THE MORAL Philosophy of the Stoics.  
Written in French, and englished for the benefit of them which are ignorant of that tongue.  
By T. I. Fellow of New-Colledge in Oxford.  
Non quaero quod mihi utile est, sed quod multis.  
AT LONDON Printed by Felix Kingston, for Thomas man..  
1598.   

TO THE RIGHT HONOURABLE SIR Charles Blunt, Lord Mountioy, Knight of the most noble order of the Garter, Captain of Portsmouth, and one of her majesties Lieutenants for the County of South.  
T. I. wisheth increase and continuance of honour and virtue.  
IF Christians in these days were as religious in dedicating of their books, as Heathen men in former time were superstitious in dedicating of their Churches, I doubt not but men would be as far from writing of books, as they are from building of Churches. In dedication of their Temples they were (as it is reported) too curious; in dedicating of our books we are (as it appeareth) too negligent. They regarded time, place, circumstance and person; we neither respect time, place, circumstance nor person. Indeed the three former do not much concern us at all, but as for the last it should be the first thing which is to be considered in every book: for it sufficeth not that the book be well written, unless the person to whom it is written be fitting and agreeable with the book. For as the Heathens never, or seldom ●imes, dedicated their Temples to men touched with the same infirmities that they were, but either ●nto the person of some great god or goddess, who might if need were, be able to defend them: so should not we commit our labours and works unto their patronage and protection which are but simply men, scarce able for to help themselves: but unto such as either for their virtues sakes are better than men, as Aristotle saith, or else by reason of their places and offices in the Commonwealth, are far above all other men in dignity, and equal unto GOD himself (as the Scripture testifieth) in name. This respective care (Right Honourable) hath not somewhat, but altogether persuaded me to offer up this small book of Moral Philosophy (which I translated as well upon just commendations of the author, as also upon entreaty of my kind friend a learned Doctor of Divinity) into your honours hands: not as if I meant to interpret the same unto your Lordship, which better knoweth the French tongue and other languages than myself, or most men do: but for as much as this small book had great need of some worthy Patron, and none more worthy than your Honour was to be found, whether your rare virtues be to be regarded, or the place which you hold with honour in this Commonwealth: it seemed good therefore unto me to use your Lordship's name above all others for patronage of this book, if it shall need defence, as doubtless it will, though it were never so well written (as it is most excellently compiled in French) such is the private malice of certain evil men, and common destiny of all good writers. For who is he that will regard a book if it be little? so little do men consider the goodness of things, when they measure all things by greatness: as if David were not little when he slew Goliath the giant; the cloud little which threatened all Israel with rain; the oil little in the pitcher which filled all the empty vessels of the widow. And as that oil was little until the time that it was powered forth: so small books when they come abroad into men's hands, if they be furnished with doctrine, are of great power to convert men unto p●etie and godliness. The title of this book is, The Moral Philosophy of the Stoics. Let it not seem strange unto us that Philosophy should be a means to help Divinity, or that Christians may profit by the Stoics. Indeed the licentious looseness of our times cannot well brook the stri●●nes of this sect. The Stoics are as odious unto some men, as they themselves are hated of others: they call the professors hereof in their gibing manner stocks, and not Stoics, because of the affinity of their names. And I pray why may not we call them wizards as well as wise men by the same reason? Philosophy in general is profitable unto a Christian man, if it be well and rightly used: but no kind of philosophy is more profitable and nearer approaching unto Christianity (as S. Hierome saith) than the philosophy of the Stoics. Let us then that are Christians follow them as far forth as they have followed the truth: for truth, as a learned writer saith, Vndecung, est à spiritu sancto est: from whence or whom so ever it comes cometh from the holy Ghost. The Israelites when they departed from the Egyptians stole away their jewels: we are permitted to use the words and sentences of the Heathen writers to our purpose in case of doctrine and exhortation, but as it were by stealth very warily and sparingly, as S. Pa●l used for to do. This liberty Master Caluin in his Commentary upon those places liberally granteth us, and I suppose it cannot lawfully be denied: for gold and silver and precious jewels were ever used as ornaments in the old law to deck and garnish the Temple withal. As for the words of the Apostle, which biddeth us to beware of philosophy lest they beguile us, they are most profitabl● for our instruction, to teach us not to attribute more unto philosophy, than philosophy or the Arts deserve. Abraham was married unto Sarah, Hagar was but his handmaid, or at the most but his concubine, yet both lived with him in the same house, and lay with him in the same bed. Every Christian must endeavour to be as Abraham was married unto Sarah, that is, unto Divinity: for Sarah signifieth a Lady and mistress, and who fit to be Lady and mistress than Divinity, which must be attended on with Philosophy, which is in stead of Hagar her handmaid, which must be used no otherwise then as a concubine or as a stranger, as her name in the original betokeneth. If Philosophy, with her young son Ishmael the Ar●s, begin to despise Divinity, as Hagar despised Sarah, she must be cast forth to be taught her obedience abroad, which she might as well ●aue learned at home. But wherefore need all these words? why do I go about to persuade your Honour unto the embracing of this kind of Heathen divinity, which is better known together with the right use thereof unto your godly wisdom, than my foolish ignorance can inform you? Doth not the temperance of your well-governed life and sober discipline in manners show that you are a perfect Philosopher, not in word only but in deed also? There be many which are Stoics in the schools, as Arrian upon Epictetus noteth, but are Epicures at home; that speak well in public, but live ill in private: your Honour is right well known to be ●one of these. For your life in private is answerable unto your life in public, and your words agreeable with your deeds. And whence proceedeth all this, if a man should search the fountain of all your actions, but from the fountain and lively source of all true learning? which is so united and engrafted into your stock, that few have been of your kind, which have not been either greatly learned, or great lovers & embracers of learning● so that learning cometh unto your Honour, as the Priesthood did unto the levites, by ●●ght of succession from the father unto the son. Continue therefore (Right Honourable) continually to cherish the Arts, and love learning and learned men, as you have done: and amongst the rest let the worthy work of this noble Gentleman of France, whose name is not as yet known in England, have a small room among your other books, till such time as the French copy be to be had, which now is hardly to be gotten: and so as there is joy in your honours name in this life, so shall you most assuredly in the next world, your name being written in the book of life, have joys without end: which God grant, to whom I leave your Lordship: humbly craving pardon of the same for my boldness.  
Your Honours in dutil ever to command, TH. JAMES.   

To the French Reader.  
MEn that are thankful unto us for former benefits, do bind us as it were by way of obligation to follow them with second courtesies: even God himself which hath no other subject to give unto us but for exercising of his bounty, asketh nothing for recompense of all his favours, but a dutiful and hearty acknowledgement of the same. For as he seethe we make account of his favours, so doth he multiply the same upon us: what then ought man to do for man, and one citizen for another; seeing that he cannot do so much good for him, but he must needs owe him a great deal more? Wherefore, seeing the Manuel of Epictetus, which I lately sent unto you so generally well esteemed and liked, I have been encouraged again the second time to offer up unto you this small Treatise, which is of the same stuff, but a little better laboured. And sending the whole treatise unto you, I have thought good to send these letters of advertisement along with it; for fear, lest if it chance to light into certain malicious persons hands (such as there are too many now adays in this world) the book might happen to be injuried before it were fully read or perused. These shall be therefore to advertise you, and as many as shall happen to read this book, that it is nothing else but the self same Manuel of Epictetus own making, which I have taken in pieces, and transposed according to that method and order which I have thought most convenient; having gathered together certain precepts, sentences, and examples of divers others, which have been of the same sect; and bound them up together in certain small and short discourses, which I have thought most fit and proper, to give light unto that which was before in their doctrine somewhat dark and obscure: in such sort, that it may serve for the present, in stead of a summary treatise or short abridgement of all the moral doctrine of the Stoics. Now I do not present you their opinions, as if I could warrant them for good: and lest of all, so recommending them unto you, as if upon the sight and view of them, you should wholly betake yourself unto this profane and puddle water, leaving the clear and sacred fountain of God's word, from whence all holi● and wholesome precepts of manners & discipline must be drawn: but only to let you understand, that they have been and will be a reproach unto us Christians, who being borne and bred in the true light of the Gospel, shall see and perceive how many there be that ha●e been lovers and earnest embracers of virtue even ●midst the times of darkness and ignorance. Now as concerning this small labour of mine, which hath been employed only in disposing of the matter, and finding out of words; I present it unto you, as Appelles and Policletus did their tables and Images, with the pencil and carving knife in my hand, ready to reform whatsoever men of more profound and delicate judgements shall think good to be amended: never thinking that my labour is thoroughly ended, till such time as it shall please all them which are accounted m●n of good judgement. Peradventure they shall find in this treatise many things worthy to be corrected, yet notwithstanding I hope they shall have cause to thank me (if their bringing up be not altogether rustical and uncivil) for striving to enrich my native tongue with the spoils of strangers, and making the hard and sharp thorns of this kind of Philosophy tractable, and able to be h●●ndled and touched of the most dainty and tender hands of my countrymen. And this favour if I may be so happy as to obtain at their hands, I shall not think my labour and watchings ill employed: for I shall have g●tten the greatest honour whereunto my ambitious thoughts may aspire; which is to be known to be a lover of my country, and seeker of her good. And being not able otherwise (to my great grief and sorrow I speak it) to testify my love unto her, I comfort her as well as I may in her calamity, c●asing not to ●ake my daily prayers unto GOD for her good and welfare. God almighty, to whose fatherly protection I no● leave her, make her as happy and fortunate, as she is honest and well-meaning.   

The Moral Philosophy of the Stoics.  
THere is nothing in the world, which tendeth not to one end or other: yea, even things insensible do advance themselves (as it seemeth) and make themselves fit for that use, unto the which they do properly belong: and being applied thereunto, do show forth a kind of joy, and seem to have a feeling of the perfection and happiness of their estates. Things that have action in them, move of themselves in such sort as we see; all creatures in general, and every one severally in his kind, with great vehemency & contention, followeth and pursueth after that, for which they are borne & bred, and do most certainly rejoice and exult in the fruition of that which they seek, when they have found it out. What then ought man to do, upon whom nature, besides this inclination and motion which dead things do partake with him, hath endued with sense, and over and beside sense, which is common to him and other creatures, hath given the benefit of discourse and reason, to be able to discern and choose the best things of all things which present themselves unto his consideration, and that which is most fit and proper to his use? May we not safely conclude, that man also hath his end, as well as all other creatures; which is set before him as the furthermost mark and butt, whereto all his actions should be directed: and sithence that the happiness of all things is their perfection, and their perfection the fruition of their end, shall not the happiness and felicity of man consist in the ●ul obtaining and attaining unto that which is proposed unto him, and whereunto all his actions are to be referred? Now the end of man and of all his thoughts & meditations is good. And truly, there is not one amongst many, so divers in nature and condition of life, which desireth not that which is good, and escheweth not that which is evil: and being demanded wherefore he doth this or that, answereth not, but that he doth it, or thinks that he doth it for his good and welfare. And albeit in our actions, a man may find a great many more bad than good; yet the general intention, whereby we are directed and guided, is to come unto that which is good. But as it fareth many times with him which aimeth at a mark, if his sight be hindered, either by some disease of the eye, or fault in the air, or if he take one thing for another, although he desire to hit the mark, so that he covet nothing more, yet it is impossible but he should be wide from it: so likewise we, because we do not know wherein consisteth our good, but oftentimes take that which is about it, for it; do therefore in our particular actions take our aim amiss, and shoot wide from our general mark and intention.  
Good, in good truth, is not so placed that all the world may see and perceive it; nature hath sowed and scattered here beneath amongst us certain weak and feeble sparklinges of that heat, which notwithstanding being rightly applied unto our minds, are able to kindle a pure light in them, and cause us to see good, as it is, and not as it seemeth. So then, we must seek it, and we shall find it; having found it, we must acknowledge it; acknowledging it, we cannot choose but love it; and loving it, we shall fasten all our desires thereunto, and enjoy it with great happiness. For even as truth presenting itself unto our understanding, is there entertained with great joy and contentedness: even so good offering itself unto our will, is received by her with great pleasure, as being her natural object. And therefore, I think, that if a man would properly define good, he must affirm it to be nothing else, but the essence & usage of a thing, according unto his nature. For this same nature is so prudent and provident a mistress, that she always disposeth all things unto their greatest good, and therefore hath given them a first motion unto that which is good, and unto that end which they should seek and search after: in such sort, that he that will follow after it, cannot choose but compass and obtain it. Now by the rules of nature, man should be so composed and fashioned, that that which is most excellent in him, should bear rule and command, and that reason should ●se all that which is presented unto her, as best beseemeth her, and shall most serve for her purpose.  
Well then, the good & happiness of man, consisteth in the right use of reason's and what is that but virtue, which is nothing else but a constant disposition of will, to follow that which is honest and convenient. There is no man, as I suppose, but will avouch this to be good: but yet for all that, there will be a great many found out, which will affirm, that herein only consisteth not man's good & happiness, but that he must have a sound and well disposed body, and a hundred more commodities, without the which it is not possible for man's life to be, much less to be happy and fortunate. But if our position which we have set down unto you at the first be true, (as true it is) that the end of every thing is his good, and his good is his end, and that these two are so reciprocable and convertible the one with the other, that the one cannot be without the other, then may we not justly say, that health, or riches, are man's good, seeing that they are not his end which he regardeth. For he cannot possess or use them, but to some other end. And so too, that the greatest part of his time, whilst he enjoyeth them, he cannot joy in them, but is with them unfortunate and unhappy: unless peradventure some man will say, that they are happy, which make their riches & health serve them (as they do full many in the world) to nourish their vices, and cherish them up in their wicked passions and affections. But happily will some man say, they do serve, as means and instruments disposed unto the attainment of this good, without the which it is not possible that a man should get it, and therefore by a necessary consequent they are to be accounted necessary, to the obtaining thereof, and therefore good. Truly it is a harsh and improper kind of speech, to call that good, which serves to the procurement and obtaining of that which is good; or that which is the subject and matter of good. For virtue, which we have proved before to be the true good, is of such a nature, that she can make her benefit indifferently of things contrary in nature, she profiteth and helpeth herself as well by poverty as by riches, by sickness as by health. For we do as much commend him that can patiently endure his poverty, and constantly bear his griefs or disease, as we do him that liberally bestoweth his goods, and being in health, honestly laboureth in his vocation. So that if you will needs call riches good, because they serve to the obtaining and getting of virtue, why may you not as well call poverty by the same name, seeing that it serves to the self same use, and that more profitably also? Now to call things so contrary and repugnant, as riches & poverty are, by the same name, hath not so much as any show or appearance of any truth. Wherefore, let all these things remain indifferent, as being made good or evil, by the mind of man which knoweth how to use them rightly, which if he want, yet will he not want the means of attaining unto his end, which is to be fashioned and framed rightly according unto reason, and to make use and benefit of all things which shall happen whatsoever, & consequently to purchase his chief good and felicity.  
If we will truly know wherein consisteth this good, let us consider within ourselves what that is which seeks it: for it must needs be the good of that part● Nothing seeks after that which is another's, unless it be coupled and joined with his own. Now then there is no doubt but that the beginning and first motion of all our actions cometh from the understanding and will, and therefore the good which we seek after, must needs be the perfection, rest and contentment of the same. But if we place riches and health in this account, and esteem them for things good, and by a consequent repute all things contrary unto them evil; what do we else, but testify unto all men, that there is no true felicity in this world, and that our minds are here held in perpetual torment? For a man must needs have death and grief continually before his eyes, both which are esteemed evils, and whereof one is oftentimes present with him, the other never ceaseth to threaten and menace him. If then they be things evil, the fear of them is just, & if he be always in fear, how can he be at any time happy? Let us therefore confess, that either man hath no good ordained and prepared for him in this world, which he may compass and attain unto, or else acknowledge, that this good doth wholly and entirely consist in virtue. For it must needs be that the end of every thing should be proportionable unto the strength and nature of the thing itself: for other wise, if the end were unpossible to be achieved, in stead of being man's good, it would turn to be man's further torment. And so he should nothing but labour and travail in vain, as the daughters of Danaus are said to do in hell, striving to fill certain bottomless vessels with water, which can hold no water at all. Again, if there be no Science nor Art in the world, which hath not one end or other limited her, which they may come unto by keeping of certain precepts and rules; what shall we think that nature, the mother of Arts and Sciences, hath proposed unto man (which is her chief work) an end, which it is unpossible for him to come unto, because it is out of his power?  
Will (as we say) is that which seeketh after our good: now a ruled and well governed will never coveteth (as indeed it ought not to do) but that which she may, and which it is in her power to procure, she busieth not herself about having of that which it is not in her power to have when she will; as health, riches, and honours. For if our good did consist and depend of them, we should not need to employ reason or will to the procurement of them, but we might as well compass them by prayers & wishes: for it is a thing which is subject unto a thousand casualties, which cannot be pr●●ented or fores●ene, as not being in our hands to dispose of them as we list, but subject unto the rule of Fortune their good Lady and mistress. What show or probability of reason is there I pray you in this, that Nature should so create man, the perfection of all other creatures, that his good, which is his perfection, should depend not only upon other matters, but upon so many things, that a man hath no hope to have them all favourable unto him; but that he should here beneath with Tantalus, lie miserable thirsting and crying after water. Nay doubtless, Nature doth offer you so much to the getting of this good, as a mind well disposed and fit to use any thing which shall be laid before it, and to pass over those things which do far pass his reach and capacity. Will you then rather choose to run unto Fortune, and wait at her deceitful hands for that good, which you may give unto yourself and if you will? For this is a divine and inviolable law, which hath been made since the beginning of the world, that if we will have any good, we must purchase and get it ourselves, by our own labour and industry. For nature hath provided a rich storehouse of all good things, and enclosed it in our minds: let us then but stretch forth the hands of our will, and we shall take as much as we will. For if the will of man be well guided and ordered, it will turn all things to her good, as M●das turned all things that he touched into gold. There is no accident so grievous, which can befall a man either in body or riches, whence a man may not reap some rest and comfort of mind: so that if we can here rest & content ourselves, we have already found out our end. For though we should remit so much of the severity of this sect, as to confess that the body or goods, which are but instruments of man's life, were a part of man's substance, and might by their quality alter the quality of the soul; yet may we not avouch this for good, that loss ●ither in goods or bod●e, is able to hinder the felicity and happiness of man, if his mind enjoy quiet rest and content.  
In things which are compounded of many parts, the most noble part giveth both name and laws unto the rest, and they take their denomination from her: what doubt then can there be, but that man should be wholly happy, if his mind enjoyeth his happiness. And so we say, that a Commonwealth is happy after a great victory, although there be many citizens lost, because the happiness thereof is measured by the person of the Prince, or else of the state, to the good and service of whom all the rest must be obedient. Hence is it that particular men do even glory in their wounds, do even brag and boast of them, if they have received them in the defence of either Prince or country. Shall we than assign unto the body any other motion or desire then that, by the which it referreth all things that come unto him, unto the joy and happiness of the mind? shall we, I say be so foolish as to link and knit the soul so fast unto the body, that the good thereof should remain as a slave within his members, and so far forth depend on them, that accordingly as the body should be well or ill disposed, the mind should be altered, and accounted either happy or unhappy? Truly, if so be that nature would have had man's happiness and perfection to have depended on his body, or consisted in his goods, she would have given unto all men like bodies, and like measure and quantity of goods: for so she should not have been partially but equal unto all, and so have passed from the general unto every particular of that kind. But on the contrary side, she having made all men of very divers natures and conditions, both in respect of their bodies, as also in regard of their goods, hath notwithstanding granted unto all men like power and ability of well using their bodies or riches of what sort soever they be, in such sort, that the action of the mind may be as honourable and glorious in one sort as in another: yea, the excellency thereof doth appear & shine forth more gloriously, and merit more praise then, when being destitute of means and instruments, he cometh of himself unto his wished end. For so in my opinion, we are to judge him to be the skilfuller pilot in a ship, which can in a great tempest, amidst the raging floods, guide an old sea-beaten ship full of holes, whose sails are rend, and ropes broken; then he which can tell how to govern a new ship well rigged and furnished with all necessaries, having wind at will, and seas favourable. Therefore we will here conclude this point thus: Seeing that the happiness of man doth lie in procuring of his good, and that his good is to li●e according unto nature; and to live according unto nature, is not to be troubled with any passions or perturbations of the mind, but so to behave himself, happen what happen may, as that he do not exceed patience, or pass the bounds of reason; that if we will be truly happy, we must purge our minds of all manner of passions, & learn how to be affected in mind towards all things which shall happen.  
Now there is nothing which can so soon set us in this way, and learn us how to obtain the right course of ordering our affections, minds and wills according unto reason, as Wisdom, which is (in my simple opinion) both the beginning and end of all virtues. For causing us to have an exact and true knowledge of the condition and quality of things which come into our considerations & views, she teacheth and telleth us what is according unto nature, and what not, and like wise what is to be desired and followed, or shunned and avoided. She removes all false opinions out of our heads which trouble our brains, makes our affections kind and natural, and finally upon her wait all other virtues, as being their mother, nurse, and keeper. O how happy would man's life be, if it were always led and guided by her direction? But alas, as this virtue is most fair and excellent, so she is most rare and hard to be found: for she is so hidden in the bottom of our minds, as the veins of gold lie secret in the bowels of the earth, and are found but in few places. This is (as I bele●ue) that great, stately, and impenetrable buckler which Vulcan forged for Achilles, wherein were engraven heaven & earth, the sea, clouds, stars, lightnings, cities, weapons, assemblies of people, and combats: and in a word, there was nothing in the world which was not there to be seen: signifying unto us by that device, that wisdom & the true knowledge of things, doth better preserve the mind of man from danger, than the buckler or helmet doth keep the body from wounds. But as Achilles went to school unto Chiron to learn the use of that buckler: so we must go to school to Philosophy, to know the right use of wisedoome. And if we will hearken unto her, she will tell us, that wisdom hath two properties and uses, the one to prick us forward to that which is good, the other to pull us back from following that which is evil. Now because when we come unto Philosophy, we do not bring with us a mind pure and neat, but already distempered, evilly disposed, and possessed with filthy humours, and such as are incident unto the common sort of people; because, I say, we come unto her as unto a skilful leech or cunning physician: therefore if we will be cured, we must do as surgeons do which have to do with sores and wounds, who before they apply any medicine or salve to cure them, do first draw out all the bad humours and dead flesh: and so must we also in like manner begin first of all to purge our minds of all such passions as do arise in them, and with the smoke of them darken and obscure the eye of reason: for otherwise precepts of manners and wholesome instructions would profit our souls as little, as plenty of meat doth a corrupted body, which the more you feed the more you offend.  
Now to know what these passions are, you must understand, that we do term them a viol●nt or vehement motion of the soul in the sensitive part, which is caused in the following or eschewing of that which seemeth to be either good or evil. For albeit there be but one soul in every one of us, which is the cause of life, & fountain of all our actions, and is all in all, and all in ●uery part: yet there be many faculties in the soul, which it is strange to see, how divers, yea how contrary they be many times one towards another, according unto the diversity of instruments and vessels where it is kept, and variety of objects which are offered unto her. In one place she causeth vegetation, in another motion, in another sense, in another desire or appetite, in another imagination, in another remembrance, in another reason and discourse: even as the Sun, which though he be all in his own essence, yet dividing and parting his beams in divers places, he bringeth heat to one place, and light to another, softeneth wax and hardens clay, scattereth the clouds, and drieth up standing pools and lakes. And when the parts where the soul lieth enclosed, doc retain and use her but in a proportion of their capacities, and as farr● forth as it is necessary for their convenient use, than she bringeth forth gentle, sweet, and orderly effects: but contrariwise, if her parts do take mor● heat and motion than is requisite and convenient, you shall have clean contrary operations, & such as will prove very hurtful and prejudicial unto the soul: and right so for all the world fareth it with the Sun, who as long as his beams do wanderabroad, according unto their natural and wont liberty, do gently and moderately heat the earth: but if they be gathered and knit together in the hollow of a burning Crystal, they do burn and ●●nsume that, which they were wont before to cherish and quicken. Now it hath pleased nature to grant unto sense this power and strength which cometh from the soul, to apply itself unto things, and extract their forms, and afterwards either to choose or refuse them, as they shall best please or displease him, and agree or disagree with his nature. And this is done for two reasons: one, because they should be in stead of sentinels unto the body still watching and warding for his good: the other, which is a principal cause indeed, because they should be messengers and vantcouriers from the sovereign and chiefest part of the soul, and also serve for ministers and instruments of bettering our discourse and reason. But as she hath allotted them this power and authority: so she doth most straightly will and command them to content themselves with their office, which is to call to mind things past, & thereupon to advise themselves what is best to be done: not presuming or daring to disquiet the higher and stronger faculties, or breed any further uproar or confusion. For so it falleth out many times in an army, that the watch because they know not the purpose of the General, whose direction they should follow, may be deceived, and take the enemy coming unto them disguised, for friends, and their friends which come in good will to secure and relieve them for enemies: and even so the senses, because they cannot thoroughly conceive and comprehend things appertaining unto reason, as being above their reach, are beguiled with show and appearance of things, and do oft times judge that for a friend unto us, which is our greatest adversary. And so whilst they presently rush forward without staying, or looking for any commandment from reason, they provoke and stir up that part of the soul where concupiscence and anger doth lodge, whereby springeth such a tumult & hurly burly in the mind, that reason during this fury can not be heard, nor understanding obeyed, no more than laws or Magistrates are regarded in a state rend and torn with evil dissension. But in this trouble, the passions which do wax most mutinous and troublesome unto the quiet rest of the spirit, do first arise in the appetible or concupiscible part, that is to say, in that place where the soul doth exercise this faculty of desiring or rejecting things presented unto her, as being things proper or contrary unto her welfare and preservation. So then, their first moving and springing is upon a show and appearance or imagination of some good or evil. Now if it be of some present good, which she doth already begin to possess, we call this motion by the name of pleasure: but if it be of some good ●o come, which is as yet far estranged from us, we call it desire: ●f it be of a present evil, the inconvenience and grief whereof we do already feel, being moved and incensed against another, we call it hatred or horror: and being moved within ourselves, discontentedness, which if it happen upon occasion of any thing which concerns us, we call it sorrow: if by reason of another man's evil, pity: if by occasion of an apparent good where we pretend a part, jealousy: if otherwise, envy. Again, to fall back unto the second part of our second general division: if it be of some after ensuing evil, it is rightly termed by the name of fear.  
See here the first band of these seditious passions, which so much trouble the quiet rest of our soul, which are accompanied with most dangerous effects, and yet nothing like so dangerous as are those which follow after. For why? these first motions being bred and form in that part, by means of the object which presents itself, do pass forth incontinently unto the irascible part of the mind, that is to say, to the place where the soul seeks all means possible of obtaining or avoiding that which seems unto ●er good or evil. And then, forthwith as a wheel which is already mou●d, being to receive a fresh motion is carried about with greater swiftness: so the mind being moo●ed with the first apprehension, having a second strength added unto the former, is whirled about with greater violence than before, and stirs up more strong and untameable passions, because they are doubled and coupled with the former, and so being joined together, do stay and strengthen one another with mutual help and consent. For the first passions, which are found of the object of some imagined or seeming good, considering with themselves of the means how to obtain and acquire it, do stir up in us either hope or despair: but those affections which are made of the object of some seeming evil, do bring forth fear and anger: which four passions are wonderfully strong and violent, and do wholly overturn the frame of reason which they find already tottering.  
Hear behold and mark the four winds (as I verily suppose) from whence spring the cruel tempests of our souls. Their den from whence they come, is nothing else (as hath been already showed you) but a false imagination which we have, that those things which are presented unto us are either good or evil. For by this means attributing that quality unto them, which indeed is not in them, we fly or follow after them with vehemency: and this is the very original and spring of these passions. Well then to stop this den, assure the rest of our souls, and provide that they be not otherwise moved than it is meet for them to be, let us call to mind that which was proved unto us in the very beginning and entrance into this discourse. To wit, that the good of a man, and the perfection of his nature, consisteth in the disposing and fashioning of his will to the right use of things according unto reason: and contrariwise, that his evil cometh from a disordered or unskilful using, or rather abusing of them. For by the first he shall reap much profit, receive much content and quietness, and chance what chance, nay he may set up his rest, and remain as stable andimmoveable as a rock in the midst of the sea: by the second, every small thing that chanceth will trouble him and turn to his great grief and disadvantage. Now this disposition of our will lieth wholly in our power, and consequently our good and evil. Wherefore, if at anytime there be presented unto us any object, to the endethat we may not be troubled at all as with some good or evil which doth follow us, let us consider whether the thing which happeneth be in our power or no. If it be in our power well and good, it may be good or ill unto us. And yet in this case too, we must not be too passionaetly affected in any sort: for if we can but moderate and guide our wills aright, we shall make it good, and so continue it still. If it be out of our power, than it is neither good nor evil, and consequently we ought not to seek or provide it.  
Now the things which are in our power are these; to approve, undertake, desire, and eschew a matter, and in a word, all our actions. For our will hath authority and power to rule and govern them according unto reason, till they come unto the place from whence our good and happiness must come. As for example sake, she is able to dispose our opinion, so that it yield not consent but to that which it is meet it should, and which shall be examined either by sense or reason, that she shall cleave fast unto things which are evidently true of themselves, and keep herself in suspense in things doubtful, and utterly reject things which are of themselves plainly untrue and false. Besides, she can so rule our desire, that it shall follow after nothing but that which is agreeable with nature, and eschew the contrary. The things which are out of our power are these; our riches, reputation, and briefly, that which doth no way depend of our wills: and here, if any thing do happen, we may not say that it is contrary to our natures: because it happeneth either by the universal and continual order of things, and ordinary continuance of causes, and therefore should not seem strange unto us: or else cometh to pass by some particular providence so ordering it, and then we must know that nature hath made us subject thereunto. Furthermore, she hath given us a power and ability in the soul of well using and applying ourselves to all that which shall happen unto us from without; which showeth that she hath not made us fit and proper to one thing, but to every thing which shall come unto us whatsoever: in such sort that we may not desire or fly any such external thing which is not in our power, as well for that is a very foolish and vain affection to will that which it is not in our power to have, as also because that howsoever it happen, it may prove good unto us, and be the subject of many worthy and laudable actions. Now than if we can so command ourselves and our minds, as not to desire or fly any thing which is out of our powers, but with a sober & moderate affection receive and entertain it when it cometh, we shall be altogether exempted from all troubles and perturbations of the mind, we shall be free and happy, and never frustrated of our expectations, or hindered in our affairs and enterprises: we shall not need to hate any man, to complain of any man, to fear any man, or to be angry with any man: for no man shall be able to do us harm. On the other side, if we desire and labour to avoid that which is out of our powers, we shall oftentimes fall from our hopes and wished ends, and miss of our purposes, and light upon that which we so much abhor, we shall trouble ourselves, vex and torment ourselves, and all to no purpose or end in the world.  
There is no man so foolish or unadvised, but that he confesseth that he had rather have his desires then be deprived of them, and rather be free from passions, then to be troubled with them, if he may do otherwise. Is there any man than that will deny this to be a very good, profitable, and natural rule, by the which he may obtain any thing which he desires, if he desire not any thing which he can not obtain? and by the which we learn not to be passionate, or overmuch pensive for any thing which shall happen, placing good and evil in ou● power, giving us one, and taking away the other from us when we will? Therefore when any thing doth chance unto us, that we may not trouble or vex ourselves, let us consider forthwith whether it be in our power or no: if it be, let us so order our will that we may direct and guide all things unto their true and natural uses: and if we do so, we shall be sure to receive good thereby: but if upon inquiry we find them not to be in our power, let us not be moved a whit, but have this word always in ou● mouths, as a very profitable and wholesome instruction. This thing toucheth not me at all, it concerns not me, that is to say, it is neither my good nor my evil, and consequently neither seek after nor avoid it: but when it happeneth I will make the best of it that I can, by applying it unto the best use I can, and which it is possible for me to refer it unto. And if we find ourselves to be further moved, and that any one of the aforenamed passions be stirred up in us, by apprehending the object of things which are out of our power, let us strait ways weigh and consider the nature of it which offereth itself, and wherefore it is sent unto us: them let us examine ourselves, to know unto what passion we are most inclined● and what effects it bringeth with it: afterwards let us mark in ourselves what virtue is opposed against it, & what power and ability nature hath granted to rule and govern it. For as the passion cometh from without, and entereth into us together with the image of the subject, which offereth itself unto our view: so nature hath fenced us within with a strong bulwark or rampire to back us against the force hereof, that is, hath granted us sufficient strength to resist it, and if that we be willing thereunto. Therefore the better to fortify and strengthen this power, let us furnish ourselves with certain wise precepts and short sentences touching every passion, wherewith we may the better be able to maintain reason, and as it were with the edge of the sword cu● off all such first and sudden motions of the mind, as may any ways violence it. And to make these precepts stronger and harder to be overcome, let us stuff them out with brave and worthy examples of men in former time, which have behaved themselves right valiantly upon such or the like occasions. For the example of virtue in others, engageth us to be likewise virtuous, and their commendation is a profitable instruction for us to imitate and resemble them.  
Therefore as soon as any subject of pleasure for the body, as delicate and dainty meats do come into our mind, and that we do find ourselves moved; let us think thus, that this is one of the things which is not in our power, neither good nor evil: but an indifferent thing, a thing which nature hath given us for our sustenance, and being taken moderately, preserves the body in health, and makes it a fit and able instrument for the mind: but contrariwise, the excess and superfluity thereof greatly weakeneth the body, and engendereth many grievous and dangerous diseases, which are the punishment which nature useth to bridle our intemperance withal. But if once we lose the reins unto our appetites to follow abundance or delicateness of meat, we shall be held in perpetual torment and pain, things superfluous will prove but necessary unto us, and the mind e●tsoones will become a slave unto the body, and we shall find that we live but to eat & drink. Therefore we must temper thi● pleasure with a moderate use, and learn to know that it is sobriety that doth preserve the body sound and the mind pure. And therefore let us frame unto ourselves this rule in our diet, to use meat for our necessity of food and maintenance, and let us not accustom● ourselves to delicious fare an● dainty meats, least happily being deprived of them our bodies beall disposed, and our minds discontented: but contrariwise, let us ordinarily use ourselves to grosser meats, as well for that they make us more strong and sound, as also for that they are more easily to be gotten. For it is an especial favour of nature, for the which she deserveth singular great thanks at our hands, that she hath made things necessary for our life most easy to be found, & that the things which are not found but with great difficulty, are nothing necessary at all. And truly I cannot choose but admire the words of Epicurus, but I would they had proceeded out of another man's mouth, because I would not have so worthy a sentence marred with the effeminateness of the rest of his opinions: My body (quoth he) danceth for joy, and my heart within me is ravished with pleasure, to think that I being content with bread & water, should be able to contemn all the delicate fare of the world. And now if Epicurus gloried so much in the contempt of all dainties, what think you should the Stoics do? should not they reverence and honour sobriety as the very foundation of all other virtues, and such a one as stifles all other vices in the cradle, & chokes them in the seed?  
We read that the families of the Curij and Fabricij in Rome did get many ample victories over their enemies, yet were they not renowned for any thing but for their frugality. Their feats of arms did for a certain time assure the state of the Romans against their foreign enemies: but their soberness and frugality hath been a law to frame and fashion the minds and courages of them which did afterwards overcome all the world: the figs and carrots which they preferred before the riches of the Samnites, were more pleasant in taste to them which succeeded them, than were the delicate meats of Axicius in his time. These reasons may likewise serve us to moderate those exceeding great pleasures which we take in wearing costly apparel, and building stately houses, & such other things which are to be referred unto the use of the body: for otherwise, if we do not moderate and measure the pleasures which we conceive in them by the necessity of nature, the very opinion will draw us into a perilous downfall, where we shall neither find shore nor bottom. For example, first our shows must be made of velvet, then of cloth of gold, and lastly they must be finely embroidered with pearls and diamonds: and so likewise our houses must be first built with Marble, then with jasper, and finally with Porphyre. It shall be good therefore for us to observe this course, that our apparel be sufficient to defend us from the violence of heat and cold, and our houses strong enough to resist wind and rain, and let us not seek any thing else: and if happily we find any thing beside, let us not be moved therewith at all.  
But it seemeth that reason hath more ado in resisting the pleasures which come by sight, and fruition of fair and beautiful things, than it hath in conquering the pleasures which we have but erst entreated of. For we imagine that the person which carrieth on his face the favours of nature printed in a rare and beautiful sort, hath a lawful power over us, and that drawing our eyes unto it, it draweth our affections likewise thither, and enthralles them unto it even against our wills. But what then? let us remember that it is a thing merely without us, and that it is a grace and favour which nature hath bestowed upon the person which enjoyeth it, and not upon us: and that it is a thing, the use and possession whereof may be as prejudicial as profitable unto us: and last of all, let us consider that it is but a flower which continually fadeth, and nothing else but as it were the colour of a body. If you suffer yourself to be carried away with this mad and frantic passion, where shall a man find you? you cannot be your own man any longer; your body must needs endure a thousand pains to seek your pleasure, and your mind a thousand torments to satisfy your desire. When this desire shall grow to his full height, it will become low, & love never leaves increasing till in the end it prove stark madness.  
Let us therefore provide ourselves of strong rampires and bulwarks to ward us against this passion, and let us take heed that we be not cozened or deceived with her enticing baits. The more she dallieth with us, the more let us defy her, and let us take this warning in good time, that she never comes to embrace us, but she means to strangle us: that she never gives us liberty and licence, but to bring us into thraldom and slavery: she baits us with honey, to glut us with gall: she setteth before our eyes a vain show of pleasure, which passeth away in a moment, and leaves us sorrow and grief which remaineth for ever. Let us therefore order our minds in such sort, that in considering the excellency of beauty, we do acknowledge the cunning workmanship of nature, and let us so esteem it as we do the Sun and Moon, for the excellency which is contained within them. And if the law do grant us any more particular fruition of it, let it be taken to that end that nature desires, and so that we do not lose the use of reason which ought still to bear rule in us; remembering always how much harm cometh by the immoderate use of this pleasure; how it wasteth the body, weakeneth the soul, and dulls the spirit. Let us altogether abstain from it (if it be possible) before we be married: for besides that, it wipes away all shame and modesty in youth, it makes them lose the sweetness of marriage which they ●lone do taste which have not used it before, a sweetness which souldereth and knitteth together the friendship of marriage: and over and beside all these inconveniences before mentioned, it nourisheth us in the liberty and licence of an unruly and inconstant love. But above all things let us take heed that we do not commit any dishonesty the sooner to accomplish our filthy pleasures. Let us represent unto ourselves the manifold dangers which have befallen them which have been too deeply plunged in them, how some have lost their goods, others their lives, others their minds and wits. Again, let us on the contrary side consider how much more pleasure it will be to us to resist and conquer pleasure, then to possess it; and how much more praise and commendation of all posterities hath Alexander deserved by his continency, than Darius' wife and her daughters purchased by their exceeding pleasant & beautiful faces. Cleopatra's eyes triumphed over C●sar and Anthony, but Augustus' eyes did triumph over Cleopatra's.  
Last of all, this kind of pleasure is accompanied with a kind of delight which concerns the body, and in this regard it seemeth that it is somewhat natural: but the desire of goods and honours, and the pleasure which men take in possessing of them, is rooted altogether upon a bare opinion. I know not what he was that first beguiled us in giving of names, in calling that good which doth in no wise depend of us: but this I am sure that he hath fastened our happiness unto a rotten cable, and anchored our felicity upon the brittle and unstable sand. For what is there in the world so uncertain and unsure, as the possession of such goods as go and come, slide and pass away as a torrent? And I may very well say as a torrent, for they make a noise at their coming unto a man, are full of violence being possessed of him, and are indeed nothing else but troubles and griefs: it is long before they come, and when they are come they stay not long with us, but vanish away suddenly and in a moment, & when they are gone they leave nothing behind them in the bottom but dirt and filth.  
O riches, if men could be so happy as to see the rust of cares and grieves which are engendered in the hearts of men, by looking upon the brightness and glory of your gold and silver, doubtless they would then hate you as much as they do now love you. And truly those which do love you, I can say no more of them but this, that they have one virtue in them, and that is this, to be very constant in concealing their griefs, for fear of discovering their shames: and were it lawful for sorro we freely to utter her complaints against Fortune, think you that she could not answer the accusation of so many men, as she hath cozened by giving of them evils, under pretence and title of good things? Verily my opinion is, that she● would have nothing else to say unto them for her excuse but this, that she hath bestowed them upon none but such as did heartily desire them. Let us then acknowledge riches to be as they are, that is, presents of Fortune, which she doth but lend unto us for a while: for goods that ordinarily happen unto bad men, for goods which are not goods, but when they have gotten them good masters: for good which oftentimes corrupt goods manners, but never amend the bad: for goods without the which so many wise men have made their lives most fortunate: for goods which so many wicked men having had, have suffered most pitiful deaths. Let us know what this unruly desire of having them doth profit us. It is a gangrene in our souls, which consumeth our natural affections with her venomous heat, to fill us with certain poisoned and virulent humours. As soon as it is lodged within our hearts, all honesty and natural affection which is due unto parents, friends, & to ourselves, vanisheth away: all the rest being compared with our profits, seem nothing: we, even we for our profits sake neglect ourselves, & despise our minds and bodies, and as it is in the proverb, sell the horse to buy hay. It seems that nature in the very growing of gold, hath in some sort presaged their miseries which should be earnest lovers of it. For she hath made that in those parts where it groweth nothing prospereth, neither herbs, nor plants, nor any thing else which is of any value; ●s it were foretelling us that in the spirits of those men in whom the desire of this metal should rule, there should be left no sparkle of honour or virtue.  
Let us therefore chase away this ●urious desire far from us, and leaving the foolish opinions of the vulgar sort of people which poiseth goods in goldsmith's balances, let us follow the will & counsel of Nature which measureth them with the ell of necessity. We shall learn of her, that our good cometh not from riches, no more than the heat which we ●eele may be said to come from our garments; but issuing from us is kept & preserved in them. That which cannot reach so far as them, may be said to be within us: and so our virtue, though Fortune clip her wings, shall not be lessened thereby: for though it have less motion, yet shall it have more rest and contentment. There be some notwithstanding, which would feign corrupt us with their vain and foolish opinions, going about to persuade us to think upon nothing else but upon getting of riches. For what say they? If I do not take care in time to get riches, how shall I be able hereafter to help my friends, or serve my country? But let us shape them this wise answer: that it is meet that every one should serve the Commonwealth in his several trade and vocation. It is the Philosopher's duty to make his fellow citizens modest and obedient: if he do so, it may be truly said that he hath discharged his duty, and profited both his friends and country. Besides all this, I would say thus unto him: set me down any honest course of getting riches, and I will not refuse to take it: for my part as I do not greatly desire them, so I would not refuse any honest means and pains to get them. Now if you cannot show me this honest means, why are you so instant with me to seek them by unlawful means? Let us learn to seek that without passion which nature desires, and we shall find that Fortune cannot hinder us from achieving our purposes. But indeed the speediest & truest way of attaining unto riches, is by despising of riches. If we would feign be rich, we need not increase the means of getting them, but rather diminish the desires of seeking them: he that is a contented man, is a rich man, he may have riches when he will. Thus Bias made himself rich by forsaking his goods which he might have carried with him out o● the city as well as the rest, (because this was one of the conditions in yielding up the town into the enemy's hands for in saying that he carried all his goods with him, doubtless he meant his virtues. Thus Diogenes grew not only to be ri●h and mighty, but richer and mightier than Alexander, when he refused his largesse, and in recompense of former courtesies asked only this boon at his hand, that it would please him to stand a little further from him: (for at that time he stood between him and the Sun) and truly as Alexander dealt with ` Diogenes: so do● they deal with us which present us with the goods of Fortune: for they do clean take from us the gifts of Nature. And this appeareth most manifestly in them which suffered themselves to be alured with the pleasant baits of honours (as we call them) and to be tossed about with the wind of ambition. For forthwith they find, that in stead of light and brightness they have nothing left them but smoke.  
Indeed true honour is the glittering & beaming brightness of a good and virtuous action, which rebounds from our consciences unto the sight of them with whom we live, and so by a reflection in ourselves, brings us a testimony from others of the good opinion which they have of us, which makes us to enjoy great comfort of mind. Now this good doth wholly depend on us. Nature procures us this good, when, and as often as we will have it, we may have it. But if we once forsake it, we do but embrace a shadow in stead of a body, and fasten the rest of our minds upon the opinion of the vulgar sort of people, and so voluntarily renounce our liberties, to serve the humours and passions of other men, and are compelled to displease ourselves to please them which do behold us: so that our affections are hanged upon the eyes of other men: and we love not virtue, but as the common people do love and favour it: if we chance to attempt or do any good thing, it is not done for the love of good, but for desire of honour. And so we become like pierced hogsheads which suffer no liquor to come forth, till there be a vent made. But what bounds hath this passion? how is it limited and confined? Doth age waste it? No● Do dignities and honours content it? No. It is a gulf which hath neither shore nor bottom. No, no, it is that vacuum which the Philosophers could never yet find, it is a fire which daily increaseth being daily fed and nourished. They which would smooth and flatter ambition, would feign make men believe that she is in stead of a stair for virtue to mount up to the top of honour: for, say they, for ambition sake men leave all other vices, and in fine forsake ambition too for the love of virtue. But stay, this is not true: if ambition cover and hide all other vices, yet she doth not take them away for all that, but suffers them to lurk for a time under the crafty ashes of a malicious and feigned dissimulation, hoping that they shall have the opportunity hereafter to break forth into a flame, when they shall get credit enough to reign & rage publicly where they will with impunity.  
Serpents lose not their venom being benumbed with cold, neither do ambitious men forsake their vices, whilst they cover them with the cold of dissimulation: for when it is come to the place whither she desires to go, than she displayeth her force & makes men feel her strength. And were it so that ambition should abandon all other vices, yet would she never leave herself, being only in this one thing just, that she sufficeth to her own punishment, and willingly offereth up herself unto torment. The motion of her desires is like unto the wheel of Ixion, it is turned up and down continually, and never suffers a man's mind to rest quietly. Let us therefore fortify and 'stablish our minds against these grievous motions which so much disease our quiet rest and repose. ●et us so govern our affections, that the lustre of honours do not dazzle or darken the eyes of reason, and let us plant certain noble resolutions in our minds in stead of bars and barricadoes against the furious assaults of ambition. First of all let us persuade ourselves that there is no true honour in the world but that which cometh from virtue. Secondly, that virtue seeks no greater or ampler theatre to show herself in, than her own conscience. The higher the Sun is the less shadow it makes, and the greater a man's virtue is the less glory it seeks. And indeed a man may very well liken glory unto a shadow, for it follows them which fly from it, and flies them that seek after it. Let us consider that we come into the world as to a comedy, where we may not choose what part we will play, but only look that we play that part well which is given us in charge. If the Poet bid us play a king's part, we must take care that we do it well, and so if he charge us with the porter or clown's part, we must do it likewise: for a man may get as much credit by playing the one well, as by well acting the other: and like discredit redoundeth unto him if neither be done well.  
As for dishonours, we must use them as we do meats at a banquet, where we taste of them which are set before us, but account it an unmannerly part to reach our hands after those dishes which are set at the further end of the table, or to take the platters out of the steward's hands. And so we, if the testimony of our virtue, profit of our country, and favour of our friends commit any matter of weight and credit to us for to be done, which we know we are well able to bring to pass, let us accept it modestly, and discharge it faithfully and truly, thinking it to be Gods will and pleasure that we should watch and ward, whilst others take their quiet rest and sleep. Let not us seek any other recompense of our labours, but the conscience of well doing, and let us rather covet to have the testimony of our virtues in graven in the minds and hearts of our fellow citizens, then on the top of pillars or public statues: for many times it is a greater honour for a man not to have that which he deserveth, then to have it. I account it (said Cat●) more honour to me that men should ask why there were no images erected in honour of me, in this or that place, then if they should ask why these images were erected, to what end, or for what cause. To be short, let us hold this for a maxim, that the fruit of noble actions is to be said to have performed them most nobly, and that virtue cannot find out of herself any recompense sufficient to guerdon herself withal. For without doubt, ambition is a most gentle passion, which dives most gently down into the most gentle manlike and heroical spirits: but being there, is not to be drawn out again but with great pain. We think that every man is bound to seek and follow after good, and amongst the rest we reckon honour to be one of the chiefest, nay more to be accounted of then all the rest.  
See here the cause why men should take such pains to ride and run, to labour and travel so earnestly and vehemently as they do, and yet for all this, I can assure you that the other passions which are within us, which grow in us by apprehension of the object of some apparent evil, which we are to shun and avoid, do sink deeper into our hearts, and are hardly to be taken out of them. As namely ●eare, which is an apprehension of some evil to come, which keepeth us continually in a bodily fear, and preventeth the evils which Fortune threateneth & menaceth us withal. For certainly it is one of the cruelest instruments which opinion hath to torment us withal: for because she cannot work upon us, but by cozening and beguiling us, and that every man can better see things present, then foresee things to come: therefore she serves herself with things to come, the sooner to come to her purposes, she lieth lurking in some dark or blind corner, to ●atch her time and opportunity, as thieves observe the night for their robberies, because she would not be discovered in her actions. Afterwards she fears & affrights us with masks of evils, which have but a bare show and appearance of evil, having nothing in her which may hurt us, but the apprehension of a conceived and imaginary evil, which maketh the thing seem evil, though it be not so indeed, and even from that which is good draweth a kind of evil to vex and trouble us withal. And good God, how many men may we see continually, who for fear of being unfortunate have become miserable, and so turned their vain fears into certain miseries? How many men are there in the world which have lost their friends for fear of distrusting them? and how many have been sick for fear of being sick? so that it may be truly said, that fear is a heavy weight, which maketh us stoop down to the ground, and stumble as we run hastily from that which we think is to be avoided. Therefore let us take awayfeare, and we shall remove all danger of evil far from us: at least we shall not feel it before it come, and when it comes it will never trouble us so much, that we need greatly to fear it.  
If a man might have his mind to choose from what evil he would be exempted, in mine opinion he should choose to be freest from fear: because the pain of other evils dureth no longer than the cause, but fear is form indifferently as well of that which is, as of that which is not, & which peradventure is never likely to be; yea of 〈◊〉 which cannot be at all. O what a crafty and subtle passion is this, which can out of an imagined evil draw forth such a true and lively grief? Thus he inveigled the painter Parrhasus, to torment some of his servants, that he might the better be able to imitate and express the lamentable and sorrowful passions of the fabulous Prometheus. Now tell me why should we be so ambitious in seeking our own harms, as once to run to meet and prevent them with our thoughts and meditations? Nay rather on God's name, let us stay till they come, but never make any great looking after them, and it may be they will not come so far as to us. There be a thousand lets and hindrances (which cannot be foreseen) to ward the blow from us, which we fear is coming upon us. For even our fears are as easily beguiled as are our hopes. But alas, what is there to be feared? Fear we that which is in our power or no? No: for then perhaps we might remedy it. What then? is it a thing out of our power? If it be so, it is no evil, and what cause then have we to fear it? Wherefore serves this fear then? Marry it serves for a voluntary punishment to vex ourselves withal. On the contrary side, if we can but bear a brave mind and resolute courage against this passion, we shall be well able to remedy and redress many things which happen unto us, which by fear and astonishment are made far worse than they are: but amongst many other evil effects which fear bringeth with it, this is one most dangerous, that ordinarily it maketh a man to hate that which he fears.  
Now hatred is a most deadly passion, which troubleth us very strangely. For I pray, stay a while and consider with yourselves how when we mean to hate a thing indeed, this affection of hatred is nourished and increased within us, though it be neither watered nor laboured, and finally how it causeth in us an utter loathing and detestation of that which is hated. And what is that which we do so greatly hate and abhor? Marry that you may be sure which we should not: for if there be any thing in the world which deserves to be hated, it is hatred itself, and such like passions which are contrary to the nature of that which should command in us. This is the only grief in the world to vex us withal. We hate the persons themselves, and we hate their actions, either because we fear some evil to come, or remember some evil past which we have received by them, or else because the nature of our senses hath a kind of contrariety, antipathy, or contrepassion with the thing hated. And is there any thing that can trouble us more than this? By this passion we● bring ourselves into the power of that which we hate, to vex and trouble us as it listeth. First ●ight moves sense, than remembrance wakeneth the spirit, and so whether we be waking or sleeping, we represent the thing hated unto ourselves, with a kind of despite and gnashing of teeth, which brings us clean out of order, carrieth us out of ourselves, & rends our hearts in pieces most pitifully. Whereby it so cometh to pass, that the pain of that evil which we do wish unto another man, doth ●al upon our own heads. Wherefore let us shut the gate of our soul against this great & terrible passion: and to take away all pretence of entering in upon us, by a mislike and loathing of things which may come into our imagination, let us propound to ourselves this rule which is most true and infallible, to wit, that every thing hath two handles, by the which a man may take and lift it up: if we take it by one of the handles it will seem heavy and grievous: if by the other, we shall find it light and ●asie to be borne. Now nature may speak unto us, as the Philosopher did unto his scholars; that which I offer unto you with the right hand, you take with the left, you always choose the worst; if there be any good thing you leave it, and if there be any bad thing that you will be sure to take. For example, there is one of your neighbours which sueth you in the law, and therefore you can not think on him, but you must dream of his process, and consequently curse and blame him therefore. See here the bad handle, for take him by the other handle, and then strait ways you will think that he is a man as well as you, & that God hath bound you to love him by a likeness of nature, that he is your fellow citizen, and that you are joined together in a community of the same laws, the same Churches, the same Altars, and the self same sacrifices: again, that you are fellow neighbours, bound by charity to secure and relieve one another, and shall not so many subjects of good will be able to quench one little spark of hatred? Peradventure you have a brother which hath offended you, and if you chance to meditate on him, you think and meditate on him that hath offended you, and not on him which was conceived in the same womb, that sucked the same breasts, was brought up in the same house, and lastly that he is the one half of you. Let us learn then to handle things rightly, to take them by the good handle, and so we shall find that there is somewhat or other to be loved in that which is now hated of us. For certainly there is nothing in the world which is not created for man's good. If there be any vicious thing in it which we do hate, it is the evil of the vicious person himself, and not ours. If happily he offend us, we have more cause to pity and lament his case, then to hate and abhor him. For he himself is the first that is offended, and receiveth most harm thereby: for by this means he cometh to lose theuse of reason, and what greater harm can there happen unto a man in this world? Wherefore in such & the like cases, let us turn our hatred into pity, and study to make them worthy of our loves which we would so ●aine hate. Thus dealt Lycurgus when every one forsook the company of a certain fellow which had thrust out one of his eyes, he abandoned not his company, but carried him home with him, gently entreated him, and enjoined him no other punishment but this, that he should study more earnestly to be soberly and virtuously brought up: which being done, he returned him to his fellow citizens, which found that whereas he before was a very quarrelous and injurious fellow, now he was become a good, honest, and sober citizen.  
And look as we ought to shun hatred, so likewise must we avoid envy: for they are sisters germane of the same colour, and the same port, and both of them have effects equally dangerous. Envy stirreth up within us a kind of sorrow at the good which other men enjoy, which still lieth gnawing at our hearts, and tormenteth us most cruelly. Indeed it is a cruel passion, and so cruel, that all the torments of the most cunning and exquisite and professed tyrants in the world, could never have found out a greater. For seeing it is of power to convert and turn another man's good into her harm, what limits can there be prescribed unto her torments, when both her own evils and other men's goods shall join together to torment and trouble her? Let us therefore run away from her as we would do from some wild beast, which never ceaseth to devour and gnaw our hearts, and seek utterly to deprive us of any good that shall happen unto us. Whilst the envious man looketh wistly and overthwartly over another man's good, he letteth his own be spoiled, and so loseth the pleasure thereof. Now the ready way to take away the fear of this envy, will be to ponder and consider with ourselves what is that which we esteem good, and envy another man the having: and we shall find, that all being put together, yet there is nothing which we would willingly have ourselves. For I find that the things which commonly we envy other men the having, are these: riches, honours, and favours: but if a man should speak thus unto us, I am content that you should have as much as they at the same rate, I warrant you we would strait ways answer that we would have none of them. For if we would have them as they have them, we must flatter and cozen as they do, suffer many injuries, and needs lose our liberty. For as the world goeth now, there is nothing to be gotten for bare nothing. Perhaps you make profession of honour and virtue: well this cannot be bought but with the loss of other things which are gotten by a modest and shamefast kind of patience. Riches, dignities and favours are bestowed on them only which can tell how to soothe men up in their humours, and apply themselves unto their pleasures and affections. This is a law, or at leastwise the custom of the world, and it was a custom before ever you were borne, and therefore why doth it grieve you to see it observed? This man sells his liberty and freedom to receive the price of an office or dignity: why do you envy thereat, for I am sure you would not sell yours to gain as much: you would feign have silver and cloth and such like things which this man exchaungeth for his liberty, and yet you would keep yours: but you may not do so, the law of nations is against it, either you must be content with your ware, or else with the price. I go to the market, and there I see one open his purse and deliver out a penny, and ●ee carrieth away with him a lettuce, or some such thing: I which give nothing carry nothing home with me, and yet I think myself as good a man as he every day of the week. For lo here is all the difference, he hath his lettuce, and I have my money. I espy my neighbour coming from a feast; when I consider only the good cheer which hath been made him, I shall be sorry that I was not there with him: but when I think how a man must flatter the master of the house, if he will be welcome, I had rather never have good cheer, then at any time to neglect the duty of an honest man. Let us therefore, as we tender our rest and quietness in this world, take heed that we grow not too envious of another man's good. For if it be a true good which hath happened unto him, we should rather rejoice and be glad with him for it: for every man should desire the good one of an other; and to rejoice at the good of another is the way to increase a man's own.  
The very same rules are to be observed concerning jealousy: for it is as like it in nature and effect as may be; unless this be the difference, that in respect of envy we consider not good, but when it is come unto another man which we desire to have ourselves: but jealousy is of our own proper good, when we fear lest another man should have part with us. But verily it is a sottish and irksome passion, it is the gall which maketh bitter the honey-sweet of our life: for it is ordinarily seen in our pleasantest & sweetest actions which it maketh so bitter and sharp●, as nothing can be more: for it changeth love into hatred, respect into disdain, and certainty into distrust. Make this account with yourself, that whosoever means to lead a jealous life, must lead a miserable life. The only means of shunning and avoiding it, is to make a man worthy of that which is desired: for jealousy is nothing else but a distrust of a mansselfe, and a bearing witness of himself against himself of his small deservings. In my opinion, it was a very worthy answer which the Emperor 〈◊〉 made unto Faustine, when she asked him what he would do if Cassiu● happened to get the victory over him. Marry (quoth he) I hope I do not ●eru● the gods so ill, as that they will suffer this misfortune to light upon me. Let them which fear to lose the part which they have in other men's affections say in like sort, I have made more account of his friendship, then to deserve any such thing at his hands, as to be lawfully disfriended of him.  
The presumption and confidence of our own worthiness, is a great pledge to assure us of another man's goodwill: for he that seeks a thing with a virtuous intent, is glad to have a companion joined with him in the pursuit thereof: for he may serve to provoke his dullness, and secure his weakness and imbecility, in pursuing of that which is good, because of the shining glory & honour of the others estate. Only weakness fears to be encountered, because she is afraid, that being compared with another, she shall by and by show forth her imperfection. Who is he that would if he might sport himself alone at the games of Olympus? Take away emulation, and take away glory, and take away the very spur of virtue. It is a strange thing, that accordingly as we are disposed to use and receive the things which happen unto other men, so they serve us either to a good use or to a had use: for mark, if the good of another man do not breed jealousy within us, and keep us in a continual fear and perplexity. Again on the other side, how another man's evil doth cause a kind of remorse and pity: so that what for the one and what for the other, we are clean transported ou● of ourselves, and do come to our wits ends. And whether it be because of a secret consent within us, whereby we do communicate with one another's miseries, or whether it be for that we fear lest that should happen unto us, which hath chanced unto our friends, we sigh and groan, suffer and endure with them in their miseries. And we are not greatly to be blamed for so doing: provided that it be done moderately and so far 〈◊〉 as that it may serve as a meanness waken and stir us up to help and secure them. For this is commanded by the law of humanity: but we are not bi● to adopt unto our s●l●es their griefes● or to darke● the clearness of our minds with the smoke of their miseries.  
Now the necessary remedies which we must be provided of, against the discontentedness which we take by another man's e●ill, called pity, are common to that other kind of discontent which is called by the name of grief, which is the feeling of some pretended evil in ourselves. For as soon as these evils (for so we call them) do assault us, forthwith the strength of our soul's withere●● ●way, v●lesse we take the better ●eede, and we are drawn headlong into a kind of languor, womani●hnes and want of courage, that it is strange to ●ee, which ●●keth from us the use of reason, and means of 〈◊〉 for our own affairs. In this ca●e it shall be good for us to remember what things are in our power, and what not, & to 〈◊〉 that ●uill which is contrary unto the perfect disposition of our will. For by this means we 〈◊〉 ●●me to know, that grie● and pleasure are drawn both of them out of the ●ame well, if a man have but the skill to turn his bucket when he would ●ill him with either: for the use is all in a thing, and everything is as it is used good or bad. Thus we make ●iches become ●uill, when we make them serve i● stead of means to execute● out evil passions: and 〈◊〉 poverty proveth good unto us, if we accompany it with frugality and 〈◊〉 th●s rest and quietness increaseth our misery if it increase our sloth and sluggishness; and labour and pain 〈◊〉 sweete● when by ou● labour and industry in serving our 〈◊〉 we purchase honour and credit●. Wherefore let us so take and esteem of everything, as it is to be taken and esteeme● of● and we shall find that ther● is nothing but will yield us some commodity or other. For there is no chance in the world which can happen so crossly, but nature hath provided a habit and disposition in us to receive it when it cometh, & turn it to our joy and contentment.  
Therefore when any thing d●th use to trouble us, let us consider two things: the one, the nature of that which hath chanced unto us: the other, the nature of that which is in us: and then let us learn to use every thing according unto his nature, and so we shall be sure never to receive any loathing or discontentment at all. For discontent being a dise●●e of the soul is contrary unto nature, and therefore we may not suffer it to take deep ●oote within us. Now there is nothing that causeth more offence o● discontent, than the newness or strangeness of a thing when it happeneth. And this appeareth mo●● evidently, in that the things which displease us most are made pleasant and sweet by custom and continuance. The galley slaves when they go to sea, weep at first shipping, but after three or four months they sing as merrily as birds. So that you see custom is all: for they which have not been accustomed to the sea, are afraid and look pale when they see them weigh anchors and launch forth into the sea, though it be in a calm: where contrarily the old and tried mariners laugh and are merry in a tempest. And look what good custom bringeth unto the common sort of people, the same meditation bringeth unto a Philosopher: for by often thinking and meditating upon things, he maketh them seem most familiar and ordinary unto him. Let us therefore exactly consider & ruminate with our s●lues, the nature of each thing that may molest and trouble us, and let us cast before hand the worst that may happen; as sickness, poverty, banishment and injuries, and let them sift them narrowly to find out the nature of them, or else that which is most contrary unto their natures. It so falleth out that some of us are diseased in body: well, it is not we that are offended but our bodies: for the offence being taken, many time● hindereth the excellency and perfection of the thing: whereas otherwise the disease may happen to be a great deal fit subject and occasion to exercise our patience with praise and commendation than health: now where there is most occasion of praise, is there least good to be gotten?  
As much as the mind is more to be accounted of then the body; so 〈◊〉 the goods of the mind are more to be valued and esteemed of then the goods of the body. If then the body be the instrument of the mi●de, who will be so foolish as to complain, when he seethe the instrument applied unto that use for the which it is ordained? A man's body is sick and diseased: no great marvel, for seeing it is a compound thing, therefore it is subject unto alteration. Yea sir, it is true, as you say: but yet for all that the grief of the disease is felt so violently, that it makes us cry out in spite of our teeth. I grant indeed that it is felt, I must needs confess that, but it is felt only in body, and it makes us cry too and if we will be so foolish. Grief is not intolerable, but unto them which 〈◊〉 that it is so: for there be which can endure and suffer it when it is at the sharpest. Possidonius the Philosopher discoursing at large of certain matters in the pre●ence of Pompey, was sorely troubled with the gout, and when the disease pained him most, he said no more but this: Sir grief, you have attempted your worst against me, what remedy but patience: you think to make me curse and speak ill of you: no, no, far be it from me that ever I should say that you are evil: and so he went forward with his discourse, and made as if he had never felt it. Now I pray tell me and if you can, what new remedies had this Philosopher found out against this grief? what plasters and ointments had he stored up against the gout? Truly these two, the knowledge of things, and courage of mind. For he was thoroughly resolved, that the body was made to serve the soul, and that if so be the soul should be grieved for that which happened unto the body, that then it must ●f force be subject to the body. Now if it ought not to be troubled for that which happeneth unto the body, how much less ought she to be grieved for the loss of goods? For the loss of a man's goods doth not touch a man so near as the want of his health. Indeed both of them are things merely without us, yet of the two the body is nearer unto us than goods.  
Man cometh naked into the world, and shall go naked out of the world, can he then truly say that any thing is his, which he neither brought hither with him, neither may carry away with him when he departeth? The goods of the earth are like unto household stuff in an Inn, which a man need not care for but as long as h● lodgeth in it. Yea, perhaps will some man say, but if I have them not, I may happen to die for hunger. Well, if this be all the care that may trouble your mind, follow mine advise and you shall do well enough: you were better dy● for hunger in a good mind, then to live richly and far daintily being in continual grief and torment. You must make this account, that the losses which you suffer, are the prizes wherewith you purchase quiet rest and content of mind. If you employ them to some use, why then they are not lost: if you do not employ them, than you lose both your goods and your minds both together. Would you therefore feign know an easy way to cure you of these wounds? I will show you it presently; look upon the scars and wounds which other men of good account & great resolution have received: and consider how they have laughed at such losses, and taken occasion to thank God for them. Hearken what Z●no said, that at that time when he suffered ship wrack, the winds blew very luckily: for they brought him unto the haven of Philosophy, where he bestowed the remainder of his life in a most quiet and peaceable Sunshine, amidst the tempests of civil discord, and had a safe covert to defend him from a thousand scorching griefs, which trouble and torment men in the affairs of this world.  
Do you know how to suffer loss of things so that it shall not trouble you? It is quickly learned, there is no more in it but this, not to accustom yourself to love any thing otherwise than it is, or better than it deserveth. If a man have an earthen vessel, let him love it as a vessel of earth, which may beebroken, and so if it chance to be broken, the matter will never trouble him much. Let us pass from smaller things to greater things, from vile and base things to things of greater value & more account, and let us do the like. If we love our children, let us love the● as men, that is to say, as men subject unto infinite casualties of death, and then afterwards when they happen to die, their deaths will be neither strange nor grievous unto us.  
Indeed it is an imagination and opinion that vexeth and tormenteth us more than the things themselves, which is form of those words which a man useth when he is surprised with such accidents: for we call one thing by the name of another, and imagine it to be like unto that other, & the image and Idea thereof remaineth so in our minds. And therefore let us mollify and sweeten our words as well as we can: for if one of our children chance to die, say not I have lost one of my children: but this, I have restored one of my children to God, of whom I borrowed them. And likewise if we lose any other of our goods, let us use the like words. If a naughty fellow take away our goods from us, and it grieves us at the very heart, say no more but this: Was it not meet that God should have that again which he had lent me for a time? For the rest, remember your own opinion of the like mishaps when they did happen unto others● and consider with yourself how then you were not much moved, but rather how you did blame them, and neglect their frivolous and vain complaints. Suppose that the judgement which you give of them, is a prejudice against yourself which cannot be avoided. For our judgements in another man's behalf are always more just and favourable, than in a man's own cause. If a servant of your neighbour's chance to break a glass, you say, there is no great harm done, it was but a glass broken. If his son die, you say, he was of estate mortal, not borne to live ever: and I pray why can you not say as much when your own son dieth, without crying out, tormenting yourself, or accusing God and men for the loss of that which is so ordinary? There happeneth nothing unto you but that which you have foreseen and thought on a thousand times: and wherefore then are you so much astonished? For verily I am persuaded, that if we were as provident and careful as we ought to be, and may be if we will, we shall little need to be afraid or troubled when any thing happeneth, and principally we should not greatly care for that which we call injury. For let us but set before the eyes of our minds the manners and humours of men, with whom we do converse, (as they are for the most part) and we shall be quickly resolved, I warrant you, to suffer many lewd parts at their hands, and to endure much of their indiscretion: for the common nature of men is to rejoice in evil doing, and to measure their authorities by nothing but by the injuries and contempts of other men. So few there be that take pleasure in well doing.  
Let us therefore determine with ourselves, that on what side so ever we turn ourselves, we shall find some or other that will be ready to offend us, so that a man may find, as many men so many injuries. But let us take heed that we be not surprised by them, standing always upon our guard, and having due regard unto them when they come. So that whither so ever we go, and what business so ever we undertake, let us consider before hand what the event is likely for to be, and how we shall be entreated. If we be desirous to go to the baths, let us wisely cast with ourselves before hand what the actions of men are when we shall come thither, how one gapples and cries, another justles and iumbles his fellow, here one dashing them with water, and there another ready to steal their garments. If we have well premeditated and forethought upon all this, we shall do nothing but laugh at matters when they happen. If we have occasion to visit some great man, let us imagine that he will make us wa●te at his gate, and when we seek to get in at the door, the porter will shut us out, and clap the door against us; that we shall find him busy, or in such a case that he will not be spoken withal, or when all is done that he will not give us good countenance, and scarce bid us welcome. When we have debated all this with ourselves, little cause shall we have to be moved or troubled.  
Besides all this, there is another thing which serveth greatly to sweeten our injuries, and that is when we excuse them in ourselves which have offered us any injury, presuming that they would nor have done it without some occasion. For example, if you should call to your servant, and he not answer you again, think that he did not hear you wh●n you called him● he hath not been there whither you sent him, suppose that he was not at leisure ●o goethither: and thus let us do in other matters, framing still excuses unto ourselves in the behalf of other men: but especially in matters of injuries, let us serve ourselves with the commodity which they offer us. For as there is no kind of herb how venomous so ever it be, which being well tempered and ordered to the purpose, hath not some profitable use in itself: so is it in case of injuries. We may (to speak with the least) reap two commodities by them: the on●, that they make us know them which offer us injuries, to learn to take heed of them against another time: the other, in that they discover our weakness and infirmity, and the place which lieth so open to the battery, that we may be the better able to fortify and strengthen it. In such sort that if you chance to see a man which speaks ill of you, conclude by a●d by with yourself; doubtless this man is an evil man, I may not trust him at any hand. Then examine whether that which he saith be true, either in whole or in part, and correct that fault in yourself, least happily another man take occasion to speak as much, or more of you. For I pray you, what better revenge can a man take of his enemies, then to profit by their injuries? But indeed the last fence and strongest rampire that we can have against these or the like accidents is this, to be resolved that we cannot receive any harm but of ourselves: and that if so be our reason be so well governed as it ought to be, we cannot be wounded at al. And therefore we may cry out with Socrates; Anitus and Melitus may put me to death, but they can not do me any harm.  
Now he that is prepared to surfer the injuries & rebukes of men, will not be to seek to bear the pain of banishment. For commonly it is allotted unto honest and good men, by the injurious dealings of the wicked. But because it is but a vain show of evil, where with opinion terrifieth our minds, and useth to draw forth the bitterness of grief and sorrow; let us therefore consider it more particularly, and try whether it be as grievous unto a man when he stands by it and views it more exactly, as it seemeth unto him when he is a far of. Who hath taught us that it is the nature of man to stay still in the same place? What greater displeasure ●ā there come unto a man then to be confined & limited within certain bounds? Look upon all the cities of the world, and observe the inhabitants there dwelling, to see how many you can find which were townesborne children bred and brought up in the same place; & I believe you shall find, that the greatest part of the inhabitants are voluntary exiles from their native country. Every place in the world is a wise man's country, or rather no place at all is his country. For his habitation is in heaven, whither he aspireth after he hath passed the time here beneath of his sorrowful pilgrimage; making his abode in cities and provinces, as travailers do in Inns and ostelries. Again, we cannot see past ten or twelve leagues of ground: but the face of this great heaven glistering with so many fair and beautiful stars, doth show herself once a day, because we should see her turn round about when she displaieth her beauty to the full. Wherefore then should it grieve us so much to lose the sight of the place where we were borne? It was in the power of our mothers (and if they listed) to have been brought a bed in other places, and so to have made us changed our countries.  
This is a bar against all that may be objected concerning this matter, that we were borne either here or there, it matters not where, and therefore we need not sorrow so much at our banishments. Pompey seeing the effeminateness of the Romans minds which were with him at the battle of Pharsalia, and perceiving how they turned their eyes & thoughts towards the city of Rome, sorrowfully regreeting their houses, and sighing as men banished from their country: My friends (quoth he) the country where good men dwell in, is their liberty. Rutilius declared this most manifestly unto Sylla: for being by him sent for back again from banishment, he would not repair unto Rome, but rather endure the vasues of a desert and solitude of an Island, rather than to abide the face of the tyrant in his own city. Every country is fit to nourish and bring up men, every country yieldeth them parents: for nature hath joined all of us together in blood and charity: every country bringeth forth friends unto virtue, for virtue is of power to make men love one another. What then is there which may cause us to grieve at our departure from the place of our natural abode? for the same heaven hangs still on our heads, and the self same elements continue. If we lose not our courages, we shall not lose any thing by our banishments. Now if you can resolve upon that which I have propounded unto you, to avoid these first passions well and good, I shall not need to employ any further time to discourse unto you the way and means of preparing yourself against the other. For if you never receive into your mind those passions which grow in the concupiscible part of the soul, you shall never be vexed with them which are form in the irascible part. For as much as these, which are despair, and hope, fear, and choler never rise and stir in ou● minds, but after desire & loathing are engendered within us. And as the former (whereof we have hitherto spoken) grow by an application of the object and opinion conceived, that they will be favourable or contrary unto us: so these other spring from a consideration and search of the soul which it hath to obtain or avoid that which she desireth or flieth. This is but as it were a moving of the soul out of itself, which is caused by a redoubling of the former passion, and therefore as a fire better kindled they are hard to be quenched: for in a moment they gain the greatest part of the soul, and shake her strongest passions. Now for a remedy to guard us from them, let us learn to call them all by their several names, and know them by the liveries which they wear, made of certain terrible and grievous accidents.  
For the first, which is hope, kindling our foolish desires with a soft and pleasant wind, causeth a certain fire in our hearts full of a thick smoke which dazzles our understanding, carrieth our cogitations away with violence, and holdeth them hanging in the clouds, utterly depriveth us of judgement, and maketh us to dream waking. And as long as our hopes dure, we cannot be persuaded to forsake our desires. On the contrary part, when despair is once lodged within us, it so tormenteth our soul with an opinion of our disability in obtaining of that which we desire, that every thing must yield unto her beck, and give her place: so that for the very love of that which we imagine we shall never be able to attain unto, we forego the quiet rest which we already enjoy. This passion is like unto little children, which for spite that one of their toys should be taken away from them, throw all the rest in the fire. This passion is angry with herself, and of herself exacteth the pain of her misfortune. The means to cure a man of it, is to arrest his desires at their first peeping forth, and if they be wicked not to permit them to go any further, and if they be good to temper and make them go and grow into a sweet and peaceable affection, without looking afterwards for anymore favour, than the nature of the thing and inconstancy of Fortune doth suffer and permit: still balancing our hopes and fears together. For a wise man ought not to live in hope more than in fear; and it is not his part to commit himself into Fortune's hands, to hinder or diminish any thing from his pleasures. In like manner he should not despair or doubt of any thing, as well for that his desires should be bounded within the limits of his power, as also for that such is the unsteadfastness of things, that it doth as well relieve things desperate, as altogether overturn and quail the hopes of things wished for.  
Now for ●eare, which is a violent trouble, whereby the soul being frighted retireth back into herself, and there stayeth because she seethe not the means of avoiding the danger which is imminent over her head, it is a dangerous passion: for besides the great discouragement which it bringeth unto us, it seizeth us with such a kind of astonishment, that we have no means of discourse left unto us: yea even at that time when our senses are most quickest. For than our eyes are opened and yet we can see nothing, men speak and talk unto us, but we hear them not, and when we would run away from the danger, we have not the power so much as to li●t up our legs. To say the truth, it cometh unto us at the first by a disposition of nature, but after wards delicate nurture and fond education, prevaileth much unto the increasing of it. For because we were not nourished and brought up in the time of our youth unto labour and pain, therefore we begin to fear those things which we have no reason to stand in fear of. Wherefore if we mean to arm ourselves against these passions, we must have recourse unto Wisdom, and by her good means we shall soon come to know the nature of things: which being known, it will evidently appear, that there is nothing which ought to be so much feared and dreaded of us. For take but away the mask of opinion, and we shall find their natures altogether pure, friendly, and agreeable unto us. Moreover, we must accustom ourselves a long time before to the terriblest and fearfullest things that are, and let us set before our eyes the most ghastly dangers which can fall upon us, and with joy of heart sometimes commit ourselves unto the most dangerous hazards● for trial of our courages. To prevent a man's evil fortunes by running as it were to meet them, is to take Fortune's weapons into our hands and wound ourselves with them. Were it not better for us to be provided before hand to withstand her force when she assaulteth us, then upon the sudden to be put to our shifts to defend ourselves? For if we do so, we shall be sure to have leisure to put on our weapons● to take our advantages, and foresee a place where to retire if need be: where on the contrary side, if she set on us upon the sudden, she may easily surprise us, and deal with us as she list. And therefore it shall be good for us before the assault, to try how we can defend ourselves, to make many false alarms, & propose unto ourselves the dangers which worthy men have suffered in our remembrances: how some have escaped the greatest, because they would not be daunted: and others have been overcome by the least, because they were not well resolved. But above all other things let us so handle the matter, that we do not at anytime apprehend 〈◊〉 or the fear thereof when it cometh: for it is a common object which troubleth our mind, and destroyeth our judgements, and maketh us abandon all offices and duties, and finally it causeth us to forget ourselves.  
O that we could be once fully persuaded in this point not to fear death, good God how happy should we then be? For in this one thing more than in any other, opinion taketh occasion to band herself against reason, that so she might terrify us by wearing the ugly vizard of death. And albeit there be but one death in all the world, yet she painteth him forth unto us after an infinite kind of fashions. Believe me there is nothing in death which is to be feared: but here is the mischief, she sendeth forth certain fearful and cowardly spies abroad, to spy what is done, which report not the truth what they have seen, but what they have heard men say, and which they themselves fear is likely for to happen. Indeed we trust too much unto the sayings of the vulgar sort of people, which are most inconsiderate, affirming it to be a great evil, and yield no credit unto Philosophy, which teacheth us that it is the haven of man's life. If Socrates be to be believed, death is not to be feared. If Ca●o have any credit with us, he will persuade us to run and meet her coming unto us: and so will Arria the wife of Petus, which died to keep her husband company, for fear of sundering their loves which were soldered together by chaste and holy wedlock. After she had opened her breast with the first wound, and made a broad passage for death to come in at, she said unto Pet●●; O Petus, death is not grievous unto me. She said this unto him which well understood that death was not evil, but the end of all evils to that man which was seized with her. For how should she be evil being naturally or irksome and grievous being so ordinary and common?  
The contempt of death is the true and lively source of all noble and commendable actions. From hence were derived so many notable and excellent words of vert●e, which uttered her sentences by the mouths of so many valiant men of the world. This is the spirit which animated Demetr●us, and put that worthy answer into his mouth which he made unto Nero. Nero menaced him in this wise: Sirrah, I will cause you to be done to death. So will nature (quoth he) cause you to die also ere ●t be long. This is the ground of that invincible resolution, which hardened & heartened Heluidi●● Priscus against Vespasian: Vespasian sent unto him to will him not to come unto the Senate. He returned him this answer: that it was in his power to strike him o●● of the number of Senators, bu● as long as he was a Senator he● should not keep him from that place, if he might do withal. H● sent him back word again, that he might repair unto the Senate-house, but withal charged him to say nothing when he came thither● He told him he would do so, if no man asked his advise. Nay that may not be, said he: for I must for mine honour sake ask your opinion as well as the rest. And I for my honour and credit (answered helvidius) must needs speak what my conscience biddeth me. Well, if you do, replied Ner●, look not to live one hour longer. Why, said he, did I ever tell you that I was immortal? you may do● your pleasure, but I will do my duty. It may be it is your pleasure to put me to death wrongfully, than it will be my part to die constantly, and this is the shortest and longest of it. O wonderful courageous and worthy sentence, thrice worthy to be heard and learned of them which ●re to stand in defence of justice and reason, against violence and force! O true and lively image of constancy, what a brave and notable example shalt thou be unto all posterities? Surely they which propose unto themselves the lives of such noble personages to be imitated of them, shall neue● have their minds troubled with apprehension of any ill chance whatsoever: but with a courageous and undaunted minds they shall be able to run through fire and flame to purchase virtue and honour.  
But as we must shun fear●, so we must take great heed that we do not fall into choler, which is the other extremity and flatley opposed against it: for where a● fear doth make us to retire and withdraw ourselves wholly into ourselves; on the other side choler carrieth us clean besides ou● selves, and seeking the means to repulse the evil which either a far off threateneth us, or presently seizeth us, she maketh the blood boil in our hearts, and stirreth up certain ●urious vapours in ou● spirits which blind our eyes, and so throw us down headlong unto a speedy desire of revenge, which greatly rejoiceth our minds. That w●●ch most of all tickleth and delighteth us in this passion, is, that it seemeth to arise upon a good ground, and may be justly excused by the malice of other men. But what an excuse is this? as if another man's injustice could make the thing just which is not just of it ●elfe, or the loss which we receive by another man could be deemed any way profitable unto us? Alas, she wanteth that strength which she should have to do us good: she is willing to cure one evil but by another. Briefly to commit the correction of offences unto choler, were to correct one vice by an other. But reason which should command in us, will have no such officers which do all things of their own heads, without staying for any direction: she desireth to do all things orderly and lawfully, as well as nature. And because it is not her property to use violence, therefore we oftentimes think that where there is violence there is strength. But alas we deceive ourselves: for there is nothing so weak as an unruly and disordered motion. Now all violent motions proceed rather from weakness then from strength: and may be well resembled unto the force of young children and old folks, which run when they think they do but walk and go about. For trust me, anger and choler is but an argument of weakness, and they are much deceived that think otherwise. But what then, may some man say, shall virtue see vice wax insolent, and yet not be moved at all? shall we take away all manner of liberty from them, so that they shall not have so much leave as to show forth their anger against the wicked? For answer to this I say, that virtue desireth no more liberty than it is fit and meet for her to have; she may not turn her strength against herself, or be any thing moved with another man's evil. For it is the property of a wise man as well to suffer the vices of evil men without choler, as to brook their prosperities without envy: and he must be as ready patiently to suffer the indiscreet parts of many rash headed persons, as the Physician can be content many times to bear many injuries at his patient's hands, being sick of a frenzy.  
Truly there is no greater wisdom, nor more profitable in this world, than patience in enduring the folly of other men. For otherwise it so falleth out divers times, that because we cannot suffer their foolishness, we make it become ours, and soreceive much harm thereby. For first it makes us lose our judgements, than it causeth us to hurt ourselves, till in the end we throw ourselves headlong into that danger which we would willingly avoid. This passion also may be very well and fitly likened unto great walls or houses when they fall, which break and bruise all that they light upon: and she is so earnest in procuring another man's evil, that she hath no respect at all unto her own good. Add unto all this that hath been spoken, that she is very inconsiderate, and for the most part unjust: and to speak the truth, offence and revenge is but one sin, that hath divers excuses: for both of them have one end, and that is to mischief other men. Therefore let us be diligent and careful, that we do not suffer any such passions to arise in our minds: but as soon as any thing doth begin to move us any whit, or touch us to the quick, let us pause and think upon it a while: for if we could but once find in our hearts to reason the case with ourselves, we should be well able to stop the course of this cruel fever of the mind. For look but upon the actions and gestures of men when they are once in choler, mark how ill every thing becometh them. Contrarily, let us recount with ourselves the fruit of clemenci● and gentleness, how it maketh us seem gracious and acceptable to others, and profitable or commodious unto ourselves. This is a loadstone of power attractive to draw men's hearts and goodwills unto her.  
Let us therefore accustom ourselves to forgive all the whole world. Let not the greatness or grievousness of the injury withhold us from pardoning them: but on the contrary side let us think, that the greater the injury is, the better it deserveth to be pardoned, and that the more just our revenge is, the more our gentleness is to be praised. But especially such as are seated by fortune in the highest degree of honour, should take heed to their motions that they be remiss and temperate: for for as their actions are of greater importance, so their faults are harder to be cured. The heaven itself presenteth them daily with an example and doctrine of avoiding all manner of haste and precipitation, in showing them that Saturn the very highest of all the Planets, is most remiss and slowest in his course. And Astronomers say, that jupiter alone by himself is able to shoot forth profitable and pleasing lightnings and good abodes: but when there is a question of sending forth hurtful and revenging storms and lightnings, than he cannot do this of his own authority, but is to crave the counsel and assistance of twelve other gods. And is it not a very strange case, that he that is the greatest of all the gods, that ●an do good unto all the whole world, is not able to hurt one person, but after a solemn counsel & deliberation? so that jupiter himself, though that he be very wise, yet is he afraid lest he should overshoot himself in a matter of revenge, and therefore thinketh he had need of good counsel to advise him. Wherefore if at any time we happen to have feeling of this passion within us let us repair unto our friends, & ripen our cholers with their pleasant discourses. For take the best man that is in the world when he is moved, & you shall see whether he be able to do any thing as he ought to do. For reason being hindered with passions, stands a man in as much stead, as wings do birds when they are caught with lime-twigs fast by the feet. And this is the reason why we should study to lift up our hearts from the earth, and place them in a quiet and peaceable estate, if we desire to make our souls capable of all good and virtuous actions. We must never leave till we have brought our minds to be of such a disposition, as the highest region of the air is, which is never darkened with clouds, nor shaked with thunderbolts, but enjoyeth a continual fairness: for so the mind should never be darkened with sorrow, nor moved with choler. And if once a man could bring his mind unto this pass, he should very easily rule his other actions, & bring them unto their wished end: for then doubtless he would follow nature hard by the heels, tread altogether in her steps, and join himself by a pleasant and temperate affection unto those other parts of the world, of which man is the knot, the marriage knot which linketh heavenly & earthly things together.  
The effects of this soft and temperate affection which man beareth towards other things of the world, are called duties, as if they did show us our duties & behaviours towards other things. Therefore if we would learn to rule and moderate this duty, and to be informed in the right use thereof, we cannot have a better mistress than Nature to teach and inform us. For she hath established an order and disposition in every thing, by virtue whereof she committeth things one under another, and yet chaineth them altogether with the links of mutual respect which they own one to another, which she hath engraven in the forehead of each thing, as Princes stamp their images in their coin, to show that they are good and lawful money. Let us therefore in every thing consider the order and course of nature, and we shall straightways know the value of it, whether it be currant or no, and how much will be given for it. Good being the object of man's will, where perfect and true good is to be found, there our will ought to be moved.  
This being granted, it must needs follow that the strongest and chiefest affection of man, aught to be accounted that which joineth us together with the author and fountain of all good, to wit, godliness: for by it a man is reunited and substantially engrafted in his first cause, as being the root which keepeth him (as long as he abideth and dwelleth in it) in his full perfection: ●ut contrarily, being separated from it, withereth and drieth away incontinently. Now the principal effect of piety is to teach us how to know God: for the honour and respect which we bear unto anything, proc●edeth from the true knowledge of it. Therefore first of all we must believe that there is a God: secondly, that he hath created the world by his mighty power, bounty & wisdom, and by them governeth it: then, that his providence watch●th over all things, yea the smallest things in the world. Again, that whatsoever he sendeth unto us, is for our good, and that our evil cometh not but from ourselves. For if we esteem those chances evil which God sendeth unto us, we shall oftentimes take occasion to blaspheme him; because that naturally we honour them which seek our good, and hate them which procure us any evil. And therefore we must resolve with ourselves to be obedient unto him, and take in good part whatsoever cometh from his hands. And seeing that his knowledge is most perfect, his power thrice infinite, and his will most loving and charitable: what resteth th●n, but that we should conclude that God sendeth nothing unto us, but tendeth to our great good? And albeit we for our parts cannot conceive the good which we ought to receive of that which he sendeth us; yet nevertheless we hope all is for the best: supposing, that as the Physician doth oftentimes many things for the safety of the body, which may seem at the beginning to hurt it: so God in the guiding of our lives doth save us by means, which may seem grievous and hurt full.  
The Physician divers times pricketh the eye to recover a ma●s sight: and oftentimes GOD almighty useth to prick & wound our hearts with sharp afflictions, to restore our minds unto their brightness. Under the seal of this assurance we ought to commit and submit ourselves unto him, confessing that we come into the world not to command, but to obey, finding laws already made which we ●ught to follow. And therefore continually we ought to have in mind (as a profitable lesson of our wise obedience unto God's ordinance) these noble verses of Cleanthes:  

My God direct and guide my feet  
in thy most known way:  
For willingly I'll follow thee  
forthwith, without delay.  
For fear lest bound in fetters strong,  
I be not there held fast,  
Where 'gainst my will, being once fast bound,  
I cannot come in haste.  
But as a man that honest is,  
I may thereto at ta'en,  
Whereto the fates and destinies,  
my sta●e of life ordain.   
And so for the rest, let us never address our prayers and petitions unto him, but to obtain that at his hands which he hath purposely ordained for us. For to ask any thing at God's hands against his providence, were as much as in us lieth to corrupt the judge and governor of the world. The best prayer that we can make unto him both for his honour and our profit, is, that he would vouchsafe to preserve our affections pure and holy, and to rule and govern our will, that it may always be directed towards the attaining of that which is good.  
The sacrifice which he requireth at our hands, is nothing else but an innocent life: he desireth not our goods, only his will and desire is, that we should make ourselves worthy of his: for there is not so small an offering but pleaseth him well, if it be presented unto him with chaste and innocent hands. Again, there is no sacrifice be it never so rich and costly, but displeaseth him as much, if it come from polluted and defiled hands. Apollo being upon a time demanded how he liked the sacrifice of an hundred oxen which was offered up unto him, gave this answer:  

Hermione's ca●e which he to 〈◊〉  
in earthen vessel ga●●●  
Pleased me full well● and for the sa●●  
he had what he did crave.   
As if he should have said in other words● A virtuous and wise man is the only true priest of the great God, his spirit is his temple, wherein he offereth up daily sacrifices, his soul is his image, his affections are his offerings, and the greatest and solemuest sacrifice which you can offer unto him, is a true & virtuous imitation of him. I say not this, as if the usual ceremonies in each country were not to be observed, so that there be an honest moderation of them without excess or covetousness, but because I am of opinion that God will be served inspirit. And therefore to conclude this point, this is that I say, that the best manner of serving & worshipping him is, after we have ascribed all praise & glory unto him, and decked him with all manner of titles which man's spirit can imagine, to hold this for a most constant resolution, and confess it publicly, that we have presented nothing unto him worthy of his divine Majesty; the fault being not in his Godhead, but in our impotency and weakness, which can never conceive so highly of him as he is.  
From this worship and honour which is due unto God, proceedet● t●is opinion which we ought to have of him: that he is always present to view and ma●ke all our actions, whether it be that we come and present ourselves before him, or else converse with men. And therefore we must so speak unto God, as if men heard us, and so live amongst men as if God saw us. But above all other things, we must be very religious in invocating him for a witness of the truth: for the due obs●ruation of an oath, is the principal part of godliness and piety. For an oath is nothing ●ls but an image of ●hat universal law which proceedeth from the goodness of God, for containing of all parts of the world in their place, and making them to be tha● which they ought to be of righ●. It is a band which 〈◊〉 men's will●● together, it is the guardian and ●utor of constancy and truth, the knot of civil society, which ●loseth & shutteth up all things most strongly with the name of God almighty, the chief precedent and ruler of all men's actions. And yet for all this, this is most certain and true, that if a man can obtain so much credit and favour with men, by living honestly and godly amongst them, as that his word may be taken without any further ado● it were better not to use any oath at all: but if it may not be otherwise, but for testimony of th● truth we must neede● swear, we must look that we use to do it as soberly and sparingly as we may. For the use of any thing whatsoever, if it be too vulgar and common, makes it to be neglected and despised. And in any case look well to it, that it be used to no other end but for assurance and confirmation of the truth; representing GOD before our eyes, sitting on high as protector of the faithful, and sharp punisher of perjured persons.  
Now from the honour dueunto God, the first cause of all, we must descend as it were a step lower unto that duty which we own unto the heavenly powers, ordained by God, for administration and government of the world, and in them also we must acknowledge a kind of excellency & constancy of virtue in their perfection, admiring the greatness of their creator, and honouring their ministery, employed for preservation and protection of us men.  
From thence let us go a little lower unto the reverence and respect which we own unto them, by whose means as through pipes and conduits chosen by God, we are derived into this world. And in this place we shall find that our country may justly challenge her prerogative, which under a feigned and compound name, comprehendeth an unfeigned, true and natural love. For good cause we own of duty more love unto our country, then unto all otherthings contained in the world: because indeed it containeth infolden and wrapped within her safety, the safety and good of every thing that we do love and cherish: and contrariwise with her all the rest will soon perish and be brought to nought. Out of the fountain of this worthy affection, what a number of worthy and excellent deeds have gushed and streamed forth? of some that have spent their lives for the good of their country: and other some which have been content to forego their own private injuries, for fear lest if they should have sought to have revenged them, they should have prejudiced the Commonwealth: of others that have chose to lead a miserable and sorrowful life, to the end that they might procure their country's quiet rest and happiness. Still represent and lay before your eyes your country which hath brought you into this world, and here preserveth you in safety, suppose that she is ever a redemanding & ask of you the rights of piety, and requiring the duty and devoir of a good & loyal citizen, and that she doth conjure you to seek and covet after her good by the country of your nativity, by the laws of your city, by the faith of civil society, by the safety of your parents, children and friends, and lastly by your own safety and good. I beseech you therefore to have more care of your country, then of all the world beside, and never prefer your particular profit before the good thereof: seek not to avoid the evil which is falling upon you by turning it upon he head.  
Now your country being once served in all dutiful sort, next a●ter in order of respect follow o●r parents to be regarded. For God having chosen them as the means whereby he useth to dispense and impart life unto us, as he hath in some sort made them partakers of his virtue, so is he willing to communicate unto them some part of his honour. If God hath granted us wi●e and virtuous parents, we ought to esteem them as gods upon earth, given unto us not only as means whereby we may live, but live a happy life, by their wi●e and virtuous education. If they be wicked and evil yet still we must remember that they are our parents, & therefore with patience endure their authority over us: and for the very names sake of father and mother, yield them help and secure o● every thing which we receive of them: that is ●o say, of our goods, persons and lives. And if we do so, we show that we bear homage unto nature, and yield condign thanks unto her for all her benefits.  
From our parents let us enter into consideration of our children, whom though we do not reverence with like affection, yet have we like care or rather a greater regard of their welfare. For seeing that God hath placed and put us in this world to guard and keep it, it seemeth that before we go out of the world, we are bound and obliged to subrogate and substitute others in our places to minister and serve the sovereign power in this common temple. The bringing forth of children is ours but in part, there be many things herein which contribute with us, but the bringing up and institution of them is altogether in our hands, which we must owe of duty, first unto God to whom we must present and offer them: secondly to our country, for whose service they are borne: and lastly to ourselves, which are to look for at their hands (if they be well and virtuously brought up) for all manne● of help & secure in our old age. Therefore for these and the like respects, we ought to be most vigilant and careful over them, and to procure as far as in us lieth their good.  
Now after our children follow our wives, who being united unto us by the law, and entering into society and fellowship with us, under the dear pledge of children which they bring us, ha●e a reasovable gr●at part in our affections. The sharp sauce of our life is sweetened by the sugar of their friendships, by their care the care of our business is abated, nay we may safely rest ourselves under their labours and industry: let us therefore have such a respective care over them, as they have over us; let us think and dream upon nothing but upon their rest and quietness, as being the moiety and the other half of ourselves. But especially let us make it known unto them, that we do not honour them for any pleasure which their youth or beauties may afford us; as well for fear lest if we do so, we happen to puff up their courages, and make them take more state upon them than necdeth: as also in this respect, that whereas this affection is founded and grounded upon such a slippery and running thing, it is to be feared lest the heat thereof be soon quenched: but let us respect and worship them for the faith and loyalty which we look for at their hands, for their good qualities and modest behaviours: and last of all, for the especial care which they have of their children's which are common between v● and them. And the better to provoke and stir them up to love and cherish us, let us show that we will not appropriate anything from them unto ourselves, but make them equally partakers of our goods, thoughts & affections. For this community of all things may greatly serve to nourish good will and amity between us, which is clean lost and abolished in the diversity of wills and determinations.  
This affection passeth from our wives unto their kinsfolk, which are allied unto us by nature, their running together with their blood, a secret inclination of good will and affection towards all them which are sprung from the same branch, and accordingly as they are nearer unto us in blood, so are we more lively affected towards them, & bound to perform and yield unto them nearer duties and services. Therefore herein as well as in all other matters to observe the order of nature, as being the sovereign ornament of all creatures, let us (as I have said before) so dispense the love and affection which we own unto our parents, as they do nearer concern and regard us, yielding them all manner of help and secure which can possibly be devised.  
Hitherto nature hath as it were with her own hand moved our affections: now we must of necessity come to speak of the motions and inclinations which virtue giveth, which bindeth us to love and honour virtuous & wise men. And truly of all the goods which we enjoy by the benefit of common society, there is no one that ought to be more esteemed and cherished, than the friendship and amity of honest men: for it is the very pillar and upholder of our happiness: it is she that governs our lives, sweeteneth our sour, and seasoneth our sweet: she giveth us in prosperity one upon whom we may bestow part of our goods and enjoy the comforts of our prosperity, who in time of affliction will be ready to secure and comfort us, one that can teach and instruct us in our youth● help and relieve us when we be old, assist and second us in our middle ages. And as the possession hereof is precious, so we ought to employ our wisdoms to have this friendship as perfect as may be. And to this end and purpose we must hunt and seek after men of the greatest merits, honouring and cherishing them as if they were sent from God to join with us in a society of certain noble and worthy actions. We must seek to purchase it by honest occasions: and having once gotten it, studie● to preserve it by a due performance of all duties. For all creatures, and principally men, are borne with a kind of inclination of love towards that which may any ways profit or avail them. And yet for all this, a virtuous man doth never measure his profit by the ell of goods (as we call them) or riches: but by the commodity which he receiveth & reapeth by his friends in the study of virtue. And if it so fall out that there be any commodity, be it never so small, to be parted between us & our friends, touching our goods and honours, or such like things, it shall be our parts to give place unto them: for all this cannot be better employed then in purchasing of true friends. On the contrary side, there is but one only reason which may excuse us from leaving their friendship and amity, and that is when they abandon reason and philosophy, which joineth and combineth us together. And yet this must be done very warily: for we may not be at plain enmity with them for all this. We must rather unrip then rend their friendships from us, and seek out all reasonable means (if it be possible) to bring them back again unto their duties, without blaming their actions, or checking their opinios: never fight with them, unless it be by way of disputation and discourse, which are the sacred weapons of true friendship: but though we lose all hope of prevailing with them this way, yet we may not become their open and professed enemies. For though a good man leave his friends when they leave off to be virtuous: yet not withstanding so it is, that in forsaking that friendship and familiarity which hath been in former time between them, he retaineth that common affection which ought to be amongst men, which bindeth them to wish well unto those which have not well deserved at their hands: telling them that this is to imitate God, which as he loveth the good, so he doth not hate the bad. And therefore we have a common saying, that a good man hath no enemies at all, because he hateth no body.  
Thus you see the degrees of affection which are between man and the things which are without him. But because it cometh so to pass many times, that they do draw us unto divers ends, and so hold us suspended in doubtfulness and incertainty, therefore we must establish a rule unto ourselves of preferring the former duties before the latter. We ought to make great account of an oath, and yet it were better broken then kept, if by keeping of it we offend God. We must of force highly reverence our fathers and mothers: and yet if their wills do contradict right reason, which is appointed by God himself to govern us, we must rather forsake them, then forsake God and reason. Our kinsfolks are to be esteemed dear unto us, but yet if they seek to annoy and molest father or mother, we may lawfully descent from them. Friends may prevail much with a man, his wife and children much more: and yet for all this, there are certain particular and private duties which are rather to be performed to them which are further off from us, then to them which be nearer: but commonly it is in a matter of no great weight when civil society (because of the common necessity of men) encroacheth and usurpeth somewhat upon nature. As when we say we should help our neighbour in fetching in of his harvest, and not our kinsman, and in such like cases.  
I have hitherto, as you see, represented unto you the respect which man oweth unto things which are without him: it is now high time to cause him to descend into himself, and bring back his affections unto his own proper person, as lines are reduced unto their centre. A wise man without doubt yieldeth much respect unto himself: and though no body regard him but his own conscience, yet he will be very careful that he do neither speak nor do any thing which is not fit and convenient. For right ordered reason, which ought to govern all his actions, is unto him the severest judge and censor of his actions that can be found. And therefore we must study as well pub●kely as privately so to frame and fashion our actions in such sort, that we may not have occasion to blush and be ashamed of them: & that nature which ought to be ●he rule of all our actions, be not violated in any sort. Now it hath pleased nature to give us a body, as a necessary instrument for the preservation of man's life. Therefore we must take care for the body, but no otherwise then we would do for a thing which is under the protection of the mind, which must be careful for the safety thereof, but no ways serviceable unto it: he must entreat it so as if he were a Lord and no tyrant over the body, still nourishing it without engrossing or fatting it: so that it may evidently appear unto all men that he doth not live for it, but that he cannot live without it.  
A cunning workman is not a little forward in his business, when he hath gotten all his tools about him in a readiness: and so he that loveth philosophy doth not a little thing profit himself, if he do but once know how to serve himself with his body, and make it a fit instrument for him to exercise virtue. Now the body may be preserved in health two manner of ways: the one is by moderation in his diet: the other, by good order in his exercise. For why the nature of things here beneath is so slippery and uncertain, that unless a man do continually repair that which time doth waste and consume, things will by little and little come in the end to nought. Therefore we must sustain and help the body once decaying by use of meats; but with this proviso or caveat, that we do not make it, by making too great cheer, heavy, dull, and unfit for contemplation: nor by too spare diet and ill entreatance, weak and sickly: so that it be neither effeminated with riot, nor by neglect of it accustom itself to filth and beastliness.  
After meat followeth exercise, although they seem to be confounded and to follow one an other indifferently. For first we exercise ourselves, and then we take our repast: and after meat than we fall a fresh to exercise: the first exercise serves to prepare us to the better appetite and receiving our meats: the second, to waken nature, and keep the parts of the body in continual motion. We must use our exercises so, that the body may be the better for them, and our mind nothing the worse: but we must not seek such exercises as wrestlers use, and such like, which do all things by compass and measure, and many observations, which serve indeed to keep the body upright & strong, & to no other use: but thereby they weaken the strength of the soul, and take away from her her true and natural motions. It is an absurdity for a wise man to be careful for to find out fit exercises for the body, seeing that he may find every where so many as are requisite and needful for the health thereof.  
After the body is once nourished and exercised in such sort as I have showed you, it is most easily fashioned and framed unto modest & seemly actions, which we should so much regard and labour to attain unto, that in our very countenances and gate should appear a great tranquillity of mind, mixed with a sober & pleasant kind of gravity. I do not speak this as if I would have you to use any affectation in your countenance and gestures, as to look with the flatterers smile, or the Philosopher's frown. For as a sober gravity maketh a man to be reverenced of all: so a kind of portlike and constrained austerity, makes him to appear ridiculous and odious unto all.  
But because it is speech which giveth life unto our countenances and dead gestures, therefore we must take great heed that we be able to rule and govern it. And surely the best precept which we can give any man in this case, is silence. For to know how to be silent with reason is a great advantage, if a man mark it, to him that means to speak well: ●or it is not possible for a man to speak well, & to speak much, one man cannot do both. Silence is the father of discourse and fountain of reason: contrarily in much talk there is much offence. They that aim directly at anything, shut one of their eyes and wink with the other: and wherefore do they so? but to strengthen and increase the virtue of their sight. This teacheth us that the senses being cast abroad, do by the very pouring forth of themselves wax feeble & weak: and even so is it with the spirit, being cast abroad by speech, and scattered and difused into many words, it loseth his force and virtue. But on the contrary side, if it be restrained with silence, it gathereth his wont strength, and stores himself with prudence and wisdom. The use of words when occasion bids us speak, aught to be this: to aid the truth, and to carry the candle before her that she may be seen: & contrariwise to discover and reject lies and untruth: to praise that which is good, and blame that which is otherwise. We must not accompany our speech with too great vehemency or contention, for this showeth our passions. Again, we must not use to discourse of matters that do happen in common assemblies or theatres, or to entertain them that be in our company with such or the like discourses: for this showeth much leisure and small profit.  
Furthermore, it is not convenient to stand much upon our actions, or to tell men what we have done, & what hath chanced unto us in our times: for there is much vanity herein. Others peradventure take not so much pleasure in hearing you talk, as you do in telling & recounting your own vanities. To speak of other men's actions, without offence, is a very dangerous and hard matter: for either we commend them without reason, or else blame them without knowing their intention. But above all other things, let us take heed of making songs of men, or laughing and gibing at them: for so doth every common jester, and it makes us lose our reputation with good men. Besides, these jests are for the most part mixed with filthy and lewd words, which we should shun and avoid. Now the liberty of speaking unhonest and unseemly words, draweth after it the like effects. But we must strive (if it be possible) that our words may redound to the profit of them which shall hear us, that they be stuffed with good and wholesome precepts, that they serve to bring them back unto the study of virtue which wander in the way of sin and wickedness. In our common discourse we must avoid too profound and subtle questions. For a man may compare them to creyfish, which afford a man more picking worth then meat: the end of them is nothing else but brawls and contention: and most commonly it so ●areth with them as it doth with men that have weak stomachs, which vomit up all that which they cannot well digest. As we desire to have audience when we speak ourselves, so must we be attentive to other men's speeches, and hear them to the end without interruption. We must not accord and agree unto all that is said: for there be some which will not stick to say anything, and others that will contradict them as fast: some be flatterers, others be rash and inconsiderate: but we must yield our consents to that which is evidently true, and peremptorily deny that which is evidently false, and in doubtful things suspend our judgements, till we have found some reason or ground to stand upon.  
Now because a man's words and gestures are framed by long custom and imitation of others, we should not sort ourselves too much with the common sort of people, or haunt the theatres and common places of assembly, or have often recourse to feasts and banquets: for in every one of these places it is not possible but a man should draw some vile humour or other from the common people. If it so happen that we must needs be there for ourhonours and credits sakes, yet we must always have our minds so strait bound, that we will not remit a jot of our courage and resolution, that is, to govern ourselves in like sort as I have showed you before. And the better to strengthen & fortify ourselves, let us in each thing that we go about, lay before our eyes the examples of wise and grave men, and imagine with ourselves what a Socrates or a Zeno would have done, if they had been in our places: and by and by you ●●all see their virtues will minister unto us an example of well doing. But the best lesson of all which Philosophy can teach us to behave ourselves in all our actions, is carefully to set down and examine with ourselves the proceeding and ending of every business which we do take in hand, to measure our strengths and ability, & try whether it be not proportionable unto our desseignements. He that taketh wise counsel before hand, shall soon arrive at his wished port: but he● that taketh no counsel, is like unto him that floats up and down in a river, he● doth not go whither he● would go, but is violently carried away against his intended course, and so committing himself unto the mercy of the floods, arriveth at length at the sea: that is to say, a vast and turbulent kind of incertitude.  
Therefore before we enterprise any matter, let us wisely foresee what the end of it is likely for to be, then let, us consider what means we have to achieve it, and so we shall be able even in thought to prevent all evil chances that are likely to encounter us. Would you ●aine be one of them which exercise themselves at the games of Olympus? think then how much it behoveth you to bestir you, if you will do it for your credit's sake, you must live by rule and square, diet yourself to certain meats, and certain hours, accustom yourself to heat and cold, anoint your body with oil, then have dust thrown over it, enter within the lists, be hurt, & it may be ●leane vanquished and disgraced. After you have wisely foreseen all this, consider the habitude and disposition of your body, whether it will brook this kind of exercise or no, and then undertake it if you please. If you have a desire to be of the Philosopher's profession, represent & lay before your face the manifold troubles which your poor ●oule must be contented to endure: as to be deprived of many pleasures and commodities, and with great patience to suffer all the world to gibe and jest at you. If your courage will serve you to endure all this and a great deal more, you may take this course of life upon you: but when you have one undertaken it, forego or foreslow it not at any hand, constantly persever and follow your determination as a law inviolable. For besides this inconvenience which cometh by changing our purposes, that it maketh our minds doubtful and uncertain, there is this harm in it, that it causeth us to become ridiculous unto others: where on the contrary side, constancy in the end makes us to be admi●ed of them which at the first laughed and jested at us.  
And because I would not have you be terrified with men's judgements which they shall give concerning your actions● let this be all your care and industry, that your actions be such as they ought to be. Do not study to conceal or hide them from them which say they do not like them; if they be not good, it behoved you not then to have done them; and if they be good, the better they shall be known the more assurance shall you have of them. I do not speak this as if my meaning were that you should covet to be seen in well doing, or call all the people about you to see your virtues, as they do which betake themselves unto Images for sanctuary. As the colour shineth and glistereth in the day time, yet seeks not the Sun to come and gild it; only stands ready priest to receive the light thereof when it shineth: even so virtue ought not to seek and hunt after glory, but only be ready disposed to entertain and admit of it, as the testimony of those which judge unfeignedly of he● merits. He that loveth praise and ostentation, forsakes reason to follow opinion: for he● setteth down this as a main rule unto himself, that he had rather please another man then himself.  
There is nothing which can help us so much to make that sort well which we have luckily undertaken, as the taking of times and opportunities. For time carrieth with it certain moments, which are the seasons and opportunities of business. If you lose them, or let them slip, you lose all your labour and pains. But if occasion be once taken with opportunity, and followed with diligence, you shall seldom miss of your purpose, but have always good success in your affairs. And therefore we must look that that which hath been maturely deliberated and thought upon, be speedily put in execution: and let us not accustom ourselves to post that over to the morrow, which may be as well done the same day. But when we do anything, though we do it never so wisely, take all advantages, choose all opportunities, use all possible diligence: yet for all this we must know that the greatest part of the event is altogether over mastered by Fortune. We are lords and masters of our counsels and determinations, but all the rest dependeth upon other matters which are not in our power. And therefore we can do no more but undertake a matter with wisdom, pursue it with hope, and be ready to suffer whatsoever shall happen with patience. If good enterprises have bad success, the answer which the noble man of Persia made, may serve for an excuse to all them which are wise, but unfortunate. One was desirous to know of him wherefore (seeing that he knew him to be a very wise & valiant gentleman) his affairs went no better forward. Because (quoth he) in my affairs I can but give good counsel, that is all I can do, the success belongeth altogether unto Fortune or God that is Lord over her. Therefore it is sufficient for us if we do all that belongeth unto us, that is, if we attempt nothing but with a good end, and follow it not but by lawful and honest means.  
Thus at the length (to grow to an end) you have heard discoursed unto you the principal laws which the Stoics think expedient to use for the better ordering and governing of man's life: but because laws without judgements are nothing worth, but like dead words, therefore if we will make our profit and benefit of them, we must every day in the evening narrowly ●i●t and examine ourselves, to see whether our actions be conformable unto the rules which have been taught us, smoothing that which is rugged, and closing up all chinks and holes: and last of all, making that which is crooked right, by rectifying and righting it according unto the rule of reason: but if we ●inde that all things sort as they should do, and that every thing is very conformable unto these holy ●●d sacred laws, we shall receive a secret joy into our hearts, which shall be the pleasant fruit which we shall reap of our innocent and unspotted lives. This shall be in my opinion the sweetest and most melodious night song which we can sing unto God: for I am verily persuaded that he taketh not so much pleasure and delight in any thing here in this lower world, as in seeing man his dearest and costliest work, keep and maintain his beauty & perfection wherein he was at the first created. But because such is the nature of things created, by reason of the natural infirmity and weakness which they do carry about with them, that the good which God bestoweth upon us as soon as we are borne, doth daily waste and consume away, ●●lesse it be continually repaired and supplied by the flowing streams of his bounty and liberality which run continually: and whereas our natural forces can never be sufficient of themselves to keep us in this perfection, l●t us add unto the former canticle an Epode or sacred song of enchantment, in invocation of his divine favour; let us (I say) continually all the days of our life, at the very same hour close up this present action with this prayer, saying: O almighty, all wise, and all merciful God, which hast given us an understanding mind to know how to govern and direct the course of our lives; make us to know and love the excellency where with thou hast adorned us, 〈◊〉 the end that when it shall come to move the powers of oursoules, it may find our members and senses purged of all manner of passions, ready and prompt to follow and obey it. Take away from the eyes of our minds the trouble some clouds & mists which ignorance or covetousness doth cast before them, to the end that our reason being cleared by the light of thy divine truth, we may always address ourselves unto the searching and following after that which is the true and everlasting good, which shall continue for ever and ever.  
FINIS.