A SECOND PART TO THE Mothers Blessing: OR A CVRE AGAINST MISFORTVNES.  
divided into certain principal RECEIPTS, to cure the Mind of MAN.  
By G. M.  
LONDON, Printed by G. P. for Thomas dew, and are to be sold in S. Dunstans Church-yard. 1622.   

The Contents.  

A Cure 

1. Against poverty, and the sundry Occasions thereof, as 

game.  
robbery.  
shipwreck.      
A Cure 

2. Against casual Losses, as 

loss of Sight.  
loss of Children.  
loss of a Friend.  
loss of a Wife.      
A Cure 

3. Against Contempt, and the Occasions, as 

Want of Strength.  
Want of greatness.  
Want of Preferment.      
A Cure 

4. Against pain, and the Occasions, as 

Sorrow.  
Torments.  
Cares.        

The Preface to the READER.  
WHEN I first debated and resolved with myself to writ this small Treatise, diuers obstacles and hindrances rose up and stood before me, ready to take my hand from the Paper, as mine insufficiency in Art, and my disability to instruct others, which stand in need myself of a continual instruction; but taking a more strict survey both of mine own feelings, and other sufferance, I found me entered so far within the compass of a known and approved experience; that howsoever there might be rudeness or roughness in my labour; yet doubtless there should not want truth nor profit. Truth, which might adorn & beautify those weak Buildings, which are often shaked wi h the storms and Tempests of these worldly casualties; and Profit, which might enrich and support the mind, when at any time it began to decline or bend under the gripping hand of that which wee call Misfortune. This experience of evils became unto me both a spur to set me forward in that career which I haue now finished( in this little book:) and also an armour to defend me against the Bitings and bitterness both of Curiosity & Censure.  
A Patron or Protector to the Work I durst not assume; first, in respect I held it much too humble for those which are both Great and Good; and next, in respect I knew it much and precious for those which are evil, proud and disdainful. books now adays( for the most part) come to their Patrons like Citations, from which men covet to shrink and hid themselves; or else like briefs, which howsoever they exhort to charity, yet they find few charitable: now that neither of these effects may work vpon this, I sand it thus naked into the world, and indeed would onely haue it bear itself, of itself. Dedications which come from love, many mistake, and those mistakings breed Grudgings not Gratitudes: those which proceed from desire of gain, are sordid and Base, and howsoever they may bee gilded over, yet the poison of contempt is easy to bee tasted. Both these also I will now shun, and onely wish them that are sick and stand in need, to try my physic; those which are in health and sound, may stay till disease come vpon them: those which are indifferent, that is, half sick, half sound, may( if they please) try some Medicines: there is no doubt but they will work much, either to confirm, or at least to procure a prevention. I haue tried thē, must love them; for I haue recovered by them. They which exercise the like, will( no doubt) find the like: they which are fearful and dare not; or foolish and will not, let them still live and languish; for they are neither worthy of Fathers, Mothers, no nor any good Physicians blessing.  
Thine G. M.   

A Cure against Mis-fortunes.  

CHAP. I. A Cure against poverty, and the sundry occasions: And first of contented poverty.  
howsoever( my dearest children) in respect of Art, which might adorn, and authority, which might defend a work of this nature, none less then myself can lay claim to sufficiency; yet in as much as I know the first is sometimes but leaf gold, or an unwholesome Pill, and the other, often a velvet gown on a fools back- Why should I staule or seek to hid mine Ingrediens, and the rather, since in sufferings, and experience of worldly frailties, few equal me. Let it suffice what I haue felt and known in myself, or seen and judged in others; of that I will writ freely, boldly.  
Nor in this will I imitate the great wonder of philosophy, who( writing on these accidents) began at the top or highest part of the scale of mischief. But contrariwise, stoop to the ground and set my foot on the lowest round first, and so ascend till I come to the extremest and last step of mortal disaster.  
Many will reply unto me, that these things( which I shall hereafter baptize by the name of Misfortunes) are accidents not in mans power either to qualify or alter; being the unrecoverable work of destiny( which some philosophers would haue to be nothing else but a certain necessity imposed vpon things, and is either caused from above, or derived from the supposition of principles; as the concurrents of atoms, the imagination of the soul of the world, the order of causes, or the influence of stars.) But I that know it to be a disposition of the divine providence, regarding the adventures and events of the inferior life, cannot be induced to believe, in respect it is eternal and immutable( as being in the Spirit of God) that it imposeth any necessity at all. But as it is temporal & contingent( carrying her effects into things which are human) so she may bee said to haue power over the body of man, but not over his mind.  
The stars haue no power over our wills, and howsoever the actions of Destiny may bee necessary in the matter, in the effect it is not; but the meditation, care, wisdom and discourse which heaven may ever prevent it. So that in all the extremities of these mortal and worldly accidents, we haue still a refuge to fly unto, and where our vigilance cannot, there reason and disputation with the soul may ever find out an wholesome remedy.  
To come then to the lowest step of a mans Misfortune, It is poverty, a thing so contrary to an uncorrected mind( wearing on the face so foul a mask, and on the body such tattered garments) that where the eye can pierce no farther then the uppermost skin of the Superficies; there must the mind of necessity remain torn and tormented with a thousand vexations. But where it is able to found the depth of these rough and disquieted waves, there shall Reason ever find safety: and howsoever the storms or tempests blow, yet shall he either find Sea-roome enough to avoid Rocks and shallowes, or a harbour near at hand in which he may anchor and laugh at the winds fury.  
Of poverty there are two kindes, the one contented, the other discontented.  
That which wee call contented poverty is an honest thing, for it bringeth a man to a peaceable and contented life, it bindeth that little he enjoyeth so fast unto him, that Fortune cannot deprive it, and it makes a man live according to Nature, not opinion; It makes him know that falsity hath no limit, error, is infinite, and only Truth hath its end.  
This is that which is secure, for it feareth no alarms, beats not her thoughts for escapes, nor tyers itself in finding out either its own or others provisions, whensoever necessity hoysteth her sail, the haven lies open stil and direct before her, there is no trouble for her entertainment, no gazing crowd to pester about her, nor ever had shee need of any foreign felicity.  
This labours to feed hunger( which hath a limit) not express( which is without bound) this pleaseth instant desires, not infinite longings, & this possesseth things to lose them, not loseth to find them in a double worldly nature.  
To contemn wealth, is to draw near unto God, and to be content with thy chance is Diamond like to sparkle in the eyes of the beholders, whilst transitory riches as a dead soil, lies despised below it: This tells us that felicity, which is grounded vpon riches is a disquiet thing; for it tormenteth itself, distempreth the brain, and keeps the heart continually shaking. It is like the first wheel of a clock moving backward and forward, holding a motion busy and incertain, for it moveth some to riot, some to dissimulation, some to pride, and some to baseness: where on the contrary part, felicity, which is grounded on contented poverty, it is so absolute, that it hath no need of other felicity; and all things are so perfect about it, that man can desire no more unless it were to make it perpetual.  
In brief, this contented poverty is that which shows us the incomparable beauty of poverty; and comparing the countenance of the poor man, with that of the Rich man, there is such alteration in complexions, that the one is all faire and lovely, the other foul & deformed. The Poor man that is contented▪ hath continual smiles vpon his forehead, and laughter in his cheeks, his tongue is the instrument to which his heart daunceth, & in his ears lodge no sounds, but such as are full of music and sweetness; care cannot shake him, neither the tempests of the world move the small lest twig of his highest branches: swifter then clouds his troubles fly over, and with slower place then the first mover of the spheres goes any one good thought from his bosom; where those which are Fortunes Minions haue no mirth but such as is feigned: No pleasure, but that which wears false apparel; nor any content, but such as is guarded with Distrust and Disquiet; their Pride are their torments, their preferments their fears, and their honours nothing else but baits, which entice a thousand thieves to wake continually about them. They are most miserable, in that sometimes they haue not liberty to bee publicly miserable, and the greatest happiness in which they can boast, is that they can counterfeit happiness, though they neither taste, nor feel it.  
All the pomp of Riches, Reputation, authority and renown( which in mens opinions are so precious, though in effect most vild and undoing) are to these gaudy fools nothing else but false guides, which ever led them from the true path of contentment; there is nothing in them worthy praise, nothing magnificent, nothing to bee beloved, nor is there any thing in them, either to 'allure or entice us more then this old foolish custom, that, fools do admire them. neither doth any man extol them because they are to bee desired; but because wee see many deceived wisdoms desire them; for beleeue it all that riches is able to work in the mind, is nothing else but an alteration of opinion, an increase of Pride, a support to envy, and an affection to those false shadows of greatness which onely confounded and consume vs.  
All good things ought to be without fault; because they are pure and neither corrupt nor amuse the mind, but rather extol and delight it, & indeed such is contented poverty, for it makes men confident; riches make men proud, it makes men journey to a certain inn; Riches make men wander they know not whither; it gives greatness of mind, Riches gives insolence; and to knit up all, contented poverty is the ass which bears Christ to jerusalem; Riches an Imbrodred Cushion on which the devill sits to hear the worst of the worlds Stories. So that to bee contented with thy poverty, is no more to be poor, but abundantly rich in all true felicity.   

CHAP. II. A Cure against Discontented poverty.  
DIscontented poverty is a wicked and a wounding evil, for he that agreeth not with his poverty, may( of all men) justly bee said to bee most unhappy, and though he enjoy never so much, yet hath he nothing but Obliquie and Discontent, as his best and dearest companions. For what avails it a man to bee master of both the Indies, if notwithstanding his longings bee fixed vpon another mans fortunes, if those things cannot please him which are gotten, but still his thirst rangeth after things new to be attained; how rich or poor soever his Garments be, how empty or full his barns; how finite or infinite his Cattle; how small his debts, or great his usury, yet is this man said to be poor, in the worst and most vnwholsomest construction.  
This man making himself a slave to his own opinion, is becomed a slave to all wise mens judgements; for he is wretched that iudgeth not himself to bee most blessed, neither can he be happy, whose own heart is a continual trumpet to clamour his own misfortunes.  
simplo poverty in itself( when it assaults a man) comes silently, peaceably, like a gentle calm, and neither affrights the Eyes with horrible apparitions, nor the ears with dreadful sounds. It hath neither flashes of lightning to dazzle us, nor claps of Thunder to amaze vs. But when it is vsher'd forth with Discontentment, then it appears in the most dreadfullest pomp that may be, then Fire, Sword, Famine, bolts, Bonds, & whole Armies of wild Beasts muster about it, and with a greediness more insaate then death seed and devour both our lives and entrails. It then suggesteth evils, not proves them, shows us fears to weaken courage, not inflame it; and( like the divell) conuayes us to a high Mountain, where it shows us the whole world for a temptation, not a blessing.  
Besides, discontented poverty never walketh without two malicious Fiends in his company, envy and covetousness, the one fills his mouth with disparagements at others prosperities, the other cloys his heart with continual new desires of those things which are still either above or beyond him; and as the malice of the first makes him hate the person, but admire the condition which is placed in a sphere to exceed him; so the infinite longings of the latter shows him such instability and incertainty both in the attaining and holding of those riches, for which he had formerly sold and abjured all wholesome contentment; that being made a slave to discontent and desire, there is no estate of any creature which can bee more vilde or despised.  
So that hence, this conclusion must needs bee gathered, That as the man which hath nothing, but what nature simply desireth, is simply accounted poor, or simply miserable: So he which is utterly discontented with his estate, and only becomes the seruant of opinion; that man is truly most poor, truly most miserable.   

CHAP. III. A Cure against all poverty in general.  
having thus taken a survey of these two contrary pictures, and( as it were) in two bundles knit up their defects and perfections, let me not blunt my Pen with persuasions touching either the one or the others election, for no mind can bee so sottish as not easily to judge of these colours. Remember they are superfluities which we sweat and labour for; things natural and necessary God hath provided in a plentiful manner. Seest thou the springs & watery veins of the earth, what thirst will they not quench? Seest thou the surface and covering of the ground, what hunger will it not staunch? Seest thou the Beasts of the Field, whom will they not cloath? And seest thou not the Trees of the forest? whom will they not shade and defend from tempests. As for things of contrary nature, as Gold, minerals, pearls, Precious stones,( which howsoever wee long or labour for, yet( many times) they are found burdensome and wounding to those which possess them;) these hath provident Nature either locked up in the Earth, or hidden in the Seas, as things which being broken up or wrested from their closerts( by our pains and industries) rather threaten us with judgements, then fill us with comforts.  
The measure which we should hold in our desires, is to haue all things necessary, things sufficient, and he which strayeth beyond that bound, falleth into a Precipis, whence there is no recovery from the present ruin of his contentments; for Nature allows us but onely this, Not to bee hungry, not to be thirsty, not to be could; and for these things wee neither need to sweat, nor yet to wear out our apparel. Our cares need not make us old, nor our attempts draw vpon us the hate either of our home or foreign neighbours.  
poverty is no hindrance to any good action; It is only the ambitious desire of wealth which brings vpon us, and makes us acquainted with every disaster. What thief will bid a poor man stand? or what malice will shoot his darts against that bosom which is armed with a confidence that is able to break or return them back vpon the face of the shooter.  
Since then poverty is so good, so wholesome, so secure, since it keeps the body in firm health, and cleanseth the mind of every turbulent and unruly passion, why should wee shrink, or out of the cowardliness of our deceived natures start from it as a bugbear. No let us rather with open arms receive, kiss, and embrace it. Nay howsoever wee abound in the goods of fortune; what admirations soever depend or cluster about us; what Honours soever cloath us, what favours soever supports us, though the Exchequers of Kings lay open to us; be our garments steel, scarlet, or purple; yet the very imitation of poverty is excellent and pleasant. And a man shall be made more assuredly rich, when he knows it is neither painful nor grievous, at any time to bee made poor.  
It is our inacquaintance with poverty which makes us fear poverty, and those which tell us the strange tales of its hiddeousnesse and deformity; deal with us as the Spaniards did both with us and other Nations in their first conquest of the West Indies: make the savages beleeue that( all but themselves) were Men-eaters, cruel, and without mercy; so that they fled from all other commercement; but experience brought forth other proofs. And in like manner of poverty, he that least knows it, most fears it. But he that with Lucillius will take Senecaes counsel, and at least once a month truly and seriously enter into a strong and perfect imitation, shal bee assured never after to fear it; for it is as easy to endure poverty always, as to attempt it once. And for a further testimony, even Epicurus himself( to whom the very sound of poverty was( like the shrieks of Mandrakes, fatal and killing) boasted in an Epistle he writ to Charinus, that he had found more true contentment in one moneths imitation of poverty, then in all the pleasures, feasts, & riches which he had either seen or possessed in the whole circuit of his life before.  
But why strive I thus to make the world in love with poverty; think you it is because I would draw all men either to the detestation, or from the possession of honest riches: No, God forbid, let every man enjoy his goods freely, securely; yet by all means without fear; so love them, as they may serve thee, not command thee: embrace them as guess which thou canst kindly entertain for a night, and with as much friendship again shake hands and depart with thee next morning; think them not household Gods, but transsitorie gifts: for, Few die rich, less live rich, and none were ever born rich.  
Thou mayest employ them for thine occasions; but not admire them for their counsels: for beleeue it nothing is fuller of flattery, nothing fuller of falsehood. Riches will say this man followeth thee, or this man loveth thee, when indeed it is but something in thee: whereas poverty is ever honest, true and full of plain dealing. It will point thee out, and show thee the very perfect character of those which are thine unfeigned friends, of such as love thee for thyself, not for thy fortunes, and therefore howsoever Riches may haue thy countenance or employment, yet is poverty onely worthy of thy sincere love and affection.   

CHAP. IIII. A Cure against loss of Wealth, by game, riot, &c. being an occasion of poverty.  
some will say unto me, that the effects which spring from poverty, may be easy and portable, but the cause heavy and intolerable. As that thou hast spent thy wealth and substance in game, riot, or those disorderly and unruly courses, which like a Circes catching hold vpon the wills of men, instantly transforms them into all the shapes of Dis-reputation. Let this bee granted, and that game or the like hath consumed thee: Alas, what hast thou lost? money, Lands, revenues; things peradventure would haue lost thee, for who knows the evils which might haue sprung, either from too much love, too little care, or too vilde an employment. Thou hast lost but what thou hadst, neither hast thou done any miracle or strange thing; but onely shewed thyself somewhat too grateful to Fortune, in restoring back to her all that in an instant, which peradventure she had been many ages in bestowing. This may be an act of indiscretion & so worthy repentance, not despair, or the mindes infinite disturbance. These losses ●re many times the loss of greater dangers, and when folly & guilt haue thus brought thee to poverty, thou mayst then comfort thyself with this assurance, that so long as thou keep'st wisdom either for thy friend or companion, so long it will defend thee from any relapse or second falling into the same mischief.  
Hast thou( at game) lost thy wealth, lose with it also thy covetousness, then hast thou made thyself most happily happy, for in parting with a white Witch, thou hast also forsaken a black devil, and though thou tookest a wrong way for thy deliverance, yet when thou shalt,( tired, torn, and wounded) find out the harbour of contented poverty, thou shalt there in the quiet calmness of thy meditations find a ready and sovereign balm for the cure of all thy mischiefs. But if thy mind( like Mizentius) will still keep thy living covetousness bound to thy dead fortunes; yet shalt thou find this happiness in thy former unhappy losses, that it hath left thee neither Wood nor oil, Flint, Tinder, nor steel to strike on, whereby ever again either to kindle, feed, or nourish a fire so horrible, dreadful, and consuming.  
again, is thy wealth lost by game or the like bewitching enticements; O but consider how many( as well as thyself) may be poisoned by this change or transmutation: think of the infection it carrieth with it, how catching it is and how destroying: think of thy false baits, how sweet they are, yet poisonous and deceiving, and think of the ends to which it endeavours to draw all mortal opinions, & thou shalt find in them nothing but vain glory, pride, and ambition: this consideration shall make thee walk lightly vpon the ground and having( as it were) disburden thee of an insupportable load; thou shalt find thyself light and nimble to run the race of any noble and praise-woorthy action: Neither the survey of Houses, the proof of Oxen, nor the enticement of a wife, shall bee able to detain thee one minute from following that guide, which shall conduct thee to all true felicity: Thou shalt now live secure in thine own cottage, & neither haue heir to languish at the prosperity of thy health, nor doubt an heir, whose covetousness, contention, or riot, may awaken thy dead bones from the grave, & make thee( as it were) live again in the shane of their wicked courses. Fortune in this case is become thy physician, not thy disease, and therfore all lamentation, outcry, or complaining, is senseless and without reason.  
Remember it is thyself, which thyself woundest, for hadst thou kept them like Nosegayes, whereat to smell for a day, and then to cast off and neglect the next morning, being withered and without savour; there could haue been no cause of torment, no cause of complaining. Remember thou hast lost nothing but what another had lost before;( for the gifts of Fortune spring not new, but grow from Succession) nothing thou hast but what another had, nor any thing hast thou lost, but what thou mayst imagine another, to the end( for a while) thou mightest enjoy them.  
think of the Phylophers cobbler which lost his singing when he found his wealth, and think of the wholesomnesse of the Purgation thou hast taken, which hath disburdened thee of that which hath damned so many. Be mindful therefore henceforth not of thy loss of money, but of thy loss of time, nor complain for the injuries done thee by Fortune, but the abuses done by thyself against Gods creatures; so shall thy sin, and not thy wealth, grieve thee: and when thou hast wrought in thyself a noble reformation, thou shalt find contentment gather about thee; neither shall thy Mother( like the Spanish Lady) conjure thee from playing away her clothes before her body receive burial.   

CHAP. V. A Cure against Robbery, or Stealth, being an occasion of poverty.  
but it is not game which is thine affliction; thou hast fallen into the hands of sleeves, and so art robd & spoiled of all thou enioyedst: doubtless this is grievous at the first apprehension, but when thou shalt( with a premeditate iudgement) compare it with other mens misfortunes, it will then appear light, gentle, and easy, for thou hast fallen into the hands of sleeves who haue robbed thee of the goods of Fortune, another man hath fallen into the hands of sleeves, and they haue taken from him both life & fortune.  
Thou hast fallen into the hands of sleeves, and they haue taken from thee a little momentary wealth, another man hath fallen into the hands of slanderers and detractors, and haue taken from him the everlasting portion of his good name and reputation; ever that reputation which is so delicate and pure, that the least excess doth spot it, any thing that is unjust, doth it dishonour: but all things which taste either of Folly, sloth, or rashness, they ruin it for ever. That without the which man is far worse then a beast; & that, which so long as it abides and is his gentle companion; he lives as an angel amongst men full of love, and full of brave admiration.  
Thou hast fallen into the hands of sleeves, and they haue taken from thee a Bundle of necessaries, which might haue adorned and beautified thy body. But another man hath fallen into the hands of Cozeners, and they haue cheated him of all the benefits and blessings of his mind; for they haue turned his discretion into folly, his iudgement into rashness, his temperance into fury, and made his heart a Palace meet to entertain nothing but flattery and dissimulation.  
What traveler is he which knows not the danger of highways? and what forecast is that which can shake hands with wisdom, and is not armed either with Strength to withstand, or else with Patience to entertain the worst of these casual misaduentures.  
But thou mourn'st, thou complayn'st, nay thou art half mad, for these crosses and losses, when in truth thou oughtest rather to triumph and rejoice that thou hast escaped bonds, wounds, nay death itself; all which commonly are adjuncts to these mischiefs. What knowest thou whether heaven thought thy goods a metre venom to impoyson him that stolen them, then thee which truly possessedst them; doubtless it is that providence hath an eye into all these thy proceedings, and when soever thy passionate grief shal make thee rebel thereat, thou heapest to thyself a double vexation.  
But thou hast not fallen into the hands of Theeues onely; but Theeues & dissemblers, which were thy known and professed enemies, here is a new disturbance fallen unto thee, yet in this rather blame thyself then thy Fortune; for look with what ever armor thou wouldest encounter a wolf( as thou passest over the Alpes) or with what shield thou wouldest receive the assault of an inuenomed Serpent, with the like care and strength thou shouldst ever provide thyself of succours against all the attempts of thy known Enemies. Haue ever a power to repulse them, or else a scorn that can repress them. But where those two fail, there call a wisdom full of Patience unto thee, and let it either make thee gracious in their eyes( which is the best and most assured conquest) or else let it strengthen thy mind and resolution, that these trials shall make thee fitter for God, being taken as wholesome plasters for thy soul) and thine enemies fitter for reproach and infamy, being whips and spurs to bring them furiously unto iudgement.   

CHAP. VI. A Cure against shipwreck, being an occasion of poverty.  
YEt it is not this manner of undoing, already rehearsed, which makes thee repined against thy poverty; but thou hast now suffered Shppwracke, and therein peradventure not onely lost thine own, but the Estate of those which put trust and confidence in thee, and if this be not worthy thy tears, Sorrow hath none, Reason finds none.  
But do not deceive thyself for of all casualties this is the easiest, and he which for this shall run into despair, sins not onely against himself, but against him that is the Tamer and Ruler of Tempests; and therefore if thou hast suffered shipwreck, think not of what thou hast lost( for that is unrecoverable) but of what thou hast escaped,( for to it belongs both thy praise and thanksgiving) think not of the raging and violence of the storms, or swelling of the Seas, but think of thy hidden sins and transgressions, which might call up these winds to strive and combat against thee.  
I, but still the horror is before thine eyes, nor can the memory of the danger bee taken away from thy cogitation; The darkness of the day, the amazement of the lightning, the dreadfulness of the Thunder, the clamour of the winds, the cries of the people, the cruelty of the Seas, & the infinite contention betwixt life, death, hope, despair and desolation like so many massy hammers lie continually beating vpon thy heart, with a fresh remembrance of thy forepast troubles; yet all this is but weakness and a Feather thrust into the balance, against a mountain. When thou shalt call into thy mind who it was that spake unto thee in this dreadful and powerful manner. Not a shepherd vpon the rocks but hath seen the like, not a Fisherman but knows the like, and many Pylgrimes of the Seas haue felt the like. It is no new thing, for it hath been in all ages: It is no strange thing, for every day( almost) brings forth the like accident, and it is no evil thing, for it brings man to the knowledge of his own sin, and to the remembrance of Gods infinite mercy and power.  
But thou camest naked to the shore, Sea-beaten, bruised, sick, and half drowned; yet thou diddst attain land, and recovered. O here is a comfort far beyond al thy calamity, for what art thou, or what canst thou assume, that thus thou shouldst find a particular and an especial preservation.  
But yet thou hast lost all thy goods, all thine estate, and all( that in this world) thou diddst make account should support thee; why let them go, who knows but they were a debt thy sins did owe unto the Seas. And if by the law of Nations wee are bound to pay that which we borrow: what folly would grieve at this restitution, and the rather since it is called vpon by him who is the lender, giver, and disposer of all things. triumph at the loss of these Goods, and with them lose thy vices, so shall thy joys be perfect.  
Take unto thee contented poverty, and with it live freely, securely. And for a binding Fillet to knit up all that hath already been spoken, take this lesson from the worthiest of all philosophers,( the moral Seneca) That there is no good whatsoever, profitable to him which possesseth it, except that which he is ever addressed to lose with his most willingness.    

The Second receipt.  

CHAP. VII. A Cure against casual Losses; and first of loss of Sight.  
THE casual losses which happen to man, and do disturb, distracted, and affright the mind, are of two kindes, the one external, the other internal; of external casualties none are more pernicious and hurtful, then those which happen to the Senses: As to lose Smelling, Tasting, or Feeling, are accidents most displeasant: To lose the hearing most dangerous; but to lose the Sight most grievous. As for the loss of Member, custom( commonly) takes away the care, and Art finds a supply by which( many times) the defect is hidden. Since then the bent of this discourse leuelleth onely how to correct the mind of this unreasonable sorrow, I will here under this one head, of The loss of Sight, comprehend all other external casualties whatsoever.  
It is true that thou hast lost thy sight, and thou grieuest past measure, past mitigation; for which thou hast bidden the whole world good night, and shalt no more behold the faire glory of the sky, the brightness of the sun, the beloved complexions of thy friends, nor the desired beauties of thy dearest wife and children. Thy feet haue lost their guide; thy Hands their Tutor, and thy mind its Election. Thou art now no more thyself, but Infant-like runnest back into thy Cradle, and art( in all thy outward actions) to bee ruled and governed by the Foster nurses commandement.  
O let not thy grief thus deceive thee, but call up into thy mind thoughts of a better composition: Remember Philosophy teacheth us, that, Bodily blindness is a part of Innocence, and that night and obscurity haue their pleasures as well as the day and sun-shine: Thou hast not lost thy sight, but return'd it back from thine eyes to thy soul; drawn it from a weak Garrison, which every vanity could surprise, to an invincible Fort, which no worldly illusion can or ought to conquer. Thou hast by this loss, brought to thy soul this benefit. A much abler iudgement, a more stayed memory, and a most absolute divine Meditation. Thou hast in this loss, lost millions of Desires, every one more dangerous and more killing to thy soul, then a general plague to an infected army, for the Eye is the universal and hideous bawd which allures and enticeth us to all manner of sins that are mortal. The Eye shewed Comodus his lust, Caligula his incest, and taught tarquin the way to ravishment. It was the Eye( seeing the honour done unto the gods) which stirred the pride in Clearchus the Tyrant, that he called himself jupiter, and took vpon him the practise or artificial lightning and Thunder. It was the Eye that made Alexander envy the conquests of his Father Philip: the Eye made Heliogabalus so nice, slothful, and effeminate, that he forsook all manly attributes, and wished no other death, but to be smothered in Roses. The Eye made Caesar covetous of a Monarchy: the Eye made Nero dig into the entrails of his own Mother, and to please the Eye, Anthony had the wealth of a rich city lavishly spent at one Feast, for his most unfortunate entertainment.  
Of what sin is not the Eye guilty, what mischief doth it not pursue, and what vanity doth it not hold either in act or imitation? There is no fashion so hateful, vild and deformed, but if the Eye see it, the Body presently entertains it; no beauty so chased, pure, or innocent, but if the Eye behold it, the heart instantly is inflamed; nor is there any vanity( of what condition soever) but still there is some Eye that will both love and admire it. O how happy art thou then, that by thy deprivation art deprived of these mischiefs; Nay, wouldst thou but silently sit & call into thy memory a Catalogue of those objects which thou hast lost, and which rather thē thou wouldst behold thou wouldst tear thine eyes from their Coffins; even that recordation would give thee such contentment, that al thy former griefs( like withered leaves) would fall from their branches.  
To conclude, the Eye is the weapon and sting of vices, and the guide or usher, which goes before, and leads us the way to all sin and wickedness: if then to haue this weapon put into virtues hand, and this Guide set in so faire & even a path, that he cannot stray from a pious meditation: if this be a blessing, thou art blessed in thy losses; and howsoever thine eyes want outward light, yet shall thy soul be enriched with the multiplications of a world of other glories.   

CHAP. 8. A Cure against the loss of Children.  
me thinks, I hear thee complain unto me, that it is not any external loss,( of which I haue spoken) that afflicts thee, but thou hast an internal and greater disaster within thee: thou hast lost thy children; and that loss hath reason to tear up and wound thine entrails within thee: thy blood is distempered, nature vexed, and the whole frame both of thy body and mind put quiter out of order: to this sorrow there is no mitigation, neither canst thou be comforted, because they are not.  
Bee not deceived with this Sophistry of nature, and thine own opinion; let not thy particular affection draw thee into a general absurdity: for there is not a greater folly moving, then too much, or too unseasonably to bewail the death of those which are mortal: why, they brought no certainty into the world but this, that they must die; neither can they carry any greater glory hence, or more renown then this, that they are dead with faire and honest reputation.  
But thy children are lost; alas, this is no new thing, no strange thing, no evil thing: no new thing; for every Family, Commerce, and society are subject and liable to the same accident: wheresoever man doth sojourn, there hath death ever his habitation; and from the beginning of the world, all that haue taken breath, haue likewise died: it is no strange thing; for the first father lived to survive his best son; nay, lived to see him slain; nay, slain most unnaturally; slain by his own brother: and it is no evil thing; for it is but a payment of that debt, for which wee had contracted with nature, ever since the first man was shut out of Paradise: it is our manumission or freedom from the flesh, the world, and her deceitful allurements; and it is the Port or Gate, thorough which onely, and no other, we haue our passage to eternal felicity, and shall come to behold the most glorious face of our Maker.  
But thou wouldst haue had thy children to haue survived thee, that the comfort of their succession might haue given to thy name a kind of eternity; which lost and prevented, thou accountest thyself undone and wretched: why consider? doth any man call a three miserable, because she sheds her fruit on the ground, whilst her branches flourish and mount upward? doth any man account the stork unnatural, because shee casts down one of her young ones, to pay the rent for her protection? In like case, thy children are thy fruit, and whether they fall late or early, it is without thy disparagement; they are thy rent, and whensoever thou payest them, it is not before they are due; for to thy omnipotent Landlord thou art ever a debtor.  
again, no man is exempt from these stroke: Death is a free visitor, and whensoever he thrusts his shear into the corn, the harvest is always ripe and ready: untimely burials come as well out of the Cottage, as the capitol: no man hath privilege; for when the poorest egyptian mourned for the loss of his first-born, even Pharaoh himself( in the same hour) was touched with the like lamentation. Destiny and Old-age differ much in their progress; for they never keep one and the same order, but as the one hath an assurance and certainty not to bee avoyded, and so walks slowly: so the other, being evermore at the commandement and disposition of providence, is ever swift, watchful, sudden, and furious.  
No man goes out of the world at the same Port which he entred, but as they wander several ways, so they find several paths to conduct them to that Rest, which is, and must ever be hourly expected, Why dost thou then torment and afflict thyself for the loss of thy children? or what in that action hath happened unto thee contrary to thy hope? questionless nothing: for those which were born to die, are dead, not any in whom there was a hope( in this world) to be eternal: nay, those which ought to die, are dead; and will any wisdom murmur at the discharge of so honest and so expected a duty.  
But it is contrary to thy wish; for thou wouldst still haue enjoyed them, still haue fed vpon the sweetness of their loved society: but did any promise unto thee such a feast? is it possible to find such a bargain? or can earth challenge so much as the imagination of such a contract? O no, fie no, the dayes of life are numbered, and it is impossible for any sorrow or perplexity in man to add or diminish the smallest part of the smallest minute or motion of Time.  
But yet thy children are lost, and this imposthume cannot so soon be either broken or healed; they were thy flesh, and in their death thou hast received a wound both aching and smarting: if it be so, call to thy consideration who hath them; and then arguing his and thine own title, at the bar of indifferency, and before the face of an unpartial Iudgment, thou shalt find, that he which holds them, was the certain, true, and everlasting Owner, and thyself but a poor borrower, that in thy return, hast hardly sent back the half part of the moiety. They were lent thee onely to bring up, onely to inform in all Christian duties: this if thou hast fulfilled, thou hast discharged the part of a good parent, and they return back to their true and perfect owner with more glory, and a much better acceptation: here is cause of rejoicing, not of mourning.  
Yet for all this they are dead, and in their death thou hast lost all thy fruitful hopes, all thy sweet expectations; thou shalt not now see one of them raised to the highest scale of Honour; a second sit in Scarlet, and a third armed in steel, bring foreign Triumphs home into his own city. O do not deceive thy goodness with these incertainties! this loss or change hath brought thee a much better assurance, thou needest not now hope, but mayst with confidence say to thine own soul, that thou hast seen the uttermost worst which the malice of envy or Fortune can possibly work against them. Thou shalt not henceforth need to fear this childs ambition, that's covetousness, nor the others riot; thou shalt not see one keep a market for Honor; another a Shambles for blood; nor the third a Seralia, for variety of all manner of Concupiscence. Thou shalt not see them mount to dignity by Bribes; afterwards pawn it to covetousness, and in the end forfeit all to the gallows: neither shalt thou see them depart out of the world, one with infamy; another with Curses; and a third with diseases. Of these fears thou art released, and thou mayst with a sweet comfort inform thyself, that when next thou shalt meet them in the higher Regions, thou shalt then see thē clothed in white garments, and crwoned amongst the Angels. If this ask tears, ioy hath no dwelling; neither is there left vpon the earth( for a pious delight) either harbour or habitation.   

CHAP. 9. A Cure against the loss of a Friend.  
but all these losses( beforesaid) are removed, and thou hast now a greater and much heavier weight within thee, Thou hast lost thy Friend, thy faithful friend, thy true friend, the companion of thy comforts, the closet of thy counsels, and the physician to all thy cares and afflictions; thou hast lost him that lived in thee, and thou in him; one that by an equal sympathy of sorrow and delight, partake with thee in all things, of what nature and condition so ever.  
This then & thy sorrow approves that thou hadst a Friend, & neither was the roughness of thy, nature, nor the incivility of thy conversation so barbarous or stupid, that thou couldst neither affect, nor yet bee affencted; thou hadst in thee some sweetness; some goodness: sweetness to 'allure, and goodness to reward and pay this obligation of friendship.  
But thou hast lost thy Friend. No, the delight of his memory will ever be a living companion within thee; neither must thou imagine him lost, but retired: That he is journeyed vpon so important, so necessary, and so laudable an occasion, as his honour and renown stood engaged, in the dispatch of so noble and predestinate an errand. And to repined in thy tears at this work of necessity, were to discover in thee an affection, but no true or faithful friendship. Should the King employ him vpon an honourable Negotiation to the furthest Indies, notwithstanding the rage of the Seas, the danger of Tempests, the infection of the line, and the barbarous cruelty of savage Nations; yet wouldst thou not only animate, but second his voyage both with thy vows and wishes. And now the King of heaven hath called him up to bee a Ledgier for ever in the eternal jerusalem: Wilt thou mourn and wring thy hands, as if he went to the Scaffold or Gibbet? this were to do him a disgraceful courtesy: and as Fabius Verrucosus calls it, to feed thy best friend with a white loaf of grauelly Bread.  
But thy friend is lost, I lost for ever, thou shalt no more enjoy the flowers of his friendship, the delight of his discourse, nor the comfort of his society. Was he then so excellent? so perfect? so absolute? had he that Triumuerat of qualities within him, which makes up an exquisite and complete man? Was he Religious? was he honest? was he valiant? Then make him thy copy: make him thy President, & by his Character, and no other, model out and frame for thyself a second election. But if this prove difficult, and that thy curiosity wants either Patience to endure the choice, or that thy heart( being closed up) will not suffer thy iudgement to entertain a second change: Then take Seneca's advice, and search into the liberal Sciences; into the honest & undeceiving trades of the upright Artificers; or into the laudable exercises of military and civil professions, and there seek thee out a companion which can never remove, till first thyself be removed. This benefit is not found out in crowdes, it comes not at the Court, it cares not for the Market, neither takes it delight either in Feasts or Triumphs. This friend thou shalt find frugal for thine estate: honest, for thy conversation; and wholesome to aduise thee in all the perplexities of Fortune.  
But hast thou lost thy friend, thy one and onely friend: Hadst thou then but one? O blushy for shane, that having lived till thou beest able to judge of a friend, thou canst yet boast the loss but of one man onely. How many Catoes? how many of the Lelij? how many Scipio's? how many Cicero's yearly depart this world, and yet in all their loss thou findest no interest? questionless thou hast either been too curious and nice in thine election, or else much by much too improvident, that sailing amongst the storms and gusts of this world, thou wouldst trust thy poor bark to hold but by one Anchor( and no more) in so great a tempest.  
Thou hast lost thy friend: No, he is but changed to a much better condition: he was before but thy friend made of earth; he is now thy friend composed of a divine and eternal substance: he was before an example for thy body( how thou mightest live well;) he is now a president for thy soul( how thou mayst die to live for ever well:) He was before thy comfort, let him now be thine admiration. If this be a cause of tears, then where is our rejoicing? Remember, destiny sends no man out of this world, nor lets any man live in this world, without some stroke: And poor is that wisdom, whose expectation is not armed with Patience, ever to encounter with that assault and combat.  
These afflictions truly considered, are Tributes, not Torments, & nothing alters either the nature or complexion, but an unthankful acceptation.   

CHAP. 10. A Cure against the loss of a Wife.  
doubtless this Philosophy( like a gentle lenitive) might suppling and mollify the agonies before shewed. But now a much greater torrent overflows thee, Thou hast lost thy Wife, self of thyself, flesh of thy flesh, thine own and onely dearest companion: Shee that is the Cabenet in which thou hast locked up thy vows; the roote out of which thou dost derive all thy goodly Branches; the honour of thy bed, and the crown by which thou shalt be held in reverence to all after posterity. Nay, thou hast lost a good wife; if this deserve not tears, then for ever hereafter let affliction no more bee name.  
I pray thee let me( with the Philosopher) ask thee thus question: Didst thou find her good? or make her good? wert thou beholden to Chance or Art; If to the first( beleeue it) that shop of Nature is never empty: and though amongst many parcels there bee much frayed, sullied and stained ware; yet is there still enough that is excellent and rich, and as able as the first to adorn thee. If to the latter thou be a debtor; what folly is in thee either to mourn or despair? for though the pattern bee lost, yet thyself and thine Art suruiueth, and from the like quantity thou mayst evermore fashion the like proportions; 'tis but one and the same labour: and unless industry tyre, hardly can the work run out of compass.  
But thou hast lost a good Wife. Tell me? into how many links was that chain of goodness divided? Thou wilt answer me▪ She was chased; so was Drusilla till Caius( her own brother) turned her to a Strumpet; so was Poppea, till extreme covetousness bewitched her; and so was Paulina, till the vows and oaths of a cardinal sent all virtue beyond her. O do but read the roman Stories, and you shall see how many chased Matrons Clodius seduced; and how many that had lived long with their Husbands in rare Reputation, fell at last by the lust of Scaurus Mamercus, and sold their Fames over to disgrace and Folly: to which injury, early-death is ever a prevention.  
But thine was modest: So no doubt was Xantippe, till pride and Socrates sufferance taught her to use and employ an audacious conquest; and so no doubt was the mother of Pauperius, till anger and her iealousy made her speak too loud to the Senate.  
But thine was loyal: so haue a world of others been. But fear hath tripped up the heels of some; Slander hath overthrown others; and Malice hath brought a world to a destroyed Reputation.  
It is true( most men are of opinion) that whatsoever is could and ignorant, must necessary be subject to inconstancy: and then women especially, because they are said to bee the Mistresses of all living things which are unskilful. Whence there is drawn a Conclusion, That no woman, how excellent so ever, can draw unto her Husband a settled and certain assurance of noble & constant perseverance.  
But this is a philosophicke Disputation: neither needeth the loss to draw any argument of disgrace vpon the general sex. There are presidents enough both of their virtues and Vices; their Constancies, and Inconstancies; of the happy and laudable continuance of noble contracts, and the unfortunate breaches and divorces of ancient & long coupled Matrimonies; there are Records sufficient, which speak of their vnyons and agreements: And there bee Tales in abundance, to tell of their brawls and dissensions. We need not go far for examples: for every Legend is full of young mens dislikes, and Old mens jealousies; of Great mens alterations, and mean mens imitations. A world of married beds, carry a world of unmarried Thoughts; and howsoever they walk coupled together in the streets; yet is there( many times) as large a distance as was twixt Lazarus and dives, between their affections: and howsoever the sun shine vpon the wedding day, yet there may bee many Gusts and storms ere the Vow come to the half way of performance. And therefore why shouldst thou drown thyself in tears, for that which is subject to so short and so sudden an alteration?  
But thine was Good, was chased, was Modest, was loyal, and would so haue continued ever if she had lived: shee was one that stood vpon her virtue, not her blood: shee was not in love with herself, but thee: shee was well brought up, and never so much as once tainted with any object of ill example: she had no commandements but thine to rule her; neither could she endure either jewel or apparel which had the least variation from her own certain estate and Calling: shee loved ever to keep that house over her head, whose foundation was deep in the earth, and not bee hurried thorough the streets in a Leather-Cart with four wheels, and taking a view of all men with as great liberty, as if shee gazed vpon her Husband: she respected a fit train to guard her, not a throng or crowd to admire her. No, shee was innocent and free from all these dissolutions, and so free would haue lived continually, and dyed happily.  
For this Hope or Assurance ( howsoever thou please to baptize it) thou art onely beholden to Death, and to no other Information; he onely gives thee boldness to maintain it: for by his power( alone) is taken away all power that can either work in her Change, or in thee a suspicion. Shee must now be as good as thou canst conceive her: for( by the favour of Death) shee hath overflown all Detraction, all Temptation; and wilt thou repined & murmur at this beholdingnesse? take heed lest it bring thee within the list of Ingratitude.  
To conclude, whether shee bee good, virtuous, chased, modest or loyal, yet so mitigate and calm thy lamentation, that men may not( through the abundance of unnecessary sorrow) question, whether thou weepest for thy wife, or some other diasaster: So remember thyself to be a Husband, that in no wise thou mayst forget thou art a man: discretion in these affairs shows princely and magnificent. A good mother, or a good sister,( lost by Death) are things unrecoverable: and wouldest thou imagine, that good wives haue a greater privilege? O no, they are women; and so but accessary goods, and reckene● like the unicorn or the Phoenix, which though a man hunt after never so seriously, yet shall he hardly▪ find above one in all his life time. Therefore having found her, keep her with thy best care, & when thou shalt bee compelled by the necessity of Destiny to forsake her, crown her memory with thy love, and her tomb with a moderate and modest lamentation. Neither despair of a second choice; for many haue bewailed the first, yet found the next of as large( if not a greater) extent in virtue. They are gifts from above; use thy best wisdom in election, and thy best care in preventing ill example: and then, as noble Sir Philip Sidney writes, 
— leave the rest  
To Fortune, Time, Wit,  
and a Womans breast.     

The third Receipt.  

CHAP. 11. A Cure against Contempt, and the Occasions: And first, of Contempt in general.  
OF all the cruelties which Fortune can exercise vpon man, there is none appeareth with a more rough or deformed a countenance, nor breeds more affright to the soul, or torment to the mind, then that of Contempt: for when a man hath numbered all the miseries which can fall vpon him( in this life,) he shall find none more Bitter or Gnawing, then that of Contempt: and thence it is said, that The greatest Affliction, is to survive Reputation; and the most infinite Folly, to put it in any Hazard of Losing.  
It was noted for an admirable modesty and wisdom in Ariosto, that having been the onely Companion, Schoole-fellow, play-mate, and Bed-fellow to lo the tenth, yet after he came to the Popedom, never once attempted his favour, or urged him in any suit; but keeping still the countenance and grace of his eyes, contented himself with his own fortunes, and his own revenues, lest by ascending any higher station,( and knowing the great numbers of better deservers, which expected aduancement) he might( by a slight repulse) lose that estimation, which( howsoever unprofitable) the world yet held in reverence.  
In Games and Masteries( as in the old Olimpicks, and other Trials of Honor) there is not one prise or crown alone, but many; and he that cannot win the first, may hope the second, or the third: but in this Game or goal of virtue and faire life, he that gets not the first,( which is Reputation) loses, or little profits by all the rest: for instantly Contempt takes him, and the golden chain( which knit him and his good hopes together) is broken in pie●es, and the whole course of his life after, is but falling and declining: but thou fearest to be contemned; and even that fear doth shake thee.  
It is true, that fear is a malignant and hurtful passion, engendered by Amazement and Doubt; which by a troublesone offence in the soul, driveth the blood from the heart, & makes the whole Body faint and coward. It is a passion base and effeminate, yet furious and sudden: for when it strikes vpona yielding subject, it strikes home, and the Life or Sences are ever in hazard. It is said, that one of the Dukes of burgundy took his death( with fear) at the sight of the nine Worthies,( shewed him by a Magician.) And diuers( in our own memories) we haue known, that haue run mad with the like apprehension: and though No man ought to fear, what must necessary happen; yet daily wee see it is the fault of uncorrected Natures.  
fear( saith Seneca) is without love, and therefore of all high spirits to be forsaken: and yet for all this, and though fear were much worse then any description can make it, there are always two fears allowable within us; the one against Detractors, the other against Gods judgements; the first thou mayst prevent by doing nothing which might make thee contemptible amongst men; and the latter thou mayest lessen, by carrying before God a clear and unburdened conscience.  
But thou fearest Contempt; let the manner of thy life be honest, let not the corrupt conditions of Times breed inward Impostumes in thee; let not the estate of thy worldly affairs, draw thee from thy business with God; let not Honors change thy virtuous Manner, nor great power convert to greater covetousness; and then beleeue it, all good men will do thee reverence; and for the contempt of the wicked, it is an honourable exaltation.   

CHAP. 12. A Cure against want of Strength, being an Occasion of Contempt.  
but now thou dost not fear Contempt, but art contemned; I pray thee declare, from what ground springs that assurance? thou answerest me, From Want of Strength; thou art not powerful or able of Body, but weak and feeble: Nature hath been niggardly unto thee, and not given thee force like other men.  
Doth this displease thee? art thou for this perplexed and grieved? rather rejoice and bee glad; for weakness is not clearness; nor want of strength, impotence: every man is not born like Samson, to carry a Cities gates on his back: Some are born for the Warres, some for the Court, and some for study. look thou into the composition and Strength of thy mind; and if that promise thee a fruitful harvest, thou hast strength able enough to contend against many Armies. advice is a Rampire of earth, Force but a wall of ston; the first gathers strength by others fury; the latter fals assoon as it is shaken. Tully got as much honour with his wit, in preserving Rome against the conspiracy of Catiline, as Caesar had done in two and fifty Battels, Marcellus in forty, and Scipio in taking an hundred and two and fifty towns.  
But thou art subject to injury, every one may tread vpon thee; thou must endure this mans scorn, that mans slander, and the others buffets: thou must either fear all, or flatter all: thou must either bee a mole & live alone without comfort, or else an ass, to carry every unworthy burden. But thou art deceived, and in stead of sighing that thou art subject to injury, thou shouldst rejoice, that( by reason of thy weakness) thou canst not do injury. do we not see old men walk in the streets without Guards, children pass by the mighty, and receive reverence; and do wee not see( commonly) the most weak and feeble, keep( as it were) in chains and gives, the most strong and valiant? The laws of all civil Nations are thy sinews; the Sword of the Magistrate, thy bones; and thine own wisdom, hands to put one or both at any time in to execution. Therfore supply the weakness of thy Body, with the strength of thy mind; learn wisdom, and pursue it, for it shalbe unto thee a Tower against all adversity.  
A wise man( saith the best moral master) cannot receive wrong, he hath so many Atmors of proof●… against it, neither is he●… subject to the motions o●… Anger, nor can by anothers malice bee moved he never entangles himself with miseries, no●… stands in need of strength or passion, either to preserve his Body, or perform his duty: he is not ambitious; for he hath ever al●… Contentments in his bosom, and he knows both when, how, and to whom to do those noble offices of friendship, which shal●… still preserve him both from hate and disgraces▪ Take unto thee then this companion, and thou needest not fear to encounter with a twofold goliath.   

CHAP. 13. A Cure against want of greatness, being an Occasion of Contempt.  
NOw besides this weakness of Body, thou wantest the greatness and Dignity of place; thou holdest an vnder-fortune, and bearest a low sail, whereas those which are great, and live in admiration of the people: they sit high as on the tops of Turrets, and seem to be companions with the sun, the moon, and all the rest of the celestial Bodies.  
O fool! do not torment thyself with these visions; for what( alas!) is all worldly greatness? or whither doth it tend? examine all the great ones of the world, especially those who haue run out the whole course of their lives in hunting after this vapour or Shadow; they, whose thoughts anchoring wholly vpon the earth, can haue no hopes, but such as are earthy: and these will tell thee, that greatness is nothing but an huge mountain of vanity; the assent whereto is sharp and slippery, the top shaking, and the downfall dreadful: he that goes up, finds difficulty in the passage,( for fear is both his Guard and Guide) and he which descends, fals into an abyss, where onely shane cleaves to his memory. It is a thing so vain and frail, that when it seems to glister and sparkle like Diamonds, even then it vanishes out of our sight, and either breaks like glass, or melts like ye, against the beams of Misfortune.  
Excellently is it said by that divine Trumpet, whatsoever is under heaven, is nothing but vanity, and that the world passeth away with his covetousness. Which granted, O where is then the benefit of thy greatness? Bee wise then, and draw into thy consideration, that the earth is not thy dwelling house, but thine inn; a place where onely thou lodgest for a night in thy journey to Eternity: think that all Pleasures, Delights, and Contentations which cluster about greatness in this world, or adorn their rooms, are but motives and Obligations to bind them to look and provide for much richer Ornaments in the world to come. For it is a thing absurd in Reason, and irksome to Nature, to go forth of a faire and goodly House, and to enter for ever into a foul and loathsome Cottage: This mediocrity is the best greatness; love onely it, and be happy.   

CHAP. 14. A Cure against want of preferment, being an occasion of Contempt.  
IT may be, thou agreest with me in this, that thou respectest not so much this unreasonable greatness, as thou dost a competent and fit preferment. But thou hast no aduancement in the State; thou hast no Sphere or range above the earth whereon thou treadest. Nay, thou seest many thine inferiors, men both of under deserts, and under qualities, who are advanced, and preferred many Stations beyond thee: thou seest them swim in wealth, ruffle in authority, draw all eyes to gaze vpon them, and haue little petty Armies of their own dependents, to guard both before and behind them. This is offensive to thee: this draws grief to thy Heart, and bitterness to thy soul, when thou comparest other mens glories and wealths with thine own misfortunes; yet all this is but an envious Folly: for to judge a man by his wealth, or his means, were to judge an Horse by his Trappings, or an ass by his burden; and many times to attribute that to the Beast, which indeed belongeth onely to the Goddesse Isis.  
Was there ever any man so absurd as to envy the Kings Exchequer, because it doth cover his coin, or can a man bear malice to a Rich mans Coffer, because it hides his Bags? Beleeue it, such and no other are men of preferment in this age: for that man whom thou supposest to be the master of all this felicity and wealth, is but the poor Cap-case which carries it for a much better mans employment.  
I, but his preferments haue made him so infinitely rich, that howsoever other men fleece him, yet he will still keep a Staple sufficient both to cloath and make warm his body. If it bee so, then look into his disposition, and tell me; Is he covetous or prodigal? If he be covetous, thou canst not say he hath any thing; for that covetousness hath deprived him of command, and made him a slave to his Riches. Nay, it takes all thankfulness from him, and makes him guilty of ingratitude. If he be prodigal, thou mayst assure thyself he shall haue nothing; for that channel will quickly convey all to the common Ocean.  
I but he shall haue his delights; he shall haue his contentment. No, nothing so: Preferments are ever environed with cares, with fears, with Doubts, with envies. He which sits vpon that tottering stool, sighs often, grieves deeply, suspects always, and is certain never.  
I but yet for all this he hath admiration in the world. The gazing multitude crowd about him: the better sort attend him: and the best in their protestations seem to love him. This doubtless is true: and to knit up or bind all these three together, thou mayst( with as great a truth) affirm, that all in one do but flatter him. do not flies follow Honey; wolves, Carrion; and Ants, wheat? even so do these the man which sits in preferment. It is their own prey they hunt, not his profit; their own aduancement, not the exaltation of his virtue; and if he ascend, they can bee content to clamber after. But if he descend, they seek how to fix fast their own feet, and( many times with scorn) look how and in what manner he falleth.  
To conclude: if thou wilt not haue thy virtue at any time to strike against this dangerous rock of Contempt, apply thy thoughts to noble and honest actions, according to the rank and degree, wherein no counterfeit, but true virtue hath placed thee. Let the issue of one good design, be the entry into another, make order both thy Prince and mistress. Be Good, be Wise, bee Valiant, bee merciful, and then no doubt but thou shalt live beloved, preferred, and die happy.    

The fourth receipt.  

CHAP. 15. Being a Cure against inward pain, and the occasions: and first of pain in general.  
howsoever I labour to recover and cure the mind of these old rotting and increasing ulcers; yet still thine infection groweth new and more amply augmenteth, and now thou hast found a disease past help, past sufferance: thou art vexed with pain, inward pain; pain of the mind and Spirits; pain fixed vpon a part so tender and quick of sense, that the very anguish thereof spreads thorough the whole body, and thou art now racked, Tormented, and Broken vpon the wheel with all manner both of inward and outward vexations.  
It is true; I will allow thee in this case some little amazement, which for a poor minute may look like Distraction: but I cannot afford thee so much grief, as to witness thy pain to bee greater then thy wisdom: thou mayst take to thyself a liberty to change thy countenance, but not to alter thy Discretion: and thou mayst( from some weaknesses) suffer pain to extort from thee cries and acclamations: But thou canst not from any soundness in Iudgement, allow it any Toleration to disclose Secrets: thou mayst so feel it, as to know a difference betwixt it, and perfect health: but not so entertain it, as by an interposition it may draw any cloud or darkness, between thee and thy virtue.  
The stoics held pain onely to bee an opinion, and rather to abuse the mind by an imagination, then any real or true feeling: And questionless, to a noble and truly high Spirit, these flames or great lights of pain, are but like those of the Glowe-Wormes, which howsoever a weak Iudgement may shun or fear to handle; yet a knowing experience boldly takes it up, and places it either in his hand, or any other part, without sense of astonishment. Seuola, when he thrust his hand into the fire: Cleopatra, when she laid the Aspis to her breast; the holy Martyrs, which sung and reioyst in the very height of all bodily afflictions, could never haue written Dulce quia Sponte, if their mindes had not carried them far beyond the feeling of all mortal vexations. Aspasia, that smiled vpon Alexander whilst her childrens throats were in cutting: Hannibal that laughed outright, when both Carthage and his own honor lay bleeding: and Croesus, that when he had lost both the beauty of wealth, and the glory of a kingdom, was able to teach Cyrus the happiness of a contented retirement. All these are instances unto us, to show, how free every noble and worthy spirit should bee from these flegmaticke and weak apprehensions of inward tribulations.  
But thou answerest me, None will, none can resist the fury of pain and Torment: and I reply, To say thou wilt not, is womannish; to say thou canst not, is childish: for look by how much man would( falsely) seem to bee too weak to endure pain, by double so much is pain truly too weak to withstand Reason; call that power up to assist thee, take thy direction from it, and not from vulgar and multitude Opinion, and it will declare unto thee, that all pain whatsoever, is but like a Mole or spot vpon the cheek, which by a true application, may as well be taken for a Beauty,( as that on the cheek of Venus) as a deformity,( as that on the face of Thersites.) It will tell thee, it is thy familiar and companion, not a bugbear or Stranger; a thing which thou broughtest with thee to the world; a thing thou canst not forsake in the world, and the onely thing that must infranchise and set thee free from all the miseries and perplexities of the world. It will tell thee, that pain is nothing else, but an indulgent parent, to nourish thee up in pious thoughts; a skilful Master, to teach thee the happy art of Sufferance, a discreet Tutor to correct thy vices, and the onely Guide that can bee found to lead thee thorough the great Maze and Labyrinth of the vanities of this world, to the eternal joys of all true felicity.  
But O! this pain is a tedious thing; it hath no mean or moderation in the working; it is an enemy to Meditation and good thoughts, and is indeed so far from all peace and quietness, that it rather fills the head and heart with frenzy and despair, then either with a fruitful Hope, or a feeding charity. but thou art deceived, pain is not tedious, but thou art effeminate; there is in it no manner of Terror, there is onely in thee a Resolution of niceness: there is in it nothing to affright, there is only in thee a weak nature to be afraid. Hunger is satisfied with bread and milk: Adam complained of no could, when his body was clothed but with figleaves: Thirst hath need to search no further then the first fountain; nor indeed is there any other pain, which finds not out a quick and a sudden Remedy: custom, curiosity, and our own opinions are ever the false Messengers, which make our afflictions more huge and monstrous then Nature created them: so that but correct the tenderness of thine own will, and presently thou shalt find pain to vanish in a moment.  
I, but thou findest few which are able to follow these prescriptions; few or none can endure pain: then make thyself one of that little number. lions, Eagles, every noble Beast and bide feed and fly alone: they are sheep, goose, & daws, that flock and herd together. Be rather of wisdoms little Band, then of Follies great army. But thou wilt answer me, That the weakness of thy nature, makes thy will a slave to thy Torment: come, neither abuse nor defame Nature; for shee hath created al men strong and valiant: it is custom and Education which make Cowards; live according to thy creation: suffer nor the severity of Rule, and other mens Opinions, to infect thee, and then beleeue it, these feelings, these affrights, these tremblings at pain will never come near thee: thou shalt then need neither to labour thy wits for avoiding it, nor tyre thy limbs in flying away from it: thou shalt then know, that to run away from pain, is to meet pain; and that the more thou striuest to shake it off, the more it cleaves unto thee, and more strong are the embracements. It is an insulting enemy, where it finds a fearful opponent; and therefore face it, and outface it; be as careless of its power, as others are careful to make it powerful, and like a fearful Hare, it will fly from thy presence: for as nothing, like unto niceness feeds it, so nothing, like Contempt, is able to abate or destroy it.   

CHAP. 16. A Cure against Sorrow, Cares, &c. being an occasion of pain.  
AFter all the war and contention which thou hast held against the misery of these Misfortunes, thou yet feelest another, which is more bitter and unpleasant, then any that haue gone before it, and that is Sorrow, grief, or heaviness of heart, which according to the most general received opinion, is nothing else, but A Passion of the soul, which ariseth from a discontent shee receiveth from objects contrary to her inclination, which present themselves unto the Senses, and afflict them: and with this Sorrow, or heaviness of heart, thou art now tormented. But let it not deceive thy iudgment; examine the cause well, and try, if it be worthy of thine anguish: for there are two sorts of sorrows, a greater and a less: one that liveth in the Body, another that liveth in the mind.  
That sorrow which liveth in the Body, and is both moved, and moveth the same, is not so powerful and terrible, as the other: and therefore are entitled by the name of Slight sorrows, or Slight Cares; which if they get any Dominion or Rule over thee, chide thy weak nature which entertained them: and with a brave sufferance make the world know that the burden is light and easy: call Patience unto thee, shee is ever a ready and an easy guest to a wiseman: shee craves not much diligence to attend her: nor is at any time so troublesone, but that shee may with much pleasantness bee supported: take her counsel, she will teach thee how to suffer, how to do: she will tell thee how to bear all things, both Pro, A and Propter, both for thyself and others, of thyself and others, and because of thyself and others: she hath ever could water enough to quench the hottest flames that Sorrow can kindle, and shee will tell thee that it is a wretched victory which overcomes the soul, and makes it a slave to inward vexation.  
Sorrow is neither profitable to thyself, nor to them for whom thou dost sorrow: it is absurd to sorrow for things which are past help, and mere childishness to spend our grief vpon a neglecting subject, that we must sorrow for,( as death) never sorrows for us again; and then what greater foolishness then thus to spend lamentation? again, look by how much thou art greater either in Place, authority, renown, or virtue: by so much the less thou shouldst express grief for any worldly misadventure: for unreasonable Sorrow is a true Character of cowardice: and where that weakness grows, the fruit it brings forth, is onely scorn, and dis-reputation.  
But thy Sorrow is no slight Sorrow; it hath a deep Roote, and a strong Foundation; it is fixed to thy Heart, and hath taken up thy mind for a perpetual habitation: if it be so, it is thy greater glory to subdue it; it is pleasant to hunt Deere; but Princely to conquer lions. Take unto thyself the exercise of Noble and worthy things, and beleeue it, thou shalt find that sorrow will quickly vanish. Nailes are driven out by Nailes, and the fury of Sorrow is easily expelled with the strength of wisdom. Do but take into thy consideration the miserable effects which spring from sorrow: as first, the quenching of the Spirit( making it uncapable either to search or find out truth) the solitariness of the life ( accounting all society irksome) the hating of the light( as if the sun did manifest every private imagination,) the misapplication of all manner of comforts and the diseases; nay, the deaths which succeed these inward afflictions, and no doubt but thou wilt quickly bee weary of so insolent and troublesone a neighbour: Therefore to merit quickly, truly, soundly, be sure to lessen and abate the strength of the opinion which thou holdest in it: for indeed Sorrow is nothing else but merely opinion: which when at any time thou shalt either blunt with Reason, or bend with Discourse & inward Disputation; suddenly thou shalt see all his anguish depart, and wisdom filling up the room, will make all things appear pleasant and wholesome. And to conclude, howsoever Time may bee allowed for a physician in this case; yet it is Reason only, which must make the cure perfect.   
FINIS.