THE ENGLISH nun. BEING A Treatise, wherein (by way of Dialogue) the Author endeavoureth to draw young & unmarried Catholic Gentlewomen to embrace a Votary, and Religious Life.  
Written by N. N.  
Hereunto is annexed a short Discourse (by way of Conclusion) to the Abbesses, and Religious women of all the English Monasteries in the Low-countries, and France.  
Enter you by the narrow Gate (meaning of Austerity) that leadeth unto Life: because large is the Way that leadeth to Perdition.  Matth. 7. 
Present yourself a chaste Virgin unto Christ.  2. Cor. 11. 
Permissu Superiorum. M. DC. XLII.   

THE EPISTLE DEDICATORY. To the young, and unmarried Catholic Gentlewomen of England.  
WORTHY, and virtuous young Gentlewomen: My pen for your spiritual good, is willing in these ensuing leaves, to spread itself. You are all Catholics in faith and profession, and therefore the more apt to receive (if so God's Grace be not wanting) the impression of the advice & counsel, which in this Treatise is given.  
My main project at this present is, since you all (to whom I write) as yet remain in your chaste and virginal state, & free from marriage, to persuade you (what in me lieth) to abandon this Wicked World, and to embrace a Votary and Religious life. A hard labour (no doubt) in your judgements, but facile and easy to such of you, who have a feeling, & true apprehension of the joys of heaven, and torments of Hell.  
I do not speak this, as if one in a married state could not arrive to heaven, and avoid Hell. Noah, God forbid; For I acknowledge with the Apostle, 
a Hebr. 13.  marriage to be honourable, but withal I hold Virginity to be more honourable. I here only propound the most secure way to come to heaven, and escape Hell. And here I demand, if any of You were married, and after the death of your husbands, were to enjoy a great, and rich jointure, of a thousand, or two thousand pounds yearly; would you not be desirous, that besides the common Course of making jointures (which perhaps might be subject to some danger) to take (by your learned counsel) the best means for the ratifying and better securing of your Right to your said jointure? I know, you would be most solicitous herein.  
You all pretend Title to the kingdom of heaven; a kingdom infinitely surpassing in worth, all worldly jointures that the whole Earth can afford; and will you then content yourselves to seek by the common, and ordinary Course of a Secular life, to obtain this kingdom (in which state, as I grant, many living have gained it, so incomparably far many more have lost it;) but that rather you will enter into that Vocation (how severe, how strict, how cross soever to flesh and blood it shall seem) which may give you greater assurance, and more strengthen your Interest, and Title to that most Blessed kingdom?  
This Treatise I have composed in form of a feigned Dialogue, as hoping that thereby you will be sooner induced to the reading and perusing it at full; then if it were written in one long continued speech, without any vicissitude, or change of Persons.  
In the Persons here feigned by supposal, I have thought good to incorporate all the Reasons (as delivered by them) chiefly moving to a Religious & retired Life; as also such objections, as commonly are made against that most happy Course; as you may be more fully instructed by perusing the Argument, or subject hereof next following.  
And seeing the chiefest bar, & ●et in women to a monastical life, is desire of marriage, & hope of children; I will (besides what is treated thereof hereafter) insist here a little, discovering the insufficiency of this motive; showing that the accustomed miseries of a married life, and of having issue, ought much rather to sway with women, for their forbearance of Marriage.  
And first, whereas life is the dearest thing to man or woman; yet we find, that besides the certain great pains of childbirth, life itself in young married women, is for the most part, every one, or two years greatly endangered to be lost: witness hereof is the daily experience of women dying in Childbed.  
What true desire than can a woman have to undertak that course of life, wherein lieth so great a peril of losing that (I mean he●Lyfe,) which is most dear unto her; and that her body thereby shall, before its prefixed time by God, become meat for worms  
If any one of you had a jewels set with rich and Orient pearl, valued at some hundreds of pounds, how careful would you be in keeping of it? & how would your care be doubled from endangering the loss of it, at any time? And yet only for the enjoying of a little momentary pleasure (attended after with multitude of miseries) you can be content so often to hazard the loss of your own life, the most precious jewel, that God & Nature hath bestowed upon you in this world. O fondness of judgement!  
But to proceed. Admit, that a woman in bringing forth her Children, should be freed from all danger of death; yet to how many other insupportable afflictions doth she become thrall, & lie open? For we observe (and this not seldom) that the Husband becomes unkind, withdrawing his love and affection, from whence it is due, & placing it on others where it is not due. Again, the Husband (I mean, no few number of them) doth oftentimes dissipate and waste his Estate and Patrimony in sensuality and riot, to the utter overthrow or beggary (in the end) of himself, his wife, and Children.  
But suppose, the Husband be exempt from these disorders; yet ●f the wife have many Children, falleth it not often out, that the children through the negligence of their Father, are brought up in all liberty and dissolution, to the inconsolable grief of the poor Gentlewoman their Mother, & to the eternal Damnation of the children's souls? And what comfort then can that woman have, to be an instrument of bringing forth that Child, who shall become for ever, an heir of hell-fire?  
O how many wives are there in England, who find by over late, & too dearly bought experience, all this to be true, which I here affirm, of the frequent dangers, griefs, and afflictions of mind commonly accompanying Marriage? From all which languors of spirit, that woman delivereth herself, who forbearing marriage doth determine to lead a Religious life.  
In proof of the Truth her said, I appeal even to the certain knowledge of divers of your selves, who, if you will but cast your ●es upon some of your own ●yndred, and friends, (at least of our acquaintance, that live in ●ate of marriage) must needs confess that all, or divers of the a●●re mentioned miseries and calamities, do daily oppress many ●f them. You are yet free; beware ●en of such dangers. Nor will any further enlarge myself in ●his place upon this subject, but will refer you to the serious peru●ll of the book itself.  
If this Discourse were a second Sir Philip Sidney's Arcadia, reating of amorous conceits; with what a greediness would many of you read it? Condemn then your own want of spiritual fervour in such of you, as but only vouchsafe to cast a curious eye here & there upon these leaves; & yet it may be in part said, that this book in general discourseth of the same subject, of which the Areadia doth; to wit of love. But the Arcadia, of sensual and Vayn● love, attended on with sin, and Repentance; This, of chaste, and holy love, whereby a soul by solemn vow espouseth herself to Christ her bridegroom: so verifying those words of the A Present 
b 1. Cor. 11.  you a chaste Virgin Vre●● Christ.  
I only wish, that what Cosmophila (a feigned young Gentlewoman in this Dialogue) is supposed to do, you really, and truly would act her scene, in your proceedings: So might you by a mortified life, not only avoid all spiritual dangers both of foul and body; but infallibly purchafe to yourselves, an eternal crown of Glory.  
If any of you reap such profit by this my Labour, as by the ●eading hereof, to shake hands for ever with the vanities of the world, and happily to cloister yourselves in some devout Monastery; how fully should I think ●ny pains to be recompensed herein? And with this I cease, inreating your remembrance of he (only for my intention at east, and endeavour of aduaning your spiritual good) at the best times of your devotions.  
Yours in all Christian Charity. N. N.   

The Explication of certain Greek Nam●●●vsed in this Treatise.  

Caelia, A woman exercising a Heauen●●● life.  
Cosmophila, A woman, that loveth 〈◊〉 World.  
Christophila, A woman devoting her l●●● to Christ.  
Monadelphus, One only Brother.  
Orthodoxus, A man professing the 〈◊〉 faith.  
Gynoecia, Womanhood.  
Belgiopolis, A city in Belgium, or 〈◊〉 Low-countries.    

The Argument, or subject of the ensuing Dialogue.  
ORthodoxus, an imaginary Catholic Knight in England, and of a great State, hath three Children by his Lady Gynoecia; two Daughters, & one son: The elder daughter is called Caelia; the younger Cosmophila; His son Monadelphus. Calia is permitted with consent of her parents, to become Religious, and accordingly is sent over unto an English Monastery of nuns, in Belgiopolis.  
Whiles she is in her noviceship; or year of Probation, her Brother Monadelphus dyeth. Hereupon Orthodoxus writeth to Caelia (since as yet she was not professed) to return back, because (for want of heyres-males) he was determined to dispose of both his daughters in marriage, and to divide (after his death) his State between them.  
He receaveth no answer from Calia. In the end, Orthodoxus is forced to send his younger daughter Cosmophila to Caelia, to persuade her return. Cosmophila, as being fully instructed by her Father, (who furnished her with divers objections, commonly made against a Religious life) was most earnest with her Sister to satisfy their parents desire; and this in the presence of the Confessarius, and abbess of that Monastery.  
Caelia remaineth constant and immovable in her pious Resolution. The Confessarius learnedly displayeth the weakness and insufficiency of all those Reasons and Arguments which Cosmophila brought. That done, he beginneth to discourse in a most full manner of the Dignity, Worth, Excellency, privileges, & Benefits of a monastical Life.  
His speeches, by little and little, did so strongly work with Cosmophila, as that she fully repenting her of former persuasions to her Sister, wholly altereth her judgement; is resolved to lead the same Religious life with Caelia; taketh the Habit of the Monastery; beginneth her noviceship, and changeth her former name into Christophila.  
The two daughters write a joint letter to their parents, acquainting them with what hath fallen out. They withal entreat the Confessarius to write (with theirs) his own letter to Orthodoxus and his Lady. He agreeth to their request.  
Their parents receiving these Letters, were at the first much aggrieved. But within some small time after, partly by force of the said Letters, but chiefly seeing they saw it was God's will and Ordination, that their only sonne should die; both their daughters should become Religious; & that they should (as being hopeless of more issue) leave no heirs. Male of their own bodies behind them, they humbly submit themselves to God's good pleasure therein.  
They do so repentingly acknowledge their former error in dehorting of Caelia, as that both being well strooken in years, they resolve for satisfaction of that fault, to live no longer together as man and wife; but to spend the rest of their life in a Religious Course. Hereupon Orthodoxus acquainteth the Confessarius by Letter, that he intendeth to enter into some Religious House of the Capuchins; and Gynoecia into the Monastery, where her two daughters do remain.   

THE dialogue.  
COSMOPHILA being sent over into the Low-countries, by her Father Orthodoxus (as is before declared) with instruction, and order to bring back her sister Caelia into England; and now safely arrived at Belgiopolis, meeting with a reverend Man ●n the street, courteously saluteth him in this manner.  Cosmophila. 
Reverend Sir, God save you. It seems by your habit, that you are a clergyman, and so in likely hood the better able to satisfy my demand. I am a Stranger, and an English woman, and but at this very hour arrived, with my servants, to this Noble city of Belgiopolis. My desire is, that you would be pleased to direct me, unto the Monastery of the English nuns in this town.  The Confessarius. 
Gentlewoman (and it should appear by you● attendance, of Worthy State and Condition I will not only satisfy your request, but wi●● myself conduct you to the Monastery: for am the Confessarius to the Religious and virtuous women of that House. Therefore, if 〈◊〉 please you, let us go together, for it is clo●● by. This is the Monastery. Come in, and re●● yourself a while in this room, till I sha●● send for the Lady abbess unto the Grate t● speak with you, and entertain you according to your worth. And lo, where she approacheth.  The abbess. 
Is there any one here, who would speak with me?  Confessarius. 
Yes madam: For as I was passing through the Streets, I overtook this worthy Gentlewoman, a stranger, and English (as she saith) by birth. She desired me, to show her this Religious house; but what the cause of her coming hither is, or why she is desirous to see this house, I know not. No doubt she will acquaint your ladyship with her motives thereof.  Abbess. 
Gentlewoman: Are you the party, that would speak with me? If it please you then, you may relate your business.  Cosmophila. 
I am. And herewith I am to make known unto you, that I have a Sister in this your house, called Caelia, whom I would gladly see; And to her I shall impart all the particulars of my long, and tedious journey.  Abbess. 
I will send for her, to come unto you presently. And here she cometh: Sister Caelia, ●now you this English Gentlewoman who you ●ee on the other side of the Grate? She saith, ●e knoweth you.  Caelia. 
O God It is my Sister Cosmophila (for we ●oth had one Father and Mother:) dear Sister, ●ow do you? How do our parents? Are they health?  Cosmophyla. 
Most loving Sister, how glad am I to see ●ou? Our parents are in good health of body; But our only good Brother Monadelphus (for you know we had but one, and therefore we were usually for many years accustomed so to call him) since your departure out of England, is dead, (to the inconsolable grief of my Father and Mother) though I trust he live with Christ Jesus in heaven. And his death is the only occasion, why my Father hath sent me unto you: With the cause whereof, seeing this Religious Lady is in the end to be acquainted, I think it convenient to declare it in her presence; though from others I would have the matter concealed. But must in the mean time, this unkind, or rather envious Irongrate (through which I only yet but see you) must it (I say) bar us from mutually embracing one another, now after my wearisome journey, of so many miles, both by sea and land?  Abbess. 
Mistress, it shall not: you shall have free access to come in, to speak, & converse with your Sister: Our house is not of that severe disposition, as to forbid that familiar consolation of Sisters, which even Nature, and all moral civility warranteth. Nevertheless you do prudently, to acquaint me with any private business, which may pass between you and your Sister, for it is the custom of our house (as also of other monasteries) that no particular discourse of moment shall pass between any of our Sisters, and Strangers (how near soever they be in kindred) without the privity of the abbess, or of some other appointed by her order. Therefore come with me, I will take you into a retired place, where not any shall be present, but this our reverend Father Confessarius (to whom is ordinarily made known the greatest business of our house) myself, you, and your Sister Caelia. Well: Now here you are; You may freely impart the occasion of your coming, to your Sister, and so to us both.  Cosmophila. 
Well then Good Sister, let me first salute & embrace you. Now touching the business, this it is: Take notice, that, as I have abous told you, our only Brother is dead; In regard hereof my Father hearing, that as yet you have not made any Vow of a Religious life, nor yet in conscience stand obliged to any such spiritual course, you being only in your noviceship; He is desirous therefore, that you return presently into England with me; for his meaning is (through want of heyres-males,) to devyde his living between us, which, to speak sparingly, is two thousand pounds yearly; himself as you know well, being a knight (if so I may deliver it with modesty) of good place and rank. He wrote to you some months since about this business, but it seems his letters did miscarry; and therefore he was the more willing to send me unto you, to persuade you to satisfy herein his just desire: Therefore seeing we are Sisters in Nature, I hope you will bear to my speeches a Sisterly, and listing ear. And since you are the elder Sister, my Father commanded me to tell you, that upon your marriage, he will bequeathe to you at his death the better part, or moiety of his state and living. This is the tenor of my message, and it is warranted with such strong Reasons and motives, as that I cannot be persuaded, but that you will conform yourself to our Father herein with all promptitude and readiness of Resolution; and that you will within few days prepare yourself for your return with me into England.  Caelia. 
O dear Sister, you could not have brought me a more distasteful and unpleasing message, than this: I am most sorry that our Brother is dead (and yet we all must once die,) but that his death should be the occasion of my forsaking my intended (and now entered into) course of life. I infinitely loath. Therefore O most merciful Redeemer Jesus Christ (to whom I am already devoted in soul, never to espouse any but thyself) here upon my knees, I most humbly beseech thee, even by the force of thy bitter passion, so to strengthen & fortify the weakness of my Sex with thy alovercomming grace, as that neither the ghostly Enemy of man's soul, nor any temporary or vain allectives, or motives may be of strength to work so upon my judgement, as ever to bear me from the station of my present Resolution, to embrace a monastical & votary life. O Good God; of whom it is said, That thou 
a Psal.  choosest the weak to confound the strong; arm my imbecility with thy succurrency and help, to subdue all assaults, which either the Enemy, or the World shall be able to plant against me.  Abbess. 
Rise up dear Sister Caelia; you have spoken well; and I assure myself, God will not be wanting with his grace towards you. For he never forsaketh that party, who putteth his trust in him: for we read: 
b Psal. 60.  God is a tower of strength from the face of the Enemy.  Cosmophila. 
What Sister? Must this be the message, the which I must return from you to your Father? Where then is your obedience to your parents? It seems it is wanting; & yet I have heard learned Clarks say, that 
* 1. King's c. 15.  Obedience is better than Sacrifice. Can it be an effect of a Religious life, to cast of that duty to our parents, which the Religion of God commandeth us ever to bear? Is it not one of the precepts, imposed upon us by God himself: Honour (
* Exod. 20.  thy Father and Mother, that thy days may be long upon earth? Therefore good Sister, recall yourself, and cast an eye of introversion upon your own actions. And let both you and me even meditate (according to our father's desire) of Husbands (of Husbands I say) the very sound of which word is so grateful to our sex. And let us both remember, that since we are borne to live in this world, we are for the time to be lovers of the world, and to be partakers of the Honours thereof; as to have our Coaches, our Attendance, brave and rich apparel, to live at London, and the like.  Caelia. 
O how do your words wound my poor heart with grief! And why do you cast an aspersion of disobedience upon me? I honour my Father, and Mother; yet I honour my Sweet Jesus more. My Father gave a being to my body in this world; God is the supreme Agent, giving a creation both of my soul and body: My Father entreats, but God out of his irresistible power, commands: My Father promiseth temporal lands, and preferments; God promiseth me an eternal & heavenly kingdom: Briefly, my Father hath maintained me being once borne, with necessaries to my life: God (being borne) hath redeemed me (being borne) with the effusion of his most precious blood, and ever since hath fed and nourished my soul with the celestial juice of his Grace-bringing Sacraments. Why then should my soul be so traitorous to his divine majesty, and so hurtful to itself, as to preferte a temporal Father, before a divine Father? Not: For in this sense my carnal Father ceaseth to be my Father; and here are iustifyed those words of our saviour: Call 
c Math. 23.  no man Father upon earth; for one is your Father, which is in heaven. Now, as for your sensual allurements of a Husband, of Coaches, rich apparel, and such like vain toys (for the love I be are to my dear Redeemer) I contemn them all.  Cosmophila. 
Well Sister, I grieve to find you so strongly enthralled to your own judgement; therefore the more easily to reclaim you from your settled Obstinacy (pardon me for using towards you so unkind a word,) I will be content, you shall continue in this your Resolution, if so I cannot give you sufficient Reasons for your alteration thereof: Only I expect, that force of Reason (once being discerned) may take place in your soul, and that it may be of strength to void it of all partia●ity of judgement. Therefore, Sister, you must call to mind, that it was first your extraordinary and impatient desire of taking this your intended course, which extorted (and as it were wrung out) a consent from my Father and Mother, for your coming into these parts. For I have often heard my Father talk of the dangerous state of a Religious life; and how it is beset with many difficulties; though the state of Religion, as it is merely considered in itself, and abstracted from those difficulties, he ever (as being a Catholic) did much approve and reverence: therefore I will make bold, with the good licence of your Lady abbess, and Confessarius here, to relate to you (so far as my weak memory will serve) divers of my father's speeches, an he discoursed often with my Mother, touching this subject.  Abbess. 
We give you free liberty therein, hoping that our Father Confessarius will lay open and display the weakness of all your Reasons ane motive impugning a Religious life; which point being once performed, will much fortify your Sisters already embraced Resolution: and truly I partly fear by your ouer●ures and secret dislike of a retired course of life that those words used by our saviour in the gospel to the two Sisters (it so a woman may without overmuch boldness, allege passages of Scripture) may in part be verified of you and your Sister: Martha, 
* Luc. 10.  Martha, sollicita ●●erg a plurima, Maria optimam partem elegit quae non auferetur ab ea. Cosmophila, Cosmophila, you labour much about these worldly advancements; but your sister Calia hath chosen the best part, which shall not be taken from her.  Cosmophila. 
Well then. My Father (who you know i● a scholar, and was an university man for many years) did much insist in the difficulties and austerities necessarily accompanying a Religious life; as much fasting, much praying, rising in the night, Obedience to the superior, poverty, perpetual Chastity, and the like; Things most adverse to man's nature, and such, as they beget an horror in the minds both of men and women, from undertaking so rigid a course of life. To the undergoing then of these unsupportable burdens, you tie your elf (good Sister) if so you prosecute your lately begun state: Therefore I hold it more secure both for your soul and body, rather to withdraw back your foot in time, then to go on forward, and in the midst of your dangerous journey to faint, and to say secretly to your soul: O that I had not entered into this ●horny way of Religion, but had lived a good Catholic in England.  Confessarius. 
Women out of their want of reading, and specially young novices (such as our Sister Caelia is) are perhaps not able to solve all the objected Arguments, made by sensual men against a votary life: Therefore I being the Confessarius to this virtuous Monastery, hold ●t my duty and function, to refute all such vr●ed Reasons. To this then your first objection I say; I yield, that the votary life hath ●s difficulties; but these difficulties proceed ●ot from the nature of the life itself; but ●ur own corrupt flesh, not subiecting itself ●o Reason, is the cause of them. For certain it is, since a strict service of God, is sortable t●Reason, that therefore this service is pleasing to a Man of Reason: I further answer, tha● there are two things, which much sweet the pains of a Religious life. First & principally, the Merit thereof; the subject of which Merit is, the enjoying the eternal felicity o● heaven. So true is that saying in Scripture 
d Rom. 8.  The Passions of this time, are not worthy of the glory to come, which shall be revealed unto us. And upon this ground we read, that S. Ignatius the Martyr had just reason thus joyfully to cry out in these fiery words: 
e Ignat, in Epist. add Romans.  Let fire the Cross devouring Beasts, the cutting of my body asunder, i● breaking of my bones, the dissipation of all my members, the distraction of all my body; Yea, let all the scourges and torments of the devil come upon me, that I obtain Jesus Christ. But what are all the afflictions incident to a Religious life, to be compared for the enjoying of Christ, to the Torments, so earnestly thirsted after by thi● Blessed Martyr? Since these afflictions can b● but short, whereas the enjoying of Christ for ever; and certain it is, that nothing (i● compare of Eternity) is long, which is measured with the yard of time.  
The second thing, which much less nei● the apprehension and feeling of Monastica austerities, is the internal comfort, and consolation, with which God doth oftentimes vi● his servants, to make them more couragious● hold out in their begun conflict. And the in the sweetness of this spiritual wine, taste by the servants of God, all the sowry acc●dents belonging to a monastical life, are wholly absorbed and drowned. Hence it is, that our saviour saith: 
f Math. 11.  My yoke is sweet, and my burden light. And God the Father thus ●ollaceth a man for justice sake; 
g Psal. 90.  I am with him in his tribulation Finally, the Apostle out of his experience in tasting of God's most comfortable hand in the throng of his troubles spent in the service of God, thus bursteth forth: 
h 2. Cor. 7.  I am replenished with Consolation, & do exceedingly abound in joy, in all our tribulations. What say you now Cosmophila? Are the asperities of a religious life such, as they are not much sugared by God, for the better supporting and bearing of them? These passages and testimonies alleged by me, are the Written Ward of God: Either they are true, or God in his holy Scripture (which God forbid, that any Christian should so dream) is false. But if it please you, you may pass to your next imaginary bugbear (Serving only to affright Children) against a votary and virginal life.  Cosmophila. 
Indeed (Good Sir) I cannot deny, but that these two spiritual Medicines (so to call them) are able much to assuage the pains endured in Religion. But seeing it is your pleasure, I should proceed further in my father's former discourse of this subject, I will. The next point then, of which he would often speak is this, that if all men and women should become Religious, than the world would (contrary to God's preordination therein) soon perish, and be brought to an utter dissolution; and that each gentleman's particular house and family should instantly decay; since by this means the expectation of all posterity (marriage, and conversation between man & woman being wholly taken away) would presently fail.  Confessarius. 
It seems by this objection, that your Father is a scholar (as you said above,) and hath borrowed it out of the writings of S. Austin; who relating this very reason to be much urged by certain ancient heretics in disproof of a Religious life, doth answer the Argument in these particular words: 
i Austin. de bono coniug. c. 10.  Would to God, all men would do so (to wit, that men and women would live a single, chaste, and unmarried life) than the city of God would be sooner filled, and the end of the world would hasten on. Which answer is most warrantable; since it were far better, that the kingdom of God should presently come (which we daily beg in our Pater noster, and have been taught to beg the same by our saviour himself) then to produce & draw out our days in this uncertainty and confusion of dangers. Though this answer be very sufficient, yet S. Jerome giveth another solution hereto no less forcible, in this manner; fear not, lest all be Virgins; 
k Jerom. lib. 1. contra jovinianum.  Virginity is a hard thing, and therefore rare, because it is hard; Which answer taketh its strength from that sentence of Christ delivered of Virginity: 
l Math. 19  Not all receive this word.  
Now, whereas some may boldly reply (which perhaps, Cosmophila, you in modesty and bashfulness forbear to do) that the disparity of sex, and the faculties of generation would be but fruitless, and in vain, in such persons who will not marry, and use the act of generation; and that hereupon, it might seem to follow, that God, and Nature should work in vain (which were most impious and absurd to maintain) in giving both the Sexes those different faculties for generation, and yet for them to make no use thereof. But to this I answer, that what is instituted herein, is not instituted idly, and in vain; though in some particulars in that kind, it hath not its proper effect, so that in other particulars it have. For who observeth not, that in all kind of fruits and herbs, cometh a great quantity of seed, which is never sown, and that but a small part thereof is used to that ●nd; and yet we cannot accuse Nature, as if he had made it in vain, or erred therein?  
Now touching the decay of particular an●ient houses and families, whose absolute dissolution and extinguishment the forbeaance of marriage doth threaten; which mo●ue I presume prevails overmuch (Cosmophila) with your Father: Let us stir the ground little, about this reason, and observe how weak, and unworthy it is. True it is, that the ●●sse of an only heir is in some moderate ●●rt to be apprehended, and bewailed. But here I demand, whether the Sanctity of a soul doth not incomparably exceed the benefit of Posterity? Now these men (so much prizing posterity) need not to fear the want of an heir; For who is he, that hath not many of his Kindred, though perhaps not many of his name? Which point is only a poor privilege resting in a sound of few letters. And if he hath not any of his name, nor of his kindred; Yet there are many poor and distressed people in the world, among whom to distribute his state, is to make in them, Christ his heir, and this with most happy conditions: For one man, that is heir to another, cannot recompense the kindness of the party, being dead; But Christ doth at that time remunerate, or repay a man (making him his heir) with an eternal reward.  
Again, it is not certain (as it falleth out in your father's Case) that the only heir remaining, shall live, and have issue. And if this should so fortune, yet shall the line and succession at last fail and cease, & this (which is to be deplored) without thanks, or reward. The truth of which point experience daily assureth us; since how many ancient houses & families in our own Country of England, have within these last forty years, come to utter desolation and ruin; the very names of such families, being oftentimes wholly extinct, and buried in forgetfulness? Upon this point did S. Jerome much insist, when he persuaded Furia from marriage, thus speaking: 
m S. Jerome in● Epist. 10.  Dost thou fear, the line of Fu●ia should fail, and that thy Father shall not have a little one ●f thee to creep into his breast. Fear not, for all that are married, have not Children. It is a great oversight 〈◊〉 hope for certain, that which thou seest many have ●ot; and many lose it, when they have it. To whom ●en do I counsel thee to leave all thy riches? To Christ, who cannot die. What heir by thus doing shalt ●hou have? Him who is thy Lord and saviour. Thus ●r S. Jerome of this point▪ But to pass further in ●his subject, since it not only much swayeth with your Father, but with most worldlings, though otherwise in faith, and life they be Catholics.  
Let us balance a little the success to pre●●iue a man's family, with the happiness of a Religious life. Well then, it is ordained by God, ●hat not only particular men, but whole families shall once eye, though they continue many years for the time, and thus in the end ●hey are wholly brought to nothing Therefore what stupidity and dulness of judgement is it in man, so to feed himself with hope, for ever ●o continue his house and family with new offspring, and so much to covet the same, as to ●ppose himself to the counsel, and contrary determination of God therein, and thereupon ●o labour (what in him lieth) to prevent and ●inder God's ordinance?  
I will close up our discourse touching your objection, with this passage following: To ●it, that this thirsting and insatiable desire of ●ontinuing a descent in blood, is most unworthy a Christian, and rather more sorting a Heathen or infidel. And the reason even according to 
n Aristotiles l. 1. Polit. c. 1.  Philosophy is this: Beasts a●● men have a desire engrafted by nature to pe●petuate themselves, or for ever to prolong their being; because all things desire to be a● ways, and always to continue: But where this so much covered continuance cannot effected by themselves since they are all subject to death; they therefore labour to compass, and obtain it at least in their own kind, in which they seem (after a certain manner and degree) to live, so long as a● branch descending from them doth live. No● here I demand, what force hath this Reason the Philosopher in the light of Christianity, sin● Christian Religion assureth us o● a most certain and 〈◊〉 promise of Eternity our own persons, both in body and soul? therefore we need not to seek to obtain that in others, which we shall have in our selves. And thus far touching the weakness of the so common and so much pretended difficulty, That a Religious Course is a hindrance to the continuance of the world, and the preservation of wh● houses and Descents. But (good Cosmophila) yo● may (if it please you) come to other reason objected by your Father against a Votary li●●  Cosmophila. 
It was urged by my Father, that such ● profess a votary life, (whether men, or women) do much lie open to several dreadfu● temptations, as apprehending ●uer greatly the severity of that life, or the fear of abandoning their undertaken Course; thus having a conflict in themselves in resisting their own ever molesting passions; from which, such persons as live in the world, are most exempt & free. Yea, the Religious are so assured to undergo these spiritual Conflicts and temptations (& oftentimes also be overcome by them) as that I well remember, that my Father would allege in proof thereof these ensuing words of the Scripture: 
o Eccles. c. ●.  son coming to the service of God, stand in fear and trembling, and prepare thy soul for temptation. Now, what a dying life is this, for one to draw out his days in this spiritual war, and combat of Temptations, when a man must at every instant be ready to resist the forcible assaults of his Enemy? Or what repose or joy can any have thus living, or rather (since life it can hardly be called) but thus breathing?  Confessarius. 
It is a lamentable thing to observe, how ready men are to detort the sacred word of God, for patronising of their own pusillanimity and weakness, in going forward in Christ's service. True it is, that God's holy writ doth in the former words premonish the pious to expect Temptations; But withal we are to observe, that the Scripture doth not counsel us to avoid and decline a more holy life, by reason of these Temptations; but fore warneth us to be ready, and expect in resisting of the said Temptations, with the weapons above named; to wit, fear and Trembling The soldiers of this world do not for any fear forbear to fight in their Prince's behalf, but rather seek to encounter their Enemy: Shall then a soul thirsting after its own salvation, forbear the best means of obtaining it, for fear of the Temptations, which the spiritual Enemy (the devil I mean) shall suggest against it?  
To proceed further: certain it is, that women living in the world, are more thrall to Temptations, then Religious women. For secular persons lie open to every bait, and temptation, which either the devil, or the outward senses present unto them; they ever conversing, and traficking (as it were) in temporal and worldly affairs. Now, Religious women are freed from all outward occasions, and allurements of Temptations: Since there is a continual watch, and ward kept over them. For their outward Senses (as their ears, and eyes, and the rest) are barred and restrained from all such dangerous objects, as may occasion temptation. Again, their Institution, Orders of their House, Obedience to their superiors; yea the very walls themselves within which they are enclosed do guard them from all such dangerous and spiritual incursions. And which is infinitely more than all this, God hath obliged himself to minister means, (and principally his grace) to his servants for overcoming all Temptations, suffered for his sake: for these are the Apostles most cheerful words: 
p 1. Cor. 10.  God is faithful, who will not suffer you to be tempted above that, which you are able: but will make also with the temptation, a way to escape, that you may be able to sustain.  
I grant, it cannot be denied, but that Religious persons seem in a vulgar eye to suffer more Temptations, than the Laity doth. And the reason hereof is this: Religious persons, when they are once resolved to live a pious & retired life, do instantly begin to cast their eye back upon their former less virtuous Courses; and thereupon to see (so far as liberty is granted them) in what state their souls stand in God's sight, with intention to better their former careless proceedings. Now our ghostly Enemy not brooking this, as loath to lose that hold and interest, which he had in them, doth by all means cast before them temptations concerning a virtuous life, thereby more easily to withdraw them from prosecuting of the same. But to such of the Laity, as continue in the thraldom of the devil, by their bad and impious lives, the devil seems to sleep, (I mean) so long as they continue under his power and command, and this with good show of Reason: For he holds it better policy, to let them sleep in their sins without affrighting them with any fearful Temptations, then to disquiet them with such suggestions, they being already in his power.  
I will end this point of Temptations, urged to fall out in a religious life; whether these temptations have reference to austerity in Religion, as to Obedience, Chastity, poverty; or whether otherwise the temptation concern immediately either the Body or the soul; And I will only say, that of my own experience I have known many young English Gentlewomen of very nice Education, of weak constitution of body, and most dear to their parents, having once entered into a Religious and votary life, have most wonderfully overcome all such temptations; even betrampling under their feet all the stratagems that the devil, the flesh, and the World could cast before them (as stumbling blocks) to hinder their already undertaken Course of virtue. But what was the Cause hereof? To wit, the hope of eternal Felicity, and because they disclaimed from their own forces herein, & relied upon God's goodness and providence, for the overcoming of their temptations, and so veryfying in themselves those words of Christ: Sufficit 
q 1. Cor. 12.  tibi gratia mea; my grace and assistance is sufficient to give thee victory, over all thy enemies. And why then may not our Sister Caelia receive in her monastical life, the like favours and indulgence from God, which he daily imparteth to others? O let not any exclude themselves from receiving the spiritual blessing of God, the which he, with so large and bountiful a hand communicateth to those, who endeavour to serve him in all purity of soul and Body.  Cosmophila. 
I grant, I cannot deny but that there are divers Gentlewomen heretofore of my own familiar acquaintance, who have entered into Religion; whose tenderness of body and delicacy of breeding (I thought) could never have brooked the daily austerities therein used. And therefore to confess my private judgement herein, I have been forced to ascribe this their joyful perseverance to God's peculiar care, & goodness towards them.  
But to go forward in this our discourse: My Father would thus reason: The commandments of God are inviolable, and not dispensable: But one of the Ten commandments, given to his people is: 
* Exo. 20.  Thou shalt not kill. Well then, thus would he dispute: it we be commanded by God not to kill one another; much more are we commanded not to kill ourselves, since true it is, that a Homicide, who depriveth another man of his life, is most hateful in the sight of God; how execrable then is he in God's Eye, who becometh his own butcher? But many such persons there are (said he) who through entering into a most strict & severe order of a votary life, do often by their great fastings, little sleep, immoderate disciplines, and by other unaccustomed rigidnes (if not immediately kill, yet at least) shorten their own days, and draw the period of their life, to a far narrower compass, and number of years, than God otherwise hath ordained to them. Thus good Sir you see, that it may be averred (at least with some show of probability) that a Religious life (so much advanced by you, and entertained by my Sister) may seem to be prohibited, & forbidden by God's own hand-wryting.  Confessarius. 
O how wanton and bold is man's Nature to wrest and misconstrue God's holy word, for the impugning of that course of life, which God himself first instituted! For how can it be, that the ten commandments given by God to the Jews, should forbid that state of life, which God after ordained among the Jews? But here I must make bold to charge your Father with want of reading: For it seems he is ignorant, that among the Jews (God's chosen people) there were certain Religious men, called Essenes, of whom Josephus (the learned Jew) thus discourseth: 
q Joseph. an tiq. Judaic l. 28. c. 2.  The righteousness of the Essenes is marvellous; They enjoy their riches in common; and in this course, above four thousand men do live, having neither wives, nor servants. And further of them in another place: They are Jews by Nature, 
r Joseph. l 2. de bello Iudaic. c. 7.  and do observe Continency, avoid marriage, are Comemners of riches. With whom accordeth the learned Philo. a Jew, 
s Philo de vita contemplativa.  who speaks much of the same Essenes, of their Monasteries, and of their wonderful fasting from meat, saying of them: Vix semel triduo cibi recordantur: They scarce taste once of meat in the compass of three days.  
But to answer this your father's Reason more particularly; First I say, that worldly people (who are not reprehended for so doing) do undertake as great, or greater severities even for temporal respects, as religious women do for the gaining of heaven. How many Tradesmen are there, who watch most part of the night in labour, and spare diet, for getting of means to maintain themselves & their charge, with poor meat and mean clothes? How many sailors & seamen, beaten with cold, thunder, and storms, spend fewer hours in sleep, then Religious persons do, and all for a little dross and gain? Briefly, how many Lawyers are there in England, who living far from London, do consume a good part of the year only in travelling up and down from their own houses to the term, not regarding (like to ordinary Carries) any weather or foulness of the way whatsoever? And when they come to the term. all the forenoon they bestow in going to Westminster. pleading (it is to be feared) sometimes an unjust cause: and all the afternoon they do shut themselves up in a little closet, for their clients to resort unto them; which sitting course for so many hours would be most painful to other men: and all this vassalage they undergo, for scraping together a little gold and silver.  
If then temporal men forbear not such infinite drudgery, which in a common eye may seem to shorten their days, and yet they are not to be charged for hastening of their death; why then shall Religious women for undertaking lesser austerities for God's sake & desire of gaining of heaven, be reputed Killers of themselves, or guilty of their death? In this last place I say, that it is experimentally most certain, that worldly men, who live in all affluency, and abundance of riches and pleasures, do commonly live fewer years, then Religious persons do. For such temporal men through Epicurism, and delicacy of fare, or through intemperance in the sins of the flesh, do fill their bodies with crudities, raw humours, & divers diseases attending the same, whereby their lives are sometimes shortened: Whereas Religious persons, through their spare diet, moderate labour, and daily meditation of heavenly matters, have produced their lives to many years. According hereto (to insist in two or three particulars) we read, that S. Antony (the Hermit) lived a hundred and five years, S. Jerome who spent much of his time in the wilderness, lived a hundred years; and S. Romualdus also arrived to more than to a hundred years. So little Reason there is, to charge a Religious course, with shortening the lives of its professors.  Abbess. 
I pray you, Father Confossarius, and you Cosmophila, give me leave to urge one reason (as more fitting to be delivered by a woman) to prove, that religious women are less subject to shorten their lives, than other women who live in the world; and this is Childbirth. How many women are there in the world (though otherwise of most strong, and healthful constitution of Body) who have in the compass of a day, or two in the deliverance of their children, lost their lives? This point is so cuident, and daily subject to our hearing, that it were-lost labour to spend more words therein. Now, Religious women, who ever remain shut up in their Monasteries from the sight of men, are thereby exempted from this danger, by the which Lay-women do oftentimes come to a sudden and unexpected death: and it may be perhaps your fortune (Cosmophila) after your marriage to shorten your life by this means; whereas it is impossible, that your Sister Caelia, continuing in her present Resolution, should thereby abridge her days. But you may proceed (Cosmophila) in your other difficulties, and pretences against Religious women.  Cosmophila. 
I partly acknowledge the weakness of this my objected Reason, for I discover it for such, through the several answers above given thereto. But to prosecute my father's discourse of the former subject: He (more than once) would say, that one by embracing a votary or monastical life, doth thereupon even shake hands with the world, giving it, its last Adieu; since he depriveth himself of all the pleasures, which the world affords. And thus such a man or woman ceaseth to be themselves, forbearing the ends for which in some sort they were created. For they disclaim from all Riches, Honours, Marriage, corporal pleasures, and other consolations, and comforts whatsoever, which the world daily affoardeth to others. And this indeed I hold to be the greatest hindrance of all others, for entering into that retired course of life, whereunto you (reverend Sir) do so much persuade.  Confessarius. 
I am of your mind (Cosmophila) that this is the mainest obstacle of all others in this kind; yet I think it may be removed & taken away with as much facility (or more) than any other of your objected Reasons. And first, I discover the weakness thereof, by laying down the frequent Testimonies of God's holy Writ, which proclaim the world to be an utter Enemy to man's salvation; and thereupon do most forcibly dehort men from the love of the world, and from the pleasures thereof. Now who is so careless, or desperate of his salvation, that will contract an inviolable, or straight intercourse of friendship with his fatal & designed Enemy? And to begin: do not we find S. Paul thus to pronounce: 
t 1. Cor 3.  The wisdom of this world is foolishness before God? In like manner. S. James assenteth thereto in these words: 
u Iac. 4.  Know you not, that the friendship of this world is an Enemy to God? Who therefore will be a friend of this world, is mide an Enemy of God. S. John saith: 
x 1. John. 2.  love not the world; if any man love the world, the Charity of the Father is not in him. And again: The whole 
y 1. John 2.  world is set in wickedness. To come to S. Peter, who thus teacheth of this point: 
z 1. Petr. 1.  fly the corruption of the Concupiscence, which is in the world.  
Now, if the testimonies of Christ his Apostles should be little prevayling with you, I will close this point, with the sacred words of Christ himself, thus speaking to the Pharisyes, and Jews: (a) You are of this world; I am not of this world; thus excluding himself from the world, as a professed Enemy thereof. Yea our Blessed saviour proceedeth in words further against the world, thus speaking in his prayer to his heavenly Father: (b) I pray not for the world, but for those, which thou hast given me. O dreadful exception! What shall become of those persons eternally both soul and Body, for whom the Redeemer of the world will not vouchsafe to pray? Or what hope of their salvation can there be? Therefore happy are those, who during their peregrination & exile here, are forced for the time to be in the world, yet are not of the world. But I will add to these former authorities this ensuing inference: if divers most learned physicians should with joint consent prescribe to their patients, that such & such meats they should forbear, as being main enemies, or poison to their Health; would not those Patients, who should contemn their prescriptions herein, and should most earnestly covet and seek after such prohibited meats, be thought to be insensible, stupid, and careless of the weal, and good state of their Body? How then chanceth it, that so many thousands of the world, hearing and reading the former sacred authorities, (in which our B. Saurour and his Apostles do even anathematise, and curse the world, protesting themselves to be enemies to it, and it to them) should nevertheless put all their confidence, love, 〈◊〉 comfort in the World, and in the pleasures and delights thereof? O madness!  Cosmophila. 
reverend Syr. you have (I grant) fully convinced me (and that from the holy Scriptures) in my overmuch prejudging and esteeming of the imaginary worth of the world. And indeed I do see such a main opposition between our saviour and the world, as that I much grieve, that my Father did (and I fear hitherto doth) so highly prize and estimate the same. And particularly touching myself, I do acknowledge no small misfortune, that at the time of my baptism, the name of Cosmophila (which I am told, signifieth a lover of the world) was given unto me. But that is past. Well Good Sir, seeing the world and the invitements thereof are most domagable to a spiritual and retired life, as evidently appeareth from the Scriptures above alleged: I would therefore in treat you to enlarge your discourse of this subject; seeing it is the chiefest snare, within which man's spiritual Enemy doth entangle so many thousands of poor souls. And that what you have, already proved from the written word of God, you would fortify with other most forcing proofs, either of Example (which is much prevailing) or el●● of Reason: Since not only to myself, but to any other, to whom these your speeches may hereafter come, this your whole discourse may be very beneficial, as begetting in them a hatred to that (I mean to the world) the which our saviour, and his Apostles did so much hate.  Confessarius. 
Cosmophila, I will satisfy your Request: and I am resolved to launch forth into an Ocean of deeper discourse, in regard of the importance of the subject here treated of, then in the beginning I did intend. Therefore to prove that all this world is Vanity, and consequently not of just force to with hold a Man, or Woman, from undergoing a more spiritual life; I will not insist (as I did before) only in speculation of this point; but I will rest in the confession of such an one, who enjoyed all the pleasures in the world in the highest degree; and yet in the end, was enforced to confess them all to be Vanities. This, whom I mean, is King 
c 1. P●ralyp. c. 7.  Solomon, whom the Scripture averreth, that he enjoyed all the pleasures of the world (either for riches, or for subjection of other Tributary Kings to him) for he had all the Kings from the river of the Philistians unto Egypt, as his servants, or for magnificence of his train and retinue; or for the wonderful daily expenses in his Court, Lastly for his sensual and corporal pleasure of the flesh, for he had seven hundred wives, as Queens, and three hundred others as Concubines: All which God's sacred Word relateth of the worldly wealth, wisdom, riches, and prosperity of King Solomon. But now after his fruition for a long time of all these 
d 3. Reg. 4. 3. Reg. 1●. Eccles. 1.  several temporal felicities, observe his judgement of them (as his Motte) in these few words: Vanitas vanitatum & omnia vanitas: Vanity of vanities, and all is vanity. Where more clearly to express his meaning of these few words, by Vanity of vanities, he understandeth (according to the judgement of S. 
e Jerom in cap. 1. Eccles.  Jerome) the greatness of this Vanity, above all other Vanities that may be imagined. And again the same Solomon, casting his eye backward upon all the temporal felicities afore enjoyed by him, thus closeth this point: I saw 
f Reg. vbi supra.  in them all, vanity, and afflict on of mind.  
Now, to fortify more strongly the iudgment of Solomon, calling the vanities of the world Affliction of the mind, let us call to mind the words of our Redeemer, bearing the same Sense with the former sentence of Solomon: For our 
g Mar. 13.  saviour calleth the pleasures and vanities of the world, thorns; insinuating thereby that they prick and wound the soul, as thorns do the Body. That this is true, is most evident. since we find by experience, that the Honours, pleasures, and commodities of the world do never afford any true repose, rest, or quietness to the soul. For we daily may observe, that the worldly thoughts of these transitory things never cease to prick and gall the minds of such, as prosecute and follow after them. They rush upon them in the morning as soon as they awake; they attend upon them all the day; they bring them to their bed, and hinder their sheep, and afflict them with imaginary dreams. O how many worldlings enthralled either to Riches, to Honours, or Pleasures of the flesh, find this to be true, which now I speak? and therefore these Vanities are called by the Prophet Jeremy. 
h Ierem. 16.  those Tyrants, which will not afford any rest, neither night, nor day.  
To what hath been above said, we may adjoin the several miscryes, which necessarily attend upon these worldly pleasures; I will insist only in one, or two. The first than may be, that admitting these pleasures were in themselves to be much prized and desired; yet observe how their sweetness is abated. First by the Instability, & uncertainty of enjoying them for any long time; and therefore how great a misery is it to a worldly man, whose felicity wholly resteth in the fruition of these Vanities, suddenly, and unexpectedly to be pulled from them? And how an inexplicable a grief was it to the Richman in the gospel to hear that discomfortable message: Stulte 
i Lue. 12.  hac nocte &c. Fool this very night thou shalt die, and the things which thou hast provided, whose shall they be?  
Another Attendant of the world is Discontentment, which sowers and makes bitter all the pleasures thereof. For cast your eye on every several temporal delight, and observe the sauce adjoined to it. For example; the pleasure of the flesh, even when it is lawful and honest, is (as S. Paul affirmeth) attended with tribulation 
k 1. Cor. 7.  of the flesh, (this is for you Cosmophila, if you intend hereafter to marry) but if it be enjoyed with sin, then infinitely more it is environed with several anxietye● of mind in like manner the advancement to Honours and Dignities stands subject to all vassalage and servitude that can be devised, a● also to the danger of being after cast down into Disgrace and Contumely. Briefly the possession of Riches lieth open to fear of losing them and upon the sudden to be pulled from them. And the Truth of all this is so clear and undeniable, as that I could exemplify it (not speaking of times past) in divers persons of these times, and some of them of my near and familiar acquaintance.  
Now all this being most true, I demand, Of what judgement or brains is that Man or woman, who for the enjoying of such worldly fooleries, will forbear the heauenly Course of a Religious life? And thus far of this subject, wherein I have spread myself more largely, by reason it seems by your own words (Cosmophila) that this motive of the World, & the pleasures thereof, is one main impediment, why your Father (though otherwise a virtuous good Catholic) doth not give that full approbation, and allowance to a votary life, as could be wished.  Cosmophila. 
Sir, you have spoken very fully and irrepliably, and indeed even till this present I did much prize the worldly allurements and felicities at a far higher rate, than now, after your discourse thereof is finished, I do. So much blinded (I grant) was my poor womanish judgement, in not truly balancing and weighing of these matters before this time. But yet (Good Sir) though you have partly touched upon that point above, (I mean) that the pleasures and delights of this world have their counterpoyze of Discontents adjoining to them; yet if it shall please you to treat more largely thereof, your pains therein (I hope) will be worthily bestowed; and the rather, seeing there are many persons persuaded, that the careless Christian enjoyeth his pleasures in all full manner, wholly exempt from all anxieties of the mind, and that the virtuous do live in a continual sadness and Melancholy, full of grief, and void of pleasure.  Confessarius. 
I am content so to do. And first than you are to know, that both the virtuous and Wicked have their continual Crosses, (as I may ●arme them) and Afflictions in this world & ●his through divine providence; yet these two different sorts of men have them after a most different manner, as hereafter I will show. First, that the virtuous have their desolations and Afflictions sometimes, is evident out of the words of our saviour himself, thus saying: 
l Luc. 14.  He that doth not bear his cross, and come ●fter me, cannot be my Disciple. To whom accords the Apostle in these words: 
m 2. Tim. 3.  All who will live goodly in Christ Jesus, shall suffer persecution. So ●rue is that saying, of S. Chrysostom: 
n In Homil. 67. ad pop. Antioch.  Tribulation is an and ●ssoluble and inseparable bon● of a Christian life. All which is from the immediate hand of God, for the good the soul of his servants.  
Now to descend to the Wicked, or loose Christian●●l say, that their men have also such discontents and 〈◊〉, as well may be termed their Crosses. For though the Wicked suffer no injuries from the virtuous, yet are they several ways afflicted. For first (besides what is above briefly said of this point) we find daily that one worldly, or sensual man receive the grief and vexation from another worldly, o● sensual man. Secondly, such men suffer Tribulation even from their own proper Vices; to the which they become worse than gallyslaves, as wholly enchained, and enthralled to perform whatsoever along continued habit of these Vices shall command, and exact from them; they not being able to make any resistance, or repugnancy thereto. Thirdly, the wicked suffer tribulation even from their own bad Consciences; So truly doth S. Austin say, speaking of the Worms of Conscience (as the Scripture 
o Mar. ●.  calleth it.) No tribulation 
p August. in Psalm. 45.  is greater, than the Conscience of one's sins.  
But now let us balance a little the adversities or desolations of pious and Religious persons, with the Afflictions of the Wicked; & so observe thereby whether of these sorts of affliction were rather to be undergone, and suffered. And first, the Afflictions of the just are but short, and momentary, during only the time of their banishment in this world: And therefore the Scripture saith of just and pious men, dying: 
q Apoc. 14.  Blessed are the dead, who shall die in our Lord; even so saith the spirit, that they shall rest from their labours. And again; that God 
r Apoc. 21.  shall then wipe from their eyes all tears. But to proceed further to other privileges accompanying the Tribulations of Religious and virtuous persons: First, Christ himself averreth, that ineffable Comfort and joy doth ever attend the Tribulations of the just; saying to his Disciples, and in them to all other virtuous souls: 
s Ioan. 16.  You shall weep and lament but the world shall rejoice, And you shall be made sorrowful but your sorrow ●halbe turned into joy; The truth of which words the Apostle S. Paul tried in himself, thus saying in the throng of all his adversities: 
t 2. Cor. 7.  I am replenished with Consolation, I do exceedingly abound in all Tribulation.  
The third privilege of the Crosses of the ●ust, is that they are most fruitful and profitable to the souls of the pious; since Tribulation is a means appointed by God, for the obtaining of the kingdom of heaven; For thus we ●ead our saviour to say: 
u Math. 25.  Blessed are they, who suffer persecution for justice sake, for theirs is the kingdom of heaven. And the Apostle much celebrateth the benefit of the Anxietyes and Crosses of the virtuous in these words: The 
x Rom. 8.  Passions of this time are not worthy of the glory, which ●halbe revealed in us. But now to turn the leaf over, and to contemplate a little of the misc●ies of the wicked, even in the midst of their ●nioying temporal felicities, and to observe, how their Tribulations are wholly, destitute of those privileges, granted to the troubles o● the Iust. First, we find, that the afflictions of the wicked are perpetual and interminable: for of them it is said: 
y Esay●●.  The worm of the wicke● (meaning in hell) shall not die, and their fi●● shall not be extinguished; And therefore the loss● and detriment (Instead of all gain) which cometh from the Crosses and Tribulation of the Wicked, is related by our saviour in those words, which shall be spoken at the da● of the last judgement: 
z Math. 25.  go into eternal fire which is prepared for the devil and his angels: O most miserable Relegation!  
Thus far (Cosmophila) I have waded in thi● subject for your pleasure and (if it may be) fo● the greater satisfaction of the worthy knight your Father, who apprehendeth worldly pleasures and delights (as free from all grief● of mind) with so strong a bent both of understanding, and will. And now for the closure of all, I refer to his more retired and impartial● judgement; Whether the commodities & pleasures of the world being encompassed abou● on all sides with miseries and afflictions o● mind, aught to prevail so far with any man or woman (Careful of their eternal felicity as to withdraw and hold them from embracing a most virtuous, and retired Course o● life; granting that the said Religious life is no for the time altogether deprived of desolations, deiections, and other languishments commonly incident to the said virtuous life.  Cosmophyla. 
I cannot deny (Sir) but that you have declared all these reasons urged by my Father, not to be of that solidity and weight, as I did at the first take them to be (I would to God, that my father's judgement could be as easily herein convinced;) which difficulties in a religious life, were the only (or at least principal) motives for his giving the less approbation to this severe and sequestered Course, here in this place practised. For you know (Good Sister Caelia) as I said above it was with much soliciting and entreating of him and my Mother, that they gave their consent for your departure out of England: But seeing my judgement is greatly altered (or rather much quieted) touching the force or weakness in the allowing of the said Reasons of my Father; I will proceed to another point; in which I am to entreat your furtherance of discourse, reverend good Syr.  Caelia. 
Stay a little your intended proceeding (dear Sister) to any other branch of speech; for I mean, with the allowance of our much reverend abbess, and Ghostly Father here present, to insist in one impediment touching a Votary life, of which I confess I had several times strong Temptations; (through the subtlety of the Enemy of man's soul, and weakness of my own flesh) for the relinquishing of my undertaken Course: But through his Grace, which is never wanting to those, who beg it with all humility and prayer, I most easily over came it at last. I am more willing to discover the same, thereby that others (when the like occasion may occur) be not wholly dismayed at such like Temptations. It was this: (which is in part before touched by my Sister Cosmophila, and in part answered by Father Confessarius, yet here I will repeat it having been for the time greatly afflicted therewith; and things of moment, may warrantably be iterated, or related oftener, than once.)  
Oftentimes I was assaulted by the Enemy, in my mind, that many things are so hard in Religion, that I much doubted, whether my body (through its former delicacy, and softness in education during my stay in England) could ever brook and endure all those corporal mortifications & austerities, which are found in a Religious Life; as rising in the night, fasting, and sparenes of diet, submission to be under another, silence at certain times, and the like. But in the end (during the small time I have yet continued in this Monastery) I overcame them all, and did find an extraordinary repose & quietness of my soul in the subduing of them; fully confessing in that behalf, those words of our saviour to be most true: In 
a Luc. 21.  your Patience you shall possess your souls. And indeed when I came seriously to weigh those suggested austerities in the balance of Reason; I did find most unanswerable Reasons, whereby our body might be most forcibly impelled to a voluntary, and willing bearing, and practising of them.  
And first, I was wont often to call to mind, what I had heard learned men to say; to wit, That though our flesh affecteth liberty, and much cherishing, yet the Body even as its first creation, was made to be subject to the soul, and not the soul to the Body; and therefore we are to chastise our body, and to curb all the inordinate motions thereof. And indeed seeing the soul is to have a true command & sovereignty over the body (and this by God's ordination,) the Mastering of the body in not yielding to the temptations thereof, is nothing so difficult a matter, as is commonly feared by most, that have a desire to enter into a religious life. And the reason hereof is, in regard of many forcible motives, which may much strengthen the soul, to curb the inbred desires of the flesh, and bring it into subjection. And those motives (among divers others here omitted) may be drawn; First from the love which we bear to God; which love of God doth naturally take comfort in suffering hardness, tribulation, or any adverse fortune, for God's sake. Again, the example of Christ himself ought to be a great Spur unto us, in this Conflict between the Spirit and the Body, who suffered so much for our Redemption: Why then is it not reasonable for us to follow his footsteps, in a far lower degree of suffering?  
Thirdly, as above is intimated, the divine comforts and heavenly Consolations (with which God usually visiteth that soul, which courageously wars with the body, for the souls own good) greatly animate the soul to this battle; since these spiritual comforts (as hidden Manna) much allay the asperities, undergone for the conquering of the flesh, and its pleasures. Again, the Expectation of an eternal Reward and crown, which is infallibly after this life to be given to all such, who bring the body into Obedience for the better serving of God, makes all the voluntary labours of the body to seem nothing. Lastly, I may urge, that the Feareof eternal damnation both of soul and body (which is incurred through the unlawful pleasures, and cherishments of the body,) ought infinitely to encourage us, for not yielding ourselves, as thrall to all the pleasures of the body. O how terrible a saying will it be to a soul in Hell, to hear those words, spoken by Abraham to the rich Glutton, then lying in Hell: Thou 
b Luc. 16.  didst receive good things in thy life time, but now thou art tormented? Now than if one be of such nycenes and delicacy, as not to endure any corporal affliction or mortification, how then shall he endure the eternity of torments and pains, which are prepared for all loose, delicate, and sensual Christians? Let that soul then which wholly giveth way to all corporal pleasures, solaces, & Indulgency of the body, remember those most dreadful words in the gospel: 
c Math. 22.  bind him hands and feet, and cast him into utter darkness, where there shall be weeping and gnashing of teeth.  
Therefore to conclude this point, every one, who hath holy Inspirations from God, for the embracing of a Votary and religious life, aught to cast their Eyes upon all those, who are gone afore us, and have in far greater measure of mortification traced that course of life, of which we here speak; I mean, they are to call to mind the religious lives of S. Hilarion, S. Jerome, S. Benedict, S. Bernard, S. Francis, and many hundred more; all whose bodies were made of the same flesh and blood, of which our bodies are made; and yet most valiantly they subdued their bodies to the spirit. They in so doing did expect the same reward, which other religious persons at this day do expect: They now enjoy heaven, and so may we hereafter by following (though in a far lower proportion) their austerities of body arrive to the same heaven. But to press this point more particularly, as concerning our own Sex, let us remember those blessed Women, Caecilia, Agnes, Agatha, Barbara, Dorothea, Catharina, and many more of former times, who not only resisted, through their intemerate and vowed virginity all the temptations and allurements of the flesh; but also with most wonderful constancy and fortitude, endured glorious martyrdoms for the love Christ, and saving of their own souls.  
Therefore briefly, let each of us in the midst of our Austerities take courage, and say with the Apostle: I 
d Philip. 4.  can do all things through Christ, who strengtheneth me.  Cosmophila. 
Good sister, this your spiritual Resolution in overcoming your mortifications, is far greater, than I ever expected to have found in you, at which I much joy. But to turn myself to you (good Father Confessarius) I cannot deny, but that you have greatly discovered the weakness and insufficiency of all my former objected reasons, against the embracing of a retired and religious life; Yet seeing it is the honour and privilege of Truth, not only to be able to with stand and break through the forces raised against it, but withal to fortify and strengthen itself with unanswerable Arguments and Reasons, for the patronising and warranting of itself: And further, seeing divers things there are, which as they cannot be greatly impugned by Arguments; so they have few, or no Arguments for their supporting (though I presume; the warrantableness of a Religious life is not of this Nature) therefore I am to make bold both with you, and with the reverend abbess here present (for I am persuaded, that her long government & experience in matters of this subject do much enable her) that both of you would insist in your future discourses, in laying open the Dignity, Antiquity, proofs, privileges, Benefits (and other such prevailing Circumstances) of a Votary life, which may most forcibly conduce to the securing of the Resolution of such, as may hereafter undergo that spiritual Course: The heart of every one is in the hands of God, and who knoweth how he will dispose of it?  Confessarius. 
Both I, and (no doubt) the Lady abbess, will condescend to this your pious request, since Charity bindeth as thereto: And for myself, I think it most expedient, somewhat to enlarge my speech upon those three main points, which are essential to a Religious life; I mean, Chastity, poverty, and Obedience; to the which all Religious persons are by solemn Vow obliged.  
Now the more fully to know the dignity of these three points, it will be fitting here to set down the admonition of the Apostle Saint John given to all Christians; and then after to show what particular reverence these several distinct vows do bear to his said Admonition: Thus than that Apostle counselleth: love 
e 1: Joan. 2.  not the world, neither the things that are in the world; if any love the world, the Charity of the Father is not in him; Because all that is in the world is Concupiscence of the flesh, and Concupiscence of the eyes, and pride of life. Thus is the kingdom of this world divided into these three parts, as it were into three distinct provinces.  
Now for the better vnfoulding and explaining the true meaning of this passage of Scripture, we are to understand that by the Concupiscence of the flesh, the Apostle comprehendeth all sensual pleasures of the body, and other delights used in cherishing and pampering the flesh, whereby the flesh may burst out into any unlawful and sinful Actions; By the Concupiscence of the Eyes, he meaneth all beauty, and bravery of Riches; By pride of life, he signifieth the Vanity of Ambition, consisting in worldly honour & Estimation. These three then are the most general Vanities of this life, I mean, carnal pleasures, covetousness, and Ambition; By which three, as by his strongest Nets, the devil doth daily ensnare man the poor Christians to his subjection, & to their souls eternal perdition.  
But now observe how the malice and venom of these three most pestilent diseases, are cured by the vows performed in a Religious life: First than the Vow of perpetual Chastity of body (with the performance of the prescriptions adjoined thereto) cureth the malady of the Concupiscence of the flesh: The Vow of poverty destroyeth the disease of Concupiscence of the Eyes, to wit, desire of enjoying riches, & the unquenchable thirst of avarice. Lastly the Vow of Obedience cutteth away from the soul, all pride of life; since he, or she, who willingly subject themselves in all lawful things to the direction of another, is fat from offending in vain Glory, which the Apostle above calleth, pride of life. By this than we may see, how a Votary and religious life (being truly performed and led) doth meet with all the main temptations of the devil; over coming them, and bearing them down through the assistance of God's Grace, which is never wanting to such, as by due appointed means, do implore it at his hands.  
And here it will be much conducing if (besides what is already touched thereof) we insist longer in the displaying the Worth & dignity of the objects of the three former vows: And to begin with Chastity. Chastity then teacheth 
Chastity.  us (as the Apostle affirmeth) how 
f Thess. 4.  to ●ossesse our vessel in sanctification, that is our body, which is a vessel, or Receptacle of our soul. Now, who doth violate this precept, shall not as S. Paul saith) possess 
g Galat. 5.  the kingdom of Hea●en. Here than we are to observe, that for the preservation of Chastity, many things do occur in a Religious life; As for example, the ●loystering, and secret retiring of the party, ta●eth away the sight and speech of such things, ●s are dangerous in this kind; as dangerous ●ompanye, and familiarity; and most of all, the occasion, and Commodity, or opportunity ●or the giving the reins to one's natural de●●re, for the enjoying of corporal, and unlawful pleasures.  
A second help to Chastity (besides the spa●enes of diet) is the daily practice of all kind of ●ertue, which is continually used in a Religious life; and this is Prayer, Meditation, and over virtues, which increase the devotion of the spirit, even by their own Nature; And his must necessarily be the effect of Prayer, & ●editation; seeing by how much our soul and ●ind is more strengthened, by so much the body is more weakened. And to conclude this ●int of Chastity with the praises thereof ascribed thereto, in God's holy word: First, the ●●ngkome of heaven is compared to 
h Math. 25.  Virgins. Again, that a Virgin is called, Filia 
i E. say. 37.  Zion; in which place by the word Virgo is understood the Church of God. moreover, we read that. The 
k 1. Cor. 7.  woman unmarried and the Virgin do think 〈◊〉 the things that pertain to God. And yet more w● find it commanded 
l 2. Cor. ●●.  Virginem castam exhibe● Christo; to present ourself a christ Virgin to Christ▪ Finally it is said, as a special privilege allotted to Virgins, 
m Apo. al. 14.  That they shall follow the Lambe● wheresoever be shall go: They are the first fruits t● God, and to the lamb.  
I will finally close this point with this on● observation; to wit, that Christ himself was Virgin; Our Blessed Lady (Christ's Mother) was Virgin; Christ's Precursour (I mean S. John Baptist) was a Virgin; and Christ's best beloved evangelist S. John, was a Virgin. Is not then that Stat● most Blessed glorious, and most to be desired the which both the Redeemer of the world and those, who were most near to him i● love and affection, did wholly and inviolable profess? And thus far of Chastity, and the vo● thereof, whereby all unlawful and fiery Concupiscence of the flesh is wholly quenched.  
Next I will descend to the Concupiscence the Eyes, (by which is understood the vani● of Riches, and wealth of the world) which i● like sort is extinguished by voluntary poverty. Now to conceive in part the worthiness Voluntary poverty, it will be much conducing 
poverty.  to observe the danger of Riches, and the perilous state of the soul, wherein a rich ma● standeth, and all this proved even out of the sacred Scriptures: Of this point then, we the●● thus read: 
n proverb. 11.  Riches shall not profit a man in the ●ay of revenge; and hereupon it is said in God's ●oly word in the person of Rich men lying tormented in Hell: 
o Sapient. 5.  What hath the vaunting of ●ur riches profitted us? But to descend to the New Testament. Do we not find our Lord in S. Luke●o be wail the state of rich men in these words? Woe 
p Luc. 6.  be to you rich men, for that you have receahed your Consolation in this life. And the reason hereof is delivered by S. Paul, thus saying: They, 
q 1. Timoth. 6.  which will be rich do fall into temptations, and into the snares of Satan; and into many improfitable and hurtful desires, which do drown them in everlasting destruction and perdition. So just reason therefore had our saviour thus to conclude generally against rich men: 
r Math. 19  Amen, I say unto you because a rich man shall hardly enter into the kingdom of heaven: O that rich men would ponder deeply these points. Here now we see the vanity and dangers of riches, which danger is wholly prevented by its contrary, that is, by voluntary poverty; through which a Religious person disclaimeth from having any wealth or substance in particular to himself.  
This then being so, is not that religious woman most happy, who by her profession of poverty, hath freed herself from all those spiritual dangers set down in the Scriptures, whereunto the rich worldlings do stand thrall, and subject? and in lieu thereof doth purchase to her divers privileges and spiritual benefits, which rise from her voluntary Pruerty, and a free relinquishing of all worldly wealth? Of which many privileges I will here recount some few: First then Religious poverty taketh away pride, and haughtiness of mind, which commonly accompanieth Riches, and withal it taketh from us the power of committing many liones, which are wrought by the occasion of wealth; so forcing a man by a kind of necessity to live well. Secondly Religious poverty not only preventeth in us the perpetrating of many sins; but withal it engendereth in the enjoyers thereof divers virtues, as Modesty, Temperance, and Humility; which last virtue hath a kind of affinity or near enter course with poverty.  
A third benefit of Religious poverty is, that it is of force to cancel & blot cut the sins of a man's whole former life, so satisfying for them. And according hereto we find the Prophet Esay thus to speak in the person of God: 
s Esay 48.  behold, I have boiled thee throughly, but not as silver; I have chosen thee in the furnace of poverty, meaning hereby, that he hath so refined and purged him through poverty, as that he deserveth to be chosen and loved. A fourth benefit of poverty (to pretermit all others) is, that it conformeth us to Our Blessed saviour, who so loved poverty, as that he was not only wholly deprived or all riches, but had not as much, as any place (as 
t Luc. 9  Luke recordeth) to repose his head. And accordingly hereto we find, that when Jesus gave authority to his Apostles to go abroad into several countries to preach the gospel, he commanded them (by reason of his love to spiritual poverty) 
u Luc. vbi supra.  that they should take nothing for their journey, nor scrip nor bread, nor money, neither have two coats, as we read in the same evangelist. Now what Christian of judgement, and careful of his soul, will not highly prize that state of life, in which Christ (both God & Man) did choose to himself to live, and which he most carefully recommended to his own beloved Apostles?  
To come to the third and last worldly Vanity set down, which is pride of life; where, by pride of life the evangelist 
x 1. Ioan. 1.  understandeth vain glory, and desire of worldly honour, and dignity. This vanity, being a spiritual and most dangerous impediment of serving God, is taken away by the vow of a Voluntary Obedience and subjection, practised in a religious 
Obedience.  life; For whosoever (Man or woman) doth most willingly vow to obey their superior in all lawful things; that person cannot (so long as he observeth his vow) fall into the danger of pride of life. This vanity of vain Glory, consisting in the words of other men's mouths passed upon one, is (as the other two former points set down by S. John) much disliked and reprehended in the Scriptures: for thus we read therein: 
y proverb. 27.  As silver is tried in the fire by blowing to it; so is a Man tried in the mouth of him that praiseth. For if the silver be good, it taketh no hurt by the ●yre, but if it be base and not pure, it resolveth all into sum; so fareth it with a vain-glorious man through praise and commendation. Just reason therefore had King David to avoid all vain glory resting in others speeches; thus crying out against it: Away 
z Psal. 140.  with this oil, and ointment of sinners: let is not come upon my head: And the like just reason had the Apostle to contemn the praises of other men passed upon him; thus saying: 
a 1. Cor. 4.  I esteem little to be judged of you, or of the day of man.  
Now the worth of this virtue of Obedience is much celebrated in God's sacred word: For we read it to be preferred before Sacrifice, the Prophet Samuel thus saying thereof: 
b 1. Reg. 15.  Obedience is better than Sacrifice (which passage you Cosmophila could allege above in a wrong sense.) And these words S. Gregory thus interpreteth: Obedience 
c S. Greg. Morah 35. c. 10.  is better than Sacrifice; because in Sacrifice the flesh of another thing; by Obedienceour own will is killed, or as it were sacrificed to God. Now the spiritual fruit springing from Obedience is great; for first (as S. Gregory saith) 
d Gregor. ibid. c. 19  Obedience is the only virtue which planteth all other virtues in the mind; and preserveth them after they are once planted. The truth of which assertion is proved several ways: First because the liberal offer of a man's self to God (which is made by the vow of Obedience) provoketh God to be bountiful and liberal towards that man again; For it is the peculiar goodness and disposition of God, never to suffer himself to be overcome in bounty and love; therefore it followeth, that whosoever giveth himself by Obedience unto God, (which is done, when a man resigneth his will by vow of Obedience to those, who are substituted in God's place) he doubtlessly in recompense thereof receaveth from God all spiritual Graces, and finally God himself. Secondly, Obedience is said to plant all other virtues in the mind, because in the practice of Obedience, it followeth, that we must practice them all.  
Another fruit of Obedience is, that it doth subject us, and all our actions to the will and pleasure of God, and this without any reluctation or resistance; but with such perfection, as that they are wholly dependent of him, and guided or directed by him, Since what action soever the Obedient religious person doth, the same he doth for God's sake: Therefore in further proof of the fruit and dignity of Obedience I will conclude this point with the testimony and words of the Blessed & learned Cardinal Bellarmine, he thus writing thereof: 
e D● Septem verb. Domin. l. 2. c. 26.  Quam ingens lucrum est &c. How great a gain is reaped by obedience, as to merit with God in every action? for that man who doth nothing of his own proper Will but by Obedience of his Prelate or superior, doth in every work Sacrifice unto God, a most grateful Sacrifice. And which is altogether most admirable, if the superior perhaps doth sin in Commanding. the subject obeying his commandment sinneth not but doth merit in obeying; so long as the thing Commanded is not evidently a sin. Thus the Cardinal.  
Now thus far (Good Cosmophila) I have spread myself in discourse of the three essential vows of a votary life (to wit, of Chastity, poverty, and Obedience.) And here now you see upon what principal grounds a Religious life is seated, these three virtues being (as it were) the three main pillars, which support the Edifice of a monastical and votary state: and withal you may see, what strong Reasons your sister Caelia hath for her continuance in her retired course; and how little Reason you have for seeking to divert and change her judgement and will from the same.  Cosmophila. 
Good Sir I yield. And here I pronounce openly that never (Never more) shall my tongue utter any word of derogation, touching the worth and dignity of a Religious life. But Sir I would entreat you to proceed to other Heads, from whence this heavenly life may be warranted with more store of Reasons, in the judgement of us who be of the Laity.  Confessarius. 
I am most ready thereto; so willing I am to alter your judgement herein, being erroneous; and to fortify and strengthen it, being once rightly established and confirmed. The next point then, which I will take into my consideration, is to show the Antiquity of a Religious state, seeing men much prize Antiquity of 
Antiquity of a Religious Course.  things; as we find they do in the beginning of kingdoms, private Families, in points of faith &c. Now referring you to what is above said, touching the Essenes, being religious men among the Jews; I here further say, that our saviour himself, did first institute a religious life, since he first instituted the foresaid three essential points of that life, I mean Chastity, poverty, and Obedience. For besides what is delivered above by the Apostles in commendation and warrant of these three virtues, we find our saviour thus to speak of Chastity: There be 
a Math. 19  eunuchs, who have gelded themselves for the kingdom of God; which words are spoken only of those; who have cut off all power of marrying, by a perpetual and solemn vow, ●nd such as Religion obligeth us unto.  
In warrant of Voluntary poverty, Christ thus saith: unless 
b Luc. 11.  a man renounce all that he possesseth, he cannot be my Disciple. And hereupon as prescribing this Rule of poverty to his Disciples, he commanded them, that 
c Luc. 10.  they should not possess either gold or silver, and did bid them (as is above showed) that they should carry with them neither bug, nor scrip, nor meat, nor any thing else, when they went to preach to strange Nations: Lastly, Christ did institute Obedience in those words: He 
d Luc. 9  that will come after me; let him deny himself, which words all ancient and chief Fathers do generally interpret of the vow of Obedience. Now that the Apostles did follow Christ his Institution herein, and profeiled a Religious life, is proved from the words of S. Peter to Christ: 
e Math. 19  behold we have forsaken all things, and we have followed thee: which words do not declare only the poverty of the Apostles, but also their Chastity; seeing under the name of all things, the wives of the Apostles must necessarily be understood: Furthermore religious Obedience is gathered out of those last words of S. Peter above rehearsed, And we have followed thee; since to follow another, is nothing else, but to live according to that others direction,  Caelia. 
reverend Father, you have spoken fully of the Antiquity of a Religious life in general, as proving it from our saviour's time; but I would entreat you to descend more particularly to the Antiquity of Religious Virgins; seeing that point concerneth me more nearly, in regard of my already begun Course: And it also will give I think) better satisfaction to my sister Cosmophila. For what you have above said of the first Institution of a religious life, may perhaps by her not be extended to women, but to strained only to men.  Confessarius. 
I will condescend to your words: First than we find that S. Ignatius the martyr (who was the Apostles scholar) affirmeth colleges of Virgins, and saluteth them in his 
f Ignat. Ep. ad Philip.  Epistles. Yea some of our adversaries the Protestants, do thus confess of this point: In the flower of the Church (meaning in the beginning of the primitive Church) there were 
g Abraham Schultetus in medula Theologlcae,  Virgins, that professed perpetual Chastity. And which is more, our learned adversaries (the Century writers I mean, all being eminent Protestants) even out of the rack of Truth confess, that in Constantine's time being the first Christian Emperor, there were Monasteries 
h Centur. 4. col. 467. under the title: De Monasterijs Virginum.  of Virgins; That there 
i Cent. 4 col. 1●5.  then was a woman governess of professed Virgins. And furthermore the said Protestants make particular mention of the veil 
k Cent. 4. col. 468.  of the Virgins, Of their religious 
l Cent. 4. col. 874.  habit and particularly of their Consecration 
m Centur. 4. col. 865. & col. 869, ; and all this in the time of Constantine who lived three hundred years after Christ. To conclude this point, the Antiquity of Virgin nuns, is much celebrated by Joninian the third Emperor after Constantine; and he had them in such Honour, as that he published an Edict, That who 
n This is related by Zozomen, in hist. l. 6. cap. 3.  should seek not only to violate, but even to marry a professed nun, should lose his life. Thus much of this point.  Caelia. 
I thank you, Good Father, for thus your discoursing; For I take great pleasure to hear, that this Religious Course by me begun; is warranted with such great Antiquity, and particularly in us Women. And now Sister Cosmophila you may see, that this my Chosen Course of life, is no late innovation, or out an human invention, as some enemies thereto are not ashamed to affirm.  Cosmophila. 
I agree with you (Good sister) in judgement herein. But (reverend Good Sir) seeing this Religious Course of life, hath continued so many hundred years, as that no more touching this point can be expected; I would gladly know, what kind of men, and especially of women have embraced this course; whether they have been but of the meaner sort only; or of more noble and worthy Persons; since this later degree of persons (if so you can prove it) will give a great lustre and glory to a Religious life; For I observe that divers of high place & rank in these days do even contemn that Course; holding it as sorting only to the meanor condition and sor● of Men of Women.  Abbess. 
You shall give me leave (Good Cosmophila) to take this task touching this your lost question or demand, from Father Confessarius, with his good leave, and to impose it upon myself, & to relate what I have read, as concerning this point in spiritual books written of this subject in our own tongue. I am the more bold herein, because many great examples not only of Men out even of women, embracing this state of life, may be here alleged; And there Examples of women, do more nearly concern v● Women, and therefore may with good show of Reason be delivered by a woman. Therefore I will most briefly begin with men, but will chiefly rest in the precedents of Women.  
First than we find, (to insist somewhat in fortaine Princes) Lothaerius a Western Emperor, about the year 800. Anastasius a Grecian Emperor in the year 750. besides some other Emperors; Hugo King of Provence and Emperor in the year 920 Pipin king of Italy and eldest son to Charles the Great king of France, in the year 800. Bamba king of Spain, about the year 670. to have undergone a Religious and Monastical life. I will conclude, omitting many other foreign kings & Princes, with Charlemagne, who was king of Austrasia and Suevia, and who received the habit of a monk at Pope Zachary his hands. But to look a little into our own Country of England, we shall find it to have been most fertile herein, whiles the Land of England was divided into many kingdoms. According hereto we may reckon Sigebert king of the Northumbers, anno 640. Ethelred king of the Mercians, anno 704. Offa king of the East Saxons; Some small time after Kenred; Finally Inas, king of the same West Saxons, all which did forsake the world, and became Religious monks. Thus far of men; omitting to speak of many other Princes, Lords, and Noble men, embracing the same Religious Course.  
But now to come to women of worth and dignity, as being more peculiar to our drift & intention, I will restrain myself to Empresses and Queens; who have forsaken all regal dignity or sovereignty, and after the death of their Husbands entered into a monastical life, and became nuns, as we are at this pre●ent. First then, Theodora the Empress, about the year 880. embraced this course of life. ●ugusta, another Empress, anno 1190. Richar●is, wife to the Emperor Charles le Grosse, did build a Monastery, into the which she after entered, and therein died anno 890. Cunegundes, wife to Henry the Emperor. Agnes, wife to the Emperor Henry the third, governed some years the empire, after her husband's death, but in the end she surrendered up the empire, and chose to live in the humility of a monastical life, anno 1150. Elizabeth, wife to the Emperor Albertus the first, and Archduke of Austria, did build a Monastery in the year 1290. and in that Monastery taking the monastical habit of a nun most happily ended her days. This Elizabeth had two Daughters, who followed her Example; The one of them was married to the King of Hungary, the other to the Count of Ot●ighen, in like sort the said Elizabeth had two grand children, to wit, the Queen of Polonia, & her daughter, who both entered into a Religious life of nuns, although her said daughter was in some sort assured in marriage to the Duke of Vratistaw.  
To come to particular Queens. And first Tesia, wife to Rachisius' king of Italy with her Daughter Retruda, ended their days in a Monastery, spending their time in great Sanctity. In France Radegundis, who was married to king Clotaire, got his consent to depart from him, and entered into a Monastery at Poitiers, living and dying there with great show of piety and devotion, in anno 520. Within some few years after Adocra, wife to Chilperick king of France, together with her daughter Childerade, betook themselves to this heavenly profession. Balda about the year 650. wife to King Clovis, king of France, after the decease of her husband went to cells, where she enlarged a Monastery, afore built, and till death professed therein a nun's life. it we cast our eyes into Spain, we shall find the like Examples of devotion; For we read that Nunez, wife to Veremond king of some provinces of Spain, and Teresa, wife to Abdadas king of Toledo, became before their deaths two Religious and cloistered nuns.  
I will come to our own Country of England; where we find great store of such Examples. And first Eldrede, wife to the king of the Northumbers in the year 670. Ethelburg spouse to Inas king of the East Saxons, did both undertake a votary life. In like sort Etheldred who being wife to two English kings, kept her Virginity with them both, and obtained of the later husband (which was granted her) that she might enter into a Monastery of Virgins. O how highly (to the disgrace of many, who now live in the world) did this Queen conceive of a Religious and cloistered profession! But to proceed further. Sexburg (sister to Etheldred) being Queen of Kent, after the death of her husband, followed her sister in her religious Course. Finally alfred, Queen of the Mercians and Northumbers, did lead a most austere life in a Monastery which herself had built, upon her own charges, about the year 970. Here now I make an end in relating what worthy Emperors and Kings have left their diadems, to profess in Monasteries, Religion and devotion as also (as more fitting for me to allege, i● regard of their Sex) what truly Noble Empresses, and Queens, have shaken for ever hand with the world, to lead a Votary, monastical, and retired life.  
Most happy Emperors and Kings, and most happy Empresses and Queens you are who voluntarily relinquished your terrestria● crowns, for your gaining of a Celestial crown, which at this day all you do enjoy and shall enjoy without any change for al● eternity! And now here (Cosmophila) you may conjecture by that which is above delivered, that your Sister Caeliae by continuing in her much desired state of a Religious life, after her dissolution of body, shall have whole troops of most Blessed Empresses and Queens, for her Companions and fellows in heaven. For seeing both they, did, and she will, end their days in one and, the same Religious course of life; therefore all of them are to enjoy one and the same heavenly Reward, and Community of Saints.  Cosmophyla. 
Most Religious Lady, This your discourse hath given me great contentment: And indeed it is most sortable to your state, that you as being a woman, and governess of many Religious women, should be conversant in the lives of those women (whether Empresses, or Queens) who leaving all sovereignty and royal dignity, did make choice to live and die in your own Course, and order of life.  
But now, R. Father Confessarius, to turn my speech again to you: I would entreat you to enter into a further Ocean, or main Sea, in discovering the great Dignity and worth, ever attending upon a Religious Course.  Confessarius. 
I am as willing thereto, as you (Cosmophila) are; so fruitfully should I esteem my speeches to be bestowed, if so they could be of force to draw you to acknowledge all that Honour and worth, which is found to be in a Religious life. Therefore in this place, I will show that a Rellgious life is (as it were) a Compound made of the mixture of most other virtues. Now if this can be proved (as hereafter I will prove) how worthy, and how much is to be admired the state of Religion? For seeing virtue is the only true wealth (as I may term it) of a Christian; it must necessarily follow, that who hath more virtue, is more spiritually rich. Well then to pass over (as above is both proved & granted) that the three virtues of Chastity, poverty, and Obedience do essentially concur to the true Profession of Religion, I will descend to other virtues, ever accompanying that state.  
And to begin with the three theological virtues, as they are commonly called, I mean, faith, Hope, and Charity. And first touching 
faith.  faith, (the Basis, or foundation of all Christianity) most clear it is, that a Religious state cannot be without an assured and eminent faith. The reason whereof is this: That Man or Woman, who entereth into Religion, forsaketh all present and temporal benefits & pleasures: for benefits and pleasures which are unseen, and future, and so future as that they are not to come, but after a long distance of time; this man, or woman relieth herein only upon the sole promise and Word of God: but this no man would do, but he that is fully persuaded, that the future is much more certain and assured, then that which is present. And this is the greatest Act of faith, which a Christian can perform.  
What shall we say of Hope? Hope consisteth in two points; First and principally, in hoping 
Hope.  for the glory of heaven; which though it be to come, yet Religion giveth such full pledges thereof; as that it causeth a man to undergo all difficulties whatsoever in a religious life, for his infallible Hope of the said glory of heaven. The second point wherein Hope resteth, is to extend and stretch itself out to the necessary helps of this present life: but this kind of Hope is most fully and actually practised in Religion; since what man is there, who reposeth more confidence in the goodness and providence of God for his enjoying of sufficiency of necessaries in this life, than a Religious man, who voluntarily depriveth himself of all things, which afore he did enjoy, or might have need of; wholly casting himself (Through a most erected Hope) into the hands of God's goodness, care and benignity, for his provision or necessaries?  
To descend to Charity; Charity brancheth it 
Charity.  self into three Parts; One extendeth itself towards God; the second branch, to those persons who are of the same Institute; the last to all men whatsoever. Now touching that Charity which is borne to God, this most crearely shineth in a religious life; since it is the only Charity which a man beareth to God, which forceth him to abandon the world, for the more strict and severe serving of God; therefore the force of that Charity must be extraordinary great, which surpasseth all the love, which we bear to our Patents, Brethren, Kindred, Riches, and all worldly temporalities, and finally the love to ourselves; for how were it possible, that one should abandon and forsake all these things for God, if he loved not God more than all things?  
Touching the second branch of Charity we are to conceive, that the streams of Charity towards our Neighbours, are derived from the love of God, as from its source and fountain. And thus these streams run first towards them, whom God hath linked and tied together in one and the same Community, or Institute of life, who by reason of this proximity and nearness, have ever been accustomed to call one another, by the sweet and loving ●ome of Brethren. Now the ground, whereupon Religious people do agree and unite themselves together, is neither nearness in hloud, nor n●y civil Contract; but only supernatural love, which is Charity; which Charity did first breed this strict association, and after did maintain and continue it; For without Charity it would instantly decay and vanish away.  
The third Branch of Charity (as I said above) extendeth itself to all men; For excepting certain Institutes in a Religious life, which have reference wholly to Contemplation, all the rest are so wholly bent to the service of their Neighbours (especially by daily prayers, offered up for them) that all their Thoughts and endeavours seem to lean that way, and the Employment of every religious family giveth sufficient testimony hereof. Thus may a Religious person justly say, as S. Paul said of himself: 
o 1. Cor 9  We have made ourselves servants to all men. Hitherto of the three supreme and supernatural virtues of faith, Hope, and Charity. But to come to other inferior, and moral virtues.  
And to begin with Prudence, defined by S. 
Prudence.  Austin, to be the knowledge of what 
p Austin. l. 83 q 61.  we are to desire and what we are to fly. But in what state of life doth Prudence more manifest and discover itself, then in a Religious life? Now from the definition of Prudence given above by S. Austin, it inevitably followeth, that perfect Prudence cannot reside or dwell in a sinner's soul. The reason hereof is, in that perfect Prudence is a virtue, which considereth the true End of Man, and doth apply for the purchasing of that End, upright advise, upright judgement, & upright Command. Now heered demand where is the true End of man better considered of, and better weighed, then in Religion, where we direct and devote ourselves wholly to God, and put ourselves entirely under his Dominion, and power?  
To come to justice. Where doth this virtue 
justice.  more resplendently thine, then in a Religious life? since the Office of justice consisteth in giving every one his own, and chiefly to God that which belongeth to God. Now the state of a religious life barreth a man from all Occasion of fraud and de●cite, as with-houlding that from another, which belongeth to him; And certainly a true Religious soul would not for a thousand worlds do any injustice to another, but infinitely more willingly would rather brook to suffer wrong, then to do wrong.  
Temperance is also a moral virtue: whose 
Temperance.  office is to bridle and curb the pleasures of the Body, but especially those pleasures, which consist in the senses of touching, and tasting; The first belongs to generation, the desires whereof are in themselves most violent and intemperate; and yet they are all suppressed, or rather extinguished by the vow of perpetual Chastity, and with closing one's self within a Monastery. The pleasure of tasting appertains to the sustenance and maintenance of the body by eating and drinking: but all exorbitant and superfluous effects hereof, are taken away in religion; Since a religious life confineth itself within the limits of necessity, and poverty; contenting itself with such poor and necessary sustenance, meat, and drink, as is able to maintain the Body in good and perfect Health, for the better serving of God. Thus you see, how this virtue of Temperance is practised in a religious Life.  
To come to the last moral virtue, which is Fortitude. This Fortitude, of which we discourse 
Fortitude.  in this place, resteth not in fighting in the field with one; But (it being the strength of the just, is practised in subduing the flesh in contradicting a man's own will, in quenching the delights and pleasures of this life, in contemning all that, which this world so much admireth, for the Hope of an eternal kingdom; briefly in slighting temporall prosperity, and in patient bearing of adversity. Now what state of men in the world is there, who prosecute all these points of spiritual fortitude with greater sedulity, diligence and bent of Will, than a good Religious man, or woman in their private Monasteries?  
Thus far of these four prime and Cardinal virtues of Fortitude, Temperance, justice, and Prudence; where you may see Cosmophila, how they all are most fully and diligently professed in Religion. I could further instance, how the virtues of Patience, and Humility; how the gifts of the Holy Ghost, I mean, wisdom, understanding counsel, Piety, and the fear of God, are all found in a most high degree, in the state of Religion. And the reason in general hereof is, because some of these virtues receive their Operation from a Religious love towards God; & the rest are the gifts of God, through his love towards the Religious. But what is already said touching the former virtues both theological and moral, may serve at this present to prove, that a Religious life, is of that spiritual ampli●u●e and largeness, as that it doth incorporate and combine within itself the practice of all virtues.  Cosmophila. 
O how pleasing are these your speeches to my ears! I grant, I now much more honour 〈◊〉 Religious life, then before my entrance into this house I did. But Good Father since you have begun this your discourse most charitably in the behalf of my Sister and me (towards her, for her confirmation in judgement; towards me, for my alteration of judgement) continue, I beseech you in your assumed Scene with the like charity.  Confessarius. 
Well then, to proceed further, for charity's sake; since that the Apostle saith, 
q 1. Cor. 8.  Charity doth edify, Charity is 
r 1. Cor. 13.  benign and hopeth all things: I will in this next place, (for the greater honour of Religion) show, how a Religious life may well be termed (for its worth) a kind of martyrdom. This is proved in that it beareth a great resemblance with martyrdom. Furthermore, as martyrdom surpasseth a religious life in divers points; so in some points a Religious life exceedeth martyrdom. To express these things, here we are to know, that there are two kinds of martyrdom. The one of the Body; the other of the soul: That of the body is, when a Man or Woman lose their lives and blood in protestation and defence of the true faith. The martyrdom of the soul or mind is, to die to the world, and to all the pleasures thereof; and such a person may truly say with the Apostle: 
s Galat. 6.  The world is crucified to me, and I to the world. And what persons in the world do suffer a greater martyrdom of the mind, than such as are Religious; since they are dead even to the pleasures of the flesh (I mean to marriage) dead to Riches, dead to Dominion or rule; Finally dead to all the fading comforts & consolations, which the world promiseth?  
Now for the justifying of these two several martyrdoms, I will insist in the authorities of two or three ancient Fathers. Here than we find S Austin thus to admonish all good Christians: Let us 
t Austin. sermon. 150. de Temp.  strive against deadly allurements of sin, knowing, that Christians cannot want daily martyrdoms even in these things: For if Christ be Charity, Fruth, and justice, he that seeketh to overthrow in Man these virtues, is a persecutor, and he a Martyr that is resolved to maintain them in himself, and defend them in others. Thus S. Austin. S. Gregory is herein more clear, thus teaching: 
u Gregor. hom. 35. in Euang.  There be two kinds of martyrdom; the one in mind the other both in mind and outward work. We may add hereto what S. Jerome speaketh, to wit: 
x Jerom. Ep. ●7.  Not only the shedding of blood is to be accounted martyrdom but the unspotted behaviour of a devout mind, is a daily martyrdom. So far S. Jerome.  
Now to compare a Religious life, with martyrdom of the body. It is then to be observed, that as in many things martyrdom surmounteth a Religious life; so also a Religious life in some some things even excelleth martyrdom. To instance this martyrdom of the body surpasseth a Religious life, in that it undergoeth far greater pains and torments; yet the greater the torments are, they must therein be the shorter, and sooner bring the tormented party to heaven. But in Religion, though the pains be not so violent, yet they are of greater and longer endurance. Again, martyrdom is to be preferred, in that by means thereof a man layeth down his own life; which is the dearest pledge, that one can perform for another: Religion, though wanting this glory yet it hath the continuance of a most holy life, and store of merits, & this for many years, which doth advance a man very highly in the favour of the divine majesty, and reward him with many degrees of glory and eternal happiness in the heavenly Jerusalem; And according hereto, we may safely affirm, that many years spent in holy conversation and retiredness of life, will be attended with a greater increase of Reward, than the losing of one's life, by only one short Act of martyrdom, shall procure.  
Now this advantage Religion hath above martyrdom: To wit, that a Religious Course is a more safe way to gain heaven, than the expectation thereof by martyrdom. And the reason hereof is; in that many Christians at the time, when they should suffer martyrdom for the profession of their Religion, have shamefully fall'n from their faith for the avoiding of their torments. And this is evident out of the writings of S. Cyprian, 
y Cyprian, serm de Lapsis.  who relateth the miserable falls of several hundreds, who (as he saith) were overcome before the battle, and overthrown before the encounter. Now Religion lieth not open to this danger, since a Religious life more sorreth to a man's disposition, than martyrdom doth; and there be many things in it, which (as above is showed) assuage the hardness of that Course.  
Another privilege, which a true Religious life hath above martyrdom is, that where as Religion is ever at hand, and ready to be embraced at all times; martyrdom seldom happeneth: since martyrdom is not in our power; for neither aught we to kill ourselves, nor to provoke others to kill us; for either of these were an Act of great presumption, and most displeasing to God. Now I will conclude the resemblance between martyrdom and a Religious life, with this ensuing observation: That as without death there is no martyrdom of the body; so a Religious life may be said to suffer a certain kind of death: For seeing death depriveth us of our wealth of our friends and of all manner of things in this world; we in like manner find, that a Religious Cause doth deprive a man of all the same things; and this so wholly, that a Religious man can no more enjoy these things, then if he were truly & really dead. Yet here is a disparity, which maketh in behalf of Religion: which is, that when by martyrdom we die our bodily death, it is an easy matter to want all these worldly things; because we then going to a better life, shall have no need of them; whereas seeing in this life we have need of them, we forbear the fruition and enjoying of them, with greater difficulty and resistance of Nature. Therefore impasse no further in this subject, I conclude (in respect of all that above said) that by martyrdom a man diet to his Body; by Religion he dyeth to himself.  
Here now (Cosmophila) you may behold the splendour and worth of a Religious life, which, as it is surpassed in some respects by martyrdom, so in others it exceedeth it; I say, it exceeds martyrdom, the suffering whereof even our saviour himself so much celebrateth in these words: Greater 
z Ioan. 15.  love, than this no man hath, that a man yieldeth his life for his friends.  Caelia. 
O good Father. You much strengthen my resolution with the sweetness of these your discourses. But now it comes to my mind, that you, one day in discoursing to our Religious Sisters of the dignity of a Religious state, did call it a Sacrifice to God: your meaning therein I did not (I confess) nor yet do perfectly understand. I would desire your reverence to express yourself more plainly, that so my sister Cosmophila, and myself may be the better instructed therein.  Confessarius. 
Well then to come to that point. I did then say nothing, but what I will prove at this present. And first in warrant of that my Assertion that Religious persons are a continual Sacrifice to God, in respect of the oblation, which they make of themselves to God. I do produce S. Austin thus teaching: 
a Austin. l. 10. de Ciuit. Dei c. 6.  A man consecrated & vowed to the Honour of God, is a Sacrifice, in regard that he dyeth to the world, that he may live to God. When we chastise our body by temperance, if we do it for God (as we ought to do) to the end not to yield our members weapons of Iniquity, but weapons of justice to God it is a sacrifice. If therefore our body, which is but as it were) a servant and instrument of our soul, be a sacrifice; if the good and pious use thereof he directed to God; How much more than shall a soul be a Sacrifice, when it devoteth itself to God to the end that being inflamed with the fire of his love, it may destroy in itself the form and impression of all worldly Concupiscence, and be reformed according to his unchangeable likeness subject unto him; and this Sacrifice shall be so much the more grateful, by how much it partaketh of his beauty?  
Thus far doth S. Austin discourse of this point. With whom agreeth S. Gregory thus speaking: 
b Gregor. 9 Moral. 3.  We offer ourselves in Sacrifice to God when we dedicate our life to his divine service.  
Thus these Fathers; to whom I could allege the like authorities of many other of them. And now from hence I may infer. That if it be a Sacrifice for us to offer any thing up to God then doubtlessly to offer up ourselves to God, is truly a Sacrifice; the true Nature and essence whereof consisteth in the absolute oblation of ourselves (I mean of our bodies and souls, and of all the powers of our souls, and particularly in offering up the power of our will:) especially in such an oblation, as being once offered up, it is not in our power to recall. Now, how most acceptable the sacrificing of our soul & body is to God; is proved by this reason following: if the Sacrifices of the Old Testament, consisting in offering up to God a Heiffer of three year old, or a calf, or some other such beast, were so pleasing to God, and that God did receive those Sacrifices (as the Scripture saith) in 
* Exod. 29. Ecclesiast. 35.  an odour of sweetness: How ineffably pleasing then, is that spiritual sacrifice, (which is bought, and redeemed by the most precious blood of our Redeemer) to wit, the sacrificing of the soul and body to his divine majesty? And can we then doubt, but that he will receive such a Sacrifice, in an incomparably far greater Odour of sweetness, than he received those legal sacrifices in the Old Testament? with this I conclude this point, since little more needeth to be added hereto.  Cosmophila. 
Very reverend Sir, You have so fully manifested and said open the worth, dignity, and splendour of a Religious life, as that more in this kind cannot be expected. Nevertheless, seeing all persons are not of one and the same disposition of mind; some men (and these of more noble spirits) being affected to things in regard of the true estimation and honour, which is found in the same things; Others again being carried violently, and with an immoderate love to such things, or courses of li●e, which are ever attended on with hope of great benefit; and profit derived from thence; Therefore to encourage that soul, which beareth an eye chiefly to its own benefit & emolument, I should be desirous to know, what fruit may be reaped by professing a Votary and Religious life, which by other virtuous courses is not so easily obtained. We see how worldly men are carried with an impetuous stream of their Will, to such professions of life; wherein they hope to reap profit, thereby to quench their unquenchable thirst of gain. For example, to this end doth the countryman labour in rillage of his ground; to this end the merchant-venturer sends his ships with danger to most far and discoasted Nations: Briefly, to this end, our Lawyers in England take such indefatigable pains. Since then a Religious life infinitely transcendeth in worth these former, and all other temporal courses of life. I doubt not, but that it is furnished with many peculiar benefits and profits; and those of so much the more worth, by how much the profession of a Religious life is more honourable, than the profession of any kind of mercenary life. Therefore (Good Sir) insist, I beseech you, in this subject; so far forth as you shall think good. I do assure you, I do bring with me (now at this present) greedy and listening eats to your speeches; let them not therefore be defrauded of their expectation.  Confessarius. 
As above I said, so now again I will comply with, and satisfy your requests in what I can: and indeed there are so various and divers benefits flowing necessarily from a Religious and professed life, as that I may say with the Poet: Inopem me copia fecit, abundance of matter makes me uncertain where to begin. Therefore at this present I will rest in presenting to your judgement the chiefest fruits & benefits derived from a Religious life, pretermitting for brevity others of less moment.  
First than we hold, that a man, or woman by entering into Religion, hath even by the force and virtue of that Act (as men of ripe age have by their baptism) a full remission of all their sins committed till then, throughout 
Remission of sins.  their whole life. Now, how great, immense, and sovereign a benefit is this? The greatness whereof is best discerned by observing the effects wrought thereby; to wit, First, the avoiding of hell-fire for all Eternity, or the fire of Purgatory, which is more insufferable (as S. Austin affirmeth) than any torments in this world can be. Secondly, the obtaining of the kingdom of heaven, which is reserved and given only to those, whose sins are remitted and forgiven. I will add hereto this one consideration; That if we be to redeem but only one mortal sin, how great pains ought we to take, in procuring a true contrition thereof, in afflicting our bodies with fasting, disciplines, and other such austerities? how impreciable then, and most worthy to be esteemed, is that Course of life wherein a man or woman entering into doth by that one Act, deface and cancel out, not one only sin, but all sins and lesser imperfections, which a sinful or careless Christian hath committed afore all his life time?  
Now that the Profession of a Religious life, doth even by virtue of that Act, blot out all sins afore committed. Thomas Aquinas (that great doctor, and Saint) thus disputeth: If 
c S. Thom. 2. 2. q. vlt. art. 3. . almsdeeds do deliver sins (as we find in the Prophet Daniel how much more shall the entrance into Religion work the same effect? Which kind of voluntary Penance is not only of equal worth with almsdeeds, but doth greatly exceed it. And the reason hereof S. Thomas giveth in another place in these words: 
d S. Thom. 4. d. 4. q. 3. art. 3.  When we enter into Religion our sins are forgiven us; but yet so, as that we on our part lay down a real and very great satisfaction for t●em: For when we deliver up our will wholly to God, and bequeathe ourselves to his service, we give him that which is more dear unto us, than all thing else in the world; and consequently we do fully satisfy for all sins that are past. Thus S. Thomas. And upon this ground it is, that S. Jerome 
e Ierom. Ep. 25.  calleth entering into a religious life, a second baptism; and this with good Reason, since in religion we die to the World, in baptism we die to sin.  
Thus far (Gosmophila) of the first fruit, of a Religious life; the greatness whereof who can truly apprehend? O if a Man by some traitorous and disloyal Act to his Prince, were enchained, and were daily to suffer insupportable torments for such his crime: Or if one were infinitely indebted to his creditors, and fat more than all his temporal state were able to discharge, how happy would that first man, or this other think themselves to be, if so the one could be set at liberty from his daily punishment, and the other discharged of all his debts, by performing one only Act, which should be most grateful to the Prince of the one, and to the creditors of the other? The Case is here a like: We all by sin commit a spiritual treason towards God, and also by them, we daily increase the heap of our debts, that is, our Transgressions, for which we say in our Lord's Prayer, forgive us our trespasses. And yet all the punishments due to be inflicted upon us, and all the debts we owe to God, may be taken away and discharged by one only Act of entering into Religion. How sottish then, and stupid are most men, who cannot, or at least will not, apprehend the benefit thereof? And thus briefly to prove, that the Act of first entering into a Religious life (if other requisite circumstances be not wanting) doth obliterate and blot out all sins afore committed, and that, in that respect, it is justly called, A second baptism.  Cosmophila. 
Good Father, never can a subject of this Nature, thus learnedly discoursed of by you, breed any satiety to my ears, nor can they ever be cloyed there with: such inexplicable pleasure I take therein, & so strongly have your words, delivered of the state of a Religious life, invaded my judgement; making it most contrary (so far as concerns Religion) to that unworthy conceit I had thereof, at my first entrance into this virtuous Monastery: But presuming of your voluntary continuance in your former Charity, touching the more fully rectifying of my weak and feminine judgement herein; I would desire you to descend to the displaying of other fruits & benefits, springing from the root of a Religious life.  Confessarius. 
Most willingly. The next benefit then, wherein 
Remission of pains, in Purgatory.  I will insist is, to show that a Religious life through God's most merciful acceptance thereof, doth often expiate and make satisfaction for all sins, whose temporal punishments (after the guilt of eternal damnation is remitted) are to be suffered either in this world, or in the next, in the fire of Purgatory; That a Religious life is of this efficacy and virtue, is thus proved. If a Religious life can procure a full remission of all sins, in respect of eternal damnation due to our sins, as above I have showed, it doth; then much more a Religious life, is of force to procure the less; that is, to cancel and blot out all temporal punishment: Since the torments in Purgatory, are so much inferior to everlasting damnation, as time is inferior to all Eternity; and to endure torments for certain years only, is more sufferable, then to endure torments for ever and without End. And the less we are here to admire, that a Religious life can take away all the pains of Purgatory, if so we call to mind, that this life is a state or penance, and so commonly called, in regard that most of the time thereof is bestowed in bewailing and lamenting the sins of our life, and in repairing the faults and negligences of former years.  
Now the greatness of this benefit of a Religious life (if we apprehend two things touching Purgatory) will more easily appear. First, the greatness of those temporal torments in Purgatory: Secondly, if we conceive, that there are very few persons, (and those only of extraordinary sanctity) which do escape the fire of Purgatory. Now touching the first point, I will enlarge my discourse with the testimonies and judgement of S. Austin, delivered upon this point. Well then let us hear of what judgement S. Austin is herein, who thus writeth of the atrocity of the pains of Purgatory: 
f Austin. in Psalm. 37.  Because 
g 1. Cor. 3.  S. Paul affirmeth, that they (meaning those in Purgatory) do suffer detriment, but yet they shall be saved, as by fire: Therefore (saith S. Austin) this fire is contemned: but certainly, though they shall be saved by it; yet is this fire more grievous, than whatsoever a man can suffer in this life; albeit you know how great and intolerable things men have, and can suffer.  
Again S. 
h Austin. homil. 16. ex 50. homil.  Austin in another place thus: They, which have done things worthy of temporal punishment, (whom the Apostle saith, shall be saved by fire) must pass through a fiery r●uer, and most horrible shallows of buring 〈◊〉. Finally the same Father thus further discourseth hereof in these words: if 
i Austin. lib. de vera & falla poenitentia, c. ●●.  a sinner by repentance and conversion escape death, and obtaineth life, yet for all this I cannot promise him, that he shall escape all pain or punishment, which must be suffered in Purgatory fire; & this fire (I tell you) though it be not everlasting, yet it is passing grievous, for it doth exceed all pains, that man can suffer in this life.  
In this place now I will descend to show, that most holy servants of God have been greatly afraid of the pains of this purging fire; Now if such men of eminency for virtue and Piety, have stood in such fear and horror thereof, what then shall become almost of all Lay-people, who live in the world, and forbear to take the Course of Religious life, which is very available to prevent and free them from that raging fire? I will then first set down the words of S. Gregory touching the dread, that the Prophet David had of the temporal fire of Purgatory: Thus than he writeth, expounding those words of David: 
k In Psalm. 3. Poenit. Psalm. 17.  O Lord, rebuke me not in thy fury, nor correct me in thy wrath. This is (Saith S. Gregory) as if he had said, I know, that after this life some must be cleansed by purging fire, and others must receive Sentence of eternal damnation. But because I esteem that purging fire (though it be transitory) to be more intolerable, than all the tribulation, which in this life may be suffered; Therefore I only do not desire, not to be rebuked in the fury of eternal damnation, but also I greatly fear to be purged in the wrath of transitory Correction: Thus S. Gregory; From whose words we may conceive in what fear of Purgatory both David, as also S: Gregory himself (allowing the judgement of David) did stand.  
S. Ambrose (that Holy Father) feared no less, but that he might suffer the pains of Purgatory; who thus writeth of himself: 
l Ambros. praecat. praeparat. ad Missam.  O Lord, if thou reserve any thing in me to be revenged in the next life, yet I humbly beseech thee, that thou give me not up to the power of wicked spirits whiles thou wypest away my sins by the pains of Purgatory. I will conclude with S. Bernard, who in these passionate words following, discovereth his conceived dread and horror of suffering the temporal pains of fire in the next life: 
m Bernard. serm. de Sex tribul cap. 16. & 55. in Cant.  O would God, some man would now afore hand provide for my head abundance of Water, and to mine Eyes a fountain of tears; for so perhaps the burning fire should take no hold, where running tears had cleansed before.  
Thus far (Cosmophila) of this subject; And now from hence I present to your judgement the consideration of two points. First, the violent extremity of the pains of Purgatory; Secondly; that the most holy men who have lived, stood most fearful, that their lives and Actions should be tried, refined & purged in this fire. Now both these two passages being most evident, (and above by me so cleared) what dread then may Lay-people (such as yourself Cosmophila is) conceive of this fire? Wherein all the Idle words (to apply my speech particularly to your Sex) of young gentlewomen, all heir amorous conceits, and discourses with men, all multitude of lighter sins, all desire of superfluous bravery in apparel, and new fashions, all idle spending of several hours in the day for adorning and beautifying of their faces and bodies, to be gazed on by men, shall be purged? and for how many years God himself only knoweth. If a man should put his hand into the fire, but for the space of a quarter of an hour, what insupportable pains should he endure? Yet all this were but a fleabiting in regard of the torments of Purgatory, conunuing for many years. Now then to turn & apply my speech to the beginning of this main passage: if a Religious life be so worthy in itself, and of such efficacy, (as being a state of continual Penance) as that by it a Religious person may labour daily to cancel his sins, and to escape the pains both of Hell, & Purgatory; how weak then is the judgement of all those, who slight and prize little the privileges granted by God to such a life? And on the contrary side how happy (Cosmophila) is your Sister Caelia, in choosing this her retired and votary life, for her better avoiding of all the former threatened dangers?  Abbess. 
reverend Father Confessarius, and you Cosmophila, with both your good leaves, I will make bold to relate one fruit or benefit of a Religious life, and hereto I am the more willing, in that out of my own experience and government over others, I find the Fruit by me here understood, to be most exactly practised by 
lowliness of mind, or Humility.  all those religious sisters, who live under my charge. This benefit, whereof I here speak, is an Humble lowliness of mind, in the professors of a votary life. And the greatness of this virtue is of so large an extent, as that S. Bernard holds it to be a sign of predestination; who in one of his Sermons, turneth his speech to his own Brethren, and thus speaketh: dearly 
n Bernard. serm. 2. do Ascensione.  beloved, persever in the Course already undertaken; that by Humility, you may ascend to Sublimity. This is the way, and there is no other way, but it. He that goeth otherwise, doth rather fall: for Humility exalteth; Humility leads to life. Thus S. Bernard. The truth whereof from experience appeareth; seeing we may daily observe, that that Man, or Woman, who is most poor in spirit (that is most humble) is commonly most rich in the gifts of the spirit; and according hereto (if so I remember the words) the Prophet David thus speaketh: Our 
o Psal. 112.  Lord is high, and regardeth humble things.  
Now for the further displaying of the great fruit of Humility, we may call to mind, that it preventeth many dangers of the soul, unto which dangers high minded persons lie open. Humility also ministereth many helps to eternal salvation; for they, that are in honour & Elation of state, are ever in great danger of a headlong falling; whereas a good humble soul reposeth itself most willingly in the lowest place, and is thereby more remote from any spiritual slipping down. And by this we may gather how much we are obliged to Religion, whereby keeping us out of the traffic and commerce of the eyes of men, and from all worldly advancements, we rest in a holy and wholesome place of Refuge; we being by this means made mere strangers to the World, and the World to us.  
And touching the practice of this precious virtue of Humility, (if I may speak it in all sobriety of judgement,) it is most exactly and daily put in execution by the Sisters of this our poor Monastery. For (though I say it) there are divers Sisters here, worthily for their parentage descended; and yet they even strive & contend (through a pious and religious Emulation) which of them shall perform the most and lowest works of Humility. How often (to my own great edification) have I commanded such, or such a Sister of no mean Descent, to undergo this or that mean office in out house? Yea so willingly hath each of them with a ready & smiling consent performed what I appointed, as that, though I be their unworthy governess, yet I may boldly pronounce, that they are my instructors in the practice of this virtue. And for the more certainty hereof, I dare appeal to the judgement of you (Sister Caelia) whose eyes are able to depose the daily truth, of what I here say; but (though I be their superior) herein I will not glory in ourselves, but according to the Apostles words, I 
p 1. Cor. 1.  will glory in our Lord.  Caelia. 
I freely aver, that my own sight, since my first entrance in to this holy House, hath observed strange and unexpected Examples of this kind. And indeed to speak under both your licences, I do find not only Humility, but many other virtues to be daily exercised among our Sisters, to the great strengthening and encouraging of me, in this my selected life. So as I may justly term this Monastery (and no doubt, all other well governed Monasteries, either of Men, or Women) a very school of virtue. For besides the three theological virtues (to wit, faith Hope, and Charity) as also besides the three essential vows of a religious life, (I mean of Chastity poverty, and Obedience) finally besides Humility (Above spoken of) what other virtue, sorting to a Christian life, is there not practised by the blessed nuns of this Monastery, and this in a high degree? The due Consideration of which point, (I grant) hath increased my thirst in embracing this most happy life, and in loathing the world, and all the fruitless pleasures thereof. O dear Sister Cosmophila. I would to God, I were daily to endure no small pains of my body (and this for no thort time) that you had so fully seen in this place, the practice of virtue, as I have done; and that the sight thereof had made so deep an impression both in your understanding and Will, as to my infinite comfort (through the unspeakable goodness of his divine majesty) it hath done in mine: Then (Good sister) I should be assured that you would not so much depress and vnderu●lew the state of a Religious life, as in the beginning of this discourse you did. Yea I would not be altogether in despair, but that yourself, for the eternal good and welfare of your soul, (with a pious contempt of all those trifling allurements above mentioned by you, as marriage, splendour in apparel, attendance, and the like) might perhaps embrace the same religious Course of life with me.  
But reverend Father, (to turn my speech to you) your reverence may proceed further (if so you shall think good) in vnfoulding the fruits and benefits of Religion; My sister seems by her words to take no small delight therein; and as for myself (to the greater, nourishment of my spiritual life) I do even feed upon these your virtuous and religious discourses.  Confessarius. 
I will not be sparing of my labour herein. But because this Scene of mine; in setting down the benefits and commodities arising by a Religious life, hath been somewhat long; therefore I will pass over many fruits thereof, As that a man doth discharge his debt, in giving himself wholly to God, in Religious state. That God's peculiar care and protection is over those, who live in a Religious life. That the prayers of Religious persons are easily heard. That among religious people there is mutual communication of Good works. That in a Religious state, the commundements of God binding under the penalty of damnation, are far more easily kept, then in the state of the laity. That there is greater merit of one and the same good work, performed by a Religious person, than the same is being performed in a Lay person and this by virtue of a Religious state. That those who are truly Religious people, do ever the Will of God. That a Religious life (as above is partly showed) cutteth off and preventeth all occasion of sin. That by a Religious state we she the world, and all the dangers thereof. All these particular points 
Religion promiseth a safe and quiet death.  (I say) I will pretermit to enlarge myself upon, and I will close this long Passage, touching the Fruits and benefits of a Religious life, by here showing, That one main or chief fruit thereof is, that it promiseth a safe, quiet, and happy death. The greatness of which benefit what tongue can express, or understanding conceive, since God's sacred writ assureth us, 
q Apocal. 14.  Blessed are they, that die in our Lord?  
Now for the better & more full apprehension of this so inexplicable a benefit, we are to call to mind, that at the hour of our death three things are accustomed to afflict us. The 〈◊〉, Death itself; the remembrance where of (in regard, that thereby we are to leave the world, and all its temporal pleasures) begetteth even a horror in man's Nature; and therefore it is most truly said by the Wiseman, that the remembrance 
* Ecclefiast. 41.  of Death is bitter. The second reason making death so unpleasing is, that that is the time, when the devil is most accustomed to tempt a soul, with his wicked suggestions. The third (and most dreadful) is the astonishing fear of the last Sentence, o● doom of a soul, which instantly followeth after death. Now the discontents and terror of all these three things, are much more mitigated, sweetened, and lessened in Religion, than they are (or commonly can be) in the death of Lay persons.  
To begin with the first; This grief in the Laity, proceedeth; that by death, we are t● leave all worldly Riches, states, honours, ye● wife and children. Finally that the soul 〈◊〉 leave the body, they two having lived so lon● as most dear friends. Now most of this grief● is taken away in one, dying in the state of Religious life; And the reason hereof is, t● cause when a Religious man, or Woman by their professed state, have once forsaken the world they have given then aforehand; their last farewell to all Riches. Honours, neerene● of kindred and the like; and then seeing the● have parted with all these allurements afore, a● their first entering into Religion; it cannot 〈◊〉 any great grief the second time, to part with them to wit at the time of their death.  
Now touching the second point, which the Assaults and temptations, with which 〈◊〉 Enemy of man's soul is accustomed to trouble each one at his death, we dare say. That if there be any kind of men, that are not troubled at that time, or but very little with his wicked suggestions, the Religious Man is that man. And this is thus proved: First, in that the goodness of God, will not suffer himself to ●eaue and forsake that person, in that last point of a most dangerous state, upon which person God hath in his life time heaped so many spiritual graces and favours, as are necessarily concurring for one's entering into a Religious state. Secondly I maintain, that it is most sor●ing and agreeable even to the justice of God, to protect, and defend in that dangerous hour, that person, who with all sincerity and simplicity of heart hath vowed himself, (I mean both his Body, soul, and all the powers thereof) to a most strict, severe, and Religious Course of serving his divine majesty. Wherefore no good Religious person hath just Reason to fear, but that God at the hour of his death will cover him under the wings of his protection, and will strengthen his soul with internal comfort.  
To the lessening or breaking of the forces of the former temptations of the devil, at the time of a Religious man's death, we may add the comfort and consolation, which every Religious man at that hour receaveth of his Brethren, & every Religious Woman of her Sisters. This I mean, by the assistance of their Brethren, and Sisters; which assistance consisteth in their exhortations, counsel, and continual prayers; which always, but especially at the instant of death, are very powerful to animate us in hope, and to repel the fierce attempts of the Enemy.  
Concerning the third & last point, which maketh death most terrible; which is the lear● of the dreadful doom, which immediately followeth the separation of the body from the soul: The fear of which doom is much diminished by the hope of salvation, which i● Religious man may more securely promise to himself, than any Lay person for the mo●● part can. And this Hope is grounded principally upon two points. First, that it is presumed, that a Religious Man is not guilty to himself of any mortal and grievous sin. Secondly, his Hope is confirmed with the remembrance of the abundance of his good works, during his life time: neither of which can be wanting in a Religious Course. And hereupon we read S. Jerome, exhorting Iulia● to a Religious life, thus to write to him: 
r Jerome Epist. 34.  Happy is that man, and worthy of all blessedness, whom old age overtaketh serving Christ; whom the last day shall find fighting under our saviour, or to whom i● shall be said; Thou hast received ill things in thy life but now shalt rejoice.  
Hitherto (worthy Cosmophila) I have laboured both for your own, and your Sister Caelia her spiritual good, in discoursing of a Religious state. And briefly to recall to our memory what hath passed in our former words thereof, even from the beginning of our speech. First, you may remember, that I did discoue●● the weakness and insufficiency of all those Reasons and objections, insisted upon by ●ou, with which your Father so much labo●ed to impugn (at least to disesteem, and dis●alew) a Votary and monastical life. After that, showed the worth of that kind of life, by setting down the three essential vows (I mean, of Chastity, poverty, and Obedience) whereupon a Religious life is grounded or seated. That done, I did spend divers passages of ●each, in laying open the Excellency, Antiquity, ●onour, Splendour, and Dignity of the same kind ● life. And now in this last place, I have ran●ed together divers of the chiefest and most ●rincipall Fruits, and benefits, ever necessarily ●●tending upon a Religious state. So as now I how not, what more can needfully be said ●uching this subject.  
That your Sister Caelia hath by these my words, strengthened and fortified her pious resolution, for embracing this course of life, I ●●st fully assured: Now what operation my ●eaches have found in you (Cosmophila) will ●est appear by your own relation. Only I ●ould be glad, (as through some words by ●ou above uttered I partly hope) if so by force these my speeches, your judgement might fully induced, only to have a true and wor●●y conceit of a Religious life.  Cosmophila. 
Only to have a true and worthy conceit of a Religious life! O God (if so I may say without ●●●ence) I must think (dear Sir) you do partly wrong me, in restraining my judgement to such niggardly limits of affection towards Religion: therefore most reverend Sir, and you most virtuous Lady, as also you, my dearest Sister Caelia; I say unto you all three, that hither to I have in part concealed, what the forc● of this our discourse hath stealingly, and by degrees wrought in my soul. Now I will freely unbreast, and lay open my most in ward thoughts to you all. My judgement is wholly vanquished; I freely confesle, that I am persuaded, that no other course of life is more propitious and grateful in the sight of God, the● a Religious state. But (which is the chiefest poin●of this my acknowledgement, ever hid till thi● instant) My Will, (My Will I say) burneth with a fiery and unquenchable desire to implant myself with my Sister, in this so much celebrated state.  
I speak not this out of a womanish Passion; I speak it our of true judgement, for see no other more short Cut, for arriving t● heaven, then by a Religious life. Therefore (Most reverend Confessarius, and most worthy Lady abbess) here upon my knees I prostrat● my soul before God, my Body before you both, humbly (most humbly) beseeching you that I may be received as a Religious Woman, into this your Monastery. No dear sister you shall not need to take any daily corporapenance for any change of my former judgement (as most kindly you wished in your latwords) I am wholly yours without any sucforced necessity.  
O sweet Jesus, what a celestial life is this, described by you (Good Sir!) The Common sentence is, that there is but one heaven; but I say there be two heavens; The one, here upon Earth in a Religious Monastery, serving as a Type of the second; The other, that most happy & blessed kingdom above, wherein God with all his Saints doth reign for all Eternity; which supreme heaven is the reward of all such as here live virtuously to their last moment of breathing, in this terrene heaven. O how happy then is he, or she, who betramples under their feet all pleasures, benefits, and other glorious miseries of this life, and do willingly embrace a Religious course; making themselves by this means, with continuing a life sortable to their Course, undoubted heirs to the kingdom of God? Know you then any reason, reverend Lady, and you Father Confessarius, why I may not range myself, within the number of these Happy Ones? I know you do not. And I hope his divine majesty will be as ready both to inspire good resolutions in me, and to give me grace to assent to his inspirations, as he hath already done to my own Sister here, and to many thousands more. Therefore once more I say, take full notice (all you three,) That from this present hour, I am fully resolved to abandon the World, and all the transitory invitements thereof, and to become a Recluse, or Religious Woman (Under your licence and consent) in this your Monastery.  
Farewell therefore, thou deceitful World for ever after, withal thy flattering blandishments Farewell, Most dear Parents, more careful (Fear) of my body, then of my soul. Farewell all expectation of enjoying part of your state and Lands. I care not for inheriting of temporalities, Let me inherit Eternity, and heaven: Thither my thoughts shall hereafter b● bent: Thereupon the Eyes of my understanding, as the Eyes 
s Psal. 222.  of a handmaid upon the band of her Mistress, shall be fixed. And in place of all these dangerous illaqueations and Nets, serving only to entangle the soul, Come my Sweet Jesus, and knock at the door of my heart and I will be ready to open unto thee. Come all you blessed Saints in heaven (and especially thou Queen of heaven, Mother of my saviour) and defend, and guard me with your impetrations and prayers, in this my pious Resolution. To conclude, come into my Soul all those celestial consolations, not to b● communicated to flesh and blood; and fill up those rooms of my soul, which heretofore temporal delights were accustomed to possess. God hath at this time even arrested m● in this Monastery, with the hand of his holy providence, and Benignity; from hence it is his pleasure I shall never stir. Here I have found God, so as I may well say with holy writ: 
t Cant. 8.  I have found him, I have taken bold t● him, and I will not let him go.  
And to turn my words to you dear Sister Calia: Pardon my rough and harsh speeches given to you in the beginning; I was then over earnest (I confess) in my parent's behalf with you, and did not rightly balance together the duty we owe to God, and the duty we owe to our Parents. What I before spoke, spoke in ignorance; Let ignorance then ●xcuse me. And as hitherto we have been Si●●ers in Nature, so hereafter I hope we shall be ●isters in Religion, by embracing the same kind 〈◊〉 a Religious life in this your Monastery. No ●ore will I be your Sister Cosmophila, but ever 〈◊〉 the time hereafter (Upon my receiving of ●●e Sacrament of Confirmation, which as yet I ●aue not) your sister Christophila; Since all my ●●ue, my affection, my vassassage of soul and ●ody, I most humbly bestow upon my dear ●edeemer Jesus Christ.  Confessarius. 
Rise up, good Cosmophila (for as yet we will ●●ayne in you that Name.) I much joy at this ●appy change in you, and that my former ●ords have had such an Influence and power ●uer your judgement, as to beget in you such 〈◊〉 unexpected alteration.  Abbess. 
And I as fully congratulate this your determination; and shall be ready to further it to my ●ower, so far forth as true judgement shall lead 〈◊〉 to.  Caelia. 
And think you dear sister, that I do not a bound with an excess of joy, to see you become now what you are, and to be so muc● different from your former self? Alas my fear afore was, that you would bear an unalterable disaffection to my course of life. Must not then infinitely rejoice to see you thus altered in judgement? But let us both therefore give thanks to him, who at his pleasure is able to cause, that crooked 
u Lue. 3.  things shall become straight and rough ways plain.  Abbess. 
Though we all much rejoice at this you happy determination: yet what satisfaction can you give to your Father, who perhaps wi●thinke himself wronged by this our Monastery, in detaining two of his daughters, contrary to his mind and pleasure. Therefore to prevent all unjust and suspicious aspersions which otherwise may be laid upon ou● House, and particularly upon our Confessariu● and myself, I should hold it partly convenient; that you return into England for the time, to get your parents good consent here to. And if absolutely they refuse to give their consent, than nevertheless you may return back, continuing in this your pious resolution: For we read, 
* Act. ●.  God must be obeyed, rather than man.  Confessarius. 
I conspire wholly in judgement with the La. ●bbesse herein; So desirous I am, that our Monastery should avoid all obloquy, into which ●erhaps, by reason of others wrongfully mis●●er preting our sincere Intentions, it might ●unne. Therefore Cosmophila (though we abolutaly leave the business to yourself) I hold not amiss for you to return into England, ●o the end to get the allowance and approba●ion of your parents in this matter.  Cosmophila. 
Both of you (I see) speak this by way of persuasion, not by way of command; therefore you both must pard on me, if I proceed contrariwise herein. O, I fear, neither of you do ●ully know, the snares & temptations, which ●ong Gentlewomen (when they once intend to serve God truly, and sincerely, and especially, when they resolve absolutely to break with the world) do oftentimes to their spiritual damage find in England. I am guilty of my own weakness; and therefore loath I shall be (by my return into England) to expose my soul to all those assaults, which may be planted against it: As, the contrary command of parents, attended on with tears and sighs; the invitements rising from enjoying a very worthy temporal state, and the far greater in regard of my Sister Caelia her resolution, and thereby my parents whole state to be le● to me alone; marriage, and hope of Childre● thereby; Finally the undermining battery o● all other worldly delights and honours: know not, if I should return into England what strength, all, or any of these forcible motives might have over my soul. Therefore hold it most secure for me in this place t● stay, and to put in present execution the piou● motions, which his divine goodness hath vouchsafed to inspire into me.  
I will relate to you examples of two worth Catholic Gentlewomen, whose unexpected events or Fortunes beget a fear in me for putting of (though it be but for a short time) and delaying the practising of God's holy Will touching the spiritual courses of one's soul▪ And what is delivered of these two Gentlewomen, is truly delivered (I speak in all sincerity) without any fiction, or imagining that to happen to them, which really did not happen: for the relator hereof was well acquainted with them both.  
The first is, of a young Gentlewoman, to whom was left by her deceased Father (a man of a great estate, and of very good rank) two thousand and five hundred pounds for her portion: This Gentlewoman would oftentimes make great overtures, and shows of her desire to enter into a religious state; and many holy inspirations from God (no doubt) she had thereto. But she going up to London out of her own Country (whether to the end of taking that blessed course, or not, I certainly know not) did fall in acquaintance with a young Gentleman, far undeserving her, or her estate or portion: Him she married, and within the compass of a year had a Child by him, and both she and the Child died in childbed, and so he went freely away with her good portion.  
The other was a Gentlewoman, descended from a very honourable stem. This Gentlewoman being married, her first husband died, & did leave her a very fair jointure, Presently upon the death of her husband, nothing was with her so frequent in her speeches, as a Monastery, with an absolute Resolution to enter into Religion. This Gentlewoman also (as the former) making a journey to London (a fit place for Women to get bad Husbands) wrought means to a worthy Gentleman, (from whose mouth I heard it) that he would procure passage for her going over into the Low-countries. Well, it so unfortunately happened, that in the mean time she grew acquainted with a younger brother of good descent, but of most small means, or otherwise of desert. To conclude, to him she espoused herself, and now at this present day they five parted with great discontent; he having about the half of her yearly means allutted to him, and she the rest; she so living in no abundance, if not in want. O how happy those two Gentlewomen had been, if they had prosecuted their good desires proceeding from God, with all promptitude of putting them in ●●●cution, and had not deferred the time! They both than might have spent many years in a pious and Religious Course; furthering others in their Monastery (and therein their own souls) with what was more than needful to their own maintenance.  
Now, Good madam, and you reverend Father; who both persuade me to return into England, procuring my parent's consent to this my late Vocation; here I demand of you both: What greater security can I promise to myself, in persevering in this my intended course, than these two former Gentlewomen could? They had temptations of marriage, so I may have the same: They were subject to the amorous passion of love, I cannot say, I am naturally free from it. In the end, they gave the bridle to their affections, with less benefit in all likelihood to their own souls; O sweet Jesus give me grace, that their examples may be a fore warning and document to me, that I may 
(y) Apoc. 3.  open the door to thy first call, at what time thou mayst sup with my soul, and that I may put in practice without any delay, the good Motions & inspiratious, which thou hast poured into my soul! Therefore neither of you both, I humbly beseech you (as you prize the eternal welfare of my soul) seek to persuade me● to go back into England, though with expectation of a speedy return. I grant I am weak; suffer me then to overcome temptations rather by flying from them, then by a positive resistance of them.  Abbess. 
Well, good Cosmophila, seeing you are so much averted from your return into England, I (and I presume that our reverend Confessarius will be also yielding hereto) do give our full consents for your stay here, and that you shall not return back to your Parents. Nevertheless I hold it most sorting, even in respect of your duty towards them, as also in true judgement, that at least by letters, both your Sister Caelia and yourself, do labour to give them all satisfaction possible, to appease their otherwise afflicted minds.  Caelia. 
I do hold this your admonition (Good madam) of writing to our Parents, to be most necessary; for seeing they are our parents, we owe to them all true duty, and this without any offence to him, who is the Common Parent of us all; since certain it is, that, Grace doth not destroy Nature.  Cosmophyla. 
I do much approve both your judgements herein, and do desire that it may be performed: Yet one thing I could wish to be added hereto; That is, that reverend Father Confessarius here would be pleased to write also to my Father, a moving Letter from himself, that thereby my Father and Mother might the more easily and dispationatly apptehend the first report of both our settled Resolutions. He will be able (no doubt) by force both of divine and human Authorities, even to convince my Fathers & mother's judgement, touching the Election of this our Religious course, and consequently to ease and pacify their minds. And indeed, as concerning myself in particular, it seems to me that you (reverend Sir) do in some sort stand obliged to perform, what I here desire. For since it is the force of your pious and virtuous discourse which hath first wrought so much upon my soul, as to induce it (I hope irrevocably) to the undergoing of a Religious life; that therefore you are even in your own reputation, bound to give my Father by your letters full satisfaction, for the warranting of this my chosen State.  Confessarius 
Good Cosmophila, I will not be wanting in any thing to satisfy your desire, or to advance your spiritual good. Therefore I will not only write to your parents in both your behalfs, (Howsoever, I know not how they will respect the letters of a mere stranger) but I will withal send to them in writing the whole Discourse, which hath passed between you (Cosmophila) and myself to try thereby, if it may in any sort sway with them. All which shall be sent together with your own letters to them. But now you must give me leave to acquaint you, before you and I do write to your parents, with a custom, which we generally hold with every one, who desireth ●o enter as Religious, into this our Monastety; It is this. We do give to every such one certain Points of devotion to meditate upon; in which they usually spend some few days. By this, when this short spiritual Exercise (for so it is commonly called) is ended, both themselves and the governors of their ●oules, may be better assured of the certainty and firmness of their vocation; and whether their vocation proceed from God, or from the ●nemy (the Prince of darkness) who sometimes transforms himself in show, into an angel of light. That labour then being once happily finished, with a general Confession of your whole life to this very time, we will ●res●ntly send our letters with the former Dis●●unse to your Parents.  Cosmophila. 
O dear Father, this is more than ever I heard of, but I like it wonderfully well. This course ●ierceth even to the hart of the soul; and no ●oubt so good a ground work, cannot be at●●nded on with any evil event: Therefore ▪ Good Father) command me herein what you will, I am most ready to obey.  Confessarius. 
Well then seeing (Cosmophila) you are young and not experienced in this kind of Exercise Therefore that this work shall not become over fastidious and wearisome unto you, will content myself with appointing you to meditate on these four points following which are commonly called the Quatuor N●nissima. Of which the holy Scripture th●● saith: 
z Eccles. cap. 7.  In all thy works remember (Novissima life later End, and thou shalt not sin for ever. 

1. Death.  
2. judgement.  
3. Hell.  
4. heaven.    
The manner and form of meditating these points, which I would wish you to follow, and which is particularly observed b● the Religious of this our Monastery, is s● down by the late Holy Bishop of Geneva, i● his book entitled, An introduction to a deuou● life. These former points are so fully and m●●ingly disposed in that book, and for the better begetting in the Readers soul a Contr●tion and loathing of sin, as that I will ta● the pains, to write the said Meditations dow● for you (omitting divers others for your greater ease,) even in the same words without any alteration, as they are delivered by the for ●●id book. For to alter them in any sort (an that perhaps to the worse) were by depraving is book, even mightily to wrong the worthy and pious Author. Therefore you may ●editate on them, as they shall be in Order set ●owne; and you may bestow a whole day at several chosen hovers) to meditate only ●n one of them; so as within the compass of ●esse than one week, you may perform the Meditations of them all. The Lady abbess will ●llot to you a retired room, as more fitting ●or meditation, where you are to stay from the ●ompany of all others during the time of these your Meditations. And she will assign one to ●ttend upon you for all necessaries belonging ●o your body, and herself at least once a day will visit you, and further you with her directions in this your spiritual labour, & to see, and you proceed therein.  Cosmophila. 
I am most ready to follow your prescribed ●●me; and indeed I am most willing, that ●our reverence, and my good Lady abbess, hold even mould me a new, as both of you ●hall think best; presuming it will turn to ●e honour of God, and benefit of my own soul; Therefore I will now leave you for the ●yme (Good Father) and attend you madam, or your showing me the place of my retirement.  Abbess. 
Follow me then (hopeful Cosmophila) and will bring you to it. Come in; do this is you Chamber, where for some few days you a● to stay alone, during the performance of you Meditations. You shall have a sister to atten● you with all necessaries, & myself will moreover visit you every day at divers times to your greater encouragement in so pious and profitable spending of your hours. And with this for the present, I will leave you; and send you instantly the foresaid transcribed Meditations, which 〈◊〉 Confessarius hath wished you to pe●use, and seriously to ponder.  Cosmophila. 
Well, dear Lady, I commend myself first to Almighty God, and to all the Blessed Saints in heaven, and then to Your and Father Confessarius good prayers, that I may reap such spiritual benefit by the said ensuing Meditations, as may most comfort my soul, and strengthen it in prosecuring, with all ●eruour and true fortitude, my intended Course of life.  

The first Meditation, of Death.  

The Preparation.  
1. Place yourself revereutly, in the presence of God.  
2. Pray him to inspire you with his grace.  
3. Imagine yourself to be extremely sick lying upon your deathbed, without any hope of recovery.   

Considerations.  
1. Consider the uncertainty of the day of your Death. O my poor soul, thou must out of this body one day: but when shall that day be? Will it be in Winter, or in Summer? In city, or country? By day, or by night? Shall it be unawares, or with advertisement? By sickness, or by casuality? Shalt thou have leisure to confess thee or not? Shalt thou have the assistance of thy Ghostly Father, or not? Alas, O my soul, of all these things we know not one; only certain it is, that die we must, and always sooner, than we imagine.  
2. Consider, that at that time, the whole world shall have an end, so far forth as concerneth thyself, that is, there shall be no more worlds for thee; yea, it will turn upside down before thine Eyes: for then the pleasures, the vanities, the worldly joys, the fond affections of thy life will seem unto thee like flying shadows, and fading clouds. Ah! wreethed captive that I am; for what trifles and babbles have I offended almighty God? Thou shalt then evidently see, that thou hast offended him for just nothing. Contrariwise, at that hour, all devotion, piety, and other good-works, will seem unto thee, the greatest, and sweetest Treasures in the world. O wherefore did I not follow this fair and pleasant path, wilt thou then say? At that sorrowful time, thy sins, which before seemed unto thee but little Molehills, will appear bigger than huge mountains; and thy devotion so little, that thou wilt be scarce able to perceive it.  
3. Consider, the long and languishing Fare-wells, and adieus that thy distressed soul will then give to this world: how sorrowfully she will bid adieu to Riches, to Honours, to Vanities, to vain Company, to Pleasures, to Pastimes, to Friends, to Neighbours, to Parents, to Kinsfolks, to Husband, to wife, to Children, and in a word, to all creatures: And finally to her own body, which she must likewise leave all pale, wrinkled, hideous, loathsome, and most detestably smelling.  
4. Consider the impressions, that one shal● have, to lift up, or lay hand on this thy body▪ The great haste, that even thy best friends will make, to carry thy carcase out of doors, and to hide the same full deep under the ground far enough from their sight: and this done how seldom afterwards the world will think upon thee? Surely no more than thou thyself hast thought upon other men who have deceased before thee: God have mercy on his soul (will they say) and there is all. O death how art thou to be pondered? How art thou terrible, pitiless, and without compassion?  
5. That at this departure from the body the soul taketh his way on the right-hand, o● the left. Alas, alas, whither then shall thine go what way shall it take? Surely no other the● that, which it hath heretofore begun in this world.   

Affections, and Resolutions.  
1. Pray earnestly to God, and cast thyself with trembling love betwixt his arms, and say: Alas, O my Lord, receive me into thy protection at that dreadful day. Make that last hour happy and favourable unto me; and let rather all the rest of my life be nothing else, but days of sorrow, affliction, and calamity.  
2. Despise the world, thus saying: Seeing know not the hour, wherein I must leave thee, O wretched world. I will no more set my love upon thee. O my dear Friends, kinsfolks, and Allies, suffer me ● bear you only that affection, which is compatible ●ith an holy amity, and may therefore last eternally. For why should I unite myself to you, in such sort, as that afterwards we should be forced to break the knot ●f amity betwixt us?  
3. I will therefore from this very instant, prepare myself for that perilous hour, and take that care which is requisite to end this journey happily. I will se●ure the state of my conscience, to the uttermost of my ability and take present order for the reformation, and amendment of such, and such my defaults &c.   

Conclusion.  
Give thanks unto God, for these Resolutions, which he hath infused and given unto ●hee: and offer them again, thankfully, lo●ingly, and lowly unto his majesty. Entreat him a new, to give thee a Happy death, for the death of his dearly beloved sons sake, our Lord and saviour. Implore the assistance o● the Blessed Virgin Mary, thy angel guardian, and all the holy Saints in heaven.    

The second Meditation, of judgement▪  

The Preparation.  
1. Place thyself in the presence of God.  
2. Pray him to assist thee with his grace.   

Considerations.  
1. After the time, that God hath ordained for the continuance of the world; and after a number of dreadful signs, and bo●r, bl●presages; the terror thereof shall make a man wither, for fear and anguish. A consuming flood of fire shall burn, and reduce to ashes, every thing that is upon the face of the earth ● nothing (we see) excepted to be privileged from this fiery deluge.  
2. After this fearful flood of flames and lightnings, all men shall rise from their graves (excepting such as already be risen) and at the summoning of the Archangels voice, they shall appear before the judgement Throne, in the valley of Josaphat. But alas, with what difference? For the one sort, shall arise with glorified bodies, casting forth rays of exceeding light; and the other in bodies, or rather in carcases, most hideous and joathsome to behold.  
3. Consider the majesty, wherewith the sovereign judge will appear, environed with all the armies of his angels and Saints. Before him shall be borne triumphantly, his ●acred cross, shining much brighter than the ●unne: A standard of Grace to the Good, and of ●igour and terror to the Wicked.  
4. This sovereign judge, by his redoub●ed commandment; & which shall suddain●y, and in a moment be put in execution, shall separate the good from the bad: placing the one at his right hand, and the other at his left. O everlasting separation, after which these two bands, shall never more meet again together!  
5. This separation being made, and the books of Consciences being laid open, all men shall see clearly, the malice of the wicked & the contempt which they have borne to the majesty of God. And on the other side, the ●ennance of the good, and the effects of the grace of God, which they have received and nothing at all shall be hidden or kept secret ●n that great consistory. O good God What a shameful confusion will this be for the one, and what a glorious consolation for the other!  
6. Consider the last sentence pronounced against the wicked: go you 
* Math. 25.  cursed into everlasting fire prepared for the devil and his Angels. weigh well these words, which are so weighty. go saith he: a word of eternal rejection and abandoning of those unfortunate wretches, banishing them eternally from his glorious face. Next, he termeth them, accursed: O my soul, how dreadful a Curse? a Curse comprising in i● all manner of mischief and misery; An irreuocabl● curse, comprehending all times, and eternity. He addeth, into everlasting fire. Behold, O my heart, the grievous horror of this eternity: O eternal eternity, and boundless infinity of pains, how dreadful art thou!  
7. Consider the contrary Sentence, given and pronounced in favour of the good. Come, saith 
* Math. vbi suprà.  the judge; (O sweet word, & beginning of salvation, by which God draweth us up unto himself, and receaveth us into the bosom of the rest and glory) the Blessed of my Father, (O dear blessing, treasure of bliss) possess the kingdom, which is prepared for you, from the beginning of the world. O good God, what excess of favour! for this kingdom hath no end.   

Affections, and Resolutions.  
1. Tremble, O my soul at the remembrance hereof. O my God who can secure me, at that dismal day, in which the pillars of heaven shall tremble for fear?  
2. Detest and abhor thy sins; for only they can cast thee away, at that dreadful hour.  
3. Ah, wretched heart of mine, resolve to amend all. O Lord, I will judge myself now, with all care & strictness, lest I be then judged far more rigorously, I will examine and condemn myself, that the eternal judge condemn me not in the latter day. I will with all sorrow and humbleness, frequent the Sacrament of Confession, and will accept all necessary penance, and advises &c.   

Conclusion.  
1. Thank the goodness of God, that hath given the means, to provide for that day, and ●yme, and opportunity to do penance.  
2. Offer him thy heart to perform it.  
3. Pray him to give thee grace, well, and truly to accomplish it.    

The third Meditation, of Hell.  

The Preparation.  
1. Place thyself in the presence of God.  
2. Pray him to assist thee with his grace.  
3. Imagine to thyself a dark city, all on fire with pitch and brimstone, and thronged with miserable Citizens, which cannot get out.   

Considerations.  
1. Consider, that the damned are within this bottomless pit of Hell, as within this unfortunate city, where they suffer unspeakable torments in all their senses, & in all their members: Because, as they have employed all their senses and members to commit sin; so shall they suffer in all their senses and members, the pains and torments due unto sin. There the wanton eyes, and lascivious looks shall be afflicted with the horrible vision of devils, and hellish spactacles. The ears for delighting in vicious discourses, detractions, & slanders, shall hear nothing but lamentable out-cries, and desperate howlings; and so o● others.  
2. Consider, that over, and above all thes● bitter torments, there is yet another greater than they all; Which is, the loss and Priuatio● of the glory of God, from whose amiable face, & fruition, they are for ever irrevocably debarred. Now if Absolom found, that the privation of the face of his Father David, was more grievous unto him than his very exile; O merciful Lord what an infinite grief will it be, to be for ever deprived from beholding of thy most delightful and lovely face!  
3. Consider withal, the Eternity of these pains, which only thing, maketh Hell intolerable. Alas, if a flea in our ear, or if the heat of a little fever, make one short night so long and tedious; how tedious and terrible shall the night of Eternity be, accompanied with so many unspeakable torments! Of this Eternity groweth, in the damned, an eternal desperation, infinite rage, and most abominable blasphemies, &c.   

Affections, and Resolutions.  
1. Terrify thy soul, and stir thyself up to fear, with the words of holy Job: O my soul, art thou able to live for ever, with everlasting flames, and amidst this devouring fire? Wilt thou willingly forsake the sight of thy God for ever?  
2. Confess that thou hast deserved it. And wretch that I am, how often? O my dear Lord, from henceforth▪ I will take a new course, and tread contrary way; for why should I descend into this bottomless pit of Hell? I will therefore do this, or that ●ndeauour to avoid sin, which only can beget this ●nmortall death.    

The fourth Meditation, of heaven.  

The Preparation.  
1. Place thyself in the presence of God.  
2. Pray him, to assist thee with his grace.   

Considerations.  
1. Consider a fair and clear night, and think how pleasant a thing it is, to behold the sky, all spangled with an innumerable multitude, and variety of stars. Then again, in thine imagination, join all this nights goodly beauty, with the beauty of a fair sunshine day; such a one, that the brightness of the sun beams, should not hinder the sight of the golden stars, nor the silver ●ayes of the moon: and after all this, say ●ouldly, that all this is nothing, in regard of the excellent beauty of that great Paradise. O ●ow this place is to be desired, and to beloved! O how ●●elious is this noble city!  
2. Consider the Nobility, Beauty, and 〈◊〉 of the Inabitants; and Citizens of this Blessed country; those millions of millions of angels, and archangels, of Cherubins and ●●●phins; those troops of Apostles, Prophets, Martyrs, confessors, Virgins, and holy Matrons. O how blessed is this blessed Company? The low and meanest whereof, is more beautiful t● behold, than all this visible world: what sight will it then be, to see them altogether But O my God, how happy are they? They sing cont●nually, melodious songs of eternal love; they always enjoy a constant and steadfast estate of gladness; the interchange one to another unspeakable contentment and live in the comfort of endless, and indissoluble a●mity.  
3. In a word, consider what good the all have to enjoy God, who gratifyeth they for ever, with his amiable countenance; and b● the same, poureth into their hearts, an abyss o● delights. What a good is it, to be united everlastingly to their beginning? They are there like happy birds, which fly chir●ing, & singing perpetually in the heaven of thy divinity; which compasseth them on all sides, with unspeakable pleasures. There every one striveth with an holy emulation, who may do best; an● without any envy, sing the praises of their creator. Blessed he thou, O sweet Lord, and sovereign maker, who are so bountiful unto us, and doe● communicate unto us so liberally, the everlasting treasures of thy glory! And on the other-side, Go● blesseth them all, with an eternal benediction. Blessed be you for ever (Saith he) my beloved creatures, who have so faithfully served me, and who shall praise me everlastingly, with so great love courage, and contentment.   

Affections, and Resolutions.  
1. Admire, and ever praise this heavenly country. O how beautiful art thou, my dear Jerusalem?  
2. Reproach unto thy heart, the little courage, which it hath had unto this present, for having gone so much awry, from the way of this glorious habitation. O wherefore have I so much estranged myself from my sovereign Good! Ah! wretch that I am, for these pleasures, so displeasant and light, have I a thousand, and a thousand times, left the eternal and infinite delights. Where was my wit and understanding, to despise such goods so desirable, for desires so vain and contemptible?  
3. Aspire notwithstanding, with vehement resolution, to this delicious and desired abode. O my gracious God since it hath pleased you, at the length to recall my wandering steps, and to direct them into the right way, never hereafter will I turn back to those byways; never hereafter will I stray from the true path. Let us go with courage, my dear soul, Let us run towards this blessed Country, which is promised us, in the kingdom of heaven: What make we so long in this beggarly country of Egypt? I will therefore dispatch myself from all such things, as may put me out of the way, or hinder me in so happy a journey. I will perform such, and such things, as may bring me safely, and speedily to my journey's end.    Abbess. 
Reverend Father Confessarius. The time is now ended of Cosmophila her recollection, and all her Meditations are now finished. Therefore I hold it convenient for her, to leave her solitary Chamber; and so we both may see, what fruit the hath reaped of this her allotted time. Indeed I am in great hope, that her Meditations have wrought very forcibly upon her judgement. I myself will go, and bring her forth.  
Lo Good Father, I have freed Cosmophila of her voluntary imprisonment, and have brought her forth again to your reverence. Now Cosmophila, you may freely here unfold to Father Confessarius, whether you have reaped any spiritual profit by this your willing restraint, and by meditating of the points, which were appointed you.  Cosmophila. 
O Good madam, and you reverend Father: I should be most ungrateful, not only to yourselves, but chiefly to his divine goodness, if I should conceal the benefit, which (I trust) I have gotten in this spiritual Exercise: such internal consolation in hath pleased his divine majesty to power 〈◊〉 soul. And indeed I here confess with an inexplicable comforts that whereas before my retirement I was most willing to embrace a Religious life; my desire thereof is now so infinitely increased, as that my words are scarce able to express my thirsty greediness thereof. And to lay myself openly to you both, besides the prefixed order of meditating the foresaid points set down in writing; I after laboured to apply (according to my weakness of judgement) the use of every particular Meditation, to the seconding and furtherance of my intended course of a Religious life; I will exemplify this point in all the Meditations.  
1. In my meditation of Death, I thus discoursed with my own soul: if the rhyme of our ●eath be most uncertain unto us; if at that time there must be an end of all the world, so far forth as concerneth v●; if at that hour, all our time fruitlessly afore spent in the pleasures of the world, will seem most ●sple using to our Memory in regard what is to follow death; have not I then just reason, to spend my time ●reas●er is that most strict course of life, which will ●n●●melesse unwilling to entertain death, when soe●er it shall come and will afford me greater confidence and hope of my future salvation?  
2. The Meditation of judgement did most affraight my poor soul; considering the 〈◊〉 and terrible signs, which are to be the, forerunners of the day of judgement. But specially considering the last Sentence pro●●inced by the judge to the wit led, and to be Good or virtuous To the wicked in these words: go you cursed into everlasting fire. To be Good and virtuous: Come you blessed of my 〈◊〉 pos●esse the kingdom, which is prepared for you 〈◊〉 beginning of the world. I then concluded with myself, That no pains or labour in this world could be thought by any man enjoying but any spark of reason, to be overmuch for the avoiding of the everlasting fire, or for the gaining of that promise kingdom.  
3. In the meditation of Hell; I did consider two points with reference to my determined life. First, the insufferableness of the pains of Hell; Secondly, that they were t● continue for all Eternity. Alas, thought I, who is all the rigour and austerities in the most str●ct course of Religion that is in the world, in respect of the lea●● part of those dreadful torments? again, What is to lead a life somewhat painful to flesh and blood only for the space of some few years, in respect suffering insupportable torments for alleternity, and without end? Then did I conclude in the secr●● of my soul: Happy is that Man, or woman, wh● with a Christian Resolution and courage, is wholly be● to lead a most severe and austere life, for the preu●nce● the grievousness of the pains of Hell, which are to continue for ever. And then were presented unto my trembling heart those words of the Holy Scripture: Who 
a Esay. 33.  can dwell with devouring fire and with everlasting ardours?  
4. To end with the Meditation of heaven O now was my soul ravished with inexplicable comfort in pondering, that it is in on power and will, by suffering some laborio●● Acts in this world, and through the mercy God, to purchase those most happy joys heaven. Then I said to myself: Shall the observance of the three vows of a Religious life, sh● fasting, shall rising in the night to praise God, or sh● any other Mor●ifications whatsoever practised in Monasteries, be thought too great a price, for the buying of the most precious Margarite 
b M. tb. 13.  of the kingdom of heaven, where all the Saints do now reign with God, and shall reign for ever, and everlastingly? No: and hereupon came presently into my mind those words of the Apostle (Sometimes repeated by my own Father:) The sufferings 
c Rom. 8.  of this time are not worthy of the glory to come, that shall be showed unto us. In this sort were my thoughts busied, after I had performed the Method prescribed in every Meditation.  Confessarius. 
I much rejoice (Happy Cosmophila) at this your (more than expected) fortunate proceeding. Well then; Seeing things so prosperously go on, there remaineth nothing, but that the Lady abbess now at the feast of S. John Baptist (my Patron) which is within these few days, do admit you into the noviceship, with your sister Caelia. In the mean time both of you, may make your Letters ready, which you mean to send to your parents; & mine joined to them by that time shall not be wanting. Your Retinue, which you brought with you, may stay here until the time aforesaid, when you shall publicly receive the usual Habit, or clothing of the nuns of this Monastery; at the performance whereof your said-seruants may be present, that so they may with greater confidence assure your Parents of all things here falling out, either concerning you, or your Sister Caelia. And seeing Religious Women in most Monasteries, do change their Names, at their first entrance into Religion, therefore since your own desire (Upon your receiving of the Sacrament of Confirmation) above expressed is such hereafter in●teed of Cosmophila, signifying A lover of the world, you shall be called Sister Christophila as having devored yourself wholly to the love, and service of Christ, our Redeemer and saviour.  Abbess. 
I condescend (Cosmophila) most willingly to all that, which Rever Father Confessarius hath disposed, touching your admittance; And at the day above named, I will give you your Habit, and we will by God's Grace account you hereafter, as one of our own.  Caelia. 
No more than Cosmophila, but sister Christophila. O happy hours▪ We are now Sisters in a double manner; Before by Nature, now by Grace; before by Generation of P●rents, now by Regeneration of God himself; briefly, before by a certain constraint and Necessity, proceeding from Man; now by our voluntary 〈◊〉 of one and the same Religious form of li●e, rising from the blessed imp●●ations of his divine goodness. But (Good sister) seeing the time of your admittance will be within these so few days ●et us in the mean while have ready a joint letter, written from 〈◊〉; to our loving Parents, to acquaint them with all the passages concerning us both.  Cosmophila. 
I shall (loving Sister) be most willing to put my name and hand to all, what hath passed touching either of us, since my first arrival to this place: Therefore I could with you (as being the elder Sister) to indite and pen the letter. And Reu. Father Confessarius will (as he saith) send with ours, both his own letter to our Parents, and a copy of the discourse passed between him and me. Therefore let us both go presently about it; which being perfected, I will give the letters and the discourse (the day after my clothing) to one of my servants, that he may present them from us, to our most dear Parents.  
A Letter written by the two sisters Caelia, and Cosmophila, to Sir Orthodoxus Knight, and his Lady Gynoecia, their dear Parents.  
MOst dear and loving Parents; who under God, have been the ●●le means, that we have any being in this world, and that we breathe this common air: We your two most humble and Obedient Daughters, beseech you to read the Contents of this our mutual Letter, with all serenity of mind, and freedom from grief and passion, and that you would be pleased, that these f●owing tears equally shed by us both, at the writing hereof, may not become fruitless, and neglected in your Eyes. We then in all prostration of body and mind, hereby do make known to you, that your daughter Caelia cannot be induced upon any motive whatsoever to forsake her happy and blessed vocation; and (which perhaps will seem far more strange in your apprehension) that her Sister Cosmophila, in place of withdrawing her sister Caelia from her votary life, is fully determined to undergo with her the same Course, and here to remain without any thought of ever seeing her Country again: Yea indeed she hath already taken upon her the Habit of this our Monastery. The more certain particulars of both our Resolutions, the letters sent at this present from our most reverend Confessarius will fully lay open to you; since the unexpected change of Cosmophila, was wrought by the devout and learned Discourse, which he did use unto her.  
Now than Most dear Parents we know you love us sincerely; let your love descend chiefly to the love of our souls. True it is, you intend us great advancements; but what are our souls bettered thereby? You are willing to procure for us high marriages; But what more noble Spouse, than Christ? You covet, that we may live in all affluency and abundance of temporal commodities & pleasures: O how opposite and cross is this way, to that chosen way of life, which our saviour, the Apostles, & other most eminent Saints have before us trodden? Briefly, you even thirst to have by us (as being your next heirs, now after the death of our Brother Monadelphus) the descent of your house and family (which we know, for some hundred years hath already continued) to be produced, extended, and drawn out hereafter, from time to time. But is there any time so long, as Eternity, to the which we both being your Children, and the branches of your bodies, by embracing this our so much wished and desired life, do hope to aspire? Let not then, (O let not) temporal worldlings be preferred in your judgement, before our saviour; Let not the prosperous life of sensual men overballance with you the most austere & severe life of Christ himself, of his Apostles, and of all other most glorious Saints now reigning in heaven. Finally, let not the desire of the continuance of your descent and House only for certain years here upon the earth and that most uncertain) endanger to prevent the eternal continuance of your Children, and Issue in heaven.  
No, No. It is vanity, to set our love upon those things, which speedily pass away, and to neglect that, which (as the chief means) conduceth to our celestial joy, which is ever permanent. We know, you are Rich in the world; Our chiefest Ambition is, to be Rich in Christ, who was so poor, as that he had no place, in which to rest himself; for do we not ●ead: 
i Lue. 9  The foxes have holes, the birds of the air 〈◊〉 nests, but the son of man hath no whereto re●●se his head? give us both therefore your absolute and most voluntary consents (Even for his sake, who was so poor, and who suffered deat● for the saving of all men's souls) that we maimitate in part his poverty, and answer to hi● heavenly inspirations bestowed upon us, fo● the saving of our souls.  
And although we be not scholars, yet w● have read in devout spiritual books thu● much in our defence (this we speak not b● way of contestation with you, Noah, God forbid, but only by most hubly exhibiting what may be said in our behalf) that, what thing soever holds one from following the inspirations an● Motions of God must of necessary be a Temptations But every Temptation (you know) proceed from the Enemy of man. We might (as per●nent to us) here also allege the advice, which S. Jerome giveth to Furia, a noble matron (who 
(●) Jerom. Ep 10.  entered into Religion) in these words: (2) The Father willbe sorry (meaning for taking a Religious Course,) but Christ will be glad; Thy fami●● will lament, but the angels will give thee joy: L●● thy Father do what he will with his temporal stat● Thou art not so much his whose thou art by genertion, as his, whose thou art by regeneration; His mean, who redeemed thee at a dear price, with h● own blood. Thus this Blessed Father meditate● of this point. And may not (Under both you corrections) these words be in some sort applied to our Cause?  
What answer to this our Letter, you wi●● return, we know not: yet certainly no an● were but one (worthy yourselves, worth Christian Parents) you can return, which able to case our troubled minds. That is; I, a● your mother Gynoecia do with all joy entertain both ●ur happy Resolutions; Therefore we both give you ●r full and free consents, to proceed, as you have be●●n, Since your souls are your own, not ours; and ●u, not ●e, must answer for them. We both therefore 〈◊〉 withal cheerfulness of mind, Fiat voluntas ●ei; and most loath and unwilling shall either of us ●reafter be to resist God's blessed Ordination herein, how would this answer relieve and che●h us, dispelling from our afflicted hearts all ●auines of mind, no small hindrance to a ●ertuous Life.  
And thus in the good Hope of this our so ●uch desired answer, we even upon our ●ees do beg both your blessings, and will ever cease to power out our poor prayers to is divine majesty, to preserve you both in his watch and custody; that so after your peregriation in this world is once ended, we all may ●eet together in the heavenly Jerusalem, and ●ay mutually and daily enjoy that most bles●ed sight of him, who is our creator, our Fa●●er, and our redeems.  
Yours truly most dutiful, and Obedient Daughters, Caelia, Cosmophila.  
Another letter of the Confessarius, written to the worthy Knight Sir Orthodoxus, & to the Lady Gynoecia his wife, at their house in London.  
worthy Syr. Notwithstanding all want of knowing one another, much less of any former straight intercourse between your worship and myself: ye● I hold it expedient to salute you & the worthy Lady (your Bedfellow) with these my letters: With the subject whereof, upon your opening of them, you will be fully acquainted. They concern (as you may perceive) the present state of your two daughters Caelia, and Cosmophila, Gentlewomen of such desert, as that you have reason greatly to rejoice in a spiritual consolation, that you are become Parents to two such Children.  
The elder of them (to wit Caelia) came over the last year (as you know) to become Religious, & this with both your consents (though not at the first, yet at the last obtained.) Your second daughter (I mean Cosmophila) was lately sent by you, upon the death of Monadelphus your only son and heir, to persuad● her Sister (not being as yet professed) to leau● her vocation, and to return back with her in to England, for their mutually enjoying o● your fair & worthy Estate after your death▪ And hereby you may take notice, how Go● hath far, contrary to your expectation, disposed in these matters.  
Your daughter Caelia slands immoueabl● (indeed inexorable, to all the persuasion● which her Sister to the contrary, could mak● to her) in her resolution to proceed in her already begun state. And Cosmophila herself i● at the length determined (through my speeches, and reasons to her alleged, as a poor and subordinate Instrument under God here in) to embrace the same spiritual Course with her Sister, and rests firmly resolved (as you may further understand by their own letters) here to remain with us. For she already is entered into the Company of the Religious Sisters, and hath begun to make her noviceship. Who can deny but that in this business there is Digitus Dei, God's Good providence, & preordination?  
Now, Worthy Sir, whereas yourself and your virtuous Lady are Catholics, professing one and the same Religion with me, I hold it the rather my duty to give you both what satisfaction I am able, for the alleviating and lessining of both your griefs, which perhaps you may conceive by this strange alteration in your younger daughter, and perseverance in the Elder. And for the better facilitating of this point (with the consent of both your Daughters) I have sent with these letters, A Goppy of the whole discourse, which passed between Cosmophila, and myself. By perusing whereof, you may conceive; First, the weakness of those objections, made by you against Religious life, so much for the time insisted upon by your daughter Cosmophila. Secondly, you may here see the several arguments and unanswearable Reasons, fully warranting the Election and choice of that state of life, which both your daughters have made. And these said Reasons are taken from the Worth, Dignity, Honour, and benefits of a Religious and votary life.  
And notwithstanding my sending to you ●eformer whole discourse; yet considering how strongly and violently (and this perhaps with some offence to God.) You, and your Lady may entertain at the first these unexpected occurrences; therefore intending to transgress the bonds of a letter, I have thought it convenient, for both your spiritual good, a● also for the good of other parents, to whom this my discourse may perhaps hereafter be made known (if so themselves have any Children desirous to take a religion's Course) to enlarge myself in these leaves following, by discovering and expressing how dangerous a thing it is in Catholic parents, and how domageable both to their own souls, and to the souls of such their Children, (who would gladly embrace a Religious life) to hinder, resist, and withstand them in this their pious Resolution.  
Touching then this subject, I will divide my whole future discourse into three general branches, or Heads. First, I will show the grievousness of the sin, in Parents, dissuading their Children from the Election of so blessed a Course. Secondly, I will allege divers examples of God's just, and severe punishments inflicted upon parents, and other such persons, who have laboured to withdraw and alter the minds of those, who have made choice of this monastical and retired Course. In the third, and last place, I will prove by force of Reason, that parents ought to be content, quietly to resign their Wills, to God's Will herein; I mean in joyfully suffering their Children to be called by God, to this his so peculiar service.  
To begin with the first: And first, it is evident, that such Parents do fight & war even against God's own will and predetermination: a war most impious, and withal most exitious, and fatal to them that undertake it. For can it be denied, but that to scatter abroad that, which God hath gathered together; to dissuade those soldiers, which his divine majesty hath mustered to serve under his own standard; to destroy what God hath built; Finally to oppose and withstand the counsel if God, is a most heinous sin, and a great sacrilege committed against him, who is Lord both of heaven, and earth? And yet all those Parents and others, who seek to dehort their Children, or their friends from a Religious life (if so they were resolved to undergo that holy Course) are interessed in all the former rehearsed Transgressions.  
Let us produce the judgements of some ancient Fathers, touching the atrocity of the Parents sin herein. We will begin with S. 
a Chrysost. l. 3. cont. vi. cuperatvitae Monasticae.  Chrysostom, who reckoning up divers degrees of malice, which are found in any sin, wherein Charity is chiefly wanting, concludeth; That the greatest want of Charity is, voluntarily to ●ppose against a man's salvation. And thus in this father's judgement, Parents (through a prepo●erous love borne towards their Children, in dissuading them from a strict service of God) ●o become their parricides; and do commit so much the more cruel and inhuman murder of their Children, by how much the life of the soul is better, and more dear than the life of the Body.  
S. Anselm (that holy Father, and Bishop o●Canterbury) thus discourseth of the heinousn● of this sin in these words: if he, 
b Anselm. Ep. ad God●fr.  that separateth the precious from the base; that is, a soul from the World, be as the mouth of God; He then, who● mouth and hand draweth a soul, that adhereth ● God to the world, what shall he be? Shall not that fa● upon him, which our Lord saith: 
c Luc. ●●.  He that gathereth not with me, scattereth; and He, that is not wit● me, is against me? Thus S. Anselm.  
I will descend herein to the judgement of S. Bernard, who thus tragically amplifieth himself upon this subject: 
d Bernard. Ep. 111.  O hard-hearted Father, O cruel Mother, O barbarous, and impious Parents; yea not parents, but peremptory mankillers whose sorrows are the safety of their Children, whos● comforts their destruction; who had rather their Children should perish with them, then reign without them. O strange abuse, &c. If Parents care not for their own salvation, what availeth it them to persecute their Children? What comfort can be that burneth afford them that burn? Or what comfort is it to the damned, to have fellows of their damnation▪ Thus much (worthy Sir) for a taste of the former three holy Fathers, touching the great impiety committed by Parents, in seeking to withdraw their Children from the most blessed Course of a Religious and votary life.  
In this next passage, I will descend to some few examples (omitting many others, for greater expedition) wherein God hath showed his revengeful hand against those, who have impugned a Religious life. S. Jerome 
e Jerom. in his Ep to L●ta.  recounteth, that one Praetextata, a noble Marrone, by commandment of her husband, who was vn●le to the Virgin Eustochium who had devoted herself to a Religious life, did change the said virgin's apparel for braver clothes, and curiously did comb her hair after the fashion of the world; and all this to withdraw Eusto●hium from a Religious life. But behold (Saith S. Jerome) the same night after Praetextata had done ●his she sees in her sheep an angel that came to her, breathing with a terrible voice to punish her in these words. Wert thou so bold as to prefer the commandment of thy husband, before Christ: How durst thou handle the head of the Virgin of God, with thy Sacri●egious hands? Which hands shall even now wither away, that thou thus tormented Mayst feel, what thou hast done; and at the end of the fifth month thou shalt ●e carried to Hell. Thus S. Jerome; and he relateth for certain, that her hands were presently then withered and dried, and that at the end of the time prefixed, she died.  
S. Ambrose recordeth of a Noble young Gentlewoman (who was then living, when he wrote the relation) how that flying to the Altar, out of a great desire she had to be Religious; divers of her nearest friends were much against this her pious determination, and one of them in a harsh and uncivil manner thus rebuked her; 
f Libde Virgin●●.  if thy Father were now living, dost thou think he would suffer thee to live unmarried. To whom the chaste Virgin thus mildly answered: Perhaps my Father therefore died, that he might not hinder me. The end hereof was, that this unkind friend of hers died within a short time, after he had thus reprehended the Virgin; the rest of her friends ascribing the cause of hi● unexpected death to his rough words giue● to her. And thereupon all they, who before were ready to dissuade her from entering in t●Religion, did after most willingly give their a●sents thereto.  
I will conclude this point of Example● wherein God's revenge hath been manifeste● in punishing of those, who labour to impug●● and resist his Ordination of such, as desired t● forsake the world, with the Example of o●● called Pontianus, who was but a Bond slaue● a cruel and barbarous Master. This ma● through desire of living a Saintly life, fled unto a Monastery. But his Master demanding him with great importunity, look him from thence. But what was his punishment therefore? He was instantly strooken stone blind and so by losing his sight, he fully acknowledged his former sin, and was most willing that Pontianus his slave should return unto the Monastery. Yet notwithstanding hi● consent thereto, his Master recovered nor hi● sight, till Pontianus had touched his eyes with his hands, that so it might more evidently appear, that his former transgression and 〈◊〉 was the cause of his blindness. This History i● relaied by S. Gregory 
g Gregor Taro. in vita Pontia●i. c. 5.  of Tours, a Venerable and Worthy author.  
To come to the third, and last point of the subject before mentioned, that is, to warrant with force of Reason, that Parents ought to rest content, and satisfied with their Children ●o● their entering into a Religious life. I thus affirm, that when Parents do freely offer up some of their Children to the peculiar service of God, they depart with nothing therein, which is truly and solely their own, but only willingly restore to God, what was God's before. And thus God by demanding them, challengeth but what is his right, and his own; and therefore that Parent, who shall retain and keep back any of his children from God, committeth a horrible sacrilege against his divine majesty; since it is God, not the Parent, (who was but a secondary instrument under him, & this only for the body) who gave the first fabric and making to the child; and who a●one, without any concurrency of the Parents herein, infuseth the soul into the new begotten Body.  
Thus far (Worthy Sir) I have thought good to proceed for the better animating and encouraging of you, to rest content, or rather greatly to rejoice at God's good pleasure in taking your two Daughters to his peculiar service, and patronage. But now good Lady Gynoecia, since you are a Woman, I will produce (for your greater corroboration herein) two Examples of Women, showing most admirable and spiritual fortitude in the loss and death of their Children; Much more then, ought you to entertain with all eavenues and quietness of mind, the absence of your two Daughters, entering into a Religious Course.  
The first shall be that Noble Woman, who was the mother of the most valiant Machabe●●; who saw not one, or two only, but seven of her sons put to most barbarous death even in her own presence, because they would no● violate, and break the Law given to them from God; and yet she was so far from being disanimated or grieved here with, as that (a● the Scripture relateth) the 
h ●. Machab. 7.  exhorted stoutly every one of her sons, to be constant in his Religious in her own Country language, filled with wisdom, & instilling manly Courage, to her womanish thoughts.  
And here madam, you are to take notize that this happened in the time of the Old Law which time served but as a Type, or Figure o● the time of the gospel; which, with reference to the time of the Old Testament, is (as the 
i Hebr. 8.  Apostle (Saith) established in better promises. if the●● a Woman in that imperfect time, had such spiritual Fortitude, as to rejoice at her. Children's death, suffered for the Honour of) God, and to encourage them to persever to the end in enduring their torments; shall not a Christian & Catholic Lady (such as you are) now in the time of the gospel (which affoardeth far grea●ter measure of Grace) fully be resolved with a● resignation of Will and judgement, to forbear● the corporal presence only of her daughters, devoting themselves to the more peculiar service of their Lord and Redeemer?  
The second example, which I will present to your ladyship, is of one Melania, a most noble matron of Rome; of whom S. Jerome thus writeth: 
k Jerome in Epitaph. Blessillae.  Sancta Melania nostri temporis &c. Saine Melania, being the true Honour and Nobility among Christians of our time, when the dead body of her husband was scarce cold, and not huried, did lose together two sons. I am to relate (Saith S. Jerome) an incredible thing, but I call Christ to witness a thing most true. Who would not think, that this afflicted Lady would not after a frantic manner, have for grief, torn her hair, cut asunder her apparel and have strucken her breast with grievous knocks and strokes? Not one tear did she shed; she stood immovable, and prostrating herself at the feet of Christ, as though she would take hold of him, she smiled, saying; O sweet Lord, I shall hereafter serve thee with greater promptitude and readiness, since thou hast freed me from so great a burden. Thus S. Jerome, of this blessed Woman.  
And now good madam, (since for your comfort and satisfaction chiefly, I have produced these two examples of Women) I here demand of you, whether you be persuaded, that either of these two matrons, would have grieved at God's calling of their children into the state of Religion, who with wonderful fortitude and magnanimity did endure even the deaths of them? I know you be not. Why then will yourself repine, and grudge at God's most merciful proceeding, in causing your two daughters (Caelia, and Cosmophila) to forsake this wicked world, and to oblige themselves (by solemn Vow) to a Religious serving of his divine majesty?  
Well, to proceed a little further (Worthy Knight:) You may think, what a spiritual Treasure you have of your two daughters; Since when yourself is entangled and embroiled in the thoughts of temporal business (which ever is attended on with great anxiery and distraction of mind, and with no small hurt to devotion) your two daughters (like two humble Suppliants) not only in the day time, but even in the midst of the silent night (when yourself doth take your swee● repose and rest) shall even be siege the ears o●God with their forcible and irresistible prayers that he would vouchsafe to direct all your Actions, to the honour of himself, & to your own souls eternal salvation. O most inexplicable privilege, and highly to be prized by all virtuous, Catholic Parents?  
I will urge one short Reason more, and so end. If we believe, that so great a number of Christians (Even of those who profess a right saith) do perish eternally, according to that 
(l) Math. 20.  saying of our Lord and saviour; Many be called but few be chosen: Why then should a Parent be unwilling, and withdrawing back his consent, that his Children should enter into that state of life, wherein consisteth the greatest hope and security of salvation? And the rather, since the main reason, why so few are chosen, and so many damned, is because by their living in the world, and neglecting their souls eternal Good, they become thrall to the vanities, unlawful pleasures, sins, and deceits thereof? Is not then that Parent most unkind, (or rather unnatural) that whereas there are two wales set down in Scripture, the one the strait way, leading the 
m Math. 7. Luc. 13.  soul to life; the other the broad way (Here in this world) bringing to 
n 2. Pet. 3.  distraction, and to the unsupportable torments of hell-fire, should nevertheless persuade his Children (being the issue of his own body, & deriving their blood from his blood) to live & spend their days in this Broad dangerous way, wholly dissuading and discouncelling them yea and this sometimes with threats, and vn●ind usage) from entering into the Narrow way? God grant, that many Parents in England be not interessed in this atrocity of sin!  
And so Noble Sir, seeing this my letter to you grows long (I hope, through your favourable acceptance thereof, not tedious) I will therefore conclude it with the words of S. Basill, (a most ancient and learned Father) who giveth his wholesome and Christian counsel, touching this subject in general, in these words: 
o Basil praepat. in Ascen.  Seeing so great rewards are offered them that follow the warfare of Christ, let Fathers willingly permit their sons, and Mothers their Daughters to come to him, and bring their Children with comfort and cheerfulness unto him; And let them rejoice at the hope of immortal Goods, whereof they shallbe partakers together with their Children; and endeavour to have them their patroness in the sight of God Let us ●ake care (I beseech you) lest we show ourselves to be too straight-hearted in this unseasonable love of our Children; and let not the labours affright us, to which they seem to go; but rather rejoice, that they shall meet with so great Glory. Let us offer to God that, which we have received of him, that 〈◊〉 may also have ●art of the glory and commendation of our Children, offering ourselves together with them. Thus far this ●earned doctor. Whose words (as I said) shall give a full close to this my Letter, presuming that you both, will take this my labour charicharitably, since it really proceeds from Charity; and so shall I ever rest at your command, in all Christian and spiritual service.  
N. N. Confessarius of the English nun in Belgiopolis.  
Syr Orthodoxus his answer, to the foresaid Letter of the Confessarius.  
VEry reverend Sir: It is now two months, since I received yours, and my two Daughters Letters, as also your pious and learned Discourse, which you used toward, my daughter Cosmophila. I was loath to return any answer to you, or them presently, or upon the sudden, because such my answer might perhaps be presumed to proceed from grief, passion, and a violent entertaining (at the first sight) the Occurrences specified in those Letters.  
Now therefore Tour reverence may take notice hereby, that I have not only read, but even studied your whole Discourse, with your letters sent unto me; as also you may be aduertized hereby, that upon my more retired, and dispassionate thoughts, I and my wife do greatly acknowledge our former error, in she wing any reluctation, or drawing back of our daughter Caelia, from her already undertaken life; or of our daughter Cosmophila from her entering into the said Course. Your Arguments set down in your writings (I grant) convince me: Your authorities drawn from the words of the ancient Fathers (whose judgement all humble Christians ought to obey) do ●uersway me; Briefly, the force both of your writings, and of my daughter's letters, have how at the last wrought such a sovereignty, or Influence over both me and my wife, as that we give even infinite thanks to the Almighty, for distilling into them those holy Inspirations, which at this instant so strongly pre●ayle in their souls.  
And to lay open myself more plainly unto you, I confess, that since my first receiving of your letters. I have perused some Authors treating of this particular subject, controuer●ed in your Discourse and letters; and I acknowledge, they wholly make against my former opinion therein. Therefore let both my dear Daughters rest satisfied hereby. that I had ●ather die, then seek to pervert, or alter their ●ow settled determinations. No: God hath chosen them both to himself, and hath chosen but what afore was his own: And shall a carnal Father, or Mother dislike, or repine at such a choice? O God forbid! And truly besides the force of your Authorities in behalf of Religious life (which, I grant, are strong with me) I have (as above I touched) lately perused divers others main motives, conducing to the proof of the said point, before by me impugned.  
And first I find, that though Parents have a certain kind of authority over their Children, yet this authority is but delegated, or by deputation from God; as being but part of that authority, which God originally hath in himself over the said Children. Now I mu●● needs say, that therefore if God command one thing, and the Parents the contrary; the Child is obliged to obey God, rather than his Parents. That this is most true, I grant is proved in that God himself is he, from whom all Paternity (as the 
p Ephes. 3.  Apostle saith) is derived.  
I will infist in one only reason more, which is in part touched in your large Discourse, and indeed very much commandeth me. It is this That, which we receive from our parent's i● very small, in respect of that, which we receive from God; The evidency of which Assertion is thus made clear: Whereas Man i● compounded of soul and body; The soul i● much more precious than the Body: Now the Parents have no hand in creating the soul since it is only God, who createth and infuleth it. Therefore it is usually taken, as a Principle with the learned; That God by creating the soul doth infuse it into the body, and by infusing it doth create it.  
And as touching the making of the Body Man only affordeth a little seminal matter thereto; but how this seminal matter ought to be framed with all its parts and lineaments the Parents know not, that being the work of God, ordained in the first creation, or making of Man. Since than what we receive from ou● Parents, touching the being either of the soul or the Body, is infinitely inferior to that, which therein we receive from God: how dishonourable then, wereit to his divine majesty, for the Parent to expect his Child in any commandment to obey him, and thereby to disobey God? ●o far you see by my speeches (reverend Sir) is my judgement altered herein, from what before it was. Therefore my desire is, that though myself be changed in judgement, yet let not my Daughters change theirs. O no! Let them in God's holy Name go forward with all spiritual alacrity and consolation, in their already chosen Vocation.  
But now to reflect upon my own state: I ●o unspeakably repent me of my former error (God grant not sin) in labouring to with ●raw my daughter Caelia from her monastical ●ife. His divine goodness interpose his mercy between me, & that unlawful Act of mine; and let my tears already shed in that behalf receiving their force and virtue from the ears of our Redeemer, spent for the salvation ●f us all) absterge and wipe away this my former fault.  
And in very indeed I do apprehend my offence therein to be far the greater, from this en●ing Consideration: We observe daily, that a man, who laboureth to learn any mechanical Art, or Trade, much more to get knowledge in my of the seven liberal Sciences, will not content himself with a competency, or me●iocrity of learning in his Mystery, but will endeavour to arrive to all perfection therein. If than a Christians designed Art, or Mystery (as I ●ay term it) be to know, how to serve his creator and Redeemer, in the highest degree of virtue and Piety; How great hath my former oversight been (so mildly to term it) in seeking to persuade my eldest Daughter to rest contented, in leading an ordinary, and common life of other Lay-Catholikes; and by endeavouring to withdraw her from aspiring to any higher degree of virtue, both by my former letters, and by sending my Daughter Cosmophila over, to recall her into England? Here I fully acknowledge my former weakness of judgement.  
But now (Good Sir,) I will more fully, even pour out the secrets of my soul unto you. I freely grant, your Discourse to have had such working force upon mine, & my wifes understanding, as that we both acknowledge God's most merciful goodness in the disposal of our two Daughters. Yea we further proceed, and wish you to take notice hereby, that for expiating, and redeeming of our former offence, touching our said Daughter, and of all our other sins during our whole life, we both are resolved for the time hereafter, not to live together as man and wife, but to separate ourselves, and both to lead a Monastical and votary life; I, in some city of Belgiopolis, & in some convent there of the Capuchins (men most Blessed and Religious) of whom many (as I am informed) have heretofore lived markably in the world; My wife in your own Monastery of nuns (if so she can procure the Lady abbess, and your Consents thereto:) And thus my wife for her spiritual good, i● most willing to become herself an humble sister, even to her own Daughters.  
For Alas, Sir! What in true judgement should detain us from taking this Course? With three Children God hath blessed us; One son, and two Daughters, and they all dead (as I may say) in our own life time. Our only son, whom I hoped would have been the Arch, as it were, & stay of my House, died naturally; Our two daughters are also dead unto the world. Therefore I see hereby (my wife being past Childbirth) that it is God's good pleasure, that not any of my own body shall inherit my temporal state: His blessed will be done.  
And since God is the sole true Lord of the earth, and of all things therein, I willingly & freely say with the Psalmist: Domins 
q Psal. 23.  est terra & plenitudo eius: The earth is our Lords, and the fullness thereof, the round world, and all that dwell therein: Therefore I most humbly submit myself to his only pleasure herein. And let them inherit my temporal means, whom it shall best please his divine majesty to appoint. Though I could wish (and accordingly, I intend to dispose, if so it may stand with his gracious goodness) that the half of my Lands be given to him, who is nearest to me in kindred of my own Name (such a strong tye have human and natural respects in us) and the other half of my state be to be sold, and distributed to spiritual uses, for the good of mine own, my wives, & my two Daughters souls.  
This is all, that I can say, only (as above I have fully delivered myself) you may certify my two Daughters, how joyfully I conceive of both their choices, & withal to let them know, that I at this present do forbear particularly to answer their letters, in that this to you (Sir) doth sufficiently satisfy the contents of theirs; as also, because both I, and their Mother (God seconding our resolutions) hope to enjoy their sight and presence, within these few weeks. Thus in the mean time, much acknowledging your former pious care towards them, I end, ever remaining,  
Reverend Sir, Yours in all respectful observancy, Orthodoxus.  

The conclusion, to the reverend superiors, & devout Sisters of all the English Monasteries of Religious Women beyond the Seas.  
reverend superiors, and you virtuous Sisters, my pen here makes bold (in place of a Conclusion to the former Treatise) to salute you all. What I have above delivered in the Dialogue, proceedeth from the great respect. I bear to your blessed Course of life; and therefore I did hold myself partly even obliged in Conscience, to promote and advance by my writings (what I could) the Worth and Dignity of your even heavenly State here upon earth; and to encourage such others, who are careful of their souls Good, and whose state of life is compatible with a Religious Order, to impath themselves in that most secure tract and way.  
O what pity is it, to see many young Gentlewomen so to slight, and smally regard their own happiness? And therefore God hath bestowed upon you greater measure of his grace; who breaking through all the worldly entanglements, wherewith others remain shackled, have actually begun to tread the most safe path to heaven. If a man could by certain labours acquire, and procure to himself a Thousands pounds, would he rest satisfied by seeking after a Hundred only? Or what woman would be content to become a maid of Honour to any Princess, might she become a Princess herself? And yet no less is the ouer●ight o● such young Gentlewomen, who may purchase to themselves, not transitory Goods, but an eternal kingdom, and yet will not: and may without attendance to any temporal Princess (how great soever) arrive to be Queens themselves (for all women, that shall gain heaven, shall be Queens in heaven) and yet do greatly show their neglect thereof.  
Thrice happy therefore are you, most virtuous, and Religious Sisters, who have overcome your natural desires of temporal pleasures & dignities, and raised your thoughts and endeavours to the gaining of that most blessed kingdom, which shall endure for all eternity! Happy (I say) you are, since by your Religious 〈◊〉 you fly from the world, and from all the dangers thereof: So fully have you verified in yourselves, that sentence of the royal Prophet: Who will give me the wings, like a dove, and 
Psalm. 54.  I will fly, and take my rest? So you by withdrawing yourselves from the world; are retired to a place, and state of security.  
Of this flight S. Ambrose thus writeth: Let us not be ashamed to fly; for it is a glorious flight, to fly 
Ambros. de fuga saecul. c. 4.  from the face of sin. And indeed this holy Father speaketh with good reason; For, here to fly, is to overcome: And this not only because we keep ourselves safe and secure, in bearing a● lose off, and far distant from the Enemy; but also by reason we give the Enemy cause of discomfiture, even by our flight; we being by this means far less subject to those his spiritual stratagems, where with he overthroweth so many souls, living in the world. Therefore I may conclude, that since a Religious State is most high in perfection, and above the Earth and all Earthly things; it may be truly termed a mountain. whereunto the calamities and miseries of this world cannot ascend, o● arrive. What inexplicable consolation & joy then, do you all live in, who are securely seated upon this high mountain?  
But now, my pen must take leave of you (during the space of some lines in this Conclusion) to turn itself (by way of a warrant table Digression) to such young unmarried Catholic Gentle women, who have great portions left them by their Parents, and yet cannot be induced by this my small labour, nor by any other persuasions perhaps whatsoever, to enter into the state of a Religious life; but are absolutely, and immoveably resolved, to live in the world, in state of Lay persons. As also my open here speaketh to such Catholic Gentlewomen, and Ladies of Worth and Dignity, who aboúd with a fluency of rich estates, and remain widows, and therein have full power to dispose at their pleasure of their Temporalities; and yet cannot be drawn (either through pretence of want of health, or greatness of years, or through some other self conceited reasons) to spend the small remnant of their lives in a Religious Course. To you all of both these several degrees, I direct these ensuing lines: And hereby desire you all (Even as you tender the good of your own souls) that if so you cannot brook to be Religious, in profession; yet at least resolve to be Religious, in disposal of part of your temporal means. O what spiritual treasure, and riches might you board up to yourselves, by distributing to good uses a reasonable portion of your worldly treasure?  
How many young Catholic Gentlewomen are there in England, who most gladly thirst after a Votary life, and yet want sufficient portions for their Admittance into Religion? Here now is presented to you all, a large, field wherein to sow your wheat: Here is presented a most aduamtagious opportunity of making nuns, though yourselves will not be nuns. My meaning is, that you would lay in wait to further, and second by your most large Charity such poor Gentlewomen, as would gladly take a Religious Course, and yet for want of means, are debarred from thence. Here were true Charity, and here you might be justly said to put your money out to usury, even to God himself, according to those words: Foeneratu● 
proverb. 19  Domino qui miseretur pauperis: He, that hath mercy on the poor, putteth out his money to our Lord.  
Besides the state of these poor Gentlewomen (whose temporal abilities are not proportionable and suitable to their Religious designs) I here also present to your Charitable view, the state of some of our already settled English Monasteries of Women, who, resolving to rely only upon the providence of God, have no certain temporal revenues belonging to their Houses, but receive all their maintenance and allowance from the Charity of well disposed benefactors: Which Charities and benevosences (since they are merely voluntarily given) do fall oftentimes short; so as the poor Blessed Women suffer for the present some want.  
Now here again I say is offered to you a second way of making spiritual interest of the superfluity of your states or riches; That is, so out of true Christian Charity you would be pleased to open your purses largely, for the better relief of such virtuous Women, (who● are both poor in Spirit, and poor in State) as willingly suffer these pressures, for the love they bear to the true service of God, O how most acceptable would this your charity appear in the sight of God, being bestowed either of the two waves, (I mean) either for the furthering of those most virtuously disposed young Gentlewomen, who want means for their procuring to enter into Religion or for the better relieving of such English Monasteries of nuns, who possess no certain proprieties, but only rely upon the Charity of benefactors, and other well disposed almes-gives?  
If it be most pleasing to God, and a work meriting of heaven, to dispose part of ones Goods and substance to such poor people, who here live in the world, and commonly ●ead but sorry, yea dissolute lives, according to our saviour's words delivered without any reference to the lives of the poor: Come you blessed 
Math. 25.  of my Father, possess you a kingdom prepared for you from the foundation of the world; for I was hungry, and you gave me to eat; I was a thirsty, and you have me to drink: I say, if this kind of alms given only promiscuosly to men, or women who are poor (not withstanding their ill lives) be grateful to God; How worthy then, how Christian-like, how meritorious, through God's merciful acceptance thereof, must that Charity, and almsdeed appear in the sight of the divine majesty, which is bestowed upon the relieving only of such blessed women, who either without such Charity cannot profess a Religious life, or who actually living in that most ●lessed state, do suffer somewant & ●enury? No tongue of man or angel can fully show God's acceptableness of such a Charity. Why then, Worthy Gentlewomen (to whom I direct these my speeches) will any of you be so straitlaced, or so niggard, in forbearing to employ a part of your substance upon so fruitful ● ground, at will afford so great an harvest, and gain to your souls▪ Certainly you hereby become even enemies to your own selves.  
divers of you (as experience sheweth) ar● well content to bestow great, and unnecessary charges upon your apparel and attire (and this sometimes above your states and calling: in like sort are ready now, and then to mak● needless journeys to London, to the exhausting from you of some hundred of pounds, fruitlessly spent. And can you then, be so indulgent to your bodies, and so rigorous to you● souls (the most noble and chiefest part o● you) as to reserve little, or nothing for procuring your eternal Felicity? O turn the channel of these your wasteful expenses, and le● every one of you adopt her own soul, as fo● her own Child; My meaning is, that yo●● would aff●ord a child's part (at least) of your state and temporalities, to be given for the good of your soul. A poor and niggardly invitation (God knows) to prize your own souls at so little of worth, which Christ did buy and ransom at the high rate, of shedding his most precious blood? And far short thi● your Charity is, from the Charity of Zachaeus who as we read in the gospel, even upon his first fight of our saviour, gave half of hi● Goods to the poor. 
Luc. 19   
Now, if so you resolve to bestow upon your own souls only so much, as I her● propose; where then with greater spiritual Interest, or at fury, can you place it, then upon these virtuous women, above by me expressed who both by day and night, will be ever ready to pour out the vials of their Prayers, before his divine goodness, that he would vouch●afe to protect you with his Grace, that in the End you may reign with him in his celestial kingdom for ever? Here then, to speak more particularly to you (Great Catholic La●ies, or Gentlewomen of Worth,) who yet remain ●n state of your Widowhood; Now after the death of your husbands, and before your second marriage, you may (if so your Charity be answerable to God's holy inspirations given unto you) even (so to say) bring forth, & become Mothers to many spiritual Daughters; I mean of many Religious Women, by distributing part of your temporal state unto them. And so yourselves might be said (in a restrained sense) to be become Religious persons by your Substitutes. O that you would deeply conceive, of the great privilege, which you enjoy at this present. Therefore take advantage of the time, when time is, and this before your second marriage.  
One most forcible Reason, for my fuller persuading of you to this spiritual Charity, shall be taken from the doctrine of Purgatory, which you all (as being Catholics) do firmly believe. Now here you are to take into your memory these three points following. First, that the pains of Purgatory (though enduring but for certain years) are most insupportable: of which pains S. Austin thus writeth (as is above showed in this Treatise.) 
Austin. l. de vera & falsa poenitentia. c● 18.  The fire of Purgatory (though it be not everlasting) yet it is passing grievous; for it doth exceed all pains, that man can suffer in this life.  
Secondly, you are to call to mind, that considering God's justice (who punisheth the least sins) even the greatest Saints, as S. Austin. S. Gregory, S. Bernard &c. have stood i● great fear and horror of these pains. I wi●● content myself here with repeating the words of S. Bernard (a most eminent Saint, ● by institution. Father of many Religious monks) above related of this point, wh●● thus meditateth hereof: O would to God some ma● 
〈◊〉. Serm. de Six tribulat. cap. 1●. & 55 in Cant.  aforehand would provide for my head abundance water, and for mine eyes a fountain of tears; that 〈◊〉 perhaps the burning fire should take no hold, wher● running tears had cleansed before.  
Lastly, you cannot but know, that if men o● such extraordinary holiness, as these forme● Saints were, did stand in dread of the (Ormennt of Purgatory; what is then the case of all you who live in the world in fullness of pleasure especially considering that God in his ●usties will ask an account of every idle word, much more or bad Actions? How many of you do wast, and ravel out several years in unnecessary charges of apparel, in spending diuer● hours daily in adorning and triming up your bodies to be gazed upon by men; and in diuer● other such vanities? As certain, as God is God so certain it is, that you are to make satisfaction, either in this world, or in the next to endure the fire of Purgatory, for a dessgned time, for the appeasing of God's justice herein Where then; is there any wit or judgement in such of you, who may redeem your smalle● sins in this world by your almsdeeds for thus we read the Prophet Daniel to say: ●edeeme thy sins with alms, and thine iniquities 
Dan. c. 4.  ●ith the mercy of the poor) and yet will not, but solve to pay all those debts in that raging and purging fire?  
If a man were indebted a Thousand pounds. and that were to be paid some very few ●eares hence, and yet might redeem the said ●ebt by paying presently but one Hundred ●unds, or less; would he not labour (it so he ●ad any brains) to procure the hundred ●ounds, though presently, for the redeeming so far greater a debt? Your case is here the ●●me. It is in your power to free yourselves ●om the torments of Purgatory (at least to shor●n the time of your sufferance there) by your ●reat Charity, and almsdeeds, now showed ●n your life time. If you have not the cou●●ge to part with some of your goods, whiles ●ou live, you must hereafter make infinitely a ●ore grievous satisfaction for your sins in ●urgatory. Therefore become nor vassals and ●ues to your own Riches; but distribute a ●ood part of them to spiritual uses, and to the ●enching of those hideous flames, which ●therwise you are unavoidably to endure. ●nd if so you resolve to become friends to our own souls by practising of Charity, ●nd of relieving such as most do need; you cannot more fruitfully lay out your Riches (as ●boue I said) for the good of your souls, ●hen either in furthering of such young virtuous ●entlewomen, who gladly would lead a Religious life, and yet want temporal means for their placing them in that Course; or else fo● the greater supply towards those English Monasteries beyond sees, who stand in need thereof.  
Thus far (worthy Catholic Gentlewomen, ● ladies') I have thought good to proceed i● exhorting you to such truly Noble Acts ●Christian Charity. And with this my pen taken leave of you. Only I cannot here forbear ● relate the unworthy custom of many worldly (yet Catholic) Parents; who will be content most willingly to give fifteen hundred or two thousand pounds (and perhaps 〈◊〉 much more) with one of their Daughters, t● place her in marriage, and yet if the said daughter resolve to lead a votary, and unmarie life, they will seek to put her of into a Monastery, in bestowing upon her some three o● four hundred pounds at the most. Do no● such Worldlings prefer a temporal Husband before Christ? What Indignity (indeed wha● sacrilege) is this to the saviour of the world That a daughter must fare far worse at he Parents hands, because she had rather espous● herself to Christ, then to a mortal man? Bu● let such Parents assure themselves, that the their disualewing of the service of God i● their Children, will hereafter be attended o● with due punishments, answerable to thei● present neglect, and small respect they bear to a Religious and spiritual life.  
Well my pen shall here stay itself from further discourse; And shall take leave of yo● all to whom this Conclusion is directed. Her then, for the last Closure of all I most humble beseech you (Most virtuous and Religious Vota●●es) that in regard of the reverend and wor●y respect I bear to your most Blessed State manifested according to my ability in this ●ecedent Treatise) you would vouchsafe me our daily prayers to the almighty, for the re●ission of my sins. You practise your cont●nuall Charity in other your Actions: I be●●ech you, extend the like Charity to this my ●ost earnest suit. I speak not this by way ●f form, or ceremony (as many writers are customed to do, wherewith to close their ●pistles Dedicatory:) Noe. It is truly a most ●hirsty desire in me to have such Blessed souls as you are) to be intercessors to his divine majesty, in my behalf, yet living (or hereafter ●ead. My feeble, old, and languishing body. ●ttended on with divers infirmities, cannot ●ould out long; O pray then, (You Charitable ●elegious Women) that the time of my dissolu●●on may be most happy to my soul; that so may presently after enjoy the comfortable, ●nd ineffable sight of the most Blessed Trinity●r ever. Thus in confidence of your accomlishing this my Christian desire, I cease, ever continuing  
Your humble, and devoted servant in Christ Jesus. N. N.  
FINIS.