THE CHRISTIAN KNIGHT Compiled, BY SIR WILLIAM WISEMAN Knight, FOR THE PUBLIC WEAL AND Happiness of England, Scotland, and Ireland.  EPHES. 6. 
Induite vos armaturam Dei.  
Printed at London by john Legatt. 1619.   

Good Reader,  
I Have heard of a discourse the other year, between two Frenchmen, the one a Soldier, the other a Civilian, against the vices of their times, and country. The Soldier was the Duke de Mercury, a right noble, and valorous Captain, late Lieutenant general to the Emperor, against the Turk in Hungary, and yet a great enemy to Duels. The Civilian was a Companion of his, and undertook against coveting, as it appears by the Preamble following. And I am sorry we have no more of theirs, but the Preamble; since the times, and vices be as well ours as theirs. What the rest of their method was, I have not seen, but by the quality of their persons, & by their learning we may imagine. The argument could not be but profitable, and I set down, what I think probable to come nearest their meaning, and the good of our nation; and I speak English to English. For here is first set up the mark, or white, which we must all shoot at, and is done in two Orations Paranaeticall to heavenward, The one showing us our way thither, The other our happiness, when we come there. Here are secondly discovered two potent impediments in our way, that hinder our sight, and level: and these are our Irascible, and Concupiscible parts. The abuse whereof is touched in two Charges; the one showing the injustice of Duel: the other our common injustice in buying, and selling, and neglect of common good. And lastly, here be two Homages, or thanks-givings to God. The one of a Soul truly converted, the other of one proceeding in his grace, with signs of both. There be many things here delightful to be thought of, nothing hard to be done, and we shall blame ourselves most desperately, if we have not done. Read therefore I beseech thee, and make use of It; which if thou do, thou wilt find much comfort; and if all do, they will make as flourishing a commonwealth as ever was. There will scarce be any poor in it, or any unquietness. King's will glory in their Subjects, and Subjects in their Sovereign, and all in each other, as it is in Heaven.  
Farewell.   

THE DUKE.  
AFter the ceasing of our Turkish wars and twenty years peace concluded with Acmath king of Turkey 1608. our faces were all turned homeward, and my voluntaries not a few were impatient of idleness, seeking to be dismissed for some other employment. They had followed me indeed many hundred miles out of France; for which I was not only willing to listen to them, but also ready to gratify them in some sort, with a final testimony of my love upon our parting. I sent therefore for my Chaplain to come to me Mounsieur john Faber Licenciat in Divinity, to be advised by him: who as he was a man both learned, and discreet; so could he best satisfy me in any thing I should desire. And when he was come, none being with me then, but Mr. Doctor Petroneus my assistant, a Civilian of great understanding, and Lancelot Mott my controller, second of my Council; Sir said I to my Chaplain, we have a resolution to discharge our companies, and to licence our voluntaries, which you know are many in this town of Vienna: for we lose but time in these parts, our business being now at an end. We came not hither to chase the Stag or wild Boar, and nothing else you see is here to be done. A great many of them came freely to us, and I would send them away with honour: howbeit, while I bethink me of our departure hence, and of our long separation that will be, having been heretofore so long accustomed together; I remember the saying of Christ, and I am touched with some part of his compassion, saying, misereor super turbam, & so say I in my affection towards them, 
Mark. 8.  that I have pity over my company: and as Christhereupon did feed their bodies miraculously; so these that have no corporal need, I would they were spiritually fed before their going; that above all things in these dangerous times they may not faint in their way to heaven, & may be profitable in their countries where they are to go. They are to me as children, & I know we shall not part asunder, without tears on both sides. I would have them to do well, & some instructions I wish they had with them, such as yourself thinks best. Both is your authority among them such as they will easily believe you; and your learning and Method such, as they will delight to hear you, and bear it in mind. I have been often bold with you, as my inward friend, yet never so bold as to give you your text. Neither will, only thus much, I would entreat you against the feast following, which is now at hand, that ye will be ready to say somewhat against the enormities of our country by anger, and avatice. The one proper to men of war, the other to men of peace: yet both to much used by both, and have made our Country ill spoken of, and disjoined many families with civil dissension. I am well advised what I speak. There be in this city divers that may do much in their country by their good example, and I doubt not will come to such preferment there, as may amend many matters that are much amiss. Our single challenge and combats there, are grown so common, and upon so slight occasions, five thousand have been slain upon it in France alone within these twenty years, and so many pardons of record to be seen for it at this day: and again, our grating is so extreme upon the poorer sort, that I know not what will come of it in the end, but the ruin of us all. The commons will be glad of the least quarrel against the rich, and daily factions between families will lay us open to any potent enemy to do us wrong. But what should I speak thus to you, who know it as well as I. There be those that come to see us every day, right worthy persons, and great friends; but when they come home, they will be enemies I fear me; if they have not some warning, and be not stored with the greater grace. Of the two vices I speak of, I know not which is the cause of most injustice: well I am assured, none doth justice in the heat of anger, or coveting, more angry sometimes for a small matter then a great; will kill a man for speaking of a word amiss, and will spare a man that picks his purse; will not spend three pence upon a poor body, and will have hundreds instore to cirumvent a poor gentleman. All the world is misled with these two vices, and were it not for these two, there would need no Officers in a kingdom. I know no sin almost, but one of these is, I will not say the causer, but the very inforcer of it. Give them I pray some effectual warning of these, that their corporal fight may so match with their spiritual, as they may not perish for want of instruction. Whereunto my Chaplain: Sir said he, your excellency hath propounded very well, and your zeal no doubt proceedeth from heavenly grace. I shall not be wanting on my part to do God and you service, and the fruits of your desire shall be the performance of my uttermost. But by your grace's favour, since it hath pleased you to participate thus much of your mind unto me, which belongeth specially to my charge to be answerable unto, yea forwarder to accomplish so pious a request, than you to propose: you have given me boldness in this, to impart unto you also my opinion, what I think best, and will be most fruitful, if it shall please you to conceive so. I will prepare myself (God willing) against your day, though it cost me two days in respect of my weakness; not having yet recovered perfectly the blow of a Halberd, that beat my Target to my head, and one of my sides to the ground, which so impaired my strength, that I cannot speak much at a time. By God's grace I shall set them in a ready way to heaven: but form to discourse of Duellum; where occasion will be to speak of honour, and arms, it little belongeth to my profession, but more a great deal to men of honour, and approved valour, such as you are. For although where men make conscience of any thing, and resort to me in private for my opinion, I shall be furnished I hope to resolve them: yet will it be little esteemed from one of our sort, to speak all that such discourse will require. They that contemn Christ in such a business, will sooner contemn his servants. We that be Clergy men are accounted cowards, and dastards, as I heard a knight say once of a Bishop who had been his Lord, and Master: he commended him for his virtues, and wisdom; save only that he was a Coward, for putting up so easily a box on the ear from a Duke, and following his master's steps the Saviour of the world. Truth is truth out of any man's mouth, and yet more aptly delivered by one, then by another. When we persuade in such a matter, they tell us we be Priests, and speak like ourselves, and are very simply conceited of us whatsoever we say; yea when they be driven to say with us, they think against us, and do what they list, Maius peccatum habent. I speak not this to fly the burden of telling truth, whether it edify or not: at their peril be it, if they receive not the seed that is sown in their hearts. But Sir, it would best become yourself such a burden as this, who are both a Soldier and a Scholar: we were both brought up at a time, and students in the Sorbone. The eyes of all men were upon you even then, to see honour and learning so unmatchable in your person; a perfect understander of that you heard and read, and a perfect deliverer of that you understood. You were but young, when you had passed your courses of Philosophy, and morality: and when your ripeness was ready for the harvest, our commonwealth, had the reaping of your best fruits in the greatest employments both at home, and abroad. Think it not much to hear a little of your praise. I have done before I have begun. I have heard you speak very well at your board of many points concerning this controversy. I know none can speak better than yourself of it, if it would please you to appoint a time, and to bestow an hour or two that way: with this, my controller applauded it exceedingly, and though your chaplain, said he, might do it very well, and can do much in that company to persuade, yet none more fit than yourself, a Christian Soldier amongst Christian Soldiers and much more piercing it would be in their hearts, to hear so noble a swordman to speak against the sword, or Mars himself to speak against combat, whose honour is in fight: well said I, ye will persuade me anon to preach too: I will be advised. But what say you to the other matter, which was Avarice: that, I hope you will speak of. No truly Sir said my Chaplain, if it please Mr. Assistant to undergo that charge: who is both learned in our laws, and of great estate himself, and and every way fittest, except his trouble. Not I Sir (truly said he.) I thought as much, this is not the first time you have glanced at me: they be matters of conscience, and consequence, that must be handled therein; and are fittest for your charge. I pray do you your duty as my Lord hath moved, and let me hear no more of this: I am no Preacher. Ye shall both command me, (said my Chaplain) and I will not fail of my duty, if ye will have it so: I do but propound what I know, and am well assured would be best. The sin of Avarice ye speak of, is crept so far into the Clergy, that our hearers bid us amend ourselves first, before we preach amendment to others; and they give us a very deaf ear, whatsoever we tell them upon this Theme. To be a Preacher belongs not to your vocation: 
Rom. 1.  yet every one ought to be a Preacher if God Almighty bid speak: yea to shun this charge when it may do good, is to blush at the Gospel. And who can speak more freely of this than you, who are furnished with all that nature and art can afford? who of your sort better seen in Scripture or history than you? who better acquainted with the Common Law, or Civil than you, having always professed the one of them to your great commendation? who more nobly descended for a gentleman, better stated for land and offices, or that hath a more worthy offspring to provide for then you? and if it were lawful in any to be covetous, it were truly lawful in you; that have so great a charge to care for, and feed so many mouths: pretence of need, or fear of need, makes many covetous, and there is a kind of need that attends the greatest. And therefore for a man of your quality not to be covetous, who hath no end of expenses; or to speak against covetousness, which is want to maintain greatness; would be as rare to hear, as imitable for example. The world wants many such as you, that can as well speak as do. And although these Robes and Velvet gown will not become a Pulpit, yet fit enough if it please my Lord for a great chamber. There be many that give the charge at a Sessions, not better furnished than you for the people's edifying: and it is no more but a charge that is required of you, although it be in matters of much greater importance, and that touch more nearly the inward reformation: neither speak I this to ease me of a burden (as I said before) who am born for burdens: 
Psal. 65.  for as David saith, God hath laid his people upon our necks; and yet if such a one as you can do more with a word, than we with ten, (pardon me Sir I beseech you) I know not how you will be excused. But I say no more, your will shall be done. Well Sir said my Assistant, since you be in good earnest, you shall not take offence at me: but what if I deceive your expectation, and shall not perform so well, as the matter importeth. Surely Sir, said my controller, that was not wont to be your fault; and for my own part, I must say what I think: I had rather hear but half from my Lord and you, concerning these matters, than the whole matter from another: for both in the one case, my Lord being a man of Sword and honour, it is not like but he will respect what he may the honour of gentlemen upon falling out: so on the other side, yourself being also noble, and of great expense, who must have much coming in to bear your charge; there is none will fear, or doubt partiality in you, to speak against coveting or keeping, more than you must needs: but rather will extend yourself as far as you may, and your learning will give leave. Spiritual men speak learnedly of their matters, and whatsoever ye bring us, I suppose ye fetch it from their grounds: but if the temporal also, and men of action concur with the same, as I know not well yet whether they do or no; and I would gladly learn: surely this will make a double bar against all impugners, that the evil disposed will not have a word to say, we have a guess sufficient what our Prelates will say. But since the motion hath been made, and to my seeming very fitly: I should be a petitioner to you both, and many more ye shall have if need be, that it may be so. We are true Jsraelites, 
Exod. 20.19  that had rather hear Moses speak then God almighty: whereat, when we had laughed a little while; It is not unusual with me said I, to speak to my fellows and followers; and yet it is more than I dare promise you, neither will, unless my Assistant do as much: I will take a pausing time, and if I can think of any thing worth your hearing, you shall know: and my Assistant undertook in like manner. And so being ready to departed, I told them that for teaching I would not intermeddle, but leave them wholly to their Pastors; whom I would exhort what I could, to believe and follow in all such matters as I should give them in charge; and but a charge I would make of it. No more shall I (said my Assistant.) And my charge my Lord (said my controller) shall be to put your Excellency to charge for the time, and to bid them all welcome with the best cheer we can make them. This was the end of our Parlance, and when the times came, we performed accordingly: whereof I have here set down the dead letters; but whosoever had heard my Chaplain, would have loved the world the worse as long as they lived. My Assistant likewise delivered it with much grace, and gravity: and myself did my good will. My Chaplain began as followeth.   


THE CHAPLAIN upon Panis Viatorum. THE FIRST ORATION.  
RIght honourable, worshipful, and well beloved, ye are come hither (I perceive) to hear somewhat for your edification: but I fear me, you shall find a soldier of me, rather than a divine: for so my many years employment in the camp hath made me; being a place of all others unfit for study, and a mortal enemy to Muses. My scars ye see make mention of some wounds, and my blood hath testified my love to you, that have seldom failed to bear you company in your thickest perils, with target in one hand, and my book in the other. I have assisted many a gasping spirit in their agony to heavenward; where I doubt not now, but they see, and sit with God for ever and ever: and you, whom his heavenly providence hath reserved from slaughter, he hath preserved (ye must think) for his further service: if your sword rust, yet your action may not, which must evermore be doing, and working of your weal: ye have peace now, and ye have put up your weapons; what then? peace gives rest to temporal, and not to spiritual fight, we may never stand still in our way to heaven: and thither I was wished to exhort you to day by one, whose authority I may in no wise decline. I will do my best (God willing) to set you in your way; and in your way I will leave you: it will be no new matter I shall tell you, but what ye have every day cause to think of, and are able to teach others. Your years and days have been long time near death, as near as Canon shot; and daily death before your eyes hath been enough to mortify you, and hasten you to another world. I shall not therefore be over tedious to you, that are so well prepared already: neither will I dazzle your understanding with dark matters, nor weary your wits with points of learning; but only admonish you, what encounters ye are like to have, and what glory will attend you, if ye be conquerors. This will be the last time we shall all meet thus; and if I shall any thing say worth your hearing, I beseeh you also let it be worth your following.  Quare appenditis argentum non in panibus, et laborem vestrum non insaturitate. Esay 55. 
Intending therefore to exhort you, or rather to hasten you in your way to heaven: I thought it fit to lay before you the saying of Esay the Prophet. Why spend ye silver (saith he) and not in breads? your labour and not in saturity? A short speech, but full of mystery: why spend ye silver and not in bread, your labour and not in saturity or fullness? we will speak first of the first part, and afterwards of the second: & as touching the first part, it is well enough known there is nothing more needful for the sustentation of man, then bread. It is that we pray for in our Pater noster, as the needfullest food, and most universal that is: kings themselves cannot be without it; and the poorest have it, though they have nothing else: every body loveth it; no one dish, that every body loveth; yet every one loves bread. And besides the love we all have to it, God hath given it this prerogative, that, as it is most necessary, so is it best cheap, and easiest to come by. And therefore most justly the Prophet cries out, saying; why spend ye silver and not in bread? as who should say; why spend ye money upon trifles, your patrimony upon pastimes, and all the means you have upon merriments, and are content to sit a hungered for them?  
But what I pray you is this silver, that men spend in this idle sort? all that a man hath or can possess in this world, may be drawn to two heads: the one is time, which how precious it is I need not tell, but if it were ten times more, it were all too little to spend in our way to heaven. The other is our goods (that is to say) all we have; whether they be of mind, as reason, wit, will, memory, learning, and such like; or of body, health, strength, activity, prowess, eloquence, or of outward fortunes, as riches, honour, pleasures, and the like; all which is here called Silver, 
Apoc. 21.  as in heaven all is gold. And this is the silver the holy Prophet speaketh of, when he asketh us this question after a manner of increpation, or in chiding sort, saying: why spend ye all these things and not in bread?  
But holy Prophet of God, shall I ask thee a question? didst thou ever know any that spent much, and cared not how much, and that much of it was not in bread? could he live without eating? did he not feast and make merry? and could this be done without bread? which if thou canst not deny; why dost thou say they spend, and not in bread? I acknowledge thee God's Prophet, and upon this infallible word by thee delivered I must build to day: thy thought must be my theme, thy spirit my text as near as I can. Bread was therefore here but an allegory, or figurative speech, and by it is meant the bread of life, or bread of the soul; as appeareth by that which followeth tending all to the soul, and not to the body, where he saith soon after, Hearing, hear me, and eat that is good, and yoursoule, he saith, not your body shall be delighted with fatness. And again; give ear, and come to me, hear me, and your soul (he saith not your body) shall live, and I will make an everlasting league with you. The bread of the soul therefore is the bread he speaks of, and this only bread is intended here; the bread that nourisheth us, the bread that strengtheneth us; is not to sin, and perdition, but to heaven and happiness. This is the bread I say the prophet speaketh of, and no man cares for; lets it lie moulding by him, and buyeth it not; is daily offered him, and he daily refuseth it; yea scorns the offerer or bringer of it for the most part.  
But let us enter a little further into the matter I beseech you, to find what this bread is, that we may buy thereof, since it seemeth so necessary. Truly it is not hard to find, if we would but contemplate our need: if our bodies were hungry, we should know how to seek, and where to buy: we forget not our dinner or supper, though stomach we have none; the time of the day will remember us of it: and shall not our uprising then, and down lying put us in mind of our soul's food for our spiritual good, and life everlasting? Let us stir up our zeal a little, and mark what this bread is, and what the worth of it. Open your hands and unfold your arms; that ye may be ready to catch it, and hold it when you have it.  
This breads right worthy, is in two kinds answerable to our estates or lives in this world, and the world to come. And therefore he calleth it breads, not bread: the one sort of bread for distinctions sake, I call the bread of travelers, Panem viatorum: 
Psal. 77.  the other Panem angelorum, the bread of Angels: which latter name, although it be applied sometimes in the first sense, yet in this place for my better methood, and your better remembrance, I will distinguish from the other; and confine it only to our estate in heaven, and to our food there. The first bread is that our souls do feed on, while it is in Via in the way to heaven. And therefore I call it Panem viatorum; as Saint chrysostom calls our life here Figuram viatorum: 
Hom. 60. in Math. Psal. 101.24.  The other is that it feeds on in the end of the way, when it comes to heaven, and must live for ever. Of this last I shall speak last in time convenient; of the first I shall speak first, and shall resemble it to the Show bread, 
1. Reg. 21.  or bread of Proposition, that was given to David to eat of, when he had been weary and hungry, and was pursued by his enemies: and it was such as he might not eat, but with cleanness of body, as the Scripture declareth.  
For the better understanding whereof, and true applying it to ourselves, we must know also that three special things are comprehended in this bread of travelers: the one is the word of God. The second all manner of virtues, and good habits in our souls. The third is Sacraments; all which may rightly be called bread, and so sometimes are in holy Scripture. The word of God is called by Christ, 
Mat. 15.16.  Panis filiorum. the bread of children. And the woman of Canaan calleth it the crumbs that fell from the master's table. virtues be also called bread: sorrows and tears for sin is a great virtue. And holy David calleth it bread: my tears have been bread to me day and night; and in an other place, thou shalt feed us with bread of tears. 
Psal. 41. Psal. 79.  An other virtue like to this is true mortification or penance, which is signified in Scripture by this word Ashes. 
Psal. 101.  As king David useth it saying, that he eat ashes for his bread; as who should say, that ashes were bread to him: All which things and whatsoever else that comforts our soul, he may seem to call by the name of bread, when he imputes his dryness of spirit to nothing else, but to the neglect of it, saying, I was withered like hay, and my heart was dried up, Quia oblitus sum comedere panem meum, 
Psal. 101.  Because I forgot to eat my bread.  
Lastly For Sacraments, Omnia Sacramenta (saith S. Austin) All Sacraments that are done in us by the ministry of God's servants, are meat to our belly. And Christ calleth his supper by the name of Bread: saying, 
john 6.  He that eateth this bread shall live for ever, and preferreth it before Moses his bread, saying, that Moses gave not bread from heaven, but my Father (saith he) gives you true bread from heaven. Note this word true bread: as who should say this were not true bread which we eat with our meat; but rather a figurative bread, feeding only the flesh: and the Sacrament the true bread that feedeth and sustaineth the soul, or principal part of man. And these three breads may well be meant by those three loaves in the Gospel, 
Luk. 11.  which one came to borrow of his friend at midnight, and was importunate for. Whereupon Saint Ambrose asketh this question, 
lib. 7. in Luc.  and makes answer, Qui sunt isti tres panes (saith he) nisi coelestis misterij alimentum, What be these three loaves, but the food of heavenly mysteries. 
Hom. 26. in joh.  Saint Augustine also calls these heavenly things bread, and tells us the sweetness of it, such as is able to entice and force a man's heart to the love of it, how little soever the world doth esteem it. But to our purpose.  
All these three may be rightly called the bread of Proposition, as I said; being shown and propounded for all to buy of, and feed on, that be yet as travelers before they come to their journeys end. The word of God feeds us with instruction: Virtues feed us with imitation: Sacraments feed us with grace and consolation. The word of God gives life, and motion to our souls: Virtues digestion: and Sacraments augmentation. The word of God with what reverence it must be handled: Virtues with what resolution they must be embraced: a Sacrament with what purity it must be received. I undertake not now to teach: ye know or may know by your learned Prelates, to whom I remit you: only of virtues I say thus much to you, because they are more within the compass of your understanding, and ye have daily use of them; that as they be many and very nourishing to your souls; so are they like flowers in your garden, oil in your lamps, and corn to your Mill. A Mill will be fired, and the stones fret out one another without corn in it: even so do our passions, they chafe us and fret us to nothing, if Virtues come not between. The flowers of virtue refresh and comfort the soul, and make it admirably sweet. The oil of virtue makes the soul so bright and smooth, that God may see his own face in it, and acknowledge us thereby to be his true Image.  
In particular have we taken away once good name, or any thing else that is his? Let us make a virtue of it by submission, and restitution. Are we angry at a disgrace done us? Let us not be hasty of revenge; but let us be glad if we can, of such a trial sent us. Temperance of body, and chastity of mind, are great virtues and endear us to God. I may not omit humility and mildness, gentleness and affability, 
Mat. 18.  that makes us the very child that God took up in his arms, and showed him for a pattern for all the world to behold. Fortitude or valour is likewise a singular virtue, without which almost there can be no virtue; not humility nor obedience can want it, not the least passion vanquished without it: my purpose is not to reckon up all virtues, but only to give instance of a few. In one word, ye know all of ye when ye do ill; shun it and amend it: ye know what is virtue also, and when ye do well, embrace it and feed on it, it is your soul's bread; and to feed on it hard, makes a fat soul.  
These be the bread you should buy, these the things you should spend your silver on; make a household book and keep account with yourselves of your laying out, and expenses every day; which if they be not in a good conscience of some of these virtues, or be in a bad conscience of the contrary; ye will grow behind hand quickly, and your souls will be so poor, that ye will rid no way in your post to heavenward. I have read of a noble Roman called Sextius, who never miss night, 
Senec. lib. 3 de ira.  but would call to mind what he had done amiss that day, and if any day were that he amended nothing in, he accounted it utterly lost: he learned it I think of some servant of God, and so may you look on your counting book every night, and see what Items ye have there, what chaste thoughts, and how the contraries resisted; what patience, and how anger was resisted; how just your bargains and contracts? how ye pray and have God in your mind first and last? how pitiful to the poor, how heedy for swearing, how for cursing, how for overmuch eating and drinking, idle talk, and ribaldry, 
Phil. 4.  all which ye may do in him that comforts you, (as S. Paul saith) if you put your good wills to it. The horse that carries you, must be your good will: if your will be ardent and zealous, he never tears: if it be cold, he holds not out a day. The wind that launcheth you through the Ocean, must be your good will; the wind will be always as great as your will, and your will should be ever as great as your hunger. Oh that we might feel our soul's hunger as sensibly as our body's hunger; we should then buy this heavenly bread much faster, and ply our souls oftener with these heavenly provisions than we do. Behold the worth of this bread our holy Prophet offers us to buy.  
But it may be, ye would gladly know why the Prophet calls these things bread, and not by some other name aswell, that may be as signifying for his purpose as this word Bread: Surely we shall find in Scriptures if we mark it, that what we eat to sustain our bodies with, is called sometimes by the name of Bread, as if there were nothing else before us to eat but Bread, Exod 3.2. King's cap. 9 and other like places; where to dine or sup is called to eat Bread, and yet had they other things to eat besides bread. As we see where Abraham entreated his three guests to come in and eat bread with him, 
Gen. 18.  and yet there was not only bread, but honey, milk, and veal. And in the first of Kings where Saul accursed them that should eat bread that day; 
cap. 14.  we read what punishment came upon them for jonathans' sake, for tasting only of a honeycomb in his way, and touched no Bread. Lo here, where honey also is understood by Bread, as every thing else may be which we eat, both for the generality, and likewise for the necessity of the food of bread; since every one must have it, and nothing can be eaten without it.  
All things therefore we see that are food, is called Antonomastice by the name of Bread, as by the worthiest name: and so of our spiritual food, if a man should ask why our Prophet calleth it bread, and not by some other name, as why doth he not call it Clothing, since we cannot come there without a wedding garment: 
Mat. 22.  why doth he not call it armour or weapons arma nostra spiritualia: 
2. Cor. 10.  we come not to heaven without fight, neither fight we without weapons? why doth he not call it wings, 
Psal. 54.7.  since we cannot fly without wings? why doth he not call it a ladder as it is called in Genesis, 
cap. 28.12  to climb to heaven by? why doth he not call it Almsdeeds a thing so much commended in Scriptures? why calls he it not I say by none of these, since all these be so necessary for us? truly the reason is plain if we mark it.  
All these things that I have reckoned, be they never so fit for us, yet are they all without us. Clothing is for the outside, weapons, wings, ladder, alms, or whatsoever else, are all on the outside of us, and come not so near our life, as bread doth: all other things do no good without, unless we have bread within. Those things indeed do furnish us, but bread doth nourish us; and therefore though other things be necessary, yet bread is most necessary or necessary of necessaries; and the word is used by the Prophet in a supereminent signification; as a man would say, this is lock and key, this is all in all, this the sinews, this the marrow of all our good: and therefore all that intrinsically serveth to our everlasting weal, be aptly called by this word, even this supereminent word Bread. And as all our outward operations, and actions are nothing without bread, and inward sustentation of man; whereby he hath strength, and comfort in his doing, and can do nothing without it: So if we should devise one word to call all things by, that we need, either in respect of the greatness of our need, or the multiplicity of them; we can find no one word or name so fit, or so significant as this word Bread: and for such is used, and made choice of in our Pater noster by God himself: where whatsoever we need or pray for almost, we are bidden to ask it by the name of Bread, give us this day our daily bread: that is to say, as holy fathers expound it, give us whatsoever will nourish us, either body, or soul.  
Are we to pray for patience? we ask it here by the name of Bread. Ask we sorrow for sin? here it is called bread. Ask we fervour and devotion? God understands us by the name of Bread. Ask we chastity and mortification? he gives it us here by the word bread. Ask we comfort, ask we charity, ask we grace, constancy, or perseverance to the end? all is included in this word Bread. All is bread, all is food of soul, all makes it fat, rich, fair, comely and beautiful, worthy of salvation, worthy of heaven, worthy of God. And therefore no marvel if the Prophet call these things Bread, since God so understands them in our daily form of prayer, which he gave us from his blessed mouth: give us this day our daily bread.  
Now let no man ask me, how is patience bread? how are devotion, charity, or any other virtue bread? this reason shall serve for all reasons, that Christ in effect hath called them so. Let us go buy and bestow our money freely on it. Let us be profuse, and prodigal upon it: the more we spend this way, the more we have; the more we wast, the greater our store; the more we wrestle, and exercise, the less weary; the faster we run, the more in breath, as all they that prove shall assuredly find. And yet, if we shall seek a reason also why; these things, or how, or in what sense they are called bread; we shall not go far for a reason to satisfy them that be curious: and it will not be unfruitful to us neither, when we understand it. We will go no further I say for a reason, then to the very nature of bread, and the properties thereof, as I will declare now unto ye.  
We touched in the beginning some properties of bread, and some others there are beside, which are also found in this heavenly bread: yea and much more in this, then in that. First bread feeds us and keeps us from perishing: so doth our heavenly bread feed us and preserve us from perishing eternally. I need not prove it to you, it is well enough known; for as bread hath many alterations, before it come to make flesh; even so it is with our ghostly bread. The first alteration of bread is in the mouth, by eating and chewing, the mouth of the soul is hearing, and reading. The second alteration is in the stomach, where the meat is turned into a white substance called Chylus; the stomach of the soul is deep consideration, all pale, and astonished to think of the horrible danger it was in a little before. The third alteration is in the liver, where our food turns to blood, and looks red; the liver of the soul is shame, and confusion, blushing red as fire, for that we have done wickedly. The last alteration is into flesh, and the flesh of our soul, is our good estate to Godward; which hearing and reading consulted upon, consideration resolved upon, shame kindled, and sends the blood of grace from part to part to consolidate. Grace clarifies our reason, gives life to our will, blows courage into our heart, which is the seat of virtues.  
The second quality of bread is to make purest blood. Other meats have more mixture in them of choler, or melancholy that the blood is the worse for it, other studies, sciences, and high questions of learning though they feed the soul also; yet are they mixed lightly with elation, or emulation, as it is written, Scientia inflat; 
1. Cor. 8,  and therefore go not so clearly to the good of our soul, as our ghostly food doth. This bread our Prophet speaks of here, hath no such mixture in it: the word of God is wholly void of it, like a crystal fountain of a most fluent stream. Virtue were not virtue, if it endeavoured not the same: and the sacraments are the purest pipes from the side of our Saviour, and cannot make other then purest nourishment. Will ye know what blood these make? behold God's Saints from Enoch to the Apostles, and so downward: we may know their food by their complexions that were so white and red in God's sight according to his own heart; the very pictures of virtue and grace: look upon the blood of Martyrs, how precious it is in the sight of God, from Abel hitherto, and all over the world. The seed of man is made of the purest blood said Pythagoras, and God made choice of that blood, to sow the field his Church withal in due season.  
The 3. property of bread is to be loved of all: every one loves not every meat, yet few or none loves not bread: and so it is with our spiritual bread; every body loves it, the very wicked loves it in a sort, though they seek it not: witness themselves, if we ask them. But there are 2. sorts of love, the one fruitful, which sinners have not, but may have; the other unfruitful, which sinners have, & will do them no good: imperfect love it is I grant, yet love it is; & so much our Saviour may seem to imply, when he said love God withal thy heart: 
Mat, 22.37.  as who should say it is love, and they may love God, though they love him not withal their whole heart: Premium virtutis honour, it is virtues due to be loved, and honoured, though it be not always embraced. Our love to virtue is commonly as children's love to bread, or I would it were but so in some; better to be but one step up then none at all. Children will call and cry for bread, but if any thing else comes, they hide it, or cast it away. But what do I speak of children, and those that be sick, or make strange of good life? they that be whole and sound, or have not lost all feeling, must love the means of their health, and will not refuse it altogether; or if they do, I hold their estate to be damnable.  
There is yet a fourth quality or property of bread; which is easiness to come by: and this accords also with our spiritual bread. It is easy to be had both in respect of the means which every one may have that will, as also in respect of itself, that is every where to be sold: our means is our money, and our money (as I said before) is our will, and thirsty desire after it: God asketh no other price of us. Let no man complain that he hath not where withal; our good God hath provided enough for the poorest that is, to buy a kingdom; though not enough always to buy a cow. If the business were a money matter, the poor could not be virtuous, nor have share in our heavenly food. The Gospel tells us that where our treasure is, 
Mat. 6.  there is our heart: but I think it is true both ways; where our mind & love is, there is our money: our love is the best treasure, and we may furnish ourselves richly with it (if we list) out of our own Treasury: Have we no money? let us coin it out of our own hearts, and we shall find plenty. He that hath least, hath a self to give; and he that hath most, can give no more: and if we would know who sells it us, it is God that sells, 
S. Aug.  and God is every where to take our price; he is at every occasion, and at every need of ours, to take our moeny. Come occasion of sickness, or mischance to us, he is at hand to sell us patience. Come occasion of misery, or want in our poor neighbour, he is ready to sell us the Bread of pity. Come occasion of quarrel or falling out, he proffers us charity, so we draw our purse wide enough. Be we fallen into temptation? he tenders us strength enough to overcome it. Are we in sin? he meets us presently with remorse, if we give him but reason for it. These and a great deal more are the holy Bread he gives us at all needs, and all assays, and he meets us mercifully at our own door with all; we need not send so far for it, as to the next market town: and thus much for the fourth property.  
Now to these I could add a fift; and that is such a one, as a man would think were ill, yet is not ill, but only with evil using it. There is no surfeit so hurtful to our body, as that of Bread, Omnis Saturatio mala, panis autem pessima. If the stomach be charged with any thing else but bread, it will recoil and put it up. Bread not so, but lies clumping together like lead, neither digesting itself, nor suffering other thing to digest. And this is also manifest in our Bread of life; where pride or weariness bears down our heart, and plunges it in time into the pit of Apostasy. Gins with zeal, and ends with coldness: gins with too much, and ends with too little: gins hotly, and hath not grace to hold out. Was incrassatus, & dilectus, 
Deut. 32.  and at length recalcitravit, presumes in own strength, and turns up the heel against God, and all goodness. Physicians say the finer the bread is, the more dangerous is the surfeit. And even so it is with heavenly food, by our own perverseness. And therefore this made Angels Devils when they fell once, this lost Saul a kingdom, overthrew Solomon, and a multitude since to our very days, without all remedy and cure. How many do we know in the world, that knew Gods will, and were in good practice of it, yet now are given over and left to themselves. They left off first one good exercise, than another; and by little and little all, or very near all: time and temptation brought them to it, and weariness of well doing. And this exceeds all other kind of sin, that happily may find remedy when the passion is once over. This passion is never over, lies heavy on the stomach like dough: will neither void upward at the mouth, since they cannot forget what they have heard and read; nor concoct in the liver, since shame is gone that should give it colour and entertainment. Set all the Aquavitae before them that is in the Gospel; they took a surfeit of it once, and now will do them no good. Set Rosa-solis before them, or waters of hottest spirit, all is in vain: these were so lately their common drink, that now at a need, it will not warm their heart. They are grown to very insensibility by their own pertinacity, and if God touch them not extraordinarily, they are passed all recovery.  
But by all these properties of bread, ye see now by reason, as before by authority, how fitly our heavenly food is here called Bread by our holy Prophet. And our speech hath not been only of words and terms, but also of effects, and substance, and true worth of it indeed. For first it nourisheth our soul as Bread doth our body. Secondly, it makes the purest blood, even the blood of Martyrs and Saints. Thirdly, how it is loved of all that love themselves as they should do, and gives honour to the possessors of it. Fourthly, 
Esay 55.  how good cheap we come to it, venite, emite absque argento saith our Prophet in the same place: come and buy without money all ye that will buy; & almost every occasion (we meet withal) sells it us. Lastly, we see how dangerous it is, and how ill favoured we look in God's sight, if we leave this diet, and content ourselves with worse. We grew fat and fed daintily at his table, and if a fat man fall, he hath much ado to rise again. By all which we may see as in a glass, what manner of thing this heavenly food is we fly from daily, and list not buy. Food I say in a word, food in worth; a worth not to be valued by the worthiest things in the world; not by diamonds, nor yet by a diadem, and a whole diadem were well given for it, if it could not be had without. All the world is so base and vile to it, that all together will not buy the least piece of true virtue.  
And therefore amongst other our spiritual breads aforesaid, that nourish, feed, and beautify our soul: I may not omit to commend unto you here most especially and particularly our Sacramental bread, 
joh. 6.  the body and blood of Christ, which he gave and spilled on the cross for the life of the world; and which it may be was principally intended by our holy Prophet in this place. And I do not commend it to you now for the praise of it, but for the the use of it; the one being beyond my power to perform worthily; the other being in your power to practise proffitably: ye have price enough in your purses, as I told you, and I would wish you to buy of it often. Let not once a year content you, which the Church doth bind ye to once a month in act, and every day in desire, is little enough for those, that know the sweet of it. Little enough I say if we have a lively faith, and have tasted how good it is.  
But woe be to us. We apprehend it not, and therefore we buy it no faster. We feel not the operation of it, and therefore we neglect it. It is to be lamented with many tears, how careless we be and almost insensible in this point, as will soon be seen by us, if we take not heed betimes. We are like to a sea wall, that must be always repairing; which if we be not by this holy Sacrament, we shall go every day decaying further from heaven; every gust of wind, and sea will make a breach upon us, and every little temptation will surround us. It is God's work to repair us, and not man's. And if we will be virtuous by ourselves, or honest of ourselves, and think a Sacrament but an idle ceremony; the next news will be of us, that we have neither virtue at all in us, nor scarce common honesty. All that be faithful know what they receive, but all take not delight in it, because they know not the benefit of it: yea more than this, let us call and cry to them never so loud, that they will taste often of it, and try the good of it, as they will do by some thing which is hard, or harsh enough to them at the first, but with use made pleasing: yet in this heavenly Bread they will not do it, nor force themselves a whit to love it, because it pleaseth not sense.  
This noble Sacrament hath many good things in it, and the Ancients have never done praising it, and extolling it, even out of their own feeling. I have read much, but I read no Doctor like the Doctor of Doctors, Christ himself, who best could tell what good we receive by it. He hath told us in two words as much as shall be needful at this time, 
joh. 6.  in me manet, & ego in eo, He that eateth my flesh and drinketh my blood, shall dwell in me, and I in him. To dwell in him (saith Saint Augustine) is to be a piece, 
Tract. 27. in joh.  or member of him. To be in him, is to be one body with him. And as Saint chrysostom saith, 
Hom. 60.  non fide tantum, sed ipsa re nos suum corpus efficit, He doth incorporate us unto him, not only by faith, but in very deed, as much to say; we do not only think it, and believe it; but our very soul doth also feel it, and find it to be so, and glorieth in it, for that we are made all one with so great a Majesty.  
Truly, there is no two can be one, so, as we with God, by this heavenly Bread received: not the nearest friends that are, not the greatest lovers in the world, not Angels, and Seraphins; yet we are one with God, by receiving of God. What should we fear? whom should we dread on earth? 
Rom. 8.  The blessed Apostle saith, If God be for us, who can be against us: how much more may we say it, if God be not only for us, but in us: for so he saith.  
Et ego in eo, and I in him; which words Saint Augustine expoundeth also very well in the same place, how God is in us. He told us before, how we dwell in him: now he tells us, how he dwells in us. He dwells in us, saith he, as in his temple, or place dedicated to his service: not content with stately temples and goodly buildings made with hand, walled with stone, 
3. King. 7.  covered with lead on the outside, with gold, and all that is precious on the inside; large, fair, and wide, to receive a multitude. Not thus content I say, but makes his chapel of ease in our hearts, his tabernacle in our breasts, his privy chamber, or closet in our bosoms, to sit with us, to confer with us, and as it were to solace with us in private: Et ego in eo. How is this I in him? not in a general sort as God is every where; but in particular, as he was in salomon's temple, when his Ark of Testimony was brought in. 
3. King. 8.  Impleverat domum domini gloria domini, there we read a Cloud entered, and filled the house with glory. Hear, not a Cloud, or shadow this ego in eo, but the Sun itself comes in, and fills us indeed with glory.  
These be great matters I speak of, and we may not slip them out, nor let them slip from us lightly. To be all one with God, not with earthly kings; to be united with God, not with Angels, or Archangels; to be the temple of God, not a palace for a Prince; to be a resting place for jesus, not a couch of gold for Ashuerus. Who can tell what glory this is to us, what a privilege, what an advancement in the sight of the whole heavenly warfare? even greater than any Prince in the world can ever bestow on us, though it were to set us in a throne by him.  
Et ego in eo, and I in him, saith God himself. Who can hear these words drowsily, as though they were but words, and belonged not unto us? many a horse knows when his master is on his back, and will show it by his carriage: are not we better than horses? who can hear these quickening words, and starts not out of a dead sleep? who hears ego in eo, and aspires not to have that ego in him often, with often receiving? and when he hath received, who can sin wilfully that day, or soon after? 
3. Reg. 19.8  Elias walked forty days in the strength of one loaf; how much more may we hold out in the strength of this heavenly morsel, until the next time we come to receive it? who cannot forget and forgive, that carries the Lord of mercy in his bosom? who can wrong his neighbour in word or deed, and carries the rightful judge in his own body? who can harbour an evil thought in his soul, that hath made his soul the altar of God? who can delight in unclean talk, that hath made his mouth an entrance into this temple? who can think of nothing but buying and selling in this temple, that is the temple himself of him that made it?  
Et ego in eo. How is God in us? is it as a comer, and goer, and as a passenger only? No: but as a dweller or inhabiter; for so the word manet signifies. As one in a manner that left heaven, to dwell in the world; hath left the world to dwell in us. A noble possession keeper, a noble protector of all we have, if we can hold him. By this being of God in us, we shall not look to prophecy, or do miracles, or great wonders in the world, which are more for others good, than our own. But all that is sure to better our souls, we shall be sure to have. God will never see us want happiness. We are possessed of God with receiving of God, and we are often possessed with receiving him often. And if it be miserable to be possessed of evil and wicked spirits; how happy is it then to be possessed of God, who brings all good things with him. And lastly, if this temple of his, this body of ours do chance to perish, or be wronged, or ruined for his greater glory & our trial in tribus diebus Suscitabit illud, 
joh. 2.  he will build it again quickly much fairer than it was. There be of you here, that have tasted the good of this bread of travelers, and often receiving it; it hath made you hardy, and resolute in your business; and to such as have died in the field, it hath been their Viaticum, as the fathers call it, to bring them to God. Such viaticum or voyage provision God send us near our death, if we die on a sudden.  
Ye have hitherto heard what necessity there is of this heavenly bread, and some part of the benefit of it, and what cause our Prophet had to cry out upon us as he doth, for misbestowing what we have, so vilely, and not upon these breads, for heaping unworthy things in this world, and neglecting the worthiest, that will stick by us for ever. If the Prophet were now living, and saw our grossness in this behalf, he would thunder more plainly against us, than he doth. Behold he is yet living in his writings and spirit. Let not the letter lie dead in the book: take it and beat it in a mortar: Bruise it well, and powne it into spice, that the fragrancy of it may fill every corner of your house: make a sheaf of wheat of it, and thrash it out for a grist to serve at your board, and feed your soul.  
It follows in the same place; your labours, and not in saturity, 
Esay 55.  or fullness. Now, since we have done with the bread of travelers; we ought of right to speak next of the bread of Angels, (which was the other part of my division) before we leave bread, & go to anew matter. Howbeit because we have reserved this of Angels to be spoken of last; we will break order a little, and go forward first with our Prophets own words as they lie; and the other bread we shall find opportunity for (God willing) at an other time.  
Why spend ye your silver (saith he) and not in bread; your labour, and not in saturity? He said before, your Silver, now your labour. He said before, and not in bread; now and not in Saturity. Before he found fault with misspending our goods; now, for wasting our bodies, for so is to be understood this word labour, which is as much to say, as toil of body and mind. Gods curse it was upon Adam, that the earth and creatures should rebel against him; and nothing he should have without labour, and toil; 
Gen. 3.  in labour comedes; If thou wilt eat, thou must labour for it: and in the sweat of thy brow shall be thy food. He hath shown before, how prodigally we spend our substance upon every thing, but that we should. Our will upon selfe-liking; our wit upon fancies; our understanding upon things fading, and transitory; our learning (if we have any) upon sensuality; our style or tongue in setting forth a lie, assoon as a true tale; our health in pastime and play, and all that we have in idle vanities for the most part, with little respect of God, or of his holy service, for which only we were created; insinuating unto us, that if it were not in bread, or in order to God, it must needs be in one of these. Now comes he to our bodies also, and the actions thereof; how we bestow our strength, how our labour; how our hands and feet, how our senses: and finding them all no better bestowed then the other were; that is (to say) in hope of ease, and yet no true ease; in hope of pleasure, and yet no true pleasure; in hope of filling, and yet empty; in hope of Saturity, and yet no true Saturity; he asketh this question as before of our money, and other outward things, so now of our labours, and cares of life, saying: why bestow ye all these things as ye do, and not in Saturity?  
Saturity ye must think is as much to say, as fullness of contentment: It is as much to say, as I have enough Lord, Satis est, I ask no more in this life. It is written of holy Ephraim and others, 
Luk. 22. Plat. lib. 3.  that were much addicted to prayer and meditation; that they found such extraordinary comfort therein sometimes; that they broke forth into these words, saying; Satis domine, enough Lord; as much to say, as hold thy hand Lord, I have enough. Let me not have heaven before I come there, I have enough. And this is not only their contentment, that are perfect; but it is every good bodies, that loves virtue, and delights in prayer, and although he have not extraordinary comforts, nor can expect those rare illuminations which some have had: yet if he use but an ordinary devotion in his ordinary course of prayers, and resign himself wholly to God; he shall find (no doubt) so much quickening hope, that he shall rise from his knees very contentedly with Satis domine, and such complete satisfaction, as in his humility, and acknowledgement of his unworthiness, he would think is much more, than he could expect.  
I confess, and let this be our ground, that there is no absolute content in this life, all our content, even a Saints content upon earth; is but in enigmate, or like the sun in a cloud upon a gloomy day: and therefore holy David saith, Satiabor cum apparuerit gloria tua he saith not Satior in the present, 
Psal. 16.  but Satiabor in the future tense: Signifying hereby; that there is no satiety in this life, no perfect filling, or saturity here; it must be in heaven, not here; it is in vision of God, not in fruition of creatures; we are here but in expectation, there in possession; here in hope, and promise, there in deed and performance; here in fight, there in victory; here like hunters, and soldiers, there we divide the spoils. The soldier in his fore-age is glad of any thing he can get, and saith Satis. The falconer likewise, or hunter, is well pleased for the time at a poor man's house, and saith Satis for it, as if he were at home in richer fare. And this is the best of our cases here. We are all soldiers in this magno campo, 
judi. 1.  or great battle of the world. We are huntsmen in this wild forest, or chase of beasts, and savages, our own appetites, and inordinate desires; which sometimes we kill, and sometimes they escape our hands. But in the time of this our hunting, we are glad many times to meet with a fountain in stead of a tavern to cool our thirst; a little hope I say, in stead of a possession, a fervent thought now and then instead of a present embrace: and this is Satis, and sweet to us, until we come home at night, that is (to say) in the end of our life, to our heavenly dwelling; where we shall have indeed, not only our true Satis, but Satis superque, and shall have no end of enough.  
I must confess I say that the life of the virtuous in this world is in hunger and thirst, and in a longing after heaven: yea all their life is in defection, and fainting; for so saith David, concupiscit, & deficit anima mea in atria domini, 
Psal. 83.  my soul doth lust, and faint withal, until it enter the house of God. Yet what of this? is there therefore no contentment in it? See I pray what he says in the very same place, 
ibid.  and verse? My heart and flesh (saith he) have leapt for joy, that I shall come to my loving God. Lo here how he answers the matter himself; he fainteth, and yet he exulteth: he was ready to die, and yet he leapeth for joy. And so in another place, Mine eyes begin to fail me, 
Psal. 68  while I hope in my God. See here a notable Sympathy in an Antithesis, a concord as it were in a holy discord, a fainting and leaping both at one time, a defection and exultation both at a breath, a swooning and reviving all in a verse, all at an instant. So as, let our discomfort be never so great, being for God, and in a longing after him: such discomfort can be no true discomfort, that is so full of comfort; no true dullness or heaviness, that is so quick with child of so great hopes, or of so hopeful an inheritance.  
It far exceeds the comfort of Jacob, who thought it little to serve seven years for fair Rachel, being sure to have her in the end. Our enjoying also lies in our wills: We are as sure of it as we are sure of our wills; fire and water cannot part us, if we love and like. 
Rom. 8.  What is there in the world should beat us from this hope? can tribulation? can poverty, or any thing else? Yea, do not crosses increase our comforts, as water increaseth fire? 
Prou. 15.  These be the comforts that Solomon calls judge conuivium, or all day feasting. 
2. Pet. 1.  How can we be sorrowful in a feast full of harmony? To this content or satiety, doth Saint Peter invite you, saying Sat agite, that is (to say) Satis agite. Do as much as lies in you for your contentment, which ye may gather by him, can no where else be had, but in a moral certainty of your vocation, and election, and your true concurring therewithal. This the comfort of comforts, and well head of true content, or highest top of our Satis in this life. What life can be in sorrow, that is endowed with this? and they that have this, whatsoever they be, or have been, may joy and exult at all times. Let miseries come like hail upon us, yet can we not be unhappy, as long as we have this. Let our estate for life be what it will be, so we be sure of our inheritance: our perpetual hope of this, and our will still concurring with our hope, is it that nourisheth so, as, we can ask no more in this life, wheresoever we become; in pain or pleasure, among friends or enemies, in sleep or awake, in travel or at rest, in plenty or penury, peace or war, in business or at quiet; still our Satis attends us, and we carry content where we go, in triumph about us.  
And these comforts if we will embrace them as we be offered them, are the earnest pennies that tie us to God, and him to us, unless we go from it first ourselves. These our claim to a future inheritance, or a possession keeping against the devil and his angels for the places they had, and lost in heaven, and we must have after them. This the Satis domine that holy David felt in his soul and spirit, saying, 
Psal. 76.  Renuit consolari anima mea, memor fui dei, & delectatus sum. So delighted he to think of his part he had in God, that he found himself unable to hold the comfort of it. Now what comfort is there abroad in the world, that they will say to God Satis domine with the Saints aforesaid; or Renuit consolari anima mea with David? is there any will say, Lord thou givest me to much? Forbear. Will they not say rather give me more Lord, I have not enough? I have no contentment yet for want of more? This is therefore that heart's ease, this is the contentment and satiety our Prophet speaks of here, and finds fault that we labour and toil as we do, and not in this Saturity.  
My good friends, I have told you in brief, what saturity it is, that he meaneth, and is truly in God's servants, and no where else to be found. Will any man contend with me, and say it is in the world; it is where riches are, it is where pleasures are, it is with kings and mighty folk? I cannot deny, but such persons have contentment. They do what they will, and their pleasures are provided for them without their trouble. They are tied to no rule, tied to no law, keep no hours, day nor night. If they be sick, the Physician is at their elbow. What should I speak of riches? they may wallow in gold, if they will. What of fair houses and dainty gardens well set, and planted with plumbs, and fruits of the best. None to contradict them in their desires, none to cross them in any sort. I speak not of inferior persons, whose content (it may be) is not, nor can be so absolute as these. And yet as great content they may seem to have in their less, and meaner estate, as the other in their grand superfluities: yet few of them can say Satis, or think they have enough, as devout people can: but seek for more, labour for more, are unquiet for more the most of them, as if they had nothing: yea I have known some confess, that for wanting a little of their wills or wishes, it hath troubled them more, then if they had nothing. And of this there can be no other true reason, but that they be no true contentments, but false and deceitful, as I could easily prove, if my purpose were to insist on it.  
This alone may suffice for this point, that the heathen Philosopher, who reached no higher than morality, saw as much as I tell you, and found no true contentment but in Philosophy, & wisdom, and in virtuous contemplation. In respect whereof, he contemned all basser matters; pleasures they held both counterfeit and foul. And if any man think them truly delightful, 
eth. 10. dial. de rep.  the fault is in his corrupted mind (saith Aristotle) that looks no higher. And Plato likewise will have no true content in riches or pleasures, and they that fight and scratch for them, as they do (saith he) are like beasts that feed downward and creep on their bellies, and never look up as men should, towards their true contentment. Thus saith he; and he makes no reckoning of riches; and the greatest pleasures he holds but shadows of pleasures, 
Stesichorus  as a very ancient Poet was wont to say, whom he there avoucheth for this purpose thus.  
For Helen fair, as Troyans' thought,  
But not true Helen, Troyans' fought.  
And to this effect they all agree most constantly, not swerving a jot one from an other, and by no other light, then by natural reason; that there is no true Satis in any of all these; and therefore no marvel if it cannot be found among them that be sensual, and more than purblind of Soul, as most people are.  
And yet to come nearer our prophet's meaning in this place, and to make a full benefit of it for our greater good; let us search a little further, since we have said what Saturity it is he speaketh of here, who and what they be also that labour thus (as he saith) without it, and who they be I say that take so much pains, and have not their fill.  
We know a great many in the world, that as they have not their fill greatly; so take they but little pains or labour for it. And therefore surely our Prophet meaneth not any of these, because they be not of those that labour. They live by other body's labours, and do nothing themselves. They are idle and lazy, and will be troubled with nothing, but look that every thing should be put into their mouths: whether our Prophet means these or no, I must give them a touch by the way, because they swarm so in our country. Oh how far do we degenerate from our Ancestors. Our nobility and gentry for the most part are corrupted with idleness. Be it spoken without offence. Unless they be Magistrates, officers, or housekeepers, students, soldiers employed, merchants, tradesmen, or husbandmen; I dare boldly say it, for the most part of them, they have so little care of bestowing their time well, that they were better hold the plough then be so nobly idle as they be. They cannot tell at night, what good they have done that day, as every labourer can. But where idle company leads them, there they go, there they play, there they wrangle or make merry, lose their time, lose their money and means, and make themselves business to shift for more. Most of our young folk make fools of themselves, that are otherwise well enough endued.  
Is it not a shame to see how intemperate they be of their diet, how inconstant in their hours, how unstable in their actions, how wavering in their gate, how new fangled in their apparel, how fond and wild in their conversation, how affectat in their words, how heathen-like every way, and ignorant in all Christian duties? one takes it of another like a disease; every upstart or country lad will be as proud, and idle as the best, if he come in place, and can hold up his nose aloft, carry a fescue in his mouth, and answer not a word to any man without three or four askings. Their exercise is to sleep long, and to meditate on their mistress till almost dinner time. Then to Tobacco, then to dinner somewhere, then to a play, or a Tobacco-house, or else in pilgrimage from one idle body to another. He spends his time rarely, if he take a vial in hand and sing to it; then to supper, then to gaming or Tobacco again till midnight, or other like dalliance until they be weary.  
His books be Amades, or Ariosto, or an Arcadia, or if these be to high for him, a play book or some such fancy as the world is full of, to while himself withal, for want of company. Much like my lady's dog, that doth nothing but eat, drink, and sleep, or lie in a lap. Sometimes he barks, then to his cushion again, then up into the bed, than down again to the fire, then whines to the lap again: so fares it with our idle folks, void of learning, void of resolution, void of grace, or very little stored with it. Holding it most ridiculous to speak of Christ, or holy things, unless it be to swear by them: seldom praying but for a fashion, imitating Angels in nothing but in celerity, who shall say fastest: begin perhaps with domine ne in furore and within two or three snaps after, are at valde velociter. Quickly in bed, long in rising, pruning, and making ready, given to no good exercise, but ease and fatness until they be grey and ready for a grave.  
Besides this, every one hath his humour, and is led by the nose with it like a bear; gives way to all passions, and that is valiant with him. I have seen some nero's and Vitellij amongst them for spending, and ingurgitating. I think they would spend seven millions (if they had it) in few months space, 
Suet.  as the one of these did; or a thousand sorts of fish at a meal, and as many of foul as the other did, or be always inventing new pleasures, as both did, if it were not for very shame. For I make no scruple to judge the worst of them by the abundance of the heart, that breaks out at their tongues ends, and at their deboysht fashions unrecoverable. But these be the worthiest, they may seem to follow, and none else. They will seem to be brave minded, and yet will follow the basest.  
They might learn if they pleased of that noble Roman Sertorius, 
Plut.  to hate their own vile conditions, and live more like men. He was fellow with Princes, though in banished estate. And he was sought unto by kings. It will disparaged no man to follow him. Metellus refused single combat with him, and Pompey twice driven out of the field: yet was he humble to all, dear to his followers, pitiful to his enemies, chaste of body, sober of carriage, and might not abide a dissolute body, that were always talking of women, and wantonness. Another like to him was Agesilaus a grecian Prince, who although he were amorous, yet modest in word, and action; content with any mirth but impudicities; and if the contrary had been offered, he gave it a proud repulse, or a deaf ear. How many examples be there of such in our books, and how many noble christians both dead, and alive, very imitable in this kind. But ours had rather follow Hannibal; 
Just.  and so let them; for there was not a more worthy for all qualities belonging to a gentleman, nor any more sober or continent than he, or that took more pains, or that less loved idleness than he. Our country men, many of them are great readers, and small followers. They scorn to be ignorant of any thing, yet make no use of it, but lip wit. I had rather see a still practiser, than a loud speaker, that is ready to take the tale out of a man's mouth, whatsoever he speaks of. He that reads much outwardly, and reforms little inwardly, is like one that delights in a pleasant wood, and yet doth nothing when he is there, but make rods for himself.  
Fie upon idleness, the mother of sin, and effeminateness both in high and low.  

Queritur Aegistus quare sitfactus adulter? 
ovid.   
In promptu causa est: desidiosus erat.   

The question was asked: why loved Aegistus luxury?  
Answer was made, Because he lived idly.   
And therefore they that have any goodness, will hate to live idly. They shall have time enough to be idle in their graves; but while we be living let us always be doing. When Eumenes was so straightly besieged by Antigonus, 
Plut.  that his people had no room to do any thing, they were afraid of nothing more than of idleness; their enemy troubled them not so much without the walls, as idleness within. But their worthy captain provided for them very well, devised new exercises of strength, and motion, such as their little room would allow of, either in his hall, or in some other corners. And some he made overseers of the rest. The very horses they would not let be idle, but kept them in breath, with hanging them in such sort, that they could scarce touch ground with their forefeet, and then belaboured them so with stick, and voice; that they sweat, and groaned again. Others walked them, till they were cool. Others ground barley for them. There was not a gentleman that refused to do any thing to keep him from idleness.  
Idleness is the corrupter of all good manners, 
Plut. in mor.  no virtue hath possession (saith one Philosopher) where a man is not in some good action. Idleness hath been equally punished heretofore with murder or theft. Others made it but banishment; others made it finable. Atheus persicus made them worse than horse rubbers, 
in Licurgo. Strobeus ser. 42.  that were idle. Lycurgus' provided so, that none could be idle; all persons had enough to do in their place. Amongst the Lucanes in Italy, a man lost his money by the laws, that he had lent to an idle, or a voluptuous body. 
Plin. lib. 6.  Amasis' likewise a most wise king who reigned four and forty years over the Egyptians, made a law upon pain of death, 
Plut. in Sympo.  that every man should once a year give an account of his life, and actions, and how he maintained himself: and he appointed Pretours of purpose to take this account. 
Sueto.  This law did Augustus like so well of, that he made the like in Rome. And Solon long before him brought the same to Athens, to root out of the city unprofitable weeds, that suck out the juice and foison of the earth, and bring nothing again; take the fruit of it, and give no fruit again. The ox feeds by us, and gives us his flesh to eat; the cow feeds, and gives sweet milk for it; the sheep feeds, and gives us clothing to our backs; and our horse carries us for his meat. Only our idle bodies take all they can, give nothing again; and since they will not be their own law, it is great pity, that the law of Amasis is not amongst them.  
If I should tell you more stories in this kind; haply I should please you, more than myself. It is not the Roman nor the Grecian, or Spartan that I seek for: but the true Christian. 
Mat. 11.  Woe be to thee Corozain, as our Saviour saith: so woe be to thee so idle a Christian whatsoever. For if Christ had walked the Egyptian streets, if Christ had been preached out of the Roman pulpits, if Pagans had had such a mark to shoot at, as we in the eyes of our faith have; had it been said to them, 
Mat. 20.  why stand ye here idly, and have a world of your own to think of in heaven, which will not be had with out thinking, and labouring? they would not have needed such laws as I speak of, nor would have stood gaping so idly about them, as we do, and care not which end goes forward.  
And therefore o ye flower of our nation that are here together, the hope of your friends, & not the meanest portion of your country's expectation. Whose ancestors were not idle when then they carried the lilies far and near, and extended your borders so wide, and large; nor idle when they defended your frontiers, built your cities, towers, towns, castles, and Churches without number; not idle in so many foundations, and noble monuments, which they have left behind them to the glory of God, and honour of our nation; not idle when they bred you, and brought you up to that you now be. And yourselves also not idle hitherto, either in your times of march, or days of truce. Nay, I know not whether any in the world were in better business than you; not scorning the meanest offices in the field, or camp; or about your own persons, when ye had others to do it for you. Yet somewhat ye would be doing always with your own horse, or armour, or drying your own powder, or accommodating your pike, or picking and pruning your petronel, observing ever so willingly your leaders voice; and serving God continually in word, and thought. Let not this idle canker (I say) come near your doors hereafter, or set any footing where you have to do. Fly it, shun it, avoid it, as you would a house that hath the plague in it.  
Take heed I beseech you of this unprofitable idleness, that will be ready to assault you when you come home. And beware no less of idle hangers on. I am very unprofitable myself; but rather than I would be as some are, I wish myself a stone, or a piece of wood, that somewhat might be made of me. There is not a stick of wood, but will make somewhat. Either a bow, or a bedde-staffe, or a top, or a tyle-pinne. But our idle bodies serve for nothing. They are neither good for God, nor the commonwealth, nor themselves. Not for God, but to practise his judgements upon. Not for the commonwealth, but to eat up their provision before it be spoiled, and to drink up their pots by yards, or dozen if that be good. Neither are they for themselves; that put not out their wit, nor that they have to the most, no, not to any advantage for their eternal good. Knowing well enough that they may not live here always. One day the doleful bell must ring out for them, their eyelids closed up, their face cast over with a cloth, their body laid out upon cold boards, the soul wandering the whilst in a very strange country, dark and dismal, not a man or angel to speak for it, nor any to bid welcome, but a sort of misshapen and angry monsters.  
Idleness will be pitifully paid for at that day, and so I so I leave them. If they have nothing else to do, let them be humble, and learn their Catechism by heart again; or go to some heavenly broker, as they went in the gospel to Saint john Baptist; or as they in the Acts, that came to the Apostles, to know what they should do, or how they might put out with safety any ability they had. Yea the Scripture there says more. 
Acts 2.  That they were compuncti cord, their hearts (as it were) bled within them, when they heard of their duties. Oh that your hearts would bleed likewise, though I be but a worm that speak to you at this time, for lack of a better. Yet I do wish that this duty of yours were as deeply conceived by you, as it deeply concerns you; to the end that ye ask always as they did, quid faciemus, what shall we do? or what amends shall we make for time past? how shall we bestow ourselves hereafter? how shall we spend our idle hours? how the forenoon, how the afternoon, that no more time may be lost? Truly it will not hurt a man to ask; neither will it be troublesome to any friend that loves you, to resolve you. But yet if my counsel be not pleasing to some, I would wish them yet, to do as the great Turk doth, (I would it were the worst he did) to profess some mechanical art, to keep him from idleness. This man maketh rings for bowe-men, his father made arrows well. And if a gentleman can paint or limb, or imborder for his exercise, or have skill of gardening, and planting either fruit or fuel, or make, or mend any thing that belongs to himself, or his horse, it will not disparaged him.  
And this I speak the rather before you that be Soldiers, because your course of life I see is very active, or very idle. Your skill for the most part goes no further than Mars. Ye have learned nothing else here; and if Mars have no employment for you at home, ye will fall to worse courses; which I would be loath to hear of any of you, and yet idleness will dispose you to it, whether ye will or no. Grace hairs will grow upon you quickly, and ye shall not know for what. Bethink yourselves suddenly what course ye will take, to pass your time profitably, and to prevent the extreme evils that idleness brings. The Philosopher saith, there is no vacuum in rerum natura, from the top of heaven, 
Arist. phi.  to the centre, there is nothing void of some substance. And as the law of nature admits no emptiness, so let your manly nature allow of no idleness, but fill it up with good thoughts at the least, to keep out this idle vacuum.  
I have stood somewhat long upon your idle folks, and upon idleness, because it is the bane of commonweals, and ruin of most houses. And I would have both public, and private to take notice of their daily danger, which is sooner felt then avoided. Yet these be not they our Prophet speaks of, as I said before: for these be but idle, and take no pains; In labour hominum non sunt, 
Psal. 72.  they be no painetakers, but ease-takers. And he speaketh of those here, that labour and are always toiling about somewhat; and whom it seemeth he takes pity of, in that they travel, and sweat about such things, as give no true contentment, or security at all to their souls. There be two sorts of these, that take pains, and care in the world without this Saturity. The first is of them that labour, and yet eat not at all, for all their labour. They feed not of our Bread aforesaid, and therefore no marvel if they be not filled. The more one labours, the further off from filling, if he feed not. The other is of them that labour and feed, and yet they thrive not greatly, nor are filled. They tafte and feed (I say) of the Breads I spoke of in my first part; but they feed more sparingly then they need, having such plenty before them. And these be those our Prophet speaks of properly; that take pains about many things, when one thing only is necessary; labour so much for Transitories, 
Luk. 10.  that they are the weaker for it to things eternal.  
The first sort surely comes not within his meaning in this place, being notorious sinners, and such as labour for wicked ends. Of whom it may be said iam iudicati sunt, they have judgement of hell upon them already. And who be these but extortioners, and wringers, that care not how they get, so they get. Who else? but the proud, contentious, and malicious persons, men and women. Who else? the backbiter, tale-carrier, and makebate. Who else? drunkards and swearers, that do nothing but fret, and chafe, and make a noise; quarrelers also, and lascivious persons, & perpetual gamesters. None of these be saved almost without a miracle. For they will not so much as taste of any thing that should do them good. If they would but taste, haply they might have their fill at one time, or other. But they will none of it, and so I leave them also. It is neither these our Prophet speaks of, being in no way at all, no, not in the first step to Saturity: neither is it of idle bodies as I said before, because they labour not at all. It is the other sort only (as I take it) that is here intended, and meant; whose endeavours are for the most part to honestends, and their business commonly not unlawful.  
Such I say as have a desire to be saved and use means for it, but very coldly many times, and very confusedly. Coldly, because it is with fervour too little. Confusedly, because it is mixed, and interlaced, and overborne as it were with worldly contentments. Ye know, if dross & filth get into our veins, the blood will soon be tainted with it, and cannot give that nourishment it should; but turns to bad humours, & bring us to that plight, that although we feed with the best, yet we thrive not with the best. We look like men that should be hardy and strong, but we prove like women in the green sickness. We look pale and lean on it in God's sight, and not worth the ground we tread on. When we pray and our mind is fraught with other things; when we come to the sacrament, & put not away all rancour; what is this, but to sop our bread in the channel, or our meat in the dust of an old post, or to eat raw flesh, or to pour in water into our Aquavitae. I will not say but here is labour, and care, and means also used for the good of the Soul. But it can never be fat thus, nor have Saturity. It will live, though it be wan and pale; it will breath, though it be sallow and green; it will go forward though faintly; it will thrive a little, but not much. 
Sophocles.   
Labour labori laborem imponit, as they say. One labour begets another in this world, one labour must follow, and perfect other, or else all is imperfect. There is labour in tilling, labour in sowing, labour in weeding, labour in reaping, inning, and thrashing it out; after this, it must be ground, and set on our board. If any of these labours be missing, there comes no fullness, or saturity of it. It will be labour without saturity. What security have husband men to mow their grass, and never make it; to reap their wheat, and to leave it in the field to weather, and birds? What security find merchants in loading, freighting, launching, and putting into haven, if they leave all on ship board when they have done, for every body to steal, and bring them not into their warehouse? And this is that our Prophet speaks of here, our labour must be contimando: he inveighes not here against notorious sinners, or damned crews; Such as the world is full of, and the Scriptures are full against them in other places. But the Prophecies here against them, that are in their way to heaven, and make no more haste in it; will be put by with every toy; go forward one day, backward another; do well one day, ill another; amend one day, fall to it again an other; have good meat before them, and eat no better of it: eat well perhaps, but heed not what they swallow with it.  
They forbear sin what they can, but watch not their bad inclinations; are good to the poor, but revengeful to their enemy, are given to fasting, and prayer, yet are wayward and testy to their lives end. Others be mild, but negligent withal; stout but stiff withal, wise but opinative, forward but inflexible, obedient but against their wills; praise worthy but glorying in it. It will prove inutilis labour. I fear me in the end. And their work may turn to froth for all their labour in a great many; or else so full of trash, as the blood of Christ can do no more than wash it away. There can be no virtue or goodness in us without labour, no patience or perseverance without labour, no withstanding temptations, or prayer fruitful without labour; & if we labour in none of these, it is asigne that we havenone of these.  
Now what should I speak of zeal and fervour of devotion, which ought to be our wings to heavenward? whether be these fled? What wicked fiend, or accursed fortune of ours hath blown them away? What coast, or foreign country hath ravished them from us; that we may go seek them, and fetch them home again, and make much of them, when we have them? and will this be done without labour also? I would to God we saw, what is yet to be seen, and daily comes to our ears by merchants, and travelers of the furthest parts of the earth? What love and zeal those Paynims bear both young and old of both sexes to their gods, that are no gods. It would make us ashamed of our extreme coldness, and indevotion to our true God; if we saw it. Yea what will they be, and how zealous, when they come to be converted (as it may be) since they are now so devout to Idols or Pagode's as they call them, the handy works of men? There were to be seen in the old testament, 
Psal. 105.  that offered their children to sacrifice in their blind zeal. There be now in the Indieses that sacrifice themselves daily to please their god, and they think it no labour because we speak of labour, nor stick at any pains that can be, in their wicked service. Haply ye will not believe what I shall tell you, but there be thousands living to testify it: neither do I speak it, as fit for us to follow, yet not unfit to make use of; that we may learn to labour the good we may, by them that labour in evil which they may not.  
Of certain they are there so full of devotion, & the people of all sorts are so obsequious to their Pagode's; 
Hist. Alex.  that the king of Cochine not long since holden for a prudent prince, and a man of notable government, left his government wholly, and in habit of a poor man, went a five years pilgrimage, to visit all the pagode's of India all alone unknown; where he endured much misery and sorrow before his return, and yet such comfort he took in it belike, that he began such another voyage afterward, but died in it.  
His successor likewise that followed him, took after him unfortunately. For being but of weak constitution, yet using great austerity to himself many hours in a day in his closet alone, with superstitious meditations, which were most hurtful to his health, he died within the year. Yet see his fervour. Upon a day the governor of Cochine advised him, and besought him, to have more care of his health, alleging the physicians opinions, that the long ceremonies, and much solitariness, which he used for prayer, would quickly hazard him, or cost him his life. Howbeit the king set light by any thing he could say; and told him further, that he made more reckoning of the least of his devotions to the Pagode's, then of an hundred thousand lives; all which if he had them, he would spend in their service. There be some kings and great Lords in the country, that for the reverence they bear to their Pagode's, they have little ones of gold hanging at their forehead, and do their devotions to them at their times, with great humiliation. And to the end they may not forget it, they have their pages of purpose, that have nothing else to do, but to put them in mind of their hours, and to name but the name of the pagode's, whereat the King will bow himself with great reverence. In the night time also, these pages awake their masters for the same cause.  
But that which exceedeth all admiration is a terrible feast, which they hold at Garcopa a little from Onor, on a certain day. And this is such a dreadful thing, that Christians are forbidden to go thither upon pain of excommunication. On this festival day, there is an infinite concourse of people to attend it. The Pagode with certain of the brahmin's comes forth in a chariot very richly set out, the wheels whereof are tired with Iron, as piercing and sharp as a razor. And as the chariot marches, there comes a number to offer their lives to the Pagode, and cast themselves on their knees in the lowliest manner they can, until by little and little they lie flat on the earth, just where the wheel must come over them, and cuts them all to pieces; and these be holden for Saints, as our Martyrs are with us.  
In the other parts of India about the borders of Choromandell, of Saint Thomas, and in other places likewise, the Pagode is carried upon men's shoulders; where the brahmin's that carry it make as though the god will go no further, and they not able to carry it further. And it may be that the Devil doth press them so hard, that they cannot stir indeed. Then come there many (that are never wanting at such a time) who stab themselves to death and there fall down before it. And yet the Pagode will not stir, until the number be full, as the devil or brahmin's would have it. And then they go forward to the temple again, well loaden with the spoil of those damned creatures both body and soul. Yet this they do, and think they do their god service in it. And shall arise no doubt in judgement against us. Who know the true God, and yet are so spiritless, and dull in his true service, as we be.  
There is no need of sliceing, and wounding ourselves as they do; yet it will not hurt us to leap out of a warm bed sometimes for a Pater noster while, either to encounter an ill thought assailing us, or to pray for them that have no where to lie, or for them that be in danger that night by sea, or land, or if we chance to hear a passing bell. God forbidden we should kill or misdiet ourselves with over much care; and yet to pinch ourselves a little for the poor, or for abating our flesh that it rebel not, are testimonies to our conscience that we fear, and love God. We will not leave our needful business at random; and yet we will take our times to talk with God in secret, or at public prayer and think long to be at it. If we have a charge, we may not neglect it; yet well may we think, that any act of devotion is more noble in itself, than the managing of a kingdom. We will not lie groveling a whole Sabbath till sun set, 
Psal. 6. Psal. 118.  as many jews do; yet let us not think much to labour in our prayer with groaning as king David did. And if we cannot do it seven times a day as he did, yet once a day or a week it were noble, and would profit us much to pray so, as if we should then die.  
It may be, ye think I impose too much upon ye now, when I thrust these things into matter of salvation. But mistake me not I beseech you. I know ye be stout men and valiant, and ye stand upon your gentry, but if ye be not good men also (as I think ye are) all your stoutness is nothing. He is a stout man, that is a good man, and I show you but some tokens how to know when ye are as you should be. It is true. Christ is our salvation and redemption. But how? Fac hoc & vives; 
Luk. 10.  somewhat there is must be done on our part. And it will not be done without Labour. We must decline from evil, and do good, and both these will cost labour. And if ye think these little things, that I have spoken of; ye must remember with all, what the Holy Ghost doth teach us: Qui spernit modica, paulatim decidet, 
Eccl. 9.19.  they that set light by little things, by little shall decay. Neither are they so little, as they can be done without labour. If we repent us of our sins; is this all? Saint Ambrose tells us, that he knew many repenters, but few that did the works that belongs to it. If we fast, is this enough? our Prophet tells us in another place, that our wills are found in our fastings. We labour not to weed out our own wills, 
Esay 58. 1. Cor. 5. 1. Reg. 16.  nor to sever our sour leaven from that which is pure. God looks not on the stoutness of our person, or highness of our work, but on our lowliness and meekness withal: and loves us more for one act of Mortification, then if we gained him thousands; yea although it were the whole kingdom of Turkey. One temptation well encountered, or passion overcome, is more glorious in his sight, than all the conquests of Julius Caesar, or the triumph of Aemilius. And this is the labour God requires of us, and I exhort ye to. This the labour our Prophet speaketh of, and hath Saturity. And the want of this Labour brings that heavy sentence upon us, which few do mark, or take note of. I beseech you mark what our Saviour saith to this purpose. 
Luk. 13.24  Multi querunt intrare (saith he) & non poterunt, Many shall seek to enter heaven and cannot. What a saying is this, that many shall seek to enter and cannot enter? whom will not such a sentence terrify, or not make him, or compel him to stir about this business, although he were half dead? but what is the reason of this sentence? No other but this. They seek and sit still. They go forward, but mend no pace; the bridegroom is come, and gone the whilst. They cannot abide to sweat at it, or take pains. They cry Domine, Domine, and will not put out their hand. The Labour is not hard, yea the burden light, and yet they will not lie under it. It is little more pains then to see a play: and yet they will not do the one, when they do the other daily. The Playhouse door is low, and narrow, and yet they stick not to stoop, and rend their clothes with crowding. It is beset with bills and halberds, and they may have a knock, and yet they fear nothing. They may lose their purses or somewhat else, and yet they will adventure. It will cost them money when they enter, and a great many sit uneasy for their money, or in danger of infection, and yet they weigh it not. Who labours for heaven thus? who seeks heaven so laboriously, fears no difficulty, scorns no disgrace, sets light by loss, or a blow, bids for the best place, and will have no nay until they be in it? They that seek heaven thus, shall be sure to enter. And they that seek it not thus; the sentence is ginen non poterunt, they do but go by, and look at the place; but they cannot go in, as our Saviour saith. And this may suffice for the second point, which was Labour and Saturity, whereby to stir you, and hasten you, in your way to heaven. There be two things belong to haste. The one is to know the readiest way: the next to lose no time in our speed, if the matter be of importance. There is nothing imports us more, than our heavenly inheritance. And I have shown the next way thither out of the Prophet Esay by holy virtuous life, hearing, reading, and often receiving, which I proved to be understood by this word Bread, in respect of all the properties of Bread that are found therein. The worth of which bread hath been declared unto ye, as also what Saturity and true contentment is; and who they be that labour, and come short of it. I have not been troublesome some to you, to inveigh against vanities, or love of the world. Ye have store of books concerning that matter. I have not declaimed of worldly contentments, how far they be from true contentments; yea rather thorns, 
Mat. 13. Eccl. 1.  as our Saviour calls them; or affliction of spirit as Solomon terms them. Every sermon ye hear is full of this Argument, whereunto I refer you. And therefore if ye should like to love them, or set your heart on them, being so base as they be; in vain ye hasten forward, that go so clean backward. In vain ye fly upward with so heavy a clog at your heel; and in vain do I persuade you to make haste, that will not do a way first, what will hinder you of your journey? Have ye riches? love them loosely, & part with them willingly, if need be. Have ye pleasures? use them moderately in godly fear. Have ye honour, and pre-eminence? keep watch with yourselves over pride, and disdain; and let all that know you, make account of you, that ye be as humble, as honourable. And so, if ye can carry your contentments in this sort, as God be the practical ground, in whom alone is our true Satis, or contentment; then are ye undoubtedly in your true, and perfect way to heaven, and nothing remaineth now, but that ye make haste, and take comfort in it. Howbeit for that in our best actions, and endeavours, that we have in our way to God; our spirits be often times dull, and have need of quickening: 
Sap. 9  for as it is written, our body corruptible weigheth down our soul, and hindereth haste exceedingly. It shall be our next and last point, that I will entreat of; to say somewhat of the joys in heaven; that may waken us when we slumber, remember us when we forget; and spur us forward to amend our pace, when we begin to stand still. But this I will reserve until our next meeting. I will trouble you no further now.  
FINIS.   

THE SECOND Oration. upon Panis Angelorum.  
I Began the other day with Bread, and now I will end with Bread. I began with Bread of travelers. I will end with Bread of Angels. The best dish, I have reserved for last; the bread the Angels feed on for ever. The other bread which we have spoken of, was a preparative for this bread, and this thereward of that: to set at board with angels, to eat angels meat. 
Psal. 77.  Not the meat that was brought the Israelites by the ministry of angels, and perished; but that which angels themselves do feed on, in sight of their maker. And how far better is this, then to sit with Princes, or to be fellows with Potentates? This is it must be the reward of our Labours, this the Saturity, which nothing can be added unto. The very reward, that holy Moses looked after, and now hath to his fill. As it is written, Moses beheld his reward. 
Heb. 11.  His eye was still upon this reward, and so overcame with ease the hardness he sustained upon mountains, and rocks, for forty years together; and what he endured in all his timethere, the tongue of man cannot express.  
He was one that walked perfectly in the ways of God always, and therefore was wortthy to talk with God face to face. Mitissimus super terram: not a milder, or an humbler that ever lived upon earth. And yet the better to hold out through all afflictions to the end, aspiciebat remunerationem, he was glad to look at his reward; and to remember often, what he should have for his pains in the end. S. Paul likewise had his eye that way, 
Rom. 8.  that he said, that all we can suffer in this world, cannot deserve the glory, that attends us in the world to come. But how did Saint Paul; or how did Moses know this? were they ever to see it? certain it is, they had some illustrations more than other? because their love of God was greater, and their pains in God's service much more than others. 
2. Cor. 12. Exod. 33.  The one was ravished into the third heavens; the other saw the backparts of God, as the Scriptures make mention. By which I infer, if such noble sparks as these had need of these comforts, and to reflect sometimes upon their reward: How much more we, that are of the latter brood, borne as it were in the wain of the world, and coming short a great deal of their spirit and fervour; had we need I say, to think one it often, and to bear continually the joys of heaven in our mind; yea, to keep (if it might be) a true picture of them always before our eyes, for fear of forgetting. For thus it is with us. If we forget them, we are like to hazard them, if we remember them, they are like to be our own.  
There be four last things, that we are taught to bear in mind, 
Deut. 32.  and we shall never sin; whereof heaven is the principal. Death, judgement and hell are very needful also to be thought of, because it is good for us to fear, aswell as love. These indeed do fill us with fear and terror; but heaven fills us with love and ardent desire. Hell drives to God; heaven draws to God. Hell whips us with horror; heaven hales us with beauty. Love & fear are both of them profitable I say, but loveis more acceptable to God, because it is his own prime, and original quality, who dreadeth nothing, and all things dread him.  
It seemeth (my dear lovers and friends) ye look that I should somewhat say of the joys of heaven, what they be, and so it were fit, if I were able to perform it. But me think when I enter into so great a matter, I am stricken on a sudden with barrenness, and know not how to express myself, or where to begin. For I must speak of that, which I do but wink at a far off, neither can I well tell, what credit I shall have with you, to philosophate unto you of most excellent colours, which I never saw but darkeling. For if S. Paul could not tell us that little which he saw, nor yet Moses; nor, if any other Saint have been there, and come again to life, as S. Gregory writes of one Felix: 
in Dial.  much less shall I be able, that never came near that place, to delineate unto ye any thing with my rude pencil, 
2. Cor. 12.  that shall be worth your expectation. Saint Paul calls them Arcana, hidden mysteries, that are kept under seal from us, and such as we may not aspire to know, until we come there; and much less to tell, no not with the tongue of an angel. The best that I can bring you, will be but a reflection of a reflection, or a piece of the suns glory by night in the body of the Moon. And yet since ye are come to hear, and I have undertaken to say somewhat, I will be bold to say what I know, and no more; I leave greater mysteries to them, that are better learned.  
Our reward in heaven (sure) is admirably great: but what it is, or in what fashion, that we may say it is thus and thus, no man can deliver. Two things I know, and am assured of touching heaven, and heavenly joys; that is to say, the greatness of them when we come there, and the nearness of them while we be here: which may be also no small comfort unto us; and of these two I will speak a little, after my wont brevity, leaving the rest to your good thoughts when I have done. If your faith were like to his, that said justus ex fide vivit; 
Abac. 2. Rom. 2.  we should feel this greatness we speak of before we come at it; our very soul would rejoice, and triumph in it, before it could express why. If our faith I say were so lively, and springing as it might be, our tongues would not list to speak, but our very deeds, actions, and behaviours, would show heaven in our faces. Our very countenance would bewray heaven in us. There is nothing would disturb us, no anger disquiet us, no passion distemper us, no ill fortune bear us down; but as we shall be when we come there, so shall we begin to be, while we be here, constant, stout, resolute in all good purposes like Elias or Elizeus, or Saint john Baptist, and a multitude of others after the new testament. But I shall speak more of this anon. Our faith and spirit is not of that vivacity, that theirs was of; nor have we apprehensions of heavens delights, but by such similes, and resemblances, as we can make by visible things; by which we have a guess, or estimate at the greatness we speak of, and yet come short of it by infinite degrees.  
I cannot tell how to express this greatness better than by one word; a long word full of matter, and makes up a verse alone. Incomprehensibility the sum of our felicity. For we must know for a certainty, that the greatness of our reward, that is to say, of heaven, is incomprehensible of any mortal understanding. But why so? do we not read of some that have seen heaven, or paradise in a trance, or ecstasy, and coming to themselves again, have told what they saw there? delicate green meadows with silver streams and golden sands in the bottom running through the midst of them; the banks beset with violets, and primroses, that never parch with heat, nor perish with treading on; the weather temperate, always April with them.  
Cool without cold, day without night,  
Sun full of shade, shade full of light.  
Is not this comprehensible? gardens full of all sweeteflowers, daintily dressed without man's labour, the rose without thorns never fading, pinks and lilies of all fresh colours never decaying, spring and harvest coming always together, blooming and bearing all at a time; nothing there but wish, and have it, from the chirping bird of rarest feature, to the loud organ, or music of the best harmony; these and such like have been revealed to some good folk. Are not these also comprehensible? and yet we said, that heaven is incomprehensible.  
We shall there behold the humanity of Christ & his blessed mother the glorious Virgin, whom to see in flesh, we could travel the world round, if they were living; such comfort we should find of it. For, if that notable Lawmaker of Megapolis thought long to die, 
Circidas.  and took pleasure to think, he should then see Pythagoras, Euclid, and other famous men deceased: how much more pleasure will it be to us, to see jesus, whom we all serve and honour: whose name alone makes hearts to leap, and devils to tremble, in power so triumphant, so sweet andamiable in aspect, and so alluring to all beholders, that we shall not off on him, after we come once to see him. And is not this comprehensible?  
This heaven we speak of was revealed to S. 
Apoc. 21.  john in form of a city, twelve thousand furlongs in length, as many in breadth, and as many in height, all the twelve gates of it, were entire pearl, the streets paved with gold, and the walls of the same pure gold, and smooth like crystal: on the bottom whereof, grew all kind of precious stones, whereof twelve are named. It had no temple; for the temple was God himself. He saw a River also of living water, clear as crystal, springing out of the seat of God, and the lamb. This, and a great deal more he saw in spirit; and is not all this comprehensible?  
I gave you the other day five properties of bread. Wherein I told you nothing above your reach, but ye might plainly understand them to be in our bread of travelers. And I can make it as plain to you, how they be also as evident, and far more certain in our bread of Angels. The substance of our traveling bread was the grace of God in word, and works: The substance of our Angelical bread is his grace also, not in faith, but in fruit; not in works, but in reward. His grace is with us here but in hope, there, in certain knowledge; here in trembling, there in true possessing. Hear we may fall again, there, never. This grace of God in heaven, shall be his eye of glory upon us always. The master's eye makes a fat beast, and the eye of God upon us incessantly, makes fair creatures, and not inferior to Angels. And this was the first property to feed us, and nourish us, Quipascit inter lillia, He shall feed us amongst Lilies and Angels.  
The second property was to make purest blood in us. We shall not look like our earthly complexions. No gross humours or dross shall approach us. How pure shall we be? As pure as Angels. Our bodies like glass transpârent, Sine macula aut ruga, All manner of spots will be taken out of us, and every wrinkle made plain. A third quality of bread was to be loved of all. And who shall behold that sparkling eye of God, and shall not be enamoured with it? Vulnerasti cor meum in uno oculorum tuorum, 
Cant. 4.  Our hearts will be wounded with that alluring eye. It shall not be like our loves here, which are more in claiming, then in obtaining, and after a while we care not for them. Believe me: not so in heaven. And all this is comprehensible.  
Now what should I speak how common this bread is in heaven, which was the fourth property? This bread of Seraphins, o how easily it is gotten, and without ask? Common I say, for every one shall have enough. Neither shall the commonness, or having without ask make the reward more vile. For every one shall rejoice that another hath the same, or more than he. The forefinger is graced with that the little finger wears.  
I keep still within compass of your capacity. And to omit the fift property, which is not in heaven, where none can ever be at loss, or fall from good estate: I pass to a sixth property, which is in our Angel's bread, and was not in the other. There is no doubt, but we shall have our taste in heaven, as other our senses, but in greater use and perfection. And if we could make a piece of bread to taste in our mouth of what we list, like a pear, or pearmaine, a cherry, a plumb, or a piece of marmalet, we would think it an excellent thing. Behold, our Angel's bread tastes of God; and in God is every good taste. No amber or civet so sweet as he, no conserve so preservative, no codinik so delectable. Is not all this also comprehensible? How is it then that we say, heaven is incomprehensible?  
And yet we must make our saying good, that it is indeed incomprehensible. All our amplifying is nothing absque eo, 
Cant. 4.  quod intrinsecus latet, All is nothing to that which is hidden, as the lover said of his love in the Canticles. It is hidden from us most, that shall delight us most. Few of all these are there, that I have spoken of. Buildings, and walls of gold, no such thing there; no green meadows, or silver streams; no music, or melody, such as ever we heard, or knew. All these be base, to that we shall find there. And yet our senses here attaining no higher matter of pleasure: these things are said to be there, that we most desire, and have greatest lustre here. And which if we find not there, in these kinds, yet are we not deceived; because we shall find them there in another kind we know not of, five hundred times better, and without all comparison greater.  
And this do they that be learned call Theologiam negativam. 
Grana. de Symb.  Because all that we can say here of heaven and heavenly things in the affirmative, we may boldly deny and say, there is no such thing there. For our bodies it is clear, we shall be bright, quick, nimble, subtle, full of noble perfections, such as we can ask no more. But for things without us, how we shall find them, no man can justly say. No such light as we apprehend, no such mirth or feasting, no pearl or precious gemes there; no palace of pleasure with Bricks or pavements of gold; no such odours for the smell, or dainty notes to our ear; or gustful things to our palate, as we have them here. But on the contrary; if we say what is nôt there, that is evil and troublesome here: all that we may boldly say to be literally true. No affliction there, no fear of any thing, no sorrow or lamentation, no weeping or wailing, nor any thing that can grieve. This flesh of ours shall not be heavy, lumpish, or drowsy, mortal, passable, corruptible, or subject to torment, not so much as to a finger-ake. All this we are sure shall nôt be, and we shall nôt have; but what else we shall find there, or what heaven is in the affirmative, it is wholly concealed from us, until we come there. And therefore, as to our present knowledge, and to our now capacity; if we should take upon us to define, or describe heaven what it is, I know not how to do it then to say thus: Heaven is that which it is nôt; and it is nôt that, which it is.  
And with this agreeth a saying of Saint Paul. For whatsoever we say or affirm of heaven out of the Scriptures, fathers, revelations, or visions that good people have had, and I should stand to recite here till night: yet notwithstanding he tells us absolutely, In cor hominis non ascendit, It never came up into our heart, and much less into our tongue, to think or say, what it is. And to say the truth, it were a great imperfection in heavens perfection, that it should be like any thing here, or we in our mortality capable of any thing there: more than this in general, that it is a vision of God, and that we shall be so delighted with this heavenly, and blissful gaze when we come there, that when we have beheld him incessantly as many thousand years, as there be minutes of hours in a thousand years; he will still be as new to us, as if we had never seen him before; and we still more thirsty after his divine contemplation, than ever we were of drink after a hot days journey. Howbeit to say now what this felicity is, or rather in what sort we shall apprehend God, or in what part, or power of us this feeling pleasure shall consist, when we come to see Christ, and glorified friends, we neither know, nor can know here.  
No doubt, the apprehension we shall have of him, shall be in our understanding soul. But whether in such sort, as it is in other knowledges, or whether the difference will be Specifical or no, I know not. We hear of many delicate fruits in strange countries, apples, pears, or plumbs, of most excellent taste, and verdure. The outsides are described to us, both for colour, shape, and bigness. But none can tell us the sweetness, or delightful relish of them within, until we taste. Only this we know, that our sense can judge of them when we have them; and we shall need no new addition to our senses perfection to taste them. But when we come to so infinite an object as God is; shall we not need a new understanding think ye? 
2. Pet. 3. Apoc. 21.  Novos coelos, novam terram, and ecce novafacio omnia. God will make all things new. And shall not we have a new intellect also, to understand so new, so rare, and so unspeakable a mystery? but I leave it. It is not for nothing, that he saith, in cor hominis non ascendit. It never came into man's heart what God hath prepared there, for those that love him, as they should do here.  
And it is not only the vision of God, which the Apostle speaks of here; but also of the particular joys, and accidental glories, ensigns, and laurels, that Saints shall have given them there, after as their fight, and combat was here. To Martyrs such a one, to confessors such a one, to virgins, and other, such as it pleaseth him. Doctors, and Preachers, that labour to gain souls, shall have their peculiar cognizance of glory. And so shall Kings, Princes, and Magistrates that govern well, and labour the public good with their eye always to Godward. And all you that be military, ye shall not want yours also, that fear no blows, but are ready to execute for the good of your country. All which particular glories, what they shall be, and of what fashion our liveries, or new kind of vesture; or of what colour our ensigns, and laurels in our hands, and a thousand things beside; and how inestimably delightful they will be to us, and graceful in the sight of others; neither eye hath seen, nor ear heard, nor hath it ascended into the heart of man quae preparavit saith he. He saith not quod preparavit. For God hath prepared many things for us, according to our many vocations and divers employments we received of his goodness in this his militant Church.  
And here I shall desire you instantly to note well the words of this blessed Apostle, when he saith thus: in cor hominis non ascendit, it ascended not into man's heart, or came not so high as man's heart. Why did he not say it came not down, or descended not into man's heart, but ascended not into man's heart? Are heavenly things below us, that he should say, they ascended not into our hearts? Christ ascended into heaven. Heaven is above us. 
Psal. 122.  Ad te domine levaui oculos. When we pray for any thing, we look upward, and ask it from above. And when it comes to us; it descends, and comes down to us, not ascends to us; and yet the Apostle saith, it hath not ascended. The greek word is 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉. ascendit. How can they ascend or come up to us, that are so far above us? this word me thinks hath a mystery in it, and very fit for our purpose, to show the greatness we speak of.  
There is no contentment in this world, but if it come to affect us, and to possess our heart, it ascends to our heart, and comes from below our heart; it comes from under us, and for the most part, from under our very feet. We tread on them, and they are all under us. Great lands and possessions, fair houses, parks, and palaces; they come all from under us, and were earth, and clay first, before they came to this magnificence. Their furniture of silk arrasse, and beds of gold; all that we carry on our backs, or deck our heads, or necks withal when we be at the richest with stone, and pearl, and coffers full of treasure, that are made so much of; whence comes all this, but out of barren earth, or the bottom of the sea, sought for, and tumbled out by the toil of man from the bowels of the earth, that are so far beneath us. Again, if our contentment be in belly cheer, all comes likewise from the lowest elements. Nothing lower than the earth, and water, which they feed on, before they come to feed us. And therefore if they come so near our heart, as to be loved by us; we love that which is lower, and base than ourselves, and they must ascend a great height unto us, to be as high as our hearts.  
Yea let us go to higher elements and so upward to the top of primum mobile; let them be never so high above yet are they under us by God's ordination, who made them, to serve us. And if we delight in them, & in the study of them as to contemplate their motions, and iufluences, and all their varieties, that are most pleasant to think on, and have holden Philosophers all their lives time: all these may be said, and are in the number of those that ascend to us; our heart, and best part being Lord of them, and they our subjects, and inferiors. The consideration of stars, and planets, with their brightness, and beauty, pure substance, and greatness, and the orbs they are carried in, the swiftness of their motion without noise, their change without disorder, their various aspects without confusion; all these and a great deal more come under the heart of man; & though they appear much higher than we, that go low by the ground underneath them; yet may they truly be said to ascend to us: yea all that God made in his six days work, be they never so rich, or excellent, never so high in their situation, yet are they beneath the soul, or thought of man, and are homagers to this little world of our understanding; and they cannot be so great, but our thought is greater, they cannot be so high, or tall, but our understanding will compass them, and is higher and taller than they. Only the joys of heaven are higher than our apprehension; and therefore Saint Paul saith, they ascend not into our thought, or heart, as all things else do, because we are made to ascend to them, and until then, we are not capable of them, no not of the least of them.  
Behold here the greatness of heavenly rewards, our heart, and mind, our soul, and understanding, that is capable of all things, that are in the world; and all things ascend to it, as to their commander; yet knoweth it not the least thing in heaven, as it is indeed. The wit of man doth pierce the most hidden and abstruse things that are in nature; and yet cannot fasten upon the least, and lowest things above nature. It is a wonderful thing, that there is almost nothing, that escapeth our knowledge, but is laid open by us, & we can teach it them, that know it not. Who was there ever that went down to the centre of the earth to take measure of it; and yet we can prove by just demonstration, how many mile it is thither, and how many about the whole earth, and never stir foot? Who was ever carried so high as the Moon? who hath walked among the planets and firmament, to know their motions and distances one from another, the bigness of the Sun and Moon; and their heights from the earth? yet all this is known, and the professors of that science are so well acquainted with the laws, and rules of that Celestial commonwealth, as if they bade been borne and bred there. Their yearly Ephemerideses do show the certainty of their knowledge pointing us to the very degree, and minute, where to find a star, or what time of day, or night an Eclipse will be, and how many points it will be darkened an hundred years hence.  
It is not unknown to any, what a multitude of hidden matters are revealed, and lie open to the Philosopher, and what an Anatomy he hath made of nature, and natural things. And not so contented, hath transcended nature, with his metaphysical knowledge, and lets not God himself lie wholly hidden, but brings him out into light. Who taught Aristotle and Plato that God was eternal, infinite of greatness, infinite in power, the first mover, one, and no more but one? But it is not my purpose to speak of all sciences that have been laboured, and perfected, by man, every one of them so full of mystery, variety, and delight, as nothing more. Which although it greatly commend God's goodness and bounty towards us, in that he hath made out of dust, and ashes a creature so capable, and piercing by his own permission even into his own substance and nature: yet so hath he limited this knowledge of ours, that we are not able to imagine what he is indeed Sicuti est, nor how great the meanest thing that belongs to us, and shall be ours in the world to come, if God makes us worthy. We have not only not seen or heard, but neither can we guess in thought, in cor hominis non ascendit, what it is.  
If the least thing then in heaven be so great, what is all heaven? what is God, who is the sum and substance of all reward, and felicity? We that be Christians, have much more knowledge than heathens had. Our light of reason is doubled with our light of faith annexed thereunto; by which we both see more than we see with our eye; & what we believe, we believe more, than had we seen with eye. What seek we more? We believe that heaven is truly great, and our reward unspeakably great. What seek we further into the secrets of God, to know how? Let us not be curious in matters not belonging to us yet. Let us not destroy faith with too much curiosity? If God would condescend to give us a sight of heaven, and of our glory there, we should rather refuse it with humility, then expect it with importunity. We should rather say to him, Satis domine; thy promise is as much to me Lord, as if I were there to see it. It is enough to me, that I know it is so. O let me not see, until it please thee to call. This should be our speech to God; and much heed we ought to take, that we diminish not his faith with least doubt of his promise, or desire to have it proved by sense. Sense knowledge, derogats from faith knowledge. If we see it once, it is faith no more. And we may offend in it ere we be aware. For he that searcheth into Majesty, shall be overcome of glory. 
Prou. 25.  As much to say, as he that will enter into God's counsel before he be called; shall be punished as Phaeton was; his own pride will overthrow him. This alone may suffice for the greatness of our reward; ye apprehend it with faith, and that is enough, yea a great deal more, than any eloquence in the world can paint unto you.  
I omit therefore to speak of many things besides that would express this greatness. As also of the many names, whereby it is called in holy writ, and ancient fathers: which would greatly testify the greatness of it. As where it is called Mons pacis, the Mountain of peace, where no disquiet or brabble can reach at us; and that which Princes have much ado to perform with all their power and policy, is there done with ease. No war or dissentation can approach this hill, where hearts and minds are all one; one will in all, and there is not found a second. It is called Domus dei, 
Eccl. 4.17. Psal. 22.  The house of God: Or if ye will, God's court, and we his courtiers, or servants in ordinary: or if ye will, God's hospital, and we his old soldiers, when age hath weakened us, infirmity disabled us, and death put down the bar, that we may fight no more. O happy they that can get a place there: where all sit rend free; shall haveoile for their wounds, ease for cumber, pleasure for their pain, and all things provided for their hand, and can never say, this they want, or this they would have more. 
Apoc. 3.  Heaven is called also new Jerusalem; and well may it be so called. For old Jerusalem is in the enemy's hands, while all good people groan, and will never linne grieving (I fear) till God shall make them free of the new.  
It is many times called regnum coelorum, 
Mat. 5. Mat. 19 Luk. 7.  the kingdom of heaven, Let us consider of this world a little. A king and a kingdom are relatives. And he that hath a kingdom must needs be a king. What is a kingdom worth if a man should buy it? or who hath price enough to buy a kingdom with? It is a rare fortune to rise of nothing to be kings, and yet such fortune some have had. Saul, David, jeroboam, jehu, Darius, and divers Emperors; and it is not every one's fortune: yet may it be every one's fortune to have a far greater in heaven; and it lieth in his own will. He may have his crown there, his robes and purple there, and those more glorious there then we can imagine here. 
jac. 3.  And in this sense S. james doth call us heirs of the kingdom that God did promise, 
Rom. 8.  & S. Paul doth likewise call us heirs of God, and joint heirs with Christ; & more than this, he saith, we shall reign together with him. 
Homer illiad.  For kigns are not there, as they be here; where one crown royal none can have but one. Non bona res multi domini rex unicus esto, Two kings in a kingdom will never stand long. In heaven quite contrary. It is no disgrace to a king to have many fellows. Yea Angels themselves rejoice exceedingly, and Christ our Lord disdaineth not to set us by him, 
2 Tim. 2.  and to communicate his crown with us. Saint Paul's word is conregnabimus, We shall be fellow kings with him; this were treason here.  
But we must know, that by this word king are understood two great titles. The one of necessity; the other of honour: the one a title of pain, and charge, begotten of common good, for preserving of peace, and justice among men; the other a title of honour, and greatness, deserved by themselves, or their ancestors, or both. In the right of the one, 
2 Pet. 2. Apoc. 20.19. ibid. 44.  he carrieth a sword ad vindictam; in right of the other, he weareth a Crown on his head as a conqueror. The one needless in heaven, where all be good; the other needful in heaven to despite the devil, and them that be bad. And this kingly honour, no king hath more on earth, than souls have in heaven; 
1. Pet. 5.  who acknowledge no superior there but God, as kings do here. Only, their crowns differ, the one is of gold, the other is of glory; they differ also not a little in there estates, the one is for life, the other for ever.  
And therefore in our creed it is called by another name, Vita aeterna, or life everlasting. Our estate in our kingdom there, is for life, but we shall live for ever. How far better this then your fee simple here, which ye say, ye have for ever, yet cannot have longer then for life, nor so long neither many times. And if they that follow you waste it, where is your fee simple. It may rightly be called fee simple, a simple for ever. But ours not so; it will be for ever; which no violence can wrest from us, no rust or moth wear away, no time nor oldness wrinkle or disfigure, no sickness consume, no wrong hazard, or misinformation call in question. Our estate there pure, perfect, and indefeazable, tied to no condition, charged with no encumbrance, or fear of forfeiture. Subject to no law like a king; no man's vassal, and doing no man's will, but our own, and ours none of our own, but Gods.  
What an inexplicable greatness is this? and yet I cannot leave it so: the more I have said, the more me think I have to say. But I will bond myself to one or two considerations more, and so end for this point. I may not forget to tell you the price of heaven, and scarcity of buyers, that will give any thing near the worth of it. Both which but briefly considered will not a little advance the greatness we have in hand. By the price, that is given for a commodity, we may guess at the worth of it. If a thousand pound be given for a purchase, we esteem it at fifty a year. If a million be given we esteem it at fifty thousand a year. The price of heaven is set down by a cunning survey or of those matters, Saint Augustine, Tantum valet, quantum es saith he. It is as much worth, as thyself: that is to say, all that thou hast, and art. And so is it prized by the Son of God; 
Mat. 13.  who likened heaven to a precious pearl, which a certain jeweller finding, Vendidit omnia sua, & comparavit eam, he sold all that he had to buy it. Because it was worth all he had, he sold all, and bought it. Of all jewels there is none more excellent than an orient pearl. 
Lib. 9 cap. 35.  It is culmen omnium presiotiorum (saith Pliny) nothing more precious than it. Both is it hardest to counterfeit; and there is nothing dearer, or higher prized than it. The Queen of Spain had one given her at Florence was valued by good Lapidaries at thirty thousand pounds sterling. Ferdinand Cortes that conquered Mexico, had one at his ear valued at all the king of Spain's treasure, that had ever come from the Indieses to that time. Which exceeded far the price of any Diamond that ever I heard of.  
Now if I should say, that this were the price of heaven; I should come short of it by far. For the price of the poorest life is more than this. Cuncta quae habet homo, dabit pro anima sua, 
job. 2.  A man will give all he hath for his life. Yet how many lives have been given, or joyfully lost for this heavenly pearl by holy Martyrs? Is not this an admirable greatness, that should be worth a man's life, even a king's life and all his kingdom, if he be a king? For by this text, a life comprehends all. Yet all this is little to that. I can say no more. What if I can prove it to be worth the life of God himself? yea, what should I need to prove so manifest a truth, which all we that be Christians are bound to believe? I would we could as sensibly feel it, as we truly conceit it. The life of God himself was given for it. Adam once had mortgaged it, and made a forfeit of it, and our heavenly father sent down a price for it, his only Son to redeem it. Ye are redeemed (saith Saint Peter) not with corruptible gold, 
1. Pet. 3.  or corruptible silver, but with the precious blood of the immaculate lamb. And this is praetium magnum (saith S. Paul). And well might he call it a great price; 
1. Cor. 6.  for it is an infinite price: whereupon I infer thus. To recover our lost inheritance cost an infinite price; but an infinite price must be for an infinite greatness, therefore our inheritance must be of infinite greatness; than which, what is or can be greater.  
And if this be not enough to stir your affections towards it, or to possess you thoroughly of this greatness by the greatness of the price, that hath been given for it: Raise your imagination a little, and think with yourselves; that ye see God in flesh. Think that his noble presence were in the midst of you. Behold his person, behold his face, and ye shall see the greatness of heaven in it. In a little round glass, ye may see the firmament above ye; and in the compass of his face ye may see whole heaven. That ouerioyed face, with seeing heavens beauty; that ever sorrowed face, that his flesh might not come there yet. 
Luc 12.  I am grieved saith he, till it come to pass. That averted face from all worldly contentment; that scornful face to all earthly promotion, which he neither had time to think on, nor yet thought worth his care, in respect of that greatness, that was always glittering in his eye.  
Gold to him showed no brighter than Counters, he would not touch it. Plenty with him no greater than the poor man's box; more than that, was distasteful. Pleasures to him no sweeter than blows; nothing could draw his eye from the Radiant splendour above him. 
Prou. 8.  All his riches was in that sacred eye of his. No pleasure here below but among the poorer sort, to sit and converse with them. Deliciae meae cum Filjis hominum, His delight was among the sons of men, to show them this greatness, and to hold up his finger to them. And like as he was, so were his Apostles, 
Psal 44.  so his disciples, so his disciples disciples, and all their descendants in spirit, to this very day. Pro patribus tuis nati sunt tibi filii, As the parents look, so look their children. We see Christ in them, and heaven in Christ. Carnal children are like their parents for a descent or two, but spiritual children for ever. They never lose the countenance of their Protoplast, or the first shape, or favour of their founder. 
Psal. 10.  As Christ looked so look ours, As Christ conversed so converse ours. Nolite tangere Christos meos. We may be bold to call them another Christ, to see heaven in their faces, if our eye be not very nought.  
But now I fear me I must change my song to speak of the last point; which is the fewness of Buyers. I began with a Comedy and must end with a Tragedy. But I will be the shorter. Yet somewhat I must say: and although it seem contrary to somewhat I said before; yet hath it an argument in it, of the greatness we speak of. I told you even now, 
Mat. 25.  that it is called your kingdom, paratum vobis regnum, A kingdom provided for you, from before the beginning of the world. I told you it was every body's fortune that list, to be a king in heaven; yet here I say it is almost no man's fortune, the number of them is so passing small, that shall come there. Hardly one of the twenty or rather of forty thousand that shall be saved throughout the world. I think before Christ came, scarce one of a Million. The fault is their own I grant, that they be not kings; but the fault is so universal, that few can avoid it.  
For the truth whereof, consider with me a little, what multitudes have been in the world since the first age, and what multitudes have died, and been slain in a day, or near together, 
4. Reg. 9  and none saved. We read of Senacharibs army one hundred fourscore and fifteen thousand slain in a night, 
Rex.  all heathens. Cyrus and two hundred thousand of his slain in one battle, besides his enemy Scythians near as many more, 
Plut. vit. Navel.  all heathen on both sides. Of Persians two hundred thousand slain at one time by Melciades the Athenian Duke, besides his own, all heathen on both sides. Of Armenians and others, three hundred thousand foot, and horse were slain almost together by Lucullus, besides his own side, which was bloody enough, all heathen on both sides.  
Caesar in person was at the kill of one thousand thousand, one hundred fourscore and ten thousand, besides a multitude of his own, and besides them that were slain in the civil wars, which he as ashamed to reckon, all heathens and Idolaters. 
Rex.  Alexander in three battles against Darius only, slew fifteen hundred thousand, besides what else were slain of his own side, all heathen people on both sides. 
josep. de Bell. jud. Baroni.  The story of the jews overthrow at jerusalem is well enough known; where were slain of them and Proselytes together (besides forty thousand that went out before to fly God's wrath) eleven hundred thousand persons and above, whereof it was thought few or none were saved, but died obdurate. Latter histories relate unto us infinite battles of all heathens, and some of heathen, and Christians together. Charles Martell slew three hundred threescore and fifteen thousand Saracens in a short space; and Rhodericus as many, and more. To say nothing of the terrible slaughters in our days, between Turks, Moors, Persians, Muscovites, Tartarians and Ethiopians, and such like, all heathens without number, fight one against another, none of them better than other, all striving who should send down most to their great Master, whom they served. And they that escaped the sword, were never the nearer. They went the same way in the end, and drank of the same cup. To say nothing also of them, that die of the Murrain, plague or famine every year; 
Leo. Afer.  ten thousand carried out of Cayro in a day of the plague, and many other like accidents that we hear not of.  
God died for all: but none have the benefit of it, but his little brood of the elect: & these were Jsraelites, and jews before the incarnation, & Christians since the incarnation. But what? were all the jewessaved? are all Christians partakers of this reward? though God confined himself most what to the jewish nation in those days, and now to Christians; yet very few there be either of them, or us (in respect of them that miscarry) that shall be partakers of this so rare, so noble, and so royal a reward. Heaven is not for God's enemies, or cold friends. The jews were always so cold of devotion, so prone to sin, so grumbling against God, and superiors, that he swore in his anger, they should never see his rest. 
Psal. 94.  Holy David complained in his time how abominable they became in their iniquities, there was none that did good, no not one, 
Psal. 13.  in comparison of those that were otherwise. And yet had they then a noble king over them, and worthy Priests to govern them, and guide them. Saint john Baptist also in his time couldscarce afford them a fair word, but called them Vipersbroode. 
Mat. 3.12.   
Now to speak of Christians, that came after; although the primitive sort of us were more hot, 
Mat 20.  and zealous; yet Christ foretold us for our better warning, that many of us should be called, 
Luk. 13.23.  and few chosen. And in an other place being asked, Si pauci saluantur, whether but few should be saved; he seemed to affirm it saying. Strive ye to enter the straight gate. And even so hath it proved in all ages. They that were good, were always few. In all the old world, 
1 Pet. 3.  eight persous only were saved, the rest were drowned. What numbers have there been of heretics, and yet are, that have no part in the kingdom of heaven? and of those that believe well, how many be there that live well? who delights in God's service, or holds himself to hours, and orderly life? who is there almost, that hath not one fault, to bring him to hell; and yet will not leave it, until it leave him? how many more be there that have many faults, give way to them all, swallow all, till all too late they repent them. The broad way they be in, they like well to go forward in, love ease, love security, never seek more, and so dodge on till they die, and die as they lived.  
Very few there be indeed, and too too few that be chosen. Many run in the furlong (saith Saint Paul) yet but one gets the prize. 
1. Cor. 9  And why but one amongst many? he insinuates a reason a little after, that no man may-despaire notwithstanding, to get the goal if he will. His reason is for that scarce one amongst many prepareth for the race, as he should. They be commonly so slothful, and drowsy, that they diet not themselves, they deny not their belly all excess, enure not their souls to daily practice, and exercise in that heaveuly race; so as they run, but uncertainly, and as it were beating the air. All follow vanities, the projects of their own hearts, and no man ponders, or considers deeply the greatness of this heavenly goal he runs for, and therefore looseth it.  
Alas we cannot get trifles in the world without care. Yea all the care we can, we bestow upon them commonly. But no man bestows on heaven the least care, come of it, what will. It is an ill dog they say, that is not worth whistling. The most make worse than a dog of heavenly felicity. They hardly bestow a sigh on it from their heart in a long time. But it is not my purpose to show reasons why it is so, that so few be saved. It is enough that we have proved it to be so, even amongst the professors of Christianity. O greatness of heavenly reward. Who shall attain thy holy hill? Who shall be admitted to sit with Angels? Omne paerclarum rarum, Every thing that is excellent in this world, is also rare. If kings were common, and great persons every where, who could see their greatness? Even so it is of good folk, who are as admirable as rare, whatsoever men think of them. O happy lot, o excellent reward. Thy excellency is seen by thy rareness, and hard to come by. O worthy of worthies, that the world sets so little by, and is not worthy of. How great art thou in thy height? How great in breadth, and largeness? Thou art big in place, spacious in thy rooms, large in thy beautiful territories. The earth is little to thee. Hell is nothing to thee. Behold here an admirable work of God.  
Heaven is above, near God. Hell below near the Centre, as is thought where most be, the place is narrowest to receive them: where fewest Souls be, there is room to spare. The number of damned souls is without number beyond those in Heaven; and yet their place is infinitely less than it in heaven. The way to hell is broad and wide, but narrow and pinching when one comes there, especially when they come to their bodies again. Most woeful it is to think on, how they will lie thronging and crowding together for want of room, like bricks, or tiles in a burning kill, not able or not allowed to stir hand or foot, if they would never so feign, men and women, fat and lean, little and great, huddling one upon another confusedly, without respect of age or sex, or any body's rank or place, which they had in this world: with Heaven all contrary. The way thither narrow, and straight, and hard to pass it; but when one is there, and hath crowded through the little wicket; he finds a large field, and goes freely where he will, without end or weariness.  
The nature of contraries is in contrary qualities; hell is little in ease, because, there is no ease; little in pleasure, because it is all in displeasure; little in room, because it hath no room for any repose. Heaven therefore must needs be great, fair, goodly, bright, beautiful, full of ease, full of repose, every body would have; few will take pains for; and therefore thousands to one, shall not have it, as I said before. I doubt not but all men believe as much as I; or any man can say of this Angelical subject. And I doubt as little, but they think it well worthy of their study and care, and of their pains and cost, if cost be needful for the obtaining of it. But what is the pains that belongs to it, that men, and women so shrink at, and pull in their necks? Is it loss of life, or limb? Not so, but in case of Martyrdom. Is it to give all to the poor? 
Mat. 19  Not so; though Christ advise it one, that sought to be perfect. Is it to suffer burning, or pains of hell for it before we come there? Not so, and yet Saint Augustine wisheth it with all his heart, 
Medit.  that he might feelehell torments a good while together, to be sure to come thither; and so doth venerable Bede. See what apprehension these had of heavens greatness.  
What is then the let that stops them? What the pain that terrifies? 
Prou. 26.  What Lion in the way, that puts men out of the way? What spirit or hobgoblin skares them so, that they run quite contrary, and scarce look back again? Surely, nothing else in the world, but a loathing, or weariness of well doing. They think the pain nothing, if it were short, but to persevere long in good courses they hold it a cruel thing. They say in their hearts, they could endure much for a day, or an hour, so Heaven would come presently, without tarrying too long for it. But to live a long life, and all the while in Battle, all the while in withstanding temptations, and allurements, and denying their own wills; all the while expecting reward, and none coming; it is more than flesh and blood can bear, and they will not endure it. But how Dastardly a thought is this? How erroneous, and wide from the matter? That which they think so hard, is with practice easy. And that which they think is far off, is rather near, as I shall prove unto you now. I have spoken hitherto of Reward, how great it will be when we shall have it. Now hearken I beseech you for the Nearness also a word or two, according to my promise, and then I shall conclude.  
Our Saviour well foresaw this weakness of ours, how weary we would be of well doing, if he were not at hand to us with Reward, he knew our proneness to evil, and how soon we were like to distaste, and forego this Bread of travelers, if we should stay too long for our Bread of Angels. And therefore, before he manifested himself to the world, he sent us word by his forerunner, and the first words his Baptist spoke next to Penetentiam agite, were these: 
Mat. 3.  appropinquavit enim regnum caelorum, The kingdom of Heaven is at hand. A noble comfort, if we have faith to believe. 
Abac. 2.  Veniens veniet & non tardabit saith another Prophet, Coming he will come, and make no delay. And in another place, Ecce venio citò, & merces mea mecum est, Behold I come quickly, and my reward in my hand. He doth as mothers do by their children, promise them to come quickly, that they may not think long; so here, venio citò: 
Apoc. 3. ibid. 22.  mothers speak it sometimes in policy, but God saith it truly (as we shall find it) venio citò, I come presently. Non tardat Deus promissionem suam saith Saint Peter, 
2. Pet. 3.  God is not slow in rewarding us; how can we say then that he tarrieth long, he is far off from us, and scarcely thinks on us?  
It is a sin against the Holy Ghost, not to believe the Holy Ghost. And if we will believe nothing but reason, very sense and reason will tell us as much. For it cannot be very far off, that, we fear rather is too near. Who is there, that thinks not or fears not, that death is too near? for so said the Epicure: Cras moriemur, 
Esay. 22.  We shall die to morrow. And thus say they that would live still, and take their pleasure, they are always physicking, and guarding themselves against death, which they fear still is too near. If death then be near, how is it that Heaven is not near, which we cannot have, until we die? Why complain we; that Heaven is far off, when the door of Heaven is too near? Some answer again, that death is too near indeed, but it is always in respect of our unreadiness to die only. Well then, death and Heaven are near. But it is we that are far off. Why say we then that Heaven is far off, when it is ourselves are far off with our unreadiness, not Heaven far off with our happiness? Indeed it is true, if Heaven be near, and we run from it, we shall never come at it: and then no fault in heavens nearness; but in our farrenesse. Where otherwise if death be near, Heaven must needs be near to them that shall have it. Me thinks, this reason should convince them. For if death be near in our fear, why should it not be as near in our hope? We confess the one; therefore we must confess the other.  
And yet I cannot deny but the Saints also in some sense do think it far off, and show some tokens of weariness. But this is doubtless out of a true longing after heaven, not out of a fear, that they shall stay too long for it; out of weariness they have of the world, not out of weariness of waiting and attending God's pleasure; out of their humility, and unworthiness to come thither yet; not out of floath or presumption that it is time enough yet: out of a thirst they have after God, whose face the Angels feed on; not out of temptation, and weakness as we do, who, if our sense be not pleased, we bid the spirit adieu. In the one sense Saint Paul said, 
Rom. 7. Psal. 41.  Who shalldeliver me from this body of death; and holy David, When shall I come and appear before the face of my God? And in another place, Woe is me that my habitation is prolonged, 
Psal. 119.  thinking every minute an hour, and every day a year, until they were dissolved, 
Phil. 1. Psal. 13.  and were with Christ: in the other sense, Dixit insipiens in cord suo, The fool said in his heart, there is no God. Or if he said it not, yet his actions say that, when he believes not God's promises, but makes him a politician, to tell us he is at hand, when we have twenty, thirty, or forty years yet to live, as many have. No, no, he deals not politicly, but faithfully with us; and if we see not his words to be true in this, we are blind, and see nothing. 
Psal. 89.   
Holy David saith the days of man are threescore and ten years, these seem great to children; but to our first fathers in the old testament this was no age. And if we should now live ordinarily so long, we might haply have some excuse for our weariness. But alas, what are these threescore and ten years? They are nothing to speak of, and so run out. They that have them think them quickly gone. We hear old folks confess it, and why should we not believe them, when they say as they find? we believe the Sentinel, what he sees from a high tower, because he is higher than we; and we believe the seaman what he discovers from above the toppe-saile, seeing farther than we. So ought we believe our elders, and ancients, when they speak what they have proved, and we shall say the same, when we come to the same years. And they say no more, but what our Patriarch jacob said: the days of my pilgrimage (said he) are an hundred and thirty; 
Gen. 47.  little and evil. Holy Job, said breves dies hominis sunt, our days are but short. And he asketh a question thus: 
job 14.  nunquid non paucitas dierum meorum finietur brevi, Will not the fewness of my days be soon ended? Mark these words fewness; and soon ended; and yet he had an hundred and forty years to live after; and when he spoke it, he was in extreme pain, when every hour might seem a day to him.  
These men I hope will be believed what they say. Compare now the Prophet David's sayings to these: both speaking from one spirit of truth. Holy jacob, and job say, the days of man are short. Holy David saith our years are threescore and ten; therefore (I say) the time of threescore and ten are short, and quickly gone, and consequently our reward at hand. How will this argument be answered? one telsus, that all the earth as big as it is, and full of great kingdoms is no bigger than a pings head in comparison to the vast and huge firmament; and we easily believe it, when the learned tell us it, though our sense doth not reach it. And yet how little, or nothing, our pilgrimage is here, even his that liveth longest; a matter of so common experience, and which our own infirmities, and daily indispositions mind us of; we persuade ourselves notwithstanding that it is a long time, and neither will authority, reason, or warning by others, once move us, or beat us from this motheaten hold we have of long life forsooth, and time enough yet. Three or fourscore years are a long time with us in God's service; though short enough in our desires.  
But let them be as long as men will have them. Suppose threescore and ten be great, and grievous to hold out to the end withal in virtuous life. See whether God in this also, have not done very much for us, that we may have no cause to allege against him, if we will make benefit of it. How many be there I pray, that live to threescore and ten. Doth every man live, till he be old? I will saymore. Doth every one live to half those years? I will be bold to say; and I think I can prove it, that half thov that are borne into the world, do never come to five and thirty; yea more than this; hardly two parts of three, come to see five and thirty. And this I prove two ways. First by the many multitudes of them that die between the cradle, and five and thirty. As appeareth by sextons and Churchclarkes, whom I have heard affirm, that they bury two of the younger half which are under five & thirty, for one of the elder half, from thirty five to seventy. Secondly & principally, by a survey of households, families, and towneshippes throughout the land, be it in city, town, or country, and that in this manner. Divide any of these into three; and scarce the third part is five and thirty. Myself have noted that two parts of three, are always under five and thirty. Unless it be in princes houses, and hospitals. If the family be nine persons, six of them be under; if fifteen, ten of them be under; If there be thirty in a house, twenty at the least are under; and so forward in proportion. Ye will say this may be true; not because they be dead, that should make up the number even; but because they marry away, or provide themselves otherwise, ere they come to that age. Well then. Fellow them where they go, and where they settle, they must be some where. Still ye shall find all one, and the same proportion wheresoever they become. But to leave these, and come to those, that are entered the latter half of thirty five, and upward; there, the odds is much greater; an hundred to one, Titleman saith a thousand to one, that they never shall see Seaventye.  
Now what is become of all those, that were once five and thirty with him? are they not all dead? but half a dozen, or not so many in a parish before they come to scutcheon, or any thing near it? yet thus it is in all places, and countries. There is a multitude of the younger sort all of an age; but of old folks but a few, and almost none in comparison. And therefore it is, I think that holy David said, dies amorum nostrorum ni ipsis, etc. 
Psal. 89.  The days of our years (in themselves) are threescore and ten; In themselves they are so many: but in us not so many, or in very few of us. It is a time limited to us, to which most few do ever attain. As if a man should say, it is ten mile to such a town to go the next way over rocks, and places unpassable; but the common way is twenty. In itself that is ten, but to us it is twenty. Even so it is with man's age. There be that live to those great years, but so few, that a man needs not fear it, if he would not live long; and it were folly to hope it, if long life be that he would have. But my purpose is not to dwell upon these points, which although they be true; yet I leave them rather to your scanning at more leisure upon these grounds I have given you; then to seem overcurious in a matter so serious, as now I have in hand.  
And yet I hope, this is not without fruit which I speak of; For so much as even in this the providence of God is seen over us, and his tender love to us. His providence first, in foreseeing our danger by living long. How many be there in the world, that we have known virtuous in their youth, and vicious in their age; in their childhood towardly, in their middle age of good example; in their elder years declining, and at last unrecoverable. Which David fearing in one place, 
Psal. 70.  prays to God, saying: O forsake me not Lord, when I come to be old. And of this we have divers examples in Scriptures, Saul, Solomon, joas and others; who of God's especial servants, declined in the end to be Idolaters; 
Mat. 24.  or as ill. God's love also is here to beseen towards his elect; for whose sake as he will shorten, and abbreviate the whole world, 
Sap. 4 11.  and will hasten the end of it; so doth he in particular for many of his servants, abridge much part of their time, that otherwise they might have lived.  
And albeit that many live longer for their amendment or increase of grace, which is also his goodness, Patientiam habet nolensaliquos perire, 
2. Pet. 3.  saith S. Peter, he draws out the time with many, that they may have time to repent them: yet so it is, that God will have us see, and know, and take notice of it; what odds there is against us, that we shall not live long. Many signs in our body, that our time will be here but short. Many spectacles before our eyes, and warnings on every side by others harms, or untimely deaths. New diseases every year, that will not let the bell stand; and sometimes horrible plagues, and pestilent agues, that seldom touch old folks, but pull down the lustiest. What should I speak of consumptions, squinances, cough of the lungs; ptisickes, dropsies, pleurisies, colic and stone, lethargies, appoplexies, and sometimes the sweeting sickness, that plays sweepe-stake amongst us, when it comes, and these come commonly of misdiet, or infection.  
Besides this, the number is without number, that die of age before they be half old: of age I say, because it is old age with some under forty, with some under thirty, with some under twenty, or under ten, if God will have them live no longer; who hath appointed every one their bounds, which they may not pass: Posuisti terminos, qui praeteriri non poterunt. 
job. 14.  He calls it terminos, not one bound for every man; but how many men, so many limits and bounds, 
Heb. 9  no certainty of it but one, which is (once) as Saint Paul saith, but not when. And of this there be natural reasons also, besides God's ordinance, which are the several indispositions of men's bodies, as we learn by Aristotle, Galen, and Hipocrates; the poorness of moisture radical in infinite persons, and the over abundance of it, in others, which natural heat is not able to master. The faults also in our first conception, and generation (which no man knows of but God) make an end of us quickly, when younger years promise longer life. To say nothing of the Malevolous' influence of sundry stars the Lords of our nativity; or of them, that keep no mean in their youth, and kill themselves with misrule. Plures occidit gula, quam gladius, saith one.  
Lastly, the manifold names our life is called by, in Scriptures, and fathers, do show the brittlnesse and uncertainty of it; as when it is called a bubble, that is come, and gone in the twinkling of an eye. It is called hay, green yesterday, and this day withered away. Sicut foenum dies eius, 
Psal. 102.  & tanquam flos agrisic efflorebit. Compared here to a flower in the field, this day fresh, and challenging the Sun for beauty, and fairness; to morrow holding down the proud neck, and no body looks at it. It is called a smoke, 
jac. 4.  a vapour, our face in a glass, soon seen, and soon forgotten, a cherry fair, a shadow, and as Saint Augustine calleth it, 
Medit.  a shadow by Moonlight, so much to say as a shadow of a shadow. What flowers of youth have we known in our time; the hopes of their father's house, and greatness, now blasted; and long since buried under the shadow of death; and will be quite out of mind. What beautiful Matrons have we seen in our days, that possessed men's hearts with their virtues, and sparkling eyes? They arose like a morning star to show themselves in our Horizon, went down again in their prime, and rise no more. To say nothing of our Europe worthies, whom our eyes have seen to fall in our last wars like stars in the firmament. 
De orat.  But o fallacem hominum spem fragilemque fortunam, saith Tully; speaking of our unstable life, how greatly we build upon it, and yet in medio curriculo (as he calleth it) we are taken, and intercepted by death, when we least think it, in the midst of our course.  
But thus we see in few words, how near our reward is; even as near as death. And if authority of Scripture will not serve, here be also reasons for it, and more might be added, if need were. Qui non credit peribit, And he that believeth not this verity which he sees testified with his own eyes, how can he be thankful, as he should, for so great a benefit. Let life be short or long with us, it is allotted for our good, and the way to make use of it, is to thank God, that it is no longer. If a man make reckoning of the best things here, and would live still, to enjoy them still; let him know he must forego them in the end, he knows not how soon. His delights must go one way, and he another. Let him make much of life; for when life is gone, his joy is gone. But if a man have a true feeling, and knowledge of himself, and of his life; and of the frailties of it, how full of sin, and proneness to sin, how full of enticements and evil provocations, and dullness to any goodness; what storms, and afflictions to beat us from God; what danger in prosperity to neglect God; what multiplicity of business to forget God, or to make us love him less; he will think it a blessing of God, not to live long, 
Phil. 1.  and will say with Saint Paul, Mihi mori lucrum, My death my gain, and will joy much in this possibility he hath; this great possibility I say, to be one of this number, that shall live but a little while.  
Heathens themselves, that had no light but natural; yet saw they how good it was, to die betimes. For when the good old woman Argia was in haste to go to the sacrifice as Tully telleth in his Tusculan questions, and her Coach-horses were out of the way; what did her two Sons Cleobis and Biton, but went in presently to strip and anoint themselves, and drew her thither in stead of horses, in very good time. For which their act, she besought God to bless them with the greatest reward that could be given to men. And so he did. For the next morning, after she had feasted them over night, and sent them well to bed; she found them both stone dead. Their guerdon of their Piety was shortness of life, as the greatest good thing, that could betide them. And this no doubt doth many a good mother amongst us obtain for her child, when she prays for him, and thinks not that God will quit her so, though God doth know it to be best so. Yea good king David had not his prayers, 
2. Reg. 12.  when he prayed so earnestly for his child's life. God saw it best to take him away. And how much happier had it been for Absalon also, to have died in his cradle, then live to be a Rebel. And to this purpose I have heard a saying of Frederick the third, that worthy Emperor, and it was much noted. That being asked once, what was the best thing God could bestow on us in the world, to be taken well out of the world said he: and yet he tasted three and fifty years what it was to be an Emperor, and to abound in peace, and in all good things.  
O what a benefit is this of God? What thanks do we owe him for it? If a man have a long way home in a hard winter time, and when he comes to his Inn at night all moiled, and weatherbeaten, (and must have many such days, before he get home) shall find himself on a sudden in the midst of his own yard; his wife and family with lights at the door to entertain him, a good fire within to warm him, and change to shift him, will he not stand amazed, and fall on his knees with wonder, that his journey proves so short? yet this can no man expect, nor can it be done without miracle. A Merchant likewise, that sets out from the Indies with goods of great price: the journey long and tedious, and no less perilous. If he pass through safe, he is made for ever; if he miscarry, he, and his are undone; and every day breeds new fears. Howbeit in putting in at some Cape three thousand miles hence, if he should find himself at that instant just before Calis or Dover; could any tongue express his joy? Yet this must be also by miracle. And these good haps be never heard of, though in our case it be ordinary, and daily done without miracle. So bountiful is God's goodness towards us, that traffic here for Heaven.  
Ourselves be this Merchant, or traveler, that would so feign be at home. We trade here for good habits, and the grace of God, more worth a great deal, than gold of Ophir, or Hevilah. Our care is here but for safe arrival through a main of miseries, and contradictions in our way. It is common with God, to harbour us at half way. The better half (as I said) are not gone half way, but they are at their long home first: or if not, yet is it all one to a man, if he be of resolution. Despare, and faint he will not, but hold it out to the end. We may not stick in a slough still, without stirring a foot, because we have a great way home. We may not cast our goods over board, because we know not when we shall make use of them. We shall serve God still, fear him still, love him still, and attend his good pleasure still, in little and great, in wealth and poverty, in fair weather and in foul. We shall not value inward riches, at less than outward; Heaven at less than the world; nor take more care for clods, then for glory.  
If we look but for an Executor-ship, or to be some rich man's heir, we are willing to observe him with all respect we can; no duty, or service omitted if he be our better; no kind of kindness unshown, if he be our equal; and this not for a month, or a year, but many years. And if it be so, that we think it long, yet wax we not weary straight, or cease to be respectful, as long as we have hope. And if it were so, that a man should be weary in such a case, or should neglect the inheritance that is so long in coming, and should go join with an enemy, or lose his possibility for a horse, or a hawk in hand; should we not hold him unwise? Yet thus it is with most of us in matters of Eternity. Heaven we would have, but we will not tarry for it. We hold it tedious to be so long Virtuous, and in the mean time, we give heed to our passions, and our humours bear all the sway with us. On the one side of us love of Carnality, love of soft and sweet, love of money and momentaries; on the other side choler, pride, envy, rancour, and revenge, and what not beside, that the Devil will suggest. I speak of many things, but one of these is enough to damn us, and to turn God's face from us for ever; and all for lack, of but a short whiles perseverance. And this may suffice for the nearness of reward. I proved it before to be great, and now to be near, what can we ask more.   

❧ The Conclusion.  
I have been much longer, and I fear me more troublesome to you, than I intended. But the matter we handle, is of greatest moment, and is the only thing we must rely upon, and stick to for ever. All other matters are human, and temporary, this everlasting, and Angelical. This is the last dish we must feed on, served into our table with a cover, that we may not see it, nor taste it, until the cover of our flesh be taken away. What it is, I cannot describe to you, in other sort than I have done. Well I know, it is the same, that Angels feed on. The self same, that Cherubins and Seraphins delight in. For as the damned have the same food, and fire in hell, as our Saviour telleth us, that was prepared for the devil and his Angels; 
Mat. 25.  so have the Saved also the same fare, and are fed with the same food, that was ordained for God's Angels, and the Celestial hierarchy. And although we know not yet how, or in what sort, or kind, this feeding, nourishing, or exceeding pleasure, shall affect us; for as Leo saith, nisi fides credat, sermo non explicat, it is better believed, then expressed; yet have I opened unto you after my poor manner, and given you a scantling of it, how great it is, both by the visible things in the world (that are all nothing to it,) and also by the greatness of man's understanding; which is able to conceive all things in the world, but not the least things in heaven. What is nôt in heaven I have also shown you. Nothing there to offend, or that can offend, a privileged place from all arrest of trouble, or of least molestation, as by the several names it is called by, and the price that hath been given for it, and by the fewness of Buyers, it may appear, and I have there alleged. And in this abundance of complete happiness, yea have heard also, what estate we shall have, not for a year, or years, life, or lives, or to us, and our heirs: but to us and ourselves for ever. And lest haply we should make void our faith in any sort with overmuch curiosity, faith being no faith, if we believe not without eye knowledge: I have importuned you, not to be too busy in matters above your reach; as to know how, what, or when, and how long first. Which I have lastly proved unto you, not to be long, at the longest, and is most commonly as near us as we can wish. 
Tract. 110. in joh.  Hoc modicum longum videtur, dum hic agitur, saith Saint Augustine, This little seems long to us here, Sed cum finitum fuerit, sentiemus, quam modicum fuerit; but when it is ended, saith he, we shall see how little it was. And so no doubt we shall find when we come once to that heavenly Sanctuary; that city of refuge; that haven of all our hopes; where a hundred years shall seem as nothing, if we lived here so long in fear of God, and virtuous life. Verily we shall wonder at ourselves then, that we could think the time here long; believing heaven as we did, to be so long in lasting, and so never toward ending. What's a stones cast of foul way, to a world of fair way? Is it to be stuck at. What's a spoonful of gall, to a sea of Rose water? Is it to reckon of? For shame of ourselves let us think no time lost, or long in God's service. For if we do, must we not look to be punished for it? and that by so much the more, by how much the more merciful he is unto us, in tempering as he doth our length of days with so many delights, and pleasing business in the world; while either we recreate ourselves moderately, sleep and rest ourselves temperately, converse with others familiarly, bestir ourselves in our vocation commendably, see the fruits of our labour not without comfort. We are not always at our devotions, not always praying, reading, and mortifying ourselves. Yea, the year itself which is the measure of our age, is also distinguished for us into several seasons. Winter comes but once a year. Then comes the spring bedecked with violets below, and blossoms over head. Then the summer full of daylight and ripening sun. Then harvest with all enticing fruits to fill our mouths, and hands full all the year long, till new come in; and every season hath his lawful pleasures. Which if we abused hitherto, or have spent our time unprofitably, or have lived badly; so merciful is God, that he will not exact of us, to begin all our time anew, as tradesman do by their apprentices; but will take the rest for good payment, that we have to live, though it be but a year, so we pray hard, and will yet resolve to amend. Haply he will content himself with two hours in a day, or with less, so it be with fervour. And this is not the tenth part of our life, nor eight hours of the day, as king Alfred used, notwithstanding his wars, and commonwealth affairs. What cause have we now to complain? If we be weary of kneeling, we may stand or sit, 
Gen. 24.  if weary of sitting we may walk. Isaac went into the fields to meditate. Again when God sends crosses, he interlaces them with promises, our unhappiness he delays with comforts, our mischances with assurance of his presence, and assistance, if we forsake him not: 
In Mat. 8. Psal. 91.  Rebus mestis jucunda permiscuit saith Saint chrysostom: And holy David: What measure we have in sorrows, the like measure we have in comforts. All these helps he allows us against weariness, all these favours against tediousness of life. In hell they would be glad of the least of them. Yet thus God doth by us, as it were stealing away time from us, that we may not feel it, or think it long. Let no man say therefore hereafter, it will be long first. I will think of these matters ten or twenty years hence. No, let them not say I will begin to morrow; yea why not even now?  Omnem crede diem tibi diluxisse supremum. 
Saith an old Poet, 

Think every day to be thy last.  
Take hold of time, ere time be past.    
Let us learn of an heathen, what danger is in protracting and dallying with God: If we have been slack, and mistrustful of God's promises hitherto, even now let us begin, and turn over the leaf. I have spoken many words to day; if any of them be to the purpose; I beseech you let it not fall, or come again empty. Let us make our confession with holy David, 
Psal. 54.  and say with him; ecce elongani fugiens, Not heaven far off, but we far off with flying it, and making ourselves strange to it, with our guilty consciences. Yea, although in respect of our sins we may cry with him otherwhiles, saying: Ne revoces me in dimidio dierum meorum, 
Psal. 101.  Cut us not off in the midst of our days, before we amend; and in zeal of God's service, Non moriar sed vivam, 
Psal. 117.  et narrabo opera domini, I will live still, and will not die, but will tell the works of God; yet in via virtutis, as there he saith, in the way of virtue, patience, and penitence in this life, it is profitable for us to think of our short life, and to make that our daily prayer and comfort, saying, Paucitatem dierum meorum nuncia mihi; Let me always have these tidings in my ear, that my days be short, and soon at an end. And let us not only say it, but also think it, and hope it to be very true. Oh that we might amend hereafter, and spur the faster, that we may one day all of us meet, and never departed again. If any difficulty be in it, it is all in the beginning. All our pains will be at the first. A little use will make it easy, and the hardest that is will break no bones. It will break a sleep indeed, to pray as we should pray, and to force our wills at the first, to the rule of reason. Make hast I beseech you, for I have shown you the way. Let no impediment stop you, no time or temptation weary you in so important a business. Waken your souls, that reason sleep not. Diet your bodies, that it rebel not. 
Rom 1. Abac. 2.  I said before, the just man lives by faith. So do you. Stir up your faith, that it lie not idle in you without fruit. Let us live by faith, as lovers live by love. Their love is life to their thoughts, and fire to their affections. They will do nothing against laws of love; they ply her with all the service, and good offices they can; the ground of their hopes is but a word, or a good look, or half a promise from her. Can we not do thus to God? It is but changing the subject, and it is done. Keep your love still, be enamoured still. That which was to a creature, Let now be to the creator, & then ye are right; hold yourselves there, so it be to God. If nothing can please you but riches, and splendour, make use of your faith; and ye shall have all contentment in him, that ye can desire. If beauty delight you, reflect upon your faith, and ye will never seek other, than what ye find in him. Your hope shall not be so weak, as lovers hopes, upon a word, or half promise. Every leaf in the Bible is fraught with promises. She is your own, what seek you more, and if ye have faith she brings all that is good with her. Do as lovers do. Serve God and observe him, whatsoever ye have in hand. Let your love be t'one end of your thought. Mark what God loves in you, and do it; note what he hates in you, & avoid it. Let him be always master of your heart, to govern it; mistress of your love, to command it, a most bountiful rewarder, ye shall find him, and a most beautiful mistress, yet none so mean in the world, but may have her; none so great in the world, but may go without her. How can a man be idle, and have so sweet a mistress to serve? night, and day, he cannot sin, in thinking on her. But I leave all to your good practice, ye have heard (worthy friends) all that one body can say in so short a time, in words so few and in a business, so above all measure necessary, and I may not spoil with tediousness, a matter so replete with all pleasantness. Shall I ask you a question, to make an end withal; ye shall not need answer me in words, but in thoughts. Is there any unbeliever in this place? Can any man persuade himself he shall live long, or that heaven will be had without much care? or that worldly cares do not hinder it, and hazard it exceedingly? Do they think they have no such inheritance in heaven as I speak off, Locum nominatum dabit eis pater meus, My father will give them a place by name: or think they that the least flower in heaven is not much more worth, than the fairest bower on earth? that one glimpse at God's brightness (if we might see it) would not dim and damn the worlds greatest happiness? that one peep into heaven would not make our gold show like lead, fair fields like a desert, the bright sun like a sparkle, beauty like the white skull of adead body? if any such be here asbeleeve nothing but what they see, delight in nothing, but what the basest, dullest, and most vulgar delight in; I shall most humbly entreat them for the passion of Christ, and for the true love they own themselves, to inform themselves better, by them that be better learned. Let them not be sick so dangerously and seek after no remedy. But if it be so, as I have no doubt but ye all believe me, then tell me I pray; whether ye need a spur thither, that have so fair a bait of it; whether ye need a whip, that have so fair allurements to it; whether ye need inviting to your own house, any bidding to your own banquet, any enforcing to your own possession or proper inheritance: which if ye need, I do not marvel much in this great opposition of flesh, and blood, which keeps you from seeing your inward mark; and which until yeesee more perfectly, mind more readily, and aim at more fervently, as you do at outward things; sure, it is not with you, as it should be, and your present remedy is, to make a pattern of outward things, whereby to guide you to the inward. Who stumbles at money-bagge, and needs be bidden take it up? who hath a a good legacy given him, and needs persuading to go fetch it? who is a hungered, and needs enforcing to fill his belly, having good meat before him. Sense furthers him in all this. And shall our faith be weaker than sense, to further us to the contrary? Sense tells us money is better than God's mercy; itching pleasure better than Paradise; present momentaries better than future everlastingness. And shall our faith lie dead the whilst. Take courage in God, and let not sense so prevail against it; Let not idleness drown it; passion overthrow it; and filthy custom cut the throat of it. Let faith rather go before, and other things come after. When we follow one by night, our eye is never off him, for fear we miss our way; even so let us look to our faithward always, that our sense seduce us not in the dark of our understanding. If at any time ye be feasting, or sporting, turn your eye now and then inward, and remember the grand-feast preparing for ye above. Are ye in sorrow, or heaviness; stir up your faith a little, remember heaven, and sorrow will vanish like a bubble. Are ye at a royal mask, or other great entertainment? Think it all nothing to that is ready for ye in heaven, against ye come there. Have ye lost a friend or dear companion? Take the glass of faith in your hand, and ye find an hundred for one more dear to you, than any can be upon earth. Have ye sweets at your nose, or dainties in your taste? Dwell not on them too long, but reflect them higher. Are ye tempted with disloyalty, or other disobedience? Raise an heavenly thought, and it will untempt you. Are ye in delight of harmony, the Waits perhaps at your window, to give you the time of the day? Let this make work for your faith, and quicken it, and make it eager after her heavenly harmony. Are ye melancholy at misfortune, discontent with distress, dazzled with gloomy weather, afflicted with reproach or obloquy? Repair to your lively faith; and it will banish all discomfort. Your field music, and trumpets, that make you couch your lances, and your horses stamp under you, let these be your alarms against your triple enemy, that baricado the way between you and heaven. Let your inward trumpet sound with your outward, to spend your spirits, and animate your souls, against any proffer to beat you from heaven. Do ye know what heaven is? that noble heaven; that golden heaven; that glorious and delightful heaven; that everlasting heaven; where Angels beckon you, and look every day for you, and will ye be beaten from it? Do ye know your right to it, the ancienty of your title, and the price was given for it; and will ye be beaten from it with any fire, or sword, or haply with a lewd look of an intemperate eye? Oh far be these from your Christian manhood; far be it from your own self love; far be it from your baptism, and grace of God in you. But me thinks I see heroical signs in you: your faith leaps in your faces, your heart is in flames, and your spirit replenished with resolution, which gives great hope that the gates of hell will never prevail against against you, nor stop you of your way, your way to heavenward I say, which I have painted & pointed you unto. Haste ye thither, and run a pace, put wings to your wills, and outstrip all impediments: I conclude with Saint Paul. Sic currite ut comprehendatis, 
1. Cor. 9  So run, as ye may catch. So run, as ye may obtain what ye run for. Let no man say he is fat, 
Esa. 35.  and pursy, and grown past running: For God hath promised him the feet of a Stag, if he do but his good will. 
Abac 3.  Let no man say he is old, feeble and weak; and cannot break ill custom, for he must know, that Virtus in infirmitate perficitur, 
2. Cor. 12. Luc. 15.  The weaker a man is, the greater is God's glory in the combat. Christ will take ye up upon his shoulders, and run away with you, if you will but take the pains to get up. Sic currite, so run saith he. Almost all the world runs backward, and yet they run. But this is not Sic currite. Run ye forward I beseech you. There be some also that run about, 
Psal. 11.  yet run, In circuitu impij ambulant, The wicked walk in a circuit: will ye know what this is? They that walk the way of ambition and emulation, They that walk the way of pleasure and delight, They that walk the way of riches, and ease, it is a great adventure, they will never arrive at the happiness we speak of, not that rich folk cannot come to heaven; but they that seek riches, and lay to heap riches. Not, that men cannot win heaven that have pleasure; but they that seek pleasure, and pour themselves out upon it. Not, that kings, and princes, and honourable persons, Bishops, Archbishops, and such like have no part in our heavenly kingdom; but they that aspire after greatness, aspire after kingdoms, and labour after prelacy, and Sublimity in the world: all these I say run round in a circle, and wax giddy withal. They are drowned in their own desires, and cannot breathe for it. They are borne so down with their burden on their backs, that it is impossible to make way. The word is (ambulant) they do but walk, not run; and to run thus, is not Sic currite. Run ye the next way be sure, and lose no ground. Some again there be, that run with the Hare as they say, and hold with the hound. They fly vice, and yet incline to vice, fly one temptation and entertain another; fly the act, and delight in thought. Oh this is not Sic currite. Long shall they so run, and never catch. We are bidden so run, as we may obtain. This word [run] excludes all dalliance, and delay. We must not stand at a stay, nor look behind us. This word [obtain] includes perseverance, to hold it out to the end. To run therefore without weariness, to go forward still without repentance; this is indeed Sic currite: this is to run so as the Apostle will have us. The only enemy to perseverance, is idle, uncertain, and unsettled life. Make yourselves business always, that may be good: and then let no alteration of time, or place hinder you; no hard fortune disarm you; no fawning of any friends unstrengthen you. Let your word be Semper idem. He that knows ye now, and sees you not again of twenty years together; let him find you the same, or better. Let all your neighbour's report of your sweetness, all your acquaintance take example by you of much goodness, and fetch fire at your fervour.  
FINIS.    


TO THE RIGHT HONOURABLE HIS VERY GOOD LORD, EDWARD EARL OF Worcester.  
SIR, the place you have for honour and arms, with my bounden duty together, have moved me to dedicate to your Honour, this part of my labours: wherein I bring you not a grape of mine own planting, or a Pome-deroy, or a Musk-million; but a posy of mine own picking out of other men's gardens. My hope is, you will not look into the meanness of my performance, but the merit of the subject: wherein yourself have also laboured right nobly, and much more profitably would, if gentlemen as they be true gentlemen, would become your true followers. To them I speak in this little treatise, and not to you, but learn of you. And so with all humility wishing you health and longer years, I take my leave of your Lordship.  
All your good Lordships to command W. Wiseman.   

THE FIRST CHARGE BY THE DUKE against Duellum.  
RIght noble audience, and fellows at arms. I have invited you hither to day for your good company, which I can never be weary of: and partly also out of the abundance of my heart, to impart unto you somewhat, that may stead you hereafter, wheresoever ye become. Ye have been pleased ere now, to hear your generals voice half an hour together. And it hath been I think for your good. My words concluded then with commanding, but now with entreating, and mutual embracing. Men of peace may be to seek in time of wars. So you, that come newly from the wars, may be to seek of your carriage in time of peace. Ye were men of sort, and noble, the most of ye, before ye came hither. And ye have lost no reputation by your coming, but shall return into your countries (I doubt not) with much increase of honour. Honour in regard of your own approved valour. Honour in respect of the cause, and quarrel ye have spent your time in, and much of your blood. For what more Honourable, then to fight against the great devourer of Christianity, the upbraider of Jsraell, and blasphemer of the Son of God, Christ jesus? Yea, how much more honourable this, then to waste our Jrascible part upon one another at home? Not only to fight and kill, if we can; but when we have done our worst, to bear malice, and deadly feud still, and sometimes, as long as we live. A very bad use in our country. Even family against family, and man against man, without all moderation. Those whom God gave his life for, we will take life from. Those whom he suffered pain for, we would put to pain if we could, or to shame if we cannot. Those who by generation, or regeneration, should be our brothers, and all one with us, all selected children of one God, and partners of one blessing; we seek to dishonour by word, or deed, upon every light occasion. We that should bear one another's burden, and do as we would be done to, we do the contrary, heap coals one upon another, deem the worst of every body, as we list, never reflect upon God's Law, or man's Law, but how to wreak our anger, and make our humours therein both judge, and hangman.  
Thanks be to God, our hand hath not been hitherto in our neighbour's blood. We have spent our anger, and fury, where it can never be ill, or better bestowed, upon the grand-enemies of God, our new Philistims. Whom to strike is duty, to kill is Honour, and to be killed of them a sacrifice. There to fight, we are sure is God's battle; there to be valiant, is true valour; there, fear we no injustice in the worst we can; nor need to be over scrupulous to thrust our sword in up to the hilts. There to turn our backs is cowardice; there to be afraid, is to be white liuered; there, to show pity, were impiety; and they that should be fainting, or faulty therein, might be truly charged with dishonour. The cause just, and honourable; the quarrel Gods, not ours; commanded by lawful authority, not by human levity. The honour ours, if we win; no dishonour, if we lose, so we do our endeavour.  
There be men, too few for ought I see, to be employed in that honourable service. And yet we fight, and wrangle, and kill up one another at home, and rob the Christian commonweal of their interest in us, without mercy, pity, or true manhood indeed, as I shall prove unto you. If our idle spirits at home did but see, what we have seen, the inundation of hellhounds, that have come down upon us by hundreds of thousands at once, their noise of armour, horses, and howling; their pride, and fury against us, the air filled with trumpet, fife, and drum, as if it were dooms day; our voice crying out the whilst to God, and Christians, to come help us: men would not be so idle and home-bredde, as they be (for want of an enemy to poke and push at one another as they do; but would covet to fight where men fight, and die where men die, and shall have glory, and renown for it.  
When ye come in your country again, ye shall find those, even such as ye left behind you, when you came hither; that never saw army in their life, and yet will give laws of chivalry; know not how to trail a pike like a soldier, and yet will brave a soldier to his face; were never officers in the field, and yet if they have been at the University a while, and have read a little of Livy, or plutarch's lives; and then come new to court, or Inns of court: they think themselves strait to be Scipio's, or Hannibals, and fall to practising; and do as they see others do; learn to give the lie bravely, or to use the fist, or poniard at the entering. It is the fault of youth, and of the times; and there be too many of them at this day, but I hope there will be fewer. Years, time, and better knowledge of themselves, and of their own worth, will bring them more discretion. Mean time, I would there were not so many also of judgement sufficient, and of elder sort, that think it valiant to be stirred quickly, a word, and a blow with them, or spit in his face, and in the field next morning, to kill or to be killed. And this not only they do, but think it lawful to do, and think it base, and cowardly not to do.  
It is undoubted, that Honour is a great ornament to him that hath it, and every one seeks it in his degree, and rank. And our country is as fruitful of Honourable, and well endued persons, as any nation in the world; and as quickly it is seen by them, as soon almost, as they have cast off their long coats. And as well furnished ye shall find them with matter fit to support their honour, when they come to years; as either for manhood, valour, strength, activity, or nobleness of mind. All which as they be virtues well beseeming gentlemen, and men may do much to uphold them; so is it a most unworthy thing, and worthiest of punishment, that they should receive blemish by any wrong.  
The most of you (as I said before) are men of sort, and as ye have all deserved well, and none of you the contrary: so is it necessary ye should maintain your Honour in places where ye come. But how? In Honourable sort, without dishonour to God, or disgrace to your country, or Sovereign. And it will be expected in these corrupted, and malevolous times; yea God will ask it at your hands, being men at arms, and never yet touched with the least cowardice, no not when they have been five to one (I will not say ten to one) that ye should show good example to your countrymen; and that your actions should be their instructions, your good experience their better learning, and your carriage their rule, that have not such cause to know what you know, or not so well as you, in regard of the long time, and place, ye have served in, where questions of Honour have daily risen, and were seldom suffered by superiors to come to blood, if they had authority to restrain them.  
The world is full of wrangles, and the good, and patiented are abused, and abased every where. Pride, and disdain have filled all things with debate. One backbites, another is incensed; one doth unkindly, another taketh it ill; one means well, the other mistaketh it; one gives a contumely, another deals a blow; and in all these is wisdom required, to carry an even hand. And because I would not wish you to take so much wrong; nor yet to right yourselves with any unrighteousness: I think it good to let you know, and it is fit ye should always remember your duty to God, and the world, and to forget yourselves as little as ye can, in hot blood, or in cold. By hot blood I mean all sudden things, before we can well deliberate. By cold I mean, when the heat is gone, but desire of revenge remaineth. To the first belongeth jangling, brawling, blows, foul speeches, and multiplying. To the second belong the dregs of the former, after they be parted. The first hath commonly present execution while the fire is yet hot. The second hath time to pause; and if he do amiss, the fault is the greater. The first can never be without offence in the cause giver, whether it come of heat, mistaking, or scorn. For how can ye miscall one, or give approbious words without sin; neither is it without offence in the answerer, though not so great.  
He is more than a man, or less than a man, that can put up a contumely on a sudden. 
Cap. 7.8.  And therefore it is written in Ecclesiastes: Calumnia conturbat sapientem, A disgrace, or contumely will trouble a wise man. S. 
Act. 23.  Paul himself might seem humanum pati, when he called him whited wall, that made him be smitten. What marvel then, if Achilles smote Thirsites for his foul mouth, though otherwise a man, that was not easily moved. The best men will not soon give cause. But vir iracundus provocat rixas, A hastle man, 
Prou. 15.  or a choleric sir will still be quarreling, and provoking; ever urging, ever misconstruing, never without a caprich, or two in store. An other man as good as he, will never do it, but leave it to scouldes in allies, and alehouses. He will always keep himself in compass of manhood as near as he can, and never debase himself to such unworthy doings.  
And there is a plain precept for it, Nolite provocare, 
Eph. 6.  If I may not urge my child, or servants to anger, how much less my fellow, or my better. The law gives favour to man slaughter, if he be provoked. But there is not a greater infamy to a noble person, then to provoke or to be accounted a quarreler. It is unbecoming a woman, much more a man at arms. Quips, girds, flauntes, taunts; far be they from ye I beseech you. They are but seeds of scolding, the scum of a woman's wit; though some women delight in it, and think it worth printing every word they speak. Words breed quarrels, and of quarreling comes bloodshed. An old Colonel of ours rejoiced on his death bed; that having been in many broils in his life, and many times provoked, he never gave cause of quarrel by word or deed, and yet he would not turn his face from any man breathing.  
To detract, or reveal a man's secret, if it be not against the state, or much hurtful to his friend, is very unworthy a gentleman, and breedeth much quarrel. A man of sort would be loath to be thought a blab, or tell-tale. It gins with idleness, and ends with damnation. Granado saith there be multitudes in hell for nothing else, but this. They say there would be no thieves, if there were no receivers. And surely there would be no pickethankes, or slanderers, if there were no hearers to delight in them. 
Possid.  S. Augustine had written about his dining board these verses: 

Quisquis amat dictis absentum rodere vitam,  
Hanc mensam vetitam noverit esse sibi.   

This table them forbidden is,  
In English thus  
That of the absent speak amiss.   Nemo sine crimine vivit, No man lives without a fault. But he that proclaimeth it, is worse than he, Abhominatio hominum detractor, 
Prou. 24.  the backe-biter is holden abominable; and to be shunned as a venomous thing. And for this cause only it hath been allowed in Italy, that the wronged should give the wronger a Cartella, to fight with him. How justly, I will not now speak. Neither speak I of the sin to Godward; which I leave wholly to preachers. I touch it only in point of dishonour, and as they be aspersions to reputation; which both the wronger is bound to recompense, and the wronged may justly require. I touch them as they be make-bates, and leave a stain behind them in another's coat, being slanderous, and scandalous to fame, and sooner raised, then removed, if not repaired in time. Conturbat sapientem, It troubles a right wise body, to have the lie, or a foul word given him, which we use to our Page, or varlet. Conturbat sapientem, To have a frump, or a scoff, or a bore in the nose; much more a stripe, or a trip at his heels; and no marvel if it cost blood, or sound blows, ere they part. These matters are holden as small with us, as they be common. But the Romans held them very shameful, and censors taxed the cause-giver with ignominy, and shame, which they used not to any man, but upon great cause, 
Plut. vit.  besides loss of his horse.  
To you my dear country men, and friends (I must tell you) it is the principal scope of my speech; that howsoever your sudden occasions of heat may carry you at any time somewhat further then upon advisement you would, to break the peace or bond of charity with any; and for which I can give you no other rule, than the measure of God's grace in you: yet upon time of deliberation, and space between; that is to say upon cold blood, which was the other part I spoke of, I do wish much, and if I might I would command you, as we do in the wars, that ye neither challenge your opposite into the field upon any occasion; or if ye be challenged; that ye do not accept it. Being a thing, both heinous in the sight of God to do, and no less than heresy to think ye may do. This may be news to some of you. But not so new, as true. Evil fashions drive old folks to School again. And the eldest of you is not too old to learn, if any of ye be possessed with that pestiferous opinion. That it is heinous, and sinful, it appears by this, for that it is against the law of God, of nature, and nations. If against the law of God, than heresy also to hold it lawful. This is in short, but I will make it more plain to you, because it is a thing, ye must inform yourselves in, and it is gross to be ignorant of.  
Single combat is honourable, if it be in just war, or commanded by the Prince, or commonweal. As David did against Goliath, for avoiding of bloodshed of many by the blood of one. Many in this kind we find in histories, of one to one, or more to more, to weaken or discourage the contrary; and we read them willingly in our books. And God hath favoured it so, that it hath saved the lives of many for the time. We have also an ancient trial for title of land, or appeals of felony by single combat, where matters be so obscure, or otherwise carried, that common law or justice can hardly decide them. And the form is yet in use, but seldom suffered by Magistrates to take effect, as savouring more of heathenish times, when such customs began, then of Christian lenity, which thanks be to God hath almost worn it away. This kind of combat also is needful sometimes, and men be forced to it in defence of ones person, or purse, or honour, to avoid a bastinado, or such like disgrace. But this must be as the learned say out of Saint Augustine, in delicto flagrant, upon assault, 
Navar.  or a wait; and cum moderamine in culpatae tutelae, Intending only their just defence, and not otherwise. It must not be, if any means else be by flying back, or stepping aside says the Law. But I hold it probable with others, that if one assault me, let him stand to his peril; he forces me to fight; I meet him not of purpose, nor upon challenge, which I may not do, nor any authority upon earth can give leave to do, nor scarce connive with, against the law of God, thou shalt not kill.  
The learned hold, 
Exod 20.  that by killing here, is understood murder. And this difference is between killing, and murdering, as between an act done of authority, and of our own head. Killing is lawful for justice, and for example. Murder always unlawful, and damnable. And not only the act of murder, but all that tends to the act is hateful to God, and his Angels. Your challenging, or accepting, your providing weapons, and preparing them, your going out of doers, and entering the field; the drawing of your sword, hitting, missing, wounding, maiming, killing or not killing; every one of these is detestable, and abominable; every step you set forward in this business, is a step to hell, and irrevocable woe. And that this is true which I say, or shall say, I could bring you excellent authorities out of divine writers, that handle these matters in particular, and purposely; in their titles of Homicide, duellum, and tempting of God.  
But my purpose is not to read you a lecture, or to make you any long discourse with vouching, or proving. And if ye think me wrong, or that I grate over hard upon any man's distemper, ask any that have learning, and cure of your souls, and they will tell you as much, and will show it you out of their books, if ye will believe them. And ye ought to believe them in their own art, as ye will be believed in yours. You know best, how to use your weapon; they know best when ye may draw it. And this was that Saint John Baptist taught soldiers, and gave them directions in, both for justice, and charity, when they came unto him, to know, what they should do. The Church lives now by the same breath it did then, and the spirit of the Precursor perished not with his person. His doctrine, and directions do still remain in the breast of our pastors, with whom I have conferred ere now, and have read somewhat myself; and what I find by some study, and conference, I willingly impart unto you out of my love. Even that which hath cost me many hours, and days, I lay before you, as court keepers do, in an hours charge; both what ye must know in this business, if ye be ignorant; and what ye must practise, and are bound to forbear, when ye know it.  
The law of God is directly, you may not kill. And Christ adds a curse to it, Qui gladium acceperit, gladio peribit, He that shall take the sword in his hand, shall perish by the sword. Virum sanguinum, & dolosum abhominabitur dominus, God will detest him, and hold him abominable, 
Mat. 6. Psal. 5.  that will steal the sword out of the magistrates hand: for what is this virum sanguinum, & dolosum here, the man of blood, in guile; but he that steals revenge, and rights himself so as public justice shall not know of it? Ye see what the Psalm saith of him. God will hold him abominable. And in another place if I be not much deceived, we are forbidden directly to do it, with a grievous curse annexed thereunto by the Holy Ghost itself, the words be these: Cum audace non eas in desertum, 
Eccl. 8.19.  Go not out with an audacious body into the desert, (saith he) Go not out alone as Duellers do. For here be both parties touched very plainly as I take it. First the cause giver by this word audacious, or foolehardy; so called here, Quia quasi nihil est apud eum sanguis, Because bloodshed (saith he) is as nothing to him. Likewise, the wronged by this word [non eas] Go not thou, or be thou not audacious as he is. Go not into the field with him. Vbi non est adiutorium elidet te, God will give thee over for thy temerity, that he shall kill thee, though thou be a better man than he. Thou hast withdrawn thyself from man, and God hath withdrawn himself from thee. Non est adiutorium, How canst thou speed well, that hast neither God, nor man on thy side? These Scriptures and many more, being so evident against it; I doubt not to add, and infer upon it, that it is not only sin to do, but also heresy to hold. What is heresy, if this be not heresy? We need not a council to make it heresy, when Scripture is contrary to it, as black is to white. It is heresy to hold fornication lawful, swearing lawful, stealing lawful, and so killing lawful. And he that seethe not this to be sin, his opinion herein may well be his punishment for his sin.  
Haply they will distinguish and think it heresy with me for wilful murder, but not for this. It is one thing to come behind a man, and kill him cowardly, another thing to go into the field with him upon equal terms, with like weapons, like health, and strength, to try their fortunes by manhood; and this they will not be persuaded to be heresy in holding, or scarce sin in doing. What shall a man dare me, and thou me to my face (say they) and bid me meet him if I dare; and shall I not dare to meet him without heresy, or sin? grace they say helpeth nature, not destroyeth it, and the nature of man is gloriae appetens, desirous of honour, and differs from a beast in nothing more, then in this. Take honour, and reputation from us, and take away our life. They go forward also, and tell of many worthy persons, that have lost their lives thus for their honour; and it were impiety to judge them of heresy, or damnation, being otherwise known while they lived, to have many good parts, and virtues in them, which made them gracious in the world. Neither do I hate my enemy say they, when I ask my due with my sword; no more than plaintiffs and defendants do in their suits of law. They sue for their goods, and we for our honour. And then they fall to reckoning; what good hath come of it sometimes, when the impostume of their stomachs, and courages hath been broken with some blows, they have been greater friends after, then ever enemies before. And this is commonly the effect of their Argument, the sum of all they can say. And it is no hard matter to answer.  
I will not speak of the dead, they be gone, and God forbidden I should judge them. Many brave men have pitifully perished that way. And what time they had for repentance, or how far their ignorance might excuse them, I know not. God's mercies do so far prevail with his justice; that we must leave it to him. I speak of those, and to those, that be living. Neither like I that friendship they speak of, that comes of sin, 
Luk. 23.  like Herod and Pilate made friends by killing of Christ. We are forbidden expressly, not to kill at all. How can they think that they may kill, but it must be heresy? God saith they may not, they say they may. Their distinction between wilful murder, and this, is somewhat, but not for this purpose. It shows the one sin to be more beastly, and cowardly than the other, not that the other is no sin; or not heresy to hold so. They may prove aswell fornication to be lawful, so they mean to marry after; lawful to steal, so they mean to restore, when they are able; lawful to swear idly all the oaths of God, so they do not forswear; yet all this is sin to do, and heresy to hold; and such distinctions will not save it either from God's law, or from man's. And for graces helping of nature; that is nothing to our matter. Grace helps nature in good things, not in bad. And it is blasphemy to use the word grace in that sort, as to animate us to sin, or to breaking of charity, or to get honour so dishonourably.  
They say they hate not their enemy. I answer, they shall not be judged by their sayings, but by their doings. If they do the acts of hatred, their sayings are but colours. Make the best of their case, that they go not to fight, that they go not to kill, but to defend if need be, and to show themselves only, that they dare meet their enemy in the field, and be as good as their word. If he draw (say they) I will draw. If not, I have nothing to say to him. I will never assault him. But this is too mathematical. How many be there that go so into the field? and yet most of us know two noble young gentlemen now dead; my Lord of Digion, and Count La-vall. This latter had been somewhat wild, but much reclaimed of late. These two had been at high words, and comparisons, and Digion challenged him, and they met next day accordingly with either of them a Page. La-vall threw off his cloak, and his rapier after it undrawne; and told Digion he would not fight. Why comest thou hither then said he? because I promised thee said La-vall, and my word slipped from me by chance. And yet I fear thee not (said he) but I will not displease God, for a better man than thou. Thou hast done me wrong, and I have done thee some; and so he fell a dancing, with a turn and a half above the ground. Digion was angry, and told him he would disgrace him, and make a boy of him, if he would not fight. And therewithal came towards him with a light thrust. La-vall put it by with his dagger, and followed it quickly with a close. Digions foot slipped, and fell, and La-vall upon him, saying: now I could send thee to the devil: but thou shalt go to the Bishop first for absolution, and so gave him a kiss on his cheek, and returned both friends, and did great service here against the Turk after that; where they lost their lives with as much honour as might be, as the world doth know. But how many be there, that go so scrupulously into the field as he did? And yet this going is sinful, and unexcusable, and by God forbidden, though ye make the best of it ye can.  
When God forbids murder, he forbids three things. The act, the intention, and all manner of concurring. The act is damnable, the intention of killing is damnable without act; and the least concurring that is, comes little short of it. And there be nine manners of concurring, as may appear by an old distich. 
jussio, consilium, consensus, palpo, recursus,  
Participans, mutus, non obstans, non manifestans.  Here be nine words according to the several ways of concurring either to murder, or any other notorious sin; as the learned do define. And it is heresy to defend the least of them. Ye would think consensus, and palpo, were but small matters; the one for consenting that a couple should fight, the other for animating, and encouraging them to fight, by praising it, and soothing them up. These be the least, and yet very grievous matters, and commonwealths, and laws take hold of them in case of felony, or treason, and they are punished little less than principals. Even so in God's court, the curious looking on, or negligence in parting, is involved in the same sin, and censure. 
1 Reg. 4.  Heli was pitifully punished for winking at his sons abuses, and not punishing them. Consentientes, et agentes pari pena plectentur, says the law. And Saulus erat consentiens neci eius. Saul was as deep in the murder of Saint Stephen for standing by, and keeping their clothes, as others that stoned him. 
Act. 8.  This is the law of consenters, this the law for counsellors, and abetters; this for flatterers, and encouragers, how much more than for actors, and deede-doers.  
More than this I have known, where the party could never be proved to know or consent to murder, and yet hath justly suffered for it. As it happened lately in Tholosa, where a great justice was done upon Madamoisella violenta, a young woman of good breeding, beauty, and comeliness, if she had been honest. But she was kept by two, a merchant, and an Augustine friar. Who to colour their lewdness, put a husband to her. This husband deceived their expectation, and sent her into the country twenty mile off, that he might have her alone to himself. But this cost him his life. For he was murdered on an evening in the backside of the town as he was crossing the fields. The procurers, and one or two more were executed for it, and the poor woman for company, that knew nothing, as I said. said, for my reasons aforesaid. What should I speak now of the commonest practice at this day? their bow bend, their stomach penned, till they be at it. Their doings bewray their intentions. They say, and swear sometimes, that they will kill, or be killed. They search one another to the skin, that there be no let of speeding; run at tilt one at another, to be sure to speed; two courses make an end of one, or both. And if one of them chance to be scrupulous, how long will it last, if a wound begin to smart once, or the blood to cover their eyes? how can these escape the vengeance of God, that go to kill, or be killed, and glory in it, when they have done. He shall be praised of men for it; shall be called stout, a man of his hands, a brave man; and why? he hath killed two or three. So profane we be grown; not satisfied with doing ill, but we must glory in it. Diabolus est homicida, 
1 joh.  The devil is a murderer, and we will be next cousins to him.  
Can any thing be more against God, than this? Is it not strange in a Christian, to think this honourable, or good, that dishonours God so much? Be there any heretics in the world, if these be not heretics? Be they not justly excommunicated by holy Church, justly forbidden burial in Church, or Churchyard? and not only they; but their abetters, aiders, and encouragers, and lookers on? so hateful is it in the sight of God, and the Church our mother; and so dangerous to the souls of the poor Combatants, that are all excommunicate in terrorem, even to the slander by. The party slain is forbidden burial for two causes, unless he had time to repent him, and gave good signs of it, and denied not his enemy forgiveness. The one is, because he dies excommunicate: the other because he kills himself, and is in case of felo de se, by reason aforesaid. Mark my words well I beseech you, and be well advised on the matter; especially, if any of ye be of that opinion, overswaied with the time. The more ye wade into the business, the truer you shall find my words. Blind not yourselves with ill custom. Let not the newness of it, (if it be new) diminish the credit of it in your green conceits. The law of God I am sure is not new, how new soever in our practice. What should I say more to Christians?  
Yet somewhat I should also say of the law of nature, or nations, which was long before this. The law of nature was quicunque effuderit sanguinem humanum, 
Gen. 9.6.  fundetur sanguis illius, His blood shall be spilled, that spills the blood of another. This is the book of Genesis. And if a man will have a reason of it, a reason is there given. Ad imaginem quip Dei factus est homo, He that kills a man, kills the image of God; Why should I spite him, or malice him? He is my own Image, though never so hateful in my eye; why should I strike him, except God bid strike, or the common weal? But note I beseech you the punishment annexed to it. Blood will have blood. Fundetur sanguis illius, 
ibid. 18.  It shall cost him his life. And the Hebrew hath per hominem. As he killed a man, so a man shall kill him again. That is to say the magistrate, or executioner, by lex talionis. And this hath been the practice of all nations. No hiding would serve their turn, but they were met withal at one time, or other, as heathens themselves have noted, and have admired God's providence in it. And if some have escaped, yet this breaks no rule, but among Epicures; who attribute all to fortune, while God (they think) is a sleep, or never minds us.  
Against whom I remember a grave saying of Isocrates in his Oration the pace; wishing them if they be wise, not to hope of impunity, because some are not punished. For if there be some that escape (saith he) yet the most do not. And therefore it were wisdom to provide for that, which is most common, and likely. And it is most fond (saith he) when God is known to love justice, to think that he cares not for the just; or that the wronged shall have worse fortune than the wronger. Thus he. And truly it is an old tradition of the jews, that Cain himself, before ever there were Magistrates, could not escape this heavy judgement, to be killed by man, although he had a mark set on him, that none should kill him. But such was God's judgement, as he could not avoid it. Blind Lamech slew him by mere chance. And this tradition is affirmed in effect by scripture in Lameches own words, saying: Occidi virum in vulnus meum: septuplum vultio dabitur de Cain; I have killed a man to my own wound, 
Gen. 4.  seavenfold revenge will be given to Caine.  
Kings themselves, that are heads of magistrates, could not avoid this animadversion. 
1 Reg. 22.  Saul for killing the fourscore Priests, lost his own life, and his sons life, and a kingdom beside. David lost his child (when he had rather perhaps have lost his life) for murdering Urias. 
2 Reg. 11.  Queen jesabel, and Achab both slain, and seventy of his sons for kill Naboth. And although our Duellors' fault were not so cowardly, or tyrannical as these: yet our Ancestors have holden it a great unhappiness, to kill one by chance, or with least fault; and that many disasters belong to it, if they pray not the more earnestly all the days of their life. How much more then, if the chance were by notable negligence, as fencing, wrestling, throwing a stone at a dog, and hit a child, coyting over a house without warning to passengers. 
Scholia Raym.  These, and such like, had a sevenfold curse, as it was upon him, that killed Cain, though it were by casualty. And hereof I think it was, that seven years penance was inflicted by the old Church for such acts. Where now it is brought to one; besides imperial laws for the outward offence. How much more yet, if the chance were of an unlawful act; but most of all, if of a bloody, or of a revengeful mind, as it is with Duellors. King David saith; 
Psal. 54.  their days shall be cut into half. Viri sanguinum non dimidiabunt dies suos.  
But to return to our matter; and to leave the Scriptures, and Church laws; because they be not altogether our profession, and the word, and the sword seem contraries, and they that be ill disposed have no skill of it: 
Mat.  For as St. Hilary saith: Sermo Dei carnalibus tenebrae sunt, & verbum Dei infidelibus nox est, Scripture is dark to the carnal, and night to the unbelieving: Let us stir up therefore the light of nature in us, and see what nature tells us, and the practice of worthies, that is received, and commended of all. Wereade of noble heathens, that killed themselves; But they are not commended for it. Some others had other vices, and are condemned for it by good writers. But what they have practised, and are commended for by the best, is likely to be good; and what they used not, neither is written of them that ever they did, is likely to be nought, and unworthy the worthiest.  
The trumpets of nature, and virtue, are Philosophers, Poets, and histories. These acknowledge no such trial of manhood, when they discourse of fortitude, and magnanimity, the two virtues, that gentlemen so much aim at. They talk of honour, ignominy, contumely, and disgrace. They will not have a stout man put up injuries basely. They touch many particular behaviours belonging to him. His speech sober, without a word unbeseeming; his actions advised, 
Arist. eth.  without touch of temerity; his carriage grave, and staid, without levity; in righting himself, not over hasty; if angry, yet not forgetting himself. They descend particularly, to tell how he must go, and with what composition of body, on horseback, or on foot, in all things worthy of themselves, and not a word of combat; unless it were for their country, or commonweal. Ye shall not find such an instance in Plato, Plutarch, Seneca; not in Aristotle the prince of Philosophers, 
Strabo.  and was himself a soldier also in the battle of Corronea. Not in all Homer, who was (as a man would say) the light of nature speaking, and the setter out of all heroical virtues, in the practice of great Princes. His work was Alexander's looking glass, and was never out of his hand. Tully says, he that can repulse an injury and will not, offends as much as if he forsook his friends, and kinsfolk. But he talks of no repulsing by fight. He bids us pugna pro patria, Fight for our country, but not for our private.  
Many private grudges ye shall read of upon malice, and emulation amongst them. But wisely carried, and never breaking out to this enormity we speak of. Agamemnon wronged Achilles, to take his mistress from him, and some bitter words passed between, them for it; but neither blow, nor challenge. Many jars between Palamedes and Ulysses always, but no challenge. Some between Fabius and Minutius, between Aristides and Themistocles, and between Cymon and Pericles, Pompey and Lucullus, Craterus and Ephestion, 
Comines  Castinus. and Boniface, Bellisarius and Narses. And of later times, when the Earl of St. Paul gave the lie to the Lord Himbercourt; and the Duke of Orleans gave the like to the Prince of Orange, all brave men, and knights of the field, and a multitude beside, which were tedious to recite; yet none came to challenge; but either they thought it enough, to have given their opposite as good as they brought, or have left revenge to God, or justice, or to mediation of friends, as cause required, or have yielded to time, person, or place, for their greater honour afterward; as Achilles and Metellus did; or tried their valour against their common enemy, as Valerius and Cecinna did under the Emperor Vitellius.  
And yet upon accusation of treason in great persons, 
Suet.  where other proofs be not pregnant enough, as it was in Richard the seconds time between Hereford, and Mowbrey. Dictis writes of Palamedes that he challenged all his peers to fight with them one after another. But they would not, being all fellows and colleagues with him. No more would Otho Duke of Bavaria with his accuser Egino, though much urged thereunto by the Emperor Henry the fourth; and yet the history calls this Duke Prudentia & rebus bellicis admirabilem. 
Naucl.  But he chose rather to lose his Dukedom, and so did. And yet I must tell you; as this Emperor was greatly blamed by his own mother, a most worthy woman, and by all the Princes, except a few, who set him on to this injustice: so can I not but marvel at two of our later Kings, the one of France, the other of England; the one so prudent and pious, as he was, that he gave way so easily, to a combat between two noble gentlemen Sir james Parker, and Hugh Vaughan upon a far less quarrel then false accusation; wherein the knight was run through the mouth at the second course by fault of his helmet, and his tongue borne back to his neck, whereof he instantly died. The other of France began his reign with blood; giving way to a combat between Jarnac and Chastenroy, upon no great matter, but to grace his triumph with: where Jarnac though newly recovered of an ague, defeated the other at length, & killed him in the place. Neither of the kings much fortunate by it. The one was killed by Mongomery in like triumph at tilting after a short reign: the other held not his crown so void of fear, and jealousy, as other kings after him. And yet I marvel much more at other Princes of our time, who in their triumphs and jovial feasts, allow of those dangerous and damnable sports of Jogo de toro, and Jogo de Canna, which commonly cost killing, & cannot be avoided. It is too like that Roman custom of fencers, & swordplayers, & those that knew not God. 
Lib. 28.  Who set their lives & blood to sale as Livy saith, for pastime to their Lords, or in honour of some feast, or general's fortune; where they spared not at sharp, to kill one another, if they could. And so they continued many hundred years; and was not quite abolished by Christian Emperors till the time of Honorius, as Theod. writes. 
in Hono. Steph. in Aphida. Just.   
Yet nothing more frequent in histories then single fight, as that of Patroclus and Hector, Hector & Achilles, Xanthus and Melanthus for the kingdom of Athens, Codoman and another for the kingdom of Armenia, the three curiates and Horace's in Rome, Tullius & Metius, 
Florus  Manlius. & a french man, an other french man and Valerius, Alexander & Porus, Ferracutus the Sarazen giant & Rolandus, and of later times between Turks and us, where thanks be to God they went ever by the worst. But all these were iure belli (as I said before) from contrary enemies. And of all the combats that Marcus Servilius fought for life, & death, which were three and twenty, and he conqueror in all; 
Plut. in Emilius.  I read not of any to be with his compatriot, but all with public enemies in lawful wars. And that was never upon their own heads neither, but with consent of Generals, as we read in Livy. 
Lib. 7.  Yea though a man be challenged by name from the other side, as Titus Manlius was, and where it seemed reproachful to have refused it, yet it cost him his life the accepting of it. I will tell you the history.  
The law of arms is, that none should fight in the wars out of their rank, but by direction of the commanders. Manlius the father was general against the Latins at Capua. The son had charge of a troop of horsemen, and was sent to discover the coasts of the enemy. Where coming within an arrow shot of the corpse deguard, which Geminius Metius a valiant knight had leading of, they fell to some big, and daring words, & the Latin challenged the Roman to break a staff with him. Young Manlius his blood was up at this, and thinking it a shame to him to refuse him, he advanced himself to the business; they ran their horses in full career one against the other with spear in rest. Manlius with lance aloft glided over, and razed the enemy's headpiece. Metius gave the other a light thrust upon his horse neck with point of spear. Then turning their horses about, Manlius came first upon him with a second charge, and so redoubled the push, that he pierced the others horse between the ears, which put him to such pain, that he never left rearing, and capering with his forefeet, and flinging down his head till he cast his rider. Who as he bore his spear and shield, to raise himself from so grievous a fall, Manlius ran him in at the throat and so through the ribs stuck him fast to the ground, killed him, spoiled him, carried the spoil away to his own troop, and had sentence of death on him presently for it, from his own father, in lieu of reward. The judgement I grant was severe. And the execution prosecuted with much compassion, and tears. Yet none could say but it was just, and the punishment answerable to his fault. And of great example it was, to reduce broken discipline to the ancient rule, as it would among us now, if gentle means would not serve. Some difference indeed there is in our cases. Theirs was in time of wars, where challenges are lawful. Ours in time of peace, where is no challenge lawful. Yet in this they agree. There, they might not do it without leave of superiors; here much less; yet if they have leave, I think it be less sinful.  
And surely if we enter but into the causes of private combat; which are commonly two; there is neither of both that will make the act justifiable. The one is revenge, the other is reputation. And first for revenge; which is common also to beasts and savages, and is more in savages then in men; and therefore men must not do as they do; so revenge be, they care not how it be. Men I say must look higher than so, and then they shall find this cause to be no cause, unless they will stand in defiance with all civil government, and God himself, who tells us plainly to the contrary, Mihi vindictam saith he, et ego retribuam. 
Rom 12.  He reserves revenge to himself, and to princes under him. And who is he, dares say again, Non tibi domine, sed mihi, Revenge is mine, and none of thine, I will right myself. And in another place it is said, Ne dixiris, 
Prou. 20.21 Aug. in Steph.  ulciscar de inimicis meis, Do not so much as say I will be revenged of mine enemies. And therefore, if we may not say it, much less may we do it. Read all the civil laws that ever were, and see whether the sword were put into the parties own hand. It is tolerated in Italy as I said before, as the stews be, to avoid further mischief, and no otherwise. As God did likewise by the jews, that were a nation of all others most revengeful; he gave some way to their stiffness, that the next of kin to the party slain, 
Num. 35.19  might kill the killer when he could. But this was abolished by the coming of Christ. Neither was it permitted him to kill, until the people had given sentence; as it appears by the text. 
Vers. 24. Vers. 27.  Yea so far was the law from allowing otherwise this private revenge; and so heavily taxed it all manner of manslaughter; that if it were but chance medley, or in defence of ones self, a man was not freed from the rigour of it, if he were found out of sanctuary. To say nothing now, what vicinity revenge hath with tyranny, and cruelty; which those are noted to have most, that are most cowardly, as the most noble and learned king of England hath written of late most significantly for so few lines, where occasion was given his majesty, 
Upon the Pater noster. pag. 80.  to touch thereat; and thereunto I refer you.  
And as touching reputation, which was the other cause of combat, and is proper only to man, and which he thinks is greatly hurt, if he be wronged and challenge not, or if he be challenged and answer not, in both which cases, if he be not answerable: he shall be deemed a coward. I little weigh what they say, that are carried away with a vice regnant, Corrupt judgements are no judges of honour. Holofernes his followers thought it a shame to let a fair woman pass them untouched. 
judith.  The virtuous thought not so. Yea: that alone is honour, which the worthiest think to be honour, as I shall show anon. For this present I say no more but this. He that hath revenge in his power, hath also judgement of honour; let the vulgar say what they list. 
Psal. 71.  We pray for kings and magistrates thus. Deus iudiciumregida, et justitiam tuam filio regis, For the king, that he may have judgement in choice of magistrates; for the magistrate, that he may have will to do us right. Da justitiam tuam filio regis. Who is the king's son but the magistrate, begotten of his greatness, and resembling him in power? We pray for him, yet we fly him when we have done, and will be magistrates ourselves. What, must we trouble Lawyers or Lords (say they) for every blow or word of disgrace? it shall never be said of me. This is it shall right me saith he, and claps his hand on his hilt.  
But what reason have they to say it? if the matter be great, the magistrate is ordained for it, to hear and determine. If it be small, why adventure they their life for it, or seek another man's? They scorn to do as babes do, to cry and complain; yet will be worse than babes, to wrong themselves more than they be wronged. For if himself be killed, what extreme injustice hath he done himself for a trifle. If he kill, he must hide his head for it, his friend may not receive him till he be acquitted of it someway. The greatness of his penalty shows the greatness of his crime. And we see not whom we hurt, till we need him whom we hurt, which is our Sovereign. We wrong sovereignty to right ourselves, and yet we seek Sovereignty, to restore us again.  
I proved before, that it was not only a sin to do, but an heresy to justify. Even so in this case between our Sovereign and us, it is not only against nature to do these things, but also against loyalty, to think we may do it. I said it was heresy in respect of religion. Now I say, it is hurt to majesty in point of subjection. As king Alexander might seem to take it, who was no mean Justizer in martial affairs. For coming just to a fray between two of his favourites that were ready to be revenged one of another with sword drawn: he was in great anger, and told them they should both die for it, or he that gave the cause, if they did it again. And this not for killing, or drawing of blood, but only for the disloyalty, and contempt of majesty, in the very attempt. And yet ye must understand me right. I do not say it is treason. For it is not to the person of the Prince, or estate. They intent nothing against Majesty, yet would mince his authority. They love the state, but they would pull from prerogative. They allow them to be their judges, but not in all things; no, not in the greatest, that belongs to their charge. What greater thing in the world than life, and honour? There be divers marks of Sovereignty, which none can have but Sovereigns. And it is a great contempt in the Subject to usurp them. As power of peace and war, power of making laws and abrogating laws, power to make money and alter money, power to make noble and unnoble, and such like. But the greatest of all, is power of life, and death over the subject. Yet this the subject will assume to himself in part, and quarter prerogative with his Sovereign.  
And is it marvel then if Henry the fourth of France have made it treason by parliament, 
Edict. 160.  and have stopped his ears to all offenders in this nature? Or can we find fault with the laws in England, that a Duellor killing, is equally punished with a thief stealing? A thief commonly hath not friends to speak for him. 
1 Pet. 4.  But S. Peter puts them together; Nemo vestrum patiatur ut homicida, aut fur. A thief steals for need, the other kills for honour. If a man be poor, yet he must not steal; if a man be disgraced, yet he must not kill. If either of both transgress, the law makes no difference between them. Their pain is alike, therefore their fault alike.  


Arguit esse reum lex capitalis eum.   

Their fault cannot be small,  
whose pain is capital.   No difference in punishment, therefore no difference in crime. No friend in parliament, hath moved for altering the Law, either for one, or other, though the one be the case of many a good gentleman. Whereupon as to this point, we may boldly affirm, that your Duel, as it is used, and is equally punished with greatest faults, so is it in his own nature an evil thing, and tending to the greatest evil. It is offensive to God, injurious to Sovereignty, disgraceful to the commonweal, and that which remaineth further to be proved, to themselves that be the doers most of all dishonourable.  
It is no small charge, I lay upon Duellors; and it may be I bring a challenge upon mine own head for calling it dishonourable. Yet since I have partly proved it by the baseness of the punishment (unless it be so that they hold themselves Martyrs) I hope they will pardon me, if I prove it further. For I have not so many heads, as I would adventure in making this good. Divines do prove it sinful, and I must prove it dishonourable. And this I suppose were easily proved, if our greatest soldiers, that have been, had written of this matter, that we might produce their authorities. But it shall not need. Their practice is a better testimony than any books. And yet we may gather out of Cornelius Tacitus, who was himself a noble soldier and Historiographer; what he thought of this business, when he calleth private revenge a vice. For, giving a reason, why we are more revengeful for a wrong, then thankful for a benefit; he saith it is, because revenge is a vice, and vitium in questu est (saith he) gratia oneri, Vice makes show of gain, though a man have but his will of one; where thanks is a burden, because a man is bound to it.  
And so Polybius another soldier, and an honourable person, companion with Scipio, in his second book is so far from our minds in this; that he calls it nefas interficere civem, A horrible thing to kill our countryman any way. He commendeth single combat with a public enemy, in his sixth book, and extols the Romans for undertaking such challenges, but not inter cives. 
Paul. Diac. lib. 14.  Yea the practice of Aetius was quite contrary to ours; who although he were the greatest soldier in the west, and a terror unto Attila whom he drove out of Italy with loss of all his men: yet he fled his private enemy, and emulator at home, and thought it either injust, or dishonourable; or both, to fight in that sort. And what do we read of Fabius Maximus a great leader amongst the Romans, when he was bitterly provoked by Minutius, and (as his friends thought) very intolerably; his answer was as I have read, that he thought them more cowards that were moved with flouts, 
Naucl.  and taunts, than they that fly their enemy. Lo here what our grand Master saith, that we ought not to be moved, and much less revenge ourselves with word or blow. Which when such an one as he hath said, being no light headed man, but deep of judgement, we must think his authority to be a reason sufficient.  
But the only man of Mars that hath given his opinion freely though somewhat sparingly in this business; is a very late writer, but one who for wit and education could very well judge of honour. And yet he spares not to set down for perpetual memory; that no man in honour ought accept a private challenge, being a thing so opposite as it is, to God's law, and man's. The law of man (saith he) hath appointed the Hangman to second the conqueror; and the law of God hath appointed the devil to second the conquered so dying in malice. Whereupon he concludes it to be both foolish, and base, to accept of such challenge as is so basely accompanied. All which he hath reasons for, if a man will read him. And it is not without cause that he calls it base, and Ruffin-like, since the nature of cowardice will approve the same.  
For what is cowardice, but an act against reason; done for fear, in matter of courage. As to run away at sight of drawn sword, whereof he had no reason, but his womanish fear. First we have proved already single combat to be an act against reason; and I will prove it again thus. It is an act against the end of every commonweal, which is peace; and therefore unreasonable. It is an act concurring with the inclination of beasts, if they could speak, and therefore unreasonable. We see two dogs when they be parted, they run out of company to fight alone. And Pliny writes of a Lioness that roamed up and down the desert to encounter the Bear, that killed her whelps. But ye will say, I may forbid you as well to eat and drink, and defend yourselves, because it is the inclination of beasts. Not so, ye must make a difference between acts that be natural which must be, and no law is against; and acts of passion, which reason is always against, unless it be in beasts that have no reason. And therefore I prove it thirdly to be an act of passion, ergo unreasonable. That fight and revenging be acts of passion, and stomach, is proved first a contrarijs. For the con-contrary acts of patience, and forbearance, are acts of reason, as I will show anon by examples of the worthiest; ergo, revenge must needs be an act of passion. I prove it again thus. Passion commands revenge; delights in revenge, is eased with revenge, as the old Satire saith. 

Est vindicta bonum vita iucundius ipsa.   

It doth us good revenged to be,  
more than our life, or liberty.   How many have killed themselves out of this passion; and for want of revenge, ergo an act of passion, and unreasonable. And to say no more it is proved sufficiently by all their confessions that come to die for it, or die in their beds, as myself am witness, although their stoutness until then, would not suffer them to see it. But I must prove it it now to be an act of fear also, which was the other part of my definition. And which although it seem hard to prove, because there is no sign of fear that appeareth, yet if we find any fear at all, it will suffice.  
There is a fear, which is of death or maim. But this they have not, no more then unreasonable creatures have, when they assault one another. There is also an other fear which is a fear of shame, and disgrace with the vulgar; and that is a base fear, but yet they have it. They fear not what the best think, but only what the vulgar, and most think. And were it not for this fear, haply they would not fight. 

Quid non ausus erit, populi vitare cachinnos?   

What is it, they dare not do,  
for vulgar fear, that longs thereto?   They fear more every idle breath of a man's mouth, than loss of their life. They fear more what a shoppe-keeper says when they walk the streets by him, than what a Fabius Maximus if he were living. And this is that cowardly fear which God rebuked in jonas, when he sent him to the Ninivites, to foretell their subversion. But he would not go for fear of disgrace by it; regarding more what the common sort thought of him, than what God, or the people of God. Jonas was soon corrected for it; but people now a days will not see. They are ashamed, not to be vulgar, 
Psal. 135.  and fear where there is no fear, as David said, which is the bafest fear that is.  
This the dastardly fear that another Prophet exclaims against, saying: Nolite timere approbrium hominum. 
Esa. 51.  Fear not what the vulgar say, or think of you, that seldom think as they should think. For so the word homines here signifies the common or vulgar sort of men, be they Noble, 
Mar. 18.  or others. So Christ himself used it, Quem me dicunt esse homines? Whom do men say that I am? and presently after but what think you, saith he? as who should say, you that are not of the vulgar, 
Cap. 21. Gal. 1.  what think yôu of me? So in Saint Luke, Eritis odio omnibus hominibus. So Saint Paul. Si hominibus placerem Christi servus non essem. If I should please men, that is to say the common sort of men, I were not Christ's servant. Must no man please God, but Saint Paul? none but Apostles and preachers? none fly the vulgar leaven, but these? Did not Solomon so take it also, when he called the vulgar fools, Stultorum infinitus est numerus? An other calls them incondîtum vulgus, the unseasoned or distempered vulgar. Others ignobile vulgus, the base conceited vulgar, and insipiens vulgus, the doting vulgar, that judge not rightly of honour, or any thing?  
The last part of my definition was [in matter of courage] And matter of courage is, where a man may, and is bound in honour, to use courage. If I see my friend assaulted; here is matter of courage to defend him. If my master, or servant be in danger, and I run away, here is want of courage. If I see a gentlewoman abused, or disgraced in the street, and I can right her with my sword, the defence is honourable; and a thousand things beside, wherein to be fearful, or shrink away, is want of manhood, and courage, and the party to be charged in point of honour. But to say that that is honour or cowardice which the vulgar only think so, that, is (as our author saith) both foolish and base. And the king of France and Princes of the blood call it brutish madness; & have adjudged it no true honour. For who made the vulgar judges of honour, 
Edict. of 1609.  that gentlemen should stand so in fear of their censures. Indeed if they were brought up as gentlemen be, or gentlemen brought up as they should be; their judgement and opinion might justly be feared; and stout men would not dare to do as they do, for fear of true shame. But the ground of honour is horribly mistaken by us, which is not altogether in boldness, or hardiness, but as it is employed in virtue, and true prowess.  
Who is there in the world, can tell us what is honour, if he know not what is virtue? Is it honourable to have one's will in every thing? Honourable to be on fire quickly, or give a scoff readily, and to thrust into every fray? these be graceful things with a great many. But let no man tell me of honour in action, if it be not for some virtue, that makes the motion. I hold Hercules, and Theseus honourable for strength of body, and durable nature, bestowed where it should be. I hold those soldiers honourable in times past, that won the crowns. 
Livi. 5.  One for entering first the enemy's camp, called Corona Castrensis, another for scaling a wall first, another for boarding a ship first, 
Strabo.  and these were of gold; another of oak leaves called Civica, for rescuing a citizen, as Socrates did by his fellow Xenophon; 
Livi. 7. Steph. text.  another of green grass, which was best of all, and was given to Publius Decius, Fabius, and Petreius for some singular exploits, and raising of sieges. All be honourable that do honourable things; discover treasons, save blood from spilling, houses, and towns from burning with danger to themselves. Honourable Scipio, Hannibal, Pompey, Caesar, Alexander; Honourable all men at arms, Grave Senators, and counsellors most honourable of all, next unto Princes, that rule the world in their chair, and give to all men their due. And these may be called heroical honours. But the bounds of honour go further than this. There is honour due to all kind of Excellency. And in the meaner sort it is called praise. Each profession hath honour, or praise with it, even to the meanest that is. And as every one excels in the same faculty, so are they more noble, or more praise worthy than other.  
Now, which of all these do our Duellors excel in, when they make challenge or answer? which of these virtues do they show in it? what innocent defend they by it? what good to the common? what duty to God, or man hath drawn them to it? Ye say honour is a virtue, and that ye fight for your honour. A fair Lady is precious, and ye fight for her love. A satisfied mind is a good thing, and ye fight for obtaining it. And if you get any of these thus, ye say it is honourably gotten. Pardon me I beseech you, It is not honourably gotten. It may be stoutly and hardily gotten, but not honourably. Ye abase honour, when ye apply it thus. Friendship is not friendship, if it be to a traitor. Duty to ones father is no duty, if it be to overthrow a city, or commonweal withal. We may say, there is metal, and courage in a villanousaction, and matter of honour in a rebel dishonourably bestowed, as it was in Clodius, and Catelyn. Will ye wound yourself to show a passion of love? or strike him that is next you to satisfy your mind? be these good means to get honour? and if it were good that we desired, were it honourably gotten, to get it so giddily per fas et nefas? Say your meaning be good, yet the means must be lawful, else the act is dishonourable. And that this means is unlawful, I have proved already both by God's law and man's law, and the light of nature. Choose which ye will stand to, it goes against you. Wine is pleasing, & profitable out of a cup, but good for nothing if you power it on the ground. So courage is indifferent to good and evil; but never honourable with dishonourable circumstances.  
Think not so basely of your courage, as to spend it so vainly. Think not so meanly of your manhood, as to trifle it away in bo-peep, and least beseene. Either ye be bad Orators, that defend such doings no better, or else your cause bad, that hath no other ground for it but vulgar error; nor other authority for it, but a tumultuous plebiscite (as it were) without a Senate. The breeding of gentlemen is such (as I said) or ought to be such, as they should never do amiss for want of knowledge. Howbeit because they be ignorant in these matters, and do not as they should do, but measure honour by hardiness only, and think they have found their helmet, when they find but the feather, and seek no further: hence it is that the common sort do ill also, when they (they see) do ill, that have better breeding, and give no better example.  
But I may not stand too long with ye upon a point, or exceed the bounds of a charge, especially when other things are to be spoken of, that are very considerable about this this subject. For besides the injustice, and dishonour of it, which by your good favours, and patience I have proved, and will appear more plainly hereafter, we will see next, what manner of trial it is; to the end, that if it neither be just in itself, nor the trial reasonable; we may wholly exclude it from the society of men. The trial many times is such as a man would laugh at, if it were not so common, and many times unhappy withal. Men be never soldiers until they fall out: and then every country man is a cavalier. Young lawyers, and scholars be soldiers; the serving-man, tradesman, and artificer is turned soldier on a sudden. They will be honourable in an instant, if they come to see fashions, and upon their honours they will stand. The question between them is for honour, or honesty; who belied other, who wronged other, and was the honester man. And they must try it by that, which they have no skill in for the most part. They fly to another man's trade, and run away from their own. No other trial will serve but at sharp. That which is peculiar to men at arms for God, and their country; they practise forsooth of their own heads, and fall to thrashing one another, chance it as it list. I hard a merry story once, but it was true; and a good judgement upon the case, by a knot of good fellows, such as setued the turn.  
Being once at supper in my brother's house the Duke; news was brought us, of a fray newly passed between two of the meaner sort. The one I knew, his name was Pot, a big fat fellow. The other was an Ale-man, of stature small, but nimble, and desperate. These two fell out in a tavern, and appointed meeting next morning at four a clock, in a close at the towns end. The Ale-man had pawned his dagger, and was driven to go out with his single rapier, that stuck at his bed's head, and came to the place appointed first. Anon after he spied his fellow afar off come tumbling over a mud wall, with a tree on his neck to his thinking; but when he came near, he saw it was a long rail, sharpened on the one side. But besides this, he had two weapons more under his girdle. A long reaching rod, and a whip made of a bedstaff. What (says the Ale-man) dost thou think me an ox, or a dog, or a breeching boy, that thou comest in this sort? and thou (says Pot) dost thou think me a piece of beef, that thou comest with a butchers prick in thy hand? I will lay you anon (sirrah) over yonder block, and you shall feel me as long as these last, and so lettes drive at him with his rail. Back goes the Ale-man, till he could go no further; and then thought best to draw his enemy into the midst of the field again, and to run round about him. Pot fearing he would run him in behind, was driven to turn round with him, till he was almost turne-sicke, and craved parley. But the Ale-man would none of that; but spying his advantage to come within him, Pot struck at him with a mighty blow, and broke his rapier all to pieces, and stuck his rail fast in the ground. And while he was struggling to get it out; the Ale-man steps to him quickly, and twitches his whip from him, and laid at his legs withal. The other leaves his rail, and draws out his rod, lashes him on the face, and almost cut off his nose. The Ale-man finding his buttons covered with blood, takes the butt end of the whip, and the other the great end of the rod, and here began a new battle; until Pot reaching at him to catch hold of him, the Ale-man by chance, hit him right under the ear, and laid him asleep, and fled. Next day in the afternoon, it was both their haps to meet at a blind alehouse in an alley, and a new brabble towards, if company there had not stickled between them. They fell to unripping of old matters, and much ado there was about wronging, and dishonouring. Till some of the standers by told them: ye were both fools (masters) to deal with weapons ye had no skill in. And if we had been of your council (said they) ye should have both of ye met fasting in a morning, with a dozen of pots a piece, well filled, and have tried it out who should stand longest. And with this, they called for half a dozen fresh cans, put both their honours in a pot, and made an end of the quarrel. But to come to my purpose.  
It is an old saying, quam quisque novit artem, in hac se exerceat, 
Cicero.  Let no man go out of his element, or skill. Let merchants deal with merchandise, and scholars with books: every man meddle with his own profession. It sufficeth a man to be honest, though not honourable. What should a shoemaker go try his honesty in the field with a hatter, that challengeth him; but rather challenge him again (as one did) to show him as good a Hat, as he can show a shoe. And this is manhood enough, if men be not mad. What deformity were it in a gowned man, or Alderman, or justice of peace, to become a cutter? Cedant arma togae. So far is it from cowardice to refuse a challenge in that case. And what difference is there between these and other gentlemen of quality? All are bound alike for the peace, though all be not sworn to it, as justices are. If any sort may do it; the king's men may, and squires for the body, Pensioners, guard, and other near his person; who ought to be men of likely valour, or trust, and to fear no man: and yet we have proved, that they may not do it, when the precept is general that none may do it. And Princes take it not well, when persons so near them be so highly carried away, as to transgress so grossly. Princes themselves are sacred, and hate blood, if it be not to save blood, hate effusion, if it be not to spare effusion. And if they were Gods, to know men's thoughts; a bloody mind should never approach our Sanctuary of peace, to stain his house, and bring a curse upon it, where a blessing is due.  
Lastly, if any else be, that may break the peace, a soldier may, and men of honour, whose special profession is to handle arms, and to stead their country that way as occasion serves. And yet there is no warrant for them to do it. And we read how Titus Quintius Crispinus a Roman, would not do it of his own head, though never so much provoked, and challenged most reproachfully by Badius from the contrary army, where it seemed most disgraceful to refuse it. And although he undertook him afterward and ran him into the shoulder above his shield at the first career, and unhorsed him, and made him run away and leave horse, and shield behind him: yet this was upon suit first, and with leave of his General. Which having, he could not refuse combat without cowardice; but not having, to refuse was honourable. And I tell it you for this. That if Crispinus could put up so many reproaches as Livy sets down for order, 
Lib. 25.  and duties sake in the wars; is it not much more to be done in peace? if he regarded not his private honour for the public in wars; shall we begin a civil war (for so is your Duel) and prefer our private before the public in peace? if he for those due respects, would break no peace in wars, shall we be so rude and unrespective towards the public, as to break peace in peace? Is not the like obligation of subjects to superiors in peace, as it is in wars, or not rather so much greater as they have less excuse for it, and more blame if it be broken?  
But to forbear you a little, and to yield a little to ill custom, and bade applied courage; because ye shall not challenge me, I will challenge you first. Let any man afford me a sound reason, why single combat should be a true trial of honour, or honesty; as to say which of them was in the wrong, and which in the right; or which more honourable, or valiant than other; for that is all the question between them; not who hath more courage, but who hath more honour; not who more desperate, but who more wronged. That is it, they go into the field for, to make their sayings good upon each others body. Will conquest fall out always with him that hath right? Do the valianter always go away with the victory? If this were so, it were so newhat. But when it is not so, they that think so, tempt God, and sin in presumption; which I shall prove unto you thus.  
As all our actions while we live are human; so our trials upon difference must be humano more. We must not look to hear God speak, but by deputies and magistrates; we ought not expect miracles, nor be our own judge. Else why do we not fight for our lands and goods, as the law of Lombard's was with short staff and target. Why fight we not with our trespassour, but go to law with him? Before there were Tribunals, I marvel not much. But since there were laws, and lawmakers, and civil, and orderly government; our learned hold it piaculum, a very tempting of God, to waive public justice, and to be our own triers. If one call me villain, thief, traitor, bastard, or perjured; he shall pay dear for it in body, or purse. If he slander me otherwise of sin, or crime; I have remedy in court Christian. We shall not need appeal to fire, water, or sword, as they did in old time, when other justice could not be had. So Tutia fetched water in a sieve from Tyberis. And some have floated above water, tied hand, and foot. The Empress to Henry the second, walked fifteen paces on hot iron, as other have done before her. And such an other like trial there was little more than a dozen years agone. in the East-Indies, in the kingdom of Malabar. Which because it is rare, and may be suiting to my argument anon; let it not be troublesome to ye that I set it down, as I find it written.  
One Jacob, 
Alexis. hist.  and Achar his wife a fair conditioned couple of the town of Mangata after some children had between them fell at a little variance upon suspicion he had, that she was not altogether chaste. And this the good woman took so exceeding ill, measuring the depth of the wrong, by the height of her innocency; that she demanded justice of the heathen king, and would be tried by fire. Forty days she took to prepare herself with prayer, and devotion. When the day of trial was come, she also came. Thither came the king, and all his nobility, besides a number of Heathens, Moors, jews, and Christians not a few. Before whom a hearth of fire being made in the front of the Church; she puts herself upon her knees before the king, and lifting up her eyes to heaven, Lord jesus Christ (said she) our true God, that madest both heaven and earth; thou knowest the truth of my innocency. Make known I beseech thee to all this people here, that Christian wives if they follow thy commandments, commit no adulteries, nor falsify their faiths, which they have given their husbands. Show to all these, that we be not dishonest with any, or think of any thing more, then to accomplish thy law, and to live chastened with our husbands, in hope to have children, and to increase thy faithful. I adore thee my only true God, and I keep thy commandments. Then turning her eyes to the king; Sir said she, you that be our king; we are bound by the law of Christ, to render you obeisance. And here I swear before you, and before all these, by the law of jesus Christ our Saviour, whom I worship; that I have not only not committed adultery, nor wronged my husband; but also have not any thing thought against conjugal chastity which I own him. And with this, she put forth her hands to one that laid green leaves on them as their fashion is, and another took a red hot Iron bar, and laid it on the thin leaves, which she held fast, until it was turned black; and then they took it from her. The king, and as many as would, drew near, to view her hands, which they found untouched, and likewise the leaves unscorcht. And the woman protested, she never felt any heat at all, such as was likely to hurt.  
This ye may think, made a great astonishment amongst infidels, and joy to Christians, when it pleased God to concur with it as he did. Even so again for trial by sword. We have one notable instance amongst others in the Emperor Henry the thirds time; 
Naucl.  who took to wife a fair young Lady, the king of England's daughter. She was accused of incontinency by a servant near the Emperor, a man of monstrous bigness and Giantly stature, As the Germane writer saith. 
Naucl.  And there was no man durst undertake the virtuous Lady's part, so much as to speak on her behalf; until in the end, she challenged the Giant to fight with a boy of hers, which she carried out of England with her. The time, and place was appointed. The only comfort the Giant had in his wounded conscience, was the weakness of his enemy. His victory as he thought was assured. But he was deceived. God was greater than he. For the boy adventured so boldly, and with such a spirit towards him, not afraid of his big looks, and scorns, and heavy blows, (which would bear down an ox) that after a few boots, he thrust him into the thigh, and wounded him so sore, that he could stand no longer. The Emperor at this was much confounded; and would have had her again. But he had more to do for her second good will, than ever he had for her first.  
These and such like reserved trials, we hear, and read of in case of extraordinary need, and Gods particular favour. Which every one may not presume upon as I said. And to expect it of God, is to tempt God; and so is holden by the servants of God, that are of learning and experience; as by the story I told you of the Indian woman, it may appear. For although she escaped the fire marvelously; yet whether it was for her sake, or for conversion of heathens upon that occasion, God only knoweth. And the Archbishop of Goa a very learned man, being then in the same town by chance, about his visitation, would not only not give countenance to such a trial with his own presence at it, but rather misliked her that she would take no other satisfaction when it was offered her; yea also when she came to him afterwards, he told her plainly in the hearing of many; that it was not for her merit that God wrought this wonder; for we be all wretched and sinful creatures said he, as long as we live in this mortality. But it was for poor infidels, and heathens sake, that knew not the good of Christian marriage, nor how pleasing it is to God to hold only to one (which was very grievous to them) both in deed, and thought. By which words ye may see how little he accounted of this trial; as of a trial; although he gave some way to it, because he would not abbreviate the hand of God amongst those blind infidels in an act, which otherwise he might think to be mere presumption, and tempting of God.  
And this tempting of God is a greater sin than we are aware of, and is so called, 
Guicciardin. Comines.  because we tempt him thereby to do a miracle or extraordinary favour upon us. As a jacobin Friar did a little before our age. Who standing in contention with a certain Franciscan in Flarence, challenged him to walk with him through a great fire prepared of purpose in the market place, with the Sacrament in his hand. And this is called tentatio expressa, a gross tempting. And the Magistrates punished him for such attempting. There is an other tempting also which is called Tacita; when a man intends not actually to tempt God, yet what he doth, he hath no reason for, but tempting of God, and mere presumption. As one that is deadly sick, and will take nothing, ask him why? God will help saith he, when he sees good. A man may say to him again, do you look for a miracle? and in this they offend God presumptuously in time of the plague; that go so boldly to visit the sick, as if it were but an ague, and this for no other cause, but to visit, or to show their boldness, and to boast of it afterwards that this they have done, and how little they fear death; or how ready they be for God, more than others are. If they will needs tempt God, let them do it where they hurt none but themselves; and they are ill advised that animate them therein, without all manner of need. A Bishop likewise, or other eminent persons offend herein, that are notably slandered, and will not stir in it, but leave it to God, having good justice, and means for it.  
The like of all lazie-bodies, that will take no pains for their living, saying God will provide for them. Do not all these tempt God? and say with him in the Gospel, Lord, 
Mat. 7.  Lord; but will do nothing for themselves? And this Tacit or silent tempting coming always of sloth, or pride, provokes God much; being oftentimes joined with repining, and banding at authority, as the Jews did against Moses, when Moses answered them again, Quid iurgamini in me, 
Exod. 17.  et tentatis dominum? Why do ye wrangle with me, and tempt your Lord God? So judith to the priests in Bethulia, 
Cap. 8.  Qui estis vos, qui tentatis dominum? Who are you that tempt God, when she saw them limit God to their laws, and subject him to their false fears, as Duellors do? By which ye may see, it is no new sin I speak of. And wicked Achaz was so well instructed, as he acknowledged it a sin, when God bade him ask a miracle, and he should have it. But pretending holiness, he said no, I will not ask. 
Esay 7.  Non petam said he; non tentabo dominum, I will not sin in tempting thee; being holden even then, a grievous sin, and we cannot plead ignorance of it now.  
But to come nearer our purpose; our Duellors' sin this way in the grosser manner. And I appeal to their own conscience, whether I say not true. Briefly thus. They seldom regard the odds, or inequality that is between them, no more than David did against Goliath, or Alexander against Porus, who was two cubits higher than he: and yet the lesser overcame the greater, when it was an hundred to one against him in ordinary reason. David's victory indeed, is attributed to Gods revealed assistance, which gave him boldness in his business. But Alexander's only to his fortune, as I shall show you anon. They care not (I say) for odds in their person, odds in skill, odds of experience. His enemy haply hath been in many frays; or may be as strong as Pompey's man was, who met with his challenger in the field without weapon, and brought him away into the camp with a finger: yet all is one to him. What argues this, but, (I will not say) a miracle, yet an admirable conquest? They presume of setting fortune here against nature, chance against reason. I ask whether this be not true? It may be, some are more wary or fearful. But most commonly it is true. I ask them secondly what makes them so presume? They cannot say their skill, if the other have more, not their strength if the other be stronger, not their courage when the other may have as much. They cannot say their right, for that is the question; neither can they say their fence for their body, for they go not out like men, many of them; but more like savages without defence. Their only fight at this day is with single short sword. The knowledge whereof if it be right, hath advantage of any other. For he hath a whole body to hurt, and but half a body to defend. But being so, that few have true skill of it, it is both dangerous and speeding, and hardly tolerable in a kingdom. I fear me, they will come shortly to the case of bodkins, or the Dutchmans' stab or cut, with either of them a whitle, all unbraced, and untrust, as if they went to a bacside rather, then to a trial of life, and death. How far is this from the ancient doctrine of manners, or manhood, now corrupted wholly, by the upstart humours of a number of desperates; who if it were a fashion to ride out in the rain, and leave their cloaks behind them, no doubt they would follow it.  
Ye thought much even now, that I called it dishonourable to challenge, or answer. But as they use it now; I may swear it is dishonourable. For it is desperate, therefore dishonourable. What more desperate then to be careless of one's life, when it is sought; or to hazard it for want of defence. They cast us their gauntlet when they challenge, and leave it behind them when they come to fight. Ye may learn of Thucydides (who was himself a soldier also) that the right side of a man is to use his weapon with, 
Lib. 5.  the left to defend with. Ours go to it like half men. The great Monarch of the Assyrians, having taken distaste against many of his Princes and Potentates, sent them a challenge thus: That he would defend himself against them all; 
judith. 1.  showing by this, that the chief part of a soldier is defence. Ours challenge also, but he that brings his mother's spindle with him, brings as much defence as they. Ye have been in fencing schools, And the first thing ye learn is your wards and locks. Ours bring nothing to ward withal. If ye have been scholars, what learn ye there, but to defend, more than oppose? He is the best scholar, that defends his conclusions best against all that come.  
Take away defence therefore, and take away manhood. A man may refuse you with honour, if ye bar defence. For the fight is not like a man, but like a beast without defence. And yet verily it is a wonder, to hear our Duelists talk among themselves. By God he killed him bravely say they; I say ruffinly, without defence. He killed him manfully, I say casually without defence. He killed him valiantly, I say fearfully without defence. All night-feares would haunt my soul, if I should kill a man so. For though I had myself no more defence than he; yet my sin would be the greater, the more way I gave chance, to tyrannize without defence. Duel is sinful every way, but without defence, it is a sin against nature. So far is it from honour, one naked man to conquer another, without defence.  
Archidamus the Lacedaemonian Duke gave his men this rule; that when they went to fight, 
Thucid. lib. 2.  they should prepare themselves as if they feared, and fight as men that dared, and how is this preparing, but by defence? 
Iliad. 13.  Homer commends a swordman, by his defence, not by his offence, Bene loricati Achivi, his bright armour, brigantine, or coat of plate. He commends a fight man thus, Galea galeae, clipeus clipeo, Helmet to helmet, or buckler to buckler, not poniard to poniard, or waistcoat to waistcoat, as our carpet knights do. The old Greeks' gave them punishment that went into the field, not without sword or lance, but without buckler or shield. 
Dionis. Hali. lib. 4.  The Romans likewise appointed every one after their quality, what to have for their defence, howsoever their weapons were. The best and ablest had their silver buckler, and headpiece of steel, their curate also, and steel boots. The second had the same, all saving the curate; and instead of a buckler, they had a shield. The third had like the second, but no boots. The fourth or meanest that bare arms had their target, and might not go out without it. They made reckoning of a man's life, and that a man was but a man; his skin is not of a Lion, or of dagger proof. And so should every man think of himself. And if he be a gentleman, his scutcheon of arms that makes show of a shield, doth put him in mind how to go into the field; or at leastwise not like slingers, and carters, that come behind the camp, and can reach to no higher fence, than their fortunes. If our loss be no more then of a dog out of the way, we may fight like dogs. But men, I would have to fight like men, and they are bound by nature to it, as sure as they can for the part defensive, howsoever they be for the offensive, as it is in the wars; and why not? Now what is it then, that makes them so bold, and yet so naked? Surely it must needs be this, that they presume to have God on their side, if it be any thing; and so (to my former saying) they tempt God. Or if it be as they say, their fortune they stand upon, they tempt their Lady fortune, which is very deceitful. And they do not as we do in the wars. We will not hazard ourselves upon a notable disadvantage; and it is no dishonour to refuse battle in that case, unless we cannot mend ourselves, and be driven to it perforce.  
Now lastly; supposing equality, and that there is no odds between them; but that the one is as strong, valiant and able as the other; although the injustice of the trial seem better cloaked, yet it is tempting of God notwithstanding. For they cannot deny the sword to be one of the three trials extraordinary. They may not use trial by fire, nor by water, therefore not by sword without tempting of God. For though a man expect not a wonder in conquering his enemy, as by fire, and water he doth; yet tempteth he God in one of these two ways. One is in presuming of God's favour in a wrong if he have wronged his enemy. The other is in seeking Gods favour inordinately, though he have right on his side. He will challenge God forsooth to right him with an extraordinary trial, which I proved the sword to be, and spoils his cause by it. For so it may be said of him.  
Victrix causa deo placuit, sed victa Catoni.  
Victory due to the cause, no victory, as it is handled.  
As if a man should give me a jewel, and I go pick his lock, or his pocket for it. Would this be well taken? Have I not lost a friend by it? This kind of presumption is towards God as ungodly, as the other to man most unmannerly. And I shall wish you to take heed, and inquire of it further; for it will stand ye much upon.  
And yet to give you this also, and to free you from an audacious presumption; which I can by no means do: yet I may not allow this trial to be a trial indifferent, and reasonable, but false, uncertain, and deceivable, as I prove to ye thus. There is no man can make a trial certain, whose issue is chance. But the issue of combat is chance, therefore the trial unreasonable. That the issue is chance, it appears by the many casualties that combat is subject unto, if his foot slip, or sword break, the sun, wind, or dust, in his eyes, or if his breath fail him, he is gone. Neither is a man always in best practice for his defence. King Porus looked aside a little, hearing his men in tumult behind him, and Alexander took advantage of it, and overthrew him. And to go no further than my former examples; 
livius ib. 7  Valerius took like advantage of a Raven that flittered in the french man's face, and overthrew him by it. And yet these uncertainties our Duellours make no reckoning of, weighing their honour in their humour, at no more in a manner than a throweat cross and pile, or a cast at mum-chance.  
The insufficiency of this trial is also seen, by the little esteem is made of it by the whole body of justice. King, Council, judges, Magistrates, and all the grave heads that are in the world. All that ye have ye hold by their wisdoms, and judgements, the cloak on your back, and your sword in your hand. Yet they hold such conquests of yours as nothing. They will not condemn the conquered for the worse man, or commend the conqueror for the better man, or that he who hath the day, hath always right on his side, as commonly he hath in just wars, and so is noted by Pomponius Laetus. 
In compendio. lib. 28. Livy. 7.  But in single fight it is often contrary. As we may see in Corbis, and Oswaes' case, two principal men of Spain while Scipio lay there; who would have umpered the matter between them for the principality of Ibes. But they were both resolved; no trial but combat, either take all, or lose all. The apparent right was in Oswa who stood upon his spirit, and flourishing youth. The other was both older, and stronger, and stood upon his skill. Much preparation was on both sides, and great concourse of people, and friends. But the stronger obtained the victory, and the younger paid deer for his levity. Like case we find in king Henry the sixts time of England, how William Cartur was traitorously appeached for a traitor by his own servant, and in combat was slain by him in Smithfielde, the servant carrying away the victory, and the Master the honesty, as it was deemed and pitied by all that knew him. And it was not long, that the servant could escape the judgement of God for it, being hanged soon after for another fault.  
Neither will such conquests be so much as an evidence in any court of audience. As for example, one calls me thief, or base-born. I challenge him the field, and am overcome, and he goes away with my sword. After this, I bring my action of slander. He pleads conquest by battle, and shows my sword for a testimony, with other witness beside. Yet all is nothing. I shall have damages against him notwithstanding. But I leave these matters unto ye, to be better considered of; as also the humours of men, from whence this uncivil business proceeds. Green heads commonly without ripeness, courage without knowledge, good metal ill applied, good signs till impolyed; and to put all in a word, the greatest adventure that is, for so small a prize; as appears by the fruits of it, which are two.  
First a cruel repentance, if ever we come to repent us, but especially if death followed. We must remember one day, or at sometime or other, when we set alone, and think of things past, that he was our brother, whom we maliced, or supplanted so. He was partaker of one Christendom with us; Like flesh, one country, the same language with us. Perhaps he was our friend and lover in his heart, howsoever he might be led by human error, and peradventure our kinsman, or ally for any thing we know, or care for in our passion. If ever we come to remember ourselves, we shall rue it most pitifully, and with the bowels of extremest compassion. Alas for pity, that we cannot take warning one by another; yea that ever we should wear a sword, and use it no better. How many be there that perish thus of cold iron in this iron age? how wanton be they with their weapons, after they get a little fence, and are not at quiet, till they have sheathed it in their brother's bosom, or lie breathless, and speechless under the surgeon's hands? They pass a trial indeed; but whereof? Truly, in my opinion of the greatest misery, and most comfortless desolation that may be. Victus perijt, luget victor, As the old Oracle went, neither of them honourable by it, both of them miserable, and who can tell which more? Whether he that is by this time God knows where, or he that survives; and though he be in his right mind, yet cannot make amends, or bemoan it sufficiently.  
The second fruit if we may call it so, is an abominable blindness of heart, which they be grown unto. Let us speak but of one or two of their laws, that they live by, and die by. Our young Solons, and Lycurgusses, what bring they? Or from whence? Not from the Athenians, or Egyptians; not from the Romans, or Lacedæmonians; and much less from good Christians. Their first law is good, and is but for a show; to colour the rest. And that is this, ye must do wrong to no creature living. But they keep it ill. For if they carry a spleen against one; they will give him a justle, or a scorn, or somewhat else that the other will not take, and raise a brawl presently. The second is if ye happen to wrong one, or that the other take it for a wrong, it is base to cry him mercy for it, or ye must do it coldly, or rather stand to it, and justify it, and add wrong to wrong, and word upon word to the defiance. No place left for courtesy, but a courteous scoff. A third is, if one throw dust or salt in your face, or disgrace you in any sort: if ye be not a cow, ye are bound to challenge him.  
A fourth is, that if a man do not answer his challenge, the other may stab him, or pistol him for it, wheresoever he meets him. Less than his life cannot satisfy the disgrace. What a horrible law is this? How inhuman? And yet there be other as ill as these; but they agree not all in a tale. I omit to speak of their satisfactions; as what is due for the lie given, what for a blow with a fist, what with a cudgel? The satisfaction must be greater than the wrong always, else no satisfaction, or rather no satisfaction will serve, unless the party think it so. And it comes to this in the end; that he must be his own judge. For if he think it not satisfaction enough, all his friends must not quiet him. These matters I shall desire you to examine with the law of God, and with the professors of the same. And let no man make a puff at it, if he be a man indeed, and not a very Cannibal.  
There is an eternal law, which to aim at, is all our duties, and to swerver from is frailty; but to make laws against it is plain Apostasy, or as I said before, mere blindness of heart. For what should I call it else, when they forget God so much, forget nature, forget all civility and humanity? A gentleman is so called of gentleness, and sweetness to all. The opposite of rudeness, surlines morosity, and hard to please. And as they be towards man, so are they to Godward; that is to say contemptuous and base. If the king command a man that he fight not, or if a man be bound with his friend to the good behaviour, and be challenged; he will refuse for fear of forfeiture, or offending man, and they hold it no cowardice. But when the king of kings forbiddeth, 
Heb. 1. Psal. 90.11.  and his angels are our sureties, as it is written, God hath given them charge of us; we neither listen to God, nor Angel, but turn our backs to them most rudely, and therefore they turn their backs to us, and we speed ill favouredly with it in the end.  
Neither doth it help the justice of our cause, to fly our country for trial, as many do. Coelum, non mores mutat qui trans mare currit. It saves them a penalty, but helps no fault, being both of one allegiance, which if it were several, the sin were only to God. As it happened in the time of King Edward the third, between a gentleman of Cyprus, and the bastard of France, both hired soldiers to the king of Armenia. One of these had charged the other for taking money of the turkish enemy. And being to try it by combat before some competent judge, that were indifferent to them both: They both agreed to go over in to England, 
Edward 3.  and to be judged by the king there. They would not be their own judges as our Duellors are; nor steal revenge as we do; nor wrong their Sovereigns, as they had done, if they had been of one allegiance. But the matter being great between them, they prepared themselves for all trials of chivalry, on horseback, and on foot, and submitted themselves to the honourable censure of the worthiest Prince in those days, who judged it for the Frenchman, after a long combat.  
Ye talk of daring, and what a trouble it is to a man of spirit, to be dared to his face in any thing. And why should it trouble you, so he cannot out dare you in true honour. Neither is he the best man that dareth most; Fortis non est qui nihil timet (saith Aristotle) Most valour goes not by least fearing. Yea a man must fear as well as dare, if he be a true soldier or professor of arms. Vulneribus didicit miles habere metum. And yet is not this to be rightly called fear in him, but a necessary care of himself, as far as may stand with honour. The truth is, he is most valiant, that can, and will, and will what ere he can, due circumstances considered. If your enemy will dare you to the devil, must ye dare to go with him? And I have proved it to be little better. If your enemy can climb a tree like a squirrel, or swim like a dog, or have other activities, that you have not; as to ride a wild bull, or close with a Bear, or be so desperate as to run upon his sword's point, or leap into a well; will ye answer his challenge in any of these for your life, though he dare you, and dare you again? And yet I cannot deny it to be a great deal of courage (if a man were not drunk) to dare so.  
I knew two gentlemen fell out on an evening, and they must try it presently by starlight, with either of them a knife in their hand, and had almost killed one another if they had not been found in the fact, and parted. Did any man commend them for it, or not rather laugh at them? I heard of Sir John Wallop an hardy knight of England, who when he was old, was challenged into the field by his enemy. And it was no dishonour to refuse it, and our Duellors will not deny it, but will blame the challenger rather. But the old knight did challenge him again to be bound in a chair against him; as he should be also, with a case of Pistols in their hands, and so to try it. But the other refused (our Duellors will say) with honour enough. For, may not, and can not, are both in a rank of things that are not to be done. Why should a man dare then to do that he may not without defence, more than that he cannot without knowledge, or ableness to perform.  
It is pitiful, that men dare so, and have God against them. I know well, we dare every day against God, when soever we sin wilfully. We presume upon long life, and therefore we dare. But to dare him so near death, and in an act, that tends to death, I hold it most desperate, or like unto one, that picked a pocket as he was going to the gallows. But whether goes he? he goes where he may die, though man good enough; and his other sinners may deserve it, though this were none. What more? He goes where none that fears God will go with him to give him countenance. No spiritual man will associate him, to give comfort at his death, or dare bid him God speed in so speedy a way to hell. He shall have many no doubt of his own spirit, that will accompany him, and animate him in naughtiness; but no man of God to pray for him, or God to take his prayer. Let his cause be what it will be, right, or wrong. If it be right, he spoils it with ill handling; if it be wrong he sinneth doubly. It is base to wrong any, but more base to stand in it.  
Ye ask me then, what remedy for gentlemen to right themselves, if they be wronged, or dishonoured. I answer, my purpose is not to give remedy to remediless humours, but to show unto ye, that what ye think is remedy, is no remedy, and what ye think is honour, is no more but courage. For, ye must distinguish of it thus. There is honour without courage, and that is harmless; there is courage without justice, and that is honourlesse, or honour's ape; and there is honour and courage together; and that is true valiantness, as I have said sufficiently before, and well becomes an honourable person. They that have breeding, will choose the best of these I doubt not. And as for righting; verily in the law of arms, and chivalry, we acknowledge no such laws as your Duellors talk of, but only one, which is to do no creature wrong. An other law we have like to this, never to be our own judge. For this we hold to be childish and base. Neither is it for a man's honour, to be so ill neighboured, or ill friended, that he will not be judged by any, but by himself. Let these two laws be well observed, and men will quickly do right, or be righted. For it is not unmanly for a man to ask pardon, where he hath wronged, so it be not for fear; neither is it honourable for a man on the other side, to ask unreasonable satisfaction, or to ask satisfaction where there needs none; as if a blow were but proffered only, and not given, as Astyochus did by Hermocrates.  
What is fit satisfaction for the lie given, or what for other disgraces; what is a just repulse of a wrong, and when the burden of honour is truly cast upon the injurer, your Marshals can tell best, who are best acquainted with this new disease. New maladies have new medicines. If a man have the lie put upon him, and he strike him for it, I think he should be satisfied. If he take a blow, and give another, what would he have more? for this was Moses law 
Levit. 24.  Oculus pro oculo, dens pro dente, An eye for an eye, a tooth for a tooth. And must we have two for one? No we may not, for what says the law more? Qualem inflixerit maculam, 
Vers. 20.  talem sustinere cogetur, What contumely he hath given, the like he shall be made to undergo. A disgrace for a disgrace, a blow for a blow, or an humble submission for an unworthy aspersion. And yet with us, these be no satisfactions. We will have more than the law, we will have his blood rather. And where the law says cogetur; whereby the magistrate is appointed to right us; we say no, we will right ourselves. What a presumption is this, to teach God almighty what is just? Again, there is much quarreling about women. If two fall out about a corruptible mistress, they must go fight for her love, and know not why. Were it not much more honour, to do as Leicester and Liques did of late? The more they loved the self same mistress, the more they loved one an other. Yea when Liques had obtained her, and married her one morning, and was taken by Leicester the same day in a skirmish near Saint Omers; and she sent unto him to send him to her again out of hand; he obeyed her voice, as the voice of his general, and sent him away the same night with honour. And why should not all men do the like? but snarl at one another, like a couple of mongrels, more for lust, then for love. In a word.  
If ye will have of me any remedy, I must speak out of God's law, or no law. And then I say if one have done me a despite, that the law will not remedy; yet by God's law, I may not be his executioner. Neither need I salute him, or speak to him, or move cap to him, until he have satisfied me. I may deny him all points of friendship, though no point of charity. He hath lost my good opinion of him, which otherwise I owed him. He hath lost my love, and good will, and the love of all that love me. Is not this revenge enough think ye? but ye will laugh at me now, all you that know not the worth of love, and good will. I protest unto you, if I had wronged one in word or deed, it would be to me the greatest pain that could be. For both must I make him amends, and also I am bound to seek him, if I have any Christian blood in me. If thy Brother have aught against thee, that is to say, be wronged or think him wronged by thee; 
Mat. 5.  go thou and be reconciled to him. Lo here. I must go seek him where he is. But I leave this to preachers, who tell us, and agree in this; that the wrong doer is bound to seek the wronged for his love, and that with all the good terms he possibly can. And we have many examples of Princes that have done the like.  
A Prince will not wilfully lose a subjects good will for a piece of his kingdom. As we read of Alcibiades the Athenian Duke, who gave to Hypponicus a Senator a blow on the ear, in public place. But being come to himself, he grieved at it much, and went to seek him next day at his house, offered himself to be whipped, beginning to strip; and so insinuated into his favour again, with due satisfaction, that Hypponicus soon after made him his son in law. King Agrippa likewise hearing of one that thought ill of him for somewhat, was not quiet in mind, until he had spoken with him, and won him, made him sit down by him, argued sweetly with him, reconciled himself to him, and so sent him away. Who will hold these men for base, or not truly honourable, and not true esteemers of love or good will? Only thus much I will add. He that is so rude or unsociable, as to wrong one, and neither seeks reconcilement, nor cares what any man thinks of him, like Mounsieur Orguiles, whom we heard maintain, that he had rather have his neighbour to be his enemy, than his friend; such as these (saith Morus) have more need of pity then revenge, they are half way poor souls in hell already.  
Neither do I weigh the common objection, that our enemy will set light by us, and double upon us injuries in these malevolus times, if he fear no more but loss of our love. Whereunto I answer, I will provide myself against wrong as well as I can. And yet if he fears me not, it shall be to me no dishonour, or harm; no more than if a Bear do not fear me, I will see to it, that he shall not bite me. But must I challenge or answer the field to every one, that baits me, or scorns me? So I might set up a bullring, and play the Bull myself, when I have done. In a word, I dare approve no saving of honour by fight, nor any remedy that way. And as touching challenge, I can allow of none at all; but to summon him to the court of honour (if they be gentlemen, and bear arms) to answer it at their peril. And the sentence there may be as great satisfaction to the wronged, and disgrace to the injurer, as that of the Censor of Rome was. Which Roman gentlemen stood in more awe of, then of fire or sword. And this is all I can allow you, and no more. My reason is this. For either the wrong is proved, or not. If proved, than no combat, as all agree, because there is means for civil satisfaction. If not proved, as to say the lie was given you, but you cannot prove it, conquest cannot prove it, except it speak true always, which no man will say.  
Howbeit for a perfect remedy, or preventing rather of the cause, I would wish that we were so wise as to withstand beginnings, and to temper our heat, that there might be no brawls at all. For it is a rule in arms, that he who forbears ill words, can never have the lie given him justly, nor the burden put upon him to challenge. Detraction behind ones back, and contumely to ones face, are principal bellows to these combustions. Or to speak more inwardly to the business, I find most commonly men's thoughts in Duel before their bodies are. Envy and pride in them fill their heads with comparisons. I as good as he, I more wise or worthy, I more valiant or hardy, or of better desert than he. And this is mental Duel which breaks out into act upon small occasion.  
They say comparisons are odious, and yet they use them as though they were gracious, and that is childish. For it began with childhood, and should end at manhood. Quanto maior es, tanto te geras submissius, the greater we be, the more kind, and humble we ought to be. And we that be Christians have great helps for it, over that heathens have. And yet have heathens also given us excellent examples herein; and it is good for us to learn of them, if we will not learn of Christ. We may learn of Fabius Maximus, as I said before, not to regard what men say of us, so we deserve it not. We may learn of noble Antigonus, who overhearing some of his followers, talking their pleasure of him in the next room, came out suddenly upon them with a staff in his hand, and bad them get them further out of his hearing, and then talk what they list. Why took he not revenge? We may learn of Philip of Macedon, who contrariwise, would not part with Nicanor, although he were told that he was ill tongued, and spoke not well of him." I must look to myself (said he) that I have no fault, and he will have little to talk of. So said Tiberius before he fell to tyranny. When complaint was made of certain libels cast out against him; We must have patience (said he) tongue and thoughts are free; I will do nothing hereafter, but what I can account for; and if they shall hate me notwithstanding, I can but hate them again. And like to these was our Lewis the twelfth, who was so qualified in this kind; that he renewed the old custom in plays, and interludes, to point at men's faults. with quips, and jests before their faces (which is death in Venice) and would not himself be spared, no more than others.  
And to this effect said Photion that noble Duke of Athens that he had no enemy; nor could hate any man. For if a man should wrong him undeservedly, he was his own enemy, and not his: and if deservedly, it was a warning to him to amend. I would to God we had the mind to learn of him; for he was full of wisdom, and manly fortitude. He held it base to keep revenge in his breast to any private person. In so much as going to die, one ask him what he would have to his son;" nothing (said he) but that he revenge not my death. And of the same mind was Vespasian the Emperor, as great a soldier as he was, he would take no revenge of private enmity. For being thrust out rudely (before he was Emperor) out of Nero's presence by an usher of the chamber, with these words; get you out, get you out with a vengeance, what do you here: This usher coming afterward to him when he was Emperor, to crave pardon of him to late; he gave him no more but his own words again, saying:" get you out with a vengeance, what do you here. This is base to our young masters now a days, that must bear no coals in no sort.  
And what do we read of Lycurgus long before these? when Alcandar had maliciously put out his eye with a cudgel; did he think of revenge? no contrary; he took him into his service, and he became his lovingest servant that ever he had. A strange thing, that heathens should practise the Gospel before they heard of the Gospel. Yea more strange, that God requires no more of us, but what our light of nature shows us the way to. And most strange of all, that we who know the Gospel, set so light by it, will not hear of turning to ' their cheek, or of rendering good for evil; 
Mat. 5.  neither do jurge them to it now; and yet these Pagans led them to it, by their own practice, and example.  
Was it want of courage think ye, that Caesar would put up a wrong in an instant? As when he gave his voice for Memmius to be Consul, that called him all to nought but a little before, was pleased with Catullus in an instant; and bad him to supper, who had defamed him with libels? and who could take more temperately those biting speeches of Cecinna than he? Where was courage? where was revenge? Where letters of defiance? What revenge took our Constantine, when one was brought before him, that had stabbed his picture on the face? This was all he did. He called for a looking-glass, and finding there that his face was never the worse for it, he let him go without punishment.  
These virtues in those great Princes were admirable. And although I do not commend them in all these things, in regard they were public persons, and might lie open to contempt by it, if they should use it: yet are they of great example to private persons, not to think so loftily of themselves as they do, when such as these, and so far above them in honour and worth, could forget their greatness, and policy, for love of these virtues, and in hatred of revenge. It is commended in Cotys king of Thracia, that finding himself so weak as he was in resisting anger, he shunned occasions of it, though it were but to a servant. For which cause he broke once a number of costly drinking-glasses, that were given him for a present, saying: he had rather be without them all, then be angry with his man for breaking but of one. Yet much more commendable it had been, if he had spared the glasses, and watched his anger better: which we that be Christians may more easily do than he, by help of grace, which he had not.  
Gentlemen should bestow some time, their idle time I mean, upon morality and laudable histories, that they may see and make choice of the worthiest actions, and imitate Princes if they will. Princess I say, that were not greater (some of them) in their outward conquest over others, then in their inward over themselves. How much better should they employ there time thus, then upon love books, and poems of idle subject, which have multiplied, and swarmed of late towards the end of the world, to light a candle before the devil, and to intoxicate men's heads with matter of impertinent fiction, and such as Duellors are most beholding unto.  
For to speak a word or two of the original of this vice before I leave it; how it sprung, and grew to this greatness: I take it, it comes two manner of ways. One, by some likeness it hath to virtue; And Similitudo matter erroris saith Galen, All the world is deceived with Similes. Pride is like magnanimity, and therefore men be proud; envy like justice, and therefore men be spiteful; gluttony like natural appetite, and therefore men be ravenous; letting of money like land letting, and therefore men be Usurers. So Duel upon private quarrel, like combat upon our country's command, and therefore they will fight, when their humours command. The other is a multitude of idle books and ingenious devices as I said, but much naughtiness in them, to invegle the mind of man, and wry our understanding quite on t'oue side. Such as Amades, and Ariosto, Valentine and Orson, and the knight of the Sun; that are full of these challenges, and bravadoes, and such like unchristian stuff, which some of the Authors have repent them of since, and so have professed at their dying day. These and such like, men tear, and wear with continual reading. Every one will have one of these, or a play book in his hand, and what men delight in, they are made like unto.  
An other way how Duel comes in, may be our bad inclinations always to make good ill, and to corrupt any thing that is good. Religion slides easily into superstition, devotion to scrupulosity, honour to insolency, civil manhood into rank, and wild manhood; as herbs, apples, and flowers do, which for want of culture, and kindly mould, degenerate in time to weeds, and wildings. The true soil where manhood grows, is lawful hostility, or just defence; for want of which, and through idleness together in peaceable countries, it grows rank, and rammish, and works upon itself for lack of the true subject. Like fire, that cares not what it burn so it burn somewhat; or like a ston'd-horse, that for want of a Marrow falls a kicking, and leaping his fellows, to vent his courage.  
But to speak more historically; the very beginning of Duellum, and the laws thereof came first out of the North if we believe Bodinus. 
In Meth.  The Scythians first, a strange people, and of large dominions, who lived all upon sword, as old histories make mention, and do yet at this day. Iniurias illatas rare iure, sed ferro vindicant, saith Munster, They seldom right themselves but by sword. And this was so agreeable with their horrid nature; that Anacharsis, their own country Philosopher, was killed by them for attempting to alter it. After these, the old Germans, as Tacitus reporteth, The magistrate (saith he) determines nothing either in public, or private, but by sword. And as this people not knowing God, or his laws, overran the South with many notable incursions; and hath left a print of it yet in old Imperial laws: so carried they their fashions with them, and infected all countries with their incivilities, which would never be quite abolished to this very day. And this is such an injustice (saith my author) as I know not a greater; that a weak body cannot be righted of any wrong, but he must fight for it, though it be with his far over match.  
Italians and Spaniards, the one divided into Guelphs and Gibelines, the other in Moors and Natifes, were also much to blame in this business. And from them it came over the mountains to us, and we as forward therein as our masters. All bordering countries likewise, that lived most upon sword, rapine, and spoil, as professed outlaws, infected the inlandes in time with their disorders, and outlaw sovereignty, as the nature of man is, prone to learn that which is evil. But what is the end of it? See whether it were of God or no. Those nations have almost left it now, and are fallen to worse, to privy murders with long needle's, and poisoning, where they bear grudge; and so shall we also if we be let alone, and a man shall not know who hurt him. All arts and sciences are come at this day to the top. Nothing almost can be added. Even so it is with the malice of man, as by this very sin is easily seen. One thing it is to sin of frailty as I said, or upon sudden occasions, where man's reason hath no time to discourse: but to say we do well, and are bound to do it, where we do ill and will do it again, is to forget God quite, and to resign our interest we have in our Christendom, or shall have in his kingdom.  
There be laws against this vice in some places. But what should there need laws to men of honour and arms, who ought to be their own laws, and other men's. Laws be needful to those of ruder fashion. But be not you like those feeble women the Miletian virgins, 
Plut. apoph  who never left killing their own selves, until an act past against them to be carried out naked when they were dead, for every man to look on. Ye have but one life, and ye have it not for yourselves alone, but for many: your friends, and kinsfolk, and country have part in ye, saith Cicero. Nay, what saith Saint Augustine? Quid tam non tuum, quam tu? What so little thyself as thyself? As who should say, others have more in thee then thyself. How unworthy is it then to adventure thyself so ungloriously? Your neighbours, and countrymen have part in ye, why should ye rob them of ye? Your kindred have interest in ye, why do ye deprive them? Your Sovereign may need you, why deny you him his due, and hazard the best blood ye have in obscurity? Will other men rise of your blood think ye, when ye are gone? how basely do ye think of your selves in your highest conceits.  
A man is borne for many, yet we will jeopard ourselves to do good to no body. One man may kill many in his country's defence; yet we will be lavish of our life in hope to kill but one, and him as good a member (it may be) as ourself. And what do we in this, but work against ourselves? If a man possess any thing, there is none but will have as much as he can for it before he depart with it. Only our life shall we set so little by, as to adventure for little, or nothing? Do we not know the worth of our life, and what a jewel it is? how never to be had again, when once gone? how soon forgotten? how little care of us when we be dead, and put into a hole, to revenge our quarrel? every one is not Patroclus, who had an Achilles to revenge him. It hath been comfort to many, that their death should cost many deaths. Epaminondas died joyfully of his deadly wound, when he heard that he had won the field. We neither winnne field, nor shield by it, but content ourselves with a little fearful honour, which is no honour. We little remember, that our life is all our stock; and what merchant will adventure all at once, to make but own of own. If I kill, I kill but one, if I be killed also, I lose two. What is gotten by this? if a man had many lives, he might hardly spend one idly. Having but one life then, and to spend it so prodigally, I would think he had too much of one.  
And I cannot but here (while I think of it) digress a little from the matter, although not much. And great Princes I hope will not blame me, if I remember them of an intolerable abuse of their Jrascible part, if they take not heed. And their fault therein is the greater, and commoner, the more absolute their authority is, where no man is to control them in the power that is given them by God's assignment. They are appointed by God, or rather put in trust to be his vindices ad iram, Revengers for God to execute his wrath upon those that be evil, 
Rom. 13.  and wrong doers, ijs qui mali sunt. I speak not of the power they have over their subjects, which is meant directly in this place; but of that they have over their equals in other countries, if they or theirs be wronged & may right themselves by the sword if cause require. It is seldom seen, that right is on both sides. And therefore how many battles we read of, or hear of, so many wrongs most commonly, yea so many massacres, or wilful murders on t'one side, which is horrible to think, that it should be amongst Christians.  
Some go to it with as slender pretences as may be. Some with justice enough, but unjustly. Our Charles the eight will never be forgotten, who ran through Italy like a fury for recovery of Sicily and Naples; set towns and people on fire where he came; rob Churches and profaned them, ravished women, and cut their throats when they had done. In a town of Tuscan where they had nothing to do, but to pass it through; yet spared they not man, or woman, poor innocent people, till they had slain seven hundred of them. How far was this from Charles the wise his grandfather, a most peaceable and powerful Prince. Charles of Burgundy likewise had the name of a worthy Prince; yet not to be excused for the malice he bore to them of Leodes, where he made his soldiers carry firebrands in t'one hand, and their swords in other throughout his army. He left not a stone of their walls one upon an other, to wreak his will on them for a very small cause. And against the Switchers soon after, what outrage committed he, where he hung five hundred captives at once without all redemption, broke promise foully with those of Granson, demanded of his subjects a sixth of their goods, but they would not yield him a penny, unless he would come home, and leave those idle, (they might have said) pernicious wars. And to go no further than our next neighbours, what a devilish fight was that between the Switchers, and some of the Cantons, because they would not leave their league with Austria? They grew to that rancour, and mortal feud, that when they had vanquished them in a sore battle, they were not thus content, but made stools, and tabels of their dead bodies to sit on, and feast upon. And that which is more, they opened their breasts, and drunk their blood to one an other, and pulled out their hearts, to tear them with their teeth. Would ye think this were in Christendom? I give but a few examples in stead of many, and am ashamed to tell, what hath happened nearer our time.  
The like not read of scare in all the Bible, that faithful were against faithful. Yet with us daily, Christians against Christians, and suffer their faith to sleep the whilst. There want not prelate's, and clergymen, to forward Princes in such business, and to sow pillows to every bed. There want not histories great plenty to extol their doings, 
Ezech. 19  and magnify their names, for executing bravely upon their own tribe, 
Pom. Let.  and alliance without all respect of nature, and pity. He that kills most is extolled most, saith one. A Christian is but a dog to him, if he be angry. And if a Prince be of quiet disposition, and peaceable, and thinks he hath enough of his own to govern in peace, and fear of God, as Numa and Solomon did; they count them scarce worth writing of, because there be no battles nor conquests in his time. Where contrary, they should think him wise, for sparing, and not spending so much treasure, and blood upon that which they cannot keep no longer, than they be stronger, and have no more title to most commonly, then is sealed with an edge on their next neighbour's flesh. It is a wonder to see, what pains and eloquence our writers bestow in this kind, to set forth the glory they think, but indeed the sin and shame of their countries, if it were not apparently just, and honourable, which they took in hand.  
We read in the book of judges, how ten tribes fought against one, which was Benjamin. The quarrel was just, the revenge approved of God, for a horrible crime committed in Benjamin, and the whole tribe overthrown by them, except a few. Yet when they had done their worst; doluerunt, they were pitifully grieved at it, and penitentiam egerunt, 
judg. 21.  their sorrow was expressed in deeds, and care to make them amends, as it their appears. They vaunted not of their valour, nor made brags of the blood they spilled, but lamented with tears, and with wring of hands for that was past, and could not now be recalled. How many Princes have we known in Christendom, that have shown much sorrow for twenty or forty thousand slain on a day of the same tribe themselves were of, and bought with the same blood? Yea, have they not made triumphs and bonfires for it, when they came home, and Te deum sung in Churches for them, when they had more need of a miserere?  
There have been thrice five hundred years since the coming of Christ, and the fourth is begun. In the first five hundredth began our greatest Monarchies. In the second they grew Christian, and were of great example. In the third they began to neglect religion, and to prefer their own ends, pulling from each others greatness, and abiding no equals, which caused much war. What will become of this fourth five hundredth, we know not yet. But if the rest hold out like the first of it now last passed, we must look for a general revolt from God and all goodness, 
2. Thes. 2.  our sins deserving it, and our contempt of his laws. I pray God my fear prove greater than the events. I have read an old prophecy, that Europe shall burn, and it hath proved true in this last age. The rather through difference of opinions, and those both great, and many in matter of Religion. By reason whereof so many have been slain in a few days space, as would have driven the Turk out of Hungary, Walachia, Transiluania, and out of all Germany home to Constantinople; and in a few years so many of our Christian brethren have been slain by our fire, and sword, as would have wholly uncrowned him, and cast him out of all commerce with us, beyond the Caspian sea, from whence he came.  
Ispeake not of older times than this last hundredth, wherein it bade been better (if it were Gods will) that Flanders and netherlands had been under water, Milan swallowed of the earth, Naples flat with the ground; then so many lives had been lost about them, and so many souls either damned, or endangered by them: the turk looking on the while, and laughing at us; giving praise to his Mahomet, and crying, blessed be our confusion. The day is now come I think, which Christ foretold us, that malice shall abound, and charity wax cold. 
Mat. 24.  It could not else be, that we should be so ready to strike our brother or neighbour as we do upon so slight occasions most commonly, or not so great as Benjamins was, and die unrepentant for it. It is no new saying; but begotten of long observation in most countries, and ages, especially, in former times, and for this only sin. 

Ad cereris generum sine caede, et sanguine pauci.  
Descendunt Reges, aut sicca morte tyranni.   

Few kings or tyrants die fair death,  
But some misfortune stops their breath.   I list not illustrate it with examples, what untimely deaths have followed Princes for it. Or if not death, yet cruel rending of their kingdoms, or translating them out of their line to some worthier than themselves, and sometimes to their enemy. 
Psal. 67.  Dissipa gentes quae bella volunt saith king David, Let them be confounded that seek wars. And the Emperor Martianus who had been a warrior all his days; yet this was his saying: let no man have war, that may live in peace. Pax una triumphis innumeris potior, saith an other.  
And yet I would not have them lose what they be truly Lords of, nor put up encroachments, and unworthy disgraces, for which they may honourably right themselves, if some things concur. For first the cause must be just, and so resolved by reverend men. Secondly (if long out of possession) that it cost not more than it is worth. And thirdly, how like they be to hold it, when they have gotten what they would. 
lib. 1. c. 16.  Our Philip de Comines, who was in the bosoms of many great Princes adds this also; that where there are many Princes of equal degree, and cannot agree: if they will be sure to do well, they must always have some superior amongst them, to advise them, and overrule them in matter of quarrel, and anger between them. What a thing is it, that two Princes both of them wise, should lead their armies into the field, 
Lib. 3. cap. 3  and invade one another so boldly, and bloodily as they did, and knew no cause why, but the cunning of contrivers, and make-bates, as the same author affirmeth of his own knowledge. Who showeth also what deceits they have used, and striven who should deceive the other most in their accords, with more than Punic frauds, murders, and parricides, when they gave scope to their humours, and would be ruled by none? The danger whereof is so great to them, and to their posterity, 
cap. 28.  that he exhorts them in his first book more like a Divine, than a Statist; to think of hell often, and of the torments there. I say no more; but humbly wish them to read it, out of the book itself, and mark it well, as the Emperor Charles the fift I think did, for the book was never out of his hands. And yet it is no more than Ecclesiasticus advises them, Memento novissimorum, 
cap. 18.  & desine inimicari, Remember the last things, and thou wilt have no mind to make war.  
Lastly, touching this point of wars, if we believe Divines; a demand of recompense must precede for saving of bloodshed, before the enterprise be undertaken. Against Turks and heathens, we need not be so scrupulous, so touch be kept with them, and the law of arms. If a king go personally against infidels, it is impious to trouble him at home, before he return; though some have practised it, and defeated good enterprises by it, to the sorrow of Christendom, and the enemies great advantage. I cannot but wish, and pray, that God would touch the hearts of Princes with zeal of propagating the name of Christ; and if they love wars, to show their valorous minds where they may show it, and not broil in civil discord, and advance broken titles, and vengeance at home, while the bounds of Christendom in Europe grow narrower, and narrower. But what hope of making Christians, if they have no scruple of kill Christians? I will return to my matter again. As Princes have care of many lives, that they be not lost, or cast away: so ought Subjects not to be prodigal (as I said) of their own life, or their neighbours, though never so enemy to them.  
God hath made us little less than Angels, 
Psal. 8.  as we read in the psalm, and the world hath been in travel with us, five or six thousand years, to bring us forth for God's service, and our countries. And what service have I done, to kill or hurt my brother, or but to adventure myself for a shadow? What honour gotten by maiming him, or drawing blood of him, which every beast can do better than I? Yea, what if he deserved ill of me? What if he deserved death by wronging me, and that he fall into the hands of justice for it? The sentence which grave judges pronounce not without heaviness, shall I go, and prevent with triumph? That which Gods people behold not without tears, shall I execute with vaunting? and therefore as my case is, the Psalm is changed in me; and I have made myself so far off from Angelical, that I am little better than a devil, if I die in that estate. O how great we be in our own sights, and yet how pleased to adventure ourselves abjectly, and to deserve ignominiously in the last act we do?  
This one life which God bestowed on us at length before the world were quite ended; is it not a dreadful thing we should waste so idly, spend so carelessly, and end so desperately? That which our worthy friends had care to leave unspotted to us, untouched with infamy, unstained with wrong doing, memorable some of them for their country's good, honourable for their deserts, and dying in God's favour; shall we alone be foolish, and unworthy, and as we led our life unprofitably, so shall we leave it I know not how? that which King, Council, and commonalties have care of to preserve with peace, shall we frustrate with a giddy fancy, and finish with a fatal blow? That which God and nature have conspired to produce with consent of stars, firmament, and all heavenly influences, shall we rashly bring to nothing with a bloody thrust? That which our noble ancestors have helped to bring to light for their honour, and to enrol in their descent, shall we unrole with some base attainder, or patch up with a purchased pardon, which none will think honourable, but ourselves?  
What will the world, or they that know us, say of us? Surely no better than thus; we have good riddance of him, or I would we had; he was but a quarreler. What will Pagans say, if they can speak for laughing, to see us quell one an other as we do? What will our Sovereign say? He would never have been our friend, that was not his own, farewell be. What would his ancestors call him, if they knew him, but an abortive, unprofitable, 
Esay. 14.19  one that came for nought, and is gone for nought? But above all we should fear the judgements of God, what he will say of us. Sorrow, and unluckiness go with him, 
Psal. 13.  because he would not know the way of peace. Nay, what will himself say if he die out of God's peace? Woe is me, woe is me, I sought honour, I find horror. Tell me now I beseech you, what worth is your enemy of? how dangerous a person? what monstrous Gorgon or infectious Dragon do ye make him, that ye dare undergo all these censures for him, from God and his worthy creatures; and having but one life, will boldly jeopard it in such a quarrel?   

The Conclusion.  
But I will make an end. I have laid before ye after my fashion, what myself do know to be true, and many by corruption of times are ignorant of. I say little of the hurt our country hath by such enormities. The State will look to that, and provide laws according. King Arthur forbade it his knights particularly; 
Bocas. lib. 8.  and so did Alfonsus to his knights of the band, that they might not hurt, or touch one another for any thing: which they would never have forbidden, if it had been honourable. Whatsoever Laws be, it is the minds of men, that I would have reform in this matter of heat, that laws may be obeyed for conscience, not for fear. To which purpose I have shown ye, how comely and necessary it is for all sorts to carry passion even. How pleasing to God, agreeable with nature, and grateful to all that are well minded. As also I have illustrated with examples of some great persons, that have been bitten behind their backs, or to their faces, and have not taken it for disgracious, as we do. And in this point of hot blood, I have insisted the more, because it is the ground. And if this be well tempered in the beginning, much evil is knocked on the head by it, and we shall never go so far, as to be our own revengers, or to err upon cold blood, which yet was the principal subject of my this days charge. I have told ye of the commonness of the fault, and how sinful, and not only sinful, but heretical. Inquire of it. I have proved to ye how opposite it is to the law of God, of nature, of nations, which S. Paul calleth also the justice, 
Rom. 1.32.  or law of God; and how never practised by the worthies of the world, scarce read of in histories, not acknowledged by ancient Poets, or commended any where by moral men, yea accounted plain cowardliness by Fabius Maximus, and much less to be entertained & used by Christians: whom I have proved to be little better than felo de se, if they die in it, and are justly forbidden all Christian burial; and the spectators, and abetters, are subject to censure for it. Inquire of these points further, if they be not so. I have told you my opinion likewise touching honour, and praise of men, and wherein it consisteth truly, and how not to be sought for out of the compass of a man's own profession. Every man professeth not arms, & as little wit is in accepting, as manhood in tendering of such a challenge, unless they be swordmen. Which if they be, yet to these also I deny the liberty of single combat upon private quarrel; being neither honourable, what God forbiddeth, nor loyal to Prince or country, what man's law disavoweth, nor the trial indifferent, that stands upon chance, without necessity force us. Besides that, I proved it to be a tempting of God directly, which how great a sin it is, I have also said, and I hope ye will not forget. Although for your better assurance, I would wish ye to take your better information when ye may, of those that be learned in divine laws, and human. Who I suppose will avouch as much as I have said; and will further bear me witness, that I tie not your honour to syllables, or your haughty spirits to words of art; but have done what I can out of my my love, to free ye from Satan's tyranny in this kind; against whom and his works, and all his powerful deceits, I profess myself a perpetual enemy. For I have lastly told ye what blindness of heart this sin hath brought us unto, and what bad laws come of it, such as it is a shame should come from Christians. The original of it also, and the strength it is grown unto, hath been opened unto ye. And finally what a benefit it is of God, to give us a lives time in the world, and all the means to conserve it in health, peace, and good estate; and yet how unthankful we be in departing with it, or but hazarding it for a trifle. What God made not without great wisdom, and counsel, we will unmake for a toy or a caprich of our own. We will go steal a glory by ourselves, and the first step we make, is into the bottomless pit of hell. There is nothing remaining, but that ill custom prevail not with you, which bears a mighty stroke in the actions of men. Ill custom I say, that goes handsomely decked in flowers of honour, the more likely to deceive; and maketh such impression in men's minds, that it will not away with beating. Their arguments are, I will not, I cannot, I will be hanged first, the devil take me first both body and soul. For if they speak soberly, they bring us nothing at all, that is greatly worth answering. 
7. Mac.  Some will urge me with Eleazar in the Macchabees, who lost his life to avoid disgrace, or scandal to his name. I answer, it is one thing to suffer death by Martyrdom, an other thing to be an actor in it, by fight, which may not be. For howsoever the disgrace be, it is either past, or to come. If past, it is revenge to fight, and revenge is absolutely unlawful in a subject. If to come, we fight for nothing. For that which is to come is not yet; unless it were upon assault, as I said before. Secondly if they allege the book of Kings, where Joab entertained the challenge of Abner, twelve to twelve, and fought it out. I answer, they were of several allegiance, and in case of just war. David had then no more but juda under him; the rest followed Jsboseth the son of Saul, whom Abner then served: and I often have told you the difference between just war and private combat. And if ye think this a distinction of my own, without warrant, because it is somewhat new to ye: 
2. Reg. 1.  read the third of Kings, where king David calleth it the blood of war in peace, to revenge yourselves by sword; and gave judgement accordingly upon Joab that he should die for it. Thou shalt not suffer him (saith he to Solomon) to die in peace; because he hath spilled the blood of war, or blood (that may not be spilled but in war) in time of peace. And what is it the Duellor spills, or would spill, but his fellows blood? When? in time of peace. Some there be haply, that think it to be sin, to fight thus, because all that be godly think it. Yet their error is, that they think it excusable. And that out of Saint Paul's own words, 
1. Cor. 10.  not understanding the scripture, where he saith: Let no temptation take hold of ye, but human: that is to say, a man's temptation, a temptation belonging to a man, and not to a beast; a temptation of dishonour, which beasts are not capable of, & therefore may seem to be excepted or winked at here by this word human. I answer, howsoever it may lessen the fault of the wronged, more than of him that wrongeth for point of offence; yet nothing it makes for their purpose. For I never heard that place understood of such gross and vulgar temptations; but rather as Saint Augustine expounds it, of such as the godlier sort commit by mental detracting, 
Esa. 14.  or suspicion sometimes without cause, and such like. Called human, because it is not diabolical, as Lucifers was of pride or malice; human because it is not of beasts (as ye say) from lust or from revenge; human, because it touches at human infirmity, and puts us in mind that we are but men, 
Rom. 6.  the best of us. Humanum dico propter infirmitatem, saith Saint Paul in an other place. I call it human saith he, because of our infirmity, by the which the best that are, fall seven times a day, and cannot therefore be meant by Duel, which commonly comes of pride, anger, 
Prou. 24.  or base vulgar fear; and is never severed from contempt of laws. And it is ridiculous to say as some say, that if their manhood were known once in a combat or two, they would do so no more. Like the woman, that tried her chastity so long, till she wounded it. But where do they live (trow ye) that think so? No man's house on fire near them, to show their courage in? No occasions of manhood near hand in defence of some innocent that is in danger of robbing or beating? Nothing near them to make their valour and spirit known, but they must go into the field to make it less known of all true esteemers? They vouch the authority of Francis the first, for satisfaction of the lie given. But that makes nothing for private Duel; which both that Prince was much against, and in his own case refused, if we believe Surius. Yea, none more against it, than our Henry the fourth, a Magnanimous Prince, who now liveth. As by his rigorous edicts against this enormity which I touched before, it may appear. What else our Duellors can say for themselves, I know not. Marshal Byron was to be commended for his valour and fortune otherwise, but not for his three to three combat with Mounsieur Cerancy, where his side slew the other side, and was driven to live basely for it, till his father got his pardon, but God never gave him a quiet mind after. He sought to witches and sorcerers, and in the end aspiring to be Duke of Burgundy, a base Burgundian struck of his head. Neither are the two combats of late between Don Philippin, & Crequi in any sort to be followed. For although they were of contrary allegiance, noble personages & stout warriors both of them; the one bastard brother to the Duke of Savoy, the other a Baron of France: yea though the Duke himself out of passion enforced his brother to it the second time, where they fought desperately in their shirts, and Philippin was run through and stuck to the ground: yet the Duke perceived quickly that he had done amiss, and sent after him with speed, to bring him back again, when it was too late. Neither durst any man there bury him in Christian burial, as great a man as he was. What further authority they can hammer out of divilesh custom, is all they have. Good customs are laudable; but Malus mos abolendus est. Custom may not make sin lawful, or make it less, but rather greater saith Ramundus. Less seen I grant, and therefore more dangerous, as we see by many examples. How comes any vice to reign as it doth, and to dance unseen, but by daily ill custom? Hath not usury gotten up to such an height of ill custom, that many cannot see the injustice of it; yea maintain it to be lawful? and that is heresy. How common are dreadful oaths by ill custom; so as the swearer never thinks of it, but rather swears that he swore not. So of drunkenness, so of ribaldry and ribald plays, where the people laugh not so fast, but the devil outlaughs them. What should I speak of dicing, tabling, and carding at this day in such excess, either for long sitting at it, or greatness of the gain; night and day, nights and days spent in it, forgetting health, nature, justice; lose their time, gain loss and ruin their estates. Why so? Want they wit? Not, so. They do as others do. Gallants teach it them, and they teach others. Custom makes it familiar, and all passeth clear with us under colour of company keeping, and nothing else to do, and I do but as I will be done to. And therefore you, that be soldiers, or men of spirit, no marvel, if ye be deceived also in your kind. Every man is taken and tripped in his own humour. Ye know what belongs to fight, but not always when ye may do it, and when not. Remember still the saying of the Athenians, Nullum inhonestum utile. Themistocles told Aristides a way how to conquer the Lacedæmonians, and to be revenged on them. Aristides related it to the Senate out of the pulpit. But because it was not honourable, they would none of it. So say I. Is there sin in it? then not honourable. Is there no way to quit ourselves, but to strike God almighty? Remember in your assaults of anger, what Philip of Macedon said to Demochares the Athenian Orator, when he told the king, it would please the Athenians well if he would go hang himself. Seneca saith, the king was not moved with it, nor touched him for it, as he might; but willed him go ask his masters that sent him, which was more honourable, to give those words, or to take them? An answer most worthy the father of Alexander. But let us end where we began. My dear lovers and friends, let us never be so hot, as to forget to be Christians. And let us be also Christianlike. And whatsoever fault we have, as who hath not; yet let us hate no man, no, not our enemy; but pity him, and inwardly love him for his love, and Pities sake, who gave his heart's blood for his mortal enemies. His love brought him from heaven to earth; and your love must bring you from earth to heaven. Our learned say, and I believe it well, There is no virtue such as this, to endear us to God; nor any thing the devil bestirs him more in, then to break in sunder the links, that chain us together. Let us be wise in this, or in nothing. Say, we be suddenly moved to break amity or peace: Yet let it not be much, or if much; 
Eph. 4.  yet Sol non occidat super iracundiam vestram, Let not the sun go down in your wrath. It will not ill become a red scarf, and a plume of feathers, to hear the trumpet of God speak. Let not the sun go down in your anger saith Saint Paul. As who should say, when ye lie down, lay down. What must ye lay down? Lay down your weapon, lay down all malice and hatred. More than that. Lay down anger, and all thoughts of revenge. So far be it from ye, to think of challenge, or answer in that kind. Vanquish yourselves, overcome yourselves, show yourselves Gods men, and conquer yourselves. If ye were hot in the day, be cool at night. If ye were hasty when time was, ye have respite to think on it, double not your folly with a new days sin. The sun is down, ye must think no more of it. Have ye vowed revenge? Have ye ten times vowed it? The sun is down, ye are bound to break your vow. Ask your learned, if it be not so? Every time you go to pray they will tell you, ye must lay aside quarrels. Forget and forgive if ye will be heard of God. Especially, at two times, and then it is sacrilege they say, or sin against the holy Ghost, to keep a quarrel in your breast. The one is when ye go to receive the Sacrament. The other in any likeli-hood of death; be it by service, or sickness, as ye may learn also by the heathen aforesaid Photion. Let Duellors look to this at their peril, that go to die, or may die, and carry so bloody a mind with them in stead of a winding sheet. Let us not be harder hearted than Pagans in the new Orb, where the Lords, or Naires would stab their servants daily upon their least miscarriage towards their Masters. 
Mat 9  They leave it now, rather than lose the Church-rites. Even so must we do by rancour and revenge. We may not carry such baggage to Church with us. If ye be wronged, I deny ye not to right yourselves by law, or other means lawful; and if laws relieve you not, I wish they might. But this I must tell you. Ye may not look to have all that is wrong to be righted here in this world, or not so suddenly as your heat, and hastiness many times expects. If all things were right here, there were no matter of patience in this life. 
2. Cor. 6.  Saint Paul was content with good fame, and bad. The testimony of a good conscience was to him sufficient. And ye are no better than Scipio, and Coriolanus, that died in banishment by malice of their enemies. Some are kept from lands, some from goods, or good name, and shall not be righted till Doomse-day. And yet if a man have patience; the case is very rare, but he may be righted here. But it may be ye are in haste, ye cannot stay the Magistrate's leisure, nor your friends. And what will ye do if ye be sore hurt? must ye be whole in haste, or not at all? will ye give time to your Surgeon for your curing, and none to the Magistrate for your satisfying? Be not to earnest, and hot in your parley. Be not furious as some be, nor give evil words. A lavish tongue was never grafted on a noble heart. I have noted, that the worthier the persons be, the sooner they be at one. And Caesar, when he perceived his mortal enemy calvus but a little inclining to peace, he prevented him straight, and wrote unto him first. But I make an end. Set God before ye I beseech ye. Let it not be nobis utile, that is turpe deo. And ye may know the foulness of your fault always by your unwillingness to be advised in it by any reverend man. I have been long; but it may be for your profit, if ye escape a scourge by me. Haply ye will one day say with King David, 
Psal. 34.  Congregata sunt super me flagella, et ignorabam. When ye shall see your fault, and seek to amend it; God will draw the vail from before your eyes, and show you the whips, that were ready for ye, if ye had continued in this error. But ye have time now to consider of it. Once again remember S. Paul, Sol non occidat. Is the Sun down? Cry truce to anger, truce to revenge. Free your souls from passion, and unquietness. True honour be your ground. Wear no colours but of God, and your Prince, and rely upon them boldly. So shall ye be as truly honourable, as ye be duly obsequious. jacta super dominum curam tuam, Cast your care upon God, and your country; 
Psal. 54.  and they will protect your honour, and defend your fame, and will not suffer ye to go to your graves with the least disgrace.  
FINIS.    


TO THE RIGHT HONOURABLE SIR FRANCIS BACON KNIGHT, BARON OF VERULAM, LORD HIGH Chancellor of England.  
SIR, you are the highest justicer in this land, or next the highest. And therefore this piece of my labour if it be worth so much, I think fit to dedicate to your honour. In this garden of English justice you are a principal gardener, where every subject should be a weeder; to pull up that by the root, which makes you endless work. This root of Avarice is not so great but the compass of a heart contains it. The biggest man hath no bigger plat to weed in: and yet your Lordsh. finds to your pains, that it is not done, and perhaps never less done. You can do no more but cut it down as it grows hurtful: yet up it comes again like Hydra's heads. If I can weed it in myself, which I cannot well say; and can show an other how, which I dare say: let no man despise an admonishing brother, that speaks in God's name, and his countries, & under your Lordship's correction. My project I doubt not will be well pleasing, if it want not well handling. So, wishing you all the blessings of the Patriarch joseph, I humbly take leave of Your Lordship.  
All your good Lordships to command W. Wisemart.   

THE SECOND CHARGE BY THE CIVILIAN AGAINST AVARICE.  
THe noble Philosopher, and Statesman Plutarch hath such a saying: 
De ira cohib.  that lust, self-love, and cupidity do provoke much anger in us, and breed in our bosoms a nest of Bees. As much to say: they put sour in our sweet, gall in our pleasure, a sting in our honey; and our best contentments worldly are subject to a fret. And to prove his words true as touching lust; what gall it is mixed withal, we need not seek so far as the destruction of Troy for the rape of Helena, and the wars that were made for love of her. We have examples enough at home, of those that have lost their lives, and limbs for women. And for the other part which is Covetousness, or Cupidity; and what matter it gives for anger, and unquietness; we may well perceive it, both by courts of justice, that are full of quarreling for thine, and mine; and also by them that have more than they can spend; yet rest not so content, but still will be adding more water to the sea.  
Of anger or the part Irascible (right worthy friends, and gentlemen of great hope) it pleased my good Lord to speak very nobly yesterday; and there is nothing to be added, though all be too little that can be said, if the concupiscible also be not well qualified, and made to know itself. Of this therefore it comes to my course to speak to day, though very unable for it: and where the last days charge was to quench the fire of anger with cool water; now shall it be my endeavour to pull away wood from it also, and all combustible matter if I can, that there may be nothing to kindle it.  
And it will no doubt be worth my labour; since there is nothing hurts us more than anger, nothing stirs up anger sooner, then evil guided Concupiscence, whereof I shall now entreat. And yet of lust and luxury, which is t'one half of it, I will not speak, those being such known sins, and having so little excuse for them, that their apparent deformity doth show itself sufficiently, without my labour, and your trouble at this time. And they that are entangled with this vice, if they would refrain it as well, as they know it well to be sin; they would not (sure) be far from the kingdom of heaven. My charge shall be to you, the other part called Covetousness, a desire of other men's; in latin alieni appetentia. And not of all that neither, as of usury, theft, or unjust bargains, by chevance, practice, cosmage, or deceit, such as laws do punish and take note of. All these are likewise so manifest to a man's own conscience, that he needs no other tutor, than himself to instruct him, nor yet an heavier judge than himself, to condemn him.  
My purpose only is to speak of one thing, and that is the desire we have of too much, which is called superfluum; the unstinted desire (I say) of more by much, then is enough, or competent to our estate. And for this, as there is no law against it, nor can well be, but ones own will; so the will is commonly in infinitum, if there be means to feed it. It is true, there is no law against this, and therefore we must be our own law; the evil of it being as dangerous to our soul, as it is unmarked: and yet we run on with it as moules do under the earth, until we be catched in a gin, and lie sweeting in our molten metal for it in hell, ere we be aware. God requires it therefore, that we should be our own law, and that we be careful herein. The nature of common good requires it. Charity, and brotherly love in that we be even Christian, doth also require it, and challenge it at our hands. For otherwise how come public weals to allow of private possessions; how doth God restrain his hand from the common good, to the good of a few; if he put not a trust in those few, as in his faithful stewards, to dispense his bounty, and divide it again when they have it; and to dispose it to his fellows, as cause, or need requireth.  
God's is the earth, and the fullness thereof. 
Psal. 23. Psal. 113.  And when God made us, he gave it us to live of. Terram dedit filijs hominum. He gave it not at the first to one, more than to another, but to the sons of men indifferently. And as he gave them the earth, so he gave them the fullness withal, that every one might have full enough, and no more. And the earth is a large field, and was always able to feed them all that lived on it, and more. And so commonweals began with equality, and equal distribution of outward fortunes, and none to have more than other. No, Sem, Cham, and japhet, had all between them, and their posterity after them. The Israelites had there partage in the land of promise per funiculum distributionis, part & partlike, as it is written in the Psalms. 
Psal. 77.  And that which they had thus, the law was so careful to preserve equality, that they could not mortgage, or sell the same, but it must revert again to them in the year of jubilee. Even so amongst gentiles a while. And when this equality was broken, they laboured still to restore it, and reduce it if it might be, as by the practice of all estates throughout the world, and the consent of lawmakers accordingly, it may appear. Such as Bocharis, Lycurgus, Draco, Solon, Romulus, all tending to this, to cut of superfluum in many, and to help poverty in the most, who have bodies as well as the best, and must have maintenance as well as the rich, and are the Mayor part of the commonwealth, yea the principal strength of the same.  
For the taking away of extorsion, oppression, and misery in the multitude, and that all sorts might live in comfort, and their Common weal happy, and prosperous; they laboured in the beginning to bring it to equality, thinking nothing so fit for their purpose, as that. And Lycurgus herein went further than the rest, or else had better fortune. For in what estate he left the Lacedæmonians, in that they continued five hundred years after, no nation stronger, or more invincible than they. But when gold and silver came in again, which he had utterly banished; they lost both valour, and greatness together (as is noted by good authors) and they were no better than other men. When they fell to gathering, and heaping once, equality was gone, and the strength of the Commonalty was dissolved with anguish and care. For like as the stream of a river goes quietly away without noise, and seeks the level without murmur, if it have no shelves to trouble it underneath, nor narrowness of the banks to stop the course of it: even so it is with the stream of a commonwealth. The channel are the commons, or vulgar sort, who are easily moved, and run not even towards their happiness, if the banks on both sides, which are laws, and magistrates, stand not firm to them, and have not care to keep them in their ancient bounds, with paring and sewing them, as they ought, where golden sands lie clottering in heaps to gull them up.  
Equality I must say had been good amongst us, if it were possible to hold. But it is indeed so like to heaven, that earth cannot hold it long. It hath such affinity with Angelical perfection, that it will not well relish with human corruption. And therefore in vain they sought to establish it in any worldly Estate. Saint Austin began a course of equality or community with some of his companions, before he was a perfect Christian; but it held not long; his design was dissolved. Even so those Lawmakers, they began well, but it would not continue. The sequel of subsequent ages tells us, that they consumed themselves the most part of those great wise men, with unprofitable labour. If minds be contrary, how can possessions be agreeable? If affections be opposite, how can effects conspire in equal terms? And yet I hold well with their ground, and most certain it is, equality there must be one way or other, else no commonwealth can stand. And this equality I seek for, which heathens could not, and we must find, that are Christians, or no people in the world.  
A thing which our great master of conscience Saint Paul exhorted, and directed the Corinthians unto, 
2. Cor. 8.  for disposing their abilities to them that were in need, ut sit equalitas, that there may be equality saith he; as upon occasion I shall tell you anon, when I shall speak of Superfluum. For there is a rule of conscience, which among the virtuous is instead of a law, and in lieu of equality, and that is this; to cut away Superfluum in all men. Keep your lands, keep your possessions to ye, be they never so great, or more than others have; yet put your Superfluum out of your hands, and others are even with ye, that have less. Put not away what ye need, but what ye need not. Do but employ it well what ye may nôt hold, and all will be well. This way and no other, will soon make equality; even that which our Lawmakers have sought for, and could not attain.  
The Spartans' would have all men bring in there money, 
Plut. in. Lycurgus.  and to divide it amongst many. But when rich men liked not that, they banished money quite; gold and silver made no payment, but lumps of iron in lieu of them, five pound of ours in their new coin, was a horse load. And as long as this held, there was equality; but when silver came in again, equality went out, and could tarry no longer. The Romans to avoid inequality, and extraordinary greatness in some, over other some, which they saw was by encroaching, and buying up all, that others would sell; 
Livy lib. 6.  whereby some grew mighty, and the greater part in misery; they made this law: that none should have more than five hundred acres at once. For so much was thought enough for the best man in Rome to spend in his house by the year. The law was good, but it held not. And Licinius Stolo, that made it, broke it, 
lib. 7.  and was in praemunire for having a thousand. Their leges agrariae also were without number, but their covetousness broke them. By Caesar's law a will was not good, where nothing was given in common; but this being forced, and involuntary, it came to little purpose, and the Emperor Antoninus was driven to abolish it, and left it altogether to men's good wills.  
Other countries have other laws to fetch it away again, what others draw to them, and hold so fast when they have. And those be, to rate men's possessions for contribution to the poor, and other public charge, as they did also in Rome. Yet this doth but little good neither in most places. Rich men favour one another, and conceal there estates; and so hardly comes any thing from them, and with so evil a will, that it can have no blessing, and the poor especially have little certainty of it, but choose rather to try their fortunes abroad with begging, then like to attend an uncertain courtesy at home. Many laws might be reckoned in this kind, but none like the law of conscience, for true working, and benefit, both to ones self, and others; and to conscience it must be left, when all is done. Which law, because it cannot be done before it be known, and is most necessary to be always in use, and fresh in your memory: I will open it briefly unto you, and exhort you to it in the end; craving nothing of ye for it in lieu of my pains, but your best attention.  
Divines whom we ought to follow in matter of conscience; 
Heb. 13.  ipsi enim pervigilant, these be they that watch for us, and have charge of our souls, that we may do the best, or not the worst for want of instruction: they tell us many things, that are good for us to know, if we desire to be secure of our safety, and profitable to others. They tell us first, we must love God above all things, and this not with love composed of words, but inward, real, and effectual; breaking out per actum elicitum, as they call it, as fire out of a flint, by express word, or thought, that may testify to ourselves, our inward feeling. Some such touch had the Heathen Philosopher, 
Plato.  when he cried out in a sweet admiration, saying: O ens entium, miserere mei, Have mercy upon me o thou maker of all things: as if he had seen what he in in the Canticles saw, 
Cant 4.  when he said; All fair art thou my love, there is no spot in thee. Or what King David saw in jonathas (which is by interpretation the gift of God) saying he was to be loved more than the love of women. 
2. Reg. 1. Psal. 6.  Or when he said in the Psalms; How admirable is thy name over all the earth. And in another place: 
2. King. 1. Psal. 6. Psal. 83.  How enticing thy tabernacles o my Lord: my heart doth leap to think on thee, and my flesh exults after my living God. When shall I come and appear before the face of my God: and such like. Some writers hold, that if a child do die after use of reason, and never raised to Godward any act of love, either little, or much; he can hardly be saved. And their breeders are infinitely to blame that put them not to it. For if nothing on our part do bring us to heaven, but love; and this love be so cold in a capable creature, as neither inward eye of faith can move him, nor hourly benfites can stir him to love the bestower; how can such a spirit aspire, where God hath to do?  
They tell us next, we must love ourselves next. And in ourself, are two things contained. Our soul, and our body. Our soul we must esteem above all creatures, and we must not adventure the loss of it for ten thousand souls. Our third love is to our neighbour, both body, and soul. His soul I must love more than my life, and goods; especially if I be his pastor, and have charge of him ex officio. His life also I mây prefer before my own out of friendship, if not out of charity. And so I may lose my life for him, or in defence of the weak, or innocentbody; and this is a great virtue, but we are not always bound to it. We are taught also, how to love our parents, wife, children, & which more, if it come to be shown, as in case of necessity. There is a love and care due to servants, that they want no necessaries; to masters that we fail them not in our duty, or charge. They teach us to love our benefactors, both bodily, and ghostly, and which more, if it may not be done to both alike. There is a justice, and truth in all these. And it is not idle to ask, and know our duty in all. And yet these latter may seem more curious than necessary; but I come to greater matters, and more near to our purpose.  
They show us further our duty to the public, and where the common good is to be preferred before private; and where it is in our wills to prefer it or not. And first for life, or member, if twenty do assault me, I may kill them all rather than be killed; so it be in my just defence, and not against lawful authority. And yet if a man be so charitable, they do not deny, but he may suffer himself to be killed, rather than kill. Whereof there have been noble examples, though very few now adays. And therefore men are deceived when they think they are bound to kill rather than be killed. It is not so. They may kill, but they are not bound. Yea on the other side, if he that assaults me unjustly be a public person, as the king, or any of his children, I am bound to fly him, as David did Saul: but if he follow me so hard, that I must kill or be killed, I am bound to lose my life, and it lies not in my choice. So of a Bishop, or some other eminent person, whom the Commonwealth cannot spare; if one boat will not hold both, I am bound to slip out, and leave myself too God. Yea they say further, if my life be sought maliciously in France, and I fly into England for succour, and there is like to be wars for me, or breach of amity between Princes: although the State may not deliver me, for that were tradere justum sanguinem; Yet am I bound to render myself to my enemies before public peace should be broken, or any league in hazard for me. Such high regard must be had of public good, that a man's private is almost nothing to it. And with this we see how the law of nature concurs. Hesione was commended for it, and so was Curtius the Roman, for exposing themselves as they did; the one to be devoured of a monster, the other to be swallowed horse and man in a gashfull pit, to stop the plague, that was then in their city.  
They teach us also touching goods and possessions, or any worldly thing we have, that tendeth to our being, or well being: they be all either necessary, or superfluous. Necessaries a man must not be negligent to provide. And it is lawful for us to love them so far forth, as we cannot be without them, no more then without life. And these be in two sorts, as either necessaries of life, meat, drink, warm clothes, which every one must have, the poorest that is: or necessaries of estate that a man was borne to, or liveth in. As if he be a yeoman, thus; if a knight or gentleman, thus; if a nobleman, thus; and the greater the persons are, the more things are necessary, which to the inferior are excess. And all these may have a proportion in our loves. We love a new hat, or garment, a fair gown, or handsome cloak, or what else is fitting for us to wear within our compass or degree. We love a good dish, and competent fare, proportionable to our means. And every man knows what is meetest for him, and best suiting to his ability; even that the civilest sort of his rank doth use with decency, and without ostentation, or encroaching upon the ranks above him, either man or woman.  
A great many delight, yea too too many in excess, but such love is nought, and vicious. The back and belly have made much work for Parliaments, and Lawyers every where. It is an old fault, and the Lacedæmonians so prevailed against it, both for diet and wearing, that the subject never exceeded. The Romans likewise had many laws about expenses, called sumptuarie; as the Aemilian, and Licinian laws, what they should spend ordinarily, and what upon Calends, and festival days. By the laws fannia, and didia, principal men were bound to spend but so much in meat, and no more, besides herbs, bread and wine, and that must be of the same country, and no other. To say nothing of the Anthian law, that was made to bar suppers, and other laws without number, which their outrage of excess gave occasion of. There was also the law Oppia for apparel, especially for women, that they might not exceed in their settings out, nor be carried in litters. Yet Solon would not have them walk the streets in solemnity out of coach; neither might they wear in their ear above scutcheon grains. Their excess ye must think was very strange, and monstrous, that caused these laws; and there be many statutes in our days for wearing, but no reformation. I know no good comes of them, save that they argue us of our pride, and give us a learning what is fit for every one to wear. Other fruit I see none of them, neither force I much.  
I speak only of the law, that should be within us, the law of a good conscience, which is, to know, and do, and to cut off excess in all. It shows a weakness of mind, and poorness of soul, that powers itself out so excessively upon outward vanities, and pride. For what is it else? they would be great, and are not great, they would be Queens, and are not Queens, yet leave no ornament for Queens, but their crown. I have heard of a lawyer's wife that came before Queen Elizabeth in a gown, and kirtle of needle work, set forth with strawberries, and peascods of silk, and silver. The Queen asked her name; which when she had told her, the Queen laughed at her, and called her Queen N. I could give our women some good examples to imitate, which were better than any laws, if they will. But as the cause of this excess is mere pride, and want of wit, so the nature of it is, to be worse for counsel. Themselves would be all others patterns, and will have no paragon. Yet men should be wiser than they, though women's doteries do befool them too much. For what women delight in, they must wear, and draw women the rather to underpeere them. But my purpose is not to amend all in others, that have faults enough of my own to amend. Yet these things fall within compass of my charge; and where they be, they must be amended betimes, or dearly paid for.  
All other excesses, in hunting, hawking, feasting, and disports, which have little restraint by law, belong all to my argument; being as they are, Cupidities inordinate, and undoing loves, if they draw us to much cost, and to waste our estates. The estate of all men is much regarded and favoured by learned Juristes, and Casuistes, and therefore they hold two or three things hereabouts, that would be noted. As first for alms, that although the precept be general to all, for giving to the poor, and needy, that are near them: Yet this is only understood, if a man have superfluum. It must be out of some abundance, or overplus that a man hath. He must not weaken his estate with giving; which if he do, it is sin. For if Charity bids, yet justice forbids, unless the need be extraordinary: for virtues are not contrary, but complying with each other, if they be true virtues, and used with discretion. My means is a thousand crowns a year, and I have wife, children and family to maintain in frugal sort, not denying the reversion of my table to the poor. This is my daily charge, and of this I may not diminish to give larger alms. And if I go further, it is indiscretion, and vicious. Excess in virtue is a vice, how much more in evil things.  
They hold further, if I be in debt, or decay by loss, or want of some providence, which all have not alike: I am bound to pay Creditors assoon as I can without notable impairing of my estate, and not before: and the Creditor is bound to stay for it, if there be no fraud in me or intention to deceive, nor need in the money lender; or if there be, yet they distinguish of need. For there is gravis necessitas, and there is extrema. Extreme necessity is of life; as if both of us want meat and clothing, and I own him as much, as will buy but one of us our dinner, so as one of us is like to starve; I am not bound to pay it him. For the use of all things is common in extremities, and the law of nature they say must be preferred before the law of nations, and property. Yet this case is rare, but in a siege, or famine.  
The case of great necessity (which is the other sort of need) hath been somewhat more common; as if creditor, and debtor be both in like danger of arrest, the one if he be not paid his own, the other if he pay. Some say the debtor must pay, some say he is not bound. I think he is bound if he borrow it gratis, but this case also is not often, that both necessities alike should meet so just. The common case is, that the debtor cannot pay suddenly, and the creditor is able to stay for it. This is the case that troubles many, and wrings the multitude, as we see by daily examples. All our learned hold, the creditor must forbear, and have patience, patientiam habe, omnia reddam tibi, 
Mat. 18.  as he in the Gospel said to one that he owed money unto, and because the creditor would not forbear, he was delivered to the tormentors. The Saviour of the world might seem to call it a choking sin, Tenuit, & suffocavit eum, he arrested his fellow, and choked him up in a jail, and yet as his case was, he had some reason to do as he did, and to importune his own debtor for his own, being himself in need, and in danger to his Lord for a great deal more. But my purpose is not to prove my conclusions, which would ask much time; but only to inform you of these verities; which your learned can instruct you in, better than I, if you be as ready to follow them in all your doubts, as they will be ready to guide you, and govern you.  
Take heed I beseech you, and you cannot be too heedy of this kind of sin. For though laws were made for the rich, and this was not always law, that all extremity should be used but hanging, for recovery of debts; no cessio in bonis will serve but a man's flesh, and not a groat sometimes left him to relieve himself and a poor family with; which yet the law of nature and nations provideth for, that a man's person should not want out of his own goods; and yet notwithstanding, I would not blame laws or policy for it, if there were store of conscience in lender's, or if lender's would lend gratis, as they have done: Yet remember still the old saying, that extreme right is extreme wrong. Is there no mean amongst Christians? For want of a Tyrant to reign over us, shall we tyrannize one over another, or have power in our hands to do it, if we list? If our goods be in our hands, let us use them as we may; if they be out of our hands, let us get them in as we need; but let it be done with all Christian lenity; let no choking or throttling be heard of amongst us which will hurt our poor brother, and do us no good.  
The Lord I spoke of in the Gospel, 
Math. 18.  had to do with a debtor, that was able to pay, yet gave him day to make money: we deal with many that be nôt able, and have nothing to help them with but their labour and pains, and yet we cast them in prison, take all their means from them, and allow them nothing to keep them. I said before, if there fault were fraud, fraus nemini patrocinabitur: there is no reason to spare them, that live by practice and cozening. And yet we are not so scrupulous altogether, but that we may deceive our deceiver. If one steal from me privily, or deceive me subtly, or extort from me unjustly, I will steal, and wring from him if I can, and do him no wrong in it. Fallere fallentem, violate neque ius neque gentem. Provided always, this be done without scandal, and that we have no other remedy at hand. But as the case of common debtors is, that have no fraud at all in them, and grow behind hand not by riot or vice, but for want of heed, or best advice; the difference is very great. All that shoot come not near the mark. Some be fortunate, but more are unfortunate. Some their good nature hurts, some their negligence, some be ruled where they should not, and false hopes deceive many, without either malice, or evil mind; and may rightly say by their outward fortunes, as David said by his inward, ad nibilum redactus sum, & nescivi, 
Psal. 72.  I am wasted and consumed to nothing, and was not aware. Yet such as these we punish here, as if they had cozened us; and if we durst be so bold, we would not spare the greatness of any man.  
We are at loss by such I grant, but why then did we trust? what hope of gain drew us to it? or if not gain, yet all things we know are in adventure; nothing certain in this world. We lose by sea, and say nothing; we lose by land, and cannot help it; we lose by friends and kinsfolk many times, and look for no amends; we are subject to loss daily, and more to loss, than gain. And why have we not patience then with one that is poor, and not so wise in the world, or not so thriving as we? We are bound sometimes to pardon when we can right ourselves. Why forbear we not then, when revenge will not right us? For what is it else but revenge in us when we be so greedy? It is not seeking our own by it, which will hardly be had that way, and therefore what can we make of such violent courses, but revenge? and there we bid them lie till they rot.  
O let us not stand so high upon the ruffs of our fortunes, or coffers thoroughly lined: let us not conteme our debtors, lest haply we contemn our betters. God blesseth not all alike to the world. Who can tell what will betide the best of us in time to come, or any of ours? We are no better than one of the sons of the Prophets in the fourth of Kings, who died in debt, 
cap. 4.  and his children seized, and like to be sold for it: and yet vir timens Deum, He was a man that feared God. It is no sign of reprobation to owe money, but not to pay when we have it. Mutuabitur peccator & non soluet, 
Psal. 37.  The sinner indeed will borrow and not pay, and is worthily punished. But how many do we know, and could name, that have been sunk ere now, and shrunk in their fortunes; which yet with liberty have risen again to give contentment, and could never have done it in prison?  
If reverend antiquity had foreseen the hardness of hearts, and conscience that now is; they would never have given way to such Laws as they did, that one should tread another under foot as they do. The person of a man hath been much more precious of old, then now it is, and still is in Spain, especially if he be a gentleman. It was not subject to restraint for debt, no not for debt to the king, but by later laws. And though Emperors also had like law for recovering their debts with more speed; 
Baronius tom. 3.  yet Constantine took it away quite, so as none could have their persons touched but for felony, or contempt of majesty, or magistrate. And thus it was in the best commonwealths that ever were, the Egyptians, the Athenians, Spartans', Romans, France, England, and others. And the noble king Servius Tullius, gave a reason of it, who set the old law on foot again, that creditors should go no further than men's goods, and lands. For why should they lose liberty (said he) who preserve the common liberty with their liberty? And yet much ado there was about it after that, for the space of two hundred years. Creditors as they prevailed in credit with great men (which they did too much in our country, or in time of peace, when there was no need of men) got laws against debtors, sometimes to imprison them, sometimes to make them serve for their money. 
Livy. 8.  Which held a great while, till that foul matter fell out between the usurer Papyrius, and his poor bondman young Publius, whom he had so torn with whips, and rods for not yielding to his abominable voluptuousness: that the matter being known, there was present order taken by public decree, that none should be in prison, or in bondage again to Creditors, for time to come.  
I hear of some now adays, whom we have known of good merit in their time, some of them walking the streets continually in danger of arrest, and some that suffered long imprisonment, five, seven, ten, and some twenty years for no greater fault than misspending themselves when they had it, and no man I see takes compassion of them. Much better it were for them, to have all their pains at once, and their Carcase divided amongst the Creditors, as of old it was among the barbarous; then so to languish in inevitable misery, being stripped out of all means. And what is this but revenge under colour of justice. They say nine hornets kill a horse, and two undo a man. That is to say the alewife and a bailiff; or if he be a gentleman, the usurer and a sergeant. How much better is it in Scotland and Venice, Holland, Flanders, and many other places, where men be set free at the years end, if they prove unable; and the Creditor in some countries bears the charge of the Prisoner. Better in Gran Cayre the head city of Africa, where the prison-keeper pays the debt, 
Leo. Afer.  if he take in a prisoner that is not able. The root of all this is extreme covetousness; which having lost the sword, would beat a man to death with the scabbard. justice hath denied her the one, yet lets her tyrannize with the other as heavily as she can. But I will proceed with our greater matters.  
Two things more our pastors teach us as touching our estates; the one is of our bettering it, the other is of our carriage in it towards the Common. In both which there is a great deal of justice to be followed, and much injustice is practised, that lies unseen. And first for amending our means, they hold it a thing to be good, and lawful, but that we are not bound to it. I hold it a sure way to be always mending it a little, if we can, without abating our outward Countenance, or necessary charge. If it so increase and in such wise, as hospitality increase withal, it is commendable and virtuous; if otherwise, it is nought. It is snudging and niggardly and unworthy a gentleman, or man of sort. And to this end I approve their opinions, that spend but half in housekeeping; that is to say, in meat, drink, and wages: and of the other half, by that time we be competently clothed, and have paid our duties to the King, Church, Poor, and other necessaries, to furnish and better our stock, there will be but little left for much idle expense.  
Neither am I forgetful of children or of bestowing them when they come to age; which is also a necessary duty, and worth our care. Some exceed in it, and some come short. To give great portions with one daughter, & little with the rest, is not as it should be. Some there be that strain themselves over far, to match them over high. I am no Solon. But out of the sovereignty that a man hath over his children, it were good he made two laws to himself, and if they were binding, it were all the better. One is never to give above a years revenue with any daughter; and this were enough to marry them honestly, if not honourably. It is a sufficient proportion, if pride be not; but where pride is, a great deal more is too little. I would not have them so strict as Solon, 
Plut. vit.  or Lycurgus, who allow no portion at all for women, more than their clothes, and some other necessaries. The other law should be for sons; never to pay the sons debt, that were riotously spent, having means sufficient allowed him, and such as he did accept. Or else the law of Claudius were good among us, 
Tacit. li. 11 Suet.  and the like was made by Vespasian, to avoid all bonds, especially of interest, which any should make, or enter into, who were at their father's finding or living in house with him. This would be a great preservation of houses, and a stop to young men for running riot; nor would there be such cheating upon them as there is upon presumption of payment. Good nature is against this, as it may seem; but less good nature to ruinated one's house with unlooked for leakage. Some prodigal child will be against me also. 
Luc. 15.  But we read not in Scripture that he spent any more but his own, his father paid no debts for him.  
Increase of our estate is many ways, and every way vicious, if we look not into it narrowly, and be not somewhat furnished with good counsel, and conscience. For avoiding of which danger, it is good for a man to inform himself of truth, and justice in every business; and he that flatters himself herein, thrusts a sword in himself, and sets on fire his own house, though he live not to see it. They that grow rich on a sudden, shall want blessing in the ending. 
Prou. 20.  And it is very suspicious that they come not rightly to it, unless it be by merchandise, or offices. Land and money can seldom do it suddenly without wrong, and injustice. It were wisdom never to purchase without store of Superfluum. It were charity to lend first (if the man be poor) before we buy his land of him. But we have no precept for any of these. A man is bound to neither; and therefore I leave it. Yet charity and justice exact of us, that we defraud no man of his full price in the purchase. He is driven to fell; and when he hath sold, he never comes to it again. God forbidden we should beguile him of aught, or make use of him so far, that instead of lending him, we should work upon his need.  
The learned make three prices of every thing, which they use to call summum medium, and infimum. The highest lowest, and middle price; each price exceeding other by one at the least for land: as if twenty be the most, eighteen the least; the middle price must be nineteen years purchase. Hear they tell us, we are bound to give him eighteen for his land: and no less; and the other may take twenty, and no more. I speak after the ordinary course of things. For times and circumstances may be; upon occasion of wars, scarcity of money, or fewness of buyers; and the contrary of these make it dear. Ordinarily, there be two notable faults in buying and selling.  
The one is in the buyer, the other is in the seller, and both proceed of griping, and covetousness; and men must look to answer for it in an other world, howsoever they do vaunt themselves of their fortune here. I speak of no dark matters, but what every one may know, and shall have no excuse for, when God shall one day charge them with bloodsucking one of another. We are bidden to do what we will be done to, 
Mat. 7.  that is to say, we must nôt do, as we will not be done to. The law of nature teacheth us, how abject and base it is, and I may say unchristianlike, to lie upon advantage as we do one of another. 
Cap. 27.  There is a saying in Ecclesiasticus: Qui quaerit locupletari angustabitur peccatis, He that strives to be rich, shall be pinched with sins. And he compares the buyer, and seller, to a post in a stone wall that cannot stir for the stones that stick so close round about it: even so (saith he) stands Covetousness between buying, and selling, that can hardly stir any way for sinning, and pinching our brother. I pray think of it seriously, it is no idle thing I tell you of.  
The fault of the buyer is, to give but the one half for it, or three parts of four at the most. Hear is a whole quarter purloined from the owner. He denies not the profit of it, he mislikes not the tenor, or assurance, or honesty of the seller. But his reason is, I have bought for twelve, I never gave more than fourteen. A bad reason; I have done naughtily, therefore I will not amend. I have helped to undo some, therefore I will undo more. But if he wished his son would sell so, he would not leave him a foot. An other reason. He was as willing to take my money, as I to give it. True. And so it is with him, that gives forty in the hundred. A third reason. Land may fall to a low rate, but when? All the mines are discovered, and set on broach to the world; people increasing, never more, and land they must have of them that have it. No wars likely, peace round about us. And if they should sell again, what they buy so good cheap; these would be no reasons. They will not sell for eighteen, that they bought for thirteen. But the true reason is, the sweet they have by unlawful gain. Ten in the hundred at the least, & most commonly interest, upon in terest now grown so common, & tyrannizing almost every where without control: that who is there almost that hath money, and will buy land, where he shall not see his money again, in eighteen, or twenty years as he must not, if he do justly. Where contrary, the usurer dubbles his hundred in seven years all save five pound, two shillings seven pence. And in twenty years, he sees it five or six times double. His hundred is made six hundred, fourteen shillings, eleven pence. His thousand comes to six thousand, seven hundred, twenty seven pound, nine shillings, eleven pence. And if it come in half yearly, or quarterly, it is more. But this is his rate and rule, or no bargain with him. He is not in need himself, and tother is, and must have it at any rate, be it never so unconscionable. Banish therefore this monster, or commonwealths worm, and twenty pound land will be worth twenty years' puchase I doubt not. Where vice reigneth, virtue sits without doors; and land bears no price, nor fishing to the sea shortly where usury domineers.  
The cellar's fault is to take double for it if he can; thinking every thing so much worth as a man will give for it. Which is not so. The price of land is certain within a little over, or under, as I said before, though it be not so of stone and pearl. But the injustice of this is, when I make a man pay for his commodity over and beside the highest price. It is worth but twenty at the most, and I make him pay thirty, or five and twenty for it, because it lies handsomely within him, or is so necessary for him, that he cannot be without it: all that I take above the highest ordinary, they tell us is unjust, and subject to restitution. For I make him pay twice for it. Once for the full value, another for his commodity. As if I should make a sick body pay double for a partridge; one for the value, another for the wholesomeness of it. This must needs be extorting, and vicious; proceeding always of covetise, or malice, and yet is grown so common, that men will not hear the contrary. To this may be added Monopolies, or ingrocing of needful commodities into one or a few men's hands, to make them dearer. Likewise to buy or sell with simple or unexperienced persons, who know not what they buy or sell, yet are no fools. The rule is this. They may buy for the least of the three; and they may sell again presently for the best of the three, and make gain of it, but more than this will not be warranted with good conscience.  
The fault of both buyer and seller is this, that they joy and glory in their doings. It is their daily study, and they take a pride in it. And what do they glory in? Even that which will work them a great deal of woe. Happy is that man, that buys as he will sell, and sells as he will buy. This is the glory a good body should take; and not in pinching and pulling from his brother. 
Psal. 61.  Mendaces filii hominum in statêris, There is complaint made to God of us, what ill measure we keep to our brother. King David calls us liars in our weights. We buy with one weight, and sell with another. Is this meant by none but bakers, and butterwives think ye; and not much more by other matters, that sink men's estates, and make them groan. Why should the poor be defrauded a penny of the full worth, when if a rich man sell, he will have more than he, by ten or twenty in the hundred.  
Aristides, who for his singular justness was called the Just; defined justice thus: not to desire any thing that was another man's. So far was he from taking, or seeking; that he would not so much as covet another man's. And how far are we from this, who are coveting still, even when we cannot have? Biblius was so afraid of this coveting humour, that he would not stoop at a purse, or any thing else he found, for fear of being tempted. In general it is good in buying and selling, to keep even between the pious or least price, and the rigorous or highest price, as your Aristides will advise you, if ye will ask. I will not persuade you to do as Hermes Aegyptius did, a great wise man, both learned and rich. Some think it was he that apologied for Christians to the Emperor Adrian. It is written of him, that he would never buy, but he would give too much rather; and would not sell, but he would take somewhat under. The like we read of Quintus Mutius long before him, who although he were heathen, yet in compassion of the sellers need, he gave them more for their houses or lands which he bought, than they would ask.  
If we that profess Christianity were all of his mind, we would busy our heads no doubt, with better matters, and more worthy of ourselves, then how to make gain still by another's harm; neither do I speak this to put scruples in your heads, which I am far from, and I omit them of purpose. They be matters of great moment which I mind you of, and as much as your souls are worth; no less I say, than the breach of one whole commandment, the last of the ten, 
Exod. 20.17  Thou shalt not so much as covet thy neighbour's goods, and this doth bind us as much as the other nine. Howbeit, we pass it over lightly, as if it were nothing; being in very deed the sum and ground of all justice between man and man. In other precepts the act; here the desire only is forbidden, as either to desire an other man's, who is not willing to departed with it, as Naboth was not; 
3 Reg. 21.  or to have it for less than it is worth, as the Common case is at this day. And both these are directly against the Commandment, Thou shalt not covet. And therefore he that draws from his neighbour in this manner, sinneth doubly; that is to say, in coveting, which is a sin alone by itself, and also in acting, which is against the eighth Commandment.  
It is also against the general precept of loving our neighbour as ourself, which every man is bound unto. For Qui non diligit manet in morte. It is damnation I say, 
1 joh. 3.  not to love our neighbour as ourselves. And who is he that thinks he loves a man, and doth what he can to pull him on his knees? The learned tell us, there be four degrees of love, which if we have not, or have none of them, it is a sign that we have no love. The first they say is liquefaction, that is to say, 
Aquinas. 1. 2ae. q. 28.5.  a melting, or a relenting heart towards our brother. The second is a delight we have to be where we love. The third is a heaviness to be from our love. The fourth is fervour, or a burning love. And although it be not given to every man to have these three last, which are delight, longing, and fervency: yet none can love without the first, or least degree, which is a relenting, or compassion over our brother, when we see him in distress, and sell for need. Surely, if this be love, it is a congealed or frozen love, which is contrary to melting love. It is a cold love, which is contrary to fervent love. Yea, it is no love at all; or if it be, it is the devils love, who loves us to devour us, and swallow us down his throat. What we give our brother too little, would haply set him up again, and do ourselves no hurt. And yet we love him so, that we have no feeling in us of the least commiseration towards him.  
Howbeit the corruption of the time so concealeth this injustice from us, and hath bred such blindness in our hearts with continual coveting, that it is now grown from a sin, to a very disease. I know ye scan upon my words, and I do not marvel. What? shall I not buy as good cheap (say you) and sell as dear as I can? nothing frecer than gift; if a man will give me his land, I will take it. But how many give their land, that sell for need? Ye may not deceive yourselves, nor be judges in your own case. I exhort you to repair to them that have skill. And this is the whole scope of my speech. Believe not me, but believe them at your peril. We will not rob, nor steal, nor scarce tell money on a Sunday; and so long we think all is well with us. But we will seek a bargain to day, that shall gain us five hundred, or a thousand to morrow; and this is just with us, because it is no usury. How far is this from the nature of bargaining, to do as we do. The very word of bargaining bids us bar gain, and take but a pennyworth for a penny. The Merchant adventures dangerously for that he gets; but this man without adventure at all, if he meet with an honest man, and his Lawyer be not asleep. Yet thus much he gets, and will get as much more next day if he can, by one bodies need, or other. O where be the bowels of charity, that we can sleep quietly in our beds, 
Gal. 5.15.  and our poor brother undone by us? Saint Paul calls it eating one another. The cry of it reaches up to heaven, yet will it not reach to our ears. Yea more than this; men praise our fortune for it; and wish it were theirs: and I shall not have such fortune saith one; and I shall never have such luck saith another. A sweet piece of luck; when we cannot rise so fast, but a hundred of others go down as fast. Have care of it I beseech you; I give it you in charge, that ye may not be unfurnished at the counting day, nor others by your examples.  
Now as concerning the things that are bought and sold; we must think the principal thing that is to be had for money, is land. Nothing more worth a man's money, or more truly valuable, or profitable, then good land. Store of land makes great men. Greatness of lands makes kings great. Terra matter omnium, The earth is mother, and matter of all things. Whence comes all our sustenance but from crop, and vintage; whence our strength and complexion, but from maid-sweete in green meadows, and three leaved grass? bags of money will not bring forth a rose; nor heaps of gold make cherries. And where go we for shade in a parching day, but to the green wood? where fetch we fire in cold weather, but from the same? whether go we to see our hawk fly, or follow our hounds, but to hill, and vale, and stubble field? galleries, and great chambers will not serve our turn. Land fills markets with dainties and necessaries. Land furnishes the sea with shipping to carry out, and bring in. Fish is fat with that comes from land, and the the fowls of the air, with all their variety, are homagers to land for all their feature, and food. If a man have all the riches and jewels in the world, what are they good for, but to buy land withal? when we be dead, we shall need land, and nothing else but land. Abraham was rich of gold, and silver; but gold, and silver would not have buried him, if he had not bought land for it.  
We read in Scripture when God would make his people blessed, he promised them land; knowing nothing so great a blessing in this transitory world, as land. 
Psal. 9  Pulchritudo agri mecum est saith he, the beauty of the field is mine to bestow. Land he promised them, and land he gave them, to every one some, as I said before. What possession is there, that yields us thirty, sixty, yea an huudred for one but land, by Christ's own words. And therefore I marvel not at Naboth in the book of Kings, that he parted with life rather than his land, though it were to pleasure a King.  
And I speak not this, that men should love land too much, or desire more of it then only competent. Neither is any thing so good; but we must lose for God, or sell to pay true debts, that every body may have their own. But to set land at nought, or to sell it with loss, and to spend it riotously when we have done, in play or misrule, without order, or honesty, as many do now adays; is there wit, or grace in it? Is gaudy apparel more worth thy money, than land? Dice and cards if they were of gold, are they more precious in thy eye then goodly lands? will thy mistress maintain thee when all is gone; or is the soaking usurer more worthy thy patrimony, than thy father's child? No. As nothing so worthy price, as land, so let nothing hold up the price like land, if we will be good to ourselves, or to the common, as may be easily demonstrated. To be short, there will be alawies some that sell. And it is free for all to buy that can; unless it be crowneland; Churchland, or the poors. Thus much for the best possession, which is land.  
Now for other things that are bought and sold; I must give you to understand, that there is in this no small injustice & ignorance abroad in the world. The ignorant make scruple where none is, for buying honours, and offices. And the Covetous make a tush at Church-lawes, if they prove against sense and profit. Simony they dare not avouch, but to buy and sell advowsons, and right of Patronage, either appendent, or in gross, or to extort pensions or anuities from incumbents, they think it no sin. There be also that will not buy a benefice; but they will give well to another, that shall procure it them. To take a gratuity it is lawful, so it be without pact; but to frown at the gratuity, if it be not big enough, is no better than Simony. To give money for a spiritual service, otherwise then by way of alms to the poor, as for praying, preaching, christening, or such like, it is holden abominable; yet not unlawful to give or take for ones pains, and travel in such business; or to give yearly stipends for weekly or monthly duties. For though no spiritual function be valuable with price; yet ones labour and tie to it is.  
Moreover to with hold our tithe, as it is a sin well known, and to take more than is due, is also very unjust; so do I hold it very infortunate, and ominous to our estates (if I may so say) to be niggardly in this duty, or to give the worst we have. For God must needs be sparing to us, and pinching in his blessings, if we be pinching to him, and think all too good, that goes that way. And to speak my conscience, although in some sort against myself; I know not how two things be warrantable about this business, and yet are very common among us. The one is in paying Custom, or composition tithe, when tithe in kind is worth twenty times more. For though tithe in kind were little more worth when such custom began, and the people fewer to be taught; yet now, the world being risen to a higher rate, more people to be instructed, ten, or twenty for one; the clergy likewise increased, rents, and profits also aised, and all commodities at the dearest; a poor pastor must have no more but a noble or ten groats, as he had then, for that which is worth at this day a great deal more. There is a maxim in law, that a custom to pay nothing is a void custom; and what is it then to give little better than nothing; twelve pence perhaps for an angel, unless our Clergy had the privilege to buy all things for their money at old rates.  
The other injustice is in paying nothing at all; and there be thousands that do not. Men of traffic, art, and trade, rich, and thriving, who have neither corn, or cattle, nor five acre's land to pay tithe for, if it be a house, it is all. Abraham paid it Melchisedecke of all he had, even of that which fell unto him by spoil of his enemies. 
Heb. 7. Lib. 20. Thucid. lib. 3. lib. 5. Gen. 28.  The like we read the Grecians did to their Painym gods, as Thucydides and justine write of the Spartans', Crotoniates, and Locrine's; and Livy of Furius Camillus, to Apollo Delphicus by the light of nature. Jacob vowed to God all manner of tithing, not of this commodity, or that, but of all he possessed. Not that a man should give of that which lies by him; but only of the increase, which comes of money, or goods employed in any lawful negotiation. 
Hom. 43. in Cor. Ser. 1. de domin. 12. 1. Cor. 3.  For so saith Saint chrysostom, who freeth not the very tradseman, or artificer, nor Saint Augustine the soldier or merchant from this bond of Tithe, if he get any thing by it, though it be by nothing else, but by buying, and selling. For it is God who gives the increase of both alike, and must therefore have his part in both alike. The law cannot say what this man, or that man gains, and therefore leaves it to men's consciences. And they are called privy-tithes, which many good men have used ere now, and I lay no bond upon you; but wish you to inquire of them that be learned; that you may not be found unthankful when ye shall be summoned before your grand benefactor.  
Now for temporal offices, I am rather to note the vulgar ignorance, then dissuade any thing. When we see great offices bought and sold, which we cannot have ourselves; we make a nod at it commonly, and cry Omnia venalia, as if they were Church offices. Indeed where judges do sell justice, and lie open to bribes, there is Omnia venalia. And so if they deny justice, or delay justice for money, or if they be partial, and accept of one person more than another, we may justly say Omnia venalia. But there be two sorts of offices. The one of judgement, the other of execution. This latter there is no question of, being mere temporal, and of profit certain, and therefore valuable for money, as house and land are. And such be all under officers of court, or of justice, especially if they be for life, or to ones heirs. And many of these kinds are sought for, more for countenance and credit, then for fee, or profit. For as Comines saith, some have given so for them, 
Lib. 1.  that they have not seen their money again in fifteen years.  
Offices of judgement also are in a sort valuable. For although the Emperor Severus were very severe herein, and removed them from their places when he came; yet it was rather for their dear buying of offices, which made them subject to bribes, than otherwise. For when a favourite of his did think to prevail so far with him as to keep his office still, telling him that it cost him dear; ye therefore thou shalt lose it said he. They that buy dear, must sell dear. And he would allow him no more but one years profit, and away. The learned say it is not only lawful for the commonwealth to take money in such cases, but also necessary. Lawful because they take it not for doing justice; but for the profits belonging to it, which is the commonwealths to bestow, and which they may take to themselves, if they list. Necessary also for increasing the common treasury, which ought not to be neglected, where lawful means will afford it. Yet so notwithstanding, that care be had of a worthy choice, and moderation be used, that they pay not too much for it; both in regard of their years commonly, which will not let them hold it long; and likewise of their charge, that they be not disabled by it, to give countenance to their place, and to maintain hospitality. Haply, the sum of two years profit will not hurt them; and after that rate took King Henry the seventh of England, of the Lord Chief justice in those days, which I hear was five hundred marks.  
Lastly for buying and selling honours, the question is not so much of the injustice in bestowing, as folly in the seeking. And therefore I will give it but a touch. Honour was ordained for a reward of merit; and merit is either of act, or fortune. If it be of act; as for valour, or virtue; honour is due without money by justice distributive. If merit of fortune, as favour, birth, riches; it is no new thing to purchase honour or arms, as due to their fortunes, by justice commutative. And this is called by Bartolus a civil honour, being the Princes to bestow, where and when he will, and upon what motive he will, and for money if he will, to enable him the better for those that merit in act. Yet so notwithstanding, that the better the motive is, the more honour to the receiver. The fault or folly is as I said, to seek it without merit at all, or to wrong others that are better than themselves. The old rule is always true, Malo esse quàm haberi, and thus much for lesser honours. Of greater honours I say nothing. For as men are more in view of the Prince, whence honour comes; so better note is taken of their merit. And we may not doubt but they are well deserved of a prudent Prince, wheresoever we find them to be bestowed. But I leave this matter, and go forward with our dregs of avarice, if any thing be to be said else.  
No doubt there is more to be spoken of, than I mean to trouble you with. Contracts for money, stock, or cattle, let out together, or apart, are infinite. Wherein the learned discover to us much corruption, whether with saving, or losing the principal; whether with adventure, or without, in nature of pawn, or mortgage, or absolute, by direct bargain or condition, or bills of exchange. In these and many other, are many shifts, and devices for profit extraordinary, which pass for currant daily, yet are unlawful, and liable to restitution. Wherein I do not particularise, for holding you too long. But we may know them partly, and shall have cause to doubt them, and to inquire of them, by the greatness of the gain; and ignorance will not excuse us, when it is gross. And two things make it gross. One is if it be like sin, or extorsion for the excessive gain: as to get a commodity for five, that is worth ten; why should not a man doubt, and ask in this case? The other is when we have ready means to inform ourselves by those that be learned, and will not; but live close, and work by ourselves. We ask ourselves whether we be able to deal with it or no; we ask Lawyers for our title, and security. And where should we seek for the right, and justice of it before God, but of Divines? whom God calls his Angel by the mouth of his Prophet; 
Mal. 2. jer. 18.  and saith, we must ask his Law at their mouth; Et legem requirent ex ore eius. And we should never adventure upon any thing that our Charity doubts of, without their counsel. Who are as ready at hand for our spiritual good, as others are for our temporal. Yet if it be so that doctors doubt of the case, ye may practise whether ye will; though indeed the safest opinion be the best for us.  
If it please you to listen to them seriously, remembering always what snares hang about you, as thick as ycesickles in the i'll of your Charity: believe me, ye will find much good of it. They will help you in the very game you play at, that ye may not be undone by it. But they will not allow you to play away above the twentieth part of your come in by the year. More than this they hold wasteful, or avaricious. Not that they know just when it gins to be sin, but by some notable decay it makes in your estate; and therefore will put a conscience in you to waste no more. If the twentieth part be spent, there be but nineteen left. If another part, or t'one half be spent, there is but so much left, and so much weaker ye grow to do yourselves good, or any of yours; and ye must come to sell land for it, which they will by no means allow. They hold it little less than damnable to play away such a deal in a night, as many do; or to have other end of gaming, then for good companies sake, or passing away the time. And if ye entice one to play that hath no skill, or win of a servant his master's goods, or of a wife her husband's money, or of a child that which is his parents, without consent or connivence: all ye get thus, is none of yours, but must be restored.  
They give us a caveat likewise against Alchumy, or chymike art, for the known idleness of it, and the apparent hurt to men's estates, that have followed it, and spent long time in it; whereof nothing hath come but smoke, and expense, and fruitless effects. It is a wonder to tell, what gold and silver it hath cost, to make gold and silver, and how many have been consumed by it. Whether it were the charge of workmanship, or cozening in undertakers, or God's curse upon the avaricious attempt, especially of late years, since common experience hath proved it idle, and the censure of Divines hath declared it sinful: which of all these is the true fault I know not. But if they be true professors of it, they come to beggary in the end: which our provident pastors would not that we should fall into. This art hath been much used in the kingdom of Fez; 
Leo. Afer.  where they were very skilful both in making the Elixir, and multiplying of metal. But they turned in the end to coining, and lost both their hands for it, by which mark they have been commonly known.  
Two sayings more our learned have to Lawyers and Attorneys, and all their appendents, under the degree of judges. For of judges and Clergy men I can say little, or rather nothing. 
Psal. 81.  They are Gods upon earth. The one may say Si mei non fuerint dominati, 
Psal. 18. 1. Reg. 2.16  If I wink not too much at Ophni, and Phinees in my place; but have an eye to their abuses, that daily press the poor subject, tunc immaculatus ero, 
1 Cor. 13.5  Then shall I be unspotted. The other, if they seek not their own, but the good of their flock, both spiritually and temporally; what can we ask more? But of Counsellors, and Advocates it is required; that first, and foremost they take not excessive fees, nor fee at all, but what they do somewhat for. In a late Parliament of France, they were limited what to take, and no more: which thing so displeased them, that they gave over their practice three or four hundred of them at once, and men could have no law for their money, until they were brought back again with a device. 
Lib. 11.  It may seem by Tacitus that the Roman Lawyer took no fee, until he had won the cause. Which made them I think more careful of their matters, and better studied. For their clients cause was now become their own, and they would follow it no doubt, though their Client were asleep. Neither durst they very easily entertain a bad cause, for fear to have nothing for their pains. only their fault was in taking excessively, hundreds of pounds for a see, and sometimes thousands, until they were stinted by the Emperor Claudius, to take but a hundred marks at the most, or thereabouts.  
An unworthy thing it is that Lawyers should need Laws. 
1 Tim. 5.  Dignus est operarius mercede sua. If they be learned, they deserve more, and their desert must be answerable to their pains. I say no more but this. There be many of known conscience, and grave, of whom I would wish the younger sort to learn conscience, as well as Law. But the second fault is the greater in my opinion, and that is their entertaining, and advising of bad causes, or causes of small moment. For bad causes, I have known some learned men that would give no counsel with usurers, or bargains of unlawful gain. Likewise for slight matters, and trifling quarrels, that stood more upon will, than reason; I have known others, that would not be of counsel with such, nor take their money by any means. But what the centumviral authority was in Augustus his time, to visit courts of justice, and cull out all trivial actions, and to force men to an end whether they would or no; these have practised before hand, that they might never come so far, as to trouble a court. 
Mat. 5.  Blessed be the peacemakers. And this belongeth principally to men of law. So far be it from them to wait upon every man's passion for a little gain; and to bolster up men's idle humours with calumnious bills, and answers, and smothing of lies, more like to sophisters, than men of gravity; and all for what will ye give me. He that aids the evil in their desires, is particeps criminis. Be he counsellor, or coursiter, Sheriff, or sheriffs men, who execute for usurers, or quarrelous busy-bodies: Your Divines will tell you, (not I) that they sin as well as the parties, and are bound to restore.  
The like may be said of executors to usurers, and to wrong doers. They be subject to restitution as the testator was, if they exact, or execute in right of his wrong. To you I may speak it; but to them, I do surdo canere. It is in vain to tell them of it; the world is become uncapable of this verity. And of all the multitudes that offend herein, I can name but one that made conscience of it. For when they die, they leave all to such as themselves, that will not part with a groat, howsoever it were gotten. Yet one I knew, who was executor to such a one, and refused to administer, but for me. For I asked him whether he knew what he did, or no? Or whether he had not power in him now to right many? Right said he? Who can tell when all will be righted whom he hath wronged. He is damned, if any be damned, and I will not meddle with ill gotten goods. The more to blame you, (said I) you speak not according to knowledge. How know you that he is damned, who died of so good a mind, as to make you executor, that wants neither knowledge, nor will to make all even, that he hath done amiss. And therefore I told him, he ought, and must, and so he did, and made such a restitution as hath not been heard of in France.  
I may not stand to unrippe all things. Yet one thing more I may not omit. The law of escheats is very beneficial in this kingdom, both to king, and mean Lords, and requires in us much conscience to free us from injustice. Our greediness after escheats is very sinful, especially upon matters of life, and death. For in wishing the effect, which is felons goods, we wish the cause also, which is felony, or treason. Our pastors tell us, it is not good for us to take all we may by law. But as we be Lords, so much we be Chancellors, and have our eye still at equity, and brotherly compassion. He that will take all, is bound to keep wife, and children sometimes more than his own; or else provide for them otherwise. For though their means be gone, yet they must be fed. I speak not of open sins in this kind, as when a man shall pry into othermen's doings, even their own freeholders, and tenants, for love of that they have, and not for justice. The rule of Saint Augustine is, that when we be judges over our brethren, we must condole with them. Congemiscat saith he, et ad pariter conandum seinuitet, We ought to sigh together with them, and to stir ourselves to amendment, by that in them was amiss.  
Much like to these are most informers, and promoters, who live upon forfeitures, and spoil of others. I would have them know their sin, and save their souls. I would have them beeseruants of justice, and not of cursed lucre. Their wages is commonly a third part, but they make it more than the whole many times. Worse than these are those who under colour of nullum tempus occurrit regi, Fall to searching records for old attainders, and sleeping recognizances, to entitle the King, or themselves, and to trouble the subject, so far forth; as he knows not whether he have any thing of his own, or no. But see their conscience. For I speak only of the abuse. If it be so, that they find for the subject, they say nothing. 
Luk. 3.  The Scripture bids us disquiet no man, neminem concutieritis, Live not upon thy brother's spoil. But what saith hê? I will not spare my father, if I can get by it. Non eris criminator, nec susurro in populo, 
Levit. 19  Thou shalt not raise a crime, or a whisper among the people. Let them look to it and inquire whether this be not meant by them; 
Mar. 2. Luk. 5.7.15 Cap. 2.  and whether these be not the Publicans the Scripturespeaketh of, when it joineth the Publican always, and sinner together. A publican is called a Publicando, that is to say of confiscating; as we read in Daniel, Domus vestrae publicabuntur, Your houses shall be confiscate, and these be the instruments of it. Many Princes, when they have come to their estates, have laid their first animadversion upon such as these, and have driven them out of their Dominions with many stripes. 
Herodian. Suet in Tit. Domis  Titus moreover to the end there might be no use of them at all, made these two laws. One was, because there were many laws for one thing, therefore if a man had been sued upon any one of them, he should never be touched for the rest. Another was, that if the ancestor were once dead, and a few years past, the heir should never be charged with old matters.  
I could enlarge myself much further upon this subject, if I would open the injustice of every particular estate. But partly, they may all be reduced to some of these I have spoken of; and partly are touched in the penal laws of every country, which are given in charge at assizes, and sessions, for all men to take notice of, that will live by a law. And therefore let this suffice to make you see your danger, and the need ye have to advise with some body; and often to ask about your private affairs, before your account grow too great, and your clog too heavy, in the sight of God. And how do ye know but these may be the secret sins, which the Prophet teacheth us to pray that we may be cleansed of; 
Psal. 50.  yet cleave so close to our love, and are so warranted by the practice of the richer sort, that when we should look at our fault, we look quite over it, and cannot find it of ourselves? Ignorance is the mother of sin. If I have brought you out of the one, ye may avoid the other with more ease. And thus much in brief, for our private estates.  
Now for our carriage towards the common, wherein a great part of our duty consisteth, and is much-what forgotten, or neglected: I must have a word or two. Where I cannot forget that noble saying of Leonidas King of Sparta; that more we own to our country, then to our own life. As he approved right well by himself, and all his actions. I have told you, what your learned think belongeth to a good Christian: now hear what they say becometh good citizens, or commonwealths men. That is to say such as are good to the common, love the common, delight in common good, and prefer the same before their private, as I will briefly show you. Ye have heard what they think of life; how little it is to be regarded in respect of common welfare. Even so they tell us of our goods, and estates, and give us one rule in stead of all; which I beseech you to mark whether it be not of God, and most worthy our following. 
2.2 ae, q. 26.3.  In all worldly things (say they) which we are bound to wish to the common, and to ourselves, we are bound to prefer the common before ourselves. They do not say we may prefer; but we are bound, and sin if we do not.  
Out of this rule comedivers noble conclusions, and fit for every man to know. I will remember you of some few in stead of many. I may prefer myself before the common to this house, or that manner, because I am not bound to wish these things to the common. I may save my own horse from drowning before the king's horse, if other danger ensue not, but loss of a horse. It is a common case to defend our right against the King in lawful sort, and to hedge in our grounds from the purlieus, if we have right so to do, though his game have restraint by it. Otherwise, it is of his house, or palace where he dwelleth, which I am bound to defend with loss of my own house in danger of fire. If my storehouse adjoin to the public granary, I must save this before my own. My single damage must not weigh with the public; I am bound to ruin mine own house, to stop a fire from going further. All statutes and by-lawes made for common good, we are bound to observe. And there is a curse due to wilful breakers, as is to them that dig up dooles. Some think they satisfy with paying the penalty. But laws were not made for the penalty, but for conformity, that all may draw by a line. Laws intent not the punishment of a few, but the good of all. And therefore all that be of one commonwealth, must have one spirit, and the same the Lawmakers had. They ought not to set light by laws, nor break them as they list, so they be not spied. Yea more than this, we should rather work ourselves, and be still devising for common good, and for them that come after, though we live not to see it.  
But it is a wonder to see, how cross and contrary we be on this behalf. As if laws belonged not to us, when they be made; or if we keep them, it is more for fear, then love of the common. What a flourishing commonwealth should we now have, if laws had been as duly observed, as gravely provided. Or how would it yet flourish, if we would yet begin, and leave to be children in this kind? Where one makes conscience to keep a good law, twenty break it; and then as good no law. There is none will take benefit sooner than we, of a high way mended, or a bridge new builded, or repaired. But when we come to contribute, we draw back; or if they fetch gravel for it out of our grounds, we resist, and swear, we will be even with them another time. How far is this from common-wealths-men, or good men either? I will approve it, he loves not God, that tenders not common good to his power. 
Aquinas. 1. 2ae. q. 92.1. ad 3.  Aquinas saith, (and other Divines after him) Impossibile est quòd homo sit bonus, nisi sit bene proportionatus bono communi, He cannot be a good man, that is not in good proportion to common good. That is to say, that rates not himself, and ranks not himself for common good, in proportion to his means. And our nation hath been accounted most zealous in this kind, though few care now, but for their own time. We may learn of Moors and African merchants another while; 
Leo Afer.  who I hear are so forward for common good, that we scarce have the like of them now adays amongst Christians. Yea who so opposite to God herein, as we that be Christians?  
Saint Paul saith, 
1 Cor. 9  Omnia omnibus factus sum, I am become all things to all men. What would he have done if he had been rich? 
Col. 3.11. Eph. 1.  He that made himself common to all men's service, should not his purse have been common also to the common good? Christ himself was omnia in omnibus. And surely he that was so liberal of his blood, that all of us have part in it; would he have been sparing of his goods towards us, if he had professed to possess much? would he have preferred himself before the common, or taken from commons as we do, without amends to the poor? We are made like to God saith Leo, 
Ser. 2.  that we may have in ourselves a pattern how to imitate him; yet see how different we be from God herein, who was all for every body, and we nothing for any body, but ourselves. The very Sun (I think) that shines to all, we would engross to ourselves if we could, and make rend of it. How do we imitate Christ in this? and yet we do in this, as we do in all. We make ourselves strangers to his Law in all things. We carry his imitation in our hands to read of; but we have it not in our hearts to make use of. Verily, if it were no more, but for imitating of God, and of Gods known servants; and though ability were not great in us, yet our good will we should show in this duty, and our inclining that way in what we can. The commonwealth should not be so ready to ask of us, as we ready to give. Common-good not so ready to require our service, as we ready to proffer, and perform, and glad that we may stead it in any sort. And this hath been the practice of our forefathers, and ancestors, that have gone before us, as by the public works they have left behind them, and our Chronicles are full of, and every towneship can give testimony, it may appear.  
And this if we cannot do after the best imitation; yet me think we should do it for our honour, and reputation, 
Lib. 5. de ciu. cap. 15.  as Saint Augustine tells the Romans did. Privatas res suas pro re communi, hoc est pro repub. & pro eius aerario contemserunt, They despised their own for the public good, and common treasury. And all their industry was, (if they were good) ut aerarium esset opulentum, tenues res privatae, That their treasury might be rich, though their private were poor enough. And with this agrees Salustius in catelinario, and Ammianus Marcellinus in his fourteenth book.  
And the contrary of this, was base, and odious in those days; especially in great persons; who should be others examples, as that one instance may serve instead of many. Where Valerius Ruffinus was put from the senate by the Censor Fabritius, for buying eight score ounces of plate to his private use. And thus it held (saith Saint Augustine) until corruption came in, and brought in with it the contrary, publice egestatem, privatim opulentiam, 
Aug. lib 5. de civit. dei. cap. 12.  Weakness of common treasury, and greatness of private estates. Hear began forgetfulness of God, and of his blessed imitation; forgetfulness of honour, and of all good order; which will not have the head to stand at courtesy of the hand or foot; or the common to be at the mercy of the private, upon every need or occasion: but rather the contrary, as they that will read, and mark, shall see; that the richer the common was, the richer were ever the commons; unless it were under Tyrants; and the richer that Princes were out of their providence, without cause of exacting, the richer were the subjects, or at the least, less wanting.  
It is for every ones good that the common good thrive; and for this good, we be all born officers. No reasonable creature is exempted from this bond. His sword in time of war, his purse, or other ability in time of peace. The poorest can have no excuse, as far as in them doth lie; much less they that be of means. Who although they be not so wholly for the common, neither is it required as the Romans were: yet most pitiful it is, if not sinful, how hardly any thing comes from them, either for town charge at home, or for the Church, or King. Touching all which as it were our part to be so forward of ourselves, as we should need no rating: so they that be learned hold, that when it comes to rating, we may not hide our estates to lessen our charge, or to lay the more upon others; which is a common sin amongst us. And when it comes to paying, it is done so unwillingly, and unreadily, as if they had mighty wrong in it. I knew a merchant of late, whose ability was inferior to none, his good will was less than most men's. I have heard officers complain of him, how much they had to do, and how often they have attended him for a mark charge, and could never get it of him, till they were ready to distrain a fat ox for it, and then he turned to his man, and bid him pay the knaves.  
It is a shame to tell what shifts we make to put of taxes, and subsidies when they come, be they never so needful. Divines tell us two things about them. One is on the subjects part, a readiness to perform. The other on the Taxers part, that it be not out of covetousness, but of need. And if of need, yet it must be regarded; that the burden light not upon the poorer sort, as the tax of salt did, which Philip de Valois imposed, making every man pay as much as the rich. Or to lay tribute upon country necessaries, which we cannot be without, or upon servants wages, or labourer's earnings and such like. And if a tax be doubtful, whether it be just or no, or not certain, we are bound to pay it, and the public is to be preferred (some say) though other say no; that melior est conditio possidentis, as it is in other cases of doubt, between party and party. But my purpose is not to trouble you with doubts, and questions. listen I beseech you to known truths, which learned men of the best, do all agree upon, and will resolve you in.  
And because we speak of public estates, and private; it is to be deduced out of the grounds aforesaid, that both common and private, are to attend their Sovereign's estate; being a thing the whole good of a kingdom dependeth on, as much as may be. And therefore where they hold it dangerous to our souls, to have much lying by us, as I will show you anon: Yet otherwise in kings, to be rich and well stored with treasure, it is both honourable and necessary, & they can hardly have too much. 
Navar. Pom. Let  They must multa possidere, that must multa impendere, as one advised Constantine. So manifold be the charges that press them daily, so infinite the pipes, that suck still, and draw from their cistern, to make it dry: especially in this age, and these times, when all things are at the highest; and the wisest that are, and that live most providently have somewhat to do to keep out of debt. Kings much more in their Chaos of occasions, which the subject never feels, nor thinks of, until the Sovereign be in debt, and their aid be required for contribution.  
It hath been an old prayer amongst us; that we may live out of debt, and deadly sin. But a vain prayer, if ourselves put not to it our helping hand, and the best endeavour we can. We are bound to pray it for ourselves, we are bound to pray it for the common. And particularly for the head of the common. For soul business as I said before, we must prefer ourselves before all men. And therefore my rule was, in all temporal good, we must prefer the common. Peace and prosperity which are temporal blessings, we must wish to the common, before ourselves. poverty, and debt are temporal evils in all; but in Princes most intolerable. And therefore a king's estate herrein must be preferred before our own, whensoever it happens. There, must every man's hand, and heart work together; there must duty, and love contend which shall outstrip the other; there must we apply our wits, their our abilities, even for God's love, if we owed our Prince none. How much more if he be mild, and clement, and one according to our hearts, good to all, hurtful to none. And in so doing, we do good to ourselves; the King of heaven will reward us, though kings of earth never hear of our names.  
And I speak it the rather to inform your consciences against this eating evil of the west. For it is hardly matched all over the world beside. That which heathen princes compel, and command, we have much a do to be entreated. That which out of Christian knowledge we are bound to offer, we make difficulty to be drawn to. That which our tenants do for us most readily, though it cost them their best cow in their yard, to uphold their Landlord at a need; we think much to do to him, that is Landlord to us all. We should teach heathens obedience, and they teach us. It is absurd to see how we be haled to common good. We were yesterday rich, and made our brags. To day when we come to be assessest, we are poor, and make believe we have nothing, or not a foot of freehold; as one of the richest subjects in our nation I heard say once, when he was charged with a couple of lances.  
O how sparing would such men be of their bodies and blood (saith Boccace) if their country should need it, 
Lib. 25.  that are so near themselves in their worldly pelf. They stretch themselves far to bestow their daughters magnificently, rather than civilly, and to furnish a bride chamber for a Prince, rather than for a private body. They spare for no cost to set out themselves with satins and silks, their wives with bracelets, an borders of gold, and pearl. Their horse with trapping, and furniture of the best. Their hawks, and hounds shall want no cost of keeping, and manning, yet can they find nothing for the common. Fools, that we are, what will become of us if the common weal be in shipwreck? What will great kindred avail, if the commonwealth fail? How will peace be maintained, wrongs righted, or private good secured? Who will there be to give us justice, Quis dabit iura, si publicum cessabit subsidium; Take away common aid and subsidy, and take away all ownershippe from all men. Thus far he, and more to like effect. It is absolutely against duty, and policy, to do as we do, and God will plague us for both at once. That it is against duty, I have told you already, and if ye will ask your learned, they will tell you much better, 
1. Pet. 2.  regem honorificate. What honour is it we do him, or ourselves, to deny him public aid, or to shrink in our heads, or to make such beggarly suits as we do, to be discharged?  
It is also against policy; for we must allow them to be Kings, and full of Prerogative. Both Gods law, and man's law gives it them. They are patriae parents, and what the child is bound unto towards his parents, we are bound as much to our Princes, and they say more. And therefore if we forget ourselves towards them, when occasions bring them behind hand, and they are loath to urge our unwillingness: can we blame them, if they do what they can out of their prerogative Royal, to help themselves? In places where Kings have no lands, yet they live like Kings, by their prerogative: and if they have lands also, yet they lose no prerogative though they use it not always, but at a need. And moreover, if subjects be unkind, they spoil their Princes, and will make them do many things, that they may, and would not; take all forfeitures and escheats, close their hands to all pardons and immunities, enclose forests, and chases, and all their wastes to themselves, give ear to all informers, and promoters, that shall any way entitle them, and that which is worst they will make them sell and alienate the revenues of the crown: which is so unfitting a thing to a king's estate, that subjects ought to take notice of it, and make means rather for his relief. Much less ought they to rob kings, and pull from kings; especially if they be officers in any sort. It is next to sacrilege, and robbing of Churches, to supplant a King. A king's officer had need to be one of his joints, if it might be. For nothing so consolidates the greatness of a king, as trusty, and true officers; and nothing soooner sinks the same, then to bore holes in his ship. Remember I forewarn you, if ye chance to bear office.  
If a king be poor and unable, can the subject be secure? Is he not a prey to his enemies, and we with him? Or do we not know by ourselves, and our own debts, how immense will his be quickly, if they be not quit betimes? He that sees a king in debt, sees but half a king, to that he is, and would be if he were free. His bounty is stop, his rewards stopped, and much grace stopped, that would flow like balm from him towards his subject; and many a good thing unperformed by him, that would help and enrich many. If a king be in plenty, all the care he hath, is, that his subject may have also plenty. But if otherwise, all his care will be for himself, and all the good a king can do is hindered, or rather buried before it be hatched. I cannot speak too much of the sores that do ensue the indebted estate of kings. Our flourishing France had a costly trial of it once or twice in my memory, and was in great hazard by it, if timely aid had not come. Her headache made her cry hearty, caput meum doleo, 
4. Reg. 4.  caput meum doleo; and if God had not helped her when time was, she could not have been raised again without miracle.  
Two great faults I note in the subject about this affair. One is an unworthy tergiversation, or backwardness in him towards the common good, with a base conceit he hath, that all is too much that goes that way, never reflecting upon his duty to God, and his country, nor to the ease of those that be not so well able as he. He will lay all upon his tenants if he can, and have all his rents come in clear to him. And the richer they be, the further off most of them, as may be seen by their carriage. The other fault is delay; where if that were done at the first, which must be done at the last, when it is grown double and treble with linger; it would have been much better; where now it is scarcely seen. Interest increaseth, and new charges grow, before the old be discharged; and by that time one subsidy be paid in, two more will not suffice. Which punishes also the subject more, than had he drawn his purse wide, and cleared all at the first. And therefore I commend them of Utica, when Julius Caesar came, and imposed a great matter upon them, to be paid at six payments in three years; they made him answer out of their love, or height of mind, that they would pay all down, and so they did the same day. 
Naucl.  I think three hundred persons paid all.  
Once well done, is twice done. But as matters be handled, ten times done is scarce once done. Before the kingshould fell land, or diminish his estate; who would not make the hundredth part of his means, and give it him down, rather than make an every years charge of it, as we do, and the king not much the better by it? And this would quit a million or two suddenly for once in a king's life time, and do no man hurt. And how much better this, to give part rather than all, or half, or a third part of ones Rents, as they did to Ladislaus king of Boheme, and Hungary; and as in extremity wê are bound, though God defend it should be needed. But I have read of the like in other countries; namely once in Rome, under the Consuls, 
Livy. 26. Florus.  Levinus and Marcellus, when there was not a man from the highest to the lowest, who brought not into the treasury all his gold and silver he had; and left themselves little else, but what they wore on therr belts and buckles, and rings on their fingers. An other time, they of Marseiles did the like unasked, 
just. 43.  to aid the Romans at a need, and left not themselves a piece of gold, either in public, or private.  
Neither is it fit for us to judge the State at our pleasure, when matter of burden is propounded, our Sovereign being wise, and bearing conscience towards us. They sit near the Sun, and know what must be, better than we. They are wise, and more experienced than we, and their part is in the burden, as well as ours. It belongs to us to listen willingly, and perform gladly. 
2. Cor. 9  Hilarem datorem diligit deus, God loves a cheerful giver, and blesses him no doubt accordingly. And the reason why our ancestors thrived better than we, and lived more plentifully, Saint Augustine imputeth to this, Quia deo decimas, 
Hom. 48. de Sanctis.  regi censum dabant, Because tithes they paid to God, and tribute to the king. Others pay also at this day, but they do it not willingly, and God regards more what the heart doth, than what the hand doth.  
And therefore whosoever be justices, or Assessors on the bench; our love and conscience must be of the quorum. Let mutiny and turbulence find no place with ingenuous spirits. Christ himvelfe made means to contribute to superiors for our example, having himself neither lands, nor goods. And so would we, if we had but love in us. A dead horse is no horse; no more is dead love any love. And where should we show it more, then to our Prince, in whom all causes of love concur together most commonly? Some wear their kings in their hat, some in a jewel about their neck, and we set up his picture in our eye where we eat, and drink; we praise him, and set out his virtues, and run out to see him, and bid God save him, as if we had never seen him before. We pray for him in private, and public; and he is all our glory till we come to part with any thing; and then the king knows not mê say they; I shall never have thanks of him, I have children and charge, the king had more need give me. Some say it, some think it, and we see not who looks on the whilst. Even he that judgeth both subject, and Sovereign, and will not suffer his anointed unrevenged of any indignity. But I will go forward.  
I come now to your Superfluum I spoke of. A thing that is not ill in itself, if men do not love it too much, and seek it not so eagerly as they do. I will tell you in a word what your Pastors think of it, and then conclude. The scripture bids you; 
Tobit 4.  If ye have much, give much. Abundanter tribue. If ye have little, give little, but let it be volenter, willingly. Christ saith, 
Mat. 25.  we shall be damned for not doing some things. Which all the fathers understand to be the works of mercy, both spiritual, and temporal. The spiritual are comprehended in these verses. 
Advise, reprove, good comfort give,  
Bear with him, pray for him, and forgive.  All which six, as well temporal persons, as spirituail, are bound to do; especially the second, which is brotherly correction. No man may forbear to admonish his neighbour of his offence, if ye be not more likely to do hurt by it, or be likely enough to do him good, and no body else will.  
Which rule alone I must tell you, when I well considered; it made me the bolder to adventure on this days charge, though better becoming other manner of persons than myself, if they were at hand. But being so that my hap above others hath been here to speak about such business; although I have no cause to admonish, or touch in particular any one for the enormities aforesaid; yet by the way of praemonition I give a brotherly warning to all, (as by this rule I think myself bound) that they fall not into the same. For according to this rule I find it written in another place, unicuique mandavit Deus de proximo suo, 
Eccl. 17.  every man hath charge in charity over his neighbour. That is to say, either by preventing evil before it come, as I do now; or by correcting evil if it be past, which I have no cause in any of you. And this I hold to be the chief, or only spiritual work, that all persons alike are bound unto. But as for temporal works which was the other part of my division, we are bound to more. And therefore for our better memory, they are put into verse thus. 
Feed, visit sick, redeem out of thrall,  
cloth, harbour harbourless, give burial.  All set down by our Saviour himself, but the last, 
Mat. 25.  which is burial: and all these or most of them we must do upon pain of hell fire. Ite in ignem eternum saith he, Go ye into everlasting fire. For ye visited me not, ye clothed me not, etc.  
Of spiritual works more than I have said, I say nothing; they belong to Divines and Preachers; who are the best instruments with learning, and spirit, to manage our souls. Of corporal works also I have not much to say, more than of the instrument and means for them, which is gold and silver; and which we either have, or lay for more than they, and therefore are bound to do them more than they. For there is not a corporal work except that of visiting, but requireth some charge, and outward ability. Every body cannot redeem prisoners; yea who make prisoners but rich folk. An hundred die in a year sometimes out of one prison, as many ready to starve without shirt to their back, or bread to eat. Many are ashamed to beg, or to complain and bring in their winding sheet when they come in, unable to buy necessaries, and much less to pay debts. But this is their manner of redeeming prisoners, to lay them faster if they can, or to abridge them any comfort, that a prison may afford. Let rich men and prison-keeprs take heed of this, if ever they look to prosper with that they have. For if any should perish thus through their wilfulness, it is murder before God; and if they want maintenance, they are bound by this precept to maintain them. The rich men (I say) for detaining the unable, if they think them so. Prison keepers for looking no better to their hospitals; for every jail is an hospital, as well as a prison. And if begging will not serve, they must find them bread, and drink at least, or give up their office.  
God will charge us one day, that we did not some of these things, which we were able to do, and had good means for. unicuique mandavit Deus, as I said before. And [mandavit] implies a duty. It is not as we will, but we are bound to it; as it appears by the penalty which is laid upon it. Else why should we be damned for not doing, if we were not bound to perform? I would have you to understand these matters rightly, being the main point of my this days charge, which I have, and am to deliver you. Ye have one notable error amongst you, that if ye have hundreds, or thousands lying by you, you think all is your own, that is left at the years end; and if the world do follow you a little, ye think God loves you straight, and ye begin to follow it. Then comes in hourding, and heaping, and loathness to departed with it. And this, because it is not usury, or thievery, and we come well by it; we think it all our own, when it is not. Remember that saying. Qui festinat ditari, non erit innocens, He that hasteneth to be rich, 
Prou. 28.  can hardly be innocent. For either he comes not well by it as he should, or useth it not well when he hath it, or thinks all to be his own, and forgets his Stewardship.  
We think all to be our own I say, and so it is against all men but God, and the poor. If the poor want, it is none of ours. Howbeit, such be the times, and so far be we grown from the true conceit of this duty, that we commonly make but a tush at it. They knew it better in the primitive Church, than now we do; as appeared by the voluntary contributions, and often gatherings for the afflicted, and them that wanted. They were called Collectae, and were paid most readily without long ask. But afterward as devotion grew slack, Bishops were driven to send out their warrants to compel them to charity. And in these latter times, there be temporal laws to enforce us to so needful a work. We are driven to pay by the acre, and yet it comes full hardly from us for want of true knowledge of our bond on this behalf. Which necessary knowledge, even so necessary as any can be, I would resuscitate as it were, and raise again in our souls, and spirits, that we may not perish for want of this love, and pious affection. Which God himself not counseleth but commandeth, not requireth but exacteth, not adviseth but strictly chargeth us, that it do not decay in us, but be always burning.  
Saint John saith there is no love in us, 
1. joh. 3.  if we have the substance of the world, and will see our brother want. Behold here a flat judgement against us, and yet we think ourselves secure having store by us, and will not part with it. We cân help, and will not, we have the substance of the world, and yet we will see him want. Ye have heard already, that whatsoever our profession be, we must not be ashamed of the Gospel; our Glory must be in God's holy word. We are bidden to love one another. Saint john the divine of divines saith plainly, We love not, if we have the substance, and power it not forth. And what follows then but loss of our souls. It is not I that gives the censure, but the written word gives it, and it will not be avoided. If we keep our substance to our souls, we love not, 
1. joh. 2.1.  if we love not we shall not live. And this S. john himself saith, he writes unto them, to the end they may not sin. What glory now in your superfluum? what glory in your abundance? what glory in your substance, if it be provided you to damn you?  
Let us come now to our divines, and best expositors. And see whether thêy will help us? No. They sing all one song. The word of God is eternal, soothes no man, is subject to no mutation. It was so in the beginning, and must be so to the ending. They tell us first out of the prophecy of Scripture, 
Mat. 25.  that the poor we shall have always with us. And there be reasons for it, besides authority. The first reason is natural. For the poor come nearest the nature, and fashion of the first age, when all were in equality, all clad alike, all in like business of husbandry, and bodily labour, without distinction of nobility and popularity, riches and poverty, as was most congruent to the law of nature; and so have continued from age to age to this very day, the truest pattern of our primitive estate, or golden world. And therefore we may not contemn them, 
Thucid. 2.  or think their estate shameful. For it is no shame to be poor (said Pericles) but to be idle, and do nothing whereby to live.  
An other reason is the corrupt nature of man, who strives to draw all to him, and would leave his fellows little, if he could. Like them that play at dice, where one gets all with his fortune or falsehood, and leaves the rest penniless. A third reason is moral, or political. For the poor are profitable, and were it not for them, we should do our work ourselves. Also many of these be weak, lame, blind, aged, or sickly, and cannot work. A fourth reason is supernatural. For if there were no poor, there would not be such matter of charity, or such store of it, as there is daily amongst us. And charity is one of the Theological virtues commended to us often in Scriptures, and without which we know not whether we love God or no. For it is a notable sign that we love God, when we love the poor for God.  
In which respect, not to deny the poor also their due commendation, and to acknowledge the good we receive by their means; there needs no other testimony of it, than the promised blessings belonging thereunto, out of holy writ. 
Psal. 40.  Beatus homo, Blessed is he, that looks upon the poor, and needy; God will deliver him in the evil day. God will keep him from his enemies, and will help him, at his hour of death. These be high benefits. And in another place, 
Pro. 11.  Qui dividunt propria ditiores fient. Lo here a temporal blessing also. They that distribute of their own, shall be richer by it. And in another place; he that gives to the poor, 
Prou. 28.  shall never want. Besides this, which is greatly for the glory of poverty, 
Mat. 25.  God makes himself free of their company when he names himself among little ones, saying; what ye have done to these little ones, ye have done to me. And what ye have nôt done to these little ones (whom he called needy before) ye have not done to me.  
Verily, the poor in some sort may be compared to a Merchant's ship, that is kept most part under water. And the more ye put into it at your launching, the more profit ye make at your landing. 
Psal. 112.  They are like a fat soil about a city, called in the scripture, soil and manure, the more silver ye sow in it, the thicker it comes up again. 
2. Cor. 9 Esay 48.  They that sow in blessings, shall reap in blessings. The Prophet Esay compareth poverty to a furnace of fire, because it dries up the marrow of a man with care, and thought, and scorches the very entrails of him with extremity of want: this fire also, the more meat ye hang on, or lay down before it, the better ye shall far, when ye come to sit.  
I say nothing here of the good of poor men's prayers, which God is inclined to hear in all our business. 
Psal. 21 & 101. Psal. 10.  Non sprevit, neque despexit deprecationem pauperis, God despises not the poor body's prayer. Oculi eius in pauperem respiciunt, his eyes are fastened on the poor. Yea as the poor do live by the rich, or should do; so the rich do live by the poor, or may do; that is to say, by their good prayers. For the rich give earthly food out of their abundance: and the poor give heavenly food out of God's ordinance; 
Luk 16.  who hath made them our entertainers in his kingdom (as silly as they seem here) to receive us, and welcome us to those heavenly tabernacles, when we come there. Neither do I speak what we lose by them, if we neglect them. 
Prou. 28.  For qui despicit deprecantem, sustinebit penuriam, He that despiseth him that asks of him, what is his reward? he shall come to be poor himself, he, or his in the end. Which I wish with all my heart that every good body would take heed of, before they come to make proof of. The poor we shall always have with us. And this is our first ground.  
An other ground is, that this want of theirs must be supplied out of our Superfluum. 
Luc. 11. Vers. 40. Luk. 3. ibidem.  For it is written quod superest date, Give of that which remains to you over and above your necessaries. So, qui duas habet tunicas det non habenti, If you have two coats, give to him that hath not. Et qui habet escas similiter, Do the like by your meat, give of that you have to spare. And this is not a counsel, but a precept, as may appear by S. John Baptist in the same place. Where if we do not these things, he compares us to a tree, that bears no fruit, and must therefore be cut down, and thrown into the fire. And which to prevent, he that hath two coats (saith he) let him give one. And for this cause Saint Augustine tells us plainly. 
in Psal. 47.  Res alienae possidentur cum superflua retinentur, All that we have more then enough, he saith directly is none of ours. He chargeth us in a manner with stealth, and theft, if we keep our overplus from the poor. So Saint chrysostom, and Saint Hierome interpret the words God, and Mammon. We may not serve God and goods gathering (say they) more than we need. And pretence of need will not serve. To the hourder also it was said, this night shall thy soul be taken from thee, 
Luk. 12. vers. 20.  quia sibi thesaurisavit non deo, because he heaped for himself, and not for God; that is to say, not for the poor.  
And yet in this, your pastors favour you in what they may; and do not tie you to the supply of every need, that occurs. For they distinguish of time, person, and place. In time of Scarcity, and dearth, more care is required, then when there is more plenty. For person and place, our country man must be preferred before a stranger, our kinsman before an other not of kin, our own parish before an other parish, and this by law of neighbourhood, and vicinity. And in all these, regard must be had of them that be of God's household, or household of faith, before them that be without, 
Gal. 6.  by Saint Paul's own rule. Lastly they distinguish of Superfluum, as they did before of necessaries. For as there be necessaries of nature, for keeping one alive only, with broken meat and patched clothes; and necessaries of estate, which are clothes, and dwelling convenient: so be there also superfluous of nature, when a man hath more than will suffice nature; and superfluous of estate, and person, when he hath more than he hath present need of for his estate, and person.  
A poor man for example hath meat, and torn clothes about him, but not to keep him sweet, and wholesome; here is nature served, but no conveniency. An other hath convenient clothing and abode, but wants work, or means to set up trade; here is another necessity supplied, but not the third, for he must not live idly. The first is most-what supplied at every man's door out of their Superfluum of nature. And if they cannot supply it otherwise, they must make Superfluum, and eat less, rather than a poor creature should starve at his door. The second is a great necessity also, and must be supplied out of some little Superfluum of our estate; and some have given their cloaks off their backs at such a need, and have been greatly blest for it. The third which are ordinary necessities, they hold we are not bound to supply, unless we have some store of Superfluum. So as if we have more then enough for ourselves, we are bound to supply those ordinary necessaries in thêm, whom we see, or hear do need. Idcirco te voluit abundare Deus (saith Leo) ut per te alius non egeat.  
This is the doctrine which your learned upon very good grounds do hold, and teach. And when they speak thus of Superfluum or overplus, their meaning is of that only which we possess over and above that which is needful to our most decent estate we live in. All that, they say we cannot call ours, and it must not be retained, but it must be employed in some good and pious uses, or to supply the ordinary wants of others. Neither doth this bond of ours arise they say, out of the necessity of the poor only, as in alms it doth, where the need is extreme; 
2. 2ae. q. 32. ad 5.  but out of the very nature of Superfluum, and justice distributive; whereof By this only title we become dispensers, because it is more than we need ourselves. And so much Saint Augustine insinuateth unto us, 
Tract. 50. in joh.  both by the place aforesaid; and also in another place, saying: tibi superflua, domino necessaria. As who should say because thou needest them not thyself, they are God almighty's, who hath infinite use of them in his members. Many a younger brother borne to little or nothing, would be thy champion, or beadsman, for a little of that which thou couldst spare. Many a poor gentleman decayed by loss, or misfortune, would hold up his hands day and night for thee. Some ruinated house might rise again by thee, and give thee the style of her founder, and raiser. Much evil is in the world, and many bad, courses attend good natures through only want; which a cast of thy pitiful eye might easily help to thy eternal comfort. And if any of these works be too great for us, he will not ask so much of us, but only in proportion to our abundance; and by no other title, but of our abundance.  
And it standeth greatly with natural reason, if we mark it. For as the waters of Nilus do overflow, and divide themselves once or twice a year unto all the valleys, and meadows thereabouts, to make them fruitful out of their abundance; even so it is where superfluum is, and where plenty overflows the banks of our own need, it is made for the leveling, and making up of low places; and poor men's wants either public or private, are but channels, and trenches to direct it, and lead it where it should go. And no doubt, but if God out of his Lordly power over us, should but use the ministry of an Angel about this so needful a level; his justice would fetch it out again, as fast as we hold it, that every man and woman might have enough, and yet the owner never want it.  
God did the like once, as we read in Exodus, and it had been our case right, 
Exod. 16.18  if Manna there had been money, and and not meat. For he that gathered most of that Manna, had use of no more, than he that gathered least; and he that gathered least, had as much as he. Wherein God showed us then, in a figure, what he would nôw have us to do with our money. He showed it us then indeed by miracle. But this miracle in the old law, Saint Paul would have us supply by conscience in the new law, to make this equality between rich, and poor, as I touched in the beginning. The thing which he requires of us, is this, and no more; voluntas prompta secundum id quod habet, 
2. Cor. 8.14  A ready will (saith he) according to that we have. This is the conscience he requires of us, and commands. And as it was with them that gathered Manna, He that had most, had not Superfluum, and he that had least; wanted not, Qui multumhabuit non abundavit, & qui modicum, non minoravit this is Saint Paul's own allusion: 
ibid.  even so it must be with us. Our will is the miracle must do it, to make a level between the poor, and us. Our ready will is it that must divide it. Our compassionate heart must be God's Angel here, to distribute it, before it come to rust.  
For as Saint Basill and S. Ambrose say very well; 
Ser. ad divites avaros. Ser. 81. Aquin. q. 66 art. 7.  If they that abound, were not bound, to bestow it again upon them that are needy, and poor; God were unjust in his division of things amongst us, to give some more then enough, and to some nothing, or less then enough, when all had enough in the beginning, and none had more than other, but all was common. And of this mind I verily think, there is not a covetous man in the world but would be of, if he came to taste once what poverty is; whereupon the learned argue thus: No man can say that God is unjust; therefore no man can say, that this is his own, if it be more then enough. Not that any man can take it from him perforce; for that were villainy, and theft; but that the owners are bound to dispense it, or dispose it, where there is need.  
far be it from God to be unjust. For though he give too much one way, yet he makes it even an other way; Like to a tender father, who leaves all he hath to the eldest, with charge notwithstanding, that he be a father to the rest, and that his brothers, and sisters want not: who notwithstanding, if they chance to want, and the eldest forget himself; yet the father did his part, and woe be to the elder. Even thus it fareth with every rich man. I see no difference. God gives a purse in his hand, and a precept in his heart with it, I was naked, I was hungry, I was harbourless, or friendless, and in a word, I was poor, and comfortless, and ye looked not at me. These be his younger brothers, that must not want by him. And therefore look what we swell by God's gift, we come down again by his law. How much the gift raiseth us, the law curbeth us. And many a worthy body in the world, hath been most glad to be rid of the one, that he might be eased of the other. Like honest receivers, and collectors for the king; who to quit themselves of care, and cumber, have been content to lose their fees, and to resign to others. Now what could God do more for this equality but make a law? what can Princes and policy do, but innact, and command. And if men will not observe, whose fault is it? God gives not man's Law, but conscience-Law, the greatest binder that is. And we read it every day in our poor brothers and sister's forehead, that we may not forget it. And therefore if we will not do it, at our peril be it.  
True it is, this law hath been better known to our consciences then now it is, and ye should seldom have heard of coffers, and bags full, when one was dead. And good people would have lamented, and wept over them that died so, as we are wont to do over them, that kill themselves. Hence come so many vaes from godly people against rich folk, and hourders, that scrape, and rend, and are pitiless. Hence groans, and plaints of many a pious person for there friends, and kinsfolk, that leave no better comfort behind them, than such a damnable sign. And therefore Saint James gives us warning of it aforehand. Agite nunc divites plorate ululantes; Now weep o ye rich folk, and howl in your miseries, 
jac. 5.  which ye cannot avoid. Ye heap anger against yourselves in the latter day. And he tells us the cause of this anger; which is keeping of Superfluum by us. For thus he concludes his invective. The rust of your gold, 
Ibid. v. 3.  and silver shall be witness against you, saith he. And how comes this rust, but of long lying by us? Behold here an other judgement against hourding. Ye heard an other even now out of Saint john.  
A third judgement may be deduced out of Saint Paul; where he calleth it Idolatry to be a hourder. His words are avarus, quod est idolorum servitus. 
Eph. 3.5.  And I call this word avarus in this place an hourder in english, because it is meant by hourders, and Scripture hath no proper word for hourding but avaritia. Theft which is a kind of covetousness is called furtum. usurers are properly called Fenoratores; extortioners are here called Rapaces. 
Luc. 7. 1. Co. 5.11.  Every one of these hath his proper name but hourding; which is here therefore called by the general name avarus, for want of another word. And to this interpretation S. Paul's comparison leads us very fitly, when he calls it Idolatry. For an Idol is set up and stirs not, no more does their money. An idol is commonly made of metal, so is there money of gold, and silver. The keeping and holding of it is called here Idolatry in respect of the much making of it, or hiding of it, as Rachel did, that none may come at it but themselves. It is idolatry in regard of the honour done to it, which is due to God. For though they know it is not God, nor dare adore it for God; yet they love it altogether, as they should love God; that is to say, with all their heart, with all their soul, and leave to God but a little.  
It is called idolatry also in the other sense. 
1. Reg. 5.  For when God comes in place, the idol Dagon falls to the ground. Even so when grace comes, hourding breaks her neck. Then swelling bags begin to leak, and massy heaps fall in pieces. The metal melts as the heart melts, till all be divided into portions, & go where it should go. Some such examples there be of true repenters, though very few; but many more might be, if men were not made hard like metal, with looking at metal; as the Livonians were turned to wolves, with often gazing at wolves. S. Paul makes no better of these horders, than excommunicate persons. 
1. Cor. 5. h.  For he will not have us converse with them, nor so much as eat in their company. They be rightly called, avari quasi eris avidi, or money gripers; avari quasi amari, for their bitterness toward the poor; avari quasi aversi, they turn their backs to a body, that looks poor, and thin on it. And yet because they wrong none in getting, they will not see their fault in keeping, and are in danger therefore of damning.  
Howbeit, 
Gen. 14.  there is none of these judgements, that ever touched holy Abraham, who was dives auri, et argenti. For he kept a great house, and relieved many with it. Three hundred and eighteen the Scripture speaks of, that were fight men, besides women, and children, all bred and brought up saith Josephus in his own house. 
lib. 1. ca 11 1. Par. 28.  These touched not David, who heaped such a mass of treasure for the house of God, which his son was to build, and he might not. These hardly touch Princes, or noble men of great expenses as I said before; nor Magistrates, or Prelates, who have great riches, if they be good men withal, and as ready to pour it out again, as fast as it came in, to the relief of many. Neither touch they any other, be they never so rich of God's blessings, so they be humble withal, and thinking store to be a burden, will take advise, and be governed, where they ought, and are directed.  
If a man have a years revenue lying by him, the matter is not great, and it may be fitting for him. But to have many years gatherings moulding by him, I never yet heard or read of any good man, but one; and him it never did good either dead, or alive. And that was Narses, General to Justinian for the west. He is touched with no fault but hourding. For he was otherwise a man both humble, and valiant, and no bad man to the poor. He left so much wealth in a cistern under ground, that it could not be carried out in many days after it was found. But the Emperor made a good work of it; for he gave it almost all away to the poor. And therefore I commend Belisarius much better, who was the other General for the east at the same time, and saw the bestowing of his hugeriches himself upon such as were of desert, and other pious uses, and hospitals for the poor. Our nation and country also hath been, and still is as much beholding to such benefactors as any; and their names are memorable in towns, and cities where they abide. But especially those I say, that do what they will do in their life time, and not at their death only, when they can hold it no longer themselves.  
This argument (my good friends) may seem as to you, but vain, who I know are little troubled with this kind of sin. And yet ye have good means when ye come home to rise and raise good fortunes. But the due consideration of tempting riches of the one side (which we must dearly answer for if we have them) and of pinching poverty on the other side, which but few care to comfort, or afford a good look on; doth teach us to pray thus, 
Prou. 30.  and it ought to be all our prayer. Divitias et mendicitatemne dederis mihi, sed tantum victui meo tribue necessaria. As one should say, Lord let not me be rich, nor clog me with Superfluum; neither let me be in beggar's estate, nor distract me with want, or misery, only give me necessaries, and I ask no more. If riches come, I have but an office of charge by it, and more care I must have to bestow them well, then haply they be worth. If I be poor, I cannot pray quietly for thinking of my wants. Give me a mean therefore between both (Lord) that I be not tempted to deny thee (as it is said) in the same place, ne illicear ad negandum. 
ibid. vers. 9  And it may be I shall deny thee with hourding, if I be rich; or with stealing, if I be poor.  
And thus when our Pastors teach us, we must not think they jest with us, but show us the right way we must walk to die securely. There calling is to know what is good for us better than ourselves, and what is right and equity in all things. This law of conscience I say is it, that makes all even, which neither Solon nor Lycurgus ever knew of, to imprint in men's minds. And which if they had, or that the Spirit of God had come within the element of natural understanding; Philosophers, and Orators would have urged us to this, as well as they. And yet many of them have practised the very same, in their course of life, just as ours do teach us. They contemned riches, or poured them out when they had them, content with enough and no more. Such as Crates, Anaxagoras, Zeno, Philoxenus, and all the rest almost; not one of them rich, or that sought after it. Demonax would take no care for meat or drink, but when he was hungry he went in, where he saw the next door open, & took a pittance. Your excellent Poets, Homer, Ennius, Plautus, martial, and others, who had wits to command riches; yet were they poor men, content only with inward contentment, let outward things go. And to come nearer our word, Empedocles thought nothing more Honourable, than contempt of Superfluum. The same said Chilon one of the seven wise. Possess no more than ye need said he.  
And of this opinion might seem to be the greatest worthies, almost that ever were, if they were not over ambitious. Such as Cimon of Athens, Photion, Aristides, Lamachus, Epaminondas, Fabritius, Menenius; who either refused always what was given them, or divided their massy spoils amongst there countrymen that wanted; and left not many of them so much as would bury them, but were buried at the common charge. And among these, Epaminondas aforesaid, I know not whether he were a greater Soldier, or Philosopher, but we find him a great lover of poverty; one that would neither borrow of any, nor take of gift, except it were for others need. He thought most basely of covetousness, or hourding; and said so vile a thing as it, could never take such root in us, but by ill education. He gives us also a medicine for it. The same (saith he) that is good against raging lust. Let us bar ourselves sometimes of lawful pleasure, and we shall avoid unlawful the better: even so said he of Covetousness. We must forbear lawful gain sometimes if we will not be tempted of that's unlawful. We must not be always listening after bargains; which if we be, he held it impossible to be just, and virtuous. And by this means he brought Pelopidas the Duke of Thebes, a marvelous rich man, to be a great contemner of riches, and an imbracer of poverty. Whereby he raised many worthy men, and relieved numbers that wanted, and made the common to flourish out of his superfluum, although he had children of his own.  
Such an other was Scipio the pattern of all military prudence, and honour; who had the treasure of many nations to dispose of, yet left no more when he died, than three and thirty pound weight of silver, and two of gold. Yea what left Pericles behind him, more than what his father left him, notwithstanding his forty years greatness among the Athenians? What left Cato minor? what Photion, who might have been the richest in Athens, if he would have taken what was offered him by Alexander, and others? But he would not, no not so much as for his children, or family. And I have heard the like of an English Chancellor, who out of all his offices, and superfluities that had passed his hands, he made up his hundred mark a year (which his father left him) but an hundred pound to leave to his heir. I say nothing of Plato, Plutarch, Seneca, whose works are extant, and breath out nothing but contempt of that, which we strive to rend so much one from another.  
What should I speak of the Tuberones in Rome; all gentlemen of a noble house, but decayed; yet lived most contentedly sixteen couple of them together, upon one little farm, with much poverty and pains taking, and never sought for more. No more did Marcus Regulus, or Quintus Cincinatus; the one content with poor seven acres to keep his wife and children with; the other with four; neither cared they for more; & this with good husbandry they thought sufficient. To whom I could add a friend of mine at this day, a younger brother of the best gentlemen in our country, but of small means. It would do one good to see him undergo so merrily his great charge of wife and children. He was driven to do all things almost himself. He was their Cater, Nurse, Chamberlain, Schoolmaster, and whatsoever else was to be done, he did it, either within doors, or without. His only study was, and a worthy study, to play the good husband, and keep within compass. But I return to my matter.  
Against this doctrine, which Divines are so clear in, ye will object, that there is no such bond as I speak of, for giving to the poor, because ye are not bound to bestow those things on yourselves; and therefore much less to give to others. Ye grant it is good to give, but ye are not bound. I answer, the consequence is false. For although I may be bold with myself, yet I may not be bold with another. If one own me money, I may refuse to take it, though I need it. But if I own to him, I am bound to pay. Also I may refuse to eat if I will, but I may not deny my servant to eat. Again, if myself be defamed, I need not always stir in it. But if I defame another, I must right him. And therefore that argument holds not.  
Ye object again, if that be true of Saint Austin, that we may not keep Superfluum, then also we may not get it, nor receive it: but we may receive it, therefore we may keep it. I answer. The case is like waifes, and strays, which belong to the Lord against all men, until the owner come to challenge them; and then they be none of the Lords. Even so it is with Superfluum. It is our own, and we may take it, keep it, and provide more until occasion do come to employ it, and no longer. And yet it may be also, that we are not bound to seek occasions, 
Gen. 18.  as Abraham did, who went abroad to meet strangers of purpose, and to bid them come in to eat and drink with him. Or as they of Emaus did in the Gospel, 
Luk. 24.  who compelled the traveler to go in and eat with them. And yet God so blessed them for it, that he made them worthy to talk with him face to face: the one with the blessed trinity, as some expound that place; the other with Christ glorified, as we read in Genesis, 
Gen. 18.13. Luk. 24.  and in the Gospel of Saint Luke.  
Lastly ye object, and ye will not be answered, but tell me I speak against myself, and against nature. What (say you) are we not nearest ourselves? Have we not wife and children to provide for, which God hath sent, and we must keep, and leave behind us so provided for, as may be answerable to our estate, and honour? Is it sin to gather and lay up for them, which will not be without care; and care will not do it, if we be so charitable, as to spend it as it comes in? Is it a sin to purchase, build, or amend our estates? Indeed I must confess, I spoke even now of bettering our estates, rather than abating; which cannot be well done, but out of Superfluum. For to borrow much for it, will prove diminishing instead of amending, as myself have tried to my cost ere now, when I was so wise as to leave my estate to others wits, and fortunes, while myself had more mind to higher studies. But to satisfy you further in this point, I should refer you over to your learned masters, 
1 Pet. 3.  who are parati ad satisfactionem omni petenti rationem. It belongs to us to believe, and not to dispute. I am no Divine, but only an instructed Christian, as you and all may be, that will ask, and learn.  
Howbeit, if ye will take such satisfaction as is to me satisfaction; it may please you to accept it, until a better come. There be many just occasions of spending our Superfluum besides the poor. I will give instance only of a house; which a man may want, and were no more than fitting for his estate, but he hath it not. They hold it a sin to weaken his means, and sell much land for it, as it were to make a rich coat for one that lies a dying, or is sick of a consumption. If his Superfluum will do it, he may do his mind in it. Many poor shall have work, and relief by it, and if he keep a good house after for the poor, and not a show of a house, for the world to gaze on, as some have done; his conscience will be the better satisfied, and the world in him, that God is not forgotten, but hath his part in it.  
There is no question made, but a man may purchase what he will out of Superfluum, so the laws of love be kept to his neighbour, which I spoke of before. He must not gripe him by no means, nor work upon his need, but give him the full worth. A gentleman stands in more need sometimes then a poorer man in show. And it may be a deed of charity to buy of him, if lending will not serve. And we shall never be charged with it for hourding. But I must tell you more what they hold, and it is a caveat to all purchasers. They must not put themselves upon the taint so, as to shut up doors, or abate sail for it a year or two after; but the more they purchase, the more they must spend, either in their house, upon increase of an honest retinue, or upon the poor elsewhere; five persons more for every hundred pound land purchased, were not much. If Crassus had gotten it as well, as he spent it well what he got, he had been a right good man. He kept a Legion some while together at his own charge, besides other good works of his. How much more should Christians do the like. They may purchase warily; but they must spend it liberally. They may heap, but not hoard; like, but not love too much. And the greater means one hath, the more in store for them that want.  
They be misers that purchase, and spend no more; lurchers to the common; they abuse the law of Superfluum, and the blessings of God bestowed on them. Yet how many be there of these that we could reckon; who live at the same rate now, as they did many years since, when they could not spend the tenth nor twentieth part. They keep never the more servants, set never the more on work, feed no more mouths, give no more to the poor, or contribute to the common much more than they did. And what a world should we have, if there were many rich, and every rich man should do so. Either men must perish, or seek some where else where to dwell. We may judge of a whole country by a little country town, of forty, or fifty houses, with land to them all, and one man buys them out, and dispeoples the village. What becomes of the poor the whilst, who lived there wholly upon relief, haply ten, or a dozen? No doubt he is bound to keep them, out of his increase. They must be part of his purchase, or appurtenances; yet will not spend two pence the more for it, but posts them over to the shire, if he can, to beg their bread. Would not many such towns in a country consume a country? and is it not happy that provision was made for it betimes in later Parliaments? 
Deut. 15.  Let there not be a beggar amongst you, says the Law of God. And there is a blessing annexed to it from Gods own mouth. As who should say, Divide your abundance among them, every one in his tribe, ward, or parish, that there may be no beggar, or vagrant person among you. For without this division, there will be store of them, and Statutes will not serve the turn.  
I assessed therefore every hundred pound a years increase at keeping five poor bodies, or setting them on work, besides his household. Whether I exceed or come short in this reckoning, I must refer it to your judgements, and experience. Our doctors intermeddle not so far, but leave it to men's consciences, so they make a true conscience of it. But if ye think that I grate too much upon you; 
Deut. 32.  Mementote dierum antiquorum, call to mind the ancient days, when there were not such store of poor, as now there be to bestow their superfluum on. But in am thereof, what a number of Churches, & Chapels were then built, every three mile's walk doth testify; besides Bishoprics, and houses of religion, free-schooles, hospitals, bridges, alms-houses, & other works of charity every where to be seen, with lands to most of them all. Which if it be well pondered, and how largely they powered out their superfluum in those days; the proportion I speak of, will not seem great to make up this equality. It is hard to make a rule in this business, if conscience do it not. But very probable it is, if a man spend half his revenue in housekeeping, & among the poor, and leave nothing of it at the years end, he will have little to answer for in that; and the remainder will not be much. But not to spend half that way, not a quarter, not a fift, or a tenth part, as many do not; thât they hold to be execrable in the sight of God, and intolerable in a commonwealth.  
Neither is their any sense or husbandry in it, to hord & lay up for children, which made such a flourish in the contrary argument at the first. There is no sense I say, for the portion will not grow bigger with locking up. Not good husbandry, when Scripture itself adviseth us to put it out to bankers or other lawful gain, and not to hide it or dig it into the ground; 
Mat. 25.  Opportuit te committere pecuniam meam nummularijs. And so no doubt it would be both surer to them that shall have it; and also more available to them, then if it lay cankering all the while in a corner to look one.  
But the thing I should have spoken of at the first, I may not omit to speak of last. And that is, how to know Superfluum, and when we have it. For the true deciding whereof, I think we shall need a judge. For if men be their own judges, they think they have never enough, much less too much. Witness their own complaints, if we talk with them seriously about this business, though they be never so rich. And I think they say truly in respect of their want of that they intent, and would compass; but falsely, in respect of our duty to God, and bond to the poor. Covetousness is a most vile passion, and covetous persons are never out of it. The angry body is not always angry. The spiteful body not always envious. The vicious, and gluttonous bodies are not always so. These have a time to see their faults, being as it were in a tertian, or quartan, the other allows no intermission, but is in a cotidian till he die. And being always therefore in his passion, he cannot judge rightly of himself. He knows not his own way, or work so well as an other, or as himself either, if his fit would give leave. Which yet, because it will not, he can hardly judge right, but partially without a good friend to help him.  
And this is Plutarkes' rule, not mine. That when we are doubtful, whether we do well or ill, and whether we mend or impair, 
Deira cohib.  and we cannot go out of ourselves as Painters do from their work a while, to judge the better of a fault when they come to it again: here (saith he) we had need convent ourselves before some friends, or friend, and ask their opinions what is amiss, and would be amended in us. A golden rule, and more worthy a Christian, than a heathen. And if we follow it, we could never err. Neither can any man want such a friend, if he be humble, or as curious for his soul's health, as he is for base things. But what is he that knows not his own store, and expenses; or how few there be, that far the better by him? Let him think with himself whether he would not spend less if he could with honesty. Let him call to mind, how many men's lands, and inheritances he holds, whereof every one fed many, and he feeds not one the more? Can he see this, and know this, and think he hath nor Superfluum?  
Or if he never were purchaser; yet he cannot but know how much comes in to him, more than he spends, welfare all good tokens. His bags make mention, if he have eyes to see them. He is well enough sighted, to judge of his neighbours, what every one is worth. And can he not see himself much better? He will say, such a one is but a poor man, or not the man he is taken for. Such a one is well to live, and before hand. Such a one is a near man, and hath thousands, or a thousand to spare; and yet doth not know, what himself hath to spare? His cost upon iron chests, and double doors, and locks most curious; do not all these point him to his Superfluum? his fear of robbing, his heart now and then misgiving, or his mind still running on it, with a perpetual audit in his brain; do not all these usher him daily to the mint of his treasure; and can he not yet see, or think, that he hath Superfluum? There is none so blind, but may see it if he will, though many be so self-loving, that they list not to heed it.  
And of this, my coming is to heed you, and to advise you my dear lovers, and friends, that when ye come to have more store of God's blessings, ye may make a blessing of it, and not abuse yourselves, abuse God, abuse his holy word, as all that be covetous do; who have nothing so frequent in their heart, and soul, and it is all the Scripture they practise, Noli esse justus multum, Be not over just, and, Omnia traham ad me ipsum, I will draw all to myself, 
Ecclesiastes 7.17. joh. 12.  and my fellows shall have none. As who should say all were borne beggars to make him great; all men's fortunes ordained to raise his fortunes. And it is not out of time, that I advise you thus. It may be no time fit than even now, that the world goes diminishing every day from God, and all goodness; and stands a great deal more upon will and pride, than it hath done eschewing counsel. As every man thinks it advantageable for him, so goes right and wrong with him, and he will be his own judge. Time hath been, that these cloaked, and coloured sins have not been so common, as now they are. Either people have been more single-hearted, or easier to be instructed than they be now; and had more care of the world to come, and how to get thither, then to sit devising with themselves how to make themselves great here, and let heavenly things come after at leisure. But let us leave the reason to God. Once we find his word to be true, Diminutae sunt veritates a filijs hominum, Truths are clipped and diminished from the sons of men; 
Psal. 11.  and the sons of God (if we be so) must restore them again. If we will ask, we may find. And we have the same oracles we had, the same spirit to teach us, and to set on foot again that primitive justice, if we will embrace it.  
Covetousness is a most venomous thing, contagious, and unneighbourly, fed only with self-love, a most base and unworthy love, and I have given you rules against it. Prodigality also, and Riot, are nought; and I have told you, what a sin it is to waste one's estate wilfully, and how ye may avoid it with frugality. Both sorts are very sinful. For the covetous body persuades himself, that all the Superfluum he hath, is no more but needful. The prodigal makes no more of his needful, then if it were superfluum, and so pours it out wastefully without wit. The sweet mean is between both, which there is no difficulty to practise with the help of God, and your cheerful endeavour.  
To which end, I have told you many things which a covetous ear would be loath to hear at the first, until he do deeply consider what will become of things at last. And yet if I have any thing said, more than your learned will approve; let it be as unsaid. I have laid before you but their conclusions; which if ye shall doubt of, your pious scrupulosity for better resolution, knows whether to repair. Out of my love I would have you justly informed, and as it were catechized in matters of justice, as ye are wont to be in your points of faith. For which cause, I have spent some time with you; but I desire no more credit, than what your learned will affirm. I told you there must be equality wheresoever there is good government; even between king and subject respectively, and between rich and poor. Yea, there can be no stable government, where this is not well looked into, as it hath been in the beginning of all commonwealths.  
To some belongs more, to some less, every one must have necessaries to their estate; which if they have not, they ought to be supplied. And the supply makes as just an equality, as if all had alike. If one have money, and another have wares, they are equal. If one be poor, and another supply, they are equal. If one have substance, and another desire it not, they are equal: 
Epist. 120.  it is all one to have (saith Seneca) and not to desire to have. For equality consisteth not in having alike, but not wanting alike. If wants be supplied, all is equal; if not supplied, there is a fault, that must be amended. Yea; where known want is, and no supply; some man's pinching will smart for it in the world to come; and none have cause to fear it so much, as they that have Superfluum. No law to pull it from them, but the law of conscience as I said, which to observe is to make all even; and nôt to observe, is to provoke God's displeasure, who is Lord of all; and no more is to be done in it, than heathens can in the business.  
And therefore I have gone with you by degrees, to rectify your consciences; as how ye should love yourself, and how your neighbour. Your soul first, his next. Your own life first, his next; unless he be a public person, or very necessary to the commonweal. Your goods, and fortunes likewise, how to be used frugally, yet charitably, without hurting yourselves, or your souls. I might have said how bountiful also for gifts, and benefits to followers, and favourites, according to their deserts, and your abilities; else it will soon be sin, and sink men's estates with overmuch good nature, ere they be aware. And this is more to be pitied, than any thing; besides the offence to Godward. Likewise how ye may purchase, and what conditions for buying and selling without wrong, or exaction. 
1 Thes. 4.  Saint Paul's rule is the best; nequis supergrediatur, neque superueniat in negotio fratrem, Let no man overreach or cirumvent his brother in any business. Of your charity remember it. I might have said the like of lending; which is as good a deed, and a man is as much bound to do, as to give, if it be with assurance. jucundus homo qui miseretur, & commodat. Holy David saith it made him merry to lend, 
Psal. 111.  and yet he had no interest for it. I might have said somewhat also of setting, and letting, where men be of opinion, that they may do what they will. But they may not. You must not rack it to the most, and stand to no hazard. It ought not to trouble a man, if his tenant have a pennyworth for his money, or for favour. The Lacedæmonians never raised Rents, yet lived most happily. It is good for you to follow some worthy bodies, and to do as they do, that are known to be of the best conscience.  
I have not omitted to say somewhat of our duty to the common, and of the greatness of this bond, and of the cheerfulness and alacrity we ought to entertain it with, sorry that our hand is not in every public work, though no body saw it, but only God. To the king especially; who as he is great by law, so should he be greater in our love, and have part with us in all, but in grudge and contradiction. So far be it from us to magnify him in words, and minnifie him in works, as they do to Conquerors and Tyrants. And lastly I come to your Superfluum, whereof I have shown you some deformities, and what a monster it would prove in a commonwealth, if laws did not reprove it somewhat, and conscience more. And yet I have been brief upon the point; the matter requiring more persuasion, than instruction, more eloquence, than arguments, and more grace in the hearer, than tongue in the teacher. For why?  
Goods if they be good, they have wrong to be kept in. Omne bonum est sui communicabile, The nature of good is to do good, and to impart itself to others, if man do not hinder it. The sprouting springs are not content with their own fullness, and to serve the neighbourhood with pails full and tankardsfull, but send the rest immediately to poor Miller's, and Fishermen, and make rivers navigable for the use of man. The liver not content to feed itself with blood, packs away the overplus all the body over, even to fingers, and toes, as far as it can go. Yea, gold and silver not satisfied with their own riches, and brightness; nor precious gems with their lustre, and virtue, where they lie in sea coasts, or desert mountains; but offer themselves to man's industry, whosoever will fetch them. 
Leo. Afer.  Gaoga and Tambuco furnish Africa with millions. Mexico and Peru replenish Europe and Spain; and the East Indies relieve Asia with richest stone, and metal. It is against nature to keep good things in. Yet we, by corrupt usage smother up all in corners, that none may be better for them. If one may do it, all may do it. And what if all should do the like? what if all were hourders? should we not think them Caterpillars?  
Say it were not money we hourded, but that we bought up all the beeves and muttons in markets, all the corn, and grain that comes there; and all other commodities that come in for man's provision: would not towns and countries cry out on us? and is it not all one, to hoard up every man's provision, and to hoard up that which men should buy it with? If all should hoard up corn as one did, a countryman of ours, who sold no corn but in dear years; should they not be murderers to the multitude, and quellers to their ownesoules? The man was rich, and had always three years corn in barns, and stacks before hand. His farm was his own, rich ground all of it. The fourth year, upon a Whitsune-eve, he walked up a hill, and saw the country full of goodly corn, and came home to the good woman his wife, and told her he was undone. Why so said she. It is likely to be a plentiful year again said he. Marry thanks be to God said she, many such years God send us. But he went into his barn, and hung himself, and so had died if chance had not been. The hourder doth enough for his part, that no man should have either money, or wares. Dionysius the Tyrant of Syracuse, taught a citizen how to employ his money better than so. For hearing of much treasure he had hidden in the ground, he sent unto him to bring it him; which he did. But he brought not out all. And that which he left, he bestowed presently upon house and land in the country. Which when the Tyrant also heard of, he sent for him, and gave him his money again, saying to him: since thou knowest how to use money, take thy money again, which is made to use, and not to lie by one; and so dismissed him. Glad was he that he learned so good cheap. But woe be to the country that knows not how to use riches, until a Tyrant teach it them.  
True riches is to have store of necessaries, wherewith to feed many, not store of Superfluum, that no body may touch. Gold and silver will not feed as they lie, nor costly furniture with gazing on. It will be long before any of these will give us a breakfast, though never so goodly to behold. And therefore it was thought but rude and childish in Telemachus: 
Odisses. 2. Plut. Mor.  who when he came unto Nestor's house, and saw it stored with wine, meat, provision, and entertainment for all comers, and how shold-stuffe in great plenty; he never commended him for the store of all necessaries. But when he came to Menelaus his house, where was plenty of superfluous things: the rome's bright with copper, gold, and alchumy; and pillars of great magnificence: he was ready to adore, saying: 

Talem intus jupiter (nisi fallor) olympius aulam  
Possidet; attonitum sic me veneratio tentat.   

Ioues Bower I think can show no more;  
So am I tempted to adore.   As if pomp were more necessary than life; or Superfluity more commendable in a few, then enough for all.   

❧ The Conclusion.  
NOw let me not hold you over long. As I professed in the beginning, to say nothing of open sins, but of these close, and cloaked sins, which are sins notwithstanding, and full of injustice: so have I said no more than nature teacheth us, as well as law divine; what a monster cupidity is, and how grossly it misleads us, and how contrary to it own self, more than other Cupidities are. I began with Plutarch a heathen wise man, 
In his Morals.  and I will end with him. He tells us plainly that no Cupidity so fighteth with itself as this of riches doth. All other desires, are more for using then possessing. This contrary more for possessing, then using. We desire not meat, to abstain from it, we desire not wine to forbear it, we desire not warm clothes to lay them up: but when we have eaten we are satisfied, when we have drunk we have enough, when our gown is on, it is cumber to put on more; and if we have our pleasure at any time, we have done with it soon. Only riches when we have them, our thirst is not alaide; we still desire more. The more we have the more we covet, Semper avarus eget; new rents, and new come in assuage not our appetite while we live; but the medicine increases the disease. To this we may add. What hinders us more in our journey to heaven, than this untoward Cupidity? what stops us to do justly with our neighbour, friend, or brother, but Cupidity? what makes us grate upon him, and draw what we can from him, but this? what blinds us so that we see not our debt to the poor, but this? for so the Scripture calls it debitum, 
Eccl. 1.4.  a debt, Declina pauperi aurem tuam, et redde debitum tuum, render thy debt to the poor. Who can abide to hear this? ye will say they be lewd folk now a days, and unthankful, and it is no charity to give them. How then? I talk not of giving them, I speak of debt. It is our abundance as I said before, and not their goodness, that makes it theirs. If they be bad, they must live to amend, 
Mat. 5.  God sends rain upon the just, and unjust; and our debts we must pay both to good, and bad; whereof this debt is one to the poor, howsoever cupidity blinds us, and casts a vail over our eyes, that we cannot see it. Poet's feign Cupid blind: even so is Cupidity. It covereth our understanding, turneth reason awry, it strengtheneth passion weakeneth judgement, raiseth pride puts down pity, fireth envy cooleth charity, preacheth parsimony hateth hospitality, is open handed to take close fisted to give, no, not to himself; robs the king of that is his, the subject of his, the common of theirs, nor willingly gives any body their own. We may call it in a sort a sin against nature, that beareth such a sting against itself, and own honour. O think not less of it because it is less seen. The more hidden a sin is, the more dangerous. I have discovered unto you many a sinful practice to day, which it may be ye have not heard of. Contemn them not I beseech you. For such as these will damn a man, when evil custom bids him be secure. 
2. Reg. 24.  That sin of David in numbering of his men, how soon would he have seen it, if the Prophet as it is thought had not told it him first? and yet this ignorance escaped not punishmennt, his kingdom was plagued for it; seventy thousand lost their lives at a clap. And how would Saul have acknowledged his sin, 
1. Reg. 15.  in saving the best things of Amaleck to serve God with as he thought, if Samuel had not stepped in with due reprehension? and yet pretence of reason was no bar to God's judgement, that fell out heavy upon him. Long before that, God's servant Moses, 
Num. 20.  how had he known his offence of connivence with the people's contradiction, if God had not admonished him presently before it grew greater? 
Gen. 38.  Or the Patriarch Judas his injustice to Thamar, until she had shown him his Ring, 
3. Reg. 13.  and staff, and then he said, justior me est, The harlot was juster than he. Long after this, the man of God, who was sent to overthrow the altar of Jeroboam, and foresaw the things that happened three hundred years after, yet knew he not the thing that was present, which was his own sin of light belief; until knowledge came to him accompanied with punishment, whereof a Lion was both messenger, and executioner. It is no rare thing amongst sinners, not to see their fault, until they be told of it. Saint Bernard complaineth of himself, that he hath set up a vice for a virtue sometimes. Now what think ye I pray you of all these, and what of yourselves? are ye stronger and better sighted than they? might ye not be deceived all this while in your courses, as well as they? and if we have a plague or plagues in our country, may it not be for some of these hidden sins, though there were no other? And may not the good be punished for the bad, as they were in josuaes' days, for the sin of only Achan? yea, 
Ios. 7. Amos 8.  may it not be for these enormities alone, that God does threaten to set the earth in an uproar, and to make the dwellers thereof to wring their hands, for using the poor so hardly, for buying them out with silver, and making use of their need? How much better is it therefore for us to take warning by these, and to furnish ourselves in time with sufficient knowledge, especially where ignorance will no way excuse. Omnis via virirecta sibi. The Spirit of God foretells us as it now proves, that every one thinks he is in the right, when he is not, nor is like to be, 
Prou. 21.  where he is his own judge, and partiality holds plea. I told you Plutarkes rule; we must summon ourselves before our friend, or friends in doubtful business, and Scriptures accord with it. Vae soli, Woe be to one alone. 
Eccl. siastes 4.  For if his wit and self conceit once give him a fall, who can raise him again? We live in miserable blindness here in the world. For while we be in sin, 
Prou. 21.4.  we have no other light but sin. Lucerna impiorum peccatum, We have no other torchlight to go before us, but ill custom; a dark dazzling light, and therefore have need of one to lead us by the hand. Coecus amor, our love blinds us. Coeca libido, 
Sap. 4.  our daily like, and holding affections blind us. Concupiscentia transuertit sensum sine malitia, saith Sapiens, We are so used to our appetites and injustices, and make them so bold and wanton with us every day, that we sin, and think not of it. And therefore woe be to a man alone without a guide, or admonisher. It is not good for a man to be alone saith God himself. Faciamus ei adiutorium, 
Gen. 2. jer. 10.  Let us make him a help. For, Viri non est ut dirigat gressus suos, saith holy Jeremy, It belongeth not to a man to govern himself. And therefore let us make him a help. And what help? Not an angel, not a God to converse with him; but simile sibi, Such an other as himself; a sinner like himself, a frail man like himself, a man. It is for our humility, that God will have man to comfort man, none but man to counsel man, and will not have us look for illustrations from heaven in every doubt, as they did in old time, when all was darkness, and very few to govern us. God shines upon diverse diversly. And his grace hath put more wisdom and grace into one, then into another, to furnish them that lack. The Scripture calls them, Sensatos. Cum videris sensatum, evigila ad eum, When ye shall shall find an understanding man, 
Eccl. 6.  or a learned man, give ear to him. Wear down his thresholds with often coming, and listen to him, as it is written in the same place, Gradus ostiorum eius exterat pes tuus, 
ibid.  saith he. And King David tells us in another place, where he speaks to God, saying: 
Psal. 98.  Tu parasti directiones; That God provided directions for every one that will ask. Yea more than this, if we ask not, it is a sign (I think) that God is angry with us. For so he speaks of a sinner, that Secundum multitudinem irae suae non quaeret, It is according to the greatness of God's anger, 
Psal. 9.25.  that a sinner will not seek, or ask. And therefore why do men ask no oftener than they do, or follow them no better? or why do they not wear down their thresholds with coming, and going, as they are bidden? And I speak not this to hourders only, but to young men, and spenders also; who daily undo themselves for want of directions. I never knew any man waste himself, that was ruled by such. And of all the unthrifts that ever I heard of, I never knew any, that was ruled by such. They will be ruled by cheaters, & those that prey upon them, but not by such. They will listen to them that humour them, but not to them that pity them, and wish them all true wealth. Both sorts need counsel, I know not which more. Whether he that will waste all with over lashing; or he that ruins many with over-keeping. You stand yet indifferent between both. But which way soever you incline; be never your own judges, but listen. Be fearful always to endamage any man, and at such times especially I wish you to be advised most, when ye have most advantage, or are likely to gain most. There be that persuade you to contempt of the world; I entreat you only that it contemn not you, when it hath tumbled you into the lake. To them it belongs, to show you the fickleness, and deceit of it; I do but wish you to imprint it in your mind. Your preachers tell you, how and what ye must hoard; 
Mat. 6.  thesaurizate vobis thesauros in coelis, Heap treasure in heaven; I do but admonish you of your sin against nature, and the abuse of your good means, which God hath lent you. Thêy tell you how hardly things are gotten, how soon lost, and how little they deserve of us, for all our much making, and will not so much as accompany us to our grave: I say no more than what Leonidas told you, when Xerxes wrote unto him to come on his side, and he would make him much greater than ever he was. But he wrote unto him again. If thou knewst o Xerxes what the goods of this life are, and how little to be esteemed, thou wouldst not seek as thou dost for others mens. This ye will think was well said of a king, a soldier, a heathen. We should know better than he, what these things are. What be they better the best of them, than a penny in a pail of water, seem great, and are not; fire in ones bosom, burn more than warm; a wag, or wanton much cockered and loved, and loves not again? when we die, they are as readily another man's as ours, who took all the care to get them together. Let us learn of a heathen for very shame, if not for charity, nor love of Christ, to esteem as little of these outward things, as they do of us. That is to say, to make use of them, and no more; or at the least, not to prise them so, as to lie cankering by us long. If ye like to go light, and free from burden, heap not burden upon burden; which if ye do, ye will hardly keep even, but one sin or other will overtake you, and give you a fall. Qui pauca requirunt, non multis exidunt, saith our Philosopher, They that seek little, offend little; therefore they that seek much, offend much; and what they get ill, will prove ill, do what they can. What will it avail a man to cirumvent his poor brother, and to get by him (as they say) by right or wrong? I have told you, it is wrong, if he get it so; and it must be repaired ere ye die. If learned men be learned, and have not bestowed all their time in vain; if God have promised them his spirit to direct you; if they be not very ciphers, and dumb shows only; 
Eph. 4.  and furthermore, if God hath given them our souls in charge, for their knowledge and grace; and we as much bound to hear them, as the jews were to hear theirs in the old law; 
Ose 4. jer. 17.  who held it the greatest sin that was, to disobey them in any thing: and lastly, if we be not very Atheists, and enemies to all religion; thêy be the men we ought to believe in the cases aforesaid, where wrong, or injustice may in any sort be doubted. The very attempt and through of wrong, is wrongful, much more the accomplishing. And believe me they will none of them prove as they promise, but deceive us most pitifully in the end. I have known & seen it in many. If God love them, he will never let them thrive with it long; but either they shall lose it quite, that they get so, or shall have more unquietness, and trouble with it, than it is worth. If God love us not; we may thrive with it jollily for a time, and some of our posterity after us for our greater plague. God gives the wicked also their desires, but it is in anger, not in mercy saith Saint Austin. And then, what are we better for Sunshine, if he that made the Sun frown on us. We savour not now adays of the ancient piety, and Christian feeling that hath been. Men and women have thought it burdensome to their consciences, to keep any thing wrongfully. It lay heavily on their stomachs like raw flesh, when they had done amiss. And if they were of any resolution to Godward, they would not touch, nor come near that was none of their own. Whereof we have a noble example of Constantine, who forbade the tribute of Courtesans to defile his coffers, as they were wont. And our Christian Tiberius whom I named before, would none of Narses his massy treasure. He knew not how it was got, that was so evilly kept. And the same Prince before he came to be Emperor, being made Master of the Palace, and declared successor to justinus; whose wife Sophia that covetous Empress had gotten together ill-favouredly great heaps of treasure: this worthy man when he found it, he poured it all out, and sent it packing to the poor. Whereat when the old Empress was angry, and asked him what he meant to be so lavish of that she got together with such labour, and anxious care for her husband; o said he, the Exchequer I hope shall never need such ill gotten goods. And his words proved true. For there was never Prince so rich and fortunate in all things, that ever I read of, as he was afterward for the time he reigned, which was seven years. And who more infortunate than Brennus the french Duke after he had spoiled Temples, and rob Churches of their treasure, saying; the gods had need give us, and not we give them. And was there any in the world, more unhappy than Caepio Servilius, and his partners, after the spoil of the Temple of Tholousa, where they had infinite treasure, enough to have made them all for ever? but as Livy noteth, none of them all prospered, but miserably died. Caepio himself, was overthrown by the Cimbrians, was turned out of his Consulship, as never was any before him; his goods confiscate, was tumbled headlong down the stairs, and died in irons, having been happy enough before, and triumphed over the Cilicians. But this is the judgement of him that searcheth all things, and winks at them still that do naughtily, until he sees his time, to come upon them with vengeance. And what hath a man gotten when he hath rend and scraped together what he can? many a cap and knee it may be, for his fortune; for it was but his fortune. Many a secret curse that he dies not yet; for they have no hope of him to do much good, while he liveth: many a nod he gets beside at his manner of rising. For such a one is undone by him saith one, and yet he was no interest man. He hath much to answer for saith another, and yet he never took forfeiture, or sold to days. He hath been hard to the common saith one; yet he would hoist up his fellows says another. The king is the worse for such as he, saith one; but it is more than the king knows, saith another. Thus they play upon the poor penny-father. But he shall not want some also, that will praise him, and commend him, to be a very kind man to his friend; so it cost him nothing, saith another. One commends him for a good justicer; he will not come in danger of law, saith another. I have seen him give well to the poor, saith one; so it be well seen, saith another. He is very wise saith one; to have and hold, saith another. He was continent of his body, saith one; he saved by that, saith another. So every virtue of his hath a sponge with it, and every vice a pencil. Few think well of him hearty, no not they that feign would. And when he comes to die, what laughing tears follow, and blacks of joy, not of mourning. And here gins his woeful pageant. If all his gold were in his carcase, he would have as many hounds about him, as a dead horse, or as there be torments about his beggarly soul. His conscience torments him, and wounds him, that ever he was so carking for that he should never have with him. His memory tortures him, to think of his cares, and what a slave he was to them, and is not the better of a pin for them now, but the worse. His fear affrights him, that they that have all, will be deceived with it, as he was. He fears his wife will come to him shortly, or his child, or some body else whom he loved; and this torments him extremely. The devils flout him instead of comforting him; and those whom he wronged, have never done accusing him to his thinking. His wits confound him, and rend his heart in pieces with cruel distractions. His throat hoarse with crying, skrieking, and hellish groans. He would feign get out by him that came in last, but impossible. All his fellows so grifly and gashfull, that it is a hell alone to see them. If a man were amongst Turks, or Cannibals, he might haply find some face of gentler aspect, than other, to ease his heart, and make his moan unto; there not so, all insociable villains. No friend, or old acquaintance there to befriend him. No not brother, or sister, but to take him by the throat, and spit fire in his face. It boots him not to lie still, he is so full of pain. It helps him not to stir, for being made to lie still. No kind of hope hath access, but is barred, and double barred from him. It were some comfort unto him, if he could not think at all. All thoughts are lashes to him with an iron whip. See how the poor wretch is changed. To think of gold, is to think of a toad. To think of them that have it, and care little for him, it wrings him to the guts. To remember the pleasures he had in walking over his grounds, makes him as melancholy as a mad man. To think of heaven lost for a trifle, so like an Ass as he was, he knows his flesh from his bones. Alas, how short I come of his dreadful estate with my slender imagination? But surely when such a soul reflects upon such a misery, he frets and grieves, and wrings his hands so piteously, that a heart of brass would melt to behold it. But all in vain. He would feign imagine it a dream, but that is idle. He wishes he were in some dungeon full of ordure, in a stinking prison full of irons, in a shipwreck at sea, in the bottom of a deep well, or in an oven full of flames; yet all this in vain. Wishes do no more but torment more. He curses God to his face, he curses his parents, and progenitors; he curses all flatterers, and them that soothed him up; he curses himself most damnably, that had but one sin, or evil disposition to take heed of, and set so light by it. He finds it now, that he saw and would not see, knew and would not know, he might have asked, and would not stoop for it, because he liked his own ways. Poor wretch, forlorn, miserable, and forsaken wretch. If he were in life again, what would he do? he could tell how to use the matter, better than he did. Which I pray God, we may learn to do by his woeful example, if we saw him. It is not land, or money, or goodly things, or fair glozes, that would damn him again, if he were alive again. He was not so gripping, as he would now be giving. He was not so upon advantage, as he would now give advantage. He was not so ready to rend from a man the one half, as now to render fourfold; not so sparing then towards common good, as now more for the common, than for his private; not so proud then of his fortunes, as now humble & affable; not so large then, as now scrupulous; not so averted then from the poor, as now compassionate and tender over the poor, and rather delighting in them. This day let all men assure themselves, will one day come, and will not be long, but they shall see how foolish they were for all their seeming wit; how little for all their greatness; how poor, and ragged for all their hourding, & scraping together; how full of lip-labour all their prayers, & how course their conceits in heavenly affairs. More shall they see under a silly winding sheet, then under a Canopy of gold; more in the dumps of their everlasting melancholy, then here in the height of their jollity. But all to late after final impenitence. O that any tears of ours, or sobs of endless lamentation might give them ease, but they will not. I speak no more of them; my heart doth bleed, that any of these woes should fall upon any one. But it hath been, and will be. Yet thanks be to God, and truly let us rejoice, and clap our hands, all we that are yet living, and are not as yet in that doleful pit. There is no wrong but we may yet right. And it may be, there is yet no wrong but we may prevent. Let us be wise betimes, and learn by other men's harms. We especially that profess ourselves of God's household; and let us accustom ourselves to be scrupulous, and to do nothing without counsel. It will trouble us much to restore again, when we have wronged. We find by experience they will be damned first (as wise as they are) before they will hear of it. To think all ours, that we force from a body by law, or might, it is folly. To do otherwise then we will be done to, is little honour, or honesty. To soothe ourselves with ill custom, where nothing warrants, but ill custom, is to cousin ourselves, and make sport for the devil. Now let us cast up our eyes to heaven, if we be not castaways, and desperate. Let not a little money damn us, or hope of gain gainsay us, when we knock at heaven gate. Nay why should we hazard our best part so, or put our heavenly portion in adventure for it. What reason have we to lose a certainty there, for an uncertenty here? Why should we lose a thousand poundessure our own, for an hundred halfpennies not sure our own, or how long we shall have it? away with it. Let it not taint our chests, and canker our souls. Put it not together with that is well gotten. In stead of giving, or lending where need is, let us not take another man's without need, and which no need should compel us unto. He that hath least, hath enough of that little to answer for, though he heap not on himself more, by wresting from others. If ye will be patiented, and mild, and void of all passion; if ye will free yourselves from envy, and anger, which I told you in the beginning is so necessary for us; and lastly, if ye will go light to heaven when ye die, and will be always ready for it when God shall call; away with your clog of cupidity: let it approach your heart no more; but be indifferent to all things, whether ye have them or no, and assure yourselves ye shall gain in the end by it. Magnus questus pietas, cum sufficientia, Better a little with content, 
1. Tim. 6.  than a great deal to trouble our brains withal at our last gasp: a little with true honesty, than a great deal with profane cupidity. Will rich men and ambitious bodies give credence to S. Paul, who tells them wherein true gain consisteth, and how they shall get it? Religion, piety, and fear of God; these make profit saith he, and gain us great matters. Let these be the plain song to all our descant, these the commanders of all our business. O that we had the faith of Tobias. 
Tob. 4.  We lead saith he a poor life. Yet what was his comfort? We shall have many good things (said he) if we fear God. Where is our faith now, is it asseepe? See how Saints agree. Magnus questus saith one; Multa bona saith an other. We shall have many good things without hurting, or wronging any. O that we could look out of Saint Paul's eye, when he called it, Magnus questus. What were the riches he saw, when he said it? what purple robes? yea, they exceeded all purple. What gold, and silver? no treasure comparable. What pearl or precious thing? no pearl or jewel comes near it. What saw he then? what enamoured his eagle's eye? what filled up his heart so, that he left no corner in it for world's glory, or mony-bagges? What content took Tobias, who had wife and children to provide for, and many children's children? yet none of these base things could fasten on him. His Multa bona, were in heaven; not unum bonum on earth. His thoughts were high reachers, as lowly as he was: a little was enough here. What a world-skorning word is that of Saint Paul, Cum sufficientia? What he meant by it, he explains himself in an other place; Habentes alimenta, 
1. Tim. 6.  & unde tegamur, his contenti simus, If we have enough to feed us competently, and to cover us conveniently to our estates we live in, (for so is his meaning) what seek we more? why climb we higher? what necessity to make ourselves great? what need lace upon lace, silk upon silk, dishes after dishes, and a thousand curiosities more than mere decency? Saint Paul loved it not, nor would have us to love it. For he speaks not this to priests, and religious only (saith Saint chrysostom) but in general to all that live in the world. 
lib. 3. cont. Vitrup.  Now how will your Superfluum, and this sufficiency agree? how will those lime twigs comply with your wings, when ye shall come to use them? But I will conclude with a judgement, or a ruled case; ruled by God himself in Saint Luke's Gospel. 
Luk. 18.  Quam difficile qui pecunius habent in regnum dei intrabunt? How hardly shall they enter the kingdom of God, that have store of money? for he saith not pecuniam, but pecunias; not money which we cannot be without, but moneys, or store of money, which keeps us out. This is it, that makes it hard, or impossible. It is ourselves that make it hard. Heaven is hard enough of itself to come by, yet we forsooth must make it harder. Our unfortunate coveting hath given us such a law, that it is almost impossible to come there. Half our wits are employed in this world, to make all things else easy. Our shoe must be easy for pinching us, our saddle easy, our horse easy, our garment, our armour easy, that we may bestir us; our stair easy to get up. Arts, and sciences also we make easy with compendiums, the study of the law with abridgement. If we be to run, we throw off, we lay not on more. Only in our way to heaven still, where we should go lightest of all, we clog on most of all, and for want of a Camel's bunch on our back, we tie us on one, as like it as we can, that we may pass through the straits with more difficulty. Naked we were borne into the world, that we may run the lighter; yet we heap impediments upon us, to make us heavier. Hearken you that be rich, and delight so in gathering. Listen to your judgement. Quia dives erat, 
ibidem.  Because he had much, and store of Superfluum by him, and employed it not; therefore it was impossible that he should be saved. Now who would hoard after this? or who would not be afraid of it? This is the gnawing worm of our souls, the bane of all good works; the dam of deadly omissions, the very devil in a hutch. Is there any man here that would be rich with these conditions? Let not the rich man tell us, that he is not rich. Let him tell God so. Let him not tell me, that he keeps it for good purposes, this or that, or what it will be. Let him tell God, and his friend so, and deceive not himself. Evil keeping is almost as dangerous, as evil getting; and if ye halt with God in your pretences, look for no better than fire and brimstrone. I speak my dear friends to them that be rich, and holding; and not to you, but by the way of prevention; and to drive into your souls this holy fear before hand, which I see but very few have. Show your grace and courage in withstanding this evil. I love you all dearly, and I have done you the uttermost of my love. Myself ye see am decaying, and growing out of the world. Yôu have a long time to live yet, and to give good example. After a few days haply, we shall never see one another more. Yet if we may meet in Heaven, that only is my desire, and my heart is inflamed with it.  
FINIS.    


THE FIRST HOMAGE OF A SOUL TRVELY CONVERTED, WITH SIGNS THEREOF.  
LOrd it grieved thee (no doubt) to see our sinful estate; and not so much our acts of sin, as our miserable corrupted will, from whence they came. This drew thee from thy heavenly throne, to an earthly habitacle, not only to pay our debts, but also for our example, and imitation of life. But woe be unto us; we endeavour night and day to shame thee our loving master if we could, by doing, and willing the clean contrary. By how much the more, I unworthy wretch of all others am bound to thy greatness; for that yet at length, before all hope be passed with me, thou hast given me in part to know myself. That is to say, where I was, and whether thou hast now led me, and out of what darkness. I see it now, thyself mercifully showing it unto me. Heretofore I have not seen; my own will blinding me. Blessed Lord, since my conversion unto the, I know my fault, and see the cause of it. I have thought myself converted unto thee, before I was indeed.  
True conversion is to turn to thee, and from sin, and the same so to detest, as to desire any thing to suffer, then to commit again. Secondly to have a watchful eye over our temptations, and evil motions. Thirdly to call to thee effectually for grace, and strength. And four in that strength not to doubt, but to resist them manfully as fast as they come. We practise commonly the contrary, and give the bucklers to our enemies, as thinking ourselves too weak for so many assaults; and so we be without thee. But in thee and in a perfect resolution to serve thee, and to renounce sin; my Lord I find mine enemies every day weaker, and weaker, not in my own strength, but thine in me.  
I know thou canst not abide a coward, or that casteth difficulties in thy service; but if our hearty endeavours be with thee, thou suppliest with strength, and never sufferest us to take the foil. Blessed Lord, thou hast let me see now, what hindered my sight before my conversion; even that which blindeth others, yea, multitudes, that are not yet converted unto thee. That is to say, things seeming good and fair, that tended to perdition. And being no more gracious than others, I have used my self-love to command, and self-will to judge so long, that I could not take their mastery from them without much rebellion; and have been therefore contented to think thât good or ill, that my humour said was good or ill. And this by ill custom hath made a law in me so far forth, that I have not only thought as they informed me, but also I have verily believed whatsoever they suggested.  
Which notwithstanding, it hath pleased thy goodness, to show me their tyranny very palpably. And that first in others, whom I have seen in wretched bondage unto them, and to their own appetites. Not but that myself was in the like, or greater; but because we spy a fault sooner in another, then in ourselves, and they were a glass to see myself in, how monstrously I have blinded that light of reason ere now which thou hast given me, and I had almost lost, and became like a beast; until thy grace restored me, when it was a thousand to one against me.  
My reason instructeth me, that no creature well ordered is governed by itself. The soul much less, among so many hidden enemies; since in heaven where is no enemy, no soul is guided by itself. My reason telleth me, that none is overthrown but by self-rule. And we confess it in reater crimes, wilful murder, incests, robbery, & the like; because they be more notably punished in sight. In less we cannot see it so well, because they are more qualified & mingled by the devil, & ill custom, that they may poison the more cunningly.  
My reason, & experience teach me, that the devil hath nothing to work upon, but our will, & is a most subtle persuader. And therefore if I have no more will, or wit, but my own, it is impossible to stand against him. And very likely it is I am not as I should be, when I do nothing all the day long, but my own will, nor am angry or melancholy at any thing, but my own will crossed some way or other; which perhaps was thy sending, and then I should be glad.  
My reason instructed with reading, and hearing, hath taught me, that I cannot have heaven here, and in the world to come. And yet my shunning at griefs, and crosses, and again my labouring, and laying for temporal emoluments, tell me to my face, that I have sought nothing but my heaven here, howsoever I have looked upward in my prayers towards thee for a fashion.  
My reason, and grace, how little soever it be, dareth not deny but thou art truth. And thou hast said, The way to heaven is narrow, and few do find it. And yet my life and actions do make it seem broad. 
Mat. 7.14.  Rather I am to suspect that I am out of the way, by the broadness of it: and am in my reason to doubt, and ask, that I may be set in my right way, and not to rest until I be in it. And it is hard to find. First, because I never went it. Secondly, because I use not to ask it. I ask not, because commonly I think not of it, having found by the way goodly meadows, and fine earthly things, or at the least the desires of them; that have holden me distracted, and busied one way or other, until I want day almost to go any further.  
Moreover I cannot but listen, and believe them, that have trodden this path before me. The practice and authority of thy known Saints, that (being sometimes as I was when I doubted so little of myself, and as every one is at this hour, that is not yet converted) confess how maliciously, they were over borne by their own will, even to perdition; and yet saw it not, no more than I did then; followed their own like as I did then; thought they did enough as I thought then, counted others over scrupulous as I did then, if they had much care of their conscience; and all this thy Saints have found as soon as they cast off the yoke of their own wills, and had given their names to thy holy service.  
From which time being afterward thy special servants, and I hearing, and reading their true opinions, what they thought of themselves, when they were as I was, and thought myself so sure: good God, what reason had I to think myself safe, and not rather to ask the way of some skilful body, and forswear this closeness to myself as long as I lived. Thy noble Doctor Saint Augustine showeth me, that when I thought or persuaded myself that I went forward daily under the sails of my own will, I went just backward. For so saith this Doctor he did, and yet thought verily that he went forward.  
I trusted (saith he) sometimes in my own power, 
Mcd.  and when I meant so to run, where I thought I should stand most, even there I fell most, and was cast behind hand, and not forward; and that which I thought verily to catch, went further and further from me. But now I know thou hast illuminated me. Because what I thought I could most, that could I always least of myself. I had a will, but I wanted ability; I had ability, but I wanted will; because I trusted in my own strength. But now I confess unto thee my Lord God, father of heaven and earth, that a man shall not grow strong in his own strength; nor foolish presumption of any flesh vaunt itself before thee. And in another place, he saith: I thought I was somewhat, and I was nothing; I said I would become wise, and I became a fool; I thought I was wise, and I was deceived. Thus far and much more to that effect hath this Doctor.  
How much more than may wê say it, that live abroad, and have to do with the world? where every thing distracteth us from thee, every toy dulleth us, delights darken, cares oppress, and much business confounds our understanding, and disableth it wholly of itself, to judge what is best for us without a Doctor.  
And yet I cannot deny (my Lord) but true it is that shamefully and blasphemously we bear ourselves in hand that we are ruled by thee, when yet we have nothing else in us but a bundle of concupiscences, and desires, that tend not to thee, but daily pull from thee. As covetousness, and pride, unclean life, and ribaldry, hatred, and emulation, brawling, swearing, drunkenness, and epicurism, and some worse than these; which the doers of them do daily father upon thy blessed will. Not by saying that those acts be thy will; but by saying, or thinking they do thy will daily, when yet these bad fruits, and none but these grow upon them more, and more, with little or no amending at all. Whom when I see notwithstanding to be holden wise, yea in all ages some such graced in the world for their natural gifts, and fortune, which thou hast bestowed upon them; what a mirror is this, that thou hast given me to see myself by, as I said in the beginning, and to fly selfe-governing as a mortal enemy.  
Lastly, from my cradle in a manner thou hast taught me how corrupt our nature is, how prone to evil, and apt to follow ourselves, and our own ways. And hereupon we wish when we be young, that we were grown to be men; hoping then, that we shall rule ourselves, and do what we list. And when we have our wish, and the bridle in our own hands, what have we gotten? even that which in our childhood, and weak judgement, and before we had fully the use of reason, we desired, and thought a very good thing; even that our corrupt nature loveth, and embraceth most, to rule ourselves. Which my understanding then must needs conclude. If so desired of children, of corrupt nature, of those that be most weak, and imperfect; ergo childish; ergo an imperfect thing, and tending to corruption of body in bodily things, and of soul in soul business. Again, if so desired in childhood, and corrupt nature, ergo to be resisted and subdued in man's estate, and reasonable nature, as well as other children's toys, that we blush to use when we be men.  
Which when I have done the contrary; that is to say, maintained it and nourished it in me, by seeking, and plotting my desires, though not in childish things, as children use to do, yet in other things answerable to my years, and estate, and have shunned always to be ruled or hear counsel to the contrary: I had just cause therefore in my light of reason, to misdeem and suspect my actions, both to be childish in the respect of the original of them; and also wicked in respect of the discretion and other abilities, which thou gavest me to discern it withal.  
But now my Lord God, and king of eternal Majesty, I know thou hast illuminated me (as thy servant Saint Augustine saith) because I see, I can do nothing of myself; which either I saw not before, or would not see. And although no sinner can at all times perfectly assure himself of thy favour whilst he liveth: yet some comforts or tokens as it were earnest-pennies, it pleaseth thee to bestow upon us, whereby with humility we may believe and be persuaded that we be in thy favour, and assuredly hope, that we be converted unto thee. And that by nothing more than by the alteration of our wills, and desires, which we feel, and find by thy grace, over that we did before our conversion. And he that hath not this feeling, and hath been a sinner, can hardly think himself truly converted, no more than a sick body can recover, but he must feel it, and can tell when he began to amend. And by this feeling and alteration that I find in me, I hope I am converted unto thee, and have joy, and comfort in it; not presuming in my own merit, but humbling myself in thy greatness, that hast made me partaker of so great a benefit.  
And to thy only glory, and my poor comfort, I often call to mind how it is with me now, and how heretofore when I was all alike without alteration, and felt myself neither better nor worse at any time. And although self-love in me hath made me been careless, as yesterday, and the day before, so this day, and the same this year, that I was the year before, and many years before that, without finding any difference at all in me, but that if I were well now, I was well then; if well then also now; and at this stay I kept many years together at an even water, but indeed ebbing; and marked not that none can stand at a stay in thy service, but qui non proficit, deficit; 
Leo.  and that shall every one feel in themselves, if they flatter not themselves. All this while I say, I could not think myself truly converted unto thee; because I could not remeber, or make estimate, when I began to alter from my wont desires, or sinful estate.  
I began not my conversion with hearing of sermons only, and little care to follow them; or with reading good books, and liking or commending them only, which was but for a fashion. I began not with outward receiving the Sacrament, which we were wont to do at a certain age, and are worse and worse for it, if we take not heed. I began not with inward security that all was well with me, because I felt no resistance in me. For this was indeed no true security, but a blindness, and punishment for sin, bred by custom; like those that live in an ill air, and care not to go out of it, because they are used to it.  
All these were to me no arguments of my conversion. But contrariwise, that I was all this while in the clouds, and darkness of self-conceit, and selfe-liking. It was my very great fault, and I confess unexcusable; that being so well endued by thee, as I was, and so quick of sight otherwise; I would be so grossly misled by my enemy where he listed; until it pleased thee of thy infinite goodness to pull in my scattered thoughts, and madest me see his deceits that blinded me; gavest me a heart to be pennitent and sorrowful, grace to be thankful, care to be watchful, and courage to fear no blows that I might receive from any adversity or prosperity in time to come.  
Hoc signum posuisti in nubibus, 
Gen. 9  This is the first sign or mark which thou didst put in the clouds of my soul. Ever since I have had a detestation of sin more or less, and a desire to know my sin. Since that time also I have been afraid to trust my own judgement again in matters of my soul. Me think I heard thee say to me: 
Eccl. 32.  fili, sine consilio nihil facias; and, peccator homc vitabit correptionem, I know right well that custom in sin maketh us think we sin not, when we sin. And therefore I have doubted myself, and asked such as have thy spirit, and know more in these matters then myself.  
After this it hath pleased thee secondly to nourish my poor endeavours with gladness, much like to them that are lightened of a heavy burden.  
Thirdly, when of frailty I have fallen again at any time; thy mercy towards me hath not given me over, but hath touched me inwardly with some heaviness, and anger against myself, till by thy ordinary means I have been restored again to good estate.  
More than this, thou hast given me a fourth token, which is to examine my thoughts, words, and deeds many times in a we eke. Especially in those things I use to offend in most; that by often contrition, and sorrow for them, I may be the readier for thee, and not altogether unprovided if thou shouldest call me any time upon the sudden. For all which good signs, and love-tokens of thy thine, I humbly thank thee, and beseech thee to continue to my lives end. Amen.   

THE SECOND HOMAGE OF A SOUL PROCEEDING IN GOD'S GRACE, with signs thereof.  
O My Lord God, by thy gifts we are illuminated, & carried upward; by thy light and leading we go higher and higher, & make ascents in our hearts, and sing unto thee a canticle of degrees, or song of parts. Behold the degrees, or steps thou hast made in my soul. O that thou couldst behold them in me, as thy gracious goodness hath intended them to my undeserving self. Thou hast showed me much, and I have followed little. Thou hast inspired often, and I have embraced seldom. Thou hast proffered great things, and I have not been answerable. Thou hast often dropped on my marble heart, that it might be made hollow and capable of thy honey dew, at the least wise in some small measure, and quantity.  
Small, and very small it is indeed by my own fault, as thou dost know, and myself bewail; yet somewhat it is, whatsoever it is. In respect whereof I am to rejoice in it, being thy gift, and therefore good, although in less measure than thou hast meant it me, yet more a great deal without comparison, than I could ever deserve. I rejoice, and praise thee, because thou hast done great things upon me. All creatures praise thee in their creation, for which they be Homagers to thee of duty, and Tributaries of endless thanks. Men much more, and I above all, do praise thee, or aught to praise thee, and I much more than numbers, do own unto thee all that can be due by a subject to his Prince, by a child to his parent, by a lost child, or castaway to a pitiful father, by a captive, or galleyslave to a merciful redeemer, by a rueful and unhappy firebrand of hell, to a most sweet, and bountiful Saviour. Even whatsoever a creature can possibly owe unto his Creator, all that I do owe unto thy Majesty.  
If I should reckon the things that have made me indebted to thy greatness, it would ask an infinite labour. For thy benefits have no end, nor am I able to express the greatness of the least of them. Howbeit for so much as the commemoration of benefits received, is both a thankfulness to a benefactor, and a stirrer of duty, and devotion in the receiver; I cannot but often remember to thy glory, and my poor comfort, how I have been lost, and how thou hast found me; being found, I was slack, and thou didst put me forward; using first my self-love to prick me inwardly with fear of eternal damnation; and after a while using my fear to fly sin, and to seek thee; by seeking thee to know thee, and by knowing thee to be acquainted with thee in some sort; by acquaintance with thee to fall in love with thee; and with love of thee to contemn all but thee; first a little, then more; even according to my grace with thee, and my poor endeavours.  
And these be the degrees, or stairs that a good will hath made in my soul. Fear first drove me till I came at love; and when love had the mastery, it drove away fear. Fear frighted me for doing sin; thy love urged me to loathing of sin. For who seethe thee, and knoweth thee, that art truly brightness, and detesteth not sin, that is true deformity, foulness, and dishonour? Happy the fear that feareth to offend thee, but how much happier the love that delighteth in pleasing thee? for both I humbly thank thee, and for continuing in both, I thank thee more. Many have both for a time, and are at loss again at an other time; rising and falling with the tide of their passions, and faring like those that hazard all upon the uncertain dice, and have money in their purses at one time, and none at an other.  
With me likewise it hath been so ere now. But now I hope in thy grace not so. Yea, though my frailties, and many imperfections do daily humble me in my own eyes; yet thy grace makes me bold to say, that thy fear, and love hath now gotten some strength, and taken root in me. The which thou hast shown unto me, as to other thy servants, by some signs, and tokens, that thou givest us, to encourage us the more in thy service. And these are daily amendment, or care of amendment, and all those graces, & strength, that follow thereof. Which are joy and quiet of mind in thy service; obeying thee without repining, loss without grudging, having chaste thoughts without corruption, patience without murmuring, humility without affecting, fear without scruple or despair, truth without doubleness, and such like.  
But in particular I have noted these things following, which I account not only signs, but also exceeding great benefits of thine. And which it behoveth every soul that hath them, as well to be mindful of, to be thankful; as of his sins, to be penitent; and sorrowful for them.  
The first and greatest is, a great good liking I have to be rather subject, and under in a mean sort, if it pleased thee so, then to be over others in the best sort that can be in the world. Knowing well my own exceeding weakness, and insufficiency to govern others, that have spoiled myself well-near with governing but one: and also seeing that government hath always multiplicity of business, 
Eccli. 28.  & business cannot be without many negligences, which (unless thy grace be marvelous great) do turn thy face from us daily more and more, and put us quite from our by as to heavenward.  
An other benefit it hath pleased thee to bestow on me, which is a desire, and love I have to be always reading, or hearing talk of thee, either in sermons, or otherwise, if my spare time and vocation do permit me; which if it do not, it contents me yet to think of thee often. And this thy benefit hath in me also two more with it, which I should not miss for any thing.  
The first is, that I regard not the style, or eloquence of one, or other, but the sense, and spirit of the writer, or preacher; thinking it ever an argument of great imperfection in me, to hear him for the style, or tongue, and to be left to novices rather, that know not yet what thy service meaneth; or rather to Jndians and Ethiopians that are drawn to know thee first with trifling things, as rings, bells, & looking-glasses, that pleased them, and made them first to love thy servants, and by little and little to listen to them, and afterward to believe them, and to acknowledge thy truth. Neither do thy servants, and preachers (though greatly, and diversly endued by thee with nature, and art) use to affect eloquence in their preaching. Or if they do, it is but toserue our vicious, and curious ears, that will not be drawn to thee without many words, and devices, and much persuasion. All messengers are alike to me, that come with tidings from thee: let them stut or speak plain, all is one to me, so they tell me true. My love doth easily supply all defects that may be.  
The second is, that when I hear a virtue commended, I think not straight, that I come near the perfection of it. Or when I hear a vice, or notorious sin inveighed against; thy mercy is such towards me, that I think not straight of such, or such a one to be touched, but only myself, either in act, or will, if thy grace had not letted me; or else I am moved thereby to compunction for my former life passed, or for others in general, that are yet entangled in the same sin.  
It is also another great benefit of thine, that of thy goodness thou puttest me often in mind of my own weakness for perseverance, or constancy in resisting sin, or temptation, as of myself, but only by thee. And to that end I often pray to thee still for more grace, and further supply of thy gentleness towards me. And in receiving any grace of thee, I am always humbled by it in respect of thy free bounty & liberality and my own unworthiness, that can no ways deserve it.  
O my Savidur I cannot think of these thy benefits so great, without blushing; that ever thou shouldest bestow them so freely upon so poor a worm of the earth, & so ungrateful a creature, as I have been, and am. And yet not here an end of thy benefits. Which the further I wade into, the further (me think) I am from an end. Yet two or three more (with thy leave) I can not but speak of, because they are comforts also, and tokens to me, that I am in thy grace. Grant I beseech thee, that I may be thankful.  
I hâue been soon angry ere now, and long in pleasing. And that either through strength of my passion, and little heed how thou frownedst upon me all the while; or else for that I thought it unworthy of a high mind to be soon pleased with out much mediation first. And so (as the devil would have it) I have made two or three sins of one. But now through thy grace most chiefly, and my own endeavour, and watch (which is also thy grace) I have in a manner killed the heart of this infirmity; and do prepare myself against it at the first encounter, when occasion is. If I happen to be disgraced, disdained, or flouted, none of these (I thank thee) disturb me within; or if they do, thy grace is with me by and by, to amend myself by it in somewhat, or to pity them that wrong me without cause, or think it sent me for my trial, or mortification.  
I find that the Philosophers had these virtues also; but I perceive it was for pride much-what, & praise of men. And they thought it a high degree of virtue, if they had done a fault to go into the market place, and publish it there, and to lay themselves open to every man's reprehension. But this to do, as it may be scandalous, so I see it not practised by any of thy servants. And yet if it be done, magistro, et fratri, (as S. Hierome saith) I hold it not good to conceal any thing either done, or intended. I seek not praise of men, but simply to please thee. And I can take a reprehension in good part, though told me in the worst manner.  
The Philosophers have another opinion, that he that profits in virtue, shall never dream they do ill, no more than a beast (they say) will go out of the way he is used to, although he be turned lose, and the reins on his neck. But this I know by thy grace is no certain sign. For the enemy when he cannot fasten on us waking, will delude us sleeping, yea and make us believe we sinned when we did not, if we gave no provocation to it waking, which we must labour to avoid.  
In all my contracts, bargains, & promises, I am very scrupulous of my words, that they prove true. And I use to ask much counsel, if there be any likelihood of injustice. I thank thy goodness for it; I have as much care of this, as I have of the title I deal withal; especially towards my inferiors.  
One common infirmity I am careful to prevent. And that is ingratitude, a churlish and unmannerly sin; that reigns both in court and country. I had rather lie fast for debt, then be ingrate. It is worth a man's study to satisfy where one is beholding; and rather to my inferiors, and equals, then to my betters, though necessary to both.  
One miserable gulf I have escaped by thy grace, which I beseech thee of thy goodness to continue to my lives end. And that is aptness to take scandal. He is half way in hell, that will be soon scandalised. All the world is full of scandals. It is called scandalum pusillorum, Scandal of the weak. If I see a Saint do nought, yet by thy grace I will not do nought; but look to myself the better for it. No abuse of religion shall weaken my faith. The thing abused I like never the worse for the abuse, but the better. Being the devils doing, to raise scandal on that which is good, to take that which is good away. If Churchmen excommunicate for money, and absolve for money, and take more of a rich man, then of a poor; is the Church of less authority for their abuse? I cannot think with myself, what corruption can scandalise me. And this is thy grace, with many others daily growing on me. And which thou knowest I speak not to my praise, but to thine, that art the giver. Thou givest both velle, & perficere. I endeavour, though but weakly sometimes; perform it thou, for thy mercy's sake, and and make me still stronger and stronger. Amen.  
FINIS.