The work of the excellent Philosopher Lucius Annaeus Seneca concerning Benefyting, that is too say the doing, receiving, and requiting of good Turstes.  
Translated out of Latin by Arthur Golding.  
¶ Imprinted at London by John Day, dwelling over Aldersgate. 1578.   

¶ To the right honourable Sir Christopher Hatton Knight, Capiteine of the Queen's majesties guard, Uicechamberlaine too her highness, and one of her majesties most honourable privy counsel, Arthur Golding wisheth health and prosperity with increase in honour.  
Under hope of your honourable favour & good liking, I press now into the Court again after long discontinewaunce, attending as an interpreter upon the worthy Phlosopher Seneca, sometime a courtier, and also a counsellor of the greatest state in the world. The matter which he is too speak of, is the true manner of benefiting or doing of good turns; a thing of all others most profitable for man's life, and which maketh men like unto God. In the declaration whereof, he showeth what a benefit is; why, how, when, too what end, and on whom it is too be bestowed; what reward is too be looked for in the doing of it, and what fruit it yieldeth again. Likewise at whose hand, with what mind, and when a benefit is too be received: how and when we should requite it, or remain still debtors for it; and by what means a man may be either beneficial or thankful, even without cost or pain. His principles and precepts are, in substance, divine; in form, philosophical; in effect, fruitful. His sentences are short, quick, and full of matter; his words, sharp, piththie, and unaffected; his whole order of writing grave, deep, and severe; fitted altogether to the reforming of men's minds, and not too the delighting of their ears. But great is the liberty of truth among wise men, and yet greater is the prerogative thereof among good men. For wise men know that the wholsemost meats are not always best in taste, nor the most soverein medicines always pleasantest. And good men being desirous too have their faults rather cured than covered, do find as well in infirmities of mind, as of body, that the first step to health is too discern the disease, and the next is too receive the right Medicine for it: only too the unwise and wicked sort, truth is troublesome and odious; because they cannot abide the brightness of her countenance, nor the power and majesty of her presence. I have therefore thought this work not unmeet too be put into our Moothertung, that the more might take benefit by it; nor yet unexpedient too come in courtiers hands, who shallbe so much the greater Ornament too themselves, and too the place whereof they take their name, as their Courtesies and benefits be more and greater towards others. And how worthy it is too be embraced of counsellors; I refer me too the judgement of such as shall vouchsafe too read it. Of this I am fully persuaded, that you will think it a very fit present for me too offer unto you in respect of the place wherintoo you are called; and a sufficient Argument and witness of my dutiful good will towards you. And thus recommending this my travel too your good and honourable protection, I humbly take my leave. Written at my House in the Parish of All-Hallows in the Wall in London the xvii day of March. 1577.  
Most humbly at your commandment. Arthur Golding.   

The first book of Lucius Annaeus Seneca, concerning Benefyting, or the doing of Good turns, written too his friend Ebutius LIBERALIS.  

¶ The first chapter.  
MY dear friend Liberalis, among the many and sundry errors of our undiscreet and unadvised life: I may well say, there is in a manner nothing more hurtful, than that we know not, either how too bestow, or how too take good turns. For it followeth of consequence, that the good turns which are ill bestowed should be i● owed. And therefore if they be not requited, it is too late for us too complain, forasmucheas they were lost in the very bestowing of them. And it is no marvel that among so many and so great vices, there is none more rife than unthankfulness. I see many causes thereof.  
The first is, that we choose not worthy persons too bestow upon. But if we mind too put out money too interest, we make diligent inquiry of the lands and substance of our debtor. We cast no seed into hungry and barren soil. But as for our benefits (without any choycemaking) we rather throw them away, than bestow them. And I can not easily say, whether it be more shame too deny a man a benefit, or too claim it again. For this is such a kind of credit, as a man must receive no more of it, that is frankly offered him. Whereof too mislike, truly it is the foulest shame that can be, even in this respect, that too the discharge of this ●●edit, there neede●h not wealth, but will. For he requiteth a good turn, that oweth it willingly. But whereas those are too blame, that cannot find in their heart so▪ much as too acknowledge it: there is a fault in us also. We find many unthankful▪ but we make more. For one while we be bitter in upbraiding and challenging: an other while we be ●●ckle, and such as anon after repent us of our weldooing: and other whiles through our waywardness and finding fault at every trifle, we utterly disgrace all courtesy, not only after we have done good turns, but also even in the very doing of them. For which of us is contented with light entreatance, or with once entreatance? What is he, which suspecting that somewhat should be requested of him, hath not knit the brows, turned away his face, feigned business, with long and endless bytalke purposely cut of occasion of suit, and by sundry devices dallied out the necessity that required speed? Or if he were taken at advantage, either he hath made delays, or flatly said nay too it. Or if he granted, it was hardly, it was with a sour look, it was with murmuring words scarce uttered from the lips. But no man will gladly be in ones danger, for that which he getteth by importunateness, and not by gentleness. Can any man be beholden too such a ●ne, as either fastened a good turn upon him for a glory, or forced it upon him in a fury, or did it too be rid of trouble, because he was weary of him? He mistakes his marks, which thinks that party bound unto him, whom he hath wearied with long delay, or tormented with long lingering. Look with what mind a good turn is done with the same it is due again. And therefore it must not be done unadvisedly: (for a man oweth no thank for the thing which he hath gotten at such a ones hand, as wist not what he did) Nor slowly: (for sith the estimation of all tourtisie dependeth chiefly upon the will of the doer: he that is ●low in doing, may seem too have been unwilling) No, nor yet disdeinfully: for inasmucheas Nature hath so framed us, that shrewd turns sink deeper in our stomachs than good turns, so as the good be soon forgotten, but the other stick fast in remembrance: what can he look for, which displeaseth even in pleasuring? A man is thankful enough towards such a one, if he do but bear with his unkyndely courtesy. But there is no cause why the multitude of thankless persons should make us the ●lower too do men good. For first (as I said) we ourselves increase th● number of them. again, the Gods immortal are not driven from their needful lavishness, though men be wicked and without regard of them. They use their own Nature, and bear with the wicked: yea, and they do good even too those that abuse their gifts. Let us then follow them for our guides, so much as man's fra●●tie avoordeth. Let us give our good turns, and not put them out too usury. Worthy is he to be deceived, which minded receiving again, when he gave.  
But he hath had ill success.  
Both children and wives deceive our expectation: and yet we bring up children, and marry wives still. And we be so headstrong against experience, that being vanquished we go again too the wars, and after shipwreck, we go again too the seas. How much more than becometh it us to continue in doing good turns? Which if a man bestow not, because he receiveth not; then bestoweth he too the end he may receive, & so justifieth he the case of the unthankful, unto whom it is a shame not too requite if they may. How many are unworthy of the light? And yet the day springeth still. How many bewail that ever they were borne? And yet Nature yieldeth new issue, and suffereth those too be, which had liefer not too be. It is the property of a noble and virtuous mind, not too respect the profit of welldooing, but the welldooing itself: yea, and too do good even after it hath met with evil men. For what noblehartednesse were it too do good too many, if no man did deceive? The true nobleness then, is too bestow benefits that shall never make return, whereof the princely heart reapeth his fruit out of hand. Surely, so little ought that matter too discourage me, or too hinder the doing of so goodly a thing: that although I were past hope of finding a thankful person, yet should I rather forbear the receiving of good turns, than the doing of them. For he that doth them not, is unkind before unkindness be offered. Nevertheless, to say as I think, he that rendereth not one good turn for an other, offendeth more than he that doth it not speedily.   

¶ The second chapter.  

If lavish too all men thou purpose too be,  
A like of thy benefits: hold thee content,  
For one well bestowed, a number too see,  
On persons unthankful quite lost and misspent.   
IN the first verse, a man may find fault with both the parts of it. For neither are benefits to be lasshed out upon all men: and as for lavishenesse, it is uncommendable in any thing, and least commendable in benefits: for i● ye take discretion from them, they cease too be benefits, and may rather be called by what other name ye list. The residue that followeth, is wonderful gear, as which with the bestowing of one good turn well, comforteth the bestowing of many amiss. But see I pray you, if it be not both truer, and more agreeable too the noble heart of a well doer: That we encourage him too do good turns, even though he should bestow none well. For it is a false ground, too say that many must be lost. None is lost, forasmuch as he that foregoeth it, made his reckoning too hazard it. There is but one way for thee too do good turns: bestow them. If he render any thing, it is clear gain: and if he render not, yet it is no loss. I bestowed it too make a free-gift of it. No man keeps a register of his benefits: neither doth the covetous Usurer call daily and hourly upon his debtor. A good man never thinketh upon the good turns he hath done, except he be put in mind by him that requireth. For otherwise they pass into y● nature of de●●es. It is a vy●e usury too keep a reckoning of benefits, as of expenses. Whatsoever success thy former benefits have had, continue thou still in bestowing upon others. Better is it for thee, too let them rest among the unthankful, whom either shame, or occasion, or fear may at one time or other make thankful. Cease not too bestow: go through with thy work: and accomplish the duty of a good man. help this man with thy goods, that man with thy credit, the third with thy favour, an other with thy counsel, and an other with thy wholesome instructions.   

¶ The third chapter.  
YEa even wild beasts perceive who do them good: neither is there any beast so savage, but that by cherishing it, a man shall make it tame, and win it too love him. Lions suffer their keepers too handle their mouths, and hurt them not. Provender winneth the wild elephants, even unto slavish obedience. So much doth the continuance of diligent cherishing overcome, even those things that are without the compass of understanding, and consideration of a benefit. A man perchance is unthankful for one good turn: for an other he will not be so. He hath forgotten two: The third will bring him too remembrance of both the other that were slipped away. That man hath lost his good turn, which in haste believeth he hath lost it. But he that holdeth on, and loadeth benefit upon benefit; wresteth out kindness, even from the churlish and forgetful person. He can not have the heart too lift up his eyes against many. Wheresoever he turn himself too shun his own conscience there let him see thee. Beset him with thy benefits: and I will tell thee what the force and property of them is, if thou wilt first give me leave too overrun these things that pertain not too the matter: namely why there be three Graces, why they be sisters, and why they go hand in hand: why they look smile, why they be young, and why th●y be maidens, and apparelled in loose and sheer raiment. Some would have it meant thereby, that the one of them bestoweth the good turn the other receiveth it, and the third requiteth it. Othersome, mean that there be three sorts of benefyting: that is too wit, of be●réendyng, of requiting, and both of receiving and requiting together. But take which of these you list too be true. What doth this manner of knowledge profit us? Why walks that knot in roundel hand in hand? It is in this respect, that a good turn passing orderly from hand too hand, doth nevertheless return too the giver: and the grace of the whole is marred, if it be anywhere broken of▪ but is most beautiful, if it continue together and keep his course. The cause why they look smile, is for that the countenances of such as deserve well, are cheerful, like as theirs also is wont too be, both which bestow, and which receive benefits. Young they be, because the remembrance of good turns must never wax old. Virgins they be, because benefits must be without foil, pure, and holy too all men, wherein there ought too be no bondage nor constraint. And therefore they wear loose garments, howbeit very sheer and thin, because weldooinge are willing too be seen. Admit now that some man be so far in thraldomme too the Greeks, as too uphold that these things are necessary: yet is there no man that can deem these things following too pertain too the matter: namely, that Aegle should be the eldest, Euphrosyne the middlemost, and Thaleia the third: which are names that Hesiodus gave them. And whereas Hesiodus gave them these names upon pleasure: every man wresteth the interpretation of them according as he thinks they will best fit his own purpose, and endeavoureth too apply them unto some meening. Homer therefore changed the name of one of them, and called her Pasithea. Yea and he brought her forth unto a marriage: whereby ye may know they be no cloce nuns. I can find you another poet, that brings them forth with Girdles about them, and ears of corn in their hands. Yea and Mercury standeth with them: not because reason commendeth benefits, but because it so pleased the Peinter. Chrysippus' also (in whom is so excellent sharpness of wit, and so piercing into the bottom of the truth, who speaketh altogether too the purpose, and useth no more words than serve for the understanding of the matter:) stuffeth all his book with these toys: insomuch that he speaketh very little of the manner of the bestowing, receiving, & requiting of benefits. Neither powdereth he these things with Fables, but fables with these things. For besides the said things (which Hecaton writeth) Chrysippus saith, that the three Graces are the daughters of Jupiter and eerisome, and that they be younger than the hours, but far more beautiful of face, and therefore are appointed too wait upon Venus. Moreover he thinks the name of their mother to make greatly too the matter. For he saith she was called Eurynome, because he had need too be a man of great wealth, that should do many men good. As who would say, that mothers were wont too be named after their daughters, or that poets reported true names. Nay verily, like as a reporter of news useth boldness in stead of memory, and when he cannot reandely hit upon men's names, giveth them some name of his own making: even so Poëtes think it not material too say truth: but either upon force of necessity, or upon imagination of comeliness, they term a man by such name as sometime maketh trimly against them. Neither is it any crack too their credit, though they enlarge the matter with some new device of their own. For the last mentioned poet makes the foresaid Ladies to bear names of his appointing. And that ye may know it too be so, behold Thaleia (abow● whom is most ado) is with Hesiodus one of the Graces, and with Homer one of the Muses.   

¶ The fourth Chapter.  
BUt lest I do that thing myself, which I find fault with in others: I will ●eaue all these toys, which are so far out of the matter, that they come nothing near it nor about it. Only stand thou in my defence, if any man charged me for controlling of Chrysippus (in good sooth) a great clerk, but yet a Greek, whose sharpness of wit being over thin, is soon blunted and oftentimes turneth edge: & when it seemeth too do somewhat; it pricketh, but pierceth not through. For what sharpness of wit is this? He should speak of benefits, and set order in a thing that most of all other knitteth men together in fellowship: he should have made a law too live by, so as neither unadvised plyantnesse might be setby under colour of gentleness: nor liberality (which ought too be neither scant nor overlavish) be restrained by the same rule that goeth about too measure it. He should have taught men too receive willingly, and too requite willingly: and that those which bind men by their deeds, provoke them too a great encounter, not only how too match them, but also how too surmount them in good will, because that he which must requite; never overtaketh, if he have not outgone. The one sort were too be taught too upbraid nothing: and the other sort too think themselves the more in de●te. Too this m●st honourable striving who might overmatch other in doing good, Chrysippus exhorteth by telling us, that inasmuchas the Graces be Jupiters' daughters, we must beware that we think it not a small offence too their father, if we offer wrong too so trim Ladies. Teach thou me some of those things that may make me the forewarder too do men good, and the thankfuller too such as deserve well at my hand: whereby the minds of them that make men beholden, and of them that are beholden may strive: the bestowers too forget, and the debtors too bear in remembrance. And as for these toys, leave them up too Poëtes, whose purpose is too delight men's ears, and too frame pleasant tales. But as for those that mean too amend men's dispositions, and too maintain faithfulness in worldly affairs, and too imprint the remembrance of good turns in men's minds: let them speak earnestly, and deal effectually: unless perchance thou imagine, that the overthrow of gooddooing (the thing of all others most perilous and hurtful) may be letted by light and fond fabling, and by old wives doting reasons.   

¶ The fifth Chapter.  
BUt like as I must ourronne superfluous things: so must I needs show, that the first lesson which we ought too learn, is what we own when we have received a good turn. For some man thinks he oweth the Mouny that he hath received, another the Consulship: another the Preesthod: and another the Presidentship. These things are badges of benefits, but not the benefits themselves. The benefit itself may be carried in heart, but it cannot be touched with hand. There is great difference between the matter of a benefit, and the benefit itself. Therefore, neither Gold, nor silver, nor any of the things that we receive of our neighbours, is a benefit: but the good will of the giver. Nevertheless, the unskilful regard only the thing that is seen with the eye, and delivered with the hand, and held in possession: and as for the thing that is dear and precious in the matter, they set light by it. These things which we handle and ●ooke upon, and which our greediness is so fast tied unto are transitory. B●th misfortune and force may take them from us. But a good turn endureth still, yea even when the thing that was given, is gone. For it is such a good deed as no force can undo. As for example: I have rescued my friend from Pirates: another enemy catches him and casts him in prison: now he bereaveth him, not of my benefit, but of the use of my benefit. Again I have saved a man's children from shipwreck, or plucked them out of the fire, and delivered them home too him: afterward either sickness or unfortunate mischance takes them away from him: yet the thing that I gave in them, continueth even without them. All the things therefore that wrongfully usurp the name of a good turn, are but instruments whereby the friendly good will, uttereth itself. The same happeneth in other things likewise; insomuch that the show of the thing is one where, and the thing itself another where. The general of an Army rewards some soldier with garlands for scaling or for reskewing: What preciowsenesse hath the garland or crown it self? what hath the rob? what hath the sceptre? what hath the chair of Estate? what hath the Chariot? None of all these things is honour, but the Badge of honour. Even so the thing that is seen is not a benefit, but the sign and token of a benefit.   

¶ The vi Chapter.  
WHat is a benefit them? It is a friendly good deed, giving gladness au● taking pleasure in giving, forward and ready of it own occord, too do the thing that it doth. And therefore it is not material what is done, or what is given, but with what mind. For the good turn consisteth not in the thing that is done or given: but in the very intent of the doer or giver. And that there is great difference betwixt the said things, a man may perceive even by this, that the benefit itself is qnestionlesse good: but the thing that is done or given, is neither good nor bad. It is the meaning that advanceth small things, and ennobleth base things: that imbaceth great things, and disgraceth things of estimation. For the things that are coveted, are of their own nature neither good nor evil: the matter stands altogether upon the directing of them by the mind, which hath the rule of them, and which giveth all things their right names. Then is it not the good turn itself, that is numbered or delinered: like as also the honouring of God consisteth not in the slaughter of beasts, be they never so fat and glistering with Gold: but in the devout and right meening of the worshippers. Therefore are good men religious, though they offer but Bran in Earthen vessels: whereas on the otherside, evil men escape not the blame of ungodliness, though they imbrewe the Altars with never so much blood.   

¶ The vii Chapter.  
IF good turns consisted in the things, and not in the very will of weldooing: than should they be so much the greater, as the things be greater which we receive: but that is not so. For oftentimes we be most beholden to him that gave us small things, howbeit with great good will: that with his heart did match the wealth of Kings: that gave but little, howbeit gladly: which forgot his own poverty, too relieve mine: who had not only a good will, b●t also a desyrounesse too help me: who thought himself too receive a good turn, when he did o●e: who gave without minding too receive, and received as though he had not given: who both sought, and also prevented occasion too do me good. Contrariwise, unacceptable (as I said) are the things, either that be wrong out, or that slip from the bestower; seem they never so great in the deed doing, or in the outward appearance. And much more welcome is the thing that is given quickly, than the thing that is given with full hand. It was a small thing which that man bestowed upon me: but he was able too do no more. Again it is a great thing that this man gave me: but he cast doubts but he made delays: but he sighed when he gave it me: but he gave it disdeinfully: but he blazed it abroad, and he meant not too please him too whom he gave it: he gave it too his own vainglory, and not too me.   

¶ The viii Chapter.  
AT such time as many men (each one according too his ability) offered many things unto Srcrates: Aeschines being a poorescholer of his, said: Sir, I find nothing of sufficient worthiness too bestow upon you, and by that means I feel myself too be poor. Therefore I give unto you the only thing that I have, even myself. This present, such as it is, I pray you take in good worth: and consider that whereas others have given much unto you, they have left more too themselves. To whom Socrates answered: And why is not the gift that thou haste given me great, as well as theirs? Unless perchance thou think thyself little worth. I will do my endeavour therefore, too restore thee too thyself, better than I received thee. In this gift, Aeschines surmounted the mind of Alcibiades matched with equal riches, and also the bountifulness of all the the wealthy young men.   

¶ The ix Chapter.  
YOu see how the heart may find wherewith too be liberal even in the utter distress of poverty. He seemeth too me too have said thus: O fortune, thou ha●t won nothing by making me poor. For I will nevertheless find out a gift meet for this man: and because I cannot give him of thine, I will give him of mine own. And there is no cause why ye should think he made small account of himself: he gave himself in exchange for. Socrates Like a witty fellow, he found the means how too win Socrates too himself. We must not have respect how great things be: what manner of person he is that giveth them. Some fineheaded fellow granteth access even unto such as are unmeasurable cravers, and feedeth their importunate desires with fair words, minding not too help them at all in deed. Bu● yet worse is he too be liked of, who being churlish in speech, and sour in countenance, uttereth his case with disdain. For men do both fawn upon him that is in prosperity, and also envy him: yea and they hate him that doth but as themselves would do, if they could. Some men, because they have dishonested other men's wives, (and that not privily but openly) are content too lend their own wives unto other men. If there be any man that will not suffer his wife too setfoorth hirself too sale in her coach, and too be iaunced from place too place as a gazingstock for all men too toot at: he is a Rudesby, a Cloyne, and a cankered carl, yea and a hatingstocke among great Ladies. If there be any that hath not blazed himself by some lover, or lent his Ring too another man's wise: him do the brave Dames call a Hodip●●ke, a sorry lecher, and a singlesoaid lover. hereupon cometh it too pass, that whoredom is counted honest wedlock: and in the opinion of unwyving bachelors, noman hath wedded a wife, but he that hath inveigled her from her husband. Furthermore, they onewhyle strive to was●e whatsoever they can rap and rend: and anon with like covetouseness they strive as fast too scrape together again the things they have scattered. They set all at six and at seven, disdaining other men's poverty, and dreading their own; and as for other harm, they fear none. They spare no wrong, but make havoc of the weaker sort, and keep them under with force and fear. For, that provinces are peeled, and Offices ●hopped and changed with loving and boding fr●m man too man: it is no wonder, considering that by the law of all realms, a man may sell that which he hath bought.   

¶ The ten Chapter.  
BUT the matter itself hath provoked me too range further than I thought too have done. Therefore let us so end it, as the blame light not altogether upon our present age. This have our Father complained of, this complain we of, and this shall our posterity complain of: that good behaviour is subverted, that lewdness reigneth, and that the world decaying into all kind of wickedness, groweth every day worse than other. Notwithstanding, these things keep at one stay, and shall keep with small odds under or over, like the waves of the Sea, which the tide at his flowing bringeth further in, and at his ebbing draweth back again too the uttermost points of the shore. One while men shall sin more in whoredom than in other vices; and chastity shall have no stay of hirself. Another while outrageous feasting shall flourish, and the kitchen shall most shamefully devour men's livings. Another while the world shallbe given too overmuch curiousenesse of apparel and regard of beauty, bewraying in the body the deformity of the mind. In another age inordinate liberty shall turn too malapert behaviour and flat Ruffianrie. otherwiles men shallbe set wholly upon cruelty as well publicly as privately, and shall go toogither by the ears like madfolk, whereby all Religion and right shallbe confounded. The time will come that drunkenness shallbe had in estimation, and it shallbe counted a virtue too quaff much wine. Uyces continue not always at one stay, but are evermore fleeting and at war among themselves, and in turmoiling do heave out one another by turns. And yet for all that, we may always sing one song of ourselves: nought we are nought we were, and (loath I am too say it) nought we shallbe. The world shall never be without murderers, tyrants, thieves, Whoremoongers, extortioners, church-robbers, and traitors. Beneath all these were an unthankful person, saving that all these proceed from a thankless mind; without which there hath not lightly grown any great mischief. On thine own part eschew thou the committing of this, as the greatest fault that can be: but if another man commit it, bear with it as a light offence. For, all the harm that thou canst receive by it, is but the loss of thy good turn. But the best of it, (which is, that thou hast bestowed it) remaineth whole unto thee. Nowthen, like as heed is too be taken that we bestow our benefits specially upon such as willbe thankful for them: so must we bestow and do some good turns, even where we ha●e no good opinion at all; not only although we mistrust that they willbe unthankful hereafter, but also though we know them too have been so before. As for example. If I can save a thankless man's children from some great danger, and restore them too him without inconvenience too myself: I shall not stick too do it. As for a worthy man, I shall defend him with the loss of my blood, and hazard myself too do him good. Also if I can save an unworthy man from robbing by raising hue and cry: it shall not grieve me too avoord him my voice too do him good, because he is a man.   

¶ The xi Chapter.  
IT followeth that we declare what benefits are too be bestowed, and how. First let us bestow suchas be needful, secondly such as be profitable, thirdly sucheas are acceptable, and in any wise durable. But we must begin at such as are needful. For things that concern life or living, do touch a man's mind otherwise than the things that do but garnish, or furnish him. A man may well make light account of the thing that he may easily forbear, of which it may be said, I pass not for the having of it, I am content with that which I have of mine own: yea, and when a man can find in his heart, not only too send back the thing that he receiveth, but also too cast it away. Of things that be needful, some challenge the chief room, without which we cannot live: some challenge the second roomee, without which we should not live: and ●omme the third room, without which we would not live.  
Of the first sort be such as these: too be rescued out of the hands of enemies, from the cruelty of tyrants, from arraignment, and from the sundry and uncertain perils that besiege man's life. From whichesoever of these things we rid a man, the greater and terribler it is: the more thank shall we win. For it runneth always in their mind, from how great miseries they were delivered, and the fear that went before, is an advancing of the good turn that ensueth. Yet notwithstanding, we must not therefore use the less haste in saving of a man, than we can, too the end that fear may make our good turn of more weight. Next unto these, are the things without which we may in deed live: howbeit in suehewyse as a man had liefer be dead: as liberty, chastity, and a good mind. After these we may place the things that are dear unto us by reason of alliance, kindred, customme, and long acquaintance: as children, wives, howsehold and such other things, which the mind hath so nearly allied too itself, that it esteems it agreater grief too be pulled from them, than too die. Then follow profitable things, which have sundry and large grounds too work upon. Of this sort is money, not superfluous, but orderly prepared for necessary uses. Of this sort also is Honour, and the proceedings of them that seek too climb high: for of all profits, the best is to profit a man's self. As touching the things that serve but for delight, there is great store of them. In these we must endeavour, that they may be acceptable for their opportunity; that they be not common, but such as few have had, or few have within that time; or such as though they be not precious of their own Nature, may become acceptable for the season or place of them. Let us consider what may do most pleasure when it is offered, and what may oftest come too hand with him that shall have it, so as it may stand us in stead as oft as it is with him. In any wise let us beware, that we send not unfit presents: as hunting●eawe too a woman or an old man, or books unto a Cloyne, or nets to one that is given too study and learning. Likewise we must look about us on the contrary part; that when we mind too send acceptable things, we send not such things as may note a man's disease: as wine to a drunkard, or pothecary ware to a awkly man. For the thing becometh a Corzie, & not a courtesy, wherein the disease of the receiver is noted by it.   

¶ The xii Chapter.  
IF the choice of giving be in our own power, we must chiefly seek durable things, that our gifts may not die over hastily. For few are so thankful as too think upon a thing that they have received, when it is out of their sight. But even thankless persons stumble upon the remembrance of a gift, when they see it before their eyes, so as it suffereth them not too forget it, but presenteth and offereth unto them the giver of it. And truly so much the more durable things must we seek too give, because we must never put the receiver in mind of them. Let the very thing itself revive the remembrance of it that was vanishing away. I had liefer give silver wrought, than coy●ed: and I had liefer give Images and pictures, than apparel or a thing that w●ll soon be worn out. Few think themselves beholden for a thing when it is once gone. But there be many that never mind things given, longer than they serve their turn. Therefore if it be possible, I wllnot have my gift consumable. Let it abide with my friend, let it stick by him, let it live and die with him. None is so foolish as too need warning, that he should not send swoordplayers, or baytingbeastes too him that is gone out of office: or that he should not give Sommergarmentes to wear in Winter, or Wintergarmentes too wear in the hot summer. Inbestowing benefits, le●t a man follow common reason. Let him observe time, place, and person. For some things are acceptable or unacceptable, according too their times. How much more thanksworthy is it, if we give a man the thing he hath not, than if we give him that whereof he hath store? Or a thing that he hath long sought and could not find, than a thing that is too be had everywhere? Let presents be, not so much costly, as rare and gezon: and sucheas may bid themselves welcomme even unto a rich man: Like as common Apples which within few days after will not be worth the eating, are well liked when they come more timely than other fruits do. Also it can not be that such things should be unesteemed, as either none other man hath given them the like, or as we ourselves have not given to others afore.   

¶ The xiii Chapter.  
AT such time as Alexander King of Macedon took upon him above the state of a man, because he had counquered the East: the Corynthians sent their Ambassadors to rejoice with him of his good success, and offered too make him Lord of their city. When Alexander laughed at this kind of courtesy: we never (qd one of the Ambassadors) gave any man the protection of our city, save you and Hercules. Then took he willingly the honour that was offered him: and interteyning the Ambassadors with feasting and all other kind of royal courtesy, began to think with himself, not what they were that gave him this honour, but what he himself was too whom they had given it. And being a man given all too glory, (whereof he knew neither the nature nor measure) in following the footsteps of Liber and Hercules, (yea and not staying there where they left of,) he turned his eye from the givers, too him with whom they had matched him in honour. As who would say, that because he was matched with Hercules, he had already gotten up too heaven which he had apprehended in his own vain imagination. For what likeness was there between Hercules and this mad young springal, whom prosperous rashness served in stead of valiantness? Hercules winning nothing too himself, traveled over the whole world, not conquering it, but setting it at liberty. For what could he win, that was an enemy too the evil, a defender of the good, and a pacifier both of sea and Land? But Alexander was from his childhood a Robber, a waster of Countries, a destroyer of his friends as well as of his foes, and such a one as made it his chief felicity too be a terror too all men: forgetting that not only the féercest, but also even the cowardliest beasts are feared for their hurtful poison.   

¶ The fourthtene Chapter,  
NOw let us return again too our purpose. The benefit that is bestowed upon every man without exception, is bestowed upon noman. Noman thinks himself beholden too an innkeeper or too him that keeps an ordinary table, for his interteinement● neither doth any take himself for a bidden gwest, too him that makes a common feast, whereof it may be said, what hath he bestowed upon me? Marry even as he bestowed upon this man whom he was scarce acquainted with, or upon that man that is his utter foe yea and perchance a very varlet. What? did he think me a worthy person? no, he did it but too feed his own humour. Look what thou wooldest have well accepted, that make thou gezon. Who can abide too be cloyed with any thing? Let noman so construe these words as though I w●nt too restrein liberality, and too rain it back with a rough bit. Let it go at as large scope as it liste●h: but let it go, & not gad. A man may give in such wise, as although a number receive all of one thing, yet everyman shall think himself too be made more account of than y● rest. Let everyman have some familiar token, whereby he may conceive opinion, that he was better accepted than others. Let him say, I have received the same thing that he did: but mine was unrequested. I received the same that he did: but in shorter time, whereas he had deserved it long afore There are that have the same thing: but not given with like words, nor which like courtesy of the bestower. He obtained it by entreatance: but I was entreated too take it. This man received as well as I: but he is able too requite it eas●y, and he is such a one as his age and lack of children promise great things. Although he gave us all one thing: yet was his gift greater too méeswards, because he gave where there is no hope too receive. Like as a courtizane so imparteth hirself unto many ●ouers, as none goeth away without some sign of her kind heart: even so he that purposeth too have his good turns well liked, deviseth both how he may make many beholden unto him, 〈◊〉 yet that each one of them may have some peculiar point, wherein too prefer himself before the residue. But I will be no hinderer of gooddooing. The more and the greater that they be, the more commendation do they procure. Nevertheless, let discretion be used. for noman can like well of the things, that are done at all adventures and unadvisedly. Wherefore if any man think us (in giving these precepts) too straighten the bounds of welldooing, and not too give it free scope enough: undoubtedly he misconstrueth our lessons. For what virtue do we more reverence? To what virtue give we more encouragement? Or too whom belongeth it so much to exhort men thereto, as unto us which endeavour too establish the society of mankind?   

The xu Chapter.  
WHat then? Inasmuch as there is no operation of the mind commendable (no not although it proceed from a right intent) saving such as is measured by the rule of virtue: I forbidden liberality too run royet. Then doth it a man good too receive a benefit, (even with open hands) when reason leadeth it unto the worthy, & not when every light occasion and unadvised géerishnesse offereth i●: the which a man may vaunt of as clear gotten good, and thank noman for it but himself. Termest thou them good turns, the author whereof thou art ashamed too be acknown of? How much more acceptable are they, and how much more deeply sink they into a man's breast never too departed again, when it delighteth him too think, rather of whom, than what he hath received: Crispus Passienus was wont too say, he had liefer have some men's judgement than their benefit, and some men's benefit than their judgement: and he added examples. I had liefer (sayeth he) too have the good opinion of the Emperor Augustus: and I had liefer have the benefit of Claudius. But I am of opinion that nomannes' benefit is too be desired, whose discretion is too be misliked. What then? was not the gift of Claudius too be received? Yis marry was it: howbeit as at fortune's hand, who (as men know) may by-and-by become evil. Why then divide we these things that are interlaced toogither? It is no good turn which wanteth the best part of itself, that is too wit, too be done with discretion. Otherwise, a great mass of money (if it be not given with discretion and with right meaning) is no more a benefit, than a Treasure. There be many things that a man may receive, and yet not be indebted for them.  
The end of the first book.    

¶ The second book of Lucius Annaeus Seneca, declaring in what wise a benefit or good turn ought too be bestowed.  

¶ The first chapter.  
MY very good friend Liberalis, let us consider that which remaineth of the former part: that is too wit, after what sort good turns are too be done. Whereof I thinks I can show a very ready way. Let us so do, as we would by'r done unto. Before all, let us do them willingly, speedily, & without sticking. Scarce worth gramercy is the good turn, that cleaveth long too the hands of the bestower; which a man seemeth loath too forego, and which he seemeth too departed with in such wise, as if it were wrested from him perforce. If there happen any delay, let us in anywyse be ware that we seem not too have cast doubts of the matter: for he that doubteth, is next cousin to him that denieth; and such a one deserveth no thanks. For seeing that in a benefit, the acceptablest thing is the good will of the bestower: he that by his long lingering witnesseth himself too bestow unwillingly, bestoweth not at all; But untowardly draweth back from him that would fain hale him on. Many there be that become liberal, because they have not the countenance too say a man nay. Most acceptable are those benefits that are ready at hand, that come ●asely, and wherein there is no stop but the modesty of the receiver. The best point is too outgo a man's desire, and the next is too follow it. But yet is it farbetter too prevent it, before we be requested. For inasmuch as an honest man is out of countenance, and ashamed too crave: he that releaceth him that torture, dubbleth his good turns. He that obteynes a thing by entreatance, comes not freely by it. For (as it seemed too our ancestors, who were men of very grave consideration,) nothing is bought more dearly, than that which is gotten by entreatance. Men would pray very seeldomme, if they should pray openly: So much had we liefer to make our petitions secretly, and within ourselves, yea, even too the Gods, unto whom we may do it with most honesty.   

¶ The second chapter.  
IT is a sore and a heavy word, yea, and such a word as will make a ma● too cast down his head in his bosom, too say, I beseech you sir. we must discharge our friend of that word, yea, and whomsoever w●e purpose too make our friend by our good usage. Make he never so much haste, yet giveth he too late, that giveth upon entreatance. Therefore we must guess what every man would have: and when we understand it, we must ease them of that most grievous necessity.  
Assure thyself that that benefit doth a man good at the heart, and will continue long in remembrance, which meeteth a man at the half turn. If it be not our hap to prevent one's request: lette●vs cut him of from many words, lest we may seem too be sewed unto: and assoon as we know his mind▪ let ●s grant it out of hand, and let us show by our hastemaking, that we would have done it unrequested. For like as in sickfolke the coming of some meat in dew time hath brought health, and the giving of water in season hath remedied the disease: even so, be the benefit never so mean and small, yet if it come ridely without linger or for●lowyng of time, it greatly advanceth itself, and winneth more thank than a costly present that is s●owe in coming, and long breathed upon.   

¶ The third chapter.  
NO doubt but he that doth so ridily▪ doth it willingly, And therefore he doth it cheerfully, with a countenance agreeable too his mind. Some men have disgraced their great good turns by counterfeiting a gravity and soberness in holding their peace or speaking leisurely, because they granted them with countenance of denial. How much better is it too m●●che good words with good deeds, and too beautify the things that thou performest, with courteous and gentle speech? Too the end the party may blame himself for being too s●owe in ask, thou mayst find fault with him in such familiar manner as this. I am angry with you, that whereas you wanted any thing, you have not made me privy too it sooner, or that you have troubled yourself too sew for it, or that you have used any other mean than yourself. But for mine own part, I am glad that it pleased you too try my good will. whatsoever you have need of hereafter, you shall command it at your pleasure. I will bear with your bashfulness for this once.  
So shalt thou make him too set more by thy good will, than by the thing that he came too desire, whatsoever it be. Then is the bountifulness of the giver great, then is his courtesy great: when the party that is gone from him shall say too himself, This day have I made a great purchase. It doth me more good that I have found him such a one, than if the thing had come double and triple too me another way. For I shall never be able too requite this good will of his.   

¶ The fourth Chapter.  
BUt there be many that bring their benefits in hatred by their rough words and stately looks, using such language and pride, as it would irk a man too have obtained the thing at their hands. Again, when they have granted, there follow delays. But truly there is no greater corzie, than too be driven too ●ew for that which a man hath gotten grant of already. It is a harder matter too get a good turn out of some men's hands, when it is granted, than too get grant of it; and such must be called upon. One must be prayed too put him in remembrance, and another too take it up. And so one gift is tossed through many men's hands, by means whereof the least part of thanks redoundeth too the giver. For whosoever is sewed unto afterward, must needs be a derogation too the first granter. Therefore if thou wilt have the performance of thy good turns accepted thankfully: thou must deal so, as they may come whole and untasted unto them whom thou hast promised, without any abatement as they term it. Let noman have too deal with them by the way. For noman can make his own ●han●e of that which thou myndest too give, but that he must diminish thine.   

¶ The fifth chapter.  
NOthing is more grievous than long linger. Some can better b●are a flat nay, than too be foad of. But it is the fault of divers men, too delay the performance of their promises through a fond vaingloriousenesse, lest the number of their suitors should abate. Of which sort are the Officers in kings courts, and suchas bear authority about Princes, which have a pleasure too behold the long train of their own pride, and think themselves able too do little, if they set not out their port too every man, by making them dance attendance a long while. They do nothing out of hand, they dispatch nothing at once. They be swift too do harm, but slow too do good.  
Wherefore assure thyself it is most true which the Comical Poet sayeth: What? Perceivest thou not that the longer thy delay is, the less is thy thank? hereupon come these speeches, which the gentle heart uttereth with grief. If thou do the thing, do it out of hand. Nothing is worth so much sewt. I had liefer now too have a flat nay: for I am so weary of way●ing for the benefit, that my heart beginneth too hate it.  
Can a man be thankful for such dealing? Like as it is a point of a most bitter cruelty, too prolong a man's punishment, and a kind of mercy too kill him out of hand, because speedy torment bringeth end too itself, and the time that goeth before execution, is the greatest part of the pain that followeth with it: even so, the less while a good turn hath lingered, the better welcome is it. For even in good things▪ linger is grievous too such as long for them. And whereas many benefits may remedy some man's necessity: he that either suffereth the party too be long martyred, whom he may dispatch out of hand, or delayeth his gladness: fordooeth his benefit with his own hands. All courtesy maketh haste▪ and it is the property of a weldooer, too do things willingly and quickly. He that hath given slowly, and done a man good with delay of time, hath not done it with his heart. And so hath he lost two chief things at once; that is too wit, both his time, and the trial of his friendly good will. For too meene a thing slowly, is as much as not too mean it at all.   

¶ The vi Chapter.  
IN all matters (my friend Liberalis) the manner how any thing is said or done, is not the smallest part. Speediness hath much helped, and delay hath much hindered: like as in darts the power of the steel is all one, and yet there is exceeding great odds, whither they be thrown by a forcible arm, or whither they be let slip from a lazy hand. One self-same sword may both prick & pierce through: the matter is, with what force the arm sendz it. Likewise the thing that is given is all one: but the manner of the giving maketh the difference. How sweet and how precious is the gift, when he that gave it suffered not himself too be thanked for it, but forgot his giving of it by that time he had given it? For too check a man though thou do never so much for him, or too mingle taunts with thy good turns, is a madness. benefits therefore must not be made bitings, neither must they be sauced with any sourness. If there be any thing whereof thou wouldst warn him, take some other time for it.   

¶ The vii Chapter.  
SUch a good turn, hardly bestowed by a churlish person, Fabius Verucosus was wont too call stony bread▪ which a hungry body must needs take, though it be too his pain. Tiberius' Caesar being desired of his Nephew Marcus Aelius sometime praetor of Rome, to help him out of det, bade him give him a Bill of his Creditors names. This was no rewarding, but a calling toogither of his Creditors. When the Bill was exhibited, he wrote too his nephew, that he had given order for the payment of the Monnie. By which reproachful admonition he brought to pass, that his Kinsman was neither indebted to others, nor beholded too him. Somewhat there was that Tiberius meant by it. I believe he was loath that any more should trouble him with the like sewte. Peraduentur it might be 〈◊〉 speedy way too repress men's importunate suits with shame: But he that will bestow benefits, must utterly follow a clean contrary way.   

¶ The viii Chapter.  
IN all things that thou givest, too the intent it may be the more acceptable, thou must beautify it by some means or other. This dealing of Tiberius, is not too do a man a good turn, but too take him in a trip. And by the way, that I may say what I think in this case also; It scarcely standeth with the honour of a Prince, too reward a man too shame him withal. Yet for all that, Tiberius could not escape disquietting by that mean that he thought too have done. For there were divers afterward, which made the same sewte unto him: all whom he commanded too show the causes of their Det too the Senate, & thereupon gave certain sums among them. This is not a liberality: it is a check: it is a poor help, it is a Princis alms. That is no benefit which I cannot remember without blushing. I was sent too the judge, and I was fain to plead my case before I could get any thing.   

¶ The ix Chapter.  
Therefore all Authors of wisdomme teach, that some benefits must be bestowed openly, and some secretly. Openly, which are a praise too attain: as rewards of chivalry, and honour, and whatsoever else becometh more honourable by being known. But asfor the things that advance not a man's credit or estimation, but relieve his weakness, his want, or his shame: they must be given secretly, so as they may be known to none but those that take good by them. 
●et not thy ●●ght hand ●●nowe what ●hy left hand ●ooeh.  Yea and sometimes even he that is too be helped must be beguiled, so as he may have the thing, and yet not know of whom he had it.   

¶ The ten Chapter.  
ARcesilaus (as the report goeth) having a poor friend that cloaked his own poverty, which was also sick and would not be acknown of it, nor yet that he wanted wherewith too bear out his needful charges: considered how he was too be succoured secretly, and put a Bag of Gold under his Bolster without making him privy too it, to the intent that the man which was shamefast too his own hindrance, might rather find the thing that he wanted, than receive it. What then? shall he not know of whom he had it? At the first let him not know it, sith the not knowing of it is a piece of the good turn. I will afterward do many other things, and I will give him many things, whereby he may understand from whence the other came. Finally though he know not whence he had it, yet shall I know who gave it. That is too small purpose, say you. Too small purpose in deed, if thou mind too take Loan for it. But if thou mentest too give it in such wise as might most avail him that received it; thou wilt give it freely, & thou will desire no more witnesses but thyself. Otherwise thy meening is not too do well by him, but too seem too have done well by him. But (say you) I will have him know it. Then seek you too make him your debtor. No, but I would have him know it. What if it be more for his behoof, not to know it? what if it be more for his honesty? what if it be more too his liking? will you not be of another mind? I tell you I would have him know it. So shalt thou not keep the man in darkness. I deny not but that as oft as the case will bear it, a man may reap pleasure of the good will of y● receiver. But if he stand in need of help, and is ashamed too have it known; if the thing that I bestow upon him shall grieve him if it be not concealed from him: I will not make my benefit a matter of record. For why should I discover myself too him to have given it, seeing it is one of the first and most vecessarie Rules, never to upbraid a man, no nor never too cipher it unto him? For the law of benefyting between men is this: That the one must forthwith forget that he hath given, and the other must never forget what he hath received. For the oft rehearsal of good deservings, doth greatly fret and grieve the mind.   

The xi Chapter.  
I can find in my heart too krye ou●, as the man did that was not able too bear the pride of certain friend of the Emprors, which had saved his life at such time as the Triumuirs proclaimed traitors whom they listed. Put me into Caesar's hand again, (quoth he). How often sayest thou too me, I have saved thee, I have delivered thee from death. If I make mention of it of mine own free will, it is life: but if thou put me in mind of it, it is death. If thy saving of me was too make a vaunt of me, I own thee nowght. How long wilt thou lead me about as a gazing-stock? how long will it be ere thou suffer me too forget my misfortune? In y● triumph I should have been led about but once. We must never make words of that which we have done for any man. He that tells him of it, demands it again. But he must not be urged, he must not be put in remembrance, otherwise than by revyuing the former benefit by the bestowing of another: no, we may not tell it unto other folks. Let him that hath done the good turn, hold his peace: and let him that received it blaze it abroad. For else it willbe said unto him, as one said too a man that was boasting evyrewhere of his good turn that he had done: Wilt thou deny that thou hadst recompense? and when he answered where or when? Oftentimes and in many places (said he): namely as often and in as many places as thou hast babbled of it abroad. What néededest thou too tell it out? what neededest thou too take another man's office out of his hand? There is another man that might have done it with more honesty, upon whose good report, this also would turn too thy praise, that thou ●ellest it not abroad thyself. Thou must needs condemn me for a churl, if thou think that noman should have known it but by thine own reporting. Which dealing is so much too be eschewed, y● if a man should make report of our benefits before our faces, we should answer, Truly he is right worthy of greater benefits, which I know myself more willing than able too perform. And this must be spoken, not as of one that would set himself too sale, nor with such colorablenesse as some men put the things from them which they would feignest draw too them. Besides this, 
Be not ●eerie of doo●● good.  there must be added all manner of courtesy. The husbandman shall lose that he hath sown, if he leave his labour at the seed. It requireth much pain too bring the seed too harvest. Nothing cometh too yielding of fruit, if it be not thoroughly tended and husbanded from the first too the last. In like case is it with benefits. Can there be any greater than those that fathers bestow upon their children? Yet were all but lost, if they should give them over in their childhood, and not cherish their charge foorthon with continual kindness. All other benefits are in the same state. If you help them not forward, 
The ground of all good doing is love from an unfeigned heart.  you lose them. It is too small purpose too have bestowed them: they must be still cherished. If thou wilt have them thankful whom thou makest beholden unto thee: thou must not only be beneficial to them, but thou must also love them. Inespecially (as I said) let us not trubble men's ears. Rehearsal breedeth irksomeness; and upbraiding, hatred. In doing good turns, nothing is too be eschewed so much as pride. ●hat needeth any high looks? what needeth any great words? The thing itself advanceth thee. Uayne vaunting must be put away. The things themselves will speak although we hold our peace. A good turn that is done with pride, is not only thankless, but also hateful.   

¶ The xii Chapter.  
C Aesan gave Pompey of Africa his life (if at leastwise he may be said too give, which taketh not away): and afterward when he came too give thanks for his Pardon, he offered him his left foot too kiss. Such as excuse Caesar, say he did it not for any pride, but only too show his Gilt or rather his Golden shoe set with pearl and precious stones. And so, what dishonour was it for a nobleman and a consuls peer, too kiss Gold and pearl?  
And could that caitiff, borne for the nonce too change the customs of his free country into Persian ●●auerie, could he (I say) pick out no clenlyer part of all his body too be kissed? Thought he it a small matter that an ancient senator, should so far abase his honour, as to cast himself down at his feet, in the presence of Princes, in such sort as vanquished enemies have been wont too couch at the feet of their Conquerors? He had found a place beneath his knees, too thrust freedom and liberty down unto. Is not this a trampling of the common weal under foot? In good faith (will some man say) it can make nothing to the matter, that he did it with his left foot. For it had not been a prank of pride fowl and outrageous enough, too sit upon the life of a consuls peer in shoes of gold and pearl, except that like a lusty Gallant, he had also thrust his gouty feet into the Mouth of a senator.   

¶ The xiii Chapter.  
Oath pride of great prosperity! O most mischievous folly! How happy is it too receive nothing at thy hand! O how thou turnest every benefit into bane! O how thou delightest too overdoo all things! O how all things disgrace thee, and the higher that thou advauncest thyself, the more art thou abased! Thou showest thyself not to know these good things wherewith thou art so puffed up. What soever thou givest, thou marrest it. Therefore I would fain weet of thee what it is that maketh thee so careless, what altereth so thy look & countenance, that thou hadst liefer have a visor than a face. Pleasant are the things that are given with a courteowse and gentle countenance, which when my superior gave me, he triumphed not over me, but behaved himself as familiarly as could be, and made himself fellowlyke with me, & without any glorious setting out of his gift, waited a convenient time too pleasure me, rather upon occasion than upon constraint. There is but one way too persuade such manner of men that they should not mar their benefits through their own stateliness: namely too show them that their benefits are not the greater, because they be given with greater ado; nor they themselves the better thought of for so doing: but that the greatness of their pride being fond, causeth things otherwise worthy of love, too be hated.   

¶ The xiiii Chapter.  
THere are some things that would turn too the hurt of the receiver; the which it is a benefit too deny, and not too perform. And therefore we must rather consider the profit of the demaunders, than their▪ desire. For oftentimes we covet hurtful things, and we be not able to discern how noysomme they be, because affection blindeth reason. But when our passionateness is well settled, and the rage of the fiery fury that chased away discretion, is thoroughly allayed: them hate we the mi● bestowers of these hurtful gifts. Wherefore like as we de●ye cold Water too sickfolkes, and weapon too such as be in sorrow or rage; and whatsoever the heat of love desireth too use against itself, too such as be in love: even so must we continue too deny hurtful things too those that earnestly, humbly, yea and oftentimes also rewfully request them. It becometh men too have an eye, both too the beginning and too the ending of their benefits and good turns, and too give such things as may like a man, not only at the receiving of them, but also ever after. There be many that will say, I know it will do him no good: but what should I do? He entreateth me, and I cannot withstand his request, let him look too himself, he shall not blame me. That is untrue. For he shall blame thee, and that worthily too, when he is come too his right wits again, and when the fit that inflamed his mind is overpast, for why should he not hate him, by whom he was furthered too his hurt and peril? It is a cruel kindness too be entreated too mischief one. Like as it is a goodly point of charity to save men that be even loath and unwilling too be saved: so is it a fawning and courteous kind of hatred, too grant things hurtful too those that desire them. Let our benefit be such as the use of it may make it still better belyked, and such as never may turn too harm. I shall not give a man money, if I may know he will bestow it upon a harlot, lest I be found too be a maintainer of his filthy act or purpose. If I can, I shall call him from it: if not, I shall not further his wickedness. Whither anger drive a man too do that he ought not, or whither the heat Ambition withdraw him from his welfare: yet shall I not suffer him too mischief himself, neither shall I give him cause too say afterward, He hath killed me with his kindness.   

¶ The xu Chapter.  
Oftentimes there is no defference between the pleasuringe of friends, and the practises of foes. For look what the enemy could have wished, that doth the unseasonable overkyndnesse of the friend, both force unto, and arm unto. And what fouler shame can there be, than that there should be no difference between a bane and a benefate? which thing cometh too pass overoften. Let us never give things that shall redound to our own shame. For seeing that the highest poi●t of friendship, is for a man too set as much by his friend as by himself: both parties must be provided for alike. I will give too him that wanteth, but so as I want not myself, I will secure one that is like too perish, but so as I perish not myself, except I may be the borrow of some singular person, or of some great thing.  
I will bestow no such benefit, as I could not ask with out shame.  
I will neither enhance small things, nor suffer great things too be taken for small. For like as he that twitteth a man by that he hath given him, doth mar the grace of his gift: even so he that doth but show, how much he hath given too one that abaceth the same, doth but commend his gift, and not upbraid it.  
Every man must have an eye to his own ability and power, that we bestow neither more nor less than we be able.  
We must consider the person of him to whom we give. For some things are too small too come from great men: and some are too great for him that should receive them. And therefore weigh with thyself, the person of either of them. When thou myndest too bestow, examine whither the thing be more than the giver can forbear, or whither it be too little for him too bestow: and again, whither he that is too receive it, may hold scorn of it; or whither it be more than is meet for him.   

¶ The xvi Chapter.  
ALexander being undiscreet, and minding none but over great things, gave one a city. When he too whom it was given, measuring himself in himself, re●uzed it for ●eare of being envy for so great a reward, saying it was not agreeable too his estate: I pass not (qd Alexander) what becometh thee to receive, but what it becometh me too give. It seemeth too be a noble saying, and yet being a Kings saying, it is most foolish. For nothing becometh any man, in respect of himself alone. The respects that make it comely, are what, to whom, when, why, where, and such other, without which there is no reason in doing. Proud peacock, if it become not him too receive it, neither becometh it thee too give it. There is a proportionable respect of persons and degrees. And seeing that on either side, the 〈◊〉 is the mean; as well is that a fault that overreacheth, as that which cometh too short. Well, admit it be lawful for thee, and that Fortune hath so highly advanced thee, that thou mayst give whole Citées for rewards, in the not receiving where of, there was more noble courage, than in the reckless gift of them: yet is there some man too mean too have a city thrust into his bosomme.   

¶ The xvii Chapter.  
ONe of Diogenes' sect desired Antigonus too give him a talon. 
●●●ueling in ●●●oing good ●nes.  Antigonus answered it was more than one of the doggish sect ought too crave. Upon this denial he desired a penny. Antigonus answered it was less than became a king too give. Such caviling is too shameful. He found a shift too give neither of both. In the penny he respected his own royalty, and in the talon the others beggary: whereas notwithstanding the might have given the penny as to a beggar, and the talon as a king. But admit there may be some thing to great for a beggar to receive: yet is there nothing so small, which the courtesy of a Prince may not give with his honour. If you demand mine opinion, I allow the dealing of Antigonus. For it is not too be borne with, that a man should both crave monnie, and contemn it. Thou hast vowed the hatred of monnie: it is thy profession: thou hast taken that part to play: and thou must play it thoroughly. It is against right and reason, that thou shouldest gather monnie under the glory of begging. 
●●he persons ●●●othe of the ●●●uer, and of ●●e receiver ●●ust be considered.  A man therefore must as well consider his own person, as the person of him whom he mindeth too relieve. I will use my frer●d chrysippus' similitude of the play at the ball, which doubtless falleth 〈◊〉 the ground, if either the sender or the receiver miss his stroke. It do●eth then keep his ●ourse, when it is featly tossed and turned from hand too hand on both sides. It be●oueth the good player too ●●rike it after one sor●e, if his play fellow be a 〈◊〉 man, & after another if he be a low man. In like case is it with a good turn. For except it be fitly applied to both persons, as well of the doer, as of the receiver: it shall neither pass from the one, nor come to the other in such wise as it ought too do. If we have too do with a practised and skilful player, we may strike the ball the boldlier: for howsoever it cometh, a ready and nimble hand will strike it back again. But if we deal with a novice and a learne●, we must not encounter him so roughly, nor with so full blow, but we must meet the Ball leisurely and softly, and as it were lead it into his hand again. The like thing is too be done in benefits. We must train on some men, and think it enough if they putfoorthe themselves▪ if they adventure, and if they be willing. But commonly we ourselves do make men unthankful, and we like well of it that it should be so: as who would say, our benefits were therefore the greater, because the party is not able too requite them, according to the manner of wrangling gamester's, which find fault with their playfellows for the nonce, to the intent too give over the game, which cannot be continued but by consent. Many are of so untoward a nature that they had liefer lose that which they have bestowed, than too seem too have reteived aught, they be so proud and so scornful. But how much better, and how much greater cour●e●ie were it, too deal so as the otherside might play their parts also; and so too bear with them, as they might be able too show themselves thankful; and too construe all things too the best, and too like of him that yieldeth thanks, no less than if he yielded recompense; and too behave one's self so gently, that look whom he hath most bound, him he is most willing to discharge? The Usurer is wont too be ill spoken of, if he be too hasty in demanding: and as ill he spoken of, if he seek delays and be ●lowe and loath to receive. As well is a good turn too be received again, as not too be exacted again. He is best that giveth ridely, and never exacteth again. He that receiveth the re●●●ne of a benefit, with like mind as if he receiue● the first gift of it: is glad that it is rendered, and yet forgetteth in good earnest what he had done for the other.   

¶ The xviii Chapter.  
SOme men not only bestow good tur●es skornfully, but also receive them skornfully: which is not too be committed. For now we will pass too the other part, and show how men ought too behave themselves in receiving good turns. Therefore where a duty consisteth of two parties: there is required as much of y● one as of the other. When a man hath looked what manner a one a Father ought too be; he shall understand, there remains as much work for him, too see what manner a one the son ought too be. There ●e certain duties requisite in the husband; and no less is looked for in the wife. As much as these do require one of another, so much also do they own one another; and are to be measured all by one rule, which (as Hecaton sayeth) is hard. For all honest things are hard too attain unto, and so are the things that approach near too honesty. For they must not only be done, but they must be done with reason. She must be our guide too follow all our life. All things both small and great must be done by her advice: according as she counseleth, so must we give. The first thing that she will teach us, is that we must not take at all men's hands. Of whom then shall we take? Too answer thee in few words, of them too whom it may beseem us too give. For certes we ought too be more precise in seeking too whom we may make ourselves debtors, than on whom we may bestow. For although there follow none other discommodity; (as there follow very many) Yet is it a great corzie too be in danger too such a one as thou wouldst not. Contrariwise it is the greatest pleasure in the world, too have received a good turn at such a man's hand, as thou couldst find in thine heart too love, even after he hath done thee wrong. But for a man too be driven too have him of whom he hath no liking; it is too an honest and shamefast mind, the greatest misery that can be. I must always put you in remembrance, that I speak not of perfect wise men: which like whatsoever they ought too do, which have their wills at commandment, which bind themselves whereunto they list, and perform whatsoever they have bound themselves unto: but of unperfect men, which have a desire too follow honesty, but their affections are stubborn in obeying. Therefore he must be a chosen man, at whose hand I should receive a benefit. And truly I ought too be more heedful too whom I indette myself for a benefit, than for money. For too him that lends me money, I must pay no more than I have taken: and when I have paid it, I am free and discharged. But unto the other I must pay more: and when I have requited him, yet nevertheless I am still beholden to him. For when I have requited I must begin new again, & friendship warneth me too admit no unworthy person. So is the Law of benefits a most holy law, whereout of sprinketh friendship. Some man will say, It lies not always in mine own power too refuse: I must sometime take a good turn whither I will or no. A cruel and testy tyrant proffers me a gift, & if I refuse it, he will think I hold scorn of him. Shall I not take it? Put the same case of a Murderer or a pirate, as of a Tyrant that hath a murdering and thievish heart: what shall I do? He is not worthy that I should be beholden to him. When I say thou must make choice too whom thou wilt be beholden; I except force and fear, in whose presence choice hath no place. If it be free for thee, if it be at thine own discretion too take or refuse: then advise thyself what to do. But if constraint bar thee of thy liberty, thou must understand that thou dost not receive, but obey. Noman is bound by the receiving of that which he might not refuse. Wilt thou know whither I be willing or no? then set me at liberty too be unwilling if I list. But what and if he have given thee life? It makes no matter what it be that is given▪ except it be given willingly too one that is willing too have it. Although thou have saved me, yet art thou not therefore my saviour. poison hath some times healed a man; and yet is it not therefore counted a wholesome thing. Some things do a man good, and yet they bind him not.   

¶ The xix Chapter.  
A certain man that came too kill a Tyrant, happened too lance a bile of his with his Sword: and yet the Tyrant kund him no thank for his curing of that thing by hurting him, which the surgeons were afraid too set hand unto. You see there is no great weight in the deed itself. For he seemeth not to have done him a good turn, which did it with purpose to have done him harm. For he may thank chance for his good turn, & the man for his harm. I saw once a lion in the round lists, which knowing one of the condemned men that had been his Keeper aforetimes, defended him from the assaults of the other beasts. Was not this lions help a benefit? No verily, because the lion neither had will too do it with all, nor did it of purpose to do good. Look in what case I put the wild beast, in the same put thou also the Tyrantqueller. For both he and the beast gave life, and yet neither he nor the beast did a good turn, because that too he compelled to receive a good turn, is no good turn in deed. It is no benefyting too make a man beholden whither he will or no. For first thou must give me free liberty of myself, and then offer me thy good turn.   

¶ The twenty Chapter.  
IT is wont too be a question concerning Marcus Brutus, whither he ought to have accepted his life at julius Caesar's had, seeing he judged Caesar worthy of death. What reason led him to kill him, I will declare another tyme. For although in all other things he were a noble man: yet in this case me thinks he was far overshot, and behaved not himself according to too the discipline of the stoics, inasmuchas he either feared the name of a King, whereas the best state of a ●ammon weal is under a rightful king; or hoped for freedomme where there was so great reward both of sovereignty and slavery; or imagined that the city might be brought back again too her former state, when she had lost her former conditions, or that indifferency of justice might continue and laws stand in force, where he had seen so many thousand men fight, too whither party they should become slaves. But how quite had he forgotten the nature of the world, or of his own country, which believed that if one were dispatched, there were no more of the same mind; seeing that after so many kings s●ayne by sword and lyghteninges, there was yet still a Tarquyne too be found? Yet for all this, Brutus might have taken life at Caesar's hand: but he should not have accepted such a one for his father, as had wrongfully purchased that power too▪ do him good. For he saves not a man, which kills him not: neither doth he benefit him, but dismiss him.   

¶ The xxi Chapter.  
THis may rather come in question, what a prisoner should do, when a man of filthy life and slanderous tongue proffereth too pay his ransom for him. Shall I suffer myself too be saved by a varlet? And when he hath saved me, what thank shall I yield him? shall I live with a ribald? no. Shall I not live with my Raunsomer? no nother. What will you have me to do then? I will tell you. Even of any such person I may take money too pay for y● ransom of my life. And I take it as a thing lent, but not as a benefit. I will pay him his money again; and if occasion serve that I may save him in danger, I will save him also: but as too join friendship with him, which matcheth like too like, that will I not do; neither will I account him as my saviour; but as an usurer, too whom I know I must restore that which I have received. 
〈◊〉 must not ●●eiue too ●●hinderāce the giver.  Some man is worthy too have a benefit received at his hand, but it will hurt him if he give it: & therefore shall I not take it. As for example, as he is ready too do me good, too his own hindrance, yea or also too his own peril, (as peradventure he is willing too defend me at the bar, but by his standing in my defence he shall procure himself the kings displeasure): now were I his enemy, if I should not do that which might be done with his most ease, that is too wit, if I should no stand too mine own peril without him, seeing he would hazard himself for my sake. Hecaton putteth this fond and trifling example of Arkesilaus, whom he reporteth too have refused money that was offered him by a man's son yet under years of discretion, lest the child might have run in the dspleasure of his niggardly father. What thing did he worthy of praise? That he received not stolen goods? and that he had rather not too receive than too be driven too restitution? Not too receive other men's goods, was a point of staidness. But if we want an example of a noble mind, let us look upon that worthy wight Graecinus Julius, whom Caius Caesar slew, for none other offence, but because he was a better man than it is expedient that any should be too a Tyrant. At such time as this Graecinus took money of his friends that made a contribution towards his charges of certain gaminge: one Fabius Persicus sent him a great sum of monnie, but he would in no wise receive it. And when his friends having respect too the gift and not too the giver, found fault with him for refusing it: shall I (quoth he) take a benefit at the hand of him, whom I would not vouchsafe too pledge in a cup of drink? Likewise when one Rebilus, a consuls peer, but yet of the same stamp that Fabius was, had sent him a greater sum, and was very importunate upon him too receive it: I pray you pardon me (qd he) for I have taken none of Persicus.   

¶ The xxii Chapter.  
WHither was this a receiving of gifts, 
After wha● manner bin●● fites are t● be receiu●  or a choosing of Senators? When we think it meet to receive, let us receive cheerfully with appearance of gladness, and let the same be manifest too the giver, that he may reap present fruit thereof. For it is a just cause of gladness, too see a man's friend glad; but it is a juster cause too have made him glad. Let us show that we accept the thing thankfully, by pouring out our affections; and let us witness it, not only in his hearing, but also everywhere. He that hath taken a good turn thankfully, hath paid the first payment of it.   

¶ The xxiii Chapter.  
Some will not receive a good turn but in secret, shunning too have any man as witness, or privy of it. You may be sure such men mean no good. Like as the bestower must bring his benefit so farfoorth too knowledge, as it may delight him on whom it is bestowed: so he that receives it must make others privy to it. Look what thou art ashamed too owe▪ that receive thou not. some give thanks by stealth, and in a corner, and in ones ear. This is not shamefastness, but a loathness too be acknown of it. That man is unthankful, which giveth thanks in hudther mudther. Some men would borrow monnie, and yet neither make the Brokers nor the public▪ Notaries privy too it, nor yet give bill of their hand. In like sort deal they, which endeavour too keep from all men's knowledge, the good turn that is bestowed upon them. They be loath too blaze it abroad, because they would be said to have compassed it by their own cunning rather than by any other man's help. They seldomme make any countenance too those that they are indebted too for life or preferment: and while they shun too be counted hangers upon other men's sleeves, they run into the reproach of unthankfulness, which is worse.   

¶ The xxiiii Chapter.  
OThersomme speak worst of them that deserve best. A man may more safely do some men a displeasure, them a good turn. For they seek too prove themselves nothing beholden too men, by hating them. But we ought too labour for nothing more, than that the remembrance of good turns, may always stick fast in our minds: which must be new burnished from time to time, because none can requite a good turn, but he that beareth it in mind, and the very bearing of it in mind is a requital. A man must receive neither squeimishly, nor underling like and bacely. For he that is negligent in the first taking, when all good turns like men best because of their newness: what will he do when the first pleasure of it is overpast?  
One takes a good turn scornfully, as though he would say, In good faith I have no need of it, but seeing thou art so greatly desirous, I am content thou shalt use my patience. Another takes it reckelesly, so as he leaves the bestower in doutte, whither he perceived it or no. The third scarce openeth his lips, and places the churl more than if he had held his peace. A man must speak out earnestly according to the greatness of the matter: and he must knit it up with such words as these: You have made me beholden too you more than you are awareof. (For there is noma but he is glad too have his good turn extend with the furthest.) you know not how much you have done for me: but I assure you, it is much more than you take it too be.  
He requyteth out of hand, which chargeth himself thus. I shall never be able too requite your freendlienesse. But surely I will never cease too report everywhere that I am not able too requite it.   

¶ The xxv Chapter.  
FVrnius did not in any thing more purchase himself the favour of the Emperor Augustus, and win him easy too grant him other things, than that when he had gotten his father's pardon, who had taken part with Antony against Augustus, he said: This one wrong do I receive at thy hand O Caesar, that thou haste dealt in such wise with me, as I must live and die unthankful. What so grease sign of a ●●thankfull mind can be, as by no means to satisfy a man's self, no nor yet too conceive any hope that ever he shallbe able too come near the requiting of a good turn? By this and such other kind of speeches let us so deal, as our good will may not lie hidden, but be disclosed and come too light. Yea, and though words cease: yet if we be minded as we ought too be, the conscience will bewray itself in our countenance. He that purposeth too be thankful, mindeth requiting as soon as he receiveth. Chrysippus saith he ought too be disposed, like one that hath put himself in a readiness too run for a wager, and standeth within the lists, waiting for his time to step forward at the sound of the Trumpet. And surely he had need of great swiftness, and great enforcing of himself, that should overtake him that is gone afore him.   

¶ The xxvi Chapter.  
NOw is it too be seen what thing maketh men unthankful most. 
What thing maketh men unthankful moste.  It is either the overweening and overliking of themselves, and of their own things, a fault ingreffed in man's Nature: or it is covetousness, or else it is envy. Let us begin at the first. There is no man but he is a favourable judge in his own case. hereupon it comes to pass, that he thinks he hath deserved all things, and taketh himself too be bound to noman, sopposing himself not too be esteemed according too his worthiness. He gave me this (saith he): but how late, and after how much travess? How many more things might I have obtained in the while, if I had fa●●ed upon such a man, or such a man, or if I had sought mine own profit? I looked not for this. I am made a rascal. Can he beteeme me no more than this? It had been more honesty too have quite overslipped me.   

¶ The xxvii Chapter.  
CNeus Len●ulus the soothsayer, the greatest example of riches that ever was seen, 
That is twenty hundred thousand pound ster●lyng.  before such time as his Franklinges m●de him poor, (for he saw * four thousand Sestertia of his own, I spoke properly in●● saying, for he did no more but see them) was as dull of wit, as weak of courage. For although he was exceeding covetous: yet did he utter his monnie faster than his words; so far was he too seek what too say. Whereas this man owed all his advancement too the Emperor Augustus, unto whom he had brought nothing but beggary, distressed under the title of nobility: being now become chief of the city, both in monnie and favour; he was wont oftentimes too make his moan too the Emperor, that he was drawn away from his study, and that all that ever the Emperor had bestowed upon him, was nothing in comparison of his loss, by giving up his study of Eloquence. And yet among other things, the Emperor Augustus had done this for him also, that he had delivered him from being mocked, and from his vain labour. Covetousness suffereth not any man too be thankful. For whatsoever is given, is never enough to him that gapeth for more. The more we have▪ the more we covet, and much more eager is the covetousness that is béezied in the raking together of great riches: like as the force of a flame is a thousand times fiercer, according as the fire is the greater that it blazeth out of. Also after the same sort, Ambition suffereth not any man too rest within the measure of that honour, which heretofore he would have been ashamed too have wished. Noman giveth thanks for a Tribuneship, but grudgeth that he is not advanced too a praetorship. Neither thinketh he the praetorship worth gramercy, if he come not too the Consulship. Neither will the Consulship suffice him, if he have it not more than once. Ambition stalketh still forward, and never perceiveth when he is well, because he never looketh from whence he came, but always whither he would. A more vehement and piercing malady than all these is envy: which vexeth us with making of comparisons. He bestoweth this upon me (sayeth envy) but he bestowed more upon him, and more speedily upon that man. Thus weigheth he no man's case but his own, and favoureth himself against all men.   

¶ The xxviii Chapter.  
HOw much plainer dealing, and how much more wisdomme were it, too advance a good turn received▪ and to consider that noman sets so much by ●nother, as every man sets by himselsef.  
I ought too have had more at his hand, but it was not for his ease to● forbear any more. There were many other too be rewarded at his han●● as well as I. This is a beginning; Let us take it in good worth, and toll him forward by accepting his good will thankfully.  
He hath done but a little at once: he will do it the oftener. He hath preferred that man before me, and me before many others. That man is not able too match me in virtue courtly behaviour, but yet hath he his peculiar grace. By grudging▪ I shall never make myself worthy of greater benefits: but I may make myself unworthy of those y● I have already. There was more given too those lewd unthrifter. What is that too me? how seldom doth fortune use discretion? We daily complain that evil men be lucky. Oftentimes the hail that overpassed the grounds of the worst folk, hath stricken the corn of the best. Every man must hold him to his Lot, as well in receiving of friendship as in other things. There is no benefit so perfect, which envy can not nip: nor no benefit so scant, which a good accepter may not enlarge. Thee shall never want causes of complaint, if a man look upon benefits on the worse side.   

¶ The xxix Chapter.  
SEE how unindifferentlye Gods gifts are esteemed, 
T●e unthankfulness of men towards God.  even of some that profess wisdomme. They find fault that we be not as big bodied as elephants, as swift of foot as hearts, as light as birds, as strong as bulls: that beasts have substancialler hides than we, that the fallow dear hath a fairer hear, the bear a thicker, the beaver a softer: that dogs excel us in smelling, eagles in seeing, ravens in long living, and divers beasts in easy and happy swimming. And whereas nature suffereth not certain things to join toogither in one, (as, that swiftness of body should be matched with equal strength: they call it an injury, that man is not compounded of diverse and disagreeable properties: and they blame the Gods of neglecting us, because they have not given us perfect health, invincible strength and courage, and knowledge what is too come. Yea and they scarce refrain themselves from rushing into so shameless impudency, as too hate nature for making us inferior too the gods, and not fellows with them and full as good as they. How much more meet were it for us too return back too the beholding of their so many and so great benefits, and too yield them thanks, that it hat pleased them too allot us the second room in this mo●t beautiful house, and too make us Lords of all earthly things? Is there any comparison between us and those beasts whereof we have the sovereignty? Whatsoever is denied us, 
How great●●● man is 〈◊〉 holden to● God for his benefits.  could not be given unto us. And therefore whosoever thou art that dost so underualew man's Lot, bethink thee how great things our soverein Parent hath given us: how much stronger creatures we bring in subjection, how much swifter creatures we overtake, and how there is no mortal thing exempted from our power. Consider how many virtues we have received, how many arts, and what a mind, which pierceth through all things even in the same instant that it setteth itself unto them, being more swift than the planets, whose courses it foreseeth many hundred years before they come too pass. Finally mark what plenty of fruits, what abundance of riches, what store of all things heaped one upon another be bestowed upon us. Well: Take the view of all things, and because thou canst find no one whole thing that thou hadst liefer be: pick out such several things as thou wouldst wish too be given thee out of them al. So when thou hast wellweyed the loving kindness of nature, thou shalt be forced too confess, that thou wart her Dealing. And so it is in deed. The Gods immortal have loved us and do love us most dearly: and (which is the greatest honour that could be given) they have placed us next unto themselves. Great things have we received, and greater we could not take.   

¶ The xxx Chapter.  
THese things) my friend Liberalis) have I thought requisite too be spoken, both because it behoved me too say somewhat of great benefits when we were talking of small benefits: and also because the boldness of his horrible vice floweth from thence into all other things. 
Vnthenkfulnesse too God breedeth unthankfulness towards men.  For unto whom will he become thankful, or what good turn will he esteem great or worth the requy●ing, which despiseth the highest benefits? Too whom will he think himself beholden for his life, which denieth himself too have received life of the gods, to whom he prayeth daily for it? Whosoeverthen teacheth too be thankful, dealeath with the case both of men and Gods; to whom, notwithstanding that they neither want aught nor covet aught, we may render thankfulness nevertheless. 
〈◊〉 requite 〈◊〉 good turn 〈◊〉 an easy ●atter.  There is no reason why any man should lay the blame of his thankless mind upon his own weakness or poverty, and say, what shall I do? How or when may I requite thanks too my superiors the Lords of all things? Too requite is an easy matter: yea, if thou be a niggard, even without cost: and if thou be slothful, without labour. Truly, if thou listest, thou mayst be even with any man, even in the same instant that he maketh thee beholden unto him. For he that hath received a benefit with a weldisposed mind, hath requited it.   

¶ The xxxi Chapter.  
IN my opinion, this Paradox of the stoics, That he which hath received a good turn with a weldispozed mind hath requited it, is neither strange nor incredible. For inasmuch as we measure all things by the mind; look how much a man is fully minded too do, so much hath he done. 
Wherewith a man may requite without cost or labour.  And forasmuch as godliness, faithfulness, uprightness, and finally all virtue is perfect in itself: although a man could not put forth his hand, yet may he be thankful even with his heart. As oft as a man compasseth his purpose, he reapeth the fruit of his own work. What then purposeth he that bestoweth a benefit? Too profit the party on whom he bestows it, and to delight himself. Now if he have accomplished that which he meant, so as his good turn is come too my hands, and hath made both of us glad: he hath obtained that which he sought. For his intent was not too have any thing in recompense: for than had it not been a benefit but a bargain. He hath sailed well that comes too the haven which he made his course unto. The dart that hitteth the mark it is thrown at, hath performed the part of a steady hand. He that doth a good turn, meeneth too have it accepted thankfully. If it be well taken, he hath his desire.  
But he hoped for some commodity by it. Then is it no benefit; the property whereof is too mind no return. As for the thing that I took, If I took it with like meaning as it was given, I have requited it. Otherwise the thing that of itself is best, were in worst case. Too the end I should be thankful, I am sent unto fortune. If I cannot requite for want of her favour, I will satisfy good will with good will. What then? Shall I not do what I can too requite, and seek opportunity of time, and matter, and endeavour too fill the bosom of him, at whose hands I have received any thing? Yes. But yet the world went ill with gooddooing, if a man might not be thankful even with empty hands.   

¶ The xxxii. Chapter.  
HE that hath received a good turn (sayest thou), although he have taken it with never so wellmeening a mind: yet hath he not done his duty too the full. For there is a piece yet still behind, namely too require: like as it Tennis it is somewhat too take the ball cunningly and ridily, and yet he is not called a good player, unless he send it back again as fast and featly as he took it. This example is unlike. Whyso? Because the commendation of this game, consisteth in the quick stirring and nimbleness of the body, and not in the mind. And therefore it is requisite that the whole should be laid forth at large, where the eye must be judge. Yet will I not for all that, deny him too be a good player, that taketh the ball as he ought too do, though he strike it not again, so the fault be not in himself. But (sayest thou) although there be no want of cunning in the player, inasmuchas he did part and was able too have done the rest that he did not: yet is the game itself main, which consisteth of taking and striking back the ball again. I will stand no longer about confuting in this case: let us grant that there is some want in the play and not in the player. So also in this matter which we treat of, there wanteth somewhat in respect of the the thing that was given, whereunto another part is dew; but there wanteth nothing in respect of the mind: he that hath found one like minded too himself, hath accomplished his own desire as much as lieth in him.   

The xxxiii Chapter.  
HE hath bestowed a good turn upon me, and I have accepted it even as he would have wished. Now hath he the thing that he sought, yea & the only thing that he sought: for I am thankful. Hereafter remaineth the use of me, and some commodity too redound too him by my thankfulness. This is not the remnant of an unperfect duty, but an income too a perfect one. Phidias makes an Image. The fruit of his workmanship is one, and the fruit of his work is another. The end of his workmanship is too have made the thing that he meant too make. The end of his work is too have done it too some profit. Phidias hath finished his work, though he have not sold it. He reapeth three fruits of his work. The one is of his own conceit; and this he receiveth assoon as his work is finished: the other is of his fame; and the third is of his profit which shall come unto him either by favour, or by sale, or by some other mean. Likewise of a benefit or good turn, let the first fruit be the fruit of a man's own conceit. This hath he reaped which hath brought his gift thither as he would. The second fruit is of fame: And the third fruit is of such things as may be performed by one towards another. Therefore when a good turn is accepted friendly, he that bestowed it hath already rece●ued recompense, but not reward. And therefore look what is without the benefit itself, it must be repaid by taking the same well.   

¶ The xxxiiii Chapter.  
WHat then? hath he requited, which hath done nothing? Nay he hath done very much: he hath rendered good with a good will, yea & like for like also, which is the property of friendship. again the payment of a benefit is one way, and the payment of a det is another way. You must not look that I should show my payment too the eye: the thing is done between mind and mind. Although the thing that I say, do fight at the first against thine opinion: yet shall it not seem hard unto thee, if thou wilt apply thyself unto me, and consider how there be more things than words. 
The want 〈◊〉 proper name causeth divers things too be termed all by one name.  There are a great number of things without names, which we utter not by their proper terms, but by terms applied from other things. For we say this word foot, of ourselves, of a Bed, of a Hanging, and of a verse. We call by the name of dog, both a Hound, a Fish, and a star. For we have not words I now too yield unto every seveall thing his several name: and therefore when we 〈◊〉, we borrow. Stoutness is a virtue that rightly despiseth perils: or else it is a knowledge how too repulse, eschew, and adventure upon perils. Yet notwithstanding we say that a Fencer, and a lewd servant whom rashness driveth headlong too the contempt of death, are stout men. sparingness is a knowledge how too eschew superfluous charges, or a skill how too use a man's household provision measurably: and yet we call him a very sparing man, which is of a niggardly and pinching mind, whereas notwithstanding there is infinite odds between measurableness and pinching. These are of divers natures, and yet for want of words, we be fain too call both the one and the other a Sparer. And also as well he that despiseth casual perils through reason, as he that rusheth out into perils without reason, are called 〈◊〉 men▪ So also, doth the 〈◊〉 of benefyeing & the thing that is given or done by that act, (as money, House, and apparel,) are called a benefit. The name of both of them is all one, but truly the force and power of them is far differing.   

¶ The xxxv Chapter.  
Give ear therefore. Now thou perceivest that I say nothing which thine opinion should mislike. That benefit or good turn which is finished in the doing of it, is requited if we take it thankfully. But asfor the other which is contained in the thing: we have not yet requited it, but we intent too requite it. We have satisfied good will with good will, and we own still thing for thing. Therefore although we report him to have requited, which taketh a good turn with a welmeening mind▪ yet do we will him too render 〈◊〉 like thing unto that which he hath taken. Some of the things▪ that we speak, do differ from common custom: and afterward another way they return too custom again. We deny that a wise man taketh any wrong: and yet the man that ●miteth him with his Fist shallbe condemned of ●●ongdooing. We deny that a fool hath any goods of his own: and yet if a man steal any thing from a fool, we will condemn him of felony. We say that all men be mad, and yet we cure not all men with Elleborus. We give voices in election of officers, and we commit authority too the same men whom we call mad. So also do we say that he which hath taken a good turn with a welmeening mind, hath requited it: but yet nevertheless we leave him still in debt, too make recompense even when he hath requited. Our so saying is an exhortation, and not a renouncing of the good turn. We need not be afraid, that the burden should be so intolerable, as too bear us down, and to daunt our hearts. Goods be given me, my good name is defended, my misery is taken from me, I enjoy life and liberty. And how shall I requite these things? when will the day come that I may show him my good will again? This is the day wherein he hath showed his.  
Take up the good turn, embrace it, and be glad: not for that thou takest, but for that thou requirest, and yet shalt thou abide in this debt still. Thou shalt not adventure upon so great a thing, as that mischance may make thee unthankful. I will cast no encumbrances in thy way: let not thy heart fail thee: shrink not for doubt of pains and long thraldom. I defer thee not, it may be done with things that thou hast already. Thou shalt never be thankful, if thou be not thankful out of hand. What must thou do then? must thou not put thyself in arms? Perchance thou must. Must thou not sail over the Seas? Perhaps yes, yea even with blustering winds at thy settingfoorth. Wilt thou requite a good turn? Take it in good worth, and thou haste requited it: not so as thou shouldest think thyself quite discharged, but so as thou mayest owe it with the more hearts ease.  
The end of the second book.    

❧ The third book of Lucius Annaeus Seneca, concerning benefits.  

¶ The first chapter.  
NOt too be thankful for a good turn (my friend Eubutius Liberalis,) is both a shame, 
●f vhthank●ulnesse, and ●ho be most ●nthankfull.  and so counted among all men. Therefore even the unthankful find fault with them that be unthankful, when nevertheless that cleaveth too them all, which all of them mislike. And we be so froward that we hate some men most deadly, not only after they have done us good, but also even for doing us good. I deny not but it happeneth in some men through the crabbedness of their Nature: But in more because continewaunce of time maketh them forgetful. For, the things that were fresh in mind with them, while they were newly done, do wear out of remembrance in process of tyme. Concerning which sort of men, I remember I have had hard hold with you, because you termed them not unthankful, but forgetful. As who would say, that that thing should excuse an unthankful person, which made him unthankful: or else that because some man happeneth too be forgetful, he should therefore not be counted unthankful, whereas noman happeneth too be forgetful, but the unthankful. There are many kinds of unthankful persons, as thieves and murderers: of whom the fault is all one, but there is great diversity in the circumstances. Unthankful is he that denieth the receiving of a good turn which he hath received. Unthankful is he that dissembleth it. Unthankful is he that requiteth it not. But most unthankful of all, is he that hath forgotten it. For although the rest discharge not themselves; yet are they debtors still, and there remaineth with them some print of the good turns, shut up within their evil conscience. And the time may come, that some cause or other may turn them too thankfulness, if either shame shall put them in mind, or some soodein pang of honest dealing, such as is wont too start up for a time even in evil Natures, if occasion serve them too do it with their ease. But never can he become thankful, that hath utterly forgotten the whole benefit. And whither thinkest thou him worse, in whom the thank of a good turn is lost, or him in whom the very remembrance of it is lost also? Faulty are those eyes that cannot away with the light: but stark blind are those that see not at all. Not too love one's parents is a point of wickedness: But not too know them is stark madness. Who is so thankless as he, which having such a thing as he ought too bestow in the foremost part of his mind, where it might always be ready at hand, hath laid it so far back, and cast it so far of, as he knoweth not of it at all? It should seem he thought not often of requiting, that could utterly forget it.   

¶ The second Chapter.  
TOO be short, 
The vice of forgetfulness a hindrance too thankfulness.  too the requiting of a good turn there needeth travel, and time, and ability, and favourable Fortune. But he that beareth it in mind, is thankful without cost. He that performeth not this, whereunto he needeth neither painstaking, nor wealth, nor good Fortune; hath no covert to shroud himself withal. For never meant he too be thankful, which did cast a good turn so far of that he bestowed it out of sight and remembrance. Like as the things that are occupied, and daily handled, are never in peril of rusting, whereas the things that come not in sight, but lie out of the way as superfluous, do gather soil by continuance of time: even so whatsoever is occupied & new burnished by often thinking upon, is never worn out of memory, which lofeth not any thing, save that which it hath not often looked back unto.   

¶ The third Chapter.  
BEsides this, 
●ouetouse●esse a hindrance too thankfulness.  there be other causes also, which drown men's greatest deserts in us. The first and theefest is, that being always busied about new desires, we never consider what we have, but what we would have: setting our whole mind, not upon that which is obtained, but upon that which is coveted. For whatsoever we have in possession, is nothing worth. Now than it followeth, that assoon as the desire of new things hath made a man set light by that which he hath received already, the bestower of them must also grow out of estimation. We love some man and fa●ne upon him, and protest him too be the founder of our welfare, so long as the things that we had at his hands do like us. Anon after there steppeth into our conceit a greater liking of other things, and our mind runs upon them, (as the manner of men is) after great things coveting still greater: straight way is forgotten whatsoever we termed heretofore by the name of a benefit. 
Envy another hindrance unto thankfulness.  And we look not upon those things that have preserved us before others: but only upon those things wherein other men have had the Fortune too outgo us. But it is not possible for any man, both too repine and too be thankful. For, to repine is the property of him that findeth fault, and is discontented: but too give thanks, is the property of him that is well pleased. Moreover, although none of us know but the time that is already passed: yet do few or none cast back their mind too things past. By mean hereof it faults out, that schoolmasters and their weldooynge go too the ground together, because we leave our whole childhod behind us. By means hereof it comes to pass, that the things which are bestowed upon us in our youth are lost, because our youth never comes too hand again. Noman accounteth that which hath been, as a thing past, but as a thing lost. And therefore flyghfull will the remembrance be of things that are too come.   

¶ The four Chapter.  
IN this place I must hold with Epicuras, who continevally complaineth of our unthankfulness for things past, because that what good turns so ever we receive, we call none too remembrance, nor account them among pleasures: whereas notwithstanding, there is no pleasure more certain, than that which cannot be taken away any more. Present good things are not yet whole and full: some mischance may cut them of. Good things too come do hang in uncertainty. But that which is passed is laid up in safety. How then can that man be thankful towards such as do him good, who bestoweth all his life in gazing upon things present, and in gaping after things too come. It is myndfulnesse that maketh a man thankful. He that hangeth most upon hope, groundeth least upon myndfulnesse.   

¶ The .v. Chapter.  
MY Liberalis, like as some things once perceived do stick fast in memory; and in some things, the once learning of them is not enough too make a man cunning in them: (for the knowledge of them decayeth, if it be not continued by exercise, I mean geometry and Astonomie, and such other things as are slippery by occasion of their subtlety:) even so the greatness of some benefits suffereth them not too be forgotten; and some being less (though they be very many in number, and bestowed at sundry times) do slip quite away, because (as I said) we do not record them from time too time, nor willingly bethink us how much we are in each man's debt. hearken what speeches suitors cast forth. Every man says he will bear it in mind while he liveth: every man protesteth and voweth himself too be at commandment, and whatsoever other lowly term he can devise too endanger himself withal. But within a while after, the same persons eschew their former words, as too base and scarce gentlemanlike: and finally they come too that point which (as I suppose) every of the lewdest and unthankfullest can come unto, that is to say, too forget it. For even as unthankful is he that forgetteth, as he is thankful that beareth in mind.   

¶ The vi Chapter.  
BUT here riseth a question, whither this hateful vice ought too be unpunished, or whither the law that is put in ure in schools, ought also too be executed in Comonweales; so as a man might have his Action against an unthankful person, which seemeth indifferent justice for all men. Why not? Seeing that realms upbraid realms with the things they have done for them, and pick quarrels too the successors, for the things that were bestowed upon their predecessors? Our ancestors being (as a man may perceive) men of noble courage, demanded only monnie of their enemies. As for benefits, they bestowed them frankly, and bore the loss of them as frankly. There was never yet action granted against an unthankful person in any Nation, saving in the realm of Macedon. And this is a great reason why none should have been granted; because that whereas we have given consent too the punishment of all other missedéedes, so as both for manslaughter, witchcraft, unnatural murder, and breach of Religion, there are in sundry places sundry punishments, and in all places some: This fault which is ryfeste of all, is everywhere misliked, but nowhere punished. Yet do we not acquit it: But forasmuch as the trial of so uncertain a matter would be very hard: we have but condemned it too be hated, leaving it among those things, which we put over too the vengeance of the gods.   

¶ The vii Chapter.  
I find many reasons, why this fault ought not too be made a matter in law. first of all, the best part of the benefit or good turn perisheth, if a man should have his Action for it, as he useth too have for lending of monnie, or for bargains of hiring and letting out. For the greatest grace of a good turn, is that we have done it, even though we should lose it, so as we have put the matter wholly too the courtesy of the receivers. But if I arrest him: If I call him before a judge: It beginneth too be a debt, and not a benefit. Again whereas it is a most commendable thing too requite: It ceaseth too be commendable, if it come too be of necessity. For noman will commend a thankful person, more than him that hath restored a thing that was delivered him too keep, or discharged his debt without being sewed. So shall we mar two things at once, that is too wit, a thankful man, and a beneficial man; than which, there are not any goodlier things in man's life. For what great point of excellency is there, either in the one if he bestow not his good turn freely, but lend it: or in the other if he requite, not because he is willing, but because he needs must? It deserveth no praise too be thankful, except a man may safely be unthankful. Moreover this inconvenience would ensue: that all courts would be too little for this law. Who is he that might not sew; who is he that might not be sued? All men extol their own doings, all men enlarge the things that they have bestowed upon others, be they never so small. furthermore, whatsoever things do fall within the compass of examination, may be determined without giving the judge infinite liberty. And therefore the state of a good case, seemeth better if it be put too a judge, than if it be put too an umper; because the judge is bound too an order, and hath his certain bounds set him, which he may not pass: But the umpires conscience being free, and tied too no bounds, may both add and take away, and direct his sentence, not according as law and justice counsel him, but according as humanity and pity shall move him. An Action of unkindness would not bind the judge. but set him at liberty too rule things as he listed. For it is not certain what a benefit should be. again▪ how great soever it be, it were much too the matter, how favourably the judge would construe it. No law defineth what an unthankful person is. Oftentimes he that hath rendered as much as he received, is unthankful: and he that hath not rendered, is thankful. Also there be some matters, which even an unskilful judge may dismiss the Court of: as in caces where the parties must confess a deed, or no deed. Where the opening of the evidence dispatcheth all doubts: where very reason is able to determine the right. But when men's minds must be conjectured of; when a thing cometh in question, which only wisdom is able too discern: in such caces a man cannot take him for a judge, that is called to office for his riches, or because he is a gentleman borne.   

¶ The viii Chapter.  
THis thing therefore seemed not very unmeet too have been made a matter in law, 
The greatest benefits admit not requital with like for like.  but that noman could be found too be a competent judge in the case. Which thing thou will not think strange, if thou consider thoroughly how hardly he should be graveled, which should enter into the overruling of such caces. Some man giveth a great piece of money: but he is a rich man, and such a one as can not feel the loss of it. Another giveth likewise, but with danger of foregoing his whole inheritance. The some is all one, but the benefit is not all one. Yea let us yet add further: that the ●ne payeth money for a welwi●●er of his, but he hath it at home lying by him: and that the other giveth as much, but he is fain too take up it upon Interest, or too borrow it with much entreatance, and too endanger himself greatly to him that lent it. Thinkest thou there was no odds betwixt him that bestowed his good turn with ease, and this other that borrowed too give? Some things become great for their season, and not for their sum.  
The giving of a piece of ground, whose fruitfulness may ease the dearth of corn, is a benefit. And one Loaf of Bread given in time of Fam●n, is a benfite also.  
Too give a man whole Countries with many great rivers in them able too bear ships, is a benefit. And too ●hewe a Waterspring too such as are thirsty and scarce able to fetch their breath for dryness, is a benefit also.  
Who shall compare these things together? who shall weigh them thoroughly? Hard is the determination of that case, which requireth the force of a thing, and not the thing itself. The things may be all one; and yet the manner of bestowing them shall alter the estimation of them. A man hath done me a good turn; but he did it unwillingly; he was sorry when he had done it: he looked scornefullyer upon me than he was wont on't too do: he did it with such linger, as he had pleased me much more too have said me flat nay out of hand. How shall a judge make an estimate of these things, when the speech, and the doubting, and the countenance if a man may mar the grace of his good turn.   

¶ The ix Chapter.  
Again, some things are termed benefits, because they be overmuch desired: and othersome being not of that common sort, but much greater, do bear a less show. Ye call it a benefit too have made a man free of the head city of our puissant commonweal; and too have advanced him too honour, or to have saved him upon an indictment of Life and Death. And what call you it too have given a man good counsel? too have wrested the Sword out of a man's hand, that was ready too have foredone himself? too have recomforted a forlorn person with effectual persuasions? and too have brought him back again too the folowship of life, from his wilful seeking of that which he longed for? What think you it too be, to have sit by a sick man; and whereas his health consisted intending him, too have given him his meals when his stomach would serve him best, and too have refreshed his feeble pulfes with wine, and too have helped him too a physician when he was like too die? Who shall value these things? who shall command these benefits too be recompensed with the like?  
Some man perchance hath given thee a house: and I have forewarned thee that thine own is falling down upon thy head. He hath given thee lands and Goods: and I have given thee a board too float upon in shipwreck. Another hath fought for thee and was wounded: and I have saved thy life by holding my peace. Seeing that a good turn is done one way, and recompensed another: it is a hard matter too make them matches.   

¶ The ten Chapter.  
FUrthermore, there is no day set for the requyting of a good turn, as there is for repayment of money that is lent. Therefore he that hath not requited, may requite. For I would have thee too tell me within what time a man may be found too be unthankful. The greatest benefits have no trial at all. Oftentimes they lie hidden between the consciences of the two parties, unspoken of. Shall we bring the world too that point, that we may not do a good turn without witness? What punishment then shall we appoint for the unthankful? Shall we punish all alike, whereas the benefits be unlike? or shall we appoint diversity of punishments, greater or lesser, according too the measure of each man's benefit? Peradventure you will have the penalty too be but a money matter. Why? Some benefits concern life, yea and are greater than life. What penalty shallbe appointed for those? Less than the benefit? That were not indifferent. Equal and deadly? What can be more unkindly, than that the end of benefits should be bloody?   

¶ The xi Chapter.  
Certain prerogatives (say you) are given too parents. Look how consideration is had of these extraordinarily: so must consideration be had of other men's benefits likewise. We have privileged the state of fathers and mothers, because it was expedient too have Children bred and brought up. They were too be encouraged too this travel, because they adventure upon uncertain chance. It cannot be said to them as may be said to others that bestow benefits: If thou be deceived, take one that is meet for thee and help him. In bringing up of Children, it is not at the choice of the parents too have them such as they list: all that they can do, is but too wish well and hope well. Therefore too the intent they might the more willingly adventure this chance, it was reason that some prerogative should be given them. Again the case standeth otherwise with parents: for they both do and will still bestow benefits upon their Children, although they have done never so much for them already: and it is not too be feared that they will belie themselves in giving. certes in all other men, it may stand upon trial, not only whither they have received, but also whither they have given or no. But asfor the deserts of parents, they be always to be taken for matter confessed. And because it is beehooffull for Youth to be ruled: we have set as it were household magistrates over them too keep them in awe. Besides this, the benefyting of all parents is after one sort, and therefore it might be valued all after one rate. But the benefytinge that are done by others, are diverse and unlike, and there is infinite odds of difference betwixt them: by reason whereof they could not fall within the compass of any law, forasmuch as it were more reason that all should be let alone, than that all should be made equal.   

¶ The xii Chapter.  
Some things are costly too the givers▪ and some are much worth too the receivers, and yet stand the givers in nothing. Some things are given too friends, and some too folks of no acquaintance. It is more (though the thing that is given be all one) if thou give it too such a one, as thou beginnest thy first acquaintance with him by thy good turn. This man giveth relief, that man preferment, and another man comfort. Ye shall find some man that thinks not any thing more pleasant, or any thing greater; than too have one that may be a stay to him in his misery. again ye shall find some man more careful for his honesty, than for his safety. And there be other some that would think themselves more beholden to him by whose means they might live at their ease, than too him by whose means they might live in some counntenaunce of estimation. Therefore these things would fall out too be greater or lesser, according as the judges mind were bend too the one, or too the other. Furthermore, I am at mine own choice for my creditor: but now and then I take a good turn of him that I would not, and sometime am bound ere I wot of it. What wilt thou do? Wilt thou call him unthankful, that had thy good turn cast upon him, and witted it not; who if he had known it, would not have received it? And wilt thou not call him unthankful, who after a sort accepted it, and yet requited it not?   

¶ The xiii Chapter.  
A Man hath done me a good turn: and afterward he doth me a shrewd turn. Now whither doth that one good turn of his, bind me too bear all displeasures at his hand: or whither is it all one as if I had requited him, because he himself hath cut of his own good turn, by doing me wrong afterward? again how wilt thou discern, whither that be more wherein I was pleasured, or that wherein I was harmed? Time would fail me, if I should take upon me too reckon up all inconveniences. Some man will say, that we make men slower too do good, when we challenge not the things that are given, but suffer the deniers too scape unpunished. But you must bethink you of this also on the contrary part: that men willbe much lothther to receive benefits, if they shall stand in peril of answering to the case. Also, by this means we ourselves shall become the loather too do men good: for no man will gladly pleasure men against their wills. But whosoever is provoked too pleasure men of his own goodness, and for the very goodliness of the thing itself: he will be willing too do good, even unto such as shall think themselves no more beholden to him, than they list. For the commendation of that benefit or good turn is maimed, which carrieth a proviso with it.   

¶ The xiiii Chapter.  
SO shall there be fewer good turns.  
Yea, but they shallbe truer. And what harm is it too have the rashness of benefiting restrained? For even this sought they which made no law for it: namely, that we should be the circumspecter what we bestowed, and the warer in choosing on whom we bestowed. Consider thoroughly too whom thou givest. So shall there be no sewing, so shall there be no chalendging. Thou art deceived if thou think that any judge can help thee. no law is able too set thee clear again. Only have thou an eye too the faithfulness of the receiver. So shall benefits keep their estimacon, and continue honourable. Thou staynest them, if thou make them a matter of law. In debts it is a most upright speech and agreeable too the law of all realms, too say, Pay that thou owest. But it is the foulest word than can be in benefiting, too say, Pay. For what shall he pay? Admit he own life, dignity, safety, welfare, or health? All things that are of the chiefest sort, are unpayable. Let him (say you) pay somewhat of like value. This is it that I spoke of: namely that the estimation of so noble a thing should perish, if we make a merchandyze of benefits. The mind is not too be provoked unto covetowsenesse, repining, and discord: it runneth into these things of the own accord. Let us withstand them as much as we can, and let us cut of occasions of complaint.   

¶ The xu Chapter.  
I Would we could persuade men too take no money again that they have lent upon credit, save only of such as were willing too repay it. Whould God that no veretie might be taken of the purchaser by the seller, nor bargains and covenants be made under hand & seal: but rather, that the performance of them were referred too the faithfulness and upright meaning of men's consciences. But men have preferred profit before honesty, and they had liefer enforce men too be faithful, than too find them faithful. One man by means of Brokers taketh up monnie of divers men, upon assurance in writing, and witnesses are called on both parts. Another is not contented with sufficient sureties, unless he hath also a pa●ne in his hand. O shameful bewraying of the deceitfulness of man, and of the lewdness that is commonly used. Our seals are more set by than our souls. For what purpose are worshipful men called to record? Why set they too their hands? verily lest the party should deny the receipt of that, which he hath received. Would not a man take such too be uncorrupt persons, and maintainers of the truth? And yet even they also by and by after cannot be trusted for any monnie, but upon like dealing. Had it not been more honesty, too let some men go with the breaking of their credit, than that all men should be mistrusted of unfaithfulness? Covetousness wanteth only but this one point, namely that we should do noman good without suretyship. It is the property of a Gentlemanlike and Noble heart, too help and profit others. He that doth men good freely, resembleth the gods: but he that looks for recompense, resembleth the Usurers. Why then abase we ourselves too those vilest sort of rakehells, by resembling them.   

¶ The xvi Chapter.  
BUt if no Action may lie against a thankless person, there will (sayest thou) be the more thankless persons. Nay rather there willbe the feawer: for men will take the better heed too the bestowing of their benefits. Again it is not good too have it known too the world, what a number of unthankful persons there be. For the multitude of offenders taketh away the shame of a deed; and a common crime ceaseth too be counted a reproach. Is there almost any woman now adays ashamed of divorcement, since the time that certain of the noble Ladies and Gentlewomen have made account of their years, not by the number of consuls, but by the number of their husbands, and have gone from their husbands too be married, and married too be divorced? So long as divorcement was rare, so long was it feared. But after that few marriages were continued without divorce: the often hearing of it taught them too use it. Is any Woman now a days ashamed of whoredomme, since the world is come to that point, that few take a Husband but too cloak their whoredom? Chastity is a token of deformity. Where shall a man find so very a wretch or so very a Puzzle, that one pair of Adulterers may suffice her? Nay, ●hee doteth and is to much of the old stamp, which knows not that the keeping of one Leman is counted good wedlock. Like as too be ashamed at these faults is vanished away at these days, since the thing began too get larger scope: so shalt thou make the thankless sort both more and more bold, if they may once begin too muster themselves.   

¶ The xvii Chapter.  
WHat then? Shall the thankless person scape unpunished?  
What becomes of the malicious? what becomes of the covetous? what becomes of him that hath no stay of himself? What becomes of the cruel man? Thinkest thou that the things which are hated, are unpunished? Or thinkest thou that there can be a sorer punishment, than too be hated of all men? It is a punishment, that he dares not take a good turn at any man's hand, that he dares not bestow a good turn upon any man, that he is a gazingstocke too all men, or at leastwise believes himself too be so, and that he hath foregone the understanding of the thing that was both singularly good and singularly sweet. Callest thou him unhappy that wanteth his eyesight, or whose ears be stopped by some disease: & wilt thou not call him a wretch, that hath lost the feeling of benefits? He is afraid of the Gods the witness bearers against all unthankful persons. The disappointing of him of benefiting or being benefited, fretteth and gnaweth his conscience: and finally it is punishment great enough, that (as I said afore) he hath foregone the fruition of so sweet a thing. But he whom it delighteth too have received a good turn, enjoyeth a measurable and continual pleasure, and it doth him good too behold, not the thing, but the mind of him at whose hand he had it. A good turn delighteth a thankful person ever, and an unthankful person but once. Besides this, let either of their lives be compared with others. The one is sad and sorrowful, and such as a denier and deceiver is wont too be, who hath no dew regard of Father and mother; or of them that brought him up, or of his Teachers. The other is merry, cheerful, longing for occasion too requite, and taking great pleasure of the same desire; not seeking in what wise, too whom, or in what thing, but how he may answer most fully and bounteously: not only too his parents and friends, but also too folk of the meanest sort. For though it be a Bondman that hath done him the good turn: he regardeth not of whom, but what he hath received.   

¶ The xvii Chapter.  
BUT some men (among whom Hecaton is one) demanded whither a Bondman can benefit his master or no. For there be that make this distinction: That some things are benefits, some duties, and some services: and that a benefit is that which is done by a freeman: (A Freeman is such a one as might have left the thing undone without blame.) That duty is of children, of wife, & of those persons whom kindred or alliance stirreth up, and willeth too help us: And that service is of the slave or Bondman, whom his degree hath put in such state, as he cannot chalege his superior for any thing that he doth for him.  
Notwithstanding all this, he that denieth that Bondmen may sometime too their Masters a good turn, is ignorant of the law of Nature. For it skills not of what calling the man be that doth the good tnrne, but of what mind he is. Virtue is forstalled from noman: She is set open for all men: She admitteth all men: She allureth all men: Gentlemen, Franklinges, Bondmen, Kings, and Banishedmen: She fancyeth neither house nor substance, but is contented with the bare man. For what safeguard should there be against casualties, or what could the noble heart assure itself of; if Fortune could alter virtue by substance? If the Bondman cannot do his master a good turn: neither can the subject do it for his Prince, nor the soldier for his Capitein. For what matter makes it, in what state of subjection a man be, if he be in any? For if necessity and fear of extremity do bar a Bond man from attaining the name of desert: the same thing will also bar him that is under a King, or a Capiteine, because they have like authority over him, though by unlike title. But men do good turns too their Princes, and men do good turns too their capiteys: Ergo they may also do good turns too their Masters. A Bondman may be just, he may be valeant, he may be of a noble courage: Ergo he may also benefit, or do a man a good turn, for even that also is a point of virtue. Yea, and it is so possible for Bondmen too benefit their Masters, that oftentimes they have bound their masters too them by their good turns. There is doutt but a Bondman may benefit any other man: and why then should he not be able too benefit his master also?   

¶ The xix Chapter.  
BEcause (sayest thou) he cannot become his masters creditor. though he should lend his master monnie. Otherwise he should daily make his master beholden unto him. For he lackyeth after him when he iourneyeth, he tendeth him in his sickness, he tooyleth himself out of his skin too do him ease: And yet all these things (which should be called good turns, if another body did them) are but services as long as a Bondman doth them. For that is a good turn, which is done by a man that was at his own free choice, whither he would do it or no. But a Bondman hath not liberty too say nay. And therefore he doth not benefit, but obey: neither can he boast of his doing, which too refuse he had no power.  
Now will I cast thee; & in thine own turn, I will bring a Bondman so far●e forth, as too many things he shallbe free. But tell me by the way: If I show thee a Bondman fight for his masters safeguard, without respect of himself, and stricken through with many wounds, and yet still spending the rest of his blood, even from the very heart, and by his own death, making respite that his master may have leisure too scape: wilt thou say he did not his master a good turn, because he is his Bondman? If I show thee one that by no promises of a tyrant could be corrupted, by no threats be feared, by no torments be forced too bewray his masters secrets, but (as much as he could) removed all suspicions that were surmised, and spent his life too keep his faithfulness: wilt thou deny him too have done his master a good turn, because he was his Bondman? Se● rather if it be not so much the greater good turn, as the example of virtue is rarer in Bondmen: and consequently so much the more worth thanks, for that whereas superiority is commonly hated, and all ●onstreint grievous: yet the love of some one towards his Master, hath surmounted the common hatred of bondage. So then it is not therefore no good turn because it proceeded from a Bondman: but it is so much the greater good turn, for that not even bondage could fray him from doing of it.   

¶ The twenty Chapter.  
IF any body think that bondage entereth into the whole man: he is deceived. The better part of him is privileged; men's bodies are subject and tied too their Masters. But the mind is at his own liberty; which of itself is so free and unbound, as it cannot be held, no not even within this prison wherein it is enclosed, but useth his force, and worketh great things, and passeth beyond all ●oundes in company with the heavenly sort. It is the body therefore, which fortune hath given too the master. This he buyeth, this he selleth. Asfor that inward part, it cannot be brought in bondage. Whatsoever isseweth from that, is free. For neither may we masters in all things command: neither may our bondmen in all things obey. They shall obey no commandment against the common weal: they shall put their hands too no wickedness.   

¶ The xxi Chapter.  
THere be some things which laws neither ●id nor forbid a man too do. In these hath a bondman matter too work a good turn upon. As long as no more is done than is wont too be exacted of bondmen● it is service. But when a bondman doth more than he is bound too do, it is a benefit. When it passeth into the affection of a ●reend, it ceaseth too be called a service. There be some things which the master is bound too bestow upon his Bondman: as food and raiment. Noman will term this a benefit. But if he have dealt favourably with him, and have brought him up like a gentleman, and trained him in the sciences that are taught unto gentlemen; it is a benefit. The same thing is done on the contrary part, in the person of ●he Bondman. Whatsoever it is that exéedeth the rate of a bondmannes' duty, which is not done of awe, but of good will: it is a benefit, if it be so great as it may bear that name, if any other man do it.   

¶ The xxii Chapter.  
A Bondman (as it liketh Chrysippus) is a con●●ne hireling. Now like as the hireling befréendeth a man, whom ●e doth more than ●ee was hired too do: so when the Bondman, of good will towards his Master, surmounteth the measure of his degree, and attempteth some higher matter, which might beseem even one of noble birth, and overgoeth his masters hope: It is a friendship found at home within his house. Seemeth it indifferent unto thee, that with whom we are offended, if they do less than their duty; we should not be beholden to them, if they do more than duty and ordinary? Wilt thou know when it is no benefit? It is then none, when it may be said, he shall neither will nor choose but do it. But when he doth that which he needed not, except he had listed: it is praiseworthy that he listed. A good turn and a shrewd turn are contraries. If he may take wrong at his masters hand, he may also do his master a good turn. But concerning the wrongs done too Bondmen by their Masters, there is one set in office too hear their caces, who hath authority too restrain both their cruelty, and their lewdness, and their nigardship in giving their Bondmen needful things too live by. What then? Doth a master receive a good turn of his Bondman? Nay, rather one man receiveth a good turn of another. Too be short, he hath done what was in his power too do: He hath benefited his Master. Not too receive it at thy bondmannes' hand, that is in thy power. But who is so great, whom Fortune compelleth not too have need even of the basest? I wlil streytwaies rehearse many examples of befreending, both unlike, and some also contrary one to another. some have saved their masters life, some have been their masters death. Another hath saved his master from perishing; and (if that be but a small matter) he hath saved him by perishing himself. One hath furthered his masters death, & another hath saved his master by beguiling him.   

¶ The xxiii Chapter.  
Claudius' Qudrigarius in his xviij. Book of Chronicles, reporteth that when the city Grument was besieged, and stood in utter peril to be lost, two Bondmen fled too the enemy, and took wages too serve him. Afterward when the town was taken, and the 〈◊〉 oue●ranne all places: the Bondmen ran afore by privy ways, to the house where they had served, and drove out their mistress before them. And being demanded what she was; they said she was their Mistress, and the cruelest woman that ever lived, and that they carried her out to put her too death. But assoon as they had her without the walls, they hide her close till the ●ge of the enemy was allayed. And afterward when the Roman soldiers were satisfied and come again to their own disposition, (which was soon done): the Bondmen also returned too their own side again, and set their mistress at her liberty. She immediately made them both free, and disdained not too have taken life at the hands of those, over whom she herself had had power of life and death. Yea, so much the more for that, had she cause too think herself happy. For had she been saved otherwise, it had been no strange matter, nor any thing else than a point of common and ordinary gentleness. But being saved after this manner, she became a famous bywoorde, and an example of two cities. In so great hurlyburly at the taking of the city, when everyman shifted for himself, all creatures forsook her save the runagates. But they (too show with what mind they had revolted afore) fled again from the conquerors too a captive, pretending the countenance of murderers, which was the greatest point in that benefit. So much thought they it better too seem murderers of their mistress than that she should have been murdered in deed. It is not, believe me, it is not the point of a stavishe courage, to compass a noble fact with the slander of wickedness. As Antonius the Mayer of the Marses, was led to the lieutenant general of the Romans, a Bondman of his 〈◊〉 out the soldiers sword that led him, and first slew his Master. And having done so, it is time for me (sayeth he) to provide for myself. I have already given my master his freedom: and with that word he struck himself through with one blow. Show me any that hath saved his master more stoutly?   

¶ The xxiiii Chapter.  
CEsar besieged Corfinium and Domitius being shut up within the town, commanded his physician (who was a Bondman of his) too poison him. When he saw him make courtesy at the matter; why stickest thou (qd he) as though the matter lay wholly in thy power? I that desire death am armed. Then his Bondman agreed and gave him a hurtless medicine too drink, wherewith he cast him into a dead sleep, and going out of hand too his son, said: Sir, cammaund me too be kept but so long till you perceive by the sequel, whither I have poisoned your father or no. Domitius escaped and had his life pardoned by Caesar: but yet his bondman had sa●ed him first.   

¶ The xxv Chapter.  
IN the time of the civil wars, a Bondman hide his master that was proclaimed Taitour. And when he had put his masters rings on his Fingers, and arrayed himself in his apparel, he went out too the Executioners, and telling them that he craved no favour, bade them execute their Commission, and therewithal held out his neck for them too cut of. How great manhood was it for him too yield himself too death for his Master, in a time when faithfulness was geson: and too be loath that his master should die in the common cruelty: yea and too be found so trusty when treachery was universal, as too crave death in recompense of his faithfulness, even when Treason was most highly rewarded?   

¶ The xxvi Chapter.  
I Will not let pass the Examples of mine own tyme. Under Tiberius Caesar, the outrage of appeaching men was very rife, and in manner common: which thing gave a sorer wound too the settled state of this city, than all the civil wars had done. Advantage was taken of dronkenmens' talk, and of things spoken simply in mirth, nothing was in safety. Every occasion of picking thanks was liked of. And men mused not what should become of them that were accused: for they were all served with one sauce. One Paul a man of honour being at a certain feast, had on his finger a ring with a rich stone sticking out, whereon was engraven the image of the Emperor Tiberius. I should play the fool too much, if I should make niceness too tell you how he took a Chamberpotte. Which thing over Maro a common known promoter of that time, took good heed of. But a bondman of this drunkenman for whom the bait was laid, pulled of his master's ring And when Maro bade the gwestes bear witness, that he had put the emperors image too his privities, and thereupon would have framed a bill for them too have subscribed: the bondman showed him the ring upon his own finger. If a man may call this man a slave, he may also call the other an honest gwest.   

¶ The xxvii Chapter.  
IN the time of the Emperor Augustus, before men's words were yet treason, though they bred them trouble: one Ruffus a senators peer (as he sat at Supper) wished that the Emperor might not come home again alive from a progress which he then intended: adding furthermore, that all bulls and calves wished the same. There were that took good heed of those words. Assoon as next morning came a bondman of his that had waited upon him at Supper over night, told him what words he had cast forth in his drunkenness as he was at Supper, and counseled him too high him too the Emperor before hand, and too be his own accuser. His master following his advice, met the Emperor at his first coming abroad. And when he had sworn unto him that he was not well in his wits over night: he prayed God that his wish might light upon himself and his sons, beseeching the Emperor that he would pardon him and receive him into his favour again, When the Emperor had granted his sewt: noman (said Ruffus) will believe you have taken me into your favour again; unless you give me some thing. Therewithal he asked no trifling some of money, and obtained it. And I for my part (said the Emperor) will endeavour that I may never be displeased with thee. Honourably did the Emperor deal with him, both in pardoning him, and also in matching liberality with his gentleness. Whosoever shall here of this example, must needs praise the Emperor: but yet he must praise the Bondman first. Do ye not look I should tell ye that he was made free for doing this deed? He was so: but not for nought: for the Emperor paid for his manumission.   

¶ The xxviii Chapter.  
AFter so many examples, there is no doubt but a master may receive a friendly turn at his bondmannes' hand. Why should the person rather imbace the thing, than the thing ennoble the person? All men have one beginning, and all spring out of one root▪ Noman is more Gentleman than other saving he that hath a better disposed nature, and more apt too good arts. They that setfoorth their pedigrees & their ancestors on a long row interlyned with many branches of Collateralll descents on the fore●●unt of their houses, are rather notorious than noble. There is but one parent of all men, even the world. Wither it be by famous or base descent, every man conveys his 〈◊〉 pedigree from him. There is no cause why these that keep 〈…〉 their ancestors should beguile thee. wheresoever the 〈◊〉 hath made any man renowned, by-and-by they feign him too be a God. D●spize no man though his pedigree be worn out of remembrance, and smally furthered by unfriendly fortune. Wither your ancestors were freemen, or bondmen, or Alean●es: be of good courage hardily, and whatsoever baseness lieth in your way, leap over it. Great nobleness abideth for you aloft. Why should pride puff us up into so great fondness, that we should disdain too take a good turn at our Bondmennes hands; and look so much at their degree, that we should forget their deserts? Callest thou any man slave, being thyself the bondslave of lechery and gluttony, and the common kickhor●e, not of one Strumpet but of many? Callest thou any man ●●aue? Wither a god's name do these Colecariers lance thee, carrying this thy Couch up & down? Whither do these Clokemen like a sort of brave Soldadoes, whither (I say) do they convey thee? Too the door of some doorekéeper, or else too the Garden of some rascal that hath not so much as an ordinary office. And yet deniest thou thyself too be beholden too thine own servant, which thinkest it too be a great friendship too get a kiss of an other man's servant? How happeneth it that thou art so at odds with thyself? At one instant thou both despisest and honour'st slaves. Within doors thou art Lordly and full of commandments: and without doors Loutlyke and as much scorned as scornful. For none are sooner out of countenance, than they that take most stoutly upon them in all naughtiness. Neither are any folk buzyer too tread others under foot, than such as have learned too ride upon others, by putting up reproach at other men's hands themselves.   

¶ The xxix Chapter.  
THese things were too be spoken, to pull down the pride of men that hang upon fortune, and too recover unto bondmen the right of benefiting, in likewise as it is too be yielded unto children. For it is a question, whether children can by any means be more beneficial too their parents, than their parents have been unto them? This is a plain case, that many sons have become greater, and of more ability than their fathers, and in that respect have been better than their fathers: which thing being admitted, it may also fall out that they have done more for them, considering that both their ability was greater, and their will better. verily (will some man say) whatsoever it be that the son doth for his father, it is less than his father hath done for him, because he had not been in case too have doo● it, if it had not been for his father. So can no benefiting surmount him that is the ground of the surmounting of itself.  
First it is too be considered, that some things take their beginning of other, and yet are greater than their beginnings. Neither is any thing therefore less than that from whence it hath his beginning, for that it could not have grown too that greatness, except it had had a beginning. There is almost nothing but it far exceedeth his first original. Seeds are the causes of all things, and yet are they the least part of the things that grow of them. Look upon Rhyne, look upon Euphrates: too be short, look upon all noble rivers: and what are they, if you measure them by their heads from whence they spring? Whatsoever they be fearedfor, whatsoever they be renowned for, they have purchased it in their far going. Take away roots, and there shallbe no woods; neither shall the great mountains be clad with Trees. Look upon the growing timbertrees. If ye regard the great height and hugeness of their Bodies, or the great thiknesse and broad spreddingout of their boughs: how small a thing in comparison of these, is that which is contained in the root with his fine little strings? Temples stand upon their foundations, and so do the walls of this famous city: and yet the things that bear up the whole work, lie hidden in the ground. The same cometh too pass in all other things. The greatness that groweth out, doth always overspread his own original. I could not attain too any thing, except my parents had first begotten me. Yet is not every thing that I have attained too, less therefore than the thing without which I had not attained unto it. If my nurse had not cherished me when I was a Ba●e, I could have compassed none of the things which I now do both with head and hand: neither should I have com●●●●his renown and honour which I have earned with my tramell both in peace and war. Wilt thou therefore prefer my nurse's doings before my greatest deeds? And what differ●●de is there, seeing I could no more ha●e ●om●●●●●●o any thing without the benefit of my nurse, than without the benefice of my father?   

¶ The xxx Chapter.  
BUt if all that ever I am now able too do, ought too be imputed too my first original: You must consider that my Father is not my beginner, no nor my Grandfather neither. For always the further ye go, there shallbe still some other beginning of the beginning that went last afore. But no man will say I am more behold too mine Aunce●ers whom I never knew, and which are passed the reach of remembrance, than too my Father. But I should be more beholden to them than too my Father, if I be beholden too mine ancestors that I had a Father to beget me.  
Whatsoever I have done for my Father, though it be neverso much, yet (sayest thou) it is nothing in respect of my father's deserts, because I had not been if he had not begotten me. After this manner of reasoning, if any man have healed my Father when he was sick and at deaths door: there is nothing that I can do for him, but it is less than he deserveth, because my Father had not begotten me if he had not been recovered. But see if this carry not a more likelihood of truth: that the thing which I both could do and have done, shouldbee esteemed as mine own, and in mine own power, and at mine own wil That I am borne, if thou look thoroughly what a thing ●o is, thou shalt find it a small matter and an uncertain, and an occasion of good and evil alike, doubtless the first step unto all things, but yet not by andby greater than all things because it is the first of all things.  
I have saved my father's life and advanced him too high estate, and made him a Prince in his country; and I have not only ennobled him with deeds done by me, but also given him a large and easy ground too work upon himself, no less void of peril than full of renown. I have heaped upon him both honour, and wealth, and whatsoever may allure man's mind unto it: and whereas I was above all other men, I submitted myself under him. Tell me now: that a man is able too do these things, cometh it of his Father? I will answer for thee. Yea undoubtedly if too the doing of these things, it was enough too be only borne. But if too living well, the least part be too live: or if thou have given me no more, th●● that which wild beasts and other living things (whereof some are very small, and some most vile) have as well as I: then challenge not that too thyself, which I have not of thee, though I have it not without thee. Put the case I have rendered life for life. In so doing I have surmounted thy gift, in asmuchas I have given it wittingly, and thou hast received it wittingly: & in that I have given it thee, not for mine own pleasures sake, or at leastwise not through pleasure: and finally in that it is so much a greater thing too keep life still than too receive life, as it is a lighter matter too die before a body can fear death, than afterward.   

¶ The xxxi Chapter.  
I gave life to thee when thou mightest use it out of hand: but thou gavest life unto me, when I could not tell whither ever I should enjoy it or no. I gave thee life when thou wart afraid of death thou gavest me life, that I might die. I ga●e thee a full and perfect life: tho● beg a●est me void, of reason, and another body's burden. Wilt thou know how, small a benefice it is too give life in such wise? Thou shoulders have cast me away: or tho● didst me wrong too beget me. Whereby I ga●●●●, ●●at the begetting up the ●ather and mother, is the least benefit that 〈…〉, vn●esse there go with it all other things, which ought too follow this entrance of benefiting, which is too be ratified with other natural duties. It is not good too live: but too live well. But I live well: yea, and I might have lived ill. So is there no more thine, but that I live. If thou vpbrayed me with a life, which of itself is naked, and witless, and vaunte●● of it as of a great good thing: remember that thou twytest me by such a good thing, as is common too flies and worms. again, (that I may allege none other matter, tha● the applying of myself too good learning, too the intent too direct the race of my life in the right way): If I live well, thou haste even in this benefit, received a greater thing than thou gavest. For thou gavest me too myself, rude and unskilful: but I have rendered thee thy son such a one, as thou mayest be glad that ever thou begattest him.   

¶ The xxxii Chapter.  
MY Father hath cherished me: if I do the same too him. I render with an overplus, because it doth him good, not only too have cherished his son, but also too be cherished by his son: and he taketh more pleasure of my good. 〈◊〉, than of the very deed. But his 〈◊〉 of me, 〈◊〉 no further than too my body. What if a man had proceeded so far, that for his Eloquence, his justice, 〈◊〉 his chivalry▪ he were become▪ famous in foreign 〈…〉 also made his Father, highly renowned, 〈…〉 of his 〈◊〉 to shine forth by the 〈…〉 should ●e 〈…〉 Should any man have known 〈…〉 Marc●● Agrippa more beholden to his Father, who was not so much as known after the decease of Agrippa; or his Father more beholden to him, who nobly attained a Seagarlande (the highest honour among all the rewards of chivalry); and builded so many great works in the city, surmounting the royalty of all former works, and unable too be matched of any that were made after? Whither did Octavius more for his son Augustus: or the Emperor Augustus more for his Father Octavius? howbeit that the shadow of the Father by adoption, did overcover the Father by nature. How would it have rejoiced his heart, if he had seen him reigning in quiet peace, after the civil wars were ended? He had been more happy than he could have perceived; and as often as he had looked upon himself, he would scarcely have believed, that so noble a person could have been borne in his house. What should I now proceed with any more, whom forgetfulness had outworn long ago, had not the glory of their children delved them out of darkness, and kept them still in the light? Hereafter let us not ask, whither any son hath done more for his Father, than his Father hath d●one for him▪ but whither it be possible for any son, to do more for his Father, or no? Although the examples that I have rehearsed already do not yet satisfy thee, or surmount the benefits of their parents: yet is it possible by Nature, ●oo be done, howbeit that no age hath hither too brought forth any such as hath done it. For albeit that no one benefit or more severally, be able too surmount the greatness of the parents deserts: yet may many knit together in one surmount them.   

¶ The xxxiii Chapter.  
SCipio saveth his Father in battle: and being scarce man grown, setteth spurs too his horse▪ and giveth charge upon his enemies. Is it but a small thing, that for desire too rescowe his father, he regardeth not so many perils, so many noble Capiteines, so many things assailing him, so many stops incountering him? That being a raw soldier, and the first time that ever he came into the field, he overrunneth the old expert soldiers, and ●utgoeth his own years? Ad here unto that he defendeth his Father arraigned, and delivereth him from the conspiracy of his e●emies that were too strong for him: That he maketh him Cosull twice or thrice and preferreth him too other offices of honour, meet too be covered even of consuls, and consuls pee●es: That he relieveth his poverty with goods gotten by the law a● arms, and (which is the honourablest thing of all among men of war) enricheth him with the spoil of enemies. If all this be too little, put too further, that he continueth him in extraordinary offices, and in the government of provinces: ad also, that by overthrowing of most mighty 〈…〉 without fellow, being the founder and maintainer of the Roman Empire, that was too come from east too West, advanceth the nobleness of his noble Father. Show me the match of this Scipio, and there is 〈…〉 of begetting, shallbe 〈…〉 and vertewe of such a one, I am not able too say, whither too th● greater welfare, or too the greater honour of his country.   

¶ The xxxiiii Chapter.  
Moreover, if all this be too little: admit that some man have discharged his Father from torments, and taken them too himself. For you may enlarge the weldooinge of a son, as far as you list, considering that the benefiting of the Father is simple and easy, yea, and also delightful to the doer. What need we many words? The father giveth life he knows not too whom. And in doing of it he hath a Copartner: he hath an eye too the law of fatherhod; too the reward of fathers, too the continuance of his house and family, and unto all things rather, than him too whom he did it. What if a man having obtained wisdom, do teach the same too his father? (For we will reason upon that point also:) whither hath he done more for his Father, in teaching him too live a blessed life: or his Father more for him in giving him life only? Whatsoever thou doest (will some men say) and whatsoever thou art able too bestow, it is by the benefit of thy father. As well may my Schoolema●ster claim it for his benefit, that I have profited in the liberal Sciences under him: and yet we excel those that have taught us such things: at leastwise those that have taught us our first principles. And although no man can attain any thing without them: yet is not all that a man hath attained, inferior to them. There is great difference between the first things, and the greatest things. The first things are not by and by comparable too the greatest things, because the greatest can not be attained ●nto●●●ithout the first things.   

¶ The xxxv Chapter.  
NOw it is time for me to bring somewhat out of mine own store, if I may so term it.  
He that bestoweth such a benefit as may be bettered, may be surmounted. The father hath given his son life: but there are things better than life: Ergo the father may be surmounted, because there is some better thing than the benefit that he hath bestowed.  
Yea if one that hath given a man life be once or twice delivered from peril of death for it, he hath received a greater benefit than he gave: Ergo if the son save his father oftentimes from danger of death, the father receiveth a better turn than he bestowed.  
He that receiveth a good turn, receiveth so much the greater good turn, as he hath more need of it: But he that liveth hath more need of life than he that is not yet borne, (as who can find no want at all of it): Ergo the father receiveth a greater benefit in his sons saving of his life, than the son receiveth in his father's begetting of him.  
[But thou sayest still, that] the fathers benefits cannot be overmatched by the sons benefits. Why so? Because he hath received life of his father, which if he had not received, he could have done no good turns at all. This care of the father is common too all men that have preserved any bodies life: for they could not have requited, if they had not received life. By the same reason it is not possible too reward a physician above his desert, (for a physician is wont too give life): nor a mariner if he have saved a man from shipwreck. But the benefits as well of these men, as of all others that by any means have given us life, may be surmounted: Ergo the benefits of parents may be surmounted also.  
If a man have bestowed such a benefit upon me as hath need too be furthered by the benefits of many men: and I bestow such a benefit upon him, as should need the help of noman: I have bestowed a greater than I have received.  
The father giveth his child such a life as should have perished out of hand if there had not followed many things too maintain it: But if the son save his father's life, he giveth him such a life as wanteth the help of no man, as too the continuance of it: Ergo the Father that hath received life at his sons hand, hath received a greater benefit than he gave.   

¶ The xxxvi Chapter.  
THese things diminish not the reverence towards parents, ne make their Children worse to them, but rather better. For by Nature Uertewe is desirous of praise, and presseth too outgo the formest. The child's love will be the more cheerful if it go on too requite benefits, with hope of surmounting. If this may come too pass by the mutual consent of the Fathers and the Children: for asmuch as there be many things wherein we may be vanquished too our own behoof: what luckier encounter, what greater felicity can there be to parents: than too be driven too confess themselves, overmatched by their Children in weldooing? If wêe be not of this opinion: we give our Children cause of excuse, and make them the ●lower too render thankfulness, whereas we ought rather to spur them forward, and too say? Gotoo good sons there is an honourable wager laid between the Fathers and the sons, whither they shall have given or received greater benefits. They have not therefore won the wager, because they have begun first: only pluck up a good heart as becomes you, and faint not, that ye may overcome them that would be glad of it. In so goodly an enterprise, you cannot want Capiteines too encourage you too do as they have done afore you, and too haste you forward in their own footsteps, too the victory which they have often heretofore gotten of their parents.   

¶ The xxxvii Chapter.  
AEnaeas overmatched his father. For whereas his father had borne him a Babe when he was a light and safe carriage: he took up his father heavy with age, and carried him through the thickest press of his enemies, and through the ruins of the city falling down about him, at what time the devout old man holding his holy relics and housholdgods in in his arms, loaded him with another burden mightier than himself. Yet bore he him in the fire, yea and (what is not natural love able too do?) he bore him through, and shrined him too be worshipped among the Founders of the Roman empire. The yoongmen of Sicily overmatched their Father. For when Mount. Aetna bursting forth with greater force than was accustomed, had cast forth his fire into the towns, into the fields, and into the greatest part of the island: they caught up their parents, and men believe that the ●●ames clave a sunder, and withdrawing on either side of them, did set open a Gap for those most worthy yoongmen too run out at, that they might safely perform their great attempt. The like victory befell too Antigonus: who having vanquished his enemies in a sore battle, did put the reward of the victory over too his Father, and gave the kingdom of Cyprus into his hands. 
Titus Manlius, the son of Lucius Manlius. Look in Livy the seven. Book of the first Decad. Marcus Pomponius.  The true reigning, is, not to reign when thou mayst. Manlius also overcame his lordly father. For when his father had put him away for a time, because of the brutishness & dullness of his youth: he came to a Tribune of the people that had summoned his father too answer too an indictment: & when the Tribune (in hope he had hated his father, and would therefore have been a traitor to him) believing he should have done the yoongman a pleasure, whose banishment (among other things) he objected too Manlius as a heinous crime,) demanded of him the time that his Father had set him: The yoongman getting him alone, drew out a Dagger that he had hidden in his sleeve, and said too him. If thou swear not too me to discharge my father of his indictment, I will thrust thee through with this Dagger. It is in thy choice after what sort my Father shall have no accuser. The Tribune swore, and kept touch with him, certifying the Court of the cause why he let his Action fall. It had not been for any other man thus too have overruled the Tribune, and too have gone clear away with it.   

¶ The xxxviii Chapter.  
THere are examples upon examples, concerning such as have delivered their parents out of dangers, advanced them from the bacest degree to the highest state; and lifting them from the common and rascal sort, have commended them too the world, never too be forgotten. No force of words, no excellency of wit is able too express, how great, how commendable, and how worthy a matter it is too be had always in remembrance, for a man too be able too say: I have obeyed my parents, I have given place too their commandments were they right or wrong, easy or hard, I have behaved myself obediently and with submission: In this one point only have I been wilful: that I might not be overmatched in well doing. Contend you also I pray you: and when you be vanquished, give a new onset. Happy are those that shall so vanquish; happy are those that shallbe so vanquished. What thing can be more noble, than that yoongman which might say too himself, (for it is not lawful for him too say it too any other body) I have overmatched my father in weldooing? What thing can be more fortunate than that old man, which might every where make his vaunt unto all men, that his son hath overgone him in weldooing? And what greater felicity can there be, than too yield in such a case?  
The end of the third book.    

❧ The fourth book of Lucius Annaeus Seneca, concerning benefits.  

¶ The first chapter.  
OF all the things that we have discoursed (my friend Ebutius Liberalis,) it may seem that no one thing is so needful, or (as Sallust saith) too be treated of with more heed, than that which we be now in hand with: namely whither the doing of good tur●es, and the rendering of thankfulness, are things too be desired for themselves. There are too be found, which set not by honesty but for advantage sake, and which like not virtue without reward: which notwithstanding hath no nobleness in it, if it have any thing set too sale. For what fouler shame can there be, than for a man too make reckoning what it may be worth to him too be honest? when as virtue is neither alured with gain, nor frayed away with loss, and is so far from bribing any man with proffers or promises, that she willeth men too too spend all upon her, and is commonly with them that give themselves freely unto her? He that will go unto her, must tread profit underfoot. Whithersoever she calleth, whither ●●euer she sendeth; thither must a man go without regard at his worldly goods, yea and sometime without sparing his own blood, and he must never refuse too do her commandment. What shall I gain (sayest thou) if I do this thing valiantly, or that thing bountifully? There is nothing promised 〈…〉 happen too thee, 〈…〉 things is in themselves. 〈…〉 thing is too be desired for itself, 〈◊〉 goo●●●oing is an honest thing: it must needs be in the same 〈◊〉 seeing it is of the same nature. But that the thing which is honest, is too be desired for itself: it is often and sufficiently proved already.   

¶ The second chapter.  
IN this point I must wage battle against the delicate and nice company of Epicures, whose philosophy is in their feasting, among whom virtue is the handmaid of pleasures. Them she stoops unto, them she attend upon, them she beholds above her. There is no pleasure (sayeth the Epicure) without virtue. But why is pleasure put before virtue?  
Thou reasonest concerning the order. Our question concerneth the whole thing, and thou argewest upon a part of it. Virtue is not virtue if she can follow. Virtue challengeth the chiefest pre-eminence. She must lead, she must command, she must stand in highest place: and thou biddest her fetch her watchwoord at another.  
What skills it thee, sayest thou? for I also do deny that there can be any blessed life without virtue. I myself also disallow and condemn the pleasure which I follow, and too which I have yielded myself in bondage, if virtue be severed from it.  
The only thing that is in question, is whither virtue be the cause of the soverein good, or the soverein good itself.  
Admit that these be the only thing in question. Suppos●st thou that the ask of it concerneth but the transposing of the order only? certes it were a very confusion and a manifest blindness, too set the Cart before the Horse. I am not displeased that virtue is marshaled behind pleasure: but that ●hee is in any wise matched with pleasure. She is the disdeyner & enemy of pleasure, and shunneth her as far as she can. She is better acquainted with peynfulnesse and grief, and more meet too be grafted into manly misfortune, than into this womanish felicity.   

¶ The third Chapter.  
THese things were too be spoken (my Liberalis) because the doing of good turns (which is the matter whereof we treat) is a point of virtue: & it is a foul shame that it should be done in any other respect, than to have it done. For if we should do it in hope of receiving again: then should we do it too the richest, and not too the woorthyest. But now we prefer the poor man before the greedy rich man. That is no benefit, which hath an eye too the wealth of the person. Moreover, if only profit should allure men too do good: they should do least good, that best might: namely rich men, men of authority, and Kings, because they have least need of other men's help. And a●for the gods, they should bestow none of these their manifold gifts which they power out upon us Night and Day without ceasing. For their own nature sufficeth them in all things, and maynteyneh● tthem in abundance, in safety, and in impossibility too be annoyed. Therefore shall they do good too none, if the only cause of doing good be the regard of themselves & their own profit. Too look about one, not where it may be best bestowed, but where it may be bestowed too most advantage, and from whence it may be taken away with most ease: is not beneficialness, but usury. But forasmuchas such dealing is far of from the gods: It followeth that they be rightly liberal. For if the only cause of doing good be the profit of the doer: Sith God can look for no profit at our hand: there is no cause why God should do us any good.   

¶ The fourth Chapter.  
I know what answer is made too this. Surely God doth no good turns at all, but is careless and regardless of us; and being quite given from the world, buzieth himself about other matters, or (which seemeth too the Epicure too be the sovereign felicity) about nothing, nor is a●ie more inclined too benefiting, than too doing wrong. He that so sayeth, thinketh not y● God heareth the voices of them that pray, nor of them that everywhere lift up their hands too heaven in making their vows both private and public. Which thing doubtless had never come too pass, neither would all the world have agreed too be so mad, as too make sewt unto deaf gods and helpless idols, except they had felt their benefits in very deed, one while freely bestowed, anotherwhyle given upon prayer, and the same too be great, sent in dew season, and by their timely coming ridding men from great miseries that menaced them. And who is so much a wretch or so smally regarded? who was ever borne too so hard a destiny and too so sore penance, that he hath not felt this so great bountifulness of God? Look upon the miserables● of them, even when they lament and bewail their own case: and ye shall not find them altogether void of the heavenly benefits. yea ye shall find none that hath not drawn somewhat out of that most bountiful fountain. Is it a small thing that is given indifferently too all men in their birth? Or (too let pass the things that are distributed afterward in unegal proportion) did nature give a small thing when she gave herself?   

¶ The .v. Chapter.  
Doth not God bestow benefits? from whence then hast thou these things whereof thou art owner? Which thou givest? Which thou deniest? Which thou keepest? Which thou catchest? From whence come these innumerable things that delight the eyes, the ears, and the mind? From whence is this abundance that furnisheth even our riotous excess? For, not only our necessities are provided for, but even our pleasures also are tendered. Whence have we so many trees bearing sundry sorts of fruits, so many wholesome herbs, and so many diversities of meats serving for all seasons through the whole year? insomucheas the very food that cometh of the earth we wot not how, were able too find an unpurueying sluggard. What should I speak of all kind of living things, some breeding upon the dry and hard ground, some within the moist waters, and some sent down from aloft, too the end that every piece of nature should yield some tribute unto us? what should I say of rivers, some with most pleasant wyndlasses environing the fields, and othersome passing forth with huge streams able too be are ships, and intermeddling themselves with the sea? 
uphrates. ●ygris. Nilus. ●o. & others.  whereof some, at certain ordinary days, take wonderful increase, so as the soodein force of the summer's flood, moisteneth the grounds that are situate under the droughty and burning climate. What shall I say of the veins of medcinable waters? what shall I say of the boiling up of hot baths even upon the very shores?  
And what of thee o Mighti Lare, and Benacus which swell▪  
With roaring Bilowes like the Sea when winds do make it fell?   

¶ The vi Chapter.  
IF a man had given thee a few Acres of Ground, thou wouldst say thou hadst received a benefit at his hand: & deniest thou the unmeasurable hugeness of the broad earth too be a benefit? If a man should give thee Monnie and fill thy Chest (for that is a great matter with thee) thou wouldst call it a benefit: and thinkest thou it no benefit, that GOD hath hoardward up so many metals, and shed forth so many streams upon the sands, in ronning down whereupon, they carry with them a huge mass of Gold, silver, brass, and iron hidded everywhere: and also that he hath given thee cunning too find it out by setting marks of his covert riches upon the upper part of the Earth? If a man should give thee a house wherein there were a little glistering Marble, and a roof shining with gold or varnished with colours; wooldest thou call it a mean benefit? God hath builded thee a great house, out of peril of burning or falling, wherein thou seest, not little pieces and thinner than the Chizell itself wherewith they were hewn: but entire huge Masses of most precious stone, whole through out of sundry and several workmanship the small pieces whereof thou woonderestat; the roof of which house shineth after one sort in the day time, and after another in the nighttyme: and dost thou now deny that thou hast received any benefit at all? Again, whereas thou settest great store by these things which thou hast: thinkest thou (which is the point of a thankless person) that thou art beholden to nobody for them? from whence hast thou this breath which thou drawest? from whence hast thou this light, whereby thou disposest and orderest the doings of thy life? from whence hast thou thy blood, by whose mean thy lively heat is maintained? from whence hast thou these things which with their excellent taste provoke thine appetite, even more than thy stomach can bear? from whence hast thou these enticements of pleasure even till thou be weary of it? from whence hast thou this ease wherein thou welterest and witherest away? wilt thou not (if thou be thankful) say?  
God gives this ease, and he shallbe my God for evermore:  
His altars shall my tender lambs embrew full oft therefore.  
For he it is that makes my neat to wander (as ye see)  
And gives me power on oaten reed to pipe with merry glee.  
God is he, not that hath sent out a few Oxen, but which hath dispersed whole herds of all manner of cattles into the whole world: which giveth pasture too the flocks that stray here and there in all quarters: which giveth Somerféede and Winterféede one under another: which not only hath taught men too play upon a reed, and after some manner too sing a rude and homely song unto it: but also hath devised so many arts, so many varieties of words, and so many sounds, too yield sundry tunes, some by force of our own breath, and some by outward wind. For we can no more say, that the things which we have invented, are our own doings: than that it is our own doing that we grow, or that the body hath his full proportion and properties according too his determinate times: as the falling away of teeth in childhood the lustiness of youth growing unto years of more discretion, and the strongness of man's estate passing from thence in too the last age, which pitcheth the bounds of our flightful life. There are sown in us the seeds of all ages, and of all arts: and God as a schoolmaster doth secrettly train forth our natural dispositions.   

¶ The vii Chapter.  
NAture (sayest thou) giveth me these things. perceivest thou not, that when thou sayest so, thou dost but change God's name? For what else is Nature, than God, and God's ordinance planted in the world and in the parts thereof? As often as thou listest, thou mayst call him, sommetymes the author of all things, and sometimes Jove, 
jupiter Opt. Max. Tonans. Stator. Stat●lio.  that is too say, the most gracious and most mighty. Also thou mayst well term him y● Thunderer, and the slander: for he is the very slander, and Stayer: not because the battle of the Romans which was fleeing, stayed and stood still after the making of their vow, (as our historiographers have reported): but because all things stand and are stayed by his benefit. 
〈◊〉.  moreover if thou call him Fate, thou shalt not lie. For whereas Fate is nothing else but a holding on of causes linked one within another: he is the first cause whereupon all the rest depend. Finally thou mayst properly apply too him what names so ever thou wilt, which contain any force and effect of heavenly things. Look how many properties or operacious he hath: so many names may he have.   

¶ The viii Chapter.  
OUr men do also term him father Liber. and Hercules, and Mercury. Father Liber, because he is the father of all things, by whom was first found out the power of seeds, which should be the maynetenance of all things through pleasure. Hercules, because his power is invincible, and shall return into fire when it is weary of working. And Mercury, because Reason, and number, and order, and kunning are in his power. Whithersoever thou turn thyself, thou shalt find him meeting thee. Nothing is exempted from him. He himself filleth his work too the full. Therefore thou unthankfullest of all wights, thou talkest vainly when thou sayest thou art not beholden too God, but too nature. For neither is nature without God, nor God without nature: but both are one thing, without difference of office. If for a thing that thou hadst received of Seneca, thou wooldest say thou art debtor too Annaeus, or Lucius, thou shouldest not thereby change the person of thy Creditor, but his name: because that whither thou call him by his forename, his proper name, or his surname, yet shall he be but all one man. even so, whither thou use the terms of Nature, Fate, or Fortune, it makes no matter: because they all are the names of the self-same God, using his power diversly. Justice, honesty, wisdom, manliness and thriftiness are the goods of the mind which is but one. If thou like any of these, thou likest the mind.   

¶ The ix Chapter.  
BUt too the intent I range not aside into bymatters: I say that God bestoweth right many and exceeding great benefits upon us, without hope of receiving aught again, because that neither he needeth any thing too be bestowed upon him, nor we are able too bestow any thing upon him, Ergo Benefiting is a thing too be desired for it owneself, and nothing is too be respected in it but only the receivers commodity. This is the thing that we must tend unto, setting a●yde our own commodities.  
But (sayeth he) thou hast told us we must make aware choice on whom we bestow our good turns: because that not even the husbandman will beta●● his seed too the sand: Ergo we must seek our own profit in doing good turns, like as we do in tilling and sowing: for too sow is not a thing too be desired for itself. Besides this, ye take advisement in doing your good turn: which thing ought not too be, if the doing of good turns were a thing too be desired for itself: for in what place so ever and in what wise so ever it were done, it were still a good turn.  
We follow the thing that is honest, for none other cause than for itself. And although none other thing be too be sought in in it: Yet notwithstanding we bethink ourselves what we may do, and when, and after what sort, for in these things it consisteth. Therefore when Ibethinke me upon whom I may bestow my good turn: I endeavour that it may be a goodturne in deed. For if it be bestowed upon an unhonest person; it can he neither honest, nor a goodturne.   

¶ The ten Chapter.  
TOO restore a thing that a man hath taken too keep, is a thing too be desired for itself: Yet shall I not always restore it, nor in all places, nor at all times. Sometime my utter denying of it may be as good as the open restoring of it. I must have an eye too the profit of him to whom I should restore it: and if the deliverance will do him hatme, I shall keep it still from him. The same thing must I do in benefyting. I must consider too whom I give, when I give, in what wise, and wherefore. For nothing is too be done without discretion. It is no good turn except it be done upon reason: because reason is the companion of all honesty. How oft have we heard men (that found fault with themselves for their unadvised bestowing), cast forth these words? I had liefer I had lost it, than bestowed it where I did. It is the foulest kind of bestowing that can be, too bestow unadvisedly: and it is much more grief too have bestowed a good turn amiss, than not too have received any. For it is the fault of other men that we have received none: but it is our own fault that we made no choice in bestowing. In making my choice, I will respect nothing less than that which thou surmysest: namely of whom I shallbe best recompensed. For I will choose such a one as willbe thankful, and not such a one as will make recompense. Oftentimes, he that shall never requite, shallbe thankful, and he that hath requited shallbe unthankful. I make estimation of him by his mind. Therefore I overpass the rich man, if he be unworthy: & bestow upon the poor man that is good. For in extreme poverty, he willbe thankful: and when he wanteth all things, his heart shall yield abundance. I hunt not for gain by my good turn, nor for pleasure, nor for glory. Contenting myself too please but one, I will bestow too the end too do as I ought too do: And that which I ought too do, is not too be done without choice. What manner of choice the same shallbe, that do you demand.   

¶ The xi Chapter.  
I Will choose a man that is honest, plain, mindful, thankful, not gripple of other men's goods, nor covetously pinching his own, and such a one as is well minded. When I have found such a man, although fortune lend him nothing wherewith too requite: yet is the matter fallen out as I wished. If selfprofit and filthy forereckening upon gain do make me liberal: If I shall befriend none, but because he should befriend me again: then shall I not benefit him that is taking his journey into foreign and far countries: then shall I not pleasure such a one as must dwell away for ever: then shall I not do for one that is so sick as he is past all hope of recovery: Then shall I not bestow aught when I am passing out of the world myself: for I shall have no time too receive friendship again. But too the intent thou mayst know, that the doing of good turns is a thing too be coveted for itsef: we must relieve the strangers that arrived but even now upon our coast, and shall go away by and by again. If a stranger suffer shipwreck, we must give him a ship ready rigged too convey him home again. He goes his way scarce knowing the worker of his welfare: and never thinking too come in our sight again, he setteth us over too the gods for his Det, and prayeth them too make recompense for him. In the mean while we be delighted with the remembrance of a barren benefit. I pray you, when we be hard at deaths door, and when we make our Will: do we not distribute benefits that shall nothing profit ourselves? How much time spend we, how long debate we in secret, how much we may give, and too whom? But what skills it too whom we give, seeing we shall receive of none? Nay rather, we be never more aware in bestowing, nor we never strain our wits more than at that time, when all profit set aside, there standeth nothing before our eyes but honesty. For so long as fear, or the doltish vice of voluptuouse●esse corrupteth or judgement, we continue evil judges of duties and deserts. But when death hath forestalled all things, and sent an uncorrupt judge to give sentence: Then seek we the worthiest too bestow our things upon. Neither have we a more conscionable care too set any thing at a stay, than that which pertaineth no longer unto us.   

¶ The xii Chapter.  
AND in good sooth, it is even then a great pleasure for a man too think with himself, I shall make such a one wealthier: and by increasing his riches. I shall advance the countenance of his estate. If we shall do no good, but when we may receive again: then must we die intestate.  
You avouch (saith he) that a benefit is an undischargeable debt: but a debt is not a thing too be coveted for itself: Ergo benefyting or gooddooing is not too be desired for itself. When we term it a debt, we use a resemblance and a borrowed speech. For likewise we know that law is the rule of right and wrong: and yet that a rule is not a thing too be covered for itself. Our falling into these terms, is for the better opening of the matter. When I say a Det, I mean as it were a Det. And that thou mayst know my meaning to be so, I add, undischargeable: when as there is no debt but it either may or aught too be dischaged. So little ought a good-turne too be done for lukers' sake, that oftentimes (as I said) we must do it with our loss and peril. As for example: I reskwe a man beset with thieves, so as he is suffered too go away safely. I defend an accused person that is in danger to be oppressed by partiality, and purchase the displeasure of great men for my labour: so as they charge me with maintenance: and the misery that I dispatched him out of, lighteth perchance upon myself, whereas I might have gone against him, or safely have sitten still as a looker on in another man's matter. Yea I undertake for him when judgement is past against him, and suffer not execution to go out upon his goods, but offer too be bound for him too his creditors: and too the intent I may save him from outlawing. I run in danger to be outlawed myself. Noman being ready too purchase the manured of Tusculum or of Tyburt for his healths sake, or too repose himself in it in the summer season, will stand debating for what years he shall buy it: when he hath bought it, he must hold him too it. The like reason is in benefyting. For if ye ask what it should yield again, I answer, a good conscience. What doth Benefyting yield? Tell thou me what justice yieldeth, what innocency yieldeth, what nobleness of courage yieldeth, what chastity yieldeth, what advysednesse yieldeth, and whither thou exactest any more of these, than the virtues themselves.   

¶ The xiii Chapter.  
FOr what purpose acc●mplisheth the world his dew course? For what purpose doth the sun lengthen and shorten the day? All these be benefits: for they be done for our behoof. Like as it is the duty of the world too carry things about in order: And as it is the duty of the sun too shift his place from whence he riseth, too the coast where he setteth: and too do these things for our welfare, without reward: even so is it man's duty, among other things, too do good turns also. Wherefore then doth he them? Lest he should not do them, and so lose occasion of welldooing. It is a pleasure too you too accustom the lither body to lazy idleness, and too seek a kind of ease very like theirs that are in a slumber: and too lurk under a covert shadow, feeding the sluggishness of your drowsy minds, with most nice conceits, which you term quietness: and too pamper your unwieldy carcases till they wax wan, with meats and drinks in the lurkingholes of your gardens. But as for us we have a manly pleasure: namely too do good turns, either too our own pain while we ease other men of their pains; or too our own peril, while we pluck other folks out of peril; or too the increase of our own charges, while we relieve the necessities and distresses of others. What matter is it too me, whither I receive any good turns or no? For even when I have received, then must I bestow. Benefiting hath respect too the commodity of him on whom it is bestowed, and not too our own. Otherwise we bestow it on ourselves, and not on him. Therefore many things that greatly profit other men, do lose their grace and thank, because they be done for gain. The Merchantman doth good too his country, the physician too sick persons, the horse-courser too his Chapmen: and yet all these men make not those beholden to them that receive good by them, because that in their profiting of others they seek their own gain.   

¶ The xiiii Chapter.  
IT is no benefit, that is set too sale. This will I give, this will I take, is plain bargaining. I cannot call her a chaste woman which hath given her lover a repulse too set him the sharper. She that keeps herself honest for fear of the law, or fear of her husband, is not honest. For as Ovid saith, 
The wife that lives chastened compelled thereto,  
Because that she dareth none otherwise do:  
Deserves too be counted as ill in effect,  
As she whom her doings do plainly detect.   
Not undeservedly is she accounted in the number of offender's, which kept herself honest for fear, and not for honesties sake. In semblable wise, he that doth a good turn too the intent too receive another, doth none at all. Otherwise it might be inferred, that we benefit the brute beasts, which we cherish either for our service, or for our food: and that we benefit our Drtyardes when we tend them, that they may not decay through brought or binding of the sooyle, for want of digging and lookingtoo. But it is not in respect of right and equity, that any man takes in hand too Manure the ground, or to do any other thing whose fruit is without itself. Neither is it a covetous and filthy thought, that leadeth a man too do good turns: but it is a manly and a frank heart, desirous too bestow even when it hath bestowed already; and too augment the old with fresh and new; not regarding how gainful they may be too the bestower. For else, too do good because it is a man's own profit, is a base thing, praiselesse, and commendacionlesse. What excellency is it for a man too love himself, too spare himself, and to gather for himself? The true purpose of benefiting, calleth a man away from all these things: and laying hand upon him draweth him too loss. It forsaketh selfprofit, and joyeth exceedingly in the berry act of gooddooing.   

¶ The xu Chapter.  
IS there any doubt, but harm is contrary too doing good? Like as too do harm is a thing too be eschewed and shunned for itself: even so too do good, is a thing too be coveted for itself. In the first, the shame of dishonesty prevaileth against all rewards that allure to wickedness: in the other the beautifulness of honesty, being effectual of itself, allureth men unto it. I shall speak no untruth, if I say there is no man but he loveth his own benefits; nor no man but he is of that mind, that he would be the gladder too see him, for whom he hath done much; nor no man that would forbear too do one good, because he had done for him once afore. Which thing could not come too pass, except the welldooing itself delighted us. How often shall ye here men say: I cannot find in my heart too forsake him whose life I have saved, and whom I have delivered out of danger. He requesteth me to stand on his side against men of authority. I am loath too do it: but what shall I dod? I have befreended him once or twice already. See you not how in this case, there is a certain peculiar force which compelleth us too do men good? first because it behoveth too do it: & afterward because we have done it already? Upon whom we had no cause too bestow any thing at the first, upon him we bestow somewhat afterward, even in respect that we have done for him already. Yea, and solittle doth our own profit move us too benefiting: that we persever in tendering and maintaining the same, even without profit, only for love of doing good. And it is as natural a thing too bear with our unlucky bestowing, as to bear with our children when they do amiss.   

¶ The xvi Chapter.  
THE same persons bear us in hand, that men render thankfulness also, not for that it is honest so too do, but because it is profitable. Which thing may be disproved with the less labour, because that look with what arguments we have gathered, that the doing of good turns, is a thing too be desired for itself: by the same way we also gather, that the rendering of thankfulness is of the same sort. This is once an unmovable ground, from whence we fetch our proofs for the rest: that the thing which is honest is too be followed, for none other cause, than for that it is honest. And who is so fond as too doubt, whither it be an honest matter too be thankful? Who would not detest an unthankful person unprofitable to himself? When thou hearest of one that is unthankful to his friend that hath been very beneficial to him, how wilt thou construe it? That he hath played an unhonest part in so doing: Or that he hath dealt fond, in omitting the thing that was for his commodity and profit? I trow thou wilt take him too be the wicked man, which ha●h need of punishment; and not him which hath need of an overseer too look too the ordering of things too his profit. Which thing should not fall out so, unless thankfulness were a thing both honest, and too be desired for itself. Other things perhaps do less utter their own worthiness, and have need of an interpreter too tell whither they be honest or no. But this is more apparent & beautiful than that the brightness thereof should cast but a dim and glimmering light. What is so commendable, what is so universally received in the minds of all men: as to render thankfulness for good deserts?   

¶ The xvii Chapter.  
BEsides this: tell me what cause leadeth us too be thankful? Gain whosoever despiseth not gain is unthankful. Ambition? And what brag is it too have paid that which thou owest? Fear? A man needs not be afraid too be unthankful. For as though Nature had provided sufficiently in that behalf: we have made no law for it, like as there is no law too bind children too love their parents, or parents too tender their children: For it is more than needeth, too enforce us too that thing whereunto we are inclined of Nature. And like as noman needs too be encouraged too self love, because he hath it by kind: So is noman too be exhorted too covet honest things for their own sake, because they like us of their own nature. Yea and virtue is so gracious a thing: that too allow of good things, is engraffed even in evil men. Who is he that would not seem beneficial? who covets not too be counted good, even when he doth most wickedness and wrong? Who is he that sets not some colour of right, upon the things that he hath done most outrageously? Or that would not seem too have been good master, even too those whom he hath harmed? Therefore are they contented too receive thanks of those whom they have vexed. And because they cannot show themselves too be good and liberal in deed: they set a good face upon the matter. Which thing they would not do, unless the thing that is honest, and too be desired for itself, compelled them too seek an opinion contrary too their disposition, and too cloak the naughtiness whose fruit they covet, though they hate the thing itself, and are ashamed of it. Neither hath any man revolted so far from the law of Nature, and degenerated so far out of kind, that he would be nought for none other cause, but for his minds sake only. Ask any of these that live upon the spoil, whither they had not liefer too come by the things which they seek, by good means, than by robbing and stealing? He that makes his gain of setting upon men by the highways side, and of killing men that pass by, would wish too find those things, rather than too take them by force. Yea, ye shall find no man, whose heart would not fame enjoy the reward of his naughtiness, without the doing of the naughty deed itself. Most highly are we bound too Nature in this respect, that virtue sheddeth her light so into men's minds, as even they that follow her not, do see her.   

¶ The xviii Chapter.  
TOO the end thou mayst know that the affection of a thankful mind, is a thing too be desired for itself: too be unthankful is a thing too be eschewed for itself: Nothing doth so much unknit and pluck asunder the concord of mankind, as that vice. For in what other thing have we so much safety, as in helping one another with mutual freendlynes? Through this only one intercourse of good turns, our life is both better furnished, & better fenced against sudden assaults. Put everyman too himself alone, and what are we? A pray for beasts, a slaughter for Sacrifice, and very eazie to have our blood shed. Because the rest of living creatures, should have strength enough for their own defence: as many of them as are bred too stray abroad, and too live solitary by themselves, are armed. Man is hemmed in with weakness. Nature hath given him two things (namely Reason and fellowship) which make him strongest of all, whereas else he should be underling too all. And so, he that by himself alone could be able too match none; by means of fellowship overmatcheth all. Fellowship hath given him the sovereignty of all things. Whereas he is borne but for the Land: fellowship hath conveyed him into the sovereignty of an other nature, and made him Lord of the Sea also. This hath restrained the rage of Diseases, provided helps aforehand for old age, and given comfort against sorrows. This maketh us strong: so as we may be able too hold plea against fortune. Take away this fellowship, and ye rend asunder the unity of mankind, whereby our life is maintained. But ye take it away, if ye bring too pass that a thankless mind is not too be eschewed for itself, but because it should stand in fear of some other thing. For how many be there, that might be unthankful without hurt or danger? Therefore too conclude, whosoever is thankful for fear of afterclappes, I avow him too be unthanfull.   

¶ The xix Chapter.  
NOman that is sound of his wits, feareth the goods. For it is a madness too fear wholesome things: Neither doth any man love those whom he feareth.  
Bylyke then thou epicure disarmest God. Thou hast bereft him of all his weapons, and of all his power. And lest any man might be afraid of him, thou hast cooped him up in a corner, beyond the reach of fear. For sith thouhast enclosed him within so house a wall, where it is not possible for him too get out, and hast separated him so far from men, as he can neither touch them nor see them: it were no reason thou shouldest be afraid of him, for he hath nothing to deal with thee, either too do thee good or harm. Sitting in a middle room between thus heaven and another, all alone without company of any creature, without any thing, he shunneth the ruins of the world's falling down above him and about him, neither harkening too our prayers, nor having any care at all of us. And yet thou wilt needs seem too worship him as thy Father, only (as I ween) of a thankful mind. Or if thou wilt not seem thankful, because thou art not benefited by him, but art casually & at all adventures clumpered together by these little mores and fine crumbs of thine: why dost thou worship him? For his excellent majesty (sayest thou) and for his singular nature. I grant thou dost so: and then doest thou it not upon persuasion of any reward: Ergo there is some thing too be desired for itself, the very worthiness whereof draweth thee unto it▪ and that is honesty. But what is more honest, than too be thankful? The substance of this virtue spreadeth out as far as doth our life.   

¶ The twenty Chapter.  
BUT in this good thing (sayest thou) there is some profit: for in what virtue is there no profit?  
Nay verily, that thing is said to be coveted for itself, which though it have some commodities without itself, is notwithstanding well liked of, even when those commodities be set aside and taken away. It profiteth me too be thankful: yea, and I willbe thankful though it were too my harm. What seeketh he that is thankful? That his thankfulness may win him more friends and more goodturnes. But what if it should procure him displeasure? what if a man shall perceive himself too be so far from gaining any thing at all by it, that he must for go much, even of that which he had gotten and laid up in store? Shall he not willingly hazard his own loss? He is a churl which bears a sick man company, because he is about too make his will: or hath his mind ronning upon the Heritage or Legacies that shall be bequeathed him. For although he do all things that a good friend and one that is mindful of his duty ought too do: yet notwithstanding, if his mind wave in hope, if he long for lucre, if he castfoorth his angle, if he linger for the death of the party and hover about his carcase, like carrion crows which stand spying near at hand for the fall of cattle with the rot: he is but a churl. The thankful mind is led with the goodness of his own purpose.   

¶ The xxi Chapter.  
WIlt thou●bee sure that this is so, and that a thankful person is not corrupted with gain? There be two kinds of thankfulness. He is called thankful which rendereth somewhat for that which he hath received. This man perhaps may vaunt himself, he hath where of too boast, he hath too allege for himself. And he is called thankful also, which hath taken a goodturne with good will, and with good will oweth it. This man is shut up within his own conscience. What profit can befall him of his own hidden affection? Yet is this man thankful, if he be able too do romore: for he loveth, he oweth, and he would fain requite. What soever is wanting else, the lack is not in him. A work man is a work man though he want tools too work withal: and a cunuing Musician is a Musician, though his voice cannot be hard for the noyze of tramplers. If I be willing too requite: yet is there somewhat behind: not that may make me thankful: but that may make me free. For oftentimes he that hath requited is unthankful, and he that hath not, is thankful. For like as of all other virtues: so of this also, the whole estimation redoundeth too the mind. As long as he doth his duty: whatsoever wanteth besides, is the fault of fortune. In like manner as an eloquent man is eloquent though he hold his peace: and a strong man is strong, even when his hands are shut together, yea or fast bound: and as a pilot is a pilot though he be upon the dry Land: because there is no want of perfectness in their skill, although there be some let that their skill cannot show itself: even so also is he thankful that, only hath a desire too be thankful, and hath none other record of his willingness but himself. Nay, I will say thus much more: sometime even he is thankful, which seemeth unthankful, and whom misweening opinion hath reported too be blame worthy. What other thing now hath such a one too stick too, but his own conscience? Which gladdeth even when it is overwhelmed; which k●yeth co●rarie too the multitude and the report of common brute, and reposeth all her trust in herself: and though she see never so huge a multitude holding against her: she accounteth not the number of their voices, but justifieth herself by our own secret knowledge. And albeit she perceive her faithfulness too bear the punishment of falshhod: Yet she abateth nowhit of her haltiness, but advanceth hirself above her punishment.   

¶ The xxii Chapter.  
I have (sayeth he) that I would have, and that I desired. It repentes me not ne shall repent me, neither shall fortune (do the worst she can (bring me too the point that I should say: what meant I? what hath my good will booted me? It booteth me even upon the rack; It booteth me even in the fire. For though it should be put too every member one after another, and consume the body alive by piecemeal: yet too a man that knows well by himself, whose heart being good is full fraughted with the stream of a clear conscience, the fire shallbe welcome wherethrough the b●yghtnesse of his good conscience 〈◊〉 forth. Now also let this argument aforesaid come in place again: namely, what is the cause that moveth us too be so friendly at the time of our death? why we should weigh each persons deserts? why we should enforce our memory too examine all our former life, and by all means endeavour too show that we have not forgotten any man's kindness? At that time there remaineth nothing for hope too ●inger upon: and yet standing at the pi●tes brim, our desire is too depart this world as friendly as may be. verily ye may see there is a great reward of the deed, in the very doing of it. And great is the power of honesty too allure men's hearts unto it. For the beauty thereof surpryseth men's minds, and ravisheth th●m with singular pleasure in beholding the brightness of h●r light.  
But many commodities ensue of it, and good men live more in safety, yea and (according too the judgement of good men) more at ease too, where innocency and a thankful mind go with it. For nature had done us too much wrong, if it had made this so great a good thing, too have been miserable, and uncertain, and barren.  
But look thus much further: whither thou couldst find in thy heart, too make thy way unto this virtue, which (oftentimes hath a safe and easy passage unto it) by stones and rocks, or by a passage beset with savage beasts and serpents.   

¶ The xxiii Chapter.  
A Thing is not therefore the less too be desired for it own sake, because it hath some foreign profit cleaving unto it too boot. For commonly the goodliest things are all of them accompanied with many casual commodities: but yet so, as they draw 〈◊〉 commodities after them and they themselves go before. Is there any doubt, but that the son and the moon do govern this dwelling place of mankind, by keeping their tur●es in passing about? or that by the heat of the 〈…〉 bodies be cherished, the earth relieved, superfluous moisture abated, & the irksomeness of winter that bindeth all things allayed? or that by the effectual & piercing warmth of the moon, the ripening fruits are moistened? Or that the fruitfulness of man is answerable too the course of her? Or that the son by his far compassing, maketh the year discernible: and the moon by her turning in shorter space, maketh the month? But admit thou tookest these things away: were not the son of itself a meet sight for the eyes to behold, and worthy too be had in estimation, though he did no more but pass by us? were not the moon worthy to be reverenced, though she ran by us but as an idle star? When the sky casteth forth his fires by night, shining with such an innumerable multitude of stars: whom doth it not force too look earnestly upon it? And who thinketh then of any profit by them, when he so woondereth at them? Behold these things that glide aloft in the still sky, after what sort hide they their swiftness under appearance of a standing and unmovable work? How much is done in this night, which thou observest only for a reckoning and difference from the days? what a multitude of things is wound out in this stillness? what a row of Destinies doth this certeie bond bring forth? These things which thou regardest not otherwise than as things dispersed for beautifying, are every one of them occupied in working. For thou must not think, that only the seven Planets do move, and all the rest stand still. We comprehend the movings of few, but there be Gods innumerable and withdrawn far from our sight, which both go and come. And of those that our sight can perceive, diverse walk an elendge course, & pass in covert. Whythen shouldest thou not be delighted to behold so huge a work, yea though it ruled thee not preserved thee not, cherished thee not, engendered thee not, ne watered thee not with his spirit?   

¶ The xxiiii Chapter.  
NOw like as in these things, although they be most behooveful, and are both necessary and profitable, yet is it the majesty of them that occupieth the whole mind: even so all vextue, (and specially the virtue of thankfulness,) yieldeth very much profit. but it will not be loved for the same, for it hath yet a further thing in it, neither is it sufficiently understood of him, which accounteth it among gainful things.  
A man is thankful because it is for his own profit: Ergo, also he is thankful but so much as is for his profit. Virtue interteineth not a miserly lover. A man must not come unto her streytlaced. The churl thinketh thus: I would fain requite kindness, but I am afraid of cost: I am afraid of danger: I am afraid of displeasure: I will rather do that which is for mine ease. One self-same cause of dealing cannot make a man both thankful and unthankful. As their woorkinges are divers, so are their purposes divers. The one is unthankful though he ought not, because it is for his profit. The other is thankful though it be not for his profit, because he ought so too be.   

¶ The xxv Chapter.  
OUR purpose is too live according too Nature, and too follow the example of the Gods. But whatsoever the Gods do, no other reason leadeth them too do it, save only the deed itself: unless peradventure thou imagine them too receive the reward of their doings, from the smoke of beasts bowels, and from the rank sent of frankincense. See how great things they daily bring too pass: how great things they bestow among men: with how great foyzon of fruits they replenish the earth: with how seasonable winds and fit too carry at all hours, they blow through the Seas: and with how great showers soodeinly powered down, they soften the ground, refreshing the dried veins of the springs, and renewing them by shedding covert nourishment into them. All these things do they without any profit coming too themselves thereby. Therefore let our Reason also (if it disagree not from his pattern) keep the same course, that it come not as an hireling too honest things. Let it be ashamed too make sale-ware of any weldoowing. We have the gods frank and free. If thou follow th'example of the gods, thou must do good even to the thankless: For the son riseth upon the wicked, and the Seas are open too pirates.   

¶ T xxvi Chapter.  
IN this place they demand, whither a good man shall do a thankless person a good turn, knowing him too be thankless. Give me leave too say somewhat by the way, lest I be overtaken with this captious question. You must understand, that after the constitutions of the stoics, there be two manner of thankless persons. The one of these thankless persons, is the Foole. For a fool is he that is evil; but he that is evil, is void of no vice: Ergo he is also unthankful. Likewise we say that all evil men are heady, covetous, lecherous, and malicious. Not because all these great vices are notorious in every evil person: but because they may be, and are in them though they be undiscovered. The other thankless person is he that is commonly said too be naturally inclined too the vice of unthankfulness. To that thankless person which hath the vice of thankfulness, none otherwise but as he hath all other vices, a good man must do good turns. For if he should withhold from such: he should do good too noman. But affor the other thankless person, too whom all is fish that comes too net, and which makes no conscience at all of the matter: he shall no more bestow a good turn upon him, than upon a thief. Who will put an unthrift in trust with his money, or leave a Pledge in the hand of him that hath forsworn many men their Pledges before? We call him fearful which is foolish and led by naughtipackes that are beset with all kind of vices without exception. Also he is properly called fearful by nature, which is frighted at every trifling noyze. The fool hath all vices, yet is he not naturally given to them all. One is given too Nigardship, another too Lechery, and another too malapertness.   

¶ The xxvii Chapter.  
T●ey do● 〈◊〉 therefore, which say to the stoics: What then? Is Achilles ●earfull? What then? Is Aristides (who is renowned for judice) unjust? Wha● then? Is Fabius (who 〈◊〉 the common weal by his pausing) rash? What then? I● Decius afraid of Death? Is Mutius a traitor? Is Camillus a forsaker? We say not that all vices are after like sort in all men, as they utter themselves severally in some men: but we say that an evil man and a fool are not utterly void of any vice, in so much that we acquit not the bold man of fear, nor discharge the prodigal man of nigardlynes. Like as men have all senses, and yet all men have not eyesight like unto Lyncens even so all fools have not all vices so fierce and heady, as some of them have some vices. All vices are in all men: But yet all utter not themselves in every man. One man is naturally led unto covetousness, another unto lechery, and the third is given too drunkenness: Or if he be not yet given over too it, at leastwise he is so framed too it, that his disposition draweth him towards it. Therefore (too the intent I may turn again too my purpose,) There is no man but he is unthankful, because there is no man but he is evil: for he hath the seeds of all naughtiness in him. Notwithstanding, properly he is called unthankful, which is bent too the vice of unthankfulness. Upon such a one shall I bestow no benefit. For like as he provideth ill for his daughter, that marrieth her to a man defamed and often divorced: and like as he is counted an ill householder, which maketh such a one Steward of his house, as hath been condemned of false dealing: and like as he shall make a very mad will, which leaveth such a one too be his sons garden, as is a spoiler of fatherless Children: So shall he be tho●ght too bestow his benefits very unadvisedly, which picketh out thankless persons, on whom all that is bestowed is lost.   

¶ The xxviii Chapter.  
THe gods (saith he) give many things too the thankless, whereas they had prepared them only for goodmen. Nay, they hap also too the evil, because they cannot be parted asunder. And it is more reason too profit even the bad for the goods sake, than too fail the good for the bads sake. For according to thine own saying, the day, the sun, the intercourse of Winter and Summer, the middle temperateness of Springtyme and harvest, the Showers and Waterspringes, and the ordinary blasts of the winds were devised by the gods for all men in general, and they ●ould not bar men from them in several. The king gives promotions too the worthy, and dole even too the unworthy. As well the thief as the perjured person, and the Whoremonger, and without exception, whosoever is a citizen, takes part of the como●●g●aine. When there is any thing too be bestowed simply as upon a citizen and not as upon a good citizen; both the good and the bad receive of it indifferently. God also hath granted some things in common too all mankind, from which no man is excluded. For it could not be, that one ●el● same w●nde should be prosperous too good men, an●●ontrary too evil men. Now then, that the sea should be open for traffic, and that the dominion of mankind should have a larger scope: it was for the como● benefit of all men. Again, it was not possible too ●ynde the rain too any law in falling, so as it shoul● shun the grounds of e●ill and wic●●d men. 〈◊〉 things are set indifferent. cities are 〈◊〉 as well 〈…〉 men as for good. The monuments of 〈◊〉 are published by setting forth, and shall come too the hands even of the unworthy. Lea●hecrafte ministereth help e●en too the wicked. Noman suppresseth the making of wholsomme salves, for 〈◊〉 leas● the unworthy should be healed. 〈◊〉 thou a 〈◊〉 examination and 〈…〉 in the things that are be●●towed severally as upon the worthy, and no● in the things that admit every rasc all without exception. For there is great difference between the not excluding of a man, and the choosing of a man● The right of the law is yielded too all men. Even murderers enjoy the peace, and those that have taken away other men's goods recover their own. Such as are ready too quarrel, and too strike every man in time of peace, are defended from the enemy with a wall in time of war. Such as have offended most heinously against the law, are defended by protection of the law. Some things are of that Nature, that they could not happen too any in several, if they were not permitted too all in general. Therefore there is no cause why thou shouldest make any talk of these things, whereunto we be called in common. But as for the thing that must come too another man by my discretion, I will not bestow it upon such a one as I know too be a churl.   

¶ The xxix Chapter.  
Wilt thou then (saith he) neither give ● churl coun●ell if he ask thyn● advice, nor suffer him too draw water, nor show him his way if he be ●ut of it? Or wilt● thou do these things, but not bestow ●ny thing upon him?  
I will make a distinction in this case, or a● leastwise I will assay too make one. A benefit is a behooveful deed, and yet is not every 〈◊〉 deed ● benefit. For some things are so small as th●y attain not too the name of a benefit. Two things 〈…〉 m●kyng of a benefit. First, greatness: for some things are far under the reach of that name. Who ever termed 〈◊〉 a benefit, too have gotten a shiver of bread, or a vile Dodkin by begging? Or too have ●otten leave too light a candle at an other man's fire? And 〈…〉 and then; these things 〈…〉 in more stead than the greatest things. But the profit of them bereaveth them of their grace, even when the necessity of the time maketh them needful. again, (which is of greatest force) it must fall out that I do my good turn for his sake too whom I would have it come, and that I deem him worthy of it, and that I give it with a good will, as one that is glad of his welfare. Of which points there is none at all in these things that we spoke of. For we bestow them not as upon worthy persons, but carelessly as small things: and we give them not for the man's sake, but for manners sake.   

¶ The xxx Chapter.  
I Deny not but I may now and then bestow some things, even upon the unworthy, for other men's sakes: like as in sewtes of promotion, some that were very unhonest have for their nobility been preferred before those that were full of activity: and not without reason. For holy is the memorial of great virtues, and it provoketh the more too be good, when the thank of their well doings dieth not with themselves. What thing made Cicero's son consul, but his Father? What thing received Cinna now o'late out of the enemy's camp too the Consulship? What thing admitted Sextus Pompeius and the other Pompey's likewise, but the greatness of that one man Cneus Pompeius, who had been of such reputation, that even his very fall was enough too his posterity? What made Fabius Persicus (whose mouth even the filthy sort of men were loath too kiss) what made him priest (I say) in more colleges than one, but the Verrucoses and Allobrogikes, and those three hundred which adventured their whole fam●lie, in defence of the common weal, against the invasion of the enemy? So much are we beholden unto virtues, that we ought too honour them, not only while they be present, but also when they be gone out of out sight. For like as those persons have dealt in such wise, as they not only did good unto one age, but also left their benefits behind them: so also are we thankful to them in more ages than one. This man hath begotten noble personages: he is worthy of good turns whatsoever he himself is, because he hath brought forth such. Another is borne of noble aunce●ors: whatsoever he himself is, let him be shrouded under the shadow of his forefathers. Like as unclean places be lightened by the brightness of the sun: so let unthrifts be overshined with the brightness of their ancestors.   

¶ The xxxi Chapter.  
MY friend Liberalis, here I mean too excuse the gods. For oftentimes we be wont too say, what providence was it to● make Arrhideus king? Thinkest thou that this befell him for his own● sake? No: it befell him for his father's and his brother's sakes. Why did God give th● sovereignty of the world too Caligula, a man so overdesyrous of man's blood, that he made it too come spouting out before his face, as if he would have received it in his mouth. Welthen, supposest thou he had this preferment for his own sake? No: it was for his father Germanicus sake; it was for his grandfather and great grandfathers sake; and for other of his ancestors sakes afore them, who were as noble as they, though they lived a private life no higher in degree than other men. What? when thou thyself madest Mamercus Scaurus consul, witted thou not in what filthiness he wallowed with his lasses? For, did he himself dissemble the matter? Had he any will too seem honest? I will rehearse a saying of his which I remember is commonly bruited, and which was praised in his own presence. Using a Ribaudly term, he said too one Pollio Annius, that he would do a thing to him which he had liefer have done too himself. And when he saw Pollio begin too knit the brows at him; if I have said amiss (qd he) to myself and to mine own head be it spoken. This saying of his, he himself blazed abrade. Haste thou admitted a man so openly filthy, too the Mace and the judgementseate? verily when tho● thoughte●● upon the ancient Scanrus the chief precedent of the Se●ate, it grieved thee that his offspring should be embased.   

¶ The xxxii Chapter.  
IT is a likelihood that the gods deal the fa●orablier with some men for their parents and Aunceters' sakes: and with othersome for the towardness that shallbe in their Children and childers children, and in the issue of them a great while too come. For they know the success of thei● work, and 〈…〉 thurrowe their 〈◊〉, is always manifest unto them: b●t it stealeth upon us 〈◊〉 of the covert. The things that we suppos● too be casual and soodein, are foreséen and familiar unto them. Let these be Kings (say they) though their Aunceters' were none, because they have accounted justice and abstinency too be the highe●● sovereignty, & because they have applied themselves to the com●nwelth, & not the comonwelth to themselves. Let these reign because some good man was their great grandfather, whose mind surmounted his fortune, who in civil dissension chose rather too be vanquished than too vanquish, because it was for the profit of the common weal. His goodness could not be requited of so long a while. In respect of that man, let this man have pre-eminence over others: not because he is of knowledge and ability too use it, but because the other hath deserved it for him. For peradventure this man is of body misshapen, of countenance loathsome, and will be a slander too the place and persons of his adua●ncement. Now will men find fault with me, and say I am blind and rash, and ignorant where too bestow the things that are due too the chiefest and excellentest persons. But I know that my giving of this thing too the one, is a paying of it too the other too whom it was due long ago. Whereby (say they) do yòu know that this man that was such a shunner of glory when it followed him, that he adventured upon peril with the same countenance that others escape it, and that he never made difference betwe●n●, his own profit and the profit of the common weal? Where is this man? who is he? how know you him? These reckeninges of such receipt and payments are stricken out of my books I know what I own too every man. Too so●me I make payment after long time, too other some I give aforehand: or else I deal with them according as occasion and the ability of my substance will bear.   

¶ The xxxiii Chapter.  
THe● shall I now, and then bestow 〈…〉 ●●●hankfull, but not for his own 〈…〉 (saith he) what if you know 〈◊〉 whither he be thankful or unthankful? Will you tarry till you may know? Or will you not let slip your time of benefiting? You may ●ary too long. For (as Plato saith) it is hard too conjecture ● man's mind. And not too tarry is a point of rashness. Hereunto I answer: That we never tarry for the exact bo●ltyng out of things, because the trial of truth is far of: but we proceed by that way, which likelihod of truth leadeth. This is the path that all duties trace. So do we sow, so do we sail, so go we on warfare, so marry we wives, so bring we up children: and yet the falling out of them all is uncertain. We adventure upon those things whereof we think there is good hope. For who can warrane increase too him that soweth, a haven to him that saileth, victory to him that g●eth awarfare, a chaste wife to him tha● marrieth, or godly children too the Father? We follow that way which reason draweth, and not that way which truth draweth. Stand linger and do nothing, till thou be sure of the success, or meddle thou with nothing till thou be assured of the truth▪ and then shal● tho● do● nothing at all, thy life is at a stay. So long as likelihoods of truth, may move me too this or that, I will not shrink too do a good turn, to such a one as is likely too be thankful.   

The xxxiiii Chapter.  
MAny things (sayest thou) will step in, where through an evil man may creep up for a good, and a good man be misliked for an evil. For the appearances of things that we trust too, are deceitful.  
Who says nay too that? But I find none other thing whereby too direct my meening. By these footsteps must I pursue the truth. Certeiner means I have none. I will do the best I can too weigh them thoroughly, and I will not be hasty in yielding too them. For it may so happen in battle, that my hand being misguided by some mistaking, may thrust at mine own fellow, and spare mine enemy as if he were my friend. But it shall seldom happen so, and not through mine own fault, who am purposed too strike mine enemy, and too defend my countryman. If I may know him too be thankless, I will cast away no benefit upon him. But what if he have krept in upon me and beguiled me? In this case I am not too blame for my bestowing, because I have done it as too a thankful person.  
If thou have promised one a good turn (sayeth he) and afterward understand him too be thankless, wilt thou perform it or no? If thou perform it wittingly: thou offendest: for thou dost it too whom thou oughtest not. And if thou refuse too do it, thou offendest that way also, because thou performest not thy promise. Thus your conscience staggereth in this behalf, and so faileth that proud brag of yours, that a wiseman never repenteth him of his doing, nor never repealeth that which he hath done, nor altereth his determination.  
A wise man altereth not his determination, so be it that all things continue as they were at the time of his determining. And therefore he is never touched with repentance, because at that time no better thing could have been done than was done, nor better thing have been determined than was determined. Nevertheless, his adventuring upon all things is with exception, if nothing betide that may be a let. And therefore we● say that all things fall out well unto him, and that nothing happeneth contrary too his opinion: because he for●●asteth in his mind, that somewhat may step in by the way 〈◊〉 hinder his determinations. It is a fond presumption too assure one's self of Fortune. But a wiseman bethinketh him of both her parts. He knoweth what sway error beareth, how uncertain worldly things be, and how many things may withstand men's determinations. Too the doubtful and slippery lo●●e of things he proceedeth with suspense, and too the uncertain fallings out of them he proceedeth with certain advisedness. And so his exception, (without which he determineth not any thing, ne enterpryseth any thing) defendeth him in this cas● also.   

¶ The xxxv Chapter.  
I have promised a good turn, so there happen nothing why I should not perform it. For what if my country forbidden me to perform that whic● I have promised him? What if a law be made that noman shall do the thing▪ that I had promised too do for my friend? Put the 〈◊〉 I have promised thee my daughter in marriage, & afterward it falls out that thou art a stranger borne, and I may not ally myself with a foreigner. The ●ame thing defendeth me which forbiddeth me. Then let me be counted a promis●reaker, then let me be blamed of unconstancy, if all things continuing the same they were at any promismaking, I be not full as good as my word. Otherwise, whatsoever is altered, sets me free too take deliberation new again, and dischargeth me of discredit. I promise you too be your advocate: and afterward it appeareth that the same case tendeth too the prejudice of my Father: I promise to go a journey with you, and woo●d is brought m●e that the way is laid with thiefs: I should have come too some present business of yours, but my ●●ildes ●●●●nesse ●r my wives labour keep me at home. If ye will bind the credit of him that promiseth: all things must continue in the same state as they were at the promismaking. But what greater alteration can there be, than if I have found thee an evil and unthankful man? Look what I promised thee as too a worthy, that will I withhold from thee as from an unworthy; yea and I shall have good cause too be angry with thee for deceiving me.   

¶ The xxxvi Chapter.  
Nevertheless, I will look upon the thing that thou claymest, and see how great it is. The manner of the thing promised shall counsel me. If it be but a small thing, I will let thee have it, not because thou art worthy, but for my promise sake. And yet will I not do it as too pleasure thee, but as too redeem my word, and I will wring myself by the Eare. My rashness in promising, I will punish with my loss. Lo, (say I too myself) too the intent it may grieve thee, and that thou mayst be better advised ere ●hou speak hereafter, I will give thee a barnacle as we ●erme it. But if it be too great a thing, I will not be so costly (as Maecenas sayeth) as too buy mine own blame with a hundred Sesterti●sses. 
That is CC. 〈◊〉 of our M●n●ye.  For I will compare the odds of both together. It is somewhat worth too be as good as a man's promise; & again it is much worth not too be too precise in pleasuring an unworthy person. So great a matter as this must be considered accordingly. If it be a light thing, we● may wink at it. But if it may be either greatly too my loss, or greatly to my shame; I had liefer blame myself once for denying it, than continually for performing it. All the whole w●ight of the matter re●teth (I say) upon this point: namely, at how much I am worthy too be amerced for my words. For if it he much, I shall not only withhold the thing that I promised rashly; but also I shall call that bark again which I have bestowed amiss. He is out of his wits, which performeth for his error sake.   

¶ The xxxvii Chapter.  
PHilip King of Macidonie had a tall soldier, and a stout man of his hands, whose service he had found profitable in many voyages. He had diverse times rewarded him with part of the booties for his hardiness. And because he was a man that had his soul too sell, he evermore kindled his courage with often pays.  
This man suffering shipwreck, was cast a land on the manor of a certain Macedonian. Who having word thereof, came running to him out of hand, and recovering life of him, conveyed him home too his said manor, and laid him in his own bed, refreshed him ill at ease and half dead, tended him thirty days at his own charges, recovered him, and at his departure gave him wherewith too bear his charges by the way. And the other said oftentimes unto him, I will requite thy kindness, if ever I may come where I may see my King and Capitein. He told Philip of his shipwreck, but he spoke not a word of his succour, but by and by desired him too give him a certain man's lands. The man was even he that had been his host, even he that had taken him up, and recovered him. Ye may see by the way, how Kings now and then (and specially in war) give many things with their eyes shut. One just man is not of power enough against so many armed lusts. A man cannot do the duties of a good man, and of a good Capitein both at once. How shall so many thousands of unsatiable men be satisfied? What should they have, if every man may keep his own? So did Philip say too himself, when he gave commandment, for the putting of him in possession of the goods that he had craved. The man that was violently thrust from his possessions, did not put up the wrong with silence like a cloyne, and hold him well appaied that he himself had not been given away to●: But wrote a letter unto Philip, both rough and full of liberty. At the receipt whereof, Philip was in such a chafe, that without delay, he commanded Pausanias too restore the first owner to his goods again: and too imprint upon that lewd soldier, that unkind guest, and that covetous seabeaten wretch, such marks as might witness him too be an unthankful guest. Believe me, he that could find in his heart, too strip his host out of all that ever he had, and too drive him like one that had suffered shipwreck, too the same shore where he himself had lain; was worthy too have had those Letters, not Imprinted, but engraven upon his face. But let us see what measure had been too be kept in his punishment. In deed, the thing that he had most wickedly intruded upon, was too be taken from him again. And who would have been sorry for the punishment of him, whose fact was so heinous, as no man could have pitied him, had he been never so pitiful?   

¶ The xxxviii Chapter.  
Must Philip be as good t●o thee as his promise? Even though there be cause too the contrary? Though he should do wrong? Though he should do a wicked deed? Though by that one fact of his, he should bar all Shipwreckes from the shore? It is no point of lightness for a man to forsake a known and condemned error. ● man ought rather too confess plainly and too say, I miss●●●●ke the ca●e, I am deceived. For it is a point of wilful pride and folly, too be so heady as too say, look what I have once spoken, be what it be may, I will abide by ●t, and make good my word. It is no dishonesty too alter a man's mind, ●hen the matter requireth. Go too, if Philip had maintained the S●●ldier i● possession of those grounds, which he had gotten by his Shipwr●cke: had he not barred all out cast●s from succour and relief? Nay (saith Philip) yet were it better that thou shouldest bear about these Letters printed in thy most shameless forehead, for all men to gaze upon, throughout the bounds of my kingdom. Show thou how sacred a thing the table of hospitality is. Let every man ●eade this d●erée of mine in thy face, for a wa●●āt y● it shall not be prejudicial for any man too secure afflicted persons in his house. So shall this constitution of mine be more available, than if I had engraved it in brass.   

¶ The xxxix Chapter.  
WHat think you ●hen (sayeth he) by our founder Zeno? for whereas he had promised too lend one five hundred pence, and afterward found him too be scarce a meet man: Yet contrary too the persuasion of his fréedes, he preserved in trusting him for love of his promise. First the case is otherwise in a credit, than in a benefit. If I lend money amiss, I may call ferret ag●●●e, and I may arre●● my debtor at his day. And if he driue●e● too ●ewe him, I shall recover part. But asfor a 〈…〉 too have ●●●dited him▪ if the 〈…〉 but five hundred pe●ce. O●e sickness 〈…〉 as men are wont too say. It was not worth the revoking of a man's promise. If I promise a 〈…〉 will go though i● be cold, but not if it 〈◊〉. I will 〈…〉 wedding, for my pr●●is sake, though I have 〈…〉 my mea●e: but not if I have a fit of an 〈…〉 will come too give my wo●rd f●r thee because I have promised▪ but not if thou wouldst make me give my word upon uncertainty, or bind me too the forfeiture ●f all that I 〈…〉 〈…〉 lawful. If things must be performed: set the matter in the same state when thou demandest, that it was in when I promised, and have with thee. But it can be no point of lighte●esse too disappoint one, If there happen any alteration by the way. For why shouldest thou think it strange, that a man should alter his determination, when the state of the promiser is altered? Make me all things too be the same that they were: and I am the same man that I was. We bind ourselves too appear at a day, and appear not: Yet shall not the forfeit be taken in all caces. A greater extremity shall excuse the default of appeeraunce.   

The xl Chapter.  
THE same may serve thee for a full answer too thy said question, whither kindness be too be requited in any wise, or whither a good t●rne ●ee evermore too be performed. I am 〈◊〉 too yield a thankful heart: but as for too rehayte, sometime mine own vnfortunat●esse, and sometime his fortunat●esse too whom I am indebted, will not suffer me. For what recompense can I make too a King, or too a Prince, or too a great rich man? specially seeing that some are of that nature, that they think they have wrong, if they receive a good turn at another man's hand: and they are always loading of men with benefits one upon another. What help have I against such persons, more than too be willing? For I may not therefore refuse his new benefits, because I have not requited the old. I will take it with as good a will as it is offered, and I will yield myself too my friend as a mou●d of large receit, fit for him too work his goodness in. He that is loath too receive anew, is sorry that he hath received already.  
I requite not. What is that too the matter? If I want either occasion or ability, that lack is not in me. But he performed v●to meeward. I grant it, and he had both occasion and ability too do it, Whither is he a good man, or a bad? With a good man my case is good enough: with a bad man I will not plead. Truly I think not that we ought too be so eager, as too requite in post haste, whither men will or no, or too press upon them when they refuse. It is no requiting of kindness, too render that thing against a man's will, which thou receiveddest with his will. some men when they be presented with some small gift, send another by and by again out of season, and say they own him nought. This sending of an other out of hand again, and this driving of one present out of doors with another, is a kind of rejecting. Sometime I shall not requite a good turn though I can. When is that? when I shall more hinder myself by it than profit him. When he shall feel himself nothing amended by receiving it, and I shall feel myself greatly impaired by foregoing it. Wherefore, he that hasteth too requite, hath not the heart of a thankful person, but of a good debtor. And too conclude in few words he that desireth too discharge himself too hastily, is loath too own, and he that is loath too owe is unthankful.  
The end of the fourth book.    

❧ The fifth book of Lucius Annaeus Seneca, concerning benefits.  

¶ The first chapter.  
I May well seem too have accomplished my purpose already in my former books, forasmucheas I have showed after what manner a good turn is too be done, and after what manner it is too be taken. For those are the ends of that duty. Whatsoever I tarry upon further, is not of necessity, but for the wellyking of the matter: which must be followed so far as it leadeth, but not so far as it allureth. For there will continually rise some one thing or other, which may entice the mind with some sweetness, rather unsuperfluouse than necessary. Nevertheless sith you will have it so: now that we have dispatched the things that contained the pith: let us also go forward in searching the things y● are as appurtnances to them, but not parcel of them; which whoso considereth diligently, neither doth a thing full worth his labour, nor yet loseth his labour. But unto thee my Ebutius Liberalis, who art of a singular good nature and forward too benefyting, no commendation of it can suffice. Never yet saw I any man that was s● friendly an esteemer of good turns, were they never so small. Yea and so far is thy goodness proceeded, that whatsoever good turn is done too any man, thou accountest it done too thyself. And because noman should repent him of his weldooiing, thou art ready too make recompense for the unthanfull: and thou art so far from all bragging, and so desirous out of ●and too unburden those whom thou bindest unto thee, that whatsoever thou bestowest upon any man, thou wouldst seem, not too perform it, but too pay it. And therefore the things that thou bestowest so, return too thee more plenteously, For commonly good turns pursue him that d●●h not challenged them. And like as glory followeth more and more after such as flee from it: so the fruit of gooddooing redoundeth more thankfully, too such as give men lea●e too be thankless if they list. verily there is no let in thee, but that such as have received good turns, may freely call for new: and thou wilt not refuse too bestow more upon them: but rather suppressing and dissembling the former, thou addest more and grea●er. It is the point of a singular good nature and of a very noble mind, too bear with a thankless person, so long till he have made him thankful. Neither doth this reckoning de●eyue thee. For Uyces sink down under virtues, if a man make not too much haste too hate them over soon.   

¶ The. second. Chapter.  
THou haste a singular liking of this saying, as most princely, That it is a shame too be overcomed in doing good. Which saying▪ whither it be true or no, there is good reason too demand: for it is a ●arre other thing than thou weenest. It is no shame at all too be overcome in the encounter of honest things, so thou have a desire too vanquish even whe● thou art overcomed, and cast not away thy weapons. All men bring not like strength too a good enterprise, nor like ability, nor like fortune, which alonely ordereth the success, even of the best determinations. The will of him that endeavoureth aright is too be commended, although another man have outgone him by swiftness of pace. It is not in this case as it is in wagers that are made at Gaminges, where the victory showeth who is best▪ 〈◊〉 that in those also, cha●●ce ●ooth oftentimes prefer the worser▪ For whereas the matter standeth upon freend●inesse, which either party coue●eth too have performed too the full: Although the one be of better ability, and have sufficient at hand wherewith too work his will, so as fortune giveth him leave too do what he li●●eth▪ If the other have as good will as he, though he yield 〈◊〉 things than he received, yea or requyteth not all, but is willing 〈…〉 requite, and is full bend thereunto with his whole heart: He is no more overcome, than he that dieth fighting, whom his enemy may ●a●●yer kill, than make him turn head. That which thou countest shameful, cannot happen too a good man, that is too say, that he should be overcome. For he never shrinketh, he never giveth over, he stands upon his guard too the last day of his life, and he will die on his ground that he hath taken too defend, acknowledging himself too have received great things, and showing himself desirous too have rendered the like.   

¶ The iii Chapter.  
THe Lacedæmonians forbade any of theirs too contend in Pancracie or in buffeting with bags, where the confession of the party showeth who is overcome. The ronner that cometh first too the races end, hath outgone his Marrow in footema●ship, but not in mind. The wrestler that is cast three times, hath lost the wager▪ but not yielded the wager. Because the Lacedæmonians made great account of it too have their Countrymen unvanquished: they ●arred them from all Wagers wherein the 〈…〉 his heart. The case is all one in good turns. What though a man have received greater things and oftener? Yet is he not overcome. Peradventure his benefits are overmatched with benefits, in respect of the things that are given and received. But if ye compare the giver with the receiver, whose minds also must be considered apart by themselves: neither of them both shall have won the upperhand. For it is wont too come too pass, that when some man is mangled with many wounds, and his adversary is but lightly hurt: they be say● too have gone away of even hand, though the one ●f them may seem too have gone by the worse.   

¶ The four Chapter.  
ERGO no man can be overcome in benefiting. That man knoweth how too be beholden, which is willing too requite, and supplieth the thing with his heart, which he cannot do with his goods. So long as he holdeth at that stay, and so long as he concineweth in this mind, he ratifieth his thankful heart by signs. What skills it on whither part more gifts can be reckoned? Thou art able too give many things, and I am able only too take. Good fortune is on thy side, and good will is on mine. And yet for all that, I am as able too match thee, as a few naked or light armed men are able too match many armed too the proof. Therefore no man needs too be overcome in good turns: because he may be as thankful as he listeth. For if it be a shame too be 〈…〉 There be some that are withdrawn without the compass of covetousness, and are scarcely touched with any worldly desires▪ whom Fortune herself is not able to pleasure at all. I must needs be overcome by Socrates in benefits. I must needs be overcome by Diogenes, who walked naked through the mids of the wealth of the Macedonians, trampling the kings riches under his feet. Might not he then whorthely have seemed, (both too himself and too all others, whose eyes were not too dim too espy out the truth) too surmount him that had all things under him? Truly he was much mightier and richer than Alexander, who at that time was Lord of all the world. For there was more that Diogenes would not take, than there was that Alexander was able too give.   

¶ T .v. Chapter.  
IT is no shame too be overcome by such. For neither am I the worse man of my hands, though ye match me with an enemy that cannot be wounded: neither hath fire the less nature of burning, though it light upon some stuff that cannot be hurt by fire: neither hath an edge-tool therefore lost his property of cutting, because it is put too the clyving of some stone that is overhard and of nature invincible against the edge of things. The same thing do I answer you for a thankful person. It is no shame for him too be overcome in benefiting, if he be bound too such men, as the greatness of their state, or the prerogative of their virtue, stoppeth up the way that benefits should return by. Commonly we be overcome by our parents. For as long as we deem them grievous unto us, and as long as we want discretion too consider their benefits: so long do we mislike them. But assoon as age hath gathered some discretion, and it begins too appear, that they deserved. Love at our hands for the same things for which we misliked them, ●amely for their admonishementes, for their straightness, and for their diligent bridling of our undiscreet youth: then are we ravished with the love of them. Few have lived so long, as to reap the true fruit of their children. The rest have felt their children but in burthenwise. Yet is it no shame too be outgone by a man's parents in benefiting. And why should it not be no shame at all, seeing it is no shame too be overgone by any man? For some there be too whom we be both matches, and no matches. Matches in mind, which is the only thing that they seek; and the only thing that we promise: and no matches in ability, whereby though we be hindered too requite, yet must we n●t therefore be ashamed, as though we were quite overcome. It is no shame not too overtake, ●o a man pursue still. Oftentimes we be driven too require new benefits, before we have requited the old. Neither do we therefore leave craving, or crave too our shame, because we run further in debt, being unable too requite. For we would feign be thankful if we might: But there steppeth in some foreign thing by the way, which letteth us. Yet shall we not be overmatched in heart, neither shall it redound too our shame, too be overmatched in such things as are not in our own power.   

¶ The vi Chapter.  
ALexander King of Macedon was won● too boast, that never man overmatched him in benefits. There was no cause, why he being over high minded, should regard the Macedones▪ greckes, carrions, Persians, and other Nations, whom he himself had distressed, and left without force. But least he should think that his kingdoms (which stretched from the corner of Thrace, too the shore of the v●knowen sea) had given him that prerogative: Socrates might boast in that behalf as well as he, and so might Diogenes too, who overmatched him. For why should he not be thought too be overmatched tha● day, when he swelling above the measure of worldly Pride, saw one whom he could neither give any thing too, nor take any thing from: King Archelaus requested Socrates to come unto him: and it was reported that Socrates should answer, he was loath too come too such a one, as at whose hands he should receive freendshippes, seeing he could not requite the like again. For it was in Socrates' power not too receive: and secondly, he himself began first to show friendship. For he came at his request, and gave him that thing, which he doubtless could never give Socrates again. For whereas Archelaus should give gold and silver: he was too receive the contempt of gold and silver. Can not Socrates then have requited the kindness of Archelaus? What thing could he have received so great as he had given, if he had showed him the knowledge of life and death, and thoroughly taught him the ends of them both? Or if he had made the King acquainted with the ●ature of things, who went astray in the open light, and was so ignorant, that on a day when the sun was eclipsed he shut in his Court gates, and polled his sons head, (as men are wont too do in mourning and adversity): How great a benefit had it been, if he had drawn him out of his lurking hole, and willed him too pluck up a good heart, saying? This is no failing of the sun, but a meeting of the two planets, wherein the moon running the lower way, hath put her Circle directly under the sun, and hidden him by setting herself between him and us. sometime hiding a small part of him, if she coat him lightly in her passing by: and sometime covering more, if she bear more fully upon him: and sometime hiding him whole out of sight, if she got full underneath him, betwixt him and the earth. But anon the swiftness of these planets will carry them a sunder, one onewaye and another another way: anon the earth shall recover her wont light; and this order shall continue for ever. They have their days certain and foretold, wherein the sun is hindered too show forth the fullness of his rays, by reason of the coming in of the moon. Tarry awhile, and he will forsake as it were this cloudiness, and strait ways he shallbe rid of all impediments, and he will give forth his wont light freely again. Can not Socrates have done as much for Archelaus, as Archelaus should have done for him? What if he had taught him how too reign? As little as you make of it, it had been so great a benefice, as he could have given Socrates none like it. Wherefore then did Socrates say so? Being a pleasant conceited man, and wont too utter his mind in figurative speeches, and a jester with all men (but specially with great men) he thought rather too say him nay cunningly, than stoutly and proudly. He said he would receive no benefits at such a man's hand, as he could not render him the like. Perchance he feared lest he might have been compelled too take things that he would not. some will say if he would not, he might have refused. But than should he have provoked the kings displeasure, who was haughty, and would have all things highly esteemed which came from him. It is all one with Kings, whither you will give them nothing, or take nothing of them. Either of the gainsaiynges are too them alike. And too a proud Prince, it is a greater corzie too be does dayned, than not too be feared. Wilt thou know what Socrates was so loath of? He whose freeness a free city could not away with, was loath too go into wilful bondage.   

¶ The vii Chapter.  
AS I suppose, we have sufficiently discussed this point, whither it be a shame too be overcome in benefiting. Which question whoso demandeth, knoweth that men are not wont too bestow benefits upon themselves. For it had been manifest, that it is no shame for a man too be vanquished of himself. Notwithstanding, among some stoics it is also debated, whither a man can benefit himself, and whither he ought too requite himself with thankfulness. The causes why this seemed a question too be moved, were these. We are wont too say, I may thank myself, I can complain of noman but myself, I am angry with myself, I will punish myself, and I hate myself. And many such other things do we say▪ wherein ●che man speaketh of himself as of another. If I can hurt myself (sayeth he) why can I not also do myself a good turn? again, why should not the things be called benefits when I bestow them upon myself, which should be called so if I bestowed them upon anotherman? why should I not be beholding too myself for giving too myself, as well as be beholding too anotherman for receiving at his hand? why should I be unthankful too myself, which is no less shame than too be niggardly too myself, or than too be hard and cruel too mysef, or to be careless of myself. A bawd is defamed as well for his own body as for another's. verily a Flatterer and a soother of other men's words, and such a one as is ready too justify untruths, is blameworthy. And no less is he too be blamed, which standeth in his own conceit, and hath an overweening of himself, and (as a man might term him) is a self-flatterer. Uices are hateful, not only when they prejudice others, but also when they redound unto men's own selves. Whom will ye more commend, than him that overmaystereth himself, and hath himself at his own commandment? It is easier too overrule the barbarous nations that cannot abide too have their heads under another man's girdle, than too bridle a man's own affections, & too make obedient than too himself. Plato (sayeth he) thanketh Socrates for that which he learned at his hand: and why should not Socrates thank himself for teaching himself? Marcus Cato sayeth: That which thou wantest, borrow of thyself. And if I can lend too myself, why should I not give too myself? Innumerable are the things wherein custom divideth us. we be wont too say let me alone, I will talk with myself, and I will twitch myself by the Eare. If these things be true: then like as a man may be angry with himself: so may he also thank himself. Like as he may rebuke himself, so may he also praise himself. Like as he may hinder himself, so may he also further himself. For an ill turn and a good turn are contraries. If we may say, he ●ath done himself harm: we may also say he hath done himself good. By nature (sayest thou) he hath done it. Nature requireth that a man should first owe before he can requite. A debtor is not without a Creditor, no more than a huseband is without a wife, or a father without a child.   

¶ The viii Chapter.  
TOO the intent there may be a receiver, there must first be a giver. Too convey out of the left hand into the right, is neither giving nor receiving. Like as noman carrieth himself although he move and remove his body from place too place: Like as noman is counted his own advocate, though he have pleaded his own case: Like as noman sets up an Image too himself as his own founder: and like as a sick man demandeth n●t reward of himself for recovering himself by his own cunning: So in all other matters, although a man have done never so well, yet can he not requite his own kindness, because he hath not towards whom too requite it. But admit that it be a bestowing of a good turn, when a man is both the giver and receiver thereof himself. And admit it be a receiving of a good turn, when he is both the taker and the giver. The return (as men term it) is made at his own door, and it passeth away forthwith, as a name of dalliance. For he that giveth is none other than he that receiveth, but they be both one. This word own hath no place, but between two several parties. How then continueth not he still in one, which dischargeth himself by binding himself? Even as in a bowl or a Ball nothing is nethermost, nothing is uppermost, nothing last, nor nothing first, because the order of it is shifted by moving, so as the things go before that came behind, and the things come up that went down, and all things, howsoever they go, return into one: even so must thou think it falls out in man. change thou him into neverso many things, and yet is he the same party still. He hath beaten himself: he hath no man too sew for doing him wrong. He hath tied or shut up himself: he can have no action of false imprisonment. He hath done himself a good turn: he requited it even with the doing of it. The nature of the thing cannot be said too have foregone aught, because that whatsoever is plucked from it, returneth into it again: neither can any thing be lost, which hath not whereoutof too pass, but windeth back again into whence it came. What likeness (sayeth he) hath this example too the question propounded? I will tell thee. Put the case thou be unthankful too thyself: yet is not this good turn lost: for the bestower of it hath it still. Put the case thou wilt not receive it: thou hast it with thee before it be delivered thee. Thou canst not forego aught: for whatsoever is taken from thee, is gotten to thee. The wheel is turned within thyself: In ta●ing, thou gi●est, & in giving, thou takest.   

¶ The ix Chapter.  
A Man (sayeth he) must do himself a good turn, ergo he must also requite it. The Antecedent is false, whereupon the consequent hangeth. For noman doth good turns too himself: but he followeth his own Nature, which hath framed him to● a certain self-love, by means whereof he hath a singular regard too eschew things hurtful, and too seek after things that may do him good. Therefore, neither is he liberal that giveth too himself, nor merciful that forgiveth himself, nor pitiful that rueth his own miseries. That which were liberality, mercy, and pity, if it were done too another man: is but nature, being done too a man's self.  
A good turn is a free thing: but too do good too ones self, is of natural necessity. The more good turns a man doth, the more 〈◊〉 is he. But who was ever praised for helping himself or for defending himself from robbers? Noman bestoweth a benefit upon himself, no more than he bestoweth entertainment upon himself. Noman giveth too himself, no more than he dareth too himself. If a man befriend himself: he doth it always and without ceasing. He cannot keep a just reckoning of his freendships: and how shall he then requite them, sith that by his requiring, he benefiteth himself again? for how should a man discern, whither he do himself a good turn or requite one, seeing the matter is wrought all in one person? I have delivered myself out of some danger: have I now bestowed a benefit upon myself? I deliver myself again from danger: now whither do I bestow or requite? Moreover, although I should grant thee the first part: namely that we bestow benefits upon ourselves: Yet will I not grant thee that which followeth. For althouge we bestow, yet do we not owe. Whyso? Because we receive again out of hand. In benefiting, it behoveth us, first too receive, than too own, and afterward too requite. But here is no time of owing, inasmuch as we receive again without tarriance. There is no giving, but too another man: there is no requiring, but too anotherman. This thing which so oftentimes requireth two properties, is not possible too be done still in one.   

¶ The ten Chapter.  
TOO have done a thing too a man's behoof, is a benefit. Yea, so the word do, have respect too an other man. For wilnot men think him too he out of his wits, that shall say he hath sold a thing too himself? For selling is an alienatio of a thing that is a man's own, and a conveying over of his right in the same too another man. And like as too sell, so also too give, is too pass away a thing from thyself, and too make anotherman owner of that which was thine afore. Now if benefiting be of the same fort: then can 〈◊〉 benefit himself, because noman can give aught to himself. For than should two contraries close in one; so as giving and taking should be all one thing. But there is great difference betwixt giving and taking. And good cause why: considering how those words are matched fullbutte one against another. I said a little afore, how some words have relation too otherfolkes, and are of such nature, that the whole signification of them departeth from ourselves. I am a brother, howbeit too anotherman: for noman is brother too himself. I am a peer; but too anotherman: for noman is peer too himself. The thing that is compared, is not understood without his match: and the thing that is coupled is not without a fellow. So also, the thing that is given, is not without a receiver: neither is a benefit without another too be benefited by it. The same thing appeareth by the very term wherein this benefiting is contained. But noman benefiteth himself, no more than he favoureth himself or taketh part with himself. We may prosecute this matter yet longer and with more examples. And why not? Sigh a benefit is to be counted in the number of those things which require a second party. Some things, though they be honest, very goodly, and right excellently virtuous: yet have they not their effect, but in a copartner. Faithfulness is commended and honoured for one of the greatest things belonging too mankind. And yet, is any man said too have been faithful or to have kept promise with himself?   

¶ The xi Chapter.  
NOw come I too the last part. He that requytes a good turn, must forego somewhat, like as he doth that payeth money. But he foregoeth nothing, which rendereth too himself: no more than he gaineth, which receiveth of himself, Benefyting, and requiting must pass too and fro: but within one man there is no intercourse. He that requiseth most pleasure the party that had pleasured him afore. He that requyteth too himself, whom pleasureth he? Himself. But what man looks not for the requital of a benefit onewhere, and for the benefit itself anotherwhere? He that requites too himself, pleasureth himself. And where was there ever so rank a carl that would not do that? Yea rather, who hath not played the carl, too do that? If we may thank ourselves (saith he), we may also requite kindness to ourselves. We say, I thank myself that I took not such a woman too wife, and that I entered no fellowship with such a man. In so saying we praise ourselves, and for the better allowing of our fact, we abuse the words of thanksgiving. That is a benefit, which is at liberty not too be received, even when it is in performing: But he that bestowed a benefit upon himself cannot but receive his own proffer: Ergo it is no benefit. A benefit is received at one time, and requited at another. And in benefiting, the thing that is most allowable, the thing that is most commendable, is that a man forgetteth his own profit too do anotherman good, and taketh from himself to give to anotherman. But so doth not he that benefiteth himself. Benefiting is a fellowlike thing: it purchaseth favour: it maketh men beholden. But in giving too a man's self there is no fellowship at all, there is noman's favour purchased, it maketh noman beholding, it encourageth noman too say, This man deserveth too be much made of, he hath done such a man a good turn, and he will do me one too. That is a benefit, which a man giveth not for his own sake, but for the party's sake to whom he giveth it. But he that doth himself a good turn, doth it for his own sake: Ergo it is no benefit.   

The xii Chapter.  
SEemeth it now unto thee, too be untrue which I said at the beginning? Thou sayest I am quite gone from doing that which is worth my labour, or rather that I lose all my labour in good sadness. Give me leave a little, and thou shalt have yet better cause too say so, when I shall have brought thee too such 〈◊〉▪ as when thou art scaped out of them, thou shalt have gained no more by it, but that thou mayst wind thee out of such narrow points, as thou needest not too have come into, except thou hadst listed. For too what purpose is it too buzie a mannesself, in untying the knots which he himself made too untie? But like as some are so twisted toogither for pleasure and pastime. as an unskilful body shall hardly unknit them: and yet he that twisted them vndooeth them with ease, because he knoweth the braids and lets of them, which notwithstanding have some pleasure in them, (for they try the sharpness of men's wits, and make them too take heed): even so, these things which seem su●tle and captious, do rid men's minds from security, dullness, and Sloth: and therefore the field wherein they walk, must now and then he strewed with such things, and some harshness and roughness must erewhiles be cast in their way, so as they may but even creep out, and take the better heed where they set their foot. It is said, that noman is unthankful: and that is gathered thus. A benefit is that which profiteth: but as you stoics uphold, noman can profit an evil man: Ergo an unthankful man taketh no benefit: and so consequently he is not unthankful. Age in, a benefit is an honest and allowable thing: but an honest and allowable thing cannot be fastened upon an evil man: neither then can a benefit be fastened upon an evil man. But, if he cannot receive it, than ought he not too requite it: and so is he not unthankful. On the other fade, (as you say) a good man doth allthings aright: But if he do all things aright, then can he not be unthankful: Ergo inasmuch as a good man requireth, and an evil man taketh not: it followeth that there is neither good man nor evil man unthankful: and so, unthankful and thankless are but waste terms among men, and utterly without signification.  
There is but one good thing among us, and that is honesty. This cannot light upon an evil man. For he ceaseth too be evil, assoon as virtue entereth into him. But as long as he is evil, noman can fasten a good turn upon him, because good things and evil things are at discord among themselves, and cannot close in one. The same also is the reason why noman can profit him, because that whatsoever cometh too him, he marreth it by abusing it. For like as the stomach that is infected with sickness and accloyed with choler, changeth all the meats that it receiveth, and turneth all food into the nourishment of his disease: even so a blinded mind, whatsoever you commit unto it, maketh it a burden, a mischief, and an occasion of misery unto itself. But the greater prosperity and wealth that evil men have, the more is their excess of outrage: and they feel themselves so much the less, as they have lighted into greater matter wherein too float: Ergo nothing can come too evil men, which should do them good: or rather, nothing can come at them that shall not do them hurt. For whatsoever befalls them, they change it into their own nature: and the things that of themselves should be very goodly and profitable if they were bestowed upon a good man, are unto them right noisome. Therefore, neither can they do a good turn (for noman can do that which is not in him too do) neither have they any will too do good.   

¶ The xiii Chapter.  
WEll, though these things were as you say; Yet may an evil man receive things like unto benefits, for the not requiting whereof he shallbe unthankful. There be goods of the mind, goods of the body, and goods of fortune. The goods of the mind are barred from a fool and an evil man. But he is admitted too the goods of fortune, and he is able too receive them, and bound too requite them: and if he requite not, he is unthankful. And this is not our constitution only. For the Peripatetikes (who give very large and wide scope too man's felicity) say that the smaller sort of benefits do befall unto evil men also. Now he that requyteth not those, is unthankful. But we like not that those things should be called benefits, whereby the mind fareth not the better. Howbeit we deny not that they be commodities: and we deny not but they be too be coveted. These be the things that an evil man may both give too a good man and take of a good man: as money raiment, promotions, & life. Which if he requite not, he falleth into the blame of an unthankful person.  
But how can you call him unthankful, for not requiting of that which you say is no benefit?  
Some things, although they be not the true things themselves: Yet are comprehended under the same term, by reason of their likeness unto them. So term we Scalop shells though they be made of silver or gold. So term we him unlearned, not only which is altogether without learning, but also which hath not attained too some deep knowledge. So a man that hath seen one thinclothed and altoo ragged, says he hath seen a naked man. After the same manner, these things are no benefits, but yet they bear the countenance of benefits.  
Then like as these be as it were benefits, and not benefits in deed: so is he as it were unthankful, and not unthankful in deed.  
That is false, because that as well he that receiveth them as he that giveth them, do both account them as benefits.  
And therefore as much is he unthankful, which deceiveth under pretence of taking a true benefit: as he is poisoner which giveth a man Poyzon, in stead of good jewce.   

¶ The xiiii Chapter.  
Cleanthes' dealeth yet more rigorously. Although (sayeth he) it be no benefit, which he receiveth: yet is he unthankful, because he would not have requited, though it had been one. So also is a man a murderer, before he have stained his hands: because he is already armed, and fully purposed too rob and slay. The very deed doth put his naughtiness in execution, and discloze it, but not begin it. The thing that he received, was not a good turn, but was so termed. Churchtraytors are punished though none of them can lay hand upon the gods.  
But how (sayeth he) can any body be unthankful towards an evil man, seeing that a benefit cannot be fastened upon an evil man? verily in this respect, that he hath received of him, some of the things that go for good among the unskilful: and therefore evil though he be, yet must he be thankful towards him with some like thing: and seeing he took them for good, he must requite them for good, whatsoever they be. They are said too have borrowed money, both he that oweth gold, and also he that oweth leather coined with the common stamp, such as was among the Lacedæmonians, because it serveth the turn of currant money. Look in what kind of thing thou art bound, in the same kind discharge thou thy credit.   

¶ The xu Chapter.  
WHat thing benefits be, and whither the majesty of that noble name ought too be plucked down too this vile and base gear, it skills not you, it is demanded for other folks sakes. Settle you your minds upon the outward show of the truth, and when ye speak of honesty, whatsoever it be that is bruited by the name of honest, that hold you yourselves unto.  
As by you (sayeth he) noman is thankless: so again by you all men are thankless. For you hold opinion that all evil men are fools: and he that hath one vice hath all vices: and so are all men fools forasmuch as all are evil: Ergo all men are unthankful. Now what then? Doth not the reproach light universally upon all mankind? Is it not a common complaint, that good turns are lost, and that there be very feave, which requite not evil too such as have deserved well? There is no cause why ye should think this too be the grudge of us only: and that we alone do think all things are enil and starke-naught that fall not out even and just with the Rule of right. Behold, I wots not what a voice, (not sent out of the house of the Philosophers, but out of the mids of the common multitude) condemning whole Peoples and nations, kryeth out.  
The Guest may scarcely trust his host, nor yet the host his Guest:  
Nor father's well their soninlawes. Yea seldom times doth rest  
Between borne brothers such accord as brothers ought to have.  
The man would bring his wife, the wife her husband too his grave.  
This is more than I spoke of. Benefits are turned into Banes, and the blood is not spared of those for whom blood ought too be spent. We persecute benefits with Sword & poisoning. Too rebel against a man's own country, & too oppress it with her own Sword, is now reputed for puissance and worthiness. He that hath not mounted above the common weal, thinks himself too stand very lowelike an underling. The armies received of her, are turned too her confusion, and it is become a Capteinly exhortation too say: Sirs, fight against your Wines, fight against your Children, make assault upon your own Churches, your houses, & your gods. You that ought not too have entered into the city, 〈◊〉 not even: to a triumph, without the leave of the Senate: and 〈◊〉 that o●ght too have hi●d your courts without the walls, even when you bring home your armies with victory: now March ye into the city with Banners displayed, after you have murdered your own countrymen, and bathed yourselves in the blood of your own Kinsmen. Let liberty be clean driven ou● among Soul●●●●● ensigns, and let that people which is the Conque●●●● and 〈◊〉 of nations, be now at length besieged within her own walls, and be put in fear of her own banners after she hath chased away all outward wars, and suppressed all foreign fear.   

¶ The xvi Chapter.  
unkind was Coriolane, who becoming pitiful too late, laid away Weapon after repentance of his wickedness, howbeit in the mids of civil slaughter. Unkind was Catiline, who thought it but a small matter too conquer his own country, except he might lay it waste, and bring in the Armies of Savoy and Delphynois, and call in the enemies from beyond the Alps, too wreak their old and native hatred upon the city, so as the Roman captains might pay the yeeremyndes de we of long time too the tombs of the galls. Unkind was Caius Marius, who being called from the Gallis●op too the Consulship, could not feel his displeasure sufficiently revenged, nor himself well settled in his former state, till he had overmatched all former slaughters which the slaughter of the Cimbrians, & not only blown up a Trumpet, but also been himself as a Trumpet too the banishment and civil slaughter of his countrymen. Unkynd was Lucius Sylla, in healing his country with ●orer remedies than the perils themselves were. Who having gone upon man's blood from the tower of Prenest too the Gate Collina, 〈…〉 was of ripe years: rendered this thank too the Common weal, that he put others in possession of it also, as though he might have made his own pre-eminence the less envy, by making the thing lawful for many men, which was lawful for many men, which was lawful for noman. For while he sought extraordinary governements: while he distributed provinces to take the choice of them to himself: while he divided the common weal too the Thréemen, so as two parts of it remained in his own House: he brought the People of Rome too fuche an afterdéele, as they could not continue in safety, but by the benefit of bondage. Unkind was the very enemy and vanquisher of Pompey, Caius Julius Caesar: who, for all his tendering of the common weal, and for all his fawning upon the commonalty, led the wars about from France and Germany into the city, and pitched his camp in the Circle of Flaminius, nearer than Porsenna had done. In deed, right did temper the rigour of his victory, and he performed his ordinary saying, which was that he slew noman but if he were in arms. What fault had he then? Whereas the residue used their weapons more bloodily, yet at length they were satisfied, & laid them down again. But this man did soon put up his sword, but he never laid it away. Unthankful was Antodie too his own preferrer, in that he avowed him too he lawfully slain, and admitted his murderers too provinces and government. And when he had torn his country with proscriptions, invasions, and battles: after all these mischiefs, he gave it over into bondage: and that not unto Roman Kings, but after such a sort, as the same common weal which had fully restored right liberty, and freedom, too the Achayas', Rhodians and many other noble Cities, should itself pay tribute too gelded men.   

¶ The xvii Chapter.  
Time would fail me if I should reckon up all that have been unthankful, even with the utter destruction of their countries. And as endless a matter would it be, too run over the excellent and weldispozed men, to whom the common we ale itself hath been unthankful: and ●oo show how she hath oftentimes offended no less against others, than others have offended against her.  
It ba●ished Camillus, it sent Scipio out of the way, and it outlawed Cicero even after he ●ad suppressed Catiline, beating down his house spoiling his goods, and doing whatsoever Catiline himself would have done to him if he had gotten the victory. Rutilius was rewarded for his innocency, too go hide his head in Asia. The people of Rome said Cato nay of the praetorship, and utterly denied him the consulship. We be commonly unthankful all of us. Let every man ask his own conscience. Each man complains of others unthankfulness. But it could not fall out that all should complain, unless there were cause too complain of all. Are all men then but only unthankful? Yis, they be also all covetous, all malicious, and all fearful, specially those that seem too be most hardy. Yea I say further, they be all ambitious, and all ungodly. But there is no cause why ye should be angry with them: rather bear with than, for they be all out of their wits. I will not call thee back too uncerteinties, I pray thee see how unthankful youth is. Who is he, (be he never so innocent, meek, and kyndharted,) that doth not wish, wait, and long for his father's death? Where is there one among a number, that would be loath his wife should die, and not rather, maketh reckoning upon her death, be she never so good a wife? I pray you, what man being entangled in the law, and rid out of it by some other man's help, will bear so great a benefit in mind, any longer than till the next matter that comes may put it out of his head? This we be sure of: there is noman dieth without gurdging: there is noman that at his last hour dares say, 
Now welcome death which ends the race  
That fortune gave me here too trace.  Who departeth not unwillingly? who departeth not sighing▪ But it is the point of an unthankful person, not too be contented with the time forepast. Always the days of a man's life wilbée few, if he fall too numbering them. Consider how the sou●●ein good consisteth not in tyme. How long or short so ever thy time be, take it in good worth. The prolonging of thy deaths day availeth thee nothing too blessedness, because that by continuance the life is not made the blisfuller but the longer. How much better were it, too be thankful for the pleasures that a man hath received, and not too stand counting of other men's years, but too esteem his own gently, and too take them for a vantage? This hath God vouchsafed upon me, this is enough, he could have given me more, but even this also is his benefit. Let us be thankful too the gods, thankful too men, thankful too such as have bes●owed aught upon us, and thankful too those also which have done good too any of ours.   

The xviii Chapter.  
THou bindest me out of measure (sayest thou) when thou sayest Ours. Therefore set me some ●ad. By your saying, he that doth a good turn too the child, doth it also too the father. First I would have thee too set me some bound: and afterward too tell me, if a good turn be done too the father▪ 〈◊〉 the same extend also too the brother too the uncle, too 〈…〉 father, too the wife, and too the father in-law? Tell 〈…〉 I may stop, and how far I shall pursue thee pedigree of persons? If I till thy land for thee, I shall do thee a good turn: and if I quench thy house that is on a 〈…〉 in reparations that it der●● not, shall 〈…〉 If thou save ●ut my slave, I shall think myself 〈◊〉 to thee: and wilt not thou count it a benefit if I 〈…〉   

¶ The xix Chapter.  
TH●● 〈…〉 unlike examples. For he that 〈…〉, benefiteth 〈◊〉 my land; but me. And he that shoreth up my house that it fall not, doth the pleasure to me: for the house itself is senseless. I am his d●tter for it, or other wise he hath none. Also he that 〈…〉 it not too deserve well of my ground, but of me. The same do I say of my Bondman, for he is a part of my chatteiles, & is saved for me, and therefore I am debtor for him. But my son is himself capable of a good turn. Therefore it is he that receiveth it, and I am glad of his we●speeding. I am touched with him, ●ut not bound with him.  
Well then I would fay●e that thou which thinkest not thyself bound, shouldest answer me; whither the health, welfare, and prosperity of the so●●e pertain no●●oo the father? He shallbe the happier if he have his son safe, and the unhappyer if he forego him. Now then, if by 〈◊〉 means he be made the more happier, and delivered from the danger of extreme misery; receiveth he no benefit?  
No, says he. For some things are bestowed only upon othermen, though they reach even unto us. And therefore the thing is too be demanded at nomannes' hand but his that received it: like as 〈◊〉 is dema●●ded of the party too whom it was lent, although the same did in some wise come too my hands also. There is no benefits whose commodity extendeth not too them that be next hand, yea & now and then also too such as be furtherof. Our 〈◊〉 is not, too whom the good turn is passed over from him 〈…〉 it bestowed upon him: but where 〈◊〉 bestowed 〈…〉 must seek the thanks at the party himself, and at the very wells head.  
Go too the● I pray thee, when thou acknowledgest that I have given thee thy son, and tha● if he ●ad 〈…〉 hadst 〈…〉 life of 〈…〉 such time as I saved thy son, thou fellest 〈…〉, thou paydest thy 〈◊〉 unto the gods, as if thou hadst been saved thyself, and thou didst cast forth such words as these: It is all 〈…〉 me: you have saved two, and 〈◊〉 most of 〈…〉 thou so, if thou received no good 〈◊〉?  
Because that if my son 〈…〉, I will pay his creditor; but not as duty of mine own. And if my son be taken in adultery, I willbe ashamed of it, but yet shall not I therefore be the adulterer. I say I am bound too the for my son: not because I am so in deed, but because I am contented too offer myself too be thy debtor of mine own free will. But thou allegest, that by thy sa●●ing of my son, I received great pleasure and commodity, and escaped the grievous corzie of being childless. The question is not now, whether you have pleasured me, but whither you have benefited me. For a beast, or a S●one, or an her●e may pleasure us; but yet they benefit us not: for a benefit cannot be bestowed, but by a thing that is endued with will. Now then, thy will was not too bestow upon the father, but upon the son, and it may be, that thou knewest not the father. Therefore, when thou sayest, I have benefited the father by my saving of his son: say thus also on the otherside, I have benefited one that I never kne● nor never thought of. Besides this, now and then it falls out, that a man may hate the father and yet save the son; and wilt thou seem too have benefited him, too whom thou wart an enemy at the time of the deed doing? But too the intent too set aside this alter●ation of intertalke, and too answer like a counselor in law: the mind of the be●ower must be considered. Look on whom his will was too bestow his good turn, on him he bestowed it. If he did it for the fathers ●ake, the father received a benefit. Otherwise, the father is not bound by the benefit bestowed upon his son, although he have fruition ofit. Notwithstanding, if opportunity serve him, he h●mself also will do 〈◊〉 for him: not as of 〈…〉, but as taking occasion too begin. The benefit is not 〈◊〉 ●ee claimed at the father's hand. If he do any thing of courtesy for his sons sake, he is just, but not thankful. For it were an infinite matter, if the benefit that I bestow upon the son, were 〈…〉 his father, and his 〈◊〉, and his 〈…〉, and his 〈◊〉 uncle, and his 〈◊〉, and his 〈◊〉, and his friends, and his servants, 〈◊〉 country.  
Where then begins a benefit too stay? For now cometh in the insoluble kreeper, which is hard too restrain, because it stealeth up by inchmeate, and never leaves kreeping. Men are wont too put such a ●ace as this. Two brothers are at variance. If I save the one of them: whither do I benefit the other, who willbe s●rie that his brother perished not? No doubt but that like as it is no benefit if I do a man good against my will: so is it a benefit too do an unwilling man a good turn against his will.   

¶ T twenty Chapter.  
TErmest thou it a good turn (saith he) wherewith a man is offended and grieved? ma●ie good turns have a sorrowful and sour look, as the cut●ing and searing of a man too heal him, and the bridling of men by imprisonment. A man 〈◊〉 not look whither one be so●●ear the receiving of a good turn; but whither he have cause too be glad. A piece of Coyneis' not the worse because an alien and one tha● kn●wes not the common stamp refu●●●h it. He both ha●eth the good turn, and ●●iceyueth it. Now if it do him good, and that the inte●●●● the bestower was too do him good: it makes no matter th●●gh a man receive the good turn with an evil will. Gotoo, turn this the contrary way. A man hateth his Br●ther, whom it were for his behoof too have still ●●yue. Him 〈◊〉 I slay. It is no benefit, al●ecit that he take it for one, and he glad of it. Most traitor ou●●y doth he hurt, which getteth thanks 〈◊〉 doing harm.  
I understand you. Because a thing doth good, therefore it is a benefit: and if it do harm, it is therefore no benefit.  
Behold I will bring you a thing that shall do neither good nor hame, and yet it shallbe a benefit. I find a man's father, dead in wilderuesse, and I bury his body. I have done the deadman no good, (for what had it skilled him after what manner he had been consumed?) nor yet too his son: for what commodity had he thereby?  
I will tell thee what the son got. By me he performed a reverend and necessary duty. I have done that thing for his father, which he himself both would and should have done. Now, if I did it not for common pity and manners sake only, as I might have buried any other dead man's body: but knew the carcase, and thought upon the son at the same time, and did it for his sake: then is it a benefit. But if I cast earth upon an unknown person: I have no debtor for this courtesy, because it was but a point of public humanity.  
Some man will say why make you such a question on whom you bestow your benefit, as though you meant too claim it again at some time or other?  
There are that think it ought never too be claimed again, and they allege these causes. He that is unworthy will not render though it be claimed: and a worthy person will render of his own accord. Moreover if thou have bestowed upon a good man, take heed thou do him not wrong in calling upon him, as though he would not have requited of his own free will. And if thou have bestowed upon an evil man, be sorry for thy so doing: but disgrace not thy benefit with thine own words, by making it a Det. Furthermore, look, what the Law of benefiting hath not commanded to be claimed, that hath it forbidden too be claimed.  
These be but words. For as long as nothing pincheth me, and as long as misfortune compelles me not: I will rather let my good turn slip, than challenge it. But if my Children stand in hazard of their life, if my wife be brought in peril, if the welfare and liberty of my Count●●e send me too such a place as I am loath too come at: I will strain courtesy with my shame, and I will show myself too have done all that ever I could do, that I might not have needed the help of a churl. In fine, the necessity of receiving a good turn, shall overcome the shame of claiming it. Again when I bestow a ben●fite upon a good man, I bestow it in such wise as I will never call for it again, unless necessity enforce me. But the law (saith he) in not giving leave too claim, forbiddeth thee too claim.   

¶ The xxi Chapter.  
Many things have neither law, nor Action. But customme of man's life, which is of more force than all law, bringeth them in. No law forbiddeth a man too bewray his friends secrets, nor bindeth a man too keep promise with his foe. Yea what law bindeth us too be just of our word too any man? None. Yet will I find fault with him that shall bewray my talk had with him in secret, and I willbe discontented with him that shall give me his faith and not keep it.  
By this means (saith he) of a benefit thou makest a Det.  
No, not so. For I do not exact it, but request it again, no nor request it again, but warn him of it. For utter necessity may drive me so far, that I shall come unto him. Asfor him that is so churlish, that a warning will not suffice him, but I must be fain too strive with him: I will pass him over, and not make so much account of him, as too force him too be thankful. For likewise as there be some debtors whom a creditor will not call upon, because he knoweth they have wasted all away, & it were but farther loss too meddle with them, forasmuchas nothing can make them ashamed: even so also will I pass over some that are openly and wilfully thankless, neither will I claim a good turn at any man's hand, save where I may receive it without haling of it from him.   

¶ The xxii Chapter.  
THere be many that know neither how too deny that which they have received, nor how too requite it: which sort are neither so good as thankful, nor so bad as unthankful, but are dull and grossewitted, and slow Paymaysters, howbeit not evil. Too such as these I will make no claim: but I will admonish them and train them forth too their duty while they be otherwise occupied, so as they shall by and by answer me in this wise. I pray you bear with me. In good faith I knew not that you had need of this; for had I known it, I would have offered it you. I beseech you think not any unkindness in me, I remember well what you have done for me.  
Why should I stick too make such as these, both better too me, and better too themselves? If I can, I shall keep any man from offending: and specially from offending against myself. In not suffering him too become a churl, I bestow another benefit upon him. Yet shall I not roughly upbraid him with that which I have done for him: but too the end I may give him leave to render friendship, I shall with gentleness renew the remembrance of it, and request him too do me some pleasure: and asfor my claiming, let him espy that himself. Now and then also I shall use somewhat quicker words, if I hope he may be amended by them. But if he be past recovery, I shall not stir his patience, lest of my faint friend I make him mine utter foe. For if we let the unthankful slip without prompting them by some remembrance; we shall make them but the slower too requite. Again there be othersome within compass of recovery, which may be brought too goodness if they be a little bitten: whom we shall suffer too come too nought by withdrawing admonishment, wherethrough the father otherwiles hath amended his son, and the wife reclaimed her straying Husband, and the friend quickened up the faithfulness of his fainting friend.   

¶ The xxiii Chapter.  
TOO wake some men, you must not strike them, but jog them. After the same manner, the assuredness of some men in requiting kindness, doth not cease, but faint: and these must we jog. Turn not thy good-turne into a shrewd turn. For thou dost me wrong if thou challenge not sometime, too the end I should be thankful. What if I know not whereof thou hast want? What if I espied not the occasion, because I was buzyed in weighty affairs, and called too other matters? Show me what I may do, and what thou wouldst have. Wherefore despayrest thou before thou have tried? Wherefore makest thou such haste too lose both thy benefit and thy friend? How knowest thou whither I will not, or whither I wot not: whither I want will, or whither I want ability? Try me.  
Then will I admonish him, not bitterly, nor openly, but with out reproach, so as he may think he calls it too mind of himself, and is not put in mind of it by me.   

¶ The xxiiii Chapter.  
ONE Publius Militio an old soldier of julius Caesar's, had a sewt before him against his neighbours, and was like to have gone by the worse. captain (quoth he) remember you not how you sprent your ankle once about Sucro in Spain? Yis said Caesar. Then you remember also, that when you went too sit do●ne under a certain tree that cast very little shadow, (for the son was exceeding hot and the place very rough in which that only one tree grew out from among the ●ragged cliffs): one of your soldiers did spread his cloak under you. When Caesar had answered, yea marry, why should I not remember it? for when I was nigh dead for thirst: because I was not able too go too the next spring by reason of my foot, I would have krept thither upon all four, but that a soldier of mine, a tall stout fellow, brought me water in his burganet. captain (quoth he) and do you know that man, or that burganet if you see them again? Caesar said he knew not the burganet, but the man he knew very well. And (as I think being angry with him for withdrawing him from the hearing of the matter too that old stolen pageant) he added, but I am sure thou art not he. Caesar (quoth he) I blame you not though you know me not. For when this was done, I was whole and sound. But afterward mine eye was stricken out in the battle at Munda, and splitters of bones were pikt out of my skull. Neither could you know that Burganet if you saw it. For it was cleft asunder with a Spanish Holberd. hereupon Caesar commanded that this soldier should be troubled no further, and gave him the ground through which the way lay that made this strife and sewt between him and his neighbours.   

¶ The xxv Chapter.  
WHat then? Should he not claim the good turn at his captain's hand, whose memory the multitude of things had confounded, and whom the greatness of his charge in ordering whole armies, suffered not too think upon every several soldier? This is not a claiming of a benefit, but a fetching of it in a good place, where it was laid up in store and ready for him. And yet if a man will have it be must reach out his hand too take it. Therefore, forasmuch as the thing that I will do, shallbe either for mine own necessities sake, or for his sake of whom I demand it; I will challenge it. As one was saying too Tiberius' Caesar, Remember you? at the first dash, before he could utter any more tokens of old acquaintance, I remember not (quoth he) what I have been. How long should a man have forborn the claiming of a benefit at this man's hand? He stopped his mouth with forgetfulness. He could not away with the acquaintance of any of his friends and companions. His present state was the only thing that he would have them too look at, too think upon, and too speak of. Affor an old friend, he took him but for a spy. A man must be more choice in taking of his time when he will claim a benefit, than when he will request one: and he must use a discreetness in his words, so as even the unthankful may not be able too dissemble. If we lived among wise men, we should hold our peace and tarry their leisure. And yet is it good too make wise men privy too our estate. For we trave of the gods, from whom the knowledge of nothing is hidden, and yet do not prayers certify them, but entreat them. Yea truly, that 
* ●●hryses the ●●est of Aplo. lib. 1. ●●ad.  priest in Homer appointeth services and altars devoutly haunted, even too the very gods, thereby too make them pliable, and they incline unto him. Too be willing and inclynable too be admonished, is a principal virtue. The mind of such (which in few men is the best ruler of itself) must be rained softly this way and that way. The next are such as amend upon admonishment: and such are not too be left destitute of a guide. When a man's eyes are blindfolded, the sight of them is the same it was, but it stands him in no steed, till the gods do let in the light to them, and call them forth too their accustomed servis. The instruments cease, except the workman apply them too their work. Likewise, there is a good will in our minds: but it is benumbed onewhyle with pleasures, anotherwhyle with restinesse, and anotherwhyle with ignorance of our duty. This must we make profitable, and not through impatiency leave it in the stocks. But like as ●●hoo●●masters do patiently bear with the seapes of their young scholars, that happen through stippernesse of memory, and bring them too say their whole lessons without book, by prompting them a word or twain: even so must men be reclaimed too requite kindness, by gentle admonishment.  
The end of the fifth book.    

❧ The sixth book of Lucius Annaeus Seneca, concerning benefits.  

¶ The first chapter.  
S●mme things (my friend Liberalis) are sought only for exercise of wit, and lie always without the life, and othersome are both delightful in the seeking, and profitable when they be found: I will make thee partaker of them all. According as thou thinkest good, command thou them too be either gone through with, or too be brought in, but to set forth the order of the game, Yea and even in these things also there willbe some good done, if thou bid me dispatch them out of hand. For it is good too know even that thing which is superfluous too learn. Therefore I will hang upon thy countenance, and according as that shall counsel me, some things I will stand long upon, some I will dispatch out of hand, and othersome I will abridge.   

¶ The second Chapter.  
IT is a question whither a benefit can be taken away from a man. some say it can not, because it is not a substance, but a deed. For like as a present is one thing, & the presenting of it is another: and like as he that saileth is one thing, and the sailing itself is another: And albeit that a sick man be not without sickness: yet is not the sick man and his sickness alone thing: So likewise the benefit itself is one thing, and the thing that cometh too each of us with the benefit, is another thing. The benefit itself is a bodiless thing▪ and cannot be made void: but the matter of it is tossed too and fro, and changeth his Master. Therefore although thou take it away, yet can not nature call back that which she hath given. Nature may break of her benefits, but she cannot revoke them. He that is dead, hath been alive: and he that hath lost his eyes, hath also seen. It may be brought too pass that the things which are come to us, may cease too be: but that they may not have been, it is impossible. A part of a benefit, yea and the surest part of a benefit, is that which hath been. diverse times we be letted too enjoy the use of a benefit any long time: but the benefit itself cannot be razed out. Although nature should call all her powers about her too do it, yet should she not be able too undo that which is once done. Houses, money, Bondmen, and whatsoever else the name of a benefit cleaveth unto, may be taken away. But the benefit itself is steadfast and unmovable. No force can bring too pass, that the one shall not have given, and the other received.   

The iii Chapter.  
ME thinks it was very well done of Marcus Antonius (in the poetry of Rabirius) when he saw his good fortune passing away, and nothing left him save the right of death, whereof he was like too be disappointed also (if he took it not betimes) too cry out: What I gave, I have. O how much might he have had, if he had listed? These be the assured riches which shall always abide in one place (let the world turn which way it will) and the greater that they be, the less shall they be envy. Why sparest thou them as though they were thy●e own? Thou art but an Amner. All these things which make you swell, and hoist you up above man's estate, causing you too forget your own frailty: which you keep i● yr●n chistes guarded with armed men: which you purchase with othermennes' blood, and defend with your own: for which you send forth navies too die the Seas red with blood: for which you shake Cities, and yet you know not what store of artillery Fortune hath prepared against yourselves: for which with so often breach of the Leagues of alliance, friendship, and fellowship, the whole world is crushed betwixt you two, while you strive for the goal: all these things (I say) are none of yours, they are but as things committed too your custody, whereof another man is already the right owner, and which shall shortly be possessed either by your open enemy, or by one that hath an open enemies heart.  
Thou askest how these things may be made thine? By giving them away. provide thou then for thine own estate, and put thyself in sure and unavoidable possession of them: so shalt thou make them, not only more honourable, but also more certain. The things which thou makest so much of, whereby thou thinkest thyself rich and puissant, lie under a base name as long as thou keepest them: for they be but Houses, servants, and money. But when thou hast given them, they are a benefit.   

¶ The four Chapter.  
YOu grant (sayeth he) that sometime we are not in his Det, of whom we have received a good turn: Ergo we are bereft of it again.  
There are many causes why we cease too be beholden for a benefit: not because it is taken away from us again, but because it is marred by him that receiveth it. Admit a man have defended me at the bar, and afterward he ravisheth my Wife by force. In so doing he hath not bereft me of his former benefit, but he hath discharged me of being indebted, by matching it with as great a wrong. And if he have done me more harm than he had erst done me pleasure: I not only owe him no thanks but also am set at liberty to revenge myself and too cry out upon him, because that in comparison the wrong outweyeth the benefit: and so the benefit is not bereft, but overcountered.  
What? are not some fathers so hard-hearted and wicked, that of good right a man may loath them and eschew them? Do such then bereave their children of the things they had given them?  
No. But yet the unnaturalness which they use afterward, taketh away the commendation of all their former kindness. The benefit is not taken away, but the thank of the benefit: and it cometh too pass, not that I have it not, but that I am not beholden for it. A man lends me money, and he burns my House. My loss dischargeth my debt; and though I pay him nought, yet I own him nought.  
Even so stands the case here. Though a man in some point deal friendly and liberally with me: yet if he afterward deal proudly reproachfully and cruelly with me many ways▪ he hath set me in such case, that I am as free from him, as if I had never received aught at his hand. He hath overthrown his own benefits. If the Landelorde tread out his Fermours corn upon the ground, and fell down his frute-trees: the Fermor stands not bound too him though the Indentures remain uncancelled. Not because the landlord hath received that which he covenanted for: but because that he himself was the let that he could not receive it. So also divers times the creditor is cast in damages too his debtor, when he hath by some other means taken more from him than the det came too. Not only between the creditor and the debtor sitteth the judge too say: Thou haste lent him money. But what for that? Thou haste driven away his cattle, thou hast slain his servants, thou holdest away his ground which he should pay thee for. Ualew these things one with another, 〈◊〉 thou that camest hither a creditor, shalt departed hence a debtor. Many times also the benefit remaineth, and yet is not the receiver beholden for it: as for example, if the bestower repented him of his gift, if he found fault with himself for giving it, if in departing from it he sighed, or looked big, or thought it lost and not given, if he gave it for his own sake, or at leastwise not for mine, if he ceased not too twytt me by it, if he boasted of it, if he blazed it abroad, or if he made his gift irksomme. The benefit therefore remaineth, although it be not too be requited, in likewise as some debts are owing and yet shall not be recovered, because the creditor can have no law against the party.   

¶ The .v. Chapter.  
THere is also an Audit too be kept between goodturnes and badturnes. A man doth me a pleasure, and afterward he doth me a displeasure. There is both thanks dew too his good turn, and revengement too his shrewd turn. For neither aught he to be thanked of me, nor I too be revenged of him. Either quitteth other. When I say I have requited his good turn●; I mean not that I have redelivered y● same thing I received, but that I have yielded some other thing for it. For too requite is too give one thing for another. And why not, seeing that in all payments, it is not the self-same thing, but asmuch that is restored. For we be said too have paid our debt, although we render gold for silver, and although we deliver no money at all, but make our payment by setting over, or by exchange. Me things I here thee say, thou losest thy labour. For what am I the better by knowing whither the thing that is not owed abide still or no? These are pretty nice points of Lawyers, which hold opinion how it is not the inheritance itself that can be enjoyed, but the things that are contained in the inheritance. As who should say, the inheritance were aught else than the things that are contained in the inheritance. Nay rather, dispatch me of this doubt, which may make too the purpose: namely, when the same man that hath done me a good turn doth me afterward a displeasure, whither ought I both too requy●e his good turn, and yet nevertheless too be revenged of him, and so to make even with him severally, as in several respects: or else to set the one against the other, and too make no more ado of it: so as the displeasure shall wipe away the good turn, & the good turn wipe away the displeasure? For I see that that is the order of this court. What is the law of your school, look you to that. Actions must be pleaded severally, and look whereof we commence, too the same must we be answered. If a man that hath committed Monnie to my keeping, do afterward steal it from me, and I sew him of felony and he answer me of Det, the manner of pleading is confounded.   

¶ The vi Chapter.  
MY friend Liberalis, the examples that you have alleged, are contained within certain bounds which must needs be followed. For y● one La●e is not intermingled with the other. Either of them keepeth his own course. verily as well is there a peculiar action for gauges, as for theft. But benefiting is not fubiect to any law. It referreth itself too mine own discretion. It is lawful for me too compare, how each man hath profited me or hindered me. And when I have done, I may give sentence whither I be more in his det, or he in mine. In Lawmatters we have no power of ourselves, we must follow as we be led. But in benefiting I have full authority in myself: and therefore I neither separate nor divide them, but bring as well the wrongs as the benefits, both before one judge. Otherwise thou wouldst have me both too love and too hate, and to give thanks, all at once: which is an impossibility in nature. Nay rather, by comparing the benefit and wrong toogither▪ I shall see who is most in others det. For like as if a man should write other ly●es aloft upon my writings he should deface the first letters but not take them away: even the displeasure that followeth upon a good turn, doth but blemish the good turn.   

¶ The vii Chapter.  
THy countenance (too the government whereof I have submitted myself) gathereth wrinkles and frowneth upon me, as though I ran at random. Me thinks I hear thee say: whither raungest thou me out so far on the Right hand? Draw more hitherward and keep thee too the shore.  
I can keep no nearer. Therefore if thou think I have satisfied thee in this point: let us pass to the other; namely whither we be any thing beholden to him that hath done us good against his will. I could have spoken this more plainly, but that the proposition must be somewhat confused, too the end that the distinction immediately insewing may show how I demand, both whither we be beholden to him that hath done us good and meant it not, and also whither we be beholding too him that hath done us good and witted it not. For if a man be forced too do us good, it is more manifest that he bindeth us not, than that any words should be spent in the proof of it. This question, and all other that may be moved like unto it, is easily discussed, if we bear this principle continually in mind: namely that it is no benefit at all, which is not first by some mean meant towards us, and therewithal also both friendly and courteous. And therefore we thank not the rivers although they bear great ships, and r●n in large continual streams too convey home store of wealth: nor for their ronning full of fish, and with pleasure through batling grounds. Noman thinketh himself more bound too Nilus for the good he receiveth by it, than he hateth him for his swelling over high, or for his falling away too slowly. Neither doth the wind bestow a benefit, though it blow gentle and prosperous: nor our meat because it nourisheth and is wholesome. For he that shall benefit me, must not only do me good, but also have an intent too do it. Therefore men be not indebted too the dumb beasts: and yet what a number have been delivered from danger by the swiftness of their horses? nor yet too the Trees: and yet how many have been succoured with the shadow of their boughs in extremity of heat? What skills it me whither he that doth me good know not that he doth it, or be not able too know it: sith that both of them wanted will too do it? And what difference is there whither you would have me too own a good turn too a ship, or a chariot, or a spear; or too such a man as no whit more purposed too benefit me, than any of those things did: but did me good by hap only?   

¶ The viii Chapter.  
A Man may receive a benefit unwitting, but he cannot bestow it unwitting. For like as many men be healed by mischances and yet the same mischances are no medicines; as for example, the falling into a river with great rush, hath unto some men been a cause of health, and some have been rid of a quartan by whipping, so as the sudden fear hath disappointed the fit by turning the mind too another thought, and yet are none of these things healthful though they have wrought health for the time: even so some men do us good when they mean it not, or rather by meaning the contrary, and yet we are not their debtors of a good turn. What if fortune have turned their hurtful intentes too my good? Suppose you I am any whit beholding too him whose hand struck at me and hit mine enemy, and had hurt me if it had not swerved? Oftentimes the perjury of a man's enemy hath discredited him upon true allegations and witnesses, and made the defendant too be pitied, as entrapped by conspiracy. The main force that oppressed some man hath been the cause of his deliverance, and the judges would not condemn him for pity, whom they would have condemned for his case. Yet have none of these benefited me, though they have saved me. For the question is, whereat the dart was thrown, and not what it did hit: and the thing that putteth the difference between a benefit and a wrong, is not the falling out, but the intent. Mine adver sarie offendeth the judge with his pride, and furthereth my case by speaking contraries, and by putting himself rashly upon one witness. I ask not whither he misbehaved himself too pleasure me or no: for his will was bend against me.   

¶ The ix Chapter.  
Verily too the end I may be thankful, I must have a will too do as he hath done too me: like as it behoved him too have an intent too do me good, too the end too benefit me. For what greater wrong can there be, than too hate a man for treading on his foot in a throng, or for spitting upon him, or for thrusting him whither he would not. And yet forasmuch as there is misusage in the deed: what other thing is it that can excuse him from blame, than that he will not what he did? The same thing that exempteth the one from being thought too have done wrong, exempteth the other also from being thought too have done a pleasure. It is the intent that maketh friend or foe. Many have been excused from warfare by sickness. some have been held from meeting with the fall of their own house, by keeping their day of appearance at the suit of their enemies. And some by sh●pwr●cke have scaped the hands of pirates. Yet own we none of these a good turn, because chance is without the compass of courtesy: neither am I any thing beholden too mine enemy, whose suit saved me while he trubled me and held me away. It is no good turn except it proceed from a good will, and except the party that did it witted it. Hath a man profited me, and knew not of it? I am nothing in his det for it. Did he me good when he would have hurt me? I will follow his example.   

¶ The ten Chapter.  
LET us turn again too the first point: That too the end I should be thankful, thou wilt have me too do somewhat: and yet the other, too benefit me, hath done nothing at all. Secondly thou wilt have me too be so kyndharted, that I must requite that thing willingly, which I received of him against his will. For what should I speak of the third, whose harm turned too my benefit? If thou wilt have me too own thee a good turn, it is not enough for thee too be only willing too do me good. But too make me unbeholden to thee, it is enough that thou mentest it not towards me. For the bare will maketh not a benefit. And like as it is no benefit if there want success of performance, though the will be never so well disposed and bent too do good: so likewise it is no benefit, except good will go before the success of the deededooing. For if thou wilt have me beholden to thee: thou must not only do me good, but also thou must do it purposely.   

¶ The xi Chapter.  
Cleanthes' useth such an example as this. I sent out two boys (sayeth he) into the academy too seek Plato, and too bring him too me. The one of them searched all the walks and galleries, and ran seeking him through all other places where he thought he might be found, and yet came home weary and disappointed. The other of them sat him down at the next Puppetplayers, and afterward gadding about the streets like a Stray, fell in company with other wags, and as he was playing, spied Plato pass by, whom he never sought. I (sayeth Cleanthes) will commend the Boy which (as much as in him lay) did the thing he was commanded: and I will beat the other Boy that was reckless, for all his good luck. It is the will that worketh me friendship: the intent whereof must be considered, if thou wilt have it too bind me too be thy debtor. It is small worth to mean a man good, unless thou do it. For put the case a man meant too give me sowewhat, and gave it not: sooth I have his heart, but not his good turn, which requireth both the deed and the intent, to make it perfect. For like as I own nought to him that minded too lend me Monnie, and lent it not: so likewise, unto him that was minded to do me good and couldnot, I shall bear good will, but I shall not be bound. And I mean too do for him, because he meant too have done for me. Notwithstanding, if good fortune serve me too do aught for him: in so doing I shall be the first doer of a good turn, and not the requyter of a good turn. It shallbe his duty too render thanks, and the entrance of his thankfulness shall have proceeded from me.   

¶ The xii Chapter.  
I perceive already what thou meenest too demand. Thou needest not too tell me, thy countenance telleth it me. If a man have done us good for his own sake, are we any thing indebted to him sayest thou? For I hear thee complaining oftentimes of this, that men do many things for themselves, and challenge other men for them.  
I shall tell thee my Liberalis: But first I will divide this question, and set the right asunder from the wrong. For it is much too the purpose, whither a man do us a good turn for his own sake, or for our sake, or for his own and ours toogither. He that hath regard all wholly too himself, and doth us good because he can none otherwise profit himself: seemeth unto me too be all one with him, that provideth winterstover and Sommerféede before hand for his cattle, or that feedeth well his Prisoners too fell them the better, or that stalleth and currieth his fair Oxen too make the readier utterance of them, or like a master of Fence that exerciseth his Usshers with all care, too set them out as brave as he can. There is great odds (sayeth Cleanthes) between benefiting and barganing.   

¶ The xiii Chapter.  
again, I am not so straight laced, that I would be nothing beholden too him that hath profited himself by doing me good. For I require not that he should pleasure me without regard of himself: but rather I wish with all my heart, that the benefit bestowed upon me, may turn too the greater avail of the bestower; conditionally that he had an eye too both of us in bestowing it, and had an intent too part the stake between him and me, though the greater share fell too himself. If he made me his partner and meant it too us both: I not only do him wrong, but also am a rank churl if I rejoice not that the same thing profited him which profited me. It is the greatest churlishness that can be, too account a thing too be no benefit, except it be so mine discommonitie too the bestows. But asfor him that respected only himself when he profited me, I will answer him otherwise. Seeing thou didst use me but too serve thine own turn, why shouldest thou say thou didst pleasure me, rather than that I pleasured thee? Put the case (sayeth he) that I could not otherwise be admitted too some office, than if I ransomed ten of my countrymen from out of a great number of prisoners. If I redeem thee for one of the ten, wilt thou think thyself nothing beholden to me for delivering thee out of thraldomme and bonds? And yet I do it for mine own sake. Heruntoo I answer: In this case thou dost somewhat for thine own sake, and somewhat for mine. Thy ransoming of me is for thine own sake, and thy choosing of me is for mine. For the accomplishment of thy purpose, it was sufficient for thee too have redeemed any ten. And therefore I am beholding too thee, not for redeeming me, but for choosing me. For thou mightest have obtained the same thing, by ransoming of some other as well as me. Thou impartest the profit of the thing to me, and admittest me too thy benefit which shall turn too the behoof of us both. This thou proferest me before others, and this thou doest wholly for my sake. But if thy redeeming of ten prisoners should make thee Praetor of the city, and there were no more but ten prisoners of us in all none of us should be beholding unto thee, because thou couldst not say thou hadst done aught for any of us, which respected not thine own peculiar profit. I am not a misconstrewer of good turns, neither covet I that they should redound too myself only, but also unto thee.   

The xiiii Chapter.  
BUT (sayeth he) what if I had put your names into a lottery, and that thy name had been drawn for one of those that should be ransomed: shouldest thou be nothing beholden too me? Yis marry should I, howbee it very little. And what that is, I will tell thee. Thou diddest somewhat for my sake, in that thou didst put me in the lot of ransoming. That my name is drawn, I am beholden too fortune: That it could be drawn, I am beholding too thee. Thou haste given me an entrance too thy benefit, the more part whereof I own too good luck: but yet I am also beholden to thee, for that I might be beholden too good fortune. Asfor those that make a merchandyze of their good turns, passing not too whom they do them, but how much too their own advantage, so as they may always return home too themselves: I will quite overpass them. As for example: A man sells me corn, and I should starve if I bought it not: yet am I not beholden too him for my life: because I paid for it. Neither reckon I how much I stood in need of the thing wherwithout I could no● have lived: but what an unkindness it was that I had gone without it, if I had not paid for it: in the bringing in whereof, the chapman thought not how too relieve me, but how too make his own gain. Thus am I not beholden for that which I have bought.   

¶ The xu Chapter.  
BY this reckoning (sayeth he) thou wilt say thou owest nothing too thy physician, because thou hast given him a little ●ée, nor too thy Shoolema●ster, because thou hast paid him some wages. But among us there is great love and great reverence yielded unto such. Too this we answer thus: that some things are more worth than is paid for them. Of 〈…〉 buyest life and health: and of thy 〈…〉 behaviour and furniture of mind which are things 〈◊〉. Therefore unto these ●ee pay●, not the price of the thing, but the price of their pains, for that 〈…〉 turns, and for that they were called a●ay from their own businesses, too employ their time upon us. They reap the reward, not of their desert, but of their trade. Yet may another thing be more truly alleged, which I will anon declare, when I have first showed how this may be disproved. Some things (sayeth he) are worth more than they cost: and therefore albeit that thou ●oughtest them, yet thou owest me somewhat what over and beside for them.  
First, what skills it how much they be worth, seeing th● price was agreed upon between the buyer and the se●ler? Again, the buyer did not set the price upon the thing, but thou thyself didst set it. It is more worth sayeth he than it was sold for. But (say I) it could be sold for no more. The price of things riseth and falleth according too the tyme. When thou hast praised them too the uttermost, they are worth but asmuchas may be gotten for them. Besides this, he that hath bought good cheap, oweth his Chapman n●thing. Moreover although these things be more worth: yet is it no Godhamereie too thee, considering that the estimation of these things dependeth not upon the use and effect of them, but upon the custom and dearth of them. What price wilt thou set upon him, who in passing the Seas (yea even through the thickest of the Surges,) when he is out of sight of the Land, keepeth his course certain, & fore seeing the storms at hand, when all men think least of it, doth soodeinly bid them strike sail and let down the tackling, and too stand in a readiness against the sudden coming and brunt of the storm? None: and yet is the Monney which is paid too such a one for his Fare, a full recompense for his travel. How much worth esteem you a lodging in a wilderness, a House in a shower, and a statue or a fire when a man is acold? And yet I know we how much these things will cost me when I come too mine inn. How much doth he for us, which shoreth up ●ur decayed house, and by wonderful cunning hangeth it up like an isle, from the foundation which is riven? Yet is the price of such shoring, both certain and ●asie too be paid. A wall defendeth us from ●ur enemies, and saveth us from the sudden invasions of Robbers: yet is it known what the Mason that buildeth those bulwarks for defence of the common weal, may earn by the day for his Wages.   

¶ The xvi Chapter.  
IT would be an endless matter, if I should raundge further in alleging the examples, whereby it may appear, how great things are sold cheap. What then? why own I some further thing to my physician and schoolmasters, so as my paying of their fee dischargeth me not?  
Because that from a physician and schoolmasters they pass into a friend, and their binding of us, is not by their art which they sell; but by their friendly and familiar good will. A●d therefore asfor the physician that doth no more but feel my pulse, & reckon me but as one of those whom he visiteth in his ordinary walk, prescrybing what is to be done or eschewed without further affection: I am no whit in his Det, because he visited me not as a friend, but as a customer of his. Neither is there any reason why I should reverence my schoolmaster, if he made none other account of me than as of a common scholar, nor thought me worthy of any singular and peculiar care, nor ever set his mind specially upon me, insomuch that when he powered out the things that he knew among us, I rather took them, than was taught them. What is the cause then why I should think myself much beholding too such as these? Not for that the thing which they have ●olde, is more worth than it cost, but because they have done some special thing too myself. The physician did more for me than he needed too have done. He was careful for me, & not for the report of his couning. He was not contented too show me the medicine, but als● ministered it. In the mean while he sat carefully by me, and resorted too me at times of danger. No paynestaking was painful to him, no pain was l●thsomme too him. It grieved him too here my groanings. Among a number of patie●tes that called upon him, I was his chief cure. He bestowed no more leisure upon others, than the tyming of me would give him leave. I am bound too such a one, not as too a physician, but as too a friend. again, the schoolmaster took great labour and pain in teaching me. Besides the things that he taught in common too my fellows as well as me, he trained and instructed me in certain other things: sometime he quickened up my good inclination by exhorting me; and gave me courage by commending me: and otherwiles he drove away my flothe by calling upon me. Furthermore he drew forward my dull and linger wit, as it were by laying hand upon it, and he was not nigardlie in bestowiug his knowledge upon me too make me have need of him the longer, but coveted too have powered it out into me all at once, if he had could. Unthankful were I if I loved him not as on of the dearest and nearest of my kin.   

¶ T xvii Chapter.  
WE give somewhat more than covenant, even too the teachers of the bacest handicrafts. And if we find a pilot, or handicrafts man, or a labourer that is hired by y● day more earnest & painful at his work than of ordinary; we give him a sprinkling more than his ordinary wages. Unthankful then is he that in the best arts, which either preserve or adorn man's life, thinks himself too own no more than he covenants for. Ad heereuntoo, that the teaching of such arts linketh men's minds toogither: in consideration whereof, as well too ●he physician as too the schoolmaster, the reward of their pains is paid, but the reward of their good wills is owing still.   

¶ The xviii Chapter.  
WHen a certain ferry-man had carried Plato over a river, and demanded nothing of him for his fare: Plato believing he had done it for courtesy too himward, said he would keep his curtsy in store for him. Within a while after, when Plato saw him ferry over others with like diligence, and of fre● cost: he denied that he kept any courtesy of his in store for him. For if a man will have me● too be a debtor for the thing that he doth too me, it behoveth him too do it, not only to me, b●t also for my sake. Thou 〈…〉 any one man, for that which thou laughest out among a multitude. What then? is there nothing owing for this? No, nothing, as at any one ma●●●s hand. For I will pay with all men, that which I own 〈…〉 men.   

¶ The xix Chapter.  
Deniest thou (sayeth he) that that man hath befreended me at all, which hath brought me up the river Po in his Ship for nothing? I deny it. He doth me some good, but he befreendeth me not. For he doth it for his own sake, o● at leastwise not for mine. Too be short, not even he himself deemeth himself too bestow a benefit upon me: but he doth it either for the common weal, or for the next towneship, or for his own vainglory, or else in lieu thereof he tooketh for some further commodity, than he should have had by taking every man's fare. But what if the Emperor should make all frenchmen Fréedenizens, or set all Spanyar●es free from subjection? should none of them severally owe aught in this case? yes, why should they not? Notwithstanding▪ they shall owe, not as for a peculiar benefit, but as for a piece of a public benefit.  
He never thought on me at all (sayeth he) at the time that he did good to us all. He meant not precisely too make me free of the city, neither did he set his mind upon me. And so, why should I be in debt to him, who purposed not upon me when he intended the thing that he did?  
First when he purpose too do good too all frenchmen, he purposed too do good to me also, for I was a Frencheman: and although he marked me not out by name, yet he comprehended me under the general mark. And therefore I shallbe his debtor, not as a peculiar person, butas one of the whole multitude. And I shall not requite it as in mine own behalf, but I shallbe contributary too it as in the behalf of my Country.   

The twenty Chapter.  
IF a man lend money too my country, I shall not account myself his debtor, neither shall I acknowledge it as my Det, either too sew or too be sewed: and yet▪ shall I give my portion too the payment of it. Even so I deny myself too be debtor for the benefit that is bestowed upon all in common, because that althongh he bestowed it, yea and upon me also: yet did he it not for my sake, neither knew he whither he did it too me or no. nevertheless. I ought too know that my part must be in the paying of it, because it came by a long circumstance even unto me also. The thing that should bind me, should be done peculiarly for mine own sake.  
By this reckoning (●ayth he) thou art not beholden too the moon nor too the son. For they move not peculiarly for thy sake.  
No: and yet notwithstanding, forasmuchas their moving is too preserve all things in general: they move for me too. For I am a part of the whole. Moreover, the state of these things & of us is unlike. For he that doth me good, only to profit himself thereby, hath not benefited me, because he made me but the instrument of his own profit. But asfor the son and the moon, although they do us good for their own sakes: yet the intent of their doing good unto us, is not too profit themselves thereby. For what can we bestow upon them?   

¶ The xxi Chapter.  
I might be sure (sayeth he) that the son and▪ the moon are willing too do us good, if it lay in their power too be unwilling: But they cannot but mo●e. Let them stand still a little and rest from their work.  
See how many 〈…〉. A man is not therefore the less willing because he cannot be unwilling. But it is a great proof of a steadfast will, that it cannot be altered. A good man cannot do otherwise than well, for he should not be a good man if he did not well. Ergo a good man bestoweth no benefit, because he doth but as he ought too do, and he ca●not do otherwise than as he ought too do. Besides this, there is great difference whither you say, he cannot but do this thing because he is compelled too do it: and whither you sa●e, he cannot be unwilling too do it. For if he must needs do it whither he will or no: then am I not beholden unto him for my good turn, but too the party that compelled him. But 〈◊〉 the 〈◊〉 of his willingness proceed of this, that he cannot will but well: then compelleth he himself. And so, look for what thing I should not have been beholden to him as compelled by others: for the same shall I be beholden to him as too the compeller.  
Yea, but let them cease too be unwilling, sayeth he.  
Consider thou here, who is so far out of his 〈◊〉, as too deny that too be willingness, which is not in peril of ceasing, or of altering itself too the contrary: seeing that on the other side, noman may of right seem so willing, as he whose will is so utterly certain, that it is ever las●ing? If he be willing, which may anon after be unwilling: 〈◊〉 he be thought too be willing, who is of that nature that he cannot be unwilling?   

¶ The xxii Chapter.  
GO too, (sayeth he) let them do otherwise, if they can.  
This is it that thou méenest: namely, that all these things which are seuer●● 〈◊〉 way asunder, and settled 〈◊〉 places for the preservation of the whole, should forsake their standings: that the stars should rushtogither through ●oodein confusion: that the heavenly things should burst their concord and run to decay: that the exceeding violent swiftness of the skies should stand still in the mids of their race, and disappoint the interchaunges behighted for so many ages yet to come: and that the things whithe now go and come interchangeably in seasonable course, guiding the world by indifferent sway: should be burned up with sudden fire, and be quite let loose from so great varietle, and be confounded all into one. Let fire consume all things, and afterward let droopy night overwhelm the fire, and consequently let the deep Gulf of confusion swallow up so many Gods: And let all this cost be bestowed, only too disprove thee. They can yield thee these things even against thy will, and keep on their course for thy sake, howbeit that there is another greater and former cause than these.   

¶ The xxiii Chapter.  
AD further, that outward things compel not the gods: but their own everlasting will is as a law too themselves. The things that they have decreed, are such as they meant not too alter. Therefore they cannot seem to do any thing against their will. For whatsoever they cannot cease too do, that was it their will too continue. Neither doth it ever repent the gods of their first determination. Doubtless they can not both be stable, and starting too the contrary. Notwithstanding, albeit that their own power hold them in their determination: yet is not their contineweing in it, of weakness: but because it is not for them too step aside from the best things, and because they have determined so too go. At that first determination of theirs when they disposed all things, they saw our affairs also and had regard of man. Therefore they cannot seem too keep their ●ourses, and too lay out their works for their sakes alone: for even we also are a part of the work. Then are we indebted to the son, and the moon, and the other heavenly powers for their benefits, because that although they be better than the things whereintoo they shine: yet they help us too the attainment of greater things: And also, that they help us of set purpose: And therefore we be the more bound unto them. For we stumble not upon their benefits without their knowledge: but they witted well we should receive these things which we receive. And although they have some greater purpose and some greater fruit of their work, than the preservation of mortal things: yet notwithstanding, even for our wealesake also, there was a providence sent before at the first beginning of things, and there was such order established in the world, as it may appear there was no small regard had of us. we own deutifulnesse too our parents: and yet many of them matched not toogither too beget Children. The Gods cannot seem too have done they witted not what, considering how they have provided food and all other things aforehand for all men, neither begat they us unwares for whom they have created so many things. For nature minded us before she made us: and we are not so slyght a work, that we could slip from her unwares. See how much she hath permitted us, and how far man's dominion fir●t●heth further than over man only. See how far our bodies may raundge, and how Nature hath not restrained them within the bounds of any lands, but hath given them free scope into every part of hirself. See how much men's minds dare adventure, and how they only either know or seek the gods, aspiring too heavenly things, by the mind which is given too mount aloft. You may perceive how man is not an unadvised piece of work clumpered up in haste. Among the greatest works of nature, there is nothing wherein nature more glorieth, or at leastwise wherein she may more glory. How great a madness is it too quarrel with the gods for their own gifts? How will he be thankful towards those that cannot be requited without cost: who denieth himself too have received aught at their hands, which will ever give and never receive? And what a frowardness is it for a man not too think himself beholden too one, even because he is good to him that denies it; and too say that the very continuance and holding on of his goodness, is but a token that he could not otherwise do though he would? Say thou, I will none of it, let him keep it too himself, who craved it at his hand: and pack thou toogither all the words of a thankless mind: yet shall thou not therefore find the less goodness in him, whose bounteousness cometh unto thee, even while thou deniest it, and of whose benefits even this is one of the greatest, that he will give unto thee, even though thou grudgest against him.   

¶ The xxiiii Chapter.  
SEEst thou not how parents enforce the tender childhod of their children too the inurance of good & wholesome things? With heedful care do they cherish their bodies, though the children weep & strive against it. And lest untimely looseness might make them grow awry: they hind them straight too make them grow right, and anon after instruct them in liberal sciences, restraining them with fear if they be unwilling. Moreover, they frame and apply their heady youth unto thirst, shamefastness, and good manners, if they follow them not of themselves. Also when they be men grown, and have some stay of themselves, if then they reject their remedies through sheepishness or unruliness: they use force & straight keeping under. Therefore the greatest benefits that we receive of our parents, are those that we receive either unwittingly or else unwillingly.   

¶ The xxv Chapter.  
Unto these unthankful folk which refuse good turns, not because they cannot find in their hearts too have them, but because they cannot find in their hearts too be beholden for them: they be like on the contrary part, which through overmuch kindness, are wont too wish some inconvenience or adversity unto those, too whom they be most beholden, thereby too show how mindful affection they bear them for their benefit received. Wither they do this thing aright and of a good will, it is a question: sith their mind is like too theirs, who burning in 〈◊〉 love, do wish their lover banishment, too the end they might accompany her in her distress and departure: or poverty, too the end they might relieve her want: or sickness, too the end they might sit by her too tend her: and finally which under profession of love, do wish whatsoever her enemy would have wished unto her. Therefore the end of hatred and of fantic love is well-near all one. The like thing also betideth too those that wish their friends harm, too the intent that they maierid them of it, and make wa●e too benefiting by doing them wrong: whereas it were much better, even utterly too leave of, than too seek occasion of benefiting by means of wickedness. What if a master of a ship should pray the gods too send cruel storms and tempests, too the intent too make his cunning the better liked for the danger? What if the general of a field should desire the gods, that a great multitude of enemies might besiege his Camp, and with soodein violence fill up the trenches and pulldoune the rampire, and (to the great torror of his army) advance their antesignes in at the very gates, too the intent that when things were under foot and at the last cast, he himself mightmake all safe again too his own greater glory? All these convey their benefits by a cursed way, when they call the gods against him whom they themselves would succour, and desire too have him first thrown down, that they themselves might raise him up. It is an unnatural and untoward manner of kindness, too wish misfortune too such a one as a man cannot with honesty forsake.   

The xxvi Chapter.  
MY wish (sayeth he) hurteth him not because I wish the peril and the remedy both at once.  
That is as much too say, as thou art not altogether clear from offence: but thou offendest less than if thou shouldest wish him harm without help. It were but a lewd part too thrust a man into the water too the intent too pull him out again: or too throw him down, to the intent too set him at liberty. It is no benefiting too make an end of doing wrong: neither is is a point of kindness for a man too withdraw that thing from one, which he himself had laid upon him. I had liefer that thou shouldest not wound me, than that thou shouldest heal me. It is worth Godhamer●ie if thou give me a plaster because I am wounded, but not if thou wound me too give me a plaster. A man never liked too have a scar, but in comparison of the wound: and yet as well as he liketh of the closing of it, he had liefer to have been without it. If thou shouldest wish so too one that thou wart nothing behold entoo, it were an unkind wish: and much more unkind were it for too wish so unto him that hath done thee friendship.   

¶ The xxvii Chapter.  
I wish therewith (sayeth he) that I may be able too secure him. First, (for I will cut thee of in the mids of thy wish) thou art already unkind. I hear not yet what thou wouldst do for him: but I know what thou wouldst hau him suffer. Thou wishest him perplexity, fear, or some greater 〈…〉 the end he may have need of thy help. This is once against him. Thou wishest he should have need of thy help. This is for thyself. Thy meening is not too secure him, but too pay him. He that so posteth, would fain have him paid, but he would not be Paymayster himself. And so the only thing that bore a countenance of honesty in thy wish, (namely the thinking long too be out of Det) is unhonest and unfriendly. For thou wishest not that it may lie in thy lot to requite kindness: but that he may be enforced too crave thy succour. Thou makest thyself his superior, and (which is a wickedness) thou castest him down to thy feet, who hath deserved well at thy hand. Now much meete● were it too own with an honest good will, than to be discharged by evil means. Thou shouldest have offended less, if thou hadst forsworn the thing that thou haste re●eyued. For he should have lost no more but his gift. But now thou wilt have him become thy vnder●ing with the loss of his goods, and be pulled so low by the alteration of his 〈◊〉, that his own benefits must overmaster him. Shall I 〈…〉 it too his face whom thou 〈◊〉 so too pleasure. Termest thou it a kind wish, which may as well beseem a foe as a friend, and which no doubt but an 〈◊〉 and an enemy would have made, the latter points excepted? Even mortal enemies have wished 〈…〉 too the intent they might save them: & to overcome some me●, too the intent too pardon them. And yet were not such wishes' the less enemylyke, considering how the meekest part of them cometh after cruelty. Finally what manner of wishes deemest thou them to be, which noman would less too take, effect, than he unto whom thou wisshest them? Too evil do●st thou deal with him, whom thou 〈…〉 by thyself: yea and too lewdly 〈◊〉 thou with the gods, for thou puttest over the cruelty unto them, and reservest all the kindness too thyself. Too the intent that thou mayst do good, the Gods must do harm If thou shouldest suborn an accuser, and afterward remove him thyself: or if thou shouldest entangle him in some sew●e, and afterward rid him out of it: noman would doubt but thou deltest wickedly. And what skills it whither such a thing be gone about by covin or by wishing, saving that thou wisshest him overstrong adversaries? Thou canst not say, what wrong do I too him? Thy wish is either needless, or wrongful: nay rather, it is wrongful though it want success. That thou bringest it not too pass, it is God's gift: but thy wisshing of it, is plain wrong. Thou hast done enough. And we ought to be no less offended with thee, than if thou hadst brought it too full effect.   

¶ The xxviii Chapter.  
IF my prayers (sayeth he) had prevailed, they had prevailed too thy safety.  
First thou wishest me certain harm under uncertain help. And secondly, though both were certain: yet is that first, which hurteth. Besides this, the condition of thy wish is known but too thyself: asfor me I am surprised in the mean while by the tempest, and wot not whither I shall find harborough or succour. What a torment is it (trow you) too have wanted, though I happen too obtain relief? or too have been in fear, though I fortune too be saved? or too have hold up my hand at the bar, though I chance too be quit? No end of fear can be so well liked of, but that the sound and unappaired quietness should be better liked of. Wish that thou mayest be able too requite my benefit, if I should stand in need of thee: but not that I should stand in need of thee. If the thing that thou wisshest had been in thine own power, thou hadst done it thyself.   

¶ The xxix Chapter.  
HOW much more honesty is it too wish thus? I pray God continue him in such state, as he may always deal benefits, and never need too receive. Let such ability evermore follow him, as may suffice him too use bountiful pouring out and relieving, so as he may never make nice too do good, nor repent him of that he hath done. God grant that his nature which is forward of itself too all kind of courtesy, pity, and mercy, may be stirred up and provoked by the multitude of thankful persons, of whom God send him store, but yet so as he may never have need of them. I would he should be unentreatable too noman, nor have need too entreat any man. I would that fortune might persever with so equal favour towards him, as noman might be able too be thankful to him, other wise than in heart. How much more rightful are these wishes, which dri●●e thee not of too wait for occasion, but make thee thankful out of hand? For what should let thee too requite friendship to him that is in prosperity? How many things are there whereby we may requite, even towards such as have the world at will, be we never so far in their det? As for example, faithful counsel, continual attendance, gentle talk and pleasant without flattery, ears (if he be minded too ●ebate things) heedful, and (if he comunt avie thing to them) trusty, and familiar conversation. Prosperity never advanced any man so high, but he might so much the more feel the want of a friend, as he found less want of all other things.   

¶ The xxx Chapter.  
THis ●●ksomme wishing is too be banished and driven far away with heart and mind. Canst thou not be thankful, but thou must have the Gods displeased with thy friend? Or understandest thou not how thou si●●est in this behalf, that thou dealest better with him too whom thou art unkind? Let thy mind run upon imprisonment, boards, 〈…〉 b●tell and beggary. These are the occasions that thou wishest for: and they are such, as if a man have covenanted with thee, they shall save him harmless of his bond against thee. Why wouldst thou not rather have him continue in ableness and prosperity, too whom thou art so greatly beholden? for (as I said) what letteth thee too requite kindness, even towards those that are in happiest state, sith thou mayst find wherewith too do it abundantly? What? knowest thou not that men pay their debts even too the wealthy? Too the intent I strain thee not against thy will: be it so that wealthy prosperity have excluded all things: yet will I show thee what thing it is that great states have great scarceness of, and what it is that they want which are owners of all things. verily even such a one as speaketh the truth; who finding a man in a maze among flatterers, and brought too utter ignorance of the truth by very custom of harkening too pleasant things in stead of right things, reclaimeth him from the liking and allowing ●f false fellows. Seest thou not how the loss of their liberty driveth them headlong into slavish thraldom through their fo●d belief, while noman counseleth or disswadefh them as he 〈…〉 who may flatter most, and all the feru●●ablenesse and all the labour of all their friends tendeth only too this one point, namely by what means they may deceive them most pleasantly? They knew not their own strength, and therefore while they believed themselves too be as great as they were borne in hand too be, they brought upon themselves both needless wars, and such wars as did fall out to the peril of all things: they broke necessary and profitable concord: and following unrestreyned wrath, they shed the blood of many men, & at the last their own too. While they revenged untried quarrels for tried esteeming it no less dishonour too be persuaded than too be vanquished, and thought the things too be durable, which stagger then most when they be brought too the highest: they overthrew great kingdoms upon themselves and theirs: neither perceived they that upon that stage so glistering with goods that are both vain and fightfull, it stood them in hand too have looked for much adversity, specially from that time forth that they could here no truth.   

¶ The xxxi Chapter.  
AT such time as Xerxes proclaimed war against Greece, there was noman but he pricked forward his courage which of itself was puffed up and forgetful how fickle the things were that he trusted too. One said that the Greeks would never tarry the first tidings of the war, but would run away at the first brute of his arrival. Another said, there was no doubt but his huge multitude was able not only too conquer, but also too over whelm all Greece, and that it was rather too be scared, lest they should find the city's empty and desolate, so as his enemies should be fled away, and nothing be left for him but waste wilderness, wherethrough he should want whereupon too employ his so great puissance, Another bore him in hand that the whole world was s●are● wide enough for him, that 〈…〉 matter for his ships nor 〈…〉 hosts too encamp in, nor 〈◊〉 enough for his horse men too March in nor scope enough in the air too let fly the arrows & dar●es that should be sent out of all hands. When many brags had been made in this wy●e, too prick forward y● party that was already besides his wits through overweening: only Demaratus the Lacedaemonian told him, that the self-same disordered and huge multitude whereof he had so great a liking, was too be feared of him that should lead it, because it was rather combersomme than strong: for overgreat things cannot be ruled, and whatsoever cannot be ruled cannot long dure. The 〈◊〉 (said he) will encounter thee at the very foot of the Hill, and give thee a trayall of their force. Thréehundred men will hold tack against these so many thousands of people. They will stand fast upon their ground, too defend the 〈◊〉 Streigh●es, clozing them up against thee wi●h their own bodies. All Asia shall not remove them out of their place. As ●eawe as they be, they will outstand the rage of the battle, and the Brunt in manner of whole mankind rushing in upon them. When nature hath altered her order too convey thee over, thou shalt be graveled at the first step: and when thou hast cast thy cards how much the streytes of Thermopyle 〈◊〉 thee in, thou shalt be able too make an esttimate of thy further loss thereafter. Thou shalt then learn that thou mayst be vanquished, when thou shalt perceive that thou mayst be encountered. verily they will shun thee at the first, in many places, as carried away by the hugeness of some soodein watershot, whose first stream cometh gushing with great terror: but anon after they will rise whole toogither against thee on all sides, and distress thee with thine own power. The report is true that the Furniture for this war is greater than can be received of those Countries which thou purposest too assail. But this thing makes most against thee. For even therefore shall Grée●e vanquish thee, because it cannot receive thee. Thou 〈◊〉 not use thy whole force. Moreover, (which is the only safeguard of things) thou ●anst not bestir thee too prevent the first brunt of things, thou canst not succou● things at the pinch, nor relieve and strengthen them when they go too wreck. Thou shalt be vanquished a great while ere thou shalt perceive it. Thou must not thinck● 〈…〉 cannot therefore be withstood because the captain himself knows not the number of it. Nothing is so great but it may perish: and though other occasions wanted▪ yet would destruction grow unto it by it own overgreatnesse. The things that 〈◊〉 fore spoke, came too pass. 〈…〉 of all things pertaining as well too God●s 〈◊〉 man, and bore down all things that stood in his way, was stopped of his course by threehundred men. And so Xerxes being overthbrowen everywhere throughout all Gréece, understood how far 〈…〉 gave him leave too ask what he● 〈…〉 that he might enter into Sard●s the greatest city of Asia, in a chariot, with a high Cap of maintenance upon his head, which was a thing lawful for none but Kings too do. He was worthly of thereward before he sued for it. But how wretched a Nation was that, where there was noman that would tell the king the truth, saving he that told it too his own loss?   

¶ The xxxii Chapter.  
THe Emperor Augustus had banished his Daughter for steyning of her honour by the breach of her chasti●●e, and had b●azed abroad the slander of the imperial house. As how she had admitted Adulterers too her by heaps: how she had gadded over all the city, with nightrevelinges: how she had haunted the very Iudgement●our● itself with her whoredom, yea even the common ●all wherein her Father had made a law against whoredom: and how she ran daily too the Marsia, becoming of a privy adulteress, an open strumpet and seeking all liberty of licentious looseness, by dealing with unknown Adulterers. These things, which a Priuce ought sometime as well too conceal as too punish, (for the shame of some things redoundeth also too the punisher) the Emperor being unable too master his own wrath, had published abroad. Afterward when by continuance of time, remorse had succeeded in the place of ange●: then sighing that be had not suppressed those things with silence, which he had been ignorant of so long till it was a shame too speak of them, he kryed out oftentimes, none of these things had happened to me, if either Agrippa or Moec●nas had been alive. S● hard a matter was it for him that had so many thousand men, too supply the like of two. His Legins were ●●ayne, and ●yandby new were levied. His 〈…〉 seawe days after a 〈…〉 buildings, and there 〈…〉 that were burnt. But the places of Moecen●s and Agrippa were empty all his life long. What should I think? That there wanted the like of them to be taken into their rooms? or that the fault was in himself, who had rather complain, than seek? It is not too be thought that only Agrippa and Maecenas were wont too tell him the truth, who if they had been alive, should have been dissemblers as well as the rest. It is the guise of kingly natures, too praise things forepast in derogation of things present, and too attribute the virtue of truethtelling unto those, at whose hands they be past peril of hearing the truth any more.   

¶ The xxxiii Chapter.  
BUT too the end I may bring myself back again too my purpose, thou see●t how easy a matter it is too requite kindness, even towards such as are in prosperity, and settled in the siege of worldly wealth. Tell them, not what they list to here presently, but what they may like too here ever. A true saying may perhaps some time enter into the ears that be full of flatterings. Give thou sound counsel.  
Askest thou what thou mayst do for him that is in prosperity? Bring too pass that he way put no trust in his prosperity, and let him understand that the same hath need of many and faithful hands too hold it fast. Is it but a small thing that thou dost for him, if thou rid him from his fondness of believing that his good fortune shall continue always with him; and teach him that the things are movable which chance hath given him, insomuch as they fly away faster than they came, and that men retire not down again by the same greeces that they went up too the top by but [fall so headlong] that oftentimes there is no distance between chief prosperity and uttermost adversity? Thou knowest not of how great value friendship is, if thou understand not y● thou givest him a great thing, too whom thou givest a friend, a thing gezon too be found, not only in houses, but also in whole worlds, which is not any where more missing, than where it is thought most too abound. What? supposest thou that these bills which scarcely the remembrance or hands of their clerks comprehend, are the hills of their friends? These that stand in great throngs knocking at their gates, and are admitted by now some and then some, are not friends. It is an old customme of Kings and of such as counterfeit Kings, too sort out the multitude of their friends. And it is the property of pride, for a man too make great account of giving men leave too come within his house, and too think he doth men honour too let them sit at his gate, or too be the persons that shall set foot first 〈◊〉 his 〈◊〉, where●● afterward there be many m● doors too keep them out when they be come in.   

¶ T xxxiiii Chapter.  
Amongst us, the first that made any sorting of their company, by admitting some into secret familiarity, some in company of many, and othersome with all men, were Gracchus, and aftewarde Livius Dursus. These men therefore had friends of a first sort, and of a second sort, but never any of the true sort. Callest thou him a friend, that must tarry his turn ere be can salute thee? Canst thou assure thyself of his faithfulness, which entereth not in, but crowdeth in at thy gate half against thy will? May that man press unto thee with full use of his liberty, which may not 〈◊〉 God save thee, (a common rife word and ordinarily used even too the unknown) but in his turn? Therefore too whomsoe 〈◊〉 of these thou comest, whose greeting shaketh the whole city: assure thyself, that although thou find the ●ounes pestered with resort of folk, and either sides of the streets thronged with press of comers and goers: thou comest into a place replenished with people, but void of friends. A friend is too be sought in the heart, and not in the hall. From thence must he be interteyned, there must he be kept, and in the very entrails must he be lodged. Teach this, and thou art thankful. Thou haste an ill opinion of thyself, if thou canst stand in no stead but in adversity, or if thou think there is no need of thee in prosperity. According as thou behavest thyself wisely, both in doubtful fortune, and in adversity, and in prosperity, dealing in doubtful state discreetly, in adversity stoutly, and in prosperity stayedly: so mayst thou yield thyself profitable too thy friend in all respects, if thou neither abandon him in his adversity, nor wish adversity to him. In so great variety, many things will fall in by the way, and minister thee matter too woor●e thy faithfulness upon, although thou wish them not. In like manner as he that wisheth a man riches too the end too be partaker of them himself, seeketh his own avails though he seem too wish for the other: even so he that wisheth his friend any misfortune, too rid him of it by his own help and faithfulness, preferreth himself before his friend, (which is the point of an unkind person), and standeth so much upon his own reputation, that he would have his friend in misery, too the end that he himself might be thankful, and therefore in the very same respect he is unthankful. For his meening is too unload himself, and too be discharged of a 〈◊〉 burden. There is great difference whither a man's hasting too requy●e kindness, be too yield ●ne good turn for another, or because he is loath too be in det. He that mindeth too requite, will apply himself to the others commodity, and wish that there may come a convenient time for it. But he that meaneth nothing else but too be discharged, will covet too come too his purpose by any means, which is the property of a very ●●disposed mind.   

¶ The xxxv Chapter.  
SAyest thou that this overmuch hastemaking is a point of unkindness? I cannot express it more plainly, than by repeating that which I have spoken already. For Thy meening is not too requite the good turn received, but too scape from it. Thou seemest to say thus: when shall I have rid my hands of it? I must labour by all means possible, that I may not be bound to him. If thou shouldest wish too pay him of his own, thou mightest seem far wide from a thankful man: and yet is this wish of thine a greater wrong. For thou cursest him, and with thy cruel miswishing, dasshest out the brains of him whom thou ough●ell most to honour. I think there is noman that would doubt of the cruelty of thy mind, if thou shouldest wish him poverty, bondage, famine, or fear, openly. And what odds is there between wishing it in words, and wishing it in heart? For if thou be well in thy wits, thou wilt wish none of these things. Go now, and count this too be a point of thankfulness, which even the thankless person would not do, so he were not come too the hating of the party, but only too the denial of his benefit.   

¶ The xxxvi Chapter.  
WHo would call Aenaeas godly, if he would have had his country conquered, too the end he might save his Father from captivity? Who would think any natural love in the yoongmen of Sicily, if they had wished that Mount Ae●na might have broken out with abundance of fire far beyond his accustomed wont, too yield them occasion too utter their dutiful goodwill toward their parents, by varying them hastily through the mids of the fire, too the end they might leave good examples too their Children? Rome is nothing beholden to Scipio, if he wished the continuance of our wars with Africa, too the intent that he himself might make an end of them. Rome is nothing beholden too the Deciusses for saving their country by the death of themselves, if they first wished that our utter necess●● 〈◊〉 might make place for theirmost manly vow. It is the greatest shame that can be, for a physician to make work for the physician. Many that had increased the dizeazes of their Patientes or set them back, to the end too purchase themselves the more glory in curing them; oftentimes either have not been able too drive the diseases away at all, or else have martyred the poor souls in healing them.   

¶ The xxxvii Chapter.  
IT is said (for surely so reporteth Hecaton) that when Callistratus fled his country, (the seditiousenesse and unbridled liberty whereof had banished many other with him,) at what time one wished that the Athenians might have need too call home their outlaws, he misliked such manner of return. But our Rutilius dealt yet more courageously. For when one comforted him and told him that civil wars were at hand, by means whereof it would shortly come to pass, that all outlaws should return again: What harm have I done thee (quoth he) that thou shouldest wish me a worse coming home, than going out? I had liefer that my country should be ashamed of my banishment, than bewail my return. It is no banishment, whereof every man is more ashamed than the party that is banished. Like as these men performed the duty of good Citizens, in that they would not be restored to their native soil with the damage of the public weal, because it was more reason that two should be grieved unjustly, than that all should be grieved for the hurt of the Common weal: even so he observeth not the duty of a thankful person, which would have his benefactor fall into distress, too the intent that he himself might rid him out of misery. For though that man mean well, yet wisheth he ill. It is not too be defended, and much less too be commended, if a man quench a fire that he himself hath kindled. In some common weals a wicked wish hath been hold for a wicked deed.   

¶ The xxxviii Chapter.  
certes at Athens, Demades condemned one that sold buryallware, upon proof that he had wished great gain, which could not happen to him without the death of much people. Yet is it wont too be a question, whither he were justly condemned or no? For peradventure his wishing was not too sell unto many folks, but too sell at high price, and to buy the things cheap which he sold by retail. 〈◊〉 that bargaining consisteth of buying and selling: why 〈◊〉 thou his wish too the one side, whereas the gain riseth by both? Furthermore thou mayst as well condemn all other men that use the same trade of occupying: for all of them 〈◊〉 one same thing, and all of them wish one self-same thing in their hearts. Thou shal● condemn the greatest part of men. For whose gain riseth not by another man's loss? The soldier wisheth war for his own glory. Dearth of corn sets up the Husbandman. The trimmest Lawyers desire store of pleas. A contagieus' year is for the physicians advantage. Corrupt youth enricheth the milliners and Haberdashers, and all such as sell fine Wares. Let no fire nor wether appair houses, and the Carpenter may go lie down and sleep. One man's wish was caught hold on, and all men's wishes are alike. Thinkest thou that Aruntius and Aterius, and the rest that have professed the art of Executor ship, wish not the same things in their hearts, which the heralds and Mooruers do at funerals? For these know not whose deaths they wish: but the other wish the deaths of their nearest acquaintance, and of those too whom they pretend most friendship, for their goods sake. The one sort have no loss by noman's life: but if men live long, the other sort are undone. And therefore their wishing is, not only too receive that which they have earned by their filthy trade: but also too be ●●●●harged of their payments. No doubt therefore, but that they which count his life their hindrance by whose death they may have gain, go one ae beyond the other in wishing the thing that is condemned. And yet are the wishes of all such men as well known, as unpunished. Too be short, let each man examine himself, and enter into the secret of his own heart, and see there what he hath wished too himself. How many wishes are there which it is a shame for a man too be acknown of too himself? And how few be there which we may justify before witness?   

¶ The xxxix Chapter.  
YET must not every thing that is blame worthy, be by-and-by condemned: as this wish of the friend that misuseth his good will, and falleth into the vice that he shunneth, wherewith we be now in hand. For in making overmuch hast too show a thankful mind, he becomes unthankful. Let my friend fall into my danger (sayeth he): let him have need of my favour: let him not be able too maintain his welfare, honesty, and safety without me: Let him be brought too such an afterdeele, that whatsoever I do● in recompense of his former freendeship, it may be as a free benefit unto him. Let the Gods hem him in on the oneside, and let the treason of his own house hem him in on the otherside, and let me only be able too rid him out of it. Let a mighty and sore enemy assault him with a rout of his deadly foes, and not unarmed. Let his creditor and his accuser be fierce and extreme upon him.   

The xl Chapter.  
SEE how indifferently thou dealest. Thou wouldst wish none of these things unto him if he had not done thee good. Too letpasse other greevowser faults which thou committest in requi●ing evil for good, certainly thou offendest in this, that thou tarriest not the proper time of each thing: the preventing whereof is no less offence, than the not taking of it when it cometh. For like as a benefit is not too be taken at all times: so also is it not too be requited at all times. If thou shouldest render it before I have need or desire of it, thou shouldest be unthankful. And how much more unthankful than a●● thou, in compelling me too have need of it? Tarry thy tyme. Wherefore wilt thou not have my gift too rest with thee? Wherefore is it a pain to thee too be beholden to me? Wherefore dost thou haste too make an even reckoning with me, as if it were with some nipping usurer? Why seekest thou my trouble? Why settest thou the Gods against me? After what sort wouldst thou demand, that dost so requite?   

¶ The xli Chapter.  
FIrst and formest then my friend Liberalis, Let us learn too own good turns quietly, and too wait for opportunities too requite, and not too make them by force. Let us bear in mind, that this desyrousnesse of discharging one's self in post haste, is the point of a carl. For noman is willing too requite that which he is unwilling too owe. look what he is loath too have too rest with him, he d●emeth it a burden, and not a benefit. How much better and more rightful is it too bear the deserts of our friends in remembrance, and too offer them kindness, but not too threape it upon them, nor too think ourselves too much in their det? Forasmuch then as a benefice is a comonbond, and linketh cupples toogither: say thou thus. I will not be against it that thine own should return unto thee: my desire is that thou mayest have it again cheerfully: if any of us both be overtaken with necessity, so as it falls out by some destiny, that either thou must be fain too receive thy good turn again, or I be feign too take another at thy hand: let him give still that was wont afore. I am ready: there is no let in Turnus: I will show this my willing mind assoon as time serveth: In the mean while let the gods be my witnesses.   

¶ The xlii Chapter.  
MY Liberalis, I am wont too mark this affection in thee, and as it were too grope it with my hand; that thou fearest and frettest, lest thou shouldest be too flow in any kind of courtesy. It beseemeth not a thankful mind too have any careful misconceyt against the assured confidence of itself. For the conscience of true love is quite rid of all carefulness. It is as great a reproach too receive that which thou oughtest not, as not too give that which thou oughtest. Let the first bestower of a benefit have always this prerogative: That he may as well choose his time too receive, as he chose too bestow. But I am afraid (sayest thou) lest men will misreport me. He dealeth evil, which is thankful for reports sake; and not for conscience sake. Thou hast two judges of this case: Him, whom thou mayest deceive: and thyself, whom th●● 〈◊〉 not deceive.  
Then what if no occasion happen? shall I be in his det ever?  
Yea, ever: and that openly, and gladly, and thou must take great pleasure too behold his gage laid up with thee. It repenteth that man of the taking of a benefit, whom it grieveth that he hath not yet requited it. Why shouldest thou think him unworthy too have thee long his debtor, at whose hand thou couldst find in thy heart too take a good turn?   

¶ The xliii Chapter.  
THey ●ée very far everséene, which think it the property of a noble heart, too lay out, too give, or too fill the bosoms and howls of many men; when as oftentimes it is 〈…〉, but a great ability that doth these things. They know not how much it is a greater and harder matter at some time, too take, than too pour out. For too the intent I may 〈◊〉 neither of them, for asmucheas either of them is others 〈◊〉, as long as it is doo●e virtuously: (I say) it is no less property of a noble heart too own a benefit, than too bestow one. But yet so much the more laborsomme is this than the other as the keeping of things received requireth more heedfulness, than doth the giving of them. Therefore we must not stand in fear lest we should not requite soon enough, nor make haste too do it out of season. For even as much offendeth he that hasteth too requite kindness out of due time, as he that requyteth not in due season. It is laye● up with m●e for him. Neither in his behalf, nor in mine own, am I afraid. He hath provided well for himself. For he cannot lose this good turn but with the loss of me, no nor with the loss of me neither. I have thanked him, and that is as much too say as I have requited. He that mindeth the requyting of a benefit too much, imagineth the other too mind the receiving of it too much. Let a man yield himself easy both ways. If he be willing too take the return of his benefit, let us render it and requite it cheerfully. But if he had liefer have it too remain still in our keeping: Why should we throw his treasure out of doors? Why refuse we too be his storers? He is worthy too have his own choice. Assor opinion and report, let us so esteem of them▪ as of things that should wait upon us, and not lead us.  
The end of the sixth book.    

The seventh and last book of Lucius Annaeus Seneca, concerning benefits.  

¶ The first chapter.  
MY Liberalis, take a good heart to thee, even in the bottom of hell.  
I will not here withhold thee long, I will not beat about  
The bush, nor yet with Windlasses suspend thee long in doubt.  
This book is but a packet of loose remnants. Now that I have spent my stuff, I look about me, not what I have too say, but what I have not said. Notwhstanding, thou must take in good worth whatsoever is of overplus, seeing the overplus is for thy sake. If I had meant too set myself too sale, this work should have gowen by little and little▪ and that part of it should have been reserved too come last, which every man would have desired even though he had been glutted. Whatsoever was most needful, that have I conveyed into the first beginning. If any thing have escaped me, that do I now gather up. And in good faith, seeing that the things which direct men's manners are spoken of already: If ye should examine me upon my conscience, I think it not greatly too the purpose, too pursue the rest, which are invented, not for amendment of life, but for exercise of wit. For 〈◊〉 was excellently said of doggish Demetrius (a man in mine opinion right excellent, even though he were compared to the excellentest) that it is more worth for a man too know a few Rules of Wisdomme, so he bear them in remembrance and practise them: than if he learn never so many, and have them not ready at hand. For (sayeth he) like as that man is a great Wrestler, not which hath learned all ●●●ckes and ●●eyghtes, (which he shall seldom have occasion too put in ●re against his 〈◊〉) but which hath well and diligently practised himself in some one or two, and watcheth earnestly too take the advantage of them: (for it skills not how few things he know, so he know enough too get the mastery:) even so in this kind of study, there be many things that delight, but few that profit. Although thou know not the reason why the main Sea doth ebb and flow: or why every seventh year imprinteth a sig●e upon man's age: or why the wideness of a church keepeth not his full proportion in the view of them that behold it a far of, but gathereth his ends or sides into a narrowness, so as the tops of the Pillars and pinnacles grow into one: or what it is that separateth the conception of twins and joineth their birth; whither one companying of the parents be dispersed into twain, or whither the two be begotten at two several times: or why those that be borne at one burden have sundry destinies, and whereas there is small distance or none betwixt their births, yet they have as great difference as may be in their lives: It is no great harm to thee too let such things pass, which are neither possible nor profitable too be known. Tee truth lieth wrapped up toogither aloft. Yet have we no cause too blame Nature of unkindness: for nothing is uneasy too be found, save such as when they be found, yield us no further fruit than the only finding of them. But whatsoever may make us both better and more blessed, that hath nature set either open to us, or near at ha●d too us. If the mind can despise casualties: if it raundge not into endless desires through covetous hope, but have learned too seek her riches in hirself. if it have shaken of the slavish fear of Gods and men, and know that men are not too be feared much, and GOD nothing at all: if it despise all those things wherewith the life is Racked while it is decked with them, and be come too that point that he manifestly perceiveth death too be the cause of no evil, but the end of many evils: if a man have unwed his mind unto virtue, and count the way plain whithersoever she calleth: if he be a fellowly wight, and (as one borne too the behoof of all men) esteem the whole world but as one household: if he lay his conscience open before the Gods, & live continually as if all men behild him, standing more in awe of himself than of othermen: he hath withdrawn himself from all storms, and is harbroughed in the calm and sewer haven: he hath attained too the necessary and profitable knowledge. The residue be but pleasures too pass away idle tyme. For when a man hath once withdrawn his mind into safety, he may then also start out into these things, which garnish men's wits but strengthen them not.   

¶ The second Chapter.  
THese are the things which our friend Demetrius willeth him that mindeth his own profit too take hold on with both his hands, and never too let them go, but rather too fasten them too him, and too make them part of himself, and too proceed so far by daily minding of them, that wholsomme things may meet him of their own accord, and everywhere be straight ready at hand with a wish, and that the distinction of honest▪ and shameful may come too his mind without tarriance, assuring himself that nothing is evil but that which is unhonest, nor any thing good but that which is honest. Let this be his Rule too order his doings by: let this be his law too do and demand all things by▪ and let him count those too be the miserablest of all men, (glister they never so much in riches) which are given too the belly and the bed, whose mind is sotted in lazy idleness. Let him say too himself, Pleasure is frail and short: soon weary of the things whereon it worketh: the gredilyer it is haled in, the sooner it turneth too grief: it is always of necessity accompanied either with repentance, or with shame: and there is nothing in it either noble or beseeming the nature of man which resembleth the gods. It is a ba●e thing, proceeding from the servis of the shameful and vile members, and in the end filthy. The pleasure that is meet for a man, yea and for a manly man, is not the examining and pampering of the body, nor the stirring up of the lusts which do least harm when they be most at rest: but too be void of unquietness of mind, as well of that sort which the ambitiousenesse of men provoketh when they quarrel among themselves, as of that sort which cometh of intolerable loftiness, when we deem of the Gods by report of fame, and esteem them as sinful as ourselves. This pleasure which is always alike, always void of fear, and shall never be weary of itself, doth the man enjoy whom we frame; who being (as ye would say) most skilful both of God's law and man's law, taketh fruition of the things present, and hangeth not upon that which is too come. For he that yieldeth too uncerteinties, hath never avie firmness. Therefore being rid of great cares, and such as rack the mind in pieces, he hopeth for nothing, he coveteth nothing, neither putteth he himself upon uncerteinties, but is content with his own. And thou must not imagine that he is contented with a little, for all things are his. howbeit, not so as they were Alexander's, who, even when he was come too the Shore of the Red Sea, wanted more than he left behind h●m from whence he came. Surely they were not his: no not even the things that he possessed and had conquered. When Onesicritus the admiral of his fleet was sent before him, to rove abroad in the Ocean like a pirate too seek new wars in an unknown Sea: did it not sufficiently appear that he was poor, seeing he advanced his wars without the bounds of nature, and thrust himself headlong into a Sea of huge depth, of unmeasurable wydnes, and unsearched afore, only for blind covetousness? What matter makes it how many realms he wa● by force: how many kingdoms he gave away, or how many Countries he brought under tribute? Look how much he coveted, so much he wanted.   

¶ The third Chapter.  
AND this is not the fault of Alexander alone, whom lucky rashness drove beyond the steps of Liber and Hercules: but it is the fault of all such as fortune hath made eager by overfilling them. Look upon Cyrus and Cambyses, and upon all the whole pedigree of the Persian Kings through out: and which of them shalt thou find satisfied with the largeness of his Empire, or that finished not his life in the purpose of proceeding still further and further? And no wonder at al. For whatsoever covetousness catcheth hold on, he swalloweth it down and devoureth it quite: and it makes no matter how much a man cast into a thing that cannot be filled. The wise man is the only he that is owner of all things, & they put him not too any trouble in the keeping. He hath no ambassadors too send beyond the Sea, nor tents too be pitched in the Marches of his enemies. He hath no need of Garrisons too be placed in convenient Fortresses, he hath no need of Legions nor bands of Horsemen. Like as the gods immortal do govern their kingdom, and maintain their state aloft in quietness, without Armour: even so the wiseman performeth his duty without trubblesomnesse, though he have never so much too do. And being himself the mightiest and best, he seeth all men else too be underneath him. As much as thou scornest it, yet is it the property of a right high courage, for a man (when he hath viewed [the whole world] from East too West by sight of mind, which pierceth even the furthest things and such as are for●lozed with wildernesses, and hath behild the infinite number of living Creatures and the great abundance of other things, which nature hath most bountifully powered out) too utter this saying meet for GOD▪ All these things are mine. So cometh it too pass, that he coveteth nothing, because there cannot be any more than all.   

¶ The four Chapter.  
THis is it (sayest thou) that I wished for: I have thee at advantage. I will see how thou canst rid thyself out of these snares whereintoo thou art fallen by thine own seeking. Tell me how a man may give any thing to a wise man, if all things be a wise man's? For the same thing that is given him, is his own already. Therefore a benefit cannot be bestowed upon a wise man, because that whatsoever is given too a wise man, is but a pig of his own sow. But you say that a giift may be given too a wise man. Thesame question demand I also concerning friends, you say, all things are common among them: Ergo no man can give his friend any thing, for his friend hath as good interest in them, as he himself.  
Nothing letteth, but that a thing may be both a wisemannes, and also his that possesseth it, to whom the gift and assignment of it belongeth. I say that all things are a wisemannes, howbeit in suchewise, as every man nevertheless hath his peculiar ownershippe in the thing that is his. By the civil law, all things are the Kings. And yet the same things whereof the universal possession pertaineth too the King, are left too several owners, and every thing hath his peculiar proprietary. Therefore we may give the King, both House, and villains, and Monnie, and yet not be said too give him of his own goods. For the prerogative of all things belongeth too Kings, and the property too each several person. We term it the territory of Athens, or Campaine, which otherwise the neighbour's part among themselves by private bounds: and yet is all the whole territory belonging either too the one common weal, or too the other, and afterward each parcel remaineth too his several owner. Therefore I may give my lands too the Comonweale, although it he said too belong too the same, because they be the common weals in one respect, and mine in another. Is there any doubt but a bondman, and all that he hath is his Lords? Yet may he give his Lord a present. For the Bondman hath not therefore nothing because he should have nothing if his landlord lifted. Neither is it therefore the less a gift, when he hath presented it willingly, because it might have been taken from him whither he would or no. What should we stand proving of all things? For it is already agreed betwixt us, that all things are a wisemannes. Let us gather that which is in question: namely how there may remain matter of liberality towards him, whom we have granted too be owner of all things. All things that Children possess, are their Fathers: and yet who knoweth not that the son may give somewhat too the Father? All things are the gods: yet offer we gifts too the gods, and cast offerings into their box. That which I have is not therefore none of mine, because mine is thine: For it may so happen that one self same thing may be both mine & thine.  
He (sayest thou) that is owner of common harlots, is a bawd: but a wise man is owner of all things, and among all things are also common harlots: Ergo a wise man is a bawd By the same reason they bar a wise man from buying. For (say they) no man buyeth his own goods: but all things are a wise man's: Ergo a wise man buyeth nothing. So do they also bar him from borrowing, because no man payeth interest for his own Monney. Innumerable are the things that they quarrel about, whereas they understand well enough what our meaning is.   

¶ The .v. Chapter.  
TOO be flat with you, I uphold that all things are a wise man's, in such wise as every man hath nevertheless his proper ownership in his own goods: Like as in a good monarchy, the King possesseth all things by way of sovereignty, and each ma● severally by way of property. A time will come to pro●e this matter. In the mean while it is enough too this question, that I may give a wise man that thing, which in diverse respects is both his and mine. And it is no marvel that somewhat may be given to him that is owner of the whole. Put● the case I have hired a farm of thee. Herein, somewhat is thine, and somewhat is mine. The thing itself is thine, and the occupying of it is mine. Therefore thou shalt not meddle with the fruits, without thy Fermours leave, though they grow upon thine own ground. And if there come a dearth of corn, or a time of Famine, yet shall it not boot thee (alas) too behold his great store, that groweth upon thine own ground, that is laid up in thine own Bernes, and that shall go into thine own Garners. Thou shalt not enter into my farm, though thou be Lord of it, nor take away thy Bondman that is my hired servant. For I will fetch him from thee again, if I have paid for him, and thou shalt accept it as a courtesy, if I give thee leave too ride in thine own waggon. Thus thou seest, that a man may receive a friendly turn, in receiving his own goods.   

¶ The vi Chapter.  
IN all these things which I have rehearsed, both the parties are owners of one self thing. How so? Because the one is owner of the very thing, and the other is owner of the use or occupying of it. We say these books are Cicero's: and Dorus the Bookeseller saith they be his: and both be true. The one challengeth them as author of them, and the other as his wares; and so are they rightly said too be the books of either of them. For they be so, howbeit not after one manner. So may Titus Livius take of gift, or buy his own books of Dorus. I may give a wiseman that which in severalitie is mine, though otherwise all things be his. For seeing that he possesseth all things in common like as Princes do, and yet nevertheless the property of things is dispersed too every person in several: he may both take a good turn, and own one, and also both buy and hire. The Emperor hath all things, and yet none but his private goods, and peculiar revenues do come too his Exchequer. All things in the Empire are his: and yet properly he hath no more of his own, but his peculiar heritage. What is his, and what is not his without impeachement of his Empire, that is the question. For even that which is given away from him by verdict as none of his, is his again in another respect. So likewise, in mind a wiseman is owner of all things: and by law & possession, he oweth but his proper and private goods.   

¶ The vii Chapter.  
BY such manner of reasoning, Bion was wont too gather, sometime that all men were church-robbers, and some time that noon were so. When he minded too put them all too their nek●erse, He reasoned thus. Whosoever hath stolen aught that pertained too the Gods, or spent it, or turned the same too his own use, is a churchrobber. But all things pertain too the gods: Therefore whatsoeverthing a man taketh away, he taketh it from the gods, forasmuch as all things are theirs: Ergo whosoever taketh away any thing, is a Churchrobber. again when he would have Churches broken up, and the Capitol spoiled, he would say there was no Churchrobberie committed, because that whatsoever is taken out of one place that perceived too the gods, the same is conveyed into another place that pertaineth too the Gods like wise. Hear it is too be answered, that all things in deed are the gods, but not that all things are dedicated too the gods: and that Churchrobbing is in those things that Religion hath dedicated unto God. So say we that the whole world is the temple of the gods immortal, alonely beseeming their greatness and majesty: and yet notwithstanding we say there is a difference between holy and unholy, and that it is not lawful too do all those things in the nooks that we term by the name of Churches or chapels, which are lawful too be done under the open sky and in the sight of the stars. A Churchrobber cannot do any harm unto God, whom his own God head hath set out of man's reach, but yet is he punished, because he hath done it as it were too God. The opinion of us and of the offender h●mself bindeth him too punishment. Therefore look in what manner he that taketh away any hallowed thing seemeth a Churchrobber, although the thing that he hath stolen (carry it whither he will) remaineth still within the bounds of the world: after the same manner also may theft be committed against a wise man. For there is somewhat conveyed from him, not as he is owner of things in universal, but as he is entitled to them in particular, and as they belong unto him in several. That other ownership he will acknowledge: But asfor this, he would not have it though he might, but would burst out into this saying which the Roman grand captain did cast forth, when it was decreed, that for his prowess and his good servis to the common wealth, he should have as much land given him as he could plough about in one day. You have no need (quoth he) of any such Citizen, as hath need of more than one Citizens living. How much more honour (think you) was it for that man too refuse so great a reward, than too have deserved it? For many captains have removed the bounds of other men, but never any did set bounds too himself.   

¶ The viii Chapter.  
THerefore when we behold how the wysemannes' mind overmaystreth all things and passeth through all things: we say all things are his. And if the case require that he must be taxed by the paul too this ordinary right: there is great difference whither his ownership be too be esteemed by his mind and by his own greatness, or by his substance. Too have all these things whereof thou speakest, it would loath him. I will not tell thee of Socrates, Chrysippus, Zeno, and other Philosophers that were great in deed, howbeit so much the greater, because envy withstandeth not the praise of those of old tyme. A little afore, I spoke of Demetrius, w●om nature seemeth to have bred in our days, of purpose too show how he was the man that neither could be corrupted by us, nor we corrected by him: a man (though he himself would not be acknown of it) of perfect wisdom and assured constanc●e in such things as he had purposed: yea and of such eloquence▪ as was most seemly for stout matters, not too gay nor too precise in terms, but setting forth his matters with great courage, according as the earnestness of his case occasioned him. I doubt 〈◊〉 but the heavenly providence gave him such life and such ability of utterance, too the intent there should not want either example, or reproach to our age.   

¶ The ix Chapter.  
IF some one of the gods would give Demetrius the possession of all things in this world, upon condition that he should not give aught away: I dare abide by it he would refuse them, and would say: I will not bind myself too so undischargeable a burden, nor caste ●his uncombered heart of mine into that sink of things. Why presentest thou me with the mischiefs of all people, which I would not receive, no not even too give away, because I see many things that are not comely for me too give? Set thou forth in my sight, the things that blere the eyes of whole Nations and Kings. Let me see the things for which m●n ●ell their lives, and their souls. Say before me the chief things whereof riot vaunteth: choose whither thou wilt unfold them in order one after another; or (which is better) deliver them in one gross somme together. I see roofs of houses cunningly wrought with curious devices, and shells of base and most vile and sluggish beasts, bought at exessive prices, wherein the self same variety that delighteth, is made of counterfeit colours, according too the likeness of the things themselves. I see there tables, and a piece of wood valued at an aldermannes' substance, ●ounted so much the preciouser, as the warrinesse of the Tree hath writhed it into more knurres. I see there crystal glasses the brittleness whereof advanceth their estimation. For among the unskilful, even the very dangerousness of things which should cause them too be eschewed, makes them too be the better beliked. I see cups of myrrh, as who would say that Riot were not costly enough of itself, except they made them great Boulles of jewels, too quaff up that thing one to another, which they should be feign anon after too vomit out again. I see Per●es more than one alone fitted too each ear (for now women's cares are enured too carry burdens): and they be linked together by cupples, with a third hanging under them both. men ha● not been subject enough to women's madness, if they had not hanged two or three men's substances at either of their ears. I see silken garments, if at leastwise a man may term them garments, in which there is nothing whereby either the body or womanhod may be garnished: which when a woman hath put on, she may safely swear she is little better than stark naked. And these things are fetched at great prizes by traffic, even from unknown Nations, too the end that our Ladies should not discover much more of their bodies too their paramours in their Chambers, than they show openly too all men in the ●●reetes.   

¶ The ten Chapter.  
WHat prevailest thou O covetousness? How many things are there which in value surmount thy gold? All the things that I have spoken of, are of more estimation, and of greater price. Now will I peruse thy riches, I mean the plates of both the metals, at the sight whereof our covetousness dazzleth. In good sooth, the earth (which hath laid forth whatsoever may be for our behoof) hath delved these things deep, and sunken them into the ground, yea, and she lieth upon them with all her whole might, as upon noisome things that could not come abroad, but too the hurt of all Nations. And lest there should want either instrument, or reward of manslaughter: I see iron fetched forth of the same caves, that gold and silver are digged out of. Yet have these things some substantial matter in them: there is somewhat in them that may cause the mind too be led by the error of the eyes. But I see there patents, Indentures, and Obligations, which are but empty Images of greediness, and a certain shadow of eager covetousness, serving too beguile the mind, that delighteth in opinion of vain things. For what are these things? What is interest? What are Journalles or Dayebookes? What is usury, but names of man's covetousness, which Nature, is not acquainted with? I could find fault with Nature, that she hid not gold and silver further out of reach, and that she laid not a greater weight upon them than could have been removed. What are the●e conveyances in writing? What are these Reckeninges, and the sale of time, and these bloody hundredthes? Verily they be wilful mischiefs, grounded upon our own constitutions, wherein there is not any thing that can be discerned by eye, or hold with hand: dreams they be of vain covetousness. O wretch whosoever he is, that delighteth too have a great inventory of substance, or large demeans too be Tilled by Bondmen, or infinite herds and flocks that may require whole Countries and realms too feed them, or a household greater than some Warlike Nations; or private buildings, exceeding the wideness of good great towns. When he hath thoroughly viewed these things, whereby he hath laid forth and spread out his riches and made himself proud: if he compare that which he hath, too that which he coveteth: he is but a poor man. Let me go, and restore me again too those riches of mine own. I know the kingdo●e of wisdom too be both great and dangerless: I will have all things in such wise, as all men may nevertheless have their own property in them.   

¶ The xi Chapter.  
WHerefore when Caesar proffered the same Demetrius two hundred talents, he smiled and forsook them: not deeming it too be a some of such value, as the refuzall thereof were woor●he the boasling of. O GOD how silly a some was that, either too honour or corrupt so noble a mind withal? For I must needs yield so singular a man his due commendation. I have herd a great thing reported of him: That when he had wondered at the lack of discretion of Caius Caesar for imagining that so small a matter could have altered him, he said thus: if he had meant to try me, he should have tempted me with his whole Empire.   

¶ The xxii Chapter.  
THen may somewhat be given too the wise man, though all things be his. Likewise there is no let but that somewhat may be given too a friend, though we say that all things be common among friends. For I have not things after such sort in common with my friend▪ as with a partner, so as my part and his should be both one: but in such wise as Children are common too the Father and the mother: who having two betwixt them, have not each of them one, but two a piece. First of all I will bring too pass, that this man (whatsoever he is that chalendgeth copartnership with me) shall understand, he hath nothing in common with me. Whyso? Because this kind of intercomoning is only among wisemen, between whom there is also friendship. The rest are no more friends, than they be coparteners. again, things may be common diverse ways. Things belonging too the degree of Knighthod are common too all knights of Rome: and yet if I have taken a place in sitting, the same is properly mine own: and if I depart with it too some other knight, although I depart with a thing that is ours in common, yet seem I to have given him somewhat. Some things are common too men upon certain conditions. As, I have a place among the knights: not too sell it, not too let it out, not too dwell upon it: but too sit and see things. And therefore if I come into the Theatre when the knights places be all full furnished and can have no room because the place is taken up afore, by those that have as good right in it as I: I shall make no lie though I say still that I have a place among the knights, because I have right too a place there, and because I have privilege too sit there. Think thou that the case standeth in like wise among friends. Whatsoever our friend hath, is common unto us: and yet is the propriety of it his that possesseth it: and therefore may I not occupy it against his will.  
Thou mockest me, sayest thou. For if the thing that is my friends be mine: is it not lawful for me too sell it? No. For thou mayst not sell the rights of Knighthod, and yet are they common to thee with the residue of the same order. It is not a proof that a thing should not be thine because thou canst not sell it, or because thou mayst not spend it, or because thou mayst not change it for better or for worse. For that is thine also, which is thine upon any condition: and although I receive such a thing of thee, yet haste thou it still nevertheless.   

¶ The xiii Chapter.  
LET me not hold thee too long. A benefit itself cannot be greater or smaller: but the things whereby a benefit or good turn is performed, may be greater or lesser: and the things wherein good will showeth itself, mae be more or feawer: & so it may food itself, according as lovers are wont too do, whose store of kisses and straight embracings, do exercise love, but not increase it. This question also that ensueth, is discussed in the premises: and therefore it shallbe touched but lightly. For the arguments that are applied unto the other things, may also be drawn unto this. The question is, whither he that hath done all things towards the requyting of a benefit, have requited it or no. Too the intent (sayeth he) that you may know he hath not requited: he did all that he could too requite. Whereby it appeareth that the thing is not doo●e which he wanted occasion to do. For that man can not be said too have paid a piece of monnie, who hath everywhere sought his creditor too pay him, and could not find him. Some things are of that sort, that they require a performance in deed: and in some things it is as much too have done what a man could, as too have performed the very deed in effect. If a physician have done all that he could too heal, he hath done his part. If an Orator have used as much cunning as could be, he is too be counted eloquent though his clients' case be overthrown. Though a general or a Cap●eine be overcome: yet are they worthy of commendations, if they have not wanted diligence, nor prowess. He hath done what he might too requite thy good turn, and he could not for thy great good hap. Nothing could happen more hard too the trial of true friendship. He could not reward a man of wealth, he could not tend a man in health, he could no● relieve a man in prosperity. Yet hath he requited, though thou have received no benefit at his hand. For he that hath always bend himself thereunto, waiting opportunity for the same, and employing great care and diligence there abouts: hath done more in effect; than he whose luck it was too requite betimes.   

¶ The xiiii Chapter.  
THE* example of the debtor is unlike, inasmuch as it is not enough for him too have sought his Creditor, unless he have paid him his money. For in that case the cruel creditor standeth over his head, who will take the advantage of his day. But in this case thou art matched with a most courteous creditor, who perceiving how thou trottest up and down careful and unquiet, will say: away with this care out of thy heart: cease too be so earnest too thine own trouble. I have all of thee. Thou doest me wrong, if thou think I seek any more at thy hand. Thy good will is come unto me too the full.  
But tell me (saith he) wouldst thou say that he hath requited a benefit, which hath requited none otherwise than so? By this reckoning, he that hath requited, and he that hath not requited should be all one.  
Well: then set this against it. If he had forgotten the benefit that he received, or if he had not once proffered too be thankful: thou wouldst deny him too have requited. But this man hath wearied himself day and night, and neglected all other duties, yielding himself wholly too this one, and waiting narrowly that no occasion might escape him. Now then, shall the case be all one as well of him that never had any care of requiting, as of him that never left seeking how too do it? Thou doest me wrong if thou challenge the deed at my hand, when thou seest I wanted no will too do it. Too be short, put the case thou wart taken prisoner, and that I having laid all my goods too gauge too my creditor, too make money for thy rauns●mme, do sa●le 〈◊〉 sore Winter by coasts all laid with pirates, and therewith all do pass through all peril, that the sea can yield beside the annoyances which it hath of it own, and that afterward having journeyed through many deserts, and coming at length too the same searovers which all other men shunned and I sought, I find thee ransomed already by another man: wilt thou deny me too have requited kindness? Furthermore, if in that voyage of mine, I lose the Monney by shipwreck which I had made too do thee good with, yea, or if I fall into captivity myself, while I seek too rid thee out of captivity: wilt thou deny me too have requited thy kindness? Truly, the Athenians call Harmodius and Aristogiton Tyrantquellers: And Mutiussis leaving of his hand upon the Altar of the enemy, was asmuch as if he had slain Porsena: and valiantness that wrestleth against Fortune, doth always get the upper hand, though she bring not the work of her purpose to effect. He that hath pursued occasions flying from him, and ever hunted after new, whereby he might requite kindness: hath performed more than he whom speedy opportunity hath made thankful at the first push, without painestaking.   

¶ T xu Chapter.  
THy benefactor) sayeth he) hath yielded thee two things: namely his Will and his deed: and therefore thou owest him two things likewise. Worthily Mightest thou say this to him that hath yielded thee an idle will. But thou canst not say it unto him, that both is willing and also endeavoureth, leaving nothing unassayed: for he hath performed both the parts, as muchas in him lieth. Again, it is not always required that number should be ma●ched with number. For some one thing is worth twain. Therefore so forward a will and so desirous to requite, standeth in stead of the deed doing. But if the will without the deededooing be not available too requite kindness: then is noman thankful to God, upon whom nothing is bestowed but the will. toward the Gods (sayeth he) we can perform nothing else but our will. Well then, if I be able too render nothing else unto the same man also whom I own a good turn unto: why should I not be thankful in yielding that thing too a man, than which I can bestow no greater upon the Gods?   

¶ The xvi Chapter.  
YET thou demandest what I think of the matter: and thou wilt have me too shape thee a full answer. I say, let the one thin● his good turn requited: and let the other assure himself he hath not requited. Let the giver hold the receiver discharged, and let the receiver acknowledge himself bound still. Let the one say, I have it: and let the other say I own it. In all matters of controversy let us ever set the welfare of both parties before us. The unthankful must be shut out from all excuses whereunto they might have recourse too colour their wrangling withal. I have done all that might be. Yea and do so still. What? Thinkest thou our Aunceters' were so unwise, that they understood it not too be utter wrong, too have put no difference between him that hath wasted away the Monnie that he hath borrowed, in whoredom or at dice: and him that hath lost both his own goods and other men's too, by fire or by Robbing, or by some other heavier misfortune? And yet too the intent that men should know, that faithfulness was in any wise to be performed, they admitted none excuse at all. For it were better that a few should be put even from their just excuse, than that all should pretend some excuse or other. Thou hast done what thou couldst too requite. Let him accept it as sufficient, but think thou it too little. For like as if he can find in his heart too pass over thine ●arnest and diligent endeavour unregarded, he is unworthy too be requited with kindness: even so also art thou a very churl, if thou on the otherside, in respect that he accepteth thy good will for payment, be not so much the more willingly beholden to him because thou art released. Thou must not catch hold of it, nor call witness upon it: but thou must seek occasion nevertheless too requy●e. Requite the one because he claimeth it and the other because he releaseth thee. Requite the one because he is evil, and the other because he is not evil. And therefore there is no cause why thou shouldest think thyself too have any interest in this question, namely whither a man that hath received a benefit of a wiseman, ought too requite it him if he cease too be a wiseman, and is become an evil man. For thou oughtest too redeliver the gage that thou haste taken of a wiseman, yea and too discharge thycredit too an evil man: and why shouldest thou not also requite his good turn? Because he is changed, shall he change thee? What if thou hadst taken a thing of a man in health? shouldest thou not restore it too him if he were sick? We aught always too bear more with our friends weakness, than that comes to. Surely such a man is sick in mind: let him be helped, let him be borne withal. For folly is a disease of the mind. Too the end that this may be the better understood, I think it good too make a distinction.   

¶ The xvii Chapter.  
THere are too kinds of benefits or good turns. The one a perfect and true benefit, which cannot be given but by a wiseman and too a wiseman: The other a vulgar and common benefit, whereof the intercourse is among us that have no skill. Asfor this latter, there is no doubt but I ought too requite it too him that I own it, whatsoever he is, whither he be become a murderer, a thief, or an adulterer. Felonies have their laws: and judgement will better redress such caces than unthankfulness. Let noman make thee evil, because he is evil. Upon an evil man I will cast away a good turn: and unto a good man I will render it. So will I requite the good man, because I own it: and the evil man, because I would not be in his det.   

¶ The xviii Chapter.  
OF the other kind of benefit, there is some doubt: as that if I could not take it but being wise, neither could I render it but too one that continued wise. For put the case I render: yet cannot he receive it, because he is not master of himself in this behalf, but hath foregone the knowledge how too use it. It is all one as if ye should bid me, strike the ball back too a maimed hand. It is a folly too give a man the thing that he cannot take.  
That I may begin too answer thee from this last point: I will not give him that which he cannot take, but I will restore though he cannot receive it. For I can bind no man but him that taketh: but I may discharge myself, if I do but only deliver. What if he cannot use it? Let him look too that. The fault shallbe in him, and not in me.   

¶ The xix Chapter.  
TOO redeliver (saith he) is too deliver again too such a one as shall receive. For what if you own a man Wine, and he hid you power it into a Racket or a Sine? Will you say you have delivered it again? Or will you deliver that again, which shallbe spilled betwixt you in delivering?  
Too redeliver, repay, re●der, or restore, is too yield again the thing that a man owes, unto him that hath interest in it, when he listeth too have it. And that is the only thing too be performed on my behalf. Too own him the keeping of the thing when he hath taken it again of me, that is now a further charge. I own him the performance of it, but not the keeping of it: And I had much liefer that he should so go it, than that I should not restore it. I must pair my 〈◊〉 that which I have had of him, though he will go● w●●h it by and by into the stews. Although he would send me a harlot too receive it, yet should I pay it him: and albeit it that he would put the money that he receiveth of me into his loose bosom, yet shall I pay it. For I must yield it again: but when I have once yielded it, I am not bound too stand still too the keeping and saving of it. I am bound too keep his benefit while it is in my hand unrestored. As long as it is with me, reason would I should save it. But if it be called for, it must be delivered though it should be spilled in the hands of the receiver. I will render it too a good man, when it shallbe expedient for him: and too an evil man when he calleth for it.  
Thou canst not (saith he) render him his benefit after such fort as thou receinedest it. For thou receivest it of a wiseman, and thou renderest it too a fool.  
I render now unto him, in such wise as he is now able too receive: and it is not made the worse by me, but by him: and therefore I will restore that which I have received. Look too whom I would render such a manner of benefit as I received, if he came too wisdom again to him will I (as long as he is evil) render such a one as he can receive. But (saith he) what if he be become, not only evil, but also 〈◊〉 and outrageous, as Appol●odorus and Phalaris were? Will th●● also render too such a one the benefit that thou receivest of him?  
Nature suffers not so great an al●●●ation in a wiseman. For in falling from the best too the worst, it cannot be but some prints of goodness must remain in him, even when he is become evil. Vertewe is never so utterly wiped out, but that she leaveth some furer marks in the mind, than any change can scrape quite and clean out. When the wild beasts that have been brought up among us, do break away into the woods, they keep still some part of their former tameness: and look how much they be wilder than the tamest beasts, so much are they tamer than the wildest beasts, and such as never were used too man's hand. No man that ever stack unto wisdom, hath fallen into extreme wickedness. He is died of a deeper hew, than may be utterly washed out, or altered quite into another colour. Again I demanded of thee, whither this wild man be become so too himself only, or whither his woodness bursteth out too the hurt of all the common weal? For thou tellest me of Apollodorus and Phalaris the tyrant, whose nature if a man have, and keep his naughtiness too himself, why should I not render such a one his benefit, too the end I may quite and clean rid my hands of him for ever? But if he not only delight and take pleasure in man's blood, but also execureth unsatiable cruelty in murdering folk of all ages, and rage not for anger, but of a certain geeedinesse 〈◊〉 be cruel: If he cut the throats of children before their parents faces: if he be not contented with simple Death, but doth torment folk, and not only burneth those that must die, but also broileth them: if he make an art of murder, and be always in gore blood: the nonrendering of a benefit is too small a punishment for such a one. Whatsoever it was whereby he and I were linked together, that hath he quite cut or by breaking the bonds of the law of nature. If a man have done 〈◊〉 for me, and afterwards maketh war against my country: In so doing he hath lost whatsoever he had deserved, and it were a wickedness to ren●er any ●yndnesse unto him. Again, if he assail not my country, but yet is noysomme too his own, and being separated from my country, troubleth his own: That so great lewdness of his heart hath nevertheless cut him of: and though it have not made him an open enemy to me, yet hath it made him hateful to me: and I must have a former and a more special regard of that duty which I own too all mankind, than of that which I own too any several person.   

¶ The twenty Chapter.  
BUT although this be so, and that I stand free in all respects from that time forth that he by violating all law hath brought too pass that nothing may be unlawful against him: yet I believe there is this measure too be observed on my behalf, that if my benefit shall neither augment his power to the destruction of the common state, nor stablish that which he hath already, and so consequently may be rendered without prejudice of the common weal▪ I shall render it. I shall save his child lying in the Cradle. For what doth this benefit hurt any of those whom his cruelty teareth in pecces? But I shall not feed him with money to maintain his guard in wages. If he desire Marble or fine cloth of me: my furnishing of his supersluetie can hurt noman. But affor men & Armour, I shall not help him with them. If he desire as a great gift, to have cunning Players of interludes, lemons, and such other things as may tame his feercenes: I will willingly offer them. Though I would not send him Galyes and ships: yet would I send him Row-barges and Chambershippes upon the water. And though he be utterly past all hope: yet shall I render unto him, with the same hand that I bestow benefits upon others. Howbeit (too say the truth) the best remedy for such dispositionsis the shortening of their life. And the be●thing that can be for him that will never be reclaimed, is too be dead. But it is a rare thing too lynd one so far gone; and it hath always 〈◊〉 counted a wonder, like as the opening of the Earth, and breaking forth of fire out of the caves of the Sea. therefore 〈◊〉 withdraw ourselves from it, and speak of such things as we may mislike without terror. Too the ordinary evil persons whom a man may find in every Market, and of whom every man is afraid, I shall render the good turn that I have received. I must not make my gain of his naughtiness. Look what is not mine, let it return too the owner, be he good or bad. How diligently would I sift this thing if I should not render, but bestow? This place craveth a merry tale.   

¶ The xxi chapter  
ACerteine Philosopher of Pythagoras' sect, having bought a couple of rags of a tailor upon trust (a great matter) came again within a few days after to his shop too pay him, and found it shut up. And when he had knocked a good while, one being disposed to ●est at the Pythagorin● said; wherefore losest thou thy labour? The tailor whom thou seekest is dead and buried, which thing is a grief unto us that forego our friends for ever, but peradventure not unto thee that knowest he shallbe borne again. hereupon this our Philosopher carried home his three or sour Pence very glad, shaking them divers times in his hand as he went. Afterward finding fault with this his secret pleasure of nonpayment, and perceiving his own overliking of that simple gain: he returned too the Shop, and said too himself: he liveth to theeward, and therefore pay that thou owest him. With that word he thrust the four Pence into the Shop at a cranny of the wall where the closing of the panel was shroonk, and there left them, laying punishment upon himself for his fond desire, lest he might acquaint himself with the coveting of other men's goods.   

¶ The xxii Chapter.  
IF thou own a man any thing, seek too pay it. And if noman demand it, call thou upon thyself. Be he good or be he bade, it makes no matter to thee. For his naughtiness ought not too vantage thee. Render and blame thyself, and forget not in what manner the duties be divided beetw●xt you. Unto him we have enjoined forgetfulness, and unto too thee we have commanded myndfulnesse. Notwithstanding, when we say that he which hath done a good turn should forget it: that man mistaketh us, which imagineth that we would have 〈…〉 of the thing (specially being a most honest thing) quite out of his head. We injoyve some things above measure, too the end they may return too their true & proper measure. When we say he must not remember it: our meening is, that he must not proclaim it, nor brag of it, nor grieve the party with it. For if some folk do a man a pleasure: they make all the would privy to it. Their talk is of it in their soberness, and they cannot hold it in in their drunkenness. They blab it out too strangers, and they tell it in counsel too their friends. Too allay this overfreshe and upbraiding myndfulnesse: we willed him that had done the good turn, too forget it: and by enjoining him more than could be performed, we counseled him too keep silence.   

¶ The xxiii Chapter.  
AS oft as thou haste too deal with such as are of small trust, thou mayst exact more than enough, too the end that enough may be performed. To this end serve the overreaching speeches, y● by an untruth, men may come too the very truth. Therefore he that said there were some that were whiter than snow, and wyghter than the wind (which is impossible to be) said it too the end that the most which could be, should be deléeved. And he that said: more unmovable than these rocks, and more violent than this stream: meant to persuade no more, but that some man is as unmovable as a Rock. An overreach never requireth so much as it pretendeth. But it advourheth things incredible, that it may attain too the credible. When we say, let him that hath bestowed a benefit forget it: our meaning is he should be as one that had forgotten it. Lee not the remembering of it appear, nor thy mind run upon it. And when we say that a benefit must not be challenged again, we do not wholly take away the demanding of it again: for oftentimes evil men have need of a chalendger, and good men have need of a rememberancer. For why? If a man be ignorant of the opportunity, may I not show it him? may I not discover my need unto him? Why should he belie himself, or be sorry that he knew it not? Let a watchewoord be now and then used, howbeit after a modest sort, not with exacting nor with claiming of duty.   

¶ The xxiiii Chapter.  
Socrates' said in audience of his friends: I would fain buy me a cloak if I had money. He craved of noman, yet admonished he them all, and every man deemed that he would take it of him. And why should they not? For how small a thing was it that Socrates received? But it was a great matter too have deserved too be the man of whom Socrares would receive. He could not have given them any incling more meeldly. I had bought me a cloak (quoth he) if I had had money. After this, whosoever made most haste, gave too late. For Socrates had wanted already. Thus for the bitter chalen●gers sakes, we forbidden claiming: not that it should never be used: but that it should be used very sildomme.   

¶ The xxv Chapter.  
Aristippus' being on a time delighted with an ointment, said: evil come too these effeminate fellows that have disfamed so trim a savour. The same evil come to them, is too be said too these lewd and importunate huddlers up of benefits, who have barred so goodly a thing as the admonishment of friends. Yet notwithstanding, I will use the law of friendship, and will claim a good turn at his hand, of whom I would have craved one: and he shall accept it as another benefit, that he might requite it. I shall never say in way of complaint, 
I took him up poor silly soul by shipwreke cast on shore,  
And made him partner of my realm: More fool am I therefore.  This is not an admonishing, but rather a reviling. This is even too bring benefits into hatred. This is even the hyghwaie too make it either lawful or delightful too be thankless. It is enough and too much, too call a man too remembrance with such lowly words as these. If ever I have pleasured you, or if ever you have had liking of any thing of mine. And let him say again on the other side: 
Yea truly, you have pleasured me: you took me up right poor  
And needy when that I was cast by shipwreck on your shore.    

¶ The xxvi Chapter.  
BUt (saith he) this kind of dealing booteth us not. For he dissembleth, and hath forgotten it. What should I do? Thou demandest a thing most necessary, and wherein it becometh this matter too be finished: namely after what sort thankless persons are too be borne with. Truly even with a quiet, meek, and stout mind. Let never unkind, unmindful, and unthankful person so much offend thee, but that nevertheless it may still delight thee too have given. Let never any wrong compel thee to say, I would I had not done it. Let ever the unluckynes of thy benefit like thee. It shall repent him ever, if thou repent never. Thou must not be grieved, as though some strange thing had happened 〈◊〉 thou mightest rather wonder if it had not happened. Some are ●eared away with pains, some with cost, some with peril, some with shameful shamefastness, lest by requiting they might acknowledge themselves to have received; some through ignorance of their duty, some through flothe, and othersome by being over buzied. See how the unmeasurable lusts of men be always gaping and always craving. Thou canst not wonder too see noman requite where noman receiveth enough. Whithe of these is of so steady and sound a mind, that a man may safely put him in trust with a benefit? One outrageth in lechery: another serveth his paunch: another is given all too gain, and yet he hath the devil and all already: another is attainted with envy: and another is ready to run upon the sword point through ambition. Hereunto add dullness of wit and do●ing old age, and contrariwise the turmoiling and continual unquietness of a restless mind. And hereunto the overregarding of a man's owneself, and his strange swelling for which he is too be despised. What shall I speak of the frowardness of such as strive too be overthwarting, or of the lightness of such as are ever fisking too and fro? Put vnto● these, heady rashuesse, and fearfulness which never giveth faithful counsel, and a thousand other errors that we tumble into: as the malapert bragging of them that be most towardly, the discord of them that be most familiar, and (which is a common malady) the trusting of those that be most unsure, the despyzing of things that men have in possession, and the wisshing for such things as there is no hope too obtain.   

¶ The xxvii Chapter.  
SEekest thou faithfulness which is a thing most quiet, among the affections which are things most unquiet? If thou set the true Image of our life before thee, thou wilt think thou beholdest the portraiture of a great city that is taken, where all regard of shame and right is shaken of, & force reigneth instead of sage advice, as though a trumpet were blown to make hanocke of all things. Neither fire nor sword is spared; mischief is broken loose from law: and religion itself, which hath sheelded Supplyantes even amid the weapons of their enemies, cannot stop them a whit from their ronning to the spoil. One snatches out of a private place, another out of a public place, the third out of an unhallowed place, and the fourth out of a hallowed place. This man breaks up, that man leaps over, another man misliking the narrowness of his way, overthroweth the things that stop him, and cometh too his lucre by casting down of things. One wasteth without bloodshed, another bears his booty in bloody hand, and there is noman but he catches somewhat from another man. In this greediness of mankind, verily thou art too-too forgetful of the common case, which seekest a soberman among snatchers. If thou be grieved at thankless persons, be grieved also at riotous persons, be grieved at niggards, be grieved at unchaste folks, be grieved at sikfolke, at misshapen folk, and at palefolke. It is in deed a grievous fault, an intolerable fault, a fault that breaketh the fellowship of mankind, and a fault that cutteth asunder the concord wherewith our weakness is underpropped, and throweth it too the ground. Nevertheless, it is so common a thing, that not even he that complaineth most of it, can clear himself of it.   

¶ The xxviii Chapter.  
EXamine thyself whither thou hast rendered kindness too every man that deserved it at thy hand: or whither there was ever any good turn lost upon thee: or whither thou bear in mind 〈◊〉 the good turns that ever were done thee: and thou shalt see that the things which were given in thy childhood, were forgotten ere thou wast a stripling: and that the things which were bestowed upon thee in thy youth, continued not still in mind unto thine old age. Some things we have lost, some we have cast from us, some have krept out of our sight by little and little, and from some we ourselves have turned our eyes. Too the end I may excuse thy weakness for thee: first memory is brittle, and not sufficient for the number of things. It must needs send out as much as it taketh in, and overlay the formest things with the newest. So cometh it too pass that thy nurse can bear no sway with thee, because the age insewing hath laid her benefit far of from thy hand. So cometh it too pass that thou haste no regard of thy schoolmaster. So cometh it too pass, that while thou art buzie in sewing for the Consulship, or standest for the preestod, he that gave thee his voice for the Treasurership is forgotten. Peradventure, if thou search thyself thoroughly, the fault that thou lookestfor, willbe found in thine own bosomme. Thou dost wrong too be angry with a general fault, and thou doest foolishly in not being angry with thine own fault. Too the end thou mayst be acquitted thyself, bear with others. Thou mayest perchance make him better by forbearing him, but thou shalt doubtless make him worse by upbraiding him. There is no reason that thou shouldest harden his heart: If there be any shame left in him, give him leave too keep it. Oft times where as shame was but somewhat crazed, the overopen reproving of it defaceth it altogether. Noman is ashamed too be that, which he is seen to be. A man groweth past shame when he is openly detected.   

¶ The xxix Chapter.  
I have lost my good turne*. Do we term the things lost which we have consecrated too a holy use? A benefit is of the number of y● things that are hallowed, yea though it have ill success whereas it was well bestowed. * He is not the man we took him for. * Let us continue such as we were, unlike too him. The loss was even then, but it appeared not till now. A thankless person is not brought to light without our own shame, because our finding of fault with the loss of our bene●●te, is a token we looked not well too the bestowing of it. As much as we can, let us plead his case with ourselves, th●s: peradventure he witted it not, peradventure he will do it hereafter. The patiented and wise Creditor hath made some debtors too become g●od, by bearing with them and by tendering their case with respite. The same thing must we do. We must cherish the fainting faith.   

¶ The xxx Chapter.  
I have lost my good turn *. Thou fool, thou discernest not the times of thy loss. Thou hast lost it in deed: but that was at thy first bestowing of it, and now it is come too light. Discretion hath greatly prevailed even in those things that seemed as good as lost. As the diseases of the body are too be handled softly, so are the diseases of the mind also. Oftentimes the thing that would have been unwound with leisure, is broken of by the roughness of him that pulls it out. What need evil words? what needs complaint? what needeth brawling? Why dost thou discharge him? Why dost thou let him go? If he be unthankful, now oweth he thee nothing. What reason is it too set him on a chafe, upon whom thou hast bestowed many things, that of a doubtful friend he may become an undoubted enemy, and seek, too excuse himself by raising a slander upon thee? There are enough t●at will say, I am sure there is some great matter in it, that he could not bear with him too whom he was so much beholden. Somewhat there is in it. There is noman but he may stain the estimation of his better by complaining of him, although he utterly deface him not. Neither will a man be contented too surmise light things, when he seeketh credit by the greatness of his untruths.   

¶ T xxx Chapter.  
HOw much is the other way better, whereby the hope of friendship is reserved to him, yea and the very friendship itself, if he will return too his right mind? Wilful goodness overcometh evil men. And there is not any man so hard hearted, nor so deadly an enemy in his mind against things that are worthy too be loved, but he loveth good men even when he is at his worst, specially finding himself beholden to them even in this respect also, that he sustaineth no displeasure at their hands for not requiting. Therefore bend thyself too think thus: My kindness is unrequyted: what shall I do? Even as the Gods the best patterns of all things do, who begin too benefit man when he knows it not, and continue it towards him when he is unthankful for it. One chargeth them with carelessness of us, another with vnindiffe●entnesse, and the third thrusts them out of this world, and le●●●s them alone, slothful & dampish, without light or without working. And whereas we be beholden too the son for our distinction between the time of Labour and Rest: for escaping the confusion of endless night so as we be not drowned in darkness: for governing the year by his course, for nourishing of our bodies, for making seeds too sprout forth and for ripening of our fruits: Yet there are that term him some fiery stone, or a ball of fire packed together by chance, & what ye else will rather than a God. And yet for all that, the Gods, like good parents that smile at the ill language of their young Children, cease not too heap benefits upon those that doubt of y● author's of them: but holding on with their goodness in equal rate, do distribute them too all nations, having this one property peculiar to themselves, namely to do good. They besprinkle the earth with seasonable showers: they move the Seas with the winds: they dissever the times by the course of the stars: they me●ken both the Winter and the summer with the intercourse of a●●●lder air: & quietly and mercifully do they bear with the entour of our drerye souls. Let us follow their example. Let us gi●e still, though we have given many things in vain afore. Let us give nevertheless unto others: yea and let us give again too the same parties by whom we have sustained loss. The falling down of a House never made man afraid too build. When our dwelling is consumed by fire, we lay foundation again ere the floor be through cold: and when Cities are destroyed, we oftentimes rear them again on the same Plot. So stubborn is the mind toward good hope. men's works would be at a point both by Sea and by Land, if they listed not too adventure again upon things misdecayed.   

¶ The xxxii Chapter.  
HE is a man unthankful. He hath not hurt me, but himself. When I bestowed my benefit, I used it as I thought good. And I will not therefore be the ●lower, but the warer in giving. Look what I have lost in this man, I will recover in another. Yea I will do the same man good still: and like a good husbandman, I will overcome the barrenness of the soil, with composte and tilth. I have lost my good turn, and he hath lost all men's hearts. It is no point of noble courage too give and lose, but too lose and give.  
FINIS.  
All honour, thanks, and praise be given too God always. AMEN.