REMEDIES Against Discontentment, drawn into several Discourses, from the writings of ancient Philosophers.  
By Anonymus.  
Rebus adversis constans.  
LONDON Printed for Ralph Blower An. Do. 1596.   

To the right Worshipful, Edward Cook Esquire, her majesties Attorney general.  
SJR, having received many kind favours from you, & there resting in me small ability, though much will, to deserve them. I thought yet at the least to do, as honest (though unhahle debtors) are wont, who wanting means to make full satisfaction, do strain themselves to pay interest until some better fortune do befall them. And if you be pleased so to accept of these my labours, I do promise & protest, that I will seek by all means possible to discharge the whole, as my ability shall increase. Till when & ever, I will wish you as happy, as I deem you worthy, & remain  
Yours devoted in most dutiful affection. Anonymus.   

Anonymus to his Friend.  
YOu earnestly entreated me to send you those small discourses you took view of in my study, not long since. You have so great authority over me that I can not (without breaking the league of friendship) make that just excuse unto you, which I might unto others. They were only framed for mine own private use; and that is the reason I took no great pain, to set them forth any better, thinking they should never see the light. Imagine not to find in them, those subtle questions, and profound discourses which so weighty a matter requireth. It was not my purpose to enter so far, both in regard of the weakness of mine own forces, as that I did likewise know well, that the ancient Philosophers have left unto us many volumes of the same subject, whose perfection I am in no wise able to imitate. But as they all with one accord do acknowledge thus much, that we do naturally desire to be happy, and that there is no means in this world to attain thereunto, but to bridle our affections, and to bring them unto a sound temper, which is the only way to set our mind at rest: So did they judge it requisite, that we should refer all our labour, watching, and meditation to this end. And in deed it is the course which the best wits of those times, have taken: yea not only they who have been guided by the obscure light of nature, but even those who thorough faith have been enlightened, by the clear shining of the Son beams. From these fair flowers, which their labours have afforded me, I have as I passed by, gathered this small heap, and as my time and leisure served me, distilled them, and kept them as precious. Deeming that the lesser quantity they did contain, so much greater should their virtue and power be. For I was long since thus persuaded, that the receipts which we seek, to calm, and appease our mind with all, aught to be gathered into the fewest words, & shortest precepts that may be, that we may always have them about us. Forasmuch as disquietness, which stoppeth the passage offelicitie, and with the which we are always to combat, doth for the most part take us unawares, and keep us at that bay, that if we have not still some short, and easy weapons about us, which we may well handle, we should not be able to defend ourselves. I doubt not but your age, and experience, hath long since provided you those that are of better mettle, better forged, and tempered. But sith that you have a good opinion of mine, and desire to use 'em (as you make me believe) I do answerable to your desire send the you. If they please you, it shallbe according to my wish: If they displease, yet is it according to your commandment. Far you well.  
Yours Anonymous.   

¶ A brief Table of all the Discourses contained in this Book.  

1 How we ought to prepare ourselves against passions.  
2 Of the choice of affairs.  
3 Of foresight.  
4 Of the vocation of every man.  
5 How we ought to rule our life  
6 Of the diversity of men's actions.  
7 Of the choice of friends.  
8 Of dissembling.  
9 Of vanity.  
10 Of prosperity.  
11 A comparison of our own estate, with the fortune of other men.  
12 Of adversity.  
13 Of sorrow.  
14 Of the afflicton of good men.  
15 Of other men's faults.  
16 Of injuries, wrongs, and disgraces.  
17 Of poverty.  
18 Of Death.    

Anonymus, his Remedies against Discontent.  

1. Discourse. How we ought to prepare ourselves against Passions.  
SING that our felicity dependeth of our actions, & that our soul is (as it were) the fountain & beginning thereof, the greatest care that we ought to have (if we desire to live happily) is to quiet & appease it, and to take order that it be not troubled with common & vulgar opinions, as things contrary to the nature thereof. There are especially two seasons, the one of prosperity, the other of adversity, wherein it is wont to be shaken with passions, as it were with violent & mighty winds. We ought then before hand (like unto the Mariners who before they put to Sea, do provide themselves of all that may be necessary for them to resist a tempest) to furnish ourselves of discourses, which may like anchors settle our mind, that it be not carried away with the waves of passion, when they shall happen to beat against it. For as Zenophon did exhort his fellow citizens to sacrifice unto the Gods, whilst they lived in prosperity, to the end they might before hand, be reconciled & favourable unto them, when they should call upon them in adversity: So likewise we ought when we find ourselves at any leisure, to seek out the knowledge and acquaintance of reason, to the intent that when we have need thereof, it may come at our first call, as knowing our voice, and being already willing to defend us. Discourses are the overrulers of our passions: which when we have throughlie known and examined, and that we are well able to judge what force they have over us, and what power we have over them, they are nothing at all so enraged against us, but far more easily quieted. Like unto dogs which never cease barking at them whose voices they know not, and are soon appeased, when they hear them speak, whom they see daily. We are wont to compare the commandment of the soul over this brutish and earthly part, from the which our passions do arise, unto the office of a good Rider, who mannageth his horse, for keeping still in the Saddle he turneth and ruleth him at his pleasure. But a Knight shall receive small honour, to bring a horse unbacked to the Turney, which had never champed the bit, nor galloped the round; we ought first to teach and tame a horse, before we serve our turn with him at our need: So in like manner before we commit ourselves to the wielding of important affairs, and set ourselves to show upon the Stage of the world, we ought to tame this wild part of our soul, and cause it to bite on the bridle, teaching it the laws and measures, wherewith it ought to govern itself as occasions shall be offered, and setting before it the pleasure and contentment which it is to receive, by the issue of worthy and constant actions. Meditation is that which giveth the soul a right temper, making it hard, and not to be pierced with any sharp passion, in resisting that for which we have made long preparation before hand, we may well be wondered at, albeit it be a matter most difficult: contrarily a very small thing troubleth us, if it happeneth on the sudden. How often do you think that Canius thought of death, and how often did he discourse what it was, who being condemned by the Tyrant and sent to suffer, he was so smally moved therewith, that he said to the Captain that came for him, that he should call to mind that he had the advantage of a game of him, against whom he then went to play. And taking leave of his friends, he gave them no other farewell but this, O my dear friends I shall shortly know that which I have so long desired, to wit, whether the soul be immortal, & whether by death we feel the separation that is made between the soul and the body. We ought to believe, that this poor Pagan had been long exercised in commanding his passions, and was well provided of worthy resolutions, sith that with such constancy and gravity he went to an unjust and violent death. If then the desire, to know what the soul should be after death, caused this man's torment to be pleasing unto him: What ought the certain knowledge which we have of the immortality thereof, and the hope of eternal life, eternally happy, work in those that shall daily meditate thereon? Ought it not to cause both death & other afflictions which we endure, to be delightefull unto us, seeing they are as it were the Waves which cast us, upon this haven of happiness?   

2. Discourse. Of the Choice of affairs.  
MAn is not borne to live with his hands in his bosom, but contrarily as the fairest member that setteth out the world, he ought to bestow his pains for the government & preservation of Civil society, wherein he is placed. But for as much as the quietness of men, doth principally depend of the election of their vocation, & that there is nothing that furthereth them better to live contentedly, than when they are well fitted with a meet calling, they ought first of all to examine themselves, and consider to what end they take that vocation upon them, yea and under whose authority. Because we ordinarily presume too much of ourselves, and attempt more than we have power to perform. And this error, for the most part falleth out in all our actions, so that some spend more than their substance will bear, others labour more than their strength will suffer them, others have no commandment over anger, others in their speech can spare no person, although it should cost them their lives, others are unfit to manage matters of estate, because they are too sad & pensive; others, are unmeet for the Court, because they are discourteous and imagine ever their own opinion to be best. That which causeth us to fail herein, is that we know not ourselves, and oftentimes without making any proof of our sufficiency, we undertake such things as we must afterwards leave of with shame, or endure great pain and care, if we continue them.  
Now, who so will weigh a matter before he take it in hand, let him remember that always he that beareth any burden, aught to have more force than the burden itself. For if it were too great and heavy, without doubt he that would take upon him to carry it, should be constrained either to leave it, or to shrink under it. We ought likewise to consider, that there are many sorts of callings, which of themselves are not so great, as in regard they are intermingled, & entangled, with a rabble of other affairs, and such offices are to be avoided in as much as they weary the mind. But we ought to make choice of those, which we are able to execute, & bring to an end, or at the least of such as we have good hope of the good effecting of them▪ And we ought always to leave off those enterprises, that fall not out according to our purpose & pretence. I say not this to fear you, nor in such sort to abate your courage, that hereupon you do avoid some necessary burdens, and as one daring to undertake nothing, you remain without any calling, which should be a very slothful, and unpleasing life.  
For (as we say) It is the property of man still to be doing something, which should chief be, in that which is necessary and behoveful for the common wealth. Seeing then the necessity of the life of man is naturally subject to labour, and care, we ought to govern ourselves in such sort, that if we be called to undertake any virtuous, and laudable thing, we ought not to leave it of for want of courage, nor yet to be so folish-hardy to enterprise that which we know is above our strength.   

3. Discourse. Of Foresight.  
WE ought them to take order (if it be possible) that we be not surprised by any worldly actions, being before hand thoroughly furnished with wisdom. Which we shall easily do, if in all the affairs we undertake, we premeditate th'inconveniences and crosses which may happen unto us, according to the nature of them, and look unto that which falleth out daily. And such Foresight doth wonderfully lessen the force of evil, which cannot (if we take this course) bring any alteration or change. Contrarily they bring great damage to those who suffer themselves to be surprised, not considering that nature hath set men in a dangerous place, when she brought them forth into the world. They weigh not how often they have seen women lament the untimely death of their Husbands, and Husbands bewail the like burial of their Wives and Children, even at their own doors. They consider not, that those who had speech and conference with them but yesterday, are now dead. We are so deceived, and have so small judgement, that we think it impossible, that the like should happen unto us, which we see fall out every day. If we did acquaint ourselves with matters in such sort as reason requireth, we should rather have cause to wonder how the dangers & accidents which do pace so near after us, have not in so long time overtaken us: And when they have met with us, how it is possible that they should handle us so gently. O how do we deceive ourselves, when we will not forecast what may fall out, and mistrust the worst, least we should be accounted timorous! It behoveth him that setteth sail to know that he may meet with a storm. It is necessary for us to understand that that which happeneth to an other may chance to us, and that which hangeth over every man's head, may fall upon ours. He which observeth an other man's adversity, as a thing that may be fall unto himself, is already armed. You will say I never thought that should have happened unto me: And why not? what riches is there, that is not attended on with poverty? What honour, not waited on with disgrace? what high aspiring, without danger of a down fall? There is no estate but is subject to change, and that which happeneth to another, may meet with thee. It should be a long discourse and contrary to our purpose if we should reckon all those whom fortune, from the highest pitch of felicity hath brought to the lowest step of misery. In such an alteration & variety of matters, if you do not think that all accidents may touch you, you give great power to adversity against yourself, which is wonderfully appeased by the wisdom of him that foreseeth it. Surely our minds should be settled in far greater quietness, if our actions did tend to those things that had a settled estate. For having once attained it, we should at the least content ourselves, and rejoice in peace. But for as much as all things in this world are transitory and that there is nothing firm, the remedy of hurt by our infirmity, is to foresee this, & not to afflict ourselves with those things the possession of which, is as disquiet, as their search. And therefore we ought so to affect them, as things that may leave us, and have this foresight that they do not first forsake us. As it was once told to ANAXAGORAS, that his son was dead, And he answered I knew well that he was a man & subject to death. We ought in like sort, to be prepared against all chances. My friend did not assist me in such a cause; I knew that he was a man, and so subject to alteration. I enjoyed a good wife: yet was she notwithstanding a woman. He which in such sort preventeth the worst, shall never be surprised at unawares, nor say as foolish men do commonly. I had not thought it. To such the chances of fortune bring great affliction, because they are not armed with wise foresight to support them. A wise man in time of peace maketh provision for war. Ulysses passed many dangers and labours and yet was he never afflicted with any thing but one trifle which surprised him on the sudden, which was the death of a dog which he loved well. I may conclude with that which is commonly and truly said. A man surprised is half conquered.   

4. Discourse. Of the vocation of every man.  
IT happeneth oftentimes that many men considering not what they do, do fall into a kind of life painful to bear, & more troublesome to leave. Which surely is a matter very intricate, which had need of great wisdom, and no less patience, and wherein especially they are to call upon God for his assistance; considering that in such a necessity, patience, and humility towards God, is th'only remedy to ease our grief.  
Look into the estate of Prisoners, how painful it is unto them at the first to endure irons about their legs: but after they are a little accustomed unto them, necessity instructeth them, and use maketh them carry them with ease. There is no kind of life so restrained, that hath not some comfort and refreshing. And surely there is nothing wherein nature hath so much favoured us, as that it hath caused us to find the remedy, or lessening of our griefs in the patiented enduring of them: since man is borne subject to all kind of calamities. We ought then to presuppose, that we are all Prisoners of fortune, who holdeth all men fettered: and there is no other difference but this, that some men's chains, are of gold, others of iron. We are all in one prison, and they who hold others Captives, are prisoners themselves. If honour troubleth thee, riches vexeth other men: and if baseness of birth afflicteth thee, Nobility and greatness tormenteth others a thousand fold more: If thou art subject to an other man's will, thou shalt see that he that commandeth thee is Captive to his own, being bondslave to thousands of discontentments, and cares which thou perceivest not. To conclude, if you look narrowly into the matter you shall find, that the whole Life of man is nothing else but a kind of bondag. wherein every one ought to frame himself in his calling, and endeavour to content him self therein, dissembling the evil he meeteth with, and making use of the good. For there is no estate of life so painful, wherein the patiented mind findeth not some ease, and contentment. Albeit that art, & dexterity, be more necessary, in adversity, than prosperity. Industry raiseth up a family in a small time. And when crosses and encumbrances, do offer themselves, we ought then to show our virtue, and diligence, putting our chiefest trust in God. jonas had good leisure in the whales belly, to make his prayers unto God, which were not powered out in vain. In like manner, how hard and heavy soever any thing is, it may be eased and helped. Limit always your hope, by the term of your Life, and judge that many things, though in their outward appearance they seem different, yet are they within, very like in vanity. Envy not those who are advanced to a higher calling than yourself: For many times it falleth out that that which we deem height, is a downfall. And to say the troth, those who have lived contented, have not always made the best Election: But they who have had the skill to carry themselves prudently in the Estate which they have chosen, taking that which was evil patiently, and seeking to better that which fell out crosslie. Whereupon Plato compared the life of man unto Dice play, wherein he which casteth, ought always endeavour to win, and yet content himself with his chance. Seeing that good & evil is not in our power, & that we may notwithstanding take our fortune patiently, & thank God that worse which might have befell, did not happen unto us. Those men that are of a slender capacity, if fortune once blow with a prosperous gale upon them, are so transported with joy that they know not what they do, and no man is able to converse with them, and in adversity, they are so astonished, and so sad, that they are altogether beaten down. They are all like sick persons full of anguish, who can neither endure, cold, nor heat. The Philosopher THEODORUS was wont to say, that he gave words unto his hearers with the right hand, and that he received them with the left. So do many often times who take that Fortune with the left hand, which is given them with the right. It were far better, wisely to imitate Bees, who out of Time (a sour and dry herb) do draw savoury and sweet Honey.  
We ought in like manner out of this hard and painful life, to try out that which is good, and cast away that which is evil, or at the least hide it. Yea they who are exercised in virtuous actions, may after a sort make their profit of that which is evil. DIOGENES being banished, took occasion by his exile; to apply himself to the study of wisdom.  
Nothing will be so hard as it seemeth, if by daily exercise you take a habitude to live contented. Doth it displease you to live in the Courts of great Lords and Princes? Content you with your own dwelling house. Are you not capable, to wield matters of Estate? Play the part of a good Citizen. By this means you shall make that easy which is accounted painful in this life.  
Moreover it will avail you much in your discontentments to set before you the worthy and famous persons of times past, in what sort & with what wisdom they have given remedy to the crosses, and encumbrances, which have befell them in their lives. Doth it grieve you that you have no children? Consider how many Kings have wanted issue of their body and died without heirs.  
If poverty afflict you, weigh with yourself how many excellent men have been poor, who nevertheless have lived patiently without complaint. Upon a time one brought word to STILOPHON the Philosopher that his daughter had played the harlot, the fault (quoth he) is not to be attributed to me, but to her.  
If the bad conditions of those that are yours do displease you, set before your eyes, so many honourable and singular men, who have quietly endured the corruptions of those belonged unto them: SOCRATES was troubled with the most disquiet wife in the world, and said that in suffering her, he learned at ho me to use patience abroad. Consider DAVID who was disquieted with his own Children.  
The world is full of such examples, And were it not, that we are too far in love with ourselves it is certain that even in the greatest afflictions we should find sufficient contentment. For no prison is so obscure and strait, that at the least, doth not afford place, for a song, to lessen the pain of the imprisoned.  
To conclude, I say, that if you love God, and serve him, charity alone will give peace, and tranquillity to your mind, which the world cannot do, though every one in word doth offer it you.   

5. Discourse. How we ought to rule our life.  
IN mine opinion it is necessary to hold a certain firm & stayed course of life without changing upon every slight occasion, you shall see some who are so infected with this vice, that they altar their manner of life daily, being unpossible to settle themselves to any thing, like unto those who never have been at Sea, who when they first set sail, remove out of a great Ship into a little, and from a little to a great, showing plainly that they mislike both: being still Sea-sick and purging their stomach. It is even so with those who bring their passions with them in those matters they undertake, seeking daily a new form of life and never do effect any thing they begin. Every thing maketh themsick, all things torment them: to have much business, to be idle, to serve, to command, to be married, to lead a single life, to have children, to be without issue: to be short, nothing pleaseth them, nothing satiffieth them, but that which they have not: And such kind of men live miserably and discontentedly, like unto those who are restrained of their liberty, and fettered, living in a daily torment.  
There are another sort of men almost like unto these, who can never stand still nor stay in one place, they never cease going and coming, they intermeddle themselves in every man's matter without any entreaty, they are wonderfully troubled with business, & yet they have nothing at all to do. When they come abroad, if you demand of them whither they go, they straightways make answer I know not, I have some business like as others have. They run about the streets, and market places, and return all weary and disquieted, having dispatched nothing at all. For there is nothing that so much wearieth any man, as to labour in vain: It is like little ants who climb unto the top of a tree, & when they are at the highest have nothing else to do but to come down again, without reaping any other profit. They go with such a random that they carry all that they meet before them. The Exchange, Paul's, and the market places, are ordinarily full of such men. These forge and invent news, are deceivers, talking still of other men's lives, and discoursing vainly what charges and offices other men have.  
A wise man's actions tend always to a certain end, he never burdeneth himself, with more business than he can well execute. And to say the troth. He which taketh much upon him, giveth fortune much power over him.   

6. Discourse. Of the diversity of men's actions.  
IN my opinion we ought to have a care to fashion ourselves to bear with the time, and with matters, as they happen, & not to bind ourselves in such sort to one kind of life, that upon urgent occasions we may not leave of the same. For like as a man being in health ought not to subject himself to keep a kind of rule in his diet, but rather accustom himself sometimes to eat more, sometimes to eat less, sometimes to dreak wine, otherwhiles water, to sit in the Sun, & in the shade, sometimes to travail, and sometimes to take rest: so ought we in like manner to fashion ourselves to every thing, which if we do, no strange accident that may befall (as there happeneth many daily) can trouble or disquiet us, nay, though we should altogether change the form of our life (as it is already said) we may do it with ease, so that it be not upon any sleight occasion, we being so well trained up, that it is no hard matter for us, to yield to the present tyme. And surely the want of power in us is one, and the same, not to know how to change, and not to be able to live in a settled estate.  
We ought to entermingle, and temper matters in such sort, that one may agree with an other, somewhiles remaining alone, otherwhiles in company. In company for our friends sake, alone for the love we bear ourselves, It being unmeet always to show ourselves grave, for that would cause us to be hated. Neither yet always merry, nor overmuch familiar, for that would cause us, be contemned. But we ought with great foresight to apply ourselves to time, and place, as occasion requireth, it being necessary for us to recreate ourselves, that we may the better follow our business.  
We read of SOCRATES (a most grave man) that he thought it not amiss, to sport with little Children. And of Marcus Cato (a severe man) that sometimes he feasted merrily with his friends, to take pleasure, and refresh his spirit, being weary with public affairs. And of Scipio Affricanus we find written, that sometimes he danced.  
All this we say, to show that the mind must have some refreshing, That man is not free, that hath not the means sometimes to be at his own leisure. The ground how fertile so ever it be, if it still remain untilled, be cometh barren in a small tyme. Continual labour, maketh the mind weak and weary, even as to do nothing, and to live altogether at ease, maketh it dull and heavy; Recreation ought to be unto us, as our sleep, which strengtheneth us & giveth us breath to return afterwards more freely to our labour. But if we did always sleep, it should be a kind of death, and not sleep.  
They who in times past established laws ordained certain festival days in the year, that men night be (as it were) constrained, to rest from their business, & to sport themselves after their labours. Yea in former age, many worthy persons, did appoint certain hours, for their recreation. Asinius Pollio, a great Orator, never took so great business upon him, that he did not allot unto himself the two last hours of the day to refresh himself, during the which, he would not so much as read the letters he received from his friends: lest they might bring him some new thought and care. We read of others, who laboured till noon, & bestowed the rest of the day in matters of no great moment. The candles that are given out to those that serve in court, do seem to limit the time of rest and labour. There was a decree in the Senate of Room, which forbade, that no new matter should be propounded the two last hours of the day.  
Moreover when a man is over wearied with important affairs, it is a great strengthening and refreshing unto him, to sorace himself in some open & large place, which seemeth to put, as it were, new life into him.  
To conclude, we ought to delight in change, according to the time, and to take heed that we nourish not our mind over soft, and daintily; For in as much as of itself it hath great forces, so that it be kept awake, and exercised: It is not meet that we let it languish, and become weak. For if once we come to be impatient, and tender, all things are displeasing unto us, meat goeth against our stomach, hunger gnaweth the belly, sleep displeaseth us, watching tormenteth us, and like unto a sick person, we still seek after new fangles.  
Such daintiness hath been the occasion that many have not been able to endure, not so much as those things which of necessity they must use in this life, (as sitting, sleeping, rising, waking, dining, supping, appareling themselves, putting of their garments, and such like things which we must daily do) but have rather let themselves pine away, and die: so grievous a thing it was unto them to begin the same things again every day. Such persons grow to such extremities, that they know not how to govern and nourish their mind and keep it still in strength and courage, that it may be acquainted with all things, taste all things, and digest all things. For in this matter there is the like and the same reason and proportion between the mind, and the body. And here hence it cometh that you shall see some men so tender, that the least noise in the world disquieteth them, And the ringing even of a little bell doth anger them. For like as unto a faint and diseased body, so it happeneth unto a weak, languishing spirit, that whatsoever toucheth it, paineth it.   

7. Discourse. Of the choice of friends.  
FOrasmuch as necessarily the life of man, hath need of friends, & the aid of company, (for it should be too overhard a matter, & too severe to have the mind always bend unto business, and it should be a thing more grievous to bear, to enjoy no person with whom we might take some recreation) I find that we are over negligent in the choice of them. In my opinion we ought to take great heed to make choice of such as are of a mild conversation, who of themselves deserve to beloved: and accompanied.  
There is nothing that bringeth so much contentment and recreation to man's mind, as faithful friendship. For it is a singular pleasure to find one framed with such a mild mind to whom thou may so boldly disclose thy secret thoughts: whose council may give you advise, whose mirth may exempt you from sadness, and whose presence may lessen your pain. Wherefore it behoveth to make election of such friends as are exempt of Covetousness, and vice. For Vice (like unto fire) taketh hold of that which approacheth near unto it. So that we ought to do as they are wont in time of plague, or pestilelnce, separate those that are sound, from such as are sick, least diseaze, & infection do grow, by putting them together.  
Yet herein I would not have you to be over-scrupulous: for seeing that it is impossible to find such as are absolutely perfect, we ought to hold those in account as good: who have least imperfections in them.  
You ought above all things, to shun such as are of a sad disposition, who are still complaining, and still despairing, yea albeit they did love you well and were faithful unto you. For it is a thing that would greatly trouble us to have such a friend who is always pensive and ready to sigh upon every occasion.  
Seeing that Friendship and company, is to ease us of our care: It were not fit to use the familiarity of such a one, who in stead of rejoicing and lessening your griefs, should put you into vain fears, and apprehensions.   

8. Discourse. Of Dissembling.  
IT is a great trouble, and disquiet of mind to many men, to seem others in show, than they are in deed; and a great torment, still to have an eye unto themselves, for fear lest they should be discovered. As often as men look upon them, so often do they imagine to be espied, and in the end it happeneth that they lay open themselves against their will. The care they have to hide their natural disposition, is a hell unto them: and to be discovered, a confusion.  
There is no such pleasure as to live according to a man's own nature. And a beit there be some danger to be less esteemed, if it hap we be known. Notwithstanding it were better to be somewhat less set by, and to live openly, then to take such care to disguise ourselves cunningly, albeit that there ought to be me diocritie used in both. For there is a great difference between living freely, and negligently.  
Which that you may the better understand nature hath endued us with two qualities. The one general (which is that it made us reasonable creatures and capable of discourse to utter our conceit wherein we surpass brute beasts) the other particular to every one (as to be inclined to gravity, to mirth, to melancholynes, or to any other humour.) Herein we ought to follow our natural inclination, so that it be not deformed or vicious, as if a man were subject to laugh over much, it were convenient and necessary to strain himself to correct this imperfection; But in those qualities which deserve no reprehension, it were good not to double, or play the counterfeit. For it is a very difficult matter, to use gravity always, (if nature inclineth not thereto) To change one's countenance, to speak highly, & look big: which things if by chance you forget, immediately you are laid open.  
It were far better, to follow a pleasant conversation, and mild manner of life: Notwithstanding if it happened that you were placed in some high estate, which did require greater severity, herein it were not amiss somewhat to force nature. Yet this aught to be done with great wisdom and moderation: yea by little & little, so that this alteration might breed offence to no man.  
This manner of dissembling cannot be blamed, for it grieveth none but those who do use it, and change their natural disposition. But there are some, who being in deed men of a light behaviour, and ridiculous, desire yet to be held for grave, wise, and worthy persons.  
Others there are, who without any occasion, do seek to play the Counterfeits, who being borne to all meekness and humanity, delight to show themselves rude and cruel.  
Others being very Cowards, make a show to be wonderful valiant, not regarding in deed what they are. These kind of men cannot long hide themselves, that being always true which is commonly said, No violent thing is durable.   

9 Discourse. Of vanity.  
IT is a very hard matter, yea I may say impossible for a man that is vainly given and over curious of honour, that he should ever taste the comfort of the tranquillity of the mind, which is so much desired, and the which wise men do seek to attain unto by all possible means. The reason hereof is, because he cannot purchase all that which he longeth after, neither the place, nor the honour, nor the credit which he seeketh for. He always promiseth himself more than he is able to perform, being not able to set himself forth in apparel, nor in othing according to his mind: because he desireth to pass the common sort in all things. So that he is troubled no less than they who swim against the stream, hope against the hill, & in stead of advancing himself, steppeth backward.  
contrarily the means to live most at ease, is to make less show, & countenance than our power will suffer, or stretch unto, & leave of all pomp & vanity, aswell in apparel, as in the train of servants, and other things, & to hold always as a mean, that which is necessary, and not that which is grounded in the vain opinion of men.  
Yea even in our diet, we ought to take heed, that we be not over sumptuous.  
It were not amiss likewise to bridle our hopes, and not to enterprise & undertake those matters that did pass our power to bring to effect.  
As concerning riches, it were good that we took order that we rather made provision of them ourselves, than expected them of Fortune.  
In all matters, it were best, to hold a mean aswell in our actions, as in our thoughts. For when any storm of fortune cometh, it shall have less means to overthrow us finding us to have strooken sails, than when they are full hoist.  
Finally you ought to dispose of yourself in such sort that albeit you wanted wealth, yet should it not be any cross unto you.  
If you delight in books, see that they serve you to other purpose then to set forth your study, as some do use them, only for a vain show; like unto brute beasts, who carry victuals on their back, but eat not thereof themselves.  
Too great a number of servants are but a trouble, who mar one another with over much ease.  
To conclude, if in any thing you make account to live after the common opinion, you shall never live contented, if according to reason, & nature, you shall never have want. O how quietly and peaceably doth the humble man live, who taketh no great care for his provision. Surely even in those brute beasts which we bring up, we hate such as are disdainful, and do seem to be oppugnant, and not to rule themselves according to our mind.  
To be short, remember that, Thunder and Lightning do commonly fall upon the highest places.   

10. Discourse. Of Prosperity.  
WHen fortune smileth upon us, and that all things (as we say) fall out according to our wish, then is the time when we ought most of all to look unto ourselves, to bridle our affections, and watch to frame our actions by the rule of reason. For adversity doth induce even our enemies to pity, & prosperity doth move our friends to envy.  
If we should in this place recite all those who have ended their lives miserably by a sudden and violent death, because they could not moderate themselves in their prosperity, the discourse should be overr long: Our purpose being to use brevity, we will forbear to entreat thereof, in regard it is a matter, that every man knoweth. And therefore when we have a time of favour, we ought to avoid presumption, which doth ordynarilye accompany it, and diminish, and beat down as much as lieth in us, this loftiness which doth follow it.  
True it is, that there are some, who in respect of the rank, and degree they hold, may not abase themselves without falling. It were very necessary, that such persons did in such sort, ymploye their wits, to temper their gravity, that men might impute their stateliness to their Office, and not to their nature: excusing themselves to their Friends, and to such as are of less calling, that they have not the leisure to entertain them, and make such account of them as they would willingly: using notwithstanding all the courtesy their estate will suffer them, not entering into choler, if any one offereth importunately, or indiscreetly to speak unto them, For it is all one vice, not to be able to govern ourselves in prosperity, and not to have the patience to endure adversity.  
We ought then to hold an equality, in all the course of our life, & if it be possible, to show always a cheerful Countenance, full of meekness & courtesy.  
ALEXANDER the great, far surpassed his Father, in worthy deeds of arms, but his Father surmounted him in mildness and humanity. The Father was always virtuous and well-beloved, and the Son many times vicious and hated. So that their Council is most good, and wholesome, who affirm, That by how much, we are advanced to a high estate, by so much ought we to show ourselves humble and lowly.  
Scipio Affricanus did commonly say, that like as we are wont, to put unbroken horses, to some skilful Rider to manage, that we might use them at our need: so is it needful to tame those persons who are grown most proud, and insolent through their fortune, and to bring them to tread within the ring or compass of reason, showing unto them the misery and weakness of the affairs of this world, and the inconstancy of fortune.  
This is the cause why we ought in our greatest prosperity, use the counsel of our friends, and even then to give them more authority, over us, then at any other time, to th'end that they may boldly tell us our own, and stop our ears against flatterers, who may easily deceive us. For in all seazons men carry this estimation of themselves, that they are worthy praise, but most of all in prosperity; in which time it is a hard and difficult matter, to find any who doth not willingly attribute unto himself the cause of his own felicity. And there is no season wherein men do sooner forget god, then when they have attained to some high estate; So that misery is Physic, because it bringeth men to know themselves.  
To be well conceited of one's self, and to believe liars and flatterers causeth men to fall into gross faults, and giveth occasion to make them a laughing stock to the world. And surely it is a great folly, rather to credit others, than ourselves.  
This PHILIP, (of whom I have made mention,) being puissant and triumphant, and as a wise man, considering that the affairs of this world do not always remain in one estate, caused his page every morning to salute him with these words, Philip remember thou art a man.  
How much more ought a wise christian say unto himself. Remember thou art dust, and into dust thou shalt return.   

11. Discourse. A Comparison of our own estate, with the Fortune of other men.  
IT may serve greatly to attain the tranquillity of the mind, if we weigh in ourselves without passion, the means we have; and do afterwards consider others who have not so much: not doing as many men are went, who only look at those that have more substance than themselves, wondering at than, & reputing them to be happy. Like unto prisoners who deem them fortunate that are at liberty, those that are at liberty only such as are free, and rich; and those that are rich, only such as bear office: those that have charge in inferior offices, Kings: & Kings those that are Emperors, and mightier than themselves.  
And here hence it cometh to pass, that being not able to match them who are of greater power, they are male content with their own estates. Which is no other thing than ungratefulness towards god, and a torment to themselves.  
A wise man, albeit that others get the start of him in substance, is not for that cause sad, nor discontented, but setting before him a great number, who live miserably, and afflicted, rejoiceth in his own fortune.  
And therefore when you shall lift up your eyes, and behold some richly mounted upon their great horses; others that have well profited in learning, and thou repinest thereat. Cast down thy sight, and thou shalt find a greater number, who walk on foot, and living poorly, do account thy estate happy. For there is no reason, why the fortune of some few should rather move thee to disquietness, than the estate of many, persuade thee to contentment.  
How many poor men are there who live of their labour, charged with children, and want, and (which is worst of all) have no hope to escape out of misery.  
How many are there that would be well satisfied with that estate which you bewail, and complain of?  
We are in so miserable a season, that our life doth rather depend of the condition of other men, then of our own: and our neighbour's substance tormenteth us more, than our own wealth comforteth us.  
If it were possible for men openly to discern the estate of those whom they deem happy, many times they should find their life more troublesome, than their own.  
Who is he that imagineth not the condition of Kings to be most happy: And yet note the speech of a King, who in Homer complaineth thus. Great jupiter hath imprisoned me with great cares. O how happy are they who in their little Cottages live exempt from these dangers.  
And if it be so that thousands would content themselves with the estate wherein god hath placed thee, what reason hast thou to complain, that thou hast not made exchange with some one, whose fortune thou dost envy? what needest thou to torment thyself, to attain unto the estate of another, seeing it is certain, that nothing doth so much disquiet a man, as desire to aspire from one estate, to another. Because that such men without any consideration, do follow any hope that offereth itself unto them: which failing to fall out according to their desire, they blame Fortune, and curse their hap: never finding fault with themselves, for their own lightness, and want of foresight: & considering not, that it is a mere folly to impute their want of discretion to another, in the fault they have made to follow that which is either uncertain, or impossible. They are like unto those who storm and take on, because they cannot fly, nor shoot an arrow with a Cart. The cause of this evil, is the overgreat love that men do bear themselves: And herehence it proceedeth, that they expect to be chiefest accounted of in all things. It is a small matter for them to be rich, if they do not exceed others in substance.  
Do but consider how this vice beareth sway, in all estates. DEVICE the first, thought not himself satisfied in being King of Sycilia, and esteemed not his dignity throughlie accomplished, because PHILOXENUS excelled him in Poetry, and Plato in philosophy. But entered into such rage, that he condemned PHILOXENUS to go to Plough, and banished PLATO.  
Of this self-love, likewise it cometh often times to pass, that men do undertake to discourse of all matters, to show their learning, and for the most part, they become a laughing stock to the company. As it happened to MEGABISES of PERSIA, otherwise a man of great worth and reputation, who on a time, coming into the shop where Appelles the Painter followed his art, he began to discourse thereof, and make known to Appelles, that he had skill therein. Appelles, who was a pleasant and wise man, said unto him, Surely Lord Megabises, before I hard you speak, I took you to be discreet, and considerate, but sithence you have entreated of my art, even the boys in the shop who grind colours do laugh at you.  
Hannthall the Carthaginian Captain, after that the Romans' had driven him out of Italy, and afric, flying to the King of Bithynia, was one day desired to go to the schools to here a great Philosopher, who began to discourse of the sleights, and stratagems of war. Others who gave ear unto him wondering at his eloquence, and the skill which he showed in matter of warfare, demanded of Hannibal what he thought of his discourse, who smiling said unto them, that he had known many old fools, but that he never heard any that had uttered so many follies as the Philosopher. And no doubt Hamniball had reason, seeing he entered to entreat of that which is not learned within the walls of a school, in presëce of one of the most worthy, and experienced Captains then living in the world.  
Which plainly showeth that every one, aught to content himself with his calling, without intermeddling with another man's profession, which the Poets have given us to understand, feigning that even the Gods were contented, every one with his own office: as Mars with war; Minerva with the liberal Sciences; Mercury with Eloquence, Cupid with love, Neptune with the Sea, Pluto with hell, jupiter with Heaven, and so of the rest, every one contenting himself with his propriety: and whensoever any did enterprise to meddle with an others office, he was either mocked, or chastised.  
Here-hence we ought to gather, that all things do not beseem all persons, and that every man ought to consider what he is addicted unto, and content himself therewith.  
They who make profession of learning, had need of rest, and leisure.  
They who serve Princes and great persons, are subject to great labour.  
To be short, these things (and others which we might allege) are not fit for all men: and every one is bound to profess that he is apt unto by nature. The Horse is meet to run, the Ox to till the ground.  
We should account him a fool, who would complain, that he were not able to carry a Lion in his bosom, as he may a little dog.  
There are some men who desire without leaving their viciousness, and idle life, to become as great Philosophers as those who have attained thereunto with so great watching and travel.  
In times past good wrestlers were contented with their own prize, never envying the honour other champions did purchase in running. contrarily they who contemning their own wealth, do gape after others men's substance, do live in continual pain, & torment.  
We read that there lived long since in Boetia very wise men, who complained of their gods that their fig trees did not bear reasons, nor their vines figs, we ought to imagine that God hath diversly framed men, to divers purposes, & that every one ought to quiet and content himself, with that which God hath bestowed upon him, without exceeding his bounds, To run after that which is none of his. For such kind of People never make account, either of that which they have had, or of that which they possess, but only of that which they covet to have: and do always look a far of, never setting eye on the place where they are.  
In times past, there was a certain Image painted in a Temple, which did represent those kind of men, who always expected the time to come, and did still neglect the time present. The Picture was of a Rope-maker, who did labour continually, and suffered his Ass to eat that which was behind him: Even so do those who are ungrateful towards God, who contemning their own welfare, do suffer forgetfulness to devour it, and are always longing for that which is to come.  
In worldly matters, all things are not after one sort, for as in Music there are flat, sharp, and middle tunes, and the wise Musician, by the medley of them, frameth most sweet accords: Even so a wise man, of good & of evil which happeneth in this life, he maketh good harmony, taking not the good alone, nor the evil likewise by itself, but intermingling the one with the other, as things which in this world cannot be separated. This worthy saying of EURIPIDES being true, Sorrow, and the life of man, are twins.   

The 12. Discourse. Of Adversity.  
Adversity is partly grievous, and heavy, unto us by nature; as sickness, the loss of our children, and our friends, & such other like accidents: but partly in like manner in the feeling of them we follow the common opinion, and especially in matter of want, and necessity, in the receiving of injuries, and reproaches, and when to our thinking men yield us not that honour, we do deserve. Against which we ought to apply that which the Poet, MENANDER speaketh of. That which hath happened unto thee is not grievous, but that thou makest a show that it is so.  
And that this is true, thou hast thy mind, and thy body, as much at commandment as before any such thing did befall thee. Against which thou oughtest to note, that thou endurest nothing against the law of man, seeing at his birth these things were allotted and given unto him, ordinarily to accompany him. And in deed, nature hath not made us so weak, to endure adversity, as we make ourselves. Let us think that it is the least part of man which is subject to Fortune, and that the chiefest portion is in our own power, which belonging to virtue, cannot be overcome by any thing without our consent.  
Besides, we know that there needeth no great force herein, having none to fight withal but ourselves. And seeing that the chiefest part of the victory, consisteth in getting the mastery of ourselves.  
Hereunto let us add: that God never casteth those out of his favour, who seek to get the victory in a righteous cause.  
Fortune may bring thee to poverty, to a low estate, it may afflict thee, but it can never force thee to become vicious, faint-hearted, and cowardly. It cannot take courage, and virtue from thee, in the which consists more force to govern thyself then in the art of navigation: In as much as the PILOT how wise and considerate soever he be, cannot by his art appease the raging fury of the Sea, nor exempt others from fear: But virtue, and wisdom in a heart, well framed and disposed, giveth assurance to the body: preserving it through temperance from diseases, and by continency, withdrawing it from other vices.  
And if so be, that any thing, should offer itself to our mind, wherein there were any peril, we should as a dangerous gulf leave it & pass on farther.  
Or if the evil be inevitable, we ought te comfort ourselves, immagening the port is not far of, and that we leave this body, as a crazed ship, holding death as a haven of happiness and assurance. And knowing (considering the nature of the soul) that the departure from this life, is to come to a better. Which consideration, ought greatly to encourage Christians, not to fear that which may breed terror to other men.  
And if we had force, sufficient to defend ourselves from the strokes of fortune to meet with it, and stop the passage thereof, with a valiant courage, and being prepared to withstand the assaults thereof, nothing could torment us. which we should effect, if we did not use to promise ourselves, any great and certain hope, nor any settled estate in this miserable life. And that we did consider very narrowly, if those things which we repute as bad, are as evil as we judge them to be, or not. And if we did sagely weigh, and wisely foresee before hand, what cross Fortune might fall out, to assure ourselves when it should happen, it would not terrify us half so much: Nay contrarily, the nearer it should approach unto us, the more courageous, stout, & valiant should we be, & we ought not to be dismayed, but most assured should we be to look her in the face, and to know that she is not so hardy as they say she is. And albeit whilst we live here, no man can vaunt and avouch that he hath not tasted of her cup: at the least, this he may say, well sith I must needs drink thereof, yet will I not shrink thereat, I will not complain, nor despair as other men do: I will not reduce myself into that miserable estate, as some men do, when they are crossed with adversity, albeit I am assailed with poverty more than they. I will not deceive my neighbour, nor take that which belongeth unto him: I will not lie for any gain, nor forswear myself.  
To be short, nothing shall so far forth seem intolerable, that to avoid it, I will become vicious.  
If by honest means I cannot ease myself, necessity (at the least) shall cause my burden seem light, beside, the law common to all men which forbidto account that heavy which so many do bear.  
Make choice of any kind of affliction you please, you shall find more that are burdened therewith, then exempt.  
This aught to be a great comfort unto us, that where there is no sin there is no evil: And that a virtuous man liveth more quietly in adversity, than the vicious doth in prosperity.  
Such pains righteous men have endured (who by the grace of god) were thoroughly accomplished with virtue, with patience, with humility, which how grievous soever they were, yet did they not so much torment them, as their conscience did comfort them.  
Like as they who have the ague, do with greater pain feel, and endure their fit, than others, that are in health, do the heat, and cold of the summer, and winter: So they who are infected with vice, which burneth their conscience, are in a more grievous manner tormented with those accidents which do befall them, then honest men are in their greatest adversities: who having their inward parts sound, cannot be disquieted with the outward, especially when they do oppose against it a valiant courage, and the force of an unspotted conscience: a greater might surely then whatsoever we may purchase by any other means.  
Imagine not that Riches, how abundant soever they be, are able to give the like contentment, as Virtue bringeth to an honest man, which of itself is sufficient to make him happy. For whosoever possesseth virtue it briugeth with itself a reward in itself. And like as odoriferous and precious trees, although they be lopt, or let dry, yet do they notwithstanding keep their sweet and pleasant smell: and bad and barren trees, with their leaves and blossoms, do bring no contentment: So virtuous men do receive more comfort in adversity, than the vicious in the midst of their riches: being still afflicted, and tormented, with the worm of their conscience. In what season, in what place, in what estate soever you find an honest man, he is always contented.  
It is reported that DIOGENES the Philosopher, seeing a man that made preparation against a Festival day, said unto him: why labourest thou so much to make thyself handsome, seeing that every day is a festival unto a virtuous man? Surely all the days of an honest man his life are, as solemn days, and fit for pleasure, and recreation.  
For if we consider the matter a right, the world is nothing else but a fair and holy temple, into the which man is received from the day of his birth: within which Temple there are two great lights, the Sun and the Moon, with many other stars. Wherein likewise there are many kind of creatures, by means whereof, man attaineth to the knowledge of others which he seethe not.  
And there is not the least of them but being rightly considered, do bring contentment unto the mind. what pleasure is it to behold the fountains, which still bring forth fresh waters, to see the trees, the plants, the roots, the herbs, the diversity of living creatures, stones, hills, valleys, plains? If men were wise, might they not serve them for their recreation, and pastime. What greater pleasure is there in this life, than those sports which god hath left us to take in his creatures, if we knew rightly how to use them? we take pleasure to see bulls and other beasts fight, and yet there are other creatures in this fair Theatre, that might give us far greater delight, what sweeter music is there then the singing of birds?  
To be short we may take pleasure to behold, and observe, all the creatures that god hath made and created, each one in their kind.  
We spend our life in so many practices, and deceipts, that we have no leisure to rejoice ourselves neither would we let others take their recreation.  
If we knew how to set our mind at liberty, and give it time to rejoice, and take pleasure in those things, and in the knowledge of god, nothing could daunt it, or make it sad. But contrarily, being united to his maker, it should live peaceably to itself, and rest in full joy for ever, knowing this that albeit sometimes it hath endured adversity, yet sometimes better hath befallen it, and by this means it should weigh the one with other, & say it hath more reason to rejoice in regard of good success, then to lament in respect of evil hap.  
As we are wont to withdraw our eyes from the sight of things which offend us, and behold green colours (and such other pleasing to the sight) so ought we in like manner turn aside the eyes of our understanding, and our thoughts from rueful things, and apply them to those which are delightful and pleasant. Not playing the part of malicious men, who behold other men's faults with kites eyes, and their own with Owls eyes.  
We are oftentimes like Horseleeches, who drink the bad blood and leave the good.  
There was on a time a rich man and miserable, who had in his house great store of wine, and he was so covetous and blind, that he sold the best, and drunk the worst, a slave of his seeing the nigardliness of his Master, fled from him, and being afterwards demanded why he ran away, because (said he) I cannot tarry with a man who having the good in his power, doth choose the bad.  
The Philosopher ARISTIPPUS spoke better to the purpose: who of three Farms or possessions that he had, having lost one, said unto his friends, that it were simplicity to grieve for the loss of one of his Farms, and not to rejoice for the other two which were left him.  
We do as little children are wont, from whom if you take away one of their puppittes, they cast away the rest in a rage. For if of many good things which we have, some one be taken from us, or if by chance we lose it, we fall strait into bitter lamentations, forgetting all other things that remain safe in our possession.  
But alas, will some one say, what is it that we have? To whom I will make this answer, nay what is it that we enjoy not? Some man hath great credit, this other much wealth, some one an obedient wife, an other faithful friends.  
ANTIPATER of Tharsis accounted this amongst other his good Fortunes, that he had made a prosperous navigation from Sicilia to Athens: and we covet all, having not the wit to thank God for that we possess, not making any reckoning of the greatest riches because they seem to be common (to wit) to live, to enjoy our health, to have our sight, to live in peace, to eat, to drink, to behold the earth bring forth her increase, the Sea to be navigable, that we have power to speak, to be silent, to sit, to stand, to sleep, to wake, If men did imagine what a discontentment it is to be deprived of such benefits, we should live far more contented than we do.  
What would not a sick man give for the recovery of his health? A blind man to enjoy his sight, those who are basely accounted of, for credit and renown?  
So wretched are we, that we never know what account to make of the benefits we enjoy, until we be deprived of them.  
For a conclusion, let us learn this lesson, not to set our love upon the things in this world, so much, that the fear of the loss of them do disquiet us, or the loss itself cast us into despair.   

The 13. Discourse. Of Sorrow.  
AS adversity is either small or great, so doth it cause us to grieve, wherein likewise there is some Fault. For we see now that men have gotten an use to bewail many things for no other cause, but that the custom is such.  
Some man mourneth by reason of some accidents happened to his neighbour, and changeth his countenance to show that he is very sorrowful therefore, whereas indeed there is no such matter. This kindness is unprofitable, seeing that in your own misery, you ought to grieve no more than reason requireth, and not as much as custom willeth.  
How many are there who shed tears when men behold them, and think it should be out of fashion, if they did not weep, when others do.  
Into how many encumbrances doth it cause men to run into, to lean upon Opinion?  
It should be far better, in such matters, to invent some new way, and to apprehend such accidents, as men of wisdom, & understanding.  
What do their lamentations avail either those that are dead, or such as are alive, sith that no other benefit ariseth or proceedeth thereof, then wretchedly, & without any profit, to bring a man into a consumption? Albeit that for certain, sometimes there happeneth such crosses, and mischances, that it is impossible for any man to forbear from sorrow, and yet we ought herein to lament with reason. And seeing that time ought in the end, to bring a remedy therefore, it were mere simplicytie, not with wisdom to prevent it, and to do that which by tract of time we should be constrained unto, whether we will or Noah.  
How many are there, who after the death of their children, or of their wives, have eaten and been merry and taken their recreation, deeming the time lost which they had vainly employed in sorrow and in mourning? For albeit it seemeth that such persons are worthy to be called to remembrance, or (as I may better say) that others folly may be revived by them, yet notwithstanding, you ought to apply that remedy thereunto, which will come of itself, though you should resist it.   

14. Discourse. Of the affliction of good men.  
IT is no small cause to such as are of a lively spirit, and to such as are touched with any humanity, to be grieved when they see honest men receive wrong: And surely it seemeth to be even a very hart-bursting, and more than our nature will bear, to see wise men, that live quietly, to be afflicted, trodden under foot, and overborne: and to consider how ill the world doth handle them.  
This may seem somewhat to touch us: because in our opinion it restraineth our hope, seeing that the portion of honest men, is nought else commonly but affliction.  
Wherefore if any such matter doth trouble you (as it doth commonly) imagine this, that if they are honest men, and patiented, they are so much the more happy: For so much as in steed of the pain, which they endure in this life which is so short, they shallbe rewarded eternally.  
For amongst other infinite contentments, that they do enjoy, which remain in the house of god, one especial comfort is that they are quit, & discharged of the temptations, and torments of this world.  
Besides this, set before you, the most holy persons, of the which some have been beheaded, others hanged, others burned, some flayed, others persecuted with hunger, subject to misery and affliction, which the world surely was not worthy of, and therefore hated them, as not belonging unto it. But God loved them, and by his divine providence which cannot be deceived, intended that they should pass by such tribulations, yea and that the pains which they suffer, might further prick them forwards to forsake this miserable world. So that in the end, they remove out of this prison, they escape this dungeon, and with a short apprehension of death they enter into a way which leadeth into a better life.   

The 15. Discourse. Of other men's faults.  
AFter you have settled yourself, & appeased your own passions, the offences of other men, and such faults as are committed in public will torment your mind, considering the disorder that is amongst us, which is such, that nothing remaineth in the place, where it ought, neither doth any man do his duty, which he is borne to execute.  
He which ought to be a good judge, is a simple Citizen: and he which ought to be a good Citizen, is a simple judge, and we see that he which ought to obey, doth command.  
It is a strange thing, to see how all things are corrupted, and sold, and how all things are tossed topsy turuey: how the poor is chastised for a small fault, how the law spareth rich & mighty men, and now all the practice of mankind, is nothing but to get money: and how few examples & occasions of living well, those which bear charge and hold the chiefest places do show. A virtuous man is held as a monster, hated, and abhorred.  
What should a man say, to behold that which the people affecteth, that which it desireth, that which it rejecteth, and that which it contemneth: what an alteration is this in this world, what wretchedness, that we make no account of that which we ought to hear, and disdain that we should not so much as listen unto.  
The great grief that divers and sundry persons, have taken at such matters hath caused them for to sequester themselves from the world, and to live in deserts, and solitary places: not being in any sort, able to behold that which bringeth such sorrow unto them: but desiring rather to live amongst the rocks with wild beasts, then amongst men fraught with such vices.  
Notwithstanding both in this, and in all other things, which cannot be amended, we ought to command ourselves, in such sort, that they cause us not to abhor the company of men: but rather give us occasion to look more narrowly to ourselves, to the end we be not of the number of those, who forget the duty of a wise man: and that the faults thou dost reprehend in other men, cause not others likewise to note thee for them.  
It were better to hold with Democritus, then with Heraclitus. Heraclitus bewailed the faults of men, at the which DEMOCRITUS laughed. To the one it seemed mere misery, to the other mere folly. So likewise it is better forus, when we cannot amend that which is amiss, by dissembling to appease it. And surely it is far much more humanity to laugh at the common life of men, then to weep thereat.  
Yet shall you do best of all concerning the vices of other men, and the faults which are publicly committed or done, if you keep a mediocrity, if you neither make a jest of them: nor grieve overmuch at them: it being a miserable thing, so to afflict ourselves for other men's faults, that we do pine away with sorrow, and an inhuman pastime, to make a laughing stock, or a scorn, of them.  
Now there are some, that are not vexed nor troubled with these matters, yet can they not bear with the imperfection of their friends, nay even their enemy's faults do grieve them. Honour, wrongs, tolerating of men's humours, tormenteth them: The importunity of their friends, the bad disposition of their servants, and most familiar acquaintance, afflicteth them: as we most commonly see it fall out daily. How much far better is it, to have patience in those matters, sith that a man reapeth such small profit, in seeking to amend them. We ought to make this account, that such men as take pleasure to do wrong, are like unto dogs, who are borne to bark. We ought to attribute that to their ill nature, wherewith all they are daily sufficiently tormented, with continual care, which gnaweth their bad conscience.  
But if you take occasion to stumble at all the evil, which may happily be in those that are about you, you are utterly lost. For if either the vices of other men, or of those that belong unto you, do once come to take houldt of you, and to cast you down: you will wonder how all their importunities, and griefs, will like an overflowing water, with a full course run into your bosom, as a mighty & deep Sea.  
And without doubt, we should show ourselves foolishly tender, always to afflict ourselves, if those with whom we live, do not look unto us so carefully as we desire.  
The excessive love, that we do bear unto ourselves, doth oftentimes deceive us, and the dayntines of our own estate, is the cause that we cannot bear with the negligence of our servants: Considering not that many times they cannot, nor know not how to do better.  
We do expect that they should have all perfections in them; and we ourselves, commit a thousand faults: yea and many times we storm against our servants, when our own bad conditions, or the business we are about doth make us froward, and do lay the fault on them who cannot remedy it.  
Another matter oftentimes doth disquiet us, and that is when we affect any thing over much, and so fall to quarrel with our friends about it. For there was never perfect friendship between whom there is continually a certain emulation, to obtain the upper hand.  
If you do make trial, and by continual exercise, accustom to apply yourself to time, and to persons, you shall easily govern those with whom you live, & purge those humours which you blame in them. And if some times it seemeth impossible for you to bear with them, think it proceedeth through your own fault, and weakness: Sith the number of those are infinite, who have conversed, and borne with men of like disposition.  
For as sick men are wont to say, that they are out of taste, & that all meats are bitter, imagining the fault to be in the meat, or in the Cook: and yet when they see those that are in health, eat thereof, and digest it well, they know then that the imperfections proceedeth from themselves: So in like manner, as often as you call to mind, that there are many others, who willingly do suffer those angry humours, you will then confess, that the fault cometh from yourself.  
If the froward conditions of a wife do displease you, seek if it be possible to appease her by fair means, and by reason▪ which if you cannot, yet let wisdom teach you to bear them patiently, and to dissemble that you cannot amend: otherwise, of your house you will make a prison, of your ease, a torment, and of your honour, a common song.  
Expect not wisdom in your children, which is proper to old age, sith that they are borne young: which age bringeth many things with it, which if you will on the sudden seek to make perfect, you do but bring disquietness to yourself. And if in young trees you are contented that they only bring forth leaves, why then do you look for fruit of your children before it be time: He which expecteth that which cannot be, laboureth for that which he shall never have. The best is to nourish and instruct them diligently without overmuch beating, or chiding, if they make a fault, which by you would be taught with love, how they should amend.   

16. Discourse. Of Injuries, Wrongs, and Disgraces.  
There are some men, who can bear patiently all manner of afflictions, but they cannot endure an Injury, or disgrace: the which notwithstanding cometh to pass, rather because they are so persuaded of the matter, then that it is so indeed.  
Concerning this point, it will help you much, if you can take this resolution with yourself, to exempt yourself from the common opinion, and consider those things without passion, which do disgrace a man. For by that means, you shall see, if there be any reason to take the matter so hotly, as you do.  
There is a kind of disgrace, which we do call wrong, and that is when we are greatly crossed in our business, against equity, there is likewise an other sort, which is called a Disgrace, and that is when in our own person, we are otherwise handled then is beseeming, whether it be by word, or deed.  
Touching both the which, you are to understand, that an honest man is not subject to receive a wrong (I mean not hereby, that he shall have no injury at all offered him: For there is nothing so holy, but there are some bold sacrilegious hands, that will enterprise to touch) Albeit there are many, whose tongues & hands, are not otherwise employed, but to violate the honour of God, and to pollute and rob his most holy and blessed Temples, though that honest men are not any thing at all the less assured: and albeit that they aim at them, yet can they not hit them. For a thing inviolable, is not simply, that which one cannot touch: but that which being hit, cannot be prejudiced, nor hurt: Such a one is the virtuous man, who of himself doth never give occasion that any should wrong him. Howbeit if either in jest, or maliciously he be set upon, he is as a brazen wall, which the arrows of the wicked, cannot pierce. Besides, virtue is far greater in him, who having fought, remaineth Conqueror, then in him, who never gave any stroke at all. And therefore an honest man, like unto good mettle, showeth himself the more when he is proved: Injuries do try him, but they do not enter. And yfby chance in passing by, any man doth mock or scorn him, it doth not move him, neither doth he make any reckoning thereof, assuring himself, it could not light, or happen so far.  
Besides, all men will hold the assailant for a bad person, and him as an honest man, deserving no such outrage. The force of his virtue, will appear the more by this abuse, and his mildness, will shine so much the more, by how much the injury is undeserved.  
To those who are of a weak courage, it is harder for them to bear a disgrace. Do you desire to understand how injuries, are measured by opinion. There is such vanity in worldly matters, that we are less grieved to receive a great wound, than a small blow.  
Others are more displeased with a word, then with death itself. We are grown unto such childishness, and blindness, that opinion affriteth us more than the pain itself? as it falleth out with little children, who are afeard of a mask.  
But a wise, and constant man, who judgeth of all things according to reason: like as he esteameth all things as borrowed; So doth the loss of them touch him, as things not belonging unto him. And as he would have lived contented though he had never possessed them (knowing that all things are in the disposition of the giver, and not wealth only, but even life itself, and honour) He taketh the loss which of necessity he must make of some part of them, as goods thrown overboard, to save the rest.  
Such a one hath cousined you of so many crowns: It is a wrong that he hath done you: but yet, but of part of your substance, not of all. And he that hath the heart to give the whole if need require; shall he torment himself for the loss of some portion.  
If the manner of the taking of them move you to anger, think this, that as you endure fortune and her thwartening, so it is reason that you should forbear insolent and saucy persons, who are but (as it were) the hands of fortune.  
Believe this, that our impatience doth us more harm, than they of whom we complain.  
O such a one did not rise to give me place: he had not that regard of me in talking with me, as I thought he would, he gave me not the wall: he took place before me.  
What speech is this, but complaints, growing from a soft, and tender spirit?  
Many things do vex us, which would not a whit trouble us, if we did interperet them aright, thorough our folly, and distrust of ourselves we make that a disgrace unto us which indeed is none, esteaming ourselves worthy to be used so.  
And it is want of courage, although you feel it, that you cannot make light account thereof, and tread it under your feet.  
But if we would observe how the visions, and imaginations, of the dangers which happen in our sleep, do pass away: which sometimes do move laughter, when we remember them: we might do the like with injuries, as awaking out of a sleep, wherein we were, whilst they were offered us.  
An honest man will never wrong you, neither in your substance nor in your person: and as touching the wicked, what remedy have you to grieve at them, seeing that they have no more hold of themselves, then mad men? And like as you do bear with them always, and rather pity them, then fall into anger with them, for any thing they can say or done unto you, so ought we to endure and bear with a fool and a hairebraynd fellow that is half out of his wits.  
Whatsoever a jester, or a pleasant companion saith unto you, you do take it in good part, and do think you should abuse yourself too much, if you should quarrel or contend with him: contrarily, if any merry jest, come from them, you straightways take delight therein, as a thing to make sport at; Consider then how disproportionable it is, that a word spoken by one, bringeth pleasure, and by an other debate, in as much as a colorick man, hath no more judgement than a jester.  
What should I say of those, who are moved, even with little chilldrens, and silly women? who notwithstanding do rather offend through weakness, then of any set purpose.  
To conclude, your mind will never be in quiet, if you do take all things in evil part.  
But some will say; this injury may be borne withal, but that is not to be suffered.  
These men do pen up virtue too close, and do limit the power thereof, with over-narow bounds, as if they should say, virtue may conquer this, but not that. Surely if fortune be not wholly discomforted, and defeated, it remaineth Conqueror.  
Yea but if I have given the occasion of this disgrace offered me, how can I bear it patiently without shame? If the wrong done you, do spring of your own fault, it is no injury offered you, but a correction, which you ought to receive as a wise man and take it for a chastisement, for your offence.  
If any man jest at any imperfections in your person, as to have a great nose, squint eyes, or crooked legs, you ought not to take that as an injury: For it were mere folly to take thought for that which cometh not from your fault. Fidus Cornelius, did even weep for anger, before the Senate, because that Conduba Strutio said unto him, that he was like unto a pield Camel.  
What great simplicity is this, if any man do counterfeit us, we strait ways take snuff thereat. Is it not a miserable blindness to grieve that another walketh as we do? seeing that we go, as he doth.  
The means to avoid this, were rather, if nature had deformed your body by any imperfection, to speak first thereof yourself, as one well acquainted therewith, & so by that means you should take occasion from others to jest thereat.  
VATINIUS did himself scoff at his deformed feet and neck, and by that means none of his enemies did jest at him.  
It is no small matter in holding your peace, or leaving him alone, to take away the delight from them, who thinketh to do you injury.  
Never answer an insolent or rash fellow. In keeping silence, you leave his vice, his folly, and his rashness in his mouth, and in answering him, you compare your discretion with him. For there is nothing that doth so much equal men together, as the participacon of one & the same vice: and there is no such punishment for a fool as to let his words pass without making any reckoning of them, which through your silence remain condemned as impertinent, and he loseth the pleasure, thinking to anger you.  
Likewise you ought to be advised in your jesting. For you see that men eschew the company of those, who make profession to scoff at others & there can be no certain friendship with him who spareth no man.  
Caius Caesar the Emperor, was by nature a great scoffer, he had in his army a Tribune named Cheria, who spoke somewhat small, much like unto a woman by reason whereof there was no great account made of him. When he demanded the watchword, he lightly gave him some foul word to mock him, with which disgrace he was so highly offended, that afterwards amongst those who murdered him he struck of half his head at a blow, so that he whom he deemed less than a man, showed most manhood to take him from amongst men. To use such jesting showeth great want of discretion, and not to be able to endure them, want of courage.  
SOCRATES hearing men scoff at him before his face, smiled thereat, not showing any kind of anger. It is reported of him, and of Lelius, that they had such quietness of mind, that they were never seen to change countenance.  
Moreover you ought always to avoid jars, and brawlings, for it distempereth a man very much, and changeth his conditions.  
Be temperate in your speech, and let your words be such, that they do carry weight and authority with them, and accustom yourself to pass many things in silence.  
Be not deceived with the common sort, who call them free, that can endure nothing.  
True liberty in a man, is to live as he ought, which he cannot do, who hath his mind framed to set light by these vanities, and daintiness, wherewith some are moved & shaken.  
Do you rather get the upper hand, in contemning them. For it is not a sign, that a man is in health, when as he crieth out, so often as he is touched.   

The 17. Discourse. Of Poverty.  
Whosoever doth make that account of life & death, which he ought, need not fear that poverty should afflict him, nor take away his rest: For it were far unfit for him that contemneth death, to let himself be overcome by poverty, which the common sort feeleth above other miseries: and whereof it most complaineth and in most bitter manner, being not able to attain to that sufficiency of wealth, to entertain them gaiely, nor to content themselves with necessary means, for the maintenance of their life, esteeming abundance of riches, the sovereign good of man, & poverty the chiefest misery of man. Howbeit notwithstanding is it not better to enjoy any thing at all, then to lose it when we have gotten it. Now it is impossible in this life, but we should lose, sith that one cannot abound in wealth, but many others must live in want: and no man be an inheritor, without the death of another.  
As poverty is not subject to receive great losses, so is it not accompanied with such great cares.  
If any think that they that are rich, have a stouter courage to bear their loss than others, they deceive themselves. For the grief of a wound is as painful to a great body, as to a little. Nay we commonly see, that men of greatest stature are more tender than others.  
The Philosopher BION was wont to say, that you put him to as much pain that hath store of hair, if you pluck one from him, as you do another that hath almost none on his head: the only difference is this, that he that is bold hath less cause to complain.  
This is the reason that for the most part you see poor men joconde, and merry, because they have not such cares, and do less fear a storm then rich men.  
poverty is a kingdom, and a great Lordship, which is in surety against all the world, standeth in fear of nothing; And of itself is able to defend itself against all her enemies.  
Tell me I pray thee, thou that seekest so much after this worldly substance, if since the possession thereof, thou hast enjoyed more quiet rest, or gotten greater wisdom, or lived more at hearts ease.  
The very heathens have taught us, how much poverty is to be esteemed, when they imagined the Gods were naked atributing all things unto them, they thought they stood in need of.  
As for me I will never count him poor, who is out of the power of fortune.  
This is only sufficient to teach us what poverite is, that no man speaketh of it, that doth not commend it, and do affirm that the wisest men have borne it with greatest contentment.  
It is a great weakness, and tenderness in us, not to be able to suffer that, which others have endured, and a great fear we have to leave this world. For if we desire to be accounted men, we would love that in ourselves, which we do allow in others. And therefore, albeit that our imbecility, and faintness, cannot wholly bear it, or at the least, we ought to limit our affections, and guard ourselves in such sort, that fortune may have less advantage to offend us. For a little body well covered under a buckler, is more assured, than one of great stature, who lieth discovered, and subject to many blows.  
If it were not that my purpose is to spare time, and paper, I could enlarge my discourse, by the recital of many examples aswell of Pagans, as of Christians, who have sought felicity in a poor kind of life. But the consideration of one for all shall suffice, and that is, that jesus Christ being Lord over all the world, was poor, his disciples, who possessed all, were poor: the Saints who might have enjoyed great wealth were poor.  
If you were not borne to die, I would counsel you to love riches: but I see, That they to whom all things do fall out most prosperously, do sooner bring their life to an end, than their covetousness.  
Wherefore do you labour so much, for a thing that you must leave; And why do not you rather quietly content yourself with that which is necessary & sufficient, knowing that the best sort of riches, is, neither to be too poor, nor too far from poverty.   

18. Discourse. Of death.  
IT seemeth that all crosses may be borne, either by use, or by sound discourse: but death and the apprenension thereof, is that which is most terrible.  
The remedy and true salve thereof, is that you this account, that nothing in this world is your own; neither wealth, nor lands, no nor your life: which you hold as borrowed and are as tenant at will: being that of force you must leave it, whensoever the Landeslord shall demand it of you, Notwithstanding you ought not to neglect it, as a thing you have no charge of, but rather with so much the more care have regard unto it (because you were) put in trust therewith, & restore it without murmuring & with a cheerful countenance, yielding thanks to god for the time that he hath lent it you, saying.  
O Lord; I render my soul unto thee, with a free heart, yea and with a better will than I received it. For when you gave me life you bestowed it one a silly creature, who was altogether ignorant of the good he received: and now you take it from one, who knoweth what he putteth into your hands, which he yieldeth up with a free will.  
And surely every one ought to think that it is no hard matter to return from the place from whence we come. And he hath not learned to live well, who knoweth not how to die.  
We ought to bear the like affection to ourselves as we do to those that fight a set combat. For we hate him that plays the coward, and do favour him who with a stout courage had rather die, then be conquered. Oftentimes the fear of death, is cause of his end that flieth away.  
Moreover you know, that you received your life upon this condition, that ye must die.  
Be not then so unjust to seek to enjoy that for ever, which was given you but for a certain time, Claiming title to that, which only you were put in trust withal.  
Besides, we say that the fear and apprehension of death, is a wonderful thing and the extremity of all terror; Assure you, this fault doth not proceed of death, but of our imbecility, who are taken and stayed in the pleasures, and desire of this life, and do love this miserable body of ours above measure.  
And if you do thoroughly consider the matter, it is not death that is terrible unto us, but the conceit we have thereof. For every one feareth it, according to the opinion he hath thereof, and according to his conscience. Now if this only be the cause that you fear it, charge yourself with the fault, and not death, like unto bad husbands, who are loath to come to a reckoning for the distrust of their own doings.  
To say that you fear it, imagining that it is the last end of man; you have no reason. For our soul remaineth always, which liveth and cannot die, The Grecians called death, End, giving us to understand thereby, that it is the last remainder of a miserable life.  
The holy Scripture termeth it steep, to assure us of our certain resurrection that we may not lament as the Gentiles, who have no hope.  
Consider how many holy persons, have desired it, as a remedy against misery. SALOMON, JOB, the holy scriptures, the histories of Saints, are full of the praises and desire of death, what vanity is it, for to long after this wretched life, this gail, this prison, seeing that the longer we live, the more we sin, and purchase to ourselves new pain. That we may not fear death, as the world doth, we ought to do two things: live well (because of a good and christian life, maketh even the remembrance of death comfortable) And to believe that, that which it pleased God to give us as a remedy, and ease of our labour, is not so bad, nor so much to be feared as we imagine: and we ought to remember, that holy men have abhorred life, and loved Death.    

THus have I effected what you entreated, with so much contentment to myself: that I know not whether of the two, wear sharper spurs, to set me forward in this Course: Reason, moving the duty of friendship, and desire, the pleasure I took therein. As I was not long in bringing them forth, so do I with some haste send them to you, & so leave them that I would not hereafter have them acknowledge me for their father: But wish that you might nurse them, apparel them, & bring them up, for from me they have scarce taken their essence and first being, & to say the troth, I want milk, to nourish them. And surely bearing that show, and Councenance they do, & those signs of a good mind: though they be but little, in my opinion they cannot be better then with you, who may in short time with your good endeavours, and ercelent spirit, bring them up to more greatness and perfection, & add to their greater Nobility: Dignity, Fortune & Favour.  
FINIS.