as if he had forsaken great things, nor to repent himself, as if he were to receive but little. For as a man sets little by one piece of brass to gain a hundred pieces of gold, so he that hath forsaken the Empire of the whole world, shall receive a hundred-fold of better rewards in that sublime Throne. Finally we must consider also, that though we would keep our wealth, we shall be taken from it, whether we will or no, by the course of death. Why therefore do we not make a virtue of necessity? why do we not voluntarily forsake that, to gain the kingdom of heaven, which we must lose when our life is at an end? Let us consider that we are servants of our Lord, 
Gen. 19.26.  and owe service to him that hath created us; let no man by looking back imitate the wife of Loath, especially seeing our Lord hath said, that no man that putteth his hand to the plough and looketh back, is worthy of the kingdom of heaven. To look back, is nothing else, but to repent ourselves of that which we have begun, and to entangle ourselves again in worldly desires. Be not, I beseech you, afraid of the name of virtue, as if it were impossible; let not this exercise seem strange unto us, or hard to come by; it dependeth (the grace of God preceding) of our free will; Man hath a natural inclination to this work, 
1. Cor. 9.24.  and it is a thing which expecteth only our good will; whereupon our Lord in the Gospel saith: The kingdom of God is within you. This we have culled out of a long discourse of S. antony's, which every one must take, and ponder, as spoken to himself, that seeing by the grace and goodness of God we are entered into this holy race of Religion, we may continue to run so in it, as we may one day happily obtain.   

The Conclusion of the whole Work, to Secular people. CHAP. XXXVIII.  
WE must now at last address ourselves also to Secular people; though not to all, but to whom God hath vouchsafed from heaven some rays of a Religious vocation. Others that have received no such light, it is neither lawful for me to move them in it, nor am I willing to meddle with admonishing them; but for that which belongeth to their duty, other discourses are more fitting for them.  

Matt 9 9  2. But they whom God hath vouchsafed so great a benefit, as to cast his eye upon them, and behold them sitting, as it were, in the Customhouse, and shining in their hearts, 
2. Cor. 4.6.  hath invited them, from earthly thoughts, & worldly fashions, to this heavenly manner of living, stand in need of some body to admonish▪ to exhort, to help t●em forward in this happy course. 
They that think of entering into Religion, must expect encounters.  For many encounters stand expecting them, partly from the Devil their foreign Enemy, partly from their own flesh, an Enemy more dangerous, because the war is within the land. And though every one, by that which he findeth by experience within himself, may easily understand, what kind of assaults these are, yet it will not be amiss to hear what S. Gregory saith of them in these words: In the first beginning of our conversion we have great sorrow; 
S Greg. 24.24. Mor. ca 7.  for when a man considering his own offences, desires to break in sunder the fetters of worldly cares, & walk the way of God by the path of a safe conversation, & cast off the heavy burden of temporal desires, to carry the sweet yoke of our Lord in a free manner of servitude: while he hath this in his thoughts, the carnal delight, which was familiar with him, meeteth him in the way, & being from a long time grown in custom, the longer he hath used it, the straighter it closeth with him, and suffereth him to part the slower from it. And what sorrow is there, what anxiety of hart, when on the one side the spirit calleth, and on the other side the flesh draweth back? on the one side the love of a new conversation inviteth, on the other the custom of our ancient wickedness resisteth; on the one side, his hart burns with desire of the heavenly Country, on the other side he endures in himself the pain of carnal concupiscence; which also doth in some sort delight him against his wil This is S. gregory's discourse of it; and yet that fresh soldiers especially may not be disheartened, let us see further, what succours and supplies God sends them, 
〈◊〉 is 〈◊〉 to be one come.  and how easily they may go away with the victory. For this is that which followeth in him: But because the Divine grace doth not suffer us long to be molested with these difficulties, breaking the fetters of our sins, he quickly bringeth us to the liberty of this new conversation, by comforting us; and the ensuing joy solaceth our precedent sorrows, insomuch that the soul of every one that is converted, doth so much the more rejoice, when it obtaineth what it desired, by how much it remembreth the grief was greater in the labour to obtain it. His hart is excessively joyful, because now through hope of security he approacheth to whom he desired, and rightly we may say of him: He will beseech God, 
job. 33.  who will be pleased with him, and he shall see his face in inhilation; or: He hath delivered his soul, that it should not go to destruction, but living should see light.  
3. If therefore the case be thus, as S. Gregory tells us, who can be afraid of such skirmishes as are, 
The goods of this world are nothing.  as we see, both short, and seconded on our side with so many helps towards the victory? But first of all, for the better success in it, we must wean ourselves from a conceit, which is wont to be a great rub in this kind of deliberation, as if they that forsake the goods of this world, lost some great matter, whereas in truth there is no great thing in them, nothing that can be truly called good; & though there were, they that do forsake them, do not indeed lose them, but exchange them for that which is better, and of far greater value. Which is that, of which S. Bernard putteth Sophia, 
S Ber. Epi. ad Sophiam.  a noble and rich Lady, in mind, upon a resolution which she had to forsake the world, and consecrate herself to God. The things, saith he, which thou abandonest, are small, earthly, transitory. That which thou desirest, is great, heavenly, eternal. I will say more, and yet say but the truth: Thou forsakest darkness, thou interest into light; from the depth of the seas, thou risest to the harbour; from a miserable slavery, thou art rescued into a happy freedom; finally from death thou passest to life▪ For hitherto living after thine own will, not after the will of God, living at thine own direction, not according to the law of God, living thou wert dead.  
4. S. Ambrose for this reason likeneth the voluntary renunciation of all things to a thing deposited, 
That which we renounce, is but deposited.  because when we depositate any thing with a friend, we receive the self same thing again at the time agreed on, and have this commodity, that in the mean time it is sure unto us in a safe hand. Thus he speaketh to vowed Virgins: Let us grant, 
S. Ambr ●. 1. the vi●g.  that you must sit down with loss of your patrimony; do not the kingdoms of heaven hereafter recompense the loss of such fickle goods? Though, if we believe the words of Heaven, there is no body that shall have left house, or parents, or brethren, for the name of Christ, that shall not receive much more at these times, & in the world to come life everlasting. Put thy trust in God; thou that trustest man with thy money, put it into God's hands. He like a good keeper of the hope, which we depositate in him, will repay the talon of his trust, with multiplied use. Truth doth not deceive, justice doth not circumvent, Virtue doth not beguile  
5. The force of which reason of S. Ambrose was declared by a heavenly vision which happened to S. Laurence justinian. For it is recorded of him, that when he was about nineteen years of age, at which time youth is most slippery and most in danger, 
The Wisdom of God to 5. Laurence justinian.  as being then upon the bending, our Saviour appeared unto him, in the shape of a Virgin, brighter than the Sun, and with a loving countenance spoke thus unto him: Why dost thou, my young man, thus waste thy hart, & seeking peace, pour out thyself upon many things? that which thou seekest, is in my power to give thee. If thou resolve to have me for thy spouse, I promise thou shalt most certainly have this peace. The young man taken with so admirable beauty, & so large a promise, craved her name, and her descent. She answered: I am the Wisdom of God, which took the shape of man upon me to reform mankind. S. Laurence thereupon replying, that he most willingly took her for his spouse, she kissed him, and with great expression of joy, as he conceived, went her way. And not long after, he betaking himself to a Monastery to effect the marriage which was offered him, found by experience, as we have said, that he was not only no loser by it, but got much more than he had in the world, and things of incomparable price.  

The difficulties of Religion 〈…〉 susterable.  6. This conceit therefore of the greatness of earthly things being removed, we must also banish a certain fear, which some people have, lest the difficulties of a Religious life be unsupportable, and more than the forces of our frail nature are able to bear; or at least, that if a man have so much hart as to abide them, he must needs live a heavy uncouth life; which, to say the truth, is but an idle childish fear. For, as I have showed at large before, we must not so wholly fix our eyes upon that which we see outwardly of Religion (which I must confess is somewhat severe) but that withal we must look into that which is inward, which alleys all the severity, and indeed takes it quite away, and gives a man such inward sweetness, as nothing can be more pleasant than a Religious life, which is one of the arguments, which S. Hierome useth to Heliodorus, writing thus unto him: Dost thou fear poverty? 
S. Hierom. ep. 1.  But Christ saith, the poor are blessed. Doth labour daunt thee? But no Champion is crowned without sweeting for it. Dost thou take thought for meat & drink? but Faith feeleth no hunger. Art thou afraid to bruise against the bare ground thy hollow limbs with fasting? But God lieth with thee. Doth the ill-favoured hair of thy neglected head affright thee? but thy head is Christ.  
7. But what need we stand upon force of reason in a thing, which we may see with our eyes? For partly we read, partly we daily see before us, so many examples of them, 
Experience 〈…〉 it is easy, to live in Religion.  that forsaking the world, have lived, and do this day live in Religion with excessive joy and contentment, as it is wonderful Had they not bodies and souls such as we have? If watching therefore and fasting, the yoke of Obedience, the incommodity of Poverty, finally all kind of labour and pains that can be taken by man, were to them light and delightful, what weakness is it for us alone, to imagine every thing so burdensome, and so intolerable? Had not they the same nature, the same God, no acceptour of persons, father to all, comforter of all? This is the consideration, which in the like exigent holp that great S. Augustin, and absolutely thrust him upon the resolution, 
S. August. 8. Conf. ca 11.  which he took of abandoning the world, and of all those that have been reclaimed from the broad and spacious way to the narrow path of Christ, for aught we find written, none ever went so fearfully to work, and hung upon so many delays, as he did, according to his own relation, writing of these his difficulties and demurs, and of the horror which he had of a new life, in regard of his old customs, which had taken so deep root in him: And yet he overcame them all, as I said, with this thought, how many without number, not only like to himself, but far weaker than he, in regard of their age or sex, went cheerfully through with this kind of life. And these are his words: On that side that I had bend my face to go, and where I trembled to pass, ●here was laid open before me the chaste worthiness of Continency, cheerful, and not dissolutly merry, honestly enticing me to come, & that I should not misdoubt, reaching forth, to receive me & embrace me her pious hands full of whole troops of good examples. There I saw so many boys and girls; there a great deal of youth▪ & all ages, grave widows, & ancient maids; & amidst them all, Continency itself, not bar●en, but a fruitful mother of sons of joys of thee, o Lord, her husband's. And she laughed at me, with a kind of laughter that exhorted me, as who should say: shalt not thou be able to do that which these & these? Or could these and these d●e it of themselves, and not rather in their Lord their God? Whosoever therefore shall find himself in this kind of wand'ring mind, let him set before him, as S. Augustin, this portraiture of Continency and Religion, and under the wings thereof so many thousands of men and women, some of younger, some of elder years, that in the world for the most part lived richly, commodiously, deliciously; and yet afterwards embracing Religious poverty, lived in that strict course of life with great fervour and contentment, and with no less fervour have persevered in it to the end. Whom would not such a sight encourage? yea, whom would it not provoke to put himself also into company to be one of so dear a flock of our Lord, and be glad of it?  
8. We might here lay together many other incitements to this purpose, as the shortness of the life of man, the vanity of all temporal things, the fear of death, the danger of hel-fire, the hope of everlasting rewards in Heaven, the beauty of a Religious course, appearing in the very outward habit, and ga●e, and behaviour of Religious people, whereof sometimes one, sometimes more of them together, have been forcible means to draw people, as in reason they may, from the love of the world to Religion; but I pass to a few examples of them.  
9 We read in the history of the Order of S. Dominick, 
Rowland of the Order of S Dominick.  of a rich noble man, whose name was Rowland, that having spent upon some festival occasion, the whole day in feasting, sporting, and dancing, and other vanities, himself glorious in new and costly apparel; 
The vanities of the world.  at night reflecting upon it, he began to think: Lo, what is become of all this feast we have been at? where is all the jollity of this day? whither is it gone? And weighing with himself, that as that day was gone and passed, so all the rest of our life would pass together with all the happiness and pleasures of it, and that nothing would remain but sorrow and repentance, he betook himself the very next day to Religion; and serving God many years in it, was famous for sanctity & learning. And in the same Order about the same time one Peter Gonzales was renowned both for holiness of life, 
Peter Gonzales.  and learning, who was converted upon a small occasion in show, yet such an one as might plainly show the vanity of the world. 
The deceitfulness of it.  For being nephew to the Bishop of Valentia, and holding many sat Benefices by his means before he was of years for it, and spending the profits of them in vain pleasures and pride; it happened that as he was one day riding like a young gallant with his comforts about the City, he fell into a filthy slow, and being taken-up all wet and miry, the boys of the street laughed at him, and decided him bitterly; and the man was so ashamed, and so angry with himself withal, that he presently fayd within himself: Seing I have served the world, and it hath dealt thus with me, I will deal with it accordingly as it deserves. And at the instant resolved to put himself into the service of God, which not long after he did, to the astonishment of all the City, in the Religious Family which I said. Another was moved to the like course by the fear of hel-fire. 
Hel-fire.  For living loosely in all kind of pleasure, and suffering no man to open his mouth unto him about the reforming of himself; a Religious man going once to see him upon courtesy, 
Esa. 14 11.  at their parting spoke this only sentence of the Prophet: Under thee the moth shall be strewed, and worms shall be thy covering. Which saying struck so deeply into him, that he could think of nothing but worms and moths, and labouring to put so irksome a thought out of his head, by play and other pastimes among his companions, he was rather worse; and thereupon reflecting, that if the bare thinking of that punishment was so unsupportable, how much more untollerable would the punishment itself be? and yielding the field to God, he consecrated himself unto him in Religion.  

The i●yes of Heaven.  10. At Bologna upon the first beginning almost of the Order of S. Dominick, a great learned man was drawn unto it by consideration of the immensity of the joys of heaven. For Reginaldus a principal man of that Order preaching with great concourse and great applause; this man, whose name was Monetus, was wont always to shun his conversation and Sermons, much fearing he should be catched by him. Yet upon a S. Stephen's day being drawn by importunity of some of his acquaintance to a Sermon, he was taken instantly with the very first words. For his text being: Behold, I see the heaven's open, he began to discourse upon it to this effect: That now the gates of heaven were open, and any man might enter it that would, & be happy; But they that should neglect this occasion, & shut their hearts to God, should find also the gates of heaven shut against them, and would never be able to get in. The man needed no more; for his hart being changed suddenly, though before he was much averted from a Religious life, he purposed to enter into Religion; and when the Sermon was ended he went to Reginald, & opened his mind unto him, and moreover made a vow, that he would effect it.  
11. No less admirable was that which happened to one Andrew; who▪ as we read, was famous in the Cistertian Order. For, being Archdeacon of Virdun, 
Andrew Archdeacon of Virdun.  nobly borne and wealthy, he came to Clairenaux, that he might be an eye-witness of the virtues of th● house, of which he had heard so much, it being then but newly begun; not having the least thought himself to take upon him any such course. But entering into the Chapterhouse (where all the Religious were met) to the end to commend himself to their prayers, 
Beauty of Religion.  and beholding the order, and silence, and as it were the Angelical, habit of that holy assembly, he was very much moved at it; & the spirit of God seizing his heart, was wholly changed into another man, & inflamed with such a desire of embracing that course, that he resolved not so much as to delay time to go home for a while, either to bid his acquaintance farewel, or to dispose of his means, but presently breaking with all the world, he forsook all instantly to adhere to Christ.  

S. Nicolas Tolentin.  12. S. Nicolas Tolentin was in like manner changed upon a different occasion. For an Augustin-Friar preaching in the open streets upon those words of S. john: Do not love this world, 
Dangers of the world.  nor the things which are in the world: and discoursing at large, and with much vehemency, of the vanity and dangers of the world, this Nicolas being then a young man, 
1. john. 2 15.  and standing there by chance, was so inflamed with this discourse, that resolving to leave the world, he went presently to the Monastery with the Preacher, so soon as he had ended his Sermon.  
13. Many like effects hath our Lord and Saviour wrought in our days, & doth daily work among men. One of our Society was moved to forsake the world, to which he was much engaged in affection, 
Eternity.  by a thought of Eternity. For thus he discoursed with himself: Between that which is limited, & that which is infinite, there is no proportion; & consequently not only one life which a man hath, but though he had many lives, if it were possible, it were nothing in comparison of the eternal rewards.  
14. Another, that while he lived in the world was a great Lawyer, & took much pains in his Clients causes, 
Difference of rewards.  at last resolved thus with himself: Seing a man must labour and take pains in this life, it is much better to take pains for God, who rewardeth his servants so bountifully, then for the world, where oftimes we have no reward at all, or a very small and short recompense. Upon which consideration he presently entered into our Society.  
15. But that which happened to Father Claudius Aquaviua, 
Claudius' Aquaviua.  General of the Society, was more notable. He was moved to forsake the world by those words of our Saviour: My sheep hear my voice; 
Io. 10.16.  for withal he was seized with a holy fear, lest if he should not give ear to the heavenly counsel, he should not be one of Christ's sheep; and therefore came the same hour, and almost at the same instant, to our Fathers, and gave himself wholly unto them. No less remarkable was the motive, upon which Francis Borgia, 
B. Fa. Borgia.  another General of our Order, came to the Society. For while he was Duke of Gandie, and in great credit with every body, it happened, that he was appointed by the Emperor Charles the fifth, to accompany the body of the Lady Isabel lately deceased, wife to the said Emperor. In which journey there falling out some occasion to have the coffin opened to view the dead corpse, he seeing it now turned to corruption, and the worms swarming about it, and gnawing it, presently began to reflect with himself, to what all the power and glory of that woman was come, whose very countenance, while she lived, kept the world in awe, and how little difference death makes betwixt a Prince and the poorest creature that is. And this consideration of the sicklenes of all flesh wrought so in his mind, that he left his Dukedom, & embraced an humble Religious life.  
16. All these and infinite more, 
Two general motives.  whom it were long to rehearse, both of late years and ancienter times, some for one cause, and some for another, have been moved to Religious courses: But all the motives, which they have had, may be reduced to two heads, which it is fit we should know, and have always before our eyes, to wit, the misery of this world, and the happiness of a Religious life. And what infinite miseries doth the misery of this world involve? On the other side, this one happiness of Religion, what number of happinesses without number doth it comprehend? The world & all the hopes & proffers of it pass away, & we from them. What greater madness therefore can there be, then to resolve to perish with that which perisheth? What greater wisdom, then betimes to forsake that which sooner or later must be forsaken? specially seeing, if we forsake it voluntarily of our own accord, we shall have the honour of having forsaken it, and inestimable rewards beside for doing so; whereas if we attend till it be taken from us, we may well look oftimes for punishment, 
S Gregory hom. ●an Euang.  but certainly shall have no rewards. Which blindness of ours S. Gregory taxeth in these words: Our proud mind will not yet willingly part with that, which daily it loseth, whether it will or no.  
17. For the time will come, and it will not be long, when thou that art now a young man, in the flower of thy years, strong and able of body, and, as thou conceavest, happy, drunk (as I may say) notwitstanding with ambition, with desire of honour & preferments, with the fauo●● & good will of men, with the sweetness of earthly pleasures, shalt lie nailed to a couch, scorched with a burning fever, consumed to the bone with grief & pain, in the midst of the tears of thy kindred, of the sorrows & lamentations of thy wife & children, which now thou takest so much pleasure in thinking to get, every moment expecting the last hour, when body and soul shall be separated one from the other. Of what opinion dost thou imagine thou wilt then be? what grief, what anguish, what torment will pessesse thee, when thou shalt see, that heaven is utterly lost, because in this life thou didst neglect it; and now must lose this world, which thou didst so much affect? Think therefore betimes of that hour, set that day often before thine eyes, and do 〈◊〉 that, which at that time, which possibly cannot be avoided, thou wouldst wish thou had 〈…〉 What wilt thou (saith the Prophet) in the way of Egypt, 
Hier. 2.18.  to drink muddy water? and what hast thou with the way of Assyrians, 
Difference of the pleasures of the world, and of Religion.  to drink the water of the river? What is this way of Egypt, or of the Assyrians, but the way of the world? where pleasures slide away like the current of any river, and are moreover dirty & muddy, choked with earth, and grounded but in earthly things. How unworthy a thing is it for the soul of man, descended from heaven, and borne to heavenly things, a soul bought and washed with the sacred blood of the lining God, & made more white than snow in that heavenly bath, to plunge itself in such muddy streams, having at hand such fountains of living wa●er, springing to life everlasting? the pleasures, & delights, I say, of a Religious life; pleasures that are chaste, unspotted, undefiled; pleasures which here delight and spring-up to life everlasting, because the delight which we have in them, doth not diminish but increase our reward in the life to come, in regard it makes us more cheerfully apply ourselves to the service of our God. 
The greatness of the Hundred fold.  It hath at hand the Hundred-fold promised us by our Saviour, as the provision for our charges, during this our pilgrimage, the solace of our present labour, the earnest-penny and pledge of our future rewards. And what hath the world comparable to this Hundred-fold, seeing certainly this is a hundred times beyond it, be it never so great? Wherefore, if to live contentedly, to live pleasantly, to live happily, be our desire, why do we seek it elsewhere, but where Christ our Saviour, where Truth itself doth tell us, it is to be had? If a man should promise us of worldly gain, twenty or somewhat more for one, it would not be long before we should put all the money we have, into his hand, & moreover sell all to make money of it, to the end to place it so profitably; and yet the man in whom we repose our trust, is a man, and may deceive us, he may alter his mind, he may lose all & become bankrupt; But whom did God ever deceive, or how can he possibly deceive any man, or grow less than his word? sooner will he leave to be God, than one jot or one tittle of his promises shall be void.  

S. Ber. hom. Ecce nos.  18. S. Bernard therefore had great reason to say: In the mean time, from whence soever they are to receive a hundred-fold, so it be a hundred-fold, so it be worth a hundred times as much, let it please, let it delight, let it comfort, and be loved a hundred times more than any thing else. What madness is it for men to be backward in forsaking one for a hundred? where is the covetous? where is the ambitious? where is the disputer of this world? what? Is the covetousness of men asleep, and grown cold in matter of assured negotiation, and most gainful marts? what Iew wouldst thou refuse in this kind, o man, that hast received the name of our Lord JESUS CHRIST in vain? To what sacrilegious person, wouldst thou refuse to give all that thou hast, for a hundred times as much? Strange news! but coming from him, that makes all things new; A man takes up a yoke, and finds rest; leaveth all, and hath a hundred-fold.  

People do not bel●e●e 〈…〉 our Saviour.  19 And doubtless, the true consideration of this hundred-fold, and of the immensity of the rewards which we report, were able to make a man run into the fire to purchase it, much more to Poverty and Obedience. But if people, notwithstanding such gains and such rewards as are offered them upon the forsaking of their worldly wealth and substance, will choose rather to remain with it, what follows? but that either we must say, they care not for gain, which cannot be, seeing naturally men love themselves and their profit excessively, or call this recompense of a hundred-fold in question, which is the only thing which can be said, and which Aegidius (that famous man, one of the first disciples of S. Francis, and one whom he loved entirely for his great sanctity) charged a secular Doctor with. 
Aegidius.  For, putting this question unto him: Dost thou believe, that the rewards are great, which God hath prepared for them that love him and serve him? And the Doctor answering, that he did believe it: But I will show thee, saith Aegidius, that thou dost not believe it. How much art thou worth? A thousand crowns, said the man. If therefore (replied Aegidius) thou couldst place these thousand crowns so as presently to have a hundred thousand for them, wouldst not thou instantly employ thy money that way? seeing therefore thou dost not employ it so, it is evident, that thou dost not believe Christ's promises. Thus did Aegidius argue to the point.  
19 And thus much of the loss and diminishing of our gains; 
Many cannot be saved, unless they enter into Religion.  which, considering the business concerns eternity, is of great importance. But it is much more important, and more heavy, and miserable, that besides the loss they run hazard of eternal damnation; first by reason of the general danger, which all men are in, that live a secular life, as I have showed at large in the course of this Treatise; and secondly, by reason of the particular hazard, which this man or the other may be in, in regard that perhaps for his particular there is no way to be saved, but in Religion; and unless he take that course, he shall undoubtedly perish; which I do not speak of my own head, but it is a document of S. gregory's in his Epistle to the Emperor Mauritius, 
S. Greg lib. 2. r●gist. Ep. 6.  where reprehending him for a Proclamation which he had caused to be set forth, forbidding ceratin kind of people to become Monks, he telleth him, his law is unjust, because many may be shut out of heaven by it; and gives this reason: for though many may live uprightly in the world, yet (saith he) there be many, who unless they forsake all, cannot by any means in the sight of God be saved. Which saying of so holy and so advised a man, as S. Gregory was, ought in reason to make great impression in us; for every one may justly fear himself, and hath no cause, why he should not fear, lest he be of the number; and specially they that either admit not of the vocation of God, or having entertained his holy inspirations, fly off again from them. For this ingratitude towards so good a God, is that great offence, which S. Bernard termeth a Scorching wind, 
S. Bern s●r. 51. in Cant.  drying up the fountain of piety, the dew of mercy, the streams of grace. And if we consider the manner of proceeding, which God is wont to hold, as himself giveth us to understand, we shall think no less; for he doth not only withhold his bountiful hand from them, that do not increase and multiply that grace which they have received of him, but taketh from them that which he had given them before; and maketh good his own saying in the Gospel: 
●uc. 19 16.  To him that hath, it shall be given, and he shall abound; and from him that hath not, even that which he had, shall be taken from him.  
20. But the beauty and dignity and comeliness of a Religious life, 
All men desire perfection.  is of far greater consideration, and aught much more to move us to embrace it: specially if we compare it with the crookedness, or (as we may well say, considering most men's behaviours) the foulness and il-favourdnes of the world, as light with darkness. For Religion, as it professeth and maketh a show, is indeed a state of perfection: And what is better, and more sought after in the world, than perfection? We make so great account of a complete house, of a horse that is perfectly well made, of a tree that is finely grown, that we are never weary of looking upon it, never think we can sufficiently commend it. How much ought we in reason admire the soul of man, which of itself is so perfect a thing? But adding moreover the perfection of virtue and sanctity, which it hath in Religion, it is doubtless so perfectly beautiful, and so comely, that nothing upon earth can be compared with it, nothing deserve more love and esteem. In which respect S. Hierome had reason to say, 
S Hierome ●p. 34.  as he did, to a noble man, whom he laboured to persuade to forsake the world, and pressed him in these words: But thou wilt say, this is an Apostolical dignity, and belongeth to him that will be perfect. And why wilt not thou also be perfect? why shouldst not thou be the first in the family of Christ, that art first in the world? And indeed it is a wonder, how men that so much desire to have all things, which are without them, of the perfectest and compleatest that can be gotten, should notwithstanding not only not desire the perfection of their own mind, which doth so far excel the other both in worth, and profit, and importance, but neglect it, and oftimes not so much as look after it, when they may easily purchase it. When thou art to buy a farm, saith, S. Augustin, thou seekest a good one; to marry a wife, thou choosest a good one; 
S. Aug. de verb Dom. ser. 16.  when thou wouldst have children, thou wouldst have them good; If thou be to buy hose and shoes, thou wilt have no i'll ones: and dost thou love an evil life? What hath thy life offended thee, which alone thou wilt have to be i'll, that among all thy goods, thyself be only evil?  
21. By which also we may see, how little ground they have, that willing to decline a Religious vocation, 
Another fallacy answered.  excuse themselves by saying: God hath commanded no such thing, but left it free every body's choice; if he embrace it, it is well; if he do not, there is no offence committed. Which foolish and inconsiderate kind of Argument, a father of our Society, well experienced in spiritual things, once answered home, and to the purpose. For assisting a Doctor of Divinity in the Spiritual Exercises, and the Doctor feeling himself called by God to Religion, and labouring notwithstanding to avoid it by this kind of fallacy, the Father put him this case: Tell me, saith he, if you were of force to sail into the Indies, and among many ships that were ready to go the voyage, some better, some worse, the Admiral of the Fleet should invite you into his own ship, new, strongly built, well provided of all things, sails, cables, Pilot, mariners of the best, would you refuse his courtesy, and cast yourself into a weatherbeaten vessel, rotten, and unprovided of tackling and all other furniture? or would you not rather with many thanks accept of it, or perhaps yourself entreat him, and press him to admit of you? Much more therefore, to avoid the shipwreck of your soul, which is a loss eternal, ought you to choose that state, which may carry you safe, and in the more assurance, through the dangerous and rocky seas of this world. Nothing more clear and evident; and accordingly the Doctor conceiving of it, and convinced with the truth, without further demur, put himself into our Society.  
22. But let us suppose for a while, that theve is no such danger in the world, as we speak of; suppose a man be certain to go to heaven, is it not better notwithstanding to labour not only to come to heaven, but to have as much glory in it as possibly we can? For if, for example, a man should offer thee pewter or silver, 
They that sow sparingly shall reap sparingly.  or silver and gold, to choose what thou thinkst good, wouldst thou make any question what to choose? or wouldst thou content thyself with a revenue of two or three hundred yearly, if a hundred thousand were presented thee? Seeing therefore there is no gain so small, which men do not make great account of in the world, and greedily lay hold of it when it is offered; what blindness is it, when thou mayst be rich in that heavenly glory, that is, purchase many degrees of it, great measure of joy, plenty of eternal felicity, to choose, as I may say, rather eternal poverty? and sowing here sparingly, order thy business so, as when thou comest to heaven, 
2. Cor. 9.6.  if ever thou come thither, thou reap also sparingly?  
23. Let us give ear to what the Apostle, or rather our Lord by the Apostle speaketh to all: 
1. Cor. 7.19.  The time is short; it remaineth that they also, who have wi●es, be as though they had not; and they that rejoice, as though they rejoiced not; and they that buy, as though they possessed not; and they that use this world, as though they used it not: 
It is better to be without the things of this world, seeing we cannot use them as we wil  for the figure of this world passeth away. What doth all this mean, but that, though it be free for every body to keep what he hath, it is not free for every body to use it as he lift? He must use it so, as his hart be not set upon it; he must use it, as a means only to pass this life; so as to be content to part with it, if God be pleased to take it from him; and also ready of himself to cast it away, when the glory of Almighty God shall so require; to be short, he must use it as if he did not use it. This is the manner set down by the Apostle, and extendeth itself to all things, to wife, children, lands, goods, money, honour, and all things. If therefore the case be thus, if these be the conditions, upon which we may possess the goods of this world, how much better is it not to have them, then to have the use of them with so many restraints? For first, it is much easier not to set our affection upon them when we have them not, then to have them and not to affect them. Secondly, there is also more contentment in it; for to be always curbing our affections in that which we have always before our eyes, is extreme violent, and consequently cannot last long; and for the time that it doth last, it must needs bring us into a continual war and debate with ourselves, wonderful difficult & laborious to go through with; which difficulty they do not find, who free themselves from the matter that feeds this contentment.  
24. And all this belongs to the loss which they that refuse to yield to God, when he calleth them to Religion, 
The offence and affront which 〈◊〉 in refusing God when he calls.  & offereth them so many treasures as a Religious vocation containeth, draw upon themselves, merely because they will follow the vanities & liberty of this world. Let us consider now, what wrong, what offence it is to God. First, they draw back from God, whose they are wholly, all that they are; He created & made them for himself; he bought them, as the Apostle saith, a● a great price; finally, not to repeat all titles, they stand engaged unto him by the promise which they made in Baptism, when they were delivered over into his service, and, as it were, sworn his soldiers. To withdraw themselves therefore from him, and resolve to be at their own dispose, is as it were to take away a slave, or any thing else from another man; which at least is theft.  
24. And though the case were not thus, yet doubtless it is an affront. when invited so often and so earnestly to his friendship and familiarity, we refuse it, and neglect his proffers and promises, as if they were not worth the taking up, or were uncertain. Great men of this world think themselves much wronged, if upon their entreaty they should be refused. But there is no danger in it, they seldom press a courtesy so far upon any man; people must rather seek to them for favour, and entreat hard to be admitted in their service, and use all the means they can to insinuate themselves into their good wills. God only is left alone, and neglected, with all his promises and invitations, though he be far greater than any Prince, and make larger offers. A thing to be lamented in the highest degree! And what then shall we think of the offence which is in it? As before I showed, that it is a heinouses sin, to go back from Religion, when we have once undertaken to follow Christ in it: so they come not far short of it, that contemn the voice and counsel of God, when he calleth them to Religion. For, setting aside the obligation which Religious people have above others by the vow and promise which they make, the injury (which is that which we now speak of) and the affront, is in a manner alike, to break friendship, and to refuse to be friends, when friendship is offered: as there is not much difference in the disobedience, when a man leaves to do his Prince's will after he hath begun to do it, and when he resolves never to begin. And consequently, as there we showed. how God doth in a manner always manifest his high displeasure against the first, that forsake him, the like we may expect and make account of in this. And that which we read in the Psalm, doth justly and in very truth fall upon them, that because they would not blessing, it shall be set far from them; and because they loved malediction, it shall befall them, and shall be put upon them like a garment, and enter like water into their inner parts, 
Ps. 108.17.  and as oil into their bones. That also which the justice of God threateneth in the book of Wisdom, is fulfilled in them: I called, and you refused; I held out my hand, and there was not he that would look; you despised all my counsel, and neglected all my rebukes. What punishment therefore belongeth to such a fault? It followeth: 
Pro. 1.24.  I also will laugh in your dectruction, and scorn, when that shall happen, which you feared.  

Examples of them that have been punished for refusing to answer their vocation.  25. The effect of which rigorous denunciation appeareth in that which S. Antonine recordeth of one that had made a vow to be a Franciscan-Friar; but afterwards changing his mind, became a Prebend; and not many months passed, but he fell deadly sick; and being put in mind by them that belonged unto him, to think of setting his soul in order by a good Confession, he answered: There was no need, because showed unto him that he was damned; & therefore they should trouble him no more, because he could not Confess. For our Lord, saith he, 
S. Anton 3. part. ut. 14. l. 9 §. 7.  appeared unto me very angry, saying: I called thee, and thou refusedst; therefore get the gone to the torments of Hell; and with that he gave up the ghost. A woeful and most lamentable end.  
26. With another in like danger, it fell out better. For having had a purpose, while he was a young man, 
A youth repreeved by the intercession of S. james. Anton. 2. part. tit. 17. c. 1. §. 2.  to enter among the Monks of the Cistertian Order (and yet he had made no vow) differing it from day to day, he grew cold in it; and returning home from a pilgrimage which he had made to Compostella, that very night our Saviour appeared unto him with his two Apostles, S. Peter and S. james. S. Peter held in hand before our Saviour a dainty book open, in which the name of the young man, which was john, was written; our Saviour therefore said to S. Peter: Blot this man out of my book. S. Iame● began earnestly to beg for him, as for a Pilgrim of his, and took upon him, that the youth should reform himself. The youth seeing that the matter concerned himself, was in a great agony; and trembling with fear, made great promises, that he would begin a new life. But our Saviou seeming not to trust him by reason of his former inconstancy, asked, who would give his word for him? and S. james offered himself. With which the youth awaking, and being much astonished at it, yet fell asleep again, and the same vision appeared the second time unto him, and moreover he spied in the book this instruction out of the Canticles: We will make thee chames of gold enamelled with silver. Heartened therefore on the one side with this joyful promise, and frighted on the other with those threats, 
Cant. 1.11.  he presently went to Cisteau●x, where profiting exceedingly in virtue, he was created Abbot of Bonavalle, and afterwards Bishop of Valence.  
27. In the Chronicles of the Franciscans we read, that about the year 1350. a Scholar of Paris having purposed to enter into that Order, and gone so far as to cause his Habit to be made ready, altered his mind. Not long after in the night, he saw as if our Saviour were sitting on a Throne of great majesty to judge; 
Another taken to mercy, and yet chastised. S Anton. 3. part. ut. 24. c. ●. §. 7.  whereupon with remorse of conscience he began to cry out: Have mercy upon me, o Lord; and our Saviour answered: I will have mercy, so as thou perform what thou didst intend. And he most willingly promising that he would, he was notwithstanding by the Devil cast into a Copper full of boiling oil and pitch, and felt himself in such grievous torment with it, as if his flesh had been torn from his bones; and awaking with the anguish, he instantly with great zeal betook himself to a Religious life. What shall I say of Gerard brother to S. Bernard, whose fact was in two respects very memorable? For obstinately rejecting the good admonitions, which S. Bernard gave him about forsaking the world, as being in the flower of his youth, and hot upon the wars where he had new begun to serve, 
A bro●er of S. Bernard.  S. Bernard pointing at his side, said unto him with a Prophetical spirit: The day will come, and that quickly, when a spear thrust into this side, 
Vu. S Bern. l. 1. c. 3.  will open thy breast to the wholesome counsels, to which now it is shut. And it happened so. For within few days after, wounded in that very place of his body, and taken by the enemy in a skirmish, remembering what his brother had foretold him, he cried out, that he was a Monk of Cisteaux. They carry him notwithstanding away, and put him in prison; where tormented with grief, that he could not go to Ci●●●au● with the rest of his Brethren, one day he saw his irons were fallen off, and the prison-gates were open: and every body fled, that might either have stayed him or discovered him; whereupon he fled to the next Church, and from thence to the Monastery, desirous of th●● holy course, and confirmed withal in his desire by so la●e and so strange a miracle. By which example, as I said, we see, both how dear it costs them, that resist the holy-ghost, and how easy all things are to them, that resolve to follow his Divine instinct.  

A vision of his concerning two of his company. In vi●. S. Bernard.  28. I cannot omit that which was showed to the some S. Bernard, concerning two of his Companions about the same time. For having by his exhortations encouraged many of his brethren, and friends, and kindred, to forsake the world; before that holy troop met together at Cisleaux, he thought one day he saw them all sitting in one room, and every one in their turn eating of one kind of dish of meat, which was white and wonderful savoury; and while the rest fed upon it with great contentment, two only of the whole company fasted; one of them did not eat at all of it, the other eat a little, but presently cast it up again. The event showed the meaning of the vision; for one of the number withdrew himself from among them, before they brought their purpose to effect; the other began with the rest, but continued not long: and it was particularly observed, that though the man was well borne, and had good friends, all forsook him, and he came to great misery, wand'ring about the world, like another Cain, cast forth from the face of God.  

Another that dela●ed his entrance.  29. The same S. Bernard relateth another terrible example in this kind, in an Epistle which he wrote unto one Thomas of S. Omers, who was delaying his entrance into Religion, because he would make an end of his studies. To put him off therefore from this delay, he tells him, how another was punished for the like fault. 
S. Bernard Ep. 108.  Alas, alas, saith he, thou seemest to walk with the like spirit, as thy name is like to another Thomas, anciently Provost of Be●erlee, who having vowed himself with all his hart to our Order and to our House, began to take time, and so by little to grow cold, till suddenly taken away with a fearful death, he died a secular man, and a transgressor, and doubly the son of Hel-fire. Which, if it be possible, God, who is merciful and full of compassion, preserve him from.  
30. Examples of this nature are frequent in all ages, and in these our days; and we ourselves have seen diverse with our own eyes, and do at this hour see many, that rejecting the good purposes which God put into their mind of entering into Religion, have themselves been rejected by God, and fallen into extremity of misery, and a world of misfortunes. Wherefore though we cannot propose a more forcible consideration to them that are inclining this way, or taking advice in i●, 
Exhortations of holy Fathers to Religion  then that which we have hitherto discoursed, of the dangers which they see they may fall into; yet to draw to a Conclusion, we will set down a few passages of the holy Fathers, exhorting such people to their duty; for not only the solidness of their discourse, but the bare sign of their judgement and inclination in this kind, ought greatly to sway with every body.  
31. Let us therefore see, how S. Fulgen●ius did animate himself to renounce the world. 
The conversion of S Fulgentius; and how he encouraged 〈…〉. Vid Sur in 〈◊〉 vita. To. 1.  He was descended of a worshipful family, and being in his time hold one of the fortunatest men that were for wea●ch, learning, dignity in the Commonwealth, multitudes of C●ieres, flourishing years and the like, amidst all these prosperous winds, he began first, as it is re●●●ed of him, to think the burden of those secular businesses ext●●●●ely heavy, to distaste the vanity of that kind of happiness, to repay●e oftener to Religious houses, to take pleasure in conversing with the servants of God, to frame himself to their behaviour and exercises. He saw they had no worldly mi●●● among them, and yet were free from the troubles and tediousnesses, which are so frequent in the world. They ●ued lovingly like brethren toge●ther, no debate, no misreport, no contention was stirring among them; and so m●nie young men in the flower of their age living chaste and pu●e. Which when he had often reflected upon, and duly weighed, he broke forth into these wo●ds worthy of eternal memory: Why, I beseech you, do we labour in this world without hope of the goods to come? what can the world finally do for us? If we des●re mir●h (though good tea●es be better than evil joys) yet how much better do they rejoice, that have a quiet conscience in God, that fear nothing but sin, that do nothing but what God commandeth? They are not ioyled with common businesses, nor have cause either woefully to bewail, or basely to fear loss of temporal goods; and having forsaken their own, they practise not for that which is another's; among themselves they live peaceably, sober, meek, humble, loving; there is no thought of lust, but care and continual custody of chastity. Let us imitate therefore men that are so worthy, and take upon us this constant kind of good life; let us make use of that, which by the instinct of grace we have deserved to acknowledge to be the better; let us shake off our wont behaviour, and make an exchange of our pains and labours. We strived before among noble friends to be thought more noble; let us now endeavour among the poor servants of God to be the poorest. So he said, and so he did, all Carthage admiring and extolling his fact, many also imitating him and ●●lling Monasteries with the abundance of them that were converted.  
32. Thus S. Fulgentius animated himself. 
The exhortation of S. Augustin to Lic●●●ius.  S. Augustin held the like discourse to Licen●ius, a witty young man, enticing him to the sweet yoke of CHRIST, and among many other things he speaketh thus: I see, what a disposition and what a wit, it is not in my power, to apprehend and sacrifice to my God. If thou hadst found a golden cup upon the ground, thou wouldst give it to the Church of God; 
Epist. 41.  thou hast 〈◊〉 of God a will spiritually golden, & dost thou serve thy lusts with it, and drink thyself to Satan out of it? Give ear to this, you that bestow your wi●s and learning, and other natural parts in secular vanities, in hunting after the honours and vainglory of the world, and know, that it is to employ the gifts of God in the service of the enemy of God. 
S. Basi●●●●hortation. ●im 52.  Give care to this eloquent discourse of S. Basil upon the same subject: O man! we invite thee to life; why dost thou shun●e this invitation? to the participation of good things, why dost thou neglect the offer? The kingdom of heaven is open; he that calleth thee, is no liar; the way is easy; there needs no time, no cost, no labour to pass it. Why dost thou stand? why dost thou hold back? why dost thou fear the yoke, as a young steer that h●th no● been broken? It is good, it is light, it doth not gall the neck, but honour it; put thy wild head under i● become a beast of Christ, lest leaving this yoke, and living a loose life, thou expose thyself to be torn by wild beasts. Taste, and see, that our Lord is sweet. How shall I be able to express the sweetness of honey to them, that know it not? Taste of it, and see.  

S. Greg. 6. R●g. Ep. 109  33. S. Gregory also hath a fine exhortation to one Andrew, a noble man, to draw him to the service of Christ, from the service of the Emperor, to which he was pretending: Why dost thou not consider, may noble son, that the world is at an end? Every thing daily hasteneth away: we are going to give-in our accounts to the eternal and terrible judge; what therefore should we think of else, but of his coming? For our life is like to one that is at sea; he that is at sea, stands, and sits, and lies, and goes, because he is carried with the motion of the ship: So are we, whether we wake, or sleep, or speak, or hold our peace, or walk, will we nile we, by moments daily we go to our end. When therefore the day of our end shall come, where shall we find that, which now we seek for with so much care, that which we gather with so much solicitude? We must not seek after honours and wealth, which must be once forsaken; but if we seek good things, let us love them, which we shall have without end; and if we fear evil things, let us fear them, which the reprobate suffer without end. The very being in a Prince his service, what business doth it draw the mind into, for the desire which we have of earthly favour? and into what fears, lest we lose this favour when once we have got it? Consider therefore, what torment it is, to be moiled now with desires of prosperity, and then to be appalled with the fear of adversity. Wherefore I would rather advise, that your Excellency would endeavour to live in your ancient purpose, for this small time, in some delightsome retirement of this peregrination, and lead a quiet & peaceable life, attend to the reading of holy books, meditate upon the heavenly words, inflame yourself with the love of Eternity. To live thus, is even now to be partaker of the eternal life. This I say unto you, my noble son, because I love you much. And because you are putting yourself into that, which will be like waves and tempests to your hart, I labour to draw you back to the shore by the cables of my words: and if you vouchsafe to follow him that draweth you, you will see when you be on the shore of the quiet, what dangers you have escaped, what joys you have met with.  

S. Bernard's admonition.  34. Let us add an excellent saying of S. Bernard. For speaking of the dignity of Poverty, which maketh us Kings, which receiveth others into the eternal tabernacles, and doth not only not seek that others should patronise and defend it, but defendeth others, speaketh as followeth of the vanity of this world: 
S. Bernard Ep. 103.  But would to God thou wouldst attend without dissembling, with what manner of things thou dost hinder thyself! Woe, woe. That which shutteth up the passage to eternal felicity, that which hideth the boundless clarity of everlasting light, that which deceiveth thee of the knowledge of all things, that which depriveth thee of the honour of highest preferment, is a vapour appearing for a while. How long wilt thou proffer before such a glory the hay, that to day is, & to morrow is cast into the oven? flesh (I say) and the glory thereof. For all flesh is hay, and all the glory thereof as the flower of hay. If thou be wise, if thou have a hart, if thy eyes be in thy head, leave to follow that, which to overtake, is miserable. Were it not better to contemn it with honour, then lose it with grief? Is it not more wisdom to yield to the love of Christ, then to death? A thief lies in ambush, from whose hands thou canst not steal thyself, nor thine. He cannot be foreseen, because like a thief in the night, so he shall come. Thou brought'st nothing into the world; doubtless neither shalt thou carry any thing away. Thou shalt sleep thy sleep, and find nothing in thy hands.  
35. Thus saith S. Bernard in that Epistle; 
Idom ser. 38. in Cant.  but he layeth yet more load in a sermon upon the Canticles, showing that all delay in this kind, is a kind of Infidelity: I say, that all they know not God, that will not be conue●ted to God; for doubtless they have no other reason to refuse, but because ●hey imagine he is stern and severe, who indeed is gentle: they imagine him ha●e and implacable, that is merciful; fierce and terrible, who is amiable; and iniquity lieth to itself, framing an Idol to itself, for that which is not he. What is that which you fear, you of little faith? that he will not forgive sins? But he hath nailed them to the Cross with his own hands. 
Coloss. 2. ●4. Psa ●0●. ●4. Psa 145 8.  That you are yet young and tender? But he knows our mould. That you are il-bred, and bound in customs of sins? But our Lord looseth them that are in fetters. Perhaps least provoked with the enormity and multitude of sins, he be slow in reaching out his helping hand? 
Rom. 5.20.  But where sin aboundeth, Grace also is wont to more abound. Are you solicitous for appartel, or food, or other necessaries for your body, and therefore loath to forsake that which you have? 
Mat. 6.32.  But he knows that you stand in need of all these. What will you more? what doth now hinder you from salvation? Thus far S. Bernard.  
Finally let us hear how S. Laurence justinian doth labour to draw all men from the vanity of this world, 
S. Laur. justin do perfect. Mon. Can. 2.  to the quiet of Religion; these are his words: O prevaricatours, return to your hart; reclaim yourselves from your ways, lest after a while you perish for ever. Restrain your hearts that they go not after their concupiscences, lest at some time or other death seize upon you, and there be no body to rescue you; sell that which you possess, that with this happy exchange you may purchase heavenly glory. Give Christ that which you must leave to the world; send your goods before you, that in time of necessity they may be restored unto you multiplied. Renounce the world voluntarily, lest you be constrained to go out of it with sorrow. Make a virtue of necessity, and after this life you shall receive an eternal kingdom. Consider their end, that have gone before you, and would needs live as you do▪ They flourished in the world, they abounded in wealth, they gave themselves to all kind of pleasure, they led their days in good things, 
job. 21.13.  and in a moment they descended to ●el: They rejoiced for a short time, and are condemned to eternal death. It happeneth not so to them that serve God, that have given their souls for Christ, and under the command of their teacher, have crucified their wills without respite. Rich men, saith the Prophet, 
Psal. 33. 1●.  have wanted and been hungry; but they that seek God, shall not fail of all good.  
But if there be any whom so many reasons, 
The invitation which our Saviour ma● 〈◊〉  so many authorities of holy Fathers, so many examples are not forcible enough to convince; let them give ●a●e to the sweet exhortation which our Saviour himself makes unto them, that if they stoop not to men, they may yield at least to God. What therefore doth he say? Come unto me all you that labour and are loaden, and I will refresh you. These words saith S. Basil, 
Mat. 11. ●8. S. Basil▪ de abdi▪ sacul●.  are the words of God, which whether they signify the refreshing in this life in which now we are, or in the life to come, it is evident, they exhort us, that casting off the burden of riches, and distributing it among the poor, to the end to blot out by almsdeeds and Confession, the innumerable multitude of sins, which lie heavy upon us by the desire of riches, we betake ourselves to the life of Monks, to carry our Crosse. Wherefore he that hath resolved to obey Christ, & maketh haste to a life naked of the possession of all things, and not distracted with the cares of this world, he is truly admirable and to be accounted happy. Thus saith S. Basil upon those words of our Saviour.  
It behoveth us therefore diligently to ponder this heavenly Oracle, as spoken to ourselves, and of ourselves; and that we may do it to the greater comfort of our souls, let us take it, not as out of a dumb paper, but as it fell from his Sacred mouth that was Truth and Love itself; and represent to our Consideration his most sacred person, infinitely worthy of all love and veneration, as anciently he was seen upon earth, and conversed with men, poor, and humble in outward show, contemptible, and the son of a Carpenter: yet truly the son of God, and himself true God, supporting all things with the word of his power, in whom are all treasures. 
Heb. 1.3.  It is he, that like a loving father burning with true love of our souls, inflamed with desire of our eternal welfare and salvation, crieth out aloud to all, and as it were mounted upon a high chair, preacheth unto us in these words: Come unto me all you that labour, 
Mat. 11. ●  and are burdened, and I will refresh you: Take upon you my yoke, and you shall find rest to your souls: for my yoke is sweet, and my burden light; as if he should say in larger terms; sons of men, how long will you be heavie-harted? how long will you have your eyes upon vanities and false madness? Wherefore consume ye yourselves with foolish labour, seeking joy and content of mind in false riches and vain honours of this world? All this is but a burden and affliction of spirit, not rest and refreshing. The effect of all, is anguish while you desire them, labour while you seek them, care and infinite solicitude, while you possess them. You that labour under this heavy charge, and are loaded with this dangerous burden, cast it off and come to me. For when was it i'll with you, while you were with me, or well without me? Behold the devil and the world call upon you; I on the other side do invite you. The world calls to infect you, the devil to kill you, and as a Wolf to worry and destroy you. Where do I call you, but to refresh you? I will refresh you with that inward food that shall fill your desires, quench your thirst, and give your hart that ease, that you will desire no more. For with me are the pastures of life, in me true pleasure, and the delightful ref●●ction of the mind. Come therefore to me, and take my yoke yourselves upon you, I say, take't yourselves; I command no man, I force it upon no man; It must be taken voluntarily: and Humility and Obedience are the virtues which make men stoop unto it.  

Luc. 14.19.  The world also hath a yoke, and not one only, but five yokes, rugged and heavy, and void of the rewards of eternity. Wherefore do you rather make choice of this servitude, so hard, so unsufferable, so manifold, then in my serui●e which is true freedom, to swim in all plenty of delights and comforts? My yo●k, I conf●●s●, is a yoke, but sweet; a burden, but light. Without a yoke, without a burden, you cannot come to the joys which are everlasting; The way is narrow which leadeth to life, 
Mat. 7.14. Luc. 24.26.  and it behoved the king of glory to suffer, and so to enter into his glory. But what soever this tribulation be, it is momentary, and the plentifulness of my house makes it light and sweet. 
Deut. 37.33. Esa. 10.27.  These are the works which I daily work▪ I bring water out of the rock, and oil out of the hardest stone; I make this yoke rot from the face of oil, the oil of that gladness, with which myself was anointed before all my Consorts. This oil, I pour forth largely upon them that are partakers with me. Here therefore you shall find rest to your souls, and assured comfort. here I will lead you into that heavenly win●-ellar, where you shall exult, and drink the wine that rejoiceth the hart of man. And yet this is not an end, but the beginning of your joys. For after this life, there attendeth you a life and reward, 
Es. 64 4. Io. 12 26.  which eye hath not seen, nor ear heard, nor hath it ascended into the hart of man. Because if any man minister to me, my Father will honour him; and the honour is, 
Esa. 61.3. Io. 16.22.  that where I am, there my minister be. Then he will give you a Crown, for ashes: the oil of joy, for mourning a cloak of praise, for the spirit of sorrow; and your hart shall rejoice, and no man shall take your joy from you.   
FINIS.   


THE TABLE OF THE CHAPTERS OF THE FIRST BOOK: wherein is treated of the Profit of a Religious State.  TEstimonies of the ancient Fathers in commendation of a Religious Estate. 
chap. 1. fol. 1.  What Religion is; and how many kinds of Happiness it doth contain. 
chap. 2. fol. 12.  That man is not his own but Gods, and this for seven causes. 
chap. 3. fol. 16.  That a man doth discharge this debt, by giving himself wholly to God in a Religious Estate. 
chap. 4. fol. 26.  Of the snares and occasions of sin which are in the world. 
chap. 5. fol. 30.  Three evils of this world, of which S. john doth advertise us. 
chap. 6. fol. 35.  Of flying the world by a Religious life. 
chap. 7 fol. 42.  Of the benefit of a Religious life, in regard it strippeth us of all things created. 
chap. 8. fol. 47.  Of the benefit of Religious Poverty. 
chap. 9 fol. 51.  Of the benefit of Religious Chastity. 
chap. 10. fol. 56.  Of the benefit of Religious Obedience. 
chap. 11 fol. 63.  That all Christians are bound to Perfection, and not only Religious people. 
chap. 12. fol. 70.  The first fruit of a Religious life, to wit, perfect remission of all sins committed. 
chap. 13. fol 74.  The second fruit of Religion, that it is a state of Penance. 
chap. 14. fol. 79.  The third fruit of Religion: Austerity of life. 
chap. 15. fol. 83.  The fourth fruit of Religion, that it taketh away all occasion of sin. 
chap. 16. fol. 88  The fifth fruit of Religion: Commodity of serving God. 
chap. 17. fol. 93.  The sixth fruit: Religious people always do the will of God. 
chap. 18. fol. 97.  The seaventh fruit, that the Commandments are more easily kept in Religion. 
chap. 19 fol. 103.  The vl fruit of Religion, proceeding from the humble lowliness of the State. 
chap. 20. fol. 105.  The ninth fruit, that Religion is the School of Virtue. 
chap. 21. fol. 109.  The tenth fruit: Plenty of Grace. 
chap. 22. fol. 112.  The eleventh fruit of Religion: Greater merit by virtue of the State. 
chap. 23. fol. 117.  The twelfth fruit of Religion: Direction of Supetiours. 
chap. 24. fol. 123.  The thirteenth fruit; written Rules. 
chap. 25 fol. 129.  The fourteenth fruit: Good example. 
chap. 26. fol. 133.  The fifteenth fruit: Concord and unity of Religious men among themselves. 
chap. 27. fol. 137.  The sixteenth fruit: Mutual assistance in all things. 
chap. 28. fol. 142.  The seaventeenth fruit: Communication of good works. 
chap. 29. fol 147.  The eighteenth fruit: The bond of Vow. 
chap. 30. fol. 151.  The ninteenth fruit: A safe and quiet death. 
chap. 31. fol. 155.  The twentieth fruit, that it is a sign of Predestination. 
chap. 32. fol. 162.  The one and twentieth fruit: God's special care and protection. 
chap. 33. fol. 166.  The two and twentieth fruit: The protection of our Blessed Lady. 
chap. 34. fol. 173  The two and twentieth fruit: That the prayers of Religious people are easily heard. 
chap. 35. fol. 179.  A comparison between the state of a Religious man, and a Secular Layman. 
chap. 36. fol. 182.  A Comparison betwixt the state of Religion and the Secular Clergy. 
chap. 37. fol. 188.  A comparison of a Religious State, with the State of Bishops and Prelates. 
chap. 38. fol. 194.  A Comparison betwixt a Religious life, and the life of an Heremit. 
chap. 39 fol. 200.  Of the benefit of a Religious vocation. 
chap. 40. fol. 206.   

THE CHAPTERS OF the second Book: wherein is treated of the Dignity of a Religious State.  HOW base all earthly things are. 
chap. 1. fol. 201.  Wherein true honour and nobility doth consist. 
chap. 2. fol. 206.  Of the dignity of Religious Poverty. 
chap. 3. fol. 209.  Of the excellency of Religious Chastity. 
chap. 4. fol. 217.  Of the dignity of Religious Obedience. 
Chap. 5. fol. 225.  That a Religious man is above all earthly things; and how glorious this is. 
chap. 6. fol. 230.  How noble a thing it is in a Religious man, to forsake his natural kindred. 
chap. 7. fol. 236.  That a Religious man hath also forsaken himself; and how noble a thing that is. 
chap. 8. fol. 239.  That all Virtues concur in a Religious State. 
chap. 9 fol. 242.  How great the prefection of a Religious State is. 
chap. 10. fol. 249.  Of the dignity of a Religious State, in regard of the similitude, which it hath with God, and with our Saviour. 
chap. 11. fol. 256.  Religion is a kind of Martyrdom. 
chap. 12. fol. 262.  Religious people are the Friends, and Children, and Spouses of God. 
chap. 13. fol 266.  Religious people are the Temples of God, in regard they are consecrated to his honour. 
chap. 14. fol. 271.  Religious people are a continual Sacrifice, in regard of the oblation which they make of themselves. 
chap. 15. fol. 274.  A Religious State compared with the State of a King. 
chap. 16. fol. 277.  Of the Power of judicature which Religious men shall have. 
chap. 17. fol. 281.  Of the glory, which Religious people shall have in Heaven. 
chap. 18. fol 288.  Of the Antiquity of Religious courses; and first how they were prefigured in the Old Law. 
chap. 19 fol. 293.  That a Religious state was instituted by our Saviour himself; and first in his Apostles. 
chap. 20. fol. 297.  How Religious courses did flourish in the time of the Apostles. 
chap. 21. fol. 300.  How Religious Orders have descended to our times. 
chap. 2●. fol. 306.  Of the Religious Orders of the Clergy. 
chap. 23. fol. 316.  Of the great multitude of Religious, and Religious Orders. 
chap. 34. fol. 321.  Of diverse Religious men, that have been eminent both in learning and sanctity. 
chap. 25. fol. 327.  Of Kings and Princes, that have been Religious. 
chap. 26. fol. 334.  Of Noble women that have lived in Religion. 
cap. 27. fol. 341.  Of Popes, that have been taken out of Religious Orders. 
chap 28. fol. 345.  Of Prelates that have been taken out of Religious Orders. 
chap. 29. fol. 356  Of the fruit, which Religious people have brought forth in the Church of God. 
chap. 30. fol. 361.  Reasons, why a Religious course of life is most proper to bring forth these kinds of fruit. 
chap. 31. fol. 372.  How many Religious men have been eminent in learning and eloquence. 
chap. 32. fol. 377.  Reasons, why Religious men profit so much in Learning. 
chap. 33. fol. 385.  Of three degrees of Beauty and Dignity, which are in Religion. 
chap. 34. fol. 387.  Religion is a perfect Commonwealth. 
chap. 35. fol. 392.  How much honour Religious Orders have done to the Church of God. 
chap 36. fol. 397.  Of the honour, which is done to Religious people, even in this life. 
chap. 37. fol. 400.   

THE CHAPTERS OF the third Book: wherein is treated of the Pleasantness of a Religious state.  THat the pleasures of the Mind are far greater, than the pleasures of the body. 
chap. 1. fol. 409.  That true content of mind is only in God. 
chap. 2. fol. 415.  The first reason, why a Religious life is delightful; because it is free from worldly trouble. 
chap. 3. fol. 418.  That Religious discipline is easy. 
chap. 4. fol. 423.  Of the pleasure, which is in a Religious life by reason of the mortification of the Passions. 
chap. 5. fol. 427.  Of the pleasure, which Religious people take in Prayer. 
chap. 6. fol. 431.  Of many other spiritual delights, which Religious people enjoy. 
chap. 7 fol. 434.  Of the contentment, which Religious people take in Poverty. 
chap. 8. fol. 440.  Of the pleasantness of Chastity and Obedience. 
chap. 9 fol. 445,  Of the pleasure, which Religious people take in conversation with their spiritual Brethren. 
chap. 10. fol. 449.  Of the pleasure, which Religious men take in Learning. 
chap. 11. fol. 453.  Of the joy, which Religious people take in the good of their Neighbours souls. 
chap. 12. fol. 458.  Of the Hundred-sold promised to Religious people. 
chap. 13. fol. 459.  A comparison of Religion with Paradise. 
chap. 14. fol. 463.  An answer to certain Objections, which are won to be made against Religion; and first: That few enjoy these Comforts. 
chap 15. fol. 468.  An answer to them that say: There be many hard things in Religion. 
chap. 16. fol. 473.  An answer to them that object, that Religious people bar themselves of the pleasures of this life. 
chap. 17. fol. 481.  An answer to them, that say, there be many temptations in Religion. 
chap. 18. fol. 484.  An answer to them, that say: It is against nature, to live under an other. 
chap 19 fol. 488.  An answer to them, that think it better to keep their weealth to spend in good uses, then to give it all away at once. 
chap. 20. fol. 494.  An answer to them that choose to remain in the world, to do good upon their Neighbour. 
chap. 21. fol. 500  An answer to them that say: It is enough to forsake the world in affection, though they forsake it not in effect. 
chap. 22. fol. 504.  An answer to them that say: It is more perfect to live in the world, because it is harder to live well. 
chap. 23. fol. 512.  An answer to that which is wont to be objected: That Religious people are bound to more perfection. 
chap. 24. fol. 514.  Against those that object, that some Religious people live not well. 
chap. 25. fol 518.  An Answer to their argument that say: If all should become Religious, the world would perish. 
chap. 26. fol. 5●2.  Against the scare of some, that they shall want necessaries for their body. 
chap. 27. fol. 525.  Of the fear, which others have, lest they may hasten their death, by the incommodities, which they shall suffer. 
chap. 28 fol. 529.  An answer to those whom the love of their body hinders from Religion. 
chap. 29. fol. 532.  Of them, whom the love of the world hindered from Religion. 
chap. 30. fol. 537.  Against the fear, which some have, that they shall never be able to shake off their evil customs. 
chap. 31. fol. 540.  An answer to them that fear, that they shall not persever in Religion. 
chap. 32. fol. 545.  Against the temptation of delaying our entrance into Religion. 
chap. 33. fol. 551.  Of a temptation rising from our Parents and Kindred. 
chap. 34. fol. 558.  Against them that hinder their children or kinsfolk from Religion. 
chap. 35. fol. 566  An answer to them that say, they cannot know when it is a true vocation of God. 
chap. 36. fol. 573.  The Conclusion of the whole Work, to Religious people. 
chap. 37. fol. 585.  The conclusion of the whole work to Secular people. 
chap. 38. fol. 596.    

Faults escaped.  
Pag. 9 lin. 3. for Saviour. Who saith, were, read Saviour, who saith▪ Where etc. Pag. 21●. in the Title of the Chapter in some Copies, read Chastity for Charity.  
FINIS.