‘IHS’

AN INTRODVCTION TO A DEVOVTE LIFE

COMPOSED IN FRENCHE By the R. Father in God, FRANCIS SALES, Bishop of Geneua AND TRANSLATED IN TO ENGLISH, By I. Y.

By IOHN HEIGHAM, With Permission 1613.

TO THE RIGHT VIRTVOVS GENTLE­WOMAN MISTRIS ANNE ROPER, DAVGHTER TO THE RIGHT WORSHIPFVLL SIR WILLIAM ROPER, OF WELL-HALL IN ELTHAM.

THIS excellent sum­marie of spirituall life (Right worshipfull and trulie Religious) hath gained so great credit with all deuout minds, for the excee­ding profit and delight which they haue found by perusing [Page 4] it: that no booke whatsoeuer hath been in so short a time, so often, and in so manie places re­printed; none by so manie men, and those of so great iudgement, and in such varietie of bookes treating of the same subiect, so much commended▪ Litle indeed it is in quantitie, but in substan­ce, and effect, (as I may say) infi­nite. Like the philosophers stone, which being but small in bignes, and not verie beautifull in shew, conteineth in it the seedes of all metalls, & with the onely touch, changeth baser metalls into the soueraignest of all, which is gold, the sole gouernour now, of this iron world. For euen so truly not onely in my iudgement, (which in these heaueuly mat­ters reacheth but low) but in the iudgement of great diuines, and [Page 5] very holy men, th [...]re hath not come out any abridgement of deuotion like this, conteining so copiouslie in few leaues, so plain­lie in sweet language, so profita­blie and aptlie for practize of all men, the rules and instruction of spirituall perfection, nor so pre­gnant in efficacie, to conuert the iron affections of our soules, into the golden virtue of charitie, and true deuotion the queene of vir­tues, that enamoureth God him self with her heauenlie beautie. This made me desirous to peruse it carefully, for the bettering of my owne soule; and to translate it painfully, for the benefit of manie soules in our poor distres­sed countrie: which more then any other countrie, standeth in need of such good bookes, for counter poisons against so manie [Page 6] venemous writings, as worldly and fantasticall heads daylie pu­blishe. This also made me so bold, as to dedicate the booke, and my labour, taken in transla­ting of it, vnto your good selfe: as a treatise likely to be most pleasing to that excellent dispo­sition which inclineth your mind to all holie & virtuous exercises: and an argument almost proper and peculiar, to the feruent zeale of Gods glorie, descending vnto you, and all your worthy familie by inheritance, and naturall affe­ction receaued from your glo­rious progenitour, that excellent true states-man, & learned coun­cellour, englands honour, faithes zealous champion, and Christs constant martyr, SIR THOMAS MOORE, your great grand-fa­ther. His admirable virtues may [Page 7] easilie persuade any man, that you neither would nor could de­generate from so liuelie a pater­ne: and your deuout and vir­tuous life, doth as easilie proue you to be descended from that faire roote, by so goodly braun­ches as your worshipfull father and grand-father; of whome as you haue taken the worthines of your bloud, so haue you learned their pietie and godlines, which maketh you delight in nothing so much, as in the practize of deuotion and Christian perfe­ction. This I say, makes me so hardie as to desire you to ac­cept of this my labour, and not onely to patronize it with your title, as a thing vowed to your seruice: but also at your best lea­sure to read it, and practize it; that so I may be, not onely repayed by [Page 8] your courteous acceptāce of my good will, but likewise be parta­ker of those spirituall ioyes, and increase of pietie, which I doubt not but you will reap out of this fertil field of deuotion: which is the principall fruict that in this my poor labour, I desire to haue, generally in all deuout soules that shall read this book, and more particularlie in yours; to whome I dedicate it, and my self, to re­maine allwayes,

Your seruant in our Lord and Sauiour Christ Iesu, I. Y.

A DEDICATORY prayer of the Authour.

O Svveet Iesu, my Lord, my Sauiour, and my God: be­hold heere prostrate before thy di­uine maiestie, I entitle and conse­crate this vvriting vnto thy glory; giue spirit and life vnto these lines by thy heauenly blessing, that those soules for vvhome I vvrote them, may in reading these vvords, re­ceaue the sacred inspiratiōs, vvhich I vvishe thē: & particularlie may be moued to implore thy diuine mercie for me: that shevving vnto other the vvay of deuotion in this vvorlde, I become not a reprobate myself in the vvorld to come; but [Page 10] to gether with all thy deuout soules, vvho shall profit by this labour of mine, I may ioyfully sing that tri­umphant song of the blessed Saints in heauen, vvhich amidst the daungers of this mortall life I pro­nounce from my hart as a testimo­nie of my faith and fidelitie; Life and glorie to my Lord and Sauiour Iesus; euen so svveete Iesu, liue and raigne graciously and gloriously in our soules for euer, and euer. Amen.

MY DEARE READER, I beseeche thee to reade this Preface for thy satisfaction and myne.

1. THE Paynim historians report of a mayden called Glycera, greatly delighted in making of nosegayes, who could so fitly and properly varie and chaunge the disposition and min­gling of the sweet flowers in her posies, that with the self same flowers, she would frame manie diuers kinds of no­segayes; in so much that the painter Pausias came short of his cunning, stri­uing as it were by emulation to expres­se the varietie of her flower-workes, for he could not chaunge his colours into so many fashions in his pictures, but Gly­cera would find more by a new maner of placing of her flowers in her nosegaies. Euen so doth the holy Ghost dispose and [Page 12] order with enterchaungeable varietie the instructions of deuotion which he geueth by the tongues and pennes of his seruaunts; that the doctrine which they teache being one, and the self same: the discourse notwithstanding which they make, and in which they deliuer his do­ctrine do much differre, according to the diuersitie of methods, & fashions (that I may so say) in which they be couched and composed. I cannot therfore, neither ought I, or would I, in any sort write in this introduction, any thing but that, which hath been alreadie published by our learned predecessours concerning this matter; they be the self same flowers that I present vnto thee (gentle reader) which diuers before me haue offered vnto thy view but the nosegay which I haue framed of them, is of a different fashion from theirs, as being handled in another forme, and wrought after another manner.

2. Those that haue treated of deuotion before me, haue allmost all attended onely to the instruction of persons all­together retired from worldly conuersa­tion; or at the least haue taught a forme of deuotion, which properly and prin­cipally directeth and tendeth to that retired state of life. But my intention is particularly and principally to in­struct such as liue in cities and townes, busied with the affaires of their hous­hold, or forced by their place and calling to folow their princes court; such as by the obligation of their estate, are bound to take a common course of life in out­ward shew, and exteriour proceeding; vvhich kind of persons for the most part of them, vnder colour of a see­ming, or pretended impossibilitie, will not so much as once thinke vpon the vndertaking of a deuout life: persua­ding them selues, that as no beast (yf we may beleeue the naturalists) dare [Page 14] tast of the seed of the hearbe called pal­ma Christi, so no man ought to ende­uour to obtaine the palme of Christian pietie, so long as he liueth in the presse of temporall occupations. To these men do I demonstrate: that as the mother pear­les doe liue in the sea, not taking one drop of salt-water into their shelles; & towards the Chelidonian Islands there be fountaines of sweet water in the middest of the brackish sea; and a small kind of flie called Pycaustes borne and bred in hot burning ouens and furnaces, flies in the flames without scorching her wings: so a vigourous and constant hart may liue in the world, and yet not par­ticipate of the vaine humours of the world; may find out fresh springs of sweete deuotion, in the midst of the brinish waters of temporall affaires; & may flie without harme among the fla­mes of earthly occupations, and yet not burne nor seare the wings of holy desires [Page 15] which lifte vp a deuout soule to hea­uen, although the bodie necessarily, tread vpon earthen mould. True it is in deed, that this is a thing of some difficultie: but therfore would I desire that many men would employ their cares in the attaining of so high à thing with more zeale then ordinarilie they doe, and they should find it not so vneasie as they imagine it. My self, weak and feeble as I am, haue endeuoured by this wor­ke, to cōtribute something of mine owne cost, toward the helping of such, as with a noble hart will vndertake this en­terprize.

3. Yet notwithstanding this present desire of mine, it was neither by mine owne choice nor liking, that this intro­ductiō came to the publique vew of the world. A certaine frind of mine, en­dewed indeed with true honour and virtue, hauing some good while recea­ued the grace of God, to aspire vnto a [Page 16] deuout life; requested my particu­lar ayde & assistaūce in this kind: & I being many wayes obliged vnto him, and hauing long before noted in him à singular good disposition for this matter, easily suffered my self to be ouer-intreated by him, and too­ke great care in teaching him to my power; & hauing conducted him through all the exercizes, which I thought conuenient to his holy desire, and agreeable to his estate, I left him in writing for to help his memory these few rules, that he might haue re­course to them when so euer he needed. Since which time he communicated them, vnto a great, learned, & deuout person, who esteeming them so profitable that many other might reape commodi­tie by them, did earnestly exhort me to publishe thē: and easie was it for him to persuade me, because his loue had great power ouer my will, & his iudgement [Page 17] had great authoritie ouer mine.

4. Wherfore, that it might be more acceptable, I haue tooke a review of it, enterlacing many things in diuers places, and adioyning some aduices and instructions, fit for the purpose which before I sayd that I entend: and all this haue I done, hauing all most no leasure at all to spare. For which cause look here for no exact or curious discources: but onely a plaine heape of good aduertisments, simplie and nakedly set downe and declared in easie and intelligible woords: at least wise I desired so to doe. As for the adorning of the stile and language, I could not so much as think of it, as hauing other things enough to doe.

5. All my words throughout the book are addressed to Philotheus. For my intention being to reduce to the com­mon good many soules, that which I [Page 18] had first writt for one onely: I think I may fitly vse that name which is cōmō to all such which wil be deuout and di­ligēt in gods seruice: for Philotheus is as much to say as a louer of God.

6. Therfore in all the treatise, laying before my consideration a soule which by exercise of deuotion aspireth to the loue of God: I haue deuided this intro­duction into fiue parts. In the first, I en­deuour by persuasions and peculiar exer­cizes, to allure and winne the wille of my Philotheus, to an entire and fir­me resolution of liuing well: which he maketh at length after a generall con­fession, with a round and sound prote­station, seconded by the receauing of the holy communion, in which giuing vp his soule vnto his sauiour, he receaues his sauiour into his soule, and so entreth happelie into the retreat and closet of his heauenly loue, That done, to lead him farther on, I shew him two speciall [Page 19] meanes how to vnite him self more & more euery day vnto his diuine maje­stie: the one, the vse of the sacramēts, by which our good God commeth vnto vs: the other, the exercize of holy prayer, wherby he draweth vs vnto him self: and in this I spend the second part. In the third, I set before his eyes, how he may exercise him selfe in such virtues as be fit and conuenient for his profit & aduancement: in which yet I onely bu­sie my penne, in laying together some particular aduices which I thought he could hardly haue had of another, or found out of him self. In the fourth part, I discouer the embushments and lur­king dennes of his enemies, shewing him how he may escape their snares, & deliuer him self frō their enticemēts, that so he may goe forward without hindraunce in his worthie enterprize. In the fift and last part, I teach him to with draw him self as it were from [Page 20] other ordinarie exercises to the cabinet of his soule, to refreshe his weerie deuo­tions, and renew his holy purposes, taking breath as it were, and repairing his forces, that he may afterward cou­rageously get ground & aduaunce him self in his iourney to perfectiō & deuotiō.

7. Well do I see in this curious age of ours, that many will say, it apper­taineth to religious votaries, to vnder­take the particular guidaunce of soules, vnto this singular exercise of pietie, which requireth more leasure then a Bishop can well spare, charged with a diocese so heauie as mine is; that these deuout instructiōs too much distract the vnderstanding, which should be em­ploied in affairs of greater importaunce. But as for me, to speak what I thinck, I say (deere reader) with great S. Denis that it appertaineth principally to Bis­hops to conduct the soules committed to their charge vnto perfection: since their [Page 21] ranck and order is supreme among men, as is the order of Seraphins among the quyres of Angels; so that their leasure cannot be better spent, then about such busines. The aunciēt Bishops & fathers of the church were at the least as much affectioned to their charge, as wee: yet letted they not for all that to vndertake the particular care of guiding many sou­les, which singulary had recourse vnto their assistaūce, as it appeareth by their epistles. And heerin they imitated the Apostles them selues, who in the mid­dest of the generall haruest of all the world, gathered notwithstāding many times with peculiar care and affection, certaine notable scattered eares of corne; not onely contented to tye the vvhole sheafs of wheat, but also not disdaining euen to gleane, as they say, where they perceiued any remarkable soule, that in particular offered it self to their [...]are. Who knovveth not that [Page 22] Timotheus, Philemon, Onesimus, Thecla, and Appia were the deare children of the great S. Paule? as S. Marck and S. Petronilla of S. Peter? S. Petronilla I say, who (as Baronius learnedly proueth, Gallonius folowing him) was not the naturall daughter, but onely the ghostly child of S. Peter. And S. Iohn the beloued disciple of our Lord, writeth he not one of his cano­nicall epistles vnto a deuout Ladie, whome for her pietie he calleth electa, the elect, and chosen ladie?

8. It is a painfull charge I confesse, to take the particular care of soules, and conduct them in such singular manner in the way of perfection; but as painfull as it is, it bringeth withall excessiue comfort: much like vnto the painfull toile of thriftie husbandmen in time of haruest and vintage, who are neuer more merry, then when their hands are most full of such labours. It is a [Page] burden which recreateth and reuiueth the hart of him that is loaden with it, through the abundāce of delight which floweth from it: as the bundles of Cin­namom vvith sweet and recreatiue odour comforteth those that carie them through the boiling sands of Arabia. They report of the Tygre, that hauing recouered one of her whelpes (which the craftie hunts-man leaueth in the way, to busie her with all while he caries away the rest of the litter) she taketh it vp presently be it neuer so great, and finds her self neuer a whit the heauier or slower, but rather lighter and swifter in her course, naturall loue as it were lightening her with her very loade. How much more willingly then will a fatherly hart take vpon him the charge of a soule, which he finds all melting with desire of holy perfe­ction? vvhy should he not most care­fully bear such a soule in his bosom (as I [Page 24] may say) like as a louing mother doth her litle child, being neuer weary of cariyng the burthen which she loueth so entirely? But it must be indeed a fatherly hart that vndertakes so toil­some a taske: and for that cause the Apostles and Apostolique men, doe call their disciples not only their children, but with a terme of more tender affe­ction, their litle children.

9. To conclude (gentle reader) I confesse that I write of deuotion, being my self without deuotion, yet truly not without an earnest desire of attai­ning therunto. And this very desire is that which hath giuen me courage to vndertake to instruct thee in the way to deuotion. For, as a great learned man sayd, it is a good meanes to become laarned, for a man to studie hard: a better, to heare a learned maister: but the best of all to teach another. And it often commeth to passe (saith S. Aug. [Page 25] writing to his deuout Florentin) that the office of distributing to o­thers, serueth vs as a merit to re­ceaue the same things our selues: and the office of teaching, beco­mes a foundation of learning. The great Alexander, caused his louely Compaspe to be pictured by the pencill of the famous Appelles: who forced by often reflexion to contemplate wishfully Compaspes perfection, as he drew the lineaments of her faire bodie vpon his table, so imprinted he withall the loue of her beautie in his hart, and became so passionatly enamoured of her, that A­lexander perceauing it, & pitiyng his case, gaue him her in marriage, depri­uing him self for his sake, of the dearest loue he had: shewing heerin (as Plinie iudgeth) the greatnes of his hart more plainly, then by any bloudie victory ouer a puissant enemie. I persuade my self that it is the will of God, that I should [Page 26] procure in the best colours that I am able, to paint the formes of beautifull virtues vpon the harts of those which are committed to my charge, and espe­cially the beautifull virtue of Deuotion, most amiable and acceptable in his di­uine eyes. And I vndertake the office willingly, as well to obey, and per­forme my duty, as for the hope I haue, that engrauing this louely virtue in the minds of other men, mine owne perhaps may wholly be enamoured of the sweet­nes therof. And I doubt not, but yf euer his diuine maiestie perceaue my soule sincerely in loue with this beau­tifull virtue, he will bestowe her vpon me, in a happie marriage for euer. The faire and chast Rebecca watring Isaaks camels with a readie good will, was presently chosen to be his espouse, recea­uing out of hand in his name, pretious earings and golden braceletts, as pledges of his loue. So doe I persuade my self, [Page 27] through the boundlesse goodnes of my God, that carefully leading his beloued sheep to the wholsome waters of deuo­tion, he will make my poore soule his spouse, fastening in my eares the golden words of his holy loue, and binding on my wrists, force and vigour to practize them, in which consisteth the essence of true deuotion; which I humblie beseech his heauenly maiestie to bestow vpon me, and vpon all the obedient children of his holy church. To whose decrees & correction I do, and will, allway sub­mitt my writings, my actions, my words, my wills, and my thoughts. At Necy, on S. Mary Magdalens day, 1609.

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THE FIRST PART OF THE INTRODVCTION: Conteyning aduices and exercises requisite for the conduct of a soule from her very first desire of a deuout life, vntill she be brought to a full resolution to embrace it stedfastly in all her actions.

What a deuout life is. CHAPTER I.

1. YOV aspire to deuotion (my deere Philotheus) because being a good Christian you know that deuotiō is a virtue most amiable and acceptable to Gods diuine maiestie. But for so much as small faults cōmitted in the beginning of any affaire, in the progresse therof grow infinite, and in the end, become almost irreparable, and past all amende­ment: it is necessary before all things, [Page 29] that you learne what kind of virtue De­uotion is; for since there is but one manner of true deuotion, and many kindes of forged and false, yf you know not which is the true and sincere virtue that you seek after, you may very easily be deceaued, and entertaine your self with some impertinēt superstition, insteed of true and profitable deuotion.

2. Aurelius, a Romane painter, was wont to picture the faces of all the ima­ges which he made, to the likenes and resemblance of the wemen whome he loued: and so ordinarylie most men paint their deuotion, according to the passion or phantasie which predomina­teth in them. He that is giuē to fasting, holdeth him self for deuout enough, yf he fast often, be his hart neuer so full of rancour and malice: and not daring to moistē his tongue in wine or water, for feare of trāsgressing his affected so brie­tie, makes no difficultie at all, to suck the blood of his harmeles neighbour, by slaunderous backbiting, and detracting from his good name. Another will ac­count him self full of deuotion for hud­ling vp a multitude of prayers euery [Page 30] morning, allthough all day after his tongue neuer cease throwing foorth of way warde speaches, or arrogant and reproachefull taunts among his negh­bours & familiars. Some there be, that can very easilie pull an almes out of their putse to relieue a poore needie beg­gar, and therfore are esteemed deuout men, wheras they cannot find any sweet disposition in their hart to forgiue their enemies; or any readinesse to satisfie their creditours, vnlesse the force of law & the sergeants maze do cōstraine them. And yet are all these men in the deceiueable iudgemēt of the common people deemed deuout persons: though indeed they be very farre (God knowes) from true deuotion. The seruaunts of king Saule seeking for Dauid in his house, Michol his wife layde an idol in his bed, clothed in Dauids apparell, and made them beleeue it was her husband Dauid, sicklie and sleeping in his cham­ber: euen so do these men, couer them selues with certanie externall actions of seeming deuotiō, wheras in deed they are but vaine shadows, and idle Idols of deuotion.

3. True and liuely deuotion (my Phi­lotheus) presupposeth in our harts the loue of God: nay rather it is nothing els but a certain perfect and high degree of the true loue of God: for whē we cōsider the loue of God, as the thing that beau­tifieth our soules, and maketh them louely in the eyes of his maiestie, then do we call it heauēly grace: and because this self same loue of God, yf it be true and vnfained loue, giueth vs strength & force to do good workes, it is called charity: but when it growes to that de­gree of perfectiō, that it not only strēg­theneth vs to do well, but also vrgeth vs vehemently to do good works dili­gently, frequently, and feruently, then is it properly called deuotion. Austri­ches because of their monstrous wai­ghte, neuer flie in the ayre, but only run vpon the ground by help of their wings: Hennes flie sometimes in the ayre, but very seldom, and then also low and slowlie: but doues, & eagles soare aloft in the skies, with speedines, and de­light to see them selues farre from the ground, and nigh to the element: In like maner sinfull men, loaden with [Page 32] the burden of offences, flie not at all to God-ward, but make al their courses vpō earth, and for earthly delights: Good honest men, that endeuour to abstaine from mortall sinnes, but are not yet arriued to the hight of deuotion, flie to God with their actions and good deeds, but slowlie, and rarely, and in ordinarie things, as being hindred with the waight of their imperfections, and heauie winged thoughts frō higher ex­ercises. But deuout soules flie to God with swifte & nimble wings of holy af­fections, readilie, and feruourously, soa­ring & mounting higher and higher to the heauen of perfection. Briefly, deuo­tion, is nothing els but a spirituall swi­ftnes and nimblenes of loue, by which charitie worketh our actions in vs, or we by her, with readines of will, and alacritie of mind; And as it is the office of charitie, in what degree soeuer it be, to make vs keep the commandements of God generally and vniuersally: so is it the proper function of deuotion, to fullfill the commandemēts with prom­ptnes, feruour, and nimble vigour of our minds, as it were delighting, and [Page 33] reioycing in doing our dutie towards, God & man. Hence it is, that he which keepeth not the commandements of God, can neither be esteemed good, nor deuout: since to be good, he must be indued with charitie; and to be de­uout, it is not enough to haue any de­gree of charitie whatsoeuer, but besides he must haue a quick and readie affe­ctiō and habit of exercising the highest and perfectest actiōs of charitie: which readines of mind, is the true virtue of deuotion.

4. Deuotion then consisteth in a cer­taine degree of excellent charitie, ma­king vs prompt and readie, not onely in the keeping of Gods commande­ments: but besides that, it prouoketh vs to doe with ioy and delight all maner of good works, although they be not in any sort commanded by Gods law, but onely commended vnto our free-will by his counsells and holy inspirations. For like as a man but newly recouered from a long and daungerous sicknes, walketh now and then as much as is necessarie for his health, but yet slowly and leasurely for want of strength and [Page 34] vigour: so a sinner but lately reclaimed from the diseases of iniquitie, walketh in the way of Gods commandements, but yet slowly, and faintly, no more then is necessarie for his saluatiō, vntill such time as he gaine the strength of deuotion, for then like a man in sound & perfect health, he not onely walketh lustely and cheerfully in the high way of Gods commandements, but with ex­ceeding courage, and earnest desire of pleasing his Sauiour, runneth speedely, as it were leaping & dancing for ioy and exaltatiō of mind, in the pathes of Gods councels and heauenly inspirations. To conclude, charitie and deuotion doe differ one from another, no more then fire from flame: for charitie is a spiri­tuall fire which God kindleth in our harts, and when it breaketh out in to flames, then is it called deuotion: So that deuotion addeth nothing to the fire of charitie, sauing a bright flame of redines and promptnes of mind to exer­cise actiuely, speedily, with out delayes, or difficulties, at all occasions, the com­mandements of God, and works of his councells, and inspirations, which it [Page 35] pleaseth his diuine goodnes to infuse into our harts.

The properties and excellency of Deuotion. CHAPTER II.

1. THEY that endeuoured to dis­courage the Israelits frō going forward vnto the lād of promi­se, told thē it was a countrie that deuou­red the inhabitants therof, hauing an ayre so contagious, that it were impos­sible to liue long in health there, and that on the other side, the inhabitants of that land, were huge monstrous giants, that did eate vp other men, as yf they were but shrimpes or locusts. So playes the world (my deer Philotheus) it striueth by all meanes possible to de­fame holy deuotion, painting vs out deuout persons with frowning, sad, and griesly countenances, and publishing maliciously that deuotion engendreth melancholy humours, and vnsufferable [Page 36] conditions. But as Iosua and Caleb, constantly protested, not onely that the countrie was beautifull & fruitfull, but also that the winning & possessiō therof would both be easie, and agreable to their wishes: so doth the holy Ghost by the mouthes of all his saints, and our Sauiour Christ him self by his owne blessed mouth assure vs, that a deuout life is sweete, happie, and full of vn­speakeable delights and comforts.

2. The world sees that the louers of saintlike deuotiō, fast, pray, watch, serue the sick, giue to the poore, bridle their anger, restranie their passions, depriue them selues of sensuall pleasures, and do other such acts as are of them selues both sharpe & rigorous. But the world sees not the inward cordiall affection which rendreth all these actions most pleasaunt, sweete, and easie to performe. Looke but on the litle Bees, busilie be­set vpon the thime, the iuyce wherof euery man knowes to be bitter: and yet no sooner haue they sucked it from the herbe, but presently they conuert it into honny. Deuout soules (ô you worldlings) feele (no doubt) the bit­ternes [Page 37] of these mortifications: yet such is the nature of deuotion, that euen in the verie exercise of these austerities, it transformes them into pleasaunt and sweete delights. The fiers, and flames, the racks, and tortures, swords, and scourges, seemed flowers, and perfumes to the valiaunt martyrs, because they were deuout: yf then deuotion can giue so sweet a tast to the most cruell tor­ments, yea euen to death it self: how daintie and diuine a tast will it giue vnto virtuous actes and exercises? Sugar sweetneth sower and vnripened fruit, and correcteth the cruditie thereof whē it is ouer-ripe: and deuotion is the spi­rituall sugar, which taketh away all sowernes from mortification, and men­deth the surfeting sweetnes of consola­tion. It taketh away discontentement from the poore man, and the disordinat appetit and desire of riches: despaire from the oppressed, and insolence from the fauourised: sadnes from the solita­rie, and dissolution from him that kee­peth companie. It serueth for fire in the winter of aduersitie, and for mor­ning dew in the summer of prosperitie. [Page 38] Deuotion knowes how to abound in plentie, and how to be patient in po­uertie: deuotiō maketh equall esteeme of honour and disgrace, and receaueth pleasure and paine, almost, with one and the same vnchaungeable mind; and fi­nally filleth our soules brim-full of ine­stimable delights.

3. The mysterious ladder which Ia­cob saw in his happie dreame, (the true pourtraict of the deuout life) the two sides wherof, signifie prayer which ob­taineth the loue of almightie God, and the holy sacramēts which cōfer it vnto vs, when we duly receaue them: The staues, or steps fastned to the sides, be­token diuers degrees of charitie, by which deuout soules do goe frō virtue to virtue: either descending by action to succour and help their neighbours, or ascending by contemplation vp to the happie vnion with almightie God. Now looke (my Philotheus) vpon those which be on this ladder, and you shall find them men that haue Angels harts, or Angels, that haue mens bo­dies; They seeme young though indeed they be not, because they be full of force [Page 39] & spirituall vigour in all theire actiōs: They haue golden wings, to soare vp to the very throne of God, and to dart them selues into him by feruent prayer, but they haue feet also to walke among men, by an holy, amiable, and exemplar conuersation; faire and goodly are their faces, for they receaue all things with ioy and sweetnes. Their legges, their armes, & their heads at alwayes vncoue­red, for as much as their thoughts, affe­ctions and actions are voide of all other motiue or designement, sauing onely a pure and naked intentiō to please God: The rest of their bodie, is couered with a faire and light robe, because though they vse the self same world that world­lings doe, yet take they but sparingly of worldly things, no more then is re­quisite for their estate. Such Angels as these, be deuout persons. Beleeue (me louing Philotheus) deuotion is the sweet of all sweetes, the queene of vir­tues, for it is the ornament and perfe­ction [...] [...]aritie: for yf charitie be milke to feed our faint [...]oules, deuo­tion is the creame; yf charitie be the plante, deuotion is the floure; [Page 40] yf charitie be the precious gemme, deuotion is the lustre of it; yf charitie be a healthfull baulme, deuotion is the cōfortable odour therof, which recrea­teth men and refresheth the Angels.

That deuotion is an instrument, and an ornament befitting all voca­tions, and professions. CHAPTER III.

1. GOD commaunded the plants in their creation, to beare frute, euery one according to his kind: euen so commandeth he all Christians, (who are the liuing plants of his Church) to fructifie and bring foorth the workes of deuotion, euery one according to his kinde and qua­litie. For deuotion ought to be exer­cised differently by the gentleman, by the artificer, by the seruant, by the Prince, by the widdow, by the maid, and by the married. And the practise of deuotion is not onely diuers in diuers [Page 41] estates, but euen in the self same estate must it be accōmodated, to the forces, affaires, leasure, and dutie of euery one in particular. For I pray thee, would it doe well yf the Bishop should be soli­tarie like the Carthusian? or the mar­ried man should lay vp no more in store for the maintenance of his familie, then the Capuchin? or that the Artificer should be all day in the church like the monk: and the monke busie him self in all kindes of occurrents, for the seruice of his neighbour, as doth the Bishop? Were not such deuotion ridi­culous, disorderly, and intolerable? And yet is this preposterous manner of pro­ceeding now a dayes most vsuall: and the world either not able, or not willing to discerne deuotion, from indiscre­tion, murmureth & blameth deuotion, which not-withstanding, can nether helpe, nor redresse these disorders.

2. No (my Philotheus) true de­uotion neuer marreth any thing, but rather maketh and perfecteth: and de­uotion that is contrarie to the lawfull calling of any man, is vndoubtedly for­ged and false deuotion. The Bee (saith [Page 42] the philosopher) sucketh hony from hearbes and flowers without hurting or endamageing them, but leauing thē as whole & as freshe as she found them: but true deuotiō doth more then so: for it not onely hurteth no state, vocation or affaire, but contrariwise bettereth & adorneth it. All kind of pearles and pre­tious gēmes being steeped in hony, be­come more glittering, euery one after its natiue colour: and so euery christian becommeth more perfect, & excellent in his vocation, ioyning the same with true deuotion: the care of familie by it is made more quiet and peaceable; the loue of man and wife more sincere and durable; the seruice of subiects to their prince more loyal and acceptable; and all kind of occupations become more easie and tolerable.

3. It were an errour, nay an heresie, to go about to banishe deuotion from the companies of soldiours, out of the shops of artificers, the courts of princes, and from the houshold or familie of maried folk. True it is, that the deuo­tion, altogether contemplatiue, mo­nasticall, and religious, cannot be exer­cised [Page 43] in these vocations: yet are there many other degrees and exercises of de­uotion, which sufficiently and easilie lead secular persons to perfection; A­braham, Isaak, Iacob, Dauid, Iob, To­bias, Sara, Rebecca, and Iudith, are witnesses heerof in the ancient law: and as touching the new, S. Ioseph, S. Lydia, and S. Crispin, were perfectly deuout in their open shops; S. Anne, S. Martha, S. Monica, amonghst their families: S. Cornelius, S. Sebastian, S. Maurice, amidst the armies: and Constantin, S. Helen, S. Lewis, S. Amé, and S. Edward in their royall throanes & duke-domes. Nay it hath oftentimes happened, that many haue lost their perfection in soli­tude (which not withstāding is so much desired to perfection) and haue conser­ued it amidst the multitude, which see­meth litle fauourable to perfectiō. Lott, (saith S. Gregory) that was so chast in the citie, defiled himself in solitude: whersoeuer we be, or of whatsoeuer cal­ling we are, we may and ought to aspire to perfection.

The necessitie of a guide to enter and go forward in exercises of deuotion. CHAPTER IIII.

1. YOVNG Tobias, commanded by his father to goe to the citie of Rages, said, I know no whit of the way: goe then (replied his father) and seeke out some faithfull guide to conduct thee. The same say I to thee (my beloued Philotheus) desirest thou in good earnest to walk to the citie of deuotion? seek some skilfull man to direct and lead thee. This is the rule of rules: and the aduertisment of aduer­tisments: for albeit thou search neuer so curiously (sayth the deuout Auila) thou shalt neuer so securely and cer­tainly finde out the will of God, as by this safe way of humble obedience, so much recommended and practized by all his deuout and faithfull seruants in former times. The blessed Mother Te­resa, foundresse of the reformed Car­melits, [Page 45] seeing the straunge and extraor­dinarie penances, which the great Ladie Catherin of Cardoua, exercised in a ca­ue, in a wildernes of Spanie, was much moued in hart to imitate her therein, cōtrarie to the aduice of her confessour, who had forbid her such kind of auste­rities: yet was she tempted not to obay him in that behalfe: but God (who many times familiarly talked with her) sayd vnto her: my daughter thou hast alreadie begunne a very fafe and assured way: seest thou the penaunce of that good ladie? but I doe make more ac­compt of thy obedience. And therfore this blessed woman euer after so loued this virtue, that beside the ordinarie obedience due vnto her superiours, she made one vowe in particular, to a cer­taine learned & excellent man, to folow in all things his direction, by which she found inestimable comfort and profit; as both before, and after her, many de­uout soules haue done the like, who to subiect them selues more perfectly to the will of God, submitted their owne willes to the disposition of his seruants: a thing which holy S. Catherin of Siena [Page 46] highly commendeth in her spirituall dialogues. The most virtuous princesse S. Elizabeth, submitted her selfe most extraordinarilie to the direction of her ghostly confessour Conradus. And one of the last aduices that great S. Lewis gaue to his sonne before his death, was in this in kind: confesse often & choose a confessour of learning, and discretion, that can, and dare aduertise thee, to do such things as are necessary for thy saluation.

2. A faithfull frind (saith the holy scri­pture) is a strong protection: he that hath found him, hath found a treasure. A faithfull frind is a medicin of life and immortallitie: such as feare God doe finde such a frind. These sacred wordes, as you may see, are principallie spoken of immortallitie, for the obtayning whereof, it is neede­full aboue all thinges to haue this faith­full frind, who may guide our actions by his prudentiall councell, and coun­tergard vs, against the ambushments and slightes of our ghostly enemie. Such an one shall be vnto vs, as a trea­sure of wisdome in all our afflictions, desolations, and falles: he shall serue vs [Page 47] as a medicine to ease and comfort our hartes in our ghostlie diseases: he will keepe vs from euill, and make what is good in vs, agreat deale better: and if any infirmities chance to befall vs, his carefull asistance will procure, that it shall not be mortall, for he will lift vs vp againe from our downefall.

3. But who is he (say you) that shall be so happie as to finde such a frind? The wise man in the same place tells vs, saying. They that feare God, they that with an humble minde, affectuoufly desire their aduacement in pietie, and in the seruice and worship of their Creator. Seeing then that it importeth thee so much (my Philotheus) to goe accom­panied with a good guide in this holy voyage of deuotion, pray vnto God with very great instance, that he will furnish thee with one according to his hart, and dout not, albeit it were need­full for this end, to send an Angell from heauen, as he did to young Tobias, but that he will giue thee a good one, and a faithfull.

4. And in verie deed, in place of an Angel ought he to be vnto thee, when [Page 48] thou hast once found him. Regard him not simplie as a man, nether trust in him, nor in his humaine prudence, but in the prouidence of almightie God, who wil no dout fauour thy indeuours, and speake vnto thee by the meanes and interposition of this man: putting into his minde, and into his mouthe, that which shall be most expedient for thy spiritual aduancement: so that thou oughtest to hearken vnto him, as vnto an Angell descended from heauen, to conduct and leade thee thither. Treate with him freely, and with an open hart, manifesting without al dissimulation or fayninge, the good and euil which thou findest in thy soule: and by this mea­nes, thy good shall be more examined and assured, and thy euil corrected and amended: thou shalt be both eased and fortified in thy afflictions, and modera­ted and ordered in thy consolations. Place then an exceeding confidence in him, ioyned with a religious and respe­ctiue reuerence yet so, that the reue­rence diminishe not thy confidence in him, nor thy confidence hinder the reuerence due vnto him: but trust [Page 49] in him with trembling, as a chast may­den doth respect hir seuere, but louing father: and respect him with an assured trust in his loue and care, as an obediēt sonne, would doe his deare and tender harted mother. In a woord, the frind­ship betwixt thee and thy ghostly in­structor, must be stronge and sweete, al holie, al sacred, and all celestial.

5. For this cause, choose one amōge a thousand, saith Auilla, but I say vnto thee, one amonge ten thousand, for there are fewer to be found then men imagin, who are fit and capable of such an office. He must be replenished with charitie, knowledg, and with prudence, for if but one of these three partes be wanting in him, it wil be dangerous for thy soule. Therfore once againe I ad­uise thee, to demaund him instantly at the handes of almightie God, and ha­uing once obtayned him, blesse his di­uine maiestie for so great a benefit. Stand firme and stedfast vnder his con­duct, and change him not lightly for any other, but goe to him simply, hum­bly, and confidently: and so shalt thou make a prosperous voyage.

That the begining of a deuout life, must be taken from the purgation of the soule. CHAPTER V.

1. FLowers appeare in our ground, (sayeth the spouse in the Can­ticles) the time of pruning our vines is come. What be the flowers of our hartes (ô Philotheus) but our good desires? So soone then as they appeare, we must lay hand to the hooke, and cut from our conscience, all withered, dead, and superfluous workes. In the law of Moyses, the stranger woman taken prisoner, that would marrie with an Isralite, was to put of the robe of hir captiuitie, to pare hir nayles, and to cut away the tresses of hir hayre: in like maner, the soule that aspireth to the honour to be the espouse of the Soune of God, must first put of the old man, and put on the new, cast away and forsake sinne, and then pare and shaue of all kind of im­pediments, which doe diuert from the loue of almightie God. It is the first [Page 51] begining of our health, to purge our corrupt and peccant humors. S. Paul euen in an instant, was purged and cleansed with a perfect purgation. So was S. Marie Magdalen, S. Pelagia, S. Gatharin of Genua, and certaine others. But this kinde of purgation, is altogether miraculous and extraor­dinary in grace, as is the resurrection of the dead in nature, and therfore we must not pretend therunto. The ordinary manner of purging and hea­ling ether body or minde, is not wrought but by litle and litle, and by proceeding from degree to degree, with paine, leasure, and expectation.

2. The Angels had winges, vpon the mysterious ladder of the Patriarche Iacob, yet they flew not therfore, but ascended, and descended by order from one step to another. The soule which ariseth from sinne to deuotion, is fitly compared to the morning starre, which in rising expelleth not the dark­nes in a trice or moment, but grada­tim and by degrees. That cure (saith the Physiciens Aphorisme) which is done faire and softly, is alwayes most assured. [Page 52] The diseases of the soule, as wel as those of the body, come to vs, as a man may say, in post, or a horse back, but they depart from vs on foote, and faire and softly. We must then be courageous (ô Philotheus) in vndertaking this enter­prise. Alas, what pittie is it of these soules, which seeing them selues subiect to sundrie imperfections, after they haue bene exercised some few monthes in deuotion, begin to trouble, disquiete, and discourage them selues, suffering their hartes almost to be borne away vnto the temptation of leauing of all, and returning back? But now on the other part, is it not an exceeding peril vnto those soules, which by a contrary temptation, perswade them selues to be purged from their imperfections, the first day, as it were, of their purgation, reputing them selues to be made per­fect, before, in a manner, they be scar­cely made, and presuming to flye, before they haue winges. O Philotheus, in what great danger are they, of falling againe into their former diseases, for taking them selues to timely out of the handes of the phisicien? It is in vaine to [Page 53] rise before the light (saith the kingly Pro­phet) rise after you haue sitten. And he him selfe putting the same lesson in practise, hauing bene washed & clean­sed from his sinne, yet humbly deman­deth to be washed againe.

3. The exercise of purging soules, can not, nor may not end, but with our life. Let vs neuer therfore afflict our selues about our imperfections, for our perfection cheifly consisteth in re­sisting against them, and we can not resist them vnles we doe see them, nor can we van quish them, vnles we en­counter them. Our victorie consisteth not, in not feeling them, but in not consenting nor yeelding vnto them: for to receaue vexation and trouble from them, is not to consent vnto them: nay it is necessarie for the exercise of our humilitie, that we sometime recea­ue some smale blowes or foiles in this spiritual battaile: but we are neuer to be accounted for ouercome, but only when we leese ether life or courage. Now certaine it is, that imperfections and venial sinnes, can not take from vs the life of grace, for that is neuer lost [Page 54] but by deadly sinne. The only care then that remayneth is, that these imperfe­ctions doe not daunt our courage. De­liuer me ô Lord, said Dauid, from cowardli­nes, and faintnes of hart. For this is the happie condition and aduantage which we haue in this ghostly warre, that we shal euer be conquerors, prouided alwayes that we wil combat.

Of the first Purgation: which is, from mortall sinnes. CHAPTER VI.

1. THE first purgation then which we must minister to our soule, is, to cleanse and voide away the filth of sinne: and the meanes to make this purgation, is the holy Sacra­ment of Pennance. For the due re­ceauing whereof, thou must seeke out the best confessar that can be found. Then take in hand some litle treatise, that hath bene set forth, to helpe con­sciences to confesse well, as Granada, Bruno, Arias, Augerius, or such like. Read it with good attention, and marke from point to point, in what thou hast [Page 55] offended, begining from the time in which thou hadst first the vse of reason, vntil this present houre of thy con­uersion. And if thou doost distrust thy memorie, set downe in writinge what thou hast obserued: and hauing in this sort prepared and gathered together the peccant humors of thy guiltie con­science, detest them, and reiect them by Contrition and displeasure, euen as great and as profound as euer thy hart is able to suffer, dilligently pondering these four pointes. That by sinne thou hast lost the grace of God. Forsaken thy part of heauen. Accepted of the perpetual paynes of hell. And renoun­ced the vision, and euerlasting loue of almightie God.

2. Thou perceiuest, Philotheus, that I speake in this place of a generall Con­fession of all thy life, the which truly, although I graunt that it is not alwayes absolutely necessarie, yet doe I cōsider, that it will be exceeding profitable vnto thee in this begining: and for this cause I doe most earnestly exhort therunto. It happneth oft times, that the ordinary Confessions of such as liue a vulgar life, [Page 56] are full of great and grosse defaultes: one while they prepare not them selues any whit at all, or at the least very litle: another while they come, but not with that Contrition and sorrowe that is re­quisite for their sinnes: nay, somtimes it happeneth that they goe to Confes­sion, with a secret purpose to returne to sinne, namely when they doe not shunne and auoide the occasions, nor vse the necessarie dispatches, which are meete and proper for the amendment of life: and in all these cases, a general Confes­sion is very requisite to assure our sou­les. But besides this, a generall Con­fession, recalleth vs to the knowledg of our selues: prouoketh vs to a whol­some confusion for our life past: and moueth vs to admire the mercie of God, who hath expected vs with such incredible and exceeding patience: fur­thermore, it pacifieth our consciences: easeth our spirits: exciteth good pur­poses: ministreth matter to our ghostly father, to prescribe vs aduises, fit and conuenient for our condition: and openeth our hart, that we may with more confidence manifest our Con­fessions [Page 57] that be to come.

3. Being then in this Introduction, to discourse of a general renewing and reforming of our hartes, and of an vni­uersal conuersion of our soules vnto God, by the enterprise of a deuout life, I haue great reason, as it seemeth to me, Philotheus, to counsayle thee to make this generall Confession.

The second Purgation: which is from the affections of sinne. CHAPTER VII.

1. ALL the Israelites departed in effect out of the Land of E­gipt, but they departed not all in hart and affection; which was eui­dent to be seene, in that many of them in the desert repined, for that they had not the onyons & flesh potts of Egipt: euen so there are certaine penitents, who in effect goe foorth of sinne, but neuertheles doe not vtterly leaue nor forsake the affection: that is to say, they purpose indeed to sinne no more, but it [Page 58] is with a certaine harts-breake which they haue, to depriue them selues, and to abstaine from the accursed de­lightes and contentments of sinne. Their hart renounceth sinne and stan­deth a loofe of, but they leaue not for all that, often times to looke that way, as Lotts wife looked back towardes Sodom. They abstaine from sinne, as sick men doe from millons, which they forbeare, because the phisicien threatens them death if that they eate them: but not withstanding this con­strayned abstinence, their fancie stil longeth after those forbidden meates, they speake of them, cheapen them, and would likewise buy of them, if it were lawfull, at the least they wil sinel to them, and account them happie that are not bound to forbeare them: euen so these feeble and faint harted penitents, refraine them selues from sin­ne for awhile, but to their griefe, they wish to God, that they might sinne, and not be damned: they talke with a kind of tast and sauour of sinne, and ac­count thē cōtēted that doe cōmit them.

2. A man resolued to be reuenged, [Page 59] wil change his wil when he comes to Confession, but immediatly after, one may finde him amongst his frindes, taking pleasure and contentment in recounting his quarrel, saying, that had it not bene for the feare of God, he had done this, or he had done that: and that the deuine law, in this point of pardoning is very hard, and wisheth to God that it were lawful for him to be reuenged. Alas, who seeth not, that although this poore man be gotten faintly out of sinne, yet that he is alto­gether incensed to the affectiō of sinne? that being foorth of Egipt in effect, he is yet there stil in wil and appetite, greedely desiring the rustick fare of the onyons and garlick, which he was wont to eate: euen as a wanton wo­man, that hath newly detested hir lewed loues, findes stil a delight to be courted and inuironed with hir fond wooers: alas what exceeding danger are such people in?

3. O Philotheus, seing thou resoluest to vndertake a deuout course of life, thou must not only forsake sinne, but withall, wholy purge thy hart from all [Page 60] affections, which any way depend or sa­uour of sinne. For besides the danger that there is of relapse, these miserable affections wil cōtinually tyre thy spirit, and wil make it become so heauie and lumpishe, that it shall not doe any good workes promptly, dilligently, and fre­quently, wherin not withstanding con­sisteth the true essence of deuotion. Such soules as hauing gotten out of the estate of sinne, and retayne not­withstanding these bad affections and languishinges, resemble in my opi­nion, the maydens that haue the greene sicknes, who are not sick, and yet all their actions are sick: they eate with­out relishe, sleepe without repose, laughe without ioy, and dragge them selues, rather then goe or walke: euen so these soules doe wel, but with a spi­rituall wearisomnes, and that so great, that it takes away all the grace from their good exercises: which are but few in number, and smale in effect.

Of the meanes of applying this second Purgation. CHAPTER VIII.

1. NOW the foundation of this second purgation, is a liuely and stronge apprehention of the greate harme which sinne bringeth vnto vs, by meanes whereof, we enter into a profound and vehement Contri­tion. For as neuer so litle Contrition (if it be true and vnfeined) especially conioyned with the vertu of the Sacra­ments, doth purge vs sufficiently from the guilt of sinne, so also when it is great and vehement, it purgeth vs from all the affections depending of sinne. A hatred or rancour which is feeble and weake, causeth our hart to rise at the very sight of him whom we doe hate, and maketh vs to flie his compa­nie, but if it be a violent and deadly hatred, it maketh vs not only to flye his company, but euen to be disgusted, and not to endure the conuersation of [Page 62] any of his kinred, parents, or frindes, no, not so much as his picture it selfe, or of any thinge else appertayninge vnto him, but is abhominable and odious vnto vs: euen so when the pe­nitent hateth his sinne, only with a weake and cold, though true Contri­tion, he resolueth fully and truly in­deed, neuer to offend nor sinne any mo­re, but when he hateth it with a Con­trition vigorous and forcible, he not only hateth and detesteth the sinne, but likewise all the affections, dependances, and pathes of sinne.

2. We must then endeuour feruen­tly, Philotheus, to augment as much as is possible for vs, our sorrow, contri­tion, and inward repentance, to the end that it may stretch and extend, to the least appurtenance and sparke of sinne. So blessed Marie Magdalen in hir con­uersion, lost so perfectly all tast of sinne, and of the pleasures she had taken ther­in, that she neuer afterwardes thought more vpon them. And holy Dauid pro­testeth, that he not only hated sinne, but also all the wayes and pathes of the same. And in this resolution, consisteth [Page 63] the renouation of the soule, wherby she returnes by innocencie to hir youthfull dayes; which the same prophet com­pareth to the renewing of the eagle.

3. Now to attaine this apprehention and Contrition, thou must exercise thy selfe dilligently in these meditations following, which being duly practised, will (by the helpe of Gods heauenly grace) roote out of thy hart all sinne, as also the principall affections to the same: to this end haue I principally ordayned them. Thou shalt practise them therfore in order as I haue placed them, taking but one for euery day, and that in the morning, if it be pos­sible, which is the time most proper for all the actions of the spirit: and the rest of the day following, rumi­nate and chew that which thou hast meditated in the morning. If thou be not yet accustomed to meditation, see that which afterwardes shal be said in the second part.

The first Meditation; of our Creation. Chap. 9.

Preparation.

  • 1. Place thy selfe with reuerence be­fore God.
  • 2. Pray him to inspire thee with his grace.

Considerations.

1. COnsider that there are but so many yeares past, when thou wast not yet come into the world, & thy being was a iust nothinge. Where were we (ô my soule) in that ti­me? The world had then lasted so many ages, and yet there was no newes of vs.

2. God hath caused thee to be hatcht of this nothing, to be this somethinge which now thou art: without hauing any maner of neede of thee, but moued therunto by his only bountie.

3. Consider the being that God hath giuen thee, for it is the chiefest and most excellentst in this visible worlde: [Page 65] capable to liue eternally: and to vnite thy selfe perfectly vnto his diuine ma­iestie.

Affections and resolutions.

1. Humble thy self profoundly before the presence of God, saying from the bottom of thy hart with the Psalmist: O Lord before thee, and in comparison of thy maiesty, I am iust nothing? and how wast thou then mindfull of me to create me? Alas my soule, thou wast hidden (as it were) in the abisse of nothing: and in this abysse of nothing shouldst thou haue remained vntil this present, yf God had not drawne thee foorth from thence. And what couldst thou haue done, within this nothing?

2. Giue thancks to God. O my great and good Creatour, how infinitly am I in­debted vnto thee, for that thou hast taken me out of this nothing, to make me by thy mercie that somthing which I am? What shall I euer be able to doe worthelie, to blesse and magnifie thy name? and to render thancks to thyne exceeding bountie?

3. Confound thy selfe. But alas my Crea­ [...]our, insteed of vniting my self vnto [Page 66] thee by pure loue and loyall seruice, I haue alwayes been rebellious by my vnruly affections: separating and with­drawing my selfe from thee, to ioine and vnite my selfe vnto sinne and ini­quitie; doing no more honour to thy goodnes, then yf thou hadst not been my Creatour.

4. Prostrate and debase thy selfe before God. O my soule, knowe that our Lord is thy God: it is he that hath made thee, and not thou thy selfe. O God, I am the work of thy hands. I will then no more henceforth take pleasure in my selfe, since in my selfe, and of my selfe I am truly nothing. Wherof doost thou bragge and boast, ô dust and ashes? whereof doest thou extolle thy selfe, ô meere nothing? Wherfore to hum­ble my selfe I will doe such or such a thinge, I will support such or such con­tempt, I will change my life, and heerafter folow my Creatour, and doe my selfe honour with the condition and being which he hath giuen me, employing it wholly in the obedience of his blessed will, by such meanes as shal be taught me, and as I shall be in­formed [Page 67] of by my ghostly father.

Conclusion.

1. Giue thancks to God. Blesse thy God (ô my soule) and let all my bowells praise his holy name, for his boūtie hath drawne me forth of the abisse of no­thing, and his mercie hath created me.

2. Offer. O my God, I offer vnto thee with all my hart, the essence and being, which thou of thy bountie hast besto­wed vpon me: with all my hart do I de­dicate & consecrate the same vnto thee.

3. Pray. O my God, strengthen me in these affections and resolutions. O holy virgin mother of our Lord, commend them by thy blessed intercession vnto thy mercifull Sonne, together with all those for whom I ought to praye &c. Pater Aue. Credo.

After thou hast ended thy exercise, walke a while, and of these considera­tions which thou hast made, gather and bind together a litle nosegay of deuotion to smell vnto, and to recreate [...]he sent of thy soule all the day follo­winge.

The second Meditation; of the end, for the which were created. Chap. 10.

Preparation.

  • 1. Place thy self with reuerence be­fore God.
  • 2. Pray him to inspire thee with his grace.

Considerations.

1. GOD did not place thee in this world for any need that he had of thee, who art altogether vn­profitable to him, but only to exercise & declare his bountie in thee, in besto­wing vpō thee, his grace & glorie. And therfore hath he enriched thee, with vn­derstanding to know him, remēbrance to be mindful of him, will to loue him, imagination to represent his benefits vnto thy thoughts, eyes to behold the wonders of his works, & a tongue to praise him, and so foorth of others.

2. Being created, and sett in the world for this intention, all actions [Page 69] contrarie to this end, must be reiected and cast away: and such as serue not to obtaine this end, ought to be despised as vaine and superfluous.

3. Consider then the miserable case of most men in the world, who neuer thinck of this end, but liue as yf they beleeued that they were not made, but onely to build faire houses, to plant pleasaunt orchards, and to heape toge­ther riches, and such like fooleries.

Affections and resolutions.

1. Confound thy self, reproaching and obiecting to thy soule her misery; which hath beene so greate heretofore that she hath seldom or neuer thought of any of all this. Alas what did I busie my thoughts vpon (ô my God) when I placed them not vpon thee? what was I mindfull of, when I forgot thee? what did I loue, when I did not loue thee? Ay me, I should haue fed my soule with thy veritie, and I haue sild it with vanitie, and haue serued the world, which was not made but to serue me.

2. Detest thy life past. I defie you vt­terly ô vaine cogitations, and vnpro­sitable fancies: I abhorre, and abiure [Page 70] you, ô detestable and friuoulous ima­ginations: I renounce you vnfaithfull and disloyall loues, miserable and lost seruices, vngratfull gratifications, com­bersome and vnpleasing pleasures.

3. Turne thy selfe to God. And thou, ô my God, and my Lord, thou shalt bee for the time to come the onely obiect of my thoughts: no, I will neuer more applie my spirit to any cogita­tions, which may be offensiue or disli­kinge to thee. My memorie all the dayes of my life, shall be filled with con­sideration of thy excessiue goodnes, so louingly declared in my behalf: thou shalt be the deliciousnes of my hart, and the sweetnes of my affections.

4. Hence therfore from my sight for euer, such and such toyes and trifles, wherunto I haue vainely applied my mind: such and such idle exercises, in which I fondly spent my dayes; such & such affectiōs which entangled my hart, shall hen ceforth be a horrour vnto my thoughts: and to this end I will vse such and such remedies.

Conclusion.

1. Thanck God that it pleased him to create [Page 71] thee for so excellent an end. Thou hast made me ô Lord for thy selfe, to enioy euer­lastingly the immensitie of thy glorie: ô when shall it be that I shall be wor­thie, and when shall I praise thee accor­ding to my dutie?

2. Offer. I offer vnto thee (ô my deare Creatour) all these good affections and holy resolutions, with all my hart & all my soule.

3. Pray. I beseech thee (ô God) to accept these my desires and vowes, and to giue my soule thy holy blessing, that she may faithfully accomplishe them, through the merits of the bloud of thy blessed Sonne, shedd for me vpon the crosse &c. Pater. Aue. Credo.

Remember to make a litle nosegay of deuo­tion as aforesaid.

The third meditation: of the Bene­fits of God. CHAP. 11.

Preparation.

  • 1. Place thy self with reuerence be­fore God.
  • 2. Pray him to inspire thee with his grace.

Considerations.

1. CONSIDER the corporall graces which God hath giuē thee: what a bodie, what commodities to main­taine it, what health, and lawfull conso­lations to entertaine it, what frinds, what helpes, and what assistaunce. But thou shalt consider all this, with com­parison of many other persons in the world, which are farre better and wor­thier then thou, who notwithstanding are destitute of all these benefits; some spoild in their bodies, health, and mem­bers: other abandoned to the mercie of reproaches, contempts and disho­nours: other oppressed and ouerwhel­med with pouertie: And God would not suffer thee to become so miserable.

2. Consider the benefits and gifts of mind; How manie are there in the world, sencelesse, foolish, and besides them selues? and why art not thou one of the number? God vouchsafed to fa­uour thee: How manie are there whose education hath been rude, brutish, and barbarous, who haue been nourished and bred vp in grosse ignoraunce, and clownish behaueour? wheras the pro­uidence [Page 73] of God hath so prouided, that thou hast been brought vp ciuilie, and in honour.

3. Consider the supernaturall bene­fits of heuenly grace. O Philotheus, thou art a childe of the Gatholique churche. God hath taught thee the knowledge of his true religion, euen from thy infancie and youth. How manie times hath he giuen thee his holy sacraments? how manie times inspirations, internal illuminations, & for thy amendment gratious reprehen­sions? how often hath he pardoned thee thy faults? how often hath he de­liuered thee from occasions of casting away thy self, when thou wast in dan­ger? And these last yeares of thy life, which he hath so liberally lent thee, did they not affored thee leasure enough, to aduaunce thy selfe in the spirituall profit and good of thy soule? Consider at the least how sweet & gracious God hath beene vnto thee.

Affections and resolutions.

1. Admire the goodnes of God. O how good and how mercifull is my God in my behalf! O how gratious is he! O [Page 74] how rich is his hart in mercie, and li­berall in bountie? O my soule, let vs recount for euer how manie fauours he hath done vnto vs.

2. Admire thy ingratitude. But who am I (ô Lord) that thou hast been so mindfull of me? Ah how great is my vnworthines, how into lerable is my vnthanckfulnes? Alas I haue troden vnder foote these benefits, I haue dishonoured thy fauours, turning them into abuses, and contempt, of thy soueraigne bountie: against the infinit depth of thy graces, haue I opposed the bottomlesse depth of my ingra­titude.

3. Sturre thy self vp to acknowledgement of his benefits. Vp then my hart, be no more vnfaithfull, vnthanckfull, and desloyal vnto thy great and gracious benefactour. And how shall not my soule, be subiect wholie vnto God, who hath wrought so manie wonders and graces both in me, and for me?

4. Goe to then, Philotheus, from hence forward withdraw thy bodie frō such and such voluptuous pleasures; subiect it entirely, to the seruice of [Page 75] God, who hath done so much for it. Applie thy soule how to know and acknowledge the goodnes of thy God, by such and such like exercises, which be requisit for that end. Employ dili­gently the meanes which are in holy Church, to saue thy soule, and to profit in the loue and worship of God. Yea, ô my God, I will frequent the exercise of prayer, and the vse of thy sacra­ments: I will heare thy holy word, I will practize thy holy inspirations and thy counsails, &c.

Conclusion.

1. Giue God thancks for the know­ledge he hath giuen thee at this present of thy bounden dutie, and of the be­nefits heretofore receaued.

2. Offer him thy hart with all thy good purposes and resolutions.

3. Pray vnto him to fortifie thee, that thou maist practize them faithfully, through the merits of the death and passion of his Sonne our deere Sa­uiour. Implore the intercession of the blessed Virgin, and of the Saints, &c. Remember to make a litle nosegay of deuo­tion, as aforesaid.

The fourth meditation: of sinne. CHAPTER 12.

Preparation.

  • 1. Place thy self with reuerence be­fore God.
  • 2. Pray him to inspire thee with his grace.

Considerations.

1. CALL to mind how long it is since thou beganst to sinne, & examin how much from that beginning, sinnes haue bene multiplied in thy hart: how euery day thou hast encreased them, against God, against thy selfe, and against thy neighbour: by worke, by worde, by desire and thought.

2. Consider thy naughtie inclina­tions, & how much thou hast folowed them. And by this meanes thou shalt plainly see, that thy sinnes are greater in number then the haires of thy head, yea then the sands of the sea.

3. Consider and ponder in particular the sinne of ingratitude against God: [Page 77] which is a generall sinne, and extendeth it self aboue all the rest, & maketh thē infinitly more enorme and hainous. Behold then how manie benefits God hath bestowed vpon thee, and how thou hast abused them all against the giuers goodnes: in particular consider how many good inspiratiōs thou hast despi­sed, how many good motions thou hast vnprofitablie neglected. But aboue all, how manie times hast thou receaued the holy sacraments, and where are the frutes therof? what are become of all those pretious Iewells wherwith thy deare spouse adorned thee? all these haue been hid and couered vnder the filth of thy iniquities. With what pre­paration hast thou receaued them? Thinck I pray thee vpon this ingra­titude: that God hauing runne so after thee, and that to saue thee, thou hast out-runne him, and that to de­stroye thee.

Affections and resolutions.

1. Be confounded, and ashamed of this thy misery. O my God, how dare I ap­peare before thine eyes? Alas I am but an aposteme of the world and a verie [Page 78] sincke of sinne and ingratitude. Is it possible, that I haue been so disloryall, that I haue not left any one of my sences, nor any one of the powers of my soule, which I haue not polluted, violated, and defiled? and that not so much as one day of my life hath passed, in which I haue not brought foorth such naughtie effects? Is it thus that I ought to recompense the benefits of my Creatour, and the pretious bloud of my redeemer?

2. Craue pardon for thyne offences. O my Lord, I cast my self dowe before thy feete, like the prodigall child, like ano­ther Magdalen, like a woman conuin­ced to haue dishonoured her mariage bed with all kind of adulterie O pittifull Lord, mercie on this poore sinfull wret­che. Alas ô liuely and neuer-ceasing wellspring of compassion, haue pittie vpon this miserable suppliant.

3. Purpose to liue better heerafter. O my blessed Lorde, no; neuer any more with the helpe of thy grace; no, neuer any more will I abandon my self to sinne. Alas I haue loued it but too too much: but now I detest it, & embrace thee. O [Page 79] father of mercie, I wil liue & die in thee.

4. To blott out my sinnes past, I will accuse my self couragiouslie I will not leaue one, but thrust it head long out of my hart.

5. I will do all that I can to pull vp by the verie rootes, all the plants of sinne frō my hart: & in particular, such and such which doe most annoy me.

6. To accomplish this, I will con­stātly embrace the meanes which shall be aduised me: and neuer thinck I haue done euough, to repaire the ruines of so great offences.

Conclusion.

1. Giue God thanks, for expecting thy amendment, vntill this houre: and blesse him that he hath giuen thee these good affections.

2. Offer him vp thy soule franckly and freely, that thou maist putt them in execution by the helpe of his grace.

3. Desire him to strengthen thee with his heauenly ayde, for his deere Sonns pretious death: for our blessed Ladies in­tercessiō, & the prayers of all his Saints, &c. Pater. Aue. Credo. Remember to make a little nosegay of deuotion as aforesaid.

The fifte meditation: of Death. CHAPTER 13.

Preparation.

  • 1. Place thy self reuerently in the pre­sence of God.
  • 2. Pray him to inspire thee with his grace.
  • 3. Imagine thy self to be extremly sick, liyng vpō thy death-bedd, without any hope at all of euer escaping.

Considerations.

1. CONSIDER the vncertaintie of the day of thy death. O my poore soule, thou must out of this body one day: but when shall that day be? Will it be in winter, or in sum­mer? In citie, or contrie? By day, or by night? Shall it be vnawares, or with aduertisment? by sicknes, or by ca­suallity? Shalt thou haue leasure to confesse thee, or not? Shalt thou haue the asistance of thy ghostly father, or not? Alas, ô my soule, of all these thinges we knowe not one, only cer­taine [Page 81] it is that dye we must, and alwayes sooner then we imagin.

2. Consider that at that time the whole world shall haue an end, so far foorth as concerneth thee, that is, there shall be no more world for thee, yea, it will turne vpside downe before thyne eyes: for then the pleasures, the vani­ties, the worldly ioyes, the fond affe­ctions of our life, will seeme vnto vs like flying shadowes, and fadinge clou­des. Ah wretched caytiue that I am, for what trifles, and bables haue I of­fended almightie God? Thou shalt then euidently see, that we haue offended him for iust nothing. Contrary-wise, at that houre, al deuotion, pietie, and other good workes, will seeme vnto thee the greatest and sweetest treasure in the world. O wherfore did I not follow this faire and pleasant path? At that sorrowfull time, thy sinnes, which before seemed vnto thee but litle mou­le-hilles, will appeare biggar then huge mountaines: and thy deuotion so litle, that thou wilt scarcely be able to per­ceiue it.

3. Consider the longe & languishing [Page 82] farwells, that thy distressed soule wil then giue to this world: how sorrow­fully shee will bid adieu to riches, to honours, to vanities, to vaine company, to pleasures, to pastimes, to frindes, to neighbours, to parents, to kinsfolke, to husband, to wife, to children, and in a word to all creatures, and finally to hir owne bodie, which she must li­kewise leaue, al pale, wrinckled, hi­deous, loathsome, and most detesta­bly stinking.

4. Consider the impressiōs that one shall haue, to lift vp, or lay hand on this thy body: the great hast, that euen thy best frindes will make, to carrie thy carcasse out of doores, and to hide the same full deepe vnder the ground, far inough from their sight & behoul­ding: and this done, how seeldome afterwardes the world will thinke vpon thee, surely no more then thou thy selfe hast thought vpon other men, who haue deceased before thee. God haue mercie on his soule, say they, and there is all. O death how art thou to be pon­dered? How art thou terrible, pitti­les, and without compassion?

5. That at this departure from the body, the soule taketh his way on the right hand, or the left. Alas, alas, wi­ther then shall thine goe, what way shall it take? surely no other then that, which it hath heretofore begunne in this world.

Affections and resolutions.

1. Pray earnestly to God, and cast thy selfe with trembling loue beiwixt his armes. Alas ô my Lord, receaue me into thy protection at that dreadfull day: make that last houre happie and fauoura­ble vnto me, and let rather all the rest of my life be nothing else but dayes of sorrowe, affliction, and ca­lamitie.

2. Despise the world. Seeing I know not the houre wherein I must leaue thee, ô wretched world, I will no more set my loue vpon thee. O you my deare frindes, knisfolkes, and allies, suffer me to bearge you only that affection, which is compatible with an holie amitie, and may ther­fore last eternallie: for why should I vnite my selfe vnto you in such sort, as that afterwardes we should [Page 84] be forced to breake the knot of amitie betwixt vs?

3. I will therfore from this very in­stant, prepare my selfe for that peril­lous houre, and take that care which is requisite, to end this iorney happelie: I will secure the estate of my con­science, to the vtmost of my abilitie, and take present order for the refor­mation and amendment, of such and such defaultes.

Conclusion.

Giue thankes vnto God for these resolutions which he hath infused and giuen vnto thee: and offer them againe thankfully, louingly, and lowly vnto his majestie. Entreat him a new to giue thee a happie death, for the death of his dearly beloued Sonne, our Lord and Sauiour. Implore the asistance of the B. Virgin, thy Angel gardian, and all the Saintes in heauen. Pater. Aue. Credo. And bind vp a sweete posie of myrhe, to recreate thy soule the day following.

The Sixt Meditation, of Iudgment. CHAPTER 14.

  • 1. Place thy selfe in the presence of God.
  • 2. Pray him to asist thee with his grace.

Considerations.

1. AFTER the time that God hath ordayned for the continnance of the world, and after a num­ber of dreadfull signes and horrible pre­sages, the terrour wherof shall make men wither for feare and anguish, a cōsuming fire, coming like aflood, shall burne and reduce to ashes, euery thinge that is vpon the face of the earth, no­thing which we see excepted, nothinge to be priueledged from this fiery de­luge.

2. After this flood of flames and li­ghtninges, all men shall arise from their graues (excepting such as already be risen) and at the summoning of the Archangels voice, they shall appeare [Page 86] before the iudgment throane, in the valley of Iosaphat. But alas with what difference? For the one sort shall arise with glorifed bodies, casting foorth rayes of exceeding light, and the other in bodies, or rather in carrions, most hideous and loath some to behould.

3. Consider the maiestie wher with the soueraigne Iudge will appeare, enuironed with all the armies of his Angells and Saintes. Before him shall be borne triumphantly his sacred Cros­se, shining much more brighter then the sunne: a standart of grace to the good, and of righour and terrour to the wicked.

4. This soueraigne Iudge by his re­douted commandemēt, and which shall sodainly and in a moment be put in execution, shall seperate the good from the bad, placing the one at his right hand, and the other at his left: euerla­sting seperation, after the which these to bandes shall neuer any more meete againe together.

5. This seperation being made, and the bookes of consciences being layd open, all men shall see clearly the malice [Page 87] of the wicked, and the contempt which they haue borne to the maiestie of God: and on the other side, the penance of the good, and the effectes of the gra­ce of God which they haue receaued, and nothing at all shall be hidden or kept secret in that great consistorie. O good God, what a shamefull confusion will this be fore the one, and what a glo­rious consolation for the other?

6. Consider the last sentence pro­noūced against the wicked. Goe you cur­sed into euerlasting fire, prepared for the diuel and his Angels Waigh wel these wordes which are so waightie. Goe, saith he, a word of eternal reiection and abando­ning of those vnfortunate wretches, bānishing them eternally from his glo­rious face. Next he tearmeth them accur­sed: ô my soule how dreadfull a curse? how generall a curse? a curse cōprising in it all maner of mischiefe and miserie; an irreuocable curse, comprehendinge all times and eternitie. He addeth, into euerlasting fyre. Behould, ô my hart, the grieuous horrour of this eternitie; O eternal eternitie, and boundles infinitie of paines, how dreadful art thou?

7. Consider the contrary sentence giuen and pronounced in fauour of the good. Come, saith the Iudge; O sweete word, and beginning of saluation, by which God draweth vs vp vnto him selfe, and receaueth vs into the bosome of rest and glorie. The blessed of my Fa­ther. O deare blessing, treasure of blisse. Posesse the kingdome which is prepared for you from the begining of the world. O good God what excesse of fauour: for this kingdome hath no end.

Affections and resolutions.

1. Tremble, ô my soule, at the remem­brance hereof. O my God, who can se­cure me at that dismall day, in which the pillars of heauen shall tremble for feare?

2. Detest and abhorre thy sinnes, for only they can cast thee away at that dreadfull houre.

3. Ah wretched hart of myne resolue to mend all. O Lord I will iudge my selfe now with all care and stricktnes, lest I be then iudged far more rigorously. I will examine and condemne my selfe, accuse and chastice my selfe, that the eternall Iudge condemne me not in [Page 89] that latter day. I wil with al sorrowe and humblenes, frequent the Sacra­ment of Confession, and will accept all necessarie penances and aduices, &c.

Conclusion.

1. Thanke the goodnes of God, that hath giuen thee meanes to prouide for that day, and time and opportunitie to doe pennance.

2. Offer him thy hart to perfor­me it.

3. Pray him to giue thee grace, well and truly to accomplish it. Pater. Aue. Credo. And prouide a posie for all the day.

The seuenth Meditation, of Hell. CHAPTER 15.

  • 1. Place thy selfe in the presence of God.
  • 2. Pray him to asist thee with his grace.
  • 3. Imagin to thy selfe a darke citie, al on fire with pitch and brimstone, and thronged with miserable ci­tizens, which cannot get out.

Considerations.

1. CONSIDER that the damned are within this bottomles pit of hell, as with in this vnfortu­nate citie, where they suffer vnspeakable torments in all their sences, and in all their members: because as they haue employed all their sences and members to commit sinne, so shall they suffer in all their sences and members, the paines and torments due vnto sinne. There the wanton eies and lasciuious lookes, shall be afflicted with the horrible vi­sion of diuels, and hellish spectacles. The eares for delighting in vitious di­scouses, detractions, and slaunders, shall heare nothing but lamentable outcries, and desperate howlinges: and so of others.

2. Consider that ouer and aboue all these bitter torments, there is yet ano­ther greater then they all, which is the losse and priuatiō of the glorie of God, from whose most amiable face & frui­tion, they are for euer irreuocably de­barred. Now if Absalon found, that the priuation of the face of his father Dauid, was more grieuous vnto him, [Page 91] then his very exile, ô merciful Lord, what an infinite griefe will it be, to be for euer depriued from behoulding, of thy most delightfull and louely face.

3. Consider withall, the eternitie of these paines, which only thinge ma­keth hell intollerable▪ Alas if a flea in our eare, or if the heate of a litle fe­uer, make one short night so long and tedious, how tedious and terrible shall the night of eternitie be, accom­panied with so many vnspeakable tor­ments? Of this eternitie groweth in the damned, an eternall desperation, infinitie rage, and most abhominable blasphemie. &c.

Affections and resolutions.

1. [...]ertifie thy soule, and stir thy selfe vp to feare with the wordes of holy Iob. O my soule, art thou able to liue for euer with euerlasting flames, and amidst this deuouring fire? Wilt thou wil­lingly forsake the sight of thy God for euer?

2. Confesse that thou hast deserued it. And wretch that I am, how often? O my dea­re Lord, from hencefoorth I will take a [Page 92] new course, and tread a contrary way, for why should I descend into this bot­tomles pit of hell? I will therfore doe this or that indeuour to auoide sinne, which only can giue this immortal death.

Giue thankes, Offer, Pray. Pater. Aue. Crede.

The eight Meditation, of Paradice. CHAPTER 16.

Preparation.

  • 1. Place thy selfe in the presence of God.
  • 2. Pray him to asist thee with his grace.

Considerations.

1. CONSIDER a faire and a cleare night, and thinke how plesant a thinge it is to behould the skie all spangled with an innumerable multitude and varietie of starres. Then againe in thy imagination, ioyne all this nightes goodly beautie, with the beautie of a faire sunne-shine day, such an one, that the brightnes of the sunne [Page 93] beames, should not hinder the sight of the goulden starres, nor the siluer rayes of the moone: and after all this, say bouldly, that all this is nothing in re­gard of the excellent beautie of that great Paradise. O how this place is to be desired, and to be loued! O how pre­tious is this noble citie!

2. Consider the nobilitie, beautie, and multitude of the inhabitants, and citizens of this blessed contrie, those millions of millions of Angels, and Archangells, of Cherubins and Sera­phins: those troupes of Apostles, Pro­phets, Martyrs, Confessors, Virgins, and holie Matrons. O how blessed is this blessed companie? The lowest and meanest whereof, is more beautifull to behould, then all this visible world: what a sight wil it then be, to see them altogether? But ô my God, how hap­pie are they? They singe continually melodious songes of eternal loue, they alwayes enioy, a constant and stedfast estate of gladnes, they enterchange one to another, vnspeakable contentments, and liue in the comfort of endles and indissoluble amitie.

3. In a word, consider what good they all haue to enioy God, who grati­fieth them foreuer with his amiable countenance, and by the same, powreth into their hartes an abisse of delightes. What a good is it, to be vnited euerla­stingly to their begining? They are the­re like happie birdes, which flye, chir­ping & singing perpetually in the hea­uen of the diuinitie, which encompas­seth them on all sides with vnspeakable pleasures: there euery one striueth with an holie emulation, who may doe best, and without any enuy, singe the praises of their Creator. Blessed be thou, ô sweete lord and soueraigne maker, who art so bountiful vnto vs, & doost com­municate vnto vs so liberally, the euer­lasting treasures of thy glory. And God on the other side, blesseth them all with an eternall benediction. Blessed be you for euer, saith he, my beloued creatures who haue so faithfully serued me, and who shall laude me euerlastingly with so great loue, courage, and content­ment.

Affections and resolutions.

1. Admire and praise this heauenly coun­trie. [Page 95] O how beautifull art thou, my dea­re Hierusalem?

2. Reproache vnto thy hart the litle cou­rage which it hath had vnto this present, for hauing gone so much awrye from the way of this glorious habitation. O wherfore haue I so much estranged my selfe from my soueraigne good? Ah wretch that I am, for these pleasures, so displeasant and pight, haue I a thousand, and a thousand times, left the eternall and insinit de­lightes. Where was my wit and vnder­standing, to despise such goods so desireable, to desires so vaine and con­temptible:

3. Aspire notwithstanding with vchement resolution to this delicious & desired aboade. O my gratious God, since it hath plea­sed thee at the lenght to recall my wan­dering steppes, and to direct them into the right way, neuer hereafter will I turne back to those by-wayes, neuer hereafter wil I stray from the true path. Let vs goe with courage, my deare soule, let vs runne towardes this blessed countrie, which is promised vs in the kingdome of heauen: what make we so longe in this beggarly [Page 96] countrie of Egipt? I will therfore dis­patch my selfe from all such thinges as may put me out of the way, or hin­der me in so happie a iorney. I will per­forme such and such thinges, as may bringe me safely and speedely to my iornyes end. Giue thankes. Offer. Pray. Pater. Aue. Credo.

The ninth Meditation; by way of election or choise of Paradise. CHAPTER 17.

Preparation.

  • 1. Place thy selfe in the presence of God.
  • 2. Humble thy selfe before his maie­stie, praying him to inspire thee with his grace.
  • 3. Imagin thy selfe to be in a plaine field, all alone in companie of thy good Angell, as younge Toby going to Rages: and that he cau­seth thee to see aboue thee, Para­dise open, with all the pleasures represented in the former medita­tion of Paradise: and beneathe, [Page 97] that he makes thee see the pitt of hell wide open, with all the tor­ments described in the meditation of hell. Thou being thus placed vpon thy knees before thy good Angel,

Considerations.

1. CONSIDER that it is most cer­taine, that thou art in very dee­de in the midway to Paradise and hell, and that the one, and the other, is open to receaue thee, accor­ding to the choise which thou shalt make.

2. Consider that the choice which now thou makest, of the one, or the other place in this world, shall last for all eternitie in the world to come.

3. Consider that although both the one, and the other, be open to receaue thee, according to thy choice, yet that God who is readie to giue thee, ether the one by his iustice, or the other by his mercie, desireth not with standing, with an incomperable desire, that thou wouldest make choice of Paradise, and thy good Angel also, vrgeth and pres­seth thee with all his power, offering [Page 98] thee on Gods behalfe, a thousand suc­cours, and a thousand graces, to helpe thee to ascend and mount vp thither.

4. Consider that Iesus Christ from heauen aboue, louingly behouldeth thee, and inuiteth thee sweetly, sayinge. Come ô my deare soule to euerlasting repose betweene the armes of my good­nes, where I haue prepared immortall delightes for thee, in the multitude of my loue. Behould likewise with thy in­ward eies, the holy Virgin, who with a mothers tender loue exhorteth thee, saying. Take hart & courage my child, despise not the desires of my Sonne, nor the manifould sighes which I haue cast foorth for thee, earnestly together with my Sonne, tendering thy eternall salua­tion. Behould the Saintes also which exhort thee, and a million of holy sou­les courteously alluring thee, and wish­ing nothing else, but that one day thy hart may be ioyned with theirs in that happie companie, there to prayse God for euer and euer, assuring thee that the way to heauen, is not so vneasie as the world would make it. Come bouldly deare soule, say they, forward with cou­rage, [Page 99] for he that shal ponder dilligently the way of deuotion, by which we haue ascended hither, shall perceaue, that we arriued to these eternall ioyes, tho­rough pleasures, without comparison more pleasant, then all the delightes, and pleasures of the world.

Election.

1. O hell I detest thee now and for euermore, I detest thy torments and paines, I detest thy vnfortunat and accursed eternitie, and aboue all, I de­test those eternall blasphemies and exe­crations, which thou vomitest out eternally against my God. And tur­ning my soule to thee, ô beautifull pa­radice, euerlasting glorie, and endles fe­licitie, I make choice for euer and irre­uocablely, of my dwelling & habitation within thy faire and beautiful buyldin­ges, within thy holy and most louely tabernacles. I blesse thy mercie, ô my God, and accept the offer which it plea­seth thee to make me O sweete Sauiour Iesus, I likewise embrace thy euerla­sting loue, and agree to the purchase which thou hast made for me, of a hap­pie lodging in this blessed Ierusalem; [Page 100] not so much for any thinge else, as to loue and blesse thee for euer and euer.

2. In like maner accept the fauours which the Virgin, and all the B. Sain­tes, present vnto thee. Promise them that thou wilt walke towardes them; and giue thy hand to thy good Angell, that he may guide thee thither, and encourage thy soule to make this choi­ce. Pater. Aue. Credo.

The tenth Meditation; by way of election and choice which the soule maketh of the deuout life. CHAPTER 18.

Preparation.

  • 1. Place thy selfe before God.
  • 2. Prostrate thy selfe before him, and craue the asistance of his grace.

Considerations.

1. IMAGIN thy selfe once againe to be in a plaine field, all alone with thy good Angel, & that thou seest on thy left hand, the diuel seated vpon a great highe throne, with many infernall fiendes by him: & round about [Page 101] him, a great troupe of worldlinges, which all bareheaded, acknowledg him for their Lord, and doe him homage, some by one sinne, & some by another. Behould the countenances of all these vnfortunate courtyers of this abhomi­nable kinge Behould some of them fu­rious, and madde with hatred, enuie, and choller: others killing one another with spite and rācour: others withered away, pensiue & busie only to heape vp riches: others attēding only to vanitie, led away with pleasures, altogether fond and vn­profitable: others filthie, ougly, rottē, & putrified, in their brutish affections. Be­hould how they are all without any re­pose, wihout order, and without cōtent­mēt. Behould how they despise one ano­ther, & loue but only frō the theeth out­ward. In a word, thou shat see a pittifull cōmon wealth, miserable tyrannized by this accursed kinge, which may iustly moue thy hart to compassion.

2. On the right side, behould Iesus Christ crucified, who with most hartie loue, prayeth for these poo­re people posessed of the diuel, that they may be freed and deliuered from [Page 102] that tirannical thraldome, and calling them meekly and curteously vnto him. Behould roūd about him, a great troupe of deuout persons, euery one in com­pany of his holy Angel. Behould the beautie of this kingdome of deuotion. O what a goodly sight is it, to see this troupe of virgins, of men, and women, whiter then the lillies, that assemblie of widdowes ful of holie mortification and humilitie. Behould the rancks of diuers marryed folke, liuing so sweetly together with mutuall comfort, which can not proceede but from heauenly charitie. Consider how these deuout soules, accommodate the care of theire exteriour house, with the care of the interiour: and the honest loue of the husband, with that of the celestiall bri­degrome. Behould them all vniuersally, and thou shalt see in them all, a sweete, holy, and amiable countenance, all of them reuerently giuing eare to our bles­sed Lord, whom euery one would wil­lingly plant in the midst of his hart. They are all full of ioy, but their ioy is gratious, charitable, and well orde­red: they abound in loue one towardes [Page 103] another; but their loue is sacred, pure, and vnspotted. Such as suffer afflictions amongst this deuout company, nether torment nor trouble them selues, nor leese their courage. Lastly, behould those louely eies of our Lord and Sa­uiour, which sweetly are cast vpon them all to comfort them, and how they altogether aspire vnto him.

3. Thou hast alredie cast of Sathan, with all his woful and execrable troupe, by the good affections and resolutions which through Gods grace thou hast cōceaued: notwithstāding thou art not yet arriued to the palace of thy king, our Lord Iesus, nor ioyned with his blessed court of deuout soules: but he­therto thou hast alwayes remained, be­tween the one and the other.

4 The blessed Virgin, with S. Ioseph, S. Lewis, S. Monica, & a hundred thou­sand other Saints, which are in the squa­dron of those that liued deuoutly in the middest of the world, doe inuite and encourage thee.

5. The crucified king of glorie him selfe, calleth thee courteously by thyne owne name: Come my welbeloud, [Page 104] come hither that I may crowne thee.

Election.

1. O vaine world, ô abhominable troupe, no; you shall neuer more see me vnder your bāner. I haue for euer left of your fooleries and vanities. O execrable king of pride, ô cursed kinge, fiend of hell, I renounce thee with all thy vaine pompes, I detest and defie thee, with all thy works.

2. And humblie turning my self vnto thee my deer Lord Iesus, king of felici­tie and eternall glorie, I embrace thee with all the forces of my soule, I adore thee with all my hart: I choose thee now and euer for my king, and for my only prince: I offer vp vnto thee my inuiola­ble fidelitie▪ I do homage irreuocably vnto thy [...] maiestie, and submitt my self wholly to the obedience of thy holy lawes, and ordinances.

3. O sacred [...]gin my dread and deer ladie, I choose thee for my aduocate & my guide: I render my self vnder thy co­lours: I offer frō hencefoorth, a particu­lar respect & reuerēce vnto thy men [...]rie.

4. O my good Angel, pre [...] [...] vnto this glorious and sacred asse [...] [Page 105] and abandō me not vntil I arriue to the societie of this blessed companie: with whome I say frō my hart, & will say for euer. Liue for euer my Lord Iesus, liue for euer my Lord Iesus. Pater. Aue. Credo.

How to make a generall Confession. CHAPTER 19.

1. HETHERTO (my deer Philotheus) haue I set downe the meditatiōs which I thought requisite for our purpose: and when thou hast passed them ouer with diligence and deuotiō, then goe with an hūble, but yet coura­geous spirit, to make thy generall Con­fessiō. But [...] pray thee suffer not thy self to be troubled with any kinde of appre­hension. The Scorpion is venemous in the wound which ariseth frō his sting▪ but him self being reduced into [...] becomes a fingular remedie agai [...] [...] owne stinging: [...]o sinne is no [...] full, but when it is cōm [...]ed: but [...] cōuerted into cōfessio [...] ▪ penaun [...] [...]e­cometh wholsome & honorable. [...] and Confession are so precious, [...] sweet a smell, that [...] filthe, and disperse the [...] [Page 106] of sinne. Simon the leaper, iudged Mary Magdalen to be a sinner, and called her so: but our mercifull Sa­uiour denied it, and spake no more of her sinnes, but of the sweet perfumes which she poured foorth, and of the greatnes, and odoriferous sent, of her inflamed charitie.

2. O my Philotheus, yf we be trulie humble in our owne eyes and in the si­ght of God: our sinnes will displease vs aboue all things, because God is highly offended with thē: but the accusatiō of our sinnes wilbe sweet and pleasaūt vnto vs, because God is greatly honored with it. A kind of hart ease, and an asswaging of paine it is, to haue declared plainly & sufficiētly, the disease that tormēteth vs, to a skillfull physician, that can cure vs.

3 When thou comest before thy ghostly father, imagin thy selfe to be on the mount of Caluary, kneeling right vnder the feete of Iesus Christ crucified, frō whome distilleth his most pretious blood on al sides, to bathe & washe thee from thy iniquitie. For although it be not the verie bloud of our Sauiour, yet it is the merit and valor of his bloud, [Page 107] shed for vs vpō the crosse, which wash­eth & watereth abundantly, the soules of the penitents, in euery confessionarie. Open then thy hart well, to expell thy sinnes by virtue of Confession, for ac­cording to that measure, in which they goe out of thy soule, will the grace of God enter in their rome, to fill thee brim-full with his blessing.

4. But be sure to declare the state of thy soule, and all thy sinnes, simply, plainly, and fully: satisfie thy conscience in this, once for all thy life after: and that done, hearken to the aduertismēts and ordonances of the seruant of God, to whome thou confessest, and say with holy Samuel in thy hart: Speak Lord, for thy seruant hearkneth vnto thee. Yea (my Philotheus) it is God whose voice thou hearest in that place: for so sayd he vnto his vicars, he that heareth you, heareth me.

5. After that, take in hand this pro­testation folowing, which serueth for a conclusion of all thy Contrition: ponder it well from the begining to the ending, and read it attentiuely, and with the greatest feeling that possible thou canst.

An authenticall protestation, seruing to en­graue in thy soule a firme resolution to serue God, and to conclude the actes of Penaunce. CHAP. 20.

1. I wretched sinner heere personally appeering & standing in the pre­sence of God euerlasting, and of all the court of heauen; hauing consi­dered the exceeding mercie of his diui­ne goodnes towards me, most vnwor­thie and miserable caytife, whome he hath created of nothing, preserued, su­steined, and deliuered from so manie dangers, & endowed with so manie be­nefits. But aboue all considering the in­comprehensible sweetnes & clemency wherwith this most good God hath so bountifully tollerated me in my iniqui­ties, so often, and so louingly inspired me inuiting me to amendment, and so patiently expected my penance & con­uersion vntill this N. yeare of my age: notwithstāding all my vnthanckfulnes, disloyaltie, and infidelitie, wherby dif­ferring my conuersion, & despising his graces, I haue so impudently offended him; Hauing moreouer cōsidered that [Page 109] at the day of my Christening, I was so happely & holily vowed and dedicated vnto my God to be his childe, and that contrary to the profession, which then was made in my name, I haue so many and sundrie times, so execrably and de­testably profaned & violated my soule, imploying it, & opposing it against his diuine maiestie; At length recalling my self, & prostrating my self in hart and mind before the throne of his diuine iustice, I acknowledge, confesse, and yeald my self lawfully attached & con­uicted of high treason againste his di­uine maiestie, & guiltie of the death & passion of Iesus Christ, by reason of the hainous sinnes which I haue cōmitted, for which he died, and suffered the tor­ment of the crosse: so that consequent­ly, I am worthie to be cast away, and damned for euer.

2. But turning my self towards the throne of the infinit mercie, of the self same eternall God; hauing detested from the bottom of my hart, & with all my force, the iniquities of my life fore-passed, I most humbly require & crane pardon, grace, and mercie with entire [Page 110] absolution from my crime, through virtue of the passion and death of the same Saueour & redeemer of my soule, vpon whome relying, as vpon the only foundation of my hope, I confir­me againe, advowe, and renew, the sa­cred profession of loyall seruice and fi­delitie, made in my name & behalfe, vn­to my God at my Baptising: renoun­cing the diuel, the flesh, and the world, abhorring their execrable suggestions, vanities, and concupiscences for all the time of this present life, and for all eter­nitie; And conuerting my self vnto my most gracious and mercifull God, I de­sire, deliberate, purpose, and fully reso­lue irreuocablie, to honour him, serue him, and loue him, now and for euer: giuing him for this end, and dedica­ting, and consecrating, my spirit with all his faculties, my soule with all her functiōs, my hart with al his affectiōs, & my bodie with all his sences: protesting neuer more to abuse any one part of my being or nature, against his diuine will and soueraigne maiestie: to whom I offer vp and sacrifice my self in spirit, to be to him a loyall, obedient, & faithfull [Page 111] creature for euer, without euer vnsaying reuoking or repēting me of my promise.

3. But yf alas, through suggestion of myne enemie, or through humane frailtie, I chaunce at any time to trans­gresse in any thing whatsoeuer, this my purpose and resolution, I protest and determin frō this verie houre, through the grace and ayde of the holy Ghost, to arise againe so soone as I shall per­ceaue my fall, & so to returne a new to the diuine mercie, without any stay or delay whatsoeuer. This is my will, in­tention, and resolution irreuocable & inuiolable, which I aduowe, and con­firme without reseruation or exception in the same sacred presence of my God, and in the sight of the triumphāt chur­che, and in the face of the churche mi­litant my mother, who vnderstandeth & registreth this my declaration in per­sō of him, who as her officer hearth me & taketh my confession in this action.

4. Let it please thee ô my eternall God, allmightie and all good Father, Sonne, and holy Ghost, to confirme & strengthen me in this resolution, and to accept this my cordiall and inward sa­crifice, [Page 102] in the odour of sweetnes. And as it pleased thee to lightē me with thy holy inspiration, & to giue me the will to purpose fully, so graunt me also for­ce and grace to performe it perfectly. O my God, thou art my God: God of my hart, God of my soule, and God of my spirit: and for such do I reuerently, thanckfully, and louingly acknowled­ge, honour, and adore thee, now, and for euer. Liue ô Iesus.

A deuoute manner to receaue absolution. CHAP. 21.

1. THIS protestation ended, be verie attentiue, and open the eares of thy hart, to heare the wordes of thy absolution, which the Sauiour of thy soule him self, sitting vpon the throne of his mercie, will pro­nounce from aboue in heauen, before all his Angells and Saints, at the same time, that the priest in his name doth absolue thee heere beneath vpō earthe. So that all that glorious troupe of the blessed citizens of heauen, reioicing at this happie successe of thine, will sing a spirituall canticle with incomparable [Page 103] ioye, and all giue the kisse of peace & felowship vnto thy hart, now sanctified and reestablished in grace.

2. Behold here (my Philotheus) an admirable contract, which passeth be­tween thee and thy God, by which thou makest so happie a peace with his diui­ne maiestie, for as much as giuing thy selfe to him, thou gainest him & thy self also, for life euerlasting. It remaineth onely to take penne in hād, & subscribe with a ioyfull hart to the act of thy pro­testation, and afterward, thou shalt goe to the sacred Altar, where God on the other side will reciprocallie, signe and seale thy absolution, and the promise which he makes vnto thee of the king­dome of heauen, putting him self by his venerable sacrament, as a sacred seale & signet vpon thy renewed hart.

3. Thus I trowe (Philotheus) thy soule wilbe wholly purged from sinne, and all sinfull affectiōs. Yet because these affe­ctiōs are easilie bredd & borne a new in the soule, through our failtie, & our re­bellious cōcupiscēce, which may well be mortified, but neuer wholie extīguished while we liue in this mortall life: I will [Page 114] giue thee some instructions, which being well practized, may preserue thee hereafter from mortall sinne, and from all inclination or affection therof, so that it may neuer hencefoorth find pla­ce in thy hart. And for so much as the self same instructions, serue also for a more perfect and higher purification of the soule, before I deliuer them, I will say a word or two of this absolute and perfect puritie of mind, whervnto I would so willinglie conduct thee.

That we must purifie our selues from the affections which we haue to veniall sinnes. CHAPTER 22.

1. AS the day light encreasing, we see by degrees more cleer­ly in a looking glasse, the spot­tes and blemishes of our countenance: euen so as the inward light of the holy Ghost illustrates our consciences, we see more plainly and distinctly, the sin­nes, inclinations, and imperfections, which may hinder vs to attaine vnto [Page 115] true deuotion. And the very same light which causeth vs to discouer those spotts and deformities, enflameth vs likewise with desire to clense and purge vs from them.

2. Thou shalt discouer in thy self (my deare Philotheus) that besides mor­tall sinns & the affection to them, from which by the afore mentioned exer­cises, thou hast bene purged, there re­maine yet in thy soule, diuerse inclina­tions and affections to veniall sinnes. I do not say thou shalt discouer veniall sinnes, but inclinations to them: now the one is farre differēt from the other: for we can neuer be alltogether free from veniall sinnes in this mortall life, at least so to continue in that puritie for any long time, but we may be well without all affection vnto veniall sinns: for (to giue an example of this diffe­rence) it is one thinge to lie once or twice merrilie, in things of small im­portance, and another thing to take pleasure in lying, and to beare an affe­ction to this kind of sinne.

3. I say then, that one must purge his soule from all the affections and incli­nations [Page 116] that he feeleth to venial sinnes, that is to say, that he must not nourishe, voluntarilie a will to continue and per­seuer, in any kind of veniall sinne: for it would be too too great a negligence, to keepe wittingly and aware vnto vs in our conscience, a thing so displea­sing vnto God, as is the will to be wil­linge to displease him: for a venial sinne be it neuer so litle, displeaseth almigh­tie God, though not so hainously, that he will damne vs, or cast vs away for e­uer for the same. Yf then veniall sinne displease him, the will and affection which one hath to venial sinne, is no other thing, but a resolution and pur­pose to displease his diuine maiestie. And how is it possible, that a gene­rous and noble soule, should indu­re, not onely to displease his God, but to beare an affection to displea­se him.

4. Such affections (my Philotheus) are directly contrarie to deuotion, as affection and delight in morrall sinnes, are opposite to charitie: They wearie and weaken the forces of the spirit, hin­der the course of diuine consolations, [Page 117] open wide a gate to tentations: and all-though they kil not the soule outright, yet they make it exceeding sick and feeble. Dead flies (saith the wiseman) marre the sweetnes of an ointment: but those which eate thereof in passing, spoyle nothing but that which they ta­ke, leauing the rest vntainted: but when they linger long and die in the ointment, they marre both the vir­tue and valew of it, and leaue it no­thing worth but to be cast away. So veniall sinnes, chauncing to fall in a deuout soule, and not staying the­re any time, do not much harme vn­to it: but yf the same sinnes dwell in the soule, through the affection & delight wherwith she entertaineth them, they make hir without doubt, to leese the sweetnes of the oint­ment, which is the grace of holie de­uotion.

5. Spiders kill not the bees in theire hiues, but they spoile and cor­rupt their honie, and entangle their honniecombs with theire cobweb­bes, so that the bees can not goe for­ward in theire worke. This is to be [Page 118] vnderstood, when spiders get into the hiues so that they make their aboade in them. So venial sinnes kill not our sou­les, but yet marre the honnie of our deuotion, and intangle the powers of our soule so stronglie with naughtie customes & bad inclinatiōs, that it can no more exercise charitie with promp­tnes and alacritie, in which deuotion consisteth: but this is to be vnderstood when veniall sinnes do dwell in our conscience, by the affection & delight which we beare vnto them.

6. It is no hainous sinne (my Philo­theus) to tell some litle lie in pastime, to exceed somwhat in needlesse talk, in carelesse lookes, in apparel, in myrthe, in play, in dancing, and such like toyes, so that as soone as we perceaue these ghostly spiders entered into our soules, we chase them and driue them presen­tly away, as the Bees driue away the corporal spiders: but if we permit them to stay in our hartes, and not only this, but if we bend our affections to retaine and multiplie them, we shal soone find our honnie destroyed, and made bitter, and the hiue of our conscience pestered [Page 119] and spoiled. But I say once againe: what likely hood is there, that a noble and virtuous soule, would take pleasure in displeasing God: and delight her self in becōming disagreable vnto him, and to retaine a desire and will to do that, which she knoweth to be grie­ueous vnto him.

That we ought to purifie our selues from affection and delight of vnprofita­ble and dangerous things. CHAPTER 23.

1. GAMING, dancing, feasting, brauerie, maskes, comedies & such like pastimes, of them sel­ues are not hurtfull at all, but indiffe­rent, and may be well and ill vsed: yet notwithstanding, these things be dan­gerous: and for one to beare an af­fection vnto them, is yet more dange­rous. I say then Philotheus, that all­though it be no sinne at all, but lawfull to play, to daunce, to deck and adorne thy self, according to thy estate and the custome of times, to heare honest co­medies, [Page 120] to banquet with sober compa­nie: yet to delight in such things, is exceeding dangerous, and alltogether contrarie to the exercise of deuotion. It is no sinne to do such things: but it is very ill to sett thy affection that way. It is pittie to sow such vaine and foolish thoughts in the fertil field of our hart, which take vp the roome of virtuous impressions, and hinder the iuice of the soule from nourishing good and wholsome inclinations.

2. The auncient Nazarits abstained not onely from all that which might inebriate or make them dronck, but from grapes allso, and the veriuce of grapes: not that the grape of veriuce maketh drūke, but because it was to be feared least tasting the veriuce, they should be tempted to eate the grapes, and by eating grapes they should stirre vp an appetite of drincking wine. I denie not but we may somtimes vse these dangerous thinges, but I auouch absolutely, that we can neuer setle our affection and delight on them, without detriment to deuotion. The Stagges when they feele themselues ouerfatt, [Page 121] retire to the bushes and thickets of the forests, because they perceaue that being loaden with their owne waight, they should not be able to runne, yf they should chaunce to be hunted. In like manner the hart of man surcharged with these superfluous, vnprofitable, and perillous affections, cannot runne after his God with promptnes, facilitie, and willingnesse of mind, which is the true point of deuotion.

3. Litle children sweat and tyre them selues to catche butterflies, and no bodie thincks it ill in them, because they be litle children: but is it not a ridiculous thing, nay rather is at not lamentable, to see men of vnderstan­ding and yeares, to be besotted with the delight of such fond toyes, and base trifles, as these of which we speake? which besides that they be alltogether vnprofitable, put vs likewise in euident danger of erring, and disordering our selues, in the pursute of holinesse and pietie. For this cause (my deer Philo­theus) I say that we must necessarilie purifie and cleanse our selues frō these affections: for though the acts them [Page 122] selues be not alwaies cōtrarie to deuo­tion, the inclination & delight in such actions is alwaies damageable vnto it.

That we must purge our selues, from bad inclinations. CHAP. 24.

1. BESIDES these vitious inclinatiōs, we haue (my Philotheus) certai­ne naturall inclinations to some kind of acts: which inclinatiōs, because they proceed not in vs frō our particu­lar sinnes, are not properlie sinnes, nei­ther mortall nor veniall, but are onely imperfections, & defects; for exāple the holie matron S. Paula, according to the relation of S Hierom, had a great incli­natiō to griefe and sadnes, so that at the death of her children and husband, she was allwaies like to die for sorow: this was an imperfection in this blessed wo­man, but no sinne at all, since she had it against her will, for no doubt she took no pleasure in this kind of sorow.

2. There be some that naturallie are light of behaueour, others stubborne & sullen, others hard to receaue & admitt another mās coūcell, other some prone to indignatiō, others to choller, others [Page 123] to loue: & to be brief, few shalt thou find, in whome some such imperfection may not be noted. Which allthough they be as it were proper & natural to euery one, yet by a care & contrarie affection, they may be moderated & corrected, yea & be altogether purged & deliuered of them.

3. And I tel thee (ô Philothee) that it is necessarie that thou endeuour so to doe. Men haue found the meanes to change bitter almond-trees into sweet, only by percing thē close by the root, to lett out the bitter iuice of thē: why may we not thē, let soorth our peruerse inclinations, frō the root of our hart to become better? There is not so good a nature, but may be corrupted by vitious customs: nor so badd & stubborne a cō ­ditiō but may first by the grace of God & next by good industrie & diligēce, be corrected, and surmounted. To this end therfore wil I now set thee downe some instructions & exercises, by which thou mayst purge thy soule frō all affectiōs to veniall sinnes, & from these naturall im­perfectiōs & withall fortifie & arme thy self against all mortall sinne. God giue thee grace to practize them well & effe­ctually.

THE SECOND PART OF THIS INTRODVCTION, Containing diuers aduices for the lifting vp of the soule to God by prayer, and by vse of the Sacraments.

Of the necessity of prayer. CHAPTER I.

1. THE exercise of prayer pla­ceth our vnderstanding in the cleernes of the diuine light, and exposeth our cold affection, to be war­med by the heate of heauenly loue; there is nothing that so much purgeth our vnderstanding from ignorance, and our will frō depraued affections. Prayer is the water of benedictiō which being sprinckled vpon our soule, maketh the [Page 125] plants of our good desires to flourishe, washeth our minds from imperfectiōs, and tempereth the inflamed alteration, which passions produce in our harts.

2. All prayer hath these good effects, but aboue all I counsel thee to applie thy self to mentall and cordiall prayer, and especially that which hath for its matter or subiect, the life and passion of our Lord: for beholding him often by meditation, thy soule wilbe filled with him, thou wilt learne his cariage, as it were and gestures, and conforme all thy actions according to the measure and model of his. He is the light of the world: it is in him then, by him, and for him, that we must be cleered and illumi­nated; he is the louely tree of life: vnder his shadow then, must we refresh our selues; he is the liuing well of Iacob, to washe away all the ordure and staines of our soule. To be short, we see that litle children by hearing their mothers speak and pratling often with them, do come to learne their language: and so we continually conuersing with our Sa­uiour by meditation, obseruing and pondering reuerently, his words, his [Page 126] workes, & his affections, shal soone, by the helpe of his grace, learne to speak, to work, to will & desire as he did. We must rest vpō this resolution my Philo­theus, & beleeue me we can not come vnto God the father by any other gate but this: & euē as the glasse of a mirrour cannot stay or retaine the rayes of our ey-sight, vnlesse the back be seeled with tinne or leade: so the deitie cannot well be cōtemplated by vs in this world, yf it were not ioyned to the sacred humani­tie of our Sauiour, whose life & death is the most proportionable, delicious, sweet and profitable obiect, that we can choose for our ordinary meditatiō Our Sauiour, not for nothing caled him self the bread of heuen: for as bread is to be eaten with all sorts of meats: so our Sa­uiours life must be meditated, conside­red, and sought after, in all our prayers & actions. This life & death, hath been disposed and distributed, into diuers points and passages to serue for medi­tation, by many authours: those whom I councell thee to vse, are S. Bonauen­ture, Bellitan, Bruno and Capilia.

3. Employ in it euery day an houre, & [Page 127] that before dinner, yf it may be, beti­mes at the beginning of the morning: for then shalt thou find thy spirit lesse troubled and distracted, & more freshe & disposed after the repose of the night. But spend no more thē an houre, vnlesse thy spiritual father expressely cōmād it.

4. Yf thou canst performe this exer­cise in the church, and find leasure and tranquilitie there, it would be a place most commodious: for no bodie, ne­ther father nor mother, nor wife nor husband, nor any other whosoeuer, can with any reason hinder thee to stay at the least one houre in the church: wheras being subiect by any obligation ordutie to such parties as I haue named in thy owne house, thou wilt not be able peraduenture, to promise thy self an houre so free and quiet.

5. Begin all thy deuotions, be they mentall or vocal, with the presence of God: keep this rule without faile, and without exception: and in short time thou shalt perceaue, what inestimable profit thou shalt reape by it.

6. If thou wilt beleeue my councell, accustom thy self to say thy Pater, Aue, [Page 128] and Creed in Latin: but learne likewise to vnderstand well the words contained in them, and what they signifie in thyne owne lauguage: to the end that saying them in the common language of the church, thou maist iointly tast and relish, the admirable and delicious sen­ce of those holy prayers: which thou must vse to say, fixing profoundly thy thoughts vpon euery word of them, and procuring to folow the sence of them with an enflamed affectiō: not making post hast, or striuing to say a great many; but rather studying and ende­uouring to say those which thou sayest, from thy hart: for one onely Pater no­ster, sayd with feeling and heedfull at­tention of mind and desire, is better worth by faire, thē many recited hastely and with litle ponderation of the mea­ning of them.

7. The beades or rosary of our ladie, is a very profitable kind of prayer, yf it be vsed as it ought: which that thou mayst practize, prouide thy self of some litle treatise or other, of many which be sett foorth for that purpose. It is good also to say the letanies of our La­die, [Page 129] of the Saints, of our Sauiour, and other such vocall prayers, as are in ap­proued manualls & primers allowed of by the church: with this item, that yf God haue bestowed vpon thee the gift of mētall prayer, thou reserue alwais the principall place and time for it. So that yf after thy mentall exercise, either for multitude of thy affaires, or for any other respect, thou be not able to say thy accustomed vocall prayers: be not therfore troubled or disquieted, but rest content to say before, or after thy me­ditations, the Pater noster, Aue, and Creed of the Apostles.

8. Yf in making thy vocall prayers, thou feele thy hart drawen and invited to inward mentall prayer, refuse not to go where this good motion inuiteth thee, but let thy spirit decline faire and softly on that side: and care not much for missing thy vocal prayers, which thou didst intend; for the mentall prayer which thou hast made insteed therof, is much more pleasing to God, and more profitable for thy soule. I except from this rule, the ecclesiasti­call office, for yf thou be bound to say [Page 130] it by obligation of order, or state of life, that duty must first of all be payed and performed.

9. Yf it should so happen, that all the whole morning should passe away, wi­thout performance of this sacred exer­cise of mentall prayer, either for the multitude of thy affaires, or any other cause (yet procure by all meanes possi­ble that such causes happē but seldom) endeuour to repaire this losse after din­ner, in some houre furthest after meate: for doing it presently after repast, be­fore degestion be well made, thy health would be much impaired, and thou shouldst find thy self ouercharged with drousines. But yf all the day long, thou canst not recouer this losse, recom­pence it at least by multiplying iacula­torie prayers, and by reading of some book of deuotion, with some penaunce or other for committing this fault: and therwithall make a strong resolution, to sett thy self in good order all the day folowing.

A breef method of meditation. And first of the presence of God, which is the first point of Preparation. CHAPTER 2.

1. BVT perhaps (Philotheus) thou knowest not, how thou shouldst make this mentall prayer, which wee so much cōmend vnto thee: for it is a thing that in this our vnhappie age, verie few are acquainted withall. For this cause I present thee a breef & sim­ple method to that end: vntill such time as by reading of many good bookes that haue been cōposed vpon this sub­iect, and aboue all by often vse & exer­cise, thou be more amplie instructed. And first I sett thee downe the Prepara­tion, which consisteth in two points: wherof the first is to place thy self in the presence of God; and the second, to in­uoke his ayde and assistance. To place thy self in the presence of God, I pro­pound vnto thee the four principall meanes folowing, wherwith thou maist help thy self in this thy beginning.

2. The first consisteth in a liuelie & [Page 132] feeling apprehension of the omnipre­sence of God, that is to say, to concea­ue and acknowledge, that God is in all, and euery where, and that there is ne­ther place nor thing in the world, wher­in he is not most assuredly & certaine­ly present: so that as the birds, whersoe­uer they flie, encounter always with the ayre, wherwith they ar alway compassed: in like māner, where euer we be, we find God still present. Euery one knoweth this veritie, but euery one is not atten­tiue to apprehend, and ponder it. Blind men that see not a Prince who is pre­sent with them, omitt not to respect & honour him, when they are admoni­shed of his presence: but because they see him not with their eyes, they easily forgett that he is present, and forget­ting him, more easily omit their due respect and reuerence. Alas we see not God (my Philotheus) who is present allway with vs, though faith do aduer­tise vs of his presence: yet not seeing him with our eyes, we often forgett our selues, and therfore comport and carie our selues, as though God were very farre from vs. For allthough we [Page 133] knowe well enough that he is present in all things; yet not pondering, nor waying this presence, it is euen as much as yf we knew it not. Therefore euer before prayer, we must prouoke our soule, to an attentiue sight (as it were) and consideration of Gods presence: so did holy Dauid, when he cried out: If I mount into heauen, O my God, thou art there: yf I descend into hell thou art there pre­sent: we must thē vse the words of Iacob, who after he had seene the mystery of the sacred ladder, he sayd: O how holy and dreadfull is this place! verely God is in this place, and I knew it not: that is, he thought not of it: for he was not igno­rant, that God was in all, and euery where. Whē thou comest thē to prayer (Philotheus) say inwardly to thy owne hart: O my hart, my hart, God almigh­tie is heer present in very deed.

3. The second meane to place thy self in this sacred presence is, to thinck, and consider, that God is not only in the place where thou art: but that he is by a most particular and peculiar man­ner in thy hart, and in the very bottom of thy spirit, which he quickeneth and [Page 134] animateth with his diuine presence, being there as the hart of thy hart, and the spirit of thy spirit. For as thy soule is as it were spread through all thy bo­die, and in euery part and parcell ther­of, and yet is in a more speciall and re­markeable manner present in the hart: so likewise God being verily present in all things, assisteth notwithstanding with a more particular & notable pre­sence in our spirit. For this cause Dauid calleth God, the God of his hart, and S. Paul sayeth, that, we liue, we moue, and wee are in God. In consideration then of this veritie, stirre vp in thy hart, a great reuerence towards thy God, who is so inwardly present in thy soule.

4. The third manner of presence is, to consider and behold our blessed Sa­uiour, who in his sacred humanitie, be­holdeth from heauen all persons in the world, but especially all Christians, who are his children, and most particularly such as be in prayer: whose actions and behauiour, he marketh most louingly. And this is not a simple imagination of our phantasie, but an infallible veritie: for allthough we see not him, yet he [Page 135] frō thence aboue cōsidereth & looketh vpō vs. S. Stephen saw him in such sort, viewing & marking his comportmēt in his martyrdom. So that we may truly say with the espouse: Behold him there be­hind the wal, look where he is looking through the windowes, seeing through the lettise.

5. The fourth manner of presence, consisteth in helping our selues with a simple imagination, by representing to our thoughts, our Sauiour in his sacred humanitie, as yf he were hard by vs, ac­cording as we are accustomed to repre­sent our frinds to our fancie, and to say, me thincks I see such a one doing this or that, it seemes vnto me that I behold him thus or thus attired, and such like. But yf the venerable sacrament of the altar were present, then this presence were reall, & not by meere imgina­tion, for the forces and appeerance of bread should be as a tapistrie, behind which our Lord being really present, seeth & marketh our actions, although we see not him in his owne likenes.

6. Vse then, (my Philotheus) these fower manners of placing thy soule in the presence of God before prayer: but [Page 136] they must not be all employed at once, one only at one time will suffice, and that briefly and simplie, not staying long, or spending much time in cal­ling this presence to thy mind.

Of Inuocation, the second point of Preparation. CHAPTER 3.

1. INVOCATION, is made in this manner. Thy soule remem­bring and conceauing her self to be in the presence of God, prostrate before his diuine maiestie with all re­uerence, acknowledgeth her self most vnworthy to abide before so soueraigne and glorious an excellency: yet kno­wing notwithstanding, that his good­nes will haue it so, she humbly demaun­deth grace of him, to serue him well, and adore him purely in this her medi­tation.

2. Yf thou wilt, to this end thou mayst vse some short and inflamed words, such as be these of holy Dauid. Cast me not (ô God) from thy face: take [Page 137] not from me the fauour of thy holy spirit. Suf­fer thy face to shine vpon thy seruant; and I will consider thy meruaites. Giue me vn­derstanding, and I will ponder thy law: and keep it with all my hart. I am thy seruant, giue me vnderstanding: and such like as these.

3. It would be good also to call vpon thy good Angel, and vpon the sacred persons which were present at the my­sterie that thou doest meditate on. As for example; in the meditation of the death of our Lord, thou maist inuocate our blessed Lady, S. Iohn, S. Mary Magdalen, the good thieefe: that the inward feelings, and motions, which they receiued in their soules at that ti­me, may be likewise at this instant communicated vnto thee. So in the meditation of thine owne death, thou mayst inuoke thy good Angel gardian, (who will be present at thy departure) desiring him to inspire thee with con­uenient considerations. And the like may be done in other like mysteries.

Of the third point of preparation, consi­sting in proposing the mystery which we meane to meditate. CHAPTER 4.

1. AFTER these two ordinarie pointes of preparation, there is a third, which is not com­mon vnto all sorts of meditatiōs which some call, the forming or figuring of the place, or an interiour lecture, or reading of the passage to be meditated on. And this is nothing els, but to repre­sent vnto thy imagination, the summe and substance of the mysterie which thou wilt meditate, and to paint it out in thy thoughts so liuelie, as though it passed reallie & verylie in thy presence. For example sake: yf thou wouldest me­ditate our Lord vpon the crosse, imagin thy self to be present vpon the mount of Caluary; and that there thou behol­dest and hearest, all that is done or sayd in the passion of our Lord; or yf thou wilt (for it cometh all to one end) ima­gin [Page 139] to the self, that in thy very same pla­ce where thou art, they crucifie our Sa­uiour, in such māner, as the holy Euan­gelists doe describe.

2. The like may be done, when thou wilt meditate of death, as I haue noted in the meditation therof: and likewise in the meditation of hell: and in all such mysteries, in which visible and sensible things are hādled; for as touching other sorts of mysteries, of the greatnes of God; of the excellencie of virtue; of the end for which we were created, and such like, which be inuisible things, and not subiect to the apprehension of our sen­ces; in these questionlesse, we cānot vse this kind of imaginatiō. True it is, that we may vse some similitude or compa­rison, to help our consideration withall in such inuisible mysteries, but those si­militudes are hard to be mett with; and my meaning is to deale with thee but plainly, so that thy spirit be not wee­ried, and ouerlaboured in searching out curious inuentions.

3. By the meanes of this imagina­tion, we lock vp our spirit as it were, wi­thin the closet of the mysterie which [Page 140] we meane to meditate: to the end it range not idly hether, and thether; euen as we shutt vp a bird in a cage, that she flie not away; or as we tye a hauke by her leash, that so she be forced to tarie quietly vpon the hand.

4. Some cunninger maisters will perchaunce councell thee, that it is bet­ter to vse only a simple thought or act of faith, in beleeuing the mysterie, and a brief apprehension altogether mentall and spirituall, therof; Others that we frame within our selues the place, and maner, or the historie proposed to me­ditate, and not considering it as yf it passed in some other place without thee, or farr distant from thee: But these wayes are to subtil and hard for young beginners; and therfore vntill such time as Gods grace do lifte thee higher, I councell thee (ô Philotheus) to keep thee in this low valley, which I haue shewed vnto thee.

Of the considerations and discources of our vnderstanding; which are the second part of meditation. CHAPTER 5.

1. AFTER the acts of imaginatiō, which we haue described in the former chapters, folow the acte of our vnderstanding, which we call properly meditation: and is no other thing, but one, or many considerations made by our reason, to stirre vp our affections to God, and Godly things. For in this is meditation different from studie, and discourcing, which are not vndertaken to obtaine virtue, or the loue of God, but for other respects, and intentions, as to become learned, to write, dispute, or talke intelligiblie, of such like matters.

2. Hauing then shutt vp thy mind and thought (as I said before) within the bounds, and limits of the subiect, which thou wilt meditate on, either by imaginarie representation, yf the mat­ter [Page 142] may be subiect to the sences; or by a simple proposing and conceit of it, yf it be a matter aboue sence, and wholly spirituall: begin to make considera­tions, and discourses therof, according to the exāples which thou maist see redy made in the meditatiōs aboue written.

3. And yf so be thy soule find tast, fruite, and light enough in any one of the consideratiōs or points which thou hast discourced vpon: stay there with­out going any further to any other point; doing in this as the thriftie bees do, which neuer leaue the flower they once light on, so long as they find any honny to be sucked out of it. But if thou find not tast enough according to thy desire in any point, after thou hast tried a litle by discourcing on it, & like a good merchant, hauing as it were cheapned a while in that point, for to gaine some swetnes of deuotion, then passe on faire and softly to some other poinct or consideration, and all without forcing thy thoughts to much, making to speedie hast, to runne ouer all the points of thy meditation. For one point well pondered, is enough for once, and [Page 143] the other points may serue thee for another time.

Of the affects and resolutions of our will, the third part of meditation. CHAPTER 6.

1. MEDITATION poureth out abundance of good motions in our will, or the affectiue part of our soule: such as are, the loue of God & of our neighbour; the desire of Paradise, and eternall glory; zeale of the saluatiō of soules; imitatiō of the life of our Lord; cōpassiō, ioye, feare of iudge­ment, of hell, of being in the disgrace of God; hatred of sinne; confidence in the goodnes, and mercy of God; shame and confusiō for our naughty life passed; In these and such like affections, our spirit must burst out, and extend and stretche it self, as much as is possible And yf thou desire to learne an easie method how to do so, reade the preface of the medita­tions of Andrew Capillia, where he sheweth plainly the maner and trace of dilating and amplifiyng, and exten­ding these affects of out soule: and [Page 144] more largely doth Arias declare the same in his treatise of prayer.

2. Now thou must not content thy self with these generall affections, be they neuer so feruourous and holie, nor stand onlie vpon them, but des­cend to speciall and particular resolu­tions, for thy correction and amend­ment. For example; the first word that our Lord spake vpon the crosse, will doubtlesse stirre vp in thy soule a good affect of imitation, and a desire to par­don thy enemies, and to loue them for thy Saueours sake and example: but this generall affect and desire is to small pur­pose, yf thou adde not to it a particular resolution, in this manner; Well since my blessed redeemer so louingly did pardon these obstinate enemies of his, hanging vpon the bitter crosse, I will not heerafter be troubled or vexed whē I heare my neighbour, or my seruant, or felow N. vse such or such tanting words against me: I will not be aggrieued at this or that despite, or contemptuous trick, that he, or she doth vse against me: but rather I will endeuour to say & doe such and such a thing, to gaine his [Page 145] good will, and to mollifie his anger or indignation cōceaued against me. And the like descent to particular purposes of amendment, must be made in all other generall affections. By this mea­nes (Philotheus) thou shalt correct and amend thy defects in very short time: wheras otherwise, by only generall af­fects and desires, amendment will be made but hardly and slowly.

Of the conclusion of the exercise, and spirituall posy to be ga­thered out of it. CHAPTER 7.

1. LAST of all, we must conclude our meditation by three acts, which must be done with the greatest humilitie that we can. The first act is, Thanks-giuing vnto God for the holy affections, and resolutions, or pur­poses, which he hath inspired into vs: and for his goodnes, and mercy, which we haue discouered in the discourse of our meditation.

2. The second acte, is an oblation, wherin we present and offer vnto God, the self same goodnes, & mercie of his, which we haue tasted in meditating; the death also, and passion, virtues, and merits of his only Sonne our redeemer; and consequently with them, all the affections and resolutions which by his holy grace, we made in our exercise.

3. The third acte, is a petitiō or sup­plication; in which we demaund of God, and earnestly coniure him (as it were) to communicate and impart vnto vs, the graces, virtues, and merits of his deer Sonne; and to blesse the affections and resolutions which we haue made in his honour, and name, to the end we may faithfully put them in execution. After these three acts, we must pray for the whole churche of God, for our countrie, pastours, parents, and frinds: imploying and imploring to that end, the intercession of our blessed Ladie, of the glorious Angels, & holy Saints of heauen. Lastly I haue aduised that thou shouldst say a Pater, an Aue, and a Creed; which is the generall and neces­sarie prayer of all the faithfull.

4. To all these acts I haue added, that thou shouldst gather a litle nose­gay of deuotion; my meaning in this may be vnderstood by this example. Such as haue delighted them selues walking in a pleasant garden, go not ordinarily from thence, without taking in their hands, four or fiue flowers to smell on, and keepe in theire hands all the daye after. Euen so, when our mind hath spirituallie recreated it self, by affectiue discourcing and medita­tion of some sacred mysterie, we should cull out, one or two points which we haue found most pleasing to our tast, and most agreeable to our vnderstanding, vpon which we might busie our mind, and as it were mentally smell theron all the rest of the day. And this must be done immediatlie in the self same place, where we made our meditation, walking alone a turne or two, and binding those points in our memorie, as we would do flowers in a litle nosegay.

Some profitable instructions and aduices for meditation. CHAPTER 8.

1. ABOVE all things Philotheus, when thou arisest frō thy me­ditation, remēber carefully the resolutions & purposes which thou hast deliberated, and made: endeuouring to put them in practize that very day. This is the chiefest fruict of meditatiō, with­out which oft times, it is not onely vn­profitable, but hurtfull; for virtues me­ditated, and not practized, do puffe vp the mind, and make vs ouerboldlie pre­sume that we be such in deed, as we re­solued, and purposed to be: which doubtlesse is true, when our resolutions be liuelie & solid: but they are not such, but rather they are vaine and dāgerous, yf they be not brought to practize and exercise. We must therfore vse all mea­nes, and searche out all occasions of executing our good purposes: so that, yf in my meditation I resolued by Gods grace, to winne the minds of such as [Page 149] haue offended me, by faire meanes, and sweet behaueour: I must cast this verie day how to meet with them, to salute them courteouslie; or yf I cannot meet with them, to speak well of them, and to pray vnto God for them.

2. At the end of thy exercise, take heede thou giue not thy hart scope to raunge and wander; least thou spill the delicious balme of good thoughts, and holie desires which thou hast receaued by prayer. My meaning is, that for some time after, thou keep thy self silent and quiet, & not presentlie with hastinesse, but fair & softlie, remoue thy hart from thy prayers, to thy affaires: and in the verie entraunce into other busines, en­deuour to keep as long as is possible, the feeling and tast of those good af­fects, which thou hast receaued in me­ditation. Any man that had receaued some pretious liquor in a faire porcel­lan, or china platter, to carie home to his house, would go with it, faire and softly, neuer almost looking aside, but always either before him, for feare that by stumbling he should marre all; or else vppon his vessel, to see [Page 150] that he spill not the liquor which he so much esteemeth: Euen so must thou doe when thou hast ended thy medita­tion; not distract thy self all at once, but looking simplie before thee; as for example. If thou chance to meet with any whome thou art bound to heare or entertain, so that there is no remedie but thou must needs accommodate thy self to his conuersation, yet look often­times also vpon thy hart, that the pre­tious liquor of holie prayer, be not poured out, but the lest that may be.

3. Accustom thy self to passe with facilitie and easines, from prayer to all kind of businesse, which thy vocation and profession justly and lawfully re­quireth of thee, be they neuer so dif­ferent from the affections which thou receauest in prayer: So let the aduo­cate learne to passe from prayer to plea­ding, the merchant to his traffick, the maried woman to her houswifrie, and care of her familie, with that sweetnes and tranquillitie, that their minds be neuer a whit troubled or vexed ther­with: for since the one and the other, that is, prayer and our necessarie oc­cupations, [Page 151] are according to the will of God, we must learne to go from the one to the other, with an humble and deuout spirit, and folow the will, and ordonance of God, both in the one and the other.

4. Many times immediatly after preparation, thy affection wilbe alto­gether fired, and inflamed, with deuo­tion to God: and then Philotheus, thou must lett go the bridle to thy affectiōs: that they may runne freely after the inuiting of Gods spirit, without kee­ping that method which I haue set downe. For although ordinarilie, con­siderations ought to goe before affe­ctions and resolutions: yet neuerthe­lesse, when the holy Ghost poureth foorth deuout affections, and holy motions in to thy soule without dis­cource and consideration, thou must not then spend time in discourcing the points of thy exercise; for those dis­cources serue for no other end, but to sture vp good affections, which in this case the holy Ghost graciously stirreth vp, and therfore need no discource at all. In a woorde, when so euer good [Page 152] affects, and deuout motions offer them selues vnto thee, receaue them pre­sently, and make them roome in thy hart, whether they come before, or after▪ all the considerations proposed in thy exercise. Though I haue placed in the aboue-written examples of me­ditation, the affections in order after all the considerations and points of discource: I did it only to distinguish more plainlie and intelligiblie the parts and acts to be vsed in prayer: so that notwithstanding that order there sett downe, take this for a generall rule, neuer to restrain, or with-hold thy affections once inflamed with any de­uout motion, but let them haue their free course: And this is to be vnder­stood, not only of the affections fo­lowing the considerations, but also of the three acts of thanks giuing, oblation, and petition, which may like­wise be vsed amid the considerations when they offer them selues feruently: although afterward, for the conclusion of the meditation, thou must repeat them againe.

5. As for resolutions and particular [Page 153] purposes drawne from those generall affections, make them alway after the affections them selues, and about the end of thy exercise, before the con­clusion of it: for yf we should pre­sent vnto our thoughts particular and familiar obiects, in the heat of our meditation and affection, they would put vs in danger of cooling our de­uotion, and to enter into distra­ctions.

6. Amid these affections and re­solutions, it is good to vse collo­quies, or familiar talke, as it were somtime with God our Lord, som­time with our blessed Ladie, with the Angels, and persons represented in the mysterie which we meditate, with the Saints of heauen, with our selues, with our owne hart, with sinners, yea and with insensible creatures: as we see that holy Dauid doth in his psalmes, and other deuout Saints in their prayers and meditations.

Of the drynesse of affection, which often happeneth in meditating. CHAPTER 9.

1. IF it chaunce thee to find no tast or comfort in thy meditation: I charge thee Philotheus notwith­standing, to be in no sort troubled or vexed therfore, but in such occasions somtimes open the dore to vocall pray­ers, and with deuout words in the best manner thou canst, complaine of thy self vnto our Lord, confesse thy vnwor­thynes, desire him to be thy helper; somtme kisse reuerently some image of his, and say vnto him these words of Iacob: I will not leaue thee Lord, vntill thou giue me thy blessing. Or those of the Ca­nanaean woman: yes in deed Lord, I am a dogge, but yett dogges eate the crummes that fall from their maisters table. Other times take some spirituall book in thy hand, read it with heed and attention, vntill such time as thy spirit be awakned, and reestablished in it self againe; stirre vp [Page 155] thy hart other times with corporall ge­stures of outward deuotion, prostrating thy self vpon the ground, laying thy ar­mes a crosse before thy brest, embra­cing a crucifix; which exteriour acts are onely to be vsed when thou art reti­red alone into some secret closet.

2. But yf after all this, thou obtaine no comfort, be the drinesse and baren­nesse neuer so great, afflict not thy self with it, but perseuer constantly in as de­uout a manner as thou canst, before al­mighty God. How many courtyers be there, that goe a hundred times in the yeare into the Princes chamber, with out hope of once speaking vnto him: only to be seene of him, & that he may take notice of thē, that they endeuour to shew their dutie to him? So must we (my deare Philotheus) come to the exercise of prayer, which is as it were Gods chamber of presence, purely and meerly to do our duty, and testifie our fidelitie. Yf it will please his diuine maiestie to talk with vs, to entertaine him self with vs by his holy inspirations and interiour consolations, it wilbe doubtlesse an inestimable honor to vs, [Page 154] [...] [Page 155] [...] [Page 156] and a pleasure aboue all pleasures: but yf it please him not to do vs this fa­uour, leauing vs without once spea­king vnto vs, no otherwise then yf he saw vs not, or yf we were not in his presence: we must not for all that go our way grumbling, or me­lancholie, but continew still patien­tly and with deuout behaueour, in the presence of his soueraigne goodnes; And then without faile our perseue­rance will be acceptable vnto him, he will take notice of our constancy and diligence, so that another time when we shall come before him, he will fauour vs, and passe his time (as we may say) with vs in heauenly con­solations, and make vs see and tast the beautie and deliciousnesse of holy prayer. And all though he should not shew vs this fauour, let vs content our selues Philotheus, it is an ouer­great honour for such silly earth­wormes as we are, to be in his sight and presence.

A morning exercise. CHAPTER 10.

BESIDES this maine exercise of mentall prayer and vocall, which thou oughst to performe once euery day, there be fiue other sorts of shorter prayers, which be as it were helpps, and braunches of the other principall exercise: amongst which the first is, that which we vse to make euery morning, as a generall preparation to all the works and actions of the day: which thou must make in this wise.

1. Giue thancks and adore God pro­foundly from thy hart, for the fauour that he hath done thee, in preseruing thee the night passed, from all kind of daungers: and yf in that time thou haue committed any sinne, craue pardon of him humblie for it.

2. Consider that this present day en­swing, is lent vnto thee, that in it thou mayest by liuing wel, gaine the day that is to come, of eternitie in heauen: and make a stedfast purpose to employ eue­ry part of this day to this intention.

[...]

[...] nour I consecrate this day folowing, & all the residue of my life. Then call vpon our blessed Ladie, vpō thy good Angel, and the Saints thy protectours, to the end they may all assist thee this day with their intercession.

5. All these spirituall acts and affe­ctions, must be done brieflie, and fee­linglie, before thou steppe out of thy chamber, yf it be possible: that by this holie preuention, all that thou art to doe the whole day folowing, may be bedewed, and watered with the blessing of God: and I pray thee my Philo­theus, neuer omitt this exercise.

An exercise for Euening. And of the examination of our conscience before bed time. CHAP. 11.

1. AS before thy corporall dinner in the morning, thou must ma­ke a spirituall dinner for thy soule by meditation: so likewise before thou giue thy bodie his supper, prouide a litle supper, or at least wise a spirituall collation for thy soule. Gaine then so much time from other affaires, a litle [Page 161] before supper time, as may suffice to pro­strate thy self before God, and to recol­lect thy spirit, before thy Lord Iesus Christ crucified (whome thou mayst represent vnto thy selfe, by a simple cōsi­deration & an inward view of thy mind) kindle againe the fire of thy morning meditation, by a dozen of liuelie aspi­rations, humiliatiōs, & louing glaunces vpon this beautifull Lord and Saueour of thy soule: Or els by repeating the points of thy meditation, in which thou feltest most sauour; or by sturing vp thy deuotion by some new spirituall obiect, according to that which thou best likest.

2. Touching the examinatiō of our cō ­science, which must allway be done im­mediatlie before thou goe to bed: euery one knoweth how it is to be performed.

1. We giue thancks to God, for ha­uing preserued vs the day past.

2. We examin carefullie how we haue behaued our selfs in euerie houre of the day: and to do this more easilie, we must consider where, with whome, in what, & how long we haue beene employed.

3. Yf we find by our examinatiō, that [Page 162] we haue done any good, we must giue God thancks therfore, by whose grace we did it: and contrariwise, yf we find our selues guilty of any euil, in thoughts words, or deeds; we must aske pardon of his infinit mercie, with a true reso­lution and purpose, to confesse it at the first occasion, and to amend it care­fully.

4. After this, we commend vnto his diuine prouidence, our soule and bodie, the holy churche, our parents, frendes, and countrie: we pray vnto our Ladie, our Angel gardian, the Saints our pro­tectours, that they would watche ouer vs, and for vs: and so with the blessing of God we go to take that corporall rest, which he hath ordained requisite for vs.

This exercise must neuer be forget­ten, no more then the other morning exercise before mentionned: for by that of the morning, thou openest the windowes of thy soule to the sunne of iustice: and by this of the euening, thou shuttest them warilie, against in­fernall darknes.

Of the spirituall retyring of the soule. CHAPTER 12.

IT is in this place (my deer Phi­lotheus) that I most affectuously desire thee to folow my councell: for in this article consisteth one of the most assured meanes of thy perpe­tuall profit.

1. As often as thou canst in the day time, recall thy soule home to her with-drawing chamber, there to ap­peer in the presence of God, by one of those fower meanes which we set dow­ne in the 2. chapter of this 2. part; and cōsider what God doeth, and what thou doest: and thou shalt find his eies turnd to thee wardes, and perpetuallie fastned vpon thee, by an incomparable loue. O my God (mayest thou say) wherfore do not I look alwayes vpon thee, as thou alwayes lookeest vpon me? wherfore thinckest thou so much vpon me, ô my Lord? and wherfore thinck I so litle vpō thee? where be wee, whether wander wee ô my soule? Our proper place is God himself, and whether do we straggle, and runne abroade?

2. As birds haue their nests vpō trees, to retire thē selues vnto, whē they stand in need; & deers haue bushes & thickets to hide & shroude thē selues, & to take the coolenes and shadowe in the sum­mers heat: euē so, my Philotheus, should our harts choose out euery day some place, either vpō the mount of Caluary, or in the wounds of our redeemer, there to make our spirituall retreat at euery occasion; there to recreate & refreshe our selues amidst the turmoile of exte­riour affaires; there to be as in a fortresse, to defend our selues against the pour­suit of ghostly tentatiōs. Blessed is that soule that can truly & vnfainedly say to God: Thou art my house of refuge, my secure ramper, my couert against raine and tem­pests, & my shadow & shelter against heat.

3. Remember then Philotheus, to ma­ke euery day sondrie retreats and reti­rings into the solitary closet of thy hart whiles thou art outwardly busied in tē ­porall affaires & conuersations: for this mental or spiritual solitarinesse, cannot be hindered by the cōpanie of such as are about thee, for they are not about thy hart, but about thy bodie: thy hart [Page 165] for all their presence, remaineth alone by it self in the presence of God. This is the retreat that king Dauid made of­tentimes admist so many occupatiōs as the cares of a kingdom bringeth with it so he signifieth in a thousand places of his psalmes: O lord, for me, I am alwayes with theee. I he hold God alwayes before me. I haue lifted vp mine eyes vnto thee, ô my God that dwellest in heaue: Myne eyes be alwayes toward God. And againe it is certain, this inward retreat is not so hard to make many times a daye, since our conuersa­tions ordinarily are not so importāt, but one may somtimes break thē of, & with draw his hart to retire it into this spiri­tual solitude. Whē the father & mother of S. Catherin of Siena, had takē frō her all cōmoditie of place, & opportunitie of leasure, to pray & meditate: our Lord inspired her how to make a litle interior oratorie within her hart, within the which retyring her self mentally, she might amiddes these exteriour affaires, attēd to this holy solitude of hart: & whē the world assaulted her, then receaued shee no hurt nor incōueniēce, because she had shut vp her thoughts & affectiōs [Page 166] in her interiour closet, where she com­forted and solaced her self with her hea­uenly spouse. From experience of this exercise, she afterwards councelled her ghostly children, to build them a closet and chappel in their hart, and to dwell there alone in presence of their Lord.

5. Accustome thy self then to with­draw thy self often into thy self, where sequestred frō all men, thou maist, hart to hart, deal in thy soule with all mighty God, and say with Dauid: I haue beene made like the Pelican in the wildernesse: like the night-rauen or screech-owle within the house: I haue watched, & been like the solitary sparrow in the roofe of the house. Which words (beside their literall sence, which telleth vs that this great king took some houres from other affaires, to spēd in the solitaire contemplation of spiri­tuall things,) do moreouer shew vs in their mysticall sence, three excellent re­treats, and as it were three deuout ere­mitages, wherin we may exercise out solitarines; imitating our Lord and Sauiour, who vpon the mount of Cal­uary was like a Pelican in the desart, that quickeneth her dead chickens with [Page 167] her owne bloud: In his natiuitie in the forsaken stable, he was like the screech-owle in a ruinous howse, weeping and bewailing our sinnes and offences; And at the day of his ascension, he was like to the sparrow, retiring him self, and flying vp to heauen, which is as it were the roof of the world. And in all these three places may we make our spiritual retreat, euen amidst the la­bours and turmoiles of our exteriour occupations.

6. Holy Elzear Count of Arian, in Prouence, hauing beene long absent from his deuout and chast Delphina: she sent expresselie a messenger vnto him, to know of his health: and the blessed Count made her this aunswer. I am verie well, my deere wife, but yf thou desirest to see me, seek me in the wide wound of my blessed Sa­ueours side, for there dwell I, and there thou shalt find me: otherwise thou wilt search for me but in vaine. This was a right Christian knight in deede.

Of aspirations, iaculatory prayers, and good thoughts. CHAP. 13.

1. VVE retire our selues into God, because we aspire vn­to him: and we aspire vnto him, to retire vs into him; so that the aspiring of the soule vnto God, and the spirituall retreat, do mutuallie enter­taine one another, and both of them proceed and issue from holy thoughts.

2. Aspire then verie often from the bottom of thy hart vnto God (ô my Philotheus) through brief and short, yet burning & inflamed desires, darted from thy soule: admire his beautie; call vpon him for his assistance; cast thy self in spirit at the foote of the crosse; adore his goodnes; question with him often about thy saluatiō; giue thy soule vnto him a thousand times a day; fasten the inward view of thy soule vpon his inestimable sweetnes; stretch foorth thy band vnto him, as a litle child doth to his Father, that he may cōduct thee: place him in thy bosome like a sweet-smelling [Page 169] posie; plant him in thy soule like an encouraging standart: finally make a thousand sorts and diuersities of motions in thy hart, to enkindle the loue of God within thee, and to engen­der in thy soule a passionate and tender affection of this diuine spouse. Thus are iaculatory prayers made, which that great S. Austen so carefully councelled the deuout ladie Proba to vse. O Philo­theus, our spirit once giuing it self enti­relie to the companie, hant, and familia­ritie of his God, must needs be all per­fumed, with the odoriferous ayre of his perfections.

3. This exercise is nothing hard or vneasie: it may be enterlaced with all our occupations, without any hin­drance of them at all: for whether we retire our selues spirituallie, or whether we vse onlie these feruorous desires & darts of deuout loue; we do no other thing, but make certain short digres­sions, as it were stepping a litle from our busines in hand, to talke aword or two with our God: which can­not hinder, but rather help forward, the prosequuting and performance [Page 170] of the affaires which we were about. The weerie Pilgrim that taketh a litle wine to comfort his hart, and refreshe his mouth, allthough he make some li­tle stay in drinking, breaketh not off his iourney for all that stay, but gaineth more force to end it more speedilie, he only resting, to trauaile afterwards so much the better.

4. Many authours haue gathered to­gether abundantly, store of vocal aspi­rations, which out of all dout are very profitable: but in my iudgement, it is better not to bind thy self to any sort of words, but only pronounce either in hart, or by mouth, those words that feruent and holy loue shall by the way suggest vnto thee, for true loue will fur­nish thee, with as many as thou canst desire. True it is that there are certain words, with haue a particular force and efficacie to content and satisfie the hart in this behalf: such are the daintie si­ghes, and passionate complaints, and louing exclamations that are sowed so thick in the psalmes of Dauid; the of­ten inuocation of the sweet & delight­full name of IESVS; the louely passa­ges [Page 171] which be expressed in the Canticle of Canticles; and spirituall songs also do serue for this ende, when they be song with attention.

5. To conclude, as they that be ena­moured with humane and natural loue, haue almost alway their thoughts fixed vpon the parson beloued, their hart full of affection towards hir, their mouth flowing with hir praises; when their be­loued is absent they leese no occasion to testifie their passions by kind letters, and not a tree do they meet with all, but in the barck of it, they engraue the name of their darling: euen so such as loue God feruently, can neuer cease thincking vpon him, they draw their breath only for him, they sigh and so­row for their absence from him, all their talk is of him: and yf it were possi­ble, they would graue the sacred name of our Lord IESVS, vpon the brests of all the men in the world.

6. And certainly all creatures do in­uite them to this, and not one but in its kind, declareth vnto them the prai­ses of their beloued: and as S. Augustin sayth (taking it from S. Anthony) all [Page 172] things in this world speak vnto vs with a kind of lāguage, which though dumbe, in that it is not expressed in words, yet intelligiblie enough in regard of their loue: for all things prouoke vs and giue vs occasiō of good & godlie thoughts, from whence afterward do arise many motions and aspirations of our soule to God. Behold a noble exāple of this veri­tie. S. Gregorie Bishop of Naziāzen, (as he him self related to this people,) walking vpō the sea-shore, & cōsidering how the waues floting vpō the sands, left behind them manie litle cockle-shells, perewinkles, stalkes of hearbes, litle oy­sters, and such like stuffe which the sea cast vp, & spit as it were vpō the shore: & thē returning with other waues, swept them away & swallowed thē vp againe, while in the mean time the rocks round about him continued firme and immo­ueable, though the billowes neuer so rudelie beat & battered vpon thē: out of this sight & cōsideratiō (I say) S. Grego­ry deduced this goodly cogitation: that feeble & weak minded men, like cockle shelles, & stalkes of rushes, suffer them selues to be tossed vp & downe, & caried [Page 173] somtime by affliction, somtime by cō ­solation, liuing allways at the mercy of the vnconstant waues of chaunce and fortune, but that great & well grounded courages, perseuered stable, & vnmoued against all kinde of stormes & tempests: And then presently out of this thought, he drew & deriued those aspirations & affections of holy Dauid: Saue me ô Lord, for the waters haue pearced euen to my very soule. O Lord deliuer me from the deapth of these waters. I am plunged in the deapth of the sea, and the tempest hath ouerwhelmed mee. For at that time this glorious Saint was in great trouble, by the wicked vsurpa­tion which Maximus intended ouer his bishoprick. S. Fulgētius Bishop of Rus­pa, being present at a generall assemblie of the nobilitie of Rome, to whome Theodoricus king of the Gothes made an oratiō, & marking the splēdour of so many worthy lords, gathered together, & rancked each one according to their state & qualitie. O God (sayd he) how be­autifull & gorgeous is the heauēly Hie­rusalem aboue, since that earthly Rome heare below, is so glorious in her pōpe & maiestie? if in this transitorie world [Page 174] the louers of vanitie be permitted to shine in such prosperitie: what glorie, what felicitie is reserued and layde vp in the world to come for the true louers of virtue and veritie? S. Anselme Arch­bishop of Canterburie, whose birth hath highly honoured these mountai­nes of ours, was admirable in the pra­ctise of these good thoughts. A Leue­ret, started, and sore pressed by hounds, as this holy prelat went on a iourney, ran vnder his horse, as to the best place of refuge that the imminent danger of death suggested; and the hounds bar­king & baying round about, durst not presume to violate the sanctuarie, to which their prey had taken recourse: a sight truly very extraordinarie; wherat when all the traine laughed, great S. Anselme, answered weeping & sighing: Ah (sayd he) you laugh at the matter, but the poor beast laugheth not; the enemies of the soule (combatted & ill­handled on all sides by multitudes of tentations & sinnes) do expect & besie­ge her at the narrow passage of death: & she wholly affrighted, seeketh succour and refuge on euery side, which yf she [Page 175] find not, then do her ghostly enemies laugh and mock at her: which when the good bishop had sayd, he went on forward in his iourney. S. Francis on a time seeing a sheep all alone amidst a heard of goates: behold (sayd he to his companions) how meek is this litle poor sheep among those wanton kids: our blessed Lord went in such meek manner among the proud Phariseys. And at anothet time, seeing a litle lamb deuoured by a hogge: ah litle seely Lā ­bkin (sayd he weeping for compassion) how liuely dost thou expresse the death of my Saueour? That great and excel­lent personage of our dayes, Francis Borgia, while he was yet duke of Gan­dia, going a hunting, made to him self a thousand of these deuout conceipts. I was wont to admire (sayd he, recoun­ting it afterward) how the faulcons co­me to hand, suffring their eyes to be hood-winckd, and their talents to be bound to the pearch: & that men are so stubborne & rebellious to the voice & cal of almightie God. S. Basil the great sayth, that the rose among the thornes & briers, seemeth to make this exhorta­tion [Page 176] to men. Whatsoeuer is most pleasant in this world, ô mortal men, is entermingled with serow: nothing is pure and vnmixed: griefs be always companions of myrth, and widdowhead of mariage, and care of educa­tion is ioined with fertilty & ahoundance of children, shame folowes glory, expences waite vpon honours, disgust is the sauce of delicate dishes, and sicknes pue-felow of health. A fair flower is the rose (sayth this holy man) but yet it filleth me with sadnes, putting me in mind of my sinne, for which the earth hath been condemned to bring foorth thornes and bryers. Adeuout soule beholding the skie and the starres in a faire moon-shine night, represented in a cleer fountaine, O my God (sayd shee) these self same starres shall one day be vnder my feet, when thou shalt vouchsafe to lodge me in thy holy tabernacle, and as the starres of heauen are represented in this foun­taine vpō earth: Euen so all men of this earth are liuenly represented in heauen in the liuing well of the diuine charitie. A nother soule seeing a riuer swiftly flo­wing, cried out in this manner: my soule shall neuer take rest, vntill she be swal­lowed vp in the boundlesse sea of the [Page 177] deitie, from whence she had her begin­ning. S. Frācisca considering & viewing attentiuely a pleasant brooke, vpon the banck wherof she kneeled to pour foorth her prayers, was rapt into an ex­tasie, repeating oft times to her self the­se words: thus sweetly, & plesantly flo­weth the grace of my God vnto our harts, as this riuerett danceth downe his channell. Another looking vpon the fruittrees of an orchard, which were all bedecked with their timely blossoms, sighed & sayd, ay me wretch that I am, wherfore am I alone without blossom or budd in the orchard of holy churche? Another seeing litle chickens gathered together vnder their mothers wings, that sat louingly couring ouer them: O Lord (sayd he) preserue vs vn­der the wings of thy diuine proui­dence. Another looking vpon the heliotropium, that openeth and shut­teth his leaues with the rising and set­ting of the sunne: when shall the time be (sayd he) O my God, that my soule in this manner shall wholly folow the inuitement of thy good­nes, and attraction of thy holy spirit? [Page 178] Another seeing the flowers which we call pansies, faire to the eye, but with­out any sweet odour. Ah (sayd he) such are my thoughts, such are my deeds, fai­re in conceipt and shew, but in effect fruitlesse, and vnprofitable.

See my Philotheus, how easilie and redilie a man may draw good thoughts and holy inspirations, from all things great and small that are presented to our sences and vnderstanding in the va­rietie of this mortal life. Most vnhappy be they which do turne aside the crea­tures from their creatour, to chaunge & apply them to sinne: And happie are they that turne all the creatures to the glorie of their creatour, and do employ their fading vanitie, to the honour of the euerlasting veritie. My custom (sayth S. Gregory Nazianzen) hath been allways, to accommodate and ap­plie all things to my spirituall profit. Read the Epitaphe or funeral sermon, which S. Hierom hath made in honour of holy Paula, for it is worthy the rea­ding to see how it is all as it were pou­dered with sacred affects, aspirations, and deuout conceipts, which that bles­sed [Page 179] matron was wont to draw from all occasions and occurrences whatsoeuer.

Well then, in this exercise of spiri­tuall retyring, iaculatorie prayers, fer­uently darted from an enflamed desire, consisteth the great work of deuotion; this exercise may supplie the want of al other prayers: but the want of it, can not almost be repayred by any other exercise: without it, we cannot well lead a contemplatiue life, and but bad­ly performe the actiue life; without it, repose is but idlenes, and labour is but drudgerie: therfore I charge and coniu­re thee of all loue, to embrace this ex­ercise from thy hart, & neuer to omitt it, or leaue it of.

How we ought to heare the holy Masse. CHAP. 14.

1. HETHERTO I haue not spo­ken any thing of the bright Sunne of all spiritual exercises, I meane the most holy, dreadful, & so­ueraigne sacrifice and sacrament of the masse, the verie center of Christian reli­gion, [Page 180] the hart of deuotion, and soule of pietie, an vnspeakeable mysterie, which comprehendeth in it the bottomlesse depth of Gods charitie, and by which God vniting him self reallie vnto vs, doth most liberallie communicate his graces and fauours to our soules.

2. The prayer made in vnion of this diuine sacrifice, hath an vnspeakable force and efficacie: so that the soule (my Philotheus) by the ayde heerof, aboundeth with heauenly fauours, as leaning and reposing vpon her welbe­loued, who filleth her hart brim full of odours and spirituall sweetnes; that shee may be rightlie resembled to a pillar of smoak proceeding from aromaticall wood, from myrrhe, and incense, and all the pouders of sweetest perfumes; as it is sayd in the canticles.

3. Vse then all diligēce to assist euerie day at the holie masse, that thou maist iointlie with the priest offer vp thy Re­deemer vnto God his Father, for thy self, and for all the churche; The Angels of heauen (as S. Iohn Chrysostom sayth) be always present in great nōber, to ho­nour this sacred mysterie: & we being [Page 181] present with them, & assisting with the same intētion, cannot but receaue many excellēt influēces by such a societie, the two quiers of the triumphant and mili­tant church ioine thē selues to our Lord in this diuine actiō, with him, in him, & by him to rauishe the hart of God the father, & to make vs owners of his mer­cie. O what felicitie enioyeth that soule that with so glorious a companie con­tributeth her deuout affections, for so pretious and desired a good.

4. Yf vpon some vrgēt necessitie thou be forced to be absēt frō the celebrating of this soueraigne sacrifice; at the least, though thou canst not be really present, yet send thy hart and desire thether, to assist there with a spirituall presence. At some time then of the morning, when thou forseest any impedimēt of hearing masse, goe in spirit, (if otherwise thou canst not) into the church, & there vnite thy intentiō with the intētiō of all faith­full Christians: & vse the same interiour actions in the place where thou hast thus retired thy self, which thou wouldst vse yf thou wert really present in some church at the office of the holy masse.

1. Now to heare either reallie or mentallie the holie masse as we ought: first frō the beginning, vntill the priest go vp to the altar, prepare thy self with him: which preparation consisteth in placing thy self reuerentlie in the pre­sence of God, in acknowledging thine owne vnworthines, and crauing pardon for thy sinnes and offences.

2. From the time that the priest ascen­deth to the altar, vntill the ghospell: consider the aduent, or coming of our Saueour into this world, and his life amongst vs, by a simple and generall apprehension therof.

3. From the ghospell to the end of the Creede: consider the preaching of our Lord, and protest that thou doest purpose by his good grace, to liue and die in the faith, and obedience of his holie word, and in the vnitie of his Ca­tholique church.

4. From the creed vnto the Paterno­ster, applie thy consideration hartelie to the death and passion of our Redee­mer, which are actuallie and essentiallie represented in this holie sacrifice: which with the priest, and the rest of the faith­full [Page 183] people thou shalt offer vp vnto God the Father, for his eternall ho­nour, and thyne owne saluation.

5. From the Pater noster, vnto the Communion, endeuour to produce a thousand feruent desires from thy hart, wishing ardentlie to be for euer ioyned & vnited to thy Saueour, through euer­lasting loue.

6. From the Communion vntill the end, giue thancks vnto his diuine maie­stie for his incarnation, life, death and passion: and for the infinite loue which he abundantlie witnesseth vnto vs in this holie sacrifice: suppliantlie besee­ching him, for his owne selfs sake, to be mercifull vnto thee, to thy parents, and frinds, & to all the whole churche: and humbling thy self from the bot­tom of thy hart, receaue with deuo­tion the heauenlie blessing, which our Lord giueth vnto thee, by the means of the priest his lieutenant in this sa­crifice.

But yf thou purpose during the masse, to make thy meditation vpon the mysteries, which thou prosequutest from day to day: it will not then be [Page 184] needfull that thou diuert to make all these particular actions and considera­tions; but it will suffise, that at the be­gining thou rectifie thy intention, to adore and offer vp this heauenly sacri­fice, by the exercise of thy medi­tation; for in all meditations are found the aforesayd actions, either expresselie, or els virtuallie and equi­ualentlie.

Of other publique and common exer­cises. CHAP. 15.

1. BESIDES all these exercises, Phi­lotheus, on holy days and sun­dayes thou must be present at the ecclesiasticall office of the morning howers, and euensong: so farr foorth as thy state and opportunitie will per­mitte. For these dayes be dedicated vnto God peculiarlie, therfore in them thou must performe many more actes of his honour and worship, then vpon other dayes. So dooing thou shalt feel a thou­sand diuersities of pleasures in thy deuo­tions, as S. Austen did; who confes­seth [Page 185] of him self, that when he assisted at the churche-seruice in the begin­ning of his conuersion, his hart did melt in sweet content, and his eyes ouer-flowed with teares of deuotion. And (to say the veritie once for all) there is euer more comfort and merit to be gained at the publique seruice of the churche, then in our other particular actions. God hauing so ordained, that the communitie be preferred before all kind of particu­laritie.

2. Enter thy self willinglie into the deuout confraternities which are in­stituted in the place where thou dwel­lest: principallie in those whose exer­cises be of most fruict and edifica­tion: so thou shalt exercise a kind of obedience, verie acceptable vnto almightie God. For though these confraternities be not commanded, yet are they commended by hollie church: which to witnes how much she desireth that many should enroll them selues in such sodalities, gi­ueth large indulgences and priuiled­ges vnto all such as enter into them. [Page 186] And besides these indulgences of the church which are gained by them, it is a deed of excellent charitie in it self, to concurre with many in welldoing, and to cooperate with others in their good works and designements. And although it may so happen, that one doth as good exercises alone, as in the confraternitie with others; and perchaunce feeleth more spirituall delight and comfort by performing them alone in particu­lar: yet is God much more glorified by the vnion and contribution which we make with our bretheren and neigh­bours, in good works and deuout exer­cises.

3. The like doe I say of all other kind of publique prayers, and acts of religion: which (as much as is pos­sible) we should honour, and grace with our example, for the edification of our neighbour, and our owne soule, and for the glorie of God, and for the cōmon intention, both of the churche and all the faithfull.

Of honour and inuocation of the Saincts. CHAPTER 16.

1. SINCE God doth oftentimes send downe to vs his holie inspirations by ministerie of his Angels: we should likewise be diligent, to send vp vnto him our deuout aspirations by the self same heauenlie messengers. The holie soules of the dead, which are in Paradise, in companie of the blessed Angels, and are (as our Saueoursayth) equall and felowes of the Angels, do likewise doe vs the same good office of inspiring vs, and aspiring for vs by their sacred intercessions.

2. My Philotheus, let vs ioine our harts vnto these heauenlie spirits and happie soules: for as the litle young nightingales, learne to sing by chirping in companie of the old ones, so by the holie association which wee frequent with the Saincts and Angels of heauen, we shall learne farre better to pray and sing Gods diuine prayses: I will sing to thee ô Lord (sayth Dauid) in the sight [Page 188] and companie of thy Angels.

3. Honour, reuerence and respect the sacred and glorious virgin Mary, with an especiall loue: she is the mother of our soueraigne Father, & consequently our Grand mother. Let vs runne then vnto her, and like her litle nephewes, cast our selues about her, & in her lappe with perfect confidence, in all affayres, and occurrences. Let vs call vpon this sweet mother of ours, let vs inuoke her motherlie affection towards vs: and endeuouring to imitate her excellent virtues, let vs beare a true filiall hart and affection toward her.

4. Make thy self very familiar with the holy Angels, behold them often times in spirit and in thought, as yf they were visiblie present with thee: aboue all, loue and reuerence the An­gel of the Dioces where thou dwel­lest, and the Angels of those persons with whom thou liuest, but especial­lie thy owne Angel gardian: beseech them often, praise them ordinarilie, request their assistance and succour in all thy affaires, spirituall, or tempo­rall, that they may cooperate with [Page 189] thy intentions.

5. That great personage, Peter Faber, the first priest, first preacher, first diuinitie reader of the holie com­panie of the name of IESVS, and first companion of B. Ignatius, the founder of that institute; coming on a day out of Germanie, where he had done great good seruice to the glorie of our Lord, and going through this dioces (the place of his natiuitie) related, that hauing pas­sed many hereticall places, he had receaued thousands of consolations by saluting at the entrie of euerie pa­rish, the Angels protectours of the same; and that he sensiblie perceaued them to haue been fauourable vnto him; both by preseruing him from the ambushments of the hereticks, as all so in mollifiyng many soules, and making them supple and do­cil, to receaue from him the do­ctrine of saluation. This did he tell with so liuelie an affection, that a gentle-woman, then verie young, hearing it from his owne mouth, told me it but fower yeares [Page 190] passed, (to wit aboue threescore years after he had told it him self) with an extraordinarie feeling of deuotion. I my self had the comfort this last yeare, to consecrate an altar in the place, on which God appointed this blessed man to be borne, at a litle village called Villaret, among these craggie moun­taines of our countrie.

6. Choose some particular Saincts among the rest whose liues thou mayst more peculiarlie read, tast, and imi­tate: and in whose intercessions thou mayest place an especiall trust and con­fidence: the Sainct, whose name thou bearest, is alredie assigned to be thy deuote intercessor euen from thy Chri­stening.

How we ought to heare and read Gods holy word. CHAP. 17.

1. BEARE always an especiall de­uotion to the word of God: whether thou heare it in familiar discourse, among thy spirituall frinds, or at a publique sermon in the churche: [Page 191] heare it alway with attention, and re­uerence, and make thy profit and com­moditie of it, to thy vttermost power: suffer it not to fall vpon the grounde, but receaue it thanckfullie into thy hart as a soueraigne baulme; imitating in this the blessed Virgin our Ladie, who kept carefullie in the treasure house of her hart, all the words which she heard spoken in praise of her Sonne. Remem­ber, that our Lord esteemeth of the words which we speak to him in our prayers, accordinge as we esteeme of those which he speaketh vnto vs in holie sermons.

2. Haue still lying by thee, some good booke of deuotion, as some work of S. Bonauenture, of Gerson, of Denis the Charterhouse monk, of Lewes Blosius monk of S. Benet, of Grenada, Stella, Arias, Pinelli, Auila, the spirituall Con [...]t, S. Augustins confessions, S. Hieroms epistles, and such like. Read euerie day a litle, in some one of them, with great deuotion, as yf it were a letter missiue, which some Saint in heauen had sent vnto thee, to shew thee the way thether, and to en­courage thee in thy iourney.

3. Reed also the liues of the Saincts, in which as in a mirrour, thou mayst see the pourtraicture of Christian perfe­ction: and accommodate all their actions, to thy owne profit, accor­ding to thy vocation. For allthough very many actions of the Saints be not absolutely imitable by such as liue in the world; yet all of them may be in some degree folowed, either neere or farr of: so the solitarienesse of S. Paul the first heremite, is imitated in some sort, by the spirituall retreats of which we haue spoken: and the extreme po­uertie of S. Francis, may be imitated by these practises or exercises of spirituall pouertie which wee will heerafter set downe.

4. True it is, that there be some Saints liues, which more directly serue to guide and order our liues, then other doe: as the life of the blessed Mother Teresa, which is most admirable for that purpose: as also the liues of the first Iesuits, of the holy cardinall Borrom­eus, S. Lewes, S. Bernard, the chroni­cles of S. Francis, of S. Dominck, of S. Benet, and such like. Other Saints [Page 193] liues there are which containe more matter of admiration, then of imita­tion: as the life of S. Mary of Egypt, of S. Simeon Shilites, of the two Saint Catherines of Siena, and of Genua, of S. Angela, and such like: which neuer­thelesse, do minister vnto vs great oc­casions, to tast the sweetnes of the loue of God.

How to receaue inspirations. CHAPTER 18.

1. VVE call inspiratiōs, all those inward alluremēts, motiōs, reproches, remorses, lights, and knowledges, which God worketh in vs, preuenting our hart with his bles­sings, through his fatherly care and loue of vs, to the end he might awake vs, stirre vs vp, driue and drawe vs to virtue, to heauenly loue, to good resolutions, and in a word, to all those things which lead and direct vs to our euerlasting good. These inspirations in the scriptu­re, the bridegroome calleth, knocking at the gate, and speaking to the hart [Page 194] of his espouse; to wake her when she sleepeth; to crie and call after her, when she absenteth her self: to inuite her to his honnie, and to gather apples in his orcharde, and flowers in his garden; to sing, and cause to sound her sweete voice to delight his eares.

2. I need a comparison to declare my meaning. Three things are re­quired to the matching, or striking vp of a marriage, on the maidens behalfe that must be married. First, the partie is propounded vnto her: secondly, she likes of the proposition: thirdly, she giueth her consent. So­likewise God, intending to work in vs, by vs, and with vs, some acte of charitie, first of all he proposeth it vnto vs by inspiration; secondly, we accept it with delight; and thirdly, we giue our full consent vnto it. For as to descend vnto sinne, there are three steppes or degrees, tentation, delight, and consent: so there are three other staires to ascend vnto grace and virtue inspiration, which is oppo­sit to tentation; the delight felt in the [Page 195] inspiration, contrarie to the delight taken in dallying with the tentation; and consent to the inspiration, contra­rie to the consent giuen to the ten­tation.

3. For, though the inspiration should endure all our life long, yet should we not be acceptable vnto God, if we took no delight nor contentment in it, nay contrarywise, his diuine maiestie would be highly offended with vs, as he was with the Israelits, with whom he had beene labouring, forty yeares (as he sayth him self) and soliciting their con­uersion, in all which time they would not giue eare vnto him: wherupon he sware against them in his wrath, that they should neuer enter into his rest. So likewise, the gentleman that had long time serued his mistris, should be much disobliged, if after al this she would in no case hearken to the mar­riage which he desired.

4. The pleasure which one taketh in inspirations, is a great aduancement to the glorie of God, and by it one beginneth alreadie to please his diuine maiestie. For although

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Consent to the motion which he in­spireth and propoundeth, but with a perfect, constant, and resolut consent, that admitteth no wauering or doub­ting: For so God almightie, whome thou canst not oblige with all thy for­ces, will not with standing louingly hold him self obliged vnto thee for thy affection.

7. Before thou giue plenarie consent to those inspirations, which propound vnto thee importāt matters, or extraor­dinarie motiōs, least thou be deceaued, aske councell of thy guide & spirituall maister, that he may warilie examin, whether the inspiration be true or false: for oftentimes the enemie perceuing a soule prompt and willing to consent to good inspirations, proposeth traiterou­sly of his part, as if thy came from God, false inspirations, to deceaue her: but he can neuer compasse his drifte, so long as she with humilitie obeyeth her conductour.

8. Thy cōsent being giuen, thou must procure with all good endeuour the ef­fect, for which thou gauest consent, & go about diligētly to put the inspiratiō [Page 199] in execution: which is the hight & per­fection of true virtue: for to haue con­sented in hart, and not to attaine to the effect & fruict therof, would be euen as if one should plant a vine, and not defire that it should fructifie. To all this the morning exercise and spirituall retreat which I haue described, doe serue ex­ceedingly: for by those meanes as by ordinarie forecasts, and preuentions, we prepare our selues not onely in gene­rall, but in particular also, to execute all the good we can.

Of holy Confession. CHAPTER 19.

1. OVR Saueour hath left in his church the holy sacrament of Confession, or Penaunce, that in it we may washe our selues from all our sinnes, when soeuer we be defiled with them. Suffer not thy hart (my Phi­lotheus) any long time to continue soi­led with the ordure of sinne, since thou hast so easie a remedie to cleanse thee with all.

2. The Lionesse hauing layen with the leopard, goeth presently to some brook to washe away the stinche which that disloyall fact of hers leaues in her bodie, least her Lion finding it by the smell, should be offended therwith. The soule which hath consented to sinne, should feele a horrour and abo­mination of her selfe, and procure to washe away that filth, for reuerence and respect of the eyes of Gods diuine maiestie, which behold her. And what should make vs to die this ghostly death, hauing so soueraigne a remedie to reuiue vs?

3. Confesse thy selfe humbly, and deuoutly once euery seuenight, and euer before thou communicatest, if it be possible: allthough thou feele not thy conscience charged with guilt of any mortall sinne. For by confession, thou doest not onely receaue abso­lution of thy veniall sinnes, which thou mayst then confesse: but also iointly great force and vigour to avoide them heerafter, and a cleere light and knowledge to iudge and discerne them, and abundance of [Page 201] heuenly grace, to repaire all the da­mage which thou hast incurred by them. By confession thou practizest the noble virtues of humilitie, obe­dience, simplicitie, and charitie: in a word, in this only act of confession, thou exercisest more virtues, then in any other whatsoeuer.

4. Procure alway to bring with thee to confession a true sorow and abhomi­nation of the sinnes which thou wilt confesse, be they neuer so litle: and a firme setled resolution to amend them heerafter. Many of custom confesse their veniall sinnes in a kind of braue­rie, not purposing at all to amend them, continewing therfore all their life charged with the burden of them, and loose by that meanes infinit bene­fits and graces of the spirit. Yf then thou confesse to haue lyed in matter of small importance, without harming any man, to haue spoken some inordi­nate or idle word, or to haue played ouermuch: repent thy self hartely for these sinnes, and purpose in very deed to amend. For it is a great abuse of the sacrament, to cōfesse any kind of sinne, [Page 202] be it mortall, or be it venial, without any will or desire to be purged and cleansed from it; since Confession, was instituted for no other end, but to puri­fie vs from sinne.

5. Make not those superfluous accu­sations which many doe of custome: I haue not loued God so well as I ought: I haue not prayed with so great deuotiō as I should. I haue not made much of my neighbour as I ought to haue done: I haue not receaued the sacrament with so great reuerence as I ought, and such like. For saying such like accusations, thou bringest nothing in particular, that may make thy confessour vnderstand the estate of thy conscience: for all the men vpon earth, and all the Saincts of paradise, may say the selfe same with all truth, if they should come to Confession. Consider therfore what particular subiect or cause thou hast to accuse thy self in that generall manner, and when thou hast discouered it, then accuse thy self of that default sim­plie and plainly. For example, when thou accusest thy self not to haue [Page 203] cherished thy neighbour as thou oughtest to haue done, peraduentu­re, because hauing seene some poore body in great necessitie, whome thou mightest easily haue succoured and comforted, thou didst neglect that good occasion of doing that worke of mercie. Well then in this case, accuse thy self thus in particu­lar. Hauing seene a poore man in necessitie, I did not assist him as I could well haue done, through my meere negligence, or hardnes of hart, or contempt, or ill will borne to the partie; or according as thou knowest the occasion of that default. So likewi­se accuse not thy selfe that thou hast not prayed vnto God with such deuo­tion, as thou oughtest; but if thou hast admitted any voluntary distractions, or neglected to take conuenient place, due time, and leasure requisite for attention in prayer, accuse thy self with all plain­nesse and simplicitie of that particu­lar cause of thy default, not alled­ging those generall tearmes, which make the confession neither hot nor cold.

6. Thinck it not enough to confesse thy veniall sinnes, but accuse thy self also of the motiue which induced thee to committe them. For example, be not content to say that thou hast lyed without endamaging any person: but declare whether it was for vainglorie to praise, or to excuse thy self: or for vaine myrthe, or for willfull stubbor­nesse. Yf thou haue sinned in gaming, expresse whether it were for greedines of lucre, or for conuersation and com­panie sake: and so foorth of other sinnes. Manifest likewise how long thou hast perseuered in the sinne which thou confessest; for continuance of time, is a circumstance noteablie en­creasing and aggrauating the guilt of the sinne. Because there is great diffe­rence betwixt a light vanitie or foo­lerie, that presentlie is giuen ouer, and layd a side, or which slippeth into our spirit for some quarter of an hou­re: and one wherin our hart hath beene steeped and souced for two or three dayes. We must then confesse the particular fact, the motiue, and the continuance of our sinnes. For [Page 205] though ordinarilie we are not bound to be so punctuall in explicating our veniall sinnes, nay we are not absolu­telie bound to confesse them at all: yet they that desire to cleanse and pu­rifie their soules in good sort, the better to attaine to the perfection of true deuotion, must be carefull to manifest and lay open to their spiri­tuall Physician, the disease wherof they wishe to be healed, be it neuer so litle.

7. Spare not to tell plainlie what soeuer is requisite to declare purelie the qualitie of thy offence, as the cause, subiect, or occasion which thou hast taken to be angrie, or to support and maintaine one in his faul­te. For example: A certaine perso­nage to whome I beare no liking at all, by chaunce speaketh to me some merrie word in iest, and I construe it in the worsle part, rising into cholar for it: wheras yf an other man that had been more agreable and accepta­ble to me, had spoken a shrodder worde, I should haue taken it in good part. In such a case, I will [Page 206] not omitt to say: I haue vsed cholerick and angrie speeches against a certaine parson, taking in ill part at his hands some words which he spake to me, not so much for the qualitie of the wordes in them selues, as for the litle good will or liking I had of the par­tie that spake them. And yf it were moreouer needfull to expresse the ve­rie angrie termes, vsed against that partie, to declare thy self the better, I will thinck it were good to ex­presse them: for accusing thy self so plainly and cleerly, thou doest not onely discouer the fault committed, but with all the naughtie inclinations, customs, and habits and other roots of sinne: so that by this meanes thy ghostly father cometh to haue a per­fecter knowledge of the conscience which he dealeth with, and of the remedies most conuenient to be ap­plied vnto it. Yet must thou allways procure to conceale the third per­sons, who haue been partakers with thee in the offence, as much as is possible.

8. Take diligent heede of manie [Page 207] couuert sinnes which raigne so se­cretly and insensiblie in our conscien­ces, that we scarcely perceaue or dis­couer them: And that thou maist find them out, and know them when thou meetest with them, read atten­tiuelie the 6. 27. 28. 29. 33. & 36. chap­ters of the third part, and the 8. th. chapter of the 4. th. part.

9. Chaunge not lightly nor easilie thy Confessour, but hauing made choice of a sufficient one, continew constantlie, rendring him account of thy conscience on the dayes and times appointed, opening to him freely and plainly, the sinnes thou hast committed from time to time: and monthly, or from two months, to two months, tell him likewise the estate of thy inclinations, though thou haue not sinned by them: as whether thou be tormented with sad­nes, or with peeuishnes: whether thou be giuen to ouer much myrthe, or desirous of gaine, or such like inclinations.

Of frequenting the holie Communion. CHAPTER 20.

1. IT is said, that Mithridates king of Pontus, hauing inuented the Mithridate, so strengthened his bodie by the meanes of the same, that endeuouring afterward to poison him selfe, so to auoide the seruitude of the Romans, he could not possiblie do it. Our blessed Sauiour hath instituted the venerable Sacrament of the Eucharist, which containeth really and verilie his flesh and his bloud, to the end that he that eateth it, should liue eternallie. Who so euer then shall vse it often with sincere deuotion, so confirmeth his health, and secureth the life of his soule: that it is all most impossible he should be empoisoned with any kind of naugh­tie affection. One cannot be nourished with this flesh of life, and yet liue in affections of death. Man dwelling in the terrestriall paradise, could neuer haue died corporally, through virtue of [Page 209] the tree of life, which God had planted there: so cannot good Christians in the church of God die spirituallie, through the efficacie of this Sacrament of life. Yf the tendrest fruits that be, and most subiect to corruption, as cherries, straw­berries, and apricocks, be preserued easilie all the yeare long, being con­fited in sugar or honnie: it is no won­der that our harts, though neuer so fraile and feeble, be preserued from the rott of sinne, when they be candied and sugred with the incorruptiblie fleshe and bloud of the Sonne of God. O Philotheus, those Christians that must be damned for their naughtines, will be without replie, when the iust iudge shall make them see the wrong that they did them selues, to incurre spiri­tuall death: seeing it was so facil a thing for them to maintaine them selues in life and health, by the sacramentall manducation or eating of his bodie, which he had left vnto them, for that end. Miserable wretches (will he say) why would you needs dye, hauing, the fruit and foode of life at your commandement.

2. To receaue the communion of the eucha­rist euery day, neither do I commend, nor dis­commend: but to communicate euery sunday; I would wishe it, and would exhort euery one so to do, yf his soule be without any affection to sinne. These be the very words of S. Augustin, with whome I likewise, nei­ther blame, nor praise absolutely those that communicate euery day: but I leaue that poinct to the discretion of the ghostly father of him, that would be resolued ther vpon. For the disposi­tion requisite for such frequent vse of the holy communion requiring such exactnes; it is not good to councell it generally or commonly to all. And because euen this exquisite and exact disposition, may be found in many good soules, it were not well done to diuert or dissuade generally all mē from it; but this must be handled and orde­red by consideration and knowledge of the inward estate of euery one in particular. It were no wisdome to coun­cell euery one without any distin­ction, to frequent the communion euery day: and it were impudencie on the other side, to blame any one for [Page 211] it, especially yf he folow therin the ad­uice of any worthy and discreet dire­ctor. S. Catherin of Sienes answer was commendable and gracious in this ca­se: when it was obiected against her often communicating, that Saint Au­stin did neither approue nor disallowe communicating euery day: well (quoth shee) since Saint Austin disalloweth it not, do not you dispraise it, and I am content.

4. But Saint Augustin, as thou hast heard (my Philotheus) exhorteth and councelleth verie earnestlie to com­municate, euery sunday: folowe his councell then, and doe so as neare as it is possible: for I presuppose thou hast no kind of affection at all to mortall sinne, nor any delight or af­fection to veniall sinnes, and therfore thou art in the true disposition which S. Austin thincketh sufficient; yea, and in a more excellent, because thou hast not so much as an affection to sinne venially: so that yf it please thy ghostly father, thou mayst pro­fitably communicate more often then euery sunday.

4. Yet many lawfull impediments may befall thee not of thine owne part, but of theirs with whome thou liuest, which may giue occasion to a sage and discreet conductour, to forbid thee to communicate so often. As for ex­ample, yf thou liue in any kind of subiection, and those to whome thou owest this subiection, reuerence, or obedience, be so ill instructed in af­faires of the soule, or so wayward, that they be troubled, or disquieted to see thee communicate so often: peraduenture, all things well conside­red, it would be good to condiscend to these mens infirmitie, and so to communicate but once euerie fifteen dayes; when thou canst by no meanes ouercome this difficultie of these mens opinion. In a word it is hard to giue a generall rule in this case: the surest is to remitt it allways to our ghostlie fathers aduise; though I thinck I may boldlie say, that the greatest distance between the times of com­municating, among such as desire to serue God deuoutlie, is from month to month.

5. A discreet and prudent person thould not be hindred, neither by fa­ther, nor mother, husband, nor wife, from often communicating: for since the daye of communion, takes not from thee that care and fore-cast of affaires which are conuenient to thy calling; nor makes thee lesse mild, sweet, and amiable toward them, nor forceth thee to denie them any kind of dutifull office or respect; there is no likelyhood, that they should seek to withdraw thee from this ex­ercise, with any profit or pleasure of their owne; vnlesse they be of a spirit exceeding froward and intra­ctable: for then perhaps thy gho­stlie father would councell thee, to condiscend somewhat to their frail­tie.

6. A word or two for married folke. In the ancient law, God would not haue the creditours exact that which was owing vnto them, vpon feasts and holydayes, but he forbad not debtours to pay and restore that which they ought, to such as demaunded it. It is an vndecencie, though no great [Page 214] sinne, to sollicit the payment of the ma­riage due, the day that one hath com­municated, but it is no indecency at all, nay it is meritorious, to render it being demaunded. Therfore for rendring this nuptiall debt, none should be debarred from the cōmunion, yf on the other side their deuotiō vigeth thē to desire it. Cer­tainly in the primitiue church, all Chri­stiās did cōmunicate euery day, were thy vnmarried, or married, and blessed with manie childrē. For this cause I sayd right now, that often cōmunicating, bringeth not any incōuenience at all, to father or mother, husband or wife: so that the par­tie communicating be indued with dis­cretion and wisdome, to know what be­longs to his estate and dutie.

7. As for bodelie diseases, none are lawfull impedimēts from participation of this holy Sacrament, saue only those which prouoke much vomiting.

8. To cōmunicate euery eight dayes, it is requisit, neither to be guiltie of mor­tall sinne, nor of anie affection to veniall sinne, and to haue a feruēt desire of com­ming to this heauenly banquet; But to communicate euery day, it behoueth [Page 215] moreouer to haue surmoūted and mor­tified the greatest part of our naughtie inclinations, and to come so often not of our owne head, but by leaue and ad­uise of our spirituall father.

How we ought to Communicate. CHAPTER 21.

1. BEGINNE to prepare thy self to the Communiō, the euening be­fore, by manie aspirations and throwes of loue: retire thy self frō exte­riour labours somwhat earlier, that thou maist rise sooner in the morning. Yf thou chāce to awake in the night time, by & by fill thy hart, & thy mouth with some deuout wordes, which like sweet odours, may perfume thy soule, as it we­re, to receaue thy spouse: who watching whilst thou sleepest, prepareth him self, to bring thee a thousand gracious fauours, yf on thy part thou dispose thy self to receaue them.

2. In the morning get vp with great ioye, for the happinesse which thou ho­pest to participate: and being cōfest, go with great confidence, accōpanied with [Page 214] great humilitie, to receaue this heauen­ly food, which nourisheth thee to im­mortall life. After thou hast recited the sacred words, O Lord I am not worthy, moue not thy head or lippes any more, neither to pray, nor yet to sighe, but opening thy mouth handsomly, and lifting vp thy head as much as is need­full, that the priest may see what he doth, full of hope, faith, and charitie, receaue him, in whome, by whome, and for whome, thou beleeuest, hopest, and louest.

3. O Philotheee, thinck with thy self, that as the Bee gathering from flowers the dew of heauen, and choi­cest iuice vpon the earth, conuerteth it into honny, and carieth it into her hiue: iust so the priest, taking the Sa­ueour of the world from the altar, true Sonne of God, as dewe come from heauen, and true Sonne of the Virgin, like a flower sprong from the earth of our humanitie, conuerteth him into delightfull meate, in thy mouth, and in thy bodie. Hauing thus receaued him, summon all thy thoughts and de­sires, to come and doe homage to this [Page 117] king of saluation: treat with him of thy inward affaires and necessities: conferre with him, as a noble guest now lodged within thee for thy soules good. To cōclude, doe him all reuerence possible, and carie thy self with such behaueour, that men way iudge by thy actions, that God is within thee.

4. When thou canst not haue the benefit and commoditie, of communi­cating reallie and indeed at the holy sa­crifice of the masse, cōmunicate at least in hart and spirit: vniting thy self with an ardent desire, to this life-bringing flesh of our B. Sauiour.

5. Thy principall intent in commu­nicating must be, to aduance, comfort, and strengthen thy self in the loue of God. Thou must receaue only for loues sake, that which only loue hath caused to be giuen. Thou canst not cōsider out Sauiour in any action more amiable, more tender harted towards thee, then in this sacrament: in which he annihi­lateth him self, in a manner, and turneth him self into meat, that so he might pe­netrate our soules, & vnite him self most straightly and intrinscicallie, with the [Page 218] harts & bodies of his faithfull seruants.

6. Yf worldlings demaund of thee, why thou communicatest so often? tell thē thou doest it, to learne to loue God, to be purified from thy imperfections, to be deliuered from thy miseries, to be comforted in thy afflictions, and to find rest, repose, and ease in thy weaknes. Tell them, that two sortes of persons, should cōmunicate very often: the per­fect, because being well disposed, they should do thē selues wrong, in not ap­proaching to the wellspring and source it self of perfection: the imperfect, that they might with better reason and title aspire to perfection; the strong least they become feeble, and the feeble to become strong; the sick to be healed, and the healthie, least they fall into sicknes. Tell them, that for thy owne part, as one very vnperfect, feeble, and sick, thou hast great need to communi­cate often with him, who is thy only perfection, strength, and health. Tell them, such as haue not many worldlie affaires, should communicate often, be­cause they haue good leasure: and such as haue many temporall occupations, [Page 219] should likewise so do, because they haue need: and that he that laboureth much and taketh great paines, must vse often to eate, and strengthen him selfe with hartie meat. Tell them, that thou re­ceauest the blessed Sacrament, to learne to receaue it well: for no man can do an action well, which he hath not often practized.

7. Communicate often Philotheus, and as often as thou canst, with counsell and aduice of thy ghostly father; for be­leeue me, the Leuerettes in these moun­taines of ours, become all white, because they neither see nor eate any thing but driuen snowe: so by adoring and eating beautie, goodnes, and puritie it self in this diuine sacrament, thou wilt be­come alltogether, virtuous, pure, and beautifull.

THE THIRD PART OF THE INTRODVCTION, Containing sundrie rules and aduices, concerning the exer­cise of virtues.

Of the choice which we must make in the exercise of virtue. CHAPTER I.

1. THE king of the Bees neuer goeth a progresse into the fields, but enuironned with all his litle people: and cha­ritie neuer entreth into the hart of man, but she lodgeth with her, all the whole traine of other virtues, exerci­sing and setting them a worke, as a [Page 221] Captaine doth his soldiours. But she setteth them a worke, neither all at once, nor all alike, nor in all seasons, nor in euery place: for the iust man is like a tree planted vpon the water side, which bringeth foorth fruit in due season: and charitie as it were watring the soule, bringeth foorth in her the actions and workes of virtue, euery one in their proper time. Musick, being so pleasaunt a thing in it self, is trouble­som in time of mourning, saith the prouerb. It is a great fault in manie, who vnderta­king the exercise of some particular virtue, enforce them selues to practise the acts therof, at euery encounter and in all occurences, imitating the ancient philosophers Democritus and Heracly­tus, alway laughing, or alway weeping; and (which is yet worse) blaming and censuring such, as do not always exer­cise the self same virtues. One must reioice with the ioyfull, and weep with the sorowfull, sayth the Apostle: and charitie is patient, bountifull, liberall, discreet, and condescending or accom­modating it selfe, to all occasions, and exigences of our brethren.

2. There are notwithstanding some virtues, whose vse is almost vniuersall, and must not worke their actions only seuerally and a part, but must spread and extend them amid the qualities and operations of all other virtues. Occa­sions are seldome presented to exercise the virtues of fortitude, magnanimitie and magnificence: but meeknes, mil­dnes, temperance, modestie, and hu­militie, are virtues, with which all the actions of our life, should be died and coloured. Many virtues may be more excellent then this one, but the vse of this one may be more necessarie. Sugar is of more excellence then salt, but salt is more often and generallie vsed. We must allways therfore haue good store, and readie prouision of these generall and common virtues, since the vse of them is so ordinarie.

3. Among the virtues which we would exercise, we must preferre that, which is most conformable to our calling, not that which is most agreea­ble to our owne tast and will. Sainct Paula delighted in the exercise of aspe­rities, and corporall mortifications, [Page 223] that so she might more easilie enioy the sweet tranquillitie of the spirit: but she had more obligation to obey her superiours, then to seeke her owne contentment; and therefore S. Hierom amid her commendations sayth, that in this she was to be reprehended, that she vsed immoderate abstinēces, against her Bishops aduice. The Apostles on the other side, appointed by God to preach the ghospel, and distribute the bread of heauen to hungrie soules, iud­ged exceeding well, that they should do wrong to this great function of theirs, yf they should employ their time, in ser­uing & looking to the poore, although to do so, were the act of an excellent virtue. Euery calling and vocation stan­deth in neede of the practise of some peculiar virtue. Difference is there, between the vertue of a Prelat, and of a prince, or a soldiour: the virtue of a married man, is different from the virtues of a widow: and although euery man should be endowed with all virtues, euery one notwithstan­ding, is not bound to practise them alike, but each one must giue him selfe [Page 224] in more particular manner, to those virtues that belong to that kind of life where vnto he is called.

4. Of the virtues which appertaine not peculiarly to our particular estate, and dutie, we must preferre those which are most excellent in deed, not those which excell only in apparēce. Blazing starres ordinarilie, seeme greater and goodlier thē the verie starres of heauen, and occupie much more place, at least wise in our eyes; wheras in deed they are neither in greatnes, not in qualitie, and influence, comparable to the starres of the skie; neither seeme they great for any other reason, but because they are neerer vnto vs, and in a more grosse sub­iect in respect of the starres. There are likewise certaine virtues, which because they are neerer to our senses, and (yf I may say so) somwhat material, are highly esteemed by the vulgar people: for so cōmonly they preferre corporall almes, before the spirituall workes of mercy: haircloth fasting, nakednes, disciplins, and other such bodilie mortifications, before meekenes, courtesie, modestie, and other mortifications of the mind, [Page 225] which notwithstanding in true iudge­ments censure, are much more excel­lent. Choose then, Philotheus, those virtues which are best, not those which are only esteemed so by the vnskilfull vulgar; those which are more excellent, not those which are more apparent; the substantial'st, not the brauest.

5. It is exceeding profitable, that euery man should make choice of some particular virtue, not neglecting or abandoning the rest, but procuring to be most conuersant, in the exercise of some one peculiar virtue, to which he thincks him self most apte, all things well considered.

6. A beautifull damosell shining like the sunne, royally adorned, and crow­ned wth a garland of oliues, appee­red in a vision to S. Iohn Bishop of Alexandria, and sayd vnto him: I am the kings eldest daughter, yf thou canst gaine my good will, I will con­duct thee to his presence. He per­ceaued that this was Mercy, towards the poore, which God commanded vnto him by this vision: and therfore euer after, he gaue him selfe in such [Page 226] sort to the exercise of the workes of mercie, that he is now commonlie called amongst all S. Iohn the Almner.

7. Eulogius of Alexandria, desiring to do some peculiar seruice, to the honour of God, and being not able to embrace a solitary eremiticall life, or to resigne him self vp to the obedience of of an other, took vnto him in his house a miserable person, all infected with leaprosy, to exercise his charitie and mortification vpon him; and to per­forme this with more perfection, he made a vow to entertaine him, honour, and serue him, as any seruant doth his Lord and maister. Now vpon some tentation happening, as well to the lazar, as to Eulogius, to depart one from the other, they went vnto greate Saint Anthony for his councell. Who sayd vnto them. Beware my children, that you separate not your selues one from the other, for both of you, ap­proaching nigh to your end, yf the Angels find you not together, you are in great daūger of leesing your crownes.

8. The holy king Lewes, visited the hospitals, and serued the sick, with his [Page 227] owne hāds, as yf he had been a hireling, that for wages & gaine had been indu­ced to that seruice. S. Francis aboue all things loued pouertie, which he was wont to terme, his ladie and mistresse: S. Dominick most affectioned to prea­ching to the ignorant, wherof his order takes the name. S. Gregory the great, took pleasure in entertaining pilgrims and strangers, folowing the example of Abraham, and had the same grace gran­ted him, that Abraham had, to receaue the king of glorie in forme of a pilgrim. Tobias exercised his charitie in bu­riyng the dead: S. Elisabeth, as great a princesse as she was, delighted so much in nothing, as in the abiecting and aba­sing of her selfe. S. Catherin of Genua in her widowhood, dedicated her selfe to serue an hospitall. Cassianus recounteth, that a deuoute gentlewomā desirous to exercise the virtue of patience, came to S. Athanasius, who at her request, placed a poore widow with her, so wayward, cholerick, troublesome, & intolerable, that she gaue the deuout dame, matter and occasion enough, to practize the virtue of meeknes and sufferaunce.

9. Finally among the seruāts of God, some applie them selues principallie to attend and visit the sick; others with almes and fauour, succour the needie and poore; others procure to instruct litle children, in the necessary know­ledge of Christian doctrine; others endeuour to recall home to God and his church, soules that are lost and gone astray; others solace them selues in adorning churches, and decking the holy altars; others to make peace and agreement, amongst such as are fallen at strife and variaunce. Wherein they imitate skilfull imbroderers, who vpon diuers grounds, with admirable varie­tie, entermingle silk, siluer, and gold twists, wherof they drawe sondrie sorts of flowers: and so these godly soules, vndertaking some particular exercise of deuotion, do make it serue them, as a groundwork of their spirituall im­broyderie, vpon which they work the varietie of all other virtues: holding by that meanes all their actions and affe­ctions, better vnited and ordered, by the carefull application of them to their principall exercise, and in this, [Page 229] endeuour to shew their excellent art, and singular cuning.

Her garments bordered all with flowers of gold.
And curious needle work fair to behold.

Saith the psalmist, describing the costly apparell of the spouse of God, which is the soule exercised in varietie of virtues.

6. When we are afflicted and com­batted by any kind of vice, it behoueth vs, as much as it lieth in vs, to giue our selues wholly to the practize of the cō ­trarie virtue, and to order and applie all other virtues, to the perfecting of that particular virtue. For so we shall ouer­come the enemie against which we fight, & aduance our selues likewise in other virtues. If I feel my self impugned with pride, or choler, in all my actiōs I will bend my self to the contrarie side, that is to humilitie, and meeknes: and to obtaine that virtue I will applie all my other exercises of prayer, receauing the sacraments, of prudence, of con­stancie, sobrietie and the rest. For as the wild Boares to sharpē their tuskes, do scoure and whet them with their other teeth, so that all of them do [Page 230] reciprocallie become sharpe, and piercing: so a virtuous man, propoun­ding to perfect him self in one virtue, of which he findeth most neede, doth as it were whet it and sharpen it, by the exercise of other virtues, which con­firming and strengthening that one, which he particularly seeketh, become all of them more polished and excellēt. So it happned vnto holy Iob, who exercising him selfe peculiarly in pa­tience, against so many vehement ten­tations wherwith he was assalted: be­came perfect in all kinde of virtues and holinesse. Yea oft times it happe­neth (as S. Gregory Nazianzen sayth) that by one onely act of some virtue, well and perfectly performed, a man may attaine to the hight of virtue: and he alleadgeth in proofe of this saying, the example of Rahab, who hauing exactly practized the virtue of hospitalitie, attained vnto a glorious soueraignty in holines. Which is to be vnderstood, when such acts are practi­zed, with excellent feruour of chari­tie.

An addition to the former discource, about choice in the exercise of vir­tues. CHAPT. 2.

1. SAINT Augustin sayth excel­lently well, that young begin­ners in deuotion, doe committ certaine faults, which according to the rigour of perfect lawes, are in very deed blame worthy, and yet in these begin­ners are very commendable, as tokens and presages of a future excellencie in godlines, to which these pettie faults, do serue as a kind of disposition. That base and seruil feare, which engendreth excessiue scruples, in the soules of those that are newlie escaped from the custome and thraldom of sinne, is a commendable virtue in beginners, and a sure and certaine signe, of a future pu­ritie of conscience in them: but the self same feare would be verie reprehen­sible in those, that haue profited in good life and deuotion, in whose harts that perfect loue should raigne and predominate, that by litle and litle, driueth this seruil feare out of doores.

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but I call Iesus to witnes, whome she serued, and whome I desire to serue, that I lye not, either on the one side, or on the other: but do sett downe cleerly what she was, as a Christian, writing of a Christian: that is, that write an historie, and not a panegyri­call oration of her life, and that her vices, be the virtues of others. His meaning is, that the defects and im­perfections of S. Paula, would haue borne the name and nature of virtues, in a soule of lesse perfection; As in very deed, there are actions which are deemed imperfections, in such as be perfect, which not with standing, would be esteemed great perfections, in those which yet are imperfect. It is a good signe in a sick man, when at the end of his sicknes, his legges do swell, for it shewes that nature now strengthened, casteth out her superfluous humours: but the very same signe, is bad and ominous in him, that were not sick at all, for it betokeneth the weaknesse of nature, not hauing force enough, to dissolue and dissipate those cor­rupt and naughtie humours.

4. My Philotheus, we must haue alway a good opinion and estimation of them, in whome we see the pra­ctize of virtues, although exercised with some defects and imperfections, since the great Saints them selues, haue often times exercised them in such manner. But for our owne parts, we must procure to exercise our sel­ues in them, not only diligently, but discreetly, and for that end, ob­serue carefullie and faithfullie the ad­uise and councell of wise men, not leaning to our owne prudence, but to the skill and wisdom of such, who­me God hath giuen vs for our condu­ctours.

5. There are certaine other per­ [...] which many esteeme and ac­count virtues, though in deed they be no virtues at all: of which it is needfull to speake a worde or two. I meane those perfections, which are called extasies, rauis ments in spirit, insensi­bilities, languishments, or impossi­bilitie of exteriour actions, deificall vnions, eleuations, transformations of the soule, and such like; of which [Page 236] some bookes do treat, promising to eleuate and promote the soule to con­templation, purely intellectual, to the essentiall application of the spirit, and of the supereminent life of the soule. Mark me well what I say, my Philo­theus, these perfections, be not virtues, but rather rewardes and recompences, that God giueth his seruants in this life for their virtues: or as it were scantlings, and listes, of the happines of the life to come, which somtime are presented vnto men, to make them de­sire to buy the whole peeces them sel­ues, which are aboue in Paradise. We must not pretend to come vnto-such high fauours and graces, since they are not any wise necessarie to serue and loue God well and truly, which should be our chief and only pretence: Neither are they graces which may ordinarilie be obtained, by our owne trauell or industrie, since they are ra­ther passions, then actions, which therfore we may well receaue, but worke them or produce them in vs, we can not. I adde more ouer that we haue not vndertooke any higher [Page 237] matter, then to make our selues vir­tuous, deuout, and good men and good wemen: and therfore it behoueth vs to bestow all our endeuour to that end; and if it please God to eleuate & extoll vs to these Angelicall perfections, we shalbe then also good Angels: but in the meane time, let vs exercise our selues simply, humbly, and deuoutly in these lower humane virtues, the conquest and gaining of which, our Saueour hath left to our owne power and diligence; such as are the virtues of patience, courtesie, meeknes, mor­tification of our harts, and willes, humi­litie, obedience, pouertie, chastyty, compassion towards our neighbours, and bearing with their imperfections, diligence, and holy feruour in fulfilling the will of God. Let vs leaue these su­pereminences, for superexcellent sou­les, we merit not so high a place in Gods seruice; it wilbe happines for vs, to serue our God, in his kitchin (as they say) or in his pantrie, to be lackies, porters, torche-bearers, groomes of the chamber, in his house. It is his mercy and inestimable goodnes only, if after­wards [Page 238] he please to remoue vs higher to his closet, and priuie chamber, or to be of his councell. Yea, my Philo­theus, this must be the resignation of our hart; for this king of glory, doth recompence his seruants, not according to the dignitie of the of­fices which they beare vnder him, but according to the measure of the loue and humilitie, with which they execute them. Saul seeking after his fathers Asses, found the crowne and kingdome of Israel. Rebecca by wa­tring Abrahams Camels, became the espouse of his sonne Isaac. Ruth, the Moabitesse, gleaning after the haruest men of Boos, and lying at his feete, was exalted to lie by his side, and made his wedded wife. Surely the pretentions and desires of such loftie, extraordinary, and admirable things, are obnoxious and subiect vnto il­lusions, deceipts, and errours; and it chaunceth oft times, that these sublimated persons, that thinck them selues Angels, are scantly so much as good men, and that there is more excellence and sublimitie in theire [Page 239] wordes, and rare termes, then fee­ling, and substance, in theire workes and actions. Yet must we not lightly dispraise, or rashly censure any thing, but blessing God for the superemi­nence of other men, rest our sel­ues humbly in this low, plaine, and easie way, which is indeed more plaine, but yet more secure; lesse excellent, but yet more suteable to our insufficiency and weaknes: wher­in if we conuerse humbly and faith­fully, God will lift vs vp to great­nes, great enough for our soules good.

Of Patience. CHAPTER 3.

1. PATIENCE is necessary for you, that performing the will of God, you may obtaine the promise, sayth the Apostle: yea, for as our Lord him self pronounced, In your patience you shall possesse your soules. It is the happiest thing that cā befall to mā (Philotheus) to haue [Page 240] his owne soule in sure and secure pos­session: and the more perfect that our patience is, the more secure is the pos­session of our soules: we must endeuour then to perfect this virtue in vs, to the vttermost of our power. Call to mind continually, that our blessed Redeemer faued vs, by suffering and enduring: and that we therfore in like manner, must work our saluation, by suffering afflictions, and enduring iniuries, and bearing contradictions, and displeasu­res, with the greatest meeknes that possible we can.

2. Limit not thy patience, to such and such kind of iniuries, and afflictiōs: but extend it magnanimously and vni­uersally, to all those that God shal send, and suffer to befall thee. There be some men that will suffer no tribulations, but such as be honourable: As for example, to be wounded in battaile, to be taken prisoner in warre, to be persequuted, and ill handled, for religion sake, to be impouerished by some sute or processe, in which they haue gott the vpper hand: these men loue not tribulation, but the honour which the tribulation [Page 241] bringeth. He that is patient in deed, and a true seruant of God. Suffereth in­differently those tribulations, that are coupled with infamie and shame, as well as those that be honourable. To be reprehended, accused, slandered by naughtie and wicked men, is a pleasure to a man of courage: but to suffer these accusations and persequutions at the hands of our parents and frinds, and of such as are good and virtuous, and esteemed so, there is the right triall of true patience, there it is in deed, that we must play the men. I esteeme more of the meeknes, wherwith the blessed Cardinal Borromaeus, suffered a long time the publique reprehensions, which a great preacher of an order, exceedin­glie well reformed, thundered against him out of the pulpit: thē of all the cō ­bats which he had with any other. For like as the stinging of a Bee, is farre sorer and fulle of ache, then the byting of a flye: so the euil that one receaueth of good men, and the contradictions that they raise against one, are much more vnsupportable then others; and yet it chanceth very often, that two [Page 242] good and virtuous men, hauing both of them right intentions, through diuersi­tie of opinions, do stirre vp great perse­quutions & contradictions, one against the other.

3. Be patient, not onely in the great, and principall afflictions which arriue vnto thee, but allso in the accessories and accidents which depend thereon. Many could be content to haue affli­ctions happen vnto them, so that they might not be hurt, troubled or vexed by them. I am not grieued sayth one, that I am fallen into pouertie, but that by that meanes I cānot pleasure my frinds, nor bring vp my children in such hono­rable education as I desire. I care not (sayth another) were it not that the world will thinck, that this is befallen me by mine owne fault. Another would be cōtent some should speak ill of him, and would suffer it patiently, so that no man would beleeue the detractour. Others there are, that could willingly away with some part of the tribulation, as they suppose, but not with the whole. They are not impatient, or vexed (say they) that they are sick: but that they [Page 243] want mony to cure them selues of their sicknes, or that they that be about them, are too importunat and trouble­some to them. But I say (my Philo­theus) that we must haue patience, not only to be sick, but euen to be vi­sited with that disease that God will lay vpon vs, what euer it be, and in that place whersoeuer he will haue it happen to vs, and amongst such persons, and with those wants and incommodities, which he will; and the like is to be vn­derstood of all other tribulatiōs. When any damage or harme shall chaunce vn­to thee, oppose against it a Gods name, those remedies which thou cāst applie, for to do otherwise, were to tempt God almightie: but hauing done thy diligē ­ce in the matter, attend with an entire resignatiō, that successe & euent, which it shall please God to send: if he per­mitt the remedies to ouercome thy harmes, giue him thancks with reue­rence, if it please him that thy harmes surmount the remedies, blesse him with patience.

4. I am of the aduice of Saint Gre­gory. When thou art iustly accused [Page 244] for any fault which thou hast commit­ted, humble thy self for it, and confesse vnfainedlie, that thou deseruest more then the accusation that is layd against thee. But yf thou be accused falsly, ex­cuse thy self with all meeknes, denying thy self to be guiltie of that which is layd to thy charge, for thou owest that dutie to the truth, and to the edifica­tion of thy neighbour; But withall, yf after thy true and lawfull discharge, men cōtinue notwithstanding their ac­cusation against thee, striue not much to make thy excuse be admitted and be­leeued, for hauing complied with the dutie thou owest vnto the truth, thou must render also the dutie thou owest to humilitie. Thus thou shalt neither offend, against the care that thou oughtest to haue of thy good renowne, nor against the loue and affection, which thou shouldst haue to tranquil­litie of hart, meeknes, and humi­litie.

5. Complaine as litle as thou canst of the wrongs that be done thee; for ordinarilie he that cōplaineth of them, sinneth: because self loue alway maketh [Page 245] vs beleeue the iniuries offered vs, to be worse then indeed they be. But aboue all things complaine not to such per­sons, as are apt to take indignation, and to turne all to the worst. Yf it be expedient to make thy mone to any, either to get the offence remedied, or thy mind eased, let it be done to quiet & peaceable soules, that loue God since­relie; for otherwise, insteed of easing and discharging thy griefs, they will prouoke thee to greater disquiet: in steed of pulling out the thorne that pricketh thee, they will fasten and slick it deeper into thy foote.

6. Manie being sick, afflicted, or molested, refraine them selues frō com­plaining, or shewing any delicatenes, iudging (& that rightlie) that it would euidentlie testifie want of courage and generositie in them: but for all that, they desire exceedingly, and by slights and subtilities procure, that other men bemone them, take cōpassion of them, and esteeme them to be not onlie af­flicted, but patient, yea, and coura­geous also in their afflictions. This is a kind of patience indeed, but a false [Page 246] one, which in effect, is nothing else but a fine subtil and secret pride and vanitie: They haue glorie (saith the A­postle) but not before God. The true pa­tient man, neither complaineth of his griefs and harmes, nor desireth to be pittied and bemoned: he speaketh of his case cleerly, truly, and simplie, without lamentations, or aggrauations: yf he be pittied, he thancketh God for the charitie and comfort shewed him, and patientlie suffereth him self to be pit­tied, vnlesse they bemone the harme or euil, which he hath not: for then will he modestly declare, that he suf­fereth no such grief, as they imagin; and in this sort continueth peacea­bly, betwixt truth and patience, con­fessing, not complaining of his affli­ctions.

7. In the contradictions which be­fall thee in the exercise of deuotion, (for they will not be lacking one ti­me or other) remember the words of our Sauiour Iesus Christ: A woman when she is in trauail, hath anguish because her hour is come: but when she hath brought foorth her child, then she remembreth not [Page 247] the anguishe, for ioy that a man is borne into the world. Thou conceiuest spiri­tuallie in thy soule the noblest child in the world, to wit, Iesus Christ; vntill he be brought foorth altogether, thou canst not choose but suffer excessiue pangs: but be of a good hart, these dolours once past, thou shalt find euer­lasting ioye, for hauing brought foorth such a child to the world. And he shalbe whollie brought foorth and bor­ne in thee, when thou framest, and conformest thy hart and thy actions, to the imitation of his life.

8. When thou art sick offer vp all thy griefs, paines, aches, & languishments, to the honour and seruice of our Lord: and beseech him to ioine & vnite them with the torments which he suffered for thee. Obey thy physician, take those medicines, meats and remedies which he prescribeth, for the loue of God, cal­ling to mind the gall which he tasted for our sakes: desire to amend, that thou mayst serue him; refuse not to lāguishe, that thou mayst obey him: and dispose thy self to die (yf so it please him) that thou mayst prayse and enioy him. Con­sider [Page 248] that the Bees whē they make their hunny, do liue and eate of a bitter pro­uision: and that we in like manner, can neuer exercise sweeter acts of patience, nor compose more excellent hunny of true virtues, thē when we eate the bread of bitternes, and liue in the middest of afflictions. And as the hunny which is gathered frō thyme, a litle bitter herbe, is the best that is: so virtue exercised in the bitternes of vile, base, and most ab­iect tribulations, is the finest and excel­lentest of all.

9. Reflect often times the inward eyes of thy soule, vpon Christ Iesus cru­cified, naked, blasphemed, slandred, for­saken for thy loue, and in a word, ouer­whelmed with all sortes of sorowes, griefs, and persequutions. Consider that all thy sufferings, neither in qualitie, nor quantitie, are in any sort comparable vnto his: and that thou cāst neuer suffer any thing for his sweet sake, in compa­rison of that which he hath endured for thine.

10. Consider the pangs and tormēts, which in old time the martyrs suffered; and the dolours and griefs which at [Page 249] this time many endure, more grieuous without all proportion, then those which thou endurest, and say to thy self: Alas, my paines be consolations, and my briers be roses in comparison of them, which without all succour, at­tendaunce, or relief, do liue in a perpe­tuall death, ouercharged with afflictiōs infinitlie heauier then mine are.

Of exteriour Humilitie. CHAPTER 4.

1. BORROW and take many empty vessels (sayd Elizaeus vnto the poore Widowe) and powre oyle into them. To receaue abundance of the grace of God into our harts, they must be voide of self pride and vain­glorie. The Kesterell criyng & looking constantly vpon the haukes, and other birds of preye, doth terrifie thē by a se­cret propretie or virtue which it hath by nature, therfore the fearfull Doues, do loue it aboue all other birds, and liue in securitie in companie of it so [Page 250] humilitie rebutteth the eager onsett of Satan, and conserueth the graces and guiftes of the holy Ghost in vs, and therefore all the Saints of heauen, but especially Christ the king of Saints and his blessed mother, made more esteeme of this virtue, then of any other amongst all the morall virtues.

2. We call that glorie vaine, which one taketh of him self, either for that which is not in him, or for that which is in him, but is none of his; or for that which is in him, and is his owne, but deserues not that one should glorie of it. Nobilitie of race, fauour with great potentates, popular honour, be things that are not in vs, but in our progeni­tours, or in the estimation of other men. Some men there be, that shew them selues fierce and stout, because they be mounted on a lusty courser, or for a great goodly fether in their cap, or for their costly and sumptuous appa­rel: but who seeth not this to be follie? For yf there be any glorie at all in the­se cases, it is glorie for the horse, for the bird, and for the tailer: and what great want of witt is it, to borrow cre­dit [Page 251] and estimation from a horse, from a bird, from a new fashiond ruffe? Others bragge, and behold themsel­ues with great satisfaction, for a good­lye long moustaches, or a trimme beard, for their curled lockes, and soft hands: or for skill in dauncing, singing, playing: but are not those hartlesse, and base minded men, who fetch their estimation and reputation, from such friuolous and fond trifles? Others for a litle knowledge and learning, would be honoured & respected in the worlde, as yf euerybody should come to schoo­le to learne of them, and account them their maisters, for which cause they are rightly termed pedantical companions. Others carie thē selues like peacocks, proud of their beautie, and thinck all the world is fond of them. All these humours are vaine, foolish, and imper­tinent: and glorie grounded vpon such weak and feeble foundations, is vaine and friuolous.

3. A man may know true virtue like true baulme: for baulme is tried by dipping it into the water; yf it sinck to the bottom, it is counted the most [Page 252] excellent and pretious. Euen so to know whether a man be in deed wise, learned, generous, noble, mark whether these good gifts and qualities tend in him to humilitie, modestie, and sub­mission, for then they be true in deed: but if they swimme aboue water, if they striue to appeare and shew them selues, they are so much the lesse sub­stantiall, and more superficiall, by how much more apparent they are, or would be. Pearles that be conceaued and grow in the wind, or in time of thunder, haue nothing but the barke, or shell of a pearle, and are voide of substance: so these virtues and good qualities bred and nourished in pride, boasting, and vanitie, haue nothing but a simple shew and appearance of good, without iuice, without marrow, without soliditie and substance. Ho­nours, estates, and dignities, are like to saffron, which is best, & groweth most plentifully, whē it is trodden vnder feet. It is no honour to be faire in a mans owne eyes: beautie, to haue a good grace in deed, should be somwhat ne­glected: knowledge dishonours vs, [Page 253] when it puffeth vs vp, and degenerateth then to plaine pedanterie.

4. If we stand curiously vpon our points, touching precedence and pre­eminence in place and titles, besides the exposing of our selues to the danger of hauing our qualities too narowly sif­ted, examined, and contradicted, we make them vile and contemptible: for honour, which is indeed honourable, when it is freely giuen and granted, be­comes foule, infamous, and shamefull when it is affected, sought after, and in a manner begged, and wrested, from them in whose companie we are. When the Peacock brustles vp his gay starrie wheele, lifting vp his goodly painted feathers to be looked vpon, he forget­teth him self, that in the meane while he sheweth other parts, which are most ill fauoured in him. Flowers that be beau­tifull, growing vpon the ground, or in the garden-beds, wither away with much handling. The sweet smell of the Mandragora taken a farre of, & but for a short time, is most pleasaunt: but they that smell to it very neere, and a long time, become altogether drowsie, faint,

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Of Humility more internall then the former. CHAP. 5.

1. BVT thou desirest I see Philo­theus, to be farther endoctrined in humilitie: for that which we haue hetherto sayd, is rather wisdome and good manners, then humilitie: let vs therfore passe on farther.

2. Many there are, that will not, and dare not ponder and consider, the gra­ces that God hath giuen them in parti­cular, fearing least they should therby fall into vaine glorie, & self conceipted loue, whereas in deed they deceaue thē selues: for since the true direct meanes to attaine to the loue of God (as S. Thomas the Angelicall doctour tea­cheth) is the consideration of his bene­fits, the more we consider them, the more we shall loue him; and as particu­lar benefits do more efficaciously moue and winne affection, then such as are common to other: so ought they to be pondered and wayed more attentiuely. Certain it is, that nothing can humble vs so much before the mercie of God, [Page 257] as the knowledge of the infinite multi­tude of his benefits, neither can any thing so much humble vs before his iustice, as the multitude of our offen­ces. Let vs then consider what he hath done for vs, and what we haue done against him: and as we consider and way our sinnes one by one, so let vs ac­knowledge & suruay his graces one by one. Neuer feare that the knowledge which he giues vs of his graces, will puffe vs vp in pride, so long as we be attentiue to this knowne and acknow­ledged veritie, that whatsoeuer is good in vs, is altogether from God, and not from our selues. Alas, Mules and Ca­mels, cease they to be lumpishe and brute beasts, though they be neuer so loaded with the pretious and perfumed moueables of the prince? What hast thou which thou hast not receaued? sayth the Apostle; and yf thou hast receaued it, why doest thou glorye? Nay contrariwise, the liuelie and feeling consideration, of the fauours receaued from Gods hand, humbleth vs; because knowledge en­geadreth acknowledgement.

3. But yf in this reuiew and accoun­ting [Page 258] (as it were) of the graces of God, any kind of vanitie should tickle vs: the infallible, and easie remedie is, to passe by and by, to the consideration of our ingratitude, of our imperfections, and of our miseries; Yf we consider what we haue done, when God was not with vs, we shall soone acknowledge, that all which we haue done, since he hath been with vs, is not our handy work, nor is not of our owne stock; we shall enioy them, and reioice that we haue them, but we shall glorifie God alone, for being the sole auth our and giuer of them. So the blessed virgin, confessed and professed, that God had wrought great and admirable things in her, and for her, but she confessed it for no other cause, then for to humble her self, and to glorifie God: My soule (sayth she) doth magnify our Lord, because he hath done great things to me.

4. We vse to say manie times, that we are nothing, that we are miserie it self, that we are the skumme and out­casts of the world: but we would be loath any man should take vs at our word, and publish vs abroad to be such [Page 259] as we say we are: Nay we make as if we would hide our selues, to the end men may runne after vs, and searche vs out; we make show as yf we would in­deed be the last, & sitt at the louest end of the table: but we do soe that with more credit we may be set at the vpper­end of all. True humilitie neuer she­weth her self, nor vseth many words of humble sound, because she inten­deth not onely to hide other virtues, but withall and aboue all, to hide her owne self And yf it were lawfull for her to lie, to dissemble, or scandalize her neighbour, she would vse manie an action of arrogancie, and brauerie that vnder them she might hide her selfe, & so be altogether couered & vnknowne. My aduice therfore is this Philotheus, either let vs vse no words of humilitie at all, or let vs vse them with an inward feeling, meaning in our hart, as we pronoūce with our mouth. Let vs neuer cast our eyes downe to the ground, but humbling our harts with all: let vs not seeme to desire the lowest roome, vnlesse we desire it frō our hart. And I hold this rule so general, that I bring no exceptiō [Page 260] only I adde, that courtesie requireth, that we present the aduantage somtime to those, whome we know manifestly will refuse it: for this is no double dea­ling, nor false humilitie, for in this case the only proffer of the aduantage in place, or precedence, or such like, is an honouring of them to whome we prof­fer it and since then, one cannot giue them entirely that which in hart we would, we do not ill to giue it them in part. The like I vnderstand of some ter­mes of honour, and respect, which (to examin them in rigour) seeme not to be true, & yet are in deed true enough, yf the hart of him that pronounceth them, haue a true intention, to honour, and respect him, for whose sake he vseth those tearmes. For although the words doe signifie with some excesse, that which we would say: yet it is not ill done to vse them, when common cu­stom of ciuilitie requireth it. I wishe that our wordes, were always ioined to our intention and affection, as neer as it is possible, so to follow in all, and through all, the pure and naked simpli­citie of a virtuous hart.

5. A man that is truly humble, would rather that another should say of him that he is a miserable wretche, that he is nothing, nor worth nothing, then to say so much him self: at least, if he know that any man say so of him, he doth not gainsay it, but agreeth to it with all his hart: for since he beleeueth firmely & vnfainedly, that he is in deed worth nothing, he is right glad to haue others of his mind and opinion.

6. Manie say that they leaue mentall prayer, for those that are perfect, that they themselues are not worthie to fre­quent such an exercise. Others protest they dare not communicate often, be­cause they feele not them selues pure enough. Others that verely they feare least they should disgrace deuotion, if they should entermedle with it, by rea­son of their great miserie and frailtie: Others refuse to employ their talent in the seruice of God, and of their neigh­bour, because (say they) they knowe theire owne weaknes, and feeblenes: and that they feare to become proude, if they should be instruments of any good: & that in giuing light to others, [Page 262] they should consume them selues. All this is an artificiall kind of humilitie, not only false, but also malignant, wherby one seeketh secretly and sub­tilly, to blame the guifts of God, or at the least with the cloke of humilitie, to couer the loue of his owne humour and slothfulnes. Demaund of God a signe, either, from heauen aboue, or from the depth of the sea below: sayd the prophet to vn­happie Achaz, and he answerd: I will demaund none, neither will I tempt God. O wicked man, he would seeme to beare great reuerence to God, and vn­der colour of humilitie, excuseth him self from aspiring to the grace which Gods goodnes offereth vnto him: but he vnderstood not, that when our Lord offereth vs his graces, it is pride to re­fuse them; that the guifts of God, obli­ge vs to receaue them, and that true hu­militie, is to obey and folow his will and desire the neerest we can. But Gods desire is, that we become perfect, vniting our selues vnto him, and imita­ting him the best we can. The proud man which trusteth in him self, hath iust occasion (if he knew it) to vnder­take [Page 263] take nothing: but he that is humble, is so much more courageous, by how much more vnable he acknowled­geth him selfe: and according to the measure that he measureth his owne frailtie, his boldnes in God in­creaseth; for all his trust is in God, and God (he knowes) delighteth to exalt his omnipotencie, in our infir­mitie, and to magnifie his mercie, by our miserie. We must then humbly and holily dare and vndertake, what soeuer is iudged fit and conuenient to our spirituall aduancement, by them that haue the guiding of our soules.

7. To thinck one knoweth that, which he knoweth not, is an expresse follie: to play the learned man in that, in which it is manifest we haue no skill nor experience, is an intolera­ble vanitie. For my part, I would not take vpon me a learned mans per­son, euen in things which I were certaine that I knew wel enough: as cōtrariewise, I would not counterfet my self altogether ignorant. When charitie requireth, we must readilie and sweetlie [Page 264] communicate to our neighbour, not only that, which is necessarie for his instruction, but withall, that which is profitable for his consolation: for hu­militie, which hideth and concealeth virtues, to conserue them in their pu­ritie, doth neuertheles discouer them, and make them shew them selues, when charitie commandeth, to increase and perfect them. Wherin she resem­bleth a tree in the Isles of Tylos, which all night long, locketh and encloseth vp her faire carnation flowers, and doth not open them, but at the rising of the sunne, so that the inhabitants of the countrie do say, that these flowers do sleep by night: for euen so humili­tie, couereth and hideth all our virtues and humane perfections, and letteth them not be seene abroad, but when charitie commandeth: and charitie being a virtue not humane, but heauen­ly, not moral but diuine, is the verie true sunne of all other virtues, vpon which she must therfore euer predominate: so that humilitie which is preiudicious to charitie, is without all doubt false humilitie.

8. I would neither coūterfeit a foole, nor a wiseman: for yf humilitie forbid me to counterfeit my self wise, simpli­citie and plainnes forbid me likewise, to coūterfeit my self a foole: for as vanitie and pride are contrarie to humilitie; so are affectation and dissembling cōtrarie to simplicitie, and plaine-dealing. And yf some great seruāts of God haue made as yf they had been fooles, to render them selues more abiect in the eyes of the worlde, we must admire them, and not imitate them: for they had motiues that induced them to this excesse, which were so peculiar vnto them, & extraor­dinarie, that no man ought from then­ce to inferre any consequence for him self. As for Dauid, when he daunced before the arke of the testament, with some more demonstration of myrth, then seemed to beseeme the maiestie of a king, he did it not as counter­faiting any foolish myrthe, but simplie and plainlie vsed he these exteriour mo­tions, conformable to the extraordi­narie gladnes which he felt in his hart. True it is, that when Michol his wife vp braided him for this fact, as to base [Page 266] and fond for a king, he was neuer a whit sorrie to see himselfe despised, but perseuering in the true and sincere re­presentation of the ioye which he had conceiued in his soule, he protested that he was likewise glad to receaue a litle shame for the loue of his God. And consequently I say, that yf for acts of true and profound deuotion, thou be esteemed simple, abiect, and base-minded, humilitie will make thee reioyce at this happie shame, the cause wherof is not in thee, but in them that lay it vpon thee.

That humilitie maketh vs loue our owne debasement and abiection. CHAPTER 6.

1. I PASSE farther Philotheae, to tel thee, that aboue all things thou loue thy owne abiection. But thou wilt aske me, what it is to loue our owne abiection. In latin abiection is all one with humilitie, and humilitie with [Page 267] abiection: for so when our Ladie in her sacred hymne, sayth, that all genera­tions should tearme her blessed, becau­se God had seene the humilitie of his hādmaide: her meaning is, that our Lord beheld with great loue her abiection, her basenes, and lownesse, to endowe her with fauours & inestimable graces. Yet there is great difference between the virtue of humilitie, and abiection: for abiection is the litlenes, basenes, poornes, & the nothing that is in vs of our owne selues, we not knowing nor considering it: but as for the virtue of humilitie, it is a true feeling knowled­ge, and voluntarie acknowledgement of our abiection and vilenesse.

2. But the principall point of humi­litie consisteth not only in this willing acknowledgement of our abiection, but to loue it, and take a delight and contentment in it: not for want of courage or magnanimitie, but to extoll so much the more the diuine maiestie, and to esteeme much better of our neighbour in comparison of our selues. This point is that which I exhort thee to insist in most of al: [Page 268] and that thou mayst the better vnder­stand and conceiue it. Consider that amongst the afflictions and troubles which we suffer in this life, some of them be base, contemptible, and abiect, other be honourable, and glorious, and many applie them selues willinglie to honourable tribulations, but scarce any at all will abide those that be abiect & ignominious. So a deuout hermit all ragged, and shiuering for cold, euerie bodie honoureth his torne habit, ta­king compassion of that which he en­dureth: but yf a poore tradeseman, a de­cayed gentleman, or a poore gentlewo­man be in the same case, men despise and mock them: and so thou seest how their pouertie is abiect, and igno­minious. A religious man receaueth de­uoutly a rigorous reprehensiō of his su­periour, and a child of his father, and all men count it and call it mortifica­tion, obedience, and good manners: but let a knight, or some great ladie, suffer the like of another, and although they do it for the loue of God, men will call it cowardlinesse, pusillanimitie, & lack of courage: behold heere is another [Page 269] abiect euil. One hath a cancker on his arme, and another vpon his face: the first hath only the disease, which is bad enough; but this other iointly with the disease, hath contempt, shame, and abiection in all companie. What say I then of louing abiection? I say, that we must not only loue the harme it self, which we do by the virtue of pa­tience: but we must also loue the con­tempt, the shame, the vilenes, basenes, and abiection therof, which we doe by the virtue of humilitie.

3. Againe there be some virtues, that seeme abiect and contemptible, other that are honorable and respected by all men. Patience, meeknes, plaindealing, simplicitie, & humility it self, are of the number of those virtues, which worldly men hold as vile, and abiect: contra­riwise they make great estimation of wisdome, fortitude, and liberalitie. There be also diuerse actions of the self same virtue, wherof some be con­temptible, and others honorable; to giue almes, and to pardon iniuries and offences, are both of them acts proceeding from charitie: and the [Page 270] first is honoured of all men, the last most base in the eyes of the blind world. A young gentleman or gentle­woman, that will not disorder them selues, with a companie of dissolute mates in prating, dauncing, drincking, superfluous pompe, and curiositie of apparell, shalbe scoffed at and censu­red by others, and their laudable mo­destie, termed hypocrisie or affected sanctitie: To loue these censures, to reioyce in that the world hath this opinion of vs, is to loue our owne abiection. Behold againe another sort of abiection which we must loue. We goe to visit the sick, many of vs together: if I be sent to the most miscrable, that is to me an abiection in the iudgement of the world, and for that cause will I embrace it more willingly: but if I be sent to visit a person of more qualitie, it is an abiection according to iudgement of the spirit, for there is not [...] so much virtue nor merit, and therefore I will loue this abiection likewise. One falleth in the midst of the street, and not only receaueth damage ther­by, [Page 271] but is also shamfully laughed at: this is an abiection which we must make much of.

4. There are some defects also, which haue no other harme in them, but only the shame that they bring with them: and humilitie, though it require not that one should committ them of sett purposes; yet it requireth that one disquiet not him self, for ha­uing fallen into some such defect. These defects which I now speak of, be certaine fooleries, inciuilities, in­considerate acts, or words, which as we ought to eschew before they be committed, to obay ciuilitie and pru­dence: so when they are once com­mitted, we must be content with the reproache that commeth therby, and accept it willingly, that so we may folow the rule of holie humilitie. I say yet more: yf I chaunce to disordre my self through passion, or dissolution, or to speak some vndecent words, wher with God and my neighbour are of­fended: I will repent my self harte­lie, with true sorowe for the sinne [Page 272] committed, and procure to repare the harme or offence done to my neigh­bour the best that possible I can: but I will be content, and right glad, with the shame, contempt, and abiection which therby I haue incurred; and if the one could possibly be separated from the other, I would sincerely cast away the sinne, and earnestly retaine the abiection.

5. But though we loue the abiection and contempt, which foloweth some euel or defect of ours: we must not ne­glect the redresse of the ill (that caused it) by conuenient and lawfull meanes, especially, when the euil is of some consequence and importance. As if I haue some deformed loathsome disease vpon my face, I will procure to haue it cured, but not to haue men forget the deformitie which it caused. Yf I haue committed some foolery, which is of­fensiue to no man, I will not excuse my self at all: because although it was a defect, and a fault, it is not perma­nent, and therfore it needeth no excuse but onely for the abiection, shame, or contempt which befalls me for it, [Page 273] and to excuse that, is against humilitie. But if through my vnaduisednesse and follie, I haue offended, or scandalized any man: I will make amends for the offence by some probable excuse, be­cause it containeth a permanent ill; and that charitie obligeth me to blot out and deface if I can.

6. To conclude it happeneth some times, that charitie commandeth vs to remedie and wipe away, the abiection & contempt which we incurre, because our reputation & good name, is neces­sarie for the edification of our neigh­bours. And in that case, though we re­moue abiection & contempt, from our neighbours eyes, least he should be scandalized or troubled therby: yet must we carefully lock it vp like a pre­tious Iewell in our hart, that we our selues may be edified therby.

7. Perchaunce thou wouldst learne of me, Philotheus, which abiections amongst all are to be esteemed best? and I tell thee plainly in one word, that those are most profitable to our soules, and most acceptable to God, which happen to vs as it were by chaunce, or [Page 274] by the course, condition and estate of our life, because we choose thē not, but receaue them only from the hands of God, that sends them, whose ele­ction and choice we know, is always better for vs, then our owne. But yf we were to choose them our selues, then the greatest are the best for vs: and those are to be esteemed greatest, which are most contrarie to our incli­nations, (so that they be conformable to our vocation) for to speak the truth once for all, our owne choice spoileth in a manner, and bringeth to naught all our virtues. O who will giue vs the grace, to say from our hart in all since­ritie with that great king: I haue made choice to be an abiect in the house of God, ra­ther then to dwell in the tabernacles of sin­ners? None certainly can giue vs this grace (deare Philothee) but he that to exalt vs, liued and died for vs in such manner, that he was esteemed the out­cast of men, and the most abiect of the people.

I haue told thee many things Philo­theus, which no doubt will seeme som­what hard vnto thee when thou consi­derest [Page 275] them: but beleeue me, they will be sweeter then sugar or hunny to thee, when thou dost put them in practize.

How to keep our good renowne in the practize of humility. CHAPTER 7.

1. HONOVR, praise, and glorie are not giuen to men for eue­rie ordinarie virtue, but for some excellent and notable virtue: for by prayse we seek to perswade others to esteeme the excellency of some man in whome such a virtue excelleth: by honour we protest that we our selues do esteeme him therfore: & glorie in my iudgemēt, is nothing els, but a certaine lustre, splendour, or shining bright­nes of reputation, which ariseth frō the concourse of many praises & honours. So that honours and prayses, are as it were pretious stones and pearles, from [Page 276] whence glorie produceth his lustre, and varnish, like to enamel. Now hu­militie, not being able to endure, that we should haue any opinion, of our owne excellence or precedence before others, cannot likewise suffer, that we should hunt after praise, honour, nor glorie, which be due only to some kind of excellencie: but yet she consenteth to the aduertisement of the wiseman, who admonisheth vs, to haue care of our credit: because good renowne is an estimation, not of any excellencie, but absolutly, of an ordinarie prudence, and integritie of a well-gouerned life, which humilitie forbiddeth not to acknowledge in our selues, and so con­sequently willeth vs to desire this repu­tation. True it is that humilitie would likewise cōtemne this renowne, if cha­ritie stoode not in need of it: but be­cause it is one of the foundatiōs of hu­mane societie, and without it, we are not only vnprofitable, but also damageable to the communitie in which we liue, through the scandall which it receaueth by our ill name, there charitie requi­reth, and humilitie accordeth, that we [Page 277] procure and most carefully conserue our good renowne.

2. Againe, as the leaues of trees, though in them selues of no great valew, yet serue for very much, not onely to beau­tifie the trees, but also for the conserua­tion of their fruicts, whilst they be yet young and tender: so good renowne, of it self not much to be desired, is not with stāding exceeding profitable, both for the ornament of our life, as also for the garde and conseruation of our vir­tues, especially while they be yet tender and feeble, as being but newlie habitua­ted in vs. The obligatiō of maintaining our reputation, and of procuring to be such in deed, as men thinck vs to be, forceth a noble courage, in a manner, with a sweet king of violence. Let vs conserue our virtues my Philotheus, as iewels very acceptable to God, the chief and soueraigne obiect of all our actiōs; But as they that would keep fruict very long, are not content to stew, confit, and conserue them with sugar, but with all put them into vessels, fit and commo­dious for the preseruation of them: so albeit the loue of God be the principall [Page 278] preseruer of our virtues, yet may we with all imploye our good name and renowne, as a thing most conuenient to keep them in vigour.

3. Yet must we not be ouer-pun­ctuall, nor too curious and exact in conseruation of our reputation: for such as be so tender and ticklish in their good name, are like vnto them, that for euerie slight infirmitie do take physick. For as these imagining by such extraordinarie care, to conserue their health, do vtterly ouerthrow it: so these iealous defenders of their reputa­tion, do altogether loose it by stan­ding so much vpon it, becoming ther­fore phantasticall, murmurours, pick-quatrells, and prouoke the malice of bad tongues against them. To dissem­ble an iniurie offered, or to contemne it, is ordinarily a farre better remedie, then the reuenging or quarrelling vpon it, for contempt of calumniations, ma­keth them vanishe away: wheras yf we be moued and angred with them, we seeme to confesse and aduow them as deseruedly offered vs. Crocodiles hurt none but those that do feare them: ne­ther [Page 279] doth detraction endamage anie, but such as are aggrieued therwith. Ex­cessiue feare of loosing our estimation, argueth great distrust of the true foun­dation therof, which is the sinceritie and vnfained vprightnes of a virtuous life, and good conscience. Townes that haue woodden bridges ouer great riuers, doe feare least they should be borne downe by euerie flood, or encrease of waters: but they that haue bridges built of stone, do not care but only for extraordinarie inunda­tions: So they that haue a soule well grounded in Christian perfection, doe contemne the ordinarie excesse and ouerflowing of iniurious ton­gues; but such as knowe them selues weake in perfection, are disquieted with euery blast of broad-mouthed companions. And indeed (Philotheus) he that will haue the good opinion of all men, looseth it with all men, since it is impossible to please all men with one manner of carriage; and he deserueth to loose his reputation, that seeks to keep it, or haue it among thē, whose vices make them infamous.

4. Reputation and good renowne, is but a signe wherby we may vnder­stand where virtue is lodged, it is virtue then that must be preferred before all. Wherfore yf any call and count thee an hypocrite, because thou giuest thy self to deuotion; or hold thee for a co­ward, and base-minded person, because thou hast put vp an iniurie for Gods sake: laugh at such mens words and opi­nions; for beside that such iudgements are only made by fooles, contemp­tible ideots, or vanie braggars, a man must not forsake virtue, nor stirre out of the path of true pietie, although he should loose his reputation and fame; we must make more esteeme of fruict, then of leaues, and preferre interiour and spirituall virtues, before externall and corporall goods. It is lawfull to be zelous, but not to be idolaters of our credit; as we must not offend the eyes of the good, so must we not seeke to content the opinion of the malitious. The beard is an ornament to the face of euerie man, and large tresses of haire grace wemens heads: yf one pull away by the rootes (as it vere) the beard from [Page 281] the chinne, or the heare from the head, it will very hardly grow againe: but if it be onely cut and polled, nay though it should be shaued away all together, it would soone growe againe, and wax as copious as it was before. So al­though our credit and reputation be cut and shauen, as a man may say, by a detracting tongue (which Dauid saith is like to a sharpe razour) we must not therfore be disquieted, for by and by it will spring foorth againe, not only as faire as euer it was, but much more found and beautifull. But yf our vices, dissolute manners, and wicked life, take our reputation from vs, it will scarce grow againe, or be restored entirely, because it is so in a manner pulled vp by the roote. For the roote of true repu­tation, is virtue and good life, and ther­fore, as long as that is aliue in vs, our fame and credit will allways sprout and growe, and bring foorth fruit of ho­nour and estimation, due to virtue. When vaine conuersation, vnprofita­ble familiarity, fond frindship, & haun­ting of idle companie, hurt our reputa­tion: we must presently renounce and [Page 282] forsake them, for a good name is of more price and valew then all vaine con­tentments and passe times; But yf for the exercise of pietie, for profit and en­crease in virtue and deuotion, for mar­ching cheerfullie towards eternall hap­pinesse, men grumble, repine, murmur, and cauill at vs: then suffer these ma­stiues to bark against the moone, for though they may be able for a time, or among sone men, to raise an ill opi­nion against our good name, and by that meanes as it were shaue and polle away that ornament of our virtues; they will notwithstanding spring vp againe as abundantly as before, and the razour of these malicious back biting tongues, wilbe to our credit, as the gardeners hook to the vine; which by cutting of leaues, and pruning some super­fluous brāches, makes it become more fructifull.

5. Let vs fixe our eyes alway vpon our Sauiour Iesus Christ crucified for vs, and marche on confidently in his seruice, simplie and plainlie, yet pru­dentlie and discreetlie: and he wilbe the protectour of our reputation; yf [Page 283] he suffer it to be taken from vs; it is either to honour vs with a farre more glorious renowne, or at least wise to make vs profit in the exercise of holy humilitie, wherof one onely ounce, is better then a thousand pounds of honours and estimations. Yf we be vniustlie defamed, let vs meekly and quietly oppose the plaine truth against false calummation: yf then neuer the lesse cauills perseuer, let vs like­wise perseuer in humbling our selues, resigning our reputation, together with our soule into Gods hands, we cannot place it in better securitie; Let vs setue God in infamie or good fame, according to saint Paules ex­ample, that we may say to God with Dauid, for thee (ô Lord) haue I suffered shame, and confusion hath couered my face. I except neuerthe­lesse certaine enormious crimes, so infamous, that no man ought to suf­ferre him selfe to be falselie charged with them: when he can lawfullie disprooue the defamers; and cer­taine persons likewise, vpon whose reputation and credit the edification [Page 284] of manie soules dependeth: for in these cases we must with tranquillitie and dis­creet moderation, stand vpon the de­fence of our honour and good name, according to the doctrine of al diuines.

Of meeknes and gentlenes to wardes our neighbours; and remedies against anger. CHAP. 8.

1. THE holy, Chrisme which by apostolicall tradition we vse in the churche of God for confir­mations and consecrations, is compo­sed of oile of Oliues, mingled with Baulme: which beside other things, re­presenteth vnto vs, the two deere and louely virtues which shined in the sacred person of our Lord, and which he most particularly did commēd vnto vs, as yf by them our hart were especial­ly to be consecrated to his seruice, and applied to his imitation: Learne of me (sayth he) for I am meek & humble of hart. Humilitie perfecteth vs to Godward, and mildnes, or meeknes towards our neighbour. The Baulme which (as I [Page 285] sayde before) sinketh to the lowest pla­ce in all other liquors, representeth hu­militie: and the oyle of Oliues, which swimmeth always aboue other liquors, signifieth mildnes and affabilitie, which among all virtues is most excellent and of delightfullest appeerance, as being the flower of charitie: for charitie (ac­cording to S. Bernard) is then most perfect, when it is not onely patient, but mild also and courteous.

2. But take heede, Philotheus, that this mysticall Chrisme, composed of meekenes & humilitie be indeed with in thy hart, for it is one of the greatest subtilities of the deuil, to make many a man verie cnriously studie, to make a shew of these two virtues in words and exteriour complements, who not exa­ming throughly their inward affections esteeme them selues humble and meek, where as in deed they be nothing soe; which we may well perceaue, because for all their ceremonious mildnes and humilitie, at the least crosse word gi­uen them, at the verie least iniurie prof­fered them, they puffe and swell like toades, with meruailous arrogancie and [Page 286] impatience. They say, that those who haue taken the preseruatiue, com­monlie called, the grace of S. Paul, swell not at all by the bityng and stin­ging of vipers, prouided that the pre­seruatiue be not counterfeit: in like manner, when humilitie and mildnes are true and vnfained, they preserue vs from the burning soares and swelling humours, which iniuries are wont to raise in mens harts. But yf being stung and bitt by the slanderous and mali­cious tongues of our enemies, we swell with fiercenes, spite, and rage: it is an euident signe, that our humilitie and meeknes, is not franck and free, but artificiallie counterfetted.

3. That holie and illustrious pa­triarche Ioseph, sending back his bre­thren from Egypte to his father, gaue them this only aduice: Be not angrie by the way. I say the self same to thee, Phi­lotheus, this wretched life, is but a waye to the happie life of heauen: let vs not be angrie one with another in this waye, but marche with the troupe of our brethren and companions swee­tlie, peaceably, and louingly: and I [Page 287] meane we should do so roundly without all exception. Be not angrie at all, yf it be possible, take no occasion or pre­text what soeuer be offered, to open the gate of your hart to anger, for. S. Iames tells vs very brieflie, and without any distinction or reseruation: the anger of man worketh not the iustice of God.

4. We must indeed resist the euil, and suppresse the vices of them that are vnder our charge, constantly and stout­ly: but yet mildly, and peaceablie. No­thing so soone tameth the Elephant being angred, then the sight of a litle lambe: nothing breaketh so easilie the force of canon short, as soft wooll: we esteeme not so much the correctiō that proceeds from passion, though it be ac­cōpained with neuer so much reason, as that which hath no other cause or be­ginning but reason. For the soule of mā being naturallie subiect to the rule of reason, is neuer subiect to passiō but ty­rannicallie: and therfore when reason is accōpained with passion she maketh her self odious, her iust gouernement being abased & vilyfied, by the felowship of the tyrāt passiō. Princes do honour & cōfort [Page 288] their people exceedinglie when they visit them with a peaceable traine: but when they come garded with ar­med troupes, though it be for the good of the commonwealth, their coming is allwaies displeasing and dammageable; for let them keepe militarie discipline neuer so rigorously among their sol­diours, yet they can neuer bring it so to passe, but some disorder will alway chaunce, whereby the good poore man is iniuried. Euen so, as long as reason ruleth, and exerciseth sweetly and mil­dly the chastissements, corrections, and reprehensions due to offences, although they be inflicted exactly and with ri­gour, euerie man loueth and liketh of it: but when she brings with her those armed passions of wrath, choler, spite, and rage, taunts, and frownings (which S. Austin calleth the soldiours of rea­son) she maketh her self more drea­ded then loued, and euen her owne hart becomes therby afflicted, and ill handled.

5. Better it is (sayth the same glo­rious Saint writing to his frind Profu­turns) to denie the entrie to anger, be it [Page 289] neuer vpon so iust & reasonable a cau­se, then to receaue it, be it neuer so litle into our harts: for being once admit­ted, it is hardly gott out adores againe: for it entreth like a litle braunche, and in a moment waxeth a great tree: and yf it can but gaine the night of vs, that the sunne do but sett vpon our anger (which the Apostle forbiddeth) conuer­ting it selfe into hatred and rancour, there is almost no remedie to be freed from it: for it nourisheth it self with ae thousand surmises and false persuasions: because neuer was there yet any angrie man, that thought his anger to be cau­selesse, or vniust. It is better then and easier, to learne and accustom our sel­ues, to liue without choler, then to vse our choler and anger moderatly, and discreetly. But yf through imperfection and frailtie, we find our selues surprised and ouertaken therwith, it is better to chace it away speedelie, then to stand dalliyng and as it were copning with it. For giue it neuer so litle leaue, and it wilbe mistresse of the fort, and like the serpent, which can easilie draw in his whole bodie, where he can once get [Page 290] in his head.

6. But thou wilt say, how shall I re­presse and refraine my anger once hea­ted and inflamed? Thou must Philo­theus, at the first assault of choler, spee­dilie assemble thy forces together, re­flecting vpon that which thou hast in hand, not rudely nor violently, but mil­dly and gentlie, though seriously and in all earnest. For as wee see in the audien­ces & assemblies of the senats or courts, the vshers, with criyng of peace, ma­ke more noise a great deale, then those whome they bid to be silent: so it hap­peneth manie times, that endeuouring with impetuositie and manie force to asswage our choler, we stirre vp more perturbation and trouble in our selues, then the motion it self of choler had done before, so that the hart being thus troubled, is no more maister of itself.

7. Secondly after this soft and sweet straining of thy powers, to reflect vpon them selues, practize the aduice which S. Austin being now old, gaue vnto the young bishop Auxilius. Doe (saith he) that which a mā should doe. Yf that cb chaunce thee, which the mā of God [Page 291] sayd, in the psalme. My eye is troubled for anger, haue recourse vnto God criyng, haue mercy vpon me ô Lord, that he may stretche foorth his right hand to re­presse thy choller. I meane, that we should inuoke the assistance of God, when we perceaue our selues shaken with choler; imitating the Apostles, when they were tossed with winds and tempest vpon the waters, for he wil cō ­mād our passiōs to cease, & cause a quiet calme to ensew. But I admonishe thee, that alway the praier which thou makest against this passiō of āger which thē pos­sesseth & presseth thee, be exercised mee­klie, leasurly, & calmely, not violētly, ha­stely, or turbulētly, & this self same rule must be obserued in all remedies which are applied against this passiō of anger.

8. Thirdly, so soone as thou percea­uest, that thou hast done some act of choler, repare and redresse the fault im­mediatly, with another contrarie act of mildnes, exercised promptly and sweetly towards the same person, against who­me thou wast angrie. For as it is a so­ueraigne remedie against liyng, to vn­say it, and goe back from the lie, euen [Page 292] in the verie place where thou toldest it: so is it an excellent salue against anger, to applie sodainly, and out of hand, a contrarie act of mildnes and courtesie: for greene wounds (they say) are easiest to be cured.

9. Fourthely, when thou art at repo­se and tranquillitie, and whithout any occasion or subiect of choler, make great store and prouision (as they say) of meeknes, and gentlenes, speaking all thy words, and working al thy actions, and vsing all thy behaueour, in the swee­test, softest, and mildest manner thou canst: calling to mind that the spouse in the canticles, had hunnie, not only in her lippes, but also vnder her tongue, that is in her brest: nor hunnie only, but milk too; for so we must not only haue sweete and courteous wordes to our neighbour, but they must proceed also from the bottom of our hart. Neither must we haue this [...]-sweet mild­nes, which is pleasaunt and odoriferous, in our conuersation with strangers, & forreners abroade, but with all the milk sweet behaueour, and fatherly, or brotherly cariage also within doores, [Page 293] amongst our domesticall frinds, and neere neighbours: wherin they are grea­tly to seek, who in the street be like Angels, and within theire house, seeme almost deuils.

Of sweetnes and gentlenes towardes our selues. CHAPTER 9.

1. ONE of the best exercises of meeknes, is that which we may practize towards our owne sel­ues: neuer despightfully fretting against our owne imperfections. For though reason command, that we should be di­spleased & sorrie when we committ any faults, yet we must allway eschew all melancholie, despightfull, & bitter dis­pleasure: wherin manie do egregiously offend, who stirred vp a litle to choler and anger, are angrie that they be an­grie, & frett & chafe, to see themselues chafe; for by this manner of procee­ding, their hart is (as a man may say) soaked in choler; and though it seemes to them, that the second anger, con­quers and bannishes away the first, [Page 294] yet notwithstanding it openeth an en­trance and a passage, for a new choler at the first occasion that shalbe offered. Besides that these angers, frettings, and bitter chafing against our selues, tend to pride, and haue no other roote nor beginninge but self loue, which trou­bleth and vnquieteth the soule to see it self vnperfect.

2. The dislike then which we must haue of our faults, must be a sober, quiet and setled dislike. For as a iudge, puni­sheth much better any malefactour, when he giueth sentence, his reason being vntroubled with passion, and his spirit in calme, then yf he should pro­nounce the sentence with a passionate minde, because iudginge in passion, he chastiseth not the faults according as they are, but according as he himself is: so we correct our selues much better, by calme & setled repentance, then by sower, fretting, and fuming dislike; for repentance done with violence of pas­sion, is neuer according to the heaui­nesse of our fault, but according to the sway of our inclinations. For example, he that much affecteth chastitie, will [Page 295] vex himself with an vnspeakeable bitter­nesse, for the least fault that he should committ against it: and will but laugh at a grosse sclander and detraction pro­ceeding from him. On the other side, he that hateth the sinne of detraction, will afflict his soule for murmuring a litle, and make no reckening of a grieuous fault cōmitted against chastitie: & so of others. And this springeth frō no other fountaine, thē that they iudge not their conscience by reason, but by passion.

3. Beleeue me Philotheus, as the good aduises of a father, giuen sweetly & har­tely to his child, haue farre more opera­tion to correct him, thē choler & indi­gnatiō: so whē our soule shal haue done any fault, yf we reprehēd it with a quiet & sweet reprehensiō, more by cōpassiō, thē by passiō, & gētlie encouraging our selues to amendment, the repentance conceaued thervpon, will penetrate far­ther, and sinck deeper in vs, then a frett­full, angrie and storming repentance.

4. For my part, yf (for example) I had a great affection and desire, not to fall into the sinne of vaine-glorie, and yet notwithstanding should haue [Page 296] fallen grieuously into the self same vice: I would not reprehend my soule in this manner: Art thou not a miserable and abominable caytife, that after so many resolutions, hast suffered thy self to be caried after this vanitie? fie for shame, lift not vp thy eyes to heauen, blind, impudent, traitorous, and disloyall to thy God; and such like chafing fumes of reprehension; but I would reprehend it rather with reason, and compassiuely in this sort. Ah my poore hart, we are now fallen into the ditche, which we, had so resolutely determined to escape. Well, let vs out againe, and forsake it heerafter for euer. Let vs yet againe call vpon the mercie of God, and trust in it, and hope that he will louingly assist vs, to make vs hence forward more con­stant, and so let vs turne into the plaine way of humilitie. Courage my soule, from this day we will stand vpon our watch and garde, God will ayde vs, we shall prosper by his grace. And vpō this gentle reprehension, would I build a sound and firme resolution, neuer to fall againe into that fault, vsing to that end, the meanes conuenient, and especially [Page 297] the aduice of my directour.

5. But yf notwithstanding; one finds, that his hart is not sufficientlie moued with this sweet manner of reprehensiō: he may reproache the fault to him self, & check his soule somwhat roughly, to raise a virtuous shame in it: prouided that after he hath thus roundely rated & reuiled his hart, he end sweetly and meekly, concluding all his chiding, with a mild quiet confidence in God, imita­ting that great penitent, who seeing his soule afflicted, eased it in this manner: Why art thou sad, ô my soule, and why doest thou trouble me? Hope in God, for I will cōfesse vnto him, the saueing health of my coun­tenance, and my God.

6. Raise vp againe thy hart therfore frō his fall, with all reposed quiet, hum­ble thy self hartelie before God, ack­nowledginge thine owne miserie, not much wondring at thy fall; for it is not straunge, that weakenes should be fee­ble, or miserie wretched. Yet for all that, detest from thy hart, that thou hast so often offended God, and with cheerfull courage, and humble confidence in his mercie, returne to the path of virtue [Page 298] from which thou hast swarued.

That we must handle our affaires with diligence, but not with too much eagrenes, and solicitude. CHAPTER 10.

1. THE care & diligence which we ought to haue in our busines, are things much different from sollicitude, carke, and ouermuch ear­nestnes. The Angels haue care of our saluatiō, & do procure it diligently: but for all that they take no thought, they are not solicitous therfore, for care and diligence in our cause belonge to their charitie: solicitous, & vexinge thoughts, be cleane contrarie to their felicitie: for care & diligēce may be accōpanied with tran quillitie & peace of mind, but soli­citude is allways ioyned with trouble of spirit.

2. Be carefull then and diligent in all thy affaires, for since God hath cōmēded them to thy truste and charge, it is his will that thou take care of them: but yf it be possible, be not solicitous, take no thought for them, vndertake them not with anxietie, and too much feruour: [Page 299] force not thy self in the matter, for all violent impressions trouble the iudge­ment and blind reason, and hinder vs from doing well, that which we desire to do ouer earnestly.

3. When our Lord reprehēded S. Mar­tha, he sayd: Martha, Martha, thou art solici­tous, and troublest thy self about, many things. Where thou seest, yf she had been onely carefull, she had not been troubled, but because she was full of solicitous thou­ghts, & vnquietnesse, she vexed & trou­bled her self, and for that cause did our Lord reprehend her. Riuers which glide smoothely through the dale, beare great boates, & rich merchandise, & the raine which falleth gentlie in the champion countrie, maketh the ground to abound in grasse & corne; but brookes & rilles, which runne with violent downe-falles, or great ouerflowings, ruine the borde­ring villages, and are vnprofitable for traffique; as likewise tempestuous and stormie shewers, spoile both fields and meadowes: Neuer came work to be well donne that was folowed with too much earnestnes. We must dispatche with leasure, and soft fire, maketh sweet [Page 300] malt (as the old prouerbe sayth:) he that maketh too much hast, (sayth Salomon) is in danger of stumbling, or hurting his feet: we ende our affai­res soone enough, when we end them well enough. Droanes make more hun­nie then Bees, and flie much more hastelie, but they make combes onely and not honny: so they that take ex­cessiue thought, and goe about their businesse with ouermuch solicitude, or­dinarilie, neither do much, nor well.

4. Flies disquiet vs not by their strength, but by their number: and great affaires doe not vexe vs so much, as a nomber of affaires of litle valewe; what soeuer affaires then befall thee, receaue them contentedly, with meekenes, and repose of spirit, & endeuour to dispatch thē by due order, one after another, for yf thou striue to doe them all at once, the ouermuch labour will tyre & werie thee, & make thee grone vnder the bur­then, & disable thee from bringing any thing to good end.

5. In all thy businesse, repose thy self wholly vpō Gods prouidence, by whose onely meanes thy designements will [Page 301] growe to a good effect: yet neuerthelesse for thyne owne part be diligēt, & do thy endeauour faire and softly, cooperating with Gods help: & thus doing, beleeue what successe so euer folowes thy endea­uour, is most profitable for thee (yf thou placest thy confidence in God as thou shouldest) how euer it seeme good or bad, according to thy owne particular iudgemēt. Like as litle childrē who with one hād hold fast by their father, & with the other gather strawberries or prim­roses alōg the hedges: so whilst thou ma­nagest the affaires of this worlde with one hand, lay hould with the other vpon the prouidence of thy heauenly Father: turning thy self toward him frō time to time, to see yf thy husbādrie and labours be pleasaunt vnto him. And take heede aboue all things, that thou let not goe his hand, or become vnmindfull of his protection: for so thou wilt not be able to goe one only step without falling to groūd. My meaning is (my Philotheus) that amidst thy affaires, & cōmon occu­pations, which require not so earnest at­tentiō, thou thinck vpō God more then vpon thy affaires: and when thy affaires [Page 302] be of so great importāce, that to be well done, they require thy whole attention, then also oftentimes thou must reflect vpon God; And as they that saile vpon the sea, to arriue at the desired coast, looke more often vp to heauen, then downe vpon the sea where they saile: doe thou so, and God will work with thee, in thee, and for thee, and all thy la­bours shalbe secōded with cōsolations.

Of Obedience. CHAPTER 11.

1. CHARITIE onelie placeth vs in the hight of perfection, but obedience, chastitie, and pouer­tie are three excellent instruments to attaine vnto it. Obedience consecrateth our soule, chastitie dedicateth our bo­die, pouertie applieth our goods & sub­stance, to the loue, & seruice of almigh­tie God. These be the three branches of the spirituall crosse, which euerie man must beare, all three grounded vpō the fourth vnderbraunche, which is humili­tie. I will not say anie thing of these three virtues as they are vowed solem­nelie, [Page 303] for so they appertaine onelie to religious persons: nor as they are pro­fessed by a simple vowe, for though al­wayes a vowe giueth a peculiar valew and metit vnto all virtues, yet for the purpose which heere we pretend, it is not necessarie they should be vowed, so that they be well obserued. When they are vowed solemnelie, they place a man in state of perfection, but to come to perfection it self, it sufficeth that they be well obserued: for there is great diffe­rence betwixt the state of perfection, & perfectiō it self; all bishops & religious are in the state of perfection, and yet all attaine not to perfection, as we see but too too often. Let vs endeuour then, Philotheus, to practise well these three virtues, euerie one of vs according to our vocation: for though they promo­te vs not to the state of perfection, they will bring vs to perfection it self, and we all haue obligation to practise the­se virtues, though not all after one fashion.

2. There are two sorts of obediēce the one necessarie: the other voluntarie. By necessarie obediēce, thou must obey thy [Page 304] ecclesiasticall superiours, as the Pope, Archbishops, Bishops, Pastours, and such as are their deputies: thou must obey thy ciuil superiours, to wit, thy Prince, and his magistrats, which he hath established ouer thy countrie: and finally, thou must obey thy dome­sticall superiours, father and mother, maister and mistresse. This obedience is called necessarie, because no man can exempt him selfe, from the debt and dutie of obeying the aforesayd supe­riours, whome God hath placed in au­thoritie, to command and gouerne, eache one according to the charge ap­pointed vnto him ouer vs. Doe then that which they commaund, and that is necessarie obedience: but to doe this more perfectly, their counsailes also, must be followed & their inclinations and desires, so farre as charitie and pru­dence will permitte thee. Obey them, when they command such things as are agreeable to thine owne will, as to eat, to recreate thy self: for though it seeme no great virtue to obey in these occa­sions, yet would it be a great vice to disobey in them. Obey them when they [Page 305] command things that are indifferent in them selues, or in thy iudgement, as to weare this, or that hab it, to goe this way, or that way, to sing, or to be silēt: and it wilbe verie commendable obe­dience. Obey them when they com­mand hard, displeasaunt, and vneasie things: and it wilbe perfect obedience.

3. Obey I say sweetly without replie, promptly without delaye, cheerfullie without repining, and aboue all, obey louingly, for loue of him, who for our loue made him self obedient, euen to the death of the crosse, and who (as S. Bernard sayth) chose rather to lose his life, then to lose obedience.

4. To learne to obey easilie thy su­periours, accustome thy self to con­descend and folow the will of thy equalls, giuing place to their opinions, when they are nor vicious, or naughtie, without all strife wrangling or conten­tion, accommodate thy self willingly to the desires of thy inferiours, so farre as reason may permitte, and neuer exer­cise any imperious commands ouer them, so long as they be good and virtuous.

5. It is a great deceit and errour in vs, to imagin that we would obey more easilie, if we were religious, when we find our selues rebellious to such as God hath placed ouer vs.

6. We call that obedience volunta­rie, wher vnto we bind and oblige our selues by our owne choice, and electiō, and which is not imposed vpon vs by anie other. Men choose not ordinarilie their prince, their bishop, their father or mother, nor manie times men their wiues, nor woemen their husbands: but they choose their ghostlie father, and spirituall directour. Yf then thou choose by vow to obey, (as we sayd abo­ue, that the holie mother Theresa, besi­des her obedience solemnelie vowed to the superiour of her order, bound her self by a simple vowe to obey father Gratian) or if without a vowe thou de­dicate thy self to the obedience of so­me guide and gouernour, yet allways is this obedience termed voluntarie, be­cause it is grounded, vpon our free will, and depends vpon our owne ele­ction.

7. We must obey all our superiours, [Page 307] but euerie one in that, in which he hath charge ouer vs: as in that which belon­geth to ciuil policie, and publique af­faires, we must obey our prince; our prelats in that which belongeth to ec­clesiasticall matters; our father, our hus­band, & our maister in domestical busi­nesse; and our ghostlie father or spiri­tuall directour, in the peculiar guidan­ce of our conscience, and soule.

8. Cause thy ghostlie father, to order dispose, and impose, all the actions of pietie, which thou shouldest exerci­se, for so they wilbe more excellent, clothed with a double beautie and me­rit; the one taken from them selues, be­cause they are good of their owne na­ture and substance; the other taken frō thy obedience to thy directour, in vir­tue wherof thou doest performe them. Happie are the obedient, for God will neuer suffer them to goe astraye.

Of the necessity of Chastitie. CHAPTER 12.

1. CHastitie is the lillie of virtues; it maketh mē equall to Angels. Nothing is beautifull but by [Page 308] puritie: and the puritie of men, is chastitie. Chastitie is called honestie, and the profession therof, honour: it is named, integritie; and the contrarie therof, corruption. In few words, chastitie hath this excellencie a part, to be iointly, the beautifull and louely virtue of soule and bodie.

2. It is neuer lawfull to receaue any vnchast delight from our bodies in any sort whatsoeuer, but onely in lawfull marriage: for the sanctitie of that sa­crement by iust recompence, repaireth the losse we receaue in that kind of pleasure. And yet euen in marriage, the honestie of the intention must allways be kept, that though there be some in­decencie in the delight taken, yet there be always puritie and cleannes, in the intention and will that receaueth it. The chast hart, is like the mother­pearle, which receaueth no drop of brackish water, but onely the deaw that falleth from heauen: and a chast hart admitteth no pleasure, but onelie in marriage, which is ordained from heauen: Excepting onelie the lawfull delight of marriage, it is not lawfull so [Page 309] much as in thought, to entertaine vo­luntarilie, and deliberatlie, any vo­luptuous or carnall delight.

3. The first degree of this virtue, may be (my Philotheus) to take heed of in­tertaining any kind of pleasure, that is prohibited, or forbidden; as all those, are, which are receaued out of marria­ge; and those likewise which are taken in marriage, but not according to the rule of marriage. For the second degree, refraine as much as is possible, from all vnprofitable and superfluous delights, although lawfull, and permitted. For the third degree, fix not thy affection vpon the pleasures and delights ordai­ned and commanded in marriage it self, for though it be lawfull to vse those de­lights, which are necessarie for the end, and institution of matrimonie, yet for all that, we must neuer fix our hart thervpon.

4. All persons and estates need this virtue. They that be in widowhood, must haue a courageous and strong chastitie, to auoide not onlie the pre­sent or future obiects, and occasions of delights, but to resist the imagination [Page 310] which lawfull pleasures, receaued in marriage in former times, may breed in their remembrance, their minds ther­fore being more subiect to vncleane allurements, and vnchast impressions. For which cause S. Augustin admireth the puritie of his deere frind Alypius, who had whollie despised and forgetten the pleasures of the fleshe, though tasted by him sometimes in his youth. And trulie we see, that when fruites are not yet tainted with rottennesse, they may be wel preserued, some in straw, some in sand, & some in their owne lea­ues: but being once tainted with a litle rotte, it is almost impossible to preserue them long, but by confiting or conser­uing them in honnie and sugar. Euen so chastitie which is not yet violated, may manie wayes be garded and kept whole, and vntouched: but being once corrupted, though but a litle, can not be preserued, but by an excellent deuo­tion, which (as I haue oft repeated) is the honnie and sugar of the mind.

5. Virgins haue need of a merueilous simple and tender chastitie, not suffring the touch of anie thing contrarie to [Page 311] their cleannes, but to bannisbe without all delay from their verie thoughts, all sorts of curious conceipts, repre­sentations, or remembrances of carnall pleasures: which indeed, deserue not that men should desire them, since Asses, and swine be more capable of them, then men. Lett these pure and louely-cleane soules therfore, neuer doubt, but that chastitie is incompara­blie better, more delightfull, & more honourable, then anie pleasure cōtrarie thervnto. For, as great Saint Hierom sayth, the deuill endeuoureth violent­lie, to force virgins to desire the triall of these fleshlie pleasures, presenting and painting them to their thoughts, infinitlie more pleasaunt and delicious, then indeed they are: which manie ti­mes troubleth them much, esteeming (as this Saint sayth) that to be mo­re sweet, which they haue not as yet tasted. For as the litle Butterflie, seeing the flame of a candle, hone­reth curiouslie about it, to proue whether it be as sweete, as it is faire; and forced with this fantasie, ceaseth not, till she burne her selfe to death

[...]

[...] ching one another, without danger of breaking; and like fruicts, which be they neuer so sound and well-seasoned, yet by touching one another, are tain­ted with rottennesse. Water it self in a vessel, be it neuer so fresh, being once touched by any beast, cannot long time be preserued in his freshnes. Neuer suffer any man (ô Philothee) to touch thee vnciuilly, eyther for myrthe, or for fa­uour: for though peraduenture chaste­tie may be preserued in those actions, that are more of lightnes then of ma­lice: yet the puritie and flower of cha­stitie, receaueth some detriment & losse by them. But to suffer thy self to be touched dishonestly by any, is the vtter ruine and ouerthrow of chastitie.

3. Chastitie dependeth of the soule as of her originall roote, and respe­cteth the bodie, as the matter about which she worketh. This is the cause that she may leese her self by all the ex­teriour sences of the bodie, and by the temptations and desires of the soule. It is lasciuiousnesse to behold, to heare, to speak, to smell, or touch any disho­nest thing, when the soule obserueth it, [Page 317] dallieth in it, and taketh delight and pleasure therin. Saint Paul in one word sayth: Let not fornication be so much as once named amongst you. The Bees not only refuse to touch any carrion, but hate extremly, and therfore flie hastely, from all vnsauourie smells proceeding from it. The sacred spouse in the Canticles is sayd, to haue her hands full of myrre that it droppeth downe from her fin­gers, and myrre preserueth from corru­ption; her lippes are coloured with a blushing vermillion, betokening mo­destie and shamefastnes in words; Her eyes are of Doues, for their puritie; she weareth golden earings, as neuer daring to heare of any vncleannesse; her nose is cōpared to the cedars of Libanus, that are incorruptible: such ought to be the soule of Christs seruant, chast, honest, cleane in hands, lippes, eyes, eares, and all her bodie.

4. To this purpose will I tell thee what the ancient father Iohn Cassian reporteth, as from the mouth of Sainct Basil the great: who speaking of him selfe, sayde: I know not what belongeth to wemen, yet am I not a Virgin. For [Page 318] truly chastitie may be lost as manie wayes, as there be kindes of lasciuious­nesse, and fleshlie delights: which ac­cording as they are great or litle, so dee they weaken, wound, or kill it out right. There are certaine particular frindships, and vndiscreet, foolish, sensuall passions, which to speak pro­perlie, do not violate and corrupt cha­stitie, but yet do greatlie weaken it, and staine the beautifull white of this pure virtue. There are other familiari­ties and passionate frindships, not one­lie indiscreet, but vitious; not onelie fond, but dishonest with all; not onely sensuall, but carnal: and by these cha­stitie is at least sorelie hurt, and woun­ded: I say at the least wounded, because it dieth and perisheth altogether, when these dalliances and wanton actions, do cause in the flesh the vttermost ef­fect of voluptuous delight: for then it is lost more vildly, wickedlie, and detestablie, then when it is corrupted by fornication, by adulterie, by incest; since these latter kindes of dishonestie, are onlie sinnes; but the former (as Ter­tualliā sayth in his booke of chastitie, or [Page 319] shamfastnesse) are certaine monsters of iniquitie. Now neither Cassiā, nor I my self thihck, that S. Basils words are to be vnderstood of any such filthie disorder, when he sayd of him self, that he was no virgin: but he sayd so onelie for vnchast & voluptuous thoughts, which though they defiled not his bodie, yet did they contaminat his soule, of the puritie and chastnes wherof, all generous and no­ble spirits are exceeding iealous.

5. Haunt not the companie of vn­chast persons, principallie, if withall they be shamelesse, and impudent, as for the most part they be. For as the hee Goates, licking the sweete Almond trees with their tongues, do make them degenerate into bitter Almonds: so these wanton soules, infected with the stinche of fleshlie lusts, do scarce speak to anie of either sex, but they make them in some sort, fall from the clean­nesse of their chastitie: they beare poison in theire eyes, and in theire breath like Basiliskes. But contrari­wise, keep companie with chast & vir­tuous people: meditate & read oftē ho­ly things: for the word of God is chast, [Page 320] and maketh them chast, that delight therin: which made Dauid compare it to the Topace, a pretious stone, whose propertie, is to asswage the ardour of concupiscence.

6. Keepe thy selfe allways neere and close to Iesus Christ crucified: spiri­tuallie by meditation: and reallie by ho­lie communion: for as they that lie vpon the herbe Agnus castus, become them selues chast: so thou resting and reposing thy hart in, and vpon God, (who is the true chast and immaculate lambe) thou shalt soone perceaue thy soule cleansed from all kind of lasci­uiousnesse.

Of pouertitie of Spirit, to be obserued in riches. CHAP. 14.

1. BLESSED are the poore in Spi­rit, for theirs is the Kingdom of heauen: accursed then be the ri­che in spirit, for the miserie of hell is for them; I call him rich in spirit, who hath riches in his spirit, or rather hath his spirit whollie busied and buried in [Page 321] his riches. The Alcyons make their nests no bigger then the palme of a hād, and leaue but one litle hole in them, on the vpper side: then do they place them vpon the edge of the sea-shore, and fra­me it so firme and sound in all parts, that when the waues doe chance to hoise them selues vp, yet the water can neuer get in, but they remaine floting aboue the waues; hauing allways as it were, the vpper hand of the sea, euen in the mid­dest of the sea. Thy hart (deare Philo­theus) must be in the self same manner, open onlie to heauen-ward, and impe­netrable, neuer geuing place to riches & transitorie goods; with which if thou chaunce to abound, yet keep thy hart free from doating on them with too much affection: let it in the middest of great wealth, be alway maister of thy wealth, aboue thy riches, not beneath, franck and free out of them, not entan­gled in them. No, no, lodge not this ce­lestiall spirit of thine, in these base earth­lie goods, let it be alwayes ouer them, neuer in them.

2. There is great difference betwixt hauing poison, and being poisoned. [Page 322] Al Apothecaries almost, haue poison to vse at diuers occasions, but they are not for all that empoisoned; because they haue not poison in their bodies, but in their shoppes. Euen so thou mayst haue riches, without being em­poisoned at all with them: if thou keep them in thy bagges, or in thy house, and not in thy hart. To be riche in deed, and poore in thought, and desire, is the greatest felicitie of a Christian: for he hath by that meanes, the com­moditie of riches for this world, and the merit of pouertie, for the world to come.

3. Ah Philotheus, no man will con­fesse him self to be couetous, euerie one contemneth in words that basenes and vilenes of hart: they lay their ex­cuse vpon the great charge of children which vrgeth them; vpon the rule of wisdome, which requireth, that men should diligentlie lay vp meanes to liue; they neuer haue too much, some necessities are always found out to gett more. Nay the most coue­tous wretch of all, will not onelie not confesse himself to be such, but [Page 323] thincketh in his conscience he is not couetous. No, forsooth, is he not; for couetousnes is a monstruous ague, which maketh it self so much more insensible, by how much more vio­lent and burning it is. Moyses saw that holie fire, which burned in the bush, and yet consumed it not at all: but this profane fire, consumeth and deuoureth the couetous person, and yet burneth him not; nay in the mid­dest of his heates, and ardour, he boa­steth of the coolest refreshing ayer that hart could wishe, and estee­meth his insatiable and vnquencheable drought, to be a naturall and delecta­ble thirst.

4. Yf thou desire long, ardentlie, and vnquietlie the riches which thou hast not, it is but a iest to say, that thou desirest not to come by them vnlawfullie, neither doest thou lea­ue to be couetous for all that. He that desireth a long time, with burning thirst, and vnquiet wishes, to drinck, albeit he desire cold water onlie, yet he giueth sufficient witnesse that he is

[...]

content which we shew for the losse.

8. Desire not then with a full deli­berate, and earnest desire, the wealth and commoditie, which thou hast not: and setle not thy hart vpon that which alreadie thou hast; discomfort not thy self for the losses which befall thee: and then thou shalt haue some reason to say and beleeue, that being rich in effect, thou art not withstanding poore in affection; that thou art in deed poore in spirit, and consequently, that the kingdom of heauen appertaineth vn­to thee.

How to practise true and reall pouerty, remayning not withstanding reallie riche. CHAPTER 15.

1. THE painter Parrhasius, repre­sented in his pictures, the peo­ple of Athens by a most wittie inuention, painting out their diuerse and variable humours, cholerick, vn­iust, vnconstant, vncourteous, merci­full, [Page 327] high-minded, proude, humble, and cowardly: and all this together. But I (my deare Philotheus, would doe mo­re then all this, for I would put into thy hart riches and pouertie both at once, a great care, and a great contempt, of temporall affaires.

2. Take much more care to make thy temporall goods profitable, and gainfull, then worldly men doe. Tell me, the gardiners of great princes, are they not more curious, and diligent to deck and trimme vp the gardens they haue commended to them in charge, then yf they were their owne in pro­prietie? And what is the reason therof? because without dout they consider those gardens, as Kinges and Princes gardens, vnto whome they desire to make themselues acceptable, by their good seruice. My Philotheus, the wealth and possessions which we haue, are none of ours, God hath committed them vnto our charge to cultiuate them, and his will is, that we make them profitable and gainfull: and therfore we doe him good seruice when we take care of them. But this [Page 328] care must be in vs greater, & constan­ter then worldlings haue of their ri­ches. For their labours are for the loue of them selues, and ours must be for the loue of God. Now as self-loue is violent, trouble some, and hastie; so the care that we take to satisfie this self-loue, is full of vexation, of an­guishe, and disquiet; And as the loue of God is sweet, peaceable, and quiet: so the care which proceedeth from it, although it be euen about worldly goods, is both amiable, sweet, and gra­cious. Let vs then haue this gracious care of preseruing, yea and of en­creasing our temporall commodities, whensoeuer any iust occasion shall present it selfe, and so farre foorth, as our estate and condition requireth: for God will that we doe so, for the loue of him.

3. But take heed that self loue decea­ue thee not, for some-time it counter­faiteth so craftilie the loue of God, that thou wouldst verilie thinck it were the same. Now that it deceaue thee not; and that this care of thy tempo­ral goods, turne not into secret auarice, [Page 329] ouer and aboue that which I sayd in the chapter going before, we must very of­ten practize, a true, reall, and actuall pouertie, in the middest of all the riches and wealth, that God hath giuen vs.

4. Allwayes then abādon some part of thy goods, bestowing it vpon the poore with a willing hart, for to giue away that which one hath, is to impouerish him self willing lie, and the more one giueth, the more poore he becometh. True it is that God will pay it & rēder it all againe, not only in the next world, but euen in this present life; (for nothing so much prospereth our tēporall estate, as almes­giuing) but notwithstāding, vntill such time as God doth restore & repay that which thou hast thus giuē, thou remai­nest by so much poorer in deed thē thou wast. O how holy & rich is that pouer­tie, which cometh by almes-deeds?

5. Loue poore folk, & pouertie, for so shalt thou become poore in deed, becau­se as the holy scripture teaceth, we are made like the things which we loue. Loue makes louers felowes, & equalls; who is weak (sayth S. Paul) with whome I am not weake? he might haue said likewise: who [Page 330] is poore, with whome I am not poore? for loue made him like those whome he loued. Yf then thou loue the poore frō thy hart, thou shalt be trulie partaker of their pouertie, & become as poore, as they. But yf thou loue the poore, wit­nesse this thy loue, by going oftēn amōg them: be glad to see them in thine owne house, and visit them in theirs; keep them companie willingly, reioyce that they approache nighthee in the church, in the street, and els where. Be poore in talking, speaking, and conuersing, cour­teouslie amonge them: but be riche­handed, giuing them liberallie of thy goods, as hauing more abundance.

6. Wilt thou goe one steppe farther, my Philotheus, cōtent not thy self to be poore, but procure to be poorer thē the poore thēselues. And how may that be? The seruant is inferiour to his maister: be thou then a seruant of the poore: goe and attend on them in their beds, when they are sick, I say attend on them, and serue them with thine owne hands: be their cooke thy self, and at thine owne expences, be their landresse, and blea­cher of their linnen. O Philotheus, this [Page 331] māner of seruice, is more glorious then a kingdome. I cannot sufficiently ad­mire the ardent affection, with which this councell was put in practize by S. Lewes, one of the greatest kings vnder the sonne, & I meane, one oft the grea­test in all kind of greatnes & excellēce. He waited oft times at the table of the poore, whome he nourished, & caused three poore men almost euerie day, to dine at his owne table, & eat him self often the reliques of their potage, with such a loue as the like hath not beene seene. When he visited the hospitalls of sick folk; (which he did verie often) he serued them ordinarilie, which had the most horrible and loathsome diseases, as lazers, cankers, and such like: and performed all this seruice vnto them bare-headed, and kneeling on the ground, considering and res­pecting in their persons, the Saueour of the world: and cherrishing them with as tender a loue, as any sweete mo­ther could doe her one child. Saint Elisabeth daughter to the king of Hun­gary, often times put her self amongst the poore, and for her recreation, [Page 332] sometimes would apparell her self like a poore woman amongst her ladies, saying vnto them, yf I were poore, thus would I attire my self. O good God (Philotheus) how poore were this Prince and princesse, amidst their royall riches, and how riche were they, in this their admirable pouertie! Blessed be they that be poore in this sort, for vnto them belongeth the kingdome of hea­uen. I was hungry, and you gaue me to eate: I was naked and you clothed me; possesse you the kingdom prepared for you, from the foun­dation of the world: will the king of the poore, and of kings, say at his great doomes day.

7. There is no man but vpon some occasion, one time or other, shall stand in need of some commoditie. Someti­mes comes a guest whome we ought, or would entertaine royallie, and for the present, we haue nothing to receaue him in good sort withall; Sometime our best apparell is in one place, and we our selues in another, where occa­sion requireth, that we should goe bet­ter clothed. It happens another time, that all the wines of our cellars doe [Page 333] worke, and loose their tast: so that there remaine onely lowe, and greene wines, for our owne vse. Another time in a long iourney, we light vpon some cot­tage to lodge in, where all things are lacking; wher there is nether table, nor chaire, nor bed, nor chamber, nor anie to serue vs. To be brief, it is a verie or­dinarie thinge, to stand oft times in need of some necessarie commoditie, be we otherwise neuer so rich; well, this is to be poore in effect, and in verie deed, when we lack these things. Phi­lotheus, reioice in such occasions, and accept them with all thy hart, and suffer them cheerfully, for Gods loue.

8. When some inconuenience be­falles that empouerisheth thee, ether of a great deale or of a litle, as tempest, fire, inundations, dearth, theeues, processe, persecution, or the like, ô then Philo­theus is the time indeed, to practize po­uertie of spirit, receauing with mildnes this losse & diminishing of our wealth, and accommodating our selues, patien­tly and constantly, to this vnexpected empouerishement. Esau presented him selfe to his father, with his hands all [Page 334] hairie, and so did Iacob likewise: but because the haire that couered Iacobs hands, stuck not to his owne skin, but to his gloues, one might haue taken away the haire from him without hur­ting him: but because the haire of Esaus hands, grew vpon his owne skinne, and not vpon his gloues, being hairie by nature, he that would haue endeuoured to pull of his haire, should haue put him to paine and torment, and he would ha­ue striued and sweat to defend him self from fleaing. When our riches cleaue to our verie soule, if a tempest, if thee­ues, if a catch pole do but snatch anie peece from vs, what complaints, what stirres, what impatience presently shew we? But when our riches cleaue but onely to the care that God would haue vs take, and do not stick to our hart, if they fleece vs, and despoile vs of them, we do not fall beside our selues ther­fore, nor loose the quiet and tranquilli­tie of mind. This is the difference be­twixt beasts, and men as touching their clothes: for beasts clothes, stick to their fleshe, and mens apparel, are only cast about them, so that they may be [Page 335] put of and one at their pleasure, without anie paine or inconuenience.

How to practize richnes of Spirit, in reall pouertie. CHAPTER 16.

1. BVT if thou chance to be verilie poore in deed, Philotheus, O God, be then poore likewise in spirit: make a virtue of necessitie, and value this precious pearle of po­uertie at the high rate and estimation which it deserueth. The lustre therof is not discouered perfectlie in this world, and yet neuer the lesse it is ex­ceeding rich and beautifull.

2. Be patient, because thou art in good companie. Our Lord, and our Ladie, the Apostles, so manie Saincts, both men, and wemen, haue been ex­ceeding poore, though they had mea­nes to be riche, yet they contem­ned riches. How manie great world­linges haue there been, and are, who euen with mightie contradictions and [Page 336] resistance of their frinds, haue endeuo­ued, and doe intend with incompara­ble care, to find out holie pouertie, and enioy her companie in cloisters and hospitalls? Witnesse S. Alexis, holy Pau­la, holy Paulinus, S. Angela, and a thousand others; And behold heere, Philotheus, holie pouertie more fauou­rable to thee then to them, she presen­reth her self vnto thee of her owne ac­cord; thou hast mett with her, without searching painfully after her: embrace her then as a deare frind of Iesus Christ, who was borne, who liued, and died in pouertie, pouertie was his nurse, and his hostesse all his life.

3. Thy pouertie Philotheus, hath two great priuiledges, by which she can make thee riche in merits and de­sarts. The first is, that she came not vn­to thee at thy owne inuiting, or ele­ction, but by the only will and choice of God, who made thee poore, without any concourse of thy owne will. That then, which we receaue purely from Gods holy will, is all way most accep­table vnto him, prouided that we recea­ue it cheerfully, and for loue and reue­rence [Page 337] of his holy will; where there is least of our owne will, there is most of Gods pleasure: the simple and pure acceptance of Gods will, maketh pa­tience most excellent, and merito­rious.

4. The second priuiledge of thy po­uertie is, that it is a pouertie poore in deed, and in good earnest. Pouertie that is commended, cherrished, estee­med, succoured, assisted, & is not alto­gether poore, it hath yet some riches in it. But pouertie which is despised, eschewed, reuiled, reproached, and abandoned of all, is pouertie in dead. Well such is ordinarilie the pouertie of worldlie men, for because they are not poore by their owne choice, but by meer necessitie, men make no great ac­count of their pouertie, and making no great account of it, their pouertie is poorer then the pouertie of religious men: notwithstanding that religious pouertie, hath a verie great excellen­cie, and much more recommendab [...] by reason of the vowe and holie in [...] ­ion, for which it was chosen.

5. Complaine not then (my deare [Page 338] Philotheus) of thy pouertie. For we cōplaine not, but of that which displea­seth vs: and yf pouertie displease thee, thou art no more poore in spirit, but riche in affection.

6. Be not discōforted, that then thou art not so well souccoured and assisted, as is meete and requisite, for in this wāt consisteth the excellence of pouer­tie. To haue a desire to be poore in­deed, and yet not willinge to haue in­commoditie, is an ouer-great ambi­tion: for that were to be willing, to haue the honour of pouertie, and the commoditie of riches.

7. Be not ashamed to be poore, or to aske almes for Gods sake. Receaue with humilitie that, which shalbe giuen thee, and take the denially meekly and quietlie. Remember often the voyage, which our Ladie made into Egypte, to carie thether her deere childe, and how much contempte, pouertie, and mise­rie she was driuen to suffer. If thou liue thus, thou shalt be most riche amidest thy pouertie.

Of frindship: and first of fond, and fruictlesse frindship. CHAPTER 17.

1. LOVE hath the first and chiefe place among all the passions of the soule: it is the king of all the motions of the hart, it changeth all the other into it self, and maketh vs alltoge­ther such, as is the thing which we loue: take heed then, O Philotheus, that thou loue no bad thing, for then thou thy self wilt become altogether bad. Now of all loue, frindship is the most dāgerous, be­cause other loue may be built vpon cō ­munication, hardly can one haue frind­ship with another, without participa­ting of his qualities and conditions.

2. All loue is not amitie or frindship for one may loue, and not be beloued, and thē is there loue, and not frindship: because frindshippe, is a mutuall loue, and yf the loue be not mutuall, it is nor, frindshippe. Neither is it enough that it be mutuall, but the parties that loue one another, must know and ackno­wledge the affection that is betweene them: for yf they know it not, they [Page 340] haue loue one to the other, but not frindshippe. There must be also some sort of communication betwene them, for that is the ground of amitie: and according to the diuersitie of commu­nications, frindshippe also is diuerse: & communications are diuerse, according to the diuersitie of goods which they do mutually cōmunicate: yf they be false, vaine, and forged goods, then is the frindshippe false and forged: yf they be good indeed, thē is the frindshippe true; and the more excellent the goods com­municated be, the more excellent is the frindshippe. The honnie is best, that is gathered frō the blossoms of the sweetest and excellentest floures: and as there is honie in Heraclea a Prouince of Pōtus, which is poisonous, and maketh them sencelesse that tast of it, because it is gathered from the venemous hearbe Aconitum; which groweth in great abundance in that countrie: euen so frindshipp grounded vpon the cōmuni­cation of false and vitious things, is al­together false and wicked frindshippe.

3. The cōmunication of carnal plea­sures, is a mutuall propension & intice­ment [Page 341] to such delights: which can no more beare the name of frindshippe a­mong men, then the self same cōmuni­catiō of pleasures among asses & horses. And yf there were no other cōmunica­tiō in marriage, there were also no frind­shippe at all: but because beside that cō ­munication of those delights, necessarie for the procreation of children, there is also in the estate of marriage, mutuall & indiuisible cōmunicatiō of life, labour, goods, affectiōs, & of indissoluble faith & loyaltie, therefore is the loue of mar­riage a trew and holy frindshippe.

4. Frindshipp grounded vpō the com­municatiō of sensuall pleasures, is verie grosse, & vnworthie the name of frind­shippe, as also is that which is founded vpon friuolous and vaine virtues, which depend only of the iudgemēt of the sen­ce, I call those pleasures sensuall which principally & immediatly are receaued by the operations & actiōs of the exte­riour sences of the bodie, as is the be­holding of faire beautie, the hearing of sweet voices, touching daintie bodies, & the like. I call friuolous virtues, certaine abilities & vaine qualities, which feeble [Page 342] and ignorant witts call virtues, and per­fections. Harken to the greater part of maidens, women, & young folk, they will not faile to terme such a gentleman wondrons virtuous, and endewed with great perfections, because he danceth well, he playeth well at all games, he goeth decently apparelled, he singeth wel, he discourseth well, he is of a cour­tely behaueour. And iesting wits estee­me him most virtuous amongst them, that is the greatest scoffer. But as al other things which depend on the corporall sences of men, so also these amities, which belong to thē, are rightly termed sensuall, vaine, & friuolous, & deserue rather the name of follie, or fancie, then of frindshipe and amitie. Such are ordi­narilie the amities of yoūg folke, which respect and affect a trimme bearde, faire lock, or goodly tramells of haire, louely lookes, smiling eyes, gay apparell, idle behaueour, & fond pratling: frindships only fitte for the greene age of those louers, whose virtue is but yet penn-fea­thered, & whose iudgemēt is yet in blos­some: & such amities, as they are slightly grounded, so they lightlie passe away, & [Page 343] melt like snow in the sunne.

Of loue, and loue toyes. CHAPTER 18.

1. VVHEN these foolish a­mities passe among per­sons of diuerse sex, with­out pretence of mariage, they be called rightly loue-toyes: for being but certai­ne abortiue, or vntimely images, or ra­ther shadowes of amitie, they deserue not the name of true loue or frindship­pe, for their incōparable vanitie & im­perfection. And yet by them are the harts of men & women engaged, chai­ned, and entangled the one with the other in vaine, vpon foolish affections, founded vpon these friuolous commu­nications, & fond delights, of which but euen now I spake. And although these foolish loues do ordinarilie melt, and turne into carnall actions, and filthie lasciuiousnesse: yet that is not the first designe & intention of the persons be­twixt whome they passe, for then they would no more be loue-toyes, but ma­nifest and detestable leacherie. Some times manie yeares passe, ere any such [Page 344] grosse wickednesse happen betweene them, that are infected with this follie: and no action wilbe committed direct­lie contrarie to bodilie chastitie: the parties onelie contenting them selues to steepe their harts, (as it were) in wishes, desires, sighes, wooing spea­ches, and such like vanities, and all this for sondrie motiues and pretensions.

2. Some haue no other designe then onlie to satisfie theire harts in giuing and taking loue, folowing their amou­rous desires: and these take not much consideration in choice of their loues, but onlie folow the cast of their owne inclination: so that at the first encoun­ter of anie obiect pleasing their hu­mour, neuer examining the inward conditions, or qualities, of the partie, they will out of hand begin this friuo­lous communication of wanton loue, and thrust them selues so farre into those miserable snares, from which af­terward they shall haue much a doe to deliuer them selues. Others suffer thē selues to walke that trade of vanitie, esteeming it no small glorie, to take & linck harts together by loue: and these [Page 345] persons, making election of their loue for glories sake, set vp their snares, and spread their sayles, in great, eminent, rare, and illustrious places. Others are caried away both by theire amourous inclination, and vaine glorie iointlie: for though theire hart is all together inclined to loue, yet will they not talke of it, without some aduātage of glorie. These amities are all naught, foolish, & vaine: naught, because they end and die at length in the sinne of the flesh, and steale away the noble passion of loue, and consequentlie, the hart from God, from the maried wife, & from the hus­band, to whome it was due; foolishe, be­cause they haue neither reason, nor foundation: vaine, because they yeld no profit, nor honour, nor contentment: nay contrarilie, they loose time, staine honour, and giue no other pleasure, but onely a vaine desire to hope for they know not what, and pretēd, they vnder­stand not wherfore; for it seemeth still to these base & feeble spirits, that there is I wot not what, to be desired in the testimonies & signes which are shewed them of mutuall loue: but they cannot [Page 346] tell what it is: so that their desire is end­lesse, & hath no bound, goinge still on­ward, and vexinge their harts with per­petuall distasts, iealousies, suspicions, and disquietnes.

3. S. Gregory Nazianzen, writinge against vaine wemen, & loue-wantons, sayth merueilous well of this matter; a litle parcell of the much, that he direct­lie speaketh against wemen (but may as directly be applied against men) is this that foloweth: Thy naturall beautie is suf­ficient for thy husband: but if it be for many men, like to a nett spread out for a flock of foo­lish birds, what will become of it? he will be pleasing to thee, that hath pleased him self in thy beauty: thou wilt render him glaunce, for glaunce, one wanton locke for another: soone after will folow prettie simles, and often ti­mes, languishing loue-tearmes shot forth at randome, for an entrance, or first begining: but soone after wilt thou passe to plaine & mani­festidle talke. Take heed ô my prating tongue, to tell what vsually folowes: yet will I say this one truth; nothinge of all those things which young men and maidens, say, and do together in these foolish passetimes, is exempted from great and stinginge motions of the slesh; all [Page 347] the tricks of wanton loue, are lincked one with another and do folow one another, euen as one peece of iron drawne by the load-stone, dra­weth diuers other peeces likewise after it. O how well saith this great and godlie bishope, what doest thou intend to doe? to make loue? but no bodie maketh loue voluntarilie, that doth not recea­ue it necessarilie. He that catcheth in this sport, is likewise caught him self. The hearbe Aproxis receaueth fire so soone as it commeth neer it: our harts do the like; so soone as they see a hart inflamed with loue for them, they are presentlie inflamed with loue for it. Well (will another say) I will take but a litle of this flame of loue. Alas thou deceauest thy self, this loue-fire is more actiue then thou imaginest, when thou makest account to haue receaued but one sparckle therof into thy hart, thou wilt be amazed to see that in a mo­ment, it will haue seased vpon thy whole hart, and burnt to ashes all thy resolutions, and turnd thy reputa­tion into smoke. The wiseman crieth out: who will haue compassion vpon an enchanter, stung by a serpeut? [Page 348] I also crie after him: O fooles and sen­celesse harts, thinck you to charme lo­ue, and tame it as you list your selues? you would play and dallie with it, but it will bite and sting you to the hart: & what thinck you then will bespoken of you? euerie one will deseruedly mock and scoffe at you, that would needs vn­tertake to enchaunt loue, that vpō a fal­se assurance, would put into your bo­some so dangerous a snake, which hath enuenomed your soule, and poisoned your honour and estimation.

4. O good God! how miserable a blindnes is it, to trifle away in this sort, vpon so friuolous an aduantage, the principall iewell of our soule? Philo­theus, God careth not for man, but in regard of his soule: nor for the soule, but in regard of the will: nor for the will, but in regard of the excellent acts of loue. Alas how much want we of that store of loue which we need? the defect of our loue to God-ward is infinite, and yet in the meane time, wretches that we be, we lauish it out and mispend it riotously vpō vaine & friuolous things, as if we had enough, and too much to [Page 349] spare. But consider that our great God, who hath reserued to him self the loue of the soule, onlie for an acknowledge­ment of our creation, conseruation, & redemption: will exact a verie straight account, for all these foolishe expences of so pretious riches: if he make so ri­gourous an examination of idle words, what will he do of idle, impertinent, foolish, and pernicious loues?

5. The Walnutte tree endamageth the vines and fields where it is planted: for being so great a tronk, it draweth all the fat & sappe of the ground where it gro­weth, and maketh it afterward vnable to nourish other plāts: the leaues therof are so stuffed together, that they make too large and thick a shadow; and allu­reth trauailers vnto it, who to beat downe the nuttes, spoile & tread downe all round about it. These wanton loues doe the verie same harme to the soule: for they do whollie possesse the soule, & so vehemently draw all the other mo­tions vnto it, that she is not able to em­ploy her powers in any other good work their entertainments, communicatiōs, parlies, and amourous toyes, are so fre­quent, [Page 350] that all their goldē time, all their good leasure is spent in them; & finallie they draw so manie temptations, distra­ctions, suspicions and other such badde adherents, that the whole hart is tired & trampled therwith. To be brieffe, the­se wanton loues doe not onely thrust out of dores the heauenly loue of God, but with all bannish the feare and reue­rence of his maiestie, and weaken the spirit, impaire their reputation: they are in a word the may game and pastime of courtes, but the mischief, destruction, and pestilence of harts.

Of trew frindship. CHAP. 19.

1. LOVE euerie one (Philotheus) according as charitie comman­deth, & that with as feruēt a loue as thou canst: but haue frindship onely with those, with whome thou maist cō ­municate in good and virtuous things: & the more exquisite the virtues be, in which this mutuall communication is made, the perfecter will the frindshippe be, that is grounded theron. Yf the cō ­munication between you, be in sciēces & learning, the frindship grounded the­reon, [Page 351] is indeed verie commendable: & more cōmendable, if the cōmunication be in virtues, with prudence, iustice, and discretiō. But if the mutuall cōmunica­tion, be exercised in the acts of charitie, deuotion, & true Christian perfection, O God, how pretious & excellent will this frindship be? it wilbe excellent be­cause it cōmeth frō God, excellent be­cause it goeth to God, excellēt because it is placed in God, excellent because it shall last euerlastingly with God. How good is it to loue vpō earth, as they loue in heauē: to learne to cherish one ano­ther in this world, as we shall doe eter­nallie in the next. I speak not heere of the simple loue of charitie, for that must be borne vnto all men, but of spirituall frindshippe, by which two, or three, or manie soules, do cōmunicate their de­uotiō, their spirituall affectiōs, & make thē selues to be but one spirit in diuerse bodies. Such happie soules may iustly sing; Behold how good a thing it is, and how pleasaunt for brethren to dwell togeather. For the delicious balme of deuotion, di­stilleth from one hart to the other, thorough continuall participation: [Page 352] in so much that it may be sayd, that God hath powred out vpon this frind­ship, his blessing and life for euer. All other frindships, are but shadowes in comparison of this: their bonds be but chaines of glasse or iette, in compari­son of this great bond of holie deuo­ton, whose lincks are all of gold.

2. Make no other frindship but this, I meane of those amities, which thou makest anew heerafter; for thou must not therfore forsake, or despise the frindship, and amitie which either the bond of nature, or the obligation of fore-passed duties do bind thee vnto toward thy parents, knisfolks, benefa­ctours, neighbours, and others.

3. Manie peraduenture will say vnto thee, that we should haue no kind of particular frindship or affection, be­cause it distracteth the mind, occupieth the hart, engendreth enuie and emula­tion: but they are deceaued in their ad­uise, for hauing seene in the writings of manie deuout authours, that parti­cular amities, and excessiue affections, doe infinit harme vnto religious per­sons, they imagin therfore, that it is so [Page 353] with the rest of the world. But there is great difference between both cases. For seeing that in a wel ordered mona­sterie, the common intent and designe of all the religious, is to tend to true deuotion: it is not requisite to make any particular and priuate communica­tions, of their end, and meanes to at­taine vnto it: least searching in particu­lar, for that which is common to them all, they fall from particularities to par­tialities. But for those which liue in the world, and desire to embrace true vir­tue: it is necessarie to vnite them selues together, by a holie frindship, to back and encourage one another, to help, & support them selues naturallie, for the obtaining of all pietie and goodnes. And as they that go vpō plaine ground, need not to be ledd by the hād, though they which go vpon craggie rocks, or slipperie wayes, doe hold one by the other, to walke more steddilie, and se­curely: so they that be in religion, stand in no need of particular frindships, but they that walk in the slipperie pathes of the world, must of necessitie haue some frind or companion thereby, to succour [Page 354] and assure one another amongst so ma­nie daungerous passages which they are to go thorough. In the world all aspire not to the same end, all are not of one mind: one must then doubtlesse with­draw himself from some, and ioine him self to other, and so make frindship ac­cording to the pretention of the end which he intendeth: This particulari­tie, maketh a partialicie indeed, but a holie partialitie which maketh no di­uision, but only betwixt good and bad, sheep & goates, bees and drones which is a separation that is most necessarie for our soules.

4. No man can denie, but that our blessed Lord with a more sweeter, ten­der, & particular amitie loued S. Iohn, Lazarus, Martha, and Magdalen, then he did others of his frinds and acquain­tāce, for the scripture testifieth so much. All men know that S. Peter tenderlie loued S. Mark & S. Petronilla: & S. Paul his Timothee, & S. Tecla, S. Gregory Nazianzen boasteth a hūdred times, of the incōparable frindship which he had with S. Basil the great, & describeth it in this manner: It seemed that in either of [Page 355] vs there was but one soule dwelling in two bodies: for althoughe you must not beleeue those philosophers, who sayd that al things were in euery thing: yet of vs two you may beleeue, that we were both of vs in each one of vs, & one with in the other: we had both of vs the same pretēsion, to exercise virtue, & to applie all the enterprizes & designes of our life to future hopes, departing in this manner out of this trāsitory world, euen before we came to die corpo­rallie it S. Augustin testifietht that S. Ambrose loued S Monica exceedinglie, for the rare virtues which he marked in her, & that she likewise esteemed of S. Ambrose, as of an Angel of God. But I am too blame to hold thee so lōg in a matter that is so cleere S. Hierom S. Augustin, S. Gregory, S. Bernard, & all the greatest & deuoutest seruāts of God, had most particular amities, with outany breach at al of their perfection. S. Paul reproaching the ill behaueour of the Gētils, accuseth thē, that they were peo­ple without al affectiō, to witt, that they had no true frindship. And S. Tho. with al other good Philosophers cōfesse, that [Page 356] frindship is an excellent morall virtue: and he and they speak of particular frindship, since they all say that perfect frindshipp cannot be extended to ma­nie persons: so that perfection doth not consist in hauing no particular amitie, but in hauing none but good, virtuous, and holie.

The difference betwixt true and vaine frindship. CHAPTER 20.

1. BVT now marke an excellent & necessarie aduerticement, my Philotheus; The honny of He­raclea (of which we spake before) which is so venimous, is like the other which is wholsome, so that there is daunger to take the one for the other, or to mingle them both together; for the goodnes of the one, would not hin­der the harme which might come by the other. He must be vpon his garde, that will not be deceaued in these frind­ships, principallie when they are con­tracted betwixt persons of diuers sex, [Page 357] vnder what pretence soeuer: for the di­uel oftentimes chaungeth one frind­ship into the other. They beginne by virtuous loue, but yf they be not verie warie, fond and idle loue will first min­gle it self, then sensuall loue, and after­ward carnall and fleshly loue. Nay the­re is daunger in spirituall loue, yf one be not verie discreet: though in this it be more difficultie for the diuel to co­sen vs in the change, because the puri­tie and milk-white cleannes of this loue discouereth verie easilie the filth that satan offereth to mingle with it: and therfore when he enterprizeth to de­ceaue vs in this, he doeth it more craf­tilie, and maketh impure affections to slide into vs, almost without our notice or feeling.

2. Thou mayst discerne worldly frind­ship, from holie and virtuous amitie, as the Heraclaean honnie, is knowne from the wholsome: the honnie of He­raclaea is sweeter to tast, then the ordi­nary honnie is, because of the luscious iuice of the Aconite, for whence it is gathered: and so worldlie amitie flo­weth with a streame of honnie words, [Page 358] bringeth always abundāce of passiona­te speeches, & affectionate commenda­tions, drawne from beautie, from well fauourednes, frō gracious behaueour, and other sensuall qualities: but holie frindship, speaketh simplie, plainlie, & francklie, & commendeth nothing but Gods grace & virtue, the onely foun­datiō vpō which herself is groūded. The honnie of Heraclea swallowed downe, causeth a dizzinesse in the heade: & fal­se frindship breedeth a giddines in the mind, making men to stagger in cha­stitie, to stūble in deuotion, trāsporting true and holie affection, to daintie lan­guishing lookes, sensuall allurements, disordered sighes, pettie cōplaints that they are not beloued, to alluring ge­stures of loue termes, poursuite of kis­ses, & other too familiar and vnciuil fa­uours, which are assured and vndoubted signes of a neer ouerthrow of honestie. But as for holie frindship, it hath no eyes but simple, chast, & shamefast: no entertaniments or embracements, but such as be pure & francklie offered in sight of all men; no sighes, but for hea­uen; no fauours, but spirituall; no com­plaints, [Page 359] but when God is not loued; in­fallible and euident tokens of honest and chast loue. The honnie of Heraclea troubleth the sight, and this worldlie frindship blindeth the iudgement, so that they which be infected therwith, thinck they doe well, when they doe ill, and esteeme their excuses and pretexts to be true and irreprocheable reasons; they feare the light, and loue darknes. But holie frindship hath a cleere eye sight, and neuer hideth her self, but ap­peareth willinglie before honest persōs. In fine the honnie of Heraclea, leaueth a bitter relish in the mouth: and so false and wanton frindships, turne to carnall wordes, & fleshlie requests, and, if they receaue the deniall, into iniuries, cauil­les, slaunders, sadnes, confusions, iealou­sies, which oft times prouoke wildnes & madnes of mind. But chast & true frind­ship, is allways alike honest, mannerlie, amiable, and neuer changeth, but into a perfecter and purer vnion of spirits, and is a liuelie image of the blessed frind­ship vsed in heauen.

3. Saint Gregorie Nazianzen sayeth that the crie of the Peacock, when he [Page 360] sheweth his starrie-wheeled taile, pro­uoketh the peahennes to lust: when we see a man play the peacock, deck, and trimme vp him self, and then come to parlie and pratle with a woman without pretence of marriage, without, doubt it is but to prouoke her to dishonestie, and a chast woman should stoppe her eares, to the end she might not heare this peacoks ill fauoured noise, nor the voice of this false enchaunter, who would subtillie enchaunt and charme her soule: but the woman that harke­neth, ô God, what an ill signe it is, that the ouerthrow of her reputation is at hand?

4. Young folke, which vse sweete lookes, wanton gestures, secret cour­tings, or speake words which they would not haue heard or marked by their fathers, mothers, husbands, wiues, or spirituall maisters: giue sufficient wit­nesse, that they deale about other mat­ters, then of honour and conscience. Our blessed lady was troubled in thought when she saw an Angel in a mans like­nes: because she was all alone, and he gaue her extraordinarie, though hea­uenly [Page 361] praises. O Saueour of the world, puritie feareth an Angel in the shape of a man, and why should not impuri­tie and frailtie, feare a man, though he come in shape of an Angel, when he praiseth her with humane and sensuall commendations.

Aduices and remedies against naughty frindships. CHAP. 21.

1. BVT what remedie against this wicked seminarie of foolish loues, and wanton impurities? As soone as euer thou feelest thy self surprized with this infection, turne thy self away immediatly, and with an abso­lute detestation of this vanitie, runne vnto the sacred Crosse of our Sauiour, and take his crowne of thornes to put about thy hart, to the end these litle foxes approach no nigher.

2. Take heed of coming vnto any kind of composition with this false ene­mie; say not: I will giue him the hea­ring, but will do nothing that he shall will me; I will lend mine eares vnto him, but denie him my hart. O no Phi­lotheus, [Page 362] for Gods loue be rigorous and stiffe in these occasions. The hart and the eare maintaine one another: and as it is impossible to stoppe a strong strea­me, that taketh his descent from a steep mountaine: so it is hard to hinder, that the loue which entreth into the eare, make not likewise his entrie into the hart. Alcmaeon sayd, that Goats do breath by the eares, and not by the no­sthrills: true it is that Aristotle denieth it, and for my part I know nothing therof: yet this I am assured, that our hart breatheth by the eare; and that as it aspireth, and sendeth foorth his thou­ghts by the mouthe, so it respireth and taketh breath by the eare, by which it receaueth other mens thoughts. Let vs then keep our eares diligently from the ayre of foolish words, least it infect our hart. Harken not then to any kind of wanton motion or preposition, vnder what pretext so euer it be made, onely in this case it makes no matter, to be vn­courteous and vnmannerlie.

3. Remember that thou hast vowed thy hart to God, and sacrifized all thy loue to him, it should then be sacriledge [Page 363] to take one dram therof frō him: rather offer it againe & againe vnto him, by a thousand hartie resolutions & protesta­tions; and keeping thy self close within thē, as Deer within theire thickets, call vpon God; he will help thee, his loue will take thine into his protection, that thy loue may liue for him only.

4. But yf thou be alreadie ensnared in the netts of these foolish loues: O God what difficultie will it be to shift thy self out? Present thy self before the diuine maiestie, acknowledge in his presence, the greatnes of thy miserie, frailtie, and vanitie. Then with the grea­test force that thy hart is able to make, detest these loues, which thou hast be­gunn, abiure the vaine profession, which thou hast made of them; renounce all the promises made or receaued: and with a firme and resolute will, determine in thy hart, and resolue thy self, neuer any more, to enter into these fond di­sportes, and toyish entertainments of wanton loue.

5. Yf thou couldst withdraw thy self from the obiect, it were an excellent remedie. For as they that haue been [Page 364] bitten by serpents, cannot easilie be cured in the presence of them which haue beene other time hurt with the same biting: so the person which is bitt with loue, shall haue much a doe to be healed of this passion, so long as he is nigh the other, which is hurt with the same sting. Chaunge of place is a soue­raigne remedie to appease and allay, the tormenting heats of griefe and loue. The boy, of whome S. Ambrose, spea­keth in his second booke of penance, hauing made a long voyage, returned altogether freed and deliuered from his foolish loues, in which he was be­fore entangled, and became so chaun­ged, that his fond sweete hart meeting him, and saying, knowest thou not me? I am the same that I was. I marrie answered he, but I am not the same that I was: his absence had brought him, to this fortunate mutation. And Saint Augustin witnesseth, that to mi­tigate the grief which he suffered for the death of his frind, he withdrew him self from Tagasta, where his frind died, and came to Carthage.

6. But he that cannot withdraw him [Page 365] self, what must he doe? he must abso­lutely cutt off all particular conuersa­tion, all secret familiaritie, all amiable glaunces of the eyes, all dalliyng smi­les, and generally all sort of commu­nications, and baytes, or inticements which may nourish this sulphurous & smokie fire. Or at least, yf he be forced to speak and talk with the partie, let him in a round, rough, and resolute pro­testation, declare the eternall and irre­uocable diuorcement, that is for euer sworne between them: I crie as loud as I can to euerie one that is fallen into this miserable thraldome of wanton loue, that he cutt, breake, and rent them asunder, and not stand dreaming to vn­rippe, or vnsewe these foolish amities: they must cutt, and not stande to vn­loose the knotts, break them I say, or cutt them, because cordes, and strings are nothing worth. One must not be sparing, or courteous, towards a loue, which is so contrarie to the loue of God.

7. But when I haue broken the chaine of this infamous bondage, there will yet remaine vnto me some scarres [Page 366] some marks, and prints of the slauish chaynes and shackles wherwith I was bound; they will stick still emprinted in my feet, that is in my affections. No my Philotheus, care not, they will not remaine long yf thou conceaue as great a detestation of thy sinne, as it deser­ueth: for so thou shalt neuer be shaken with any motion, but onely this mo­tion of an extreame horrour of this in­famous loue, and of all things that de­pende of it: and thou shalt remaine free from all other affection to the obiect which thou hadst abandoned, sauing only the affection of charitie, purely for Gods cause. But yf for the imperfectiō of thy repentāce, there shall yet remaine in thy soule any naughtie inclinations: procure for thy soule a solitarie ermita­ge, as before I haue taught thee, and re­tire thy self thether, the oftenest that thou canst; and by a thousand iterated resolutiōs of spirit, renounce all thy bad inclinations, reiect them with all thy forces; read holie bookes more then thou wast woont, goe to confession oftener, & cōmunicate more frequent­lie: cōferre humblie and plainlie all thy [Page 367] suggestions and tēptations, which arriue vnto thy soule in this behalfe, with thy spirituall maister, yf thou canst, or at least with some faithfull and prudent frind. And doubt not, but God will sett thee free from all passions, so that thou perseuer faithfully in thy good exercises.

8. Ah (wilt thou say vnto me) but will it not be ingratitude, to break so violently an old frindship? O blessed in­gratitude which maketh vs acceptable vnto God! Nay in the name of God, Philothee, this wilbe no ingratitude, but an infinite benefit, which thou shalt doe to the partie that loues thee: for in breaking thine owne bonds, thou bur­stest a sunder also theirs, in as much they were common to you both: and though at that hower, the other par­tie seeth not the happines, yet he will acknowledge it soone after, and iointlie with thee, will sing for thankfulnes to almightie God: O Lord thou hast bro­ken my bonds, I will sacrifize to thee a sa­crifize of praise, and wil call vpon thy holy name.

Other aduices of the same subiect, of fond amities. CHAPTER 22.

1. I HAVE yet a note of imporance to giue thee touching this self sa­me matter. Frindship requireth great communication betweene frinds, otherwise it will nether grow, nor con­tinew. It happeneth oftentimes that iointlie with this communication of frindship, other communications doe passe vnseene, and vnfelt from one hart to another, by a mutuall infusion and enterchange of affections, inclinations and impressions. This happeneth espe­ciallie, when we greatlie esteeme of the partie whome we loue: for then we open our hart in such sort to his amitie, that withall, these inclinations and im­pressions, enter verie easilie altogether, be they good, or bad. Verelie the Bees that store vp honnie in Heraclea, doe search nothing els but honnie, and yet togeather with the honnie, they suck vp vnawares, the venemous qualitie of [Page 369] the Aconite, vpon which they make their haruest.

2. O my Philothee, in this case, practize the wordes which the Sa­ueour of our soules was woont to say, as the auncient doctours haue taught vs: be good bankers, or good exchan­gers of monie: that is to say, receaue not false mony with the good, nor base gold with fyne: separate the good from the bad, and the vile from that which is precious. For there is no man almost, but hath some imperfection: and what reason is there, to receaue the staines and imperfections of a frind, togeather with his frindship? We must loue him indeed, notwithstanding his imperfe­ction, but we must nether loue, nor re­ceiue his imperfection, for frindship re­quireth cōmunicatiō of good, & not of ill: wherfore as they that take grauel out of the riuer Tajo in spaine, separate the golden graines which they find, to carie with them, and leaue the sand vpon the shoare: so in this cōmunica­tion, euen of good and virtuous frind­ship, we must separate the gold of vir­tues, from the sand of imperfections, [Page 370] and receaue those, and reiect these, that they enter in no case into our soule.

3. S. Gregory Nazianzen recounteth, that manie louing and admiring S. Basil the great, suffered them selues so farre to be caried away with desire of imitating him, that they sought to folow euen his outward imperfections, as in his slowe manner of speaking, with an abstract and pensiue spirit, in the fashion of his beard, in his straunge manner of gate. And we see likewise, husbands, wiues, children, and frinds, who hauing great estimation of their frinds, parents, husbands, and wiues, do learne either by condescendence, or by imitation, a thousand such like humours, only by the frequent cōmunication which they haue one with another. Yet ought not this to be done, for euerie one hath naughtie inclinatiōs enow of his owne, without surcharging himself with other mens faultes: and frindship doth not onely, not require any such matter, but contrariwise, it bindeth vs to help one another mutuallie from these imperfe­ctions. We must indeed meekly suffer our frinds in their imperfectiōs, but we [Page 371] must not throw them into them, and much lesse pull them into our selues. I speak only of imperfections: for as for sinnes, we must neither beare them our selues, nor suffer them in our frinds.

4. It is either a naughtie, or a feeble frindship, to see our frind readie to pe­rish, and not succour him: to see him readie to die of an impostume, & not to dare to launce it with the razor, of cor­rection, so to saue his life: true & liuely amitie, cānot liue amongst sinne. They say the Salamandra, putteth out the fier in which she lieth: and so doth sinne destroy that frindship, wherin it lod­geth: yf it be a sinne that quicklie pas­seth, frindship will presently bannish it by correction: but yf it be a sinne that abideth and soiourneth in our frinds hart, then frindship soone perisheth, for it cannot subsist but vpō true virtue: and how much lesse then ought we to sinne our selues, for frindships sake. Thy frind is a foe, whē he would induce thee to sinn & he deseruedlie loseth all the priuiled­ges of frindship, that seeketh to destroy & dāne his frind. Nay it is one of the as­sured markes of false frindship, to see

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an almond-tree from its kernell, will bring foorth all her actions, which are her fruicts, engraued and superscribed with that same word of saluation. And as this sweet Iesus will liue in thy hart, so will he liue in all thy gesture, and behaue our, and will appeere in thine eyes, in thy mouth, in thy hands, and euen in thy haire, and thou wilt be then able to say with Saint Paule: I liue now, not I; but Christ liueth in me. To be brief, he that hath gained the hart of a man, hath gained the man him self wholly.

2. But the same hart, by which we would begin, requireth to be instru­cted, how it should behaue and go­uerne it self in exteriour occasions: to the end men may not onely see de­uotion, but wisdome also, and dis­cretion in it: for this cause I will lay downe vnto thee, a few brief ad­uices.

3. Yf thou art able to endure fa­sting, accustom thy self to fast some times, beside the fast which holie Churche enioineth; for so besides the ordinarie effects of fasting, which are [Page 375] to eleuate the spirit, to tame the flesh, to practize virtue, to winne greater recompence in heauen; it is a soueraigne meanes, to chaine vp the deuouring monster of gluttonnie: and to bridle the sensuall appetite, and to keepe the bodie subiect and plia­ble to the lawe of the spirit. And al­though one fast not with extraordi­narie rigour; yet the enemie fea­reth vs, when he perceaueth we can find in our hart to fast something. Wednesdays, frydays, and saturdays, are the dayes, in which the aun­cient Christians did exercise them­selues in abstinence: take some of them therfore to fast in, as much as thy deuotion, and thy ghostlie councellours discretion shall councell thee.

4. I would willinglie say, as holie S. Hierom sayd to the deuout ladie Laeta: Long and immoderate fastings do much di­splease me, especially in those that are yet ten­der in yeares. I haue learned by expe­rience, that the litle Asse being wearie in his iourney, seeketh to go out of the way: I meane, that young folk [Page 376] being brought low through excesse of fasting, doe fall willinglie to rest and delicatenesse. The Deer runne ill in two seasons, when they are charged with ouermuch fat, and when they become ouer-leane. We are likewise most sub­iect to tentations, when our bodie is to much pampered with daintie fare: and when it is ouer weakened: for the one excesse, maketh it insolent with ease, and the other maketh it desperate with affliction; And as we can scantlie beare it, when it is vnweldie through fatnes: so can it not beare vs, when it is enfee­bled by leannesse. The back of this moderation in fasting, in disciplininge in hairclothes, and other austerities, make the best yeares of manie to be vn­profitable in the chiefe works of cha­ritie; (as it did in S. Bernard him self, who repented that he had vsed ouer­much austeritie) the more vnreasona­blie they afflicted their bodies in their beginning, the more were they con­strained in the end to spare and fauour them. Had they not done better, to ha­ue mortified their bodie indifferentlie, and proportionablie to the offices and [Page 377] labours, whervnto their state obliged them.

5. Fasting and labour both doe tur­ne and subdue the fleshe. But if the la­bour which thou art to doe, be neces­sarie, or verie profitable to the glorie of God, I had rather thou wouldst suffer the toile of labour, then of fasting. This is at least the intention of holie church; which for labours that are pro­fitable to the seruice of God and our neighbour, dischargeth such as are bu­sied in them, from the fastes otherwise inioyned. It is painfull indeed to fast, but bodilie labour suffereth this paine in seruing the sick, in visiting priso­ners, hearing confessions, assisting the desolate, preaching, praying, & in such like exercises: this painfull toile is bet­ter then the other; for besides that it weakeneth the bodie as much as fa­sting, it hath manie more fruicts, and much more desirable. And therfore speaking generallie, it is better to pre­serue more bodilie forces then are pre­cisely needfull, then to weaken them more then one should: for we may all­ways abate them and pull them downe [Page 378] when we will: but we cannot repare them allways when we would.

6. Mee thinks we should greatly reuerence the wordes which our bles­sed Saueour sayth vnto his disciples: Eate that which shalbe sett before you. It is (as I imagin) a greater virtue to eat without choice, that which is presen­ted vnto thee, be it for thy tast or no, then to choose allway the worst. For allthough this later kind of mor­tification, doe seeme more austere: the other notwithstanding hath grea­ter resignation; for therby one re­nounceth, not onely his owne tast, but his owne election withall; nei­ther is it a small mortification, to alter a mans tast at euery hand, and to haue it in subiection at all occur­rences. Moreouer this kind of au­steritie, is not so much marked, nor troubleth any man with ceremonious refusals, and exceedinglie befitteth a ciuil life. To put by one meat, and take another; to scrape and lick eue­ry dishe, to find no messe well enough dressed for vs; to vse cere­monies at euery morsell: betokeneth [Page 379] a nice nature, and too attentiue to the dishes and platters. I esteeme more that of S. Bernard, who dranck oile in steed of water or wine, then yf he had dronck wormewood of purpose: for it was a plaine signe, that he thought not vpon that which he dranck. And in this carelessnesse of that which one ea­teth or drincketh, consisteth the per­fect practize of this sacred rule of our Saueour, Eate that which shalbe sett before you. I except notwithstanding such meats as endamage our health, or trouble the spirit, as hotte meates doe to manie men, and such as be spiced, fumie, and windie; and like­wise I except certaine occasions, in which nature standeth in need to be recreated, and strengthened, to sup­port some great labour for Gods glo­rie. A continuall and moderate so­brietie, is better then violent absti­nences, made at interrupted times, intermingled with manie recreations and refreshings.

7. Disciplining the bodie likewise hath a merueilous efficacie, to stirre vp in vs a desire of deuotion, when it is [Page 380] moderatly vsed. Haire-cloth tameth the flesh very much, but the ordinarie vse therof, is neither for married per­sons, nor delicate complexions, nor for such as are exercised with painfull labours. True it is that vpon the princi­pall dayes of penance, one may well vse it, with aduice of a discreet confessour.

8. Euerie one according to his com­plexion, must spend as much of the night to sleep in, as is requisite to make all the day after profitable. And be­cause the holie scripture in a hundred places, the examples of Gods Saints, and naturall reasons, do seriously com­mend the morning vnto vs, as the best and most profitable season of all the daye, and our Lord himself is named the sunne-rising, and our Ladie is ter­med Aurora, or dawning of the day: I thinck it is a virtuous fore cast, to take our rest somwhat timelie ouer-night, to awake and arise earlie in the mor­ning; for that time is most fauourable, quiet, and fittest for prayer: the verie Birds doe then inuite vs to our dutie, and to the seruice of God, to omitte, that rising in the morning, is a great [Page 381] helpe for health and helthsomnesse.

9. Balaam moūted on his Asse, went to find out Balaac, but because he had no good intention, the Angel waited for him in the way, with a naked sword in his hand to kill him. The poore Asse that saw the Angel so dreadfullie expe­cting, stood still three sondrie times, as weerie and tired: wherat Balaam in rage beat her cruellie with his staffe, to make her go forward: vntill the sillie beast, the third time falling downe vn­der Balaam of purpose, miraculously spake vnto him, saying: What haue I done to thee, for which thou hast beat me now three seuerall times? and by and by Balaams eyes were opened, & he saw the Angell, which sayd vnto him: wherfore didst thou beat thy Asse? yf she had not turned back before me, I had killed thee, and saued her. Then Balaam sayd vnto the Angel. Lord I haue sinned, for I knew not, that thou hadst placed thy self in the way against me. Doest thou see Philotheus? Balaam is the cause of all this harme, and he striketh and beateth his poore Asse, that could not doe with all. The verie same chaunceth oft times

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but aboue all it is necessarie well to pu­rifie our affections, & refresh our soules. In all, and ouer all, keep this rule, neuer to vndertake corporall austerities, but with aduise of our spirituall condu­ctour.

Of companie, and solitarinesse. CHAPTER 24.

1. TO seeke companie, and vtterly to flie from it, are two extrea­mes to be blamed in ciuil deuo­tion, which is that wherof I discourse: for shunning all companie, sauoureth of disdaine and contempt of our neigh­bour: and seeking after it, smelleth of idlenes. We are bound to loue our neighbours as our selues, and to shew that we loue him, we must not flie from his companie: and to testifie that we loue our selues, we must take pleasure with our selues when we are alone. Thinck first of thy self (sayth S. Bernard) and then of others. If then no reason or cause vrge thee, to enter into anie com­panie, stay in thy self, and conuerse with [Page 385] thy owne hart: But yf companie chance thee, or any iust cause inuite thee to be present, go thether in Gods name Phi­lotheus, & see thy neighbour willingly and louingly.

2. They call that euel conuersation, which is kept for some euil intent: or when they that keep it, are vitious, in­discreet, and dissolute: and such we must auoide, as the Bees do vse to turne away from a swarme of Harnets or Butter­flies. For as they that are bitten by madd Dogges, haue their sweat, breath, and spittle verie contagious, but prin­cipallie daungerous for litle children, and for those of delicate complexion: so vitious, vnmannerlie, and immodest persons, cannot be frequented, but with hazard, and danger, and in especiall by those, whose deuotion is yet but tender and delicate.

3. There be some kind of conuersa­tions, profitable for nothing, but for meere recreation, which are made by a simple turning or abstracting of our minds from serious affaires: for such, though a man must not be totallie ad­dicted vnto them, yet we may lend them [Page 386] so much leasure, as is conuenient for re­creation.

4. Other recreations, haue some ho­nestie and good respect for their end: as are mutuall visitations, and certaine assemblies, made to do some honour to our neighbour. Touching these, as one should not be superstitious in practizing them, so one must not be vnciuil in contemning them, but satis­fie with modestie, the obligation, to eschew equallie the note of lightnes, or rusticitie.

5. There remaine now the profitable recreations, such as are kept with de­uout, and virtuous persons: O Philo­thee, it will alway be an exceeding good turne for thee, to encounter oft times such recreations. The vine planted by an Oliue-tree, beareth a fat kind of grape, that sauoureth something like the oliues: and a soule that happeneth to be in virtuous companie, cannot choose but be partaker of their good qualities. Drones cannot make honnie alone by them selues, but by the help of the Bees they make it: it is a great help for weake soules to exercise deuotion, [Page 387] to conuerse and haunt with vertuous persons.

6. In all conuersation and compa­nie, sinceritie, simplicitie, sweetnes, and modestie, are still to be preferred. There be some so curious, that no one mo­tion they vse, but is done so artificial­lie, that they make the cōpanie weerie; And as he that would not walk but tel­ling his steppes, or neuer would speak but singing, would be tedious to other men: so they that euer vse an artificiall demeanour, and will do nothing but in print, trouble the companie in which they are, and are always subiect to some spice of presumption. Let a modest myrthe for the most part predominate in our conuersation. Saint Romuald, and Saint Anthonie are highlie com­mended and admired, that notwith­standing all their most rare auste­rities, they had always their countenan­ce pleasant, and their words adorned with cheerfull alacritie. Reioice with them that reioice. I saye, once agai­ne with the Apostle: Reioice in our Lord always, againe I say, reioice: Let your modestie be knowne to all men. [Page 388] To reioice in our Lord, it is needfull the cause of thy ioye be not onely lawfull, but honest also: and this I say, because there are some things that be lawfull, which yet are not honest: And to the end that thy modestie may appeer, kee­pe thy self from all manner of insolen­cie, for it is alway blame worthie. To giue one a fall in sport, to begrime ano­thers face, to pinche one, and such tricks as these, are fond, foolish and insolent meriments.

7. Besides the mentall solitude, or spirituall hermitage whervnto, thou mayst withdraw thy self, euen amid the greatest conuersations that are (as I haue alreadie declared) thou must loue to be locallie, reallie and in verie deed solitarie: not to go to the desart or wil­dernes, as S. Marie of Egypt, Saint Paul, Saint Anthonie, Arsenius, and the other fathers of the desart: but to be sometime in thy garden, or in thy chamber, or els where, as thou likest best; where thou maist withdraw thy spirit into thy soule, and recreat they selfe with good thoughts, and holie considerations, or some spirituall le­cture, [Page 389] according to the example of the great Nazianzen bishop, who spea­king of him self sayth: I walked my self with my self about sunn-setting, and passed the time vpon the sea shore: for I accustomed to vse this recreation, to ease my mind, and to shake of, at least for a litle while, my ordinarie troubles. And vpon this point he discourseth of the good meditation, which I declared vnto thee in another place; and according to the example of Saint Ambrose, of whome Saint Augustin recounteth, that him self entring oft times into Saint Am­brose his chamber (for entrance was denied to no man) he beheld him rea­ding in silence; and expecting some­time, for feare of troubling him, he returned home without speaking a word: thincking that the litle time which remained to this great Pastour, for refreshing and recreating his spi­rit, after the multitude of his affaires, should in no wise be taken from him. So after the Apostles one day had told our Lord, how they had preached and laboured: Come (sayd our Lord) into the desart, and repose your selues a litle.

Of decency and handsomnes in attire. CHAPTER 25.

1. SAINT Paul admonisheth de­uout wemen (and the same must be vnderstood of men) to be attired in decent apparell, clothing them selues with shamefastnes and so­brietie. Now then the decencie of ap­parell, and other ornaments, depende of their matter, fashion, and cleanlines. Touching cleanlines, it should almost allwayes be a like in our apparel, vpon which as near as may be, we should not permitt anie kind of vncomely foulnes, or slouenrie. Exteriour neatnes ordina­rilie signifieth the inward cleannesse of the soule. God him self requireth cor­porall cleanlynesse, in those that ap­proache nigh his altar, and haue the principall charge and care of deuo­tion.

2. As for the stuffe, and fashion of attire the comlines, and decencie therof is to be examined and considered ac­cording to manie circumstances, of [Page 391] time, age, estate, companie, occasion. Men apparell them selues ordinarily better vpon festiuall dayes, according to the solemnitie of the feast which is celebrated. In time of penaunce as in lent, they rather humble and abase them selues: at weddings they put on wed­ding-garments, at burialls, moorning robes; with princes men sette foorth them selues according to their estate, at home they vse themselues more ho­mely. The married woman may, and must adorne her self in her housbands presence, when he desireth it: but yf she doeth so in his absence, one might aske her, whose eyes she meant to please with that particular care? The manner is to permitte more gallant ornaments to young maidens: because they may lawfullie desire to please manie, with intent honestlie to winne one alone for holie marriage. Neither is it estee­med amisse that widowes, which pre­tēd marriage, deck vp themselues hand­somlie: so that they shew no lightnes or fondmes in their attire; for hauing al­redie been married, and charged with gouernement of a familie, and passed [Page 392] the mourning state of widowhood: they are held to be, and indeed should be, of a more ripe and setled iudge­ment. But as for those which are wid­dowes indeed, not onely in bodie, but in hart and purpose, no ornament bet­ter becommeth them then humilitie, modestie and deuotion: for yf they in­tend to allure men with their brauerie, they are not true widowes; and yf it be not their intention to allure men, why do they vse such instruments? He that will not receaue guests in his inne, must pull downe the signe from his lod­ging. Old folke be always ridiculous, when they will play tricks of youth: for these follies are not to be tolerated, but only in young persons.

3. Be handsome Philotheus, and suffer nothing about thee to traile vn­decentlie, or to sitt out of order: we dishonour them with whome we con­uerse, to come into their companie in vncomelie apparell. But take heed withal of wantonnesse, curiosities, foo­leries, and vanities. As farre as thou art able, keep thy self always on plaine simplicities side: for modestie without [Page 393] duplicitie is the greatest ornament of beautie, and the best excuse for hard-fauour.

4. Saint Peter aduertised young wemen especially, that they should not wear their tresses of their haire curled, frizled, toured, and tormented, as now is the ordinarie fashion: but yf men should affect such fondnes in their owne locks, they should iustlie be stiled effeminate persons. Euen vaine women, giuen to these toyes affectiona­tlie, are counted scant of chastitie, or yf they haue anie, it is not perceiued among so manie fooleries. They say they haue no ill meaning in it. But I replie (as I haue else where sayd) that the diuel hath enough in it al­ways.

5. I would haue my frind whome I affect, to be apparelled best of all the companie: but yet with the least pom­pe and curiositie; and, (as they com­monlie say) that he were adorned with good cariage, comelines, and worthines. Saint Lewes sayth in one word, that one should be apparelled according to his calling; so that gra­ue

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4. Aboue all things performe this Angelicall office, mildlie, and sweetlie, not in manner of correction, but by way of inspirations. For it is wonder­full how powerfullie a louelie and sweet manner of proposing good matters, draweth and allureth the harts of the hearers.

5. Whensoeuer therfore thou art to speak of God, and of deuotion, do it not slightly, by way of common talke, but with attention, and care: which I say, to take from thee a notable vanitie, that is to be found in manie that make profession of deuotion: who at euerie occasion abound in holie and feruou­rous words, vpon a kind of brauerie, litle minding in hart, that which they speak with their mouthes: and after they haue spoken such spirituall bra­ueries, they imagine them-selues to be such, as their great words seeme to make boast; which indeed is no­thing so.

Of courtesie in talk, and due respect of persons. CHAP. 27.

1. YF any sinneth not in word (sayth. S. Iames) he is a perfect man. Be­ware thou let not fall any vn­seemly word, for although it proceed not from thee with an ill intention, yet they that heare it, may interpret it farre otherwise. An vnseemlie word ouer­heard by a weak and feeble hart, sprea­deth and enlargeth it self like a droppe of oyle, falling vpon a peece of cloth: and sometime it so seazeth vpon the hart, that it filleth it with a thousand, vncleane thoughts and imaginations; For as the poison, which infecteth the bodie, entreth by the mouth: so the poison which intoxicateth the soule, entreth by the eare: and the tongue which produceth this poison is a mur­therer. For although peraduenture the poison which it hath spitte foorth, hath not wrought his effect, because it found the harts of the hearers fortified with some preseruatiue: yet there was no [Page 398] want of malice on his part, to committ the murther. And let noe man excuse him self by saying, that he, for his part, thought no harme: for our Lord, who knoweth mens thoughts, hath sayd: That out of the aboundance of the hart the mouth speaketh. And though we thinck no harme in doing or saying so, yet the deuil thincketh a great deale: and oft times doth secretlie make vse of those wicked words to wound the hart of some feeble hearer. They say, such as haue eaten the hearbe called Ange­lica, haue allways a sweet pleasaunt breath: and they that haue honestie and chastitie (which is the virtue of An­gels) in their harts, haue their words allwayes pure, ciuil, and chast. As for indecencies and scurrilities, the Apo­stle will not once haue them named among vs, assuring vs, that nothing: so much corrupteth good manners, as wicked talke.

2. Yf these vnseemly words be vtte­red cunninglie, with willie conceipts, or subtil curiositie, then are they farre more venimous. For as a Dart, the sharper it is, the more easilie it pier­ceth [Page 399] our bodie: so the more sharpe and wittily that a wanton or vnseem­lie word is couched in conuersation, the deeper it penetrateth into our harts. And they that esteeme them selues gallant felowes, for multiplying such vnseemlie iests in conuersation, know not indeed wherfore conuer­sations are ordained; for they should be like swarmes of Bees, gathered to­gether, to make honnie of some plea­saunt and virtuous entertainment, and not like a multitude of Waspes, who come together to suck some vnsa­uourie carrion. Yf any bad compa­nion, speake some misbeseeming words vnto thee, declare that thine eares be offended therwith, either turning thy self to some other matter, or leauing the companie, or by some other meanes, which thy pruden­ce and discretion shall dictate vnto thee.

3. It is one of the woorst conditions that a man can haue, to be a scoffer. God himself professeth extreame ha­tred against this vice, and hath made ve­rie strange punishments alredie therof. [Page 400] Nothing is so contrarie to charitie, and especiallie to deuotion, as the despising and contemning of our neighbour: but derison and mockerie, is neuer wi­thout this contempt, and therfore it is a grieueous sinne: so that the Doctours do say with great reason, that scoffing and flouting, is one of the greatest of­fences that a man can committ against his neighbour, by words: for other of­fences are committed always with some respect, and interest of the offender, but this is donne onely of meere dis­pight and contempt.

4. As for iesting wordes, which be spoken one to another, with modest and cheerfull myrthe, they proceed from a virtue called Eutrapelia by the Greeks, which we may call, good con­uersation: by which we take an honest and pleasaunt recreation, vpon friuo­lous occasions, which humane imper­fections do offer: onely this we must beware, least from this honest myrthe, we passe to immodest scoffing and flou­ting. For scoffing, prouoketh to a spightfull kind of laughter, in con­tempt and disdainfull mockerie of our [Page 401] neighbour: but modest iesting prouo­keth to laughter, by a simple confiden­ce, and franck familiaritie, ioined with some wittie conceipt, without iniu­ring anie man.

S. Lewis, when religious persons offered to talke with him after meales of great and high matters: It is not now a time to alledge textes (would he say) but to recreat our spirits, with some merry con­ceipt, and quodlibeticall question: let euery man talk decently of what he list. Which this holy king was woont to say for the nobilities sake, that were then about him, expecting the fauour of his maie­fties amiable conuersations. But let vs so passe our time my Philotheus, in re­creation, that we keep for all that, a certaine perpetuitie of deuotion.

Of rash iudgement. CHAPTER 28.

1. IVDGE not, that your selues be not iudged, sayth the Saueour of our soules: condemne not, and you shall not be condemned. No, sayth the holy Apostle; Iudge not before the time, vntill [Page 402] our Lord do come, who will light the hidden things of darknesse, and lay open the se­crets of harts. O how displeasing be rashe indgements vnto almightie God! Ther­fore are the iudgements of the children of men rashe, and temerarious, becau­se they are not iudges one of another, so that in iudging they vsurpe and arroga­te to them selues the office that is pro­per and peculiar to our Lord. They be rashe likewise, because the principall malice and wickednesse which is in sin­ne, dependeth of the intentions and councells of the hart, which is a dar­ke and vnsearcheable dungeon for our eyes. They be rashe, because euery one hath enough to doe to iudge his owne selfe, he neede not vndertake withall to iudge his neighbour. Not to iudge others, and to iudge our sel­ues, are two thinges equallie necessarie for vs, not to be iudged our selues: for as our blessed Lord forbiddeth vs the one, so his holy Apostle inioineth vs the other, saying that. Yf we did iudge ourselues, we should not be iudged. But ô good God, we doe quite contrarie: that which is forbid vs, we cease not [Page 403] to doe, iudging our neighbour at euerie occasion: and that which is commanded vs, to iudge our sel­ues, we do not so much as once thinck of.

2. The remedies against this vice of rashe iudging, must be applied accor­ding to the diuersitie of causes, from whence rashe iudgements vse to pro­ceed. Some men there are of so sharpe and sower a condition by nature, that whatsoeuer they receaue, turnes bitter in their harts, chaunging iugdement (as the prophet sayth) into wormewood, ne­uer iudging their neighbour, but with ri­gour and bitternesse. Such men haue great neede of the help of some spiri­tuall physician, that may teach them how to vanquish this bitternesse of hart which because it is naturall vnto them, is hardly amended: And though in it self it be no sinne, but onely an imper­fection, yet is it verie daungerous, be­cause it causeth this vice of rash iudge­ment to raigne in the hart. Other some iudge rashely not for harshenes of con­dition, but of meere pride, imagining that by diminishing and suppressing [Page 404] other mens honour, they aduaunce and increase their owne, arrogant, and pre­sumptuous spirits, which admire them­selues, and place them selues so high in their owne estimation, that they hold all men in comparison of them, to be abiect, base, and of no worth at all: so sayd the fond pharisey in the ghospell, I am not as other men. Some there are that haue not in them this manifest pride, but onely of a vaine complacence or delight which they haue in their owne excellence, consider other mens imperfections, to tast (as it were) with more content the contrarie perfections wherwith they presume thēselues to be endowed. This self-pleasing conceipt is so secret, and so hard to be percea­ued, that vnlesse one haue great insight in diseases of the soule, he can not dis­couer it: and they themselues that are sick of it, do not know it, vntill it be shewed vnto them. Other there be, that to flatter, and excuse them selues, and to mitigate the remorse of their owne guiltie consciences, gladly iudge other men faultie in the same vice, wherunto they feele themselues to be addicted, [Page 405] as yf the multitude of offenders made their sinnes lesse to be blamed. Many giue themselues to iudge rashly of others, onely of a vaine pleasure which they take, to discourse, and prognosti­cate other mens humours, and beha­ueours, exercising their witts, at the cost of theire neighbours credit and good name. And yf by mischaunce they chaunce to giesse aright in their iudge­ment: they wilbe bold thereafter in like iudgements, that one shall verie hardly draw them from this follie. Others iudge of passion, thincking that best which they loue, and that stark naught which they hate: sauing in one case onely admirable, yet true, and daylie experienced; whetin the excesse of loue maketh men iudge ill of that which thy loue; A monstrous effect, proceeding allwaies from an impure and sensuall loue, troubled and sick with iealousie, which as euerie man knoweth, vpon a bare looke, vpon the least smile in the word, condemneth the party beloued of disloyaltie, or adulterie. To conclu­de, feare, ambition, and other such like defectiue passions, and diseases of [Page 406] the minde do ordinarilie contribute to­ward the oreeding of suspicions and rashe iudgements.

3. But what remedies do we prescri­be to this disease? There is an hearbe in Ethopia, called Ophiusa, the iuice wherof being drunck, maketh men imagin, that they see themselues all enuironed with hotrible serpents: so they that haue swallowed downe pride, enuie, ambition, & hatred, imagin all things which they see, to be faultie and defectiue. These to be healed, must drinck wine made of palmes, and these others must drinck as much as they can of the sacred wine of chari­tie, and it will purge them of these naughtie humours, which cause them to make such rashe and peruerse iudge­ments. Charitie feareth to meet with euill, so farre of is she from seeking af­ter it; when she meeteth with it, she turneth away her face, and maketh as yf she saw it not; nay at the first noise of euill, she shutteth her eyes that she may not see it: & afterward with a holy simplicitie beleeueth, that it was not euil, but onely the shadow or likenes of [Page 407] euill. And yf by no meanes she cā excuse it, but euidently seeth it to be euill, she turneth away her sight, & endeuoureth presently to forget the ouglie shape therof. Charitie is the soueraigne reme­die against al euils but especially against this. All things seeme yealowe to their eyes that are sick of the iaunders, and they say, to heale them, they must wea­re the hearbe Celydonia vnder the plan­tes of their feet. The sinne of rashe iud­gement, is a spirituall iaunders, & ma­keth all things appeere reprehensible to their eyes that be infected therwith: he that wilbe cured of it, must applie the remedies not to his eyes, nor to his vn­derstanding, but to his affections, which are the feet of the soule. Yf thy affectiōs be mild, & gentle, such will thy iudge­ment of things be: yf thy affections be charitable, thy iudgemēt wil also be cha­ritable. I present vnto thee three admi­rable examples; Isaac had sayde that Re­becca was his sister: Abimelech saw him playing with her, that is making verie much of her, & he iudged persently that she was his wife: a naughtie eye would rather haue iudged her to haue been [Page 408] his stroumpet, or yf she were his sister, that he had been incestuous. But Abi­melech, folowed the most charitable opinion, that he could gather of such an action. We must alway do the like (my Philotheus) as much as is possible, in censuring our neighbours actions: and yf one action had a hundred faces, we should always cast our sight vpō the fairest. Our Ladie was great with child, and S. Ioseph perceaued it well enough; but because on the other side he saw her to be pure, holy, and of an Angelicall life, he could not beleeue that she came to be with child otherwise then became her sainctitie, in so much that he re­solued to forsake her secretly, and leaue the iudgement of hir innocēce to God, though the appeeraunce of the thing, was a violent argument to make him conceaue an ill opinion of the Virgin, yet would not he iudge her, least he should iudge rashely. And why so? be­cause (sayth the spirit of God) he was iust. A iust man, when he can no longer excuse neither the action, nor the in­tention of him, whome otherwise he knoweth to be an honest man: yet will [Page 409] not he iudge of the matter, but wipeth the remembrance of it out of his mind, and leaueth it for God to iudge. Nay our blessed Sauiour vpon the crosse, though he could not altogeather excu­se the sinne of them that crucified him: yet did he diminishe the malice of it, alledging their ignorance. When [...] cannot excuse the sinne it self, let [...] least (according to our Lords example) make it worthie of compassion, attri­buting it to the most tolerable cause we may, as to ignorance or infirmitie.

4. But what? may we neuer iudge of our neighbour? no verely: neuer. It is onely God that iudgeth, euen when malefactours are iudged in publique tribunals True it is, that he vseth the magistrats voice, to make him self the better vnderstood by vs: they be his interpretours, and ought, to pronounce nothing, but what they haue learned of him, as being his oracles: But yf they doe otherwise, folowing their owne passions, then it is they indeed that iudge, and consequently shalbe iudged. For men are forbidden, as they are men, to iudge any man.

5. To see or know a thing, is not to iudge or censure it: for iudgement, at least according to the scriptures phrase, presupposeth some true or apparēt con­trouersie to be ended: and this is the rea­son of that manner of speeche, in which our Sauiour sayth, that they which be­leeue not, are allreadie iudged; because there is no doubt of their damnation. Is it not lawfull thē to doubt of our neigh­bour? it is not always vnlawfull, for we are not forbiddē to doubt, but to iudge: yet must we neither doubt nor suspect our neighbour, but when force of rea­sons, and euident arguments, do con­straine: otherwise euen doubts, and suspicions, are rashe and temerarious. Yf some suspicious eye had seen Iaacob kisse Rachel by the well, or Rebecca re­ceaue earings and braceletts at Eliezers hands, being a man vnknowne in that coūtrie: he would doubtlesse haue thou­ght ill, of these two rare paternes of chastitie; but without sufficient cause or ground; for when the action is indif­ferent of it self, it is rashe suspicion to draw badde cōsequence from it, vnlesse manie circumstances giue force to the [Page 411] argument. It is also a rashe iudgemente, to drawe an argument from the action, to blame the person; of which we will by and by speak more cleerly.

6. To be brieffe, all men that haue diligent care of their cōscience, are not much subiect to make rashe iudgemēts of other mens matters. For as Bees in foggie mistes, or cloudie weather retire to their hiues, to busie them selues with their honny: so the thoughts of deuour soules, neuer wander abroade to censure or to marke the doubtfull and secret actions or intentions of their neigh­bour: but least they should by mar­king them, fall in danger of censuring them, they retire them selues by a care­full introuersion (as spirituall men call it) into them selues, there in the clo­set of their soules, to view and order the good resolutions of their owne a­mendment.

7. It is the part of an idle and vn­thriftie soule, to busie her self in exa­minge other mens liues: excepted al­ways such as haue charge of others, as well in common wealths, as in pri­uat families, and communities: for a [Page 412] great part of the quiet of their con­sciences, consisteth in watchinge dili­gently ouer the consciences of other: Let such men doe that carefull dutie with loue and mildnes: that done, let them keep them selues with in them selues, to be at more tranquillitie, and safer from excesse in this matter.

Of slaunder and back biting. CHAPTER 29.

1. RASHE iudgement, breedeth disquiet, disdaine and contempt of our neighbours, pride and self cōceipt, and a hundred other pesti­lent effects: among which backbiting, and speaking ill of other men, hath the first place, as the verie plague of all con­uersations. O that I had one of the bur­ning coales of the holy altar, to touch therwith the lippes of men, and take away their iniquities, and cleanse their sinne: imitating the Seraphin, that puri­fied the mouth of the prophet Esay, with a coale takē from the altar of God: for he that could bannishe slaunderous [Page 413] lippes out of the worlde, would take away one of the greatest causes of sinne and iniquitie.

2. He that vniustlie robbeth his neigh­bour of his good renowne, besides the sinne committed, is bound to repare the domage though differently, according to the diuersitie of slanders vsed: for no man can enter into heauen with other mens goods: and amongst all exteriour goods, a good name is the most pre­tious. Slaunder is a kind of willfull and perfidious murther: for we haue three liues, one spirituall which consisteth in the graces of God: another corporall, which cometh frō our soule; the third a ciuil or morall life, which consisteth in our good name; sinne robbeth vs of the first, death taketh from vs the secōd, and an ill tongue depriueth vs of the thirde. Nay a slaūderous tongue at one blowe, committeth ordinarilie three seuerall murders; he killeth his owne soule, and his that hearkeneth to him, and taketh away the ciuil life of him whome he slaūdereth: for as S. Bernard sayth, he that detracteth, and he that harkeneth to the detractour, both of them haue the diuel [Page 414] vpon them: but the one hath him in his tongue, and the other in his eare. They haue whetted their tongues like serpents, sayth Dauid, speaking of detractours: for as the serpents tongue is forked, and double pointed, as Aristotle sayth; so is a detractours tongue, who at one time stingeth and poisoneth the eare of him that heareth him, and the reputation of him whome he back-biteth.

3. I charge thee therfore (most deare Philotheus) that thou neuer speak ill of any man, directlie or indirectlie: neuer impose false crimes and fained faultes vpon thy neighbour: neuer discouer his secret sinnes, nor exaggerate those that are notorious; neuer interpret in ill part his good work: neuer denie the vir­tue & good parts which thou knowest to be in him, nor dissemble them mali­tiouslie, nor diminish them enuiously: for by all these manner of wayes, thou shalt offend God greeuously: but most of all by deniyng the truth to the preiu­dice of thy neighbour, or by accusing him falselie: for it is a double sinne, of lying, and robbing thy neighbour both at once.

4. They that to speak ill of another, make prefaces of honour, excusing their intentions; or mingle secret and slie iests, and the prayses which they would seeme to recount of another, are the most venemous and mischieuous detractours of all. I protest (say they) I loue him with my hart, and as for other matters, he is a right honest man: but yet one must tell the troth. I must needs say he did ill to play so treacherons a part. She is a verie vir­tuous maiden (sayth another) but she was ouerreached in such an occasion: and such like diminishing additions, which are most ordinarilie vsed. Seest thou not this slight of theirs? The archer drawing his bow, draweth likewise the arrow as nigh to him self as he can: but it is onelie to shoot it with greater force. It seemes these felowes do drawe their tongues to thē selues, but it is onely to let them ouer­shoot with greater violence, and pierce more profoundlie into the harts of the audience, or cōpanie where they talke. Detractiō vttered in a iesting & scoffing manner, is yet more wicked then the [Page 416] former Seney (they say) is not a present poison of it self, but slowe in working, and easilie remedied, but being taken with wine it is remedilesse: So speaking ill of our neighbours, which would o­therwise passe lightlie in at one eare and out at another (as they say) sticketh fir­melie in the remembrance of them that heare it, whē it is craftilie couched with some subtill & merrie quippe: They haue (sayth Dauid) the venom of aspes vnder their lippes. The stinging of the aspe is allmost without any feeling, & his venim at the first breedeth a delectable kind of it­ching, through which the entrailes and hart open them selues, and receaue the poison, against which afterward there is no remedie.

5. Doe not say, such a one is a dronc­kard, allthough thou haue seen him dronck: nor, he is an adulterer, though thou haue seen him taken in that sinne; nor, that such a one is an incestuous person, because he hath beene once found in that crime: for one onely act giueth not name & title to a thing. The sunne stood stil once in behalf of Iosuas victorie; and lost his light another time [Page 417] for our Saueours death vpon the crosse: yet for all that, no man will say that the sunne is immoueable, or darksome. Noah was once dronck; and Lot ano­ther time, and withall committed hor­rible incest with his owne daughters; yet neither the one, nor the other were drunckardes: nor was the latter an in­cestuous person. So Saint Peter was not a bloud shedder, though once he shed bloud: nor a blasphemer, though once he blasphemed. To beare the na­me of a vice or a virtue, one must haue frequented the actes therof, and gotten a habit of it: so that it is an abuse of tearmes, to say, one is cholerick, becau­se we haue once seene him angrie, or a theefe, because he hath once stollen.

6. Although a man haue beene a long time vitious, yet we incurre daunger of lying, to tearme him a vitious man. Si­mon the leaper, called Marie Magdalen a sinner, because she had beene so not long before: yet lied he, for she was then no longer a sinner, but a most ho­lie and blessed penitent, and therfore our Lord himself took vpon him the defence of her cause. The presum­ptuous [Page 418] pharisey held the humble publi­can for a sinner, peraduenture for an vniust oppresser, a fornicatour, or gi­uen to some other hainous vice: but he was foulie deceaued, for when he thought so badlie of him, at that ve­rie time was he iustified. Alas seinge the goodnes of God is so great, that one moment suffizeth to obtaine and receaue his holie grace, what assuran­ce can we haue, that he, who yester­day was a sinner, remaineth a sinner to day? The day past, must not iudge the day present: nor the present, iudge the day to come: it is onelie the last day, that iudgeth all dayes. Thus we see, that we can neuer say a man is naught, without probable daunger of lying: that which we may say, in case that we must needs speak, is, that he did such a naughtie act, he liued ill such a time; he doth ill for the pre­sent: but we may drawe no conse­quence from yesterday, to this day, nor from this day, to the morrow folowing.

7. Now though we should be won­drous carefull, neuer to speak ill of [Page 419] our neighbour, yet must we take heed of the other extremitie, into which some do fall, who to auoide ill speaking, commend and speak well of vice. Yf thou meete with one that is indeed a slaunderer of his neigh­bour, doe not say, as it were excu­singe his vice, that he speaketh his minde francklie, and freelie; Of one that is notoriouslie vaine and arro­gante, say not, that he is a gallaunt courtlie gentleman: dangerous fami­liarities, must not be tearmed plaine and simple dealings; maske not diso­bedience, with the name of zeale; nor pride with the name of magnanimitie; stile not lasciuiousnesse with the ho­nest title of frindship; No, my deere Philotheus, thinck not that thou a­uoidest the vice of ill-speaking, by fauouring, flattering, and cherishing other men in their vices: but round­lie and freelie, speak ill of euill, and blame that which is blame-wor­thie, for in so doing we glorifie God; so it be done with the condi­tions folowing.

7. To reprehend another mans faultes [Page 420] and vices lawfullie, it is needfull, that it be profitable to him of whome wee speake, or to them vnto whome we speake. There be some, that recite before maydens, indiscreet priuities of such and such, which be manifestlie daungerous, others recount, some mans dissolute gestures, or wanton speeches, tending manifestlie to dishonestie; yf I should not freelie reprehend this abuse, or that I should excuse it, these tender young soules who heare it, would take thereby occasion, to giue them selues leaue to say, and to do the like. Their profit then requireth, that I rebuke such thinges freelie, before I sturre from the place, vnlesse I may prudentlie deferre this good office, to doe it with more deliberation, and lesse interest of them, of whome those things were re­counted, at an other occasion.

8. Moreouer it is requisite, that in some sort it belong vnto me to speak of that matter, as when I am one of the principall of the companie, and that yf I speake not, it would seeme that I approue their vices: But yf I be one of the meaner sort, then I must [Page 421] not vndertake to giue the sentence.

9. But aboue all it is requisite, that I be exact, and warie in my words, and not to vse one too much: as for ex­ample, yf I blame the familiaritie of this young man, and that young mai­de, and call it indiscreet and dange­rous; O God (my Philotheus) we must hold the ballance verie euen, that we make not things heauier then they be indeed, allthough it be but the waight of a graine. Yf in the fault I am to speak of, there be but only a bare appeeraunce, I will say no more then so: yf but a simple indiscretion, I will giue it no worse name; yf neither indiscretion, nor probable appeeraun­ce of ill be in the matter, sauing one­ly that some malicious spirit may ther­by take occasion to speak ill, I will say nothing at al, or onely say the same. My tōgue so long as I iudge my neigh­bour, is like a rasour in a chirurgians hands, that pretends to cut between the sinews and the veines: so the cutt that I make with my tongue in cen­suring or reprehending my neighbours actions must be so warie, that I launce [Page 422] no deeper then needs, that I speak nei­ther more nor lesse, then that which the thing it self indeed requireth. And in a word, be carefull to keep this rule, that in reprehending the vice as it deser­ueth, thou spare the person, in whome it is, as much as discretion and ciuili­tie teacheth.

10. True it is, that of infamous and notorious publique sinners, wee may speake more freelie: so that still we de­clare in our words, the spirit of charitie and compassion, without all arrogancie or presumption, nor taking delight in other folks miseries, which is always an affection proceeding from a base & abiect hart. I except allways those that are denounced to be Gods enemies and desloyall to his holie churche: for we may and ought in conscience disgrace, and debase all hereticall and schismati­call sectes, and the authours of them: it is charitie to crie against the wolfe, not only when he is among the sheep, but whensoeuer we espie him.

11. Euery one is bold to take so much licence as to censure princes, and speak ill of whole nations, according [Page 423] to the diuersitie of affections that men beare them: but thou (my Philotheus) must beware also of this defect: for be­sides that God is offended therwith, it may raise thee vp a thousand quarrels, from which thou canst not deliuer thy self, without great vnquietnes.

12. When thou chauncest to heare any man speak ill of another, procure yf thou canst, to make his accusation doubtfull: yf thou canst not doe that iustlie, endeuour to excuse the inten­tion of the partie censured: yf that cannot be done neither; shew thy com­passion toward his frailtie, cut off the discourse remembring thy selfe, and bringing the hearers in remembrance, that yf they haue not offended in that sort, that they are the more beholding to the grace of God for the same, and withall recall courteously the detra­ctour to him selfe: and lastly yf thou knowest any good of the partie detra­cted, endeuour to set it foorthe.

Other aduices and instructions to be obserued in talk. CHAPTER 30.

1. LET our talke be courteous, franck, sincere, plaine, & faith­full: without double dealing, subtiltie, or dissembling; for though it be not good alway to tell the truth in all matters, and in all occasions: yet is it neuer lawfull to speak against the truth. Accustom thy self neuer to lie wittinglie, and of set purpose, neither to excuse thy self, nor for any other cause, calling alwais to mind, that God is the God of truth. Yf thou chaunce to tell a lie, and canst handsomly cor­rect it out of hand, either by recalling it merily, or by some good explication, doe it: a true excuse, hath much more grace and force to giue satisfaction, then a lie neuer so smoothlie tolde.

2. Though sometime a man may prudently and discreetly disguise and couer the truth, by some artificiall co­lour of speeche, yet must that be vsed only in matters of importance, when [Page 425] the glorie and seruice of God manife­stly requireth it. Excepting onely those occasions, such artificiall equiuocation is daungerous, for as holy writt sayeth: the holy Ghost dwelleth not in a dissembling and double spirit: No cunning is so much to be desired as simplicitie; the wisdo­me of the worlde, and subtilitie of the fleshe, belong to the children of this world: but the children of God, walk plainely, without going awrie, their hart is free from all doublenes. He that walketh simply (sayth the wiseman) wal­keth confidently. Liyng, double dealing, & dissembling, are allways signes of a weak, and base spirit S. Austin had sayd in the 4. booke of his Confessions, that his soule, and his frinds soule, were but one soule; and that his life was te­dious vnto him after the death of his frind, because he would not liue by by halfes; and yet that for the self same cause he feared to die, least his frind should die wholly in him. These words afterward, seemed vnto him too artifi­ciall, and affected, in so much that he corrected them in the bookes of his Retractations, censuring them with a [Page 426] note of follie. Seest thou not Philo­theus, what a liuely and delicate feeling, this holy and pure soule had of curious painted speeches? Surely it is a great or­nament of a christian soule to be faith­full, plaine, and sincere in talk: I haue sayd, I will obserue and keep my wayes; that I may not offend in my tongue. Sett (ô Lord) a watch before my mouth, and a doore of strength and closenes to shutt my lippes, sayth Dauid.

3. It is an aduise of the holy king S. Lewes, to contrarie or gainsay no man, vnlesse it were either sinne or domage, to let his words passe without contra­dicting them: and by this meanes, a man may be sure to escape all quar­rels and debates. But when necessitie constraineth to oppose thy opinion against another mans, vse mildnes, warines and dexteritie, not seeking to vex his spirit, whome thou gain­sayest, nor to confound him: for nothing is gained by sharpe repre­hension, or too much stomach in contradicting.

4. The auncient sages highlie com­mended them that spake litle, which is [Page 427] to be vnderstood, not of them that speak few words, but of them that vse not many needlesse, and vnprofitable words; for in this matter of talk, we regard not so much the quantitie, as the qualitie: and in my opinion, we oughte for to flie both extreams. For to shew ones self a graue profound do­ctour, refusing to condescend to fami­liar talk, vsed in honest recreations, argueth either some distrust or disdai­ne. And on the other side, to prate al­ways, and giue neither place nor occa­sion vnto other men to speak their pleasure, smelleth either of vainglorie, or of follie and lightnes.

5. S. Lewes allowed it not for good manners, when one is in companie, to talke to anie man in secret, and in counsail, principallie at the table: least he giue some cause to suspect, that he speaketh ill of others. He that is at table (sayth he) in good companie, and hath any good and merry conceipt to say, lett him speake, that all the com­pany may heare him: yf it be any thing of importance, that he would not haue all men know, let him conceal it altogether, [Page 428] and tell it no man while the companie is not dissolued.

Of honest and commendable pa­stimes and recreations. CHAPTER 31.

1. IT is sometimes necessary to ease our spirit, and affoord it, and the bodie also, some kind of recrea­tion. S. Iohn the Euangelist (as the de­uout Cassianus reporteth) was vpon a time found by a huntsman, to haue a partrige in his hand, and to make much of it, and play with it for his passetine: the huntsman demanded wherfore he, a man of such qualitie, tooke delight in so low and base a recreation; well (sayd S. Iohn) and wherfore doest not thou carie thy bow allways bent? marrie, (quoth the huntsman.) least yf it should be always bent, it would loose his force and strength, when it should be need­full. Wonder not then at me (replied the blessed Apostle) yf I cease a litle from the rigour and attention of my spirit, to take a litle rest and recreation, that after this small ease, I may after [Page 429] employ my self more earnestlie in con­templation of higher matters. It is doubtlesse a great vice to be so rude and sauage, as nether to allowe ones self, nor to suffer any other, to enioy some kind of lawfull passerime, & recreation.

2. To take the ayre, to walke, and talk merrily and louingly together, to play on the lute, and other such instru­ments, to sing in musick, to goe a hun­ting, are recreations so honest, that to vse them well, there needs but ordi­narie prudence, which giueth euery thing, due order, place, season, and measure.

3. Those games in which the gaine gotten by them, serueth for a price and recompence of nimblenes of the bodie or industrie of the mind, as tennis, baloone, stoole bale, chesse, tables, running at the ringe, be of them selues good and lawfull: onely excesse is to be auoided either in the time employed vpon them or in the wager that is play­de for: yf too much time be spent in these disports, they are no more recrea­tion, but an occupation, not easing either bodie or mind, but weeriyng the [Page 430] one, and dulling the other. After fiue or six houres spent at chesse, who is not al­together weeried in spirit with so much attention? To play a whole afternoone at tennis, is not to recreate the bodie, but to tire it: Againe if the wager which is plaid for, be of ouergreat valew, the affections of the gamsters grow out of square: & besides it is an vniust and vn­reasonable thing, to lay great wagers vpon such slight industries, so vnprofi­table, and so litle praise-worthie. But aboue all Philotheus, take heed thou set not thy affection vpō these disports, for how lawful soeuer any recreatiō be, it is a vice to set the hart vpon it: not that thou shouldst not take pleasure in spor­tinge, for without pleasure there can be no recreation: but that thou shouldst not so place thy hart vpon these passe­times, as to be allways desirous of thē, and not to be content without them.

Of dauncing and some other passetimes which are lawfull, but dangerous withall. CHAPTER 32.

1. DANCES of their owne nature be things indifferent, & may be [Page 431] vsed either well or ill? but as they are or­dinarily vsed, they incline & leane much to the worsser side, & consequently are full of danger & perill. They are vsed by night, in darkenes, & obscuritie: & ve­rie easie it is for the works of darknes, to slipp into a subiect, so apte of it self to receaue euil accidents. The greatest part of the night is spent in thē, so that by late watching, men are faine to sleep out the mornings, and by consequence, the meanes to serue God. In a word, it is allwais follie to change the day into night, light into darknes, and good workes into fond fooleries; Eache one that cometh to daunce, bringeth with him his head brimfull of vanitie: and va­nitie is so great a dispositiō to naughtie affectiōs, & to dāgerous & reprehēsible loues, that such badde fruicts with great facilitie, are engēdered in these dances.

2. I may say of dāces (Philotheus,) as the physiciās doe of mushroms, or toad­stooles, though manie do eat thē for dainties, yet (say they) the best of thē are worth nothing: & I say likewise, that though dances are much frequēted the best of thē are not very good. They that [Page 432] will needs feede on so vnprofitable a dishe as mushroms are, procure that they be excellente well drest; yf by no meanes thou canst excuse thy self by reason of the companie in which thou art from dancing, see that thy dance be well ordered. But how must it be well ordered? with modestie, seemli­nes, and an honest intention. Eate but seldome, and in litle quantitie of mu­shroms (say the p ysitions) for yf they be oft [...]mes earen, & in great abundan­ce, be they neuer so well dressed, the quantitie of them becometh venom in the stomacke. Dance litle at a time, and verie seldome Philotheus, for other­wise thou puttest thy self in danger to affect ouer much this exercise, so peril­lous, and apt to brede such badd fruicts in the soule, as we euen now mentio­ned. Mushroms according to Pliny, being spongie, and full of wide pores, draw vnto them verie easilie, all infe­ction neere them, in so much that yf they be nigh serpents and toades, they receaue venom from them, which is the cause we call them toadstooles: Dancing sports in night-assemblies, [Page 433] do ordinarilie draw with thē these vices and sinnes, which commonly raigne in one place, quarrelles, enuie, scoffing, and wanton loue; and as these exercises doe open the pores of the bodie that vseth them, so they open the powers of the soule, and yf anie serpentine com­panion, breath into their eares some wanton or lasciuious word, or some lo­ue-toy; yf some Basiliske or Cokatrice, cast an amourous eye, an vnchast loo­ke, the hart thus opend, easilie entertai­neth these poisons. O Philotheus, these impertinent recreations are ordinarilie dangerous; they dissipate the spirit of deuotion, weaken the forces, make cha­ritie cold, and stir vp in the soule, a thousand sortes of euil affections: and therfore it is, that they are to be vsed with great discretion.

3. Aboue all, the physicians prescri­be, that after mushroms, we should drinck good wine: and I say, that after dancinge, it is behouefull to vse good and holie cōsiderations, to hinder those dangerous impressions which the vaine delight taken in dancing may haue left in our mind. Thinck then; 1. that whist [Page 434] thou wast busied in this idle exercise, manie soules did burne in hell fire for sinnes committed in dancinge, and by the occasion of the time and place, and cōpanie, and other circunstances which dācinge bringeth with it. 2. Many reli­gious, & deuout persōs at that verie time in the presence of God, did sing his hea­uenly praises, & contemplated his diui­ne goodnes. And how much more hap­pely was their time spent in praying, thē thine in dācing. 3. Whilst thou dancedst merilie, many soules deceased out of this world in great anguish & dread of con­science; manie thousand men & wemen suffered great dolours, diseases, & pangs, in their beds, in hospitals, in the streets, the goute, the grauell, burning feuers, canckers, and infinite sortes of miseries. They had thē no rest, & thou hadst then no cōpassion of thē. And thinckst thou not that one day perhaps thou shalt sigh while others dance, as thou hast now danced while others sighe? 4. Our Lord, our Ladie, the Angels, & Saints, beheld thee all the while thou dauncedst, how deerlie did they pittie thy poore soule, that was busied in so vnprofitable an en­tertainment!

5. Alas, while thou wert thus mis­pending thy goldē leasure, which might haue been farre better employed, time passed away, and death drewe nigh, and mocking (as it were) thy indiscreet passetime, inuiteth thee to his dance, in which the sighes of thy frinds shall serue for well tuned vialles, where thou shalt giue but one turne from life to death. This dance is the true passetime of mor­tal mē, for in it wee passe in a moment, from time to eternitie, of vnspeakeable ioyes, or intolerable paines: I haue sett thee downe these few considerations: God will suggest many other vnto thee to the same effect, yf thou feare him truly.

The times to sport and dance. CHAPTER 33.

1. TO sport and dāce well and law­fullie, requires that we vse thes delights for recreation of our minds, and not for any affectiō we beare to the sportes them selues; that we con­tinewe them but a short time, not till [Page 436] we be weeried and dulled therwith; that we exercise them but seldome, and not euerie day, for otherwise we turne re­creation into an occupation. But in what occasions may a man vse dancing and sportings. The iust occasions of in­differente disportes are most frequent: occasions of vnlawfull are verie rare, and such games are much more blame wor­thie and dangerous. But in one word, the lawfull time and occasiō of dancing and sporting is, when prudence and dis­cretion telleth thee, that thou mst con­discēd to giue cōtentmēt to the honest cōpanie, in which thou shalt be in con­uersation. For discreet condescendence is a braunche of charitie, and maketh indifferēt things to be meritorious, and dangerous things, to be tolerable, and taketh many times malice away from things that otherwise would be badde, which is the reason that games of ha­zard, which otherwise would be repre­hensible, are not so, when iust condes­cendence doth lead vs therunto.

2. I receaued great comfort in hart to read in the life of blessed Charles Boro maeus, the holy bishop of millan, that he [Page 437] cōdiscended vnto the Suissers in certain things, in which otherwise, he was very seuere: and that the blessed Ignatius de Loyola, being desired to play, accepted of it. S. Elizabeth of Hungarie, was wonte to sporte her self, and be presente at assemblies of passetime, without hur­te of her deuotion: which was so deeply rooted in her soule, that as the rockes about the lake of Rietta, do increase by the washing and beating of the waues; so her deuotion increased among the pōpes & vanities of the court wher vnto her high estate exposed her; These were great fires, and of such propertie, as to increase with the wind, wher as litle flames, be soone blowne out, yf we carie them not couered.

To be faithful and constant in great and small occasions. CHAPTER 34.

1. THE sacred spouse in the canti­cles sayth, that his espouse had rauished his hart with one of her eyes, and one haire of her head. Among all the exteriour parts of mans [Page 438] bodie none is more noble, for the arti­ficiallnes of the making, or the actiui­tie, then is the eye; none more base then the haire. The meaning then of the diuine spouse is, to giue vs to vnderstād, that he accepteth not onely the great works of deuout persons, but euen the smallest and least: and that to serue him well, and according to his will, is to take great care in greate and litle peeces of seruice, in lowe and in loftie things: and that equallie in both kinds, we may (as it were) robbe him of his hart.

2. Prepare thy self then (my Philo­theus) to suffer manie great afflictions, yea & martyrdome it self for our Lord: resolue thy self to giue vp vnto him, all that which thou esteemest most pre­tious whensoeuer it pleaseth him to de­maund it, father, mother, husband, wife, brother, sister, childrē, thine owne eyes, and thy life too: thy hart must be readie to yeld him vp all these things at a beck. But as long as his diuine prouidēce sen­deth thee no afflictions so sensible and heauie, that they require not thine eyes, at least giue him thy haire: I meane, suf­fer meekly and louinglie litle iniuries, [Page 439] smal offences, & pettie domages, which daylie happē vnto thee. For by such litle occasions employed for his loue, thou shalt winne his hart whollie, and make it thine owne. The headach, the tooth­ache, the rheume, a check of thy husbād or wife, the breaking of a glasse, losse of a paire of gloues, of a iewell, of a hand­kerchief, a frumpe or mock patiently borne, a litle violence offered to thy self in goinge to bedde soone, and risinge earlie to serue God, and communicate, a litle shame sustained for doinge some actions of deuotion in publique. To be brieffe, any such slight occasions of pa­tiēce & sufferāce taken & embraced for the loue of God, do infinitly please his diuine goodnesse, who for one glasse of water, hath promised & prepared heauen to his seruants. And because these occa­sions offer thē selues euery momēt, they are great instruments to heape vp spiri­tuall treasures, yf they be well imploied.

3. When I read in the life of S. Ca­therin of Siena, so manie raptes and ele­uations of her spirit, so many wise say­ings, and godly sermons made by her: I nothing doubt, but that with this faire [Page 440] eye of contemplation, she rauished the hart of her heauenly spouse. And I re­ceaue no lesse cōfort, when I find her in her fathers kitchin making the fire, tur­ning the spitt, dressing meat, kneading bread, & doinge all the low & baser offi­ces of the house, with a courage full of louing delight in her God. And I estee­me no lesse the lowlie meditatiōs which she made in the midst of thesabiect offi­ces, thē the extasies and heauēlie visions which she had so oftē; which peraduen­ture were giuen vnto her onely for re­cōpence of this humilitie & abiection. As for her meditatiōs, they were such as folowe, when she prepared meat for her father, she imagined that she prepared it for our Lord like another martha, and that her mother was in place of our blessed Ladie, and her brethrē in steed of the holie Apostles: in this sort encoura­ging her mind to serue all the court of heauen, and imploying her self most de­lightfully in such humiliatiōs, because she knew it was Gods will. I haue set downe this example, (my Philotheus) that thou mayst knowe of what impor­tance it is, to direct well all thy actions, [Page 441] be they neuer so base, to the seruice of his diuine maiestie.

4. Therfore my counsell is, that thou imitate that courageous womā whome the wise king Salomon so highlie com­mendeth: she sett her hands (as he sayth) to great, importāt, & magnificēt things: and yet disdained not to lay hold on the spindle and rock. Put thou thy hāds to great things, exercising thy self in prayer & meditatiō, in frequenting the Sacra­mēts, to engēder the loue of God in thy neighbours, & to stirre vp good inspira­tions in their soules, and in a word, to do great & excellēt good works according to thy callinge, forgette not for all that the rock, and spindle, that is the practize of lowlie actions, and humble virtues, which like small flowers growe at the foote of the crosse, as, to serue the poore, visit the sick, to haue care of thy family, with the works belonging therunto, to vse all profitable diligence, to auoide idlenes: and amidst all these actions, enterlace such deuout considerations, as S. Catherin of Siena did in her mor­tifications.

5. Great occasions of seruing God, [Page 442] present themselues but seldome, lesser occasions offer them selues euerie daye: and he that shalbe trusty in small matters, (sayth our Saueour) shalbe established ouer great things. Doe euerie thing then on the name of God, and euery thing wilbe well done: whether thou eatest or drinckest, sleepest, or wakest, be it in recreation or businesse, so that thou handle thy matters well, and hauing al­ways an eye to Gods pleasure and will, thou shalt profit much before God, dooing all these thinges, because that Gods will is that thou doe them.

That we must keep our soule iust and reasonable, in all her actions. CHAPTER 35.

1. VVE are not men, but through the vse of reason: and yet is it a rate thing to find men that are reasonnable indeed: for com­monlie self loue maketh vs swarue from reason, conducting vs vnawares, and al­most without our knowledge or fee­ling, to a thousand sort of smal; yet dan­gerous, vniust and vnreasonable actiōs; [Page 443] which like the litle foxes in the Canti­cles, roote vp the fruictfull vines; for because they are litle, mē take no great heed of them: and because they are many in number, they lett not to doe harme enough.

2. These things which now I wil reken are they not vniust, & against true rea­son? we accuse our neighbours vpon euerie light occasion, and excuse our selues in all things; wee would sell verie deer, & buy verie cheape: we desire that iustice should be exequuted in another mans house, but mercie and clemencie in our owne. Our words must be taken in good part, and yet we are captious & cauill precisely at other mens speaches. We would haue our neighbour leaue vs his goods for our monie: but is it not more reasonable, that he should keep his goods, leauing vs our monie? we are discontented with him, because he will not helpe vs to his owne in cōmoditie: is it not more reason we should reprehēd our selues, for desiring to hinder his commoditie?

3. Yf we affect one kind of exercise, we discommend all other: and controlle [Page 444] and condemne all that displeaseth vs. Yf any of our inferiours haue no great good grace in his person or actions, or that we haue a tooth against him, doe he what he wil, & doe he it neuer so wel we take it ill, & neuer cease to contri­state him, & to be always readie to cha­lenge him. Contrariwise, yf any be ac­ceptable to vs, & seeme to vs of a good grace and cariage, he can do nothing so disorderly but we will excuse it. There are many virtuous childrē whome their father and mother scarce abide to look vpon, because of some bodily imperfe­ction: and manie vicious that are their parents minions, and are cockered vp daintelie, onely for some corporall wel fauourednesse. In all things we preferre the rich before the poore, allthough they be neither of better condition, nor more virtuous: nay we preferre him that hath the gayest clothes. We will haue our owne due exactly, but others must be courteous in demāding their due of vs; we keep our ranck & place verie pre­cisely, but would haue other men hum­ble & condescend; we cōplaine easilye of others, but will heare no complaints [Page 445] of our selues: That litle which wee doe for other men, seemes in our eye & iud­gemente verie muche, but whatsoeuer seruice or good turne an other mā doth to vs, it seemes to our sighte in a maner nothinge. In a worde we are much like the partridges of Paphlagonia which are sayde to haue two harts, for to our selues & in fauour of our owne righte, we ha­ue a harte that is sweete benigne & libe­ral, but to our neighbour a harde, seuere & rigerous harte. We haue tow sorts of ballances, the one to weighe our owne cōmodities with al aduaūtage possible, the other to weighe with all disadaun­tage what we deliuer to our neighbour. And as the scripture sayeth, deceiptful lip­pes haue spokē in hart & hart, that is to saie they haue two harts, & two weights, to receiue a heauye and full weighte, to deliuer a lighte and skant weighte, is abhominable before God.

4. Philotheus obserue equallitye & iu­stice in all thy actiōs; imagine thy selfe in thy neighbours place, & him in thy­ne: & so shallt thou iudge arighte. Whē thou sellest, thinke thy selfe the buyer, & buyinge, proceede as if thou wert the [Page 446] seller, for thus thou wilt be sure to deale iustly in al the bargaines & cōtracts. All these inequallityes I confesse are lighte & binde not to restitution, because we exceede not the limittes of that rigour which we may lawfully vse in fauour of our owne righte: yet notwithstandinge they are greate defects of reason, & cha­ritie, & consequētly bynde vs to procure the amendmēte thereof especiallie sin­ce the things which we forsake in this amendment, are but meere trifles. For what doth a man leese by liuing gen­tlemanly, nobly, courteously, with a royall, free and liberall hart.

5. Let this then be thy particular care Philotheus, to examine thy hart, and see whether it be so affected towards thy neighbour, as thou wouldst haue him affected toward thee, yf thou wert in his place: for in that stands the triall of true reason. Traianus the Emperour, being blamed by his faithfull frinds, for ma­king the imperial maiestie (as it seemed to thē) too familiar & cōmon: verie well quoth he, & why should not I shew in my self being Emperour, such an affe­ction to euerie mā in particular, as I my [Page 447] self, yf I were a particular & priuate mā, would desire to find in my Emperour.

Of desires. CHAP. 36.

1. EVERY one knoweth, that he must in no sort desire any thing which is naughtie & vicious: for the desi­re of euil maketh vs euil. But I say more vnto thee, Philotheus, desire not in any case those things, which be dāgerous to the soule, as dancing, gaming, and other such pastimes; nor honours & places of charge; no nor admirable visions, nor heauenly extasies, for al these things are much subiect to vaine glorie, & deceit.

2. Desire not things which are farre of frō thee, that cānot come to passe accor­ding to thy desire, but after some long time; as many doe, who therfore do wee­rie & distract their harts vnprofitably, & put thē selues in dāger of great disquiet. Yf a yoūg mā desire much to be prouided of some great office & charge, before the time be come, to what purpose serueth this desire of his? yf a married womā de­sireth to be a nunne, to what purpose? If I desire to buy the goods of my neigh­bour, before he desire to sel thē, loose I [Page 448] not my labour in such a fruitlesse desi­re? If being sore sick, I desire to preach or to say masse, or to visit others that be sick, and performe other exercises of men that be in perfect health: be not these vaine desires, since it is not in my power to bring thē to effect? And yet be­sides this vanitie of these vnprofitable desires, they occupie the place of other better desires which I should haue, to be patient, resigned, wel mortified, ve­rie obedient, meek, and mild in aduer­sities, which is the thing that God wills that I should practize at that time; but we admitt as fond desires as wemen great with child, that long for cherries and strawberies in autumne, and for freshe grapes, in the springtime.

3. I can not approue in any sort, that men addicted to one kind of estate and vocation, should desire any other kind of life, then that which befitteth their calling, or busie them selues in exerci­ses, incompatible with their present condition: for such desires distract the hart, and altogether destroye the ne­cessarie occupations belonging to his estate. If I desire the solitarye lyfe of a [Page 449] Carthusian, I doe but lose my tyme, for these desyres occupie the tyme and pla­ce of those, which I shoulde haue for the well imployinge of my selfe in thin­ges belonginge to my presente office. No surely, I woulde not that men should be still desyringe better spiritts, better witts, better iudgements, for the­se desyres are but vayne, and onely ser­ue to hinder those thoughtes and cares which euery one should haue of better­inge those parts which God allmightye hath endued allreadye him withal. No I would not that one shoulde desyre bet­ter meanes to serue God almightye, then which allreadie he hath, but that he la­bour and endeauour to employe these well & profitallie: this in deede is to be vnderstoode of desyres that, as it were, still possesse the harte, for simple wishes if they be not too frequent, doe no harme or hinderaunce.

4. Desire not further crosses and af­flictions, but accordinge as thou haste founde thy selfe disposed and able to beare those which God allmightie hath allreadye sente thee. If a lesse iniurie we can not endure without repininge, we­re [Page 450] it not vayne and foolishe to desyre martyrdome? About obiects imagina­rye and such thinges as shal neuer come to passe, our enemye moueth to greate and magnanimious desyres, and all to the ende of euertinge vs from the con­sideration of thinges presente, wherein (how meane soeuer) we mighte exercise our selues with greate profitte, we ima­gine combatts with the terrible mon­sters of Afrique, and in the meane tyme for wante of care and heede, suffer our selues, in effecte to be vanquishte and slayne, by the poore snailes that lye in our waye.

5. Seeke not after temptations, for that were temeritye and rashnes, but prepare thy harte to expecte thē coura­geously, and to receaue them when God permittes them to come.

6. Varietye of meates (especiallie if the quantitie be greate) doe allwayes ouercharge the stomacke, yea if it be weakeouerthroweth it. Ouercharge not thou thy soule with multitude of thoughts: not worldly, for these will be thy vtter ouerthrowe, nor yet spirituall, for they will molest thee.

7. When the soule is purged, & dis­charged of her ill humours, she feeleth in her self, an earnest appetite of spiri­tuall delights, and like a hunger star­ned person, setteth her desire vpon a thousand sorts of exercises of pietie, of mortificatiō, of penaunce, of humilitie, of charitie and prayer: my Philotheus, it is a good signe to haue so good an appetite, but cōsider discreetly whether thou canst well disgest all that which thou desirest to eate. Then take aduise of thy ghostly father, which of all these many holy desires, may presently be put in execution, and make thy vttermost profit of them: And that donne, God wil giue thee other good desires, which thou maist exequute in their time and season: and so thou shalt not loose thy time in nourishing vnpossible, and vn profitable desires.

8. Yet my meaning is not, that one should reiect all good desires whatsoe­uer: but that one should endeuour dis­creetly, to produce and prosequute them, euery one in their due order: so that these good purposes, which cannot presently haue their effect, be (as it were) [Page 452] locked vp in a corner of our hart, vntill the time come in which they may be brought to yssue and practize. In the meane season, while those desires ex­pect their time, procure to effectuat those which be alreadie ripe, and in their season. And this aduise is not one­ly true in spirituall desires, but euen in wordly purposes, in which likewise yf order be not kept, they them selues can neuer liue in quiet and content­ment.

Aduertisments for those which are maried. CHAP. 37.

1. MARIAGE is a great Sacra­ment, I say in Iesus-Christ and in his churche; it is honourable to all, amongst all, and in all: that is, in all the partes and circumstances therof; to all, because euen the virgins, them selues ought to reuerence it with humilitie: amongst all, because it is equallie holy in rich, and in poore: in all, because the beginning, the end and intention, the commodities and profits, the for­me and matter of it, all are holie. Mar­riage [Page 453] is the nurserie of Christianitie, which peopleth the earth with faithfull soules, to accomplish the number of the elect in heauen: so that the conuer­sation of all the rights and lawes of the holy estate of wedlock, is most neces­sarie in the common wealth, as the spring and fountaine, of all these riuers.

2. Would to God that his most deer Sonne were inuited to all marriages, as he was to the marriage in Cana: for then the pretious wine of blessing and consolation, should neuer want: and yf in ordinarie weddings we find but a litle of that sweet wine, it is because Adonis is inuited to the wedding feast, in steed of our Saueour, and Venus in steed of our Ladie. He that would haue his lambes faire and parti-coloured as Iacobs were, must imitate his indu­strie, and present parti-coloured roddes to the ewes when they assemble to con­ceiue: and he that would enioy a hap­pie successe of his marriage, should al­ways place before his eyes the sanctitie, and excellence of this Sacrament. But alas insteed of these, ordinarilie we see [Page 454] arriue a thousand disorders in pastimes, feastinge, and vnseemly talking: and therfore no meruaile, yf the successe of their mariages be disordered.

3. Therefore I exhort all those which are in the holie estate of wedlock, that they loue one another with that mutual loue, which the holy Ghost commen­deth so much in the scripture. It is not enough to say to married folk, that they should loue one another with a naturall loue, for so do the Turtle doues: not with a humane loue, for the verie pai­nims haue wel practised that sort of loue: but I say with the great Apostle: You that are married, loue your wiues, as Iesus Christ loued his church: and you wiues loue your housbands, as the church loueth her Sauiour. It was God that brought Eue to our first father Adam, and gaue him her for his wife: it is also the self same God, who with his inuisible hand, hath tied the knot of the holie band of your marriage, and hath giuen you po­wer one ouer the other: why then should you not one cherish the other, with a holy, supernaturall, and diuine loue?

4. The first effect of this loue, is the inseparable vnion of your harts. Two peeces of firre tree glewed togeather, cleaue so fast one to the other, that you may sooner break the whole peece in any other place, then in that part in which they were glued. But God ioined man to woman in his owne bloud, for which cause this vnion is so strong, that rather the soule should forsake the bodie, then the husband be separa­ted from his wife: and vnderstand this inseparable vnion which I speak of, not onely of the bodie, but principallie of the soule, and sincere affection of the hart.

5. The second effect of this loue is inuiolable loyaltie, of the one partie to the other. In old time men vsed to en­graue their seales vpon the rings which they wore continuallie, as the holie scripture it self doth testifie: and from this custom of antiquitie may we drawe a fitt interpretation of the ce­remonie which holie Church vseth in the Sacrament of marriage. For the priest halowinge the wedding ringe, and giuing it first to the man, protesteth [Page 456] that this holy Sacrament so sealeth and closeth his hart, that neuer after the na­me or loue of anie other woman, may lawfullie enter into it, so long as she li­ueth, whome God hath giuen vnto him. And the husband presently putteth the ring vpon his wiues finger, that shee likewise may vnderstand, that her hart is now sealed and shutt vp, from loue or though of any other man, so long as he liueth, whome there our Saueour giueth vnto her.

6. The third fruit of matrimonial loue, is the lawfull generation, and the care­full education of children. It is an in explicable honour to you that are ma­ried, that God by his omnipotent po­wer, determining to multiplie reason­nable soules, which might praise him for euer, would make you as it were his feelow labourers in so worthie a wor­ke, giuing you the priuiledge & honor to engender bodies, into the which he distilles the new created soule, like ce­lestiall dropes into the bodies.

7. Conserue then, you housbands, a tender, constant, and hartie loue to­wards your wiues: for therefore was the [Page 457] woman taken from the side of man, and next his hart, that she should be beloued of him hartylie and tenderly. The infirmities of your wiues, corpo­rall or spirituall, must not prouoke you to any disdaigne or loathing of them, but rather to a sweet and louely com­passion: since God therfore created them, that depending always on you, you should therby be more honoured, & respected; and that you should haue them in such sort for your companions that neuerthelesse you should be their heads and superiours. And you, ô wo­men, loue your husbands tenderlie & hartelie, but let your loue befull of res­pect, and reuerence, for therefore did God create them of a sex more vigou­rous and predominant; therfore did he ordaine that a woman should be a por­tion of man, bone of his bone, and flesh of his flesh; and that she should be made of a ribbe of his, and taken from vnder his arme, to teache her, that she should be vnder the hand and guiding of her husband: and holy scripture verie straightly recommēdeth vnto you this subiection: which notwithstanding the [Page 458] self same scripture maketh sweet and delectable vnto you; not onely adui­sing you to accept therof with loue and affection, but prescribing also vnto your husbands, how they should exercise their authoritie and com­maund ouer you, with all patience, meeknes, and gentle sufferance: Hou­sbands (sayth Saint Peter) behaue your selues discreetlie towards your wiues, as weaker vessels, bearing them honour and respect.

8. But while I exhort you more and more to increase this holy mu­tuall loue, which you owe one to another, beware you chaunge it not into iealousie. For as wormes breed ordinarilie in the ripest and delicatest apples: so manie times it happines, that iealousie groweth from ardent and excessliue loue, betweene man and wife, and marreth and corrupteth the verie pithe and substance of the holie state of wedlock, breeding by litle and litle, troublesome braules, dissentions, and diuorcements. This iealousie hath no place where mutuall loue is grounded vpon true virtue: [Page 459] and therfore it is an infallible marke of a loue, in part at least grosse and sensuall, which hath mette with a weake and inconstante virtue, and subiect to mistrust and suspect. And it is a verie vaine boastinge of loue, to make it seeme greate, by beinge iealous: for iealousie may well be a signe of great and ardent loue, but not of pure, perfect and constant amitie: for the perfection of frind­ship and true loue, presupposeth the assured foundation of true virtue, and iealousie presupposeth the vncertaintie of the same.

9. Yf you desire, ô husbandes, that your wiues be faithfull vnto you, giue them a lesson of this loyaltie by your owne example. With what face (sayth Saint Gregory Naziazen) can you exact chastity of your wiues, when you your selues liue vncleanly? how can you require of them, that which you giue them not? Will you haue them chast in deed? behaue your selues chastly: And, (as Saint Paul sayth) let euery man, knowe how to possesse [Page 460] his owne vesselin sanctification. For yf con­trary to this doctrine of the Apostle, you your selues teach them loose behaueour, and wan­ton trickes, no meruall yf you receaue disho­nour by losse of their honesty: But you (ô wemen) whose honour and reputation is in­separably ioined with your honestie and chastitie, be tealouse (in a manner) of this your glorie, and suffer no kind of wan­tonnesse, to blemish your credit and esti­mation.

10. You that desire to haue the name and merit of chast and worthie ma­trons, flie all kind of assaultes, all man­ner of courting, be it neuer so litle: suffer not any wanton gestures nigh you: suspect him, whosoeuer he be, that commendeth your beautie, and good grace: for he that earne­stly praiseth marchandize which he is not able to buy, giues a shrewd suspicion, that he meaneth to steale it. But yf iointlie with praises of your beautie, any man discommend your husbands, detest him as one that offe­reth you hainous iniurie; for it is euident, that such a one not onely seeketh your ruine and ouerthrow, [Page 461] but accounteth you alredie half ouer­come: because we see ordinarilie, that the bargaine is half made with the second chap man, when the first displeaseth the merchant. Gentle­women, as well in time past, as now a dayes, weare manie pearles in their eares, delighted (as Plinie thought) with the prettie ratling noise which they make, in touching one another. Why they wore them I care not, I thinck verelie Isaac, that great seruant and frind of God, sent pretious earings as the first pledge of his loue, to the faire and chast Rebecca, as a mysticall ornament betokening, that the first part which a husband should take possession of in his wife, must be her eares, which his wife should loyallie keep onely for her housbands vse: to the end that no speech or rumour should en­ter therin, but onelie the sweet amia­ble sound of honest and chast wor­des, which are the orient pearls of the holy ghospell; for we must all­ways remember that which before I haue sayd, that our soules are empoi­soned [Page 462] by the eare, as the bodie by the mouthe.

11. Loue and loyaltie ioined toge­ther, cause a constant and fearlesse assurance; and therfore the Saints of God presupposing this fidelitie, haue vsed alwais most kind signes and to­kens of their mutuall loue: sweet, and louing fauours, but yet chast and honest; tender, and kind har­ted, but yet sincere, plaine, and beseeming their graue simplicitie. So Isaac and Rebecca, the chastest maried couple of old time, were seene so louinglie entertaining one another by a windeowe, that albeit no offensiue thinge passed betweene them, yet Abimelech well iudged therby, that they could not be other then man and wife. The great Saint Lewes, as rigourous to his owne fleshe, as tender in loue to his wife, was allmost blamed for too much kindnes; though in deed he rather deserued exceeding praise, for knowing how to applie his war­lik and courageous mind, to the­se small duties, requisite to the [Page 463] conseruation of coniugall loue, for although these pettie demonstra­tions, of pure and vnfained affe­ction, bind not the harts of these that loue, yet they approache them one to another, and serue for a kind of art, to keep mutuall loue in per­fection.

12. Saint Monica being with child of great Saint Augustin, de­dicated him oftentimes to Chri­stian religion, and to the true ser­uice of Gods glorie: as he him­self witnesseth, saying that he had already tasted the salt of God in his mo­there wombe. This is a notable lesson for Christian wemen, to offer vp to God the fruicts of their wom­bes, euen before they be deliuered of them, for God accepteth the offe­rings of a louing and humble sou­le; and commonly giueth good suc­cesse to those holie motions and af­fections of good mothers at that ti­me: witnesse Saint Thomas of Aquin, Saint Andrew of Fesula, and diuers others. The mother of S. Bernard (a [Page 464] worthie mother of so worthie a child so soone as her children were borne▪ took them in her armes, and offe­red them vp to our Lord Iesus Christ and from thence foorth, she loued them with such reuerence, as holy vessels committed vnto her by God; which fell out so happilie vnto her, that in the end they became Saints all seauen.

13. The children being once borne into the world, and beginning to haue the vse of reason, then ought their parents to haue an especiall care, to emprint the feare and loue of God in their tender harts. The good Queen Blaunche, performed this of­fice excellentlie well in her sonne king Lewes the Saint; for she would often times say vnto him, my dear child, I had rather farre thou shouldst dye before mine eyes, then see thee com­mitt one onely mortall sinne. Which notable saying remained so engra­ued in the soule of her royall child, that, (as he himself was woont to tell) not one day in all his life past ouer his head, wherin he did not call [Page 465] it to remembrance, taking all paines possible to put this diuine doctrine in practize. Races, and generations in our tongue are called houses, and the Hebrewes call generation of chil­dren the bwilding vp of a house; for in that sence the scripture sayth, that God builded houses for the midwi­nes of egypt: wherby we learne, that to make a good house, is not to fill it with worldlie treasures, but to bring vp children in the feare of God, and exercise of virtues, wherin no paines nor trauaile is to be spared, for chil­dren are the father and mothers glo­rie. So Saint Monica with great con­stancie and perseuerance, straue against the badde inclinations of her sonn Saint Augustin: for hauing folo­wed him by sea and by land, she made him more happily, the child of teares by conuersion of his soule, then he had beene the childe of her bloud, by generation of his bo­die.

14. Saint Paul leaueth to wemen the care of their houshold, as their dutie and office: for which cause [Page 466] manie are of this opinion, that the deuotion of the wife, is much more profitable to her familie, then the virtue of her husband; because he, being not so ordinarilie within dores, cannot so easilie and continuallie in­struct his folk in virtue: and ther­fore Salomon in his prouerbes, ma­keth the happines of the whole hous­hold; to depend of the industrie and care of that valourous and coura­geous woman, whome there he des­cribeth.

15. It is written in Genesis, that Isaac seeing his wise Rebecca barren, prayed to God for her, or according to the Hebrew text, prayed our Lord ouer against her; because he prayed on one side of their oratorie, and she on the other: and the prayer of her housband made in this manner, was heard. The greatest and fruictful­lest vnion between man and wife, is that which is made in deuotion, to which one should exhort the other most earnestlie. Some fruicts for their sowernesse are not much wor­the, vnlesse they be conserued as quin­ces; [Page 467] others because of their tendernes cannot be long be kept, vnlesse they be preserued, as cherries and aprie­cocks: So wemen should wishe that their husbands were preserued and comfited with the sugar of deuotion; without which man is sower, bittter, and intollerable; And the husbands should procure that their wiues did ex­cell in deuotion, because without it the woman is fraile, and subiect to fall and wither away in virtue. Saint Paul sayth: that the vnbeleeuing man is san­ctified by the faithfull woman, and the vnbeleeuing woman by the faithfull man: because in this straight bond of we­dlock, the one may easilie draw the other to virtue; but what a blessing is it, when the faithfull man and wife, do sanctifie one another in the true feare of God.

16. To conclude the mutuall sup­porting of one another ought to be so great, that they should neuer be both at once angrie, or moued on the sodaine. Bees cannot rest in pla­ces where ecchoes or redoublings [Page 468] of voices are heard: nor can the holie Ghost certainlie remaine in that hou­se, in which strife, and debate, chiding and scolding, and redoubled braulings vse to be. Saint Gregorie Nazianzen witnesseth, that in his time married persons, kept the anniuersarie day of their matrimonie holie and festiuall: and I could wishe that good custom were put in practize in these dayes, so that it were not with worldly and sen­suall demonstratiōs of exteriour myrth, but that the housband and wife confes­singe and communicatinge that day, should recōmend vnto God with more then ordinarie feruour, the constant quiet of their marriage, renewing their good purposes to sanctifie their state by mutuall loue and loyaltie, taking breath in our Lord, to support the bet­ter the charge of their vocation.

Of the honestie and chastitie of the mar­riage-bed. CHAP. 38.

THE marriage-bed, ought to be immaculate as the Apostle saith, that is to say, exempt from all vn­cleanlinesse [Page 469] and profane filthines: ther­fore was marriage first instituted and ordained in the earthly paradise, where vntill that time had neuer been felt any extraordinarie concupiscence. There is some likenes between dishonest plea­sure, and vnmannerlie eating: for both of them regard the flesh, though the first for the brutall heate therof, is sim­plie called carnall. I will declare by the one, that which I would haue vnder­stood of the other.

1. Eating is ordained, for the conser­uation of them that eate: as then to eate, preserue, and nourish the bodie, is absolutelie good, and commenda­ble: so also that which is requisite in marriage for generation of children, & multiplication, is good and holie, being one of the cheefest ends of marriage.

2. To eate, not for conseruation of life, but for mainteining of mutuall loue and amitie which we owe one to another, is a thing verie iust and ho­nest: and in the same sort, the mutuall and lawfull satisfaction of the parties ioined in holie marriage, is called by Saint Paule, debt, and dutie; but so [Page 470] great a debt and dutie, that he per­mitteth neither partie to exempt them selues from it, without free and voluntarie consent of the other; no not for the exercises of deuotiō (which is the cause of that which hath been sayd in the chapter of holy commu­nion) how much lesse then may either partie exempt them selues from this debt, for anger, disdaine, or fanta­sticall pretenses.

3. As they that eate for mutuall conuersation, doe it freelie, and not as it were by force, but rather in outward appeeraunce, at least wise giue shew of an appetite to their meate: so the mariage debt should alway be payed and performed fran­ckly, faithfullie, as it were with hope and desire of children, albeit for some occasion there were no subiecte of such hope.

4. To eate, not for the two for­mer reasons, but only to content the appetite, is tollerable, but not commendable: because the onely plea­sure of the sensuall appetite, cannot be a sufficient obiect, to make an [Page 471] action worthie of commendation: yt is enough that it be tolerable. To eate not only for our appetite, but with excesse also and disorderlie, deser­ueth blame more, or lesse, according as the excesse is great or litle.

5. The excesse in eating consisteth not in the quantitie onely, but in the manner also of eatinge. It is straunge (my Philotheus) that honnie being so wholsome, and so proper a food to the Bees, that yet sometimes they become sick by it, as when in the spring time they eat to much of it, it ingendreth in thē the flux of the bellie, and sometimes it killes them with out remedie, as when they are behonnied with it about their head and wings. Certainlie the act of marriage, is holie, iust, commendable, & profitable to common weale: yet not­withstanding in some case it is daunge­rous; for sometimes it infecteth the foule with veniall sinne, as it chaunceth by a meere and simple excesse; and sometime it killeth the soule by mor­tall sinne, as it falleth out, when the naturall order appointed for ge­neration of children is peruerted; [Page 472] in which as one swarueth more or lesse from the order of nature, so are the sinnes more or lesse execrable, but al­ways mortall. For because procreation of children is the principall end of marriage, one many neuer lawfullie depart from the order which it requi­reth, though for some accident, it cannot at that time be performed; as it falleth out, when barrennesse, or being great which child alreadie, do hinder the generation. For in these accidents the act of marriage doth not cease to be holie and iust, so that the rules of generation be kept: no acci­dent whatsoeuer being able to preiu­dice the law, that the principall end of marriage prescribeth. The execrable act committed by Onan in his mar­riage, was detestable before God, as the holie text of the 38. chapter of Genesis doth testifie: although certai­ne hereticks of our dayes, a hundred times more worthie to be condemned, then the ancient Cynicks (of whome Saint Hierom speaketh vpon the epi­stle to the Hebres) made God to say, that it was the peruerse intention of [Page 473] that naughtie man which displeased God: wheras the scripture sayth other­wise, and assureth vs in particular, that the thinge or act it selfe, was abomi­nable in the sight of God.

6. It is a true mark of a scadle, gree­die, and beastly mind, to thinck ear­nestlie of meat, before the time of repast: much more when after meales one pawseth and delighteth in the pleasure he took in eatinge, enter­taining it in thought and word, and reuoluing in his mind the remembran­ce of the sensuall delight he receaued in swallowing downe his morsells; as they doe, who before dinner haue their minde on the spitte, and after dinner in the dishes; men worthie to be the skullions of a kitchin, who make a God of their bellie, as Saint Paul saith. Those which be well and mannerlie brought vp, thinck of the table, but euen when they are readie to sit downe; and after dinner washe their hands and mouthe, to loose both sauour and smell of that which they haue eaten. The Elephant is but a grosse beast, yet most worthie of all the rest, and which aboundeth [Page 474] most in sense: I will tell you a point of his honestie: he neuer changeth his mate, and loueth her tenderlie whome he hath chosen, with who­me notwithstanding he coupleth not, but from three yeers to three yeares, and that onelie for fiue dayes, and so secretlie, that he is neuer seene in the act: but the sixt day he sheweth him self abroad againe, and the first thing he doeth, is to goe directlie to some riuer and washe his bodie, not wil­ling to returne to his troupe of com­panions, till he be purified. Be not these goodlie and honest qualities in a beast? by which he teacheth mar­ried folk not to be giuen to much to sensuall and carnall pleasures, which according to their vocation they ha­ue exercised: but the vse being pas­sed, to washe their hart and affection from it, and purge them selues of it, that afterward with all libertie, and freedome of mind, they may exercise other actions more pure and of grea­ter valew. In this aduise consisteth the perfect practize of that excellent doctrine of Saint Paul, giuen vnto [Page 475] the Corinthians: The time is short (sayth he) it remaineth that they who haue wiues, be as though they had them not. For according to Saint Gregorie, he hath a wife as though he had her not, who in taking corporall plea­sure with her, is not for all that, hin­dered and disturbed from spirituall ex­ercises, and what is sayd of the man, is to be vnderstood of the woman: that they that vse this world (sayth the same Apostle) be as though they vsed it not. Let euerie one then vse this world according to his calling, but yet in such sort, that he engage not his affe­ction too deeplie therin: but remaine still as free and as readie to serue God, as yf they vsed not the world at all. It is great hurt to a man (sayth Saint Austin) to desire the enioying of those things, which he should onely vse, and to vse those things which he should onely enioy: we should enioy spirituall things, and onely vse corpo­rall things: for when their vse is tur­ned into enioying, our reasonable soule is conuerted into a sauage and beastlie soule. I thinck I haue sayd all that I [Page 476] would say, without speaking of that, of which I would not say.

Instructions for widdowes. CHAPTER 39.

SAINT Paule instructeth all pre­lats in the person of his deere scholer Timothie, saying: Ho­nour those widowes which are widowes in­deed. To be a widowe indeed, these things are required.

1. That not onely she be a widow in bodie, but in hart also; that she be resolued with an inuiolable purpose, to keep her self in the estate of chast widowhood. For those which are wi­dowes but onely while they expect mar­riage, are not separated from husbands but onely in respect of bodily pleasure, for they be alreadie ioined to them in hart and will. But yf the true widow, to confirme her selfe in the state of wi­dowhood, will offer vnto God her bodie, and chastitie by vowe, she shall adde a great ornament to her widow­hood, [Page 477] and make her resolution secure. for since that after her vow she is no more in her owne power, and cannot leaue her chastitie without forgoing her part in paradise; she wilbe more zealous of her designement, and suffer not so much as one litle thought of marriage to stay in her hart, no not the space of one onely moment: So that this sacred vowe, will put a strong bul­warck between her soule, and all man­ner of thoughts, that are contrarie to her holy resolution. Saint Austin coun­selleth this vow verie earnestlie to a Christian widow, and the ancient and learned Origen goeth much farther: for he exhorteth maried wemen to propose and vow chastitie of widowhood, in case their housbands should die before them: that among the sensuall pleasu­res which they may haue in their wed­lock; they may enioy the merit of chast widowhood, by this promise and vow made before hand. The vow maketh the work more acceptable vnto God, fortifieth the will to do it more coura­geously, and giueth to God, not onely the good works, which are the fruicts [Page 478] of our will, but dedicateth likewise vnto him our will it self, as the root and tree of all our actions. By simple chastitie we lend our bodie to God, retaining notwithstanding our libertie, to subiect it when we list to sensuall pleasure: but by the vowe of chastitie we make him an absolute and irreuo­cable present of our bodie, without reseruing to our self anie possibilitie to goe back from our word; rendring our selues happie slaues vnto him, who­se bondage is better then all royalties. As I approue the aduise of these two great personages, so could I wishe, that those soules which are so happie, as to folow them, would doe it pru­dently, holily and soundlie, hauing well examined their forces, and in­uoked the grace of God, and taking the counsell of some wise and deuout directour: for so all will prosper the better.

2. Besides it is necessarie that the abrenunciation of second marriage, be made purely and simplie, to con­uert all our affections vnto God more loyallie, and to make our hart cleaue [Page 479] vnto Gods hart on euery side: for yf the desire to leaue her children rich, or any other worldly respect, do keep the widow in widowhood, she may deserue praise and commendation per­haps, but not before God: since in Gods sight nothing is trulie praisewor­thy, but that which is done for honour and reuerence of his diuine maiestie.

3. Likewise a true widow must be vo­luntarilie abstracted from all prophane contentments: for the widowe which li­ueth deliciously, sayth S. Paule, is dead in her life time. She that wilbe a widowe, & yet delights to be courted, embraced, made much of, and takes pleasure in dauncing, and feasting, desiring perfu­mes, tricking and trimming her self, is a widow aliue in bodie, but dead in soule. What auaileth it whether the image of Adonis, or prophane loue, which han­geth for a signe before the dore of fleshly delight, be painted with good­lie flowers and plumes round about it, or the face thereof be couered with a nett, or a cypres? For so doubt­lesse not without much vanitie some times, black morning apparell serues, [Page 480] to make her beautie more apparent: the widdow hauing made triall of that wherin women do please men most, casteth more dangerous baites into their minds. The widow then which liueth in these fond delights, is dead being aliue, and is nothing els, to speak properlie, but an idoll of widow­hood.

4. The time of pruning is at hand, the voice of the turtle doue hath been heard in our land, saith the holie Ghost in the Canticles. All men that will liue deuou­tlie, must prune and shaue away all worldly superfluities: but especiallie is this needfull to true widowes, who like Turtle doues, come freshelie from be­wailing & lamenting the losse of their deer husbands. When Noemy returned from Moab to Bethlehem, the wemen of the towne, who had knowne her when she was first married, sayd one to another, is not this Noemy? but she answered: call me not Noemy, I pray you (for Noemy signifieth comely and wel-fauoured) but call me Mara, for our Lord hath filled my soule with bitter­nes; which she sayd because her hus­band [Page 481] was dead. Euen so the deuout wi­dowe will neuer be termed or esteemed faire and beautifull, contenting her self to be such as it pleaseth God she be.

5. Lampes that are fedwith sweet oyle, cast a sweeter smell when they are blowne out: and widowes, whose liues were pure and laudable during their wedlock, powre out a sweeter odour and virtue of chastirie, when theire light (that is their husbands) is put out and extinguished by death. To loue their husbands being aliue is an ordina­rie thing amongst wemen: but to loue them so well, as to take no other after their death and departure, is a loue which pertaineth onely to true wido­wes. To hope in God, so long as the husband is a liue, and setueth for a pil­lar to support his wife, is not a thing so rare to be seene: but to hope in God when she is destitute of so great a prop­pe and stay of her life, is indeed worthie of commendations. This is the reason that one may with greater facilitie know in widowhood the perfection of virtues, then one could haue done in the state of marriage.

6. The widow that hath children which stand in need of her assistance & bringing vp, principallie in matters be­longing to their soules health, and esta­blishing of their course of life; cannot, nor ought in anie wise abandon them: for the Apostle S. Paule sayth clearlie, that they are obliged to take that care of them, which they them selues had before experienced in their fathers and mothers: and that yf anie haue not care of his owne familie, he is worse then an infidel. But yf her children be in state, that they stand no more in need of her guiding, then should she gather to gea­ther all her thoughts, and imploy them whollie to enrich her hart with the pure and holie loue of God.

7. Yf meere constraint bind not the conscience of the widow to outward, affaires, as processes, and such like, I counsel her to auoide them altogether, and to to vse that order in menaging her affaires, which is most peaceable, and recollected, although it seeme not so gainfull. For the profits gotten by contentions and troublesome labour, must be verie great indeed, to recom­pence [Page 483] the benefit of a quiet life: be­sides that wrangling pleas and processe do distract the hart, and oft times open a gate to the enemies of chastitie: while to please them, whose fauour they need, they are faine manie times to vse demeanure and behaueour displeasing to God.

8. Prayer must be the widowes con­tinuall exercise: for she must now loue nothing but God: she must vse almost no words but for Gods sake. And as the iron which by the presence of the Diamant was hindered from fo­lowing the Loadstone, leapes after it so soone as the Diamant is remoued away: so the chast widowes hart which could not easilie giue it self whollie to folowe Gods holie inspirations, during the life of her husband, should imme­diatly after his death, runne with ardent affection after the sweet odours, and celestiall perfumes of her Lord, saying with the sacred spouse, O Lord, now that I am all mine owne, receaue me altogether, drawe me after thee, and I will runne after the sweet smell of thy ointments.

9. Virtues peculiar to Christian wid­dowes are, perfect modestie, neglect of honors, ranckes, places, titles, and such like vanities; to serue the poore, visit the sick, comfort the afflicted, instruct young maydens, and encline them to affect pietie and deuotiō, and in a word to yeald them selues a perfect patterne all virtues: to the younger woemen, cleanlines, and honest simplicitie, must be the two ornaments of theire habits, humilite and charitie, must adorne theire actions, honestie and curtesie, must grace theire speech, modestie and shamfastnes, must beautifie theire eies, and Christ Iesus crucified, must be the only loue of theire harts. In summe, the true widdowe, is in the Catholique Church, as it were a fresh sweete violet in the month of March, which sendes abroad from the flagrant odor of hir deuotion, an incomparable suauitie, and yet almost couers & hides hir selfe, with the great leaues of her humilitie and voluntarie abiection, betokning by her dark pale colour, her exercises of mortification: she is vsually found in fresh coole places, and vnmanured [Page 485] plots of ground, and will not be bla­sted with the hott noysome ayre of the worldes conuersation, the better to conserue the pleasaunt freshnes of her soule, against all inordinat heates, which the desire of riches, of honor, and dangerous loues, might breede in her hart. She shall be blessed, saith the holy Apostle, if she perseuer in this sort.

10. I haue many other thinges to say of this matter, but I haue said enough, and all, when I said, that the widdow zealous of the honor of her estate, reade attentiuely the excel­lent Epistles, which great Saint Hie­rom wrote to Furia, Saluia, and all those other Dames, which were so happie, as to be the ghostlie children of that holy Father; for nothing can be added vnto that which he sayeth, but only this admonition; that a true widdow, should neuer blame those that marrie the second time, nay though they marrie, the third, and fourth time; for in some cases, God almightie so disposeth it for his greater glorie. One must alwayes haue his [Page 486] eies vpon this doctrin of our holie forefathers, that nether widdowhood, nor virginitie, haue any other place in heauen, but that which true humi­litie doth allot and assigne them.

A word or two to Virgins. CHAPTER 40.

1. OVIRGINS, I haue only these three wordes to say vnto you, for the rest that is requisit, you shall find else where. If you intend, and thinke vpon temporall mariage, be sure to keepe your first loue, inuio­lably for your first husband. In my iudgement, it is egregious cosenage and deceit, to present in steed of an entyre, and sound hart, a worne, bru­sed, and loue vanquisht hart. But if thy happie lot haue ordayned thee, for thy chast spirituall Spouse, for whom thou meanest to preserue perpetually thy virginitie, good God, how pre­ciselie, carefully, and tenderlie, ough­test thou to preserue thy first loue [Page 487] for him, who being puritie it selfe, is delighted with nothing so much as with puritie, to whom are due the first fruites of all thinges, but prin­cipally of our loue? Reade Saint Hie­roms Epistles, there thou shalt finde sufficient precepts and rules, tou­ching this matter. And seeing that thine estate and condition of life, hath made thee subiect to obedience, choose a guide and master, vnder whose con­duct and direction, thou maist with greatest sanctitie and integritie, de­dicate thy body and soule, to the worship and seruice of almightie God.

THE FOVRTH PART OF THE INTRODVCTION, Containing necessary instru­ctions, against those tentations which are most ordinarily in­cident, to those that endeuour to liue spiritually.

That we must not regard the scoffes and mocking taunts of the children of this world. CHAPTER. I.

1. SO soone as the childrē of this world shall perceaue that thou resoluest to lead a spirituall life, they will discharge vpon thee as thick as hayle, all their vaine babling and false surmises. Those that are most malicious among them, wil calumniat [Page 2] and misconstrue thy change attributing it to dissembling policie, or hypocrisie; the world frownes vpon him say they, and because he cannot thriue that way, he betakes him self to God; thy frinds will euen break their heads and weery their tongues to make thee a world of exhortations, and wise and charitable aduices as they imagin: Thou wilt fale into some melancholie humour (wil they say) by this new course of life; thou wilt leese thy credit and estimation in the world, and make thy self intolerable & distastful to all thy acquaintāce; thou wilt wax olde before thy time, thy do­mesticall affaires wil go to wrack: a man must liue in the world, as one in the world: our saluation may be obtained, and heauen gained without these myste­ries and secrets; and a thousand such li­ke inuentions as these shalt thou heare.

2 My Philotheus, all this councell of these, is but a fond and vaine pratling. These men tender neither thy health, nor wealth, nor honour. Yf you were of the world (sayth our blessed Sauiour) the world would loue that which were his: but because you are not of the world, therfore the [Page 3] world hateth you. We haue seene often enough, gentlemen and gay ladies, pas­se many a whole night, nay manie nights together, at cardes, and chesse: and is there any attention more melancholy, sullen, and troublesom then that? and yet worldlings that mark it, say neuer a word of it, and their frinds neuer trouble them selues therfore; and for meditating but one short hower, or ri­sing in the morning a litle earlier then ordinarie, to prepare our selues to com­munion: euerie one runnes to the phy­sician, as if it were needfull we should be purged from hypochondriac hu­mours, or the iaunders. They wil make no difficultie to spend thirtie or fortie nights in dauncing, and no man of them wil complaine of it as of losse of time: yet only for watching deuoutly on Christmas night, euery one coffeth next morning, and complaineth of the rheume. VVho seeth not heere that the world is an vniust iudge, fauorable and partiall to his owne children, sharpe and rigourous to the children of God?

2. VVe shall neuer be well in peace with the world, vnlesse, we cast our sel­ues [Page 4] away with it for companie: it is impossible for vs to content it, it is too much out of square; For Iohn came nei­ther eating, nor drinking (saith our redee­mer) and they say, the diued is in him: The Sonne of man came eating and drincking, and they say, behold a glutton and a wine-bibber. Most true it is, Philotheus, yf we should condescend with the world, and giue our selues a litle, to iest, to laugh, to daunce, and disport, it would be scanda­lized at vs: yf we do not so, it will accu­se vs of hypocrisie or melancholy. Let vs make our selues braue, and the world will constre it to some bad end: goe ne­gligently and carelesly attired, and the world will count vs base minded; our myrth in the worlds eye is dissolution, our mortification sullennes: and loo­king thus vpon vs with an angrie eye, we can neuer be acceptable to it. It ag­grauateth our imperfections, publis­hing them for sinnes; of our veniall sin­nes it maketh mortall: those which we committ through frailtie,, it says we doe them for malice. Where as charity is benigne (as S. Paul sayeth) the worlde is malicious; where charitie thinketh not [Page 5] ill of any, the world on the other side thinketh no good, but alwayes ill: and not being able to calūniat our actiōs, it will accuse our intentions: so that haue the poore sheepe hornes or no, be they white or black, the wolfe for all that refuseth not to deuoure them, yf he can.

3. Doe what we can, the world will still wage warre against vs: yf we be lōg at Confession, it will wonder what we are so long about: yf we stay but a while, it will say we haue not told all, we haue concealed the worst. It wil warily spie and prie into our gestures and behaueour, and yf it finde out but one litle word of choler, cast out at vn­awares, it will protest solemnely, that we are altogether vnsufferable. If we be diligent in looking to our affaires, it termes vs couetous: yf mild and patient, it calls it meere simplicitie: But as for the children of the world, their choler is generositie, their auarice is good hus­bandrie, their conspiracies are honora­ble courtesies: thus still the Spiders marre the poore Bees labours.

4. Let vs therfore giue this blind buz­zard [Page] leaue (Philotheus) to cry as long as he list, and screech like a night­owle to disquiet the birds of the day: but let vs in our selues be constant in our purposes, and no changelings in our dissignes: our perseuerance will cleerly demonstrate, whether in sooth and in good earnest, we haue sacrificed our sel­ues to God, and setled our selues in the ranck of those, that meane to liue de­uoutly. Comets, and Planets are almost of an equall brightnes in appearaunce; but comets, or blazing starres do quick­ly vanish away, being onely certaine firy vapours, which are in short time con­sumed; wheras planets, or true starres, haue a perpetuall and euerlasting bri­ghtnes. So hypocrisie and true virtue haue great resemblāce in outward shew, but one may knowe the one from the o­ther: because hypocrisie lasteth not lōg, but vanishelh soone like smoke, ascen­ding vp a litle way into the ayre; but true virtu is allway constant and dura­ble. It is no small commoditie, no litle scouritie, and fortifiyng of the begin­ing of our deuotion, to suffer reproa­ches, and calumniations: for by those [Page 7] meanes we auoid the dāger of pride, and vaine glorie, which are like the cruell midwiues of Egypt, appointed by the in­fernall Pharao, to kill the children of the Israelits, the very day of their birth, We are crucified in opiniō of the world, let the world becrucified in ours: it ac­counteth vs for fooles, let vs esteeme the world for mad and sencelesse.

That we must haue continually a good and manfull courage. CHAPITRE 2.

1. THIS light of the day though it be most beautifull and dele­ctable to our eyes, doth dazel them not withstanding, after they haue been shutt vp in long darknes. Before we be accustomed and familiar with the inhabitants of any strange countrie. let them be neuer so courteous and frindlie, yet we find our selues amongst them as half amazed. It may be my Phi­lotheus, that after this change of life, diuers alterations wil arise in thy hart: and that this great and generall farwell which thou hast bidden to the follies [Page 8] and vanities of the world, will stirre in thee some sadnes and discouragement. Yf it happen so, let me win [...] so much at thy hands, as to haue a litle patience: for it will come to nothing, it is but a litle astonishement which the noueltie of another life bringeth vnto thee; let that passe ouer, and thou shalt receaue mil­lions of consolations.

2. It will trouble thee in thy begin­ning (it may be) to forsake that pompe and glorie, which fooles and mockers giue thee, accoūting thee happie in thy vanities: but wouldst thou for that vai­ne estimation, loose the euerlasting glory, which God infalliblie will giue thee? The fond trifles and pa­stimes in which thou hast employed thy fore-passed yeares, will represent them selues againe to thy hart, to al­lure it, and to cause it to come vnto their side: but caust thou haue the hart, to hazard the losse of blessed e­ternitie, for such transitorie toyes and pleasures? Beleeue me, Philotheus, yf thou perseuer constantly, ere long thou wilt feele such cordiall swee­tnes, so pleasaunt and delicious, that [Page 9] thou wilt confesse, that the world affoordeth nothing else but bitter gaul­le, in comparison of that most sweete and delectable hunny; and that one only day of deuotion, is better worth, then a thousand yeares of worldly de­lights.

3. I but thou seest, that the moun­taine of Christian perfection is excee­ding high; and o my God (sayst thou) how shall I be able to clime vp so high? Courage Philotheus, when the lit­le young bees be ginne to take shape and forme, we call them grubbes, and at that time they cannot flie vp and downe vpon the sweete flowers, nor on the thymie mountaines, nor lit­le bushie hilles, to gather honny, but by litle and litlte, feeding vpon the honny which their dammes prepare for them, these litle grubbes or impes, beginn to haue wings, and to streng­then them selues, so that after they flie vp and downe all the countrie in theire honnie-quest. True it is, that as yet we be but litle grubbes in deuotion and that we are not able, to soare vppe so highe, as our desire [Page 10] would haue vs, which is euen no higher, then to the highest top of Christian perfection; yet notwithstan­ding we begin to grow into forme and fashion, to take some spirituall shape vpon vs, by good desires and constant resolutions folowed and secōded by di­ligent performance, our wings begin to grow: so that we may well hope one day to be spirituall Bees, & that we shall flie freely in searche of the honnie­sweet pleasures of God: in the meane time, let vs liue vpon the honny of so many godly instructions, as ancient de­uout persons haue left vnto vs: and let vs pray vnto God to giue vs the wings of a doue, that we may not only flie for the time of this present life, but espe­cially repose our selues in the eternitie of the life to come.

The nature of tentations, and the diffe­rence between feeling them, and consenting to them. CHAPTER 3.

1. IMAGIN a young princesse (my Philotheus) greatly beloued of her husband: and that some trai­trous vilaine to winne her, and defile her marriage bed, sendeth to her some infamous pandar, with a loue-message, to treat with her about his disloyall in­tent, first this noughtie pandar, pro­poseth vnto the princesse, the intent of his maister: secondly the princes taketh the embassage in good, or euil part: thirdly she either consenteth, or refu­seth. Euen so the diuel, the world, and the flesh, perceauing the soule of man espoused to the Sonne of God, do send their temptations and suggestions vnto her, by the which first, sinne is propoun­ded vnto her: secondly, she either is de­lighted, or displeased with the sinfull motion: and thirdly, she either admit­teth [Page 12] it by consent, or reiecteth and casteth it away from her: which are in summe, the three steppes or staires by which we descend to wickednes, sug­gestion, or temptation, delight, and consent. And though these three acts, are not so manifestly knowne and dis­cerned in other kinds of sinnes, yet are they palpablie seene, in all greate and enormous sinnes.

2. Though the tentation of any sinne that is, should endure all our life long, it would not make vs vngratefull to his diuine maiestie, so that it please vs not, so that we take no delight in it, nor giue any consent vnto it. And the reason is, because in the tentation there passeth no morall action of ours, but we only suffer it: and so taking no pleasure in it, we cā be in no fault for it. S. Paule a lōg time suffered the tentations of the flesh, and yet was so far from displeasing God therefore, that contrarie wise God este­med him self glorified thereby. The B. S. Angela de Fulgino, felt such vehemēt tentations of the flesh, that she moueth to compassion when she recounteth them; great likewise were the tempta­tions [Page 13] which S. Francis, and S. Benet suffered, when the one cast him selfe na­ked into the thornes, and the other into the snow, to mitigate them: yet lost they not for all that, any whit of the grace of God, but rather augmented it.

3. Thou must be valiaunt then and courageous (my Philotheus, (amid ten­tations, and neuer hold thy self for van­quished, so long as thou findest that the tētation displeaseth thee Obserue well the difference, between hauing, and consenting to tentation; which is, that we may haue, or feele them, though they vtterly dislike and displease vs; but we can neuer consent vnto them, vnlesse they please vs, since pleasure ordinarilie serueth as a steppe to con­sent. Let then the enemies of our saluation, present vnto vs as many bittes and baites as euer they will; let them alway stand watching at the dore of our hart to get in; let them make vs as many offers, and proffers, as they list: but yet so long as we haue a true purpose and strōg resolution, to ta­ke no manner of pleasure in them, it is not possible that we shoulde [Page 14] offend God, no more then the Prince, husband to the princesse before men­tioned, can beare her any ill will or dis­pleasure, for the noughtie message sent vnto her, yf she haue taken no delight or pleasure in it. Yet ther is a difference between the soule and this princesse, that the princesse hauing once vnderstood this dishonest errand, may yf she list, driue away the messēger and heare him no more: which is not alwayes in the power of the soule, for she cānot choose but feel the tentation, though it be al­ways in her power not to consent to it; for which cause, although the tentation should perseuer neuer so long time, yet can it not hurt or defile vs, so long as it disliketh and displeaseth vs.

4. But as for the delight which may folow the temptation, because the­re are two parts or portions of our sou­le, the one inferiour, and the other su­periour; and the inferiour or sensualitie foloweth not always the superiour, or reasonable portion, but keeps house apart (as it were:) it falleth out oft times that the inferiour part taketh delight in the tentation whout the consent; nay [Page 15] against the will of the superiour. This is the quarrel, and battaile which the Apostle S. Paule describeth, when he sayeth, that his flesh rebelled against his spirit, that there is one law of the members, or bodie, and another of the spirit, and such other things.

5. Hast thou not seene (Philotheus) a great burning firebrand, couered with ashes and imbers? when one cometh ten or twelue houres after to seek for fi­re, he finds but a litle in the middest of the hearth, and some times hath much a doe to find any. Yet there was fire there all the while, for other wise he could now haue found none at all: and with that litle that he found, he may kindle all the other dead coales and brād-ends; The self same passeth in cha­ritie, (which is the spirituall fire of our soule) amid many great and violent ten­tations. For tentation darting her de­light into the lower portion, couereth all the soule (as it seemeth) with ashes, and bringeth the loue of God to such a straight, as yf it had rome onely (as men say) to stand a tiptoe: for it ap­peareth not at all any where, sauing only [Page 16] in the middest of the hart, in the very bottom and center of the spirit; and yet seemeth scarce to be there, and we haue much a doe to find and perceaue it. Notwithstanding without all doubt it remaines there, since how so euer we fee­le our selues troubled in soule & bodie, yet we find in our hart, a setled resolu­tion not to consent to sinne, not tenta­tion; and the delight which pleaseth our outward man, or sensualitie, displea­seth and disliketh the inward, or reaso­nable will, so that though it be round about it, like the cenders about the coale, yet is it not within it; wherby we may plainly see, that such delight is in­voluntary, and altogether contrary, to our will, and can therfore be no sinne at all.

Two firt examples of the forsayd matter. CHAPTER. 4.

1. IT concerneth thee so neere to vn­derstand this difference well, that I wil not spare to spend a litle [Page 17] more time and discource to declare it more at large. That younge man (of whome S. Hierom speaketh in tho life of S. Paule the first hermit) being bound with delicat scarfes of silk, and lodged in a soft bed, and prouoked by all sorts of lasciuious touches and wan­ton allurements, by a beautifull harlot, that lay with him of set purpose, to o­uerthrow his constant chastitie: what strange motions of his flesh did he fee­le? needs must it be, that his sences were affaulted with excessiue delight, and his imaginatiō extremly battailled with the presēce of these voluptuous obiects. Yet not withstading amōgest so many trou­bles, in the middest of such a terrible storme of tēptatiōs: he testified sufficiēt­ly, that his hart was not ouercome, that his will (though roūd about besett with such pleasures) cōsented not at all vnto thē, since his spirit perceauing so gene­rall a rebellion against it, and hauing no other part of the bodie at cōmandemēt but the tongue, he bitt it off with his teeth, & spirt it in the face of that nau­ghtiepack, which more cruellie tormē ­ted him with vnlawfull pleasures, thē the [Page 18] hang-man could euer haue done with most horrible tourments: for therfore the tyrant, mistrusting to ouercome him by pangs, thought to surmount his con­stancy by pleasures.

2. The historie of the battail which S. Catherin of Siena in like manner suf­fered, is most admirable, the summe wherof foloweth. The diuel had per­mission from God almightie, to assault the chastitie of this virgin, with the greatest rage that he could, with this exception, that he should not touche her. Then did the fiend erect a batterie of all kind of vnchast suggestiōs against her hart; and to moue her the more, coming with his damnable companiōs in forme of men and women, made a thousand formes of carnall inticements in her sight, adioining words and ge­stures most dishonest and filthie. And allthough all these fleshly engins, were only exteriourly presented, neuerthe­lesse by ministery of the sences, they pearced to the verie hart of the distres­sed virgin: which (as she her self con­fessed) was euen brimfull of these dange­rous suggestions, nothing els in her re­maining [Page 19] free, but only her superiour will, which was not shaken with all these thunderinge ordenance of lasci­uious, and carnall tentations: which lasted very long, till on a day our Lord appeared vnto her, and she sayd vnto him: where wert thou, my sweet Lord, when my hart was full of so great dark­nes, and vncleannes? wherto he an­swered. I was, my deer daughter, in thy hart. In my hart (replied she) and how couldest thou dwell in a hart where there was so much vncleanes? or canst thou that art cleannesse it self, abide in place of dishonestie? And our Lord an­swered. Tell me, when these vncleane thoughts troubled thee, did they make thee merrie, or sorie? did they produce in thy hart sweetnes, or bitternes? most extreme bitternes and sorow, sayd she. who was it then (sayd our Lord) that put this exceeding bitternes and sorow in thy hart, but I, that lay there couertly and hidden in thy soule? Beleeue me (my daughter) had I not been there pre­sent, these hellishe engins that were planted round about thy hart, and with all their batterie could not make one [Page 20] breach into it, would doubtlesse haue surprized it and entred at their pleasure, they would haue been admitted, and re­ceaued with delight, by consent of thy free will, and so haue giuen the deaths wound to thy soule. But because I was within, I armed thy hart with a bitter dislike of these dishonest imaginations, and placed that strong resistance in thy soule, by which she refused the tētation, as much as she could; and not being a­ble as much as she would, conceaued a vehemēt displeasure and hatred against the tentation, and against her selfe; and so these pangs and aflictions, were verie meritorious, and a great gaine for thee, and an exceeding increase of thy virtue.

3. Seest thou Philotheus, how this fire was couered with ashes in this holy soule? and that the tentation and delight was alreadie entred into the hart, and had compassed and besieged the will? which only asisted by her Sauiours gra­ce, resisted by a bitter detestation of these wicked and lawlesse pleasures, all the batterie that was presented vnto it, refusing alway to giue consent to the sinfull suggestions, with which it was [Page 21] so dāgerously and vniuersally enuiron­ned. O what distresse is it to a soule that loueth God, not so much as to knowe whether he be in her or no? or wether the heauenly fore of charitie for which she fighteth, be altogether ex­tinguished in her or no? but this is the flower and perfection of the heauenly loue, to make the louer to suffer and to fighte for loue, not knowing whether he haue within him that loue, for which and by which, he continueth valiantly fighting.

An encouragement to the soule vexed with temptation. CHAPTER 5.

1. MY Philotheus, God neuer permitteth these vehemēt tē ­tations to arise, but onely a­gainst such soules, which he meanes to extoll, and promote to the dignitie of his pure and excellent loue. But it foloweth not therfore, that, after these tentations, they shalbe sure to attaine to this diuiue loue: for it hap­peneth oft times, that soules which [Page 22] haue been cōstant in such violent com­bats, afterward not corresponding with the heauenly fauours of God, haue been vanquished and ouerthrowne with verie smale tentations. This I say, to the end that yf euer it chaunce to thee to be af­flicted with such dreadfull and horrible tentatations, that thou vnderstand therby, that God fauoureth thee with an extra­ordinarie signe of his loue, by which he designeth to exalt thee in his presence, and make thee great in his familiaritie and frindship. Yet neuerthelesse, be thou alway humble and fearfull to of­fend, not assuring thy self that thou art able to ouercome the least tētatiōs that are, after thou hast preuailed against great ones, sauing onely by continuall fidelitie and loyaltie towards his maie­stie.

2. VVhat temptations so euer then do arriue vnto thee, and what delight so euer ensew of that temptation: so long as thy wil refuseth to giue her consent, both to the tentation, and to the delight folowing it, trouble not thy self, God is not offended with thee. When one fal­leth into asound, so that there appeer [Page 23] no more signes of life in him, men vsually lay their hands on his hart, and at the least motion that they feele in his hart, they iudge him yet to retain life, and by some pretious liquour or resto­ratiue, make him come againe to him self, and recall him to his sence and feeling. So doth it chaunce whē through the violence of tentations, our soule seemeth as it were fallen into a sound, and into an vtter decay of all her spiri­tuall forces, life and motion: but yf we wil know in what state she is, let vs lay our hand on our hart; let vs consider yf the hart and will doe yet retaine their spirituall motion: that is, yf they do their endeour to refuse all consent to the tentation and delight therof: for so long as this motion of refusall is with in our hart, we may be assured, that cha­ritie, the life of our soule, remaineth yet in vs, and that Iesus Christ our Sauiour is there present, though hidden, and se­cretly: so that by vertue of continuall prayer, and vse of the sacraments and of confidence in Gods grace, we shall re­couer our forces, and liue a sound, heal­thie, and delectable life.

How tentation and delectation may be sinne. CHAPTER 6.

1. THE princesse of whome we spake right now, could not hinder the dishonest demaund made vnto her, because, as we presup­posed it came to her vnawares, and a­gainst her will: but yf on the other side, she should by some wanton glaunces giue occasion to be requested, by tho­se secret or carelesse tokens, declaring her self not vnwilling, of rendring loue to him that should court her: then doubtlesse were she culpable of the message it selfe: and though she shew her self neuer so quaint and coy, she should for all that, deserue blame and punishment. So chaunceth it many ti­mes, that the very tentation it self is a sinne in vs, because we our selues wil­lingly are the cause of it, for example. I know that in gaming I fall easilie to rage & blasphemie, & that gaming is to [Page 25] me, as it were a tentation to those sin­nes: I sinne therfore as often, and as many times as I play at that game, and am guiltie of the tentation which then­ce ariseth. Againe, yf I know certainly that such a conuersation, is ordina­rie a cause of tentation and fall vnto me, and yet notwithstanding do wil­lingly go to it, I am accessarie to al the tentations which doe ensew from thence.

2. When the delight which procee­deth from the tentation maye be auoi­ded, it is always sinne to receaue it: according as the pleasure which we re­ceaue, and as the consent which we gi­ue vnto it, is great or litle, long or short in durance: So it is always re­prehensible in the young princesse of whom we spake, yf she do not onely harken vnto the lasciuious and disho­nest demaund, which is made vnto her: but withal, after that she hath heard it, taketh pleasure in it, entertaining her thought with some delight about this obiect. For although she will not consent to the real execution of the disloyaltie motioned to her: she con­senteth [Page 26] not withstanding to the men­tall appliyng of her hart, to the con­tentment which she taketh in the naughtie suggestion; And it is all­way a dishonest acte, to applie ei­ther mind or bodie, vnto any dis­honest obiect: nay dishonestie con­sisteth in such sort in the application of the mind, that without it, the ap­pliyng of the bodie, were no sinne at all.

3. So then, when thou shalt be tempted in any sinne, consider whether thou hast willingly giuen occasion to be so tempted: for then the verie tentation it selfe, putteth thee in sta­te of sinne, by reason of the ha­zard wherin thou hast wittingly cast thy self, which is to be vnderstood, when thou mightest commodiouslie haue auoided the occasion; and that thou didst foresee, or wert bound to forsee, that in such an occasion, such a temptation would arise. But yf thou hast giuen no occasion at all to the tentation which impugneth thee: it cannot in any sort be imputed vnto thee for a sinne.

4. When the delight folowing the tē ­tation might baue been shunned, & yet we eschew it not, there is allwaye some kind of sinne, according to the litle or long continuance in it, and according to the cause of delight takē in it. A wo­man that hath giuen no occasion to be courted, but yet taketh pleasure ther­in, letteth not to be blameworthie, though the pleasure which she affected, haue no other cause or motiue, but only the courting. For example, yf her gallant play excellent wel on the lute, and she delighteth, not in that he seeketh her loue, but in the harmonie & sweetnes of his lute; there is no sinne in that delight: yet must she not conti­new long in it, least she easilie passe frō it, to delight in being wooed. So yf any bodie prepoūd to me some stratageme ful of inuētion & cunning, to make me compasse a full reuenge vpon mine enemie: yf I take no delight, nor giue any consent to the desire or purpo­se of reuenge which is motioned vnto me, but only in the slight and subtil art of the engin, or inuen­tion, without doubt I sinne not at all: [Page 28] though it be not expedient to stay long in this delight, for feare least by litle, and litle, it carie to some delectation of the reuenge proposed.

5. We find our selues sometimes ouertaken and surprized with some tic­kling of delight, immediatly after the tentation is presented vnto vs, before we haue well considered the qualitie and danger therof: and this delight is but a small veniall sinne, though it wax greater and greater, yf after we percea­ue the danger we are in, we stay, negli­gently dalliyng, and as it were coping and cheapning with the delight, whe­ther we should admitt it, or reiect it; and yet more, yf we negligently stay in it, after we perceaue the pe­rill, without any purpose at all litle or great to cast it away out of our hart: but when as voluntarilie, and of full purpose we resolue to take content­ment in that delight, that deliberat pur­pose is a great sinne, yf the obiect of the delight be verie naught. It is a great vice in a woman, yf she be willing in her hart to entertaine naughtie dishonest loues, allthough she do [Page 29] not in effect abandon her self to her louers.

Remedies against great and ve­hement tentations. CHAPTER 7.

1. AS soone as thou findest thy self in any tentation, doe as litle children are woont when they see a wolfe or a beare in the field: for presently they runne and throwe themselues into their father or mothers armes, or at least wise call vpon them for helpe and succour. Runne thou in like manner vnto God, crie vpon his mercie, craue his assistance, it is the remedie which our Saueour him self taught vs saying, pray, least you enter into tentation.

2. Yf neuerthelesse the tentation continew, or increase, then hastely run­ne in spirit to the crosse of our blessed faueour Iesus imagining thou seest him hanging theron before thy face, and embrace the foot of the crosse vpō thy knees laying fast hold vpon it, as vpon [Page 30] an assured sanctuarie, and protest that thou wilt neuer consent to the tempta­tion, aske our Saueour ayde against it, and continew alway this protesting, that thou wilt neuer giue consent, so long as the temptatiō lasteth. But while thou makest these earnest & harty pro­restations, & refusalls of consent, look not the tēptatiō in the face, thinck not on it as nigh as thou cāst: but look on­ly vpon our blessed Lord on the roode: for yf thou behold & cōsider the tēpta­tion, principally when it is vehemēt, or carnall, it may shake & vndermine thy courage, and weaken thy constancy before thou art aware. Diuert thy thoughts with some good and com­mendable exercises, for such occupa­tions, entering, and taking place in thy hart, will chace away the tentations, & malicious suggestions, and leaue no roome in thy hart to belodged in.

3. The sound & soueraigue remedie against all tentations, be they neuer so great, is to vnfold our conscience, dis­play & lay opē the suggestiōs, feelings, & affects which arise in our minds, to manifest thē & their occasiōs to our spi­rituall [Page 31] directour. For note this well, that the first cōditiō that the diuel would ma­ke with a soule whom he would invei­gle & deceaue, is to cōceale the tētatiō: as they which would allure any maides or wemē to their vnlawful desires, at the verie first abourding, warne them to say nothing of their motions & desires to their parēts or housbāds; where as God on the other side in his inspiratiōs aboue & before althings willeth, that we pro­cure them to be examined by our supe­riours, and conductours of our soules.

4. Yf after all this, the tentation ob­stinately vex and persequute vs, we must do nothing els, but shew our selues constant, and perseuer in protesting from our harts, that we do not, and will not consent; for as maides can neuer be married, so long as they say no: so the soule, be she neuer so much tormented with tentation, can neuer be hurt or defiled, so long as vnfainedly she sayeth no.

5. Dispute not with thy enemie, dis­course not with his suggestions, ans­wer him not one only worde, vnlesse it be sometimes that, which our blessed [Page 32] Lord answerd him, and wherwith he confounded him: Go thy way Sathan, for it is written, The Lord thy God shalt thou adore, and him only shalt thou serue. As a chast matron should nor answer on word, nor look once on the face of that naughtie person that should soli­cit her to dishonestie, but cutting of short from his loue-retorick, should presentlie, and at the same instant, turne her thoughts and affections to­wards her housband, and protest a new the loyaltie which she oweth vnto him, and neuer stay one iont to dallie or parlie, or enterchaunge langaage with the lasciuious suiter: so the de­uour soule assaulted with any tenta­tion, should by no meanes busie her self in discourcing, or considering, or answering it, but sincerely and that in­stantly, turne her thoughts to her Lord Iesus Christ, her deere spouse, and make a new protestation and pro­mise of loyaltie to him, that she wil­be his only and wholly for euer.

That we must diligently resist, euen the least tentations that are. CHAPTER 8.

1. ALLTHOVGH we must fight most carefully against great & violent tentations with an in­uincible courage, & the victorie gai­ned against them be exceeding profita­ble vnto vs: yet peraduenture we may profit more in resisting tētations of les­lesser moment: for as great temptations exceed in qualitie, so the lesser infinitly exceed in number, in so much that the conquest of them, may be compared to the victorie ouer the greater and vio­lenter tentations. Wolues & Beares be without all question, more dangerous then flies and gnattes: yet do they not vex and disquiet vs so importunly, nor exercise our patience so often. It is an easie thing to abstaine from murther, but harde to auoide small cholericke passions, & the ordinarie occasions of anger which are presented to vs almost euery moment. It is easie for a man or a woman to refraine frō cōmitting actual [Page 34] adulterie, but not so easie to abstaine from wāton lookes, from giuing or re­ceauing loue toyes, frō procuring fond fauours, frō speaking & hearing words, of vanitie. It is not verie hard, not to admitt a corriual or companion in loue between housband and wife, and to re­fuse, consent of bodily disloyaltie in that kind, but not so easie to keep this disloyaltie from entrie to the hart, and desire. Verie easie is it for a mā to cōtei­ne himself frō stealing other mēs goods but hard, not so much as to couet or wishe them. Easie is it not to beare false witnes in iudgement, but not so easie to refraine from lies in conuersation; verie easie not to be drunk, but hard to be virtuously sober & temperate; verie easie not to desire anothers death, but hard not to desire at least some harme and discōmoditie to him. It is no great difficultie to withhold our selues from defaming our aduersarie, but hard to withhold dispraising him. In a word these litle temptations of choler, of sus­pitions, of iealousie, of enuie, of loue­tricks, of iests & vanities, of craftie and double dealing, of wanton and vnchast [Page 35] thoughts, are things in which the patiēce and cōstancie of those that are most de­uout & resolute in gods seruice, is most cōtinuallie tried and exercised. We must therefore prepare our selues (my deer Philotheus) with as great diligence as may be, to this spirituall cōbat: & assure our selues, that as manie victories as we shall winne ouer these petie enemies & slight tentatiōs, so manie pretious gem­mes shalbe placed in the crowne of glo­rie, which God prepareth for vs in para­dise. Therefore yf we meane to fight va­liātly against greater tētatiōs that besige vs, we must practize euerie day to resist & rebutt, these weaker assaults of ordina­rie tēptations when they come vpon vs.

Remedies against these lesser tempta­tions. CHAP. 9.

1. VVELL then, cōcerning these small tētations of vainglo­rie, suspition, fretting, iea­lousie, enuie, loue-fancies, and such like trashe, which like flies and gnattes do trouble our eyes, and sometimes bite and sting vs by the face; because it is impossible to be altogether exempted [Page 36] and freed from their importunitie: the best resistance that we can make them, is not to vex our selues for them: for they cānot hurt vs, though they trouble vs a litle: so that we be throughly resol­ued to serue God entirely.

2. Despise then these pettie assaults, and vouchsafe not so much as to thinck vpon that which they propose, or would incline thee vnto: let them buzze about thine eares as much as they will, and runne round about thee heer and there as flies vse to doe, but when they begin to sting, and make some abode in thy hart, thē do nothing els but quietlie re­moue thē and brush them frō thēce, not fighting against thē, nor parlying with them, but producing some contrarie acts whatsoeuer; but especially acts of the loue of God.

3. For yf thou wilt beleeue me, striue not to eagrelie to oppose manie acts of the contrarie virtue, to the importu­nitie of any tentation which thou fee­lest (for that were to parlie and dispute with it, which before we forbad thee to doe) but hauing made an act of the virtue directly contrarie to the tenta­tion [Page 37] which impugneth thee (yf thou hast had leasure to suruay the qualitie of the temptation) take thy recourse presently vnto the hart of Iesus Christ crucified, and with an act of feruent loue to him, kisse his blessed feet. This is the best meanes to conquer and tame our enemie as well in litle as in great tentations; for the loue of God contai­neth in it self the perfectiōs of all other virtues, and that farre more excellently, then the virtues them selues do con­taine them: and therfore is a more soue­raigne counter-poison against all vices; And thy soule accustoming in all ten­tations, to haue recourse vnto this vni­uersall remedie, need not examin what particular tentations it suffereth, but simplie feeling her self troubled with anie, will find quiet and ease in this ge­nerall refuge: which besides is so dread­full and terrible to our ghostly enemie, that when he once hath experience, that all his tentations prouoke vs to this di­uine loue of our redeemer, he will cease from battering vs with them. And thus much concerning lesser tem­ptations: for he that should ende­uour [Page 38] to fight with them one by one, shoud put him self to much care, with no profit.

How to strengthen our hart against temptations. CHAP. 10.

1. CONSIDER from time to time what passions do raigne in thy soule, and hauing discouered them, begin a manner and course of life cleane opposite and contrarie vnto them in thought, word, and deed. For example, yf thou find thy self inclined to the passion of self loue and vainglorie: thinck often vpon the miserie of this mortall life of ours; how bitter these vanities wilbe to our conscience at the howre of our death; how vncomly they be for a noble and generous hart; that they are but trifles, and babies for litle children to play withall, and such other considerations as these. Speak also ear­nestly and often against vainglorie, all­though it seeme thou speakest against thy will, dispraise it to the vttermost of thy power: for so thou shalt in a man­ner [Page 39] engage thy owne reputation to flie from that in deed, which thou so much condemnest in words: and many times by much speaking against a thing, we moue our selues to hate and despise it, though at the first we bare it affection. Exercise works of humilitie and abie­ctiō as much as thou canst, euen against thy owne inclination, for so thou shalt quickly get a habit of humilitie, and weaken the vice of vainglorie in such sort, that when the temptation assaileth thee, thy inclination wilbe now no more able to take part with the temp­tation, and thy soule will haue more strength to resist it.

2. Yf thou art inclined to couetous­nesse, thinck often vpon the extreme follie, and madnes of this vice, which rendreth vs slaues to that drosse which was created to serue vs; thinck how at our death we must leaue all, and that perhaps in the hands of them, that will scatter it as carelessely, as we had carefully scraped it together; and perchaunce in their hands, to whome it wilbe cause of their vtter ruine and damnation. Speak much against [Page 40] auarice, and praise the contempt of worldlie pelfe. Enforce thy self often times to giue almes, and to put in vre the acts of charitie, and works of mer­cie, and accustome some times to omitt some occasions of gaine and commoditie.

3. So yf thou be subiect to the pas­sion of idle and carnall loue, thinck how dangerous a follie it is, as well to thy self, as to others whome thy fan­cie may bring to be companions of thy perills. Consider what an vnseemlie thing it is, to abuse and (as a man may say) prophane the noblest affection of our soule, in such vaine employ­ments; how subiect this passion is to blame of the wiser sort, and how pre­gnant a token of extreme lightnes of vnderstanding. Talk often in praise of chast behaueour, let thy discources be still in commendation of cleane and pure soules: and as much as is possible, endeuour to auoide all light behaueour and all tricks and toyes of fond loue.

4. To be breef, in time of peace and rest, that is when the temptations of those sinnes to which thou art most [Page 41] subiect, do not trouble thee, then ex­ercise all the acts of the contrary virtues thou canst, and yf occasions of doing them, present not them selues, find meanes to meet with the occasions, for so will thy hart be strengthened and ar­med against future temptations.

Of vnquietnes of mind. CHAPTER 11.

1. VNQVIETNES is not a simple and single temptation, but a source and spring from when­ce many other temptations take their beginning: I will speak a word or two therof. Sadnes is nothing els but a grief and sorow of mind, conceiued for some ill or damage, which is in vs against our will: whether this euil be outward, as pouertie, sicknes, contempt: or in­ward, as ignorance, lack of deuotion, repugnance, temptation. For when the soule feeleth her self charged and burdened with any euil, she is aggree­ued therat, and there enters sadnes into her: and presently she desireth to be de­liuered and freed frō it: and not with out [Page 42] good reason: for euery thing naturally desireth that which is good, and flieth from that which is knowen or supposed to be euil. Yf the soule seek out meanes to be freed from the euil which oppres­seth her, and to be rid from the burden of it for Gods loue, she will seek those meanes with patience, sweetnes, humi­litie, and repose of mind, expecting her deliuery more from the prouidence and goodnes of God, then from her owne industrie, labour, and diligence. But yf she desire to be eased from her vexation for self loue, then will she torment and weerie, and trouble her self in seeking the meanes of her ease: as though it depended more of her self, then of God. I say not that she thincketh or iudgeth so, but that she behaueth her self so carefullie, so ha­stelie, & so earnestlie, as yf indeed she thought so. So that yf she meet not with that which she desireth, presentlie and out of hand, then falleth she into great vnquietnes, and impatience; by which the former vexation or euil, not departing from her, but rather waxing farre worse, she entreth into [Page 43] anguish, distresse, faintnes of hart, and losse of all courage: so that she iudgeth and deemeth her miserie to be past all remedie. Where thou seest, that sadnes, which had a iust and lawfull beginning grounded vpon rea­sonable considerations, afterward en­gendreth vnquietnes, and vnquiet­nesse againe, addeth an increase of sadnes, which is exceeding peril­lous.

2. This vnquietnes of mind, is the greatest ill that can come to the sou­le, excepting sinne. For as the sedi­tions and ciuil discords of a common wealth, is the vtter ruine and ouer­throw therof, and maketh it altoge­ther vnable to resist the forraigne in­uader: so our hart troubled and dis­quieted in it self, looseth all for­ce and abilitie, to defend the virtues which it had purchased, and all mea­nes to resist the tentations of the ghostlie enemie; who at that time vseth all kind of diuices and inuen­tions, knowing that according to the prouerbe it is, good fishing in trou­bled water.

3. Vnquietnes proceedeth of a inor­dinate desire to be deliuered from the euil that one feeleth, or to obtaine the good that one desireth: and yet nothing maketh the euil worse, nor remoueth the good farther from vs, then doth vn­quietnes and vnreasonable hastines. Birds do remaine fast in the nets and lime-twigges, because finding them selues but a litle caught hold of, they beat and flutter vp and downe so eagre­ly, that they are more and more entan­gled in the snare. When thou desirest earnestly to be freed from any euil, or to obtaine any good; the first thing thou must doe, is to repose thy mind, and quiet thy thoughts and affects from ouer-hastie poursuite of thy desire: and then faire and softly beginne to pour­chase thy wishe, taking by order, and one after another, the meanes which thou iudgest cōuenient to the attaining therof. And when I say faire and softly, I doe not meane slowly and negligētly, but without post-hast, without trouble and vnquietnes: otherwise insteed of at­taining to the effect of thy desire, thou wilt be more entangled in this laby­rinthe [Page 45] of troublsom thoughts, then before.

4. My soule is allway in my hands ô Lord: and I haue not forgotten thy law; sayd Dauid. Examin often euery day, at least morning & euening, whether thy soule be in thy hands, or some passion of vn­quietnes hath robbed thee of it. Con­sider whether thou haue thy hart at commandement, whether it be not escaped and fled away from thee, to some vnrulie affection of loue, hatred, enuie, couetousnes, feare, ioye, sadnes: and yf it be wandred astray, seek it out presently, and bring it back again gen­tlie to the presence of God, resigning it with all thy affections and desires vnto the obedience and direction of his diuine pleasure. For as they that feare least they lose a thing which they loue well, keep it fast clasped in their hands: so in imitation of this great king we should always say from our harts: O my God my soule is in con­tinuall danger of being lost, and there­fore I carie it always in my hand, and for this diligent care of my soule, I haue not forgotten thy holie lawe.

5. Permitt not thy desires, be they neuer so litle, and of neuer so small im­portance, to disquiet thy mind: for after litle desires, come great ones, and find thy hart more readie and disposed to be troubled and put out of order. When thou perceauest vnquietnes to enter, commend thy self to God, and resolue thy self to doe nothing at all, that thy vehement desire exhorteth, vntill that disquiet be ouerpassed: vnlesse it be some thing that cannot be differred: and then thou must with a gentle an quiet endeuour, withhold the current of thy affection, tempering and moderating it as much as is possible: and after this repose, doe that which is requisite to be done, not as thy desire commandeth, but as reason prescribeth.

9. If thou cāst discouer the vnquiet­nes of thy mind to him that gouerneth thy soule, or at the least to some trustie and deuout frind: doubt not but pre­sently thou shalt find it appeased. For communicating of griefs of our hart, worketh the same effect in the troubled soule, that letting of bloud doth in the bodie of him that is in a cōtinuall ague: [Page 47] and this is the remedie of remedies. So holy king Lewis gaue this councell to his sonne: If thou feelest in thy hart any thing that troubleth thee, tell it presently vnto thy confessour, or vnto some good frind, and thou shalt beare thy greef verie easily, through the com­fort that he will giue thee.

Of sadnesse. CHAP. 12.

1. SADNES that is according to God (sayth S. Paul) worketh penaunce vnto saluation: but sadnes of the world worketh death. Sorow then and sadnes, may be good or bad, according to the sundrie effects which it worketh in vs. True it is, that it produceth more naught then good: for it hath but onely two that are commendable, mercy, and penaunce; and six bad ones: anxietie, sloth, indignation, iealosie, enuie, and impatience: which caused the wiseman to say. Sorrow killeth many, and there is no proffit in it: because for two profitable streames which flow from the spring of sadnes, there are six other stark naught, that runne from the same head.

2. The enemie vseth sadnes as a fit disposition to exercise his temptations against the iust; for as he endeuours to make the wicked ioyous and glad in their sinnes; so doth he go about, to make deuout persons, sad and heauie in their good actions. And as he can by no meanes procure euil to be commit­ted, but by making it seeme pleasaunt and delectable, so he cannot withdraw men frō doing that which is good, but by making it appeer distastfull, sad, and displeasing. He taketh delight in sad­nes, because he him self is sad and me­lancholick, and so shalbe eternally: therfore would he haue euery one be like him self in sorow.

3. This preposterous sadnes, trou­bleth the mind, putteth it into disquiet, assaulteth it with vnreasonable feares, giueth a bitter tast to the sweetest de­uotions, dulleth and ouerthroweth the braine, depriueth the soule of resolu­tion, iudgement, and courage. To be short, it is like a hard winter, that cutteth away all the beautie of the field, and swalloweth all liuing creatures: for [...] bannisheth all sweetnes from the [Page 25] soule, and lameth her in the vse of her powers and faculties. Yf thou chaunce to be assailed with this daungerous hea­uinesse, Philotheus, practize the reme­dies ensewing.

4. Is any body sad (sayth S. Iames) let him pray. Prayer is a soueraigne reme­die: for it lifteth vp the soule vnto God, who is our onlie ioye and consolation: but when thou prayest in sadnesse and sorow, vse affections and words which tend to confidence and loue of God, as: O mercifull father, most bountifull and pitifull God, my sweet Saueour; O God of my hart, my ioye, my hope, my deer spouse, the welbe-loued of my soule, & such like.

5. Striue manfullie against the incli­nations of sorowe: allthough all thy actions and exercises, during the time of this sad passiō, seeme vnto thee to be perfourmed coldlie, heauilie, and slack­lie: omitt them not for all that: for the enemie who pretendeth to wearie vs from doing well by sadnesse, seeing that notwithstanding this deuice of his, yet we folow our woonted exercises, and that being performed against all this [Page 50] repugnance of heauie passiōs, our wor­kes are of greater valew and merit: he leaueth to afflict vs any more therwith.

6. Sing spirituall songs somtimes; for the deuil hath often times left of his troublesome operatiō by such meanes: witnesse the bad spirit that obsessed Saul, whose violence was repressed by Dauids melodious & sacred Psalmodie.

7. It is also good to diuert our thou­ghts by externall occupations; varied and chaunged as much as we can: that so our mind may be withdrawen from the sad obiect, and the spirits be hea­ted and purified, sadnes being a pas­sion of a cold and drie complexion.

8. Exercise many externall actions with feruour, although it be without gust or spirituall feeling: embracing a crucifix, and appliyng it straightly to thy brest, kissing the feet and hands of it with reuerence, stretching thy eyes and hands vnto heauen, lifting vp thy voice vnto God by words of loue and confidence, such as folow: My welbe­loued is myne, and I am his: My welbeloued is vnto me a posy of myrrhe, he shall remaine betwixt my breasts. Mine eyes do melt into [Page 51] teares vnto thee O my God saying, when wilt thou comfort me? O Iesus, be Iesus to me: liue sweet Iesus in my soule, and my soule will liue in thee. Who can separate me from the loue of God? and such like.

9. Moderate disciplines are not amis­se. Because this volūtary afflictiō applied outwardly, obtaineth inward cōsolation frō God: & the soule feeling paine with­out, diuerteth her self frō thincking of those which molest her within. Frequē ­ting also of the holy cōmunion is an ex­cellēt cordial: for that heauēly bread strē ­gtheneth the hart, & reioiceth the spirit.

10. Discouer all feelings, affects and suggestiōs which proceed frō this spirit of sadnes, manifest them sincerely and faithfullie to thy guide and confessour: seek the companie of spirituall persons, and be with thē as much as thou canst, during the time of thy sadnes. And last of all, resigne thy self vp to the hands of God, preparing thy self to suffer this heauinesse and sorow patiently, as a iust punishment of thy vaine myrrhe and passetimes: and doubt not at all, but that God, after he hath tried thee, will de­liuer thee from this euil.

Of spirituall and sensible consolations, and how one must behaue him self in them. CHAP. 13.

1. GOD cōtinueth and gouerneth this great world in a perpetuall vicissitude or enterchaunge of night into day, spring into sommer, sommer into autumne, autumne into winter, and winter into the springtime againe: & one day is neuer in all things and points like to another: some are clowdie, some bright-shining, some ray­nie, some drie, some windie, some still & louelie. A varietie is this, which giueth exceeding beautie to the whole world. The like is with man, who, according to the saying of the auncient sages, is an abridgmēt of the world, or another litle world: for he also is neuer in the same estate, his life passeth like waters ebbing and flowing in a perpetuall diuersitie of motions, which some time lift him vp by hope, some time beare him downe with feare: some time carie him to the right hand with cōsolations, some time wafte him to the left hand with affli­ctions: [Page 29] & not one day, no not so much as one onely hower of all his life, is in all points like another.

2. This is a necessarie aduertisement which I set thee downe: we must do our best to haue a continuall and in­uincible indifferencie and equalitie of hart, amid this wonderfull inequalitie of occurrences. And albeit all things do chaunge and turne giddilie round about vs, yet must we stand stedfastlie and vnmoueablie, always looking and aspiring towards our God. Let the ship take what route it list, let it single towards east, or weast, north, or south, what wind soeuer driueth it, neuer will the compasse look any other way, but towards the faire pole-starre. Let all turne vpside downe, not onlie round about vs, but euen within vs, let our soule be sorowfull, or ioyfull, let it be in peace, or trouble, in sweetnes or bitternesse, in light, or in darknes, in tentation, or in repose, in tast, or out of tast, deuout, or vndeuout, let the sunne burne and scorche it, or the deaw moisten and refresh it: yet always must the point of our hart, our spirit, [Page 54] our superiour will, which is our card or cōpasse, look incessauntly, & tend con­tinuallie, towards the loue of God her Creatour, her Sauiour, & her onely hap­pines and soueraigne good. Whether we liue or dye (sayth the Apostle) we belong to God. And who shalbe able to separate vs from the loue of God? nothing shalbe able to dissolue and vndoe this loue, neither tribulatiō, not distresse, nor anguish, nor death, nor life; nor present, nor future dolours, nor the feare of imminent dan­gers, nor the subtiltie of malicious spi­rits, nor the sublimitie of consolations, nor the depth or profunditie of affli­ctiōs, nor the tendernes, nor drinesse of hart, nor any other thing shall separate vs from this holy charitie, founded and grounded in our Saueour Christ Iesus.

3. This absolute and perfect resolu­tion, neuer to forsake God, or aban­don his sweet loue, serueth for a coun­terpoise to our soules, to keep them in holie indifferencie, amidst the in equa­litie & diuersitie of motiōs & chaunges which the cōditiō of this life bringeth. For as the litle Bees ouertaken with a storme in the fields, charge them selues [Page 55] with litle grauel stones, to ballaūce thē selues in the ayre, that they may not so easilie be caried away by the wind: so our soule by a liuely resolution embracing the pretious loue of God, continueth constant in the midst of the inconstan­cie and mutabilitie of consolations and afflictions, spirituall & temporall, inte­riour and exteriour. But besides this ge­nerall doctrine, wee stand in need of some particular documents.

4. First then, I say that deuotiō consi­steth not in that same sweetnes, softnes, comfort, or sensible tendernes of hart, which moueth vs to teares & sighes, and giueth vs a certaine delicious tast, and a kind of contēt & satisfactiō in our spiri­tuall exercises. No (my deer Philotheus) deuotiō, & that māner of tendernes of hart, is not al one thing. For manie sou­les haue this supple qualitie, & those sen­sible consolations, which for all that let not to be verie vicious, & consequently want the true loue of God, and haue no true deuotion at all. Saule persequuting poor Dauid to the death, who fled from him into the wildernes of Engaddi, en­tred all alone into a vast caue, where [Page 32] Dauid and his people lay hidden. Dauid who at this occasion might haue kil­led him a thousand times, spared his life, and would not so much as put him in feare: but suffered him to goe foorth quietly at his pleasure, called after him, to declare vnto him his innocencie, and to giue him to vnderstand, that he had been at his mercie. Well heer vpon what did not Saul to shew that his hart was mollified towards Dauid? he cal­led him his childe, fell into plaine wee­ping, to praise him, to confesse his meeknes, to pray vnto God for him, to presage and foretell his future great­nes, and to commend his owne poste­ritie vnto him. What greater sweetnes, and tendernes of hart could he make shew of? and yet for all that, he had not chaunged his canckred mind, nor left of his rancorous intention, but cōtinued persecuting Dauid as cruellie as before. Euen so there may be found many persons, that considering the goodnes of God, and the dolefull pas­siō of our Saueour, doe feele great ten­dernes of hart, which forceth them to sigh, to weep, to blesse, and praise God, [Page 33] and giue him thancks verie feelingly, at least verie sensiblie; in so much that one would iudge their hart to be seased and possessed with a mightie deale of deuo­tion: But when the matter comes to the proofe, we shall find, that like as short sodaine shewers of a hot summer, fal­ling in great bigge droppes vpon the earth and not pearcing it, serue for no­thing els but to produce todestooles and mushroms: Euen so the teares and tendernes of these men, falling vpon a vicious hart, and not penetrating it, be altogeather vnprofitable. For notwith­standing all these great dropps of sen­sible deuotion, they will not part from one dodkin of their euel gotten goods, nor renounce one of all their crooked and peruerse affections, nor suffer the least incommoditie of the world for the seruice of our Saueour, for whose sake they wept so earnestlie. So that the good motions which these poore soules felt, are nothing but spirituall mushrums; and are not onelie no true deuotion, but oftentimes great slights of the deuil, who nousling them vp in these false consolations, makes [Page 58] them remaine contented and satis­fied therwith: that so they should search no farther for true and sound deuotion, which consisteth in a prompt, resolute, actiue, and con­stant will, of putting in execution that which they know to be agreable to Gods pleasure. A litle child will weepe tenderly yf he see his mother launced when she is let bloud: but yf his mother at the same time de­mand an apple, or a paper of com­fits which he hath in his hands, he will by no meanes let it goe from him, demand it shee neuer so swee­tly. Such for the more part are these tender deuotions, considering the stro­ke of the speare, which pearced the hart of our Saueour, we weepe bit­terlie therfore: And alas (my Philo­theus) it is right well donne to be­waile the sorowfull death and wofull passion of our father and redeemer, but why then do we not giue him the apple which we haue in our hands, seeing he asketh it vs so earnestly, to wit, our hart, the only fruict of loue, which our deare Saueour requesteth [Page 59] of vs? Wherfore resigne we not vnto him so manie pettie affections, de­lights, & self, pleasures, which he would pull out of our hands and cannot, be­cause they be our babies, they be our comfits of which we be more fond, then desirous of his heauenly grace? Ah Philotheus, these be babie-loues, litle childrens frindships, tender indeed, but feeble, but fantasticall, but frui­ctlesse, and without effect. Deuotion then, consisteth not in such tender and sensible affections, which some­times proceed of a nature or com­plexion in it self soft, supple, apte and easie to receaue any impression: but sometimes of the crafte of the de­uel, who to busie vs vnprofitablie about such trash and droguerie, stirreth vp our fantasie to the appre­sion fit for to receaue such motions.

5. Yet these self same tendre and sweet affections are manie times good and profitable, for they prouoke the appetite of the soule, comfort the spirit, and adde to the promptitude of our deuotion, a kind of iollitie and cheerfullnes, which maketh our [Page 36] actions comelie & delightfull, euen in outward shew & appeerance. Which is the gust or tast that one feeleth in diui­ne and heauenly matters, of which Da­uid exclaimeth: O Lor how sweet are thy words to my tast? they are sweeter then honny to my mouth. And indeed the least and meanest cōtentment of deuotiō which we receaue in holy exercises, is better in all respects, then the most excel­lent recreations and pleasures of the world. The breasts, and milke, that is, the fauours of the heauenly spou­se, are sweeter and pleasaunter to the soule, then the daintiest and most pre­tious wine of earthly delights. He that once hath tasted them, esteemeth all other comforts, but gaulle and wor­mewood. As they that hold the hearbe Scitique in their mouth, tast so plea­saunt a sweetnes, that they feele nei­ther hunger nor thirst for the while: so they, to whome God hath imparted this celestiall Manna of internall con­solations, can neither desire nor re­ceaue the contentments of the world, at least to take any pleasure in them, or to sette their affections vpon them. [Page 37] They be tasts giuen before hand, of the immortall delights which God hath layd vp in heauen for the soules that searche after him: they be the sugred comfits and carowayes which he giueth vnto vs as his litle children to allure vs: they be the cordiall waters which he presenteth to strengthen them; and manie times they be handsels, or pled­ges of euerlasting felicitie. They say that Alexander the great, sailing in the manie sea, discouered before the rest of his companions, the land of the happie Arabia, by the smell of the sweet odours which the wind brou­ght with it, and therevpon receaued him selfe, and gaue great encourage­ment, to his felow-soldiours: so oft times in this mortall life, we receaue these delights and pleasures of deuo­tion, which no doubt present vnto our memorie, the ioyes and delights of the happie land of heauen, wher­unto we doe all saile and aspire.

6. But thou wilt say, since there are some sensible consolations that be good, and come from God, and other some that be vnprofitable, and [Page 62] pernicious, proceeding either from nature, or from the enemie, how shall I distinguishe the one from the other, and discerne the vnprofitable from those that be good. It is a gene­rall rule (my Philotheus) for all the passions and affections of our soule, that we must know them by their fruicts: our soules be as it were trees; affections and passions be the bowes and braunches; works and actions be the fruicts. It is a good soule, that feeleth good affections, and the affe­ctions are good which bring foorth in vs great effects of holie actions. Yf the delights, the tendernes, the con­solations which we feele in spirituall exercises, do make vs more humble, more patient, tractable, charitable, fuller of cōpassion towards our neigh­bour; more feruent in mortifying our concupiscence and naughtie inclina­tions; more constant in our good ex­ercises and resolutions, more meek and supple, and pliable to those who­me we ought to obey; more sim­ple and sincere in our liues: then without all doubt Philotheus, they [Page 63] are from God. But yf these delights haue no sweetnes, sauing onely for our owne selues, yf they make vs curious, peeuish, sower, sullen, impatient, stubborne, fierce, pre­sumptuous, hard harted towards our neighbours, yf therefore esteeming our selues allredie pettie Saints, we will no more be subiect to corre­ction nor direction, then deere Philo­theus, beware of them, then doub­tlesse they be false and pernicious consolations. A good tree cannot bring foorth any other but good fruicts.

7. When we receaue these deli­ghts and comforts in our exercises we must. 1. First of all humble our selues profoundly before allmightie God: and take heed of saying to our selues by reason of these sweet com­forts: how perfect, how good am I become! No Philotheus, not so, these be good things in deed, but they make vs neuer the better for hauing them: for, as I haue sayd, deuotion consisteth not in them, but let vs saye and thinck from our harts: O how good is God [Page 40] to such as hope in him, to the soule that seeketh after him! He that hath sugar melting in his mouth, cannot properlie say that his mouth is sweet, but that the sugar, which is in his mouth, is sweet to his mouth: So though these spirituall delights be verie good, and that God who impatteth them to vs, is exceeding good, yet folo­weth it not, that he which receaueth them, is good. 2. Let vs acknowledge our selues as yet to be litle children, and that we stand in need of milk: that these sugred confits be giuen vs, because as yet our spirit is tender and delicate, and therfore needeth allurements and bay­tes, to be drawen with all to the loue of God. 3. But after that, speaking ge­nerallie, and ordinarily, let vs receaue these graces and fauours humbly, and reuerently, esteeming them exceeding pretious, not so much for that they are in them selues, as that it is the hand of God whiche powreth them into our hart. As a louing mother to allure her child, putteth her owne self the sugred confits into his mouth one by one, sweetly smiling, and tenderlie parliyng [Page 41] with him the while: for yf the child had witt and vse of his reason, he would much more esteeme, his mothers che­rishing embraces, then the sweetnes of the confits, be they neuer so daintie. So it is much Philotheus to receaue & feel in our soules this sweetnes of deuo­tion: but it is the sweet of all sweetnes to consider that God, with his louing and fatherlie hand, putteth them as it were into our mouth, to our hart, and soule. 4. Hauing receiued them thus in humble and reuerent wise, let vs em­ploy them whollie according to the in­tention of the giuer. And wherfore think yee, dooth God bestowe these sweet comforts vpon vs? to make vs sweet towards euery bodie, and amou­rous towards him. The mother giues comfits to her litle child, to make him kisse her: let vs likewise kisse our bles­sed Saueour, who maketh much of vs by these consolations: to kisse our Sa­ueour, is to obey him, to fullfill his will, to folow his rules and councells: in a word, to embrace him tenderlie & louinglie with obedience and loyaltie. The day therfore in which we shall re­ceaue [Page 66] any spirituall consolation, we must employ most carefullie, and ende­uour to spend it diligently in Gods ser­uice and honour. 5. Beyond all this, we must from time to time renounce in our hart all this sweetnes, tendernes, and consolation, separating our affection from it as much as we can: protesting, that albeit we receaue these fauours humblie, and loue and esteeme them, because God sendeth them to vs, as it were dishes and dainties from his owne table, to prouoke vs the more to his loue: yet it is not those delights that we seek and desire, but God him self and his perfect loue, not the comforts but the comforter; not the sweetnes, but the sweet Saueour that giues them; not that tendernes of delight, but him that is the delight of heauen and earth. And in this affectuous abrenunciation of these delights, we must dispose our selues, to perseuer constant and firme in the holy loue of God, though in all our life long we should not tast one dramme of consolation: and procu­re vnfainedly, to say as well vpon the mount of Caluary, as on the mount of [Page 67] Tabor, O Lord it is good for me to be with thee, be thou in torments vpon thy crosse, or be thou in glorie in heauen. 6. To conclude I aduertize thee that yf thou shouldst chaunce to feele any extraordinarie aboundāce of such con­solations, tendernes, sweetnes, de­uout teares, or some vnwoonted thing: that then thou conferre it faithfullie with thy spirituall conductour, that be may teache thee how to moderate and behaue thy self therin. For it is written. Hast thou found honny? eate of it but as much as is sufficient.

Of drynesse and barrennesse in our spirituall exercises. CHAPTER 14.

1. THVS then must thou be­haue thy self, as I haue now described in time of spirituall comfort: but alas (Philotheus,) this faire weather will not last allwayes: and the time will come, when thou shalt be so destitute, and depriued [Page 44] of all feeling of this deuotion, that thy soule will seeme vnto thee a fruictlesse and barren field, or a desart wildernesse, in which there appeers neither cawsee, nor pathway to find God, nor anie de­we of grace to moisten and water it, through excessiue drienes, which thre­atneth to reduce her altogether to dust. Alas the poor soule in this case deserues compassion, and especially when this desolation is vehement: for at that time like holy Dauid, she feedeth her self with sad teares night and day: meane while the enemie by a thousand sugge­stions endeuours to driue her to despai­re, and mocketh her bitterly, saying in derision, wretche, wher is thy God now in thy distresse? by what meanes wilt thou find him out? Who shall euer be able to restore thee the ioye of his grace?

2. And what wilt thou doe at that time Philotheus, consider from what cause so great a miserie proceedeth: for oft times, we our selues are the cause of our owne driennes and desolation, in the exercises of the spirit. 1. As a care­full mother denies to giue sugar to her [Page 45] child, when she sees him troubled with the wormes: so God taketh away his consolations from vs, when we take some vaine self-pleasing in them, and are subiect to the worme of ouer-wea­ning, to self-conceipt, and opinion of our owne good progresse in deuotion. O my God (sayth the psalmist) It is good for me that thou hast humbled me. Yes in deed, it is verie profitable for me, for be­fore I was humbled, I did offend thee. 2. When we neglect to gather the sweet­nes and deliciousnesse of the loue of God in due time: then in punishment of our slothfullnesse, he absenteth his delights from vs. The Israelites in the desart that gathered not Manna earlie in the morning, could not find any af­ter the sunne-rising, for then was it all melted with the heat of the sunne. 3. We are also sometimes layde in the bed of sensuall contentment, and transito­rie comforts, as the sacred spouse was in the Canticles, comes me the bride­grome, and knocketh at the dore of our hart, and inspireth vs to returne to our spirituall exercises: but we play the niggardly chapmen with him, for it [Page 70] angereth vs to leaue of our toyes, and to separate our selues from our false de­lights. For this cause the true louer of our soules goeth his way from vs, and letteth vs lie as we list: but afterward when we would faine find him out, we haue much a doe to meet with him; and deseruedlie, because we were so vncour­teous and faithlesse vnto his loue, as to refuse to folow our exercise for his loue, and to choose to folow worldly vani­ties. Ah: then as yet thou hast some of the branne of Egypt remaining: thou shalt then haue not a iot of the hea­uenly Manna. Bees detest all kind of artificiall odours: and the sweetnes of the holy Ghost, cannot agree with the sophisticated delights of the world. 4. The double dealing, and slights which thou vsest in confessions, and spirituall communications with the conductour and maister of thy soule, many times is the cause of this drougth and barrennesse: for yf thou lie to the holy Ghost, no meruaile yf he with­draw his consolations from thee. Thou wilt not be simple, plaine, and wi­thout guile, as a litle child is: thou [Page 71] shalt not then enioy these spiritnall comfits, giuen only to Gods litle children. 5. Thou art filled and glutted with worldly contentments: no wonder then yf spirituall delights come not to thy table, or haue no good tast in thy mouth: Doues allreadie filled (sayth the ancient prouerb) do thinck cher­ries bitter. He which filled the hungrie with good things (sayth our blessed Ladie) and sent the rich away empty. They that be rich of wordly vanities, are not capable of spirituall treasures. 6. Hast thou conserued well and carefully the fruicts of consolations allreadie recea­ued? then shalt thou receaue more store againe: for to him that hath, more shaloe giuen: and he that hath not (negligently leesing that which he receaued) euen that he hath shalbe taken away from him, he shalbe de­priued of the fauours and graces, which were prepared for him, yf he had vsed well the former. The raine quickeneth them plāts that be greene, but frō them that be not green, it taketh away alto­gether all likely hood of life & growth, for it rotteth them wholly.

3. For manie such causes doe we loose comfort in deuotion, and fall into barrennes and drienes of spirit. Let vs then examin our conscience, and see whether we can find in vs such faul­tie causes as these. But note, Philo­theus, that this examination is not to be made with vnquietnesse of mind; or ouermuch curiositie, but after thou hast faithfully considered thy going awrie in this respect, yf thou find the cause of the euil in thy self, giue God thancks, for the harme is half healed, whose cause is discouered. Yf on the other side, thou find our no cause in particular, which may seeme vnto thee to haue occasioned this desolation, busie not thy self about anie more cu­rious searche for it, but with all sim­plicitie, without examining any more particularities, doe this which I will tell thee.

4. First of all humble thy self reue­rently before the eyes of God, ackno­wledging thy miserie, thy frailtie, the nothing that thou art in thy self. Alas what am I, when I am left alone to mine owne prouidence? nothing els, O [Page 73] Lord, but a drie barren ground, that full of gappes and riftes, witnesseth the drought it suffereth, for want of hea­uenly dewe: and the wind of tentation in the mean time doth dissipate it con­uerted into fruictlesse dust. 2. Call vpon God and demaund of him his spirituall ioye. Render vnto me, O Lord, the ioy of thy saluatiou, My father, yf it be possible, lett this cuppe passe from mee. Gett thee away ô thou vnfruictfull Northe­wind, which driest vp the sappe and iui­ce of my soule: and come ô prosperous winds of consolations, and breath gen­tly ouer my poore garden, and then these good affections wil spread abroad the odour of their sweetnes 3. Goe to thy Confessour, open thy hart vnto him, make him see cleerly all the plights and corners of thy soule: take his aduice simplie and humbly: for God that infinitly loueth obedience, maketh often times councells taken from other men, proue verie profitable, especially giuen by conductours of sou­les, albeit otherwise there be no great likelyhood, that they should preuaile: as he made the waters of Iordan healthfull [Page 74] to Naaman, which Elizeus, without any appeerance at all of humane rea­son, ordained him as a bath for his leprosie.

4. All this being donne, nothing is so profitable, nothing so fruitfull in time of these spirituall desolations, and bar­renesse, as not to be ouermuch desirous of being deliuered frō this aggreeuance or calamitie. I say not but that we may simplie and quietlie wishe to be eased of so great aburden: but my meaning is, that we should not too earnestly affect this ease, and freedom from this desolate state of mind: but hartely re­signe our soule to the prouidence of God; that so long as it pleaseth him, he may vse our poore seruice, amid these troublesome thornie-brakes, and com­fortlesse deserts. Let vs say to God at these times. O father, yf it be possible, lett this cup passe away from me: but lett vs with all from our verie harts, adioine the wordes folowinge of our blessed Saueour: Yet not my will be donne, but thine: vpon this good resolution let vs rest, and repose. For God seeing vs constantly perseuer in this holy in [Page 75] differency, will comfort vs with many graces, and fauours: as when he saw Abraham resolued to depriue him self of his sonne Isaac, he was contented with this his indifferency, & pure resig­nation, cōforting him with a heauenly vision, & with most admirable benedi­ctions. We must then in al kind of affli­ctions, as wel corporall as spirituall, in what soeuer distractions, or subtractiōs of sensible deuotion happening to vs, with great courage, and resignation al­ways say: Our Lord gaue me consolations, and our Lord hath taken them from me; his holy name be blessed. For persisting in this humilitie and submission, he will restore vnto vs his delicious fauours, as he did vnto Iob, who vsed the afore­sayd words constantly and vnfainedly in all his desolations.

5. Finallie my Philotheus, amidst all these sterilities and desolations, let vs not loose courage, but expecting patiētly the returne of spiritual delights, keepe on our iourney, folow our exer­cises of deuotion, multiplie good works and holy actions: and not being able to present to our spouse, liquid [Page 76] conserues, present him drie confitures: for all is one to him, prouided that the hart which offereth them, be perfectly resolued to perseuer loyallie in his loue. When the spring time is faire and plea­saunt, then do the Bees make more hon­nie, and fewer young impes: for the good wether fauouring them, they are so busie in gathering the sappe of sweet flowers, that they forgett the genera­tion of their young ones. But when the springtime is troublesome with gloomie cloudes and windie stormes, they gett more impes, and lesse honnie for being not able to flie abroade to their gathering of honnie, they employ them selues to multiplie their race, and people their cōmon wealthe. So chaun­ceth it oft times, my Philotheus, that the soule in the faire weather of spiri­tuall comforts, busieth her self so much in gathering them together, and suc­king that heauenlie iuice out of them, that in the abundance of these daintie delights, she produceth fewer good workes: and contrariwise amid the bitter­nesse of clowdie desolations, seeing her self destituted of those spiritual delights [Page 77] of deuotiō, she multiplieth solid works of edification so much more seriously, and aboundeth in fructifiyng of true virtues of patiēce, humilitie, abiection, resignation, and abnegation, of all self-will and self loue.

6. It is then a great abuse and errour of manie, especiallie of wemen, to be­leeue that the seruice which we doe to God whithout this pleasant tast, & sen­sible delight, & tendernes of hart, is lesse agreeable to his diuine maiestie: for cle­ane contrarylie, our actiōs are like vnto roses, which though being freshe and flourie they haue a better grace & shew, yet whē they are drie they haue a swee­ter odour: so though our works done with tendernes of deuotion be more ac­ceptable to vs our selues, to vs I say, that consider only our owne delight: yet when they are exercised by vs in time of drinesse and barrenesse of spirit, then haue they a goodlier estimation, and a better odour in the presence of God. In time of desolation, our will carieth vs (as it were by meer force) to the seruice of God, & consequently that will must needs be more vigorous and constant, [Page 78] then the will which we haue of seruing God in time of comfort. It is no such great matter to serue a prince in time of peace, and in the pompe and pleasu­res of the courte, but to serue him constantly in time of trouble and per­secution, and in warre, that is a true mark of constancy and loyaltie. Saint Angela de Fulgino sayth, that of all prayers, that is most acceptable to God, which is made by force and meere con­straint, that is, whereunto we applie our selues willinglie, not for any tast or delight which we feele in it, nor by our owne inclination, but meerly, purely and onlie to please God: wherto our will driueth vs, as it were against our will, forcing and violently repel­ling the drienesse, and contradictions, which oppose themselues against it. The same say I of all sorts of good wor­kes, that the more contradiction we find in exercising them, be it exteriour, or interiour, the more are they prized and esteemed in the court of heauen. The lesse of our owne particular inte­rest that there is in the poursnite of vir­tues, the more doth the puritie of the [Page 79] loue of God shine in it. A litle child wil easilie kisse his mother, when she giueth him honnie and sugar, but it is a signe of greater loue, yf he kisse her after she hath giuen him wormeseed, or bitter potions.

The former discourse is explained and confirmed by a notable example. CHAPTER 15.

1. TO make this instruction more euident and intelligible, I will recite an excellent peece of the historie of S. Bernard, in such manner as I find it set downe in the learned and iudicious writer therof. He sayth then in this wise. It is an ordinarie thing, al­most vnto all them that beginne to ser­ue God, and are not yet experienced in the subtractiō of grace, nor in spirituall vicissitudes or enterchāges of cōsolatiōs & desolatiōs; that the tast of sensible de­uotion & that sweet acceptable light of mind, (which maketh them hastē them selues in the waye of God) being with­drawen from them: they presently grow out of breath, and fall into pusillani­mitie and sadnes of hart. They that [Page 80] be of iudgement and vnderstanding doe render this reason therof: that nature according to reason cannot long endu­re (as a man might say) fasting, & with­out anie kind of delight or entertain­ment at all, but needs must haue some contentment, either terrestriall or cele­stiall. But as soules lifted vp aboue them selues by tast and trial of heauenly plea­sures, doe easilie renounce the delights of all sensible obiects: so when by Gods disposition and ordinance that spirituall ioy is taken from them, finding them selues also on the other side depriued of corporall solace, and being not yet ac­customed to expect with patience, the returne and rising of the true sunne of grace, it seemeth vnto them that they are no more in heauen or in earth, but that they be buried in perpetuall darknes: So that as litle children newlie weaned, hauing lost their mo­thers dugges they do languishe, and sigh, and grow froward and trouble­some, principallie to their owne sel­ues. This then happened in the voiage wherof we speake, vnto one of the troupe, called Geoffrie of Peronne, [Page 81] but newlie dedicated to the seruice of God. He being sodainlie become drie in his deuotions, destituted of his woonted consolations, and pos­sessed with a kind of inward darknes: began to call to memorie the world, his frinds, his parents, and the great meanes that but lately he had left be­hind him. By which memorie, he was assaulted with so cruell a tempta­tion, that not being able to hide it in his behaueour, one of his trustie frinds perceaued it, and hauing found opportunitie, ioined himself to him, and asked him sweetly in secret: what meaneth this change Geoffrie? How cometh it to passe, that contrarie to thy woont, thou art become so pensiue and afflicted. Ah my brother (answered Geoffrie with a deep sigh) I shall neuer more be merrie so long as I liue. The other moued with compassion at these words, with a fraternall zeale, went and told all this to their common father Saint Ber­nard: who perceauing the danger, went into a church there by, to pray to God for him, and Geoffrie in the [Page 82] meane while ouerwhelmed with sadnes, reposing his head vpon a stone, fell fast a sleepe. But after a litle while, both of them arose, the one frō prayer with his request dispatched in the high court of heauen, the other from sleepe with so pleasaunt and smiling a countenance, that his deer frind meruailing at so great & sodaine a chaunge, could not refraine from obiecting vnto him louingly that which a litle before he had answered him. Then Geoffrie replied: yf I told thee before that I should neuer in my life be ioyfull, now I assure thee, that I shall neuer in my life be sorowfull.

2. This was the successe of the tēpta­tion of that deuout personage, & marke in it (my deer Philotheus) 1. First that God ordinarilie giueth some fore-tasts of heauenly ioye, to such as newlie en­ter into his seruice: so to draw them from earthlie pleasures, and encourage thē in the poursuite of the loue of God: iust as a mother to intice & allure her litle child to her breasts, layeth honnie vpon her teats. 2. That notwithstāding the same good God, which according to the disposition of his wisdome, ta­keth [Page 83] from vs this milk and honny of consolations: to the end that weaning his children in this manner, they might learne to eat the drie, but more substan­tiall bread of liuely and sound deuotion, exercised by the triall of distast and de­solation. 3. That sometimes verie vehe­ment temptations arise amidst these de­solate and drie discontentments of ste­rilitie of spirit: and then it behoueth vs to resist these temptations cōstantly, for they come not frō God; but withall we must patiētly suffer this desolate estate, of want of spirituall feeling in our de­uotions, for God hath ordeined & dispo­sed it for our exercise and merit. 4. That we must not leese hart & courage amōg these inward griefs, nor say as this good Geoffrie did, I shall neuer be ioyfull heerafter: for in the night season, we must expect the daylights approache; Againe in the fairest weather of the spi­rit, that we cā haue we must not say now shall I neuer be sad heerafter; No; for as the wise man sayes, in time of pro­speritie, we must be mindfull of aduer­sitie, and in our trauailes, hope for rest: and as well in the one occasion as in the [Page 84] other, we must always humble our sel­ues. 5. That it is a soueraigne remedie to discouer our euel vnto some spiritual frind, that may be able to comfort vs.

3. In fine for conclusion of this so necessarie aduertisment, I note, that as in all other things, so in these drie steri­lities of our spirit, God and the deuil haue contrarie pretentions. For God would therby bring vs to puritie of hart, to a generall renunciatiō of our proper interest in his seruice, and to a perfect deposing of our owne willes. But the de­uil goeth about by the same way to lead vs to pusillanimitie, to abate our coura­ge, to make vs steppe a side to sensible passetimes, and at length to render vs yrksome and loathsome to our selues, & others that liue with vs; that so deuotiō may be diminished, and defamed. But yf thou obserue diligently these lessons which I haue giuen thee, thou shalt augment thy perfection in those exer­cises, which thou performest in time of these interiour afflictions: wherof one word more before I make an end.

4. Sometimes these distasts, this drouth and barrennes of spirit, doe pro­ceed [Page 85] from the indispositio of our bodie: as when through too much watching, labouring, fasting, one findeth him self ouerloaden with weerinesse, drousines, heauines, & such like infirmities; which although they depend of the bodie, yet lett they not to hinder and trouble the spirit, by reason of the straight bond with which they are tied one to ano­ther. In these occasiōs, we must allwayes be mindfull, to produce many acts of virtue, with our spirit, or superiour will: for although all our soule seeme to be ouer-layd with sleepe and drousines: yet the actiōs of our spirit euē in that state, are exceeding acceptable to God. And we may say in this case with the sacred spouse, I sleep, but my hart watcheth. And as I sayd before, though there be lesse de­light in this labour of spirit, yet is there more virtue and merit. The remedie in such occurrences is, to ease the bodie with some kind of lawfull delight and recreation. So Saint Francis ordained that his religious should vse such mo­deration in their labour, that the bur­den of them, should not depresse and ouerthrow the spirit. And since we [Page 86] haue mentioned S. Francis, let vs re­member his example, who was on a time him self so vexed and tormented with a profound melancholie, that he could not choose but declare it in his behaueour. For yf he would conuerse with his religious he knew not how; if he withdrew him self, frō their conuer­sation, it went worse with him; absti­nence and mortification of his flesh, ouerwhelmed him: and prayer eased him not at all. And in this sort remai­ned this glorious father, the space of two yeares, so that it seemed vnto him, that in a manner, God had forsaken him. But at length after he had so long and patiently suffered this rude and ve­hement tentation, our Saueour in a mo­ment restored to him the happie tran­quillitie and repose of his spirit. This haue I sayd, to shew that the greatest and faithfullest seruants of God, are sub­iect vnto these aduersities and afflictions of mind: and that therfore those that are lesser in Gods bookes, be not dis­mayed yf some times they happen vnto them.

THE FIFTH PART OF THE INTRODVCTION: Containing exercises and in­structions to renew the soule, and confirme deuotion.

That we renew euery yeare our good purposes by the exercises folowing. CHAPTER I.

THE first & principall poinct of these exercises, consisteth in knowing the importance of them. Our weak & fraile nature, falleth verie easily frō her good affectiōs & resolutiōs, through the bad inclinations of our flesh, which lie heauie vpon the soule it selfe, and draw her stil downwards, yf she striue not oft times to lift vp her self by [Page 88] maine force of resolution as birds fall sodainlie to ground, yf they multiplie not the spreading and wauing of their wings to maintenine their flight aloft in the ayre. For this cause, deere Philo­theus, thou must very often repeat the good purposes which thou hast made to serue God, for feare least neglecting to doe so, thou tūble downe to thy first estate, or rather into a farre worse estate. For spirituall falles haue this propertie, that they cast vs alway lower, then was the estate from which we ascended vp to deuotion.

2. There is no clock, be it neuer so good, or so well sett, but it must be wound vp twise a day at least, morning and euening, and moreouer at least once a yeare, be taken all in peeces, to scoure away the rust which it hath ga­thered, to mend broken peeces, and repaire such as be worne. Euen so he that hath a true care of his soule, should wind it vp to God euening and mor­ning by the foresayd exercises, and be­sides at diuerse times, make a reuiew of his estate, and at least once a yeare, take it downe and consider precisely [Page 89] all the peeces therof, that is, all his passions, affections and motions, that all faults and defects found out, may out of hand be redressed. And as the clockman with some delicate oyle, an­nointeth the wheeles, iunctures and ginnes of his clock, that the motions may be more easie, and the whole be lesse subiect to rust; so the deuout per­son, after he hath in this sort taken downe his hart to reuiew and renew it, should annoint it with the sacra­ments of Confession, and the holy Eucharist. This exercise will repaire thy weather-beaten forces, enflame thy hart, make thy good purposes sprout out a fresh, and thy virtues flourish anew. The ancient Christians dili­gently practized it vpon the anniuersa­rie feast of our Saueours Baptisme, or Twelf-daye: on which (as witnesseth Saint Gregory Nazianzen) they re­newed those professions and protesta­tions, which they made in their chri­stening. Let vs doe the like, (my deare Philotheus) disposing our selues most willinglie, and employing our time seriouslie therin. And hauing chosen a [Page 90] fitt time, according to the aduice of thy ghostly father, retiring thy self into thy spirituall and reall solitude, or wilder­nesse of deuotion: make two or three of these ensewing meditations, after the order and methode, which I set downe vnto thee in the second parte.

Considerations vpon the benefit which God doth vnto vs, by calling vs to his seruice, according to the protesta­tion mentioned before. CHAPTER 2.

1. RVNNE ouer the poincts of thy protestation. The first is, to re­iect and cast away, detest, and defie for euer, all kind of mortall sinne. The second, to haue dedicated, and consecrated thy soule, thy hart, and thy bodie, with all that thou hast, to the loue and seruice of God: The third; that yf it should happen vnto thee to fall into some naughtie action, that thou wilt procure immediatlie to rise [Page 91] againe by Gods grace. Are not these goodlie, worthie, reasonable, and no­ble resolutions? Way well in thy soule, how conformable to the rule of reason this thy protestation is, how iust, and how much to be desired, that thou shouldst fullfill and accomplishe euery poinct of it.

2. Consider to whome thou hast made this protestation: euen to God him self. Yf according to reason, our word giuen to a man, doe straightly oblige & bind vs, how much more our word and promise giuen and passed to allmightie God? Ah Lord (sayd Da­uid) it is to thee that my hart hath pro­nounced this good word, and I will not forgett it.

3. Consider in whose presence thou madest this protestation and thou shalt find, that it was in sight of the whole courte of heauen. The holie Virgin, blessed Saint Ioseph, thy good Angel, Saint Lewis, all this blessed companie beheld thee, and sighed with sighes of ioy and contentment at thy words, and looked vpon thee with eyes of vn­speakeable loue, when thy hart pro­strated [Page 92] at the feete of our Saueour, con­secrated it self wholly to his seruice. They made a peculiar feast and trium­phe that day of thy entrie into Gods seruice, and they will now make a com­memoration of that ioyfull feast, yf with a deuout hart and good courage, thou renewest thy resolutions.

4. Consider by what meanes thou wast brought to make this protestatiō, and to offer vp these great resolutions. Ha my Philotheus, how amiable and fauourable did God shew him self vnto thee at that time? Tell me, wast thou not then drawne vnto it, by the sweet inspirations of the holy Ghost? the cordes wherwith God drew thy litle barke vnto this secure hauen, were they not all of loue & charitie? How deerlie and daintelie did he allure & intice thee with his sugred sacraments, with holy lecture, and deuout prayer? Ah Philo­theus, thou wast a sleep, & God watched ouer thee, and had care of thy soule, and had thoughts of peace, and meditations of loue concerning thee.

5. Consider at what time God drew thee thus happelie vnto him by these [Page 93] holie purposes. It was in the flower of thine age. Ah what a felicitie is it to learne quickly, that which we cannot know but ouer-late. Saint Augustin, hauing been called to God at thirtie yeares of his age, cried out: O ancient beauty, how is it, that I knew thee so late? Alas I saw thee before, but I did not consider thee till now. And thou maist well say: O ancient sweetnes, why did not I tast thee sooner? And yet alas, thou deseruedst it not at that time in which it was giuen thee: therfore acknowledging the great bountie and grace of God, for calling thee to him in thy youthe, say vnto him with Dauid: Thou hast lightened me, ô God, and touched me from my youth, and I will for euer pronounce thy mercy. But yf this thy vocation was in thy older dayes, ô then, Philotheus, how inestimable a benefit was it, after thou hadst in such sort a­bused the yeares of thy life past, that God of his goodnes should call thee before thy death, and stay the cour­rent of thy miserie, euen at that ti­me, in which yf it had beene conti­newed, thou hadst beene miserable for euer and euer!

6. Consider the effects which this vocation hath wrought in thee, & I sup­pose thou shalt find change and altera­tion enough in thy soule, cōparing that which now thou art, with that which thou hast beene. Doest thou not accoūt it a singular felicitie, to know how to talk familiarlie with God by prayer? to haue an enflamed affection and burning desire of the loue of God to haue appea­sed, and pacified manie a troublesome passion, which before did vex, and tor­ment thee? to haue auoided many sin­nes and scruples of conscience? And in a word to haue so often frequented the holy Communion (more then thou wouldst once haue done) so vniting thy self to this soueraigne well-spring of euer-during graces? Ah, these be great and inestimable fauours. We must way and ponder them with the wai­ghtes of the sanctuarie: it is Gods right hand that hath done all this. The right hand of God (sayth Dauid) hath done powerfully, his right hand hath extolled me: I will not dy, but liue; and will make knowne with hart, word, and deed, the wonders of his goodnes.

7. After all these considerations, which as thou seest may plentifullie furnish thee with holie and feruent af­fections: thou must simplie conclude with thancks-geuing, and pray affectio­natly for thy good progresse in virtue. And so retire frō prayer with great hu­militie and confidence in God: reseruing the enforcing of the resolutiōs, till after the second poinct of this exercise.

The examination of our soule touching her proffiting in deuotion. CHAPTER 3.

1. THE second poinct of this ex­ercise, is somewhat long, and therfore to practize it, it is not requisite to performe it all at once, but at diuers times: as to take that which concerneth thy misdemeanour towards God for once, that which apperteineth to thy self for another time, that which toucheth thy neighbour for an other, & the examining of thy passions for ano­ther. Neither is it requisite or necessary, to doe it all vpō thy knees, but onely the [Page 96] beginning & ending, which cōprehen­deth the affections. The other poincts of the examination, thou must per­forme profitablie walking, or sitting, or best of all in bed, yf thou canst so remaine without drowsines, or well awake: but thou must well haue read them before. Yet it is necessarie to make an end of all this second poinct in three dayes, and two nights, at the farthest: taking eache day & night, some hower or seasō according as thou best mayest: for yf it should be done at times farr distant one from another, it would loose his force, and would worke but verie weak and kay-cold impressions and resolutions.

2. After euerie point of the exami­nation, note carefully in what thou findest thy self amended, and in what thou art defectiue, and what principall errours or abuses thou hast committed, that so thou mayst declare thy self the better to take good councell, and reso­lution, to comfort thy mind. And al­though in these dayes of examination, it be not necessarie to retire thy selfe totallie from companie and conuersa­tion: [Page 97] yet thou must be somwhat more retired thē ordinarie, & principallie to­wards the euening, that thou mayst go to bed earlie, & take that rest of bodie and repose of mind which is necessarie for these exercises. And in the day time, thou must vse verie frequent aspira­tions to God, to our Ladie, to the An­gells, to all the celestiall Hierusalem: And all this must be done with a louing hart towards God, & desirous of perfe­ction. So beginne then this examina­tion well and happelie.

1. First place thy self in the presence of God.

2. Inuoke the ayde of the holy Ghost, demaund of him light and cleernes, to see and know well, with S. Augustin, who cried out before God in an hum­ble spirit: O lord let me know thee, and let me know my selfe: and S. Francis, who sweetly asked God saying. Who art thou, and who am I? Protest that thou doest not purpose to marke and note thy ad­uancement and progresse in pietie and virtue, to reioice therfore in thy self, but to reioice in God, nor to glorifie thy self, but to glorifie God, & to giue [Page 98] him thancks for it. Protest likewise that yf thou findest that thou hast not profi­ted nor gone forward at all in deuotion nay though thou hast recoyled & gone backward: yet for all that thou wilt not leese thy courage, nor become any whit the colder in thy good purposes, through faintnes of hart; but that rather thou wilt more stirre vp thy courage, & animate thy self to goe more cheerfully forward in the iourney of deuotion hap­pely enterprized, & that thou wilt the more profoundlie humble thy self, and amend thy defaults by the assistance of Gods grace.

This done, cōsider leasurely & quietly how thou hast behaued thy self euen till that presēt power, toward God, towards thy neighbour, & towards thy selfe.

An examination of the estate of our soule towards God. CHAP. 4.

1. HOW is thy hart affected toward mortal sinne? hast thou a firme resolution neuer to committ any, whatsoeuer should happē vnto thee therfore? Hath this resolution and full purpose, endured cōtinually in thy sou­le, [Page 99] since thy last protestation vnto this time? In this resolution consisteth the foundation of spirituall life.

2. How findest thou thy hart affected towards the commandements of God. Doest thou find thē delightful, sweet ac­ceptable. Ah my deer child, he that hath his mouth in tast, and a good stomak, loueth wholsome meats, and reiecteth the contrarie.

3. How doth thy hart beare it self towards veniall sinnes? we cannot keep our selues so pure, but we shall commit some now and then: but is there any, to which thou hast any especiall inclina­tion? or which were worse, is there any kind of venial sinne, to which thou bea­rest a peculiar affection and delight?

4. How is thy hart affected towards spirituall exercises? doest thou loue them, and esteeme them? doe they not trouble thee? art thou not out of content and tast with them? To which of them doest thou find thy self most inclined? To heare the word of God, to reade it, to talke of it, to meditate it, to aspire daylie to God, to goe often to confession, to receaue [Page 100] spirituall instructiōs, to prepare thy self duly to the holy Cōmunion, to Cōmu­nicate frequētly, to bridle thy affectiōs: in these and such like acts and exercises, what is there contrarie or repugning to thy mind? And yf thou find any such holy exercise, to which this hart of thi­ne hath lesse inclination then it should, examine the cause from whence that disgust ariseth.

5. How doth thy hart remaine affe­cted towards God him self? Taketh it pleasure in the remembrance of God? feeleth it not a sweet delight in calling him to mind? Ah sayd Dauid, I haue thought vpon God, and taken delight therin. Doest thou find a certaine promptnes, redinesse, and facilitie in thy hart to loue God, and a particular sauour in ta­sting this his loue? Thy hart, doth it not recreat it selfe to thinke vpon the im­mensitie, bountie, and maruelous swet­nes of almightie God? If thou chaunce to thinck vpon God amidst thy worldly affaires, and vanities, doth this thought make place, and winne rome, and seaze vpon thy hart? Doeth it seeme to thee that in such cases thy hart takes Gods [Page 101] part, and turnes to his side, and as it we­re goes before him, to lead him reue­rently into the chamber of thy hart? for there are many soules of this met­tal in the world.

6. A louing wife, when her housband comes home from some farre iourney, so soone as she perceaueth any signe of his returne, or heareth his voice: what busines of euer she hath in hād, though she be cōstrained by some forcible con­sideration to stay her self, yet her hart cannot be held from looking for her husband, but abandoneth all other co­gitations, to thinck vpon his ioyfull re­turne. Soules that loue God, doe the verie same; howsoeuer they be em­ployed, when the remembrance of God presenteth it self vnto thē, they neglect all thinges else, for ioye that their belo­ued is returned vnto them; and this is a verie good signe.

7. How is thy hart affected towards Iesus Christ, God & man. Takest thou pleasure in thincking on his life and death? The Bees delight in their deli­cious honnie: Waspes and beetles, in ill­fauoured sauours: so holy soules haue [Page 102] all their cōtentmēt, placed in our sweet redeemer Iesus Christ, with an excee­ding tendernes of ardent loue to him: but such as be vaine, and wicked, plant their affections altogether vpon vnpro­fitable vanities.

8. How is thy hart affected towards our blessed Ladie, thy good Angell, the Saincts of heauen? Doest thou loue, honour & reuerence them: hast thou a speciall trust in their intercession, a res­pect & worship to their images, delight in their liues: takest thou pleasure to heare them praised?

9. Concerning thy tongue. How speakest thou of God: is it a delight vn­to thee to talk and discource in his ho­nour, according to thy condition and abilitie: Doest thou loue to sing hym­nes to his praise and glorie?

10. Concerning workes. Thinck whether thou haue a true harty desire of the outward glotie of God, and to doe somwhat for his honour and worship: for such as loue God, doe according to Dauid, loue the ornament of his house.

11. Cōsider whether thou hast left any affection, or renounced any delight, or [Page 103] forsook any thing for Gods cause? for it is a great signe of true loue, for his sake whome we loue, to depriue our selues of any thing. What then hast thou in all this time (since thy protesta­tion) forsaken for the loue of God?

An examination of our estate tou­ching our selues. CHAP. 5.

1. HOW doest thou loue thy self, louest thou thy self ouermuch for the vanities of this world? For yf it be so, thou wilt desire to dwell always in the world, with an extraor­dinarie care to establishe thy self heer vpon earth. But yf thou loue thy self for heauens sake then wilt thou desire, at least wise thou wilt easilie consent, to depart from hence at the time and hower, that it shall please our Lord to call thee.

2. Doest thou keepe due order in the loue of thy self? for there is no­thing that marreth vs, but onely the inordinate loue of our selues. As for well ordered loue, it requires that [Page 104] we loue the soule bitter then the bodie; that we take more paines to get virtues then any thing els; that we make more account of heauenly glorie, then of base and transitorie honour? A well or­dered hart, will more often say in it self: What will the angels say yf I thinck, or doe such a thing? thē, what will men say?

3. What loue bearest thou to thy soule? art thou vnwilling and loath to help it when it is spirituallie distempe­red and diseased? alas thou owest this care and attendance vnto it, to helpe it thy self, and procure it to be hol­pen by other, when passions doe tor­ment it: and to set a side all other cares, when thy soule stands in need of thy care.

4. How doest thou esteeme of thy self before the eyes of God almightie? to be nothing at all, doubtlesse. But it is noe great humilitie in a flie, to thinck her self nothing in regard of a moun­taine; or for a droppe of water, to esteeme it self nothing in compari­son of the maine sea: nor for a spar­kle of fire, to hold it self nothing in res­pecte of the sunne: It is humilitie in­deed, [Page 105] not to preferre our selues before others, nor to affect, or desire to be esteemed of, and well liked by others: How doest thou feele thy self, affected in this point?

5. Touching thy tongue: doest thou not bragge and vaunt of thy self one way or other? doest thou not flatter thy self, when thou speakest of thine owne self?

6. For works & actions. Doest thou vse to take any pleasure or passetime, contrarie to thy bodily or spirituall health? I meane vaine pleasure, vnprofi­table recreations, ouer-watching, too much disordely labour, and such like.

An examination of the estate of our soule towards our neighbour. CHAPTER 6.

1. THE loue between husband, and wife, ought io be sweete, quiet, earnest, and constant, and grounded principallie vpon the or­dinance of God, who commandeth it to be so. And the self same is to be vn­derstood, of loue between parents and [Page 106] their children, between vs and our neighbours, and our frinds, euerie one in his ranck and degree.

2. But to speak in generall. How is thy hart affected towards thy neigh­bour? Doest thou loue him from thy hart, and for Gods sake? To discerne well, whether it be so or no, thou must prepose and represent vnto thy self, certaine persons that be troublesome, and intractable, for there it is, and towards such kind of men, where we exercise the virtue of true charitie to­wards our neighbours: and much more towards such as haue iniuried vs either in work or in word. Examin well yf thy hart be free from passion in this behalf, and whether thou feelest not a contradiction within thee, to loue anie bodie.

3. Art thou proane to speak ill of thy neighbour? and especiallie of such as loue thee not? Doest thou any harme to thy neighbour directly, or indire­ctly? Though thou haue neuer so litle reason or discourse, thou wilt easilie find out thy defects in this point.

An examination of the affections of our soule. CHAP. 7.

1. I HAVE extended these poincts at large, because in the exami­nation of them, consisteth the knowledge of our spirituall aduance­ment, or progresse which we haue made, for as for examining our sinnes, thats for confessions, and for such as neuer thinck vpon going forward in pietie and deuotion.

2. Yet neuerthelesse, we must not labour to exactlie and curiouslie in examining euerie one of these articles or interro­gatories: but fayre and softlie, consi­dering with quiet and repose of mind, in what estate our hart hath beene in euerie one of them since our resolution and protestation, and what notable de­fects we haue committed therin.

3. But to make a shorter abridgement of all, we may reduce the whole exa­mination, to the searche and suruay of our passions: and yf it be tedious and troublesome, to consider so exactlie what we haue been: we may in this [Page 108] manner folowing examine our selues how we haue behaued our selues.

  • In our loue towards God, our neigh­bour, and our selues.
  • In hatred toward sinne in our selues, and sinne in others: for we must desi­re the extirpation of the one, and the other:
  • In desires of riches, honour, estima­tion, passetimes.
  • In feare of danger to fall into sinne, and of losse of goods of this world, for we may feare the one and the other too much.
  • In hope placed more then needs in the world, in fading creatures: or to litle in God, and godlie thinges.
  • In sadnes, yf it were to excessiue, and for transitorie vanities.
  • In ioye and gladnes, yf ouermuch and for vnworthie matters.

To conclude in a worde: what affection doth predominate thy hart? what pas­sion doth most of all possesse it? in what doest thou principallie goe awrie? for by passions of our soule, we may iudge of our estate, examining them, and as it were feeling and tasting them, one [Page 109] after another. As he that is skillfull on the lute, by touching the diuerse strai­nes of his instrument, finds which string is out of tune, and tunes it by stretching it vp, or letting it downe: so after we haue as it were touched, and examined the tune of our passions, of the loue, hatred, desire, feare, hope, sad­nes, or ioye that is in our soule, yf we find them discording from the tune which we would strike, and from the proportionable harmonie of our soule, which is to be sett to the glorie of God, we may make them accorde, by brin­ging them to their due tune and pro­portion with Gods grace, and by coun­cell and aduice of our ghostly father.

Affections to be exercised after this examination. CHAP. 8.

AFTER thou hast duly ponde­red euery poinct of the exami­nation, and considered at what stay thou art, and to what thou art come: then exercise the affects of thy soule as foloweth.

1. Giue God thancks for that amend­ment, be it but litle, which thou hast found in thy life, since thy generall re­solution last made: and acknowledge that it was his only mercie, that caused it in thee, and and for thee.

2. Humble thy self reuerently before his maistie, acknowledging vnfainedly, that yf thou haue not much profited in pietie, it hath been through thine owne default, because thou hast not faithfully, courageously, and constantly answered the inspirations, illustrations, and mo­tions, which he hath often imparted vnto thee in prayer, and by manie other wayes.

3. Promise him sincerely, that thou wilt for euer praise him, for the inestim­able fauours bestowed vpon thee, and especially for drawing thee frō thy bad inclinatiōs by this present amendment.

4. Demaund pardon of him for thy vnfaithfulnes & disloyaltie, for not cor­responding with his inspirations and graces.

5. Offer him vp thy hart, to the end he may be the sole maister and Lord of it.

6. Beseech him to make thee faith­fullie [Page 111] accomplishe his will heerafter.

6. Inuoke the Saincts of heauen, our B. Ladie, thy good Angell, thy pa­tron, Ioseph, and the rest to whome thou hast an especiall deuotion, to helpe thee with their intercession.

Considerations proper to renew our good purposes. CHAP. 9.

1. THIS examination being made, and diligentlie conferred with some worthie, expert, and skillfull guide, to learne the qualitie of thy faults, and the fit remedies for them: beginne those meditations fo­lowing, making one of them euery day, and in it spend the ordinarie time which other dayes thou appointedst to passe in thy meditation; with the self same method, preparation, and affections which thou hast vsed heerto­fore in the meditations set downe in the first part: placing thy self first of all in the presence of God, and then im­ploring his grace, to establish thee in his holy loue and seruice.

The first consideration, of the excellency of our soule. CHAP. 10.

1. CONSIDER the nobilitie and excellēce of thy soule, endewed with an vnderstanding, which knoweth not only all this visible worl­de, but moreouer vnderstandeth, that there are inuisible Angels, and a happie Paradise, that there is a soueraigne God, vnspeakeable, most good, most mighty; that there is an eternitie of immortall spirits: and withall knoweth the mea­nes how to liue well in this visible world, and to associate her self with the angels in heauen, and to attaine to the familiaritie and frindship of God him self for euer.

2. Thy soule hath also a free-will, of a most noble excellencie, which is able to loue God, and cannot hate him, considered in him selfe. Loe what an excellent soule thou hast. As no corruptible or ill-sauouring thing can stay the litle Bees, but onely flowers are their rest, only vpon them do they setle their flight: so thy [Page 113] hart can find no repose, but in God alone, no creature else cā fil or satisfie it. Remember hardly & recount with thy self, all the dearest and greatest enter­tainments, wherwith thou hast euer occupied thy hart, and iudge in good sadnes, whether they were not all full of vnquiet, of molestations, of restlesse and stinging thoughts, importunate cares, with which thy poore hart was most miserably distract and afflicted.

3. Alas thy hart runneth hastely and headlong, after the creatures of this world, thincking it possible to appease its desites in them: but so soone as thou meetest with them and tastest them, thou art as readie to beginn againe as before: for nothing is able to content thy hart, God would not permitt that it should find rest in any place, no more then the Doue that Noah sent out of the Arke, that so it might allways earne to returne to God, from whence it came. Ah how admirable is this natu­rall beautie of thy soule! and why then doest thou endeuour to withhold her against her will, to serue these fading creatures?

4. Oh my faire and louely soule (mayst thou say) thou canst vnderstand and loue God him self: and wherfore doest thou entertaine thy self in things inferiour to God? thou mayest yf thou wilt, pretend eternitie, wherfore doest thou hunt after moments? This was one of the chiefest complaints of the prodigall child, that wheras he might haue feasted deliciously at his fathers table, he was forced through his owne willfullnesse, to feed at the troughs of his swine. O my soule, thou art capable of God him self: woe be to thee, yf thou rest contented with any thing lesse then God.

Lifte vp thy soule earnestly with this consideration: shew her that she is immortall, and an heire of eternitie, and therefore that she direct her course and courage therto.

The second consideration of the excellency of virtues. CHAP. 11.

1. CONSIDER that only virtue and deuotion, can make thy soule to rest content in this world. O what excellent beautie is in [Page 115] them! make a comparison betwixt the louely virtues, and the hideous vices that be cōtrarie vnto thē: what sweetnes is there in patience compared to reuen­ge? in meeknes in respect of anger and frowardnes? in humilitie in regard of pride and ambition? In liberalitie com­pared to couetousnesse & nigardize? in charitie compared with enuie? in so­brietie, in respect of intemperancie? vir­tues haue this excellencie, that they fill the soule with an incōparable sweetnes and delight, after she hath practized them: wheras vices leaue the soule ex­ceedinglie weeried, tyred, and molested. And why endeuour we not then to ob­taine these pleasures, that haue no gall nor bitternes mingled with them?

2. He that hath but a few vices, is not content with the delights which they bring him: and he that hath manie, is malcontēt with the cumber of them. He that hath but a few virtues, hath a great deale of content in them: and the more his contentment is, the more his virtues increase.

3. O deuout life how louely art thou, how honorable, how delectable! thou [Page 116] dost diminish tribulations, and aug­mentest consolation: without thee, euen good is euil, honnie pleasures are full of bitter vnquietnes, peace it self is warre, and trouble, and contradiction. Ah he that would be acquainted fami­liarlie with thee, must still say with the Samaritan, O Lord giue me some of this wa­ter to drinck: an aspiration much fre­quented by the holie mother Teresa, and Saint Catherin of Genua, although vpon other occasions.

The third consideration of the examples of Sainctes. CHAPTER 12.

1. CONSIDER the examples of the saincts of all sorts & orders: what is it that they haue not done and suffered, to loue God, and be whollie deuoted and addicted to his seruice? Look vpon the inuincible martyrs in their constant resolutions, what torments haue they not suffered for the maintenance and performance of their holy purposes? But aboue all [Page 117] those faire and flourishing ladies whiter then lillies, in puritie, more blushing then roses in charitie, some at twelue, others at thirteen, fifteen, twentie, fiue and twentie yeares of age: consider how they endured a thousand sorts of mar­tyrdoms, rather then to renounce their sacred resolutions, not onely in pro­fession of faith, but also in exercise of deuotion and pietie: some choosing to die rather then lose their virginitie: others rather then they would leaue off seruing the tormented prisoners, com­fort the afflicted, burie the dead, and such like holy works of Gods seruice. O good Lord what constan­cie hath that fraile sex shewed in the­se occasions!

2. Consider so manie holie confes­sours, with what valour and magnani­mitie did they contemne the world? How immoueable and vnconquered were they in their resolutions? no­thing in this vniuersall world could make them forgoe them, they embra­ced their purposes of sanctitie without exceptions or reseruations, and went forward with them, without any te­diousnesse [Page 118] or faintnes. Good God, what excellent things doth. S. Austin write of his holie mother Monica? with what courage did the folow her en­terprize of seruing God, in her marria­ge, and her widow-head? And Saint Hierom, what rare constancie doth he point out in his deuout Paula, amidst so great varieties of combrous occur­rences.

3. And what is there that we may not doe, hauing such excellent pater­nes to folow? They were fraile mor­tall men, as we are; they did all for the same God, by the same virtues: why should not we doe the like in our estate and condition, and accor­ding to our vocation, for the accom­plishment of our good purpose and ho­lie protestation?

The fourth consideration: of the loue that Iesus-Christ beareth vnto vs. CHAPTER 13.

1. [...] [...] vnspeakeable [...] Iesus Christ [Page 119] our Lord suffered so much in this world, and especiallie in the garden of mount Oliuet, and the bitter place of mount Caluarie. All that loue of his was for thy sake: By so manie pangs and torments, he obtained of God the father good purposes and holy reso­lutions for thee: by the same afflictions did he moreouer purchase all things els necessarie for thie soule, to main­teine, nourish, strengthen, and bring to full growthe and perfection, all thy re­solutions. O holy resolution, how pre­tious and noblie borne art thou, being daughter to such a mother as is the passiō of our Saueour! O how carefullie should my soule cherrishe thee, since thou hast been so deere vnto my sweet Iesus! Alas, ô Saueour of my soule, thou diedst vpon the Crosse, to gaine me my virtuous resolution! ah doe me the fauour, that I also choose ra­ther to die, then to forget or forgoe them.

2. Thou seest then (my Philotheus) it is certaine, that the deere hart of our Lord Iesus, beheld thy hart from the tree of the crosse, and there (in a [Page 120] manner) fell [...] and for loue of it, of [...] thee all the good that euer [...], or euer shalt haue; and [...] these good resolutions. [...] Philotheus) we may all say wi [...] [...] [...]ophet Iere­mie: O my Lord, [...] my beeing thou beheldest me, and calledst me by my name: for in [...], his diuine goodnes in his [...] loue, prepa­red all the generall, and particular mea­nes of our sal [...]tion, and consequently all our holie [...]. Yea without doubt: As a woman, so soone as she is with child prepareth her cradle, linnen, swathing-bāds, and withall bethincketh of a nurse for her child, which she ho­peth to bring foorth, although it be not yet come into the world: euen so our Lord, hauing his goodnes pregnant, and as it were great with child of thee, pretending to bring thee foorth to saluation, and to make thee his dau­ghter and heire, prepared vpon the holie roode, all that which was necessa­rie for thee, thy spirituall cradle, thy linnen and swathing bands, thy nurse, and all other meanes necessarie for thy [Page 121] saluation: that is, all the wayes, all the graces, all the [...], by which he conducteth thy soule, and will bring it at length to perfection.

3. Ah my God, how deeply ought we to imprint this in our memorie! Is it possible, that I haue beene loued, and so sweetly beloued by my Saueour, that euerie steppe of his life, and euen euery stepp that he went to mount Caluarie, sweating and fainting vnder his heauie crosse, euen then he went bethincking him self of my good, and of euerie one of these litle occasions, by which he hath drawen me vnto him! And how much then ought we esteeme, how carefully should we employe all this to our commoditie! Ah how sweet a remembrance is this? This louing hart of my God, thought vpon Philotheus, loued him, procured him a thousand meanes to saluation: as though there had been no other soule in the world, to take care of; As the sunne, shining vpon one side of the earth, shineth so much there, as yf it gaue no light to anie other place: in the verie same manner, did [Page 122] our Lord take thought and care of all his children, prouiding for each one of vs, as though he had not thought vpon the rest. He hath loued me (sayth S. Paul) and hath giuen him self for me. As yf he had sayde: for me onelie, altogether as much as yf he had done nothing for anie els. O Philotheus, this should be engraued in thy soule, to cherrish and nourish thy good resolutions, which haue beene so pretious and deere to the hart bloud of our bles­sed Saueour.

The fifte consideration, of the eternall loue of God toward vs. CHAPTER 14.

1. CONSIDER the eternall loue which almightie God bare vnto thee: for long before our Lord Iesus Christ as mā suffered for thee vpō the crosse: his diuine maiestie did fo­recast thee in his soueraigne goodnes, and loued thee infinitly. But when [Page 123] began he to beare thee this loue? euen when he began to be God. And when began he to be God? sure he neuer be­gan to be God, for he hath always been God, without beginning and without ending, and so likewise from all eterni­tie did he loue thee: his loue to thee neuer had beginning, and therfore did he from all eternitie prepare the graces benefits & fauours bestowed vpon thee. So saith he him self by his prophet: I haue loued thee with a perpetuall charitie, therfore haue I drawne thee vnto me, taking pitie of thee. Amongst other benefits then which he thought vpon from all eternitie to giue thee, needs must thou account thy purposes and resolutions to serue him.

2. And ô good God, what excellent, how deere ought these resolutiōs to be vnto thee, since God hath fore thought, premeditated and forecast thē from all eternitie? what should we not suffer ra­ther then to suffer one onelie iott or title of them to be taken away or dimi­nished. All the world together must not make vs forgoe the least of our good purposes: for all the word toge­ther [Page 124] is not worthe one soule: and a soule is worth nothing, withour good resolutions.

Generall affections vpon the precedent poincts, or considerations, with the conclusion of this exercise. CHAPTER 15.

1. O AMIABLE resolutions! you are to me the beautiful tree of life, which my God hath plan­ted with his owne hand, in the midst of my hart: and my redeemer hath watred with his life dropping bloud to make it fructifie; rather will I suffer a thousand deaths thē endure that one of you should be hindred. No, neither vanitie, nor de­lights, nor riches, nor sorowes, nor tri­bulations, shall euer be able to pull me from my holie designes and purposes.

2. Alas ô my Lord, it is thou that hast planted this tree of good resolutions, and from eternitie kept it in the bo­some of thy fatherlie prouidence, to place it in the garden of my soule: O how manie soules are there, which haue not beene fauoured in so high a [Page 125] degree: and how then shall I be able to humble my self prefoundly enough vnder thy mercie?

3. O beautifull and holy resolutions? If I keep your charitie, you will saue me eternallie: yf you liue still in my soule, my soule will liue in you; liue then for euer ô my good resolutions, as you were eternally and for euer in the mercie of my God, liue and re­maine eternallie in me, for I will neuer abandon or forsake you.

4. After these affections, thou must particularize, and forecast in especiall, the meanes necessarie to mainteine these good purposes: and protest to vse these meanes faithfullie, and dili­gentlie, as are, frequent prayer, often vse of the Sacraments, good works of mercie, amendment of the faults, which in the second point of this ex­ercise thou shalt haue discouered, cut­ting off ill customs, and folowing the councells and aduices, which thy spirituall guide shall prescribe thee.

5. This done, as yf thou hadst taken breath a while, and rested thy self well, protest againe a thousand times, [Page 126] that thou meanest vnfainedlie to con­tinue in thy resolutions: And as yf thou hadst thy hart, thy soule, thy will in thy hands, dedicate them, consecrate them, sacrifice them to God, with protesta­tion that thou wilt neuer aske them againe, neuer redemaund them, but leaue them alwais entirely in the hands of his diuine maiestie, to folow in all things his holy ordenance.

6. Pray vnto God that he would whol­lie renewe thee, and blesse this renoua­tion of thy protestation and firme re­solution: that he would fortifie thee and strengthen thee therin: inuoke the blessed Virgin, thy Angell, the Saints, and especiallie those to whome thou bearest particular deuotion.

7. Being thus moued and inflamed by Gods grace in thy hart, go to the feet of thy confessour, accuse thy self of the principall faults committed since thy last generall confession: and receaue the absolution with the self same trace and effect with which then thou didst: and pronounce thy protestation be­fore him, seale and signe it: and so goe againe to vnite thy hart now [Page 127] renewed and reformed, to thy Saueour and Lord, in the holy sacrament of the Eucharist.

Feeling thoughts to be kept in mind after this exercise. CHAPTER 16.

1. THE day folowing this reno­uation of thy hart, and some dayes after, it wilbe profitable to repeat oft times in thy hart to thy self & by mouth likewise, those ardent speeches which S. Paul, S. Augustin, S. Catherin of Genua, and other saints vsed: I am now no more mine owne man: whether I liue or die, I am my Sa­ueours altogether: I haue no more in me these cold words, of me, and mine: my me, is Iesus, and my mine, is to be wholly Christs: O world thou art all wayes thy selfe: and I likewise he that haue beene always my self, but from hence foorth I wilbe my self no longer. No my soule, we wilbe no longer our selues, as we haue been: [Page 128] we will haue another hart, another affe­ction, and the world that hath so often deceaued vs, shall now be deceaued in vs: for not marking our change but by litle and litle, he will think vs always to be Esau, and we will proue Iacob.

2. All these exercises must repose, and settle in our harts: and whē we lay a side for the time consideration and medita­tion, we must enter by litle and by litle, and not all at a clap into our ordinarie affaires, for feare least the pretious li­quour of our good resolutions, distilled so diligently out of these cōsiderations, be not sodainlie ouerturned, and spilt: it must soke first as it were, and sinck well into all the partes of our soule, yet without too much application of spirit or bodie.

An answer to two obiections, which may be made against this Intro­duction. CHAP. 17.

1. THE world may chaunce to tell thee, my Philotheus, that these exercises and aduices are so manie in number, that he that would [Page 129] practize thē, had need to applie him self to nothing els, but let all other affaires alone. Ah Philotheus, yf in deed we did nothing els, we should do well enough, since, so we should doe that, which to doe, we were placed in this world. But doest thou not see the decept? No doubt yf all these exercises were to be performed euery day, they would busie vs enough, & take vp most of our time. But it is only required to practize them euery one in their time and place, as they come in their turne. How many lawes are there in the Digestes, & Code which must be kept and obserued? but all men know and vnderstād that theire obseruāce is required, according to the occurrences of occasions and actions, not that one should practize them all euery day. Otherwise, the holy king Dauid, practized manie more spirituall exercises in a day, amidst his waightie affaires, then I haue heer prescribed. S. Lewes an admirable king both in peace and in warre, and that with a wonderfull care, administred iustice, and managed affaires of state: was woont to hear two masses euery day, to say euensong, and [Page 130] complin with his chaplain, had euerie day sett time to meditate; and visited hospitalls verie often: euerie wednesday cōfessed & disiplined him selfe verie oft; heard holy sermons, and vsed spirituall conferences: and for all this, neuer omitted one the least occasion of the publique weale exteriourly offered, which he did not most diligently put in execution: and his Court was more gallant, more frequented, more flou­rishing, then euer it had been in time of his predecessours. Practize then the­se exercises cheerfully, as I haue pre­scribed them: and God will allott vnto you time, leasure, and strength enough to doe your other affaires: though he should make the sunne for that end to stay his course, as he did for his seruant Iosua. We worke enough always, when God works with vs.

2. The world will say againe, that al­most throughout all this book I pre­suppose, that my Philotheus, hath recea­ued of God the guifte of mental prayer, and yet euerie man hath it not: so that, this introduction wil not serue for eue­ry bodie. Tis true, without all doubt, [Page 131] I presuppose it: and it is true too, that euerie man hath not the guifte of men­tall prayer; but it is likewise true that al­most euery man may obtaine that pre­tious guifte, euen the most rude and vnlearned: so that they haue good spi­rituall maisters and guides, and that they themselues would vouchsafe to take as much paines in the searche of it, as in it self it requires. And yf there be any, that in no sort nor degree hath this pretious guift (which I thinck can happen but verie seldom) a sage condu­ctour and maister, will easilie supplie that want, by making them to read, or hear read, these meditatiōs and con­siderations, with good heed and at­tention.

Three pricipall aduices for this introduction. CHAPTER 18.

1. THE first day of euerie mouth, repeate and renew the prote­station [Page 132] set downe in the first part at the end of the meditations: and protest at all times to haue a will & pur­pose to keep euery point of it, saying with Dauid: No my God, neuer will I forget thy iustification, for in them thou hast giuen mee life. And when thou findst any spirituall battail in thy soule, take in hand the self same protestation, and prostrate in spirit with all humili­tie, pronounce it all from thy hart, and thou shalt find great ease in thy conflict.

2. Professe to all the world, that thou desirest to be deuout, be not ashamed of that holy desire and profession. I say, make profession of a true desire of deuotion, and not, make profes­sion of deuotion: blush not to vse those common and ordinarie actions, which helpe vs to obtaine the loue of God: aduow and admitt hardyly, that thou doest thy endeuour to meditate, and thou hadst rather dye then sinne mor­tally. That thou wilt by Gods grace, frequent the sacraments, and folow the counsels of thy ghostly father (though for good considerations it be not [Page 133] expedient to name him). For this franck and free confession of Gods ser­uice, that wee are with a speciall affe­ction consecrated and addicted to his loue: is most acceptable to the diuine maiestie, who by no meanes alloweth his seruants, to be ashamed of his cros­se. Besides, this open profession, cuts of manie a summon, manie an intice­ment, which the world would make to the contrarie: and bidds vs to stand vpon our reputation, in the constant poursuite of deuotion. The philoso­phers, openly professed them selues to be philosophers, that so mē might per­mitt them to liue Philosophicallie: and we must make our selues knowne to be louers of deuotion and holy ex­ercises, that men may lett vs liue de­uoutly. Yf any man tell thee, that one may liue deuoutly without the practize of these exercises and aduices: denie it him not, but answer him louingly, that thy weaknes is so great, that thou standest in much more need of helpe, then other men doe.

3. Last of all, I coniure and entreat thee, my deere Philotheus, by all that [Page 134] which is holie in heauen and earth, by the baptisme which thou hast re­ceaued, by the sweet milk of mercie which thou hast sucked from the brests of our Lord Iesus, by the most louing hart, in which thou placest all thy hope and confidence: Continue and per­seuer in this happie enterprize of spi­rituall life. Our dayes runn on a pace, death is hand at our gate, The trompett soundeth the retreat (sayth Saint Gre­gorie Nazianzen) lett euery man be reade, for the iudge is at hand. Saint Symphorians mother seing him ledd to martyrdom, cried after him: my sonne, my sonne, remember euerla­sting life, look vp to heauen, and thinck vpon him that raignes there, a short end will quickly end the course of this life. I say the same to thee (my Philotheus) look vp to heauen, and leaue it not for this base earth; thinck vpon hell, and cast not thy self into that dreadfull gulfe for mo­ments of pleasures; remember Iesus Christ, denie him not for the worlde: and though the labour of a deuout life, seeme hard vnto thee, sing me­rilie [Page 135] with Saint Frauncis:

Since heauen is for my paines assignd'
Paines are sweet passetimes to my mind.

Liue for euer sweet Iesus, to whome wtih the Father, and holy Ghost, be all honour and glorie, now and alway, and for euer and euer. Amen.

THE ERRATA.

Pag. 14 line 13. Picaustes, reade, Piraustes. p 17. l. 24. many soules, reade, of many soules. p. 37. l. 23. of riches, reade, of the rich. p. 39. l. 26. foules, reade, soules. p. 68. l. 3. were created, reade, we were created. p. 91 l. 17. infinitle, reade, infinite, p 91, l. 19 Certefie, reade, Terrefie. p. 95. l. 11. pight, reade, right. p. 120 l. 18. of, reade, or. p. 135 l. 22. forces, reade, species. p. 139. l. 2. thy, reade, the. p. 141. l. 20. of, reade, or. p. 172. l. 12. this, reade, his. p. 191. l. 22. Consiliat, reade, Conflict. p. 235. l. 19. perfections, reade, thinges. p. 277. l. 20. king, reade, kinde. p. 337. l. 12. and, reade, it. & l. 13. it, and. p. 344. trade, reade, trace. p. 365. l. 22. cordes, reade, the cordes. l. 376. l. 16. back, reade, lack. p 377. l. 4. turne, reade, tame. p. 405. l. 26. word, reade, world. p. 21. l. 6. part the fourth, fore, reade, fire.

If there be any other faultes escaped, I pray the gētle reader of his curtesie to correct them.

A TABLE OF THE CHAPTERS.

THE FIRST PART OF THE INTRODVCTION: Conteyning aduices and exercises re­quisite for the cōduct of a soule frō her very first desire of a deuout life, vntill she be brought to a full resolution to embrace it stedfastly in all her actiōs.
  • WHAT a deuoute life is. Chap. 1. pag. 28
  • The property and excellency of Deuotion. Chap. 2. 35
  • That deuotion is an instrument, and an orna­ment befitting all vocations and professions. Chap. 3. pag. 40
  • The necessitie of a guide to enter and go for­ward in exercises of deuotion. Chap. 4. 44
  • That the begining of a deuout life, must be ta­ken frō the purgation of the soule. Ch. 5. 50
  • Of the first Purgation: which is, from mortall sinnes. Chap. 6. 54
  • [Page]The second Purgation: which is from the af­fections of sinne. Chap. 7. 57
  • Of the meanes of applying this second Purga­tion. Chap. 8. 61
  • The 1. Meditation; of our Creation. Cha. 9. 64
  • The second Meditation; of the end, for the which we were created. Chap. 10. 68
  • The third Meditation; of the Benefits of God. Chap. 11. 71
  • The fourth Meditation: of sinne. Cha. 12. 76
  • The fifte Meditation: of Death. Cha. 13. 80
  • The sixt Meditation: of Iudgment. Ch. 14. 85
  • The seuenth Meditation: of Hell. Cha. 15. 89
  • The eight Meditation: of Paradice. Ch. 16. 92
  • The ninth Meditation; by way of election or choise of Paradise. Chap. 17. 96
  • The tenth Meditation; by way of election and choice which the soule maketh of the deuout life. Chap. 18. pag. 100
  • How to make a generall Cōfession. Ch. 19. 105
  • An authenticall protestation, seruing to en­graue in thy soule a firme resolution to serue God, and to conclude the actes of Penaunce. Chap. 20. p. 108
  • A deuoute manner to receaue absolution. Chap. 21. p. 112
  • That we must purifie our selues frō the affectiōs which we haue to veniall sinnes. Ch. 22. 114
  • [Page]That we ought to purifie our selues from affe­ction and delight of vnprofitable and dan­gerous things. Chap. 23. 119
  • That we must purge our selues, from bad inclinations. Chap. 24. 122
THE SECOND PART OF THIS INTRODVCTION: Containing diuers aduices for the lifting vp of the soule to God by prayer, and by vse of the Sacraments.
  • OF the necessity of prayer. Chap. 1. 124
  • A breef method of meditation. And first of the presence of God, which is the first point of Preparation. Chap. 2. 131
  • Of Inuocation, the second point of Prepara­tion. Chap. 3. 136
  • Of the third point of preparation, consisting in proposing the mystery which we meane to meditate. Chap. 4. 138
  • Of the considerations and discources of our vnderstanding; which are the second part of meditation. Chap. 5. 141
  • Of the affects and resolutions of our will, the third part of meditation. Chap. 6. 143
  • Of the conclusion of the exercise, and spirituall posy to be gathered out of it. Chap. 7. 145
  • Some profitable instructions and aduices for [Page] meditation. Chap. 8. 148
  • Of the drynesse of affection, which often hap­peneth in meditating. Chap. 9. 154
  • A morning exercise. Chap. 10. 157
  • An exercise for Euening. And of the examina­tiō of our cōsciece before bed time. Ch. 11. 160
  • Of the spirituall retyring of the soule C. 12 163
  • Of aspirations, iaculatory prayers, and good thoughts. Chap. 13. 168
  • How we ought to heare the holy Masse. c. 14. 179
  • Of other publique & cōmō exercises. C. 15. 184
  • Of honour & inuocatiō of the Saincts. c. 16. 187
  • How we ought to heare and read Gods holie word. Chap. 17. 190
  • How to receaue inspirations. Chap. 18. 193
  • Of holy Confession. Chap 19. 199
  • Of frequēting the holy Cōmuniō. Ch. 20 208
  • How we ought to Communicate. Ch. 21. 215
THE THIRD PART OF THE INTRODVCTION: Containing sundrie rules and aduices, concerning the exercise of virtues.
  • OF the choice which we must make in the exercise of virtue. Chap. 1. pag. 220
  • An addition to the former discource, about choice in the exercise of virtues. Ch. 2. 231
  • [Page]Of Patience. Chap. 3. 239
  • Of exteriour Humilitie. Chap. 4. 249
  • Of humility more internall then the former. Chap. 5. pag. 256
  • That humilitie maketh vs loue our owne de­basement and abiection. Chap. 6. 266
  • How to keep our good renowne in the pra­ctize of humility. Chap. 7. 275
  • Of meeknes & gentlenes towardes our neigh­bours; and remedie against anger. Ch. 8 284
  • Of sweetnes and gentlenes towardes our sel­ues. Chap 9. 293
  • That we must handle our affaires with dili­gence, but not with to much eagrenes, and solicitude. Chap. 10. 298
  • Of Obedience. Chap. 11. 302
  • Of the necessity of Chastity. Chap. 12. 307
  • Aduices how to preserue chastity. Ch. 13. 315
  • Of pouerty of spirit, to be obserued in riches. Chap. 14. p. 320
  • How to practise true and reall pouerty, re­mayning notwithstanding reallie riche. Chap. 15. pag. 326
  • How to practize richnes of spirit, in reall po­uertie. Chap. 16. 335
  • Of frindship: and first of fond, and fruictlesse frindship. Chap. 17. 339
  • Of loue, and loue to yes. Chap. 18. 343
  • [Page]Of trew frindship. Chap. 19. 350
  • The difference betwixt true and vaine frind­ship. Chap. 20. 356
  • Aduices and remedies against naughty frind­ships. Chap. 21. 361
  • Other aduices of the same subiect, of fond amities. Chap. 22. 368
  • Of the exercises of exteriour mortification. Chap. 23. p. 372
  • Of companie, and solitarinesse. Cha. 24 384
  • Of decēcy and hādsomnes in attire. Ch 25. 390
  • Of talke. And first how to speak of God. Chap. 26. pag. 394
  • Of courtesie in talk, and due respect of per­sons. Chap. 27. 397
  • Of rash iudgement. Chap. 28. 401
  • Of slaunder and back-biting. Cha. 29. 412
  • Other aduices and instructions to be obserued in talke. Chap. 30. 424
  • Of honest and commendable pastimes and re­creations. Chap. 31. 428
  • Of dauncing and some other passetimes which are lawfull, but dāgerous withall. Ch. 32 430
  • The times to sport and dance. Chap. 33. 435
  • To be faithfull and cōstant in great and small occasions. Chap. 34. 437
  • That we must keep our soule iust and reaso­nable, in all her actions. Chap. 35. 442
  • [Page]Of desires. Chap. 36. 447
  • Aduertisments for those which are maried. Chap. 37. 452
  • Of the honestie and chastitie of the marriage­bed. Chap. 38. 468
  • Instructions for widdowes. Chap. 39. 476
  • A word or two to Virgins. Chap. 40. 486
THE FOVRTH PART OF THE INTRODVCTION: Containing necessary instructions, against those tentations which are most ordinarily incident, to those that endeuour to liue spiritually.
  • THAT we must not regard the scoffes and mocking taunts of the children of this world. Chap. 1. 1
  • That we must haue continually a good and manfull courage. Chap. 2. 7
  • The nature of tētatiōs, & the differēce between feeling them, and consenting to them. C. 3. 11
  • Two fitt exāples of the for sayd matter. C. 4. 16
  • An encouragement to the soule vexed with temptation. Chap. 5. 21
  • How tentation and delectation may be sinne. Chap. 6. 24
  • Remedies against great and vehement ten­tations. Chap. 7. 29
  • [Page]That we must diligently resist, euen the least tentations that are. Chap 8. 33
  • Remedies against these lesser tēptatiōs. C. 9. 35
  • How to strengthen our hart against tempta­tions. Chap. 10. 38
  • Of vnquietnes of mind. Chap. 11. 41
  • Of sadnesse. Chap. 12. 47
  • Of spirituall and sensible consolatiōs, and how one must behaue him self in them. Ch. 13. 48
  • Of drynesse and barrennesse in our spirituall exercises. Chap. 14. 67
  • The former discourse is explained and confir­med by a notable example. Chap. 15. 79
THE FIFTH PART OF THE INTRODVCTION: Cōtaining exercises & instructiōs to renew the soule, & cōfirme deuotion.
  • THAT we renew euery yeare our good purposes by the exercises folowing. C. 1. 87
  • Consideratiōs vpō the benefits which God doth vnto vs, by calling vs to his seruice, according to the protestatiō mentioned before. C. 2. 90
  • The examination of our soule touching her proffiting in deuotion. Chap. 3. 95
  • An examination of the estate of our soule towards God. Chap. 4. 98
  • An examination of our estate touching our [Page] selues. Chap. 5. 103
  • An examination of the estate of our soule towardes our neighbour. Chap. 6. 105
  • An examination of the affections of our soule. Chap. 7. 107
  • Affections to be exercised after this exami­nation. Chap. 8. 109
  • Considerations proper to renew our good pur­poses. Chap. 9. 111
  • The first consideration, of the excellency of our soule. Chap. 10. 112
  • The second consideration of the excellency of virtues. Chap. 11. 114
  • The third consideration of the examples of Sainctes. Chap. 12. 116
  • The fourth consideration: of the loue th [...] Iesus-Christ beareth vnto vs. Cha. 13. 11 [...]
  • The fifte consideration, of the eternall loue [...] God toword vs. Chap. 14. 122
  • Generall affectiōs vpon the precedent poincts, or considerations, with the conclusion of this exercise. Chap. 15. 124
  • Feeling thoughts to be kept in mind after this exercise. Chap. 16. 127
  • An answer to two obiections, which may be made against this Introduction. Ch. 17. 128
  • Three principall aduices for this Introduction. Chap. 18. 131
FINIS.

THE COMMVNICATION OF DOCTOVR THAVLERVS with a poore beggar, wherein is compre­hended the example of a perfect man, and how we should resigne our selues in all thinges vnto the good pleasure of God.

THERE was on a tyme a great diuine, who prayed vnto God the space of 8. yea­res, that it might be his good pleasure, to direct him to a man, that might instruct and teach him the true way of vertu. And it hap­pened beinge in this desyer, that he heard a voice from heauen, which sayd vnto him, goe vnto such a Church portch, and there thou shalt finde a man that wil instruct thee in the spiritual life. He walking then towards the sayd Church, founde a poore begger, who had his feete filthye and foule, and al naked, whose clothes were not worth a halfe penny; and he saluted him in this sort: God giue you good morrow, [Page] my frind. The poore mā answered him, Sir, I do not remember that euer I had an euil morow. The Doctour sayd vnto him; God giue you a good and hap­pye life: wherfore saye you that? quothe the begger vnto him; for I was neuer vnhappie. Which the Doctor not vn­derstāding, sayd vnto him againe; God blesse you my frinde, I pray you speake a littel more clearlye, for I know not what you meane. Then the poore beg­gar answered him; Good master Do­ctour, I shall doe it willinglye: you know you badde mee good morrow, wher vnto I replyed, that I had neuer any ill morrow, for when I haue hun­ger, I prayse God: if it freese, haile, snow, rayne, be it fayre or foule, I giue prayse to God; though I be poore, miserable, and despised of each on, I giue thankes vnto God. And therfore I neuer had any euil morow: you did wish vnto mee also, a good and happy life; wher vnto I made you answere, that I was neuer vnfortunate, because I haue learnt alwayes to resigne my selfe vnto the wil of God being certaine that al his workes cannot be but very good: by [...] whereof, al that happeneth vnto [Page] mee by his permission, be it pr [...]ritye or aduersitye, sweete or sower, I receaue it as from his owne hande with greate ioy and comfort, and therfor I was neuer vnfortunate, for I neuer de­syred any thinge but the good pleasure of God; which the poore man hauinge sayde: the Doctor answered: but what would you say, my frinde, if God would damne you? If God would damne mee, sayd the poore man, verely if he would vse mee so hardlye, I haue two armes to imbrace him; the one whereof is a profounde humilitye, by the which I am vnited vnto his holy humanitye: the other is loue, and charitye, which ioyneth mee vnto his [...], by which I would imbrace [...] in such sort, that he should be conitrayned to descende with mee into hel. And I had rather without comparison, be in hel with God, then to be without him in paradise. The Doctor learnt in this communication, that a trew resigna­tion, accompanied with profounde hu­militye of hart, is the shortest [...] to attaine vnto the loue of God. [...] that he asked of him againe, from [...] he came? Vnto whom he made [...] [Page] [...] Doctor in­ [...] [...] he had found [...] and him, quoth he, so soone [...] and forsaken all [...] where didest thou leaue [...]? replyed the Doctor. I left him, [...] [...]ed the begger, with the pure and [...] hattes, and amongst men of [...] wille. But who art thou, my frind, [...] the diuine vnto him: The poore man made him answere, that he was a Kinge. And he askinge him where his [...]ingdom was; It is, quoth he, in my [...]; for I can so well rule, and go­ [...] my sences; as wel outward, as in­ [...]rd▪ that al my affections, and pas­ [...] [...] [...]nto reason; which king­ [...] is [...] doubte, more excellent, [...] al the kingdomes of this world. Moreouer the forsayde Doctor de­ [...]ded of him, who it was that had [...] him vnto so great perfection? [...] silence answered the poore man, [...] high and loftye meditations, & [...] I had with God. I could [...] nor cōfort in any crea­ [...] of the world, by meanes whereof, I [...] God, who wil comfort, [...] without ende. Amen.

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