THE TABLET OF CEBES THE THEBAN PHILOSOPHER; OR A TRUE EMBLEM Of Human Life: Done out of Greek into English.  
With an Additional Treatise Concerning TRANQVILLITY of MIND, Written by HIPPARCHUS.  
And Translated By ROBERT WARREN, Student of CHRIST'S College in CAMBRIDGE.  
Quicquid agunt Homines, Votum, Timor, Ira, Voluptas,  
●audia, Discursus, nostri est Farrago Libelli.  Juven. Sat. 1. 
CAMBRIDGE, 〈◊〉 for John Pindar, Bookseller 〈◊〉, 1699.   

Imprimatur.  
WILL: DAWES, Vice-Chanc:  
S. BLITHE.  
JA: JOHNSON.  
GABR: QUADRING.   

TO The REVEREND, WORTHY, and TRULY LEARNED, Mr JOSHUA BARNES, Bachelor of Divinity, Senior Fellow of EMMANUEL College in CAMBRIDGE, AND The KING's GREEK PROFESSOR in that UNIVERSITY.  
LEARNED SIR,  
DEDICATIONS are now a days so much in fashion, so frequently made use of, to recommend all manner of Books to the World; that should any Manual, though never so small, appear barefaced without one, our Nice and Critical Age would be apt to cast severe Reflections upon it; to condemn it, as mean and contemptible; and its Author as Friendless, and a Person of no Account.  
To avoid these misfortunes, I have made choice of so Eminent a PATRON for this following Tractate; whose Merit cannot be controverted, but by those, who have none: and whose Candour renders Him Gracious to all, but those who are prejudiced with Envy and Ill-nature.  
The Principal end of prefixing Your Great Name to it, is to give a public Testimony of that deep obligation, which Your repeated Favours have laid upon me. Particularly, Your Diligent Perusal of this very Manual; by whose warrantable Recommendation it was brought to the Press. Should I therefore have Dedicated it to any other, I am sensible, I had done quite contrary to the Laws of Justice, and Gratitude.  
Sir, without any Formal Compliments, or Fawning Addresses, I acknowledge myself to be highly obliged to You; and upon that Account You might justly challenge either this, or any other of my best Performances.  
To You therefore, I with all Modesty and Humility recommend this TABLET, as a Gem of great Value, being Composed by so Elegant an Author; Beseeching You to Shelter it under the Umbrage of Your most safe Protection. And then I shall be inclined to think, it must necessarily flourish under Your PATRONAGE: which will therefore more strictly engage,  
SIR, Your Faithfully Devoted Servant, R. W.   

AN ADMONITION To the READER.  
IN a certain Dialogue of Plato's, which is called Phoedo, there is mention made amongst others of one CEBES, who is supposed the Author of this Excellent TABLET, by Caselius; who hath put Notes upon it. But Wolfius, who had made a little Comment upon it, long before Caselius, seems to question it. Yet Diogenes Laertius, in his Lives of the Philosophers, and Chalcidius do peremptorily assert, that CEBES was the Author. Tertullian, Julius Pollux, Suidas, and Lucian, with many other Renowned Writers unanimously agree in the same; that there was one CEBES, a Philosopher, who lived Four Hundred and Sixty Years before the Birth of our Blessed Lord and Saviour: that He was Born at Thebes in Boeotia, and was the Disciple of Socrates; and, according to the Testimony of Laertius, He wrote Three Dialogues; too whereof are lost, only This remaining.  
But now, it is no great matter, who is the Author, since the TABLET is very Elegant, and generally approved of by the most Eminent Writers. But here, I desire to insert one Caution, which shall be this. Let none, before they look into it, seem to slight or contemn it, by reason of its smallness; for the Excellent Doctrine, that is in it, will easily compensate, and make a sufficient Apology, for its deficiency in that respect. And mere Reason, and daily Experience, have long since Taught us this Lesson, That a little Gold is of more value than much Lead; and that there is more Excellency in a small Diamond, or Ruby, than in some Quarries of Freestone. That it is Quality, not Quantity, that for the most part sets price and esteem upon things. And if so, as we all are ready to acknowledge; I may most safely infer, that this Book, tho' small in Bulk, yet is great in Worth: and I am very confident, you may find richer Furniture in this little Room, than in more capacious Edifices.  
Accept it then, as the Product of my Tender Years, and the pleasing Entertainment of a few spare Hours: and (if you dare take my word) most assuredly great will be the Profit, and Pleasure, which will accrue to thee, from thy diligent and frequent perusal of it. For here thou hast a fair Prospect and View of the Life of Man, even from the Cradle to the Grave. In these few sheets thou mayst plainly perceive, with what Joys, and Trophies, a Religious Man is Crowned; and on the contrary, with what scorn and derision, infamy and punishment, a Foolish, and Wicked Man is most deservedly treated.  
Wouldst thou then hear the true Encomium of this TABLET in one word? It will at once delight thy Mind, excite thy Thoughts, conduct thee into the Right Way, by True Instruction; and at length, after thou hast continued there some space of Time, it will Crown thee with Everlasting Life and Prosperity.  
Read it then attentively, Meditate on it seriously, and Fellow the good Advice contained in it industriously. Farewell.   

THE TABLET OF CEBES THE THEBAN PHILOSOPHER.  
AS we were walking in the Temple of Saturn, and looking upon the divers Gifts of many Devout Persons; amongst the rest we happened upon a large Painted Table which was hung in the Porch of the Temple, containing very many strange and uncouth resemblances, the meaning of which we could not possibly conjecture: For the Picture represented neither the form of a City nor Camp, but it consisted of three Enclosures (as it were) one a pretty large one, and within that Two other; a greater and a lesser. In the biggest Enclosure of all, there was a Gate, about which stood a great number of People, and within we saw many Women. In the first entrance stood a grave old Man, who seemed to speak, and to give some directions to the Persons, as they went in. We had much discourse amongst ourselves, what should be the meaning of this Pourtraicture, but none could conceive, what it really intended. At last, as we were in this doubt, an Ancient Man, that stood by, stepped up and told us, Strangers (quoth He) it is no wonder, if this Picture trouble you to understand the true signification of it; for there are but few of our own Citizens, that can give the true Interpretation, as the first Donor designed. For it was none of this City that gave it, but a Stranger, a Worthy Man, and a true follower of Pythagoras and Parmenides, both in Life and Doctrine; who coming to this City Dedicated both the Temple and the Table unto the service of the GOD SATURN. Did ye know the Man, pray Sir, quoth I? Yes, very well, saith He, and was an Auditor of his admired Doctrine a long time, even when I was but a Youth. He discoursed exceeding well, and I have often heard him Expound the Mysteries of this Table.  Strang. 
Sir, we beseech you, if your Business be not very urgent, be pleased to Expound the meaning of it to us, for in truth, we have an ardent desire to know.  Expositor. 
Truly, Friends, I have leisure enough, and shall be very willing to serve you; but you must take one caveat along with you, more than you are ware of, and that is this: That the Exposition is but dangerous.  Strang. 
Why, Sir?  Expos. 
I'll tell you; if you give good attention unto the Discourse, that you shall hear, and understand what will be suggested to you, it will make you both wise and happy; if not, it will make you ignorant, heedless, and most miserable. For this Explanation much resembleth the Riddle of Sphinx a Fair Sorcererss, that used to delude Passengers with Enigmatical Questions; He that could apprehend them, passed by safe, but he that did not, was sure to pay for his ignorance with his Life. Just so it is here. For Ignorance is a Sphinx unto Man. And this obscure Picture containeth a description of all the Good and Evil, that attendeth the Life of Man, and of that, which is neither Good nor Evil. Now if a Man understands not this aright, it will not dispatch him at once; as the rapacious Sphinx did those that fell into her claws; but it will infect his whole Life with a continual remorse, and such a torment, as those seek, who being condemned to die, do every moment expect the hand of the Executioner. But contrariwise, if any one clearly apprehends it, ignorance is quite undone, and the Man is safe and completely happy. Mark my words well therefore, and let them not go in at one Ear, and out at another.  Strang. 
Good God, what a vehement desire have you inflamed us with to hear this Table Expounded, if all be thus!  Exp. 
Yes infallibly, 'tis thus.  Strang. 
Proceed then, Sir, we beseech you, as quick as you please; for we'll be no negligent Hearers in a matter of so great importance.  
Now the Old Man up with his Staff, and pointing to the Picture, see you this Enclosure? saith Herald  Strang. 
Yes, very well.  Expos. 
Then mind me. This is called LIFE, and the great multitude, you see flock about the Gate, are such as are to enter in. And that old Father, which you see with a Paper in one hand, and seeming to point out something therein with the other, is called LIFE'S GENIUS. He instructeth those, that enter, what method to observe in the course of their Life, and informeth them, what they must follow, upon peril of their utter destruction.  Strang. 
I Pray you, what kind of Life doth he Teach them to follow? or how would he have them begin?  Expos. 
See you not a Throne hard by the Gate, as the People go in, and a Woman sitting thereon, with a Vizor on her Face, and a Cup in her hand?  Strang. 
Yes, that I do; what is she?  Expos. 
It is IMPOSTURE, that seduceth all the World.  Strang. 
What doth she?  Expos. 
She reacheth forth to drink of her own brewing unto all men that enter into Life.  Strang. 
What drink is it?  Expos. 
It is ERROR and IGNORANCE.  Strang. 
How then?  Expos. 
Why when they have tasted of this Cup, then enter they the course of Life.  Strang. 
But tell us, Sir, do all than drink of ERROR?  Expos. 
All of a certain; but some more and some less. But Prithee, look yonder, see you not an whole Tribe of Women, dressed like Courtesans, there within the Gate?  Strang. 
Yes Sir.  Expos. 
Why, some of those are called OPINIONS, some DESIRES, and others PLEASURES, and as soon as any come in at the Gate, these presently (Forsooth) run dancing to them, fall to courting them, and so lead them, whither they list.  Strang. 
Whither do they lead them?  Expos. 
Some to Security, and some to Ruin, as they had drank more or less of IMPOSTURE'S Beverage.  Strang. 
Oh! Worthy Sir, how dangerous a drink have you told us of?  Expos. 
But observe further, when they first come unto men, than (marry) they make them great Promises of all dainties and delights; of perpetual Safety and perfect Happiness. Now the Guests being well drunk with the ERROR and IGNORANCE, that IMPOSTURE presented them with, cannot for their hearts find the right way to that good course of Life, but go wand'ring about they know not whither, as you see them Painted in the Picture itself. And you now see them that were entered just before, go round about, as these Women direct them?  Strang. 
We do so, but what Woman is that, that stands upon that round Stone, seeming as if she were blind and mad by her carriage and gesture?  Expos. 
That same is the Lady, which you hear so much talk of, MADAM FORTUNE; she is indeed not only blind but mad and deaf too.  Strang. 
What doth she there then? (I wonder.)  Expos. 
She rambles about, taking from one, and giving to another, and by and by taketh that away, which she gave but even now, and makes a Present of it to a third, without all reason or constancy: And therefore this Representation sets her forth to the Life.  Strang. 
Which is that?  Expos. 
Her standing upon that round Stone.  Strang. 
What is the meaning of that?  Expos. 
That her Gifts are never certain, nor secure; for he that buildeth his Trust upon them, shall be sure one day to pay dear enough, for his Faith and Confidence.  Strang. 
What means that great multitude which stands about her? What do they beg, and under what Name do they go, we Pray you?  Expos. 
Why, every one of them begs those things, which Fortune casts from her, and (to deal ingenuously and plainly with you) they are called Fools for their Pains.  Strang. 
How chanceth it, that some of them weep, and some laugh? Why do they not all keep the same countenance?  Expos. 
You must understand, they that laugh and rejoice, are FORTUNE'S Favourites, and Salute her by the Title of Prosperous. But they that wring their hands and lament, are such as she has turned her back upon, having deprived them of that, which she had given them before, and they call her ADVERSE FORTUNE.  Strang. 
What are her mighty Gifts then, that they should make the Losers lament and the Receivers rejoice at such a rate?  Expos. 
Her Gifts, I'll assure you, are reputed goods.  Strang. 
Pray tell us what they are.  Expos. 
In short, they are RICHES, NOBILITY, CHILDREN, GLORY, SOVEREIGNTY, EMPIRE, and the like.  Strang. 
And, Pray Sir, do you not hold these for goods?  Expos. 
Of that hereafter, let us now make an end of the Table's Exposition.  Strang. 
With all our heart, Sir.  Expos. 
You see now, that past that Gate, there is another Enclosure, lying higher up, and certain Women dressed after the same sort, standing at the door.  Strang. 
We see.  Expos. 
Well, one of these is called INCONTINENCY, another LUXURY, another AVARICE, another FLATTERY.  Strang. 
And upon what account do they stand there?  Expos. 
They watch, when FORTUNE bestoweth any thing upon any Man.  Strang. 
How then?  Expos. 
Then they rejoice and embrace him, and flatter him, and entreat him to stay with them, promising him a Life replenished with all the delight and pleasures imaginable, without any allay of pain, grief or sorrow. If any one do but like this, he is tickled (in an instant) with vain delight, that he imagineth an Heaven upon Earth; when in the main it is quite otherwise. For when he is come to his right understanding, than he will immediately perceive, that he hath not eaten at their charges, but that they have devoured up him, and when they had so done, dismissed him with scorn and derision. And now all FORTUNE'S donatives proving just nothing at the end, he must turn a new course, and let himself drudge to those drabs, suffer all their imperious injuries, and undergo all servile offices, for their pleasures, as (for instance) Cozenage, Sacrilege, Treachery, Thievery, and all the rest of that forlorn and ungrateful Company; and when all those wicked Trades fail, then is he turned over into the hands of PUNISHMENT.  Strang. 
PUNISHMENT, which is she?  Expos. 
Do you not perceive a little grate in the Picture, behind those Women, and within that a dark Dungeon, as it were?  Strang. 
Yes.  Expos. 
And a great many Women all in tattered rags and forlorn shapes?  Strang. 
We see them also.  Expos. 
Why, that same that holdeth the Scourge, is called PUNISHMENT. She that leaneth her head upon her knee is SORROW; she that teareth her hair DISTRACTION.  Strang. 
There stands a Man also behind them, all deformed, meager, and naked, and a Woman with him, his very Picture (methinks) who be they?  Expos. 
The Man's Name is ANGUISH and the Woman's is DESPERATION; unto these is the Ruined Man passed over and confined to live in doleful extremity. From thence they drive him farther into the Goal of infelicity, and there he shall be ever imprisoned, unless released by REPENTANCE.  Strang. 
Why, what can REPENTANCE do in such a Case?  Expos. 
Marry, she can deliver him out of this Pit of destruction and bring him acquainted with another OPINION, and DESIRE, who will either conduct him safe unto true INSTRUCTION, or else unto that falsely so called.  Strang. 
How then?  Expos. 
If he embrace that OPINION, that giveth him directions in the way of true INSTRUCTION, he shall thereby be Purified and Reformed, and pass the rest of his Life in the fullness of Perfection, above the reach of all future calamities: otherwise if he do not so, FALSE INSTRUCTION will subvert him with a new deceit.  Strang. 
O GOD! How dreadful is this last danger you have acquainted us with; but what kind of Creature is this FALSE INSTRUCTION you speak of?  Expos. 
Behold yonder other Enclosure.  Strang. 
So we do, Sir.  Expos. 
At the Gate sits a Woman in neat and decent Apparel: the vulgar and foolish sort of People call her INSTRUCTION, but falsely. Now they that mean to pass unto TRUE INSTRUCTION, do all first come unto this Woman.  Strang. 
Why, is there no other way but this to carry us to TRUE INSTRUCTION?  Expos. 
Yes, there is.  Strang. 
Who are they, that walk about within that Enclosure?  Expos. 
They are the followers of FALSE INSTRUCTION, imagining in themselves (but altogether erroneously) that they enjoy the Company of TRUE INSTRUCTION.  Strang. 
And what are their Professions?  Expos. 
Some of them profess Poetry, some Oratory, some Logic, some Music, some Rhetoric, some Arithmetic, some Critic, Geometry, Astrology, Philosophy, and all other Professions have their Followers within this Ring, nay here are professed Voluptuaries also.  Strang. 
But who are those Women, that gad about like the former, amongst whom you reckoned INCONTINENCY, and their Fellows?  Expos. 
These are they.  Strang. 
But do they come hither also?  Expos. 
That they do, but seldom; and not as in the first Enclosure.  Strang. 
And do the OPINIONS come thus far also?  Expos. 
Yes verily do they. For the draught that IMPOSTURE giveth them at the first, is not yet out of their heads; they do as yet smell of the dregs of ERROR and IGNORANCE. Nor shall they ever be quit of their Opinions, or other Vices, which they imbibed, till they bid adieu to FALSE INSTRUCTION, and betake themselves to a new course, and taking a Potion, by Name ERROUR'S Purgation, thereby Vomit up all the Evils, that offended their minds, as their OPINIONS, their IGNORANCE, and all their other Exorbitances; for so shall their Consciences be absolutely cured. But as long as they keep Company with FALSE INSTRUCTION, they shall never be sound, nor shall their Learning help them away with one inconvenience.  Strang. 
Which is the way then, that leadeth unto TRUE INSTRUCTION?  Expos. 
Why, look you here, see you this high place, as desert and uninhabited?  Strang. 
Well Sir, how then?  Expos. 
Then you see that little Gate, and the way there before that Gate, which seems to be but little trodden, lying in such a deep descent of that craggy rock?  Strang. 
That we see also.  Expos. 
And that Hill too, that is compassed on both sides with inaccessible Cliffs, having only one narrow Path, whereby to ascend it?  Strang. 
Yes, Sir.  Expos. 
That very Path is all the way we have to TRUE INSTRUCTION.  Strang. 
But truly, Sir, it seems to us almost impossible to get up to the top of it.  Expos. 
See that steep Rock by that other Hill.  Strang. 
We see it.  Expos. 
Don't you perceive two lusty and comely Viragoes, standing thereupon, and reaching forth their hands, as it were, to invite one?  Strang. 
We perceive them well, but what are their Names?  Expos. 
One of them is called CONTINENCY and the other TOLERANCE, and they are Sisters.  Strang. 
Why do they reach forth their hands?  Expos. 
They encourage the Travellers, that pass by that way, to be of good cheer, and to despise DESPERATION, the Daughter of Sloth; assuring them, that after a little toil, the remainder of their Life shall be crowned with blessed Tranquillity; and that if they will climb but a little, all the way will be more easy and passable.  Strang. 
But when they are got as far as the Rock, what course must they take to get up? We see no means they can use to mount so steep a Cliff.  Expos. 
You say right; but the two Sisters do come down themselves from the top, and lending them their helping hands, pull them up by degrees: after they have drawn them up a little way, they let them rest a while, and then they fetch FORTITUDE and CONFIDENCE unto them, and pass their words to bring them to the Presence of TRUE INSTRUCTION, showing them how plain and pleasant the Path is, now, that they have conquered the first and greatest difficulty; and how pure and clea● it is from crags and encumbrances, as you see there in the Table.  Strang. 
One would think so in good earnest.  Expos. 
See you not that wood, and before it, as it were a curious piece of Land or Mead all full of light and delight?  Strang. 
It is so.  Expos. 
There is another Enclosure in the midst of that with a Gate into it. See you that?  Strang. 
Yes; but how call you that Enclosure?  Expos. 
It is called, I promise you, the Seat and Habitation of the Blessed; for there dwell all the VIRTUES and BEATITUDE herself.  Strang. 
To the Eye it seems an Heavenly Place.  Expos. 
You see that goodly Gentlewoman, that stands by the Gate, with a fixed Eye, of a middle and just Age, in a plain and ordinary Habit, and standing upon a Stone, not round, but exactly square; if you observe there stand two other Women just by her, that seem to be her Daughters.  Strang. 
So they do.  Expos. 
She, that stands in the middle, goes under the Name of INSTRUCTION, she on the right hand, TRUTH, and she on the left, PERSUASION.  Strang. 
But pray resolve us, why INSTRUCTION stands upon a square Stone.  Exp. 
To show, that the Path, which leadeth unto her, is fair and square, as we say, and firm; & that her Gifts do bless the Receiver with Fruits of Security.  Strang. 
What are her Gifts?  Expos. 
Why, COURAGE, SECURITY, and ACQUITTANCE from troubles.  Strang. 
And what Benefit by these?  Expos. 
By these Man perceiveth, that his Life is now to continue void of all perturbation.  Strang. 
O Rich! O Glorious! O Blessed Gifts! But why doth she stand without the Enclosure?  Expos. 
To cure the Travellers, and give them their cleansing Draught, before they enter, and then when they are thoroughly cleansed to introduce them unto these VIRTUES.  Strang. 
How can this be, dear Sir! In truth, we don't understand you.  Expos. 
You shall tho'. It is in this case, as it is in a sick and diseased person's, who hath presently recourse to an Eminent Physician. Now to make a Cure the Physician first of all purges away the Causes, and Nutriment of the Malady, and then plys him with some strengthening Cordials, and finally (through GOD) makes him safe and sound. But suppose the person had neglected the Doctor's advice, the disease would quickly have rooted in his Body, and when once it had gotten the upperhand, might have killed him; and whom might he thank then but himself?  Strang. 
I marry, Sir, this is intelligible indeed.  Expos. 
Well, in this manner do Men approach the Station of INSTRUCTION, which as soon as they arrive at, she presently taketh them in hand, prescribes them a Medicine of her own making, that so they may purge out all their ingulphed Evils, and cast them forth as by Vomit or Ejection.  Strang. 
What are the Evils, they cast up?  Expos. 
ERROR and IGNORANCE, both of which they drank from the Cup of IMPOSTURE; ARROGANCE also, AVARICE, LUST, INTEMPERANCE, WRATH, and all the Poisons, which they swallowed down, while they were in the first Enclosure.  Strang. 
But when they are well purged, whither sends she them?  Expos. 
She admits them in unto KNOWLEDGE and the other VIRTUES.  Strang. 
Which are they?  Expos. 
Why, see you not a company of comely and modest Ladies there within the Gate, amongst whom there is not one, that seemeth painted or extravagantly dressed, as others were all before?  Strang. 
We see them; how call you them?  Expos. 
The foremost of them KNOWLEDGE, the rest are her Sisters, and they are called FORTITUDE, JUSTICE, INTEGRITY of Life, MODESTY, LIBERALITY, CONTINENCY, and CLEMENCY.  Strang. 
Oh! goodly consort! how great expectation have you raised in us!  Expos. 
Complete will your hopes be, if you rightly apprehend this Relation, and seriously apply it to your course of Life in this vain and wicked World.  Strang. 
Truly, Sir, there shall be nothing wanting on our side.  Expos. 
Well, make your words good, do but as you say, and (believe me) Peace and Tranquillity shall crown your Victory.  Strang. 
But (if we may be so bold) whither do these VIRTUES lead a Man, when once they have received him?  Expos. 
Unto their Mother.  Strang. 
What do they call her?  Expos. 
BEATITUDE.  Strang. 
What is she?  Expos. 
See you not a way, that ascendeth that height there, whereupon the Tower of the three Enclosures is founded? Behold there a fair and flourishing Matron, enthroned in State, sat at the Porch of the said Tower, in decent Apparel, and without any thing of Vanity or affectation, and most delicately crowned with a flowery Chaplet?  Strang. 
You say right? Sir; what is she?  Expos. 
The very Person, that is called BEATITUDE.  Strang. 
And when one cometh at her, what doth she?  Expos. 
She crowneth him with her own Essence, and so do all the other Virtues, as they crown those, that come off Conquerors in 
* This Dialogue alludes very much to the Olympic Games in various places.  the Olympic Games.  Strang. 
What conflicts hath he been engaged in?  Expos. 
In many sore ones, and hath conquered many a Savage Beast, that before even dedevoured him, and tormented him, and made him a mere Slave: All these he has conquered and beat off, and has even overcome himself, being now rendered his own Man again; so that now they serve him, as he was made to serve them before.  Strang. 
What Beasts are they you speak of, Sir? we have an earnest desire to know.  Expos. 
Why, Sirs, first I speak of IGNORANCE and ERROR, are not they Beasts?  Strang. 
Yes, and cruel ones too, we think.  Expos. 
Then I speak of ANGUISH, SORROW, AVARICE, INTEMPERANCE, and all other kind of Vices; all these hath he subjugated, and hath now at his command, whereas before he was at theirs.  Strang. 
O most Triumphant Victory, and worthy to be Eternally kept in mind! but tell us this, Sir, we beseech you, what mighty Power is there in the Crown, she giveth him?  Expos. 
A mighty Strength and Power (young Men) there is in that Crown. He, who is crowned with it, shall be really happy, and exalted above all misery; nor shall his happiness depend upon others, but be fully Established in himself.  Strang. 
O what a brave Victory is there! But what doth he that is honoured with this Crown? Whither doth he march then?  Expos. 
Then do the VIRTUES conduct him back the same way that he came, and show him those, that are below, how miserable and deplorable their condition is, and what a shipwreck they make of their Life following no exact course, but are enslaved to their foes, some to ARROGANCE, some to AVARICE, some to AMBITION and VAINGLORY, some to one kind of Ruin and some to another; from which Bonds, wherein they are enslaved, they can by no means extricate themselves, so as to be saved and arrive unto this place: but are confounded and troubled all their Life long: And this they suffer, because they cannot find the way hither, for they forgot the Instructions of the GENIUS.  Strang. 
You seem to say well, Sir, but here again we are at a loss; why should the VIRTUES bring him to the place and danger, that he hath already escaped?  Expos. 
I'll tell you; when he made his first escape, he did not conceive half the matter, nor did he apprehend the actions, that were done there, scarce any thing at all; but was altogether pestered with slavish doubts and fears, because of the drink of ERROR and IGNORANCE, which he had tasted, which made him look upon that for good, which in the main had nothing of goodness in it, and on evil after the same fashion; whereby he was thrust into a depraved Estate, as well as the rest that tarry there. But now having attained the knowledge of things convenient and conducible to him, he both contemplates the misery of others, and enjoys true felicity himself.  Strang. 
But when he hath observed and considered the infelicity of these Men, what doth he then, or whither doth he go?  Expos. 
Verily, even what he lists, and whither he pleases. For he is as safe and secure, as if he were sheltered in the Corycian Cave, or in the Muse's lap; and let him live, where he will, he shall pass his time in Peace and Piety, and free from all manner of trouble and vexation. All Men shall be as fond of his company and conversation, as the Patient is of the Physician's.  Strang. 
Why, but shall he never more be afraid of those Women, you lately termed Beasts? Shall they have no more power to hurt him?  Expos. 
No, not to touch or come nigh him. He shall bid defiance to SORROW, TROUBLE, INCONTINENCE, AVARICE, NEED, and all other the worst of Enemies; he shall curb and keep them under now, at his pleasure, who before molested him; like 
* This Passage was before mistake by Interpreters, 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, a People like the Marsians.  the Marsians, who familiarly converse with Vipers. For those Creatures, who are fatal to all others, do these no harm; because they bear in themselves a present Remedy; so likewise shall no evil approach this happy Man, because in himself he hath a quick Preservative against all their infections.  Strang. 
Very well, but pray, Sir, be pleased to give us your thoughts concerning yonder place; for we see a vast number of People coming down the Hill, as it were, some with Crowns on their heads, seeming to rejoice and leap for joy, and others bareheaded looking like Men in extreme Despair, with their heads and legs all bruised; & several Women seem to detain them, what are these?  Exp. 
They, that wear Crowns, are newly created the Children of INSTRUCTION, and rejoice at their Adoption; those, that are without Crowns, are some of them rejected by her, and so fallen into a desperate condition; others made weak through sloth, when they had gotten up as far as TOLERANCE, went back again, and so run a wand'ring they knew not whither.  Strang. 
But who are the Women that follow them?  Expos. 
There's SORROW, TROUBLE, DESPERATION, IGNOMINY and IGNORANCE.  Strang. 
Why then (be like) all the evils imaginable follow them at their heels?  Expos. 
So they do, and when they return into the first Enclosure, unto LUXURY and INCONTINENCE, they never blame themselves, but fall a cursing INSTRUCTION, and all that are in the way to her, as wretches and miserable fools, that leave the Path, which these now tread in, and the Pleasure of the first Enclosure, to go seek and haunt out a course of such unhappiness; denying to stay and share with them in their delightful goods.  Strang. 
And what are their goods?  Expos. 
Shall I tell you in a word? they are PRODIGALITY, and INTEMPERANCE. For just like Beasts they are all for the Belly, and conclude that then they are entirely happy, when that is full.  Strang. 
But what call you the other Women, that come down there laughing and singing?  Expos. 
They are OPINIONS; they carry Men up unto INSTRUCTION, and when they have done, come back and tell the rest, how welcome those were, whom they presented, and how they are now in a blessed Estate.  Strang. 
Why, but do these OPINIONS go in unto the VIRTUES?  Expos. 
No, by no means; 'tis never allowed for OPINION to come within view of KNOWLEDGE. They only convey the Men to INSTRUCTION, whom as soon as e'er she hath accepted of, they go their ways to fetch more and more, like as Ships that having unladen their Freight, set out presently for a new Voyage, taking in other Commodities.  Strang. 
In truth, Sir, your Comparison is very witty and ingenious; but you have not told us yet, what it is, that LIFE'S GENIUS saith unto those that are to enter this course of Life?  Expos. 
He biddeth them be of good cheer; and I pray, be you of good cheer likewise; for I will not keep a Letter of the Exposition from you.  Strang. 
We thank you hearty, Sir, said we all.  
Then He reaching forth his Staff again, pointed up, saying, see you that blind Woman upon the round Stone there, who is called FORTUNE, as I told you before?  Strang. 
Yes.  Expos. 
The GENIUS bid● them never to give heed unto her, never to imagine any solidity in her Bounties, never to think her Gifts their proper Goods: for even when she list, she will take them from one, and bestow them upon another maugre all Contradiction; it is her common Practice. And for this Reason he forewarns them not to be delighted with her Beneficence, nor dejected at her inconstancy and frowardness, never to be vanquished by her fickle pleasant smiles or morose frownings; in a word, neither to curse nor applaud her, seeing that all her do are without discretion, and she hurleth all about at six and seven, as I hinted to you just now. Therefore doth this GENIUS bid them never to wonder at her odd Vagaries, nor to be concerned at any thing, she does, or be like foolish Bankers. For they, when they receive any Money of Men, are jocund, as if 'twas their own. But when they are asked to refund, they are vexed, as if you did 'em an injury; never remembering, that they at first received the sums, on this very condition, that he that lent them might at his pleasure recall them in. Thus our GENIUS commands us to behave ourselves, as to what she lends us; and to remember that this is the natural disposition of FORTUNE; to give and take, to give one at first a pretty deal, and then presently to require all back again. He bids us upon this account receive her Gifts with indifferency, and when we have them, to make haste to that firm and stable kind of Bounty.  Strang. 
Which is that?  Exp. 
That which INSTRUCTION giveth to those that come safe to her Tower to ask it.  Strang. 
And what doth she give?  Expos. 
She giveth the true knowledge of profitable things, a Gift of immutable goodness and security. To her therefore he wishes them all to quicken their pace, and when they come to LUXURY and INCONTINENCE, the two Women aforenamed, to pass by them speedily, and to stop their Ears unto their enveigling persuasions, and so to hasten on, till they come to FALSE INSTRUCTION. There he adviseth them to make a little stay, and take what they like of her as their Viaticum for the rest of their Journey, and then to scour away with all speed unto the Palace of TRUE INSTRUCTION. This is the charge, that LIFE'S GENIUS layeth upon all, that are just making entrance into the first Enclosure. He, that either refuseth it, or misapplyeth it, comes home by Unhappiness and Ruin. This (my good Friends) is the whole Exposition of this Table; if you want any farther satisfaction in any particular, let me know, and I shall be ready to resolve you.  Strang. 
A Thousand thanks to you, Sir, for what you have already made easy to us: and you will lay an infinite obligation upon us, if you will be pleased to inform us, what it is that the GENIUS wisheth them to take at the station of FALSE INSTRUCTION.  Expos. 
Such things, as will be requisite and beneficial.  Strang. 
And what are those?  Expos. 
Letters, Languages, and Discipline, which Plato calls the Bridle of Youth, curbing them in, and keeping them out of worse Exercise and Employments.  Strang. 
Must he, that will hasten to TRUE INSTRUCTION, needs take these here, or may he let them alone at his pleasure?  Expos. 
He need not, unless he will, there is no compulsion in the case. They are convenient, but not of any necessity to Virtue.  Strang. 
No? Are they not necessary for the bettering of our Understandings?  Expos. 
Yes; but however our Goodness may increase without them; yet are they not altogether useless. For as on occasion we may understand what is said by an Interpreter; tho' it would not be amiss, if we understood the very Language ourselves, however otherwise we do apprehend the matter: even so without these sorts of Learning, nothing hinders, but we may attain unto Virtue.  Strang. 
I, but doth not the understanding of these Arts and Sciences qualify and enable Men to have goodness better infused into them, than others, that have not these Disciplines?  Expos. 
No; how should that be, when they have as bad a Notion of the True Nature of Good and Evil, and are as black with the pitchy touch of viciousness, as others? It is an easy thing, for one to be a pretty good Scholar, and Master of all the Arts, and for all that be a Sot; to be Lewd, Stingy, Injurious, Perfidious, and in short, as mere an Idiot, as he that never knew what belonged to a School. Of such there are numerous Instances and Examples; we need not go far to fetch them: and now than what Prerogative so great hath Learning in the Reformation of Men's Extravagancies?  Strang. 
Why, none methinks, if things go thus. But why then are Scholars in the second Enclosure, as nearer neighbours to TRUE INSTRUCTION than the rest?  Expos. 
Alas! what good do they get by that? When we may often behold many, that pass out of the first Enclosure from INCONTINENCE, and the other train of Vices, unto TRUE INSTRUCTION, without once resting amongst these great Scholars. What Man then can avouch their Estate better because of the place? They are either more dull, or (at least) more idle, than others.  Strang. 
Why, said we, how comes that to pass?  Expos. 
Because, tho' those of the second Enclosure were clear from all faults else, yet this alone would stick by them for ever, to profess they know what they do not: which indeed is a great obstacle and impediment to them in the acquiring of TRUE INSTRUCTION. Again, do you not see, how the OPINIONS come thick and threefold out of the first Enclosure unto them? These are the causes, why their condition is not a rush better than the others, unless REPENTANCE and they fall once acquainted, and they be verily persuaded, that they dwell not with TRUE INSTRUCTION, but with her Counterfeit, which leads them into ERROR, and obstructeth all the means of their Reformation, and Passage to SECURITY. Wherefore, my Friends, unless you take this course, and often meditate on my words, and always keep in mind some of these Admonitions, I leave with you, all that I have said will be in vain, and you'll not be a Farthing the better for the Exposition of this Table.  Strang. 
Upon our Faith and honest Word, we'll do our very best; but Pray, Sir, do us the favour, as to resolve us this Question; why are not the Gifts, that FORTUNE bestoweth upon Men, worthy to be accounted Goods? As Life, Health, Riches, Honours, Children, Success, and such other her Bounties? And why are not their contraries Evils? This Assertion seems strange, and almost incredible unto us.  Expos. 
Well, be sure then, that you answer directly unto what I shall Propound.  Strang. 
We will, Sir.  Expos. 
What think you? Whether is it good for him, that is an Evil Liver, to Live, or not?  Strang. 
It is not good for him, in our opinion, to Live, but rather bad.  Expos. 
How then can Life be a Good, if it be Bad for him?  Strang. 
Because, as to a Bad Man Life is Bad, so to a Good Man Life is Good.  Expos. 
So, than I find, you suppose Life to be both good and bad.  Strang. 
So in good earnest we do.  Expos. 
O! mark, what you say; for, that one thing should be both good and bad, implies a flat contradiction. For then at that rate, it would be both profitable and hurtful; and likewise always to be loved and desired, and hated and avoided at the same time.  Strang. 
This is something absurd, we must confess. But if he that liveth badly, have a badness by living so; how can Life but be bad unto that Man?  Expos. 
I, but remember, that it is one thing to live, and another to live badly.  Strang. 
That is true.  Expos. 
So that LIFE is not bad in itself. For were it so, it would be so to the best liver as well as to the worst: for all would be possessed of a LIFE, that would be badness in its very self; and then Bad would be the Best.  Strang. 
Right in truth.  Expos. 
Well then LIFE being communicated both to the good Liver and to the bad; to Live of itself is neither good nor bad, no more than cutting or burning is; both which are good in some Diseases, but prejudicial to all found Constitutions. Just so is this Life. And therefore put the case to yourselves, whether had you rather live badly, or die honourably?  Strang. 
I'd make choice of the latter.  Expos. 
So then Death in itself is no bad thing belike, for it is oftentimes to be preferred before Life.  Strang. 
Right again.  Expos. 
Well then Health and Sickness have one and the same respect. For occasion may so happen, that the sick Man may not recover.  Strang. 
Not unlikely.  Expos. 
Weigh Riches then in the same Balance; recollect that, which we often see. A Man hath plenty of Riches, and puts them to no good use, but lives a Miser. Not a few of this sort.  Strang. 
In troth, too many.  Expos. 
So then his Riches don't augment his happiness any way.  Strang. 
Not, in our Judgement, by reason of his own badness.  Expos. 
Therefore you see, 'tis not Riches, but good Instruction, that makes a Man both Good and Happy.  Strang. 
Surely so it seems.  Expos. 
How then can Riches be good, when they have no Power to better those, that enjoy them?  Strang. 
They cannot be indeed.  Expos. 
Well, than it is highly expedient, that some should not be rich at all, because they know not how to make a good use of Riches.  Strang. 
In that we agree.  Expos. 
How then can that be any way conducive to goodness, which oftentimes must be kept from the use of divers Persons? So that he, that can use wealth, as wealth should be used, may live well; and he that cannot, very ill.  Strang. 
All you say is exceeding true, Sir.  Expos. 
In fine, it is the esteem for those, as goods, or the contempt of them, as evils, that molest and disturb the thoughts of Man; when they that are vile Earth and MORTALITY, prise them as things of such excellent worth, and think, that their whole happiness merely depends on them. This maketh them to undergo all actions, even of how black a die soever. And these things happen unto all such, as admire outward appearances, and can in no wise attain to the true knowledge of good; they are so blinded and overwhelmed with IGNORANCE; neither have they learned, that it is impossible for good to be brought out of evil; and you may see very many, who have heaped up Riches by evil means, and filthy deeds, such as Treachery, Spoils, Manslaughters, Calumnies, Rapines, and other sad and outrageous Vices.  Strang. 
There is nothing to be objected against what you say, Worthy Sir.  Exp. 
Well, observe but this, and I shall dismiss you presently. If so be no good can proceed from that which is evil, (as not unlikely) and Riches may be gotten by vicious courses; it follows consequently, that Riches cannot be accounted good.  Strang. 
It is evidently manifest from what you say.  Expos. 
Again, Wisdom and Piety can never have their rise from evil actions, neither on the contrary, can Vice or Folly proceed from good actions; for these are in their very nature contraries; and so can never be consistent one with the other. But now Riches, and Honour, and Victory, and such like may possibly be gotten by evil means, and nothing hinder. Wherefore let us determine them neither good nor bad of themselves; for of a certain, Wisdom is the only good, and Folly the only evil.  Strang. 
Now, Sir, we return you our hearty thanks for all your favours; and we will trouble you no longer: for what you have already acquainted us with gives us great satisfaction.  
The End of CEBES his TABLET.   

An Excellent TREATISE Concerning PEACE OF CONSCIENCE,  
Written by HIPPARCHUS, A Pythagorean Philosopher.  
And Translated into English By ROBERT WARREN, Student of CHRIST'S College in CAMBRIDGE.  
Conscia mens ut cuique sua est, ita concipit intra Pectora pro Facto spemque metumque suo.  Ovid. Lib. Fastorum. 111.  

A TREATISE OF Peace of Conscience.  
WHereas the Life of Man is very short, if compared with Eternity, Men would do very wisely, to pass it, as if in a pleasant Journey or Pilgrimage, remembering that by doing so, they would make their lives both easy and happy; and the best and only means, to attain to this Perfection, would be truly to know themselves, and to consider, that they are but vile dust and ashes; that they are created with a Body obnoxious, both to sorrow, danger, and at last to death; and are exposed to the worst of calamities, even to their last gasp of Breath.  
Now let us make a few Remarks of those Evils, which are the general attendants of this Body. As first, the Pleurisy, Consumption, the Frenzy, the Gout, the Stone, the Bloody Flux, the Lethargy, the Falling-Sickness, Putrifying Ulcers, and an infinite number of other Diseases. These are all contingent to the Body. But the Mind is infested with much worse Maladies, than any of these. For whatsoever Folly, Vice, Sin, or Impurity Men are actually guilty of, taketh its Rise from some Indisposition of the Mind: many through immoderate and unnatural Lusts, have broken out into notorious actions, and have even satisfied their brutish Appetites upon their Mothers or Daughters. How many Parents are there, that have cut their children's throats? Not to omit some Evils of a strange and different sort; as Deluges, Extremity of Drought, Heat and Cold, so that sometimes from the unseasonableness of the Air, the Plague, Famine and many dangerous Evils happen, and whole Cities are laid Desolate. Since than we are in continual dangers, and such a many Evils hang over our heads, let us not trust to the goods of the Body, which are presently destroyed by one fit of sickness; neither let us be puffed up with outward Prosperity, since that it sooner goes away than comes: for we are made sensible from the infinite variety of strange changes and alterations, which are daily wrought in the World, that there is no sure, constant, certain, or permanent Possession in this transitory Life.  
Wherefore let us always revolve in our thoughts, that those things, which we now are possessed of, will endure but for a moment; and remember, that if we bear all things patiently and courageously, we shall most assuredly acquire that Rich and Noble Blessing, Serenity and PEACE of CONSCIENCE. But now very many, who enjoy both the Gifts of Nature and Fortune, when they have supposed them very good, and have esteemed them better, than indeed they are, however they seem to be, being quickly deprived of them, are extremely cast down at their dismal and almost insupportable losses. And by this means it comes to pass, that their whole Life is perfect Labour and Sorrow to them. Now the general cause and occasion of this dejection, is either loss of Riches, or death of Children and Relations, or parting with our dearest Possessions; then they fall a howling and crying, and curse the day of their Birth, and foolishly declare, that they only are the most unfortunate Wretches in the whole World. When alas! poor hearts, they do not consider, what storms of affliction Men in former times have waded through, neither have they the patience to make a few serious Reflections upon other men's Lives; and to recollect, what an infinite of losses others have had, and (which is much worse) may now live in sorrow and torment.  
Now would we but consider, and believe, what History gives us an exact Account of, how many have saved their Carcases for the bare loss of their fading Riches, when it might have been their Fortune to have light upon Tyrants or Highwaymen: and how many again, who were formerly adored and sought after by many fawning Courtiers; when once their Riches were gone, all the pretended Friendship dropped off; and proved downright hatred and contempt at the bottom. And how many have been murdered by their Children and Relations, and all these Evils, and a great deal more, purely occasioned by flitting and frothy Treasures? Now would we, I say, but compare our Lives with other Men's, who have fared much worse than ourselves, and be willing to hold all human misfortunes in common; (I warrant you) we should live much easier, and better to our content. For none indeed, who are true Men (and would gladly be thought so) ought to think other Men happy, and themselves miserable, other Men's Evils light and easy, and their own sad and intolerable; when this Life, to the very Eye, is both bitter and miserable. And now, besides all this, Men's howling and outcries will avail nothing towards the Redeeming a lost Estate, or the Recovering Life of one that is dead. They only add to their own misery, and foolishly disturb their Minds to no purpose. Wherefore we ought by all means to wash and purge away these filthy blemishes by True Philosophy. And this we may easily do, if we will be prudent and temperate, and take all in good part; that is, be thankful for what we have, and covet no more. For they, who heap up such an abundance of Riches, never consider, that they are to meet with another Life elsewhere, after this is ended: for which they make no manner of preparation; but rather bestow all their Labour and Endeavours to provide for a Life of a few moments, to their extreme hazard and shame. But because these things will be no otherwise, let us, who know better things, let us, I say, live wisely, and make much of what we have; earnestly contending for the Saving Philosophy, which will free our Minds, and take off our roving thoughts from all inordinate Love of this wicked World; and especially of those things, which are infamous and destructive to us.  
〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉.  
THE END.   

APELLES HIS TABLE Being A PICTURE of humane Life Now Rendered into English.  
Omne tulit punctum, qui miscuit utile dulci  
Lectorem delectando pariterque monendo.  Horatius de Arte Poetica,  

APELLES HIS First PICTURE.  
THere was a spacious Garden with a very pleasant Arbour in it, all as Beautiful with Walks, Flowers, Herbs, Trees, and the like, as Heart can wish, or Fancy can imagine. On the right Hand, there was a great Gate for the chief Entrance, the Way and Passage being all along extremely delectable, beset with fine tall Trees on each side, whereon were curious and wonderful Birds, Chirping, Dancing, and Carolling, as it were to invite Passengers to this their Earthly Paradise. And indeed the Way was all full of People of all sorts, Ages, and Sexes; who thronging from all parts were hasting thitherward. On the left Hand of the said Garden, was a lesser Door, or Wicket, which seemed only contrived for a Passage out of the Garden now and then; for as there was no Manner of Path to it on the one side, so there was but a very small Passage toward it on the Inside, and that in a manner unfrequented, and therefore much overgrown with Thorns, Bushes and Brambles.  
But before the first Gate on the right Hand there were goodly Tents erected, with delightful Seats and Lodgings; there were also large, and fair Tables spread, ready furnished with all sorts of viands, necessary for the Life of Man, disposed in very good order, and all Comers were freely welcome to sit down, where they Banqueted very jocundly.  
The Lady Hostess or Mistress of the place called herself Sobriety, who had her Chambermaid's waiting about her with all diligence and in exceeding good order. One was Cheerfulness, the other Modesty, the third Honesty, and the fourth Temperance. They were assisted with three Lovely Sisters, who were called the Graces. Some other Servants or Attendants there were, as Industry, Honesty, Labour, Frugality, Health, and Good-Humour, who were all of Sobriety's Household in this Place of Pleasure; where while some refreshed themselves with Eating and Drinking, others were walking or wrestling, or conferring together, or spending their time in Reading, or Writing, or Working on some easy and honest Work, or playing on Musical Instruments, while others sang sweet and chaste Songs unto them. And all this was done without any the least disorder, debate, or discontentment. In short, they had among them all kinds of Decent Pastime both to exercise and to recreate their minds and bodies, as well before, as after, this Repast, as was Judged most requisite for the maintenance and support of Health. After a sufficient Refection one part of them retired homeward very merrily and in good order having first thanked, and taken leave of their Lady Hostess, Madam Sobriety.  
But the rest, that remained, being a far greater number, not content with the good Fare and Pastime, they had received in this Place, would needs pass on farther, and entered into the Garden at the great Gate without taking the least notice of their first. Hostess Sobriety, or yielding Her any Thankful Requital.  
Here, at the Entrance of the Arbour there sat a Woman gazing about her on all sides, being very gross and fat, her Cheeks swollen and puffed up, her Lips blubberly and red, and her Face like a Platter. However she shown herself very serviceable, calling to the new Comers, making unto then courteous signs with her Head, and showing them with both her Hands the Entrance. Her Name was, it seems, Gourmondise, or Gluttony.  
In the midst of this Arbour sat another Woman, dressed like a Queen, and indeed she governed there, and was chief Lady of the Lodging, but she was drunk, having a Crown of young Vine-Sprouts on her Head, and a great Cup in both her Hands, as one that was always ready to drink, for her Name was Drunkenness. She also had her Ladies and Waiting-Maids attending on her every one with a Cup in her Hand, and one with wilder looks than the other, still looking wilder and wilder, as they stood behind the first; Whose Name was Merriment; next to her was Heedlessness, than Vanity, than Folly, than Luxury, then Revelling and Excess, and lastly Madness; all of them in Garments suitable to their Conditions.  
There were divers other Attendants, as Forgetfulness, who stood in manner of one Astonished; Slothfulness sat on the Ground with her Arms folded, her Sister Idleness and her Daughter Carelessness lying half naked and asleep by her. She herself was scarce dressed and hardly well awake; yet she held in her Hand a Cup of Wine, but so neglectfully as that she spilt much on the Ground. Hard by was Scurrility and Scoffing with Taunting their Brother, and Brabbling their Sister, who took her Kinsman Debate by the Hand, and they all sat closely together, tho' in no quiet but boisterous manner, conferring and carousing with Infamy, Rage, and Fury; who had terrible Looks and fiery Faces. In a close corner there was the Queen's Daughter Intemperance, dallying and wantoning with her own Brother Lust, her Gentlewomen Immodesty and Shamelessness standing by and looking on.  
This comely company were in a manner hedged about with a strong Guard of Bears, Bulls, Goats, great Asses, Horses, huge Mastiffs, Wolves, Swine, Hares, Bucks, Apes, Baboons, Marmosets, Monkeys, and Satyrs, and other kind of Beasts, that it seems had formerly all been Men, but after long tarrying with the Queen, and drinking too liberal Draughts of her Wine, had been metamorphosed and changed into such Creatures. But verily it was an horror to behold their Countenances; how terrible, and fiery, and to observe, what a dismal life they lead, crying and howling and roaring together with a most discordant Harmony; for by the clashing of their Teeth, the shaking of their Chains, and the gaping of their Throats, their Picture seemed to affect the Ear as well as the Eye.  
On one side you might see some of these Beasts discharging their Stomaches of Wine, which those, that were turned into Dogs, immediately licked up again. The Swine wallowed in filthy Puddles and mire, vomiting up horrible Serpents and Lizzards. The Bulls and Kine cast up Frogs and Flies; the Bucks Pearls, the Ass' Books, the Bear's Swords and Hangers; the Wolves Cats, Mice, and Rats; But the Apes, Marmosets, and Satyrs skipped and frisked and danced about very pleasantly. On the contrary the Bears and Wolves bit and fought very cruelly, one against the other; so that a great deal of Fur was scattered on the Ground, and here an Ear, and there a piece of a Tail, and Teeth, and Horns; and Blood ran all about.  
On the left Hand, towards the little Wicket, which we observed to be a place in a manner unfrequented; there lay at a good distance the Bodies of Beasts stretched out along, sleeping, as it seemed, very sound, tho' in their own dung and vomiting. All were wounded with Wine, but many had other hurts, and there they lay heaped one on another, like a Pile of dead Bodies. Yet some now and then made shift to rise up, though faintly, after they had, I suppose, digested their Wine, and immediately returned to their former behaviour, having still on them the skins of savage Beasts. Others finding themselves well wearied with these immoderate Entertainments, went staggering forth of the Arbour, seeking to get away by the narrow Passage; but many of these at their returning were found hurt and lame of the Limbs, some being only half Men and half Beasts, as Mermen, Centaurs, Satyrs and Savages. These, being with much a do gotten by degrees out of the little Door, met there with certain old rough and tough Fellows, who came towards them with Chains, and Shackles, wherewith they bond them Hand and Foot, and afterward beat them, very sound. If any one offered to rebel, they gave him many severe blows with a Bastinado, and they hardly suffered any to escape them, without making some account of this Nature with them.  
The most dangerous old Fellow of all, who gave the greatest blows, and indeed was most cruel, was called the Gout, clothed indeed in Silk and Satin, but of an ill-favoured shape and very hideous to behold. His Limbs were lank and lose, his Joints gross, his Legs swelled, his Face bloached, and his Hands and Fingers full of great Nodes and Crooked. The next to him had a Countenance partly pale, and partly red as any Fire; and his Name was Feaver-Ague. The Third was Dropsy, very hugely swollen with a Colour like Lead and Sulphur; and he was also a shrewd smiter, and tormented very cruelly. For in some he blew their Bellies like Bladders, till they were hard and distended like Drums; others Legs he puffed up; others their Breast and Face; and others their whole Body, till he had brought them to such a condition, that they could never be satisfied with Drink, but, the more they drank, they were still the more thirsty and insatiable. Hard at his Heels followed the Palsy, who seemed to be wholly Impotent, and that he had not any Nerves or Sinews, that were not utterly broken; but for all that, such as he could once lay hold on, he made them sure, rendering them quite Numb and Dead in half their Body, or crooked and bend in the middle, or weak and helpless and shaking in all their parts. Next him there was Apoplexy, or the Dead-Palsy, who took some strictly by the collar, and so beat them about the Head, that they remained as dead without any understanding or moving; and some indeed with two or three Knocks he killed outright. Among these were the Itch and Scab, followed by their Sister Leprosy, who so handled these poor Creatures, that their Bodies became like an hard crust, their Faces being adorned with goodly Saphires. But their Noses cost more in Painting, than if they had been limned in Gold, or Silver; for they were all covered over with rich Carbuncles. And yet for all they were so handled by these old Fellows, they could not forbear quarrelling among themselves; for they fell a tugging and lugging one another by the Ears, and fought so cruelly, that you might easily guests few of them would be left alive. Thus grew a great number of Diseases among Men at first, which being entered into the Blood and Marrow, came propagated down to late Posterity; but all of them had their Original from Intemperance. But we must not forget the Falling-sickness, who lay all along beating his Head against the Ground, and upon the hard Stones, that many times it broke, that the Blood gushed out; he foaming at the Mouth all the while like an angry Boar. But woe to him, whom he could fasten on; For he would fling him down, and then fall upon him, and never leave, till he had made him in as bad a case as himself. Yet he was not so cruel, as his Kinsman Apoplexy; for altho' he took away all understanding, yet he left some Motions and Signs of Life. There was also Catarrh, or Rheumatism, who continually aimed at the Head and Eyes, and Chest; he had a gross Head himself, so heavy, (to ones Eye) and withal so sleepy, as if he could hardly support himself. His Gorge was like a Sink; ever Bilching forth unsavoury fumes; his Eyes always sore; his Nose like a Limbeck continually Distilling; but not Rosewater, you may swear; for it was plainly Glanders and Snivel, which together with large quantities of Water, that came forth of his Head, as if sufficient to quench the heat of Wine, gave a smell, that annoyed all; but almost stifled them, that were near. Among all these old Wretches, there was one, that had well nigh five thousand Pieces and Patches on his Garment, and yet himself in a manner naked and barefoot; his Face was covered very thick with Dirt and Filth, and he looked very meager and hideous, which made all the Rest, seeing him so like a poor snake, and even unworthy to hold rank with them, to beat and bruise him, till the Blood issued forth. Only Headache, and Nastiness, and Lowsiness were content to keep him company. This very Picture of Misery was called Poverty.  
Last of all came old decrepit Age with a Staff in his Hand and mounted in a Chariot made all of dead Men's bones, with his Neighbour Death sitting in Triumph over him. The Chariot Wheels went over both Young and Old, breaking them in pieces, as it went a long.  
And this is the Substance of this Picture of Apelles, wherein that Ingenious Painter gives us a lively and graphical Description of Sobriety, and Drunkenness, setting forth apparently, to every Eye, both the Good and Evil, that happens to Men, as they choose either this or that.  
The END of the first TABLE.   

ENVY Unmasked And INNOCENCY Rewarded.  
An Excellent Example To all KINGS, and MAGISTRATES.  
Being A PREFACE to the following PICTURE.   

ENVY Unmasked And INNOCENCY Rewarded.  
KING Ptolemy, the Son of Lagus, had a Lieutenant named Theodotas whom he set over Phoenicia; this Man entered into a conspiracy against his Lord and Master in Tyre; so that the City and Island revolted from Ptolemy and Pelusium, which was the Key of Egypt on the side of Syria, was betrayed. At this juncture one Antiphilus a Villainous Rascal, a Painter, who envied Apelles mortally for his greater Skill and Favour with King Ptolemy, took occasion privately to go to the King, and to tell him, as a great Secret, that he understood for certain the Author and chief Adviser of this whole Treason, that it was Apelles, who was a sworn Creature of Theodotas, the Prince of the Faction, with whom he was often seen in great familiarity at Tyre; that particularly the Day before the Treason broke out, he was publicly at Dinner with him, often whispering in his Ear at Dinner Time. That immediately thereupon Tyre revolted from the King, and Pelusium was surprised all by the Advice and Artifice of Apelles. Now King Ptolemy, as he was always very hasty, being accustomed to Flattery, which blinds the Judgement of Princes, and puffs them up, took fire immediately at this, and exclaimed on Apelles, calling him a perfidious and ungrateful Traitor, and vowed his Death without mercy. And had there not been among the Conspirators, who were taken, a Man, who disdained the foul villainy of Antiphilus, and justified the injured Innocency of Apelles, he had without doubt, lost his Head immediately. But the Man made it appear to the King, that Apelles was never by any Man seen at Tyre, that he had no Manner of Acquaintance, with Theodotas, and that all this was but a malicious Slander of a Pitiful Rascally Painter, who envied the Glory of Apelles. Thus the King was cured of his Jealousy; he gave Apelles an hundred Talents of Gold to atone for the Injury he had done him by his Credulity, and withal gave him Antiphilus for his Slave, to do with him as he would, either as to Life, or Death. To him Apelles did no harm, but in Memory of his great Danger, and to warn others of the Nature of Detraction, he Drew and presented to the King this following Picture.   

APPELLES' HIS PICTURE OF CALUMNY.  
ON the right Hand sits a Man having huge large Ears, very little different from those of King Midas, reaching forth his Hand to a Lady, as yet a good way off, but coming towards him. About him stand two Women, Ignorance, as it should seem, and Suspicion. On the other side, the Lady  comes forward apace; a Woman exceeding fair, and well dressed, but something chased and stirred up, as expressing Rage and Anger, having in her left Hand a burning Fire-Brand, and with the other, dragging a young Man by the Hair of the Head, who held up his Hands to Heaven, calling God, to witness. There goes before her a Man pale and ill favoured, looking as if he resolved to find fault, very severely, and like those that are almost pined away with long sickness. One would guests this to be Envy, as the Lady, that came after him was Calumny, who dragged Innocence before, the Throne of Credulity. But yet there were two other Women, accompanying Calumny, who were continually egging her on, dressing and adorning her; and these, as I was informed by him that explained the Picture, were the one Conspiracy and the other Treachery. But behind them all there came a miserable, dejected, lamenting Woman, all composed to sorrow, and clad in black, and her Name was Repentance, who looking back with Tears and Shame, received Truth, that just than came unto her.  
Thus far APELLES his Picture of Calumny, or Detraction.  
〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉,  Hesiod  

The MORAL of APELLES HIS PICTURE.  
COncerning this Picture of Apelles, we must first consider, that it expresseth two several kinds of life, and two manners of living which are among Men. That is to say, the one, of Abstinence and Sobriety; the other of Gourmandise, Gluttony, and Drunkenness. The first is reputed necessary for all Men; for, as we cannot live without eating and drinking, considering we are not Angels, but Mortal Men, even so as needful is it to govern our life by the rule of Sobriety. Therefore we should all enter into the House of Sobriety, without desiring to pass any further: for we live not to eat, but eat to live. And because tasting is one of the senses, which we have most in common with other Creatures, it is very requisite, that Man should moderate and temper the same, both by Abstinence and Sobriety, as also reason which is only given him; if he will not show himself to be a beast, but that which is more than a beast. For this cause, Apelles figured the dwelling of Sobriety, without the Garden or Orchard, to let us understand thereby, that we are not 〈◊〉 pass any further to venture on excess; but to rest contented with receiving our refection honestly, for satisfying the necessities of Nature. In like manner, he gave no other abiding to Sobriety than Tents, Pavilions, and Tabernacles, to signify, that we should make no long Sitting at the Table, no more than Passengers do in their Inns; who enter not to remain there always, but only to content nature, and then to pass on upon their Journey.  
If Apelles, who was no other than a Pagan, could take knowledge hereof: much more ought we to consider the same than he, considering, that we have the testimony of the holy Scripture, which admonisheth us, that we have here no permanent City, that we dwell in this body, as in a Tabernacle, until such time as it shall please the Lord, that gave us such lodging, to dislodge us hence. I think also, that Moses gave us admonishment herein, by the Feast of Tabernacles, and the life which the ancient Israelites led in the Wilderness. Because our life is so short, and as we feed but to lengthen and continue the same, we should therefore be fearful of diminishing and curtaling our time, in spending the most part of our time at the Table, where many cracks and flaws are made by excess.  
Therefore they may well be counted wise, and worthy to bear the Name of Man, that would go on no further: but returned honestly to their own affairs, after they had soberly received their sustenance.  
By the Sports, Pastimes, and Music, and Songs, which were exercised in this Meadow of Sobriety, I think he purposed to demonstrate, that the life of Man hath some honest Pleasures and Recreations allowed it. For God doth not prohibit us to use such good gifts, as he hath bestowed on us, living in moderate joy, when the time so requireth. It is written: That there is a time to laugh, and a time to mourn, a time for joy, and a time for sadness. And therefore a Christian Man may learn to use both the one and the other well, and all to the glory of God.  
Most certain it is, that God hath permitted us honest Pleasures and delight, which he hath not forbidden, or are to his dishonour, or any occasion of evil. All honest and virtuous Exercise are permitted unto us, in rendering thanks to God forthem, and acknowledging his benefits by them, provided also, that we keep ourselves always within the rules of Sobriety, Modesty, and Honesty. Thus we see one manner of Life, and that which most conveniently beseemeth man.  
The other is more brutish, than humane, the sense and description whereof taketh itself thus. First, for the large and common beaten way, whereby men entered into the Garden, and concerning the unbridled multitude that made use thereof; I must understand his Meaning thus, that every Man affecteth ease, idleness and voluptuous Pleasures.  
Some knew how to give a Mean to their desires, and took not so much Meat and Wine as should trouble their understandings: but could well return to their ordinary businesses and use Reason in all things. Now, there were others that knew not any Mean or Measure, neither had regard to Time or Place; but would needs venture further, and fell into such extremity of folly, as they lost their senses, understanding and memory. So that thereby they became brute beasts, and could no way retire from this disorderly battle; till diseases, poverty, and necessity admonished them of their duty. For they are the last Companions of Drunkenness and Ways of all Carowsers, that do her the greatest Honour.  
By Handmaids or Waiting-Women to Drunkenness, I understand those several vices, as their apt Names do signify; and they are the meetest for her Company. And by the Drinks, which she gave to her. Quaffers, he meaneth the venom and poison of voluptuous excess, which maketh such a Transport of men's Understandings, that they grow like unto brute beast, according as they take less or more, and according to the complexions they are of; representing even those very beasts, whose Nature and Manners they cone nearest unto; and refusing all friendly counsel and advice, do delight more in such barbarous and uncivil courses, than any other manners that should show them to be Men.   

The CONCLUSION. An Admonition concerning the Shortness of Life.  
MAny men complain that Nature is very unkind to them in allotting them so little time to live, and often cry out, that no sooner are they born, but they must die, before they can take their full Draught of the Pleasures of this Life. Neither is this the complaint of the Illiterate and Vulgar sort of People only, but even of the most Valiant and Learned Men. We not often meet with any that are desirous to relinquish the enjoyments of this Life, and to enter upon another state, But too many that cry out with Aristotele, Life is short, but Art is long. We find many bemoaning their condition with sighs and tears, and such dismal expressions as these: Nature is more bountiful to the very beasts and savages then to Man: They can live for five or ten Ages; but as for Man (who is born to greater and nobler ends) is not allowed half their time, though he entreats and strives never so vehemently. But to these Persons, we may find, Seneca does give a severe Reprimand. How comes it to pass that we lose and squander away so much of our time, if we complain, we have not Enough? When we can spend whole Days and Months, and Years in doing Evil, or else in doing nothing, or in doing things besides our real business. Infinite are the hours which we bestow upon Ceremony and servile Attendances, in Hopes and Fears; Love and Revenge; Balls and Entertainment, Ambition: Coust flatteries; Rambling voyages; Impertinent Studies and Unaccountable Amours. Life is long enough, and the time allotted us, if it were well employed, were abundantly enough to answer all the Ends and Purposes of Mankind. But we never remember our End, nor seek the means and so it comes to pass, that when Death makes a visit to us, we are damped and dejected in our Spirits, and are extremely loath to departed. In a word, we live as if we were never to die, without any Reflection upon our Lives, which may be taken from us in a Moment's time. For would we live, as if we were always in expectation of Death, and set our Accounts right, every day that passes over our Heads; Would we, I say, seriously consider, and put in practice Pythagoras his excellent Advice to his Disciples. Namely, daily to call ourselves to a strict Account, what we have omitted, or what we have committed, we should never set our Affections upon this Life, nor be the least a afraid of Death; which would free us from this troublesome habitation, and invert us with a Blessed Eternity.   

The CONTEMPT OF DEATH.  
THat all Men must die is most certain, and that Death which we so much dread and decline, is not a Determination, but the Intermission of a Life which will return again is as certain. What is it then, I wonder, that makes men afraid: Oh! 'tis an hard thing to die will some say: Who can without very great reluctancy enter into an ruknewn state, and quit the gaudy pleasures of this varnished Earth? Thus do they fear and tremble, and can't endure to think of an after separation; For they represent Death to their thoughts as a strange and hideous Monster, and (with Aristotle) are willing to conclude it the most Terrible of all Terribles. But alas! would they consider, that to die 'tis but a moment's work, and that no sooner is the pure Soul stripped of its gross Body, but our Pain and all the Miseries of this wicked life are at an end.  
Again, let them remember that the World itself stands condemned to a Dissolution, that every man must submit to the Prince of Death. He that will not voluntarily follow in the great and beaten Road must be drawn by force, for our fate is fixed and the Decree is immutable. And besides what Reason have men to murmur or be afraid of Death, when that which we call Death is the Gate and Door of Eternal Life, and who is not willing to exchange a Life of Mourning and Sorrow, for an Eternity of Happiness? Death in a word is a Debt to Providence and Nature, and this Life was never designed but for a Journey to another Place. O! therefore, let us comply with that cheerfully, which Providence hath made necessary.  
The END