The Engl●●● Gentlewom●●  
LONDON. Printed for Michael Spark and are to be. Sold, at the Blue Bible▪ in Green Arbour. 1631.  
Will. Marshal 〈◊〉    

THE ENGLISH GENTLEWOMAN, drawn out to the full Body: EXPRESSING▪  
What Habiliments do best attire her,  
What Ornaments do best adorn her,  
What Compliments do best accomplish her.  
By RICHARD BRATHWAIT Esq.  
Modestia, non forma.  
LONDON, Printed by B. ALSOP and T. FAUCET, for Michael Spark, dwelling in Green Arbour▪ 1631.   

TO HER, WHOSE TRUE LOVE TO VIRTUE HATH HIGHLY ENNOBLED HERSELF, RENOWNED HER SEX, Honoured her House: The Right Honourable, the Lady ARBELLA WENTWORTH; The accomplishment of her Divinest wishes.  
MADAM;  
SOme months are past, since I made bold to recommend to my Right Honourable LORD your Husband, an ENGLISH GENTLEMAN; whom he was pleased, forth of his Noble disposion, to receive into his Protection. Into whose most Honourable service he was no sooner entertained, and upon due observance of his integrity approved; then upon approvement of his more piercive judgement, he became generally received. Out of these respects, my most Honourable Lady, I became so encouraged, as I have presumed to prefer unto your service an ENGLISH GENTLEWOMAN, one of the same Country and Family, a deserving sister of so generous a brother: Or (if you will) a pleasing Spouse to so gracious a Lover. Whom, if your Honour shall be but pleased to entertain, (and your noble Candour is such, as she can expect nothing less) you shall find excellently graced with sundry singular qualities, beautified with many choice endowments▪ and so richly adorned with diverse exquisite ornaments, as her attendance shall be no derogation to your Honour, nor no touch to your unblemished Self, to retain her in your favour. Sure I am, the sweetness of her temper, sorts and suits well with the quality or disposition of your Honour: For she Loves without any painted pretences to be really virtuous, without popular applause to be affably gracious, without any glorious gloss to be sincerely zealous. Her Education hath so enabled her, as she can converse with you of all places, deliver her judgement conceivingly of most persons, and discourse most delightfully of all fashions. She hath been so well Schooled in the Discipline of this Age, as she only desires to retain in memory that form which is least affected but most comely; to consort with such as may improve her Knowledge and practice of goodness by their company; to entertain those for real and individuate friends, who make actions of piety expressivest characters of their amity. Diligent you shall ever find her in her employments, serious in her advice, temperate in her Discourse, discreet in her answers. She bestows fare more time in eyeing the glass of her life to rectify her errors, if there be any, than the glass of her face in wiping of such outward stains as might blemish her beauty. Neither in preserving that, is she altogether so remiss, as not to retain that seemly grace in her feature, as may put her in remembrance of the unexpressive beauty and bounty of her Maker. Neat she goes usually in her attire, which she puts on with more care than cost. And to these she adds such a well-seeming grace, as she bestows more beauty on them, than she receives from them. Fantastic habits or foreign fashions are so fare from taking her, as with a sleight but sweet contempt they are disvalue by her. She wonders how a wise state should employ so much time in inventing variety of disguises to disfigure their Shape. This makes her desire rather to be out of request with time, then with a civil and well-composed mind; whose honour it is to be prized more by her own internal worth, than any outward wear. Constant she is in her behaviour; wherein she affects little, but observes much. With a bashful admiration she smiles at these civilised simpering Dames, whose only glory it is to affect a kind of reserved state; which, as they hold, consists principally in a minced speech, set look, or ginger pace. She loves always to be herself, nor to entertain aught which may estrange her from herself. So as, there is nothing in the whole posture of her Behaviour, but with a native graceful propriety doth infinitely become her. Take upon her to instruct others, she will not, such is her Humility; albeit, every moving posture which comes from her, may be a line of direction unto others to follow her. Compliment she affects not, as the world takes it. The word in his own native and unborrowed signification is good, and in that sense she admits it; but to be restrained to an enforced formality, she cannot relish it. Whence it is, that she prefers the incomparable Liberty of her mind, before the mutable formality of a Deluded age. She desires to be Complete in the exercise of goodness; to improve her Honour not by titles but a lovely and lively proficience, graced with a continuate practice in all virtues. She cannot endure this later introduced kind of Compliment, which consists in Cringies, Congees, or supple salutes. A cheerful modesty is her best Compliment, which she ever wears about her as her chiefest ornament. Decency, she affects in her clothes, affability in her Discourse; she hath made a covenant with her eyes never to wander, nor intentively to bestow themselves on any other object than the glory of her Maker. A proper personage is no such attractive motive to her eye, to make her lose herself. Whatsoever she undertakes beseems her, because she affects naught but what naturally becomes her. Her beauty is her own; and whatsoever else may better accomplish her. Her paths are evenly virtuous; her desires truly religious; Piety is her practise; which she expresseth so fully in every action; as the whole course of her well-disposed life is not so much as justly conscious of the least aspersion. So highly she values her Estimation, as she will not engage it to suspicion. Promises cannot tempt her, nor hope of advancement taint her. She wonders one should prefer a conceit of being great before a desire of appearing good. Protesting Lovers she holds for no better than deceiving Lures. Be their vows of service never so incessant, their assaults never so violent; her resolves have vowed her constant. Hope of Profit cannot surprise her, nor thought of Pleasure vainly delude her. Estimation she holds her highest grace; with which untainted she purposeth to go to her Grave. She knows how to fancy; and in her she retains what she fancies most: A chaste soul; this is that she loves, and with which she cheerfully lives. She was never yet acquainted with a passionate ah me; nor a careless folding of her arms, as if the thought of a prevailing Lover had wrought in her thoughts some violent Distemper. So seriously doth she task herself to employment, as she never reserves so much time as to treat of so light a Subject. Yet she unfeignedly vows, that if it be ever her fortune to make her choice, her constant affection must never admit any Change. To be Generous in every action, hath been ever the height of her ambition. Howsoever she might boast of Descent, her desire is to raise it by Desert. She holds, no family can be truly Generous, unless it be nobly virtuous. Her life must express the line from whence she came. She scorns to entertain one thought below herself. Or to detract from the glory of that house from whence she came. As the blood that streams through her veins was nobly Derived, so must it not by any action or affection drawn from the rule of her direction, become corrupted. For Honour, she admits it, but seldom or never admires it; the Stairs by which she means to climb to it, must be fair & firm, or she will never mount them. She rather admires the Age's folly; while she observes how many hazard their high-prized liberty, for a vading glimpse of popular glory. Her desires are higher seated, where they are only to be sated. A secure State consists not in styles but virtues, which are Honour's surest stays. Therefore her highest Honour reflects on her Creator, wherein she is so fare from fearing, as she is ever wishing more Corrivals. THIS is the GENTLEWOMAN whom I have presumed here to present unto your Ladyship's service; 
Such, to your Honour, is her zealous affection, as she makes it the sole Apology of her Presumption: which she weaves up in this Dimension:  whose sweet converse will at retired hours afford you choicest solace. Neither, should you rank her amongst the lowest of your meney, will it displease her, such is her Humility: for she hath learned as well to obey as command. Nor will she spare for any pains, so her diligence may please. Only (Madam) be pleased to shine upon her with the gracious rays of your favour, 
To serve some GREAT ONES l've been oftimes wood.  to shroud her bashful endeavours under the wings of your Honour; and entertain her blushing approach with your benign Censure. 
But HERS I'm vowed, that is both GREAT and GOOD.  So shall you find a constant desire of requital in her; and engage Him, whose intimate Zeal to your Honour recommended her,  
Your Ladyship's devoted servant: Richard Brathwait.   

TO THE GENTLEWOMAN READER.  
GENTLEWOMEN:  
I Have here presented unto your view one of your own Sex; One, whose improved Education will be no blemish but a beauty to her Nation. Peruse her, and I make little doubt, but you will so approve of her Behaviour, as you shall acknowledge her right worthy the title of a Sister. More shall you find in her, by freely conversing with her, than in those YOUNG but lose ENGLISH GENTLEWOMEN, whose long mercenary Prostitution upon the Stall, hath brought them out of Request, and made them grow too Stolen, by being exposed to public Sale. Many Countries hath she coasted, sundry Dangers accosted, Courts and Cities hath she frequented, to return home better freighted, and re-convey the benefit of that fraught to this Island, where she was first bred and now arrived. Do ye itch after Fashion? She is for you; yet not that, which the vanity of this Age admits; but what Modesty only affects. She hath observed much in foreign Courts, which deserved rather Contempt than Imitation; this she would not for a world introduce into a well-governed State; so tender she is of her Fame, as no place nor person shall derive from her the least stain. Whatsoever she hath commended to be seen, is no less fully than faithfully shown, and with that temperate style drawn, as in every line some one precept of Virtue seems to shine. Neither in this her strict or serious Observation of Times, doth she resemble those Lamiaes, who use to take their eyes with them when they go abroad, but lie them aside when they come home: No; so little doth she favour herself, as she prefers others Censures before her own; and in no one particular so much expresseth her own true glory, as in the constant practice of Humility. Hence it is, that she is no curious pryer into others actions, nor too cens●rious a reproover of others Directions; being indeed, a TIRESIAS in the eyeing or descrying of others errors, an ARGUS in her own. What is good and amiable in the eye of Virtue, she embraceth with an affectionate tender; making it her highest honour, to promote the glory of her Maker. But least by being too serious, she might become tedious; she will not stick to walk abroad with you into more pleasing groves or pastures of Delight: where she will converse with you of Love, and intermix her Discourse with such time-beguiling Tales as variety shall no less sharpen your attention, than the modesty of her Method beget admiration. Every Subject she treats of, you shall find so equally tempered with profit and delight; as the one shall no less benefit your mind, than the other solace your Eare. She can reprove without gall, blush without guilt, love without guile, live without gain. Her gain is to purchase virtue more followers; her guile, to deprive the world of her favourers; her guilt, to defeat all vicious pioneers; her gall, to disrelish all Voluptuous practisers. She can discourse of Love without lightness; converse with Love without looseness; and consort with those she loves without lewdness. She knows how to retain a seemly state without pride; to express herself praiseworthy without selfe-praise; and in all her actions to make Virtue her highest prize. Humility, which is the princess of Virtues, the conqueress of Vices, the mirror of Virgins, and Crown of Christians, she so much honours, as she values it above all humane glory: whence it is, that she hath ever reaped more spiritual profit by disesteem then selfe-esteeme. Day by day she recreates herself in her Garden of goodwill; and in her recreation, she makes this her soule-solacing Meditation: Who be they that neighbour near me, and whose weak estates stand in need of me? Concluding with this charitable resolution: There is none so poor, but to my power I will relieve, so long as I live, for the honour of his Image whom I love. She divides her day into hours, her hours into holy tasks. Employment takes away all occasions of distraction. Should she suffer a light or indisposed thought to work upon her imagination: or give way to any such intruder to di●sturbe the peace of her inward house, she would endure herself worse for many years; and inflict upon her extravagant affections such a censure, as might deter them thenceforth to wander. She distastes none more than these busy housewives, who are ever running into discourse of others families, but forget their own. Neither holds she it sufficient to be only an Housekeeper; or Snayle-like to be still under roof: she partakes therefore of the Pismire in providing, of the Sarreptan widow in disposing: holding ever an absent providence better than an improvident presence. She is no common frequenter of public feasts, but if neighbourhood require it, she will admit of it: wherein she demeans herself so civilly, as there is no discreet person but joys in her society. There is nothing must beget in her a distemper, having ever a tender eye o'er her honour. In the report of others praises she is attentive, but deaf to her own. Be she in places of public resort or privately retired, she ever enjoys herself; neither can excess of mirth transport her; or any cross occurrent much perplex her. There is nought that aliens her mind more from those with whom she consorts, than an immodest discourse, which she interrupts with a discreet anger. Wheresoever she sets her rest, she makes Virtue her guest, whom she entertains with so sweet an embrace, as nothing can divide them: so firm and inviolable is the league that is betwixt them. She conceives no small delight in Educating the young and unexperienced Damsels of your sex: wherein she retains an excellent faculty and facility. It shall not be amiss therefore for you who have Daughters, to recommend them to her direction; whose government is such, as neither her too much indulgence shall spoil them; nor restraint dull them. Whatsoever she in many years hath learned (so desirous is she to benefit where her Observations may afford profit) she is willing to impart; to the end she may procure her mor● servants, whom she● religiously hath ever vowed to serve. Long hath she been a Learner, neither is she ashamed to be so still. Only for virtue's honour, is she become a Teacher; that the Younger may be instructed by those that are Elder; the undisciplined by such as are riper. Neither shall you find her slow in performing, what she hath so perfectly learned. For her very Life is a continued line of Direction, being solely dedicated to a virtuous profession. St. Cyprian did sharply reprove a rich woman, for coming into the Lord's Temple without her Oblation: But this reproof she would be loath justly to incur: therefore she goes better prepared, that her portion of Glory may be sooner shared: having an Oblation in her hand, Devotion in her heart, and a Crown of consolation in hope. You then, who love modesty, entertain her; for she will sort well with your humour, and through her acquaintance improve your honour. For such who sacrifice the Morn to their Class, the Afternoon to the Stage, and Evening to revelling; she holds no correspondence with them. These she holds for no employments; nor the Professors of them worthy her knowledge. They must not abuse time, that are commended to her trust. She is not so weary of time, neither doth she so disvalue it, as with such impertinences to consume it. Those likewise, who prefer Fashion before Decency, formal Punto'es before real Formality, & will suffer themselves to be deluded by Vanity; they must not be admitted into her family. She hath learned better things than to fool herself in a painted disguise, or to labour of that Universal disease, which the corruption of a full and flourishing State usually produceth. She hath learned with that better Sister, to choose the better part. Constant be her purposes, contentment her desires, consonant her delights. Be it then your honour to be informed by her, seeing her instructions are equally mixed with profit and pleasure. Now if you object, that she hath been too flow in coming, seeing her GENTLEMAN so long since arrived; hear mine answer; and suspend your Censure, by imputing this fault to our English Error. Where Venus is longer in trimming, than Mars in training. Many provisions were required by her, before the World were to be possessed of her. Much likewise expected from her, before the World had knowledge of her; this made her the longer to retire, that she might profit the more in her return. May you, Gentlewomen, be the instance of it; so shall both the Author and his labour rejoice in it. To draw then to a Conclusion, lest my Portell rise too high for my building; as you are not to expect from her any guga-tyres, toys, or trifles; love-sented gloves, amorous potions, perfumed pictures, or lovesick powders; so she doubts not, but to find in you an Ear, prompt to attention; a Tongue, clear of invection; a Spirit, free from detraction? with an Heart apt to harbour affection.  
Now for the Volume, I had purposely made it more portable, that it might become your more sociable follower; had not my observation told me, that albeit amiableness consist in a lovely feature, the goodliness of a Gentlewoman rests in her comely Stature. Besides, this corresponded better with the Portraiture of the ENGLISH GENTLEMAN, her affianced Lover. For the Margin, I have not charged it with many Notes, lest you should neglect the Garment, by being taken too much with the border. Improve it to your best profit, and let GOD have the glory of it.   

An Abstract or Summarie of all such Principal points, Branches or Particulars, contained in this Book entitled, The English Gentlewoman.  
The prime Subjects whereof it treats. 

Apparel.  
Behaviour.  
Compliment.  
Decency.  
Estimation.  
Fancy.  
Gentility.  
Honour.    

1. Argument. APPAREL.  
THe Necessity of Apparel; 
Mottoes upon every Subject.  Of the use and abuse of Apparel; 
Comely not gaudy.  Two means by which the use may be inverted to abuse; That Appeareth most comely, which confers on the Wearer most native beauty, and most honour on her Country.   

2. Argument. BEHAVIOUR.  
BEhaviour reflects on three particulars; 
Loving modesty, it aliving bea●ty.  How to behave herself in Company; How in Privacy; That Behaviour most approved, which is cleanest from affection freed.   

3. Argument. COMPLIMENT.  
Compliment defined; how it may be corrupted, 
Civil Compliment, my best accomplishment.  how refined; wherein it may be admitted as mainly Consequent; wherein omitted as merely impertinent; What Compliment gives best accomplishment.   

4. Argument. DECENCY.  
Decency recommended as requisite in four distinct Subjects; 
Virgin-Decency, is Virtue's Livery.  Decency the attractivest motive of affection; the smoothest path that leads to perfection.   

5. Argument. ESTIMATION.  
EStimation, a Gentlewoman's highest prize; 
My prize, is her own praise.  how it may be discerned to be real; how Superficial; how it may be impregnably preserved; how irreparably lost; The absolute end, whereto it chiefly aspires, and wherein it cheerfully rests.   

6. Argument. FANCY.  
FAncy, is to be with Deliberation grounded; 
My Choice admits no Change.  with Constancy retained; Wanton Fancy is a wand'ring Frency; How it may be checked, if too wild; how cheered, if too cool; an attemperament of both.   

7. Argument. GENTILITY.  
GEntility, is derived from our Ancestors to us, 
Desert crownes Descent.  but soon blanched if not revived by us; Virtue the best Coat; a shamefast red the best colour to deblazon that Coat; Gentility, is not known by what we wear, but what we are; There are native Seeds of goodness sown in generous blood by lineal Succession; How these may be ripened by instruction.   

8. Argument. HONOUR.  
HOnour is painted, when it is not with virtue powdered; 
Honour is virtue's Harbour.  No cloth takes such deep tincture, as the cloth of Honour; Honourable personages should be Precedents of goodness; Virtue or Vice, whether soever takes hold first, retains a deeper impression in Honour, than in any lower subject; That Virtue may receive the first impression, by means of an inbred Noble disposition, seconded by helps of Education; which reduced to habit, aspires to perfection.    

A Compendious Table; wherein the Principal points contained in this Book, are with no less Brevity than Perspicuity, Propriety, than Facility couched.  

APPAREL. Observat. 1.  
OF the necessity of Apparel. Pag. 1.  
Primitive purity exempted us from these necessities; Original impurity subjected us to these necessities. pag. 4.  
Apparel keeps the body warm two ways: first by keeping in the natural heat: 2. By keeping out accidental cold. pag. 2.  
These benefits are inverted by fantastic Fashions late introduced: where attires are not made to keep cold out, but to bring cold in. pag. 4.  
Of the Use of Apparel. pag. 5.  
To make this use good, Modesty must be our guide, Virtuous thoughts our guard; so shall Heaven be our goal. ibid.  
A memorable instance of a Religious woman; expressing what Divine use she made in the eyeing of ●er Apparel. ibid.  
The habit of the mind may be best discerned by the carriage of the body; the Disposition of the body, by the habit. Pag. 6.  
The Constancy of the Heathen, in retaining their ancient Country fashion; and immutably observing the habit of their own Nation. ibid.  
Habit is to be used as an Ornament of Decency; without the least border or Edging of Vanity. pag. 8.  
Directions, how to dispose the Senses; and that Reason must keep Sentinel, lest they become Sensual. ibid.  
The preciousness of Time; whereof, a Moment is our portion; nor hath the Commandingst Emperor a larger proportion. pag. 9  
How contemptible a thing is Man, if he erect not his thoughts above man! ibid.  
Of the abuse of Apparel. ibid.  
More time spent how to abuse time, and corrupt licentious youth; then how to address employment to qualify the distractions of the one, or to rectify the distempers of the other. pag. 10.  
This illustrated by instances in three several places. City, Court, and Country: And accommodated, with Observations proper to every Subject. pag. 11.  
The Task of a virtuous Mirror, and a true Lady of Honour, expressed; and to all Ladies, as a Precedent of goodness, zealously recommended. pag. 12.  
The life of a mere Libertine instanced and displayed with a relation of those desperate Conclusions to which she adheared. ibid.  
How the use of Apparel may be inverted to abuse: either by Delicacy, or Superfluity. pag. 13.  
Reproof touching Apparel, originally occasioned from four respects: 1. sumptuousness.— And that confirmed by a memorable example. 2. Softness. 3. Strangeness. And that reprovable in these 3. particulars. 4. superfluousness.— 

Variety.  
Immensity.  
Vanity.    
All which are intervained with sundry instances of various delight. Pag. 14. & 15.  
A dissuasion from Delicacy of Apparel, by reflecting on the Emblem of humane frailty, the model of our mortality. Which continuate Sub●ect is stored with a select variety of divine and humane observations. pag. 16. 17. 18. etc.  
Superfluity of Apparel condemned; the Fashionmongers answered; clozing that Branch, with a devout Admonition from divine BASILE extracted, and usefully applied. pag. 19 20. 21. 22.  
That Apparel most comely, which confers on the wearer, most native beauty, and most honour on her Country. pag. 23.  
Habit is a custom; yet it is our custom to change our Habit. ibid.  
Each Country retains a fashion of her own, save our own. ibid.  
Ours an extraction or confection of all, which makes us jeered at by all. ibid.  
Fantastic fashions are no motives of affection to discreet Lovers. pag. 24.  
Discretion will be more taken with Modesty, than Vanity; and Humility, than Vainglory. pag. 25.  
The World is our Stage, our Life an Act; The Tiring-house, where we bestowed such care, cost and curiosity, must be shut up, when our Night approacheth, and strips us of these robes of our mortality. Without Virtue, all humane glory is a vading beauty. ibid.   

BEHAVIOUR. Observat. 2.  
BEhaviour reflects on three particulars. Action. Pag. 28. Affection. Passion.  
Virtue is the life of Action, action the life of man. ibid.  
In this Subject some are employed (but remissely) to the purpose. Others are employed to no purpose. Others sleep out their mind in security. Others creep and cringe into an Apish formality. None of these direct the bent of their actions, to the Object of true Glory. pag. 29.  
A woman's honour is of higher esteem than to be thus disvalue. Light occasions are many times grounds of deep aspersions. Actions are to be seasoned with discretion, seconded by direction, strengthened with instruction, lest too much rashness bring the undertaker to destruction. ibid.  
A brief Commemoration of diverse noble women, who as they were honourable by descent, so were they memorable for desert. Parallels to the best men for conversation, though weak in sex, nature and condition. pag. 30.  
An exhortation to young Gentlewomen, to conform themselves to such imitable patterns: concluding with that excellent instruction addressed by St. HIEROM to that holy Virgin DEMETRIAS; commending nothing so much unto her as industry, the better to enure her in the practice of Piety. pag. 31.  
Nothing requires more discretion than affection. pag. 32.  
One can never truly love and not be wise: which directly opposeth PLATO'S opinion. ibid.  
Nothing more impatient of delay than Love: Nothing of more different passion: with an exact relation of their distinct operation. pag. 32. 33.  
Love is neither to be too subtly coloured, nor too simply discovered. If too hot, the violence of it is best rebated by absence; if too cool, it is to be quickened with more frequent conference, and assiduate presence. pag. 34.  
Passion never works more fearful effects, then when it streams from jealousy: verified by a tragic Example in our own Isle and time occurring, and to succeeding times surviving. pag. 35. 36.  
Remedies to appease anger, and every passionate distemper. pag. 37.  
The discommodities which arise from Passion; the benefits which redound from attempering it. pag. 38. 39  
An useful Exhortation, to this temperate Moderation. Pag. 40.  
How a Gentlewoman is to behave herself in Company. pag. 41.  
Modesty and Mildness hold sweetest correspondence in all societies. pag. 42.  
Chastity is an enclosed Garden; and by no licentious foot to be entered. ibid.  
Other vices are discomfited by fight, 
☞ Aug. lib. de honestate mulieris.  Lust only defeated by flight. pag. 43.  
We may be in security, so long as we are sequestered from society. ibid.  
We are to subject affection to the sovereignty of reason. pag. 44.  
How a Gentlewoman is to behave herself in Privacy. ibid.  
Patterns of singular devotion recommended to her imitation. pag. 45. 46. 47.  
Meditation being a Key to open the Morning, a lock to close the Evening, should be a Gentlewoman's bosom companion. pag. 48.  
Gentlewomen, without much reservancy, are not to frequent public places of Society. Pag. 50.  
Instances of such, as being discreetly reserved, accommodated their persons to public affairs, and became impro●ved by them▪ pag. 51. 52.  
A judicious recollection of such who intent time, and such who misspend time: clozing with the relation of sundry fearful Examples, to 〈◊〉 lose livers from the like secureness. pag. 53. 54.  
That Behaviour most approved, which is clearest from affectation freed. pag. 55.  
Virtue's Habit and Behaviour is free and not affected; native and not traduced. pag. 57  
An accurate distinction or dijudication betwixt an enforced and unaffected Behaviour. ibid.  
A Gentlewoman is so to behave herself, that too much curiosity tax her not of pride, nor too much Majesty of State. pag. 58.   

COMPLIMENT. Observat. 3.  
Compliment defined. Pag. 59  
With what constancy the Ancient retained their form of Compliment. Pag. 60.  
Different garbs proper to distinct places▪ Pag. 61.  
A distinction betwixt real and formal Compliment. ibid.  
A deserving commendation of sundry English Ladies, in their unaffected way of Compliment. pag. 62.  
How Compliment may be corrupted. Pag. 63.  
A description of amorous poems, with a just reproof of their enforced Hyperbolees. Pag. 64. 65.  
The Compliment used by some great ones, were but mere Canting among Beggars. pag. 66.  
How Compliment may be refined. ibid.  
Civility is the best and most refined Compliment that may be. pag. 69.  
Civility is never ●ut of fashion: ever deserving admiration. pag 69.  
It is Society that gives us, or takes from us our Security. pag. 67.  
Wherein Compliment may be admitted, as mainly consequent. pag. 70.  
The Court is the Beacon of the State; the Seat or School of Compliment. pag. 71.  
As Courtiers are Objects to many Eyes; so should their Actions be Platforms to many Lives. Pag. 72.  
Corrivallship in a light Courtesans love, hath deprived many a hopeful Gentleman of his dearest life. ibid.  
In Contests of love, it is hard to determine whether the Agent or Patient suffer more. Page, 73.  
Wherein Compliment may be omitted, as merely impertinent. ibid.  
Apish formalists, or Complemental actors disesteem those three principal faculties of the Understanding. 

Discourse.  
Distinction.  
Election.    
Singular Directions, how to acommodate them in all these. Pag. 75.  
What Compliment gives best accomplishment. page. 76.  
Sensual Courtesans are their own Furies. pag. 77. 78.  
A good Christian the compleatest Courtier: Virtue the Ornament, which gives Compliment the best accomplishment. page, 79.   

DECENCY. Observat. 4.  
DEcency recommended as requisite, in faure distinct Subjects. 

GATE.  
LOOK.  
SPEECH.  
HABIT.    
It is no hard thing to gather the disposition of our heart, by the dimension of our Gate. 
GATE.  Pag. 82.  
Though our Feet be here below, our Faith should be above. ibid.  
No path of pleasure should draw us from those joys which last for ever. ibid.  
A wanton Eye is the truest Evidence of a wand'ring 
LOOK.  mind: Our Eye becomes the sense of sorrow, because the sense of sin.  
An Unclean Eye the Messenger of an Unclean heart. pag. 85.  
Distinct Obiect● proposed to Eyes diversely affected. pag. 85. 86  
By looking upward, the more we look, we shall like, the longer we live, we shall love. pag. 87.  
Without Speech 
SPEECH▪  can no society subsist. pag. 88  
Excellent rules for propriety of discourse. ibid.  
A deliberate apprehension begot by serious attention, is to go ever before discourse. pag. 89.  
What Subject suits best for a Gentlewoman's discourse. ibid.  
A pleasant answer of mellifluous BERNARD, applied to all forward Shee-church discoursers. pag. 90.  
Silence in a Woman, is a moving Rhetorioke. ibid.  
There is nothing which moves us more to pride it in sin, 
HABIT.  than that which was first given us to cover our shame. pag. 91.  
sumptuousness of the Habit deserves not so much reprehension, as Fantasticness of the Habit, in respect of the form or fashion. pag. 92.  
Decency is a civil Gentlewoman's choicest livery, which sets her f●rth before all embroidery. ibid.  
Time is too precious to be made a Pageant or Morris on. ibid.  
A brief but most useful application of those four preceding Subjects. Pag. 94.  
Decency, the attractivest motive of Affection. ibid.  
Nothing conveys more affection to the heart, than Decency in the Object we affect. ibid.  
In this age, the best shot to be discharged is a Tavern reckoning, the best Alarm carousing, and the most absolute March reeling. ibid.  
No Habit so decent, as what is native and properly habituate. pag. 95.  
Where Virtue is not directress i● our choice, our inconstant minds are ever prone to change. pag. 96.  
Nothing should give us Content, but what is decent. ibid.  
Decency the smoothest path that leads to perfection. pag. 97.  
The only way to be Complete, is to be decent. ibid.  
An adumbration of that glory, reserved for those that affect Decency. pag. 98.  
A virtuous Exmplarie life crownes the Soul with eternal rest. ibid.   

ESTIMATION. Observat. 5.  
EStimation, a Gentlewoman's highest prize. pag. 101.  
The loss of Estimation makes the richest Merchant an irreparable Bankrupt. ibid.  
Fame, the sweetest flower that ever grew near the border of Time. pag. 102.  
A continuation of sundry eminent personages; puissant in arms, continent in desires; and absolute Commanders of their own affections. Pag. 103. 104.  
Greece and Rome were no less honoured for PENELOPE'S and LUCRETIA'S Constancy; than for ULYSSES wisdom, or COLLATINE'S loyalty. ibid.  
Portion may woo a Wordling; Proportion a youthful wanton; but it is virtue that wins the heart of discretion. pag. 105.  
A select improvement of our Albion Ladies. pag. 106.  
How Estimation may be disc●●●ed to be real. ibid.  
Instructions of singular use for Mai●es, Wives, and Widows; illustrated with proper instances in each kind. The way to win●● a● Husband is not to woo him, but to be wooed by him. Pag. 106, 107, 108, 109, 110, 111, 112. etc.  
Mothers the fittingst Nurses of their own children; seconded by examples in all ages. Pag. 108. 109.  
A Mistress of a family many times taxed for her Handmaids delicacy: instanced and illustrated copiously. pag. 11●.  
The lives of the dying, consist in the memory of the living. ibid.  
How Estimation may be discerned to be superficial. pag. 114.  
Many desire to appear● 〈◊〉 to the eye, what they are least in heart. ibid.  
The first occasion of kissing the lip: with a free reproof of our late but too 〈◊〉 introduced custom of kissing the cheek; elegantly shadowed in a Sonnet. pag. 114. 115.  
Discretion cannot approve of that for good, which self-opinion or singularity only makes good. ibid.  
Those who dedicate themselves to the service of Virtue, prefer the pith before the rind, substance before appearance. pag. ibid.  
A Caution to wanton Women. pag. 116.  
Sin's may be without danger for a time, but never without fear. ibid.  
Superficial Complement●rs, are hypocritical Courtiers. ibid.  
Directions how to be gracious Courtiers in the highest Court. pag. 117.  
How Estimation may be impregnably preserved. ibid.  
Of all arrows, those which are darted by the spirit of zeal, wound the enemy most, and procure the Archer best rest: confirmed by sundry notable examples. pag. 118. 119.  
None can walk safely, that walks not religiously. ibid.  
A reflection upon the constancy and resolution of Heathens▪ recommended to the imitation of Christian women. pag. 120.  
Virtue cannot exercise her own strength, nor express her own worth without an Opposite. pag. 121.  
An instance in a noble Lady. ibid.  
A direction in the close. pag. 122.  
How Estimation may be irreparably lost. ibid.  
The 
* Ili●es hederae agiles horae con●●ciunt.  Ivy while it is winding, decays the plant, with which it is wreathing. ibid.  
An instance of a Citie-Virago. pag. 123.  
An use of this instance. pag. 124.  
The absolute end, whereunto Estimation aspires, and wherein it cheerfully rests. Pag. 125.  
This confirmed by sundry examples; and one most remarkable of our own. Pag. 125, 126. 127.  
An application to these Ladies of our own. pag. 127. 128.   

FANCY. Observat. 6.  
FAncy, is to be with deliberation grounded. pag. 129.  
The Eye is Fancies harbinger, but the heart is her harbour, ibid.  
Directions for settling and disposing our affection. pag. 130.  
Love's purity is to be discussed, before it be entertained. pag. 131.  
Not the rind but the mind is Discretions Adamant. Pag. 132.  
The misery of jealousy deblazoned and exemplified. ibid.  
Singular resolves for a Conjugal State. Pag. 133, 134.  
Fancy is to be with constancy retained. Page, 135.  
Two memorable Mottoes recommmended. ibid.  
The waywardness of some women justly reproved, and how that humour may be rectified. pag. 136.  
The admirable purity and efficacy of Love. pag. 137.  
Memorable examples of Conjugal Constancy and Continency. ibid.  
An exhortation tending to the imitation of such famous Precedents. ibid.  
Wanton Fancy is a wand'ring Frenzy. pag. 138.  
Wanton Love, seldom or never promiseth good success. ibid.  
The incendiaries or foments of this inordinate passion, to ●●xe particulars reduced, all which are in one distich included. pag. 139  
The Odious and inhuman effects in all ages derived from the violence of this Wanton fancy, or Wand'ring frenzy. Pag. 140. 141.  
Sovereign receipts to cure this desperate malady. ibid.  
What kind of affection deserves a Gentlewoman's election. pag. 142.  
How Fancy may be checked, if too wild; confirmed by a Philosophical demonstration or Physical experiments ibid.  
A pleasant and pithy expostulation with fancy. ibid.  
A dissuasion from too much credulity to the light protests of deceiving fancy: confirmed by a modern example. Pag. 143.  
A Gentlewoman may with more safety suspect, than too rashly affect. ibid.  
A discreet resolution upon terms of affection, seconded with the promise of an assured blessing. pag. 144.  
The secret impression, and passionate expression of an unfortunate Lady in the relation of her misery. pag. 144. 145.  
It is not so hard to give comfortable counsel to the sorrowful, as to find a fit season when to give it. ibid.  
Consideration, a necessary guide to affection. ibid. Repentance comes too late at Marriage●night.  
How Fancy may be cheered if too cold. pag. 146.  
The incomparable honour of a Virgin-condition. ibid.  
The hate of Incest with brute Beasts. pag. 147.  
The Bird of Love, the Emblem of a Lover's heart. pag. 149.  
Monies are inferior pictures to true Lovers. ibid.  
The absolute end of a conjugal State. pag. 150▪  
An attemperament of both th●se indisposed Fancies before mentioned. ibid.  
The difference betwixt a wise and wild Love, consists in this: the one ever deliberates before it love; the other loves before it deliberate. Pag. 151.  
Necessary Cautions for all kindhearted Gentlewomen. pag. 152.  
The like for all coy or coole-affected Gentlewomen. pag. 153.  
A sweet attemperament of both these humours: with an apt Emblem explained and properly applied, to such, as are with either of these humours distempered. pag. 154. 155.   

GENTILITY. Observat. 7.  
GEntility, is derived from our Ancestors to us, but soon blanched, if not revived by us. pag. 157.  
A persuasion to the imitation of our Ancestors virtues. pag. 158.  
There was nothing mortal about them but their bodies, and those were too frail Cabonets for such rich eminences to lodge in: whereas, there is nothing but frailties about ours, for lose and licentious love to lie in. ibid.  
Those Odours deserve highest honours, that beautify us living, and preserve our memory dying. ibid.  
To see a light Lady descending from a noble Family, is a Spectacle of more spreading infamy, than any Subject of inferior quality. pag. 159.  
Gentility, is not to be measured by antiquity of time, but precedency in worth. pag. 160.  
The reason why generous descents become so much corrupted; and virtuous Parents by vicious Children so frequently disparaged. ibid. & 161  
Mothers, the naturallest Nurses: confirmed by precept, custom, and example. pag. ibid. * Supra pag. 108. 109.  
An effectual persuasion to that duty. ibid. & pag. 162.  
Virtue the best Coat. pag. ibid.  
Heraldry proves virtue's Coat to be the best, because deblazoned with least charge. ibid.  
Virtue is no admiring lover of aught that is below her. pag. 162. 163.  
The misery of this age, in sumptuousness of attire. pag. ibid.  
The honour of Humility. pag. 174.  
A glorious reproovall of modest Matrons. pag. 175.  
Sin's prevention, is to prevent the Occasion. Pag. 176.  
Gentlewomen are to reflect more on their inward worth, than on their outward wear. Pag. 176.  
It will not redound much to a Gentlewoman's honour, to have observed the fashions of the time, but with a discreet Contempt or civil neglect of fashion, to have redeemed her time. pag. 177.  
Living actions of true Gentility, happy Precursors to the State of Glory. ibid.  
There are native seeds of goodness, sown in generous bloods by lineal succession: variously instanced. pag. ibid. & 178. 179.  
Those who are with the choicest virtues endowed, become oft times, most traduced. ibid. & 180.  
There is no one virtue which makes a Gentlewoman more gracious in the eye of her beholder, than Modesty, the greatest advancer of many ancient family ibid.  
To be high borne and basely minded, is to engraft bastard slips in a Noble stock. ibid.  
High and Heroic virtues become great Houses: confirmed by the resolution of a noble Lady, in rejecting the powerful solicitancy of a Sensual Suitor. ibid. and 181.  
Emulation of goodness in great Persons is honourable. ibid.  
How these native seeds of goodness may be ripened by instruction, pag. 182.  
No Tutresses fit to perfect this excellent work in Gentlewomen, than those who were the secundary instruments of their being: strengthened by example and reason. pag. 183.  
A select Choice and recommendation of sundry books of instruction, to the perusal of our English Gentlewoman. ibid.  
A brief enumeration, serious discussion, and judicious election, of sundry ancient Fathers, with other moral Authors. pag. 184.  
English translations, the lights of Ladies, but Damps of Scholars. pag. 187.  
Private Nurseries, household Academies. ibid.  
The first instruction takes the deepest Impression; with an useful application to every condition. pag. 188.  
Necessary directions highly conducing to the good report and repute of Maids and Matrons, ibid.  
The most precious things have ever the most pernicious Keepers. Nothing more precious, than a Virgin's honour; it were a shame for the Mother for any base lucre, to prove a treacherous Keeper. pag. 189.  
The whole progress of a Gentlewoman's conversation should be a continued line of direction: to which line he confines his observation. pag. 190.   

HONOUR. Observat. 8.  
Promotion's discovers what men be, but true Honour shows what they should be. pag. 191.  
Honour is painted, when it is not with virtue powdered. pag. 192.  
Moral Philosophy, nor Christian Theory, could ever hold that for deserving greatness, which had not near relation to goodness. ibid.  
Their memory cannot live long, who make Authority a Sanctuary to wrong. pag. 193.  
Virtue defined, and by it true Gentility with the honour of an ancient family expressed, pag. 194.  
An accurate connexion with a personal application of the preceding Subjects, to all Gentlewomen. pag. ibid. & 195.  
Be women never so eminent, they are but painted Trunks, if virtue be not resident. pag. 196  
Virtue should not only be resident but precedent over all their actions. ibid.  
No Cloth takes such deep tincture, as the cloth of Honour. ibid.  
No Pleasure can be constant, unless it afford inward content. pag. 197.  
There is nothing asperseth a deeper stain upon the Cloth of Honour, than too much attention unto Sycophants. ibid.  
Sovereign receipts against the poison of flattery; with a serious exhortation to the entertainment of humility, patience, constancy, and every generous virtue. pag. ibid. & 198. 199.  
Violets though they grow low and near the earth, smell sweetest: and Honour appears the fullest of beauty, when she is humblest. pag. 198.  
Honour, if truly grounded, can look in the face of terror, and never be amated. ibid.  
She that makes virtue her object, cannot but make every Earthly thing her Subject. ibid.  
Honour's imprezza and Pasture. ibid.  
Honour's complete armour, dress, and portraiture. Pag. 200  
HER Description, with motives to her imitatation. ibid.  
A brief but useful application. pag. 201.  
Honourable Personages should be Precedents of goodness. Pag. ibid.  
LANDMARKS are usually erected for direction of the Mariner, and Magistrates elected for instruction of the inferior. ibid.  
The world, a Maze of Misery, a vale of vanity? ibid. Man, a story of calamity, a statue of infelicity.  
To be a Lady of Honour, is more than titular. Pag. 202.  
Three especial Objects, upon which Honourable personages are to reflect. Charity. Pag. ibid. Chastity. Humility.  
A most accurate and serious discourse on each particular Object. Pag. 202. 203. 204  
The very last day to an honourable Christian, is every day's memorial. ibid.  
The actions of Noble Personages, like sweet odours, diffuse themselves by imitation to their followers. pag. 205.  
Those that are followers of their persons, will be followers likewise of their lives. ibid.  
Their private family is a familiar Nursery. ibid.  
Fowl enormities must admit of no Privileges: Eminent Persons are to be their own Censors. ibid.  
An excellent application, by way of Exhortation to all such honourable Censors. pag. 205. 206.  
Virtue's are more permanent Monuments, than Statues, styles, trophies, or oboliskes. ibid.  
Virtue or Vice, whethersoever takes hold first, retains a deeper impression in honour, than any lower Subject. ibid.  
In these, whom Nobility of blood hath advanced, be ever some seeds or semblances of their Progenitors retained. ibid.  
This con●●rmed by Philosophical reason and example; Precedent and Precept. pag. 207  
Great minds are many times sick of great maladies: how this by timely prevention may be seasonably cured. pag. 208.  
The efficient cause, why Virtue or Vice, whethersoever takes hold first, retains a deeper impression in Honour, than in any lower Subject; illustrated by instance. ibid.  
First Motions have deep impressions; first Notions firm retentions. Pag. 209.  
The greatest profit of Honourable personages, is to become Proficients in the practice of virtue; Their highest delight, to subdue their delights to the obedience of reason, for the love of virtue. ibid.  
The Corruption of time hath introduced that deformity of fashion, as it asperseth on our formal imitators much imputation. ibid.  
Where Youth is initiated in affectation of State, it partakes in age of too much Pride. ibid.  
The humour, temper, and danger of our Tame-Beasts, or State-Parasites. pag. 210  
A reservancy of State in Pace, face, & every Posture, recommended by an insinuating Faun, to a Fantastic Gallant. ibid.  
Sycophancy the ruin of many a Noble family. ibid.  
An election of honest and discreet followers. ibid.  
Gentlewoman's lives, as they are lives to themselves, so should they be lights unto others. ibid.  
For Popular honour, Vice will but varnish it; it is Virtue that will richly enamel it. Singular motives to Mortification. ibid. pag. 211.  
That Virtue may receive the first impression, by means of an inbred noble disposition, seconded by helps of Education. ibid.  
A pleasant Epigram alluding to all humorous Ladies. Marg. pag. 212.  
A Choice recollection and expression of such virtues as sort and suit with the condition of our noblest Ladies: with Cautions to attemper them in all extremes: by an useful reflection upon all the Senses; and those Commanding passions, which domineer most over the Senses. pag. 212. 213.  
A singular Meditation for recollection of our affections. pag. 214. 215.  
Vice throws her aspersions on no subject, so much as on Honour. pag. 215.  
A fruitful application to all young Gentlewomen, for regulating their dispositions, and how to make them true inheritrices of Honour. pag. ibid. & 216.  
Virtue reduced to habit, aspires to perfection. pag. ibid.  
There is nothing under the heaven, that can satisfy a Soul created for heaven. ibid.  
Exquisite directions for Virgins, Wives, and Widows. pag. ibid. & 217.  
We are to esteem no life sweeter, than when every day improves us and makes us better. ibid.  
A divine Contemplation, reflecting upon our mutability on Earth, our immortality in Heaven. pag. 218.  
A Revew of our Lady's Court and City solace. ibid.  
Recreations run in a Maze, while they lay their Scene of Mirth on Earth. ibid.  
A Twofold consideration full of sweet and select consolation. ibid. & 219.  
How happy many Eminent Personages had been, had they never been taken with this Shadow of happiness. ibid. & 219.  
No passage to the Temple of 
* HONOUR virtutis praemium, VIRTUS honoris pretium.  Honour, but through the Temple of Virtue. ibid.  
If Gentlewomen desire to be great, let it be their height of ambition to aspire to honour in the Court of virtue. ibid.  
What a brave Saliquor State shall Gentlewomen enjoy, when vigilancy, becomes Warden of their Cinque Ports. pag. 220.  
Perseverance, the Crown of goodness. ibid.  
A constant resolution, the Diadem of a Christian in her dissolution. pag. 221.  
A Character, entitled; A Gentlewoman; wherein such an One is described, whose desert answers her descent; whose actions truly ennoble herself: with a brief touch or revew of all his Observations; Which are shown to be Objects of her love, improvements of her life.    

THE ENGLISH Gentlewoman.  
Argument.  
The Necessity of Apparel; Of the Use and Abuse of Apparel; Two means by which the Use may be inverted to Abuse; That Apparel most comely, which confers on the Wearer most native beauty, and most honour on her Country.  

APPAREL. 
APPAREL.   
HAD ADAM never committed sin, 
Obseruat. 1.  he had never needed figge-leaves to cover his shame. 
The necessity of Apparel.  Sin made him fly to the grove for shelter, and shame compelled him to play the artless Tailor, and through mere necessity to make him a Cover. Well enough was he before that time attired, albeit naked: and so happily stated, as we are to imagine, that ignorance kept him not from the knowledge of his nakedness, but that his Original purity freed him from these necessities. But no sooner was the forbidden fruit tasted, then poor Adam became tainted, his nakedness discovered; so as now for honour of modesty, he must of necessity betake himself to that science, whereto (being free till that time) he was never bound Apprentice. His inhibited taste made him sensible (and therein more miserable) of what before he felt not. No distemperature of cold or heat could before that time annoy him. Now his failing in performing what he ought, brings him to a feeling of that he never knew. Now tender Eve, whose temperate repose ministered her all content in a sweet and cheerful Arbour, with all the varieties and delicacies of nature, feels a shaking & shivering in her joints: Such a strange distemper hath the taste of an Apple wrought in her. She must fit herself then to endure that with patience, which she procured to herself and second self, through disobedience; and put on what before she needed not, a Veil to cover her Nakedness, and subject herself to these Necessities. It is true, that Clothing keeps the body warm two ways: By keeping in the natural heat of the body; and by keeping out the accidental cold of the Air. All Creatures enter the world sheelded and shrouded, save only poor man, who enters lists naked. Tender and delicate he is by nature; more subject to prejudice by distemper, than any other Creature. Now to fence himself against all occurrents, and the better to endure all intemperate violence, the Divine Providence hath accommodated itself to his Necessity, from the very first entrance of his infancy: yet were it fit, when he reflects upon himself thus decked and attired, to recall to mind the prime occasion of these Necessities. So equally tempered was the Air where he first breathed; so fare from the distemper of heat or cold freed; with such variety of all delights stored; as then in all happiness he seemed to be stated: but presently after his fall, began these to fail. That soil, which before was naturally fruitful, became wild without manuring: Those Rivers, which before were purely relishing and delighitng, became muddy, brackish, and distasting: Yea, that Air, which before was ever sweetly and temperately breathing, became unseasonably scorching or freezing. Necessity then hath provided for Adam and his Collapsed posterity a Coat, to shroud them from the inclemency of all seasons. And whence came this necessity, but from sin? To glory then in these necessities, is to glory in sin. Which were, as if some grave Capital offender, having committed high Treason against his Sovereign, should, notwithstanding, out of a Princely Clemency be pardoned; yet with this condition, that he should wear a Cord or Halter about his neck during his life, to put him in remembrance of his disloyalty and treason. In which Badge, this frontless Traitor should pride himself more, than if it were some ancient Crest of honour. Reflect then upon the original source of your sorrow, Eve, ye daughters of Eue. Ambition prompt her to sin, sin brought her to shame, shame to her shroud. Mere necessity compelled her to wear what before she knew not, and to provide herself of that which before she needed not. How is it then, that these rags of sin, these robes of shame, should make you idolise yourselves? How is it, that ye convert that which was ordained for necessity, to feed the light-flaming fuel of licentious liberty? Was Apparel first intended for keeping in natural heat, and keeping out accidental cold? How comes it then that you wear these thin Cobweb attires, which can neither preserve heat, nor repel cold? Of what an incurable cold would these Butterfly-habits possess the wearer, were pride sensible of herself? Sure, these attires were not made to keep cold out, but to bring cold in. No necessity, but mere vanity, introduced these Pye-coloured fopperies amongst us. Unveil many of our light Courtesans, whose brothel practice hath reft them of the ornament of a woman, and you will find a strange Metamorphosis; Venus armata turned to Venus calua. We say there is no good congruity in a proud heart and a beggar's purse. Why should we then pride ourselves in that which displays our beggary? Before we had clothes, we wanted nothing; having clothes, we stand in need of all things. Primitive purity exempted us from these necessities; Original impurity subjected us to these necessities. Cold we grew in Charity, cold in every Christian duty; garments than stood we in need of, to shroud us against the tempest of a benumbed Conscience. These habits then, it appears, were ordained, at first, for necessity to shield us: Vanity had not then set invention on work, nor the age sent her Phantastickes abroad to traffic with sorraine fashions. Winter made choice of his garment to fit the season; so did Summer, without an affected singularity, fit him to a seasonable fashion. They stood not much either upon colour or curious border; temperate heat they desired to retain, intemperate to repel; cold to keep out, natural warmth to keepe●in. This was that, ancient times intended; this was all that they affected. Necessity enforced them to do what they did; otherwise, I am persuaded, they had not been, to this day, made. Those than that esteem more of Apparel, how gorgeous soever, than of a work of Necessity, detract from their own glory, to suit themselves in stuffs of vanity.  
THere is nothing in its own nature so absolutely good, 
The use of Apparel.  but it may be corrupted; what was at first intended for some good Use, if perverted, declines into some apparent Abuse. Now Gentlewomen, (for to you I direct this discourse) would you observe the right use, and divert in no particular from the Ordinance of Apparel; Modesty must be your guide, virtuous thoughts your guard, so shall heaven be your goal. When the Roman Princes, in their Conquests, or triumphant honours, were with acclamations and volleys of salutes received, by the general applause of the people extolled, and in their triumphal Eb●r or Chair of estate seated; there stood always one behind them in their Throne, to pull them by the sleeve with this Memorial; Remember thou art mortal. A more useful Memorial you cannot have, than these Robes you wear, of your own frailty, nor a more effectual motive to humility. Had not sin worn you out of God's ●auour, and reft you of your native splendour, you had never worn these habits, signals of your dishonour. I commend her for the good use which she made of her Apparel, who never died her garment, but she watered it with a tear, remembering what necessities her ambitious thoughts had brought her to: for by aspiring to know more than she did, she became deprived of that excellent beauty which she had. Patterns likewise of modesty you may be, and herein singularly useful by your examples, unto others of your sex. Nor can you possibly express it better, then in observing that divine precept, by learning how to array yourselves in comely apparel, with sham● fastness and modesty, not with broided hair, or gold, or pearls, or costly apparel: But, as becometh women that profess the fear of God. For even after this manner in time past did the holy women, which trusted in God, tyre themselves. Here is a prescript form by way of direction; for your habit. Choicer ornaments you cannot have to adorn you; nor any fashion that will better seem you. Where you walk, you may enjoy yourselves freed from light eyes, gazing and admiring vanity: your very habit is your Testate to witness for you: lose thoughts nestle not in your bosom, nor do wand'ring distractions surprise your breast: you have learned to your highest solace, even in every motion, action, posture, gesture, to observe modesty, as an ornament to honour. For, seeing that the very habit of the mind may be best discerned and discovered by the state or carriage of the body, the disposition of the body by the habit; to avoid scandal, and retain that Christian opinion which every one ought to preserve, we are to make choice of that attire, which confers most seeming gravity on us. This the very Heathen, whose best direction was morality, were careful of: for in the use of Apparel, they retained such constant course, as they held it the greatest blemish they could asperse upon their Nation, to introduce any new or exotic fashion, either to effeminate the dispositions of their people, or to derogate from the honour of their memorable predecessors; whose model was their direction in habit, and all other observable customs. What a simple, honest Rusticity our Ancestors retained in their wear, might be easily discerned, if we should make recourse to one of their ancient Wardrobes; where antiquity may prescribe for many ages, and constancy second what antiquity had introduced. Yea, so observant were former times of those fashions which preceding ages had recommended to them, as they held it ominous to innovate or bring in any new form, even in matters of indifferency. When Darius had altered the fashion of his Sword, which used to be Persian, into the form of the Macedonian (in the year immediately before he fought with Alexander) the Chaldees or soothsayers prophesied, that into what fashion as Darius had altered his Sword, time would reduce his State; and that the Persian glory was drawing towards her last period, by subiecting herself to the Sovereignty of Macedon. Which prediction was soon confirmed by the next years Conquest. But tell me, ye curious Dames, who hold it a derogation to your honour, to entertain aught that is vulgar; whereto were clothes first ordained, but to cover that nakedness which sin brought, and to screen that shame which the effect of sin first wrought? The use of Apparel is not to dignify the wearer, or add more beauty to the Creature. Sure I am, that a judicious eye, who measures dignity by desert, scorns to prefer the Case before the Instrument, the Rind before the Pith. Those who are worthy to be your judges, will determine your worth by what there is in you, not by what you wear on you. Let May-games and Morrices beautify themselves with Antic dress, to captivated the vulgar eye; your breeding hath been better, your judgements clearer, your observations wiser, than to stoop to such base Lures. Our life consists in the perfection or temperate infusion of natural or radical humour, or in the conservation of natural heat: to preserve this, to increase that, Nature hath provided means inward and outward. To invert the use, is to pervert the Ordinance itself: So use the outward, that you darken not the inward; so dispose of the inward, that it may rectify the outward. Reflect on antiquity, yet no farther than may suit with the decency of the age wherein you live. I am not ignorant, how many fashions formerly used, would in this age deserve rather derision than approvement. And that the infancy of the world had many shapes, as then but only in their Embryo or rather Conception, which succeeding times, accommodated by more exquisite artists, brought afterwards to perfection. Use your habit as an ornament of decency; let it not have the least Edging of vanity. Many Eyes are fixed on you, sundry motives of imitation are derived from you. Send not out one fruitless sigh for any fantastic fashion which you see: they cannot be sighs of compassion, that are sent merely out for fashion. Sigh rather that your Country should labour of so vain a birth, as to prefer foreign inventions before the ornament of a Maiden I'll, constant modesty. Spend not a fruitless hour in an unprofitable garnish of corruption: Use these outward dress as if you did not use them: Let them be rather your scorn than your pride; your contempt than content. Be those curious Cases of mortality decked or daubed with never so much adulterate beauty, they cannot confer upon themselves one beameling of lasting glory. Look upon those poor bases of frailty, your feet, what a tinkling they make, to partake of a lascivious meeting in privacy: Eye those rising mounts, your displayed breasts, with what shameless art they woo the shamefast passenger: View those wand'ring Lamps, how they rove abroad, as if they would fly out of their Lodges, and spheere themselves in some amorous Orb. Call them home, lest Dina●-like they lose themselves by straying, impeach their honour by wand'ring, bring themselves woe by their lascivious wooing. Affect no fashion that may beget in your generous bosoms a light thought; Contemn that fashion which detracts from the native beauty of the feature, or which brings it to that admiration of the Creature, as it makes it forgetful of the Creator. O how contemptible a thing is man (the word may reflect equally upon either sex) if he erect not his thoughts above man! What a poor use makes that miserable creature of his being here, who bestows so much time in the Tiring house, as he forgets what part he is to play on the Stage? O consider the preciousness of time! it is all that may be properly said ours. Neither can we term that portion of time which we call ours, years, or days, or hours. A moment is our portion, and the Commandingst Emperor hath no larger proportion. Of which moment, whatsoever is past, is not now; and whatsoever is to come, is not yet. Eye then your Hourglass, vie in tears with grains of sand. Bestow not this little scantling, this moment shorter than nothing, in too curiously attiring of vanity, but in meditating of your own frailty, and redeeming the time you have lost in security. As Apparel was ordained for necessity; use it with Christian civility. In observing this, you make the use good, which shall hereafter redound to your greater gain.  
O But the misery and levity of this age is such, 
The Abuse of Apparel.  as that becomes generally lest affected, which adorns us most; that valued most, which beseems us least. Time was indeed, and may that time once re-shine upon us, when the only flower to beloved of women, was a native red, which was shamefastness. The face knew not then what painting was, whose adulterate shape takes now acquaintance from the Shop. Then were such women matter of scan●dall to Christian eyes, which used painting their skin, powdering their hair, darting their eye. Our Commerce with foreign Nations was not for fashions, feathers, and follies. There was distinction in our attires; differences of ranks and qualities; a civil observance of decent habits; which conferred no less glory on our Isle at home, than victorious mannagements by the prowess of our Inhabitants, did abroad. If we reflect on them, we must of necessity blush at ourselves: seeing, what we have received for use, we have converted to abuse▪ That distinction which decency found out for habits vi●ile and feminine, what commixture hath it found in latter times? What near resemblance and relation hath women to man's: suiting their light feminine skirts with manlike doublets? Semiramis, that victorious Princess, commanded all to wear Tires upon their heads, and to put upon them woman's apparel without distinction, that she might reign securely without exception: Thus the comely habit of modesty became a pretended veil to an usurped Sovereignty. But these succeeding times have tired our women with tires; translating them to a plume of Feathers. Fashion is now ever under sail: the Invention ever teeming; Fantastic Wits ever breeding. More time spent how to abuse time, and corrupt licentious youth, than how to address employment for the one, or to rectify the distempers of the other. Take a survey of all degrees, and tell me what uniformity you find in this particular. And to make instance in three several places (for to these all others may have proper relation) take a more precise and punctual perusal of City, Court, and Country, and return me a brief of your Survey. In the first, you shall find many grave Matrons, modest Maids, devout Widows; but are these all? No; with these you shall find a strangely mixed generation. Some affecting nothing more than what is most novel and fantastic; Others envying what they disdainfully see in others, which fashion rather than they will miss, they will not stick to set their honour at sale: All, or most, true Biantines, carrying all their wealth about them. For the second, you shall find, amongst many other plants of promising growth and excellent proficience, sundry sweet-sented sprigs of Cinnamon, whose rind is worth all the body. No discourse can relish their formal palate, but fashion; if Eve's Kirtle should be now shown them, how they would gear their Grandam? For the last, though it be long ere they creep into form, having once attained it, they can take upon them as unbeseeming a State in a Country Pew, as if they were Ladies for that year, and had been bred in the Art of mincing since their childhood. But what are these, but such, whose expense of time is scarcely valued? Sacrificing more hours to their Looking-glass, than they reserve minutes to lament their defects. Such, whose virtuous thoughts never harbour the least conceit that may betray their honour, or deprave those more noble parts wherewith they are endowed; scorn to drown their better part in these dregs of sensuality. Virtue is their attendant, Honour their object, all inferior delights their lowest subjects. Day by day have these their task imposed, that the poison of sloth may be better avoided: No day passeth without a line, no action without a limit: observing the course of that virtuous Mirror, of whom it is said: 
In distinct hours she did divide the day,  
To walk, to work, to meditate, and pray.   
Much different from this pious resolution, was that Libertines impious conclusion, who held that none could be frequently devout in prayer, and fashionably decent in attire. She bestowed too much time on her Glass, to reserve any for her Lamp. Pride had exiled her zeal; delicacy of habit, sanctity of heart. Her day might be easily divided: She bestowed the forenoon on her skin, the afternoon on a Play, clozing her Evening Lecture with a rear supper: and this was her Christian Task. Miserable is the condition of that Creature, who, so her skin be sleake, cares not if her soul be rough. So her outward habit be pure and without blemish, values little her inward garnish. Such an one hath made a firm Contract with vanity, clozing her contemptuous age with a fearful Catastrophe. Thus fare have we discoursed of the effect or abuse itself, we are now to treat of those two sources, from whence these abuses properly arise; to wit, Delicacy in being more curious in our Choice of Apparel than necessity or decency doth require; secondly, Superfluity, in storing more variety and change of raiments than either nature needs, or reason would admit, were she not transported with a sensual affection, by giving way to what unbounded appetite requires.  
IN the search of any Mineral, 
How the use of Apparel may be inverted to abuse.  we are first to dig for the vein; and in the curing of any malevolent effect, we are duly and seriously to inquire the producing cause, that by stopping the Spring or source, we may stay the violence of the stream. We are then to insist of those two precedent means, by which the use may be inverted to abuse; and that which of itself is approvable, if observed with decency, becomes justly reprehensible by corrupting so necessary and consequent an use, either by delicacy, which weakens and effeminates the spirit, or by Superfluity, which ever darkens the beameling of reason with the Cloud of sense.  
Reproof touching Apparel may be occasioned from four respects:  
First, when any one weareth Apparel above their degree, exceeding their estate in precious attire. Whence it is that Gregory saith; there be some who are of opinion, that the wear of precious or sump●tuous Apparel is no sin: Which if it were no fault, the divine Word would never have so punctually expressed, nor historically related, how the Rich man, who was tormented in hell, was clothed with Purple and Silk. Whence we may note, that touching the matter or subject of attire, humane curiosity availeth highly. The first stuff or substance of our garments, was very mean; to wit, Skin with Wool. Whence it is we read, that God made Adam and his wife Coats of Skins, that is, of the Skins of dead beasts. Afterwards (see the gradation of this vanity derived from humane singularity) they came to Pure Wool, because it was lighter than Skins. After that to rinds of trees, to wit, Flax. After that to the dung and ordure of Worms, to wit, S●●ke. Lastly, to Gold and Silver, and precious Stones. Which preciousness of attire highly displeaseth God. For instance whereof (which the very Pagan's themselves observed) we read that the very first among the Romans, whoever wore Purple, was struck with a Thunderbolt, and so died suddenly, for a terror and mirror to all succeeding times, that none should attempt to lift himself proudly against God in precious attire.  
The second point reprehensible is, Softness or Delicacy of Apparel: Soft clothes introduce soft minds. Delicacy in the habit, begets an effeminacy in the heart. john Baptist, who was sanctified in his mother's womb, wore sharp and rough garments. Whence we are taught, that the true servant of God is not to wear garments for beauty or delight, but to cover his nakedness; not for State or Curiosity, but necessity and convenience. Christ saith in his Gospel, They that are clad in soft raiments, are in King's houses. Whence appeareth a main difference betwixt the servants of Christ and of this world. The servants of this world seek delight, honour, and pleasure in their attire; whereas the servants of Christ so highly value the garment of innocence, as they loathe to stain it with outward vanities. It is their honour to put on Christ jesus; other robes you may rob them of, and give them occasion to joy in your purchase.  
The third thing reprovable is, foreign Fashions: When we desire nothing more than to bring in some Outlandish habit different from our own; in which respect (so Apishly-anticke is man) it becomes more affected than our own. Against such the Lord threatneth, 
Zephan. 1.  I will visit the Princes and the King's children, and all such as are clothed with strange Apparel. Which strange Apparel is after diverse fashions and inventions, wholly unknown to our Ancestors. Which may appear sufficiently to such, who within this 30, or 40, or 60 years never saw such cutting, carving, nor indenting as they now see.  
The fourth thing reprovable is, Superfluity of Apparel, expressed in these three particulars: first, in those who have diverse changes and suits of clothes; who had rather have their garments eaten by mo●ths, than they should cover the poor members of Christ. The naked cry, the needy cry, and shreekingly complain unto us, how they miserably labour and languish of hunger and cold. What avails it them that we have such changes of raiments neatly plaited and folded; rather than we will supply them, they must be starved? How do such rich Moath-wormes observe the Doctrine of Christ, when he saith in his Gospel; He that hath two Coats let him give one to him that hath none?  
Secondly, we are to consider the Superfluity of such who will have long garments, purposely to seem greater: yet, which of these can add one cubit to his stature? This puts me in remembrance of a conceited story which I have sometimes heard, of a diminutive Gentleman, who demanding of his Tailor, what yards of Satin would make him a Suit, being answered fare short in number of what he expected: with great indignation replied, Such an one of the Guard to my knowledge had thrice as much for a Suit, and I will second him. Which his Tailor with small importunacy condescended to, making a Gargantn●'s Suit for this Ounce of man's flesh, reserving to himself a large portion of shreads, purposely to form a fit proportion for his Ganymede shape.  
The third Superfluity ariseth from their vanity, who take delight in wearing great sleeves, misshapen Elephantine bodies, trains sweeping the earth, with huge poakes to shroud their fantastic heads, as if they had committed some egregious fact which deserved that censure: for in the Eastern Countries it hath been usually observed, that such light Women as had distained their honour, or laid a public imputation on their name, by consenting to any libidinous act, were to have their heads sowed up in a poke, to proclaim their shame, and publish to the world the quality of their sin.  
NOw to insist more punctually on that effeminatour both of youth and age, 
Delicacy of Apparel.  Delicacy of Apparel; I would have our Daughters of Albion, reflect upon themselves, those poor shells of corruption: what a trimming and tricking they bestow on their brittle houses. Petrarches advice was, that we should not be afraid though our outhouses, these structures of our bodies, were shaken, so our souls, the guests of our bodies, fared well. Whereas contrariwise, these, whose only care is to delude the outward appearance with a seeming fair, so they may preserve the varnish, disualue the foundation. O may this folly be a stranger to our Nation! To allay which fury, at temper which frenzy, I hold no receipt more sovereign than to enter into a serious meditation of your frailty. As first to consider, what you were before your birth; secondly, what from your birth to your death; lastly, what after death. If you reflect upon the first, you shall find that you have been, what before you were not, afterwards were what now you are not, first made of vile matter (see the Emblem of humane nature) wrapped in a poor skin, nourished in an obscure place, your Coat the second skin, till you came to a sight of the Sun, which you entertained with a shriek, implying your original sin. Thus attired, thus adorned came you to us; what makes you then so unmindful of that poor case wherein you came among us? Hath beauty, popular applause, youthful heat, or wealth taken from you the knowledge of yourselves? Derive your pedigree, and blush at your matchless folly, that pride should so highly magnify itself in dust, or glory most in that which brings with it the most shame. Why do you walk with such haughty necks? why do you extol yourselves so highly in these Tabernacles of earth? Attend and consider; you were but vild corrupted seed at the first; and now fuller of pollution than at the first. Entering the world with a shriek to express your ensuing shame, you became afterwards exposed to the miseries of this life and to sin, in the end worms and worms meat shall you be in the grave. Why then 〈◊〉 you proud, ye dusty shrines, ye earthen vessels; seeing your conception was impurity, birth misery, life penalty, death extremity? Why do ye embellish and adorn your flesh with such port and grace, which within some few days worms will devour in the grave? Mean time you neglect the incomparable beauty of your souls. For with what ornaments do ye adorn them? With what sweet odours or spiritual graces do ye perfume them? With what choice Flowers of piety and devotion do ye trim them? What Habits do ye prepare for them, when they must be presented before him who gave them? How is it that ye so disesteem the soul, preferring the flesh before her? For the Mistress to play the Handmaid, the Handmaid the Mistress, is a great abuse. There can be no success in that family, where the household is managed so disorderly. O restrain your affections, limit your desires, bear an equal hand to the better part! The Building cannot stand unless you remove the rubbish from the foundation. The Soul in the body is like a Queen in her Palace. If you would then have this little Commonwealth within you to flourish, you must with timely providence suppress all factious and turbulent molesters of her peace: your passions, especially those of vainglory, must be restrained; motives to humility cherished; chaste thoughts embraced; all devious and wand'ring Cogitations excluded; that the soul may peaceably enjoy herself, and in her Palace live secured. Whereto if you object, that this is an hard lesson; you cannot despise the world nor hate the flesh; tell me where are all those lovers of the world, cherishers of the flesh, which not long since were among us? Nothing now remaineth of them but dust and worms. Consider diligently (for this consideration will be a Counterpoise to all vainglory) what they now are, and what they have been. Women they were as you are: they have eat, drunk, laughed, spent their days in jollity, and now in a moment gone down to hell. Here their flesh is apportioned to worms, there their souls appointed to hell fire: till such time as being gathered together to that unhappy society, they shall be rolled in eternal burnings, as they were before partakers with them in their vices. For one punishment afflicteth, whom one love of sin affecteth. Tell me, what profiteth them their vainglory, short joy, worldly power, pleasure of the flesh, evil got wealth, a great family, and concupiscence arising carnally? Where now is their laughter? Where their jests? Where their boasting? Where their arrogance? From so great joy, how great heaviness? After such small pleasure, how great unhappiness? From so great joy they are now fallen into great wretchedness, grievous calamity, unsufferable torments. What hath befallen them, may befall you: being Earth of Earth, slime of slime: Of Earth you are, of Earth you live, and to Earth you shall return. Take this with you for an infallible position in these your Cottages of Corruption: If you follow the flesh, you shall be punished in the flesh: if you be delighted in the flesh, you shall be tormented in the flesh: for by how much more your flesh is cockered in this world with all delicacy; by so much more shall your souls be tormented in hell eternally. If you seek curious and delicate raiments, for the beauty and bravery of your raiments shall the moth be laid under you, and your Covering shall be Worms. And this shall suffice to have been spoken touching Delicacy of Apparel: we are now to descend briefly to the second branch, Superfluity; whereof we intent to discourse with that brevity, as the necessity of the Subject, whereof we treat, shall require, and the generality of this spreading malady may enforce.  
Divine is that saying, 
Superfluity of Apparel.  and well worthy your retention: The covetous person before he gain loseth himself, and before he take aught is taken himself. He is no less wanting to himself in that which he hath, than in that which he hath not. He finds that he lost not, possesseth that he owes not, detains that he ought not, and hates to restore what he injuriously enjoys. So unbounded is the affection, or rather so depraved is the avaricious man's inclination, as he cannot contain his desires within bounds, nor enter parley with reason, having once slaved his better part to the sovereignty of a servile affection. This may appear even in this one particular. Food and raiment are a Christians riches: wherein he useth that moderation, as he makes that Apostolical rule his Christian direction: Having food and raiment, I have learned in all things to be contented. But how miserably is this golden rule inverted, by our sensual worldling? Competency must neither be their Cater in the one, nor Conveniency their Tailor in the other. Their Table must labour of variety of dishes, and their Wardrobe of exchange of raiments. No reason more probable than this of their naked insides, which stand in need of these superfluous additaments. What myriads of indisposed hours consume these in beautifying rotten tombs! How curious they are in suiting their bodies, how remiss in perferring their soul's suit to their Maker! How much they are disquieted in their choice, how much perplexed in their change, how irresolute what they shall wear, how forgetful of what they were! This edging suits not, that pirle sorts not, this dressing likes not: off it must after all be fitted, and with a new Exchange, less seemly, but more gaudy suited. The fashion that was in prime request but yesterday, how it gins to disrelish the wearer, as if it had lost the beauty by unseasonable weather; thus is fashion fallen into a quotidian Fever: See our compleatest Fashionmongers, how much they tire themselves with their attiring, how they trouble themselves with their trimming! It seems wonderful to me, that they are not wholly crushed, with that onerous burden with which they are pressed. What a shop of guga nifles hang upon one back? Here the remainder of a greater work, the relics of an ancient Manor converted to a pearl Chain. There the moiety of an ill-husbanded demaine reduced to a Carcanet. Long trains must sweep away long acres: the Epidemical vanity of this age doth exact it; and she is held least worthy affecting, that doth least affect it. What; says my delicate Madam; Is it for one of my rank or descent to affect what is vulgar? how then should I become popular? I confess, we are all composed of one Earth, yet is there to be presupposed a difference in our birth. Were it fitting that I should fall off, either from that delicacy which is generally approved, or that variety which is by our more generous formalists applauded? What avails a mighty fortune to a miserable disposer? Or brave means, where a base mind is the dispenser? Apparel must be with delicacy sorted, variety suited, or the dignity of the person, be it never so conspicuous, will be obscured. Admit, variety be mere superfluity, at worst it is but the age's vanity: which is such an universal malady, as it pleads exemption without far●●●r apology. Whereto I answer; it is true, the 〈◊〉 labours of this disease: where the eye becomes a determiner of our worth, by the outward habit which we wear: It reflects not on what is in us, but what is on us. She is not to be accounted a Court visitant, who restrains herself either in her choice of deli●acy, or variety of habit. What then? Shall a vicious or effeminate age deprave your judgement? Or a corrupt time deprive you of judgement? No; you have more absolute perfections within you, than to be blemished with these imperfections which you too frequently carry about you. The more you display your pye-coloured flag of vanity; the more Lures you throw out of losest liberty; the more foments you use of soule-soyling delicacy; the deeper Lodging you bespeak yourselves in the Lake of eternal misery. To such I only speak, who, so they may furnish themselves of a dainty artist, to teach them how to dye well, make it the least of their care how to live well. These who love to dye their hair, but never change the die of their corrupted heart; These will not stick with frontless impudence to bolster their depraved liberty. They may be, without control, dispensers and disposers of their own. This variety and delicacy wherein they express themselves by an especial mark of distinction from others, they derive it from the affluence of their own fortunes, and not from others: which being so justly enjoyed, and without injury, admits no exception in all probability. Whereto I reply, with the words of a Divine Father, 
Basil.  Art not thou, whosoe'er thou be, a Robber, who hast received goods as a Steward or dispenser; and entitlest thyself the impropriator or owner? for what fair glozes or pretences, soever, thou makest for thyself, to gil● thy shame, or mince thy sin, it is the bread of the needy, which thou with-holdest; the Coat of the naked which in thy Chest thou storest; the shoes of the barefoot, which with thee lie rotting; the coin of the beggar, which with thee lies moulding. Away then with these Superfluous dress; you see daily objects of your charity, bring out your wardrobe, and clothe the naked. That which you so prodigally spent upon yourselves, convert it to the more glorious attiring of your naked souls. See that your King's daughter be all glorious within, that the King of Kings may take pleasure in her. Let not so precious an Image be defaced, so specious a Virgin defiled, so glorious a Creature dishonoured. Instead of Delicacy, deck yourselves Modestly; instead of Superfluity, out of your variety communicate freely to others necessity. We are now to descend briefly to the last branch of this first Observation, declaring, how, That Apparel is most comely, which confers on the Wearer most native beauty, and most honour on her Country.  
AS that is ever held most generous which is least affected, 
That Apparel most comely, which confers on the Wearer most native beauty, and most honour on her Country.  most genuine which is least forced; so there is nothing which confers more true glory on us, then in displaying our own Country's garb by that we wear upon us. The Crow in the fable was sharply taxed for her borrowed feathers: The fable, though it spoke of a Crow●, the Moral pointed at a man. Habit (we say) is a Custom; why should it be our custom to change our Habit? With what constancy some other Nations observe their native attire, Histories both ancient and modern will sufficiently inform us. Nothing is held more contemptible with them, than apishly to imitate foreign fashions: Prescription is their Tailor, antiquity their Tutor. Amongst the ancient Heathen, even their very habit distinguished Widows from Matrons, Matrons from Virgins. So as not only sexes, states, conditions, years, but even lineages, razes, and families were remarkably discovered. We usually observe such a fashion to be French, such an one Spanish, another Italian, this Dutch, that Poland. Mean time where is the English? surely, some precious Elixir extracted out of all these. She will neither rely on her own invention, nor compose herself to the fashion of any one particular Nation, but make herself an Epitomised confection of all. Thus becomes she not only a stranger to others, but to herself. It were to be wished, that as our Country is jealous of her own invention in contriving, so she were no less cautelous in her choice of wearing. Gregory the great thought that Angleses did nearly symphonize with Angels, not so much in letter, as in favour and feature: Were it not pity that these should darken their beauty with veils of deformity? Truth is, there is nothing which confers more native beauty on the wearer, than to be least affective in whatsoever she shall wear, She asperseth a great blemish on her better part, who ties herself to that formality, as she dare not put off the least trifle that she wears, nor put on aught more than she wears, lest she should lose the opinion of Complete. There is a native modesty even in attire as well as gesture, which better becomes, and would more fully accomplish her, if fashion were not such a pearl in her eye, as it keeps her from the sight of her own vanity. I confess, light heads will be easily taken with such toys: yea, I have sometimes observed a fantastic dressing strike an amorous inconsiderate Gooseling sooner into a passionate ah me, with a careless love sick wreathing of his enfolded arms, than some other more attractive object could ever do. But what is the purchase of one of these Green-wits worth? what benefit can a young Gentlewoman reapin enjoying him, who scarcely ever enjoyed himself? Means he may have, but so meanly are they seconded by inward abilities, as his state seems fi●ter to manage him, than he to marshal it. A long Lock he has got, and the art to frizle it; a Ring in a string, and the trick to handle it: for his discourse, to give him his true Character, his silence approves him better; for his wit, he may laugh at a conceit, and his conceit ne'er the wiser; for his other parts, disclaiming his substance, I appeal to his picture. Now, Gentlewoman, tell me, do you trim yourself up for this Popiniay? Would you have the fool to wear you, after so many follies have outworn you? Let modesty suit you, that a discreeter mate may choose you. Be it your prime honour to make civility your director. This will incomparably more grace you, than any fantastic attire, which, though it be get admiration, it clozeth always with derision. You cannot possibly detract more from the renown of your Country, where you received birth and education, than by too hot a quest or pursuit afer Outlandish fashions. 
BEHAVIOUR  Play not the Dotterel, in this too apish and servile Imitation; let other Countries admire your Constancy and Civility: while they reflect both on what you wear and what you are. Be it your glory to improve your Country's fame. Many eyes are fixed on you, and many hearts will be taken with you, if they behold those two Ornaments, Modesty, and Humility, ever attending you: Discretion will be more taken and enamoured with these, than toys and feathers. There is nothing so rough but may be polished; nor ought so outwardly fair but may be disfigured. Whereas the beauty of these two cannot by adulterate Art be more graced, by the aged furrows of time become defaced, or by any outward Occurrent impaired. There are many beauteous and sumptuous Cases, whose Instruments are out of tune. These may please the eye, but they neither lend nor leave a sweet accent in the Eare. May-buds of fading beauty; Fruits which commonly fall before they be ripe, and tender small sweetness to them that reap. These Baths of voluptuous delights, chaste feet disdain to approach. Virtue must either be suited with Consorts like herself, or they must give her leave solely to enjoy herself. Be you Maids of honour to this maiden Princess. Consecrate your day to virtuous actions, your night to useful recollections. Think how this World is your Stage, your Life an Act. The Tiring-house, where you bestowed such care, cost and curiosity, must be shut up, when your Night approacheth. Prepare Oil for your virgin Lamps; marriage robes for your chaste souls; that advancing the honour of your Country here on Earth, in your translation from hence, you may find a Counte●y in heaven.   

THE ENGLISH Gentlewoman.  
Argument.  
Behaviour reflects on three particulars; How to behave herself in Company; How in privacy: That Behaviour most approved, which is clearest from affectation freed.  
BEHAVIOUR. 
BEHAVIOUR   
Behaviour being an apt composure of the body in arguments of discourse and Action, 
Obseruat. 2.  expresseth every person in so fair a Character, that if his breast were transparent, he could not be displayed fuller. Albeit, some love to become so estranged or retired rather from the eye of the world, as they have made it their highest art and absolutest aim, to shroud themselves from the conceit or discussion of man: by entering covenant or contract with Dissimulation, to appear least to the eye, what they are most in heart, Of this stamp was Tiberius, who gloried in nothing so much (neither indeed had he many demeriting parts to glory in) as in cunningly cloaking his foul purposes with fair pretences, going invisible, and deluding his Subjects anxious resolutions with a seeming good. Sometimes imminency of danger begetting an apprehension of fear, will produce this effect: whence it was, that Agrippina in Tacitus knowing her life to be attempted by Ne●o, knew well that her only remedy was to take no notice of the treason. Neither is it rare to find a stayed look, and a stayed thought in one and the same subject. But for as much as this is held the seldomest erring Index, ever expressing innocent thoughts the best, and discovering disloyal thoughts the soon, we are to proceed to such particulars as the Subject principally reflects on: which are three; Action, Affection, Passion: 
Behaviour reflects on three particulars.  whereon we purpose so to insist, as what deserves approvement in each of these particulars, may be by our Nobly disposed Gentlewomen cheerfully entertained, carefully retained, and to the improvement of their Fame, the choicest Odour, chiefest honour of true Nobility, employed.  
Virtue is the life of action, 
ACTION.  action the life of man: without the former, all actions are fruitless: without the latter, all our days are useless. Now in this one subject, it is strange to observe what diversity of active dispositions we shall find. Some are employed to the purpose, but they are so remiss in their employment, as they lose the benefit of it. Others are employed to no purpose, making a passing of time a mere pastime, coming as fare short of one useful action at their death, as they were incapable of it at their birth▪ Others sleep out their time in careless security: saluting the morning with a sacrifice to their Glass: the Noon with a luscious repast; the Afternoon with a Play or a Pallet repose; the Evening with a wanton consort, accoutred with a reere-banket, to belull the abused soul with the sleep of an incessant surfeit. Others have crept into such an Apish formality; as they cannot for a world discourse of aught without some mimic gesture or other, which, seem it never so complete to them, appears ridiculous to the beholder. This was Sempr●nia's error, for which she was generally taxed, before ever her honour was publicly tainted. What a tinkling you shall observe some to make with their feet, as if they were forthwith to dance a Morris? They are ever in motion like Puppets, but in actions of goodness mere Punies. Their pace is a Pavin in the street; their look a Lu●e to a lascivious attempt; They express nothing by their gesture worthy the image they bear. Besides, who is he, whose judgement will not tax these of lightness, by these light and uncivil appearances? A woman's honour is of higher esteem, than to be thus disvalue. Light occasions are many times grounds of deep aspersions. Actions are to be seasoned with discretion, seconded by direction, strengthened with instruction, lest too much rashness bring the undertaker to destruction. In the Maze or Labyrinth of this life, many be our cares, mighty be our fears, strong our assailants, weak our assistants, unless we have that brazen wall within us to fortify us against all occurrents, O then, let not the least action betray you to your enemy, for you have many; within you, for they are dangerous, because domestical; without you, for they are strangers, and therefore doubtful! Let your Actions be your applausivest Actors; The Scene of your life is short, so live that your noble actions may preserve your memory long. It was Seneca's counsel to his dear friend Lucilius, that whensoever he went about to do any thing, he should imagine Cato, or Scipio, or some other worthy Roman to be in presence. To second his advice, which may confer on your glorious actions eternal praise, set always before your eyes, as an imitable mirror, some good woman or other, before whom you may live, as if she eyed you, she viewed you. You may find women, though weak in sex and condition, yet parallels to men, for charity, chastity, piety, purity, and virtuous conversation. Reui●●● those ancient families of Rom●, and you shall find those famous Matrons, Octavia, Portia, Ca●cilia, Cornelia, make a Pagan State seem morally Christian. Nor were Nicostrata, mother to evander, C●r●ina, Sapph, women less famous for Learning, than the other for blameless living. Neither have our modern times less flourished with feminine worthies, as might be illustrated with sundry eminent instances, if I would re●lect upon this Subject: but this hath been the Theme of sundry Panegyric Poems, which makes me more sparing in it: Only in your behalf, and to your honour, let me retort their Critic Censure, who draw from the very Etymon of your name an occasion of error. 
Women are woe to men; No, they're the way,  
To bring them homeward when they run astray.   
In a word, conform yourselves to such patterns as are imitable; imitate them in all such actions as are laudable; So live, that none may have occasion to speak evilly of you, if they speak truly. The memory of Dorcas liveth still; She was full of good works and alms which she did. Yea, even the very Coats and Garments which she made, while she was living, were shown the Apostle as arguments of he● industry, memorials of her piety. Hence it was that Saint Jerome, that excellent pattern of holy Discipline, serious professor of Divine Doctrine, counselleth the holy Virgin Demetrias to eschew idleness: Exhorting her withal, that having done her prayers, she should take in hand wool and weaving, after the commendable example of Dorcas, that by such change or variety of works, the day might seem less tedious, and the assaults of Satan less grievous; concluding his devout Exhortation, with this definite position. I speak generally, no raiment, ornament, or habit whatsoever, shall seem precious in Christ's sight, but that which thou makest thyself, either for thine own peculiar use, or example of other Virgins, or to give unto thy Grandmother, or thy Mother, no, though thou distribute all thy goods unto the poor. See how strictly this holy Father proceeds with his religious Daughter! Yet was this Demetrias, to whom he addressed this his exhortation, a Noble Lady; not one, whom poverty did enforce to actions of such necessity: but one honourably descended, richly endowed, powerfully friended. Let this Lady be your Pattern, her action your direction, her obedience your instruction, that you may share with her in a peaceful dissolution. Entertain no time without some devout task: reflect upon the Nobleness of your descent, ennoble it with excellence of desert. 
For you must know true honour is not won,  
Until some honourable deed be done.   
Waste not prodigally the precious Lamp of your life without some virtuous action that may purchase love. Your time is less than a minute in respect of eternity, employ that minute so, as it may eternize your memory. Let this be your highest task; to promote the honour of your Maker, esteeming all things else a slavish and servile labour.  
THere is nothing which requires more discretion, 
AFFECTION.  than how to behave or carry ourselves while we are enthralled to affection. The Lover is ever blinded (saith wise Plat●) with affection towards his beloved. Reason is laid asleep, while Sense becomes the master Wooer. Whence came that usual saying, One cannot love and be wise. But I wholly oppose myself to their assertion, who seem thus fare transported with the sensual opinion of affection. My Tenet is, One cannot truly love, and not be wise. It is a Beldame frenzy and no fancy, which gives way to fury, and admits not reason to have sovereignty. Yet in this Subject, Gentlewomen, is your temper best tried, your discretion most required, and your Patience, ofttimes, most exercised. Look therefore how you plant it, lest you bootlesly repent it, when it is misplaced.  
It is most certain, there is nothing more impatient of delay than love, nor no wound more incurable while we live. There is no exemption, all have a taste of this Potion, though it have several degrees of operation. 
Look all about you; who so young that love's not?  
Or who so old, a comely feature moves not?   
Yet what different passions arise from one and the selfsame Subject? Hear, Gentlewomen, you shall see some of your Sex so surprised with affection, as it bursts out into violent extremes; 
BEHAVIOUR  their discourse is semi-breued with sighs, their talk with tears; they walk desperately forlorn, making Lands and desolate Groves their disconsolate Consorts. Their eyes are estranged from sleep, their weakened appetite from repast, their wearied limbs from repose. Melancholy is their sole melody; They have made a Contract with grief, till grief bring them to their grave. And these poor wenches are much to be pitied, because their own tender hearts brought them to this exigent; having either set their affections, where they thought verily they might be requited and were not, or else where they received like seeming tender of affection, but afterwards rejected, what they wished to effect they could not. So as, in time, if continuance of absence reduce them not to a better temper, they fall into a poor Maudlin's distemper, by giving raines to passion, till it estrange them from the sovereignty of reason. Whereas others you shall see, though not such kind souls, nor half so passionate, yet more discreet in their Choice, and in the passages of love more temperate. These will not deign to cast a lose look upon their beloved: but stand so punctually upon their terms, as if they stood indifferent for their choice, albeit constantly resolved never to admit of any change. These scorn to paint out their passions in plaints, or utter their thoughts in sighs, or shed one dispassionate tear for an incompassionate Lover. Their Experience hath taught them better Notions: they will seemingly fly to make them follow, and so take them by whom they are most taken. They can play with the flame, and never cinge their wings; look love in the face, and preserve their eyes; converse where they take delight, and colour their affection with a seeming disdain. These are they who can walk in the Clouds to their intimatest friends: make their eyes strangers to their hearts, and conclude; nothing more foolish than Love, if discovered; nothing more wise, if artfully shadowed. But I neither approve the violence of the former, nor indifference of the latter. The one interlayeth affection with too much passion, the other with too much dissimulation. These were well to be so allayed or attempered, as neither too much eagerness tax the discretion, nor too much remissness argue coolness of affection. For the former, I must tell them they give great advantage to an insulting Lover, to ' entertain Love with such vehement ardour: it fares with these, as with hot duelists, who fight themselves out of breath, and so subject their relenting force to the command of a better tempered enemy. For the latter, they hold constantly that position in arguments of Love, as well as in other actions of their life; She knows not how to live, nor how to love, that knows not how to dissemble. I must tell these, Dissimulation sorts not well with affection: Lovers seldom read Love's Politics. Let them appear what they are with that discreet temper, as they may deserve the embraces of a Noble Lover. In brief, let such as are too hot in the quest of their desires, attemperate that heat with intermissions: such violence is best rebated by absence. Contrariwise, such as are too cool, let them quicken that easiness with their more frequent conference, and assiduate presence.  
What a furious and inconsiderate thing is Woman, 
PASSION  when Passion distempers her? how much is her Behaviour altered, as if jocasta were now to be personated? True it is, some with a bite of their lip, can snppresse an intended revenge: and like dangerous Politicians, pleasingly entertain time with one they mortally hate, till opportunity usher revenge, which they can act with as much hostility, as if that very moment were the Actor of their injury. But this Passion never works more tragic of fearful effects, than when it streams from jealousy or Competition in the Subject where they love. Whereof we have variety of instances even in our own Island, to omit Italy, which is a very Theatre of Tragic Conclusions in this kind. It is not long since we had one matchless Precedent of this stamp. It sometimes pleased a young Gentlewoman, whose fortunes had swelled her high, to settle her affection on a Gentleman of deserving parts, which he entertained with a generous requital: nothing was omitted that might any way increase this respect, or second the height of their joys. Continual resort and frequent made them inseparably one: No day so pleasing, as when they were together; No hour so tedious as when they were asunder. But how short is that moment of vading happiness, which hath in it a relish of lightness, and is not grounded on essential goodness! Long had they not thus lived, and sociably loved, but the Gentlewoman conceived some private suspicion, that herself was not sole sovereigness of his heart, but that another was become sharer in his love. Neither was this Competitrice, whom she suspected, any other than her own attendant, whose Caskets she secretly opened, where she found a Ring of especial note, which she had formerly bestowed on him. This confirmed her Conceit, changed her real love into mortal hate; which she seconded with this tragic act: Inviting him one day to a Summer Arbour, where in former times they were usually wont to repose, amidst of an amorous discourse, she casually fixed her eye upon three Lennets, one whereof picking some privet leaves purposely to build her nest, flew away, while the two which remained, lovingly billed one with another: which she intentively observing, used these words; How tenderly and intimately do those poor fool's mate it? Were it not pity they should ever be divided? Which words she had no sooner uttered, than the Shee-Lennet flew away, and left the Male alone, till another returned: with whom the Hee-Lennet billed, and amorously wooed as he had done before. Which she more seriously eyeing, O, quoth she, How light these males are in their affection! This may seem● to you an easy error, but were I judge of Birds, it should receive due censure. Why Lady (replied he) These poor Birds do but according to their kind. Yea, but what do ye kind men then, who engage your loves, interest yourselves, empawne your souls to be constant where you profess love, and perform nothing less than what you profess most. Nor would her long intended revenge admit more liberty to her tongue; for with a passionate enterbreath she clozed this speech with a fatal stab: leaving so much time to her unfortunate and disastrous Lover, as to discover to one of that sorrowful family the ground of her hate, the occasion of his fall, which hastened on the doleful Scene of her Tragedy. Now to allay or abate these passionate furies, there is no better means than to enter parley with reason; to chastise all such innovating motions as disquiet the inward repose of the mind; to use the help of such wholesome instructions, as may attemper the heat of those indisposed and inordinate passions. Anger, being an inflammation of blood about the heart, is such a fury, as to give way to it, is to disclaim reason: much wisdom is then required, mature advice to be used, all assistants of Art and Nature to be employed before this Adder can be charmed. For we shall hardly see any one more forget themselves, than when they are surprised with this Passion. Some you shall observe so amazed or entranced, as they become wholly silenced: They cannot utter an articulate word to gain a kingdom. Gladly would they express their distaste, and menace revenge, if their tongues would give them leave, but wrath hath tied them to good behaviour. Others are so voluble of tongue, as nothing can pass them untouched, to asperse disgrace on such by whom they hold themselves wronged. If any infamy (which to that time lay buried) offer itself to their memory, how they joy in the occasion of venting their malice on their persons, be their Calumny seconded with words of foulest aspersion: Which sort of people the everliving Pindarus terms persons of unbounded and unbridled tongues. To remedy which enormities, take along with you these instructions: they will benefit you much in the height and heat of your anger, and allay your passion when it rageth and riseth into hugest distemper. Forthwith, so soon as you shall perceive yourselves moved, restrain your passion; but if you cannot appease nor compose your inward Commotion, at least restrain your tongue, and enjoin it silence, that if it speak no good, it may speak no evil, lest being lose and set at liberty, it utter what wrath, and not reason dictates: More sovereign and peaceful it will be for you to retire from society, make recourse to your Oratory, by recommending to your best Physician the cure of this infirmity. Use likewise this Cordial salve to your corroding sore; the receipt is Divine, if seasonably applied, and will minister you comfort when you are most distempered. So soon as your disquieted minds begin to expostulate with the quality of your wrongs, which your Enemy is apt to aggravate and exasperate, purposely to hasten your precipitate revenge; propose and set before you all the disgraces which possibly you can suffer, and confer them with those that were aspersed on your Saviour: this will prepare you to suffer, teach you to conquer: for Arrows foreseen menace less danger.  
Likewise, when you consider the injuries which are done you by others, you may reflect upon the wrongs which are done by you unto others: for the consideration of your own infirmity, will exact of you towards others an impunity. Weigh with yourselves how much others suffer of you, how much God himself suffers of you, who, if he should have inflicted revenge for every particular offence, you should have perished long since. In a word, you yourselves are frequently grievous, and displeasing to yourselves: Seeing than you are so distasteful unto yourselves, as you must of necessity suffer many injuries and affronts from yourselves, repine not at the sufferings which are inflicted by others on ourselves.  
You are likewise to consider these discommodities which arise from this Passion; which will arm you with patience, if of yourselves you have any compassion. What avails it to be revenged, after our injury be received? Is your wound by another's wound to be cured? Or disgrace tendered, by rendering disgrace restored? Besides all this, see what he obtaineth, who anger obeyeth: 1. He is deprived of the Crown of glory, and reward of eternity: 2. He becomes a Minister and Instrument of the Devil: 3. He destroyeth his own soul, that he might hurt an others body: 
Greg.  For a dispassionate or angry person is like unto him, who that he may kill his Ass, destroyeth himself; or rather like him, who for huge debts which he is not able to discharge, is thrown into prison, and disdainfully refuseth any ones offer to pay his debt for him. For by him, who doth you wrong, is the debt which you own to God, forgiven, if with patience you suffer the injury which is done. Whereas the angry person, who will be his own revenger, telleth God how and in what sort he is to deal with him: that as he suffered not small disgraces from another, so neither should small things be suffered in him by God. As it is written, With what measure you meet, the same shall be measured to you again. Six other detriments or discommodities there be which arise from the exorbitancy of this passion. 
Ibid. lib. 5.  For by Anger is lost; 
Moral▪ cap. 31.  first, Wisdom, while reason becomes blinded. Secondly, Righteousness: for the wrath of man worketh not the righteousness of God. Thirdly, Society, for the Acquaintance of one angry man, is pleasing unto none. Be not, saith the Wiseman, a companion with the angry man. Fourthly, Concord: while peace is disturbed. Fifthly, the Light of Truth, because anger casteth the darkness of confusion upon the mind or understanding, from whom God hideth the cheerful beam of his Divine knowledge. Sixthly, the Splendour of the holy spirit: upon whom, saith the Prophet, shall my spirit rest, but upon the humble and quiet? that is, upon the meek, mild, and compassionate.  
Thus you see what benefits may be procured by attempering what discommodities incurred by fostering this Passion. Whereon I have the rather insisted, because I am not ignorant, how the strongest and constantest tempers have been, and may be distempered and disparraged by it; much more you, wha●e mainest strength consists in the expression of that Passion. At all times therefore use a moderate restraint; in the prime of your years, when youth sends forth her first promising blossoms, behave yourselves mildly without bitterness, humbly without haughtiness, modestly without lightness, soberly without childishness. The Cask will retain her first taste; the Wool her first dye. If you show too much way wardness in your youth, small good is to be expected in your age. As you tender your preferment, seem mild while you are maids, lest you prove scarecrows to a young man's bed. Conform yourselves likewise to a nuptial State, and preserve your honour without stain. Contest not with your head for preeminence: you came from him, not he from you, honour him then as he cherisheth the love he conceives in you. A domestic fury makes ill harmony in any family. The discord which was hatched and increased towards M. Anthony by Fulu●a, was ever allayed and attempered by the moderation of Octavia. Be you all Octauia's; the rougher your cross, the richer your Crown. The more that injuries press you, the more shall your patience praise you. The Conflict is but short and momentany, the Triumph glorious and impaled with eternity. And thus much touching those three particulars, whereon your Behaviour principally reflects; we are now to descend to the next branch, which shall show how a Gentlewoman of rank and quality, (for to such only is my discourse directed) is to behave herself in Company.  
SOciety is the solace of the living, for to live without it, were a kind of dying. Companions and friendly Associates are the Thiefs of time. No hour can be so tedious, which two loving Consorts cannot pass over with delight, and spend without distaste. Be the night never so dark, the place never so mean, the cheerful beams of conceiving consorts will enlighten the one, and their affections mutually planted, enliven the other. What a Desert than were the world without friends? and how poselesse those friends without conceiving minds? and how weak those minds, unless united in equal bonds? So then, love is the Cement of our life: life a load without love. Now, Gentlewomen, you are to put on your veils, and go into Company. Which (I am persuaded) you cannot enter without a maiden-blush, a modest tincture. Herein you are to be most cautelous, seeing no place can be more mortally dangerous. Beware therefore with whom you consort, 
How to behave herself in Company.  as you tender your repute: for report will brute what you are, by the Company which you bear. Augustus' being at a combat, discerned the inclinations of his two daughters, julia and Livia, by the Company which frequented them: for grave Senators talked with Livia, but riotous persons with julia. Would you preserve those precious odours of your good names? Consort with such whose names were never branded, converse with such, whose tongues for immodesty were never taxed. As by good words evil manners are corrected, so by evil words are good ones corrupted. Make no reside there, where the least occasion of lightness is ministered; avert your Ear when you hear it, but your heart especially, lest you harbour it. To enter into much discourse or familiarity with strangers, argues lightness or indiscretion: what is spoken of Maids, may be properly applied by an useful consequence to all women: They should be seen, and not heard: A Traveller sets himself best out by discourse, whereas their best setting out is silence. You shall have many trifling questions asked, as much to purpose as if they said nothing: but a frivolous question deserves to be resolved by silence. For your Carriage, it should neither ●e too precise, nor too lose. These sempring made fac●s partake more of Chambermaid than Gentlewoman. Modesty and mildness hold sweetest correspondence. You may possibly be wooed to interchange favours: Rings or Ribonds are but trifles; yet trust me, they are no trifles that are aimed at in those exchanges. Let nothing pass from you, that may any way impeach you, or give others advantage over you. Your innocent credulity (I am resolved) is as free from conceit of ill, as theirs, perhaps, from intendment of good: but these intercourses of Courtesies are not to be admitted, lest by this familiarity, an Entry to affection be opened, which before was closed. It is dangerous to enter parley with a beleagring enemy: it implies want or weakness in the besieged. Chastity is an enclosed Garden, it should not be so much as assaulted, lest the report of her spotless beauty become soiled. Such Forts hold out best, which hold themselves least secure, when they are securest. Nasica, when the Roman Commonwealth was supposed to be in most secure estate, because freed of their enemies, and strongly fenced by their friends, affirmed that though the Achaians and Carthaginians were both brought under the yoke of bondage, yet they were most in danger, because none were left, whom they might either fear for danger, or who should keep them in awe.  
How subject poor Women be to lapses, and recidi●a●ions, being left their own Guardians, daily experience can sufficiently discover. Of which number, those always proved weakest, who were confidentest of their own strength. Presumption is a daring sin, and ever brings out some untimely birth, which viperlike deprives her unhappy parent of life. I have known diverse so resolute in their undertake, so presuming of their womanish strength, so constantly devoted to a single life, as in public consorts they held it their choicest merriment to give love the affront, to discourse of affection with an imperious contempt, gear their amorous suitors out of Countenance, and make a very Whirligig of love. But mark the conclusion of these insulting spirits: they sport so long with love, till they fall to love in earnest. A moment makes them of Sovereign's Captives, by slaving them to that deservedly, which at first they entertained so disdainfully. The way then to prevent this malady, is to wean you from consorting with folly. What an excellent impregnable fortress were Woman, did not her Windows betray her to her enemy? But principally, when she leaves her Chamber to walk on the public Theatre; when she throws off her veil, and gives attention to a merry tale; when she consorts with youthful blood, and either enters parley, or admits of an interview with love. It is most true what the sententious moral sometimes observed: We may be in security, so long as we are sequestered from society. Then, and never till then, gins the infection to be dispersed, when the sound and sick begin to be promiscuously mixed. Tempt not Chastity; hazard not your Christian liberty. You shall encounter with many forward youths, who will most punctually tender their useless service to your shadows at the very first sight: do not admit them, lest you prostitute yourselves to their prostrate service. Apelles' found fault with Protogenes, in that he could not hold his hands from his Table. Whereas our Damsels may more justly find fault with their youthful Amourists, for that they cannot hold their hands from under the Table. It is impossible to come off fair with these light-fingred fools. Your only way is to rampire your chaste intentions with Divine and Moral instructions, to stop the source, divert the occasion, subject affection to reason; so may you become Empresses of that which hath sometimes tyrannised over Emperors: By this means shall every place where you publicly resort, minister to you some object of inward comfort: By this means shall Company furnish you with precepts of chastity, enable you in the serious practice of piety, and sweetly conduct you to the port of glory.  
PRIVACY is the seat of Contemplation, though sometimes made the recluse of Tentation. From which there is granted no more exemption in the Cell, than in the Court. Hear is the Lawn where Melancholy draws her line. Hear the mind becomes our Mate; Silence, our sweetest Conference: where the retired becomes either the best or worst friend to himself. There is none, who ever conversed with himself, or discanted solely with his own humour, who can be ignorant of those numerous slights or subtleties, which by that great Tempter (whose long exercise hath made him no less subtle in contriving, than cruel in practising our ruin) are privately shadowed and shrouded, purposely to circumvent poor man, and leave him deluded. Diogenes, when he found a young man talking alone, demanded of him What he was doing? who answered, He was conversing with himself: Take heed (quoth he) thou c●nuersest not with thine enemy. To you, Gentlewomen, I direct my discourse, 
How to behave herself in Pri●a●y.  whose privacy may enable you, if well employed, for better things than the toys, tires, and trifles of this age. How many (the more our misery) bestow their private hours (which might be dedicated to Contemplation, or works of piety and devotion) upon light-feathered inventions, amorous expost●lations, or min●ing of some unbeseeming fashions? How few enter into account with their own hearts; or so consecrated their hours to God's honour, as they make Privacy their soul's harbour? The day they spend in visitations; how rare and tedious is one hour reserved for meditation? What a serious intercourse or sociable dialogue is between an amorous Mistress and her Looking-glass! The point or pendent of her feather wags out of a due posture; her Cheek wants her true tincture; her captious Glass presents to her quick eye one error or other, which drives her into a monstruous distemper. Pride leaves no time for prayer. This is her CLOSET for LADIES, where she fits and accommodates herself to Fashion, which is the period of her content, while purer objects are had in contempt. This is not the way to make Privacy your mind's melody. These employments should sooner afflict than affect you, because they will sooner distract than direct you. Your spirits will be revived most, when these are valued least. Let me therefore recommend to your choice, Patterns of more exquisite worth: such whose devotion may be your direction, whose direction your instruction.  
Devout mention is made of zealous Anna, who made recourse to the Temple, offering her incessant prayers, a vial of sweet odours, that she might conceive a son: of whom, to her succeeding memory, the Scripture recordeth, that after her tears so devoutly shed, her prayers so sincerely offered, her religious vows so faithfully performed, her countenance was no more altered; Piety begot in her divine love, faith in Gods promise made her believe, and zeal to God's house caused her to persevere: thus sighing she sought, seeking she obtained, and obtaining she retained a grateful memory of what she received. No less fervour shown Ester in preferring the suit of her distressed Israelites; what persuasive Oratory, what powerful Rhetoric, what inducing reason's she used, to have their unjust censure reversed, their insupportable wrongs redressed, their aggrievances relieved, the incensed King appeased, and them to favour restored? She wooed with tears in her eyes, faith in her heart, alms in her hand; God's cause was the progress of her course; she desired nothing more than how to effect it, which was seconded with a successive conclusion, because begun, continued, and ended with devotion. The like zeal expressed judith for her besieged B●thulites; the love of God had so inflamed her, as no fear of the enemy could amate her; faith armed her with resolution; constancy strengthened her against all opposition. Her armour was prayer, Bethulia's cure her care; holy desires her sole attendants; she enters her enemy's pavilion with a zealous confidence; implores the Divine assistance in her entrance; and discomfits a daring foe with cautelous silence. Her sighs and tears were as the first and second rain; they brought success to her thirsty soul, and a glorious Conquest to her native soil. No less are we to admire the wonderful devotion of that teare-swollen Magdelen, who with devout love sought her dear Spouse entombed, whose body with obsequious Odours she had embalmed before ever he was interred▪ She, when his Disciples were departed, left not the Sepulchre of her sweet Master; still she sat sorrowing and ●ighing, weeping long and much, rising from her seat of sorrow, her gra●e of grief; where he was, he is not; and where he is, she knows not: with pious tears, watchful eyes, weary ways, she re●isits again and again the desert caves of his relinquished Sepulchre, ●●ping at last to have the happiness to behold, whom with so fervent a desire ●hee sought. Now once and again had she entered his desolate Tomb: but little was all this to her that loved so much; The power or efficacy of every good work consists in Perseverance. But observe the comfortable effect of her effectual love! For as much as she loved more than the rest, and loving wept more than the rest, and weeping sought more than the rest, and seeking persevered, allowing herself no rest: therefore deserved she to find, behold, and speak unto him before the rest. And not only so, but to become the very first messenger of his glorious resurrection to his Disciples, according as her choice Spouse had commanded her, and by especial Commission recommended to her. Go, tell my Brethren that they go into Galilee, there they shall see me. Hence note the fruit of a devout heart; the incomparable prerogative granted to Divine love! Nazia●z●n in hi● Epitaph for his sister Gorgonia, writeth, that she was so given to prayer, that her knees seemed to cleave to the earth, and to grow to the very ground, by reason of incessancy or continuance in prayer. Gregory in his Dialogues writeth, that his Aunt Trasilla being dead, was found to have her elbows as hard as horn: which hardness she got by leaning to a Desk, at which she used to pray. Such as these deserve your imitation; for their Vertue●, like sweet Odours, have sent out a pleasant perfume. They prayed, and obtained what they prayed for; They lived and practised what they sought for; They died and enjoyed what they so long time sighed for. You are taught to Enter your Chambers and be still▪ Still, and yet stirring still. Still from the clamours and turbulent insults of the World; still from the mutinous motions and innovations of the flesh. But never still from warring, wrestling, bickring and embattailing with the Leader of those treacherous associates, tyrannous assazinats. O should you consider what troops of furious and implacable Enemies are ever lying in ambuscado for you; how many soule-tempting Sirens are warbling notes of ruin to delude you; what fears within you, what foes without you, what furies all about you; you would not suffer one grain of sand to drop through the Cruet, without a dropping eye; not one minute pass undedicated to some good employment, to prevent the fury of such desperate assailants. Make then your Chamber your private Theatre, wherein you may act some devout Scene to God's honour. Be still from the world, but stirring towards God. Meditation, let it be your companion. It is the perfume of the memory; the soul's rouzer from sin's lethargy; the sweetest solace in straits of adversity. Let it be your key to open the Morning, your 〈◊〉 to close the Evening. What an argument of indiscretion were it for one, amidst variety of choice and delicious viands, to discourse of vanity, and suffer himself to famish in the presence of such plenty? This is your case, if amidst so many soule-solacing dainties of spiritual comforts, you divert your eye, by fixing it on these Objects of earth: and repose not yourselves in those fragrant borders of Divine Contemplation; which, by how much they are more frequent, by so much they become more sweet and redolent. Surely, there is nothing that relisheth more sweetly, tasteth more daintily, withdraweth your minds from the world more speedily, strengtheneth you against the temptations of your enemy, excites or exerciseth you in every spiritual duty, as the soul-ravishing Contemplation of the Supreme Deity. All other Objects are vanity. They may play upon your fantasy, and so delude you; but being weakly grounded on pity, they can never suffice you. Task yourselves then privately, lest privacy become your enemy. As man's extremity is God's opportunity, so the Devil's opportunity is man's security. Let not a minute be mis-spended, lest security become your attendant. Be it in the exercise of your Needle, or any other manual employment: attemper that labour with some sweet meditation tending to God's honour. Choose rather with Penelope to wove and unweave, than to give Idleness the least leave: Wanton Wooers are time-wasters. They make you idolise yourselves, and consequently hazardize the state of your souls. Let not their Lipsalve so anoint you, as it make you forgetful of him that made you. Be you in your Chambers or private Closets; be you retired from the eyes of men; think how the eyes of God are on you. Do not say, the walls encompass me, darkness o're-shadowes me, the Curtain of night secures me: These be the words of an Adulteress: Therefore do nothing privately, which you would not do publicly. There is no retire from the eyes of God. I have heard of some, who for want of more amorous or attractive Objects abroad, have furnished their private Chambers with wanton pictures, Aretine tables, Sibariticke stories. These were no objects for Christian eyes: they convey too inordinate an heat from the eye to the heart. Eye no object which may estrange you from thought of your Maker. Make every day your Ephemerideses. Let your morning imitate your purposes for the day, the day second what your morning purposed, the Evening examine your morning's purpose, your days purchase. And so I descend to the next branch: how you are to behave yourselves in public, which should be by so much more punctual, for as much as the world is more Stoical.  
Women in sundry Countries, 
This branch might seem included in our former discourse of Company; but that reflected on persons, this on affairs.  when they go into any public concourse or press of people, use to wear veils, to imply that secret inscreened beauty which best becomes a Woman, Bashful modesty. Which habit our own Nation now in latter years hath observed: which, howsoever the intention of the wearer appear, deserves approvement: because it expresseth in itself Modest shamefastness, a Woman's chiefest Ornament. I second his opinion, who held it for diverse main respects, a custom very irregular and undecent, that Women should frequent places of public resort, as Stageplays, Wakes, solemn Feasts, and the like. It is Occasion that depraves us; Company that corrupts us. Hence it was, that some flourishing States, having eyed the inconveniences which arise from the usual resort of Women to Interludes and other public Solemnities, published an express inhibition against such free and frequent meetings. Had Hippodamia never wandered, she had proved an Hypemnestra, and had never wantoned. Had Dinah never roaved, she had proved a Diana, and had never been ravished. Yet fare be it from me, to be so regularly strict, or Laconically severe, as to exclude Wom●n from all public societies. Meetings they may have, and improve them, by a Civil and Moral use of them, to their benefit. They may chat and converse with a modest freedom, so they do not gossip it. For these Shee-Elpenors, and Feminine Epicures, who surfeit out their time in an unwomanly excess, we exclude them the pale of our Commonweal. Be they of what state soever, they are stains to their Sex for ever. Especially such, who carouse it in deep healths, rejoice at the colour of the wine, till it sparkle in their veins, inflame their bloods, and lay open a breach to the frailty of their Sex. For prevention whereof, we read that kinsmen kissed their kinswomen to know whether they drunk wine or no, and if they had, to be punished by death, or banished into some Island. Plutarch saith, that if the Matrons had any necessity to drink wine, either because they were sick or weak; the Senate was to give them licence, and not then in Rome neither, but out of the City.  
Macrobius saith, that there were two Senators in Rome chiding, and the one called the others wife an Adulteress, and the other his wife a Drunkard; and it was judged, that to be a drunkard was more infamy. Truth is, they might join hands as mates of one society, for I have seldom seen any one subject to Ebriety, preserve long untainted the honour of their chastity.  
Now for public Employments, I know all are not borne to be Deborahs', to bear virile spirits in feminine bodies. Yet, in choosing the better part, you may fit and accommodate your persons to public affairs, well sorting and suiting with your rank and quality. Claudia and Priscilla were nobly descended, yet they publicly resorted, where they might be religiously instructed; and no less publicly instructed others in those principles wherein they were informed. It is said of the Vestal Virgins, that they first learned what to do; secondly, they did what they had learned; thirdly, they instructed others to do that which they had both done and learned. For this, the rich Saban Queen left her own Region to hear the Wisdom of King Solomon. Surely, howsoever some, no less properly than pregnantly, have emblematized Woman by a Snail: because she still carries her house about her, as is the property of a good Housekeeper; yet in my judgement (wherein I ingenuously submit to others censure) a modest and well Behaved Woman may by her frequent or resort to public places, confer no less benefit to such as observe her behaviour, than occasion of profit to her private family, where she is Overseer. I have seen some in these places of public repair, express such a well-seeming State without Apish formality, as every action deserved imitation of such as were in their Company. Their Conceits were sweetly tempered without lightness; their jests savoury, yet without saltness; their discourse free without niceness; their answers mild without tartness; their smile pleasing, mixed with bashfulness; their pace graceful without too much activeness; their whole posture delightful with a seemly carelessness. These are such mirrors of modesty, patterns of piety, as they would not for a world transgress the bounds of Civility. These are Matrons in their houses, Models in public places. Words spoken in season, are like apples of gold with pictures of silver: So oportunat●ly are their words delivered, so seasonably uttered, with such unaffected eloquence expressed, wheresoever this sweet and well-tempered discretion is seated. Whereas others there be, whose indiscretion makes discovery of an Ocean of words, out a drop of reason. They speak much, but express little; their conceits are ●uer ballased with harshness; their jests ●oisted in with too much dulness; their discourse trimmed up with too much nea●nesse; their answers leavened with too much sourness; their looks promising too much lightness, or vnlo●iable perverseness; their pace either too q●icke or too slow in dispatch of business; their whole posture an indisposed frame of irregular absurdities. But to draw in our sails, touching the prosecution of this branch; our reproof shall reflect upon two sorts especially, whose devious course drawn by an indirect line, may seem to deserve reprehension worthily. The first are such, who give too easy raines to liberty; making Pleasure their Vocation: as if they were created for no other end, than to dedicate the first fruits of the day to their Glass; the residue to the Stage or Exchange. These, no sooner have they laid their Artificial Complexion on their adulterate faces, than they grow sick for their Coach. They must visit such a Lady, or what, perchance, is worse, such a Lord. A minute now in their Chambers seems a month. Shall we display one of these in her colours? The Play-bills must be brought her by her Pensioner: her eye views and reviewes, and out of her feminine judgement culls out one from among them which she will see, purposely to be seen. Much she observes not in it, only she desires to be observed at it. Her Behaviour in a Box, would make any one think she were a Bee in a box; she makes such a buzzing and rustling. This is her daily task, till death enter the Stage and play his part; whom she entertains with such unpreparedness, as her extreme act presents objects of infinite unhappiness: As it sometimes fared with a Gentlewoman of our own Nation, who so daily bestowed the expense of her best hours upon the Stage, as being surprised by sickness, even unto death, she became so deaf to such as admonished her of her end, as she clozed her dying scene with a vehement calling on Hieronim●. So inapprehensive was she of death at her end, because she never meditated of death before her end. Now for the second sort, they are mere Antipodes to the former; These are only for profit, as the other were for pleasure. These become so wedded to the world, as they afflict their spirits, macerate their bodies, estrange themselves from offices of Neighbourhood, to improve their revenues, by discovering their too much providence to the world. And these are commonly such, as are matched to Scholars, whose contemplation hath taken them from the world, and recommended the mannagement of their estate to their wife. Now to both these sorts let me address my instruction: As I could not possibly approve of the former, because they made pleasure their business: so I cannot commend these, because they make not their business a pleasure. Let these take heed, that they incur not that miserable insensibility, which I have heard sometimes befell to a Worldling of their sex: Who approaching near her haven, and entering now her last Conflict with Nature, was, by such as stood about her, earnestly moved to recommend herself to God, tender the welfare of her soul, and to make her salvation sure; thus briefly, but fearfully answered, and forthwith departed: I have made it as sure as Law will make it. 
D● Done Timoris.  Or as we read in a book entitled The Gift of fear, how a Religious Divine coming to a certain Vsuresse, to advice her of the state of her soul, and instruct her in the way to salvation, at such time as she lay languishing in her bed of affliction; told her, how there were three things by her to be necessarily performed, if ever she hoped to be saved: First, she was to be contrite in heart; secondly, she was to confess her sins; thirdly, she was to make restitution according to her means. Whereto she thus replied; Two of those first I will do willingly: but to do the last, I shall hold it a difficulty; for should I make restitution, what would remains to raise my children their portion? To which the Divine answered; Without these three you cannot be saved. Yea but, quoth she, Do our Learned men and Scriptures say so? Ye● surely, said the Divine. And I will try (quoth she) whether they say true or no, for I will restore nothing. And so resolving, fearfully died, fearing poverty temporal, more than eternal, which she was of necessity to suffer, (without God's infinite interceding mercy) for preferring the care of her posterity, before the honour of her Maker.  
To be short, the former sort deserves reproof, for making pleasure their vocation; the latter for barring business all recreation. A discreet temper will moderate both these; the first, by holding pleasure a pastime, and no business; the last, by applying a cure to an incessant care, and immixing some pleasure with business, to attemper it, lest it incline to heaviness. Both which, equally concurring, are ever conferring to the labouring mind, inward quietness.  
COmplexion enclosed in a box, gives no tincture to the Cheek, nor moral precepts unapplyed, beauty to the mind. Thus fare have we proceeded in directions of Behaviour; insisting on such remarkable observances, as might better enable you in each particular. We are now to lay before you, upon serious discussion of the premizes, 
That Behaviour most approved, which is clearest from affectation freed.  how that Behaviour is to be most approved, which is clearest from affectation freed.  
Apes are catcht in Deserts by imitation. Would not you be caught by indiscretion? Imitate nothing servilely, it detracts from your gentility. I have noted some of our Chambermaids take upon them such an unbeseeming state, when they came to visit their poor friends in the Country, as they punctually retained both gate and garb of their mincing Mistresses in the City. To their Parish-Church they repair to be seen and shown; where if any of these civilised jugs chance to be saluted by the way, having quite forgot both broom and mop, with a scornful eye they will not stick to return this majestic answer: We thank you my good people. It is discretion that appropriates to every peculiar degree their proper distinction. Many things will beseem the Mistress, which agree not with the quality of the Maid. But in no degree will that Behaviour seem comely, which affectaion hath introduced, be it in Court, City, or Country. You shall see many, purposely to cover some natural blemish or deformity, practise that which makes them appear fare more unseemly. Here one indents with her lips to semper, that she may hide the want or greatness of her teeth. Another contracts with her Tailor, lest Nemesis should be seen sitting on her shoulder. A third wears her Gown with a careless looseness, to cover or colour her body's crookedness. This, with Fabulla, buys an artful Periwig to supply her art-fallen hair. That enazures her seered veins, embolsters her decayed breasts, to purchase a sweetheart. What an affected state this generally-infected state assumes, purposely to gain a popular esteem? Survey our streets, gaze on our windows; you shall ●ee gazers to entertain your eyes with variety of fantastic Behaviours. But these are none of Virtue's followers. Would you be praiseworthy? Virtue to herself is her chiefest praise, her choicest prize. There is nothing comparably precious to a Continent soul. Affectation she will not admit, for her habit; both her Habit and Behaviour are proper and not enforced; native and not apishly introduced. She cannot woo a wanton Lover with a dissembled blush, nor promise more with an outward presence, than she resolves to admit with a spotless Conscience. Outward semblances, if light, she holds apparent blemishes to her life. Her life, as it is a line to herself, so she would have it a light to others. Lacides, Prince of Argos, was accounted lascivious only for his sleek looks, and mincing gate. So Pompey, because he used to scratch his head with one finger, albeit very Continent and modest. Believe it, though your Person be the Book, your Behaviour is the Index. Which will require a large Comment, if it express itself in aught probably incontinent. Now, for as much as nothing better seems you, more commendably adorns you, or more absolutely accommodates you, than what is native and unaffected, so it be by Education seasoned: be your own Women; dis-value all apish formality; resort not to the Temple to take a pattern of some new fashion: modest discretion blusheth at such servile imitation. What you see in another, may become them, which would not become another. The Ass in the fable seeing the dog fawn and leap upon his Master, thought it would beseem him, but sorting not with his nature, it got him a beating for his labour.  
Now to distinguish betwixt an enforced and unaffected Behaviour, it is most easy; the very first blush will discover the one by the other. You shall observe these who are tied to affectation in this kind, set their look, gate, and whatsoever else may con●ferre a fantastic grace on their usurped Behaviour, so punctually, as if they had entered a solemn Contract with eye, face, hand, foot and all, to hold constantly their dimension, to beget in the beholder a more settled admiration. Whereas contrariwise, these whose free, genuine, and generous demeanours express themselves less strictly, but fare more comely; scorn to tie their affections to these servile restraints. They hold it fare more suitable with an Italian Pantomime, who professeth hope of profit upon the Stage, to confine them to these regularities, than discreet Women, whose honour is their honest Behaviour: and whose praise it is, to be exemplary to others in goodness, and not others Apes in imitating their fantastic fashions. To conclude then this Observation; as you are generous by birth, dote not on that which is most ridiculous on this Stage of earth. Approve yourselves chaste Virgins, continent Wi●es, discreet Matrons, honourable Widows, in your virtuous and modest demeanour. Preserve that eternally, which gives accomplishment to Gentility. Your Educations (as may be presupposed) have so beautified you, as the garb you retain is most proper unto you. The Hyaene is a dangerous beast: yet her subtlety and cruelty take life from affectation and imitation. Desire you to be so Behaved, as others may admire you ● In your choice of Behaviour, enure yourselves to what is neatest, not what is newest. Invention in subjects of this kind, doth more harm than good. So behave yourselves, that too much curiosity may not tax you of pride, nor too much majesty of State: Modesty mixed with humility will temper both these, and make that Behaviour which appears in you, so well become you, as if it were borne with you, and not affectively derived from others to you.   

THE ENGLISH Gentlewom●n.  
Argument.  
Compliment defined; how it may be corrupted; how refined; wherein it may be admitted as mainly consequent; wherein omitted as merely impartial; what Compliment gives best accomplishment.  
COMPLIMENT. 
Compliment   
COMPLIMENT hath been anciently defined, 
Obseruat. 3.  and so successively retained; 
Compliment defined.  a no less rea●● than formal accomplishment. Such as were more nob●y and freely educated, and had improved their breeding by foreign Observations (so sweetly tempered was the equal union and communion of their affections) instructed others in what they had seen and observed either at home or abroad, worthy imitation or approvement. Nothing was admitted in those times publicly, but what was by the graver Censors first discussed privately. jealous were the Pagans of foreign fashions: for, with such constancy they retained their own; as they seldom or never itched after others. The Tyrian and Sidonian were so suspected of pride, through their effeminacy in attire, and other light fashions which they used, as they were held dangerous to commerce with. So purely did those poor beamelings of Nature reflect on her people; that formality was held palpable hypocrisy, fair semblances and cool performances mere golden shadows to delude others, but gull themselves most. Prince's Courts were Princely Seminaries. Delicacy was there no Tutoress, nor effeminacy Governess. If Alcibiades, albeit in Athens the beautifullest, for native endowments the pregnant'st, and for d●scent one of the noblest, introduce aught irregularly, or express any Compliment which relisheth not of Civility; the author must suffer the censure of the City. It was very usual in former times, when any Embassy was addressed from one state unto another, for the Senate or Council, from whence any such Legate was sent, to school them in sundry particulars before they took their journey or received their Commission: but in no caution were they more strict, than in express command that they should use no other garb, Compliment, nor salute upon their approach in foreign Courts, than what they had seen used and observed at home. Thus their own native fashion, became a note of distinction to every Nation.  
Neither am I ignorant, how even in one and the selfsame Province, there may be generally introduced a different or distinct garb: which proceedeth either from the Commerce and Confluence of people there resorting, and consequently improving their Behaviour and Elocution by their mutual conference; or from the Prince's Court, where all State and Majesty hath residence; or from the temperature of the Air, to which some have attributed an especial preeminence. Whereas, in desert and remote places, on which the beams of Civil society seldom reflect, we shall find nothing but barbarism and unsociable wildness. Education is the improver of the one, and producer of the other. We shall ever see Compliment shine most in places eminent. There are Objects fit for such Subjects: Such as expect it, and bestow their whole day's practice in exercise of it: These aspire to the nature or definition of no art more eagerly, than Compliment, which they hold the absolute ornament of Gentility. Howsoever, mainly repugnant be their Tenets touching the subsistence of Compliment.  
Some have held, it consisted in congees, cringes, and salutes; of which error, I would this age wherein we live, did not too much labour: others, merely in a painted and superficial discourse; wherein they so miserably tied themselves to words, as they tired the impatient hearers with foolish repetitions, frivolous extravagancies; being, in a word, so affianced to the shadow, as they forgot the substance. The last, which were only real and complete Courtiers, held a seemly graceful presence, beautified with a native comeliness, the deseruingst Compliment that could attend us. Certainly, if we should exactly weigh the derivation of the word, we could not imagine so meanly of it, as to consist merely of words, or antic works. It was first intended to distinguish betwixt persons of civil and savage carriage: yea, to appropriate a title of preeminence to such, who exceeded others in grounds or pecepts of Morality; whose lives appeared as Lamps to enlighten others, and consequently perpetuate the memory of themselves. Many noble and eminent Ladies are recorded both in divine and humane writ to have excelled in this Compliment of honour. These knew the definition of it, and moulded their conversation to it: They knew what belonged to a posture of state; they could court it without apish curiosity; embrace love with a reserved modesty; express themselves complete without singularity. Foreign fashions they distasted; painted Rhetoric they disrelished; real Compliment was all they affected. Love they could without dissembling; discourse without affecting; show curtsy without congying; still retaining what was best beseeming. In the Court they resided to better it; not a strayed look could promise a loo●e Lover least hope of a purchase; nor Coyness dishearten a faithful servant from his affectionate purpose. They knew not what it was to protest in jest; to walk in the clouds; to domineer over their captives, or entertain many Suitors. They freed Compliment of dissimulation, made virtue their Loadstone to affection; their actions were dedicated to good ends: by which means they made God and goodmen their friends. Nor do I fear it, but that our flourishing Albion hath many such noble and complete Ladies; who so highly esteem the true and native definition of Compliment, as they prefer the substance before the shadow. Honour is their dearest tender, goodness their line, by which they daily draw nearer to perfection, their proper Centre. Thus fare for the Definition, wherein we have the rather enlarged our discourse, that the Subject whereof we treat, may be discovered in her own nature; and such as owe attendance to her, become better proficients in their instructions derived from her. Neither can we observe what may really deserve your imitation, but by discerning the excellence of that whereof we treat by a true and proper definition▪  
THere is nothing on earth so pure, 
How Compliment may be corrupted.  but abuse may corrupt it; nothing so good, but custom may deprave it. This may appear in this one Subject, which we have now in discourse. Former times were not so ●aded to fashions, as to esteem nothing formal, but what was fantastical. It was not then held the life of Compliment, to have the art to set a face, court a glass, make a cringe or a duck. Legs were held for useful supporters, but no Complemental postures. New-minted words made not their tongues more complete; nor an Outlandish Salute their Persons more admired. Virgin-modesty made resolution her Steletto to guard her honour. Plumes and Feathers were held light dress for stayed minds; suspicious trim for stolen Maids. Actors might wear them in their presentments upon the Stage, but modest Matrons were never allowed to wear them in the state. Women were admitted to have Painters, but not to be their own painters: Campaspe was pictured out in her colours by Apelles: Crotons five daughters lively depictured by Ze●xes; yet these, without any help of art, still retained their own native features. It was the Compliment of that age to deliver their mind freely without mincing, converse friendly without glozing; walk the street demurely without gazing. Wherein (with submission ever to graue● judgements) this latter age, in mine opinion, deserves just reproof. Education is a second Nature, and this hath given that freedom to women, as they may admit any opportunity to entertain time with their amorous servants; redart wanton tales with light blushes; pass a whole afternoon in a Bay-window, in Congees, Curtsies, and other useless Compliments. Flashes of wit are made beguilers of time; and these mixed now and then with such lascivious passages, as modesty might justly hold itself abused to be so encountered. Alas! Who knows not what secret trains are laid for credulous women, under these pretenced parleys? Do you observe how their tongues are tipped with your praises; how they honour your shadows; admire the earth you tread on; adore the Air you breath on; and with their airy applauses so gild you, as in the end they palpably gull you; leaving you no less miserably deluded, than themselves seized of what their sensual quest pursued? Beware of that Compliment which gives way to rob you of your choicest Ornament. Egnatius, in Catulli●, is brought out, showing the whiteness of his teeth: a poor subject to raise an Encomiasticke poem. These are Themes for an amorous Muse: White teeth, rolling eyes, a beautiful complexion (all exterior and inferior goods) being that which Euryala his Nurse praised, when she washed the feet of Ulysses, namely, gentle speech, and tender flesh. No less persuasive by the eleganc● of the one, than invasive by delicacy of the other. But all these outward embellishments give but small accomplishment to the inward beauty. Wher● good's a better attribute than fair. No● be not these dainty subjects for a Complete youth to discant on? What Crotchets and extemporal Conceits are hatched out of an addle brain? The very shadow of Julia's hair must not want the complea●est honour, that either art can device, or cest erect. Not a Cooplet but must be poetically Complete; which out of an amorous frenzy must with mounting Hyperboles be thus contemned. 
Skin more pure than Ida's snow,  
Whiter fare than Moorish milk,  
Sweeter than Ambrosia too,  
Softer than the Paphian silk,  
Indian plumes or thistle-downe,  
Or May-blossoms newly blown,  
Is my Mistress Rosie-pale,  
Adding beauty to her veil.   
An excellent piece of Complemental stuff to catch a self-conceited one. Many you have of your sex, who are too attentive auditors in the report of their own praises. Nothing can be attributed to them, which they hold not properly due unto them. Which conceit, many times, so transports them, as, Narcissus-like, they are taken with their own shadows; doting on nothing more than these Encomiasticke bladders of their desertless praises. Let me advice you, whose discretion should be fare from giving light ear to such airy Tritons, to dis-rellish the oily Compliment of these amorous Sycophants. Much more useful and beneficial it will be for you to retain that modesty which appeared in Alphonsus' Prince of Aragon's answer to a plausive Orator; who having repeated a long panegyrical Oration in his praise, replied; If that thou hast said, consent with truth, I thank God for it; if not, I pray God grant me grace that I may do it. You shall encounter with some of these Complete Amourists, who will make a set speech to your ●loue, and sweeten every period with the perfume of it. Others will hold it an extraordinary grace to become Porters of your Misset, or holder's of your Fan, while you pin on your Mask. Service, Observance, Devotion be the General heads of their Compliment. Other Doctrine they have none, either to instruct morally, or inform politically. Believe it, Gentlewomen, they are ill-spent hours, that are bestowed in conference with these Braine-wormes. Their frivolous discourse will exact from you some answer: which if you shape justly to their dialect, there will be more vain wind spent, than you can redeem with many tears. Let no conceit transport you above yourselves; hold it for no Compliment worthy your breeding, to trifle time in love-toys. They detract both from discretion and modesty, and ofttimes endanger the ruin of the latter fearfully. This kind of Compliment with great ones, were but mere Canting among Beggars. He or she are the Completest, who in arguments of discourse and action are discreetest. Full vessels give the least sound. Such as hold Compliment the sole subject of a glib tongue, active cringe, or artful smile; are those only Mimics, or Buffouns of our age, whose Behaviours deserve fare more derision than applause. Thus you have heard how Compliment may be corrupted; we now purpose, with as much propriety and brevity as we may, to show you how it may be refined. To the end, that what is in its own nature so commendable, may be entertained with freedom of choice, and retained without purpose to change.  
THe Unicorn's horn being dipped in water, 
How Compliment may be ●efined.  clears and purifies it. It is the honour of the Physician to restore nature, after it be decayed. It is the sole work of that supreme Archytect to bring light out of darkness, that what was dark might be enlightened; life out of death, that what was dead might be enlivened; way out of error, that the erring might be directed; knowledge out of ignorance, that the ignorant might be instructed; a salve out of sin, that sins sore might be cured; comfort out of affliction, that the afflicted might be comforted; hope out of despair, that the desperate might be succoured; a raising from falling, that their fall might be recovered; strength out of weakness, that his great work might be glorified. Gold thrice tried, becomes the purer and more refined: And Compliment the most, when it is best accommodated. True it is, that Society is either a Plague or a Perfume. It infects, where Consorts are ill-affected; but works excellent effects, where virtuous Consorts are assembled. 
It is the sweetest note that one can sing,  
When Grace in Virtue's key, turns Nature's string.   
Where two meek men meet together, their conference (saith mellifluous Bernard) is sweet and delectable: where one man is meek, it is profitable: where neither, it proves pernicious and uncomfortable. It is Society that gives us, or takes from us our Security. Let me apply this unto you, Gentlewomen, whose virtuous dispositions, (so sweetly hath nature graced you) promise nothing less than fervorous desires of being good. Would you have that refined in you, which others corrupt, by inverting the means? Or express that in her native Colours, which will beautify you more than any artificial or adulterate colours, whose painted Varnish is no sooner made than melted? Make choice of such for your Consorts, whose choice may admit no change. Let no Company be affected by you, which may hazard infecting of you. The World is grown a very Pest-house: timely prevention must be used, before the infection have entered. You have no such sovereign receipts to repel, as you have to prevent. The infection of vice leaves a deeper spot or speckle on the mind, than any disease doth on the body. The Blackmoore may sooner change his skin, the Leopard his spots, than a soul deep died in the grain of infection, can put off her habituate corruption. Be it then your principal care to make choice of such bashful Maids, modest Matrons, or reverend Widows, as hold it their best Compliment to retain the opinion of being Continent. Infamy hath wings as swift as fame. Shun the occasion, lest you undergo the brand. Posthuma, because given to laughter, and something forward to talk with men, was suspected of her honesty; where being openly accused, she was acquitted by Spurius Minutius, with this caveat, to use words suitable to her life. Civility, trust me, is the best and most refined Compliment that may be. Courting in public places, and upon first sight, it affects not; for it partakes more of impudent than Complete. Be it of the City that argument of discourse be ministered, it can talk freely of it without mincing; or of the Court, it can address itself to that garb in apt words without minting; or of the Country, in an homespun phrase it can express whatsoever in the Country deserves most praise. And all this in such a proper and familiar manner, as such who are tied to Compliment, may aspire to it, but never attain it. He that hath once tasted of the fountain Clitorius, will never afterward drink any wine. Surely, howsoever this civil and familiar form of dialect may seem but as pure running water in comparison of Compliment, which, like Nectar, streams out in Conduits of delight to the humorous hearer: yet our discreet Complementer prefers the pure fountain before the troubled river. It is true, that many fashions, which even these later times have introduced, deserve free admittance; yea, there is something yet in our Oa●e, that may be refined. Yet in the acceptance of these, you are not to entertain whatsoever these finer times have brought forth. Where variety is affected, and the age to inconstancy subjected, so as nothing but what is rare and new becomes esteemed: Either must our inventions be present and pregnant, our surveys of foreign places serious and sollicitant, or we shall fall into decay of fashion, or make old ones new, and so by antiquity gull our Nation. Truth is, though our tongues, hands, bodies, and legs be the same, our Elocution, action, gesture, and posture are not the same. Should the soul of Troilus, according to that erroneous transmigration of Pythagoras, pass into the body of one of o●r English Courtiers; or Hortensius, (who was an Orator acti●e enough) into one of our English Lawyers; or Antigone (who was Complemental enough) into one of our English Courtesans; they would find strange Cottages to dwell in. What is now held Complete; a few years will bury in disgrace. Nothing then so refined, if on earth seated, which time will not raze, or more curious conceits disesteem, or that universal reduction to nothing dissolve. That Compliment may seem pleasing; such a fashion generally affecting; such a dressing most Complete: yet are all these within short space covered with contempt. What you observe then to be most civil in others, affect it; such an habit needs not to be refined, which cannot be bettered. Fashion is a kind of frenzy; it admires that now, which it will laugh at hereafter, when brought to better temper. Civility is never out of fashion; it ever retains such a seemly garb, as it confers a grace on the wearer, and enforceth admiration in the beholder. Age cannot deface it; Contempt disgrace it; nor gravity of judgement (which is ever held a serious Censor) disapprove it.  
Be thus minded, and this Compliment in you will be purely refined. You have singular patterns to imitate, represent them in your lives, imitate them in your loves. The Corruption of the age, let it seize on ignoble spirits; whose education, as it never equalled yours, so let them strike short of those nobler endowments of yours: labour daily to become improved, honour her that will make you honoured: let virtue be your crown, who holds vanity a crime: So may you show holiness in your life, enjoy happiness at your death, and leave examples of goodness unto others both in life and death.  
Courts & eminent places are held fittest Schools for Compliment. 
Wherein Compliment may be admitted, as mainly consequent.  There the Cinnamon tree comes to best growth; there her bark gives sweetest scent. Choice and select fashions are there in only request; which ofttimes like those Ephemerae, expire, after one days continuance: whatsoever is vulgar, is thence exploded; whatsoever novel, generally applauded. Here be weekly Lectures of new Compliments; which receive such acceptation, and leave behind them that impression, as what garb soever they see used in Court publicly, is put in present practice privately; lest discontinuance should blemish so deserving a quality. The Court's gloss may be compared to glass, bright, but brittle; where Courtiers (saith one) are like Counters, 
Plutarch.  which sometime in account go for a thousand pound, and presently before the Count be cast, but for a single penny. This too eager affection after Compliment, becomes the consumption of many large hereditaments. Whereto it may be probably objected, that even dis●●●tion injoines every one to accommodate himself to the fashion or condition of that place wherein he life's. To which Objection I easily condescend; for should a rustic or boorish Behaviour accompany one who betakes himself to the Court, he might be sure to find a Controller in every corner to reprove him; or some complete gallant or other, pitifully to gear and deride him. But to dote so on fashion, as to admire nothing more than a fantastic dressing, or some antic Compliment, which the corruption of an effeminate State hath brought in, derogates more from discretion, than the strict observance of any fashion adds to her repute. This place should be the Beacon of the State; whose mounting Prospect surveys these inferior coasts which pay homage and fealty unto her. The least obliquity there, is exemplary elsewhere. Piercingst judgements, as well as pregnantst wits should be there resident. Not a wand'ring or indisposed hair, but gives occasion of observance to such as are near. How requisite then is it for you, whose Nobler descents promise, yea, exact more of you, than inferiors, to express yourselves best in these best discerning and deserving places? You are women; modesty makes you completest: you are Noble women, desert accompanying your descent will make you noblest. You may, and conveniency requires it, retain a Courtly garb, reserve a well seeming State, and show yourselves lively Emblems of that place, wherein you live: You may entertain discourse, to allay the irksomeness of a tedious hour; bestow yourselves in other pleasing recreations, which may no less refresh the mind, than they confer vigour and vivacity to the body. You may be eminent stars, and express your glory in the resplendent beams of your virtues; so you suffer no black cloud of infamy to darken your precious names. She was a Princely Christian Courtier, who never approached the Court, but she meditated of the Court of heaven; never consorted with her Courtiers, but she contemplated those Citizens of heaven; nor ever entered the Presence-Chamber, but she thought of the presence of her Maker, the King of heaven. Such Meditations are receipts to cure all inordinate motions. Your Lives should be the lines to measure others actions. Virtue is gracious in every subject, but most in that, which the Prince or Princess hath made gracious. Anciently, the World was divided into three parts, whereof Europa was held the soul; properly, every Politic State may be divided into three Cantons, whereof the Court is the Sun. You are Objects to many Eyes; be your actions platforms to many lives. I can by no means approve that wooing and winning Compliment (though most Courts too generally affect it) which makes her sole Object, purchase of Servants or Suitors. This garb tastes more of Courtesan than Courtier: it begets Corrivals, whose fatal Duello's end usually in blood. Our own State hath sometimes felt the misery of these tragic events; by suffering the loss of many generous and free-bred Sparkes; who, had not their Torches been extinguished in their blood, might to this day have survived, to their Country's joy and their own fame. So great is the danger that lies hid in affable Compliments, promising aspects, affectionate glances, as they leave those who presumed of th●ir own strength, holding themselves invulnerable, many times labouring of wounds incurable. Be you no such Basilisks; never promise a calm in your face, where you threaten a storm in your heart. Appear what you are, lest Censure tax you of inconstancy, by saying, you are not what you were. An open countenance and restrained bosom sort not-well together. Suit your discourse to your action; both to a modest dispose of your affection. Throw abroad no lose Lures, wand'ring eyes, strayed looks; these delude the Spectators much, but the Actors most. A just revenge! by striving to take in others, they are taken by others. How dangerous do we hold it to be, in a time of infection, to take up any thing, be it never so precious, which we find lost in the street? One of your lose looks, be it darted with never so Complemental a state, is fare more infectious, and mortally dangerous. There is nothing that sounds more cheerfully to the ear, or leaves a sweeter accent; nothing that conveys itself more speedily to the heart, or affords fuller content for the time, than conceit of love. It will immaze a perplexed wretch in a thousand extremes; whose amazed thoughts stand so deeply engaged to the Object of his affection; as he will sustain any labour, in hope of a trifling favour. Such sovereignty beauty retains, which, if discretion temper not, begets such an height of conceit in the party beloved; as it were hard to say, whether the Agent or Patient suffer more. To you let me return, who stand fixed in so high an Orb; as a graceful Majesty well becomes you, so let modesty grace that Majesty; that demeaning yourselves like Complete and gracious Courtiers on earth, you may become triumphant and glorious Courtiers in heaven.  
THis garb, 
Wherein Compliment may be omitted, as merely impertinent.  as it suits not with all Persons, so sorts it not to all Places. For a Mechanic to affect Compliment, would as ill seem him, as for a rough-hewen Satire to play the Orator. It is an excellent point of discretion, to fit ones self to the quality or condition of that place where he resides. That Urbanity which becomes a Citizen, would relish of too much curiosity in a Country man. That Compliment which gives proper grace to a Courtier, would be get derision or contempt, being personated by a Merchant or his Factor. In affairs of State, is required a graceful or Complete posture; which many times procures more reverence in the person interessed, than if that state were omitted. Whereas, in ordinary affairs of traffic, it were indiscretion to represent any such state, or to use any expression, either by way of discourse or action, that were not familiar. That person, who prefers Compliment before profit; and will rather speak not to be understood, than lose one polite-stollen phrase, which he hath purchased by care only, and understands not, may account himself one among his bankrupt brethren, before he break. It is pitiful to hear what a remnant of sustian, for want of better Compliment, a Complete-Country-Gossip (for so she holds herself) will utter in one hour amongst her Pewfellows. How she will play the Schoolmistress in precepts of Discipline and moral Behaviour! Nothing so graceful in another, which she will not freely reprove; nothing so hateful in herself, which she will not confidently approve. Teach she will, before she be taught; and correct Form itself, to bring Form out of love with itself. To which malady, none is more naturally subject, than some Ladies cashiered Gentlewoman, or one who hath played Schoolmistress in the City, and for want of competent pay, removes her Camp into the Country; where she brings enough of vanity into every family throughout the Parish. She will not stick to instruct her young Pupils in strange points of formality, enjoining them not to ask their Parent's blessing without a Compliment. These, as they were never Mistresses of families, so they are generally ignorant in employments of that kind. Those three principal works or faculties of the Understanding, which might enable them to Discourse, Distinguish, and to Choose, are so estranged from them, as their Discourse consists solely in arguments of vanity, their Distinction in mere shadows of formality, their Choice in subjects and Consorts of effeminacy. Eight things, saith Hypocrates, make one's flesh moist and fat; the first, to be merry and live at hearts ease; the second, to sleep much; the third, to lie in a soft bed; the fourth, to far well; the fifth, to be well apparelled and appointed; the sixth, to ride always on horseback; the seventh, to have our will; and the eighth, to be employed in Plays & pastimes, & in such time-beguiling recreations, as yield contentment and pleasure. These are the only receipts in request with those Shee-Censors we now discourse of; and of whom it may be said, as was sometimes spoken of one Margites, that he never ploughed, nor digged, nor did any thing all his life long that might tend unto goodness; and by necessary consequence wholly unprofitable to the world. Who, howsoever they are less than Women at their work, yet at their meat (so unconfined is their appetite) they are more than men, and in their habit (so fantastic is their conceit) neither women nor men. So as, were Diogenes to encounter one of these, he might well expostulate the cause with her, as he did upon like occasion with a youth too curiously and effeminately dressed: If thou goest to men, all this is but in vain, if unto women, it is wi●k●d. But these we hold altogether unworthy of your more generous society; whose excellent breeding hath sufficiently accommodated you for City, Court, and Country; and so fully informed you how to demean yourselves in all affairs; as I make little doubt, but you know, wherein it may be admitted, as mainly consequent; and wherein omitted as merely impertinent. I mean therefore to descend briefly to the last branch of this Observation; declaring, what Ornament gives Compliment best beauty or accomplishment.  
IT is true, what the son of Sirach sometimes said; When a man hath d●ne his best, 
Ecc●●. 18. 6.  he must begin again, and when he thinketh to come to an end, he must go again to his labour. There is nothing so exact, which may not admit of something to make it more perfect. We are to go by stairs and steps to the height of any story. Virtue's are the Stairs, Perfection the Spire. But I must tell you, 
What Compliment gives best accomplishment.  Gentlewomen, the way for you to ascend, is first to descend: Complete you cannot be, unless you know how replete you are of misery. Humility is the stair that conducts you to this spire of glory. Your beauty may proclaim you fair; your discourse express a pregnancy of conceit; your behaviour confirm you outwardly complete. Yet there is something more than all this required, to make you absolutely accomplished. All these outward becommings, be they never so graceful, are but reflections in a 〈◊〉: quite vanished, so soon as the glass is rem●●ed. Critol●●● balance was of precious temper, and well-deserving estimation with Heirs of Honour; who poised the goods of body and fortune in 〈◊〉 ●●ale, and goods of the mind in the other: where ●he goods of the mind so fare weighed down the other, as the heaven doth the earth and Seas. To ●●ad a dance gra●efully; to marry your voice to your instrument musically; to express yourselves in pro●e and verse morally; are commendable qualities, and enforcing motives of affection. Yet I must tell you, for the first, though it appear by your feet to be but a mere dimension, in the opinion of the Learned it is the Devil's procession: Where the Dance is the Circle, whose centre is the Devil. Which may be restrained by a more easy or moderate glass to such wanton and immodest Revels, as have anciently been used in the Celebration of their profane feasts by Pagans, and are to this day by Pagan-christians; who, to gain applause from the Spectator, care not what shameless parts they play in the presence of their Maker. But what are these worth, being compared with these inward Ornaments or beauties of your mind; which only distinguish you from other creatures, and make you soveraignesses over the rest of God's creatures? You have that within you, which will best accomplish you. Let not that be corrupted, by which your crooked ways may be best corrected. Hold it no such necessary point of Compliment, to show a kind of majesty in a Dance; and to prefer it before the Compliment of a Religious task. Those sensual Courtesans, who are so delighted in songs, pipes, and earthly melody, shall in hell roar terribly and howl miserably: crying, as it is in the Apocalypses; Woe, Woe, Woe. Woe shall every one cry severally, 
Appoc. 8.  for the reward they have received in hell eternally, saying and sighing, Woe is me that ●uer I was borne: for fare better had it been for her, that she had never been borne. And again; Cursed be the womb that bore me a sinner. After this, shall she cry out in her second Woe against herself and all the members of her own body. Woe be unto you my accursed feet, what evil have you brought upon me miserable wretch, who by your perverse paths and wicked ways have shut heaven's gate of me? ●o unto you my hands, why have you deprived me by your sinful touch, and sensual embrace of the Crown of glory; by your means am I brought to hell fire, where I shall be tormented eternally? Woe unto thee, thou cursed tongue, what mischief hast thou brought upon me, by uttering words so scurrilous and filthy, and singing uncivil songs so frequently? O ye cursed Eyes, who by your unlawful objects of concupiscence, have deprived me of God's presence, and never shed one tear for your sins in token of repentance! Now gins your intolerable weeping (ye tear-swollen eyes never dried) before all the devils and the damned. Woe unto thee my heart, what hast thou put upon me, who by thy lustful thoughts and unlawful joys, hast deprived me of eternal joys? The third Woe, that she shall cry out, is this, saying: Woe unto the bitterness of my torments, for they are comfortless: woe unto the multitude of them, for they are numberless: woe unto the eternity of them, for they are endless. Would our wanton Courtesans, who sport it in their beds of ivory, surfeit it in their delicacy, wanton it in the bo●ome of security, and dedicate their whole time to sensuality, reflect upon such a sovereign salve or spiritual balm as this; they would draw back their feet from the ways of wantonness, and exercise them wholly in the paths of righteousness. They would remove their hands from unchaste embraces, and enure them to the search of Scriptures. They would stop their mouths from uttering aught 〈◊〉, and teach their tongues to be Orators of modesty. They would turn their eyes from vanity, and six them on the purest objects of eternity. That so, instead of bitterness of torments, they might taste the sw●●●nesse, of divine comforts: instead of multitude of torments, they might partake the numberless number of God's mercies: and instead of the eternity of those torments, immortality with God's Saints and Servants.  
Prevention is the life of policy; the way to avoid those, and enjoy these, is to live in your Court here on earth, where you are spheered, as in the presence of God and his heavenly Angels, where your hope is seated. Though your feet be here, your faith should be there: here your Camp, there your Court. Mean time, while you sojourn here, you are to hold a good Christian the completest Courtier: and that virtue is the ornament, which gives Compliment the best accomplishment. Silken honour is like painted meat; it may feed the eye, but affords no nourishment. That Courtier's Coat gives a vading gloss, whose heart is not inwardly lived with grace. Let goodness guide you in the way, and happiness will crown you in the end. Let your Complete armour be righteousness, your Compliment lowliness; complete in nothing so much as holiness; that in your convoy from Earth, you may be endenized in heaven, natural Citizens, angelical Courtiers.   

THE ENGLISH Gentlewoman.  
Argument.  
Decency recommended as requisite in four distinct Subjects: Decency the attractivest motive of affection: the smoothest path that leads to perfection.  
DECENCY. 
DECENCY.   
DECENCY takes Discretion ever along with her to choose her fashion. She accommodates herself to the place wherein she life's, the persons with whom she consorts, the rank or quality she partakes. She is too discreet to affect aught that may not seem her: too constant to change her habit for the invention of any fantastic wearer. What propriety she expresseth in her whole posture or carriage, you shall easily perceive, if you will but with a piercing eye, a serious survey, reflect upon her demeanour, 
Decency recommended as requisite in four distinct subjects.  in her Gate, Look, Speech, Habit. Of which, distinctly, we purpose to entreat, in our Entry to this Observation; that by these you may probably collect the excellency of her condition.  
THat, 
GATE.  wherein we should express ourselves the humblest, many times transports us most, and proclaims us proudest. It is no hard thing to gather the disposition of our heart, by the dimension of our gate. What a circular gesture we shall observe some use in their pace, as if they were troubled with the vertigo! Others make a tinkling with their feet, and make discovery of their light thoughts, by their wanton gate. Others with a jetting and strutting pace, publish their haughty and self-conceited mind. Thus do our Wantoness (as if they had transparent bodies) display their folly, and subject themselves to the censure of levity. This cannot Decency endure. When she sees Women, whose modesty should be the Ornament of their beauty, demean themselves more like Actors than civil Professants, she compassionately suffers with them, and with choice precepts of moral instruction (wherein she hath ever shown herself a singular proficient) she labours to reclaim them. With amorous, but virtuous Rhetoric, she woos them, hooping by that means to win them. She bids them look back to preceding times, yea those, on which that glorious light which shines in these Christian days, never reflected. And there they shall find Women highly censured, for that their outward carriage only made them suspected. A veil covered their face, modesty measured out their pace; their Spectators were as so many Censors: Circumspect therefore were they of their carriage, lest they should become a scandal or blemish to their sex. Their repair to their Temples was decent, without any lose or light gesture; Entering their Temples, constant and settled was their behaviour. Quick was their pace in dispatch of household affairs; but slow in their Epicureall visits or sensual gossiping. They had not the art of imitating such hu●●ing and mounting gates, as our light-spirited Dames now use. They were not as then learned to pace: so far estranged were they from the very lest conceit of vanity in this kind. How much more should these purer times, where verity is taught and embraced, vanity so much taxed and reproved, affect that most, which adorns and beautifies most? Is it not palpable folly, to walk so hautily in these streets of our captivity? Eye your feet, those bases of frailty, how they, who so proudly strut on earth, are but earth, and approach daily nearer their earth. The Swan, when she prides herself in her whiteness, reflects on her black feet, which brings down her plumes, and allays her self-conceit with more humbleness. What antic Pageants shall we behold in this survey of Earth? With what Apish gestures they walk, which taxeth them of lightness? How like Colosso's others walk, which discovers their haughtiness? how punctually these, as if they were Puppets drawn by an enforced motion? How fantastically those, as if their walk were a theatral action? These unstaid dimensions argue unsettled dispositions. All is not well with them. For if one of the Spartan Ephori was to lose his place, because he observed no Decency in his pace, how may we be opinioned of such Women, whose years exact of them staidness, whose places retain in them more peculiar reverence, and whose descents enjoin them to a state-reseruance; when they, to gain observance, admit of any new, but undecent posture? Deserve these approvement? No; discretion cannot prise them, nor judgement praise them, Vulgar opinion, whose applause never receives life from desert, may admire what is new, but discretion that only which is neat. It is one thing to walk honestly as on the day, another thing to walk uncivilly as on the night. Decency becomes the one; Deformity the other. Neither only are modest women to be cautelous how they walk, but where they walk. Some places there be, whereto if they repair, walk they never so Civilly, they cannot walk honestly. Those who value reputation, will not be seen there; for Honour is too dear a purchase to be set at sale. Such as frequent these places, have exposed themselves to shame; and made an irrevocable Contract with sin. They make choice of the Twilight, lest their paths should be discovered; and shroud their distained actions with the ●able Curtain of night, lest they should be displayed. These, howsoever their feet walk softly, their heart's post on swiftly, to seize on the voluptuous prey of folly.  
Fare be these ways from your walks, virtuous Ladies, whose modesty makes you honoured of your Sex. Though your feet be here below, let your faith be above. Let no path of pleasure draw you from those joys which last for ever. Though the world be your walk while you sojourn here; heaven should be your aim, that you may repose eternally there. Live devoutly, walk demurely, profess constantly; that devotion may instruct you, your ways direct you, your profession conduct you to your heavenly Country. It is a probable argument, that such an one hates her Country, where only she is to become Citizen, who thinks it to be well with her here, where she is a Pilgrim. Walk in this maze of your Pilgrimage, that after death you may enjoy a lasting heritage. So shall you praise God in the gate, and after your Christian race finished, receive a Crown.  
IT is most true, that a wanton Eye is the truest evidence 
LOOK.  of a wand'ring and distracted mind. The Arabians proverb is elegant; Shut the windows, that the house may give light. It is death that enters in by the windows. The House may be secured, if these be closed. Whence it was, that princely Prophet prayed so earnestly: Lord turn away mine eyes from vanity. And hence appears man's misery. That those Eyes, which should be the Cisterns of sorrow, limbeckes of contrition, should become the lodges of lust, and portals of our perdition. That those which were given us for assistants and associates, should become our assacinats. Our Eye is made the sense of sorrow, because the sense of sin; yet more apt is she to give way to sin, then to find one tear to rinse her sin. An unclean eye is the messenger of an unclean heart: confine the one, and it will be a means to rectify the other. Many dangerous objects will a wand'ring eye find, whereon to vent the disposition of her corrupt heart. No place is exempted, no subject freed. The ambitious eye makes honour her object, wherewith the afflicts herself, both in aspiring to what she cannot enjoy, as likewise in seeing another enjoy that, whereto herself did aspire. The Covetous makes wealth her object; which she obtains with toil, enjoys with fear, foregoes with grief: for being got they load her, loved they ●oile her, lost they gall her. The Envious makes her Neighbours flourishing field, or fruitful harvest, her object; she cannot but look on it, looking pine and repine at it, and repining justly consume her spirit with envying it. The Lascivious makes beauty her object, and with a leering look, while she throweth out her lure to catch others, she becomes catcht herself. This object, because it reflects most on your sex, let it be thus disposed, that the inward eye of your souls may be on a superior beauty fixed. Do ye admire the comeliness of any creature? remove your eye from that object, and bestow it on the contemplation of your Creator. Worms and flies, that have laye● dead all winter, by reflex of the Sun beams, are revived: so these fleshflies, who have been long time buried in these sensual Objects of earth, no sooner reflect on the Sun of righteousness, than they become enlivened and enlightened. Those films which darkened the eye of their minds, are removed, those thick Cataracts of earthly vanities are dispersed and dispelled, and a new light into a new heart infused.  
I know well, Gentlewomen, that your resort to places of eminent resort, cannot but minister to you variety of Objects. Yea, even where nothing but chaste thoughts, stayed looks, and zealous desires should harbour, are now and then lose thoughts, light looks, and licentious desires in especial honour. The means to prevent this malady, which like a spreading ulcer disperseth itself in every society, is neither willingly to take nor be taken. Dinah may be a proper Emblem for the eye; she seldom strays abroad, but she is in danger of ravishing. Now to preserve purity of heart, you must observe a vigilant discipline over every sense. Where, if the eye, which is the light of the body, be not well disposed, the rest of the senses cannot choose but be much darkened. We say, that the want of one peculiar sense supplies that defect with an higher degree of perfection in the rest. Sure I am, there is no one sense that more distempers the harmony of the mind, nor prospect of the Soul, than this window of the body. It opens ever to the Ra●en, but seldom to the Dove. Raving affections it easily conveys to the heart; but Dovelike innocence it rarely retains in the breast. As it is a member of the flesh, so becomes it a servant of the flesh; apprehending with greediness, whatsoever may minister fuel to carnal concupiscence. This you shall easily correct, by fixing her on that pure and absolute object, for which she was made. It is observed by professed Oeulists (an observation right worthy a Christians serious consideration) that whereas all creatures have but four Muscles to turn their eyes round about, man hath a fift to pull his eyes up to heaven. Do not then depress your eyes, as if they were fixed on earth, nor turn them round, by gazing on the fruitless vanities of earth; but on heaven, your haven after earth. In the Philosopher's scale, the soul of a fly is of more excellence than the Sun; in a Christian scale, the soul of man is infinitely more precious than all creatures under the Sun. Preserve then the honour of a beautiful soul, which suffers infinitely when it is blemished with any soil. So order and dispose your looks, as censure may not tax you of lightness, nor an amorous glance impeach you of wantonness. Send not forth a tempting eye to take another; nor entertain a tempting look darting from another. Neither take not be taken. To become a prey to others, will slave you; to make a prey of others, will transport you. Look then upward, where the more you look you shall like, the longer you live you shall love.  
Without Speech 
SPEECH.  can no society subsist. By it we express what we are, as vessels discover themselves best by their sound. Discretion makes opportunity her anvil, whereon is wrought a seasonable discourse. Otherwise, howsoever we speak much, we discourse little. That sage Stagirian debating of the convenience and propriety of discourse before Alexander, maintained, that none were to be admitted to speak (by way of positive direction) but either those that managed his wars, or his Philosophers which governed his house. This Opinion tasted of too much strictness (will our women say) who assume to themselves a privilege in arguments of discourse, be the argument never so course whereon they treat. Truth is, their tongues are held their defensive armour; but in no particular detract they more from their honour, than by giving too free scope to that glibery member. For to such as profess their ability at this weapon, may that saying of Pand●lphus be properly applied: They speak much ill, but they speak little well; they speak much, but do little. Again, They do little well, but they do much ill; they say well, but do ill. They promise much, but do little. What restraint is required in respect of the tongue, may appear by that ivory guard or garrison with which it is impaled. See, how it is double warded, that it may with more reseruancy and better security be restrained! To give liberty to the tongue to utter what it list, is the argument of an indiscreet person, In much Speech there can never want sin, it either leaves some tincture of vainglory, which discovers the proud heart, from whence it proceeded; or some taste of scurrility, which displays the wanton heart, from whence it streamed; or some violent and dispassionate heat, which proclaims a rancorous heart, from whence it issued. Whereas, a well-disposed mind will not speak before it conceive; nor deliver aught by way of expression, till it be prepared by a well-seasoned deliberation. That Philosopher's speech deserves retention; who seeing a silent guest at a public feast, used these words; If thou be'st wise, thou art a fool; if a fool, thou art wise in h●lding thy peace. As discourse usefully edifying confers a benefit to the hearer; so discourses fruitless and wand'ring, as they tire the ear, so they tax the discretion of the speaker. It was an excellent precept of Ecclesiasticus: 
Eccles. 22. 8. ●.  Thou that art young, speak, if need be, and yet scarcely when thou art twice asked. Comprehend much in few words; in many bee as one that is ignorant: be as one that understandeth, and yet hold thy tongue. The direction is general, but to none more consequently useful than to young women; whose bashful silence is an ornament to their Sex. Volubility of tongue in these, argues either rudeness of breeding, or boldness of expression. The former▪ may be reclaimed by a discreet Tutor, but the latter, being grounded on arrogancy of conceit, seldom or never. It will beseem you, Gentlewomen, whose generous education hath estranged you from the first, and whose modest disposition hath weaned you from the last; in public consorts to observe rather than discourse. It suits not with her honour, for a young woman to be prolocutor. But especially, when either men are in presence, or ancient Matrons, to whom she owes a civil reverence, it will become her to tip her tongue with silence. Touching the subject of your discourse, when opportunity shall exact it of you, and without touch of immodesty expect it from you; make choice of such arguments as may best improve your knowledge in household affairs, and other private employments. To discourse of State-matters, will not become your auditory: nor to dispute of high points of Divinity, will it sort well with women of your quality. These S●e●Clarkes many times broach strange opinions, which, as they understand them not themselves, so they labour to entangle others of equal understanding to themselves. That Divine sentence, being made an individuate consort to their memory, would reclaim them from this error, and free them from this opinionate censure; God forbidden, that we should not be readier to learn than to teach. Women, as they are to be no Speakers in the Church, so neither are they to be disputers of controversies of the Church. Holy Bernard pleasantly glanced at these, when on a time entering a Church, wherein the image of our Lady was erected, he was saluted by the Image in this manner, Good morrow Bernard; which device having quickly discovered, perceiving some person to be purposely enclosed in it, he forthwith replied: Your Ladyship hath forgot yourself; Women should be no Speakers in the Church. In one word, as modesty gives the best grace to your behaviour, so moderation of Speech to your discourse. Silence in a Woman is a moving Rhetoric, winning most, when in words it wooeth least. Now to give Speech and Silence their distinct attributes or personal Characters: we may gather their several tempers by the several effects derived from them. 
Ambros. in lib. de office Greg. in mor.  More shall we see fall into ●inne by Speech than Silence: Yea, whosoever intendeth himself to speak much, seldom observes the course of doing what is just.  
In the whole current of your discourse, let no light subject have any place with you● this, as it proceeds from a corrupt and indisposed heart, so it corrupts the hearer. Likewise, beware of selfe-prayse; it argues you have flow neighbours, or few deserts. Let not calumny run descant on your tongue: it discovers your passion too much; in the mean time, venting of your spleen affords no cure to your grief, no salve to your sore. If opportunity give your sex argument of discourse; let it neither taste of affectation, for that were servile; nor touch upon any wanton relation, for that were uncivil; nor any State-politicall action, for the height of such a subject, compared with your weakness, were unequal. If you affect Rhetoric, let it be with that familiarity expressed, as your plainness may witness for you, that you do not affect it. This will make your Speech seem gracious to the Hearer, confer a native modesty on the Speaker, and free you of all prejudicate censure.  
THere is nothing which moves us more to pride it in sin, 
HABIT.  than that which was first given us to cover our shame. The fruit of a Tree made man a sinner; and the leaves of a Tree gave him a cover. In your Habit is your modesty best expressed; your dispositions best discovered. The Habit of the mind is discerned by the state or posture of the body; the condition or quality of the body by the Habit, which either adds or detracts from her beauty. As we cannot probably imagine such to have modest minds, who have immodest eyes; so can we not properly say such women to be modest matrons or professors of piety, who in their attire show arguments of their immodesty. It skils not much, for the quality of your habits, whether they be silken or woollen, so they be civil and not wanton. For albeit, some have affirmed that all gorgeous attire is the attire of sin, the quality of the person may seem to extenuate the quality of that sin. For noble and eminent personages were in all times admitted to wear them; and to be distinguished by them: Neither indeed, is the sumptuousness of the habit, so reprehensive as the phantasticknes of the habit respect of the form or fashion. It is this which derogates highly from the repute of a Christian, to see her affect variety & inconstancy of attire, more than ever did Pagan. There is nothing which introduceth more effeminacy into any flourishing State, than vanity in habit. Where we may observe fashion, many times▪ so long affected, till all fashion become exiled. Surely, whatsoever our lighter disposed Courtesans think, it is Civility which adds most grace, Decency which expresseth best state, and comeliness in attire which procures most love. Other habits, as they display the mind of the wearer, so are they subjects of laughter or contempt to any discreet beholder. Time is too precious to be made a Pageant or Morris on. These misconceived ornaments are mere deformities to good minds. Virtuous and discreet Matrons would be loath to wear aught that might give least scandal or offence to their sex. Foreign fashions are no baits to catch them, nor fantastic, rather phanaticke dress to delude them. They cannot eye that habit which deserves approving, nor that attire which merits loving, where Civility is not pattern. Decency is their choicest liberty, which sets then forth above a●l Embroidery. There was an ancient Edict amongst the Romans, purposely to rid the State of all useless loiterers, 
Cic. in lib. de leg.  that no Roman should go through the streets of the City, unless he carried with him the badge or signal of that Trade whereby he lived: insomuch, that Marc, Aurelius, speaking of the diligence of the Romans, giveth them this deserving testimony, that all of them followed their labour. Now I mar●ell, whether upon due survey of all those artisans, either Periwig, Gregorian-maker, or Tyre-woman, had any set place or proper vocation, or what badges they might bear to signify their profession. Would not these newfound Artists have been rather derided than approved, jeered than applauded? Sure, Rome was more civil than to give way to so contagious an evil. Vesta had her maidens, so had Viriplaca her Matrons; but neither of their followers could admit of any new-minted fashions. That Lady City had never soueranized over so many rich States, swelling Empires, victorious Princes, had she exposed herself to such vanity, which had been the greatest Eclipse to her spreading glory.  
To you let me bend my discourse, whose more generous parts confer more true beauty on themselves, than these outward fopperies can ever do: do not betray your names to suspicion. The Chaplet of fame is not reserved for wantoness, nor such as suit themselves to the habit of lightness; for these add one degree more to their sex's weakness: but for such women as array themselves in comely apparel, 
1 Tim. 2. 9, 10.  with shamefastness and modesty, not with braided hair, or gold, or pearls, or costly apparel. But, as becometh women that profess the fear of God. For even after this manner in time past did the holy women, 
Pet. 3. 5.  which trusted in god, tire themselves. Here you have a direct platform, how to attire yourselves outwardly; suiting your civil habit with variety of sweet graces inwardly▪ ●et not then these Spider-cauls delude you, discretion will laugh at them, modesty loathe them, Decency contemn them. Lose bodies sort best with these adulterate beauties. Those, whose conversation is in heaven, though they sojourn here on earth; Those, whose erected thoughts spheere them in an higher Orb than this Circle of frailty; Those, whose spotless affections have devoted their best service to goodness, and made Modesty the exact mould of all their actions, cannot endure to stoop to such brainsick Lures. And such are you, whose generous descent, as it claims precedence of others, so should your virtuous demeanour in these four distinct subjects, GATE, LOOK, SPEECH, HABIT, improve your esteem above others. In Gate, by walking humbly: in Look, by disposing it demurely; in Speech, by delivering it moderately; in Habit, by attiring yourselves modestly: all which, like four choice borders, perfumed with sweetest odours, will beautify those lovely lodges of your souls with all Decency. Mean while, imprint these Divine motions in your memory. And first for the first, hold this tenet; To walk, walking to meditate, meditating to make the subject of it your Maker, is the best portion of the Creature; for the second, to fix your eye with that indifferency on the Creature, as it never avert your contemplative eye from your Creator; for the third, to direct your Speech to the benefit of the hearer, and to avoid impertinences for conscience-sake fare more than censure; for the fourth and last, to make choice of that Habit, whose Civility may do you honour, and publish you examples of Decency to any discreet or temperate beholder.  
WHat is it that conveys more affection to the heart, 
Decency the attractivest motive of affection.  than Decency in the object we affect? The Spouse in the Cantiales was black▪ but comely; and this gave praise to her beauty. A strayed look may more affection in a light heart, but in a virtuous mind it begets 〈◊〉. Truth is, in this disordered age, where the be●● shot to be discharged is the Tavern bill, the best Alarm is the sounding of healths, and the most absolute March is reeling; discretion hath received such a maim, as affection is seldom measured by what we are, but what we wear. Vanity hath set up her Flag; and more freshwater soldiers desire to fight under her Banner, than the Ensign of honour. But all this works little upon a constant and rightly-tempered disposition. Such an one plants there his love, where with comfort he may live. Do you think that a jetting Gate, a leering Look, a glibery Tongue, or gaudy Attire can move affection in any one worthy your love? Sure no; he deserves a light one for his choice, who makes his choice by one of these. To be an admirer of one of these, were to prefer in his choice a May-marrian before a Modest Matron. Now there are some fashions which become one incomparably more than another; the reason whereof may be imputed either to the native propriety of the party using that form, habit, or compliment; or else to the quality of the person, which makes the fashion used, infinitely more gracious. For the first, you shall never see any thing imitated, but it seems the imitator worst at the first. Habit will bring it into a second nature; but till such time as custom hath matured it, many imperfections will usually attend it. Whereas, whatsoever is naturally inbred in us, will best beseem and adorn us; it needs no other face than what nature gave it, and would generally become worse, were it never so little enforced. For the second, as in any theatral presentment, what becomes a Peer or Potentate, would not sort with the condition of any inferior substitute; every one must be suited to the person he presents: So in the Theatre of state, distinct fashions both in Habit and Compliment are to be retained, according to the place wherein he is ranked. Lucrece, no doubt, stamped a deeper impression of affection in the heart of her beholder, by addressing herself to houswivery and purple-spinning, than others could ever do with their rear banquets and riotous spending. All are not of Aegys●us mind, who was taken with a Compliment of lightness. This argued, that a youthful heat had rather surprised his amorous heart, than any discreet affection preferred him to his choice. But how vading is that love, which is so lightly grounded? To what dangerous overtures is it exposed? Where Virtue is not directrice in our choice, our inconstant minds are ever prone to change. We find not what we expected; nor digest well what we formerly affected; All is out of square, because discretion contrived not the building. To repair this breach, and make the Object we once entertained, ever beloved: Let nothing give us Content, but what is decent. This is the Habit, Gentlewomen, which will best become you to be wooed in, and content a discreet Suitor most to have you won in. All others are neither worth viewing, wooing, weighing, nor wearing. Rich ●ewels, the more we look on them, the more are we taken with them. Such jewels are modest women, whose countenance promiseth goodness, an enforced smile native bashfulness, every posture such tokens of Decency and comeliness, as Caius Tarqvinius in his Caia could conceive no fuller happiness. She, I say, who made wool and purple her day's task, and this her constant impreze▪ Where thou art cain's, I am Caia. Conform then you generous Dispositions to a Decency of fashion, that you may attract to yourselves and beget in others, motives of affection.  
Fountains run by many winding and mazie Currents into one main River; Rivers by sundry Channels into one main Ocean. 
Decency the smoothest path that leads to perfection.  Several ways direct passengers into one City; but one only way guides man to the heavenly City. This way is Virtue, which like some choice confection sweetens the difficulty of every Occurrent that encounters her in her quest after Perfection, Of all those Cardinal Virtues, it is Temperance only which seasons and gives them a virtuous relish. Which Virtue dilates itself to several branches; all which bud forth into one savoury fruit or other. It is true, that he who is every way Complete, may be properly styled an absolute man. But what is it which makes him Complete? It is not a scrude face, an artful Cringe, or an Italianate duck that deserves so exquisite a title. Another age will discountenance these, and cover these Complete formalists with dust. No, Ladies; it is something that partakes of a more Divine Nature, than a mere Complemental gesture. If you would aspire to perfection, observe the mean, that you may attain the end. Temperance you cannot embrace, if Decency be estranged from your choice. If temperate, you cannot choose but be decent: for it includes an absolute moderation of our desires in all subjects.  
Come then, Gentlewomen, love to be decent, and that will teach you the best Compliment. You have that in you, which divinely employed, will truly ennoble you. Your descent may give you an higher ascent by way of precedency before others, but this you cannot appropriate to your own deserts, but that Nobility of blood which is derived to you by others. Labour to have something of your own, which you may challenge to be yours properly, without any help of an ancient pedigree; How well doth it seem you, to express a civil decent state in all your actions? You are in the eyes of many, who precisely observe you, and desire to imitate whatsoever they note observable in you. You may then become excellent patterns unto others, by retaining decency, and entertaining her for your follower. She will make you appear gracious in their sight, whose judgements are pure and uncorrupted; howsoever our Corky censurers traduce you, your fame cannot be blemished, nor the odour of those virtues which so sweetly chafe and perfume you, decayed. Decency attended you in your life, and the memory of your virtues shall crown you after death. Even there, 
Aug Soliloq. Cap. XXXV.  Where youth never ageth, life never endeth, beauty never fadeth, love never faileth, health never vadeth, joy never decreaseth, grief is never felt, groans are never heard, no object of sorrow to be seen, gladness ever to be found, no evil to be feared. Yea, the King shall take pleasure in your beauty, and at your end invest you with endless glory. Prise not then the censure of sensual man, for he is wholly set on vanity; but fix your eyes on him, who will clothe you with eternity. Let this be your Crown of comfort, that many are improved by your Example, 
Se●. de vita b●a●a.  many weaned from sin, many won to Zion. By sowing the seed of goodness, that is, by giving good examples, expressed best by the effectual works of faith, you shall reap a glorious harvest, Actions of goodness shall live in you, and cause all good men to love you. Whereas, those are to be esteemed worst, who not only use things evilly in themselves, but likewise towards others, For, of so many deaths is every one worthy, as he hath left examples of naughtiness unto posterity. 
Aug. Med. c. 4. Greg. in 〈◊〉.  Let virtues then be the stairs to raise you; these will add unto your honour, seat you above the reach of Censure, and join you individually to your best Lover.   

THE ENGLISH Gentlewoman.  
Argument.  
Estimation, a Gentlewoman's highest prize; how it may be discerned to be real; how superficial; how it may be impregnably preserved; how irreparably lost; The absolute end, whereto it chief aspires, and wherein it cheerfully rests.  
ESTIMATION. 
Estimation.   
ESTIMATION is a good opinion drawn from some probable grounds. 
Estimation, a Gentlewoman's highest prize.  An unualuable gem, which every wise Merchant, who tenders his honour, prefers before life. The loss of this makes him an irreparable Bankrupt. All persons ought to rate it high, because it is the value of themselves, though none more dear than those, in whom modesty and a more impressive fear of disgrace usually lodge. These, so cautelous are they of suspicion, as they will not engage their good names to purchase affection. Public resorts, because they may corrupt, they avoid; Privacy they consort with, and in it converse with their own thoughts, whether they have in them aught that may betray them. They observe what in others deserves approvement, and this they imitate; with an uncorrupt eye they note others defects, which they make use of as a caveat. Pure is their mould, but fare purer the temper of their mind. Fame they hold the sweetest flower that ever grew near the border of Time. Which, lest either it should whither for want of moisture, or wanting warmth should lose its vigour, they bedew it with gracious affects, and renew it with zealous resolves, Descent, as they draw it from others, so would they improve it in themselves. Ancient houses, now and then, stand in need of props and pillars; these would they have supplied with the Cardinal virtues.  
These are Emblems of yourselves (Noble Ladies) who so highly tender your honour, as Estimation on ga●●es you more than what your bloods gave you. It is a Princely command of your affections, which mounts you to this height of goodness: distinguishing betwixt ●lind love, and discreet affection. Pleasure cannot make you so forgetful of your honour, as to deprive you of that in a moment, which you shall never recover. Virtue hath taken that seazure of you, as no light thought can seize on you, or dispossess her of that claim she hath in you Treacherous Tarpeia's may be taken with gifts; but your honour is of too high an estimate to suffer the ●ast blemish for reward. You observe what staine● have laid, & do yet lie upon may ancient families by means of attainders in their Progenitors. Their bloods (say we) were corrupted, whereby their estates became confiscated, their houses from their lineal successors estranged, and they to lasting infamy exposed. Certainly, though not in so high degree (for these were Capital) many family's have received deep stains from light actions, which neither time, though never so aged, could wear out, nor the living exploits of their noble successors wipe off. Vice hath ever been of a deeper die than virtue; and the memory of the one commonly survives the fame of the other. Wounds, when they are healed, leave their scars behind them: Paths retain their prints. Your memory shall neither receive life from that noble blood which sprinkles in you, no● from any monumental shrine which may hereafter cover you, but from those precious odours of your everliving virtues, which shall eternize you. These are of power to make such as long since died, and whose unequalled beauty is for many ages since to ashes turned, retain a flourishing fame in the grateful memory of the living. 
Penelope for spending chaste her days,  
As worthy as Ulysses was of praise.   
A daily siege she suffered, and in her Conquest equal was she to those victorious Peers of Greece, who made Troy their triumph. Estimation was her highest prize. Suitors she got, yet amidst these, was not her Ulysses forgot. Long absence had not estranged her affection; youthful consorts could not move in her thoughts the least distraction; neither could opportunity induce her to give way to any light action.  
Well might Greece then esteem her Penelope of more lasting fame than any Pyramid that ever she erected. Her unblemished esteem was of fare purer stuff than any ivory statue that could be reared. Nor was Rome less beholden to her Lucrece, who set her honour at so high a price, as she held death too light to redeem such a prize. 
Though force, frights, foes, and furies gazed upon her,  
These were no wounds but wonders to her honour.   
The presence of a Prince no less amorous than victorious, could not win her; though with him price, prayer, and power did jointly woo her. Well deserved such two modest Matrons the choice Embraces of two such heröicke Champions, as might equal their constant Loves with the tender of their dearest lives. And two our Histories afford, whom succeeding fame hath recorded eminent, because double Conquerors, both of Cities and of themselves: puissant and continent. This noble testimony we receive of Scipio, that being a young man of twenty four years of age, in the taking of a City in Spain, he repressed the flaming heat of his youthful desires, when a beautiful maid was brought him, restoring her to a young man called Allutius, to whom she was espoused, with a great reward. Right worthy was he to conquer another, who could with such temper subdue himself: such good success hath ever attended on these Moral virtues, though professed by Pagans. The other Heröe was rightly 
* Cap.  Augustus both in name and nature; and wherefoe're you look, a victorious CAESAR. Cleopatra kneeled at his feet, 
Tit. Liu. lib 4. cap. XI.  laid baits for his eyes; but in vain; her beauties were beneath that Prince's chastity.  
Absolute Commanders were these Heröicke Princes of their affections, yet a fare more singular argument of his composed disposition, and of Moral, if not Divine, Mortification, shown that young man SPUTIMIA in Valerius Maximus, whose beauty did so incomparably become him, as it occasioned many women to lust af●er him: which this noble youth no sooner prrceived, than he purposely wounded his face, that by the scar he sustained; his beauty might become more blemished, and consequently all occasion of lusting after it, clearly removed.  
Now (Gentlewomen) if you make Estimation your highest prize; if you prefer honour before pleasure, or what else is dear or tender; your fame will find wings to fly with. This will gain you deserving Suitors. Portion may woo a worldling; Proportion a youthful Wanton; but it is Virtue that wins the heart of discretion.  
Surely, I have seldom known any make this esteem of honour, and dye a contemptible beggar. Such as have been prodigal of it, have felt the misery of it; whereas, a chaste mind hath ever had something to succour and support it. Thus you see what this inward beauty is, which if you enjoy, you sit fare above the reach of Calumny; age cannot taint it, nor youth tempt it. It is the Estimation within you, that so confines you, as you hate that place which gives opportunity, that person which makes importunity his agent to lay siege to your Chastity.  
Now we are to descend to the second branch, wherein we are to show you how this Estimation, which is your highest prize, may be discerned to be real; which is not gathered by the first appearance, but a serious and constant trial.  
IN Philosophy, a man gins with experience, and then with beleef● but in Divinity, we must first begin in faith, and then proceed to knowledge. True it is, that the Sun, Moon, and Stars become subject to vanity; yet charity bids me believe, that there are many beauteous and resplendent Stars in this our Firmament, many fresh fragrant Roses in this our enclosed Garden of Albion, who have preserved their beauty without touch, their honour without taint. Where, if vanity did touch them, yet did it not so seize on them, as to disfigure or transform them. You (noble Gentlewomen) are those Stars, whose glory can never be eclipsed, so long as your Estimation life's unstained; you are those fragrant Roses, whose beauty cannot be tainted, so long as your stalk of honour grows untouched. Now to the end that your lustre may not be like to that of the Glow-worm, nor rotten wood, which is merely imaginary, compared with that is real; 
How Estimation may be discerned to be real.  you are not to make fair and glorious pretences, purposely to gull the world, and cast a mist before the eyes of bleered judgements. No, you are to be really, what you appear outwardly. These that walk in the Clouds, though they deceive others much, yet they deceive themselves most. Observe then this rule of direction; it will accomplish you more than any outward Ornament that Art can bestow on you; Be indeed what you desire te be thought. Are you Virgins? dedicate those inward Temples of yours to chastity; abstain from all corrupt society; enure your hands to works of piety, your tongues to words of modesty. Let not a strayed look tax you of lightness, nor a desire of gadding impeach you of wantonness. The way to win an husband is not to woo him, but to be wooed by him. Let him come to you, not you to him. Proffered ware is not worth the buying. Your states are too pure, to be set at sale; too happy, to be weary of them. So long as you live as you are, so your minds be pure, you cannot possibly be poor. You have that within you, will enrich you, so you conform your minds to your means. In the discourse of virtues, and true estimate of them, 
Sallust.  none was ever held more excellent than that which is found in chaste youth. You are Conquerors in that, wherein the greatest Conquerors have failed. Your chaste paths are not traced with wand'ring desires; your private Chambers arrased with amorous passions; you spin not out the tedious night in ah me's. Your repast finds no hindrance in digestion; your harmless repose no lovesick distraction. Others you may command; by none commanded. Others will vow their service unto you; while you are from all servitude freed. Live then worthy the freedom of so noble a Condition; for your Virgin state wants nothing that may enlarge her freedom. Again, are you wives? you have attained an honourable state; and by it made partakers of that individuate union, where one soul ruleth two hearts, and one heart dwelleth in two bodies. You cannot suffer in that, wherein you have not one share. Grief by your Consort is allayed; joy by partaking with him is augmented. You have now taken upon you to become Secretaries to others as well as yourselves; but being one and the same with yourselves, do not betray their trust, to whose trust you have recommended yourselves. Imagine now (to recall to memory an ancient Custom) that you have broken the axletree of your Coach at your door; you must be no more stragglers. These walking Burses and movable Exchanges, sort not with the constancy of your Condition. You must now intent the growth and proficience of those Olive branches about your table. Like a curious and continuate builder, you must ever address yourselves to one work or other. From their infancy to their youth, from their youth to their maturer growth For the first, I know well that distich to be most true. 
A mother to be Nurse, that's great and fair,  
Is now held base: True Mothers they be rare.   
But fare was it from those ancient heröicke Ladies, to think this to be either a disgrace to their place, or a blemish to their beauty. Their names are by aged Annals memorised, and shall by these of ours be revived. Such were Cornelia, the mother of Gracchu●, and Vetruria of Coriolanu●; who became examples of goodness and chastity, Educating their children which they had brought up from their own breasts, with the milk of morality.  
The like did Portia the wife of Brutus; Cle●bula the daughter of Cleobulus, one of the seven Sages of Greece; Sulpitia the wife of Calenus, who not only instructed her children which she had tenderly nursed, with excellent precepts while she lived, but left sundry memorable instructions, as Legacies or Mother's blessings to them, when she died. Hortensia, the excellent daughter of a most eloquent Orator, deserved no less fame, for her motherly care in nursing and breeding, her ability in copious and serious discoursing, her gravity in composing and digesting such golden sentences, as she afterwards recommended to the perusal of her surviving Children. Ed●sia borne at Alexandria, fare excelled others in profundity of learning, and piety of living; she was admired by such as lived in her time: performing the office of a Nurse in her children's infancy, of a Guardian in their minority, of a Sage Counsellor in their maturity.  
Paulina the wife of Seneca, as she was excellently seasoned with the precepts of her husband, so she surceased not from commending them to the practice of those children she had by her husband. Whence it was, that Sen●ca bemoaned the ignorance of his mother, for that she had not so exactly observed the precepts of his Father. What shall I speak of Thean●, the daughter of Metapontus? Phemone, who was first that ever composed heröicke verse? Cori●nathia, who exceeded the Poet Pindarus in her curious and artful measures; and contending five several times with him for the Garland? Argenta●ia Polli●, the wife of Lucan: whom she is reported to have assisted in those his high and heroic composures? Zenobia the Queen of Palmira, who learned both the Greek and Latin tongue, and compiled an excellent History; approving herself no less a constant wife to her husband, than a nursing Mother to her children? Theodosia younger daughter of the virtuous and victorious Theodosius; no less renowned for her learning and other exquisite endowments of mind, than by being inaugurated with an imperial title, to which she was afterwards advanced. The Centons of Homer she composed, and into one volume reduced, which to her surviving glory were after published. Diodorus Logicus his five daughters, all which excelled in learning and chastity, and left memorials of their motherly care to their posterity.  
These were tender Nurses, careful Mothers, reverend Matrons. Or to give them that title which antiquity hath bestowed on them; they were in so dark and cloudy a time, patterns of piety, precedents of purity, champions of chastity, mirrors of modesty, jewels of integrity. Women (to use Plutarch's words) so devoted to contemplating, as they conceived no delight in dancing; yet could not contemplation estrange them from performing such proper offices as did concern them. They knew what it was to obey; that it was not fit for an inferior member to command the head, nor for them to soveraignize over their husbands. What had sometimes been taught them by their Mothers, they now carefully recommend to the serious review of their Daughters. 
Wives with obedience husbands should subdue, 
Sen. in Octau.   
For by this means they'll be subdued to you.   
Thus learned they the duty of a wife, before they aspired to that title: conform yourselves to their examples: the cloud which kept them from a full view of their condition, is in respect of you, dispersed; your eyes are cleared, not with any Pagan error filmed. Be then in this your Christian conjugal Pilgrimage so conformed, that as with increase of days, so with approvement of deserts you may be firmed.  
Again, are you widows? you deserve much ho●●ur, if you be so indeed. This name both from the Greek and Latin hath received one consonant Etymology; deprived or destitute. Great difference then is there, betwixt those widows who live alone, and retire themselves from public concourse, and those which frequent the company of men. For a widow to love society, albeit her intentions relish nothing but sobriety, gives speedy wings to spreading infamy. Saint Hierom writing to E●stachia, gives her this counsel; If thou shalt find any question in Scripture, harder than thou canst well resolve; demand satisfaction from such an one, who is of a most approved life, ripe age; that by the integrity of his person, thou mayst be secured from the least aspersion: for in popular concourse and Court-re●orts there is no pace for widows: for in such meetings she exposeth her honour to danger, which above all others she ought incomparably to tender. Yea, but will you object: admit, our inheritance, family, fortunes, and all lie a bleeding? may we not make recourse to public Courts, for redress of our public wrongs? What of all this? Do not complain that you are desolate or alone, Modesty affecteth silence and secrecy; a chaste woman solitariness and privacy. If you have business with the judge of any Court, and you much fear the power of your adversary, employ all your care to this end, that your faith may be grounded in those promises of Christ: Your Lord maketh intercession for you, rendering right judgement to the Orphan, and righteousness unto the widow.  
This inestimable inheritance of Chastity is incomparably more to be esteemed, and with greater care preserved by Widows than Wives: albeit, by these neither to be neglected, but highly valued. Out of that ancient experience which time hath taught them, their own observations informed them, and the reverence of their condition put upon them; they are to instruct others in the practice of piety; reclaim others from the paths of folly, and with a virtuous convoy guide them to glory. It would less become them to trick and trim themselves gaudily or gorgeously, then young girls, whose beauty and outward ornament is the hope and anchor-hold of their preferment: for by these do the husbands seek, and hope in time to get what they seek. Whereas, it were much more commendable for widows neither to seek them, nor being offered, to accept them: le● enforced by necessity, or won by importunacy, or giving way to their frailty, they make exchange of their happy estate for a continuate scene of misery. A widow ought to pray fervently, to exercise works of devotion frequently, that the benefit of her prayer redound to her effectually and fruitfully; and not return back from the throne of God drily or emptily. For I would (according to Menander's opinion) have a widow not only to demean herself chastely and honestly, but likewise to give examples of her blameless life to such as hear her instructions attentively. For she ought to be as a Glass to young Maids, wherein they may discern their crimes.  
Now I hold her a chaste Widow, who though she have opportunity to do it, and be suited by importunity unto it, yet will not suffer her breast to harbour an unchaste thought, or consent unto it. In that Country where I was borne (saith Lud. Viues) we usually term such widows the greatest associates and assistants of vices, whose too much delicacy in bringing up their children, makes them ofttimes-depraved, and to all inordinate liberty addicted. Wherefore, I approve well of their course, who recommend the care of their children to some discreet and well-disposed person. For such is the too tender affection of mothers towards their children, and so much are they blinded with the love of them, as they think they treat them too roughly, albeit they embrace them never so tenderly.  
Saint Jerome writing unto Saluina, saith; The chastity of a woman is frail and fading▪ like a flower quickly perishing and vading, with the least gust or blast of adverse Fortune failing, if not falling: especially, where her age is apt for vice, and the authority of her husband wants to afford her advice; from whose assistance, her honour derives her best succour and supportance. Who, if she have a great family, many things are required of her, and to be found in her, to minister supply to the necessity of time, and use of affairs, wherein she stands interessed. Requisite therefore it were, that she made choice of some one discreetly ripe both in years and inward gifts, by whose honest integrity her family might be better managed, with more diligence attended, and to the woman less occasion of disgrace objected.  
For I have known very many women, who albeit they spent their days continually within their own doors, yet have fallen into reproach either by some persons observing them, or of their own families disposed by them; for suffering their servants go abroad to neatly, arguing thereby a neglect of their family: so as the handmaid's pride brought her Mistress into suspicion of contemning her honour.  
Sure it is, that an honest woman, whose fame is her highest prize, requires nothing else, desires nothing else, than to satisfy her husband's bequest, though dead: honouring him with a due Commemoration and admiration of his virtues: for the lives of those that die, consist in the memory of those that live. So did Anthonia the daughter of Marc. Authonie, and wife to Drusus: leading all the remainder of her life with her stepmother, and retaining always the remembrance of her dead husband. The like did Livia, who left both her house and land, that she might dwell under one roof with Noemia: fearing, perhaps, lest the Maids of h●r family growing ●oo lasciviously wanton and inordinate, might by their lightness prejudice her honour, which she incomparably valued above any treasure. See you not hereby our discourse (Gentlewomen) what excellent Lights darted out from those dark times! Estimation was their best portion; nothing of equal prize unto it virtues were their choicest Ornaments, which they preserved with such constancy, as fear of death could not deprive them of them, though after death they had scarce the least glimpse of immortality.  
Thus have we traced over these three Conditions, which we have stored with precepts, strengthened with examples, sweetened with choicest sentences; that this real Estimation, whereof we treat, might be discerned; and that Superficial Esteem, whereon we are now to insist, discovered.  
MAny desire to appear most to the eye, 
How Estimation may be discerned to be superficial.  what they are least in heart. They have learned artfully to gull the world with appearances; and deceive the time, wherein they are Maskers, with visard's and semblances. These can enforce a smile, to persuade you of their affability; sergeant a blush, to paint out their modesty; walk alone, to expres●e their love to privacy; keep their houses, to publish them provident purveyors for their family; receive strangers, to demonstrate their love to hospitality. Their speech is minced, their pace measured, their whole posture so cunningly composed, as one would imagine them terrestrial Saints at least, whereas they are nothing less than what they most appear. Some you shall observe so demure, as in their Salutes they forbear to express that freedom of Curtsy, which civil custom exacts of them. Those true Trojan Dames, to pacify their incensed husbands, could find a lip to procure them love, and supple their contracted look. Whereas, these civilised Dames, either out of a reseruancy of state, or desire to be observed, scorn to be so familiarly demeaned; as if they renounced antiquity, and sought by all means, that such Customs as plead prescription, might be reversed. Their Lipp● must be their Cheek; which as it retains a better tincture, so many times a sweeter savour.  
At these, the Poet no less pleasingly than deservedly glanced in this Sonnet: 

Tell me what is Beauty? Skin;  
Pure to th' eye, but poor within,   

What's a kiss of that pure fair?  
But Love's Lure, or Adonis' slaire.   

Nectar-balme did Adonis sip  
Not from Venus' cheek but lip.   

Why should then Love's beauty seek,  
To change lip unto be cheek?    
All which he elegantly clozeth in opposition to himself, with these continuate Stanza's: 
Cheek shall I cherke, because I may not taste it?  
No; Nature rather; who to th' eye so placed it,  
As none can view it, but he must draw near it;  
O make the Chart familiar, or else tear it!   
To purchase improvement of esteem by these means, were to swim against the stream. Discretion cannot approve of that for good, which self-opinion or singularity only makes good. These are but Superficial shows, which procure more contempt than repute, more derision than ground of esteem. It is not a civil habit, a demure look, a stayed gate that deserves this report, unless all these be seconded with a resolved soul, and a religious heart. Those who dedicate themselves to the ●●ruice of virtue, prefer the pith before the rind, substance before appearance. What can be safe, will these say with Lucretius, to any woman, if she prostitute her honour, or make it common? Good women, as they labour to avoid all occasion of scandal, so much more any act that may give breath to scandal. Civil they are in heart and habit; Constant in the profession of virtue.  
For others, they imitate the Whorish Woman, who wipes her mouth, and saith, Who seethe me? So they carry themselves charily, they care not how little chastely. There is none looks through the Chink to see them, none in presence to hear them, freely therefore may they commit, what shall afterwards shame them. Let me then direct my Speech to these whited walls, who make pretences their best attendants, immaske their Impudence with the Veil of darkness,  
Tell me, ye deluded daughters, is there any darkness so thick and palpable, that the piercing eye of heaven cannot spy you thorough it? O, if ye hope by sinning secretly to sin securely, you shall be forced to say unto your God, as Ahab said unto elijah: Hast thou found me, O mine Enemy? Nay, O God terrible and dreadful, thou hast found me. And then let me ask you in the same terms that the young Gallant in Eras●us asked his wanton Mistress: Are you not ashamed to do that in the sight of God and before his holy Angels, which you are ashamed to do in the sight of men? Sin's may be without danger for a time, but never without fear. Stand then as in the presence of God: redeem the time you have lost; love that which you have hitherto loathed; loath that which you have hitherto loved, Know that these Superficial Complementors, are hypocritical Courtiers; these formal Damazens, professed Courtesans. You must not hold Religion to be mere Compliment. I will not say, but the bleered eye of humane reason may be taken with these; and conceive them real, which are only Superficial. But the All-seeing eye cannot be deceived; he sees not as man seethe. Neither distance of place, nor resemblance of that Object, whereon his eye is fixed, can cause him to mistake.  
Would you then be Courtiers graced in the highest Court? Throw away whatsoever is Superficial; and entertain what will make you Divinely real. It is not seeming goodness that will bring you to the fountain of all goodness. The Figtree brought forth leaves, yet because it yielded no fruit, it was cursed. Do ye blossom? So doth every Hypocrite. Do ye bring forth fruits? So doth a Christian. What is it to purchase Estimation on earth, and lose it in heaven? This will sleep in dust, but that never. Your highest task should be how to promote God's honour, and to esteem all things else a slavish and servile labour. Thus by seeming what you are, and really expressing what you seem, you shall purchase that esteem with God and good men, which is real, by shunning ostentation, which would set such a vading gloss on all your actions, as they will seem merely Superficial.  
A Discreet Commander will take no less care in manning and managing the Fort he hath won, 
How Estimation may be impregnably preserved.  than in winning it. It is a constant maxim; there is no less difficulty in keeping than getting. Some are more able to get a victory, than skilful to use it; Others have more art to use it, than courage to achieve; few or none so accomplished, as propitiously to win it, and prudently to wear it.  
We are now to suppose, that you (virtuous Ladies) to whom we address this Labour, are victoriously seated in the fort of honour, where beauty cannot be planted, but it must be attempted. But so constantly gracious are your resolves, that though it be assaulted, it can never be soiled; attempted but never attainted. This you desire, and to this you hope to aspire. In the Port or entrance of every Castle, City, or Citadel, there useth some Percullas to be in readiness, to frustrate the Enemy's assault, and keep him from entry. The like must you prepare, if you desire to have your honour secured, your daring enemy repelled, and a glorious conquest purchased. And what must this Spiritual Engine be, but a religious Constancy, to resist temptation; and all the better to subdue it, to shun the occasion? I do not admit of any Par●ies over your walls, they give new breath to the beleaguer, and oftimes makes a prey of the beleaguered. If the assault be hot, devotion best fortifies the hold. One Christian aspiration breathes comfort to the besieged, and promiseth relief when she is most straightened. Of all arrows these which are darted by the spirit of zeal, wound the enemy most, and procure the archer best rest. And that in all assaults whatsoever, plotted or practised by so malicious a Tempter.  
Lactantius showeth, 
Lactant. lib 2 diuin. ins●●●. ca 16.  that in his days, among many other examples of the weakness of Idolatry, in the presence of Christianity, a silly Servingman that was a Christian, following his Master into a certain Temple of Idols; the gods cried out, That 〈◊〉 could be well done, as long as that Christian was intresence. 
〈◊〉. l. 5. de praep. Euang.  The like recordeth Eusebius of Di●clesian, the Emperor, who going to Apollo for an Oracele; received answer; That the just men were the cause that he could say nothing. Which just men Apollo's Priest interpreted to be meant ironically of Christians: and thereupon Dioclesian began his most cruel and fierce persecution in Fusebi●● days. Sozo●●nes also writeth, that julian th' Apostata endeavouring with many sacrifices and conjurations to draw an answer from Apollo Daphnaeus, in a famous place called Daphne, in the Suburbs of Antioch: understood at last by the Oracle, that the bones of S. Babylas the Martyr, that lay near to the place, were the impediment why that god could not speak, And thereupon, julian presently caused the same body to be removed. And finally, hereof it proceeded, that in all sacrifices conjurations, and other mysteries of the Gentiles, there was brought in that phrase recorded by scoffing Lucian; Exeant Christiani; Let Christians departed: 
Lucian. in Al●x.  for that, while they were present, nothing could be well accomplished.  
Hence collect the force of a Christians presence; it extinguisheth the flame of a Pagan sacrifice. Zealous thoughts, fervent desires, devout affections will suffer no diabolical assault to surprise you. Christian constancy will so arm you; pious motions so inflame you; thoughts of heaven so transport you, contempt of the world so wean you; as no object of delight can draw you from contemplating him that made you. It will not be amiss, if now and then you reflect on the constancy and resolution of ancient Heathens, who so highly prized their honour, as it was their highest scorn to gi●● way to an injurious usurper.  
Camnia wife to Synattus survives to this day, as a Mirror of feminine constancy; whom one Synoris, a man of greater authority than he, loved; and making no small means to obtain her love, yet all in vain, he supposed the readiest way for the effecting his desires, to be the murdering of her husband: which he performed. This act of horror was no sooner executed, and by the robe of his authority shrouded, than he renewed his suit, to which she seemingly assented: but being solemnly come into the Temple of Diana, for celebrating those Nuptial rites, she had a sweet Potion ready, which she drank to Synoris: wherewith they were both poisoned, to revenge her husband's death. Chiomara, wife of Orgiagon, a petty king of that Province, upon discomfiture of the Gallo-Graecians, being ravished by a Roman Captain, gave a memorable example of Conjugal virtue; for she cut off the fellow's head from his shoulders, 
●● Flor. lib. 2. cap. 11.  and escaping from her guard, brought it to her Lord and husband. More than feminine was the resolution of Epicharia, a Libertine of Rome, who made privy to a conspiracy against Nero, to free her nat●ue mother of such a Monster, would not disclose the plotters thereof, though tormented with exquisitest tortures. near resemblance had Leëna's name with her Leonine nature, who being Conspirator against the Tyrant Hyppea●, and nothing aghast at the death of her friends▪ (though torn with extrememe torments) would not reveal her partners, but bit in sunder her own tongue, and spit it in the Tyrant's face. Or to instance you in subjects less Tragical, but for constancy every way equal.  
Armenia, a noble Lady, being bidden to King Cyrus' wedding, went thither with her husband. At night, when they were returned home, her husband asked her, how she liked the Bridegroom; whether she thought him to be a fair and beautiful Prince or no? Truth, says she, I know not: for all the while I was forth, I cast mine eyes upon none other, but thyself. An excellent Commandress was this Lady of her affections; and no less imitable was she, whom we are to instance next; for her modest and bashful covering of her husband's infirmities. One of Hiero's enemies reproaching him with a stinking breath; went home and questioned his wife, why she told him not thereof: who answered, She thought all men had the same savour.  
Without question, there is nothing that adds more true glory to a woman, or better preserves her esteem, than to retain a constancy in the quality or disposition of her estate. Be she young or old, let her fame live ever fresh; and like green Baye●, most flourishing, when the winter of adversity is most nipping. Virtue cannot exercise her own strength, nor express her own worth without an Opposite. Spices send forth the sweetest smell, when they are most bruised; and Palms spread the broadest, when they are soarest pressed. Resolution without an assailant, would, in time, become effeminate. Yet, I must tell you, it is dangerous to tempt either youth or age with motives of fancy, or to give least way to a promising opportunity. You shall find secret assacinates enough to undermine you, you need little to become your own betrayers.  
I have heard of a noble Lady in my time, whose descent and desert equally proclaim her worth, so tender of the esteem of her honour, as she held it scarce safe to receive any Letter from a great Personage, whose reputation was touched by rumour. This was the way to preserve her honour impregnably, and to rear it above the reach of Calumny. Neither are you to be cautelous only of your Estimation in subjects of love and affection; but even in your domestic affairs, which trench upon your providence or expense. Your discretions in these are brought to the Stage. Let not profuseness draw you to spend, where honest providence bids you spare; nor niggardliness cause you to spare, where reputation bids you spend. She deserves not to be governess of an house, who wants discretion to moderate her expense. Let her reflect upon her progeny, intent her charge, and provide for her family. A good wife is compared to a wise Merchant, who brings his traffic from a fare. Now, a wise Merchant will not have his Oar in every man's Boat, but will seriously address his care to his own. Busy women would make ill Skayles, and worse housewives; stragglers will never become good housekeepers.  
To close this branch: so compose your affections at home and abroad, as providence may express your care and charge in the one; a grave and reserved reverence preserve your esteem in the other. As your lives are lives of direction to yourselves, so should they be arguments of instruction unto others. Be you planted in what state soever, let your good report be your greatest stake for ever: so may you reap what your virtues have deserved, and keep your Estimation impregnably preserved.  
NOne can preserve what he love's, 
How Estimation may be irreparably lost.  by mixing it with the society of that he loathes. The ivy while it winds and wreathes itself about the Plant, with an envious consumption dec●yes the sap. If you be companions to Ostriches, you shall savour of the wilderness. Socrates' called Envy an imposthume of the soul: so may every corrupt affection be properly termed. Vices love neighbourhood, which like infectious maladies, do ever most hurt, when they draw nearest the heart.  
There is nothing (Gentlewomen) that brings your Honour to a more desperate hazard, then giving reines to your own desires. These must you subdue to the sovereignty of reason, if you expect rest in your inward mansion. What better fruits than ignominy may carnal liberty produce? When you make the Theatre your chiefest place of repose: fantastic gallants, who never yet conversed with virtue, your choicest consorts; delicious viands, servants to your liquorish appetites; what conclusion may we expect from such dangerous premises? when modesty puts off her veil, and vanity gins to ruffle it in sin; when chaste desires are chased out a breath; and lightness pleads prescription; when vermilion h'as laid so deep a colour on an impudent skin, as it cannot blush with sense of her own shame: when Estimation becomes a word of Compliment, or carelessly worn like some overcast raiment, valued as painted Pageants do guilded Puppets, only for show. What prodigy fuller of wonder, then to see a woman thus transformed from nature? Her face is not her own, note her complexion; her eye is not her own, note her strayed motion; her habit is not her own, eye her strange fashion. Whilst lose wears imply light works; and thin cobweb covers promise free admittance to all sensual lovers. Yea, which is more, she holds it no shame to glory in sin, nor to court vice in her own livery; all which she maintains to be compliments of gentility. Thus vice is ever in fashion, and keeps her gradation till she aspire to the height of her building. She gins with conceit, seconds it with consent, strengthens it with delight, and incorporates it with custom.  
One of this rank have I ofttimes observed tracing the streets of this flourishing City; who, as one weary of her sex, forbore not to unwoman herself, by assuming not only a virile habit, but a virago's heart. Quarrels she would not stick to bind upon any freshwater Soldier, whose late induction to the siege of Gallants, had not sufficiently informed him in that posture. Nothing desired she more than to ●iue affronts in public places, which she did with that contempt, as the disgrace she aspersed on others, was her sole content. Places of frequent were her Rendevon; where her imperious tongue run descant on every subject ministered; herself she usually engaged for a Second, upon least occasion offered. Now could these courses any way choose but cause that to be irreparably lost, which by any modest woman should be incomparably loved? Tell me, were not his spirit armou● of proof, who durst encounter with so courageous an Amazon? or enter nuptial lists with such a feminine Myrmidon? Surely, these, as they labour to purchase them opinion of esteem, by their unwomanly expressions of valour, so they eclipse their own fame, and by these irregular affronts, detract highly from their e●●entialst honour. Such may gain them observance, but never esteem.  
Take heed then, lest public rumour brand you, Scandal is more apt to disperse what is ill; then Opinion is to retain what is good. When the world is once postest of your shame; many deserving actions of piety can hardly wipe off that stain. Esau's birthright was temporal, yet once lost, many tears could not regain it; your soul's honour is a birthright spiritual, which once lost, many tedious tasks shall not redeem it. Let your ●st●mation be by you so tenderly loved, as you will rather choose to loath life, then irreparably lose that, which is the sweetest Consort of humane life.  
THere is nothing which works not for some ●nd, wherein it may rest and repose. Long before that glorious Light we now enjoy, 
The absolute 〈◊〉 whereto Estimation aspires, and wherein it cheerfully rests.  did the very Heathens, who had no knowledge of a future being, rejoice highly in the practice of Moral virtues, and performing such commendable offices as might purchase them deserved honour, living; and eternally memorise them dying.  
This might be illustrated by s●uerall instances in Maids, Wives, and Widows. For the first; tho●e Locrian Virgin, deserve our memory; whose custom it was, yearly to be sent to Troy: which 〈◊〉 continued for the space of a thousand years; yet was it never heard, that any of those Virgins were ever deslowred. Who can likewise pass over in silence those seven Milesian Virgins; who, at such time as the Gauls raved and raged every where, subiecting all to fire and faggot, deprived themselves of life, lest hostile force should deprive them of their honour? With what praises also may we worthily advance those daughters of Scedasus of Leuctra, a Town situate in the Region of Boectia; who having in their father's absence, hospitably received two young men, by whom, made drunk with wine, they were that night deflowered: conceiving a mutual sorrow for their lost Virginity, became resolute actors in their own Tragedy. Aristomenes of Messana; when in those public feasts called Hyacinthia, he had surprised fifteen Virgins with the soldiers which attempted their dishonour, straightly commanding them to forbear from using any such violence: whose Command when they refused to obey, he caused them to be slain: redeeming those Virgins with ● huge sum of gold. Afterwards, these Virgins hearing that this Aristomenes was accused about the death of one of those men, whom he had commanded to be slain; they would not return into their own native Country, till such time, as prostrating themselves before the feet of the judge, with their prayers and tears, they had delivered from bonds the defender of their honour.  
Yea, 
An English Amazon.  to draw nearer home, and instance this Maiden-constancy in one of our own; I have heard of a notable spirited birle, within the walls of this City; who, albeit she frequented places of public Concourse boldly, discoursed freely, expressed herself in all assays forwardly; yet so tender was she of preserving her honour, that being on a time suited by a young Caveliero, who was so taken with the height of her spirit, wherewith she was endowed, as he preferred it before the beauty of an amorous face, wherewith she was but meanly enriched, She presently apprehending the looseness of his desires, seemingly condescended; so she might be furnished and appointed, and the business with that secrecy carried, as no occasion of suspicion might be probably gounded. This answer cheered our young Gallant; winged with hope to enjoy, what his wild desires did so much affect. A Coach is provided; all things prepared; the very place appointed where they shall meet, to hasten their light journey; which, for more privacy, must be the Country. Time and place they observed; but before she would mount her Coach, calling him aside, she tells him, how she had vowed never to consent to any man in that kind, till she had first tried his mettle in the field. Draw he must, or she will disgrace him; in which combat, instead of a more amorous Conflict, she disarmed him, and with a kick, wished him ever after to be more wary how he attempted a Maiden's honour.  
For the second, excellent was the answer of those Lacedaemonian wives; who being immodestly suited, made this reply: Surely, we should give way to your request, but this you 〈◊〉 for is not in our power to gra●●: for when we were Maids, we were to be disposed of by our parents; and now bring wi●es, by our husbands. At such time as the Inhabitants of Tyre came to Lacede●●●; suspecting them to be Spies, they threw them into prison; whose wives, having got leave to visit and comfort them in their captivity, changed garments with them, and according to their Country's guise, vailed their faces, by which means the men escaped, 
Plutarch.  leaving their wives restrained: which deeply perplexed all the Lacedæmonians. No less conjugal love showed Alcesta to her 〈…〉 to her Prot●esilaus; Pant●ia to her Susi●●; Arte●i●●a to her Mausolus; Zenobia to her Oedenat●●.  
These were good wives, which 〈◊〉 calls the highest grounds of humane felicity. Nothing being more amiable than an honest woman, saith Theog●i●; nothing conferring more joy to man, saith sententious Xistus.  
For the third, what singular mirrors of vidual continency, and matron-like modesty were Cornelia, Vetruria, Livia, and that most Christian widow Salui●a, to whom S. Hierom directed many sweet and comfortable Epistles. These you might have sound attired in grave funeral garments, (as memorials of their deceased husbands) of modest behaviour, reverend presence, publishing to the world a contempt of the world, in their outward appearance.  
Now, what may you suppose did those Pagan Ladies hold to be the absolute end, whereto this tender care of their Estimation chief aspired, and wherein it cheerfully rested? It was not riches, nor any such temporal respect: for these they contemned, so their honour might be preserved. No; there was implanted in them an innate desire of Moral goodness; mixed with an honest ambition, so to advance their esteem during life, that they might become examples unto others of a good Moral life, and perpetuate their memories after death.  
Your ambition (Ladies) must mount higher, because your Conversation is heavenlier. It is immortality you aspire to; a lower Orb cannot hold you; nothing else may confine you. Be it then your highest Estimation to honour him, who is the b●rne of your salvation. Let not a moment of 〈◊〉 vanity, deprive you of the hope of eternity. Your voyage is short; your hazard great. Many 〈◊〉 encounter you in the way; address your 〈◊〉 therefore in the way, to some good work. Let Patience teach you how to suffer, Devotion sweeten your encounter, Estimation crown you with succeeding honour.   

THE ENGLISH Gentlewoman.  
Argument.  
Fancy is to be with Deliberation grounded; with Constancy retained; Wanton Fancy is a wand'ring frenzy; How it may be checked, if too wild; How cheered, if too cool; An attemperament of both.  
FANCY. 
FANCY.   
FANCY is an affection privily received in by the eye, 
Obseruat. 6.  and speedily conveyed to the heart. The Eye is the harbinger, but the heart is the harbourer. 
Fancy is to be with deliberation grounded.  Love's conceived at first sight, seldom lasts long. Deliberatim must lead it, or else it is misguided. Look before you like, is a good rule; but to like at first Look makes an house of misrule. Is he of handsome personage whom you love? His proportion is a moving Object to your eye, but his pertion (it may be) will not agree with your state. Again, admit he have both these; proportion to purchase your esteem, and portion to maintain your estate: his breast is not transparent; his disposition may be crookod; and that will cast down all that was before affected. Them●stocles being demanded by a Nobleman of Gr●ece, whether he had rather marry his daughter to one rich and evil, or one poor and good; made this answer: I had rather ●aue a man without money, than money without a man. Whence it was, that Portia, the younger daughter of Portius Cato, being asked when she would betake herself to an husband, replied; When I find one that seeks me, not mine.  
Witty was that young Gentlewoman's answer to an inconsiderate Suitor: who with much instancy solicited the father for the affection of his daughter; whereto having at last consented; and the Covenants of marriage concluded: this indiscreet wooer unseasonably imparts his mind to the daughter; who made strange with it, saying, She never heard of any such matter: Yea but, replied he, I have made your father herewith acquainted, and he hath already consented; and you may marry him too, answered she, for you must hold me excused.  
There is no time that exacts more modesty of any woman, than in her time of suiting; a shamefast red than best commends her, and the movingst Orator that speaks for her. So as Virgil, the very Prince of our Latin Poets, when he should bring in King Lati●us privately conferring with his wife Ama●a, and T●r●us, to whom in nuptial bands he was to espouse his daughter: he brings in the young maid weeping, blushing, and silent. Whence is employed, that it becomes not a Maid to speak of marriage in her parent's presence, for that were small argument of modesty or shamefastness. There is a pretty pleasing kind of wooing drawn from a conceived but concealed Fancy; which, in my opinion, suits well with these amorous younglins: they could wish with all their hearts to be ever in the presence of those they love, so they might not be seen by those they love. Might they choose, they would converse with them freely, con●ort with them friendly, and impart their truest thoughts fully, yet would they not have their bashful loves find discovery. They would be seen, yet seem obscured; love, but not disclose it; see whom they love, but not be eyed. This the Poet in the person of a Shepherdess neatly displayeth: 
Phillis to willows, like a cunning flyer,  
Flye●, yet she fears her Shepherd should not spy her.   
Now in this Subject of Fancy, as there is nothing more dangerous than entertaining it without due and deliberate advice: so there is nothing grows more generally fatal to the indiscreet Lover, than by grounding affection on outward respects, without relation to that inward fair, which only makes the Object of Fancy full of beauty, and presents every day as a Marriage-day to the party. Neither affluence of estate, potency of friends, nor highness of descent can attemper the grief of a loathed bed. These may play upon the Fantasy, but never give satisfaction to the Fancy. Wherefore (Gentlewomen) to the end you may show yourselves discreetest in that, which requires your discretion most, discuss with yourselves the purity of love, the quality of your lover; ever reflecting on those best deserving endowments of his, which either make him worthy or unworthy your love. Affection, though it enter in by the narrow cranny of the Eye, it shoots at the heart; which, unless it be seasoned by judgement, it can not deserve so fair a title. A discreet eye will not be taken with a smooth skin; it is not the rind but the mind that is her Adamant.  
Iustin● a Roman Maid, no less nobly descended, than notably accomplished, being married to one more rich than wise, exclaimed against her fate, that folly should hale her to so loathed a bed. And good reason had she to repine, when his groundless jealousy made her a tragic spectacle of misery before her time. For seeing her white neck, that object begot in him presently an argument of suspect, which he seconded with revenge, to vent the fury of his nature, and publish to the world the weakness of his temper. Let deliberation then be the Scale, wherein you may weigh Love in an equal poise. There be many high and consequent Circumstances, which a discreet woman will not only discourse but discuss, before she entertain so mysterious and honourable estate. Disparity in descent, fortunes, friends, with other like respects, many times beget distraction of minds. Whence it was, that Pittacus of Muylene, being entreated by a young man, to afford him his best advice, in the Choice of two wives tendered him, whether he should marry; the one whereof was equa●l to himself both in birth and wealth; the other surpassing him in both; Wished him to go along the streets of the City, where children use to play, and there observe what they did advice him. Truth is, inequality in these, procures distaste; but where there is a difference in the seazure or disposure of the heart, (which should be the firmest and strongest Cement to unite affection) there ariseth the greatest hazard. Thence is it, Suspicion works upon ●uery light and frivolous subject; while the other party hunts after opportunity, to surfeit on forbidden fruit, and give her suspitio●s Mate just ground of jealousy. Feed he may his indigested humour in a jealous pasture, and vow revenge when he shall find an apt subject, mean time he becomes invisibly gulled, while he deludes himself with painted shadows, 
— No jealousy can ever that prevent  
Whereas two parties once be full content.   
Several, 
Hieron. cont▪ Ruffia.  I know, are the effects of love, as are the dispositions of those that love. Livia made quick dispatch of her husband, because she loved him too little: Lucilia of hers, because she loved him too much. Phoedra fancied Theseus less than she should, but young Hippolytus more than he would▪ Which effects are usually produced, when either disparity of years breed dislike; or obscurity of descent begets contempt; or inequality of fortunes, discontent. Deliberate then before you marry, and thus expostulate with yourselves touching his Condition, whom you are to marry. Is he young? I will bear with his youth, till better experience bring him to the knowledge of man. My usage shall be more easy, than to wean him from what he affects, by extremity. Youth will have his swinge; his own discretion will bring him home; at least, time will reclaim him; he shall not find me put on a cloudy brow, or entertain his freer course with a scowl. I must conform myself to him, confirm my love in him, and so demean me towards him, that Conjugal duty mixed with all affability may win him.  
Again, is he old? His age shall beget in me more reverence; his words shall be as so many aged and time-improved precepts to inform me; his actions as so many directions to guide me; his rebukes as so many friendly admonitions to reclaim me; his bed I will honour, no unchaste thought shall defile it; his Counsel I will keep, no foreign breast shall partake it. I will be a staff to him in his age, to support him; an eye to direct him; an hand to help him; his Substance I will not scatter on a youthful Lover: but serve him still, whom I have vowed to honour.  
Again, is he rich? Much good may it do him; this shall not make me proud; my desire shall be, he may employ it for his best advantage; I will move him to communicate unto the needy, that his riches may make him truly happy. It is a miserable state that starves the owner. I will persuade him to enjoy his own, and so avoid baseness; to reserve a provident care for his own, and shun profuseness.  
Again, is he poor? His poverty shall make me rich; there is no want, where there wants no content. This I shall enjoy in him, and with him; which the world could not afford me, lived I without him. It hath been an old Maxim; that as poverty goes in at one door, love goes out at the other; but this rule shall never direct my thoughts; should poverty enthrall me, it shall never appall me; my affection shall counterpoise all affliction: No adversity can d●uide me from him, to whom my vowed faith hath individually tied me. In a word, is he wise? He shall be my Thales. Is he foolish? I will by all means cover his weakness: as I am now made one with him, so will I have mine equal share in any aspersion that shall be thrown on him.  
Thus if you expostulate, your Christian constant resolves shall make you truly fortunate. Your Fancy is on deliberation grounded; which promiseth such success, as your Marriage-dayes shall never fear the bitter encounter of untimely repentance, nor the cureless anguish of an afflicted Conscience.  
THe selfsame rule which Augustus was said to observe in his choice and constant retention of friends, 
Fancy is to be with constancy retained.  are you, Gentlewomen, to apply to yourselves in the choice of your second-selues. He was slow in entertaining, but most constant in retaining. Favourites are not to be worn like favours: now in your hat, or about your wrist, and presently out of request. Which to prevent, entertain none to lodge near your heart, that may harbour in his breast ought worthy your hate. Those two Mottoes I would have you incessantly to remember; for the useful application of them may highly conduce to your honour. The one is that of Caia Tranquilla, which she ever used to her royal Spouse Caius Tarqvinius Priscus; Where th●● art Caius, I am Caia. The other, that of Ruth unto Naomi; Wither thou goest, I will go; and where thou dwellest, I will dwell.  
There is no greater argument of lightness, then to affect the acquaintance of strangers, and to entertain variety of Suitors. These, as they distract the eye, so they infect the heart. Constant you cannot be where you profess, so long as you affect change. Vows deliberately advised, and religiously grounded, are not to be dispensed with. But say, you never vowed: have you made outward professions of love, and entertained a good opinion of that object in your heart? Again, are you resolved, that his affection is real towards you? That his protests, though delivered by his mouth, are engraven in his heart? Let not so much good love be lost; insult not over him, whom unfeigned affection hath vowed your seruan. 
Let Wolves and beasts be cruel in their kinds,  
But Women meek, and have relenting minds.   
It were too much incredulity in you to distrust, where you never found just cause of distaste, Yea, but you will again object; we are already by your own Observations sn●ficiently instructed, that Fancy is to be with deliberation grounded, that love lightly laid on, lasts not long. Should we then affect before we find ground of respect? Should we entertain a Rhetorical Lover, whose protests are formal Compliments, and whose promises are gilded pills, which cover much bitterness? No, I would not have you so credulous, lest your Nuptial day become ominous. Make true trial and experiment of his Constancy, who tenders his service to you. Sift him, if you can find any bran in him. Task him, before you take him. Yet let these be sweetly tempered with lenity; Let them not be Tasks of insuperable difficulty. This were to tyrannize, where you should love. This was Ompha●es fault, to make her faithful servant, a servile slave. Alas! shall he far the worse because he love's you? This would induce others, who take notice of your cruelty, to loathe you. And make your discarded lover, surprised with an amorous distemper, to reply, as Absal●m to Hushai, Is this thy kindness to thy friend? My counsel is, that, as it will be useful for you to deliberate, before you take so much as the least Notions of an affectionate Servant; yea, and to second that deliberation with some probable proof or trial, that he is truly constant: so it will be a grateful office in you, to retain him in your favour with a gracious respect; to countenance the improvement of his constancy with a cheerful and amiable aspect: to banish all clouds of seeming discontent, and to give him some modest expressions of the increase of your good Conceit towards him. Let this be done, till Hymen make you individually one. Then, and never till then, may Love enjoy her full freedom. She stands privileged by a sacred rite to taste that fruit, which before was forbidden. Mutual respects, like so many diametral lines, pointing all to one Centre, are then directed to one exquisite object; the purity of love; which produceth this admirable effect: it makes one soul rule two hearts, and one heart dwell in two bodies. Now, I would have you, when your desires are drawn to this period; to become so taken with the love of your choice, as to interpret whatsoever he shall do, ever to the best sense. It were little enough that you retained a good opinion of him, who stands in so many several engagements obliged for you. Should your riot bring him into debt; his restraint must make you free. Durance must be his suit, while better stuff makes you a Coat. Yea, what Conscience is there in it, but he should receive an affable and amiable respect from you; seeing, if your Conscience be no Conformalist, he must pay for you?  
These respects should perpetually tie you, to honour him, who becomes so legally tied for you. Requite these then with constancy, and retain this ensuing Example ever in your memory. Theogena, wife to Agathocles, showed admirable constancy in her husband's greatest misery, showing herself most his own, when he was relinquished and forsaken of his own; clozing her resolution with this noble Conclusion: She had not only betaken herself to be his Companion in prosperity, but in all fortunes that should befall him.  
Conform yourselves to this Mirror, and it will reform in you many a dangerous errors. Thus if you live, thus if you love: honour cannot choose but accompany you living, much comfort attend you loving, and a virtuous memory embalm you dying.  
Wanton Love seldom or never promiseth good success; 
Wanton Fancy is a wand'ring frenzy.  the effect cannot be good, when the object is ●ll. Sense must be the blind lantern to guide her, while she rambles in the street: for Reason, she leaves her sleeping with the Constable. What devices she hath to purchase her a moment of penitential pleasure? Her eye looks, and by it the sense of her mind is averted; her ear hears, and by it the intention of her heart is perverted; her smell breathes, and by it her thoughts are hindered; her mouth speaks, and by it others are deceived; by touch, her heat of desire upon every small occasion is stirred. Never raged Alcides on Mount Oeta, nor O●lando for his Angelica, more than these Utopian lovers, for their imaginary shadows. There is a kind of Spider bred in Pul●a, called Tarandula, which being of a divers nature, causeth divers effects; some to dance, some to sing, others to weep, or watch, or sweat. The soveraignest cure it admits of, is Music; while the Patient by dancing, or some other vehement exercise of that sort, expulseth the poison, & gives passage to his pores of respiration. Many like Creatur●s there be of a malignant nature, but none comparable to a distempered Lover.  
Now, that we may use the method of Art; to cure the effect, is to take away the cause: my purpose shall be first to discover those incendiaries or foments of this inordinate passion, or intoxicating poison; secondly, the effects arising from them; lastly, the cure or remedy of them.  
For the first, we may very properly reduce the prime grounds of this wanton fancy, or wand'ring frenzy to a Catalogue included in these two verses: 
1 Sloth, 2 Words, 3 Books, 4 Eyes, 5 Consorts, & 6 luscious fare,  
The Lures of lust, and sta●nes of honour are,   
On every of which particular to insist, would enlarge this branch too much; we will only point at them and so leave them. For the first, sententious Seneca saith, he had rather endure the utmost of fortune's extremity, than subject himself to Sloth or Sensuality. For it is this only, which maketh of men, women; of women, beasts; of beasts, monsters. This then is to be shunned, if the reward of virtue be to be shared. Secondly, Words corrupt the disposition; they set an edge or gloss on depraved Liberty: making that member offend most, when it should be employed in profiting most. The tongue is more effectual than any Letter; let it be then so ●mployed, as it may improve the hearer. Thirdly, Books treating of light subjects, are Nurseries of wantonness: they instruct the lose Reader to become naught, whereas before, touching naughtiness he knew naught. A story of the rape of Ganymedes, or of light Lais in Eurypedes, are their daily Lectures. Plato's Divine Philosophy, or 〈◊〉 pious Precepts Morality, must va●le to Alcaeus, or Anacreon's wanton Poesy. Venus and Adon●s are unfitting Consorts for a Lady's bosom. Remove them timely from you, if they ever had entertainment by you left, like the Snake in the fable, they annoy you. Fourthly, Eyes are those Windows by which 〈◊〉 enters; your inward house cannot shine, 〈◊〉 these be shut; Objects they have of more beauty to take them, than these sights of vanity, which miserably tain● them. Eve looked on the fruit before she co●●ted, coveting she tasted, tasting she perished. Thus aspiring to the knowledge of good and evil, became to her and her posterity evil. The Eye is a Living glass, but if we make it a false glass, it will neither represent us truly, nor discover our blemishes freely; but make that seem fair which is odious and ugly. By this means, many good objects become Eye-soares unto us, which, if clearly viewed, would like a sovereign Eye-bright, restore sight unto us. Fifthly, Consorts are thiefs of time, they will rob you of opportunity, the best treasure time can afford you, if you suffer them to encroach on you and abuse you. Choose such then for your Consorts, of whom you may have assured hope, that they will either better you, or be bettered by you. Choose such, whom you may admire both when you see them and hear them: when you see their living Doctrine, and hear their wholesome instruction. Lastly, Luscious fare is the fuel of every inordinate concupiscence. Nothing so much feeds it, nor insensates the understanding by delighting in it. By restraint of this, you shall learn to moderate your desires. Whence you may rejoice, yet in him, who is your joy, if you can live sparingly, and embrace the means that may chastise in you all sensuality: for by your spare life is lust extinguished, virtue nourished, the mind strengthened, the understanding to heavenly things raised. Yea, abstinence availeth much for preserving health of body and length of life. Whence it is said: He that di●teth himself, prolongeth life. 
Eccles. 37. 30.  Which the profound Stagirian confirms in these words: To abstain from riot and superfluity, is the soueraign'st prescription or physic for the body. 
Arist dereg. Princ.   
Now to descend to the second branch of our division in this Observation; we might here enumerate those many odious and inhuman effects, which have and do daily arise from the violence of this Wanton fancy or Wand'ring frenzy; and what tragic events it hath in all times produced: but they would seem relations too full of horror to your modest and timorous Natures. Only let me tell you, if you desire to be satisfied in subjects of that kind, our Italian Stories will afford you variety: Where indiscreet Love clozeth her doleful Scene with so miserable an Exit, as no Pencil can express any picture to more life, than an historical line hath drawn out the web of their miseries. So as, that ancient Adage might seem verified: That from slaves and miserable people God hath taken away the one half of their understanding.  
Now to cure this desperate malady (though to you the cure, I hope, be needless, being free from all such violent distempers;) the best and soveraignst receipt is to fortify the weakness of your sex with strength of resolution; that, with incessant devotion. Be not too liberal in the bestowing of your favours; nor too familiar in public converse. Presume not too much on the strength of a weak Fort. Make a Contract with your eyes not to wander abroad, lest they be catched in coming home. Treat not of love too freely; play not wags with the blind boy; he has a dangerous aim, though he hath no eyes. Sport not with him, that may hurt you; play not with him, that would play on you. Your Sports will turn to an ill jest, when you are wounded in earnest: the Fly may be then your Emblem: 
So long the foolish Fly plays with the flame,  
Till her light wings are cinged in the same.   
Fly to an higher Sphere: you are yet untouched; this wand'ring frenzy hath never yet surprised you; prevent the means, and it shall never invade you. Be not such foes to yourselves, as to purchase your own disquiet. Examples you have of all sorts, both to allure and deter you. Pure love admits no stain. Such a fancy is never 〈◊〉 to a f●e●zy. If ever then you entertain any ●oue, let it 〈…〉 it a virtuous solace; for all others, howsoever they may seen to premise s●me perfunctory delight, they ever cast up their last account with repentance.  
WHen a man bleeds at the nose, and thro●g● aburdance of blood is brought danger of his life, 
How Fancy may be checked, if too w●●de.  the 〈…〉 the course of the b●ood a● ot●er way. If 〈…〉 in too violent a 〈◊〉, it is to be ●ooled by a temperate expostulation with Fancy: or e●se by fixing 〈…〉 upon some more attracti●e object, divert the course of that 〈◊〉 passion. Expostulate with Fancy, thus you may, safely & freely How is it with me? Me thinks, it fares otherwise than it hath done formerly. A strange distemper I find in my mind; and it might seem to resemble ●oue, if I knew the nature of it. Love! Can virgin-modesty return that accent, and not bl●sh? Yes; why not? If the Object I affect be worthy loving. And if not, what then? Is not the l●uer ever blind●● with a●●fection towards his beloved? He, who may seem a 〈◊〉 to another, may be a Par●s in 〈…〉 Were he poor as 〈◊〉, Fancy makes 〈◊〉, dearer to me, than the wea●● of Cr●●u●. Yea, but a little advice would do well. Art thou perseaded that this Non-pa●a●e●, thou thus affectest, hath dedicated his service only to thee? Yes; his protests have confirmed him mine. Besides, his continual presence seconds what he protests: That hour is tedious, wherein he sees me not; those pleasures odious, which my presence accompanies not. His eye is ever fixed on me; his sole discourse is to me. What I affect he embraceth with delight; what I dis-rellish, he entertains with distaste.  
These, I must confess, (Gentlewoman) are promising arguments of unfeigned love: yet may all these ●rre, and consequently leave you in a miserable Error. Your True-love may prove a jason or a Theseus, and leave you in the briers for all your confidence. You say, his Protests have confirmed him yours; he hath attested heaven to bear record of his love. Alas of Credulity! Take heed he play not the part of that ridiculous Actor in Smyr●a, who pronouncing, O heaven! pointed with his finger to the ground. Or like that nameless Lover, who soliciting a Gentlewoman's affection with abundance of amorous Rhetoric, concluded with this Emphatical protest; that she was the only Mistress of his thoughts: which conclusion being overheard by one to whom not long before upon like protests he had engaged his faith; she replied, Do not believe him, Gentlewoman; the selfsame Arbour where you now are, might witness that he hath made the very like protests unto me, many times before.  
Trials in affairs of this nature have ever a truer touch than protests. It is easy for beauty to extort a vow, or a temporary protest; which many times is as soon forgot as made. Let not these then work on your Credulity.  
There be, I know (and so all be that are truly generous) who, rather than they would infringe their ●aith, would engage their life. But all are not of that noble temper. O●hers there be, who can tip their glozing tongues with Rhetorical protests, purposely to gull a credulous Creature, for the purchase of an unlawful pleasure; which obtained, they leave them to bemoan their lost honour. With more safety therefore may you suspect, than too rashly affect. It will not be amiss for you to read him, before you choose him. As thus; Hath his fair carriage got him estimation where he life's? Hath he never enured his tongue to play Hypocrite with his heart; nor made Ceremonial protests to purchase a light Mistress? Hath he kept a fair quarter, and been ever tender of his untainted honour? Hath he never boasted of young Gentlewoman's favours, nor run descant on their kindness? Hath he kept himself on even board with all the world, and preserved his patrimony from engagement? Hath he ever since he vowed himself your servant, solely devoted himself yours, and not immixed his affection with foreign beauties? Choose him, he well deserves your choice; in which choice, let this be your impreze; My choice admits no change.  
To be short; the blessing which Boaz pronounced upon Ruth, shall like a honey-dew distil daily from the lips of your husband. Blessed be thou of the Lord, my Spouse; thou hast showed more goodness in the latter end, than at thy beginning, in as much as thou followest not young men, were they poor or rich. Contrariwise, where you find no such demeriting respects in him, who makes love unto you; Check your wild Fancy by time, lest a remediless Check attend your Choice.  
Covertly knew that unfortunate Lady how to paint out her grief, the extent whereof her tongue-tied passion could not relate; When like a fruitful vine, she had brought forth many fair and promising branches to a debauched husband, by whose profuser course, her hopes which she had stored in her numerous progeny, perished, and herself through grief irrecoverably wasted; she wrote these pensive lines with a Diamond in her Chamber Window, to give a living shadow to her lasting sorrow. 
Up to the Window sprung the spreading Vine,  
The dangling Apricocke, and Eglantine;  
Since when, that vine and branches too were found  
Shred from their root, laid sprawling on the ground.   
It is not so hard to give comfortable counsel to the sorrowful, as to find a fit season when to give it. I would have you, whose more noble parts promise much comfort to your families, give such attention to seasonable counsel, as you may prevent all ensuing occasions of sorrow. It is the condition of an inconsiderate person, who never foresees his fall, to close the issue of his misfortunes with this improvident conclusion; 
Sen. de Tranq. an.  I would never have thought that this should have thus come to pass; I never dreamed of this Event. It will be more useful and beneficial to you, to check your wild Fancy, if any such seize upon you, than to give way unto it, and consequently undo you. Repentance comes too late at Marriage-night. Affairs of such weight and consequence are not to be entertained without due advice, nor seconded with rashness. In one word; have you played a little too long with the flame? Have you given too free access to your desertless lover? Have you suffered your heart not only to think of him, but with more intimate respect to harbour him? Lodge him no longer in that room; it deserves a fare better guest. I will not hear you, if you reply, and say; This is a Task of impossibility. Continuance of time, with discontinuance of his presence, will easily effect it. Mean time, fix your eye upon some more deserving object. Revenge yourself of that Conceit, that shall affresh present him to you. So shall the wildness of your Fancy be checked; your halfe-lost liberty regained; and your affection afterwards planted, where it may be better acquitted; there seated, where it may be more sweetly seasoned.  
THere be Haggards of that wild Nature, 
How Fancy may be cheered if too cold.  as they will by no means be reclaimed; Neither Love nor fear will cause them stoop to any Lure. Emblems these are to such wayward Girls, whose inflexible natures will neither be wooed nor won at any rate. These had rather dye for love, than be deemed to love. Their hearts are smeered over with Salamander's oil, and will admit no heat. They may entertain Suitors, but it is with that coldness of affection, as the longer they resort, the lesser is their hope. They may boast more of the multiplicity of their Suitors, than their Suitors can of any probability to be speeders. As it chanced sometime in a Contest betwixt two Maids, who comparing one with the other their descents, friends, and Suitors: Make no comparison with me, replied the one to the other, for I must tell thee, I have more Suitors than thou hast friends, More shameless you (answered the other) unless you mean to set up an house of good fellowship. These unsociable Natures, who many times defer making their choice, till age bring them to contempt, and excludes them from all choice, Or Danaë-like, live immured in their Chamber, till their Fort be undermined by some golden Pioneer; detract much from the relenting disposition of their Sex. It is their honour to be wooed & won. To be discreet in their choice, and to entertain their choice without Change. Of such I speak, who have not dedicated their days to Virginity; which is such a Condition, as it aspires to an Angelical perfection. Good, (saith venerable Bede) is conjugal chastity, better is vidual continency, but best is the perfection of Virginity. Yea, Virginity exceeds the condition of humane nature, being that, by which man resembles an Angelical Creature. We read likewise, that the Unicorn, when he can be taken by no force nor subtle Engine, will rest and repose in the Lap of a Virgin.  
To those only I direct my discourse, who have a mind to take themselves unto the world, and to entertain their Lover: but it is with such coolness, as it drives their dispassionate Sweetheart into strange extremes. And this proceeds commonly from an overweening Conceit, which these dainty Damsels have of their own worth: with the apprehension whereof they become so infinitely taken, as they can find none worthy their choice. Of this disdainful opinion was that unhappy Gentlewoman, who after many fair fortunes tendered, Suitors of deserving quality rejected, made her incestuous brother her licentious lover.  
A crime detestable even to Barbarians and bruit beasts. Insomuch as, it is reported of the Camel, that they usually hoodwink him, when at any time they bring his mother unto him; which act he no sooner knows, than he tramples her under his feet, and kicks her to death with his heels; so hateful is Incest even to bruit beasts, whose native instinct abhors such obscene commi●tures. You, whose discreet affections have cast anchor, by making choice of some deserving Lover; afflict him not with needless delays; if he merit your choice, one day is too long to defer him; if undeserving, tax your own indiscretion to rashly to entertain him.  
Is it bashful modesty that withholds you? I commend it; it well becomes you. Chastity cannot express itself in a fairer Character, than in blushing lines of loving shame fastness. Is it consent of friends that detains you? I approve that too; These rites are best accomplished, when they are with consent and consort of friends solemnised. But if the ground of your delay trench either upon some future expectance of better fortunes; or indifferency of affection in respect of your Choice: the issue cannot possibly prove well, being built upon such weak grounds. For, to insist cursorily upon either of these two; Shall a deceiving hope of preferment dispossess him of your heart, whom personal deserts make worthy of your love? Look to it; Such fortunes cannot purchase you content, which are got with an aged husband's contempt. It shows a servile nature, to cashier a faithful Lover, because he is poorer; and to prefer another less desertful, because he is richer. This inconstancy cannot succeed well, because the foundation is grounded ill.  
Again, are you indifferent or Lukewarm in affection; in respect of your choice? for shames sake, what do you make of love? Do you use it like a toy or tire to put off or on as you like? Must it resemble the fashion? This day in request, and next day out of date? This, indeed, is such a cool and easie-tempered Love, as it will never mad you; yet, trust me, it may well delude you. Fancy will not so be played with. You will object, I imagine, your stomaches are too queasy to digest Love.. Why then did you ever seem so greedily to feed on that, which your stomaches now cannot well digest? Have you surfeited on the substance? Lay that aside for a while, and bestow your eye on the Picture. Such impressions have sharpened the dull affections of many Lovers.  
Alexander being much in love with Apelles, as one highly rapt with the exquisiteness of his art, proposed him that Model for a task, which he of all others, affected most; commanding him on a time to paint Campaspe, a beautiful woman, naked; which Apelles having done, such impression wrought the Picture in his affection, as Apelles fell in love with her, which Alexander perceiving, gave him her. It is incredible, what rare effects were sometimes drawn from a Morian-Picture, being only hung up in a Lady's Chamber. If such impressive motives of affection draw life from a Picture, what may be conceived by the Substance? Oris Apollo writeth, that the Egyptians, when they would describe the heart, & fit her with a proper Emblem, paint the bird Ibis: because they think that no Creature, for proportion of the body, hath so great an heart as the Ibis hath.  
It is the Bird of love must be the Emblem of your heart. It is neither picture nor posture can content her. Much less these inferior pictures, which we call monies: which are so fare from satisfying the affection, as they are only for the Mould or Worldling: whose grosser thoughts never yet aspired to the knowledge of love's definition. As then, the precious stone Diacletes, though it have many rare and excellent sovereignties in it, yet it loseth them all, if it be put in a dead man's mouth: so Love, though it be a subject so pure, as none of a more refined nature; so firm●, as none of a more holding temper; so hot, as none of a more lasting fervour: yet becomes her splendour darkened, her vigour weakened, her fervour cooled, when she is in a cold breast entertained. Resemble, rather, the juniper-tree, whose coal is the hottest, and whose shadow is the coolest: be hot in your affection, but cool in your passion. If you find any thing which cooleth love in you, remove it; if any thing which urgeth passion, quench it: contrariwise, feed in you love's heat; but repress in you all passionate hate. Take into your more serious thoughts, a view of his deserts whom you affect: increase the conceit of them by supposing more than he expresseth. The imagination of Love is strong, and works admirable effects in a willing subject. Yet in all this, let not one strayed thought wrong your Mayden-modesty so much, as to suggest to you a strain of lightness: Other Closet-treaties you may entertain safely and freely, without touch of modesty. As to think of the honour of that State, to which you are approaching; the mutual Comfort from that mysterious union arising; how griefs will be attempered by one another's suffering; how joys will be augmented by one another's sharing. These thoughts cannot but well become you; nor otherwise choose than with a pure affection inflame you; nor receive less than free acceptance from you.  
Thus may that Love, which seemed before to have been as chilled, by these modest motives be cheered. That day no black Cloud should by right sit on your fair brow; no cold damp seize on your heart. You have got one whom a sacred gage hath made yours; with a cheerful requital render yourself his. This cannot choose but highly please the pure eye of heaven, to see that Mystery so sweetly solemnised, which was honoured by Christ, with his first Miracle on Earth.  
IN this last branch of our Observation, 
An attemperament of both.  we are to propose an attemperament of both those indisposed Fancies before mentioned, and deservedly taxed. First, the wildness of the one; secondly, the coolness of the other: by seasoning them both with an indifferent temper▪  
In a Vine, wild and luxurious branches are to be pruned, that such as are free and kindly may be better cherished. In the spiritual field of your heart, is never to be expected any fruitful increase of virtues, till there be weeded out of it all the thorns of vices. The difference betwixt a Wise and wild Love, is this: the one ever deliberates before it love; the other love's before it deliberate. The first question that she asks, who wisely love's: Is he, who is here recommended to my choice, of good repute? Is he rich in the endowments of his mind? Next question she asks, are of a lower siege: May his personage give content? Are his fortunes such, as may not beget in love a contempt? Thus begins she that love's wisely, with goods inward, and ends with outward; whereas, she that love's wildly, begins with outward, and ends, or else never remembers the inward: Is he, you tender to me, of promising personage? Is he neat in his clothes? Complete in his dress? Can he Court me in good words? and perfume them with sweet protests? Can he usher me gracefully in the street? and in his very pace express a reserved state? Next question she asks, must be near the same verge: Is he rich in Manors? Hath not fortune made him a younger brother? Can he, to buy himself honour, pawn the Long-acre? May his swelling means furnish me of Coach, Caroche, and daily fit me for some Exchange trifles? I have a month's mind to see the man! He cannot but deserve my love. Wherein she says well, for in very deed he could deserve little else. Now as the former, seldom bestows herself, but where she finds content; so the latter, seldom or never, but either she with her Choice, or her Choice with her falls into contempt. The reason is, this wild Girl never cares for more than to be married. If she may but see that day, it accomplisheth her content: though she have but one Comical day all her life. Yea, it is as well as can be expected from her hands, if she attain that style without some apparent soil. Such as these I could wish, to pre●ent the worst, they were married betime, lest they mar themselves before time. Albeit, moderate restraint, seasonable advice (presupposing some seeds of grace to work on) have wrought singular effects in many of these wilde-ones, who afterwards became grave and modest Matrons.  
To you then, kind-hearts, am I to recommend some necessary cautions, which carefully observed, may make you wiser than you thought of; and cause you have a tender care of that, which before you had never mind of. Your breasts are unlocked, your tongues untied; you cannot love, but you must show it; nor conceive a kind thought, but you must tell it. The Index of your hearts you carry both in your tongues and eyes; for shame, learn silence in the one, and secrecy in the other. Will you give power to an insulting Lover, to triumph over your weakness; or which is worse, to work on the opportunity of your Lightness? Do not; rather ram up those portells which betray you to your enemy, and prevent his entry by your vigilancy. Keep home and stray not, lest by gadding abroad, you incur Dinahs' fate. You have Consorts of your own sex to pass time withal; their society will teach you to forget, what is better forgot than kept. Let not a strayed thought betray your innocency. Check your madding Fancy, and if it use resistance, curb it with restraint. It will do excellently well, if you forbear to resort to places of public meeting; till you have drawn up and sealed a Co●enant with your eyes, to see naught that they may not lawfully covet. These, when they wander, they breed in the heart, a dangerous distemper. Lastly, address your employment ever to something that is good; so shall your fantacy find nought to work upon that is ill. This shall afford you more liberty, than the whole world's freedom can afford you.  
Now to you, Coy ones, whom either coldness of nature hath benumbed, or coyness hath made subtle to dissemble it. You can look and like, and turn another, way, where you like most. No object of love can take you, till it overtake you. Be not wise too much. True affection cannot endure such dissimulation. Divide not him, whom you love, into such extremes: you may be modest, and spare a great deal of this Coyness; It is the rule of Charity to do as you would be done to. Now, would it content you to be entertained with disdain, where your deserts merit acceptance? Rectify this then on yourselves, which you would not have done by another to yourselves. It is an ill requital, to recompense fancy with contempt, or constant love with disdain. This were to incur ingratitude, a vice so odious, as no age could find ever aught more uncivilly impious. I do not move you to be too openhearted, or if so, not too liberally to express it; this were no discovery of fancy, but folly. So conceal your love, as your lover may not despair of all hope to obtain your love. Indifferent Curtsies you may show without lightness, and receive them too in lieu of thankfulness. I leave it to your discretion to distinguish times and places; for these may either improve or impair the opportunity of such like Curtsies.  
Do not immure your beauties, as if a jealousy of your own weakness had necessitated this restraint. There can be no Conquest, where there is no Contest, Converse with love; conceit with yourselves whom you could like. This your cooler temper may admit, and st●●l retain that liberty which is fit.  
falconers use many means to make their Hawks sharp; they begin with short flights, till weathring bring them to endure longer. Pygmalion's image received no● life in all parts at once; first, it took warmth, after that, vital motion. Is love cool in you? let a kindly warmth heat that coldness. Is Love dull in you? let a lively agility quicken that dulness. Is love coy in you? Let a lovely affability supple that coyness: So, in short time, you may have a full relish of love's sweetness.  
Now we come to the attemperament of these; wherein we are to extract out of grosser metals some pure Oar, which we must refine, before it can give any true beauty to this specious palace of love. Draw near then, and attend to what of necessity you must observe; if ever you mean to deserve HER love, whom you are in Civility bound to serve.  
In Sicilia there is a fountain called Fons Solis, 
Po●p. Mela.  out of which at Midday, when the Sun is nearest, floweth cold water; at Midnight, when the Sun is farthest off, sloweth hot water. This should be the lively Emblem of your state (Gentlewomen:) who, now after those cooler vapours of your frozen affection dispersed, those lumpish and indisposed humours dispelled, and those queasy rise of your seeming coyness, dispossessed; have felt that chaste amorous fire burn in you, which will make you of shamefast Maids, modest Matrons. When the heat of passion is at Midday, I mean his full height, with those, to whom faith hath engaged you, and love, before the hostage of that faith, confirmed you; then are you to resemble the quality of that fountain, by flowing with col● water of discretion and sweet temper, 
An Explanation of the Emblem.  to allay that heat; lest it weaken those you love, by giving way to passion, which patience cannot choose but loath. Again, when heat is farthest off, and providence gins to labour of a lethargy; when servants remit their care, neglect their charge, and the whole family grow out of order, through the coldness of a remiss Master; resemble then that fountain, by flowing with hot water; win and wean these whom love and loyalty have made yours, with warm conjugal tears, to compassionate their neglected estate, and by timely prevention to avert the fate of improvident husbands.  
Or thus, 
Another proper application of this Emblem.  if you please, may you make yourselves gracious Emblems of that fountain: Doth the Sun shine at Midday, and in his fullest height on you? Do the beams of prosperity reflect brightly on you? Flow with cold water; alloy this your heat and height of prosperity, with some cooling thoughts of adversity, lest prosperity make you forget both the Author of it, and in the end how to bestow it. Again, doth the Sun shine farthest off you? Doth not one small beameling of prosperous success cheer you? Flow with hot water; vanquish adversity with resolution of temper. Desist not from labour, because fortune seconds not your endeavour. To conclude, as your wild fancy (if you were ever surprised of any) is now rectified; your coolness heatned; your coyness banished; so conform yourselves to them, whom one heart hath made one with you, as no Cloud of adversity may look so black, no beam of prosperity shine so clear, wherein you may not with an equal embrace of both estates, bear your share.   

THE ENGLISH Gentlewoman.  
Argument.  
Gentility is derived from our Ancestors to us, but soon blanched, if not revived by v●; Virtue the best Coat; A shamefaste●ed, the best colour to deblazon that Coat; Gentility is not known by what we wear, but what we are; There are native seeds of goodness sown in generous bloods by lineal succession; How these may be ripened by instruction.  
GENTILITY. 
Gentility.   
GENTILITY consists not so much in a lineal deblazon of Arms, 
Obseruat. 7.  as personal expression of virtues. 
Gentility is derived from our Ancestors to us, but soon blanched, if not revived by us.  Yea, there is no Ornament-like virtue, to give true beauty to descent. What is it to be descended great? to retain the privilege of our blood? to be ranked highest in an Herald's book? when our lives cannot add one line to the memorable records of our Ancestors? There should be no day without a line, if we desire to preserve in us the honour of our Line. Those Odours than deserve highest honours, that beautify us living, and preserve our memory dying. Should we call to mind all those our Ancestors, who for so many preceding ages have gone before us; and whose memory now sleeps in the dust; we should, perchance, find in every one of them some eminent quality or other, if a true survey of their deserving actions could be made known unto us: yea, we should understand, that many of them held it their highest grace, to imitate their Predecessors in some excellent virtue; the practice whereof they esteemed more praiseworthy, than the bare title of Gentility. Now, what just reproof might we deserve, if neither those patterns, which our Ancestors had, nor the virtuous examples of our Ancestors themselves, can persuade us to be their followers? Their blood streams through our veins; why should not their virtues shine in our lives? Their mortality we carry about with us; but that which made them immortally happy, we retain not in us. Their Gentility we claim; the privileges they had by it, we retain. Mean time, where is that in us, that may truly Gentilize us, and design us theirs? What a poor thing is it to boast of, that our blood is nobler, our descent higher? Tell me, can any one prescribe before Adam? And what shall he find in that first Ancestor of his, but red clay? The matter whereof he was made, it was no better; nor can we suppose our mortar to be purer. He most emphatically described our Genealogy, who cried, Earth, Earth, Earth▪ Earth by Creation, Condition, Dissolution. No less fully understood he the quality of his Composition, with the root from whence he took his beginning, who called Earth his Mother; Worms his Brethren and Sisters. His Kinsfolks he could not much boast of, they were such inferior Creatures; no strutters in the street, but despicable Creepers.  
Let me now reflect upon you, Gentlewomen, whose generous birth should be adorned with virtuous worth, and so make you moving Objects of imitation, both in life and death.  
Are you nobly descended? Ennoble that descent with true desert. Do not think that the privilege of greatness, can be any subterfuge to guiltiness. Your more ascending honour requires more than a Common lustre. In places of public resort you challenge precedency, and it is granted you. Shall the highest place have the least inward grace? No; let not a word fall from you, that may unbeseeme you. Others are silent when you discourse; let it be worth their attention; lest a presumption of your own worth draw you into some frivolous excursion. There is not an accent which you utter, a sentence you deliver, any motion in your carriage or gesture, which others eye not, and eyeing assume not. Your Retinue is great; your family gracious; your actions should be the life of the one, and line of direction to the other. To see a light Lady descending from a noble Family, is a Spectacle of more spreading infamy, than any subject of inferior quality. I cannot approve of this Apish kind of formality, which many of our better sort use; it detracts from their descent, to make affectation their Tutoress. They were freeborn; nothing then that is servile can become them. It is nothing to retain the favour or feature of your Ancestors, and to estrange you from that which truly dignified your Ancestors.  
Virtue's have more living Colours, and are seconded with more lasting honours than any outward beauties. You deceive yourselves, if you think that honour received her first life from descent; no, It was demerit that made descent capable of honour. A Pedigree argues your Gentility: but had not some deserving action been, you had never attained to any noble Pedigree. For Gentility is not to be measured by antiquity of time, but precedency in worth. If brackish or troubled water seldom come from a pure Spring; wild and unsavoury fruit from a good tree; whence is it, that noble Predecessors, whose pure blood was never corrupted with any odious stain, should bring forth such degenerating scienes? Surely, this generally proceeds from the too much liberty that is granted to our youth; whose inclinations, though otherwise good and equally disposed, are usually by Custom, which becomes a Second nature, miserably depraved. Society they affect, and this infects them; repair to public places they admit, and this corrupts them. Those eminent examples which their Noble Progenitors left them, become buried with them. They comply with the time; Virtue (they say) can hardly subsist, where Vice is in highest request. What though Plato advice them to make choice of the best way of living, which may be easily effected by assiduate use and daily custom: they have learned to invert his rule, by affecting that custom most, which tends to the practice of virtue least. Besides, there is another reason which may be probably alleged, why generous descents become so much corrupted; and virtuous Parents by vicious Children so frequently seconded. Our Nobler women, though in other respects truly imitable, and for their virtuous Conversation admirable; come short in one peculiar duty, which even Nature exacts of them, and which being duly performed, would, doubtlessly, no less enable and ennoble them who are descended from them, than any particular, were it never so powerful, that could inform them. These which are mothers by generation, are seldom their Nurcing-mothers' by education. No marvel then, if they degenerate, when they partake of the natures of other women. Though their own mother's blood stream through their veins, a stranger's milk must feed them, which makes them participate of their nature, as they are fed with their substance. Wheresoever the Nurse's milk is received, the Nurse's manners are likewise retained. Whence it was, that Chrysippus expressly commanded that the very best and wisest Nurses should be made choice of; that what good blood had infused, might not by ill milk be infected. It was the joint advice both of Plutarch and Pha●orine, that a mother should be her children's Nurse: because, commonly, with the milk of the Nurse, they suck the quality or condition of her life. Yea, according to ancient Decree, women were bound to nurse their own children, and not to ha●e any other women (unless necessity enforced them) to nurse them.  
Let this then be rectified; ye, whose Noble descents have made you eminent in the eye of the world; and whom Gods blessing hath made fruitful Mothers, to bring forth a fair and hopeful increase unto the world: nurse them with your own milk; this will express in you a motherly care● to them; & beget in them a greater measure of childlike love to you. Your care, the more it is parental, will exact of them a love more faithful and filial. Nurse them, I say, with the milk of your own breasts to feed them; with the milk of your own lives to inform them. So shall their actions prove them to be your Successors; when they shall not only derive their blood from you, but on this Theatre of humane frailty, shall publish themselves to be true representers of you. For in vain is your blood to them derived, if your memory by their virtues be not revived. Give them then that which may make them yours. Goodness may be blamed, but her succeeding memory can never be blanched. Thus shall you not only show yourselves worthy of that house, from whence you came, but after your period on earth, be received into a more glorious house in time to come.  
IT is not the Nobility of descent, but of virtues, that makes any one a graceful and acceptable Servitor in the Court of heaven. Houses are distinguished by Coats and C●●sts; but these are dignified by something ●●se.  
In Heraldry those are ever held to be the best Coats, that are deblazon●● with least charge. 
Virtue the best Coat.  Consequently, then must virtue needs be the best Coat. She requires the least charge, in her attire, she is not sumptuous; in her fare, delicious; nor in her retinue (the more is the pity) numerous. She confines her desires upon earth within a straight Circumference; a very small portion of that mettle will content her. She sees none so great in the Court, as may deserve her envy; none so rich in the City, as may beget in her an earthly desire; none so reposed in the Country, as to induce her to change her state. She is infinitely happy, in that she aims at no other happiness, than where it is to be found. Ambition may display her Pie-coloured flag; but she will never get virtue to be her follower: Her desires are pitched upon a fare more transcendent honour, than these State-corrivals on earth can ere afford her; or by their competition take from her. Pleasure may cast out her Lure, but virtue is so high a flyer, as she scorns to stoop to aught unworthy of her: it pleaseth her to contemplate that on earth, which she is to enjoy in heaven. Profit may seek to undermine her; but all her policy cannot work on virtue's constancy. Content is her Crown; Contempt of the world, her care; what worldlings seek, she shuns; whence it is, that her beauty, in the darkest Night of adversity, shines. In a word, she is an absolute Commandress of herself; and easy is it to have that Command, where no turbulent passions labour to contend.  
Fare otherwise is it with those, who be they never so generously descended, popularly graced, nor powerfully guarded, yet being not adorned with this Crest, distinguished by this Coat, they can neither enjoy freedom within, nor safe●y without.  
Lewis the eleventh had a conceit, which, no doubt, proceeded from his melancholic and indisposed humour, that every thing did stink about him; all the odoriferous perfumes, or fragrant savours they could get, would not ease him, but still he smelled a filthy st●●ke. So fares it with them, whose corrupt hearts, like musty vessels, not throughly seasoned with virtue, fe●d forth no other smell than what is most distasteful to a pure and well-disposed mind. Now, there be many, who make an outward semblance of conscience; and promise to the world apparent arguments of their uprightness; whose inward Cells, like corrupt Charnell-houses, afford nothing but filthiness. Y●a, these, to make the world more confident of their sanctity, will not stick to condemn themselves, dis●value their own worth, and rank them amongst the unworthiest that breath on earth. Yet, though they dispraise themselves before others, they cannot endure to be dispraised by others. Whereof we read one excellent example to this purpose: There was a certain woman, who had taken herself to a Cloyster-life, and seemed very devout; so as she usually said to her Confessor, who came often unto her, to hear her Confession, and partake of her Devotion: Good father, pray unto the Lord for me; for I am a woman so evil, yea, even so utterly nought, as I much fear left the Lord punish others for my sins. Upon this, the Priest out of a discreet zeal, desired to try whether there were in her the foundation of true humility or no. Next time therefore, that she uttered the like words unto him, saying; That she was the very worst of all women; the Priest forthwith answered: I have often times at many hands beard thus much of thee before this. Whereat she being presently incensed, replied: You lie in your throat: And whosoever hath told you, or reporteth such things of me, are all liars. To attemper which immoderate passion, the Priest humbly returned her this answer: Now I perceive thy pride and hypocrisy; for as much as thou speakest that of thyself, which thou disdainest any other should speak of thee. And this is no sign of true humility, but of inward pride and gross hypocrisy.  
These dissembled, be they never so assiduate, semblances, are no colours for Virtue's crest. They must be died in grain, or they will not hold. These, who ●xpresse modesty in their outward carriage, are good examples to those that consort with them; yet if their private Parlour be a witness of their dishonour, they deface the figure of goodness in themselves. Virtue consists note in seeming, nor piety in appearing but practising. What is it to be outwardly retired from the world, and inwardly affianced to the world? How are those women in Turkey affected, that most part of the year come not abroad? Those Italian and Spanish Dames, that are mewed up like Hawks, and locked up by their jealous husbands? This is such an enforced restraint, as it many times begets lose desires in the restrained. It is the prevention of occasion that crownes us. More praiseworthy were those women of Sio, could they confine their actions within the bounds of modesty, than these restrained Libertines. For those Island Women, as they are the beautifullest Dames of all the Greeks', so have they more liberty granted by their avaricious husbands, than all the Dames in Greece. For their wife's prostitution is their promotion. So as, when they see any stranger or promising factor arrive, they will presently demand if he would have a Mistress: which, for want of better supply, they mercenarily tender him in the person of their own wives: so willing are they to wear the lasting Badge of infamy, for base lucre or commodity.  
It is not then an enforced moderation of our affections, that deserves the style of goodness. We are to enjoy freedom in our desires, and over those a noble Conquest, if we merit the name of ●●rtuous.  
Come then, Gentlewomen, you see what Coat will honour your House most. Other Coats may be blanched by corruption of blood; or blemished by some other occurrent: but this is so pure as it will admit of no stain. Fantastical & false prophecies may be ominously advanced, published, & dispersed, upon Arms, Fields, Beasts, or Badges, against which our Laws have ordained necessary provisions. But no Augur, Seer, or Soothsayer can by any such groundless Divination, detract from the constant beauty or splendour of his Coat.  
Soveraignizing Saladine, after he had made himself a terror to many potent Princes, by making them his Subjects, who never till then knew what subjection meant; after he had achieved so many prosperous victories, taken in so many flourishing Provinces, and attained the highest degree of an imperial greatness; being surprised by so mortal and fatal a malady, as he despaired of recovery: called his Chieftain or General before him, and bade him haste away to the great City Damascus, and there in the midst of that populous City, to fix his shrouding-sheete upon a Sphere, and display it like a banner, with these words; This is all that Sultan Saladine hath left of all his Ensigns. How happy had that Emperor been, if after so many memorable exploits done by him living, so many imperial trophies of his dispersed victories erected by him breathing, he had reserved this Coat to have memorised him dying?  
Dorcas Coats were brought forth and shown, after she departed. So live, that your best Coats, which are your virtues, may give testimony of you, when Earth shall receive you. Let not your Gentility become blasted with infamy; nor your Noble families labour of that scarcity, as not to give virtue all hospitality, Divinely sung our Modern Poet: 
To be of generous blood and Parents borne,  
And have no generous virtues, is a scorn.   
Let it be your highest scorn, to stoop to any base thought. It is not priority nor precedency of place, but propriety and proficiency in grace that makes an honourable Soul. That Cloth is of most worth that wears best; and that fashion of most esteem that holds longest in request. Virtue is right Sempiternum for wear; and of that complete fashion, as with Christian women it grows never out of date. Make choice of this stuff then to suit you, of this Coat to gentilize you. All others are but counterfeits in comparison of her; whose property it is to honour those that serve her; harbour those that fly for refuge to her; and to reward those who constantly stand in defence of her honour. There is nothing can wound you, being thus armed; nothing ill-beseeme you, being thus adorned; nothing disparage you, being thus honoured. Heraldry finds a Coat for your house, but Virtue finds honour to grace your person. Retain those divine impressions of goodness in you, that may truly ennoble you: display your gentility by such a Coat, as may best distinguish your family; so shall you live and dye with honour, and survive their fame, whose only glory it was to enjoy fortunes favour.  
Painter's are curious in the choice of their colours, lest their Art become blemished, through those decayed colours, wherewith their Pictures are portrayed. Some are of opinion, that the receipt of Painting or Colouring the substance of glass through, is utterly lost; neither that these late succeeding times can regain, as yet, that mysterious perfection. Fare more is it to be doubted, lest virtue, which we have proved by infallible arguments to be the best Coat, want her true colour, and consequently become deprived of her chief lustre. Some Pictures, I know, will do well in white; yet it is colour that gives them life, Beauty never darts more love to the eye, nor with quicker convoy directs it to the heart, then when it displays her guiltless shame in a crimson blush. There is one flower to be loved of women, which is the chiefest flower in all their garden; 
Nazian.  and this is a good red, which is shamefastness. 
A shamefastered the best Colour to deblazon virtue's Coat.  These standing colours are slow wooers to discreet Lovers. Virtue's Coat then is best deblazoned when a shamefastred breaths upon it.  
Protogenes tables, wherein Bacchus was painted, and all his furious Bacchanals to life displayed, moved King Demetrius to such admiration, during his siege of the City Rhodes, that where he might have consumed the City with fire, and buried the glory thereof in ashes, would not for the preciousness of that table: so as, protracting time by staying to bide them battle, won not the City at all. If a liveless Picture could enforce such affection in a knowing Commander, what effects may we think will a living substance produce? Truth is, there is such sweet and amiable correspondence betwixt virtuous beauty, and shamefast modesty, as the one cannot subsist without the others society. Not a light passage can want the attendance of a blush, whilst modesty is in presence. Yea, though she be not conscious of any conceit, that might beget in her face a shamefast blush; out of a modest Compassion she will not stick to blush, when she observes aught in another, deserving blame. Her ears glow at any light report; which, lest they should grow too credulous, she fortifies with reason, to oppose the too easy entrance of suspicion. She partakes of no resemblance less than that of the Chameleon, whose natural property it is to represent all Colours save white. She is a mild and moderate interpreter of others actions; but a serious Censor of her own. Light discourses, which tend rather to the depraving of the hearer, than ministering any useful subject to an attentive Observer, she excludes; uncivil Compliment she abhors; what only is modest she approves; and seconds her approvement with a graceful smile. She holds an infected mind to be more dangerous than an infected house: such Company she shuns, on whom the rays of virtue seldom or never shine. There is not that Condition, be it never so mean, which she cannot with cheerfulness entertain: so as, she holds outward poverty the best enricher of an inward family. Her desires are so equally poized, as she neither seeks more than she enjoys, nor wants freedom to dispose of what she enjoys. Honour she affects, yet with no such eagerness, as to hazard the loss of a dearer honour, for so uncertain a purchase. Friends and favourites she admits, and with that constancy, as it neither reputes her of accepting, nor them of tendering such virtuous fruits of amity.  
Here you have her, Gentlewomen, who will tell you, and in herself exemplify what she tells you; that modesty is the choicest ornament that can adorn you. Now if you purpose to trace her path, or conform yourselves to her line; you must work on your affections, to embrace what she love's, and reject whatsoever she loathes. Are you conversant at any time with such protesting servants, as make deep Oaths mere Compliments; and whose tongues are witty Orators in running descant on a wanton Tale? These are such Consorts as Modesty would be loath to converse with. She can never endure any of these discourses without an angry blush. Should you delight in these, you should quickly hear her out of a virtuous passion, cry out with the Poet: 
O Age! most of our women know not now,  
What 'tis to blush, till painting tell them how.   
Again, should you entertain in your naked bosoms, what some wantoness have too much affected, light amorous Poems; perusing them with no less Content, than if they had been purposely penned to work on your Conceit; this cannot stand with your modesty; These may corrupt you, but never rectify what is wand'ring in you. Suffer not a wanton passage to play on your fantasy. Sin would never enter in upon you, if she found but a preparation of resistance in you. Tell me, what a sweet grace confers it on you, to mix your salutes with modest blushes, and entertain your Suitors with a shamefast bashfulness! Sure I am, where love is discreetly grounded, this cannot choose but be an especial motive to affection. There may be, I grant, such wild lovers, who prefer the lose love of an inconstant Phaedra, before the chaste embraces of a continent Antiope: but their indiscreet choice is ever seconded with a fearful close. Those, who esteem more of a painted cheek, than a native blush, shall find all their imaginary happiness resolved to a painted bliss. It is Modesty and not Beauty which makes the husband happy. Would you then deserve the title of Chaste Virgins, constant Wives, modest Matrons? While you are ranked amongst the first, converse not privately with a wanton thought; send not forth a wand'ring eye to fetch in a Sweetheart. Dis-value not your own worth so much, as to woo others to become your Suitors. This would be a means rather to depress love, than increase it; impair love, than improve it. If you be worthy winning, you cannot choose but be worthy wooing. Mean time, let not a strayed look betray your too forward love; nor a light conceit tax you of deserved reproof. die your cheeks with a Rosy blush, when you hear aught that may detract from the modesty of your Sex. Be as silent as the night; your best Rhetoric consists in maiden blushes, and bashful smiles; which will work more powerfully on a Lover's heart, than a Rhetorical tongue, be it never so curiously tipped with Art.  
For the second rank; you know how strict a duty is imposed on you; now are you not to converse with strange love: or suffer any other person have the least share in your affection. To Court love, or use any Compliment, purposely to win a private favourite, would detract as much from your honour, as for a Soldier to fly from his Captain, and adhere to a stranger. He hath invested you in himself, and engaged himself yours by a sacred vow, which death only may reverse: the dispersed loves which you entertained before, must now be reduced to one, and that but one, by whose mutual choice two are individually made one. A heart divided cannot live; no more can the heat of divided love. You are now so fare from entertaining any stranger; as you have vowed with your heart, not to enter so much as any treaty with an unjust intruder. It is dangerous to converse with a professed foe, whose drift it is to undermine you; and such an one is every lose lover, who labours with the licentious art of adulterous Oratory, to deprive you of that inestimable gem, which of all others, most adorns you.  
For you that are Matrons; ripeness of years hath enjoined you to bid a lasting adieu to the vanities of youth. Now are you set as examples of gravity, for others to imitate.  
It were dotage in you now to begin to love, when your decay in Nature tells you, it is not long you are to live. You have hitherto performed your parts with a generous approvement of your actions, fail not in the conclusion. This small remainder of your declining pilgrimage, should be wholly dedicated to the practice of goodness; that your pious end may second your virtuous beginning. The Sun shines ever brighter at his setting than rising; so should your life appear better at your departing than entering.  
It were incomparably beneficial for you, now in this your Exit, to have your affections seated in heaven, before you depart from earth: leaving some memorable examples of your wel-spent life, which may eternize you after this li●e.  
This will make your names flourish; and cause others in a virtuous emulation of your actions, to retain your memory in their lives. To be brief, be you of what Condition soever, either in respect of your age or state; there is nothing can better become you than a modest shamefastness: which consists either in ●uerting your ear from your own praise; or withdrawing your presence from dishonest or uncivil discourse; or rejecting an importunate Suitor, whose too inconsiderate entertainment might question your honour. I have noted in some women a kind of zealous and devout passion, when they chanced but to hear any light or wanton communication; they could not hold but reprove them for their impudence, and amidst their reproof, to adorn the Rosy Circlets of their cheeks with a blushing shamefastness. Surely, this expressed a singular modesty in them; which I would have you (Gentlewomen) in a serious imitation of them, to represent in yourselves. It will happen, many times, that you cannot choose but encounter with some frontless Buffoun●, whose highest strain of obscene wit, is to justify some fabulous story, or repeat an uncivil Tale; which you are to entertain with such disgust, as these odious relaters may gather by your Countenance, how much you distaste such uncivil discourse. For it is a sweet kind of evincing sin, to discountenance it with a modest shame.  
Thus shall you make your very frown an ingenuous Index of your uncorrupt heart: and to add one line more unto your Honour, display the Character of your guiltless shame in a Maiden blush, a Virgin-colour.  
SEuerus the Emperor would have majesty preserved by a virtuous disposing of the desire, not by a c●rious effeminacy in attire. 
Gentility is not known by what we we●re, but what we are.  For, as we cannot account him for less than a fool, who prizeth his horse by the saddle, and trappings that hang about him, more than by the worth that is in him: so is he most foolish, who values the man by the worth of his clothes, rather than those inward parts that do accomplish him.  
How many formal Gallants shall we observe, whose only value consists in putting on their clothes neatly; with whom, if you should converse, you might easily find Aesop's painted souls, fairly promising, 
O age! no cover now fit for our mould, but Plush, 〈◊〉▪ Velvet, Tissue, Cloth of Gold.  but weakly performing? The greatest Obliquity these can find in our age, is the too careless observance of fashions; which our neat formalists have no great cause to tax for an error, seeing affectation in the choice of fashion is this age's humour. The golden apple was given to the fairest, not the finest; the golden Tripod, neither to the fairest nor finest, but wisest. For might the fairest have obtained it, Alcibiades, being the daintiest and best favoured Boy in all Athens, might by right have challenged it. Again, might the finest have enjoyed it, ●he Lydian Croesus, being richer in attire than any of his time, might have pleaded for it. Of whom it is said, that Solon of Salamine came to visit him: not to admire him, as simple people did, whose judgements most commonly were placed in their eyes: but to reprove him for his vanity, an apt subject for Philosophy; and wean him from that, which threatened ruin to his State. This delicate Prince had that learned Sage no sounder found decked and adorned with the choicest Ornaments, and seated on an high Throne, than he encountered that grave Philosopher with this vain question: demanding of him, Whether he had ever seen a more glorious sight? To whom Solon right gravely answered; Yes, quoth he, I have seen House-cocks, Pheasants, and Peacocks: And these were graced with a natural beauty; whereas yours is but a borrowed glory, which must veil to time, and shake hands ere it be long, with mortality.  
Truth is, should we judge of men's worths by their outward wear, or distinguish Gentility by a fashionable attire, we should err more in judgement, than a blind man in his first discovery of colours. What eminent Ladies are recorded in the continuate historis of fame; whose esteem took first breath, not from what they wore, but what they were? It was not their aim to strike a stupid Beholder into admiration with a fantastic habit, nor allure an humorous Lover with a conceited compliment. 
Our simple Elders knew not what it was,  
To set their face, or court a Looking-glass.   
It was their highest task to correct those errors that were in them: by which means they became so inwardly lovely, as none truly knew them, that could do less than entirely love them. Surely, there is no state that suits so fit●y with Gentility, as the low, but loyal attendance of humility. This is she, who (as she is rightly defined) is the Princess of virtues, the conqueress of vices, the mirror of virginity, the choicest harbour or repose for the blessed trinity. 
Aug.  She considers, how he, by whom our corrupt blood was restored, our unualuable losses repaired, and our primitive nakedness compassionately covered, was not with a Diadem crowned, nor in a stately bed couched; yea, scarcely rather with one poor coat covered: which he wore not as an ornament to his body, to bestow on it trimness, but for necessity to cover his nakedness. What a poverty is it then for you, whose ancient descent promiseth something extraordinary in you, to have nothing to boast of, save only a gilded outside? It was Necessity that invented clothes for you; now were it fit to pride you in that, which deprived you of your prime beauty? You shall observe in many of our grave Matrons, with what indifferency they attire themselves. Their inward ornaments are their chiefest care; their renewing and repairing of them, their highest cure. They have found such choice flowers, as they afford more spiritual delight to the soul, than any visible flowers or odours do to the smell. And what are these, but divine and moral precepts, sovereign instructions; which have taught them how to contemn earth, conquer death, and aspire unto eternity? These by a continued custom or frequent converse with heavenly things, cannot now conceive any object to be worthy their beholding on earth. Fashions may be worn about them, but little observed by them. The WEDDING GARMENT is their desired raiment. This they make ready for the Nuptial day; the meditation whereof so transports them, as nothing below heaven can possess them. It is not beauty which they prise; for they daily and duly consider the Prophet's words, 
joel. 2.  All faces shall gather blackness. Again, they remember the threats which God denounceth upon beautiful, but sinful Niniveh, I will discover thy skirts upon thy face. 
Nahum. 3.  This makes them seriously to consider the dangerous quality of sin, and to apply Ninivehs salve to their sore: that wine of Angels, the tears of repentance. Which, howsoever it is, as one wittily observes, Every man's medicine; an universal Antidote, that makes many a Mithridates venture on poison: yet works it not this baneful effect with these; for their affections are so sweetly tempered, their hearts so truly tendered, as they make not Repentance security to delinquents: They well remember that Aphorism of spiritual Physic: As he that sins in hope of remission, feeds distemperature to seek a Physician; so he that reputes with a purpose of sinning, shall find an eternal place to repent in. Th●se, who thus be●ull themselves in the downe-beds of security, labour of an irreparable Lethargy. They make bold to sin, as if they were sure to repent. But the medicine was made for the wound, not the wound for the medicine. We must not suffer ourselves voluntarily to be wounded, in hope we have to be cured: but prevent the means, that we may attain a more glorious end.  
Prevent the means or occasion of sin; which if at any time we commit, to infuse the balm of repentance into it; which seasonably applied, may minister a sovereign salve to our sore, so we intent our care to so consequent a cure.  
Come then, Gentlewomen, begin now at last to reflect on your own worth. Understand, that Gentility is not known by what you wear, but what you are. Consider, in what member soever your Creator is most offended, in that shall every sinner be most tormented. 
Bern.  Remember, how the time shall come (and then shall your time be no time) when the M●ath shall be your underlining, and the Worm your covering. Trim yourselves then with an inward beauty; that a glorious Bridegroom may receive you. Fashion yourselves to his image, whom you represent. That Fashion only, will extend the 〈…〉 of time, and crown you with immortality 〈◊〉. These, who have their judgements in their eyes, may admire you for your clothes; but those, who have their eyes in their heads, will only prise you by your inward worth. Were it not a poor Ensign of Gentility, to hang up a fantastic fashion to memorise your vanity after death? So live, that you may ever live in the memory of the good. It will not redound much to your honour, to have observed the fashions of the time, but to have redeemed your time; to have dedicated yourselves to the practice of virtue all your time; to have been Mirrors of modesty to your succeeding sex; to have disvalue the fruitless flourish of fading vanity, for the promising hopes of a blessed eternity. Supply then that in you, which bleered judgements expect without you. You challenge precedency in place, express yourselves worthy of that place. Virtue will make you fare more honoured, than any garish habit can make you admired. The one is a Spectacle of derision, the other of true and generous approbation. This you shall do, if you season your desires with discretion; if you temper your excursive thoughts, and bring them home with a serious meditation of your approaching dissolution. It is said of the Palm tree, that when it grows dry and fruitless, they use to apply ashes to the root of it, and it forthwith recovers: that the peaceful Palms of your virtuous minds may flourish ever; that their branches may ever blossom and never whither: apply unto their roots the ashes of mortification; renew them with some sweet and sovereign meditation. That when you shall return to your mother Earth, those that succeed you may collect how you lived while you were on Earth: by making these living actions of your Gentility, happy Precursors to your state of glory.  
Fountains are best distinguished by their waters, 
There are native seeds of goodnesse● sown in generous bloods by lineal succession's  Trees by their fruits, and Generous bloods by their actions. There are inbred seeds of goodness (saith the Philosopher) in every good man: and these will find time to express themselves.  
It was David's testimony of himself: From my youth up have I loved thy Law. An excellent prerogative given him, and with no less diligence improved by him. Now these Native seeds, as they are different, so are the fruits which come of them, variously disposed. Some have a relish of true and generous bounty; wherein they show that noble freedom to their own, in their liberality towards others: as their very actions declare unto the world, their command and sovereignty over the things of this world. Others discover their noble disposition, by their notable pilty and compassion; These will estrange themselves from no man's misery. If they cannot secure him, they will suffer with him. Their bosoms are ever open with pitiful Zenocrates, to receive a distressed one. Over a vanquished foe they scorn to insult; or upon a dejected one to triumph. They have tears to partake with the afflicted; and real expressions of joy to share with the relieved. Others show apparent arguments of their singular moderation; abstemious are these in their dishes; temperate in their Companies; moderate in their desires. These wonder at the rioters of this time; how they consume their days in sensuality and uncleanness. Their account is fare more strait; their expense more straight; but their liberty of mind of an higher strain. clothes they wear, but with that decency, as curiosity cannot tax them; meats they partake, but with that temperance, as delicacy cannot tempt them. Others from their Cradle, become brave sparks of valour; their very Childhood promiseth undoubted tokens of succeeding honour. These cannot endure braves nor affronts. Generous resolution hath stamped such deep impressions in their heroic minds, as fame is their aim; which they hunt after, with such constancy of spirit, as danger can neither amate them, nor difficulty avert them from their resolves. Others are endued with a natural pregnancy of wit; to whom no occasion is sooner offered, than some dainty expression must second it. Others with more solidity of judgement, though of less present conceit. And these are such, as generally employ themselves in State-affairs; wherein Experience, purchased by an useful expense of time, doth so ripen them, as the Public State takes notice of them, and recompenseth their care with honours conferred on them.  
These and many other excellent endowments shall we observe to be lineally derived from Ancestors to their successors; which, as they retain a near resemblance of their persons, so they represent their Actions: so powerful is nature in bestowing her distinct Offices on every creature, wherein they generally partake of their disposition as well as outward feature: whence the Poet, 
Stout men and good are sprung from stout and good,  
Horses and steers retain their parent's blood.   
Yet see the iniquity of time! It fareth ofttimes with those who are endowed with these virtues, to be most traduced, where their more noble and eminent parts are to be highliest honoured. Which, as it was a main error in former ages, so descends it to these present times. When Rome was in her glory, this eclipsed her light, by detracting from their demerits most, whose free-bred virtues deserved of their Country best. Sundry Families she had, famous for their virtues, which by a depraved and misinterpreting Censure, became branded with undeserved aspersious. If the Piso's were frugal, they were held parsimonious; if the Metelli devout, they were superstitious; if the Appijs strict, they were rigorous; if the Man●●j affable, they were ambitious; the Laelij, if wise, they were dangerous; the Publicolae popular, by being courteous. But with good and and well-disposed person's, virtue is never out of favour, though it be never so much impeached by a traducing censure.  
Thus you have heard, Gentlewomen, what virtues have lineally and by blood descended from Parents to their Children; what especial inward graces usually attend some especial families, which no less memorise them, than those native honours which are conferred on them. Now, to select such as sort best with your sex and condition; in my opinion there is none that ennobles you higher, or makes you more gracious in the eye of the beholder than Modesty, which was the greatest advancer of many Roman families. This is that virtue, which expresseth you to be women; this is that, which makes you honoured amongst women. Chains and Carcanets, jewels and Habiliments may be valued; but this Ornament is of that high estimate, as it is not to be prized. Now, there is nothing that will cause this to appear more precious unto you, next to the testimony of a good Conscience within you, with an ardent desire of promoting his glory who made you, than a reflection to your Family which bred you; whose honour to preserve, as it is your especial duty, so no object of profit or pleasure, no attractive Lure of deceiving honour should remove this opinion from you: To be high borne and basely minded, is to engraff bastard slips in a noble stock. High and heroic virtues become great house▪ for, as they were first made great by being good, so should they by surceasing from being good, lose their title of being great. If by abusing the liberty of time, you detract from your Ancestors fame, you lie a blemish on his shrine; which, though it touch not him, yet it taints you who represent him.  
This, no doubt, was that Noble Lady right mindful of, when on a time being solicited by a powerful Suitor, who wooed her first in person, and after in a wanton Rhetorical Letter, she, as one tender of her honour, and perceiving that the scope of his suit tended to her dishonour, answered his fruitless sollicitancy in this sort, with great modesty: Should I condescend to your Suit, I should not only derogate from the honour of my present state, dis-value that which I hold most dear, make myself a subject of contempt to every ear, but asperse that infamy on my family, which would bear record of my inconstancy. O what would the next age report of me, that I should so fare degenerate from those that bred me? No; poverty may enter in at my gate, but dishonour shall never lodge in mine heart. Reserve these promises of honour for such, as prise them above their ●●nour: That generous blood which distreames through my veins, shall sooner be dried, than it shall be for any hope of advancement ingloriously stained.  
Such singular resolves many of our Albion Ladies, questionless, even at this day retain; who, rather than they would incur the least dishonour, or occasion suspicion by their too free entertain of light Suitors, would confine themselves to their Chambers▪ and debar themselves of public recourse. Seeing then, that there are native Seeds of goodness son in generous bloods by lineal succession; which even in their first infancy give fair promises of their inward beauty: express yourselves Daughters worthy such virtuous Mothers. Emulation of goodness in great persons is honourable. Their Pictures you hang up, that their memories may live with you. Enjoy their virtues too, and their memories shall live fresher in you. All memorials, being materials, be they never so durable, are subject to frailty; only these precious monuments of your virtues survive time, and breath eternity. You spring from a noble Seminary; let those seeds of goodness which are sown in your youth, come to that ripeness in your age, that as in piety you imitated others, so you may become Precedents unto others; as you were here seasoned with grace, a good report may follow you to your grave. All which by instruction only may be effected, as in our next branch shall be more pregnantly proved.  
HE cannot choose but live well, who conforms himself to that he hears. 
How these native seeds of goodness may be ripened by instruction.  Good instructors are such faithful Monitors, as they will advice what is most fitting, not what is best pleasing. And these are to be entertained with such endeared respect, as their speeches, be they never so tart, should not incense us, nor their reproofs, be they never so free, distaste us.  
Though Clitus open rebukes cost him his life, his free and friendly reproof expressed his love; so as Alexander could never sufficiently bemoan his loss. Those Native seeds of goodness, whereof we formerly treated, be they in our infancy never so plentifully diffused, yet in time they would grow rank and wild, unless they were by seasonable instruction ripened. Now, Gentlewomen, there be no Tutresses fit to perfect this excellent work in you, than those who were the secondary instruments of being unto you; Neither can those, who are derived from you, become better instructed than by you. Your love, I confess, will be more indulgent, yet your care so much the more incessant. Their dispositions are best known unto you; if motherly affection than will give way to discretion, who more fit to mould them than you? Preceding times may afford you variety of examples in this kind.  
Cornelia instructed hers in all piety; Portia she in exemplary grounds of chastity; Sulpitia she in precepts of conjugal unity; Edesia she in learning and morality; Paulina she in memorials of shamefast modesty. These, though Heathens, were excellent informers of youth; so as, their Children were more bound to them for their breeding than bearing, nurturing than nursing. Besides, there is an inbred filial fear in Children to their Parents, which will beget in them more attention in hearing, and retention in holding what they hear. Now, there is no instruction more moving, 
Greg. in 38. Euang.  than the example of your living. By that Line of yours, are they to conform their own. Take heed then, lest by the damp of your life, you darken both their glory and your own. I might propose unto you books of instruction, which might minister arguments plenteously in this kind: but so short is the memory in retaining what it reads, yea so distracted is the mind in observing what it reads, that, as it fares with our natural face in a glass, from which the glass is no sooner removed, than the resemblance of it is abolished; even so, the book is no sooner left out of the hand, than the Contents are leapt out of the heart. Yet, to the end you may not be unprovided of such Tracts as may enable you for instruction; and prepare you to encounter with tentation; I will recount such unto you, as may best accommodate you for the one, and fortify you against the other.  
Learned Viues in his instruction of a Christian woman, recommends unto them these glorious Lights of the Church, 
A brief enumeration, serious dicussion, and judicious election of sundry ancient fathers, with other moral Author's.  S. Hierom, Cyprian, Augustine, Ambrose, Hilary, Gregory; annexing unto them those moral Philosophers: Plato, Cicero, Seneca, etc. Of which, severally to deliver my opinion, it is this:  
Than S▪ Hierom none more gravely copious, as may appear by those pithy and effectual Epistles of his, directed to those Noble Ladies, Marcelia, Demetria, Laeta, Furia, etc. wherein he useth singular exhortations, invincible arguments, persuasive reasons, sweet similitudes, and forcive examples. Modesty is the subject he commends unto them; decency in apparel he approves in them; to a moderate restraint of liberty he enjoines them; to an exemplary holiness he exhorts them; and with sweet and comfortable promises of an incorruptible reward he leaves them.  
Than S. Cyprian, none more devoutly fervorous; in his reproofs he shows mildness; in his treaties a passionate sweetness; he wins the sinner by inducing reasons; he strengthens the soul mightily against temptations; he proposeth an excellent way of moderating the affections; he applies sovereign receipts to soveraignizing passions: and concludes with that sober and discreet temper, as with a Divine insinuation he woos, wins, and weanes the sinner, and in a spiritual tie unites him to his Redeemer.  
Than S. Augustine, none more profoundly judicious, more indiciously zealous; pithy are his directions, powerful his instructions; in his Meditations he is moving; in his Soliloquies inwardly piercing; in his Manual comfortably clozing. Amongst all those Conflicts in our Christian wa●fare, he holds none sharper than our Combat with Chastity. He applies means how we may resist, resisting vanquish; and by our Christian victory, receive Crowns of eternal glory. That Conquest he holds, deserves small honour, which is achieved without Encounter. In a Divine rhapsody drawn, as it were, from himself, he shows what should be done by us. Earth is no object fit to entertain our eye; nor her deluding melody our ear: He exhorts us therefore to leave Earth now while we live, that leaving Earth for altogether, we may enjoy our best Love..  
Than S. Ambrose, none more Divinely plenteous; sweetly serious are his instructions; enforcing are his reasons; he speaks home to the sinner: whom he no sooner finds wounded for sin, than he applies a Spiritual Salve to cure his sin. Many grave sentences are in his Offices methodically couched; singular directions to guide every Christian in his Spiritual Pathway, are there delivered. Like an expert Physician, he first gathers the nature or quality of your distemper, and then ministers soule-saluing receipts to restore you to your right temper. He shows you how in your very motion, gesture, and place you are to observe modesty: concluding that nothing can afford true comfort to a sojourning soul, but practise of piety.  
Than S. Hilary, none more fully sententious; he discovers the occasion of our corruption familiarly; adviseth us with many passionate and teare-swollne lines to provide for our inward family; he proposeth us a reward, if we contemn Earth; he threatens us with the Law if we contemn life. Sundry moving and effectual Lessons he recommends to the perusal of women of all ranks, ages, and conditions. Tenderly he compassionates the case of a sinner; passionately treats he of those torments which shall last for ever: with prayers and tears he solicits them that have gone astray, to return; those that are already returned, to go no more astray. He concludes with an useful Exhortation to sorrow for sin, promising them, ●orth of that Storehouse of Comforts, contained in the Gospel, for this their momentaine sorrow, an incessant joy in Zion.  
Than S. Gregory, none more highly mysterious, nor contemplatively glorious; Divinely moral are his Morals; full of heavenly comforts are his instructions; he walks in an higher way than others trace, yet with that humility, as there is not a close from him, but it discloseth in him a love of meekness, lowliness, and piety. With proper and elegant similitudes are his works adorned; with choice sentences, as with so many select flowers, neatly garnished; in a word, he is sweetly substantial, and substantially sweet. He reprehends the times gravely; commends the practice the virtue gracefully. With an holy zeal he reproves the remissness of the Ministry. Directions he gives unto women, to have an especial care of modesty: concluding, that the love of this life should not so possess us, as to deprive us of that inheritance which might eternally bless us. In good minds he holds poverty the portresse of humility: accounting those Evils or Adversities, which do here press us, to be the Cords which draw us unto God who made us.  
Touching those three Philosophers, this is my conceit of them; wherein none can otherwise choose than concur with me, that shall seriously read, and sincerely scan them: Than Plato, none more Divinely Philosophical; Than Cicero, more philosophically Rhetorical; Than Seneca, more Sagely Moral.  
But for as much as it is not given to most of you to be Linguists, albeit many of their works be translated in your mother-tongue, you may converse with sundry English Authors, whose excellent instructions will sufficiently store you in all points; and if usefully applied, confer no small benefit to your understanding. I shall not need particularly to name them to you, because I doubt not, but you have made choice of such faithful Retainers and virtuous Bosome-friends, constantly to accompany you. Neither, indeed, are books only necessary; conference will singularly improve your knowledge; but that is not altogether so convenient nor decent for your sex in public places. So as, I much condemn their opinion, who hold no means so fitting to bring their daughters to audacity, as a frequent consort with Company. This, in time, begets in them rather impudence than boldness.  
It was held a touch to a Maid to be seen talking with any one in a public place. But in private Nurseries, which may be properly termed your household Academies, it will suit well with your honours to treat and enter into Conference one with another; or in such places, where your own sex is only conversant. For such indiscreet Mothers, who usually trim and deck their daughters, to send them forth to Shows, Meetings, or Interludes, they anoint bavin with oil, that it may burn the better. But much more blame-worthy be those, who take them along to Taverns and gossipings; which Education a little time will bring into custom, and make modesty a stranger to herself. For above all things (saith the Philosopher) ought young Girls to be kept from Ebriety: which he confirms with this reason: It is good, saith he, for young men and maids to be kept from wine, lest such become afterwards professed drunkards, profuse rioters, and prodigal exposets of their honour: the main occasion whereof, are their parents, 
Arist. Po●it. 7.  by means of their ill instruction, and worse example.  
It is the very first instruction that takes the deepest impression; how necessary then is it for you, Gentle women, whose sex is the Emblem of weakness, and whose best resolves are ofttimes weakened by youthful promises, to furnish your blooming youth with wholesome instructions: and so to improve them, that they may increase in vigour, as you do in stature? This your sex exacts of you; this your present estate requires of you: and this shall easily be effected by you, if having (as is to be presupposed) discreet and religious Mothers, you submit yourselves in all humble obedience to their direction. For as it is very hard for any one to know how to command, unless she know first how to obey; so will it be unto you to perform the office of a Mother, if you never knew the duty of a daughter. Strict and severe may those Commands seem to your youth, which riper age will easily digest. Again, you that are Mothers, become patterns of modesty unto your daughters. Your living actions are the lines of their direction. While they are under your command, the error is yours, not theirs, if they go astray. Their honour should be one of the principal'st things you are to tender; neither can it be blemished, without some touch to your Credit. I have known some inconsiderate mothers, and those none of the lowest rank or quality, who either out of a confidence they had of their daughters good carriage, or drawn with the hopes of some rich Suitors to advance their marriage, have usually given too free way to opportunity, which brought upon their daughter's names a spreading infamy.  
Your instructions will do well with them, till society deprave them: divert then the occasion, so shall your daughters, be they never so poor, have good portions of reputation. Suffer not then those who partake of your image, to lose their best beauty. Sigh then if they be soiled, for their shame must be on you aspersed.  
Grace is a pure balm, and consequently requires a pure and sound vessel. In vain is it infused, if the vessel be not whole and sound to preserve it. Look then to your own actions; these must inform them; Look to your own examples, these must confirm them. Without you they cannot perish; with you they may. What will you do with the rest that is left, when you see a part of yourself lost?  
The Harpy hath the face of a man, but a Bird so cruel by nature, as when she is an hungry, she will assault any man and kill him. After which bloody repast, she becomes thirsty, so as, going to the River to quench it, she sees her own face; and recalling▪ to mind how it resembles him whom she slew, she conceives such grief, as she dies therewith. If your Education or instruction deprave those who derive their beginning from you, the resemblance of this story may have proper relation unto you. But if your pious examples enable them, their proficiency in virtue shall ennoble you; your comforts shall be multiplied in them; your hopes seconded by them; and to your everliving fames, the memory of your virtues preserved by them.  
Let not that adage prove true, in respect of your Charge: The most precious things have ever the most pernicious Keepers. Nothing more precious than a Virgin's honour; it were shame for the mother to prove a Tarpeian or treacherous keeper. That Conceit was elegantly expressed by the Emperor Charles the fifth, in his instructions to the King his son; That Fortune had somewhat of the nature of a woman; that if she be too much wooed, she is the farther off. But I hope I shall not find that averseness in you. I have wooed you in words; express yourselves won by the testimony of your works. I would not follow the indiscretion of Empirics, which minister same medicines to all Patients; I know well, that such Physic as agrees with age, would not agree with the hot constitution of youth: To either sort therefore have I applied my several receipts: and to both, do I address my conclusion.  
Let the whole progress of your Conversation be a continued Line of instruction; Let the mother discharge her office in commanding, and that without too much rigour or indulgence; Let the daughter perform her duty in obeying, with all faithful and filial observance: So shall honour grace you here, and glory crown you there with an heavenly inheritance.   

THE ENGLISH Gentlewoman.  
Argument.  
Honour is painted, when it is not with virtue powdered; No cloth takes such deep tincture, as the cloth of honour; Honourable personages should be precedents of goodness; Virtue or vice, whethersoever takes hold first, retains a deeper impression in honour, than any lower subject; That, virtue may receive the first impression by means of an inbred noble disposition, seconded by helps of Education; Which reduced to habit, aspires to perfection.  
HONOUR. 
HONOUR.   
Promotion's discovers what men be, but true Honour shows what they should be. 
Obseruat. 8.  That is fed with a desire of being great; this is inflamed with a noble emulation of being good. It is a miserable thing to observe what brave and heroic Spirits, whose resolutions neither danger could amate, nor any disaster perplex, have been madded with an ambitious quest after Honour; what difficulties they encountered; what oppositions they suffered; what intricate passages and provinces they entertained! Corrivals they could not want in their rising; nor Enuyers of their greatness in their settling; nor Spectators to rejoice at their setting. Rough and menacing was the Sea, on which they sailed; dangerous and sheluy the ways, by which they passed; yea, full of disquiets was the Port, at which they arrived. Nay, which is worse; in what sinister and indiscreet paths would they walk; upon what strange plots and proiectments would they work; how discontentedly and disconsolately, with Themistocles, would they walk, till they attained their end: which, many times, brought them to an untimely end? So quickly is poor man deluded with this shady picture of greatness, as he will not stick to engage for it his hopes of quietness.  
But these be not those Eminent Personages, 
Honour is painted, when it is not w●th virtue pondered.  of whom I am now to treat: for such men's honour is merely painted, because it is not with virtue pondered. Moral Philosophy, much more our Christian theory, could never hold that for deserving greatness, which had not near relation to goodness. Those only they esteemed worthy honour, who did not seek it, much less buy it, but were sought by it. Such as knew not what it was to admire the purple, nor fawn on a rising favourite; but interueined their actions with the precious Oar of Divinest virtues. Such as had attained to a singular Command or sovereignty of their affections: so as, they had learned to say as Chilo answered his brother, We know how to suffer injuries; so do not these fiery and furious spirits. It is a poor expression of greatness, to exercise it in revenge; or in triumphing over inferiors; or countenancing unjust actions. These detract from honour; neither can their memory live long, who makes authority a Sanctuary to wrong. Know then, (noble Gentlewomen) that your Honour, be it never so eminent; your Descent, be it never so ancient; lose both their beauty and antiquity, if virtue have not in you a peculiar sovereignty. Be your wanton fancy painted and trimmed in never so demure or hypocritical disguise; Be your ambition or Courtly aspiring never so shrouded with gilded shadows of humility; Be your unbounded desire of revenge never so smoothly coloured with the seeming remission of an impressive injury. In a word, should you never walk so covertly in a Cloud; nor never so cunningly with a dainty kind of dissembling gull the world; all this will not avail you. When your bodies shall come to be shrouded, then shall all your actions be uncased. Rumour then will take more liberty to discover unto the world, what you did in it. Show me that deepest dissembler, who retired himself most from the knowledge of man, and came not to discovery, for all his secrecy, to the eyes of man.  
Many you have known and heard of, that were great, but failing in being good, were their pretences never so specious, did not their memory rot? jezabel was more eminent in titles than A●igall; but less glorious in her fame. Such a poor piece of painted stuff is that adulterate honour, which from virtue receives not her full lustre. When the subtle Spider shall wove her curious web over your Monuments; when those beauteous structures of yours shall be dissolved; when all your titular glory shall be obscured; when those fading honours, on which you relied, and with which you stood surprised; shall be estranged▪ and you from this goodly low Theatre of earth translated; it shall be then demanded of you, not know how eminent you were in greatness, but how fervent in actions of goodness. While your skins than are with choicest Odours perfumed, let your souls be with purest virtues powdered. Now for virtue, would you know how to define her, that you may more eagerly desire to become her retainer? Or would you have her described, that you may thence collect how well she deserves to be observed? Hear the Poet; 
Virtue in greatest danger is most shown,  
And though oppressed, is never overthrown.   
Such a noble resolved temper ever accompanies virtue, as no prosperous success can ever transport her, nor any adverse occurrent deject her. She feeds not on the airy breath of vulgar applause: her sole ambition is to aspire to an inward greatness; to be truly honourable in the title of goodness. Great attendance, punctual observance, stately retinues are not the objects she eyess she love's to be known what she is, by that constant testimony which is in her, rather than by any outward ornament, much less formal Compliment, that may apishly suit her.  
Would you enter than (Gentlewomen) into a more serious survey of yourselves? Would you rightly understand wherein your persons deserve honour, or how you may be eternally honoured by your Maker? Tender your service to virtue; avoid what is hurtful; admit what is helpful. Sacrifice not a vain hour to the Altar of vanity. Employ your time in exercises of piety. Dedicate your days to the advancement of God's glory. See not that poor soul in want, which your noble compassion will not re●●●ue. Have you friend's? hold them dear unto you. If dear in the eye of virtue; otherwise, discard them, for you shall be more stained by them, than strengthened in them. Have you foes? if vicious, they deserve ever to be held so; but if they affect goodness, prise them above the value of your highest fawning friends: who, as they are mere observers of the time, prefer your fortunes with which you are enriched, or honours to which you are advanced, or some other by-respect secretly aimed, before those essential parts which are in you, and truly ennoble you.  
Are you of esteem in the State? Become powerful Petitioners for the poor man's sake. Prefer his suit, entertain a compassionate respect of his wrongs. Labour his relief; and do this, not for the eyes of men, but of God; who, as he seethe secretly, will reward you openly.  
Again; have you such as malign your honour? Their aspersions cannot touch you; He that made you, hath made you strong enough to despise them, and with a patiented smile, or careless neglect to slight them. The sweet smell of your vertus hath already dispersed themselves; your memory is without the reach of infamy: 〈◊〉 then secure, while your virtues shine so pure. Retain a true and unenforced in you; so shall honour appear more g●a●efully in you. Imitate not those sudden-rising gourds of greatness, who have no sooner attained the titles of Ladies, than this report makes them put on a new port; old acquaintance, must be forgot; 〈◊〉 must sit on their brows; and a contemptuous disdain on their lips. Though their mould be but the same, they would fain change themselves into another mould. These are such as deserve not your knowledge; though they be by their titles honoured, their titles by their ignoble actions become blemished. Let them therefore study making of a face; composing of their gate; preserving of their vain pomp; with an unbeseeming port: while your Contemplation shall fix itself on no other object, than that true expressive end of honour: which is, to retain a Christian humility in your state; a noble Compassion in your eye; an affable sweetness in your discourse; an exquisite practice of goodness in your whole life. To disesteem virtue, and hug that painted Idol of titular honour; is to contemn the Instrument, and foolishly to prise the Case or Cover. Be ye never so eminent, ye are but painted Trunks, if virtue be not resident. Let her then not only be resident but precedent over all your actions; so shall you not only live but dye with honour; by leaving that succeeding memory of your virtues behind you, that time may here eternize you, when time to eternity shall change you▪ For as salt to every subject, whereto it is applied, gives a savour; so gives virtue the sweetest relish unto Honour.  
Cloth died in grain retains ever the deepest colour; 
No cloth takes such deep tincture, as the Cloth of homour.  but none of deeper die than the Cloth of Honour, If it be but with the least blemish tinct, it can never wipe off that taint. Spots in white are soon discerned, & errors in great personages, whose actions should be whites for inferiors to shoot at, are quickliest discovered. True Coral needs no colour; no more needs true Honour any exterior lustre. When Parasius, that exquisite Painter was to take a Counterfeit of Helen, he drew her with her head-attire lose; and being demanded the reason, answered, She was lose.  
Be your actions never so darkly shrouded, nor your amorous encounters cunningly carried; there will be ever some priute Pencil to portray them, some quicksighted eye to display them. Love's interview betwixt Cleopatra and Marks Anthony, promised to itself as much secure freedom as fading fancy could tender; yet the last Scene clozed all those Comic passages with a Tragic conclusion.  
No pleasure can be constant, unless it afford inward content; nor can it minister content, unless it be on virtue grounded. Honour then must choose for herself such a Consort, as she may not be ashamed to have chosen. A vigilant Circumspection should attend her; resembling in this particular, the watchful Crane, whose wary eye ever fears, and by a timely fear prevents surprisal. Now, there is nothing that asperseth a deeper stain upon the Cloth of Honour, than too much attention unto Sycophants. These are they, which transport Honour above herself, by bringing her to a vain and odious idolising of herself. These will not suffer their Trencher-patronesse to reflect on herself, nor to enter into a private treaty with mortality. Those be too sour and severe Tractates for greatness. Death is to be thought on with these, when nothing else is to be thought on. O what pernicious Consorts be these for noble Personages? Antisthenes' said truly of them; Praestat 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 quàm 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 incidere: for Ravens feed only on dead Carcases, but flatterers upon living men.  
O banish these your Portells! Their glozing will labour your Confusion. They will make you forgetful of your being, and consequently deprive you of your well-being. Every fool (saith Menander) will be taken with arrogance & applause; whereas the judiciously wise account it their highest happiness, to meditate of the means how to prevent their highest unhappiness. It is a miserable thing in a man, to make himself a beast, by forgetting himself to be a man. Which usually comes to pass, when we propose before our bleered and deluded eyes the glorious Spectacles of this Theatre of vanity, but never seriously meditate of our own frailty, nor of the excellency of that Supreme beauty, which makes the enjoyer absolutely happy.  
That Mot of the Athenians to Pompey the Great, Thou art so much a God, as thou acknowledgest thyself to be a man, was no ill saying: for at the least to be an excellent man, is to confess himself to be a man. Violets, though they grow low and near the earth, smell sweetest; and Honour appears the fullest of beauty, when she is humblest. Alas! what are titles worth, when deserts are wanting? The best signal of descent, is distinguished by desert. Antiochus was at one time saluted both 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 & 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, a glorious Prince, and a furious Tyrant. So flitting is the applause of the vulgar, as it never confers on the subject it approves or applauds, any permanent honour. It is miserable (saith the Poet) to rely on another's fame; 
Horace▪  but worse, to beg fame from them that are infamous. It is praiseworthy to be by some dispraysed; yea, virtuous actions, should they be by vicious persons commended, would rather lose of their lustre, than become any way improved. To be cheerful in adversity, humble in prosperity, and in both to show a temperate equality, is worthy praise, and deserves Honour for a prize. Yet, should these be but only pretences to gull the world, or delude the simple admirer, they would in time unmask themselves, and display their counterfeit insides with shame to the world. False and adulterate colours will not hold, nor virtuous semblances long retain the esteem they have. We have ever held them for most ridiculous, who follow the fashion, and were never yet in fashion. And such are all those Counterfeit followers of virtue, who pretend fairly, but fall off foully. These may be properly, in my opinion, compared to our new counterfeit stuffs; which, as at first they are made best, so do they wear best at first. Your Cloth, Gentlewomen, must be of another nap: it must not be the best a fare off. Flowers, Edges, Laces, and Borders do beautify the outward attire, but add no grace to the inward man. Now, that Cloth is the best, which shrinks the least.  
Do any extremities encounter you? Let the innocency of your untainted minds cheer you? Doth disgrace or infamy press you? You have a Cloud of witnesses within you, that can bear testimony of you, and for you. That person needs not fear any foe, that hath within him such an incomparable friend. There was never any yet so happy, as to be wholly freed from adversity, and never feel any gusts of affliction. Trials of patience are sweet encounters; by a mind rightly-resolued, they are with more delight than distaste entertained. Which, as they come not unexpected, so are they no less cheerfully received.  
It is the argument of a generous spirit, to express his highness' most, when the world accounts of him least. Honour, if truly grounded, can look in the face of terror, and never be amated. Her device deserved approvement, who in the portraiture she made for herself, directed her eye to the picture of virtue, and pointing thereat with her finger, used this Imprezza: That picture is my posture. Truth is, she that makes virtue her object, cannot but make every earthly thing her subject. Yea, there is nothing she wears, which she makes not a moral use of to better herself. Her very attire puts her in mind of what she was before she needed it; and how breach of obedience necessitated her to wear it. She will not therefore pride herself in her shame, nor glorify herself in the cover of sin. She cannot eye herself with any self-love, seeing she lost herself by affecting that which she ought not to love. Her head-tire puts her in mind of the helmet of salvation; her stomacher, of the breastplate of righteousness; her partlet, of the shield of faith; her very shoes, of the sandals of peace. In this Tabernacle of earth, she is every day nearer her port of rest; for her discourse is ever seasoned with discretion, winged with devotion, and graced by her own conversation.  
She is none of these, who are Saints in their tongues, but Devils in their lives: She propounds nought fit to be done, which she confirms not with her own action. Again, for her actions, she is free from public scandal, as her whole life is a golden rule of direction, a continued precept of instruction. In a word, she considers from whence she came, her descent was noble, and this she graceth with noble virtues. Her house must receive no dishonour from her, but an ample testimony of a deserving successor.  
Let this Idea, Gentlewomen, be your Pattern. Pure is the Cloth you wear; let no stain of yours blemish it; no Moth of deserved detraction eat into it. Many of your Sex, though highly borne, have so blemished the honour of that house from whence they came, and corrupted that noble blood from which they sprung, as their memory rots, yet their infamy life's. Again, others there have been, who though obscurely borne, yet by those eminent virtues which did adorn them, those Divine parts which did truly ennoble them, they became enlightners of their obscurity, filling Annals with their glorious memory. Imitate these; relinquish those. Honour is not worth receiving, unless it be entertained by one that is deserving: yea, how many have incurred disgrace by dis-esteeming virtue, when they were advanced to highness of place? Nay, how many while they lived obscure, lived secure, and preserved their good names, who afterwards, by becoming great, lost that private esteem which before they possessed? So hard it is to encounter with honour, and every way return a saver.  
Seeing then no Cloth takes such deep tincture as the Cloth of Honour; Let no vicious aspersion spot it, no corrupt affection stain it; lest, by being once blemished, it bring that honour into contempt, which before you retained.  
Landmarks are usually erected for direction of the Mariner, 
Honourable Personages should be Precedents of goodness. Epictet.  and Magistrates elected for instruction of the inferior. The keel of man's life, being ever more laden with vanity than verity; and more chilled with the bitter gusts of affliction, then cheered with the soule-solacing drops of true consolation, is ever tossed with contra●y winds: neither, without the help of some expert Pilot, can poor deluded man arrive safely at the Port where he would be▪ Pride transports him, avarice infects him, riot corrupts him, sensuality secures him, anger distempers him, envy consumes him, idleness dulls him. Thus becomes he piecemeal divided from himself, because he reflects not with a pure and impartial eye upon himself. What great need stands he in then of direction in this Maze of misery, vale of vanity? He portrayed him well, who in the description of him, styled him a story of calamity, a statue of infelicity. He is frail in resisting, prone to falling, slow in rising. Examples than were useful, to conduct him in his ●ournall. And who more fit to be these Precedents, than such whom an honourable descent hath ennobled, or Princes favour advanced? It is not for these to entertain any servile or degenerate affection, nor to ●arbour one mutinous thought against the sovereignty of reason. To be a Lady of honour is more than titular. She is only eminent, who makes every action of her life a virtuous precedent. Goodness must be infused in her blood, that descent may partake of desert. Now, there be three especial objects, upon which they are to reflect: Charity, Chastity, Humility.  
An honourable mind is best shown in her Liberal and compassionate exhibition to such, whose necessities require relief. Yea, she love's those best, to whom these arguments of bounty are in highest measure expressed. She averts not her ear from the needy beggar, she will show him all favour for his image or feature. She holds it an unbeseeming state, to entertain a sour look, where noble pity should beget in her a compassionate love. She is so daily and duly enured to works of mercy, as she joys in no object more than occasion of bounty. She considers (and this she Divinely applies unto herself) how nought but vanity is to be attributed to them, retain they never so much earthly glory on them, who dwell in houses of clay, whose foundation is in the dust, which are crushed before the Moth. 
job 4. 19  Silken vanity cannot delude her, nor any opinionate conceit of her own estate transport her. Her mind is not subject to wavering, nor her walk to wand'ring. Be her life long; her goodness becomes improved: be it short; her desires are crowned. Neither reserves she the glean for him, that is Master of the Harvest. Poverty, appear it never so despicable to her eye, it conveys compassion to her heart. She gives Alms of the best, for his sake whom she love's best. A miserable mind she hates; for she conceives how nothing can be better worth enjoying, than a liberal desire of disposing: which she expresseth with that cheerful alacrity, as it inhanceth the value of her bounty. Thus she life's in a free and absolute command of what she enjoys; with an hand no less open than her heart; that action might second her pious intention.  
Neither is the true Nobility of her mind less discerned by her love to Chastity. Pure be her thoughts, and unstained. The Sanctuary of her heart is solely dedicated to her Maker; it can find no room for an inordinate affection to lodge in. She knows not how to throw out her love-attracting Lures; nor to expose the glorious beauty of her soul to shame. A moment's stain must not blemish her state. She will not therefore give her eye leave to wander, lest it should betray her honour to a treacherous intruder. How weak prove those assaults, which her homebred enemies prepare against her? Her look must be set on a purer Object than vanity: She will not eye it, lest she should be taken by it. Her Discourse must be of a better subject than vanity: She will not treat of it, lest she should be engaged to it. Her thoughts are not admitted to entertain vanity: They must not conceit it, lest they should be deceived by it. Occasions wisely she foresees, timely prevents, and consequently enjoys true freedom of mind. You shall not see her consume the precious oil of her Lamp, the light of her life, in unseasonable reere-bankets; unprofitable visits; or wanton treaties. Those will she not admit of for companions, who are prodigal of their honour. These she reproves with a mild spirit, labouring to reclaim them with an ingenuous tender of her virtuous compassion towards them. None she more distastes than these Brokers or Breakers of licentious bargains: She excludes them the List of all ci●ill society. How cauteious she is, lest suspicion should tax her? Outwardly, therefore, she expresseth, what she inwardly professeth. That honourable blood which she from her Predecessors received, till death surprise her, will she leave untainted. Neither is there ought she hates more than pride, nor scorns more than disdain. She rightly considers how her days are mensurable, being but a span long, which implies her brevity; and miserable, being altogether vanity She disclaims that state which consists in scornful looks; A sweet and affable Countenance she ever bears: The honour she enjoys makes her humbler; and the praises which are given her, work in her thoughts no distemper. So fare is she from affecting the pomp of this world, as it grows contemptible to her higher-mounting thoughts. A fair and well-seeming retinue she ever keeps about her: but none of these must be Sycophants, with their oily tongues to delude her; neither must any, who clothes his Countenance with scorn, attend her. She observes on what steep and dangerous grounds ambition walketh. Her sleeps are sweeter; her content higher; her thoughts heavenlier. It is one of her greatest wonders, that any one should be so rest of understanding, as to forget what infirm ground he stands on. The purest Creature, be she never so absolute in her feature, is of no richer temper than Earth, our Common-mother. She is wiser than to prefer a poor handful of red Earth before her choicest treasure. Though her deserts merit honour, she disesteemes her own deservings; being highly valued by all but herself. Thus she prepares herself daily for what she must go to. Her last day is her every days memorial. Lower may her body be, when interred; but lower cannot her mind be, than at this instant. So well hath she attained the Knowledge of herself, as she acknowledgeth all to be frail, but none frailer than herself.  
Here, Gentlewomen, have ye heard in what especial Objects you are to be Honourable Precedents. You shine brighter in your Orb than lesser Stars. The beams of your reflecting virtues must admit of no Eclipse. A thousand eyes will gaze on you, should they observe this in you. Choice and select are the societies you frequent, where you see variety of fashions: imitate not the newest, but neatest.  
Let not an action proceed from you, which is not exemplary good. These that are followers of your persons, will be followers likewise of your lives. You may wean them from vice, win them to virtue, and make them your constant followers in the serious practice of piety. Let your virtues cloth them within, as their veils do without. They deserve not their wage, who desist from imitating you in actions of worth. Your private family is a familiar Nursery; Plants of all sorts are there bestowed. Cheer and cherish those that be tender; but curb and correct those that be of wilder temper. Free and fruitful Scions cannot be improved, till the luxurious branches be pruned. But above all things; take especial care that those vices spread not in you, which are censured by you. You are Soveraignesses in your families; neither extend your hand too much to rigour; neither contract it by showing too much remissness or favour. Let neither virtue pass unrewarded, nor vice, if it grow domineering, pass unreproved. Fowl enormities must admit of no Privileges. No; should you, by a due examination of yourselves, find any bosome-sinne secretly lurking, any subtle familiar privately encroaching, any distempered affection dangerously mutining: Be your own Censors. Be not too indulgent in the favouring of yourselves. Proficients you cannot be in the School of virtue, unless you timely prevent the overspreading growth of vice. Let not your Sun, the light of your soul be darkened, Let not your Spring, the fount of your virtues be troubled; Let not your Fame, the perfume of your Honour be impaired. As you are generous by descent, be gracious by desert. Precedents are more powerful than Precepts. Be examples of goodness, that you may be heirs of happiness. The style you enjoy, the state you retain, the statues which after you may remain, are but glorious trophies of fading frailty. Virtue's are more permanent Monuments than all these; these are those sweet flowers that shall adorn you living, impale you dying, and Crown you with comfort at your departing. Lastly, as you were honourable Personages on Earth, where you were Precedents of goodness, so shall you be glorious Citizens in heaven, where you are to be Participants of all happiness.  
WHere Virtue is sown in a noble Seed-plot, 
Virtue or vice whethersoever takes hold first, retains a deeper impression in honour, than any lower subject.  manured and fructified by good discipline, strengthened by Example, and adorned with those more graceful parts, which accomplish the subject wherein virtue is seated: what bicker of fortune will it sustain? What Conflicts in the necessities of nature will it cheerfully encounter? Her spirit is raised above any inferior pitch. Yea, the habit of goodness hath wrought such divine impressions in her soul who is thus disposed; as society may improve her, but cannot corrupt her, because a zealous affection to virtue doth possess her.  
You shall ever observe these, whom Nobility of blood hath advanced, to retain some seeds or semblances of their progenitors, which are so impressive in them, as no occurrent, be it never so violent, can estrange these from them. Here you shall see a native affability, or singular art of winning affection, to one naturally derived. There in another such a rough and unseasonable austerity, as her very countenance is the resemblance of a Male●ola. Some from their infancy have retained such a sweet and pleasing Candour, as they could cover anger with a cheerful smile, and attemper passion with a graceful blush. Besides, they had the gift to expostulate with their discontents, and by applying seasonable receipts to their wounds, free themselves from falling into any desperate extremes. Others would rather dye, then suffer the expressions of their Passions to dye. For affronts, as their spirits could not bear them, so did their actions discover them, and make them objects of derision to such as observed them. And whence proceeds all this? Surely, from the very first relish of our humours; 
Arist. 3. de anima.  when that unwrought Table of youth, becomes furnished with choice characters; and the Subject gins to affect what is engraven in them; by continuance of time they become so habituate, as no art can make them adulterate. Sempr●nia was too light in her youth, to be stayed in her age. Fulvia gave too much way to her passion in her youth to attemper it in her age. Xanthippe was too shrewd a maid, to become a quiet wife. What Nature hath not effected in us, may by industry be facilitated in us, so we begin to work, while the wax is soft. O Gentlewomen, how many, whose excellent endowments deserve admiration, either by self-opinion have become transported, or by giving lose reines to passion, have miserably wandered, or by inveighing against others more deserving parts, have wittingly transgressed? By which means, they become spectacles of contempt, who otherwise by their conceiving discourse might have given occasion of content. It is too true, that the liberty of greatness is such, as it is more apt to find fuel to feed the humour of vice, then to minister any useful ingredience for the recovery of virtue. Great minds are many times sick of great maladies, which by soothing parasites become insensible, and consequently incurable. Vice in a poor habit never retains that majesty, which it displays in a richer rob. Is it so? Reflect then upon yourselves; if vice seem so specious, what will virtue do. (Though all your virtues be but indeed specious vices.) Believe it, if you cherish virtue in your minority, she will perform the office of a faithful guardian. The widow's tears shall be very few, for she will find justice to redress her: the Orphan's cries shall not be so loud, she will find compassion to cheer her. The State shall not exclaim of surfeits, for temperance shall shield her: nor the Church of coldness, for zeal shall inflame her: What a sweet consort is an unison of virtues to the ear of a divine soul? All other Music is disrelishing, because it works not on the affection.  
Now would you know whence it comes, that virtue or vice, whethersoever takes hold first, retains a deeper impression in Honour, than in any lower subject? The reason is evident: As in their state or condition they are more eminent, so is their representative example in others more inherent. Do these honourable personages than love virtue? they are virtuous moulds unto their followers: they shall find in their shadows what they express in themselves. julia could not be lose, when Lucretia was so chaste: she saw that in her Mistress, which deserved love, and to that she conformed the line of her life. To consort at unseasonable hours with lose lovers, or to entertain light discourse to beguile time, was no authentic doctrine in her Mistress family: no day was without her task, no night without her peculiar employment. There is no question, but the prime years of this noble Lady were seasoned with such exquisite instructions, as what her youth had received; were not in her riper years to be abolished. First motions have deep impressions: especially, when they become seconded by examples of authority, whose very persons impose on their Pupils a resistless necessity. The estimate of Honour, with those who are truly honourable, is at too high a rate to engage itself to the hazard of disgrace, for any temporary profit or delight. Their only profit is to become proficients in the practice of Virtue; Their highest delight, to subdue their delights to the obedience of reason, for the love of virtue. Such as these, are to be accounted only Noble; for their desires are so, which they ever ennoble with deserving actions For tell me, can any one whole judgement is not blinded, or inward light not wholly blemished, esteem that Person for honourable, whose Outside only magnifies itself in a poked head, a poland sleeve, and a protean body? No; these are but outward badges of their inward vanity. These have too much core at their heart, to be of sound health. If they have no other expressions to deblaze their honour, they are rather objects of Contempt than State, be they never so glorious to the eye of our vulgar.  
It hath been (and I could wish it were not to this day continued) an usual form of breeding, with some more eminent Persons, to have their Children practise a kind of state from their infancy; which, indeed, being truly defined, was a fantastic supercilious garb, which discovered more pride than deserved praise. Neither could these so easily relinquish in their age, what was commended to them in their youth. ●or such as commonly attended their persons, extolled whatsoever they saw by them, or 〈◊〉 them expressed, such is the misery of greatness, that if it be not an exact Censor and reprover of her own vanity; They shall find approvers of it by those odious professors of lycophancy, whose glozing condition hath been the ruin of many a noble family. For what may be the usual dialect of these Tam● Beasts to their bounteous Benefactors, those prodigal disbursers of their father's providence, but this parasitical parley? It would well become you, to be rarely seen, reservedly affable; to retain state in your peace, awe in your face, scorn in your eye, a storm in your brow, with a graceful contempt in all your carriage. An excellent direction to purchase hate. These followers are not for your honour. The way to divert their strain, is to affect what they distaste. You cannot want vicious Libertines to second you in a sensual course, if your own disposition stand so affected. Calphurnia could not be good, when Messalina was so nought. Your lives, as they are lives to yourselves, so should they be light● unto others. Are you modest? it will beget a love of modesty through all your family. Not one who owes their observance to you, but will admire this virtue in you, and practi●e it in themselves, because they see it so highly valued by you. Again; Lightness or any irregularity in you whatsoever, will not redound only to your own, but your whole family's dishonour. Which opinion once possessed, your Honour receives such a mortal wound, as no continuation of time (so lasting is the record of infamy) may perfectly cure it: which seems confirmed by our modern Poet: 
Search all thy books, and thou shalt find therein,  
That Honour is more hard to hold than win.   
How cautelous then ought you to be of that, which preserves your well being? Many nobly descended, are sufficiently instructed, how to retain their state, what place to take, by remembering whence they came; mean time, they forget whence they came first. O consider how this Speciosior p●luis, this more specious or seemingly precious dust of yours is but dust. Vice will but varnish it; it is virtue that will richly enamel it. Your birth rather restrains than improves your liberty; your sex should detract from itself, were it estranged from modesty; your beauty, honour, and all, are servants to time, or worse, if bestowed on vanity. Let virtue retain such deep impression in you, as no vicious affection may seize on you. Occasions are dangerous persuasions: prevent therefore the mean, that you may attain a more glorious end. That only deserves your love▪ which shall make you for ever live. Virtue, if you love her and live with her, by becoming your suruivor, will crown your happy memory with succeeding honour.  
IT is usually observed, that Hawks of one Airy, 
That virtue may receive the first impression by means of an inbred noble disposition, seconded by helps of Education.  are not of one nature; Some are more metalled, others more lazy. As in Birds, so in all other Creatures. Livia and julia, Augustus his daughters, were sisters, but of different natures. Some there are, who even from their infancy have such excellent seeds of native goodness sown in them, as their dispositions cannot relish aught that is irregular. In arguments of discourse, they are moderate; in Company temperate; in their resolves constant; in their desires continent; in their whole course or carriage absolute. Others naturally so perverse, that like our 
* These are described to life in the person of an humorous fantarticke in this pleasant Epigram.  humorous Laie●s, they can affect ●ought that others love, nor relish aught that others like. The bias of their fancy runs still on the fashion; their tongue a voluble Engine of feminine passion; their resolves full of uncertainty and alteration. The whole Interlude of their life a continued Act of femall-follies. It were hard to win these to the love of virtue, or those to delight in vice. This might ea●●ly be illustrated by diverse memorable instances, 
* Sic 〈◊〉 must eat her break fastis her bed, And is till noon in trimming of her head, and s●●s at table like a maiden-Bride, And takes all day of nothing but of pride, God may dae mu●● in mercy to save her, But what a c●se is he in tha● shall have her?  personated in such; who from their very Cradle, became seriously devoted to a religious privacy, supplying their want of books, wherein they were merely ignorant, with a devout and constant meditation of God's works, wherein they employed their whole study.  
Industrious were their hands in labouring, and bounteous were they in bestowing. A native compassion lodged in their hearts, which they expressed in their charitable works. Hospitality to the stranger and needy beggar, was their highest honour. Suffer they would the height of all extremes, ere they would suffer the desolate to want relief. So strongly were their affections fortified against the assaults of an imperious Lover; as death was to them a cheerful object to preserve their high-prized honour. Such singular effects as these, have been usually produced by an innate noble Disposition; so as, some of these whom we have here cursorily shadowed, were endowed with such virile spirits, as they sticked not to spit in the face of tyranny; others were not abashed to 
* This was formenly instanced in that memorable example of Sput●nia, pay. 104.  disfigure their own beauty, lest it should become an adulterer's booty. In these had virtue taken such deep impression, as nothing could deeply touch them, but what trenched on their reputation. Though by nature they were timorous, and inconstant, resolution had so prepared them, as they became discreetly valiant; looking death in the face without fear, and embracing her stroke as a favour. Do you admire this in them? Imitate them, and you shall be no less by succeeding times honoured, than these in ours admired. Conceive your life to be an intricate Labyrinth of affliction; the very anvil, whereon the heavy hammer of misery incessantly beateth. Reflect on your birth; and you shall perceive how you give the world a good morrow with grief; Look at your death; how you bid the world good night with a groan. joy then cannot be long lasting, when you are daily taking leave of the place where you live; which now, though living, you are leaving. Besides, no continued hope of comfort can be expected, where fear presents herself an inseparable attendant. 
Fear has command o'er subject and o'er King,  
Fear has no Fere, fear's an imperious thing.   
To allay which fear, address yourselves to that most, which may give you occasion of fearing least. And what may that receipt be? A mind purely refined from the corruption of this infectious time. Meditate therefore of that never fading beauty that is within you. Labour to preserve it from the injury of all encroaching Assailants. If you flis with any painted flourish of light Rhetoric woo her, timely prevent her before she win her. If the world with her Lure of honour, command, or the like, seek to draw her; reclaim her, lest vanity surprise her. If her professed Enemy labour to undermine her, make known his long-profest enmity unto her, that a vigilant circumspection may arm her. Admit, your dispositions become sometimes averse from the practice of that which you should most affect; divert the Current of them. You love liberty; confine it to moderate restraint. You affect honour, curb it with a serious meditation of your own frailty. You desire to gather; sow your bread upon the water▪ Charity will bring you quickly to a better temper. You admire gorgeous attire; remember the occasion how you first became clothed: had not sin been, these poor habiliments had never needed. Doth delicate fare delight you? Consider how it is the greatest misery to pamper that delicately, or cherish it with delicacy that is your mortal and professed enemy Do wanton Consort▪ work on your fancy? Cure betime, this dangerous frenzy. Avert your eye, lest it infect your heart: Converse with reason, and avoid nothing more than occasion. Do you find your affections troubled, or to passion stirred? Retire a little from yourselves; attemper that boiling heat which works so violently on you: and in the end, resolve thus; It will redound more to our honour to bridle anger, than to engage our discretions by giving reynes to our distemper. Can you not see your Neighbours fi●d flourish without an Envious Eye? Of all others, expulse this soon; because of all others, it partakes of the Devil the nearest. As you are commanded to love him as yourselves, so wish not that evil unto him, which you would not have to fall upon yourselves. Lastly, do you find a remissness in you to any employment that is good? 
Tob. 4. 15.  Shake off this natural dullness, and inflame your affections with a Divine ferventness. You have hitherto been slow in doing good, show that in doing ill. Mean time, with the wings of holy and heauenl● desires mount from earth to heaven; plant your affections above, though your pilgrim dimensions be here below. Which the better to facilitate, certain ever in your memory this devout Memorial or Meditation: Think whence you came, and be ashamed; 
Bern.  where you are, and be aggrieved; where you go to, and be affrighted.  
Every way wherein you wake, as it is full of snares, so should it be full of eyes. Those two roots of inordinate fear, and inordinate ●●ue, have brought many to the brink of misery, by plunging their minds in the puddles of vanity. Look about you; snares you shall find within you, snares without you. Snares on your right hand, and those deceitful; Prosperity in affairs temporal. In which, such persons are usually taken and surprised, by whom the benefits of God are abused. As the Rich, when he bestows his wealth in attiring himself sumptuously: the Mighty, in oppressing the needy; the Amorous or Lovely, in giving others occasion to be taken with their beauty: Whence the Lord by the mouth of his Prophet: Thou hast made thy beauty abominable. Snares likewise on your Left hand, and those fearful; adversity in affairs temporal. In which the poor, infirm, and afflicted are entangled and miserably in thralled: who by suffering affliction impatiently, cur●e God, their Neighbours, and themselves in their adversity: Whence that D●uine and devout Father ●aith: In affliction the wicked detest God, and 
Aug. lib. 1. de Civit. Dei.  blaspheme him: but the godly pray unto him, and praise him.  
Now, virtuous Gentlewomen, whose titles do not so much transport you, as your love to goodness doth inflame you; you may hence observe, how noble and generous dispositions, which indeed, are properly defined equal or temperate disposers of the affections, have and do ever receive the first impressions of virtue; which are with constancy retained, as they were cheerfully received. Express then this Nobility of your well-disposed natures in affecting what is good. Vice throws her aspersions on no subject so much as on Honour. Relinquish then rather all state, than it should retain the least stain. Much is promised by your disposition; and no less by your Discipline or Education. Your well-seasoned youth was never known to that rudeness, which more rural or servile states were bred in. Second these rising hopes of inward happiness. You are fruitlessly great, if you be not fruitfully good. Every moment wafts you nearer your haven; let every action draw you nearer heaven. If you fear at any time to wander, Religious fear will be your Conductor. If you doubt the issue of your Encounter, steadfast patience will be your Encourager. If you distrust your own strength, you are securer; humility will crown you with honour, and direct you to an happy harbour. As inbred noble dispositions have then enriched you, which by helps of Education are seconded in you, profess yourselves lovers of virtue by your affections, advancers of virtue by your actions; that as honour attends your persons, fame may crown your names, felicity your souls.  
What remains then, 
Virtue reduced to b●bit, aspires to perfection▪  to perfect this absolute Masterpiece of honour; but that ye reduce to habit, and consequently to their best improvement, these initiate seeds of goodness sown in your native disposition, grown by succession, and ripened through Education? Now are ye in the way, and daily nearer the end of your work. Your unconfined souls must ever be aspiring, till they come to their perfection. There is nothing under heaven, that can satisfy a ●ou●e created for heaven. Are you Virgins? Let ●our Virgin-Lamps be fed with the Oil of Charity. Be ready before the Bridegroom call you; yea, call on him before he call you. Let not your Virgin-vayles be veils for vices. Entertain not a light thought, lest by degrees it spread to a sin. In suffering Ishmael to play with you, though her sport seem in jest; your ruin will prove in earnest. Eye not that Object, which may enthrall you; hear not that Subject, which may corrupt you; relish not that Delight, which may deprave you; admit not of that conceit, which may delude you.  
Retort a light discourse with a Maiden-blush; 
Candida virgineis miscuit ora rofis.  it argues a spotless soul. He well described a Virgin's prime beauty, who displayed it in shamefast modesty. Let your good name be such a precious ointment as you would not spill it for a world.  
Are you Matrons? Enlarge yourselves by instruction unto the younger; this is the office of a Reverend Mother. Derive some portion of that knowledge unto others, which you fruitfully received from others. Your lives must be their lines. Every action of yours is exemplar; take heed then, it lead not into error. As you are ripe in years, so appear rich in hours. Remember not a sin without a sigh; nor a toy without a tear. There is no sin more odious, because none more insolently glorious, than to remember sins committed with joy, and apprehend them with delight. Your families should be virtues Nurseries, wherein yourselves are to be Governesses and Precedents of goodness. 
Aug. in Epist.  Here you are to teach your children in the trade of their ways, that when they are old, 
Prou. 22. 6.  they may not departed from them.  
Briefly, are you young or old? Esteem no life sweeter, than when every day improves you and makes you better. Delights, as they may moderately cheer you, so let them not play too much on your fancy, lest they take you: Be not commanded by them, but command them. The only means to wean you from them, or make you more indifferent for them, is to fix your affections on those which do infinitely surpass them. There is no comparison betwixt a Palace and a Prison. Neither betwixt finite & infinite is there any Proportion. O how happy were you, if with spiritual eyes you might once behold, how the Princes go before, joining with the Singers, and in the midst, young Damsels dancing!  
The way to contemplate these, and consort with these, is to meditate of heaven, which enjoyeth all these. Here no pleasure, be it never so promising; no delight, be it never so relishing; no recreation, be it never so refreshing; but though it cheer you in the beginning, it cloys you in the end. Last day, you were at Court; where revels, reere-bankets, shows, and solemnities, were objects to your Eyes, Ears, a●d Tastes: but all these are vanished. This day, you Coach to th' Exchange; where you see all kind of vanities set at sale, that may any way soil a deluded soul: but the night clozeth the day, which makes them shut up shop, and then all those vanities are shroaded. Next day, you go to a Play; wherein you expect some new Scene of mirth, or some State-action lively presented: but the last Exit, your impreze of frailty, dismisseth you, and then all those artful presentments, which gave so much content, are removed. Thus you run in a maze, while you lay the Scene of your Mirth on Earth. Recollect then you● d●uided thoughts; seat there the delight o● your mind, where you may find a continued Mirth. Earth is too low a Stage for an Act of that Majesty; and too stra●ght to give your best guest content within her Mad-wals of misery. Let not one hour pass by you, which is not well past.  
Consider, how the eyes of heaven are upon you; how that generous stem, from whence you were derived, expects much from you. The former injoines you upon hope of a future reward, to be more cautelous; The latter, as you tender the honour of your house, to be virtuous. Besides, know (Noble Ladies) that all the port or state-magnificence which this inferior Globe can afford you, clozeth ever with more discomfort than content, be your persons never so seemingly happy, nor happily secure, that do enjoy them. Yea, how happy had many Eminent personages been, had they never been taken with this Shadow of happiness? Conclude then, for this conclusion will beseem you, and in your highest ascent of honour incomparably secure you: 
Honour is virtue's harbour; only those  
Styled great, are virtues friends, and vices foes.   
That glorious Light of the Church, an industrious Searcher and judicious Censor of Antiquities, S. Augustine, saith, That anciently the Romans worshipped Virtue and Honour for gods. Whence it was, that they built two Temples, which were so seated, as none could enter the Temple of Honour, unless he had first passed through the Temple of Virtue: to signify that none was to be honoured, unless by some Virtue he had first deserved it. The Moral admits no other exposition than its own expression. For Honour, none should be so daring bold as to woo her, till by passing thorough Virtue's Temple, he get admittance unto her.  
If you desire to be great, let it be your height of ambition to aspire to honour in the Court of Virtue. Where the lowest cannot be less than a Lady of Honour, because the lowest of her actions correspond with Honour. Such a service were no servitude but a solace. Admit, that sometimes you affected foreign fashions, now let foreign Nations admire your virtues. Perchance, the delicacy of your nature, or misery of a long prescribed custom will not so easily at the first be wholly weaned, from what it hath for so many years affected. Use then an easy restraint at the first; withdraw your affections from vanity by degrees; reserve some select hours for private Devotion; check your fancy's, when they dote on aught that may distract you. The first Encounter will be hardest; Time will bring you to that absolute sovereignty over your passions, as you shall find a singular calmness in your affections. What a brave Salic State shall you then enjoy within your own Commonwealth? Vigilancy becomes Warden of your Cinque Ports; not an invasive foreigner dare approach, while she with watchful eyes waits at the Port. All your followers, are vertu●s savorites. Piety guides you in your ways; Charity in your works. Your Progenitors deserved du● praise, but you surpass them all. Thus shall you revive the ashes of your families, and confer on them surviving memories. But, it is the ●uening Crowns the day; sufficient it is not to diffuse some few reflecting beamelins of your virtues, at your first rising, and darken them with a Cloud of vices at your setting. As your days and more in number, so must they be every day better. What avails it the Mariner to have taken his Compass wisely, to have shunned rocks and places of danger warily, and at last to run on some shelf, when he should now arrive at the ●ay where he would be? Rocks are ever nearest the shore, and most tentations nearest your end. If you resolve then to come off fairly, prepare your ●elues for some encounter daily; observe your exercise of devotion duly; resist assaults constantly; that you may gain a glorious victory. This is all the Com●●at that is of you desired; wherein many of your s●x● have nobly deserved. Stoutly have they combated, and sweetly have they conquered. Emulate their virtues, imitate their lives, and enjoy their loves. So may you with that Pattern of patience dye in your own Nests, and multiply your days as the Sand: So may your virtues, which shone so brightly in these Cour●s of Earth, appear most glorious in those Courts of heaven. So may these Scattered flowers of your fading beauty, be supplied with fresh flowers of an incorruptible beauty; yea, the King himself shall take pleasure in your beauty; who will come like a glorious Prince out of his Palace of royal honour, to grace you; like a Specious Spouse out of his Nuptial Chamber, to embrace you. Mean time, fear not death, but smile on him in his entry; for he is a guide to the good, to conduct them to glory. Conclude your resolves with that blessed Saint; in hope no less confident, than in heart penitent: We have not lived so in the world, 
Ambros.  that we are ashamed to live longer to please God: and yet again, we are not afraid to dye, because we have a good Lord. Short is your race, near is your rest: Only, let the loss of earth be your gain, the love of God your goal; and Angelical perfection, ●o which your constant practice of pretty and all Christian duties have so long aspired, your Crown.  
The fear of the Lord is a pleasant Garden of blessing, there is nothing so beautiful as it is, Eccles. 40. 27.  
Trin-uni Deo omnis gloria.   

A Gentlewoman, 
Character   
IS her own Tirewoman; one that wears her own face; and whose complexion is her own. Her journals lie not for th' Exchange, needless visits, nor Reere-bankets. Shows and presentments she views with a civil admiration; wherein her harmless desire is, rather to see than be seen. She ha●es nothing so much as entering parley with an immodest Suitor. Retire from occasions draws her to her Arbour: where the sole object of her thoughts is her Maker. Her eyes she holds her professed foes, if they send forth one lose look; tears must sue out their pardon▪ or no hope of reconciliation. Her resort to the Court, is for occasion, not fashion: where her demeanour ever gives augmentation to her honour. Her winning modesty becomes so powerful a Petitioner, as she ever returns a prevailing Suitor. During her abode in the City, she neither wears the Street, nor wearies herself with her Coach; her Chamber is her T●ring-roome, where she bethinks her how she may play her part on the world's Theatre; that she may gain applause of her heavenly Spectators. Her constant reside is in the Country; where hospitality proclaims her inbred affection to works of piety. All which she exerciseth with that privacy, as they will witness for her, she fears nothing more than vainglory. In her house she performs the office of a Mistress, no imperious governess. She knows when to put on a smooth brow, and to cherish industry with moderate bounty. Her discreet providence makes her family look with a cheerful countenance: Her posterity cannot choose but prosper, being nursed by so natural a mother. The open field she makes her Gallery; her Labourers, her living Pictures; which, though she finds mere Pictures, hanging on, rather than labouring, Passion transports her not above herself, nor forceth her to the least expression unworthy of herself: she passeth by them with a modest reproof, which works in them a deeper impression, than any fiery or furious passion: Her Neighbours she daily woos and wins: which she effects with such innocent affability, as none can justly tax her of flattery. An Overseer for the poor she appoints herself, wherein she exceeds all those that are chosen by the Parish. She takes a Survey daily and duly of them, and without any charge to the Hamlet, relieves them. She desires not to have the esteem of any She-clarke; she had rather be approved by her living, than learning: And hath ever preferred a sound professant before a profound disputant. A precedent of piety she expresseth herself in her family, which she so instructs by her own life, as virtue becomes the object of their love. Her task she sets herself daily, which she performs duly▪ Her own remissness, (if any such be) she reproves by so much more than observe her, could be well content to serve her. She is generous in all; Not a Look but gives Life to Love; and that so virtuously disposed, as not a light thought can distract it. Her very motion is a moving direction; She never learned to tinkle with her feet, to wander with her eyes, to stain her spotless honour with a painted blush. All she doth is her own; All her own doth incomparably please; which she clozeth with this impreze: Loving Modesty is a Living Beauty.  
COMPLIMENT she admits, but not that which this Age affects; she prefers Substance before mere formality. Pith before the Rind, Performance before Ceremony. She distastes nothing so much as that Court's sustian; which, in her esteem, is quite out of fashion, your Servant's Servant. She cannot protest in jest, nor profess what she means not in earnest. She cares not for this Rhetorical varnish, it makes a good cause suspicious; her desire is to express herself in action more than discourse. That COMPLIMENT which consists in congees, cringies, and salutes, dis●ell●sheth her palate most: it tastes too much of the Cask; for the rest she is secure, so her actions be really pure; herself completely honest. Thus she sums up her days, makes virtue her praise, this her Impreze; Civil Compliment, my best Accomplishment.  
DECENCY is her native Livery; though she make no shadow of it, her own shadow is not more individuate. In her attire she is not so sumptuous as seemly, not so costly as comely; in her discourse she delivers her mind not so amply as fully, not so quickly as freely; in her whole course she expresseth her inward beauty. Her Glass is not half so useful to herself, as the glass of her life is to others. Whatsoever is worn by her, receives a singular grace from her. Her fashion is never out of request; though more constant in it, than the Age would admit. She life's to bring time into some better tune: this is her task in every place; this is that which crownes her with peace; while she deviseth this for her impreze: Virgin-Decency is Virtue's Livery.  
ESTIMATION is that precious odour whi●h gives sweetness to her honour. die had she rather with it, than enjoy an Empire and live without it. It is the Goal of all her actions. The Crown of all her Labours. Poverty she holds an incomparable blessing, so her name be enriched by ESTIMATION: No dead Fly can corrupt that Ointment. Happy needs must be her State, that preserves this without Stain. This she feeds not with the i●yce of vainglory; nor seeks to augment it with a fabulous story. Many have purchased praise in Oily lines, that never merited applause all their lives. Her desire is to be, rather than seem, lest seeming to be what she is not, she gull the world, but herself most, by playing the counterfeit. Resolute is she in this her Impreze: My prize is her own praise.  
FANCY she entertains with a cheerful but chaste bosom. Though Love be blind, her love has eyes. No less faithfulll is she in retaining, than doubtful in entertaining. Protests are dangerous Lures to credulous Lovers, but her FANCY is too stayed to stoop unto them. She can love well, but lest she should repent soon, and that too late, she will try before she trust, have some reason to like before she love. She holds that FANCY ● Frenzy, which ●s only led by Sense. She makes reason her guide, that Content may be her Goal. Long time she debates with Love, before ever she give Love her heart; which done, she confirms the bargain with her hand. Her Constancy she displays in this Impreze: My Choice admits no Change.  
GENTLITY is not her boast, but that which dignifies that title most. Virtue is her sovereigness; in whose service to live and die she holds the absolutest happiness. Gentry she thinks best graced by affability: To be surly, derogates as much from her worth, as baseness from Nobility of birth. Her Lineage is best distinguished by her Crest, her ●orth by herself. Her desert gives life to her descent. Not an action comes from her, but excellently becomes her. She ever reflects on the House from whence she came, whose antiquity she ennobles with numerous expressions of piety, from the rising height of which increase, she draws this Christian Impreze: Desert Crowne● Descent.  
HONOUR she deserves more than desires; This she may admit, but not admire. Weak she holds that foundation of HONOUR, where virtue is not a supporter. The more HONOUR that is conferred on her, makes her the humbler; she clothes not her Look with a disdainful scorn, nor clouds her brow with an imperious frowned Fare more esteems she the title of goodness than greatness. She holds nothing more worthy of her approving, than a daily drawing nearer to Perfection, by her virtuous living. Her whole Pilgrimage is nothing else than to show unto the world what is most requisite for a gre●t Personage. In a word, shall we take a review of her Noble carriage in each of our Observances? For the first, she is fashionably neat; for the second, formally discreet; for the third, civilly complete; for the fourth, amiably decent; for the fifth, precious in repute; for the sixth, affectionately constant; for the seventh, generously accommodated; for the eighth, honourably accomplished. Whence it is, that she impales her diurnal race with this imperial Impreze: Honour is Virtue's Harbour.  
Go on, then, she may with Honour, seeing the King in her beauty takes such pleasure. A Divine presage of promising goodness was her infancy; A continuate practice of piety was her youth and maturity; The close of her Pilgrimage a calm passage from frailty to felicity. Long would the earth keep her, but so should she be kept from that which she values fare better. Her Husband cannot stay long behind, seeing his better part is gone before.  
FINIS.    

EMBLEM.  
SOme hold these Observations to be long,  
Some more judicious, hold them to be short,  
Thus are they censured be they right or wrong;  
What should we then make Censure but a sport,  
Since good or bad, we're ne'er the better for't?  
Which to attemper, I should think it best,  
Virtue were Censor in each Author's breast.