TIMES TREASURY: OR, ACADEMY for GENTRY. Laying down excellent grounds both Divine and Humane, in relation to Sexes of Both Kinds: For their accomplishment in arguments of Discourse, Habit, Fashion: and happy progress in their Spiritual Conversation. Revised, Corrected, and Enlarged, with A LADIES LOVE-LECTURE; And a SUPPLEMENT, Entitled, THE TURTLES TRIUMPH: Summing up all in an exquisite Character of Honour. By R I: Brathwait Esq. LONDON, Printed for Nath: Brooke, at the Angel in Cornhill. 1652. TO THE RIGHT HONOURABLE, WILLIAM, EARL of STRAFFORD; Son and Heir to that incomparable Masterpiece of Wit, Worth and Wisdom, THOMAS, Lord WENTWORTH, Viscount WOODHOUSE. Late Lord Deputy of IRELAND, My Constantly memorised and perpetually endeared MAECENAS. All corresponding honour and happiness Suitable to a Branch of such rising hopes; Lineally ennobled and enabled to all proficience. HIGHLY HONOURED; PIety, as it hath the promise, so it renders the best deblazon to the House of Honour. In which highest ascent of Heraldry, (for all other Titles or Gradations appear irreall and shady;) Virtue the greatest Signal and Symbol of Gentry, is rather expressed by goodness of Person, than greatness of Place. For, howsoever the bleere-eyed Vulgar honour the Purple more than the person, descent more than desert, title than merit: that adulterate Gentility, N●e levier tibi culpa fuit crevisse per Orbem; Grande Satis Genti Crimen boxore frui. Sta. which degenerates from the worth of her Ancestors, derogates likewise from the birth of her Ancestors. It is true indeed, that Desert hath at all times had some sinister eye darting on it: especially, where Malignant spirits held it a sufficient Crime, to grow great. For these, forth of a restless ambition, were ever interposing a Cloud betwixt deserving men and the Sunrising. Altius Surgentes, innocentes licet, Comitatur Suspicio. Tacit. But so strongly fenced were they with integrity: and so richly furnished in principles of Theory, and Humane Philosophy, as they accounted it too light an encounter to enter Lists with such Opponents; Majori invidas foveam parat; quam ne devitet, unâ corruet. Minutius. whom they held so far unworthy of their hate, as they pitied their weakness. Their spite fell infinitely below their spirit; their spleen beneath their Scorn. For such was their quickness and vivacity of Spirit, as they could look Death in the face with more cheerfulness, than those Spongy Puffins could brook Competition: or idolise their adulterate Greatness. Now, for this attractive Object of Honour, as it has been God's goodness, lineal descendence, and your Princes especial Observance, in relation to your incomparable Father, to advance you to it; So has it been hitherto your happiness, in this your hopeful proficience and graceful initiation to business, to entertain Humility and Integrity for your Retainers, the better to preserve you in it. This is the way, as your genuine Candour and noble experience hath found it, to make all good men, your Friends: and to admit none to repine at your rising, but virtue's Foes. And such Censorious Pursuers of their eminentest actions, have our Heroick'st Spirits in all ages patiently suffered: Making use of them as necessary Monitors, to put them in mind how to compose and regulate the posture of their greatness. And these were such, whose infant Effeminacy, youthful Delicacy, or native liberty had estranged them from the knowledge of Moral or Divine Mysteries: so as, they might be well compared to the Ostrich, who (as the Natural Historian reports) hath the wings of an Eagle, but never mounts: So These had the Eagle-wings of Contemplation, being endued with the intellectual faculties of a reasonable Soul; yet either entangled with the light Chesses of vanity, or trashed with the chequered poises of Selfe-conceipt and Singularity, they never mounted above the verge of Sensual pleasure. But I am here to tender unto your Honour's judicious view, a Gentleman, quite of an other garb: a Complete Academic, a Civilised Scholar, and a Scholastic Courtier. One whose Education hath made formal enough, without apish formality: and conceiving enough, without self admiring arrogancy. A good Christian in devout practising, no less than Zealous professing; yet none of the forwardest in discoursing on Religion. For He observes (as long experience & Select acquaintance have brought him to be a judicious Observer) that Discourse of Religion hath so occupied the World, as it hath well-near driven the practice thereof out of the World. Where most men have more of tongue than life: and more ready to dispute than live: Seeking rather to be accounted. Eloquent Orators, then Sincere Christians: Scholists than Practists. He esteems such only happy, who are of that number whom the World accounts Fools, but God, Wise men. He understands, that whatsoever is sought besides God, may so employ the Mind, as it may be occupied, but never satisfied. He observes the whole Fabric of humane power; and he concludes with the Preacher; Ecquid tam vanum? He notes how the Flesh becoming obedient, behaveth herself as a faithful Servant to the Soul: This governeth, the other is governed; This commandeth, the other obeyeth. Finally, he sums up all his Observations with this: He that Sigheth not while he is a Pilgrim, shall never rejoice when he is a Citizen. This is the Graduate in this Academy for Gentry, whom I have here again presumed to recommend to your protection: and to you he makes recourse, not so much for shelter, as honour; (having sole interest in it by right from your Father:) For his Title, it exempts him from servile bashfulness, being a Person so freely indenized, so completely endowed. Neither can He do less then ingenuously collect, how by your Father's graceful Patronage; (whose obliged servant I was in his life; and faithful Remembrancer in his death:) He has been cried up with a general suffrage: attesting withal, that no prejudicated Critic, whose use it is never to judge of the purity of a Lamp, till it expire in the Socket, durst assail him; since his Honours improved Command, arched with so integrious a Protection, did secure him. Nor is He changed from what he was, although improved by this new Edition: Nor hopes he to fi●de you otherwise, than your prudent Father's reflections ever were; (whose imparaleled parts and immerited favours to me, Mancipia 〈◊〉 lectionis cum fint. shall retain a constant Anniversary in me;) to the Muses, and their refined Fancies a professed Guardian. Now, if any of those corky Censurers, Qui Mercurium in linguâ non in Pectore gerunt, shall chance to accost my Gentleman: I resolve me, his Education hath made him so accomplished at all Assays, and his conversing with the most piercing'st judgements, hath brought him to that pefection, as he can discern of what mould or temper these Critics are; For my Dedication, in stead of all unnecessary excuses of presumption; I will close briefly with this constant Resolution:" Though to your Title there be Honour due," It is Yourself that makes me Honour you. concluding, Voces sunt, praeterea nihil, as is said of the Nighting all. This only resteth; If I limne him to the life, in spite of Censure, he will merit the Patronage of Honour: if I fail in my Art, (as I dare not presume of my strength) it is in your Honour to impute the fault rather to the Pen than the Man; whose intimate affection to your Lordship, will quickly sweeten and attemper the rigidst Censure: and sign an easy indulgence to such an obsequious error. Your Honours in all Devotion, lineally obliged, R I: BRATHWAIT. THE ENGLISH GENTLEMAN. Youth. Argument. The dangers that attend on Youth; The vanity of Youth, displayed in four distinct Subjects; Three violent passions incident to Youth; Physic prescribed, and receipts applied to cure these Maladies in Youth. Youth. HOwsoever some more curiously than needfully may seem to reason, Observa●. 1. that there be divers Climacterical or dangerous years in man's time; sure I am, that in man's age there is a dangerous time, in respect of those Sinne-spreading Sores which soil and blemish the glorious image of the Soul. And this time is Youth, an affecter of all licentious liberty, The dangers that attend on Youths a Comic introducer of all vanity, and the only 〈◊〉 apparent to carnal security. This it was which moved that princely Prophet to pray, Lord forgive me the sins of my youth. Sin's indeed; because the youthful sinner is ever committing, but never repenting; usually provoking God, but rarely invoking God. This is he who Snuffeth the wind, Vnum est instar bell●ae humiliari, aliud est belluiros mores imitari. with the wild Ass in the desert, being like the Horse or Mule which hath no understanding, by giving Sense preeminence above Reason: and walking in the fatness of his heart, as one wholly forgetful of God. He may say with the Psalmist, though in another sense, Vt jumentum factus sum apud te: upon exposition of which sentence, it is laudable (saith Euthymius) that in the sight of God we take ourselves as Beasts to show our humility, but not to resemble beasts in ignorance or brutish sensuality. Many are the dangerous shelves which menace ruin and shipwreck to the inconsiderate and improvident Soul, during her sojourning here in this Tabernacle of clay: but no time more perilous than the heat of * Vicina lapsibus adolescenti●. Hieron. Omniainb ac aetate juvenescunt vitia. Euseb. lib. 3.17 Youth, or more apt to give fuel to the fire of all inordinate desires; being as ready to consent, as the Devil is to tempt, and most willing to enter parley with her spiritual enemy upon the least assault. It is reported by Eusebius, that S. john meeting a strong youngman, of good stature, amiable feature, sweet countenance, and great spirit, straightway looking upon the Bishop of that place, he said thus unto him: Christ being witness and before the Church, I commend unto thee and thy care this young man, to be especially regarded and educated in all spiritual discipline. Whom when the Bishop had received into his tuition, and promised that he would perform whatsoever he ought, Saint john again and again gives his charge, and contesteth his fidelity: and afterwards he returns to Ephesus. The Bishop takes the young man home; brings him up as his own son, keeps him within the limits of his duty, entreats him gently, and at last baptizeth him, and confirms him. Afterwards, upon remitting something of his care, and giving freer reins to his liberty, the young man takes occasion to shake off the yoke of tuition, and falls into bad company, who corrupt him: diverting his course from the path of virtue by these means: First, they invite him to banquets, than they carry him abroad in the Night, afterward to maintain their profuser expense, they draw him to thievery, and so by degrees to greater wickedness, being now made Captain in this thievish company. At last Saint john returns and saith; Go to Bishop, give me my depositum which I and Christ committed unto thee in the Church which thou governest. This Bishop was astonished, thinking that he had deceitfully demanded some money which he never received, and yet durst scarce distrust the Apostle. But as soon as Saint john said, I demand the young man and soul of my brother: the old man hanging down his head, Modò inveniaem, non perditus est, etc. Euseb. ibid.; sighing and weeping, said; Ille mortuus est, he is dead; How and with what kind of death, said john? Deo mortuus est, he is dead unto God, answered the Bishop: Nam nequam & perditus, & uno verbo Latro evasit: for he is wicked and lost, and in a word a Thief. Much matter might be collected from this Story, to enlarge the ground of our Proposition, to wit, what imminent dangers are ever attending on Youth, and how easy it is by the painted flag of vanity, and sensual pleasure, to draw him to ruin. For doubtless, many excellent rules of instruction had this grave Bishop delivered and imparted to his young Pupil: many devout tasks and holy exercises had he commended to his practice: many prayers full of fervent zeal had he offered for his conversion: many sighs had he sent, many tears had he shed to reclaim him from his former conversation. Yet see, how soon this youthful Libertine forgets those instructions which he had taught him, those holy tasks which were enjoined him, those zealous prayers which were offered for him, those unfeigned sighs and tears which were shed for him! He leaves this aged Father, to become a Robber, he fl●es from the Temple to the mountain; he puts off the robe of truth, and disguiseth himself with the vizard of theft. And no small thief, but a Leader. Rachel was a thief, for she stole idols from her father; josuah was a thief, seeing he stole grapes from Canaan; David was a thief, seeing he stole the bottle of water from Saul; jonathan was a thief, since he stole honey from the hive; josaba was a thief, since he stole the infant joash. But here was a thief of another nature; one, whose vocation was injury, profession thievery, and practice cruelty: one, whose ingratitude towards his reverend Foster-father, merited sharpest censure: for Bysias the Grecian, Siingratum dixeris, Omnia dixeris. Min. Publianus. Osiges the Lacedaemonian, Bracaras the Theban, and Scipio the Roman, esteemed it less punishment to be exiled, than to remain at home with those that were ungrateful for their service. So as, it is not only grief, but also a perilous thing, to have to do with ungrateful men. And wherein might ingratitude be more fully exemplified than in this Youngman, whose disobedience to his Tutor, slighting his advice that had fostered him, deserved severest chastisement? But to observe the cause of his fall; we shall find how soon those good impressions, which he had formerly received, were quite razed and defaced in him, by reason of depraved company: Qui simus, Quinam erimus, in Ephebio constitutum est. whence we may gather, that Youth being indeed the Philosophers rasa tabula, is apt to receive any good impressure, but spotted with the pitch of vice, it hardly ever regains her former purity. Whence we are taught, not to touch pitch▪ lest we ●e defilade for as that divine Father saith, Occasiones faciunt Latrones. Truth is, the sweetest Apples are the soon corrupted, and the best natures quickliest depraved. How necessary therefore, the care and respect Youth ought to have in the choice and election of his Company, may appear by this one example, which showeth that Society is of such power, as by it Saints are turned into Serpents, Doves into Devils: for, with the wise we shall learn wisdom, and with the fool we shall learn foolishness. Dangerous therefore it is, to leave illimited Youth to itself: Diog. Cyn. yea, to suffer Youth so much as to converse with itself. So as, that Greek Sage, seeing a Young man privately retired all alone, demanded of him what he was doing? Lectum non citius relinquens, quam in Deum delinquens: non citius surgens, quam insurgens. The vanity of Youth displayed in four distinct Subjects. who answered, he was talking to himself. Take heed, quoth he, thou talk not with thine enemy. For the natural proneness of Youth to irregular liberty is such, as it is ever suggesting matter of innovation to the Soveraingtie of reason. Now to reduce these enormities incident to Youth, to certain principal heads, we will display the Vanity of Youth in these four distinct Subjects: Gate, Look, Speech, Habit: that by insisting and discoursing on each particular, we may receive the feature of Lady Vanity portrayed to the life. IT is strange to observe how the very Body expresseth the secret fantasies of the mind: GATE. and how well the one sympathizeth with the other. I have seen even in this one motion, the Gate, such especial arguments of a proud heart, as if the body had been transparent, it could not have represented him more fully. And I have wondered, how Man endued with reason, could be so far estranged from that wherewith he was endued; as to strut so proudly with feet of earth, as if he were never to return to earth. But especially, when Youth is employed in ushering his Mistress, he walks in the street as if he were dancing a measure. He verily imagines the eyes of the whole City are fixed on him, as the very pattern which they esteem worthy imitation: how nearly then concerns it him to stand upon his equipage. He walks, as if he were an upright man, but his sincerity consist only in dimension. He fears nothing so much as some rude encounter for the Wall, Audacia pro muro bebetur. Sallust. in bell. Caril. and so be discredited in the sight of his Idol. Now I would be glad to wean this Fantastic from a vein of lightness, and habituate him to a more generous form. First, he is to know, how that which is most native and least affective, deserves choicest acceptance. We were not borne to glory in our feet, the Bases of Mortality: but to walk as children of light, in holiness and integrity. Safer it were for us, to observe and make use of that, which the Swan is reported to use, when at any time she glories in the whiteness of her colour, to wit, she reflects her eye upon her black feet, which qualifies her proud spirit: making her so much the more dejected, as joying before in her own beauty, she was erected. Excellently was that Emblem of humane frailty shadowed in the image of Agathocles the Syracusan tyrant, who commanded his Statue to be composed after this fort: the Head to be of gold, signifying pureness; the arms of ivory, intimating smoothness; the body of brass, implying strongness; but the feet of earth, importing weakness. Be the Head-piece never so pure; be it a Diadem of gold we wear, it cannot promise to us perpetuity; we stand on earthen feet, how may we then stand long, Dan. 4.27. relying on such weak supporters? Though Nabuchadnezzar strut never so proudly upon the turrets of his princely Palace, 29. saying, Is not this great Babel which I have builded? 30. he knows not how soon he shall be deprived of his glory, and be enforced to feed with the Beasts of the field, being as one estranged from his former magnificence. Quid ergo ad nos consolatio mundi? Seneca. Let us not glory in mundane vanity, nor repose too much confidence in these feet of frailty. Si pes in terris, mens sit in coelis; Though our foot be on earth, let our mind be in heaven: knowing, that (as Saint Augustine saith) Three cubits of earth do expect us; and how little or much so ere we possess, this is all that shall be left us. LOOK. THe next Subject we are to treat of in this Display of youthful vanity, is his Look: wherein he is ever noted to show a kind of contempt, expressing by his eye, what he conceives in his heart. Here is oculatus testis, an eyewitness to tax him of his pride; disdaining to fix his eye upon the lower shrubs, as if a reflex on them should derogate from his glory. They that looked upon Sylla's ring, could not choose but take notice both of Sylla's seal and the treason of jugurth; Plutarch. in vit. Syll. so he, that should but eye a proud Look, could not choose but collect from what heart so disdainful a Look proceeded. I have ever observed, the most generous to be least affective in this kind: for it is, and hath been ever an inherent propriety in them, to express a generous affability as well in Look as Speech. The eyes (saith a good Father) are members of the flesh, August. but windows of the mind; which, Eaglelike, should be ever erected to the beams of righteousness, and not depressed by any unworthy object of external baseness. The only Sight of God is the true food and refection of our minds: Gregor. we look to be satisfied, but satisfaction we cannot find in any outward object; much less in contempt of our poor brother, who many times exceeds us more in worth, than we him in birth. But tell me Young Gallant, what it is that moveth thee to this contempt of others? Is it thy descent? alas, that is none of thine; thou derivest that glory from thine Ancestors, whose honour by thy ignoble life, dieth. Yea, recall to mind how many glorious Houses now lie buried in the grave of oblivion, by the vicious course of irregular Successors: and again, how many Houses, whose Names formerly were not so much as known, either raised from others ruin, or advanced by industrious merit, usurp their glory. Is it thy Riches? Indeed, if the Philosopher's Axiom be true; Riches is a sign of eternal glory, there were some reason to glory in them: but we shall find this glory merely imaginary, yea a great darkener and blemisher of the internal glory & beauty of the mind. For as the Moon doth never eclipse, but when she is at the Full: so the Mind is never so much obscured, as it is with the superfluity of Riches. And again, as the Moon is farthest off from the Sun which giveth it light, when it is at the Full; so a Man, when he is the fullest of Riches, is farthest off from that equity and justice, which ought to give him light in all his proceedings. And therefore, he might do well herein to imitate the Fly, which putteth not her feet in the great mass of honey, but only taketh and tasteth with her tongue so much thereof as serveth her turn, and no more, lest by doing otherwise, she might remain taken and drowned therein, Yea, if we should but reflect and take a view of certain Ethnics, whose admirable contempt of Riches eternised them, we should observe what inimitable continency was in them, and what an Hydropticke thirst of avarice remaineth as yet unquenched in us. And though we must live according to Laws, and not to Examples, yet Cicero held that nought could be taught without example; wherefore, to enforce this argument further, we will here produce certain Heathens, who contemned Riches so much, as being offered, yea obtruded, they would not accept them. Anacharses' refused the treasure sent him by Croesus: Anacreontes refused the treasure sent him by Polycrates: and Albionus refused the treasure sent him by Antigonus. The like moderation we read in Fabius Maximus, Crates, Mimus, and most of the Greek Philosophers. This indifferency towards Fortune, De tran●. an. is excellently described by the sententious Seneca concluding, Nihil eripit fortuna, nisi quod ipsa dedit. To insist on more examples, were to enlarge this branch too much; we will therefore shut them all up with that divine observation of the wise Simonides; who being asked once, whether Virtue or Riches were of more reputation, made answer, That the virtuous did more frequent the doors of the rich, Quo ●ltior in diviti●s, eo copiofier in vitiis. than the rich the virtuous: Thence inferring, that Wealth was a great nourisher of Vice, and Poverty of Virtue; or rather implying, how those who are richest are ofttimes the retchlest, being ever with vices more infected, who are to highest fortunes advanced. Wherefore I assure me, thou wilt not glory in riches for they deprave the Soul, Ber. de inter. Dom. which should be in the Body, like a Queen in her Palace. Whence then proceedeth this haughty Look? perchance thou wilt object, that thou art a man of Place; admit thou be'st: is there nothing thou canst find to express the eminence or greatness of thy Place, to which thou art called, save a disdainful of surly Look, a neglectful or scornful countenance, contemptuously thrown upon thy inferior? Surely, if such an one thou be, how great soever thou be, I will admire rather thy Seat than thy Self: and conclude with Aristippus, A stone sits upon a stone. These are they, at whom our Modern Poet glanced pleasantly, when he saith; They dare not smile beyond a point, for fear t'unstarch their Look, So punctual and formal they are, as besides a kind of formal and fantastic humour they are nothing: or to express them better; They think it a derogation to honour, to converse with baseness; They show a great deal of peremptory command in an awful Look, imagining it a sufficient argument of greatness, for Midas' Ass to have Minos' countenance: For thus hath Time drawn out their forms to me, They be and seem not, seem what least they be. Since than neither Descent, for that is derived from others; nor riches, aptest to deprave us of all others; nor place, being worst expressed in glorifying ourselves and contemning others; should move us to put on the countenance of disdain to our inferiors: we are to conclude, that Humility, as it opens the gate unto glory, so Affability, a virtue right worthy every generous mind, cannot be better planted than in the eyes, those Sentinels which guard us, those two Lights which direct us, those adamantine Orbs which attract affection to us. Metam. 1. A face erected, first to man was given, T'erect his eyes unto the King of heaven. Let not then any other object entertain it, at least, not retain it: if they be to be employed in any worldly object, let them be employed in contemplating his works who made the world; for all other objects are but mere vanity and affliction of spirit. SPEECH. THe third Subject we are to discourse of, is Speech; a propriety wherein Man is distinguished from other creatures: yea, the only means to preserve society among humane creatures. Sine loquela non potest stare societas. Arist. Aug. de Magist. Psal. 141.3. Quanto melius est docere quam loqui, tanto melior est quam verba locutio, saith S. Augustine: By how much better it is to teach than to speak, by so much better is Speech than words. Here this learned Father maketh a main difference betwixt Speech and Words: which distinction may be properly applied to the argument whereof we now treat. The rash Young man, who useth no guard to his mouth, nor no gate of circumstance unto his lips, inureth himself to many words, but little Speech. Now to define Speech, it is nothing else than an apt composing, Prov. 25.11. and an opportunate uttering of words; whence it is said, Words spoken in season or opportunity, are like apples of gold with pictures of silver. And herein is Youth many times blame-worthy, who will profess himself a Speaker, before he know what to speak; yea putting his oar in every man's boat, admits no conference, not treaty, no discourse, how transcendent soever, but he will be a Speaker: though it ofttimes moves some wise Photion to say to this jangling Pythias, Good God, will this fool never leave his babbling? In vit. Phoc. Aristotle debating of the convenience and propriety of discourse before Alexander, maintained that none were to be admitted to Speak but either those that managed his wars, or his Philosophers which governed his house. In lib. desecr. secret. Observe here what strictness was imposed even upon Heathens, to restrain them from too much liberty of Speech, only such being admitted to speak, whose approved judgement in military or philosophical discourse might worthily be said to deserve attention. Divers reasons of no small consequence might be here produced, why Young men were not to give their opinions in any matter of State in public places; Two reasons why Young men were not admitted to deliver their opinions in public assemblies. but we will reduce them to two. The first whereof may be imputed to their rashness in resolving; the second to a passionate hotness in proceeding. For the first, to wit rashness in resolving: it is the property of Youth without premeditation to resolve, and without counsel to execute. Now is it possible any good effect should succeed from such unsteady grounds? Yes, you will say; some are of that present and pregnant conceit, as a matter is no sooner imparted, than they apprehend it: and for Speech, divers have had such excellent gifts, as they would show more native eloquence in a Speech presently composed, than upon longer preparation addressed. Did not Tiberius' better in any Oration ex tempore, than premeditate? Have not many in like sort, as if secretly * 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉. inspired, expressed and delivered abundance of profound learning upon the present? It is true; yet are we not hence to collect that premeditation is fruitless, that rash and inconsiderate resolves are to be admitted, or Young men's advice, which is for most part grounded on opinionate arrogancy, 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, not 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, secundum opinionem, non secundum veritatem, should be authentic. For admit Young men were eloquent, yet foolish eloquence (which must needs be in unseasoned Youth) is as a sword in a madman's hand, Pi●● Mirand. in epist. ad Hermol. it cannot but hurt much; being first, apt to persuade, and likewise by delivering dangerous matter, no less prompt to deprave the ear that is persuaded. The second reason which we observed, why Youth was not to give his opinion in any public place, was his hotness in proceeding. It is intolerable for these Young-heads to be opposed: they are deaf to reason, as if opinion had possessed them of purpose to oppose reason. Neque iocas, neque amicus quisquam teget, quem arma non texerint. ● Sallust. in bell. jugurth. Ferociam animi, quam babebat vivus, in vultu retinuit Catilina. Sallust. in Conjur. Catil. Sallust. This appeared in those violent attempts of Catiline, Cethegus, Lentulus, and their factious adherents; who, though privately cautioned and friendly advised by such, whose long experienced love and fidelity assured them of their unfeigned amity; yet rather than they would lose the opportunity of their aims, all counsel must be rejected, and their own private opinions (without ground of reason) embraced. But to come nearer them in our discourse: these Young-blouds use rather, Catiline-like, to speak much and do little, than jugurth-like, to speak little and do much. Of all Inns, they love not that of Harpocrates, with the sign of the finger on his mouth. They are unmeasurably passionate in any argument; and so nailed to their own opinion, as conceit transports them above reason, and leaves no place for contradiction. It is commonly said, that Law, Logic, and the Swissers may be hired to fight for any one; Law, Logic, and the Swissers may be hired to fight for any one. and we have found out one that will match them. Now you have received the character of his Speech, I would labour to reclaim him from his error; which to effect the better, he must know, that being a Gentleman, (for to such an one chiefly do I direct my discourse) he can asperse no greater imputation on Gentry, than in exercising his tongue in fruitless and frivolous discourse, or spending his breath in useless or needless contention. Blos. The tongue (as one observes) is a small member; but very glibery and prone to ruin: apt it is to rebel, if not restrained; prompt to innovate, if not confined. But of all the sallies or excursions which are made by the tongue, none in my conceit less beseeming a Gentleman, than in giving reins to passions, to slave himself to illimited fury: much more profit should he find in expostulating with passion, recalling to mind that saying of Archytas so much commended; who being angry with one of his hinds, said, O how would I have beaten thee, had I not been angry with thee? Where two meek men meet together, their conference (saith Bernard) is sweet and profitable; where one man is meek, it is profitable; where neither, it proves pernicious. May your Speech, (Gentlemen) be so seasoned, as it may relish of discretion: 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉. Basil. Virtus maxima, in mole minima. rather learn the art of silence, than to incur the opinion of rashness: for the one seldom gives argument of offence, but the other ever. Speak, but not with affectation, for that gives a better relish to the ear, than to the conceit: Speak, but not in assentation, for that is mercenary, and seems better in the mouth of a slavish Sycophant, than a generous professant: Speak freely, yet with reservation lest the Comedians phrase have some allusion to your openness; being so full of chinks, as secrecy can have no hope to find harbour in your bosom. As to Speak all that we know▪ showeth weakness: so to impart nothing of that we know, infers too much closeness: to observe a mean in these extremes, choice respect is to be had with whom we converse. If we find him apt to conceal we may more safely and freely deliver our mind; Singular directions in arguments of discourse, & discovery of secrets. but where suspicion of secrecy ministers argument of distrust, we are to be more cautelous: for it is great folly to engage our thoughts to the secrecy of him whom we know not. Worthy commendation was Augustus in this respect, who was so choice in the election of a friend, to whom he might communicate his privatest thoughts, as he would employ much time in searching and sifting him, ere he would retain him. And hence I might take occasion to tax divers, who are too ready to open their bosoms unto all encounters; and yet I must freely confess, that this credulity of theirs, merely proceeds from the goodness of their nature: for they imagine (such is their easy simplicity) that others are as secret, as they open. Such is the affability of unexperienced Youth, as they cannot reserve the secretest of their thoughts, but must discover them upon the first view to their first acquaintance: whence Plautus, Benignitas eius ut adolescentuli est; wherein he seems to instance Youth, as a pattern of ingenuous affability: no less ready to utter his thoughts, than his subtle applauder is to hear them. Much more fruit should he reap by observing that divine precept of Ecclesiasticus: Thou that art young speak, if need be, and yet scarcely when thou art twice asked. Eccl. 22.8, 9 Comprehend much in few words; in many be as one that is ignorant: be as one that understandeth, and yet hold thy tongue. Wherein he proposeth an exact rule to be observed by Youth, even in circumstance, as well as substance of Speech. Now it may be expected, that I should propose a form for words, as I have proposed a rule for discourse; but my reply to him, who expects this, shall be the same which Demosthenes made to Aeschynes the Orator; who having found fault with Demosthenes questioning him of certain words which he had pronounced something rare and strange, was in this sort answered by him; That the fortunes of Greece depended not upon them. Only thus much I will add, to reclaim him, who more curiously than pertinently, insisteth rather on Words than Substance: that as there is no man but would esteem him for an indiscreet builder, who preferreth the care of his frontispiece before the main foundation; or such an one for a foolish Painter, who bestoweth more art upon the varnish than the picture: so whosoever intendeth his care rather to find out words than matter, may be holden for a verbal Rhetorician, but no serious Orator. To be short, if you will have my opinion touching the use of words; I esteem such to be most elegant, which are least affected; for there is a native propriety of Speech which best becomes us; being adorned with such ornaments, as grace our discourse better than adulterate art, which many times bestows so much time upon beautifying herself, as she forgers whom she should serve. We are now to descend briefly to the last, HABIT. though not least vanity incident to Youth; and it is Habit or Attire. Wherein I have not a little wondered, falling now and then into more serious meditation with myself, how any man, having reflex, by the eye of his Soul, to his first fall, should glory in these robes or rags of shame, being purposely invented to cover his sin. Sin indeed; for had not man sinned, his shame had never been discovered. Poor Fig-leaues were then the only shelter, to shroud from shame this miserable sinner. Then was Adam his own Tailor, and stood not much on fashion, so his nakedness might find a cover. Come then and hear me, thou perfumed Gallant, whose sense chiefly consists in sent; and observe how much thou derogat'st from thy own worth, the covering a shell of corruption with such bravery. All gorgeous Attire is the attire of sin; it declines from the use for which it was ordained, to wit, Necessity, and dilates itself purposely to accomplish the desire of vanity. Foreign Nations, on whose flowery borders the glorious Sunshine of the Gospel hath not as yet shined, though for their Silks and Sables, none more plenteous or precious, yet with what indifferency do they use these riches? It may be you will object, that Art hath not as yet shown her cunning amongst them; so as their neglect of fashion merely proceedeth from want of skilful Artists, to introduce the form or fashion of other Countries (by means of civil government, more curious and exquisite) to their people. But I shall prove, & that by impregnable arguments, how this contempt of pride is naturally planted in them; yea, with what scorn and derision they look upon other Countries, usually affected to this delicacy and effeminacy in apparel. Such as have traveled, and upon exact survey of the Natures of foreign Countries, have brought the rich fraught of knowledge stored with choicest observations to their native home, have confirmed this: for they have found such contempt in other Nations, touching these fruitless vanities, wherein we idolatrize our own forms, as it struck admiration in them, as their Records, to this day ext●nt, do apparently witness. To instance some whereof, as the Ruffian, Muscovian, jonian; yea even the barbarous Indian, it may appear with what reservancy they continue their ancient Habit; loath, it seems, to introduce any new custom, or to lose their antiquity for any vainglorious or affected Novelty: with a joint uniformity (as it seems) resolved, Tam in cultu Numivis, quam apparatu corporis, moribus legibusque uti praesentibus, etiamsi deteriores sint. But leaving them, because we will a while insist upon profane authorities; let us reflect our dim eyes, bleared with the thick scales of vanity, to those Divine Sages, whose excellent instructions no less imitable than admirable, merit our approbation and observation. In vit. Solon. It is reported by Laertius, that on a time Croesus, having adorned and beautified himself with the most exquisite ornaments of all kinds, that either Art or cost could devise; and sitting on a high Throne, to give more grace or lustre to his person, demanded of Solon if he ever saw a sight more beautiful? Yes (quoth he) House-cockes, Pheasants, and Peacocks; for they are clothed with a natural splendour or beauty bestowed on them by Nature, without any borrowed elegancy. The like contempt appeared in Eutrapelus; who valued the internal beauty of his mind, more than the adulterate varnish of Art. Besides, he was of this opinion, that he could not do his foe a greater injury, than bestow on him the preciousest garments he had, to make him forgetful of himself and his own frailty; whose nature the Poet excellently describeth thus: Horat. epist. l. 1. Ep. 18. The Sage Eutrapelus right wisely bade His foes should have the richest robes he had, Thinking he did them harm, himself much good, " For given, they made him humble, them more proud. Amongst many profitable Laws enacted by Numa, the Law * Vt in exequi is epulis que celebrandis nimioque apparatu corporis, omnis inutilis sumptus prohibeatur. Sumptuaria conferred no small benefit upon the State public. For by that Law was prohibited, not only all profuse charge in Funeral expenses, but likewise the excessive use of Apparel, whereby the Roman state grew in short time to great wealth, labouring to suppress those vices, which usually effeminate men the most, to wit, delicacy in fare, and sumptuousness in attire. Now there be many, I know, who invent fashions merely to cover their deformities, as julius Caesar wore a garland of Laurel to cover his baldness withal; and these seem excusable, but they are not: for did not he who made thee, bestow this form on thee? Could not he have stamped thee to the most exquisite or absolute feature, if it had so pleased thy Creator? And wilt thou now control thy Maker, and by art supply the defects of Nature? Beware of this evil: I can prescribe thee a better and safer course, how to rectify these deformities. Hast thou a crooked body? repair it with an upright soul. Art thou outwardly deformed? with spiritual graces be thou inwardly beautified. Art thou blind, or lame, or otherwise maimed? be not therewith dejected, for the Blind and Lame were invited. It is not the outward proportion, but the inward disposition; not the feature of the face, but the power of grace which worketh to salvation. Alcibiades, Socrates scholar, Plut. in vit. Alcibiad. was the best favoured Boy in Athens; yet, (to use the Philosopher's words) look but inwardly into his body, you will find nothing more odious. So as one compared them aptly (these fair ones I mean) to fair and beautiful Sepulchers; Exteriùs nitida, interiùs faetida; outwardly handsome, inwardly noisome. Notable was that observation of a learned Philosopher, Socrates. who professing himself a Schoolmaster, to instruct Youth, in the principles and grounds of Philosophy, used to hang a lookingglass in the School where he taught; wherein he showed to every scholar he had, his distinct feature or physiognomy: which he thus applied. If any one were of a beautiful or amiable countenance, he exhorted him to answer the beauty and comeliness of his face, with the beauty of a well-disposed or tempered mind; if otherwise he were deformed, or ill featured; he wished him so to adorn and beautify his mind, that the excellency of the one, might supply the defects or deformities of the other. But thou objectest; How should I express my descent, my place; or how seem worthy the company of eminent persons, with whom I consort, if I should sleight or disvalue this general-affected vanity Fashion? I will tell thee: thou canst not more generously, I will not say generally, express thy greatness of descent, place, or quality, nor seem better worthy the company with whom thou consortest or frequentest, than by erecting the glorious beams of thy mind, above these inferior things. For who are these with whom thou consortest? mere triflers away of time, bastard slips, degenerate imps, consumers of their patrimony, and in the end, (for what other end save misery may attend them?) Heirs to shame and infamy. These (I say) who offer their Morning prayers to the Glass, eyeing themselves so long, till Narcissus-like they fall in love with their own shadows: And many times like that wreathed Lady, if any deformity chance to blemish their beauty, they no sooner eye their glass, than the discovery of their deformity brings them to a fearful frency. O England, Mihi mirabile fit quòd non enecentur, cum tantum onas bajulent. Clem. Alex. 2, Paedagig. what a height of pride art thou grown to? yea, how much art thou grown unlike thyself? when, disvaluing thy own form, thou deformest thyself by borrowing a plume of every Country, to display thy pie-coloured flag of vanity. What painting, purfling, powdering and pargeting do you use, (ye Idols of vanity) to lure and allure men to break their first faith, forsake their first love, and, yield to your immodesty? How can you weep for your sins, Hier. ad Fur. de vid. Serm. Tom. 1. (saith Saint Hierome) when your tears will make furrows in your face? With what confidence do you lift up that countenance to heaven, which your Maker acknowledges not? Do not say that you have modest minds, when you have immodest eyes. Aug. de Christ. fide. Death hath entered in at your windows; your eyes are those crannies, those hateful portals, those fatal entrances, (which Tarpeia-like) by betraying the glorious fortress or citadel of your souls, have given easy way to your mortal enemy. utinam miserrimus ego, etc. I would I poor wretch (saith Tertulian) might see in that day of Christian exaltation, Tertul. de bab, Mul. cap. 7 An cum cerussa, & purpurisso, & croco, & cum illo ambitu capitis resurgatis: No, you stains to modesty, such a Picture shall not rise in glory before her Maker. There is no place for you; but for such women as array themselves in comely apparel, with shamefastness and modesty, not with broided ha●re, 1 Tim● 2.9.10. or gold, or pearls, or costly apparel. But, as becometh women that profess the fear of God. For even after this manner in time past did the holy women, which trusted in God, tyre themselves. Read, I say, read ye proud ones, 1 Pet. 3.5. ye which are so haughty, and walk with stretched-out necks, the Prophet Isaiah, and you shall find yourselves described, and the judgement of Desolation pronounced upon you. Because the Daughters of Zion are haughty, and walk with stretched-out necks, and with wand'ring eyes, walking and mincing as they go, and making a tinkling with their feet; therefore shall the Lord make the heads of the daughters of Zion bald, and the Lord shall discover their secret parts. And he proceeds: In that day shall the Lord take away the ornament of the slippers, and the calls, and the round tires. The sweet balls, and the bracelets, and the bonnets▪ The tires of the head, and the slops, and the headbands, and the tablets, and the earrings. The rings and the mufflers. The costly apparel, and the veils, and the wimples, and the crisping-pins. And the glasses, and the fine linen, and the hoods and the lawns. Now hear your reward: And in stead of sweet savour, there shall be stink, and in stead of a girdle, a rent, and in stead of dressing of the hair, baldness, and in stead of a stomacher a girdling of sackcloth, and burning in stead of beauty. Now attend your final destruction: Thy men shall fall by the sword, and thy strength in the battle. Then shall her gates mourn and lament, and she being desolate shall sit upon the ground. See how you are described, and how you shall be rewarded! Enjoy then sin for a season, and delight yourselves in the vanities of Youth: be your eyes the Lures of Lust, your ears the open receipts of shame, your hands the polluted instruments of sin: to be short, be your Souls, which should be the Temples of the Holy Ghost, cages of unclean birds; after all these things, what the Prophet hath threatened shall come upon you, and what shall then deliver you? not your Beauty; for to use that divine Distich of Innocentius, Tell me thou earthen vessel made of clay, What's Beauty worth, when thou must die to day? Nor Honour; for that shall lie in the dust, and sleep in the bed of earth. Nor Riches; for they shall not deliver in the day of wrath. Perchance they may bring you, when you are dead, in a comely funeral sort to your graves, or bestow on you a few mourning garments, or erect in your memory some gorgeous Monument, to show your vainglory in death, as well as life; but this is all: Those Riches which you got with such care, kept with such fear, lost with such grief, shall not afford you one comfortable hope in the hour of your passage hence; afflict they may, relieve they cannot. Nor Friends; for all they can do, is to attend you, and shed some friendly tears for you; but ere the Rosemary lose her colour, which sticked the Coarse, or one worm enter the shroud, which covered the Corpse, you are many times forgotten, your former glory extinguished, your eminent esteem obscured, your repute darkened, and with infamous aspersions often impeached. If a man (saith Seneca) find his friend sad, and so leave him sick without ministering any comfort to him, and poor without relieving him; we may think such an one goeth to jest, rather than visit or comfort: and such miserable comforters are these friends of yours. What then may deliver you in such gusts of affliction which assail you? Conscience; she it is that must either comfort you, or how miserable is your condition? She is that continual feast which must refresh you; those thousand witnesses that must answer for you; that light which must direct you; that familiar friend that must ever attend you; that faithful Counsellor that must advise you; that Balm of Gilead, that must renew you; that Palm of peace, which must crown you. Take heed therefore you wrong not this friend, for as you use her, Prima est haec ultio, quod se judice, nemo nocens absolvitur. juu. Sat. 13● you shall find her. She is not to be corrupted, her sincerity scorns it; She is not to be persuaded, for her resolution is grounded; She is not to be threatened, for her spirit sleights it. She is aptly compared in one respect to the Sea, she can endure no corruption to remain in her, but foams, and frets, and chafes, till all filth be removed from her. By Ebbing and flowing is she purged, nor is she at rest till she be rinsed. Fugit ab agro ad civitatem, Aug. in ena● sup. 45. Psal. à publico ad domum, à domo in cubiculum, etc. Discontentedly she flies from the Field to the City, from public resort to her private house, from her house to her chamber; She can rest in no place; Fury dogs her behind, Bern. de inter. domo. cap. 1. and Despair goes before. For Conscience being the inseparable glory or confusion of every one, according to the quality, disposition or dispensation of that Talon which is given him, for to whom much is given, much shall be required: We are to make such fruitful use of our Talon that the Conscience we profess may remain undefiled, the faith we have plighted may be inviolably preserved, the measure or Omer of grace we have received, may be increased, and God in all glorified. Which, the better to effect, we are to think how God is ever present in all our actions; and that (to use the words of Augustine) Whatsoever we do, Aug. Scliloq. cap. 14. Sen. ad Lucil. yea whatsoever it be that we do, he better knows it than we ourselves do. It was Seneca's counsel to his friend Lucilius, that whensoever he went about to do any thing, he should imagine Cato, or Scipio, or some other worthy Roman to be in presence. In imitation of so divine a Moral, let us in every action fix our eye upon our Maker, Whose eyes are upon the children of men; so shall we in respect of his sacred presence, to which we owe all devout reverence, Abstain from vill, do good, seek peace and ensue it. Such as defiled themselves with sin, Tuscul. quaest. lib. 1. by giving themselves over unto pleasure, staining the Nobility & splendour of their Souls through wallowing in vice; or otherwise fraudulently, by usurpation or base insinuation, creeping into Sovereignty, or unjustly governing the commonweal; such thought Socrates, that they went a by-path separated from the counsel of the gods: but such, as while they lived in their bodies, imitated the life of the gods, such he thought had an easy return to the place from whence they first came. If the Pagan had such a divine conceit of those, whose approved life represented a certain similitude or resemblance of God, as he imagined, no glory could be wanting to them, in regard of their integrity: let us embrace the like opinion, and express such apparent demonstrations of sanctity, that as we exceed the Pagan in regard of that precious light we enjoy, so we may exceed him in the conversation of the life we lead. But how should these painted Sepulchers, whose adulterate shape tastes of the shop, glorying in a borrowed beauty, ever meditate of these things? How should their care extend to heaven, whose Basilisk eyes are only fixed on the vanities of earth? How should that painted blush (that jewish confection) blush for her sin, whose impudent face hath outfaced shame? Two Loves (saith that learned Bishop of Hippo) make two Cities. August. sup. Psal. 64. Jerusalem is made by the love of God, but Babylon by the love of the world. And these are they, who engaged to worldly love, have forsaken their true love; they have divided their hearts, and estranged their affections from that Supreme or Sovereign good. O then (Young men) come not near the gate of this strange woman, Prov. ● 5. whose feet go down to death, and whose steps take hold on hell. This is the woman with an Harlot's behaviour, and subtle in heart. Prov. 7. This is she, who hath d●ckt her bed with ornaments, carpets and laces of Egypt's and perfuming her Bed with myrrh, Aloes and Cinnamon. Take heed thou sing not Lysimachus song; 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉. Arch. Tare●t. The pleasure of fornication is short, but the punishment of the fornicator eternal. But of this Subject we are more amply to treat hereafter; only my exhortation is to Youth, whose illimited desires tend ever to his ruin, that if at any time it be your fortune to encounter with these infectious ulcers, these sin-soothing, and soule-soiling Lepers; and they like that whorish woman in the Proverbs, invite you to their loathed dalliance, Prov. 7.18. saying, Come, let us take our fill of love until the morning: Come, let us take our pleasure in dalliance: that you shake off these vipers at the first assault, and prevent the occasion when it first offers itself. For know, that which a devout and learned. Father saith concerning the dangerous Habit of sin, is most true; Prima est quasi titillatio delectationis in cord secunda consensio, Aug. Ser. 44. tertium factum, quarta consuetudo. Sin begins with an ●ith, but ends with a scar. The first degree begins with delight, the second with consent, the third with act, and the fourth with custom. Thus sin by degrees in men of all degrees, like a broad-spreading tetter, runs over the whole beauty of a precious soul, exposing the fruits of the spirit to be corrupted by the suggestion of the flesh. But too far (I fear me) have I digressed from this last branch, whereof I was to discourse, to wit, of Habit, or Attire: albeit I have enlarged myself in nothing which may seem altogether impertinent to our present purpose. For discoursing of the vanity of women (whose fantastic Habits are daily Themes in public Theatres) I imagined it a necessary point to insist upon: partly to dissuade those Shee-painters of this flourishing Island from so base and prostitute practice. Base, for Festus Pompeius saith, that common and base whores, called Schaenicolae, used daubing of themselves, though with the vilest stuff. Partly to bring a loathing of them in the conceit of all young Gentlemen, whose best promising parts use often to be corrupted by their inchantmens'. Nazian. contra mulieres immodicè comptas. 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 etc. there is one flower to be loved of women, a good red, which is shamefastness. Saint Hierome to Marcelia saith, that those women are matter of scandal to Christian eyes, Quae purpurisso & quibusdam fucis ora oculosque depingunt. I might here likewise justly tax such effeminate Youths, Hier. de exitu Lea. whose womanish disposition hath begot in them a love to this hateful profession; but I will only use Diogenes' speech, which he made to one that had anointed his hairs; Laert. lib. 6. Cave ne capitis suaveolentia vitae maleolentiam adducat. Or that saying he used to a Youth too curiously and effeminately dressed: If thou goest to men, all this is but in vain; if unto women, it is wicked. So as being asked a question of a Young man, very neatly and finely apparelled, Laert. ibid. he said, he would not answer him till he put off his apparel to see whether he were a man or a woman. There is another Objection, which I imagine Youth will allege, to prove how expedient it is for him to be choice or curious in respect of apparel. It gains him more acceptance and esteem with men of eminent place. But harken how the Apostle opposeth himself to this; reproving such whose judgement consists in the eye rather than in the brain proceeding thus; james 2.2. If there come into your company a man with a gold-ring, and in goodly apparel, and there come in also a poor man in vile raiment, and ye have a respect to him that weareth the gay clothing, 3. and say unto him, Sat thou here in a goodly place; 4. and say unto the poor, Stand thou there, or sit here under my footstool: Are ye not partial in yourselves, and are become judges of evil thoughts? Seneca So as, howsoever these diffident worldlings, Annulo maegis credunt quam animo; It is not the Habit, but the heart which God accepts: yet most acceptable is that Habit which is not so sumptuous as seemly, not so costly as comely. True indeed it is, that the popular eye, which cannot distinguish of the inward beauty, but observeth rather what we wear, than what we are, Act. 12.21, 22. admires nothing more than the outward Habit; as we may read how much Herod, being arrayed in royal apparel, was applauded by the people, 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉. who gave a shout, saying, The voice of God, and not of man. But that Allseeing and All-scearching ear of the Divine Majesty seeth not as man seeth. He prefers Lazarus rags before Dives robes. Though the one be clothed in purple and ●ine linen, and the other seem despicable in the eye of the world, Aug. in respect of his Nakedness; yet, mortua necessitate, peribunt opera necessitatis: the one is translated to glory boundless, the other to misery endless; for this sorrow which he here felt, ended when he did end; but the joy which he obtained, exceeded all end. Thus far have I laboured to answer all such objections as might be proposed in defence of this generall-approved vanity, concluding; Quod peccata Sericea, teterrima sunt vitia; No sins like to silken sins, for they ever crave impunity, the foster-mother of all impiety. I intent yet to proceed in deciphering the lightness of Youth, Three violent passions incident to Youth. by expressing three grand Maladies incident to Youth; whereof I purpose to dilate particularly, to move the Young man to be more cautelous of his ways, in the mazie Labyrinth of this life. These three (for all the rest may be reduced to them) are comprehended under Lust, Ambition, Revenge; of which briefly, according to our former Method, we purpose here to entreat. SO exposed is Youth to sense, and so much estranged from the government of reason; LUST. as it prosecutes with eagerness whatsoever is once entertained with affection. This might appear in the ruins of Troy, occasioned by the unlawful love of Paris; where the violent intrusion and usurpation of another's Bed, brought an irreparable fall to the Trojans. Some have given two reasons; Two reasons why Youth is naturally subjected to illimited passion. Why Youth is more subject to this illimited passion, than any other age. The first is, that natural heat or vigour, which is most predominant in Youth, provoking him to attempt the greatest of difficulties, rather than suffer the repulse where he affects. The second is, want of employment: which begets this distemperature; whence the Poet. Take away Idleness, and without doubt, Cupid's how breaks, and all his Lamps go out. This want of employment was it, which moved Aegistus to show himself more familiar with Clytaemnestra, than stood well with his honour; for had he ranked himself with those valiant greeks, whose resolute adventures gained them general esteem, he had prevented occasion and purchased himself equal renown by his valour, as by vain expense of time he incurred dishonour. Witty and proper was that elegant invention of Lucian, who feigning Cupid. to invite the gods to an amorous feast, prevailed with all of them to give way to Love, till he came to Pallas; but she was found conversing with the Muses, and would admit of no time to enter parley with Cupid. True it is, that exercise draweth the mind from effeminacy: and remissness feeds the desire, and adds fuel to unlawful heat. And no less occasion gives wanton discourse, or Lascivious Books to the enraged affections of distempered Youth: so as, much more blessed were the State, if restraint were made of composing or publishing such Subjects, where every leaf instructs Youth in a new lesson of folly. Alcaeus a man of good reputation and general observance in the Commonwealth; what toys wrote he of the love of young men? All the writings of Anacreon are only of love. But most of all other, Rheginus even burned with love, as appear by his writings. Yea, even Philosophers (and that by the counsel and authority of Plato, whom therefore Dicearchus did worthily reprehend) became the commenders and honourers of love. Such Discourses should, be thrown to the darkest corner of our studies, as that of Ovid's was by Augustus, which tend to corrupt Youth, and divert his mind from the exercise of virtue. But alas! to what height of licentious liberty are these corrupter times grown? When that Sex, where Modesty should claim a native prerogative, gives way to foments of exposed looseness; by not only attending to the wanton discourse of immodest Lovers, but carrying about them (even in their naked Bosoms, where chastest desires should only lodge) the amorous toys of Venus and Adonis: which Poem, with others of like nature, they hear with such attention, peruse with such devotion, and retain with such delectation, as no Subject can equally relish their unseasoned palate, like those lighter discourses. Yea (which hath struck me to more admiration) I have known divers, whose unriper years half assured me, that their green Youth had never instructed them in the knowledge, nor brought them to conceit of such vanities, excellently well read in those immodest Measures; yea, and prompt enough to show proofs of their reading in public places. I will not insist upon them, but leave them to have their names registered amongst those infamous Ladies; Sempronia, Scribonia, Clytaemnestra, Cleopatra, Faustina, Messalina, whose memories purchased by odious Lust, shall survive the course of time; as the memory of those famous Matrons, Octavia, Porcia, Caecilia, Cornelia, shall transcend the period of time. To express what especial motives tend most to increase of this passion, I think it not amiss: because I hold it necessary to propose the cause, before we come to cure the effect. For I think, according to the opinion of Socrates, that then my instructions have brought forth good fruit, when by them any one shall be provoked to apply his disposition to the knowledge and practice of virtue. Which, the better to effect, you shall know, that there is no one Motive more generally moving, An espiciall motive tending to the increase of this Passions Venus in vinis. or enforcing to an eager pursuit of our immoderate affections, than curious or luscious fare, delicious liquors, which might appear (if we should have recourse to History) in those prodigal feast of Antonius and Cleopatra: where no cost was spared to give more free course to lascivious desires. To prevent this, (as may be probably gathered) Greece in her flourishing estate, Nunquam ego ●brium putabo castum Hier. restrained women both public and private access to Banquets: and kinsmen kissed their kinswomen to know whether they drunk wine, or no, and if they had, to be punished by death, Plato. Plutarch. or banished into some Island. Plutarch saith, that if the Matrons had any necessity to drink wine, either because they were sick or weak, the Senate was to give them licence; and not then in Rome neither, Macrob. but out of the City. Macrobius saith, that there were two Senators in Rome chiding, and the one called the others wife an Adulteress; and the other his wife a Drunkard: and it was judged that to be a Drunkard was more infamy. Here we may collect what strictness, even the Heathen used, to observe a moral course, and to repress such inordinate motions, as most commonly invade the eminent'st States, when long peace hath rocked her people asleep, snorting in the downbed of security. Sure I am, as there is nothing which brings eithera public or private State to a remissness of government sooner than peace or plenty; so nothing effatuates the understanding of man more than excess in meat or drink, subjecting the intellective part to the bondage of Sense. For what may be the discourse of Epicurists, but lascivious, begot on excess of fare, curious and luscious? These are dilating ever on the rape of Ganymedes, Lais in Euripides. Beauty is their object, and Vanity their subject. White teeth, rolling eyes, a beautiful complexion (an exterior good) being that which Euryala praised, when she washed the feet of Ulysses, namely, Gentle speech, and tender flesh. Thus are their tongues tipped with vanity, their desires aiming at sensuality, and their delights engaged to fleshly liberty. Amongst the Romans; Venus or Cous was the best chance at dice: And no chance, (till some heavy mischance overtake them) more happy in their opinion, than to receive a loving smile or cheerful aspect from their terrestrial Venus. Some Countries I have read of, whose natural baseness, being given to all avarice, induced them to disesteem all respects in this kind, and to make merchandise of their women's honour. Such are the women of Sio reported to be, who are reputed for the most beautiful Dames of all the greeks in the world, and greatly given to Venery. Their Husbands are their Panders, and when they see any stranger arrive, they will presently demand if he would have a mistress: and so they make whores of their own wives, and are contented for a little gain to wear horns: such are the base minds of ignominious Cuckolds. Here is a dangerous I'll for our amorous Gallant, who makes his Travel (with grief I speak it) too oft the ruin of himself and his estate. Happy are those (but too few are those) who with wise Ithacus stop their ears to these Soule-tainting and Sinne-tempting Sirens. Yet some there are, and some there have been ever (I persuade me) whose noble conquests over themselves and their own desires, Q. Curt. lib. 3. have seconded, if not surpassed those many conquests which they achieved in foreign Nations. As the admirable continency of Alexander the Great, in sparing Darius' wife and his three daughters. The continency of Scipio during the space of four and twenty years, wherein his prosperous exploits could purchase him no more glory, than in the besieging and taking of a City in Spain, he gained him renown, by repressing his flame of Lust, when a beautiful Maid was brought him: restoring her with a great reward to Allancius, a Celtiberian Lord, to whom she was espoused. No less worthy was that part of Marius, who having Sylla's wife and sisters in his power, sent them nobly, unattempted. An example of like continency might he instanced in Mahomet the great, towards the fair * Irene. Greek; whom, albeit he entirely loved, yet to show unto his Peers, a princely command of himself and his affections; as he had incensed them before by loving her, so he regained their love by slighting her; whence the Poet: With that He drew his Turkish Scimitar, Which he did brandish o'er the Damsels head; Demanding of such janizers were there, If't were not pity shee'sd be slaughtered? Pity indeed; but I perforce must do That which displeaseth me, to pleasure you. Many such instances, ancient and modern Histories afford, but I must not insist on each particular, lest I should enlarge myself too much in this Branch. My exhortation shall be to such, whose unmellow years crave instruction, that they would betake themselves to employment: for Idleness maketh of men, women; of women, beasts; of beasts, monsters. And amongst employments, What rare effects the precepts of Moral Philosophy wrought in Heathen men. ever mix such Readins as may minister matter, either Divine, or Moral, to allay the heat of this distempered passion. We read of the Roman Stilpho, that albeit he was naturally addicted to all incontinency, yet by reading certain precepts of Moral Philosophy, he became an absolute commander of his own affections. Hate to consent to that, which so transforms man, as he wholly loseth the true title of man, and becometh merely bestial. Nos qui accepimus rationis lucem communem cum Angelis, non transeamus vitam in silentio cum pecoribus. Thou art beautified with an Angelical feature; let it not participate of any inferior creature. To be short, art thou a Gentleman? bear that posture still: stain not a native glory with an infamous blemish. Etiam feris ac Barbaris detestabile est. Ambr. lib. 1. de Abraham. This vice of all others, derogates most from Honour: for we commonly say, Such, whose lightness incurs scandal, to have lost their Honour. O let not the Honour of a generous mind suffer eclipse, for a minute's pleasure! Lais ask of Demosthenes so much for one Nights-lodging, he presently replied: I will not buy repentance at so dear a rate. Vid. Aul. Gell. in Noct. Atticis. Dearer is the rate of shame, than of Coin. Prize Honour at that estimate, as the height of pleasure may never have power to surprise it. Canna, wife to Synattus, whom one Synoris, of greater authority than Synattus, loved: making no small means to obtain her love yet all in vain; supposed the readiest way for effecting his desire to be the death of her Husband, which he performed. This done, he renewed his suit▪ to which she seemingly consented. But being solemnly come into the Temple of Diana for celebrating the Nuptials, she had a sweet potion ready, which she drunk to Synoris, where with they both were poisoned, to revenge her Husband's death. Here is a Pagan pattern of inimitable continency; who rather than she would consent to contract Marriage with her Husband's foe, disvalue all future hope of preferment, yea embraced Death, Seneca. as a happy Agent of her intended revenge. The wise (saith that sententious Philosopher) may gather gold out of dung; which may be thus applied. The wise Christian, may cull excellent flowers from an Ethnic garden: for the Envious man he is the Spider which sucks poison from the fragrant'st and freshest Flowers. I will conclude this point; and entreat the generous affected, whose glory should be Virtue's Booty, and whose best beauty to be enriched by her bounty; to make Virtue their Prize, being so praiseworthy of herself, as she needs no outward praise. To purchase which incomparable blessing, I could wish, Gentlemen, that your resort to eminent places be more spare, — Rara est concordia formae, Atque pudicitiae. juven. Sat. 10. till you find in yourselves an aptness to resist, if any unchaste motion make assault. Yet good it were not to presume, upon one single trial▪ for the disposition may be more temperate are one time than another; and the assault also more perilous. To court Beauty is an enterprise of danger: for some I have known, who upon their access to Beauty, have been freemen, who upon their return, became slaves. But you will object; to vanquish where there is no assault made, is a weak conquest; True, but to play with the candle till we suffer our wings to be cinged, is a greater folly. I would not hazard my honour upon those terms, as by affronting temptation, to be caught. To conclude this Branch, as the substance of the Soul is pure, so this mass of flesh is corrupt: stain not the purity of the former, by conversing with the latter: for to parley with so subtle an enemy, is to give way to his policy. Observing these, you shall go to your graves with Honour▪ not too the graves of Lust, Numb. 11.34. the Sepulchers of shame, and receptacles of corrupted love. We will now descend to the second Malady incident to Youth; that Eagle-soaring passion, Ambition. THose who are affected to this, use to say with Tiridates in Tacitus: Sua retinere privatae domus, AMBITION de alienis certare regia laus● est. These can never confine themselves to their own, Nullus enim magni sceleris labour— juven. Sa●. 14. raising their hopes above possibility: but are building airy castles, of purpose to confront greatness. We shall never hear them talk of any subject save sovereignty or dominion. One termed an Empire, a monstrous and untamed beast; and so may this Passion be well defined: whose aim is only to purchase glory, albeit her aims be planted on indirectest terms. We read how Pausanias killed Philip of Macedon only for fame or vainglory: so did Herostratus burn the Temple of Diana at Ephesus, with this resolution; because he could not by any act of renown eternize his memory, he would gain him fame, though by an act of infamy. How violent these Ambitious heads are, and have been ever, there is scarce any State which hath not felt: where civil wars have menaced no less danger to the State, than foreign powers; private factions, than open hostility. In some likewise, so deep impression hath Ambition wrought, as the Envy which they conceive at others greatness, deprives them of all rest: This appeared in Themistocles, who walked in the Nighttime in the open street, because he could not sleep: The cause whereof, when some men did inquire, he answered, that the triumph of Miltiades would not suffer him to take his rest. The like height of Ambition showed Alexander, Tuscul. Quaest lib. 4. weeping bitterly to see his father win so fast before him, fearing nothing should remain for him to conquer. Now, how naturally Youth is affected to this illimited motion, may be observed even in usual games; where Youth, rather than he will endure the foil, exposeth himself to all encounters. It is glory which he aims at, and before he lose it, he will hazard himself for it. His Prize is his praise: he values nothing more than to get him a name, which may brute his renown, and gain him respect with his Dearest. His disquiet (for what is Ambition, but a Distraction of the mind?) is to affect that best, which doth afflict him most. Augustus had broken sleeps, and used to send for some to pass the Night away, in telling tales, or holding him with talk. See the misery of Ambitious spirits, whose ends are without end, limiting their desires to no other period than sole sovereignty. Their airy thoughts (like Icarus wings) are ever mounting, till the Sun, which they threatened, dissolve them. Inferior tasks they as much sleight, as Eagles do Flies: tolluntur in altum, Vt lapsu graviore ruant— they love not to stoop to baseness, when many times lowest fortunes entertain them with no less discontent, than despair can force them to. And in their lowest ebb, when Hope forsakes them, and their nearest (like Tiberius' friends) shrink from them, and no comfort remains, save expectance and sufferance of all extremities; you shall hear them upraid Prince or State, relating (with much vainglory) what dangers they have undergone for them. Instance whereof, even in these latter times, might be produced; as in that Ambitious Frenchman, the brave Byron, who seeing no way but one, burst out into these violent extremes; I have received three & thirty wounds of my body, to preserve it for him, and for my reward, he takes my head from my shoulders: He now quencheth the torch in my blood after he hath used it. This is the condition of high spirits, whose aims were transcendent, to close up their tragical Scene with a vainglorious boast of what they have done: little considering, how their Country might lawfully exact and expect as much as was in them to perform, and they still debrours to her, because they had their being from her. Yet see (though sometimes they stand upon terms of resolution, desiring to die standing;) when the sentence of death is pronounced, and all future hope extinguished, they will be (as that great Frenchman was) Supple as a glove: presenting their heads as willingly to the sword, as Agis did his unto the halter. It is strange to note, how these men walk in clouds, imagining themselves most secure, when imminency of peril assures them nothing less. The reason whereof may seem to be this; they flatter themselves in their vanity, as Pygmalion with his Image, or Narcissus with his Shadow; reposing more confidence in their own valour, and the aid, which (Themistocles or Pausanias-like) they contract abroad, linking and uniting themselves with foreign powers, than on all the information of friends, or the persuasions of a loyal and uncorrupted heart. Hen. the fourth whose Name deserves to be enrouled among the ancient Worthies. But these (as that Heroic Prince noted) must bow or break: be their persons never so hopeful, or directions behooveful to the State, they must be kerbed, or the State endangered. Their properties is ever to swim in troubled waters: nor can they endure to be mated. Though their aims be to perpetuate their greatness, yet those Beasts, which are bred about the River Hypanis, and live but one day, may ofttimes compare with them for continuance: whence the Poet saith excellently, Aristot. out of his own observation; Much have I seen, yet seldom seen I have, Ambition go gray-headed to his grave. There is nothing which the Ambitious man hates so much as a corrival; he hopes to possess all, and without a sharer. But so indirect are his plots, and so insuccessive their end, as he finds to his great grief, that the promise of security had no firm foundation to ground on: nor his attempts that issue they expected. Now Gentlemen, you, whose better parts aim at more glorious ends, so confine your desires to an equal mean, that mounting too high bring you not to an irreparable fall. We are borne indeed (as that divine Father saith) to be Eagles, and not jays; to fly aloft, and not to seek our food on the ground: Chrysost. in 2. Corinth. but our Eagle-eyes are to be fixed on the Sun of righteousness, not on temporal preferments. We are to soar to the Tower from whence cometh our help. For it is not lifting up a man's self God likes, but lifting up of the spirit in prayer. Here are wings for flying, without fear of falling: for other aims, they are but as feathers in the air; they delude us, howsoever they seem to secure us. But I hear some young Gentleman object, that it is a brave thing to be observed in the eye of the world; to have our persons admired, ourselves in public resorts noted, yea our Names dispersed! Indeed I grant; He who consists on nothing more than shows, Thinks it is brave to hear, Lo there be goes! But such, whose solid understandings have instructed them in higher studies, as much disvalue popular opinion, or the Corckie conceits of the vulgar, as true Nobility scorns to converse with any thing unworthy itself. Their greatness hath correspondence with goodness: for esteem of the world, as in respect of their own worth they deserve it, so in contempt of all outward glory they disvalue it. Come then (ye nobly affected Gentlemen; Quantumcunque te dejeceris, bumilior non eris Christo. Hier. ) would ye be heirs of honour, and highly reputed by the Highest? Resemble the Nature of the Highest: who humbled himself in the form of man, to restore miserable man; vilifying himself, to make man like himself. It is not, believe it, to shine in grace or esteem of the Court, which can ennoble you: this glory is like glass, Plutarch. bright but brittle; and Courtiers (saith one) are like Counters, which sometime in account go for a thousand pound, and presently before the Count be past, but for a single penny. It is more glory to be in the Courts of the Lord, to purchase esteem with him, whose judgement never errs, and whose countenance never altars. It is reported by Comines in his French Annals, that Charles, whom he then served, was of this disposition, that he would make assay of the greatest matters, Semper hiat, semper tenuem qua vescitur auram reciprocavit Chamaeleon. Et mutat fasiem varios sumit que colores, praeter rubrum & candidum. Alciat. revolving in his mind how he might compass them: yea perchance (saith he) assays far above the strength of man. See the picture of an Ambitious spirit, loving ever to be interessed in affairs of greatest difficulty. Caemelion-like on subtle air he feeds, And vies in colours with the chequered meeds. Let no such conceits transport you, lest repentance find you. It is safer choosing the Middle-path, than by walking or tracing uncouth ways, to stray in your journey. More have fallen by presumption, than distrust of their own strength. And reason good; for such who dare not rely on themselves, give way to others direction; whereas too much confidence, or self-opinionate boldness will rather choose to err, and consequently to fall, than submit themselves to others judgement. Of this opinion seemed Velleius the Epicurean to be, Nil tam metuens, quam ne dubitare aligua de re videretur. of whom it is said; that in confidence of himself he was so far from fear, as he seemed not to doubt of any thing. A modest or shamefast fear becomes Youth better: which indeed ever attends the best or affablest natures. Such will attempt nothing without advice, nor assay aught without direction: so as their ways are secured from many perils, which attend on inconsiderate Youth. My conclusion of this point shall be in a word; that neither the rich man is to glory in his riches, the wise man in his wisdom, nor the strong man in his strength: for should man consider the weakness and many infirmities whereto he is hourly subject, he would find innumerable things to move him to sorrowing, but few or none to glory in. Again, if he should reflect to the consideration of his Dissolution, which, that it shall be, is most certain, but when it shall be, most uncertain: he would be forced to stand upon his guard with that continual fear, as there would be no empty place left in him for pride. This day one proud, as prouder none, May lie in earth ere day be gone. What confidence is there to be reposed in so weak a foundation; where to remain ever is impossible, Petrarch. de remed. utri●s. sort. but quickly to remove, most probable? Then (to use Petrarches words) be not afraid though the house, the Body be shaken, so the Soul, the guest of the Body, fare well: for weakening of the one addeth for most part strength to the other. And so I come to the last passion or perturbation incident to Youth. REVENGE. REvenge is an intended resolve, arising from a conceived distaste, either justly or unjustly grounded. This Revenge is ever violentest in hot bloods, who stand so much upon terms of reputation, as rather than they will pocket up the least indignity, they willingly oppose themselves to extremest hazard. Now this unbounded fury may seem to have a twofold relation; either as it is proper and personal, or popular and impersonal. Revenge proper or personal, ariseth from a peculiar distaste or offence done or offered to our own person; which indeed hath ever the deepest impression: Which may be instanced in Menelaus and Paris; where the honour of a Nuptial bed, the Law of Hospitality, the processed league of Amity, were jointly infringed: Or in Antony and Octavius, whose intestine hate grew to that height, as Antony's Angel was afraid of Octavius Angel. Appian. Alex. Which hatred, as it was fed and increased by Fulvia, so was it allayed and tempered by Octavia; though in the end it grew irreconciliable; ending in blood, as it begun with lust. Revenge popular or impersonal, proceedeth extrinsecally, as from factions in families, or some ancient grudge hereditarily descending, betwixt House and House, or Nation and Nation. When Annibal was a child, and at his father's commandment, he was brought into the place where he made sacrifice; and laying his hand upon the Altar, swore, that so soon as he had any rule in the Commonwealth, he would be a processed enemy to the Romans. Whence may be observed, how the conceit of an injury or offence received, worketh such impression in that State or Kingdom where the injury is offered, as Hate lives, and survives the life of many ages, crying out with those incensed greeks; Hom in Iliad. & Polyb. apud Curionem. lib. 3. The time will come when mighty Troy must fall, Where Priam's race must be extinguished all. But we are principally to discourse of the former Branch, to wit, of proper or personal Revenge: wherein we shall observe sundry Occurrents right worthy our serious consideration. Facilè redimunt qui sanguine famam. Martial Epig. That term (as I said before) usually called Reputation, hath brought much generous blood to effusion: especially amongst such, Qui magis sunt soliciti vani nominis, quam propriae salutis: Prising vainglory above safety, esteem of valour above security of person. And amongst these, — Impium est mortis statum praecipere tempus. may I truly rank our Martial Duelists, who many times upon a Tavern quarrel are brought to shed their dearest blood, which might have been employed better in defence of their Country, or resistance of proud Infidels. And what is it which moves them to these extremes; but (as they seem to pretend) their Reputation is engaged, their opinion in the eye of the world called in question, if they should sit down with such apparent disgrace? But shall I answer them? The opinion of their valour indeed is brought in question; but by whom? not by men of equal temper, or maturer judgement, who measure their censures, not by the Last of rash opinion, but just consideration. For these cannot imagine how Reputation should be brought in question, by any indiscreet crime uttered over a pot, whereof perchance the Speaker is ignorant, at lest what it meant: Galesti lepores. Pet. Mar. But of these distempered Roisters, whose only judgement consists in taking offence, and valour in making a flourish; of these I have seen One in the folly of my Youth, but could not rightly observe till my riper age: whose braving condition (having some young Gooselin to work on) would have made you confident of his valour: instancing what dangerous exploits he had attempted and achieved, what single fields he had pitched, and how bravely he came off: yet on my conscience, the Battle of the Pyg●●ies might have equalled his, both for truth and resolution. Yet I have noted such as these, to be the bellows which blow the fire of all uncivil quarrels; suggesting to young Gentlemen (whose want of experience makes them too credolous) matter of Revenge: by aggravating each circumstance to enrage their hot blood the more. Some others there are of this band, which I have like wise observed: and they are taken for grave Censors or Moderators, if any difference occur amongst Young Gentlemen. And these have been Men in their time, (at least accounted so) but now their fortunes falling to an ebb, having drawn out their time in expense above their means, they are enforced (and well it were if Misery forced them not to worse) to erect a Sense, whereto the Roarers make recourse, as to their Rendezvous: And hereto also resorts the raw and unseasoned Youth, whose late-fallen patrimony makes him purchase acquaintance at what rate soever; glorying much to be esteemed one of the fraternity. And he must now keep his Quarter, maintain his prodigal rout with what his Parsimonious father long carked for; The proper postures of a complete Roarer. prepare his Reresuppers, and all this, to get him a little knowledge in the Art of roaring. And by this time, you may suppose him to have attained to some degree, Est Venus in vinis, vinis Venus illita venis. Sint proculà men●is vina venus que meis. so as he can look big, erect his Mouchatoes, stamp and stare, and call the Drawer Rogue, drink to his Venus in a Venice-glass, and to moralise her Sex, throws it over his head and breaks it. But for all this, he hath not fully learned his postures: for upon discourse of valour, he hath discovered his Cowardice; and this gives occasion to one of his Cumrades to triumph o'er his weakness. Who entering upon terms of Reputation, and finding himself wronged, he would gladly wipe off all aspersions, and gain him opinion in the eye of the world: but recalling to mind, the dangers incident to Quarrels, he thinks it best to repair to that Grand Moderator (whose long experience hath made his opinion authentic) to receive satisfaction, whether he may put up the injury offered him, without touch of disgrace. Now he must be feed for his opinion, (as if he were some grave legal professor:) which done, his reply must tend to the definition of a wrong, and what the law of valour holds for satisfaction in actions of that nature. Again, (for still he works on this Young-gallants weakness) how the world esteems his Opponent to be a brave spark; one whose spirit cannot be daunted, nor fury appea●ed with less than blood: drawing him in the end by some Rhetorical persuasion (as nothing more smooth than the oily tongue of an insinuating foist) to some base composition, whereof he and his complices are made equal sharers. Now Gentlemen, I could likewise produce certain woeful occurrents, which have befallen some of your rank and quality, and that within these few years, by consorting with such Grand Cutter's: who pressing them to offence, could not endure such affronts, but with resolution (which ever attends a generous spirit) encountering them, have been utterly overthrown, either in doing or suffering. But you will ask me, how should this be prevented? Can any Gentleman suffer with patience his Reputation to be brought in question? Can he endure to be challenged in a public place, and by that means incur the opinion of Coward? Can he put up disgrace without observance, or observing it, not revenge it, when his very Honour (the vital blood of a Gentleman) is impeached? Hear me, whosoever he be that frameth these Objections! I am not ignorant how many unjust and immerited aspersions shall be thrown upon men of eminent'st desert, by such, whose tongues are ever steeped in calumny: But who are these, save such as the glory of Greece (the everliving Homer) displayeth in the contemptuous person of Thersites; Hom. in Odyss. whose character was, More deformed in mind than body? Their infamous and serpentine tongues enured to detraction, deserve no other Revenge, (next legal punishment) save avoiding their company, and bruting their baseness in all Societies, where their names are known, to caution others of them. I am spoken evil of (saith Seneca) but the evil speak it: Seneca ad Gaelion. de remed. fortuit. I should be moved, if M. Cato, if wise Lelius, or the two Scipio's should speak this of me; but it is praise for me, to have the evil displeased with me. It is true; for as no imputation can truly be said to stain a pure or undefiled soul, whose inward sincerity (like a brazen Wall) beats back all darts of envy or calumny; so it is not in the power of the evil to detract from the glory of the good: for what then should remain secure from aspersion of the vicious? But I imagine, you will reply; it is not only the report or scandal of these men of uncurbed tongues, (for so Pindarus terms them) but of such, whose eminent esteem in the world, gives approbation to what they speak, which awakes my Revenge. If they be as you term them, Men of eminent esteem, and that esteem by merit purchased, (for all other estimation I exclude it:) I need little doubt, but the distaste which you conceive against them, hath proceeded in some part from yourself; and that upon maturer consideration, you should find your own bosom guilty to be the cause of these aspersions. If otherwise it happen, (as I grant it may) that upon private surmises, or suggestions derived from some factious heads, these men of more eminent note and esteem have brought your name in question, because (as they were informed) you formerly aspersed a blemish upon their Honour: I would not have you to err so far from your own judgement, as without further discussing the cause, to fall into desperate extremes: for were it not much better for you to sift the cause, how you both are abused, whereby that base suggestour might be duly censured, and your wrongs mutually redressed, than to vow Revenge ere an injury be offered? Yes Sir, believe it, much better and safer, and in the opinion of discreet men, wiser: howsoever our harebrained Gallant, whose property is to act before he resolve, esteem it a derogation to expostulate on terms of disgrace, but to publish war ere the league be broken. We account him who can bear the most, to be the strongest; yet esteem we him who can bear injuries most, to be the weakest; so ill disposed is man's temper, as for an opinion of Reputation, he will incur apparent error. Now there is another Revenge, which proceedeth from a nature far more inglorious than the former. And that is, when for some little distaste conceived against our inferior, (even in worldly respects) we labour his undoing: yea many times, because he stands too resolutely for right, we threaten his ruin: But true shall we find it: As the high do use the low, Quicquid ● vobis minor exti●escet, Major hoc vobis Dominas minatur, Horat. 1 King. 21.3, 11. God will use the highest so. And this might appear in poor Naboth, who because he would not give the Inheritance of his Fathers, his Vine-yard, he must be stoned. But of this Revenge I am not to insist: for this is an evil more properly inherent to our rich oppressors, who grind the face of the poor, and raise them an house to their seldom thriving Heirs out of others ruin. Only my wish shall be, that their dwelling may be with Owls and Ostriches in the wilderness, and not in the flowery borders of this Island, lest she be forced to vie sighs for their sins. I might now in this Subject of Revenge, enlarge my discourse by speaking of Anger, from whence Revenge may seem to receive her original being: which Anger the Poet terms a short fury: Anger is madness, and as strong In force, Horat. lib. 1. epist. 2. but not in course so long. For what differs an angry man from a madman, save only in this; his violence of passion continues not so long: for the time it is as vehement and as violent. Excellent therefore was that precept of Moderation given and observed by that renowned Emperor Theodosius, drawn (as may appear in the like example of Augustus) from a former pattern: of whom it is written, that he would never in his anger proceed to Revenge, or so much as show any argument of distaste, till he had repeated over the four and twenty Greek letters. But to conclude this last Branch, my exhortation to all young Gentlemen shall be, whose high spirits cannot endure affronts, that they would labour to expostulate with passion; Basil. Homide Ira. Greg. Mor. l. 5. cap 32. Ephes. 2.3. Rom. 12.19. jam. 1.20. Isay 57: 16. Nah. 1.2, 3. Numb. 14.18. jam. 1.19. Prov. 14.29. ● Cor. 13.5. Prov. 22.24. Eccl. 8.15.16. Prov. 15.1.18. Ephes. 4.26.27. which if once protracted, will be sooner tempered, meditating also of these divine places of Scripture: which receipts are indeed most powerful and effectual to allay this Passion. We that are by nature children of wrath, aught to give place unto wrath. For the wrath of man doth not accomplish the righteousness of God. Yea, we ought to imitate God, which if we will do, we must not continue in wrath, knowing, God will not contend, nor be wroth for ever. He is slow to anger. Yea, every man ought to be slow to wrath: For it is wisdom. If we will join in the true Lover's knot, we must not be angry, for, true Love is not provoked to anger. And if we will prevent the effect, we are to avoid the occasion; therefore are we taught to have no familiarity, neither strive with an angry man. Would we appease anger? we must do it by meekness. Lastly, may we be angry? Yes, but how? Be angry, but sin not. Let not the Sun go down upon your wrath. Neither give place to the Devil. Thus have we run over all those predominant humours, which bear most sway in distempered Youth. Physic precribed, and receipts applied to cure these maladies in Youth. Let us now, according to our former purpose proceed in applying certain Receipts to cure these dangerous Maladies. Which briefly (to avoid all curious divisions) may be reduced to these two: Active and Contemplative. The one in exercising and performing the offices of our Calling: The other in practising works of piety, exercises of Devotion, Meditation, Contemplation. For the former, to wit, Active, every action hath two handles (to use the Philosopher's words; Omnis actio duas habet ansas. ) the one whereof consists in plotting or contriving; the other in effecting. Without the former, the latter is precipitate; and without the latter, the former is frustrate: both concurring, the Action becomes absolute. But to speak generally of Action, as it is the represser, so Idleness is the producer of all vice. Whence came that ancient Edict amongst the Romans, mentioned by Cicero; that no Roman should go thorough the streets of the City, In lib. de leg. unless he carried with him the badge of that Trade whereby he lived. Insomuch that Marcus Aurelius speaking of the diligence of the Romans writeth; That all of them followed their labour. Now Gentlemen, I persuade myself, you will most of you object and say with the displaced Steward in the Gospel, Luke 16. 3. We cannot dig: (and I could wish that many of our eminent ones, would add unto it, and to beg we are ashamed.) It is true indeed; I know your Breeding hath been otherwise: but admit you cannot dig, do ye infer hence that ye are exempted from all labour? In no case are you so to argue. There are other Tasks, other employments besides Manual and Mechanic labours, which require your furtherance. And these are Foreign or Domestical: Foreign, as to benefit your Country by rare Discoveries, re-conveying the rich freight of knowledge (by conference with foreign Nations) to your Native soil: What employments deserve entertainment from a Gentleman. or by personal adventure, to stand resolutely in defence of the Faith, against those professed enemies of Christendom, the Turks; whose fury and hostile cruelty, the Eastern parts (to our great grief be it spoken) have already woefully sustained. Domestical; as in studying the practice of Laws, or other humane studies; in labouring to determine differences betwixt party and party; in chastising and due censuring, (as far as their callings give leave) of such factions or litigious Sectists, as either in Church or Commonweal disturb the quiet of the Realm, and distract the State with frivolous or fruitless ambiguities. Here are Labours fit to entertain Gentlemen, and nought derogating from men of eminentest descent or quality. For in Actions of this nature have the best and most renowned States and Princes in Christ●ndome been trained and exercised: glorying no less in the happy and successive management thereof, than in subduing the potentest and flourishing'st Kingdoms. Secondly, for the Contemplative, which participates more of the mind: I could wish all Gentlemen (as they claim a prerogative in height of blood) so to erect their Contemplations above the Sphere of these lower and inferior Mortals, whose cogitations pressed down with rubbish and refuse of earthly preferments, cannot distinguish light from darkness: that they may imagine (as in truth they ought) that whatsoever is fought besides God, Blos: may possess the mind, but cannot satisfy it. Now, of all exercises of Devotion, I must principally commend Prayer; being (as one excellently noteth) to be numbered amongst the chiefest and choicest works of Charity. For by Prayer are digged forth those treasures, which faith beholdeth in the Gospel: Christ. lib. de orand. Deo. being Goas Sacrifice, Man's Solace, and the Devil's scourge. For the time & place of Prayer, I will not insist much of it; howsoever, divers more curiously than profitably, precisely than wisely, have quarrelled about the place: excluding withal, some places as unfit for Prayer. But in a word, for the place of Prayer or Devotion, this shall be my conclusion; as there is no place exempted from tempting, so there is no place exempted from praying: and for the time, as we are continually assaulted, so are we exhorted to pray continually, Luke 21.36. Rom. 12.11, 12. Eph. 6.18, 19 Col. 4.2, 3. Psal. 25.7. Eccl. 12.1. that we may be the better provided to resist those temptations which are usually suggested. Amongst those many devout and divine Prayers commended to Youth, none more needful or effectual than that of the Psalmist; Remember not the sins of my youth. Nor any Memorial more powerful, than that of the Preacher; Remember thy Creator in the days of thy youth. For by the Latter are we put in mind of him, whose grace is to preserve us from sin; and by the Former to call on him, whose mercy it is to forgive sin. Now Gentlemen, have I composed and perfected what I purposed touching my first Observance, entitled Youth. Wherein I have enlarged myself so much the more for two principal respects: The One, lest by being unprovided you should fly away naked (as the youngman in the Gospel) wanting sufficient instruction to inform your weaker understandings: which moved me to amplify each particular Subject with variety of Moral reading; because I knew how such discourse would relish more pleasantly to a Youngman's palate, than graver or more serious matter. The other, lest wanting a convenient foundation to work on, the main building might shrink. Now, this I purposely framed for the Basis or groundwork, the rest as Stories, which are made to beautify the foundation: for in these Observances ensuing I intent brevity, yet with such perspicuity, as the Gentleman to whom I write, may the better understand himself, and direct his courses to that Bend of Honour whereto all generous actions are directed. THE ENGLISH GENTLEMAN. Argument. Of the diversity of Dispositions; The Disposition is not to be forced; What Disposition is most generous. DISPOSITION. HOw different the Dispositions of men be, Observ. 2. our usual converse & commerce with men may sufficiently instruct us. Yea even in Youth, where the first Seeds of inclination are sown, we shall observe such Diversity, as the grasse-piles of the earth may scarce vie with them for variety, The diversity of Dispositions. the stars or sands for multiplicity. Where you shall note some Youths of such well-affected or tempered Dispositions, as they show undoubted arguments of future good: and these are such, whose Natures are rather to be cherished than chastised, cockered than kerbed: for the least distaste which their guardian or Tutor can show, works such impression in them, as they could willingly choose rather to suffer his correction than his distaste. Others there be, whose perverse and refractory Natures are not to be dealt with all upon equal terms: and these are the very Antipodes to those well-tempered Dispositions which we spoke of before: for they ever walk in a contrary path, directly opposite to such, whose native Affability gains them love by an inbred courtesy. These (Diogenes-like) are ever entering the Temple, when others go forth; Exeunti intro, miranti exeo. vid. Laert. or repairing to the Market, when others come from it. And these must taste of sharper censure▪ for Lenity will not prevail, therefore rigour must. The like may be observed even in their Dispositions to Learning: where we shall find Some apt enough to get, and as apt to forget: Others more solid; though for the present ●low, yet more retentive. And these, as with hardness they get it, so hardly will they lose it; for their difficulty in gaining, is supplied by a facility in retaining. Likewise, as the principal works or faculties of our understanding be three; first to Discourse; secondly, to Distinguish; thirdly, to Choose: we shall also observe an admirbale difference in these, in respect of their distinct Qualities. Where we shall find one as apt to discourse, as unable to distinguish or choose; and such an one hath all his judgement in his tongue. Another of greater depth and maturer judgement than the former, more able to distinguish or choose, than apt to discourse: for though he want facility of utterance (which want is generally supplied by more excellent gifts) yet so quick and subtle is the piercing eye of his judgement, as he is no less prompt in conceiving, than slow in uttering. Now to treat of the Dispositions of men's minds; it is strange to see what difference appears in them, (even by natural and infusive motion.) Rome brought forth the Piso's for frugality, the Metelli for piety, the Appij for austerity, the Manlij for affability, the Lelij for wisdom, and the Publicolae for courtesy. Which conditions appeared so lineally in their Successors, as they seemed representers of their Ancestors natures, as well as features. Yet what reason can be given touching these distinct affections, save those prime seeds sown in them by Nature, which produce not only these Dispositions in themselves, but dilate or propagate their effects in others, to wit, those in whom they have stamped a likeness both of image and condition. A probable judgement of our Dispositions, drawn from the delights we affect, or company we frequent. Now to collect or gather, how men are affected, there is no course more direct, or in itself less erring, than to observe what delights they affect, or what company they frequent. Augustus' being at a combat, discerned the inclinations of his two daughters, julia and Livia, by the company which frequented them: for grave Senators talk with Livia, but riotous persons with julia. Truth is, we shall ever see persons of like condition love to consort together; for their quality or equality rather of Disposition moves a desire of familiarity one with another. Likewise for delights, we shall ever observe such, whose lighter Dispositions affect Liberty, to be frequenters of public meetings, Agents in May-games, professed lovers of all sensual pleasures. That Roman Courtesan Sempronia, was noted for her singing, Sallust. sporting and dancing, wherein she laboured to show more art than became a modest woman, Passion the best discoverer of our Disposition. with other motives of Licentiousness. But in my opinion, there is no one means to sift out the Disposition of man better, than by noting how he bears himself in passion, which is of that violence, as many times it discovers him though his purpose was to walk never so covertly from the eye of popular observance. Should we have recourse to the lives of sundry Tyrants, whose outward appearance or semblance promised much goodness: we might find sufficient matter to confirm this argument. Some whereof (as Tiberius) so commonly carried and covered their plots, as none could dive into their thoughts, pretending ever most smoothness, Discovery of Dispositions in distempers. when they intended a tempest. Yet if at any time (as it befell many times) their Spirits became nettled or incensed; so far did passion transport them, as they apparently expressed their Natures, without further Character. Other discoveries may be made, and those are the manifestest of all, Non habet ulterius quod nostris potibus addat Posteritas— how men are affected or disposed when they are lest themselves: and this is (with grief I speak it, for too highly doth Albion labour of it) when Man, losing indeed that Name, at least his Nature, becomes estranged from the use of reason, Habebitur a●iquando ●br●etatt ho●or, & platimum meri cepisse, virtus erit. Sen. Non invenit ●rimen, etiam viri fortis accipit nomen, tantò nequior, quantò sub po●●ulo invi●●●er Aug. de verb. Apost. Ser. 4. by drowning his understanding with drunkenness. In high Germany, the parents of such children as should be married, will see those which should be their sons in law to be drunk before them, to see what Disposition they are of, before they marry their children unto them. For they imagine, if they be subject to any especial vice, they will then discover it, having no Lock to keep it secret. Yet in this there are different humours which reign and rage according to the Disposition of the person subject unto it: as we shall see one lumpish without all conceit; another jocund and merry, apt for any conceit: one weeping, as if some disastrous fortune had befallen him: another laughing, as if some merry Scene were presented him. We read of two distinct conditions in Philip & Alexander, when they were in drink, for the one showed his rage and fury towards his foes, the other to his friends: the one whereof participaes of more true generous spirit than the other. For as nothing can be imagined more ignoble, than to triumph over our friend; so nothing relisheth of more resolution, than to show our spirit (so it be upon equal terms, and without braving) upon our Enemy. But would you indeed see the Disposition of Man truly discovered, and the veil which kept him from sight, clear taken away? Then come to him when he is advanced to place of honour or esteem; (for Pr●motions declare what men be:) and there you shall find him portrayed to life. Promotion held ever man's best Anatomy Lecture. Galba was esteemed in the opinion of all, fit to govern till he did govern. Many have an excellent gift of concealing and shadowing (which giveth grace to any picture) so long as they are obscure and private: but bring them to a place of more eminent note, and give a lustre to their obscurity, you shall view them as perfectly, as if their Bodies were transparent, or windows were in their bosoms. Here you shall see One unmeasurably haughty, scorning to converse with these Groundlins' (for so it pleases him to term his inferiors) and bearing such a state, as if he were altered no less in person than place. Another, not so proud as he is covetous: for no passion (as a learned Schooleman affirmeth) is better known unto us than the coveting or desiring passion, Thom. in 12. quaest. 26. c. 1. which he calls Concupiscible: and such an one makes all his inferiors his Sponges; and Ostridge-like can digest all metals. Another sort there are, whose well-tempered natures have brought them to that perfection, as the state which they presently enjoy makes them no more proud than the loss of that they possess would cast them down. Op●andaea est amissio honoris, quae facit nos humilicres. These (Camillus-like) are neither with the opinion of Honour too highly erected, nor with the conceit of Affliction too much dejected. As their conceits are not heightened by possessing it, so they lose nothing of their own proper height by foregoing it. These are so evenly poized, so nobly tempered, as their opinion is not grounded on Title, nor their glory on popular esteem: they are known to themselves, and that knowledge hath instructed them so well in the vanity of Earth, as their thoughts have taken flight, vowing not to rest till they approach heaven. Pompey being cumbered with his Honour, exclaimed to see Sylla's cruelty, being ignorant after what sort to behave himself in the dignity he had; and cried out, O peril and danger never like to have end! Such is the nature of Noble spirits, Nihil difficilius est quam bene imperare. Diocles. Dict. as they admire not so much the dignity of the place to which they are advanced, as they consider the burden which is on them imposed; labouring rather how to behave themselves in their place, than arrogate glory to themselves, by reason of their place. Neither are these sundry Dispositions naturally ingraffed in men, merely produced from themselves, as the affections or Dispositions of our minds do follow the temperature of our bodies; where the Melancholy produceth such, the Choleric, Phlegmatic, and Sanguine such and such, according to Humours predominant in that body, whence these affections are derived: but I say, these participate also of the Clime wherein we are. For otherwise, how should our Observations appear good, which we usually collect in the Survey of other Countries; noting certain vices to be most entertained in some especial Provinces? L. Flor. lib. 3 cap. 6. As Pride among the Babylonians, Envy among the jews, Anger among the Thebans, Covetousness among the Tyrians, Gluttony among the Sidonians, Piracy among the Cilicians, and Sorcery among the Egyptians, to whom Caesar gave great attention, as Alexander was delighted in the brahmin's. So as I say, our Dispositions how different or consonant soever, do not only partake of us, but even of the Air or temperature of Soil which bred us. Thus we see what Diversity of Dispositions there is, and how diversely they are affected: Let us now take a view of the Disposition itself, whether it may be forced or no, from what it naturally affecteth. The Disposition is not to be forced. THe Philosopher saith, that the Disposition may be removed, but hardly the Habit. But I say those first Seeds of Disposition, as they are Primitives, can hardly be made Privatives: being so inherent in the Subject, as they may be moved, Objection. but not removed. Not removed (objectest thou!) why? disposition can be of no stronger reluctance than Nature; & we see how much she may be altered, yea, clear removed from what she formerly appeared. For do we not (in the view of humane frailty) observe how many excellent wits drained from the very Quintessence of Nature, as apt in apprehending as expressing a conceit, strangely darkened or dulled, as if they had been steeped in some Lethaean slumber? Nay do we not (in this round Circumference of man) note divers honest and sincere Dispositions, whose gain seemed to be godliness, and whose glory the profession of a good Conscience, wonderfully altered, becoming so corrupted by the vain pomp or trifling trash of the world, as they prefer the puddle before the pearl, forsaking Christ for the world? Do we not see how uprightly some men have borne themselves all their time without stain or blemish: Sancti juvenes, Satanici Senes. being all their Youth virtuously affected, all their Middle-age charitably disposed, yet in their Old-age miserably depraved? Again, do we not behold, how many women, whose virgin-modesty and Nuptiall-continency promised much glory to their age; even then, when the flower of Beauty seemed bloomelesse, so as their very age might make them blameless, when their skin was sere, and their flesh sapless, their breath earthy, and their mouth toothless; then, even than fell these unwieldy Beldames to embrace folly, promising longer continuance to Pleasure, than they could by all likelihood unto Nature? Now tell me how happened this? Were not these at the first virtuously affected; if Disposition than could not be forced, how came they altered? All these rivers of Objections I can dry up with one beam, darting from the reflex of Nature. Hieron. cont. Lucif. Thou producest divers instances to confirm this assertion, That Dispositions are to be forced from what they were naturally affected unto. Resolution. Whereto I answer, That Dispositions in some are resembled (and not improperly) unto a Beam clothed or shadowed with a cloud; which (as we see) showeth his light sometimes sooner, sometimes later: Or (as by a more proper Allusion may seem illustrated) may be resembled to the first * Vt●a ●●●●nibus nascuntur ●●geni●a, ita ab exiguis 〈◊〉 ingenia. Quibus●um evenit, ut cum primis floribus arboru●a; Hi enim citi●● acc●lerius, illi autem felicius ac●uberius gemmare so●ent & germinare Suet. Tran. in vit. Ner. Flourish in trees, which according to the nature or quality of the internal pith, from whence life is diffused to the Branches, send forth their blooms and blossoms sooner or later. True it is you object, that to the outward appearance, such men showed arguments of good Dispositions, for they were esteemed men of approved Sanctity, making Conscience of what they did, and walking blameless and unreprovable before all men: but what collect you hence? That their Dispositions were sincerely good or pure, if Society had not depraved them! No, this induction will not hold: it is the Evening crownes the day. What could be imagined better, or more royally promising, than Nero's Quinquennium? What excellent tokens of future goodness? What apparent testimonies of a virtuous government? What infallible grounds of princely policy, mixed with notable precepts of piety? Yet who knows not, how all the vices of his Ancestors put together, seemed by a lineal descent to be transferred on him: being the Pattern and Patron of all cruelty, the Author and Actor of all villainy, the plotter and practiser of all impiety: so as, if all the titles of cruelty were lost, they might be found in this Tyrant. How then do you say, that his Disposition was naturally good, but became afterwards depraved, and corrupted? No, rather join with me and say, that howsoever his Disposition seemed good during those five years, wherein he dissembled with virtue, and concealed those many vices which he professed and possessed afterwards: yet indeed he was the same though not in show, yet in heart. Only now the Cloud being dispersed, his tyrannous and inhuman nature became more discovered, acting that in public, which he had long before plotted in private. For howsoever our Dispositions may seem forced, from what they naturally or originally were; it is but a Deception, they remain still the same, though advice and assistance may sometimes prevail so much with them, as for the time they seem to surcease and discontinue from their former bent; but returning afresh, they will Antaeus-like, redouble their strength and become more furious. For resolve me, and show what may be the effectuallest or powerfullest means to remove Disposition, or alter Man most from what he may seem naturally inclined unto. Can Honour? No; for that man, whose inclination is subject to change for any exterior Title, is not to be ranked amongst these generous spirits, with whom I am only here to converse. For these admire Titles, and assume a kind of affected Majesty, to make their persons more observed. But tell me, what are these whom Honour hath thus transported, Stupent in ●itulis & imaginibus. expressing state with winks and nods, as if the whole posture of State consisted in gesture, but mere Popinjays, who glory more in the painting or varnish of Honour, than the true substance of it? And to speak truth (as I had never fortune to dote much on an immerited Title, nor gloze with counterfeit greatness) their Dispositions howsoever they seem to the vulgar eye changed, they are nothing so: for their inclinations were ever arrogantly affected, so as they no sooner became great, Bene est cui Deus obtulit, Par●a, quod satis est manu. Hor. Od. lib. 3. cap. 24. Eccles. 5.15. than they deblazoned their own thoughts. Can Riches? neither; for such, whose imaginations are erected above earth, scorn to entertain discourse with aught that may make them worse: all in the world being either fumus or funus, a vanity or vexation, as the Preacher saith. These conclude, that no Object less than Heaven, can satisfy their eye; no treasure less than eternity, can answer their desire; no pleasure save what hath concurrence with felicity, can gain them true delight. Now for these earthly Moles, who are ever digging, till their graves be digged; Nugae & delirtum: their Dispositions are of base temper: for they can taste nothing but earthly things. They measure not estate by competence, desiring only so much as may suffice Nature, Quanto magis capit, tanto magis cupit: Quanto magis cupit, tanto minus sapit. but by Abundance; which fares with them as liquor with an Hydropticke man, who, the more he drinks, the more he thirsts: so the more they have, the more they crave; making their desires as endless, as their aims effectless; their hopes as boundless, as their helps fruitless. When their mouths shall be filled with gravel, and corruption shall enter those houses of clay, for which so much Provision was stored, and so small a share in the end contented. Can Acquaintance? No; for if company better me (by an internal grace working secretly, yet effectually in me) my Disposition consented, before such good fruit was produced: if it makes me worse, my Disposition, by consenting to suggestion, induced me that I should be thereto moved. Yea generally, whosoever is well-disposed, will keep no man company, but either in hope to better him, or to be bettered by him: as he, whose inclination is vicious and corrupt, leaveth the company he frequents ever worse than when he found them. For as a * Plutarch. in Moral. troubled fountain yields impure water, so an infected soul vicious actions. Can Travel? No; for, give me a man that hath seen judasses' Lantern at S. Deninis'; the Ephesian Diana in the Lovure; the great Vessel at Heydleberge; the Amphitheatre at Vlysmos; the Stables of the great mogul; or the solemnities of Mecha; yea all the memorable Monuments which the world can afford; or places of delight to content his view; or learned Academies, to instruct and enrich his knowledge; yet are not all these of power to alter the state or quality of his Disposition: whence the sententious Flaccus; Horat. lib. 1. Epist. 11. To pass the Sea some are inclined, To change their air, but not their mind. No; shouldst thou change air, and soil, and all, it were not in thy power to change thyself: yet as soon thyself as thy Disposition, which ever accompanies and attends thee, moving in thee a like or dislike, just as she is affected. What Disposition is most generous. HAving thus proved, that the Disposition is not to be forced; we are now to descend to discourse of the Noblest and most genorous Disposition: which we intent to make known by certain infallible marks, which seldom err in their attendance, being vowed Servants to such as are virtuously affected. The first is Mildness; the second Munificence; the third Fortitude or Stoutness. Mildness. Mildness is a quality so inherent, or more properly individuate to a Gentleman, as his affability will express him, were there no other means to know him. He is so far from contemning the meanest, as his Countenance is not so cheerful, as his Heart compassionate: though the one be no less gracious in promising, than the other generous in his performing. He poizeth the wrongs of the weakest, as if they were his own; and vows their redress as his own. He is none of these surly Sirs, whose aim is to be capped and congeed; for such Gentility tastes too much of the Mushroom. You shall never see one new stepped into Honour, but he expects more observance than an Ancient: for though he be but new come from Mint, he knows how to look big, and show a storm in his Brow. This Meekness admits of Humility to keep her company; in whose sweet familiarity she so much glories, as she cannot enjoy herself without her. And in very deed, there is no Ornament which may add more beauty or true lustre to a Gentleman, than to be humbly minded; being as low in conceit, as he is high in place; with which virtue (like two kind Turtles in one yoke) is Compassion (as I noted before) linked and coupled: Blutrch. in vit. Pomp. which Compassion hath many times appeared in the renownedst and most glorious Princes. When Pompey's head was offered to Caesar, as a most grateful and acceptable Present, it is reported that he washed the Head with tears of princely compassion, and inflicted due punishment upon his Murderers. The like is written of Titus, that Love and Darling of Mankind, in his taking and destroying of jerusalem, using these words; joseph. in Hist. jud. I take God witness, I am not the cause of the destruction of this people, but their sins: mixing his words with tears, and tempering his victorious success with royal moderation. The like is related of Marcus Marcellus, In vit. Marcel. who having won the most flourishing City of Syracuse, stood upon the walls, shedding plenty of tears before he shed any blood. And this Compassion attracts ever unto it a kind of princely Majesty, gaining more love than any other affection. For as proud Spirits, whose boundless ambition keeps them ever afloat, till they sink down for altogether, use to triumph in others miseries, till misery in the end find them out: so these, in a discreet moderation or noble temper, will never assume more glory to themselves for any exploit, how successively or prosperously soever managed. Such is the native Modesty, wherewith they are endued, as their victories are never so numerous or glorious, as to transport them above themselves. Which Modesty surely becometh men of all Degrees, Coming. but especially men of eminent and noble rank, to the end they may understand and acknowledge in every action that there is a God, from whom all things proceed and are derived. Now as there is no glory equal to the command or soveraingtie over our own passions; the conquest whereof makes Man an absolute Commander: so there is no ornament which confers more true or native grace to one ennobled by place or birth, than to put on the Spirit of Meekness, being expressly commanded, and so highly commended of God, as the goodness thereof is confirmed by a promise; The meek shall inherit the earth. Matth. 5▪ 5. Dan. 10.11. 1 King 21.27, 29. So Humility is said to purchase God's favour; for by that one virtue we become to have a resemblance of him, whose glory it was to disesteem all glory to fashion us like unto himself. Now how precious may that exquisite Treasure appear unto us, which confers so much light on us, Deut. 8.16. as by it we are brought to know ourselves: being strangers, as it were, and aliens unto ourselves, till Humility took off the veil, & showed man his Anatomy. So rare was this divine virtue, and so few her professors in former time, especially amongst such whose titles had advanced them above inferior rank, as the place which they held made them forget the mould whereof they were made. An excellent historical demonstration we have hereof, Bede. as we receive it from venerable Bede, who reports it thus: Aidan a religious Bishop, weeping for King Osvinus, and demanded by the King's Chaplain why he wept; I know (said he) that the King shall not live long: for never before this time have I seen an humble King. Which happened accordingly, for he was cruelly murdered by Oswin. But (thanks to him who became humble for us) we have in these declining days, among so many proud Simeons, many humble Joseph's, whose chiefest honour they make it to abase themselves on earth, to add to their compliment of glory in heaven; so much slighting the popular applause of men, as their only aim is to have a sincere and blameless conscience in them, to witness in that judicial day for them. These have not (like those furies of revenge) hearts full of wrath, but with all meekness and long-suffering will rather endure an injury, than inflict too violent revenge, though they have ready power to effect or perform it. It is reported of Thomas Linacres, a learned Englishman, much commended for his sanctity of life, that when he heard it read in the fifth Chapter of S. Matt. Diligite inimicos; Bless them that curse you, etc. he broke forth into these words, O amici, aut haec vera non sunt, aut nos Christiani non sumus! O my friends, either these things are not true, or we are no Christians▪ True it is indeed, that so strangely are some men affected, as they tender revenge equally dear as their own life: their plots are how to circumvent, their trains how to surprise, their whole consultations how to inflict due revenge, where they have already conceived distaste. And these are those Bulls of Basan, who room and roar, and when the prey falleth, they seize on it, and tear it with their teeth. On these men may that of the Poet be truly verified; Nec leges metuunt, sed cedit viribus aequum, Maestaque victrici jura sub ense jacent. They fear no Laws, their wrath gives way to might, And what they plot they act, be't wrong or right. But how far the Disposition of these men may seem removed from the meek and humble affected, whose only glory is to redress wrong, and render right judgement unto all, there is none but may at the first sight apparently discern. For these humble and mildly-affected spirits, stand so firm and irremoveable, Omnia adversa exercitationes putant Seneca. as no adversity can depress them, no prosperity raise them above themselves. For adversities, they account them with that excellent Moral, nothing else than exercises to try them, not to tyre them. And for Prosperities, they receive them as they come; not so much admiring them, as making a profitable use of them; and with a thankful remembrance of divine Bounty, Cyprian. blessing God for them. These are those impregnable rocks (as one aptly compared them) subject to no piercing; those greenen Bays in midst of hoary Winter, never fading; those fresh Springs in the Sandie Desert, never drying. Whose many eminent virtues, as they deserve your imitation, (Gentlemen) so especially their Meekness, being the first mark I took to distinguish true Gentility. Munificence. THe second was Munificence; that is, to be of a bountiful Disposition, openhanded, yet with some necessary caution, as to know what we give, and the worth of that person to whom we give. For without these considerations, Bounty may incline to profuseness, and Liberality to indiscretion. This moved that Mirror of Roman Princes, the Emperor Titus, to keep a Book of the Names of such, whose deserts had purchased them esteem, but had not as yet tasted of his Bounty. So as, it is observed of him, that no day came over his head, wherein he expressed not his princely Munificence to such, whose names he had recorded: which, if at any time through more urgent occasions he neglected, he would use these words to such as were about him: Amici, perdidimus diem. Sext. Aurel. justin. O my friends, I have lost this day! No less was the bounty which Cyrus expressed, first in words, but afterward in deeds, to such Soldiers as took his part against his grandfather Astyages; that such as were Footmen, he would make them Horsemen, and such as were Horsemen, he would make them ride in their Chariots. It is said of the House of the Agrigentine Gillia, Cujus domus quasi quaedam munificentiae officina crederetur. Val. Max. l. 5. that it seemed as if it had been a certain Storehouse or repository of all Bounty. Such indeed was the Hospitality (esteemed in this Island formerly, one of the apparantest signals of Gentry) which was shown to all such as made recourse to that Mansion. And because I have accidentally fallen into this Discourse, let me speak a word or two touching this neglect of Hospitality, which may be observed in most places throughout this Kingdom. What the reason may seem to be I know not, unless riot and prodigality, the very Gulfs which swallow up much Gentry: why so many sumptuous and goodly Buildings, whose fair Frontispiece promise much comfort to the wearied Traveller, should want their Masters. But surely I think, as Diogenes jested upon the Mindians, for māking their gates larger than their City; bidding them take heed, lest the City run out at the gates: so their Storehouse being made so straight, and their Gates so broad, I much fear me, that Provision (the life of Hospitality) hath run out at their gates, leaving vast penurious houses apt enough to receive, but unprovided to relieve. But indeed, the reason why this defect of noble Hospitality hath so generally possessed this Realm, is their love to the Court. This moved his Highness of late, to declare his gracious pleasure to our Gentry: that all persons of rank and quality should retire from the City, and return to their Country; where they might bestow that on Hospitality, which the liberty of the time; too much besotted with fashion and foreign imitation, Paucos heavit aula, plures perdidit● Sed & hos quoque ipsos, quos heavit, perdidit. Faern. in Emb. useth to disgorge on vanity. Their ancient Predecessors, whose chiefest glory it was to relieve the hungry, refresh the thirsty, and give quiet repose to the weary, are but accounted by these sweet-sented Humorists, for men of rustic condition, mere homespun fellows, whose rural life might seem to derogate from the true worth of a Gentleman, whose only humour is to be fantastically humorous. O the misery of error! how far hath vanity carried you astray (ye generous spirits) that you should esteem noble bounty, which consists not so much in Bravery as Hospitality, boorish Rusticity? How much are you deluded by apish formality, as if the only quality of a Gentleman were novel compliment? or as if there were no good in man besides some outlandish congee or salute? Alas Gentlemen, is this all that can be expected at your hands? Must your Country which bred you, your friends who love you, the poor, whose prayers or curses will attend you, be all deprived of their hopes in you? No; rather return to your Houses, where you may best express your Bounty, by entertaining into your bosom, that which perchance hath been long time estranged from you, Charity. For believe it (as assuredly ye shall find it) that your sumptuous Banqueting, your midnight revelling, your unseasonable rioting, your fantastic attiring, your formal courting shall witness against you in the day of revenge. For behold the Lord commandeth, and he will smite the great house with breached, and the little house with clefts. Amos 6.11. Return therefore before the evil day come: distribute to the Necessity of the Saints, become good Dispenser's of what you have received, that ye may gain yourselves grace in the high Court of Heaven. But as for ye that put far away the evil day, and approach to the Seat of iniquity; Amos 6.3, 5, 7. Ye that sing to the sound of the Vi●ll, and invent yourselves instruments of Music, ye shall go captive with the first that go captive. O misery! that Man with so beauteous an Image adorned, with such exquisite ornaments of Art and Nature accomplished, to so high a rank above others advanced, should delude himself so with the shade of vanity, as to become forgetful of his chiefest glory! But experience (I doubt not) will unseal those eyes which lightness and folly have blinded; till which happy discovery of Youthful error, I leave them, and return to my former Discourse. You may perceive now, how requisite Bounty is for a Gentleman, being an especial mark (as I observed before) whereby we may discern him. Amongst sundry other Blessings conferred by God on Solomon, this was not one of the least, in that he gave him a large heart: Not only abundance of substance and treasure to possess, but a large heart to dispose. Indeed this is a rare virtue: worldlings there are, who possess much, but they enjoy little, becoming subject to that which they should command. The difference betwixt the poor wanting, Nihil liberale, quod non idem est justum Cic. and rich not using, is by these two expressed; the one Carendo, the other Non fruendo. Of which two, the greater misery is the latter; for he slaves himself to the unworthiest Servitude, being a Servant to obey, where he should be a Master to command. To conclude this point in a word; if we ought to show such contempt to all earthly substance as hardly to entertain it, Calvin. Instit. lib. 3. cap. 23. much less affect it; let us make it a benefit, let us show humanity in it, by making choice of the poor, on whom we may bestow it. This which we waste in rioting, might save many from famishing: let us bestow therefore less of our own backs, that we may clothe them; less of our own bellies, that we may feed them; less of our own palates, that we may refresh them. For that's the best and noblest bounty, when our Liberality is on such bestowed, by whom there is no hope that it should be required. Fortitude. THe third and last mark whereby a true generous Disposition is distinguished, is Fortitude or sloutnesse: being indeed the argument of a prepared or composed mind, which is not to be dismayed or disturbed by any sharp or adverse thing, how cross or contrary soever it come. Excellently is this Fortitude defined by the Stoics, terming it a virtue which standeth ever in defence of equity: not doing, but repelling an injury. Those Heirs of true Honour, who are possessed of this virtue, dare oppose themselves to all occurrents in defence of reputation; preferring death before servitude and dishonour. If at any time (as many times such immerited censures occur) they die for virtue's cause, they meet death with a cheerful countenance; they put not on a childish fear, like that Bandit in Genoa, who, condemned to die, and carried to the place of execution, trembled so exceedingly, that he had two men to support him all the way, Maldon. in 26. Matt. cap. 1. and yet he shivered extremely. Or (as Maldonatu●● relates) how he heard of those which saw a strongman at Paris condemned to death, Arist lib. 7. the Hist animal c. 16. & l 3. the part. anim. c. 5. to sweat blood for very fear: proving out of Aristotle, that this effect may be natural. But these whose generous spirits scorn such baseness, never saw that enterprise which they durst not attempt, nor that death which could amate them; where Honour grounded on Virtue, without which there is no true Honour, moved them either to attempt or suffer. But now to wipe off certain aspersions laid on valour or fortitude: we are not to admit of all daring Spirits to be men of this rank: For such, whose Ambition excites them to attempt unlawful things; as to depose those whom they ought to serve, or lay violent hand on those whom loyal fidelity bids them obey; opposing themselves to all dangers to obtain their purpose, are not to be termed valiant or resolute, but seditious and dissolute. For unless the enterprise be honest which they take in hand, be their Spirits never so resolute, Fort is non est qui in arenam descendendo, dimicare audet, sed qui nocendi cansam secum discutis, priusquàm auder. 1. Macchab. 24. or their minds prepared, it is rashness, but not valour, having their actions ever suited by dishonour. Sometimes likewise the enterprise may be good and honest; the cause for which they encounter with danger, virtuous; the Agents in their enterprise courageous; yet the issue taste more of despair than valour. Example hereof we have in the Macchabees, in the death of Razis one of the Elders of jerusalem, a lover of the City, and a man of very good report; which for his love was called a Father of the jews. One, who did offer to spend his body and life with all constancy for the religion of the jews; yet being ready to be taken on every side, through the fury of Nicanor, who so eagerly assaulted and hotly pursued him, he fell on his Sword: yea, when his blood was utterly gone, he took out his own bowels with both his hands, and threw them upon the people, calling upon the Lord of life and spirit, that he would restore them again unto him; And thus he died. Whence Augustine, that devout Father and most excellent light of the Church, concludeth, that this was done magnè, non benè, more resolutely than rightly: for he was not to lay violent hand upon himself, though there were no hope of safety, but imminent danger in respect of the furious and bloody enemy. Now this Fortitude, whereof we here discourse, as it is grounded upon a just foundation, so it never ends in baseness or rashness: in Baseness, as in not daring; in Rashness, as in too inconsiderately attempting. It is so far from any act of Despair, as it hopes so long as it breathes; for to despair, is to entertain the extremest act of fear, which is far from her condition. The proper aim or end whereto the actions of true resolution are directed. Cicero. Boet. Now to discourse of the aim or end whereto all her actions are directed: it is not any peculiar interest which moves true resolution so much as public good. For such, whose aims are glorious, are ever conversant in redressing wrongs, ministering comfort both by advice and assistance to such, whose weakness hath felt the power of greatness. For as in every good man there is naturally implanted a desire of goodness; so in every valiant man there is a native desire to gain honour by redressing injuries: yea, admit to honour were to accrue unto him by endeavouring to right or relieve such as are distressed, yet for virtue's sake (which is a sufficient reward to herself) he undertakes the task. In Lups. treatise of Charity. For Charity, being a good and a gracious effect of the Soul, whereby man's heart hath no fancy to esteem, value or prise any thing in this wide world beside or before the care and study of God, so inflameth a well-disposed man, as his desire is only to do good, whereby he might in so doing glorify God, the beginner and accomplisher of all good. Now there are many motives to excite men to valour, as may be collected from Histories properly and profitably tending to this purpose. But the usuallest motive is Anger, being indeed the Whetstone of Fortitude: Or the Prince's presence; Cic. 4. lib. Tusc. quaest. as we read of the Macedonians, who being once overcome in battle by their enemies, thought the only remedy to animate their Soldiers, was to carry Philip being then a child in a cradle to the field; thereby stirring up the zeal of loyal and faithful Subjects to defend their innocent Prince: and this Whetstone so sharpened their swords, that indeed they won the battle. Or the renown of Ancestors; as the people of Tangia in America always in their wars carried the bones & relics of their memorable predecessors, to encourage their Soldiers with the memory of them, to avoid and eschew all timidity. So Tacitus reports how the Germans inflame their spirits to resolution & valour, by singing the memorable acts of Hercules. Or the sound of warlike alarms; as the Nairians in India stir up their people to battle, by hanging at the pummels of their swords certain plates to make a noise, to animate & incense them to war. So Alexander the great hearing Antigenida that excellent Trumpeter sound his trumpet to battle, was stirred up in such sort to fight, that his very friends were not secure from blows which stood about him. Or the passionate effects of Music; as S. Basil recounteth one Timothy to be so excellent in Music, that if he used a sharp and severe harmony, he stirred up men to anger, and presently by changing his note to a more remiss and effeminate strain, he moved them to peace: both which effects he once produced in Alexander the great at a banquet. Or Conceit of the General's discipline and magnanimity; As may appear by the victorious Swede, his late prosperous attempts, and numerous conquests: whose martial discipline, and personal valour, hath (no doubt) begot in his Soldiers an emulation of honour. Or opinion of the enemy's cruelty; as in the year 1562. appeared in Agria a City in Hungaria, engirt with long siege by Mahomet Bassa with an Army of Turks amounting to threescore thousand, and battered with sixty Cannons; in the City were only two thousand Hungarians, who with incredible valour repelled thirteen most terrible assaults: resolved to endure famine, or any extremity soever, rather than yield to their truculent and insatiable desires. Wherefore they never came to parley of truce, but to answer their Enemy's fury with Cannons and Calivers. At last, when the Bassa had offered them many favours, they hung over the wall a Coffin, covered with black, betwixt two spears, signifying thereby, that in that City they would be buried. So the Turks despaired of success, and the Hungarians, to their eternal glory and renown, prevailed: preserving themselves and their City, whose liberty they defended from the Turks slavery. And hence I might take occasion to advance with due deserved praise the glorious memory of such, whose resolution hath had no other aim, than defence of the Truth against those professed foes of Christendom; who have already taken possession of the Holy Land, The prudent observation of Cortugal, one of the Turkish Princes, in his O●ation persuasive to his Lord to besiege Rhodes, was this Christimus occasus discord●s intesti●●● correboratur. making the Keepers of that Sacred Sepulchre (the most blessed Monument that ere was erected on Earth) to pay them tribute, whose highswelling pride is grown to that height, as their Empire seems to labour with her own greatness. O what tender Christian eye can behold these woeful distractions in Christendom, and abstain from tears? To see Christian armed against Christian, while the common foe of Christians laughs at these divisions, taking advantage of the time to enlarge his Dominions. O who can endure to see Pagans and Infidels plant, where the blessed feet of our Saviour once trod? To hear Mahomet called upon, where Christ once taught? To have them usurp and profane those Temples, where he once preached? To rear them Altars for their false Prophets, where those true Prophets of God once prophesied? To see Mahomet's Oratory erected, where the jewish Temple was once seated? To behold his Palace in the Cathedral Church of SAN SOPHIA, now become his Seraglios; where stood once the High-Altar or Communion-Table, and patriarchal Throne, now made, and so used as a Turkish Moschie, with unclean hands polluted, by unbelieving hearts possessed? alas for sorrow! that Sovereignty should so much blind, or desire of command bear so much sway, Sitting that Christ * 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉. Enemy should get advantage by our discord. O thrice happy (and may it be soon so happy) were the state of Christendom, if all civil and unnatural broils (for unnatural it is for Christian to shed Christians blood) were appeased and ended! that they with one consent might assail this common Enemy, marching even to Constantinople (once the glorious seat of a victorious Emperor) crying with one voice, Down with it, Down with it even to the ground. And easily might this be achieved, if Christendom would join mind with might, that this Uncircumcised Philistine might be discomfited, till which time Christendom can never be secured. But to conclude this Discourse, (for I fear I have enlarged myself too much in my digression;) as Fortitude is that noble mark which giveth a Gentleman his true character, showing resolution as well in suffering, as acting: my exhortation to our English Gentry shall be, that they so demean themselves, that their Country may be honoured by them, true worth expressed in them, and their Predecessors virtues seconded, if not surpassed by them. THE ENGLISH GENTLEMAN. Argument. What Education is; The effects of it. How a Gentleman may be best enabled by it. EDUCATION. EDucation is the Seasoner or instructesse of Youth, Observ. 3. What Education is. Knowledge. in principles of Knowledge, Discourse, and Action. Of all inferior knowledges, none more behooveful than the knowledge of Mansselfe; of all superior, none more useful nor divinely fruitful than the knowledge of God, who for Man gave himself. By view had of the One, Man shall have a sight of his misery; by view had to the Other, Man shall find cause to admire God's Mercy. Hence that hony-tongued Father desired that his Knowledge might extend itself only to these two: To know God; To know himself; Now as the beauty and splendour of the Sun is best discerned by his Beams; Vt cognoscam te; ut erg●●scam me. Bern. Knowledge of God. so is the greatness of God best apprehended by his Works. Whereof I may say, as Simonides did of God, that when he had required but one day to resolve what God was: when the day was expired, he was more unable to answer, than at the first. So as Hermes terms the Sunbeams of God to be his Works and Miracles; the Sunbeams of the World to be the variety of forms and features; and the Sunbeams of Man, diversity of Arts and Sciences. TOuching Knowledge, it is in God to know all things; in Man to know some things; in Beasts to know nothing. As we cannot extend to the distinct knowledge of the Creator, so let us extend our Knowledge above the reach of the inferiour'st of God's creatures. It is written of Alcibiades, that he was skilful in all things, in all exercises: so that he seemed in every Nation to obtain the conquest, in what prize or mastery soever he took in hand. 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉. Luke. 10.42. It is not for us to labour the attaining of such exactness: Vnum est necessarium: One only Knowledge transcends all others, the attaining whereof makes the knower happy; as the want of it makes Man, how Knowing soever in all other Sciences, most unhappy. For what skills it to have knowledge in reasoning of high and deep points concerning the blessed Trinity, and want Charity, whereby we offend the Trinity? Let us therefore esteem it the Crown of our Hope, to attain to the excellent and incomparable knowledge of him who made us, whose blood did save us, Knowledge of Man's self. and whose holy Spirit daily and hourly shields and shadows us. Next is to know himself; an excellent knowledge grounded on true Humility: where Man shall find how many things he is ignorant of; and of these things which he knows, how far short he comes of that perfection which is required of him, it was a saying of a grave Philosopher, By learning always something, 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉. Multum semper discens, senesco. Socrat. I grow old. Now how fruitfully were our time from Infancy to Youth, from Youth to Manhood, from Manhood to Old-age employed, if our aims were so to direct our knowledge, that we might attain the understanding and knowledge of ourselves. Then would not selfe-conceit selfe-conceit transport us, nor opinion of our own knowledge entrance us, but we would divinely conclude; we have reaped more spiritual profit by disesteem, than selfe-esteeme. Alphonsus of Arragon answered an Orator, Panorm. de reb. gest. Alphon. lib. 1. who had recited a long panegyrical Oration in his praise: If that thou hast said consent with truth, I thank God for it; If not, I pray God grant me grace that I may do it. The like temper I could wish in each Gentleman, who in respect of means more than merit, shall many times hear himself approved and applauded by such Tame-beasts or glozing Sycophants, who feed on the Prodigals trencher. Let not applause so much transport, Prodigi praed●a, parasiti praeda. or praise so far remove man from himself, as to become (by the vain blast of others breath) forgetful of himself. Humbly esteemed he of his knowledge, who concluded: This I only know, that I know nothing. Socrat. Nothing in respect of that I should know; Nothing in respect of that which is enjoined me to know; Nothing in respect of others who know far more than ere I may know. For (saith Bernard) how canst thou possibly be a proficient, Quomodo proficis, sitam tibi sufficis? Bern. if thou thinkest thyself already sufficient? But alas, how far hath self-opinion estranged Man from knowledge of himself; who rather than he will be found ignorant in any thing, will assume upon him a supposed knowledge in every thing? He will rather lie upon his knowledge, than seem defective in any knowledge. Whence one speaking of the knowledge of Man's self, most divinely concludeth; Nosce teipsum first descended from Heaven to Earth, is now ascended from Earth to Heaven, Aug. in S●liloq. cap. 29. leaving miserable Man admiring his own feature, as if he were his own Maker. And whence proceedeth this, but because he hath ascended unto that Mountain, to which the first Angel ascended, and as a Devil descended? whereas, if he duly considered those many imperfections whereto he is engaged; those many debts and bills of errors, which, as yet, are undischarged; that natural or original sin wherein he was conceived; and that actual sin wherewith he is daily polluted; he would questionless conclude; What's man whose first conception's misery, Bern. Medit. cap. 3. Birth bane, life pain, and death necessity? Which divine Meditation is of power to subdue the whole Man of Sin, Plutarch. in l. de virt. amor. Motus animae (saith S. Aug.) quos Graeci 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 appellant. Ex Lati●is quidam (ut Cic. 3. Tus.) Perturbationes dixerunt, alii affectiones, alii affectus, alii expr●ssas passiones vocav●runt. Damascen defineth other affections of the mind. Motio sensualis appetivae virtutis, ob boni vei mali imaginationem. l. 2. the fid. orthodox. c. 22. Zeno ap. Cic. in 4. Tusc. ita definite: Perturbatio seu 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 aversa recta ratione contra naturam animi commotio. In vit. Anselmi. and bring him under the yoke of obedience, by an incessant consideration had of God's mercy, and man's misery; which may produce in him a more blessed effect, by extenuating and humbling himself, both in respect of the Substance or matter of his creation, and in respect of the irregenerate course of his conversation: as also in contemplating the ineffable mercy of the Almighty; whose grace it is, that directs miserable man, and reduceth him from erring; whose compassion it is, that raiseth him from falling; and whose tender mercy it is, that supporteth him in his rising. But in my conceit, there is no one motive more effectual, or divinely powerful, to bring us to a true and perfect knowledge of ourselves, than to observe with what passions or perturbations we are encountered; especially when through immoderate excess, we are in the cup of forgetfulness drowned. Which Saint Basil confirmeth, saying: That passions rise up in a drunken man, like a Swarm of Bees buzzing on every side. Which passions are not such as are prevented by reason, and directed by virtue: for these are not altogether to be extinguished, as the Stoics supposed, but to be provoked as movers of virtue, as Plutarch teacheth. But rather such distempered or indisposed affections as are suggested to Man by his implacable Enemies: labouring to undermine and ruin the glorious palace of his dear-bought soul. Upon which affections seriously to meditate, were to expel all self-conceited or opinionate arrogance; to become humble in our own thoughts: concluding, that our knowledge is ignornet, our strength weakness, and our wisdom foolishness. Being (as one well observeth) like a Spring-locke, ready of ourselves to shut, but not to open; apt to shut grace from us, than to receive grace into us: or like stones upon the top of a hill, by reason of our heavy and earthy nature, ready enough to tumble down, but without the help or motion of another, slow enough to mount up. Saint Anselm walking abroad in the field, and beholding a Shepherd's Boy, who had caught a Bird, and tied a stone to her leg with a thread; and ever as the Bird mounted, the stone haled her back again. The venerable old man moved with this sight, fell a weeping pitifully, lamenting the miserable condition of Men, who endeavouring to ascend up to heaven by Contemplation, are detained by the passions of the flesh; which enforce the soul to lie there like a Beast, and not soar to heaven by that proper motion, which was first giveth her by her Creator. Now to conclude this first point, (by making a fruitful use or application of what hath been already spoken) I could wish Young Gentlemen, whose aims, perchance, are addressed to purchase rather the light freight of foreign fashions, than the precious gem of Selfe-knowledge, to be otherwise minded, by conforming themselves to his * Vt a Christo accepimus beneficium, praesiemus Christiani officium. praebendomemoris Christi hospicium. Erige oculum in humilitatis speculum, ejus enim exemplum, speciosii Deo praeparabit templum. Quantumcum. que te ●cejeceris, humilior non eris Christo. Hieron. 1 Tim. 6.4. pattern and example, who though he knew all things, boasted not of his knowledge, but abased himself to make us rich in all spiritual knowledge. As for such as are puffed up and know nothing, but dote about questions and strife of words, whereof cometh envy, strife, rail, evil surmisings, perverse dispute of men of corrupt minds, and destitute of the truth; we are taught to withdraw ourselves from them, because their fellowship is not of Light, but Darkness; their knowledge no perfect nor sincere knowledge, but palpable ignorance; their wisdom no sound nor substantial wisdom, but mere foolishness. Their ways are not by the flocks of the Shepherds, but ragged and uneven ways, leading their deluded followers headlong to all perdition. A right profitable exhortation to all such as are drawn away by strange doctrine. Dear Christians, though I know this point to have been gravely and exactly handled by many solid and learned Divines, whose holy oil hath been fruitfully employed in unmasking and discovering these dangerous Separatists, who have sown the seed of pernicious doctrine in the ears of their weak Auditory: yet I think it not amiss to press this exhortation further, lest your speedy ruin prevent you of all hope hereafter. Beware of these Pharisaical Doctors, Sacerdotes nominamur, non sumus. Gr. Humilium sumus Doctores, superbiae deuces. ibid. Nemo ●am impius est, quem Haereticus impietate non vincat. S Hieron l. 7. in Esaiam. Si enim Haeretici sunt, Christiani ●sse non possunt. Tertul. de praesor. cap. 37. Cypr. de Vnitate. Et Higher contra Luciferianos. whose purity only consists in semblance and outward appearance; whose doctrine hath ever a taste of pride; whose counsels ever tend to faction; and wose ways are ever Antipodes to the truth. These are called Prophets, but they are none: being humble Teachers, but proud Doctors. Outwardly specious, but inwardly vicious: having fair rinds, but false hearts: having a show of godliness, but denying the power thereof. Come from among them and leave them, for their ways lead to death, and their paths to destruction. Saint john would not come in the Bath where the Heretic Cerinthus was. Another holy Man (though most innocent) could endure to be accounted a Whoremaster, an unclean person, and the like; but when one called him Heretic, he could bear no longer. We have here (thanks to our Maker) more pleasant and delightful Springs to retire to, than these troubled and corrupted Puddles, which taste of nothing but pollution. Leave these, and love those. Where can there be Unity, where there is no Conformity, Where a holy zeal or compassionate fervour, when nothing is spoke but by the sons of thunder? Be ye wise unto salvation; may godliness be your best knowledge; that, dissolved from this Tabernacle of earth, ye may keep consort with the Angels in a blessed Harmony, because ye resembled them on earth in mutual love and unity. And let this suffice for the first branch, to wit, Knowledge. Now we will descend to the second, to wit, Discourse, with some necessary Cautions very profitable, if put in use, to direct (or rather limit) such, whose too liberal and profuse Speech ofttimes brings them within the censure of indiscretion. Discourse. DEmocritus calls Speech 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, the image of life, because it represents to man the occurrents and passages of his life. Now forasmuch as through the subtlety of time, men use to shroud and conceal their thoughts, by expressing lest what they intent most; Speech becomes a dark Image, Laert. lib. 6 representing man not as he is, but as he seems. Diogenes wondered that men would not buy earthen pots before they proved by the sound whether they were whole or broken: yet they would be contented to buy men by their Speech. The old proverb used by Socrates, and approved by ancient Philosophers, was this: Loquere ut te videam. Subtle purposes were not then shadowed or gilded with fair pretences; but so s●mple were their meanings, as they needed no words of Art (merely invented to delude) nor the gaudy ornaments of persuasive Oratory to colour them. Two especial errors incident to subjects of Discourse; But to propose some necessary cautions worthy observation of the Generous in their Discourse; I would have Young Gentlemen to beware especially of two errors, usually occurring in Subjects of this Nature; Affectation, Imitation: whereof Gentlemen are seriously cautioned Affectation. S●●● ser. 34. Affectation, and Imitation: The one for the most part arising from ourselves, the other from too ardent a desire of imitating others. The first sort generally, are so miserably enamoured of words, as they little care for substance. These are ever drawing a Leaden sword out of a gilded sheath; and will not lose a dram of Rhetoric for a pound of Reason: having, as Theocritus said of Anaximenes, a flood of words, but a drop of reason. These are ever talking, till their Mint of words fail them, and then of necessity they turn silent. These will lay themselves open to their professed'st enemy, so they may gain applause, and get the opinion of good speakers, being the only mark they shoot at. And indeed, these seldom hurt others, but many times themselves: for these are those fools, which carry their Hearts in their Mouths; and far from those wise men, which carry their Mouths in their Hearts. Though discretion of Speech be more than Eloquence, these prefer a little unseasoned Eloquence before the best temper of discretion. And thus much of Affectation. Imitation tastes no less of barrenness, Imitation. than the other of fantasticness: though I must confess, this draweth nearer true Humility, in that it disvalues itself, to become a serious observer and imitator of others. But great men especially cannot want imitators, be the occasion never so unworthy imitation. If Caesar have an use to hold his neck aside in his discourse or pleading, he shall have one to affect and imitate that deformity. If Vespasian draw in his face in a purse, (as if it went hard with him) he shall have one to represent it, as it were naturally. And, which is of all others most intolerable, so habitually are these grounded on Imitation, as they are conceited that nothing can so well beseem them, as this uncomely fashion which they have observed; and now imitate in others. Whereas if they would consider, how nothing forced may appear with that decency, as when it is naturally descended, they would ingenuously confess, that this apish or servile imitation detracts much from the worth of man, who should subsist on himself, and not rely on others postures. In brief, that Discourse is most generous, which is most genuine: Nature may beseem that, which Imitation cannot; but to address ourselves to imitation of others, in that which even appears ridiculous in the persons themselves, this inferreth gross stupidity. It is an excellent Lesson which a holy Father giveth to all Discoursers, Vin●. de vit. spirit. Ibid. Cicero. That they should rather be given to hear, than speak: and in matters of argument, to assoil a needless question with silence. So as Cicero preferreth wisdom attired with ignorance, before speech attended by folly. Now because the best of Discourse tendeth to persuasion, which is the life and efficacy of Speech; and this persuasion consisteth on three parts; Pic. Mi●●nd. ad Hermel. Life of the Speaker; Truth of the Subject; and Sobriety of Speech; of necessity these three must be observed, ere we can have our Audience sufficiently persuaded. First, for the Life of the Speaker: Life of the Speaker. if Speech (as we have said) be the Image of Life, why should not we conform our Life to our Speech? We would be loath to be taxed of indiscretion in our Speech; let us labour likewise to appear blameless and unreprovable in our Life. For he that forgetteth to conform or fashion his Life to his Speech, his Speech to his Life is like unto a man beholding his natural face in a glass: I●m. 1.24. for he beholdeth himself, and goeth his way, and straightway forgetteth what manner of man he was. Wherefore Gentlemen, of all others, ought to be most respective of their conversation; for a little soil is a great blemish in them, whose Education promiseth more than inferior men. Such men, for most part, gain best authority or approbation in Discourse, who having been ever observed to speak probably, and not of Subjects above the reach or pitch of humane conceit. Neither can any thing disparage or lay a deeper aspersion upon the face of Gentry, than to be taxed for fabulous relations. Especially therefore should they inure themselves to probable discourses, being such as may gain them an opinion of reputation, and be a means to confer more authority on their discourse. Truth of the Subject. The second is the truth of the Subject, which must needs import much authority: for how should we persuade, where the Subject admits no probability of Truth? Therefore were it meet, that we make choice of what we relate, not mainetaining whatsoever we hear by report, for undoubted Truth: for so should we be made * Equites Asiam, juven. Knights of post to all News-mongers, being no less ready to swear, than they to report. I have casually fallen into the company of some, whose only relation was novelty: these would entertain no Discourse but foreign, speaking as familiarly of the states of Princes, and their aims, as if they had new crept from their Bosoms. But alas, how ridiculous are these in the sight of judicious men, whose eyes are not so sealed, but they may easily discern the arrogancy of these, who affect rather to be admired than believed? Excellent and proper for our present purpose, is that Fable of the Fowler and the Bird: A Fowler having taken a Bird in his snare, was humbly entreated by the Bird, that he would free her and give her liberty, and she would requite this courtesy with three good Lessons; which (if duly observed) would profit him more than her small body. Upon these conditions, the Fowler was contented to release the poor Bird, provided, that the Lessons were so profitable and useful unto him, as she pretended. Which, in brief, were these: Not to lose a certainty for an incertainety: Not to give credit to things beyond probability: Nor to grieve for that which is past remedy. These lessons received, the Bird was forth with released: who being now at liberty, and mounting aloft in the air, and triumphing in so blest a freedom, chanted out this merry Madrigal; Hadst thou known the wealth I had, Thou wouldst ne'er have let me gone, For it would have made thee glad To enjoy so rich a one. In my bladder there's a stone, Than which, never earth brought forth One of more unvalued worth. This the discontented Fowler had no sooner heard, than presently he repented himself of so rare and inestimable a loss; which the nimble Bird perceiving, thus replied: How apt's man for to forget What might give him most content? Thou at Liberty me set, When I taught thee to repent Nothing how the world went; Nor what cross ere fallen on thee, If past hope of remedy. But thou grievest thou canst not have What thou canst not get again: Thus thou mak'st thyself a slave To thyself, and mournest in vain: And long may'st thou so complain. For my Lessons I was free, Yet thou keep'st not one of three. The perplexed Fowler inquisitive of knowing further pressed the Bird again; ask her in what particular he had broken any of her Lessons? To whom the Bird, flickering a little with her wings, as one that gloried in her unexpected Liberty, answered; The Lessons which I gave thou sleight'st, And weig'st them but a rush, Or else thou wouldst not lose one Bird In hand, for two in Bush. The next was, things incredible Near credited should be, Yet thou believest a precious stone Worth worlds is hid in me. The last, for things remediless Thou never shouldst complain, And now when I am flown from thee, Thou wishest me again. Many excellent Morals are shadowed in these Fables, which may deserve observation of the pregnant'st and maturest conceit; not only in the Subject or substance of the admonition, but in the person which giveth this admonition. Where the Poets smoothly, but tartly, used to introduce Beasts, Birds, and such like creatures; admonishing man, the noblest of all creatures, of his duty. Yea of Beasts, they made choice sometimes of the grossest and contemptiblest, as the Ass, to express the want of consideration in Man; whose diviner parts drowned in the Lees of sensual corruption, or carnal security, become forgetful of that, for which they were principally created. It were easy to enlarge this Subject with much variety of examples; but my purpose is, in digressions, rather to touch than treat. We have handled two particulars, effectually moving to persuasion; The Life of the Speaker, that it be unreprovable; The Nature of the Subject whereof he speaks, that it be probable. Now we are to descend to the Third, which is Sobriety of Speech: an especial Motive to attention, Sobriety of Speech. being that which Cicero much commendeth, and for which Hortensius was much commended. Albeit, arguing in Syla's cause, he was taxed by L. Torquatus, and called for his too much effeminacy in apparel, as also for his too much action of body, not only a Common Actor, but even a Dionysia, who was famous for her moving and wanton gesture. To whom Hortensius answered, Callest thou me Dionysia? Sure I had rather be a Dionysia than as thou art, Gell in Noct. Atti●. Torquatus: 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉: one without Learning, barbarous and uncivil. Now this Sobriety consists not only in the pronunciation of Speech, but Sober carriage or deportment of the Body, which indeed addeth no little lustre to Discourse. I have observed in some, a kind of carelessness in their form of speaking; which, though it gain approbation in men of eminent rank, it would seem harsh and contemptible in men of inferior condition. Others there are, who can never enter into any set or serious Discourse, but they must play with a button; or like some of our clodded Elders, who for helps to Discourse, milch their gloves, as if they drained their Subject from such trifling action: and these, me thinks, resemble our Common-Fidlers, who cannot play a stroke, to gain a world, without motion or wagging of their head, as if they had rare Crotchets in their brain: but this mimic and apish action keeps small concurrence with the Postures of a Gentleman, whose Speech as it should be free, native and generous; so should the action of his body admit of no fantastic imitation or servile affectation, which expresseth little, save a degenerate quality or disposition. Others I have likewise noted, to conclude their Set speeches with winks and nods, as if the understanding of the whole world were confined to the circumference of their brain: and these usually express more solidity of conceit in the action of their bodies, than the motion of their tongues. For ofttimes, through want of matter (being graveled with an affected gravity) they are forced to trifle time in impertinencies, and leave that matter untouched for which they came. I could wish that Young Gentlemen would principally observe this Lesson, to be sober in arguments of Discourse, but especially in reasoning: for there is nothing that darkeneth or obscureth the Light of reason, Immoderate passion, in arguments of Discourse and reasoning, to be avoided. more than the boundless effects of Passion, which makes a man forgetful of that he should say, no less than indiscreet in that he doth say. But especially in public assemblies, where difference of judgements ofttimes rack our speeches to a higher pin, ought deliberation to be had: for there we cannot recall so soon what we have spoke amiss, as in private, where less premeditation may afford matter of satisfaction. I approve likewise of his opinion, who would have such, whose pleasant conceits minister content to the hearer, if they mean to jest publicly, & force their wits to stem the stream of the world's judgements, (which, I say, are different, and therefore more observant) that they use Pericles custom, who determining to speak any thing publicly, desired the immortal gods, that no improvident word, should pass his mouth. Certainly, whosoever he be that speaks and never meditates, may be compared to the unclean beast, who digests and never ruminates. Neither is it hard to gather this, Plutarch. in vit. Phoc. even by their Discourse, which consists merely on ventosity, digressive and impertinent, spending much wind to small purpose▪ resembling Pytheas that foolish Orator, who would never leave his babbling. He that meditates before he be prepared (saith one) builds his house before stones be gathered. But sure I am, he that discourseth before he be provided, serves up his dishes before they be seasoned. Albeit Tiberius be said to do better in any Oration ex tempore, than premeditate. Two powerful motives or persuasion Vehemency of Passion: and Instancy of Demonstration. Now I could reduce these discursive motives of Persuasion, to two general heads: to wit, vehemency of Passion; or instancy of Demonstration: and first for vehemency of Passion, here may we produce an apt and proper example. There came a man to Demosthenes, desiring his help to defend his cause, and told him how one had beaten him: Demosthenes answered him again, saying, I do not believe this to be true: the Plaintiff then thrusting out his voice aloud, said, What, hath he not beaten me? Yes indeed (quoth Demosthenes) I believe it now, for I hear the voice of a man that was beaten indeed. Whence appeareth, what effects vehemency of Passion produceth, expressing her wrongs so well in words, as they enforce belief to the Hearer. Likewise, because examples illustrate, though they do not prove; touching instancy of Demonstration, we have an excellent one in that of Cato: who determined to strike the Senate and Romans in fear, discoursed at large of the Carthaginian wars, aggravating the danger by proper circumstances, which threatened the public State; and instancing the ruin of many eminent and flourishing States occasioned by the security of their people. But they objecting again, that Carthage was far from them; He showed them green figs, implying thereby that Carthage was not far distant, for otherwise the figs would have been dried and withered. These kinds of Discourses, seconded by instance, are very moving and persuasive; for as Speech is called the object of the ear, so is such kind of instance an object to the eye, which must needs be more persuading, because visibly appearing. But we have enlarged this Subject too much; wherefore to draw in our sails, and apply particularly, what in general hath been discoursed: I could wish Young Gentlemen considerate in what they speak, Qualis Sermo o●tenditur, talis & animus comprebatur. Isid. because Speech is termed the Index of the Mind, and can best express him, whether he taste of rind or pith. Now because moderation of the tongue is such an absolute virtue, as it displayeth the wisdom of him that hath it; whence the wisest of all Princes, He that bridleth his tongue is most wise: I must needs prefer discreet Silence before loquacity, Est enim fidelitut● silentio merces. Hor. carm. l. 3. ad 2. for in much speech there shall want no sin (saith Solomon:) whereas Silence is exempted from all Censure, so it be mixed with discretion. It is said, that Pythagoras would desire two things of God (if the possibility thereof could stand with the conservation of humane society:) that he might not speak, that he might not eat: for by the one, he should prevent offence in discourse; by the other, avoid surfeit through excess Whence the Poet; Silence is such a soule-entrauncing charm, It may do good, but can do little harm. Albeit, that Pythagorean silence I cannot approve of, being many times prejudicial to the public state: Silentio culps crescit. Isidor. for by silence (saith the Orator) is error approved, the lustre of virtue darkened, good and wholesome precepts suppressed; whereby Youth might be instructed, private families directed, all inordinate motions corrected, and the whole structure of this little world, Man, rectified and repaired. But especially in divine professors and dispensers of the sacred word, Neque Imperiale est libertatem dicendi negare, neque Sacerdotale quod sentiat, non dicere, Ambr. epist. 17. Gr●g is Silence most hurtful: for these should be shrill Trumpets in sounding and delivering the sweet tidings of salvation, the tidings of peace and spiritual consolation. The Pastor (saith a blessed Father) by holding his peace, doubtlessly killeth sinners: that is, when he will not tell the house of jacob his sins, nor Israel her transgressions; but cries, peace, peace, when there can be no true peace: for what peace unto the wicked, saith the Lord? So as the word of the Lord which came unto the Prophet, roused him up with this fearful caveat: If thou givest not the ungodly warning, he shall perish but his blood will I require at thy hand. Ezek. 3.18. With whom the Apostle harmoniously joineth; 1 Cor. 9.16. Woe unto me if I preach not the Gospel. For in that cause wherein the faithful and painful Pastor is to please God, he is to slight the pleasure or displeasure of men. quicksands ●uid non licet, Pastoris est prohibere ne fiat. Aug. Now Gentlemen, ye whose Education hath engaged you far in the expectance and opinion of others; ye whose more generous breeding promiseth more than others; ye whose nobler parts should distinguish you from others; let not those innate seeds of Gentility first sown in you, as in a hopeful Seedplot, be nipped in their rising: which, that ye may the better prevent, exercise yourselves in noble discourses, not wanton or petulant, for these breed a dangerous corruption even in the life and conversation of man. Ludo v. Viu. instruct. Christ. Mul. Adeoque ut errorem cum lacte Nutricis sugunt. Cic. Vberalactis & lucis, alent vos milites Supremi Ducis. Quintilian would not have Nurses to be of an immodest or uncomely Speech, adding this cause; Lest (saith he) such manners, precepts, and discourses as young children learns in their unriper years, remain so deeply rooted, as they shall scarce ever be relinquished. Sure I am, that the first impressions, whether good or evil, are most continuate, and with least difficulty preserved. How necessary then is it, that an especial care or respect be had herein, that choice be made of such, whose modest and blameless conversation may tender you their breasts in your infancy, and furnish you with grave and serious precepts in your minority? that your Knowledge may be fruitful; your Discourses useful; and your actions in the eyes of the Almighty grateful. Of which Action, we are now to speak; being the third Branch which we observed in our definition of Education. Action. THat Education is the seasoner of our actions, we shall easily prove, if we observe the rare and incredible effects derived from it: which, that we may the better do, 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉. you are to know, that every Action hath two handles; the One whereof consists in contriving, the other in performing. Cic. Sen. de tranq. anim. In the former, we are to observe deliberation: whence the Orator; before we take any thing in hand, we are to use a diligent or serious preparation; that we may effect what we intent, and more prosperously succeed in that we take in hand. In the Latter, is diligence required; for what is premeditation or preparation worth, if it be not by diligence seconded? When Annibal was a child and at his father's commandment, Appian. Alex. he was brought into the place where he made sacrifice, and laying his hand upon the Altar, swore, that so soon as he had any rule in the Commonwealth, he would be a professed enemy to the Romans: nor did he infringe the vow which his infancy had professed, but expressed when he came to be a man, what he had protested to perform being a child. No Device unassayed, no Stratagem uncontrived, no Labour neglected, no Task unattempted, which might confer honour on Carthage, or express his mortal and implacable hate to Rome. The admirable effects of Education. In this one example, we shall see the strength of Education: for though Annibal had no cause personally given him, to vow all hostility rather on Rome than any other place; yet in respect he received his breeding from such as were professed foes to the Romans, he seconds their hate, resolving to live and die Rome's enemy. Educatio & doctrina efficiunt mores. Seneca. The like may be observed in the demeanour & conversation of men: in which respect also, Education discovereth her absolute power. For shall we not see some, whose fair outsides promise assured arguments of singular worth, for want of breeding mere painted Trunks, glorious features, yet shallow Creatures? and whence cometh this, but through want of that which makes man accomplished, seconding Nature with such exquisite ornaments, as they enabled him for all managements public or private? Lycurgus brought two dogs, the one savage, wild, and cruel; the other trained; to let the people see the difference betwixt men brought up well, and badly: and withal to let them understand the great good of keeping laws. Now what are these savage and wild dogs, but resemblances of such, whose untrained Youth never received the first impressions of a generous Education? Without learning Hercules becomes a Tyrant, Darius' insolent, Achilles' inordinate. These, as they were bred in the Mountains, so their conversation is mountainous, their behaviour harsh and furious, their condition distempered and odious. Yet see the misery of custom! what delight these will take in actions of incivility! nothing relisheth with them, save what they themselves affect; nor can they affect aught worthy of approbation, for Education (which one calls an early custom) hath so far wrought with them, as they approve of nought freely, affect nought truly, nor intent aught purposely, save what the rudeness of Education hath enured them to. These men's aims are so far from attaining honour, as they partake of nothing which may so much as have the least share in the purchase of Honour. Their minds are depressed, and as it were earth-turned: for they aspire to nothing which may have being above them; neither can they stoop any lower, for nothing can be under them. Nor can their actions be noble, when their dispositions by a malevolent custom are grown so despicable. Hence it is, Par● divinain homine mersa. Sen. Lips. that the Philosopher saith; The divine part in such m●n is drowned, because not accommodated to what it was first ordained. For how is it possible that their affections should mount above the verge of earth, whose breeding and being hath been ever in earth? They (saith Phavorinus) who suck sow's milk, Phavorinus. will love wallowing in the mire: inferring that as our Education hath form us, so will we address ourselves in the passage and current of our life. For as Nature is too strong to be forced, so Education (being a second Nature) hath kept too long possession to be removed. She it is, that in some sort mouldeth our actions and affections, framing us to her own bent; as if we received all our discipline from her, by whom we were first nourished, and since tutored. But you may object, if Education express such power, as her first native impressions cannot be suppressed; how did those men appear educated, whose first breeding was in mountains, and afterwards advanced to no less glory than a Diadem! Such were Romulus and Remus; that translator of the Median Empire to the Persians, victorious Cyrus; and he who from the Plow-stiles was elected Emperor, to wit, Gordius. Surely their Education came far short of that which is expected in the majesty of a Prince; yet what inimitable precedents of renown were these, showing much resolution in conquering, Vid. Tit. Liv. Luc. Flor. Plut. in vit. Rome Among Wolves was his Education, by Vultures his Inauguration. and no less policy in retaining what they had conquered. To begin with the first, to wit, Romulus; truth is, he laid the first foundation of a glorious and flourishing State; yet as his Nurse was a Wolf, he played the Wolf to his brother. He planted his Kingdom in blood, as his infancy received food from her, whose native disposition affecteth blood. Neither can I be persuaded, that his carriage could be so civil, as that his first breeding left no relic nor relish of Barbarism; especially, when I read what injuries or indignities were offered the Sabines by him, what cruelties were acted upon his own Uncle, what impieties were committed upon the neighbouring Herdsmen: Hi pastors pecorum, magis quam reges gentium. the multitude whereof expressed how cruelly he was naturally addicted, and that the first seeds which his savage Education had sown in him, could hardly be suppressed. Touching Cyrus, no question his breeding was not altogether in the Mountains, for he had recourse or resort (though unknown) to Astyages Court, Xenophon in Cyropaedia. where he received no small bettering in the progress of his reign. Neither (as it may probably be collected) would Harpagus permit so great hopes, as were treasured in him, and by all Auguries and Predictions likely to be confirmed of him, to be destitute of instructions fit and accommodate for so high a person. For else, how should such excellent Laws have been devised; such exquisite Cautions for state government provided; the Empire of the Medes, with whom it had so long continued, to the Persians peaceably translated, and without faction established? These (I say) might probably confirm, how well this victorious Shepherd was furnished with all precepts apt to inform him; stored with all princely habiliments fit to accomplish him; and exercised in all regal discipline, the better to prepare him against all occurrents that should assail him. For the last, as he was from obscurity raised, so did he little in all his time that could be worthily praised, being more skilful in setting of a Turnip, than settling of a state; more experienced in correcting the luxurious growth of his Vine, than rectifying those abuses raging and reigning in his time: so as, his small acquaintance in state-affairs, during his Minority, made him less affected to those employments in his riper years. Whereas, if we reflect upon the noble and inimitable exploits of Alexander the great, whose same hath given life to many Volumes, we shall see that his princely Education, gave him such rare impressions of glorious emulation in his father Philip, as it raised him to those hopes he afterwards attained. For where was that Enemy he encountered with, that he overcame not? Quint. Curt. Plutarch. in vit. Alex. that City he besieged and won not? that Nation he assailed and subdued not? yet who more mildly affected, though a Soldier; or more humble-minded, though a Conqueror? which may appear by that answer of this invincible Chieftain to his Mother; who desirous to execute an innocent harmless man, the better to prevail with him, remembered him, that herself for the space of nine months had carried him in her womb, and for that reason he must not say her nay. But what replied he? Ask● (saith he) good mother some other gift of me: for the life of a Man can be recompensed by no benefit. Hominis ●●im solus xullo beneficio persotur. Behold a princely disposition lively charactered, having an eye no less to saving than subduing; to retain mercy than to gain a victory; to preserve the conquered than become a conqueror; to get a friend than to win a field I which, as it requires a noble and free disposition, not engaged to cruelty, boundless ambition, desire of triumph without compassion; so questionless it shows a composed, civil, and generous Education: for these exclaim not with the Poet: Seneca. Omnis in ferro est salus: But esteem it the most glorious conquest to be subduers of their own wills, preferring the saving of a life before the gaining of an Empire. Yet do I not conclude these men to be exquisite, as if they were freed from all such insulting affections as usually invade the breasts of these high aspirers: for so should I renounce the credit and authority of all Histories. Themistocles (as I have elsewhere noted) walked in the open street because he could not sleep: the cause whereof when some did inquire, he answered, that the triumph of Miltiades would not suffer him to take his rest: Tuse quaest. l●b. quart. see the strength of Ambition, how powerfully it subdued a man of approved resolution and exquisite temper! Pausanias' killed Philip of Macedon only for fame and vainglory: see the weakness of a high spirit, whom the least blast of flickering fame could so transport, as to imbrue his hands in blood to gain him an infamous glory! No, my aim is rather to express the noble acts & achievements of such whose breeding had shown them as well by Precept as example, what might best become such eminent Personages. Hypocrates recounteth of a certain sort of men, who to be different from the vulgar (being men more nobly descended) chose for a token of their Nobility, to have their head like a Sugarloaf: and to shape his figure by Art, when the child was borne, the Midwives took care to bind their heads with swaths and bands, until they were fashioned to the form. And this artificialness grew to such force, as it was converted into nature: for in process of time, all the children that were borne of Nobility, had their heads sharp from their mother's womb. Stil●●o. Al●●●iades. African Marcellus. For the truth of this Relation I will not argue much, but sure I am, if Art have such power on the outward form, Education which is termed a second Nature, can produce no less effect from the inward man. For have we not read, how divers naturally addicted to all licentious motions, by reading moral Precepts, and conversing with Philosophers, became absolute commanders of their own affections? Have they not (some I mean, and those of place and esteem) even in the height of their desires, How a Gentleman may he best enabled by Education. when opportunity was offered, an occasion ministered, and all motives to a sensual banquet mustered, restrained their desires, subjected sense to the obedience of reason, and became Kings by not consenting, whereas they had become despicable Slaves by yielding? Yes, and in that more remarkable, that they were Heathens, who had no knowledge of God, but directed by the light of Nature only. What then may we imagine might be done by long Education and continual practice, during the time of Infancy, which (as the Philosopher saith) is that smooth and unwritten Table, apt to receive any impression either of good or evil? For which cause, as all times require instruction, so this time especially, because subject to correction; which moved sundry Peers to send for certain wise and discrect men to instruct their children during their greener years. Achilles had his Phoenix, * For Aristotle, howsoever termed his master, is thought to have flourished when he came to riper years. Vid. Ep Alex. ad Arist. con. scriptam, de sit. & stat Ind. Three things moved Tiberius to send Drusus into Illyricum: the first was senescere ●●lttiae: the second, studiae exercitus ●●. rare: the third, simul ●uvenem urbano luxu lascivientem melius in castris haberi re●batur Tiberius. Tacit. Alexander his * For Aristotle, howsoever termed his master, is thought to have flourished when he came to riper years. Vid. Ep Alex. ad Arist. con. scriptam, de sit. & stat Ind. Three things moved Tiberius to send Drusus into Illyricum: the first was senescere ●●lttiae: the second, studiae exercitus ●●. rare: the third, simul ●uvenem urbano luxu lascivientem melius in castris haberi re●batur Tiberius. Tacit. calisthenes; Alcibiades his Socrates; Cyrus his Xenophon; Epaminondas his Lycias; Themistocles his Symmachus: to whom they ought more (as they themselves confessed) than to their own natural parents: for, from them (their parents I say) they received only living, but from these they received means of living well. But me thinks we decline rather to Knowledge than Action; let us therefore press this point a little further, and return to where we left. During that prosperous and successive time of victorious Sylla, Pomp●y the great then a young man and serving under him, received such seasoning from his military discipline, as made him afterwards chosen amongst so many brave Spirits, to try the hazards of fortune with the victorious Caesar. Nor was his judgement inferior (if we may build on the credit of History) to his potent Adversary, though Fortune made him her Slave, triumphing no less in the quest of his death, than view of his conquest. Themistocles (whose name as we have oft repeated, so in all Records worthily renowned) having been trained from his Infancy in the discipline of war, became so affected, and withal so opinionate in himself of Martial affairs, as being moved on a time at a public feast to play upon the Lute, answered; I cannot fiddle, but I can make a small Town a great City. See what long use in experiments of war had brought a Noble Soldier to! His actions were for the public state; his aims not to delight himself or others with the effeminate sound of the Lute, but to strike terror in his foe with his sharp pointed Lance. Milites ira non lyra, sed turba sonat. Nec telis est not a chelys. Now what should we think of these, whose more erected minds are removed from the refuse and rubbish of earth, (which our base Groundlins' so much toil for) but that their thoughts are sphered above the Orb of fear? Death cannot amate them, imminent peril deter them, disadvantage of place or inequality of power discourage them; this is their Canto, and they sing it cheerfully: The only health (what's ever do befall) That we expect, is for no health at all. This might be confirmed by sundry Histories of serious consequence, especially in those memorable Sieges of Rhodes, Belgrade, Vienna, and many other; where the resolution of their Governors slighted the affronts of that grand Enemy of Christendom, the Turk, and by their valour purchased to themselves both safety and Honour. Thus far have we proceeded in our discourse of Education, which we have sufficiently proved to be a Seasoner of Action, as well as of Speech or knowledge. Neither in actions military only, but in all Manual Arts practised in Rome, during her glorious and flourishing State; from which even many ancient Families received their name, beginning and being. As the Figuli from the Potters; the Vitrei from the Glaziars, the Ligulae from the Pointers; the Pictores from the Painters; the Pistores from the Bakers. All which (as we may read in most of the Roman Authors) had applied themselves, even in the first grounds of their Education to these Arts, wherein they grew so excellent, as they enriched their posterity by their careful industry. Cic. in Bruto. But to speak truly of Action, as it is generally taken, neither Speech, nor Knowledge, of which we have heretofore spoken, Isocrates. can well want it. Wherefore Demosthenes defining the principal part of an Oration, said it was Action: the second the Same: the third no other than Action. Sext. Philosophus. Isocrates for lack of a good voice, (otherwise called the father of Eloquence) never pleaded publicly. And Cicero saith, This may be confirmed by that elegant distich: Virtus in●rtis habet, titulum sepeli●e the●aurum; ●irtus amand● parit cu●ta, sepulta perit. some men are diserti viri, but for lack of Action, or rather untowardness, habiti sunt infants. Whence it is, that Sextus Philosophus saith, our Body is, Imago animi. For the Mind is ever in action; it resteth not, but is ever labouring, plotting or contriving, addressing itself ever to employment. The like affinity hath Action with knowledge which is not reduced to Action. Whence it is, that many (too many, heaven knows) bury their knowledge in the grave of obscurity, reaping content in being known to themselves without communicating their Talon to others. But this is hiding of their Talon in a Napkin, putting their Candle under a Bushel; resembling the envious spiteful man, who will not open his mouth to direct the poor Passenger in his way, or suffer his neighbour to light his candle at his: for both imply one thing, as the Poet excellently singeth; Who sets the traveler in his journey right, Doth with his candle give his neighbour light. Eunius. Yet shines his candle still, and doth bestow Light on himself, and on his neighbour too. For this burying or suppressing of knowledge, it may be aptly compared to the rich Miser, whose best of having is only possessing; for that Communicative good he knows not, but admires so much the Golden Number, as he prefers it before the Numbering of this days. Yea, as it is much better not to have possessed, than to misimploy that whereof we were possessed; so is he in a happier case who never knew any thing, than such a Man who knew much, yet never made a Communicative or edifying use of his Knowledge. As may appear by the Parable of the Talents. The Contemplative part indeed affords infinite content to the Spiritual man, whose more erected thoughts are not engaged to the Meditations of earth, but are spheared in a higher Orb. This man's Mind, like Archimedes aim, Plut. in vit● Marcel. should Enemies invade him, death and danger threaten him, inevitable ruin surprise him, his desire is only to preforme his task, and that task the highest pitch of a soule-solacing Contemplation. And this kind of rhapsody, or intrauncing of the Soul (as I may term it) ministers unspeakable delight to the Mind of that man, who is usually affected to these divine aspirations, as a godly Father terms them. Yet these contemplative persons, whose retiredness of estate, immunity, or vacation from public government have drawn their affections wholly from the thought of earth or conversing with men; as they relish more of the Cloister, than society of Nature; more of the Cell or frock, than Community which affords the most fruit; so they never extend further than satisfying their own disconsorting humour. I confess indeed, their contemplations far exceed the worldly man's, Habet ornatum satis illo majorem; habet aliud spactaculum, ad iliud spectaculum te compone. Quod ergo tibi est specta●ulum? Coelum, Angelorum innumera multitudo. Chrysost. hom. 28. in epist. 12. ad Hebraeos. for his are to earth confined; or the voluptuous man's, for his are to pleasures chained; or the ambitious, for his are to Honours gauged; or the deluded Alchemist (whose knowledge is a palpable mist) for his are to impossible hopes restrained; yet as profit and pleasure make the sweetest Music: so Contemplation joined with Practice, make the fruitfullest knowledge. To conclude our Discourse touching Education, on which as the principal'st Seasoner of Youth, we have long insisted; may the first Seeds of your more hopeful harvest (worthy Gentlemen) be so sown, as they may neither by extremity of Winter, that is, by too awful rigour, be nipped; nor by the scorching heat of Summer, that is, too much connivency of your Tutor, parched. So may your Country reap what she hath with long hope expected, and receive a plentiful crop of that which she herself, by hopeful Education, hath long manured. THE ENGLISH GENTLEMAN. Argument. Of the necessity of a Vocation; No man is exempted from it; of Vocation in general; Of the Vocation of a Gentleman in particular; And how he is to employ himself therein. VOCATION. VOcation is a peculiar calling allotted to every one according to his degree. Observ. 4. Wherein we are to consider; First, a Necessity of Vocation; Secondly, no Exemption from that Vocation: and first of the first. In that original or primitive purity of man's Nature, I say before his Fall, there was no such command exhibited, as was afterwards enjoined. For than He was created pure, and deputed Sovereign over a pleasant and flourishing Empire, a delightful Eden, receiving no inhibition after so large and ample a commission, save this, That of the Tree of good and evil, he should not eat of it. But when Adam had transgressed, this command was forthwith directed to him and his sin-stained posterity: Gen. 2.19. in the sweat of his face should he eat bread. Then, then, and not till then began Adam to delve, Gen. 3.19. Eve to spin; inferring that the Sweat of their brows should earn them a Living. There where none that did gallant it in the works of a Qui luxuriant in vermium operibas. Chris. tom. hom. 18. in Genes. Fueruntur quidam ex India vermiculi, hujusmodi facere vestes. Idem. tom. 4. hom. 2, in ●ad Timoth. Worms. There were none that pierced the bowels of the b Imu●in viscera terrae, & in sede manium opes quaerimus; eiusque penetrat luxuris, Plin. hist. Natural. l. 33. Earth for precious stones to adorn them; None that had mind of precious c Quid memorem pretiosorum aromatum, quae ex India, ex Arabia, & ex Perside convebùntur. Sunt si vis unguenta pretiosa, quae non e● Arabia, vel ex Perside, sed ex ipso convehuntur coelo, quae emuntur, non auro sed fide non ficta. Chr. c. 1. tom. 4 hom 2. in 1 ad Tim. Aug. tom. 10. Serm. de Temp. Odours and aromatical sweets to perfume them. In brief, None held it then a grace to have the out-cast d Animaliumque vento feruntur, delitiae. Cl. Alex. Paea. l. 2. c. ●0. Feathers of Birds to plume them; The very excrements of e Et sua vestimenta & vestes stragulas su●●umigāt, & aspergunt: atque adeo ut ipsas propemodum matulas, Clem. Alex, ●●aed. l. 2. c. 8. Beasts to sent them; The bowels and entrails of f Vermium texturae. Chrys. tom. 1. hom. 37. in Gen. Worms to clothe them; The white excretions of g Maximi autem pretii Margarita mulierum conclave invasirs: ea autem nascitur in quodii ostreo. Clem. Alex. Paed. lib. 2. c. 12. Shellfish to deck them. Those Leathern coats were provided to cover man's shame, and to evince him of h Quae peccatorem sactum convincerent. Aug. l. 11. de Gen. ad lit. etc. 32. Sinne. They were provided likewise to repel the extremity of i Di●o ergo hominem, non alia de causa opus habere ve●●imentis, qu●m ut regatur corpus, ad maxima frigora & ve●e●entes oestus propussandos: hic est vestis scopus. Clem Alex. Paed l. 2 c. 10. Verbera ventorum vitare imbrosque coactos. ● ucr l. 5. Heat and Cold, to shelter him against the violence of all seasons. There were other Vocations then intended and attended, other labours proposed and sustained, other fashions used and observed than the vanities of this age, where the Devil that 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, that imitating and apish thing, as Li●el de Imag Hor. l 1. ep. 2. Ornamentum est quod ornat: ornat autem quod honestiorem mulier●m facit. Plutarch. in Precept. Connubial. Hoc ipsum, quod vos non ornatis ornatus est. Ambros lib. 1. de Virg. Ambros. tom. 4. lib. 1. Offic. cap. 18. Phil. 3.13, 14. Damascen calls him, peccati fomenta succendit, kindles those foments of sin to train wretched man to the Lake of perdition. Hence it is, that he sets up that vexillum superbiae, to which all the sons and daughters of vanity repair; affecting incivility before modesty, enquiring after the fashion, not how neat it is, but how new it is. These imagine it a Labour sufficient, a Vocation for their state and degree equivalent, to spend the whole Morn till the Midday in tricking, trimming, painting and purfling, studying rather to Die well, than L●ve well. These are they who beautify themselves for the Stage, to become deluding Spectacles to the unbounded affections of Youth. They make time only a Stale for their vanities, and so prostitute their hours (those swift Coursers of man's pilgrimage) to all enormous Liberty. These are Penelope's wooers, gilded gallants, whose best of discourse is compliment, or apish formality; whose best thoughts reach but to where they shall dine, or the choice of an Ordinary; and whose best actions are but ravishing of favours from the Idols of their fancy. But how far short come these of that Necessity of Vocation enjoined them? They think it sufficient so to attire themselves, as they may become gracious in the eye of their Mistress: whereas that, wherein they seem to themselves most gracious, to the eye of a grave and considerate man may seem most odious: as in apparel, we say that only to be commendable which is comely, that laudable which is seemly: for it is an ornament which adorneth. Now how deformed are many of our raiments drawn from foreign Nations, and as ill seeming our Islanders, as Cockle-chaines Agricola's soldiers? Certainly, this attire becometh not a Christian, but such as are prostitutes to the whore of Babylon. The garment of a true follower of Christ, is innocence, which, because it cannot be simple or absolute, we should endeavour to lessen our imperfections daily, becoming conformable to his Image, who being free from sin, took upon him our sin, to free us from the guilt of sin, and punishment due unto sin. Let us therefore endeavour ourselves, I say, to attain the reward of our high calling in Christ: which that we may the better obtain and purchase at his hands, by whom we expect reward, we are in the mean time to serve him in our Vocation here on earth, that we may reign with him in heaven. The necessity of a vocation. NOw that there is a Necessity of Vocation enjoined all, of what rank or degree soever, we may prove by many pregnant places of Scripture, inveighing against Idleness, and commending employment unto us. Amongst which, that of the Prophet Ezechiel may be properly applied to our purpose. Ezek. 16.49. Behold (saith he, speaking of the sins of jerusalem) this was the iniquity of thy sister Sodom; pride, fullness of bread, and abundance of idleness was in her, and in her daughters: neither did she strengthen the hand of the poor and needy. Prov. 12.11.8.9. Again, in that of the Proverbs: He that tilleth his land, shall be satisfied with bread: but he that followeth the idle, is destitute of understanding. Again; He that is slothful in his work, is even the brother of him that is a great waster. Again, that of the Son of Sirach: Ecclus. 33. ●5▪ 27. 2 Thess. 3.10.11.12. If thou set thy servant to labour, thou shalt find rest: but if thou let him go idle, he shall seek liberty. Again; Send him to labour, that he go not idle: for idleness bringeth much evil. This likewise the blessed Apostle admonisheth the Thessalonians of, saying, For even when we were with you, this we warned you of, that if there were any which would not work, that he should not eat. For we hear, that there are some which walk among you inordinately, and work not at all, but are busybodies. Therefore them that are such, we warn and exhort by our Lord jesus Christ, that they work with quietness, and eat their own bread. Again, that serious exhortation of the Apostle to Timothy, describing the natures of such factious and busybodies as intend themselves to no settled employment: 1 Tim. 5.13. but being idle, they learn to go about from house to house: yea, they are not only idle, 1 Cor. 7.20. but also pratlers and busybodies, speaking things which are not comely. Again, Health cometh not from the clouds without seeking, nor wealth from the clods without digging. Vocation a peculiar labour or function, particularly allotted to any one person. that express charge given by the Apostle touching everyones distinct profession or Vocation: Let every man abide in the same vocation wherein he was called. See here how much Idleness is condemned, & labour commended: the former being the mother of all vices; the latter a cheerer, cherisher, and supporter of all virtues. For wherein may man better express himself than in the display and dispatch of such offices, to the management and execution whereof he was first created? Virtue, as it consists in action, time in revolution, so the maze of man's life in perpetual motion: wherein non progredi est regredi, non procedere recedere est. It is given to man to labour, for life itself is a continuate labour. See then the Necessity of a Vocation, being a peculiar labour allotted or deputed to any one person in particular. Whence sprung up first the diversity of trades and occupations, which now by process of time have aspired to the name of Companies, gained daily new prerogatives, the better to encourage them in their several Offices. It is a saying of Cn. Dentatus; That he had rather be dead, than live dead: meaning that vacancy from affairs, and retiring from such actions as tend to the conservation of humane society, was rather to die than to live. For Life, that is compared to a * aliis micans, consumer. Lamp or burning Taper, so long as it is fed with oil, giveth light; being an Emblem of man's life, Aul. Gell. in Noct. Artic. Add quod ingenium long â rubigine loesum Torpet, & est multo quam fuit ante, minus. Vita quanto magis procedit, tanto propius ad mortem accedit. Aug. Soliloq. c. 2. which should not be obscured or darkened, but ever sending forth her rays or beams both to light itself, and others. Whence the Poet: Life is a Lamp whose oil yields light enough: But spent, it ends, and leaves a stinking snuff. Gellius compares man's life to Iron: Iron (saith he) if exercised, is in time consumed; if not exercised, is with rust wasted. So as this rust; which indeed is rest from employment, doth no less consume the Light or Lamp of our Life, than labour or exercise: for our life decays no less when we are eating, drinking, or sleeping, than toiling or travelling about our worldly affairs. So much of our life is shortened, as we are even in these things, which preserve and sustain nature, employed: thus death creeps on us when we least think of it, suprizing us when we least expect it. Some with Amnon carousing, others with Haman persecuting, or with Senacherib blaspheming, 2 Sam. 13.29. Ester. 7.10. 2 King. 19.37 Dan. 5.4. 2 Sam. 17.23. 2 King. 2.24. Ibid. 3.17. Luke 12.20. Gen. 49.33. Act. 7, 60. 1 Cor. 15.57. Eccles. Hist. Deut. 28.30. or with Belshazzar sacrilegiously profaning, Ahitophel plotting, the Children mocking, that incredulous Prince of Israel distrusting, or that rich man in the Gospel presuming. Few or none with jacob exhorting, with Martyr-crowned Steven blessing, with the Apostles rejoicing, or with all those glorious Martyrs, whose garments were deep died in the blood of zeal, singing and triumphing. And a good reason may be here produced, why many die so woefully dejected: for how should they close their days cheerfully, who have spent all their days idly? If they that disobey God, shall plant the vineyard, and others shall eat the fruit; how may those expect to be partakers of the fruit of the vineyard, who neither obey God nor plant vineyard? How long have many, whose exquisite endowments were at first addressed for better employments, stood idling in the marketplace, never making recourse to God's vineyard, either to dung or water it, refresh or cherish it; labouring rather to break down her branches, than sustain it? How many be there, who will rather employ whole years in contriving some curious Banqueting-house, than one month in erecting one poor Almshouse? How choice and singular will the most be in their Tabernacles of clay, Xista potius quam Zenodochia, regia potius palatia, quam tectain pauperum solatia, erigent. Horti delitiae, Horrei divitiae, elegantiae aedificij, morientium oculis dolores inimicíssimí. ib. Three necessary considerations touching the conveniency of a Vocation. A divine consideration. while the inward Temple goes to ruin? As Charles the Emperor said of the Duke of Venice his building, when he had seen his princely Palace like a Paradise on earth: Haec sunt, quae nos invitos faciunt mori. They draw us back indeed, and hale us from meditation of a more glorious building, which needs not from the inhabitant any repairing. How necessary is it for us then, to address ourselves to such employments, as may confer on the state public a benefit? For as we have insisted on the Necessity of a Vocation, so are we to observe the conveniencies of a Vocation. Which that we may the better do, we are to consider three especial things, which as Scales or Greeses may bring us to the right use and exercise of our Vocation. The first Consideration is Divine, or to God-ward; the second Civil, or to Man-ward; the third Peculiar, and to our selves-ward. For the first, because indeed the rest have dependence on it, and could have no subsistence but from it; we are to consider by whom we are deputed to such a place or office, and for what end. The person by whom we are so deputed, is God, who in his goodness as he hath bestowed an Image more noble and glorious on us than on any other creature, so hath he enabled us to execute our place under him with due fear and reverence to his name, ever observing the end for which we were to such places deputed; which is, to honour him, and be helpful unto others who resemble him: which is the second Consideration we before observed, A civil consideration. Amore Dei amor vicinig ignitur, amore vicini amor Dei nutritur. Bern. Oratio inter maxima charitatis opera numerandae est. The effect of prayer confirmed. Exod. 17.2. and termed Civil, because in Civil society requisite to be performed. By the love of God (saith a good Father) is love to our Neighbour engendered, by the love of our Neighbour is our love towards God increased. Now if we should communicate all that we possess unto our Neighbours, and want this Love, which only maketh the work fruitful and effectual, we were but as tinkling cymbals; we are therefore incessantly to crave of God by prayer, which (as that godly Divine saith) is to be numbered amongst the greatest works of Charity; that he would infuse into us the fervour of his Love, by which only is granted us to attain true Neighbourly Love, performing such works of Charity in our vocation, as we may preserve that union and communion, which members of one mystical body have one with another. And this Love thus planted, cannot be so silenced or smothered, but it will be discovered, and that by such effects as are usually derived from charity: for these will not grind the face of the poor by extortion, or draw tears from the Orphan's eyes by oppression, or sow the seed of discord betwixt neighbour and neighbour by the spirit of Contention. No, as they are placed in a vocation, they will show themselves to all helpful, to none hurtful. They will be an eye to the blind to direct them, a staff to the Lame to support them, a visitant to the Sick to comfort them, a Samaritan to the wounded to heal them, a garment to the naked to cover them, meat to the hungry to relieve them, drink to the thirsty to refresh them▪ being all unto all, that by all means they might gain some. These are the effects of this Love, which with adamantine ties becomes linked to the love of God, and to man for God. The third consideration is peculiar; A peculiar Consideration. wherein we are principally to take heed of self-love, a vice no less fatal than universal. Which self-love as it hath many branches, or Scions, according, to the disposition of the owner, so it produceth no less variety of effects. The Ambitious man being ever aiming, ever aspiring, thirsteth after honour, and never leaves hunting after it, till he fall with his own grandeur. His pie-coloured flag of vanity is displayed, and his thoughts (so open hearted is he) as if he had windows in his breast, discovered. His agents are weak and unsteady; his aims indirected and maligned by envy, concluding his Comic beginning with a Tragic Catastrophe. Yet see how self-conceit transports him, Sycophancy deludes him, and an assured expectance of an impossibility detains him. Now see him uncased; He useth rather with Catiline to speak much and do little, Vid. Sallust. in bell. jug. than with jugurth to speak little and do much. He entertains all with broad-spread arms, and proclaims Liberty, but none will believe him. For how should he proclaim, or proclaiming confer that on others, which he enjoys not in himself? or how should he enjoy that inestimable Liberty, Nec enim Libertas ●utier ulla est, qu●m domino servire ruo. Prima est Libertas career cri●inibus. Aug. which the earthly-Sainted or contented only enjoy; when he is become a Slave to his own unbounded desires, and through self-conceit, is made a prey to his foe's deceit, falling in that lowest, where his expectance raised him highest? yet see whence these effects proceed ● surely from no other spring than that troubled wellspring of self-love, which leaves her distressed Master engaged to sundry extremes. The like may be observed in the avaricious man; (for to these two instances is my present discourse restrained:) whose misery it is to admire rather than employ what he enjoys. The difference betwixt the poor wanting, and the rich not using, is by these two expressed; the one carendo, the other non fruendo. Of these it may be truly said, that their gain is not godliness, but their godliness is to reap gain. And though apparent a Damnum potius quam turpe lucrum eligendum est. Laaert. loss be to be preferred before filthy gain: yet they wholly and only embrace such b Omnes complectuntur artes ex quibus lucrum consequi poterint. Plat. de leg. Lucri bo●●m odor ex re qualibet. juvenal. arts, trades, or sciences, from which a certain gain may be procured. They know (and that knowledge makes them more culpable) that Lucrum sine damns alterive ●ieri non potest. Sen. Epist. 95. gain cannot accrue to one, without loss to another: yet they will rather prejudice another in the greatest, than be an inconvenience to themselves in the least. They have felt by experience, that wealth is a great nourisher of vice, and poverty of virtue; yet will they erect an Idol to honour her by whom vice is nourished, but disesteem her from whom many virtuous motions and affections are derived. True it is indeed, that when any d Cum aliqua species utilitatis objecta est, nos commov●ri necesse est Cic. de offic. 3. Omnes appetimus utilitatem, & add ed rapimur. ibid. Object of profit is tendered us, necessarily are we induced to condescend to the means of acquiring that profit. Again, we all seek profit, and are (as it were) haled unto it: yet this is to be intended such profit, as holds concurrence with honesty. They know, (and woeful it is that they make no better use of their knowledge) how e Lucrum facit homines deter●●res. Polit. 3. Nisi lucrum esset, nemo ●uisset improbus. gain maketh men worse: and but for gain no man had been evil. For this filthy f Name tale turpe lucrum accusatio Naturae est. apud Stobaeum. gain accuseth nature, and reproveth us that our life being so short, should have desires so long, labouring to join land to land, when so small a scantling will serve our turn at our departing. They know how truly that sententious Poet sung; g Recuniae studium, fidem, probitatem, caeterasque bonas artes su●vertit. Hor. Wealth disesteemes all Learning, and all arts, Faith, honesty, and all our better parts. There is a h Voluntas firgendi, & mentiendi est eorum qui opes appetunt, & luc●um desidera●t. Lact. 〈…〉. native will or inclination to foining and lying in all such as seek after wealth, and desire gain. See how servile and ignoble their Condition is, whose affections, slaved to private profit, embrace any course how indirect soever, for self-love, or selfe-gaine! That are ever harping upon that of the Poet; i Clar●●-ubique fuit, fortis, sapiens, etiam rex, & quicquid vole●. Horat. Si for●una vole●, fies de Rhetore Consul; Si volet haec eadem, fus de Consul Rhetor. juvenal. Sat. 7. He shall be noble, valiant, wise, a Prince, or what he will, That has but wealth, no matter how he got it, well or ill. but how far short comes vulgar opinion of truth, whose judgement is in their eyes or ears, not measuring man, nor his worth, by those nobler parts within him, but by his wealth or habit, whose best of glory is without him? Little know these earthworms how they shall be uncased, and with what misery then enclosed. For if they did, they would prefer (right sure I am) the inestimable purchase of virtue, before this rust or r●bbish, which leaveth the possessor as full charged with care, as his chest stored with c●ine. Virtue is of that noble and unconfined nature, as she k Virtus nihil quod extr●se est quaerit. Pontan lib. de Prud. seeketh nothing that is without her; there is her glory. Again, there can be no virtue which is not l Nulla potest esse virtus nisi gratuita Cic in Tus. free and voluntary; there is her Liberty. Again, she m Domat omnia virtus. Sallust. Quicquid homines arant, navigant, aedifica●t, virtuti omnio ●a●ert. ibid. subdueth all things; there is her soveraingty. Again, n Virtuit fortuna ●●dit. Plut. fortune gives place to her; there is her precedency. For o Nihil eripit fortuna, nisi quod ipsa dedit. Sen. de tranq. an. fortune can take nothing away but what she herself giveth. Again, they only are p Virtute qui praediti sunt, soli sunt divites. Cicero. rich which are enriched with virtue; there is her felicity. So as howsoever the Philosopher's axiom be, that riches is a sign of eternal glory; sure I am, that virtue directeth man in this Maze of misery, to the true sight and light of glory. This is that Morningstar sent from that Sun of the Morning to direct us; that Brazen wall reared by that Brazen Serpent to shield and protect us; that fair Lily of the valley cropped by that fairest of ten thousand to beautify and adorn us; that sweet odoriferous plant budding out of the root of jesse to sweeten and perfume us. What skils it then, if we be deprived of all, possessing virtue that includeth all? * Deut. 10.9. Pauperes eligit Deus ad haereditatem regni ●aelestis. 1. Cor. 16.18. Luk. 6.20.24. O mors, quam amara est memoria tuae, homini habenti pacem in substantiis suist The Levites who were chosen for the Altar and for Gods own service, were to have no possessions: for the Lord was their inheritance. Again, God chooseth the poor for an inheritance of his heavenly Kingdom. Again, Blessed are you that be poor, for yours is the kingdom of heaven. And again, Miserable are you rich men, who in your riches have all your consolation. Again, O Death, how bitter is the remembrance of thee to that man, whose peace is in his substance! Hence we see the difference betwixt the state and condition of the wordling, whose affections are wholly planted and placed upon earth, and his whose desires transcend the pitch of earth, having his feet below, but his faith above. The Poet very covertly and wittily in decision of such, whose delights were wholly fixed on mould, Non s●lii virtus, sed etiam ●ama, decus; divina humanaque pulchris divitiis parent. Horsed. lib 2. Sat. 3. Satirically concludeth; Not only Virtue, winged Fame, and Honour too I say; But things divine and humane too, must Riches all obey, But to return where we left, whence cometh this so avaricious and illimited desire, but only from a Self-love which these men have to their own private and peculiar profit? Which that we may the better prevent, being such a shelf as it endangers the ship that cometh near it; we are daily to examine ourselves, and observe what especial affection we are most prone unto: which found out, we are to apply such remedies, or receipts, as may best cure such enormities, as arise from the vicious and corrupted source of our affections. Now to come to the cure; because Medicines provided and not applied, are fruitlessly employed. Are ye naturally subject to vainglory? Labour to suppress those motions even in their rising, by becoming vile and contemptible in your own sight. Are ye affected to wantonness and effeminacy? Impose yourselves a Task, inure your bodies to labour, reserve some hours for reading, as well those exquisite Moral precepts of Heathen Writers, as those blessed Patterns of continency recorded in sacred Writ. Are ye slaved to the misery of a worldling? Wrestle with your affections, entertain bounty, affect hospitality, so in time ye shall become weaned from base and servile Parsimony. To be brief, as Vices are best cured by their Contraries, We are to resist vices, by practising & doing acts of the contrary virtues. ever oppose yourselves to that which your Natures affect most; for this is the way to make you, that were slaves before, commanders of your own affections: which sovereignty surpasseth all inferior command, for by this means you command those, who have had the greatest Monarches in subjection. Thus have we proposed the Necessity of a Vocation, and what especial rules were to be observed in the undertaking of that Vocation: which observed, ye shall confer no less good on your Country, who expects much good from you; than ye shall minister content unto yourselves, finding all depraved or distempered affections buried in you. And so we descend from the Necessity of a Vocation, to inquire whether any from the highest to the lowest be exempted from it. NO less authentic than ancient is that position, No man exempted from a VOCATION. The higher place the heavier charge. So as, howsoever that erring opinion which vulgar weakness hath introduced, seem approved, that Men whom Fortune hath made Great, may hold themselves exempted from all Vocations, because either Nobleness of blood may seem too worthy to partake of them, or greatness of Success (little subject to the fear of want) hath made them too high to stoup unto them: I may safely aver, that of all other degrees, none are less exempted from a Calling than great men, who set like high Peers or Mounts, should so overview others, as their lives may be lines of direction unto others. He sins doubly, that sins exemplarily: whence is meant, that such, whose very persons should be examples or patterns of vigilancy, providence and industry, must not sleep out their time under the fruitless shadow of Security. Men in great place (saith one) are thrice servants; servants of the Sovereign, or state; servans of Fame; and servants of Business. So as they have no freedom, neither in their persons, nor in their actions, nor in their times. First, they, are Servants to their Sovereign or State, for as they are by place set near his Person, so are they with due and tender respect ever to observe him, in affairs tending to the safety of his Person, and general good of the State. They are Servants (likewise) of Fame: for howsoever the actions of inferior men may seem slighted with neglect, or clouded with contempt, they are sure to have their deeds bruited by Fame, Non vestrae magis irae, quom famae consulatis. Caes. in orat. pro Cat. de libertate vindicanda. Vide Sallust. either to their glory or disgrace. Yea, these are also eager hunters after Fame, preferring opinion before all other inferior respects, and wishing rather themselves to die, than it should die. Whence it was, that Anaxagoras telling Alexander that there were many worlds; Alexander wept, replying, That he had not won one: implying, that his Fame, being that which he principally tendered, having scarce yet dispersed itself to the circumference of one world; it would be long, ere it could diffuse or dilate itself to many worlds. Lastly, they are Servants of Business; being placed near the Helm of the State: and therefore like wise and vigilant Pilots, must be careful lest the Rudder of the State be not shaken by their security. Neither is their State so sure, that it should move them to be secure: for men in high places are for most part pursued by many Enemies, whose eyes are ever prying into their actions, which they invert, by labouring to bring the State in distaste with their proceedings. Now what means better to frustrate their practices, than by a serious and cautelous eye, to look into their own actions? Diogenes being asked, how one should be revenged of his Enemy, answered; By being a virtuous and honest man. Which badge (I mean honesty) as it should be the Cognizance of every Christian; so should it show her full lustre or splendour in these persons whom Descent or Place hath so ennobled. Now these Enemies of Greatness, if right use be made of them, may confer no small profit to such as they hate. NASICA, when the Roman Commonweal was supposed to be in most secure estate, because freed of their enemies, affirmed, that though the Achaians and Carthaginians were both brought under the yoke of bondage, yet they were in most danger, because none were left, whom they might either fear for danger, or who should keep them in awe. This we shall find verified even in ourselves: for tell me, are we not most circumspect in all our actions, wherein we have to deal with our enemy? Are we not fearful lest by some inconsiderate or prejudicated act, he take advantage of us, and consequently circumvent us? So as our Enemies may be used as Tutors or Monitors to instruct us, warning us to be advised what we undertake, lest they take hold of us in our mistake. There is also another benefit redounding to us, of which it were likely we should be deprived, if we wanted Enemies, by whom this benefit is on us conferred. And it is this; wanting Enemies, we many times make of our best friends, Enemies. Whence Oenomademus in a faction in the I'll of Chios, counselled his fellows that they should not expel all their Enemies, but still leave some in the City, lest (quoth he) being void of all our Enemies we should begin to quarrel with our friends. Thus you see, how Men of Place are of all others lest exempted from a Vocation; for as Idleness would give them occasion to sin, so by their Enemies should they be soon detected of shame: In maxima fortuna, minimalicentia est. Sallust. bear paupert●● Humili tec●o contenta latet. Qu●tiūt altas● aepepro●cila; Aut evertit fortuna demus. S●n. in Agam. Quiequid excelsum est. cadat. in Octa●o. being more subject to Detraction in those actions which are their best, than likely to plead a protection for such as are their worst. We may well then conclude this point, with that of a true and noble Historian; In the greatest fortune, there is the least liberty; for by how much any man is higher placed, by so much is he more generally noted. We say, that there is required the greatest care, where there is the greatest danger: Now what danger more presently imminent, or more powerfully violent, than highness of Place, threatening ruin daily to the possessor? Where Honour feeds the fuel of Envy, and enmity ever pursues in chase such as are advanced by fortune: whence our modern Poet excellently concludeth; Study thou virtue, Honour's Envies bait, So entering heaven thou shalt be graduate. How necessary then even in private respects to themselves is circumspection; not only in labouring to prevent occasions of fear, Invident Honori meo, ergo invideant labori, & innocentiae, periculis etiam meis, quoniam per haec illum cepi. Sallust. in bell. lug. Cic. in l. de leg. but the final and fatal effects thereof? So may those, whom either Fortune hath raised, or Nobleness of birth advanced, say with majestic Marius: They envy my Honour: Let them also envy my labour, innocence, yea, those admirable dangers which I have passed, for by these was my Honour purchased. Now then, how should such whose height of Place hath raised them above the lower rank of men, imagine that their Place may exempt them from their Task? Offices are peculiarly assigned to all men, and Vocation to all ranks of men. Whence came that ancient Edict amongst the Romaas, mentioned by Cicero in lib. de Leg. (as we have elsewhere noted) that no Roman should go thorough the streets of the City, unless he carried with him the Badge of that trade whereby he lived: insomuch that Marcus Aurelius, speaking of the diligence of the Romans, writeth, That all of them followed their Labour. Agendo, audendeque res Romana crevit. Sallust. So as, there was no difference betwixt the Patricians and Plebeians; inter faecem & florem civitatis (as one well observeth;) but an express task was imposed and exacted on every Subject. Whence it grew that the Roman Empire became absolute Sovereigness of many other ample Dominious: whose flourishing estate (as it was described to King Pyrrhus) appeared such; That the City seemed a Temple, the Senate a Parliament of Kings. L▪ Flor. lib. 1. cap. 18. Neither is it to be doubted, but even as God is no accepter of persons, so his command was general, without exception of persons; Gen. 3.19. In the sweat of thy face shalt thou eat bread Albeit I do not hence conclude, that all are to intend the Plough, or betake themselves to Manual Trades: for so I might seem to press that exposition which a Friar once urged against Latimer, touching reading of Scripture in a vulgar tongue: If the rude people (objected he) should hear the Scripture read in English, the Ploughman when he heareth, He that holdeth the Plough and looketh back, is not apt for the Kingdom of God; would there upon cease to plow any more: & the Baker, when he heareth it read, A little Leaven corrupteth the whole lump; might be moved not to use Leaven at all: and when the Scripture saith, If thine eye offend thee, pluck it out; the ignorant might be persuaded to pull out their eyes; and therefore it was not good to have the Scripture in English. To which objection Latimer vouchafed no other answer than this: He would wish the Scriptures to be no longer in English, till thereby either the Ploughman were persuaded not to plow; In iis linguis quas non intelligimus, surdi sumus. Tusc. lib. 5. Hoc nempe ab homine exigitur, ut profit hominibus si fieri potest, multis; si minùs, paucis; si minùs, proximis; si minùs, sibi. Seneca de vitâ beat â. A resemblance betwixt the offices in the Body of a State, & a Body natural. Ocules ad caelum, manus ad clavum. or the Baker not to bake. No, I am not so stupid, as not to apprehend how several places or offices are deputed to sundry men: how some are appointed for guiding and guarding the State; others for ranking and ranging Powers in the Field; others for teaching and training of Youth in the School; others for propounding and expounding of the Laws of our Realm at the Bar; others for caring and curing of maladies in the body; others for breaking the bread of life, and breathing the spirit of comfort to the afflicted. Whence we gather, that of all degrees none are exempted or excepted: a Vocation is proposed and imposed, which, of necessity must be by one or other observed and intended. For as in the mutual offices of our Body, every member intends that peculiar function or office to which it is assigned or limited; so in the Body of the State (being all members depending and subsisting of that State) we are all in our mutual places or offices to discharge that Task which is enjoined us. Wherein I should think it convenient, if we observed the selfsame rule, which the members of our Body use in the due performance of their offices. For we see not one of them encroach or intrude into another's place or employment: The Eye it sees, and handles not; the Hand it handles, and sees not; the palate it tastes, and smells not; the Nose it smells, and tastes not; the Ear it hears, and walks not; the Foot it walks, and hears not. And so of the rest: but chose, how itching are men after such employments as least concern them? How officious in business which least touch them? The Dray-man he will play the Divine; a Dairy-woman the Physician; the Collier the Informer; the Farmer the Lawyer. Wherein surely, I have observed in the small Progress of this my Pilgrimage, no small inconvenience redounding to the public State. For say, whence sprung all these Schisms in the Church, Experimenta per mortes agunt. Hippocr. these many rents in Christ's Seamelesse-coat, but from those, who of mechanics became Divines, professing to teach, before they were taught? Whence are so many men's days abridged, their easy maladies without hope of being cured, but by means of these Horseleeches, who gain experience by the death of their Patients, professing themselves Artists, before they know the definition of an Art? Whence are so many unjustly vexed, so injuriously troubled, but by these base Informers, who become disturbers rather than Reformers? whence arise these differences, betwixt party and party, but by means of some factious and seditious Instruments, who like the Serpent Dipsas, suck the moisture and verdure of every hopeful Plant, building their foundation on the ruin of others? Surely, as we have Statutes enacted, of purpose to have such turbulent members duly kerbed and censured; so were it to be wished that such Laws as are to this end provided, were likewise executed: for by this means the flourie borders of our Realm should be stored with grave Divines, and learned Professors, leading their flocks to the green pastures of ghostly instruction, not to the by-paths of error and confusion; with judicious and expert Physicians, who are not to learn experience by the death of their Patients; with sincere and uncorrupted officers whose aim is not to gain, but to redress abuses; with upright and conscionable Lawyers, whose desire is to purchase their Client's peace, and not by frivolous delays to cram their purses. O what a golden age were this ● when each performing a mutual office unto other, might so support one another, as what one wanted, 〈…〉; & 〈…〉 ut Hier. ad Pat●. conquerum) scripturarum interpretationem passim sibi vendica●t omn●s, benegat. ruia anus, hanc del●us Sen●x, hanc Sophista verbesus, hanc universi praesumant, lucerant decent antequam discant. See the first rising of all Novellisme and innovated doctrine, how & upon what weak grounds planted, and how strangely by the bellows of singularity increased. Exod. 28. ●0. might be supplied by another. Then should we have no Sectists or Separatists divided from the unity of faith to disturb us; No artless Quacksalvers or cheating Mountebanks to delude us; no factious Brands to set a fire of debate amongst us; no corrupt or unconscionable Lawyers, by practising upon our states, to make a prey of us. Then should we hear no ignorant Laics familiarly disputing of the too high points of Predestination, rejecting the ordinary means of attaining salvation: as may be seen in the Synodals or Conventicles of many seduced souls, even in these days, where some Barber is made a Cathedral Doctor, to improve, rebuke, and exhort: but how is it possible that aught should be hatched but error, where singularity grounded on ignorance is made a Teacher? S. Basil talking with the Emperor Valens of matters of religion, and the Cook coming in saucily and telling the holy man his opinion, that it was but a small matter to yield to his master the Emperor in a word or two; and that he needed not to stand so precisely in divine matters which seemed indifferent, or of no moment. Yea, Sir Cook (quoth S. Basil) it is your part to tend to your pottage, and not to boil and chop up divine matters: and then with great gravity (turning to the Emperor) said, that those that were conversant in divine matters with conscience, would rather suffer death, than suffer one jot of holy Scripture, much less an article of faith to be altered or corrupted. So careful have former times been of the reverence which ought to be had in dispensing the heavenly Mysteries of God's word: admitting none to so holy and high a vocation, but such who had Vrim and Thummim, knowledge and holiness: beautifying their knowledge, I say, with holiness of conversation: being not only Speakers but Doers; for no word-men but workmen are fit for the Lords Vineyard. The like complaint might be made touching these Physicians of our Bodies: where artless and ignorant Handicraftsmen, who perchance upon reading of some old Herbal, wherein were prescribed certain doubtful cures for certain Maladies, will not stick to profess themselves Galenists the first hour: setting out a painted Table of unknown cures to raise them credit. To whom in my opinion, that Tale may be properly applied, which is related of one Alphonso an Italian; who professing Physic, wherein his fortune was to kill oftener than he did cure: one day as he and his man Nicolao road on the way, he might see a great multitude of people assembled upon a hill; whereof being desirous to know the cause, he sent his man Nicolao to inquire further: who, understanding that there was one to be executed for committing a murder, put spurs to his horse, and running with all speed to his Master, wished him to fly: wherewith Alphonso not a little astonished, demanded the cause: Why Master (quoth Nicolao) yonder is a poor wretch adjudged to die for killing one man, and you in your time have killed an hundred. Neither are we less to grieve for the pressures which burden our State by such, who sow the seed of discord betwixt neighbour, & neighbour supporting Champerty & Embracerie in buying of Titles, maintaining suits out of a contentious or turbulent disposition. Which enormities, as they are by apt and necessary Laws thereto provided, duly censured; so were it to be wished, West. 1 West. 2.28. ●d. 1.33. Ed. 1.8. H. 6.19. H. 7.32. H. 8, & 18. El. that for example sake some one, whom the impunity and indulgency of this time hath made too presuming, were punished according to the extremity of the Law thereto provided: for than should we enjoy those happy Halcyon days, wherein Basil the Emperor of Constantinople lived: who, whensoever he came to his judgement Seat, found neither party to accuse, nor defendant to answer. To this end then and purpose tendeth our present discourse, that as a peculiar Vocation is deputed to every one in this Pilgrimage of humane frailty; so he should not intermix himself in affairs or offices of different nature. Mala fama benè parta d●lectat. Sen. Nam vivos interdum fortuna, saepe invidia fatigat: ubi anima naturae cessit, demptis obtrectatoribus, ipsa se virtus magis magisque extollit Sallust. Homines inertissimi quorum omnis vis virtusque in lingua sita est. Sallust. in 2. orat. Virtus per se amara atque aspera est. Ad virturem una atque ardua via est. Ibid. A man may be excellent in one, who cannot be exquisite in many. Let us then so address ourselves, as we may be rather fruitful in one, than fruitless in many. Do we fear by being excellent in one to purchase hate of many? Let us sleight that hate which is procured by good means; for so long as we live here, sometimes adverse fortune will cross us, oft times envy curb us: but where the mind hath given way to the infirmities of nature, and bears with a prepared mind whatsoever may be inflicted on her, she makes no account of detraction; for that virtuous resolution which is in her, doth daily more and more raise and advance her. Neither are we to be strong in tongue and weak in act; as those, whose only valour is vaunting, and honour verbal glorying: for of all others, such men are the slothfullest, whose force and power is wholly seated in the tongue. No, rather let us know that virtue consists in action, which by long habit becomes more pleasant than the habit of vice, whose vain delights tender no less bitterness in the end, than they did promise sweetness in the beginning. Agendo audendoque res Romana crevit. Let our ear, as it is a sense of instruction, become a light of direction: for than we hear with profit, when we reduce what we hear to practise. Thus you have heard both of the Necessity of a Vocation, and how none is to be exempted from a Vocation: wherein, Gentlemen, I could wish, that as birth and breeding have advanced you above others, so you would show such arguments of your birth and education, as may make you seem worthy of a glorious Vocation; expressing such exemplary virtues in your life, as might gain you love even in death. And so I descend to speak of Vocation in general; wherein I will be more brief, because I have partly glanced at it in our former discourse. Vocation in general. VOcation may be taken equivocally or univocally; when we speak of Vocation in general, it is equivocal; when of any special Vocation in particular it is univocal. Without Vocations no civil state can subsist; because Idleness maketh of men women, of women beasts, of beasts monsters. It was one of the sins of Sodom, as we may read in the Prophet Ezekiel. Ezek. 16.49 1 Sam. 11, 1. Prov. 6.6. It was that which brought David the anointed of the Lord, nay the man after Gods own heart, to commit adultery. It was this which moved Solomon to bid the sluggard go to the pismire to learn good husbandry. To be short, J●rm. 34.2. Zeph. 1.4. Mich. 1 6. jon 3.4. it was this which moved the Prophets to denounce judgement upon the flourishing'st Cities, for their security. How necessary then is it for all estates to be careful, lest they incur a heavy and fearful censure, to address themselves to especial Vocations, beneficial to the state, and pleasing to God, whose glory should be our aim, without any by-respect unto ourselves? We shall see in most places both at home and abroad, how such trades or Vocations are most used, as may best suit with the nature and condition of the place. As in our Port-townes traffic and commerce, conferring no less benefit to the state by importance, than profit to other Countries by exportance. Again, in our Towns lying further within Land, the inhabitants use some especial Trade to keep their Youth in labour; whereby they become not only beneficial to themselves, but useful and helpful unto others. Amongst which, I cannot be unmindful of the diligence of the Town of Kendal, and worthy care which they have to see their very young children put to work, being a labour which requires no great strength, to wit, Woolworke. Wherein, so approved hath their care and industry been, as they have gained themselves no small esteem in foreign places, who are made partakers of the fruit of their labours. For I have known a family, consisting of seven or eight persons, maintained by the work of two or three stones of wool, which amounted not above thirty shillings: and with this they maintained credit, living in an honest and decent manner. Whose labours as they were laudable, so have they been no less furthered, favoured, and encouraged by our late gracious Sovereign of renowned memory; who of his princely clemency, hath damned all such impositions or heavy taxations as might any way impair or impeach the free use of that Trade. Since which time, upon renuall of their Charter, his Sacred Majesty hath been lately pleased, not only to enlarge their Liberties, but likewise to dignify their magistracy with a title of more eminence: which had it stood with his princely pleasure, might have received high improvement by creation of a Burgess. Albeit now of late, the Town of Kendal, so famous for Woolwork, by reason of a late decrease or decay of trade in those parts, is grown no less penurious than populous: so as (with grief I speak it) such inhabitants as formerly by their pain & industry were able to give an alms at their door, are now forced to beg their alms from door to door. The redress whereof, as it hath been by the Prince and those prudent guides and guardians of our State, the Lords of his Privy Council, duly intended; so no doubt, but by their wise care it shall be accordingly effected, and those poor people after so many miseries sustained, wholly relieved; to the advancement of God's glory, the supportance of many a needful family, and the succeeding renown of his Majesty, to whom every subject oweth his life, love and loyalty. The like commendation I could give to the Copperworkes used in the North; more especially about Keswicke, where divers Dutchmen being planted, have for many years expressed no less judgement than industry in sundry excellent and choice experiments, which to their succeeding fame may perpetuate their memory. For these, like cunning and experienced Artisans, have to do in the bowels of the earth, whence they dig copper, Hinc alij aliis artib●s incumbunt; high in mari navigantes, high in Mentes p●scantes et pastinantes, etc. Vis●e procedere in Thessaliam? artem disces hortulanam; visne in Barbariam? arrem experieris equesirem. which with incredible pains they bring to the Hammer. For so steep, ragged and cliffy are those mountains, whence their Copper is digged, as it might seem a matter of impossibility to effect so intricate a work; but so infatigable are the Labourers which they employ, as their patience in suffering is no less to be commended, than their skill in contriving to be admired. But to speak in general of all vocations, sciences, or Mysteries: we are ever to observe the place and convenience, hereof, that we may the better appropriate some especial vocation according to the necessity and convenience of the place. As Shipmasters in places of traffic and Navigation; Shepherds, Graziers, and Farmers, in places of plantation: according to that ancient Proverb; gardiner's in Theffalie, Horse-coursers in Barbary. Now if you should object touching the difference of vocations, that some are more necessary than others: yea such as now seem most necessary, have formerly (as may appear) been held Trades of indifferency: my answer is, I grant it; yet not so altogether as some might object against the necessity of a Smith's trade, by alleging that of the Prophet Samuel; 1 Sam. 13.19 There was no Smith found throughout all the Land of Israel. For this did not infer that Smiths were of least use or employment in Israel, but rather the necessity of them made so few amongst them, as may appear in the latter part of the verse: For the Philistines said, lest the Hebrews make them swords or spears. Here see the cause why there were so few in Israel, because they would have been most useful and behooveful to the people of Israel. For this cause were they banished, slaughtered and deprived of all means to assist their distressed Country, 1 Sam. 13.6. whose people hid themselves in caves, and in hold, and in rocks, and in towers, and in pits. For the first Invention of trades, arts or sciences, as they were in time and by degrees brought to perfection, so had they proper and peculiar persons, from whom they received their beginning and foundation. For example, tillage from Cain, pasturage from Abel, vintage from Noah, navigation from Zebulun, Gen. 4.2. Gen. 9.20. Gen. 49.13. Gen. 4.22. brazery or Smith-worke from Tubal-Cain, music from jubal; which by succession of time came to such perfection as they are now in. The Satire at the first sight of fire, would needs have kissed and embraced it, but Prometheus checked him. So highly admired were things unknown, and so familiarly employed being once known. The like we may imagine at the first rising of Trades, what difficulties attended them, and what imperfections were incident to them; being like the Bear's whelp, ever in licking, before they came to perfecting, ever in renewing & furbushing, ere they came to such furnishing, as they now express. Yea, if we should make recourse to all such Scholastic sciences or vocations (if I may so term them) as have the name of Liberal Sciences: we shall find that in their infancy or minority, there were many defects and blemishes in them, having not as than attained that height or growth, which they have acquired at this day. For than we had not a Quintilian to play the Grammarian; a subtle Scotus to play the Logician, an eloquent Cicero for a Rhetorician; a learned Euclid for a Mathematician; a studious Archimedes for a Geometrician; a famous Hypocrates to renown a Physician; a sense-ravishing Orpheus to eternize the Musician. Many conclusions were then to be sought and explored, ere such perfection as we now enjoy could be attained. For to instance Grammar; how long may we imagine, Grammar. and tedious might the task be, ere so many rules could be so aptly digested, and disposed? how long before such rules could be by authority of so innumerable Authors approved? how long being approved, before they could so generally and without opposition be received? Logic. Sera cogitatis quae à clave artis reseratur Arist. in poster. The like may be spoke of Logic, which is rightly termed the Lock of Knowledge, opened by the Key of Art: what subtle and intricate Sophisms? what formal and effectual conclusions? what rules of art to direct them in the main current of their proceedings? Those four Questions produced by Arist. in his posteriors, how fit are they to be observed in the managing of every Subject: Quid nominis, quid rei, qualis sit, propter quid sit? likewise his distinction or division of places; Topical, or Rhetorical, called insita, being intrinsically ingraffed or inserted in the Nature of the thing: also places derived ab antecedentibus & consequentibus; as the Sun hath shown, whence it followeth, that day hath appeared; the Sun is set, whence it followeth that Night is approached. Also places derived à comparatione majorum minorum & aequalium. As if Christ washed his Disciples feet, much more ought we to do the same one to another. Likewise in those Local circumstances, very necessary for searching and discussing the truth of any matter; Who, what, what time, and where, How, why, what helps were there? Why; Vid. Meleb. Can. in l. 12. de locis Theologicis. as the offence was more blame-worthy in judas than if it had been done by any other, being his Disciple; and so of the rest. All which, as they tend properly to the office of an Orator; so minister they no little elegancy even to our familiar discourse: wherein we most commonly (though we observe not so much) use some one of these places, to aggravate or extennate the Subject whereof we speak. The like also of Rhetoric; Rhetoric. what persuasive inductions, what powerful arguments are there to be found? The definition whereof, if we should express in one word, it is, To make great things little, and little things great. After Aeschines being banished Athens, was come to Rhodes, he declared in an Oration the cause of his exile, the Rhodians no less satisfied with the pregnancy of his reasons, than ravished with the elegancy of his phrase, wondered at the Athenians who had banished him so undeservedly. O (quoth he) you heard not what Demosthenes answered to my reasons! Eras. lib. 8. apotheg. This moved Philip of Macedon in a treaty of league betwixt him and the Olynthians, to demand of them their Orators: little doubting, but having once deprived them of the Stays and supporters of their State, Quint. Curt. by receiving them as Hostages, he might quickly receive the Province into his subjection. It is above imagination to consider of the rare effects derived from moving or persuasive Rhetoricians, resembling in some sort passionate Actors; — Si vis me flere, delendumest Primum ipst tibi, tunc tua me infortunia laedunt. Hor. de art. poet. Cic. lib. 3. de Orat. Who to move passion, such an order keep, As they feign tears to make their hearers weep. Now the difference betwixt Actors and Orators (saith Cicero) is, that the one intermixeth levity in their action, to make their hearers laugh; The other use all gravity, authority, and serious arguments (with a graceful insinuation) to persuade. Wherefore those are accounted ridiculous, these esteemed prudent. Neither is this excellency of theirs only in passion or efficacy of persuasion, but in a subject of more admiration: which is, they can make black seem white, and cloth that which in the eye of the world seems most deformed, in a beautiful habit Which Art Polycrates that Athenian Rhetorician had, who praised the Tyrant Busyris; the like had Seneca, who praised the dissembling Claudius; Favorinus, who commended the deformed Thersites; no less elegant was * Maro both a Poet & an excellent Orarator; who with Isocrates for lack of a good voice (otherwise called the Father of Eloquence) never pleaded publicly: therefore was it said of his Orations, that if Maro penned them, and Cicero pronounced them, nothing could be more exquisite. Mathematics. Maro in commending his Gnat; Lucian a Fly; Apuleius his Ass; also Favorinus a Quartan Ague; Glauco, Injustice; Synesius, Baldness; Lucian, Flattery; Erasmus, Folly. Which elegant Paradoxes they have so wittily and perswasively handled, as they gained more approbation, than if they had been Themes commonly received: for there is no discourse, of what nature soever, that can comparably delight the Reader or Hearer, like these which seem opposite to opinion generally received, yet by strong and effectual reasons use to be proved and maintained. Neither was this Rhetorical Art less required in the Camp than in the Court: for if we should peruse Histories both of ancient and succeeding times, we should find what rare effects were brought to pass by this smooth inducing Art of Rhetoric. How Soldiers became animated by hearing their Leader play the Orator, in extenuating the Enemy's power, in proposing assured hopes of victory, and putting them in mind of their Ancestors glory; Again, in showing them the benefit of a rich booty, promising them much honour if they live, and no less memory of their valour if they should die. The like (to descend to all those Arts whereof we have formerly spoken) may be said of the rare and admirable effects of the Mathematics: what singular Conclusions have been drawn from thence by the Line of Art? What Secrecies above humane conceit have been drained and derived from that mysterious knowledge? Wherein many have offended rather by being too curious, than by being too little solicitous. Libenter ignoro quod me scire. Deus noluit. Caetera quidem nescio, hoc autem scio, quòd dii oderint curies●s. Euclid Compescat igitur se humana temeritas, & id quod non est, non quaerat, ne illud quod est, non inveniat. Maxim. Serm. 23. Geometry. Vid Plut. in vit. Marcel. L. Flor l. 2 c. 6. Physic. Whence it was, that Euclid being demanded by one too inquisitive in the secrecies of Heaven, touching a question, which (as he thought) was more profound than profitable, he answered; Surely, I know not this, but thus much I know, that God hateth such as are curious searchers after his secrets. I might here produce the Basis on which the study of the Mathematics is grounded, as also the exquisite and admirable effects or conclusions from thence derived, but I hasten to the rest. The power of Geometry was shown sufficiently in that studious Artist Archimedes, who by his own proper power repelled the whole force of Marcellus and all his Army, laying siege to Syracuse: so as it was imagined that this one man did more good in the defence of the city by his Art, than all the rest of the inhabitants did by the force of Arms. Neither had Marcellus (as it was generally thought) in long time prevailed, although the City was in most places razed and ruined, if it had not been by false and treacherous means privately yielded and betrayed. Where this Mirror of his time, the famous Archimedes, was suddenly in his study surprised, and by a common soldier (much against Marcellus will) cruelly murdered. Touching Physic, what rare cures have been wrought by such excellent and expert Artists as have professed this knowledge? It is wonderful to read, what perfection Mithridates attained in this profession, being the first that found and gave name to that known receipt against all poison, Mithridate: with which he so enured his body, to repel the force of poison; Vid. App. Al. as in his ebb and decrease of fortune, when he had lost in one hour what he had in so many years gained, being deprived of all means to cure his misery, he laboured to find a way to end his misery, and that was to deprive himself of life; which the better to effect, he drunk poison; but so strongly had his former receipts fortified his body against such baneful effects, as it would not work, nor as he expected, produce that tragical issue with him. The rare cures of Dioscorides; the admirable experiments of Hypocrates, Hypocrates. to them that shall but peruse their Works, will confirm the excellency of this Art: L. Flor. l. 3. c. 5. where the One concludeth, that Art is long, Life short, Experience deceiving: implying, that so rare an Art could not be attained, but by much industry; Life being so short, and a very Emblem of frailty, was to be used tenderly; and Experience being so deceiving, was to be put in practice carefully. They give us this precept; in sickness to respect health principally, and in health action. Health, that we might might be made for action; Action, that we might the better preserve our health. Music. Lastly Music, the first beginning or invention whereof, as it merits admiration; so the perfection of it, at this day deserves applause: Finding an open Torteise on the ground, From it the Art of Music first was found. So observeth Du Bartas; which indeed may rather be limited to one kind of Instrument, whereto the Torteise may seem to have resemblance, that is, the Lute. Pythagoras' chanced once into a company of Drunkards, where a Musician ruled their lascivious Banquet: he presently commanded him to change his harmony with a Dorion, (or an heavier tone) and so with this tragic melody moved them to cast off their garlands, ashamed of whatsoever they had done, being brought by the accent of grave and solemn Music to sobriety. Whence it was, that Aristotle forbiddeth in his Commonwealth, certain lascivious Music, & alloweth the Doricall, which is of another kind. The Arcadians by Music were transformed from savage and barbarous people to civility, and transported (as it were) from the violent current of natural cruelty, Vt lyram vel citharam percu●iat, etc. to affability and courtesy. Shall we descend to some diviner effects of Music, confirmed by holy Writ? Saul being vexed with an evil spirit, when David played upon his Harp, he was comforted, and the evil spirit departed. Music causeth mirth and moans; divine mirth, as appeareth in Solomon's Songs; a holy Turtle-like moan, 1 Sam. 16.23. Music hath a different working Melody, Mirth & Melancholy. 2 King. 3.15. Exod. 15.20. judith 16.2. judg. 5.1. Aug. Conf. lib. 10. cap. 33. as appeareth in jeremy's lamentable Threnes, David's Penitential Psalms. Elizeus prepared his spirit to receive the influence of prophecy by Music. When Israel had passed the Red-sea, Moses with the men, and Miriam the prophetess, sister of Aaron, with the women, sung Panegyries of praise to God, with Hymns and Musical Instruments. The like did judith, when she had vanquished Holofernes. So did Deborah, when Sisera was discomfited. Augustine reports of himself, what comfort he conceived at the beginning of his Conversion; what tears he shed, and how he was inwardly moved with the harmony and melody which was used in Churches: yet thought that holy Father (as he rightly thought) that he offended when he was delighted more with the note and melody of the song, than sense of the Psalm: and therefore highly commendeth Saint Athanasius, Qui tam modic●flexu vocis faciebat sonare Lectorem Psalmi, ut prenu●tianti vicinior esset quam canenti. ibid. who caused the reader of the Psalm to sound out the words with so small a forcing of his voice, as it seemed rather like one that did pronounce it, than one that did sing it. But I fear me. I have struck too long on this string; wherefore, lest I should wrong your generous patience too much, for whom I addressed myself at first to this Task: I purpose now to descend from speaking of Vocation in general, to speak of the Vocation of a Gentleman in particular; hoping to make amends by refreshing you in this, whose patience I have so much tired in the other. NOw are we to address ourselves in a more restrained and particular discourse, The Vocation of a Gentleman in particular. to propose a Gentleman his Vocation; which, perchance, by our nicer and more curious Gallants, whose sense consists in sent, will be distasted and dispalated: but to such, whose understanding consists not in Perfumes, nor tie themselves, to the vain garb of compliment, as the only posture whereon Gentry relies, these ensuing Observations will not (I assure me) seem altogether unwelcome. Quae retro sunt oblivisci, & ad ea quae antè sunt Apostolum sequi. Epist. 15. 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 Dial. 11. Exod. 24.14. Gen. 28.12. Psal. 15.2. 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉. 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉. Saint Bernard writing to one Haimericus, Chancellor of Rome, in his very first salutation, without further insinuation, Wisheth him to forget those things which are behind, and to follow the Apostle to those things which are before. Which no man can do, that either stands still, or is idle. Wherefore Hermes saith generally, Nothing in the whole world is altogether idle. The Wiseman hath allowed a time for every thing else, but for idleness he hath allowed no time. Moses Ark had rings, and bars within the rings, to signify that it was not made to stand still, but to be removed from place to place. Jacob's Ladder had staves, upon which he saw none standing still; but all either ascending or else descending by it. Ascend you likewise to the top of the Ladder, to heaven, and there you shall hear one say, My Father doth now work, and I work also. Whereupon Basil noteth, that King David having first said, Lord, who shall dwell in thy Tabernacle? adds then, not he that hath wrought righteousness heretofore, but he that doth now work righteousness; even as Christ saith, My father doth now work, and I work also. Descend you likewise to the foot of the Ladder, to the earth, and there you shall hear that Figtree accursed, which did bear leaves and no fruit. 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉. Whereupon Theophylact noteth, that john Baptist having first said, The axe is laid to the root of the tree; adds then, Not every tree that hath not brought forth good fruit heretofore: but, every tree that doth not now bring forth good fruit shall be cut down, even as that fruitless Figtree was cut down, and cast into the fire. Therefore we must so walk, as God seeing our continual fruitfulness, may say of us, I see men walking like trees. Mark. 8.24. 1 Cor. 15.58. Men walk like Trees, when men are never idle, but always abounding in the work of the Lord: As the Tree of Life every month bringeth forth twelve manner of fruits. But that I may the better proceed in that which I have taken in hand; you are to know, that the life of man is either active or contemplative, so as all our employments have relation to the one, or to the other. Which two were represented in Mary and Martha. Luke 10.39. The One whereof was very attentive, sitting at jesus feet, and heard his preaching: but Martha was cumbered about much serving. The former sitting at jesus feet, 40. hearing him preaching, may signify likewise the spiritual man, whose actions, affections, motions and intentions, are wholly bend to the service of God, leaving all things to gain him, who left his life upon the Cross to save him, The latter being cumbered about many things, signifies the natural man, who betakes himself to the employments of this life, ministering to the necessity of his family, labouring with his own hands to get him a competent living. Neither are these to be divided one from the other, partaking indeed so nearly one of another. For as we are not altogether to imitate Hermit or Anchorite in being wholly retired from the world; so like the Libertine or loose worldling are we not too much to be cumbered or entangled with the world. For the First, as it implies a kind of hate to humane society; so the Latter infers our too much care to the things of the Body. Now to observe that golden means, which may free us from being taxed by the one, or tainted with the other: I do think it fitting, that Gentlemen should be sociably affected, ever with a reservancy, with whom they keep company; likewise from worldly affections weaned, that being on earth they may have their minds seated above: being (I mean) so free in the inward man, as rather than they will slave the noblest motions of the soul to the unworthy bondage of the body, they will endure want, contempt, or whatsoever the blind world can lay upon them. The Vocation of a Gentleman, The Vocation of a Gentleman hath relation to employment public or private. without more curiosity of division, is either public or private. Public, when employed in affairs of State, either at home or abroad: at home, either in advising or acting; abroad, as by way of embassage, or personal exploits in the field. Private, when in domestic business he is detained, as in ordering his household; or if not as yet attained to the name of Housholder, in labouring to know such things as may ripen his understanding when he comes unto it. Touching the First, to wit, Public affairs of State; as all are not fit for such a charge or burden; so there is a necessity enjoined such, who are able to undertake so great and weighty a Task, to submit themselves willingly to the command of their Sovereign, whensoever his pleasure shall be to make trial of their sufficiency in affairs of State. In the carriage whereof, divers necessary cautions have been formerly observed by Statesmen. As first, to avoid all occasions of distrust, never to show too much inwardness with foreign States: for this may beget a suspect in your Prince, that your aims are neither fair nor loyal. It was this which broke Byron's neck, Objections framed against Byron, set his Treaty with foreign States. being accused to have had conference with one Picote, borne at Orleans, and fled into Flanders to have intelligence with the Archduke, to which Picote he had given an hundred and fifty crowns for two voyages to that effect. Likewise, it was objected against him, that he had treated with the Duke of Savoy three days after his coming to Paris. Likewise, the intelligence he had from the Duke of Savoy in the taking of Bourges, giving him advice to attempt against the King's Army. Likewise, that he should bring the King before S. Katherine's to be slain there: and to that end had written to the Governor, giving him some tokens to know his Majesty. Likewise, that he had sent La Fin to treat with the Duke of Savoy, and the Count of Fuentes. To which, although he replied, and in some sort purged himself, yet those treaties or parleys which were proved against him, showed him guilty of divers indirect proceedings against him. It is dangerous therefore to entertain conference with Strangers in matters of State: Credulity in two respects dangerous to persons employed in af●sires of State. Credulity in believing the relations of oth●rs. for howsoever your aims may be faithful and honest, such Treaties may be so racked and misconstrued by such as malign your greatness, as they will bring you in danger, if not to final distress. It is no less dangerous to one employed in affairs of State, to be too credulous; and that in two respects: either by being too credulous in giving trust to the relations of others, or by being too credulous in imparting his thoughts to the secrecy of others. For the former, it detracts much from the worth and estimate of man, yea (and if I may so say) argues great indiscretion to have an ear open to all reports, seconding whatsoever is related, with an opinion of credulity. For such as these, whom either greatness of Place by Descent, or some more noble and native characters of personal worth have advanced, need not want for Relaters in this kind, especially if they find them apt to believe whatsoever they shall be ready to report. Neither are any sort of men more subject to the garb of strange and novel relations than Travellers: who may arrogate to themselves a liberty of invention in this kind, by authority. Whence it is said, that Travellers, Poets and Liars, are three words all of one signification. Now there is no means better to avoid the company of these fabulous Relaters, than by interrupting them, or by requiting their Tales (to argue their incredibility) telling stories far more strange, and indeed beyond the compass of common sense: whereof I have heard a merry conceited Tale to this effect: A certain Traveller, or at least one who desired though he never deserved that title, reporting wonderful and incredible things which he had seen in his travel, amongst the rest related this: Upon a time it befell (said he) that I traveled along a certain desert in Arabia felix, where I with others who then accompanied me, were assailed by a violent shower, so as labouring to fly for shelter to some covert, we might perceive a little Coppice, wherein grew great store of Cabbages of such huge proportion, as the very leaves thereof (so largely extended were the spurges) might by their greatness give shadow to five hundred men. This Tale being told, one amongst the rest, to answer his Tale, makes this reply by way of discourse upon such occurrents as had happened him in his Travel, proceeding thus; It fortuned that I with some other Gentlemen of eminent rank and quality, traveled near the Riphean Mountains, in the cliffs of which Mountains abundance of all metals, but especially of copper, is daily found: Now as we coasted along, we might perceive some three leagues Westward from those Mountains, a great number of people beating and knocking with incessant labour, but for what end we knew not: wherefore with one consent we resolved to approach nearer them, and see about what they so eagerly laboured. Where we found five hundred Braziers making of one Cauldron, which was of so huge proportion, as not any one of all those Braziers, though they were all employed in one work, could hear one another strike. Good God (quoth the former Traveller) for what use was so huge a Cauldron made? Surely (replied the second) I cannot imagine for what use it should be, unless it were to boil your Cabbage in. This present and pregnant answer so daunted that fabulous Traveller, as he was ever after more sparing in discourse of his Travels. A Statesman ought likewise to beware of giving credit to all foreign relations: for divers there be who presuming of the distance of place, will invent and vent their inventions to curry favour: having so couched and digested their new-minted New●s, as they pass for currant, at least they seem probable for the present. And herein certainly have many been abused, Credulity in imparting his thoughts to the secrecy of others. giving approbation to what was spoken only by way of insinuation. The second respect, wherein a Statesman ought not to be too credulous, is this; he must not be too open-brested in imparting his thoughts to the secrecy of others. For if we say, that even a private man committing his secrecy to another, becomes his slave to whom he committed it: much more a Statesman, whose affairs have no other limit than the public state, by imparting his thoughts, or rather laying himself open to the trust or secrecy of others, makes himself bound, where he was before free; yea, he endangers the body of the State, whereof he is an especial member, For Cabinet-counsell this may be their Motto; Plenu● sum rimarum. by commending or committing her private intendments to the hazard of rumour, which should not be so much as possessed of the least intelligence given in matters of such main importance. To be full of chinks in affairs of ordinary consequence, implies a great weakness: but especially, where the state is interested, there is enjoined that Comic Impreza: If wise, seem not to know that which thou knowest: at least, divulge not thy secretest thoughts to the danger of discovery, whereby thou puttest thy head under another's girdle. He is my dear friend (saith one) to whom I will impart my inferior aims; but he shall be incorporated with me, to whom I will make known what may endanger me. The like is requisite to be observed in affairs of State: where all Counsels and Consultations tending to the safety and security of the public state, should be laid up as a secret Treasure, and not discovered to every man's trust. Vt Thesaurus repositus. Leporis ventri quam vento vulgi, multò satius mandari sentiens. Iust. Resolution in suffering neither price to draw him, nor power to over-awe him. Excitamur ad meliora magnitudine rerum, Sallust. Herodotus l. 3. initio. Vid. Hotman de Legat. Legatus ipsam Reipub. faciem suam attulisse videtur. Ad virtutem laudesque habendas naturam si●e doctrina, quam doctrinam sino natura valuisse. Cic. This that prudent and politic Statesman, Harpagus rightly understood, when in disclosing a secret of State unto Cyrus that Persian Monarch, he commanded such letters as included the Sum of his directions, to be enclosed and sowed in the belly of a Hare, and so dispatched the Messenger towards that victorious Commander. There is likewise required a noble and prepared resolution in every Statesman: being so affected, as neither price can taunt him, nor power over-awe him: addressing his aims wholly for the benefit of the State, preferring death before his Country's prejudice. Of this resolution or constancy of mind we have a notable example in Lewis Duke of Bavaria commended for his constancy; in so much as being threatened by Albert the marquis of Brandenburg, that if he would not condescend to some reasonable ransom for his liberty, he would deliver him over into the hands of his enemy, answered, Ask that thing of me being prisoner, that thou wouldst ask of me at Liberty. The like we read of Pantaleon, who restrained in most straight bondage, was never a whit dismayed, nor so much as sighed, when he beheld his son Paraxaspis thrust to the heart. This resolution or stoutness of mind, might be illustrated by divers examples of the like kind, but my purpose hath ever been (because these do rather illustrate than prove or confirm) to take them, as it were by the way, but in no case to dwell on them: we will therefore descend to foreign employments of State, as affairs of embassage or treaty with any Prince or State. Now it is expedient that such as be employed in affairs of this Nature, be choice and select men both in gifts of Nature, and State-experience. For in Nature is the foundation laid, which by experience and continual employment in state-busines, useth to be stored, furnished, and accomplished. So as I do not altogether assent to his opinion, who thought that in choice of instruments to treat or negociate by way of Embassy betwixt Prince and Prince; it is better to choose men of a plainer sort, who are like to do that that is committed to them, and to report back again faithfully the success, than those that are cunning to contrive out of other men's business, somewhat to grace themselves, and will help the matter in report for satisfaction sake. For his conclusion agrees not with his premises; For (saith he) If you would work any man, you must either know his nature, and fashions, and so lead him; or his ends, and so persuade him; or his weakness and disadvantages, and so awe him; or those that have interest in him, and so govern him. Now how should a man, whom a simple plainness only possesseth, one whom no diving or penetrating reach enableth, one whom the outward semblance only instructeth, how should he (I say) by working any man, either know his nature or fashion, and so lead him; since his eye can reach no farther than the outward seeming, which as oft deceives, as it receives diversity of habits which it wears? or how should he (I say) know his ends with whom he treats, and so persuade him, since politic men do usually pretend that which they least intent: showing a fair gloss, and putting on a false face to delude, and deluding to colour their designs more cunningly? or how should he discover the weakness or disadvantages of the person with whom he deals, when his own weakness so disables him, as he ofttimes lets opportunity slip, when the best advantage is for him? or how discern those which have interest in him, when his aims are only to conclude with him, with whom he deals, without relation to any intercedent means to effect his business? Neither is it to be doubted, but such whose understanding hath attained a higher pitch, will be as ready to do that which is committed to them, as those on whom a more plainness hath naturally seized: for these will duly consider the great danger they are like to incur, if they should exceed their Commission either in doing too much, or detract from their Commission in doing too little. For in affairs of this nature, especially parum agendum est de proprio, yea, though in the opinion of the party employed, it seem that he could go more effectually to work, Disobedience punished in attempts most successive. than just as his Commission directs him. Manlius Torquatus commanded his son to be put to death, for fight (albeit prosperously) against his commandment. Pub. Crass. Mutianus sending to his Engineer to send him the bigger of his two ship-masts that he had seen in Athens, to make a Ram to batter down the walls; the Engineer sent him the less, imagining it to be fitter: Virgis coedi jussit quibus miserè periit. Plut. in apoth●g. wherefore Mutianus sent for the Engineer, and caused him to be so cruelly whipped with rods, that he died therewith. If disobedience in such affairs as these, being of lesser consequence, seemed among the Heathen cause sufficient to pronounce sentence of death upon the offender; what may they deserve, who in conceit of their own wisdom, dare take upon them directions of their own; without tying themselves expressly to their Commission? And of these there be two sorts: The one, even in greatest and most important matters, will presume to take upon them without direction of Authority: wherein as they commonly err, so they give advantage to him with whom they have to deal, of making his own bargain upon such Terms as shall best please him: for how should one man's judgement equal a whole judicious Council? So as in dealing with cunning persons, we must ever consider their ends, to interpret their Speeches; and it is good to say little to them, and that which they least look for. The other sort tie themselves something more strictly or precisely to their Commission; for these will be loath to digress from it in matters of weight and substance, but rather in some impertinent Ceremony or circumstance: as we read in the general History of Spain, that there came two Ambassadors out of France unto King Alfonse the ninth, to demand one of his daughters in marriage for their Sovereign King Philip one of which Ladies was very fair, and named Vrraca; the other nothing so gracious, and called Blanch. They both coming into the presence of the Ambassadors, all men held it a matter resolved, that their choice would light upon Vrraca, as the elder and fairer, and better adorned: but the Ambassadors enquiring each of their names, took offence at the name of Vrraca, and made choice of the Lady Blanch; saying, that her name would be better received in France than the other. For matters of such indifferency as these, it is not to be doubted but they are left to the discretion of the instruments: but for affairs of State, as they require due deliberation in discussing; so require they the joint assent and approbation of the State ere they come to concluding. THere are likewise public employments, How a Gentleman is to employ himself in public affairs. Cypr●●. 1 Macc. 14.46. Magne, non bene. A●g wherein Gentlemen upon occasion may be interessed, which extend themselves to military affairs: in which, as it is not the death, but the cause of the death which makes a Martyr, so it is not the action, but the ground of the action which merits the name of valour. That act of Razis, in taking out his own bowels, and throwing them upon the people, it was an act (saith S. Austin) that tasted more of stoutness than goodness. For what could that act of his benefit his Country? wherein could it add spirit to the distressed Maccabees? wherein allay the heavy burden of their affliction, or minister the least relief in the time of their persecution? That act of resolution by that noble Bohemian, as it tasted more of true valour; so it reared a column of perpetuity to his everliving honour; which exploit is thus recorded: When Mahom●t the second of that name besieged Belgrade in Servia, one of his Captains at length got up upon the wall of the City, A Friar, who writ divers works viz. De Papae & Corelij, Autoritate. Speculum Clericorum. etc. Zinglerus l. de 〈◊〉 viris Germaniae, cap. 98. In Turc. Hist. with banner displayed. Another Bohemian espying this, ran to the Captain, and clasping him fast about the middle, asked one Capistranus standing beneath, whether it would be any danger of damnation to his soul, if he should cast himself down headlong with that dog, (so he termed the Turk) to be slain with him? Capistranus answering, that it was no danger at all to his soul, the Bohemian forthwith tumbled himself down with the Turk in his arms, and so (by his own death only) saved the life of all the City. The like worthy exploits might be instanced in those heirs of fame, the Rhodians, in the siege of their City: the Knights of Malta in their sundry defeats and discomsitures of the Turks: the inhabitants of Vienna, who being but a handful in comparison of their enemies, gave them not only the repulse, but wholly defeated their designs. This Valour or Fortitude, which indeed appeareth ever in the freest and noblest minds, is excellently defined by the Stoics, Probè def●●rur à Stoicis fortitudo, cum eam virtutem duunt. ●sse propugnatem pro aequitate. Ci●. Salmacida spolia sine sanguine & judere. Si. lib. 4. to be, A virtue ever fight in defence of equity. These who are professors of so peerless a virtue, are more ready to spare than to spill: their aims are fair and honest, free from the least aspersion either of cruelty or vainglory: for as they scorn to triumph over an afflicted foe, so they dislike that conquest (unless necessity enforce it) which is purchased by too much blood. The Salmacian Spoils relish better to their palate: for they are so full of noble compassion, as the death of their enemy enforceth in them tears of pity. This appeared in those princely tears shed by Caesar at the sight of Pompey's head; and in Titus that Darling of Mankind, in those tears he shed at the sight of those innumerable slaughters committed upon the jews. Plut. in vit. jul. Cas. joseph in bell. jud. Clementiam id 〈◊〉 Imperatoris pro inertia ducebant. Ib. Dulce & decorum est pro p●tria mori. Hor. l. 3. od. 3. Now as my purpose is not to insist on the postures of war; so I intent not to dwell upon every circumstance remarkable in martial affairs, but upon the main scope of military discipline, whereto every generous and true bred Soldier is to direct his course. Let your aim be therefore, Gentlemen, to fight for the safety and peace of your Country, in the defence of a good conscience, which is to be preferred before all the booties of war: for as you have received your birth and breeding from your Country; so are you to stand for her, even to the sacrifice of your dearest lives; provided, that the cause which you entertain in her defence be honest, without purpose of intrusion into another's right, or labouring to enlarge her boundiers by an unlawful force. For howsoever the ancient Heathens were in this respect faulty, being some of them Truce breakers, others violent intruders or usurpers of what was little due unto them: we for our parts have learned better things, being commanded not to take any thing from any man, Poeni faedifragis. Cic in Offic. Nulla sancta societas, nec fides regni. Philip. 4.11. A glorious enterprise recommended to the undertaking of all generous spirits. Totum adimit, quo ingrata refulget. Coping with the Persian Sapor in titular insolence, who caused himself to be styled, Rex Regum, frater Solis & Lunae, particeps Syderum. but in all things learn to be contended. But of all enterprises worthy the acceptance of a Gentleman in this kind, if I should instance any one in particular, none more noble or better deserving (as I have elsewhere formerly touched) than to war against the Turk that professed enemy of Christendom; the increase of whose Empire may be compared to the milt in man's body; for the grandeur of it threatens ruin and destruction to all Christian States, drawing light to his Half Moon by darkening of others, and showing even by the multitude of his insolent Titles what his aims be, if the Lord put not a hook in the nose of that Leviathan. Praiseworthy therefore are those glorious, and (no doubt) prosperous expeditions of such English and other Christian Voluntaries as have stood, and even at this day do stand engaged in personal service against the great Turk: for these, though they perish in the battle, shall survive time, and raise them a name out of the dust, which shall never be extinguished. These are they who fight the Lords battle, and will rather die than it should quail: These are those glorious Champions, whose aim is to plant the blessed tidings of the Gospel once again in that Holy Land, which now remains deprived of those heavenly Prophets which she once enjoyed, of those godly Apostles which she once possessed, of that sweet Singer of Israel with which her fruitful coasts once resounded. O Gentlemen, if you desire employment in this kind, what enterprise more glorious? A glorious fight is ever accompanied by a noble fate. If you aim at profit, what assay to your souls more commodious? If you seek after fame, (the aim of most soldiers) what expedition more famous? since by this means the practices of Christ's enemies shall be defeated, the borders of Christendom enlarged, peace in Zion established, and the tidings of peace every where preached. Neither did ever Time give fairer opportunity to effect it, than now, when the very Guard of his person, his janissaries begin to mutiny and innovate, by interposing their suffrages in his government. Besides, in assays of this nature, Non debet timere hostem fortem, ●u● dominum habet fortiorem. Esa. 63.1. Psal. 22.12. being taken in hand for the peace and safety of Christendom, assureth more security to the person engaged: for little need he to fear a strong foe, that hath a stronger friend. Admit therefore that you return, as one that cometh with red garments from Bozra, so as the Devil and his angels like wild Bulls of Basan run at you, you shall break their horns in his Cross for whom you fight. As we have discoursed of employments public, which we divided into two ranks, Civil and Military; and of the manner how Gentlemen are to demean themselves in Court or Camp; so are we now to descend to employments private, wherein we purpose to set down such necessary cautions or observances, as may seem not altogether unprofitable or unuseful for the consideration of a Gentleman. How a Gentleman is to demean himself in private affairs. And first, I will speak of the employment of a private justice of Peace, wherein he is appointed and made choice of, not only to redress such annoyances as may seem to prejudice the state of that County wherein he lives, and is deputed justice; but likewise to mediate, atone and determine all such differences as arise betwixt party & party; for to these also extends the office of justice of Peace. Yea, we are to wish him to be, as well 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, as 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, a Compounder, as a Commissioner of the Peace. Godliness should be their chiefest gain, and right and peace their greatest joy: for such are both Pacidici, & Pacifici, Pleaders for peace, and leaders to peace: Peace-lovers, and peaceable livers. As for the rest, they are deservedly blamed, that confine all their practice not within those ancient bounds usque ad arras, Sic crimine nota crumena est. Quid non speremus, si nummos possideamus? Omnia nummus habet quod vult, facit, addit & aufert. This may be observed in Suits of Law, as well as private affairs of Justice. but with those usual bounds, usque ad crumenas. The old position was was, justice is to be preferred before profit; but now the terms are transposed in the proposition, and the avaricious desire of having never disputeth of the equity of the cause, but of the utility. Kind men such are but where they do take, hardening their hearts against the cry of the poor. If a man come to demand justice, he shall speed ill, having no money to give, no coin to present, no friends to speak, his cause is like to fall. Suppose out of two mites he give one: the rich adversaries horse eats up the poor Clients oats; there needs no Oedipus to unfold this riddle: in the end the poor sheep, that lost but a lock of his wool in the Country, loseth his whole fleece in the City; consumeth what he hath, spendeth his time, loseth his hope, and falleth his suit, be it never so good and honest. Whereas such (and of such we only speak) as do a Deut. 10.18. right judgement to the fatherless and widow, bear a resemblance of God, who is a loving Father to the Orphan, and a gracious judge to the widow. These will not for conscience sake pervert the right of strangers, fatherless, etc. for such as do so, shall be b Deut. 27.13. cursed upon mount Ebal: but these like pure Lamps, diffuse those divine beams of unblemished justice, to all places where they reside, resembling David, who c 2 Sam. 8.15. executed judgement and justice to all his people: or like that prophetical Dove, jeremiah, ever d jerem. 22.3. exhorting to execute righteousness & judgement. Or like that good Patriarch Abraham, ever e Gen. 18.19. commanding his Household to do righteousness and judgement. For these know, how f Deut. 32. 4● all the ways of God are judgements. And, that, g 2 Esdr. 5.40. Rom. 11.33. Psalm. 36.6. just & like a great deep are God's judgements. And the wicked h Act. 24.26. tremble at God's judgements. And the wicked, i Prov. 28.5. understand and not God's judgements. And therefore strive against k Ecclus. 11.7.8.9. Act. 28.4.6. 1 Tim. 1.5.19, 21. perverse judgements. Because they know what l 23.1.7. to 10. equity is to be required in judgements. Having ever before their m 2 Sam. 22.23. eyes Gods judgements. O how precious are the lips of those who preserve judgement, being an honour to their Country, a pillar to the State, leaving a memorable name to themselves, which as that princely Prophet saith, shall never rot! These are they, who have their faces n job 9.24. covered, lest they should have respect unto the person; as godliness is their gain, and the preservation of a good conscience their principal aim; so if there were neither reward here, nor else where, for such as executed justice and judgement; yet for conscience sake, and a sincere love they bore to truth, would they continue in their zealous care to the profession and protection thereof. These are not of that Leaven who turn judgement to wormwood, and leave off righteousness in the earth. For such in stead of judgement and equity, Amos. 5.7. execute cruelty and oppression. These are not of that sort, Purpuram magis quam Deum coleutes. who prefer the purple before the person, the person before the cause; never examining the cause how good it is, but observing the man how great he is. No, their counsels and counsultations tend to the public peace, and the redress of such enormities as arise from vicious humours, breeding and spreading in the State. Now what employment more fitting or accommodate for a Gentleman of what degree soever than this, which enables him in affairs tending as well to himself in particular, as the Stern of the State public in general? Would you see errors and abuses in the State redressed? You are seated where by your own authority you may have them reform. Would you have Officers execute their places under you honestly, being from corruption freed? Your Prince, by especial notice taken of you, hath so advanced you, that you may see all Offices under you duly executed, and where default shall be, have them punished. Would you further the poor man's cause, and see his wrongs relieved? It is in your hand to effect that which you have desired. Would you purge your Country of such superfluous humours, as from long peace and too much prosperity have ofttimes issued? You are those Physicians who may launce & cure those broad-spreading sores, with which the State hath been so distempered. Would you curb factious and contentious members, judges 15.4. who like Samsons firebrands tied to Fox's tails, kindle the fire of all division, and labour to have them extinguished? You have authority to see such censured, that public peace (as becometh a civil State) might be maintained. Two perilous shelves which in danger justice.. Now there are two extremes which (like two dangerous rocks) are carefully to be avoided, lest the precious freight of justice might thereby be endangered. The one is rigour, the other indulgence: I approve therefore of his opinion, who would have intus mel, foris oleum; as well cordials as corrasives: for as some men (and those of the basest & servilest condition) are only to be deterred from doing evil by the censure or penalty of the Law; So there are others of a more generous and noble disposition, who are only to be reclaimed by fair and affable means; & these are to be brought in rather by love than awe. For as wormwood of itself, expels diseases, yet is to be anointed with honey, that the improvident age of childhood might be deluded, and they from their Nurse's teats the sooner weaned: so though this wormwood of rigour and severity be of force to cure and expel most diseases raging or reigning; Sicut absynthiaper se pellunt morbos, melle tamen illiniuntur, ut puerorum aetas improvida ludificetur. Pic. Mirand. ad Hermol. Mark. 3.17. yet being allayed with the honey of mercy and indulgence, it will sooner wean children, that is to say, such whose soft and easy temper is best persuaded by courtesy, than wormwood untempered, that is, than the law to her highest pin wrested. Indeed these Boanerges, the sons of thunder, are powerful in deterring such, whose braving and domineering natures use to oppose themselves to right: for persuasions are as little available to these, as to sow sand in the air; wherefore as the Law hath provided fit means to curb and chastise such, whose obstinate and refractory natures will not by easy means be induced, so hath it qualified or attempered the rigour or bitterness of such provisions, where there is assured hope, that the party by easier persuasions will be reclaimed. For if we will resemble that absolutest pattern or abstract of all justice, God himself, we shall read that he came as well in a still voice, as in Thunder, So as, albeit a Exod. 19.18. God when he delivered the Law, came down in the sire; And the b Exod. 24.17. glory of God appeared on Mount Sinai, as a consuming fire; And out of God's mouth went a c 1 Sam. 22.9. consuming fire; And in God's wrath against d Deut. 31.22. Israel was kindled fire; And e 2 King. 2.11. Eliah was taken up into heaven by a Chariot and horses of fire; And the f Exod. 3.2 Angel appeared to Moses in a flame of fire; And g 1 Cor. 3.13.15. every man's work shall be tried by fire; Yet God, as he is to the wicked a h Deut. 4 9.10.24. Heb. 12.29. consuming fire; so to the godly he is a i Exod. 13.21, 22. Num. 9.15. comfortable fire. Be not then ever clothed with fire; reprove the enormities of the State with the spirit of mildness, which if it will not prevail, unsheathe the sword of justice, that such may be severely kerbed, who by gentleness would not be cured. It is not to be doubted, but you shall encounter with delinquents of several natures: the chastizing of both which sorts is left wholly to your discretion: for many things, though expressly enacted, are in respect of the manner, referred to your discretion to see them executed. Many there are, who will rather die for the act, than discover the act: like Epicharia a Libertine of Rome, who made privy to a conspiracy against Nero, would not disclose the plotters thereof, though tormented with cruel punishments: or Leena, who conspirator against the Tyrant Hyppeas, was not aghast at the death of her friends, though torn with extreme torments, but resolute to the end would not reveal her partners, but bit in sunder her own tongue, and spit in the Tyrant's face. There are others likewise, who will expose themselves to all extremities that Law can inflict, only to gain themselves a name; such was Herostratus, who burned the Temple of Diana of Ephesus, only for vainglory: but to these you are not to use indulgence; for they that brave it in sin, esteeming mischievous practices to be their chiefest glory, are fallen into that gall of bitterness, as in them there is small hope of remedy. Better it is that one perish, Melius est qu●d perist unus, quam unitas Qui malis parcit, bonis nocet. Luxuriantes amputantur surculi, ut genuini coalescant rami. In Putatione sarmenta flerilia reciduntur: ut ca quae praevalent uberiùs fructum ferant Greg. in Mor. Exposit. in job. Nimius amor & nimium odium omne pervertaut iudicium. Chrysost. than that unity perish, and in these (sure I am) that maxim is true; He that spareth the evil, hurteth the good: for it is impossible that any State should flourish with increase of good men, where there is no difference made betwixt the good and evil. Wherefore you are to deal in the State, as skilful gardener's or vine-dressers do with their Vines; they cause the wild branches to be pruned, that their natural Scions may be better nourished. Unfruitful members, and such as are more burdensome than behooveful to a State, are to be purged and pruned, that such whose honest care and providence deserves due praise among you may be the more encouraged, seeing these, who used to live on others labours, duly punished. Yet in all your censures beware of this, that no personal distaste aggravate in you the quality of the crime: I mean, let no private hate or dislike to any person, cause you to punish him, for this is a partial and indirect proceeding, relying rather upon the authority of your place, than equity of the cause. far more generous is it to bury all hate towards your foes, especially when by means of your place, it rests in your power to spare or punish. When Caesar commanded the demolished monuments of Pompey to be set up again; Cicero told him that in erecting Pompey's trophies, he established his own. And no less generous was Scaurus, Domitius his enemy, who when a certain servant of Domitius came before the judgement seat to accuse his master, he sent him home to his master. The like of Cato and Murena. Be your censures likewise free from passion; for there is nothing that so troubles the pure current of justice, or so much transforms man from himself, as giving way to wrath. The saying of Archytas is much commended, who being angry with one of his Hinds, said; O how would I have beaten thee, had I not been angry with thee! Hear the poor man's cause with an equal and impartial ear; let not the greatness of his adversary be any bar to his plea, Malle se inter inimicos, quam amicos iudicare dicebat. Laert. in vit. Eian. Perit omne iudicium cum res transit in affectum. Sen. or any hindrance to his cause: bear yourselves sincerely with all singleness, uprightly without partial connivance; standing for your foe equally as your friend, if your foes cause be as honest as your friends. It was Bias saying, that he had rather be a judge amongst his Enemies, than amongst his Friends: and this might probably be his reason; because his enemies would pry more narrowly into his actions than his friends; and therefore his desire was to be by them only approved, by whom he was chiefly observed. Yea, herein might you partake of a right noble revenge upon your enemies; in showing apparent testimonies of your care and zeal to the truth; in preventing all occasions of scandal; in preferring, justice even in cases which nearly concern your friend, before all terms of friendship; Habeo in me, quod testetur pro me. having the testimony of a good conscience within you, as a wall of brass against all opponents: for hence it was that Diogenes being asked how one should be revenged of his enemy, answered, By being a virtuous and honest man. For the whole life of every good man giveth testimony unto God of the integrity or uprightness of his conversation. Omnis piorum vita testimonium redilit Deo. Cypr. de duplo martyrio, initio. Prob pudor! secundum fortunam aestimatur persona, quum potius secundum personam aestimanda sit fortuna: Tam bonus reputatur quam dives; tam malus, quam pauper; cum potius tam dives sit reputandus quam bonus, tam pauper quam malus. De contem. mund. l. 1. cap. 16. But beware above all things (as I formerly noted) of accepting or respecting persons; for this is the very bane of justice.. Let not the rich man with all his presents tempt you, nor those many friends which he hath laid up in store to speak for him, taint you. Fie for shame (saith Innocentius) now adays man is esteemed according to his money, whereas rather the money should be esteemed according to the man. Every one is reputed worthy, if he be wealthy; and naught, if he be needy; whereas rather every one should be reputed wealthy, if be worthy; and needy, if he be naught. Marcus Caelius was said to have a good right hand, but an ill left hand; because he could plead against a man, better than for him. Be you so equally handed, as poising the weight of the cause sincerely, you may minister right judgement to all parties, being as ready to defend the cause of the needy, as of the wealthy, giving him the best countenance; who hath the best cause. It was Rome's fault, which presages Rome's fall, to be facunda inimicitiis, facunda praemiis; far be it from our Island, who as she hath enjoyed a long peace, so ought she to become more thankful to that God of peace, who in his mercy hath strengthened her bulwarks, enclosed her as a hedged Garden, fed her with the flower of Wheat, making her feet like Hind's feet to run the ways which he hath appointed. And so I come to speak of such private affairs, as require the care and charge of a Gentleman, even within the compass of his own family. How a Gentleman is to demean himself in his own family. 1 Tim. 5.8. Aug. IF there be any that provideth not for his own, and namely for them of his Household, he denieth the faith, and is worse than an Infidel, saith the Apostle. Now how careful should we be to remove from us, so hateful a title as the name of Infidel? Have we not our appellation from Christ? but in vain are we named after Christ, if we do not follow Christ. We were not borne to pass our time in an improvident or careless sensuality; we were not created only to cram ourselves, and spend our days in security; Man (saith job) was borne to labour, as the sparks to fly upward; at least to provide for his own family, over which he is made a Master, by relieving them outwardly with all necessaries, and inwardly with all good and wholesome instructions. Now to propose you a form, in what manner you are to demean yourselves towards all degrees within your family: I shall little need, since the Apostle himself hath so notably laid down every one's office or duty: where he showeth in what manner Wives are to submit themselves unto their Husbands; Ephes. 5.21. ad ul●. and again, how Husbands should love their Wives, Even as Christ loved the Church, and gave himself for it. In the next ensuing Chapter, he declareth the duty of Children in these words; Children obey your Parents in the Lord, for this is right. Then he descendeth to the duty of Parents; Eph 6. ad 10. And ye Fathers, provoke not your children to wrath but bring them up in instruction and information of the Lord. Then touching Servants; Servants be obedient unto them that are your masters according to the flesh, with fear and trembling, in singleness of your hearts as unto Christ. Concluding the last duty with masters; And ye Masters do the same thing unto them, putting away threatening; and know that even your Master also is in Heaven, neither is there respect of person with him. Thus have we briefly and cursorily run over those particular duties, deputed to every one from the highest to the lowest in their peculiar places and offices; where we can find no exemption from the Servant to the Master, Demus, (inquit Aristoteles) est quas● 〈◊〉 Civitas, & civitas quasi magna domus. Every family a private Commonwealth. but that certain particular duties are enjoined either. As every man's house is his Castle, so is his family a private Commonwealth, wherein if due government be not observed, nothing but confusion is to be expected. For the better prevention whereof, I have thought good to set down sundry cautions, as well for direction in affairs Temporal, as Spiritual: which observed, it is not to be doubted, but that God will give you all good success to your endeavours. FIrst therefore, How a Gentleman is to bestow himself in Temporal affairs within his Family. Gen. 28.20. Deut. 10.18. in affairs Temporal I could wish you to observe this course; so to provide for the relief and supportance of your family, as you may not only have sufficient for yourselves, but also be helpful unto others; sufficient for yourselves in providing food and apparel, being all which jaakob desired of God; and helpful unto others, in giving food and raiment to the fatherless, in providing relief for the desolate and comfortless, in harbouring the poor, needy and succourless, and briefly in ministering to the necessity of the Saints, and all such as are of the family of Faith. And because providence is the way by which relief both to yourselves and others, may be sufficiently ministered, beware of Prodigality, and excess, Lest you give your honour unto others, and your years to the cruel. Lest the strangers should be filled with your strength, Prov. 5.9.10. Prov. 6.6, 7. and your labours be in the house of a stranger. Go rather to the Pismire, who though she have no guide, governor, nor ruler, provideth in Summer her granary for Winter. Neither is it sufficient to gather, but frugally to dispose of that which is gathered: This Providence admits of no Vitellius breakfasts, nor Cleopatra's banquets. Luke 15.16. Gen. 25.33. 1 Sam. 14.27. Exod. 14.2. The Prodigals dainty tooth brought him to feed on husks. Esau's to sell his birthright for a mess of pottage. Jonathan's for a honeycomb to endanger his life. The Israelites to murmur against Moses. Babylon's golden cup, to fill her full of abominations. I have observed, and no less admired than observed how some have, consumed their estates in satisfying their appetites, and that only in the choice of meats & drinks; and was not this a great vanity? that those whom meats, though less delightful, yet more healthful, might have sustained, and fewer diseases occasioned, could not content themselves with that which might have better satisfied nature, but to show themselves Epicures rather than Christians, will bestow the revenues of a Manor upon the superfluous charge of a supper. For these are they, who like the Erycthons' bowels, will disgorge as much upon the boundless expense of their own Family, as might serve well for relieving a whole Country. These are they who like the Endive or Misselto, suck up all the native verdure and vigour of such plants as they enwreathe: for by their excess, though their own luscious palates taste no want, the comonalty feels it, when they go to the Markets, and find the rate of all provision enhanced by such, whose Prodigality scarce extends a provident eye to themselves, much less to the behoof of others. It is said of Cambletes the gluttonous King of Lydia, that he dreamt he devoured his wife, while they lay sleeping together in the same bed; & finding her hand between his teeth when he awaked, he slew himself fearing dishonour. Howsoever the History be authentic; sure I am the Moral taxeth such, whose Epicureall minds are only set upon prodigal expense, without respect either of present fortunes, or care to posterity, whose want is ofttimes procured by their riot. To be short, as Parsimony is too late when it comes to the bottom; so it may be with discretion used, when it is at the top: for I approve of his opinion, Nec soràidè custodiat, nec prodige spargal. Sallust. who would have a Gentleman neither to hoard up niggardly, nor lash out all lavishly. For as the former argueth a miserable and ignoble mind, so the latter showeth a mind improvident and indiscreet; both which are to be so avoided, that a mean betwixt both may be duly observed. For as I would have a Gentleman, even in arguments of outward bounty, show whence he was descended; so would I have him keep a hawk, lest his too free disposition be through necessity restrained. So as in matters of expense, I hold his resolve authentic, who said; I will never spare where reputation bids me spend, nor spend where honest frugality bids me spare. It is a good rule, and worthy observation: for whosoever spares, when with credit and reputation he should spend, is indiscreetly sparing: and whosoever spends, when with honest frugality he may spare, is prodigally spending. Now in government of a Family, as I would not have you too remiss; so I would not have you too severe, towards your Servants (I mean) and those who have received their several charge from you: this it was which moved the Apostle to exhort masters to put away threatening; adding this reason: Eph. 6.9. For know that even your Master also is in heaven, neither is there respect of person with him. Therefore it was Saint Augustine's prayer unto God, that he would root out of him, all rashness, frowardness, roughness, unquietness, slowness, slothfulness, sluggishness, dulness of mind, blindness of heart, obstinacy of sense, truculencie of manners, disobedience to goodness, repugnance of counsel, want of bridling the tongue, making a prey of the poor, showing violence to the impotent, calumniating the innocent, negligence of subjects, * Circa domest●cos severiratem. Med. cap. 1. severity towards servants, harshness towards familiars, hardness towards neighbours. Hence note, how in this holy Father's repetition and enumeration of many grievous and odious sins, Deut. 25.4. 1 Cor. 9.9. 1 Tim. 5.18. he toucheth severity towards servants, as a heinous and egregious offence: and not without great cause; for if we be taught not to muzzle the Ox that treadeth out the corn: and that, we are to spare the life of our beasts: How highly to be condemned was that act of Vedius Pollio, who tyrannzed so much over his servants, that he caused one to be cast into a Fishpond for breaking a glass? much more ought we to have mercy over such as partake with us in the same Image, which we have equally from him received, by whom we live, move and have our being. I approve therefore of them, who put on the spirit of mildness towards such as are deputed or substituted under them, bearing with one another's weakness, as those who have a compassionate feeling of humane infirmities, not laying such heavy burdens upon them, as they themselves will not touch with their finger, but will in some measure partake with them in all their labours. But of all other vices incident to masters, there is none more hateful in the sight of God and man, than the unthankfulness or disrespect of Masters towards their servants, when they have spent their strength, and wasted themselves in their service. These like the Greyhound in the fable, may well say, that they see nothing can please, but that which doth profit: when they were young, Invenes amârunt, senes ●derunt. Famulos impubescentes amasse voluptas, adolescentes utilitas, senescentes pietas. able and fit to endure labour, they were respected; whereas now being old, infirm, and helpless, either to themselves or others, they are slightly regarded. Whereas, if they were thankful masters, these whom they once loved for profit-sake in youth, they would now love in age, in respect of the profit they reaped by their youth. But, alas, do we not see how nothing is more contemptible than an old Servingman? He may say he was a man in his time, but that is all. There is no man that will know him, since his bluecoat knew no Cognizance; the loss of his Crest, makes him hang down his Crest, as one crestfallen: so as the poor Lark may boast of more than he may; Alauda cristā habet. Proverb. for every Lark hath his crest, saith Simonides, but he hath none. To redress this, as in humanity you ought, so I know such as are Generously disposed, will: that those who have deserved well under you, being now grown aged, yet unpreferred, may by our care be so maintained, that their service of Labour may be made a service of Prayer, offering their sacrifice of devotion unto God, that great Master of a Household, that He in his mercy would give a happy success unto all your endeavours. Now as the Labourer is worthy of his wages; 1 Tim. 5.18. for, cursed is he that defraudeth the labourer of his hire: so there is an especial care required in every servant to look unto that which is given him in charge. Domum suam coercere, plerisque baud minus arduum est, quam prov●nciam regere. Tacit. For the better discharge whereof, it is enjoined you that be Masters, not to be too remiss in your care, and over-seeing thereof; for much oversight is usually committed for want of a good overseer. Admonish your servants that they intent their charge; suffer them not to idle, but in their peculiar places to do that which they in duty are to perform, and you in reason are to expect. Wherein, as they proceed in diligence, so are you to requite their care with a cheerful thankfulness. If it be your lot to have such an one as jaacob was, (as rare it is to find such an one as he was) reward him not with a blear-eyed Leah, Gen. 29.23. for a beautiful and fair Rachel: I mean, abridge not, nor scant not their wages; for this is a discredit to yourself, and a discouragement to your servants. Gen, 31 38. If he say, These twenty years I have been with thee: thine ewes, and thy goats have not cast their young, and the rams of thy flock have I not eaten. Whatsoever was torn of beasts I brought it not unto thee, Gen. 31.39. but made it good myself: of mine hand didst thou require it, were it stolen by day, or stolen by night. I was in the day consumed with heat, and with frost in the night, and my sleep departed from mine eyes. Thus have I been twenty years in thine house, 40. and served thee fourteen years for thy two daughters, 41. and six years for thy sheep, and thou hast changed my wages ten times. If (I say) he hath thus served you, and shown faithfulness in that charge over which he was appointed, reward him with a bountiful hand, and encourage his care with your best countenance. Whereas, chose, if you meet with such a Servant, Luke 12.45. that saith in his heart, My master doth defer his coming; and shall begin to smite the servants, and maidens, and to eat, and drink, and to be drunken; you are not to use remissness to such a Servant, but to cut him off, lest you give example unto others, by your indulgence, to be of the like condition. In brief, as a good servant is a precious jewel, tendering the profit and credit of him he serveth; so an evil servant, whose service is only to the eye, and not for conscience sake, is a scatterer of his substance whom he serveth; aiming only at his own private profit, without least respect had to his Master's benefit. Difference therefore you are to make of their care in cherishing the one, and chastising the other; which can hardly be effected, unless you, who are to make this difference of your servants, have an eye to their employments. Neither would I have your care so extended, as to afflict and macerate yourselves by your excessive care: a mean is the best, both in the preservation of health and wealth▪ Prov. 27.23.27. Be diligent (saith Solomon) to know the state of thy flock, and take heed to thy herds. Yet withal note his conclusion; Let the milk of thy goats be sufficient for thy food, Hydropten habent conscientiam. Aug. Quanto magis bibunt, tanto magis sitiunt. Quanto magis capiunt, tanto magis cupiunt. Quorum sitis neque copia, neque inopia minuitur. Sallust. Vera inopia, cupiditatum copia. for the food of thy family, and for the sustenance of thy maids. Whence you may observe, that to gather is admitted, so the use or end for which we gather be not neglected. For such, whose Hydropic minds ever raking and reaping, yet know not how to employ the blessings of God, by a communicative exhibition unto others, are become vassals unto their own; making their gold-adoring affection an infection, their reason treason, and the wealth which they have got them, a witness to condemn them. But I have insisted too long on this point, especially in framing my speech to you, whose more freeborn dispositions will ever scorn to be tainted with such unworthy aspersions: wherefore I will descend briefly to such instructions, as you are to use touching spiritual affairs, being Masters of Households in your private families. How a Gentleman is to employ himself in spiritual affairs within his family. Gen. 18.19. 1 Chron. 1.2. Deut. 11.18, 19.20. WE read that Abraham commanded his sons, and his household, that they should keep the way of the Lord, to do righteousness and judgement. And we are taught what we must do returning from God's house to our own: and what we are to do sitting in our houses, even to lay up God's word in our heart, and in our soul, and bind it for a sign upon our hand, that it may be as a frontlet between our eyes. And not only to be thus instructed ourselves, but to teach them our children, speaking of them when thou sittest in thine house, and when thou walkest by the way, and when thou lust down, and when thou risest up. And not so only, but thou shalt write them upon the posts of thine house, and upon thy gates. Whence you see, how no place, time, or occasion is to be exempted from meditating of God: but especially in Households and Families ought this exercise of devotion to he frequently and fervently practised; for a Blessing is pronounced upon the performance hereof, as appeareth in the foresaid place, and the nexet ensuing verse, Vers. 21. Consisting upon a precept and a promise. Ostendit exemplo, quod promisit in praemio. Aug. where he saith; You shall do all that I have commanded you, that your days may be multiplied, and the days of your children, in the land, which the Lord swore unto your fathers to give them, as long as the heavens are above the earth. Mark the extent of this Blessing, for it promiseth not only length of days to them that perform it, but even to the children of them that perform it; and that in no unfruitful or barren land, but in the land which the Lord swore unto your fathers to give them; and that for no short time, but so long as the heavens are above the earth. So as, this blessed promise, or promised blessing, is (as one well observeth) not restrained, but with an absolute grant extended: so that, even as the people that were in the gate, and the Elders wished in the solemnising of that marriage betwixt Boaz and Ruth, that their house might be like the house of Pharez; so doubtless, whosoever meditates of the Law of the Lord, making it in his Family, Ruth 4, 11, 12 as a familiar friend to direct him, a faithful counsellor to instruct him, a sweet companion to delight him, a precious treasure to enrich him, shall find success in his labours, and prosperity in the work of his hands. But amongst all, Nimium est negoti● continere c●s quibus praesis, nisi te ipse contineus'. as it is the use of Masters of households to call their servants to account for the day past; so be sure, Gentlemen, and you who are Masters of houses, to enter into your own hearts, by a serious examination had every night, what you have done, or how you have employed yourselves, and those Talents which God hath bestowed on you, the day past; Anima mea quid secisit hodiè? etc. Quod malum hodiè sanas●i● Senec. deira, lib. 3. in imitation of that blessed Father, who every night examined himself, calling his soul to a strict account, after this manner; O my soul, what hast thou done this day? What good hast thou omitted? what evil hast thou committed? what good, which thou shouldst have done? what evil, which thou shouldst not have done? Where are the poor thou hast relieved? the sick or captive thou hast visited? the Orphan or Widow thou hast comforted? Where are the naked, whom thou hast clothed? the hungry, whom thou hast refreshed? the afflicted and desolate, whom thou hast harboured? O my soul, when it shall be demanded of thee, Quid comedit pauper? how poorly wilt thou look, when there is not one poor man that will witness thy alms? Again, when it shall be demanded of thee, Vbi nudus quem amiti victi? how naked wilt thou appear, when there is not one naked soul that will speak for thee? Again, when it shall be demanded of thee, Vbi sitiens quem potasti? esuriens quem pavisti? Vbi captivus quem visitasti? Vby moestus quem relevasti? O my soul, how forlorn, wretched, and uncomfortable will thy condition be, when there shall not appear so much as one witness for thee to express thy charity? not one poor soul whom thou hast relieved! one naked whom thou hast clothed! nor one thirsty whom thou hast refreshed! nor one hungry whom thou hast harboured! nor a captive whom thou hast visited! nor one afflicted whom thou hast comforted! Veni ad judicium. Hieron. Thus to call yourselves to account, by meditating ever with Saint Hierome of the judgement day, will be a means to rectify your affections, mortify all inordinate motions, purify you throughout, that you may be examples of piety unto others in your life, and heirs of glory after death: concluding most comfortably with the foresaid Father; If my mother should hang about me, my father lie in my way to stop me, my wife and children weep about me, I would throw off my mother, neglect my father, contemn the lamentation of my wife and children, to meet my Saviour Christ jesus. Paratum est cor meum. Ibid. For the furtherance of which holy resolution, let no day pass over your heads, wherein you address not yourselves to some good action or employment. Wherefore Apelles posy was this, Let no day pass without a line. Nulla di●s sine linea. Esai. 28.10. Choen●cine insideas. 2 Thess 3.10 Joh. 14 3. Be sure every day you do some good, then draw one line at the least: according to that, Line upon line, line upon line. And Phythagoras posy was this, Sat not still upon the measure of corn. Do not look to eat, except you sweat for it: according to that, He which will not work, let him not eat. In my Father's house (saith Christ) are many mansions. So that no man may sing his soul a sweet requiem, saying with that Cormorant in the Gospel, Soul take thy rest: for in heaven only, which is our Father's house, there are many mansions to rest in. In this world, which is not of our Father's house, Luke 12.19. there are not many mansions to rest in, but only Vine-yards to work in. Wherein, because not to go forward, is to go backward, we are to labour even to the day of our change. Hereupon Charles the fifth gave this Emblem, Vlterius. Stand not still, but go on further; Vlterius: Luke 14.10. Nunquam ei praeesse familiae, quae parùm studiosa est divinae gloriae. as God saith to his guest, Superius: Sat not still, but sit up higher, Doing thus, and resolving to be no masters over that Family, whose chiefest care is not the advancement of God's glory, you shall demean yourselves, being here worthy that Vocation or calling, over which you are placed, and afterwards, by following hard toward the mark, Philip. 3.14. obtain the prize of the high calling of God in Christ jesus. THE ENGLISH GENTLEMAN Argument. Of the difference of Recreations; Of the moderate, and immoderate use of Recreation; Of the Benefits redounding from the One, and inconveniences arising from the Other; Of Recreations best sorting with the quality of a Gentleman; And how he is to bestow himself in them. RECREATION. RECREATION, Observat. 5. being a refresher of the mind, and an enabler of the body to any office wherein it shall be employed; The difference of Recreations. brancheth itself into many kinds; as Hawking, which pleasure, one termed the object of a great mind, whose aims were so far above earth, as he resolves to retire a while from earth, Vid. Strab. Vid. Plut. Aul. Gell. in noct. Att. Laert. in vit. Cbyl. and make an evening flight in the air. Hunting, where the Hounds at a loss show themselves subtle Sophisters, arguing by their Silence, the game came not here; again, by being mute, it came not there; L. Flor. l. 3. c. 8. Balsares narrat à qua gente Balistas no●men duxisse, verisimile est, jasulandi arte omnium facile principes esse. Ergo, by spending their mouths it came here. Fishing, which may be well called the Emblem of this world, where miserable man, like the deluded fish, is ever nibbling at the bait of vanity. Swimming, an exercise more usual than natural, and may have resemblance to these diving heads, who are ever sounding the depths of others secrets; or swimming against the stream, may glance at such whose only delight is opposition. Running, a Recreation famously ancient, solemnised by the continued succession, or revolution of many ages, upon the * Sicut nostri ab Anno Domini, prisci ab Olympiads in Greece, so as the account or yearly computation came from Races, and other solemn games used on Olympus, Wrestling, Leaping, Dancing, and many other Recreations of like sort, Olympiad 'em stadio, sua comput ârunt ● secula. Lucullian● Horti. vid. Plut. in vit. as they were by the continuance of many years upon Olympus kept, and with public feasts duly celebrated: so in many places of this Kingdom, both Southward in their Wakes, and Northward in their Summerings, the very same Recreations are to this day contained. Shooting amongst the Scythians and Parthians, was an exercise of especial request, as afterward amongst the Amazonites, being women expert above all people of the world in Shooting, and practising the Dart. Bowling amongst the Romans was much used, especially in Lucullus time, whose Garden-alleys were ever stored with young Gentlemen, who resorted thither to Recreate themselves with this exercise. The greeks had a a Cynosargus, locus in quo palestriae exercebaniur; Cerostrotum, in quo eorum corpora ungebantur. Cynosargus, to train and exercise their Youth in wrestling, and a Cerostrotum to anoint their bodies in before they wrestled. The ancient Romans had a b Circus, quia aculeatis spiculis circumclusus. vid. Varro. de antiq. Rom. Circus, to inure and practise their Youth against military service, wherein they wrestled and contended. They used likewise, as the French do to this day, the exercise of the c Haec quae difficilis turget Bagenica pluma, Folleminus luxa est, & minus arcta pilà. Martial. lib. 14.45 Ball, which play is never sufficiently praised by Galen: being an exercise wherein all the organs or faculties of man's body are to be employed; as the eye to be quick and sharp in seeing, the hand ready in receiving, the body nimble in moving, the legs speedy in recovering. That Fencing also was of much use and practice among the Romans, even in their height of glory, and during the flourishing time of their Empire, may appear by that high commendation which Cicero giveth it, terming it, d Fortissima adversus mentem, & dolorem disciplina. The strongest and soveraignest exercise against death and grief. The justs, Tournaments and Barriers (likewise) were amongst our ancient Knights usually practised and observed, both for gaining the favour of such Ladies as they loved, as also for the honour of their Country, vanquishing such strangers with whom they contended; may appear in Histories of all ages. Or to descend to more soft and effeminate Recreations: we shall find, of what great esteem Music was, Vid Plut. in Apotheg. & in vit. Socr. even with some, who were in years as ripe, as they were for wisdom rare. Socrates, when he was well struck in years, learned to play upon the Harp. Minerva and Alcibiades disliked the loud Music of Dulcimers and Shawms, but admired the warbling strains of the Harp. Flat. in Repub. Vid. Plut. in vit. Lycurg. Plato and Aristotle would have a man well brought up in Music. Lycurgus' in his sharp laws allows of Music. Chiron taught Achilles in his tender years Music. Achasia, with Diotima and Hermione, taught Pericles Prince of Troy (or rather Duke of Athens) Music. Epaminondas of Leuctra, was experienced in Music. Themistocles was less esteemed, because not seen in Music. Alexander was so ravished with Music, that when he heard a Trumpet, he used to cry, ad arma, 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉. ad arma; not able to contain himself: so highly were his spirits erected by the force of Music. Painting likewise among the ancient Pagans, was for a Recreation used, though at this day, through the dishonour our painted Sepulchers do to their maker, much abused. Fabius' surnamed Pictor from whence the Fabiuses took their names, was a painter, for he painted the walls of the Temple of Peace. Metrodorus a Philosopher, and painter of Ath●ns, sent to by L. Paulus to bring up his children, and to deck the Roman triumphs. Protogenos his table wherein Bacchus was painted, moved King Demetrius lying at the City Rhodes, so much to admire his rare Art and Workmanship, that whereas he might have consumed the City with fire, he would not for the preciousness of that table: and therefore staying to bid them battle, Such like exquisite pieces may we imagine our rare Italian Iec●ano limned: whose incon parable Art bestowed on them so much beauty, as they wanted nothing but a Promethean fire to enliven fancy. won not th● City at all. So Campaspe pictured out in her colours by by Apelles; and Crotons' five daughters, lively portrayed by Zeuxes, gained those famous Artists no less honour. Howsoever his art was in painting, I cannot choose but commend his quick wit in answering, being by them reproved whom he most distasted; and thus it was. Two Cardinals reproving one Raphael a Painter, in that he made the Pictures of Peter and Paul too red, answered, that Saint Peter and Saint Paul were even as red in heaven, as they saw them there, to see the Church governed by such as they were. This device or invention of painting, was by the Pagans generally, but especially those of the better sort, taken only for a recreation, and no trade or profession; labouring to show their cunning in beautifying, garnishing and adoring the triumphs of their Conquerors, or indecoring their Temples dedicated to the gods. As the Scytheses used to erect obelisks or square stones upon the Hearse of the deceased, in number so many as he had slain of his enemies: where he that had not slain an enemy, could not drink of the Goblet, spiced with the ashes of some memorable Ancestos, at solemn feasts and banquets. For other painting (too much affected at this day) it was not so much as used by any Matron, Wife, or Virgin. Nazian. contra ●ulieres immodicè comptas. Nescit equo rudis Hae●ere irgenuus puer, venarique timet ludere doctior, s●● Graeco jubeas troc●o, seu m●lis vetita legib●s alea. H●r. Od. 4.8. Cor sule Victorem, in vit. Imperator. Studiosus aleae lusor. ibid. Suct. in Aug. whose best red was shamefastness, and choicest beauty maiden bashfulness: only, as Festus Pompeius saith, common and base whores, called Shaenicolae, used daubing of themselves, though with the vilest stuff. But this may seem an art, rather than a recreation; we will therefore descend to some others, whose use refresheth, and recreateth the mind, if employed as they were first intended, being rather to beguile time, than to reap gain. And first for the antiquity of Dice-play, we have plenty of authorities every where occurring: being much used by all the Roman Emperors at Banquets and solemn meetings, where they bestowed themselves and the time, at no grame so much as Dice. So as, Augustus was said to be a serious gamester at Dice: affecting them much, when at any time he retired from Court, or Campe. Whence it is, that Suetonius bringeth in Augustus Caesar speaking thus; Si quas manus remisi cuique exegissem; aut retinuissem quod cuique donavi, vicissem, etc. If I had exacted those chances which I remitted every one; and kept that which I bestowed, I had gotten by play; whereas now I am a loser by my bounty. Though no game more ancient, or which indeed requireth a conceit more pregnant than the Chess; which we read to have been in great request amongst the ancient Romans, whereof we have a History in the time of Caius Caligula, tending to this purpose. This Emperor being naturally addicted to all cruelty, chanced one day amongst others, to send for one Canius julus, a Philosopher of eminent esteem at that time: with whom, after some conference, the Emperor fell into such a rage, as he bade him depart thence, but expect within short time to receive due censure for his boldness: For (quoth he) flatter not thyself with a foolish hope of longer life, for I have doomed thee to be drawn by the officer unto death: But see with what resolution this noble Canius bore himself! I thank you (quoth he) most gracious Emperor, and so departed. Within some few days after, the Officer (according to the Emperor's commandment) repaired to the houses of such as were adjudged, not by any legal process, but only by the Emperor's pleasure, to suffer death; amongst which, he made repair to Canius house, whom he found playing at Chess with one of his companions. The Officer without delay gave him summons to prepare himself, for it was the Emperor's pleasure he should die: whereat, as one nothing amated or discouraged, he called the Officer unto him, and * Vocatus numeravit calculos, & sodali suo; Vide (inquit) ne post mortem meam mentiaris te vicisse. Tum annuens Genturioni: Test is (inquit) eris, uno we antecedere. Sen. de tranq. anim. numbering the Chessemen before him and his companion with whom he played: See (quoth he) that after my death thou report not that thou hadst the better of the game: then calling upon the Centurion or Officer, Be you witness (quoth he) that I was before him one. Thus laughed this noble Philosopher at death, insulting as much over death, as he insulted over him, who adjudged him to death. This kind of game, now of latter years is grown so familiar with most of our neighbouring Countries, as no one play more affected, or more generally used. So as we have heard of an Ape who played at Chess in Portugal: which employed, the daily use and practice of that game, brought the Ape to that imitation, And certainly, there is no one game which may seem to represent the state of man's life to the full, so well as the Chess. For there you shall find Princes and Beggars, and persons of all conditions, ranked in their proper and peculiar places; yet when the game is done, they are all trussed up in a bag together: and where then appears any difference betwixt the poorest Beggar, and the potentest Peer? The like may be observed in this stage of humane frailty: while we are here set to show during the Chesse-game of this life, we are according to our several ranks esteemed; and fit it should be so, for else should all degrees be promiscuously confounded: but no sooner is the game done, the thread of our short life spun, than we are thrown into a bag, a poor shrouding sheet, for that is all that we must carry with us: where there shall be no difference betwixt the greatest and least, highest and lowest: for than it shall not be asked us how much we had, but how we disposed of that we had. Thus far have we discoursed of the first part, to wit, of the difference of recreations: thinking it sufficient to have touched only such as are most usual and known unto us. For some others, which we have purposely omitted, lest our Mindian gate should grow greater than our City, we shall have occasion to speak of some of them, when we are to discourse of such Recreations, as are to be made choice of by Gentlemen of best rank and quality. In the mean time we will descend to the second part, to wit, the moderate and immoderate use of Recreation. Of the moderate and immoderate use of Recreation. Pic. Mirand. in Epist. ad. Hermol. IF we eat too much honey, it will grow distasteful; so in Recreations, if we exceed, they must needs grow hurtful. I approve therefore of his opinion, who adviseth us to do with Recreations, and such pleasures wherein we take delight, as Nurses do with their breasts to wean young children from them: anoint them a little with Aloes; sprinkling our sweetest delights with some bitterness, to wean us from them with more easiness. Neither is it my meaning, that Gentlemen should be so from the pleasure of Recreation weaned, as if from society wholly estranged: for this were like him, who became Hermit because he might not have her he loved. Or like to him who immured himself to a Rock, as if he cared not a button for the world, having bestowed upon butters all the State he had in the world. But rather so to attemper, or allay the sweetness of such pleasures or delights as they betake themselves to, that they be never too much besotted with them. This course that Gentleman took, who, perceiving himself too much affected on Hawking, resolved one day to wean his mind a little from it, by trying his patience with some inconveniences incident to it. Wherefore he set a lazy Haggard on his fist, and goes to his sport: where he finds store of game, but few flights; for wheresoever the Partridge flew, his Hawk never made farther flight than from tree to tree, which drove the Gentleman falconer to such impatience, as he lesse affected the pleasure for long time after. The like I have heard of a Gentleman, who used much bowling, which Recreation he so continually practised, for the love he bore it, as his occasions were much neglected by it; which to prevent, as he road far for his pleasure, so he stayed late ere he returned home, of purpose, so to become wearied, that his mind by that means might from his pleasure be the sooner weaned. But these experiments as they are oft failing, where the mind is not come to settling: so, in my opinion, there is no means better or surer to wean man, endued with reason, from being too much captived or inchayned with these pleasures, than to consider what benefits redound from moderate Recreation, and again what inconveniences arise from immoderate delight therein. First then, let us consider the end for which Recreations were ordained, and we shall find that they were rather intended to beguile time, than to bestow ourselves on them all our time. Though many, too many there be, who will not stick to say with him who sported himself in the warm Sun, utinam hoc esset vivere, would to God this were to live; would to God this Recreation were a Vocation, this pleasure my trade for ever. No, as Recreation was at first intended for refreshing the mind, and enabling the body to perform such offices as are requisite to be performed: so is it not to be made a Trade or Profession, as if we should there set up our rest, and intent nothing else. Consider therefore the Benefits which redound by a moderate or temperate use of Recreation. FIrst, The benefits redounding from moderate Recreation. Sen. de Tranq. anim. it refresheth or cherisheth the mind, accommodating it to all studies: clearing the understanding which would be easily depressed, if either with worldly cares, or more noble and generous studies, wholly restrained. It is said of Asinius Pollio, that after the tenth hour he would be retained in no business, neither after that hour would he read so much as any Letter. Of Cato likewise, that he used to refresh his mind with wine: the like of Solon and Archesilaus', that they would usually cheer their spirits with wine: yet, whosoever should object drunkenness to Cato, might sooner prove that crime honest, than Cato dishonest. So as, whether we believe the Greek Poet, It is sometimes pleasing to be a little madding; or Plato, who in vain expulsed Poets the bounds of his Commonweal; or Aristotle, That there can never be any great wit without some mixture of folly: Nullum magnum ingenium sine mixtura dementiae fuit. ibid. we shall find, that even the gravest and most experienced Statists have sometimes retired themselves from more serious affairs, to refresh and solace their tired spirits with moderate Recreations. The Poet excellently describes a man buried in the deep slumber of contemplation, after this manner; He dies, Horat. ●. 1. ep. 7. penned up with study and with care. So were the Anchorites and Hermit's in former time, being wholly divided from society; yea so immured, as they seemed to be buried living. Whose conversation, as (questionless) it argued a great mortification of all mundane desires; so it ministered matter of admiration to such, who, given to carnal liberty, wondered how men made of earth, could be so estranged from conversing with inhabitants of earth. But to leave these, and imagine their conversation to be in Heaven, Cellae & coeli habitatio cognatae sunt. Ber. de vit. solitar. though their habitation was on earth: we perceive hence, how beneficial Recreation is to the mind, in cheering, solacing, and refreshing her, if used with Moderation. How it lessens those burdens of cares, wherewith she is oppressed; revives the spirits, as if from death restored; clears the understanding, as if her eyes, long time shut, were now unsealed; and quickens the invention, by this sweet respiration, as if newly moulded. Neither is this Benefit so restrained, as if it extended only to the mind; for it confers a Benefit likewise to the body, by enabling it to perform such Labours, Tasks or Offices, Non calathum juno, non arcum semper Apollo Tendit: amant roquiem corpora fessa suam. as it is to be employed or exercised withal. There are two Proverbs which may be properly applied to this purpose; Once in the year Apollo laughs; this approves the use of moderate Recreation. Apollo's bow's not always bend; this shows that humane employments are to be seasoned by Recreation: we are sometimes to unbend the bow, or it will lose his strength. Continual or incessant employment cannot be endured: there must be some intermission, or the body becomes enfeebled. As for example; observe these men, who, either encumbered with worldly affairs, so tie and tether themselves to their business, as they intermit no time for effecting that which they go about: or such as, wholly nailed to their Desk, admit no time for Recreation, lest they should thereby hinder the progress of their studies: See how pale and meager they look, how sickly and infirm in the state of their bodies, how weak and defective in their constitution? So as to compare one of these weaklings with such an one as intermits occasions of business, rather than he will prejudice his health; reserving times as well for Recreation and pleasure, as for employment and labour, were to present a spectacle of Inius Dwarf, not two foot high, Sueton. Tranq. 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉. and weighing but seventeen pound, with jolaus the youthful son of Iphiclus, whose feature was free, complexion fresh, and youth renewing; such difference in proportion, such odds in strength of constitution. For, observe one of these starved worldlings, whose aims are only to gather and number, without doing either themselves or others good with that they gather; with what a sallow and earthly complexion they look, being turned all earth before they return to earth! And what may be the cause hereof, Avaritia bellua fera, immanis, intoleranda est. Sallust. but their incessant care of getting, their continual desire of gaining, being ever gaping till their mouths be filled with gravel. So these who are wholly given, and solely devoted to a private or retired life, how unlike are they to such as use and frequent society? For their bodies, as they are much weakened and enfeebled, so is the heat and vigour of their spirits lestened and resolved, yea their days for most part shortened and abridged; the cause of all which proceedeth from a continual secluding and dividing themselves from company, Domi-porta, Limax; quia limum serpendo relinquit. Vid. Alciat. in Emblem. Aelian. in nat. Hist. and use of such Recreations, as all creatures in their kind require and observe. For if we would have recourse to creatures of all sorts, we shall find every one, in his kind, observe a Recreation or refreshment in their nature: As the Beast in his chase, the Bird in her choice, the Snail in her speckled case, the Polypus in her change, yea the Dolphin is said to sport and play in the water. For as * Revel. 4.11. All things were created for God's pleasure, so hath he created all things to recreate and refresh themselves in their own nature. Thus far have we discoursed of moderate Recreation, and of the benefits which redound from it; being equally commodious to the mind as well as the body, the body as well as the mind: to the mind in refreshing, cherishing and accommodating it to all studies; to the understanding, in clearing it from the mists of sadness: to the body, in enabling it for the performance of such labours, tasks, o● offices, as it is to be employed or interessed in. It now rests that we speak something of her opposite, to wit, of immoderate Recreation, and the inconveniences which arise from thence; whereof we shall but need to speak a word or two, and so descend to more useful points touching this Observation. AS the wind Caecias draws unto it clouds, The inconveniences arising from immoderate Recreation. Immoderatione relaxantur artus, immin●untur vires: moderatione religantur artus, reparantur vires. Laert. in vit. chill. Num. 11.33. Eccles. 7.4. so doth immoderate recreation draw unto it divers and sundry main inconveniences: for this Immoderation is a loosener of the sinews, and a lessener of the strength, as Moderation is a combiner of the sinews, and a refiner of the strength. So dangerous is the surfeit which we take of pleasure or Recreation, as in this we resemble Chylo, who being taken with the apprehension of too much joy, instantly died. Now who seeth not how the sweetest pleasures do the soon procure a surfeit? being such as most delight, and therefore aptest to cloy. How soon were the Israelites cloyed with Quails, even while the flesh was yet between their teeth, and before it was chewed? So apt are we rather to dive than dip our hand in honey. Most true shall every one by his own experience find that saying of Solomon to be, It is better to go to the house of mourning, than to go to the house of feaesting; for there may we see the hand of God, and learn to examine our lives, making use of their mortality, by taking consideration of our own frailty: whereas in the house of feasting, we are apt to forget the day of our changing, saying with the Epicure, Eat, drink, and play; but never concluding with him, Amos 6.4. To morrow we shall die. So apt are we with Messala Corvinus to forget our own name, Man, who is said to be corruption; and the son of man, worms meat. For in this Summer-Parlour, or floury Arbour of our prosperity, we can find time to solace and recreate ourselves: Lie upon beds of Ivory, Amos 6.4. and stretch ourselves upon our beds, and eat of the Lambs of the flock, and the Calves out of the stall. Singing to the sound of the Viol, 5. and inventing to ourselves instruments of music like David. Drinking wine in bowls, 6. and anointing ourselves with the chief ointments, but no man is sorry for the affliction of joseph: In the year of jubilee all captives were delivered, all slaves enfranchised, all debts discharged. 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉. Solon. So universal are we in our jubilee, having once shaken off our former captivity. To prevent which forgetfulness, it were not amiss to imitate the Roman Princes, who (as I have elsewhere noted) when they were at any time in their conquests or victorious triumphs with acclamations received, and by the general applause of the people extolled, there stood one always behind them in their Throne, to pull them by the sleeve, with Memento te esse hominem: for the consideration of humane frailty is the soveraignest means to wean man from vain glory. Whence it was that Themisto●les, when Symachus told him, that he would teach him the Art of memory, answered, He had rather learn the Art of forgetfulness: saying, he could remember enough; but many things he could not forget, which were necessary to be forgotten; as the overweening conceit of himself, the glory of his exploits, and merits of his actions, Dediscere didisi, oblivisci qua memini. the memory whereof tended more to his prejudice than profit. But to descend to the particular inconveniences occasioned by immoderate Recreation; we shall find both the Mind and Body, as by Moderation cheered and refreshed, so by Immoderation annoyed and distempered. It was a good rule which those great men of Rome observed in their Feast and Cup-meetings; Sen. de tranq: enim. We will drink not to drown us, but to drown care in us: Not to reave sense, but revive sense: Not as those who are ever carousing in the Cup of Nepenthe, steeping their senses in the Lethe of forgetfulness. For these, Plut. in Apoth. like those base Elyots slaved to ebriety, have buried that glory of man, the reasonable part, in the lees of sensuality. These are so far from standing upon their guard, as the Devil may safely enter, either upon the Forward or Rearward, without resistance: for man's security is the Devil's opportunity, which he will not slip, though man sleep. I read of one Leonides a Captain, who perceiving his soldiers left their watch, upon the City walls, and did nothing all the day long but quaff and tipple in Alehouses near adjoining, commanded that the Alehouses should be removed, Aelian. in varia Hist. lib. 3. cap. 14. being the Citadels wherein they resided, from that place where they stood, and set up close by the walls; that, seeing the soldiers would never keep out of them, at the leastwise that they might watch as well as drink in them. These were soldiers fit for such a Captain, and a Captain worthy the training of such soldiers; being one who could sort himself to the necessity of the time, Dies festos nolite inhonorare (inquit Ignatius) quid tamen agunt isti, qui licenti●s epulando crapulae indulgent, aut calites hauriendo ebrietatem fovent? Melius est quod omni die foderent, quam omni die saltarent. Aug. sup Psal. 32. Mark. 11.17. Ebrietate nil latius serpit, nil gravius s●vit. Panorm. Homer. in Odyss. Horat. in Epist. Laert. in vit. Cleo●. and frame himself to their humour; when he could not bring them off with more honour, yet he brought them to stand upon their guard, though they could hardly stand to their tackling; so as I conclude, their March could not choose but be lazy, when their heads were so heavy. Generally, but irregularly is this broad-spreading vice of Drunkenness holden now a-dayes for a Recreation; so deeply rooted is the custom of impiety, being once strengthened by impunity. For what is our Sabbath Recreation in City and Country, but drinking and carousing; imagining (belike) that the Sabbath cannot be profaned, if we use not such works or labours wherein our Vocation is usually employed? If the jews made the Temple of God a Den of thiefs; we come near them in making that our Temple, which gives harbour unto thiefs. For what are our City, or Country Alehouses, for most part, but the Devil's Booths, where all enormities are acted, all impieties hatched, all mischievous practices plotted and contrived? These are those sinks of sin, where all pollution and uncleanness reigneth, where fearful oaths and profanation rageth, whence all sensual liberty ariseth. O Gentlemen! let not this professed friend to security attend you: It will make you unlike yourselves, transforming that glorious image which you have received, like Circe's guests, who became Swine, by being too sensually affected. It was sage Cleobulus saying, That one's servant made merry with wine, was not to be punished; for (saith he) in seeing him, thou shalt see thy folly of drunkenness all the better. Whence it was that some Countries have formerly used (though the custom seem scarcely approved) to make their slaves or vassals drunk, to show unto their children the brutish condition of that vice; whereby they might be the better weaned and deterred from that, which, through the liberty of Youth, is usually affected. For if we should but observe the brainsick humours of these professed Drunkards, we would rather admire how reason should be so strangely drenched and drowned in the lees of senseless stupidity, than ever be drawn to become affecters of so loathsome a vice. Yet see the misery of deluded man; how many, and those of excellentest parts, have been, and are besotted with this sin? for who ever lived, and showed more absolute perfection in action and person, than that great Conqueror and Commander of the whole world, Alexander the Great? Yet what uncomely parts played he in his Drunkenness? How full of noble affability and princely courtesy being sober? How passionately violent, once fallen to distemper? Witness the burning of Persepolis, to which cruel attempt he was persuaded by a common and professed Strumpet, even Thais, Vid. Quint. Curt. lib. 5. whom all Greece had noted for a public prostitute. Likewise his kill of Clitus, being one whom he so dear affected, as he was never well, but when he enjoyed his Company. Of both which facts he so repent, Armatis, divum nullus pudor. Sil. Ital. as it was long ere he would be comforted. Neither only such as he, who was a Soldier, and therefore might seem rather to claim in some sort a liberty in this kind: (for of all others, we observe such as these to be more addicted to these distempers, than others whose more civil and peaceable conversation have inur'd them to better temper:) but even those (I say) whose sincerity of life, and severity of discipline had gained them all esteem in their Country, have been likewise branded with this aspersion: As Censorius Cato, than whom none more strict or regular; Asinius Pollio, than whom none more gracious or popular; Solon, than whom none more legal; Archesilaus', than whom none more formal. Yet if we did but note how much this vice was by the Pagan's themselves abhorred, and how they laboured to prevent the very means, whereby this vice, might be either cherished or introduced, we would wonder, that moderation in a Heathen, should be so weakly seconded by a Christian. Amongst them, Plato. kinsmen kissed their kinswomen, to know whether they drunk wine or no; and if they had, to be punished by death, or banished into some Island. Plutarch. Plutarch saith, That if the Matrons had any necessity to drink wine, either because they were sick or weak, the Senate was to give them licence, and not then in Rome neither, but out of the City. And how much it was hated, may appear by the testimony of Macrobius, who saith, That there were two Senators in Rome chiding; Macrob. and the one called the others wife an Adulteress, and the other his wife a Drunkard, and it was judged that to be a Drunkard was more infamy. Thus you see even in Pagans, who had but only the light of Nature to direct them, how loath they were to drown the light of reason through drunkenness, being indeed (as a good Father well observeth) An enemy to the knowledge of God. To conclude then this first point; may it be far from you, gentlemans, to deprive yourselves of that which distinguisheth you from beasts: 1 Tim. 6.23. Mo●ico vino utere. Ecclesia mater est, noverca non est; libertas datur ad necessitatem, modo cohibeatur ad vanitatem. make not that an exercise or Recreation, which refresheth not, but darkeneth the understanding. Drink you may, and drink wine you may, for we cannot allow the device of Thracius, but we must disallow Saint Paul's advice to Timothy, Use a little wine for thy stomach's sake, and thine often infirmities. So as you are not enjoined such a strict, or Laconian abstinence, as if you were not to drink Wine at all: for, being commanded not to drink, it is to be employed, not to use drunkenness, wherein is excess; for in many places are we allegorically and not literally to cleave to the Text. As for Origen, strange it is, that perverting so many other places by Allegories, only he should pervert one place, by not admitting an Allegory. For our Lord commanding to cut off the foot, or any part of the body which offendeth us, doth not mean we should cut off our members with a knife, but our carnal affections with a holy and mortified life; whence it is, that a Itae evenit, ●t cúm aliquid ubi non oportet adhibetur, illic ubi oportet negligatur. Tertul. lib. de poeniten. initio. Origen was justly punished by using too little diligence, where there was great need, because he used too great diligence where there was little need. No less worthy was b In Apolog. c. 45. Democritus excaecando seipsum incontinentiam emendatione profitetur. At Christianus salvis oculis faeminam videt, animo adversus ●ibidines caecus est. Democritus error of reproving, who was blinded before he was blind: for a Christian need not put out his eyes, for fear of seeing a woman, since howsoever his bodily eye see, yet still his heart is blind against all unlawful desires. Neither was Crates Thebanus well advised, who did cast his money into the Sea, saying, c Ego mergam vos, neipse mergar ● vobis. Nay sure I will drown you first in the Sea, rather than you should drown me in covetousness and care. Lastly, d Noctium Attic. l. 19 c. 13. Homo miser vites suas sibi omnes detruncat. Thracius, of whom Aulus Gellius writeth, was for any thing that I can see, even at that time most of all drunken, when he cut down all his vines, lest he should be drunken. No, I admit of no such strict Stoicism; but rather (as I formerly noted) to use wine or any such strong drink to strengthen and comfort Nature, but not to impair her strength or enfeeble her: For as by a little we are usually refreshed, so by too much are we dulled and oppressed. There are some likewise, and these for most part of the higher sort, (I could wish they were likewise of the better sort) who repair to the House of the strange woman, sleeping in the bed of sin, thinking so to put from them the evil day: And these are such as make Whoredom a Recreation, sticking not to commit sin even with greediness, so they may cover their shame with the curtain of darkness. But that is a woeful Recreation, which brings both soul and body to confusion; singing Lysimachus song, Short is the pleasure of Fornication, but eternal is the punishment due to the Fornicator: so as, though he enjoy pleasure for a time, he shall be tormented for ever. But consider this, Gentlemen; you (I say) whose better breeding hath instructed you in the knowledge of better things, that if no future respect might move you (as God forbid it should not move and remove you from these licentious delights) yet respect to the place whence you descended, the tender of your credit which should be principally valued, the example which you give, and by which inferiors are directed, should be of force to wean you from all inordinate affections, the end whereof is bitterness, though the beginning promise sweetness. Quo major, eò melior; idque exemplo perfice, ut aliis etiam bene vivendi exempla trilua●. It was Demosthenes answer unto Lais, upon setting a price of her body, Non emam tauti poenitere: sure I am, howsoever this Heathen Orator prized his money above the pleasure of her body, and that it was too dear to buy repentance at so high a rate; that it is an ill bargain for a moment's pleasure, to make shipwreck of the soul's treasure; exposing reputation and all (being indeed the preciousest of all) to the Object of lightness, and Subject of baseness, paying the fraught of so short a dalliance with a long repentance. Wherefore my advice is unto such as have resorted to the House of the strange woman, esteeming it only a trick of youth, Prov. 2.16, 17. to keep their feet more warily from her ways: For her house draweth near unto death, and her paths unto Hell. So as none that go in unto her, shall return, neither shall they understand the ways of life. Let such as have herein sinned, repent; and such as have not herein sinned, rejoice, giving thanks to God, who hath not given them up for a prey to the lusts of the flesh; craving his assistance to prevent them hereafter, that the flesh might be ever brought in subjection to the spirit. For, as the Lioness having been false to the Lion, by going to a Libard; and the Stork consorting with any other besides her own mate, Observation of admirable continency, instanced in beast, and birds. wash themselves before they dare to return home; and the Hart after he hath satisfied his desire, retires to some private or desolate Lawn, hanging down his head, as one discontent, till he hath washed and rinsed himself, and then he returns cheerfully to his herd again: so we cannot be unto God truly reconciled, till we be in the flood of repentance thoroughly washed. Thus shall you from the ways of the strange woman be delivered; Vt eruaentur à multere altena, etc. ●●. verse. 12. The publication of Secula Plays used by the Heathen, was cried in these words; Convenite ad ludos spectandos, quos neque spectavit quis quam, nec spectaturus est. Suet. in Claudio, cap. 21. Pol. Vug. de invent. lib. 8. cap 1. Ovid. Trist. lib. thus shall your good name, which is aptly compared to a precious ointment, remain unstained; and a good report shall follow you, when you are hence departed. There is another Recreation used by Gentlemen, but especially in this City; which, used with Moderation, is not altogether to be disallowed: and it is repairing to Stageplays; where, as they shall see much lightness, so they may hear something worthy more serious attention. Whence it is, that Thomas Aquinas giveth instance in Stageplays, as fittest for refreshing and recreating the mind; which likewise Philo judaeus approveth. But for as much as divers Objections have been, and worthily may be made against them, we will here lay them down, being such as are grounded on the Sacred Word of God; and, with as much perspicuity and brevity as we may, clear and resolve them. Plays were set out on a time by the Citizens for the more solemnity of a league concluded betwixt the Cantons of Berna and Tiguris; touching which Plays, sundry differences arose amongst the Ministers of Geneva, which could not easily be determined, about a young Boy, who represented a woman in apparel, habit, and person: in the end it was agreed of all parts, that they should submit the determination of this difference, with general suffrage and consent, Object. 1. Primum quod urgent illi Histriom ast. di sumptum est è Deuter. 22. ●e cultu multebri, An pueris li vit cum assumere; carumque mo res assimilare? Vni Bezae omres acquiescunt Theologi. to the authentic and approved judgement of their Beza, holden for the very Oracle both of University and City; and who had sometimes been versed in theatral composures, to his glory. This controversy being unto him referred, he constantly affirmed, that it was not only lawful for them to set forth and act those Plays, but for Boys to put on women's apparel for the time. Neither did he only affirm this, but brought such Divines as opposed themselves against it, to be of his opinion, with the whole assent and consent of all the Ecclesiastical Synod of Geneva. Now in this first Objection, we may observe the occasion, which moved these zealous and learned Divines to make a doubt of the lawfulness of Stageplays; because (said they) it is not lawful for men to put on women's apparel, or women to put on mens: as we read how Stephanio, an Actor of Roman Plays, was whipped, for having a man's wife waiting on him, shorn in manner of a Boy. Which doubt, being so sound and sincerely cleared by so conspicuous a light of the Church, we will no longer insist upon, but descend to the next Objection. Object. 2. Obj●ctio de sacra Scriptura sumpta & perita. We are therefore to come to another place of Scripture, pressed likewise by such as oppose themselves to the lawfulness of Stageplays, as we find it written in the 118. Psalm: Turn away mine eyes that I see no vanity. Which requireth of us a twofold consideration; Generally, for the whole nature of things, as in that place of Solomon, Vanity of Vanities, etc. in which sense I freely confess that Stageplays may pass under the name of Vanity. Specially, for subjects vain, light, foolish, frivolous, fruitless, being such as are to be applied or accommodated to no good use or profitable end; in which sense or signification our Stageplays may in no sort be termed Vanity. quam plurima in pubitcis Theatris sunt spectanda, ad regendos mores, dirigendos motus, corrigendos animi metus, admodum utilia. Object. 3. For we shall gather, by a right use and application of such things as we shall hear and see, many excellent precepts for instruction, sundry fearful examples for caution, divers notable occurrents or passages which, well applied (as what may not be perverted) may confer no small profit to the judicious Hearer. The third Objection may probably ground itself upon the testimony of Saint Luke, chap. 6.24. W●e unto those that laugh now, etc. Whence it may be gathered, That, if the Scripture condemn Laughter, then consequently Stageplays also, whose special aim and intendment is to make men laugh. But it is to be understood, that Christ directeth his speech to those perverse and malicious men, whose mourning is but a dissembled sorrowing, outwardly grieving, and inwardly laughing; who speak one thing with their mouth, but profess another thing in their life: for this is not to be understood of the common society or conversation of men, as if Christ should forbid any one to laugh at all; but rather of immoderate laughter: whence is that of the Poet; Woe unto thee whose Spleen affecteth laughter, For thy short joy shall turn to sorrow after. For, as fear begetteth humility, so too much mirth procureth levity. Much laughter corrupteth manners, Vt metus humilitatem▪ sic nimia laetitia gestit levitatem. Cic. Eccles. 3.22. and looseth the sinews of their former strength, but a grave countenance is the preserver of knowledge: yet addeth Ecclesiastes unto this; There is nothing better than for man to rejoice in his works; which David confirmeth, Psalm penult. So as there is nothing by this Objection proved, but what with all reason may be approved; for immoderate mirth is that which is here condemned, being that which we have in this observation especially touched and taxed: whence we may infer, That moderate delight, tasting more of sobriety than levity, is not only allowed, but commended. The fourth Objection is taken from Saint Matthew, Chap. 12.36. But I say unto you, Object. 4. that for every idle word, etc. of which words, that we may use no other exposition, than what the ancient Fathers themselves have used; we will show in this place their several expositions upon this parcel of holy Scripture. Tertul. lib. de Patient. Theophylact. Tertullian in his book of Patience, understandeth by every idle word, whatsoever is vain and superfluous. But Theophylact by idle words understandeth lies, calumnies, all inordinate and ridiculous speeches. chrysostom. chrysostom, almost after the same manner interpreteth it, saying, that by idle words are understood such as move uncomely and immodest laughter. Gregory. Gregory understandeth by these which want the profit ever redounding from modesty, and are seldom uttered upon any precedent necessity, things frivolous, fables, oldwives tales. All which several expositions, as they agree in substance, so do we close with them in every circumstance. For such as these which corrupt Youth by light and scurrilous jests, so little are they to be affected, as the very Stages▪ where these are used are to be hated. For the fifth, it is written 1 Cor. 10.7. and Exod 32.6. The people sat down to eat and drink, and rose up to play: which argument is drawn from chrysostom, Object. 5. where he showeth that by these words the Apostle meant two main inconveniences, being the effects of false worship, and endangering the soul's shipwreck, to wit, the Idolatry, or Idolomany of the Israelites done to the Golden calf in Dan and Bethel. But far be this from the conceit of any, to imagine, that Stageplays, intended for modest delight and Recreation, should ever move the Spectator to such abomination. For so much ought Stageplays to be from introducing any to such impiety, as they should not so much as once present in their shows or Pageants, aught that might tend to the depraving of the Hearer in matters of conversation, De Deo loqui e●iam vera periculosissimum est. Arnob. much less in drawing their minds to any profane or Pagan opinion: which should not be so much as once named, much less entertained amongst Christians. For the sixth, Object 6. it is grounded on the foundation of the same Apostle, where in divers places he writeth expressly against fables; as 1 Tim. 1.4. Give no heed to fables, etc. Again, 1 Tim. 4.7. But cast away profane, and old wives fables, etc. Again, 2 Tim. 4.4. Taxing such as shall turn their ears from the truth, and shall be given unto fables. Again 2 Pet. 1.16. the Apostles in their doctrine were not directed by deceivable fables. But for these Comedians, let them speak for themselves, being such as follow the steps of Terence, In Comed. de Thaide. Menander, etc. Or may be properly referred to the Lesbian rule of Menander, and the Lydian stone of Paul. For such as breed corruption in our manners (that I may jump in opinion with Plato) let them sail to * Anticyrainsula est O●tae, monti Thessalio opposita, ubi Helleborus crevisse dicitur. Anticyra, and undergo due censure for their error. But how worthy the Works of some of the Ancient Comedians have been, may appear by the Apostle's alleging divers of their sentences in his Epistle, and vouchsafing to use the name of their Poets, by a general title, to approve some things in them worthy reading. As that of Luke 9.5. a proverb used by Euripides in his Tragedies; that also of Menander, made sacred by the mouth of the Apostle Paul, 1 Cor. 15.33. As it is likewise manifest that the same Apostle Paul used the authority of Aratus and Epimenides, Act. 17.28. All which add a reverend approbation to the authority of Poets. The seventh Objection which these Stage-Antagonists frame, Object. 7. is taken from Ephes. 5.4. where the Apostle willeth and warneth that these 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 etc. that is, such things as become no man, and which our very ears should abhor to hear, ought not to be so much as once named amongst Christians. Whereto I answer, that as these things tending to lightness were inveighed against by the Apostle, that he might leave unto us a more excellent pattern or example of modesty, which is an ornament that suiteth best with the children of God: So there is none, having the light of grace in him, or fearing the judgement that is to come, who will applaud these scurrilous jests, which are wont to deprave, but seldom to edify the understanding: whereof the Poet speaketh; jests that unseasond are I cannot bear, For they distaste a modest bashful ear. But it may be here again objected, Aut vinculum aut vehiculum. De civet Dei. lib 9 cap. 5. that every thing being (as Augustine testifieth,) either a hindrance or a furtherance; these Stageplays, which are properly called the bellows of vice, may rather seem a hindrance in the course and progress of virtue, than any furtherance to him in his practice therein. Besides, Plays (saith Ambrose) ought not to be known of Christians, because there is no mention at all made of them in holy Scripture. Whereto we briefly answer thus with Peter Martyr, that sound and profound Divine, that in holy Scripture we have (as it were) a general rule set down unto us, Theatra Idolatricis Deorum sacris esse turpiora etc. Augustinus, Latinorum patrum Augustios de civet. Dei lib. 2. cap. 7. touching all things mediate or indifferent, in the number whereof are Plays necessarily included. Yea, but Augustine the Prince of the Latin Fathers, seems to affirm, that even those Stages or theatres where their interludes were acted, were more abominable than those idolatrous sacrifices, which in honour of the Pagan gods were offered. But hence is to be understood, that this holy father meant of such solemn Plays or Interludes, as were acted and usually celebrated by the Heathen in honour of their Father * Nunc sum delignatus Aedilis, habeo rationem quòd à populo acceperim, mihi ludos sanctissimos, maxima et ceremonia Cereri Liberoque faciendos. Cic. in Ver. Quintilianus Hypocritam Histrionem appellat: Qui mores, motus gestus, incessus voces, vultus, deponere & dediscere (quorum personas agunt) nullo modo possunt. Elizabetha orbis Phoebe; inter mulieres Sibylla, inter reginas, Saba. Liber, and other Ethnic gods for the yearly increase of their fruits: wherein many uncomely and immodest parts were played. Yea, but where shall we find these Stage-actors in former times so much as countenanced, being such as Quintilian termeth expressly, Hypocrites, from counterfeiting the manner, measure, motion, gesture, gate, grace, and feature of such persons as they represent; whose fashion they often retain when they have resumed their own Habit? Yes, and by the eminent'st and noblest personages. Edward the sixth so much approved them, as he appointed one who was a witty Courtier to be (as it were) the chief master or disposer of the Plays, who by his office should take care to have them set forth in a princely and sumptuous sort; which Office to this day retains the name of the Master of the Revels. Likewise our late Queen Elizabeth of blessed memory, rightly styled the world's Phoebe; among women a Sibylla, among Queens a Saba, how well she approved of these Recreations, being (as she termed them,) harmless spenders of time, the large exhibitions which she conferred on such as were esteemed notable in that kind may sufficiently witness. Neither did she hold it any derogation to that royal and princely Majesty, which she then in her regal person presented, to give some countenance to their endeavours, whereby they might be the better encouraged in their action. Yea, if we would but peruse some books treating of this subject, we should find Poets in general to have received such countenance and approbation from the most eminent'st Princes, as their poems never wanted Patrons, nor the Author's themselves Benefactors: which by instances I intend here to confirm, though the prosecution hereof may seem digressive to our present discourse. Homerus, Sophocles heroicus; Sophocles, Homerus tragicus. Had Ovid supplied Chaerilus place he might by this means have enriched his fortunes above the condition of a Poet. We read how much Amyntas King of Macedonia, made of the tragical Poet Euripides, the Athenians of Sophocles; in what price the noble and heroic poems of Homer were holden by Alexander, placing them in that curious Cabinet which he got in the spoil of Darius: and not only Homer the Father of the Poets, was so honoured by him, but for his sake all other meaner Poets: in so much as Chaerilus no very good Poet had for every verse well made, a Philip's Noble of Gold, amounting in value to an Angel English, and so for every hundred verses (which a cleanly hand could presently dispatch) he had an hundred Angels. And since Alexander the great, how Theocritus the Greek Poet was favoured by Ptolemy King of Egypt, and Berenice his wife. Ennius likewise by Scipio, Virgil and Horace by Augustus; betwixt which two Poets the Emperor sitting one day, and one that might be bold ask what he did; Sedeo inter suspiria & lachrymas. Marry (said he) I sit here between groan and tears; for the one was ever sighing, & the other seemed as if he were ever weeping. But to descend to our later times; how much were jehan de Mehune, and Guillamn● de Loris made of by the French King? and jeffery Chaucer, Father of our English Poets, by Richard the second; who, as it was supposed, gave him the Manor of Newholme in Oxfordshire? and Gower by Henry the fourth? Harding by Edward the fourth? Also how Francis the French King made Sangelais, Salmonius, Macrinus, and Clemens Marot of his Privy Chamber, for their excellent skill in Latin and vulgar Poesy? And Henry the eighth, for a few Psalms of David, translated and turned into English Meeter by Sternhold, made him groom of his Privy Chamber. Also one Grace, in what favour grew he with Henry the eight, and after with the Duke of Somerset, Protector, for his Hunt is up, Hunt is up? And Queen Marie, for one Epithalamie, made by Vargus a Spanish Poet, at her marriage with King Philip, solemnised in Winchester, gave him during his life two hundred Crowns pension. Nor were Poets only eminent in this kind, but esteemed for their universality of knowledge, apt for any office public; as in the administration of Commonweals affairs, conduct of Armies, etc. For we find that julius Caesar was not only the most eloquent Orator of his time, but also a very good Poet, though none of his doings therein be now extant. Quintus Catulus a good Poet, and Cornel. Gallus Treasurer of Egypt; and Horace the most delicate of all the Roman Lyrics, was importuned by many Letters of great instance, — ego laudoruris amoeni Rivos, & musco circumlita saxa, nemusque. Hor. 1. Epist. 10. Carmina sec●ssum scribentis & otia quaerunt. to be Secretary of State to Augustus the Emperor; which he nevertheless refused for his unhealthfulnesse sake; and being a quiet man, and nothing ambitious of glory, retired himself from public deportments. And Ennius the Latin Poet, was with all respect entertained as a fellow and Counsellor by African, for his amiable conversation. So Antimenides, of whom Aristotle reports in his Politics; and Tyrtaeus the Poet, though a lame man, was chosen by the Oracle of the gods from the Athenians, to be general of the Lacedæmonians Army. Nor may that noble and honourable memorial of that worthy woman twice French Queen, Lady Anne of Britain, wife first to Charles the eighth, and after to Lewis the twelfth, add less glory to this exquisite Art; who passing one day from her lodging toward the King's side, saw in a Gallery M. Allan● Chartier the King's Secretary, an excellent Poet, leaning on a Tables end asleep, and stooped down to kiss him, saying thus in all their hear: We may not of princely courtesy pass by and not honour with our kiss, the mouth from whence so many sweet ditties and golden poems have issued. Frustra poet as feres compos sui p●pulit. Sen. de Tranq. anim. Yea Plato himself, howsoever he may be said to exclude divers Poets the bounds of his Commonweal, for their obscene and immodest labours, which effeminated youth, training them rather to the Carpet than the Camp; yet wrote he many Epigrams and excellent Poems in his younger years, before he intended himself to Philosophy. For even in Fables appear seeds of Virtues, as Macrobius testifieth. Yea, Macrobius in som. Scipioni. but our Stage-stingers, or Poet-scourgers, will again object, that these theatres, which were at first erected for honest delight and harmless merriment, grow many times busy with states, laying aspersions on men of eminent rank and quality; and in brief, will spare none, so they may gain themselves by disparaging others. But I must answer thus much for them, albeit,- Non me tenet aura Theatri; that such as employ their pens in taxing or tainting any noble or meriting person in this kind, Ad reprehendenda aliena facta atque dicta ardet omnis animus. Sallust. deserve no better censure, then as they whipped, so to be whipped themselves for their labour: for they must know (to use the words of one who was once an eminent Statist) that some things are privileged from jest, namely Religion, matters of State, great persons, any man's present business of importance, and any case that deserveth pity; and generally, men ought to find the difference between saltness and bitterness. Certainly, he that hath a Satirical vein, as he maketh others afraid of his wit, so he had need be afraid of others memory. This was very straight looked into by the ancient Heathens, who ordained many strict Laws to punish such bitter Satirists as touched the good name of any Citizen, either in public Stage, or any private work. The ancient Romans had a Law enacted in their twelve Tables, That whosoever should impeach any ones good name, or detract from the credit of his person, either in verse or action, should suffer death. So as Tiberius slew Scaurus, and not altogether undeservedly, for writing a spiteful Tragedy against him. In like manner did Augustus banish Ovid, for writing too wantonly towards some that were near him. So Nero enjoined Lucan silence, for his * 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉. smooth invection framed against him. So as Stesichorus, writing bitterly against Helen, Aristophanes against Clean, Eupolis against Alcibiades, calisthenes against Alexander, suffered equal punishments according to their demerits. Eupolis atque Cratinu●, Aristophanes que poetae. Horat. Serm. lib. 1. Sat. 4. This Eupolis is said to be one of the first Comedians, and was drowned in Hellespont, about the time of that famous Sea-fight between the Lacedæmonians and Athenians: but I can scarcely assent to his opinion; for we find it recorded, that he was thrown into the Sea by Alcibiades, for presenting him on the public Stage, embracing Timandra in a lascivious sort; and that he used these words: Saepius me Eupolis in Theatro demersisti, semel te in mari demergam. Oft times, Eupolis, hast thou drowned me upon the stage, I will once drown thee in the sea. Thespis likewise is said to be the first inventor of a Tragic Scene, as * Ignotum Tragicae genus invenisse Camanae. Dicitur, & plaus●ris vexisse poemata Thespis, Quae canerent agerētquè peruncti faecibus ora. Horat. in art. poet. Horace witnesseth: Thespis, some, say inventing first the strain Of tragic Scenes, grew famous in his vein; Whose Actors that ye might the better note, With painted faces sung the lines he wrote, Mounted in Chariots; which with greedy ears The people heard, and hearing sent forth tears. And in these did Satyrus (no doubt) among the greeks show an admirable Art, being so highly extolled by Demosthenes (for unto him did this Satyrus propose the first form of speaking plainly and articulately) as he was no less praised by him, than the Roman Roscius was by Cicero, or Aesopus, to whom Cicero useth many titles of love and familiarity in his Epistles. For Roscius and Aesopus were held the choicest and chiefest Orators, even at that time when the Commonweal excelled not only in Eloquence, but also in wisdom. The like of Pylades and Hyla, Master and Scholar, who were such passionate Actors, as they enforced admiration in the hearer. But to what end should I prosecute either Comic or Tragic subjects any further? My opinion briefly is this; As Comedies should breathe nothing but Terenees Art, Cecilius gravity, Menander's sweetness, Aristophanes' conceit, and Plautus wit: so Tragedies should relish of nothing but of the royal and majestic measures of Sophocles, the sententious fullness of Euripides, and the sincere integrity of Seneca. For these which tend to corrupt youth, Hence it may appear how injuriously I was traduced by Mr. W. P. in his Historiomas●ix. Though the most able and s●nowy fancies, which of late times flourished amongst our Italians for Dramatic measures, were accounted these: Lopis de vega. Arisiofane. Mauzano. Mirinda. Vivianus. Assarino. Alvisus. Astolsus. Cum fame craciantur Christi pauperes, effusis largitatibus nutriunt histriones. Greg. Donare res suat histrionibus causa histrionatus, vitium est immane & non virtus. Aug. Sup. johan. Daindigenti, & non da saltanti et Hiero. This fearful Example disapproves not the use but abuse of Stageplays. making their Stages Stews, or their Scenes mere Satyrs, to detract from the credit or estimation of any person, either public or private; as their Authors deserve due punishment, so should they be avoided: the former sort, because they are in danger to deprave us; the latter, because perhaps we shall hear them touch the credit of such as are near us. For such as Interludes (Gentlemen) as participate with neither of these, but in a temperate and equal course mix profit with honest delight; you shall account the time you bestow in hearing them, not altogether fruitlessly spent. For albeit the Italians are held worthy before all others to carry away the Garland for Poesy, being for number and measure fuller, and for weight and merit better, as may appear in the happy labours of Petrarch and Boccace; yet if we look homeward, and observe the grace of our presentments, the curiosity of our properties, and propriety of our action, we may justly conclude, that no Nation is, or hath been so exquisite in that kind. But to draw in our sails, touching this Recreation: as I approve of the moderate use and recourse which our Gentlemen make to Plays; so I wholly condemn the daily frequenting of them: as some there be (especially in this City) who, for want of better imploymnet, make it their Vocation. And these I now speak of, be our Ordinary Gentlemen, whose day-taske is this in a word: They leave their beds to put on their clothes formally, repair to an Ordinary, and see a Play daily. These can find time enough for Recreation, but not a minute's space for Devotion. So as I much fear me, when they shall be struck with sickness, and lie on their deathbed, it will far with them as it fared with a young Gentlewoman within these few years; who being accustomed in her health every day to see one Play or other, was at last struck with a grievous sickness even unto death: during which time of her sickness, being exhorted by such Divines as were there present, to call upon God, that he would in mercy look upon her, as one deaf to their exhortation, continued ever crying, Oh Hieronimo, Hieronimo, me thinks I see thee, brave Hieronimo! Neither could she be drawn from this with all their persuasions; but fixing her eyes intentively, as if she had seen Hieronimo acted, sending out a deep sigh, she suddenly died. And let this suffice to have been spoken of the moderate use of this Recreation: upon which I have the longer insisted, because I am not ignorant how divers and different opinions have been holden touching the law fullness of Stageplays, which I resolved to reconcile in as brief and plain a manner as I could, before I descended to the rest. For as much as we have begun to treat of such Recreations as require small use or exercise of the body, we will first proceed with such as follow, being ranked in the same Siege, because Recreations of the same nature: descending from them to exercises requiring more alacrity of spirit, and more ability of body. Ludus ale ae et omnis ludus qui innititurfortunae prohibitus est. In Sum. Pisan. Of these, which may be rather termed exercises of the mind, than exercises of the faculties of the body, are Cards and Dice, a special Recreation: merely invented and intended to pass tedious Winter nights away, and not to hazard one's fortunes at them, as many inconsiderate Gamesters now adays will not stick to do: which done, what ensueth hence, but entertaining of some desperate course, which bringeth the undertaker many times to an end as infortunate, as his life was desolate? which makes me think I never see one of these Gamesters, who in a bravado will set their patrimonies at a throw, but I remember the answer of one Minacius, who having on a time lost at Dice not only his money, but his apparel too (for he was very poor) fate weeping at the Portall door of a Tavern: It chanced that a friend of his seeing him thus to weep and lament, demanded of him, How it was with him? Nothing, (quoth Minacius;) Why weepest thou then, (said his friend) if there be nothing? Barthol. Merula. in Ovid. de art. amand, l. 2. For this cause do I weep (replied Minacius) because there is nothing. His friend still wondering; Why then (quoth he) dost thou weep thus, when there is nothing? For the very same cause (quoth he) because I have nothing. The one understood that there was no cause why he should weep; the other wept because he had Nothing left to play. How many be there who may sing Lachrymae with Minacius, going by weeping-crosse: being either by cross fortune, as they ascribe it, or rather by flat cheating, as they may properly term it, stripped of their substance? Amongst the Romans * Canis, canalicula seu Chius, apud Romanos jactus erat omnium maximè inauspicatus; Hercules, Venus seu Basilicus, omnium benignissimus. Vid. Lips. antiq. lect lib. ●. c. 1. Turn. adu. lib. 5. cap. 6. In Tesserario lud●, Midas jactu● erat fortunatissimus. De●●pst. antiq. Rom. l. 5. c. 1. Venus or Co●s was the best chance at Dice: but indeed the best chance that any one can have, is not to throw at all. Howsoever, I could wish young Gentlemen to beware of frequenting these common gaming houses, where they must either have fortune with advantage, or else be sure to play like young Gamesters to their owne-disadvantage. Truth is, I would have none to play much, but those which have little to play. For these, as they have little to lose, so they cannot be much poorer, if they lose all. Whereas such, whose Ancestors have left them fair revenues, by investing them as Heirs to their providence; need little to raise or advance their fortunes by these indirect means. For tell me, gentlemans, do ye game for gain, or passing time? If for gain, it is needless, ye have sufficient. If for passing time, your stake should be less, and your care for winning, more indifferent. Besides, do ye not observe what foists ye have daily resorting and frequenting these houses; whose purses are lined with cheats, and whose profession is only to shark? eat their companies then, left they pray upon you: whereby you shall make yourselves subjects both of want and weakness. Of Want, by filling their purses with your coin: of weakness, by suffering yourselves to be made a prey of by their cheats. If you will game, make choice of such as you know to be square Gamesters, scorning to bring their names in question with the least report of advantage. As for tricks frequently used in these days, learn rather to prevent them, then profess them: For I never knew Gamester play upon advantage, but bring him to the square, and his fortune was ever seconded with disadvantage. But above all, use moderation in Play, make not your Recreation a distemper: and set up this as your rest, never to mount your stake so high, as the loss of it may move you to choler. And so I descend to Recreations more virile, wherein I will be brief, because I would hasten to the next branch. In this rank may be numbered Hunting and Hawking, pleasures very free and generous, and such as the noblest dispositions have naturally affected. For what more admirable than the pleasure of the Hare, if we observe the uses which may be made of it, as I have * In a Treatise entitled; The Hunismans' Range. elsewhere more amply discoursed; purposing here rather to touch them, then treat of them? In her doubles, note her cunning; in the dogs, eagerness in pursuing: Where all the senses remain for the time pleased, but when at default, how much are they grieved? What an excellent Melody, or natural Consort to delight the Ear? What choice Objects to content the Eye? What odoriferous smells in the floury Meads, Velvet que videre, non etiam sentire. Act aeon apud Ovid. to refesh the Nose? only the Touch and Taste must have their pleasures suspended, till the sport be ended. Non sine lepôre, tanto labour, pro uno Lepore homines torqueri video; saith one very wittily and elegantly. I can never choose but laugh, to see what labour men will take for a poor Hare. Quos mortes ascendent, quas paludes transibunt, quas vepres sentesque sine sensu percurrent, modoò unum lepusculum tanto sudore capiant? What Mountains they will climb, what Marshes they will pass, what brakes and briers they will run through, and all for a Hare? which may be an Emblem of humane vanity; where men (miserable deluded men) will refuse no toil or labour to gain a trifling pleasure. What indirect courses they will take for a moment's delight, which is no sooner shown them, then vanished from them? These pleasures are most commonly affected by Youth, because they have agility and ability of body to maintain the pursuit of them: whence the Poet; The beardless Youth, Horat. when's guardians reins do yield, Sports him in Horse, and Dogs, and open field: The reason may be this; he cannot endure restraint: for the heat of Youth must needs take air, or it chokes itself with too much holding. It must be carried aloft on the wings of the wind, taking an Icarian flight, but never fearing his fall. Such dogs as were presented by the King of Albany unto Alexander the Great, who would not stir at small Beasts, but at Lions and Elephants, are the fittest for his kennel; for Youth is no sooner moving than mounting. Whence Ascanius in a youthful bravery Wisheth some Boar or savage Lion should Descend the Mount, Optat aprum, aut fulvum descendere monte Lecnem. Virg. and cope with him he would. So subject is Youth to expose itself to all dangers, swimming ever with bladders of vainglory, till they receive water, and it sink. There are some also of these youthful Huntsmen, who when they cannot speed in their sport, will rather buy it, then want it; that having their game on their back, they may proclaim to the world, how they are Masters of their profession. And these are excellently displayed by the Poet, in the person of Gargilius. ●●t olim Gargilius, qui manè plagas, venabula, servos Differtum transire forum, populumque jubebat, Vnus ut è multis (Populo spectante) referret Emptum mulus aprum. Horat. Epist, lib. 1.6. At once Gargilius, who one Morn betime Sent out his Servants forward to the chase, With Hunting poles, and twisted nets of line, To buy a Boar, which through the Market place Laid on a Mule, as if his men had slain him, Would, as be thought, eternal glory gain him. So apt are many in inventing, and eager in pursuing aught which may raise them a name, though in things merely indifferent. For as reputation is a common conceit of extraordinary virtue, so every one laboureth to acquire the end, albeit they miss the means of acquiring it. For how should any one imagine (unless his conceit were wholly darkened) that these things could be any means to perpetuate his name? But so soon transported is Youth with any fantasy suggested (albeit upon no sufficient ground builded) as whatsoever his conceit whispers to him, that may tend to his praise, he entertains it with a greedy and eager desire, labouring to effect what may gain him popular esteem. So as the Lover is never more blinded with affection towards his beloved, than Youth is in affecting that which may cause him to be praised. To speak much touching this Recreation I will not address my discourse: only this is my opinion, that as it is generous, so generally is it most harmless, so it be moderately used; for otherwise it may weaken or enfeeble the body, impair the health, and be occasion of many inconveniences: for in my discourse upon the particular branch of this Observation, I am only to approve of such Recreations as are used with Moderation: As Hawking, which (as I before observed) is a pleasure for high and mounting spirits: such as will not stoop to inferior Lures; having their minds so far above, as they scorn to partake with them. It is rare to consider, how a wild Bird should be so brought to hand, and so well managed as to make us such pleasure in the air: but most of all to forgo her native liberty and feeding, and return to her former servitude and diet. But in this, as in the rest, we are taught to admire the great goodness and bounty of God, who hath not only given us the Birds of the Air, with their flesh to feed us, with their voice to cheer us, but with their flight to delight us. The Eagle, which is indeed the Prince of Birds, and the prime Hawk, was observed much among the ancient Romans in all their Auguries: so as an Eagle hover in the Air, Vid. Sueton. Tranquill. in the reign of Augustus, and at last settling upon the name Agrippa, and just upon the first letter of that name, A. a lightning descending down from Heaven, struck the first letter of his own name out, C. whence soothsayers, by conjectural arguments gathered, that he should but live an hundred days after, and be afterwards canonised for a god: because Aesar, the residue of that name, in the Tuscan language signified God. For the Romans, of all Nations under the Cope of Heaven, relied most upon the prophesying of Birds: so as we read, that they ever kept their Oscines, or birds of Augury, by which they collected what their success should be, both in peace and war. Albeit, some there was among the Heathen, who made small account of them: so as Claudius Pulcher, when in taking his Auspicia, or the predictions of his success before Sicily, the Pullet's would not feed, He commanded they should be plunged in the sea, that they might drink, seeing they would not eat. Greg. in Moral. exposit. in job. It is the saying of an ancient Father. That the piercing eye of the Eagle exceeds the sight of all other birds: being of such sharp sight, as reflecting the beams of the Sun fixed upon her, she can look upon the Sun without shutting her eyes, which are not to be dazzled, shine the Sun never so brightly. So as it is said, she makes a trial of her brood when they are but young, by mounting up, and fixing their eyes against the Sun: of which, if any be so tender-eyed, as they cannot look upon it, she disclaims them; but such whose sharp sight can look steadfastly upon it, she tenders them as herself. Whence many secret and sacred uses might be gathered (for this is but the type of a divine Moral) if I should insist upon the exposition of that blessed Father; but I must briefly descend to speak of the Moderate use of this Recreation. This pleasure, as it is a princely delight, so it moveth many to be so dear enamoured of it, as they will undergo any charge, rather than forgo it: which makes me recall to mind a merry tale which I have read, to this effect. Divers men having entered into discourse, touching the superfluous care (I will not say folly) of such as kept Dogs and Hawks for Hawking; one Paulus a Florentine stood up and spoke: Not without cause (quoth he) did that fool of Milan laugh at these; and being entreated to tell the tale, he thus proceeded; Upon a time (quoth he) there was a Citizen of Milan, a Physician for such as were distracted of Lunatic; who took upon him within a certain time to cure such as were brought unto him. And he cured them after this sort: He had a plat of ground near his house, and in it a pit of corrupt and stinking water, wherein he bound naked such as were mad to a stake, some of them knee-deep, others to the groin, and some others deeper, according to the degree of their madness; where he so long pined them with water and hunger, till they seemed sound. Now amongst others, there was one brought, whom he had put thigh-deepe in water: who after fifteen days began to recover, beseeching the Physician that he might be taken out of the water. The Physician taking compassion of him, took him out, but with this condition, that he should not go out of the room. Having obeyed him certain days, he gave him liberty to walk up and down the house, but not to pass the out-gate; while the rest of his companions, which were many, remaining in the water, diligently observed their Physicians command. Now it chanced, as on a time he stood at the gate, (for out he durst not go, for fear he should return to the pit) he beckoned to a young Gentleman to come unto him, who had a Hawk and two Spaniels, being moved with the novelty thereof; for, to his remembrance, before he fell mad, he had never seen the like. The young Gentleman being come unto him; Sir (quoth he) I pray you hear me a word or two, and answer me at your pleasure. What is this you ride on (quoth he) and how do you employ him? This is a Horse (replied he) and I keep him for Hawking. But what call you that, you carry on your fist, and how do you use it? This is a Hawk (said he) and I use to fly with it at Pluver and Partridge. But what (quoth he) are these which follow you, what do they, or wherein do they profit you? These are dogs (said he) and necessary for Hawking, to find and retrieve my game. And what were these Birds worth, for which you provide so many things, if you should reckon all you take for a whole year? Who answering, he knew not well, but they were worth a very little, not above six crowns. The man replied; what then may be the charge you are at with your Horse, Dogs and Hawk? Some fifty crowns, said he. Whereat, as one wondering at the folly of the young Gentleman: Away, away Sir, I pray you quickly, and fly hence before our Physician return home: for if he find you here, as one that is maddest man alive, he will throw you into his Pit, there to be cured with others, that have lost their wits; and more than all others, for he will set you chin-deep in the water. Inferring hence, that the use or exercise of Hawking, is the greatest folly, unless sometimes used by such as are of good estate, and for Recreation sake. Neither is this pleasure or Recreation herein taxed, but the excessive and immoderate expense which many are at in maintaining this pleasure: Who as they should be wary in the expense of their coin, so much more circumspect in their expense of time. The Romans, as may appear by their Laetoria lex, accounted all Prodigals madmen. Cic. 3. the office. Horae non auri dispendium defleo. So as in a word, I could wish young Gentlemen never to be so taken with this pleasure, as to lay aside the dispatch of more serious occasions, for a flight of feathers in the Air. The Physician saith, that it is the best exercise which is, ad ruborem, non ad sudorem; refreshing the spirits, and stirring up the blood a little, but not putting a man into any great sweat: for he that makes his Recreation a toil, makes himself likewise Pleasures thrall. Refresh your spirits, stir up your blood, and enable your bodies by moderate exercise: but avoid mixing of distemper with your pleasure, for that were not to refresh, but depress the spirits; not to stir up, but stop the course of blood; not to enable, but enfeeble the body. And so I descend to the next branch, treating of Recreations best sorting with the quality of a Gentleman. Of Recreations best sorting with the quality of a Gentleman. TO propose what Recreations may please best, I cannot, (because I know not how to stand affected) but I shall, as near as I may, recount what especial Recreations best sort and suit with your quality. Of all those which I have formerly touched and treated, there is none but may be approved and entertained with an equal indifferency, being (as I have said) tempered and moderated with discretion. But some there are I have not touched, which may be so much the more admired, forasmuch as they are by our young Gentlemen usually affected; yea, and as especial Ornaments to grace and accomplish them, generally esteemed: as Fencing and Dancing; the one to accommodate him for the Court, the other for the Campe. Of which two Recreations, to give my opinion freely, there is required a knowledge; but respectively to such (I mean) as only intent to Court or Gallant it: for these shall have occasion to make use of their knowledge, in the one to grace and beautify them; in the other to shield and defend them. Yet in neither of these would I have them to imitate their masters: for so may they turn Cowards, and so show themselves true Fencers. Or in their Dancing use those mimic tricks which our apish professants use; but with a reserved grace to come off bravely and sprightly, rather than with an affected curiosity. You shall see some of these come forth so punctually, as if they were made up in a fute of Wainscot, treading the ground as if they were foundered. Others you shall see, so supple and pliable in their joints, as you would take them to be some Tumblers; but what are these but jacke-an-apes in gay clothes? But others there are, and these only praiseworthy, who with a graceful presence gain them respect. For in exercises of this kind (sure I am) those only deserve most commendation, which are performed with least affectation. Now I have heard of some who could do all this; show an excellent grace in their carriage; express themselves rare proficients in all School-tricks; being so much admired as who but they: yet observe the close, and they spoil all with an English trick, they cannot leave it when it is well. It is said of Apelles, that he found fault with Protogenes, in that he could not hold his hands from his Table: and right so fares it with these young Cavalieroes, when they have shown all that may be shown to give content, striving to show one trick above Ela, they halt in the conclusion. For Fence-play, I have known some puffed up with a presumption of skill, to have been too apt in giving offence; so as of professors of worth, they became practisers of wrong. But see their unhappiness ● this conceit or overweening opinion of their surpassing skill, brings them many times to an unexpected end, by exposing themselves to inevitable dangers. And this they do either for vain glory, being ambitious after fame; or else out of a quarrelling disposition, being no less apt to conceive or apprehend the smallest occasion of offence, then to prosecute revenge upon occasion offered. For the first, the bravest and noblest spirits have been affected to it, I mean Ambition, but their ends were more glorious. Tussal. lib. 4. As Themistocles, Who walked in the night time in the open street, because he could not sleep: the cause whereof when some men did inquire, he answered, that the triumph of Miltiades would not suffer him to take his rest. Quint. Curt. lib. 4. The like might be observed in Alexander, Who sighed that his Father should win so much, and leave him so little to win. So as it is said that he wept, hearing that there was another world, saying, He had not yet won one World. But with these it fareth many times, as it did with Marius, who not contented with the glory he got in the Cimbrian wars, by seeking to augment it, did extenuate it. Yet are these more noble in their aims, than such whose Ambition it is to commit all impieties, only to gain them a perpetual infamy: As Pausanias, who killed Philip of Macedon, only for fame or vain glory; so did Herostratus burn the Temple of Diana, to get him a name by an infamous act. For the latter sort, being such as are given to quarrels, I have ever noted their gains to be small in all their adventures. For what are these but such as value blood at a low rate? they pretend how their reputation stands engaged; they cannot put up such disgraces but with touch of cowardice; and what a blemish were it, for ones reputation to be brought in question, upon terms so near concerning them, and not seek revenge? where the wide world would take notice of their disgrace, pointing at them in the streets, and saying, There go such and such who were most grossly baffled; preferring their blood before their honour, their safety before their reputation! O Gentlemen, how many of your rank and quality have perished by standing upon these terms! how many, and those of the choicest and selected'st rank, have exposed themselves to extremest danger, whereby they might gain themselves the stile of valiant! how many even upon trifling occasions have gone into the field, Heu quantum potuit terrae pelagique parari, Hos quem civiles hauserunt sanguine dextrae. and in their heat of blood have fallen? Sure I am, their dear Country hath felt their loss, to whom in all due respect they should have tendered both love and life, and not have made prodigal expense of that, which might have been a means to strengthen and support her state. Yet do I not speak this, as one insensible of wrong, or incapable of disgrace: for I know that in passages of this nature, public imputations require public satisfaction, so that howsoever the Divine Law, to which all humane actions ought to be squared, may seem to conclude, That we are to leave revenge to whom revenge belongeth; yet so passionate is the nature of man, and through passion so much weakened, as he forgets many times what the divine Law bids him do, and hastens to that which is own violent and distempered passion pricks him to. Now to propose my opinion, by way of direction, in a word it is this: As one may be a Ephes. 4.26 angry and sin not, so one may revenge and offend not; and this is by b Rom. 12.20. Prov. 25.21.22. heaping coals of fire upon our Enemy's head: for by this c Prov. 15.1. ●8. meekness is anger appeased, and we of our own fury revenged. But the best means to prevent occasion of distaste in this kind, is to avoid the acquaintance or society of such as are given to offence: whence it is that the wisest of Kings exhorteth us in these words; d Prov. 22.24. To have no familiarity with an angry man, neither go with the furious man. And why? Lest thou learn his ways, and receive destruction to thy soul. For indeed these, whose turbulent dispositions are ready to entertain any occasion of offence, albeit the occasion perchance was never intended, are unfit for any company, or to pass time withal in any Recreation. So as, of one of these it may be said, as was said of Scava, who showed apparent arguments of resolution, to slave himself to the servile yoke of tyrannous subjection; Lucan. Infelix dominum quantâ virtute parasti! How many courses, miserable man, hast thou tried; how many ways hast thou traced; how many adventures entertained; to get thee a Master, Fury, Spiritus magni magis quam utiles. Liv. dec. 3. lib. 10. Is●i sunt maximè no●ij, quibus minimè noti. Archtraitor to that glorious fortress of Patience? These are those Blood-bounds who are ever in quest, and are never satisfied in pursuit, till their eyes become the s●d spectators of a fall: yea, rather than these men will be out of action, they will engage themselves in maintaining other quarrels; so prompt they are to take offence, as a stranger's engagements must be made their own, rather than they will discontinue in their former profession. Another sort there are, who albeit they find ability in themselves to subdue and moderate this passion of fury by the sovereignty of reason, The saying of Adherbal, Bomilcars' son; Vincerescis Hannibal, sed uti victoria nescis. L. Flor. l. 2. c. 6. Resembling Clement the fourth, who had a pregnant wit for projecting, unfortunate for achieving. yet it fares with them as it did with Hannibal, Who knew better how to conquer, then how to make use of his conquest: or as it is said of Glendor, That he was more able to get a victory, then skilful to use it. So these, though reason like a discreet Monitor advise them to moderate their passions, yet so ambitious are they of popular praise, as rather than they will lose the name of being esteemed resolute, they will oppose themselves to all perils, and entertain a course in the eye of true valour most dissolute. Yet respect to our good name, being indeed the choicest and sweetest perfume, must not be so slighted, as to incur apparent terms of disgrace, and not labour to wipe off that stain, by showing some arguments, that we have so much conceit as to apprehend what an injury is, and so much Spirit as to take revenge on him, by whom the injury is offered. It is true; neither am I so stupid, as not to conceive how insupportable the burden of those wrongs is, which touch our name. So as indeed, (to speak as a man unto men) these wrongs are above the nature of mortality to bear: Object. for the natural man tasting more of Earth than Heaven, Sol. whilst he ponders the quality of his disgrace, and how far he stands engaged, in respect of the opinion of men, to bear himself like himself, and not to bury such wrongs in silence, as if senseless of the nature of an injury; he never considers what the divine Law enjoins, but casteth his eye upon the wrong he sustains. Wherein, if passion will needs overmaster reason, (albeit I do not hold it consonant to the Divine Law, Moral or national, but to all generous spirits experimentally useful) I could wish him to come off fair at the first, for this either wins him the buckler, or loseth it: so shall he ever gain to himself an esteem of conceit, in knowing the nature of a wrong; and an opinion of spirit, in daring to wipe off the disgrace that shall be laid upon him. For this is my Position, Fail at the first, and fail ever: for as the first onset terrifies the enemy, so in actions of this nature, the only means to gain opinion is to come off bravely in the beginning. Now perchance it may happen, that he from whom you have received wrong, will take no notice of your distaste, but will do as he did, who receiving a Challenge upon some personal touch, whereby he apprehended the occasion for his best advantage, of making choice (as the Challenged may) of time, place, weapon, and Second, returned this answer to the Messenger; For the time, I know not when; for the place, when that time comes, it shall be the Alps; for the weapon, it shall be Guy's sword that slew the Cow on Dunmoth heath; and for my Second, it shall be yourself, that I may bring you within the compass of Duelloes. If with such your fortune be to deal, (as many there are more valiant in tongue then hand, more apt to offer wrong then tender satisfaction;) know thus much, that these Alps which he hath named, and whereto he never means to come, is what place soever you shall meet him; the time, whensoever you shall have fit opportunity to encounter him; the weapon, though he choose it, you may refuse it, (because it is too closely kept to come to) and make choice of your own weapon, left by going to Warwick Castle to procure a sword, you forget your wrong before you come there; and the Second, your only self; that as you are particularly wronged, you may be particularly righted: for, as the wrong toucheth you and no Second, so you are to right yourself without a Second. But the safest and surest course, (as I said before) not to partake with men of this condition, is to refrain their company and conversation: Vid Homer in Iliad. for these fiery spirits, who have Thersites tongue and Ant aeus hand, are dangerous to consort with; for they seldom resort to any meeting, but either they do hurt, or receive it. So as, even in these tolerable Recreations of Horse-races, Cockings, Bowlings, etc. you shall ever see these throw one bone or other to make differences amongst men of quality and rank, wherein they will be sure to be interested as Seconds, if not as principal Agents. My advice therefore is, that you avoid their company, as disturbers of the public peace, interrupters of all honest Recreations, and protest enemies to all civil society. Plin. in Nat. Hist. For, as we read of the Bird Curuca, that she will rather hatch the eggs of another, then hatch none at all; so these will rather engage themselves in others differences, and like subtle Spiders spin the web of dissension, then be without employment: but they hatch the Cockatrice eggs, reaping the fruit of their labours to their shame. But we have insisted too long upon them; wherefore we will return to our former discourse. As we have briefly touched some Recreations well sorting with the quality of a Gentleman, being such as tend especially to his accomplishment outwardly; so are we now to treat of such as may confer no less benefit to the inward man, Knowledges are as the Pyramids, whereof History is the Basis. by enabling him for matters of discourse. Of which rank, Reading of History, is to be accounted as one tending especially thereto; and that not only in respect of discourse, but in respect of discipline and civil society; being there taught how to demean or behave ourselves in all our actions, how to moderate our affections, how to gain worthy esteem both in our managements public and private. Cicero entering into the commendation of Histories, honours them with this Rhetorical definition: Histories (saith he) are the witnesses of times, the light of truth, De Orat. l. 1. the life of memory, the mistress of life, the messenger of antiquity: In which notable exemplification, he shows what excellent fruits may be gathered from the select flowers of Histories. Whence Cicero moved Luceius to record his acts in his writings. Annot. in Tacit. dequo verè dici poorest, ut inclytus ille Lipsius de Guicciardino testatus est;" Prudens peritusque scriptor, et qui taies Lectores suos facit. First, how the passages and events of former times are there recorded; Secondly, how the truth of things by the light of History is discovered; Thirdly, our memory is revived; Fourthly, our life is directed; Fifthly, antiquities successively transcribed. In Tacitus are three notes which are required in a perfect History; First, Truth, in sincere relating, without having any thing haustum ex vano; Secondly, Explanation not only of the sequels of things, but also the causes and reasons; Thirdly, judgement in distinguishing things, by approving the best, and disallowing the contrary. Touching which three notes, we are to observe first, that there is necessarily required in every History a sincere relation of truth, foisting nothing in, which may seem either fabulous or impertinent. Likewise, it is not enough to lay down or explain the sequels or issues of things, but the causes and reasons from whence those sequels issued. Thirdly, there is required judgement in distinguishing probabilities from improbabilities; never setting ought down for a grounded truth without approved authority. Having thus proposed unto you the fruits redounding from History, as also what is required therein, to make it more generally affected; it rests now that I show my opinion touching your choice of Histories: of which subject, because I have * In the Survey of histories lately revised and amply enlarged; which might be rightly entitled, The Muse's Wardrobe, or, The Nobleman's Lecture, dilating on the various delights of History, the best accomplisher of true Gentility. Historicum nobilem et verum Aug. de Civit. Dei, l. 4. Graecorum Thucydidem et Herodotum, Latinorum Salustium & T. Livium facilè principes esse judicamus. Laur. Vall. in ●r●oem Thucyd. heretofore copiously treated, I will only speak a word, and so descend to the last branch of this Observation. Augustine, in his fourth book De Civit. Dei, calls Sallust A noble and true Historian; noble in respect of his descent; true in respect of his discourse. Neither doth he indeed deserve any lesser title: for his phrase is elegant without affectation; his discourse continuate without impertinent digression, and the Series of his History stored with much sententious instruction. From the depth of a princely judgement, Caesar's Commentaries have received most noble approbation. But if you would take view of a flourishing State, whose greatness never any attained to, being raised from such beginnings; be acquainted with * ●linius junior wished he might be mentioned in the Histories of Cornel. Tacitus, because he did foresee their succeeding memory. Tacitus or Livy, where you shall observe the courses and passages of many eminent Princes, how they bore themselves in their height, how in their hate. Hear you shall see, Those men who (as Cosmo saith) carry their heart in their mouth, are more to be pitied then feared: for these judge men only by the outward appearance: whereas Tiberius gloried in nothing so much, as in cunningly cloaking his purposes with fair pretences, going invisible, and deluding his subjects resolutions with a seeming good. Here you shall likewise observe others so obsequiously seeming, as they strove not only to satisfy the * Non solùm animis, sed etiam oculis servire Civium. Cic. minds, but eyes of the Citizens, understanding well enough, that the common sort of people were catcht sooner by a * Homines front & oratione magis quam ipso beneficio, reque capiuntur. Ibid. Tusc. 4. Quint. Curt. 6. cheerful countenance, and a pleasing outward semblance, than any other respect whatsoever. Some you shall see note much, yet will be seen to note little: therefore Agrippina in Tacitus, knowing her life to be attempted by Nero, knew well that her only remedy was to take no notice of the treason: so is Scipio described by Cicero, to be the most cunning searcher of men's minds; and Sylla by Sallust. Others you shall observe so much dejected presently upon any loss sustained, as they entertain affliction with a desperate sorrow, crying out with Afranius son, Alas me wretched! or Philotas-like, receive such deep impression or apprehension of their disgrace, as through it they are forced to lose the faculty of speech. Whereas others, like Furius Camillus are neither puffed up with honour, nor cast down with disgrace: as his Dictatorship could not make him too haughtily affected; no more could exile from his Country cause him to be dejected. Such was the resolution of the ancient Romans, who at the disaster of Canna, when their utter ruin and overthrow was rung in every place, did nothing unworthy themselves. Here you shall encounter with a jugurth, Speaking little, but doing much: there with a Catiline, Speaking much, but doing little. Here one, in all men's opinions worthy of an Empire before he had it, but most unworthy when he hath it; exemplified in a Cicero said of Galba's leaden and lumpish body: His wit had an ill lodging. Galba: there one much doubted before he have it, but generally loved when he had it; exemplified in b Who would have majesty preserved, virtute non cultu. Macrob. lib. 2. Saturnalium, c. 5. Dion. lib. 44. Severus. Again, observe you may in the course of Histories, how justly God hath shown himself towards such as practised treason against their Princes, though they were Heathens: find out one of all those who conspired Caesar's death in the Capitol, who died in their bed. For no sooner had Antony showed in his funeral Oration the thirty three wounds wherewith Caesar was deprived of life by his conspirators, and erected a Temple to Caesar, and sung a mournful hymn in memory of Caesar; then Trebonius and Decimus, were the first that were dispatched, being of the conspiracy. Cassius likewise was killed on his Birthday: who, some say, Appianus Alex. killed himself with the same dagger wherewith Caesar was killed: Yea, observe the misery of these Assassinate's, being so unhappy, as they could hardly find one so friendly, as to lend a hand to end their misery. For, Cassius offered his throat to Pindarus his Page: Brutus to Strato, who denying to do it, was answered by a servant; Votis tuis nec decrit amicus nec servus. Plut. in vit. Bomp. The like revenge was inflicted on Septimius, for betraying his Master Pompey. The like on the Magis, for their treacherous attempts, after the death of Cambyses. The like on Bessus for his disloyalty towards Darius. justin. Quint. Curt. And to descend to later times, even within the bounds of our own nation, what just revenge seconded those perfidious Complices; Alectus for conspiring against his dear Sovereign Carausius; and that Archtraitor Edrike, for his treacherous practices with Canutus the Dane, Vid. Polydor. Fab. Stow. & al. and breach of allegiance towards King Edmond? for seldom hath any State in any age been so happy, as it hath not bred a Catiline with a Catulus, a Cet●egus with a Curtius, a Sertorius with a Soranus, a Quadratus and Quintianus with an Aemilius and Coriolanus. Besides, you shall observe what justice and integrity appeared in the heathen, chastising such as would be bribed or corrupted, though they were their enemies. So as Mitbridates took Manius Acilius, Appian▪ Alex, one of the chiefest Ambassadors of the Romans, and set him contemptuously upon an Ass, till he was come to Pergamo, where he put molten gold in his mouth; reproving the Romans for taking gifts. The like reward had Tarp●ia, being corrupted by T. Tatius to deliver the Capitol: L. Flor. l. 1. c. 1 Quint. Curt. l. 3. for having betrayed the gates of the Capitol to the enemy, only upon promise, that they should throw her the bracelets, which they wore on their left arms; this they accordingly performed, throwing also their targets upon her, with which she was pressed to death. You shall likewise find there, what reverence the Pagans showed to their Idolatrous Temples; and how careful they were to observe their Country rites, which they esteemed sacred, and what success ever followed the enterprises of such as committed sacrilege. The miserable ends of such as committed sacrilege in their time. The very heathen observed, that after such times as the Grecians once offered violence to the Temple of Pallas, that they lost all their hope, and never thrived after. Lactantius reporteth of divers who were grievously punished for their impiety and profaneness towards the gods; as namely Fulvius the Censor, who for taking away certain marmoreas tegulas out of the Temple of juno Lacinia, Virg. Aeneid. 2. lib. 1. Lactant. de orig. error. cap. 8. was distraught of his wits. Appius Claudius for translating and conveying those sacred relics which were before consecrated to Hercules, within a while after lost the use of his eyes. Dionysius, who made a jest of Sacrilege, taking a golden cloak from jupiter Olympius his Image, a woollen cloak being put in stead thereof, saying, That a golden cloak was too heavy in Summer, and too cold in Winter, but a linsey-wolsey cloak was fit for both; cutting off also Aesculapius' golden-beard, saying, It was no reason that the son should have a beard, and Apollo his father have none; and taking away certain cups of gold which they held in their hands, saying, It was a great madness, to refuse them offered; was for these driven into banishment. Pyrrhus for robbing Proserpina's treasury, suffered shipwreck not far from the shore. Zerxes, who sent four hundred of his soldiers to Delphos, Valer. Max. to spoil the Temple of Apollo, had them all destroyed, and burnt with thunder and lightning. Marcus Crassus, for taking a great mass of money out of the Temple, which Pompey would not meddle withal, perished there with his whole Army. And here in Albion, we read of Brennus, who in his expedition to Delphos, was by a sudden hurly-burly, or immoderate fear, through a noise heard in the bowels of the earth, (raised indeed by the lamentable shriek and howl of the distracted Druids and ministers of Apollo) despairing of further success, Vid. Chron. perished with all his Army. Whence may be observed, how justly such were punished, who contemned the religion of their Country, robbing their Temples, and enriching themselves with the spoil of their gods: who albeit they were Idols and no gods, or rather Devils and no Idols, yet so ill was their success in all their affairs afterwards, as they attributed the cause of their miserable ends to the contempt of their gods. But howsoever this may seem erroneously ascribed, sure I am, that thus it may be rightly applied: that where God is dishonoured, his Temple profaned, and religion contemned, nothing can be successfully or prosperously concluded. What good moral men have flourished in evil times. It is wonderful to note in such evil times, so good men, as we shall every where meet with in the course of Histories. An Aristides for justice, a Celopidas for Temperance, a Numa for Prudence, a Trajan for Patience, an African for Continence; all which in this Cleanthes Table, History, show admirable virtues in a corrupt government. Again, reflect your eye on those whose love to their Country deserves eternal memory; and you will no less wonder at the greatness of their minds, than the happiness of those Realms that enjoyed them. Plut. initio Apotheg. regum. King Darius upon a time, by chance opening a great Pomegranate, and being demanded of what he would wish to have as many as there were grains in that Pomegranate? answered in one word, of Zopyrus'. Now this Zopyrus was a right noble and valiant Knight, who to reduce Babylon to the subjection of his Lord and Master, and defeat the traitorous Assyrians, suffered his body to be rend and mangled, and being thus disfigured, fled straightways to Babylon, where the Assyrians were entrenched: whom he made believe that Darius had misused him in this sort, because he had spoken in their behalf, counselling him to break up his siege, and to remove his Army from assaulting their City. They hearing this tale, and the rather induced to think it true, because they saw him so shamefully disfigured in his body, were persuaded to make him their chief Captain: by which means he betrayed them all, and surrendered both them and their City into his Master's hands. justin. lib. 1. i● fine. The like we read of Codrus Prince of Athens, who according to the counsel of the Oracle, sacrificed his life willingly, to preserve the Liberty of his Country. The like did Gobrias, who offered his body to slaughter, to free his Country of a tyrannous Traitor. Yet observe withal, the ingratitude of former Ages to men of best deservings; Non dolenda solùm sed periculosa etiam res est, cum ingratis habere negotium. Sen. Appian. Alexand. O ingrata patria, ne ossa quidem● Valeria Max. which caused Aeschines say, That though the City of Thebes and Athens were full of naughty men, yet not so full of any sort as of ungrateful men. This felt Hannibal, this felt Asdrubal, this felt African; while Asdrubal within, must be accused by Asdrubal without: and noble African, than whom none ever deserved better of his Country, may beg a resting place for his bones, but must not have it. Again, it will not be amiss to note the sundry occasions of wars, proceeding from the sundry dispositions of men. Some strove for sovereignty; others for preservation of their Liberty: where, so eager was the one of gaining glory, the other of defending their Liberty, they were many times brought to such straits, as there was more room for beholders, Quint. Curt. l. ●. than fighters; many bearing arms, but could not use them. No less remarkable is it, to note what incredile exploits have been achieved by a handful of men under a valiant Leader: whereby a more particular survey had of their actions, Plut. in Apotheg. Quarti d●x. tanti exercitus. L. Flor. l. 2. c. 18. we shall find that observation of Plutarch to be most true: Better is an army of Hearts, with a Lion to their Leader, than an army of Lions with a Hart to their Leader: An Army being said to derive her strength from herself, but her spirit from her Captain. In a word, Gentlemen, to observe the revolution of times, the mutation of States, the Natures and dispositions of persons, the issues and events of things, Pecoritus fatigatis quoque velocior domum gradus est. Sen. de tranquil. anim. lib cap. ●. would be an employment of no less delight than profit; conferring the ebbings and flow of foreign estates with our own. But to draw homeward, lest, like Messala Corvinus, by remembering the name of a stranger, we forget our own: there is no History more useful, or relation more needful for any Gentleman, than our own Modern Chronicles, where he shall observe many notable passages worthy his reading: As first, how his Country was first planted; how by degrees it became peopled; how to civility reduced; how by wholesome Laws restrained; and how by the providence of the Almighty, in so calm and peaceable manner established. Here he shall see a good King, but a bad man; there a good man, but a bad King. Again, here he shall see the State more weakened by civil broils, then foreign wars; Security being no less hurtful at home, than Hostility abroad. Scipio used to have this sentence in his mouth; That easy, favourable and affable Captains, were profitable to the Enemy, which though they were beloved of their Soldiers, yet they set little by them. This shall you see verified in the too much indulgency of many of our Captains, through which lenity they made many hopeful Soldiers absolute cowards. Again, to note the raising of many obscure persons to great honour; as likewise the pulling down of many eminent houses and families, would enforce no less admiration in us of God's divine Providence, then of his secret justice, who pulleth down, and setteth up, as seemeth best to his wisdom. To observe likewise, in the corruption of blood, what Noble Families have been tainted, which by the Prince's clemency were again restored. What dangerous attempts and practices have been undertaken, As in the reign of King john▪ not only to shake, but supplant the glorious frame of this Island; labouring to divide and remove all succession to this Crown, from the Royal Line of our Princes, and to invest foreign Princes therewith: where an English King was summoned to the French Kings Court, while Normandy was yielded by us, the Welsh invaded us, Lewis with a speedy arrival accosted us, and john himself was forced to leave us. Nay, which was more, one of the Nurseries of our Island was displanted; for at that time was Oxford of her Students forsaken and abandoned, A●. Dom. 1209. (which before, for the space of three hundred and nine years, had successfully flourished) so as not only the State, but Learning, the stern of State, became much weakened. Yet observe, how happily this storm was calmed, when it was least expected; for by the Viscount of Mellin his confession, lying then upon his deathbed, was the whole practice of the French, by a Frenchman discovered; which was no less happily afterwards prevented. For King john, being to repentace moved, took an oath before his Barons that all things should be reform, which the Barons likewise seconded with an oath to confirm his proceedings. So john was absolved, and that Crown which he had before resigned, he forthwith resumed; being in this made more happy, in that being once so unhappy, he came to defeat his foes, Having crossed the Seas to jerusalem. make sufficient trial of his friends, and recover that by submission, which he had lost by his pride. Again, if we should but read, and reading consider, how peaceful the government, how quiet the sleeps, how cheerful the delights were of such as came by lawful and lineal succession to the Crown; and the heavy Nights, troubled thoughts, broken sleeps, and many tedious hours which those were owners of, who came by usurpation to enjoy (with little joy) a princely Diadem; we should of necessity conclude with Pompey; who being cumbered with his Honour, exclaimed to see Sylla's cruelty, being ignorant after what sort to behave himself in the dignity he had, and cried out; O peril and danger never like to have an end! For to use one example for all; who should but consider the practices which Richard the third used to get a Crown, planting his kingdom on an indirect foundation, Blood, and those many strange passages and overtures which happened in his Reign, with those fearful Visions which appeared to him before his death, would certainly set down this for his rest; that it is not what we have without us, but what we have within us that procures us peace or disquiet. Id credo non fuit hominum, sed conscientia sc●lerum. Polydore▪ Virgil▪ Whence Polydore Virgil upon that terrible dream of Richard the third, the night before Bosworth field, in which he was s●aine, useth these words; I do not believe that these were the ghosts of men that did affright him, but the guilt of a troubled conscience that did torment him. Certainly, discourses of this nature cannot choose but minister profit with delight, and enable you that are Gentlemen to entertain the time with much content to them that hear you. For in this Treasury or Storehouse of History, you shall find better means, than all the Helps of Discourse which our weak Pamphleteers can publish, to enable you for discourse in all companies. For to restrain or tie yourselves to a set form of discourse, as if you were to do nothing without rules, were too pedantical: besides, you should be sometimes so scantled, for want of subjects, that unless the subject whereof you are to discourse fall happily within your own Element, your Ship for want of Sea-room would run aground. Whereas History (the sweetest Recreation of the mind) will afford variety, (being not curtailed by Epitome's, which are the Moths of History) both for tabletalk to delight, and discourse of more serious consequence. Which in my opinion would better seem a Gentleman, then to entertain time in nothing but the cry of Dogs, or flight of Hawks; which, as they are Gentlemanly pleasures, and worthily approved (as I formerly noted) so are they to be used but only as pleasures and Recreations: of which to speak sparingly were much better, then only to discourse of them, as if our whole reading were in them. Neither do I speak this without just cause; for I have noted this fault in many of our younger brood of Gentry; who, either for want of Education in Learning, or their own neglect of Learning, have no sooner attained to the strength of making their fist a Perch for a Hawk, but by the help of some books of Faulconry, whereby they are instructed in the words of Art, the will run division upon discourse of this pleasure: whereas, if at any time they be interrupted by occasion of some other conference, these High-flyers are presently to be mewed up, for they are taken from their Element. Wherefore, Gentlemen, let me advise you in a word, so to entertain time in Recreation, as the pleasure you take therein, draw not your minds from more serious and useful employments. I have proposed to you, and made choice for you, of some Recreations which may no less delight and benefit your minds, than these other active delights do your bodies; use them, and you shall find such pleasure in them, as you may perceive profit and pleasure so equally mixed, as if at first intended to make your delight perfect. And so I come to the last branch, showing how a Gentleman is to bestow himself in them. AS one said of Love, How a Gentleman is to bestow himself in Recreation. that it should be a toy and no toil; so say I of Recreation; the spirits should be cheered by it, not drowned in it; refreshed, not depressed. I do not like of this eagerness after pleasure; for it argues too much sensuality: The mind should be so tempered, as it may show an indifferency to the use of pleasure. Which I have surely found, as a main error in most part of young Gentlemen; whose eager appetite so unmeasurably pursuing the quest of pleasure, cannot contain itself from expressing outwardly, the love it conceives to such a pleasure inwardly. So as I have observed some entranced (as it were) with joy in the chase of Hare, or the flight of Hawk; which in my opinion argued much lightness: for no sooner was their pleasure at a stay or default, than all their former delight was turned to a contrary passion. I commend therefore his resolution who said; He was never so overjoyed with pleasure, but he thought it good to allay that surpassing joy, with the remembrance of the end of that pleasure. It is an excellent thing to moderate our joys, by considering the shortness of them: and to allay the height of them, by observing what breaches or intermissions are incident to them. Wherefore above all it becometh a Gentleman to be circumspect in this kind, for even by his outward carriage may his weakness be discovered. Sure I am there is nothing that tasteth more of true wisdom, then to temper our desires in effects of joy▪ So as I cannot sufficiently wonder, how Chylo being accounted one of the seven Sages of Greece, Defunctum asseruntimmodica laetitia & se●ii imbecillitate, etc. Laert. in vit. chill. should be so overtaken with joy, as to die with excess thereof. The like we read of Argia the prophetess, who being carried in a chariot of gold to the Temple by her two sons, whereat she conceived no less joy than if her two sons had been invested with the title of Emperors, through excessive joy immediately died. But these passions rather become women than men, who should be themselves still, but especially when they feel any such conceit undermining them. It is written of Polycrates, that meditating one day with himself, how he had never any thing which crossed him all his life, but enjoyed all success both at home and abroad, so as he became fearful to his foes, and powerful to his friends, resolved to try how he might cross his good fortune, by a voluntary incurring of losing that he did exceedingly love. Wherefore one day he went unto the Seaside, where taking off a Ring which he did especially tender, he threw it into the Sea, intending thereby to cross himself, whom fortune would not: but see how Polycrates was crossed in his crosses: for not long after a fisherman came and presented him the Ring he had lost, having found it in the belly of a fish; which did not a little trouble the Prince, saying; I perceive the gods owe me a displeasure, which they will do when I least expect it, and make me so much the more unfortunate, in that I never knew what misfortune meant. Which he afterwards found true, being deprived both of Crown and Dignity. Certainly, there is no means better to attemper and allay one's joy conceived in the pursuit of any pleasure, then to cross himself in the quest thereof: for this tasteth of true manhood, when one can master his affections, and stay himself in that he loves. Neither is this hard to do being once assayed; for we shall find more true content in the moderation of our pleasure, then in the pleasure itself. I have heard of some young Gentlemen, who purposely crossing themselves in some one pleasure or Recreation which they loved, and betaking themselves to their chamber, apprehended such a deep impression of the fruition of their pleasure, as they visibly (as it were) enjoyed that pleasure in their chamber which others enjoyed in the field. That conceit is strong I will not deny; but that it should work so strange and strong an effect, I am doubtful; yet whosoever they be (if any such there be) sure I am, they may well cross themselves in pleasures abroad; having such pleasant conceits within themselves. Now, as I would have young Gentlemen to use moderation in the exercise itself; so would I have them observe like moderation in their expense or charge requisite for that exercise or pleasure. It is dear bought pleasure that makes the posterity beggars. Nero was taxed for his prodigality, because he would have his Fishing-rods of gold, and his nets of purest silk; Suet. in Nero●●. Plut. in vit. S●xt. A●rel. Herodian. Vitellius for his embroidery, as well as his Epicurism; Lucullus for his Gardens; Antoninus for his Baths; Caracalla for his Robes; Commodus for prodigal expense in all Recreations. Now what madness is it to bestow that to delight me, which I may wish one day I had to sustain me? to bestow that on my pleasure, which I may chance need to relieve nature? We have heard of one within this City, who like a prodigal Heir to his father's thriving providence, bestowed an incredible mass of money to satisfy his five Senses: Virtus atque sapientia major in illis fuit, qui ox parvis opibus tantum imperium fecere, quam in nobis, qui ea bene parta vix retinemus Sallust. Majus dedecus est parta amittere, quam non omnino par avisse. Peculatu● ararii factus est Ibid. but sure I think he was distraught of his Senses, and therefore quickly satisfied. It is no pleasure but a brutish affection, which gives itself so over to delight itself, as rather than it will be restrained or moderated, will engage credit, state and all to have her desires fulfilled. Likewise in Games at Cards, Dice, Chess, or such houre-beguiling Recreatious, I would not have our Gentlemen to play for that which may occasion in them the least base or unworthy fear. You shall see some of these peasantly Gamesters, who partly for desire of winning, or else for fear of losing, show a perpetual palsy in their joints; so full of troubled thoughts they are, or passionate fears, which apparently discover a baseness of disposition in them, whom either hope of gain or fear of loss can drive to such extremes. I would have you therefore so to bestow yourselves in these, as they may never force a change of colour in you: for there is nothing that may derogate more from the native Character of a Gentleman, then to express the least semblance of fear, for the loss of aught that he shall play. Neither is it any less touch to a Gentleman, whose affections should be so composed as they may express his Nature, without any other character, to fall into passion for aught that he shall lose. Albeit I have heard of one, who (much subject to this imperfection) chanced to be reproved by his friend, who in friendly and familiar sort wished him either to learn more patience in gaming, or else to surcease from game. What (quoth he to his friend) dost thou think I am a stock or stone, that I should have no sense of my loss? Surely I think there is no man that knows how he comes by his money, but will be moved for the loss of it. But I approve not of his Maxim: You shall see an old Gamester bear all cross chances with an equal and undejected spirit, whereas our young Gamesters (for passion is most incident to Novices) upon a cross throw, pull their hair, tear the Cards, stamp and fret like gummed grogram: so far they are from patience for want of experience. Their younger and unmellowed years never felt the crosses of a Gamester, and therefore can hardly digest them when they come. Assuetis nulla sit passio. This the Philosopher seems to confirm, saying; Nothing can be violent, being once habituate, For use or custom as it makes perfectness, so it begets a composedness of mind, to endure with patience whatsoever the extremity of fortune may inflict. But now in my discourse of Passion, which makes men so much forget themselves as they will, rather than want a fit subject to revenge their ill fortunes on, minister occasion of offence to their dearest friends; there is one thing which I would have our young Gentlemen to take heed of, and that is, in their heat and height of passion to forswear gaming at all, or with such an one, because they had never fortune to be saviours at his hands; yet as men careless of what they swear, without respect to what they formerly protested, presently fall to game again with the selfsame company which they had so lately abjured. A doleful and woeful example we had of this, within these few years, of one, whose more eminent parts interested him greatly in his Country's hope; yet having dipped his hand in blood, was, according to justice and equity adjudged to die, which was afterwards accordingly executed. This Gentleman, whose education had been ever with the best, and in the most frequented places, used much gaming, at which he had generally ill fortune; so as feeling the smart of it, he resolved, binding his resolution with a solemn protestation, that if ever he gamed again, he might be hanged: which imprecation was so usual with him, as nothing more frequent. But see this Gentleman's miserable end! Within few years after, he suffered in himself what he had so often wished for himself. Take example hence, you, I say, who are so prodigal in oaths, vowing, protesting and swearing, in your heat of passion, what you are no less apt to forget having cooled your passion: For though you little fear the effecting of that which you wish to yourselves, yet time may come when you would wish you had not used those imprecations upon yourselves. There is another thing likewise which I could wish young Gentlemen to be mindful of, and it is to make distinction of times for their Recreations: for as all times are not for all pleasures, no more are pleasures for all times. We are therefore to reserve so much time for our more serious affairs, as not to give way to pleasure or delight, and so neglect what we should principally intend. Eresius. No expense is more precious than the expense of time; which is rather employed then wasted, when bestowed to the good and benefit of the imployer. So as, even in matters of pleasure or Recreation, I could wish you to betake you to those games which may best benefit your understanding; as in games at Cards, the Maw requires a quick conceit or present pregnancy; the Gleek (because of variety) requires a retentive memory; the Cribbage a recollected fancy; the Pinache quick and un-enforced dexterity. These are good exercises of the mind, and such, as being made Recreations only, and no tricks to circumvent, may afford some help or benefit to the Gamesters understanding. Now therefore, do not (Theotimus-like) prefer lust before your eyes; prefer not any profit you are to reap by gaming, before the inward benefit which you may reap by conceiving. It is a mercenary Trade to frequent Gaming houses for gain, to alter the property of a Recreation, and make that an anguish, which should be a solace; a torture, which should be a pleasure. For what pleasure can that Gamester enjoy by play, whose heart is surprised with Hope, Fear, Passion, Despair, and a thousand perturbations, Suet. in Tiber. which, like Tiberius' vision, are ever startling him? Surely, if there be any pleasure in these Recreations, those only enjoy it, whose minds are neither cast down with the fear of loss, nor overjoyed with the hope of gain; Si videas murem dominari alii muri, nunquid risum teneas? quantò magis ridiculum est quando tax illum, quod est minoris valoris quam mus, homini dominetur? Sen. making this use of all adverse or cross fortune: How miserable is that man, whose highest hopes rely on so light a mistress? How simple he, whose conceit is grounded on the constancy of fortune, who is only constant in inconstancle? How pitifully pitiless is his case, who puts finger in the eye, because he hath felt her frown? How forlorn is his hope, who having had experience of the extremest affronts of fortune, is ever giving himself occasion of new sorrowing? But chose, how truly happy is he, who makes use of fortunes braves, and receives what chance soever comes, with a cheerful brow? How truly blessed he, who cares as little for the insults of misfortune, as he prizeth all momentary success which so blind a Goddess can afford him? There is no grief more base or unworthy, then that which taketh beginning from loss in game: For why will we make a voluntary hazard to procure us sorrow? From this inordinate desire spring two main branches: Cupiditas acquirendi; aviditas retinendi: Eagerness of gaining; greediness of retaining. Why should any one imagine himself to be more dear tendered by fortune then another? If you play square, without intendment of advantage, then expect no more than another may look for, being equally interested in the share of fortune. For in these Recreations, as it is mercenary gain which is got by game; so it is an indiscreet grief to sorrow in loss, or rejoice in gain. Recreations are not to be used as men use Trades; these are to maintain us; the other to refresh us. So as they greatly pervert the use of pleasure, which make it a daily Task, as many of our English Gentlemen do; who, made Heirs of their Father's providence, esteem it the only Generous quality, to make use of their Father's Coin, without respect to his Care. These are they who blemish their Descent, and detract from the glory of their House, consuming the Sunshine of their days in works of darkness. I have read a conceited Treatise composed by an Italian, entitled A Supplication to Candle-light: discovering the abuses committed and curtained by the silence and secret shade of night. Where it might be demanded, as GOD in Esay did ask the Devil our subtle Watchman, Custos quid de nocte? And there he shows how a great Office is not so gainful, as the Principall-ship of a College of Courtesans. For no Merchant in riches may compare with these Merchants of maidenheads, if their female Inmates were not so fleeting and uncertain. Too many, I fear me, there be of these licentious Gamesters, who make sin a Recreation, wantoning in the Lap of impudence, exposing their estate and name to a miserable hazard: whose Youth, as it adds fuel to desire; so Age, the truest Register of the follies of Youth, will besprinkle those desires with the bitter tears of Repentance: grieving to have committed, what may hardly be redeemed. Blos. For he that surceaseth but then from sin when he can sin no more, forsaketh not his sins, but his sins forsake him. It is one thing to fall into light sins, through occasion only, or humane frailty: and another thing to fall through affected negligence and security. far be the latter from you, gentlemans, whose aims ought to be so much the more glorious, as your Descents are noble and generous. Though humane frailty move you to offend, labour to redeem that time wherein you did offend, by vying sins with sighs, those ungodly Tares with uncessant Tears; for if you will live when you be dead, you must die to sin while you be alive. And for as much as pardon cannot be procured, but where repentance is renewed: as we are Omnium notarum pe●catores, Omnium notarum peccatores; Et nulli rei nisi panitentiae nati. Tertul. de paenit. in fine. so should we be Omnium horarum poenitentes; as every hour sinning, so every hour sighing; as every hour committing, so every hour bringing forth fruits of remission. Thus, like Hismenias the Theban, who would show Musicians of all sorts, to imitate the best, and reject the worst; have I proposed and set down Recreations of all sorts, making choice withal of such especial and select ones, as best sort with the quality of a Gentleman; concluding how, and after what manner he is to bestow himself in them. Neither have I taxed any particular Recreation, provided that it transgress not the bounds of modesty, but admitted it as indifferent for the use of a Gentleman. Yea, such Recreations as may seem to undergo the censure of Lightness, have I not only not reproved, but worthily approved, being with decency used. Whereupon Gregory saith, I admire King David a great deal more, when I see him in the Choir, quicksands quid repre●en dendum non damnandum est. Sen. de Benef. l. 6. cap. 39 Davidem saltantem plus stupeo quam pugnantem. Moral. l. 27. c. 27. 2 Sam. 6.14. 1 Chro. 15.29. Ludam (inquit) ut illudant. Bonus Ludus quo Michol. irascitur, & Deus delectatur. Greg. Mag. then when I see him in the Camp: when I see him singing as the sweet Singer of Israel, then when I see him fight as the worthy Warrior of Israel: when I see him leaping, then when I see him weeping: when I see him dancing before the Ark, then when I see him drawing forth his Army to the field. When David fought with others, he overcame others, he wounded others, he made others sick: But when he danced before the Ark, and delighted himself, he was overcome himself, he was wounded himself, he was sick himself. But this sickness did rather affect him, then afflict him; joy him, then annoy him. I will play still (says he) that others may still play upon me. For it is a good sport when GOD is delighted, though Michol be displeased. Whence you see, that it is not the Recreation, but the circumstance tending to that Recreation, which for most part giveth occasion of offence; as the Time when God's Sabbath is not to be dishonoured, nor our serious occasions intermitted; the Place where the Holy ground is not by the feet of Lightness to be profaned, nor Places where justice is administered, to the exercise of such delights enured; the Persons who, we must take such heed lest the weakest of our Brethren be scandaled, or offence to any by our sports occasioned. Doing thus, we shall glorify God, not only in this life, but in that best and blessed life which is to come; if we fall not back into the same sins, but bid a long farewell to the illusions of the Devil; if with diligent attention to the Word of God, earnest desire of conversion, and continual confession of our sins, we procure the careful eye of the Almighty to watch over us. For it sufficeth him in his great mercy that we surcease from sin, whereby we shall be more easily moved to the practice of all good works. Chrysost. In Gen. Hom. 5. Tom. 6. cap. 1. Wherefore to conclude this Observance with that exhortation of golden-mouthed chrysostom, to the end we may render more honour to his Sabbath: Let not any one henceforth be seen trying masteries on Horseback, nor spending any part of the day in unlawful meetings; Let not any one henceforth consort himself in games at Cards or Dice, or the tumultuous noise which ariseth from thence. For I pray you answer me (saith he) what profit is there in fasting, if all the day eating nothing, you game, sport, swear and forswear, and so spend the day in worse than nothing? Let us not, I beseech you, be so negligent in that weighty affair of our salvation, but rather let our communication be of Spiritual things. And let every one take in his hand a godly book, and calling his Neighbours together, water both is own understanding and theirs who are assembled, with Heavenly instructions, that so we may avoid the deceits of the Devil. Performing this, Gentlemen, your Recreations shall be healthful to yourselves, helpful to your Country, delightful to the virtuous, and beseeming men of your rank, nobly generous. THE ENGLISH GENTLEMAN. Argument. Of Acquaintance; Of the choice of Acquaintance; Of constancy in the choice of Acquaintance; Of reservancy towards Acquaintance; Of the absolute end of Acquaintance. ACQVAINTANCE. THE comfort of an Active life consists in Society, Observat. 6 Of the use of Acquaintance. as the content of a Contemplative consists in Privacy. Intermission of Action in the former, is a kind of death; intention to Devotion in the latter, is a pleasant life. One. Dentatus apud Senecam de tranq. anim. For solitary places are the best for prayer; but public for practice. We read that Christ went out into a solitary place, Mar. 1.35. Acts 6.9. and there prayed: but he entered into the Synagogue, and there preached; that such Libertines as were there trained might be reclaimed. And Wisdom cryeth without, and uttereth her voice in the streets, Prov. 1▪ 20▪ that her words might be practised. As there is no public State which can subsist without commerce, traffic, and mutual society; so there is no creature living, whose life would not be tedious, being debarred from all use of company. There are two Birds which are noted both in divine and humane writ, to be lovers of solitariness; the Owl in the Desert, and the Pelicane in the Wilderness: Which two, among divers other birds, were accounted unclean, and therefore were not to be eaten by the jews. As retiredness from occasions abroad, makes us more serious in occasions at home: so this privacy or solitariness makes the memory more retentive in affairs useful to ourselves, but withdraws our hand from affording help or assistance to others. Deut. 14.16, 17. But life should be communicative; not only intending itself; but labouring wherein it may do good to any. For whereas Saint Bernard saith, that the a Bern. de vitâ solitariâ. affinity is near between the dwellers in a Cell and in Heaven: it is to be understood, that such whose mortified affections, and regenerate, will have concluded all b Honours Mundi, tumores Mundi. Eucher. Epist. Par●en-de contempt. mundi. worldly honours to be worldly tumors; and all c Omnis seculi honour, Diaboli est negotium. Hil. can. 3. in Matth. Quaeremus unum bonum in quo sunt omnia, bona et sufficit. Aug. Med. secular honour to be the Devil's traffic, have stepped near unto Heaven. Neither are we to conclude thence, that such who have to deal in the world, by commerce at home and abroad, are excluded from this affinity. For there are many (as we are to be charitably persuaded) who live in the world, and have to do with the world, yet are not of the world; that is, are not so affected to the world, as they could not find in their hearts to forgo all things they have in the world, for the love of him that created the world. Yea, who would not say, and with much comfort affirm, We will seek one good wherein consisteth all good, and that sufficeth, we will seek one joy wherein consisteth all joy, and this only joys us. It is * Greg. Diligenti Deum sufficit ei placere quem diligit, quia nulla major expetenda est remuneratio quam ipsa dilectio. Leo Magnus Serm. de jejuno. Mat. 4.1.3. Psal. 63.4. 1 Tim. 2.8. job. 7.1. Bernard. in. 4. lib. de consid. ad Eugen. in eodem lib. cap. 4. Periclita●ur castitas in delitiis, humilitas in divitiis, pi●tas in nego ●io, verit as in multiloguio, charitas in hoc nequam saeculo. Bern. Grace and not the Place, which saveth the soul. For, as there may be a Wolf in Sheep's clothing, so there may be a worldly mind in a Hermit's dwelling. Man's security is the Devil's opportunity, which may be found in the Wilderness as well as in the World, neither is the one place less subject to temptation then the other. The Wilderness is secret, yet Christ was tempted in it. The Night is silent, yet doth that princely Prophet warn us, To lift up our hands in the night watches of temptation. For the life of man, as it is a continual temptation, so is there neither time, place, sex nor condition exempted from temptation. The Monk's Cell and the Monarch's Court are equally subject to it. This, devout Bernard seems to confirm in his description of such as professed a Monastic life, saying; They were large promisers, but slow performers; fair tongued flatterers, but snarling backbiters; simple-seeming dissemblers, but malicious betrayers. Again, We (saith he) receive all in our Monasteries, in hope to better them, whereas in the Court it is more usual to receive such as are good, then to make them good: for we have found by experience, that more good men have decreased then profited in it. Hence we may conclude this point, that no place is privileged from temptation, neither Cell nor Court▪ but those places are, and have been ever most subject to danger, where men were left to themselves to enter lists with temptation: Which proceedeth either from the natural frailty of man, in that he falleth from best to worst; or his want of judgement to discern best from worst: whence the Poet most divinely concludeth, When want of judgement reigns in humane breast, The best is ta'en for worst, the worst for best. GOD in his sacred wisdom having created man, thought it not good that he should be alone; and therefore made him an help meet for him. It was an excellent saying of that sage Cynic, who seeing a young man all alone by himself, and demanding of him what he was doing, I am talking (quoth the young man) with myself; Take heed (saith he) thou talk not with thine Enemy. For howsoever Cato might say, in respect of the inward delight he took in Contemplation, I am never less alone, then when alone; we shall find this true, that man is never more ready to give way to temptation, then when he is alone. How needful then is Acquaintance, being indeed the life of the living; the particular benefits whereof extend to discourse, advice, and action? IT is Experience hath begot wisdom, Asrariu●. Of the benefit we reap by Acquaintance in matters of discourse. and memory as a mother, hath brought it forth. Now, what experience could we gain, if we should only be left to ourselves, and have none to help us in treaties or matters of conference? It is said of Demosthenes, that he recovered his speech only by direction; long would it be ere we attained to any perfection of speech, either in manner or matter, if we wanted these usual helps of conference, which enable us when, where and how we should speak. For as the Satire was afraid at the first sight of fire; or that Captain, who looking himself in a glass when he was angry, was affrighted with his own countenance; so should we, having never consorted or conversed with men, stand amazed when we approached their company. For what is it that ministers boldness and audacity to men, save their usual frequenting of assemblies? or what is it, that so much benefits their knowledge, but their acquaintance with such who are professants of knowledge? Plutarch reporteth, that Plato came forth of Asia into Cilicia, for no other cause but only to see his dear friend Photion the Philosopher. Amor à praesente gauder, absent dolet. Bern. sup. Cant. See here the love of good men one to another; for amongst evil men can be no true friendship. For it is the aim of Acquaintance that makes it good or evil; as to insinuate one's self into acquaintance for their own ends, to wit, to profit by it, or work on others weakness, this is acquaintance for Machiavels Scholars, whose principal aim is to undermine; and under pretence of amity, shrowded their villainy. These hold concurrency with Friar Clement, Nihil interest habere estium apertum, vultum clausma. Cicero. No rush without mire, no corrupt heart without sin. Ravilliae, jaurequy, Baltazar Gerard. They have an open gate, but a shut countenance; or if an open countenance, a close shut heart. Aristotle saith, that friendship is one soul which ruleth two hearts, and one heart which dwelleth in two bodies, whereas these men, whose acquaintance hath relation to their own peculiar ends, have a heart and a heart; a Heart outwardly professing, and a Heart secretly practising; a Heart outward, and a Heart inward; outwardly pretending, and inwardly plotting. These are no Acquaintance for you, Gentlemen; their Hearts are too far from their mouths; learning to prosper by others errors. Yea, by often conversing and practising with others, no less cunning than themselves, they have so far prevailed, as they are not only able to match them, P●in. in Na●. hi●●. but outstrip them: Serpens nisi serpentem comederit, non fit Draco: These are they who hatch the Cockatrice eggs; come not therefore near them, job 20.16. for The poison of Asps is under their Lips. Yea, they suck the gall of Asps, and the Viper's tongue shall slay them. Yet, to leave you alone without company, would make your life as much loathed, as choice of Acquaintance makes you love it. He is a weak Prince that enjoys an Empire without people; and no less desolate or disconsolate in his state; who wants not for means, yet wants a friend to whom he may impart his mind. Lend me your hands therefore (Gentlemen) and I will direct you in a way how to make choice of Acquaintance in matters of Advice, which is the second benefit redounding from the use of Acquaintance. Of the choice of Acquaintance in matters of advice. IF a man (saith Seneca) find his friend sad and so leave him; sick without ministering any comfort to him; and poor without relieving him▪ we may think such an one goeth to jest rather than visit or comfort. Whence we may observe the office or condition of a friend, who, if his friend be sick, he will visit him; if ●ad, he will cheer him; if poor, he will relieve him; if afflicted in mind, he will comfort him; otherwise his friendship is but dissembling, his visiting him a mere mocking of him. job called his friends Miserable comforters, job 16.2. because their discourses were rather afflictions than comforts, their counsels rather corrosives than cordials, their exhortations rather scourge and scoffings, then soule-solacing refresh. These do not advise friends, but despise them; miserable are such Comforters. Wherefore I may well distinguish Acquaintance into two sorts; the one Halcion-like, come to us in a storm; the other Swallow-like, La●rt. in vit. Periand. Omnia pro tempore, nihil pro veritate. Optatus. l. 1. 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 Eccles. 13.1. draw near us in a calm. The former sort observe Periander's precept, Show thyself still the same, whether thy friend be in prosperity or adversity: but the latter observe that sentence of Optatus, All for the time, but nothing for the truth. All Acquaintance may be either compared to pitch staining, or to balm curing. He that toucheth pitch shall be defiled therewith, saith the son of Sirach; such is the nature of much Acquaintance, especially in these latter days, where vanity is more affected, than the practice of virtue, which should be only loved. Where many return worse than when they went forth, confirming that sentence, Sanabimur, si separ●mur à coetu. But Balm, it refresheth, cheereth, and cureth; such is that Acquaintance, whose conceits are delightful, discourse cheerful, and instructions fruitful. These, if we be at any time doubtful, will advise us; if in necessity, will relieve us; if in any affliction, either outward or inward, will bear a part with us, to allay grief in us. A little Stybium is too much, such are the first; a great quantity of Styrax is too little, such are the last. A * Whose wood is sweetest, shade coolest, and coal hottest. Fabiolae M●us. 15. juniper-tree maketh the hottest coal, and the coolest shadow of any tree: the coal is so hot, that if it be rak't up in ashes of the same, it continueth unextinguished by the space of a whole year: so doth true friendship or faithful Acquaintance; it affordeth the coolest shadow to refresh us, and the hottest coals, implying fervour of affection, being once kindled, to warm us. When poor Andr●mache craved Ulysses' advice, what he thought best to be done in behalf of her young son Astyanax; Lat●at, ●aec una salus. Sc●. in Troad. Conceal him, (said he) this is the only means to save him. This showed his faithfulness in advising, albeit her Country's foe; for otherwise he would have persuaded her to submit herself and him to the hand of the merciless soldier; or reap a benefit by their bondage, making them his own Captives: As it is in the fable of the Crow, who coming to the Eagle that had got a Cockle, the fish whereof he could not get out neither by force nor art, he counselled him to mount up on high, and throw the Cockle down upon the stones, and so break the shell: now all the while did the crafty Crow stay below expecting the fall: The Eagle throws it down, the shell is broken, the fish by the Crow is taken, and the Eagle deluded. Many such Counsellors there be, who advise not others for their good, but their own good. Others there be, who make use of their friends or Acquaintance merely for their own ends; and rather than they will be prevented of their aims, they will expose the life and safety of their friend to imminent peril. And these resemble the Fox, who seeing a Chestnut in the fire, made use of the Cat's foot to take it out. But these are not those friends, whose advice is faithful, as their friendship is firm and grateful. Their aims are indirect, their advice tends to their own benefit, their counsel tastes of profit, and their directions become as pitsals to their friends. Those to whom I would have Gentlemen known, are men of another rank and quality, In Tiberius' t●me. appearing like the Canii, Senecae, Aruntii, and Sorani; whose admirable virtues were inimitable in so corrupt a government. Neither would I have them to shake off these friendly Monitors, if at any time their advice relish not half well to their palate; but rather honour them for their virtuous sincerity, as Epaminondas honoured Lysias, Agesilaus Xenophon, Scipio Penetius, Alcibiades Socrates, Achilles' Phoenix, sent him by his father Peleus. For such as will not endure a friendly reproof, I would have their Acquaintance do with them as Plato did with Dionysius, who perceiving him to be incorrigible, left him. The rebukes of a friend are better than the kisses of an enemy; Prov. 27.5.6. for the one, though at first displeasing, tend (if rightly used) to his conversion; but the other, though pleasing, tend (if not prevented) to his confusion. Had Alexander understood this aright, he would have preferred the faithful advice of his affectionate Clitus before all his conquests; for by his instruction might he, have learned Humility, which lesson had been worth his world's Monarchy. Had Nero, that Precedent of Tyrants, or Monster of men, given ear to the wise advice of his loyal and learned Seneca, he might have found a Subject to love him, a Scholar to live with him, a Soldier to fight for him, and a Mother to bless him. For surely, as of all possessions friendship is most precious; Lacrt. in v●t. Biant. being suited with virtue, without which there is no true friendship; so are we to value the life of our friend, as the crown of our glory. For tell me, are you sad? your friend's conceit, as a sovereign receipt, will cheer you. Are you disposed to be merry? mirth alone, Suct. in Aug. is a single consort, your friend will partake with you. Would you have one to pass the tedious night away, in telling tales, or holding you with talk? your friend will invent a thousand pastimes to cheer you, and make the night seem less tedious unto you. Is the burden of your griefs too heavy to bear? you have a friend to share with you in your burden. In brief, want you comfort? he will supply it; want you means to relieve your wants? he will afford it; want you counsel? he will impart it; want you all that man can want? you want not a friend who will supply your wants with his want. And so I descend from the benefit redounding from Advice, to the third and last, which is the profit or benefit which redounds from one friend to another in every peculiar action, exercise, or recreation. CIcero, Tusc. lib. 1. Of the benefit properly derived from one friend to another in every peculiar action. the glory of Rome, and flower of Orators, exemplifying the prowess of Themistocles and Epaminondas, useth these words; The Sea shall sooner overwhelm the Isle itself of Salamine, than it shall drench the remembrance of the Salamine triumph: and the town of Leuctra in Boeotia shall sooner be razed, than the remembrance of the field there fought, forgotten. But howsoever these Monuments may be razed or defaced by continuance of time, sure I am that the love which they showed to their friends, even to the apparent danger of their own lives, shall eternize their memory. Pelopidas a noble Grecian, skirmishing with the Lacedæmonians against the Arcadians, until such time as being hurt in seven places, he fell down at last for dead: Then presently Epaminondas, out of a princely resolution and noble affection to his distressed friend, stepping forth bestrid him, and fought to defend his body, he alone against many; till being sore cut on his arm with a sword, and thrust into the breast with a pike, Plutarch. in Pelopida, initio. he was even ready to give over. But at that very instant, Agesipolis King of the Lacedæmonians came with the other point of the battle in a happy hour, and saved both their lives when they were past all hope. Here see apparent arguments of true love, mixed with a noble and heroic temper: for friends, are to be tried in extremities, either in matters of state or life: in state, by relieving their wants; in life, by engaging themselves to all extremes, rather than they will suffer their friend to perish. These are they who will latch the blow of affliction laid upon their friends, Plutarch. in Paulo Aemilio, sine. with the buckler of affection; preferring death before their friend's disgrace. Marcus Servilius a valiant Roman, who had fought three and twenty combats of life and death in his own person, and had always slain as many of his enemies as challenged him man to man; when as the people of Rome resisted Paulus Aemilius triumph, stood up and made an Oration in his behalf: in the midst whereof he cast up his gown, and showed before them the infinite scars and cuts he had received upon his breast; the sight of which so prevailed with the people, that they all agreed in one, and granted Aemilius triumph. Here observe the tender respect of one friend towards another's honour: Nihil tan aequè oblectaverit animum quam amicitia fidelis. Sen. in tranq. anim. there is nothing unassayed, nothing unattempted, which may procure or further it. For this friendship or combination of minds, as there is nothing more precious, so there is nothing which doth comparably delight or solace the mind like unto it, being faithfully grounded. Their discourse (like some choice Music) delights our hearing; their sight (like some rare Object) contents our seeing; their presence fully satisfies us in our touching; their well-seasoned jests (like some delicious banquet) relish our tasting; and their precepts (like sweet flowers) refresh our smelling. Vt flores qui odore delectant. Ibid. Nullus sine amicis locus amaenus: Omnis sine sociis mundus eremus. Thus is every sense satisfied, by enjoying that which it loveth: as the senses wanting their proper objects, become useless; so men, whether in prosperity or adversity wanting friends to rely on, are wretched and helpless: So as there is no greater wilderness then to be without true friends. For without friendship, society is but meeting; acquaintance a formal or ceremonial greeting. Whereas it is friendship, when a man can say to himself, * The expressive Character of a real friend. 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉. I love this man without respect of utility: for (as I formerly noted) those are no friends but hirelings, who profess friendship only to gain by it. Certainly, whosoever hath had the happiness to enjoy a true and faithful friend, to whom he might freely impart the secrets of his breast, or open the Cabinet of his counsels, he (I say) and only he hath had the experience of so rare a benefit daily redounding from the use of friendship: where two hearts are so individually united, as neither from other can well be severed. And as it is certain, that in bodies inanimate, union strengtheneth any natural motion, and weakeneth any violent motion; so amongst men, friendship multiplieth joys, and divideth griefs. It multiplies joys; for it makes that joy communicative, which before was single; it divideth griefs; for it shares in them, and so makes them less. Now perfection of friendship, is but speculation, if we consider the many defects which are for most part subject to all worldly friendship: yea, and as the world increaseth in age, so it decreaseth most commonly in goodness: for in Courts, are suits and actions of Law; in Cities, tricks and devices to circumvent; Name in ●●ro sunt lights & actiones moles●●. Posidio. in the Country, engrossing and regrating, of purpose to oppress. It is rare to see a faithful Damon or a Pythias; a Pylades or Orestes; a Bitias or a Pandarus; Nisus or Euryalus. And what may be the cause of this, but that the love of every one is so great to himself, as he can find no corner in his heart to lodge his friend in? In brief, none can gain friends, and make a saving bargain of it, for now it is a rule commonly received, He that to all will here be grateful thought, Si qu●s in hos mundo cunctis vult gratus baberi; Det, capiat, quaerat, plurima, pause, nihil. Plato. Must give, accept, demand, much, little, nought. So as it may seem, it is not given to man to love and to be wise; because the Lover is ever blinded with affection towards his beloved; so as, he disesteemes honour, profit, yea life itself, so he may gratify his beloved. But my opinion is quite contrary; for I hold this as a firm and undoubted Maxim; that he who is not given to love, cannot be wise. For is he wise, that reposeth such trust in his own strength, as if he stood in no need of friends? Is he wise, who dependeth so much on his own advice, as if all wit and wisdom were treasured in his brain? Is he wise, who being sick would not be visited; poor, and would not be succoured; afflicted, and would not be comforted; thrown down, and would not be raised? Surely in the same case is he, who flights the purchase of a friend, preferring his own profit before so inestimable a prize. There is none, whether he be valiant, or a professed coward, but may stand in need of a friend in a corner. For be he valiant, he stands in need of a friend to second him; if a coward, he needs one to support him: Therefore, whosoever wanteth fortitude, whether it be in mind or body, let him embrace friendship; for if his weakness proceed from the mind, he shall find a choice receipt in the breast of his friend, to strengthen and corroborate him, so as grief may assail or assault him, but it cannot dismay or amate him. Again, if his weakness proceed from the body, that weakness is supplied by the strength of his friend, who will be an eye to direct him, and a foot to sustain him. Telephus, when he could find none amongst his friends to cure his wound, permitted his enemy to do it: and he who purposed to kill Prometheus the Thessalian, opened his imposthume with his sword. If such effects have proceeded from enmity, what rare and incredible effects may be imagined to take their beginning from amity? Then which as nothing is stri●ter in respect of the bond, so nothing is more continuate in respect of the time: being so firm, as not to be dissolved; so strict, as not to be annulled; so lasting, as never to be ended. Neither is this benefit derived from friend to friend, only restrained to matter of action or employment; but extendeth itself to exercises of pleasure and recreation. For tell me, what delight can any one reap in his pleasure? wanting a friend to partake with him in his pleasure? Takes he delight in Hunting? let him choose Acquaintance that may suit him in it: The benefits which redound from the mutual union or communion of friends in the exercise of Pleasure. not only a Hunter, but one whose conceit (if occasion serve) can reach further; such an one I would have him as could make an Emblem of the Forest where he rangeth, compose a Sonnet on the objects which he seeth, and fit himself for aught he undertaketh. Of which rank, was that merry Epigrammatist, (as it may be imagined) who being taxed for wearing a horn, and could not wind it, made this reply; My friend did tax me seriously one morn, That I should wear, yet could not wind the horn: And I replied, that he for truth should find it, Many did wear the Horn that ne'er could wind it: howsoever of all, that man may wear it best, Who makes claim to't as his ancient Crest. joci non sint nimis salfis, multò minus in sulfis: illi enim multum ●fficiunt; isti, nisi per cachinnum, parùm proficiunt. Vanitati propriè festivitas cedit. Cic. de orat. lib. 2. To intervene conceits or some pleasant jests in our Recreations whether discursive or active, is no less delightful than useful: but these jests should be so seasoned, as they may neither taste of lightness, nor too much saltness. jests festive are oft times offensive, they incline too much to levity; jests civil (for into these two are all divided) are better relishing, because mixed with more sobriety and discretion. Catullus answer to Philippus the Attorney, was no less witty than bitter: for Catullus and he being one day at high words together; Why barkest thou, quoth Philippus? Because I see a Thief, answered Catull●●. He showed himself a quick Anatomist, who branched man into three parts, saying, That man hath nothing but substance, soul, and body; Lawyers dispose of the substance, Physicians of the body, and Divines of the soul. Present and pregnant was Donato's answer to a young Gentleman, who, beholding a brave company of amorous Ladies and Gentlewomen, meeting Donato coming towards Rome, as one admiring their number and feature, said, As many Stars as in the heavens be; So many Maids has Rome to welcome thee. As many kids as on the downs we see; So many Prostitutes in Rome there be. Quot coelum stellas, tot habet tua Roma puellas. by and by answered Donato, Pascua quot haedos, tot habet tua Roma Cinaedos Phaedro being asked, why in the Collects, where Christian Bishops, and Pagans be prayed for, the Cardinals were not remembered? answered, they were included in that prayer, Oremus pro haereticis et Schismaticis. Well requited was that young Scholar, who giving his Master this Evening salute: Domine magister, Deus det tibi bonum serò; was answered by his Master: Et tibi malum citò. Witty but shrewd was that answer of a disputant in my time to his Moderator in Posterior: who demanding of him, what the cause should be, that he with whom he disputed, should have so great a head and so little wit; replied, Omne m●jus continet in se minus. A base mind was well displayed in that covetous man, who unwilling to sell his corn while it was at an high price, expecting ever when the Market would rise higher; when he saw it afterward fall, in despair hanged himself upon a beam of his chamber; which his man hearing, and making haste, cut the rope and preserved his life: afterwards, when he came to himself, he would needs have his man to pay f●r the cord he had cut. But I approve rather of such jests as are mixed with less extremes: Scipio Nasica. pleasant was that answer of Scipio Nasica who going to Ennius' house in Rome, and ask for Ennius, Ennius bade his maid tell him he was not within. So Ennius on a time coming to Scipio's house, and ask whether he was at hom●? I am not at home, answered Scipio: Ennius wondering thereat; Do I not know that voice (quoth he) to be Scipio's voice? Thou hast small civility in thee (answered Scipio) that when I believed thy maid thou wert not at home, yet thou wilt not believe me. Likewise to report a jest, is an argument of a quick wit, as Leo Emperor of Byzantium answered one, who being crook-backt, jested at his bleared eyes, saying, A tergo Nemesis. Thou reproachest me with the defect of nature, and thou carriest Nemesis upon thy shoulders. Domitius reproaching Crassus that he wept for a Lamprey; Crassus answered, but thou hast buried three wives without one tear. Alexander ask a Pirate, that was taken and brought before him, How he durst be so bold to infest the Seas with his piracy? was answered with no less spirit, That he played the Pirate but with on ship, but his Majesty with a huge Navy: which saying so pleased Alexander that he pardoned him: reaping especial delight in that similitude of action, by which was transported the current of the King's affection. Other Conceits there are more closely touched, covertly carried, and in silence uttered; as that of Bias, who, when an evil man asked him what goodness was? answered nothing: and being demanded the cause of his silence, I am silent, quoth he, because thou enquirest of that which nothing concerns thee. The same Bias sailing on a time with some naughty men, by violence of a tempest, the ship wherein they were became so shaken & tossed with waves, as these naughty men began to call upon the gods; Laert. in vi●. Biant. Hold your peace (said Bias) lest these gods you call upon, understand that you be here. But lest by dwelling too long upon jests, I forget the Series of my discourse, I will succinctly conclude this branch, with my judgement touching Acquaintance in this kind. As I would have Gentlemen to make choice of their Acquaintance by their sound, A rule of infallible direction, touching choice of Acquaintance. Quis quis pl●s justo non sapit ille sapit. Martial. l. 14. Those jests are best seasoned, that are least salted. so I would not have them all sound: Music doth well with airs, but there is no Music in that discourse which is all air. My meaning is, I would not have these Acquaintance which they make choice of, all words or flashes of wit: for I seldom see any of these who are so verbal, much material; or these who are all wit, but through height of a selfe-conceipt they fall to much weakness. For these many times prefer their conceit before the hearers appetite, and will not stick to lose their friend rather than their jest; which in my opinion is mere madness: for he that values his jest above his friend, over-values his conceit, and had need of few jests, or great store of friends. I have known some wits turn wittols; by making themselves Buffouns and stale jesters for all assemblies. Which sort are fitter for Gentlemen to make use of as occasion serves, then to entertain them as Bosome-acquaintance▪ for as the benefit which redounds to one from another in action, exercise, and recreation, is mutually imparted; so is the danger no less incident one to another, where the ends or uses are perverted. Thus far have we proceeded in the discovery of those particular benefits which redound from discourse, advice, and action, by means of Acquaintance: being the Cement which so firmly joineth minds together as they may be encountered by extremes, but divided never. Now for as much as the essential trial of Acquaintance consists in matters of highest consequence, we are now to address ourselves to such a choice, as our choice may admit no change. Of the choice or judicious approvement of Acquaintance, in affairs of highest consequence. Amicos sequere quos non pudeat elegisse. Bias. Neither Timist nor Timonist are within the lists of Acquaintance to be entertained. The Timist or Time-observer displayed and displaced. THe precept of that ancient Sage is worth remembering, Follow such friends as it may not shame thee to have chosen. Certainly, there is no one argument to evince man of indiscretion, more holding then this; That he makes no difference or distinction in the choice of his friends: In which respect no man can be to wary or circumspect, because herein, for most part, consisteth his welfare or undoing. It were meet therefore that a Gentleman made choice of such for his friends or acquaintance, as are neither Timists nor Timonists, Fawners nor Frowners'. For the first sort, they are for all seasons, and all weathers; so as they may be fitly compared to the Hedgehog, who hath two holes in his fiedge; one towards the South, another towards the North: now when the Southern wind blows, he stops up that hole, and turns him Northward; when the North wind blows, he stops up that hole likewise, and turns him again Southward. Such Urchins are all Temporizers: they turn as the wind blows, and suit themselves for every occasion. These friends or Acquaintance who follow not us but ours, will be seen in all Liveries: Princes have felt the inconveniency of them, and inferior States have not been free from them: but the highest States, generally, are most subject to these retainers; Nec tuta fiducia regum, quae levibus plerunque suis nituntur amicis. Philip. Coming. l. 2. For Princes by experience we have seen Abused most where most their trust hath been. Now there are two kinds of Princes (saith Comines); the one are so cautelous and suspicious, as they are scarce to be endured: for they are almost come to that pass, as they think themselves ever deluded and circumvented. Such was Dionysius the tyrant of Syracuse, who grew so suspicious as he would not trust any Barber to shave him, causing his own daughters to learn to shave. Others there be, who are so far from harbouring suspicion, Sext. Aurel. in Constant. These Timists have resemblance to those applauding Parasites, by whom A●tiochus was at one time saluted both 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 and 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, a glorious Prince, and a furious Tyrant. as being of a dull and lumpish wit, they scarce understand what is commodious for them, and what not. Such was Domitian, who cared more for catching of flies, then retaining of friends: being so far from preventing danger, as he never foresaw it till he felt it. In these there is small constancy of mind; for as they easily discontinue friendship, they as easily decline from hatred and embrace friendship. Constantine the great, being a professed foe to all these Timists, or temporising Sycophants, was wont to call them Gnats and Moths that pester a Prince's Palace: So aspiring be their aims, so base their means; Who like base Beetles as they have begun, In every Cowsheard nestle near the Sun. Whence, as it may be probably gathered, was that sentence derived, Amici Curiae, Parasiti Curiae; fawning rather then friending, tendering only love where they hope to receive gain. Th●se as they have janus' front, for they carry two faces under one hood: so have they S●m●ns heart professing love, but practising hate: of which sort the everliving Homer thus concludeth: 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, . 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉. There's nought on earth I more detest, Then sugared breath in Serpent's breast. Whence it was that the great spirited Byron, who showed more passion than resolution at his death, howsoever during all his time none was ever held for a more brave or noble Soldier; perceiving his trust (as he collected) betrayed by La Fin, with whom he had conspired, and by whom his practice was disclosed, he confessed that La Fin had bewitched him, exhorting his host to be wary of him, le●● he should delude and circumvent him with his impostures. For certainly, as more expressly appeared, not only at the time of his execution, but in all the passages of his practice, as he had reposed great trust in La Fin, in the whole management of that business; so having seen his trust weakened, and those many protestations of amity infringed, (though in practices of that nature there can be no true league of friendship) it moved him no less to impatience, than the discovery of his teason. But these fawning friends or Timists which we have now in quest, as they are only for the present time, so will they undertake many times the most enormous and indirect course, to raise their hopes, that can be devised. When the rash aspiring Catiline had promised to divulge those new tables, wherein were contained the Proscription of the rich, Magistracies, Priesthoods, rapines, and all other insolences, which either the shock of war, or will of the Conqueror gives way to: he had followers enough upon the instant to second him in his hateful courses; being such as either his youth had made him acquainted with, or his dissolute course had consorted with: which unhappy followers made him, doubtless, more violent in his attempts, and less considerate in his directions. How needful then is it, to prevent the occasion of so main an inconvenience? How expedient is it to avoid the frequent or society of such as will not stick to be assistants in mischief? How consequent a thing is it to wean one's self not only from their familiarity and inward acquaintance, but even from so much as conversing with them or writing to them. Themistocles was suspected to be known to Pausanias' treason, although most clear of himself, because he wrote unto him. For as the nature of man is originally depraved, so by consorting with vicious men the arm of sin becomes strengthened. The Fuller (as it is in the fable) would by no means suffer the Collier to dwell with him under one roof, lest he should soil what he had rinsed. Which Fable hath a moral relation to the course of our life, and the nature of such as we usually comfort with: for there is a traffic or commerce as well of manners as persons; of virtues and vi●es, as other commodities. 〈◊〉 The Babylonian had been naturally said to be arrogant, the Theban passionate, the jew envious, the Tyrian covetous, the 〈◊〉 rioter, the Egyptian a sorcerer: neither did these nations keep these vices to themselves, for they induced others likewise, to whom they had recourse and commerce, to be affected to the like: for the very Egyptians had so bewitched Caesar himself with their illusions, as he gave great attention to them; Peccatum semper praegnans, aliudex alio gignit. Vitia morbi sunt animi. Sen. Vitia ad vicinos serpunt et contactu nocent. Ib. as Alexander was delighted with the Brachmanes. For vice is such an over-growing or wild spreading weed, as there is no soil wherein it likes not, no kind of nature (of what temper soever) it invades not, and invading surpriseth not. To the body diseases are infectious, to the mind are vices no less obnoxious: for vices are the diseases of the Mind, as infirmities breed distempers and diseases to the Body. So as whether we observe the state of Church or Commonweal, we shall find vices to be of a nature no less spreading then diseases; neither the state or Symptom of the mind less endangered by the infusion of the one, than the body by the infection of the other. For as the state Politic is much weakened by the haunt of these vices, Marcionist. so is that mourning Dove the Church, many times afflicted to see herself torn with Schisms and divisions: whereas * Faciunt favos & Vespae, faciunt Ecclesias & Marcionistae. Tertul. l. 4. cont. Wasps make honeycombs, so Marcionists make Churches. How needful then is it to divide ourselves from the consorts of vice, without entertaining the least occasion that might induce us to give consent to her followers? Augustus wore ever about him, for preservative against thunder, a Seals skin, which Pliny writes checketh lightning; as Tiberius wore always about his neck a Wreath of Laurel. But let us carry about us that Moli, or herb of grace, whose precious juice may repel the spells of so enchanting a Siren. For as the Unicorn's horn being dipped in water, clears and purifies it, so shall this sovereign receipt cure all those maladies, which originally proceed from the poison of vice. The mind so long as it is evil affected, is miserably infected. For so many evils, Quae malè afficitur, miserè inficitur. Quot vitiae, tot Daemonia: Tota Daemonia, quot crimina. Emisenus. Si innocentes existimari volumus, non solum nos abstinentes, verum etiam nostros comites praestare debemus. Cic. Fro incerta spe, certa praentia. Sallust. so many Devils, first tempting and tainting the soul with sin, then tearing and tormenting her with the bitter sense of her guilt. Saint Basil saith, that passions rise up in a drunken man, like a swarm of Bees buzzing on every side; whatsoever that holy Father saith of one vice, may be generally spoken of all: so as we may truly conclude with that Princely Prophet; They come about us like Bees: though they have honey in their thighs, they have stings in their tails, wounding our poor souls even unto death. Requisite therefore is it to avoid the society of such whose lives are either touched or tainted with any especial Crime: these are dangerous Patterns to imitate, yea, dangerous to consort with; for, as the Stork being taken in the company of the Cranes, was to undergo like punishment with them, although she had scarce ever consented to feed with them; so be sure, if we accompany them, we shall have a share of their shame, though not in their sin. Avoid the acquaintance of these Heirs of shame, whose affected liberty hath brought them to become slaves to all sensuality, and sure ere long to inherit misery. Give no ear to the Sycophant, whose sugared tongue and subtle train are ever plotting your ruin; hate the embraces of all insinuating Sharks, whose smoothness will work on your weakness, and follow the Poet's advice; Gratia quae cocat sicti malè sarta sodalis, Est velut in Siculo Scylla cavenda mar●. Pub Faust. Andr. Avoid such friends as feign and fawn on thee; Like Scylla's rock within Sicilian Sea. So dangerous are these Sirenian friends, that, like the Sicilian shelves, they menace shipwreck to the inconsiderate sailer. For these, as they profess love, and labour to purchase friends; so their practices are but how to deceive and entrap those to whom they profess love. Whence it is that Solomon saith, A man that flattereth his Neighbour, spreadeth a net for his steps. That is, he that giveth ear to the Flatterer, is in danger, as the bird is before the Fowler. He whistleth merrily, spreadeth his Nets cunningly, and hunteth after his prey greedily. Prov. 29.5. And let this suffice to be spoken for the Timist, who professeth observance to his friend only for his own end. Now, The Timonist, or Time-detracter discovered and discarded. Gentlemen, as I would not have you to entertain time with fawns, so neither with frowns. The former, as they were too light, so the latter are too heavy: The one too supple, the other too surly. For these Timonists (for we have done with our Timists) as Cicero said of Galba's leaden and lumpish body, His wit had an ill lodging, are of too sullen and earthly a constitution. It is never fair weather with them, for they are ever louring, bearing a Calendar of ill weather in their brow. These for the most part are Malcontents and affect nothing less than what is generally pleasing: appearing in the world naturalised Demophons'; Arist. Hist. anim. Nosque ubi primus equis oriens afflavit anhelis, illie sera rubens accendit lumina vesper. Tu voluptatem complecteris, nos compescimus: Tu omnia voluptatis causâ facis, nos nihil. Sen. de malis accidentibus bonis. Lib. 1. whose humour was to sweat still in the shadow, and shake in the sun. So as, howsoever they seem seated in another Clime, for disposition they are like the Antipodes unto us, opposing themselves directly against us in all our courses. They are of Democritus mind, who said, that the truth of things lay hid in certain deep mines or caves; and what are these but their own brains? For they imagine, there can be no truth, but what they profess. They proclaim defiance to the world, saying, Thou miserable deluded world, thou embracest pleasure, we restrain it: Thou for pleasure dost all things, we nothing. Now who should not imagine these Stoics to be absolute men? Such as are rare to see on earth, in respect of their austerity of life, and singular command over their affections? such as are divided (as it were) from the thought of any earthly business, having their minds spheared in a higher Orb? Such as are so far from intermeddling in the world, as they dis-value him that intends himself to negotiate in the world? Such, as when they see a man given to pleasure, or some moderate Recreation, whereby he may be the better enabled for other employments, slight him as a Spender of time, and one unfit for the society of men? Such, as say unto Laughter, Thou art mad; and unto joy, What meanest thou? Such, as take up the words of that grave Censor in the Poet: Tak'st thou delight to raze those paths, Neu tibi pulthra placent caeci vestigia mundi, Fallere quae citiùs quam renovare selent? where worldlings walked have, Which seldom do refresh the Mind, but often do deceive? Yet behold, how many times these men's severity comes short of sincerity! They will lay heavy burdens on others shoulders, which they will be loath to touch with the tip of their finger. The Tasks which they impose on others are insupportable, the pressures they lay on themselves very easy and tolerable. Of this rank was Aglataidas, of whom that noble and faithful Historian Comines writeth, saying: While he served in the Camp he was of a most harsh austere condition, doing many things perversely, and desiring rather to be feared then loved. Such was this Timon, from whose name we entitle these frowning friends, who can hardly be true friends to any, being so opposite or repugnant to all, as they can scarcely hold concurrence with any. Plutarch. Neither was this Timon (as Plutarch reporteth of him) only harsh and uncivil towards men, but towards women also: so as going forth one day into his Orchard, and finding a woman hanging upon a wild figtree: O God (quoth he) that all trees brought forth such fruit! Unfit therefore was this Timon for the Acquaintance of man, who professed himself so mortal and irreconciliable an enemy to the sociablest and entirest Acquaintance of man. So as, these Timonists, are to be cashiered for two reasons; first, for their own harsh and rough condition; secondly, for the unjust grounds of their opinion, which dissents so far from society, as it disallows of Marriage, the ordinary means appointed to preserve society. So as, leaving them and their opinion, as already evinced, we will descend to make choice of your nearest Acquaintance, (I mean) the choice of your wife; the first day of which solemnity promiseth either a succeeding jubilee, or a continued Scene of sorrow, where nought is sung but doleful Lachrymae. What directions are to be observed in the choice of a wife. It was pleasantly spoken of him who said; Wives are young men's Mistresses; Companions for middle age; and oldmen's Nurses. The first sort, take as much content in wearing their Mistress favour, as winning it; the second sort, in winning rather then wearing it; the third neither in wearing nor winning it, but like children, to be cherished and cockered by it. The second sort are we only to speak of, where wives are to be made companions, Gen. 2.23. and such entire ones, as they are bone of your bone, and flesh of your flesh. In the choice whereof, we will propose such necessary cautions, as shall be no less useful to yourselves, if rightly observed, than motives of comfort, if duly and exactly considered. He was reputed one of the wise men, that made answer to the question; When a man should marry? A young man not yet, an elder man not at all. Of which opinion was Arminius that Ruler of Carthage, The harsh and heremitical conceit of the Carthaginian Arminius, touching Marriage. whose harsh conceit of marriage proceeding either from personal disability, or some experience of woman's levity, deserves small approbation. For had it been Arminius fortune to have matched with Arminia, he would doubtless, rather have fallen into admiration of so sacred a rite, then into distaste of it. For this Noble Lady being bidden to King Cyrus' wedding, went thither with her husband: at night when they were returned home, her husband asked of her, how she liked the Bridegroom, whether she thought him to be a fair and beautiful Prince or no? Truth (saith she) I know not: for all the while I was forth, I cast mine eyes upon none other, but upon thyself. Or had Calanus prevented Hi●●o of his choice, he would have fallen from his Stoical dream to a Nuptial song; for one of Hiero●s enemies reproaching him with a stinking breath, he went home and questioned his wife why she told him not thereof; but what answer gave this continent Lady? Surely (said she) I thought all men had the same savour. Or had Claudian enjoyed so inimitable a consort, as the no less beauteous than virtuous Clara; whose constant affection to her decrepit and diseased Valdaure, in showing most love when a loathsome bed might have ministered most dista●●e hath recommended her living memory to the succeeding Annals of posterity. O● had Timon attained the happiness to join hands with Theogena, wife to Agathocles, he had not inveighed so much against the state of Marriage; for this renowned Lady showed admirable constancy in her husband's greatest misery, Se non prosperae tantùm, sed oranis fortunae inisse societatem. showing herself most his own, when he was relinquished and forsaken of his own; saying, That she was not given him to be a sharer only in his prosperity, but in what fortune so●ver should befall him. Or had Zenocrates enjoyed Zenobia, he would no less have admired his fortune, then beshrewed himself for depriving himself so long of so sweet a Companion. For this princely Lady, after the death of Odonatus (though a Barbarian Queen yet) by her reading of both Roman and Greek Histories, so managed the state after the decease of her husband, as she retained those fierce and intractable people in her obedience; - vix ulla perennior urna est, Vel tibi grata magis proprio quam corpore busium Condere.— una requiescit in urna. O vid. Met. l. 4. being a woman no less absolute for learning, then discreet governing: for she abridged the Alexandrian, and all the Oriental Histories, (a task of no less difficulty than utility) whereby she attained the highest pitch of wisdom and authority. Or had Aristippus been so happy as linked himself with Artemisia, he would have preferred so kind and constant a yoke-fellow before all exterior contemplations: for this chaste and choice Lady after the death of her beloved Mansolus, thought it not sufficient to erect a glorious monument in his memory, but to enshrine him in her own body, by drinking his ashes, and interring him in herself. Many such eminent women may we read of in Histories both divine and humane, whose virtues have equalled, if not surpassed most men. So as, howsoever it was the Milesian Thales his saying, that he had cause to give Fortune thanks for three things especially; first, for that he was a man, and not a beast: secondly, that he was a man, and not a woman: thirdly, that he was a Greek borne, and not a Barbarian: Women there be whose more noble endowments merit due admiration, because as in their sex weaker and inferior, so in the gifts of the mind richer and superior. But now to our Choice: for it is to be received as already granted, being by the authority of an Apostle confirmed, Heb. 13.4. Arist. lib. 1. Polit. cap. 1. Eum eligas magistrum, quem magis admireris cum videas, quam cum audias. Seneca. Egnatius quod condidos habet dentes renidet usque quaque, seu ad rei ventum est subsellium. Vid. Catul. in lib. Eleg. that Marriage is honourable among all: and every honourable thing is more eligible, then that which is not honourable: So as he that shuneth Marriage, and avoideth society, is to be esteemed a foe to humanity, or more than a man; as he whom Homer reprehendeth, saying: That he was tribe-lesse, lawless, and house-lesse. I could wish every young Gentleman to make that Choice of his Mistress, which Seneca would have one observe in the choice of a Master; Choose him for thy Master (saith he) whom thou mayest more admire, seeing him, then hearing him: Neither altogether, as Egnatius in Catullus is brought out showing the whiteness of his teeth: for all outward perfections, are but as fuel to feed desire, without that inward fair, which only maketh woman worthy loving. For what is a beautiful complexion, being an exterior good; or that which Euryclea his nurse praised, when she washed the feet of Ulysses, namely, gentle speech, and tender flesh, wanting those inward graces, which truly adorn and beautify women? So as it is much better to follow his direction in the choice of a wife, who said, that they were to be chosen a Epictet, Enchirid. Modestiâ non formâ; which Modesty cannot admit of this age's vanity, where there is nothing less affected than what is comely. For, b Cypr. de disciplina & habitu virg. these garish fashions agree well with none but prostitutes and shameless women. c Petr. Mart. 2 Reg. 9.30. Neither can that face be a good one, which stands in need of these helps. For d Cyprian. what madness is it to change the form of nature, and seek beauty from a Picture? e Ambr. Hexam. lib. 6. cap. 8. Which Picture is vices posture, and the age's imposture. f Hieron. Neither do these affected trumperies, nor exquisite vanities become a Christian. g junius. For what is more vain, then dying of the hair, painting of the face, laying out of breasts? h Aug. de Christ. fide. Do not say that these can have shamefast minds, who have such wand'ring and immodest eyes. i Ambros. l. 1. de offic. cap. 18. For the habit of the mind is to be discerned by the carriage: so as even in motion, gesture, and pace, is modesty to be observed. How miserable then is the state of these fantastic Idols, who can endure no fashion that is comely, because it would not be observed? How base is her shape, which must borrow complexion from the shop? k Hier. ad Furiam de vid. Ser. Tom. 1. How can she weep for her sins (saith S. Hierome) when her tears will make furrows in her face? With what confidence doth she lift up her countenance to heaven which her Maker acknowledges not? l Tertul. de hab. Mul. Cap. 7. I would, I poor wretch, (saith Tertullian) might see in that day of Christian exaltation, whether with Ceruse, and Vermilion, and Saffron, and those tires and toys upon your head, you are to rise again! which if they do, they shall certainly witness against them, m Scult. to receive the reward of their painting in a Lake of tormenting. n Cyprian. in lib. de hab. virg. For these are they who lay hands upon God, correcting with a hand of contempt the workmanship of God. These never carry a box of ointment to bestow on the members of Christ, but a o Vict. ad Salmonem. box of complexion they have in readiness to bestow on a cheek. Which sort of Wantoness (for how should I otherwise term them) are well displayed by one in their colours after this manner; p Tho. Hudson. She surely keeps her fault of Sex and Nation, And best alloweth still the last Translation: Much good time lost, she rests her faces debtor, She as made it worse, striving to make it better. This introduced Ulcer, which is now esteemed no sore, because custom hath taken away the sense of a sore; how much it was abhorred formerly, may appear by that command or constitution purposely exhibited to restrain it. q Clemens alexconst. Apost. lib. 1. cap. 9 Do not paint thy face which God hath made. But if our women would but consider how hateful these abuses are in the sight of the Almighty, yea, how much they were loathed even of all honest women in former ages, they would distaste them, sure I am, far more than they affect them. For if we will credit Saint r Hier. de exitu Leae. Hierome; writing to Marcelia, who saith; That those women are matters of scandal to Christian eyes, which painted their faces and their eyes with Vermilion, and such like adulterate complexions. Yea he writes, That Maximilla Montanus his Prophetess, a woman-divell, by command from him whom she served, did use to paint. So Festus Pompeius saith, That common and base Whores, called Schoenicolae, used daubing of themselves, though with the vilest stuff. So did the Druids amongst the Romans, expressly shadowed by the Poet, s Vict. ad Salmonem. Preserve what Nature gave you, naughts more base, Than Belgian colour on a Roman face. t Caesar. in comment. So did our ancient Britons, but not to make their faces more amiable, but to appear more terrible to the enemy. Thus much, gentlemans, I thought good to write, before you make your choice, that you may see who are worth loving before you make your choice. u Nazian. contra mulieres immodicè comptas: There is one flower to be loved of women, a good red, which is shame fastness? Here make your choice, and you shall find far more content in a native then artificial blush. For as Diogenes said to one that had anointed his hair; x Laert. lib. 6. Optimisunt odores qui odorant mores; aliter non sunt flores sed faetores. Take heed that thy smelling head bring thee not an ill-smelling life; so beware lest these perfumed Ones become not polluted Ones. For whosoever shall use them, I cannot choose but suspect them: howsoever I have read of some that maintained the use of painting, grounded upon these ensuing respects: y Lessius de justitia & jure. lib 4. cap. 4. fol. 801. Such a cause there may be (saith one) that Women may use painting, and without sin: As for example, if it be done of purpose to cover any blemish or deformity. Likewise, if the Husband command that his Wife should do it, to the end that among other Women she might appear more amiable: Which opinion seems likewise confirmed by another, who affirms. z Pet. Alagora in Compendio Manual. Navar. c. 23. Num. 19 fol. 257. That to receive more beauty by attire or painting, though it be a counterfeit work, yet it is no mortal sin. So as Platina writeth, that Paulus Secundus, Bishop of Rome, used to paint himself: Whom if Diogenes had seen, he would doubtless have said to him, as he once said to a youth too curiously and effeminately dressed: If thou goest to men, all this is but in vain; if unto women, it is wicked. Wicked surely, it cannot choose, being (as it were) a reproving or reforming of the Almighty, whose workmanship is so absolute, as it admits of no correction. Take heed therefore that you be not taken with one of these Idols, as Pygmalion was with his Image; but so direct your affections, as she may be worthy your embrace, whom you shall choose. Which that you may the better effect, Laert. in vita Cleeb. follow the Sages advice in your choice: Match with your equal, if not in fortunes, for so both may prove beggars, at least in descent: so will she the better content herself with your estate, and conform her the better to your means. For I have seldom seen any difference greater, arising from Marriage, than imparity of birth or descent, where the wife will not stick to twit her husband with her Parentage, and brave him with repetition of her descent. Likewise, as I would not have you to entertain so main a business without mature advice, so I would not have you wholly rely upon a friend's counsel: but as you are to have the greatest Oar in the Boat, so to make yourself your own carver: for he that is enforced to his Choice, makes a dangerous bargain. Wherefore ground your Choice on Love, so shall you not choose but like; making this your conclusion; To her in Hymen's bands I'll ne'er be tide, Whom Love hath not espoused and made my Bride. For what miseries have ensued on enforced Marriages, there is no Age but may record: where rites enforced, made the hands no sooner joined then their minds divorced, bidding adieu to Content, even at that instant when those unhappy rites were solemnised. The next Observance in making your Choice, is matter of Portion; a business not altogether to be neglected; for if she be a good wife, a good Portion makes her no worse: and if an ill one, she had need of a Portion to make her better. For he hath a hard bargain that hath neither Portion in a Wife, nor out of a Wife. We would account him a weak and simple man, that would enter bond without either consideration, or security to keep him harmless. You are sure to be bound, be not so far from consideration, as have nothing to show for yourself for your own security. I can commend his wit who having made choice of a Proportion, moving enough to gain affection, was not content so, but he must know further touching her Portion; that as her Proportion procured love, so her Portion might enable him how to live: like a quick Epigrammatist he proceedeth thus; Portion and Proportion. I got a Portion and Proportion too, One got, the other I desired to know; Which known, though at this season I was free, A thousand pound cost me my liberty. O fool (quoth my Alexis) to be bound, To thraldom's yoke, to gain a thousand pound! Content thee friend (said I) for wotest thou what, I have been bound for a less sum than that, Yet ne'er was Bankrupt; but if so I doubt To lose by th' bargain, I will bank her out. It is a true saying, Something hath some savour; whereas he that neither gets good wife nor good portion, will make but a hard saver. For he that wants a wife to cherish him, had need of some money to cheer him. Having now made choice of your wife, being so well disposed (as it is to be intended,) she should not be much restrained; for she hath already resolved to be no gadder, but, in resemblance of the Snail, a good housekeeper. The Egyptians, by an especial decree (as Plutarch reports) enjoined their Women to wear no shoes, because they should abide at home. The Grecians accustomed to burn, before the door of the new married, the axletree of that coach wherein she was brought to her husband's house, letting her to understand, that she was ever after to dwell there. Which custom she approveth, having made her family her common weal, where she addresseth herself to govern without intermeddling in others affairs. Neither is she only to be freed from restraint of liberty in going abroad (for her occasions call her, or else she could be contented to be housed for ever:) but in her desire of apparel, or any thing else that she affecteth. For whersoever Christ is, there is a Vbi deu● est, ibi pudicitia, Hieron. ad ●uriam de vid. Serm Tom. 1. shamefastness; like as wheresoever Antichrist is, there is b Velamen istud Antichristi. ibid. shamelessness. And this chosen vessel well understands that all garish and gorgeous attire, is the attire of sin, which she will not so much as partake with, having learned how that Modesty is the only ornament which beseems a Matron. Wherefore, you should much wrong your choice to restrain her from the use of any pleasure which she affecteth, for so well disposed is she, as she affecteth no pleasure than to converse with Virtue, which she holdeth at a higher rate than to be purchased with a mass of treasure. But admit it were your fortune to bestow yourself on one, whose licentious affection might second Faustina's, whose pride Sempronia's, and whose shrewd tongue Zantippe's: you must make a virtue of a necessity, and so learn to inure you to patience, as you may be able by continual exercise to encounter and subdue the violentest passions. How wisely did Aurelius cover his Faustina's shame, labouring to reclaim by mildness, when he could not prevail by bitterness? How discreetly was Sempronias proud humour kerbed and with as little impatience as might be reproved? How resolutely did Socrates forbear his wife Xanthippe, though a froward woman, because he thought he might better and with more patience converse with others? For Marriage is no such merchandise, as to promise return with advantage to all factors. There is a ceremonial custom used by the Duke of Venice upon the Ascension day, to go in a vessel called the Bucentor, made Galley-wise, with other Nobles a mile or two into the Sea: casting a Ring into it, (by which ceremony they wed the Sea) that it may never leave the City upon dry land. Certainly, whosoever he be that marrieth a wife, empledging his faith unto her by a Ring, must not think that he hath brought his ship to a perpetual harbour, but rather that he is now putting off from Land, and entering the main Ocean, where he is to encounter with many violent blasts, contrary winds, surging waves, ebbs and flows, which will not end till his journey end. It were wisdom therefore to bear what we may not avoid: considering, that as the Marriage state is subject to many occurrences, so it is endowed with sundry excellent privileges, Cael. Rhod. lib. 12 cap. 8. Privileges of Marriage. as the gravity of the state requireth: As in Rome, the Lex julia gave precedency to him who had most children; and in Florence at this day, he that is father of five children, straightway upon the birth of the fifth, is exempted from all Imposts, Subsidies, and Loans. Also here in England, a married man (out of a tender respect to h●s posterity) is not so soon pressed into the wars as single men or Bachelors. Wherefore as the state is more honoured, so is more sobriety and government in it required; bearing yourselves patiently without bitterness, and forbearing your wives for their sex's weakness. Having thus far discoursed of Acquaintance, both at bed and board; it were not amiss, Plin. 35. ●. 10. if we set down some especial direction, which might better instruct you in the choice of them; which, as Protogenes seeing but a little line drawn in a Table, knew straightways it was Apelles doing, whom he had never seen; shall upon first sight resolve you, that those friends, or Acquaintance to which these instructions shall direct you, are worthy loving and knowing. There is no one note more infallible of true friendship, then to express a faithfulness in misery: which faithfulness is ever found in these noble and generous Dispositions, Laeert. in vit. chill. who can say with Chilo, That in all their life-time they were never guilty of Ingratitude. So as Nobility and Affability hold for most part concurrency: whence the Poet; A disposition towardly and good, Implies a generous and a Noble blood. These keep continual records of courtesies received; with a Catalogue of such friends as have at their hands worthily deserved. It is reported of Hen. the 5. that he never promised any thing, but he registered and set it down with his own hand. Such noble sparks are these, who, as they receive acceptably, so they render back bountifully, making no other benefit of Amity, then as of a mutual or reciprocal courtesy. Neither is it to be wondered at, Optimin optimmis claruere gratiis: Pessimi pessimis caluere vitiis. that I should here make choice of Descent, or Birth, as an especial or infallible note of true and faithful Amity: for there is a natural strain in all creatures, which they take from the parents that bred them. Strong men from Strong their native strength do gather, Both Bull and Horse take spirit from their father. It is a common saying amongst us, Forts creantur fortibus et bonis. Est in juvencis, est in equis patrum Virtus— Horat. 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉. Infelicem dicebat Bias qui ferre nequiret infelicit atem. Laert. Pomp. Mela. lib. 1. That a Gentleman will do like a Gentleman; he scorns to do unlike himself, for his word is his gage, and his promise such a tie as his reputation will not suffer him to dispense with. Men of this rank, as they are ready to bear an equal share in their friend's misery, so are they resolved with a spirit undaunted, (if such be their chance) in their own persons to sustain misery; for they esteem no man so unhappy, as he that cannot bear unhappiness. In Sicilia there is a fountain called Fons Solis, out of which at midday, when the Sun is nearest, floweth cold water; at midnight when the Sun is farthest off, floweth hot water. Such fountains are these firm friends, who, when the Sun shineth hottest upon you, with the rays of prosperity, will yield you cold water, no great comfort or succour, because you need it not: but when the Sun is farthest off, and the darkest clouds which fortune can contract, sit heaviest on you, than they send forth hot water; they weep with you, there is hot water; they suffer with you, there is hot water; they cheer you drooping, comfort you sorrowing, support you languishing; Quorsum alter dives, alter pauper? theophra. Nil habet infelix paupertas durius in se, quam quod ridiculos homines facit— juven. Sat. 3. Quem fugiam scio, quem sequàr nescio. Homer. Iliad. 5 This was never more exemplarily then in that place, and at this time presently confirmed; where faction guilded over with pretences of religion, labours to bring an united State to division. Nihil turpius dubio & incerto, pedem modo referente, modò producente. Sen. Ep. 96. and in your extremest fortunes are ever sharing. These cry with Theophrastus, What care we if this friend be rich, that friend poor, we are the same to either? Make choice therefore of these well bred Ones, for though some degenerate, most of them hold. Whereas, chose, these who are of a base dunghill descent, it is seldom seen but they have some base and unworthy condition; being generally all for the time, but little for trust; or as Tops which always run round, and never go forward, unless they be whipped. Such a Neuter among the Romans was Tully, who could not resolve, whether he should take Caesar's part or Pompey's part. Among the Grecians was Tydides', who could not determine whether he should join himself with Achilles or Hector. 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉. Among the Persians was Nabarzanes, who seeing his Master's fortunes decline, laboured to join himself to him whose fortunes, were in rising. Such were Tiberius' friends, who shrunk from him, hearing with patience Tiberium in Tiberim. And such were our Northern Borderers, who have been always uncertain friends in extremities, and assured enemies upon advantage. Of which it may be said, as was spoken of the Philosopher's cloak, Pallium video, Philosophum non video: I see the cover of a friend, but no friend. For as nothing is more hateful than a doubtful and uncertain man, who now draweth his foot back, and now putteth it forward; so there is nothing more distasteful to any man, than these fair protesting friends, whose hollow and undermining hearts make a show of fair weather abroad, when there is a tempest at home; coming towards you with their feet, but going from you with their hearts. In brief, they are Danaus' tubs, or running sieves that can hold no water. leave them therefore to themselves, if you desire in safety to enjoy yourselves. Now, to the end I may acquaint you likewise with the rest of such Motives to Love as are powerfully working in the affection of the mind; as we have touched the first Motive or inducement to Love, to wit, Parentage or descent, which cannot so far degenerate from itself, but it must of necessity show itself: Sundry motives to love recounted: Parentage. Benovelence. Fame. so it attracts other motives of love unto it, as Benevolence in rewarding: excellency or admiration proceeding from the fame of such redoubted Hero's, as have their names charactered and engraven in leaves of brass, to preserve their memory: As Solomon for his Wisdom, whom, no doubt, Nicaula Queen of Saba had a desire to see and be known to, through report of his wisdom; so as her long journey seemed short, having understood that to be true with her own ear, which she had only heard of before by report. How much likewise was David affected for his Valour, in discomfiting the uncircumcised Philistin? So was Alexander, whose report brought the Amazon Thalestris from her own Country, of purpose to be known to so invincible a spirit. So Hercules, Achilles, Dardanus, Diomedes, Scipio, Hannibal, Constantine, etc. whose exploits purchased them Love to such as were never acquainted with their persons. Pardoning of injuries. Pardoning likewise of injuries, is an excellent motive of Love. When Chyles brother was angry, that himself was not made Ephorus as well as he: O (quoth he) I know how to suffer injuries, so dost not thou! Though Diogenes the Cynic answered uncivilly to Alexander, when he came to his poor Mansion in Synope, his Philosopher's Barrel, yet he replied unto his Satirical speech with no indignation, but said to such of his attendants, as derided the boarish and exotic speech of Diogenes, If I were not Alexander, I would wish to be Diogenes. The like instance may be confirmed by holy Writ: Num. 12.10, 13. where Miriam, for murmuring against Moses, was stricken with a loathsome Leprosy: he could not suffer this condign punishment to be inflicted on her, but demanded of God that he would cure her. Concurrency in hatred. Another motive to Love, is Hatred, where an ill occasion procureth among enemies a reconciliation. Herod and Pilate enemies before, were reconciled in combining their powers, Compassion in afflictions. 1 King. 23.2, 2 Sam. 15.37. together against Christ. Mastiffs, if set together, will fight till death, but in the presence of a Bull will join together. Sometimes mutual affliction procureth mutual affection. Such resorted to David, as were persecuted by Saul, being such as were amaro animo. Where Saul's enmity brought David to a trial of Hushai's faithful amity; where he found the words of Ecclesiasticus to be true, Eccles. 6.14. Vatus in infamitate persicitur. A faithful friend is a strong defence; and he that findeth such a one, findeth a treasure. For when we are in the greatest straits, such an one showeth the most strength: So as the Apostles words may be verified, strength is made perfect in weakness; Where one afflicted friend supporteth another, 2 Cor. 12: 7. by joining their strenghts together. Delivery from danger. judith. 3.10. Esther. 8. ●1. Another motive there is, proceeding from some especial delivery from danger: for who will not esteem him for a friend, who will expose himself to danger, to deliver his friend? judith entered Bethulia with Holofernes head, and by that means preserved her Country from ruin and desolation. Esther procured the death of Haman, repealed those severe and cruel laws enacted, proclaimed, and even ready to be executed by Hamans' suggestions, Exod. 15.1. joshua 24.31 judg. 16.2. Maccab. 13.5. Vid. Eccle. à cap. 44 ad 51. in the kingdom of the Medes and Persians; whereby she purchased eternal honour, love and memory in her Country. The same love gained Moses for delivering the Israelites from the thraldom of Egypt. The like may be said of josua, Samson, Macchabeus, and many others frequent in holy Writ. The Romans so highly honoured and affected such as protected their Country, and defended her Liberty, as they bestowed no less style on them then Patres Patriae. Another motive there is, drawing one Enemy to love another, induced thereto in respect of Compassion, Expression of virtue. 1 King. 24.26. or some other princely virtue which he seeth in him. When Saul understood that David might have taken away his life, and would not, Levavit vocem & flevit: his threats were changed into tears, and his passion into a tear-swollen admiration, to see his foe so full of compassion. Acknowledgement of injuries. A position of Aristot. Rh●t. 2. cap 4. Vt tenuissima scintilla quae in Oceanum demittitur. Chrysost. in hom. ad Pop. Suffering of injuries. Bounty, or Munificence. 2 Cor. 9.7. Eccles. 6.8.13. Eccles. 12.8.9. Ibid c. 13.9.8. Obad. 7. We are induced likewise to love them that tell and confess sincerely their offences; for an ingenuous acknowledgement of what is done, moves us to commiserate his case by whom it is done; yea quencheth all hate, as if a small spark were drenched in the Sea. Likewise in the toleration of wrongs, we are enforced to love him who suffereth them, and having power to revenge, will not out of the nobleness of his spirit, do what he may. To conclude, Bounty is a motive to Love; for giving gifts gathereth friends: which Bounty is most worthy acceptance, when done with cheerfulness: Hilarem datorem diligit Deus. Thus have we traced over such Motives as generally induce or procure Love, Friendship, or Acquaintance; wherein observe the lesson of the Son of Sirach: Depart from thine enemies, and beware of thy friends: for some man is a friend for his own occasion, and will not abide in the day of thy trouble. Now if you would understand, how a man may know a friend, you shall find him described, and by certain infallible marks discovered in the twelfth Chapter of the same book. But always, Beware (saith he) of deceitful friends, lest feeling the bitterness of them, you find the saying of the Prophet true: All the men of thy confederacy, have driven thee to the borders: the men that were at peace with thee, have deceived thee, and prevailed against thee: they that cat thy bread, have laid a wound under thee: there is none understanding in him. Make choice then of him for your Acquaintance, whom you may worthily esteem of as a second-selfe: so may you communicate your counsels freely, acquaint him with your griefs friendly, and share in comforts and afflictions fully. Thus much for the choice of Acquaintance; Arist. Eth. l. 4. wherein I have the rather enlarged my discourse, because I know that as there is nothing more useful to direction or instruction, then where good ones are elected; so there is nothing more hurtful in the main matter of discipline or conversation, then where ill ones are affected and frequented. Of Constancy in the choice of Acquaintance. Eccles. 6, 7. MAny and singular were the commendations attributed to Augustus, amongst which none more absolute than this: As none was more slow in entertaining, so none more firm or constant in retaining: which agrees well with that of the Son of Sirach: If thou gettest a friend prove him first, and be not hasty to credit him. But having found him, we are to value him above great treasures: the reason is annexed: A faithful friend is a strong defence, 14. and he that findeth such a one, findeth a treasure. This adviseth every one to be no less wary in his choice, then constant in the approvement of his choice; so as it rests now, that we presie this point by Reasons and Authorities, illustrating by the one, and confirming by the other, how consequent a thing it is to show ourselves constant in the choice of our Acquaintance. There is no one thing more dangerous to the state of man, or more infallibly proving fatal, than lightness in entertaining many friends, and no less lightly cashiering those who are entertained. Which error I have observed to have borne principal sway in our new-advanced Heirs, Amârunt Solem ardentem, oderunt arguentem. whose only ambition it is to be seen numerously attended, fantastically attired, and in the height of their absurdities humoured. These are they who make choice of Acquaintance only by outward habit, or which is worse, by roisting or ruffian behaviour: with whom that false Armoury of yellow Bands, nitty Locks, and braving Mouchatoes, have ever had choice acceptance. And herein, observe the misery of these depraved ones, who having made choice of these mis-spenders of time, and abusers of good gifts, they will more constantly adhere to them, then with better affected Consorts. Oh that young Gentlemen would but take heed of falling unwarily upon these shelves, who make shipwreck of their fortunes (the remains of their father's providence;) yea not only of their outward state, which were well to be prevented, lest misery or baseness overtake them; but even of their good names, those precious odours which sweeten and relish the Pilgrimage of man! For what more hateful then to consort with these companions of death, whose honour consists merely in protests of Reputation, and whose only military garb is to toss a Pipe in stead of a Pike, and to fly to the Tinderbox to give charge to their smoky Ordnance, to blow up the shallow-laid foundation of that shaken fortress of their decayed brain? these hot liver'd Salamanders are not for your company (Gentlemen) nor worthy your Acquaintance; for of all companions, those are the worthiest acceptance, who are so humble-minded and well affected, Vt abiis melicres f●ant, aut eos quibuscuns versantur, meliores faciant. Inter Vestales hoc celebr● juit, primò discunt quid agant, postea agunt quod discunt, tertiò alios do●ent guod discant, & agant. Non est strepitus oris, sed jubilus cerdis; non sonus labiorum sed morus gaudiorum; concordia voluntatum, non consonantia vocum: Parum enim prodest sola voce cantar● sine cordis intention. Bern. as they consort with others purposely to be bettered by them; or being knowing men, by their instructions to better them. That course which the ancient Vestals observed, such useful Companions as these have ever seconded: They first learned what to do; secondly, they did what they had learned; thirdly, they instructed others to do as they had learned. Such as these were good Companions to Pray with, to Play with, to Converse or Commerce with. First, they are good to Pray with; for such as these only were they who assembled together in one place, employing their time religiously in prayers, supplications, and giving of thanks, and honouring him, whom all Powers and Principalities do honour with divine Melody: which was expressed not so much with the noise of the mouth, as with the joyful note of the heart: nor with the sound of the lips, as with the soule-solacing motion of the spirit; nor with the consonance of the voice, as with the concordance of the will: For, as the precious stone Diacletes, though it have many rare and excellent sovereignties in it, yet it loseth them all, if it be put in a deadman's mouth: so Prayer, which is the only pearl and jewel of a Christian, though it have many rare and exquisite virtues in it, yet it loseth them every one, if it be put into a deadman's mouth, or into a man's heart either, that is dead in sin, and doth not knock with a pure hand. So many rare precedents have former times afforded, all most inimitable in this kind, as to make repetition of them, would crave an ample volume; we will therefore only touch some special ones, whose devotion hath deserved a reverence in us towards them, and an imitation in us after them. Nazianzin in his Epitaph for his sister Gorgonia, writeth, that she was so given to Prayer, that her knees seemed to cleave to the earth, and to grow to the very ground, by reason of incessancie or continuance in Prayer; so wholly was this Saint of God dedicated to devotion. Gregory in his Dialogues writeth, that his Aunt Trasilla being dead was found to have her elbows as hard as horn; which hardness she got by leaning to a desk, at which she used to pray; so continued was the devotion of a zealous professor. Eusebius in his History writeth, that james the brother of our Lord, had knees as hard as Camels knees, benumbed and bereft of all sense and feeling, by reason of continual kneeling in Prayer; so sweet was this Task, undertaken for God's honour, where practice made that an exercise or solace, which the sensual man maketh a toil or anguish. Hierome in the life of Paul the Eremite writeth, that he was found dead, kneeling upon his knees, holding up his hands, lifting up his eyes: * Etiam cadaver mortui officioso geslu precabatur. Quaerite quod quaeritis, sed non ubi quaeritis. August. so that the very dead corpse seemed yet to live, and by a kind of zealous and religious gesture to pray still unto God. So transported or rather entranced was the spirit of this lovely Dove, as even in death he expressed the practice of his life: These followed Augustine's rule in their form of Prayer: seek (saith he) what you seek, but seek not where you seek. Seek Christ, that's a good what. Seek what you seek; but seek him not in bed, that is an ill where. But seek not where you seek: Moses found Christ not in a soft bed, but in a bramble bush. For as we cannot go to heaven on beds of down, no more can these devotions pierce heaven which are made on beds of down. Albeit, every place is good, for as no place is freed from occasion of sin, so no place should be free from Prayer, which breaketh down the Partition wall of our sin. But certainly those downy Prayers taste too much of the flesh, Delicatus magister est, qui pleno ventre disputat de jejunio. Hieron. Qui satur est, pleno laudat jejunia ventre. to relish well of the spirit: for as he is a delicate Master, who when his belly is full, disputeth of fasting; so he is a sensual Prayer, who in his bed only, addresseth himself to devotion. Neither are these only good companions to pray with, but also to play with; I mean to recreate and refresh our minds with, when at any time pressed or surcharged either with cares of this world, or in our discontinuance from more worthy and glorious Meditations of the world to come; for as in the former we are usually plunged, so by the latter we are commonly enfeebled, at least wearied, if by some Recreations, to entertain and allay the tediousness of more weary hours, we be not refreshed and solaced. Eccles. 13.19. Quin. Cur. l. ● Amicitiae ut pares quaerunt ita et faciunt: ut cuique est aetas, it a quemque facetus adopta. Hor. l. 1. Epist. 6. Suaves omnes fiunt soles inter socios et sodales. Qua dementia est potius trabi quam sequi. Seneca. Now in our choice of Acquaintance, as like requireth like, so are we to sort ourselves to an equality both in degree and condition. When some of Alexander's companions demanded of him, if he would run a race with them; Willingly, (said he) if there were Kings to run withal. For this parity breeds affection, and an equality of minds in any recreation: while neither respect to an inferior rank begets contempt, nor an eye to superiority begetteth fear. Besides, as there is an equality of degree, so is there an equality of mind concurring with that degree. There is no pleasure affected by one, which is not entertained with free approbation by another: for in all their jestings, sport, and delightful meetings, they are provided of a disposition, equally tempered to give a jest, and take a jest: having ever in mind that common English Proverb, Play with me, but hurt me not; jest with me, but shame me not. For their sports as they are harmless without guile, so their conceits are pleasant without gall: There is neither saltness in the one, nor harshness in the other. Neither do these make sport or pastime a vocation, as if they were borne to nothing else then Play: for these delights of theirs, which are ever moderate, and therefore truly seasoned, they make use of, as Physicians of suger-plates, which they minister to their patients, to take away the taste of a more bitter potion▪ It is worth observing, to note the excellent use, which these men make of Recreation. They can use it with such temperance, as they can command the pleasures which they use, and not be commanded by it. Their only pleasure is to contemn pleasure, yea," even to disesteem it in their height of pleasure: neither, because pleasure delighteth, Nec quia delectat, placet; sed quia placet, delectat. ibid. Egregium apud vos virtutis officium voluptates persuanere: Super mens●m recognoscentes omnia gentium animalia: & quò magis implentur, e ò magis inexplebiles, Ibid. doth it please them; but because it pleaseth, it doth delight them. It is the excellentest office of some men's virtue to persuade the use of pleasure, recounting at their Table creatures of all sorts, with which by how much more they are filled, by so much more their appetites remain unsatisfied. Briefly, whereas their discretion hath subjected appetite to reason, in gaming they play without desire of gaining; in Recreations of the Body, their aim is to refresh and renew Nature, without any desire of mastery; in their solemn feasts, they feed without surfeiting; in their May-games, they are merry without exceeding; in their flashes or encounters of wit, they are pregnant, present, and pleasant without offending. Those are most fruitful and fertile in rendering fruit (saith the Philosopher) which partake most of cold and moist: which position intendeth the conceptive part; but my assertion reacheth further; for I conclude, such as these being equally tempered, to be most copious in the principle works or faculties of the understanding, being three; first to discourse, secondly to distinguish, third to choose. For the first whereof, Three faculties of the understanding. it resteth that we now proceed in proof, concluding, These not to be only the best Companions to pray or play with (as we have formerly proved;) but to converse or commerce with, as we shall hereafter make manifest. Megabizes esteemed Alexander as a Prince, whiles he stood in his School and said nothing; but when he began to talk of things which he knew not, he said unto him, That even his little children would laugh him to scorn. This speech of Megabizes proceeded (as may be imagined) from some words utrered, or reasons alleged by Alexander, which relished little of Philosophy, being a Study to which a Soldier is for most part a stranger. But these men, whom we now have in hand, and whom we have made choice of, as fit companions to converse and commerce with, are men of such singular discretion, as they will prefer silence before discovery of their ignorance. These observe that maxim; He that knoweth how to speak well, knoweth also when he must hold his peace. These know for what end or purpose the bars and gates of the lips and teeth (like a double ward) were ordained to limit or restrain the Tongue. These observe, how man hath two eyes to see with, two nostrils to breath with, two hands to labour with, two feet to walk with, but one Tongue to talk with; implying that one Tongue requires as much government as any two members of all the body. Neither only is their speech wisely silenced, but when delivered, discreetly seasoned: Seasoned with mildness and affability, without the least expression of roughness or austerity. These think an hour before they speak, and a day before they promise. In lib. disecrit. secretor. Where two meek men meet together, their conference (saith Bernard) is sweet and profitable; where one man is meek, it is profitable; where neither, it proves pernicious. Neither in mildness and affability only, but in the highest pitch of wisdom, is their discourse seated. Whence it was (as I have heretofore noted) that Aristotle debating of the convenience and propriety of discourse before Alexander; maintained, That none where to be admitted to speak, but either those that managed his wars, or his Philosophers which governed his house. Which wisdom of discourse hath been formerly so much affected, as Plutarch reporteth that Plato came forth of Asia into Cilicia, for no other cause but only to see his dear friend Photion the Philosopher, and to converse with him. This caused Nicaula, the Queen of Saba, to travel from her own Country to judea, to hear the wisdom of Solomon: yea, peruse those Athenian Nights in Gellius, how, and in what excellent manner, with what variety of discourse, propriety of conference, strength of arguments those Winter-nights were bestowed, and you shall find there fit companions for Scholars, Soldiers, and all Generous professors. Neither are they consorts only fit to converse with, but to commerce with also; for these are no bankrupt Merchants, or desperate Factors, who use to dispense with conscience and credit, rather than in a conscionable sort discharge their credit. So as, howsoever the Son of Sirach may seem to conclude, Ecclus 26.28, 29. There be two things, which me think to be hard and perilous; A Merchant cannot lightly keep him from wrong, and a Victualler is not without sin. So well and equally are the ships of these good Merchants ballasted, as rather than they will make shipwreck of a good conscience, or run their reputation upon the shelf of disgrace, they will suffer the worst of extremes. These are none of those, who make sale of deceitful commodities, to enrich their seldom thriving progeny with impostures. Talis substantia non est slabilis, aut ipsis inventoribus est peritura, aut à molis haeredibus est diss●panda. Chris. in Mat. These are none of those tri●●ing Mountebanks, who draw on customers with fair protests, and show strange experiments upon their sophisticated oils, to delude the ignorant. These are none of our inconsiderate Factors, who make exchange of English money with Indian trifles, enriching foreign Countries with our treasures, and fooling our own with their feathers. These are none of our Sea-sharkes, who under pretence of merchandise, exercise piracy; bearing the world in hand that they befriend us, when they practise all hostility against us. These are none of our dangerous Spies, who pretending they come to trade or commerce with us, arrive purposely to note what strength is amongst us. No, these are Factors of better temper and more honesty, hating deceit, though that might enrich them; scorning the Mountebanks trade, though that might draw customers to them; discarding all inconsiderate Factors, who give money for feathers, though in fooling others, they might gain by them; cashiering all Sea-sharkes, who by pyratical practices use to support them; excluding all dangerous Spies, who to discover others weakness, purposely embark them. In brief, would you have their character? They can discourse of novelties without affectation, impart their minds freely without dissimulation, valuing no loss so great, as the hazard of their reputation. These are those friends which deserve your choice and acceptance; These are they, who, as upon good grounds you have made choice of, so should you be constant in your choice. For you are not to be so light in the choice of your Acquaintance, as in the choice of your fashion; where every giddy head sorts himself to what is newest, not what is neatest; for so should you be ever choosing, and far from constancy in choosing. Rather having got a friend and proved him, first in matters of small weight, and afterwards in affairs of greater consequence; labour by all means to retain him, Ecclus. ●. 10. for you have found a treasure: Forsake not this old friend, for the new is not comparable unto him. You have got a friend, proved and tried him to be no ambitious man, for ambition is fearful, and for the least cross of fortune will forsake true friendship. You have got a friend, proved and tried him to be no covetous man, for covetousness selleth fellowship, faith and honesty; to conclude, you have got a friend, who will not by glozing deceive you; by aiming at his own private ends, entrap you; by hunting after popular praise disvalue you; or by consorting with Politic heads, endanger you. Keep him then, and be constant in your choice, holding him so firmly knit unto you, Arist. l. 4. Eth. as if he were individually united to yourself; for a friend, (provided that he be such an one as we have charactered him) is a second-selfe, and therefore as impossible to be divided from you, as you from yourself. And may this suffice to be spoken touching constancy in the choice of Acquaintance, wherein as we ought to be circumspect in our choice, so ought we to be constant, having had proof of the faithfulness of our choice. THere is nothing which argues more indiscretion, Of Reservancy towards Acquaintance. Chap. 27.16. to 22. than an aptness of discovering ourselves; so as, we are advised in getting a friend, to prove him first, and not to be hasty to credit him. For albeit the precept may seem general, The secrets of our friend we may not discover; which is confirmed by the Son of Sirach, Who discovereth secrets, loseth his credit, and findeth no friend after his will: yet, how many are there, who either through weakness that they cannot conceal, or through unfaithfulness, as they will not, have brought their friends to extremest hazard? Yea, not only our common friends, but even those who sleep in our own bosom; as Dalilah played with Samson, either simply or subtly, will discover our secretest counsels to our enemy: so as, we may take up the complaint of Samson, judg. 14.18. which he made in the discovery of his Riddle: If he had not ploughed with our Heifer, he had not found out our Riddle. Had not that Woman by the River of Soreke, Chap. 16.19. that subtle Dalilah, betrayed his trust, how invincible had Samson remained; no less powerful to his friends, then fearful to his enemies? Whence we may gather, how dangerous it is to discover the secrets of our heart, even to those to whom we have engaged our heart: for we ought not to give our friend power over us. This is seconded by a divine precept: Ecclus 33.18. Give not thy son and wife, thy brother and friend, power over thee while thou livest; and give not away thy substance to another, lest it repent thee, and thou entreat for the same again. Whence we are advised to a twofold reservancy; first, in concealing our secrets; secondly, in retaining our substance. For the first, he explains himself more fully in the ensuing verse; As long as thou livest, and hast breath, give not thyself over to any person. For the second, he gives a reason in the end of the former verse; Give not away thy substance to another, lest it repent thee, and thou entreat for the same again. Of which two parts, and the Reservancy which we are to observe in either, my purpose is briefly and plainly to entreat; and first of the first, to wit, Reservancy of secrets, wherein I will be as brief as the quality of the Subject will suffer me. It is said of Geese, that when at the change of seasons, they pass from Cilicia over the mountain Taurus, which abounds with Eagles, they carry stones in their bills, for fear their cry should discover them to their enemies. Reason should teach us that which Nature hath instructed them, lest by diverting from the rule of reason, we become inferior to them, who never had the use of reason. For there is nothing which detracts more from the glory of man, than by too prodigal a discovery of himself, to lay himself open to the trust of another: so as it may be positively averred, There is nothing that betrayeth a man so much to ruin, Aditam nocendi perfido praestat sides. Sen. in Oedip. as his own credulity. Dionysius gave strait commandment the head of Brias, one of the Gentlemen of his Chamber, should be cut off, for telling Plato, who had demanded of him what the Tyrant did, That he had stripped himself by reason of the heat, and was painting in a Table. So tender were Princes of the discovery of their actions, even in affairs of indifferency. Let us imitate therefore that Grecian of former times, who being told that his breath did smell, answered, It was by reason of the many Secrets, which had a long while lain rotting, and putrefying within him. Let our bosom (the recluse of Secrets) be like the Lion's den in the Apologue; towards the mouth whereof, the prints and prickings of sundry sorts of beasts, might easily be discerned,— Sed nulla retrorsum, but from thence none at all. Let us always talk with Harpocrates, at the sign of the finger on the mouth; and learn of Anacharsis, that the tongue hath need of more strong restraint than Nature. Let us not be too curious, 1 Sam. 6.19. 2 King. 10.13 with them of Bethshemesh, in the search of other men's Secrets, nor yet too careless with Hezekiah, in the discovery of our own. Morality giveth us a prohibition for the one, and a precept for the other: Arcanum neque tuscrutaberis ullius unquam; Commissumque teges, & vino tortus & irâ. Hor. Seek not to know that Secrecy Thy friend reserved hath, But keep what's tendered to thy trust, Though drunk with wine and wrath. And indeed it is a profanation of duty to publish any thing we should not; and too much insinuation to wind ourselves into the privacy of others secrets, which make known we ought not. Those things therefore, which are to be concealed, let us conceal them, Vt curia Martis, Athenis, as close as either silence or darkness will afford us means to keep them, both from eye and ear: for the better effecting whereof, there is necessarily required in every one a wise distrust, and slowness of belief, wherewith the breast must so equally be ballasted, that he may suddenly run on, without suffering shipwreck in such a doubtful and dangerous course. Front●m aperiat, mentem tegat. Cic. It hath been ever held a singular argument of policy, to have an open face, but a shut heart; to give entertainment with a free and affable countenance, but with a wise and discreet reservancy of our counsels, to prevent the occasion of giving our friend power over us. Yea, but it may be objected, It may sometimes fall out that a friend cannot perform the office of a friend, but by discovering the secret purpose or practice of another. For how could faithful jonathan advertise David of Saul's wicked purpose against him, 1 Sam. 30.12. but by discovering what Saul in secret had imparted to him? How could he (I say) have advertised David of his father's fury, by shooting three arrows, but by discovering what his father had secretly intended against him? To which objection it may be thus answered; That, as amongst evil men there can be no true friendship continued, so neither are the Secrets of such men, tending ever to mischief and effusion of innocent blood, to be concealed, but by all means should be discovered, that such tragical issues might be prevented. Yea, but it may be again objected, That admit this were so, may we not impart our griefs to a friend, or communicate our counsels to one, whom we have made trial of to be trusty and faithful? To which I answer, That we may, but with this provision, that we never unrip our bosom so far, as to give our friend power over us, in matters which may either concern life, state, or name. For though your experience of the trust of such a friend hath been long, and those affairs wherein you have employed him, of serious consequence: we have known many Comical beginnings, have a Tragical Catastrophe; many promising mornings turn to dusky afternoon's; many fair glozing friends recoil (like the Bat in the fable) and become either neuters, or professed enemies. So as, it was wisely answered by that learned Sage to one who demanded of him, what he thought to be the hardest thing in the world; To keep counsel, Quid difficile ●arcana (inquit) retie●re, & ocium rectè disponere. Laert. in vit. chill. Aristot. quoth he. We say it is good sleeping in a whole skin; but how can our sleeps be quiet, our rest from terrors freed, when we have lost our liberty by committing our Secrets, to others trust? Yea, but friendship, being one soul ruling two hearts, or one heart dwelling in two bodies, loseth her prerogative, if excluded from partaking in her friends griefs or comforts: for would you think it well, that your friends should find you sad, and so leave you; sick without ministering any comfort to you; or poor, without relieving you? Surely, you could not choose but think such an one cometh to jest, rather than to visit or comfort you. Now, how should he comfort you, who is wholly ignorant of the cause of your discomfort? or how minister any receipts to you, when he knows not what distempers you? or how relieve you, when he knows not of any poverty that hath befallen you? Whereto I answer, that these are not to be numbered among those Secrets which we hold unfitting to be imparted or discovered, by one friend to another; for the discovery of these may profit, but cannot prejudice us: Whereas, the disclosing of such secrets as concern our name, may afterwards brand us with infamy; or such as concern our state, may bring us to poverty; or such as concern our life, may wove our unhappy web in a fearful tragedy. Therefore it is good counsel, not to give our friend power over us, but with a circumspect eye to take heed whom we entertain as a friend; and of what nature those secrets are, which we impart to that friend, Sext. Autel in vit. Commodi. When that unhappy Emperor Commodus had communicated his secretest thoughts to Martia, his best affected Concubine; and withal, how his purpose was, before many days were ended, to dispatch Latus and Electus two of his Senators: She perceiving how the world went, and that the Emperor was no less inconstant in his love, than illimited in his lust, discovered to the Senators what the Prince had intended against them; which to prevent, with one consent they resolved to dispatch the Emperor, and so rid them of all occasion of fear. far more hateful was that act of Bessus and Nabarzanes, in discovering the counsels of their unfortunate Prince Darius; which discovery, though it deposed their Prince of Crown, and deprived him of life, rewarded those disloyal Traitors with a deserved end. Should we but take a view of the doubleness and deceitfulness of friends, whose only aims are, for most part, to take advantage of our o●pennesse, we should find, though there be some Hushai's or faithful friends; so there be some false brethren, who secretly (under pretence of amity) will labour to undermine us. 2 Sam. 15.32. For if we be great, we shall have some to ply our vein, soothing us with the height of our place, the eminence of our state, our easy access to a higher step, if we will take hold of occasion; and with these are youngmen, whose unripened judgements never attained to the discovery of persons, chiefly pleased; to these are their secretest thoughts ever imparted; on these are they wholly planted, and in these is their principal trust reposed: yet lo, they trust in broken staves of reed, 2 King. 18.21. on which if they lean, they will go thorough their hand and pierce it. Again, are we rising to greatness, and in the first Spring of promotion? We shall find these chattering Swallows ever flying about us, pertending friendship and secrecy in our counsels; but misery attends us, if we entertain them. To be brief, are we rich? If we have discovered any Secret to them, which may prejudice us being revealed, we shall be sure to have that Secret vented, if our hollow counsellor be not rewarded. Are we poor? though our state need not fear undoing, our secrets must be discovered, if the meanest may be gratified by the discovery. Thus no Rank may be exempted, no degree freed from prejudice, where counsels are disclosed. Indeed sometimes it happeneth, that a friend discovers the secrets of a friend; because, out of the justness of himself, and the integrity of his own conscience, which no respect will suffer him to violate, he cannot endure the sinister or indirect practice of his friend, and therefore discovers it to give means of prevention to the innocent. Which may be instanced in the viscount of Melin his confession, who lying upon his deathbed here in England, disclosed the purpose of King Lewis his Master, to the chief Peers and Barons of the Realm; who considering the inevitable danger into which they were falling, by giving free entry to the French King, Stow. Annal. in vit. johan. wisely in time (and but in time) expulsed him, receiving their unhappy deposed King, to avoid an ensuing mischief. Now the occasion of this discovery, though it be divers ways conjectured, yet the probablest in my opinion is, to refer it to the compassion which Count Melin had of the English Nation, whose state had been, to the judgement of all men, grievously shaken, had Lewis, as he was already arrived, been peaceably possessed of the same. Now to conclude this point, I hold that English Proverb worthy our remembrance, in affairs of Secrecy: One may keep counsel, but two cannot: implying, that it is the safest and surest course to be a man's own Secretary, so shall he not give his friend power over him, but sleep quietly without fear of discovery, having none but his own breast to betray him to his enemy. reservancy in respect of our Substance, Sallust. The second thing, which, as we formerly noted, requireth a reservancy in us towards our Acquaintance, is a respect to our Substance; which should neither be lashed out lavishly, nor hoarded up niggardly. And herein I have observed a great vanity in young Gentlemen, who are no sooner mounted in their father's saddle, or made hei●es of his providence, then upon purchase of Acquaintance, (which a young Master cannot want) he begins to squander his revenues upon gifts, to feed his thirsty followers: but see the issue of these bountiful Novices, they change their Acres into pieces, and so piecemeal divide them, till they fall all into pieces, and have not one piece to cover them. So as, it is true which the Poet hath observed; The Prodigal and fool gives Predigas & siultus donat quae spernit, et edit. Herat. l. 1. cp ●● what he scorns and hates, And with his state makes other men to glory in their states. Wherefore the lesson is good, and well deserveth our observations which is given to us by the Son of Sirach; that not only to our friends, Acquaintance, or the like, but even to our children, whose natural respect to their Parents, should bind them to be grateful, we should not be too forward in distributing our Substance, Ecclus 33.21. concluding thus: For better it is that thy children should pray unto thee, then that thou shouldest look up to the hands of thy children. Nos proprii simus praedi Coloni. If we be advised to use this reservancy to our own, even those whose natural affection will enforce bounty at the Parent's hand, much more to our acquaintance, whose pretended semblances, or outward protestations many times tend rather by fawning to feed on us, then by true profession of friendship to bestead us. Oh Gentlemen, how many through too easy a hold have exposed themselves, as a prey, to the avaricious desires of their followers: where many times it falleth out, that the servant is able to purchase his Master, having enriched himself by feeding his humour! Yet see the unthankfulness of many of these; having made them a garment of their master's shreads, and raised themselves to a great estate by his prodigality, they can learn to put on a scornful countenance towards their landless master, entertain him with contempt, forget his bounty, and ascribe all to their own thriving providence, which proceed merely from his profuseness. So well can these thriving Timists, who raise their fortunes from their master's ruins, shape themselves to all times, that they may profit by all means. There are Acquaintance likewise, whose aims as they extend only to themselves, so they will use any indirect course, how irregular soever, to bring their purpose about. And of these, we had a late example, even in our own Country, and within the walls of this flourishing City: which example, that it might remain to the memory of succeeding times, for the benefit whereof, as well as of these present, our labours should be addressed, I thought good here to set down. There was a young Gentleman, whose profuser course having consumed much of his means, was enforced upon some present extremities urging him, to make a mortgage of a piece of land, which piece was the very last which he had left him: the money being lent and spent, and now the unforeseen day of payment approaching, the young Gentleman driven to an exigent, made recourse by chance, to an ancient Acquaintance of his, by trade a Chandler, who was a moneyed man, and could find a friend in a corner, who upon a commodious bargain would at any time bestead him of a good Sum. He, the Chandler I mean, noting what benefit the Mortgage of the young Gentleman's land might be unto him, if he redeemed his estate, which now lay a bleeding, and took the Mortgage into his own hand, concluded with the Gentleman, and relieved his present wants, proposing a certain day for redemption of the said Mortgage: which was kindly accepted of by the Gentleman, little thinking how he fell from the fire into the flame, and by avoiding Charybdis, had fallen into Scylla. The time now drewneer, which was limited the Gentleman to redeem the premises: whence a double care or fear ensued; a fear and provident care in the Gentleman of procuring money to redeem it; a fear in the Chandler, lest it should be redeemed, and so the hopes he had of so beneficial a bargain frustrated. Which to prevent (mark the impiety of the age even in this one example) the Chandler against the day limited and prefixed, repairs to a consort of opportunate Agents for his purpose; Assassinates fleshed in all mischief, and ready to embrace any motion, or engage themselves in any action, which might minister fuel to their riot. And these he acquaints (as it seems their Acquaintance was ancient) how he knew of a rich Booty for them, if they had hearts to attempt, and resolutions to effect, what their present wants enforced them to attempt. They desirous to hear of that booty, promising him reward if their purpose came to effect, pressed him (as little pressing needed to such a base instrument) that he would discover, where this booty might be purchased. He imparted his mind freely, and told them that such a Gentleman (being the same who had made a Mortgage of his land unto him) was to come provided of a great Sum of money, upon such a day, and by such a place, as gave opportunity for the attempt, which they might easily obtain, having none but himself and his man to resist them. They, at the first seemed jealous of him, imagining it was some fetch merely to entrap and circumvent them; but being more confident upon his protestations, that his purpose was to benefit them, not to betray them; they generally consented to this plot, provided that they might have his company, not only to direct them, but share and partake with them: whereto the Chandler condescended, choosing rather to be an assistant in the practice, then prevented of his purpose. To be short, visard's and disguises were provided, and all things fitted, that such an attempt might be furthered: where, by direction of their Leader, they took their stand, where the unfortunate Gentlemen was to pass; who, within some few hours after, came according to their expectance, provided of a Sum purposely to redeem his estate (the last remainder of his fortunes) out of the hands of the Chandler But he is intercepted and bid stand, whose present occasions admit no stay: and in brief, stripped of all his money, and bound, he and his man, and thrown into a gravell-pit, where we leave them; and return to this perfidious Chandler, who expecting to be a sharer as well in the stake, as in the forfeiture of his estate, is by his witty Copesmates used after another sort than he looked for; being bound hand and foot, and thrown into a ditch adjoining; where he remained, till a Shepherd's boy having occasion to come that way, hearing one piteous mourning, drew near to the place where he heard the voice; but seeing one lie there bound in an ugly vizard, and disguised after an uncouth manner, as one afraid, he run from him, albeit the Chandler humbly entreated him, to lend his helping hand to lose him. The noise which the Chandler made, desiring aid from the Shepherd, and the Shepherd denying aid to the Chandler, was now come to the ear of the afflicted Gentleman, and his man: wherefore they sent out their complaint, as men pitifully distressed; which the Shepherd hearing came forthwith to the place where they lay bound, and seeing the Gentleman, and his man, lent them his helping hand, and delivered them from their bands: directing them withal, to the Pit where the Chandler, his treacherous Acquaintance, lay; whom he knew by his disguise to be one of those, who had taken his money from him: but having pulled off his vizard, and perceived him to be none but the Chandler, his professed friend, you may imagine what diversity of perplexed thoughts encountered him; but suspecting the worst, which after proved the truest, he caused him to be brought before a justice, where he was examined touching the premises, which, to his shame, he confessed, discovering himself to be both Actor and Author of that perfidious complot. For which, being committed, and legally tried, he was adjudged according to his desert, to receive the condign punishment of death. Whose goods being confiscate, our late Prince of renowned memory, out of his royal compassion to the Gentleman's estate, allotted him so much in his princely bounty, as redeemed his engaged lands, repossessing him thereof to his great joy, & an example to succeeding ages, not to repose too much confidence in the profession of Acquaintance. Many examples of like sort (though this may seem imparallel) might be here produced, but I cannot insist upon this point. What hath been herein discoursed, principally tendeth to this end and purpose, to deter young Gentlemen from discovering themselves too openly to these glozing and temporising Acquaintance, whose only aim is to benefit themselves by their weakness, and make their prodigality the only foundation of their providence; whence it is that many times they become enrichers of their retinue, but beggerers of their posterity. And which is of all others most miserable, those whose Sponges they were, and had squeezed them of all their fortunes, will contemptuously demeans themselves towards them, and unthankfully slight them, who by improverishing their own means, have enriched them; whose natures in the person of one especial ungrateful man, are to life expressed by the Poet; Ragged rocks him bred, Nascitur è scopulis nutritus lacte ferino, Et dicam silices pectus habere sum. Ovid. brute beasts him said, No thankfulness can enter His scared Breast, or sealed Chest, which is of flinty temper. And let this suffice to be spoken of reservancy towards Acquaintance, both in respect of our secrecy of counsel; lest by discovering ourselves either upon confidence of another's trust, or transported with passion, (the end whereof is the beginning of repentance) we give our friend power over us, and so by too credulous trust bewray our own weakness: or in respect of our Substance; by a prodigal bounty to our friends and followers, without respect had of our means, and so make our followers our masters. So as, it is right wholesome counsel, which that wise Son of Sirach gave, and which we formerly alleged, but cannot be too often renewed; Give not away thy Substance to another, lest it repent thee, and thou entreat for the same again: Ecclus. 13.18.28. concluding with this excellent Precept; Be not excessive toward any, and without discretion do nothing. Now excuse me Gentlemen, if I have insisted longer on these two points, than the quality of the Subject we have in hand, might seem to require: for I am not ignorant how many of your rank have unfortunately fallen on these two dangerous shelves; either, I mean, by too open a discovery of themselves, or by too prodigal a hand in giving, what they may afterwards stand in need of to relieve themselves. But of these we shall have occasion to speak more amply in our discourse of Moderation; mean time, let this lesson be ever imprinted in the Tablet of your memory: Impart your Mind, but not your Secrets; give where you see desert, but with such reservancy, as it may neither repent you to have given, having extended your bounty to such as are thankful; nor grieve you to have discovered yourselves, having imparted your mind to such as are faithful. Of the absolute end of Acquaintance. IT is a maxim in Philosophy: Whatsoever is, it is for some end: so as all our counsels and consultations, businesses and negotiations, have ever an eye or aim to some special end, to which they are properly directed. For as we see in Elementary bodies, every one by natural motion tendeth to their own proper centre, as light bodies upward, heavy ones downward, being places wherein they are properly said to rest or repose; even so in Arts and Sciences, or the proper Objects to which they are directed, and wherein they are peculiarly said to be conversant, there is ever a certain end proposed, to which, and in which their aims are limited or confined. Whence it is, that excellent Moral saith, That every Task, Labour, Omnis labor aliquò referatur, aliquò respiciat. Sen. de tranque anim. Cornel. Gall. or Employment must have reference and respect to some end: which the Poet confirmeth saying, All things which are, must have a proper end, To which by course of Nature they do tend. So as in my opinion, there is nothing which proceeds in a course more contrary to Nature, then Suits of Law, whose Object is end without end; consuming time and substance in frivolous delays, and multiplicity of Orders, which like Hidra's heads, by lopping off, or annulling one, gives way to decreeing of another. Now to enter into discourse of the absolute end of Acquaintance, we are as well to reprove the indirect ends, which some make of it, as approve of those good and absolute ends for which it was ordained. Wherefore to come unto the point, we are to understand that Acquaintance is nothing else but a familiar friendship, Seneca. or friendly familiarity, which we have one with another. Now there is nothing which doth comparably delight the mind, like a faithful friendship; being, as the Stagyrian Philosopher well defineth it; One soul which ruleth two hearts, and one heart which dwelleth in two bodies. Aristot. Laert. in vit. Biant. So as, of all possessions friendship is most precious, where we are to make no other estimate of our friend's life, then of our own glory: a friend being nothing else then a second self, and therefore as individuate as man from himself. How much then is this sweet union or communion of minds abused, when friendship is only made a state of, professing love and familiarity only for our own ends? And where shall we come, where this abuse of friendship and sociable Acquaintance is not practised? In the Court we shall find smooth and sweet-sented friends, who make friendship a compliment, and vow themselves ours in Protests, Congees, and Salutes: but whereto tend they, but to wind us in, and so become engaged for them? For it stands with reason think they, as we are familiar with them in compliments of courtesy, so they should be familiar with us in the Mercer's book. Too precious are these men's Acquaintance, and too heavy their engagements; let us therefore turn from them, and travel towards the City. And what shall we find there, but many dangerous and subtle friends, who like politic Tradesmen, having heard of our estates, and how we are come to years to dispose of them, will profess themselves to be our Countrymen, in which respect we cannot choose, but make bold with them and their commodities rather than any stranger? Yet it is strange to see how strangely and unconscionably they will use us, making ever their commodities vendible with protestations, and binding them upon us with terms of courtesy. We must then needs conclude, that these men tender friendship but only for their own ends. We are therefore to seek further, and descend to the Country, where we are likest to find them. Yet see, the general infection of this Age! We shall find there, even where simplicity and plain-dealing used ever to keep home, great moneyed men, who to enrich their seldom prospering Heirs, will offer us any courtesy, and to show they love us, they will lend us to support our state, and maintain our riot: but observe their aims; in feeding us, they feed on us; in succouring us, they soak us; for having made a prey of us, they leave us. Likewise we shall find there, many Summer-Swallowes, and find that Sentence in them verified; Though one Swallow make no Summer, yet one man's Summer makes many Swallows. Where then shall we find them? Surely in all these places which we have traced: for in the Court, we shall find friends no less complete than complemental; in the City, friends no less trusty than substantial; and in the Country, friends no less faithful than real. Ecclus 6.13.8. Notwithstanding, we are taught to beware of our friends; and the reason is this, for that some man is a friend for his own occasion, and will not abide in the day of trouble. Having now made choice of such friends and Acquaintance, as may seem to deserve both our knowledge and acceptance, we are to respect the aim or end to which all friendship and Acquaintance may truly and properly be referred. Which (as we formerly observed) is not only matter of gain or worldly profit, as these Brokers and sellers of amity esteem it: for as much friendship may be found in Cheap amongst the Huxters, or in Smithfield with the Horse-coupers, as these profess. But rather, how we may benefit the inward man by a friendly conversation one with another. For which cause (as we have elsewhere noted) came Plato forth of Asia into Cilicia to see and converse with his dear friend Photion; Nicaula the rich Saban Queen, to visit Solomon; Brutus the sincere Roman, to converse with Utican. These, though Pagans, so highly valued knowledge, as their aim was to entertain friendship with knowing-men, purposely to increase, at least preserve their knowledge. For Learning, which is the producer of knowledge, hath ever had such exquisite and admirable effects, as it hath gained due and deserved esteem, not only in respect of opinion, but title and honourable approbation. In itinerary. pag. 444. So as, Nathan Citraeus writeth, that in Prage, an University of Bohemia, where john Hus, and Hierom of Prage professed, that, they that have continued professors for the space of twenty years together, are created Earls and Dukes both together. And therefore their stile is to be called Illustres, whereas they which are singly and simply but only either Earls or Dukes, are called Spectabiles. Neither maketh it any matter that they have no revenues, to maintain Earldoms or Dukedoms: for they have the title notwithstanding, even as Suffragans have of Bishops. This esteem of Learning was no less effectually expressed by one, who encountering with a Scholar, who through necessity was enforced to turn beggar, cried out; Scholasticus? et Mendicus? o Secula ●oeca! A Scholar and a Beggar too? The Age is blind doth plainly show. Yet how contemptible Riches (that worldlings Idol) hath ever been to these, whose conceits were not engaged to pelse, nor their affections to desire of having, may appear by the admirable contempt of divers Pagans towards riches, Nun alterius seculi ros est transire per terramauri sine auro? Bern. de Consid. lib. 4. Zeno noster cum omnia sua audiret submersa, jubet (inquit) me fortuna expeditùs philosophari. Sen. de tranq. anim. Mergam vos ne mergar à vobis. Magnum est malum non posse ferre malum. Sen. Sen. de mal. accident. bonis. lib. 1. preferring a voluntary poverty before all worldly possessions. This might be instanced in Anacharsis, who refused the treasure sent him by Croesiis; in Anacreontes, who refused the treasure sent him by Polycrates; and Albionus, who refused the treasure sent him by Antigonus. The like indifferency towards riches, appeared in the admirable and inimitable patience of Zeno, who hearing all his substance to be drowned by shipwreck upon the Sea; Fortune (quoth he) bids me to address myself to Philosophy more speedily. The like in Mimus, who threw his goods into the Sea, saying; Pack hence, ye evils, for ye were hindrances to me in my pursuit after better goods; it is better for me to drown you, then be drowned by you. Whence it was that Demetrius was wont to say, That nothing could be more unhappy than that man, to whom no adversity ever happened: for that opinion even amongst the Ethnics hath been generally held for most authentic, That nothing can be truly said to be good or evil, but a good or evil mind. Now whereas we have sufficiently proved, that no true friendship can be but only amongst good men, (I mean morally or civilly good) and that aim in the profession of friendship or Acquaintance, is either to better them, or be bettered by them: we are in like sort to make this our aim or supreme end, that having made choice of such whose eminent parts deserve our respect and acceptance, we are to employ our time in conversing and conferring with them, the better to enable us in employments public or private. Neither is this only the absolute aim or end of friendship, for so we should infer that our acceptation or entertainment of friends had reference only to our own private ends, without relation to him with whom we have entered the lists of Acquaintance. We are therefore to have an eye to these especial offices of friendship, being such as deserve our observation and imitation, if so be we deserve the name or title of friends. Especial Offices wherein friendship and Acquaintance should be exercised. First is, If we see our friend doubtful or unresolved, to advise him; if afflicted, to comfort him; if sick or restrained, to visit him; if weak in estate or impoverished, to relieve him; if injured, to labour by all means to right him, and in all things to be helpful to him, supplying his necessity by apparent testimonies of our approved amity. It is reported, that on a time, Duke Godwin bringing up a service to Edward the Confessors Table, he chanced to slip with one of his feet, but to recover himself with the other; whereupon presently he used these words in the Kings hearing; One brother supports another. O (quoth the King) so might I have said too, if Godwin had not been! meaning, that he was the cause of his brother's death, whose life was a staff to his state, but his fall a weakening to his feet. Certainly, every faithful friend should be as a Brother: or, as in a natural body one member ministers aid and succour to another; where the head cannot say to the foot, I have no need of thee, nor the foot to the hand, but every one in their distinct and mutual offices are ready to execute their several duties: So, I say, should friends and Acquaintance be one to another; not in preying or feeding one upon another, as if all were fish that came to net; for this were to make no difference or distinction betwixt friend or foe, but for some intendment of private benefit to dissolve the strict bond of friendship. Arist. Maxima foelicitas hujus mundi confiftis in anticis. Boet. de consol. Phil. Whereas a friend, being indeed a man's second self, or rather an individuate companion to himself, (for there is one soul which ruleth two hearts, and one heart which dwelleth in two bodies) should be valued above the rate of any outward good, being such a happiness, as he giveth a relish to the days of our pilgrimage, which otherwise would seem like a wilderness: for the world, as it is both to be loved and hated; loved as it is the work of the Creator; hated as the instrument of temptation unto sin; ministers some few hours of delight to the weary pilgrim, by the company and society of friends, recourse and concourse of Acquaintance, without which comfort, how tedious and grievous would these few years of our desolate pilgrimage appear? How highly then are we to value the possession of a good friend, who partakes with us in our comforts and discomforts, in the frowns and fawns of fortune, showing himself the same both in our weal and woe? Nemome amicus beneficentiâ, remo inferendâ injuriâ inimicus superavit. Plut. in vit. Syl. Posse et nolle, nobile. It is written of Sylla, that never any did more good to his friends, or more harm to his enemies. Which princely courtesy to his friends could not choose but increase them, howsoever his extreme courses towards his enemies might seem rather to enrage than appease them. For as remembrance of benefits argues a noble nature, so forgetting of injuries (having in the mean time power to revenge) implies a bravely resolved temper. Whence it was, that Themistocles, when Symmachus told him, he would teach him the art of memory, answered, he had rather learn the art of forgetfulness; saying, he could remember enough; but many things he could not forget which were necessary to be forgotten. As the overweening conceit of himself, indignities done him by his foes, opposition in the quest of honour, and the like; all which a great mind could hardly brook, being so illimited as he can admit of no corrival in his pursuit of honour. But to descend to the greatest benefit which proceeds from friendship, Commerce and Acquaintance: we shall find how miserable the state and condition of this flourishing Island had been, whose Halcyon days have attained that prerogative of peace, which most parts of Christendom are at this day deprived of; had not the friendly compassion, and devout zeal, of sundry learned and faithful instruments of Christ, delivered her from that palpable blindness and Heathenish Idolatry, under which she was long detained captive. * Vsque ad adventum Christi Brittannia fertilis provincia tyrannorum, & Scoticae gextes, omnesque usque ad Oceanum per cir●●itum barbarae ●ationes, Moysen, Propheta●que igno●abant. S. Jerome, in the end of his Dialogue against the Pelagians, writeth thus: Until the very coming of Christ, (says he) the Province of Britain, which hath been oftentimes governed by Tyrants, and the Scottish people, and all the Nations round about the Ocean Sea, were utterly ignorant of Moses and the Prophets. So that then, by the testimony of S. Jerome, all our Religion was superstition, all our Church-service was Idolatry, all our Priests were Painims, all our gods were Idols. And to appropriate to every Nation their peculiar god, there was then in Scotland the Temple of Mars; in Cornwall the Temple of Mercury; in Bangor in Wales, the Temple of Minerva; in b Stow Annal in vita Morgani. Malden in Essex, the Temple of c Camdeni Britan. in Essexia. Vistoria; in Bath the Temple of Apollo; in Leycester, the Temple of janus; in York, where Peter is now, the Temple of d Stow Annal. in vita Bladed, & Leyre Regum, & Severi Imperatoris Bellona; in London where Paul's is now, the Temple of e juellus in Tractat. de sacris scriptures pag. 129. Acts 19.28. Templum Christi in templum jovis, Mariae in Veneris, diceres conversa. D. Aegidius. Diana▪ Therefore it is very likely, that they esteemed as highly then of the Goddess Diana in London, as they did in Ephesus; and that as they cried there, Great is Diana of the Ephesians, so they cried here, being deluded with the same spirit, Great is Diana of the Londoners. Even no more than 53. years before the incarnation of Christ, when julius Caesar came out of France into England, so absurd, senseless and stupid were the people of this Land, that in stead of the true and everliving Lord, they served these Heathenish and abominable Idols, Mars, Mercury, Minerva, Victoria, Apollo, janus, Bellona, Diana, and such like. And not long after, Anno Christi 180. King Lucius being first christened himself, forthwith established Religion in this whole kingdom. But thanks, thanks be to God, in the time of the New Testament, three and fifty years after the incarnation of Christ, when joseph of Arimathea, came out of France into England, many in this Realm of blind and ignorant Pagans became very zealous and sincere Christians. For Saint Philip the Apostle, after he had preached the Gospel throughout all France, at length sent joseph of Arimathea hither into England: Who, when he had converted very many to the faith, died in this Land, and he that buried the body of Christ, was buried in f Gildas. lib. de victoria Aurelii. Am. Glastenbury himself. Also Simon Zelotes, another Apostle, after he had preached the Gospel throughout all Mauritania, at length came over into England: who when he had declared likewise to us the doctrine of Christ crucified, was in the end crucified himself, and buried here in g Nicephorus l. 2. cap. 40. Britain. About this time h Dorotheus in Synopsi. cap. 23. Rom. 16.10. 2 Tim. 4.21. The flourishing state of the Church, amidst many hoary winters of innovation. Aristobulus, one of the seventy Disciples, whom Saint Paul mentioneth in his Epistle to the Romans, was a reverend and renowned Bishop in this Land. Also Claudia a noble English Lady, whom St. Paul mentioneth in his second Epistle to Timothy, was here amongst us a famous professor of the faith. Since which time, though the civil state hath been often turned up-side down by the Romans, by the Saxons, by the Danes, by the Normans, yet the Gospel of Christ hath never utterly failed or been taken from us. This the holy Fathers of the Church, which have lived in the ages next ensuing do declare. Tertullian, who lived Anno 200. writeth thus; i Adver. judae. cap. 3. Hispaniarum omnes termini, & Galliarum diversae nationes, & Britannorum inaccessa Romanis loca Christo vero subdita. All the coasts of Spain and divers parts of France, and many places of Britain which the Romans could never subdue with their sword, Christ hath subdued with his word. Origen who lived Anno 260. writeth thus; k Hom. 4. in Ezek. Quando terra Britannia ante adventum Christi in unius Dei consensit religionem? Nunc verò universa terra cum latitio cl●mat ad Dominum. Did the I'll of Britain, before the coming of Christ, ever acknowledge the faith of one God? No; but yet now, all that Country singeth joyfully unto the lord Constantine the Great, the glory of all the Emperors borne here in England, and of English blood who lived Anno 306. writeth in an Epistle thus; l Socrat. l. 1. c. 9 Whatsoever custom is of force in all the Churches of Egypt, Spain, France, and Britain, look that the same be likewise ratified among you. Saint chrysostom who lived An. 405. writeth thus; m Hom. 18. in 2 Cor. In all places wheresoever you go into any Church, whether it be of the Moors, or of the Persians, or even of the very Isles of Britain, you may hear john Baptist preaching. Saint Jerome, who lived Anno 420. writeth thus; n Epist. ad Evagrium. Anno 500 Columbanus in Anglia, Palladius in Scotia, Patritius in Hi●ernia floruit. The Frenchmen, the Englishmen, they of Africa, they of Persia, and all barbarous Nations worship one Christ, and observe one rule of religion. Theodoret who lived Anno 450. writeth thus; o Advers. Graes'. lib. 9 The blessed Apostles have induced Englishmen, the Danes, the Saxons, in one word, all people and countries, to embrace the doctrine of Christ. Gregory the Great, who lived Anno 605. writeth thus; p Epist. lib. 2. cap. 5.8. Who can sufficiently express how glad all the faithful are, for that the Englishmen have forsaken the darkness of their errors, and have again received the light of the Gospel? Beda, who lived Anno 730. writeth thus; q Hist. lib▪ 1. c▪ 1. England at this present is inhabited by Englishmen, Britain's, Scots, Picts, and Romans; all which though they speak several tongues, yet they profess but one faith. Thus you see, how the Gospel of Christ, having been first planted in this Land, by Ios●ph of Arimathea, and Simon Zelotes (in whose time Aristobulus and Claudia, Vide praeter caeteror nec minus inclyti nominis, vitam Bernardi. 2. cap. 7. et Bernard. de considerate. l. 3. and not long after King Lucius also lived) hath ever since continued amongst us; as testifieth Tertullian, Origen, Constantine the Great, Athanasius, chrysostom, Ie●ome, Theodoret, Gregory, Beda, and many more, which might here have been alleged. Now, how singular and exquisite a benefit have our progenitors received, by means of these faithful Professors of the Gospel, and first Planters of the Christian faith here in this Island? What a miserable famine of the Word had the people of this Land sustained, if these faithful friends and sincere Witnesses of the truth, had not loosed from the shore, and embarked themselves in danger, to deliver them from the danger of soul's shipwreck? In which danger, we likewise had been sharers, had not this so rich a fraught, so inestimable a prize rescued us from danger, and directed our feet in the way of peace. The story of Theseus includes an excellent Moral; whose love to his dear friend Pirithous, the Poet labouring to express, shows how he went down to Hell, of purpose to deliver his friend from the thraldom of Pluto, Si miscere licet figmentis s●cra profanis: Atque paludiferis pura fluentalocis▪ under whom he remained captive; which without offence or derogation, may properly seem to allude, (next to that inimitable mirror of divine amity) to these noble and heavenly Warriors, who descended (as it were) even to the jaws of hell, encountering with the insolent affronts of many barbarous Assassinates, ready to practise all hostility upon them: Yet see their undaunted spirits! their godly care inflamed with the zeal of devotion, and their love to the members of Christ, kindled with the coal of brotherly compassion, made them as ready to endure, as those hellish fiends and furies, the enemies of truth, were ready to inflict: choosing rather to perish in the body, then to suffer the poorest soul, bought with so high a price, to be deprived of the hope of glory. These were good and kind friends, being such as would not stick to lay down their lives for their friends; suffering all things with patience and puissance of mind, to free their distressed brethren from the servile yoke of hellish slavery, and bring them by means of God's spirit, by which they were directed, to the knowledge of the allseeing verity. Such as these profess not friendship under pretences or glozing semblances, making their heart a stranger to their tongue, or walking invisible, In upupae nido lapis est diversi coloris, qui tam occultae est virtutis ut gerentem planè invisibilem reddet. Albert. Mag. Basil. as if they had found the stone in the Lapwings nest; but as they are, so they appear, affecting nothing but what is sincerely good ●, and by the best approved. Their absolute aim or end of friendship is to improve, reprove, correct, reform, and conform the whole Image of that man with whom they converse, to his similitude whom all men present. If at any time they enter into discourse, it ever tends to fruitful instruction; if at any time they enter into serious meditation of the world, their meditation is not how to purchase estate, or fish after honour, or build a foundation on oppression, to enrich their posterity with the fruits of their injurious dealing. No, they have the testimony of a good conscience within them, which testifies for them, should the world and all her Complices bandy against them. Wherefore, admit they should be put to all extremities, and suffer all the indignities, which envy or malice could dart upon them, Omnis injuria in sensu patientis. Gravis est miseria iniquè ferenti suavis autem est divino amore ferventi. the weight of every injury is to be measured by the sense or feeling of the sufferer; for the apprehension of the Sufferer makes the injury offered, great or little; if he conceit it small or no injury, howsoever others esteem it, the burden of the wrong is light, and therefore more easily sleights it. Now, Gentlemen, we have traced over the whole progress of Acquaintance, wherein if happily it be thought, that we have sojourned too long, my answer is; That in passages of greatest danger, there is required more circumspection, then rashly to go on without due deliberation. And what occurrent in all the passage or pilgrimage of man, is beset with more danger than the choice of Acquaintance; especially to you, gentlemans, whose means is the Adamant of Acquaintance? We have therefore insisted the longer upon this Subject, that you may be the less subject to such, who will wind them in with you, of purpose to feed and prey on you. To cure which malady, no receipt more sovereign, then to imprint in your memory that golden rule or princely precept, recommended by that pious and puissant Saint Lewis to his son Philip, in these words: Have especial care that those men, whose Acquaintance and familiarity you shall use, be honest and sincere, whether they be Religious or Secular; Precept. 9 vid. Goguin. lib. 7. Hist. Franc. Sur. Tom. 4. with whom you may converse friendly, and communicate your counsels freely; but by all means avoid the company of naughty and wicked men: whose society ever tends to inordinate respects. Take these Cautions therefore as the last, but not lest worthy your observation. Be not too rash in the choice of your Acquaintance, for that shows weakness; Nor inconstant to those you have chosen, for that argues lightness; Nor too forward in the discovery of your counsels; for so you might be taxed of too much openness; ever aiming at that absolute end of Acquaintance, to profit more and more in the practice of goodness. So shall God be your Guide, good men your friends, and your Country where you had education, receive much glory from your life, and conversation. THE ENGLISH GENTLEMAN. Argument. Moderation defined; No virtue can subsist without it; Wherein it is to be used; Wherein to be limited; Of the accomplished end which attends it. MODERATION. IN the whole progress of man's life, Observ. 7. which is nothing else, but a medley of desires and fears; we shall find, that there is no one virtue which doth better adorn or beautify man, than Temperance or Moderation; which indeed is given as an especial attribute to man, purposely to distinguish him from brute beasts, whose only delight is enjoying the benefit of Sense, without any further aim. THis Moderation therefore, Moderation defined. Omnis quae à ratione suscipitur de aliquare institutio, debet à definitione proficisci, ut intelligatur quid sit id de quo disputetur. Cio. offic. l. 1. being a note of distinction betwixt man and beast, let us draw near to the knowledge of this so exquisite a virtue; which, that we may the better attain, let us first see how she is defined: because every instruction grounded upon reason touching any subject, aught to proceed from a definition, that we may the better understand what that is, whereof we dispute. Moderation is a subduer of our desires to the obedience of Reason, and a temperate conformer of all our affections, freeing them from the too much subjection either of desires or fears. First, it causeth our Desires to be subject to the obedience of reason, pulling us always by the sleeve, and remembering us how we are men and partake of reason, and therefore ought not to subject our Desires to the captivity of Sense, as brute beasts which have no reason. Secondly, it is a conformer of all our affections, freeing them from all unworthy subjection, either in respect of our Desires or Fears: of our Desires, as having learned in all things to be contented, whether that portion wherewith God hath blessed us, be little or great: of our Fears, as suffering no worldly thing to be so nearly endeared to us, as to fear the losing of it, which we so dear tender. For the first, it is an excellent saying of a sage Moral, Nihil interest an habeas, an non concupiscas. Sen. There is no difference between having, and not desiring; for he that desires nothing, enjoys more than he that possesseth the whole world; for his desires are satisfied, which the worldling can never be, so long as his thoughts and desires are to the objects of earth engaged: so as, the difference betwixt the poor wanting, and rich not using, is by these two expressed, the one carendo, the other non fruendo: whereas, if the poor having little, desire no more than that little which they have, they become rich in desire; and enjoy by desiring little, more above estimate then the dunghill wretch (whose eyes cannot enjoy themselves for coveting) will ever be master of. For as men sick of an Atrophy, eat much, but thrive not; so these, though they devour widows houses, feed upon the fat of the Land, lay land unto land, and hoard up treasure to enrich a progeny of rioters, yet these seldom thrive with the fat of their oppressions, but make ofttimes as fearful ends, as their beginnings were calm and prosperous. It is a singular blessing, which the Poet attributes to one, who was not only rich, but could enjoy that he had freely; Dil tibi divitias de derant artemquè fruendi. Hor. Epist. lib. 1. God gave thee wealth and power to use it too, Which these Earthworms of ours can never do. Neither only in matters of Desire, are we to entertain the choice company of Moderation, but in our Fears, where we many times fear to forgo, what we already with much content enjoy. So as the former direct their aim to what they have not; but the latter stand surprised with fear, lest they should lose what they already have: the former argues an avaricious mind, who can never confine his Desires to what it hath; the latter, a worldly besotted affection, that can never find heart to forgo what it already enjoys. A Philosopher perceiving Dionysius to sit merrily in the Theatre, after he was expulsed his Realm, condemned the people who banished him: Certainly, this Prince showed an admirable Moderation, both in respect of his Desires and Fears; first, in his Desires, extending not his thoughts above that low verge whereto his Tyranny had forced him; nor fearing any succeeding loss, being above the reach of greater misery. Plutarch. in vit. Camill. This Moderation appeared in Furius Camillus, whom neither honour could too much transport, nor disgrace cast down; bearing the former with no less temperance, than he did the latter with patience; and esteeming it his only conquest, to conquer passion in the height of affliction. It is likewise a great argument of Moderation, when in extremity, we stand prepared to encounter with the worst of danger, passing all inducements to fear, with a mind no less resolute than cheerful, saluting affliction with a smile, and entertaining surmises of danger with a jest. This did Crassus, who being willed by the Arabian guides to make haste before the Moon was past Scorpio; But I (said he) fear more sagittary, Appian. Alex. meaning the Archers of Persia. There is nothing which expresseth more true worth in any man, than his constancy and courage in the encounters of this life; imitating, in this respect, Vespasian, who upon the instant of his Dissolution, when death had summoned him to make present surrender, by paying his debt to Nature, of that short Lease of life, which with many an unquiet hour he had traced, standing up upon his feet, Plutarch. in vit. Vespas. used these words; It became an Emperor to take his leave of earth standing: implying, that the extremities, which either Nature or Fortune could inflict upon him, could not so much deject him, or by their assaults enforce him to do aught unworthy himself. Whence we are taught (and well may this lesson deserve our observation) to entertain this life with patience, Habere vitam in patientia, mortem in desiderio. Sen. expecting death with a desired assurance: for there is no better means to moderate the passions of Desire and Fear, then to enter into meditation of the world; and withal to consider, how there is nothing of that esteem in the world, that may seem worthy our Desires, coveting to have it; or worthy our Fear, inwardly doubting to lose it. This serious consideration will be of force to move the greatest worldling to a Moderation of his desires, subjecting them to the obedience of reason. Whereas, if he should give reins to his own Avarice, Ericthous bowels could not contain more in proportion, than his in an illimited desire and affection: for the World, being like a City without a wall, a house without a door, a ship without helm, a pot without a cover, and a horse without a bridle; hath brought out people equally consorting with her in nature and temper; of unbridled and uncorrigible dispositions, naturally affected to all sensual liberty, Cohaeres Christi, quid gauds? quia socius es pecorum? Aug. preferring one minute's pleasure or profit before an eternity of succeeding pleasures and profits, reserved for those only whose lives are employed in promoting their Maker's glory, being wholly addressed to please him; and whose deaths, like the choicest odours, sent out a sweet smell, the perfume of a good and virtuous life, sending out a voice even in their last period to praise him. What admirable moderation divers ancient Princes have shown, especially in their contempt to the glory and pomp of this life, Histories can afford sufficient examples; but to omit foreign instances, my purpose is to insert here one of our own; which, by how much more near us, by so much deeper impression should it enforce in us. Canutus that was absolute King almost of five kingdoms, somewhat before the Conquest, upon a time in his Progress riding near the Thames, light and sat down before the shore: then, as it were to try a conclusion, he commanded the water being now ready to arise again and to flow, not to come any nearer him: But the water keeping his natural course, came up still higher and higher, till it began to wet him. Whereupon to his Nobles, which were about him, Ye call me (says he) your King and Master, and so indeed I am; and yet lo ye, I cannot command so much as this little stream; but do what I can that will do still as it list. Whereupon presently he posted to Westminster, and resigned his Crown to the Crucifix there; neither could he ever after this be persuaded to wear it any more. The like indifferency to all princely, honours, showed those memorable Saxons, Kingulfus, Iva, Ceodulphus, Eadbertus, Ethelredus, Keredus, Offa. Sebbi, Sigebertus. Charles the fifth Emperor of Germany, gave up his Empire into the hands of the Prince's Electors, and withdrew himself in the year 1557. into a Monastery. The like of late years did his son, King Philip of Spain. Neither need we to exemplify this subject, touching contempt of the world, only in such as the glorious light of the Gospel had shone upon, but such whose time of darkness had never attained to so blessed a Sunshine: Mihi credit, mori mallem quam imperare. Otho. As it may be instanced in Dioclesian, who voluntarily relinquished the flourishingest Empire in the world. Yea, to add one example more, even amongst those whose best Religion is Policy, and whose only aims are to enlarge their own Sovereignty: Amurah the second, Emperor of the Turks, after he had gotten infinite victories, became a Monk of the straightest Order amongst them, in the year of our Lord 1449. All which may seem to confirm what Sel●ucus being King was wont to say, Curia curis stringitur, Diadema spinis cingitur. Aphorism. That if a man knew with what care a Diadem was clogged, he would not take it up, though it lay in the street. So as, when the Romans had despoiled Antiochus of all Asia, he gave them great thanks, saying, they had rid him of many insupportable cares. Now, as we have defined this virtue to be a subduer of our desires to the obedience of reason, and a temperate conformer of all our affections; so are we to direct our eye to the conclusion, to wit, a freer of the affections from the too much subjection, either of desires or fears. So as, we are here to observe, that he is the man whom our definition only aims at, whose well-tempered breast is neither transported with a desire of enjoying what it hath not, nor surprised with a fear of losing what it now enjoys: Having so much as may content him, the loss whereof should he sustain, could ne'er deject him. Such an one the Tragic Poet entitleth a Prince, as one too worthy to be numbered amongst the inferior rank: Sen. in Thyestes. Who fears, desires, and flilling cares suppress, Are Kings at least, they can be nothing less. For these are they who have absolute sovereignty over their passions, and in prosperity scorn as much to be proud, as in adversity to show themselves base. Yea, they will rather entertain the extremest encounters that misery can lay upon them, then lose the least of that liberty of mind, with which their noble temper hath endued them. In brief, those only who dis-value sublunary things, esteeming them as they are, only to minister to our necessity, and not to rear them, as blind worldlings use, in the tabernacle of their heart to commit idolatry, keep consort with this Definition; for the golden means, as it is only approved by them, so in a princely moderation of their affections, they are ever readiest to enter lists with their own passions, that if any either exceed or come short of this mean, they may so square and hammer it till it be reduced to a proposed means. And let this suffice, for the Definition: we will now descend to the second branch, wherein we intent to show, that no virtue can subsist without Moderation, being indeed the temper which allayeth and aptly disposeth all our actions, making them equally seasoned, which otherwise would become violent and immoderate. AS Moderation is a subduer of every inordinate or indisposed affection, so is it a seasoner or temperer of all our actions, making them seem worthy the title of virtuous, No virtue can subsist without it. which without this temper would appear vicious. For without this Moderation, he that is liberal should incur the name of prodigal, the frugal the name of miserable, the resolute be termed dissolute, the moral civil man a coward, the wise Stoical, the regular merely formal, the just rigorous, the merciful remiss. So defective is the structure of all virtues, wanting the sweet temper of Moderation to season them. Neither proceedeth this from the malevolent or uncharitable censures of men, as former times, have been too apt to traduce or misinterpret their best deservings, by aspersing some unworthy blemish upon their demerits: As in Rome, if the Piso's bee frugal, they are censured-parcimonious; if the Metelli religious, they are taxed superstitious; if the Appii popular, they are termed ambitious; if the Manliis austere, they are styled tyrannous; if the Leliis wise, they are curious; the Publicolae aspiring if courteous; But merely upon the want or deficiency of such actions, which are not tempered with Moderation. For to give instance in each kind; how nobly and invincibly did Alexander the great bear himself in all exploits? how much feared abroad, and how much loved at home? how affable to his friends, and how terrible to his foes? Yet how much were all his actions, of valour and matchless resolution darkened through want of Moderation, being so excessively given to passion in his drink, as his nearest and dearest friends could not be secure from his fury? For howsoever those acts and exploits of his against Darius, yea against all opponents, expressed the nobleness of his person, with the continued attendance of succeeding fortune; yet the death of Clitus, the torments he inflicted on calisthenes, and depopulation of Persepolis, Quint. C●tt. detracted as much from his glory, as ever his Conquests gained him glory. Plutarch. in vit. Ages. Likewise, how just and sincere was Agesilaus held in all matters of justice? how free from this Age's stain, corruption? how far from personal respect, or to be overawed by the offender's greatness? so as, Plutarch in Alexandro. like the world's General (of whom we even now made mention) and of whom Plutarch reports, that he used to shut the one ear with his hand when he heard any accuser in criminal causes, thereby (as he said) reserving audience for the defendant; semblably did this renowned Patron and Patterne of unblemished justice greatly eclipse those more glorious lights which shone in him, for want of moderating his affection towards his children? Plut in Apotheg. Eras. in Apotheg. Ludens par impar, equitausque in arundinelonga. Agis rex Lacedaemon. So as his riding upon a cockhorse did no less argue his weakness, than his sincerity in matters of justice witnessed his uprightness. Albeit, his discreet parental Answer to such Sages as occasionally repaired to him amidst that trifling pleasure, might seem to qualify this error: Gentlemen, ye that see me thus highly taken with this childish and unmanly pleasure, till ye have children of your own, suspend your censure. Lastly, how profoundly wise was the Lacedaemonian Chilo held to be, being numbered among the Seven Sages of Greece, Laert in Chilo. and elected Ephorus, a place of especial honour and esteem? how exquisite his sentences? how quick and pregnant his answers? how solid his reasons? how absolute in all his proceedings? Yet behold for want of moderation of his passions, how childishly he gave way to excess of joy, whereby he was enforced to pay his debt to nature. Whence we may easily collect, that no virtue, how Cardinal soever, can subsist without the assistance of moderation, being that Lesbian rule which direct● the Model, and makes it truly accomplished. What excellent fruits are derived from Temperance. All virtues (saith one) do make a Commonwealth happy and peaceable: but Temperance alone is the sustainer of civil quietness; for it taketh care that the Realm be not corrupted with riot and wanton delights, whereby divers States have been cast away▪ Or, to descend more particularly to those divine effects which this virtue produceth, it hindereth dishonest actions, restraineth pleasures within certain bounds, and which maketh men to differ from bruit beasts. Moreover, this is that herb, which Mercury gave to Ulysses, lest he should taste of the Enchanters cup, and so with his fellows be transformed into a Hog, Homer. lib. 10. Odyss. Oculi dolores. Plut. in vit. Alex. Honours mundi, tumores mundi. Euche. Epist. Paren. de contempt. mundi. Velamen istud Antichristi. Hieron. ad Furiam de vid. Serm. Tom. 1. Amici fure● temporis. Cic. wallowing in the mire of all sensual delights. So as, whosoever is endued with this virtue, stands fortified against all assailants; those eyesores (for so Plutarch calls them) I mean those attractive objects of lust, cannot surprise him: nor those worldly tumors (for so Eucherius styles them) I mean worldly honours, entrap him. Not those robes or rags of shame, the gorgeous attire of sin (which Hierome calls Antichrists veil) delude him. Nor those Thiefs of time, (for so the Orator is pleased to call them) I mean friends and acquaintance, overjoy him. In brief, as the Unicorn's horn being dipped in water, clears and purifies it; so there is no poison either arising from the tempting object of beauty, from the ambitious aspiring to honour, from the attire of sin or cover of shame, or from those sweet time-beguilers or Acquaintance, which is not frustrated by this choice and sovereign receipt of Temperance. So as this is that virtue, which (though in general it deserve to be affected of all) great men ought specially to embrace, that by their example the common sort might become temperate: for this is the reason why so many now a days live riotously like beasts, Arist. lib. 1. Ethic. cap. 5▪ namely, because they see Noblemen, and Magistrates that govern the Commonwealth, to lead their lives wantonly, as Sardanapalus did. Whence it was that the Poet so seriously concluded; Great is the crime, it cannot choose, If he be great that doth it use. For as we see in colours, there is none which discovers any soil or blemish so much as white; or as we have observed in the eclipse of the Sun, that it draws more eyes to view it, than the darkening of any inferior light: so amongst the children of men, though sin be sin in every one, yet more noted, and in that more exemplar, in these high peering Cedars, I mean our Peers and Nobles, then in these lower shrubs, whose humble condition frees them from like public observance. How necessary is it then for you, gentlemans, whose birth hath ennobled you, whose breeding hath enabled you, and whose more generous spirits have emboldened you, to undertake assays for the glory and benefit of your Country, the better to express your love and allegiance to your Prince: to become affecters and practisers of so singular a virtue, that your lives might be patterns of Moderation unto others, seeing more eyes are fixed upon you than on inferiors? Accepit luxuriet sceptrum; quid sperandum est praeter naufragium? August. You are Moulds wherein meaner men are ●asten; labour then by your example to stamp impressions of virtue in others, but principally Temperance, seeing no virtue can subsist without it. It is dangerous (saith Austin) when prodigality and riot sway a Sceptre; neither only is it dangerous for the person whose illimited affections, of a Prince make him a vassal; but for the whole body of the State, training it to all impiety by his evil example. The Laconians, by means of wife and temperate Princes, Plut. in Apoth. became admired for their Moderation and continence: insomuch as their spare diet, their homespun raiment, and their general hate to all access, made them no less honoured at home, than feared abroad. Whereas, chose, the Sidonians, by following the riotous examples of some of their licentious Princes, fell into all excessive gluttony. So powerful and persuasive were the lives of Princes, to enforce impressions of goodness or badness in the imitation of their Subjects. But to take a review of those main assailants of Temperance, Caro & mundus pleni sunt spinis: conversari in his & non laedi, divinae potentiae est & non virtutis humanae. Bern. lust, ambition, gorgeousness in apparel, luscious fare, company-keeping, and the like, we shall find that where this temperance is, albeit these objects even in their height should encounter him, the bait will be long laid ere it can take him. For to run over all these, and illustrate them with proper instances, we shall plainly show; that where a divine power is ready to assist, and man no less ready, upon temptations approaching, to resist, all these motives can take no place. What admirable Continency showed Alexander in the conquest of his affections, sparing Darius' wife and his three daughters? Quint. C●●t. lib. 3. how greatly did this world's Monarch enlarge his glory by this only conquest? Yet to reflect upon those objects of beauty we shall find; if records be true which write of them, that for beauty they were incomparably gracious, and for state the choicest Dames of Persia. The like we read of Scipio, who being a young man of four and twenty years of age, Cum de virtutibus agitur, nulla excellentior cernitur quam illa quae in castis adolescentibus in venitur. Sallust. in I●g. Bel. Vid. Plutarch. in Apotheg. Q. Curt. lib. 4. cap. 11. of strong constitution, and promising personage, in the taking of a City in Spain, repressed his flames of lust, albeit a beautiful maid was brought him; restoring her to a young man called Allutius, to whom she was espoused, with a great reward. But incredible is the report of Zenocrate's Continency, who lying all night with Lais though she used all the provocations and enticements she could devise, yet he remained immovable to her voluptuous inducements. And to close this illustration with an heroic instance, Cleopatra in the last tragic Scene of her disasters, kneeling at the feet of Caesar, laid baits for his eyes; but in vain, her beauties were beneath that Prince's chastity. Neither are Histories (those precious treasuries of time) less plentiful in instances of Moderation touching motives of Ambition. When all the worldly Romans (I mean such whose demerits had gained them an eminent esteem with their country) had a desire to preserve their memories by erection of their Statues, Cato would not; and being demanded the cause, Mallem quae●i cur Statue mihi nulla posita fit, quam cur sit. Cato. Seneca. answered; If I might choose, I would rather have it asked why Cato hath no Statues erected for him, than why they are erected for him: Implying that Virtue, which is the most continued shrine, and, as that sage Moral saith, maketh man a god, had more power to eternize him, than all material Monuments; which, as they are subject to corruption, so shall their names be, which are engraven on them. From their contempt shown to these sumptuous covers of corruption, Prasulgeb●●t Iunin● & Blaesus eo ipso, quod effigies eorum non viseb●ntur. Tacitus. junius and Blaesus, by the testimony of Tacitus received no less glory; whose Statues, because they were not engraven in stone, appeared more conspicuous to the eye of the State. No less Moderation of his desires showed Agesilaus, that princely pattern of justice; who, when the Egyptians, came forth of purpose to adore him, for those numerous and glorious victories which he had achieved, couched himself close upon the grass, without least show or semblance of Majesty, expressing the humility of his thoughts by the lowness of his seat. But of all others, there is no one example, to instance a true Moderator of Ambition, like that noble and victorious Champion; Godfrey de Boulogne, whose valour so bravely employed in expulsing the Turks and freeing jerusalem, that City of the great King, from miserable slavery, had gained him so deserved a name, as it was thought fit his honourable service should be rewarded with a golden Diadem; but how answered this glorious Champion? far be it from me (quoth he) to suffer the servants head to be with a Crown of gold paled, where the Master's head was with a Crown of thorns pierced. To produce likewise instances in such whose Moderation in attire, manifested their contempt to these covers of shame, we shall find Lycurgus, Photion, Pelopidas, Plut. in vit. Legitur in Gestis Romanorum, quod ille q●i primitiùs inter eos vestem purpuream induit, à fulgure percussus est, & sic interiit. Faces faecesque superbiae. Sueton. Aul. Gell. Noct. Atti. l. 13. c. 11. Alex. Gen. dic. lib. 5. c. 21. with many others, such professed foes to gorgeous apparel, as they always retained their ancient country wear with such plainness, as they expressed what they were, by the garments they wore. For a man's garment (saith the Son of Sirach) and his excessive laughter, and his going, declare what person he is. Insomuch as Augustus Caesar bore always hatred to gorgeous and sumptuous apparel, terming it the blazer and bruiter of our pride, the nests to hatch the lascivious brood of Lechery. In like manner, to descend to all those assailants of Temperance, we shall find many excellent subduers of their own affections, using an admirable kind of restraint or Moderation in their fare. The number of guests amongst the Romans in any solemn feast privately observed, was not great, seldom times exceeding nine; whence Aulus Gellius saith, that the number of guests should begin with the Graces, and end with the Muses; that is, they must not be fewer than three, nor more than nine. Which use was occasion of that adage, Septem convivium, novem convitium faciunt; Seven make a banquet, nine a riot. Albeit that luxurious Emperor Heliogobalus seemeth to have been delighted with the number of eight; whence he invited to supper, to make his feast more singular, 8. bald ones, eight blind ones, S●uckius de convi. lib. 2. cap. 2. eight gouty ones, eight deaf ones, eight hoarse ones, eight very black ones, eight very long ones, eight very fat ones, and eight hooke-nosed ones, being delighted with that Greek Proverb, 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉: whose Ape, it seems, that late conceited Academic was, who invited the blind, lame, and deformed to a supper, for whom he had provided fowls, as different to their palate by nature, as they were to others in feature; furnishing his feast with Owls, Cuckoos, Staniels, and popinjays, to make himself infamously famous for his invention. But to proceed with these Ethnic instances of Moderation; Democritus preserved his life without any other sustenance, save only the smell of hot bread, for the space of nine days: which abstinence or restraint was not enjoined him; for neither his own estate, nor any superior commanding power, had enforced him to that misery; but purposely to prepare himself for celebrating with more solemnity the feasts which were kept in honour of Ceres, called commonly (as I take it) Buthysia; resembling in greatness of celebrity, and magnificence of estate, that huge sacrifice called Hecatomb. Pythagoras likewise was of that wonderful Moderation in his fare, and that through no infirmity of Nature, in that he could not, but through an incessant desire to his studies; with a vehement affection to the preservation or propagation rather of all living creatures; as he would desire two things of God, if the possibility thereof could stand with the conservation of humane society; that he might not Speak, that he might not Eat: Haec d●od Deo, modo cum conservetione naturae stare poterint, unicè postulaebat; ut à loquendo & edendo perpetuò abstineat. by the one to prevent offence in discourse, by the other avoid surfeit by excess. So as, he commanded his scholars even in unreasonable things, as Birds, Beasts, Fishes, etc. to abstain from cruelty; entreating both Fowlers and Fishers to let go the fowl and fish they had caught, or else redeem them with money, and let them go. But too immoderate was this care, and too foolish this pity; for creatures were ordained for the use and service of man; he then that neglecteth the use, neglecteth likewise the ordinance. But in Subjects of Moderation, none more absolute, then where Nature is urged by necessity to crave relief, and occasion is ministered, yet the desire restrained: as in extremity of thirst, when Nature requireth drink, Vltimum refugium naturae, est potus. Axioma. which according to the Philosopher's axiom, is the very last refuge of Nature, either through compassion or manly Moderation, her desires is restrained. This did Alexander, who out of a princely Moderation or noble compassion, when he was almost consumed with drought, having a head-piece full of water presented unto him, would not drink himself, but offered it to his soldiers. Much to be admired was this act of Moderation, and a motive of general affection, that a Prince urged by the extremest effects of thirst, and having occasion and means to satisfy the request of Nature, yet moved with compassion towards his fellow-soldiers (for so used he to term them) he choosed rather to want himself, then to be wanting in any compassionate office to their necessity. Certainly this act deserveth so much the more to be commended, by how much the extremity was greater which he suffered. Darius, when in his flight he drank muddy and stinking water, said, That he never drank a sweeter draught. Which implies, what torment he endures who feels the extremity of thirst. The last assailant of Temperance (as we formerly observed) was Company-keeping; which indeed is such a stealer of time, or beguiler of tedious hours, as it makes passing of time a mere pastime. Yet observe, what diligent care hath been had, by making choice of such (as I have elsewhere noted) whose society might better them. Gell. in Noct. Attic. Peruse those Athenian nights in Gellius, and you shall find how fruitfully those nights were employed, how delightfully passed: making discourse of Philosophy, that well-consorting melody, which gave general content to all the Company. Aug. de Academ. Besides, it is worth our observation, to take a view of the special care divers Ancients have had of the Company they consorted with: having such in as great distaste that were evil, as they bore all due reverence to such as were good. We read how the Prienean Bias, having occasion to sail on a time with some ill-disposed men, by reason of a violent tempest, the ship wherein they sailed was so shaken, as these wicked men, moved rather by fear then devotion, begun to call upon their gods; Laert. in vit. Biant▪ which Bias hearing, Hold your peace (quoth he) lest the gods you call upon understand that you be here; covertly taxing their impiety, and showing that their prayers would be little acceptable to the gods. But an example much more divine, and so much deserving our imitation, may be here commended to us in the person of the blessed Evangelist S. john, August. lib. 3. de Bapt. cont. Don. cap. 10. who would not come within the Bath where the Heretic Cerinthus was, so much did he hate the Fellowship of him, who, to use Augustine's words, Was no fan for the Lords floor. Thus have we run over those mainest and mightiest assailants of Temperance; now let us, as we have illustrated each of them with proper instances of Moderation, annex some reasons why these assailants of Temperance ought to be restrained: and first for the first. Lust, the sensual man's sin, is said to be a friend which brings man in acquaintance with the Devil, as Ebriety is an enemy to the knowledge of God. Ebrietas inimica est cognitioni Dei; Cupidit as amica necessitudini Diaboli. Ambros. lib. 1. de Abraham. Qui luxuriatur, vivus mortuus est. Hier. Besides, it is a vice detestable both to the brute beast and Barbarian; it withdraws the mind of the creature from meditation of his Creator; makes man commit sin even with greediness; makes the Image of God companion for a Harlot; makes him who should be the Temple of the Holy Ghost, a Cage of unclean birds; prostitutes the glory of the soul to the pleasure of sin; and prefers a sensual delight before the obedience of reason. He sells his Birthright for less than a mess of pottage, exposing his soul to the traffic of shame. He values a minute's joy above all future delight; yea, rather than lose his present content, he will suffer an eternity of torment. This bleere-eyed Lover is so blinded with affection towards his beloved, that he will rather lose his own soul, then lose that which he affecteth. Thus you see the Lustful man uncased, Bona est castitas conjugalis, melior continentiae vidualis, optima perfectio virginalis. Beda. Qui non nubent, ●xores non ducunt, sicut Angeli in terra sunt. Ambros. Supergreditur virginitas conditionem humanae naturae, per quam homo angelis assimilatur. ibid. Virginitas si labitur, nulla poenitentia reparatur ad integritatem. Ifid. de Sum. Bon. Audenter loquor, cum omnia possit Deus suscitare, tamen non potest virginem post ruinam. Valet quidem de poena liberare, sed non valet coronare corruptam. Hier. his blindness discovered, his sundry weaknesses displayed, and the heavy effects which from hence are derived: good reason then have you to restrain an affection so overspreading, a motion so mortally wounding, a contagion so generally killing. Take into your consideration the shortness of the pleasure, being but a moment; the vengeance or punishment due to that pleasure, being eternal. What wise man, having nearly served his apprenticeship, will for a minute's pleasure forfeit his Indenture, and lose his freedom for ever? We should hold him destitute of common sense, who having a Princess offered him, will foolishly lose her for embraces of an Harlot. If you will keep yourselves unspotted till the day of his coming, you shall be espoused to a princely Bridegroom, and receive Palms in your hands at his coming. Go● not in by the ways of the strange woman, but keep your beds undefiled, knowing the state which you have undertaken to be honourable before God and man. For I in no case will limit you to a monastic or regular restraint, but approve of both estates, I mean both the single and married life, being undertaken in the fear of God, worthy the acceptance of every faithful Christian. For the Virgin's estate, as it draws nearer to angelical perfection, so the Married to the preservation of humane society or propagation. So as Saint Augustine might seem rather to be traduced, then truly alleged for this place, Virgins do more than lawful, as Adulterers less: for my conceit shall ever be freed, from imagining so divine a Father to approve of such an error: for both estates are commended; the one good, the other better; both which titles, as they are by the Apostle on these two estates conferred, so are they by us to be reverently esteemed. Briefly, restrain all immoderate desires of the flesh, which fight against the spirit, so shall you find that inward tranquillity which obedience to your lusts shall never bring you. Ambition, the second assailant of Temperance, is such an high-mounting bird, as she useth to build her nest ever in the tallest Cedars, hatching her aeries in the highest spires, to express her unbounded aims. This passion or distraction rather, of all others, brings man soon to a forgetfulness of himself: ever aspiring, but never obtaining; ever sailing in a tempestuous sea, attented by many hostile and piratical adherents, whose aims are to intercept all peaceable passengers, filling the whole state full of mutinies and combustions. Pindarus describes him to be such an one, who strives to touch the Clouds, and cope with jove himself, but is aims draw him on to speedy ruin. What reason then is there to foster or cocker such a professed foe to public and private peace? Who is he, having understanding, will receive into his barge, where he is, a quarrelous turbulent fellow, who in desperate fury will not stick to over-whelme the vessel, both of himself, and the rest that consort him? Who is he that will engage him in peril, when he may in safety enjoy himself, and be free from danger? Who is he that will desire to climb, when he knows there is no means to save him from falling, being got up? Surely the Ambitious man is ever environed with peril, yet such is his folly, he will rather choose to incur danger, then lose the present opportunity of acquiring honour. Besides, they whom this unbounded passion hath once surprised, are so much distempered, as of sleep they are quite deprived; which disquiet proceeds either from emulation towards others, or an ambitious desire of advancement in themselves. For the first, Themistocles was wont to say, that Miltiades victory in Marathon, bereft him of his sleep. For the latter, Sylla could never take rest, till by the terror of his legions, Vel●a, or Velleia. Alphons. in lib. de Haeres. in verb. Tyrannis. Soto. lib. 5. de Iust. & jure. quaest. 1. artic. 3. Si tanta humilitate se deprimit divina majestas, superbire in quo audet & praesumit humana infirmitas? Aug. de conflictu vitiorum. Mihi mirabile fit quod non enecentur, cum tantum o●us bajulent. Clem. Alexan. 2. Paedag. O nobilem magis quam faelicem pan●um! Stob. Sur. 47. Si Adam nunquam offendisset, ad dume●● non confugisset, nec ficul nec folia in perizomara consuisset. he had obtained the law Valeria to be made, whereby he was created Dictator for eight years; as Caesar the law Servia, by which he was perpetual Dictator. Albeit, having obtained what they desired, and arrived at the port whereto their course was directed, they found an Empire to be a monstrous and untamed beast, wounding them with many thorny cares, which deprived them of all seasonable rest. Do you then love to be at peace to enjoy perfect liberty, to be divided from all occasions of disquiet? Restrain those Icarian thoughts, whose soaring wings are ever laved in the depth of ruin. Confine your thoughts within an equal limit: and let not your projectments be above hope of effecting. Those braving builders of Babel, aimed at too high a story to bring their work to perfection. Let the foundation be built on firm ground, and the building will prosper better. For howsoever fair pretences may for a time appear in the habit of truth, daubing up a rotten inside with a specious outside; he that sitteth in the Heavens and searcheth the hearts and reins, shall have them in derision, breaking them in pieces like a potter's vessel. Restrain then this fury or frenzy of the mind, and with timely Moderation so bound in and confine your affections, as no aspiring thought may enter that place, which is reserved for a higher place: so shall you enjoy more absolute content in restraining, than enlarging your thoughts to the motives of Ambition. Gorgeous attire, being the third assailant moving man to glory in his shame, and gallant it in his sin, is to be especially restrained, because it makes us dote upon a vessel of corruption, strutting upon earth, as if we had our eternal mansion on earth. What great folly is it to prefer the case before the instrument, or to bestow more cost upon the Sign then on the june? Me thinks the bitter remembrance of the first necessity of clothes, should make men more indifferent for them: if man had never sinned, his shame had never needed to have been covered. For sin was the cause of Adam's shame, and his shame the cause he fled unto the shade, which afforded him Fig-leaves to cover his nakedness. What vanity then, yea, what impudence to glory in these covers of shame? Would any one having committed some capital offence against his Prince; for which he is after pardoned, but on condition he shall wear a halter about his neck, become proud of his halter, and esteem it an especial badge of honour? We are all in the selfsame case; we have committed high treason against the King of heaven, yet are we received to mercy, bearing about us those Memorials of our shameful fall or defection from our King; which should in all reason rather move us to be ashamed of ourselves, Sen. Epist. 47. then to prise ourselves higher for these ornaments of shame. Sure I am, as he is a fond man that values the worth of his horse, by his sumptuous saddle or studded bridle; so he is most foolish, who estimates a man by his garment. Yet see the misery of this age! the cover of shame is become the only lustre to beautify him: but be not ye so deluded; prise the ornaments of the mind for the choicest and chiefest beauty: far be it from you to glory in this attire of sin, Visus jam est vestis non regumenti. Clem. Alex. Paedag. lib. 2. cap. 16. Chrysost. Tom. 1. Hom. these rags of shame, these worme-workes, which withdraw your eyes from contemplating that supreme bounty and beauty, purposely to fix them upon the base objects of earth, which detract much from the glory of a reasonable soul. The Swan prides not herself in her black-feets; no more should you in these Covers of your transgression, which, whensoever ye look on, may put you in mind of your first pollution. No reason then to affect these, which had man never sinned, he had never needed, being before clothed with innocency as with a garment, and with primitive purity, as with a raiment. Whence it appears, that many glory in the rags of shame, while they glory in these robes of sin: Now who, endued with reason, would pride him in that which augments his shame, or esteem that a grace which asperseth reproach on him? Nicetas saith plainly; No punishment so grievous as shame. And Nazianzen yet more expressly; Better were a man die right out, then still live in reproach and shame. Ajax being ready to dispatch himself, used these as his last words; No grief doth so cut the heart of a generous and magnanimous man, as shame and reproach. For a man to live or die, Vivere et mori naturae functio, ludibrio esse proprio ducitur. Ambros. ep. 70. is natural; but for a man to live in shame and contempt, and to be made a laughingstock of his enemies, is such a matter, as no well bred and noble minded man that hath any courage or stomach in him, can ever digest it. Delight not then in your shame, but in a decent and seemly manner affect that habit most, which becometh most; restraining that profuseness, which the vanity of this age so much exceeds in; and assuming to yourselves that attire which gives best grace to modesty, and hath nearest correspondence with Gentility. Neither is Luscious fare to be less avoided, or with less strictness restrained. Many reasons whereof might be here produced, but we will cull out the chiefest, to wean our Generous Vitellians from their excessive surfeits. Venture vitae Charybdis. Diog. apud Laert. First, dainty dishes are foments to wanton affections, begetting in the soul and unaptness to all spiritual exercises: for this is a general rule, that the body being strengthened, the soul becomes weakened: for fasting is a preparative to Devotion, but riot the Grand-master of Distraction. Look how it is in the health of the body, Chrys. Hom. 4. in Gen. Impossibile est hic implere ventrem, & ibi mentem. Hier. in Epist. and so it is in the state of the soul: if a man have a good appetite, and a stomach to his meat, it is a sign he is well in health; in like sort, if a man be content to follow Christ for the Loaves to fill his belly, and care not for the food of his soul, questionless all is not well between GOD and him; but if we have a longing and a hungering desire of the Word, than indeed his heart is upright in the sight of God. For as Saint Augustine noteth well; If the Word of GOD be taken by us, it will take us. Si sermo meus caperetur, caperet: Nam sic est sermo Die, & sic esse debet fidelibus, sicut pisci hamus; tum capit quando capitur, nec sit captis injuria; ad salutem enim, non ad perniciem capiuntur. Aug. Tract. 42. in johan. Aug. in l. Confes. Blos. Collyr. Haeret. Gregor. in Mor. exposit. in job. Qui per annos plurimos tecum familiariter vixit, ad mensam tuam sedit, cibum de manu tua sumpsit, in ●inutu● dormivit: cum voluit, tecum colloquium habuit, hic jure haereditario servustum est. Bernard. Aristot. de Historia animalium. lib. 6. c. 9 Lucretius l. 6. Oppianus l. 2. de venatione. Non cervus fluvios sic avet algidos, Cervus, turb● canum quem premit, &c. Buchan. in Psal. 42. Ebrio sus confundit naturam, emittit gratiam, perdit gloriam, incurrit damnationem aeternam. Ambros. l. de poenit. Dum absorbent vinum, absorbentur ● vino. Vt cautes, evitemus calices, ni in ore nauseam, in ment naufr●gium sentiamus. But what means may be used to procure this longing and hungering desire in us? Not Luscious or curious fare; for that will move us rather to all inordinate motions, than the exercise of Devotion: no, it is fasting that makes the soul to be feasting; it is macerating of the flesh, that fattens the spirit. For it is sumptuous fare, that is the soul's snare: Sagina corporis, Sagena cordis: It is the net which entangles the heart of man, drawing her from the love of her best beloved Spouse, to dote on the adulterate embraces of sensual beauty. Neither is it fare, but delight in fare; not simply the meat, but the desire or liquorish appetite, which produceth those odious effects: as for example, when the loose affected man maketh choice or election of such meats, purposely to beget in him an ability, as well as desire, to his sensual pleasures. Whence a learned Father most divinely concludeth: I fear not (saith he) the uncleanness of meats in respect of their difference, but uncleanness of desire in respect of concupiscence. Neither doth the kind or difference of the meat (saith another) pollute so much, as the act of disobedience, eating that which is inhibited. Now to propose a rule of direction; not any one surer or safer can be set down, than what an ancient Father hath already proposed. We nourish our bodies (saith he) lest by being too much weakened, they fail us; and we weaken them by abstinence, lest by too much feeding them, they press us. So then, temper your desires, that neither too much restraint may enfeeble them, nor excess surcharge them. For as the body being weakened, the soul becomes strengthened; so where the body becomes too much enfeebled, the performance of spiritual exercises is disabled: but in all things, take heed of pampering a disobedient servant; he sleeps in your bosom, that imagines mischief against you. Who, the more he is fostered, the more is your danger furthered: the more he is cockered, the more is your heat of devotion cooled: chastise then this domestic enemy in time, for he participates of the nature of a Serpent, who spreads most his poison, where he receives harbouring. Now as the Philosophers observe of the Hart, that being pursued by dogs in hunting, by reason of heat, and loss of breath, being tired with the chase, he hasteneth to the Rivers; or wearied in fight with a Serpent, or stung, or wounded by him, while the Serpent resteth on the the ground, he seeketh to some cold Fountain, whereby the affection of the venom received, may be abated, and his former vigour restored. Even so, such as are wounded, and strucken of the old Serpent, must have recourse to Christ, that Fountain of living waters, that all sensual desires arising from excessive delight in delicious fare, may be the better allayed. Neither only is restraint to be used in the choice, and change of meats, but in the excessive use of drinks. The reasons are two; the one is, it is an enemy to the knowledge of God; the other is this, it is held to be an enfeebler or impairer of the memorative parts; for you shall ever note that deep drinkers have but shallow memories. Their common saying is, Let us drown care in healths: which drowning of care makes them so forgetful of themselves, as carried away with a brutish appetite, they only intent their present delight, without reflection to what is past, or due preparation to what may succeed. O restrain then this mighty assailant of Temperance! Be ever yourselves; but principally stand upon your guard, when occasion of company shall induce you; being the last we are to speak of. Pestis non saeviùs grassatur in urbe, quam Ebrietas in cord. This Company-keeping, how much it hath depraved the hopefullest and towardliest wits, daily experience can witness. For many we see civilly affected, and temperately disposed of themselves not subject to those violent or brainsick passions, which the fumes of drink beget; till out of a too pliable disposition they enter the lists of Good fellowship (as they commonly term it) and so become estranged from their own nature, to partake with Zanies in their distempered humour. So as in time, by consorting with evil men, they become exposed to all immoderate affections; such is the strength of custom. Whence it is, that Saint Basil saith, Basil. Passions rise up in a drunken man (note the violence of this distemper) like a swarm of Bees buzzing on every side. Now you shall see him compassionately passionate, resolving his humour into tears; anon like a frantic man, exercising himself in blows; presently, as if a calmer or more peaceable humour had seized on him, he expresseth his loving nature in congees and kisses. So different are the affections which this valiant Maltworm is subject to; yet howsoever, out of a desperate Bravado he bind it with oaths, that he will stand to his tackling, he is scarce to be credited, for he can stand on no ground. But to annex some reasons which may effectually dissuade every generous-affected spirit from consorting with such * Amongst which consorts of death, if at any time it be your fortune to encounter with these civil city foists whose Cheats are their Chequer, timely discard them, lest untimely experience make you distaste them. Run with the Roe unto the Rose; The Roe must win, the Rook must lose: For Northern Rooks are little worth, Compared with those the South brings forth. Senec de tran. anim. Bernard. August. Emissenus. Stultum est servire diabolo offenso, qui nullo placatur obsequio. Greg. Sociats as are a blemish to a Gentleman; imagine with yourselves, how mortally dangerous it is to enter an infected house; how fearful would any one be of the state of his body, if he should have one in his company who had the carbuncle or plague-sore running upon him? how much would he condemn his own rashness to entertain any such in his company? and with what respect or cautelous advice would he prepare to expel the poison of that infection, at least to prevent the occasion? no cost might be spared, no care intermitted, that some sovereign, receipt might be procured, whereby the apparent danger, into which his inconsiderate rashness had brought him might be removed. Now if our bodies, being but the covers of more curious and exquisite instruments, be so especially tendered, with what respect ought we to provide for the safety or security of our souls? The ground of a disease is to mix the sound with the sick: now the soul's disease is sin, wherewith she laboureth more painfully than the body can do, being annoyed with any infirmity. Those that are sick, are vicious men, whose disease though it be insensible, and in that less curable it breaks out into loathsome ulcers, which stain the pristine beauty of the soul. Now as we serve so many vices, we serve so many masters; and so many masters, so many devils, each one having so many devils, as evils. Which miserable servitude to prevent (for no slavery is base than the service of sin) the best and soveraignest receipt that may be applied or ministered to the soul-sick patient is the receipt of adversion; to turn aside from the ways of the wicked, and to keep no company with the transgressor: for this adversion from the companions of sin, is a conversion to the God of Zion. Would you then have God turn to you? turn you from your sins. Would you be at one with your Maker? be ever divided from these sensual mates, so shall you be made happy by the company of your Maker. Would you be sound at heart? leave to consort with these of an uncircumcised heart, whose paths lead to perdition, and they that walk therein shall be the heirs of shame. For howsoever these instruments of sin (as I have sometimes observed) may make a show of godliness, or pretend, merely under colour to give a varnish to their vicious lives, and a semblance of goodness; yet it is but mere painting they deal with; they deny the power thereof in their life and conversation. A ridiculous Actor in the City of Smyrna, pronouncing, O co●lum! O heaven! pointed with his finger toward the ground: which when Polemo the chiefest man in the place saw, he could abide to stay no longer, but went from the company in a chase, 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉. saying: This fool hath made a Solecism with his hand: he hath spoken false Latin with his hand. Such ridiculous Actors are these time-spenders; they pronounce heaven with their mouth, but point at earth with their lives; like wise Polemons therefore stay no longer with them, if at any time you have consorted with them; for their practice is only to gull the world, and with smooth pretences delude their unhappy consorts. Their profession is how to play the hypocrite Christian, but being unmasked, their odious Physnomies are quickly discovered. Make use therefore of your experience, and with all Temperance so counterpoise the weight of your passions, as none of these assailants (though their incursions be never so violent) may ever surprise the glorious fortress of your mind. Which the better to effect, let Lust, be counterpoized by continence; Ambition by humbleness; gorgeous Apparel by comeliness; luscious fare by abstinence, and company-keeping by that sweet seasoner of all virtues, Temperance. Thus you have heard, how as without salt there can be no seasoning, no war without discipline, no tillage without manuring, no estate without managing, no building without a foundation; so no virtue can subsist without Moderation. AS we have hitherto expressed the dignity or sufficiency of this virtue, in that it giveth subsistence to all other virtues: so are we now to entreat of the ampleness of it, Wherein Moderation is to be used. proposing such subjects wherein it is principally said to be conversant. Now, though there be no humane action which is not subject to many defects, being not throughly seasoned by this exquisite virtue, yet the use thereof may be reduced to these two, as proper subjects wherein it is to be exercised; expense of coin, and expense of time: for without moderation in the one, we should be prodigal of our substance: without moderation in the other, we should grow too profuse in the expense of that, Au●um horamque petunt, petendo perdunt perdende pereunt. Expense of Coin. which is more precious than any earthly substance. Now touching worldly substance, as we are to be indifferent for the loss or possession of it, so ought we to to careful in the use or dispensation of it. As it is not to be admired when we possess it, no more is it to be altogether dis-esteemed, because we stand in need of the use of it. If money be so much to be contemned, (saith an ancient Father) express thy bounty, Tertul. instit. lib. 3. cap. 23. show thy humanity, bestow it upon the poor: so may this, which of necessity thou must lose, relieve many, which otherwise might perish by hunger, thirst, or nakedness. Thus to bestow it, were not prodigally to spend it, but to lay it up in a safer Treasuris, even in Christ's almes-boxe, to the disbursers great advantage. Yea, but you will object you have other means to employ it in; you have a family to support, a posterity to provide for, a state to maintain, and pleasures suiting with your rank and quality to uphold: I grant it, and you do well in having a care to your family, for he is worse than an Infidel that wants this care. It is commendable likewise in you to have an eye to your posterity, for Nature requires this at your hand. To maintain likewise your state, and to continue your pleasures suiting with men of your rank; I allow it. But where, or in what sort must this be done? For the place where, surely none fitter than your own country where you were bred; setting up there your rest, where you received your birth; Let your country (I say) enjoy you who bred you; showing there your hospitality, where God hath placed you, This is excellently seconded by a Princely pen, in a pithy poem directed to all persons of rank or quality to leave the Court and return into their own Country. and with sufficient means blessed you. I do not approve of these, who fly from their Country, as if they were ashamed of her, or had committed something unworthy of her. How blame-worthy then are these Court-comets, whose only delight is to admire themselves? These, no sooner have their bedrid fathers betaken themselves to their last home, and removed from their crazy couch, but they are ready to sell a Manor for a Coach. They will not take it as their fathers took it: their Country houses must be barred up, left the poor passenger should expect what is impossible to find, relief to his want, or a supply to his necessity. No, the cage is opened, and all the birds are fled; not one crumb of comfort remaining to succour a distressed poor one. Hospitality, which was once a relic of Gentry, and a known cognizance to all ancient houses hath lost her title, merely through discontinuance: and great houses, which were at first founded to relieve the poor, and such needful passengers as traveled by them, are now of no use but only as Way-markes to direct them. But whither are these Great ones gone? To the Court; there to spend in boundless and immoderate riot, what their provident Ancestors had so long preserved, and at whose doors so many needy souls have been comfortably relieved. Yet see the misery of many of those rioters! Though they consume their means, yet is the port they live at mean: for they have abridged their family, reduced their attendants to a small number, and (unnecessary expenses set aside) drawn themselves to within as narrow a compass as possibly they may. For to take a view of those which are in ordinary roll; you shall find none but a Page, a Coachman, a Lackey, and perchance a Cook. If the veils of the house will maintain one, The rich retinue of a rare rioter. or they be not in fee with some City-Cooke, whom they usually repair to, at best betrust, and so run on score quarterly. Now if you ask me, how their means should be consumed, when they live at so low commons; my answer is, the less they bestow on their Caterer, the more they bestow on their Tailor. They cut it out of the whole cloth, and divide their acres piecemeal into shreds. Where their fantastic light-ones resort oftener to the house of the body-maker than the soule-maker: affecting nothing more than what may make them most noted. But observe the issue of these courses, Gentlemen; when they have maintained their riot with much expense, and engaged their means to these great moneyed men, whose jubilee it is to entertain acquaintance with one of these green wits, they run upon the shelf of ruin, and make their posterity the heirs of want. Which having incurred, what distracted and divided sleeps, what distempered thoughts, Relata ad se magnitudine aeris aticujus, quam quidam Eques Romanus dum vixit celaverat, culcitram emi cubicularem sib●●ussit: et praeceptum mitantibus hanc rationem reddidit; Habenda est ad somnum culcitra, in qu● ille cumtantum deberet, dormire potuit. Macrob. Saturn. l. 2. c. 4. what hourly afflictions may we imagine them to be subject to? For what engagement worse than debt, when every shadow resembles a Sergeant, every familiar touch or stroke of a friend, an arrest of an Officer? Augustus Caesar, hearing of them talk in his Court, what a huge sum of money a certain Knight in Rome owed at his death, and that all his goods were to be sold, to make payment of his debts, commanded the Master of his Wardrobe to buy for him that bed, wherein this Knight used to lie: For, says he, if I cannot sleep sound in that bed wherein he could sleep, that owed so much, then surely I shall sleep in n●ne. Surely, there is no affliction greater to a Noble Spirit, whose thoughts cannot endure engagement, then to be subject to the extremity of an unconscionable Creditor, who usually makes advantages his revenues, and forfeitures the inhauncers of his fortunes. Neither is this respect to be had only in the disposing of yourselves in Court or City, but likewise in the Country: for though it be best spent, which is bestowed in Hospitality, and in relieving those hungry souls, whose express images require your charity; yet are you to consider how charity begins with itself: so as, howsoever you are bound to relieve and support those, whose present wants exact so much at your hands, yet ever with reservancy of a competent or convenient providence, so to sustain the want of others, as not to procure want to yourselves by sustaining others. But this needs little pressing: for experience shows, that very small instruction will suffice any one to be provident enough in their bounty or exhibition to the poor. Let us therefore divert the current of our subject, and address our exhortation to you; purposely moving you to a moderation of your expense in your pleasures, or those more easy vanities of this life. As profit and pleasure make the sweetest Music, so there is no pleasure, how incomparably delightful soever for the present, but it affords much bitterness, Frugal men being rightly styled, 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉. Tusc. l. 3. having no respect to Providence. Now, as all virtues may be comprised under the name of frugality, provided that we understand it to be of that absolute power and command, that neither excess nor diminution bear any sway in it, it appeareth that without this frugal moderation no state can be well managed, no estate rightly husbanded; so as, whether you have an eye to pleasure or profit, this frugality or equally tempered providence must be Sovereigness in both. For first, there is no pleasure which hath not respect to virtue: how then may that properly be termed a pleasure, which hath no relation to frugality, under which name all virtues may seem to be comprised? Likewise, there is no profit which is not joined with honesty, how then may that properly be termed a profit, which hath no respect to honest providence, upon which all profits are truly grounded? The best course than that you can follow, either in your choice of pleasures, or pursuit of profit, is ever to examine whether that pleasure which you affect, have respect to virtue, or that profit which you have in pursuit, be firmly grounded on honest providence: so shall neither pleasure so much enthral you, as to engage your fortunes to her, nor profit so entangle you, as to neglect conscience for the love you bear her. Surely, there is nought more dangerous to young Gentlemen, whose unriper years have not sufficiently instructed them in the follies of vanity, then to give reins to their desires, and so become Bondslaves to pleasure. For those that will deny their eyes nothing that they can desire, nor resist their own wills in aught that they affect, be they endued with never so much wisdom, it becomes foolishness, being blinded with their own delights. They then only, whose native temperance hath prepared them, or continual wrestling with the infirmities of nature hath enured them, have attained this degree of perfection; not only (I say) to use Moderation in their expense, but in their restraint of every pleasure; labouring to become commanders of themselves in the desires and affections of this life: which of all others make men the absolutest conquerors. For man, whose natural pravity, drawn from the corruption of his first parents, is ever working in him new motions of disobedience; layeth continual siege and battery to the fortress of the soul, suggesting to her motives of pleasure and delight, which the carnal man will easily condescend to, because he savoureth not the things of the spirit. Yea, how many do we see, who begin in the spirit, but end in the flesh, making their end far worse than their beginning? How necessary then is this Moderation, to curb or check such inordinate motions as arise in us, by reason of our natural infirmity and weakness? Neither do I so much insist upon the Moderation of your expenses, as if Coin were of that esteem, as it only deserved respect. For if Riches increase, we are not to set our hearts upon them; but rather to show our indifferency towards them in our free and liberal use of them. But he who gave gifts before he gave time, Dona prius quam tempora dedit. creating all things for our use in the world, before he brought us into the world, without the use or ministry of these could preserve and support us, whom he hath appointed as governor's or rulers over all these: for he who created all things without means, can likewise preserve those things which he hath created without means. Yea, though he hath given us the fruits of the earth to feed us, Datur etiam vermibus nere è visceribus, accuratiorem cultum praebere hominibus. Vid. Pet. Mart. the fells of beasts to clothe us, yea, works out of the bowels of worms to beautify us; yet is he tied no more to these exterior means, than he was before, creating all things without means. No King is necessarily tied, that only pure Bullion should be current among his Subjects, for if occasion serve, he may stamp Leather, Brass, or any other metal, which being authorized by his image or superscription, is not to be denied within his Dominions. Much more he, who contains the world in his fist, restrains not his power to any outward means, working sometimes with means, sometimes without means, sometimes against means, sometimes above means. With means, as when he fed those which followed him into the wilderness with bread; above means, when he fed so much people with so little bread; without means, when he himself fasted so long without bread; against means, when he caused the very Ravens to bring his Prophet bread. No, this exhortation rather tendeth to move you to rely on God's providence, yet withal not to abuse those creatures which he hath bestowed on you, but to use them with Temperance, Sobriety, and Moderation: for what is it to abound in all riches, surfeit in pleasures, enjoy the treasures of the whole earth, yea to want nothing that either the eye can desire, or the heart affect? Surely nothing. * Qui totum orbem possederit, ne in orbe Sepulchrum in venire poterit. Quò cumuli gazae, si desint ossibus urnae? Eosdem penates habuit & regiam, & rogum, & sepulchrum. Valer. Max. de Tull. Hostil. Alexander, the Monarch of the world, had all other things save only a Sepulchre to bury him in, when he was dead; he never thought of that: for alas, when corruption shall receive what Mortality renders, and man after so many days passed over in delights, shall make his bed in the dark, those perfunctory pleasures, which he so much affected, those temporary blessings which he enjoyed, shall be as if they had not been. So moderate therefore your expenses in the use or dispensation of your earthly Mammon, that it may appear, your hearts are where your Treasure is, and your Treasure where your heavenly Master is: for what is this world, but a List environed with fearful Combats? So as the world is more to be feared when it smileth, Ambros. than when it frowneth; Aug. Epist. 144. and more to be taken heed of, when it allures us to love it, then when it moves or induceth us to contemn it. Howsoever, they who embrace the world are like unto them, who are drowned in waters; for their minds are so drenched in the depth of worldly affections, Bernard. de Adventu serm. 1. August. in Med▪ cap. 9 and so entangled by the reeds and oaze of earthly vanities, as they are divided from the Sailor's Star, and the Haven of the shipwrecked soul, being miserably forced to grope in darkness, without a light to direct them; and to remain woefully shelfed, being far from sight of heaven to receive them. And let this suffice to have been spoken touching Moderation in your expense of coin; I mean, your frugal dispensation of such estates, as God hath blessed you withal; ever remembering that you must give account of your Talon; not only (I say) of your Talon of knowledge, but of that Talon of Substance, whereof in this life you were possessed. And so I descend to your Expense of time, that precious Treasure which is incomparably to be valued above all that we enjoy; because it affords a respite of using or employing, whatsoever we enjoy. TIme is so absolute and sovereign a Regent, as he is all-commanding, but not to be countermanded; Expense of time. whence we commonly say, Time and Tide stayeth for no man. There is nothing undertaken by man, which can be effected without the attendance and graceful assistance of Time. Neither can experience be gained, nor Truth, the Daughter of Time discovered, nor the issue of any man's expectance attained, nor any thing worthy observance produced, Eucheriars▪ Nil preciosius tempore, & heu nil bodiè eo vili●s i●venitur: transeunt dies salutis & nemo cogitas. Bern. unless Time further it. There is nothing of consequence, that can be done at an instant: great Tasks require long Time; neither can we limit Time, but Time will limit us: whence it appears, that nothing can be intended, much less affected, unless Time assist and second it. Time being thus precious, we must of necessity value it above any inferior Substance, seeing without the company of Time, we are wholly deprived of the use of our Substance. Whence it was that a friend of mine caused these two verses to be set directly before his Table of accounts; If Coins expense be such, pray then Divine How rare and precious is th' expense of Time? Now there be three sorts of persons, with whom I am to encounter by way of admonishment, for their abuse or careless expense of Time; the Ambitious, Voluptuous, and miserable covetous person. For the first, he trifles away Time, in the pursuit of impossibilities, spending his means, and misspending Time, in hope of a day; which day he seldom or never sees, for his Time is abridged before it come: So as the date of his death anticipates the day of his hopes. Now to point out the place of his abode; he is ever to be found in the eminentest places, for obscurity fits not his humour, whose only aims are to acquire honour. He is so far from moderating his humour, as he is humorously conceited of his worth, and thinks whatsoever the Parasite says in his commendations, to be no less than what he in his own proper person deserves. For his Contemplations, they are ever mounting, yet seldom so high mounting as heaven, for his thoughts are directed to another Sphere. He is prodigal in his feasts, solicitous in the pursuit of friends, impatient in the quest of rivals, and importunate in the dispatch of his affairs: and though it be a greater reproach to lose what is got, Majus dedecus est, parta amittere, quam non omninò paravisse. Sallust. than not at all to get; yet his aim is to get, though he foresee his loss before he get: and though the least liberty be apportioned to the greatest fortune, yet in his highest fortunes will he use the greatest liberty: the reason his, he conceits himself to walk in a Cloud, where no popular eye can reach him. He is unmeasurably opinionate, and admires his own knowledge, wherein he discovers his own folly: for as he that seeks to be more wise than he can be, shall be found to be less wise than he should be; so he who conceits himself more wise than he is, displays himself to the world what he is. So as it seems, he differs in opinion from the Poet; who holds this as a maxim: Martial. l. 14. He's solely wise, who is not selfely selfely wise, But humble in the judgement of his eyes. Now his daily Tasks may be aptly compared to Domitian's sports, who spent the whole day in catching Flies. Sext. Aurel. in Domit. For those many projects which he hath devised, those impossible aims he hath contrived, those airy Turrets he hath reared, fall in the end to nothing; and like those misty conclusions of the deluded Alchemist, bewray the folly of him that form them. Ne quid usquam honesti oculis occurreret. Vid. Tacit. And as Domitian grew ashamed of his own impieties, exiling all Arts, lest the knowledge of them should bring him to a discovery of himself: so the ambitious man, whose aims are as boundless, as his purposes fruitless, when his eyes begin to be unsealed, and those scales of ambition, which hindered his sight, removed, he will then (if then be not too late) acknowledge his shame, and ingenuously confess, that his unbounded aims deserved no better guerdon; quam quisque pessimè fecit, tam maximè ltutus est, Sa●ust. for had his actions been sincere, they had made him more secure. Likewise for the Voluptuous man, whose belly is his god, and sensuality his delight, let me speak thus much: as his care extends but only to the day, slaving himself to the pleasures of sin, and preferring the husks of vanity, before the soul solacing cates of eternity: so shall his misery appear greater, when deprived of those delights, wherein his sole felicity consisted. This fleshly Libertine mis-imployeth Time in two respects; first, in respect of himself; secondly, in respect of those good creatures which were ordained for the use or service of himself. In himself, by exposing so glorious an Image to the subjection of sense, and mis-applying those gifts which he hath received, being diverted from those good offices, for which they were bestowed. In God's good creatures, by converting them to abuse, which were only ordained for use; and turning them to wantonness, which were created for health and relief of weakness. This is he, who makes life a merriment, his pilgrimage a pastime, each year his jubilee. This is he, who turns fasting into feasting, praying into playing, almsdeeds into all mis-deeds. This is he whose sole delight is in dainty feeding, to cause inordinate motions to be stirring, without least respect at all of his souls starving. Cujus cupe diae, fercula in actu, cujus januae carceres mendici. This is he, whose dishes are the poor man's curses, and whose gate is the beggar's Gaol, where they are barred from the least crumb of comfort. This is he, who walks and struts in the street; sends forth his eye to bring him in a booty of Lust, or acquaint him with some new fashion, or delight him with some vain show. This is he, who sends forth his ear, to convey unto him some choice melody to entrance him; his taste, with some luscious viands to provoke him; his smell, with some rare perfumes to cheer him; his tooth, with soft clothing, or whatsoever may more effeminately move him. But whereto shall these outward delights avail him, when the cold earth shall entertain him, when he shall be divided from them, and they from him? When Belshazzer beheld the hand upon the wall, Dan. 5.6. he was put quite out of his humour of jollity; his cheerfulness was turned into pensiveness, his mirth into mourning, his solace into sorrowing. Even so shall it fare with the Voluptuous man, whose delight was only on earth; when that fearful and ungrateful summons shall peremptorily enjoin him to bid adieu (a long adieu) to those sensual consorts which accompanied him, those inordinate meetings which so much delighted him, yea, all those licentious pleasures which so inchained him; he will exclaim (but in vain shall be those exclamations) and curse the occasions of his misspent Time. O what a hard task would he endure, to redeem what his security hath lost? What extremities would he suffer? what difficulties undergo? How great and exceeding things would he promise? In what bonds of firm devotion would he stand engaged? Fet. Dam. de borâ mortis Surely there is nothing that either flesh could sustain, or Mortality suffer, which he would not most willingly endure, to deliver his endangred soul from eternal torments. Last, for the miserable Covetous wretch, who makes great use of his Coin, but small use of his Time, treasuring up vengeance against the day of wrath; how careful is he in making his barns larger, in filling his chests fuller, in enhancing his rents higher; but how respectless of that supreme good, wherein all happiness consisteth? See, how Menedemus-like, Sic mihi divitias, famuli patiendo labores, Nec minorest domino servus in aere suo. Eccles. 4.8. utinam invidi oculos baberent in omnibus locis, ut de omnibus foelicitatibus torquerentur: Nam quanta sunt faelicium gaudia, tanti invidorum sunt gemitus. Seneca. he is ever digging and delving to raise a fortune for his seldome-thriving posterity. Thus lives he to become an eternal affliction to himself; in whose person the Poet very properly expressed a Miser's nature after this manner; Thus do I dig, thus do I delve t'enrich my state thereby, Yet th'poorest slave of all I have, enjoys as much as I. This was one of those vanities which the wisest of Princes observed, as incident to the children of men, that many gathered, yet knew not for whom they gathered, having likewise no power to use what God had in his mercy bestowed. Now to give this miserable Caitiff his due Character: He is his own executioner, being good to none, but worst to himself. His eye is so fixed on earth, as he finds no Time to erect it to heaven. He employs so much time in getting and gathering goods, as he reserves no time for doing good. He little observes how all earthly things are sweeter in the ambition, then in the fruition; in the affection, than possession. Nor how the circular World cannot fill the triangular Heart, no more than a Circle can fill a Triangle; where still there will be some empty corners. He runs on still in desire, labouring of a disease incurable, till death cure him. He increaseth his cares with his substance, and the more he adds to his estate, the more he detracts from his content: The poor he hath always with him, for he makes all poor that deal with him. In brief, he is of all others most miserable, because in his riches he hath all his consolation: which like the Egyptian reed, will fail him in his confidence, leaving him bare and naked to the testimony of a guilty conscience. Luke 12.19. For how secure was the Richman (as he thought) when he invited his wretched soul to take her rest, having much goods laid up for many years; but this self security was the occasion of his succeeding misery; for that night was his soul to be taken from him. It is a true saying, 20. that the Devil requires nothing of man but Security, for that gives him opportunity of practising his undoing. Now, how bitter is the remembrance of Death, much more the unwelcome approach of Death to this miserable covetous man, who hath all his peace in his substance? For if nothing be so terrible as Death (as Aristotle writeth:) which Antiochus feeling sensibly in himself, 1. Mac. 6.11. crieth out thus; Oh into what adversity am I come, and into what floods of misery am I now fallen? He addeth the reason anon after; For I must die with great sorrow in a strange Land. 13. Surely then, to the miserable worldling, who hath made a covenant with sin, and a league with transgression, must the approach of Death seem terrible, being to be divided from the staff of his confidence, from thence to descend without least hope of comfort to the land of forgetfulness: for, Fieri non potest ut malè moriatur, qui benè vixerit. Blos. Enchirid. parvul. author. Non potest malè mori qui bene vixerit, & vix bene moritur qui malè vixerit. Aug. de discip. Christiana. Moderation of the Passions of the mind reduced to two Subjects. as it cannot possibly be, that he should die ill, who hath lived well; so it cannot be, that he who hath lived ill, should die well: for as the Scorpion hath in her the remedy of her own poison a receipt for her own infection; so the evil man carrieth always with him the punishment of his own wickedness, the which doth never leave (so incessant is the torment of a guilty conscience) to wound and afflict his mind, both sleeping and waking: so as to what place so ever he betake him, he cannot so privately retire, but fear and horror will awake him; nor fly so fast, though he should take the wings of the morning, but fury and vengeance will overtake him. Having thus far proceeded in the treating of such subjects, wherein Temperance is required, and of such assailants, by whom she is usually encountered and impugned: it rests now, that I impart my advice briefly touching Temperance or Moderation of the Passions of the mind, whereof (omitting the rest, as having elsewhere discoursed of them) I will only, and that briefly, insist of these two, the passions of joy and Sorrow. This passion (to insist on joy first) requires direction, to order our desires aright in the matter joy.. Every man loves a glad heart; and wisheth joy, joy.. as the fruit of his labours; but therein many mistake. First, one rejoiceth in his Substance, job. 31.25. Hester. 5.11. Eccles. 2.2. Dan. 5.1.2, 3. &c, job 31.29. Prov. 10. 2●. he hath gotten much. Secondly, another rejoiceth in his Promotion. Thirdly, another doteth upon that mad mirth which Solomon speaks of. Fourthly, another rejoiceth in a Table richly decked, an overflowing cup, a faring deliciously every day. Fifthly, another rejoiceth at the destruction of him, whom he hates. Sixthly, another rejoiceth in sin, and wickedness. It is a pastime to a fool to do wickedly. It is the Drunkard's joy to be at the cup early, and to sit till the wine hath inflamed them. The twilight glads the heart of the Adulterer. The Oppressor danceth upon the threshold of him that is oppressed. Esay 5.11. job. 24. 1●. Zeph. 1.9. Gen 21.9. job. 17.6. Psal. 69.12. Ishmael geereth at Isaac. Holy job was as a Tabret to the godless ones; and the Drunkards made songs on David. But this is not that joy which is required, because the foundation of this joy is grounded on sin: wherefore we are to find a joy more pure, more permanent: for the joy of the wicked is short, but the joy of the righteous shall endure for ever. This joy which we are to seek, and whereon we are to ground our sole content, is no carnal but a spiritual joy: the joy of our hearts, the divine Melody of our souls, conclude with the blessed Apostle; GOD forbid that we should rejoice in any thing, but in the Cross of Christ, and him crucified: For in this did all the Saints and servants of God joy, disvaluing all other joy, as unworthy the entertainment of the soul. We are to rejoice likewise, for as much as God hath called us not to uncleanness, 1 Thes. 4.7. but unto holiness. We are to rejoice in the testimony of a good conscience, being that continual feast which refresheth every faithful guest. We are to rejoice in our brother's aversion from sin, and conversion to God; in his prosperity and success in his affairs of state. But above all things we are so to moderate our joy in the whole progress of our life, that our joy may the more abound in him, who is the crown of our hope after this life. The like directions are required in our moderation of sorrow: Sorrow. for there is a sorrow unto death; which to prevent, understand this by the way, that not so much the passion, 2 Sam. 13.2. as the occasion enforcing the passion, is to be taken heed of. Sorrow we may, but not as Ammon did, till he had deflowered Thamar, 1 Kin. 21.4. Gen. 37.11. for that was the sorrow of licentiousness: Sorrow we may, but not as Ahab did, till he had got Naboths vineyard, for that was the sorrow of covetousness: Sorrow we may, but not as Joseph's brethren did, grieving that their father should love him more than them, for that was the sorrow of maliciousness. Sorrow we may, but not as jonah did, jonah 4.1. grieving that the Ninivites were not destroyed, for that was the sorrow of unmercifulness. Lastly, sorrow we may, but not as the * Or Gederans. joseph. li. 17. c. 13. Matth. 8.34. Quò quisque sanctior, eò ejus in orando fletus uberio●. Aug. Gergesenes did, grieving for the loss of their swine, for that was the sorrow of worldliness. These sorrows are not so much to be moderated as wholly abolished, because they are grounded on sin: but there is a religious and godly sorrow, which, though it afflict the body, it refresheth the spirit; though it fill the heart with heaviness, it crowneth the soul with happiness. And this is not a sorrow unto sin, but a sorrow for sin: not a sorrow unto death, but a sorrow to cure the wound of death. By how much any one (saith a good Father,) is holier, by so much in prayer are his tears plentifuller. Here sounds the Surdon of religious sorrow, the awaker of devotion, the begetter of spiritual compunction, and the sealer of heavenly consolation; Via est incipientibus: veritas est proficientibus: & vita perfectis. Tho. à Campis in solileq. animae c. 12. being the way to those that begin; truth to those that profit, and life to them that are perfect. But alas, the natural man (saith the Apostle) perceiveth not the things of the spirit of God; for they are foolishness unto him, neither can he know them, because they are spiritually discerned. It is true; and this should move us to more fervour of devotion, beseeching the divine assistance to minister strength to our weakness, that what is wanting in the flesh, may be supplied by the spirit; 1 Cor. 2.14. yea daily to set an hourglass beside us, and observe those precious grains (the minute treasures of time) how swiftly they run thorough the Cruet, whereof not one must fall unnumbered: for as a hair of the head shall not perish, no more shall the least moment of time. Now how healthful were it (though the carnal man distaste it) to vie tears with grains of sand; Bernard. that our sins, being as the Sands of the Seashore, that is, numberless, might be bound up and thrown into the deep Sea of eternal forgetfulness: so as they may neither rise up in this life to shame us, nor in the world to come to condemn us. Surely if you would know those blessed fruits which true penitent sorrow produceth, you shall find that He who sows in tears, shall reap in joy: Neither can any one go to heaven with dry eyes. May your tears be so shed on earth, that they may be bottled in heaven; so shall you bring your sheaves with you; and, like fine flower, being bolted from the bran of corruption, receive your portion in the land of the living. And may this Sacrifice of tears which you offer up unto him, whose eyes are upon all the ways of the children of men, minister like comfort to your souls, as they have done to many faithful members of Christ's Church. And let this suffice to have been spoken of such Subjects, wherein Moderation is to be used: for to speak of Moderation of sorrow for sin, I hold it little necessary, seeing most men (so insensible are they of their inward wounds) come rather short of that sorrow which is required, then exceed in any sort the measure that is prescribed. AS Moderation in all the precedent subjects is to be used, so in all and every of them is it to be limited; Wherein Moderation is to be limited. for to be so Stoically affected (as we have formerly noted) as not to entertain so much as modest mirth, or approve of the temperate and moderate use of those things, which were at first ordained for the use and service of man, digressing as far from the rule of Moderation in restraint, as the profusely minded Libertine doth in excess. How hard a thing is it then to observe with indifferency an equal or direct course herein, when either by leaping short or over, we are subject to error? So saith blessed Cranmer; Some lose their game by short shooting, some by overshooting: some walk too much on the left hand, some too much on the right hand. Now to propose what form of direction is best to be observed herein: we will take a view of those Subjects, whereof we formerly treated, and set down in each of them what Moderation is to be used. All waters are derived from three ways or currents: springing either by fountains and spring-heads, from the bowels of the earth inwardly drained; by rivers and conduits, from those fountains derived: or hail and snow from the earth extracted; where some ascend, some descend: so passions are three ways moved in our bodies; by humours arising out of our bodies; by external senses, and the secret passage of sensual objects; or by the descent or commandment of reason. Now to insist on the motion or effect of each passion, we shall not greatly need, having sufficiently touched them in our former discourse: we will therefore upon a review of those several subjects, Lust, Ambition, Gorgeous apparel, Luscious fare, Company-keeping, etc. reduce them and the occasion of them to those three troubled Springs, from whence miserable man, by means of the immoderate appetite of sense, sucks the baneful poison of sin; The Concupiscence of the Flesh, the Concupiscence of the eyes, and the Pride of life: for whatsoever is in the world (as a good Father noteth, and as the blessed Apostle himself affirmeth) is one of these: Aug. Solileq. cap. 12. 1 john 2.16. Concupiscence of the flesh. As first, whatsoever suiteth or sorteth with the desire or delicacy of the flesh, ministers fuel or matter to feed the Concupiscence thereof. Now this fleshly Libertine takes no delight in the Spirit, but in the Flesh; he loves to be clothed in purple and fare deliciously every day; he loves to be clothed in purple and fare deliciously every day; he loves to keep company with those consorts of ruin and misery, who drink till they be inflamed, and delight themselves in the pleasures of sin. Secondly, whatsoever relisheth of vanity, ministers him objects of content, to feed the unsatiate concupiscene of his eyes: Gen. 34.1. which eyes like Dinah, stray from him, fixing themselves upon some vain object, which suits ever best with his choice, who owes them, and so conveys some present but perfunctory delight unto him. As if he be covetous, they show him Naboth's vineyard; 1 King. 21.2. 2 Sam. 11.2. judith 16.11. Gen. 25.30. if wanton, a beauteous Bersheba, or the sandals of judith, which ravished the eyes of Holophornes; if dainty-toothed, Jacob's red pottage; if proud the silks of Tyre; in brief they fit every one with an object according to his condition. Lastly, whatsoever may minister content to the proud and highminded man, who walks upon his Turrets, saying, Is not this great Babel which I have builded? Dan. 4.27. Esther 7.10. Dan. 5.1. Dan. 5.30. Acts. 12.22. is suggested to him; putting him in mind of Hamans' honour, but never of Hamans' Ladder; telling him of Balthazars birthday, whereon he feasted royally, but never of his last day, whereon he died fearfully; showing him Herod's garment which shone as the Sun, and of his applause, The voice of God and not of man; Qui modo immortalis vocabar, etc. Euseb. but never of the eclipse of that sun, when he became so loathsome as his smell could be endured by no man. Now to propose our rules of limitation in the Moderation of these: As we are commanded to subdue the flesh with those inordinate affections, which arise from the infirmity thereof; so are we not enjoined to kill the flesh, for so should we digress from the rule of humanity: for no man hateth his own flesh, Ephe. 5.29. August. de civet. Dei, l. 19 c. 27. but loveth and cherisheth it. No, our righteousness in this life, which may be rather said to consist in the Remission of sins, than perfection of virtues, as it is to be furthered by all ordinary and direct means, so are we not to transgress that law, line, or limit which is prescribed. We must not cut off our members with a knife, but our carnal affections with a holy and mortified life. Tertul lib. de poeniten▪ initio. Whence it is, that Origen was justly punished by using too little diligence where there was great need, Quem de flumine Galio qui per Phrygiam labitur, propinesse arbitremur; de quo quicungue bibit, tantoperè insanire solet, ut scipsune ililco castraturus est. Pomp. Laetus de sacred. Bl●s. Tertul. in Apolig c. 45. because he used too great diligence where there was little need. For, gelding himself, he prevented himself, of a greater conquest: for there is no mastery to get the mastery, of sin through disability. For as he that surceaseth but then from sin, when he can sin no more, forsaketh not his sins, but his sins forsake him; so he who disableth himself for committing sin, lest his ability should draw him to sin, disableth not his sins, but his sins disable him: for howsoever he hath disabled the act of sin, he hath not suppressed the occasion, which resteth not so much in the act, as in the desire to sin. No less worthy was Democritus error of reproving, who was blinded before he was blind: for a Christian need not put out his eyes for fear or seeing a woman; since howsoever his bodily eye, see, yet still his heart is blind against all unlawful desires. The princely Prophet saith indeed, Lord turn away my eyes from vanity; but this turning doth not so much imply the look of the eye, as the lust or assent of the heart. Psal. 11.8. Neither is it so requisite to make a covenant with our eyes that they shall not look upon a woman, as to make a covenant with our hearts that they may never lust after a woman. In like sort, if any intemperate or immoderate desire to luscious fare or delicious drink should surprise us, whose subtle fumes unrivet each joint of the memory, and loosen the cement which held it fast; (for you shall ever note, as I said before, that deep drinkers have but shallow memories:) we are so to prevent the abuse, that we contemn not the moderate and healthful use of them. For as to use them in excess is to abuse them, so not to use them at all is to contemn or neglect God's providence in them. We must not say with the Epicure, Let us eat and drink, for to morrow we shall die; but rather let us eat and drink, as if to morrow we should die; remembering that strict account which every one must give of the use or abuse of God's creatures: for it is not the use, but abuse which produceth sin. So as Thracius, whom I formerly touched, and of whom Aulus Gellius writeth, covertly glancing at his folly, was for any thing that I can see, Noctium Atticarum li. 19 c. 13. even at that time most of all drunken, when he cut down all his vines, lest he should be drunken. Likewise in the quest or pursuit of honour, as it is ambition to hunt after it, undeserved; so it is the most apparent testimony of true and approved virtue to obtain it undesired. For this reluctancy to receiving of honour, can never be without some mixture of pride: for they would have the world to observe, how well they deserve it; and again, their humility (which is seldom in these without some tincture of vainglory) in that they so little desire it. So as, these popular and fiery spirits, whose only aims are to dignify themselves, deserve no sharper curb for over-valuing themselves, than these, who pride themselves in their humility, deserve for counterfeiting a kind of debasing or disvaluing of themselves to the eye of the world. Whence I might take occasion to speak of those precise Schismatics, who cannot endure any precedency or priority of place to be in the Church, but an equality of Presbytery; nay, what is now grown amongst them to a more desperate frenzy, their main work is to advance a Lay-presbytery, which till by Farel and Viret from the Chimaeras of a vaporous or viperous brain hatched, was never dreamt: but I will leave them to a sharper censure, till they be throughly cured of their distemper. Concupiscence of the eye. Now for the second motive to sin, which is the Concupiscence of the eye; as it is so to be moderated that it stray not, so should it be so directed that it sleep not; sleep not, I say, in the survey of that, for which it was created. The eye strayeth when it coveteth what it should not; it sleepeth when it retireth from what it should: it strayeth when it lusteth after a strange woman; it sleepeth when it readeth not the law of God, to reclaim it from lusting after a strange woman: it strayeth, when it lusts after Naboths vineyard; it sleepeth when it looks not after God's vineyard. Neither is the eye so to be limited, as if contemplation were only intended; for as it is not sufficient to pray, unless we practise as well as pray: so is it not sufficient to look upon the Law, unless we live after the Law on which we look. We read that Abraham buried Sarah in the cave of Macpelah, that is, in a double Sepulchre. He that burieth his mind in knowledge only, Gen. 23.19. without any care of practice, he buries Sarah in a single Sepulchre: but he that buries his mind, as well in the practice and feeling of religion, (which is all in all) as in the knowledge and understanding of it, he buries Sarah in a double Sepulchre: and so must all we do which are the true children of Abraham: for then with Abraham burying our spirit in a double Sepulchre, we shall with Elizeus have a double Spirit; a spirit that as well doth, as teacheth. Otherwise, we are but tinkling Cymbals, 2 King. 29.15. ● Cor. 13.1. making only a sound of religion, without any sound or sincere profession: being (as that honey-tongued Father saith) in body inward, but in heart outward. Now the eye, as it is the tenderest and subtlest Organ of all others, Coepore interias, sed corde exterius. Bernard, Med. cap. 8. so should the Object on which it is fixed be the purest and clearest of all others. The Eagle accounts those of her young ones bastards, which cannot fix their eyes upon the Sun, and with equal reflection (as it were) reverberate the beaming vigour or splendour thereof: which should be the Emblem of divine contemplation; teaching us, that howsoever we have our feet on earth, we are to have our eyes in heaven: not by prying too saucily into the sealed Ark of God's inscrutable will, but by meditating ever of him, so to rest in him, Col●wella lib 5. cap. 9 Vnum musculum prae caeteris animalibus oculum elevantem babet▪ quo ad coeleslia magit rapiatur, terrestribus minus capiatur. Ib. that after earth we may for ever rest with him. It is observed by professed Oculists, that whereas all creatures have but four muscles to turn their eyes round about, man hath a sift to pull his eyes up to heaven. How far divert they then their eyes from the contemplation of that Object, for which they were created, who cannot see their neighbour's ground but they must cover it, nor his beast but they desire it, nor any thing which likes them, but with a greedy eye they heart-eat it? So large is the extent or circuit of their heart to earthly things, as they can see nothing but they instantly desire; so straight is the circumference of their heart to heavenly things, they set no mind on them, as if altogether unworthy their desire. So as I cannot more aptly compare these idolising worldlings to any thing, then to the bird Ibis, which is of that filthy nature, as she receives those excrements in at her mouth, which she had purged before from her guts. Foetorem, quem ab illis prius emisisset, ab o'er denud recipit. Plin. in Nat. ●ist. Aeliah. Gersen. Neither do they resemble this bird only in respect of their bestial or insatiate receipt, but also in the unbounded extent of their heart. Oris Apollo writeth, that the Egyptians when they would describe the heart, paint that bird which they call Ibis; because they think that no creature, for proportion of the body, hath so great a heart as the Ibis hath. Neither hath our worldly Ibis a less heart to the filthy desires of the world, being of necessity forced to leave the world, before he can leave desiring the things of this world: or their eyes, Satan-like, come from compassing the whole earth, esteeming no joy to the worldling, like much enjoying: yet am I not so rigorously affected, or from feeling of humanity so far estranged, as with Democritus, to move you to pull out your eyes, that the occasion of temptation might be removed, by being of your eyes, those motives to temptation, wholly deprived. Nor with that enamoured Italian, Ariosto. to wish you to fix your eyes upon the beams of the Sun, till they were feared, that the sight of your Mistress might not move your disquiet. No; enjoy your eyes, and make them directors to guide you, Erga mundum habecmus oculum retortum. not as blind deceitful guides to entrap you; use the object of this sense, but wean it from assenting to concupiscence; concluding over with that good remembrance, May that object be from our eyes removed, which makes us from our dear Lord divided. Now for the last Motive, Pride of life. which is the Pride of life; it was Lucifer's sin, and therefore should be each true Christians scorn. For this sin (saith an ancient and learned Father) are the children of the kingdom thrown into utter darkness: August. Soliloq. cap. 29. and whence cometh this, but because they ascend up unto that Mountain, unto which the first Angel ascended, and as a Devil descended? He who entertaineth this Motive, is an ambitious man, who (as one rightly observeth) may be well and fitly similized with the Chameleon, who hath nothing in his body but Lungs; so the badge of the ambitius is to be windy and boisterous: whereas, if he would measure all his undertake, rather by the dignity of the thing, than the Ambition of his mind, he should find as much content as now he finds disquiet. It was the rule of a wise Statesman, and well deserves it the observance of every private person, but especially of such who sit ne'er the Stern of State; Omnia metiri malim dignitate quam ambitione. Plin in epist. not to suffer any ambitious heat transport him, but to measure all things according to their dignity and worth: and withal, rather to refer the opinion of themselves and their actions to the censure of others, and freely put themselves to be weighed in the judicious scale or balance of others, then to be approvers of themselves without the suffrage of others: for certainly, as there is no humour more predominant than Ambition, nor apt to make man forgetful of himself; so he who is of a haughty and proud disposition * judging of another consisteth in these▪ three points; First, when a man doth well, to say he doth evil. Secondly, when a man doth evil, to say that man doth worse. Thirdly, when a thing is doubtful to take it in the worse part. Vid Annal. Stow. Laort-in vit. Pittaci. disvalues all others, purposely to prise his own deserts at an higher estimate. I remember with what character that proud English Cardinal was decoloured, who bore so great a stroke in this Kingdom, as it was in his power to shake the foundation of Monasteries, and from their ruins to raise his own structures; that he was so puffed up with Ambition, as he preferred the honour of his person, before the discharge of his Profession. Surely that sentence was verified in him, Promotion declares what men be; for never was his Nature throughly discovered, nor his inside displayed, till his outside was with the Cardinals Palls graced. How necessary is it then for man, being more subject to Pride himself in his height, then with patience to receive a fall, to learn how to moderate his acception of honour, before he come to honour? For I do not so limit him, as if he should not at all receive it, but rather how he should demean himself having received it. Neither in Ambition only, but in that attire of sin, gorgeous apparel, is the like limitation to be used: for herein are we to observe such decency, as neither the contempt thereof may tax us of irregular carelessness, nor affectation thereof evince us of too singular niceness: for the former, as it implies a careless indifferency, so the latter argues an effeminate delicacy: for God hateth no less in man this sloth and sluttishness, than he hateth too much neatness and niceness. Solâ socordiâ innocentes. Tacit. Yea, I have ofttimes observed no less pride shrouded under a threadbare cloak, than under a more sumptuous coat, So as, Antisthenes went not far a wrong, who seeing Socrates show his torn cloak, showing a hole thereof unto the people; Lo quoth he, ●allium video, Philosophum non video. thorough this I see Socrates vanity. It is not the Hood which makes the Monk, nor the Cloak which makes the Philosopher; but the Disposition of the mind, which makes him a true or false professor. It is good therefore, in the use of these things to observe the end for which they were ordained; now apparel was not ordained to pride us in it, but to be kept warm by it. Peter Martyr showeth, that Clothing doth keep the body warm two ways: Comment. in ● Reg. cap. 1. By keeping in the natural heat of the body; and by keeping out the accidental cold of the air. This then being ordained for necessity, is not to be used for vainglory: for howsoever (to such excess of vanity is this age grown) that fashion is esteemed nearest, which is newest; discretion will inform you better, and tell you that fashion is of all other the choicest, which is the comeliest. But that these three main Motives to temptation, and professed assailants of Moderation. I mean, Concupiscence of the flesh, Concupiscence of the eyes, and Pride of life may be the better resisted, Chrysost. lib. de orando Deo. incessant Prayer is to be used. For Prayer is God's honour, Man's armour, and the Devil's terror; it is God's oblation, Man's munition, and the Devil's expulsion. By Prayer are those Treasures digged, which faith in the Gospel beholdeth. As it is then God's Sacrifice, let it be Man's exercise, that it may defeat the Devil's malice: saying with blessed Augustine; August. Soliloq. cap. 12. Behold, O Lord my God, the whole world is full of the snares of Concupiscence, which they have prepared for my feet, and who shall escape them? Truly he, from whom thou shalt take away the Pride of his eyes, that the Concupiscence of his eyes may not seize upon him; and from whom thou shalt take away the Concupiscence of the flesh, that the Concupiscence of the flesh may not surprise him; and from whom thou shalt take away an irreverent and unbridled mind, that the pride of life may not craftily deceive him. O happy he, to whom thou shalt do this I surely he shall pass his days in safety! Thus far have I proceeded in discourse touching both manner and matter, how and wherein Moderation is to be limited. Where, in the pursuit of honour, as I would have you no Canius, too Stoically to contemn it; so no Cassius, too tenderly to affect it: Likewise in the pursuit of Wealth, as I would have you no Mimus, too scornfully to hate it; so no Midas, too slavishly to hug it: Likewise in the pursuit of Fancy, as I would have you no Arminius, too severely to loathe it; so no Arsenius, too dear to love it: Likewise in Fare, as I would have you no Phythagoras, too rigorously to abstain from it; so no Diagoras, too riotously to epicure it: Likewise in Apparel, as I would have you no Diogenes, too carelessly to use it; so no Demosthenes, too curiously to choose it: Lastly, in Pleasure, as I would have you no Philopomenes, too strictly to despise it; so no Philoxenus, too highly to prise it. For Origen himself eunuching, Democritus his eyes blinding, Crates his money drowning, and Thracius his vines destroying, no less offended (as we have before observed) in exceeding the limit by Nature proposed, than the Libertines of their time, came short of that rule which Moderation had prescribed. But drawing near shore, I am now to descend to the last branch of this Observation, treating of the Accomplished end which attends Moderation. AS there is no Art or Science which hath not some especial end, Of the accomplished end which attends Moderation. to which it is properly directed; so is there no Virtue which works or actuates not for some end; in the acquisition whereof it is fully satisfied. Now touching this end, whereto all virtues were and are properly directed; both Heathen and Divine Philosophers with one consent have concluded it to be that Summary or Supreme good, than which nothing could be better in respect of the fullness, higher in respect of the worthiness, or safer in respect of the secureness. But how different in opinion the ancient Philosophers have been touching this Summary or Supreme good, what it should be, or wherein it might be properly said to consist; there is none having been conversant in their Ethics, but he sufficiently knows it. So as Varro reporteth, that these ancient Philosophers have held and maintained two hundred threescore and eight several opinions concerning Felicity. Where some placed their Summary good in Honours or preferments, Lib. de Philosophia apud. Aug. de Civitate Dei. lib. 19 cap. 1. others in Pleasures or delights, but few in that true or accomplished Felicity, the testimony of a good conscience, which only makes man happy; and without which, enjoying all, he enjoys nothing: for were this Felicity or accomplished end, to which all virtues are properly directed, to be found on Earth, than were the hopes of many good and virtuous men frustrated, whose thoughts are so far above the foundation of earth, or all those perfunctory delights, The difference betwixt the Ethnic and Christian Ethick in the opinion of Felicity. which this low Theatre can afford, as they have esteemed such men of all others most miserable upon earth, whose thoughts were not erected above earth, but slaved to the desires of this life, as if their hopes extended no further. No, in vain were those many sigh and groan in the spirit, those incessant labours and watchings, which the faithful so willingly undergo, if there were no happiness save only in enjoying the delights of this life; the fruition whereof, as they tender no true sweetness, so are they ever attended by sharp repentance. For howbeit, every one be reputed worthy, if he be wealthy, and nought if he be needy; yet when Sin, having three punishments, Fear, Shame, and Gild; Fear of judgement, Shame of men, and Gild of conscience: shall convent and convict him, he shall find that riches cannot deliver in the day of wrath. So as howsoever the sin seem sweet, the sting of sin shall wound his heart: For the bread of deceit is sweet to a man, but his mouth shall be filled with gravel. Prov. 20.17. Likewise the highminded man, whose heart hath been only set on Titles of honour, howsoever he seemed raised or reared above the pitch of common earth, disdaining these poor wormelings, who had the selfsame Maker, though inferior to this high Cedar in honour; when he shall be forced to call Corruption his mother, and worms his brethren and sisters; when he must leave that high Babel, which his pride erected; those worldly swelling tumors, his slippery honours, which he once enjoyed; those Sycophants, the followers of greatness, which he so much affected; yea, the world itself, where all his imaginary glory was stored; he shall then find goodness to be far better than greatness, and worldly dignity to add fuel to these Viols, which he hath worthily incurred. Likewise the Voluptuous man, as he hath enjoyed the treasures of sin for a season, sported him in his beds of Ivory, feasted royally, fared deliciously, and fed all his miserable senses with a loathed satiety, he shall feel that the pleasure of sin was final, but the punishment due to sin eternal; he shall feel a worm ever gnawing, never ending, fiery tears ever streaming, never stinting, grief ever gripping, never ceasing; death ever living, never dying: yea, that worm which gnaweth and dieth not, that fire which burneth and quencheth not, August. Bernard. that death which rageth and endeth not. But if punishments will not deter us, at least let rewards allure us. The faithful cry ever for the approach of God's judgement; the reward of immortality, which, with assurance in God's mercy, and his Son's Passion, they undoubtedly hope to obtain; with vehemency of spirit inviting their Mediator: Come Lord jesus, Revel 22.20. come quickly. Such is the confidence or spiritual assurance which every faithful soul hath in him, to whose express Image as they were form, so in all obedience are they conformed, that the promises of the Gospel might be on them conferred and confirmed. Such as these care not so much for possessing aught in the world, as they take care to lay a good foundation against the day of trial, which may stand firm against the fury of all temptation. These see nothing in the world worthy their fear▪ a 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉. Nazi●n. This only (say they) is a fearful thing, to fear any thing more than God. These see nought in the world worthy either their b Qui nil ●●bet in mundo quod app●t●t, nihil est quod de mundo p●●timescat. Cyprian. desire or fear and their reason is this, c Quis ei deseculo metus est, cui in se●ulo Deus tutor est? ibid. De hoc die lux proficit, sed ●ox deficit. Aug. 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 appellat Clemens. There is nothing able to move that man to fear in all the world, who hath God for his guardian in the world. Neither is it possible that he should fear the loss of any thing in the world, who cannot see any thing worthy having in the world. So equally affected are these towards the world, as there is nothing in all the world, that may any way divide their affection from him who made the world. Therefore may we well conclude touching these, that their Light shall never go out: For these walk not in darkness, nor in the shadow of death, as those to whom the light hath not as yet appeared: for the Light hath appeared in Darkeness, giving light all the night long to all these faithful believers, during their abode in these Houses of Clay. Now to express the Nature of that Light, though it far exceed all humane apprehension, much more all expression: Clemens understandeth by that Light which the Wise-woman, to wit, Christ's spouse, kept by means of her candle which gave light all the night long, the heart; and he calleth the Meditations of holy men, Candles that never go out. Saint Augustine writeth, among the Pagans in the Temple of Venus, there was a Candle which was called Inextinguishable: whether this be or no of Venus' Temple, we leave it to the credit of antiquity, only Augustine's report we have for it; but without doubt in every faithful hearer and keeper of the Word, who is the Temple of the Holy Ghost, there is a Candle or Light that never goes out. Whence it appears that the heart of every faithful soul is that Light which ever shineth, August. de Civit. Dei. lib. 21. cap 6. and his faith that virgin Oil which ever feedeth, and his Conscience that comfortable Witness which assureth, and his devoted Zeal to God's house that Seal which confirmeth him to be one of Gods chosen, because a living faith worketh in him, which assures him of life, howsoever his outward man, the temple of his body, Tract. 49. in Io. Vnde mors in anima? quid non est fides. Vnde mors in corpore; quid non est animae. Ergo animae tu● anim● est fides. become subject to death. Excellently saith Saint Augustine: Whence comes it that the soul dieth? because faith is not in it. Whence that the body dieth? because a soul is not in it. Therefore the soul of thy soul is faith. But forasmuch as nothing is so carefully to be sought for, nor so earnestly to be wrought for, as purity or uprightness of the heart: for seeing there is no action, no study, which hath not his certain scope, end, or period; yea, no Art but laboureth by some certain means or exercises to attain some certain proposed end; (which end surely is to the Soul at first proposed, but the last which is obtained:) how much more ought there to be some end proposed, to our studies, as well in the exercises of our bodies; as in the readings, meditations, and mortifications of our minds (passing over corporal and external labours) for which end those studies or exercises were at first undertaken? For let us think with ourselves, if we knew not, or in mind before conceived not, whither or to what especial place we were to run, were it not a vain task for us to undertake to run? Even so to every Action are we to propose his certain end: which being once attained, we shall need no further striving towards it, being at rest in ourselves by attaining it. And like end are we to propose to ourselves in the exercise of Moderation, making it a subduer of all things which sight against the spirit, which may be properly reduced to the practising of these four; overcoming of anger by the spirit of patience; wantonness by the spirit of continence; pride by the spirit of humility; and in all things unto him whose Image we partake, so nearly conformed, that, like good Proficients, we may truly say with the blessed Apostle, We have in all things learned to be contented. Anger. For the first, to wit, Anger, as there is no passion which makes man more forgetful of himself; This might be instanced in our late Fleetstr●et tumult. so to subdue it, makes man an absolute enjoyer of himself. Athenodorus a wise Philosopher, departing from Augustus Caesar, and bidding him farewell, left this lesson with him, most worthy to be imprinted in an Emperor's breast; That when he was angry, he should repeat the four and twenty Greek letters. Plutarch in Apotheg. Rom. Which lesson received Caesar as a most precious jewel, making such use thereof, as he showed himself no less a Prince in the conquest of this passion, than in his magnificence of state, and majesty of person. No less praiseworthy was that excellent sovereignty which Architas had over this violent and commanding passion, (as we have formerly observed) who finding his servants loitering in the field, or committing some other fault worthy reproof, like a worthy master, thought it fit first to overmaster himself, before he would show the authority of a Master to his servants: wherefore perceiving himself to be greatly moved at their neglect, as a wise Moderator of his passion, he would not beat them in his ire, Cic. Tus. lib. 4. but said; Happy are ye that I am angry with you. In brief, because my purpose is only to touch these rather than treat of them, having so amply discoursed of some of them formerly: as the Sun is not to go down upon our wrath; Ira mortalium debet esse mortalis. Lectant. so in remembrance of that son of righteousness, let us bury all wrath: so shall we be freed from the viols of wrath, and appear blameless in the day of wrath. For in peace shall we descend to our graves without sighing, if in peace we be angry without sinning. Wantonness. Secondly wantonness, being so familiar a Darling with the flesh, is ever waging war with the spirit; she comes with powdered hair, painted cheeks, straying eyes, mincing and measuring her pace, tinkling with her feet, and using all immodesty to lure the unwary youth to all sensuality. These light professors (as St. Jerome to Marcelia saith) are matter of scandal to Christians eyes; those eyesores which wound the inward man with the sting of anguish. Now what receipt better or more sovereign to cure this malady, than to take away the cause which begets this infirmity? And what may we suppose the cause to be, but the complacency of the flesh? when we labour to satisfy our desires, and give easy reins to our affections. August. For the flesh, while she is obedient, becomes a servant to the soul: she governeth, the other is governed: this commandeth, that is commanded: but having once begun to usurp, she will scarcely ever become a faithful and loyal subject. What necessity then is there enjoined us to stand upon our guard, when we have a Tarpeia within our gates, ready to betray us to our professed enemy? With what continual and incessant labour ought we to employ ourselves, that this untamed Iebusit● might be so tired and wearied, that all inordinate motions might be extinguished, which by sloth and want of employment are ever cherished? Let us then embrace Continence, and by power of so good a spirit dispossess the bad. Let us not entertain those dangerous motives to sin, which, like a Snake in the bosom will wound us to death. And what be those motives? Wanton thoughts and wanton words, which corrupt men's manners with wicked works. It is a sure note and worthy observance; Whensoever any thought is suggested to you which tasteth of evil, make the door of your heart fast, lest you give actual possession to the Devil. Wanton words likewise are dangerous motives to incontinence; the habit whereof being once attained, will hardly be relinquished. So as Speech, which Democritus calls the image of life, being exercised in scurrility, seems to deface that Image, by laying on it the dark and sable colour of death. For as muddy water is an argument that the fountain is troubled: so filthy words are witnesses that the heart is corrupted. A good Tree brings forth good fruit, a pure Spring clear water, and an uncorrupt heart words tending to the edification of the hearer. Now he who useth his tongue to filthy communication, incurs a threefold offence: First, in dishonouring God; Secondly, in sinning against his own soul; Thirdly, in ministering matter of scandal or offence to his brother. How necessary is it then, to keep a watch upon our mouth, and a gate of circumstance unto our lips, that we offend not with our tongue; which like the poisonous Adder, stings even unto death, wounding the soul with an incurable dart? Neither do I, speaking of wantonness, only restrain my discourse to incontinence, but to whatsoever else may properly tend to the complacency or indulgence of the flesh, as to tender obedience to her in the desire of luscious and lascivious meats, or the like; including all such as turn the grace of God to wantonness, making a profession of faith, but denying the power thereof in their life and conversation. Thirdly, Pride. Pride, that Luciferian sin, whose airy thoughts are ever mounting, must be subdued by the spirit of humility. We would hold it to be no faithful part of a subject, to make choice of no livery but his, who is a professed foe to his Sovereign. And what I pray you, do we, when we attire ourselves in the habiliments of Pride; not only outwardly in gorgeous apparel, choicest perfumes, and powdered locks; but likewise inwardly, in putting on the spirit of Pride, attended by scornful respects, disdainful eyes, and haughty looks? Can we be truly termed Subjects? May we, wearing the Devil's crest, partake of the seamelesse coat of Christ? May we expect a Crown after death, that oppose him who wore a thorny Crown to crown us after death? No; as the Soldier is known by his Colours, the Servant by his Cognizance, the Sheep by his mark, and coin by the stamp; so shall we be known by our Colours, if we be Christ's Soldiers; by our Crest or Cognizance, if his followers; by our mark, if his Sheep and Lambkins; by our stamp or superscription, August● if his Coin or Sterling. O know, how much we are the humbler, by so much to our Beloved are we the liker! Let us resemble him then in all humility, that afterwards we may reign with him in glory. Lastly, that we may become conformable unto him, whose Image we have received, we are to learn of the blessed Apostle, in all things to be contented. Content (saith the Proverb) is worth a Crown, but many Crowns come far short of this content. Now to propose a rule how this Content may be acquired, were a Lesson well worthy our learning: which I could wish might be as soon learned as proposed: for Content briefly, consists in these two; Wherein true content properly consisteth. To be free from desiring what we have not; to be free from fearing to lose what we already have. Now he, who seeth nothing in the world worthy desiring, cannot choose but be free from fear of losing, being so indifferent touching the world, or whatsoever else he hath in enjoying. For he that neither hath, nor seeth aught in the world which he esteems worthy his love, enjoyeth nought but he can willingly be content to leave; for no man feareth the loss of that which he doth not love. But to draw nearer a point: these two passions or affections of desire and fear; desire of having more than we have; fear of losing what we already have, may be properly said to have a threefold respect: To the goods or endowments of the Mind, of the Body, and of Fortune. For the first, Plato in his Timaeo saith; The goods of the Mind. Plato in Timaeo. Primùm oritur, postremiun moritur. If a man lose his eyes, or feet, or hands, or wealth, we may say of such an one, he looseth something; but he who loseth his heart and reason, loseth all. For in the womb of our Mother, the first thing which is engendered or participates form, is the heart; and the last which dieth, is the same heart. So as properly it may be called Reasons Treasury or store-house; where those divine graces are seated, which confer the best beauty to man, giving him a note of distinction from other creatures, the more to dignify man. For howsoever all creatures have hearts, yet only to man is given an understanding heart. Other creatures have hearts indeed sensible of present pain, but they cannot recall to mind what is past, or probably collect by what is past, the seasons of times, or issues of affairs likely to ensue. In the heart of man, there is the reasonable power, with which he governeth himself; the irascible power, with which he defendeth himself; and concupiscible, by which he provideth for things necessary to relieve himself. Now admit we were deprived of that principal blessing, the intellectual part, so as like raving and raging Orostes, we were forced to take many blind by-paths, wanting the means of direction by reason of our woeful distraction, and crying out with Octavia in Seneca; O, to the spirits below that I were sent, For death were easy to this punishment! Quis me Stygias mittet ad umbras? Mori juvabit, poenae nam gravior● niece esi. Sen-in Octau. Admit, I say, all this; yet is the afflicted soul to be content, abiding Gods good leisure, who as he doth wound, so he can cure; and as he opened old Tobiths eyes, so can he, when he pleaseth, where he pleaseth, and as he pleaseth, open the bleered eyes of understanding: so with a patient expectance of God's mercy, and Christian resolution to endure all assaults with constancy, as he recommendeth himself to God, so shall he find comfort in him: in whom he hath trusted and receive understanding more clear and perfect than before he enjoyed. Or admit one should have his memorative part so much enfeebled, as with Corvinus Messala he should forget his own name; Messala Corvin. yet the Lord, who numbereth the stars, and knoweth them all by their names, will not forget him, though he hath forgot himself; having him as a Signet upon his finger, ever in his remembrance. For what shall it avail, if thou have memory beyond Cyrus, who could call every soldier in his army by his name, when it shall appear thou hast forgot thyself, and exercised that faculty rather in remembering injuries, than recalling to mind those insupportable injuries, which thou hast done unto God? Nay more; of all faculties in man, Memory is the weakest, first waxeth old, and decays sooner than strength or beauty. And what shall it profit thee, once to have excelled in that faculty, when the privation thereof adds to thy misery? Nothing, nothing: wherefore, as every good and perfect gift cometh from above, where there is neither change nor shadow of change, so as God taketh away nothing but what he hath given, let every one in the loss of this or that faculty, refer himself with patience to his sacred Majesty, who in his change from earth will crown him with mercy. Secondly, for the goods or blessings of the Body, as strength beauty, agility, The goods of the Body. Plut. in vit. Anl. Gel. Nect. Attie. l. 5. c. 9 Su●t●●. Tranqull. Homer in Odies. etc. admit thou wert blind with Appius, lame with Agesilaus, tongue-tied with Samius, dwarfish with Ivius, deformed with Thersites; though blind, thou hast eyes to look with, and that upward; though lame, thou hast legs to walk with, and that homeward; though tongue-tied, thou hast a tongue to speak, and that to GOD-ward; though dwarfish, thou hast a proportion given thee, aiming heaven-ward; though deformed, thou hast a glorious feature, and not brutish to looke-downward. For not so much by the motion of the body, and her outwardly working faculties, as by the devotion of the heart, and those inwardly moving graces, are we to come to GOD. Again, admit thou wert so mortally sick, as even now drawing near shore, there were no remedy but thou must of necessity bid a long adieu to thy friends, thy honours, riches, and whatsoever else are dear or near unto thee: yet for all this, why shouldest thou remain discontented? Art thou here as a Countryman, or a Pilgrim? No Countryman sure; for then shouldest thou make earth thy Country, and inhabit here as an abiding city. Certum est quòd morieris, inc●rtum est quando, quomodo, aut ubi; quoniam ubique te mors expectat, tu quoque si sapiens fueris, ubique eam expectabis. Ber. in Med. 3. And if a Pilgrim, who would grieve to be going homeward? There is no life but by death, no habitation but by dissolution. He than that feareth death, feareth him that bringeth glad tidings of life. Therefore to esteem life above the price, or fear death beyond the rate, are alike evil: for he that values life to be of more esteem than a pilgrimage, is in danger of making shipwreck of the hope of a better inheritance; and he that feareth death as his professed enemy, may thank none for his fear but his security. Certainly, there is no greater argument of folly than to show immoderate sorrow either for thy own death, or death of another: for it is no wisdom to grieve for that which thou canst not possibly prevent, but to labour in time rather to prevent what may give the occasion to grieve. For say, is thy friend dead? I confess it were a great loss, if he were lost; but lost he is not, though thou be left; gone he is before thee, not gone from thee; divided only, not exiled from thee. A Princess we had of sacred memory, who looking one day from her Palace, might see one show immoderate signs or appearances of sorrow, so as she moved with princely compassion, sent down presently one of her Pensioners to inquire who it was that so much sorrowed▪ and withal to minister him all means of comfort; who finding this sorrowful mourns to be a Counsellor of State, who sorrowed for the 〈◊〉 of his daughter; returned directly to his Sovereign, and acquainted her therewith. O (quoth she) who would thinks tha● a wise man and a Counsellor of our State could so forget himself, as to show himself 〈◊〉 for 〈…〉 of his child's! And surely, whosoever shall but duly con●ider man's 〈◊〉 with death necessity, cannot choose but wonder why any one should be so wholly destitute of understanding, to lament the death of any one, since to die is as necessary and common as to be borne to every one. Excusit redeuntem natura, ut intrantem. Sen. But perchance it may be by some objected, that the departure of their friend is not so much lamented, for that is of necessity, and therefore exacts no tears of sorrow, being, if spent, as fruitless as the doom reverselesse; but their sudden and inopinate departure. Whereto I answer, that no death is sudden to him that dies well: for sudden death hath properly a respect rather to the life, how it was passed or disposed, than to death, how short his summons were, or how quickly closed. Io. Mathes. preaching upon the raising up of the woman's son of Naim by Christ, within three hours afterward died himself: The like is written of Luther, and many others. As, one was choked with a fly, another with a hair, a third pushing his foot against the tressal, another against the threshold falls down dead: So many kind of ways are chalked out for man, Vnus intro●tus, innumori exitus. Men. to draw towards his last home, and wean him from the love of the earth. Those whom God loves, said Menander, the young: yea, those whom he esteemeth highest, he takes from hence the soon: And that for two causes; the one, is to free them the sooner from the wretchedness of earth; the other, to crown them the sooner with happiness in Heaven: For what gain we by a long life, or what profit reap we by a tedious Pilgrimage, but, that we partly see, partly suffer, partly commit more evils? Priamus saw more days and shed more tears than Troilus. Let us hence then learn so to measure our sorrow for aught that may or shall befall us, Nazian. in funeb. orat. pro Caesario. in respect of the body, that after her return to earth, it may be gloriously reunited to the soul, to make an absolute Consort in Heaven. Thirdly, and lastly, for the goods or blessings of Fortune; they are not to command us, The goods of Fortune. but to be commanded by us; not to be served by us, but to serve us. And because he only in the affairs of this life is the wealthiest, who in the desires of this life is the neediest; and he the richest on earth, who sees little worth desiring on earth: we are so to moderate our desires (as I have formerly touched) in respect of those things we have not, that we may labour to overmaster our desires, (in thirsting after more than we already have;) likewise so to temper and qualify our affections in respect of those things we have, as to show no immoderate sorrow for the loss of those we have, but to be equally minded, as well in the fruition of those we have, as privation of those we have not. For of all others, there is no sorrow base nor unworthier, than that which is grounded on the loss of Ox, or Cow, or such inferior subjects. Neither incur they any less opinion of folly, who carried away with the love of their Horse, Hound, or some such creature, use of some prize or conquest got, to rear in their memory some Obeliske, or Monument graced with a beauteous inscription, to preserve their fame; because (poor beasts) they have nothing to preserve themselves: for howsoever this act seem to have some correspondence with gratitude, labouring only to grace them who have graced us, rearing a stone to perpetuate their fame, who memorised our Name by speed of foot, yet is it gross and so palpable to those, whose discretion is a moulder of all their actions, as they account it an act, worthier the observation of an Heathen than a Christian. Cimon buried his Mares, bestowing upon them specious Tombs, when they had purchased credit in the swift races of the Olympiads. Xantippus bewailed his Dog's death, which had followed his master from Calamina. Alexander erected a City in the honour of Bucepha●us, having been long defended by him in many dangerous battles. And the Ass may well among the Heathen be adorned with Lilies, Violets and Garlands, when their Goddess Vesta by an Asses bray, avoided the rape of Priapus. But howsoever these actions among Pagans might carry some colour of thankfulness, rewarding them, by whose speed, fury, agility, or some other means, they have been as well preserved as honoured: yet with Christians, whose eyes are so clearly opened, and by the light divine so purely illumined; would these seem acts of profaneness, ascribing honour to the creature, to whom none is due; and not to the Creator, to whom all honour is solely and properly due. In brief, let us so esteem of all the goods and gifts of Fortune, as of Utensils, fit for our use and service, but of the Supreme good, as our chiefest Solace: Aug. S●liloq, cap. 20▪ For he who subjected all things to the feet of man, that man might be wholly subject unto him, and that man might be wholly his, he gave man dominion over all those works of his: so he created all outward things for the body, the body for the soul, but the soul for him; that she might only intend him, and only love him, possessing him for solace, but inferior things for service. Thus far, Gentlemen, hath this present discourse enlarged itself, to express the rare and incomparable effects, which naturally arise from the due practice of Moderation, being indeed a virtue so necessary, and well deserving the acquaintance of a Gentleman, (who is to be imagined as one new come to his lands, and therefore stands in great need of so discreet an Attendant) as there is no one virtue better sorting rank, not only in matters of preferment, profit, or the like; but in matters of reputation or personal engagement, where his very name or credit is brought to the tesh. Look not then with the eye of scorn on such a follower: but take these instructions with you for a farewell. Doth Ambition buzz in your care motions of Honour? This faithful Attendant, Moderation, will dissuade you from giving way to these suggestions, and tell you, Ambition is the high road which leads to ruin, but Humility is the gate which opens unto glory. Doth Covetousness whisper to you matters of profit? Here is one will tell you, the greatest wealth in the world, is to want the desires of the world. Doth Wantonness suggest to you motives of Delight? Here is that Herb of Grace, which will save you from being wounded, and salve you already wounded. In brief, both your expense of Time and Coin, shall be so equally disposed, as you shall never need to redeem Time, because you never prodigally lost it; nor repent your fruitless expense of Coin, because you never profusely spent it. Thus if you live, you cannot choose but live for ever; for ever in respect of those choice virtues which attend you: for ever, in respect of your good Example, moving others to imitate you: and for ever, in respect of that succeeding glory which shall crown you. THE ENGLISH GENTLEMAN. Argument. Of Perfection; Contemplative and Active; The Active preferred; Wherein it consisteth; Of the absolute or Supreme end whereto it aspireth, and wherein it resteth. PERFECTION. WE are now to treat of a Subject, Observat. 8. which, while we are here on earth, is far easier to discourse of, then to find; for Perfection is not absolute in this life, but gradual. So as, howsoever we may term one perfect or complete in respect of some especial qualities, wherewith he is endued; yet, if we come to the true ground of Perfection, Deus fecit hominem ratione sapi●●tem, vitainnocen tem, domino potentem. we shall find it far above the Sphere of Mortality to ascend to: for man, miserable man, what is he, or of himself what can he, to make him absolutely perfect? Exceed he can, but in nothing but sin, which is such a natural imperfection, as it wholly detracts from his primitive Perfection. Time was indeed, when man knew no sin, and in that ignorance from sin consisted his Perfection. But no sooner was that baneful Apple tasted, then in the knowledge of sin he became a professant. We are therefore to discourse of such Perfection, as we commonly in opinion hold for absolute, though in very deed it appear only respective and definite; for to treat of that Perfection which is transcendent or indefinite, were to sound the Sea▪ or weigh the Mountains, so far it exceedeth the conceit of man: yea, I say, to task humane apprehension to the discussion of that sovereign or supreme Perfection, were as unequally matched, as ever were earth and heaven, strength and weakness, or the great Beh●moth, and the silliest worm that creepeth in the chinks of the earth. Let us address ourselves then to this Task, and make this our ground, That as no man is simply good but God; so no man is absolutely perfect till he be individually united to God; which on earth is not granted, but promised; not effected, but expected; not obtained, but with confidence desired, when these few, but evil days of our Pilgrimage shall be expired: yet is there a gradual Perfection, which in some degree or measure we may attain, becoming conformable unto him, whose Image we have received, and by whom we have so many singular graces and prerogatives on us conferred. And this Perfection is to be procured by assistance of God's Spirit, and a desire in man to second that assistance by an assidual endeavour: Which devout and godly endeavour, that it might be the better furthered, and his glory, by whose grace we are assisted, the more advanced; needful it were to reduce to our memory, daily and hourly, these two main Considerations. Two Considerations of main consequence. Bern. Med. 15. First, those three professed Enemies that infatigably assail us, which should make us more watchful. Secondly, that faithful friend, who so courageously fights for us, which should make us more thankful: for our Enemies, as they are some of them domestic, so are they more dangerous; for no foe more perilous than a bosom foe. Besides they are such pleasing Enemies, as they cheer us, when they kill us; sting us, when they smile on us. And what is the instrument they work on, but the soul? And what the time limited them to work in, but our life? Which humours do swell up, sorrows bring down, heats dry, air infect, August. Manual. cap. 8. meat puff up, fasting macerate, jests dissolve, sadness consume, care straineth, security deludeth, youth extolleth, wealth transporteth, poverty dejecteth, old-age crooketh, infirmity breaketh, grief depresseth, the Devil deceiveth, the world flattereth, the flesh is delighted, the soul blinded, and the whole man perplexed. How should we now oppose ourselves to such furious and perfidious Enemies? Or what armour are we to provide for the better resisting of such powerful and watchful Assailants? Certainly, no other provision need we, than what already is laid up in store for us, to arm and defend us, and what those blessed Saints and servants of Christ have formerly used, leaving their own virtuous lives as patterns unto us. The Christians complete Armour. Their Armour was fasting, Prayer, and works of Devotion: by the first, they made themselves fit to pray; in the second they addressed themselves to pray as they ought; in the third they performed those holy duties, which every Christian of necessity ought to perform. Augustin. Sicut nullus locus vacat à peccando, it a nullus locus vacet à precando. And first, for Fasting, it is a great work, and a Christian work; producing such excellent effects, as it subjects the flesh to the obedience of the spirit; making her of a commander, a subject; of one who took upon her an usurped authority, to humble herself to the soul's sovereignty. Likewise Prayer, how powerful it hath been in all places, might be instanced in sundry places of holy Scripture. In the a Matt. 4, 1, 3. Desert, where temptation is the readiest; In the b Luke 19.47. Temple, where the Devil is ofttimes busiest; On the c Mark. 4.38. Sea, where the floods of perils are the nearest; In d 1 Thes. 5.3. Peace, where security makes men forgetfullest; And in e Exo. 17.11, 12. War, where imminent danger makes men fearfullest: Yea, whether it be with Daniel in the f Dan. 6.22. Den; or Manasses in the g 2 Paralip. 37. Dungeon; whether it be with holy David in the h 2 Sam. 12.10. Palace; or heavenly jeremy in the i jer. 37.15. Prison: the power and efficacy of Prayer, sacrificed by a devout and zealous believer, cannot choose but be as the first and second reign, fructifying the happy soil of every faithful soul, to her present comfort here, and hope of future glory elsewhere. Thirdly, works of Devotion, being the fruits or effects of a spiritual conversation; as ministering to the necessity of the Saints; wherein we have such plenty of examples, both in divine and humane writ, Qui copiofiores sunt, ●t volunt pro arbitrio quisque s●o quod visum est contribuunt, et quodita colligitur apud praepositum deponitur, etc. Iust. Mart. Apol. 2. Non pecca●erem, sed ●uf●um paupere●●utrit, quia in illo non culpate, sed naturam diligit, etc. Greg. M●g. The fruit of Fasting. Vid Cyprian. serm. de jejunio, tom. 2. Basil. de jejun homil. 1. Tertul, lib. de jejun. Origen. hom. 10. in Levit. Vid. Bedam. quo viro verè venerabili (testimonio P●●lyd●ti) nihil fuit cas●ius, nihil melius, nihil verius, etc. Polydor. lib. 1. Greg. in Mo●. Expos. In job. Hieron. as their godly charity, or zealous bounty might worthily move us to imitate such blessed Patterns in actions of like- Devotion, For such were they, as they were both liberal, and joyed in their liberality, every one contributing so much as he thought fit, or pleased him to bestow. And whatsoever was so collected, to the charge or trust of the Governor, or Disposer of the stock of the poor, was forthwith committed. Here was that poor-man's Box, or indeed Christ's Box, wherein the charity of the faithful was treasured. Neither did these holy Saints or Servants of God, in their Alms, eye so much the quality of the person, as his Image whom he did represent. And herein they nourished not a sinner, but a righteous begg●●; because they loved not his sin, but his nature. But now, because we are to treat of Perfection in each of these we are to observe such cautions, as may make the work perfect without blemish, and pure from the mixture of flesh. As first in that godly practice of Fasting, to observe such mediocrity, as neither desire to be known by blubbered eyes, hanging down the head, nor any such external passion may tax us to be of those Pharisees, whose devotion had relation rather to the observance of man, than the service of God; neither so to macerate the body, as to disable it for performing any office which may tend to the propagation of the glory of the Highest. For the first institution of Fasts, as it was purposely to subdue the inordinate motions of the flesh, and subject it to the obedience and observance of the spirit; so divers times were by the ancient Fathers and Counsels thought fitting to be kept in holy abstinence, of purpose to remove from them the wrath of God, inflicted on them by the sword, pestilence, famine, or some other such like plague. Saint Gregory instituted certain public Fasts, resembling the Rogation Week, with such like solemn processions against the plague and pestilence, as this Rogation-weeke was first ordained by another holy Bishop to that end. As for the ember-days, they were so called of our ancient forefathers in this Country, because on these fasting days, men eat bread baked under embers or ashes. But to propose a certain rule or form of direction, there is none surer or safer, then that which we formerly proposed: So to nourish our bodies, that they be not too much weakened, by which means more divine offices might be hindered; and again, so to weaken our bodies, that they be not too much pampered; by which means our spiritual fervour might be co●led. For too delicate is that master, who, when his belly is crammed, would have his mind with devotion crowned. Secondly, for Prayer, as it is to be numbered among the greatest works of charity, The power of Prayer. so of all others it should be freest from hypocrisy: for it is not the sound of the mouth, but the soundness of the heart, which makes this oblation so effectually powerful, and to him that prayeth, so powerfully fruitful. It is not beating of the breast with the fist, but inward compunction of the heart, flying with the wing of faith, that pierceth heaven. For neither could Trasylla's devotion, whereof Gregory relates, In Dei auribus desidertum vehemens clamor magnus est; remissa intentio, vox submissa. Bernard. Greg. in dialog. Nazian. in Epitaph. Gorgon. sororis ejus. Euseb. in hist. Hieron. in vit. Paul. Eremit. Vid. Doct. Andr. in Tortura Tort. have been so powerful; nor Gorgonius supplication, whereof Nazianzen reports, so fruitful; nor james the brother of our Lord his invocation, whereof Eusebius records, so faithful; nor Paul the Eremites daily oblation, whereof Jerome recounts, so effectual; if pronunciation of the mouth, without affection of the heart; beating of the breast, without devotion of mind; dejection of face, without erection of faith, had accompanied their prayer. For it is not hanging down the head like a bulrush, which argues contrition, but a passionate affection of the heart which mounts up to the throne of grace, till it purchase remission. Thirdly, for Almsdeeds and other works of Devotion, being the fruits or effects of faith, as they are sweet odours, and shall not lose their reward, being duly practised; so we must take these three cautions by the way, lest such sweet fruits be corrupted. The first is, to give her own, and not another's, for that were robbery: The second is, to give to the poor, and not to the rich in hope of commodity: The third is, to give in mercy or fellow-feeling of others wants, and not for vainglory. For howsoever the poor need not care for any of these respects, because he is rewarded; yet the giver is to care, because his reward should hereby become frustrated. Certainly, there is nothing which relisheth better to the palate of our Maker▪ then ministering relief to the needy Beggar, Greg. Nazian. who is God's beggar, as a holy Father calls him, and therefore should be relieved for his cause that sent him. Those Goats set on the left hand do affright me, not because they were robbers, but because they were no feeders, saith Nazianzen: therefore are we willed to feed the hungerstarved soul, lest want should famish him; for if we suffer him to die for food, we, and none but we did famish him. Thus if we observe a-right the zealous and religious practice of those blessed Patterns, who have gone before us, and have left their memorable lives as examples to be imitated by us, we shall in some measure attain to that Perfection, whereof we now discourse; labouring so to moderate our affections herein, as neither vainglory, nor any other fleshly respect may interpose itself in actions of such main and serious consequence. For albeit, as I formerly noted, no man may come to that absolute Perfection, either in matters of knowledge, or practice of life, as if nothing could be further attained, but that the very highest pitch of Perfection were acquired; yet are there degrees which in some measure may be attained, if those virtues which conduce to this Perfection be duly practised. For, it is not professing of virtue, but practising; neither practising of one, but all, which gives life to this Perfection. For he whom we sincerely perfect call, Excels not in one virtue, but in all. Which Perfection far exceeds all others, derived from some exquisite knowledge in Arts or Sciences; for these, how absolutely soever they be, come far short of that perfection which longer time and experience might bring them to. Alcibiades is reported to have been so skilful in all Arts and Exercises, that he won the prize in what enterprise soever he took in hand; which was no small glory, when in the Olympian or Istmian games he no sooner appeared, than those who were to contend with him, were forthwith dismayed: yet came this perfection short of that whereof we now discourse. For it may be probably gathered, that, albeit he was the activest in his time on Isthmus. yet all the activest youths of Greece were not on Isthmus; or if they were, yet the whole world had youths more active, and in all parts more absolute than they were in Greece. For to seek perfection on earth, either in respect of mind or body, In flumine palladis ignem. either in ability of the one, or excellency of the other, were— in aethere quarere nidum; he only being most perfect, who acknowledgeth himself to be most imperfect. Cicero brings in M. Antony, saying that there be many follow, Cicero 1, lib. de Orat. and yet come not to the perfection. Which he might have instanced the best in himself: for who, for discipline more exquisite, for attempts in his own person more valiant, for ripeness of wit more pregnant, or for tongue more powerfully persuasive than M. Antony? Yet to observe how much those more excellent parts were disabled, that light of understanding darkened, that pregnancy of wit rebated, that persuasive Orator by a wanton Oratresse seduced; yea, even that Mirror of men blemished, might move us freely and ingenuously to acknowledge, as there is nothing more variable than man in respect of his condition, so nothing more prone to evil in respect of his natural corruption. So as, howsoever he may seem in some sort perfect, either in moderating his affections with patience, or subduing his desires with reason, yet there is ever some one defect or other that darkens those Perfections. Wherefore, as Marius bombasted his stockings to give a better proportion to his small legs; if any one would have his good parts set out, he had need to wear some counterfeit disguise to cover his wants, Plut. in vit. and so gull the world, as juno deceived Ixion with a cloud. Truth is, that the worthiest men have been stained with some notable crime. Caesar, though he were moderate, yet was he incontinent: Alexander though continent, yet was he immoderate: Sylla, though valiant, yet was he violent: Cicero. 4. lib. T●s●ul. Galba, though eminent, yet was he insolent: Lucullus generous, yet delicious; Marcellus glorious, yet ambitious; Architas patient, yet avaricious; Archias pregnant, yet lascivious. So as Homer's understanding, 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉. Solonis dict. Plato's wit, Diogenes phrase, Aeschines Art of Oratory, and Cicero's tongue, could not assume to themselves such Perfection, as to free them from other blemishes, which detracted as much from their worth, as these Perfections added to their glory. For howsoever that saying of Solon may seem authentic; All things among men are sound and perfect; it is to be understood that he meant of dealings or * Grata commercia, na●tae gratia: bona consortia, vitae solatia. 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉. 2. Physic. Matth. 5 48. Heb. 6.1. 1 Cor. 1.10. Colloss. 1.28. commerce among good men, whose word is their bond, and whose profession is to deal uprightly with all men. All things among such men are sound and perfect, for no commodity can move them to infringe their faith, or falsify their word for any advantage. But it may be objected, if none can be perfect, whence is it that we read▪ we ought to be perfect as our heavenly Father is perfect? or how is it that Paul exhorteth us to Perfection? or how may we be presented every man perfect in Christ jesus? Surely not of us, nor of ourselves, but through him who became righteousness, and all Perfection for us, that he might perfect that in us, which was far from us, without his especial grace working or operating in us. Yet are we to labour and strive hard towards the mark that is set before us, not ceasing till we become conformable unto him, and be made perfect in him. But become conformable unto him we cannot, unless we take delight in contemplating him, to whom our desire is to be conformed. We will therefore descend to the second branch proposed, to wit, the Contemplative part of Perfection, wherein we shall easily find what divine comfort is ministered to the mind, in contemplating Him, who distinguished Man from the rest of his creatures, by a reasonable mind. IT was the saying of a Heathen, If God took delight in any felicity, it was in contemplation. Of the contemplative part. To the free use whereof, even those which are (as Hortensius called L. Torquatus) unlearned, rude an ignorant, may be admitted. For howsoever some have been pleased to term the Images of Saints, Laymens-Bookes; sure I am, whosoever he be, be he never so simple or ignorant, that contemplateth God in his creatures, shall find sufficient matter, in that voluminous book of his Creation, to move him to admire the work-manship of his Maker. Psal. 89 11. For the heavens are his, the earth also is his; and he hath laid the foundation of the world, and all that therein is. So as, even from the Cedar of Lebanon to the grass upon the wall, hath he shown his power, and his might to the ends of the world. Now to the end this Contemplation might not be hindered by any worldly objects, we are to withdraw our eye from the Creature, and fix it wholly upon our Creator. For how can any one behold the glory of Heaven, when his eyes are poring upon earth; or how should he, whose affections are planted upon his gold, erect his thoughts to the contemplation of God? So as we must not only leave whatsoever we love on earth, but even leave ourselves till we become wholly weaned from earth; so shall our affections be in heaven, though our temporary plantation be on earth. Euclionum animae, Struthionum ●lae. For what are these Ostrich-winged worldings, who never fly up, stooping to every lure that either honour, profit, or preferment cast out, but base Haggards, who lie down and dare not give wing for fear of weathering? Whereas these high fliers, whose aims are above earth, are ever meditating of earth's frailty and heaven's felicity. These consider, how the solace of the captive is one, and the joy of the freeman another. August. These consider, how that he who sighs not while he is a Pilgrim, shall not rejoice when he is a Citizen. These consider, that it is an evident sign that such an one hates his Country, who holds himself to be in good state while he lives a Pilgrim. These will not prefer the husks of vanity before those inestimable treasures of glory. These, and only these, value earth as it should be valued, desiring rather to leave earth, than set their love on aught upon, earth. Neither can death take anything from him going out of the world, Lanspurg. who sets his love on nothing in the world. Whereas it is much otherwise with them, whose eyes are accustomed to darkness; for they cannot behold the beams of that supreme verity: neither can they judge any thing of the light, whose habitation is in darkness: they see darkness, they love darkness, they approve of darkness, and going from darkness to darkness, Aug. S●liloq. cap. 34. they know not whither they fall. Such was Demas, who forsook his faith, and embraced this present world. Such was Simon Magus, who bewitched the people with sorceries, to gain himself esteem in the world. 2 Tim. 4.10. Acts 8.11. Such was Demetrius the Silver-Smith, who brought great gains unto the Craftsmen, and mightily enriched himself in the world. And, Acts 19.25. in a word, such are all those whose eyes are sealed to heavenly Contemplations, but opened to the objects of earth, prising nothing else worthy either viewing or loving. It is rare and wonderful to observe what admirable Contemplations the Heathen Philosophers enjoyed, though not so much as partakers of the least glimpse of that glorious light which is to us revealed! How deeply searching in the influence of Planets, how studious after the knowledge of Herbs, Plants, virtue of Stones, which enforced in them no less admiration, than delight in so sweet a Contemplation? Now if the Heathens, who had no knowledge of God, but only a glimmering light of Nature, being not so much (I say) as the least beamling in comparison of that glorious light which we enjoy, conceived such sweetness in the search of causes and events, preferring their Contemplation before the possession of earth, or all that frail earth could promise; what surpassing comfort or ineffable sweetness are we to conceive in the Contemplation of GOD; the one and only practice whereof maketh man blessed, although in outward things he were the poorest and needfullest in the world? The blessed Saints and faithful servants of GOD have been so ravished with this sweetness, Ignoravi quòd tam suavis, O bone jesus, ●sset tuus amplex●●, tam henestus attactus tuus, tam diliciosus convictus tuus. Bonavent. as they were drunk with joy in Contemplation of the Highest. For either honour or preferment, they were so indifferent, as they rejected it; and for riches so equally contented, as they disvalue it, selling their possessions, and laying the money at the Apostles feet. Yea Peter, to instance one for all, no sooner tasted this sweetness, than forgetful of all inferior things, he cried out as one spiritually drunk, saying; Lord, it is good for us to be here; let us make us here three Tabernacles, let us stay here, let us contemplate thee, because we need nothing else but thee; it sufficeth us, Aug. Soliloq. cap. 22. Lord, to see thee, it sufficeth us, I say, to be filled with such sweetness as cometh from thee. One only drop of sweetness he tasted, and he loathed all other sweetness. What may we imagine would he have said, if he had tasted the multitude of the sweetness of his divinity, which he hath laid up in store for those that fear him? Surely, the contemplative man, Nec inveni● guidlicentius appellandum extstimemus coelum caeli domino quam contemplantem etc. Aug. Med. cap. 19 whose affections are estranged from earth, and seated in Heaven, makes use of whatsoever he seeth on earth, as directions to guide him in his progress to heaven. His eyes are not like the Ambitious man's, whose eyesore is only to see others great, and himself unadvanced: nor like the Covetous man's, whose eyes (Tarpeia-like) betray his soul, seeing nothing precious or prosperous which he wisheth not: nor like the Voluptous man's, whose sealed eyes are blind to the objects of virtue, but unsealed to the objects of vanity, seeing nothing sensually moving which he affects not: nor like the Vainglorious man's, who practiseth seldom what is good or honest for the love of goodness, but to be praised and observed. Whereas the true Contemplative man loves virtue for virtue's sake, concluding divinely with the Poet; This amongst good men hath been ever known, Virtue rewards herself, herselfe's her crown. And for these light objects of vanity, he as much loathes them as the Voluptuous man loves them; and for coveting, he is so far from desiring more than he hath, as he is indifferent either for enjoying or foregoing what he already hath; Vanity has not art to forge that illusion, that may surprise a fixed divine Contemplation. August. Soliloq. cap. 21 and for aspiring, he holds it the best ambition of any creature, to promote the glory of his Maker. He is ever descanting on this divine ditty; God For his thoughts are spheared above earth, and lodged in the Contemplation of heaven. And if so be, that he chance to fix his eye upon earth, it is, as I said before, to direct his feet, and erect his faith to the Contemplation of heaven. For by consideration had to these temporal goods (to use the words of a devout Father) he gathereth the greatness of the heavenly Council: Comprehending by the little ones, those great ones; by these visible, those invisible ones: For if the Lord show, or rather shower so great and innumerable benefits from heaven, and from the air, from the land and sea, light and darkness, heat and shadow, dew and rain, winds and showers, birds and fishes, and multiplicity of herbs and plants of the earth, and the ministry of all creatures successively in their seasons ministering to us, to allay our loathing, and beget in us towards our Maker, an incessant longing, and all this for an ignoble and corruptible body; what, how great, and innumerable shall those good things be, which he hath prepared for them that love him, in that heavenly Country, where we shall see him face to face? If he do such things for us in this prison, what will he do for us in that Palace? Great and innumerable are thy works O Lord, King of heaven! For seeing, all these are very good and delectable, which he hath equally bestowed upon both good and evil: how great shall those be which he hath laid up only for the good? If so divers and innumerable be the gifts, which he bestoweth both upon friends and foes; how sweet and delectable shall those be, which he will only bestow upon his friends? If such comforts in this day of tears and anguish, what will he confer on us in that day of Nuptial solace? If a prison contain such delights, what, I pray you, shall our Country contain? No eye, (O Lord) without thee, hath seen those things which thou hast prepared for them that love thee: for according to the great multitude of thy magnificence, there is also a multitude of thy sweetness, which thou hast hid for them that fear thee: for great thou art, O Lord our God, and unmeasurable, neither is there end of thy greatness, nor number of thy wisdom, nor measure of thy mercy, neither is there end, nor number, nor measure of thy bounty: but as thou art great, so be thy gifts great: because thou thyself art the reward and gift of thy faithful warriors. Thus is the spiritually Contemplative man ever employed, thus are his affections planted, thus his desires seated, caring so little for earth, as he is dead to earth long before he return to earth; drawing daily nearer heaven, having his desire only there, long before he come there. Now to instance some, whose profession was merely contemplative, having retired or sequestered themselves from the society of this world, we might illustrate this subject with many excellent Patterns in this kind, as those especially who strictly professed a monastic life, becoming severe Enemies to their own flesh, and estranging themselves from conversing with man. Which kind of discipline, as it was in respect of humanity too unsociable, so in respect of themselves doubtless, sweet and delightful; being so intranced with divine contemplation, as they forgot earth and all earthly affections. Of this sort, Venire ad Er●mum s●m●● perfectio est. Caesar Ar●latensis. hom. 23. p. 14. Aug. in retract. de Anton. Eremita hoc refert, quem Damescenus p●imum monasticae vitae professorem vocat. Vid. Histor. Barlaam. Vid. Paul. Diaconum. 2 Tim. 6.6.18, 19 Philip. 4.11. you shall read sundry examples; whereof one more memorable than the rest might be instanced in him, who reading that sentence of holy Scripture, Go and sell all that thou hast, presently imagining it to be meant by him, did so. The like contempt towards the world, might be instanced in holy Jerome, Paulinus that good Bishop of Nola, and many others, upon which I would be loath to insist for brevity sake. Neither certainly can they, whose thoughts are erected above the centre of earth, having their Hearts planted where their treasure is placed, deign to fix their eye upon aught in the world, because they see nothing worthy affecting in the World: for they think godliness is a great gain, if a man be content with that he hath. They do good, being rich in good works, and ready to distribute, and communicate; laying up in store for themselves a good foundation against the time to come, that they may obtain eternal life. Yea, they have not only learned in whatsoever state they are, therewith to be content, but wholly to relinquish both self and state to advance the glory of God. But it may be now well objected, that these men whereof we now treat, are fitter for a Cell then a Court, and therefore too regular masters to have young Gentlemen for their Scholars: for how should these, whose education hath been liberty, conversation public society, and who hold good fellowship an appendice to Gentry, betake themselves to such strictness, as to be deprived of common air, live remote from all company, passing the remainder of their days in a wilderness, as if they had committed some egregious fact that deserved such severe Penance? mistake me not, my meaning is much otherwise: for as I would not have Gentlemen Libertines, so I would not have them Hermits; for the first, as they are too prodigally secular, so the latter are too severely regular. Neither am I ignorant how a * Magis resistit ignis ferro quam ligno, sed cum ignis vincat utrumque, inten●ior est calor in ferro quam in ligno. Stell▪ de centemtr. m●nd. Qued tentation● quo●●ndam Sanctorum assimilari potest: Acrius tentationi resis●unt, susceptam tamen al●i●●. retinent. Cloister may be no less shelter unto error, than a more public place of delight or pleasure. But my discourse touching this Contemplative Perfection, was purposely to draw the Curtain from before the Picture, and to show to their eye that fair Idea, or feature which hath been so long shadowed; I mean the fair and beautiful structure of the inward man, which so long as it is darkened with these bleere-eyed Leahs, these objects of vanity cannot enjoy itself, but piecemeal, as it were, divided from itself, seems wholly deprived of life; for a Heart divided cannot live. And what are these objects of vanity, whereon the eye of your Contemplation is usually fixed, but those soule-soiling sores of this Land, Pride and Voluptuousness? With what greediness will a young Gallants eye gaze upon some new or fantastic fashion, wishing (O vain wish!) that he had but the brains to have invented such a fashion, whereby he might have given occasion to others of imitation and admiration? With what insatiableness, will he fix his eye upon some light affected Courtesan, whose raiment is her only ornament, and whose chiefest glory is to set at sale her adulterate beauty? No street, no corner but gives him objects which draws his eye from that choicest object, whereon his whole delight should be seated: No place so obscure, wherein his contemplative part is not on the view of forbidden objects greedily fixed. How requisite then were it for you, young Gentlemen, whose aims are more noble then to subject them to these unworthy ends, to take a view sometimes of such absolute Patterns of Contemplative Perfection, as have excelled in this kind? But because a threefold cord is hardly broken, I will recommend unto your consideration a threefold Meditation, the daily use and exercise whereof may bring you to a more serious view of your own particular estate. First is, the worthiness of the soul; secondly, the unworthiness of earth; thirdly, thankfulness unto GOD, who made man the worthiest creature upon the earth. A threefold Meditation of necessary consequence. Aug. Med. cap. 27. For the first: What is she, and in glory how surpassing is she (to use the selfsame words which an holy Father useth) being so strong, so weak, so small, so great, searching the secrets of God, and contemplating those things which are of GOD, and with her piercing wit is known to have attained the skill of many Arts for humane profit and advantage? What is she, I say, who knoweth so much in other things, and to what end they were made, yet is wholly ignorant how herself was made? A Princess surely; for as a Queen in her Throne, so is the soul in the body; Vita corporis anima, vita animae Deus. being the life of the body, as God is the life of the soul; being of such dignity, as no good, but the Supreme good may suffice it: of such liberty as no inferior thing may restrain it. How then is the soul of such worthiness, August. Manual. cap. ●5. as no exterior good may suffice it, nor no inferior thing restrain it? How comes it then that it stoops to the Lure of vanity, as one forgetful of her own glory? How comes it then to be so fledged in the * Viscus est amor possessionis, affectus cognationis, cupidit a● honoris, & carnis voluptas. Bern. Med. 14. birdlime of inferior delights, as nothing tasteth so well to her palate as the delights of earth? Surely, either she derogates much from what she is, or there is more worthiness on earth, than we hold there is. Having then taken a short view of the dignity or worthiness of the soul; let us reflect a little upon the unworthiness of Earth, and see if we can find her worthy the entertainment of so glorious a Princess. Earth, as it is an heavy element, and inclineth naturally downward, so it keeps the earthly minded Moule from looking upward. There is nothing in it which may satisfy the desire of the outward senses, much less of the inward. Nothing may satisfy the senses, but the divine Essence. For neither is the eye satisfied with seeing, be the object never so pleasing; nor the ear with hearing, be the accent never so moving; nor the palate with tasting, be the cates never so relishing; nor the nose with sm●lling, be the confection never so perfuming; nor the hand with touching, be the Subject never so affecting. And for those sugared pills of pleasure, though sweet, how short are they in continuance, and how bitter, being ever attended on by repentance? And for honours, (those snowballs of greatness) how intricate the ways by which they are attained, and how sandy the foundation whereon they are grounded? How unworthy then is Earth to give entertainment to so princely a guest, Palea ad triticum, siliquae ad panem, c●pae et allia Egypti ad coelestem Mann●m. having nothing to bid her welcome withal, but the refuse and rubbish of uncleanness, the garnish or varnish of lightness? For admit this guest were hungry, what provision had Earth to feed her with, but the Husks of vanity? If thirsty, what to refresh her with, but with Wormwood of folly? If naked, what to clothe her with, but the Cover of mortality? If imprisoned, how to visit her, but with Fetters of captivity? Or if sick, how to comfort her, but with Additions of misery? Since then, the worthiness of the soul is such, as Earth is too unworthy to entertain her, expedient it were that she had recourse to him that made her, and with all thankfulness tender herself unto him, who so highly graced her. Let man therefore in the uprightness of a pure and sincere soul weaned from Earth, and by Contemplation already sainted in heaven, say; What shall I render unto thee, Aug. in Med. cap. 15. O my God, for so great benefits of thy mercy! What praises, or what thanksgiving? For if the knowledge and power of the blessed Angels were present with me to assist me, yet were I not able to render aught worthy of so great piety and goodness, as I have received from thee; yea surely, if all my members were turned into tongues, to render due praise unto thee, in no case would my smallness suffice to praise thee, for thy inestimable charity which thou hast shown to me unworthy one, for thy only love and goodness s●ke, exceedeth all knowledge. Neither is it meet that the remembrance of a benefit should be limited by day or date; No● est 〈◊〉 tempore & die ●●mortam benefi●●● de●●ni●i Cicero. but as the benefits we receive are daily, so should our thankfulness be expressed daily, lest by being unthankful, God take his benefits from us, and bestow them on such as will be thankful. And let this suffice for the Contemplative part of Perfection; descending briefly to that part, which makes the Contemplative truly perfect by Action. WE are now to treat of that, Of the Active part. 〈…〉, nihil ag●●e. Gasper in Hipposit. 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 Gell. Noct Attic. lib. 17. cap. 19 which is easier to discourse of than to find: for men naturally have a desire to know all things, but to do nothing; so easy is the Contemplative in respect of the Active, so hard the Practice in respect of the Speculative. How many shall we observe daily propounding sundry excellent Observations, divine instructions, and Christianlike Conclusions touching contempt of the World, wherein this Active Perfection principally consisteth, yet how far short come they in their own example: so easy it is to propound matter of instruction to others, so hard to exemplify that instruction in themselves! This may be instanced in that Ruler in the Gospel, who avouched his integrity and Perfection, concluding that he had kept all those Commandments which Christ recounted to him, from his youth up: yet when Christ said unto him, Sell all that thou hast and distribute unto the poor, and thou shalt have treasure in heaven, Luke 18.21▪ and come follow me: we read, he was very sorrowful; for he was very rich. So miserable and inextricable is the worldling's thraldom when neither the incertainty of this life, nor those certain promises made unto him, in hope of a better life, can wean him from the blind affection of earth. Necessary therefore it is, that he who desires to attain this Active Perfection, unto which all good men labour, moderate his desires towards such things as he hath not, and address himself to an indifferency of losing those things which he already hath: for he, Multi miseri 〈◊〉 magis 〈…〉 quod amant, quam c●rendo Amando enim res 〈◊〉 miser●, b●be●do sunt misertores. Aug whose desires are extended to more than he enjoys, or who too exceedingly admires what he now enjoys, can never attain that high degree of Active Perfection. The reason is, no man whose content is seated on these external flourishes of vanity, can direct his Contemplation, or erect the eye of his affection to that eternal Sun of verity, whom to enjoy, is to enjoy all true Perfection; and of whom to be deprived, is to taste the bitterness of deepest affliction. Now, how are we to enjoy him? Not by knowledge only, or Contemplation; but by seconding, or making good our knowledge by Action: for we know, that there is a Woe denounced on him, who knoweth the will of his Father and doth it not; when neither his knowledge can plead ignorance, nor want of understanding in the Law of God, simplicity or blindness. We are therefore not only to know, but do; know, lest ignorance should misguide us; do, lest our knowledge should accuse us. Behooveful therefore were it for us to observe that excellent precept of holy Jerome: So live (saith he) that none may have just cause to speak ill of you. Sic vivite, ut nemo de vobis m●lè l●qui abs. que mendacio possit. Hieron. Epist. ad coelum de inflit. matris. Now there is nothing which may procure this good report sooner, than labouring to avoid all means of scandal; as consorting with vicious men whose noted lives bring such in question as accompany them. This was the cause (as I formerly noted) why Saint john would not stay in the Bath with the Heretic C●rinthus. O how many, and with much grief I speak it, have we known in this little Island, well descended, with choicest gifts of nature accomplished, of their own disposition well affected, who by consorting with inordinate men have given reins to liberty, and blasted those fair hopes, which their friends and country had planted on them! how requisite then is it, for every one whose thoughts aim at Perfection, to consort with such as may better him, and not deprave him; inform him, and not corrupt him? For if there be a kind of resemblance betwixt the diseases of the body, and the vices or enormities of the mind; Morbi animi sunt vi●●a. what especial care are we to take, lest by keeping company with those who are already depraved, we become likewise infected? Men would be loath to enter any house that is suspected only to be infected; which if at unawares they have at any time entered, they presently make recourse to the Apothecary to receive some sovereign receipt to expel it. And if men be so afraid lest this house, the body, which like a shaken building menaceth ruin daily should perish, Petrarch. what great respect ought to be had to the soul, which is the guest of the body? Shall corruption be so attended and tendered, and the precious Image of incorruption lessened and neglected? God forbid; specious or gorgeous Sepulchers are not so to be trimmed, that the cost bestowed on them should cause the divine part to be wholly contemned. Two especial memorial recommended to our devoutest meditation. 1. The Author of our Creation. 2. The end of our Creation, Aug. Soliloq. c. 8. To remove which contempt (if any such there be) I will recommend to your devoutest meditation these two particulars. First, who it was that made us: Secondly, for what end he made us: To which two briefly, we intent to refer the Series of this present discourse. For the first, we are to know that no man is his own maker: It is he that made us, who made all things for us, that they might minister unto us and to our necessity, ordaining these for our Service, and himself for our Solace. He it is who hath subjected all things to the feet of man, that man might wholly become subject unto him: yea, and that man might become wholly his, he gave man absolute dominion over all those works of his; creating all outward things for the body, the body for the soul, and the soul for himself. And to what end? Even to this end, that man might only intend him, only love him, possessing him to his Solace, but inferior things to his Service. Aug. Soliloq. Cap. 22. Now, to dilate a little upon this great work of our Creation, we may collect from sacred scripture a fourfold Creation or Generation. The first in Adam, who came neither of man nor woman; the second in Eve, who came of man without woman; the third in Christ, who came not of man but woman; the fourth in us, who came both of man and woman. For the first, as he had from Earth his Creation, so it showed the weakness of his composition, the vileness of his condition, with the certainty of his dissolution. For the second, as she had from man her forming, so it figured their firmness of union, inseparable communion, and inviolable affection. For the third, as he came only of woman, so he promised by the Seed of the woman, to ●ruise the Serpent's head, who had deceived woman, and restore man to the state of grace, from which he had fallen by means of a woman. For the fourth, as we came both from man and woman, so we bring with us into the world that Original sin, which we derive both from man and woman; the sting whereof cannot be rebated, but only through him, who became man borne of a woman. But in this great work of our Creation, we are not to observe so much the matter, as quality and nature of our Creation. For the matter of our Creation, or that whereof we be composed, what is it but vile earth, slime and corruption? So as, howsoever we appear beautiful, specious and amiable in the sight of man, whose eye is fixed on the external part, yet when the oil of our Lamp is consumed, and we to dust and ashes reduced, we shall observe no better inscription than this; Ecce pulchrum ac pretiosum lipidem putre ca●●ver tegentem! Gasp. in Her●clit. Plato. Behold a specious and a precious shrine covering a stinking corpse! Wherefore ought we to observe the internal part, and the especial glory we receive by it: for hereby are we distinguished in the quality of our Creation, from all other creatures, who govern their actions by Sense only, and not by Reason. Hence it was, that that divine Philosopher gave God thanks for three special bounties conferred on him: First was, For that God had created him a reasonable creature, and no brute beast; Second, For creating him a man and no woman; Third, For that he was a Grecian, and no Barbarian. This it was which moved that blessed and learned Father Saint Augustine to break out into this passionate rhapsody of spirit: Aug. ●●liloq. cap. 9 Thy hand could (O Lord) have created me a stone, or a Bird, or a Serpent, or some brute beast: and this it knew, but it would not for thy goodness sake. This it was which forced from that devout and zealous Father this emphatical discourse, or intercourse rather, with God; who upon a time walking in his garden, and beholding a little worm creeping and crawling upon the ground, 〈…〉. A●sel. presently used these words; Dear Lord, thou mightst have made me like this Worm, and crawling despicable creature, but thou wouldst not, and it was thy mercy that thou wouldst not; O, as thou hast ennobled me with the Image of thyself, make me conformable to thyself, that of a worm I may become an Angel; of a vassal of sin, a vessel of Zion; of a shell of corruption, a Star of glory in thy heavenly mansion. And in truth, there is nothing which may move us to a more serious consideration of God's gracious affection towards us, than the very Image which we carry about us: preferring us not only before all the rest of his creatures in sovereignty and dominion, but also in an amiable similitude, feature, and proportion; whereby we become not only equal, but even superior unto Angels, Aug. S●liloq. cap. 8. because Man was God, and God Man, and no Angel. To whom are we then to make recourse to, as the Author of our Creation, save God, whose hand hath made and fashioned us, whose grace hath ever since directed and prevented us, and whose continued love (for whom he loveth, he loveth unto the end) hath ever extended itself in ample manner towards us? How frivolous then and ridiculous were their opinions, who ascribed the Creation of all things to the Elements; as Anaxim●nes to the piercing Air; Hippeas to the fleeting Water; Zeno to the purifying Fire; Zenophanes to the lumpish Earth? How miserable were these blinded, & how notably evinced by that learned Father, who speaking in the persons of all these Elements, and of all other his good creatures, proceedeth in this sort? I took my compass, (saith he, speaking to God) in the survey of all things, Aug. Soliloq. cap. 31. seeking thee, and for all things relinquishing myself. I asked the Earth if it were my god, & it said unto me that it was not, and all things in it confessed the same. I asked the Sea, and the depths, and the creeping things in them, and they answered, we are not thy god, seek him above us. I asked the breathing Air, and the whole Air, with all the inhabitants thereof made answer, Anaximenes is deceived, I am not thy God. I asked the Heaven, Sun, Moon and Stars: neither are we thy god, answered they. And I spoke to all these who stand about the gates of my flesh, tell me what you know concerning my god, tell me something of him: and they cried out with a great voice, He made us. Then I asked the whole Frame and fabric of this World, tell me if thou be my god: and it answered with a strong voice, I am not, said it, but by him I am, whom thou seekest in me; he it was that made me, seek him above me, who governeth me, who made me. The interrogation of the creatures is the profound consideration of them, and their answer the witness they bear of God, because all things cry, God hath made us: for as the Apostle saith, the invisible things of God are visible to be understood by those things which are made, by the creatures of the world. Rom. 1, 20. Thus we understand the Author of our Creation, of whom seriously to meditate, and with due reverence to contemplate, is to die to all earthly cogitations, which delude the sinne-be-lulled soul with extravagancies. And let this suffice for the first Memorial or Consideration, to wit, who it was that made us; we are now to descend to the second particular, which is, for what end he made us. He who rested not till h● had composed and disposed in an absolute order of this Universe, The end of our Creation. proposed us an example that we should imitate: So long as we are Pilgrims here on earth, so long as we are Sojourners in this world, we may not enjoy our spiritual Sabbath; we may stay a little and breath under the Cross, after the example of our best Master, but rest we may not. For what end then did he make us? That we might live such lives as may please him, and die such deaths as may praise him; lives blameless and unreprovable; lives sanctified throughout, pure without blemish, fruitful in example, plentiful in all holy duties, and exercised in the works of charity; that he who begetteth in us both the Will and the Work, may present us blameless at his coming. Now, that our lives may become acceptable unto him, to whose glory they ought to be directed, we are in this Tabernacle of clay to address ourselves to those studies, exercises and labours, which may benefit the Church or Commonwealth, ministering matter unto others of imitation, to our souls of consolation, & in both to God's name of glorification: wherein appeareth a main difference betwixt the Contemplative and Active part: for sufficient it is not to know, acknowledge and confess the divine Majesty; to dispute or reason upon high points touching the blessed Trinity; to be wrapped up to the third heaven (as it were) by the wings of Contemplation; but to address ourselves to an actual performance of such offices and peculiar duties, as we are expressly enjoined by the divine Law of God. Our Lord in the Gospel, Luke. 11.27.28. when the woman said, Blessed is the womb that bore thee, and the breasts that gave thee suck: Answered, Yea rather blessed are they that hear the word of God, and keep it. And when one of the jews told him that his mother and brethren stood without, desiring to speak with him; Matth. 12.47, 48, 49, 50. He answered, and said unto him that told him, Who is my mother? and who are my brethren? And stretching forth his hand toward his Disciples, he said, Behold my mother and my brethren: For whosoever shall do the will of my Father which is in heaven, the same is my brother, and sister, V●d. Aegid. in hunc locum. Feria Quart. & Quint. Hebd. Prim. and mother. It is not knowledge then, but practise which presents us blameless before God. Therefore are we exhorted to work out our salvation with fear and trembling. Not to idle out the time in the marketplace, as such who make their life a repose or cessation from all labours, studies, or virtuous intendments. Of which sort those are, (and too many of those there are) who advanced to great fortunes by their provident Ancestors, imagine it a Task worthy men of their places to pass their time in pastime, and employ their days in an infinite consumption of misspent hours, Nec proderunt hîc divitiae divitibus, nec parentes filiis, nec Angeli ipsi proderunt. Chrysost. Ille judex nec gratia praevenitur, misericordia jam flectitur, nec pecunia corrunspitur, nec satisfactione vel poena mitigabitur. August. for which they must be accomptants in that great Assize, where neither greatness shall be a subterfuge to guiltiness, nor their descent plead privilege for those many hours they have misspent. O how can they answer for so many vain and fruitless pleasures, which they have enjoyed, and with all greediness embraced in this life? Many they shall have to witness against them, none to answer for them: for their Stoves, Summer-arbours, Refectories, and all other places wherein they enjoyed the height of delight, shall be produced against them, to tax them of sensual living, and witness against them their small care of observing the end for which they were made. O Gentlemen, you whose hopes are promising, your more excellent endowments assuring, and yourselves as patterns unto others appearing, know that this Perfection whereof we now entreat, is not acquired by idling or sensual delighting of yourselves in carnal pleasures, which darken and eclipse the glory or lustre of the soul, but in labouring to mortify the desires of the flesh, which is ever levying and levelling her forces against the spirit! Now this Mortification can never be attained by obeying, but resisting and impugning the desires of the flesh. Wherefore, the only means to bring the flesh to perfect subjection, Singular precepts of Mortification. is to cross her in those delights which she most affecteth. Doth she delight in sleep and rest? keep her waking; takes she content in meats and drinks? keep her craving; takes she solace in company? use her to privacy and retiring; takes she liking to ease? inure her to labouring: Briefly, in whatsoever she is delighted, let her be always thwarted; so shall you enjoy the most rest, when she enjoys the least. Hence it was that Saint Jerome, that excellent pattern of holy discipline, counselleth the holy Virgin Demetrias, to eschew idleness: Hieron. ad Demet. exhorting her withal, that having done her prayers, she should take in hand wool and weaving, after the commendable example of Dorcas, Act 9.39. that by such change or variety of works, the day might seem less tedious, and the assaults of Satan less grievous. Neither did this divine Father advise her to work, because she was in poverty, or by this means to sustain her family; for she was one of the most noble and eminent women in Rome, and richest; wherefore her want was not the cause which pressed him to this exhortation, but this rather, that by this occasion of exercising herself in these laudable and decent labours, she should think of nothing, but such as properly pertained unto the service of God: which place he concluded in this manner. I speak generally, Ibid. prope finem. no raiment, ornament, or habit whatsoever, shall seem precious in Christ's sight; but that which thou makest thyself, either for thine own peculiar use, or example of other Virgins, or to give unto thy grandmother, or thy mother, no, though thou distribute all thy goods unto the poor. See how expressly this no●le woman was enjoined to her task, that by intending herself to labour, she might give less way unto error. Certainly, as man's extremity is God's opportunity, so the Devil's opportunity is man's security: we are then principally to take heed, lest we give way to the incursion of Satan, by our security of life and conversation. And what is it that begetteth this security, but Idleness, which may be termed, and not improperly, the Souls Lethargy? Idleness begetteth security, properly termed the Souls Lethargy Parum est le ger●, ●ur ●o●igere; sed intell gear & in formam red● g●re, hoc artis, hoc laboris est. Casman. For nothing can be more opposite to this Actual Perfection, than re● or vacancy; we say, virtue consisteth in Action, how then may we be said to be favourers, followers, or furtherers of virtue, when we surcease from Action, which is the life, light, and subsistence of virtue? Wherefore, as it is little to read or gather, but to understand and to reduce, to form what we read, gather or understand; for this is the ornament of Art, the argument of labour: so it is little or to no purpose, that we know, conceive or apprehend, unless we make a fruitful use of that knowledge by serious practice, to the benefit of ourselves and others. I have known divers Physicians, some whereof were of great practice, but small reading; others of great reading, but small practice; and I have heard sundry men of sufficient judgement confidently aver, that in cases of necessity they had rather hazard their lives in the hand of the Practice than Theoric: and their reason was this; though the Practice had not exercised himself in the perusal of books, he had gained him experience in the practice of cures; and that the body of his patient was the only book within his Element. To which assertion I will neither assent, nor wholly descent; for as he that practiseth before he know, may sooner kill than cure; so he who knoweth, and seldom or never practiseth, must of necessity, to get him experience, kill before he cure. But sure I am, that many ignorant Laymen, whose knowledge was little more than what nature bestowed on them, by means of regular discipline, and powerful subduing of their own affections, Vid. Histor. Barlaam. Aug. in retract. have become absolute men; being such as reached to as high a pitch of Actual Perfection, as ever the learned'st or profoundest man in the world attained: for it is neither knowledge nor place, but the free gift of God's grace, which enableth the spiritual man to this Perfection. Bernard. Now, forasmuch as not to go forward, is to go backward; and that there be two Solstices in the Sun's motion, but none in times revolution, or in a Christians progression; the only means to attain this Actual Perfection, at least some small measure or degree therein, is every night to have our Ephemerideses about with us, A Christians Ephemerideses examining ourselves what we have done that day; how far we have profited, wherein benefited our spiritual knowledge. Again, wherein have we reform our life, or expressed our love to Christ by communicating to the necessity of his Saints. By which means, we shall in short time observe what remains unreformed; esteeming it the sweetest life, every day to better our life. But principally, are we to look to our affections which rise and rage in us; and, like the Snake in the fable, pester and disturb the inner house of man: for these are they, Basil. which (as Saint Basil saith) rise up in a drunken man, (drunk I mean with all spiritual fornication) like a swarm of Bees buzzing on every side. When the affections of men are troubled, they change them like Circe's cups, Plutarch. in Moral. from men to beasts. Neither is it so ill to be a beast, as for man to live like a beast. O then, let us have an eye to our affections; let them be planted, where they may be duly seasoned! Earth makes them destastefull; let them be fixed then in heaven, the only thought whereof will cause them to be delightful. And to conclude this branch; it will not be amiss for us, to counterpoise our affections (if we find them at any time irregular) with weights of contrary nature; as if we find ourselves naturally affected to Pride (that Luciserian sin) to counterpoise it with motives of Humility; Revel. 9.1. as the vileness of our condition, baseness of our composition, and weakness of our constitution: or naturally inclined to Covetousness (that Mammon's sin) to give, Coloss. 3.5. though the gift afflict us, liberally, that our forced bounty may in time wean us from our inbred misery: 1 King. 21.4.16. Luke 19.8. if of grating oppression, or grinding extortion (that Ahabs sin) let us make restitution with good Zacheus, and though we cannot do it so frankly as he did, yet let us do it as freely as we may; that our restitution may in some sort answer for our former oppression: Luke 16.19. if of excess in fare and gluttony (that Dives sin) let us so moderate our delight in feeding, that our delight may be to sustain Nature, and not oppress her with exceeding: 2 Sam. 13.2. if of Lust or sensuality (that Ammon's sin) where that sin may abound, the Sense is obeyed, let us subject all our delights to the government of reason, and reason to the sovereignty of grace, that the flesh may be resisted in what it most affecteth, and in that seconded, wherein it least delighteth: Gen. 3.1. & ●7. 4. Gen. 4.5. Prov. 26.15. if of Envy, (that Serpentine sin) let us entertain brotherly love, for Envy can bear no sway where Love reigneth: if of Wrath (that cain's sin) embrace Patience; so shall Fury be suppressed, where Patience is lodged: if of Sloth, (the Sluggards sin) let us inure ourselves to some Exercise that may most delight us, so in time we may become exercised in Tasks of greater difficulty: being first from Sloth weaned, afterwards to greater labours enured. Thus to fight were to vanquish; thus to enter lists, were to reap spiritual solace; for through him should we triumph, who sees us fight, cheers us failing, and crownes us conquering. And this shall suffice to have been spoken of the Active part of Perfection, purposing according to our former method, to compare the Contemplative and Active together; the parts or properties of both which, being duly examined, it shall more plainly appear how the Active is to be preferred. IT is a barren faith, The Active part preferred. we say, that is not attended on by good works; and no less fruitless is that knowledge which is exercised only in Contemplation, and never in Action. We are therefore with Elizeus to have a double spirit; a spirit that as well doth, as teacheth, not only a proffering of words, Agapetus. but also an offering of works. So as, it is not breathing or moving, or talking, which argue a spiritual life, but abounding plentifully in all holy duties, expressing those effectual and powerful fruits of a living faith by works of charity and obedience, which may any way tend to the glorifying of God, edifying our neighbour, or conforming ourselves to him, Bern. de inter. domo. c. 1. whose Image we bear. Now, as there is no comfort comparable to the testimony of a good conscience, being that inseparable companion which shall attend us to glory or confusion, so there is no punishment, Nicet as. Nazi●nzen, Ambros. epist. 70. torment or affliction so grievous as shame, which deriveth the cause, ground, and beginning, either from doing that which we ought not, or from not doing that which we ought: as the comfort we reap from the testimony of a good conscience, deriveth properly the primary cause and effect from doing that which we ought, and abstaining from doing that which we ought not. And what be those works which are principally commended unto us, but works of charity and devotion? For to our own souls (saith a devout Father) shall we be right acceptable and grateful, A●imae tuae gratum ●eceris si misericors fueris, Bern, de modo bene vivandi. Nil magis commendat Christianum animum etc. Ambros. ●. Tim. pag. 8. Tract. 5. in johan. Dives factus est prop●er pauperem, & pauper propter divitem; pauperis est r●g●re, divitis erogore, August. He preacheth best, Qui dieit non lingua sed vità. Aug ser. 18. de verb. Dom. if we compassionate the estate of our poor brother, by being merciful: yea, there is nothing that commendeth more a Christian man, or argueth a Christianlike affected mind, then to show compassion to those that are afflicted. For in this there is a resemblance betwixt the Creature and Creator, loving, as he himself loved; showing compassion, as he showed. O let me commend this so commendable and generous a quality, to your admittance, Gentlemen! for believe me, there is no one property that shall better accomplish you, no armoury that may more truly deblazon you: for it is a badge of Gentry to show compassion towards misery. What profit shall you reap, if having only superficially read some Treatise tending to the comfort of such as either in body afflicted, or in mind perplexed, or in both distressed; if you apply not these directions of comfort to them thus miserably dejected? What reward, I say, shall you receive, upon the account by you given, of the Sick which you have visited; when having known how to comfort men in their affliction, you have not ministered the least comfort to them in their visitation? Or when you shall be demanded, where are the hungry which you have refreshed, the thirsty whose thirst you have quenched, the naked whom you have clothed, the miserable oppressed soul, whose case you have not only pitied but redressed? And you shall answer, how you did indeed visit them, but minister small comfort unto them; you knew them to be oppressed, and the way to redress them, but other occasions detained you, as you could not relieve them; Nay rather, have you not added wormwood to their affliction? Have you not surfeited in their suffering, fattened yourselves in their famishing, and raised your states by their ruin? Were not your tables stored, when they were starved; did not you feast, when they fasted; did it not affect you to see them afflicted? If at any time you felt this in yourselves, let the doleful remembrance thereof produce torrents of tears from your distreaming eyes; supply your manifold misdeeds with many almsdeeds; your transgressions with compassions; your oppression with fourfold restitution; that your sin may no more be had in remembrance: yea, let me use that exhortation to you, which a learned Father used upon like occasion, Let charity smite your bowels; Charitas vis●●ra tua percu●iat. August. see not the Image of your Redeemer disgraced, but forthwith labour to right him; see him not oppressed, but to your power redress him; see him not starve, if you have bread to relieve him; or thirsty, if you have drink to refresh him; or naked, if you have a garment to clothe him; or in any sort distressed, if you have means to succour him. Oh consume not that on prodigality, which might procure the prayers of many poor souls for you! Vta Christo accepimus beneficium, praesiemus Christi●●● officium, praebendo membris Christ● hospirium their prayers are your praises; their morning and evening sacrifice, way marks to direct you unto Paradise: take heed than you offend none of these Little ones, but cheer them; be not as thorns in their eyes, or pricks in their sides, but minister all necessary comfort unto them. Now, if this appear a matter of difficulty, pretending that the supportance of your state exacts so much of you, as you can reserve nothing to exhibit upon these works of charity; hear me whosoever thou be that makest this objection: Provocaris Chri●●iane, provocaris à vidua in certamen. August. 1 Kin. 17.15. Be provoked, O Christian, be provoked by the widow of Sarepta to this encounter! Encounter I call it, because the flesh suggests sundry occasions to avert thee from it. That charitable Widow though she had but a little meal, she imparted of that little to a Prophet; though she had but a little oil, yet she freely bestowed it to refresh a Prophet. The woman of Samaria, when JESUS said unto her, Give me to drink, answered; How is it that thou being a jew, askest drink of me, john 4.7, 9 which am a woman of Samaria? Sundry such like answers will flesh and blood make, to dispense with works of charity; or like the answer of churlish Nabal; Who is David, and who is the son of Ishai? There be many servants now adays, that break away every man from his master: Shall I then take my bread, and my water, and my flesh which I have killed for my hearers, and give it unto men, whom I know not whence they be? O let not these objections divert the current of thy compassion! Eye not so much his Country, whether neighbour borne, or a stranger, as his Countenance, the express Image of thy Saviour. But to descend to some reasons, why the Active part of Perfection is to be preferred before the Contemplative, this amongst others is the most effectual and impregnable. In that great day of Account, when the sealed book of our secretest sins shall be unsealed, our privatest actions discovered, our closest and subtlest practices displayed, and the whole inside of man uncased; Eo d●e in quo ratio reddetur, quid fecimus, non quid ●ovimus, quaeretur. it shall not be demanded of us, what knew we, but what did we. Fitting therefore it were to prefer Action before knowledge in this life, being so infallibly to be preferred after this life. Howbeit greater is their shame, and sharper (doubtless) shall be their censure, whose education in all Arts divine and humane hath enabled them for discourse, fitted or accommodated them for managements public or private; yet they, giving reins to liberty, invert their knowledge to depraved ends; either making no use of such noble and exquisite endowments, or which is worse, employing them to the satisfaction of their own illimited desires. O happy had these been, if they had never known the excellency of learning, for ignorance is to be preferred before knowledge loosely perverted ● Yea but, Object. will some object, I cannot see how any one should observe a Law before they know it; wherefore, as I think, Knowledge is to be preferred, because by Knowledge is Action directed. It is true indeed, Sol. Knowledge directs and instructs, for otherwise we should grope in darkness; neither do I exclude all Knowledge, but admit so much as may instruct man sufficiently in matters of faith, put him in remembrance of Heaven, whose joys are ineffable; of Hell, whose pains are intolerable; of the last judgement, whose sentence is irrevocable. So as I exclude only this gross ignorance, or blind Paganism, for to these is the way to heaven closed, because they are divided from that light, without which the celestial way cannot be discerned. Whereas then I have so much insisted heretofore upon the contemplative part of Perfection, my aim was to show how those, who continued in a Contemplative and solitary life, sequestering themselves from the cares and company of this world, doubtless conceived ineffable comfort in that sweet retirement; yet in regard they lived not in the world, the world was not bettered by their example. But in this Active Perfection, where the Active part no less than Contemplative is required, we intent those who do not only know, but do; and in the Actions of this life, use to make their Light so shine before men, that they may see their good works. Luke 5.16. Object. Yea, but it may be again objected, All sins be properly called 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, and bear the name of ignorance: how then may we exclude any knowledge? Sol. Every Sin indeed implies an ignorance of the creature towards the Creator; which ignorance imports rather a forgetfulness. For admit a man should steal, commit perjury, or any such act contrary to the express will and commandment of GOD; it were to be imagined, that this breach or transgression of the divine Law, proceeded not of ignorance: for he could not choose but know, that consent to any of these incurred the breach of his Law: but rather it may be said, he had not God before his eyes, but out of a wilful forgetfulness, violated the ordinances of God. The Active preferred before the Contemplative for two respects. But to conclude this Branch in a word, the Active is to be preferred before the Contemplative, for two respects: The first, whereof hath relation to ourselves: The second to others. To ourselves, having account to make for the Actions of our life, how we have employed or bestowed those Talents which he hath lent us; what use, profit, or benefit we have made of them; in what spiritual affairs have we been exercised, in what holy duties trained! Have we not preferred private profit before the testimony of a good conscience? Have we not laboured to enhance our means by sinister and indirect courses? Have we not withdrawn our hand from relieving our needful brother, or defrauded the labourer of his wages? Have we not consorted with the evil doer, and encouraged him in his sin? Have we not hindered some pious work tending to the honour of God, and imitable for example of others? Have we propagated the Gospel, comforted Zion when she mourned, repaired those breaches which were in her, and received those in peace which blessed her? Have we only sought the kingdom of God, and the righteousness thereof; esteemed godliness to be great riches; left ourselves and all, to be followers of him who gave us dominion over all? If we have done this, as we are here in the Alpha of grace, we shall be there in the Omega of glory: here initiate, there consummate: but having known the will of our Father, and done it not; read principles or instructions of a good life, and observed them not; conversant in deep mysteries, and applied them not; studied in all Arts and Sciences, and practised them not; how miserable is our knowledge, pronouncing on us a heavier judgement! Wherefore in respect of ourselves, whether our knowledge be great or little, if our conversation be not in heaven, though our habitation, during our Pilgrimage be on earth, our knowledge is but as a tinkling Cymbal, and shall smally avail us before the high Tribunal. For knew we the power and virtue of all creatures, of all plants and vegetive bodies, from the Cedar of Lebanon, to the Hyssop upon the wall, yet were this knowledge fruitless, being not seconded by a life conformable to that knowledge. §. Secondly, in respect of others; Action is the life of man, and example the direction of this life. How much then do such men prejudice those who live in the world, that betake themselves to a private or retired life, estranged from humane society, and ending their days in some solitary cave, as men divided from the world! For howsoever their manner of life be religious, their discipline strict and rigorous, and in their devotion fervent and zealous; yet they deprive others of the benefit, which they might reap by their example. Gaspar. in Heraclito. c. 2. Mundum ex animo prius fugare, quam mundum fugere. Wherefore most safe and sure it is (to use the words of a judicious Author) for those who have a desire to take upon them a solitary life, to retire and withdraw their affections before they withdraw their bodies from the world, and to force the world to fly from their mind, before they fly the world; lest going out of the world, they carry about with them the world. For as he may live ill, who liveth apart from the society of men; even so, though they fly not into the wilderness, yet may they fly the world, and amidst the crowd of people live solitarily by an inward Contemplation of the supernal glory; and in midst of a clamorous Court confer with themselves, and converse with God: in the mean time, whatsoever they know or can do▪ that may any way tend to the common-good, benefit or utility of humane society, Nec divinitùs accepium talentum in terram defodore. ibid. to effect it accordingly, and not bury that talon in the ground, which they have received from above; which rule they are to observe after the example of the most holy and excellent men of both Orders, Ecclesiastical (I say) and Secular. Thus far have we proceeded in the examination or discussion of these two especial parts of Perfection, Contemplative and Active; wherein by manifest and infallible arguments we have proved, how the Active part is to be preferred, both in respect of ourselves and others; because a life well acted shall minister most comfort to ourselves, besides that light of example which it yields unto others. Now as the Active is preferred, it resteth that we show you wherein this Active part of Perfection consisteth; which discovered, that whereof we treat, and would gladly find, may be the sooner attained. THere is no building, Wherein the Active part of Perfection consisteth. which as it relies on a foundation, consists not of some material composition; no body but it consists of nerves, arteries or sinews, which cement the lineaments together; nor confection which consists not of some simples, for otherwise it were not mixed, but simple and uncompounded. The like may be said of this choice and exquisite Confection, this Active part (I mean) of Perfection. For as all Rivers tend to the Sea, to make one Ocean; all Creatures to make one Universe; so all Virtues aim at Perfection; which once attained, they surcease from action. Now in this discourse of Active perfection, the period of Man, we do not mean of that absolute perfection or accomplishment, which admitteth no blemish or imperfection; for we are to seek that above us, not below us; for our righteousness, justice and Perfection is such in this life, as it rather consisteth in the remission of sins, than Perfection of virtues. Yea, Aug. de Civit. Dei. l. 19 cap. 27. we sin daily, so as properly we can attribute nothing to our own strength but weakness, to our own ability but infirmnesse, to our resolves but uncertainnesse, to our wills but untowardness, to our affections but depravedness, nor to the whole progresie of our lives but actual disobedience. But rather (I say) we mean of that Christian Perfection, which every one in this Tabernacle of clay is to labour for; that we may become perfect through him who became weak that we might be strengthened, hungry that we might be nourished, thirsty that we might be refreshed, disgraced that we might be honoured; yea, who became all unto all, that by all means he might gain some. Active Perfection consisteth in Mortification of action and affection. But wherein may this actual perfection be properly said to consist? In Mortification; which like the swift gliding torrent of Hydaspes, divides or dilates itself to two channels; Action, and Affection: Action in expressing it; Affection in desiring to express it: Action in suffering, Affection in desire of suffering. The one actuating no less in will, than the other in work. Where the Action being more exemplar, and in that more fruitful, gives precedency to Affection, which concurres with the act to make the work more graciously powerful. For, where a work of Mortification is performed, and a hearty desire or affection to that work is not adjoined, that Action may be properly said to be enforced, rather than out of a free or willing disposition accepted. Now this twofold Mortification extends itself properly to these three Subjects; Mortification extends itself in a threefold respect, to these three distinct subjects. Life, Name, Goods. Life, which even Humanity tendereth; Name, which a good man before the sweetest odours preferreth; Goods, on which the worldling, as on the supreme good, lieth. For the first, many excellent and memorable examples of sundry devout and constant servants of Christ jesus, are in every place frequent and obvious; who for the confirmation of their faith, and the testimony of a good conscience, 1. Life. 2. Name. 3. Goods. Mortification in our disesteem of Life. joyfully and cheerfully laid down their lives, esteeming it an especial glory to be thought worthy to suffer for him, who with all constancy suffered, to become an example of patience to them: which were easy to illustrate by the sufferings of many eminent and glorious Martyrs. Prudentius writeth, that when Ascl●piades commanded the tormentors to strike R●manus on the mouth, the meek Martyr answered; I thank thee, O Captain, that thou hast opened unto me many mouths, whereby I may preach my Lord and Saviour: Tota ecce laudant ora, quot sunt vulnera: Look how many wounds I have, so many mouths I have to praise and laud the Lord. Ignatius words were these, to witness his constancy at the time of his suffering: Frumentum sum Christi, Iren. advers. haeres lib. 5. cap. 28. & per dentes bestiarum molor, ut mundus panis Dei inveniar. I am Christ's corn, and must be ground by the teeth of wild beasts, that I may become pure manchet for the Lord. It is reported that blessed Laurence, being laid upon the Gridiron, used these words to his Tormentors: Turn and eat, it is enough. Saint Andrew, when he went to be crucified, was so rapt with joy, as he rejoiced unmeasurably in that blessed resemblance of his Master's death. Blessed Bartholomew willingly lost his skin for his sake, who had his skin scourged, that he might be solaced. john drank a cup of poison, to pledge his Master in a cup of affliction. Thus Laurence's Gridiron, Andrew's Cross, Bartholomew's Skin, john's Cup, expressed their Mortification, by a willing surrender of their life for his sake who was the Lord of life: Yea, should we survey those strange invented torments, during the bloody issue of the ten Persecutions, which were contrived by those inhuman Assassinate's, whose hands were deeps died in the blood of the Saints, Euseb. i● Eccl. Hisp. we should no less admire the constancy of the persecuted suffering, than the cruelty of the Persecutors infesting: What racks, hooks, harrows, tongs, forks, stakes were purposely provided to torment the constant and resolute Professors of the truth, wearying the tormentors rather with tormenting, than abating any part of their constancy in the height and heat of their tormenting! Ruff●nus l. 10. hist. cap. 36. Yea, they were solaced in the time when they suffered; esteeming * Infoelix multis theta est, mihi litera f●elix. Si 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 scribit, scribit & illa 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉. death to be such a passage, as might give them convoy to a more glorious heritage. Neither did these blessed Professors of the faith, receive comfort by the eye of their meditation firmly fixed on heaven, but by the compassion and princely commiseration of divers eminent ad victorious Emperors bearing sovereignty then on earth. Constantine the Great used to kiss the eye of Paphnutius which was bored out in Maximinas time. The like noble and princely compassion we read to have been showed by Titus, Trajan, Theodosius, and many other Princes graciously affected towards the poor afflicted and persecuted Christians: Yea, God moved the hearts of those, who naturally are most remorseless or obdurate, in commiserating the estate of his afflicted. Act. 16.33. Which may appear by the Jailor in the Acts, who washed Saint Paul's stripes and wounds. O how comfortable were these passions or passages of affliction, these tortures or torments, the trophies of their persecution; the blessed memorial whereof shall extend the date of time, receiving a crown of him, who is the length of days! Plin. l. 8. c. 32. So, as King Alexander's Stags were known and hundred years together by those golden collars, which by the King's commandment were put about their necks; or as King Arthur's body being taken up some what more than six hundred years after his death, was known to be his by nothing so much, as by the prints of ten several wounds which appeared in his skull; so these glorious stamps of their passion, shall appear as trophies to them in the day of exaltation; because, as they lost their lives for the testimony of the Gospel, they shall find them recorded in the book of life, receiving the crown of consolation, for the deep draught which they took of the cup of affliction. And reason there is, we should dis-value our lives for the profession of our faith, Aug. Tract. 49. in johan. since forlorn and miserable is his life, that is without faith. For if the Heathen, whose future hopes were fixed on posterity, and not so much as the least knowledge of eternity, dis-esteemed their lives to gain them renown, or propagate their country's glory; much more cause have we to subject our lives to the censure of death, having hope after death to live in glory. It is reported, that the body of Cadwallo, an ancient King of the Britain's, being embalmed and dressed with sweet confections, Hollins●ed. was put into a brazen image, and set upon a brazen horse over Ludgate, for a terror to the Saxons: and Zisca, the valiant Captain of the Bohemians, commanded that after his decease his skin would be flayed from his body, to make a drum, which they should use in their battles, affirming that as soon as the Hungarians, or any other Enemies, should hear the sound of that drum, they would not abide but take their flight. This moved Scipio to appoint his Sepulchre to be so placed, as his image standing upon it, might look directly towards Africa, that being dead, he might still be a terror to the Carthaginians. If respect of Pagans to their Country, or an eye to popular glory did so inflame them, as their Country's love exceeded their love of life, surviving in their death, and leaving monuments of their affection after death; how lightly are we to value the glory of this life, if the loss thereof may advance our Father's glory, Cyprian. Con●rarii sunt illis factiosi haeretici, quorum conscientiae usque adeò sunt amplae, ut in illis civitatem decem millium civium aedificare possis, quemadmodum quid●m Magnum Alexandrum depinxit. Aegid. in 1. Thess. 5. Tertul. lib. 4. cont. Marcionist. or aught tending to the conversation of this life; being assured by him, whose promises fail not, by such a small loss to gain eternity? Now, as it is not the death, but the cause of the death which makes the Martyr; we are to know, that to die in the maintenance of any heretical opinion is Pseudo-martyrdom● for howsoever those Arians, Manichees and Pelagians; those Macedonians, Eutichees and Nestorians; yea, generally all Heretics were constant and resolute enough in seconding and maintaining their erroneous opinions; yet forasmuch as the cause for which they contended was Heresy, tend it might to their confusion, but never to their glory: for as honeycombs (saith learned Tertullian) are by Wasps composed, so are Churches by the Marcionists (and consequently by all Heretics) disposed: in whose Synodals or conventicles, many thousands are perverted, none converted, or to the Church of Christ faithfully espoused. Whereas Truth, which may be pressed, but not oppressed; assailed, but never soiled, like the green Bay-tree in the midst of hoary winter, or a fresh Spring in the sandy desert, appears most glorious, when her adversaries are most malicious; bearing ever a countenance most cheerful, when her assailants are most dreadful. Neither only in this glorious act of Martyrdom, but in all inferior works, the affection of the mind, In omnibus quae egimus, finem intenti onis, m●gis quam actum operationis intendit. Aug. Soliloq. c. 14. as well as the action of the man, is to be considered: for God himself, who hath an eye rather to the intention than action, will not approve of a good work done, unless it be well done. As for example; when the Pharisee fasted, prayed, gave alms, and paid tithe of all that he possessed, he did good works, but he did not those good works well: the reason was, he exalted himself in his works, without attributing praise unto him, who is the beginner and perfecter of every good work: for his fasts were hypocritical & not of devotion, Luke. 18.14. his prayers ineffectual, because they sounded of Ostentation; his alms unacceptable, because exhibited only for observation; and his tithes abominable, being given to colour his secret oppression: for which cause did our Saviour pronounce a woe upon them, saying, Woe unto you pharisees; for ye tithe Mint and Rue, and all manner of herbs, and pass over judgement and the love of God: these ought ye to have done, Luk. 11.42. and not to leave the other undone. Whence it appears, that the work itself was approved, but the manner of doing it reproved; for that they preferred the tithing of Mint and Rue, before the judgement and love of God; so they preferred it, as the one was performed, while the other of more serious and consequent importance was omitted. Whence we are cautioned, that in our works of Mortification, we do nothing for any sinister or by-respect; but only for the glory of God, to whom, as all our Actions are properly directed, so are they to have relation only unto him, if we desire to have them accepted. Is it so, that this Actual Perfection is to be acquired by Mortification, wherein is required not only the action but affection? And that we are even to lay down our lives, if the cause so require, to promote the glory of our Maker? Tell me then, Gentleman, how far have ye proceeded in this spiritual progress? Have ye unfeignedly desired to further the honour of God, repair the ruins of Zion, and engage your own lives for the testimony of a good conscience? Have ye fought the Lords battle, and opposed yourselves against the enemies of the Truth? Have ye shut the door of your chamber, the door of your inner parlour, I mean your heart, from the entrance of all earthly affections, sensual cogitations, and expressed true arguments of Mortification, the sooner to attain this high degree of Christian Perfection? Have ye made a covenant with your eyes not to look after the strange woman; a covenant (I mean) with your hearts never to lust after her? Have ye weaned your itching and bewitching humours, from affecting foreign and outlandish fashions. Which howsoever they be to fashion conformed, they make man of all others most deformed? Have ye done with your reere-suppers, midnight revels, Curtain pleasures, and Courting of Pictures? Have ye left frequenting Court-maskes, Tilt-triumphs, and Interludes, boasting of young Lady's favours, glorying more in the purchase of a glove, than a Captain in the surprisal of a Fort? Have ye cashiered all those Companions of death, those seducing Consorts of misery, and betaken yourselves to the acquaintance of good men, conceiving a settled joy in their society? O then thrice happy you! for having honoured God, he will honour you; having repaired the ruins of Zion, he will place you in his heavenly Zion; or engaged your lives for the testimony of a good Conscience, he will invite you to that continual feast of a peaceable Conscience; or fought the Lords battle, he will say you have fought a good fight, crowning you after your victory on earth with glory in heaven; or shut the door of your Chamber, and kept the room clean and sweet for your Maker, he will come in and sup with you, that you may rejoice together; or made a covenant with your eyes not to look after the strange woman, with those eyes ye shall behold him, who put enmity between the Serpent and the Woman; or weaned your itching and bewitching humours from affecting Outlandish fashions, madding after fantastic habits (for * Par●m refert, vestis tua ●n Sericea an Cilicea, modo pudica ●it, non meretricia. stuff it skils not, whether silken or woollen, so the fashion be civil and not wanton,) you shall be clothed in long white robes, and follow the Lamb wheresoever he goeth; or done with your midnight revels, and Court pleasures, you shall be filled with the pleasures of the Lords House, and abide in his Courts for ever; or left frequenting Masks, Tilt-triumphs, and Interludes, the glorious Spectacles of vanity, you shall be admitted to those angelical triumphs, singing heavenly Hymns to the God of glory: or chashiered those companions of death, whose end is misery, you shall have the Saints for your companions, and share with them in the Covenant of mercy. Do ye not hence observe what inestimable comforts are reserved for those who are truly mortified; mortified, Lanspurg. in Pharetra divini amoris. I say, in respect of your contempt to the world, which is expressed by ceasing to love it, before you leave it? Who would not then disvalue this life, and all those bitter sweets, which this frail life affordeth, to possess those incomparable sweets which every faithful soul enjoyeth? Yea, but our silken worldling, or delicate Wormling will object; This discipline is too strict for flesh and blood to follow. Who can endure to yield his head to the block, or his body to the faggot, when the very sight of death in another, ministers to the beholder motives of terror? Surely, this is nothing to him that duly considereth, how be that loseth his life shall save it, but he that saveth his life shall lose it. What is a minute's anguish to an eternity of solace? We can endure the lancing or fearing of a putrified member, Ibid. and this endures as long as our time of wrestling with our Dissolution, which brings us to our Saviour: nor skils it much, Scire debes, quòd quamvis de morte meditari sit horribile, de statu finalis judicii cogitare ut aestimo, non minus est formidabile: quia nullus tunc poterit fallere sapientiam, flectere justitiam, inclinare clementiam, declinare ultionis & justae retributionis sententiam. Bern. Mortification in our disrespect of Fame or report. Mortification in averting our ear from our own praise. Phavor. in l. 1. de rebus gest. Alphons. Regiis auribus, ni escianatae, Adulantium laudes maximè ingratae. what kind of death we die, seeing no kind of death can hurt the righteous, be the terrors and torments of death never so numerous. The way then to contemn death, is to expect it, and so to prepare ourselves for it, as if we were this very hour to encounter it; resolving never to go with that conscience to our bed, with which we durst not go to our grave; being so uncertain whether before the next morn we shall be taken out of our bed, and shrouded for our grave. And this shall suffice touching our Mortification or Contempt of life, if with such a sacrifice we may be thought worthy to honour him who gave us life. We are now to speak of Mortification in respect of name or report; wherein, you are to understand, that this is twofold: First, in turning our ●ares from such as praise us; Secondly, in hearing with patience such as revile us. For the first, it is and hath been ever the condition of sober and secret men to avert their ear from their own praises; at least with a modest passing over such virtues as were commendable in them: which modesty appeared in Alphonsus' Prince of Aragon's answer to an Orator, who having repeated a long panegyrical oration in his praise, replied, If that thou hast said consent with truth, I thank God for it; if not, I pray God grant me grace that I may do it. Others likewise we read of, who could not with patience endure their persons or actions to be praised above truth: this princely passion appeared in Alexander, who hearing Aristobulus, a famous Greek Historian, read his writings purposely penned upon the memorable acts he had achieved, wherein he commended him far above truth; being mightily incensed therewith, threw the book into the river, as he was sailing over Hydaspes, saying with all, he was almost moved to send Aristobulus after. Neither indeed will any wise man endure to hear himself praised above truth, seeing no less aspersion may be laid on his person by being too highly praised, than if he were discommended: for should we praise one for his bounty, who is publicly known to the world to be parcimonius; or for his humility, who is naturally ambitious; or for his continency, who is licentious; our praises would not tend so much to his honour; as to the display of his nature: yea, even he himself, guilty in himself, would tax us, knowing that he the least of all others deserved these praises from us. It is flattery (saith one) to praise in absence; that is, Ea laus, D. Augustini judicio, unicè approbanda est, quando nec laudantem adulatio movet, nec laudatum tentat elatio. when either the virtue is absent, or the occasion is absent. But in the report of our own praise, admit we should deserve it, the safest course is to withdraw our ear from hearing it, lest vainglory transport us upon hearing of those praises which are spoken of us: for if our aims be only to purchase popular esteem, preferring the praise of men, before the praise of God, or the testimony of a good conscience; as our aims were perverted, so shall we be rewarded. Now there is no better means to abate or extenuate this desire of praise in us, than duly to consider whose gifts they be, that deserve this praise in us: for were they our own, we might more properly be praised for them; but they are Gods, and not ours, therefore is the praise to be ascribed unto God, & not unto us. For he that would be praised for God's gift, & seeketh not God's glory, but his own in that gift, Aug. Soliloq. cap. 15. though he be praised by men for God's gifts, yet is he dispraised by God; for not seeking God's glory, but his own for this gift: and he who is praised by men, God dispraising, shall not be defended by men, God judging, nor be delivered, God condemning. Whereas, he that loveth God, Mortification in suffering aspersions laid on our good name. Matth▪ 5.11.12. will choose rather to be deprived of all future glory, than detract by any means from God the Author of all glory. Let us then so avert our ear from selfe-praise, or aught else that may beget in us vainglory or ostentation, that we may become like unto him, who dis-esteemed all worldly praise from the hour of his birth to the hour of his passion. Secondly, we are to hear with patience such as revile us: and reason good; for observing this, a blessing is pronounced on us; Blessed are ye (saith the Lord of all blessing) when men shall revile you, and persecute you, and shall say all manner of evil against you falsely for my sake: rejoice and be exceeding glad, for great is your * Qui jusius est & maledicitur, praemium ei pro maledictione redditur. Aug. Quod si ips● Dei filius à Diabolo in Eremo tentatus fuit; quis Eremitarum idem non expectet? Gaspar. in Heraclito. Vid. Aegidium in hunc locum. Matth. ●, 7, 8. reward in heaven; for so persecuted they the Prophets which were before you: Yea, not only the Prophets, but even Him of whom all the Prophet's bare witness; yet became he as one that did not hear, having no rebukes in his mouth. When he was tempted in the wilderness, the Scripture was his armour of resistance; when he was reviled on the Cross, he prayed for his enemies, to express his heavenly patience. Now, if the Son of God was in the desert tempted, what Hermit can expect to be from temptation freed? If the Master be reviled, how may the servant look to be entreated? For howsoever some, or indeed most of the ancient Fathers, doubt whether the Devil did know that Christ was GOD or no; touching that parcel of Scripture, wherein Christ was tempted in the Desert; yet may it appear probable by inference from the text itself, that after jesus had said unto him, It is written thou shalt not tempt the Lord thy God; the Devil took him up into an exceeding high mountain, and showed him all the kingdoms of the world, and the glory of them; saying, All those things will I give thee, if thou wilt fall down and worship me. Whence I collect, that after Christ had told him that he was God, he continued his temptation; which was an argument to evince him of palpable ignorance; or of distrust to Christ's speech, which argued his diffidence: but our purpose is not too curiously to insist upon these subtle digressions; Tota vita Christi in terris quae per hominem gessit, disciplina morum fuit. Omnia bona mundi Christus contempsit, quae contemnenda docuit: & omnia mola sustinuit, quae sustinenda praecepit; ut in illis non quae reretur foelicites, neque in istis timeretur infoeluitas. Aug. de ver. rel. it sufficiently appeareth, that Christ who ought to be every faithful Christians pattern, was reviled, yet opened not he his mouth; but with sweet silence and amiable patience offered his prayers unto his Father for them who maliciously offered him upon the Cross; leaving us an example of admiration and imitation, that following him and suffering with him, we might likewise reign and remain with him: yea but will our spritely-stately Gallant object, Can any man, who knows the value of reputation, with patience suffer public disgrace? Is there any punishment so grievous as shame? Yea, were it not better for a man who is eminent in the eye of the world, to die right out, than still live in reproach and shame? For a man to live or die, is natural; he performeth but that task to which all mortality is enjoined; but for a man to live in shame and contempt, and be made a spectacle of disgrace to the world, an apparent touch or taint to his friends, a laughing stock of his enemies, is such a matter, as no well-bred and noble minded man, that hath any courage or stomach in him, or tenders his esteem, can ever digest it. True it is, that flesh and blood will suggest many such objections; and if there were nothing to be valued so much as worldly esteem, Ambr. ep. 70. o● popular grace, which relieth on opinion, as soon lost as got, there were some reason to stand so punctually upon terms of reputation, but the eye of a Christian ought to extend itself to an higher object. We are exhorted to heap coals on our enemy's heads; Beneficium se putabat accepisse augustae memoriae Theodosius, quoties rogabatur ignoscere. Optabatur ineo, quod tilmebatur in atiis, ut irascereur. De obit. Theo. Charon nec Lethis caeca Charybdis faedarunt sacras sorde Charites, Socrat. in Eccles. Hist. l. 1. cap. 21. The Arians scandalised the great Athanasius, of practising magic with the dismembered hand of Arsenius. to render good for evil; and to be revenged on them by well doing. Diogenes being asked how one should be revenged of his enemy, answered, by being a virtuous and honest man. What matter then though all the world revile us, having a sincere and unblemished conscience within us, to witness for us? Socrates in his Ecclesiastical History writeth, that Athanasius being accused by one jannes', to have killed Arsenius, and after to have cut off his hand, that he might use it to magic and sorcery, cleared himself notably of this slander: having by good hap found out Arsenius, who lay hid for the nonce; he brought him before the Council of Tyrus, whereto he was convented, and there he asked his accuser, whether he ever knew Arsenius or no? He answered, Yes: then Athanasius called him forth, with his hands covered under his cloak, and turning up the one side of his cloak, showed him the one of his hands; & when most men surmised, that the other hand at leastwise was cut off; Athanasius without any more ado, casteth up the other side of his cloak, and showeth the second hand, saying, You see Arsenius hath two hands, now let mine accuser show you the place where the third hand was cut off. Whence two remarkable considerations are recommended unto us: malicious subornation in the accuser: gracious moderation in the accused. For the former, let the speech of a Heathen man for ever be printed in your hearts; who when his friend came unto him, and desired him to take a false oath in a cause of his, made answer: 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉. You must (saith he) bear with me, there are many friends to be gotten if I lose you; but if by forswearing myself I lose the favour of God, I cannot get another there is but one God. For the latter, as soft words pacify wrath, so by a pleasant conceit he cooled all wrath, slighting so much the aspersion of his accuser, as even of his enemies he gained him honour. To instance which Moderation or patience, even in sundry Heathen men, towards such as aspersed disgrace upon them, were it not that I fear enlarging of this branch too much, I might produce many heroic and princely examples, as Vespasian, his son Titus, Marcellus, Demetrius, yea, the stiff and rough-hewed Hercules, who cared not a fly for backbiting terms. But I am to use a word or two unto you, gentlemans, by quest of inquiry how you are found affected herein, and so descend to the third and last Branch arising from this Subject. Have ye not delighted in hearing your own praise, but reproved such as praised you, or turned your ear from their applause, lest it should transport you? Have ye distributed to the poor, without looking who saw you? Have ye fasted without hanging down your head, to cause men observe you? Have ye prayed with zeal, fixing your eye only on God, that he would look on you? Have ye performed the works of charity, and that for conscience sake, and not for vainglory? Have ye not too Pharisaically prided yourselves in your own integrity? Have ye ascribed to yourselves shame, and to God the glory? Have ye heartily wished rather to be deprived of all hope of glory than by your means to detract in any wise from God's glory? O then happy & blessed are you! for having turned your ears from the applause of men, you shall receive applause from Angels; or having distributed to the poor without looking who saw you, you shall be plenteously rewarded by him, whose eyes are ever upon you; or fasted without hanging down your heads, to cause men observe you, you shall feast with him, who will erect your heads, and with glory crown you; or performed works of charity for conscience sake, and not for vainglory, your● works shall go before you, and be accounted for righteous through him who shall clothe you with glory; or not too Pharisaically prided yourselves in your own integrity, you shall become justified with the Publican▪ and admitted to honour by humility; or ascribed to yourselves shame, and to God the glory, God shall wipe off your shame, and bring you to the full revition of his glory; or heartily wished to be deprived of all hope of glory, rather than by your means to detract in any wise from GOD'S glory; your desire of advancing God's glory, shall after your passage from this vale of misery, estate you in the inheritance of glory. Again, have ye heard with patience such as revile you? Have ye answered them as he did, who being accused by his enemy of one sin, accused him likewise of ignorance, saying, Thou accusest me of one, Non solum quorum ate incusafti, fateor reum, sed verè cogor tuam inculpare ignorantiam, quiaunius me fecisti reum, quando conscius fui millium. when I am guilty of a thousand? Have ye not stood upon terms of reputation▪ but with patience suffered all disgraces? Have ye overcome your enemy with mildness? taken revenge on him by your virtue and goodness? fortified yourselves against all calumny, with the spirit of patience? O then right blessed are you! for having heard with patience such as ●evile you, an eternal blessing is pronounced on you; or having been as ready to condemn yourselves, as others to accuse you, your purged conscience shall freely acquit you; or not stood on terms of reputation when men disgraced you, you shall be graced in heaven, where no disgrace shall touch you; or overcome your enemy with mildness, the mild Lamb shall crown you with happiness; or taken revenge on him by your virtue and goodness, you shall be refreshed with the fountain of sweetness; or fortified yourselves against all calumny with the spirit of patience, with Palms in your hands shall ye sing with joyfulness. Gather, O gather hence what ineffable solace is conferred on the patient! whatsoever he suffer here, shall in superabundant measure be recompensed elsewhere. But it may be objected, that some aspersions are not to be borne with: for those scandals which are laid upon our persons, where our faith is not taxed or touched, may be more easily endured; but where these are struck at, they are not to be suffered. To confirm which, we read how Peter and john having by prayer and imposition of hands, given the Holy Ghost, and Simon the Sorcerer saw that through laying on of the Apostles hands, the Holy Ghost was given, Act. 8.17, 18, he offered them money, saying, Give me also this power, that on whomsoever I lay hands, be may receive the Holy Ghost. But Peter incensed herewith, 19 saith unto him, Thy money perish with thee, because thou hast thought that the gift of GOD may be purchased with money. Whence it appeareth, 20▪ that out of a holy zeal, one may show passion towards such as detract from the honour of God, or asperse a blemish upon his servants in the work of their ministry. The like we read of Paul, that glorious vessel of election conceiving much indignation against one who had withstood the word; 2 Tim. 4.14▪ saying, Alexander the Coppersmith did me much evil, the Lord reward him according to his works. The reason is inclusively annexed; of whom be thou beware of, for he hath greatly withstood our words. 15. The like spirit of zeal might james and john be said to be of, who when they saw that the Saritanes would not receive Christ, said; Lord wilt thou that we command fire to come down from heaven and consume them, even as Elias did? But how this passion of theirs was approved, may appear by the ensuing verse, Luke 9.54.55. But he turned and rebuked them, and said, Ye know not what manner of spirit ye are of. Now to clear this objection, there is no Pattern which we ought sooner to imitate then Christ himself, who is the master of truth, and directeth us in all truth; who as he was most blameless of all others, for in his mouth was never guile found, yet was he in his own person more blamed, in his doctrine more reproved, in his miracles more injured than all others: for one while he is accused to have a Devil; john y. 20. Matth. 9.34. Matth. 11.19 Acts 2.13. anon, that he casteth out Devils through the Prince of the Devils; anon, that he is a man gluttonous and a wine-bibber, a friend of Publicans and Sinners: yet what answer vouchsafed he unto all these save only this, Wisdom is justified of her children? Scandalum Pharisaeorum. Scandalum Pufillorum. Scandalum activum. Scandalum passivum. Now I know there are differences of Scandals or aspersions, where some leave deeper impression than others do: for as the name is more precious than any earthly substance, so it receiveth the deepest stain when the estimation of our faith is questioned, being the very main foundation whereon all religion is grounded, and the perfection of that building which makes a Christian rightly accomplished. Saint Basil could show himself calm enough in his conference with the Emperor, till a Cook came in, and saucily told him, he did not well to stand so precisely upon such small matters, but rather to yield to his master the Emperor in a word or two: for what were those divine affairs whereon he so much insisted, but such as with indifferency might be dispensed? But what answered this reverend Father? Yea, Sir Cook (quoth he) it is your part to tend your pottage, and not to boil and chop, up divine matters, which, as they little trouble you, so in weight and consequence are far above you. And then with great gravity turning to the Emperor, said, that those that were conversant in divine matters, which were principally to be intended, would with conscience rather suffer death, then suffer one jot of holy Scripture, much less an article of faith already received, to be altered or corrupted. Another holy man, though most innocent, could endure to be counted a whoremaster, an unclean person, and the like; but when one called him an Heretic, he could bear no longer: so near be we touched, when our faith is questioned. But as we have a noble and glorious Pattern, who showed himself a Conqueror in his suffering, let us wrestle with flesh and blood; that suffering all things for him, and with him, we may after our conquest joy in him, Mortification in our contempt of all worldly substance. and with him. And let this be sufficient to have been spoken of Mortification in respect of our name or esteem in the world, labouring daily to dis-value and humiliate ourselves while we are in the world. If it be no great thing to leave our substance, but ourselves; let us at least leave our substance, Prov. 3 9.10. that we may the better enjoy ourselves. It was the wise exhortation of the wisest of Princes; Honour the Lord with thy substance, and with the first fruits of all thy increase; Two remarkable considerations: first, by whom these blessings are conferred on us: secondly, how they are to be disposed by us. annexing a promise to this precept: So shall thy barns be filled with plenty, and thy press shall burst out with new wine. But forasmuch as many things are required to the mortification of this earthly Mammon, we will reduce them to two special heads, the better to retain in memory this means of mortification: 1. to consider from whom we have received these worldly blessings. 2. how to dispose of them, lest they become cursings of blessings. For the first, we are positively to set down, that every good gift and every perfect gift cometh from above; the beasts that graze on a thousand hills are his; the treasures of the earth are his: for from whom should we think are they derived to us, Non dabit ●uod non babet. Aug. but from him by whom they were created for us? He who never had it, how can he give it? but he who hath all, guides all, governs all, and is all in all, is sole sufficient for all. He it is then that maketh rich and maketh poor, exalteth and humbleth, sending forth his waters out of their treasuries, and all things are drowned; shutteth them in their treasuries, and all things are dried. He it is that maketh the fruitful barren, and the barren fruitful. Instead of the thorn shall come up the fir tree, and instead of the briter shall come up the myrtle tree, Isa. 55.13. and it shall be to the Lord for a name, for an everlasting sign that shall not be cut off. He it is that made Heaven and Earth and all things replenished Heaven and Earth with all things, giving Man dominion, over all things, that Man might be subject unto him who made all things. Mow as he gave them to man, so are they to be disposed of by man, to his glory who made man. Isa. 55.13. And how is that? Not in laying land unto land with the oppressor; nor in repairing to the house of the strange woman with the adulterer; nor consuming your substance in excess with the rioter; nor hoarding up vengeance against the day of wrath with the miser; nor grinding the face of the poor with the extortioner: but rather distributing freely of that which you have, and communicating to the necessity of the Saints: so shall you make to yourselves friends of your unrighteous Mammon, Luke 16.9. and shall be fed with Manna in the Courts of Sionr Gainful is the use of that money, which is put out to the works of charity; which be it more or less, cannot but be exceeding great, being given with devotion, and the work attended by singleness of heart and sincerity of affection; for where a sincere will is not joined with the work, the work cannot be effectual to the doer, howsoever it may seem fruitful to the beholder. At which sort of men, who erect sumptuous works rather for popularity and affectation, than piety or sincere affection, the Poet pleasantly glanceth; THESE Statues rear in public ways, Signa viis reparant, ut nomina nota relinquant M●rmore quae sculpto nomen inanis habent. as trophies of their love, Which, as they hear, in passengers will admiration move, And gain a fame unto their name, which may survive in them: But trust me, Sirs, these works of theirs show them vainglorious men. Which works, howsoever useful unto others, were better undone then done in respect of themselves: for to glory in our works, doth not only derogate from our works, but denounce upon us a greater damnation, ascribing to ourselves what duly, properly, and solely aught to be attributed to the glory of God. But to draw nearer the point we have in hand; there is nothing that weaneth our minds more from the meditation of God and mortification to the world, than our earthly affections, which bear such sway over us, as they will not suffer those divine motions or meditations to take root in us. This is excellently shadowed in that Parable of the great Supper, where many guests were invited, but all with one consent began to make their excuse: Luke 14.16, 17. etc. the first, he had bought a piece of ground, and he must needs go see it: the second had bought five yoke of oxen, and he must go prove them: and another had married a wife, and therefore he could not come. These, though the fatlings be provided, the choicest dainties prepared, wherewith their hungerstarved souls might be refreshed, cannot come; the world must detain them, their earthly respects enchain them, their sensual delights restrain them: they cannot come, though often invited; nor resort to this great Supper, though all things be provided. These seldom or never take into their more serious consideration, the state of the blessed in Heaven, or the state of the damned in Hell. Neither can the joys of the one allure them, or the pains of the other deter them. These will dispense with the word for the profit of the world, and enjoy the pleasures of sin for a season, deferring repentance till it be past season. Saint chrysostom relateth how Paulus Samosetanus that arch-hereticke, Poenitentia dolorum, non remissionis peccatorum. Chrysost. hom. 7. in johan. Aug. lib. 1. de civet. dei. c. 18. Greg. lib. 20. Moral. c. 12. for the love of a woman forsook his faith. Saint Augustine relateth divers, who denied the torments of hell to have eternity, thereby to flatter their affection with a pretended assurance of impunity. Saint Gregory imputeth it to avarice and covetousness, that many forsake their faith. These follow not the example of sundry devout men, the memory whereof is recommended unto us in holy writ; who being possessors of lands or houses, sold them, and brought the prices of the things that were sold, and laid them down at the Apostles feet: and distribution was made unto every man according as he had need. Act. 4 34, 35. The like contempt, in respect of earthly substance, we read to have been in many noble and equally affected Pagans, as Crates, Bisias, Zeno, Bias, Anacreon, Anacharsis; who▪ though they had scarce the least glimpse of an eternity, yet they disvalue the substance of earth as the subject of vanity. But I must now draw in my sails, and take a view of your dispositions (Gentlemen) how you stand herein affected; that seeking what I expect to find, I may no less glory in your aversion from earth, then if you were ascending Jacob's ladder, to have your names enroled in the kingdom of heaven. Have ye honoured the Lord with your substance, and tendered him the first fruits of his bounty? An accurate repetition and connexion of the precedent Meditations. Have ye acknowledged every good thing to come from him, as from the fountain of mercy? Have ye subjected yourselves unto him, as he hath subjected all things to your sovereignty? Have ye disposed of them soberly and solely to his glory? Have ye been oppressors, and with good Zacheus made fourfold restitution? Have ye not exposed your inheritance to riot and pollution? Have ye not hoarded up vengeance against the day of affliction? Have ye not grinded and grated the face of the poor with extortion? Have ye distributed freely, and communicated to the Saints necessity? Have ye made you friends of your unrighteous Mammon, and so made yourselves way to the heavenly Zion? Have ye done these works of compassion with singleness of heart, and without affectation? Have ye been by no earthly respect detained from coming to that great Lords Supper, to which you were invited? O then in a happy state are you! for having honoured the Lord, he will fill your barns with plenty; or having acknowledged all good things to be derived from his mercy, he will give you a fuller taste of his bounty; or subjected yourselves to his obedience, he will cause every Creature to do you service; or disposed of them soberly and solely to his glory, he will exhibit his good gifts unto you more fully; or been oppressors, and made restitution, you shall with Zacheus become vessels of election; or not exposed your inheritance to riot and pollution, you shall be safe from the doom of confusion; or not grinded the face of the poor with extortion, the poor shall bear record of your compassion; or distributed freely to the Saint's necessity, he that seeth in secret shall reward you openly; or made you friends of your unrighteous Mammon, Manna shall be your food in the heavenly Zion; or done these works singly, and without vainglory, you shall be clothed with the garment of mercy; or not detained by the world from going to that great Lords Supper, ye shall be graciously admitted and exalted to honour. Thus to dispose of the substance of the world, is to despise the world: preferring one meditation of the pleasures and treasures of heaven, before the possession of the whole earth: and esteeming it far better to be one day in the House of the Lord, then to be conversant in the Palaces of Princes. O then, ye whose generous descents and mighty estates promise comfort to the afflicted, relief to the distressed, and an hospitable receipt to all such as repair to you for succour or comfort, minister to the necessity of the Saints, be liberal and open handed to the poor, having opportunity, do good unto all men, Gal. 5.6. especially unto them who are of the household of faith; be exercised in the works of the spirit and not of the flesh, so shall ye build upon a sure foundation, and in the inheritance of God's Saints receive a mansion. Turn not (I say) your ear from the cry of any poor man, lest his cry be heard, and procure vengeance to be poured on your head: Pity the moans of the afflicted, wipe off the tears of the distressed, comfort them that mourn in Zion. The ordinary form of begging in Italy, is, Do good for your own sakes. Do good for your own sakes, for your own selus, for your own souls. No a Nullum Deo gratius sacrificium quam zelus animarum. Greg. in bom. 12. sup. Ezec. sacrifice to God more grateful, to yourselves more useful, or to your own souls more fruitful, then to be zealous in all holy duties, and compassionate to the needful: b Nam qui non ardet, non accendit. Bernard. for, he that in himself burns not in devotion, can never inflame another with the zeal of devotion: c Nec lucere potest, nisi prius ardeat. Aquin. in 5. johan: neither can any one shine, unless before he burn: shine in the works of compassion, unless he burn before with the zeal of a devout affection. So as many though they be d Lucernae quoad officium, extinctae quoad effectum. Ibid. Quod emittitur voluntarium est: quod amittitur necessarium. Ambros. Elemosyna in vita, est Lucerna lucens; Elemosyna post mortem, Lucerna caecutiens. Lights in respect of their ministry or office, yet are they Snuffs in respect of their use, effect or service. Exhibit therefore freely of those good gifts and bounties which God hath bestowed on you, and show your liberality now in the opportunate time; for, as there is a time that none can work, so there is a time when none can give: give it then in your life time, that you may express your charity with your own hand, and not by way of Legacy: for many make good wills, which I much fear me proceed not of good will; being rather by the sentence of mortality enforced, then of their own charitable disposition affected, to leave to the poor afflicted of the world, which they so exceedingly love, while they sojourned here in the world. And what shall these bountiful Legacies avail them, these charitable Wills profit them, when they shall make their beds in the dark, and enter parley with their own Consciences, whether this coacted charity of theirs proceeded from compassion or compulsion, leaving what they could no longer enjoy, and giving that which was not in their power to give? Surely, no more benefit shall this enforced charity confer on them, then if they had sown the sand: for fruitless is that work which deriveth not her ground from a pure intention or sanctified will. In the Eastern countries, they put coin in the dead man's hand, Qui à dle in diem deferunt, donec Parcae cuncta auferunt. to provide for him after his departure hence. The like provision carry these along with them to their graves, who defer giving, till they cannot give, making their Executors their Almoners, who many times defeat the poor, or number themselves in Bead-roll of the poor, whereby they gull the deceased, enriching their own Coffers with the poor man's box. Non memini me legisse mala morte mortuum, qui libentèr opera pietatis exercuit. Hieron. in epist. ad Nepotianum. quam immensa est laetitia de recordatione transactae virtutis; etc. Bern. in fest. omnium Sanctorum. serm. 2. O Gentlemen, you whose corpse are followed with many mourners, and ofttimes inward rejoicers; send out those sweet odours of a good and devout life before you; dispense and dispose faithfully, in whatsoever the Lord above others hath enriched you; defer not your charity to your death, lest you be prevented of your charity by death; bethink yourselves how you would be provided if that great Master of accounts were this hour to call you before him, and make your reckoning with him; would you not be glad; your conscience told you, how you had been faithful disposers or employers of those Talents, which were delivered to you? Would not your hearts rejoice within you to have such a Testimony, as the witness of an undefiled or spotless conscience within you? Would it not entrance you with an exceeding joy, to hear that happy and heavenly approbation, Well done, good and faithful servants, you have been faithful over a few things, I will make you rulers over many things: enter ye into the joy of your Lord? If this could not choose but joy you, so dispose of your earthly Mammon, that you may be partakers of this surpassing joy in the Courts of Zion. And so I descend to the last Branch of this last Observation, expressing that object of ineffable consolation, whereto this Active Perfection aspireth, and that spiritual repose of heavenly solace and refection, wherein it solely and properly resteth. job. 5.7. The absolute or supreme end whereto this Actual Perfection aspireth, and wherein it solely resteth. Chrysost. Aug. Solioq. c. 2. MAn is borne unto trouble, as the sparks fly upward, being here a sojourner in the Inn of this world; and drawing every day nearer and nearer the end of his Pilgrimage; where man's life is the Traveller's emblem; his form of living, the very mirror of his sojourning; his home returning, the type or figure of his dissolving. In which progress or journal of man, by how much more the sun-dial of his life proceedeth, by so much nearer the nightshade of death approacheth. Yet, behold the misery of man! His desires are daily to disquiet and disturb himself: for show me that man howsoever affected, or in what degree soever placed, whose desires are so firmly fixed, as his mind is not troubled in the pursuit of that whereto his aims are directed. For to begin with the Highest, because his thoughts are ever aspiring'st; doth the Ambitious man aim at honour or preferment? Behold, he purposeth with himself to gain or attain such a place under his Prince, not so much for his own ends (as he pretendeth) but to be useful to his friends, and behooveful to his Country; but since that hour, he entertained the first infant thoughts of Ambition, he hath felt sufficiently the danger of that infection: reaping no other fruits but distractions, in respect of Competitors, or want of enjoying himself, being pestered by multitude of Suitors. Or, is he covetous? There is nothing which he eyes or beholds upon this Universe, tending to profit, or promising hope of profit, which he presently conveys not to his heart, coveting whatsoever he sees, and seeing nothing that he doth not covet: he tumbles and tosses, and will not suffer his eyes to slumber, but like miserable Menedemus in Terence, or greedy Gripus in Plautus, he afflicts and torments himself, Terent. in Heauton. Plau. in Rudeute. making his own desires his own disquiets. Or, is he Voluptuous? His fond affection procures in him this frenzy or distraction: He goes to the house of the strange woman, giveth ear to her incantation, sports with Ishmael, lusts after her beauty in his heart: and is taken with her eye lids; Prov. 6.25. yet see how sensuality brings him to misery! by means of this whorish woman, he is brought to a piece of bread: and the adulteress will hunt after his precious life: but to pass over these, and take a view of such whose course of life seems better disposed, then to converse with the world, either by ambitiously aspiring to Honours, the great man's Darling; or by too eager a pursuit after Riches, the worldlings Mammon; or by too hot a quest after pleasure, the wantoness Minion. For to reflect a little upon the aims of such who affect Contemplation, and every day better their knowledge in the serious or exquisite search of the natures, virtues, or operations of all creatures; we shall find, to use the words of Solomon, Ecclus. 1.23. That even in these there is vanity and affliction of spirit: for, howsoever wisdom raines down skill and knowledge of understanding, exalting them to honour that hold her fast; yet Salomon's conclusion after the search of wisdom and folly, Eccles. 1.18. is definitively this; In much wisdom is much grief: and he that increaseth knowledge, increaseth sorrow. For should man labour to engross all learning, knowledge and wisdom, his labour were but vain, and his search fruitless; seeing he, whose understanding was deepest, conceit quickest, and wisdom greatest of all them that were before him in jerusalem, 16.7.23, 24. hath thus concluded: All this I have proved by wisdom; I said, I would be wise, but it was far from me. Adding the reason hereof; That which is far off, and exceeding deep, who can find it out? For be our search never so curious, our desire covetous in the pursuit of knowledge, we shall find by daily experience our own weakness: where, though our wills be strengthened, our abilities are weakened, being ever more hopeful in our undertake, then powerful in our performance; yea, Scire omniae volumus, nihil agere. Gasper. in Herac. c. 2. it is a property inherent to us, and naturally ingraffed in us, to have an itching desire of knowing all things, but of doing nothing: yet neither in knowledge nor Action may we satisfy our desire or affection: vain and endless therefore is our search in the former, as weak and fruitless is our pursuit of the latter. There is no end of writing many books, Sub quorum velamine, frequenter magna avaritia comperitur. Vincent. de vit. Spirit. cap. 1. no end of reading many books, no end of storing our Libraries with many books: for under the cover of these, much covetousness ofttimes lurketh. These are not of that inestimable price, (though they contain much spiritual comfort) as may fully store or enrich the heart; fully replenish or satisfy the heart; fully settle or establish the heart: for where the desires of the heart are not fulfilled, how can she hold herself sufficiently enriched? Or where her desires are not accomplished, how may she rest satisfied? or being not there seated, where her desires are settled; how can she be quieted? Sive dormiam five vigilem, somniat: & cogitat qui●qui deii occurrit. Bern. Med. cap. 9 Hence it is, that a devout Father compares his Heart unto a Mil; For as a Mil (saith he) swiftly wheeleth and turneth about and refuseth nothing, but whatsoever is put upon it, it grindeth: but if nothing be put upon it, it consumes itself: so is my unstable heart always in motion, and never resteth: but whether I sleep or wake, it dreameth and thinketh of whatsoever it encountreth. Can then neither Honour, nor Wealth, nor Pleasure satisfy his unconfined Heart? can neither Honours surprise her, wealth enjoy her, nor pleasure entrance her? No: these are vanity, and lighter than vanity, In petendo honorem timet ne praeveniatur, in possidendo valdè timet ne privetur. Cui tam deest quod habet, quam quod non habet: Adeptae voluptatis Coronidem si quaeres, poeniten●iam invenies. Cum se cuncta novisse putat, plura se ignorosse quam didicisse, indies sentit. Sid Deo non affligatur homo, seipsum affliget. in Herac. cap. 3. Ita de humano arbitratu penfitatur divinitas, nisi Deus homini placuerit, Deus non erit. Tertul. in Apol. cap. 5. receiving their true colour from the Poet, who bestoweth on them this portraiture; Wealth is a wave, Honour a bait of death, Catching at which were catcht and choked therewith. For tell me, is not the Ambitious man as fearful to incur disgrace, after he is received to his Prince's favour, as he was jealous of a Competitor before he got into favour? again, is not the miserable rich man, who reposeth all comfort in his substance, all his consolation in his riches, as fearful to lose what he already enjoys, as he was doubtful of prevention in what he now enjoys? Or is not the voluptuous carnal man, whose only delight is dalliance with his perfidious Dalilah, stinged with as much grief after his desires are satisfied, as he was stirred with delight before his pleasures were effected? Or is not the Contemplative man, whose aims being higher, should tender him content in fuller measure, afflicted in mind, when he finds himself come short in knowledge of what he expected, and reads every day something which he never before observed? What content then in these flourishing May-buds of vanity, which in repentance and affliction of spirit, do only show their constancy? So as one well observeth, If man should not be afflicted by God, yet should he be afflicted by himself; consuming himself with his own envy, rancour, and other distempered affections, which have more fury and torment attending on them, than the evil itself which procureth them. Yet behold the wretched condition of unhappy man! Though neither Honour be permanent, nor from peril freed; nor Riches prevalent to make him after death the better friended, nor pleasures so excellent, as to free him from affliction when they are ended: yet are they for most part preferred before those heavenly honours which are ever permanent, and never altering; before those incorruptible riches, which enrich the soul after death without decreasing; and before those ineffable pleasures, where neither desires breeds longing, nor satiety loathing. So as, I cannot more fitly compare the actions of these sensual affected men, Ibid. cap. 3. then with that childish act of the Emperor Honorius, who taking especial delight in a Hen called Roma: upon a time understanding, by report of such as told him, that Roma was lost, he exceedingly lamented: whereupon some of his familiar friends, and such as were neere-him, Vid. vit. Honour. noting his terror; It is not your Hen that is lost, but your City Roma, that is taken by Alaricus King of the Goths. Wherewith coming a little to himself, he seemed to bear with much more patience the surprise of the one, than the loss of the other. O childish simplicity! you say well; yet the like is in us. We cannot endure that any one should steal from us our silver; yet either honour, riches, or pleasure may have free leave to steal away our heart. We would by no means be defrauded of our treasure; yet it troubles us little to be depraved with error. Corporis vitamus venena non animi. Ibid. in Heraec. We avoid the poisons of the body, but not of the mind; intending more the diet of the body, than the discipline of the mind. Since then, in these external desires, this Actual Perfection, whereof we have formerly treated, may receive no true rest or repose, for to those it only aspireth, wherein it resteth; we must search higher for this place of peace, this repose of rest, this heavenly Harbour of divine comfort: we are to seek it then while we are here upon earth, Quis vicinus malus, quis latro, quis infidiator tibi tollit Deum? Et potest tibi tollere totum good po●●ides corpore, non tibi tollit cum quem possides cord. Aug. Ecclus. 23.28. yet not on earth: would you know, what this sovereign or absolute end is, wherein this Actual Perfection solely resteth, wherein the Heart only glorieth, and to the receiver, long life, with comfort in abundance amply promiseth? Harken to the words of jesus the Son of Sirach: It is a great glory to follow the Lord, and to be received of him is long life: Nor skils it much, how worldlings esteem of us; for, perhaps, they will judge it folly to see us become weaned from delights or pleasures of the world; to see us embrace a rigorous or austere course of life, to disesteem the pomp and port of this present world. This (I say) they will account foolishness; But blessed are they who deserve to be of that number, which the world accounts for fools, God for wise men. But miserable is the state of those forlorn worldlings, whose chiefest aim is to circumvent or entrap their brethren, Beauti qui ex eorum numero esse merentur, quos mund●● prostultis, Deus pro s●pientibus habet. Blos. Enchirid. parvul. auth. Esther. 7, 9, 10. Ecclus. 1.15. making their highest aims their own ends, and accounting bread eaten in secret to be the savourest, and stolen waters the sweetest: for these never drink of their own Cistern, or feed of the flesh of their own fold; but partake in the spoil of others, yet wipe their mouths as if they were innocent: but behold this Haman-policy shall make them spectacles of final misery, wishing many times they had been less wise in the opinion of the world, so they had relished of that divine wisdom, which makes man truly happy in another world; even that wisdom (I say) who hath built an everlasting foundation with men, and shall continue with their seed: neither can this divine wisdom choose but be fruitful, standing on so firm a root, or the branches dry, receiving life and heat from so fair a root. Now to describe the beauty of her branches springing from so firm a root; ●0. with the solidity of her root, diffusing pith to her branches: The root of wisdom (saith the wise Son of Sirach) is to fear the Lord, and the branches thereof are long life. This fear, where it takes root, suffers no worldly fear to take place. Multi miseri sunt metu, ne miseri fiant: multi mori metuentes, moriuntur. Gaspar. in Herac. Many worldlings become wretched, only through fear lest they should be wretched; and many die, only through fear lest they should die: but with these, who are grounded in the fear of the Lord, they neither fear death, being assured that it imposeth an end to their misery; nor the miseries of this present life, being ever affied on the trust of GOD'S mercy. How constantly, zealously, and gloriously many devout men have died, and upon the very instant of their dissolution expostulated with their own souls, reproving in themselves their unwillingness to die; may appear by the examples of such; whose lives as they were to GOD right pleasing, so were their souls no less precious in their departing: The reason of his frequent repetition of sundry sentences, similitudes, and other memorable discoveries throughout this Book. upon some whereof, though I have formerly insisted, yet in respect that such memorable patterns of sanctity cannot be too often represented, I thought good purposely (as usually I have done in all the Series of this present Discourse, where any remarkable thing was related, to have it in divers places repeated) to exemplify this noble resolution or contempt of death, in the proof and practice of some one or two blessed Saints and Servants of God. Jerome writeth of Hilarion, that being ready to give up the ghost, he said thus to his soul; Go forth my soul, why fearest thou? Go forth, why tremblest thou? Hier. in vit. Thou hast served Christ almost these threescore & ten years, and dost thou now fear death? Saint Ambrose when he was ready to die, speaking to Stillico and others about his bed; I have not lived so among you (saith he) that I am ashamed to live longer to please God: Pontius in fine vitae ejus. and yet again I am not afraid to die, because we have a good Lord. The reverend Bede, whom we may more easily admire, than sufficiently praise for his profound learning, in a most barbarous age, when all good literature was in contempt, being in the pangs of death, said to the standers by; I have so lived among you that I am not ashamed of my life, neither fear I to die, because I have a most gracious Redeemer. He yielded up his life with this prayer for the Church; O King of glory, Lord of Hosts, which hast triumphantly ascended into heaven, In vit. Bedae. leave us not fatherless, but send the promised Spirit of thy truth amongst us. These last funeral Tears, or dying men's Hymns, I have the rather renewed to your memory, that they might have the longer impression, being uttered by dying men, at the point of their dissolution. And I know right well (for experience hath informed me sufficiently therein) that the words of dying men are precious even to strangers; but when the voice of one we love, Extrema morientium eloquia, audientium Oracula: ultimae voces, viventium vates. Nicet. in funeb. orat. and with whom we did familiarly live, calls to us from the Deathbed, O what a conflict do his words raise! How strongly do grief and affection strive to enclose them! knowing that in a short space, that tongue, the organs whereof yet speak, and move attention by their friendly accents, was to be eternally tied up in silence, nor should the sound of his words salute our cares any more: And certainly, the resolution of a devout dying man, being upon the point of his dissolution, cannot but be an especial motive to the hearer, of Mortification. Which was one cause, even among the heathens, of erecting Statues, Sepulchra enim non tam mortuorum quam viventium memoriae condita sunt. Obelisks, or Monuments upon the Dead; that eyeing the Sepulchers of such noble and heroic men as had their honour laid in the dust, they might likewise understand, that neither resolution of spirit, nor puissance of body could free them from the common verdict of mortality: which begot in many of them a wonderful contempt of the world. Albeit it is to be understood, that Christians do contemn the world much otherwise than Pagan's: for ambition is a guide to these, but the love of God unto them. Ambitio his dux illis, amor Dei Gasp. in epist. ante Heraclit. Diogenes trod upon Plato's pride with much greater selfe-pride: but the Christian with patience and humility surmounteth and subdueth all worldly pride; being of nothing so careful, as lest he should taste the Lotium of earthly delights, and so become forgetful with Ulysses' companions of his native Country. Mean time he sojourns in the world, not as a Citizen, but as a Guest, yea as an Exile. But to return to our present discourse now in hand; in this quest after that sovereign or supreme end whereto all Actual Perfection aspireth, and wherein it resteth, we are to consider three things: 1. What is to be sought: 2. Where it is to be sought: 3. When it is to be sought. For the first, we are to understand that we are to seek only for that, the acquisition whereof is no sooner attained, than the mind, whose flight is above the pitch of frailty, is fully satisfied. Now that is a blessed life, when what is best, is effected and enjoyed: for there can be no true rest to the mind in desiring, but partaking what she desireth. What is it then that we seek? To drink of the water of life; where our thirst may be so satisfied, as it never be renewed; our desires so fulfilled, as never higher or further extended. Vitruvius' l. 8. cap. 3. He that hath once tasted of the fountain named Clitorius fons (and choice is the taste of such a fountain) will never drink any wine; no wine mixed with the dregs of vanity, no wine drawn from the lees of vainglory: the reason is, he reserves his taste for that new wine, August. Manual. cap. 8. which he is to drink in his Father's kingdom. And what kingdom? The Kingdom of heaven; a kingdom most happy, a kingdom wanting death, and without end; enjoing a life that admits no end. Ibid. cap. 3. And what life? A life vital, a life sempiternal, and sempiternally joyful, And what joy? A joy without sorrowing, rest without labouring, dignity without trembling, wealth without losing, health without languishing, abundance without failing, life without dying, Luk. 18.19. Trinitas divinarum personarum est summum bonum. quod purgatissimis mentibus cernitur. Aug. lib. 1. de Trin. cap. 2. perpetuity without corrupting, blessedness without afflicting, where the sight & vision of God is seen face to face. And what God? God the sole sufficient, summary, supreme good: that good which we require alone; that God who is good alone. And what good? The Trinity of the divine persons is this summary good, which is seen with purest minds. The Heart trianglewise resembleth the image of the blessed Trinity; which can no more by the circumference of the World be confined than a Triangle by a Circle is to be filled. So as the Circular world cannot fill the Triangular heart, no more than a Circle can fill a Triangle; still there will be some empty corners: it says, so long as it is fixed on the world, Sheol, it is never enough: but fixed on her Maker, her only Mover, on her sweet Redeemer, her dearest Lover, she chants out cheerfully this Hymn of comfort; There is no condemnation to them which are in Christ jesus. Rom. 3.1. She then may rest in peace. And what peace? A peace which passeth all understanding. She then may embrace her Love. And what Love? A Love constantly loving. She then may enjoy life. And what life? A life eternally living. She then may receive a Crown. And what Crown? A Crown gloriously shining. This crown (saith S. Peter) is undefiled, 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉. which never fadeth away. The Greek words which S. Peter useth, are Latin words also; and they are not only Appellatives, being the Epithets of this Crown, but also Propers; the one proper name of a Stone, the other of a Flower: for Isidore writeth, there is a precious stone called Amiantus, Isidorus Etymol l. 16. c. 4. which, though it be never so much soiled, yet it can never at all be blemished; and being cast into the fire, it is taken out still more bright and clean. Also Clemens writeth, that there is a flower called Amarantus, which being a long time hung up in the house, yet still is fresh and green. To both which, the stone and the flower, the Apostle, as may be probably gathered, alludeth in this place. Here than you see, what you are to seek. For are your desires unsatisfied? here is that which may fulfil them. Are your souls thirsty? here is the Well of life to refresh them: Would you be Kings? here is a Kingdom provided for you. Would you enjoy a long life? a long life shall crown you, and length of days attend you. Would you have all goodness to enrich you? enjoying GOD, all good things shall be given you. Would you have salvation to come unto your house and secure you? rest you in Christ jesus, and no condemnation shall draw near you. Would you have your consciences speak peace unto you? the God of peace will throughout establish you. Would you have your constantest Love ever attend you? He who gave himself for you, will never leave you. Would you have him live for ever with you? Leave loving of the world, so shall he live ever with you and in you. Would you have a Crown conferred on you? A Crown of glory shall impale you. Aug. Manuel. cap. 34. Seek then this one good wherein consisteth all goodness, and it sufficeth. Seek this sovereign or summary good, from whence cometh every good, and it sufficeth. For he is the life by which we live, the hope to which we cleave, and the glory which we desire to obtain. For if dead, Ibid. 12▪ Aliud noli petere, uni suffice, quia una tibi sufficiet. Aug. in Psal. 26. Where we are to seek. he can revive us; if hopeless and helpless, he can succour us; if in disgrace, he can exalt us. Him then only are we to seek, who, when we were lost, did seek us; and being found, did bring us to his sheepfold. And so I descend from what we are to seek, to where we are to seek, that seeking him where he may be found, we may at last find him whom we so long have sought. For the second, we are to seek it while we are on earth, but not upon earth, for earth cannot contain it. It is the Philosopher's axiom, That which is finite may not comprehend that which is infinite. Now that supreme or sovereign end, to which this Actual Perfection is directed, whereto it aspireth, and wherein it resteth, is by nature infinite: End without end, beginning and end, imposing to every creature a certain, definite, or determinate end. The sole solace of the soul, being only able to fill or satisfy the soul, without which all things in heaven or under heaven, joined and conferred together, cannot suffice the soul: so boundless her extent, so infinite the object of her content. How should Earth then contain it, or to what end should we on Earth seek it; seeing whatsoever containeth, must of necessity be greater than that which is contained? But Earth being a mass of corruption, how should it confine or circumscribe incorruption? Seeing nothing but immortality can clothe the Soul with glory, it is not the rubbish or refuse of Earth that may add to her beauty. Besides, the Soul while it so journes here in this earthly mansion, she remains as a captive enclosed in prison. What delights then can be pleasing, what delicates relishing to the palate of this prisoner? She is an exile here on Earth: what society then can be cheerful to one so careful of returning to her Country? If Captives restrained of their liberty, Exiles estranged from their Country, can take no true content either in their bondage, be it never so attempered; nor in that exile, be they never so attended, how should the Soul apprehend the least joy, during her abode on Earth? Where the treasure is, there is the heart: her treasure is above, how can her heart be here below? Mortality cannot suit with immortality, no more can Earth with the soul. Whereto then be the motions of our soul directed? To Him that gave it; no inferior creature may suffice her, no earthly object satisfy her, August. Med. cap. 19 nothing subject to sense fulfil her. In Heaven are those heavenly objects, wherewith her eye rests satisfied; in Heaven are those melodious accents, wherewith her ear rests solaced; in Heaven those choicest odours, wherewith her smell is cherished, in Heaven those tastefull'st dainties, wherewith her soul is nourished; in Heaven those glorious creatures, wherewith herself is numbered. What difference then betwixt the satiety and saturity of Heaven, and the penury and poverty of Earth? Here all things are full of labour, Eccles. 1.8. man cannot utter it: The eye is not satisfied with seeing, nor the ear filled with hearing: whereas in Heaven there is length of days, and fullness of joy without ending. And wherein consists this fullness? Even in the sweet and comfortable sight of God. But who hath seen GOD at any time? To this, blessed Augustine answers excellently: Albeit (saith he) that summary and incommutable essence, Aug. Med. cap. 28. that true light, that indeficient light, that light of Angels, can be seen by none in this life, being reserved for a reward to the Saints only in the heavenly glory; yet to believe, and understand, and feel, and ardently desire it, is in some sort to see and possess it. Now, if we will believe it, though our feet be on earth, Sipes in terris, spes sit in coelis. our faith must be in heaven: or understand it, we must so live on earth, as if our conversation were in heaven: or feel it, we must have so little feeling of the delights of this life, as our delight may be wholly in heaven: or desire it, we must hunger and thirst after righteousness, to direct us in the way which leadeth to heaven. It cannot be (saith a devout holy man) that any one should die ill, Blos. Enchirid parvul, auth. who hath lived well. We are then to labour by a zealous, religious, and sincere life, to present ourselves blameless before the Lord at his coming. O if we knew (and gross is our ignorance if we know it not) that whatsoever it sought besides God, Ibid. possesseth the mind, but satisfies it not! we would have recourse to him, by whom our minds might be as well satisfied as possessed. But great is our misery, and miserable our stupidity, who, when we may gain heaven with less pains than hell, will not draw our foot back from hell, Minore negetionobis calum comparem possum●s, quam infernum. Ibid. Hilar. enar. in. Ps. 18. nor step one foot forward towards the kingdom of heaven. Yea, when we know, that it pleaseth the Devil no less when we sin, than it pleaseth God to hear us sigh for sin; yet will we rather please the Devil by committing sin, then please God by sending out one penitent sigh for our sin. For behold, what dangers will men expose themselves unto, by Sea and Land, to increase their substance! Again, for satisfaction of their pleasures, what tasks will they undertake, no less painful than full of peril! A little expectance of penitential pleasure can make the voluptuous man watch all the night long, when one hour of the night to pray in would seem too too long. Early and late, to enrich his careless heir, will the miserable wretch address himself to all slavish labour, without once remembering either early or late to give thanks to his Maker. Hi, lice●●lta nimis cogitent▪ humilitèr se gerent, quo aliorum gratiam sibi concilient, in litibus decernendis justa statuent, quo majoreus ●ibi reverentiam, f●catâ eâ justitia larva, sibi adferant: interim, alios dum capiunt, sese decipiunt; aliena dum rapiunt, miserè ruunt. Vid. Annal, Hiber. Bernard. Without repose or repast will the restless ambitious Spark, whose aims are only to be worldly great, task himself to all difficulties to gain honour, when even that which so eagerly he seeks for, ofttimes bring ruin to the owner. Here than you see where you are to seek: not on earth, for there is nought but corruption; but in heaven, where you may be clothed with incorruption: not on earth, for there you are Exiles; but in heaven, where you may be enroled and enfranchised Citizens: not on earth the grate of misery, but in heaven the goal of glory. In brief, would you have your hearts lodged, where your treasures are locked; all your senses seated, where they may be fully sated; your eye with delightfull'st objects satisfied, your ear with melodious accents solaced; your smell with choicest odours cherished, your taste with chiefest dainties relished, yourselves, your souls amongst those glorious creatures registered? Fix the desires of your heart on him, who can only satisfy your heart; set your eye on him, whose eye is ever upon you, and in due time will direct you to him; intent your ear to his Law, which can best inform you, and with divinest melody cheer you; follow him in the smell of his sweet ointments, and he will comfort you in your afflictions; taste how sweet he is in mercy, and you shall taste sweetness in the depth of your misery: become heavenly men; so of terrestrial Angels you shall be made Angels in heaven, where, by the spiritual union of your souls, you shall be united unto him who first gave you souls. And so I come to the third and last; When we are to seek, lest seeking out of time, we be excluded from finding what we seek, for want of seeking in due time. When we are to seek. Eccles. 3.1. If words spoken in season be like apples of gold with pictures of silver; sure I am, that our actions being seasonably form or disposed, cannot but add to our souls much beauty and lustre. To every thing there is a season, and a time to every purpose under the heaven: which season neglected, the benefit accrueing to the work is likewise abridged. There is a time to sow, and a time to reap: and sow we must before we reap; sow in tears, before we reap in joy. Seek we must before we find; for unless we seek him while he may be found, seek may we long ere we have him found. After the time of our dissolution from earth, there is no time admitted for repentance to bring us to heaven. Hoc momentum est de quo pendet aeternitas. Either now or never; and if now, thrice happy ever. Which is illustrated to us by divers Similitudes, Examples and Parables in the holy Scripture: as in Esau's birthright, which (once sold) could not be regained by many tears; Gen. 25.34. and in the Parable of Dives and Lazarus, where Abraham answered Dives, Luke 16.24.25. after he had beseeched him to send Lazarus that he might dip the tip of his finger in water, and cool his tongue; Son, remember that thou in thy life-time received'st thy good things, and likewise Lazarus evil things: but now he is comforted, and thou art tormented. And in the Parable of the ten Virgins, where the five foolish Virgins took their Lamps, Matth. 25.3.4.10.11.12. and took no oil with them; but the wise took oil in their vessels with their Lamps; and when the Bridegroom came, those that were ready, went in with him, and were received: but those foolish ones who were unprovided, though they came afterwards, crying, Lord, Lord, open unto us, could not be admitted. For know, dear Christian, and apply it to thy heart, (for knowledge without use, application or practice, Deus conversioni tuae indulgentiam promisit: sed dilationi tuae diem crastinum non promisit. Aug. is a fruitless and soule-beguiling knowledge;) that he who promiseth forgiveness to thee repenting, hath not promised thee to morrow to repent in. Why therefore deferrest thou till to morrow, when thou little knowest but thou mayst die before to morrow? This day, this hour is the opportunate season; take hold of it then, lest thou repent thee when it is past season. Man hath no interest in time save this very instant, which he may properly term his; let him then so employ this instant of time, as he may be heir of eternity, which exceeds the limit of time. Matt. 11.16. Let us work now while it is day, for the night cometh when no man can work. Why therefore stand we idling? Why delay we our conversion? Why cry we with the sluggard, Yet a little, and then a little, and no end of that little? August. Why to morrow, and to morrow, and no end of to morrow, being as near our conversion to day as to morrow? Why not to day, as well as to morrow, seeing every day bringeth with it her affliction, both to day and to morrow? Meet it is then, for us to make recourse to the Throne of mercy in the day of mercy, and before the evil day come, lest we be taken, as he who beat his fellow servants, when the great Master of the Household shall come. jerem. 22.30. O earth, earth, earth, hear the Word of the LORD! Earth by creation, earth by condition, earth by corruption. Eccles. 12. à vers. 1. ad 8. Remember now thy Creator in the days of thy youth, while the evil days come not, nor the years draw nigh, when thou shalt say, I have no pleasure in them. While the Sun, or the light, or the Moon, or the Stars that be not darkened, nor the clouds return after the rain. In the day when the Keepers of the house shall tremble, and the strong men shall bow themselves, and the grinders cease, because they are few, and those that look out of the windows be darkened: And the doors shall be shut in the streets, when the sound of the grinding is low, and he shall rise up at the voice of the bird, and all the daughters of music shall be brought low. Also when they shall be afraid of that which is high, and fears shall be in the way, and the Almond tree shall flourish, and the Grasshopper shall be a burden, and desire shall fail: because man goeth to his long home, and the mourners go about the streets. Or ever the silver cord be loosed, or the golden bowl be broken, or the pitcher be broken at the fountain, Gen. 3.19. or the wheel broken at the Cistern. Then shall the dust return to the earth as it was, and the spirit shall return unto God who gave it. Hence then are we warned not to defer time, lest we neglect the opportunate time, the time of grace; which neglected, miserable shall we be, when from hence dissolved. Yea, but will some object; True repentance is never too late: which is most true; but again I answer, August. Poenitentia poenae; non p●na p●nitentiae. that late repentance is seldom true. Repent then while ye have time; for as in Hell there is no redemption, so after death there is no time admitted for repentance. O remember that a wounded conscience none can heal; so that, like as the Scorpion hath in her the remedy of her own poison; so the evil man carrieth always with him the punishment of his own wickedness, the which doth never leave to torment and afflict his mind both sleeping and waking. So as, the wicked man is ofttimes forced to speak unto his conscience, 1 King. 2●. 20. as Ahab said to Eliah, Hast thou found me, O mine enemy? Now there is no better means to make peace with our consciences, then to set God continually before our eyes, that his Spirit may witness to our spirits, that we are the children of grace. Wherein many offend daily, who promise to themselves security, either by sinning subtly or secretly: Subtly, as in dazzling or deluding the eyes of the world with pretended sanctity, and concluding with the Poet; Da mihi sallere, da justum sanctumque videri, Noctem peccatis & fraudibus ob●ice nubem. Nullus est in rima, nullus qui me ex●●udiat. Eras. Dial. 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉.— cernit Deus omnia vindex. 1 Kin. 21.20. Anon pudet id facere in conspectu Dei, actes●ibus sanctis Angelu, quod pudet facere in conspectu hominum. That I may just and holy seem, and so the world deceive, And with a cloud my cunning shroud, is all that I do crave. But such Hypocrites will God judge, and redouble the viols of his wrath upon their double sin. Secretly, when man in the foolishness of his heart committeth some secret sin, and saith, Who seeth him? There is none looking thorough the chink to see me, none that can hear me, but simple fools: how much are these deceived? Is there any darkness so thick and palpable, that this 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 the piercing eye of heaven cannot spy thee through it? O if thou hope by firming secretly, to sin securely, thou shalt be forced to say unto thy God, as Ahab said unto Elijah, Hast thou found me, O mine enemy? Nay, O God terrible and dreadful, thou hast found me. And then let me ask thee in the same terms that the young Gallant in Erasmus asked his wanton mistress; Art thou not ashamed to do that in the sight of God and witness of holy Angels, which thou art ashamed to do in the sight of men? Art thou so afraid of disgrace with men, and little carest whether thou be or no in the state of grace with God? Art thou more jealous of the eyes of men, who have but power only to asperse a blemish on thy name, or inflict a temporal punishment on thy person, then of his, who hath power to throw both thy soul and body into the burning Lake of perdition? Quid si tuta possint esse scelera, ●● secura e●se non possunt? vel quid prode●t nocentibus habuisse latendi facultatem, cum liten●i fiduciam non habent? Sen. opist. 97. Bernard. de vitâ Solitariä Sen. epist. 11. August. Mau cap. 19 Quicquid ages mundo, furtìmve palàmve, momento, Inspectatorem semper adesse Deum. Prúdentius hymno●um. l. 1. cont. Symmach. Aug. Soliloq. cap. 11. It was a pretty saying of Epicurus in Seneca; Whereto are offences safe, if they cannot be secure? Or what avails it guilty men to find a place to lie hid in, when they have no confidence in the place where they lie hid in? Excellent therefore was the counsel of zealous Bernard, and sententious Seneca, that we should always, as in a mirror, represent unto our eyes the example of some good man; and so to live as if he did always see us, always behold us: for we, who know that the eyes of God are upon all the ways of men, and that no place so remote, no place so desert or desolate, as may divide us from his allseeing presence, aught to be in all our works so provident and circumspect, as if God were present before our eyes, as in truth he his. And therefore Prudentius in one of his Hymns gives this memorandum; Think with thyself, if thou from sin would free thee, Be't day or night, that God doth ever see thee. O then let us fix our thoughts upon God here on earth, that we may gloriously fix our eyes upon him in heaven! Let us so meditate of him here on earth, that we may contemplate him there in heaven! So repent us to have dishonoured him here on earth, that we may be honoured by him in heaven! Let us become humble Petitioners unto him, and prostrate ourselves before his footstool: of whom if we beg life, his hand is not so shortened, as it will not save; his ear so closely stopped, as it will not hear. It is reported that when a poor man came to Dionysius the Tyrant, and preferred his Petition unto him standing, the imperious Tyrant would not give ear unto him; whereupon this poor Petitioner, to move him to more compassion, fell down prostrate at his feet, and with much importunity obtained his suit: after all this, being demanded by one why he did so; Aures habet in pedibus Aristippus. I perceived (quoth he) Dionysius to have his ears in his feet, wherefore I was out of hope to be heard till I fell before his feet. But God, who intendeth rather the devotion of the heart, than the motion of the hand, or prostration of the body, will hear us, if we ask faithfully, and open unto us, if we knock constantly, and having fought a good fight, crown us victoriously. Thus you have heard what we are to seek, where we are to seek, and when we are to seek. What; a Kingdom, not of earth, but of heaven. Where; not on earth, nor in earth, but in heaven. When; while we are here on earth, C●nt. 4.12. 2 Tim. 4.8. Mat. 13.44. Mat. 10.16. 1 Cor. 2.7. 2 Cor. 3.17. Mat. 6.33. Esay 56.7. Matth. 21 13. Num. 12. ●. Rome 9.8. 2 Sam. 5.7.9. Luke 17.21. that after earth we may reign in heaven. What; a Garden enclosed, a Spring shut up, a Fountain sealed. What; a crown of righteousness, a precious pearl, a hid treasure. What; wisdom, health, wealth, beauty, liberty, and all through him who is all in all. Aristippus was wont to say, that he would go to Socrates for wit, but to Dionysius for money: whereas this we seek, and seeking hope to enjoy, confers upon us the rich treasures of wisdom, and abundance of riches for evermore. For, first seek we the kingdom of heaven, and the righteousness thereof, and all things else shall be ministered unto us. Secondly, where we are to seek. Where; in Heaven, the house of God, the City of the great King, the inheritance of the just, the portion of the faithful, the glory of Zion. Where; not without us, but within us; for the Kingdom of God is within us. So as I may say to every faithful soul, Intus habes quod quaeris; That is within thee, which is sought of thee. It is God thou seekest, and him thou possessest; Qui amat desiderare, defideret amare. Bern. de amore Dei. c. 3. Vid. Greg. Mor. lib. 18. cap. 28. thy heart longeth after him, and right sure thou art of him, for his delight is to be with those that love him. Lastly, when; on Earth: when; in this life: when; while we are in health; while we are in these Tabernacles of clay; while we carry about us these earthly vessels; while we are clothed with flesh; before the evil day come; or the night approach; or the shadow of death encompass us; now in the opportunate time, the time of grace, the time of redemption, the appointed time, while our peace may be made: not to defer from youth to age, lest we be prevented by death before we come to age; but so to live every day, as if we were to die every day, that at last we may live with him who is the length of days. What remaineth then, but that we conclude the whole Series or progress of this Discourse with an exhortation to counsel you, an instruction to caution you; closing both in one Conclusion to persuade you to put in daily practice, what already hath been tendered to you. Now, Gentlemen, that I may take a friendly farewell of you; I am to exhort you to a course Virtuous, which among good men is ever held most Generous. A●pithy exhortation. Let not, O let not the pleasures of sin for a season, withdraw your minds from that exceeding great weight of glory kept in store for the faithful, Via●i●tutis, s●ella salutis. Pandect. after their passage from this vale of misery! Often call to mind the riches of that Kingdom after which you seek: those fresh Pastures fragrant Meadows, and redolent Fields diapered and embroidered with sweetest and choicest flowers: Happy misery, when clothed with the white robe of immortality, cheered with heavenly harmony, holy melody! those blessed Citizens, heavenly Saints and Servants of God, who served him here on Earth faithfully, and now reign with him triumphantly. Let your Hearts be exditers of a good matter, and your voices viols to this heavenly measure. O how glorious things are spoken of thee thou City of God; as the habitation of all that rejoice is in thee! Thou art founded on the exaltation of the whole Earth. There is in thee neither old-age, nor the misery of old-age. There is in thee neither maim, nor lame, nor crooked, nor deformed, seeing all attain to the perfect man, to that measure of age, or fullness of Christ. Who would not become humble Petitioner before the Throne of grace, Aug. Man. cap. 17. to be made partaker of such an exceeding weight of glory? Secondly, A powerful Instruction. to instruct you where this Crown of righteousness is to be sought; it is to be sought in the house of God, in the Temple of the Lord, in the Sanctuary of the most High. O do not hold it any derogation to you, to be servants; yea, servants of the lowest rank, even Doorkeepers in the House of the Lord! Constantine the Great gloried more in being a member of the Church, Majorem s●bi gloriam conferri existimab●t, in seipsum exhibendo membrum Ecclesiae, quám caput imperii. Vid. Euseb. than the Head of an Empire. O then, let it be your greatest glory to advance his glory, who will make you vessels of glory! But know, that to obey the deligths of the flesh, to divide your portion among Harlots, to drink till the wine grow red, to make your life a continued revel, is not the way to obtain this crown. Tribulation must go before Consolation; you must climb up to the Cross, before you receive this Crown. The Israelites were to pass thorough a Desert, before they came to Canaan. This Desert is the world, Canaan heaven. O who would not be here afflicted, that he may be there comforted! Who would not be here crossed, that he may be there crowned! Who would not with patience pass thorough this Desert, only in hope to come to Canaan! Canaan, the inheritance of the just; Canaan, the lot of the righteous; Exod. 3.8. Canaan, a fat Land flowing with milk and honey; Canaan, an habitation, Exod. 15.13. of the most holy; Canaan, a place promised to Abraham; Canaan, Gen. 12.7. Luke 16.22 the bosom of Father Abraham, even Heaven; but not the heaven of heaven, to which even the earth itself is the very Empyraean heaven, for this is heaven of heaven to the Lord: Aug. Soliloq. cap. 31. because known to none but to the Lord. Thirdly, and lastly, that I may conclude, and concluding persuade you; neglect not this opportunate time of grace that is now offered you. A persuasive Conclusion. I know well, that Gentlemen of your rank cannot want such witty Consorts, as will labour by their pleasant conceits to remove from you the remembrance of the evil day: but esteem not those conceits for good, which strive to estrange from your conceit the chiefest good. Let it be your task every day, to provide yourselves against the evil day; so shall not the evil day, when it cometh affright you, nor the terrors of death prevail against you, nor the last summons perplex you, nor the burning Lake consume you. O what sharp, extreme, and insuperable tasks would those woeful tormented souls take upon them, if they might be freed but one hour from those horrors which they see, those tortures which they feel! O than while time is granted you, omit no time, neglect no opportunity! Be instant in season and out of season, holding on in the race which is set before you, and persevering in every good work even unto the end. Matth. 10.22. Because they that continue unto the end, shall be saved, What is this life but a minute, and less than a minute in respect of eternity? Yet if this minute be well employed, it will bring you to the fruition of eternity. Hebr. 10.36. Prov. 16.32. Short and momentany are the afflictions of this life; yet supported with Patience, and subdued with long sufferance, they crown the sufferer with glory endless. Short likewise are the pleasures of this life, which as they are of short continuance, so bring they forth no other fruit than the bitter pills of repentance: whereas in heaven there are pleasures for evermore, comforts for evermore, joys for evermore: no carnal, but cordial joy: no laughter of the body, but of the heart: for though the righteous sorrow, Greg. in Moral. Exposit. in job. Blos. Enchirid. parvul. auth. their sorrow ends when they end, but joy shall come upon them without end. O meditate of these in your beds, and in your fields; when you are journeying on the way, and when you are so journing in your houses: where compare your Court-dalliance with these pleasures, and you shall find all your rioting, triumphs and revelling, to be rather occasions of sorrowing than solacing, mourning than rejoicing! bath you in your Stoves, or repose you in your Arbours, these cannot allay the least pang of an afflicted conscience. O then so live every day, as you may die to sin every day! that as you are ennobled by your descent on earth, you may be ennobled in heaven after your descent to earth. Laus Deo. Totum hoc ut à te veniet, totur● ad te redeat. A Gentleman IS a Man of himself, without the addition of either Tailor, Milliner, Seamster or Haberdasher. Actions of goodness he holds his supreme happiness: The fate of a younger brother cannot depress his thoughts below his elder. He scorns baseness more than want; and holds Nobleness his sole worth. A Crest displays his house, but his own actions express himself. He scorns pride, as a derogation to Gentry; and walks with so pure a soul, as he makes uprightness the honour of his Family. He wonders at a profuse fool, that he should spend when honest frugality bids him spare; and no less at a miserable Crone, who spares when reputation bids him spend. Though heir of no great fortunes, yet his extensive hand will not show it. He shapes his coat to his cloth; and scorns as much to be holden, as to be a Galleyslave. He hath been youthful, but his maturer experience hath so ripened him, as he hates to become either Gull or Cheat. His disposition is so generous, as others happiness cannot make him repine, nor any occurrent, save sin, make him repent. He admires nothing more than a constant spirit, derides nothing more than a recreant condition, embraceth nothing with more intimacy, than a prepared resolution. Amongst men he hates no less to be uncivil, than in his fear to Godward to be servile. Education he holds a second Nature; which (such innate seeds of goodness are sown in him) ever improves him, seldom or never depraves him. Learning he holds not only an additament, but ornament to Gentry. No compliment gives more accomplishment. He intends more the tillage of his mind, than his ground; yet suffers not that to grow wild neither. He walks not in the clouds to his friend, but to a stranger. He eyes the Court with a virtuous and noble contemplation; and disvalues him most, whose sense consists in sent. He views the City, with a princely command of his affections. No object can withdraw him from himself; or so distract his desires as to covet aught unworthily; or so entrance his thoughts, as to admire aught servilely. He lives in the Country without thought of oppression; makes every evening his days Ephemeris. If his neighbour's field flourish, he doth not envy it; if it lie fit for him, he scorns to covet it. There is not that place he sees, nor that pleasure he enjoys, whereof he makes not some singular use to his own good, and God's glory. Vocation he admits of, walking in it with so generous and religious a care, as he makes Piety his Practice, acts of Charity his Exercise, and the benefit of others his sole solace. He understands that neither health cometh from the clouds without seeking, nor wealth from the clods without digging. He recommends himself therefore in the morning to God's protection and favour, that all the day long he may more prosperously succeed in his labour. He holds idleness to be the very moth of man's time: Day by day therefore hath he his task imposed, that the poison of idleness may be better avoided. He holds, as God's opportunity is man's extremity; so man's security is the Devil's opportunity. Hoping therefore he fears, fearing he takes heed, and taking heed he becomes safe. Hospitality he holds a relic of Gentry: He harbours no passion but compassion. He grieves no less at another's loss than his own; nor joys less in another's success than his own peculiar. Recreation he useth to refresh him, but not surprise him. Delights cannot divert him from a more serious occasion; neither can any houre-beguiling pastime divide him from an higher contemplation. For honest pleasures, he is neither so Stoical as wholly to contemn them, nor so Epicureall as too sensually to affect them. There is no delight on mountain, vale, coppice, or river, whereof he makes not an useful and contemplative pleasure. Recreation he admits, not to satisfy his sense, but solace himself. He fixeth his mind on some other subject, when any pleasure begins too strongly to work upon him: He would take it, but not be taken by it. He attempters his attractivest pastimes with a little Aloes; to wean him all the sooner from their sweetness. He scorns that a moment of content should deprive him of an eternity of comfort. He corrects therefore his humour, in the desire of pleasure, that he may come off with more honour. Acquaintance he entertains with fear, but retains with fervour. He consorts with none, but where he presumes he may either better them, or be bettered by them. Virtue is the sole motive of his choice: He conceives how no true amity, nor constant society can ever be amongst evil men. He holds it a blemish to the repute of a Gentleman, and an aspersion to his discretion to make choice of those for his associates, who make no more account of time, than how to pass it over. Conference he affects; and those he admits only into the list of his discourse, whom he finds more real than verbal, more solid than complemental. He will try him before he rely on him: but having found him touch, they touch his honour that impeach him. Moderation in his desires, cares, fears, or in what this Theatre of Earth may afford, he expresseth so nobly, as neither love of whatsoever he enjoys can so enthrall him, nor the loss of what he loves can any way appall him. A true and generous Moderation of his affections, hath begot in him an absolute command and conquest of himself. He smiles, yet compassionately grieves at the immoderation of poor worldlings in their cares and griefs; at the indiscretion of ambitious and voluptuous Flies in their desires and fears. Perfection he aspires to; for no lower mound can confine him, no inferior bound impale him. Virtue is the stair that raiseth to height of this Story. His ascent is by degrees; making Humility his directress, lest he should fail or fall in his progress. His wings are holy desires; his feet heavenly motions. There is no sense which he offers not up as a sweet incense, to expedite his course and refresh his conscience. He holds it the sweetest life to be every day better, till length of days reunite him to his Redeemer. He hath played his part on this Stage of Earth with honour; and now in his Exit makes heaven his harbour. FINIS. An exact TABLE, or Directory, leading to the Principal points contained in this BOOK, YOUTH. Observat. 1. OUR youthful years, our Climacterical years; with the dangers that attend on youthful years; seconded by an authentic story out of Eusebius. p. 1.2 The vanity of Youth displayed in four distinct Subjects. 3 Two reasons why Youngmen were not admitted to deliver their opinions in public assemblies. 6.7 Three violent passions incident to Youth. 15 Two reasons why Youth is naturally subject to those illimited passions of Ambition, Lust, Revenge. ibid. Especial motives or incendiaries, tending to the increase of those passions. 16 The proper postures of a complete Roarer. 23 Physic prescribed, and Receipts applied, to cure these maladies in Youth. 26 What choice employments deserve entertainment from a Gentleman. ib. DISPOSITION. Observat. 2. THe diversity of Dispositions. pag. 29 A probable judgement of our Dispositions, drawn from the delights we affect, or company we frequent. 30 Passion the best discoverer of our Disposition. ibid. Discovery of Dispositions in distempers. ib Promotion held ever, man's best Anatomy Lecture. 31 The Disposition is not to be forced. 32 What Disposition (being distinguished by three infallible marks) is most generous: Mildness. 34 Munificence. 34 Stoutness. 34 The proper aim or end whereto the Actions of true resolution are directed: with the prudent observation of Cortugall, one of the Turkish Princes, in his persuasive Oration for the besiege of Rhodes. 40 EDUCATION. Observat. 3. WHat Education is. pag. 43 Education dilates itself to three subjects. ibid. Our knowledge reflects upon two particulars. 44 A profitable Exhortation to all such as are drawn away by strange doctrine. 46 Two especial errors incident to subjects of discourse; Affectation, Imitation, whereof Gentlemen are seriously cautioned. 47 Persuasion, being the life and efficacy of Speech, consisteth on three parts. ibid. The excellent Moral of a Bird, and a Fowler. 48.49 Immoderate passion, in arguments of Discourse and reasoning, to be avoided 50 Education either improveth or depraveth. 52 Education, the best seasoner of Action, as well as of Speech, or Knowledge: no less prevalent in Arts Manual; than actions Martial. ibid. & 53 The admirable effects of Education. ibid. How a Gentleman may be best enabled by Education. 5● Education, the best seasoner of Youth. 57 VOCATION. Observat. 4. THe Definition, necessity, and conveniency of a Vocation without personal Exception or Exemption. pag. 59.60.65 Virtue consists in Action, Time in revolution, the maze of man's life in perpetual motion. pag. 61. l. 24 Three necessary considerations touching the conveniency of a Vocation; divided and applied. 62 The efficacy of Prayer in every Vocation; and the exercise thereof seriously recommended. ibid. We are to resist vices, by practising and doing acts of the contrary virtues. 65 Men of place, in respect of three distinct Objects, are three ways servants. 66. l. 2. Men of place, of all others are lest exempted from a Vocation. 67. l. 22 The ground of all Novellisme. 69 Vocation in general. 70 The first invention of Trades, Arts, or Sciences. 72 The Ancient Borough of Kendal (upon serious discourse of Manufacture) worthily commended for their industry in Wooll-worke: the judicious Dutchmen of Kes-wick, for their Copper-worke. 71 A serious survey and judicious display of all the Liberal Sciences. 72.73 The Vocation of a Gentleman in particular. 75 The Vocation of a Gentleman hath employment public or private. 77 How a Gentleman is to demean himself in public affairs of State. ibid. How in choosing Knights and Burgesses of Parliament, those are ever to be preferred, who seek least after it: And how a too eager pursuit after offices, argues either arrogance, avarice, or weakness. ib. The life of man either Active or Contemplative. 76. l. 30. Directions of reservancy, useful to all Gentlemen in their keeping of company. ibid. l. 49 Credulity, in two respects, dangerous to persons employed in affairs of State. 77 Credulity In believing the relations of others. Credulity In imparting his thoughts to the secrecy of others: showed in a conceited story. 77.78. Resolution in suffering neither price to draw him, nor power to over-awe him: the one to taint him, nor the other to daunt him. 79 Disobedience punished in acts most successive. 80 The holy war, as a consequent action of honour, recommended to the undertaking of all young Gentlemen. 81. lin. 7 How a Gentleman is to employ himself in public affairs. 82 How a Gentleman is to demean himself in private affairs. ibid. Two perilous shelves which endanger justice.. 84 How justice is to be poized equally. ibid. Impunity the foster-mother of all impiety. 85 How a Gentleman is to demean himself in his own family. 86 Every family a private Commonwealth. 87. marg. A Gentleman is so to demean himself in his family, as he neither hoard up niggardly, nor lash out lavishly. 88 l. 13 He is to keep a hawk of his bounty, lest too much profuseness bring him to misery. ib. l. 18 He is neither to be too remiss, nor too severe in his family. ibid. How a Gentleman is to employ himself in spiritual affairs within his family. 90 The exercise of devotion commended, a Blessing thereon pronounced, if duly performed; which Blessing is on a precept and a promise grounded. 90.91 RECREATION. Observat. 5. THe difference of Recreations. pag. 53 Of the moderate and immoderate use of Recreation. 96 The benefit redounding from moderate Recreation. 97 The inconveniences arising from immoderate Recreation. 99 The year of jubilee defined and described. ib. Objections against Stageplays, proposed and resolved. 103.104 What honours ancient and modern times have conferred on Poets, and what bounties for their poems. 106.107 What especial subjects are privileged from I●sts. 108 Who the first Comedian, who the first Tragedian. ibid. A woeful example of a Gentlewoman, who was a continual frequenter of Stageplays. 109 His vindication from a traducing opinion, conceived of him touching Stageplays. ib. mar. Excess of Gaming reproved. 110 Cheaters displayed; their humours experimentally decoloured, their Habit, garb, and formal insinuation discovered. ibid. Young Gamesters most subject to passion. 125 A doleful example of one that at game used imprecation. ibid. Another Modern example covertly shadowed, of one who desperately surprised with distemper of loss, poisoned himself. ibid. An excellent moral discourse of Hunting. 111 The story of the fool of Milan, and his discourse with a Falconer. 113 Of Recreations best sorting with the quality of a Gentleman. 114 In exercises of Recreation, those only are most approved, by whom they are with least affectation performed, and with most freedom of mind embraced. 114. l. 22 The misery of Duello's. 115 An accurate discourse of valour, and how in arguments of contest or challenge, a Gentleman may come off with honour. 117 A collection and election of Histories. 118 The knowledge of our own Modern Chronicles, most beneficial to Gentlemen. 121.122 History the sweetest Recreation of the mind. 220 The judgement of God inflicted upon the actors and authors of Treason, Sacrilege, etc. 119.120 What good moral men have flourished in evil times. 120.121 How a Gentleman is to bestow himself in Recreation. 123 Prodigality condemned, moderation in expense, as well as in the exercise itself, commended. 124 Distinction of times for Recreations, necessarily enjoined. 126 No expense more precious, than the expense of time. ibid. Election of Games for Recreation: which conduce most to memory or retention; which to pregnancy of conceit or apprehension. ibid. Acquaintance. Observat. 6. OF the use of Acquaintance. pag. 129 Man's security, the Devil's opportunity. 130. l. 22 A display of some Monastic professors. ib. Privacy no less perilous than society. ibid. The particular benefits derived from Acquaintance, extend to Discourse. 131 Advice. 131 Action. 131 Of the benefit we reap by Acquaintance in matters of Discourse. ibid. Of the choice of Acquaintance in matters of advice. 132 Friendship resembled to the juniper tree, whose wood is sweetest, shade coolest, and coal● hottest. ib. marg. Of the benefit properly derived from one friend to another in every peculiar Action. 133 The Expressive Character of a real friend. 134 The benefits which redound from the mut●all union or communion of friends in the exercise of pleasure. 136 All jests either festive or civil. ibid. Those jests are best seasoned, that are least salted. 137 A rule of infallible direction touching choice of Acquaintance. ibid. Of the choice or judicious approvement of Acquaintance, in affairs of highest consequence. 138 Neither Timist nor Timonist are within the Lists of Acquaintance to be entertained. ib. The Timist, or Time-observer, displayed, and displaced. ibid. The Timonist, or Time-detracter, discovered and discarded. 141 Evil society the source of all sensuality. 140 What directions are to be observed in the choice of a wife. 142 Which branch hath proper relation to three choice Characters, annexed to the end of this Work; which Characters are in some Copies only annexed, and for some other Observations hereafter reserved. The harsh and heremitical conceit of the Carthaginian Arminius, touching Marriage. ibid. The Character of a shameless wanton. 142 The Character of a shamefast woman. 143 Advice in respect both of portion and proportion. 144.145. etc. Privileges granted to such as are married. 147 Nobility and Affability hold equalli'st concurrency. ibid. l. 34 Sundry inducing motives to Love recountèd. 149 Of Constancy in the choice of Acquaintance. 150 Who are best consorts to pray with, to play with, to converse or commerce with. 151 l. 28 Three faculties of the Understanding, with their Objects. 153 Of reservancy towards Acquaintance. 155 A twofold reservancy; 1 In reconciling our secrets. ibid. etc. 2 In retaining our substance. An admirable story, clozing with an unexpected Catastrophe, of a prodigal Gentleman, and an unconscionable Creditor. 159. etc. Of the absolute end of Acquaintance. 162 All things by course of nature have their proper end, save only suits of Law, which admit no end. ibid. l. 29 A brief survey of Acquaintance, in city, court, and country. 163 Learning, the moving'st inducement and exquisitest ornament of Acquaintance. ibid. etc. Titles formerly conferred on such as were learned ibid. The absolute aim or end of Acquaintance, is either to better them, or be bettered by them. 164 Especial offices wherein friendship and Acquaintance should be exercised. ibid. What gracious effects were produced by the friendly compassion of those faithful instruments of God's glory, in the first conversion of this kingdom. 165.166.167 The flourishing state of the Church, amidst many hoary winters of innovation, turbulent times of persecution. 167.168 An excellent conclusive precept recommended to all young Gentlemen. ib. & 169 MODERATION. Observat. 7. MOderation defined. pag. 171 Our life a medley of desires and fears. ibid. Moderation of Princes in their contempt of Sovereignty, illustrated by an example of one of our own. 173 Otho's resolution, who by dying had rather prove himself a mortal creature, than by living, load himself with cares of an Emperor. 174 No virtue can subsist without Moderation. 176 A review of those main assailants of Temperance, Lust, Ambition, Gorgeousness in apparel, luscious fare, company keeping, etc. illustrated by divers instances. 177.178 etc. What excellent fruits are derived from Temperance. 176 Conquest of a man's affections, the greatest victory. 177 Chastity the choicest ornament of Youth. ibid. A distinction of degrees, Conjugal, vidual, Virginal. 180 A more particular display of Cheaters, with their obsequious natures, etc. 184 Wherein Moderation is to be used. Expense of coin. Expense of time. 185 Motives to Hospitality with a reclaim of our Gentry from the Court to their Country. 186 Three sorts of persons encountered and reproved for their abuse or careless Expense of Time, the Ambitious. Voluptuous. Miserable-covetous. 189 The Ambitious man's designs aptly compared to Domitian's catching flies, or the misty conclusions of the deluded Alchemist. 190 The Voluptuous Libertine misse-imployeth time in two respects; 1 In respect of himself. 2 In respect of those good creatures, ordained for the use and service of himself. ibid. The Covetous wretch's Treasury, the store-house of his misery. 191 Nothing so terrible as the approach of death to a worldling. 192 Moderation of the passions of the mind, reduced to two subjects, joy.. Sorrow. ibid. The Christians joy is no carnal but a spiritual joy.. 193 His sorrow is not a sorrow unto sin, but a sorrow for sin. ibid. Eye is made the sense of sorrow, because the sense of sin. 194 Wherein Moderation is to be limited. 194 The occasion of all immoderation derived from those three troubled Springs: Concupiscence of the flesh; 195 Concupiscence of the eye; 195 Pride of life. 195 Excellent rules prescribed for moderating cares of the flesh. ibid. The Eye, as it is the tenderest and subtlest Organ of all others, so should the object whereon it is fixed, be the purest and clearest of all others. 197 The Eagle an Emblem of Divine Contemplation. ibid. The worldlings earthly honour resembled to the bird Ibis, her filthy nature. ibid. The desperate fate of an enamoured Italian. ibid. l. 44 The proud Luciferians of this world similized to the Chameleon, who hath nothing in his body but lungs. 198. lin. 6 Promotion declares what men be; instanced in Cardinal Woolsey. ibid. The power of prayer expressed by these three distinct Characters: It is. God's honour; 199 Man's armour; 199 The Devils terror. 199 Or thus, God's oblation; 199 Man's munition; 199 The Devils expulsion. 199 Which pious practice, as it is God's sacrifice, so should it be man's exercise. ibid. And absolute clozing direction tending to true Moderation. ibid. Of the accomplished end which attends Moderation. ibid. The difference betwixt the Ethnic and Christian Ethicke, in the opinion of felicity. 200 The Exercise of Moderation reduced to a threefold practice; 1 Overcoming of Anger, by the spirit of patience. 2 Wantonness, by the spirit of continence. 3 Pride, by the spirit of lowliness. 202 He who useth his tongue to filthy communication, incurs a threefold offence: 1 In dishonouring his Maker. 2 In blemishing his soul's image or feature. 3 In ministering matter of scandal to his brether▪ 203 Wherein true Content properly consisteth 204 Those two passions or affections of desire and fear; desire of having more than we have; fear of losing what we already have, may be properly said to have a threefold respect: To the goods or Endowments of Mind. ibid. Body. ibid. Fortune. ibid. No Attendants more tenderly constant to a Gentleman's reputation, than Moderation. 207 Moderation the best Monitor in advising and advancing him to the true title of honour. PERFECTION. Observat. 8. NO Perfection in this life absolute, but gradual. pag. 209 Two considerations of main consequence: 1 The foe that assaults us. 2 The friend that assists us. 210 The Christians complete armour. ibid. The first institution of Fasts, with the fruit thereof. 211 The power of Prayer: with examples of such as were most conversant in that holy Exercise. ibid. & 212 Circumstances observable in works of charity and devotion. ibid. Objections and resolutions upon the ground of Perfection. 213. lin. 26. etc. Of the Contemplative part of Perfection. 214 A Corollary betwixt the Heathen and Christian contemplation. 215 Examples of a contemplative and retired life. 217 A threefold Meditation of necessary importance: 1 Worthiness of the Soul; 2 Unworthiness of Earth; 3 Thankfulness unto God, who made man the worthiest creature upon earth. 218. etc. Of the Active part of Perfection. 219 No contagion so mortally dangerous to the body, as corrupt company is to the soul. 220 Two especial memorial recommended to our devoutest meditations: 1 The Author of our creation. ib. 2 The end of our creation ib. A fourfold Creation. 221. lin. 3 The fabulous and frivolous opinions of four Heathen Philosophers, ascribing the creation of all things to the four Elements. 222. l. 3 Their arguments evinced by pregnant testimonies, both of Scriptures and Fathers. ibid. The End of our creation. ibid. Singular precepts of Mortification. 223 Idleness begetteth security, properly termed the Souls Lethargy. 224 A Christian Ephemerises; or his Evening account. ibid. The Active part of Perfection, preferred before the Contemplative. 225 No ARMOURY can more truly deblazon a Gentleman, than acts of charity and compassion. 226 The Active preferred before the Contemplative, for two respects; the first whereof hath relation to ourselves; the second to others. 228.229 Ignorance is to be preferred before knowledge loosely perverted; with a comparison by way of objection and resolution, betwixt the conveniences of Action and Knowledge. ibid. Action is the life of man, and Example the direction of his life. 229. lin. 5 Wherein the Active part of Perfection consisteth. 229 Active Perfection consisteth in Mortification of Action and Affection. Mortification extends itself in a threefold respect, to these three distinct Subjects: 1 Life. 2 Name. 3 Goods. Illustrated with eminent Examples of Christian resolution, during the ten Persecutions. 230.231 Not the act of death, but the cause of death makes the Martyr. 232 No action, how glorious soever, can be crowned, unless it be on a pure intention grounded. ibid. Mortification in respect of name or report, is twofold: 1 In turning our ears from such as praise us. 2 In hearing with patience such as revile us. 234 Scandals distinguished: and which with more patience than others may be tolerated. 237.238. etc. Mortification in our contempt of all worldly substance: pitching upon two markable considerations 1 By whom these blessings are conferred on us. 2 How they are to be disposed by us. 238 Vainglory shuts man from the gate of glory. 239 An exquisite connection of the precedent Meditations. 240 The absolute or supreme end whereto this Actual Perfection aspireth, and wherein it solely resteth. 242 Singular Patterns of Mortification, in their Contempt of life, and embrace of death. 243.244 The reason of his frequent repetition of sundry notable occurrences throughout this whole Book: Wherein sundry passages throughout this last Edition have suffered in the obscurity of their expressions, by the omissions of their marginal authorities, digits or directions. 245 The Heart can no more by circumference of the World be confined, than a Triangle by a Circle filled. 247. lin 16 Though our feet be on earth, our faith must be in heaven. 249 A pithy Exhortation; a powerful instruction; clozing with a persuasive Conclusion. 253.254 A Character entitled, A Gentleman. THE ENGLISH GENTLEWOMAN, DRAWN OUT TO the full Body: EXPRESSING What Habiliments do best attire her, What Ornaments do best adorn her, What Compliments do best accomplish her. The third Edition revised, corrected, and enlarged. By RICHARD BRATHWAIT Esq. Modestia, non Forma. LONDON, Printed by I. Dawson. 1641. TO HER, WHOSE TRUE LOVE TO VIRTUE HATH HIGHLY ENNOBLED HERSELF, Renowned her sex, Honoured her house: The Right Honourable ANNE, Countess of PEMBROKE; the only Daughter to a memorable Father, GEORGE Lord CLIFFORD, Earl of CUMBERLAND. The accomplishment of her divinest wishes. MADAM; SOme months are past, since I made bold to recommend to my Right Honourable LORD your Husband, an ENGLISH GENTLEMAN; whom he was pleased, forth of his noble disposition to receive into his Protection. Into whose most Honourable service he was no sooner entertained, & upon due observance of his integrity approved; then upon approvement of his more piercive judgement, he became generally received. Out of these respects, my most Honourable Lady, I became so encouraged, as I have presumed to prefer unto your service an ENGLISH GENTLEWOMAN, one of the same Country and Family, a deserving sister of so generous a brother: Or (if you will) a pleasing Spouse to so gracious a Lover. Whom, if your Honour shall be but pleased to entertain (and your noble Candour is such, as she can expect nothing less) especially, seeing her exquisite feature takes life from his hand, whose family claims affinity with your father's house; you shall find excellently graced with sundry singular qualities, beautified with many choice endowments, and so richly adorned with divers exquisite ornaments, as her attendance shall be no derogation to your Honour, nor no touch to your unblemished Self, to retain her in your favour. The living memory of your thrice noble and heroic Father, may justly exact this addressement of mine to his Daughter: of whom my Father sometimes held such near dependence, being ever cheered by his countenance, and highly obliged to his goodness. This Memorial made me confident of a Patroness; and so much the rather, being to prefer a Maid so complete and richly qualified, as she could not choose but deserve highly from the hand of so noble a Mistress. Sure I am, the sweetness of her temper, sorts and suits well with the quality or disposition of your Honour: For she loves without any painted pretences to be really virtuous, without any popular applause to be affably gracious, without any glorious gloss to be sincerely zealous. Her Education hath so enabled her, as she can converse with you of all places, deliver her judgement conceivingly of most persons, and discourse most delightfully of all fashions. She hath been so well Schooled in the Discipline of this Age, as she only desires to retain in memory that form which is least affected but most comely; to consort with such as may improve her Knowledge and Practice of goodness by their company; to entertain those for real and individuate friends, who make actions of piety expressivest characters of their amity. Diligent you shall ever find her in her employments, serious in her advice, temperate in her Discourse, discreet in her answers. She bestows far more time in eyeing the glass of her life, to rectify her errors, if there be any, than the glass of her face in wiping off such outward stains as might blemish her beauty. Neither in preserving that, is she altogether so remiss, as not to retain that seemly grace in her feature, as may put her in remembrance of the unexpressive beauty and bounty of her Maker. Neat she goes usually in her Attire, which she puts on with more care than cost. And to these she adds such a well-seeming grace, as she bestows more beauty on them, than she receives from them. Fantastic habits or foreign fashions are so far from taking her, as with a sleight but sweet contempt they are disvalue by her. She wonders how a wise state should employ so much time in inventing variety of disguises to disfigure their Shape. This makes her desire rather to be out of request with time, then with a civil and well-composed mind; whose honour it is to be prized more by her own internal worth, than any outward wear. Constant she is in her Behaviour; wherein she affects little, but observes much; With a bashful admiration she smiles at these civilised simpering Dames, whose only glory it is to affect a kind of reserved state; which, as they hold, consists principally in a mined speech, set look, or ginger pace▪ She loves always to be herself, nor to entertain aught which may estrange her from herself. So as, there is nothing in the whole posture of her Behaviour, but with a native graceful propriety doth infinitely become her. Take upon her to instruct others, she will not, such is her Humility; albeit, every moving posture which comes from her, may be a line of direction unto others to follow her. Compliment she affects not, as the world takes it. The word in his own native and unborrowed signification is good, and in that sense she admits it; but to be restrained to an enforced formality, she cannot relish it. Whence it is, that she prefers the incomparable Liberty of her mind, before the mutable formality of a deluded age. She desires to be Complete in the exercise of goodness; to improve her Honour not by titles but a lovely and lively proficience, graced with a continuate practice in all virtues. She cannot endure this later introduced kind of Compliment, which consists in Cringies, Congees, or supple Salutes. A cheerful modesty is her best Compliment, which she ever wears about her as her chiefest ornament. Decency she affects in her clothes, affability in her Discourse; she hath made a covenant with her eyes never to wander, nor intentively to bestow themselves on any other object than the glory of her Maker. A proper personage is no such attractive motive to her eye, to make her lose herself. Whatsoever she undertakes beseems her, because she affects nought but what naturally becomes her. Her beauty is her own; and whatsoever else may better accomplish her. Her paths are evenly virtuous; her desires truly religious; Piety is her practise; which she expresseth so fully in every action; as the whole course of her well-disposed life is not so much as justly conscious of the least aspersion. So highly she values her Estimation, as she will not engage it to suspicion. Promises cannot tempt her, nor hope of advancement taint her. She wonders one should prefer a conceit of being great, before a desire of appearing good. Protesting Lovers she holds for no better than deceiving Lures. Be their vows of service never so incessant, their assaults never so violent; her resolves have vowed her constant. Hope of Profit cannot surprise her, nor thought of Pleasure vainly delude her. Estimation she holds her highest grace, with which untainted she purposeth to go to her Grave. She knows how to fancy; and in her she retains what she fancies most; A chaste soul: this is that she loves, and with which she cheerfully lives. She was never yet acquainted with a passionate Ah me; nor a careless folding of her arms, as if the thought of a prevailing Lover had wrought in her thoughts some violent Distemper. So seriously doth she task herself to employment, as she never reserves so much time as to treat of so light a subject. Yet she unfeignedly vows, that if it be ever her fortune to make her Choice, her constant affection must never admit any Change. To be Generous in every action, hath been ever the height of her ambition. Howsoever she might boast of Descent, her desire is to raise it by Desert. She holds, no family can be truly Generous, unless it be nobly virtuous. Her life must express the line from whence she came. She scorns to entertain one thought below herself: Or to detract from the glory of that house from whence she came. As the blood that streams through her veins was nobly derived, so must it not by any action or affection drawn from the rule of her direction, become corrupted. For Honour, she admits it, but seldom or never admires it; the Stairs by which she means to climb to it, must be fair and firm, or she will never mount them. She rather admires the Age's folly; while she observes how many hazard their high-prized liberty, for a vading glimpse of popular glory. Her desires are higher seated, where they are only to be sated. A secure State consists not in styles but virtues, which are Honour's surest stays. Therefore her highest Honour reflects on her Creator, wherein she is so far from fearing, Such, to your Honour, is her zealous affection, as she makes it the sole Apology of her Presumption: which she weaves up in this Dimension: To serve some GREAT ONES I've been ofttimes wooed, But HERS I'm vowed that is both GREAT and GOOD. wherein she is so far from fearing, as she is ever wishing more Corrivals. THIS is the GENTLEWOMAN whom I have presumed here to present unto your Ladyship's service, whose sweet converse will at retired hours afford you choicest solace. Neither should you rank her amongst the lowest of your meney, will it displease her, such is her Humility: for she hath learned as well to obey as command. Nor will she spare for any pains, so her diligence may please. Only (Madam) be pleased to shine upon her with the gracious rays of your favour, to shroud her bashful endeavours under the wings of your Honour; and entertain her blushing approach with your benign Censure. So shall you find a constant desire of requital in her; and engage Him, whose intimate Zeal to your Honour recommended her, Your Ladyship's devoted servant: Richard Brathwait. TO THE GENTLEWOMAN READER. GENTLEWOMEN: I Have here presented unto your view one of your own Sex; One, whose improved Education will be no blemish but a beauty to her Nation. Peruse her, and I make little doubt, but you will so approve of her Behaviour, as you shall acknowledge her right worthy the title of a Sister. More shall you find in her, by freely conversing with her, than in those YOUNG but loose ENGLISH GENTLEWOMEN, whose long mercenary Prostitution upon the Stall, hath brought them out of request, and made them grow too Stale, by being exposed to public Sale. Many Countries hath she coasted, sundry Dangers accosted, Courts and Cities hath she frequented, to return home better freighted, and re-convey the benefit of that fraught to this Island, where she was first bred and now arrived. Do ye itch after Fashion? She is for you; yet not that, which the vanity of this Age admits; but what Modesty only affects. She hath observed much in foreign Courts, which deserved rather Contempt than Imitation; this she would not for a world introduce into a well-governed State; so tender she is of her Fame, as no place nor person shall derive from her the least stain. Whatsoever she hath commendably seen, is no less fully than faithfully shown, and with that temperate style drawn, as in every line some one precept of Virtue seems to shine. Neither in this her strict or serious Observation of Times, doth she resemble those Lamiaes, who use to take their eyes with them when they go abroad, but lie them aside when they come home: No; so little doth she favour herself, as she prefers others Censures before her own; and in no one particular so much expresseth her own true glory, as in the constant practice of Humility. Hence it is, that she is no curious Pryer into others actions, nor too censorious a Reproover of others Directions: being, indeed, a TIRESIAS in the eyeing or de●scrying of others errors, an ARGUS in her own. What is good and amiable in the eye of virtue, she embraceth with an affectionate tender; making it her highest honour, to promote the glory of her Maker. But lest by being too serious, she might become tedious; she will not stick to walk abroad with you into more pleasing groves or pastures of Delight: where she will converse with you of Love, and intermix her Discourse with such time-beguiling Tales, as variety shall no less sharpen your attention, than the modesty of her Method beget admiration. Every subject she treats of, you shall find so equally tempered with profit and delight; as the one shall no less benefit your mind, than the other solace your ear. She can reprove without gall, blush without guilt, love without guile, live without gain. Her gain is to purchase virtue more followers; her guile, to deprive the world of her favourers; her guilt, to defeat all vicious pioneers; her gall, to dis-relish all Voluptuous practisers. She can discourse of Love without lightness; converse with Love without looseness; and consort with those she loves without lewdness. She knows how to retain a seemly state without pride; to express herself praiseworthy without selfe-praise; and in all her actions to make Virtue her highest prize. Humility, which is the princess of Virtues, the conqueress of Vices, the mirror of Virgins, and Crown of Christians, she so much honours, as she values it above all humane glory: whence it is, that she hath ever reaped more spiritual profit by disesteem then selfe-esteeme. Day by day she recreates herself in her Garden of goodwill; and in her recreation, she makes this her soule-solacing Meditation: Who be they that neighbour near me, and whose weak estates stand in need of me? Concluding with this charitable resolution: There is none so poor, but to my power I will relieve, so long as I live, for the honour of his Image whom I love. She divides her day into hours, her hours into holy tasks. Employment takes away all occasions of distraction. Should she suffer a light or indisposed thought to work upon her imagination: or give way to any such intruder to disturb the peace of her inward house, she would endure herself worse for many years, and inflict upon her extravagant affections such a censure, as might deter them thenceforth to wander. She distates none more than these busy housewives, who are ever running into discourse of others families, but forget their own. Neither holds she it sufficient to be only an Housekeeper; or, Snayle-like, to be still under roof: she partakes therefore of the Pismire in providing, of the Sareptan widow in disposing: holding ever an absent providence better than an improvident presence. She is no common Frequenter of public feasts, but if neighbourhood require it, she will admit of it: wherein she demeans herself so civilly, as there is no discreet person but joys in her society. There is nothing must beget in her a distemper, having ever a tender eye o'er her honour. In the report of others praises she is attentive, but deaf to her own. Be she in places of public resort or privately retired, she ever enjoys herself; neither can excess of birth transport her, or any cross occurrent much perplex her. There is nought that aliens her mind more from those with whom she consorts, than an immodest discourse, which she interrupts with a discreet anger. Wheresoever she sets her rest, she makes Virtue her guest; whom she entertains with so sweet an embrace, as nothing can divide them: so firm and inviolable is the league that is betwixt them. She conceives no small delight in Educating the young and unexperienced Damsels of your sex: wherein she retains an excellent faculty and facility. It shall not be amiss therefore for you who have Daughters, to recommend them to her direction, whose government is such, as neither her too much indulgence shall spoil them; nor restraint dull them. Whatsoever she in many years hath learned (so desirous is she to benefit where her Observations may afford profit) she is willing to impart; to the end she may procure Her more servants, whom she religiously hath ever vowed to serve. Long hath she been a Learner, neither is she ashamed to be so still. Only for Virtue's honour, is she become a Teacher; that the Younger may be instructed by those that are Elder; the undisciplined by such as are riper. Neither shall you find her show in performing what she hath so perfectly learned: For her very Life is a continued line of Direction, being solely dedicated to a virtuous profession. Saint Cyprian did sharply reprove a rich woman, for coming into the Lord's Temple without her Oblation: But this reproof she would be loath justly to incur: therefore she goes better prepared, that her portion of Glory may be sooner shared: having an Oblation in her hand, Devotion in her heart, and a Crown of Consolation in hope. You then, who love modesty, entertain her; for she will sort well with your humour, and through her acquaintance improve your honour. For such, who sacrifice the Morn to their Glass, the Afternoon to the Stage, and Evening to revelling; she holds no correspondence with them. These she holds for no employments; nor the Professors of them worthy her knowledge. They must not abuse time, that are commended to her trust. She is not so weary of time, neither doth she so disvalue it, as with such impertinences to consume it. Those likewise, who prefer Fashion before Decency, formal Punto'es before real Formality, and will suffer themselves to be deluded by Vanity; they must not be admitted into her family. She hath learned better things than to fool herself in a painted disguise; or to labour of that Universal disease, which the corruption of a full and flourishing State usually produceth. She hath learned with that better Sister, to choose the better part. Constant be her purposes, contentment her desires, consonant her delights. Be it then your honour to be informed by her▪ seeing her instructions are equally mixed with profit and pleasure. Now if you object, that she hath been too slow in coming, seeing her GENTLEMAN so long since arrived; hear mine answer; and suspend your Censure, by imputing this fault to our English Error: Where Venus is longer in trimming, than Mars in training: though he too, in these distracted times, hath been too slow in marching. Many provisions were required by her, before the World were to be possessed of her. Much likewise expected from her, before the World had knowledge of her; this made her the longer to retire, that she might profit the more in her return. May you, Gentlewomen, be the instance of it; so shall both the Author and his Labour rejoice in it. To draw then to a Conclusion, lest my Por●ell rise too high for my Building; As you are not to expect from her any guga-tyres, toys, or trifles; love-sented gloves, amorous potions, perfumed pictures, or lovesick powders; so she doubts not, but to find in you an Ear, prompt to attention; a Tongue, clear of invection; a Spirit, free from detraction: with an Heart apt to harbour affection. Now for the Volume, I had purposely made it more portable, that it might become your more sociable follower; had not my observation told me, that albeit amiableness consist in a lovely feature, the goodliness of a Gentlewoman rests in her comely Stature. Virtue can never be shown in too large a Volume: nor Vice scantled by too small a proportion. Ample Iliads are too straight for the one: little Models too large for the other. Besides, this corresponded better with the Portraiture of the ENGLISH GENTLEMAN, her affianced Lover. For the Margin, I have not charged it with many Notes, lest you should neglect the Garment, by being taken too much with the border. Improve it to your best profit, and let GOD have the glory of it. THE ENGLISH GENTLEWOMAN. Argument. The Necessity of Apparel; Of the Use and Abuse of Apparel; Two means by which the Use may be inverted to Abuse; That Apparel most comely, which confers on the Wearer most native beauty, and most honour on her Country. APPAREL. HAD ADAM never committed sin, Observat. 1 The necessity of Apparel. he had never needed figge-leaves, to cover his shame. Sin made him fly to the grove for shelter, and shame compelled him to play the artless Tailor, and through mere necessity to make him a Cover. Well enough was he before that time attired, albeit naked: and so happily stated, as we are to imagine, that ignorance kept him not from the knowledge of his nakedness, but that his original purity freed him from these necessities. But no sooner was the forbidden fruit tasted, then poor Adam became tainted, his nakedness discovered; so as now for honour of modesty, he must of necessity betake himself to that science, whereto (being free till that time) he was never bound Apprentice. His inhibited taste made him sensible (and therein more miserable) of what before he felt not. No distemperature of cold or heat could before that time annoy him. Now his failing in performing what he ought, brings him to a feeling of that he never knew. Now tender Eve, whose temperate repose ministered her all content in a sweet and cheerful Arbour, with all the varieties and delicacies of nature, feels a shaking and shivering in her joints: Such a strange distemper hath the taste of an Apple wrought in her. She must fit herself then to endure that with patience, which she procured to herself and second self, through disobedience; and put on what before she needed not, a Veil to cover her nakedness, and subject herself to these Necessities. It is true, that Clothing keeps the body warm two ways: By keeping in the natural heat of the body; and by keeping out the accidental cold of the Air. All Creatures enter the world sheelded and shrouded, save only poor man, who enters lists naked. Tender and delicate h● is by nature; more subject to prejudice by distemper, than any other Creature. Now to fence himself against all occurrents, and the better to endure all intemperate violence, the Divine Providence hath accommodated itself to his Necessity, from the very first entrance of his infancy: yet were it fit, when he reflects upon himself thus decked and attired, to recall to mind the prime occasion of these Necessities. So equally tempered was the Air where he first breathed; so far from the distemper of heat or cold freed; with such variety of all delights stored; as then in all happiness he seemed to be stated: but presently after his fall, began these to fail. That soil, which before was naturally fruitful, became wild without manuring: Those Rivers, which before were purely relishing and delighting, became muddy, brackish, and distasting: Yea, that Air, which before was ever sweetly and temperately breathing, became unseasonably scorching or freezing. Necessity then hath provided for Adam and his collapsed posterity a Coat, to shroud them from the inclemency of all seasons. And whence came this necessity, but from sin? To glory then in these necessities, is to glory in sin: Which were, as if some grave Capital offender, having committed high Treason against his Sovereign, should, notwithstanding, out of a Princely Clemency be pardoned; yet with this condition, that he should wear a Cord or Halter about his neck during his life, to put him in remembrance of his disloyalty and treason: In which Badge, this frontless Traitor should pride himself more, then if it were some ancient Crest of honour. Reflect then upon the original source of your sorrow, Eve, ye daughters of Eve. Ambition prompted her to sin, sin brought her to shame, shame to her shroud. Mere necessity compelled her to wear what before she knew not, and to provide herself of that which before she needed not. How is it then, that these rags of sin, these robes of shame, should make you idolise yourselves? How is it, that ye convert that which was ordained for necessity, to feed the light-flaming fuel of licentious liberty? Was Apparel first intended for keeping in natural heat, and keeping out accidental cold? How comes it then that you wear these thin Cobweb attires, which can neither preserve heat, nor repel cold? Of what an incurable cold would these Butterfly-habits possess the Wearer, were pride sensible of herself? Sure, these attires were not made to keep cold out, but to bring cold in. No necessity, but mere vanity, introduced these Pye-coloured fopperies amongst us. Vnvaile many of our light Courtesans, whose brothel practice hath reft them of the ornament of a woman, and you will find a strange Metamorphosis; Venus armata turned to Venus calva: We say there is no good congruity in a proud heart and a beggar's purse: Why should we then pride ourselves in that which displays our beggary? Before we had clothes, we wanted nothing; having clothes, we stand in need of all things. Primitive purity exempted us from these necessities; Original impurity subjected us to these necessities. Cold we grew in Charity, cold in every Christian duty; garments than stood we in need of, to shroud us against the tempest of a benumbed Conscience. These habits then, it appears, were ordained, at first, for necessity to shield us: Vanity had not then set invention on work, nor the age sent her phantastics abroad to traffic with foreign fashions. Winter made choice of his garment to fit the season; so did Summer, without an affected singularity, fit him to a seasonable fashion. They stood not much either upon colour or curious border; temperate heat they desired to retain, intemperate to repel; cold to keep out, natural warmth to keep in. This was that ancient times intended; this was all that they affected. Necessity enforced them to do what they did; otherwise, I am persuaded, they had not been, to this day, made. Those than that esteem more of Apparel, how gorgeous soever, then of a work of Necessity, detract from their own glory, to suit themselves in stuffs of vanity. THere is nothing in its own nature so absolutely good, The use of Apparel. but it may be corrupted; what was at first intended for some good Use, if perverted, declines into some apparent Abuse. Now, Gentlewomen, (for to you I direct this discourse) would you observe the right use, and divert in no particular from the Ordinance of Apparel; Modesty must be your guide, virtuous thoughts your guard, so shall heaven be your goal. When the Roman Princes, in their Conquests, or triumphant honours, were with acclamations and volleys of salutes received, by the general applause of the people extolled, and in their triumphal Eber or Chair of State seated; there stood always one behind them in their Throne, to pull them by the sleeve with this Memorial; Remember thou art mortal. A more useful Memorial you cannot have, than these Robes you wear, of your own frailty nor a more effectual motive to humility. Had not sin worn you out of God's favour, and rest you of your native splendour, you had never worn these habits, signals of your dishonour. I commend her for the good use which she made of her Apparel, who never eyed her garment, but she watered it with a tear, remembering what necesities her ambitious thoughts had brought her to: for by aspiring to know more than she did, she became deprived of that excellent beauty which she had. Patterns likewise of modesty you may be, and herein singularly useful by your examples, unto others of your sex. Nor can you possibly express it better, then in observing that divine precept, by learning how to array yourselves in comely apparel, with shamefastness and modesty, not with broided hair, or gold, or pearls, or costly apparel; But, as becometh women that profess the fear of God. For even after this manner in time past did the holy women, which trusted in God, tyre themselves. Here is a prescript form by way of direction, for your habit. Choicer ornaments you cannot have to adorn you; nor any fashion that will better seem you. Where you walk, you may enjoy yourselves freed from light eyes, gazing and admiring vanity: your very habit is your Testate to witness for you: loose thoughts nestle not in your bosom, nor do wand'ring distractions surprise your breast: you have learned to your highest solace, even in every motion, action, posture, gesture, to observe modesty, as an ornament to honour. For, seeing that the very habit of the mind may be best discerned and discovered by the state or carriage of the body, the disposition of the body by the habit; to avoid scandal, and retain that Christian opinion which every one ought to preserve, we are to make choice of that attire, which confers most seeming gravity on us. This the very Heathen, whose best direction was mortality, were careful of: for in the use of Apparel, they retained such constant course, as they held it the greatest blemish they could asperse upon their Nation, to introduce any new or exotic fashion, either to effeminate the dispositions of their people, or to derogate from the honour of their memorable predecessors; whose model was their direction in habit, and all other observable customs. What a simple, honest Rusticity our Ancestors retained in their wear, might be easily discerned, if we should make recourse to one of their ancient Wardroves; where antiquity may prescribe for many ages, and constantly second what antiquity had introduced. Yea, so observant were former times of those fashions which preceding ages had recommended to them, as they held it ominous to innovate, or bring in any new form, even in matters of indifferency. When Darius had altered the fashion of his Sword, which used to be Persian, into the form of the Macedonian (in the year immediately before he fought with Alexander) the Chaldees or soothsayers prophesied, that into what fashion as Darius had altered his Sword, time would reduce his State; and that the Persian glory was drawing towards her last period, by subjecting herself to the Sovereignty of Macedon. Which prediction was soon confirmed by the next years Conquest. But tell me, ye curious Dames, who hold it a derogation to your honour, to entertain aught that is vulgar; whereto were clothes first ordained, but to cover that nakedness which sin brought, and to screen that shame which the effect of sin first wrought? The use of Apparel is not to dignify the wearer, or add more beauty to the Creature. Sure I am, that a judicious eye, who measures dignity by desert, scorns to prefer the Case before the Instrument, the Rind before the Pith. Those who are worthy to be your judges, will determine your worth by what there is in you, not by what you wear on you. Let May-games and Morrices beautify themselves with Antic dress, to captivate the vulgar eye; your breeding hath been better, your judgements clearer, your observations wiser, than to stoop to such base Lures. Our life consists in the perfection or temperate infusion of natural or radical humour, or in the conservation of natural heat: to preserve this, to increase that, Nature hath provided means inward and outwards. To invert the use, is to pervert the Ordinance itself: So use the outward, that you darken not the inward; so dispose of the inward, that it may rectify the outward. Reflect on antiquity, yet no farther then may suit with the decency of the age, wherein you live. I am not ignorant, how many fashions formerly used, would in this age deserve rather derision than approvement. And that the infancy of the world had many shapes, as then but only in their Embryo or rather Conception, which succeeding times, accommodated by more exquisite artists, brought afterwards to perfection. Use your habit as an ornament of decency; let it not have the least Edging of vanity. Many Eyes are fixed on you, sundry motives of imitation are derived from you. Send not out one fruitless sigh for any fantastic fashion which you see: they cannot be sighs of compassion, that are sent merely out for fashion. Sigh rather that your Country should labour of so vain a birth, as to prefer foreign inventions before the ornament of a Maiden I'll, constant modesty. Spend not a fruitless hour in an unprofitable garnish of corruption: Use these outward dress as if you did not use them: Let them be rather your scorn than your pride; your contempt than content. Be those curious Cases of mortality decked or daubed with never so much adulterate beauty, they cannot confer upon themselves one beameling of lasting glory. Look upon those poor bases of frailty, your feet, what a tinkling they make, to partake of a lascivious meeting in privacy: Eye those rising mounts your displayed breasts, with what shameless art they woo the shamefast passenger: View those wand'ring Lamps, how they rove abroad, as if they would fly out of their Lodges, and sphere themselves in some amorous Orb. Call them home, lest, Dinah-like, they lose themselves by straying, impeach their honour by wand'ring, bring themselves woe by their lascivious wooing. Affect no fashion that may beget in your generous bosoms a light thought; Contemn that fashion which detracts from the native beauty of the feature, or which brings it to that admiration of the Creature, as it makes it forgetful of the Creator. O how contemptible a thing is man (the word may reflect equally upon either sex) if he erect not his thoughts above man! What a poor use makes that miserable creature of his being here, who bestows so much time in the Tiring-house, as he forgets what part he is to play on the Stage? O consider the preciousness of time! it is all that may be properly s●id ours. Neither can we term that portion of time which we call ours, years, or days, or hours: A moment is our portion, and the Commandingst Emperor hath no larger proportion. Of which moment, whatsoever is past, is not now: and whatsoever is to come, is not yet. Eye then your Hourglass, vye in tears with grains of sand. Bestow not this little scantling, this moment shorter than nothing, in too curiously attiring of vanity, but in meditating of your own frailty, and redeeming the time you have lost in security. As Apparel was ordained for necessity, use it with Christian civility. In observing this, you make the use good, which shall hereafter redound to your greater gain. O But the misery and levity of this age is such, as that becomes generally lest affected, The Abuse of Apparel. which adorns us most; that valued most, which beseems us least. Time was indeed, and may that time once reshine upon us, when the only flower to be loved of women, was a native red, which was shamefastness. The face knew not then what painting was, whose adulterate shape takes now acquaintance from the Shop. Then were such women matter of scandal to Christian eyes, which used painting their skin, powdering their hair, darting their eye. Our Commerce with foreign Nations was not for fashions, feathers and follies. There was distinction in our attires; differences of ranks and qualities; a civil observance of decent habits; which conferred no less glory on our Isle at home, than victorious mannagements by the prowess of our Inhabitants did abroad. If we reflect on them, we must of necessity blush at ourselves; seeing, what we have received for use, we have converted to abuse. That distinction which decency found out for habits virile and feminine, what commixture hath it found in latter times? What near resemblance and relation hath women to man's: suiting their light feminine skirts with manlike doublets? Semiramis, that victorious Princess, commanded all to wear Tires upon their heads, and to put upon them woman's apparel without distinction, that she might reign securely without exception: Thus the comely habit of modesty became a pretended veil to an usurped Sovereignty. A feminine Regiment occasioned this Ornament: Invention than became a project of Policy, and found no head to look out from a light Balcone or Prospect of vanity; But these succeeding times have tired our women with tires; translating them to a plume of Feathers. Fashion is now ever under fail: the Invention ever teeming, Fantastic Wits ever breeding. More time spent how to abuse time, and corrupt licentious youth, than how to address employment for the one, or to rectify the distempers of the other. Take a survey of all degrees, and tell me what uniformity you find in this particular. And to make instance in three several places (for to these all others may have proper relation) take a more precise and punctual perusal of City, Court, and Country; and return me a brief of your Survey. In the first, you shall find many grave Matrons, modest Maids, devont Widows: but are these all? No; with these you shall find a strangely mixed generation: Some affecting nothing more than what is most novel and fantastic: Others envying what they disdainfully see in others; which fashion rather than they will miss, they will not stick to set their honour at sale: All, or most, true Biantines, carrying all their wealth about them. For the second, you shall find, amongst many other plants of promising growth and excellent proficience, sundry sweet-sented sprigs of Cinnamon, whose rind is worth all the body. No discourse can relish their formal palate, but fashion; if Eves Kirtle should be now shown them, how they would gear their Grandam? For the last, though it be long ere they creep into form, having once attained it, they can take upon them as unbeseeming a State in a Country Pew, as if they were Ladies for that year, and had been bred in the Art of Mincing since their childhood▪ But what are these, but such, whose expense of time is scarcely valued? Sacrificing more hours to their Looking-glass, than they reserve minutes to lament their defects. Such, whose virtuous thoughts never harbour the least conceit that may betray their honour, or deprave those more noble parts wherewith they are endowed; scorn to drown their better part in these dregs of sensuality. Virtue is their attendant, Honour their object, all inferior delights their lowest subjects. Day by day have these their task imposed, that the poison of sloth may be better avoided: No day passeth without a line, no action without a limit: observing the course of that virtuous Mirror, of whom it is said, In distinct hours she did divide the day, To walk, to work, to meditate, and pray. Much different from this pious resolution, was that Libertines impious conclusion, who held that none could be frequently devout in prayer, and fashionably decent in attire. She bestowed too much time on her Glass, to reserve any for her Lamp. Pride had exiled her zeal; delicacy of habit, sanctity of heart. Her day might be easily divided: She bestowed the forenoon on her skin, the afternoon on a Play, clozing her Evening Lecture with a rear supper: and this was her Christian Task. Miserable is the condition of that Creature, who, so her skin be sleake, cares not if her soul be rough: so her outward habit be pure and without blemish, values little her inward garnish. Such an one hath made a firm Contract with vanity, clozing her contemptuous age with a fearful Catastrophe. Thus far have we discoursed of the effect or abuse itself, we are now to treat of those two sources, from whence these abuses properly arise; to wit, Delicacy in being more curious in our Choice of Apparel than necessity or decency doth require; secondly, Superfluity, in storing more variety and change of raiments than either nature needs, or reason would admit, were she not transported with a sensual affection, by giving way to what unbounded appetite requires. IN the search of any Mineral, How the use of Apparel may be inverted to abuse. we are first to dig for the vein: and in the curing of any malevolent effect, we are duly and seriously to inquire the producing cause, that by stopping the Spring or source, we may stay the violence of the stream. We are then to insist of those two precedent means, by which the use may be inverted to abuse; and that which of itself is approvable, if observed with decency, becomes justly reprehensible by corrupting so necessary and consequent an use, either by delicacy, which weakens and effeminates the spirit, or by Superfluity, which ever darkens the beameling of reason with the Cloud of sense. Reproof touching Apparel may be occasioned from four respects: First, when anyone weareth Apparel above their degree, exceeding their estate precious attire. Whence it is that Gregory saith; There be some who are of opinion, that the wear of precious or sumptuous Apparel is no sin: Which if it were no fault, the divine Word would never have so punctually expressed, nor historically related, how the Rich man, who was tormented in hell, was clothed with Purple and Silk. Whence we may note, that touching the matter or subject of attire, humane curiosity availeth highly. The first stuff or substance of our garments, was very mean; to wit, Skin with Wool, Whence it is we read, that God made Adam and his wife Coats of Skins, that is, of the Skins of dead beasts. Afterwards (see the gradation of this vanity derived from humane singularity) they came to Pure Wool, because it was lighter than Skins. After that to rinds of trees, to wit, Flax. After that to the dung and ordure of Worms, to wit, Silk. Lastly, to Gold and Silver, and precious Stones. Which preciousness of attire highly displeaseth God. For instance whereof (which the very Pagan's themselves observed) we read that the very first among the Romans, who ever wore Purple, was struck with a Thunderbolt, and so died suddenly, for a terror and mirror to all succeeding times, that none should attempt to lift himself proudly against God in precious attire. The second point reprehensible is, Softness or Delicacy of Apparel: Soft clothes introduce soft minds. Delicacy in the habit, begets an effeminacy in the heart. john Baptist, who was sanctified in his mother's womb, wore sharp and rough garments. Whence we are taught, that the true servant of God is not to wear garments for beauty or delight, but to cover his nakedness; not for State or Curiosity, but necessity and convenience. Christ saith in his Gospel, They that are clad in soft raiments, are in King's houses. Whence appeareth a main difference betwixt the servants of Christ, and of this world. The servants of this world seek delight, honour, and pleasure in their attire: whereas the servants of Christ so highly value the garment of innocence, as they loathe to stain it with outward vanities. It is their honour to put on Christ jesus; other robes you may rob them of and give them occasion to joy in your purchase. The third thing reprovable is, foreign Fashions: When we desire nothing more than to bring in some Outlandish habit different from our own; Zephan. 1. in which respect (so Apishly-anticke is man) it becomes more affected than our own. Against such the Lord threateneth, I will visit the Princes and the King's children, and all such as are clothed with strange Apparel. Which strange Apparel is after divers fashions and inventions, wholly unknown to our Ancestors. Which may appear sufficiently to such, who within this 30, or 40, or 60. years never saw such cutting, carving, nor indenting as they now see. The fourth thing reprovable is, Superfluity of Apparel, expressed in these three particulars: first, in those who have divers changes and suits of clothes; who had rather have their garments eaten by moths, than they should cover the poor members of Christ. The naked cry, the needy cry, the shreekingly complain unto us, how they miserably labour and languish of hunger and cold. What avails it them that we have such changes of raiments nearly plaited and folded; rather than we will supply them, they must be starved? How do such rich Moath-wormes observe the Doctrine of Christ when he saith in his Gospel; He that hath two Coats let him give one to him that hath none? Secondly, we are to consider the Superfluity of such who will have long garments purposely to seem greater: yet, which of these can add one cubit to his stature? This puts me in remembrance of a conceited story which I have sometimes heard, of a diminutive Gentleman, who demanding of his Tailor, what yards of Satin would make him a Suit, being answered far short in number of what he expected: with great indignation replied, Such an one of the Guard to my knowledge had thrice as much for a Suit and I will second him. Which his Tailor with small importunacy condescended to, making a Gargantua's Suit for this Ounce of man's flesh, reserving to himself a large portion of shreads, purposely to form a fitter proportion for his Ganymede shape. The third Superfluity ariseth from their vanity, who take delight in wearing great sleeves, misshapen Elephantine bodies, trains sweeping the earth, with huge poakes to shroud their fantastic heads, as if they had committed some egregious fact which deserved that censure: for in the Eastern Countries it hath been usually observed, that such light Women as had distained their honour, or laid a public imputation on their name, by consenting to any libidinous act, were to have their heads sowed up in a poke, to proclaim their shame, and publish to the world the quality of their sin. NOw to insist more punctually on that effeminatour both of youth and age, Delicacy of Apparel. Delicacy of Apparel; I would have our Daughters of Albion, reflect upon themselves, those poor shells of corruption: what a trimming and tricking they bestow on their brittle houses. Petrarch's advice was, that we should not be afraid though our outhouses, these structures of our bodies, were shaken, so our souls, the guests of our bodies, fared well. Whereas chose, these, whose only care is to delude the outward appearance with a seeming fair, so they may preserve the varnish, disvalue the foundation. O may this folly be a stranger to our Nation! To allay which fury, attemper which frenzy, I hold no receipt more sovereign, then to enter into a serious meditation of your frailty: As first to consider, what you were before your birth; secondly, what from your birth to your death; lastly, what after death. If you reflect upon the first, you shall find that you have been, what before you were not, afterwards were what now you are not; first made of vile matter (see the Emblem of humane nature) wrapped in a poor skin, nourished in an obscure place, your Coat the second skin, till you came to a sight of the Sun, which you entertained with a shriek, implying your original sin. Thus attired, thus adorned came you to us; what makes you then so unmindful of that poor case wherein you came among us? Hath beauty, popular applause, youthful heat, or wealth taken from you the knowledge of yourselves? Derive your pedigree, and blush at your matchless folly, that pride should so highly magnify itself in dust, or glory most in that which brings with it the most shame. Why do you walk with such haughty necks? why do you extol yourselves so highly in these Tabernacles of earth? Attend and consider; you were but vild corrupted seed at the first; and now fuller of pollution then at the first. Entering the world with a shriek to express your ensuing shame, you became afterwards exposed to the miseries of this life and to sin; in the end worms and worms meat shall you be in the grave. Why then are you proud, ye dusty shrines, ye earthen vessels, seeing your conception was impurity, birth misery, life penalty, death extremity? Why do ye embellish and adorn your flesh with such port and grace; which within some few days worms will devour in the grave? Mean time you neglect the incomparable beauty of your souls. For with what ornaments do ye adorn them? With what sweet odours or spiritual graces do ye perfume them? With what choice Flowers of piety and devotion do ye trim them? What Habits do ye prepare for them, when they must be presented before him who gave them? How is it that ye so disesteem the soul, preferring the flesh before her? For the Mistress to play the Handmaid, the Handmaid the Mistress, is a great abuse. There can be no success in that family, where the household is managed so disorderly. O restrain your affections, limit your desires, bear an equal hand to the better part! The Building cannot stand unless you remove the rubbish from the foundation. The Soul in the body is like a Queen in her Palace. If you would then have this little Commonwealth within you to flourish, you must with timely providence suppress all factious and turbulent molesters of her peace: your passions, especially those of vain glory, must be restrained; motives to humility cherished; chaste thoughts embraced; all devious and wand'ring cogitations excluded; that the soul may peaceably enjoy herself, and in her Palace live secured. Whereto if you object, that this is an hard lesson; you cannot despise the world nor hate the flesh; tell me where are all those lovers of the world, cherishers of the flesh, which not long since were among us? Nothing now remaineth of them but dust and worms Consider diligently (for this consideration will be a Counterpoise to all vainglory) what they now are, and what they have been. Women they were as you are: they have eat, drunk, laughed, spent their days in jollity, and now in a moment gone down to hell. Here their flesh is apportioned to worms, there their souls appointed to hell fire: till such time as being gathered together to that unhappy society, they shall be rolled in eternal burnings, as they were before partakers with them in their vices. For one punishment afflicteth, whom one love of sin affecteth. Tell me, what profiteth them their vainglory, short joy, worldly power, pleasure of the flesh, evil got wealth, a great family, and concupiscence arising carnally? Where now is their laughter? Where their jests? Where their boasting? Where their arrogance? From so great joy, how great heaviness? After such small pleasure, how great unhappiness? From so great joy they are now fallen into great wretchedness, grievous calamity, unsufferable torments. What hath befallen them, may befall you; being Earth of Earth, slime of slime: Of Earth you are, of Earth you live, and to Earth you shall return. Take this with you for an infallible position in these your Cottages of Corruption: If you follow the flesh, you shall be punished in the flesh: if you be delighted in the flesh, you shall be tormented in the flesh: for by how much more your flesh is cockered in this world with all delicacy; by so much more shall your souls be tormented in hell eternally. If you seek curious and delicate raiments, for the beauty and bravery of your raiments shall the moth be laid under you, and your Covering shall be Worms. And this shall suffice to have been spoken touching Delicacy of Apparel: we are now to descend briefly to the second branch, Superfluity; whereof we intent to discourse with that brevity, as the necessity of the Subject, whereof we treat, shall require, and the generality of this spreading malady may enforce. DIvine is that saying, Superfluity of Apparel. and well worthy your retention: The covetous person before he gain loseth himself, and before he take aught is taken himself. He is no less wanting to himself in that which he hath, than in that which he hath not. He finds that he lost not, possesseth that he owes not, detains that he ought not, & hates to restore what he injuriously enjoys. So unbounded is the affection, or rather so depraved is the avaricious man's inclination, as he cannot contain his desires within bounds, not enter parley with reason, having once slaved his better part to the sovereignty of a servile affection. This may appear even in this one particular. Food and raiment are a Christians riches: wherein he useth that moderation, as he makes that Apostolical rule his Christian direction; Having food and raiment, I have learned in all things to be contented. But how miserably is this golden rule inverted, by our sensual worldling? Competency must neither be their Cater in the one, nor Conveniency their Tailor in the other. Their Table must labour of variety of dishes, and their Wardrobe of exchange of raiments. No reason more probable than this of their naked insides, which stand in need of these superfluous additaments. What myriads of indisposed hours consume these in beautifying rotten tombs! How curious they are in suiting their bodies, how remiss in preferring their soul's suit to their Maker! How much they are disquieted in their choice, how much perplexed in their change, how irresolute what they shall wear, how forgetful of what they were! This edging suits not, that pearl sorts not, this dressing likes not: off it must after all be fitted, and with a new Exchange, less seemly, but more gaudy suited. The fashion that was in prime request but yesterday, how it begins to dif-rellish the wearer, as if it had lost the beauty by unseasonable weather; thus is fashion fallen into a quotidian Fever: See our completest Fashion-mongers, how much they tire themselves with their attiring, how they trouble themselves with their trimming! Had we more new Exchanges erected, we should have them plenteously peopled, and with such variety of feminine fancies stored, that invention should sooner lose her spirit, than our fantastic Dames their appetite. And to take a fuller view of vanity, that pride may blush at her own formality; observe what Babies, most of our fashion affecters be! Rare trinkets they have got, to improve their Projectors gain; yet having won them, they know not how to wear them. A foreign Tyre-woman must have a constant pension, to put this love-bespotted Idol into a more complete fashion. It seems wonderful to me, that they are not wholly crushed, with that onerous burden with which they are pressed. What a shop of guga nifles hang upon one back? Here the remainder of a greater work, the relics of ancient manor converted to a pearl Chain. There the moiety of an ill-husbanded demaine reduced to a Carcanet. Long trains must sweep away long acres: the Epidemical vanity of this age doth exact it; and she is held least worthy affecting, that doth least affect it. What? says my delicate Madam; Is it for one of my rank or descent to affect what is vulgar? how then should I become popular? I confess, we are all composed of one Earth, yet is there to be presupposed a difference in our birth. Were it fitting that I should fall off, either from that delicacy which is generally approved, or that variety which is by our more generous formalists applauded? What avails a mighty fortune to a miserable disposer? Or brave means, where a base mind is the dispenser? Apparel must be with delicacy sorted, variety suited, or the dignity of the person, be it never so conspicuous, will be obscured. Admit variety be mere superfluity, at worst it is but the age's vanity; which is such an universal malady, as it pleads exemption without farther apology. Whereto I answer; it is true, the Age labours of this disease, where the eye becomes a determiner of our worth, by the outward habit which we wear: It reflects not on what is in us, but what is on us. She is not to be accounted a Court visitant, who restrains herself either in her choice of delicacy, or variety of habit. What then? Shall a vicious or effeminate age deprave your judgement? Or a corrupt time deprive you of judgement? No; you have more absolute perfections within you, than to be blemished with these imperfections which you too frequently carry about you. The more you display your pye-coloured flag of vanity, the more Lures you throw out of losest liberty; the more foments you use of soule-soyling delicacy, the deeper Lodging you bespeak yourselves in the Lake of eternal misery. To such I only speak, who, so they may furnish themselves of a dainty artist, to teach them how to die well, make it the least of their care how to live well. These who love to die their hair, but never change the dye of their corrupted heart: these will not stick with frontless impudence to bolster their depraved liberty; they may be, without control, dispensers and disposers of their own. This variety and delicacy wherein they express themselves by an especial mark of distinction from others, they derive it from the affluence of their own fortunes, and not from others: which being so justly enjoyed, and without injury, admits no exception in all probability. Whereto I reply, with the words of a Divine Father, Art not thou, whosoe'er thou be, a Robber, who hast received goods as a Steward or dispenser, and entitlest thyself the impropriator or owner? for what fair glozes or pretences soever thou makest for thyself, to gild thy shame, or mince thy sin, it is the bread of the needy, which thou withholdest; the Coat of the naked, which in thy Chest thou storest; the shoes of the barefoot, which with thee lie rotting; the coin of the beggar, which with thee lies moulding. Away then with these Superfluous dress; you see daily objects of your Charity, bring out your Wardrobe, and clothe the naked. That which you so prodigally spent upon yourselves, convert it to the more glorious attiring of your naked souls. See that your King's daughter be all glorious within, that the King of Kings may take pleasure in her. Let not so precious an Image be defaced, so specious a Virgin defiled, so glorious a Creature dishonoured. Instead of Delicy, deck yourselves modestly; instead of Superfluity, out of your variety communicate freely to others necessity. We are now to descend briefly to the last branch of this first Observation, declaring, how, That Apparel is most comely, which confers on the Wearer most native beauty, and most honour on her Country. AS that is ever held most generous which is least affected, That Apparel most comely, which confers on the Wearer most native beauty, and most honour on her Country. most genuine which is least forced; so there is nothing which confers more true glory on us, then in displaying our own Country's garb by that we wear upon us. The Crow in the fable was sharply taxed for her borrowed feathers: The fable, though it spoke of a Crow, the Moral pointed at a man. Habit (we say) is a Custom; why should it be our custom to change our Habit? With what constancy some other Nations observe their native attire, Histories, both ancient and modern, will sufficiently inform us. Nothing is held more contemptible with them, then apishly to imitate foreign fashions: Prescription is their Tailor, antiquity their Tutor. Amongst the ancient Heathen, even their very habit distinguished Widows from Matrons, Matrons from Virgins. So as not only sexes, states, conditions, years, but even lineages, races, and families were remarkably discovered. We usually observe such a fashion to be French, such an one Spanish, another Italian, this Dutch, that Poland; mean time where is the English? surely, some precious Elixir extracted out of all these. She will neither rely on her own invention, nor compose herself to the fashion of any one particular Nation, but make herself an Epitomised confection of all. Thus becomes she not only a stranger to others, but to herself. It were to be wished, that as our Country is jealous of her own invention in contriving, so she were no less cautelous in her choice of wearing. Gregory the Great thought that Angles did nearly symphonize with Angels, not so much in letter, as in favour and feature; Were it not pity that these should darken their beauty with veils of deformity? Were it not pity that there should not be an Analogy in their name and nature; that the Angles might partake of Angels in nature as well as feature? But the gold has changed his colour; our purer mintage her native splendour. Truth is, there is nothing which confers more native beauty on the wearer, then to be least affective in whatsoever she shall wear. She asperseth a great blemish on her better part, who ties herself to that formality, as she dare not put off the least trifle that she wears, nor put on aught more than she wears, lest she should lose the opinion of Complete. There is a native modesty even in attire as well as gesture, which better becomes, and would more fully accomplish her, if fashion were not such a pearl in her eye, as it keeps her from the sight of her own vanity. I confess, light heads will be easily taken with such toys: yea, I have sometimes observed a fantastic dressing strike an amorous inconsiderate Gooseling sooner into a passionate Ah me, with a careless lovesick wreathing of his enfolded arms, than some other more attractive object could ever do. But what is the purchase of one of these Greene-wits worth? What benefit can a young Gentlewoman reap in enjoying him, who scarcely ever enjoyed himself? Means he may have, but so meanly are they seconded by inward abilities, as his state seems fitter to manage him, than he to marshal it. A long Lock he has got, and the art to frizle it; a Ring in a string, and the trick to handle it: A whole Forest of Synonimies, has he by retail purchased; which, like so many dis-jointed Similees, impeach his novellisme of palpable Nonsense. For his discourse, to give him his true Character, his silence approves him better; for his wit, he may laugh at a conceit, and his conceit ne'er the wiser; for his other parts, disclaiming his substance, I appeal to his picture. Now, Gentlewoman, tell me, do you trim yourself up for this Popinjay? Would you have the fool to wear you, after so many follies have outworn you? Let modesty suit you, that a discreeter mate may choose you. Be it your prime honour to make civility your director. This will incomparably more grace you, than any fantastic attire; which though it beget admiration, it clozeth always with derision. You cannot possibly detract more from the renown of your Country, where you received birth and education, than by too hot a quest or pursuit after Outlandish fashions. Play not the Dotterel in this too apish and servile Imitation; let other Countries admire your Constancy and Civility: while they reflect both on what you wear, and what you are. Be it your glory to improve your Country's fame. Many eyes are fixed on you, and many hearts will be taken with you, if they behold those two Ornaments, Modesty, and Humility, ever attending you: Discretion will be more taken and enamoured with these, than toys and feathers. There is nothing so rough but may be polished; nor ought so outwardly fair but may be disfigured. Whereas the beauty of these two cannot by adulterate Art be more graced, by the aged furrows of time become defaced, or by any outward Occurrent impaired. There are many beauteous and sumptuous Cases, whose Instruments are out of tune. These may please the eye, but they neither lend nor leave a sweet accent in the Eare. May-buds of fading beauty; Fruits which commonly fall before they be ripe, and tender small sweetness to them that reap. These Baths of voluptuous delights, chaste feet disdain to approach. Virtue must either be suited with Consorts like herself, or they must give her leave solely to enjoy herself. Be you Maids of honour to this maiden Princess. Consecrate your day to virtuous actions, your night to useful recollections. Think how this World is your Stage, your Life an Act. The Tiring-house, where you bestowed such care, cost and curiosity, must be shut up when your Night approacheth. Prepare Oil for your virgin Lamps; marriage robes for your chaste souls; that advancing the honour of your Country here on Earth, in your translation from hence, you may find a Country in heaven. THE ENGLISH GENTLEWOMAN. Argument. Behaviour reflects on three particulars; How to behave herself in Company; How in privacy: That Behaviour most approved, which is clearest from affectation freed. BEHAVIOUR. BEhaviour being an apt composure, of the body in arguments of Discourse and Action, Observat. 2. expresseth every person in so fair a Character, that if his breast were transparent, he could not be displayed fuller. Albeit, some love to become so estranged or retired rather from the eye of the world, as they have made it their highest art and absolutest aim, to shroud themselves from the conceit or discussion of man: by entering covenant or contract with Dissimulation, to appear least to the eye, what they are most in heart. Of this stamp was Tiberius, who gloried in nothing so much (neither indeed had he many demeriting parts to glory in) as in cunningly cloaking his foul purposes with fair pretences, going invisible, and deluding his Subjects anxious resolutions with a seeming good. Sometimes imminency of danger, begetting an apprehension of fear, will produce this eflect: whence it was, that Agrippina in Tacitus knowing her life to be attempted by Nero, knew well that her only remedy was to take no notice of the treason. Neither is it rare to find a stayed look, and a stayed thought in one and the same subject. But for as much as this is held the seldomest erring Index, ever expressing innocent thoughts the best, and discovering disloyal thoughts the soon, we are to proceed to such particulars as the Subject principally reflects on: which are three; Action, Behaviours eflects on three particulars. Affection, Passion: whereon we purpose so to insist, as what deserves approvement in each of these particulars, may be by our Nobly disposed Gentlewomen cheerfully entertained, carefully retained, and to the improvement of their Fame, the choicest Odour, chiefest honour of true Nobility, employed. Action. Virtue is the life of action, action the life of man: without the former, all actions are fruitless: without the latter, all our days are useless. Now in this one Subject, it is strange to observe what diversity of active dispositions we shall find. Some are employed to the purpose, but they are so remiss in their employment, as they lose the benefit of it. Others are employed to no purpose, making a passing of time a mere pastime, coming as far short of one useful action at their death, as they were incapable of it at their birth. Others sleep out their time in careless security; saluting the morning with a sacrifice to their Glass, the Noon with a luscious repast, the Afternoon with a Play or a Pallet repose, the Evening with a wanton consort, accoutred with a reere-banket, to belull the abused soul with the sleep of an incessant surfeit. Others have crept into such an Apish formality; as they cannot for a world discourse of aught without some mimmicke gesture or other; which, seem it never so complete to them, appears ridiculous to the beholder. This was Semphronia's error, for which she was generally taxed, before ever her honour was publicly tainted. What a tinkling you shall observe some to make with their feet, as if they were forthwith to dance a Morris? They are ever in motion like Puppets, but in actions of goodness mere Punies. Their pace is a Pavin in the street; their look a Lure to a lascivious attempt; They express nothing by their gesture worthy the image they bear. Besides, who is he, whose judgement will not tax these of lightness, by these light an uncivil appearances? A woman's honour is of higher esteem, than to be thus dis-valued. Light occasions are many times grounds of deep aspersions. Actions are to be seasoned with discretion, seconded by direction, strengthened with instruction, lest too much rashness bring the undertaker to destruction. In the Maze or Labyrinth of this life, many be our cares, mighty be our fears, strong our assailants, weak our assistants, unless we have that brazen wall within us to fortify us against all occurrents. O then, let not the least action betray you to your enemy, for you have many; within you, for they are dangerous, because domestical; without you, for they are strangers, and therefore doubtful! Let your actions be your applausivest Actors; The Scene of your life is short, so live that your noble actions may preserve your memory long. It was Seneca's counsel to his dear friend Lucilius, that whensoever he went about to do any thing, he should imagine Cato, or Scipio, or some other worthy Roman to be in presence. To second his advice, which may confer on your glorious actions eternal praise, set always before your eyes, as an imitable mirror, some good woman or other, before whom you may live, as if she eyed you, she viewed you. You may find women, though weak in ●exe and condition, yet parallels to men, for charity, chastity, piety, purity, and virtuous conversation. Re-visit those ancient families of Rome, and you shall find those famous Matrons, Octavia, Portia, Caecilia, Cornelia, make a Pagan State seem morally Christian. Nor were Nicostrata, mother to Evander, Corvina, Sapph, women less famous for Learning, than the other for blameless living. Neither have our modern times less flourished with feminine worthies, as might be illustrated with sundry eminent instances, if I would reflect upon this Subject: but this hath been the Theme of sundry Panegyric Poems, which makes me more sparing in it: Only in your behalf, and to your honour, let me retort their Critic Censure, who draw from the very Etymon of your name an occasion of error: Women are woe to men; No they're the way, To bring them homeward when they run astray. In a word, conform yourselves to such patterns as are imitable; imitate them in all such actions as are laudable; So live, that none may have occasion to speak evilly of you, if they speak truly. The memory of Dorcas liveth still; She was full of good works and alms which she did. Yea, even the very Coats and Garments which she made, while she was living, were shown the Apostle as arguments of her industry, memorials of her piety. Hence it was that Saint Jerome, that excellent pattern of holy Discipline, serious professor of Divine Doctrine, counselleth the holy Virgin Demetrias to eschew idleness: Exhorting her withal, that having done her prayers, she should take in hand wool and weaving, after the commendable example of Dorcas, that by such change or variety of works, the day might seem less tedious, and the assaults of Satan less grievous: concluding his devout Exhortation, with this definite position, I speak generally, no raiment, ornament, or habit whatsoever, shall seem precious in Christ's sight, but that which thou makest thyself, either for thine own peculiar use, or example of other Virgins, or to give unto thy Grandmother, or thy Mother, no, though thou distribute all thy goods unto the poor. See how strictly this holy Father proceeds with his religious Daughter! Yet was this Demetrias, to whom he addressed this his exhortation, a Noble Lady; not one, whom poverty did enforce to actions of such necessity: but one honourably descended, richly endowed, powerfully friended. Let this Lady be your Pattern, her action your direction, her obedience your instruction, that you may share with her in a peaceful dissolution. Entertain no time without some devout task: reflect upon the Nobleness of your descent, ennoble it with excellence of desert. For you must know true honour is not won, Until some honourable deed be done. Waste not prodigally the precious Lamp of your life without some virtuous action that may purchase love. Your time is less than a minute in respect of eternity, employ that minute so, as it may eternize your memory. Let this be your highest task; to promote the honour of your Maker, esteeming all things else a slavish and servile labour. Affection. THere is nothing which requires more discretion, than how to behave or carry ourselves while we are enthralled to affection. The Lover is ever blinded (saith wise Plato) with affection towards his beloved. Reason is laid a sleep, while Sense becomes the master Wooer. Whence came that usual saying, One cannot love and be wise. But I wholly oppose myself to their assertion, who seem thus far transported with the sensual opinion of affection. My Tenet is, One cannot truly love, and not be wise. It is a Beldame frenzy and no fancy, which gives way to fury, and admits not reason to have sovereignty. Yet in this Subjects, Gentlewomen, is your temper best tried, your discretion most required, and your Patience, ofttimes, most exercised. Look therefore how you plant it, lest you bootlesly repent it, when it is misplaced. It is most certain, there is nothing more impatient of delay than love, nor no wound more incurable while we live. There is no exemption, all have a taste of this Potion, though it have several degrees of operation. Look all about you; who so young that loves not? Or who so old, a comely feature moves not? Yet what different passions arise from one and the selfsame Subject? Here, Gentlewomen, you shall see some of your Sex so surprised with affection, as it bursts out into violent extremes; their discourse is semi-breved with sighs, their talk with tears; they walk desperately forlorn, making Lands and desolate Groves their disconsolate Consorts. Their eyes are estranged from sleep, their weakened appetite from repast, their wearied limbs from repose. Melancholy is their sole melody; They have made a Contract with grief, till grief bring them to their grave. And these poor wenches are much to be pitied, because their own tender hearts brought them to this exigent: having either set their affections, where they thought verily they might be requited and were not, or else where they received like seeming tender of affection, but afterwards rejected, what they wished to effect they could not. So as, in time, if continuance of absence reduce them not to a better temper, they fall into a poor Maudlin's distemper, by giving reins to passion, till it estrange them from the sovereignty of reason. Whereas others you shall see, though not such kind souls, nor half so passionate, yet more discreet in their choice, and in the passages of love more temperate. These will not deign to cast a loose look upon their beloved: but stand so punctually upon their terms, as if they stood indifferent for their choice, albeit constantly resolved never to admit of any change. These scorn to paint out their passions in plaints, or utter their thoughts in sighs, or shed one dispassionate tear for an incompassionate Lover. Their Experience hath taught them better Notions: they will seemingly fly to make them follow, and so take them by whom they are most taken. They can play with the flame, and never cinge their wings; look love in the face, and preserve their eyes; converse where they take delight, and colour their affection with a seeming disdain. These are they who can walk in the Clouds to their intimatest friends: make their eyes strangers to their hearts, and conclude; nothing more foolish than Love, if discovered; nothing more wise, if artfully shadowed. But I neither approve the violence of the former, nor indifference of the latter. The one interlayeth affection with too much passion, the other with too much dissimulation. These were well to be so allayed or attempered, as neither too much eagerness tax the discretion, nor too much remissness argue coolness of affection. For the former, I must tell them, they give great advantage to an insulting Lover, to entertain Love with such vehement ardour: it fares with these, as with hot duelists, who fight themselves out of breath, and so subject their relenting force to the command of a better tempered enemy. For the latter, they hold constantly that position in arguments of Love, as well as in other actions of their life; She knows not how to live, nor how to love, that knows not how to dissemble. I must tell these, Dissimulation sorts not well with affection: Lovers seldom read Loves Politics. Let them appear what they are, with that discreet temper, as they may deserve the embraces of a Noble Lover. In brief, let such as are too hot in the quest of their desires, attemperate that heat with intermissions: such violence is best rebated by absence. chose, such as are too cool, let them quicken that easiness with their more frequent conference, and assiduate presence. WHat a furious and inconsiderate thing is Woman, Passion. when Passion distempers her? how much is her Behaviour altered, as if jocasta were now to be personated? True it is, some with a bite of their lip, can suppress an intended revenge: and like dangerous Politicians, pleasingly entertain time with one they mortally hate, till opportunity usher revenge, which they can act with as much hostility, as if that very moment were the Actor of their injury. But this Passion never works more tragic or fearful effects, then when it streams from jealousy or Competition in the Subject where they love. Whereof we have variety of instances even in our own Island, to omit Italy, which is a very Theatre of Tragic Conclusions in this kind. It is not long since we had one matchless Precedent of this stamp. It sometimes pleased a young Gentlewoman, whose fortunes had swelled her high, to settle her affection on a Gentleman of deserving parts, which he entertained with a generous requital: nothing was omitted that might any way increase this respect, or second the height of their joys. Continual resort and frequent made them inseparably one: No day so pleasing, as when they were together; No hour so tedious as when they were asunder. But how short is that moment of vading happiness, which hath in it a relish of lightness, and is not grounded on essential goodness! Long had they not thus lived, and sociably loved, but the Gentlewoman conceived some private suspicion, that herself was not sole sovereigness of his heart, but that another was become sharer in his love. Neither was this Competitrice, whom she suspected, any other than her own attendant, whose Caskets she secretly opened, where she found a Ring of especial note, which she had formerly bestowed on him. This confirmed her Conceit, changed her real love into mortal hate; which she seconded with this tragic act: Inviting him one day to a Summer Arbour, where in former times they were usually wont to repose, amidst of an amorous discourse, she casually fixed her eye upon three Lennets, one whereof picking some Privet leaves purposely to build her nest, flew away, while the two which remained, lovingly billed one with another: which she intentively observing, used these words; How tenderly and intimately do these poor fool's mate it? Were it not pity they should ever be divided? Which words she had no sooner uttered, than the Shee-Lennet flew away, and left the Male alone, till another returned: with whom the Hee-Lennet billed, and amorously wooed as he had done before: Which she more seriously eyeing, O, quoth she, How light these males are in their affection; This may seem to you an easy error, but were I judge of Birds, it should receive due censure. Why Lady, (replied he) these poor Birds do but according to their kind. Yea, but what do ye kind men then, who engage your loves, interest yourselves, empawne your souls to be constant where you profess love, and perform nothing less than what you profess most. Nor would her long intended revenge admit more liberty to her tongue; for with a passionate enterbreath she clozed this speech with a fatal stab: leaving so much time to her unfortunate and disastrous Lover, as to discover to one of that sorrowful family the ground of her hate, the occasion of his fall, which hastened on the doleful Scene of her Tragedy. Now to allay or abate these passionate furies, there is no better means then to enter parley with reason; to chastise all such innovating motions as disquiet the inward repose of the mind; to use the help of such wholesome instructions, as may attemper the heat of those indisposed and inordinate passions. Anger, being an inflammation of blood about the heart, is such a fury, as to give way to it, is to disclaim reason: much wisdom is then required, mature advice to be used, all assistants of Art and Nature to be employed before this Adder can be charmed. For we shall hardly see any one more forget themselves, then when they are surprised with this Passion. Some you shall observe so amazed or entranced, as they become wholly silenced: They cannot utter an articulate word to gain a kingdom. Gladly would they express their distaste, and menace revenge, if their tongues would give them leave, but wrath hath tied them to good behaviour. Others are so voluble of tongue, as nothing can pass them untouched, to asperse disgrace on such by whom they hold themselves wronged. If any infamy (which to that time lay buried) offer itself to their memory, how they joy in the occasion of venting their malice on their persons, be their Calumny seconded with words of foulest aspersion: Which sort of people the ever living Pindarus terms persons of unbounded and unbridled tongues. To remedy which enormities, take along with you these instructions: they will benefit you much in the height and heat of your anger, and allay your passion when it rageth and riseth into hugest distemper. Forthwith, so soon as you shall perceive yourselves moved, restrain your passion; but if you cannot appeal nor compose your inward Commotion, at least restrain your tongue, and enjoin it silence, that if it speak no good, it may speak no evil, lest being loose and set at liberty, it utter what wrath, and not reason dictates: More sovereign and peaceful it will be for you to retire from society, make recourse to your Oratory, by recommending to your best Physician the cure of this infirmity. Use likewise this Cordial salve to your corroding sore; the receipt is Divine, if seasonably applied, and will minister you comfort when you are most distempered. So soon as your disquieted minds begin to expostulate with the quality of your wrongs, which your Enemy is apt to aggravate and exasperate, purposely to hasten your precipitate revenge; propose and set before you all the disgraces which possibly you can suffer, and confer them with those that were aspersed on your Saviour: this will prepare you to suffer, teach you to conquer: for Arrows foreseen menace less danger. Likewise, when you consider the injuries which are done you by others, you may reflect upon the wrongs which are done by you unto others: for the consideration of your own infirmity, will exact of you towards others an impunity. Weigh with yourselves how much others suffer of you, how much God himself suffers of you, who, if he should have inflicted revenge for every particular offence, you should have perished long since. In a word, you yourselves are frequently grievous, and displeasing to yourselves: Seeing than you are so distasteful unto yourselves, as you must of necessity suffer many injuries and affronts from yourselves, repine not at the sufferings which are inflicted by others on yourselves. You are likewise to consider these discommodities which arise from this Passion; which will arm you with patience, if of yourselves you have any compassion. What avails it to be revenged, after our injury be received? Is your wound by another's wound to be cured? Or disgrace tendered, by rendering disgrace restored? Besides all this, see what he obtaineth, who anger obeyeth: 1. He is deprived of the Crown of glory, and reward of eternity. 2. He becomes a Minister and Instrument of the Devil: 3. He destroyeth his own soul, that he might hurt another's body: For a dispassionate or angry person is like unto him, who, that he may kill his Ass, destroyeth himself; or rather like him, who for huge debts which he is not able to discharge, is thrown into prison, and disdainfully refuseth any ones offer to pay his debt for him. For by him, who doth you wrong, is the debt which you owe to God, forgiven, if with patience you suffer the injury which is done. Whereas the angry person, who will be his own revenger, telleth God how and in what sort he is to deal with him: that as he suffered not small disgraces from another, so neither should small things be suffered in him by God: As it is written, With what measure you meet, the same shall be measured to you again. Six other detriments or discommodities there be which arise from the exorbitancy of this passion. For by Anger is lost, first, Wisdom, while reason becomes blinded. Secondly, Righteousness; for the wrath of man worketh not the righteousness of God. Thirdly, Society; for the Acquaintance of one angry man, is pleasing unto none. Be not, saith the Wiseman, a companion with the angry man. Fourthly, Concord, while peace is disturbed. Fifthly, the Light of Truth; because anger casteth the darkness of confusion upon the mind or understanding, from whom God hideth the cheerful beam of his Divine knowledge. Sixthly, the Splendour of the holy spirit: upon whom, saith the Prophet, shall my spirit rest, but upon the humble and quiet? that is, upon the meek, mild, and compassionate. Thus you see what benefits may be procured by attempering, what discommodities incurred by fostering this Passion. Whereon I have the rather insisted, because I am not ignorant, how the strongest and constantest tempers have been, and may be distempered and disparaged by it; much more you, whose mainest strength consists in the expression of that Passion. At all times therefore use a moderate restraint; in the prime of your years, when youth sends forth her first promising blossoms, behave yourselves mildly without bitterness, humbly without haughtiness, modestly without lightness, soberly without childishness. The Cask will retain her first taste; the Wool her first dye; the purest Tablet her prime impression; the loyall'st Spirit her first affection. If you show too much waywardness in your youth, small good is to be expected in your age. As you tender your preferment, seem mild while you are maids, lest you prove scarecrows to a young man's bed. Conform yourselves likewise to a nuptial State, and preserve your honour without stain. Contest not with your head for preeminence: you came from him, not he from you, honour him then as he cherisheth the love he conceives in you. A domestic fury makes ill harmony in any family. The discord which was hatched and increased towards M. Anthony by Fulvia, was ever allayed and attempered by the moderation of Octavia. Be you all Octavia's; the rougher your cross, the richer your Crown. The more that injuries press you, the more shall your patience praise you. The Conflict is but short and momentany, the Triumph glorious and impaled with eternity. And thus much touching those three particulars, whereon your Behaviour principally reflects; we are now to descend to the next branch, which shall show how a Gentlewoman of rank and quality, (for to such only is my discourse directed) is to behave herself in Company. How to behave herself in Company. SOciety is the solace of the living; for to live without it, were a kind of dying. Companions and friendly Associates are the Thiefs of time. No hour can be so tedious, which two loving Consorts cannot pass over with delight, and spend without distaste. Be the night never so dark, the place never so mean, the cheerful beams of conceiving consorts will enlighten the one, and their affections mutually planted, enliven the other. What a Desert than were the world without friends? and how useless those friends without conceiving minds? and how weak those minds, unless united in equal bonds? So then, love is the Cement of our life: a load without love. Now, Gentlewomen, you are to put on your veils, and go into Company. Which (I am persuaded) you cannot enter without a maiden-blush, a modest tincture. Herein you are to be most cautelous, seeing no place can be more mortally dangerous. Beware therefore with whom you consort, as you tender your repute: for report will brute what you are, by the Company which you bear. Augustus' being at a combat, discerned the inclinations of his two daughters, julia and Livia, by the Company which frequented them: for grave Senators talked with Livia, but riotous persons with julia. Would you preserve those precious odours of your good names? Consort with such whose names were never branded, converse with such whose tongues for immodesty were never taxed. As by good words evil manners are corrected, so by evil words are good ones corrupted. Make no reside there, where the least occasion of lightness is ministered; avert your Ear when you hear it, but your heart especially, lest you harbour it. To enter into much discourse or familiarity with strangers, argues lightness or indiscretion: what is spoken of Maids, may be properly applied by an useful consequence to all women: They should be seen, and not heard: A Traveller sets himself best out by discourse, whereas their best setting out is silence. You shall have many trifling questions asked, as much to purpose as if they said nothing: but a frivolous question deserves to be resolved by silence. For your Carriage, it should neither be too precise, nor too loose. These sempring made faces partake more of Chambermaid than Gentlewoman. Modesty and mildness hold sweetest correspondence. You may possibly be wooed to interchange favours: Rings or Ribonds are but trifles; yet, trust me, they are no trifles that are aimed at in those exchanges. Let nothing pass from you, that may any way impeach you, or give others advantage over you. Your innocent credulity (I am resolved) is as free from conceit of ill, as theirs, perhaps, from intendment of good: but these intercourses of Courtesies are not to be admitted, lest by this familiarity, an Entry to affection be opened, which before was closed. It is dangerous to enter parley with a beleagring enemy: it implies want or weakness in the besieged. Chastity is an enclosed Garden, it should not be so much as assaulted, lest the report of her spotless beauty become soiled. Such Forts hold out best, which hold themselves least secure, when they are securest. It was the saying of a worthy General, Presuming on a man's own strength is the greatest weakness; and the ready way to betray himself to dangers is to contemn them. Nasica, when the Roman Commonwealth was supposed to be in most secure estate, because freed of their enemies, and strongly fenced by their friends, affirmed, that though the Achaians and Carthaginians were both brought under the yoke of bondage, yet they were most in danger, because none were left, whom they might either fear for danger, or who should keep them in awe. How subject poor Women be to lapses, and recidivations, being left their own Guardians, daily experience can sufficiently discover. Of which number, those always proved weakest, who were confidentest of their own strength. Presumption is a daring sin, and ever brings out some untimely birth, which viperlike deprives her unhappy parent of life. I have known divers so resolute in their undertake, so presuming of their womanish strength, so constantly devoted to a single life, as in public consorts they held it their choicest merriment to give love the affront, to discourse of affection with an imperious contempt, gear their amorous suitors out of Countenance, and make a very Whirligig of love. But mark the conclusion of these insulting spirits: they sport so long with love, till they fall to love in earnest. A moment makes them of Sovereign's Captives, by slaving them to that deservedly, which at first they entertained so disdainfully. The way then to prevent this malady, is to wean you from consorting with folly. What an excellent impregnable fortress were Woman, did not her Windows betray her to her enemy? But principally, when she leaves her Chamber to walk on the public Theatre; when she throws off her veil, and gives attention to a merry tale; when she consorts with youthful blood, and either enters parley, or admits of an interview with love. It is most true what the sententious moral sometimes observed: We may be in security, so long as we are sequestered from society. Then, and never till then, begins the infection to be dispersed, when the sound and sick begin to be promiscuously mixed. Tempt not Chastity; hazard not your Christian liberty. You shall encounter with many forward youths, who will most punctually tender their useless service to your shadows at the very first sight: do not admit them, lest you prostitute yourselves to their prostrate service. Apelles' found fault with Protogenes, in that he could not hold his hands from his Table. Whereas our Damsels may more justly find fault with their youthful Amorists, for that they cannot hold their hands from under the Table. It is impossible to come off fair with these light-fingred fools. Your only way is rampire your chaste intentions with Divine and Moral instructions, to stop the source, divert the occasion, subject affection to reason, so may you become Empresses of that which hath sometimes tyrannised over Emperors: By this means shall every place where you publicly resort minister to you some object of inward comfort: By this means shall Company furnish you with precepts of chastity, enable you in the serious practice of piety, and sweetly conduct you to the port of glory. How to behave herself in privacy. PRivacy is the seat of Contemplation, though sometimes made the recluse of Tentation. From which there is granted no more exemption in the Cell, than in the Court. Here is the Lawn where Melancholy draws her line. Here the mind becomes our Mate; Silence, our sweetest Conference: where the retired becomes either the best or worst friend to himself. There is none, who ever conversed with himself, or discanted solely with his own humour, who can be ignorant of those numerous slights or subtleties, which by that great Tempter (whose long exercise hath made him no less subtle in contriving, than cruel in practising our ruin) are privately shadowed and shrouded, purposely to circumvent poor man, and leave him deluded. Diogenes, when he found a young man talking alone, demanded of him What he was doing? who answered, He was conversing with himself: Take heed (quoth he) thou conversest not with thine enemy. Of the like stamp was that lovesick Girl, who became so immazed in love's error, as she minded her work least when she eyed her Sampler. Never less alone than when most alone: for then, and never so freely as then, enjoyed fancy full scope of action, as when her retired privacy gave her thoughts leave to converse with affection. Then and only then became jealous Love a Projector, contriving ways for enjoying her Lover. No Italian device, closed it never so inordinately with sense, could be unattempted, to catch him by whom she was catched; to seize on him by whom she was surprised. So eagerly cunning became fancy in feats of policy, as she would rather lose herself, then by means of her deluded privacy, lose opportunity. To you, Gentlewomen, I direct my discourse, whose privacy may enable you, if well employed, for better things than the toys, tires, & trifles of this age. How many (the more our misery) bestow their private hours (which might be dedicated to Contemplation, or works of piety & devotion) upon light-feathered inventions, amorous expostulations, or minting of some unbeseeming fashions? How few enter into account with their own hearts; or so consecreate their hours to God's honour, as they make Privacy their soul's harbour? The day they spend in visitations; how rare and tedious is one hour reserved for meditation? What a serious intercourse or sociable dialogue is between an amorous Mistress and her Looking-glass! The point or pendent of her feather wags out of a due posture; her Cheek wants her true tincture; her captious Glass presents to her quick eye one error or other, which drives her into a monstruous distemper. Pride leaves no time for prayer. This is her CLOSET for LADIES, where she fits and accommodates herself to Fashion, which is the period of her content, while purer objects are had in contempt. This is not the way to make Privacy your mind's melody. These employments should sooner afflict than affect you, because they will sooner distract than direct you. Your spirits will be revived most, when these are valued least. Let me therefore recommend to your choice, Patterns of more exquisite worth: such whose devotion may be your direction, whose direction your instruction. Devout mention is made of zealous Anna, who made recourse to the Temple, offering her incessant prayers, a vial of sweet odours, that she might conceive a son: of whom, to her succeeding memory, the Scripture recordeth, that after her tears so devoutly shed, her prayers so sincerely offered, her religious vows so faithfully performed, her countenance was no more altered; Piety begot in her divine love, faith in Gods promise made her believe, and zeal to God's house caused her to persevere: thus sighing she sought, seeking she obtained, and obtaining she retained a grateful memory of what she received. No less fervour showed Ester in preferring the suit of her distressed Israelites▪ what persuasive Oratory, what powerful Rhetoric, what inducing reasons she used, to have their unjust censure reversed, their insupportable wrongs redressed, their aggrievances relieved, the incensed King appeased, and them to favour restored! She wooed with tears in her eyes, faith in her heart, alms in her hand: God's cause was the progress of her course; she desired nothing more than how to effect it; which was seconded with a successive conclusion, because begun, continued, and ended with devotion. The like zeal expressed judith for her besieged Bethulites; the love of God had so inflamed her, as no fear of the enemy could amate her; faith armed her with resolution, constancy strengthened her against all opposition. Her armour was prayer, Bethulia's cure her care, holy desires her sole attendants; she enters her enemy's pavilion with a zealous confidence; implores the Divine assistance in her entrance; and discomfits a daring foe with cautelous silence. Her sighs and tears were as the first and second rain; they brought success to her thirsty soul, and a glorious Conquest to her native soil. No less are we to admire the wonderful devotion of that teare-swollen Magdalen, who with devout love sought her dear Spouse entombed, whose body with obsequious Odours she had embalmed before ever he was interred. She, when his Disciples were departed, left not the Sepulchre of her sweet Master; still she sat sorrowing and sighing, weeping long and much, rising from her seat of sorrow, her grave of grief: Where he was, he is not; and where he is, she knows not: with pious tears, watchful eyes, weary ways, she re-visits again and again the desert caves of his relinquished Sepulchre, hoping at last to have the happiness to behold, whom with so fervent a desire she sought. Now once and again had she entered his desolate Tomb; but little was all this to her that loved so much: The power or efficacy of every good work consists in Perseverance. But observe the comfortable effect of her effectual love! For as much as she loved more than the rest, and loving wept more than the rest, and weeping sought more than the rest, and seeking persevered, allowing herself no rest: therefore deserved she to find, behold, and speak unto him before the rest. And not only so, but to become the very first messenger of his glorious resurrection to his Disciples, according as her choice Spouse had commanded her, and by especial Commission recommended to her: Go, tell my Brethren that they go into Galilee, there they shall see me. Hence note the fruit of a devout heart; the incomparable prerogative granted to Divine love! Nazianzen in his Epitaph for his sister Gorgonia, writeth, that she was so given to prayer, that her knees seemed to cleave to the earth, and to grow to the very ground by reason of incessancy or continuance in prayer. Gregory in his Dialogues writeth, that his Aunt Trasilla being dead, was found to have her elbows as hard as horn: which hardness she got by leaning to a Desk, at which she used to pray. Such as these deserve your imitation; for their Virtues, like sweet Odours, have sent out a pleasant perfume. They prayed, and obtained what they prayed for; They lived and practised what they sought for; They died and enjoyed what they so long time sighed for. You are taught to Enter your Chambers and be still. Still, and yet stirring still: Still from the clamours and turbulent insults of the World; still from the mutinous motions and innovations of the flesh. But never still from warring, wrestling, bickring and embattailing with the Leader of those treacherous associates, tyrannous assassinats. O should you consider what troops of furious and implacable Enemies are ever lying in ambuscado for you; how many soule-tempting Sirens are warbling notes of ruin to delude you; what fears within you, what foes without you, what furies all about you; you would not suffer one grain of sand to drop through the Cruet, without a dropping eye; not one minute pass undedicated to some good employment, to prevent the fury of such desperate assailants. Make then your Chamber your private Theatre, wherein you may act some devout Scene to God's honour. Be still from the world, but stirring towards God. Meditation, let it be your companion: It is the perfume of the memory; the soul's rouzer from sin's lethargy, the sweetest solace in straits of adversity. Let it be your key to open the Morning, your lock to close the Evening. What an argument of indiscretion were it for one, amidst variety of choice and delicious viands, to discourse of vanity, and suffer himself to famish in the presence of such plenty? This is your case, if amids so many soule-solacing dainties of spiritual comforts, you divert your eye, by fixing it on these Objects of earth: and repose not yourselves in those fragrant borders of Divine Contemplation; which, by how much they are more frequent, by so much they become more sweet and redolent. Surely, there is nothing that relisheth more sweetly, tasteth more daintily, withdraweth your minds from the world more speedily, strengtheneth you against the temptations of your enemy, excites or exerciseth you in every spiritual duty, as the soul-ravishing Contemplation of the Supreme Deity. All other Objects are vanity. They may play upon your fantasy, and so delude you; but being weakly grounded on piety, they can never suffice you. Task yourselves then privately, lest privacy become your enemy. As man's extremity is God's opportunity, so the Devil's opportunity is man's security. Let not a minute be mis-spended, lest security become your attendant. Be it in the exercise of your Needle, or any other manual employment, attemper that labour with some sweet meditation tending to God's honour. Choose rather with Penelope to wove and unweave, than to give Idleness the least leave. Wanton Wooers are time-wasters: They make you idolise yourselves; and consequently hazzardize the state of your souls. Let not their Lip-salve so anoint you, as it make you forgetful of him that made you. Be you in your Chambers or private Closets; be you retired from the eyes of men; think how the eyes of God are on you. Do not say, the walls encompass me, darkness o'reshadowes me, the Curtain of night secures me; these be the words of an Adulteress▪ Therefore do nothing privately, which you would not do publicly. There is no retire from the eyes of God. I have heard of some, who for want of more amorous or attractive Objects abroad, have furnished their private Chambers with wanton pictures, Aretine tables, Sibariticke stories. These were no objects for Christian eyes: they convey too inordinate an heat from the eye to the heart. The history of Christ is a piece of portraiture that will suit your Chambers best. Eye no object which may estrange you from thought of your Maker. Make every day your Ephemerideses. Let your morning initiate your purposes for the day, the day second what your morning purposed, the Evening examine your morning's purpose, your days purchase. And so I descend to the next branch, how you are to behave yourselves in public, which should be by so much more punctual, for as much as the world is more Stoical. WOmen in sundry Countries, This branch might seem included in our former discourse of Company; but that reflected on persons, this on affairs. when they go into any public concourse or press of people, use to wear veils, to imply that secret inscreened beauty which best becomes a Woman, Bashful modesty. Which habit our own Nation now in latter years hath observed: which, howsoever the intention of the wearer appear, deserves approvement; because it expresseth in itself Modest shamefastness, a Woman's chiefest Ornament. I second his opinion, who held it; for divers main respects, a custom very irregular an undecent, that Women should frequent places of public resort, as Stageplays, Wakes, solemn Feasts, and the like. It is Occasion that depraves us; Company that corrupts us. Hence it was that some flourishing States, having eyed the inconveniences which arise from the usual resort of Women to Interludes and other public Solemnities, published an express inhibition against such free and frequent meetings. Had Hippodamia never wandered, she had proved an Hypemnestra, and had never wantoned. Had Dinah never roaved, she had proved a Diana, and had never been ravished. Yet far be it from me, to be so regularly strict, or Laconically severe, as to exclude Women from all public societies. Meetings they may have, and improve them, by a Civil and Moral use of them, to their benefit. They may chat and converse with a modest freedom, so they do not gossip it. For these Shee-Elpenors, and Feminine Epicures, who surfeit our their time in an unwomanly excess, we exclude them the pale of our Commonweal. Be they of what state soever, they are stains to their Sex for ever. Especially such, who carouse it in deep healths, rejoice at the colour of the wine, till it sparkle in their veins, inflame their bloods, and lay open a breach to the frailty of their Sex. For prevention whereof, we read that kinsmen kissed their kinswomen to know whether they drunk wine or no; and if they had, to be punished by death, or banished into some Island. Plutarch saith, that if the Matrons had any necessity to drink wine, either because they were sick or weak; the Senate was to give them licence, and not then in Rome neither, but out of the City. Macrobius saith, that there were two Senators in Rome chiding, and the one called the others wife an Adulteress, and the other his wife a Drunkard; and it was judged, that to be a drunkard was more infamy. Truth is, they might join hands as mates of one society, for I have seldom seen any one subject to Ebriety, preserve long untainted the honour of their chastity. Now for public Employments, I know all are not borne to be Deborahs', to bear virile spirits in feminine bodies. Yet, in choosing the better part, you may fit and accommodate your persons to public affairs, well sorting and suiting with your rank and quality. Claudia and Priscilla were nobly descended, yet they publicly resorted where they might be religiously instructed; and no less publicly instructed others in those principles wherein they were informed. It is said of the Vestal Virgins, that they first learned what to do; secondly, they did what they had learned; thirdly, they instructed others to do that which they had both done and learned. For this, the rich Saban Queen left her own Region to hear the Wisdom of King Solomon. Surely, howsoever some, no less properly than pregnantly, have emblematized Woman by a Snail; because she still carries her house about her, as is the property of a good Housekeeper: yet in my judgement (wherein I ingenuously submit to others censure) a modest and well Behaved Woman may by her frequent or resort to public places, confer no less benefit to such as observe her behaviour, than occasion of profit to her private family, where she is Overseer. I have seen some in these places of public repair, express such a well-seeming State without Apish formality, as every action deserved imitation of such as were in their Company. Their Conceits were sweetly tempered without lightness; their jests savoury, yet without saltness; their discourse free without niceness; their answers mild without tartness; their smile pleasing, mixed with bashfulness; their pace graceful without too much activeness; their whole posture delightful with a seemly carelessness. These are such mirrors of modesty, patterns of piety, as they would not for a world transgress the bounds of Civility. These are Matrons in their houses, Models in public places. Words spoken in season, are like apples of gold with pictures of silver: So opportunately are their words delivered, so seasonably uttered, with such unaffected eloquence expressed, wheresoever this sweet and well-tempered discretion is seated. Whereas others there be, whose indiscretion makes discovery of an Ocean of words, but a drop of reason. They speak much, but express little; their conceits are ever ballased with harshness; their jests foisted in with too much dulness; their discourse trimmed up with too much neatness; their answers leavened with too much sourness; their looks promising too much lightness, or unsociable perverseness; their pace either too quick or too slow in dispatch of business; their whole posturean indisposed frame of irregular absurdities. But to draw in our fails, touching the prosecution of this branch; our reproof shall reflect upon two sorts especially, whose devious course drawn by an indirect line, may seem to deserve reprehension worthily. The first are such who give too easy reins to liberty, making Pleasure their Vocation; as if they were created for no other end, then to dedicate the first fruits of the day to their Glass; the residue to the Stage or Exchange. These, no sooner have they laid their Artificial Complexion on their adulterate faces, than they grow sick for their Coach. They must visit such a Lady, or what, perchance, is worse, such a Lord. A minute now in their Chambers seems a month. Shall we display one of these in her colours? The Play-bils must be brought her by her Pensioner: her eye views and reviewes, and out of her feminine judgement culls out one from among them which she will see, purposely to be seen. Much she observes not in it, only she desires to be observed at it. Her Behaviour in a Box, would make any one think she were a Bee in a box; she makes such a buzzing and rustling. This is her daily task, till death enter the Stage and play his part; whom she entertains with such unpreparedness, as her extreme act presents objects of infinite unhappiness: As it sometimes fared with a Gentlewoman of our own Nation, who so daily bestowed the expense of her best hours upon the Stage, as being surprised by sickness, even unto death, she became so deaf to such as admonished her of her end, as when her Physician was to minister a Receipt unto her, which he had prepared to allay the extremity of that agonizing fit wherewith she was then assailed, putting aside the Receipt with her hand, as if she rejected it, in the very height and heat of her distemper, with an active resolution used these words unto her Doctor: Thanks good Horatio, take it for thy pains. So inapprehensive was she of death at her end, because she never meditated of death before her end. Now for the second sort, they are mere Antipodes to the former; These are only for profit, as the other were for pleasure. These become so wedded to the world, as they afflict their spirits, macerate their bodies, estrange themselves from offices of Neighbourhood, to improve their revenues, by discovering their too much providence to the world. And these are commonly such, as are matched to Scholars, whose contemplation hath taken them from the world, and recommended the management of their estate to their wife. Now to both these sorts let me address my instruction: As I could not possibly approve of the former, because they made pleasure their business: so I cannot commend these, because they make not their business a pleasure. Let these take heed, that they incur not that miserable insensibility, which I have heard sometimes befell to a Worldling of their sex: Who approaching near her haven, & entering now her last conflict with Nature, was, by such as stood about her, earnestly moved to recommend herself to God, tender the welfare of her soul, and to make her salvation sure; thus briefly, but fearfully answered, and forthwith departed: I have made it as sure as Law will make it. De 〈◊〉 worry. Or as we read in a book enituled The Gift of fear, how a Religious Divine coming to a certain Vsuresse, to advise her of the state of her soul, and instruct her in the way to salvation, at such time as she lay languishing in her bed of affliction; told her, how there were three things by her to be necessarily performed, if ever she hoped to be saved: First, she was to be contrite in heart; secondly, she was to confess her sins; thirdly, she was to make restitution according to her means. Whereto she thus replied; Two of those first I will do willingly: but to do the last, I shall hold it a difficulty; for should I make restitution, what would remain to raise my children their portion? To which the Divine answered; Without these three you cannot be saved. Yea but, quoth she, Do our Learned men and Scriptures say so! Yes surely, said the Divine. And I will try (quoth she) whether they say true or no, for I will restore nothing. And so resolving, fearfully died, fearing poverty temporal, more than eternal, which she was of necessity to suffer, (without God's infinite interceding mercy) for preferring the care of her posterity, before the honour of her Maker. To be short, the former sort deserves reproof, for making pleasure their ●ocation; the latter for barring business all recreation. A discreet temper will moderate both these; the first, by holding pleasure a pastime, and no business; the last, by applying a cure to an incessant care, and immixing some pleasure with business, to attemper it, lest it incline to heaviness. Both which, equally concurring, are ever conferring to the labouring mind, inward quietness. COmplexion enclosed in a box, gives no tincture to the Cheek, nor moral precepts unapplyed, beauty to the mind. Thus far have we proceeded in directions of Behaviour; That Behaviour most approved which is clearest from affectation freed. insisting on such remarkable observances, as might better enable you in each particular. We are now to say before you, upon serious discussion of the premises, how that Behaviour is to be most approved, which is clearest from affectation freed. Apes are catcht in Deserts by imitation. Would not you be caught by indiscretion? Imitate nothing servilely, it detracts from your gentility. I have noted some of our Chambermaids take upon them such an unbeseeming state, when they came to visit their poor friends in the Country, as they punctually retained both gate and garb of their mincing Mistresses in the City. To their Parish-Church they repair to be seen and shown; where if any of these civilised jugs chance to be saluted by the way, having quite forgot both broom and mop, with a scornful eye they will not stick to return this majestic answer: We thank you, my good people. It is discretion that appropriates to every peculiar degree their proper distinction. Many things will beseem the Mistress, which agree not with the quality of the Maid. But in no degree will that Behaviour seem comely, which affectation hath introduced, be it in Court, City, or Country. You shall see many, purposely to cover some natural blemish or deformity, practise that which makes them appear far more unseemly. Here one indents with her lips to semper, that she may hide the want or greatness of her teeth. Another contracts with her Tailor, lest Nemesis should be seen sitting on her shoulder. A third wears her Gown with a careless looseness, to cover or colour her body's crookedness. This, with Fabulla, buys an artful Periwig to supply her art-fallen hair: That enazures her seered veins, embolsters her decayed breasts, to purchase a sweetheart. What an affected state this generally-infected state assumes, purposely to gain a popular esteem? Survey our streets, gaze on our windows; you shall see gazers to entertain your eyes with variety of fantastic Behaviours. But these are none of Virtue's followers. Would you be praiseworthy? Virtue to herself is her chiefest praise, her choicest prize. There is nothing comparably precious to a continent soul. Affectation she will not admit, for her habit; both her Habit and Behaviour are proper not enforced; native and not apishly introduced. She cannot woo a wanton Lover with a dissembled blush, nor promise more with an outward presence, than she resolves to admit with a spotless Conscience. Outward semblances, if light, she holds apparent blemishes to her life. Her life, as it is a line to herself, so she would have it a light to others. Lacides Prince of Argos, was accounted lascivious only for his sleek looks, and mincing gate. So Pompey, because he used to scratch his head with one finger, albeit very continent and modest. Believe it, though your Person be the Book, your Behaviour is the Index. Which will require a large Comment, if it express itself in aught probably incontinent. Now, for as much as nothing better seems you, more commendably adorns you, or more absolutely accommodates you, than what is native and unaffected, so it be by Education seasoned: be your own Women; dis-value all apish formality; resort not to the Temple to take a pattern of some new fashion: modest discretion blusheth at such servile imitation. What you see in another, may become them, which would not become another. The Ass in the fable seeing the dog fawn and leap upon his Master, though it would beseem him, but sorting not with his nature, it got him a beating for his labour. Now to distinguish betwixt an enforced and unaffected Behaviour, it is most easy; the very first blush will discover the one by the other. You shall observe these who are tied to affectation in this kind, set their look, gate, and whatsoever else may confer a fantastic grace on their usurped Behaviour, so punctually, as if they had entered a solemn Contract with eye, face, hand, foot and all, to hold constantly their dimension, to beget in the beholder a more settled admiration. Whereas chose, these whose free, genuine, and generous demeanours express themselves less strictly, but far more comely, scorn to tie their affections to these servile restraints. They hold it far more suitable with an Italian Pantomime, who professeth hope of profit upon the Stage, to confine them to these regularities, then discreet Women, whose honour is their honest Behaviour; and whose praise it is, to be exemplary to others in goodness, and not others Apes in imitating their fantastic fashions. To conclude then this Observation; as you are generous by birth, dote not on that which is most ridiculous on this Stage of earth. Approve yourselves chaste Virgins, continent Wives, discreet Matrons, honourable Widows, in your virtuous and modest demeanour. Preserve that eternally, which gives accomplishment to Gentility. Your Educations (as may be presupposed) have so beautified you, as the garb you retain is most proper unto you. The Hyaena is a dangerous beast: yet her subtlety and cruelty take life from affectation and imitation. Desire you to be so Behaved, as others may admire you? In your choice of Behaviour, inure yourselves to what is neatest, not what is newest. Invention in subjects of this kind, doth more harm than good. So behave yourselves, that too much curiosity may not tax you of pride, nor too much majesty of State: Modesty mixed with humility will temper both these, and make that Behaviour which appears in you, so well become you, as if it were borne with you, and not affectively derived from others to you. THE ENGLISH GENTLEWOMAN. Argument. Compliment defined; how it may be corrupted; how refined; wherein it may be admitted as mainly consequent; wherein omitted as merely impertinent; what Compliment gives best accomplishment. COMPLIMENT. COMPLIMENT hath been anciently defined, Observat. 3 Compliment defined. and so successively retained; a no less real than formal accomplishment. Such as were more nobly and freely educated, and had improved their breeding by foreign Observations (so sweetly tempered was the equal union and communion of their affections) instructed others in what they had seen and observed, either at home or abroad, worthy imitation or approvement. Nothing was admitted in those times publicly, but what was by the graver Censors first discussed privately. jealous were the Pagans of foreign fashions: for, with such constancy they retained their own, as they seldom or never itched after others. The Tyrian and Sidonian were so suspected of pride, through their effeminacy in attire, and other light fashions which they used, as they were held dangerous to commerce with. So purely did those poor beamelings of Nature reflect on her people; that formality was held palpable hypocrisy, fair semblances and cool performances mere golden shadows to delude others, but gull themselves most. Prince's Courts were Princely Seminaries. Delicacy was there no Tutoress, nor effeminacy Governess. If Alcibiades, albeit in Athens the beautifullest, for native endowments the pregnant'st, and for descent one of the noblest, introduce aught irregularly; or express any Compliment which relisheth not of Civility; the author must suffer the censure of the City. It was very usual in former times, when any Embassy was addressed from one state unto another, for the Senate or Council, from whence any such Legate was sent, to school them in sundry particulars before they took their journey or received their Commission: but in no caution were they more strict, then in express command that they should use no other garb, Compliment, nor salute upon their approach in foreign Courts, than what they had seen used and observed at home. Thus their own native fashion, became a note of distinction to every Nation. Neither am I ignorant, how, even in one and the selfsame Province, there may be generally introduced a different or distinct garb: which proceedeth either from the Commerce and Confluence of people there resorting, and consequently improving their Behaviour and Elocution by their mutual conference; or from the Prince's Court, where all State and Majesty hath residence; or from the temperature of the Air, to which some have attributed an especial preeminence. Whereas, in desert and remote places, on which the beams of Civil society seldom reflect, we shall find nothing but barbarism and unsociable wildness. Education is the improver of the one, and producer of the other. We shall ever see Compliment shine most in places eminent. There are Objects fit for such Subjects: Such as expect it, and bestow their whole day's practice in exercise of it: These aspire to the nature or definition of no art more eagerly, than Compliment, which they hold the absolute ornament of Gentility. Howsoever, mainly repugnant be their Tenets touching the subsistence of Compliment. Some have held, it consisted in congees, cringes, and salutes; of which error, I would this age wherein we live, did not too much labour: others, merely in a painted and superficial discourse; wherein they so miserably tied themselves to words, as they tired the impatient hearers with foolish repetitions, frivolous extravagancies; being, in a word, so affianced to the shadow, as they forgot the substance. The last, which were only real and complete Courtiers, held a seemly graceful presence, beautified with a native comeliness, the deservingst Compliment that could attend us. Certainly, if we should exactly weigh the derivation of the word, we could not imagine so meanly of it, as to consist merely of words, or antic works. It was first intended to distinguish betwixt persons of civil and savage carriage: yea, to appropriate a title of preeminence to such, who exceeded others in grounds or precepts of Morality; whose lives appeared as Lamps to enlighten others, and consequently perpetuate the memory of themselves. Many noble and eminent Ladies are recorded, both in divine and humane writ, to have excelled in this Compliment of honour. These knew the definition of it, and moulded their conversation to it: They knew what belonged to a posture of state; they could court it without apish curiosity; embrace love with a reserved modesty; express themselves complete without singularity. Foreign fashions they distasted; painted Rhetoric they dis-relished; real Compliment was all they affected. Love they could without dissembling; discourse without affecting; show curtsy without congying; still retaining what was best beseeming. In the Court they resided to better it; not a strayed look could promise a loose Lover least hope of a purchase; nor Coyness dishearten a faithful servant from his affectionate purpose They knew not what it was to protest in j●st; to walk in the clouds; to domineer over their captives, or entertain many Suitors. They freed Compliment of dissimulation, made virtue their Loadstone to affection; their actions were dedicated to good ends: by which means they made God and good men their friends. Nor do I fear it, but that our flourishing Albion hath many such noble and complete Ladies; who so highly esteem the true and native definition of Compliment, as they prefer the substance before the shadow. Honour is their dearest tender, goodness their line, by which they daily draw nearer to perfection, their proper Centre. Thus far for the Definition, wherein we have the rather enlarged our discourse, that the Subject whereof we treat, may be discovered in her own nature; such as owe attendance to her, become better proficients in their instructions derived from her. Neither can we observe what may really deserve your imitation, but by discerning the excellence of that whereof we treat by a true and proper definition. THere is nothing on earth so pure, How Compliment may be corrupted. but abuse may corrupt it; nothing so good, but custom may deprave it. This may appear in this one Subject, which we have now in discourse. Former times were not so jaded to fashions, as to esteem nothing formal, but what was fantastical. It was not then held the life of Compliment, to have the art to set a face, court a glass, make a cringe or a duck. Legs were held for useful supporters, but no Complemental postures. New-minted words made not their tongues more complete: nor an Outlandish Salute their Persons more admired. Virgin-modesty made resolution her Steletto to guard her honour: Plumes and Feathers were held light dress for stayed minds; suspicious trim for stale Maids. Actors might wear them in their presentments upon the Stage, but modest Matrons were never allowed to wear them in the State. Women were admitted to have Painters, but not to be their own painters: Campaspe was pictured out in her colours by Apelles: Crotons five daughters lively depictured by Zeuxes, yet these, without any help of art, still retained their own native features. It was the Compliment of that age to deliver their mind freely without mincing, converse friendly without glozing; walk the street demurely without gazing. Wherein (with submission ever to graver judgements) this latter age, in mine opinion, deserves just reproof. Education is a second Nature, and this hath given that freedom to women, as they may admit any opportunity to entertain time with their amorous servants; redart wanton tales with light blushes; pass a whole afternoon in a Bay-window, in Congees, Courtesies, and other useless Compliments. Flashes of wit are made beguilers of time; and these mixed now and then with such lascivious passages, as modesty might justly hold itself abused to be so encountered: Alas! Who knows not what secret trains are laid for credulous women, under these pretenced parleys? Do you observe how their tongues are tipped with your praises; how they honour your shadows; admire the earth you tread on; adore the Air you breath on; and with their airy applauses so gild you, as in the end they palpably gull you; leaving you no less miserably deluded, than themselves seized of what their sensual quest pursued? Beware of that Compliment which gives way to rob you of your choicest Ornament. Egnatius, in Catullus, is brought out, showing the whiteness of his teeth: a poor subject to raise an Encomiasticke poem. These are Themes for an amorous Muse: White teeth, rolling eyes, a beautiful complexion (all exterior and inferior goods) being that which Euryala his Nurse praised, when she washed the feet of Ulysses, namely, gentle speech, and tender flesh. No less persuasive by the elegancy of the one, than invasive by delicacy of the other. But all these outward embellishments give but small accomplishment to the inward beauty:" Where good's a better attribute than fair. Now be not these dainty subjects for a Complete youth to discant on? What Crotchets and extemporal Conceits are hatched out of an addle brain? The very shadow of Julia's hair must not want the compleatest honour, that either art can devise, or cost erect. Not a Cooplet but must be poetically Complete; which, out of an amorous frenzy, must, with mounting Hyperboles, be thus continued: Skin more pure than Ida's snow, Whiter far than Moorish milk, Sweeter than Ambrosia too, Softer than the Paphian silk, Indian plumes or thistle-downe, Or May-blossoms newly blown, Is my Mistress Rosie-pale, Adding beauty to her veil. An excellent piece of Complemental stuff to catch a self-conceited one. Many you have of your sex, who are too attentive auditors in the report of their own praises. Nothing can be attributed to them, which they hold not properly due unto them. Which conceit, many times, so transports them, as, Narcissus-like, they are taken with their own shadows; doting on nothing more than these Encomiasticke bladders of their desertless praises. Let me advise you, whose discretion should be far from giving light ear to such airy Tritons, to disrelish the oily Compliment of these amorous Sycophants. It is hateful Oratory, that brings you to Self idolatry. Much more useful and beneficial it will be for you to retain that modesty which appeared in Alphonsus' Prince of Aragon's answer to a plausive Orator; who having repeated a long panegyrical Oration in his praise, replied; If that thou hast said, consent with truth, I thank God for it; if not, I pray God grant me grace that I may do it. You shall encounter with some of these Complete Amorists, who will make a set speech to your Glove, and sweeten every period with the perfume of it. Others will hold it an extraordinary grace to become Porters of your Misset, or holder's of your Fan, while you pin on your Mask. Service, Observance, Devotion, be the General heads of their Compliment. Other Doctrine they have none, either to instruct morally, or inform politically. Believe it, Gentlewomen, they are ill-spent hours, that are bestowed in conference with these Braine-wormes. Their frivolous discourse will exact from you some answer: which if you shape justly to their dialect, there will be more vain wind spent, than you can redeem with many tears. Let no conceit transport you above yourselves; hold it for no Compliment worthy your breeding, to trifle time in love-toys. They detract both from discretion and modesty, and ofttimes endanger the ruin of the latter fearfully. This kind of Compliment with great ones, were but mere Canting among Beggars. He or she are the Completest, who in arguments of discourse and action are discreetest. Full vessels give the least sound. Such as hold Compliment the sole subject of a glib tongue, active cringe, or artful smile; are those only Mimics, or Buffouns of our age, whose Behaviours deserve far more derision than applause. Thus you have heard how Compliment may be corrupted; we now purpose, with as much propriety and brevity as we may, to show you how it may be refined: To the end, that what is in its own nature so commendable, may be entertained with freedom of choice, and retained without purpose to change. THe Unicorn's horn being dipped in water, How Compliment may be refined. clears and purifies it. It is the honour of the Physician to restore nature, after it be decayed. It is the sole work of that supreme Architect to bring light out of darkness, that what was dark might be enlightened; life out of death, that what was dead might be enlivened; way out of error, that the erring might be directed; knowledge out of ignorance, that the ignorant might be instructed; a salve out of sin, that sins sore might be cured; comfort out of affliction, that the afflicted might be comforted; hope out of despair, that the desperate might be succoured; a raising from falling, that their fall might be recovered; strength out of weakness, that his great work might be glorified. Gold thrice tried, becomes the purer and more refined: And Compliment the most, when it is best accommodated. True it is, that Society is either a Plague or a Perfume. It infects, where Consorts are illaffected; but works excellent effects, where virtuous Consorts are assembled. It is the sweetest note that one can sing, When Grace in Virtue's key, tunes Nature's string. Where two meek men meet together, their conference (saith mellifluous Bernard) is sweet and delectable: where one man is meek, it is profitable: where neither, it proves pernicious and uncomfortable. It is Society that gives us, or takes from us our Security. Let me apply this unto you, Gentlewomen, whose virtuous dispositions, (so sweetly hath nature graced you) promise nothing less than fervorous desires of being good. Would you have that refined in you, which others corrupt, by inverting the means? Or express that in her native Colours, which will beautify you more than any artificial or adulterate colours, whose painted Varnish is no sooner made than melted? Make choice of such for your Consorts, whose choice may admit no change. Let no Company be affected by you, which may hazard infecting of you. The World is grown a very Pest-house: timely prevention must be used, before the infection have entered. You have no such sovereign receipts to repel, as you have to prevent. The infection of vice leaves a deeper spot or speckle on the mind, than any disease doth on the body. The Blackmoore may sooner change his skin, the Leopard his spots, than a soul deep died in the grain of infection, can put off her habituate corruption. Be it then your principal care to make choice of such bashful Maids, modest Matrons, or reverend Widows, as hold it their best Compliment to retain the opinion of being Continent. Infamy hath wings as swift as fame. Shun the occasion, lest you undergo the brand. Posthuma, because given to laughter, and something forward to talk with men, was suspected of her honesty; where being openly accused, she was acquitted by Spurius Minutius, with this caveat, to use words suitable to her life. Civility, trust me, is the best and most refined Compliment that may be. Courting in public places, and upon first sight, it affects not; for it partakes more of impudent than Complete. Be it of the City that argument of discourse be ministered, it can talk freely of it without mincing; or of the Court, it can address itself to that garb in apt words without minting; or of the Country, in an homespun phrase it can express whatsoever in the Country deserves most praise. And all this in such a proper and familiar manner, as such who are tied to Compliment, may aspire to it, but never attain it. He that hath once tasted of the fountain Clitorius, will never afterward drink any wine. Surely, howsoever this civil and familiar form of dialect may seem but as pure running water in comparison of Compliment, which, like Nectar, streams out in Conduits of delight to the humorous hearer: yet our discreet Complementer prefers the pure fountain before the troubled river. It is true, that many fashions, which even these later times have introduced, deserve free admittance; yea, there is some thing yet in our Oar, that may be refined. Yet in the acceptance of these, you are not to entertain whatsoever these finer times have brought forth. Where variety is affected, and the age to inconstancy subjected, so as nothing but what is rare and new becomes esteemed: Either must our inventions be present and pregnant, our surveys of foreign places serious and sollicitant, or we shall fall into decay of fashion, or make old ones new, and so by antiquity gull our Nation. Truth is, though our tongues, hands, bodies, and legs be the same, our Elocution, action, gesture, and posture are not the same. Should the soul of Troilus, according to that erroneous transmigration of Pythagoras, pass into the body of one of our English Courtiers; or Hortensius, (who was an Orator active enough) into one of our English Lawyers; or Antigone (who was Complemental enough) into one of our English Courtesans; they would find strange Cottages to dwell in. What is now held Complete; a few years will bury in disgrace. Nothing then so refined, if on earth seated, which time will not raze, or more curious conceits disesteem, or that universal reduction to nothing dissolve. That Compliment may seem pleasing; such a fashion generally affecting; such a dressing most Complete: yet are all these within short space covered with contempt. What you observe then to be most civil in others, affect it; such an habit needs not to be refined, which cannot be bettered. Fashion is a kind of frenzy; it admires that now, which it will laugh at hereafter, when brought to better temper. Civility is never out of fashion; it ever retains such a seemly garb, as it confers a grace on the wearer, and enforceth admiration in the beholder. Age cannot deface it; contempt disgrace it; nor gravity of judgement (which is ever held a serious Censor) disapprove it. Be thus minded, and this Compliment in you will be purely refined. You have singular patterns to imitate, represent them in your lives, imitate them in your loves. The Corruption of the age, let it seize on ignoble spirits; whose education, as it never equalled yours, so let them strike short of those nobler endowments of yours: labour daily to become improved, honour her that will make you honoured: let virtue be your crown, who holds vanity a crime: So may you show holiness in your life, enjoy happiness at your death, and leave examples of goodness unto others both in life and death. Court's and eminent places are held fittest Schools for Compliment: Wherein Compliment may be admitted, as mainly consequent. There the Cinnamon tree comes to best growth; there her bark gives sweetest sent. Choice and select fashions are there in only request; which ofttimes like those Ephemera, expire after one day's continuance: whatsoever is vulgar, is thence exploded; whatsoever novel, generally applauded. Here be weekly Lectures of new Compliments; which receive such acceptation, and leave behind them that impression, as what garb soever they see used in Court publicly, is put in present practice privately; lest discontinuance should blemish so deserving a quality. The Court's gloss may be compared to glass, bright, but brittle; where Courtiers (saith one) are like Counters, Plutarch. which sometime in account go for a thousand pound, and presently before the Count be cast, but for a single penny. This too eager affection after Compliment, becomes the consumption of many large hereditaments. Whereto it may be probably objected, That even discretion enjoins every one to accommodate himself to the fashion or condition of that place wherein he lives. To which Objection I easily condescend; for, should a rustic or boorish Behaviour accompany one who betakes himself to the Court, he might be sure to find a Controller in every corner to reprove him; or some complete Gallant or other, pitifully to gear and deride him. But to dote so on fashion, as to admire nothing more than a fantastic dressing, or some antic Compliment, which the corruption of an effeminate State hath brought in, derogates more from discretion, than the strict observance of any fashion adds to her repute. This place should be the Beacon of the State; whose mounting Prospect surveys these inferior coasts which pay homage and fealty unto her. The least obliquity there, is exemplary elsewhere. Piercing'st judgements, as well as pregnant'st wits should be there resident. Not a wand'ring or indisposed hair, but gives occasion of observance to such as are near. How requisite then is it for you, whose Nobler descents promise, yea, exact more of you then inferiors, to express yourselves best in these best discerning and deserving places? You are women, modesty makes you completest: you are Noblewomen, desert accompanying your descent will make you noblest. You may, and conveniency requires it, retain a Courtly garb, reserve a well seeming State, and show yourselves lively Emblems of that place, wherein you live: You may entertain discourse, to allay the irksomeness of a tedious hour; bestow yourselves in other pleasing recreations, which may no less refresh the mind, than they confer vigour and vivacity to the body. You may be eminent stars, and express your glory in the resplendent beams of your virtues; so you suffer no black cloud of infamy to darken your precious names. She was a Princely Christian Courtier, who never approached the Court, but she meditated of the Court of heaven; never consorted with her Courtiers, but she contemplated those Citizens of heaven; nor ever entered the Presence-Chamber, but she thought of the presence of her Maker, the King of heaven. And how she was never conscious of that thought which redounded not to her Subject's honour; which she preferred next to the love of her Maker, before the fruition of an Empire. Such Meditations are receipts to cure all inordinate motions. Your Lives should be the lines to measure others Actions. Virtue is gracious in every subject, but most in that, which the Prince or Princess hath made gracious. Anciently, the World was divided into three parts, whereof Europe was held the soul; properly, every Politic State may be divided into three Cantons, whereof the Court is the Sun. You are Objects to many Eyes; be your actions platforms to many lives. I can by no means approve that wooing and winning Compliment (though most Courts too generally affect it) which makes her sole Object, purchase of Servants or Suitors. This garb tastes more of Courtesan than Courtier: it begets Corrivals, whose fatal Duello's end usually in blood. Our own State hath sometimes felt the misery of these tragic events; by suffering the loss of many generous and free-bred Sparkes; who, had not their Torches been extinguished in their blood, might to this day have survived, to their Country's joy and their own same. So great is the danger that lies hid in affable Compliments, promising aspects, affectionate glances, as they leave those who presumed of their own strength, holding themselves invulnerable, many times labouring of wounds incurable. Be you no such Basilisks; never promise a calm in your face, where you threaten a storm in your heart. Appear what you are, lest Censure tax you of inconstancy, by saying, you are not what you were. An open countenance and restrained bosom sort not well together. Suit your discourse to your action; both to a modest dispose of your affection. Throw abroad no loose Lures, wand'ring eyes, strayed looks; these delude the Spectators much, but the Actors most. A just revenge● by striving to take in others, they are taken by others. How dangerous do we hold it to be, in a time of infection, to take up any thing, be it never so precious, which we find lost in the street? One of your loose looks, be it darted with never so Complemental a state, is far more infectious, and mortally dangerous. There is nothing that sounds more cheerfully to the ear, or leaves a sweeter accent; nothing that conveys itself more speedily to the heart, or affords fuller content for the time, then conceit of love. It will immaze a perplexed wretch in a thousand extremes; whose amazed thoughts stand so deeply engaged to the Object of his affection, as he will sustain any labour, in hope of a trifling favour. Such sovereignty beauty retains; which, if discretion temper not, begets such an height of conceit in the party beloved, as it were hard to say, whether the Agent or Patient suffer more. To you let me return, who stand fixed in so high an Orb; as a graceful Majesty well becomes you, so let modesty grace that Majesty; that demeaning yourselves like Complete and gracious Courtiers on earth, you may become triumphant and glorious Courtiers in heaven. THis garb, Wherein Compliment may be omitted, as merely impertinent. as it suits not with all Persons, so sorts it not to all Places. For a Mechanic to affect Compliment, would as ill seem him, as for a rough-hewen Satire to play the Orator. It is an excellent point of discretion, to fit ones self to the quality or condition of that place where he resides. That Urbanity which becomes a Citizen, would relish of too much curiosity in a Countryman. That Compliment which gives proper grace to a Courtier, would beget derision or contempt, being personated by a Merchant or his Factor. In affairs of State, is required a graceful or Complete posture; which many times procures more reverence in the person interessed, then if that state were omitted. Whereas, in ordinary affairs of traffic, it were indiscretion to represent any such state, or to use any expression, either by way of discourse or action, that were not familiar. That person, who prefers Compliment before profit: and will rather speak not to be understood, then lose one polite-stollen phrase, which he hath purchased by ear only, and understands not, may account himself one among his bankrupt brethren, before he break. It is pitiful to hear what a remnant of fustian, for want of better Compliment, a Complete-Countrey-Gossip (for so she holds herself) will utter in one hour amongst her Pewfellows. How she will play the Schoolmistress in precepts of Discipline and moral Behaviour! Nothing so graceful in another, which she will not freely reprove; nothing so hateful in herself, which she will not confidently approve. Teach she will, before she be taught; and correct Form● itself, to bring Form out of love with itself. To which malady, none is more naturally subject, than some Ladies cashiered Gentlewoman, or one who hath played Schoolmistress in the City, and for want of competent pay, removes her Camp into the Country: where she brings enough of vanity into every family throughout the Parish. She will not stick to instruct her young Pupils in strange points of formality, enjoining them not to ask their Parent's blessing without a Compliment. These, as they were never Mistresses of families, so they are generally ignorant in employments of that kind. Those three principal works or faculties of the Understanding, which might enable them to Discourse, Distinguish, and to Choose, are so estranged from them, as their Discourse consists solely in arguments of vanity, their Distinction in mere shadows of formality, their Choice in subjects and Consorts of effeminacy. Eight things, saith Hypocrates, make one's flesh moist and fat; the first, to be merry and live at hearts ease; the second, to sleep much; the third, to lie in a soft bed; the fourth, to far well; the fifth, to be well apparelled and appointed; the sixth, to ride always on horseback; the seventh, to have our will; and the eighth, to be employed in Plays and pastimes, and in such time-beguiling recreations, as yield contentment and pleasure. These are the only receipts in request with those Shee-Censors we now discourse of; and of whom it may be said, as was sometimes spoken of one Margites, that he never ploughed, nor digged, nor did any thing all his life long that might tend unto goodness; and by necessary consequence wholly unprofitable to the world. Who, howsoever they are less than women at their work, yet at their meat (so unconfined is their appetite) they are more than men, and in their habits (so fantastic is their conceit, neither women nor men. So as, were Diogenes to encounter one of these, he might well expostulate the cause with her, as he did upon like occasion with a youth too curiously and effeminately dressed: If thou goest to men, all this is but in vain; if unto women, it is wicked. But these we hold altogether unworthy of your more generous society; whose excellent breeding hath sufficiently accommodated you for City, Court, and Country; and so fully informed you how to demean yourselves in all affairs; as I make little doubt, but you know wherein it may be admitted, as mainly consequent; and wherein omitted as merely impertinent. I mean therefore to descend briefly to the last branch of this Observation; declaring, what Ornament gives Compliment best beauty or accomplishment. IT is true, what the son of Sirach sometimes said; When a man hath done his best, Eccles. 18.6. he must begin again; and when he thinketh to come to an end, he must go again to his labour. There is nothing so exact, which may not admit of something to make it more perfect. We are to go by stairs and steps to the height of any story. Virtue's are the Stairs, Perfection the Spire. What Compliment gives best accomplishment. But I must tell you, Gentlewomen, the way for you to ascend, is first to descend: Complete you cannot be, unless you know how replete you are of misery. Humility is the stair that conducts you to this spire of glory. Your beauty may proclaim you fair; your discourse express a pregnancy of conceit; your behaviour confirm you outwardly complete. Yet there is something more than all this required, to make you absolutely accomplished. All these outward becommings, be they never so graceful, are but reflections in a glass; quite vanished, so soon as the glass is removed. Critolaus balance was of precious temper, and well deserving estimation with Heirs of Honour; who poised the goods of body and fortune in one scale, and goods of the mind in the other: where the goods of the mind so far weighed down the other, as the Heaven doth the Earth and Seas. To lead a dance gracefully; to marry your voice to your instrument musically; to express yourselves in prose and verse morally; are commendable qualities, and enforcing motives of affection. Yet I must tell you, for the first, though it appear by your feet to be but a mere dimension, in the opinion of the Learned, it is the Devil's procession: Where the Dance is the Circle, whose centre is the Devil. Which may be restrained by a more easy or moderate gloss to such wanton and immodest Revels, as have anciently been used in the Celebration of their profane feasts by Pagans, and are to this day by Pagan-christians; who, to gain applause from the Spectator, care not what shameless parts they play in the presence of their Maker. But what are these worth, being compared with these inward Ornaments or beauties of your mind; which only distinguish you from other creatures, and make you soveraignesses over the rest of God's creatures? You have that within you, which will best accomplish you. Let not that be corrupted, by which your crooked ways may be best corrected. Hold it no such necessary point of Compliment, to show a kind of majesty in a Dance; and to prefer it before the Compliment of a Religious task. Those sensual Courtesans, who are so delighted in songs, pipes, and earthly melody, shall in hell roar terribly and howl miserably; crying, as it is in the Apocalypses; Woe, Apoc. 8. Woe, Woe. Woe shall every one cry severally, for the reward they have received in hell eternally; saying and sighing, Woe is me that ever I was borne: for far better had it been for her, that she had never been borne. And again, Cursed be the womb that bore me a sinner. After this, shall she cry out in her second Woe against herself and all the members of her own body: Woe be unto you my accursed feet, what evil have you brought upon me, miserable wretch, who by your perverse paths and wicked ways have shut heavens gate of me? Woe unto you my hands, why have you deprived me by your sinful touch, and sensual embrace, of the Crown of glory? by your means am I brought to hell fire, where I shall be tormented eternally. Woe unto thee, thou cursed tongue, what mischief hast thou brought upon me, by uttering words so scurrilous and filthy, and singing uncivil songs so frequently? O ye cursed Eyes, who by your unlawful objects of concupiscence, have deprived me of God's presence, and never shed one tear for your sins in token of repentance! Now begins your intolerable weeping (ye tear-swollen eyes never dried) before all the Devils and the damned. Woe unto thee my heart, what hast thou put upon me, who by thy lustful thoughts and unlawful joys, hast deprived me of eternal joys? The third Woe, that she shall cry out, is this, saying: Woe unto the bitterness of my torments, for they are comfortless: woe unto the multitude of them, for they are numberless: woe unto the eternity of them, for they are endless. Would our wanton Courtesans, who sport it in their beds of Ivory, surfeit it in their delicacy, wanton it in the bosom of security, and dedicate their whole time to sensuality, reflect upon such a sovereign salve or spiritual balm as this; they would draw back their feet from the ways of wantonness, and exercise them wholly in the paths of righteousness. They would remove their hands from unchaste embraces, and inure them to the search of Scriptures. They would stop their mouths from uttering aught uncivilly, and teach their tongues to be Orators of modesty. They would turn their eyes from vanity, and fix them on the purest objects of eternity. That so, instead of bitterness of torments, they might taste the sweetness of divine comforts: instead of multitude of torments, they might partake the numberless number of God's mercies: and instead of the eternity of those torments, immortality with God's Saints and Servants. Prevention is the life of policy: the way to avoid those, and enjoy these, is to live in your Court here on earth, where you are spheared, as in the presence of God and his heavenly Angels, where your hope is seated. Though your feet be here, your faith should be there: here your Camp, there your Court. Mean time, while you sojourn here, you are to hold a good Christian the completest Courtier: and that virtue is the ornament, which gives Compliment the best accomplishment. Silken honour is like painted meat; it may feed the eye, but affords no nourishment. That Courtier's Coat gives a vading gloss, whose heart is not inwardly lined with grace. Let goodness guide you in the way, and happiness will crown you in the end. Let your Complete armour be righteousness, your Compliment lowliness: complete in nothing so much as holiness; that in your convoy from Earth, you may be endenized in heaven, natural Citizens, angelical Courtiers. THE ENGLISH GENTLEWOMAN. Argument. Decency recommended as requisite in four distinct Subjects: Decency the attractivest motive of affection: the smoothest path that leads to perfection. DECENCY. DEcency takes Discretion ever along with her to choose her fashion. Decency recommended as requisite in four distinct subjects. She accommodates herself to the place wherein she lives, the persons with whom she consorts, the rank or quality she partakes. She is too discreet to affect aught that may not seem her: too constant to change her habit for the invention of any fantastic wearer. What propriety she expresseth in her whole posture or carriage, you shall easily perceive, if you will but with a piercing eye, a serious survey, reflect upon her demeanour in her Gate, Look, Speech, Habit. Of which, distinctly, we purpose to entreat, in our Entry to this Observation; that by these you may probably collect the excellency of her condition. THat, GATE. wherein we should express ourselves the humblest, many times transports us most, and proclaims us proudest. It is no hard thing to gather the Disposition of our heart, by the dimension of our gate. What a circular gesture we shall observe some use in their pace, as if they were troubled with the vertigo! Others make a tinkling with their feet, and make discovery of their light thoughts, by their wanton gate. Others with a jetting and strutting pace, publish their haughty and self-conceited mind. Thus do our Wantoness (as if they had transparent bodies) display their folly, and subject themselves to the censure of levity. This cannot Decency endure. When she sees Women, whose modesty should be the Ornament of their beauty, demean themselves more like Actors than civil Professants, she compassionately suffers with them, and with choice precepts of moral instruction (wherein she hath ever shown herself a singular proficient) she labours to reclaim them: With amorous, but virtuous Rhetoric, she woos them, hoping by that means to win them. She bids them look back to preceding times, yea those, on which that glorious light which shines in those Christian days, never reflected; and there they shall find Women highly censured, for that their outward carriage only made them suspected. A veil covered their face, modesty measured out their pace; their Spectators were as so many Censors: Circumspect therefore were they of their carriage, lest they should become a scandal or blemish to their sex. Their repair to their Temples was decent, without any loose or light gesture; Entering their Temples, constant and settled was their behaviour. Quick was their pace in dispatch of household affairs; but slow in their Epicureall visits or sensual gossiping. They had not the art of imitating such huffing & mounting gates, as our light-spirited Dames now use. They were not as then learned to pace: so far estranged were they from the very lest conceit of vanity in this kind. How much more should these purer times, where verity is taught and embraced, vanity so much taxed and reproved, affect that most, which adorns and beautifies most? Is it not palpable folly, to walk so hautily in these streets of our captivity? Eye your feet, those bases of frailty, how they, who so proudly strut on earth, are but earth, and approach daily nearer their earth. The Swan, when she prides herself in her whiteness, reflects on her black feet, which brings down her plumes, and allays her selfe-conceit with more humbleness. What antic Pageants shall we behold in this survey of Earth? With what Apish gestures they walk, which taxeth them of lightness? How like Colosso's others walk, which discovers their haughtiness? How punctually these, as if they were Puppets drawn by an enforced motion? How fantastically those, as if their walk were a theatral action? These unstaid dimensions argue unsettled dispositions. All is not well with them. For if one of the Spartan Ephori was to lose his place, because he observed no Decency in his pace, how may we be opinioned of such Women, whose years exact of them staidness, whose places retain in them more peculiar reverence, and whose descents enjoin them to a state-reservance; when they, to gain observance, admit of any new, but undecent posture? Deserve these approvement? No; discretion cannot prise them, nor judgement praise them. Vulgar opinion, whose applause never receives life from desert, may admire what is new, but discretion that only which is neat. It is one thing to walk honestly as on the day, another thing to walk uncivilly as on the night. Decency becomes the one; Deformity the other. Neither only are modest women to be cautelous how they walk, but where they walk. Some places there be, whereto if they repair, walk they never so Civilly, they cannot walk honestly. Those who value reputation, will not be seen there; for Honour is too dear a purchase to be set at sale. Such as frequent these places, have exposed themselves to shame; and made an irrevocable Contract with sin. They make choice of the Twilight, lest their paths should be discovered; and shroud their distained actions with the sable Curtain of night, lest they should be displayed. These, howsoever their feet walk softly, their heart's post on swiftly, to seize on the voluptuous prey of folly. far be these ways from your walks, virtuous Ladies, whose modesty makes you honoured of your Sex. Though your feet be here below, let your faith be above. Let no path of pleasure draw you from those joys which last for ever. Though the world be your walk while you sojourn here; heaven should be your aim, that you may repose eternally there. Live devoutly, walk demurely, profess constantly; that devotion may instruct you, your ways direct you, your profession conduct you to your heavenly Country. It is a probable argument, that such an one hates her Country, where only she is to become Citizen, who thinks it to be well with her here, where she is a Pilgrim. Walk in this maze of your Pilgrimage, that after death you may enjoy a lasting heritage. So shall you praise God in the gate, and, after your Christian race finished, receive a Crown. IT is most true, LOO●E. that a wanton Eye is the truest evidence of a wand'ring and distracted mind. The Arabians proverb is elegant; Shut the windows, that the house may give light. It is death that enters in by the windows. The House may be secured, if these be closed. Whence it was, that princely Prophet prayed so earnestly, Lord turn away mine eyes from vanity. And hence appears man's misery: That those Eyes, which should be the Cisterns of sorrow, Limbeckes of contrition, should become the lodges of lust, and portals of our perdition. That those which were given us for assistants and associates, should become our assassinate. Our Eye is made the sense of sorrow, because the sense of sin; yet more apt is she to give way to sin, then to find one tear to rinse her sin. An unclean eye is the messenger of an unclean heart: confine the one, and it will be a means to rectify the other. Many dangerous objects will a wand'ring eye find, whereon to vent the disposition of her corrupt heart. No place is exempted, no subject freed. The ambitious eye makes honour her object, wherewith she afflicts herself, both in aspiring to what she cannot enjoy, as likewise in seeing another enjoy that, whereto herself did aspire. The Covetous makes wealth her object; which she obtains with toil, enjoys with fear, foregoes with grief: for being got they load her, loved they soil her, lost they gall her. The Envious makes her Neighbours flourishing field, or fruitful harvest, her object; she cannot but look on it, looking pine and repine at it, and repining justly consume her spirit with envying it. The Lascivious makes beauty her object, and with a leering look, while she throweth out her lure to catch others, she becomes catcht herself. This object because it reflects most on your sex, let it be thus disposed, that the inward eye of your souls may be on a superior beauty fixed. Do ye admire the comeliness of any creature? remove your eye from that object, and bestow it on the contemplation of your Creator. Worms and flies, that have lain dead all winter by reflex of the Sun beams, are revived: so these fleshflies, who have been long time buried in these sensual Objects of earth, no sooner reflect on the Sun of righteousness, than they become enlivened and enlightened. Those films which darkened the eye of their minds, are removed, those thick Cataracts of earthly vanities are dispersed and dispelled, and a new light into a new heart infused. I know well, Gentlewomen, that your resort to places of eminent resort, cannot but minister to you variety of Objects. Yea, even where nothing but chaste thoughts, stayed looks, and zealous desires should harbour, are now and then loose thoughts, light looks, and licentious desires in especial honour. The means to prevent this malady, which like a spreading ulcer disperseth itself in every society, is neither willingly to take nor be taken. Dinah may be a proper Emblem for the eye; she seldom strays abroad, but she is in danger of ravishing. Now to preserve purity of heart, you must observe a vigilant discipline over every sense. Where, if the eye, which is the light of the body, be not well disposed, the rest of the senses cannot choose but be much darkened. We say, that the want of one peculiar sense supplies that defect with an higher degree of perfection in the rest. Sure I am, there is no one sense that more distempers the harmony of the mind, nor prospect of the Soul, than this window of the body. It opens ever to the Raven, but seldom to the Dove. Raving affections it easily conveys to the heart; but Dovelike innocence it rarely retains in the breast. As it is a member of the flesh, so becomes it a servant of the flesh; apprehending with greediness, whatsoever may minister fuel to carnal concupiscence. This you shall easily correct, by fixing her on that pure and absolute object, for which she was made. It is observed by professed Oculists (an observation right worthy a Christians serious consideration) that whereas all creatures have but four Muscles to turn their eyes round about, man hath a fifth to pull his eyes up to heaven. Do not then depress your eyes, as if they were fixed on earth, nor turn them round, by gazing on the fruitless vanities of earth; but on heaven, your haven after earth. In the Philosopher's scale▪ the soul of a fly is of more excellence than the Sun; in a Christian scale, the soul of man is infinitely more precious than all creatures under the Sun. Preserve then the honour of a beautiful soul, which suffers infinitely when it is blemished with any soil. So order and dispose your looks, as censure may not tax you of lightness, nor an amorous glance impeach you of wantonness. Send not forth a tempting eye to take another; nor entertain a tempting look darting from another. Neither take nor be taken. To become a prey to others, will slave you● to make a prey of others, will transport you. Look then upward, where the more you look you shall like, the longer you live you shall love. SPEECH. WIthout Speech can no society subsist. By it we express what we are, as vessels discover themselves best by their sound. Discretion makes opportunity her anvil, whereon is wrought a seasonable discourse. Otherwise, howsoever we speak much, we discourse little. That sage Stagyrian debating of the convenience and propriety of discourse before Alexander, maintained, that none were to be admitted to speak (by way of positive direction) but either those that managed his wars, or his Philosophers which governed his house. This Opinion tasted of too much strictness (will our women say) who assume to themselves a privilege in arguments of discourse, be the argument never so course whereon they treat. Truth is, their tongues are held their defensive armour; but in no particular detract they more from their honour, then by giving too free scopeto that glibery member. For to such as profess their ability at this weapon, may that saying of Pandolphus be properly applied: They speak much ill, but they speak little well; they speak much, but do little. Again, They do little well, but they do much ill; they say well, but do ill. They promise much, but do little. What restraint is required in respect of the tongue, may appear by that ivory guard or garrison with which it is impaled. See, how it is double warded, that it may with more reservancy and better security be restrained! To give liberty to the tongue to utter what it list, is the argument of an indiscreet person. In much Speech there can never want sin, it either leaves some tincture of vainglory, which discovers the proud heart, from whence it proceeded; or some taste of scurrility, which displays the wanton heart, from whence it streamed; or some violent and dispassionate heat, which proclaims a rancorous heart, from whence it issued. Whereas, a well-disposed mind will not speak before it conceive; nor deliver aught by way of expression, till it be prepared by a well-seasoned deliberation. That Philosopher's speech deserves retention; who seeing a silent guest at a public feast, used these words: If thou be'st wise, thou art a fool; if a fool, thou art wise in holding thy peace. For as propriety of speech ministers no less delight than profit to the Hearer: so it argues discretion in the Speaker, begetting him such attention, as not one syllable falls from him, which merits not retention. In your dialect then, you are not to hide your talon, if it probably appear that you may improve any one by it. Wherein let me advise you never to tie yourselves so strictly to elegancy or ornament, as by the outward trimming to forget the benefit of speech, and so fall into expressions impertinent. This were to prefer the rind before the pith: and to engage Sense to a profuse Speech. As discourse usually edifying confers a benefit to the Hearer; so discourses guiltless and wand'ring, as they tyre the ear, so they tax the discretion of the Speaker. It was an excellent precept of Ecclesiasticus: Thou that art young, speak, if need be, and yet scarcely when thou art twice asked. Comprehend much in few words; in many be as one that is ignorant: be as one that understandeth, and yet hold thy tongue. The direction is general, but to none more consequently useful then to young women; whose bashful silence is an ornament to their Sex. Volubility of tongue in these, argues either rudeness of breeding, or boldness of expression. The former may be reclaimed by a discreet Tutor, but the latter, being grounded on arrogancy of conceit, seldom or never. It will beseem you, Gentlewomen, whose generous education hath estranged you from the first, and whose modest disposition hath weaned you from the last, in public consorts, to observe rather than discourse. It suits not with her honour, for a young woman to be prolocutor: But especially, when either men are in presence, or ancient Matrons, to whom she owes a civil reverence, it will become her to tip her tongue with silence. Touching the subject of your discourse, when opportunity shall exact it of you, and without touch of immodesty expect it from you; make choice of such arguments as may best improve your knowledge in household affairs, and other private employments. To discourse of State-matters, will not become your auditory: nor to dispute of high points of Divinity, will it sort well with women of your quality. These Shee-Clarkes many times broach strange opinions; which, as they understand them not themselves, so they labour to entangle others of equal understanding to themselves. That Divine sentence, being made an individuate consort to their memory, would reclaim them from this error, and free them from this opinionate censure: God forbid, that we should not be readier to learn then to teach. Women, as they are to be no Speakers in the Church, so neither are they to be disputers of controversies of the Church. Holy Bernard pleasantly glanced at these, when on a time entering a Church, wherein the image of our Lady was erected, he was saluted by the Image in this manner, Good morrow Bernard; which device having quickly discovered, perceiving some person to be purposely enclosed in it, he forthwith replied: Your Ladyship hath forgot yourself; Women should be no Speakers in the Church. In one word, as modesty gives the best grace to your behaviour, so moderation of Speech to your discourse. Silence in a Woman is a moving Rhetoric, winning most, when in words it wooeth least. Now, to give Speech and Silence their distinct attributes or personal Characters, we may gather their several tempers by the several effects derived from them. Ambros. in lib. de offic. Greg. in mor▪ More shall we see fall into sin by Speech then Silence: Yea, whosoever intendeth himself to speak much, seldom observes the course of doing what is just. In the whole current of your discourse, let no light subject have any place with you: this, as it proceeds from a corrupt and indisposed heart, so it corrupts the hearer. Likewise, beware of selfe-prayse; it argues you have slow neighbours, or few deserts. Let not calumny run descant on your tongue: it discovers your passion too much; in the mean time, venting of your spleen affords no cure to your grief, no salve to your sore. If opportunity give your sex argument of discourse; let it neither taste of affectation, for that were servile; nor touch upon any wanton relation, for that were uncivil; nor any State-politicall action, for the height of such a subject, compared with your weakness, were unequal. If you affect Rhetoric, let it be with that familiarity expressed, as your plainness may witness for you, that you do not affect it. This will make your Speech seem gracious to the Hearer, confer a native modesty on the Speaker, and free you of all prejudicated censure. HABIT. THere is nothing which moves us more to pride it in sin, then that which was first given us to cover our shame. The fruit of a Tree made man a sinner; and the leaves of a Tree gave him a cover. In your Habit is your modesty best expressed; your dispositions best discovered. The Habit of the mind is discerned by the state or posture of the body; the condition or quality of the body by the Habit, which either adds or detracts from her beauty. As we cannot probably imagine such to have modest minds, who have immodest eyes; so can we not properly say such women to be modest matrons, or professors of piety, who in their attire show arguments of their immodesty. It skils not much, for the quality of your habits, whether they be silken or woollen, so they be civil and not wanton. For albeit, some have affirmed that all gorgeous attire is the attire of sin, the quality of the person may seem to extenuate the quality of that sin. For noble and eminent personages were in all times admitted to wear them; and to be distinguished by them: Neither, indeed, is the sumptuousness of the habit so reprehensive, as the fantasticness of the habit in respect of the form or fashion. It is this which derogates higly from the repute of a Christian, to see her affect variety and inconstancy of attire, more than ever did Pagan. There is nothing which introduceth more effeminacy into any flourishing State, than vanity in habit. Where we may observe fashion, many times, so long affected, till all fashion become exiled. Surely, whatsoever our lighter disposed Courtesans think, it is Civility which adds most grace; Decency which expresseth best state; and Comeliness in attire, which procures most love. Other habits, as they display the mind of the wearer, so are they subjects of laughter or contempt to any discreet beholder. Time is too precious to be made a Pageant or Morris on. These misconceived ornaments are mere deformities to good minds. Virtuous and discreet Matrons would be loath to wear aught that might give least scandal or offence to their sex. Foreign fashions are no bai●s to catch them, nor fantastic, rather phanaticke dress to delude them. They cannot eye that habit which deserves approving, nor that attire which merits loving, where Civility is not pattern. Decency is their choicest Every, Cic. in lib. de leg. which sets them forth above all Embroidery. There was an ancient Edict amongst the Romans, purposely to rid the State of all useless loiterers, that no Roman should go through the streets of the City, unless he carried with him the badge or signal of that trade whereby he lived: insomuch, that Marc. Aurelius, speaking of the diligence of the Romans, giveth them this deserving testimony, That all of them followed their labour. Now I marvel, whether upon due survey of all those Artisans, either Periwig, Gregorian-maker, or Tyre-woman, had any set place or proper vocation, or what badges they might bear to signify their profession. Would not these newfound Artists have been rather derided then approved, jeered then applauded? Sure, Rome was more civil then to give way to so contagious an evil. Vesta had her maidens, so had Viriplaca her Matrons; but neither of their followers could admit of any new minted fashions. That Lady City had never soveragnized over so many rich States, swelling Empires, victorious Princes, had she exposed herself to such vanity, which had been the greatest Eclipse to her spreading glory. To you let me bend my discourse, whose more generous parts confer more true beauty on themselves, than these outward fopperies can ever do: do not betray your names to suspicion. The Chaplet of fame is not reserved for Wantoness, nor such as suit themselves to the habit of lightness; for these add one degree more to their sex's weakness: but for such women as array themselves in comely apparel, 1 Tim. 2.9, 10. with shamefastness and modesty, not with braided hair, or gold, or pearls, or costly apparel. But, as becometh women that profess the fear of God. 1 Pet. 3.5. For even after this manner, in time past, did the holy women, which trusted in God, tire themselves. Here you have a direct platform, how to attire yourselves outwardly; suiting your civil habit with variety of sweet graces inwardly. Let not then these Spider-cauls delude you, discretion will laugh at them, modesty loathe them, Decency contemn them. Loose bodies sort best with these adulterate beauties. Those, whose conversation is in heaven, though they so journey here on earth; Those, whose erected thoughts sphere them in an higher Orb than this Circle of frailty; Those, whose spotless affections have devoted their best service to goodness, and made Modesty the exact mould of all their actions, cannot endure to stoop to such brainsick Lures. And such are you, whose generous descent, as it claims precedence of others, so should your virtuous demeanour in these four distinct subjects, GATE, LOOK, SPEECH, HABIT, improve your esteem above others. In Gate, by walking humbly; in Look, by disposing it demurely; in Speech, by delivering it moderately; in Habit, by attiring yourselves modestly: all which, like four choice borders, perfumed with sweetest odours, will beautify those lovely lodges of your souls with all Decency. Mean while, imprint these Divine motions in your memory. And first for the first, hold this tenet; To walk, walking to meditate, meditating to make the subject of it your Maker, is the best portion of the Creature: for the second, to fix your eye with that indifferency on the Creature, as it never avert your contemplative eye from your Creator: for the third, to direct your Speech to the benefit of the hearer, and to avoid impertinences for conscience-sake far more than censure: for the fourth and last, to make choice of that Habit, whose Civility may do you honour, and publish you examples of Decency to any discreet or temperate beholder. Decency the attractivest motive of affection. WHat is it that conveys more affection to the heart, than Decency in the object we affect? The Spouse in the Canticles was black, but comely; and this gave praise to her beauty. A strayed look may move affection in a light heart, but in a virtuous mind it begets hate. Truth is, in this disordered age, where the best shot to be discharged is the Tavern bill, the best Alarm is the sounding of healths, and the most absolute March is reeling; discretion hath received such a maim, as affection is seldom measured by what we are, but what we wear. Vanity hath set up her Flag; and more freshwater soldiers desire to fight under her Banner, than the Ensign of honour. But all this works little upon a constant and rightly-tempered disposition. Such an one plants there his love, where with comfort he may live. Do you think that a jetting Gate, a leering Look, a glibery Tongue, or gaudy Attire can move affection in any one worthy your love? Sure no; he deserves a light one for his choice, who makes his choice by one of these. To be an admirer of one of these, were to prefer in his choice a May-marrian before a Modest Matron. Now there are some fashions which become one incomparably more than another: the reason whereof may be imputed either to the native propriety of the party using that form, habit, or compliment; or else to the quality of the person, which makes the fashion used, infinitely more gracious. For the first, you shall never see any thing imitated, but it seems the imitator worst at the first: Habit will bring it into a second nature; but till such time as custom hath matured it, many imperfections will usually attend it. Whereas, whatsoever is naturally inbred in us, will best beseem and adorn us; it needs no other face than what nature gave it, and would generally become worse, were it never so little enforced. For the second, as in any theatral presentment, what becomes a Peer or Potentate, would not sort with the condition of any inferior substitute; every one must be suited to the person he presents: So in the Theatre of state, distinct fashions both in Habit and Compliment are to be retained, according to the place wherein he is ranked. Lucrece, no doubt, stamped a deeper impression of affection in the heart of her beholder, by addressing herself to hous-wivery and purple-spinning, than others could ever do with their rear banquets and riotous spending. All are not of Aegystus mind, who was taken with a Compliment of lightness. This argued, that a youthful heat had rather surprised his amorous heart, than any discreet affection preferred him to his choice. But how vading is that love, which is so lightly grounded? To what dangerous overtures is it exposed? Where Virtue is not directrice in our choice, our inconstant minds are ever prone to change. We find not what we expected; nor digest well what we formerly affected; All is out of square, because discretion contrived not the building. To repair this breach, and make the Object we once entertained, ever beloved: Let nothing give us Content, but what is decent. This is the Habit, Gentlewomen, which will best become you to be wooed in, and content a discreet Suitor most to have you won in. All others are neither worth viewing, wooing, weighing, nor wearing. Rich jewels, the more we look on them, the more are we taken with them. Such jewels, are modest women, whose countenance promiseth goodness, an enforced smile native bashfulness, every posture such tokens of Decency and comeliness, as Caius Tarqvinius in his Caia could conceive no fuller happiness: She, I say, who made wool and purple her day's task, and this her constant impreze, Where thou art Caius, I am Caia. Conform then your generous Dispositions to a Decency of fashion, that you may attract to yourselves, and beget in others, motives of affection. Fountains run by many winding and mazie Currents into one main River; Decency the smoothest path that leads to perfection. Rivers by sundry Channels into one main Ocean. Several ways direct passengers into one City; but one only way guides man to the heavenly City. This way is Virtue, which like some choice confection sweetens the difficulty of every Occurrent that encounters her in her quest after Perfection. Of all those Cardinal Virtues, it is Temperance only which seasons and gives them a virtuous relish. Which Virtue dilates itself to several branches; all which bud forth into one savoury fruit or other. It is true, that he who is every way Complete, may be properly styled an absolute man. But what is it which makes him Complete? It is not a served face, an artful Cringe, or an Italianate duck that deserves so exquisite a title. Another age will discountenance these, and cover these Complete formalists with dust. No, Ladies; it is something that partakes of a more Divine Nature, than a mere Complemental gesture. If you would aspire to perfection, observe the mean, that you may attain the end. Temperance you cannot embrace, if Decency be estranged from your choice. If temperate, you cannot choose but be decent: for it includes an absolute moderation of our desires in all subjects. Come then, Gentlewomen, love to be decent, and that will teach you the best Compliment. You have that in you, which, divinely employed, will truly ennoble you. Your descent may give you an higher ascent by way of precedency before others, but this you cannot appropriate to your own deserts, but that Nobility of blood which is derived to you by others. Labour to have something of your own, which you may challenge to be yours properly, without any help of an ancient pedigree. How well doth it seem you, to express a civil decent state in all your actions? You are in the eyes of many, who precisely observe you, and desire to imitate whatsoever they note observable in you. You may then become excellent patterns unto others, by retaining decency, and entertaining her for your follower. She will make you appear gracious in their sight, whose judgements are pure and uncorrupted; howsoever our Corky censurers traduce you, your fame cannot be blemished, nor the odour of those virtues which so sweetly chafe and perfume you, decayed. Decency attended you in your life, and the memory of your virtues shall crown you after death. Aug. Soliloq. cap▪ 35. Even there, Where youth never ageth, life never endeth, beauty never fadeth, love never faileth, health never vadeth, joy never decreaseth, grief is never felt, groans are never heard, no object of sorrow to be seen, gladness ever to be found, no evil to be feared. Yea, the King shall take pleasure in your beauty, and at your end invest you with endless glory▪ Prise not then the censure of sensual man, for he is wholly set on vanity; but fix your eyes on him, who will clothe you with eternity. Sen. de vita beata. Let this be your Crown of comfort, that many are improved by your Example, many weaned from sin, many won to Zion. By sowing the seed of goodness, that is, by giving good examples, expressed best by the effectual works of faith, you shall reap a glorious harvest. Actions of goodness shall live in you, and cause all good men to love you. Whereas, those are to be esteemed worst, who not only use things evilly in themselves, but likewise towards others. For, of so many deaths is every one worthy, as he hath left examples of naughtiness unto posterity. M●d●. 4. Greg. in mor. Let virtues then be stairs to raise you; an improved fame the rudder to steer you; these will add unto your honour, seat you above the reach of Censure, and join you individually to your best Lover. THE ENGLISH GENTLEWOMAN. Argument. Estimation, a Gentlewoman's highest prize; how it may be discerned to be real; how superficial: how it may be impregnably preserved; how irreparably lost: The absolute end, whereto it chiefly aspires, and wherein it cheerfully rests. ESTIMATION. ESTIMATION is a good opinion drawn from some probable grounds: Estimation, a Gentlewoman's highest prize. An unvaluable gemm●, which every wise Merchant, who tenders his honour, prefers before life. The loss of this makes him an irreparable Bankrupt. All persons ought to rate it high, because it is the value of themselves, though none more dear than those, in whom modesty, and a more impressive fear of disgrace usually lodge. These, so cautelous are they of suspicion, as they will not engage their good names to purchase affection. Public resorts, because they may corrupt, they avoid; Privacy they consort with, and in it converse with their own thoughts, whether they have in them aught that may betray them. They observe what in others deserves approvement, and this they imitate; with an uncorrupt eye they note others defects, which they make use of as a caveat. For, as life is a Globe of examples; so these make the pious examples of others, the Models or Patterns of their lives. Pure is their mould, but far purer the temper of their mind. Fame they hold the sweetest flower that ever grew near the border of Time. Which, lest either it should wither for want of moisture, or wanting warmth should lose its vigour, they bedew it with gracious affects, and renew it with zealous resolves. Descent, as they draw it from others, so would they improve it in themselves. Ancient houses, now and then, stand in need of props and pillars; these would they have supplied with the Cardinal virtues. These are Emblems of yourselves (Noble Ladies) who so highly tender your honour, as Estimation gains you more than what your bloods gave you. For this is inherent and primitive, whereas the other is descendent and derivative. It is a Princely command of your affections, which mounts you to this height of goodness: distinguishing betwixt blind love, and discreet affection. Pleasure cannot make you so forgetful of your honour, as to deprive you of that in a moment, which you shall never recover. Virtue hath taken that seazure of you, as no light thought can seize on you, or dispossess her of that claim she hath in you. Treacherous Tarpeia's may be taken with gifts; but your honour is of too high an estimate to suffer the least blemish for reward. You observe what stains have laid, and do yet lie upon many ancient families by means of attainders in their Progenitors. Their bloods (say we) were corrupted, whereby their estates became confiscated, their houses from their lineal successors estranged, and they to lasting infamy exposed. Certainly, though not in so high degree (for these were Capital) many families have received deep stains from light actions; which neither time, though never so aged, could wear out, nor the living exploits of their noble successors wipe off. For the highest family sticks ever upon it the deepest infancy, when at any time stained: and diffuseth her beams with fullest glory, where it is by piety graced. Vice hath ever been of a deeper dye than virtue; and the memory of the one commonly survives the fame of the other. Wounds, when they are healed, leave their scars behind them: Paths retain their prints. Your memory shall neither receive life from that noble blood which sprinkles in you, nor from any monumental shrine which may her eafter cover you, but from those precious odours of your everliving virtues, which shall eternize you. These are of power to make such as long since died, and whose unequalled beauty is for many ages since to ashes turned, retain a flourishing fame in the grateful memory of the living. Penelope for spending chaste her days, As worthy as Ulysses was of praise. A daily siege she suffered, and in her Conquest equal was she to those victorious Peers of Greece, who made Troy their triumph. Estimation was her highest prize. Suitors she got, yet amidst these, was not her Ulysses forgot. Long absence had not estranged her affection; youthful consorts could not move in her thoughts the least distraction; neither could opportunity induce her to give way to any light action. Well might Greece then esteem her Penelope of more lasting fame then any Pyramid that ever she erected. Her unblemished esteem was of far purer stuff than any Ivory statue that could be reared. Nor was Rome less beholden to her Lucrece, who set her honour at so high a price, as she held death too light to redeem such a prize. Though force, frights, foes, and furies gazed upon her, These were no wounds but wonders to her honour. The presence of a Prince no less amorous than victorious, could not win her; though with him price, prayer, and power did jointly woo her. Well deserved such two modest Matrons the choice Embraces of two such heroic Champions, as might equal their constant Loves with the tender of their dearest lives. And two our Histories afford, whom succeeding fame hath recorded eminent, because double Conquerors, both of Cities and of themselves; puissant and continent. This noble testimony we receive of Scipio, that being a young man of twenty four years of age, in the taking of a City in Spain, he repressed the slaming heat of his youthful desires, when a beautiful maid was brought him, restoring her to a young man called Allutius, to whom she was espoused, with a great reward. Right worthy was he to conquer another, who could with such temper subdue himself: such good success hath ever attended on these Moral virtues, Tit. Liv. lib. 4. cap. 11. though professed by Pagans. The other Hero was rightly AUGUSTUS both in name and nature; and wheresoever, you look, a victorious CAESAR. Cleopatra kneeled at his feet, laid baits for his eyes; but in vain; her beauties were beneath that Prince's chastity. Absolute Commanders were these Heroic Princes of their affections, yet a far more singular argument of his composed disposition, and of Moral, if not Divine Mortification, showed that young man SPUTIMIA in Valerius Maximus, whose beauty did so incomparably become him, as it occasioned many women to lust after him: which this noble youth no sooner perceived, than he purposely wounded his face, that by the scar he sustained, his beauty might become more blemished, and consequently all occasion of lusting after it, clearly removed. This might be instanced in one of your own Sex; a religious votaress, whose chaste bosom was a sacred Recluse dedicated to goodness: and who upon the encounter of a lascivious Lover, returned this answer: Sir, I honour you so much, as I have chosen rather to suffer, then by my tyrannous beauty to make you a Prisoner: Wherewith discovering her face, in complexion much altered, by some impostured colours, which she had caused to be laid upon it: he vowed to relinquish his suit, imagining that she had poisoned her face, to wain him from his impure affection. This he had no sooner said, than she ran to a Spring near adjoining to wash it off: See, said she, I am the same I was; but you are much better: for now you are brought to see your error, in being so much taken with a skin-deepe beauty, which only consists in die and colour. Now (Gentlewomen) if you make Estimation your highest prize; if you prefer honour before pleasure, or what else is dear or tender; your fame will find wings to ●ly with. This will gain you deserving Suitors. Portion may woo a worlding; Proportion a youthful Wanton; but it is Virtue that wins the heart of discretion. Surely, I have seldom known any make this esteem of honour, and die a contemptible beggar. Such as have been prodigal of it, have felt the misery of it; whereas, a chaste mind hath ever had something to succour and support it. Thus you see what this inward beauty is, which if you enjoy, you sit far above the reach of Calumny; age cannot taint it, nor youth tempt it. It is the Estimation within you, that so confines you, as you hate that place which gives opportunity, that person which makes importunity his agent to lay siege to your Chastity. Now we are to descend to the second branch, wherein we are to show you how this Estimation, which is your highest prize, may be discerned to be real; which is not gathered by the first appearance, but a serious and constant trial. IN Philosophy, a man begins with experience, and then with belief; but in Divinity, we must first begin in faith, and then proceed to knowledge. True it is, that the Sun, Moon, and Stars become subject to vanity; yet charity bids me believe, that there are many beauteous and resplendent Stars in this our Firmament, many fresh fragrant Roses in this our enclosed Garden of Albion, who have preserved their beauty without touch, their honour without taint. Where, if vanity did touch them, yet did it not so seize on them, as to disfigure or transform them. You (noble Gentlewomen) are those Stars, whose glory can never be eclipsed, so long as your Estimation lives unstained; you are those fragrant Roses, whose beauty cannot be tainted, so long as your stalk of honour grows untouched. Now, to the end that your lustre many not be like to that of the Glow-worm, How Estimation may be discerned to be real. nor rotten wood, which is merely imaginary, compared with that is real; you are not to make fair and glorious pretences, purposely to gull the world, and cast a mist before the eyes of bleered judgements. You may find masks to shroud your face; but no shroud to enskreane you from the eye of Heaven. No, you are to be really, what you appear outwardly. These that walk in the Clouds, though they deceive others much, yet they deceive themselves most. Observe then this rule of direction; it will accomplish you more than any outward ornament that Art can bestow on you; Be indeed what you desire to be thought. Are you Virgins? dedicate those inward Temples of yours to chastity; abstain from all corrupt society; inure your hands to works of piety, your tongues to words of modesty. Let not a strayed look tax you of lightness, nor a desire of gadding impeach you of wantonness. The way to win an husband is not to woo him, but to be wooed by him. Let him come to you, not you to him. Proffered ware is not worth the buying. Your states are too pure, to be set at sale; too happy, to be weary of them. So long as you live as you are, so your minds be pure, you cannot possibly be poor. You have that within you, will enrich you, so you conform your minds to your means. In the discourse of virtues, and true estimate of them, none was ever held more excellent than that which is found in chaste youth. You are Conquerors in that, wherein the greatest Conquerors have failed. Your chaste paths are not traced with wand'ring desires; your private Chambers arrased with amorous passions; you spin not out the tedious night in Ah me's. Your repast finds no hindrance in digestion; your harmless repose no lovesick distraction. Others you may command; by none commanded. Others will vow their service unto you; while you are from all servitude freed. Live then worthy the freedom of so noble a Condition; for your Virgin state wants nothing that may enlarge her freedom. Again, are you Wives? you have attained an honourable state; and by it made partakers of that individuate union, where one soul ruleth two hearts, and one heart dwelleth in two bodies. You cannot suffer in that, wherein you have not one share. Grief by your Consort is allayed; joy by partaking with him is augmented. You have now taken upon you to become Secretaries to others as well as yourselves; but being one and the same with yourselves, do not betray their trust, to whose trust you have recommended yourselves. Imagine now (to recall to memory an ancient Custom) that you have broken the axletree of your Coach at your door; you must be no more stragglers. These walking Burses and movable Exchanges, sort not with the constancy of your Condition. You must now intend the growth and proficience of those Olive branches about your table. Like a curious and continuate builder, you must ever address yourselves to one work or other. From their infancy to their youth. from their youth to their maturer growth. For the first, I know well that distich to be most true: A mother to be Nurse, that's great and fair, Is now held base: True Mothers they be rare. But far was it from those ancient heroic Ladies, to think this to be either a disgrace to their place, or a blemish to their beauty. Their names are by aged Annals memorised, and shall by these of ours be revived. Such were Cornelia, the mother of Gracchus, and Vetruria of Coriolanus; who became examples of goodness and chastity; Educating their children which they had brought up from their own breasts, with the milk of morality. The like did Portia the wife of Brutus; Cleobula the daughter of Cleobulus, one of the seven Sages of Greece; Sulpitia the wife of Calenus, who not only instructed her children which she had tenderly nursed, with excellent precepts while she lived, but left sundry memorable instructions, as Legacies or Mother's blessings to them, when she died. Hortensia, the excellent daughter of a most eloquent Orator, deserved no less fame, for her motherly care in nursing and breeding, her ability in copious and serious discoursing, her gravity in composing and digesting such golden sentences, as she afterwards recommended to the perusal of her surviving Children. Edesia borne at Alexandria, far excelled others in profundity of learning, and piety of living; she was admired by such as lived in her time: performing the office of a Nurse in her children's infancy, of a Guardian in their minority, of a Sage Counsellor in their maturity. Paulina the wife of Seneca, as she was excellently seasoned with the precepts of her husband, so she surceased not from commending them to the practice of those children she had by her husband. Whence it was, that Seneca bemoaned the ignorance of his mother, for that she had not so exactly observed the precepts of his Father: by reflecting upon his Paulina, who was so serious an observer and improver of the Directions of her husband. What shall I speak of Theano, the daughter of Metapontus? Phemone, who was first that ever composed heroic verse? Corinnathia, who exceeded the Poet Pindarus in her curious and artful measures; and contending slew several times with him for the Garland? Argentaria Pollia, the wife of Lucan; whom she is reported to have assisted in those his high and heroic composures? Zenobia the Queen of Palmira, who learned both the Greek and Latin tongue, and compiled an Excellent History; approving herself no less a constant wife to her husband, than a nursing Mother to her children? Theodosia the younger daughter of the virtuous and victorious Theodosius; no less renowned for her learning and other exquisite endowments of mind, than by being inaugurated with an imperial title, to which she was afterwards advanced. The Centons of Homer she composed, and into one volume reduced, which to her surviving glory were after published. Diodorus Logicus his five daughters, all which excelled in learning and chastity, and left memorials of their motherly care to their posterity. These were tender Nurses, careful Mothers, reverend Matrons. Or to give them that title which antiquity hath bestowed on them; they were in so dark and cloudy a time, patterns of piety, precedents of purity, champions of chastity, mirrors of modesty, jewels of integrity: Women (to use Plutarch's words) so devoted to contemplating, as they conceived no delight in dancing; yet could not contemplation estrange them from performing such proper offices as did concern them. They knew what it was to obey; that it was not fit for an inferior member to command the head, nor for them to soveraignize over their husbands. What had sometimes been taught them by their Mothers, they now carefully recommend to the serious review of their Daughters: Sen-in Octov. Wives with obedience husbands should subdue, For by this means they'll be subdued to you. Thus learned they the duty of a wife, before they aspired to that title: conform yourselves to their examples: the cloud which kept them from a full view of their condition, is in respect of you, dispersed; your eyes are cleared, not with any Pagan error filmed. Be then in this your Christian conjugal Pilgrimage so conformed, that as with increase of days, so with approvement of deserts you may be confirmed. Again, are you widows? you deserve much honour, if you be so indeed. This name both from the Greek and Latin hath received one consonant Etymology; deprived or destitute. Great difference then is there betwixt those widows who live alone, and retire themselves from public concourse, and those which frequent the company of men. For a widow to love society, albeit her intentions relish nothing but sobriety, gives speedy wings to spreading infamy. Saint Hierom writing to Eustachia, gives her this counsel; If thou shalt find any question in Scripture, harder than thou canst well resolved; demand satisfaction from such an one, who is of a most approved life, ripe age; that by the integrity of his person, thou mayst be secured from the least aspersion: for in popular concourse and Court-resorts there is no place for widows: for in such meetings she exposeth her honour to danger, which above all others she ought incomparably to tender. Yea, but, will you object, admit our inheritance, family, fortunes, and all lie a bleeding, may we not make recourse to public Courts, for redress of our public wrongs? What of all this? Do not complain that you are desolate or alone. Modesty affecteth silence and secrecy; a chaste woman solitariness and privacy. If you have business with the judge of any Court, and you much fear the power of your adversary, employ all your care to this end, that your faith may be grounded in those promises of Christ: Your Lord maketh intercession for you, rendering right judgement to the Orphan, and righteousness unto the widow. Besides, ye have Courts for righting Widows and redressing Orphans; where those very Impreze's wrought in their Cushions, cannot choose but be like so many representative Hieroglyphics or useful Memorials of justice, to render to your just complaints and injurious pressures convenient solace. This inestimable inheritance of Chastity is incomparably more to be esteemed, and with greater care preserved by Widows than Wives: albeit, by these neither to be neglected, but highly valued. Out of that ancient experience which time hath taught them, their own observations informed them, and the reverence of their condition put upon them; they are to instruct others in the practice of piety; reclaim others from the paths of folly, and with a virtuous convoy guide them to glory. It would less become them to trick and trim themselves gaudily or gorgeously, then young girls, whose beauty and outward ornament is the hope and anchorhold of their preferment: for by these do they their husbands seek, and hope in time to get what they seek. Whereas, it were much more commendable for widows neither to seek them, nor, being offered, to accept them: lest enforced by necessity, or won by importunacy, or giving way to their frailty, they make exchange of their happy estate for a continuate scene of misery. A widow ought to pray fervently, to exercise works of devotion frequently, that the benefit of her prayer may redound to her effectually and fruitfully; and not return back from the throne of God drily or emptily. For I would (according to Menander's opinion) have a widow not only to demean herself chastely and honestly, but likewise to give examples of her blameless life to such as hear her instructions attentively. For she ought to be as a Glass to young Maids, wherein they may discern their crimes. Now I hold her a chaste Widow, who though she have opportunity to do it, and be suited by importunity unto it, yet will not suffer her breast to harbour an unchaste thought, or consent unto it. In that Country where I was borne (saith Lud. Vives) we usually term such widows the greatest associates and assistants of vices, whose too much delicacy in bringing up their children, makes them ofttimes depraved, and to all inordinate liberty addicted. Wherefore, I approve well of their course, who recommend the care of their children to some discreet and well-disposed person. For such is the too tender affection of mothers towards their children, and so much are they blinded with the love of them, as they think they treat them too roughly, albeit they embrace them never so tenderly. Saint Hierome writing unto Salvina, saith; The chastity of a woman is frail and fading, like a flower quickly perishing and vading, with the least gust or blast of adverse Fortune failing, if not falling: especially, where her age is apt for vice, and the authority of her husband wants to afford her advice; from whose assistance, her honour derives her best succour and supportance. Who, if she have a great family, many things are required of her, and to be found in her, to minister supply to the necessity of time, and use of affairs, wherein she stands interessed. Requisite therefore it were, that she made choice of some one discreetly ripe both in years and inward gifts, by whose honest integrity her family might be better managed, with more diligence attended, and to the woman less occasion of disgrace objected. For I have known very many women, who, albeit they spent their days continually within their own doors, yet have fallen into reproach, either by some persons observing them, or of their own families disposed by them; for suffering their servants go abroad too neatly, arguing thereby a neglect of their family: so as the handmaid's pride brought her Mistress into suspicion of contemning her honour. Which proceeded, as may be probably gathered, from the subtlety of some quick Conceits, imagining that the Maid's knowledge of her Mistress lightness (to purchase her secrecy and connivance) advanced her to such neatness. Sure it is, that an honest woman, who●e fame is her highest prize, requires nothing else, desires nothing else, than to satisfy her husband's bequest, though dead: honouring him with a due Commemoration and admiration of his virtues: for the lives of those that die, consist in the memory of those that live. So did Anthonia the daughter of Marc. Anthony, and wife to Drusus: leading all the remainder of her life with her stepmother, and retaining always the remembrance of her dead husband. The like did Livia, who left both her house and land, that she might dwell under one roof with Noemia: fearing, perhaps, lest the Maids of her family growing too lasciviously wanton and inordinate, might by their lightness prejudice her honour, which she incomparably valued above any treasure. See you not here by our discourse (Gentlewomen) what excellent Lights darted out from those dark times! Estimation was their best portion; nothing of equal prize unto it choicest Virtues were their. Ornaments, which they preserved with such constancy, as fear of death could not deprive them of them, though after death they had scarce the least glimpse of immortality. Thus have we traced over these three Conditions, which we have stored with precepts, strengthened with examples, sweetened with choicest sentences; that this real Estimation, whereof we treat, might be discerned; and that Superficial Esteem, whereon we are now to insist, discovered. MAny desire to appear most to the eye, How Estimation may be discerned to be superficial. what they are least in heart. They have learned artfully to gull the world with appearances; and deceive the time, wherein they are Maskers, with visard's and semblances. These can enforce a smile, to persuade you of their affability; sergeant a blush, to paint out their modesty; walk alone, to express their love to privacy; keep their houses, to publish them provident purveyors for their family; receive strangers, to demonstrate their love to hospitality. Their speech is minced, their pace measured, their whole posture so cunningly composed, as one would imagine them terrestrial Saints at least, whereas they are nothing less than what they most appear. Some you shall observe so demure, as in their Salutes they forbear to express that freedom of Curtsy, which civil custom exacts of them. Those true Trojan Dames, to pacify their incensed husbands, could find a lip to procure them love, and supple their contracted look. Whereas, these civilised Dames, either out of a reservancy of state, or desire to be observed, scorn to be so familiarly demeaned; as if they renounced antiquity, and sought by all means, that such Customs as plead prescription, might be reversed. Their Lip must be their Cheek; which as it retains a better tincture, so many times a sweeter savour. At these, the Poet no less pleasingly than deservedly glanced in this Sonnet: Tell me what is Beauty? Skin; Pure to th' eye, but poor within. What's a kiss of that pure fair? But Love's Lure, or Adonis' snaire. Nectar-balme did Adonis sip Not from Venus' cheek but lip. Why should then Loves beauty seek, To change lip unto her cheek? All which he elegantly clozeth in opposition to himself, with these continuate Stanza's: Cheek shall I check, because I may not taste it? No; Nature rather; who to th' eye so placed it, As none can view it, but he must draw near it; O make the Chart familiar, or else tear it! To puchase improvement of esteem by these means, were to swim against the stream. Discretion cannot approve of that for good, which self opinion or singularity only makes good. These are but Superficial shows, which procure more contempt than repute, more derision than ground of esteem. It is not a civil habit, a demure look, a stayed gate that deserves this report, unless all these be seconded with a resolved soul, and a religious heart. Those who dedicate themselves to the service of virtue, prefer the pith before the rind, substance before appearance. What can be safe, will these say with Lucretius, to any woman, if she prostitute her honour, or make it common? Good women, as they labour to avoid all occasion of scandal, so much more any act that may give breath to scandal. Civil they are in heart and habit; Constant in the profession of virtue. For others, they imitate the Whorish Woman, who wipes her mouth, and saith, Who seeth me? So they carry themselves charily, they care not how little chastely. There is none looks through the Chink to see them, none in presence to hear them; freely therefore may they commit, what shall afterwards shame them. Let me then direct my Speech to these whited walls, who make pretences their best attendants, immaske their Impudence with the Veil of darkness. Tell me, ye deluded daughters, is there any darkness so thick and palpable, that the piercing eye of heaven cannot spy you thorough it? O, if ye hope by sinning secretly to sin securely, you shall be forced to say unto your God, as Ahab saith unto Elijah: Hast thou found me, O mine Enemy? Nay, O God terrible and dreadful, thou hast found me. And then let me ask you in the same terms that the young Gallant in Erasmus asked his wanton Mistress: Are you not ashamed to do that in the sight of God and before his holy Angels, which you are ashamed to do in the sight of men? Sin's may be without danger for a time, but never without fear. Stand then as in the presence of God: redeem the time you have lost; love that which you have hitherto loathed; loath that which you have hitherto loved. Know that these Superficial Complementors, are hypocritical Courtiers; these formal Damazens, professed Courtesans. You must not hold Religion to be mere Compliment. I will not say, but the bleered eye of humane reason may be taken with these; and conceive them real, which are only Superficial: But the Allseeing eye cannot be deceived; he sees not as man seeth. Neither distance of place, nor resemblance of that Object, whereon his eye is fixed, can cause him to mistake. The bowels of the Earth are unto him as the Surface; be it your resolve to compose yourselves, ever as in his presence: considering, how in chastising you he does but justice, and in sparing you he shows his patience. Would you then be Courtiers, graced in the highest Court? Throw away whatsoever is Superficial; and entertain what will make you Divinely real. It is not seeming goodness that will bring you to the fountain of all goodness. The Figtree brought forth leaves, yet because it yielded no fruit, it was cursed. Do ye blossom? So doth every Hypocrite. Do ye bring forth fruits? So doth a Christian. What is it to purchase Estimation on earth, and lose it in heaven? This will sleep in dust, but that never. Your highest task should be how to promote God's honour, and to esteem all things else a slavish and servile labour. Thus by seeming what you are, and really expressing what you seem, you shall purchase that esteem with God and good men, which is real, by shunning ostentation, which would set such a vading gloss on all your actions, as they will seem merely Superficial. A Discreet Commander will take no less care in manning and managing the Fort he hath won, How Estimation may be impregnably preserved. than in winning it. It is a constant maxim; There is no less difficulty in keeping than getting. Some are more able to get a victory, than skilful to use it; Others have more art to use it, than courage to achieve it; few or none so accomplished, as propitiously to win it, and prudently to wear it. We are now to suppose, that you (virtuous Ladies) to whom we address this Labour, are victoriously seated in the Fort of honour, where beauty cannot be planted, but it must be attempted. But so constantly gracious are your resolves, that though it be assaulted, it can never be soiled; attempted but never attainted. This you desire, and to this you hope to aspire. In the Port or entrance of every Castle, City, or Citadel, there useth some Percullas to be in readiness, to frustrate the Enemy's assault, and keep him from entry. The like must you prepare, if you desire to have your honour secured, your daring enemy repelled, and a glorious conquest purchased. And what must this Spiritual Engine be, but a religious Constancy, to resist temptation; and all the better to subdue it, to shun the occasion? I do not admit of any Parleys over your walls; they give new breath to the beleaguer, and ofttimes makes a prey of the beleaguered. If the assault be hot, devotion best fortifies the hold. One Christian aspiration breathes comfort to the besieged, and promiseth relief when she is most straightened. Of all arrows these which are darted by the spirit of zeal, wound the enemy most, and procure the Archer best rest. And that in all assaults whatsoever, plotted or practised by so malicious a Tempter. Lactantius showeth, Lactant. lib. 2. divin. ins●it. cap. 16. that in his days, among many other examples of the weakness of Idolatry, in the presence of Christianity, a silly Servingman that was a Christian, following his Master into a certain Temple of Idols; the gods cried out, That nothing could be well done, as long as that Christian was in presence. E●s●b. l. 5. the prap. Evang. The like recordeth Eusebius of Dioclesian, the Emperor, who going to Apollo for an Oracle; received answer; That the just men w●re the cause that he could say nothing. Which just men Apollo's Priest interpreted to be meant ironically of Christians: and thereupon Dioclesian began his most cruel and fierce persecution in Eusebius days. Sozomines also writeth, that julian th'Apostata endeavouring with many sacrifices and conjurations to draw an answer from Apollo Daphnaus, in a famous place called Daphne, in the Suburbs of Antioch: understood at last by the Oracle, that the bones of S. Babylas the Martyr, that lay near to the place, were the impediment why that god could not speak. And thereupon, julian presently caused the same body to be removed. And finally, hereof it proceeded, that in all sacrifices, conjurations, and other mysteries of the Gentiles, Lucian. in Alex. there was brought in that phrase recorded by scoffing Lucian; Exeant Christiani; Let Christians depart: for that, while they were present, nothing could be well accomplished. Hence collect the force of a Christians presence; it extinguisheth the flame of a Pagan sacrifice. Zealous thoughts, servant desires, devout affections will suffer no diabolical assault to surprise you. Christian constancy will so arm you; pious motions so inflame you; thoughts of heaven so transport you; contempt of the world so wean you; as no object of delight can draw you from contemplating him that made you. It will not be amiss, if now and then you reflect on the constancy and resolution of ancient Heathens, who so highly prized their honour, as it was their highest scorn to give way to an injurious Usurper. Camnia wife to Synattus survives to this day, as a Mirror of feminine constancy; whom one Synoris, a man of greater authority than he, loved; and making no small means to obtain her love, yet all in vain, he supposed the readiest way for the effecting his desires, to be the murdering of her husband: which he performed. This act of horror was no sooner executed, and by the robe of his authority shrouded, than he renewed his suit, to which she seemingly assented: but being solemnly come into the Temple of Diana, for celebrating those Nuptial rites, she had a Potion ready, which she drank to Synoris: wherewith they were both poisoned, to revenge her husband's death. Chiomara, wife of Orgiagon, a petty king of that Province, upon discomfiture of the Gallo-Graecians, being ravished by a Roman Captain, gave a memorable example of Conjugal virtue; for she cut off the fellow's head from his shoulders, and escaping from her guard, L. Flor. lib. 2. cap. 11. brought it to her Lord and husband. More than feminine was the resolution of Epicharia, a Libertine of Rome, who made privy to a conspiracy against Nero, to free her native mother of such a Monster, would not disclose the plotters thereof, though tormented with exquisitest tortures. near resemblance had Leëna's name with her Leonine nature, who being Conspirator against the Tyrant Hyppeas, and nothing aghast at the death of her friends (though torn with extremest torments) would not reveal her partners, but bit in sunder her own tongue, and spit it in the Tyrant's face. Or to instance you in subjects less Tragical, but for constancy every way equal. Armeniae, a noble Lady, being bidden to King Cyrus' wedding, went thither with her husband. At night, when they were returned home; her husband asked her, how she liked the Bridegroom; whether she thought him to be a fair and beautiful Prince or no? Truth, says she, I know not: for all the while I was forth, I cast mine eyes upon no other, but they self. An excellent Commandress was this Lady of her affections: and no less imitable was she, whom we are to instance next; for her modest and bashful covering of her husband's infirmities. One of Hero's enemies reproaching him with a stinking breath; went home and questioned his wife, why she told him not thereof: who answered, She thought all men had the same savour. Without question, there is nothing that adds more true glory to a woman, or better preserves her esteem, then to retain a constancy in the quality or disposition of her estate. Be she young or old, let her fame live ever fresh; and like green Bays, most flourishing, when the winter of adversity is most nipping. Virtue cannot exercise her own strength, nor express her own worth without an Opposite. Spices send forth the sweetest smell, when they are most bruised; and Palms spread the broadest, when they are soarest pressed. Resolution without an assailant, would, in time, become effeminate. Yet, I must tell you, it is dangerous to tempt either youth or age with motives of fancy, or to give least way to a promising opportunity. You shall find secret assacinates enough to undermine you, you need little to become your own betrayers. I have heard of a noble Lady in my time, whose descent and desert equally proclaim her worth, so tender of the esteem of her honour, as she held it scarce safe to receive any Letter from a great Personage, whose reputation was touched by rumour. This was the way to preserve her honour impregnably, and to rear it above the reach of Calumny. Neither are you to be cantelous only of your Estimation in subjects of love and affection: but even in your domestic affairs, which trench upon your providence or expense. Your discretions in these are brought to the Stage. Let not profuseness draw you to spend, where honest providence bids you spare; nor niggardliness cause you to spare, where reputation bids you spend. She deserves not to be governess of an house, who wants discretion to moderate her expense. Let her reflect upon her progeny, intent her charge, and provide for her family. A good wife is compared to a wise Merchant, who brings his traffic from a far. Now, a wise Merchant will not have his Oar in every man's Boat, but will seriously address his care to his own. Busy women would make ill Snails, and worse housewives; stragglers will never become good housekeepers. To close this branch: so compose your affections at home and abroad, as providence may express you care and charge in the one; a grave and reserved reverence preserve your esteem in the other. As your lives are lines of direction to yourselves, so should they be arguments of instruction unto others. Be you planted in what state soever, let your good report be your greatest stake for ever: so may you reap what your virtues have deserved, and keep your Estimation impregnably preserved. NOne can preserve what he loves, How Estimation may be irreparably lost. by mixing it with the society of that he loathes. The Ivye while it winds and wreathes itself about the Plant, with an envious consumption decays the sap. If you be companions to Ostriches, you shall favour of the wilderness. Socrates' called Envy an imposthume of the soul: so may every corrupt affection be properly termed. Vices love neighbourhood, which, like infectious maladies, do ever most hurt, when they draw nearest the heart. There is nothing (Gentlewomen) that brings your Honour to a more desperate hazard, then giving reins to your own desires. These must you subdue to the sovereignty of reason, if you expect rest in your inward mansion. What better fruits than ignominy may carnal liberty produce? When you make the Theatre your chiefest place of repose; fantastic gallants, who never yet conversed with virtue, your choicest consorts; delicious viands, servants to your liquorish appetites; what conclusion may we expect from such dangerous premises? When modesty puts off her veil, and vanity begins to ruffle it in sin; when chaste desires are chased out a breath, and lightness pleads prescription; when vermilion has laid so deep a colour on an impudent skin, as it cannot blush with sense of her own shame; when Estimation becomes a word of Compliment, or carelessly worn like some overcast raiment, valued as painted Pageants do guilded Puppets, only for show? What prodigy fuller of wonder, then to see a woman thus transformed from nature? Her face is not her own, note her complexion; her eye is not her own, note her strayed motion; her habit is not her own, eye her strange fashion. Whilst loose wears imply light works; and thin cobweb covers promise free admittance to all sensual lovers. Yea, which is more, she holds it no shame to glory in sin, nor to court vice in her own livery; all which she maintains to be compliments of gentility. Thus vice is ever in fashion, and keeps her gradation till she aspire to the height of her building. She begins with conceit, seconds it with consent, strengthens it with delight, and incorporates it with custom. One of this rank have I ofttimes observed tracing the streets of this flourishing City; who, as one weary of her sex, forbore not to unwoman herself, by assuming not only a virile habit, but a virago's heart. Quarrels she would not stick to bind upon any freshwater Soldier, whose late induction to the siege of Gallants, had not sufficiently informed him in that posture. Nothing desired she more than to give affronts in public places, which she did with that contempt, as the disgrace she aspersed on others, was her sole content. Places of frequent were her Rendevou; where her imperious tongue run descant on every subject ministered; herself she usually engaged for a Second, upon least occasion offered. Now could these courses any way choose but cause that to be irreparably lost, which by any modest woman should be incomparably loved? Tell me, were not his spirit armour of proof, who durst encounter with so courageous an Amazon? or enter nuptial lists with such a feminine Myrmidon? Surely, these, as they labour to purchase them opinion of esteem, by their unwomanly expressions of valour, so they eclipse their own fame, and by these irregular affronts, detract highly from their essentialst honour. Such may gain them observance, but never esteem. Take heed then, lest public rumour brand you. Scandal is more apt to disperse what is ill; then Opinion is to retain what is good. When the world is once possessed of your shame; many deserving actions of piety can hardly wipe off that stain. Esau's birthright was temporal, yet once lost, many tears could not regain it; your soul's honour is a birthright spiritual, which once lost, many tedious tasks shall not redeem it. Let your estimation be by you so tenderly loved, as you will rather choose to loath life, then irreparably lose that, which is the sweetest Consort of humane life. The absolute end, whereto Estimation aspires, and wherein it cheerfully rests. THere is nothing which works not for some end, wherein it may rest and repose. Long before that glorious Light we now enjoy, did the very Heathens, who had no knowledge of a future being, rejoice highly in the practice of Moral virtues, and performing such commendable offices as might purchase them deserved honour, living; and eternally memorise them dying. This might be illustrated by several instances in Maids, Wives, and Widows. For the first; those Locrian Virgins deserve our memory; whose custom it was, yearly to be sent to Troy: which use continued for the space of a thousand years; yet was it never heard, that any of those Virgins were ever deflowered. Who can likewise pass over in silence those seven Milesian Virgins; who, at such time as the Gauls raved and raged every where, subjecting all to fire and faggot, deprived themselves of life, lest hostile force should deprive them of their honour? With what praises also may we worthily advance those daughters of Scedasus of Leuctra, a Town situate in the Region of Boetia; who having in their father's absence, hospitably received two young men, by whom, made drunk with wine, they were that night deflowered: conceiving a mutual sorrow for their lost Virginity, became resolute actors in their own Tragedy? Aristomenes of Messana, when in those public feasts called Hyacinthia, he had surprised fifteen Virgins, with the soldiers which attempted their dishonour, straightly commanding them to forbear fron● using any such violence: whose Command when they refused to obey, he caused them to be slain; redeeming those Virgins with a huge sum of gold. Afterwards, these Virgins hearing that this Aristomenet was accused about the death of one of those men, whom he had commanded to be slain; they would not return into their own native Country, till such time as, prostrating themselves before the feet of the judge, with their prayers and tears, they had delivered from bonds the defender of their honour. Yea, An English Amazon. to draw nearer home, and instance this Maiden-constancy in one of our own; I have heard of a notable spirited Girl, within the walls of this City; who, albeit she frequented places of public Concourse boldly, discoursed freely, expressed herself in all assays forwardly; yet so tender was she of preserving her honour, that being on a time suited by a young Cavaliero, who was so taken with the height of her spirit, wherewith she was endowed, as he preferred it before the beauty of an amorous face, wherewith she was but meanly enriched. She presently apprehending the looseness of his desires, seemingly condescended: so she might be furnished and appointed, and the business with that secrecy carried, as no occasion of suspicion might be probably grounded. This answer-cheered our young Gallant; winged with hope to enjoy, what his wild desires did so much affect. A Coach is provided; all things prepared; the very place appointed where they shall meet, to hasten their light journey: which, for more privacy, must be the Country. Time and place they observed; but before she would mount her Coach, calling him aside, she tells him, how she had vowed never to consent to any man in that kind, till she had first tried his metal in the field. Draw he must, or she will disgrace him; in which combat, instead of a more amorous Conflict, she disarmed him, and with a kick, wished him ever after to be more wary how he attempted a Maiden's honour. For the second, excellent was the answer of those Lacedaemonian wives; who, being immodestly suited, made this reply: Surely, we should give way to your request, but this you sue for is not in our power to grant: for when we were maids, we were to be disposed of by our parents; and now being wives, by our husbands. At such time as the Inhabitants of Tyre came to Lacedaemon; suspecting them to be Spies, they threw them into prison; whose wives, having got leave to visit and comfort them in their captivity, changed garments with them, and according to their Country's guise, vailed their faces, by which means the men escaped, leaving their wives restrained: Plutarch. which deeply perplexed all the Lacedæmonians. No less conjugal love showed Alcestra to her Admetus; Laodimia to her Protesilaos'; Panthia to her Susius; Artemisia to her Mausolus; Zenobia to her Oedonatus. These were good wives, which Zenophon calls the highest grounds of humane felicity. Nothing being more amiable than an honest woman, saith Theognis; nothing conferring more joy to man, saith sententious Xistus. For the third, what singular mirrors of vidual continency, and matron-like modesty were Cornelia, Vetruria, Livia, and that most Christian widow Salnina, to whom Saint Hierome directed many sweet and comfortable Epistles. These you might have found attired in grave funeral garments, (as memorials of their deceased husbands) of modest behaviour, reverend presence, publishing to the world a contempt of the world, in their outward appearance. Now, what may you suppose did those Pagan Ladies hold to be the absolute end, whereto this tender care of their Estimation chiefly aspired, and wherein it cheerfully rested? It was not riches, nor any such temporal respect: for these they contemned, so their honour might be preserved. No; there was implanted in them an innate desire of Moral goodness; mixed with an honest ambition, ●o to advance their esteem during life, that they might become examples unto others of a good Moral life, and perpetuate their memories after death. Your ambition (Ladies) must mount higher, because your Conversation is heavenlier. It is immortality you aspire to; a lower Orb cannot hold you; nothing else may confine you. Be it then your highest Estimation to honour him, who is the horn of your salvation: The Crown of your hope, the staff of your help, the tower of your defence, the hope of your solace. Let not a moment of deluding vanity, deprive you of the hope of eternity. Your voyage is short; your hazard great. Many difficulties encounter you in the way; address yourselves therefore in the way, to some good work. Let Patience teach you how to suffer, Devotion sweeten your encounter, Estimation crown you with succeeding honour. THE ENGLISH GENTLEWOMAN. Argument. Fancy's is to be with Deliberation grounded; with Constancy retained: Wanton Fancy is a wand'ring frenzy; How it may be checked, if too wild; How cheered, if too cool; An attemperament of both. FANCY. FANCY is an affection privily received in by the Eye, Observ. 6. and speedily conveyed to the Heart. The Eye is the harbinger, but the Heart is the harbourer. Fancy is to be with deliberation grounded. Love conceived at first sight, seldom lasts long. Deliberation must lead it, or else it is misguided. Look before you like, is a good rule; but to like at first Look makes an house of misrule. Is he of handsome personage whom you love? His proportion is a moving Object to your eye, but his portion (it may be) will not agree with your state. Again, admit he have both these; proportion to purchase your esteem, and portion to maintain your estate: his breast is not transparent; his disposition may be crooked; and that will cast down all that was before affected. Themistocles being demanded by a Nobleman of Greece, whether he had rather marry his daughter to one rich and evil, or one poor and good; made this answer: I had rather have a man without money, than money without a man. Whence it was, that Portia, the younger daughter of Portius Cato, being asked when she would betake herself to an husband, replied; When I find one that seeks me, not mine. Witty was that young Gentlewoman's answer to an inconsiderate Suitor: who with much instancy solicited the father for the affection of his daughter; whereto having at last consented, and the Covenants of marriage concluded; this indiscreet wooer unseasonably imparts his mind to the daughter; who made strange with it, saying, She never heard of any such matter: Yea but, replied he, I have made your father herewith acquainted, and be hath already consented: And you may marry him too, answered she, for you must hold me excused. There is no time that exacts more modesty of any woman, than in her time of sniting; a shamefast red than best commends her, and the movingst Orator that speaks for her. Like Venus' silver Dove, she is ever brouzing on the palm of peace; while her cheek betrays her love, more than her tongue. So as Virgil, the very Prince of our Latin Poets, when he should bring in King Latinus privately conferring with his wife Amata, and Turnus, to whom in nuptial bands he was to espouse his daughter: he brings in the young maid weeping, blushing, and silent. Whence is employed, that it becomes not a Maid to speak of marriage in her parent's presence, for that were small argument of modesty or shamefastness. There is a pretty pleasing kind of wooing, drawn from a conceived but concealed Fancy; which, in my opinion, suits well with these amorous younglins: they could wish with all their hearts to be ever in the presence of those they love, so they might not be seen by those they love. Might they choose, they would converse with them freely, consort with them friendly, and impart their truest thoughts fully; yet would they not have their bashful loves find discovery. They would be seen, yet seem obscured; love, but not, disclose it; see whom they love, but not be eyed. This the Poet in the person of a Shepherdess neatly displayeth: Phillis to willows, like a cunning flyer, Flies, yet she fears her Shepherd should not spy her. Now, in this Subject of Fancy, as there is nothing more dangerous than entertaining it without due and deliberate advice: so there is nothing grows more generally fatal to the indiscreet Lover than by grounding affection on outward respects, without relation to that inward fair, which only makes the Object of Fancy full of beauty, and presents every day as a Marriage-day to the party: by performing the office of a princely combiner of beauty and majesty together. Neither affluence of estate, potency of friends, nor highness of descent can attemper the grief of a loathed bed. These may play upon the Fantasy, but never give satisfaction to the Fancy. Wherefore (Gentlewomen) to the end you may show yourselves discreetest in that, which requires your discretion most, discuss with yourselves the purity of love, the quality of your lover; ever reflecting on those best deserving endowments of his, which either make him worthy or unworthy your love. Affection, though it enter in by the narrow cranny of the Eye, it shoots at the heart; which, unless it be seasoned by judgement, it can not deserve so fair a title. A discreet eye will not be taken with a smooth skin; it is not the rind but the mind that is her Adamant. justina a Roman Maid, no less nobly descended, than notably accomplished, being married to one more rich than wise, exclaimed against her fate, that folly should hale her to so loathed a bed. And good reason had she to repine, when his groundless jealousy made her a tragic spectacle of misery before her time. For seeing her white neck, that object begot in him presently an argument of suspect, which he seconded with revenge, to vent the fury of his nature, and publish to the world the weakness of his temper. Let deliberation then be the Scale, wherein you may weigh Love in an equal poise. There be many high and consequent Circumstances, which a discreet woman will not only discourse but discuss, before she entertain so mysterious and honourable estate. Disparity in descent, fortunes, friends, with other like respects, many times beget distraction of minds. Whence it was, that Pittacus of Mitylene, being entreated by a young man, to afford him his best advice, in the Choice of two wives tendered him, whether he should marry; the one whereof was equal to himself both in birth and wealth; the other surpassing him in both; Wished him to go along the streets of the City, where children use to play, and there observe what they did advise him. Truth is, inequality in these, procures distaste; but where there is a difference in the seazure of disposure of the heart, (which should be the firmest and strongest Cement to unite affection) there ariseth the greatest hazard. Thence is it, Suspicion works upon every light and frivolous subject; while the other party hunts after opportunity, to surfeit on forbidden fruit, and give her suspicious Mate just ground of jealousy. Feed he may his indigested humour in a jealous pasture, and vow revenge when he shall find an apt subject, mean time he becomes invisibly gulled, while he deludes himself with painted shadows. — No jealousy can ever that prevent; Whereas two parties once be full content. Several I know, Hieron. cont. Ruffin. are the effects of love, as are the dispositions of those that love. Livia made quick dispatch of her husband, because she loved him too little: Lucilia of hers, because she loved him too much. Phoedra fancied Theseus less than she should, but young Hippolytus more than he would. Which effects are usually produced, when either disparity of years breed dislike; or obscurity of descent begets contempt; or inequality of fortunes, discontent. Deliberate then before you marry, and thus expostulate with yourselves touching his Condition, whom you are to marry" Is he young? I will bear with his youth, till better experience bring him to the knowledge of man. My usage shall be more easy, than to wean him from what he affects, by extremity. Youth will have his swinge; his own discretion will bring him home; at least, time will reclaim him; he shall not find me put on a cloudy brow, or entertain his freer course with a scowl. I must conform myself to him, confirm my love in him, and so demean me towards him, that Conjugal duty mixed with all affability many win him. " Again, Is he old; His age shall beget in me more reverence; his words shall be as so many aged and time-improved precepts to inform me; his actions as so many directions to guide me; his rebukes as so many friendly admonitions to reclaim me; his bed I will honour, no unchaste thought shall defile it; his Counsel I will keep, no foreign breast shall partake it. I will be a staff to him in his age, to support him; an eye to direct him; an hand to help him; his Substance I will not scatter on a youthful Lover: but serve him still, whom I have vowed to honour. " Again, Is he rich? Much good may it do him; this shall not make me proud; my desire shall be, he may employ it for his best advantage; I will move him to communicate unto the needy, that his riches may make him truly happy. It is a miserable state that starves the owner. I will persuade him to enjoy his own, and so avoid baseness; to reserve a provident care for his own, and shun profuseness. " Again, Is he poor? His poverty shall make me rich; there is no want, where there wants no content. This I shall enjoy in him, and with him; which the world could not afford me, lived I without him. It hath been an old Maxim; that as poverty goes in at one door, love goes out at the other; and love without harbour, falls into a cold and aguish distemper: but this rule shall never direct my thoughts; should poverty enthrall me, it shall never appall me; my affection shall counterpoise all affliction: No adversity can divide me from him, to whom my vowed faith hath individually tied me." In a word, Is he wife? He shall be my Thales. Is he foolish? I will by all means cover his weakness: As I am now made one with him, so will I have mine equal share in any aspersion that shall be thrown on him. Thus if you expostulate, your Christian constant resolves shall make you truly fortunate. Your Fancy is on deliberation grounded; which promiseth such success, as your Marriage-dayes shall never fear the bitter encounter of untimely repentance, nor the cureless anguish of an afflicted Conscience. Fancy is to be with constancy retained. THe selfsame rule which Augustus was said to observe in his choice and constant retention of friends, are you, Gentlewomen, to apply to yourselves in the choice of your second-selves. He was slow in entertaining, but most constant in retaining. Favourites are not to be worn like favours: now in your hat, or about your wrist, and presently out of request. Which to prevent, entertain none to lodge near your heart, that may harbour in his breast ought worthy your hate. Those two Mottoes I would have you incessantly to remember; for the useful application of them may highly conduce to your honour. The one is that of Caia Tranquilla, which she ever used to her royal Spouse Caius Tarqvinius Priscus; Where thou art Caius, I am Caia. The other, that of Ruth unto Naomi; Whither thou goest, I will go: and where thou dwellest, I will dwell. There is no greater argument of lightness, then to affect the acquaintance of strangers, and to entertain variety of Suits. These, as they distract the eye, so they infect the heart. Constant you cannot be where you profess, so long as you affect change. Vows deliberately advised, and religiously grounded, are not to be dispensed with. But say, you never vowed: have you made outward professions of love, and entertained a good opinion of that object in your heart? Again, are you resolved, that his affection is real towards you? That his protests, though delivered by his mouth, are engraven in his heart? Let not so much good love be lost; insult not over him whom unfeigned affection hath vowed your servant: Let Wolves and Beasts be cruel in their kinds, But Women meek, and have relenting minds. It were to much incredulity in you to distrust, where you never found just cause of distaste. Yea, but you will again object; We are already by your own Observations sufficiently instructed, that Fancy is to be with deliberation grounded, that love lightly laid on, lasts not long. Should we then affect before we find ground of respect? Should we entertain a Rhetorical Lover, whose protests are formal Compliments, and whose promises are gilded pills, which cover much bitterness? No, I would not have you so credulous, lest your Nuptial day become ominous. Make true trial and experiment of his Constancy, who tenders his service to you. Sift him, if you can find any bran in him. Task him, before you take him. Yet let these be sweetly tempered with lenity; Let them not be Tasks of insuperable difficulty. This were tyrannize, where you should love. This was Omphale's fault to make her faithful servant, a servile slave. Alas! shall he fare the worse because he loves you? This would induce others, who take notice of your cruelty, to loathe you. And make your discarded Lover, surprised with an amorous distemper, to reply, as Absalon to 〈◊〉, Is this thy kindness 〈◊〉 ●hy friend? My counsel is, that, as it will be useful for you to deliberate, before you take so much as the least Notions of an affectionate Servant; yea, and to second that deliberation with some probable proof or trial, that he is truly constant: so it will be a grateful office in you, to retain him in your favour with a gracious respect; to countenance the improvement of his constancy with a cheerful and amiable aspect: to banish all clouds of seeming discontent, and to give him some modest expressions of the increase of your good Conceit towards him. Let this be done, till Hymen make you individually one Then, and never till then, may Love enjoy her full freedom. She stands privileged by a sacred rite to taste that fruit, which before was forbidden. Mutual respects, like so many diametral lines, pointing all to one Centre, are then directed to one exquisite object, the purity of love; which produceth this admirable effect: it makes one soul rule two hearts, and one heart dwell in two bodies. Now, I would have you, when your desires are drawn to this period, to become so taken with the love of your choice, as to interpret whatsoever he shall do, ever to the best sense. It were little enough that you retained a good opinion of him, who stands in so many several engagements obliged for you. Should your riot bring him into debt, his restraint must make you free. Durance must be his suit, while better stuff makes you a Coat. He must content himself with restraint, to give you content: let nothing discontent you more then to entertain him with contempt. Yea, what Conscience is there in it, but he should receive and affable and amiable respect from you; seeing, if your Conscience be no Conformalist, he must pay for you? These respects should perpetually tie you, to honour him, who becomes so legally tied for you. Requite these then with constancy, and retain this ensuing Example ever in your memory. Theogena, wife to Agathocles, showed admirable constancy in her husband's greatest misery, showing herself most his own, when he was relinquished and forsaken of his own; clozing her resolution with this noble Conclusion: She had not only betaken herself to be his Companion in prosperity, but in all fortunes that should befall him. Conform yourselves to this Mirror, and it will reform in you many a dangerous error. Thus if you live, thus if you love; honour cannot choose but accompany you living, much comfort attend you loving, and a virtuous memory embalm you dying. Wanton Fancy is a wand'ring Frenzy. WAnton Love seldom or never promiseth good success; the effect cannot be good, when the object is ill. Sense must be the blind Lantern to guide her, while she rambles in the street: for Reason, she leaves her sleeping with the Constable. What devices she hath to purchase her a moment of penitential pleasure? Her eye looks, and by it the sense of her mind is averted; her ear hears, and by it the intention of her heart is perverted; her smell breathes, and by it her thoughts are hindered; her mouth speaks, and by it others are deceived; by touch, her heat of desire upon every small occasion is stirred. Never raged Alcides on Mount Oeta, nor Orlando for his Angelica, more than these Utopian lovers, for their imaginary shadows. There is a kind of Spider bred in Pulia, called Tar●nd●l●, which being of a divers nature, causeth divers effects; some to dance, some to sing, others to weep, or watch, or sweat. The soveraignest cure it admits of, is Music; while the Patient by dancing, or some other vehement exercise of that sort, expulseth the poison, and gives passage to his pores of respiration. Many like Creatures there be of a malignant nature, but none comparable to a distempered Lover. Now, that we may use the method of Art; to cure the effect, is to take away the cause: my purpose shall be first to discover those incendiaries of foments of this inordinate passion, or intoxicating poison; secondly, the effects arising from them; lastly, the cure or remedy of them. For the first, we may very properly reduce the prime grounds of this wanton fancy, or wand'ring frenzy to a Catalogue included in these two verses: 1 Sloth, 2 Words, 3 Books, 4 Eyes, 5 Consorts, and 6 luscious fare, The lures of lust, and stains of honour are. One every of which particulars to insist, would enlarge this branch too much; we will only point at them and so leave them. For the first, sententious Seneca saith, he had rather endure the utmost of fortune's extremity, than subject himself to Sloth or Sensuality. For it is this only which maketh of men, women; of women, beasts; of beasts, monsters. This then is to be shunned, if the reward of virtue be to be shared. Secondly, Words corrupt the disposition; they set an edge or gloss on depraved Liberty: making that member offend most, when it should be employed in profiting most. The tongue is more effectual than any Letter; let it be then so employed, as it may improve the hearer. Thirdly, Books treating of light subjects, are Nurseries of wantonness: they instruct the loose Reader to become naught; whereas before, touching naughtiness he knew nought. A story of the rape of Ganymedes, or of light Lais in Eurypides, are their daily Lectures. Plato's Divine Philosophy, or Dicearchus pious Precepts of Morality, must veil to Alcaeus, or Anacrons wanton Poesy. Venus and Adonis are unfitting Consorts for a Lady's bosom. Remove them timely from you, if they ever had entertainment by you, lest, like the Snake in the fable, they annoy you. Fourthly, Eyes are those Windows by which death enters; your inward house cannot shine, unless these be shut; Objects they have of more beauty to take them, than these sights of vanity, which miserably taint them. Eve looked on the fruit before she coveted, coveting she tasted, tasting she perished. Thus aspiring to the knowledge of good and evil, became to her and her posterity evil. The Eye is a Living glass, but if we make it a false glass, it will neither represent us truly, nor discover our blemishes freely; but make that seem fair which is odious and ugly. By this means, may good objects become Eyesores unto us, which, if clearly viewed, would like a sovereign Eye-bright, restore sight unto us. Fifthly, Consorts are thiefs of time, they will rob you of opportunity, the best treasure time can afford you, if you suffer them to encroach on you and abuse you. Choose such then for your Consorts, of whom you may have assured hope, that they will either better you, or be bettered by you. Choose such, whom you may admire both when you see them and hear them: when you see their living Doctrine, and hear their wholesome instruction. Lastly, Luscious fare is the fuel of every inordinate concupiscence. Nothing so much feeds it, nor insensates the understanding by delighting in it. By restraint of this, you shall learn to moderate your desires. Whence you may rejoice, yet in him, who is your joy, if you can live sparingly, and embrace the means that may chastise in you all sensuality: for by your spare life is lust extinguished, virtue nourished, the mind strengthened, the understanding to heavenly things raised. Yea, abstinence availeth much for preserving health of body and length of life. Eccles. 37.30 Arist. de reg. Princ. Whence it is said: He that dieteth himself, prolongeth life. Which the profound Stagyrian confirms in these words: To abstain from riot and superfluity, is the sovereignest prescription or physic for the body. Now to descend to the second branch of our division in this Observation; we might here enumerate those many odious and inhuman effects, which have and do daily arise from the violence of this Wanton fancy or Wand'ring frenzy; and what tragic events it hath in all times produced: but they would seem relations too full of horror to your modest and timorous Natures. Only let me tell you, if you desire to be satisfied in subjects of that kind, our Italian Stories will afford you variety: Where indiscreet Love clozeth her doleful Scene with so miserable an Exit, as no Pencil can express any picture to more life, than an historical line hath drawn out the web of their miseries. So as, that ancient Adage might seem verified: That from slaves and miserable people God hath taken away the one half of their understanding. Now, to cure this desperate malady (though to you the cure, I hope, be needless, being free from all such violent distempers;) the best and sovereignest receipt is to fortify the weakness of your sex with strength of resolution; that, with incessant devotion. Be not too liberal in the bestowing of your favours; nor too familiar in public converse. Presume not too much on the strength of a weak Fort. Make a Contract with your eyes not to wander abroad, lest they be catched in coming home. Treat not of love too freely; play not wags with the blind boy; If Cupid then be blind, how blind are ye, That will be caught by one that cannot see? he has a dangerous aim, though he hath no eyes, Sport not with him, that may hurt you; play not with him, that would play on you. Your sports will turn to an ill jest, when you are wounded in earnest: the Fly may be then your Emblem: So long the foolish Fly plays with the flame, Till her light wings are cinged in the same. Fly to an higher Sphere: you are yet untouched; this wand'ring frenzy hath never yet surprised you; prevent the means, and it shall never invade you. Be not such foes to yourselves, as to purchase your own disquiet. Examples you have of all sorts, both to allure and deter you. Pure love admits no stain. Such a fancy is never incident to a frenzy. If ever then you entertain any Love, let it be such as brings with it a virtuous solace; for all others, howsoever they may seem to promise some perfunctory delight, they ever cast up their last account with repentance. How Fancy may be checked, if too wild. WHen a man bleeds at the nose, and through abundance of blood is brought in danger 〈…〉 blood in his arm, to turn the course of the blood another way. If love issue out in too violent a stream, it is to be cooled by a temperate expostulation with Fancy: or else by fixing our eye upon some more attractive object, divert the course of that madding passion. Expostulate with Fancy, thus you may, safely and freely: How is it with me? Me thinks, it fares otherwise then it hath done formerly. A strange distemper I find in my mind; and it might seem to resemble Love, if I knew the nature of it. Love! Can virgin-modesty return that accent, and not blush? Yes; why not? If the Object I affect be worthy loving. And if not, what then? Is not the Lover ever blinded with affection towards his beloved? He, who may seem a Thersites to another, may be a Paris in mine eye. Were he poor as Irus, Fancy makes him dearer to me, than the wealth of Croesus. Yea, but a little advice would do well. Art thou persuaded that this Non-parallell, thou thus affectest, hath dedicated his service only to thee? Yes; his protests have confirmed him mine. Besides, his continual presence seconds what he protests: That hour is tedious, wherein he sees me not; those pleasures odious, which my presence accompanies not. His eye is ever fixed on me; his sole discourse is to me. What I affect he embraceth with delight: what I dis-relish, he entertains with distaste. These, I must confess, (Gentlewoman) are promising arguments of unfeigned love: yet may all these err, and consequently leave you in a miserable Error. Your True-love may prove a jason or a Theseus, and leave you in the briers for all your confidence. You say, his protests have confirmed him yours; he hath attested heaven to bear record of his love. Alas of Credulity! Take heed he play not the part of that ridiculous Actor in Smyrna, who pronouncing, O heaven! pointed with his finger to the ground. Or like that nameless Lover, who soliciting a Gentlewoman's affection with abundance of amorous Rhetoric, concluded with this Emphatical protest; that she was the only Mistress of his thoughts: which conclusion being overheard by one to whom not long before upon like protests he had engaged his faith; she replied, D●● not believe him, Gentlewoman; the selfsame Arbour where you now are, might witness that he hath made the very like protests unto me, many times before. Trials in affairs of this nature have ever a truer touch than protests. It is easy for beauty to extort a vow, or a temporary protest; which many times is as soon forgot as made. Let not these then work on your Credulity. There be, I know (and so all be that are truly generous) who rather than they would infringe their faith, would engage their life. But all are not of that noble temper. Others there be, who can tip their glozing tongues with Rhetorical protests, purposely to gull a credulous Creature, for the purchase of an unlawful pleasure; which obtained, they leave them to bemoan their lost honour. With more safety therefore may you suspect, than too rashly affect. It will not be amiss for you to read him, before you choose him. As thus; Hath his fair carriage got him estimation where he lives? Hath he never enured his tongue to play Hypocrite with his heart; nor made Ceremonial protests to purchase a light Mistress? Hath he kept a fair quarter, and been ever tender of his untainted honour? Hath he never boasted of young Gentlewoman's favours, nor run descant on their kindness? Hath he kept himself on even board with all the world, and preserved his patrimony from engagement? Hath he ever since he vowed himself your servant, solely devoted himself yours, and not immixed his affection with foreign beauties? Choose him, he well deserves your choice; in which choice, let this be your impreze; My choice admits no change. To be short; the blessing which Boaz pronounced upon Ruth, shall like a honey-dew distil daily from the lips of your husband: Blessed be thou of the Lord, my Spouse; thou hast showed more goodness in the latter end, than at thy beginning, in as much as thou followest not young men, were they poor or rich. chose, where you find no such demeriting respects in him, who makes love unto you; Check your wild Fancy by time, lest a remediless Check attend your Choice. Covertly knew that unfortunate Lady how to paint out her grief, the extent whereof her tongue-tied passion could not relate; When like a fruitful vine, she had brought forth many fair and promising branches to a debauched husband, by whose profuser course, her hopes which she had stored in her numerous progeny, perished, and herself through grief irrecoverably wasted; she wrote these pensive lines with a Diamond in her Chamber Window, to give a living shadow to her lasting sorrow. Up to the Window sprung the spreading Vine, The dangling Apricocke, and Eglantine; Since when, that vine and branches too were found, Shred from their root, laid sprawling on the ground. It is not so hard to give comfortable counsel to the sorrowful, as to find a fit season when to give it. I would have you, whose more noble parts promise much comfort to your families, give such attention to seasonable counsel, as you may prevent all ensuing occasions of sorrow. It is the condition of an inconsiderate person, who never foresees his fall, to close the issue of his misfortunes with this improvident conclusion; I would never have thought that this should have thus come to pass; Sen. de Tranq. an. I never dreamed of this Event. It will be more useful and beneficial to you, to check your wild Fancy, if any such seize upon you, than to give way unto it, and consequently undo you. Repentance comes too late at Marriage-night. Affairs of such weight and consequence are not to be entertained without due advice, nor seconded with rashness. In one word; have you played a little too long with the flame? Have you given too free access to your desertless lover? Have you suffered your heart not only to think of him, but with more intimate respect to harbour him? Lodge him no longer in that room; it deserves a far better guest. I will not hear you, if you reply, and say; This is a Task of impossibility. Continuance of time, with discontinuance of his presence, will easily effect it. Mean time, fix your eye upon some more deserving object. Revenge yourself of that Conceit, that shall afresh present him to you. So shall the wildness of your Fancy be checked; your halfe-lost liberty regained; and your affection afterwards planted, where it may be better acquitted; there seated, where it may be more sweetly seasoned. THere be Haggards of that wild Nature, How Fancy may be chee●ed if too cold. as they will by no means be reclaimed; Neither Love nor fear will cause them stoop to any Lure. Emblems these are to such wayward Girls, whose inflexible natures will neither be wooed nor won at any rate. These had rather die for love, than be deemed to love. Their hearts are smeered over with Salamander's oil, and will admit no heat. They may entertain Suitors, but it is with that coldness of affection, as the longer they resort, the lesser is their hope. They may boast more of the multiplicity of their Suitors, than their Suitors can of any probability to be speeders. As it chanced sometime in a Contest betwixt two Maids, who comparing one with the other their descents, friends, and Suitors: Make no comparison with me, replied the one to the other, for I must tell thee, I have more Suitors than thou hast friends; More shameless you (answered the other) unless you mean to set up an house of good fellowship. These unsociable Natures, who many times defer making their choice, till age bring them to contempt, and excludes them from all choice; Or, Danaë-like, live immured in their Chamber, till their Fort be undermined by some golden Pioneer; detract much from the relenting disposition of their Sex. It is their honour to be wooed and won. To be discreet in their choice, and to entertain their choice without Change. Of such I speak, who have not dedicated their days to Virginity, which is such a Condition, as it aspires to an Angelical perfection. Good, (saith venerable Bede) is conjugal chastity, better is vidual continency, but best is the perfection of Virginity. Yea, Virginity exceeds the condition of humane nature, being that, by which man resembles an Angelical Creature. We read likewise, that the Unicorn, when he can be taken by no force nor subtle Engine, will rest and repose in the Lap of a Virgin. To those only I direct my discourse, who have a mind to take themselves unto the world, and to entertain their Lover: but it is with such coolness, as it drives their dispassionate Sweetheart into strange extremes. And this proceeds commonly from an overweening Conceit, which these dainty Damsels have of their own worth: with the apprehension whereof they become so infinitely taken, as they can find none worthy their choice. Of this disdainful opinion was the unhappy Gentlewoman, who after many fair fortunes tendered, Suitors of deserving quality rejected, made her incestuous brother her licentious Lover. A crime detestable even to Barbarians and bruit beasts. Insomuch as it is reported of the Cam●ll, that they usually hoodwink him, when at any time they bring his mother unto him; which act he no sooner knows, than he tramples her under his feet, and kicks her to death with his heels: so hateful is Incest even to bruit beasts, whose native instinct abhors such obscene commixtures. You, whose discreet affections have cast anchor, by making choice of some deserving Lover; afflict him not with needless delays; if he merit your choice, one day is too long to defer him; if undeserving, tax your own indiscretion so rashly to entertain him. Is it bashful modesty that withholds you? I commend it; it well becomes you. Chastity cannot express itself in a fairer Character, then in blushing lines of loving shamefastness. Is it consent of friends that detains you? I approve that too; These rites are best accomplished, when they are with consent and consort of friends solemnised. But if the ground of your delay trench either upon some future expectance of better fortunes; or indifferency of affection in respect of your Choice: the issue cannot possibly prove well, being built upon such weak grounds. For, to insist cursorily upon either of these two; Shall a deceiving hope of preferment dispossess him of your heart, whom personal deserts make worthy of your love? Look to it; Such fortunes cannot purchase you content, which are got with an aged husband's contempt. It shows a servile nature to cashier a faithful Lover, because he is poorer; and to prefer another less desertful, because he is richer. This inconstancy cannot succeed well, because the foundation is grounded ill. Again, are you indifferent or Lukewarm in affection; in respect of your choice? for shames sake what do you make of love? Do you use it like a toy or tire to put off or on as you like? Must it resemble the fashion? This day in request, and next day out of date? This, indeed, is such a cool & easie-tempered Love, as it will never mad you; yet, trust me, it may well delude you. Fancy will not so be played with. You will object, I imagine, your stomaches are too queasy to digest Love. Why then did you ever seem so greedily to feed on that, which your stomaches now cannot well digest? Have you surfeited on the substance? Lay that aside for a while, and bestow your eye on the Picture. Such impressions have sharpened the dull affections of many Lovers. Alexander being much in love with Apelles, as one highly rapt with the exquisiteness of his art, proposed him that Mcdell for a task, which he, of all others, affected most; commanding him on a time to paint Campaspe, a beautiful woman, naked; which Apelles having done, such impression wrought the Picture in his affection, as Apelles fell in love with her; which Alexander perceiving, gave him her. It is incredible, what rare effects were sometimes drawn from a Morian-Picture, being only hung up in a Lady's Chamber. If such impressive motives of affection draw life from a Picture, what may be conceived by the Substance? Oris Apollo writeth that the Egyptians, when they would describe the Heart, and fit her with a proper Emblem, paint the bird Ibis: because they think that no Creature, for proportion of the body, hath so great an heart as the Ibis hath. It is the Bird of love must be the Emblem of your heart. It is neither picture nor posture can content her. Much less these inferior pictures, which we call monies: which are so far from satisfying the affection, as they are only for the Mould or Worldling: whose grosser thoughts never yet aspired to the knowledge of love's definition. As then, the precious stone Diacletes, though it have many rare and excellent sovereignties in it, yet it loseth them all, if it be put in a dead man's mouth: so Love, though it be a subject so pure, as none of a more refined nature; so firm, as none of a more holding temper; so hot, as none of a more lasting fervour: yet becomes her splendour darkened, her vigour weakened, her fervour cooled, when she is in a cold breast entertained. Resemble, rather, the juniper-tree, whose coal is the hottest, and whose shadow is the coolest: be hot in your affection, but cool in your passion. If you find any thing which cooleth love in you, remove it; if any thing which urgeth passion, quench it: chose, feed in you loves heat; but repress in you all passionate hate. Take into your more serious thoughts, a view of his deserts whom you affect: increase the conceit of them by supposing more than he expresseth. The imagination of Love is strong, and works admirable effects in a willing subject. Yet in all this, let no one strayed thought wrong your Maiden-modesty so much, as to suggest to you a strain of lightness. Other Closet-treaties you may entertain safely and freely, without touch of modesty. As to think of the honour of that State, to which you are approaching; the mutual Comfort from that mysterious union arising; how griefs will be attempered by one another's suffering; how joys will be augmented by one another's sharing. These thoughts cannot but well become you; nor otherwise choose than with a pure affection inflame you; nor receive less than free acceptance from you. Thus may that Love, which seemed before to have been as chilled, by these modest motives be cheered. That day no black Cloud should by right sit on your fair brow; no cold damp seize on your heart. You have got one whom a sacred gage hath made yours; with a cheerful requital render yourself his. This cannot choose but highly please the pure eye of heaven, to see that Mystery so sweetly solemnised, which was honoured by Christ, with his first Miracle on Earth. IN this last branch of our Observation, An attemperament o● both. we are to propose an attemperament of both those indisposed Fancies before mentioned, and deservedly taxed. First, the wildness of the one; secondly, the coolness of the other: by seasoning them both with an indifferent temper. In a Vine, wild and luxurious branches are to be pruned, that such as are free and kindly may be better cherished. In the spiritual field of your heart, is never to be expected any fruitful increase of virtues, till there be weeded out of it all the thorns of vices. The difference betwixt a wise and wild Love, is this: the one ever deliberates before it love; the other loves before it deliberate. The first question that she asks, who wisely loves; Is he, who is here recommended to my choice, of good repute? Is he rich in the endowments of his mind? Next question she asks, are of a lower siege: May his personage give content? Are his fortunes such, as may not beget in love a contempt? Thus begins she that loves wisely, with goods inward, and ends with outward; whereas, she that loves wildly, begins with outward, and ends, or else never remembers the inward: Is he, you tender to me, of promising personage? Is he neat in his clothes? Complete in his his dress? Can he Court me in good words? and perfume them with sweet protests? Can he usher me gracefully in the street? and in very pace express a reserved state? Next question she asks, must be near the same verge: Is he rich in Manors? Hath not fortune made him a younger brother? Can he, to buy himself honour, pawn the Long-acre? May his swelling means furnish me of Coach, Caroche, and daily fit me for some Exchange trifles? I have a month's mind to see the man! He cannot but deserve my love. Wherein she says well, for in very deed he could deserve little else. Now as the former, seldom bestows herself, but where she finds content; so the latter, seldom or never, but either she with her Choice, or her Choice with her falls into contempt. The reason is, this wild Girl never cares for more than to be married. If she may but see that day, it accomplisheth her content: though she have but one Comical day all her life. Yea, it is as well as can be expected from her hands, if she attain that style without some apparent soil. Such as these I could wish, to prevent the worst, they were married betime, lest they mar themselves before time. Albeit, moderate restraint, seasonable advice (presupposing some seeds of grace to work on) have wrought singular effects in many of these wilde-ones, who afterwards became grave and modest Matrons. To you then, kind-hearts, am I to recommend some necessary cautions, which carefully observed, may make you wiser than you thought of; and cause you have a tender care of that, which before you had never mind of. Your breasts are unlocked, your tongues untied; you cannot love, but you must show it; nor conceive a kind thought, but you must tell it. The Index of your hearts you carry both in your tongues and eyes; for shame, learn silence in the one, and secrecy in the other. Will you give power to an insulting Lover, to triumph over your weakness; or, which is worse, to work on the opportunity of your lightness? Do not; rather ram up those portells which betray you to your enemy, and prevent his entry by your vigilancy. Keep home and stray not, lest by gadding abroad, you incur Dinahs' fate. You have Consorts of your own sex to pass time withal; their society will teach you to forget, what is better forgot than kept. Let not a strayed thought betray your innocency. Check your madding Fancy, and if it use resistance, curb it with restraint. It will do excellently well, if you forbear to resort to places of public meeting; till you have drawn up and sealed a Covenant with your eyes, to see naught that they may not lawfully covet. These, when they wander, they breed in the heart a dangerous distemper. Lastly, address your employment ever to something that is good; so shall your fantasy find nought to work upon that is ill. This shall afford you more liberty, than the whole world's freedom can afford you. Now to you, Coy ones, whom either coldness of nature hath benumbed, or coyness hath made subtle to dissemble it. You can look and like, and turn another way, where you like most. No object of love can take you, till it overtake you. Be not wise too much. True affection cannot endure such dissimulation. Divide not him, whom you love, into such extremes: you may be modest, and spare a great deal of this Coyness; It is the rule of Charity to do as you would be done to. Now, would it content you to be entertained with disdain, where your deserts merit acceptance? Rectify this then in yourselves, which you would not have done by another to yourselves. It is an ill requital, to recompense fancy with contempt, or constant love with disdain. This were to incur ingratitude, a vice so odious, as no age could find ever aught more uncivilly impious. I do not move you to be too open-hearted; or if so, not too liberally to express it: this were no discovery of fancy, but folly. So conceal and smoothly palliate your love, as your lover may not despair of all hope to obtain your love. Indifferent Curtsies you may show without lightness, and receive them too in lieu of thankfulness. I leave it to your discretion to distinguish times and places; for these may either improve or impair the opportunity of such like Curtsies. Do not immure your beauties, as if a jealousy of your own weakness had necessitated this restraint. There can be no Conquest, where there is no Contest. Converse with love; conceit with yourselves whom you could like. This your cooler temper may admit, and still retain that liberty which is fit. Falconers use many means to make their Hawks sharp; they begin with short flights, till weathring bring them to endure longer. Pygmalion's image received not life in all parts at once; first, it took warmth, after that, vital motion. Is love cool in you? let a kindly warmth heat that coldness. Is Love dull in you? let a lively agility quicken that dulness. Is love coy in you? let a lovely affability supple that coyness: So, in short time, you may have a full relish of love's sweetness. Now we come to the attemperament of these; wherein we are to extract out of grosser metals some pure Oar, which we must refine, before it can give any true beauty to this specious palace of love. Draw near then, and attend to what of necessity you must observe; if ever you mean to deserve HER love, whom you are in Civility bound to serve. In Sicilia there is a fountain called Fons Solis, Pemp. Mela. out of which at Midday, when the Sun is nearest, floweth cold water; at Midnight, when the Sun is farthest off, floweth hot water. This should be the lively Emblem of your state (Gentlewomen:) who, now after those cooler vapours of your frozen affection dispersed, those lumpish and indisposed humours dispelled, and those queasy risings of your seeming coyness dispossessed; have felt that chaste amorous fire burn in you, which will make you of shamefast Maids, modest Matrons. When the heat of passion is at Midday, I mean his full height, with those to whom faith hath engaged you, and love, before the hostage of that faith, confirmed you; then are you to resemble the quality of that fountain, An Explanation of the Emblem. by flowing with cold water of discretion and sweet temper, to allay that heat; lest it weaken those you love, by giving way to passion, which patience cannot choose but loath. Again, when heat is farthest off, and providence begins to labour of a lethargy; when servants remit their care, neglect their charge, and the whole family grow out of order, through the coldness of a remiss Master; resemble then that fountain, by flowing with hot water; win and wean these whom love and loyalty have made yours, with warm conjugal tears, to compassionate their neglected estate, and by timely prevention to avert the fate of improvident husbands. Or thus, Another proper application of this Emblem. if you please, may you make yourselves gracious Emblems of that fountain: Doth the Sun shine at Midday, and in his fullest height on you? Do the beams of prosperity reflect brightly on you? Flow with cold water; alloy this your heat and height of prosperity, with some cooling thoughts of adversity, lest prosperity make you forget both the Author of it, and in the end how to bestow it. Again, doth the Sun shine farthest off you? Doth not one small beameling of prosperous success cheer you? Flow with hot water; vanquish adversity with resolution of temper. Desist not from labour, because fortune seconds not your endeavour. To conclude, as your wild fancy (if you were ever surprised of any) is now rectified; your coolness heatned; your coyness banished; so conform yourselves to them, whom one heart hath made one with you, as no cloud of adversity may look so black, no beam of prosperity shine so clear, wherein you may not with an equal embrace of both estates, bear your share. THE ENGLISH GENTLEWOMAN. Argument. Gentility is derived from our Ancestors to us, but soon blanched, if not revived by us; Virtue the best Coat; A shamefast red, the best colour to deblazon that Coat; Gentility is not known by what we wear, but what we are; There are native seeds of goodness sown in generous bloods by lineal succession; How these may be ripened by instruction. GENTILITY. GENTILITY consists not so much in a lineal deblazon of Arms, Observ. 7. as personal expression of virtues. Gentility is derived from our Ancestors to us, but soon blanched, if not revived by us. Yea, there is no Ornament like virtue, to give true beauty to descent. What is it to be descended great? to retain the privilege of our blood, to be ranked highest in an Herald's book? when our lives cannot add one line to the memorable records of our Ancestors? There should be no day without a line, if we desire to preserve in us the honour of our Line. Those Odours than deserve highest honours, that beautify us living, and preserve our memory dying. Should we call to mind all those our Ancestors, who for so many preceding ages have gone before us; and whose memory now sleeps in the dust; we should, perchance, find in every one of them some eminent quality or other, if a true survey of their deserving actions could be made known unto us; yea, we should understand, that many of them held it their highest grace, to imitate their Predecessors in some excellent virtue; the practice whereof they esteemed more praiseworthy, than the bare title of Gentility. Now, what just reproof might we deserve, if neither those patterns, which our Ancestors had, nor the virtuous examples of our Ancestors themselves, can persuade us to be their followers? Their blood streams through our veins; why should not their virtues shine in our lives? Their mortality we carry about with us; but that which made them immortally happy, we retain not in us. Their Gentility we claim; the privileges they had by it, we retain. Mean time, where is that in us, that may truly Gentilize us, and design us theirs? What a poor thing is it to boast of, that our blood is nobler, our descent higher? Tell me, can any one prescribe before Adam? And what shall he find in that first Ancestor of his, but red clay? The matter whereof he was made, it was no better; nor can we suppose our mortar to be purer. He most emphatically described our Genealogy, who cried, Earth, Earth, Earth: Earth by Creation, Condition, Dissolution. No less fully understood he the quality of his Composition, with the root from whence he took his beginning, who called Earth his Mother; Worms his Brethren and Sisters. His kinsfolks he could not much boast of, they were such inferior Creatures; no Strutters in the street, but despicable Creepers. Let me now reflect upon you, Gentlewomen, whose generous birth should be adorned with virtuous worth, and so make you moving Objects of imitation both in life and death. Are you nobly descended? Ennoble that descent with true desert. Do not think that the privilege of greatness, can be any subterfuge to guiltiness. Your more ascending honour requires more than a Common lustre. In places of public resort you challenge precedency, and it is granted you. Shall the highest place have the least inward grace? No; let not a word fall from you, that may unbeseeme you. Others are silent when you discourse; let it be worth their attention; lest a presumption of your own worth draw you into some frivolous excursion. There is not an accent which you utter, a sentence you deliver, any motion in your carriage or gesture, which others eye not, and eyeing assume not. Your retinue is great; your family gracious; your actions should be the life of the one, and line of direction to the other. To see a light Lady descending from a noble Family, is a Spectacle of more spreading infamy, than any subject of inferior quality. I cannot approve of this Apish kind of formality, which many of our better sort use; it detracts from their descent, to make affectation their Tutoress. They were freeborn; nothing then that is servile can become them. It is nothing to retain the favour or feature of your Ancestors, and to estrange you from that which truly dignified your Ancestors. Virtue's have more living colours, and are seconded with more lasting honours than any outward beauties. You deceive yourselves, if you think that honour received her first life from descent; no, It was demerit that made descent capable of honour. A Pedigree argues your Gentility; but had not some deserving action been, you had never attained to any noble Pedigree. For Gentility is not to be measured by antiquity of time, but precedency in worth. If brackish or troubled water seldom come from a pure Spring; wild and unsavoury fruit from a good tree; whence is it, that noble Predecessors, whose pure blood was never corrupted with any odious stain, should bring forth such degenerating scions? Surely, this generally proceeds from the too much liberty that is granted to our youth; whose inclinations, though otherwise good and equally disposed, are usually by Custom, which becomes a Second nature, miserably depraved. Society they affect, and this infects them; repair to public places they admit, and this corrupts them. Those eminent examples which their Noble Progenitors left them, become buried with them. They comply with the time; Virtue (they say) can hardly subsist, where Vice is in highest request. What though Plato advise them to make choice of the best way of living, which may be easily effected by assiduate use and daily custom: they have learned to invert his rule, by affecting that custom most, which tends to the practice of virtue least. Besides, there is another reason which may be probably alleged, why generous descents become so much corrupted; and virtuous Parents by vicious Children so frequently seconded. Our Nobler women, though in other respects truly imitable, and for their virtuous Conversation admirable, come short in one peculiar duty, which even Nature exacts of them, and which being duly perfom'd, would doubtlessly, no less enable and ennoble them who are descended from them, than any particular, were it never so powerful, that could inform them. These which are mothers by generation, are seldom their Nursing-mothers' by education. No marvel then, if they degenerate, when they partake of the natures of other women. Though their own mother's blood stream through their veins, a stranger's milk must feed them, which makes them participate of their nature, as they are fed with their substance. Wheresoever the Nurse's milk is received, the Nurse's manners are likewise retained. Whence it was, that Chrysippus expressly commanded that the very best and wisest Nurses should be made choice of; that what good blood had infused, might not by ill milk be infected. It was the joint advice both of Plutarch and Phavorine, that a mother should be her children's Nurse: because, commonly, with the milk of the Nurse, they suck the quality or condition of her life. Yea, according to an ancient Decree, women were bound to nurse their own children, and not to have any other women (unless necessity enforced them) to nurse them. Let this then be rectified; ye, whose Noble descents have made you eminent in the eye of the world, and whom God's blessing hath made fruitful Mothers, to bring forth a fair and hopeful increase unto the world; nurse them with your own milk: this will express in you a motherly care to them, and beget in them a greater measure of childlike love to you. Your care, the more it is parental, will exact of them a love more faithful and filial. Nurse them, I say, with the milk of your own breasts to feed them; with the milk of your own lives to inform them. So shall their actions prove them to be your Successors; when they shall not only derive their blood from you, but on this Theatre of humane frailty, shall publish themselves to be true representers of you. For in vain is your blood to them derived, if your memory by their virtues be not revived. Give them then that which may make them yours. Goodness may be blamed, but her succeeding memory can never be blanched. Thus shall you not only show yourselves worthy of that house, from whence you came, but after your period on earth, be received into a more glorious house in time to come. IT is not the Nobility of descent, but of virtues, that makes any one a graceful and acceptable Servitor in the Court of heaven. Houses are distinguished by Coats and Crests; but these are dignified by something else. In Heraldry, those are ever held to be the best Coats, that are deblazoned with least charge. Virtue the best Coat. Consequently, then must virtue needs be the best Coat. She requires the least charge; in her attire, she is not sumptuous; in her fare, delicious; nor in her retinue (the more is the pity) numerous. She confines her desires upon earth within a straight Circumference; a very small portion of that metal will content her. Her desires are only there seated, where they may be satisfied. She sees none so great in the Court, as may deserve her envy; none so rich in the City, as may beget in her an earthly desire; none so reposed in the Country, as to induce her to change her state. She is infinitely happy, in that she aims at no other happiness, than where it is to be found. Ambition may display her Pie-coloured flag; but she will never get virtue to be her follower: Her desires are pitched upon a far more transcendent honour, than these State-corrivals on earth can ere afford her; or by their competition take from her. Pleasure may cast out her Lure, but virtue is so high a flyer, as she scorns to stoop to aught unworthy of her; it pleaseth her to contemplate that on earth, which she is to enjoy in heaven. These feathers in the air, are Objects undeserving her care. Profit may seek to undermine her; but all her policy cannot work on virtue's constancy. Content is her Crown; Contempt of the world, her care; what worldlings seek, she shuns; whence it is, that her beauty, in the darkest Night of adversity, shines. In a word, she is an absolute Commandress of herself; and easy is it to have that Command, where no turbulent passions labour to contend. far otherwise is it with those, who be they never so generously descended, popularly graced, nor powerfully guarded, yet being not adorned with this Crest, distinguished by this Coat, they can neither enjoy freedom within, nor safety without. Lewis, the eleventh had a conceit, which, no doubt, proceeded from his melancholic and indisposed humour, that every thing did stink about him: all the odoriferous perfumes, or fragrant savours they could get, would not ease him, but still he smelled a silthy stink. So fares it with them, whose corrupt hearts, like musty vessels, not throughly seasoned with virtue, send forth no other smell than what is most distasteful to a pure and well-disposed mind. Now, there be many, who make an outward semblance of conscience; and promise to the world apparent arguments of their uprightness; whose inward Cells, like corrupt Charnell-houses, afford nothing but filthiness. Yea, these, to make the world more confident of their sanctity, will not stick to condemn themselves, dis-value their own worth, and rank them amongst the unworthiest that breath on earth. Yet, though they dispraise themselves before others, they cannot endure to be dispraised by others. Whereof we read one excellent example to this purpose: There was a certain woman, who had taken herself to a Cloyster-life, and seemed very devo●t; so as she usually said to her Confessor, who came often unto her, to hear her Confession, and partake of her Devotion: Good father, pray unto the Lord for me; for I am a woman so evil, yea, even so utterly naught, as I much fear lest the Lord punish others for my sins. Upon this, the Priest out of a discreet zeal, desired to try whether there were in her the foundation of true humility or no. Next time therefore, that she uttered the like words unto him, saying; That she was the very worst of all women; the Priest forwith answered: I have often times at many bands heard thus much of thee before this. Whereat she being presently incensed, replied: You lie in your throat: And whosoever hath told you, or reporteth such things of me, are all liars. To attemper which immoderate passion, the Priest humbly returned her this answer: Now I perceive thy pride and hypocrisy; for as much as thou speakest that of thyself, which thou disdainest any other should speak of thee. And this is no sign of true humility, but of inward pride and gross hypocrisy. These dissembled, be they never so assiduate, semblances, are no colours for Virtue's crest, They must be died in grain, or they will not hold. These, who express modesty in their outward carriage, are good examples to those that consort with them; yet if their private Parlour be a witness of their dishonour, they deface the figure of goodness in themselves. Virtue consists not in seeming but performing, nor piety in appearing but practising. What is it to be outwardly retired from the world, and inwardly affianced to the world? How are those women in Turkey affected, that most part of the year come not abroad? Those Italian and Spanish Dames, that are mewed up like Hawks, and locked up by their jealous husbands? This is such an enforced restraint, as it many times begets loose desires in the restrained. It is the prevention of occasion that crownes us. More praiseworthy were those women of Sio, could they confine their actions within the bounds of modesty, than these restrained Libertines. For those Island Women, as they are the beautifullest Dames of all the greeks, so have they more liberty granted by their avaricious husbands, than all the Dames in Greece. For their wife's prostitution is their promotion. So as, when they see any stranger or promising factor arrive, they will presently demand if he would have a Mistress: which, for want of better supply, they mercenarily tender him in the person of their own wives: so willing are they to wear the lasting Badge of infamy, for base lucre or commodity. It is not then an enforced moderation of our affections, that deserves the stile of goodness. We are to enjoy freedom in our desires, and over those a noble Conquest, if we merit the name of virtuous. Come then, Gentlewomen, you see what Coat will honour your House most. Other Coats may be blanched by corruption of blood; or blemished by some other occurrent: but this is so pure as it will admit of no stain. Fantastical and false prophecies may be ominously advanced, published, and dispersed, upon Arms, Fields, Beasts, or Badges, against which our Laws have ordained necessary provisions. But no Augur, Seer or Soothsayer can by any such groundless Divination, detract from the constant beauty or splendour of his Coat. Soveraignizing Saladine, after he had made himself a terror to many potent Princes, by making them his Subjects, who never till then knew what subjection meant; after he had achieved so many prosperous victories, taken in so many flourishing Provinces, and attained the highest degree of an imperial greatness; being surprised by so mortal and fatal a malady, as he despaired of recovery: called his Chieftain or General before him, and bade him haste away to the great City Damascus, and there in the midst of that populous City, to fix his shrouding-sheete upon a Spear, and display it like a banner, with these words; This is all that Sultan Saladine hath left of all his Ensigns! This, the remainder of all his victories! How happy had that Emperor been, if after so many memorable exploits done by him living, so many imperial trophies of his dispersed victories erected by him breathing, he had reserved this Coat to have memorised him dying? Dorcas Coats were brought forth and shown, after she departed. So live, that your best Coats, which are your virtues, may give testimony of you, when Earth shall receive you. Let not your Gentility become blasted with infamy; nor your Noble families labour of that scarcity, as not to give virtue all hospitality. Divinely sung our Modern Poet: To be of generous blood and Parents borne, And have no generous virtues, is a scorn. Let it be your highest scorn, to stoop to any base thought. It is not priority nor precedency of place, but propriety and proficiency in grace that makes an honourable Soul. That Cloth is of most worth that wears best; and that fashion of most esteem that holds longest in request. Virtue is right. Sempiternam for wear; and of that complete fashion, as with Christian women it grows never out of date. Make choice of this stuff then to suit you, of this Coat to gentilize you. All others are but conterseits in comparison of her; whose property it is to honour those that serve her; harbour those that fly for refuge to her; and to reward those who constantly stand in defence of her honour. There is nothing can wound you, being thus armed; nothing ill-beseeme you, being thus adorned; nothing disparage you, being thus honoured: Heraldry finds a Coat for your house, but Virtue finds honour to grace your person. Retain those divine impressions of goodness in you, that may truly ennoble you: display your gentility by such a Coat, as may best distinguish your family; so shall you live and die with honour, and survive their fame, whose only glory it was to enjoy fortunes favour. Painter's are curious in the choice of their colours, lest their Art become blemished through those decayed colours, wherewith their Pictures are portrayed. Some are opinion, that the receipt of Painting or Colouring the substance of glass through, is utterly lost; neither that these late succeeding times can regain, as yet, that mysterious perfection. far more is it to be doubted lest virtue, which we have proved by infallible arguments to be the best Coat, want her true colour, and consequently become deprived of her chief lustre. Some Pictures, I know, will do well in white; yet it is colour that gives them life. Beauty never darts more love to the eye, not with quicker convoy directs it to the heart, then when it displays her guiltless shame in a crimson blush. There is one flower to be loved of women, which is the chiefest flower in all their garden; Nazian. A shamefast red the best Colour to deblazon virtue's Coat. and this is a good red, which is shamefastness. These standing colours are slow wooers to discreet Lovers. Virtue's Coat then is best beblazoned when a shamefast red breaths upon it. Protogenes tables, wherein Baccbus was painted, and all his furious Bacchanals to life displayed, moved King Demetrius to such admiration, during his siege of the City Rhodes, that where he might have consumed the City with fire, and buried the glory thereof in ashes, would not for the preciousness of that table: so as, protracting time by staying to bid them battle, won not the City at all. If a liveless Picture could enforce such affection in a knowing Commander, what effects may we think will a living substance produce? Truth is, there is such sweet and amiable correspondence betwixt virtuous beauty, and shamefast modesty, as the one cannot subsist without the others society. Not a light passage can want the attendance of a blush, whilst modesty is in presence. Yea, though she be not conscious of any conceit, that might beget in her face a shamefast blush; out of a modest Compassion she will not stick to blush, when she observes aught in another deserving blame. Her ears glow at any light report; which, lest they should grow too credulous, she fortifies with reason, to oppose the too easy entrance of suspicion. She partakes of no resemblance less than that of the Chamelon, whose natural property it is to represent all Colours save white. She is a mild and moderate interpreter of others actions; but a serious Censor of her own. Light discourses, which tend rather to the depraving of the Hearer, than ministering any useful subject to an attentive Observer, she excludes; uncivil Compliment she abhors; what only is modest she approves; and seconds her approvement with a graceful smile. She holds an infected mind to be more dangerous than an infected house: such Company she shuns, on whom the rays of virtue seldom or never shine. There is not that Condition, be it never so mean, which she cannot with cheerfulness entertain: so as, she holds outward poverty the best enricher of an inward family. Her desires are so equally poyzed, as she neither seeks more than she enjoys, nor wants freedom to dispose of what she enjoys. Honour she affects, yet with no such eagerness, as to hazard the loss of a dearer honour, for so uncertain a purchase. Friends and favourites she admits, and with that constancy, as it neither reputes her of accepting, nor them of tendering such virtuous fruits of amity. Here you have her, Gentlewomen, who will tell you, and in herself exemplify what she tells you; that modesty is the choicest ornament that can adorn you. Now if you purpose to trace her path, or conform yourselves to her line; you must work on your affections, to embrace what she loves, and reject whatsoever she loathes. Are you conversant at any time with such protesting servants, as make deep Oaths mere Compliments; and whose tongues are witty Orators in running descant on a wanton Tale? These are such Consorts as Modesty would be loath to converse with. She can never endure any of these discourses without an angry blush. Should you delight in these, you should quickly hear her out of a virtuous passion, cry out with the Poet: O Age! most of our women know not now, What ' 'tis to blush, till painting tell them how. Again, should you entertain in your naked bosoms, what some wantoness have too much affected, light amorous Poems; perusing them with no less Content, than if they had been purposely penned to work on your Conceit; this cannot stand with your modesty: These may corrupt you, but never rectify what is wand'ring in you. Suffer not a wanton passage to play on your fantasy. Sin would never enter in upon you, if she found but a preparation of resistance in you. Tell me, what a sweet grace confers it on you, to mix your salutes with modest blushes, and entertain your Suitors with a shamefast bashfulness! Sure I am, where love is discreetly grounded, this cannot choose but be an especial motive to affection. There may be, I grant, such wild lovers, who prefer the loose love of an inconstant Phaedra, before the chaste embraces of a continent Antiope: but their indiscreet choice is ever seconded with a fearful close. Those, who esteem more of a painted cheek, than a native blush, shall find all their imaginary happiness resolved to a painted bliss. It is Modesty and not Beauty which makes the husband happy. Would you then deserve the title of Chaste Virgins, constant Wives, modest Matrons? While you are ranked amongst the first, converse not privately with a wanton thought; send not forth a wand'ring eye to fetch in a Sweetheart. Dis-value not your own worth so much, as to woo others to become your Suitors: This would be a means rather to depress love, than increase it; impair love, than improve it. If you be worthy winning, you cannot choose but be worthy wooing. Mean time, let not a strayed look betray your too forward love; nor a light conceit tax you of deserved reproof. Dye your cheeks with a Rosy blush, when you hear aught that may detract from the modesty of your Sex. Be as silent as the night; your best Rhetoric consists in maiden blushes, and bashful smiles; which will work more powerfully on a Lover's heart, than a Rhetorical tongue, be it never so curiously tipped with Art. For the second rank, you know how strict a duty is imposed on you; now are you not to converse with strange love, or suffer any other person have the least share in your affection. To Court love, or use any Compliment, purposely to win a private favourite, would detract as much from your honour, as for a Soldier to fly from his Captain, and adhere to a stranger. He hath invested you in himself, and engaged himself yours by a sacred vow, which death only may reverse: the dispersed loves which you entertained before, must now be reduced to one, and that but one, by whose mutual choice two are individually made one. A heart divided cannot live; no more can the heat of divided love. You are now so far from entertaining any stranger; as you have vowed with your heart, not to enter so much as any treaty with an unjust intruder. It is dangerous to converse with a professed foe, whose drift it is to undermine you; and such an one is every loose lover, who labours with the licentious art of adulterous Oratory, to deprive you of that inestimable gem, which of all others, most adorns you. For you that are Matrons, ripeness of years hath enjoined you to bid a lasting adieu to the vanities of youth. Now are you set as examples of gravity, for others to imitate. It were dotage in you now to begin to love, when your decay in Nature tells you, it is not long you are to live. You have hitherto performed your parts with a genercus approvement of your actions, fail not in the conclusion. This small remainder of your declining pilgrimage, should be wholly dedicated to the practice of goodness; that your pious end may second your virtuous beginning. The Sun shines ever brighter at his setting than rising; so should your life appear better at your departing than entering. It were incomparably beneficial for you, now in this your Exit, to have your affections seated in heaven, before you depart from earth: leaving some memorable examples of your wel-spent life, which may eternize you after this life. This will make your names flourish; and cause others in a virtuous emulation of your actions, to retain your memory in their lives. To be brief, be you of what Condition soever, either in respect of your age or state; there is nothing can better become you than a modest shamefastness: which consists either in averting your ear from your own praise; or withdrawing your presence from dishonest or uncivil discourse; or rejecting an importunate Suitor, whose too inconsiderate entertainment might question your honour. I have noted in some women a kind of zealous and devout passion, when they chanced but to hear any light or wanton communication; they could not hold but reprove them for their impudence, and amidst their reproof, to adorn the Rosy Circlets of their cheeks with a blushing shamefastness. Surely, this expressed a singular modesty in them; which I would have you (Gentlewomen) in a serious imitation of them, to represent in yourselves. It will happen, many times, that you cannot choose but encounter with some frontless Buffouns, petulant Pasquil's, whose highest strain of obscene wit, is to justify some fabulous story, or repeat an uncivil Tale; which you are to entertain with such disgust, as these odious Relaters may gather by your Countenance, how much you distaste such uncivil discourse. For it is a sweet kind of evincing sin, to discountenance it with a modest shame. Thus shall you make your very frown an ingenuous Index of your uncorrupt heart: and to add one line more unto your Honour, display the Character of your guiltless shame in a Maiden blush, a Virgin-colour. SEverus the Emperor would have majesty preserved by a virtuous disposing of the desire, Gentility is not known by what we wear, but what we are. not by a curious effeminacy in attire. For, as we cannot account him for less than a fool, who prizeth his horse by the faddle, and trappings that hang about him, more than by the worth that is in him: so is he most foolish, who values the man by the worth of his clothes, rather than those inward parts that do accomplish him. How many formal Gallants shall we observe, whose only value consists in putting on their clothes neatly; wearing their Cloaks before them, as if they would forgo them; or bestow them upon some Pander to usher their mushroom Gentility to a house of light Society: with whom, if you should converse, you might easily find Aesop's, painted seuls, fairly promising, O age ● no cover now fit for our mould, But Plush, Shag, Velvet, Tissue, Cloth of Gold. but weakly performing? The greatest Obliquity these can find in our age, is the too careless observance of fashions; which our neat formalists have no great cause to tax for an error, seeing affectation in the choice of fashion is this age's humour. The golden apple was given to the fairest, not the finest; the golden Tripod, neither to the fairest nor finest, but wisest. For might the fairest have obtained it, Alcibiades, being the daintiest and best favoured Boy in all Athens, might by right have challenged it. Again, might the finest have enjoyed it, the Lydian Croesus, being richer in attire than any of his time, might have pleaded for it. Of whom it is said, that Solon of Salamine came to visit him; not to admire him, as simple people did, whose judgements most commonly were placed in their eyes: but to reprove him for his vanity, an apt subject for Philosophy; and wean him from that which threatened ruin to his State. This delicate Prince had that learned Sage no sooner found decked and adorned with the choicest Ornaments, and seated on an high Throne, than he encountered that grave Philosopher with this vain question: demanding of him, Whether he had ever seen a more glorious sight? To whom Solon right gravely answered; Yes, quoth he, I have seen House-cocks, Pheasants, and Peacocks: And these were graced with a natural beauty; whereas yours is but a borrowed glory, which must veil to time, and shake hands, ere it be long, with mortality. To these that fabulous Story of the Persian Prince Crysalus may be properly applied, and personally resembled; who, with his pye-coloured Retainers, presenting themselves at jupiters' marriage like painted fools, became transformed into plumed fowls. Truth is, should we judge of men's worths by their outward wear, or distinguish Gentility by a fashionable attire, we should err more in judgement, than a blind man in his first discovery of colours. What eminent Ladies are recorded in the continuate histories of fame; whose esteem took first breath, not from what they wore, but what they were? It was not their aim to strike a stupid Beholder into admiration with a fantastic habit, nor allure an humorous Lover with a conceited compliment. Calcagninus Apol. marg. Our simple Elders knew not what it was, To set their face, or court a Looking-glass. It was their highest task to correct those errors that were in them: by which means they became so inwardly lovely, as none truly knew them, that could do less than entirely love them. Surely, there is no state that suits so fitly with Gentility, as the low, but loyal attendance of humility. Aug. This is she, who (as she is rightly defined) is the Princess of virtues, the conqueress of vices, the mirror of virginity, the choicest harbour or repose for the blessed trinity. She considers, how he, by whom our corrupt blood was restored, our unvaluable losses repaired, and our primitive nakedness compassionately covered, was not with a Diadem crowned, nor in a stately bed couched; yea, scarcely rather with one poor coat covered: which he wore not as an ornament to his body, to bestow on it trimness, but for necessity to cover his nakedness. What a poverty is it then for you, whose ancient descent promiseth something extraordinary in you, to have nothing to boast of, save only a gilded outside? It was Necessity that invented clothes for you; now were it fit to pride you in that, which deprived you of your prime beauty? You shall observe in many of our grave Matrons, with what indifferency they attire themselves. Their inward ornaments are their chiefest care; their renewing and repairing of them, their highest cure. They have found such choice flowers, as they afford more spiritual delight to the soul, than any visible flowers or odours do to the smell. And what are these, but divine and moral precepts, sovereign instructions; which have taught them how to contemn earth, conquer death, and aspire unto eternity? These by a continued custom or frequent converse with heavenly things, cannot now conceive any object to be worthy their beholding on earth. Fashions may be worn about them, but little observed by them. The WEDDING GARMENT is their desired raiment. This they make ready for the Nuptial day; the meditation whereof so transports them, as nothing below heaven can possess them. It is not beauty which they prise; for they daily and duly consider the Prophet's words; joel. 1. All faces shall gather blackness. Again, they remember the threats which God denounceth upon beautiful, but sinful Niniveh, Nahum. 3. I will discover thy skirts upon thy face. This makes them seriously to consider the dangerous quality of sin, and to apply Ninivehs salve to their sore: that wine of Angels, the tears of repentance. Which, howsoever it is, as one wittily observes, Every man's medicine; an universal Antidote, that makes many a Mithridates venture on poison: yet works it not this baneful effect with these; for their affections are so sweetly tempered, their hearts so truly tendered, as they make not Repentance security to delinquents: They well remember that Aphorism of spiritual Physic: As he that sins in hope of remission, feeds distemperature to seek a Physician; so he that reputes with a purpose of sinning, shall find an eternal place to repent in. These, who thus belull themselves in the downe-beds of security, labour of an irreparable Lethargy. They make bold to sin, as if they were sure to repent. But the medicine was made for the wound, not the wound for the medicine. We must not suffer ourselves voluntarily to be wounded, in hope we have to be cured: but prevent the means, that we may attain a more glorious end. The choicest receipt, the chiefest antidote than is to prevent the means or occasion of sin; which if at any time we commit, to infuse the balm of repentance into it; which seasonably applied, may minister a sovereign salve to our sore, so we intent our care to so consequent a cure. Come then, Gentlewomen, begin now at last to reflect on your own worth. Understand, that Gentility is not known by what you wear, but what you are. Bern. Consider, in what member soever your Creator is most offended, in that shall every sinner be most tormented. Remember, how the time shall come (and then shall your time be no time) when the Moth shall be your underlining, and the Worm your covering. Trimm● yourselves then with an inward beauty; that a glorious Bridegroom may receive you. Fashion yourselves to his image, whom you represent. That Fashion only, will extend the date of time, and crown you with immortality after time. These, who have their judgements in their eyes, may admire you for your clothes; but those, who have their eyes in their heads, will only prise you by your inward worth. Were it not a poor Ensign of Gentility, to hang up a fantastic fashion to memorise your vanity after death? So live, that you may ever live in the memory of the good. It will not redound much to your honour, to have observed the fashions of the time, but to have redeemed your time; to have dedicated yourselves to the practice of virtue all your time; to have been Mirrors of modesty to your succeeding sex; to have disvalue the fruitless flourish of fading vanity, for the promising hopes of a blessed eternity. O Eternity, eternity! let this ever emphatically sound in your memory; Supply then that in you, which bleered judgements expect without you. You challenge precedency in place, express yourselves worthy of that place. Virtue will make you far more honoured, than any garish habit can make you admired. The one is a Spectacle of derision, the other of true and generous approbation. This you shall do, if you season your desires with discretion; if you temper your excursive thoughts, and bring them home with a serious meditation of your approaching dissolution. It is said of the Palm tree, that when it grows dry and fruitless, they use to apply ashes to the root of it, and it forthwith recovers: that the peaceful Palms of your virtuous minds may flourish ever; that their branches may ever blossom and never wither; apply unto their roots the ashes of mortification; renew them with some sweet and sovereign meditation. That when you shall return to your mother Earth, those that succeed you may collect how you lived while you were on Earth: by making these living actions of your Gentility, happy Precursors to your state of glory. These are native seeds of goodness sown in generous bloods by lineal succession. Fountains are best distinguished by their waters, Trees by their fruits, and Generous bloods by their actions. There are inbred seeds of goodness (saith the Philosopher) in every good man: and these will find time to express themselves. It was David's testimony of himself: From my youth up have I loved thy Law. An excellent prerogative given him, and with no less diligence improved by him. Now these Native seeds, as they are different, so are the fruits which come of them, variously disposed. Some have a relish of true and generous bounty; wherein they show that noble freedom to their own, in their liberality towards others: as their very actions declare unto the world, their command and sovereignty over the things of this world. Others discover their noble disposition, by their notable pity and compassion; These will estrange themselves from no man's misery. If they cannot succour him, they will suffer with him. Their bosoms are ever open with pitiful Zenocrates, to receive a distressed one. Over a vanquished foe they scorn to insult; or upon a dejected one to triumph. They have tears to partake with the afflicted; and real expressions of joy to share with the relieved. Others show apparent arguments of their singular moderation; abstemious are these in their dishes; temperate in their Companies; moderate in their desires. These wonder at the rioters of this time; how they consume their days in sensuality and uncleanness Their account is far more strait; their expense more straight; but their liberty of mind of an higher strain. clothes they wear, but with that decency, as curiosity cannot tax them; meats they partake, but with that temperance, as delicacy cannot tempt them. Others from their Cradle, become brave sparks of valour; their very Childhood promiseth undoubted tokens of succeeding honour. These cannot endure braves nor affronts. Generous resolution hath stamped such deep impressions in their heroic minds, as fame is their aim; which they hunt after, with such constancy of spirit, as danger can neither amate them, nor difficulty avert them from their resolves. Others are endued with a natural pregnancy of wit; to whom no occasion is sooner offered, than some dainty expression must second it. Others with more solidity of judgement, though of less present conceit. And these are such, as generally employ themselves in State-affairs; wherein Experience, purchased by an useful expense, of time, doth so ripen them, as the Public State takes notice of them, and recompenseth their care with honours conferred on them. These and many other excellent endowments shall we observed to be lineally derived from Ancestors to their Successors; which, as they retain a near resemblance of their persons, so they represent their Actions: so powerful is nature in bestowing her distinct Offices on every creature, wherein they generally partake of their disposition as well as outward feature: whence the Poet; Stout men and good are sprung from stout and good, Horses and steers retain their parent's blood. Yet see the iniquity of time! It fareth ofttimes with those who are endowed with these virtues, to be most traduced, where their more noble and eminent parts are to be highliest honoured. Which, as it was a main error in former ages, so descends it to these present times. When Rome was in her glory, this eclipsed her light, by detracting from their demerits most, whose free-bred virtues deserved of their Country best. Sundry Families she had, famous for their virtues, which by a depraved and misinterpreting Censure, became branded with undeserved aspersions. If the Piso's were frugal, they were held parsimonious; if the Metelli devout, they were superstitious; if the Appii strict, they were rigorous; if the Manliis affable, they were ambitious; the Laeliis, if wise, they were dangerous; the Publicolae, popular, by being courteous. But with good and well-disposed persons, virtue is never out of favour, though it be never so much impeached by a traducing censure. Thus you have heard, Gentlewomen, what virtues have lineally and by blood descended from Parents to their Children; what especial inward graces usually attend some especial families, which no less memorise them, than those native honours which are conferred on them. Now, to select such as sort best with your sex and condition; in my opinion there is none that ennobles you higher, or makes you more gracious in the eye of the beholder than Modesty, which was the greatest advancer of many Roman families. This is that virtue, which expresseth you to be women; this is that, which makes you honoured amongst women. Chains and Carcanets, jewels and Habiliments may be valued; but this Ornament is of that high estimate, as it is not to be prized. Now, there is nothing that will cause this to appear more precious unto you, next to the testimony of a good Conscience within you, with an ardent desire of promoting his glory who made you, than a reflection to your Family which bred you; whose honour to preserve, as it is your especial duty, so no object of profit or pleasure, no attractive Lure of deceiving honour should remove this opinion from you: To be high borne and basely minded, is to engraff bastard slips in a noble stock. Branches of a crooked and inflexible quality, highly degenerate from true Gentility. High and heroic virtues become great houses. For, as they were first made great by being good, so should they by surceasing from being good, lose their title of being great. If by abusing the liberty of time, you detract from your Ancestors fame, you lie a blemish on his shrine; which, though it touch not him, yet it taints you who represent him. This, no doubt, was that Noble Lady right mindful of, when on a time being solicited by a powerful Suitor, who wooed her first in person, and after in a wanton Rhetorical Letter; she, as one tender of her honour, and perceiving that the scope of his suit tended to her dishonour, answered his fruitless sollicitancy in this sort, with great modesty: Should I condescend to your Suit, I should not only derogate from the honour of my present state, dis-value that which I hold most dear, make myself a subject of contempt to every ear, but asperse that infamy on my family, which would bear record of my inconstancy. O what would the next age report of me, that I should so far degenerate from those that bred me? No; poverty may enter in at my gate, but dishonour shall never lodge in mine heart. Reserve these promises of honour for such, as prise them above their honour: That generous blood which distreames through my veins, shall sooner be dried, than it shall be for any hope of advancement ingloriously stained. Such singular resolves many of our Albion Ladies, questionless, even at this day retain; who, rather than they would incur the least dishonour, or occasion suspicion by their too free entertain of light Suitors, would confine themselves to their Chambers, and debar themselves of public recourse. Seeing then, that there are native Seeds of goodness sown in generous bloods by lineal succession; which even in their first infancy give fair promises of their inward beauty; express yourselves Daughters worthy such virtuous Mothers. Emulation of goodness in great persons is honourable. Their Pictures you hang up, that their memories may live with you. Enjoy their virtues too, and their memories shall live fresher in you. All memorials, being materials, be they never so durable, are subject to frailty; only these precious monuments of your virtues survive time, and breath eternity. You spring from a noble Seminary; let those seeds of goodness which are sown in your youth, come to that ripeness in your age, that as in piety you imitated others, so you may become Precedents unto others; as you were here seasoned with grace, a good report may follow you to your grave. All which by instruction only may be effected, as in our next branch shall be more pregnantly proved. HE cannot choose but live well, who conforms himself to that he hears. How these native seeds of goodness may be ripened by instruction. Good instructors are such faithful Monitors, as they will advise what is most fitting, not what is best pleasing. And these are to be entertained with such endeared respect, as their speeches, be they never so tart, should not incense us, nor their reproofs, be they never so free, distaste us. Though Clitus open rebukes cost him his life, his free and friendly reproof expressed his love; so as Alexander could never sufficiently bemoan his loss. Those Native seeds of goodness, whereof we formerly treated, be they in our infancy never so plentifully diffused, yet in time they would grow rank and wild, unless they were by seasonable instruction ripened. Now, Gentlewomen, there be no Tutresses fitter to perfect this excellent work in you, than those who were the secondary instruments of being unto you; Neither can those, who are derived from you, become better instructed than by you. Your love, I confess, will be more indulgent, yet your care so much the more incessant. Their dispositions are best known unto you; if motherly affection than will give way to discretion, who more fit to mould them than you? Preceding times may afford you variety of examples in this kind. Cornelia instructed hers in all piety; Portia she in exemplary grounds of chastity; Sulpitia she in precepts of conjugal unity; Edesia she in learning and morality; Paulina she in memorials of shamefast modesty. These, though Heathens, were excellent informers of youth; so as their Children were more bound to them for their breeding than bearing, nurturing than nursing. Besides, there is an inbred filial fear in Children to their Parents, which will beget in them more attention in hearing, and retention in holding what they hear. Now, there is no instruction more moving, Greg. in 38. Eva●g. than the example of your living. By that Line of yours, are they to conform their own. Take heed then, lest by the damp of your life, you darken both their glory and your own. I might propose unto you books of instruction, which might minister arguments plenteously in this kind: but so short is the memory in retaining what it reads, yea so distracted is the mind in observing what it reads, that, as it fares with our natural face in a glass, from which the glass is no sooner removed, than the resemblance of it is abolished; even so, the book is no sooner left out of the hand, than the Contents are leapt out of the heart. Yet, to the end you may not be unprovided of such Tracts as may enable you for instruction, and prepare you to encounter with tentation; I will recount such unto you, as may best accommodate you for the one, and fortify you against the other. A brief enumeration, serious dicussion, and judicious election of sundry ancient fathers with other moral Authors. Learned Vives in his instruction of a Christian woman, recommends unto them these glorious Lights of the Church, S. Hierom, Cyprian, Augustine, Ambrose, Hilary, Gregory; annexing unto them those moral Philosophers, Plato, Cicero, Seneca, etc. Of which, severally to deliver my opinion, it is this: Than S. Hierom none more gravely copious, as may appear by those pithy and effectual Epistles of his, directed to those noble Ladies, Marcelia, Demetria, Laeta, Furia, etc. wherein he useth singular exhortations, invincible arguments, persuasive reasons, sweet similitudes, and forcive examples. Modesty is the subject he commends unto them; decency in apparel he approves in them; to a moderate restraint of liberty he enjoins them; to an exemplary holiness he exhorts them; and with sweet and comfortable promises of an incorruptible reward he leaves them. Than S. Cyprian, none more devoutly serverous; in his reproofs he shows mildness; in his treaties a passionate sweetness; he wins the sinner by inducing reasons; he strengthens the soul mightily against temptations; he proposeth an excellent way of moderating the affections; he applies sovereign receipts to soveraignizing passions: and concludes with that sober and discreet temper, as with a Divine insinuation he woos, wins, and weanes the sinner, and in a spiritual tye unites him to his Redeemer. Than S. Augustine, none more profoundly judicious, more judiciously zealous; pithy are his directions, powerful his instructions: in his Meditations he is moving; in his Soliloquies inwardly piercing; in his Manual comfortably clozing. Amongst all those Conflicts in our Christian warfare, he holds none sharper than our Combat with Chastity. He applies means how we may resist, resisting vanquish; and by our Christian victory, receive Crowns of eternal glory. That Conquest, he holds, deserves small honour, which is achieved without Encounter. In a Divine rhapsody drawn, as it were, from himself, he shows what should be done by us. Earth is no object fit to entertain our eye; nor her deluding melody our ear: He exhorts us therefore to leave Earth now while we live, that leaving Earth for altogether, we may enjoy our best Love. Than S. Ambrose, none more Divinely plenteous; sweetly serious are his instructions; enforcing are his reasons: he speaks home to the sinner; whom he no sooner finds wounded for sin, than he applies a Spiritual salve to cure his sin. Many grave sentences are in his Offices methodically couched; singular directions to guide every Christian in his Spiritual Pathway, are there delivered. Like an expert Physician, he first gathers the nature or quality of your distemper, and then ministers soule-salving receipts to restore you to your right temper. He shows you how in your very motion, gesture, and place you are to observe modesty: concluding that nothing can afford true comfort to a sojourning soul, but practise of piety. Than S. Hilary, none more fully sententious; he discovers the occasion of our corruption familiarly; adviseth us with many passionate and tear-swollen lines to provide for our inward family; he proposeth us a reward, if we contemn Earth; he threatens us with the Law, if we contemn life. Sundry moving and effectual Lessons he recommends to the perusal of women of all ranks, ages, and conditions. Tenderly he compassionates the case of a sinner; passionately treats he of those torments which shall last for ever: with prayers and tears he solicits them that have gone astray, to return; those that are already returned, to go no more astray. He concludes with an useful Exhortation to sorrow for sin, promising them, forth of that Storehouse of Comforts, contained in the Gospel, for this their momentaine sorrow, an incessant joy in Zion. Than S. Gregory, none more highly mysterious, nor contemplatively glorious; Divinely moral are his Morals; full of heavenly comforts are his instructions; he walks in an higher way than others trace, yet with that humility, as there is not a close from him, but it discloseth in him a love of meekness, lowliness, and piety. With proper and elegant similitudes are his works adorned; with choice sentences, as with so many select flowers, neatly garnished; in a word, he is sweetly substantial, and substantially sweet. He reprehends the times gravely; commends the practice of virtue gracefully. With an holy zeal he reproves the remissness of the Ministry. Directions he gives unto women, to have an especial care of modesty: concluding, that the love of this life should not so possess us, as to deprive us of that inheritance which might eternally bless us. In good minds he holds poverty the portresse of humility: accounting those Evils or Adversities, which do here press us, to be the Cords which draw us unto God who made us. Touching those three Philosophers, this is my conceit of them; wherein none can otherwise choose than concur with me, that shall seriously read, and sincerely scan them: Than Plato, none more divinely Philosophical; Than Cicero, more philosophically Rhetorical; Than Seneca, more sagely Moral. But for as much as it is not given to most of you to be Linguists, albeit many of their works be translated in your mother tongue, you may converse with sundry English Authors, whose excellent instructions will sufficiently store you in all points; and, if usefully applied, confer no small benefit to your understanding. I shall not need particularly to name them to you, because I doubt not, but you have made choice of such faithful Retainers and virtuous Bosome-friends, constantly to accompany you. Neither, indeed, are books only necessary; conference will singularly improve your knowledge; but that is not altogether so convenient nor decent for your sex in public places. So as, I much condemn their opinion, who hold no means so fitting to bring their daughters to audacity, as a frequent consort with Company. This, in time, begets in them rather impudence than boldness. It was held a touch to a Maid to be seen talking with any one in a public place. But in private Nurseries, which may be properly termed your household Academies, it will suit well with your honours to treat and enter into Conference one with another; or in such places, where your own sex is only conversant. For such indiscreet Mothers, who usually trim and deck their daughters, to send them forth to Shows, Meetings, or Interludes, they anoint havin with oil, that it may burn the better. But much more blame-worthy be those, who take them along to Taverns and gossipings; which Education a little time will bring into custom, and make modesty a stranger to herself. For above all things (saith the Philosopher) ought young Girls to be kept from Ebriety: Arist●t. Pol. 7. which he confirms with this reason: It is good, saith he, for young men and maids to be kept from wine, lest such become afterwards protest drunkards, profuse rioters, and prodigal exposers of their honour: the main occasion whereof, are their parents, by means of their ill instruction, and worse example. It is the very first instruction that takes the deepest impression; how necessary then is it for you, Gentlewomen, whose sex is the Emblem of weakness, and whose best resolves are ofttimes weakened by youthful promises, to furnish your blooming youth with wholesome instructions: and so to improve them, that they may increase in vigour, as you do in stature? This your sex exacts of you; this your present estate requires of you; and this shall easily be effected by you, if having (as is to be presupposed) discreet and religious Mothers, you submit yourselves in all humble obedience to their direction. For as it is very hard for any one to know how to command, unless she know first how to obey; so will it be unto you to perform the office of a Mother, if you never knew the duty of a daughter. Strict and severe may those Commands seem to your youth, which riper age will easily digest. Again, you that are Mothers, become patterns of modesty unto your daughters. Your living actions are the lines of their direction. While they are under your command, the error is yours, not theirs, if they go astray. Their honour should be one of the principal'st things you are to tender; neither can it be blemished, without some touch to your Credit. I have known some inconsiderate mothers, and those none of the lowest rank or quality, who, either out of a confidence they had of their daughters good carriage, or drawn with the hopes of some rich Suitors to advance their marriage, have usually given too free way to opportunity, which brought upon their daughter's names a spreading infamy. Your instructions will do well with them, till society deprave them: divert then the occasion, so shall your daughters, be they never so poor, have good, portions of reputation. Suffer not then those who partake of your image, to lose their best beauty. Sigh then if they be soiled, for their shame must be on you aspersed. Grace is a pure balm, and consequently requires a pure and sound vessel. In vain is it infused, if the vessel be not whole and found to preserve it. It must be pure, that what is infused into it, be not polluted; it must be sound, that what is poured into it, be not effused, and it must be deep, that it may be more capacious in receiving of what is infused into it. Look then to your own actions; these must inform them; Look to your own examples, these must confirm them. Without you they cannot perish; with you they may. What will you do with the rest that is left, when you see a part of yourself lost? The Harpy hath the face of a man, but a Bird so cruel by nature, as when she is an hungry, she will assault any man and kill him: After which bloody repast, she becomes thirsty, so as, going to the River to quench it, she sees her own face; and recalling to mind how it resembles him whom she flew, she conceives such grief, as she dies therewith. If your Education or instruction deprave those who derive their beginning from you, the resemblance of this story may have proper relation unto you. But if your pious examples enable them, their proficiency in virtue shall ennoble you; your comforts shall be multiplied in them; your hopes seconded by them; and, to your everliving fames, the memory of your virtues preserved by them. Let not that adage prove true, in respect of your Charge: The most precious things have ever the most pernicious Keepers. Nothing more precious than a Virgin's honour; it were shame for the mother to prove a Tarpeian or treacherous keeper. That Conceit was elegantly expressed by the Emperor Charles the fifth, in his instructions to the King his son; That Fortune had somewhat of the nature of a woman; that if she be too much wooed, she is the farther off. But I hope I shall not find that averseness in you. I have wooed you in words; express yourselves won by the testimony of your works. I would not follow the indiscretion of Empirics, which minister the same medicines to all Patients; I know well, that such Physic as agrees with age, would not agree with the hot constitution of youth: To either sort therefore have I applied my several receipts: and to both, do I address my conclusion. Let the whole progress of your Conversation be a continued Line of instruction; Let the mother discharge her office in commanding, and that without too much rigour or indulgence; Let the daughter perform her duty in obeying, with all faithful and filial observance: So shall honour grace you here, and glory crown you there with an heavenly inheritance. THE ENGLISH GENTLEWOMAN. Argument. Honour is painted, when it is not with virtue powdered; No cloth takes such deep tincture, as the cloth of honour; Honourable personages should be precedents of goodness; Virtue or vice, weather soever takes hold first, retains a deeper impression in honour, than any lower subject; That, virtue may receive the first impression by means of an inbred noble disposition, seconded by helps of Education; Which reduced to habit, aspires to perfection. HONOUR. Promotion's discovers what men be, Observ. 8. but true Honour shows what they should be. That is fed with a desire of being great; this is inflamed with a noble emulation of being good. It is a miserable thing to observe what brave and heroic Spirits, whose resolutions neither danger could amate, nor any disaster perplex, have been madded with an ambitious quest after Honour; what difficulties they encountered; what oppositions they suffered; what intricate passages and provinces they entertained! Corrivals they could not want in their rising; nor Envyers of their greatness in their settling; nor Spectators to rejoice at their setting. Rough and menacing was the Sea, on which they sailed; dangerous and sheluy the ways, by which they passed; yea, full of disquiets was the Port, at which they arrived. Nay, which is worse, in what sinister and indiscreet paths would they walk; upon what strange plots and projectments would they work; how discontentedly and disconsolately, with Themistocles, would they walk, till they attained their end; which, many times, brought them to an untimely end? So quickly is poor man deluded with this shady picture of greatness, as he will not stick to engage for it his hopes of quietness. Honour is painted, when it is not with virtue powdered. But these be not those Eminent Personages, of whom I am now to treat: for such men's honour is merely painted, because it is not with virtue powdered. Moral Philosophy, much more our Christian theory, could never hold that for deserving greatness, which had not near relation to goodness. Those only they esteemed worthy honour, who did not seek it, much less buy it, but were sought by it. Such as knew not what it was to admire the purple, nor fawn on a rising favourite; but intervened their actions with the precious Oar of Divinest virtues. Such as had attained to a singular Command or sovereignty of their affections: so as they had learned to say, as Chilo answered his brother, We know how to suffer injuries; so do not these fiery and furious spirits. It is a poor expression of greatness, to exercise it in revenge; or in triumphing over inferiors; or countenancing unjust actions. These detract from honour; neither can their memory live long, who makes authority a Sanctuary to wrong. Know then, (noble Gentlewomen) that your Honour, be it never so eminent; your Descent, be it never so ancient; lose both their beauty and antiquity, if virtue have not in you a peculiar sovereignty. Be your wanton fancy painted and trimmed in never so demure or hypocritical disguise; Be your ambition or Courtly aspiring never so shrouded with gilded shadows of humility; Be your unbounded desire of revenge never so smoothly coloured with the seeming remission of an impressive injury: In a word, should you never walk so covertly in a Cloud; nor never so cunningly with a dainty kind of dissembling gull the world; all this will not avail you. When your bodies shall come to be shrouded, then shall all your actions be uncased. Rumour then will I take more liberty to discover unto the world, what you did in it. Show me that deepest dissembler, who retired himself most from the knowledge of man, and came not to discovery, for all his secrecy, to the eyes of man. Many you have known and heard of that were great, but failing in being good, were their pretences never so specious, did not their memory rot? jezabel was more eminent in titles than Abigal; but less glorious in her fame. Such a poor piece of painted stuff is that adulterate honour, which from virtue receives not her full lustre. When the subtle Spider shall wove her curious web over your Monuments; when those beauteous structures of yours shall he dissolved; when all your titular glory shall be obscured; when those fading honours, on which you relied, and with which you stood surprised, shall be estranged; and you from this goodly low Theatre of earth translated; it shall be then demanded of you, not how eminent you were in greatness, but how servant in actions of goodness. While your skins than are with choicest Odours perfumed, let your souls be with purest virtues powdered. Now for virtue, would you know how to define her, that you may more eagerly desire to become her reteiner? Or would you have her described, that you may thence collect how well she deserves to be observed? Hear the Poet; Virtue in greatest danger is most shown, And though oppressed, is never overthrown. Such a noble resolved temper ever accompanies virtue, as no prosperous success can ever transport her, nor any adverse occurent deject her. She feeds not on the airy breath of vulgar applause: her sole ambition is to aspire to an inward greatness; to be truly honourable in the title of goodness. Great attendance, punctual observance, stately retinues are not the objects she eyes: she loves to be known what she is, by that constant testimony which is in her, rather than by any outward ornament, much less formal compliment, that may apishly suit her. Would you enter then (Gentlewomen) into a more serious survey of yourselves? Would you rightly understand wherein your persons deserve honour, or how you may be eternally honoured by your Maker? Tender your service to virtue; avoid what is hurtful; admit what is helpful. Sacrifice not a vain hour to the Altar of vanity. Employ your time in exercises of piety. Dedicate your days to the advancement of God's glory. A Soul solely dedicated to God's honour, is the best spiritual Cloister. See not that poor soul in want, which your noble compassion will not relieve. Have you friends? hold them dear unto you, if dear in the eye of virtue; otherwise, discard them, for you shall be more stained by them, than strengthened in them. Have you foes? if vicious, they deserve ever to be held so; but if they affect goodness, prise them above the value of your highest fawning friends: who, as they are mere observers of the time, prefer your fortunes with which you are enriched, or honours to which you are advanced, or some other by-respect secretly aimed, before those essential parts which are in you, and truly ennoble you. Are you of esteem in the State? become powerful Petitioners for the poor man's sake: prefer his suit: entertain a compassionate respect of his wrongs: labour his relief; and do this, not for the eyes of men, but of God; who, as he seeth secretly, will reward you openly. Again, Have you such as malign your honour? their aspersions cannot touch you; He that made you, hath made you strong enough to despise them, and with a patient smile, or careless neglect to flight them. Those that are good, can have none but those that are evil to be their foes. The sweet smell of your virtues hath already dispersed themselves; your memory is without the reach of infamy: live then secure, while your virtues shine so pure. Retain a true and unenforced humility in you; so shall honour appear more gracefully in you. Imitate not those sudden-rising gourds of greatness, who have no sooner attained the titles of Ladies, than this report makes them put on a new port; old acquaintance must be forgot; scorn must sit on their brows; and a contemptuous disdain on their lips. Though their mould be but the same, they would fain change themselves into another mould. These are such as deserve not your knowledge; though they be by their titles honoured, their titles by their ignoble actions become blemished. Let them therefore study making of a face; composing of their ga●e; preserving of their vain pomp; with an unbeseeming port: while your Contemplation shall fix itself on no other object, than that true expressive end of honour: which is, to retain a Christian humility in your state; a noble Compassion in your eye; an affable sweetness in your discourse; and exquisite practice of goodness in your whole life. To disesteem virtue, and hug that painted Idol of titular honour, is to contemn the Instrument, and foolishly to prise the Case or Cover. Be ye never so eminent, ye are but painted Trunks, if virtue be not resident. Let her then not only be resident but precedent over all your actions; so shall you not only live but die with honour; by leaving that succeeding memory of your virtues behind you, that time may here eternize you, when time to eternity shall change you. For as salt to every subject, whereto it is applied, gives a savour; so gives virtue the sweetest relish unto honour. No cloth takes such deep tincture, as the Cloth of honour. Clothe died in grain retains ever the deepest colour; but none of deeper dye than the Cloth of Honour. If it be but with the least blemish tinct, it can never wipe off that taint. Spots in white are soon discerned, and errors in great personages, whose actions should be whites for inferiors to shoot at, are quickliest discovered. True Coral needs no colour; no more needs true Honour any exterior lustre. When Parasius, that exquisite Painter was to take a Counterfeit of Helen, he drew her with her head-attire loose; and being demanded the reason, answered, She was loose. Be your actions never so darkly shrouded, nor your amorous encounters cunningly carried; there will be ever some private Pencil to portray them, some quicksighted eye to display them. Love's interview betwixt Cleopatra and Mark Anthony, promised to itself as much secure freedom as fading fancy could tender; yet the last Scene clozed all those Comic passages with a Tragic conclusion. No pleasure can be constant, unless it afford inward content; nor can it minister content, unless it be on virtue grounded. Honour then must choose for herself such a Consort, as she may not be ashamed to have chosen. A vigilant Circumspection should attend her; resembling in this particular, the watchful Crane, whose wary eye ever fears, and by a timely fear prevents surprisal. Now, there is nothing that asperseth a deeper stain upon the Cloth of Honour, than too much attention unto Sycophants. These are they, which transport Honour above herself, by bringing her to a vain and odious idolising of herself. These will not suffer their Trencher-patronesse to reflect on herself, nor to enter into a private treaty with mortality. Those be too sour and severe Tractates for greatness. Death is to be thought on with these, when nothing else is to be thought on. O what pernicious Consorts be these for noble Personages? Antisthenes' said truly of them, Praestat 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 quam 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 incidere: for Raven's seed only on dead Carcases, but flatterers upon living men. O banish these your Portells! Let not your loose Tirewomen, while they trim you without, soil you within. You shall find their Oratory, a continued Scene of Sycophancy. These will infuse a poisonous juice into your too credulous ears: and the more to delude you with selfe-idolatry, tell you how such a dressing infinitely becomes you; such love-spots enamour young Gallants of you; how those rivells of contemptible age are estranged from you. Give no Ear to such enchanting airs; They do but this to enlarge their veils. Their glozing will labour your confusion. They will make you forgetful of your being, and consequently deprive you of your well-being. Every fool (saith Menander) will be taken with arrogance and applause; whereas the judiciously wise account it their highest happiness, to meditate of the means how to prevent their highest unhappiness. It is a miserable thing in a man▪ to make himself a beast, by forgetting himself to be a man: Which usually comes to pass, when we propose before our bleered and deluded eyes the glorious Spectacles of this Theatre of vanity, but never seriously meditate of our own frailty, nor of the excellency of that Supreme beauty, which makes the enjoyer absolutely happy. That Mot of the Athenians to Pompey the Great, Thou art so much a God, as thou acknowledgest thyself to be a man, was no ill saying: for at the least to be an excellent man, is to confess himself to be a man. Violets, though they grow low and near the earth, smell sweetest; and Honour appears the fullest of beauty, when she is humblest. Alas! what are titles worth, when deserts are wanting? The best signal of descent, is distinguished by desert. Antiochus was at one time saluted both 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 & 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, a glorious Prince, and a furious Tyrant. So s●itting is the applause of the vulgar, as it never confers on the subject it approves or applauds, any permanent Honour. It is miserable (saith the Poet) to rely on another's fame; but worse, to beg fame from them that are infamous. Horac●. It is praise worthy to be by some dispraysed; yea, virtuous actions, should they be by vicious persons commended, would rather lose of their lustre, than become any way improved. To be cheerful in adversity, humble in prosperity, and in both to show a temperate equality, is worthy praise, and deserves Honour for a prize. Yet, should these be but only pretences to gull the world, or delude the simple admirer, they would in time unmask themselves, and display their counterfeit insides with shame to the world. False and adulterate colours will not hold, nor virtuous semblances long retain the esteem they have. We have ever held them for most ridiculous, who follow the fashion, and were never yet in fashion. And such are all those Counterfeit followers of virtue, who pretend fairly, but fall off foully. These may be properly, in my opinion, compared to our new counterfeit stuffs; which, as at first they are made best, so do they wear best at first. Your Cloth, Gentlewomen, must be of another nap: it must not be the best a far off. Flowers, Edges, Laces, and Borders do beautify the outward attire, but add no grace to the inward man. Now, that Cloth is the best, which strinks the least. Do any extremities encounter you? Let the innocency of your untainted minds cheer you? Doth disgrace or infamy press you? You have a Cloud of witnesses within you, that can bear testimony of you, and for you. That person needs not fear any foe, that hath within him such an incomparable friend. There was never any yet so happy, as to be wholly freed from adversity, and never feel any gusts of affliction. Trials of patience are sweet encounters; by a mind rightly-resolved, they are with more delight than distaste entertained: Which, as they come not unexpected, so are they no less cheerfully received. It is the argument of a generous spirit, to express his highness' most, when the world accounts of him least. Honour, if truly grounded, can look in the face of terror, and never be amated. Her device deserved approvement, who in the portraiture she made for herself, directed her eye to the picture of virtue, and pointing thereat with her singer, used this Imprezza: That picture is my posture. Truth is, she that makes virtue her object, cannot but make every earthly thing her subject. Yea, there is nothing she wears, which she makes not a moral use of to better herself. Her very attire puts her in mind of what she was before she needed it; and how breach of obedience necessitated her to wear it. She will not therefore pride herself in her shame, nor glorify herself in the cover of sin. She cannot eye herself with any self-love, seeing she lost herself by affecting that which she ought not to love. Her head-tire puts her in mind of the helmet of salvation; her stomacher, of the breastplate of righteousness; her partle, of the shield of faith; her very shoes, of the sandals of peace. In this Tabernacle of earth, she is every day nearer her port of rest; for her discourse is ever seasoned with discretion, winged with devotion, and graced by her own conversation. She is none of these, who are Saints in their tongues, but Devils in their lives: She propounds nought fit to be done, which she confirms not with her own action. Again, for her actions, she is free from public scandal, as her whole life is a golden rule of direction, a continued precept of instruction. In a word, she considers from whence she came; her descent was noble, and this she graceth with noble virtues. Her house must receive no dishonour from her, but an ample testimony of a deserving successor. Let this Idea, Gentlewomen, be your Pattern. Pure is the Cloth you wear; let no stain of yours blemish it; no Moth of deserved detraction eat into it. Many of your Sex, though highly borne, have so blemished the honour of that house from whence they came, and corrupted that noble blood from which they sprung, as their memory rots, yet their infamy lives. Again, others there have been, who though obscurely borne, yet by those eminent virtues which did adorn them, those Divine parts which did truly ennoble them, they became enlightners of their obscurity, filling Annals with their glorious memory. Imitate these; relinquish those. Honour is not worth receiving, unless it be entertained by one that is deserving: yea, how many have incurred disgrace by dis-esteeming virtue, when they were advanced to highness of place? Nay, how many while they lived obscure, lived secure, and preserved their good names, who afterwards, by becoming great, lost that private esteem which before they possessed? So hard it is to encounter with Honour, and every way return a saver. Seeing then no Cloth takes such deep tincture as the Cloth of Honour, let no vicious aspersion spot it, no corrupt affection stain it; lest, by being once blemished, it bring that Honour into contempt, which before you retained. Honourable Personages should be Precedents of goodness. Landmarks are usually erected for direction of the Mariner, and Magistrates elected for instruction of the inferior. The keel of man's life being ever more laden with vanity than verity, and more chilled with the bitter gusts of affliction, then cheered with the soule-solacing drops of true consolation, is ever tossed with contrary winds: neither, without the help of some expert Pilot, can poor deluded man arrive safely at the Port where he would be. Pride transports him, avarice infects him, riot corrupts him, sensuality secures him, anger distempers him, envy consumes him, idleness dulls him. Thus becomes he piecemeal divided from himself, because he reflects not with a pure and impartial eye upon himself. What great need stands he in then of direction in this maze of misery, Epicter. vale of vanity? He portrayed him well, who in the description of him, styled him a story of calamity, a statue of infelicity. He is frail in resisting, prone to falling, slow in rising. Examples than were useful, to conduct him in his journal. And who more fit to be these Precedents, than such whom an honourable descent that ennobled, or Princes favour advanced? It is not for these to entertain any servile or degenerate affection, nor to harbour one mutinous thought against the sovereignty of reason. To be a Lady of honour is more than titular. She is only eminent, who makes every action of her life a virtuous precedent. Goodness must be infused in her blood, that descent may partake of desert. Now, there be three especial objects, upon which they are to reflect: Charity, Chastity, Humility. An honourable mind is best shown in her Liberal and compassionate exhibition to such, whose necessities require relief. Yea, she loves those best, to whom these arguments of bounty are in highest measure expressed. She averts not her ear from the needy beggar, she will show him all favour for his image or feature. She holds it an unbeseeming state, to entertain a sour look, where noble pity should beget in her a compassionate love. She is so daily and duly enured to works of mercy, as she joys in no object more than occasion of bounty. She considers (and this she Divinely applies unto herself) how nought but vanity is to be attributed to them, retain they never so much earthly glory on them, who dwell in houses of clay, whose foundation is in the dust, which are crushed before the Moth. job. 4.19. Silken vanity cannot delude her, nor any opinionate conceit of her own estate transport her. Her mind is not subject to wavering, nor her walk to wand'ring. Be her life long, her goodness becomes improved▪ be it short, her desires are crowned. Neither reserves she the glean for him, that is Master of the Harvest. Poverty, appear it never so despicable to her eye, it conveys compassion to her heart. She gives Alms of the best, for his sake whom she loves best. Her piety is such, as she prefers her Almsbasket before her Cabinet. A miserable mind she hates; for she conceives how nothing can be better worth enjoying, than a liberal desire of disposing: which she expresseth with that cheerful alacrity, as it inhanceth the value of her bounty. Thus she lives in a free and absolute command of what she enjoys; with an hand no less open than her heart; that action might second her pious intention. Neither is the true Nobility of her mind less discerned by her love to Chastity. Pure be her thoughts, and unstained. The Sanctuary of her heart is solely dedicated to her Maker; it can find no room for an inordinate affection to lodge in. She knows not how to throw out her love●attracting Lures; nor to expose the glorious beauty of her soul to shame. A moment's stain must not blemish her state. She will not therefore give her eye leave to wander, lest it should betray her Honour to a treacherous intruder. How weak prove those assaults, which her homebred enemies prepare against her? Her look must be set on a purer Object than vanity: She will not eye it, lest she should be taken by it. Her Discourse must be of a better subject than vanity: She will not treat of it, lest she should be engaged to it. Her thoughts are not admitted to entertain vanity: They must not conceit it, lest they should be deceived by it. Occasions wisely she foresees, timely prevents, and consequently enjoys true freedom of mind. You shall not see her consume the precious oil of her Lamp, the light of her life, in unseasonable reere-bankets, unprofitable visits, or wanton treaties. Those will she not admit of for companions, who are prodigal of their Honour. These she reproves with a mild spirit, labouring to reclaim them with an ingenuous tender of her virtuous compassion towards them. None she more distastes than these Brokers or Breakers of licentious bargains: She excludes them the List of all civil society. How cautelous she is, lest suspicion should tax her? Outwardly, therefore, she expresseth, what she inwardly professeth. That honourable blood which she from her Predecessors received, till death surprise her, will she leave untainted. Neither is there ought she hates more than pride, nor scorns more than disdain. She rightly considers how her days are mensurable, being but a span long, which implies her brevity; and miserable, being altogether vanity. She disclaims that state which consists in scornful looks; A sweet and affable Countenance she ever bears: The honour she enjoys makes her humbler; and the praises which are given her, work in her thoughts no distemper. So far is she from affecting the pomp of this world, as it grows contemptible to her higher-mounting thoughts. A fair and well-seeming retinue she ever keeps about her: but none of these must be Sycophants, with their oily tongues to delude her; neither must any, who clothes his Countenance with scorn, attend her. She observes on what steep and dangerous grounds ambition walketh. Her sleeps are sweeter, her content higher, her thoughts heavenlier. It is one of her greatest wonders, that any one should be so rest of understanding, as to forget what infirm ground he stands on. The purest Creature, be she never so absolute in her feature, is of no richer temper than Earth, our Common-mother. She is wiser than to prefer a poor handful of red Earth before her choicest treasure. Though her deserts merit honour, she disesteemes her own deservings: being highly valued by all but herself. Thus she prepares herself daily for what she must go to. Her last day is her every days memorial. Lower may her body be, when interred; but lower cannot her mind be, than at this instant. So well hath she attained the Knowledge of herself, as she acknowledgeth all to be frail, but none frailer than herself. Here, Gentlewomen, have ye heard in what especial Objects you are to be Honourable Precedents. You shine brighter in your Orb than lesser Stars. The beams of your reflecting virtues must admit of no Eclipse. A thousand eyes will gaze on you, should they observe this in you. Choice and select are the societies you frequent; where you see variety of fashions: imitate not the newest, but neatest. Let not an action proceed from you, which is not exemplary good. These that are followers of your persons, will be followers likewise of your lives. You may wean them from vice, win them to virtue, and make them your constant followers in the serious practice of piety. Let your virtues cloth them within, as their veils do without. They deserve not their wage, who desist from imitating you in actions of worth. Your private family is a familiar Nursery; Plants of all sorts are there bestowed. Cheer & cherish those that be tender; but curb and correct those that be of wilder temper. Free and fruitful Scions cannot be improved, till the luxurious branches be pruned. But above all things, take especial care that those vices spread not in you, which are censured by you. You are Soveraignesses in your families: neither extend your hand too much to rigour; neither contract it by showing too much remissness or favour. Let neither virtue pass unrewarded, nor vice, if it grow domineering, pass unreproved. Fowl enormities must admit of no Privileges. No; should you, by a due examination of yourselves, find any bosome-sinne secretly lurking, any subtle familiar privately encroaching, any distempered affection dangerously mutining; be your own Censors. Be not too indulgent in the favouring of yourselves. Proficients you cannot be in the School of virtue, unless you timely prevent the overspreading growth of vice. Let not your Sun, the light of your soul be darkened; let not your Spring, the fount of your virtues be troubled; Let not your Fame, the perfume of your Honour be impaired. As you are generous by descent, be gracious by desert. Precedents are more powerful than Precepts: These only lead, those draw. Be examples of goodness, that you may be heirs of happiness. The style you enjoy, the state you retain, the statues which after you may remain, are but glorious trophies of fading frailty. Virtue's are more permanent Monuments than all these; these are those sweet flowers that shall adorn you living, impale you dying, and crown you with comfort at your departing. Lastly, as you were honourable Personages on Earth, where you were Precedents of goodness; so shall you be glorious Citizens in heaven, where you are to be Participants of all happiness. WHere Vertue●s ●s sown in a noble Seedplot, manured and fructisied by good Discipline, Virtue or vice whether soever takes hold first, retains a deeper impression in honour, than any lower subject. strengthened by Example, and adorned with those more graceful parts, which accomplish the subject wherein virtue is seated; what bicker of fortune will it sustain? What conflicts in the necessities of nature will it cheerfully encounter? Her spirit is raised above any inferior pitch: Yea, the habit of goodness hath wrought such divine impressions in her soul who is thus disposed; as society may improve her, but cannot corrupt her; because a zealous affection to virtue doth possess her. You shall ever observe these, whom Nobility of blood hath advanced, to retain some seeds or semblances of their progenitors; which are so impressive in them, as no occurrent, be it never so violent, can estrange these from them. Here you shall see a native affability, or singular art of winning affection, to one naturally derived. There in another such a rough and unseasonable austerity, as her very countenance is the resemblance of a Malevola. Some from their infancy have retained such a sweet and pleasing candour, as they could cover anger with a cheerful smile, and attemper passion with a graceful blush. Besides, they had the gift to expostulate with their discontents, and by applying seasonable receipts to their wounds, free themselves from falling into any desperate extremes. Others would rather die, then suffer the expressions of their Passions to die. For affronts, as their spirits could not bear them, so did their actions discover them, and make them objects of derision to such as observed them. And whence proceeds all this? Surely, from the very first relish of our humours; Aristot. 3. de anima. when that unwrought Table of youth becomes furnished with choice characters; and the Subject begins to affect what is engraven in them; by continuance of time they become so habituate, as no art can make them adulterate. Sempronia was too light in her youth, to be stayed in her age. Fulvia gave too much way to her passion in her youth, to attemper it in her age. Xanthippe was too shrewd a maid, to become a quiet wife. What Nature hath not effected in us, may by industry be facilitated in us, so we begin to work while the wax is soft. O Gentlewomen, how many, whose excellent endowments deserve admiration, either by self-opinion have become transported, or by giving loose reins to passion, have miserably wandered, or by inveighing against others more deserving parts, have wittingly transgressed? By which means, they become spectacles of contempt, who otherwise by their conceiving discourse might have given occasion of content. It is too true, that the liberty of greatness is such, as it is more apt to find fuel to feed the humour of vice, then to minister any useful ingredience for the recovery of virtue. Great minds are many times sick of great maladies, which by soothing parasites become insensible, and consequently incurable. Vice in a poor habit never retains that majesty, which it displays in a richer robe. Is it so? Reflect then upon yourselves; if vice seem so specious, what will virtue do: (though all your virtues be but indeed specious vices.) Believe it, if you cherish virtue in your minority, she will perform the office of a faithful guardian. The widow's tears shall be very few, for she will find justice to redress her: the Orphan's cries shall not be so loud, she will find compassion to cheer her. The State shall not exclaim of surfeits, for temperance shall shield her: nor the Church of coldness, for zeal shall inflame her: What a sweet consort is an unison of virtues to the ear of a divine soul! All other Music is disrellishing, because it works not on the affection. Now would you know whence it comes, that virtue or vice, whethersoever takes hold first, retains a deeper impression in Honour, than in any lower subject? The reason is evident: As in their state or condition they are more eminent, so is their representative example in others more inherent. Do these honourable personages than love virtue? they are virtuous moulds unto their followers: they shall find in their shadows what they express in themselves. julia could not be loose, when Lucretia was so chaste: she saw that in her Mistress which deserved love, and to that she conformed the line of her life. To consort at unseasonable hours with loose lovers, or to entertain light discourse to beguile time, was no authentic doctrine in her Mistress family: no day was without her task, no night without her peculiar employment. There is no question, but the prime years of this noble Lady were seasoned with such exquisite instructions, as what her youth had received; were not in her riper years to be abolished. First, motions have deep impressions: especially, when they become seconded by examples of authority, whose very persons impose on their Pupils a resistless necessity. The estimate of Honour, with those who are truly honourable, is at too high a rate to engage itself to the hazard of disgrace, for any temporary profit or delight. Their only profit is to become proficients in the practice of Virtue; Their highest delight, to subdue their delights to the obedience of reason, for the love of virtue. Such as these, are to be accounted only Noble; for their desires are so, which they ever ennoble with deserving actions. For tell me, can any one whose judgement is not blinded, or inward light not wholly blemished, esteem that Person for honourable, whose Outside only magnifies itself in a poked head, a poland sleeve, and a Protean body? No; these are but outward badges of their inward vanity. These have too much core at their heart, to be of sound health. If they have no other expressions to deblaze their Honour, they are rather objects of Contempt than State, be they never so glorious to the eye of our vulgar. It hath been (and I could wish it were not to this day continued) an usual form of breeding, with some more eminent Persons, to have their Children practise a kind of state from their infancy; which, indeed, being truly defined, was a fantastic supercilious garb, which discovered more pride than deserved praise. Neither could these so easily relinquish in their age, what was commended to them in their youth. For such as commonly attended their persons, extolled whatsoever they saw by them, or in them expressed; such is the misery of greatness that if it be not an exact Censor and reprover of her own vanity; They shall find approvers of it by those odious professors of sycophancy, whose glozing condition hath been the ruin of many a noble family. For what may be the usual dialect of these Tame-Beasts to their bounteous Benefactors, those prodigal disbursers of their father's providence, but this parasitical parley? It would well become you, to be rarely seen, reservedly affable; to retain state in your pace, awe in your face, scorn in your eye, a storm in your brow, with a graceful contempt in all your carriage. An excellent direction to purchase hate! These followers are not for your Honour. The way to divert their strain, is to affect what they distaste. You cannot want vicious Libertines to second you in a sensual course, if your own disposition stand so affected. Calphurnia could not be good, when Messalina was so naught. Your lives, as they are lines to yourselves, so should they be lights unto others. Are you modest? It will beget a love of modesty through all your family. Not one who owes their observance to you, but will admire this virtue in you, and practise it in themselves, because they see it so highly valued by you. Again, Lightness, or any irregularity in you whatsoever, will not redound only to your own, but your whole family's dishonour. Which opinion once possessed, your honour receives such a mortal wound, as no continuation of time (so lasting is the record of infamy) may perfectly cure it: which seems confirmed by our modern Poet: Search all thy books, and thou shalt find therein, That Honour is more hard to hold than win. How cautelous then ought you to be of that, which preserves your well being? Many nobly descended, are sufficiently instructed, how to retain their state, what place to take, by remembering whence they came; mean time, they forget whence they came first. O consider how this Speciosior pulvis, this more specious or seemingly precious dust of yours, is but dust! Vice will but varnish it; it is virtue that will richly enamel it. Your birth rather restrains than improves your liberty; your sex should detract from itself, were it estranged from modesty; your beauty, honour, and all, are servants to time; or worse, if bestowed ●n vanity. Let virtue retain such deep impression in you, as no vicious affection may seize on you. Occasions are dangerous persuasions: prevent therefore the mean, that you may attain a more glorious end. That only deserves your love, which shall make you for ever live. Virtue, if you love her and live with her, by becoming your survivor, will crown your happy memory with succeeding honour. That virtue may receive the first impression by means of an inbred noble disposition, seconded by helps of Education. IT is usually observed, that Hawks of one Airy, are not of one nature; Some are more metall'd, others more lazy. As in Birds, so in all other Creatures. Livia and julia, Angustus his daughters, were sisters, but of different natures. Some there are, who even from their infancy have such excellent seeds of native goodness sown in them, as their dispositions cannot relish aught that is irregular. In arguments of discourse, they are moderate; in Company temperate; in their resolves constant; in their desires continent; in their whole course or carriage absolute. Others naturally so perverse, that, like our * These are described to life in the person of an humurous fantastic, in this pleasant Epigram: She that must eat her breakfast in her bed, And is till neon in trimming of her head, And sits at table like a maiden▪ Bride, And talks all day of nothing but of pride: God may do much in mercy for to save her, But what a case is he in that sh●ll have her? humorous Ladies, they can affect nought that others love, nor relish aught that others like. The bias of their fancy runs still on the fashion; their tongue a voluble Engine of feminine passion; their resolves full of uncertainty and alteration. The whole Interlude of their life a continued Act of femallfollies. It were hard to win these to the love of virtue, or those to delight in vice. This might easily be illustrated by divers memorable instances, personated in such, who, from their very Cradle, became seriously devoted to a religious privacy, supplying their want of books, wherein they were merely ignorant, with a devout and constant meditation of God's works, wherein they employed their whole study. Industrious were their hands in labouring, and bounteous were they in bestowing. A native compassion lodged in their hearts, which they expressed in their charitable works. Hospitality to the stranger and needy beggar, was their highest honour. Suffer they would the height of all extremes, ere they would suffer the desolate to want relief. So strongly were their affections fortified against the assaults of an imperious Lover; as death was to them a cheerful object to preserve their high-prized honour. Such singular effects as these, have been usually produced by an innate noble disposition; so as, some of these whom we have here cursorily shadowed, were endowed with such virile spirits, as they sticked not to spit in the face of tyranny; others were not abashed to * This was formerly instanced in that memorable example of Spirituals. disfigure their own beauty, lest it should become an adulterer's booty. In these had virtue taken such deep impression, as nothing could deeply touch them, but what trenched on their reputation. Though by nature they were timorous, and inconstant, resolution had so prepared them, as they became discreetly valiant; looking death in the face without fear, and embracing her stroke as a favour. Do you admire this in them? Imitate them, and you shall be no less by succeeding times honoured, than these in ours admired. Conceive your life to be an intricate Labyrinth of affliction; the very anvil, whereon the heavy hammer of misery incessantly beateth. Reflect on your birth; and you shall perceive how you give the world a good morrow with grief; Look at your death; how you bid the world good night with a groan. joy then cannot be long lasting, when you are daily taking leave of the place where you live; which now, though living, you are leaving. Besides, no continued hope of comfort can be expected, where fear presents herself an inseparable attendant. Fear has command o'er subject and o'er King, Fear has no Fere, seare's an imperious thing. To allay which fear, address yourselves to that most, which may give you occasion of fearing least. And what may that receipt be? A mind purely refined from the corruption of this infectious time. Meditate therefore of that never fading beauty that is within you. Labour to preserve it from the injury of all encroaching Assailants. If your flesh with any painted flourish of light Rhetoric woo her, timely prevent her before she win her. If the world with her Lure of honour, command, or the like, seek to draw her; reclaim her, lest vanity surprise her. If her professed Enemy labour to undermine her, make known his long-profest enmity unto her, that a vigilant circumspection may arm her. Admit your dispositions become sometimes averse from the practice of that which you should most affect; divert the Current of them. You love liberty; confine it to moderate restraint. You affect honour, curb it with a serious meditation of your own frailty. You desire to gather; sow your bread upon the water: Charity will bring you quickly to a better temper. You admire gorgeous attire; remember the occasion how you first became clothed: had not sin been, these poor habiliments had never needed. Doth delicate fare delight you? Consider how it is the greatest misery to pamper that delicately, or cherish it with delicacy that is your mortal and professed enemy. Do wanton consorts work on your fancy? Cure, betime, this dangerous frenzy. Avert your eye, lest it infect your heart: Converse with reason, and avoid nothing more than occasion. Do you find your affections troubled, or to passion stirred? Retire a little from yourselves; attemper that boiling heat which works so violently on you; and in the end, resolve thus; It will redound more to our honour to bridle anger, than to engage our discretions by giving reins to our distemper. Can you not see your Neighbour's field flourish without an Envious Eye? Of all others, expulse this soon; because of all others, it partakes of the Devil the nearest. As you are commanded to love him as yourselves, so with not that evil unto him, which you would not have to fall upon yourselves. Lastly, do you find a remissness in you to any employment that is good? Shake off this natural dulness, Tob. 4.15. and inflame your affections with a Divine ferventness. You have hitherto been slow in doing good, show that in doing ill. Mean time, with the wings of holy and heavenly desires, mount from earth to heaven; plant your affections above, though your pilgrim dimensions be here below. Which the better to facilitate, retain ever in your memory this devout Memorial or Meditation: Bern. Think whence you came, and be ashamed; where you are, and be aggrieved; where you go to, and be affrighted. Every way wherein you walk, as it is full of snares, so should it be full of eyes. Those two roots of inordinate fear, and inordinate love, have brought many to the brink of misery, by plunging their minds in the puddles of vanity. Look about you; snares you shall find within you, snares without you. Snares on your right hand, and those deceitful; Prosperity in affairs temporal. In which, such persons are usually taken and surprised, by whom the benefits of God are abused. As the Rich, when he bestows his wealth in attiring himself sumptuously; the Mighty, in oppressing the needy; the Amorous or Lovely, in giving others occasion to be taken with their beauty: Whence the Lord by the mouth of his Prophet: Thou hast made thy beauty abominable. Snares likewise on your Left hand, and those fearful; Adversity in affairs in temporal. In which the poor, infirm and afflicted are entangled and miserably enthralled: who by suffering affliction impatiently, curse God, their Neighbours, and themselves in their adversity: Whence that Divine and devout Father saith: In affliction the wicked detest God, and blaspheme him; Aug. lib. 1. de Civit. Dei. but the godly pray unto him, and praise him. Now, virtuous Gentlewomen, whose titles do not so much transport you as your love to goodness doth inflame you; may you hence observe, how noble and generous dispositions, which, indeed, are properly defined equal or temperate disposers of the affections, have and do ever receive the first impressions of virtue; which are with constancy retained, as they were cheerfully received. Express then this Nobility of your well-disposed natures in affecting what is good. Vice throws her aspersions on no subject so much as on Honour. Relinquish then rather all state, than it should retain the least stain. Much is promised by your disposition; and no less by your Discipline or Education. Your well-seasoned youth was never known to that rudeness, which more rural or servile states were bred in. Second these rising hopes of inward happiness. You are fruitlessly great, if you be not fruitfully good. Every moment wafts you nearer your haven; let every action draw you nearer heaven. If you fear at any time to wander, Religious fear will be your Conductor. If you doubt the issue of your Encounter, steadfast patienc● will be your Encourager. If you distrust your own strength, you are securer; humility will crown you with honour, and direct you to an happy harbour. As inbred noble dispositions have then enriched you, which by helps of Education are seconded in you, profess yourselves lovers of virtue by your affections, advancers of virtue by your actions, that as honour attends your persons, fame may crown your names, felicity your souls. WHat remains then, to perfect this absolute Masterpiece of honour; but that ye reduce to habit, Virtue reduced to habit, aspires to perfection. and consequently to their best improvement, these initiate seeds of goodness sown in your native disposition, grown by succession, and ripened through Education? Now are ye in the way, and daily nearer the end of your work. Your unconfined souls must ever be aspiring, till they come to their perfection. There is nothing under heaven, that can satisfy a soul created for heaven. Are you Virgins? Let your Virgin-Lamps be fed with the Oil of Charity. Be ready before the Bridegroom call you; yea, call on him before he call you. Let not your Virgin-vayles be veils for vices. Entertain not a light thought, lest by degrees it spread to a sin. In suffering Ishmael to play with you, though her sport seem in jest, your ruin will prove in earnest. Eye not that Object, which may enthrall you; hear not that Subject, which may corrupt you; relish not that Delight, which may deprave you; admit not of that Conceit, which may delude you. Retort a light discourse with a Maiden-blush; Candida virgine is miscuit ora rosis. it argues a spotless soul. He well described a Virgin's prime beauty, who displayed it in shamefast modesty. Let your good name be such a precious ointment as you would not spill it for a world. Are you Matrons? Enlarge yourselves by instruction unto the younger; this is the office of a Reverend Mother. Derive some portion of that knowledge unto others, which you fruitfully received from others. Your lives must be their lines. Every action of yours is exemplar; take heed then, it lead not into error. As you are ripe in years, so appear rich in hours. Remember not a sin without a sigh; nor a toy without a tear. There is no sin more odious, because none more insolently glorious, than to remember sins committed with joy, and apprehend them with delight. Your families should be virtues Nurseries, wherein yourselves are to be Governesses and Precedents of goodness. Aug. in Epist. Here you are to teach your children in the trade of their ways, Prov. 22.6. that when they are old, they may not depart from them. Briefly, Are you young or old? Esteem no life sweeter, than when every day improves you and makes you better: Then when every Task tastes of goodness, to advance your Honour. Delights, as they may moderately cheer you, so let them not play too much on your fancy, lest they take you: Be not commanded by them, but command them. The only means to wean you from them, or make you more indifferent for them, is to fix your affections on those which do infinitely surpass them. There is no comparison betwixt a Palace and a Prison: neither betwixt finite and infinite is there any Proportion. O how happy were you, if with spiritual eyes you might once behold, how the Princes go before, joining with the Singers, and in the midst, young Damsels dancing! The way to contemplate these, and consort with these, is to meditate of heaven, which enjoyeth all these. Here no pleasure, be it never so promising; no delight, be it never so relishing; no recreation, be it never so refreshing; but, though it cheer you in the beginning, it cloys you in the end. Last day, you were at Court; where revels, reere-bankets, shows, and solemnities, were objects to your Eyes, Ears, and Tastes: but all these are vanished. This day, you Coach to th' Exchange; where you see all kind of vanities set at sale, that may any way soil a deluded soul: but the night clozeth the day, which makes them shut up shop, and then all those vanities are shrouded. Next day, you go to a Play; wherein you expect some new Scene of mirth, or some State-action lively presented: but the last Exit, your impreze of frailty, dismisseth you, and then all those artful presentments, which gave so much content, are removed. Thus you run in a maze, while you lay the Scene of your Mirth on Earth. Recollect then your divided thoughts; seat there the delight of your mind, where you may find a continued Mirth. Earth is too low a Stage for an Act of that Majesty; and too strait to give your best guest content within her Mudwals of misery. Let not one hour pass by you, which is not well past. Every day requires his due; every hour her proper hire. Consider, how the eyes of heaven are upon you; how that generous stem, from whence you were derived, expects much from you. The former enjoins you, upon hope of a future reward, to be more cautelous; The latter, as you tender the honour of your house, to be virtuous. Besides, know (Noble Ladies) that all the port or state-magnificence which this inferior Globe can afford you, clozeth ever with more discomfort than content, be your persons never so seemingly happy, nor happily secure, that do enjoy them. Yea, how happy had many Eminent personages been, had they never been taken with this Shadow of happiness? Conclude then, for this conclusion will beseem you, and in your highest ascent of honour incomparably secure you: Honour is virtue's harbour; only those Styled great, are virtues friends, and vices foes. That glorious Light of the Church, an industrious Searcher and judicious Censor of Antiquities, S. Augustine, saith, That anciently the Romans worshipped Virtue and Honour for gods. Whence it was, that they built two Temples, which were so seated, as none could enter the Temple of Honour, unless he had first passed through the Temple of Virtue: to signify that none was to be honoured, unless by some Virtue he had first deserved it. The Moral admits no other exposition than its own expression. For Honour, none should be so daring bold as to woo her, till by passing thorough Virtue's Temple, he get admittance unto her. If you desire to be great, let it be your height of ambition to aspire to honour in the Court of Virtue. Where the lowest cannot be less than a Lady of Honour, because the lowest of her actions correspond with Honour. Such a service were no servitude but a solace. Admit, that sometimes you affected foreign fashions, now let foreign Nations admire your virtues. Perchance, the delicacy of your nature, or misery of a long prescribed custom will not so easily at the first be wholly weaned, from what it hath for so many years affected. Use than an easy restraint at the first; withdraw your affections from vanity by degrees; reserve some select hours for private Devotion; check your fancies when they dote on aught that may distract you. The first Encounter will be hardest; Time will bring you to that absolute sovereignty over your passions, as you shall find a singular calmness in your affections. For the Winds of your passions shall no sooner cease, than that vast boundless Sea of your distempered affections shall become calm. What a brave Salic State shall you then enjoy within your own Commonwealth? Vigilancy becomes Warden of your Cinque Ports; not an invasive foreigner dare approach, while she with watchful eyes waits at the Port. All your followers, are virtues favourites. Piety guides you in your ways; Charity in your works. Your Progenitors deserved due praise, but you surpass them all. Thus shall you revive the ashes of your families, and confer on them surviving memories. But, it is the evening crownes the day; sufficient it is not to diffuse some few reflecting beamelings of your virtues, at your first rising, and darken them with a cloud of vices at your setting. As your days are more in number, so must they be every day better. What avails it the Mariner to have taken his Compass wisely, to have shunned rocks and places of danger warily, and at last to run on some shelf, when he should now arrive at the Bay where he would be? Rocks are ever nearest the shore, and most tentations nearest your end. If you resolve then to come off fairly, prepare yourselves for some encounter daily; observe your exercise of devotion duly; resist assaults constantly; that you may gain a glorious victory. This is all the Combat that is of you desired; wherein many of your Sex have nobly deserved. Stoutly have they combated, and sweetly have they conquered. Emulate their virtues, imitate their lives, and enjoy their loves. So may you with that Pattern of patience die in your own Nests, and multiply your days as the Sand: So may your virtues, which shone so brightly in these Courts of Earth, appear most glorious in those Courts of Heaven. So may these scattered flowers of your fading beauty, be supplied with fresh flowers of an incorruptible beauty: yea, the King himself shall take pleasure in your beauty; who will come like a glorious Prince out of his Palace of royal honour, to grace you; like a Specious Spouse out of his Nuptial Chamber, to embrace you. Mean time, fear not death, but smile on him in his entry; for he is a guide to the good, to conduct them to glory. Conclude your resolves with that blessed Saint; in hope no less confident, than in heart penitent: We have not lived so in the world, Ambros. that we are ashamed to live longer to please God: and yet again, we are not afraid to die, because we have a good Lord. Short is your race, near is your rest: Only, let the less of earth be your gain, the love of God your goal; and Angelical perfection, to which your constant practice of piety and all Christian duties have so long aspired, your Crown. The fear of the Lord is a pleasant Garden of blessing, there is nothing so beautiful as it is, Eccles. 40.27. Trin-uni Deo omnis gloria. A Gentlewoman, IS her own Tyrewsman; one that wears her own face; and whose complexion is her own. Her journals lie not for th' Exchange, needless visits, nor Reere-bankets. Shows and presentments she views with a civil admiration; wherein her harmless desire is, rather to see than be seen. She hates nothing so much as entering parley with an immodest Suitor. Retire from occasions draws her to her Arbour: where the sole object of her thoughts is her Maker. Her eyes she holds her professed foes, if they send forth one loose look; tears must sue out their pardon, or no hope of reconciliation. Her resort to the Court, is for occasion, not fashion: where her demeanour ever gives augmentation to her honour. Her winning modesty becomes so powerful a Petitioner, as she ever returns a prevailing Suitor. During her abode in the City, she neither wears the Street, nor wearies herself with her Coach: Her Chamber is her Tyring-roome, where she bethinks her how she may play her part on the world's Theatre; that she may gain applause of her heavenly Spectators. Her constant reside is in the Country; where hospitality proclaims her inbred affection to works of piety. All which she exerciseth with that privacy, as they will witness for her, she fears nothing more than vainglory. In her house she performs the office of a Mistress, no imperious Governess. She knows when to put on a smooth brow, and to cherish industry with moderate bounty. Her discreet providence makes her family look with a cheerful countenance: Her posterity cannot choose but prosper, being nursed by so natural a mother. The open field she makes her Gallery; her Labourers, her living Pictures; which, though she finds mere Pictures, hanging on, rather than labouring, Passion transports her not above herself, nor forceth her to the least expression unworthy of herself: she passeth by them with a modest reproof, which works in them a deeper impression, than any fiery or furious passion: Her Neighbours she daily woos and wins: which she effects with such innocent affability, as none can justly tax her of flattery. An Overseer for the poor she appoints herself, wherein she exceeds all those that are chosen by the Parish. She takes a Survey daily and duly of them, and, without any charge to the Hamlet, relieves them. She desires not to have the esteem of any She-clarke; she had rather be approved by her living, than learning: And hath ever preferred a sound professant before a profound disputant. A precedent of piety she expresseth herself in her family, which she so instructs by her own life, as virtue becomes the object of their love. Her task she sets herself daily, which she performs duly: Her own remissness, (if any such be) she reproves by so much more than others, as she knows her own life to be more exemplary than others. Some Books she reads, and those powerful to stir up devotion and fervour to prayer; others she reads, and those useful for direction of her household affairs. Herbals she peruseth, which she seconds with conference: and by degrees so improves her knowledge, as her cautesous care perfits many a dangerous cure. In all which, she turns her ear from her own praise: humbling herself lowest in heart, though descent rank her highest in place. She affects nothing more than mildness; distastes nothing more than harshness. Prosperity could never work so upon her thoughts, as to transport her; nor adversity so weaken her well-resolved temper, as to amate her. Though she tender her family; extend her care to her posterity; her highest aim is the practice of piety. Her discretion hath enabled her to distinguish of times: whereby she informs herself when she should be provident and frugal, when bounteous and liberal. Her gate is not more open than is her heart; where she holds the poorest her richest guests. She thinks that day wholly lost, wherein she doth not one good work at least. She is no busybody, nor was ever, unless it were about her family, needle, or Sampler. She holds that day the sweetest, which in actions of goodness is the fruitfull'st. Like a good Merchant, she brings her merchandise afar, and yet she travels not far for it; She ●its at the Stern, steers the Rudder of her state, and frees it from hazard when driven to a straight. Her Husband she acknowledgeth her head; whom to oppose, were to mutiny against her Leader, and consequently show herself an unruly member. If he be intemperate, she woos and wins him with love; and, in time, weanes and reclaims him from his irregular life. So conformable is she to his opinion, both in points of Religion, and arguments of providence; as the Exchequer must be no Sponge to her husband's purse through her conscience. Yet makes she Conscience her gain; and in that blessed commerce, Humility her guide, Heaven her goal. Her household she makes her Commonweal; wherein not any from the highest to the lowest of her feminine government, but knows their peculiar office and employment: to which they address themselves (so highly they honour her they serve) with more love than fear. She becomes Promoter, I mean of no office to wrong her Country, but the tender care of a mother in behalf of her well-educated progeny; to which the world no sooner gives entertainment, than she begins to enable them for their advancement. Markets she seldom visits, nor any place of freer Concourse: for she finds when her eyes are abroad, her thoughts are estranged from home. Would you take a fuller view of her? Draw nearer; Observe her even in these which some of her sex esteem least, with how generous a beauty she adorns herself most. APPAREL she wears; and sighs when she remembers her Sex. She wonders how that figleaf, Habit, should be so strangely altered. How this Ensign of original sin should be so quaintly slashed, and indented. What pains sin takes to display her shame! Her garment is of another cut. Though she cannot rectify this broad-spreading malady, the corruption of this age must not draw her to that vanity. She knows the use of APPAREL, which she would be loath to invert. Ordained it was, to keep in natural heat, and to keep out cold: this she observes with a graceful presence, making this her Impreze: Comely, n●t Gaudy. BEHAVIOUR she sets out with a civil expression, without much art or affectation. There is nothing which doth not infinitely become her. In places of resort, she is so highly admired, as those which observe her, could be well content to serve her. She is generous in all; Not a Look but gives Life to Love; and that so virtuously disposed, as not a light thought can distract it. Her very motion is a moving direction; She never learned to tinkle with her feet, to wander with her eyes, to stain her spotless honour with a painted blush. All she doth is her own; All her own doth incomparably please; which she clozeth with this impreze: Loving Modesty is a Living Beauty. COMPLIMENT she admits, but not that which this Age affects; she prefers Substance before mere Formality. Pith before the Rind, Performance before Ceremony. She distastes nothing so much as that Court fustian; which, in her esteem, is quite out of fashion▪ your Servant's Servant. She cannot protest in jest, nor profess what she means not in earnest. She cares not for this Rhetorical varnish, it makes a good cause suspicious; her desire is to express herself in action more than discourse. That COMPLIMENT which consists in congees, cringies, and salutes, disrellisheth her palate most: it tastes too much of the Cask; for the rest she is secure, so her actions be really pure; herself completely honest. Thus she sums up her days, makes virtue her praise, this her Impreze: Civil Compliment, my best Accomplishment. DECENCY is her native Livery; though she make no shadow of it, her own shadow is not more individuate. In her attire she is not so sumptuous as seemly, not so costly as comely; in her discourse she delivers her mind not so amply as fully, nor so quickly as freely; in her whole course she expresseth her inward beauty. Her Glass is not half so useful to herself, as the glass of her life is to others. Whatsoever is worn by her, receives a singular grace from her. Her fashion is never out of request; though more constant in it, than the Age would admit. She lives to bring time into some better t●●e: this is her task in every place; this is that which crownes her with peace; while she deviseth this for her impreze: Virgin-Decency is Virtue's Livery. ESTIMATION is that precious odour which gives sweetness to her honour. Dye had she rather with it, than enjoy an Empire and live without it. It is the Goal of all her Actions. The Crown of all her Labours. Poverty she holds an incomparable blessing, so her name be enriched by ESTIMATION: No lead Fly can corrupt that Ointment. Happy needs must be her State, that preserves this without Stain. This she feeds not with the juice of vainglory; nor seeks to augment it with a fabulous story. Many have purchased praise in Oily lines, that never merited applause all their lives. Her desire is to be, rather than seem; lest seeming to be what she is not, she gull the world; but herself most, by playing the counterfeit. Resolute is she in this her Impreze: My prize is her own praise. FANCY she entertains with a cheerful but chaste bosom. Though Love be blind, her love has eyes. No less faithful is she in retaining, than doubtful in entertaining. Protests are dangerous Lures to credulous Lovers, but her FANCY is too stayed to stoop unto them. She can love well, but lest she should repent soon, and that too late, she will try before she trust, have some reason to like before she love. She holds that FANCY a Frenzy, which is only led by Sense. She makes Reason her Guide, that Content may be her Goal. Long time she debates with Love, before ever she give Love her heart; which done, she confirms the bargain with her hand. Her Constancy she displays in this Impreze: My Choice admits no change. GENTILITY is not her boast, but that which dignifies that title most. Titles from Ancestors derived, and by their Successors actions not revived, She holds degenerously usurped. Virtue is her sovereigness; in whose service to live and die she holds the absolutest happiness. Gentry she thinks best graced by affability: To be surly, derogates as much from her worth, as baseness from Nobility of birth. Her Lineage is best distinguished by her Crest, her worth by herself. Her desert gives life to her descent. Not an action comes from her, but excellently becomes her. She ever reflects on the House from whence she came, whose antiquity she ennobles with numerous expressions of piety; from the rising height of which increase, she draws this Christian Impreze: Desert Crowns Descent. HONOUR she deserves more than desires; This she may admit, but not admire. Weak she holds that foundation of HONOUR, where virtue is not a supporter. That antic portraiture of State must needs decline, where piety bears not up the train. The more HONOUR that is conferred on her, makes her the humbler; she clothes not her Look with a disdainful scorn, nor clouds her brow with an imperious frown. far more esteems she the title of goodness than greatness. She holds nothing more worthy of her approving, than a daily drawing nearer to Perfection, by her virtuous living. Her whole Pilgrimage is nothing else than to show unto the world what is most requisite for a great Personage. In a word, shall we take a review of her Noble carriage in each of our Observances? For the first, she is fashionably neat; for the second, formally discreet; for the third, civilly complete; for the fourth, amiably decent; for the fifth, precious in repute; for the sixth, affectionately constant; for the seventh, generously accommodated; for the eighth, honourably accomplished. Whence it is, that she impales her divinall race with this imperial Impreze: Honour is Virtue's Harbour. Go on, then, she may with Honour, seeing the King in her beauty takes such pleasure. A Divine presage of promising goodness was her infancy; A continuate practice of piety was her youth and maturity; The close of her Pilgrimage a calm passage from frailty to felicity. Longer would the earth keep her, but so should she be kept from that which she values far better. Her Husband cannot stay long behind, seeing his better part is gone before. FINIS. APPENDIX UPON A FORMER supposed Impression of this TITLE. DUring my late and long abode in the Country, I was advertised by a friend from the University, that my ENGLISH GENTLEMAN was matched in the City. Which report did not a little perplex me; that one so tenderly nursed, carefully nurtured, and by the testimony of all such as did judiciously know him, absolutely accomplished, should without his Father's consent, become tide, whom a generous Liberty had made free. Besides all this, I was infinitely troubled with the fear of his Choice. For, thought I, should he now be married to some Young-roisting-minx, who ne'er knew what providence meant, but intended more the tricking and trimming of herself, than decking or dressing of her Soul; who makes it her sole task, to sacrifice the Morning to her Glass, the Midday to the Stage, the Evening to a Light Consort or recre-banket; and so spin out her time in a sensual surfeit; how would this distemper him, and consequently disrelish them, who treasured up their hopes in him! This begot in me divers resolves, which were seconded with a fresh sally of doubts and fears. Sometimes I resolved, if the Match were not already concluded, nor the rites solemnised, to forbid the baines lest it should be his bane, so rashly to contract, before he had his parent's consent. But I feared, lest this might have the selfsame issue, which that cashiered Soldier had, who having bestowed seven years and more in service with the States; and now returning home; and coming on a Holiday to the Parish church where he was borne, he might hear the baines of matrimony published betwixt one who bore his own wife's name, and another, to whom she was to be espoused, as he rightly conceived. So as, impatient of farther delay, he forbade the baines; but to no purpose; for though she bore her name, she was not his wife whom he heard published; for his own wife was long before, to the Curate of the Parish solemnly contracted. All this while recollecting my senses, and adding spirit to my resolves, I began a fresh thus to expostulate with myself: Admit this Young Gentleman were married, and by his Choice disparaged; were it not in the compass of our Laws to redress it? Yes; for, thought I, her carriage will not be so fair, but one may take advantage of it; and consequently procure a divorce by it. Or, should her circumspect levity be such, as none could discover it, nor tax her demeanour for it, yet presumptions and Probabilities, exemplified with fat fees, would bring her to a discovery, and in short time produce a Nullity. Records upon due search, (had they not of late either subtilely or tumultuously been defaced) I needed little doubt, but they would furnish me with Eminent instances of this kind; which being feelingly pressed, would become very prevalent before a Conceiving Court. Besides, I might justly insert this in the course of my pleading, as a sufficient ground or motive to Separation; pregnant proof I have of a precontract betwixt this ENGLISH GENTLEWOMAN and HIM; which marriage, though it were not solemnised with an external rite, yet by mutual consent was it confirmed, and reciprocally plighted with a ceremonious entergage of hand and heart. But I held it fittest, to address my course to the place, before I resolved of the material points of my pleas. And first to confer with my Gentleman himself, that I might understand by him how he stood affected; and whether his own relation would confirm, what erring report had so constantly bruited. But to my comfort, as I left him, so I found him; of too discreet a temper, to be taken with any such counterfeit Creature. Such reports, he ingenuously confessed, there were dispersed; But what am I (said he) by these disparaged? My untainted honour is neither improved nor impeached by rumour. He builds weakly, who rears his foundation on the opinion of the vulgar. Have you ever seen me so lightly enamoured, as to prefer either face or habit, before a deserving Spirit. Did you ever enjoin me that moral Embassy, which I have not faithfully performed? Or imposed on me that task, being noble and generous, which I have not carefully discharged? Were your eyes ever witnesses of any loose or light affection, to which I too pliably inclined? Or have you at any time observed me so lightly credulous, as constantly to affect what was transitively commended? Have you ever known me sacrifice my Lamp to the Idol of an undeserving love? Or melted into passion, to display the least impression of that love? Or flattered that Love with any forced hyperbole, or passionate line? Or with folded arms passed over a tedious hour, with an amorous redoubling of A Mees? How fares it then, you should so rashly conceit, what prejudicated report had so lightly dispersed? No, believe it; had it been my unhappy fate, to have engaged my faith to such a stain; or darkened my discretion with such a foil; or interchanged my present happy estate, with such a blemish of her Sex; I would have razed out my TITLE, and exposed myself a contemptible Subject to all people. Besides all this, I verily think, I should have turned true Courtier, and made it my perpetual Progress, never to lie with her. This did not a little revive me, to hear him so constantly express himself: Being therefore thus freed, from what I feared, I desired nothing more than to search out the occasion of this fear. Where I perceived, that a Mercenary * A Frisking From, freighted hither in a Florentine Frigate. Meretrician, who had taken upon her the state and stile of Gentlewoman, with more impudence than became her sex, had challenged acquaintance of my Gentleman; which, though his Modesty did distaste, his Civility would not altogether reject, but permitted her like a thing of Sale, to lie apart from him on the open Stall. This propinquity of lying, or contiguity of lodging, begot a groundless probability of their Loving. But how far his affection was estranged from her, shall appear by the entertainment he gave to this Gentlewoman, whom we here tender; upon whose arrival, he expressed the true ground of his affection, after this manner: With a chaste Embrace of true Conjugal love, you are welcome. Let it not amate you, nor lessen my former esteem with you, in that Report hath blazed me forgetful of you, by preferring an undeserving Choice before you. Fame were not herself, if all the grounds of her reports were truth. Indeed, if either Titles could have drawn me, or Mercenary respects seized on me, I had been neither yours nor mine own; for in being less than yours, I could not possibly have been mine own. But tell me, my virtuous Choice, did you ever know me either taken with Titles, or deluded with Shows? Here is one indeed, who intrusively, and with less modesty than became her Sex, pressed my acquaintance; but could her forwardness work upon my affection, or leave with it the least retentive impression? No; should I choose again, as now my Choice admits no Change, I should equally prise the love of a Wench too forward, and of one too froward: and entertain them both with that indifferent respect, as neither the forwardness of the one, should beget in me a desire of winning, nor the frowardness of the other, move me to spin out my time in fruitless wooing. Indeed, I was seated in a warmer clime than where you resided. The South was my seat, while the North was your nest; yet could not that Clime make me discontinue my claim. Coole is that love which either air can distemper, or distance of place dissever, or any disastrous occurrent altar. You know what pledge I left you; nor did I ever since, engage it to any but you. Never shall you find me any such Paphlagonian Partridge, as to have two hearts. It is not title but substance, I affect. Your Virtues were my first motives of affection; I did not eye your Descent, though nobly eminent; nor those outward accomplishments of yours incomparably excellent; nor your Fortunes, in a worldings eye highly consequent. These I confess, might produce rare effects, in such, whose conceits only work on outward objects. Mine eye was fixed in an higher Spheere; Spheered in a more glorious Orb. What I observed in you, did so enamour me, as I preferred that inward fair, which did so truly grace you, far above those outward ornaments which did superficially adorn you. Could you imagine then, that a foreign beauty could engage me, or a simpering civilised thing, whose best habiliments were borrowed, and whose very complexion, like a Bee in a box, preserved, should so wean me from what I deservingly fancied; as to become affianced to her, whose exposed liberty had made her publicly suspected? No; I never distinguished true merit by any of these: Being such weak supports, as should any one rely on them, they would fail them, if not fall under them. But mildly tempered shall my construction be of my dear Loves suspect. I persuade myself, it was a surpassing affection that first begot this Conceit: which now sweetly allayed and attempered by reason, will admit of no such fear; seeing discreet fancy cannot dispense with faith, nor ●hat faith incline to any separation, till enforced by an inevitable fate. With these and such like amorous regreets, mixed with other variety of choice discourse, they entertained time; while she, now safely seized of him she solely loved, and in whom her desires were fully closed; importunately sought rather, out of an apprehension of love than fear, (as what Creature more impatient of a Corrival, or more solicitous of revenge in the quest of love than a woman) to know the true ground of that report, which rumour had dispersed; that any other should be interessed in his love, whom so constant and continuate an affection had confirmed hers. Wherein he fully resolved her, by relating unto her, how amongst other impertinent Pasquil's, usually foisted, and wherewith public Presses are frequently farced, which begets in our age such a surfeit, as more learned labours become dis-rellished, and the surquedry of wit only affected; a young Gentlewoman, whose ungenerous parts scarcely deserved that title, had by a secret or surreptitious claim made challenge unto him, but never durst to that day profess any such thing publicly before him; which he so slighted, as his thoughts never deigned to stoop to so low a lure; having long before, on a purer Object fixed his love, and to her sacred shrine sacrificed the remains of his life. This relation so cleared her from the least thought of suspicion, as it added now strength to her already-sufficiently strengthened affection. Equally communicated became their joys, sociably attempered became their griefs: No sorrow could work so violently, nor break forth so passionately, which the sweet union and communion of their concording minds, could not qualify; No Solace could transport them so highly, nor seize on them so hotly, wherein with joint affections they did not partake mutually, and which, with a virtuous temper they allayed not mildly. Thus were they individually plighted, thus are they inseparably placed, mutually pleased, immutably planted, equally solaced, and now to the public view of the world, solemnly united. Imagine then, if at any time you encounter with the Impression of any former Labour bearing this TITLE, that'tis but the Embryo of his brain, whose Mercenary profession it is to divulge any Corky Subject, that may promise but the least hope of profit; resembling that ancient Pantotipe of Amsterdam; who publicly protested, that he could be well contented, that the Turkish Koran were Universally professed, so the privilege of it might be to him and his Assigns solely granted. For this Appendix, it was occasionally writ upon the report of publishing a Subject bearing this Title: which, belike, hearing of the coming forth of a more Deserving Consort, hath been discreetly silenced, or by neglect of Time, in obscure privacy retired. Now if any such Amphibium, after so long diving shall appear venting, let it receive what it deserves to have, timely suppression. For such Readers, as are rather taken with Titles than Substance, and become miserably enamoured on a beauteous Frontispi●e; I would request of them this favour, to spare their labour of perusing more than the Title-Page, which will serve well enough for their Classic discourse of Authors; for these, it is their highest honour, to furnish their useless memories, with Scholies and Catalogues of unread Authors; and to tax them too of some egregious errors, although these Subjects mount far above the pitch of their Critic Censures. In a word, let our Gentleman with this his incomparable Choice be compared, and you shall find them equally matched, affectionately mated, and both for Ornament and Substance completely graced. So I commend you to the Perusal and Parallel of these; which if you truly imitate, be ye of what Sex or state soever, they will make you truly commendable, and crown your ripened age with honour. EMBLEM. SOme hold these Observations to be long, Some more judicious, hold them to be short, Thus are they censured be they right or wrong; What should we then make Censure but a sport, Since good or bad, we're ne'er the better for't? Which to attemper, I should think it best, " Virtue were Censor in each Author's breast. A Compendious Table; wherein the Principal points contained in this Book, are with no less Brevity than Perspicuity, Propriety than Facility couched. APPAREL. Observat. 1. OF the necessity of Apparel. Pag. 271. Primitive purity exempted us from these necessities; Original impurity subjected us to these necessities pag. 273. Apparel keeps the body warm two ways: first by keeping in the natural heat: 2. By keeping out accidental cold. pag. 272. These benefits are inverted by fantastic Fashions late introduced: where attires are not made to keep cold out, but to bring cold in. pag. 272. & 273. Of the use of Apparel. 273. To makes this use good, Modesty must be our guide, Virtuous thoughts our guard; so shall Heaven bëe our goal. ibid. A me●●●rable instance of a Religious woman; expressing what Divine use she made in the eyeing of her Apparel. ibid. The habit of the mind may be best discerned by the carriage of the body; the Disposition of the body, by the habit. pag. 274. The Constancy of the Heathen, in retaining their ancient Country fashion; and immutably observing the habit of their own Nation. ibid. Habit is to be used as an Ornament of decency; without the least Border or Edging of Vanity. pag. 275. Directions, how to dispose the Senses; and that Reason must keep Sentinel, lest they become Sensual. ibid. The preciousness of time; whereof, a Moment is our portion; nor hath the Commandingst Emperor a larger proportion. ibid. How contemptible a thing is Man, if he erect not his thoughts above man! ibid. Of the abuse of Apparel. ibid. More time spent how to abuse time, and corrupt licentious youth; then how to address employment to qualify the distractions of the one, or to rectify the distempers of the other. pag. 276. This illustrated by instances in three several places. City, Court, and Country: And accommodated, with Observations proper to every Subject. ibid. The Task of a virtuous Mirror, and a true Lady of Honour, expressed; and to all Ladies, as a Precedent of goodness, zealously recommended. pag. 277. The life of a mere Libertine instanced and displayed with a relation of those desperate Conclusions to which she adhered. ibid. How the use of Apparel may be inverted to abuse: either by Delicacy, or Superfinity. pag. 277. Reproof touching Apparel, originally occasioned from four respects: 1. sumptuousness. And that confirmed by a memorable example. 2. Softness. And that confirmed by a memorable example. 3. Strangeness. And that reprovable in these 3. particulars: 4. superfluousness. And that reprovable in these 3. particulars: Variety. ibid. Immensity. ibid. Vanity. ibid. All which are intervened with sundry instances of various delight. pag. 277. & 278 etc. A dissuasion from Delicacy of Apparel, by reflecting on the Emblem of humane frailty, the model of our mortality. Which continuate Subject is stored with a select variety of divine and humane observations. pag. 279. & 280. Superfluity of Apparel condemned; the Fashion-mongers answered: clozing that Branch, with a devout Admonition and personal application from divine BASILE extracted, and usefully applied. pag. 281. & 282. That Apparel most comely, which confers on the wearer, most native beauty, and most honour on her Country. pag. 283. Habit is a custom; yet it is our custom to change our Habit. ibid. Each Country retains a fashion of her own, save our own. ibid. Ours an extraction or confection of all, which makes us jeered at by all. ibid. Gregory the Great being highly taken with the comely feature of the English; said, It was great pity that those Angles should not, in disposition as well as proportion, resemble Angels. ibid. Fantastic fashions are no motives of affection to discreet Lovers. pag. 284. Discretion will be more taken with Modesty, than Vanity; and Humility, than Vainglory. ibid. The World is our Stage, our Life an Act; The Tiring-house, where we bestowed such care, cost and curiosity, must be shut up, when our Night approacheth, and strips us of these robes of our mortality. Without Virtue, all humane glory is a vading beauty ibid. BEHAVIOUR. Observat. 2. BEhaviour reflects on three particulars. Action. Pag. 286. Affection. Pag. 286. Passion. Pag. 286. Virtue is the life of Action, Action the life of man. ibid. In this Subject some are employed (but remissely) to the purpose. Others are employed to no purpose. Others sleep out their mind in security. Others creep and cringe into an Apish formality. None of these direct the bent of their actions, to the Object of true Glory. ibid. A woman's honour is of higher esteem than to be thus disvalue. Light occasions are many times grounds of deep aspersions. Actions are to be seasoned with discretion, seconded by direction, strengthened with instruction, lest too much rashness bring the undertaker to destruction. ibid. A brief Commemoration of divers noble women, who as they were honourable by descent, so were they memorable for desert. Parallels to the best men for conversation, though weak in sex, nature and condition. pag. 287. An exhortation to young Gentlewomen, to conform themselves to such imitable patterns: concluding with that excellent instruction addressed by St. HIEROM to that holy Virgin DEMETRIAS; commending nothing so much unto her as industry, the better to inure her in the practice of Piety. Hier. ad Demet. ibid. Nothing requires more discretion than affection. pag. 288. One can never truly love and not be wise: which directly opposeth PLATO'S opinion. ibid. Nothing more impatient of delay than Love: Nothing of more different passion: with an exact relation of their distinct operation. ibid. Love is neither to be too subtly coloured, nor too simply discovered. If too hot, the violence of it is best rebated by absence; if too cool it is to be quickened with more frequent conference, and assiduate presence. pag 289. Passion never works more fearful effects, then when it streams from jealousy: verified by a tragic Example in our own Isle and time occurring, and to succeeding times surviving. ibid. Remedies to appease anger, and every passionate distemper. pag. 290. & 291. * The discommodities which arise from Passion; the benefits which redound from attempering it. * Greg. Moral. lib. 5. cap. 31. ibid. etc. An useful Exhortation, to this temperate Moderation. pag. 292 How a Gentlewoman is to behave herself in Company. ibid. Modesty and Mildness hold sweetest correspondence in all societies. pag. 293 Chastity is an enclosed Garden; and by no licentious foot to be entered. ibid. Other vices are discomfited by fight, Lust only defeated by f●ight. Aug. lib. de honestate mulieris. pag. 294 We may be in security, so long as we are sequestered from society. ibid. We are to subject affection to the sovereignty of reason. ibid. How a Gentlewoman is to behave herself in Privacy. ibid. Patterns of singular devotion recommended to h●r imitation. pag. 295, & 296. Meditation being a Key to open the Morning, a lock to close the Evening, should be a Gentlewoman's bosom companion. ibid. Gentlewoman, without much reservancy, are not to frequent public places of Society. pag. 297 Instances of such, as being discreetly reserved, accommodated their persons to public affairs, and became improved by them. pag. 298 A judicious recollection of such who intent time, and such who misspend time: clozing with the relation of sundry fearful Examples, to deter loose livers from the like secureness. pag. 299 & 300 That Behaviour most approved, which is clearest from affectation freed. ibid. Virtue's Habit and Behaviour is free and not affected; native and not traduced. pag. 301 An accurate distinction or dijudication betwixt an enforced and unaffected Behaviour. ibid. A Gentlewoman is so to behave herself, that to● much curiosity tax her not of pride, nor too much Majesty of State. pag. 302 COMPLIMENT. 〈◊〉 3. Compliment defined. Pag ●●● With what 〈…〉 retained their form of Compliment. ibid. & 304 Different g●●●es proper to distinct places. ibid. A 〈◊〉 betwixt real and 〈◊〉 Compliment. ibid. A deserving commendation of 〈◊〉 English Ladies, in their unaffected way of Compliment. ibid. & 305. How Compliment may be corrupted. ibid. A description of am●rous 〈◊〉, with a just repress of thei● 〈◊〉 Hyperbolees. pag. 306 The Compliment 〈◊〉 by some great ones, were but mere Canting among Beggars. pag. 307 How Compliment 〈◊〉 be refined. ibid. Civility is the best and most refined Compliment that may be. pag. 308 Civility is never out of fashion 〈◊〉 deserving admiration. pag. 309 It is Society that gives us, or takes from us our Security. pag. 30● Wherein Compliment may be admitted, as mainly consequent. pag. 309 The Court is the Beacon of the State; the Seat or School of Compliment. ibid. As Courtiers are Objects to many Eyes; so should their Actions be Platforms to many Lives. pag. 310 Corrivallship in a light C●r●●zans love, hath deprived many a hopeful Gentleman of his dearest life. ibid. In Contests of love, it is hard to determine whether the Agent or Patient suffer in me. ibid. Wherein Compliment may be omitted, as merely impertinent. pag. 311 Apish formalists, or Complemental actors disesteem those three principal faculties of the Understanding. Discourse. Distinction. Election. Singular Directions, how to accommodate them in all these. ibid. & 312. What Compliment gives best accomplishment. ibid. Sensual Courtesans are their own Furies. pag. 313. A good Christian the compleatest Courtier: Virtue the Ornament, which gives Compliment the best accomplishment. ibid. DECENCY. Observat. 4. DEcency recommended as requisite, in four distinct Subjects: Gate. Pag. 315. Look. Pag. 315. Speech. Pag. 315. Habit. Pag. 315. GATE. It is no hard thing to gather the disposition of our heart, by the dimension of our Gate. ibid. Though our Feet be here below, our Faith should be above. pag. 317. No path of pleasure should draw us from those joys which last for ever. ibid. LOOK. A wanton Eye is the truest Evidence of a wand'ring mind: Our Eye becomes the sense of sorrow, because the sense of sin. ibid. An Unclean Eye the Messenger of an unclean heart. ibid. Distinct Objects proposed to Eyes diversely affected. ibid. By looking upward, the more we look, we shall like; the longer we live, we shall love. pag. 318. SPEECH. Without Speech can no society subsist. ibid. Excellent rules for propriety of discourse. pag. 319. & 320. A deliberate apprehension begot by serious attention, is to go ever before discourse. ibid. What Subject suits best for a Gentlewoman's discourse. ibid. A pleasant answer of mellifluous BERNARD, applied to all forward Shee-church discoursers. ibid. Silence in a Woman, is a moving Rhetoric. ibid. HABIT. There is nothing which moves us more to pride it in sin, than that which was first given us to cover our shame. pag. 320. sumptuousness of the Habit deserves not so much reprehension, as Fantasticness of the Habit, in respect of the form of fashion. pag. 321. Decency is a civil Gentlewoman's choicest livery, which sets her forth before all embroidery. ibid. Time is too precious to be made a Pageant or Morris on. ibid. A brief but most useful application of those four proceeding Subjects. pag. 322. Decency, the attractivest motive of Affection. ibid. Nothing conveys more affection to the heart, than Decency in the Object we affect. ibid. In this age, the best shot to be discharged is a Tavern reckoning, the best Alarm carousing, and the most absolute March reeling. ibid. No Habit so decent, as what is native and properly habituate. pag. 323. Where Virtue is not directress in our choice, our inconstant minds are ever prone to change. ibid. Nothing should give us Content, but what is decent. ibid. Decency the smoothest path that leads to perfection. pag. 323. The only way to be Complete, is to be decent. 324. An adumbration of that glory, reserved for those that affect Decency. ibid. A virtuous Exemplary life crownes the Soul with eternal rest. ibid. ESTIMATION. Observ. 5. EStimation, a Gentlewoman's highest prize. pag. 327. The loss of Estimation makes the richest Merchant an irreparable Bankrupt. ibid. Fame, the sweetest flower that ever grew near the border of Time. ibid. A continuation of sundry eminent personages; puissant in arms, continent in desires; and absolute Commanders of their own affections. pag. 328, 329. Greece and Rome were no less honoured for PENELOPE'S and LUCRETIA'S Constancy; than for ULYSSES wisdom, or COLLATINE'S loyalty. ibid. Portion may woo a Wordling; Proportion a youthful wanton; but it is virtue that wins the heart of discretion. pag. 329. A select improvement of our Albion Ladies. pag. 330. How Estimation may be discerned to be real. ibid. Instructions of singular use for Maids, Wives, and Widows: illustrated with proper instances in each kind. The way to win an Husband is not to woo him, but to be wooed by him. pag. 330, 331. Mothers the fittingst Nurses of their own children; seconded by examples in all ages. pag. 331, 332. etc. A Mistress of a family many times taxed for her Handmaids delicacy: instanced and illustrated copiously. pag. 334 The lives of the dying, consist in the memory of the living. ibid. How Estimation may be discerned to be superficial. pag. 335. Many desire to appear most to the eye, what they are least in heart. ibid. The first occasion of kissing the lip: with a free reproof of our late but too neat introduced custom of kissing the cheek, elegantly shadowed in a Sonnet. ibid. Discretion cannot approve of that for good, which self-opinion or singularity only makes good. ibid. Those who dedicate themselves to the service of Virtue, prefer the pith before the rind, substance before appearance. pag 336 A 〈…〉 wanton Women. ibid. Sin's may 〈…〉 but never without fear. ibid. Superficial Complementors, are hypocritical Courtiers. ibid. Directions how to be gracious Courtiers in the highest Court. ibid. How Estimation may be impregnably preserved. pag. 337. Of all arrows, those which are darted by the spirit of zeal wound the enemy most, and procure the Archer best rest: confirmed by sundry notable examples. ibid. & 338 None can walk safely, that walks not religiously. ibid. A reflection upon the constancy and resolution of Heathens, recommended to the imitation of Christian wom●n. ibid. Virtue cannot exercise her own strength, nor express her own worth without an Opposite. ibid. An instance in a noble Lady. pag. 339 A direction in the close. ibid. How Estimation may be irreparably lost. ibid. The * Ivy while it is winding, decays the plant, with which it is wreathing. * Ilices hederae, agiles horae conficiunt. ibid. An instance of a Citie-Virago. pag. 340 An use of this instance. ibid. The absolute end, whereunto Estimation aspires, and wherein it cheerfully rests. ibid. This confirmed by sundry examples; and one most remarkable of our own. ibid. & 341 etc. An application to these Ladies of our own. pag. 342. FANCY. Observat. 6. FAncy, is to be with deliberation grounded. pag. 343 The Eye is Fancies harbinger, but the heart is her harbour. ibid. Directions for settling and disposing our affection. pag. 344 Love's purity is to be discussed, before it be entertained. ibid. Not the rind but the mind it Discretions Ad●●●ant. ibid. The misery of jealousy debla●●n●d and exemplified. ibid. Singular resolves for a Conjugal 〈◊〉. pag. 345. & 346 Fancy is to be with constancy retained. p●g. 346 Two memorable Mottoes recommended. ibid. The waywardness of some women justly reproved, and how that humour may be rectified. pag. 347 The admirable purity and efficacy of Love. ibid. Memorable examples of Conjugal Constancy and Continency. Which constancy or rather pertinacious Fancy might be instanced in that Hartfordshire widow; who, though l●ft deeply engaged by her Husband, was strongly solicited by sundry eminent Suitors: all which she rejected, making choice of a d●b●u●ht Spendthrift; And, though much disswaided by her friends, she declined not her affection, Saying ever, He was good enough to lie in a ●ayle; which she perform, for the very same day they were married, Her Bridegroom was arrested and committed to Prison, where she accommodates him with all necessaries, but never to this hour admits him the enjoyment of her person. pag. 34● An exhortation tending to the imitation of such famous Precedents. ibid. Wanton Fancy is a wand'ring frenzy. ibid. Wanton Love, seldom or never, promiseth good success: Covertly shadowed in the instance of a reckless Lady; who, though an hoary dye had discoloured her hair, and ripeness of years had summoned her to her 〈◊〉, yet so far was she estranged from 〈◊〉, as her brothell-bed chased with 〈◊〉 broths, became an ●arbouresse to three tendinous Consorts night by night. To this fury of loose Fancy, as she prostituted her honour, so wheresoever she struck a●ch●r, ill success did ever accompany her. ibid. The incendiaries or foments of this inordinate passion, to six particulars reduced, all which are in one distich included. ibid. The odious and inhuman effects in all 〈…〉 the violence of this Wanton fancy, or Wand'ring frenzy. pag. 349. Sovereign receipts to cure this desperate malady. pag. 350 What kind of affection deserves a Gentlewoman's election. ibid. How Fancy may be checked, if too wild; confirmed by a Philosophical demonstration or Physical experiments. ibid. A pleasant and pit●y expostulation with fancy. ibid. A dissuasion from too much credulity to the light protests of deceiving fancy: confirmed by a modern example. pag. 351 A Gentlewoman may with more safety suspect, than too rashly affect. ibid. A discreet resolution upon terms of affection, seconded with the promise of an assured blessing. ibid. The secret impression, and passionate expression of an unfortunate Lady in the relation of her misery. ibid. & 352 It is not so hard to give comfortable counsel to the sorrowful, as to find a fit season when to give it. ibid. Consideration, a necessary guide to affection. Ibid. Repentance comes too late at Marriage night. Ibid. How Fancy may be cheered if too cold. ibid. The incomparable honour of a Virgin-condition. pag. 353 The hate of Iu●est with brute Beasts. ibid. The Bird of Love, the Emblem of a Lover's heart. pag. 354 Monies are inferior pictures to true Lovers. ibid. The absolute end of a conjugal State. ibid. An attemperament of both those indisposed Fancies before mentioned. pag. 355 The difference betwixt a wise and wild Love, consists in this: the one ever deliberated before it love; the other loves before it deliberate. ibid. Necessary Cautions for all kindhearted Gentlewomen. ibid. & 356. The like for all coy or coole-affected Gentlewomen. ibid. A sweet attemperament of both these humours: with an apt Emblem explained and properly applied, to such, as are with either of these humours distempered. pag. 357 GENTILITY. Observat. 7. GEntility, is derived from our Ancestors to us, but soon blanched, if not revived by us. pag 359 A persuasion to the imitation of our Ancestors virtues. pag. 360 There was nothing mortal about them but their bodies, and those were too frail Cabonets for such rich eminences to lodge in: whereas, there is nothing but frailties about ours, for lose and licentious love to lie in. ibid. Those Odours deserve highest honours, that beautify us living, and preserve our memory dying. ibid. To see a light Lady descending from a noble Family, is a Spectacle of more spreading infamy, than any Subject of inferior quality. ibid. Gentility, is not to be measured by antiquity of time, but precedency in worth. ibid. The reason why generous descents become so much corrupted; and virtuous Parents by vicious Children so frequently disparged. ibid. & 361 Mothers, the naturallest Nurses: confirmed by precept, custom, and example. pag. ibid. * Supra pag. 331, & 332 An effectual persuasion to that duty. ibid. Virtue the best Coat. pag. 362 Heraldry proves virtue's Coat to be the best, because deblazoned with least charge. Virtue is no admiring lover of aught that is below her. pag. 362 The misery of this age, in sumptuousness of attire. ibid. A notable example of hypocritical piety. pag. 363. Sin's prevention, is to prevent the Occasion. ibid. A Shamefast red the best colour to deblazon virtue's Coat. pag. 365 Gentlewomen are to reflect more on their inward worth, than on their outward wear. pag. 367 The honour of Humility. pag. 368 A glorious approval of modest Matrons. pag. 369 It will not redound much to a Gentlewoman's honour, to have observed the fashions of the time, but with a discreet Contempt or civil neglect of fashion, to have redeemed her time. pag. 370 Living actions of true Gentility, happy Precursors to the State of Glory. ibid. There are native seeds of goodness, sown in generous bloods by lineal succession: variously instanced. ibid. & 371 Those who are with the choicest virtues endowed, become oft times, most traduced. ibid. There is no one virtue which makes a Gentlewoman more gracious in the eye of her beholder, than Modesty, the greatest advancer of many ancient family. ibid. To be high borne and basely minded, is to engraft bastard sups in a noble stock. pag. 372 High and Heroic virtues become great Houses: confirmed by the resolution of a noble Lady, in rejecting the powerful solicitancy of a Sensual Suitor. ibid. Emulation of goodness in great Persons is honourable. ibid. How these native seeds of goodness may be ripened by instruction. pag. 373 No Tutresses sitter to perfect this excellent work in Gentlewomen, than those who were the secondary instruments of their being: strengthened by example and reason. ibid. A select Choice and recommendation of sundry books of instruction, to the perusal of our English Gentlewoman. ibid. A brief enumeration, serious discussion, and judicious election of sundry ancient Fathers, with other moral Authors. ibid. & 374 etc. English translations, the lights of Ladies, but Damps of Scholars. pag. 375 Private Nurseries, household Academies. ibid. The first instruction takes the deepest Impression; with an useful application to every condition. pag. 376. Necessary directions highly conducing to the good report and repute of Maids and Matrons. ibid. The most precious things have ever the most pernicious Keepers. Nothing more precious, than a Virgin's honour; it were a shame for the Mother for any base lucre, to prove a treacherous Keeper. ibid. The whole progress of a Gentlewoman's conversation should be a continued line of direction: to which line he confines his observation. pag. 377 HONOUR. Observat. 8. Promotion's discovers what men be, but true Honour shows what they should be. pag. 379 Honour is painted, when it is not with virtue powdered. pag. 380 Moral Philosophy, nor Christian Theory, could ever hold that for deserving greatness, which had not near relation to goodness. ibid. Their memory cannot live long, who make Authority a Sanctuary to wrong. ibid. Virtue defined, and by it true Gentility with the honour of an ancient family expressed. pag. 381 An accurate connexion with a personal application of the preceding Subjects, to all Gentlewomen. ibid. & 382 Be women never so eminent, they are but painted Trunks, if virtue be not resident. ibid. Virtue should not only be resident but precedent over all their actions. ibid. No Cloth takes such deep tincture, as the Cloth of Honour. ibid. No Pleasure can be constant, unless it afford inward content. ibid. There is nothing asperseth a deeper stain upon the Cloth of Honour, than too much attention unto Sycophants. ibid. Sovereign receipts against the poison of flattery; with a serious exhortation to the entertainment of humility, patience, constancy, and every generous virtue. ibid. & 383 Violets, though they grow low and near the earth, smell sweetest: and Honour appears the fullest of beauty, when she is humblest. ibid. Honour, if truly grounded, can look in the face of terror, and never be amated. pag. 384 She that makes virtue her object, cannot but make every earthly thing her Subject. ibid. Honour's imprezza and Pasture. ibid. Honour's complete armour, dress, and portraiture. ibid. HER Description, with motives to her imitation. ibid. A brief but useful application. ibid. Honourable Personages should be Precedents of goodness. ibid. LANDMARKS are usually erected for direction of the Mariner, and Magistrates elected for instruction of the inferior. ibid. The world, a Maze of Misery, a vale of vanity. Pag. 385 Man, a story of calamity, a statue of infelicity. Pag. 385 To be a Lady of Honour, is more than titular. ibid. Three especial Objects, upon which Honourable personages are to reflect: Charity. Pag. ibid. Chastity. Pag. ibid. Humility. Pag. ibid. A most accurate and serious discourse on each particular Object. pag. 385, & 386 The very last day to an honourable Christian, is every day's memorial. ibid. The actions of Noble Personages, like sweet odours, diffuse themselves by imitation to their followers. pag. 387 Those that are followers of their persons, will be followers likewise of their lives. ibid. Their private family is a familiar Nursery. ibid. Fowl enormities must admit of no Privileges: Eminent Persons are to be their own Censors. ibid. An excellent application, by way of Exhortation to all such honourable Censors. ibid. Virtue's are more permanent Monuments, than Statues, styles, trophies, or obelisks. ibid. Virtue or Vice, whethersoever takes hold first, retains a deeper impression in honour, than any lower Subject. ibid. In these, whom Nobility of blood hath advanced, be ever some seeds or semblances of their Progenitors retained. ibid. This confirmed by Philosophical reason and example; Precedent and Precept. pag. 288 Great minds are many times sick of great maladies: how this by timely prevention may be seasonably cured. ibid. The efficient cause, why Virtue or Vice, whethersoever takes hold first, retains a deeper impression in Honour, than in any lower Subject; illustrated by instance. ibid. First Motions have deep impressions; first Notions firm retentions. pag. 389 The greatest profit of Honourable personages, is to become Proficients in the practice of virtue; Their highest delight, to subdue their delights to the obedience of reason, for the love of virtue. ibid. The Corruption of time hath introduced that deformity of fashion, as it asperseth on our formal imitators much imputation. ibid. Where Youth is initiated in affectation of State, it partakes in age of too much Pride. ibid. The humour, temper, and danger of our Tame-Beasts, or State-Parasites. ibid. A reservancy of State in Pace, face, & every Posture, recommended by an insinuating Faun, to a Fantastic Gallant. ibid. Sycophancy the ruin of many a Noble family. ibid. An election of honest and discreet followers. ibid. Gentlewoman's lives, as they are lives to themselves, so should they be lights unto others. ibid. For Popular honour, Vice will but varnish it; it is Virtue that will richly enamel it. Singular motives to Mortification. pag. 390 That Virtue may receive the first impression, by means of an inbred noble disposition, seconded by helps of Education. ibid. A pleasant Epigram alluding to all humorous Ladies. Marg. pag. ibid. A Choice recollection and expression of such virtues as sort and suit with the condition of our noblest Ladies: with Cautions to attemper them in all extremes: by an useful reflection upon all the Senses; and those Commanding passions, which domineer most over the Senses. ibid. & 391 A Singular Meditation for recollection of our affections. pag. 391 & 392. Vice throws her aspersions o● no Subject, so much as on Honour. ibid. A fruitful application to all young Gentlewomen, for regulating their dispositions, and bow to make them true inheritrices of Honour. ibid. Virtue reduced to habit, aspires to perfection. pag. 393 There is nothing under heaven, that can satisfy a Soul created for heaven. ibid. Exquisite directions for Virgins, Wives, and Widows. ibid. & 394 We are to esteem no life sweeter, than when every day improves us and makes us better. ibid. A divine Contemplation, reflecting upon our mutability on Earth, our immortality in Heaven. ibid. & 395 A Review of our Lady's Court and City solace. ibid. Recreations run a Maze, while they lay their Scene of Mirth on Earth. ibid. A Twofold consideration full of sweet and select consolation. ibid. How happy many Eminent Personages had been, had they never been taken with this Shadow of happiness. ibid. No passage to the Temple of * Honour, but through the Temple of Virtue. * HONOUR virtutis praemium; VIRTUS honoris pretium. ibid. If Gentlewomen desire to be great, let it be their height of ambition to aspire to honour in the Court of virtue. ibid. What a brave Salic State shall Gentlewomen enjoy, when vigilancy becomes Warden of their Cinque Ports? pag. 395 Perseverance is the Crown of goodness. ibid. A constant resolution, the Diadem of a Christian in her dissolution. ibid. A Character, entitled; A Gentlewoman; wherein such an One is described, whose desert answers her descent; whose actions truly ennoble herself: with a brief touch or review of all his Observations; Which are shown to be Objects of her love, improvements of her life. An Appendix, upon a former supposed impression of this Title; wherein the Author's fears are suggested, discussed, and resolved: and his complete ENGLISH GENTLEWOMAN to as complete a GENTLEMAN espoused. Where they rejoice, like two tender Turtles, in their mutual triumph of Love and Honour, jointly combined. FINIS. WHat may be wished in Widow, Wife or Maid, Is in our Frontispiece to life portrayed: Who seeks for more, may thus much understand, She takes that feature from an Higher hand. Upon the Errata. TO describe an ENGLISH GENTLEWOMAN without an Error, were a glozing palpable Error; And to free her more than an ENGLISH GENTLEMAN of Error, were to incur a prejudicated Censure. Of both which, without farther apology, the Press hath saved me a labour: Yet reflect upon the weakness of her Sex, (whose purest Self dignifies her Sex) and the Subject will enjoin thee to hold it thine highest honour, to salve her Error with an ingenuous Candour. So mayst thou vindicate the Author, and by being a virtuous Lover, gain a most deserving Mistresses favour. PRELUM. Crimen Authores patiuntur omnes. PRAELIUM. TYPUS. Crimen Authores patiuntur omnes. CIPPUS. Errata In the ENGLISH GENTLEWOMAN. PAge 273. Flora nec Veris Speciosi fora Viridariis Punicis amaeniora. line 27. for Eber, read Ebor. pag. 274. l. 12. f. mortality, r. morality. pag. 276. l. 19 f. Balcone, r. Belcone. pag. 347. l. ult. f. and, r. an. pag. 349. l. 8. f. Anacrons, r. Anacreon's. pag. 361. l. 29. f. Phavorius, r. Phavorinus. pag. 383. l. 41. f. strinks, r. shrinks. HAd Woman, Man's choice succour, ne'er been Sinner, Pure as she's fair, she'd had no Error in her: Now, humble Soul, her Error to descry, She still retains the Apple in her eye. A LADIES LOVE-LECTURE: COMPOSED, AND FROM THE CHOICEST FLOWERS OF Divinity and Humanity Culled, and Compiled: As it hath been by sundry Personages of eminent quality, upon sight of some Copies dispersed, modestly importuned: To the memory of that Sex's honour; for whose sweet sakes he originally addressed this Labour. BY RI. BRATHWAIT Esquire. 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉. LONDON, Printed by JOHN DAWSON, 1641. TO THAT ABSOLUTE OWNER AND HONOUR OF DISCREET FANCY, Mris. ELIZABETH WESTBY. Mistress, REceive here with a Book, the real abstract of yourself. For in it, when you have read it, do but converse with your own thoughts, and you shall find yourself portrayed. Phidias could never with all his art, present a Masterpiece of such beauty, as virtue can do in drawing her line, & bestowing on it a modest blush to enliven fancy. These Idaea's are England's Cynthia's. You were sometimes pleased to peruse yourself shadowed in my Elegiac Poem; require this for a more lasting and living Emblem. Now, as to wish you what you already have, I need not: so to wish you more than you already have, I cannot: unless some new choice might accomplish his happiness that should attain it. Goodness is such a Dower, as no Maid can bring with her a better Portion; nor no Widow enfeoff herself in a fairer jointure. May you ever shine in these, which make a woman most eminent: while you leave me infinitely joying in enjoying the Title of Your affectionate Servant, RI. BRATHWAIT. THE STATIONER TO THE READER. AT the instancy of sundry persons of quality, to my knowledge, was this our Author induced to publish this Epitome; Extracted from the choicest flowers of fancy: But in such a compendious method and manner, as it may abide the test of the severest Censor; seeing all such light passages, taking life from the too loose Pens of Ariosto, Tasso, Baccace, Rheginus, Alcaeus, etc. are here omitted: lest the modest ears of those Beauties, at whose request and to whose bequest this Epitome or Love-enlectured Lady, was addressed, might be offended by such affected levity. Entertain it as thou shalt reap profit by it: Farewell. A LADIES LOVE-LECTURE: STORED With all variety of ingenious Morality: Extracted from the choicest flowers of Philosophy, Poesy, ancient and modern History. And now published At the instancy of sundry persons of quality. Ovos conspicui lumina Phoebi. The excellency of Women in their Creation. SECTION I. HOwsoever that divine Plato, whose very infancy presaged many fair expressions of his future maturity; definitely professed, that he had, amongst many other blessings which the Gods had bestowed on him, greatest cause of all others to give them thanks for three things: First was, for that they had made him a reasonable Creature, and no Beast: Second was, for civilising him a Grecian, and no Barbarian: Thirdly, in making him a Man, and no Woman: yet did he sometimes ingenuously confess the necessity of them in winding up all his humane felicity in these four particulars; So I may have (said he) eyes to read, my mind to conceive what I read, my memory to conserve what I have conceived and read, and a woman to serve me at my need; should adversity assail me, it should not foil me; should an immerited disgrace lie heavy on me, it should not amate me; should my endeared friends forsake me, by enjoying myself thus in mine own family; I should laugh at the braves of fortune; account reproach my repute: and partake in the free society of so sweet and select a friend within me, as no cloud without me could perplex me. Here was a brave Philosophical resolution! He could see nought on earth, that could divert his thoughts from the contemplation of Heaven; provided, that he enjoyed that on earth, which made his earth seem a second Heaven. Some are of opinion, indeed, that he had perused the Mosaical Law, and that he bestowed much time in it, during his reside with his dear friend Photion in Cilicia. No marvel then, if he found there the excellency of their Creation: with their primary office or designation. Being made helps for man: and so intimate to man, as she took her mould from man, as man his model from mould. Yea, but she was made of a rib, will some say, and that implied a crooked condition. No; but rather thus, A rib is bending, which presupposed her pliable disposition. And if that ancient Philosophical Maxim hold good:" That the temperature of the soul follows the temperature of the body; we must necessarily conclude, that, as their outward temperature and composure is more delicate: so their inward affections must be more purely refined. No violent passion so predominant, which their mild temper cannot moderate; provided, that they be seasoned with grace, which makes them proficients in all spiritual growth. For a quick unsanctified wit is a mere pery for the Devil: whereas wits accompanied with humility, make their privatest Soliloquies to converse with actions of glory. These, and only these retain in memory the object and end of their creation. And as those affectionate Sabines called their wives their Penates, their Household Gods, through that incomparable comfort they conceived in them, and benefits they derived from them: So are these Domi-portae, Damae-portae, delitiae horti, as that witty Epigrammatist was sometimes pleased to enstile them, the choicest Sociates of humane Solace: So as; if the world were to be held a Wilderness without society, it might justly despair of that comfort without their company. Whence it is, that the wise man concludeth; Without a woman would the house mourn. When that Delphic Oracle had told that flourishing and▪ victorious state; that her many triumphs and trophies should not secure her; nor her numerous ports so enrich her; nor that confidence she reposed in her powerful Allies privilege her: For the very beautifullest City she had, her sole magnificent Metropolis, whose present glory aspired to the Clouds, should labour of her own providence, and inter her honour in the dust; if they did not by sprinkling the purest dust that earth could afford, upon their profaned Altars, expiate her guilt, and appease their wrath. A strong and serious consultation being forthwith taken; they advised amongst themselves which might be the purest and most precious dust; but so many men, so many minds. For the Earthworm, who made Gold his God, and that Dust his Deity: held none to be purer than the soil or dust of gold. Others held, that none was purer than the dust of that Copper whereof the Athenians had made the pictures of the two Tyrants, Armodius and Aristogyton: because their death gave life to the state; their dust recovered their country's fame. Others held Ebony, because the most continuate Monument of humane memory, and monumental Emblem of his mortality. Others held Ivory, because an Emblematical Mettle of purity. While one, whose opinion was delivered last, though his judgement appeared best, freely imparted himself to them, taxing them all of error. For, saith he, it is not the powder, dust or ashes of any material shrine that can be possibly any way propitious to the gods: as the enormity of our losses hath incensed them, so must the ashes of some living sacrifice appease them. My opinion then is positively this: The ashes of some undefiled virgin must be sprinkled on their Altar, if we mean to preserve our state and honour. This experience hath confirmed long since so highly useful, as we may read what eminent states had perished; how their glory had been to dust reduced; nay, their very names in oblivion closed, and with dishonour clothed, had not the fury of the incensed gods been pacified, and by offertories of this nature attoned. This might be instanced in those sacrifices of Iphigenia, Hesyone, Mariana, with many others: whose living memory raised itself from dust, in so free and voluntary offering themselves to the stake, to deliver their endangered state; confirming their country-love with the loss of their dearest life. Search then no further, ye Conscript Fathers, how to appease their wrath; Virgin ashes cannot but be the purest dust of Earth. Whose sacred vows, as they are dedicated to Vesta, who cannot admit her Temple to be profaned by any impure touch: So has she conferred such an excellent privilege on a virgin state; as the fierce untamed Unicorn, when nothing can bring him to subjection, nor attemper the madding fury of his disposition: as if he had quite put off his nature, and assumed another temper, he will be content mildly to sleep in the lap of a Virgin; and in eyeing her, alloy his passion. With joint voice and vote all the Ephori inclined to his opinion: which so well appeased those divine furies, as their state, before by the Oracle so highly menaced, became secured; their Altars, which were before profaned, purged: and those pollutions, whereof their City laboured, clearly expiated. These poetical Fictions, though they easily pass by the ear, yet they convey by a moral application, an Emphatical impression to the heart. For hence might be divinely concluded: There is nothing comparably precious to a continent soul: Nothing of so pure nor precious esteem, as a virgin state. And that a woman, being the weaker vessel, when she either in her virgin-condition remains constant, or in her conjugal state loyal, she so much more enlargeth her glory, as her Sex or condition partakes more of frailty. But to divert from these; eye her in the Excellency of her Creation you shall find her in her quality, an helper; in her society, a comforter; in the perplexities of her consort, a counsellor; and in all these, a sharer. Had her beauty no other embellishment, it were a moving object to entertain a loving consort: But when inward ornaments accomplish that beauty, what a sweet perpetual harmony runs descant on their society? This makes a private family an earthly paradise. No frays within, no fears without: no illimited passion raging either within or without. The reason is, she discreetly considers for what end she was created: and addresseth the whole course of her affairs to accomplish that for which she was created. In eyeing herself in the glass, she admires not her own beauty; but his goodness, who bestowed on her so graceful an image of Fancy not to win others unto lightness, but to wain others by her example from the paths of looseness; and by her pattern of piety, decline them from vanity, by chalking them forth a way to conduct them to happiness. SECTION II. Their imitable virtues, illustrated with examples. NO discourse more prevalent to goodness, than what is illustrated by examples. On dark nights the least star shows her glory: which if it darted forth his lustre by day, would not be discovered so easily. Then is goodness most improved, when the indisposition of the time does least approve it. Those four Cardinal virtues, whereon all others have and hold a necessary dependence; are compared by that devout and divine father, Saint Ambrose, to those four rivers which issued from the four borders of the Garden of Paradise: And of these imitable virtues, we shall find women such incomparable professors, as their actions deserve imitation and admiration. How prudently did Artemisia and Zenobia, Thomyris and Penthesilea demean themselves in the mannagement of their affairs whether public or private! They might worthily take up the saying of that discreet contemplative Roman:" they were never less alone, then when alone. For these when they were left to themselves, they were not left either less feared or loved. These held up their states so wisely; disposed of their counsels so discreetly; governed their people with fear and love so equally: managing all their actions with those prudential grounds of policy; as their Allies loved them, their enemies feared them: none about them, but did honour them, desiring nothing more than to enter into a firm and inviolable league with them. So just likewise they were in all affairs of judicature; that if those days were accounted happy wherein Basill the Emperor of Constantinople lived (and worthily might they be so esteemed) for that whensoever he came to his judgement seat, he neither found party to accuse, nor defendant to answer: no less memorable were those Halcyon days of theirs; when litigious Appellants were so handled, that if they commenced any suit without just ground, they were to pay to the Defendant double costs, to the public state a mulct, and receive a personal disgrace: being disabled ever after to bear any public office, or be employed in any Military or Civil state-service. Worthy indeed, of high commendations was the answer of that invincible Alexander to his Mother, who transported with passion (as what humane condition but subject to such affections) being desirous to execute an innocent harmless man, the better to prevail with him, and the more impressively to work on him, remembered him that herself for the space of nine months had carried him in her womb, fed him with the substance of herself, and for that reason he must not say her nay. Ask (saith he) good mother, some other gift of me: The loss of a man's life can be recompensed with no benefit. And no less wisely did the Empress admonish her husband; when, without ever examining or discussing the quality of the crime, he was ready to pronounce the judgement of death upon a delinquent; who, for aught he knew, might appear innocent. O, quoth she, leave your game at Tables, and look into the Tables of Moses, and you will find how unjust it is to execute before you examine, to condemn before you advise. So temperate too, were many eminent women both ancient and modern, as they dis-relished nothing more than inconsiderate passion. That discreet and well-composed speech of Architas is much commended, who being angry with one of his Hinds, said, O how would I have beaten thee, had I not been angry with thee! And no less deserving approvement was that noble Lady's assertion:" So far aliened hitherto have my thoughts been from any predominant distemper, as I have choosed rather to give way unto death; then an indiscreet anger. Whence it was, that noble Biscoy, no less happy in his wife's virtues, than his many victories; avouched: That though he had foiled all his assailants, he could never yet foil his wife's patience. Whereas, that girl was quit of all other humour, whom, when her husband found her one day, all off th' hinges; demanded of her, what had displeased her? answered, because she saw nothing that could displease her. What excellent tempers many of their Sex have shown, if we would insist on examples, or enlarge our discourse with variety of instances; we might find both our Greek and Roman Annals stored with such choice and select flowers, as we should more easily find arguments of admiration than imitation. For many of these acted the parts of rare Philosophers: knowing how to be silent in prosperity, patient in adversity, in neither of these to show a distempered quality; in either of these to express motive arguments of Philosophy. In their discourse, they could argue without bitterness; in their habit, go neatly without niceness; in the whole manage of their affairs, live purely without affectedness. Tell me, says one, with whom thou conversest, and I will tell thee who thou art. This made them cautious with whom they consorted; lest others conversation might make them suspected. Those light examples of julia, Posthumia, and Semphronia deterred them from conversing with any that might corrupt them. These had not only perused but practised that Arabian Proverb:" To shut their five windows, that their house might give light. These windows were their senses; which, when they become most opened, the house of the mind becomes most darkened. These therefore, must be closed, that their inner house may be cleared. And this hath our Christian Philosophy in an exacter manner and fuller measure taught us: Bern. As fire and water will not sort well together: no more will heavenly and earthly delights ever strike in one harbour. These have drawn their resolutions to this period, Anselm. and happy they in so glorious period: If the flames of hell were on the one side, and sin on the other side, they would rather lie in those flames then sin. Nor have their Sex shown less excellence in their fortitude of spirit: preferring their fame before life; their honour before the utmost extremes of death, danger or disaster. This that Epicaria, a Roman libertine, and a vindicator of Rome's liberty; This that Leaena, that courageous revenger of Hippeas' tyranny confirmed; when no torments could amate them; no objects of terror or torture amaze them: when the one chus'd rather to spit out her tongue, than spite her country by disclosing the revengers of her wrong; the other to be torn by wild beasts, then make that tender bosom of her native country, a receipt for tame beasts. Here were virile spirits clothed with womanly habits. Their minds were better composed, then to give way to an effeminate passion, when they beheld their endeared Country suffer in her reputation. Thus did their noble Sex show Prudence without singularity; justice without partiality; Temperance with modesty; Fortitude in those amicable expressions to their country. SECTION III. Their moderation of passion. ALthough we have discoursed of this subject before, in our treaty of Temperance: yet to amplify this point; we shall find, that there is no passion, whereto by reason of our humane frailty we are most inclined, which we shall not observe by imitable Mirrors of this Sex to be strangely attempered, nay subdued. And first, to begin with what worketh strongliest upon our weak conditions: Revenge; which may reflect, by a proper and genuine division upon these three distinct objects, Life, Fame, Fortunes. For the first, how bravely could that Noble Spartan Lady, when she was staged upon the Scaffold, to receive the stroke of death, beckon to her injurious Accuser; with a mild and graceful aspect advertise him of the wrongs he had done her: wishing him to lay his hand on his heart, and make his peace seasonably with the Gods! For my life, quoth she, as it is of little use to the State, so I less prise it in regard I can benefit my Country smally by it. Trust me, I pity more the endangering of your inward peace, than the loss of my life. This may be redeemed by an Elysian freedom; yours never to be prevented but by perpetual sorrowing. Indeed I lose my friends, but these are without me. But you should have a nearer friend within you, from whose sweet amity and amiable familiarity if you should once sever, (hear the last breathing words of a dying woman) you are lost for ever. So easily did she remit that wrong which cost her life. With what moderation did that triumphant Thomyris bear the death of her son! A feminine passion could not extract from her well-tempered eyes one tear: nor from her resolved heart one sigh. She knows how to shadow passion with a cloud; and immaske the design of a future revenge with the whitest veil. She chooseth rather to perish in herself, then do aught unworthy of herself. She could put on a countenance of content, when she heard how her son had paid to nature her debt, though in a reflection to his youth, before his time. I was his mother, and he is now returned to her, who is mother to us both. If I loved him too much while he lived with me, I will make satisfaction for that error, by bemoaning his loss the less, now when he has left me. But I find her moderation in this object, amongst all others most imparalleled; which I the rather here insert, because she was a rare Phoenix both in our time and clime: A woman nobly descended, richly endowed, which by her practice of piety and works of mercy became highly improved. She, when she understood how passionately and disconsolately her noble Husband took the death of his daughter whom he infinitely loved; (for her promising infancy gave apparent arguments of succeeding maturity: (made it one of her constantest tasks to allay his passion; and by playing the part of a faithful and discreet Consort, expostulates with the grounds of his immoderate sorrow in this manner: How is it Sir, that your wisdom should thus forget itself? Is it any newer thing to die then to be borne? Are we here placed to survive fate? Or here planted to plead a privilege against death? Is our daughter gone to any other place, then where all our predecessors have gone to? Yea, but you will say, She died in her blooming youth; before the infirmities of a decrepit age came upon her! The more was she bound to her Maker. The fewer her years, the lesser her cares, the fewer her tears. Take upon you then something more of man; and partake less of woman. These comforts which I make bold to apply to you, might be more seemingly derived to me by you. To grieve for that which is remediless, argues weakness; and not to prevent what admits a probability of cure, implies carelessness. Let us neither be too effeminatly weak in the one; nor too securely remiss in the other: so may we cure the one with patience, and redeem the other by a timely diligence. For the next Object reflecting upon their Fame: Nicetas says plainly, No punishment so grievous as shame. And Nazianzen yet more expressly; Better were a man die right-out, than still live in reproach and shame. Ajax being ready to dispatch himself, used these as his last words; No grief doth so cut the heart of a generous and magnanimous spirit, as shame and reproach. For a man to live or die is natural: Ambros. Epist. 70. but for a man to live in shame and contempt, and to be made a laughingstock of his enemies, is such a matter as no well-bred and noble-minded man, that hath any courage or stomach in him, can ever digest it. And yet bravely-spirited Leonida, slighted those Assailants of her fame with no less disrespect than her foes sought to blemish it. I am more confident of my fame, said she, then to suspect how any light tongue should impeach it. Nor was that virtuous Clareana less resolute, who directing her speech to her Accusers; told them; her fame was so far distanced beyond the reach of their impeaching; as it ingenuously pitied the weakness of their detraction. This confirmed the resolution of that noble patron; who occasionally used these words in a grave and great assembly: No woman's fame could privilege itself from a dangerous ●aint, if it were in hazard to suffer or lose itself by a poisonous tongue. For the last but least, which is Fortune: Many Heroic spirits have we had of this Sex, who so far dis-esteemed this outward rind, (for no other title would they deign to bestow on it) as one of them freely professed:" What matter is it, whether I be rich or poor, so my mind be pure? And these instances are not so rare, but we may find another of the same sex, to second so virtuous and accomplished a sister. The poorest thing on earth, is to suffer ones enlivened thoughts to be fixed on earth. And we have a third to make up a consort. She is of a weak command, who submits her thoughts to the command of fortune. And this a Quaternion of brave resolved spirits expressed, in delivering the nobleness of their thoughts in these proper imprezes'; which with their Diamonds they left writ in the panes of their own chamber windows: The device of the first was this: It is not in the power of fate, To weaken a contented state. And the second scorns to fall short of her resolution: Fortune may sundry Engines find, But none to raze a noble mind. The third in contempt of Fortune, enlargeth this subject: Should Fortune me distress, My mind would be no less. The fourth, to show her affection true Toutch, attests her constancy in this: Fate may remove Life, but not love. Thus have we shown their sprightly tempers in their contempt of all oppositions that might assail or assault them: Life they slighted, being in competition with honour. Fame, though it was too high a prize to lose, yet being not conscious to themselves of any stain, they neglected with a graceful scorn the irregular liberty of a loose tongue. And for Fortunes, they stood so indifferent, as they held Content their Crown; and that Crown the absolutest embellishment of an enfranchised mind. SECTION FOUR Their continency in assaults. NOble spirits cannot choose but prefer that most, which incomparably adorns them most. Though the Case give an outward beauty to the Instrument; yet it is the Instrument gives the harmony to the Case, or all were out of case. Now if creatures, who never were endowed with Reason: and whose highest desires confined themselves to Sense, so much abhorred a community in the use of their Sex, or an incestuous commixture of Seed in their generations of one kind: How much more, those, who have captivated their Sense to Reason, and known what it was to give reins to unbounded liberty; or slave their inward freedom to the weakly recompensed service of vanity? For man, who as he is the noblest creature, and accomplished best with those choicest ornaments of grace to beautify so Princely a feature: so is he to discover some impressions of the dignity of his nature, by living so on earth, as after earth he may live for ever. O how hateful it is, for a Beast to be liker Man, than Man to himself! For Beast to partake of Man, while Man partakes no less of Beast! Lust, says that Ambrosian Father, is detestable to brute beasts and Savages. The loving Turtle forsakes her lawn, Ambros. lib. 1. de Abrahamo. and disesteemes life, when she has lost her love. On no green branch will she perch; no cheerful air will she breathe; no new comfort will she entertain. A retired melancholy is her affected melody: Privacy is her mansion; remotest shades close best with her disposition. The Porphyrio, or Purple Cout, cannot endure to repair to his nest, after that he finds it stained with an adulterous foot: yet so loving is he to his own, as he scorns to take any unworthy revenge of his Make, but by an incessant passion of continued grief, to wove out the web of his woes, and so dispatch himself. It is reported of the Camel, that they usually hoodwink him, when at any time they bring his mother unto him: which act (observe this incestuous hate) he no sooner knows, than he tramples her under his feet, and kicks her to death with his heels. So egregiously hateful is incest, even to brute Beasts, whose native instinct abhors such obscene commixtures. Nay, to present to your eyes the spleenful disposition of some creatures; who, to revenge their abused Loves, have retained a memory above their quality, to expedite their intended tragedy. This might be instanced in that memorable example of Crathis; who dwelling in the town of Sybaris, so monstrously, and unnaturally raged in the heat of immoderate lust; as on a time neglecting all humanity, to extinguish the violent flames of his bestial affection, came to a She-Goate, and coupled with her: which, the He-Goate as one seeing, yet reserving revenge for a fitter time, found the said Crathis one day fast asleep: upon presentment of which opportunity, to revenge the injury of his corrupted love, and revenge the horror of his detested lust, he presently fell upon him, and malled him to death with his horns. By these, you shall collect, how Myrrah never looks better, then when Mya stands beside her: and how the preciousest Gems show ever in the darkest places their fairest lustre. Ladies we have here, who are so far from a light assent, as they scorn to admit a weak assault: Sir T. O. which confirms the judgement of that nobly-accomplished, though unfortunate Gentleman: In part to blame is she that has been tried, He comes too near, that comes to be denied. This that noble minded Lady Armenia expressed; who being solemnly invited to King Cyrus' wedding, went thither with her husband. At night when those royal rites had been solemnised, and they returned, her husband asked her, how she liked the Bridegroom, whether upon perusal of him she thought him to be a fair and beautiful Prince or no? Truth, says she, I know not: for all the while I was forth, I cast mine eyes upon none other, but upon thyself. Those receiving portells of her Senses, were shut against all foreign intruders: She had made a moral league with her loyal eyes, to fix on no unlawful beauty; lest her surprised eye might engage her to folly. Nor could these hold it to stand with their repute, either to hear, or conceive aught that might worthily trench upon their husband's fame, or redound to his reproach. One of Hiero's enemies, finding nothing else in him, whereby he might revile him, or asperse disgrace upon him; reproaching him with a stinking breath: went home and questioned his wife why she told him not thereof? who answered, she thought all men had the like savour. This confirms that Maxim of divine Plato: The lover is ever blinded with affection towards his beloved. But to enlighten the beauty of this Subject with one exquisite and imparalleled example, for all; bestow your eyes upon Chiomara, wife of Orgiagon, a petty King of that Province, upon discomfiture of the Gallo-Gracians, being ravished by a Roman Captain, gave a memorable pattern of conjugal virtue, and sponsall continency: for She cut off the fellow's head from his shoulders, and escaping from her Guard, brought it to her Lord and Husband. We might enlarge this discourse by illustrious examples derived from the continence of those Dalmatian and Sabine Ladies: who preferred their honour before life; holding nothing in more contempt then loose love. That Princely care which Darius wife and his daughters had to preserve their highly-valued honour: and how much their care was cherished by that universal Conqueror. And though youth matched with age, ofttimes begets distracted thoughts, yet might we produce instances, not only in the survey of foreign States; but even within our native borders: how fresh-blooming youth, unequally affianced to hoary age, has borne itself so free from scandal, that, though they might profess themselves vestal Virgins at the funeral of their Husbands; yet so cautious were they to decline shame, as their modest thoughts scorned to incline to a prohibited embrace of sin. Albeit, I must ever close in opinion with the Poet: There's nothing does more dully move In fancy's Orb, than aged love. Age then, with an ingenuous acknowledgement of his own strength, should not fully such prime redolent blossoms with an earthy touch. Yet if old age must dote (as 'tis too common) That age suits better with the man then woman. Thus have you heard how continent this weaker Sex has been in their assaults: how constant in their resolves: how ready to encounter with the extremes of death and danger, rather than impaune that incomparable gage of their honour. Love was the line by which they were directed; Fame the aim to which they aspired: and Honour the centre wherein they closed. SECTION V. Their modesty in Countenance, Habit, and expression of affection. IT is true;" Nothing deserves less credit than the Look. Yet in candid and ingenuous natures, it appears much otherwise. For these cannot disguise their Countenance with a counterfeit appearance. These are they, who make their face an Index to their mind. They cannot walk in the clouds with Tibur●ia: nor adulterate their cheeks with a false blush; nor cast forth taking lures from their eyes. These are what they seem: and, as to seem less than they are; would tax them of weakness: so to seem more than they are; would evince them of arrogance. To avoid then these two hazards: they desire to have their thoughts legible in their eyes. These be far distanced from the conceit of that wanton: who, with a presuming confidence affirmed: That she could catch more with her eyes, than others could with their embraces. But such as these, are such professed Traders in the merchandise of honour; as they merit no esteem in the eye of goodness: For as these cloth their actions with habiliments of splendid sin: so they close, for most part, their light spun Scene with apparent shame. These then, we resolve to leave behind us: addressing our pen to such virtuous patterns as are ranked before us: And such, whose modest countenance scorns to entertain the least acquaintance, either with scorn or too much smoothness; lest the one might imply pride, the other lightness. These cannot endure to partake of their despicable condition, who can show an open-house, but retain a shut countenance. They have hospitality in the one, as well as the other: and to a virtuous Lover, have ever in readiness a prepared harbour. I cannot remember, said that modest Matron; that I have suffered mine eyes to stray from me: nor to hunt after foreign Suitors, to bring them home to me. I have not eyed that face, since I was married, which could either so take me, as to prefer it before his, who had best title to me; nor so delude me, as to beget in my thoughts a glowing fancy; and so corrupt me, by admiring a strange beauty. No doubt, but that princely Surveyor of his daughter's dispositions, Augustus; could gather well enough by julias' light looks, as well as her loose Consorts, what received freest entertainment in her heart: as he might, to his comfort, collect what virtuous thoughts accompanied his Livia, by observing those stayed looks and modest countenance, which bestowed an incomparable addition on her virgin beauty. Piety, as it receives scandal from the countenance; and Chastity treason from the eye, by conveying treacherous thoughts to the heart: so Modesty runs many times on hazard by the outward habit. All gorgeous attire is held the attire of sin. Being such as is either worn above our rank; or by a garish and fantastic effeminacy, to introduce that broad spreading Tetter of vanity, or looseness of folly into the State. That simple old woman, belulled with a sleepy zeal, had a mind to go toth' Church, purposely to take a nap: and many of our dainty ones, desire nothing more, then to go to the Temple, to present to a deluded eye a new dress. O the frenzy of humane vanity, when the Sanctuary cannot plead privilege from this self admiring Idolatry! It is a true position; As to lust makes one a sinner, so he falls into the same List who has a desire to be lusted after. Modesty then, as it is the decent'st dress for a Virgin, much more for a reverend Matron; whose demure look; unaffected gate; civil habit should return a precedent unto others; how to conform themselves to the time without affectation: and how to demean themselves in the whole progress of their life, as may deserve a virtuous imitation. These, as they retain a loyal heart: so they affect a civil habit. They have no lures for light eyes. These mould their course to the example of that religious-noble widow: Who, after the death of her truly honoured and endeared Lord, could neither in the habit of her person; nor furniture of her Chamber, admit of any other colour, but the Sable livery of a Mourner. And being one day demanded by a complete Courtier; whose sense consisted most in scent, why she would not put off that sullen-cloudy habit; seeing it was high time for her rather to think of a new choice, then still to confine herself to that disconsolate recluse. O Sir, replied she, though my Husband's Funerals were long since solemnised on earth: yet shall they be ever in solemnising with me so long as I am on earth. This habit, me thinks, so infinitely becomes me; as I should not look like myself should I put any other on me. Neither can I hold this funeral room a disconsolate Recluse, Cogitate quotidie moriturum, & nunquam de s●cundis nuptiis cogitabis. Hier. Tom. 1. ep. ad Furn. p. 85. as you please to style it: for, trust me Sir, I conceive more absolute comfort in it, by remembering his person whom sometimes I enjoyed in it: then if all that various affluence of your courtly pleasures should accompany it; for by enthralling myself to these, I should become less myself, by depriving my widow-thoughts of those Soule-solacing soliloquies, and sweet aspirations I enjoy in it. Excellent was the Answer of that Heroic Stranger; who being asked why she addressed not herself to the habit of our country: Because, quoth she, I can find no constancy in the habit of your country: you affect foreign fashions so much, as it implies you dis-affect your own: why should I then accommodate myself to yours, who have none of your own? The way then to preserve opinion is, in our choice of habit, to admire no selfe-affected fashion. We have choicer ornaments to beautify us, than those whose outward splendour highly detracts from that inward beauty which should truly accomplish us. Now, in our Expression of affection; which requires a great measure of discretion; we shall find a rare temperance in the feminine Sex. These could shadow their reserved loves with a discreet secrecy: and with an absolute command of what soveraignizeth most over that Sex, decline apparent grounds of jealousy. That modest Mytilene confidently maintained: That she had rather cease to live, then surcease to love: yet would she rather in exile live, then discover her exiled love. It argues, indeed, a modest policy, to reserve our affections to ourselves; yet not so long, as to deprive us of the means to enjoy those whom we love equally as ourselves. Delay giveth way to corrivals: Fabius Maximus, indeed, won by delaying, but delay seldom speeds so well in our Assay of loving: and yet, to see a declining Chrone, who had lived long enough to number her days; and whose aged furrows had returned a numerous Arithmetic of expended years; play the wanton in a lovesick expression, could not choose but beget more sensible motives of derision than affection. Vt laqueariae pulsant inertia, Feles aniles ineunt consortia, O vos lepiduli pereunt Acredulae, Alta nam coeli vela ruentia. Eheu! Antipodes mutârunt oras, Nos illis, nobis tribuere suas. This suits well with that old prediction: When age casts her slough, and takes on her youth, When old chrones breed young bones and are swelling, Th' Antipodes here, and we to their sphere, Must both in a year change our dwelling. There be other inducements too, which are of force to re-tardate affection: and these are such holding Remora's, as we cannot possibly sail fairly, nor arrive safely, nor partake the fruition of our hopes freely, nor enjoy our freedom fully, so long as these distance us from the object of our fancy. I would be, said that discreet Lover, individually tied to thee, but that one tie divides me from thee. And what was this, but that lineal tie of consanguinity, which restrained them from the tie of conjugal fancy? This legal tie of honour, that Amorist more elegantly expressed in this manner: Had you the beauty of Helena, the presence of Cleopatra, the spirit of Penthesilea, those endowments of Zenobia, those fortunes of Nicaula, the majesty of Sophonisba, those melting kisses, moving embraces of Myrrah; And that my own fancy should make choice of you for my Bride, yet have we● a Mother that would forbid the banes. That sacred bond of the Church, divided him from his choice. Love must hold a distance, where devotion will not admit of the alliance. In this Expression of affection; what may seem boldness in the woman; may comply well with the quality of the man. If there were bashfulness on both sides, love might hold a perpetual progress, and to her Palace of pleasure, never be admitted to have access. Yet to veil both with more modesty, and Phidias-like, draw a more artful curtain to shroud fancy with more reserved privacy; Lovers use to supply this expression with the office of their pen: which, as it cannot blush, so it can usually more amply enlarge itself by writing; then the perplexed Secretary may in modesty do by discoursing. And to return a precedent of this (because Subjects of this nature are best graced, when grounded on examples) I shall here propose the conceit of one, who both for state, stile and subject may well deserve, not only your approbation but imitation in this kind. Lines used to be those lights, A presidentall Love-letter. which gave direction and access to the seat of love. But where constancy of affection seconds a profession of Zeal; that Mistress was accounted too remorseless; who entertained not his suit with a promising smile, and confirmed not that smile with a pleasing consent. Honours, fortunes, all, have been already prostrate. Yourself made the sole object, without the least reflex to any by-respect. Nothing could be proposed, that might render you satisfaction, which was not embraced with a firm and loyal affection. To close with your desires, was the crown of my content. This was my highest ambition. For, had present fortunes power to have withdrawn me, or possibility to have overwrought me, or the fair and free tenders of powerful Allies to have prevailed with me▪ believe it, Dearest, I might long before this time have fixed and planted my choice on an object of fancy: But how selectly and sincerely I have reserved myself for you, since those ample demonstrances of that graceful and affectionate favour received from you, I will appeal to any candid or equal relatour in the world. O spin then no longer time! Mutual be our consents, as they expect mutually immutable joys. Tell me, Dear one, were it not better to be fixed then daily removing? Fix on your own condition. Though your affable and humble nature, which highly improves your honour, may beget in you this incomparable temper; if you would please but to recollect your discreeter and more compose● thoughts, you should find great distinction betwixt this fixed and that your present unsettled condition. This may suit well with some disposition, but me thinks it should not poise evenly in the scale of your discretion. Some may, happily, feed their hopes with A day will come; now were it not more happiness to you, to see that day shine upon your own: wherein the world may have cause to bless you, both Church and commonwealth be improved by you, and yourself amply partake in those living comforts, which derive their birth and breath from you? Let me receive one line, for a link to combine this love. As it shall infinitely transport me in the perusal, so it shall incomparably solace you in the happy consummation of that nuptial, which shall confirm me, Legally and loyally yours. Thus you see what expressions deliver themselves with most modesty, when the pen becomes their Secretary. And how unbeseeming an Orator Love is, when she woos with too bold a face. Hence you may collect; what beauty accompanies a bashful look; what an attractive fancy to a modest eye, derives itself from a civil dress: And how entire love is best expressed, when with crimson blushes most depressed. These beget in a discreet temper more favour, than a leering look, a wanton habit, or light expression shall ever recover. SECTION VI Their violence upon such as were corrivals in their choice. HIs judicious observation closeth equally with our experience; who said:" The best things becoming ill, ever prove worst. An evil man is the worst of all creatures; an evil Christian the worst of all men; an evil professor the worst of all Christians. A woman, though she be a delicate creature, and, in her own proper condition, of a sweet nature; yet in one respect she may be resembled to the juniper, which once kindled, will hardly be quenched. No fury to be compared to the anger of a woman; which is aggravated or attempered according to the quality of the wrong wherewith she holds herself injuried. It is said of the River * Or Himellaz a rivet of high esteem with the Sabines, called Ismene. Himetus; that it distreames or divides itself into two Channels: which send forth waters of different natures. The one is sweet and pleasing: the other brackish and dis-relishing. We may properly apply this divided Current to our present subject: by imagining a woman to this River; as she is compared in an higher Hieroglyphic, & of a more enlivened nature. And in this Allusion, let us conceive these two Channels variously streaming, to those two distinct affections soveraignizing over her, and in her severally working. These two similising or discording passions shall borrow the names of Love and Hate. In both which we may properly call most of our women Silla's daughters; than whom none ever showed more love to his friend, nor more hate to his enemy. And to discourse more amply of these; we shall find some kind hearts dispatch their husbands by loving too much: others, mere Antipodes to the former, by loving them too little: This might be instanced in Lucia and Lucilla; Livia and julia. Two of these never held themselves so happy, as when their husbands were in presence; the other two ever held nuptial love at such a distance; as they were never more discontented than when they were present. Dark seemed the house when their husbands were in it: O noxlonga! Hor. cleared was that Cloud, when their husbands had left it. Whereas those two other loyal Dames, expressed themselves true Theogena's; who so tendered her Agathocles, as she showed admirable constancy, in her husband's greatest misery: professing herself most his own, when he was relinquished, and forsaken of his own. But this revenge, whereon we insist in this Section; proceeds for most part from grounded jealousy, or too exuberant fancy: which will admit willingly of no Corrival; but if it do, the issue generally becomes tragical. Our Italian theatres have at all times reeked with these bloody issues; which both in those Admirable Histories, long since published: and in that subject entitled, God's revenge against Murder; lately revived, and as I conceive from the former partly extracted, are copiously handled. Ancient times had their hands imbrued in these crimes. Their dye was as deep; though their fact seemed less, in regard they were not so conscientious of what they did. Hippolytus was guiltlessly murdered by a woman. Hercules' poisoned by a woman. Candaules poniarded by means of a woman. Yet examine these in a direct line, and you shall find all these perishing through too much love. They could not inflict that torment upon their Lovers, which they themselves would not suffer, by designing themselves their own Tormentors. Though Phaedra's love to Hippolytus were incestuously grounded; and that unlawful heat so impetuously enforced, as it could not be restrained, till it was with blood assuaged: yet herself became the sacrifice to expiate her lovesick malice. And for Deianira, how constant she was in her affection: how loyal in her love: how inviolable her vow: the Tragedian will return you a fair account: and acquit her of all suspicion, by the discovery she made unto Nessus, of her affection. That shirt which was given her by treacherous Nessus, was intended to increase, as she thought, a more vehement love in her Hercules. Lastly, for Candaules wife, her shameful, and too naked discovery unto Gyges, justly exposed his person to those miseries which he suffered: for the injury done to her modesty, was the only occasion to hasten his tragedy. Now, I must confess, we have had in all ages savage Monsters, as well as civil Matrons. And these of Messalina's race; who would not stick to quench the heat of their lust in the Actor's blood. Others no less cruel, but in their affections more loyal. And these had Servants, but they could not endure to have them retainers to many Mistresses. This begot tears in their eyes, but stings in their hearts. Too much love quickened their revenge. Wronged Fancy transformed itself into a fury. This may confirm that passionate admiration of that Heroic Tragedian: How sharply stings a woman's discontent! Now there is no inducement more motive to give wings to this passion, then matches contracted with distaste: proceeding either from disparity of years, or descent: which many times works sundry distractions: and begets several beds before their honey month be well ended. When Maids are deep struck in years, be their fortunes never so promising, their alliance strengthening, or the beauty of their inward parts deserving; they are commonly courted by youthful fancy, with a neglectful contempt. Their riveled skin merits not a light amorous touch: nor their rugged brows deepe-indented with aged furrows, a graceful look. And the like may be said of our stale Bachelors; who are so long in choosing, and so singular in their affecting; as their affection falls into a neglect; their declining persons into a contempt. To these may that Similitude be not altogether improperly applied: One having liberty given him to go thorough a whole Wood, to make choice of the best staff he could find; provided, that he choosed it in his going on, but not in his returning back; taking his course, and with a curious eye observing where he might fit himself best: he found many fair and straight plants that might serve his turn: but these would not content him; on he goes still, expecting better: till coming to the end of the Wood, he found none but crooked ones to supply his choice, and of those no great change. Then, but too late, he repented him of his toomuch singularity, in neglecting the opportunity of choosing what might give him content: and in submitting himself to a choice, which, in respect of those he refused, might deserve contempt. Thus have we discovered the grounds of those tragic straits, which unhappy Lovers have fall'n into: either by matching where they did not love; or by being jealous over those whom they did too much love; or by conceiving a mortal hate towards those, who were Corrivals in their love. Which cruelty, as it proceeded from jealousy; so that jealousy sprung many times from the disloyalty of those inconstant servants, to whom they bore such intimate fancy: as may appear more amply in this their ensuing Apology. SECTION VII. Their modest Defence. YOu have heard what cruel creatures, those fatal effects of jealousy, and Corrivalry, have made of the sweetest, and softest natures. And yet let not these relations lay such deep tinctures, or aspersions on that weaker Sex: as if blind affection had so enthralled reason to sense; that there were no place left for their modest Defence. Cruelty indeed, admits no Apology: yet when too impressive a fancy occasions this cruelty, it merits rather the title of a distracted frenzy, than an affected cruelty. Many of these were inflamed with such heat of love: as the Catastrophe closed as well with the loss of their own life, as the life of their friends. Yea, could they have forgotten the injury done them by the disloyalty of their Servants: they could willingly have dispensed with that breach of faith: and expiated their guilt, with the hapless embrace of their own fate: Truth is, their impatience was too great, to expostulate with reason: which drove them into this fury, or frenzy of passion. And this that noble, but unfortunate Crescentia witnessed; when after such time as she had set her affection on a disloyal Servant: and by her means, fortunes and favours, had highly advanced him: finding her love so meanly requited, as a strange Mistress became entertained, where her fancy should have been solely lodged: another, and she a light Courtesan, harboured, where she should have been honoured: she burst forth into these extremes: the issue whereof sealed the period of her love, with the forfeiture of her life. O my Demetrius, were't not in restraint; and who did enlarge thee? Were't not hopeless of fortunes; and who advanced thee? Were't not engaged to the opposition of a powerful foe; and who atoned thee? Nay, were't not grown contemptible in the eyes of the lowest; and who restored thee? Were not thy dejected fortunes so far distanced from hope of relief, as not the least beameling of comfort afforded thee redress? Where was thy Sabina then to befriend thee? No, no, Demetrius, her light affection took first grounding from thy fortune, as thy fortune received birth from my too hasty loving, and too easy believing of so unthankful a Servant. Yet shall it appear to the World; that though my Love first issued from the Source of folly: yet even in that there appeared a loyal constancy; which, as it shall wove up the web of my fate; so shall it bear record to posterity of thy unjust breach of faith. But spin forth no more protractive hours, unhappy Gratiana, in expostulating with his breach: or to no purpose, in wasting thy tedious breath. May my premature end, occasioned by my too credulous trust, become a caveat to all my sex, to retain more esteem of their fame, and to be more careful whom they trust. My indiscreet love brought me to ruin before my time: may my example be a Memorial to aftertimes, to prevent their ruin derived from such means: and closing their hopes with such fearful ends. Nor was her hand less ready to execute, than her tongue was to dispute. For with these words, she closed her amorous woes: Farewell Demetrius; and redeem the injury thou hast done to me, in expressing thy constancy to Sabina's beauty. My best wishes shall attend thee: though thy subtlety did first wind me, then by surprising my honour, wound me; and wounding, unthankefully leave me. But to divert from these memorable, though miserable instances of constancy; with the wrongs they suffered by their too light credulity: we will now descend to such particulars, wherein these censorious Timonists (whose poor degenerate spirits are ever delighted most in detracting from women, or aspersing some unworthy disgrace upon their sex;) usurp this liberty, to lay upon their purest reputes a lasting infamy. We shall in every place hear calumnious tongues too lavish in this error, and inveighing against them in this manner: What vice is there extant, which is not in the practice of women frequent? If vanity were lost, where were it to be found, but in their light bosoms? The forbidden fruit is ever in their eye: and ever dangling in their desire. Whatsoever is prohibited, is by them most affected: whatsoever by Obedience enjoined, scornfully neglected. If young, they are lascivious: if old, they are covetous. Their whole life a Comedy of errors: their formal feature a farthel of fashions. Alas poor Girls! Have you no Defence against such viperous tongues? When you desire to go neat, or, according to your rank, to hold your place; you are termed proud, or ambitious. If frugal, you are covetous. If you discover your wrongs, you are malicious. If with admiration you chance to eye the fullness of another's estate, you are envious. If you be sparing in your dishes, you are penurious: if choice in your dishes, you are delicious. If you innocently converse with a youthful neighbour, you are straight lascivious: If you keep home, you are lazy, or unsociably censorious: If you walk abroad, you are too liberal of your honour, and to light eyes suspicious. Nay, they will not stick to press this Argument yet a little further: If Goddesses themselves were wantoness: what may we think of the Handmaids of those Goddesses? Dircetis that great Goddess of Ascalon, could be inflamed with love to a youth, who sacrificed to her: and gratify his Oblation with a sensual affection: yea, and close her loose love with as base a conception. 'Tis true; the Fable reports so much: yet if we may give credit to the authority of a Poet: we shall find this Goddess resolving her eyes to tears: And, as one highly ashamed of her incontinency, exposing that adulterate Brat to the Desert: abandoning the society of that light amorous youth: and to make the Scene more fully tragical, throwing herself down into a Lake, bounding upon Ascalon: To confirm unto the world, that if her stain were great, her sorrow was no less. The Harbinger of the morn, could not so soon usher in these roseate Consorts of the ensuing day: as this deluded Goddess (If we may grace her with such a title) offered her penitential tears to her polluted Shrine: her pleasure could not be so great, but her torture was more. Yea, but these feminine Critics will say; It is not enough for the youth of their sex to glory in their growth of vanity: but even those old Maquarellas; whose very earthly breath divines their approaching return to earth: as if they had perused Aesons Herbal, and freely partaked of his Receipts: must assume a graceful presence of youth; and fill up their irreparable decays with Art-beauty: by new plaistring those crazy buildings, which had long since fall'n into the Lord Paramounts' hand, for want of repair. Alas, is this all? If the weaker sex deserve such reproof, in their desire to cover their rivals: or smoothing those rugged deformities, which their decline in nature has laid on them: what may we think of those old Seniors, whose eyes have been long since incased; and whose constant aches in their bones, have been above all other Prognostications approved: and yet these can veil their reverend age with an artful Periwig: and court a light Piece with as much vain Rhetoric, as if their Winter had been metamorphosed into a Spring: and their silver-haires into downy blossoms! That old Blade had, no doubt, green thoughts; who coming to a Barber to be trimmed: and being asked by his complete Trimmer, after what fashion he would wear his beard whether he would look amiable to his friend; or terrible to his foe; or point vice to his apparel? This ancient Fashion-favorite answered him, that he would (in regard of the rarity of the cut) be trimmed point-vice to his apparel. Which this nimble Snap did; and that to a hair, till he had not left him one hair, to work on: This riveled Scaledrake, having seen himself in the Glass, durst hardly acknowledge his own face: but terribly distempered he was to see himself so strangely disfigured (which indeed might have been prevented, if a sleepy distemper had not belulled him while he was trimmed.) Howsoever, seeing himself a stranger to himself, he fell into a terrible quarter with his roguish Trimmer: ask him in a choleric manner, how he durst to abuse his face? Excuse me, Reverend Sir, said the Barber; I am but a naked Trimmer, but your worship was the Director: you told me, that you would be trimmed point-vice to your apparel; and I have observed your direction: for I have left your face as haire-bare, as your coat was threadbare; and that was point-vice to your apparel. The next objection you can press against them, is this: They are covetous. But tell me, can you find in all their sex such a Midas, as to with the very meat he eat, to be turned into gold? or such a passionate incompetible revenger, as with Silla, never to forgive, nor forget the injury done him by an offender? or such a marrow-eating envious Tetter, as Ctesiphon, who macerated himself in the prosperity of an other? or such an Idolater of honour, as Themistocles, who could not sleep for the ambition he bore to those triumphs of Miltiades? or such a Glutton, as Cambletes, who dreaming he had devoured his wife; as before, no dainties could assuage his hunger, he became his own executioner, for fear of dishonour? or such a Catamite, as that Bithinian; who was a woman for all men; and a man for all women: an equal agent or patient to satisfy nature? or such a lazy lollard as Margites was; who never digged, ploughed, nor sowed, nor ever did any good all his life long in the least weight or measure: but slept out his time in a sluggish, and useless manner? But some will again object; None can deny but they are light in their favours; changeable in their fancies: The posies of their Love-rings, ever hold check with this Impreze:" Our choice admits a change. No, no; you shall find their disposition of a more choice and constant temper. For should they imitate our wanton free-natured youths, who having lately entered Loves-lists, and brought some shreads of their father's unnecessary providence to pass the Alienation office; you might find them accommodated with Myriad of amorous servants. Of which number that wanton Wooer, and lavish Lover, might be well accounted, who gloried in the multitude of his Mistresses, and boasted of his fits and fancies; resolving to be a Servant to many, Me nova turba petit, Licet una puella recessit, Et mihi vota premunt, Quae violanda negant. Sijtite vos Nimphae, Vix tanta licentia zonae, Vni nuptus ero, Sufficit una viro. but a Consort to one: Though one has left me, I've fresh storc enough, And all these press me to perform my vow. Content you Girls, I me for one or none, One wench at once, will be enough for one. Whereas, even that amorous Courtesan of Venice, whose embraces appeared more mercenary, then complied with her honour, could protest, though she had many Servants, her sole solace was in one Favourites service: stoop she might to the lure of many: incline she could not, but to the love of one. 'Tis true, an impudent woman may woo man: and if confidence dictated that it was loyalty, which caused modesty so far transgress, she that should thus woe, could not choose but win; for such Oratory could not but be prevalent, where bashful fancy became Oratrix, and was predominant. As men woe women, might women woe men, For one watch now, there would be ten. This that Stage-wit expressed in his enforced conceit, betwixt Echo and Narcissus: This woe to man, shall henceforth be no Woman, Since woe to man is now become a Wooman. Sometimes indeed, it was more curiously then usefully, more subtly then fruitfully demanded; why a woman might not as properly woo man, as man woman: And that Arabic resolution, retrived from the very depth of imagination, with much ingenuity assoiled this question. Wooing, said that Arabian, was but a lovely seeking: now we seek not for that we have, but what we have not. It is more proper then for the man, in this love's quest, to seek for what he has lost; then for the woman to seek for what she already has. The man he has lost his rib, and he seeks after her that has it. Mean time it were folly in her to seek it, when she has it. It is for him then to seek it; who, though he may not have it: yet he seeks to enjoy her who has it. Again, will some say: but why were all the Furies women; those three fatal Sisters women; those Circean Witches women; those enchanting Sirens women? Did not the first imply their cruelty? The second their implacability? The third their impiety? The fourth their subtlety? And with these you might insert that late Chimaera of the Germane Hog-faced Gentlewoman of Wirkham: all alike probably true, and credibly built upon equal grounds. But to answer these prodigies of nature; Tell me, ye Critic Cavallieres, who have surely got a stroke over shins with some French faggot, or you would never thus inveigh against so exquisite a subject; why were all the Muse's women; all the Sibyls women; those watchful Hesperides women; those Nine-Worthies, so lately memorised, women? Surcease then, and close with me in their modest Defence; If you see in them any lightness, impute that to their weakness. Again, if you see in them that composedness, which best becomes them: account that in them a real goodness. Sweet sociable souls they are, when Grace conducts them. The path they walk in, is chalked forth by modesty: the tract they pursue, is the practice of piety: where the period of so graceful a Scene, closeth ever with felicity. None ever but those proud Pharisees, who used to wear philacteries, and Ceremonial philanties on their brows and elbows, were known to wink at the approach of women: And may such wink still; who, though they have sealed eyes, they may have seeing hearts. For though desire come in by the Windows: yet some men's Windows may seem to be shut, when the doors of their desires are open. Fancy may play the wanton within, while Modesty seems to play the Gaoler without. Thus have you heard their Modest Defence: and how calumnious pens and tongues are ever most versed in traducing innocence. Where if a woman be demure, she is taxed of coyness; if courteous, she is taxed of lightness; Affability and Disdain equally engage her to a rigid censure: yet for all this, pure minds cannot be so amated: nor goodness, which retains with her an inseparable witness, so eclipsed. The Sun appears in his fullest beauty, when he breaks forth of a cloud. So virtue, when she has dispelled those malignant vapours which interposed her, shows herself then in her clearest feature. This in those divine Apothegms, which even in their greatest extremes they composed, may fully appear, as you shall hear in our ensuing Section hereafter. SECTION VIII. Their witty Aphorisms, Apothegms, and Answers. FRom these, no doubt, but the best principles of humane Learning have derived their being and beginning. But as the best fruits are soon corrupted, the earliest blooms quickliest blasted; so have our choicest Maxims of this nature lost much of their lustre, by being diverted from that Object whereat they aimed. Pure Rils should not be so corrupted, by giving way to such troubled or brackish Inlets as dis-relish the purest water, in making it quite degenerate from its own primitive nature. Some Aphorisms there be (if they may merit that style) which lose much of their state, and detract too much from their light, by their too weak discovery of an Anacreonticke strain; which generally makes obscene Pasquil's of serious Apothegms. But these are not worth our observation: It shall be our task, to avoid distaste; by laying before you those witty Aphorisms, Apothegms, and Answers; the perusal whereof may afford both delight and profit; the one to cheer you, the other to store you: whensoever any occasion of such discourse shall be ministered to you. That noble Lady, though her descent and fortunes might fix her above an inferior Sphere, showed excellent arguments of a composed temper, and an humble nature in this resolution: As my descent exacts of me a tender eye to my reputation: so should my example be a precedent to others of imitation. For those, who commit any unseemly act in a public presence, do as much as lie in them, to murder those who take observance of them. My gate shall not publish me proud: nor my habit fantastic: For I find nothing in me, worthy such idolatry. That Sicilian Matron closed her content with an incomparable contempt of the World; who publicly protested, That she could eye nothing in this Theatre of earth, that might seem worthy to entertain so divine a Guest as her soul. And as of a finite to an infinite, there was no proportion: so it was impossible, that the circumference of earth should confine that infinite beauty of the soul to her dimensions. That modern Mirror of true nobility expressed herself a brave Sovereigness over her affections: who held it the greatest derogation to feminine honour, to discover the least distemper in subjects of anger. When I take a serious survey, said she, of mine own infirmity: and recollect daily what cause I give my Maker to be angry with me: I am half ashamed to express my passion of anger to any. Can he forbear me who made me; and cannot I forbear them who are equal in their creation with me? Cannot poor dust contain itself in patience with dust, when he can show his gracious patience to ambitious dust, who made all of dust? No less composedness of Spirit did that heroic Parisian discover in her desire to see others flourish without repining: Yea, wishing with that divine Moral; That all envious persons had their ears and eyes seated in all Cities, that with others prosperities, being the proper objects which they most maligned, these, in the survey of them, might be more tormented. Nor is that noble attestation of hers to be here omitted; deserving so well in lasting Characters with the point of a Diamond to be inscribed. I do not see my Neighbour's field flourish, but I wish it were more fruitful; nor any one honoured, but I wish it amplified, if the person be desertful; nor any of my sex beautiful, but I conceive joy in so fair a feature, being inwardly graceful. It is an argument of a servile quality, to dart an envious eye on another's prosperity. If he be rich, and worthy of what he possesseth, much good may it do him; If unworthy of what he enjoyeth; it were a malicious pity to envy him, having within him what will undo him. He is already seized of such a Marrow-eating Tetter, as this festered Ulcer needs no other torture. A good proficient in the School of virtue, had that Theban Lady proved; who held nothing so precious as a continent Soul: vowing withal; That, should she find in her bosom a thought of incontinence; if it were possible, she would estrange herself from an harbour of such lightness. Neither could that breast retain any impression of shame, that could present a sacrifice of love to any, but her husband's shrine: Clozing her resolves with this divine impreze: As my hand has confirmed the gift of my heart: so shall the loyalty of my heart confirm the testimony of my hand. When that princely Dame of Ferrara, had heard of those luscious and licentious feasts of Domenico Silvio, that Italian Cleopatra; Good God (said she) has not the flesh foments enough, but it must be provoked, to the utter ruin of that divine part which should command it? This is not to withdraw fuel from a flaming desire, but to feed it: and by feeding, famish that injuried Guest which suffers for it. Alas! woman is not so strong, as to have all means diverted, by which her modesty might be preserved: and to unrivet all those operative secrecies of Art, by which their Forts of honour may be betrayed. The wanton Idumite is already too stirring; she needs no fresh fuel to feed her affection. It is strange, said the pious Edessa, that we should so cast about by Sea and Land to feed those, who will feed upon us: and to throw forth baits to those, who mean to make a prey of us. I never fare better, said that sage abstemious Lady, then when I seem to far worst. Abstinence is such a choice receipt, as it will admit of no sensual deceit. What can delude me, so long as I make my appetite subject to Reason's sovereignty. There is no day so tedious, said that discreet Consort, to a grave Senator, as that which is made a stranger to any task. That Sun shall not shine on me: nor that place entertain me, which shall not receive some argument of life from me. For better were it for me by dying to cease from living: then by living unprofitably to be ever dying. For my part, in all this continued Chesse-game of our life, I shall ever hold him or her the greatest loser, who riots forth the rich treasure of time in fruitless pleasure: for, as the deepest stain to an active spirit is Sloth; so the greatest grief that can befall an improving man, is his loss of time. It is rare likewise to observe what excellent Rules they not only delivered unto others; but what they themselves retained, that their own exemplary life might publish to the world, they taught not others what themselves neglected: nor imparted by way of precept unto others those Lessons which they slighted. As the very best of God's creatures, Arist. 1. Pol. in the opinion of that wise Stagyrite, is that man who enjoys himself in the execution of what is legal and just: So the very worst of his creatures is that man, who divides himself from what is lawful or just. What incomparable creatures these feminine Mirrors have shown themselves, even in these offices of judicature, would this brief Epitome give me leave, I could here amply illustrate with many, both ancient and modern Instances: where you might find some even reproving their Emperors for remissness of justice, in showing too much lenity: or taxing their severity of justice, in their inflicting on easy delinquents too much cruelty. With instances of this sort our Roman and Greek Annals are so plentuously stored, as this Subject shall little need to be further illustrated. Amb. This is most certain; as the prime intention may be properly said to give a name to the work: for the very best work scarcely merits the title of a moral action, being not accompanied by a pure intention: So with what pure intentions many of these Heroic Ladies beautified their noble actions, may be easily confirmed by many memorable Acts by them achieved; and with that modesty, as they could not well endure to have their names recorded in the performance of those pious works and sacred structures; which, as they were dedicated to devotion; so were they sincerely erected, without the least tincture of vainglory, or heat of ambition. And well might many of their pious resolves close in such conclusions: when they so divinely considered, Aug. in lib. de Spiritu & anima. how they entered this life with the society of a tear; how they passed over this life in labour and care; and how they were to end this life with grief and fear. This made them cautious not only of their actions, how they were performed; but of their thoughts, how they stood affected: as likewise of their words, how they were delivered. This moved them to observe that excellent discipline in the regiment of their tongue, which that experienced Professor so discreetly recommended. There is a time, wherein we are to speak nothing: and there is a time, Hugo de disciplina mona. wherein we are to speak something: but there is no time wherein we are to speak all things. Rightly did these observe, and seriously did these retain, what they had received: By the very speech which is delivered, may we gather how the mind stands affected. Neither can evil communication become a Christian. Isid. Ib. Sidonius in Epistolari. Oscula, verba, libri, vaga lumina mensa, sodales. Mentibus intactis tela fuere necis. And whereas Youth itself is ever interested in most dangerous hazards; they took a course to restrain youth, lest their light youth might beget a sad age. In a word, these observed those perilous motives to sin, and therefore wisely stopped their ears to the Sirens song: Kisses, Words, Books, Light-eyes, Cates, merry Mates, Make chastest minds to open fancies gates. Thus have we in a succinct manner, to their surviving honour presented testimonies of their ability and piety in their Aphorisms, Apothegms, and witty Answers: wherein they discovered an admirable promptness of wit, preparedness of mind, and depth of judgement. But we are now to descend from these golden sayings which they uttered, to those glorious Works which they composed. In which their memory shall be crowned: And with which our Epitome, or Love-Lecture in Morality, clozed. SECTION IX. Their eminent Labours; And how they were Assistants in the exquisitest Works that have been formerly composed, either for History or Poesy. ZEale of goodness is such a glorious ambition, as it can never be too aspiring. And in this, many eminent and heroic spirits of their sex showed themselves worthy Corrivals. Where we shall find some excellently versed in History. Others in rare compositions, to give a rich lustre unto Poetry. Others far above the delicacy of their sex, in the profound search of Philosophy. Others no less useful in compiling Moral Precepts, properly conducing to an Oeconomy. Various patterns we might here produce in each of these; examples of such mysterious Learning, and high contemplation, as their memory deserves no less admiration, than their piety imitation. For professors, and rich improvers of their knowledge in those precious treasures of Time, History, and Antiquity, we shall find a princely Zenobia, and a sage Cleobula. For affecters, and happy enrichers of Poesy, a sprightly Corinnathia, and a Pharsalian Pollia. For serious searchers of profound secrets in Philosophy, a Theoretic Theano, and a divine Diotima: a woman, who was so famous a Philosopher, Diotima 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉. jovis gloria: Such was her divine Etymon. that both Socrates and Plato went to hear her Lectures. And for moral Precepts, and Rules of Oeconomy, a lovely Sulpitia, and a stately Edesia. Prompt were their wits, rich their fancies, and so bravely composed their affections, as those who enjoyed them, might hold themselves so far as humane happiness extended, truly beatified by them. One chancing pleasantly to repeat, in the presence of his wife, that old assertion; How, of all inferior blessings, the very summary of them might be comprised in this threefold dimension: 1. To have a wife of his own choosing. 2. To have an Orchard of his own planting. 3. To have a Child of his own begetting. But what answered his Wife to this supposed Abstract of all humane happiness? Truly, said she, if you had not done the first, you had never been my husband. And if you have not done the second, you are the worse husband. But should you conceive the least suspicion of the third, I should account you unworthy the name of a husband. Truth is, such sweet Consorts as we have here in this Section described; and with whose virtues those very monumental statues which enshrined them, are perfumed: confine not the period of their love to a honey-month. Their delights are more perpetuate, because with goodness beautified. For skin-beauty returns but a sickly appetite to Fancy. Whatsoever retains in itself a proclivity of decaying or declining, cannot conceive much felicity in the enjoying. For though the present Object delight, one poor fit of a Fever will darken those attractive rays of content: and enforce the late enjoyer to distaste that most, which his bleere-eyed judgement did so causelessly admire. Whereas these, whose interior beauty begets to their happy Consorts a permanent fancy; have been ever reputed the choicest Companions to ●ray with, to Play with, to Converse or Commerce with. Every of which we shall illustrate by personal instances Gregory in his Dialogues writeth, that his Aunt Trasilla being dead, was found to have her elbows as hard as horn: which hardness she got by leaning to a desk, at which she used to pray. The like writes Hierome of Asella, Hier. de la●d. Asella epist. 15. who, though confined to the strait compass of a Cell, enjoyed the whole circuit of Heaven. But lest we might fall into the heresy of the Euchitae (a thing I must confess little to be feared, seeing the knees of devotion every where so benumbed) who professed to do nothing else but pray: because the Apostle exhorteth us to pray continually. So that professing to pray, and to do nothing else, in effect they did nothing less: seeing, as Theodoret reporteth of them, They did nothing for the most part but sleep. Whereas in Basils' judgement, a prayer should be filled not with Syllables, or good words, so much as good works. Now I say, lest women should become so wholly contemplative, as wholly to forget the office of being active: We shall present to you such, who are no less apt Consorts to play with, then devout Supplicants to pray with. Right wisely knew that Empress how to play her Irish game, who admonished her husband, that the life of a man was more to be valued, than a throw at dice. The loss of a life was to be recompensed with no benefit. Aelian. When the game is ended, a new game may supply it: but when a life is forfeited, once deprived, it cannot be restored. An excellent direction, and worthy our Observation in our form of play, was that princely feminine caution: In game play fair, and do not swear, Slight hope of gain, scorn thoughts of fear. The brave resolution of that noble Gamester, discovered no less masculine temper; who, to prepare herself against the braves of fortune, fortified her well-composed Spirit with this Antidote: Should a black Cloud sit on my Fate, Impendeat fat is nubes opaca mei●, Discutiet mens nubes patiendo leves. I can with patience slight her hate. Nor were some of these inimitable Females, only fitting Consorts for subjects of Devotion, to pray with; nor only pleasing Companions for Scenes of Recreation, to play with: But moving sociats for arguments of Communication, to commerce and converse with. Those Tyrian and Sidonian women might confirm their propriety and expeditenesse in the way of Commerce: with our daily experience of discourse with creatures of that sex in treaties of Converse. It seems those three gentlemen, as if they had been Trium-viri in their fruition of this happiness, could return sufficient arguments of their Mistress' abilities in this kind: While one making choice of this Posy, expressed the absoluteness of his choice in the neatness and elegancy of her discourse; which he recommended to the impressure of his Diamond in a Window: My choice is one, whose accents bear such weight, As all discourses else to me seem light. These lines when another Gentleman had perused; as one who conceived himself no less enriched by his choice; seconds the former in this manner, by engraving this Impreze to his Mistress honour: Single's my choice, yet with her cheered am I, As if that single conference were many. The third nothing short in his Conceit, of the like beauty, and for subjects of Discourse no less moving in the care of Fancy, to publish to the world that he tendered his deserving Mistress no less affection, with a more enlivened or mounting invention, closed his opinion he retained of her in this commendation: My Consort's single, yet when she is by me, Me thinks the Spheres in Warbling Quires draw nigh me. Sir Fra: Bacon. Such as these may we well hold, with that eminent Statist, for old men's Nurses, and young men's Mistresses. Should their youthful prime entertain by an enforced injunction a frosty Consort: their virtuous temper is such, as their enforced choice must admit no change. Euryala was never more obsequious to tender Ithacus, than these will express themselves to their decrepit husbands. Their disparity in years must not beget in their affections any disloyalty of thoughts. Though they be young Brides, they will perform the offices of old Nurses. Their care must extend itself, instead of amorous embraces, to preserve health in their declining husbands: which they address themselves to with no less alacrity, then if they had been matched to persons of more vigorous quality. These have made a league with their eyes; that they shall be no betrayers of their hearts. As it was their doom to marry unequally, and to bestow their Virgin youth on mere patients engaged to each infirmity: so they have vowed solely to observe them; constantly to love them; peaceably to live with them: and amidst all overtures so to bear with their infirmities, as no peevish humour of age shall distemper them: nor any groundless jealousy suggest to their revenge an opportunity to wrong them. And this their Observance must not proceed from any by-respect; as many cautelous younglings do; who usully accommodate themselves to their perverse husband's humour, with hope of a day to come after. Their affections are pure without dissembling; their care constant without projecting; their desires addressed to please without humouring. Others we shall find of their sex, fit to be youngman's Mistresses; And these no less modestly pleasing, then virtuously affecting: These can stand upon their points without apish niceness: and hold their distance without a squeamish preciseness. They can love without fonding; ingratiate themselves without fawning: Neat they desire to go without fantasticness; Sweetly can they converse without affectedness; These hold it a feminine madness to pride themselves in that, which stripped their Predecessors of their purest state. These reflect upon Eve with a tear-swollen eye; and in a retired contemplation, and recollected affection, present her Image to their well-composed thoughts: And this they make their Diary to the end it may work upon their imaginations more effectually. O was not Eve created in her will free and innocent; in her reason sage and prudent; in her command strong and potent? And what deprived her of so blest a condition, but an indisposed heat of ambition? Had her thoughts confined themselves to the lists of her present state, she had never thrown upon her posterity such a surviving stain. O had she been content with what she was, her sex had never been so miserable as it is. Her ambition became our perdition: Her pride our ruin. They sigh to see their sex so vainly magnified; to hear them with Titles of Worthies dignified; to have their Portratures in such magnificent manner beautified; These they slight with more religious contempt, than ever the victorious Utican did the erection of his statue; being no embellishment, as he accounted it, to the essence of virtue. Well deserving a succeeding memory was that Motto: I did never in any thing to myself arrogate, In nullo unguam arrego, in quo mihi non derogo. wherein I did not from myself derogate. And such is the modesty of these patterns of piety, as they cannot endure to have their commendable actions too much observed, or publicly applauded, lest by hearing themselves praised, they might incur vainglory, and so become deluded. Their constant nuptial Imprese, or Loves loyal Posies were these: Chaste faith enstiles me Spouse. Casta fides Sponsam me fe●ent—. Manus colo, thorns Sponso. Vid. Var. " A Hand for my Wheel, a Bed for my Spouse." Where thou art Caius, I am Caia. I love, I live, and yet I give that to my Love by which I live. To live and have no heart were strange, yet have I none but by exchange. Death may contract my life▪ but not my love. Such as these famous Mirrors shall we occasionally encounter withal, in our Readins: Who, though they were Ethnics borne, retained in them such impressions of moral goodness: as their memory left an Annual to posterity; being so much more to be admired, in regard those times wherein they flourished, were with mists of pagan ignorance clouded. These desired to do well, and not to be applauded; to advance virtues, and not to have their names recorded: nor their amiable features with glorious Frontispieces impaled. To improve goodness by humility, was their highest pitch of glory. This their sundry excellent fancies confirmed; their elegant labours discovered; whereof though many have suffered Oblivion through the injury of time, and want of that incomparable help of the Press, the benefit whereof we enjoy: yet shall we find by the testimony of our approvedst Authors, that many of these women, which for brevity sake we have only shadowed, have been assistants to the highest and most enlivened Composures that ever derived birth or breath from Helicon. Besides other Historical Relations, whose memory, time shall sooner expire in herself, then obscure. Turn over those mysterious volumes of the Sibyls; those accurate airs of Corinnathia, that incomparable Corrival to the Poet Pindarus; those Emathian raptures of Argentaria, that happy Consort, and assistant to the heroic Lucan. Neither need we travel abroad in pursuit of foreign Instances We have not only formerly enjoyed, but even in these times are we seized of many eminent and deserving women, and in addition to their honour, nobly descended, who rightly merit the style bestowed on them; The WITS. And these have the happiness to judge of a well-composed line; to breath spirit in invention; to correct the indisposure of a Scene; to collect probably (a work I must confess of greatest difficulty) what may best comply with the humour of the time, or suit best with the propriety of Court-Maske, or public Stage. Others we have, who, by the help of our numerous Translations, can read a Lecture upon Homer's Iliads, and with that exactness, as if with Dares Phrygius, they had been personally interessed in that tragic service. Others singularly versed in tongues; and all these with such modesty managed, as if their many tongues had made them tongue-tied: and with a sweet composed silence so incomparably graced them, as if in others presence they had made exchange of their Elocution with Attention. Let me then address my Discourse to you, who make it your task to detract from this sex. Some of you have I heard traduce them, in laying such injurious aspersions as these upon them: Women, of all others, are to be esteemed the improvidentst Governesses of their Cinque-ports. They pervert the use of their five Senses, by engaging them to sensual ends. Ears they have, and these make them Eve-droppers. Eyes they have, and these make them Tempter's. Smells they have, and these are compounded of Love-pouders. Tastes they have, and these return them Rioters. Touches they have, and the●e render them free Embracers. Their feet make them Gadders; all their faculties, irregular livers. If old, their riveled furrows make them sullen; If young, their taking beauties make them wanton. If rich, they are haughty; If poor, they turn naughty. Every thing must live, and poverty cools the hottest love. That Adage proves ever true: Love when it wants harbour, falls many times into a Fever. Besides, what a misery it is to be matched to such an one, as affects nothing more than fashion? Such an one, who reserves more unfeigned adoration to her Glass; then to the prime Maker of the Object of that Glass. The tender love she bears to her Tyre-woman, makes her forgetful of the duty she ought to tender to her Husband. To such as these, Husbands become mere Shelters: those names they bear, serve only for sk●●anes to salve their wife's honours. Again, how pitifully discontented will some of these Spotted beauties appear; when they see a dress they affect, which their parents care, or husband's cost will not procure. Lie down and die they must instantly, there is no remedy: Women they are not of this world, if they may not enjoy the losest vanities of the world. But well did those two Conceits close, and in Creatures of this pettish and perverse humour ingeniously meet: While one, having had his handful, no doubt, of such a wild one, wrote these two lines with his Diamond in the Chamber Window of his discontented peat: Maids that will die because they're lightly crossed, May grieve their parents, but themselves the most. The other answered him in the same key, though in a more general tone: By Vixons that will die for being crossed, Their Country gains far more than she has lost. Thus do these feminine Critics, Since to tax women's errors 'tis so common, What may my Book look for in praise of women? whose best of Elocution is detraction, labour to vilify that sex, without whose being they had never been. But imputing the ground of their immeriting spleen to some hard fortune they have suffered in the choice of their wanton, wilful, or unsociable Mistresses: or from their disdainful repulse, which might probably beget in them this pitiful reproof; We will leave these to feed and fat themselves with the seldome-thriving food of their distemper; and address this our clozing discourse to you, who are those pious patterns of feminine honour; for whose sakes, not only in the main Subject more fully amplified, but even in this Epitome more briefly contracted, we have bestowed our oil and labour. Ye worthy Women, who have no other device but the dress of virtue to beautify your Frontispiece; ye, who give a graceful accomplishment to those three incomparable Ornaments of a Woman, Complexion, Favour, and Behaviour: for the first▪ it is your own, and not borrowed; for the second, it is ever with a second look improved; And for the third, it is every way without Affectation accomplished. Ye, I say, whose living actions become so exemplar, as they are Directories unto others how to live at distance from error; shall be ever Patronesses to these lines, as these lines shall be Relators of your virtues. Ye retain in your memory those mysterious Emblems of your Creation; ye find that you were made of man; but not of his head, as to be his Imperial; nor of his foot, as to be his vassal; but of his rib, to be his equal. Ye were given him for Helps, not to spend his estate; but to partake with him in every estate in his comforts to augment them, in his discomforts to allay them. The fantastic habits of the time have no power to delude you; price nor prayer to corrupt you; much less to disease him of your fancy, who by right enjoys you. As in your Creation you are excellent; so in your imitable virtues eminent. As in your passion moderate; so in assaults continent. As in Countenance, Habit, and Expression of your affection modest; so, forth of loyal zeal to those you love, and with whom you account it your highest happiness to live, to those who are Corrivals in your choice, violent: Albeit, with a modest defence may that violence, proceeding from an exuberance of affection, be sweetened. As your witty Aphorisms, Apothegms, and Answers have confirmed you seriously pregnant; so have your eminent Labours published you integriously diligent. And in each of these Subjects, contracted in one entire individual Model, have I portrayed your worth: which, so long as you hold correspondence with virtue, shall become the continued Annual of my pen; and in your noble acceptance, account it a sufficient Guerdon for my pains. FINIS. The Contents, Disposition, and Order of this LADIES LOVE-LECTURE. SECT. 1. HE treats of the Excellency of Women in their Creation. Plato's opinion touching Women. The Story of the Delphic Oracle: with the explication and application of it. Nothing comparably precious to a continent Soul. Eye a Woman in the excellency of her Creation; She is found in her quality, an Helper; in her Society, a Comforter; in the perplexities of her Consort, a Counsellor: and in all these, a Sharer. SECT. 2. THeir imitable virtues, illustrated with examples: And confirmed to be most eminent patterns in their practice and profession of the four Cardinal Virtues. These compared, by an apt resemblance, to those four Rivers streaming forth of Paradise. The way to sin, is to open to occasion, and let temptation come in. The five Senses are those Cinque ports, which being well guarded, this little World, MAN, may remain secured. SECT. 3. THeir Moderation of Passion in Motives to Revenge, properly reflecting upon these three distinct Subjects: Life. With admirable Instances in each of these: and with dainty Mottoes or Imprezes' to embellish these. Fame. With admirable Instances in each of these: and with dainty Mottoes or Imprezes' to embellish these. Fortunes. With admirable Instances in each of these: and with dainty Mottoes or Imprezes' to embellish these. SECT. 4. THeir Continency in assaults. Sundry Historical Emblems of Beasts and Birds, illustrating this Subject. How an unaffected reservancy suits best with Conjugal Fancy. Age becomes rather an object of pity, than fancy to the eye of youth. SECT. 5. THeir Modesty, in Countenance, Habit, and Expression of affection. Candid thoughts are ever most legible in the eyes. Piety receives scandal from the Countenance; and Chastity, treason from the Eye, by conveying treacherous thoughts to the heart. Imitation of foreign Habits, begets in us a disesteem with Foreigners. More advantage in dispatch then delay. Delay giveth way to Corrivals. Fancy, when it falls remiss in pursuit, it produceth cold fruit. A Pleasant old prophecy of aged fancy. A Presidentall Love-letter. SECT. 6. THeir violence upon such as were Corrivals in their Choice. A parallel betwixt the River Himetus and the disposition of a woman: with the reasons of this Allusion. A Woman's disposition bounds upon two extremes: Boundless Love. Or Endless Hate. No receipt more sovereign than the one; No deceit more subtle than the other. One of the best policies in a Christian, is to delude a wily wanton: and decline the fury of a jealous woman. Disparity of Years, Fortunes, or Descent, ever begets in the Parties married most discontent. A Similitude suiting well with the temper of a stale Bachelor. SECT. 7. THeir modest Defence. Though Cruelty admit no Apology: yet when too impressive a fancy occasions this Cruelty, it merits rather the title of a distracted frenzy, than an affected Cruelty. Love, when it falls into these Extremes, is more apt to expostulate with Passion than Reason. A memorable Example in this kind. Degenerate and creeping spirits are ever promptest to tax the weaker sex of errors. Their censorious Objections retorted, and with a merry story requited. women's Inventions discover no such lightness in their Love-Imprezes and Poesies, as more masculine spirits usually do in their devices. An Arabic resolution to this Question: Why a woman might not as properly woo man, as man woman? None but proud Pharisees were ever known to wink at the approach of women: And these, though they had sealed eyes, they had seeing and stealing hearts. SECT. 8. THeir witty Aphorisms, Apothegms and Answers. Obscene Pasquil's detract from the style and state of serious Aphorisms. These divine and Moral Aphorisms were not only delivered by them, but personated in them: in their Humility, Contentment, Charity, Patience, Continency, Abstinence and Industry. Their excellent Rules delivered unto others, for the better regiment of their thoughts, words, and works. SECT. 9 THeir Eminent Labours; and how they were Assistants in the exquisitest Works that have been formerly composed, either for History, or Poesy. And all this ennobled by memorable patterns and Professors in all ages: where zeal of goodness was such a glorious Ambition, as it could never be too aspiring. The discreet Reply of a wife to her husband's assertion:" How all inferior blessings were comprised in this threefold dimension: 1. To have a wife of his own choosing; 2. To have an Orchard of his own planting. 3. To have a child of his own begetting. Nuptial delights are more perpetuate, because with goodness dignified. Whatsoever retains in itself a proclivity to declining, cannot conceive much felicity in the enjoying: Whereas these, On goodness, not on greatness cast their care, ●Shee's truly noble that is Virtue's heir. Consorts inwardly beautified, are the choicest Companions for Closet. Casket. Carpet. And this authorized with ancient and modern instances. The ingenious contest of three Gentlemen, touching their fruition of happiness in their choice; with answers to each others Imprezes'. Discreet women sort themselves to their choice, in each condition: whether they be oldmen's Nurses, or Youngman's Mistresses. Though they be young Brides, they will perform the offices of old Nurses. And being youngman's Mistresses, they can show a modest freedom without squeamish preciseness. Their pleasant Love-posies to their loyal Consorts. No Learning shows more lustre, then when enshrined in the bosom of a woman. No Eloquence leaves a deeper Impressure, then when delivered by the tongue of a Woman. Their Silence an implying Eloquence. Their Defence in the disposition of every Sense, to the improvement of their honour, against the opposition of every Critic feminine Censor. He addresseth his Conclusion to all such worthy women, whose virtuous lives promise a glorious Evening. And with a recollection of every Subject formerly handled, recommends them to their useful Observance: His Labours to their graceful Acceptance. A Sonnet. LADIES, ye, that would be fair, I a Ceruse can prepare Will make you clearer than the air, 'Tis such choice and precious ware. Hold your purse, it costs you nought, 'Tis in no shop to be bought, Worth an Empire, seldom sought, Being from Elysium brought. Have ye rivels in your face, Want ye love-spots for a grace, Want ye borders, edging, lace, Favour, feature, posture, pace? Would ye ever be in fashion, Vie inventions with our Nation, In your Treaties move compassion, Suit your persons to occasion? Would ye make Affection fly From your love-attractive eye, To entrance the Standards by, Wishing there to live and die? Would ye fix in Fancies Sphere, Or enjoy your only Dear, And no sly Corrival fear, Apt to undermine you there. Would ye feed on such choice food As enliveneth the blood, Purging ill, infusing good, " A rare Conserve for Womanhood? Would ye Courtly measures tread On the flowry-checkered Mead, Would ye no Love-powders need, Would ye in your seed succeed? Would ye love and feel no heat That may wrong chaste Delia's Seat, Would ye in rich language treat, Without Envy become great? Here is ONE will make you fit Both for Lineament and Wit, As ye cannot choose but hit The Mark that may accomplish it. Here is ONE will fancy move, And such a Tyre-woman prove In the Discipline of love, As ne'er was such a Turtledove. Poor she is, yet is she pure, VIRTUE her name, her only lure A constant care, a careful cure To make her loyal Lovers sure. " This 'tis will cheer your amorous brains like Nectar, " And crown you happy Scholars in Loves-Lecture. THE TURTLES TRIUMPH; PRESENTED IN A SUPPLEMENT: HIGHLY CONDUCING to an useful Application, and graceful Reconciliation of the two former Subjects. Continued by Ri. Brathwait, Esquire. LONDON, Printed by john Dawson. INTENTISSIMO VIRO, PUBLICAE SALUTIS STUDIOSISSIMO, JOHANNI BANKS MILITI; ATTURNATO AUGUSTISSIMI REGIS GENERALI: R. B. PARNASSIDUM HUMILLIMUS; OBSERVANTIAE VESTRAE DEDITISSIMUS, HEROINAM HANC CORONIDEM, LEGALI JUGO, SPONSALI VOTO, GENIALI THORO, CONJUNCTAM. D. D. D. A SUPPLEMENT, HIGHLY CONDUCING to an useful Application, and graceful Reconciliation of the two former Subjects. LOng time have these two affectionate Consorts been divided; now at last it is their happiness to become united: To confirm their Loves, which they have vowed to remain inviolably firm, to their expired Lives; we are to propose such necessary Observances, as may prevent all occasion of distrust, and divert all grounds of future distrust. We are then in this useful Connexion; first to treat of Conjugal Offices, Sen. being inherent, as that grave Moral tells us, betwixt Husband and Wife, Wife and Husband. Secondly, Arist. of parental Offices, being subsequent, as that profound Stagyrite teacheth, of Parents to their Children, and Children to their Parents. Thirdly, Anax. of Domestic Offices, being Concomitant, as that sound Stoic reasoneth, being of Masters to their Servants, and Servants to their Masters. Fourthly, of Neighbourly Offices, being reciprocally dependent, as that excellent Politic concludeth, Montan. being mutual civil Offices, or Courtesies, betwixt Neighbour and Neighbour. In all which distinct Subjects, our purpose is, with such brevity, and perspicuity, to deliver our useful directions, that in this very breviary may be laid down the Rules of an entire Oeconomie: Which, being perused with attention, and seconded with retention, may not only prevent all occasion of dissension at home, but all division abroad. For, be the Sea never so troubled, there is good hope, that the groaning ship may be better secured, when Wisdom and Moderation perform the offices of a Pilot, and with a vigilant eye, steers her against all occurrents. Of Conjugal Offices. Prov. 18.22. IT was the saying of the Wisest of Kings: He that findeth a Wife, findeth a good thing, and receiveth favour of the Lord. And that he might more emphatically express the incomparable estimate of a good Wife, and how far in the Scale of judgement, she is to be preferred before substance, riches, or any worldly inheritance; to render them the more proper, and genuine distinction, he returns them not only a distinct gradation, but also a different derivation: Prov. 19.14. House and riches are the inheritance of the Fathers: but a prudent Wife cometh of the Lord. In what high estimation are you then, gentlemans, to hold discreet women? And what happiness may you be said to enjoy in casting your lots in so fair a field, so fruitful a ground? The saying of Caia, wife to Caius Tarqvinius. Vid. Plu●. Where you are Caius, she will be Caia, such is her constancy. Where you are Agathocles, she will be Theogena; yours in prosperity and adversity. Fullness of fortunes cannot transport her, nor any indigence deject her. She cannot endure to admit of that Italian Proverb for Orthodoxal, which they hold for a Tenet so general; When Love wants harbour, it drives Love into a fever. No; so she may live, where she enjoys her love, she is rich enough how soe'er she live. Now, what mutual offices are required, that love so freely tendered, may be requited! Humanity, says the Philosopher, exacts love for love. But love her you cannot, Arist. Eth. if you mix your love with any, or fix it on any, wherein she partakes not. Let it then be your care, that she only have the Monopoly of your love. Let her Bed be undefiled, your Vow inviolate; remembering ever that divine Maxim: To break a Spo●full Vow's an odious sin; Conjugalem fidem violare nefas, nuptialem thorum venerari a●cus. To keepeed unstained, h'as still an honour been, And, to observe this Lesson better; conceive with yourself, how ill you should digest her, if she should wrong you in the same sort. It is an apparent Argument of honest Wisdom (said that ancient Sage) to module an other by our own measure. For to impose heavy burdens on others, Thales Miles. and never to partake of them; to enjoin tasks on others, and not to share in them, argues an indulgency in respect of ourselves, our inhumanity unto others. Entertain this Fellow-helper then which you have received, and to whom, by a sacred Nuptial tye (recorded in Heaven, solemnised on Earth, and confirmed by the mutual gauges of two individually united hearts) you stand affianced, with an affectionate continence; knowing, how an heart divided cannot live, nor a divided fancy truly love. For, as there is nothing so precious as a continent soul: so is there nothing more odious, than a Nuptial Bed stained with an adulterate soil. Ambros. lib. 1. de Abraham. That devout Father, Saint Ambrose, can tell you, that it is a Crime detestable to Savages and Barbarians; how much more to be excluded from the practice of Christians. The very Birds of the air can retain a memory of a dishonoured love; witness the Porphyrio, who, as the Natural Historian reports, Aeli●n. in nat. hist. Alcia●. in Emblem. no sooner finds another too familiar a sharer in her love, than she despairs any longer to live: Her Nest she leaves desolate, and in her distasted life she becomes so disconsolate, as being so injuriously abused by her endearedst friend, she chooseth grief to be her only Associate to accompany her to her Grave. How passionately takes the loving Turtle the loss, This you may the better retain, by engraving in the window of your Bedchamber with that noble Florentine, this Impreze, to make you more tender of your nuptial honour: Emblema est 〈…〉 theri. jer. 5.8. or dereliction of her beloved? She will browse on no green herb; sit upon no flourishing sprig; nor entertain any new love. She frequents the retired lawn; where throbs and dis-passionate threnes become her choicest melody; sighs, griefs and groans, her Widow's obsequy. Receive these loyal Emblems of constant fancy, in the precious Storehouse of your memory; ever making use of these moral Readins, that if creatures, directed only by sense, scorn to be sensual, much more purity should that soul retain, which is rational. How mournfully did that prophetical Dove express his pious zeal, and devout compassion in the discovery of this sin, a great dishonour to the house of Zion! In the morning every one neighs after his Neighbour's wife. Nay, observe how he seconds it, that the brutish nature of this sin might be fuller displayed; In the morning they are as fed horses: Thus were they sated and surfeited in their sensual delights, making the pleasures of sin their gain, and the torments of Hell their goal. Shall we close this with the positive Conclusion, Heb. 13.4. of that Vessel of Election? Marriage is honourable among all, and the Bed undefiled: but Whore-mongers and Adulterers God will judge. Or with that passionate expostulation of the Prophet, in the person of God himself against this sin, with the numerous Professors of this sin? How should I spare thee for this? thy Children have forsaken me, jer. 5.7. and sworn by them that are no gods: though I fed them to the full, yet they committed Adultery, and assembled themselves by companies in the Harlot's houses. But to use the words of that elegant Moral, It is the least of our fear but to find more rich treasure in your Tents, more pious graces in your Pavilions; your descent promiseth largely to your family; that as your Predecessors virtues were as Signals, or Landmarks to their posterity: so you, walking in the same paths, might derive the like streamlings of goodness unto yours. An ancient Family, saith that excellent Ethick, retains ever some beamelings transcending others: And as a genuine modesty is for most part an Attendant to Ingenuity; so are generous Graces those constantest Consorts, Optima semper ingenia, quaedam ge●●●●a comitatur modestia. which hold in equipage with true Gentry. That solid Cynic, hearing how a young Gallant, descending from the order of the Ephori, became hatefully debauched, preferred his suit, and in it humbly begged this loose Rioters estate: The whole Synod wondering much, how, and on what grounds that wise Dog (for so they were pleased to style him) preferred his suit; seeing the Gentleman was neither distracted, nor any way so disabled but he might well enough manage that estate was left him: O conscript Fathers, said he, know you not how this profuse fool has forfeited all that estate he had by his Ancestors, by discovering his own Bastardy, in degenerating from his Ancestors virtues? Has he not made his Family a Brothel: and exposed his Wife's honour to a lascivious Duel? He has not only stained his house, in becoming so enormiously ill; but in depraving others, who might have become, had not his example made them ill, ingenuously good. Strip him then of all without him, who has already stripped himself of all graces within him. Trust me, Fathers, we have none here that will bemoan his loss; but those whom even goodness loathes to look upon; and whose very lives make Athens a L●th-stow of pollution. And such Mourners have all Prodigals; nor do these weep to lose him, but by his loss to lose that estate which did supply them. Give me him then, good Senators; I shall become his trusty faithful Guardian, and keep him short enough to consort with a Wanton. Now to decline the just reproof of such jeering Cynics; nay, the distaste of all good men; (for men of honest quality can never relish any thing better than actions of Piety:) be it your highest terrestrial pleasure, to tender her, whom you ought to honour: to estrange from your thoughts those injurious embraces of an usurping Lover. And remember ever Lysimachus Song; the memory whereof will preserve that pure splendour and beauty of your soul from an eternal stain. The pleasure of fornication is short, but the punishment of the fornicator is long. One day's dalliance exacts many years of repentance. Imprint in your retentive memories the excellent interrogation of that choice Mirror of Chastity; Pattern of presidentall Piety: How shall I do this wickedness, and sin against God? Gen. 39.9. He choosed rather to lose his Coat, than his Honour. Opportunity could not tempt him, nor Importunity taint him: Price, prayer, power became all weak in power, to surprise a disposition so resolutely pure. Be his Pattern your Precedent, his Precedent the Pattern for you to imitate. Nor is this Conjugal Office, or Duty restrained only to this limitation. As your affection is to be constantly continent to their Bed: so are you to be affably pleasant at Board. I have observed a strange kind of imperious and domineering sovereignty in some Husbands; who held it a great posture of State to insult over their wives: Nay, to be marvellously discontented with what dishes soever were served; to catch at offence, and to relish nothing better, than to discountenance those, whose desires were leveled only to please. But this argued in them a perverseness of disposition; resembling that ill-conditioned Aglataidas, who was never better pleased, then with displeasing others: nor ever relished any dish better than what was distasted by others. Or like that strangely tempered Demophon, who used to sweat in the shade, and shake for cold in the sun. Now I could wish to these, if their wife's affability cannot in time reclaim them; that their lots had been thrown in more rugged grounds: For had these been matched with our Zantippe's, Julia's, Lucilla's, or Faustina's; no doubt, but they would have addressed the best of their endeavours as much to please, as their perverse humours are now to displease. Then they would have studied Apologies purposely to divert the furious torrent of their displeasure; Tali conjugio fruor, ut, sive foris egrediar, sive revertar, quicquidevenerit libentissimè patior, & patiendo vinco citiùs quam vincor. Vid. Licost. Apotheg. and for the purchase of one poor smile, engaged themselves to an Herculean labour. It was a singular Philosophical use, which that wise Socrates made of his wife's shrewdeness: Whether I go abroad (said he) or I return home, I am fenced with the armour of patience against whatsoever shall come. He had so freely fed upon the herb of Patience, as nothing could distemper him, how violent soever the assault were that encountered him: yea, those bicker he grappled with at home, made him better prepared to entertain all encounters abroad: So as, with Mithridates, he had so well fortified his virile spirits, with sovereign Receipts, against the invasive power of all poison, as he could perform the part of a true Philosopher, in smiling upon affliction; and receiving all distastes with so composed a brow, as he wondered much how any motives of anger should in an intellectual soul beget the least distemper. For, whosoever he be that in resemblance of this Moral Mirror of admirable patience, can in Prosperity be silent, and not transported; in Adversity, patient, and not amated; in neither of these distempered; in either of these Philosophically composed; scorns to engage his more airy thoughts, to an unmanly passion: having already sphered them in an higher mansion. In the very same Scene, gentlemans, are you interessed; wherein should you fall short, or in the least measure defective: Most part of all our Spectators eyes are fixed on you, whose censure will prove as quick sighted, as your error; accounting you unworthy those brave parts bestowed on you, because mis-acted by you. Entertain these then, to whom you are espoused, with a free, and no servile affection. Wain them from passion, if at any time they become engaged to any, rather with a pleasing smile, than a daring frown: for the former partakes more of an awful sovereignty, then cheerful fancy. The way to preserve in any family a sweet consorting, and concording harmony, is never to have the Master and Mistress of the house, at one time angry. Let the sweetness of the one alloy the sharpness of the other. It was an excellent resolution, which that Laconian Lady ever retained: My Husband's frown shall be a Beam to disperse my Cloud, which cannot choose but beget in him a cheerful reflex, seeing I make discontent a stranger to my heart for his sake. Now there is one thing, Gentlemen, which I am to annex to what I have formerly delivered; which, being carefully remembered, and cautiously practised, cannot choose but highly improve this Conjugal Love; without which, your unconsociable communion were but an hellish life: And it is this. Are you conceited, that she whom you have married, is endowed with a sufficient measure of discretion to govern a Family: and without just exception can propose to herself, with those recommended to her charge, rules of good Housewifery? Do not intermix your care with her charge. The disposal of a Daery, is more proper for a Mistress than a Master of a Family. Strong and manly Offices become the Man; soft and delicate the Woman. Nor is there any intrusion less beseeming then this; nor aught that more exasperates the spirit of a woman, then to have her care suspected, or her charge interposed by her Husband; either through a jealousy of her care, neglect of her charge, or disability to manage any such charge. Those two honest Rural Lovers, though their estates were but mean, their quality obscure, their place of habitation poor; yet knew they how to distinguish their cares, by a fit addressement of themselves to their peculiar charge. Meleand. in Bast. Palemon. ad caulam, Calatea ad colum. Palemon was not to meddle with his Galatea's Spindle; nor Galatea with her Palemon's Hook: Distinct persons, distinct offices. Besides, it is a derogation from Gentry to converse too much with a Daery. Other employments do far better become him: and pursued with a discreet care; may more improve him, then to intermeddle in such inferior offices; which, as they suit meanly with him, so they decline him from the care of what may more properly become him, and more amply profit him. There was nothing which aliened the affections of those Assyrians, more from their effeminate King, than his too familiar conversing, and manual employing of himself in the use and exercise of his needle; weaving of Purple; and inuring himself to such feminine Offices, as held no correspondence with the quality of a Prince, nor the entertainment of any generous Subject: Plutarch. Licosth. Macrob. For if Agesilaus deserved to be in some sort condemned, for stooping to so low and unprincely a pleasure, as riding on Cockhorse with his children; which employed only a tender parental affection: much more deserve such to be highly censured, who debase themselves in such servile, and un-virile Offices, as detract from the honour of their place, and occasion many times Domestic distaste. In a word, Gentlemen, as you have more generous employments to retain you, more improving cares and studies to entertain you: so have you more imitable Patterns to propose unto you, what may infinitely become you. Eagle spirits cannot stoop to low lures. Reflect upon your family; and by your fair examples, inform your Posterity. Leave to your noble Consorts, the care and charge of what best suits with their sex: Employ yourselves in what may better correspond with your state. Different hands mixed in these, will rather redound to your prejudice, than profit; disparagement, than credit. As you have made your choice, recommend to that choice her peculiar charge: this will heighten the opinion of your discretion, and raise an addition to her care. Thus if you shall demean yourselves to your well-disposed Consorts; you shall find them ready, with chaste and cheerful bosoms, to receive you; with affable, and affectionate looks to entertain you; with sweet innocent smiles to enchain you: For, so constantly united unto you shall be their love, as they will hold it their highest terrestrial happiness, there to plant where you love: your danger shall become their greatest terror; your safety their gracefullest honour. For, as it shall be the fullest period of their joy to enjoy you: so shall it be accounted by them their dis-passionatest Scene of grief to forgo you. Nor shall you need any other Monument to memorise their love, than those sweet joys they conceive in your life, those sincere tears they sacrifice at your death. NOw to you, Gentlewomen, are we to address our discourse. You have heard what Conjugal Offices are to be tendered to you: The offices of a wife to her husband. and we must now lay down such peculiar offices, as are to be rendered by you. For Husbands, we have furnished you with such choice, as their persons accommodated with fair, and generous qualities, admit no change. Be you the same in affection, which they express themselves in a votive and loyal profession. Let me tell you, though you be the weaker sex; yet that weakness must not give the least privilege to any stain. The Roman Ladies were so far from giving occasion, as they usually estranged themselves from places of suspicion. Now, the only means to secure you, is so to fortify those parts within you, as no dangerous Pioneer may betray you, nor engage your safety to the assaults of a glozing enemy. We have many English Proverbs, both pithy and pregnant, but for your use none so consequent, as that Arabian Adage: Shut your windows without, Obs●ruantur fenestrae, ut luceat dom●s. that your house may shine within. It is related (for ancient Annals would have no memorable action, were it either to the fame or infamy of the Agent, shrouded) that Tarpeia betrayed the gates of the Capitol to the enemy, only upon promise, that they should throw her the Bracelets, which they wore on their left arms; which they accordingly performed, throwing also their Targets (to counterpoise those Ornaments) wherewith she was pressed to death. It is true indeed, Price, Prayer, and Power are dangerous Assailants to Forts of fancy: But to rebaite the force of these, hold Price at such a distance, where it holds in Competition with your honour, as it deserves not to be admitted into the scale, where a generous spirit is Commander. And for Prayer, though it be a persuasive Orator, yet must it be put to silence, when it is abused, and made an Agent to corrupt Honour. Lastly, for Power, that resolute Megara may give you a brave Lesson in her tragic constant Expression: Whom Power can quell, she knows not how to die. No; Sen in Herc. Fur. as Price is too servile a Solicitor to procure love in any loyal Lover; so is Prayer too uncivil an Orator to work any impression in Arguments of Honour: And for Power, it is a poor grounded fancy that will yield her Fort up, when she may keep it, to so intrusive an Usurper. Now, there is no way better to remain safe from such Impairers, and Impeachers of Honour, then to avoid conversing with them. Corrupt society is a dangerous Introduction to any inward Malady. Posthumia could not be taxed more for her Immodesty, than Semphronia or julia were for consorting with light company. It is to be supposed, you are now fixed, Macrob. because espoused: You must then keep your eyes at home; not like those Lamiaes, whose custom was to incase them in a box; for so they might remain uselessly shut to the necessitated care of your family; but from opening them to any light Objects of Vanity. Dinah had not erred, had she not strayed: nor had she strayed, had her eyes been restrained. We may imagine that noble Lady Armenia, when she was invited, with her Husband, to the solemnising of those princely Nuptials of magnificent Cyrus, that she might have seen many goodly, and amiable personages, pleasing and attractive Objects: such as wanton eyes would have taken infinite delight in: But how sixth was her outward eye on him solely, to whom she stood engaged by an inward tye, may appear by that discreet modest answer, which she returned her Husband: who at night when they were come home, demanded of her (it may be out of a causeless jealousy, which he conceived of her) how she liked that princely Bridegroom, whether she thought him not to be a fair, and beautiful Prince, or no? and what personage in all that brave assembly rendered the most graceful presence to her eye? Truth, says she, I know not: for all the while I was forth, I cast mine eyes upon no other but thyself. Habitus mentis in corporu statu cernitur. Gestus corporis indicat qualitatem mentis. Vid. Gre. in Mor. Bern. in Epist. Aug. in Confess. Nazian. This was an excellent pattern to imitate! When no Object could so take her eye, as to convey the least impression of deluding fancy to her heart. There is small doubt, but those experimental Maxims hold constantly currant: That the very state and composure of the mind is to be seen in the carriage and posture of the body: And that by the gesture and composition of the body, is to be discovered the quality, and disposition of the mind. So as, were one as cunning in his carriage, as Tiberius was in his; who could walk in the Clouds to his friends; and with pretended glozes delude his foes: Or as subtle, as that Apostate julian, whom Gregory Nazianzen called a Chameleon, because he could change himself into all shapes and colours: or as crafty as Herod Antipas, that cunning Fox, who could ingratiate himself with his foes, for his own ends: yet in the secretest, and subtlest carriage of all these, we shall ever find by the outward gesture, Luke 13.32. some probable appearance of the inward temper. Ambition cannot walk so privately, nor retire herself from the eyes of men so cunningly, nor deceive a weak eye so much with a seeming Humility: but some action or other will draw out to life his Anatomy, Themistocles may walk in the night, and have none but the Moon and Stars to be his Spectators; yet for all this, there be such observing Spies and pioneers within him, as the night cannot be so dark, nor his retired thoughts so close, but humane eyes may see him; and discover too the necessity of his walk: for they find by his discontented look, and ambitious gate, that Miltiades triumph will not suffer him to sleep: So as, no sooner do his inward thoughts betray him, than his outward eyes display him: Every trifling action becomes his Discoverer; every weak passion or broken fancy breathes forth the quality of his distemper. Let me, Gentlewomen, return again to you, and make such useful Application of these, as may improve you: Stand your minds affected to public assemblies, or private visits? Do these Interludes, or pastimes of the time delight you? Begin you to dis-affect a Country life, and with a night persuasive Rhetoric, to incline the affections of your easy Husbands to plant in the City; and to leave their ancient Manor-houses, sometimes memorable for Hospitality? Trust me, these are no promising Arguments of Modesty. Plants transplanted do seldom prosper: and Beauty exposed to all hazards, highly endangers the preservation of Honour: In urbe maxima confluunt vitia. Bona consortia, vita solatia. Cities and places of great confluence have brought to composed minds much prejudice; especially, where a Recession or Diversion from employment leaves the mind to talk with itself, without bestowing itself on any useful design, public or private. Nay, by estranging her acquaintance from good company, whose advice might assist her; whose precepts might inform her; and whose pleasing harmless discourse might delight her. And in exchange of such friendly Consorts, entertain society with light fantastic spirits, from whom no other profit can be derived, then what Vanity hath suggested, and the conceit of a deluded fancy hatched. O how many have preserved their reputes untouched, their names unquestioned, their fames unblemished, during their reside in the Country, who, by entering acquaintance with light fashions, and loose Consorts, incurred much infamy! But as it is not the Place, but Grace, which works most effectually with the soul; be it your care to intend your inward cure: your pretence for the City may be physic; but if that physic of your bodies, beget in your minds an infirmity; it had been much better for you to have retained still those sickly bodies, you had in the Country, then by so dangerous a recovery to labour of a far worse malady in the City. Petrarch. de remed. utriusquè fortunae. Caro quò agilior, Anima debilior: Anima quò sortior▪ Caro infirmior. In Pandect. That sententious Petrarch could say, It made no great matter, how the outward house (alluding to the body) fared, so the inward house (alluding to the soul) flourished: how the outward subsisted, so the inward were supported: Yea, we shall observe how the decay, or decrease of the one, becomes many times the repair and increase of the other. For too much agility of body, begets now and then a debility in the soul. Restrain then your eyes from those outward Objects, which may any way darken the Prospect of your inward house. It is one of our especial cares in our Architecture, that our houses be pleasantly seated; and to fair prospects dilated. And we hold it an unneighbourly Office, Hippol. de Collib. that any one whose contignate dwelling boundeth or butteth near us, should upon any new superstructure, or late erected story darken the light of our windows: This must not be endured; the Questmon must be informed, the wrong done us must be aggravated; nothing omitted, to have the injury of our Lesser-lights reform, and our unsufferable wrongs (as we immeritedly account them) redressed. Mean time, any ill disposed Neighbour, any vicious or distempered Intruder, may at will and pleasure encroach upon the liberty of our higher Rooms, these glorious structures of our souls. Pride may damp and darken our Lights, by over-topping them; Avarice may stop and straiten our Lights, by soiling them; Riot may close and clot up our Lights, by cloying them; Lust may raze and deface our Lights, by peeping and peering through them; Wrath may bruise and break down our Lights, by assailing them; Envy may obscure, nay immure our Lights by interposing them: And Sloth, like a more fruitless than harmless weed, may blanche and blemish our Lights by overspreading them. Come then, Ladies, let me become your watchful Belman, Hang out your Lights. The night you walk in is very dark; and dangerous be those Assailants, to the Court of Honour, which encounter you. Lay aside those Love-sports, which your deluded fancies dictate to you, and falsely tell you, that they infinitely become you. Lay aside, I say, those numerous Love-sport trifles, distinguished by these idolatrous titles: your favour, your Fancy, your Complexion, your Affection, your Daisy, Pancy, Myrrha, Venus, and Phoebe. O exchange these Love-babies with divine graces! This will incomparably become you, and make you amiable in his sight, who made you. Suffer not your eyes to wander; but fix upon that Centre, where all Mortality must of necessity take harbour: Obserantur aedes, quò interiores splendeant sedes. Quae unius cellulae clausa angustiis, latitudine coeli fruebatur. Her. de laud. Asellae; Epist. 15. Obstruite quinque fenestras, ut luceat domus. Saint Hierome gives this excellent testimony of that devout Woman, Asella; who being confined to a Cell, enjoyed the whole circumference of Heaven. Though I do not limit you to a Cell, I would have your thoughts confined to one Orb; seeing they cannot be circumscribed by any limit but Heaven. Thus far have I addressed my discourse to you, for composing your affections, and contriving your fancy to your Choice, whose election admits no Change: I am now to caution you, and that briefly of a dangerous Guest, which like the Snake in the Fable, many times disturbs the quiet of a whole house: And this is violent and distempered passion. The indiscreet fury of some Wives have made Prodigals of frugal men: Yea, those who never knew what a loose or debauched course meant; nor were much addicted to any liberty, became uncivil, and irregular by their Wife's fury. And howsoever I can by no means approve this aversion from goodness in the Man, yet must I highly condemn the impatience of the Woman, who abused so much the temper and good nature of the Man. Entertain you then no acquaintance with these sprightly Viragoes, whose only sweet temper is ever to be out of temper. Let not a frown sit on your brow, nor a spark of fury dart from your eye; nor one syllable of harsh language from your tongue. Soft words mitigate wrath; Observe this rule then, it will so prepare you against all suffering; as you shall taste an incomparable sweetness in your suffering; rejoicing most in that encounter, wherein you seemed most to suffer. Give no place to wrath, but give place to your Husbands in time of their wrath. The only way to allay passion, is to calm it with an expostulation. This that bravely composed Roman Lady, made excellent use of; who when she found her Husband quite off the hinges; affecting nothing more; then to catch at offence; with a sweet countenance, and pleasing language, she entered into a fair treaty with him after this manner. A discreet loving Treaty, betwixt a Wife and her Husband: recommended to the constant practice of affectionate Consorts. O my dear Quintianus, whence may these distempers grow? you had a juliana, I must confess, a Consort well deserving your choice; and because your now espoused Chariclea supplies her place, doth it repent you of your change? And yet, me thinks, should you recollect yourself, and in an equal scale weigh your Chariclea's love, you would hold it an ungrateful guerdon, to requite her loyal love with a distasteful look. Your first choice was fair, incomparably fair, of a graceful presence, persuasive language! It is confessed. Yet knew this Abstract of perfection, to break forth into passion. But she knew her own worth, so as passion lodging in such a Subject, might admit an easy dispensation; and make that Eagerness appear a Virtue in her; whereas even Mildness, seated in so imperfect a Piece as myself, may present itself like a Vice, being shrouded with so mean a Cover! Believe it Sir, as Nature has bestowed little on me, to make me proud; relinquish me for ever, if my respect to honour shall not supply those defects of a more exquisite feature: your anger shall not beget in me the least distemper; but, if at any time I be moved, it shall be, because you are discontented. Have you occasion to rejoice? I shall increase it. Have you cause to grieve? I shall allay it. Should you in any extremity suffer, I should desire nothing more than to become your sharer. Many, very many might you have had, more rich in portion, more choice in proportion, but never any more true in her affection. In one word; as there is no office in Chariclea, which shall not bestow itself to Quintianus honour, during life: so may it be Quintianus goodness to accept the loyal sacrifice of her devoutest love. This Conjugal protest wrought so impressive an effect in her too passionate Husband; as, recollecting his disjointed affections, he became so truly enamoured of his Choice, as the conceit of her imparalleled virtues estranged his resolves, not only from the least apprehension of a future Change: but fairly attempered in him all Motives of choler; so as, it was rare to find in him upon any occasion whatsoever, any appearance of distemper, much less of any inconsiderate anger. There is no doubt but grounds of distaste may be easily suggested; especially, where either jealousy, arising from an exuberance of fancy; or an intended desire to displease, works upon the conceit of the party. But admit, Gentlewomen, your eyes and ears were so strongly possessed of your injuried Bed, as you may visibly perceive a breach and violation of that faith, which by a sacred vote, should in reason and religion have admitted no blemish unto death: yet if you shall find a relenting disposition in them, do not aggravate your wrongs by too bitter an expression of them. The confession of a wrong should beget in you an indulgent smile; yea, though a modest shame could not brook to make too open a discovery of what looseness of folly had committed; yet, though never so covertly shrouded, being with a resolved contrition closed, and not hypocritically clothed, it deserves to be ingenuously remitted. This might be in him instanced, who desirous by a line to discover the irregularity of his life, brought in a liveless Monument to witness unto the world the relenting guilt of a sorrowful delinquent. This Babe had proved one of our Wits, Primitias prolis teneas Botolphia sedes; Ingenio pollens, palladis arte potens; Prae s●ciis docilis, puerilibus Argus in annis: Ast Spurii stirpes obtinuere leves. Vid. Remains of a greater work. Aug. no doubt, But Bastard-slips do seldom take deep root: Botolph, prepare for this small corpse a shrine; The crime, believe it, was not his but mine. But time would sooner fail me, than this subject scantle me; I must not enlarge myself too much, lest I deceive your trust. One thing I am to advise you of, which observed, may prevent many occasions of distaste, which are usually ministered. As I formerly advertised your Husbands, not to intermeddle in those feminine employments, which concern your charge: so be it your modesty to decline from those interesses, which properly admit their care. It is an hateful thing, saith that devout Father, to see a Man practise the Spindle, and a Woman to handle the Spear. You have peculiar offices equally designed; let them not be improperly mixed. That Roman was much condemned for imparting secrets of state to his wife; but his wife was more publicly taxed for laying down grounds how to rectify the state to her Husband. This is a presuming evil, and too largely spreading, said that Cynic, to be cured, till self-conceit, by a timely reproof, be rebaited. Humility is the way to prevent it: for though Pride be a dangerous mate to accompany man: yet it is never so domineering, as when it pleads for Sovereignty in a woman's mind. Remember then that divine Mandate; it will be a means to calm it: Gen. 3.16. Thy desire shall be subject to thine Husband, and he shall rule over thee. Which subjection, as it implies a distinct condition, so it begets in every family an harmonious order, or disposition: If there be danger in civil Wars, Victi victoresquè in lachrymas fusi. Cadmaea victoria. there can be no great security in Domestic Brawls: where both the Conqueror, and Conquered, become equally endamaged. Do not contest then for precedency, since the divine Law hath given your Consort the priority. And in one word, to the end you may appear more amiable in his sight who made you; and in his choice, for whom he made you; retain in memory that divine Lesson, for it prescribes you a perfect Rule of Direction, 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉. Ambros. li. 1. de offic. ca 18. how to behave you selves in your whole course or conversation: In your very motion, gesture, and gate, observe Modesty; it will infinitely become you, and attract a kind of reverend esteem in those who eye you. This will make your Husbands to second what a Noble Gentleman sometimes pronounced in testimony of his good fortune, and approvement of his choice: Who, as it was long before he married, so did much happiness crown his expectance, after such time as he was espoused. I thank God (said he) that I abandoned my conceit, and thus embraced an honourable state. As I was long time in choosing, I shall be longer ere my thoughts incline to a changing. As increase of Posterity put me upon the one, so shall my vowed fidelity divert me from the other. Her condition, whom I have taken, does so suit me, as I should make myself unworthy such a choice, should I engage my desires to any foreign fancy. Undeserving is he of a worthy one, who entangles his affections with more than one. This is the way then, Gentlewomen, to ingratiate yourselves in their bosoms with whom you live, and whom only you are entirely to love; to make a contract betwixt your eyes and hearts, when at any time you go abroad, or are admitted to any necessary visit: that your eyes may not become treacherous Tarpeia's to your hearts. Nor suffer any intrusive thought to enter, that may encroach upon your honour. For it is no less error to have a desire to be sought by others, then to seek after others. To cast out deluding eyes, and, like subtle Falconers, with light deceiving lures, to seize on amorous fools; which howsoever it imparadise them, it cannot choose but highly disparage you. For speaking eyes are such dangerous Orators, that though they allure others to folly, they ever engage themselves most to apparent misery. But your discreet moderation has taught you a better Lesson; your thoughts are impatient, in giving reins to any such diversion. One Sun is but for one Sphere; one Diadem for one Head; and one Conjugal Embrace for one Bed; this best becomes you, this crownes you. This, as it confirms your loyal love, while you are living: so will it leave a memory of your goodness at your dying: Vxorem vivam amare voluptas est, defunctam religio. For, as to love a Wife while she lives, is a pleasing fancy; so to retain the memory of a Wife when she dies, is an act of Piety. Thus having sufficiently treated of this Conjugal Office, which deserves pre-eminence, because dignified by a primitive Ordinance: we purpose now to descend to our second Observance, wherein we are briefly to recommend to your candid judgements, the distinct qualities of parental and Filial Offices. Observ. 2. Of parental Offices. A parental care reflects properly upon two distinct Objects. Parent's, as they bear a natural love to those they get, so are they to have an innate care in providing for those they have got. Which parental care properly reflects upon two Objects: Internal, external: Internal, the better to enable and prepare them for the happy fruition of things eternal; external, to accommodate them in a way of livelihood, lest they should become indigent, or necessitous in things temporal: The former has proper relation to nurture; Arist. in Eth. the latter to such necessaries, as conduce to the conservation of nature. For the first, it is an excellent Lesson, which the Wiseman giveth: Prov. 22.6. Teach a Child in the trade of his way, and when he is old, he will not depart from it. We say, vessels keep a savour of their first liquor: As clothe died in grain retains his prime tincture. How cautious then should Parents be of their children's nurture? If we should take a review of preceding Ages, we might find with what diligence and intentive care, the very ancient Pagans provided Schoolmasters for their Children; not only to instruct them in Principles of learning, but discipline of living. Yea, even our most ancient and eminent Princes, (so much was Sovereignty enamoured on Philosophy, men of highest quality on moral Piety) retained ever some Philosophers to their Familiars: Vid. Plutarch. Trog. Pomp. Macrobius. in aturn Stobae. Appian. Alex. Patere. as Alexander, Aristotle; ●arius, Herodetus; Augustus, ●iso; Pompeius, Plauto; Titus, Pl●ni●; Adrian, Secundus; Trajan, Plutarch; Antonius, Apollonius; Theodosius, Clandinus; S●v●rus, Fabatus. And there were not only employed in their own conference: but in composing and delivering Precepts, or rules of Instruction to their Children: you then, Parents, who retain in you better grounded hopes, then airy thoughts of Elysian fields; you, I say, who treasure great hopes in your Posterity, and with a provident eye labour to improve their estates, by advancing them to places of dignity: Be it your primary care, to enrich them inwardly; that they may know how to manage an estate, How a Prodigals profuseness abuseth his parent's providence. before they come to be Masters of an estate: Many have leapt into fair and full fortunes, conferred on them by their Parent's Providence; who, as they kn●w little how their too careful Fathers got it; so with as much indifference they dispatched themselves of it. Education, which is a second nature, had given them no better nurture, then to follow feathers in the air; their best of Philosophy was Hunting or Falconry. And more excusable had it been, if they had to closed: But corruption of manners stripped them of all their Manors: forty entertaining those Consorts of death, loose Panders, or light Parasites, they exhaulted those streaming treasures, and exuberant fortunes, in one year, which many years accompanied with watchful ●ares, had to solicitously gathered. Nor is it indeed a thing possible, that young Gentlemen, who are mounted to high ernstes, attended by numerous Retainers; supplied with variety of pleasures; but indigent in these mental treasures, should devote themselves without some miraculous inspiration, to any studious employments Learning, With such transported spirits as these, divine airs are accounted choice Canto's only for dull ears. Our ignorant gentry estrangeth Philosophy from their society. The reason why young Gentlemen are not in learning delighted is because they are not in principles of learning sufficiently grounded Vid. Petrarch. as it was a stranger to them in their youthful minority; so the very thought of it begets a fastidious averseness to their memory. Books are for retired spirits; but soon tired would their spirits be, to be so retired. Divine fancies, they hold I remiticall frenzies. Such Studies must never make them lean: for they profess themselves Aliens to all Stories, but Legends of Love. O what a word of disgrace in these Novices ears, is the title of a Scholar? And to estrange themselves the better from such pedantical Consorts, they have resolved already, never to entertain any such for their Follower or Retainer, that holds least correspondence with a Philosopher. The reason is, as their Parent's indulgence would not suffer them to learn when they were young: so now they hold themselves too old to learn. To prevent this malady (too Epidemical in most places) be it your principal care to prepare such Tutors for them, as may instruct them in the Principles of divine and humane Learning: And by their incessant diligence, so enable them, as they may taste a sweetness in those Sciences they have learned. For the only reason of his neglect, or remissness in Arguments of Knowledge, is their deficience in Knowledge. For did they but understand the sweetness of Learning, they would prefer the incomparable delight of one hours' study, before a myriad of hours employed in vanity. That brave Picene had arrived, no doubt, at this port; who, though his Descent was noble, his Revenues ample, and his Objects of pleasure many; yet he ingenuously protested, that the least grain of Philosophy, which either his Tutor's industry, or his own sedulity had purchased him, was of more weight in his scale, than all the revenues that were left him. Truth is, as youth is most docile to learn, so it is many times most facile to err. And because divers and sundry are the dispositions, with which our Masters are to encounter: so there is required in them; a free and plenteous measure of discretion, to the end they may accommodate their discipline to every one's disposition. The highest point of discretion in a Schoolmaster, is to find out the disposition of his Scholar. Some natures they shall find sweet and affable; others rough and intractable. Some apt to get, and no less apt to forget; others flow to get, but apt to retain. Some to be won by an apple; others to be taught by the rod. And in these discoveries▪ I should with Parents rather to recommend the Scrutiny to their Masters; then by too much indulgency to interest themselves. He deserves not to be a Master, whose discretion applies not itself to the disposition of his Scholar. Neither is our discourse only restrained to Arguments of Learning. I am not ignorant how children descending from one root, may differ in the quality of their mind. Some are not capable at School, who may show themselves sufficient for a trade. As you then shall find your children disposed, be it your care to have them so bestowed: as neither your too much indulgence may decline their improvement: nor your too remiss care beget in them a neglect of their advancement. For youth, as it may become depraved by too much cockering, so may it be nipped in the bud, and consequently too much discouraged, by too rigid a curbing. Be it then your prime care to lay a fair foundation: and to give them such accomplishment by a generous Education, as their very posture may confirm them branches of honour: Scorning to appear in that design, that may in the least manner derogate from their place, or lay a blemish on their blood. If thou be'st Cato's son, said that brave Roman, do nothing unworthy of Cato's Father. This Pattern, but in a more divine imitation, should all children retain in their memory: to prove unto the world, that they are true native Scienes derived from such a Family: from whence, as they received their birth, so they labour to improve it by presenting good examples upon this Theatre of earth. O if inconsiderate youth did but know, what precious time it bestows in trifling vanity; Inconsiderate youth accounts the fruitless expense of time a mere pastime. as in dedicating those first hours of the day, in crisping those wanton love-locks; in cerussing and repairing a decayed beauty, by idolatrizing themselves in the reflection of a flattering Glass; by composing an adulterate countenance, purposely to induce fancy; and, like wanton Dalilah, to rob deluded man of his strength by their lascivious folly! Again, how it bestows the afternoon in needless visits, Immodest Objects, light presentments; but scarcely reserves one minute, after so many mis-spended hours, for works of devotion! O, I say, would youth but lay these to his heart, and close the period of his thoughts with this short expostulation: O what have I done! He would return no doubt with the poor penitent Prodigal, and acknowledge his sin; He would feed no longer on the husks of vanity; nor go astray, any more in those by-paths of folly. He would return, I say, with the Turtle, truly mourning; bestow the remainder of his days in repenting: and desire no longer to live after he desisted from that pious resolution, which had so wholly possessed him, as it had left no hope for vanity to seize on him. Now to perfect this good work, let it be the especial care of Parents, to educate their children religiously, to season their infancy with Principles of Piety. For there is nothing that makes elther youth or age more wavering in points of Religion (next temporary respects, which too often times cool divine effects) than ignorance in the grounds of Religion. Now, as it is the office of Parents to plant them in it: so is it their duty to suffer no temporal respect to decline them from it. It was that learned Father's resolution; 〈◊〉 sen●x ten●io ●idem, in qu● 〈…〉 s●m Hier. ad Pammach. & Ocean de error. Orig. I will hold that faith now when I am old, which I was nursed in when I was young. There is more beauty in our Christian truth, then ever appeared in Helen of Greece. This moved that victorious Emperor Constantine the Great, to protest, what his princely constancy had ever expressed, that he preferred his happiness in being a Member of Christ's Church, before his being the Head of an Empire. Seeing that the privileges of faith are of larger extent, than the Confines of an Empire; and of that inestimable price, as no treasure is to be compared to her: it becomes every sincere Professor, to desire rather to suffer, . than so incomparable a Princess should suffer in her honour: nay, rather to perish by speaking, than that Truth should perish for want of a Speaker. Having thus laid down the foundation, whereon the first hopes of Youth are to be grounded; with such eminent graces, wherewith it is to be seasoned: and such consequent Principles of Religion, wherein necessarily it is to be confirmed: We are now to descend to our secondary parental care; which as it is not to precede the former, so is it not to be neglected in a proportionable measure and order. The soul indeed, as it is of a more precious substance than the body, so ought their cares to be of a distinct quality. This the Poet intimated elegantly: Less is the loss of Fortune then of Fame, Levius es● dispendium sert●●ae quam famae, famae quam anim●. Chrysol. L●●●●t. More of a Soul then of a glorious Name. Divers then, and of distinct nature be these different cares: wherein Parents are to be so much the more cautious, in regard their too anxious and immoderate cares, may become highly noxious. O how many by doing too much for their Children, have undone their Children! Be it then your especial aim, in these temporal cares, to improve your means by honest ways. A Revenue got with honesty, is a thriving portion to Posterity: whereas, Estates built on rapine, or the ruin of others, what shallow foundations have such Fabrics, being many times no sooner raised, then razed! These illegitimate Patrimonies, as that grave Moral styled them, seldom survive an age: for the macerating cares of an exacting Father, treasure their hopes most commonly on a prodigal Successor. Howsoever then, that Apostolical admonition is ever to be remembered; and by a discreet Providence to be seconded: If there be any that provideth not for his own, 1 Tim 5.8. and namely for them of his Household, be denieth the faith, and is worse than an jufidell: yet let a religious fear ever accompany this care. God's honour must be in the first place; or there can be no peace in any place. Now to advance his honour, and obtain favour in the presence of our best Master, let not the provision for a Family, nor improvement of a Posterity make you remiss in your care of eternity. Be owners of your own; seek not to reap, what you have not sown. Scorn to be Intruders in another's right; or, in the confidence of your power, to crush your inferior; or to grind the face of the poor, by working on his necessity who flies to you for succour; or by removing buttals, to enlarge your boundiers; or by any means, to surprise others, to enhance your injurious Co●ers. The Partridge (saith Ambrose) makes her a nest of stolen eggs, which she hath not laid, but as soon as the birds are hatched, the true Mother calls them all away from their thievish Stepdame: This may be the proper Emblem of the covetous and cruel man, Incubat auro. Such encroaching Brooders be all unconscionable Misers, who sit hatching those golden eggs (to use the words of the Apologue) which they never lay, Talis substantia non est stabilis; aut ipsis invenientibus est peritura, aut à malis haeredibus es● dissipanda. Chrysost. in Matth. but, to their grief, must be stripped by the true owners, of what they so immoderately love. For the Oppressor's wealth is like Achans Wedge: Turnus Belt: Dagons' house broke Dagons' neck; and all usurping Possessors are to expect the like fate. Gnipho the Usurer (as Lucian feigneth) lieth in Hell lamenting his miserable estate, that one Rodochares; an incestuous Prodigal did on earth consume his goods wastefully in the surfeits of pleasure, which he with care, and unjust means had scraped together. The way to decline these laments, and prevent those infernal tears; is with discretion to moderate your cares and fears. Let not an unjust nor injurious thought seize on you▪ nor a desire to improve yourselves by another's ruin surprise you; Let not a Widow's tear, nor an Orphan's shriek bear record against you▪ These have shrill voices, and will find an Avenger: One who has a Bottle to preserve the tears of the one, as a precious Elixir; and an Ear to compassionate the cries of the other, like an indulgent Father: The way then in these temporal cares, to make you happy Parents, is with that indifferency to value gold, as to make Godliness your chiefest gaint: To prefer the approvement of equity, before the improvement of a posterity; To rejoice more in honest poverty, than in those swelling titles of iniquity. For believe it, that little Commonweal of man cannot choose, but enjoy much quietness, where Conscience becomes Sovereigness, and receives Pre-eminence. Now, there is one error that I have observed in Parents, which were well to be rectified: it is too generally spreading, and consequently exacts the more expedite prevention. It shall be our care to prescribe a cure: which if it admit a cure, it shall amply recompense our care. Many, too many make it their prime aim, their principal care in preferring their Children, to fix upon Inheritance, or Portion. Their sons must marry with C●●cires, and so join land to land. A survey of their estates with whom they intent to match, must precede all inducements of love. Grounds of fancy must be ranked in the second siege. Proportion is to veil to Portion. Real affection to a rich Possession. It was only hope of Promotion, that preferred this love's motion. Were those inward Ornaments of this great Inheretrix never so meanly accoutred, being thus encountered, and with such rare fortunes embellished, they must be above their estimate valued: there is not so much as the least question made of the young Gentleman's love. The Parent's choice must admit no change. Mean time, what miseries have attended such enforced Marriages, every age can afford variety of doleful Instances: Where an union of hands begot a dis-union of hearts. The reason might be this; indirect affections seldom receive a blessing. They invert the use of marriage, who make Portion Directrice of Affection: Fancy subordinate to Fortune. Love is not to be made such a Page of: Be it then your office to examine the affection of your Child, before you engage their persons to an enforced choice. Though a good fortune be not to be rejected, yet is a good liking betwixt the parties to be preferred. In a word, let virtue be the aim: and the Marriage-day cannot choose but close with a glorious Even. In bestowing likewise your younger Children upon Trades, you are to be very circumspect in the choice of their Masters, with the quality of their professions. Ingenuous nature's suit not well with rigid Masters. Neither are tender, Vide Plut. vid. Var. Macrobius. in Sa●●●. or delicate constitutions for toiling ●or sinnewy professions. This was especially observed by the ancient Romans, which made them exquisite Artists in those manual mysteries. We have here in this our flourishing Island many Staple Trades; wherein, as it is no derogation for our Gentry to interest their younger Children; so by God's blessing, and their good endeavour, they become many times so well improved, as they need not obsequiously ingratiate themselves to any inferior favour, nor rely on a pentionary supply, or any necessitated succour, being able by a civil remonstrance to render courtesy for courtesy to their elder Brother. Neither can I approve the Indulgence of such Parents, whose too tender affection towards their Children, declines them from all hopes or helps of preferment in this kind. Birds we see, after such time as they have brought forth their young ones, will not for ever foster them under their wings. They must be sent abroad to provide themselves food to relieve them, to build them nests to receive them, and fitting mates to consort them. And must these be wiser in their generation, than those nobler Creatures, who partake of Reason? These observe the means by which they are directed to conserving ends. Now, would you have these means defined; they are properly styled, the way by which we are directed, to that scope or mark, at which we aimed. As you are then by nature their parents, be it your care to raise them means of supportance. Media vi● pe●ere? via dirigitur, quâ ad●●ctam ●endi●ur. Fodere nondum didicerunt, & mendicare crabuerunt▪ fures igitur non cai●s vident qu●m cum iis currunt, & 〈◊〉 adulteris portione ponunt. Ista ne generosa cers●amus vitia, quae antiquae 〈◊〉 detraxerunt auspicia? Pandect. As they had from you their being, let them receive from you grounds of subsistence. Let not your delicacy estrange their spirits from Industry; lest by too much hugging them, with the Ape in the Fable, you stifle them. Send them then forth into the world, that as you have educated them, so you may reap the fruit of your provisional care, by their improvement. For, trust me, highly are such parents to be condemned, who leave their estates so perplexed, as they recommend the livelihood of the Younger, to the remiss consideration, or doubtful commiseration of the Elder. For these, many times, entertain such profuse Followers, as their vast and unbounded riot begets a neglect in them, towards such as were recommended to them, by making Servants of their Brothers, and Brothers of their Parasites. Besides, the charge of Annuities, as they exhaust the estate of the Elder, making him live all his time like an ancient descendible Beggar; so it begets an irregular course in the Younger: who, either falling short in receipt of his annual allowance, or exceeding his bounds, engageth his perishing hopes to some desperate action, which in the end spins to a full length, the thread of his ruin. So many fearful examples, both ancient and modern, present themselves daily upon the Stage of our State, as they need no further illustration in this kind. That Maxim holds ever authentic: Brethren are ever kindest one to another, when they are least beholding one to another. Assign then to every one their peculiar portion, which will become such a firm Cement or ligament to their affection; as their mutual supplies may produce reciprocal ties: by which harmonious freedom, or propriety of living; one may enjoy the others society, without the least conceit of a too tedious beholding. In the disposing too of your estates, let me advise you not to neglect opportunity of doing good to your own, now while it is in your power to dispose of your own. Many by deferring the settling of their estates to their death, become abridged of their intents, by being prevented with the inopinate arrest of death: and so leave their distracted estates to be determined by Lawyers, who being said with fat fees, make fools of your intended heirs: leaving them after many an humbly complaining to bemoan their lean fortunes, when they fall into consideration how their extracted estates, by those numerous Suit atoms, are resolved into papers: And how their long practice in a litigious kind of Alchemy, by a precious pragmatical powder, has reduced all their Chemical fortunes into the Remaines of a greater Work, the Elixir of poverty. Parents are to dispose of their estates now while they stand seized of estates: lest their decease alter the intention of their estates. Sickness is a sufficient burden of itself: disburden then yourselves, by disposing of your estates before sickness cometh: not by dis-possessing yourselves of them, for so you may give others power over you; but by a discreet and deliberate disposure of them, that temporal cares may less entangle you, when sickness shall surprise you: and your inward house be set in such order, as your composed Souls may receive rest to your comfort, and God's honour. Thus far have we enlarged our discourse, in laying before you the care which you are to have in spiritual affairs, for improving your Children in that best knowledge, which may truly enable them for their highest inheritance: as likewise how you are in a conscionable provision to address your inferior care for their temporal subsistence. In which two respects, as you shall perform the office of prudent and affectionate Parents: so shall those rich treasures, which you Deposit in succeeding hopes of your Children, crown your silver hairs with incomparable comfort: For as this religious care was sincerely discharged by you: so shall you receive those filial Offices from yours, as may amply recompense your care; and, as you shall now hear, return to their Labourer a deserving hire. The offices of Children to their Parents. YOu have heard what is required of Parents to their Children; their incessant cares; jealous fears; and these intermixed with such doubtful hopes, as not one hour without a corroding care; nor a promising hope without a threatening fear. It was observed in Augustus, that so long as his two daughters julia and Livia were in his presence, he could never return any expression to his Council with much resolvedness. His mind was not fixed upon an Answer, but upon his daughter's behaviour. Where he collected by the company they frequented how their affections were inclined. If julia converse with a Ruffian, it becomes no less a sting to her father's heart, than a stain to his daughter's reputation. Whereas if Livia enter into discourse with any grave Senator; this pleasing object redounds equally to his solace, as well as her honour. Now to recompense these numerous cares and anxious fears, which become constant companions to Parent's hearts, let Children return a grateful remonstrance of their duty and zeal in these three distinct respects. First, Children are bound to render unto their parents expressions of their duty and zeal in 3 respects. OBEDIENCE. Ecclus. 7.27.28. in tendering them the sacrifice of Obedience; Secondly, in performing that filial office with all reverence. Thirdly, in affording them, if necessity should thereto enforce them, their best supportance. Of these we shall take occasion to treat severally, and with that perspicuity, as the very youngest and rawest in these offices, may understand his peculiar duty. It was an excellent admonition of that son of Sirach; Honour thy Father from thy whole heart, and forget not the sorrows of thy Mother. Which admonition in the next ensuing Verse he strengtheneth with this Emphatical remembrance: Remember that thou wast borne of them, and how canst thou recompense them the things that they have done for thee. This confirms that Maxim of the Stagyrite: Magistris, di●s & Parentibus non 〈◊〉 reddi equivalens. Arist. Eth 9 To our Masters, our Gods and Parents can never be rendered an equivalence. And if that divine rule hold, that the obedience we exhibit to our Superiors, we even exhibit to God himself, who is the Lord paramount, and in whose presence the highest Potentates are inferiors; what superiority in a degree of such propinquity exacts of us a more filial duty? whence it was, that blessed Basill falling into a serious contemplation of this tender native affection, Parents nostros ut propria viscera d●ligamus. Basil. M●retur caecitatis suae subire supplicium, qui parentum vultus torvo visu respexit, & elatis oculis laeserit pietar●●. Greg. affirmeth; That we are bound to love our Parents as our own proper bowels. So as he well deserveth, saith Saint Gregory, to be punished with blindness, which looks upon his Parents with a louring countenance, or with proud eyes offends the Piety of his natural Parents. Canst thou look (said that excellent Moral) upon those who brought thee forth into the world with a contemptuous eye, as if they were not worthy to live in the world? Must those who bred thee, breed a distaste in thee? Art thou by being a man of place, ashamed of thy birth, which gave thee a being upon Earth? Must thine honour so degenerate from nature, as nature must veil to honour; and make the affluence of a fading state to soveraignize over her? Are these arguments of Obedience, when creditors become debtors, and Parents servants to their Children. As every family is a private Sovereignty; so ought there to be a disposition, Sicut membra capiti, liberi et servi patri familiae. Elench. order, or apt symmetry in every member of that family. The Members are Ministers unto the Head: so are Children and Servants to the Master of the House. Should the least Member surcease to minister, the Head could not choose but infinitely suffer. Now, how unnatural be those tendrils, how adulterate those Scienes, which decline from that Stem which gave them growth; from that parental Stock, which rendered them their first birth? The Philosopher, indeed, gives a reason why Parents love their Children more, Parents pius diligunt fa●es quam è converso, eò quòd magis sciunt parentes quám filij, quòd ab iis sunt geniti. Arist. Eth. 8. than Children their Parents: and why they know more than those Children that derive their being from them: because, says he; as water is the purest which flows from the Fountain Head the nearest; so that love which descends from the Original root is ever the dearest: and for as much as true love is ever grounded upon knowledge, for otherwise it merits rather the title of folly than fancy; in regard Parents know us better to be theirs, than we ourselves know us to be theirs: so much more as their knowledge is surer, so much is their parental affection purer. Rariùs ascendit, descendit gratius 〈◊〉, Quae patres paeris non retulere suis. Salu. Whence the Poet delivers this for a known experiment. Nature does oft descend, but seldom mount, Parents areeres fall short in their account. But if Children would consider how they have received their native being from them: again, those incessant cares which attend them: with those promising hopes which they have treasured in them, they would hold it one of the highest tasks, and noblest Acts of piety, to be employed in those offices of filial duty; and to perform them with all alacrity. Besides, do Children desire a blessing? The Honour which they render unto their Parents is confirmed with a promise. Nor is any Commandment ratified with a stronger Assumpsit. Length of days is promised, which implies an abridgement of time to such as neglect it. Nay, that I may press this Argument a little further, by recounting those benefits which arise from parental honour: we shall generally observe, how that disregard to obedience, which Children show towards their Parents, ●s fully requited by the Disobedience of their Children, when they come to be Parents. Illud expectandum est à nobis, quod praestitimus nostris. Panorm. For what more may you expect from yours, than what you tendered unto yours? You may collect hence what singular blessings are from Obedience derived: Again, what discomforts even to Posterity are from disobedience occasioned. The one proposeth a long life; the other implieth a short life. The one conferrs a comfort on us in our posterity; the other a myriad of afflictions in our progeny. Nor can that Child be of ●a ingenuous nature, who with a free and uncoacted embrace addresseth not his best endeavours to advance this Honour. Let him but respect upon his parent's tenderness, and he cannot choose but highly tax himself of unthankfulness; should he suffer the neglect of one hour in returning the obediential sacrifice of a Child to his Father. Neither is any time to be exempted from so pious a task. For as their tender and vigilant eye has been from infancy to years of more maturity ever intentively fixed, that their hopes might be improved, and their comforts ●n that improvement numerously augmented; so ought it to be the delightful'st study to their posterity, to crown their Parents white hairs with comfort; and in imitation of that virtuous Corinthian, to recollect themselves, by considering what might give their Parents most content: Quicquid parenti placuisse vivo senserit, eo etiam mortuo praestare non desi●it. Pater●. O quam parva fuis tenero placuere parenti. Parvula in nostris misuere noble. and with all cheerfulness to perform that for them, even after their death, which they conceived could not choose but content them in their life. Alas, so indulgent are most Parents, and so easily contented, as the very least offices of duty performed by their Children, transport them above comparison. When Children in Obedience play their part, They drop young blood into an aged heart. Nay, I may truly affirm of this precious plant of filial Obedience, what our ancient Poets sometimes wrote of that Aesonian herb, or what the ever living Homer reported of his Moli; that it has power to restore nature, and beget an amiable complexion in the Professor. Hom. in Iliad. For a good life attracts to the countenance (says the Ethick) expressive Characters of love. Now should you more curiously then necessarily inquire after the extent of this Obedience; Vita spectabilis, vultus amabilis, Vita enormis, forma deformis. as, wherein it is to be exercised, and to what bounds confined: take this for a positive Rule; that in whatsoever shall not be repugnant to the express will of God, there is required this Observance: yea, even in matters of indifference, it is far safer to oppose your own wills, then distaste your Parents. It was an excellent saying of Saint Gregory; Greg. He that would not offend in things unlawful, must oft abridge himself in things lawful. The way to infuse more native heat in this Obedience, is to show an alacrity of obeying, even in Subjects of indifference; for a remissness in these cannot but argue a probable coolness in those of higher consequence. And, as the command of a discreet Father will enjoin his Child nothing but what may comply equally with piety and reason: so will a dutiful Child submit himself to his Father's command, without the least unbeseeming debate or expostulation. Thus from these Premises may we draw this infallible Conclusion: The fruits of obedience▪ as they have relation, both to Children and Parents. Would you enjoy length of days, glad hours, or a succeeding comfort in yours? Answer their aged hopes who have treasured their provisional cares for you; bring not their silver hairs with sorrow to their Grave: but return them such arguments of proficience in every promising Grace; that your sincere and unfeigned Obedience, may not be only a surviving comfort to your Parents, but a continual Feast to your own Conscience. Neither are you to perform these offices of Obedience, REVERENCE. with a regardless affection, or without due Reverence. For, as God would have those who are Labourers in his Vineyard, to do their work with cheerfulness: so is it his will that natural Children return all offices of duty, and filial Obedience with humility and reverence. Prov. 16.31. Age is a crown of glory, when it is found in the way of righteousness. And this closeth well with that saying of the Preacher: The crown of old men, is to have much experience, Ecclus 25.6. and the fear of God is their glory. But admit they were such, whom native Obedience enjoins you to reverence: as the nearer to their Grave, the further from knowledge: the nearer to earth, the more glued to earth: yet for all this, in lawful things are you not to alien your thoughts of obedience from them: but as you derived your being from them, so with a sensible compassion of their infirmities, with the veil of piety to cover their nakedness. It is true indeed what that sententious Moral sometimes observed: a Quare nihil turpiu● est, quam grandis natu senex, qui nullum aliud argumentum, quo se probet diu vixisse quam aetatem. Sen. de Tranq. an. There is no sight more unseemly than an old man, who having lived long, retains no other argument of his age then his years. This moved Curius Dentatus to conclude so positively, b Malle esse se quam vivere mortuum. Ib. that he had rather be dead, then live as one dead. Neither indeed is age to be measured by years but hours. Many are old in years, who are young in hours: Many old in hours, who are young in years. For time is of such unvaluable estimate, that if it be not employed to improvement, it becomes a detriment to the Accountant. No object more distasteful (said that divine Moral) than an c Nihil sene elementario turpius. Sen. Nihil dialectico sene deformius. Petrarch. Elementary Old-man: No subject of discourse more hateful (said witty Petrarch) than a ᵈ dialectical Old-man. A logical age, howsoever it appear copious in words; it seldom becomes plenteous in works. Free discoursers in Philosophy, are oft the slowest proficients in the practic part of Philosophy. Whereas, it is better to be a Truant at School, then in the practice of life. For, as it is better to know little; and practice much; then to know much, and practise little: So it is a more useful knowledge, to learn the art of living, then of learning. For many with their learning have gone into Hell: whereas none, were they never so simple, but by living well have gained Heaven. It is an excellent Caution indeed, Ecclus 25.3. and well deserving our deep Impression: If thou hast gathered nothing in thy youth, what canst thou find in thine age? Put sufficient it is not to gather, but to make use of that experimental treasure. Medicines deposited afford small benefit to the Patient: nor are Talents to be buried: nor our Lights under a bushel shrouded. Knowledge cannot be usefully active, unless it be communicative. Howsoever, then, Age in respect of her ancient livery with those aged Emblems of her antiquity exact reverence: yet deserves it most honour when those grey hairs are beautified with knowledge. Ecclus 25.4, 5. Oh, how pleasant a thing is it, when grey headed men minister judgement, and when the Elders can give good counsel! Oh, how comely a thing is wisdom unto aged men, and understanding an● prudency to men of honour! This no doubt, as it begets them esteem amongst their Equals: so it highly improves their reverence with Inferiors. For, foolish age, though it should be exempted from derision; yet such is the levity of time, and piercing eye of youthful observation, as age becomes censured by youth; whereas youth ought rather to interpret the best, then detract in the least from the reverence of age. Omne peccatum incurabilius est in seen, quam in juvene. Holgot. sup. li. Sap. It is too true, that every obliquity, be it either of higher or lower quality, is more incurable in age, than youth. The reason is, Age becomes more insensible of what it has committed, and grows more indurate through an accustomed habit: whereas, though an unconfined heat of youth drive the other into folly: an ability of conceit brings them to an apprehension of what they have done: and consequently to a recollection of themselves, to reform what they have misdone. Now, the way how to improve this reverence in Parents to their Children, and Magistrates to their Inferiors; is to express such patterns of piety in the whole course of their life, as the very shadows reflecting from such Mirrors may produce an awful reverence, zeal, and love in their Observers: with a zealous desire of imitation in their Successors. This, no doubt, begot a pious emulation in our Predecessors towards those, whose actions being of ancient record, induced them to trace those steps wherein they had walked: and with much constancy to profess those virtues, which they had found in them so highly approved. Others lives became their lines; lines to direct them by their Copy: lights to conduct them to an higher pitch of true Nobility. Quantò senes sunt morti viciniores: tantò debent esse puriores. In decret. dist. 86. It is a Rule worthy inscription on the ancient Wardrobe of Age: Old men, by how much they are unto death nearer, by so much more ought they to be purer. This will attract unto them duty in their life; and eternity after death. Now, Gentlemen, that you may better observe this Reverence, addressed to those to whom you owe all Obedience: be it far from you to debate or dispute their commands: It suits not well with the duty of a Child to expostulate with a Father; especially, in moral respects: where the quality or nature of the command discovers no Opposition to the Law divine. Be never in their presence without a pious fear, and awful reverence. Interrupt them not in their discourse: neither prefer your own opinion before their advice. It tastes of an ill condition to stand upon conditions with a Father, upon proposals of means or exhibitions. But much more distasteful to contest in terms; as if the memory of nature were lost in you, and all acquaintance with piety estranged from you. This it was which moved that dis-passionate Theban, to take up his unseasoned Son in this manner: putting him in mind of his neglect, even of civil duty; which the better to remember, he lays before him his uncivile demeanour in this severe Character. An Alehouse seems by your Apology an excellent Receipt for a Malcontent. I am sorry you have lost the Principles of more divine Philosophy. You might recall to mind those Attic Studies, wherein you were sometimes versed; those Academic Colleagues, with whom you discoursed: A Memorial of these might have better qualified this humour; by reducing your troubled affections to a clearer temper. But my hopes now are to be resolved into prayers: for as yet there can appear small hope, where your Morning Sacrifice is offered to Smoke: Tune Aurorae filius, nepenthiacis Salamancae fumis, primas Aurorae horas offeres? a sweet perfume for an intended Convert! You seem to press your Father to a performance of promise; God bless you! I see plainly your pen must necessarily make that Maxim good:— Where there is a want in the practice of piety, it must needs beget a neglect of Duty, nay of Civility. I could wish that you would be as ready to reform: the errors of your life, as I to perform the Offices of a fatherly love: So speedily does love descend, so slowly does it ascend. To conclude all in one,— I must tell you, to condition with a Father, argues no good condition in a Son. But let the wisest Consort you consult with advise you, E tabernis vestri proruant Rhetores. and with their Tap-Rhetorick surprise you; you shall find that I have power to proportion means to every one's merit. From which resolution, neither shall affection draw me, nor power over-awe me: So as, if you expect from me a Patrimony, exercise Piety. Be what you seem●, or prove the same you vow, We have dissembling practisers enough. Thus have you heard the course of a profuse Son, with the resolution of a disconsolate Father. Collect hence what discontents accompany the one: what distractions conscionably may attend the other Children reflect constant cares, but uncertain comforts. Cares are proper attributes to Parents: Comforts, those fruits, after a long Seedplot of cares, the sole Harvest they reap. It is true, Parents are to dispense with discomforts in their Children; and receive them as familiar Guests to lodge with them: But what heavy fates attend such Children, as exemplarily present this condition! Welcome Guests you cannot be to your father in heaven, who make your inferior cares such unwelcome Guests to him on earth. I have found in some Children a serious inquisition after their Father's years: so as, if they could possibly have contracted with the Register, to enlarge his aged Character, he could not want an ample Fee for so grateful a labour. Such as these would ride in their Father's saddle before their time. But trust me, few of these Lapwing hopes or loose-pinioned desires, but they close in a fatal Catastrophe: and as their ill-grounded hopes were sceaned in prodigality, so they end tragically in an Act of misery. Let it be your honour to reverence their grey hairs, and with wishes of pious zeal to rejoice in their length of days: For this it is will bring an happiness to your age; and beget a reverend obedience in yours, as you in all piety offered like Sacrifice unto yours. For take this for a constant position; A constant position observable in disobedient Children. You shall seldom see any Prodigals falling short of these inherent Offices of duty, but if they live to have a progeny, they receive the like discomforts from their posterity. Nay, I have known very few such Vnnaturalists, who desired their Father's death, in hope to enjoy his Land; that ever enjoyed much comfort in possession of that Land: For as these murder their Parents in their hearts, so they are many times stifled in the fruition of their hopes: Tasting more aloes of discontent in their enjoying: then ever they did sweetness in their expecting. Prov. 17.25. Consider then the excellency of that divine Proverb: A foolish Son is a grief unto his Father, and a heaviness to her that bore him. Now, less than foolish you cannot be, so long as disobedience hales you to ruin: For your folly becomes an abridger of your days: or an ingager of your years to many disconsolate cares: Inverting that by making it a cursing, which by preserving it in his own purity, might have been an incomparable blessing. Remember then that golden sentence, and let it retain a fair Character in the signature of your conscience: children's children are the crown of the Elders: Prov. 17.6. and the glory of the Children are their Fathers. As you are their Crown, so let them be your glory. Let every day wherein you live, produce a testimony of your unfeigned duty, your entire love. This shall be a means to accumulate God's blessings on you: and leave patterns of piety, to such as shall succeed you, with a Sacrifice of like Obedience to please you, and in the memory of their virtues deservingly to praise you. Thus by performing the religious task of sincere Obedience, you cannot choose but seasonably afford them your Supportance, to whom you tendered such entire Reverence. SUPPORTANCE. Should Children forget their duty to those that bred them; or neglect all such pious offices as properly become them. Should those native impressions be wholly razed in them, which, as shadows to their bodies, should individually attend them. Should humanity lose his name, or piety relinquish her nature: yet might these, even by fixing on sensible creatures, find such moving objects, as the very parental affection which these inferior Emblems bear to those that gave them being, could not choose but strike in them a glowing shame, and present to their weak memory, the neglect of their necessitated duty. It is said of the Cranes, that when their Parents have moulted their feathers, Plin. in Nat. Hist. Aelian. Sambuc. in Emblem. Paradin. their young ones seek about for all such necessaries as may relieve them, till such time as their aged Parents recover their feathers; or by death leave them. Likewise to show how we ought to succour and support our Parents when they grow aged, may be instanced in the tender affection of the Stork: whereof we read, that when the Storks grow old, their affectionate brood take up their Parents upon their own wings, and set them in their nests, and like tender Infants place them in their own bosom; where they nurse and nursle them, affording them all supportance that may any way accommodate them. Soli vultures parent's fame mori permittunt. Ib. Nay, of all the birds in the air, the Vulture only suffers his Parents to perish with hunger; which discovers his ravenous and odious nature. It is most true what an ancient Father sometimes observed: should we bestow on them whatsoever we could possibly confer on them, yet could we not do that which they have done for us, Quam vis plurima 〈◊〉 reddidima, rursus tamen eos generare non possumus. Civil. beget them. How tender then should we be of their supporting, from whom we receive the source of our being. It is written of the Tiger, though a beast of a savage and truculent nature, that when they take away the young one, they set looking Glasses, or some transparent models in the way to stay the pursuit of the she Tiger; wherein seeing herself represented by reflection of the Glass, she there solaceth herself with the conceit of her own form, while the Hunters make way for escape. Whence we may take a view of the tender affection of the savagest Creature to her Cubs in an imaginary reflection on their feature. These unfeignedly love those who came from them; and no doubt by a secret instinct of nature, are equally requited by a thankful remonstrance returned to them: Admoverunt labiis Tigrides ubera, & lacte sugunt Nutricis ilia. and shall the Parthian Tiger retain more impressive Characters of a tender nature, than the most noble and rational Creature? You heard before, how when the old Stork through age becomes naked of feathers; destitute of all personal supply or succour: when her life becomes tedious unto her, through those infirmities of age which attend her; yet she receives comfort from those, who derived their being from her: Basil. Homil. 8. & 9 She is fed by her brood, and carried by them from place to place upon their wings. So was aged Anchises carried by his pious Aeneas: and so should all Children do to their distressed Parents. Valer. Max. Valerius relates an excellent example, wherein he shows how we ought by so imitable a pattern to succour and support our Parents when they are in necessity; which he commends unto us in this admirable story: There was sometimes a certain noble Woman of high descent and parentage, who being adjudged to die for some foul offence, yet in respect of her Family the judge decreed she should not die publicly; but be shut up in prison, and so die for hunger. But her tenderhearted Daughter being then married, having got leave of the judge that she might daily visit her Mother, a disconsolate prisoner, but before she were admitted to her, to be carefully searched that she brought no relief unto her: So as, being in that manner prevented to afford her such comfort or repast as she desired (behold how wittily natural affection became provided) she pulled forth her own breasts, and with her milk nourished her Mother. And when the judge wondered how she could so long subsist, being deprived of all means of relief; having at last heard what her Daughter had done unto her Mother, being moved with compassion, and the unexemplary piety of her affection, he restored the Mother to her Daughter. Now shall Pagans express better the piety of Christians, than Christians the humanity of Pagans? Shall a beameling show more splendour, than the Son itself, whose reflection affords that lustre? A glimmering at the best had but these Ethnics, and that only darting from the light of nature: whereas we enjoy the Sun in his Meridian glory; being adorned with an inward beauty: expecting no Elysian f●●lds, but those essential joys of Eternity. As our hopes are higher; our expectance surer, our grounded assurance firmer: let our affections appear purer; our actions in the practice of piety clearer. It was an excellent commendation which that Monument bore in her front to the memory of that virtuous Matron, Constantia, the Lady Lucy: A true performer of all duties to Husband, Parents, Children, Friends. In the first, expressing conjugal constancy; in the second, filial piety; in the third, natural propinquity; in the fourth, reciprocal courtesy. Now, of these, some have maintained that no office was more obliging, then that of a Child to his Parent, confirming their affection with this reason: In the loss of a Wife, The gradual respects of love and duty. one may redeem that loss with the marrying of another: In the loss of a Child, one may repair that loss in the generation of another: And in the loss of a Friend, one may recover that loss by the purchase of another: But should we forgo a Father or a Mother, we cannot possibly restore that loss with the supply of another. Howsoever I stand doubtful of the authentic validity of this opinion: seeing we are expressly enjoined to leave Father and Mother for our Wife: which parental dereliction implies, that Man is to adhere to his Wife in the nearest tye of affection; no doubt but we are by the Law of Nature, nay by the definite command of our Maker, rather to surcease from living, then from supporting those from whom we received our being. Our breeding was their care; let our care bestow itself on their succour. Let not a wish proceed from our heart to accelerate their end: Though a wish extend not to an act, yet it breathes too much inhumanity to work upon so native a part. Man should be of a more noble and malleable a temper, then to partake of the nature of a Viper. Donec ab Insulae finibus removeantur, languentem agentes vitam, emori non poterint. It is reported, that towards the Northwest part of Ireland, there is an Island so temperate, or by some miraculous influence so endowed, as when any Inhabitant there becomes worn with age; or so enfeebled, as their life becomes an affliction: so tedious their hours; so fastidious their years; their Children or Friends must remove them out of that place, before they can die. Whether there be any such enlivening Isle or no, I shall leave to the credit of the Relater: but I much fear me, there be many remorseless Friends, and graceless Children, who would find ready hands to remove those eyesores from that Island; long before such times as any such decrepit age seized on them: desiring rather to enjoy their present fortunes then the presence of their persons. But such premature hopes resolve themselves into weak helps: for where Sons are sick of the Father, or Daughters of the Mother, they generally decrease no less in the prosperity of their estate, than quality of their nature. Be it then your care to provide for their necessity; to support them in their misery; and cheerfully return them all such offices of piety, as may relieve their age, and consequently improve your comfort in a surviving posterity. And so we descend briefly to those Domestic Offices, wherein the Servant is to express himself with all diligence and reverence to his Master; as likewise in what manner every Master is to demean himself towards his Servant, in a grateful and ample measure to requite his endeavour. Wherein, as they merit precedency, we are first to treat of the Offices of a Master: and in the second place of those duties of a Servant to his Master, which are ever to be rendered with competent honour. Of Domestic Offices. EVery private Family is a little City; The Offices of Masters to their servant's Bern. Med. 3. wherein if there should be no order, nor harmony, that distracted government would beget a private Anarchy. It were a great abuse (said that Mellifluous Bernard) for the Mistress to play the Handmaid; the Handmaid and Mistress: yet as the eyes of the Handmaid should be upon the eyes of her Mistress; so must not the eyes of the Mistress be estranged from the eyes of her Handmaid. As there is a deputative charge recommended to the one: so should there be a supervisive care in the other. Now, as Masters challenge to themselves a power to command: so are they to have discretion in knowing what they command. In some cases, Servants may more conscionably disobey, then obey the commands of their Masters. joseph would not engage his honour, by prostituting his chaste thoughts to a prohibited pleasure, for the loss of a light Mistress favour. Lawful things only, as they are by Masters to be commanded; so are they with all alacrity by Servants to be obeyed. Now to walk in such a fair a smooth path of commanding; as neither the Master may err in the exhibition of his commands: nor the Servant show himself remiss in observing what is commanded: the Master is to decline two extremes; the neglect whereof many times begets either a contempt or hate in the Master: an insolence or remissness in the Servant. Two extremes to be avoided, whereby this Domestic Obedience may be better observed. These are Levity and Severity: for as the one makes the Servant more insolent: so the other makes the Master more hated. The Wiseman, indeed, proposeth a Rule how Masters are to command: and in what manner they are to demean themselves to their Servants: which he expresseth to life in these words: He that delicately bringeth up his Servant from youth, at length he will be even as his Son. Whence he inferreth, That too much delicacy or familiarity with ones servant begets a contempt. This makes him quite forget his servile condition: and strangely infuseth into him an overweening conceit of his own abilities: Prov. 29.21. which begets in him such a malapertness, as in short time his perverse disposition confirms the Wiseman's assertion: Prov. 19.19. He will not be chastised with words: though he understand, yet he will not answer. It is dangerous then, to make a Copesmate of our Inferior. You are then to observe a Mean in this; neither to insensate them by too much indulgency: nor decline their affections from you by too much severity. That indiscreet act of Vedius Pollio could deserve no less than an extreme censure; who, as one stripped of humane nature, could so intemperately tyrannize over his Servants, as to cause one to be cast into a Fishpond for breaking a Glass, What an excellent rigid Master would this man have been for our lascivious and sprightly Gallants, who cannot present an Health to their brittle Venus, without the breach of a Venice Glass? Now, there be many Masters, who with Zimri, by seeking their Servants, lose themselves. These are so glued to the world, as they verily think the world has not enough mould to give every one an handful. They never look upon the wheel (for such Emblems are far from them) which in its motion has ever the least part or portion of all his proportion upon the ground. Earth receives the least part of it; whereas earth enjoys the most of their heart. These, though they retain the title of Masters, are in their condition poorer than the lowest of their Servants. No servant meaner than a parsimonious Master. For in those comforts or complies of nature, they partake the least share. Their sleeps are distracted; their unseasonable repasts undigested: their clothes sordidly or broakishly suited. So as, such miserable wretches as these, who are only rich in having, but poor in enjoying, want no Character to discover the quality of their slimy nature, but that Epitaph or Inscription which was addressed for one of the like temper, and in this manner: Vid. Lucian. in Sat. Here lies he who had stock and store, Had flocks i'th' field, had corn o'th' floor, Had Goats within, and Gates at's door, Had all a-Shore, yet died poor. I vow by fate, a wondrous feat, That such a Mate should die for meat. It is far better to possess little, and enjoy it: then by possessing much, to be estranged from the enjoyment of it. These, as they are ever their own Tormentors: so they for most part leave few Mourners, but fat Executors. I have observed many of these rigid and severe Masters, suited with the very sluggisht and sloathfull'st Servants. Such, as though they pretended diligence in their Master's sight, it was, but eye-service at the best: For their Master's absence gave them an easy dispensation with Conscience. Their seeming labour must then turn loiterer; their late distempered rest into a shady repose or plenteous repast. Such as these will be the aptest for taking up those words of that malapert Servant in the Gospel: Luke 12.45. My Master doth defer his coming. He resolves therefore to take advantage of time; and to play the Commander in the absence of his Master. Where, like an imperious Censor, he begins to smite the servants, and maidens, and to eat, and drink, and to be drunken. These are many times the fruits of parsimonious Masters: who, by tasking their Servants too strictly: or by detaining from them what they are to render them in equity; either make them dissolute, or some other way desperate: whereof we have such daily examples, as their too insulting command have brought many timorous Servants to a fearful end. The like may be spoken of domineering Mistresses; who make their correction of their Maids, their sole recreation. And these for most part, are of that tenacious nature, as they will not afford a competence to their Family, but engage themselves to famine amidst of plenty. These, as they live without love, so they generally die without tears. Their excessive care to advance a posterity, as it exposed them to an indiscreet parsimony; so it ever closed their memory with an incompassionate Elegy. This that injuried Melissa in the Poet expressed; who, having long time served where she little profited, and now freed of her sharp Mistress Drusilla, by death attached; resolved to revive her Mistress' memory, Lacrymen amoris Epicaedium; vel Heroinum Elegium. Farn. in Epig. one no less decrepit in mind then body, in this Loves Lachrymae, or her Lady's Elegy: Ladies tell me, you that shine In the fancy of the time, Would you live when you do feel Maladies from head to heel? Rugged wrinkles on that brow Whiter once than Ida's snow; Many rivels, beamlings few Where the Rose and Lily grew; When those dangling'trosses shall In a timely Autumn fall; When that breath shall Earth partake, Which was once Ambrosiac; When those pearled cordon's shed Leave your mouths unpeopled; When your nose and chin shall meet, Balmy Palm has lost her heat; When those weake-supporting feet Fail in traversing the street? If Death pleasing be to such, Why should frailty then think much, When like Grass she is cut down For others good, and for her own? Let not a tear then dim your eye, When you see your Mother die. She only to her Mother goes Where for a while she must repose, Till her united parts shall sing A glorious Paean to her King; Or to Dis, I know not which, Who made her poor by being rich: " For ready Entrance who'll deny her, " That has the Keys of Angels by her! But let us decline our course from these parsimonious natures; being such as make themselves most miserable in having: by enjoying lest what they have in possessing: And in brief deliver the true Character of a deserving Master. Which we shall not presume to commend unto you, as a Pattern, or Model drawn from the Engine of our own conceit: being already so exactly presented to life, by that glorious Convert, and excellent Vessel of Election in these words: Colos. 4.1. Ye Masters, do unto your servants, that which is just, and equal, knowing that ye also have a Master in Heaven. And to attemper the inclemency of stern and implacable Masters, whose highest glory it is domineer over their Servants, he useth this exhortation: Eph. 4.9. Put away threatening; for know that even your Master also is in Heaven, neither is there respect of persons with him. Now to observe this golden means in your Command; neither bear yourselves so indulgent, as your remissness may probably beget a neglect in your Servant: for so by remitting your care, might you occasion him to difert, or omit his charge: nor cruel; for your distemper may discourage a well composed nature, and make him weary of his employments for so severe and rigid a Master. Be it your care, that neither your remissness make him slight you, nor your to much strictness bring him to hate you: So shall your graceful demeanour deserve the choice of such a Servant, as I am now to present unto you: whose service shall be to your solace: and whose behaviour shall ever conduce to your profit and honour. The duty of Servants to their Masters. NOw, as you have heard those distinct Offices of Masters to their Servants: You, who are in all lawful things to obey your Masters, recollect what especial duties import you: and how you stand obliged, both by divine and humane Law to perform conscionably, what you are enjoined to observe legally. And to express yourselves the better in the performance of this duty, let not such tasks nor employments as are enjoined you, be done perfunctorily or remissely, but cheerfully, and with all alacrity. Observe the direction of that sage Moral: That labour loseth a great part of its honour, that is done in a secure or drowsy manner. Vid. Laert. A Servant, to render himself truly obedient, must have agility of hand, and alacrity of heart. Many by repining have lost their penny in the Evening. And know ye, that as a curse is denounced on that Master, who defraudeth his Servant of his wages: so can no blessing redound unto that Servant, who defraudeth his Master of his work. It was the Apostles exhortation, and it well deserves your attention: Servants be obedient unto them that are your Masters according to the flesh, with fear and trembling, in singleness of your hearts as unto Christ. Eph. 6.5. Whence you may collect, how pretences of obedience without reverence and sincereness can purchase no acceptance. Let it be your principal care to retain a memory of your highest Master: by which you shall learn to perform those offices to his honour, which are recommended to your charge; and in the evening of your service, amply remunerate your care. jacob, because he did the duty of a careful servant, The duty of a servant to his Master, will make a servant an happy Master. became a Master of dutiful Servants. He shall never know well how to command, that has not learned first how to obey. Obedience is a thankful Sacrifice: Neither can he well express it to his invisible Maker, who has not endeavoured to render it to his visible Master. You know well what is commended and committed to you: discharge your place with discretion; it will improve your Master's affection; confirm his good opinion; and confer a blessing on your fortune. A discreet servant shall have rule over a lewd son. Do you observe this honour? As you tender then your reputation, let your service be ever seasoned with discretion. Let not your labours be to the eyes of men; seeing you are in his sight, whose eyes are upon all the Children of men. Let not your Master's presence be the sole motive to your diligence: but when he is farthest divided from you, address your employments as if he were present with you. Let no wand'ring thoughts distract you: as you are seated in a vocation, you must not suffer it to admit of the least distraction. This has made too many Labourers mighty Loiterers, by suffering their thoughts to wander amidst those interesses of their labour. Think how many are made slaves of servants: This cannot choose but sweeten your task, in conceiving that extreme servitude which others taste. Tunc nostra magis clarescunt bona, cum fuerint praesentibus comparata malis. Let not an indiscreet word pass from you: know how you are to serve. Let your speech then suit with the condition of a servant. A malapert answer may exasperate the passion of the most indulgent Master. But above all things observe this Caveat: Gild not over your errors with glozing excuses. To defend an error, is the way to confirm you in error. Nor is there any hope of his reclaiming, who either stands in justification of his offence, or with a frontless boldness labours to approve it, either by a palliated excuse, or apparent defence. For in this case, saith the Civilian, the mere defence equals the quality of the offence. Now to divert all occasions of wand'ring, Gothofred. de corp. jur. Civil. Casel. de jure civili julius Pacius in Analysi. Theoph. Instit. Fabrot. Inter. Vid. Plut. in Mor. Ovid. in Met. Arist. in Eth. be it your care to assign every distinct hour his peculiar task. There is no rust that consumes iron so much, as Sloth enfeebles or effeminates the spirit. Idleness makes of Men Women, of womans Beasts, of Beasts Monsters. Let it not then be said of you, what was sometimes spoken of Margites; that he never ploughed, nor digged, nor did any thing all his life long that might tend unto goodness. Such as these are wholly unprofitable to the world. Furnished with Ericthous bowels, but Philoxenus hands: for howsoever they are less than Pigmies at their work, yet at their meat they are more than men. I would have these Patrons and Patterns of Idleness used, as Zeno handled his servant Bruso; who being taken with theft, and alleging for himself that it was his destiny to steal (so apt are the most irregular to wove excuses) his Master shaped him as ready an answer, and thy destiny to be beaten. The Crabfish, Emblematical Hieroglyphics of Sloath. (when as the Oyster doth open herself) by a politic instinct casteth a stone into her shell; by which means being not able to shut herself again, she becomes a prey unto the Crab. The Fathers by a proper allusion apply this unto the Devil; when he findeth men gaping and idle, he casteth into them some stone of temptation, whereby he works their overthrow and ruin. The slothful man is the Devil's shop; there he works, ever most busy when men are lazy; ever intentivest when men are securest. For as man's extremity is God's opportunity, such is his piety: So the Devil's opportunity is man's security, such is his policy. You are to know then, that Health cometh not from the Clouds without seeking, nor Wealth from the Clods without digging. The Earth begun from her former fertility to fail, when Adam begun to fall. It needed not then such culture, as it afterwards required to make it fruitful. Had Adam never transgressed, Adam no sooner became sinful, than the Earth unfruitful. he had never received that strict command of eating his bread in the sweat of his brows. Eden was then a native fruitful Garden: but Adam's sin altered the soil. As you are then enjoined, and by a strict Covenant tied; neglect no time wherein you may in a conscionable way render unto your Master an useful account of your employment. And as this is required at your hands; so let this be done with cheerful hearts. For where alacrity accompanies any good, or pious action, it argues a sincere previous intention: which indeed, is the Crown of every action. For good actions may be ill done, either by being corrupted in their doing, or by being not intended before they were done. You are then to perform your labours with singleness of heart; which affords an high approvement to every act. There is one thing more, which you are carefully to prevent: for as the error is more general, so it requires a timely diversion, lest habit begin to slight the quality of the offence, through an enurement or continuance of practice. I have observed many Servants to hold this opinion: that if their care extend itself to what is committed to their charge; they are not bound in conscience to look any further: The Charge of their Fellow-servants holds no relation with them: They do what is enjoined them, and this (as they erroneously pretend) may sufficiently discharge them. It is true, indeed, as the world goes, such Servants may be well received into the list of careful Retainers, who address their labour to what is peculiarly enjoined them by their Masters: But if they should duly consider the office of a faithful Servant: their care would dilate itself to an higher extent. For that Servant cannot love his Master sincerely, nor perform those offices which are required of him effectually, It is not sufficient for a Servant to intend his own peculiar charge, unless he admonish others of the neglect of their care. Vid. Arist. in Polit. Zenophon in Cyro. ped. unless he retain a cautious and vigilant eye towards his Fellow's care, and to their neglects prescribe a cure. Yet not so, as by an insinuating way, so to ingratiate themselves in their Master's favours, as by private whisper or suggestions to lay a disgrace upon their Fellow-servants. This is neither an act of duty; nor any such office as may hold coherence with charity. For her Rule is, to do as you would be done unto. But if you apparently perceive that those who are in Family with you, neglect their charge, or profusely dissipate your Master's goods; you are not in conscience bound to be their Secretaries. For when no admonitions will reclaim them, corrasives instead of cordials must be applied to them. Thus have you heard what you are to do, and what you are to decline. Much is expected from you, because much is committed to you. Remit not your care; but reflect on your heavenly Master, in whose presence you ever are. Begin the actions of every day with a memorial of piety: so shall you prosper better in the performance of those offices in your Family. And so we descend to our last Observation▪ which strikes Anchor upon those neighbourly Offices, which we are to do mutually one to another. Observ. 4. Of Neighbourly Offices. Our daily experience and hourly Observance may sufficiently inform us; that, as our Speech is the bond or artery of humane society: Oratio vinculum humanae societat iis Societas solatium animae peregrinantis. Vid Cic. Hippol. Casiman. so is humane society; an especial solace in this vale of misery. That rough Philosopher, who gloried more in his contempt of the world, than others did in enjoying the fullness of it, though he naturally affected retiredness, yet could he not choose but apprehend a great happiness to consist in the mutual enjoyment of one another's neighbourhood. This moved him to return that answer to one, who entreated his resolution touching a parcel of ground which he was to purchase, with the conveniences which accommodated it: Before thou become purchaser, inquire first who shall be thy Neighbour. Laert. in vit. Diog. An ill Neighbour makes an unhappy Farmer: Neither can the purchase be dear, who has a friendly Neighbour at his door. It was the Wiseman's positive assertion: He that despiseth his neighbour is destitute of wisdom. Prov. 11.12. Now, to preserve this neighbourly union: that as propinquity of place hath joined them, so a sweet harmony of minds may ever accompany them: you are first to know in what especial offices this neighbourly amity is to be exercised What proper Objects it reflects upon. That knowing how and in what particulars it consisteth, you may neither decline from the Object at which it aimeth, nor become defective in performing those proper Offices which it requireth. Arist. in Eth. Melanct. Fonseca. Pererius. Our Ethics will tell you, that these Neighbourly offices, whereof we are here to treat, either pitch upon arguments of Discourse, and Communication; or upon Action and Negotiation; or Pastime and Recreation. And first for matters of Discourse; DISCOURSE. LIFE. wherein you are to be so cautious, as nothing proceed from you as may either engage his Life, fame, or Substance; nor put yourselves upon so desperate an hazard, as by your too free and enlarged discourse, to empaune your freedom under another's girdle. Which obvious peril that you may the better decline; beware of these four precipices: Four cautions in matters of discourse, to be avoided; that all grounds of distaste may be better directed. For many by too securely failing upon the Main, have perished in their too much security, and through too much confidence lost themselves irrecoverably. First then, play not too much the part of an egregious Traveller, by telling marvailes, nor of too pragmatical a Sophister, by pressing reasonings; nor of too tart a Critic, by detracting from others merits; nor too arrogant an Opinionist, by making Comparisons. The first may erroneously dictate to your deluded thoughts that you are admired, when indeed you shall find yourselves to be pitifully jeered. The second may persuade you that you are scholastically approved; when you are in the test of him that hears you, pedantically censured. The third may hold you in hand that you are with resolution against all opposition armed; whereas your too liberal censure makes you hated. The Last, though it like you best, can never be more by others distasted, then when by yourselves most relished. We usually say, we may speak any thing safely, under the Rose. But this proverb is to retain a discreet restriction. The Rose is an Emblem of Charity; which so long as we make our Object, we may speak safely, because our discourse is seasoned with a pious reservancy. But no place can secure us, be it never so retired, unless the Subject of our discourse be so seasoned. Think then before you speak, that an irrevocable word beget not in you too untimely a repentance for what you have spoke. Many, too many, will rather lose their friend then their jest. But these are dangerous to consort with: A jest unseasonably uttered has occasioned too many an indiscreet Buffoun much loss, and irreparably divided them from others love. There is no greater deliberation then to be taken in any passage of this life, then in our choice of acquaintance: Many have perished by being too credulously confident of the privacy or fidelity of those they consorted with. Catiline had never been so unexemplarily mischievous, had he not so daily consulted and consorted with a Cethegus. Now in arguments of Discourse, as you are to address your Scope according to the quality of the person, or necessity of his occasion with whom you converse: Three particulars observable in arguments of Discourse. so three particulars are mainly observable in treaties of this nature: verity, utility, modesty. By the first, we are taught to deliver nothing upon trust or fabulous report, but what is infallibly true and integrious. By the second, not to insist upon impertinences, but to press upon that Subject which is useful and commodious. Vid. Epict. Enchirid. By the third, to decline too much vehemency in arguments of discourse; for this argues a disposition arrogant and impetuous. For these with that daring Epicurean Velleius, are so confident and peremptory in matter of argument, as not a period must be delivered, but they expect it should be for a Maxim received. And herein they err most, because they hold themselves secure from erring. To be brief, in Subjects of discourse; let it be your care to regulate your speech to the direction of that Ambrosiac father; Ambrose in Offic. whose advice is, that there be weight in our words, sense in our speech, gravity in our discourse. Which observed, neither shall your Hearer be tediously cloyed, nor any impropriety discovered; but by means of this communicative discourse become so mutually interessed and improved, as the Evening may return a fair account of whatsoever has been delivered. ACTION. Secondly, as these Neighbourly Offices may pitch upon Action or Negotiation; be it ever your prime ground, Observ. 1. (as I have elsewhere observed) to do as you would be done unto: you would not have your trust deceived: Delude your Neighbour with fair pretences. Let your contracts be just without circumvention; your intentions clear without collusion. Suffer with your Neighbour, as if it were in your own particular. Comfort him when you shall find him perplexed; relieve him when you shall find any way necessitated. Now in directions of comfort, it is not so hard to give comfortable counsel to the sorrowful, as to find a fit season when to give it. Make choice then of an opportunate hour, wherein the office of an affectionate Neighbour may be performed; and the action to which it is addressed, cheerfully seconded. Here he insists upon those three particular subjects, wherein these Neighbourly Offices are to be exercised. Tell me, Is he brought upon the stage for his Life? Perform the part of a constant Damon to your distressed Pitheas. Bring him off if it lie in your power: especially, if his innocence merit your defence. Solicit his cause; labour to free him from tyrannising foes. It is a work of piety, and retains the highest place in those living Annals of amity. Again, comfort him in the loss of those he loved. Attemper his grief with seasonable advice. So compassionate his tears, that they may find a sympathy in your eyes, and an antidote in your discourse. It was no less divinely then wittily said of Epictetus the Philosopher, who going forth one day, LIFE. FAME. SUBSTANCE. and seeing a woman weeping that had broken her pitcher; and the next day meeting another woman weeping for that she had lost her Son: Yesterday I saw tears shed over a broken pitcher; and to day tears shed over one for paying his debt to nature. Heri vidifra gilem frangi; hodie video mortalem mori. Epict. Sociable and seasonable counsel in these, as it effectually works upon the patient, so is it an argument of a pious disposition in the Agent. You desire comfort in these cloudy days of your affliction! Minister the like solace upon every occasion: So shall others be stirred up to afford you the like receipt in your greatest strait: the like remedy in your pressingst extremity. FAME. In the second place, you are to tender his good name. For Fame and Honour is such a precious odour, as it survives man: and retains the memory of his actions in a lasting Shrine of glory or shame: These are Monuments which cannot perish. Touch, jet, Marble, Ivory, are all of them materials of Mortality: Whereas a precious fame survives such perishing metals, and makes perpetuity her Trophy. The Righteous shall be ever in remembrance: but the memory of the wicked shall rot. As it is palpable flattery then to bestow an adulterate beauty upon immeriting actions: so is it an act of impiety to detract from the repute of deserving persons. This moved devout Hierome to conclude: To lay upon good men an aspersion, admits not easily a pardon. This were to discourage virtue, and to embolden vice. Be it then your especial care to value his honour with whom you familiarly consort. Non facilis est venia, prava dixisse de rectis. Ecclus 19.10. Such a pure stole as an undefiled fame may admit no stain. To observe this, let the Preachers advice, be your impreze: If thou hast heard a word against thy neighbour, let it die with thee, and be sure, it will not burst thee. Now in the choice of those with whom you desire to be intimate, as you are to try before you trust, prove before you approve; so having once confirmed them yours, let their fame be equally precious to you as your own. First for your Choice, let them be such as you may rest confident that you may either better them, or be bettered by them. It was the advice of a Learned Moral, and the wisest may reserve an attentive ear for such useful counsel: Be not too easy in entertaining, but be constant in retaining. For the former, as it may tax you of levity; so the latter cannot choose but accuse you of much inconstancy. If he deserve your love, tender his fame as your own life. If it be your opinion of him, that he deserves not to be so enlisted; use more freedom to him in trifles, then in what may appear more consequent. It was the expression of a divine Father to his affectionate friend: Ambros. Offic. 3. Tuus sum totus. But before such time as his pious discretion admitted of any such Subscription, by a more serious examen and discussion of his parts, he had found him worthy his affection: Amor transanimat in rem amatam. That Maxim is true: Love transanimates into the thing loved. They who truly love, fix on no Object with more desire, then on that wherein they see their friends desire to close. Heart's so really devoted, cannot possibly be divided. For as Aristotle saith, Friendship is one soul which ruleth two hearts, and one heart which dwelleth in two bodies. How is it possible then that such an amicable union should admit of the least division? For these sweet musical airs of entire affection, never suit well with those warbling measures which consist of divisions: 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉. For Friendship implies an Equality; nay, it is more Platonically spheared, and infers a Community. Now there are five degrees of Civil Society; 1. Is of one Family; 2. Of one City. Five degrees of civil society. Frieg. in prim. Offic. Cic. 3. Of Neighbourhood or Propinquity. 4. Of Amity. 5. Of one Country. All which produce effects in a several manner, according to their Contiguity, Analogy or Order. 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉. Albeit, that Society which derives itself from the lineal tye of blood, challengeth to itself the highest Prerogative. Now, I must not prescribe you what Neighbours you are to have, but how to demean yourselves with those you have. And of these, none are held more dangerous, than such as are either superciliously insolent, or furiously impatient. For the former, that Poet portrays him to life in these his lofty and enlivened measures: whose proper similes so nearly allude unto him, as I cannot omit him. Like to the bending shoulders of our Antics, Who seem as they'd supported the foundation Of an imperious Structure, when God wot Those arched ceilings, rafters, beams and all Would fe●le th' weight of their grandeure, and decline To mouldered Earth, had they no firmer Groundworks To buttress their rare Fabric:— So did th' Fly Ith' Fable glory, that she raised the dust Those Spoke-wheeles fanned;— Thus though sense forbid it, A Self-opinion ever thinks she did it. Neither be our impatient and violent spirits less incommodious in Neighbourly Offices. For with these, the least trespass is of such high quality and nature, as it must admit no Arbitrator. Archita's milky Dove must not build in their Lovure. It were a task of difficulty to consort with these neighbourly: and yet a moderate and well-composed temper may not only attemper such an humour, but bring his Neighbour to a recollection of himself, Vid. Plut. in Moral. and consequently to an acknowledgement of his error. These effects wrought Socrates, Stilpho, and that Tarentine Archita's in theirs: and the like Elixir may you extract from yours, if you seasonably apply your advice after the heat of their passion, and so by degrees bring them to enter treaty with reason. By which means you shall win them, by waning them from what did most unman them. Now, there is no better Office in the opinion of our soundest Moralists, that can be expressed by one Neighbour to another, Arist. in Eth. Sen. in Epist. Boet. Bern. then in moving him to peace, if he be contentious: and exhorting him to patience, if he be furious. Where two meek men meet together, their conference (saith Mellifluous Bernard) is sweet and profitable: where one man is meek, it is commodious: where neither, it proves pernicious. Hi necis Artifices, Ph●lari●, Phereclusque Perillu●, Quae texunt aliis, poena fuere suis. Dum vult esse praedo. fit praeda. Aug. For the contentious person, as he spins subtle webs to entangle others: for the most part (with that Grecian Shipwright Phereclus) he becomes a prey unto others. It is said, that Law, Logic, and the Swissers may be hired to fight for any one: Sure I am it holds with these factious men, whose disposition holds ever in opposition with peace: And can find a Fee for a Lawyer, when they can scarce find a farthing for a Dinner. These make their whole life a continued suit; till they have brought such an irrecoverable Consumption to their estate, as they leave no other inheritance to their posterity, than the Remains of a greater work, reversions of poverty. I must confess such litigious Tetters are dangerous Neighbours: for as they scorn to take wrong, so for most part they are as unwilling to do any one right. Yet a discreet temperate Neighbour may work much good upon such an indisposed Nature. Vid. Plut. Macrob. Strom. It is said Agltaidas, that he was a man of that surly and crooked disposition; as he dis-relished nothing more than the purchase of others affections. His only aim was to disturb others peace: and detract from others praise. Yet, behold, how this rough piece, of a surly Saturnine became affable; of a cloudy Critic, indifferently sociable, by a neighbourly consorting with those, whose propinquity of place, and familiarity of speech wrought strongly upon his spirit! Now, there is another Office in you requisite, and to your Neighbour expedient: And that is to afford your comfort by a seasonable exhortation of him to patience. If you find him dejected by receiving a legal censure otherwise then he expected, or, as he conceives, deserved: by which he holds himself so highly disparaged, as he is ever harping upon that sentence of Nicetas; Nicet. " No punishment so grievous as shame: Or that expression of Nazianzen, which retains a more impressive stamp; Nazian. Better were a man die right out, then ever live in reproach and shame: Or that disconsolate speech of Ajax, who being ready to dispatch himself, Homer. in in Odies. and with a desperate hand to divert the current of a maturer fate, used these as his last words; No grief doth so cut the heart of a generous and magnanimous man, as reproach and shame: Oh then defer no time, but seasonably apply your task by infusing into his breathing wounds some balmy comfort, such as that Cordial was of a divine Poet: Nulla tam tristis sit in orbe nubes, Quam nequit constans relevare pectus; Nulla cordati Scrinio Clientis Ansa querelis. No Cloud so dusky ever yet appeared, Which by minds armed was not quickly cleared; ne'er Suit to th' bosom of a Spirit cheered Sadly resounded. Again, should you find him afflicted with sickness, which he increaseth with a fruitless impatience; wishing a present period to his days, that so death might impose an end to his griefs. Suffer him not so to waste his Spirits; nor to dishonour him who is the searcher of Spirits; but apply some sovereign receipt or other to allay his distemper, which uncured might endanger him for ever. Exhort him to possess his soul in patience: and to supply this absence of outward comforts with the sweet relishing ingredients of some mental or spiritual solace. Ingenious Petrarch could say, Petrarch. de remed. utriusque fort. Be not afraid though the outhouse, (meaning the body,) be shaken, so the soul, the Guest of the body, fare well. And he closed his resolution, in a serious dimension, who sung: He that has health of mind, Cui mens sana fuit quid in orbe requireret ultra. Mens cujusque virum format, ut ille Scyphum. what has he not? 'Tis the mind that moulds the man, as man a pot. Lastly, do you find him perplexed for loss of some dear friend, whose loyal affection retained in him such a deep impression, as nothing could operate in him more grounded sorrow, than such an amicable division? Allay his grief with divine and humane reasons: Tell him how that very friend which he so much bemoans, is gone before him, not lost by him. This their division will beget a more merry meeting. Let him not then offend God by lamenting, for that which he cannot recall by sorrowing: nor suffer his too earthly wishes for his own peculiar end, to wish so much harm to his endeared friend as to make exchange of his seat and state of immortality, with a vale of tears and misery. Admit he died young; and that his very prime hopes confirmed the opinions of all that knew him, that a few maturer years would have so accomplished him, as his private friends might not only have rejoiced in him, but the public state derived much improvement from him. His hopeful youth should rather be an occasion of joy then grief. Prianus, quò diutius vixit, magis flevit. Ille Troilo ditior in annis: Troilus Priamo foelicior in lachrymis. Reg. Epicaed. Quantò maior fuit amor in possidendo, tantò gravior erit dolor in amittendo. Though Priam was more numerous in years, yet Troilus was more penurious in tears. The more days, the more griefs. No matter, whether our days be short or many, so those hours we live be improved and employed to God's glory. But leaving these, admit you should find him sorrowing for such a Subject, as deserves no wise man's tears: as for the loss of his goods. These tears proceed from despicable Spirits, and such whose desires are fixed on earth. So that, as their love was great in possessing them, so their grief must needs be great in foregoing them. Many old and decrepit persons; to whom even Nature promiseth an hourly dissolution; become most subject to these indiscreet tears: For with that sottish Roman, they can sooner weep for the loss of a Lamprey, then for the very nearest and dearest in their Family. At such as these, that Moral glanced pleasantly who said: Those tears of all others are most base, Nullae sunt lachrymae indigniores iis tandem quae à discrimine jumenti sunt orientes. which proceed from the loss of a beast. And these though their grounds of grief appear least, yet many times their impatience breaks forth most. Fearful oaths and imprecations are the accustomablest airs or accents which they breathe. These you are to chastise, and in such a manner and measure, as they may by recollection of themselves, agnise their error, and repeat, what that divine Poet sometimes writ, to impress in them the more terror: A domo domini perperàm jurantis, nunquam recedit ira tonantis. That house which is inur'd to swear, God's judgements will fall heavy there. These, as they are inordinate in their holding, so are they most impatient in their losing. And it commonly sareth with these men as it doth with the Sea-Eagle; Cum ferre quod cepit nequeat, in gargitem demergitur. Pittacus apud Laert. who by seeking to hold what she has taken, is drenched down into the gulf, from which she can never be taken. It was the saying of sage Pittacus, that the Gods themselves could not oppose what might necessarily occur: Sure I am, it is a vain and impious reluctancy to gainsay whatsoever God in his sacred-secret decree has ordained. His sanctions are not as man's, they admit no repeal. What avails it then these to repine, or discover such apparent arguments of their impatience, when they labour but to reverse what cannot be revoked, to annul that which must not be repealed? Exhort them then to suffer with patience, what their impatience cannot cure: and to scorn such servile tears, which relish so weakly of discretion, as they merit more scorn than compassion. Now, there is another kind of more kindhearted men, who though in the whole progress of their life, they expressed a competent providence; being neither so frugal as to spare where reputation bade them spend▪ nor so prodigal as to spend where honest providence bade them spare. Yet these, even in the shore, when they are taking their farewell of earth, having observed how their children, in whom their hopes were treasured, become profuse rioters, set the hoop an end, and turn Spendthrifts too: and so close their virile providence with an aged negligence: sprinkling their hoairy hairs with youthful conceits: and singing merrily with the Latian Lyric: Our children spend, Vt proles dispersit opes, spargamus & omnes. A Sanious juvenes efficiendo leves. and we'll turn spenders too, And, though Old-men, do as our young men do. This I must ingeniously confess is an unseemly sight: That old men when years have seized on them, and their native faculties begin to fail them; should in so debauched a manner make those discontents which they conceive from their children, the grounds of their distemper. For as the adage holds it prodigious for youth to represent age; Seni invenescere ludibrium Inveni senescere prodigium. Inventus et Aetas varias agans Scaenas. Quanto propinquior sepulchro, tanto porrectior in desiderio. Quanto minus suppetit, tanto magis appetit. In viribus deficiens, et in cupiditatibus proficiens. so is it ridiculous for age to personate youth. But for decrepit age, as it is for most part unnatural to be prodigal, so is it an argument of indiscretion for it to be too penuriously frugal. For to see one who cannot have the least hope of living long, to be in his earthly desires so strong; to be so few in the hopes of his succeeding years, and so full of fruitless desires and cares, what sight more unseemly? what spectacle more uncomely? That man, deluded man, when strength fails him; all those certain forerunners of an approaching dissolution summon him: and the thirsty hope of his dry-eyed executors makes them weary of him; that then I say, his eager pursuit of possessing more (when as he already possesseth more than he can well enjoy) should so surprise him, discovers an infinite measure of madness: for, as it divides his affections from the object of heaven, so it makes him unwilling to return to earth, when his gelid blood, his enfeebled faculties, and that poor mouldered remainder of his declining cottage, as they have made earth weary of him, so should they make him desirous to return to Earth. Now, as you cannot express a more Christian neighbourly Office, then in your private Arbours, to converse with these Groundlings; and acquaint them with the hopes of another life; and the fears of a second death: so even with all such as neighbour near you, when at any time you shall perceive any predominant irregular affection overswaying reason in them: Sicut lux sive ignis non melius accenditur quam ignem igni applicande: sic servi dei non melius inflammantur quam simul habitando. Serm-in Octau. Pas. to afford your best advice to reclaim them; by which means as you may win them, so may you win favour with the Highest by your so discreet, pious and seasonable endeavour to wain them. For as comfortable cordials are useful to such as be disconsolate: So are more sharp medicinable corrasives helpful to such whom a long custom of delinquency has made indurate. And so I briefly descend to the pleasantest, neither altogether the unprofitablest neighbourly Office, which we formerly, according to the distribution, of our Ethics, proposed; which particular office, discreetly moderated, cannot but redound with much mutual content to the parties so lovingly and neighbourly interessed. It is a received tenet; RECREATION. Apollo's bow must not hold ever bend, And once a year his laughter gives content. There is none so intentively serious, Ludo et j●co uti licet sicut somno et quiet. Cic. unless he be wholly drenched in mundane cares: or fastened to the privacy of a studious life: but he will reserve an hour to recreate his over-tyred spirits with his friend. Yet says that Flower of Roman Oratory, we are in these to use a restriction, lest of our recreation we make a profession. We are to make use of it, as of our sleep or rest: to cheer us, not to dull us. If we lie too long grovelling in it, we become stupid and insensate by it. This makes me recall to mind that pleasant Dialogue betwixt a Tutor and his Pupil; whom when his Tutor found lying a bed at nine of the Clock; he chid him, telling him that five hours were sufficient to lie in bed for necessity: and seven for recreation: And truly, said his Pupil, I thought good to make use of both; for I have lain twelve: So as, Tutor, you cannot justly blame me, having observed both mine hours of recreation and necessity. Now in Subjects of this nature, we shall find such variety; as they cannot choose but afford us delight, and that in a pleasing satiety. For these extend equally to the exercises both of body and mind. To the mind, to reason or contemplate: To the body, to practise or operate. The one being no less apt, (to use the words of that witty Centurist) to handle his book, than the other his ball: The one his Pen, the other his Pike. For the former of these, that neighbourly Farmer writing to his honest friend and Farrier, upon his Herald labour, exercised his wit in a recreative way after this manner. Parthen. in Miscell. marg. A Blacksmith, and a Writer! 'tis a strain, Well hammered forth by th' Anvil of the brain. Each period is a nail, that well bestows This praise on th' Author:" he has won his Shoes. He needs no Belloes to disperse his fame, Each Stroke returns an accent of his name. With common cates he does not cloy your gorge; Nay, what is rare, He works without a Forge. Admit you've broke, or lost your Arms, retain This man, he'll bring them to their use again. Nay, read till you be graveled, I'll assure you, Repair but to this Farrier, he will cure you. One Smelled shall serve for all; the more I read, The more, me thinks, He hits the nail o'th' head. So as I vow by th' Crown of Polihymnie, More learned smoke ne'er steamed from Lemnian chimney: Whose wel-composed Bulk for state and style, Needs not the help of any Vice or File: For th' more one looks, the more it would amaze one, To see a Mulciber a Coat deblazon: Succeeding years shall say, when these times pass, That never Horseleech such an Herald was: And Stationer too will wish, if't roundly sell; " Many such Smiths were in his Israel. Such harmless pleasing passages as these, do not only delight the fancy; but remain as pledges of neighbourly love and amity: whereas such light strains or jeering wits, as run descant on the same of their Neighbour: they may perhaps please themselves, but they cannot choose but dis-relish any well-disposed Hearer. For true ingenuity can never hold equi-page or relation with love of infamy or detraction. The dangers arising from opinionate wits. That wit retains the best state, which frees itself from others stain. Whereas, the too fat and fertile Soils of exuberant wits, for want of due culture, grow wild with weeds, and return to their Master a fruitless crop for all his labour. To divert from these; there is an other recreation more commonly used, then worthily approved: because the too free scope given to the use, has brought it into an abuse. I mean their too assiduate familiar-neighbourly meetings; which, though they imply love, yet they close too oft in violent extremes, The unexpected effects of frequent meetings. and apparent issues of hate. Frequent meetings and long sit cannot choose but produce unexpected effects; Especially seeing, that even the best tempered spirits, and sweet composed natures daily lose themselves by tasting too freely of Circe's cups: and of disceet Antenor's, become intemperate Elpenors: Entering those enchanted Cells like Lambs, but going forth like Lions. Neither (as I have often observed) did these distempers arise from any love they bore to the Cup, but their Companion: or some other attractive Motive, which lengtheneth the shots, and makes the merry-madding hour seem short. This that pleasant Pasquil daintily shadowed: An handsome Hostess needs not keep true score, A smile will cause her Guests stay one night more; She shows no curtsies, but they must requite them, While every kiss she lends, makes up an Item. Many misspent hours have these occasions produced; which upon a more serious, and indeed temperate consideration could not but be repent: For upon discussing expense of Time and Coin; how frivolous, if not noxious delights, begot a neglect in the former, than which nothing more precious: and a needless disrespect of the latter, than which nothing more profusely foolish: these could not choose but tax themselves of ignorance in the one, and improvidence in the other: Such Consorts as these, can neither make good Husbands for Wives; good Companions for Neighbours; good Masters of a Meney; nor trusty Friends to any. For the first, that Lydian Maid discovered her resolution fully, and imparted her mind freely, in her distaste to a Mate of this society: I'd rather die Maid, Virgineam citius vitam agam, Simias apud inferos ●raham. Sponsum quam obrium in thal●mum admittam. and lead Apes in Hell, Then wed an Inmate of Silenus' Cell. For the second, how can they perform the Office of a Neighbour, whose distempered brain cannot distinguish a Neighbour from a Stranger? For the third, how were it possible that they should be discreet Masters over others, who have not the discretion to be Masters of themselves? For the last, how should they be trusty to any, when intemperance has betrayed the trust of every faculty, and unriveted that golden Clasp of the memory, which should have retained (like a sure Recluse or Storehouse) the bowel of every secrecy? In your deportments then of this nature; as your reserved hours admit of moderate recreation, to allay the weight or grandeure of more serious business, make it only as a pastime, not as a continued task of passing time. Flies, when they play with the Candle, never leave it, till their wings are singed by it. Habit, as it is precious in the practice of virtue; so it grows pernicious in the exercise of vice. Observe then these circumstances in these inferior actions of delight. 1. With whom you consort. Circumstances observable in all inferior actions of delight. 2. For what end you consort. 3. To observe a mean, whereby you may attain the end, for which you consort. Now, to give an useful touch in each of these: That excellent Moral can inform you: The way to safety is to retire yourselves from company: but seeing humane society admits, nay enjoins it; you are to make choice of such as may improve your knowledge by it. Seneca. All good fellows are not good men. You are then to be no less cautious in your choice of company; than you would be of those you consort with, in a contagious or pestilential City: Ib. The way to infect all, is to mix the sick with the whole. The means to avoid this malady, is to make piety your directress in the course and choice of your society. Secondly, you are to consider for what end you consort. Not to ravel out time, as if no account were to be given of it: but to bestow it upon some useful discourse; such as may improve the Hearer, and return this testimony of you to the discreetest ear, that you come not thither to be time-spenders, but Improvers of your Talents to yourselves and others. Thirdly, you are to observe a mean, whereby you may attain the end. Distemper is an ill Manager of any business. This (as hath been shown in his Introduction to the first Observance) will prevent all occasion of distaste, & divert all grounds of future distrust. He winds up the Series of his discourse, with a repetition and useful application of every particular branch. And in the course or passage of occasions to admit any unnecessary diversion, mainly troubles the current, or inlet of occasion. Avoid both these: Let neither your bloods be inflamed through distemper: nor your occasions diverted by any irregular or indisposed humour. So shall these amicable intercourses of yours, not only redound to the benefit of the Hearer: but return into your own bosoms with much profit and honour. Now to take our work out of the Loom; you may remember how in this our last Observance, we told you that these Neighbourly Offices, either pitched upon Arguments of Discourse and Communication; or upon Action and Negotiation; or Pastime and Recreation: in the pursuit or agitation whereof, you were to be cautelous of the Life, Fame, or Substance of such with whom you stood interessed. Of all which, with no less brevity than perspicuity we have so far treated, as nothing now remains to be further handled or discussed, save only Substance; which being in the estimate of opinion the least, we have reserved for the last. We shall briefly descend to that too; that nothing may be omitted wherein your knowledge may be improved, and these mutual Offices better performed; which even in humane society are necessarily to be preserved. Vid. Plut. in Moral. Touching this then, a better moral Direction you cannot receive, then from that well contented and rightly tempered Tarentine: who protested that he never saw his Neighbour's field flourish, but he rejoiced in the fecundity of it, as if it had been his own. His welfare made him smile. His success caused him to give thanks to the gods, as if that success had redounded to his own goods. This well-disposed Ethick had not an evil eye. He knew not how to repine or murmur when his Neighbour did prosper. Be you of the like mind. As it is an Angelical virtue, to rejoice at another's good: so is it a Diabolical Vice, Anselm. to repine at another's gain. Let not your eye be evil, because another's good. Be it your salutation, when you pass by them, in your devoutest prayers to bless them: saying," God speed you, We wish you good luck, May you prosper in your labour to his glory whom you honour. This salutation was by the ancient Latians used, as it is even to this day by us retained: Sit Deus vestris al● laboribus; Sit Deus vestris aura laboribus; Sit Deus costis s●ctus amoribus; Sit Deus gratio portus ho●●ribus. These if you duly observe; when you see your Neighbour's field look fat, (to use the saying of that wise Cynic) it will not make your cheeks look lean. That marrow-eating envy cannot grind you, because your neighbours prosperous success doth infinitely cheer you. You will not stumble on his meere-stone, nor remove his Buttoll to enlarge your own, because you tender his welfare equally as your own. His loss must not procure your curse: because your best wishes ever close with his success. Let us draw in our Sails, and contract all in one. Would you, gentlemans, in your reflection upon Conjugal Offices, perform the duty of good Husbands? Eph. 5.25. Eccles. 9.9. Love your Wives, even as Christ loved the Church, and gave himself for it. And rejoice with those whom you have loved. Observe likewise that mutual office and benevolence betwixt them and you: and let none partake in your love, but those who are affianced to you. The Wife hath not the power of her own body, 1 Cor. 7.4. but the Husband: and likewise also the Husband hath not the power of his own body, but the Wife. This mutual interest thus confined, should make your hearts the more individually united. Perform then the Office of good Elkanahs, 1 Sam. 1.5. etc. loving Husbands: so may you find in your Wives, the like mutual affections. And ye Wives, who are thus happily espoused, render a fair requital unto them, in whose esteem you are so much endeared. Tit. 2.5. 1 Tim. 2.12. Be discreet, chaste, keeping at home, good, and subject unto your Husbands; usurp no authority over them, but be in silence. This Conjugal Office, by a sweet introduced habit, will become a Solace. Secondly, touching parental Offices; As ye children are to obey your Parents in the Lord, Eph. 6▪ 1.4. for this is right: So are ye Fathers not to provoke your Children to wrath: but bring them up in instruction, and information of the Lord. Thirdly, for Domestic Offices; As ye Servants, are to be obedient unto them that are your Masters; Tit. 2.9. pleasing them in all things, not answering again: So ye Masters, do the same things unto them, putting away threatening. This in every private Family will beget a sweet consorting harmony. Lastly, in Neighbourly Offices; As ye Neighbours are to please one another in that that is good to edification; Rom. 15.2. 1 Cor. 10.24. Let no man seek his own, but every man another's wealth. These Offices thus performed, what can be less expected than such a sweet union of minds and affections; as these two Consorts here combined, and to one volume reduced, cannot in their loves be more firmly cemented, than they harmoniously joined? Be it then your care to preserve this fair contexture; trust me, it will confer on your Family, where virtue gives the best beauty, more true honour, than the easie-resolving varnish of fortunes, or whatsoever may outwardly accommodate you. For in the Survey of these, He concludes this Supplement with a brief relation of the benefit of every particular Subject. you shall find such a fair provision, as it may prepare you to be loyal Lovers, discreet Fathers, just Masters, friendly Neighbours: and which is above all, such absolute Commanders of your own affections, as should all those occurrents which encounter mortality, oppose you, they could not surprise you, because a pious resolution hath reered her counter-mure to secure you. This Task I shall account happy, so it may redound to your profit, God's glory. FINIS. A Tablet reflecting upon this SUPPLEMENT. A Preamble, branching itself into a brief Analysis of the whole Tract. pag. 1. Of Conjugal Offices. pag. 6. OBSERVAT. 1. The excellent saying of Caia, wife to Caius Tarqvinius. ibid. The noble Florentines Impreze, which he caused to be engraven for a Nuptial Emblem. pag. 7 Conjugal Offices are not to be disorderly mixed. Palaemon, si Caulam negligat, Galataeam faciet indigentem: Galataea, si Colum deserat, Palaemonem faciet insipientem. p. 9 The Offices of a Wife to her Husband. pag. 10 Wonderful Examples of Piety and Mortification. p. 13 A discreet loving Treaty betwixt a Wife and her Husband, recommended to the constant practice of all affectionate Censorts. p. 14 Offences ingenuously acknowledged, are with conjugal piety and pity to be pardoned: and this locally instanced. p. 15 Of parental Offices. p. 16. OBSERVAT. 2. A parental care reflects properly upon two distinct Objects: Internal. external. The one to educate them in Principles of Religion: the other to accommodate them for a Vocation. p. 16. 17. etc. The highest point of discretion in a Schoolmaster, is to find out the disposition of his Scholar. p. 18 Inconsiderate youth accounts the fruitless expense of time, a mere pastime. ib. Parents are to dispose of their estates now, while they stand seized of estates, lest their decease alter the intention of their estates. p. 22 The Offices of Children to their Parents. ibid. Children are bound to render unto their Parents expressions of their duty and zeal, in three respects: Obedience. p. 23. etc. Reverence. p. 23. etc. Supportance. p. 23. etc. The fruits of Obedience, as they have relation both to Children and Parents. p. 25 The Admonition of an incensed Father to a disobedient Son. p. 27 A constant position observable in disobedient Children. p. 28. The gradual respects of love and duty. p. 30 Of Domestic Offices. p. 31. OBSERVAT. 3. The Offices of Masters to their Servants. ibid. Two extremes or perilous Poles to be avoided, whereby this Domestic Obedience may be better observed: Lenity. p. ibid. Severity. p. ibid. No Servant meaner than a Parsimonious Master. p. 32. The duty of Servants to their Masters. p. 34 The duty of a Servant to his Master, will make a Servant an happy Master. ibid. Emblematical Hieroglyphics of sloth. p. 35 Adam no sooner became sinful, than the earth unfruitful. ibid. It is not sufficient for a Servant to intend his own peculiar charge, unless he admonish others of the neglect of their care. p. 36 Of Neighbourly Offices. p. ibid. OBSERVAT. 4. All Neighbourly Offices pitch upon three particulars: Arguments of Discourse or Communication. p. 36. etc. Arguments of Action and Negotiation. p. 36. etc. Arguments of Pastime and Recreation. p. 36. etc. Four cautions in matters of Discourse to be avoided; that all grounds of distaste may be better diverted. Telling marvailes. p. 37 Pressing reasonings. p. 37 Lessening others merits. p. 37 Making comparisons. p. 37 Three particulars observable in arguments of Discourse: Verity. ibid. Utility. ibid. Modesty. ibid. Three peculiar Subjects, wherein these Neighbourly Offices are to be exercised: LIFE. p. 38 FAME. p. 38 SUBSTANCE. p. 38 Five degrees of civil society: 1 Of one Family. p. 39 2 Of one City. p. 39 3 Of Neighbourhood or Propinquity. p. 39 4 Of Amity. p. 39 5 Of one Country. p. 39 The dangers arising from opinionate wits. p. 44. The unexpected events of frequent meetings. p. 45▪ Circumstances observable in all inferior actions of delight: 1 With whom we consort. p. 46 2 For what end we consort. p. 46 3 The mean, p. 46 whereby we may attain the end for which we consort. HE winds up the Series of his discourse, with a repetition, and useful application of every particular branch. ibid. The usual salutation by the ancient Lations observed, and as it is to this day by us retained. p. 47 HE concludes this Supplement, with a brief relation of the benefit of every particular Subject. ibid. A Conclusive POEM contracting all these Subjects in one. BY Him, who steers the stern of every State, Inspires our Muse, informs us how to write, That Palm of peace, that day which knows no date, That Sole-all-seeing, and surveying sight, That wings our faith, and cheers us when we fight: " By His sweet influence was this begun " With whom it ends, and so my Work is done. To you then, ENGLISH gentlemans; to whom Our first part is addressed:— Bestow your care To act what may Gentility become; That as ye in your Father's Fortunes share, Your Virtues may proclaim whose Sons ye were. " 'Tis this will leave your Names more eminent " Than Honour, fading Favour, or Descent. Next, to you ENGLISH LADIES; who express A native beauty in each act ye do, Let good resolves prepare your morning dress, And think on Heaven when wanton Suitors woo, Or on those Mates ye stand affianced to. " Fame is a precious odour, whose least grain " Once shed, is hardly gathered up again. LADY'S LOVE LECTURE to you have I read, Where ye such fresh-choice-fragrant flowers may cull As ye no other Ornaments shall need; Fill then your Iv'ry-azured bosoms full, ne'er any such did Atalanta pull. " Prove useful Readers then, and, if ye err, " Condemn me for a careless Lecturer. Lastly, I've closed all in a SUPPLEMENT, Where modest terms describe the art of love, Which to the rest gives such Embellishment, 'Tis styled the TRIUMPH of the TURTLE-DOVE, Whose reall-loyall Emblems if ye prove, " I shall not choose but like where ere I look, " And for your sakes make bold to kiss the Book. FINIS. FOR THE MOST VIRTUOUS, AND Nobly-Accomplisht LADY, THE RIGHT HONOURABLE, ELIZABETH, (DOWAGER) COUNTESS of STRAFFORD; HIGHLY EMINENT IN THE SCALE OF THE SERIOUSED, AND SERENEST JUDGEMENTS, FOR HER PIOUS CONSERVATION OF THE LIVING MEMORY OF Her most Absolute CONSORT. A CHARACTER OF HONOUR. TO write of Honour, and not amply, according to Honour's Character, were a derogation to her: and to write exactly, would require a more expert and judicious Artist, than every rude Myson to take in hand a subject of such consequence; But virtue, as she is best adorned when least garnished with external colours: so Honour is most lively when she seems most naked of Rhetorical Varnish. The best Morals have ever portrayed Justice by a scale, poising every action duly, discussing every ambiguity throughly, without fixing of her eye on the object of Majesty commanding, or of Amity (with more easy means) persuading; They have deciphered Fortitude, not by Thrasoe boast, or a precipitate opposing herself to all dangers without mature judgement to foresee, and resolution to prevent the iminency of all occurrents: which made Homer dilate upon the essence of true Fotitude, represented in Hector, as an Archytipe no less imitable, then for mannagement in all Assays admirable: He brings him in dehorting his brother Paris, from his inconsiderate purpose: with this good caveat. It becometh us not to take Arms upon every sensual respect, but to ground the motion of war upon a cause honestly moving. To be brief, there should be no virtue which should not rather-character herself, by her own purity, then be displayed by a curious or affective style; which rather detracts than augments those perfect and unstained ornaments wherewith she is endued: and that which Cicero speaks of the office of an Orator, censuring that Speech as most vicious, which seems most curious; may I speak of Honour, whose dependence is of Virtue: only illustrated in herself, because her essence gives to her more eminence than the polished styles of the best Rhetoricians could ever effect. But I will descend into the particular discourse of truly honourable: What they should be that arrogate that Name, and what they are that merit it. Honour relisheth best, when highliest descended: not boasting with Lycus in the Tragedy of noble Ancestors, but of inward virtues; making their minds the purest mansions of Nobility; their virtues, the symbols of their d●scent and progeny. For what is it to challenge precedency by our Ancestors, being made Noble by them, whom our own actions perchance, makes as ignoble? I can approve that disposition of Alexander the best; who rather wished his Father's exploits (though not in envy) to be obscured, whereby his own memorable achievements might purchase him glory, not by relation had to the prowess of his Father, but his own demerits; yet not with a too listening ear of attention, hearing his warlike designs above truth praised: but more willing to do, then hear of his doings. For hearing Aristobulus on a time commending his memorable acts far above truth in his writings, He threw the book into the river, as he was sailing over Hydaspis', saying, he was almost moved to send Aristobulus after. For this I have always observed in an honourable mind: no popular conceit can transport her above her Shpaere; She cannot endure a temporising Humorist, that feeds on the air of his own applause; but like a wise Ithacus commits the sails of his prudent and provident affections to be disposed by Virtue, stopping his ear at the Incantations of the voice-alluring Siren, or cup-attracting Cyrce. An honourable man stireth his Ship with no Stern of Ambition, but with a temperate opinion of himself and his own Actions: referring the whole current and passage of his intentions, purposes and endeavours to his Country's welfare: whose safety he prefers before his own: wishing rather death with a good opinion of his country, then immerited honours with her detriment. The Truly Honourable will accept of no honours but such as her deserts challenge: nor those neither, if not obtruded. This moved many of the Ancient Heroes, whose acts deserve no less memory, than their lives did glory, to expose themselves to all perils, whereby their names might be recorded in the Annals of Fame: leaving not only Statues or Monuments of what they have been, but by the exact representation of their virtues, what they are; for even the Pagans reserved a place of honour and celebrity to such as had either exempted their Country from the servitude of her enemy, or had augmented her glory by the voluntary resignation of their lives. Such were the memorable Annals of the Decii, Curtij, Bruti. Many of the worthy managers of State in former times, desired to have no statues to be erected in their glory, rather making their own virtues the liveliest records of their memory; the reason whereof may be conceived or at least conjectured) by those occurrents which even happened in their times: being pursued by that public foe to virtue and all virtuous intendments, Envy: which (marrow-eating locust) attended the worthiest personages that then breathed. Caesar had a Pompey, Pompey a Septimius: Philotas' his Perdiccas, Perdiccas his Pausanias, Antigonus his Pharnaees, Tigranes his Tiridates. African a Marius, Eschines a Demosthenes, Cicero a Cethegus. This might move, and that not without just cause, that Column of justice, Lacedaemon's glory, virtuous Agesilaus, to erect no statue in his honour, lest his lifes Ideome after death should be no less contemned, than he was in his life envied: In meum honorem simulachra erigi non cupio, ea enim magis gloriam detrahunt quam augent: in hoc autem humili thoro fama mea ab aliorum invidia maximè aliena est: I desire to have no statue nor curious monument erected in mine honour: they rather diminish than propagate our Glory; my Fame is least envied in this low and dejected Bed of earth. Poor Prince, shall thy Name, which hath spread itself by so many victories achieved so many conquests purchased, non sine sanguine & sudore, shall they fear to be vanquished or suppressed by times anatomy, cankered envy, that never knew what Honour meant, but by corrupting honour? O then how vain be those Trophies which are hung in honour of those Heroes of former times! What availeth it Cyrus of the translated Monarchy from the Medes to the Persians? or for Alexander to have reduced the whole world into one Monarchy? or Caesar so far to have dispersed his glory, making his motto— Veni, Vidi, Veci? The envenomed breath of one serpentine spirit can consume, so great and happy virtues, which once aspired to that height, that eminence, as they enstyled their possessors truly Heroical; making Flaccus axiom no less true to demonstrate our declining memory, then to describe our Time's mortality: Quò pius Encas, quo Tullus dives & Ancus? Pulvis & umbra sumus.— Dust and ashes indeed; yet such, as albeit the slimy substance of the external man rest immured and incaged in the Bowels of earth; yet there is an aethereal, an heavenly aspiring beauty which cannot be depressed with the terrene and massy weight of earth's interior centre— alta petit, nec cessat, quoad altissima perringit. It hovereth higher, as a Bird far removed from her native repose, till it arrive at those Elysian Fields of true immortality, where her expected habitation is possessed— even the mansion of heavenly Zion. Hence therefore may those carnal and epicureall men, who have wallowed in all mundane delights, drunk deep of the sensual Lethe of their security, be confounded with shame; who relinquishing the offered time of grace, expose themselves to the Brothels of sin and impiety, forgetting all respect of honour, as Corvinus Messala did his own Name— and when they behold the admired and most resplendent honours of our Time, either to decline by some in auspicious accident, or cut by the common scythe of Fate, compare their contaminate lives with their refined virtues. They are gone, and who will now remember them? They were pillars of the state, while they lived, but now the state is altered; where be all the fruits of their fruitless cares? ☞ the harvest of so industrious labours? where is that great attendance which gained them observation in the eye of the world? our state is now more happy, we breathe not on others breath▪ yet receive no less content by our riot; we are not publicly observed, and yet observe no less repute by private attendance; we live merrily; and die without the least perturbation, anguish or pensive distraction of a mind surcharged with care, overbalanced with distress: ●e think not of ample inheritances, nor make others riot in our funerals: castè & cautè vivunt, qui aliorum quadrâ non vivunt, saith the Comic; and we may believe him. Our privacy gains us a retired liberty; rest is not purchased by honour, nor the date of our time protracted by the ambitious wings of preferment. Thus will the Sileni of our time descant upon honour's ruin, interpreting life, virtue's best reward: when no less distaste is conceived by the truly virtuous, of these distempered humours, which proceed from the cachexy or evil disposition of our minds, than that renowned Philosopher Heraclitus did by the vanity of Ephesus, or Diogenes by the vain and fruitless rarities of Synope. For He is truly Honourable, who employeth his oil, the faculties of his soul, so to his Countries avail, that he may attain a more glorious seat, in his Country Supernal. Neither are we to hold the ornaments of Honour only derivative from their Prince's favour. We have seen many eminent in their eye, whose actions have thrown a worthy Odium upon their Persons, ☞ by abusing the grace bestowed on them: and bringing a fatal and fearful combustion upon the State by their ambition, or appetite of revenge: or some other indirect aim; as all ages can present instances, and these of our own, to our grief, even in these our late distractions. And though Families of high extraction and innate honour might be held worthiest to fit at the Stern, and to manage the highest affairs of State; yet have Princes suffered in their too much confidence: and fall'n under their umbrage, by whom in their greatest extremes, they ought to have been supported. And to enlarge our Observations in this particular; whence is it to be thought, that this degeneration ariseth? Is it from corruption of blood, or of time? We shall find a decay or defection in both: Effeminacy or Delicacy being generally Nursers of our Gentry: which cannot choose but make Plants sprung from eminent Descents look unlike themselves. So as, where Honour and Valour with other decoring endowments, should close in competition with one another: Education, which is a second Nature, intervenes and tells them, that their Breeding never schooled them in any such notions. Former times might find Seminaries for such abilities: but a long continued peace and fullness of Fortunes have made the excercise of those abilities useless. But shall we proceed a little further, and unrip the occasion or ground of this malady? we shall render it briefly and truly. Plat. in Repub. Zenoph. in Cyro. paed. Let us suppose a Prince (as in a Platonic Idea) seated in his Chair of State; and in a full Assembly as in his Senate-house: where Persons of quality and such as are elected for the benefit and indemnity of their Country appear Assistants. And in this Grand Convene, Proposals of high concern are debated: but clearly carried by the Plebeian Party; as in our Roman Annals, we may find sundry Precedents. Whence is it, I say, that the Candidates and those of nobler extraction should veil to the Lower: and to their Prince's prejudice and regal privilege▪ subscribe to their decretals? Is it weakness or personal interest, that begets in them this remissness? No; not wholly from weakness; though their judgements be not of the first sight, but their facility in subscribing to inferior Votes, is grounded upon three respects. Popularity; Self-ends and Pusillanimity. The reasons you shall hear thus discussed. It was well observed by a Statesman in our time; whose travels had sufficiently read unto him, how Plebeian votes were ever for crying up liberty of Subjects; and subjection of Sovereigns: that nothing was more dangerous to a State government, than this popular overswaying power: being ever overclouded with discontents: and picking quarrels at the present Government, were it never so prudently managed, nor peaceably administered. Innovation is the posture of State, they aim at: which, though it introduce with it many fearful consequences; they will choose rather to smile on their own approaching ruin; then admit that State or Condition be it never so calm nor serene, so long as they hold it incapable of a Change. Now would you know the cause why these Plebeian votes pass for current; and receive no opposition? We are to understand, how Highest Families are not ever endued with the pregnant'st wits, nor percivest judgements. They find subtle groundlings, who, though they came but th' other day from Cart & never looked so high as into the glorious Orisons of a Court; yet they have found the way how to over-wit those perfumed ingenuities: who ravell out time in their Court-dialect: and by intending more the trim than the dress; spoil the pursuit of their arguments: and give easy way to their rural Opponents: who, though less neat, hold more to Substance: and win ground upon those State-popinja●es, by taking advantage upon their impertinencies. But to omit these; for all of them retain not a savour of this Cask; there is another bait, which these Lordly Lobsters usually nibble at; being a politic design, as they conceit it; the apprehension whereof (though it expire like an airy fancy) has great influence over them. And what is this illusion, but a popular opinion? Their desire is to feed on vulgar air; the steam whereof for most part chokes them. They have heard perchance, of some Persons, who by suffrage of the people, and their applause, have swollen great in the opinion of the State: and sometimes by being borne upon their shoulders, have attained the highest pitch of Command. They observe, how the fame of men's actions receives more life from popular opinion, than any other Instrument of State. These be they who rubricate their own fancy: preferring a singular Opinion before a Consistory. And in this they canonize their own fancies, by applying that rhapsody of the Poet, to the imaginary extension of their spreading shadows: quam pulchrum est digito monstrari, & dicier hic est? As the Theatre, whereon they act their mimick-tyming parts, are hung about with the Arras of vanity: so their prime care is to woe and ingratiate their Spectators, and by winning in upon their affections, to purchase their applause in the Close of their Actions. But as we commonly note, that Bystanders see more than the Gamesters; so fares it with these deluding Changelings. For by labouring to please those of inferior judgements, these Mechanics below the Stage; they lose themselves in the opinion of these serious and mature Censors; those Gallant Gallery wits (to pass by those Feminine Boxes, where pregnancy even in Criticism, ofttimes transcends the quality of their sex) who can discover their defects; for so enlivened are their judgements, and so far distanced from a popular verge, where conceit, like a restrained vassal, is tied to the dimension of the Object they look on, and no further; as they know well how to distinguish betwixt a Roscius and a Lysias. Popularity is an affected kind of Action; which the higher it mounts, it ever lesseneth itself the more in the eye of judgement. Surely would Honour equally Balance her own worth, and enter into a serious consideration with its own extraction; she would blush at nothing more, then in suffering herself to be deluded with such a fanatic shadow of fruitless glory: which (though it promise much) is ever failing in her reality of performance: and not only failing the expectance; but drawing the too credulous Believer into a dangerous precipice; from which no thread, were it never so curiously spun by the artful or subtle hand of an Ariadne, may ever free him. It is prevention that is the life of Policy; but if opportunity be not taken by the foretop; He fails in his pursuit of prevention, by neglecting the season. Let Honour beware of aspiring, or raising herself one Story higher, either by indirect ways, or weak hopes; both which She shall find, like so many Egyptian Reeds, rather piercing than strengthening her in her Progress, or Ascent to Greatness in her pursuit of popular fame; which seldom or never accompanied the merit of any action: but observes the issue, & upon that success grounds the basis of their opinion. Honour should derogate much from her true native value, in entertaining such flitting and fly blown Followers; who act nothing with alacrity but innovation, faction & disloyalty. Thus far you have heard what strong influence this Popular Froth has upon Adulterate Honour; which, as it retains a Glow-worm Light, so it deceives others with its false splendour, and makes the pursuers of it most unfortunate. We shall little need to strengthen this Assertion with Instances: our own Chronicles may afford us variety, without ranging further. Now to the second Motive; wherein we shall lay open unto you, how powerfully Self-ends operate upon this painted Greatness. Their Revenues are such Landmarks, as they direct their course by them. These make them conclude positively, though poorly for Persons of descent and quality: Si mihi res constet, Satis est; quo publica flerem? Non aliâ pendet compage nostra domus. Public safety is the lightest feather in their Scale. So they may riot and play the sensual Libertines in the free and undisturbed enjoyment of their own; they hold the Game well played to their advantage. No defection of Subjects; no alteration of Government, no decrease of Commerce, no hostile invasion by a surreptitious Nation; can work much upon their Affections: or resolve their adamantine temper to a compassionate tear, The wheel of their Fortune holds a constant course, amidst these inconstant and vertiginous wheelings of the State. And this is enough for them. Now to preserve these, and stand at distance, like privileged Persons, secured from exception or opposition; they ever have an intentive eye upon the stronger Party. And these they follow with a servile reverence. How happy had it been for these Moths of Honour to have been Soldiers of Fortune, or younger Brothers, or persons of inferior quality; that the lowness of their condition might have freed them from the pursuit of such dishonourable Self-ends. The Maxim is true: O quam multi foeliciores fuissent, si minus possedissent! whereas, a spirit clothed with true habiliments of honour, will rather suffer all extremes; then admit an injurious or disgraceful bargain in the sale or prostitution of his honour. Sext. Aurel. The Historian returns us the relation of a foolish Emperor; who, when news came unto him, that Rome was taken; He imagining it to be his Hen which he called Roma, fell into a violent passion, and torrent of tears for the loss of his Bird. I cannot more properly resemble them then to this brainsick Prince; who preferred so contemptible a Creature before the Surprise of his own Person, and the ruin of his Empire. Tears have easy issues and avenues that break forth upon such inconsiderable trifles. And this, even in this last Scene & Catastrophee of our embroiled State, (as some of our traducing Critics blanche it) might we find instanced in sundry Persons of note; whose actions, in parallel lines directly tended to this Centre. For although they beheld Spectacles of grief every where numerously presented, the No Government but may present the Face of a Commonwealth; So long as good Laws be regents, and Subjects real in their Obedience. Principes tyrannidem gravitis exercent quam Optimates; ni optimi sint Principes. Bodin. de Repub. Face of their Country changed; those whom they held in time of peace deservingly honoured, & in relation to themselves most endeared; stripped of what they justly enjoyed: & for their honest Principles, exposed to the weight of an injurious and Malignant Censure; yet some of these, whose ripe and mellow years, besides the distractions of the time, might have taught them a more useful lesson; never, or very coldly applied the sundry traverses of others misfortunes to their own condition. Their Connivance and Concurrence with those Eminent Votaries, who bore the sway, and made their Wills, their Laws; would (as they hoped) secure their Persons and States. But they found their ill-grounded confidence mere foolishness. The umbrage of that A fair Conquest cannot properly rceive the Style of Usurpation. Paraeus. usurped greatness, whereon they relied, could not supersede that guiltiness, which their actions, though with much privacy carried, had casually incurred. It was the least of their care, and took the lowest place in their apprehension of grief, to see a late-flourishing State much envied by foreign Nations (being such a Storehouse of all necessary provision, and an enclosed Garden of selected delicacies) to see, I say, so choice and well-cultuated a Soil, soiled with perfidious feet, and made a wild This by inversion, was sometimes the complaint of the Peers, against the Boors of France, occasioned upon their late distractions. Forest for rational Brutes. This they lightly resented; it begot no qualm in them to see the State quite turned off the hinges: so they remained secure by hugging the Constitutions of a Which Corruption ariseth not wholly from the indisposure of a State; but distemper of Mind. Corrupted State; and by virtue of that protection, were not in fear to be turned out of their own Houses. Thus have you heard how straitlaced these selfe-interested Personages are, and have been ever to their own ends; being deterred from opposition, or speaking in defence of their Country or ancient-regall privileges in time of danger for fear of loss; or through some other servile respects, by being overawed with number, a great derogation to Persons of Honour. We are now to descend to the last, but lowest Staire; wherein we shall find how these declining spirits retardate their flight in the pursuit of honourable actions, through Pusillanimity. So as, none would hold them, by seriously reflecting on them, but for such a Broad as had been hatched from the Eggs of those Paphlagonian Partridges; Aelian. which our naturalists report to have no hearts. Neither be our Neuters much better: who, like those Salmacian Sharks have two hearts; for these can screw their posture to the time, and become serviceable shadows to any commands; presenting hope of advantage or assurance to their present condition. These Cinnamon-curtaine Lordings, who sacrifice more devotion to their Glass and Complexion, than any noble design, or virile action; being schooled only in the discipline of Compliment, & Frenchifide wholly in Ducks, Cringes and Congees; These, I say, having left their Father's Houses, (ancient Monuments of Hospitality) have resolved, (for so their Effeminate course proclaims) neither to increase nor preserve the Honour of them. The Camp has ever held an antipathy to the Curtain. Loyalty, or what address soever, look it never so fixtly upon Honour, cannot gentilize their Humour. Their growth professeth them mere State-Sycamours; all for shade, nought for fruit. Or such as the witty Emblematist portrayed under the notion of Galeati Lepoares, who would be in the Van at a Feast, but in the Rear at a Fray; These men's resolutions are not to endanger their persons upon any rate. To obtain a Victory without hazard, and partake a rich spoil without blood, is the height of their ambition: & the utmost pitch of their valour. To see a Kingdom at Stake, or a Prince acting his last tragic Scene on a Stage; is not so much as resented by them. Pusillanimity has begot in them such a strange kind of Charity (if it may without offence assume that name) as they can look upon the innovated deformity of a State; violation of Laws and liberties, profanation of divine honour, or whatsoever is most odious to humanity, without a thought of revenge: or aim to redress. Were Honour to be purchased in their days by the sword; how slowly would it be conferred: how weakly merited? Such is the mettle of these partiall-guilt pieces of Sophisticated Honour: it cannot endure the touch. Yet we shall observe in many of these, military promises: presentments of valour: but wherein consist they? In surly and supercilious Looks to their over awed followers: or affronts to disgraced favourites: but these Lions within verge of the Court, appear ever Lambs in the Campe. They bless them from the report of a Cannon, as from a stroke of Thunder. Youth enured to a Canopy, is not so easily disciplined in a course of Soldiery. It was the saying of Epaminondas; That he could not fiddle, but he knew how to make a small village a glorious City. Whereas these, whose Character we return in this place, are just Antipodes to his harmony. A Chest of Viols, or a set of Lutes, is the only brave military File wherein they desire to be inlisted. If this be the Those were held in the Roman account worthy of Honour, who, without any relative extraction acquired it by their Valour. Var. de Antiq. Rom. Velleius de mor Gent. Val. in C. de Fort. Viger. de Milit. Arist. in Polit. Polyb. Badge of Honour, let feminine delicacy arrogate to itself, the style of Valour. But these be dull-pallid colours in the Annals of Heraldry: and deserve no other deblazonry (to beget a glowing blush in their successors) than lines blanched with infamy. Let us here then in the Close of our Character, present these Advertisements to Honour; that she may know how and in what posture to preserve her State cleared from the opinion of a deceiving lustre: by appearing more really-gracefull, then poorely-popular. To complete this Work, it will conduce highly to her advantage, to be a constant professor of fidelity; in the first place to Sovereignty. And next in all offices of Amity. An affable smile gives an excellent grace to the countenance of Honour. Amicitia nunquam minore acquirenda est dispendio quam Clementiâ. Clemency gains most with least cost. In her express of bounty, or works of Charity, let Discretion be her Almoner: By an indisposed liberality, many have lost more than they have won. In Actions of valour, Honour should be rather resolute than daring: and in nothing more confident then in the maintenance of a good Cause. For Habit; more comely than gaudy, is the nearest livery: being to be known better by what we are, than what we wear. For Diet; delicacy should be a stranger to her palate. These Olia's of our Time have brought an Odium upon our State. Last, a princely command or composure of Her Affections, will return Her absolute in all. FINIS.