SON, when any thing, though otherwiſe of great worth is not knowne, it is not much eſteemed, becauſe the excellency & worth therof is obſcured by the darknes of ignorance, and therby the due eſtimation is taken away. And this is the cauſe, wherefore the three Vowes, that be made in Religion, be not ſo eſteemed of ſome, euen Religious men themſelues, becauſe they vnderſtand not the worth, excellency, & profit therof. He cannot be free frō fault, who vnderſtandeth not what in regard of his ſtate he both may, and ought to know. Wherfore know thou (my Son) that the excellency of theſe vows is greater then many conceiue, neither are they of litle conſequence. And vnder the name of Vow, is vnderſtood an obligation of a Religious man made to God his Creatour, of performing and doing ſome better good. And ſith this obligation is very noble, ſpirituall, and diuine, euery religious man ought not without cauſe, diligently to ponder, reuerently to eſteeme, and exactly to obſerue the ſame.

2. That it is moſt noble, it cleerly appeareth by this; for that the will bindeth it ſelfe, which amongſt the faculties of the ſoule holdeth the principality, & firſt place, and hath a commaund ouer all the reſt of the powers. Againe, it is moſt noble, becauſe it is made to God, whoſe maieſty is infinite, & who is the authour of all true excellency. Moreouer becauſe it is made for a moſt noble end, namely the glory of Gods Name, which is the more amplified, the more exactly that obligation is kept. There is added further, that the vertue of Religion among all morall vertues excelleth for noblenes & dignity. Seeing therfore a Vow is an action of that moſt noble vertue that giueth light to all other vertues, it manifeſtly followeth, that a Vow is a moſt noble vertue. For what the tree is, the ſame be the fruits therof.

3. And that this obligation is ſpiritual and holy, is out of controuerſy; both becauſe it is directed to a ſpirituall good, namely to holines of life, and becauſe it is the very entrance and beginning of the ſpirituall life of Religious men. Whereupon as the life of the body dependeth on the hart as the beginning: ſo the religious life, and to be a religious man hath the dependance of this holy obligation. And as by the leaſt hurt of the hart, the life of body receiueth great hurt alſo, and the hart being taken away, the life is taken away togeather: euen ſo by the very leaſt default in the obſeruatiō of this obligation, the Religious life is much preiudiced, and that againe ceaſing, or taken away, a man ceaſeth to be Religious. The nearer the euill cometh to the hart, the more dangerous it is.

4. That this obligation is diuine, is alſo certaine, becauſe it is of the holy Ghoſt, who by his diuine inſpiration moueth a mans mind to the making of ſuch an obligation. Secondly, becauſe the perſon, to whome it is made, is diuine, that is, God himſelfe. Now let a Religious man conſider and ſee, how much he ought to loue it, with what regard to keep it, and with what deuotion, and care to obſerue it in all things that he is able, becauſe it is made to him, who penetrateth and entreth into the moſt inward ſecret of the hart, and well knoweth, who hath iuſt cauſe to obſerue it, and who not.

5. But now I would deſire to know of thoſe to whome it cauſeth ſome trouble and difficulty, that they be tyed in ſo noble and holy a band, what the cauſe is, that ſecular men haue them in ſo great regard, and veneration? They will ſay perhaps, becauſe they be religious and my ſeruants. And what made them religious and my ſeruants, but theſe three Vowes? Many ſecular perſons liue at this day in the world, far more learned, more holy, and more perfect then many Religious, and yet be they nothing ſo much honored, as religious men be; and the cauſe is, becauſe they be not tyed to me by theſe holy bands of Vowes. Secular men, when they behold Religious perſons, doe conſider them, as wholy mine, by three Vowes conſecrated to me, & what honour they do them, they thinke they giue to me. But this they do not to men of the world, though otherwiſe eminent for their vertue: and therfore to be tyed in theſe bands, is no contemptible matter, but moſt honorable, and moſt noble, euen to the world, ſith the Religious be in ſo great veneration with the great men of the world.

6. Theſe three Vowes againe be of very great regard, for that they cauſe the Religious to triumph victoriouſly, and to go away with victory ouer their three deadly enemies. For whils they exerciſe Pouerty againſt the vanity of the world, Chaſtity againſt the tentation of the fleſh, and Obedience againſt the frauds of the crafty diuell, they go eaſily away with victory. But thoſe Religious, who vſe not theſe kind of armes, are oftentimes ſhamefully ouercome. Let not him be a ſouldier, who will not take a weapon in hand, neither let him go to the battaile, who refuſeth to fight.

7. And now tell me, my Sonne, what thoſe Religious men deſerue, who make but light eſteeme of ſo holy, and godly an obligation, and what they alſo deſerue, who keep it not, when they may, & ought to keep it? What puniſhment attendeth them, who do not only breake it, but further contemne it alſo? O how ſtraite an accompt are they to make, not only of their owne tranſgreſſions, but alſo of thoſe of others, that is, of thoſe, who by their bad example were induced to violate and breake their Vowes they had before made vnto me. For promiſe by Vowe is not made to men, but to the diuine maieſty: it is not made vnwillingly, but voluntarily. Neither is the obligation therof concerning any light or temporall matter, but touching a great and ſpirituall matter, that is, the ſaluation of the Soule. He that lightly regardeth what he hath once promiſed to God, ſhall againe be as little regarded of God.

LORD, our Nature is ſo ſore depreſſed & ſurcharged with the weight of our owne miſeries, as I know not, whether it were good and profitable for a man to bind himſelfe by Vowes, ſith to me it ſeemeth nothing els, but to adde one burden to another, and conſequently much to be feared, leaſt in concluſion, ſeeing it is very weake, it fall vnder the burden. And more then this there be ſo many obligations, and bands of precepts impoſed partly by thee, partly by thy Church layd vpon vs, as it is almoſt impoſſible for vs to ſatisfy them; therefore it ſeemeth not good to ſurcharge our ſelues with new bands of Vowes. Neither doth there appeare ſo great vtility likely to redound vnto vs by the benefit of Vowes, but that there is preſented a greater daunger by tranſgreſſing, and breaking them. I add further, Lord, that fre and voluntary offices of deuotion are more accepted off by thee, then be the forced. But whoſoeuer ſhall make a Vow, is forced to ſtand to his promiſe, and therfore I ſee not, how great a vtility there is of Vowes.

2. Thou art deceiued, my Sonne. For Vowes be burdens that load not, but rather eaſe, & help nature it ſelfe to the exerciſing of all more noble works. The feathers and wings of byrdes carry a ſhevv of a burden, and yet they help to raiſe them aloft, and without which they cannot fly. Beſids, experience teacheth, that they be religious, who do moſt promptly & moſt exactly obſerue the commaundments of God: whence it appeareth, that by the benefit of Vowes they are holpen to obſerue the precepts of God, and of the Church, after a more exact, and perfect manner.

3. Thou art wide, if thou thinkeſt that any profit returneth to me by thy Vowes. It is not ſo. There is no ſowing, nor mowing for me heere. Promiſes made to men, redound to the profit of them to whome they be made, but the merit of the Vowes that are made to me, remaineth to the vtility of him who voweth: yea the honour & glory that of Vowes ariſe to me and my ſeruice, appertaineth alſo to the good of them that vow. For I do abundantly reward them, as I do ſeuerely chaſtiſe the bad workes, that be diſhonorable to piety, and to the ſeruice of God.

4. And where thou ſayſt, that by Vows all liberty is taken away, in ſo much as the Religious do all things of neceſſity, & therfore haue no merit of their works at all, thou art deceiued. For there be two neceſſities; one naturall, and this taketh away all liberty, merit, & commendation of all good works, ſuch as is the falling of a ſtone downwards. The other is voluntary, or proceeding of the will, or of a promiſe voluntarily made, and this doth not only not take away the merit of the good worke, but alſo much increaſeth it: for that both the worke, and the promiſe be voluntary and free. And this is the neceſſity ſo highly commended of the bleſſed in heauen, becauſe it did driue them to the exerciſing of the more noble, and more excellent workes. Happy is that neceſſity, which compelleth to what is better.

5. Moreouer thou muſt know, my Son, that the grief, & difficulty, which we otherwhiles find and feele in executing our promiſe of Vowes, doth not take away nor diminiſh in the Religious their merit, but rather increaſe it: for in fullfilling our Vows, there is not only done a good worke, but that heauines, repugnance, and difficulty is further ouercome, which indeed is a matter of no little conſequence. Howbeit to fullfill a good worke promiſed by Vow, though there occurre no difficulty in doing it, is more meritorious, then to fulfill it without any precedent Vow. For as I will declare after, the Vow it ſelfe is meritorious, which merit he hath not who doth a good worke, which he before promiſed to do without making a Vow.

6. There be other vtilityes, which vowes do bring to the Religious. For firſt vndoubted it is, that the tree, the deceper roote it ſhall take within the earth, bringeth forth the better fruite: Euen ſo mans will, the more ſtable it ſhal be in good, produceth the more noble works. And among the effects of Vowes one is, that it maketh the will more firme in good works. Who knoweth not, how various, and mutable mans will is: now it is willing, & within a while it is vnwilling, and what pleaſeth to day, diſpleaſeth to morrow. And doubtles it would be better, if the will were conſtant and ſtable in imbracing good, and that it may be ſtable and immutable, is effected by the benefit of Vowes. For ſo ſoone as a man ſhall h • ue made a Vow, he muſt performe it, neither may he reuoke it without ſinne: & that he may not go backe, is both profitable and good, and deriued from the very nature of a Vow. And of this it followeth, that a good worke proceeding from a will grounded in good, is better then other good workes, and deſerueth a more ample reward. As contrariwiſe a bad and hurtfull worke, comming from a peruerſe and obdurate will, is more deteſtable then other ill works, and meriteth a more ſore puniſhment. Would you haue a Lunatike perſon to do no hurt? Then bind him faſt vpon the firſt occaſion.

7. Another vtility nothing inferiour to the former, is this. Euery man will confeſſe, that it moſt profiteth a man, if he be moſt inwardly vnited to God Almighty. And this is effected by Vowes: for whiles a man by Vowes bindeth himſelfe to me, I am in like maner tyed againe faſt vnto him; and therfore if the Religious do by theſe ſacred bands bind themſelues faſt vnto me, & ſo become mine, how is it poſſible, that I ſhould not deliuer my ſelfe vnto them alſo? That I ſhould not help them, not defend them, not conſerue, & keep them, as a thing moſt deare vnto me? I ſhould not be what I am, if my creature ſhould go beyond me in liberality. Wherfore it is very agreable to reaſon, that ſeeing they haue moſt firmely conioyned themſelues to me the fountaine of Grace, I ſhould alſo communicate vnto them the flowing ſtreames of my grace, and my heauenly gifts, and take ſo great care of them, as neither the Diuell, nor any other creature may do them harme. The Religious liue ſo much the more ſecure, the more potent, and powerfull is their Lord, and Maiſter to whome they haue conioyned themſelues.

8. There is yet another vtility, that al good workes done by Vow, do merit more with God, then thoſe that are not done by Vow. He that keepeth chaſtity for loue of me, doth well, and meriteth: but he that for loue of me maketh a Vow of chaſtity & keepeth it, doth better and meriteth more. For the former exerciſeth but one vertue, that is, Continency: but the later exerciſeth two, namely Continency and Religion, the nobleſt of all morall vertues. Moreouer to promiſe a good worke, is a good thing: and to performe a promiſe is alſo good, and therfore for them both a man is held worthy of commendations and thanks. Let him then be more deare vnto thee, who beſtoweth more ſpirituall good vpon thee.

9. Seing ſo many benefits redound vnto vs by Vowes, as the ſtability of the will, the coniunction with God, and the merit of workes, I would be now glad to vnderſtand why ſome, when they ſhould moſt of all reioice, be ſory that they haue tyed themſelues by Vowes? What cauſe of grief ſhould they haue? For if theſe ſacred bands ſhould depriue them of ſome great commodity, they might haue iuſt cauſe of ſorrowing. But indeed they looſe none by it. For as a vine faſtned to a tree, or to a poſt, and therefore leſſe obnoxious and expoſed to the iniury of the winds, bringeth forth better and more abundant fruite, then if it were looſe and vntyed: Euen ſo be Religious perſons, by the benefit of theſe Vowes, are more ſtrong, and ſtable, and more free from tentations, and do yeld greater increaſe of good works, & therefore why ſhould they afflict themſelues with grief?

10. Euill muſt needs pleaſe him, who is ſorry for good, or complaineth therof. When good meate is hurtfull to a man, it is a ſigne that his ſtomake is infected and ſurcharged with bad humours, and therfore it is to be purged with ſome antitode, if he meane to preuent the hazard of his life. In like manner if the making of Vowes, which is good and holy, be to ſome Religious perſon troubleſome, it is a ſigne, that his mind is infected with ſome bad diſpoſition, which muſt be taken away and remoued by the ſpirituall Phiſitian, that the hazard of his ſpirituall death may be auoyded.

SONNE, how ſhould not the Vowes of the Religious be accepted by me, when as they be made for my honour and glory? How is it, that they ſhould not be deare to me, when as they be the meanes of attaining perfection, which I do ſo earneſtly deſire at their hands? O how much ſhould ſome earthly Lord glory, if his ſeruants ſhould make him any ſuch promiſe, he would no doubt exult for ioy, though he ſhould not be aſſured, whether they had done it in earneſt, & from their hart, for the loue of him their Lord, or in regard of their owne commodity. And ſhould not I, who am aſſured, that the Religious do from their hart make theſe Vowes, and only for loue of me bind themſelues to the performing of good and holy workes, reioyce, and be glad? Should not I make a demonſtration, how much they pleaſe me?

2. For there be three things, that do in particular pleaſe me in Vowes. Firſt the deuotion, wherewith the Vowes be made. Secondly the diligence, wherewith they are obſerued. Thirdly the ioy, that the Religious conceiue by occaſion of the making of their Vowes. Deuotion groweth of the conſideration of the excellency of the oblation, that is made in the Vowes. For the Religious man by a benefit of his three Vowes offereth himſelfe wholy in ſacrifice, without reſeruation of any part to himſelfe. And if the ſacrifices of the old law, which were of bulles and calues, were ſo pleaſing vnto me; how much ſhall theſe content me, which Religious men do voluntarily offer vnto me? And if I made ſo high eſteeme of Abrahams only will, when he was ready to ſacrifice his only Sonne vnto me, what a reckoning ſhould I make of the ſacrifice, that a Religious man maketh of himſelfe, by offering me his will, ſoule, body and all? Againe, Diligence ariſeth of the loue they carry towards me. He that loueth, cannot expect, or of ſlouth put of till another time, or prolonge that which he knoweth to be very pleaſing to the beloued. And in Religious life nothing pleaſeth me more, then the obſeruation of Vowes. Finally ioy for the Vowes made, groweth of this, that the Religious man conſidereth, how pleaſing this his oblation was vnto me. O how ſorely ſhould a Religious man offend me, if he ſhould be troubled, and grieued for a thing very well done, and moſt acceptable to me. It is no leſſe a ſinne to be ſorry for a good work, then to be glad of a bad one.

3. There be alſo other things, that make this Religious oblation moſt pleaſing to me, and cauſe me to make an high eſtimation therof, and that is, becauſe it hath the beginning of ſincere loue towards me. For firſt the Religious do by theſe three Vowes, as with three nayles, voluntarily nayle themſelues to the Croſſe for loue of me, not for three dayes alone, but for al their life. They do not only crucify their body with the nayle of Pouerty, and the ſenſes with the naile of Chaſtity, but their vnderſtanding alſo, and their owne iudgment with the naile of Obedience, by obeying their Superiours will rather, then their owne. The theefe that confeſſed me on the Croſſe whereon he did hang a very ſhort time, where he ſpake vnto his companion but one word in fauour of me, taſted ſo abundantly of my beſt loue towards him, as I made him that very day an inheritour of paradiſe. And why ſhould I not loue a Religious man hartily, who in regard of his Vowes made for loue of me, is bound to continue vpon the Croſſe all his life long? Why ſhould not his oblation be moſt pleaſing to me, who for the amplificatiō of my glory expoſeth himſelfe to all dangers, that he may preach my Ghoſpell, not by word alone, but, which is more, by example of life alſo?

4. Another cauſe, why I hold the oblation of a Religious perſon amongſt the things that be moſt deare vnto me, is, becauſe by theſe three Vows he doth wittingly and willingly giue me whatſoeuer he can giue. For whereas he doth by Vow yeald himſelfe wholy to my ſeruice, he giueth me not only the workes, but alſo the worker of them. Certes, a ſecular man neuer giueth me ſo much: for by doing well, he giueth me nothing but the fruite, and not the tree, whiles a Religious perſon giueth me the one and the other. This further pleaſeth me that the Religious in making their Vowes, make proteſtation, that they will not loue any other beſides me, nor ſerue any but me, and this not for a certaine time, but for all eternity. Moreouer the Religious conſecrate vnto me all their owne right & power of doing anything contrary to their Vow once made, and this pleaſeth me very much. A ſecular perſon, for example, who doth without making any Vow for loue of me renounce all his riches, doth indeed well, yet he reſerueth to himſelfe an intereſt and right of gathering riches togeather againe when he ſhall pleaſe: But a Religious man by making the Vow of Pouerty, depriueth himſelf not only of riches, but alſo of power of heaping or gathering of riches for the time to come, and of all propriety thereunto foreuer.

5. The third thing that in the obligation of Vowes pleaſeth me, is, that the Religious do by it not only giue all, but do it after the beſt and moſt perfect manner, that is, that I ſhould haue ſuch a comaund, power, and right ouer them, as I may vſe their ſeruice in whatſoeuer thing, where, when, and as much as ſhall pleaſe me. And hence it is, that the Religious ought not to vſe himſelfe, as a thing of his owne, but as mine, and conſecrated to me. Neither muſt he vſe his owne iudgment, where & when he liſteth, but at my pleaſure, becauſe I am his Lord, and not himſelfe. Wherefore know thou my Religious child, that he ſhal commit a grieuous ſacriledge, who would either take from me that which had beene formerly conſecrated & deliuered vnto me by Vowes, or vſurpe and vſe it at his owne pleaſure. The leſſe thou haſt, and the leſſe thou doſt after thine owne will, the leſſe will thy errour be, and the leſſe accompt thou ſhalt yield to God.

6. The fourth and laſt cauſe is, why I moſt of all approue and allow of the Vows of Religious perſons, is, for whereas the world which is a decevuer of ſoules, is hatefull to me, I am very glad, if the iuglings, frauds, and vanityes of it be diſcouered and laid open. And ſeing the Vowes of the Religious be cleane oppoſite to the world (for by vertue of them all the riches, pleaſures, honors, & other the worlds vanities be contemned) they cānot but be moſt acceptable. But conſider, my Child, that this contempt of the world is not to be manifeſted by an externall ſhew, or by words alone, but by facts and workes, and therefore it is not inough to haue made Vowes, but thou muſt further of neceſſity obſerue, and keep them. It is good to proclayme a defiance to thine enemy, but better it is to ouercome him. While, a Religious perſon performeth his Vowes, he declareth himſelfe an enemy to the world, but when he diſchargeth his promiſe made by Vow, he ouercommeth and vanquiſheth it quite.

SONNE, it is very agreable, that the Religious be furniſhed and prouided of the armes of three Vertues, which he hath promiſed by Vowes, to wit, Pouerty, Chaſtity and Obedience. When the ſouldier deſireth to imitate his Captaine, and to arme himſelfe with thoſe weapons which he doth, that he may manfully, according to his Captaynes pleaſure, fight with his enemy, he is worthy both of praiſe and reward. I am the Captaine and Generall of all the religious warfare who haue marched in the vanguard with theſe three Vertues, and haue ſhewed all my followers, how they ſhould fight with theſe armes I ouercame myne enemies, & triumphed ouer them; & therfore meet it is, that the Religious, who ſerue vnder my colours, and be to fight with the ſame enemyes, ſhould vſe and handle the ſame weapons, which if they do as they ought, they cannot but go out of the field victorious. The ſouldier, who endeauoureth to imitate his General, though he arriue not to his great ſtrength and courage, is neuertheles worthy of his reward.

2. It is further requiſite, that the Religious man caſt of all things, that may be of power to hinder his profit of ſpirit. A ſcholler is to do three things, that may make to his profit in humane literature. Firſt, he muſt remoue all the obſtacles and impediments of his ſtudyes, ſuch as be the pleaſures of the fleſh. Secondly ſuch things, as may hinder his true progreſſe in his ſtudyes, and thoſe be the cares of temporall goods, and helps. Thirdly, he muſt make choice of the moſt effectuall and beſt meanes for the taking of his maiſters leſſons, and that is, diligently to obey his maiſter, and the law of the Schoole. Theſe three obſtacles the Religious alſo remoue and take away by the benefit, and help of their Vowes. For by the Vow of Chaſtity they cut off all carnal delights: by that of Pouerty, the ſollicitude of temporall things: and by that of Obedience they fulfill the laws of their inſtitute and their Superiours precepts. To remoue the impediments of this ſpirituall way, is to walke on, and profit in ſpirit.

3. Sonne, ſith thou art abſolutly reſolued to renounce the world, and all the vanities therof, meet it is, thou giue it ouer, and forſake it in the perfecteſt manner that is poſſible. Some leaue it in affection, as do thoſe that haue no deſire of vanities at all, and they do well. Some forſake it indeed, as do they who imbrace a Religious ſtate, and theſe do better. Some againe leaue it both wayes, and they renounce it after a moſt perfect manner, and this do my Religious, when they vow Pouerty, Chaſtity, and Obedience. The further thyne enemy is from thee, the leſſe can he hurt thee.

4. The world vſeth three ſorts of nets, wherein many be caught. The firſt net is of gold and ſiluer, that is, of terrene riches, which becauſe it delighteth the eye, is loued of them who are within it, and is deſired of them who are out of it. This net the Religious eſcape by Vow of Pouerty. For pouerty, the veyle of concupiſcence being taken out of ſight, cauſeth, that though the net be made of gold and ſiluer, it ſeeme nothing but a net, and a ſore priſon to be in.

5. Another net is knit of the birdlime of pleaſures of the fleſh, wherein thoſe that be caught, the more they ſtirre, the more be they intangled and woone in it. From out of this net the Religious be deliuered by the Vow of Chaſtity, by the pure and milke white wings whereof they be raiſed aloft; and freed from the cleaning glew of carnall contentments, they become like vnto Angells.

6. The third net is rather an imaginary and phantaſticke one, then a ſolide & true net, wherein they be caught who preſume of themſelues, and ſeeke after the vayne honours and eſtimation of this world. The Religious auoyd this net by the Vow of Obedience, who as they ſubiect themſelues vnto others, ſo thinke they not of imbracing any other thing, then humility and contempt of themſelues. To liue in the world, and to haue beene caught in one of theſe nets, is no great matter; but to liue in in Religion, and to haue fallen into the worlds ſnares and nets, is a caſe to be exceedingly lamented.

7. There is yet another cauſe of congruity, that the Religious make the aforeſaid three Vowes, becauſe I haue choſen, and called them out of the world for the doing of ſome noble, great, and generous actions, & therfore they need a great, and ſtout courage, which they muſt declare and manifeſt by their worthy deeds: and the height & excellency of the Religious ſtate, wherein I haue placed them, exacteth no leſſe. For a man to be affected to theſe tranſitory and paſſing goods, argueth an abiect and baſe mind: in like manner to take a contentment in the pleaſures of the fleſh, is rather of beaſts then of men. Therfore agreable it is, that Religious be moſt far from both, and this they effect by their Vows, whiles they giue demonſtration of their generous mind, and by exerciſe of vertue auoyding that whereunto both nature & al the ſenſes do incline.

8. But Lord, I ſee not, what generoſity is manifeſted by the Vow of Obedience, by which the Religious do wholy ſubiect themſelues vnto others. Neither do I well conceiue, how contemptible a matter it is to be affected to riches, and pleaſures of this life, and is not a baſe thing alſo to obey, and ſerue another in the very leaſt, and moſt abiect things.

9. Sonne, thou eaſily diſcouereſt thy ſelf neither to vnderſtand, nor indifferently to examine matters. For if thou thinke, that the Religious by the Vow of Obedience be ſubiect to others then to me, thou art greatly deceiued. And if thou thinke, that to ſerue in baſe things for loue of me, or to be ſubiect to others by ordination from me, is an abiect thing, thou art much more deceyued. There is a far different manner of liuing in my Court, from that of the World, where the dignity is taken of the office that is exerciſed, and not of the end or ſcope that is aymed at, and therfore all ſeeke rather to haue a power and commaund ouer others, then to be commaunded, and in ſubiection; and all aſpi • e to dignityes and honours. And becauſe theſe be of greateſt regard with mē, therfore they alſo who be poſſeſſed of theſe honours, are in greateſt eſtimation, and be held for great men.

10. But the caſe is far different. For if the end for which any thing is done, be vile and abiect, the actions muſt needs alſo be abiect, and of the ſame nature. And where the louers of the world do all for an abiect end, as for the gaine of money, the eſtimation and opinion of a good name, vaine glory, reuenge, and the like, it conſequently followeth, that all their trauayles & actions muſt alſo be held moſt baſe. But in my court the eye and intention is eſpecially bent to the end, which am I, and from me all humane actions receiue and borrow their worth, and dignity. And where I reward all the actions, that my Religious friends, and children do for loue of me with euerlaſting glory, none of them ought to be reputed either little or abiect, but great and noble. And he who for loue of me ſubiecteth himſelfe to another, giueth an euident ſigne of a generous and great mind, becauſe he omitteth nothing, that may be pleaſing to me his Lord.

11. Wherfore thou muſt not my child, accompt that baſe and vile, which is done for loue of me, and for my glory, becauſe a conſideratiō is to be had not ſo much of the thing, as of the affection, & end for which it is done. It is not vile and abiect, that maketh an entrance into heauen, and is recompenſed with an heauenly reward: but that is truly vile, which creepeth vpon the earth, cleaueth faſt vnto it, and receiueth what is terrene & earthly, for a compenſation and reward.

LORD, if Religious Perfection conſiſt in perfect charity, and the coniunction with the ſupreme Good, which thou art; what need we to buſy our ſelues in other vertues, and leaue that which is our end. Thou knoweſt Lord, that charity is the Queen and Lady of all vertues, and of it dependeth all the law of grace, and therfore if we conuert all our cares, ſtudyes, and cogitatiōs to the purchaſing therof, we ſhould not labour much about the procuring of other vertues: for if we haue but that one vertue, we can want nothing.

2. It is true my Child, that the end & ſcope of Religious perfection is perfect charity, & vnion with me thy Creatour, but how canſt thou be able to attaine the end without the due meanes vnto it? How wilt thou be vnited with me, vnles thou remoue all the things that hinder thee? Wherfore vnderſtand thou, that, to that moſt inward vnion with thy Creatour, that is, with me, in which perfect charity conſiſteth, thou muſt come by internall affections of mind, conſpiring with the ſpirit of Religion, whereunto thou art called by me. And three things there be, that may hinder the humane affection, that it be not conioyned with me.

3. The firſt is the deſire of riches, and of other goods of Fortune, which when it ſhall once haue ſeazed vpon a part of a mans harts, ſuffereth not the whole man to come vnto me. Wherupon that yong man to whom I ſaid, that if he would be perfect, he ſhould ſell all that he had, and giue it to the poore, and then come and follow me, went his way ſad, becauſe he was ouer much deuoted to his poſſeſſions, which he had, many and great. This affection is taken away by the Vow of pouerty, whereby the Religious renounceth all that be poſſeſſeth in the world, that he may with all his affection, and loue vnite himſelfe with his Lord.

4. Another impediment and bar, is the loue of carnall and ſenſuall pleaſures, that he cannot ſee to vnite himſelfe with me, which conſiſteth in ſpirituall loue. Whereupon in a parable of the Ghoſpell a certaine man being inuited to a wedding, anſwered, that he could not come, becauſe he had married a wife: and this carnal loue is quite taken away by the Vow of Chaſtity.

5. The third thing that hindreth, and is leſſe acknowledged, is the inordination of mans will, which as it is propenſe to comaund others, ſo doth it with much ado ſubiect it ſelf to the will of another. And this inordination is ſuch, as it ſeparateth a man from me, and therfore I ſaid in the Ghoſpel: He that will come after me, let him deny himſelfe, that is, his owne will, and renounce as it were himſelfe. Neither is it any other thing to be vnited to me, then to forſake himſelfe, & to yeald himſelfe wholy to me; but he laboureth in vaine to vnite himſelfe to me, who doth not firſt of all depart from himſelfe. This third let is taken away by the Vow of Obedience, by benefit whereof the Religious by ſubiecting himſelfe to others, ſuffereth himſelfe to be gouerned by the will of others. Seeing then Religious perfection conſiſteth in perfect charity, and an inward coniunction with me, and theſe Vowes be the means of obtayning it, and ordained for remouing the impediments thereof, it is not without cauſe affirmed, that in theſe three Vowes Religious perfection conſiſteth.

6. Moreouer, ſith theſe three Vows be the very foundations of a Religious life, it is not without congruity alſo ſaid, that the perfection therof hath it dependance of thē, euen as the perfection of a materiall edifice dependeth of the foundations. And there be three things in the foundations neceſſary. The one is, that in laying them, there be a ſpecial care & conſideratiō had: for the ſurer the foundations be, the more ſtable will be the building. A ſecond thing is, that they be kept whole and ſound, and be not remoued. For by the very leaſt mouing of them, there follow great cracks and ruines in the walls. The third is, that the edifice retayneth not the name of a building, or of an houſe, if the foundatiō be wanting, but is called a poore cot, wherinto the ordure and filth is wont to be caſt.

7. Seing then the three Vowes be the foundations of Religion, theſe three things alſo ought to be obſerued in them. And firſt that a Religious mans principall care be of his Vowes, for that of them dependeth the life and eſſence of his vocation: and if the Vowes be ſure and ſtable, all the frame of a Religious mans ſpirituall building will ſtand ſure and immoueable alſo. Secondly, that the Vowes be conſerued and kept vnſtayned: for the very leaſt default in the Vowes, cauſeth a notable hurt in Religious diſcipline. Finally, as when the houſes foundatiō being taken away, the houſe forgoeth and looſeth it name: euen ſo the Vowes being away, the Religious is ſaid no more to be Religious, but an Apoſtata, who being once fallen from his ſtate, is eaſily ſtayned with the filth and dirt of this world. When the rootes of the tree, which are the foundations therof, be hurt, the tree doth eaſily either wither away, or is little worth.

8. Beſides, certaine it is, that Religion is a ſtate, and a place of reſt for the mind, where a man freed from dangerous ſtormes and tempeſts of this world, repoſeth as in a quiet and ſecure harbour, and leadeth a ſpirituall and peaceable life. And Religion moſt of all compaſſeth this by the help of the Vowes, which intertaine and defend the Religiou • tranquillity and quiet, by deliuering a Religious man from the ſollicicitude, care, and trouble of this world: and for this cauſe alſo it is ſaid, that Religious perfection is cōprehended in the three Vowes.

9. Wherefore the Vow of Pouerty firſt is in cauſe, that a Religious man is exempt from the care of keeping, or increaſing, or alſo of diſpenſing temporall goods. Next, the Vow of Chaſtity freeth him from the care of houſe, of wife, of children and family, which is otherwhiles ſo comberſome and tedious, as it bringeth many to deſperation. Finally, by the Vow of obedience there is taken from the Religious the anxiety, & care, where with moſt men are wont to be vexed, whiles they be not able to determine and reſolue by themſelues, whether they ſhould do this, or that, whether it would more profit to lead this manner of life, or that. But the Religious, who hath by Vow of Obedience left himſelfe in all things wholy to the directiō of Superiours, is moſt free from ſuch kind of ſuperfluous anxietyes, perplexityes, tentations, and doubts.

10. Sonne, thou muſt haue a ſpeciall regard to thy tranquillity and peace of mind, for that of it dependeth thy ſoules weale. Where trouble and diſquiet is, there can be neither ſpirit nor deuotion. And know thou, that as long as in Religion thou keepeſt thy Vowes, they will in like manner keep thee in peace and quiet.

11. To conclude, Religious perfection is attributed to the Vowes, becauſe it perfecteth the holocauſt, that the Religious offer of themſelues to God. In the old law the holocauſt was all conſumed with fire for an odour of ſweetnes, and the oblation of it was ſoone ended. But the holocauſt of the Religious continueth for life, & the nearer it is to the end, ſweeter is the ſent thereof, and therfore is to me made a Vow of perpepetuall Pouerty, perpetuall Chaſtity, and Obedience foreuer. In the holocauſt of Pouerty are offered me all the externall and temporall goods: in that of Chaſtity, the goods of the body: & in that of Obedience, the goods of the mind. For in that the will is offered to me, all the faculties and powers that be in ſubiectiō to it, be offered withal, and becauſe nothing more remayneth behind to be offered, by the Vowes a whole, entire, and perfect holocauſt is not without cauſe offered.

12. The ſtate of Virgins is perfect in it ſelfe, and very acceptable to me, but the Religious ſtate is much more perfect, and more pleaſing to me, becauſe the Virgins do for loue of me only depriue themſelues of the pleaſures of the fleſh, but Religious further ſpoile themſelues of their owne will, and giue me what ſoeuer they haue. He giueth not little, who giueth all he hath; neither ſhall he receaue little in heauen, who ſhall for his remuneration and reward receaue me myſelfe.

13. Now I would haue all to be themſelues iudges in this matter, of how great reckoning the Vowes of Religious ought to be, ſith they be the foundations and ground-worke of Religious life, the conſeruers of the minds tranquillity and quiet, ſo much deſired and ſought for of men, and the moſt effectuall meanes towards the attayning of perfection, & the offering of a perfect ſacrifice to the Creatour. A ſouldier maketh a great reckoning of his horſe and armes, by the benefit wherof he may be able to maintaine his temporall life, and triumph ouer his enemyes. And ſhall not a Religious man eſteeme of his Vowes, by help whereof he conſerueth his ſpirituall life, and goeth away with victory, not only ouer his enemyes, but ouer himſelfe alſo?

14. O how great will the ſplendour of theſe three Vowes be in Heauen, when like vnto three moſt precious ſtones they ſhal be ſet in a crowne of glory? For if the ſame now couered, concealed, and hidden as it were, do neuertheles giue out ſo great a light on earth, as the very great and mighty ones of this world admire them; how great wil the brightnes therof be in heauen, where all things ſhall be ſeen, and appeare? doubtles their ioy and peace of mind will be exceeding great, who ſhall tranſport theſe iewells with them into heauen: as contrariwiſe great will be their grief and confuſion, who whiles they liue, had them not in the eſteeme that they ought to haue had. If thou contemneſt thoſe precious ſtones, which haue a vertue to raiſe thee vp to greateſt honour, what is it that thou makeſt any great reckoning of?

SONNE, in the world a great regard is had by euery man of his own honour, and renowne of his family, and therefore there raigne ſo many hatreds, and enimities ſo many ſlaughters committed, families brought to extreme pouerty & ouerthrown, and which is worſt of all, many ſoules run to vtter perdition. And all this euill and miſchief ariſeth of this, that they labour only to fulfill the worlds fooliſh lawes, and yet to the performance therof Chriſtians be neither bound, nor tyed by any Vow, but be rather by my contrary lawes forbidden to do them, vnder paine of eternall damnation. And if the men of this world do with ſo great an hazard of their fortunes, life, ſoule, and all, ſo diligently obſerue ſo pernicious Lawes: certes, a Religious man hath much more reaſon to be very ſtudious diligent, and exact in obſeruing the lawes of his vows, which be the ſtatutes & laws of the Holy Ghoſt, that concerne the good of ſoules, and my glory. And in truth he who preferreth the decrees of the world, his enemy, before the lawes of God, his Creatour, fighteth againſt himſelfe.

2. Sonne, it is true, that a man is by the world reputed vile & daſtardly, who vſeth not the law of reuenging an iniury: but if for loue of me he remit & forgiue an iniury, he is with me, & withall vertuous perſons cenſured for magnanimous & wiſe, becauſe he ouercometh himſelfe, and regardeth more the lawes of God, then of the world. But he who in Religion tranſgreſſeth his Vowes, is contemned of the world, is held infamous to the Religious, is of all other men condemned for ingrate, for that by benefit of Vows he was raiſed vp vnto ſo high an eſtate, namely of Religion, and by the the ſame enriched with ſo many gifts and ſpirituall graces. And who ſeeth not, that to violate his Vowes, is nothing els then not to ſtand to his promiſe, nor ſatisfy his band? Who perceiueth it not, that it is as much as to contemne his benefactour and ſetter vp? And therfore the ſaying of the Ghoſpel ought not to ſeem harſh vnto thee, which I pronounced againſt them, when I ſaid, That he is not apt for the kingdome of heauen, who after putting his hand to the plough, looketh back againe.

3. The beginners are not crowned in heauen, but the perſeuerers in good euen till death. It is alſo ſaid in my Scripture. That an vnfaythfull promiſe doth greatly diſpleaſe God: & not without cauſe. For he that diſchargeth not his word in keeping promiſes made by Vow, goeth on next to this, that he cōtemne Religion, & conſequently the ſame is contemned alſo, if it keepeth in it ſuch as diſcharge not their duty. For it is no little ſcandall vnto men of the world, if they ſee the Religious to be defectiue in euery principall point, in which conſiſteth the eſſence of Religion it ſelfe. And the leaſt reproach doth not redound to me alſo: for ſith I haue accepted their promiſes made by Vow, if they be not performed as is requiſite, I am vnworthily iniured by them, whome I haue ſo tenderly loued, and whome I ſo inwardly affected. Beſides the greateſt hurt of all lighteth vpon the tranſgreſſors themſelues, becauſe they caſt themſelues into manifeſt hazard of Apoſtaſy, and into the enemies ſnares, neuer likely to get out againe. And what meruaile it ſometimes in this life alſo I bend the bow of my indignation againſt them. He that can ſatiſfy the debt that he oweth, and vſeth couſenage that he may not pay it, is worthy neither of remiſſiō or pardon, nor of commiſeration. It is a leſſer euill to vow, then to reuoke the vow a man hath once made.

4. The Diuell the capitall enemy of Religious perfection is not ignorant, how much good cōmeth to a Religious man by the exact obſeruation of his Vowes. For nothing bringeth him ſooner, and with more ſecurity to the height of perfection, then the mortification of carnall deſires. And what is it els, in a perfect manner, to performe the Vowes, then for a man to mortify himſelfe? The Vow of Pouerty mortifyeth the deſire of heaping vp riches: The Vow of Chaſtity the tentation and contentments of the fleſh; and the Vow of Obedience the facultyes of the mind, the will, and proper iudgment. And this is the cauſe, why the Diuell laboureth ſo much to perſwade the Religious to make no conſcience, or ſcruple in tranſgreſſion of their Vowes, not only that he may ſo diuert them from the ſeeking of perfection, but alſo for this, that when the foundations be once ſhaken and weakned, it is no hard matter for him to ouerthrow the whole houſe. And an euill ſigne it is, when the beginning of the euill is giuen and occaſioned by the principall part.

5. O how deare be thoſe Religious to me, who ſeeke out diuers meanes, and helps for the attayning of the perfect obſeruation of their Vows, both for the better ſtrengthning of the foundation of their ſpirituall edifice, and for the making of more ſharp warre vpon the Diuel, by manfully reſiſting him. Some there be, who do euery day to themſelues renew the Vow they haue once made to me, and do humbly craue my grace for the perfect obſeruing of them. And this much pleaſeth me? for they eaſily declare & make knowne, how great an inward deſire they haue to auoyd all defects, and to performe their Vowes exactly. By this double deſire of perfect obſeruation of the Vowes, and of crauing grace, the ſoule maketh as it were the firſt ſtep to the obtaining of what it deſireth. Often to renew the Vowes once made, is nothing els, then often to driue in the nayles faſter, wherewith the Religious be nayled vpon the Croſſe with me, in ſo much as if they begin peraduenture to be looſe, they may be made more faſt. And by this help the Religious be made more ſtrong, able, & more conſtant in obſeruing their Vowes.

6. There be others alſo, whome I loue as well, as the former, who when any tentation ariſeth againſt their Vowes, do not diſpute with themſelues, whether it were a great fault or a little to do that which the tentation ſuggeſteth, whether it could be done without mortall ſinne, or no; but ſo ſoone as they perceyue it to be contrary to their Vowes, they eftſoons reiect it: no otherwiſe then he, vpon whome when peraduenture a ſparke of fire falleth, examineth not, whether it would burne him litle or much, but he inſtantly ſhaketh if off, and putteth it out with his hand, or foot. He that contemneth a little imperfectiō, which he might eaſily auoid, doth in time diſſemble great ones. Giue eare my Sonne. Didſt not thou make thy Vowes for loue of me, and that therby thou mighſt do me ſeruice? Doeſt not thou keep the ſame, that thou mayeſt gayne the greater fauour at my hands? Sith then thou art aſſured, that the very leaſt defects, committted againſt thy Vowes, do diſpleaſe me, wherfore doeſt thou not forbeare to commit them? If in things appertayning to the body, thou do not luſter any fault, neither great nor ſmal, why permitteſt thou any defect in obſeruation of thy Vowes, then which nothing in Religion is more excellent? To do any thing that diſpleaſeth me, though it be very little, is not of a zealous louer, ſuch as I deſire euery Religious man ſhould be.

7. There is yet another meanes, by help wherof the Religious man may come to an exact obſeruation of his Vowes: and this commonly doth he vſe who is feruent in ſpirit, imitating the vſe and manner of ſuch as be very hungry. For they moſt carefully ſeeke what to eate, and they do without any difference eate whatſoeuer they find, whether hoate or cold, well or ill prepared, roſted or ſodden. Euen ſo the feruent Religious be lead with a great deſire to exerciſe thoſe vertues which they haue promiſed by Vowes, and this both in great matters and in little, as well in hard and painefull, as in eaſy and pleaſant. And for one to exerciſe himſelfe often in his Vowes, & in the often actions of Pouerty, Chaſtity, and Obedience, maketh the obſeruation of the Vowes very eaſy. For the frequentatiō of ſuch acts prepareth a Religious man to the getting of an habit. And habit of it owne nature maketh a man agile, prompt, and ready to the exerciſing of Vertue, and conſequently to the obſeruing of his Vowes perfectly. We haue a plaine example in the skill of muſicke, for the more a man frequenteth the exerciſe therof, the more readily, and the more cunningly is he accuſtomed to ſing, or play.

8. By this it may be vnderſtood, how greatly and daungerouſly they be deceiued, who care not for light tranſgreſſions in the obſeruation of their Vows, not conſidering or marking, that the eſſence of a Religious man is in his Vowes, that they make or marre, to the good or hurt of their ſoules, that of the ſame depends al the good or euill of religion, ſcandall or edification, and my glory alſo, becauſe the promiſe be made to me; and finally the merit it ſelfe of the three principall vertues, that be comprehended in the Vowes. Wherfore if there be not need of great care, and vigilancy that we fayle not in our duty, I know not in what there will be need. And if a man will not ſhew a feruour and zeale in this thing. I ſee not wherein he ſhould declare and manifeſt the ſame.

SONNE, meete it is not, that the ſeruant ſhould refuſe what his Lord & Maiſter hath imbraced, neither beſeemeth it the ſcholler to learne another leſſon, then that which his maiſter hath appointed him. Whiles I liued on earth, I choſe, and willingly imbraced Pouerty. The ſame I taught and propoſed to all that followed me, and now againe I earneſtly recommend it to all, who aſpire to the perfection of ſpirituall life. For I was borne ſo poore, as there was not a corner found in any houſe, that would intertaine and receiue me, when I was to come into the world. And therefore my poore Mother was forced to retire her ſelfe into a ſtable, wherein I was both borne, & layd in a maunger. I was borne of a poore Mother, brought vp as poorely, conuerſed amongſt the poore, and liued poore till my dying day; and at my death I was much more poore, becauſe I had not whereupon to reſt my pierced head, and gaue vp my life at laſt vpon the hard bed of the Croſſe.

2. Let the Religious now conſider, whether it be not agreable, that they ſhould be well affected to Pouerty by thē voluntarily promiſed, and ſo highly eſteemed and beloued by me. Let them ponder, whether it be meet, that members ſo richly adorned and ſet forth, lye hid vnder ſo needy an head. The ſeruant deſerueth not to ſtay in the houſe, who is not contented to vſe the ſame meate, drinke, and cloathing that his Lord vſeth. Neither was I a louer of Pouerty alone, my Apoſtles imbraced the ſame, who beſides that they were poore fiſhermē, when I called them out of the world, did further leaue that little which they had and poſſeſſed for loue of me, moſt affectuouſly imbracing Pouerty, as a true and faithfull companion. O how much did it pleaſe me, when being called by me, they did without further lingring, or delay forſake parents, ſhip, nets, & whatſoeuer they had, or might haue in this life. And though this action of Pouerty were great & heroicall in them, becauſe they forſooke all; yet I ſtayed not heere, but would further haue thē exerciſed in the ſame Pouerty, by liuing with with me of the almes of other men, and therfore I ſent them to preach abroad from one place to another, without purſe or ſcrip, prouided of nothing which was neceſſary, that they might repoſe all their hope in Gods prouidence.

3. The Religious man the leſſe he hath, and the leſſe deſire he hath of temporall things, is the more apt for the helping of ſoules. And when I did after ſend them forth to preach the Ghoſpell all the world ouer, did they go loaden with baggage, or attended vpon by great traynes of ſeruants, or did they aduertiſe the citties, whither they went, of their comming, that they might find all manner of thinges prouided and made ready for them? No ſuch matter. But they went full of the holy Ghoſt, loaden with the weight of my doctrine, and incenſed with a burning deſire of conuerting countryes to the fayth: they did like poore men enter into the Citties and Townes, where whiles they made their ſtay, by preaching me poore, and naked, dead vpon the Croſſe, they cauſed exceeding motions in their hearers minds. Whome when they ſaw, neither to ſeeke, nor to accept of gold or ſiluer, meruailed much. And when they further ſaw them to take ſo long iournyes al the world ouer in extreme penury, and want of things, only for the gayning of the ſoules of others, and alſo to loue want and pouerty; they were almoſt aſtoniſhed with very admiration, and for that cauſe they were more ready, and more eaſily induced to put their neckes vnder the yoake of the Ghoſpell. Theſe two things do not well ſuite, to gaine ſoules, and to attend withall to our priuate commodityes and pleaſures.

4. If againe, my Sonne, thou turne thy ſelfe to the founders of Religion, thou ſhalt find that they were ſo great louers of Pouerty, as they would not ſuffer the words Myne and Thine to haue any place amongſt them, thinking that by theſe two words, is deſtroyed all the force of Pouerty: and if they found any Proprietary amongſt them, they inſtantly baniſhed and thruſt him out, as an infectious perſon from their Company. Let them now ſpeake, who be ſo much afraid of the name of Pouerty, whoſe diſciples, and followers they be: What rule permitted them to haue goods and prouiſion of their owne? Wherfore do they take paynes to get money togeather, whether to cōuert it to their owne vſe, or to leaue it to others; howſoeuer they do it, euen ſecular men haue not care to gather riches for any other cauſe. What difference then is there betweene the Religious men, and thoſe of the world? This is not for a man to beare heauen away by violence, but to afflict and vexe himſelfe for the gathering of earthly traſh togeather. The doctrine that I haue deliuered is not ſo, neither be they the followers of their founders and forefathers; and ſeeing they trace not the ſame ſteps with them, they will neuer come to the ſame degree of perfection that they did.

5. Lord, if thou giueſt vs not ſome ſpur to put vs forwards to loue Pouerty, it will eaſily be abandoned and forſaken: for ſith it carrieth an outward repreſentation of ignobility, contempt, and baſenes, and of being next vnto miſery, no eſteem is made therof. Sonne, thou art very much deceiued, becauſe thou vſeſt not a diſtinction. In forced Pouerty, & that which commeth of neceſſity, is contemptible, and hated of the world: but voluntary Pouerty, ſith it is a noble and heroicall vertue, how can it be ignoble and baſe? If it treadeth vnder foote, & contemneth all precious ſtones, and the worlds treaſure, how can it be miſerable? To the loue of it what may moue vs more, then to vnderſtand, that I the Sonne of God, and Lord of Maieſty, when I liued on earth, betroathed Pouerty vnto my ſelfe, and loued and intertayned it till my dying day. And ſhould not this alone worthily induce euery Religious perſon to loue and honour it? For in all Courts, he is in greateſt honour and regard, whome the Prince loueth moſt.

6. But wilt thou vnderſtand my Son, who is a true louer of Pouerty? He it is, who moſt delighteth and reioyceth in it, who commendeth, and deſireth it more then other, who thinketh not to offend it either by worke, word, or by any ſigne; who finally imbraceth and loueth it, as an heauenly margarite, that maketh the ſoule moſt fayre, and beautifull in the ſight of the creatour. O how much did the Religious before tyme to pleaſe me, who were ſo affected to Pouerty, as they held all the riches of this world for toyes and ordure, if they were compared with it. And for a declaration of their exceeding great affection vnto it, they called Pouerty their Lady and Queene, and for ſuch they eſteemed and vſed it. Neither did they this in the firſt feruour of their conuerſion only, but the elder they waxed in the ſeruing of God, the more they loued, and reuerenced it, and for that cauſe they were very earneſt and deſirous, that they might giue vp their laſt breath to God vpon the bare ground.

7. On the contrary ſide, I am not a litle diſpleaſed to ſee ſome Religious ſo little deuoted to Pouerty, as thoſe, who diſcommend it, haue an horrour to it, as a thing to be deteſted, and by deeds alſo go againſt it. Hence it is, that in their meate and drinke, in their cloathing and habitation they will be intreated commodiouſly and daintly, yea & that better and more commodiouſly then they intreated themſelues in the world; and if they haue not euery thing as they liſt, they be troubled, and can take no reſt at all. And what an infelicity is this? They giue ouer the world to ſerue me, they leaue all their riches, neglect their commodityes, and of themſelus vow Pouerty, that they may euer lead a quiet life, and after they be once entred into Religion, they ſuffer themſelues to be diſquieted and troubled for the things that they forſooke in the world. This is nothing but to ſing a ſong of recantation, and to reuoke their Vow of perpetuall Pouerty. For what difference is there, whether thou deſire earthly riches, or ſuperfluous commodities and recreations, when as the one and the other be repugnant to Religious Pouerty?

8. But it diſpleaſeth me more, that there be ſome, who not finding in Religion all abundance of things, as they had in the world, do looke backe, and craue their cō modities firſt of one ſecular man, and then of another, and make themſelues their vaſſalls and ſlaues. And • f ſo to do for their owne vſe and commodity, be bad; how much worſe it is then, to exact ſuch things of ſecular men, that they may be giuen to others? Is it poſſible, that any Religious man ſhould be found, who ſhould bind himſelfe to ſecular men, for the doing of good turnes to others? O infamous madnes of ſuch a Religious perſon, who for ſo baſe a thing maketh himſelf a vaſſal to ſo many! Of this bad fountaine doth ſpring for the moſt part all that looſeneſſe, diſſolution, and breach of good order, and Religious diſcipline, which we ſee (a thing to be lamented) in many Religious with our own eyes. Woe be to that Religion, the Religious wherof be no louers of Pouerty, for that by their ouermuch liberty of manners and life they become the ruine and ouerthrow of Religion.

LORD, what good and profit can Religious Pouerty bring, ſith it hath nothing, wherby it may eaſe mans neceſſities? And more then that, in regard of the incō modityes that be adioyned therto, it ſeemeth preiudicial, not to the body alone, but to the ſoule alſo. For the body being ill handled therby, eaſily falleth into ſicknes, and being ill diſpoſed, cannot ſerue and attend to the ſpirituall actions of the ſoule, neither can the mind it ſelf vſe the ordinary exerciſe of prayer, and meditation. Beſides it is no little impediment to the Religious, who towards the helping of their neighbours, do profeſſe an actiue life. For if they want things neceſſary, they are not able to go through with their labours, in helping their neighbours. Therfore it ſeemeth to me that Pouerty is an impediment to much good, and contrariwiſe promoteth what is ill, as is ſicknes and other infirmities, yea & haſteneth death it ſelfe.

2. Sonne, thou art far wide of thy marke: for thou thinkeſt that Religious Pouerty is a ſeuere and cruell Miſtreſſe that withdraweth from the Religious thinges neceſſary towards their meate, drinke and cloathing, according to a requiſite proportion required in their inſtitute. It is not ſo. Pouerty by frugality is good, both for the ſoule & body, & profiteth a man more, then do the riches and pleaſures of the world. For in the firſt place the deſire of tranſitory honours doth ſo torment a mans mind, as it depriueth him of all quiet, pricketh him forward to ſucke vp the bloud of the poore, and bringeth him to ſo great a blindnes, as it bereaueth him of all feare of God & men, without any regard had of his owne ſoules good. Neither do men deſirous of getting more, make a ſtand heere.

3. He that is once become rich, eftſoons raiſeth vp his head, becometh arrogant and proud, vndertaketh to patronize the wicked, and out of a madnes runneth headlong into all naughtines. From theſe euills, and many more, voluntary Pouerty freeth the mind, whiles it doth take from him not only the riches that he hath, but alſo the hope & deſire of hauing, which is the beginning of ruine both of body and ſoule, and procureth ſuch tranquility and peace, as it maketh the mind fit and diſpoſed to the contemplation of heauenly things, and to all manner of ſpirituall actions. Whence it is, that a Religious man, ſo ſoone as he is become poore, conſequently becometh humble, modeſt, meeke, a friend of the good, and of vertue, and an enemy of the bad, and a contemner of vices.

4. That Pouerty alſo profiteth the body, is out of queſtion. We do not deſire any thing more earneſtly for the body, then good health: and we haue an horrour of nothing more then of ſicknes: for there is not any who would not be rather poore and whole, then rich and ſicke. And dayly experience manifeſtly teacheth, that the frugality of pouerty conſerueth the good health of body, prolongeth and continueth mans life more yeares, then doth all the ſtore of riches and pleaſures. Who ſeeth not, that the poore be more healthfull, & go through with more labours, then do the rich? A poore man is as well content with a ſimple, ordinary, & meane dyet, as be the rich with dainty and delicate fare. The poore man cōmeth euer hungry to his meate: the little that he hath he eateth with a good appetite: whē he is a thirſt he refuſeth not a draught of watter: after labour he ſeeketh not for a ſoft bed, but he ſleepeth, lyeth downe, & taketh his reſt where it hapneth at aduentures: and in the morning he riſeth early with meate diſgeſted, ſound, and healthfull and without loathing.

5. On the contrary, the rich man, ſeruing the time ordinarily, ſitteth downe to the table with a full ſtomake, taketh very little taſt or pleaſure in his meate, ſcarce ſleepeth by night, but turneth himſelfe euer and anone, now to one ſide of the bed now to another: & therefore the Phiſitian muſt euer be at hand, and drugs prepared in his chamber ready to take vpon euery occaſion. Loe thus be they turmoiled, who liue in delicacies: they liue badly, and dye ſoone. My ſeruants did not in times paſt liue ſo in the wilderneſſe, who profeſſed ſo great Pouerty, as ſome when they beſprinckled their herbs with a little ſalt, or oyle, thought they had made a feaſt; and yet theſe men neuer vſing the benefit of Phiſitian, or of phiſicke, liued to very old age, and therfore Religious Pouerty is not (as thou thinkeſt) the cauſe either of infirmities or of haſtning thy death. Nothing hurteth ones health ſo much, as the variety and abundance of the meate.

6. Religious Pouerty bringeth another commodity with it, and that is ſecurity, voyd of all ſuſpition, and ſiniſter thoughts. He, that aboundeth in wealth, is afraid of theeues, not only from abroad, but of his own houſe alſo. And not without cauſe: for many, whiles they ſee they cannot come to the riches they deſire, do firſt ſpoyle them of life, and then of their riches. How many ſonnes haue killed or poyſoned their Parents that they might the ſooner come to enioy their inheritance? How many treaſons, & treacheries haue there beene wrought againſt moſt deare friends, for the ſpoiling them of their treaſures? But the poore ſleep in ſecurity, they trauayle night and day out of all feare, they are troubled with no ſuſpitions, becauſe they haue nothing to looſe. Adde to this alſo, that Pouerty hindreth none in his trauayle, nor bringeth in, or cauſeth any forgetfulnes of the Kingdome of heauen, which is occaſioned by riches, but rather vrgeth and forceth vs to thinke more often vpon the beauty of our heauenly country, and vpon the great treaſures there prepared for vs.

7. Lord, at the day of iudgment thou wilt make them only partaker of the Kingdome of heauen, who for loue of thee ſhall haue afforded meate and drink to the needy and ſhal haue holpen them in all their other neceſſities: and what ſoeuer ſhall be done vnto them, thou wilt haue reputed to be done to thy ſelfe. If it be ſo, what reward ſhall come to the poore Religious, who when in their entrance to Religion, they haue renounced all their poſſeſſions, haue not wherewith to relieue them? Wherfore it ſeemeth they might haue done more wiſely, if they had reſerued ſome part of their goods to giue afterward to the poore.

8. Sonne to giue almes to the poore, is a good worke, and meritorious of life euerlaſting: but it is a far more excellent worke for a man to forſake both all his poſſeſſions & the world alſo, & to follow me. Hence it is, that I did not counſaile that rich yong man in the Ghoſpell, who asked me, what was needfull for him to do to attaine to a perfect life, to ſtay in the world, and to giue much almes to the poore, but that himſelfe after diſtribution of all his goods vpon the poore, ſhould become alſo poore, & ſo follow me in my Pouerty. And therefore the Religious need not to feare in the day of iudgment: For ſeeing they haue for the loue of me forſaken not only all that they had, but all they might haue had in the world alſo, they exerciſe a moſt noble, and perfect worke, which in that day ſhall be recompenſed and payd with a moſt abundant reward of euerlaſting felicity. He is not bound to giue almes, who hath diſtributed all that he had to the poore at once, and hath nothing left him to giue.

9. Seeing then by the ſo great commendations, and vtilityes of Religious Pouerty it may euidently appeare, that ſecular men be greatly deceiued, who ſeeke with ſo great a deſire to heape vp riches; how great an errour, thinke we, doth a Religious man commit, if he ſhould in like manner ſtudy to get money togeather, who by Vow of Pouerty hath renounced it for euer? What folly and madnes would it be for him, whiles he forſaketh the world, to haue a will to go out naked, that when he were to fight with the Diuell, he might not haue wherewith his enemy ſhould take hold by, to throw him to the ground, and now to haue a will to be clad in Religion, that he may be with the more eaſe laid hand on, & ouerthrowne by the enemy? The Diuell, when he findeth not whereon to faſten, or to lay any hold, goeth his way ouercome, and vanquiſhed, or leaueth of to moleſt and trouble.

SONNE, I am he, who affoard neceſſaryes to the whole world: I commaund the Sunne to ſhine as well vpon the good, as the bad: I ſend downe raine in tymes and ſeaſons: I cauſe the earth to bring forth fruits, plants, and all liuing things, and the Sea to abound in fiſh, to the end euery kind according to the condition of their nature may haue helps agreable therunto. Neither doth it beſeem me, the Creatour of all, to be ouercome of man, that he ſhould giue me more, then I giue him. And therefore ſith the Religious do by Vow of Pouerty giue themſelues, and whatſoeuer they haue in the world, and to the end they may ſerue me the more readily, and the more at eaſe, they renounce all their poſſeſſions, honors, commodities and recreations otherwiſe lawful, and further bind themſelues by band of perpetuall Vow, that they may not at any time be able to go backe from the profeſſion of Pouerty; meet it is, that I in like manner promiſe to affoard them all neceſſaries for their ſuſtenance.

2. Firſt then I requite this their ſo feruent loue and liberality towards me in ſuch ſort, as I conſecrate my ſelfe wholy vnto them, as I did vndertake long ſince in the perſon of Aaron to do, to whome I ſaid, That I would be his inheritance, vnderſtanding and meaning in this figure all the Religious. Thus I make my ſelfe their procuratour & diſpenſer. Neither do I hold it inough for my ſelfe to ſuſtayne the perſon of a good Lord towards his faithfull ſeruants, but I further reckon them, as doth a moſt louing Father of his deareſt children. And if the birds and fowles of the ayre be ſo carefull to ſeeke and prouide for neceſſaryes for the feeding of their yong ones; wilt thou haue me to forget my Religious children, who do in their Monaſteryes, as in their neaſts, expect their ſuſtenance? Wilt thou not haue them clad with neceſſary cloathing, who haue for my ſake ſpoiled themſelues of all their commodityes of body, retayning nothing as their owne? He ſtandeth in need of nothing, of whome God taketh a care.

3. Wherfore know thou, that I haue prouided, and ſtill dayly do, neceſſary helps for all, becauſe neither there be the ſame functions of all, neither do all follow the ſame manner of liuing. For I haue cauſed thoſe, who liue ſeperatly, and, as touching their owne perſon, depriued of al dominion of their poſſeſſions, that they may ſerue me in this degree of Pouerty, to be prouided of poſſeſſions in common, wherof euery one may haue the meanes to entertaine life. Againe, I help others, who haue imbraced the lawes of a more ſtrict Pouerty, in ſo much as they will not euen in cōmon inioy any ſtable or certaine rents, by mouing the harts of the faithfull, now one, then another to be willing and ready to prouide for euery one conformably to his rule, and vocation. Be not thou on thy part wanting vnto God, and God will not be wanting vnto thee.

4. And that we may come nearer to the remuneration, that I make to the Religious in this life alſo, for the recompence of the Vow of Pouerty, tell me, my Sonne, wherfore when any one of thy order cometh frō ſome foraine part to thy monaſtery for his lodging, all come running to giue him all things neceſſary? For what cauſe is this done? In very deed for no other, then for the Vow of Pouerty, & that is a part of the compenſation, that is due to Religious Pouerty. If that gueſt ſhould haue any prouiſion of his owne, whereof he might liue, euery one would forbeare to help him, neither would, there want murmurers, who would ſay, this man is rich inough at home, no doubt but he commeth hither to ſpend what is ours, that he might ſpare his owne. But it is nothing ſo. For ſeeing none can be ignorāt, that he by reaſon of his Vow of Pouerty, neither hath, nor can haue any thing of his owne, therfore al neceſſaries be with charity and good will affoarded him.

5. Againe, with what a company of cars is a ſecular man troubled and turmoyled for the prouiding of his family with ſuch thinges, as peraduenture as appertayne to meate, drinke, and cloaths: how often paſſeth he whole nights without ſleep, taking care and ſollicitude, where, how, and what way he may remedy his preſent want? how often lamēteth he & weepeth, while he findeth not the meanes to help himſelfe, or others? Doth not he ſeeme, my Sonne, vnto thee happy, who is exempted from all ſuch ſollicitude? Holdeſt not thou him much priuiledged, who deuoyd of cares, hath others to procure him all neceſſaryes? And whence haue the Religious this priuiledge but by me, in regard of the Vow of Pouerty.

6. Conſider alſo, my Sonne, that a Religious man, if it be his happe to trauaile through other countreys, and to come to the houſes of his order, is very kindly and louingly intertayned, and welcomed with much Charity, allthough they neuer ſaw the man before; offer themſelues to do him ſeruice, for this reſpect alone, that they vnderſtand him to be their brother, & a child of the ſame mother, that is Religion, with them. When he cometh thither, all thinges be there as common vnto him, as they be vnto thoſe, who make their habitatiō there, and therefore for one houſe that he left in the world for the loue of me, he findeth a thouſand other better then his owne. And this is to haue nothing, and yet to poſſeſſe all.

7. There is not a Prince ſo commodiouſly treated as he is when he is out of the territoryes and lymits of his owne gouernement. For in his inne he is courteouſly wellcomed, and intertayned by the hoſt of the houſe for no other cauſe thē or the gaine he hopeth from him; and whoſoeuer bringeth not neceſſary prouiſion with him, is wont to make great expenſes, and to beare with many incommodityes, becauſe he taketh not vp his lodging in his own houſe as the Religious doth, and whatſoeuer ſeruice is done him, it is done for his money, and not for loue, as is done in Religion. Thou now ſeeſt, how much better in this kind the condition of a poore Religious man is, then is that of the mighty & rich, & this for nothing els, but for the Vow of Pouerty, through the benefit wherof he enioyeth many priuiledges, and commodities whereof he was not the authour or cauſe himſelfe.

8. It is indeed true, that the manner of a Religious mans liuing and intertayning is meane and ſlender, but if thou diligently conſider the conditions of it, thou wilt not doubt to preferre it before the tables and diet of great Princes. For firſt, all that a Religious man eateth, is beſtowed vpon him for the loue of me: all is prepared and dreſſed of loue: and all out of the ſame loue of my ſeruants brought to the table afterwards: and whatſoeuer is ſet before him, he eateth and drinketh without any ſuſpition at all. But what Prince is there in the world, who is ſerued meerely, and purely for the loue of God? In what Princes court be things ſerued in ſo great peace, as in Religion? Whence come ſo many foretaſts in Princes tables, but of the ſuſpition of poyſon? And who ſeeth not, that a greater eſteeme is to be made of loue and ſecurity wherewith the Religious are ſerued, then of all the magnificall miniſteryes & ſeruices of Princes?

9. The Religious alſo be not depriued of their wonted attendance, euen in their old age. But he that hath done ſeruice to temporall Lords, when he once commeth to be old, when he is ſcarce of ability to do his wonted offices of ſeruice, though he be not thruſt out of the houſe, is neuertheleſſe hardly endured in the ſight of others, neither is vſed according to his deſeruings, though he haue ſpent his whole life in his Lords ſeruice, but is held for an vnprofitable perſon, not fit for any ſeruice. Contrariwiſe a poore Religious man, the more he is aduanced in yeares, the more reſpect is had of him, and the more commodiouſly is he treated: neither is there conſidered in him, what he doth for the preſent, but what he did before time, and all caſt their eyes vpon him, as vpon my ſeruant, and a man conſecrated to me. Not old age, but an vntoward and peruerſe will cauſeth the Religious to fall from my grace and fauour. A ſpirituall Religious man, and aged, who can take no longer paynes, ſerueth me more profitably, then many ſtrong and able yong men, and thoſe voyd of ſpirit. I in my ſeruants conſider not ſo much their forces and ſtrength of body, as their will, and ſpirit, which waxeth old, and dyeth not through the fault of age, but of a peruerſe cuſtome.

10. Finally, a Religious poore man is tended more carefully, more faythfully, and more louingly in ſicknes, then be ſecular Lords. For they obſerue the Phiſitians preſcriptions moſt exactly, and there be euer both day and night at hand thoſe who attend them in their ſicknes. If there be any daunger of life, they be admoniſhed and put in mind in good time to prepare themſelues to their death. At his dying many of my ſeruants are about him, with their prayers, and good exhortations, aſſiſting him in his happy paſſage to another life. Certes, if a Religious man were to haue none other reward in this life, this alone ought to ſeeme vnto him inough, being ſo ſingular and excellent a thing, as many Princes, and great men of the world haue much deſired it, and yet could not obtayne it. For how many of them haue ended their liues without any preparation going before, for that they were not put in mind of their danger? And how many againe, togeather with their temporall life haue loſt the eternall? And if the reward of my Religious be ſuch in this life, what wil that be, that is prepared for them in the next? What manner of crowne ſhall be giuen them in my Court for the Vow of Pouerty? How many great Lords aſtoniſhed at their exceſſe of glory, will ſay: We eſteemed their Pouerty nothing but madnes, but we were mad, and they wiſe indeed?

IN my Ghoſpell I reſembled riches vnto thornes, & worthily. For thornes hinder and let trauaylers in their way, that they cannot go on with expedition, becauſe they are afraid of the pricking of the thornes. In like manner the thornes taken in hand do pricke, and being preſſed, they draw the bloud, and put a man to payne. Therefore great is the priuiledge of them, who haue left them beind, and whiles they are vpon their way, haue them no more in ſight. For to handle the pricks of the thornes, & not to be prickt, if it be not impoſſible, at leaſt it is very hard, and it profiteth little whether the pricks be great or ſmall, many or few, becauſe all do pricke, and euer pricke: Euen ſo riches do greatly hinder ſuch as trauayle towards heauen, and do weary a man much with the bearing of them.

2. To haue any thing proper, and not to be affected vnto it, is not graunted to many, much leſſe to all. The affection is that, which bringeth forth the thorns of cogitations, ſuſpitions, & cares of gathering riches togeather, whereunto the more a man ſhall giue his mind, the more ſhall he be prickt and be bloudy himſelfe. Wherfore not to abound in riches, or to be bound to leaue them, is an exceeding great benefit, and in it conſiſteth the Vow of Religious Pouerty.

3. But it is not inough, Sonne, to make Vowes, if they be not performed; for that the end of a Vow is to obſerue it by deeds & actions. Remember therfore, that thou art bound of thyne owne accord to perpetuall Pouerty (which amongſt the morall and religious vertues is the principall) and that the obligation was made in my ſight. But by contrary works to exempt thy ſelfe from thy Vow, is nothing els, then to denounce war againſt the chiefeſt vertue of al, which thou haſt choſen for thy Lady, and Patroneſſe, and therby ſo to incurre the puniſhment of violating thy obligation, that is, euerlaſting damnation, & to offend me thy Creatour and Benefactour, who accepted thy Vow. And now iudge thou, how neceſſary it is for thee to ſtand to thy promiſes once made to me, which as they profit to ſaluation when they be well kept, ſo being broken they damne eternally.

4. Lord, ſeeing riches be ſo troubleſome and dangerous, and yet a man needeth meate, drinke, and cloathing neceſſary to the ſuſtentation of life, it ſhould be inough for thee, if we ſhould at leaſt be in the number of thoſe poore, whome holy writ commendeth in theſe words: Bleſſed is the man, who hath not gone after gold, nor hath put his hope in the treaſures of money: For ſo we might be poſſeſſed of ſome neceſſary things, the affection being remoued from the money, without preiudice or breach of the Vow of Pouerty. It is true, Sonne, that Bleſſed is he who is not gone after gold: but the Scripture addeth by and by after: VVho is he, and we will prayſe him? Who is he that deſireth not gold? Who is he that deſireth not to keep it, after he hath got it, and alſo to increaſe it? If thou go not after gold, gold will come after thee, and will like vnto thorns cleaue faſt to thy cloathing, & though it pricke thee not, yet will it hinder thy going. Wherefore the Vow of Pouerty quite debarreth all poſſeſſion of ones owne, whether it be much or little. Neither muſt thou be ſollicitous about thy meate, drinke, and cloathing: leaue that care to me, let thine endeauour only be to ſatisfy thy Vow of Pouerty, and I will prouide other neceſſaries. Who putteth his hope in any other then God, he doth God an iniury, and ſhall find himſelfe deceiued.

5. Remember that Pouerty is called the wall of Religion, and the mother of the Religious. As long as a Citties wall is ſound and whole, it is eaſily defended and kept from the incurſion of theeues, and enemies, but if it be broken downe, or be decayed, the enemy eaſily breaketh in, and ſpoyleth it. Euen ſo Pouerty, which is the wall of Religious diſcipline, if it be either contemned or neglected, ſo as ſome propriety be admitted, becometh obnoxious and ſubiect to the enemyes ſpoyle. And therfore need there is, thou keep and defend the wall, if thou deſire to keep and gard thy ſelfe.

6. Who in time of warre watcheth vpon the walls, muſt haue two conditions. One that he watch, the other that he ſuffer not himſelf to be wonne with bribes. Theſe two conditions be in a Religious man, that voluntarily imbraceth Pouerty, who liuing ſparingly, is not moleſted, or ouerpreſſed with troubles in his ſleep, and becauſe he is not a proprietary, his enemys do not eaſily corrupt him with brybes. Wherfore there is not a more vigilant keeper, nor a more ſtout defender of the wall of Religion, then a truely Religious poore man. Beſides, neceſſary it is, that the Citty walls be often looked vpon, that where and when need is, they may be repaired, and ſtrengthned. For if they ſhall begin once either to decay, or to bend and incline to one part, a remedy will hardly be found. So the Pouerty of Religiō muſt often be examined, and looked into, that it be not in any part looſened, and if it happen to be, that it be repayred againe. For ſo Religion will be more ſtrongly fortified, and the ſtate therof the more ſecured. For as the firſt drift of the enemy is to vndermine and ouerthrow the walls of ſome bulwarke; ſo the greateſt care of them, who defend it, muſt be, that the walls be conſerued and kept.

7. It is alſo called the mother of the Religious, becauſe Pouerty is that which firſt communicateth to a Religious man his very eſſence and nature, and nouriſheth and bringeth him vp. True it is, that ſhe is ſomwhat ſeuere in the educatiō of her children, not for that ſhe withdraweth frō them ſome commodityes neceſſary, but rather ſuperfluous: yet ſhe doth it for a good end, namely, that her children may become valiant ſouldiers; and fight manfully againſt all kind of vices. For ſhe well knoweth, that a man brought vp in delicacy, and nothing accuſtomed to the enduring of labours, cannot be a good ſouldier Amongſt the conditions of this mother one is, that to her children that loue her, ſhe is deare and gratefull, and to them that loue her not, ſeuere and ſterne; and whoſoeuer is bound to be vnder the gouernment of ſuch a Mother, if he ſhall refuſe to accommodate himſelfe vnto her, he ſhall not be without a continuall affliction all his life long.

8. If it diſpleaſe thee, Sonne, to haue ſuch a Mother, remember that Pouerty hath not choſen thee for her Sonne, but contrarywiſe, that thou haſt choſen her for thy Mother, & ſhe accepted thee for her Sonne. Thou alſo in regard of thy Vow ar • bound perpetually to lead thy life with ſuch a Mother, and therfore it is not any longer in thy power to leaue her off, thou being bound to loue, honour, and defend her. Tell me, ſhould not that Sonne ſinne grieuouſly, who ſhould handle his Mother ill & rudely, or ſhould thruſt her out of her houſe? And what other thing is it for thee to enioy and vſe ſome little thinges for the ſatisfying of thyne owne deſire, but wickedly to handle thy Mother, Pouerty? And nothing to regard her, what is it els, then to driue her out of thy hart, which is her habitation, and houſe to dwell in? Take heed, my Sonne, what thou doſt, becauſe all the hurt returneth vpon thine owne head, ſith it is certaine, that ſhe needeth not thy ſeruice, but thou needeſt her help; neither canſt thou lead a Religious life without her: ſhe is not bound to thee, but thou to her. The Kingdome of heauen belongeth to the poore, but he that will not know Pouerty for his Mother, ſhall neither haue part in that inheritance which is the kingdom of heauen.

9. Lord, I know and vnderſtand wel, that to make the Vow of Pouerty, is nothing els, then to promiſe to thy maieſty, that I neither will haue, nor haue a will to haue any thing proper, and will lead my life in Pouerty. But I long to know, whether I can ſatisfy my Vow of Pouerty, if I poſſeſſe nothing of myne owne, and yet all things are pleaſing vnto me, and agreable to my manner of doing.

10. Sonne, as it pleaſeth me, that euery one be prouided of thinges neceſſary: ſo it diſpleaſeth me, if a Religious man either haue, or procureth to haue ſuperfluityes. But what is neceſſary, or profitable, it is not for thee to iudge (for we be eaſily beguiled by our ſenſes, or our owne affection) but thy Superiour. It is for the Superiour to iudge, what is conuenient for Pouerty. He is not poore who wanteth nothing, neither liueth he after the māner of the poore, who hath all things, as he liſteth.

SONNE, he that is prouided of rents after the manner of poore, & yet will, like vnto the rich, make great expences, goeth greatly awry: for he ſhall within a while find himſelfe ſo ſorely engaged, as he muſt be forced to lye in priſon, and there be puniſhed, vntill he ſhall haue payed the very laſt farthing. Whatſoeuer thou haſt in Religion, is giuen thee by me, and for me, and I haue giuen it thee, as to a poore man for thy vſe, and neceſſary for thy Religion. But if thou wilt vſe, and ſpend the thinges of Religion, after the manner of the rich, at thyne owne will, as though thou wert an abſolute owner thereof, it will fall out ill with thee, becauſe thou art one day to giue a ſtrait accompt of all. Thou haſt forſaken all that thou haſt in the world, and that thou mighteſt not vſe them at thyne owne will, thou art ſpoiled of them: Why then doeſt thou in Religion thinke to vſurpe a dominion vpon another mans goods, and to diſpoſe of them at thy liſt? This, certes, is neither conuenient, nor pleaſing to me. Wherfore thou muſt needs reſolue to vſe the thinges of Religion, as my things, and conſecrated to me, and what is transferred to thy owne vſe, thou art to handle not as thine, but as myne, allowed of me to thee by thy Superiour, and that to ſerue thy vſe as long as it ſhall pleaſe me, ſo as it is in my will to take it from thee, when it ſhall to me ſeeme good.

2. It doth diſpleaſe me much, when a Religious man is tranſported with ſo great a deſire to ſomething that is permitted him to vſe, as he can hardly forgoe it againe, when reaſon requireth. For what manner of beaſt ſhould that be, who being hired to beare burdens, would not haue the inſtruments afterward taken from him, that were fit to beare the burden with eaſe? Whatſoeuer Religion aſſigneth to euery one, it doth it for my ſeruice, & whether I would take ſomething away from any, or permit him to vſe it ſtill, he muſt not be therefore grieued, or troubled. An ouer great affection to thinges lent, maketh them to become anothers.

3. O how much do thoſe Religious offend me, who be aſhamed to be poore, & to weare a poore garment, or to vſe a ſlender dyet. For how can it be they ſhould be aſhamed for that, which is to them a glory, by the benefit whereof they are raiſed to ſo high a ſtate, and maketh them like their Lord and Maiſter? Could they be forgetfull of their promiſe made of Pouerty? If they haue not forgotten it, wherefore do they ſo lightly eſteeme it? What man is there in the world, who would be aſhamed of his profeſſion? And ſith the Religious man hath made a profeſſion of Pouerty, and that publiquely, what is the cauſe, that he is aſhamed of it? Some ſeruants of myne did not ſo who now enioy eternall felicity in heauen, who were rather confounded, if they found any more poore then themſelues. Who is aſhamed of vertue, plainely declareth that he loueth it not. An euill ſigne it is to hate Pouerty, which is a principall vertue, and proper to Religious life.

4. There be others, who are aſhamed of their parents pouerty; and ſome againe who brag and boaſt of their riches, and both of theſe be affections of a Religious man ill mortified. That the Parents be rich, is not a vertue, wherfore then ſhould a Religious man glory of them? Yea the richer they be, in the greater danger be the Religious, leaſt they one day looke backe, and for that cauſe they haue greater matter of feare, then of glorying. And that thy parents be poore, was it through any fault of thyne? & if not, wherfor ſhouldſt thou be aſhamed, or afflicted for it? If to be poore in the world ſhould be a crime, thou ſhouldeſt haue a iuſt cauſe of confuſion: but it is not. Or if Pouerty ſhould make the way to heauen more hard, thou mightſt worthily be ſory, and complaine: but it is more then certaine, that the coming to it is made hard, not by Pouerty and want, but by riches. Wilt thou haue thy Patents rich? Procure then that they may be vertuous, & content with their eſtate: for ſo they ſhall be in Gods grace and friendſhip, which by many degrees ſurpaſſeth all the riches and honours of this life. The Religious man that hath a deſire his Parents ſhould be great and honorable in the world, and laboureth not that they be prouided of ſpirituall riches, ſheweth himſelfe to haue very little charity, and no ſpirit at all.

5. It is alſo a ſore defect in the Vow of Pouerty, if a man thinke he hath done inough, when he poſſeſſeth nothing as his owne, and in the meane time is ſollicitous, that he may want nothing. Certes, I ſee not how there can be any coherence betweene theſe two. To make a Vow of Pouerty, and not to haue a will to make a tryall of Pouerty: To be poore, and not to be willing to try the effect of it: To loue Pouerty, & yet to haue a will to be far off from it. I was my ſelfe poore, for that in the whole courſe of my life I experienced the effects of Pouerty, by ſuffering hunger, thirſt, heat, cold, wearines, nakednes, and a thouſand incommodityes. I loued Pouerty, and therefore I would haue it to accompany me to my Croſſe, where I was nayled naked vnto it. My Apoſtles alſo, and ſome of my diſciples and followers ſuffred many incommodities of Pouerty, euen vntill their dying day. But thou not only ſeekeſt no occaſion of ſuffering any thing, after the manner of poore perſons, in thy meate, drinke, & cloathing, but further moſt carefully, and importunely thou ſeekeſt for what is beſt, and more commodious, and if thou haue it not, thou art troubled, and murmureſt for it, and which is worſe, thou oftentymes pretendeſt neceſſity and health, when it is thy meere ſenſuality. He is not poore, who ſhunneth the incommodityes of the poore. O how did thoſe Religious pleaſe me, who notwithſtanding they were deſtitute of ordinary things, and of neceſſary ſometimes alſo, yet complained not, nor were ſory for it, but with ioy ſayd: This is to be a poore one of Chriſt, his name be euer bleſſed for it.

6. Thoſe alſo, who are not content with the common entertainment of Religion, but without iuſt cauſe deſire either ſome particularityes, or not neceſſaryes, do ſorely weaken, yea and ouerthrow their Vow of Pouerty. For in the one there is meere ſuperfluity; in the other there be made expenſes without neceſſity, and both of them be repugnant to Pouerty, whereof it is commonly ſayd, As much as is inough, and no more. To vſe parſimony in the things of Religiō, and to ſpend them but when neceſſity requireth, is not miſery (as the haters of Pouerty will haue it) but an act of vertue, becauſe Pouerty exacteth it.

7. It is alſo a vice and fault, repugnant to Religious Pouerty, both to take thinges without the Superiours leaue, and to giue them vnto others. For whatſoeuer is giuen to a Religious man, is the Religious, not the mans, who cannot haue any thing proper, and therfore if he accepteth of gifts, he ſheweth himſelfe a proprietary: ſo if he giueth any thing to another, he maketh a ſhew that himſelfe is the owner therof, and both the one and the other, that is, propriety, & dominion be repugnant to Religious Pouerty. Neither is that Religious man altogeather free from fault, who accepteth, or giueth things of very little value, ſith in the Vow of Pouerty there is not any exception made of things little or great, but he hath abſolutly promiſed, that he will not vſurpe any propriety in any thing, either little or great, nor take any dominion to himſelfe therein. An errour in little and light things, doth not for go the name of an errour.

8. Finally Pouerty is an hurt, when the expenſes be ſuperfluous, and the thinges that be bought, be rather curious and faire, then profitable and neceſſary. He that is truely poore, and imbraceth Pouerty with ſincerity, laboureth to do what it required and no more. For what difference is it for a religious man to haue a faire guilded book or a garment ſowed with ſilke; when as a booke not guilded might ſerue him as well as guilded, and a garment ſown with common thrid, would be as good for him, as ſowne with ſilke? And if the one conſorteth more with Pouerty, then the other, why will he not conforme himſelfe to Pouerty? In like manner tell me, I pray thee, what is the cauſe, that a Religious man retayneth and keepeth other mens things in his chamber, that do him no good, and yet might profit others? Is not that ſuperfluous, that hindreth anothers good?

9. Sonne, thou haſt a deſire to be receiued into the number of the poore, either in earth or in heauen. If in earth, it is inough that thou haſt made a Vow of Pouerty, and be reckoned amongſt the poore, and if in heauen, it is not inough, but further there is required thou be poore in deed, that is, that thou cut off all ſuperfluityes, and exerciſe thy ſelfe continually euen till death in the acts of Pouerty, and this is to be a true Religious man. He is not to be numbred in the company of my poore, who will aboūd in ſuperfluityes, neither ſhall he come to the reward of the poore, who ſhall not haue made a tryall of the effects of Pouerty.

SONNE, if the vertue of Chaſtity were not, it would be greatly amiſſe with man ſith the concupiſcence of the fleſh is of that nature and condition, that if it were not reſtrayned in time, it would make a man (otherwiſe indued with reaſon and vnderſtanding) in a ſhort time like a brute beaſt. For the pleaſure and itching of the ſenſes do ſo obſcure and blind a mans mind, as they draw it into all manner of filth and vncleanes: whence it cometh to paſſe, that when the will is abandoned of iudgment and aduiſe, a man runneth in a miſerable manner headlong into all wickednes. Hence it is, that a man giuen to the pleaſures of the fleſh is ſpoyled of all courage & power of doing well, ſpeaketh & thinketh not of any other thing, then of laſciuiouſnes and carnality, nor wiſheth any other thing, then that he may al his life long haue his fill of ſuch kind of delights and pleaſures, and for this cauſe he alſo hateth the other life. Neither doth a carnall mans madnes ſtay heere, but his hatred further extendeth it ſelfe to his Creatour, who hath by his law prohibited thoſe foule pleaſures of the fleſh, and condemned them. In a ſenſuall man the ſenſe fayleth, and the fault increaſeth.

2. Another condition of concupiſcence is, that there is no good which a ſenſual man contemneth not, nor any euill that he committeth not, ſo he may enioy and compaſſe what he vnlawfully deſireth. He hath no regard or conſideration of riches, which for the ſatisfying of his luſt and ſenſuality, he waſteth not: he expoſeth his life to a thouſand daungers: he hath no care of his health at all: he reſpecteth not the doing againſt his conſcience, and to hurt his owne ſoule, ſo he may enioy his deſires. Finally he preferreth his carnalityes before all that is both in earth and heauen. He becometh 〈1 page duplicate〉 〈1 page duplicate〉 〈1 page duplicate〉 〈1 page duplicate〉 〈1 page duplicate〉 〈1 page duplicate〉 ſenſuall and beaſtly, who exerciſeth beaſtly actions.

3. A third condition of concupiſcence is, that it is neuer ſatisfyed, but increaſeth more and more by ſenſuall pleaſures, and ſetteth the body ſo on fire, as no feuer though neuer ſo burning and hoate, ſo ſore tormenteth a man, as doth the concupiſcence; nor any fury of hel is ſo turmoyled, or in ſo great torments, as is a luxurious man, whoſe burning and raging heate is ſo great, as it may ſeeme not poſſible to be extinguiſhed, but by death. The fleſh firſt tyeth a man faſt, next it blindeth him, and laſtly it tormenteth him. Who hath no will to be thus handled, let him not put himſelf into the fleſhes tormenting hands.

4. With this peſtiferous, and vnruly wild beaſt the vertue of Chaſtity is to make warre, who being called on for her ayde, willingly preſenteth her ſelfe, & greatly repreſſeth the fury of this beaſt, and abateth the concupiſcences heat. Wherfore it is the generall office and charge of Chaſtity to moderate and direct all the deſires of the ſenſes according to the rule of reaſon, by yealding vnto euery degree of Continency what is conuenient and no more. And becauſe there be diuers degrees of Continency, there be alſo diuers permiſſions and prohibitions therof which ſhe preſcribeth. In the firſt and loweſt degree is the continency of the married, who are only forbidden vnlawfull pleaſures. In the ſecond is that of widowes; in the third that of the ſingle and vnmarried, who do not only renounce vnlawfull pleaſures of the fleſh, but alſo the lawfull which they might enioy without ſinne, if they had a will to marry. In the fourth degree is Continency of Virgins, which as it is more perfect then the aforeſaid, ſo deſerueth it a greater reward, the perfection wherof conſiſteth not only in a firme purpoſe of contayning from all manner of venereous pleaſures, but alſo in the perpetual conſeruation of virginal Chaſtity. In the fifth and higheſt degree is placed the cōtinency of religious, which though it be not ſometymes Virginall, is yet in perfectiō more excellent then the reſt, for that it is by Vow conſecrated vnto me, which becauſe it is an act of excellent Charity, and of the greateſt of all the morall vertue, namely of Religion, cauſeth greateſt perfection, and excellency to Religious Continency.

5. Now the law of Chaſtity commandeth Religious Continency to exerciſe three offices worthy of it ſelfe. The firſt is, to conſerue the purity of the fleſh, whereunto is required a great courage. For ſith the fleſh of it ſelfe is prone to incontinency, and impurity, a great alacrity and courage of mind is neceſſary towards the keeping of it vnder, that a man, who naturally loueth and fauourech his owne fleſh, nor eaſily ſuffereth it to be afflicted, giue it not the bridle ouer much, nor plunge himſelfe into the myre & puddle of carnall pleaſures. A ſecond office is to keep a gard ouer the ſenſes, and therunto needeth vigilancy, and diligence. For ſeing the ſenſes be wandring and ſlipery, & preſent a thouſand occaſions of ſuch pleaſures, vnles a Religious man ſhal be very diligent in keeping them, they will eaſily breake out beyond their bands. The third office is to conſerue the purity of the mind vnſtayned, wherein circumſpection is very neceſſary for the conſidering & examining of what is admitted thereunto. And if there be any thing that may ſtayne or infect, it muſt be kept out, for that it is more eaſy to keep it from entring, then to thruſt it out, after it be entred.

6. Sonne, this is the law of Religious Chaſtity, and theſe be the offices thereof. If thou deſire to be holpen thereby, ſeeing for that end thou requireſt the ayde of it, thou muſt alſo needs fauour it, and not deny it thyne help, that it may diſcharge it owne office. If thou ſhouldſt deny this thou ſhouldſt do, as if thou calledſt a Phiſitian home vnto thee, but wouldſt not haue him to touch the ſicke mans wound for feare of the payne, or loathing that would follow. This is not the way of curing the ſicke body, but of increaſing his ſicknes rather. The body inured to pleaſure, is wont to complaine, that Chaſtity is euer exact and ſeuere in executiō of the precepts of her laws, which forbids many things and permits few. But theſe be the complaints of the nyce, delicate and ſenſuall ſicke, who ordinarily deſire & long for the thinges that be moſt hurtfull vnto them, which if they be yealded vnto, do hurt them, and therefore ſuch things be more diſcretly denyed them. Suffer the Phiſitian my Sonne, to put his hand to the yron; for the loathſome ſore of carnall concupiſcence, vnles it be launced in tyme, will eaſily grow to a feſtred, and peſtiferous impoſtume. He that will not with a very little payne be cured as he ought, ſhall be els where eternally tormented, as he deſerueth.

LORD, I well vnderſtand, that it is very conuenient, that he be chaſt, who attendeth to thy ſeruice, conſidering by the benefit of his Vow he is conſecrated and bound to thee, the fountaine of all purity. It is nothing agreable, that vnder a cleane and pure head the members ſhould be filthy and fowle. But I know not how I may long defend my Chaſtity, ſith I haue at home a capitall enemy, who truſting to both inward and outward helps, becometh ſo ſtout & hardy, as I almoſt deſpaire of the victory. Now thou knoweſt, o Lord, how ſore this inſolent and proud fleſh perſecuteth the purity of my ſoule. Thou art not ignorant, how many aſſaults it maketh night and day vpon it. And yet this doth not make me afraid. Another thing perplexeth and troubleth me much more, that is, that both the wantoneſſe and rebellion of the ſenſes within, and the moſt cruell enemy Sathan without, do miniſter helps vnto it.

2. Sonne, what thou ſayſt is moſt true, but thou muſt not be diſmayd for it: for the greater that the enemies boldnes & poweris, the more glorious wil the victory & crown be that followeth after. Neither ſhalt thou want my help, only play thou the man, and vſe all thy forces for the maintayning of Chaſtity, and no enemy from within or without ſhall get the victory from thee. And ſeeing thou acknowledgeſt, and confeſſeſt alſo, that it is conuenient, that my Religious ſeruants be chaſt, as I their Lord am; know thou that I was euer ſo harty a louer of purity, as myne aduerſaries, who calumniated me in very many things, durſt not accuſe or condemne me of the very leaſt defect againſt Chaſtity. And that the Religious ought to be ſuch their ſtate exacteth, ſith they make a profeſſion to be my followers, & imitators of my life. Wherfore ſeing I was exceedingly affected to this vertue of Chaſtity, and regarded it as the guid of a ſpirituall life, requiſite it is, that they alſo imbrace and take it for their Lady and Miſtreſſe.

3. And becauſe I make ſo high an eſteem of purity, and am in the higheſt degree auerted from the vice of concupiſcence, why wouldſt thou haue me to entertayne a diſhoneſt ſeruant within my houſe? or that I ſhould endure him in the ſame? How ſhould I ſuffer, that any ſeruice ſhould be done me by him, whom I know to haue an vncleane mind? The ſeruant that accommodateth not himſelfe to his Lord and Maiſter, or neglecteth to procure his loue and good will, either will not be long ſtable in his office, or if he continue in it, will make very little profit therby, and will put himſelfe in danger of being thruſt out, to his owne great hurt, and no little ſhame and confuſion. Do I require at my ſeruants hands any thing vnfitting, vnſeemly, or impoſſible? I require purity, which is a principall vertue: I require of him, that he ſuffer not himſelfe to be ſupplāted or ouercome by his ſenſuality, and this is honorable. I exact of him, that which he hath promiſed, and that is to liue chaſtly, which is a point of iuſtice.

4. Further, I long to know, wherein conſiſteth to leaue and forſake the world? Not that a man giue ouer to liue vnder heauen, or to dwell on earth, or to draw this ayre (for all theſe be neceſſary, and as common to ſecular men, as to Religious) but that he lead a life far different from that of the world. Amongſt the euills of this world one is, to neglect ſpirituall things, & to ſeeke after the pleaſures, & contentments of the fleſh. The Religious therfore, who forſake the world in ſincerity, muſt lead a life in conuerſation and manners contrary to the world, by mortification of their deſires, by a renunciatiō of the ſenſes delights, and by a contemning of whatſoeuer this blind world loueth and imbraceth: and in brief, their conuerſation muſt be in heauen. But nothing ſo much contradicteth the deſire of heauenly things, & nothing is ſo preiudiciall to the taſt of ſpirituall matters, as is incontinency: whiles on the contrary, nothing promoteth a Religious man ſo to the leading of an heauenly life, as doth Chaſtity alone, which as it conſerueth the mind pure ſo doth it rayſe a Religious man to the contemplation of heauenly thinges. The further thy life is off from that of the world, the more ſecure ſhall thy Chaſtity be, and vpon earth will ſooner further thee to the leading of a celeſtiall life.

5. Sonne, doeſt thou conceiue the cauſe why any vnchaſt man, euen amongſt the heathens, neuer came to ſo great impudency as he durſt publiquely in the preſence of others commit any laſciuious act, but rather cōfounded in himſelfe, would ſeek about for corners, and hidden places, wherby to hide and couer his fault. Naturall light hath taught him, that all acts of vncleanes be vnworthy the ſight of men, and therefore he ſeeketh corners, and hideth himſelfe, fearing leaſt he ſhould attempt, or do any thing againſt his honour, and the rule of reaſon. Wherefore if an act repugnant to Chaſtity be vnworthy an heathen, how much more vnworthy a Chriſtian, in whoſe law the vice of concupiſcence is condemned. And much more vnworthy be they in a Religious man, who hath profeſſed Chaſtity, and bound himſelfe by ſolemnity of Vow alſo to liue chaſtly. And though a man in committing any foule act of carnality auoydeth to be ſeen of men, yet ſhall he not eſcape the ſight of God, who is euery where, and beholdeth all thinges.

6. That one man ſubiecteth himſelfe for loue of me to another, his inferiour, depending vpon his will, and obeying him in all things, is both honorable, and very meritorious, for that whatſoeuer is done for the loue of me, is done to me, and it is my part to remunerate & reward it. But that a man placed in a high eſtate, ſhould to his owne great hurt and reproach ſubiect himſelfe to a vile thing, and inferiour to himſelfe, is repugnant to my will, who am Lord alſo of man. Go too now, tell me my Son, whether it be more conuenient, that a Religious man ſubiect himſelfe to the ſenſuall part, namely to the hand-mayd, or to permit, that reaſon, as the miſtreſſe commaund him. And if this be more conuenient, & not that, it is more meete alſo, that a Religious man make an eſteeme of Chaſtity, by help wherof he may bring the hand-mayd Concupiſcence in ſubiection to Reaſon, her lawful miſtreſſe. He that putteth himſelfe vnder him that he ſhould not, is alſo handled in the manner that he would not.

7. Sonne, he that hath enemyes, hath need of a guard for his perſon. And as he, who hath them within and without his hold, is in the greater danger, ſo needeth he greater help, eſpecially if both ſorts of enemyes, both within and without, ſhall conſpire togeather. But what ſhould he deſerue, who by putting his enemyes into priſon, had deliuered his caſtle from danger? He ſhould deſerue, no doubt, to obtayne of the Gouernour of the Caſtle whatſoeuer he would.

8. Sonne, thou haſt one domeſticall & troubleſom enemy within, namely thy fleſh, and two without, to witt, the world and the diuell, who are ioyned in a confederacy togeather, and ſeeke to inuade & breake into the fortreſſe of thy hart. How much then may Chaſtity deſerue at thy hands, which, by the ouerthrow of thy fleſh, and beaſtly deſires, thy domeſticall enemyes, exempteth thee out of ſo great a danger? Iudge thou, how great eſteeme thou oughſt to make of Chaſtity, which is both thy faythfull friend, and a capitall enemy of thyne enemyes? Conſider if it were not thy part to fauour her, ſith ſhe ſo greatly fauoureth and helpeth thee. Thou muſt needs be ingrate, if thou forbeare to chooſe her for the gouerneſſe of thy hart, that ſhe may conſerue it free from all impurity, and defend it from the guiles of crafty concupiſcence. Who acknowledgeth not his owne miſery and danger, is nothing ſollicitous about any to help him.

IN euery white and pure thing, the very leaſt ſtayne appeareth, and the whiter it is, the more plainly doth the ſpot diſcouer it ſelfe. Euen ſo in a Religious life, becauſe it is moſt white & pure, the very leaſt defect of purity is obiected to the eyes, and offendeth them that ſee it. Secular men haue Religious for certaine ſpectacles of vertues: but a looking-glaſſe diſpleaſeth, vnles it be all cleare and ſhining. In other vertues a light default neuer offendeth ſo much, or doth ſo great hurt in a Religious man, as doth a defect in Chaſtity. A Religious man doth not eaſily incurre the loſſe of his good name, if either he tranſgreſſe ſomewhat againſt meeknes, becauſe he is by nature cholerike, or be not very franke and liberall, or ſeeketh after a little vayne glory, or be not perfectly humble • r fall into ſome like defect. But if he commit but ſome very little matter againſt Chaſtity, he forthwith obſcureth the opinion of his good name. For euery wiſe man iudgeth that a Religious man, though he be neuer ſo hard, and faſt handed, may yet be an holy man. In like manner one by nature cholerike, or ſomewhat curious, may yet be pious and deuout: but when they come to Chaſtity, the contrary is conceyued, namely, that there cānot be any holines, where incontinency is, nor that the deuotion can be ſincere, where the perturbations of mind beare ſway: neither can there be ſpirit, where the fleſh commaundeth. Beſides, the defects of other vertues be eaſily excuſed, either for that they grow of a naturall complexion, as choller, or for that they proceed of a good end and intention, as is ſparing and frugality: but a defect of carnall concupiſcence is condemned of all, and excuſed of none.

2. All thinke Religious men to be as it were the Salt of the Earth, and the Light of the World, as my Scripture ſpeaketh, and therfore they need to take paynes, that the true propertyes of ſalt and light may concurre in them. Salt with the ſharpnes drieth vp the humors, and preſerueth from putrifaction, but • it be not pure, or be mixed with earth, it not only not preſerueth, but alſo cauſeth putrifaction the ſooner. So if a Religious man be pure, and ſincere in his words, & counſailes, he will eaſily conſerue others, but if he be vncleane & ſtayned with a litle ſtayne of carnal deſires, he will by his bad example eaſily marre them. Light alſo ſerueth to giue light, and to ſhew where the dangers and downfalls be, but if the candles weeke be either foule, or moiſt, it yealdeth more of ſmoke then of light. So a Religious man, if he haue not a pure and cleane hart, will not only not enlightē, but alſo obſcure, and darken the way, that both himſelfe, & all that do accompany him, may ſhamefully ſtumble, and ſo giue a greater ſtincke and ſmell, then light. He ſhall haue much a do to conſerue & enlighten others, who neglecteth to keep and giue light to himſelfe.

3. Moreouer the Religious life is ſo tender and delicate, as not only the defect of purity, but the very leaſt ſuſpition of incontinency alſo hurteth a Religious man much. Who would eſteeme that matrone for wiſe, who ſhould for help and counſailes ſake go to a Religious man, ſuſpected of incontinency? Is it not an extreme miſery, that a Religious man conſecrated to me, ſhould be ill reported of? Certes, the Religious perſon, that ſhould make no reckoning of his good name with his neighbour, receyueth no good by him neither. O how grieuouſly 〈1 page duplicate〉 〈1 page duplicate〉 〈1 page duplicate〉 〈1 page duplicate〉 do thoſe Religious men ſinne, who do not beware of falling into the occaſions of being infamed by ſuch a vice, but perſwade themſelues, that it is inough, if they commit nothing that is euill by deed, whatſoeuer men ſay and report of them. They are not without fault, if they giue but the occaſiōs of ſuch obloquies and detractions: for they are bound not only to fly from the vice it ſelfe, but alſo to take away all ſuſpition therof. He that hateth the Diuell, will not eaſily endure to ſee him painted.

4. It is nothing conuenient to thruſt a man againſt reaſon out of his owne houſe, neither can it be done in conſcience. Remember, Sonne, that thy hart is my Temple and my houſe. I haue layd the foundations of it, raiſed and perfected the building, and whatſoeuer is faire and precious in it, hath come from me. And that this houſe might be euer beautifull, & that I might ſtill make my aboad and habitation therein, I deliuered it to the keeping of Chaſtity, a truſty & vigilant keeper. But if thou wouldeſt now thruſt me againſt all reaſon out of it, thou canſt not do it without moſt grieuous ſacriledge. And if thou haſt a will to driue Chaſtity out of the houſe of thy hart, that concupiſcence may commaund in it, thou mayſt not do that alſo without a great crime. He that thruſteth out him, of whome he is holpen and honoured, will eaſily fall into the hands of ſome one, who will handle him according to his deſertes.

5. Tell me, I pray thee, when thou vowedſt perpetuall Chaſtity, what didſt thou promiſe to God? Didſt thou not promiſe, that thou wouldſt from thenceforth make warre againſt all carnal pleaſures both of body and mind? Didſt thou not promiſe to perſeuere chaſt to thy liues end? Doſt thou not therefore thinke, that thou art bound neceſſarily to performe thy promiſe, ſith thou canſt not look any more backe? Knoweſt thou not, what my Apoſtle ſayth: Who ſhall violate, or defile Gods Temple, God will deſtroy him? And if thou for ſome litle carnall pleaſure driueſt me out of thy hart, with what right canſt thou challeng of me to be receiued into the kingdom of heauen? And if for a little pleaſure of the ſenſes, by defyling thy hart, thou abuſeſt Chaſtity, wherefore ſhouldſt thou exact her to bring thee to the viſion of God, promiſed to the cleane of hart alone? Vnderſtand therefore that it is no way good for thee in the very leaſt thing to offend againſt Chaſtity, becauſe thou haſt by Vow of Chaſtity promiſed no way to preiudice her purity, neither in great matters, nor in little.

6. It is further neceſſary that a Religious man aſpire to the perfection of Chaſtity for this, for that he hath made a profeſſion of leading a ſpirituall life, which ſith it hath not a more ſworne enemy, then the concupiſcence of the fleſh, cannot poſſibly liue a ſpirital life, vnles the fleſh be firſt brought in ſubiection to the ſpirit. For the Religious who is truely ſpirituall, muſt not only be a ſtranger to the vice of the fleſh, but alſo be auerted from all thoſe, that haue their origen from the fleſh, or haue any dealing with it at all. And therfore he muſt diligently, & carefully exclude and keep out all bad cogitations, & impure ſuggeſtions. In his talke he muſt be circumſpect, that any words fall not from his mouth, that may ſeem againſt honeſty. He muſt not caſt his eyes vpon Iaſciuious acts, though they ſhould be done without ſinne. And theſe be helps for the mortification of the fleſh. But I would haue thee, Sonne, to conſider and obſerue, that the fleſh ſometyms faigneth it ſelfe dead, when it is not, & pretendeth it ſelfe to be in moſt great ſubiection to the ſpirit. But then a wiſe and ſpirituall Religious man muſt be moſt of all vpon his gard: for it is accuſtomed to diſſemble the matter vpon hope of • ommodityes, and of greater liberty, and in • yme it perſwadeth the Religious man to withdraw ſomewhat of his former rigour, • th it was ready to yeald moſt prompt ſer • ice to the ſpirit. But he that will not be • eceiued, or beguyled by the crafty fleſh, muſt vſe the counſaile of his ſpiritual father. There is no truſt to be had to a diſſembling • nemy, becauſe by his faigning he diſco • ereth himſelfe.

SONNE, when I did in my Ghoſpel vnder the name of Eunuches commend • hem who do for the loue of me voluntarily make the Vow of perpetuall Chaſtity (for • his is to make himſelfe an Eunuch, and • o geld himſelf for the kingdom of heauen) I did intend that very thing, becauſe a man by ſuch a Vow, as it were with one ſharpe cut of a knife, cutteth off all power, and occaſions of vſing carnall pleaſures. For what is not any longer lawfull, is truly ſayd to be impoſſible. And hauing commended theſe my chaſt Eunuches, I added, He that can take, let him take. For I knew, that all would not vnderſtand the moſt great vtilityes, that p • petuall continency bringeth to the Religious. I omit to mention heere, how by the benefit of it they are freed from infinit moleſtations and troubles, and the reproachfu • inſolencyes of the fleſh, which if it get one but the leaſt commaund, caſteth headlong euen wiſe men into the bottomles gulfe a vices. And if the care of outward riches b • troubleſome for the ſollicitude they brin • with them, much more cumberſome is the concupiſcence, which becauſe it is homebred, woundeth more ſorely, and therefor • the wounds therof be the more deadly.

2. I ſay nothing that they be eaſed of many afflictions, and carking cares of gouerning their houſe, which be otherwhile • ſo troubleſome, as they bring men to deſperation. It appertayneth to the maiſter of the family to prouide for his wife, for the good bringing vp of his children, for the placing of his daughters in marriage, to take care that no neceſſary thing be wanting, that the ſeruants of both ſexes do their duty. And if all in that family be good and modeſt and well ordred, and yet there is no want of troubles; what will there then be, if many of them be peruerſe, vntoward, and vnruly? I pretermit, that the Religious by the benefit of the ſayd Vow be deliuered from the •• ſpitions of wife and children, which are • ont otherwhiles ſo to torment the huſ • ands, as therby they become almoſt mad, • nd out of their wits. Finally I forbeare to • emember other infinite incommodityes, & • nluckly euents, which happen vnexpe • ed in families, and are wont wonderfully 〈◊〉 vexe and trouble the maiſters of the fami • y. Wo be to thoſe Religious men, who free • om ſo many impediments and ſnares, do • ot labour to the perfection of their ſtate.

3. Religious Chaſtity then cutteth off • ll theſe troubles, and vnquiet thoughts, & • uſeth the Religious man, as a Cittizen of • eauen, content with his vocation, to at • end only to the cōtemplation of heauenly • hings, and to the procuring of his owne • oules good. And how healthfull and pro •• table this is, thoſe Religious know well, who farre remoued from the ſayd buſines • f imployment, do liue a ſingle life. The • fflicted men of the world alſo are not igno • ant therof, who to their great hurt, and griefe haue a dayly experience of thoſe trou • les and miſeries. And if there were no • hing els, then to thinke how to pleaſe their wiues, how to appeare the before world, • ow to content their kins-folks & friends, this were a croſſe heauy inough to beare • long as they liue. But the chaſt Religion need not to thinke vpon any other thing, then how to pleaſe me. O how much mo •• eaſy it is to pleaſe me, then the world, an • how much ſooner the Creatour is ſatisfyed then the Creature. Whoſoeuer in this lif • pleaſeth God moſt, ſhall haue the highe • place of honour in his court of Heauen.

4. Againe the ſecular man, tyed in marryage, hath no power of his owne body, b •• the wife hath a commaund ouer it. For ſ •• writteth my Apoſtle, & it is moſt true, that the law of Matrimony requireth it. And i • not this a kind of ſeruitude to be at the commaund of a Woman? and ſeing it is not for one yeare, nor for ten, but for the whole life, is it not a continuall ſeruitude. It is indeed to be confeſſed, that the tribulation is the leſſe, if the man happen vpon a vertuous wife, and yet it looſeth not the name of ſeruitude. But when he lighteth vpon a vayn • impudēt, quareling, or ſcolding wife, wha • is it but an hell? How great is the husband • miſery? What boundſlaue is worſe handle • then he? But a chaſt Religious man hath t • do with Chaſtity, that is, a benigne vertue▪ he hath to deale with me, who though hi • Lord and Maiſter, yet a moſt louing & kin • Father. And to ſerue me by Vow of Chaſtity, is nothing els, then to heap vp ſtore of merits, and to increaſe them. Vnhappy is the man, who by his ſeruing others profiteth himſelfe nothing: but more vnhappy is • he, who ſuſtayneth detriment alſo, and loſſe of the things he hath.

5. Moreouer, he that is forced to keep company both night & day with a cruell & enuenimed wild beaſt, is in a manifeſt hazard of his life, either by his byting or impoyſoning him. But if a man could be able to ſtop vp the beaſts mouth, that he could neither bite him, nor ſpit out the poyſon at him, he could not but profit and do himſelfe good. Sonne, no wild beaſt is more cruell, nor more full of venime, then is our fleſh, the byting & venime wherof deſtroyeth & killeth the ſoule. And ſeing we be forced to haue the continuall company thereof with vs, no doubt our ſoule muſt needs be in great perill, from which Chaſtity deliuereth it. For whiles by the band of Vow it bindeth the cōcupiſcēce, which is the beaſts mouth, it ſo prouideth that it can neither byte, not caſt forth it poyſon. He is not worthy of commiſeration and pitty, who ſuffereth himſelfe to be bitten of a beaſt chayned and • yed vp: neither deſerueth that man pardon, who contemneth the helps preſented vnto him.

6. When any tumult or ſtyr ariſeth in a common wealth, for the quietting thereof neceſſary it is, that he who firſt cauſed it, be forthwith laid hold on: for when the vulgar and common ſort want their Captaine on whome to relye, they eftſoons diſperſe themſelues, and the tumult endeth. In a religious man, who is like a Commonwealth well ordred, there is a tumult rayſed, when the inferiour part of the mind ſtirreth and rebelleth againſt the ſuperiour, and therfore for the appeaſing of the ſtirre, and bringing of the common wealth to quiet, it muſt impriſon the fleſh, which is the Captaine of the common people, and rayſeth vp the paſſions againſt the ſoule, and the deſires of the ſenſes againſt reaſon. And Chaſtity is that, which by help of the Vowes, putteth the fleſh in priſon, and by well guarding and manning the hart, which is a Religious mans caſtle, preſerueth and maintayneth the common wealth, tranquility and peace. And this vtility, cauſed by Religious Chaſtity, is ſo important, as a Religious man without it, differeth nothing from a certayne Babylonian confuſion.

7. Of this there ariſeth another vtility, nothing inferiour to the aforeſaid; that a Religious man, becauſe by the help of Chaſtity he hath procured peace and quiet of mind within, may alſo go away with victory ouer them that be enemyes without. The generall of an army, who hath his ſouldiers, though few, agreeing and conſpiring togeather, and obedient vnto him, hath not any difficulty in obtayning the victory. So the Religious, if he can keep the inferiour or ſenſuall facultyes ſubiect and obedient to the ſuperiour, may ſecurely ioyne battaile with the aduerſe part, and go away with an vndoubted victory. A vnited ſmal number in an army is farre better then a diſagre • ng or iarring multitude, and therfore the Generall of the warre muſt make much of thoſe in the army, who be the authors of peace and concord in others: Euen ſo in the ſpiritual warre, the Religious who is as the Generall, muſt make an high eſteeme of Chaſtity, which promoteth and furthereth the peace of the ſouldiers. He is eaſily ouercome, who before he commeth to encoun • er with the enemy, hath not drawn his • ouldiers into a firme peace amongſt themſelues.

SONNE, in the battayles that are fought amongſt men, it profiteth ſometymes to come before the face of the enemy, & ſometymes to skirmiſh with him, for as much as boldnes is wont to abate the enemyes courage, and to cauſe him to fly. But in this ſpirituall warre, where we are to fight with the fleſh, the victory is obtayned rather by flying from the enemy, then encountring him. For he, who ſeeketh to ſet vpon his enemy, putteth himſelf into very great danger to be ouercome, and ordinarily his loſſe is greater then is the gaine. Neither ought this to ſeeme ſtrang vnto thee, for that in the conflicts of this world, whiles an aſſault is made vpon the enemy, the ſouldiers courage is ſet the more on fire, and the enemyes harts begin to faint; but in this encounter the contrary happeneth. For the more manfully thou ſhall reſiſt thy concupiſcence, the more it rageth, and the fire of it increaſeth; in ſo much as it either ſtriketh and woundeth, or pricketh, and therefore more wiſdome is ſhewed in flying from it.

2. Thou art not wiſer then Salomon, who becauſe he flying not from the occaſions, fell ſo ſhamefully, as he did. S. Iohn Baptist my precurſour, though he were ſanctified in his mothers wombe, did notwithſtanding for the auoyding of all occaſions of ſinning, hide himſelfe being but a child in the deſert: and wilt thou, who neither art ſanctified, nor ſo vertuous, thruſt thy ſelf into the middeſt of occaſions, & make head againſt thyne enemy to fight with him? This is a manifeſt ſigne, that either thou haſt not got any knowledge of thy ſelfe, or thou makeſt little reckoning of Chaſtities gift.

3. Another meanes is, moſt ſpeedily to repell & ſhake off the foule ſuggeſtions that the Diuell preſenteth to the mind. For they be like little plants, which if they be not fortwith pulled vp out of the ſoules garden, do ſoone take roote, grow, & bring forth thornes, that pricke the mind, and choake vp Chaſtity. A Religious man, who putteth not away vncleane thoughts after he hath once perceiued them, doth declare his liking of them: and if they pleaſe him, how can he loue the purity of mind, that is ſtayned with ſuch manner of thoughts? Againe if foule cogitations hurt; as ſoone as euer they put out their heads; how much more will they hurt, if they ſhall by delay gather more ſtrength? Little coales, though they lye but a little tyme vnder cloaths, do notwithſtanding both cauſe a bad ſmell, and burne the cloath. If the Religious would conſider, from how great incommodityes and troubles they ſhould free themſelues, if they ſhould in the very beginning ſhake of the foule cogitations of carnality, there is none, who would ſuffer the little ones of Babylon to grow to any bignes within his hart, but would inſtantly daſh them againſt the rocke. Our cowardize, and daſtardy in putting away impure cogitations, maketh the Diuell diligent and bold in tempting vs againſt Chaſtity.

4. It helpeth alſo to chaſtityes conſeruation, to be otherwhiles blind, deafe, and mute. For if it be true, that it is not lawful to ſee, or heare what it is not lawfull to deſire, what cauſe hath a Religious man, when he goeth abroad, to caſt his eyes vpon the countenances of all that he meeteth? Let him leaue that office to the Painters, who for the true expreſſing of mens countenances, muſt needs haue their eyes fixed vpon them. A good and chaſt Religious man rather taketh vpon him to contēplate the countenaunces, ſuch as they ſhall one day be after death, then as they be in life. For what profiteth it to behold thoſe things that be nothing good, but be rather impediments to the meditatiō of heauenly things? The leſſe thou ſhalt ſee, or heare of thinges of this world, the more ſecurely ſhalt thou enioy the comfort of Chaſtity.

5. Another ſoueraigne help for the conſeruing of the minds purity, is the auoyding of ydlenes, which as it is mo •• comberſome to Chaſtity, ſo it is moſt contenting to the fleſh, which is accuſtomed to grow wanton by ydlenes, & cōſequently to become more fierce againſt Chaſtity euery day then other. To liue idly, is to ſet open the doore for theeues and robbers to enter into the houſe. For he, who careth not for the looſing of his own goods, doth nothing but giue vnto theeues oportunity of robbing him of what he hath. Who is well buſyed, is not wont to lend his hearing to any one, but in neceſſary matters: but one that is ydle, and giuen to his recreations, is ready to heare all, whether the talke be ſecular, or ſpirituall: if it be ſpirituall, it inſtantly paſſeth away, if it be ſecular and carnall, it taketh increaſe by ydlenes.

6. Conſider thou now, whether it be conuenient that thou be idle, who art come to Religion for no other end, then to ſuffer many labours, and much paynes for Chriſt. And whether it be meet by ydlenes and eaſe to patronize the fleſh againſt Chaſtity, when as thou haſt by Vow promiſed thy Chaſtity to God? Some caſt the fault vpon the Diuell, that they be ouer ſore troubled with impure cogitations, who are rather culpable thēſelues. For he by tempting • eeketh to put occupations vpon them who • aue none, that they may ſatisfy their du • y: and therefore if they ſhould be euer buſy • n ſome pious action or other, the Diuell ſhould not haue any place, and the Chaſtity might be the more ſafely kept. To haue a deſire and will to be ydle, and not to haue a will to be tempted, cannot agree togeather, for that nothing inuiteth the Diuell ſooner • o throw his darts of tentations, then ydlenes, and eaſe.

7. My ſeruants, who now raigne happily in heauen, for the mantayning of their Chaſtity on earth, exerciſed themſelues in two vertues aboue the reſt, to witt, humility and pennance. Humility of hart, like a pious mother, ſeeketh moſt carefully to conſerue Chaſtity, as her deare daughter. For thoſe my ſeruants vnderſtood very well, that it was a very hard matter for a proud, and arrogant perſon to keep & preſerue his flower of Chaſtity. Againe Pennance is the conſeruer of Chaſtity as touching the body, and therfore they were much giuen to the mortifying of their fleſh, ſome to faſtings, others to diſciplines, watchings, and to other afflictions of that kind, knowing that they were the preſeruatiue antidots of purity. And when theſe remedyes will not help, let them vſe more effectuall. Whence it is, that ſome for the extinguiſhing, and putting out the heat of luſt did caſt themſelues into moſt freezing cold waters, ſome into ſnow, others caſt themſelues naked into nettles & thornes, ſome did burne off their owne fingers. By which acts they declared themſelues to be great enemyes to their fleſh and faythfull conſeruers of their Chaſtity. The body cannot be brought vnder ſubiection, but by vſing ſome ſeuerity and rigour to it: and a body vntamed and vnruly can not away with Chaſtity, and in concluſion either cleane abandoneth it, or preſerueth it not long vnſtayned.

LORD, though I deſire much to imbrace this courſe of life without falling and erring, yet I fall & erre ſo often, as I am aſhamed of it. In ſomethinges I make ouermuch haſt, in others I am ouer ſlow, neither can I well reſolue, what I ſhould do. I doe further attempt many thinges, but yet with an vnfortunate euent.

2. Sonne, in this life none is ſufficient of himſelfe, that he may liue as he ought, becauſe none hath euer come to that perfection of knowledge, that he ſhould be free from all errour. Thou knoweſt not, what will be to morrow: the harts of men be to thee vnknown and inſcrutable, neither doſt thou well know thy ſelfe. How then canſt thou without falling or errour either conuerſe with others, or gouerne thy ſelfe? Who trauayleth by night and in darknes, though he fal not, yet he ſtumbleth at leaſt or goeth out of his way. And though thou mayſt be prouided of knowledg & of light, yet where be thy forces, and helps neceſſary for the ouercoming of the difficultyes that often occur? For ſo violent be the perturbations of the mind, as they carry away euen thoſe who ſeeme to haue gone beyond the condition of mans nature, neither be the forces of nature of ability to keep them in. And if in the naturall life, wherin the light of reaſon ſhineth to all, there be ſo many errors, how many will there be in the ſpirituall, wherein there is both leſſe light & vnderſtanding, and greater difficultyes do occurre?

3. So it is Lord, but ſhall we continue in this darknes, depriued of all helps and remedies? Sonne, in this neceſſity the vertue of Obedience is able to giue thee both an help and a remedy, of which it is a common ſaying: Suffer thy ſelfe to be ruled. He that taketh a iourney, and cannot well ſee his way before him, ſtandeth in need of a guide, & of one well ſighted, & that knoweth the way. The vertue of Obedience is that which deliuereth a Religious man into my hands, that I may guide and direct him. And ſeeing I am skillfull of the way, and know the windings, turnings, and difficultyes, let euery Religious man be ſecure and aſſured, that I will faithfully direct him in the way that ſhall bring him to life euerlaſting, ſo he ſuffer himſelfe to be for his owne part gouerned, and brought to his iourneys end.

4. All Religious, whiles they renounce the world, begin to follow me, but many thinking themſelues not to ſtand in any need of my conduct, leaue and forſake me, not to any hurt of myne, but their own. It is not inough to haue begon. If there ſhould be no difficultyes, but in the entrance into the way, they might haue ſome cauſe of excuſing themſelues, but ſeeing the ſame to be dangerous all the way, and in the whole courſe of their iourney, they muſt not leaue their conductour. He, that not knowing the way contemneth a guide, manifeſteth that he maketh little reckoning of his going aſtray.

5. In the world I adminiſter, and gouerne all: by me Kinges raigne, and Princes commaund: by me the Law-makers determine what is iuſt, and the Iudges do iuſtice. And where I haue commaunded obedience to be giuen to temporal Lords, whoſoeuer reſiſteth their commaund, reſiſteth me, and my ordination. The ſame is done in the ſhip of Religion, wherein I am the chief Maiſter, and Pilot: I direct it, and bring it ſafe into the harbour: I aſſigne euery martyner his office and charge, and to whome they and others muſt be obedient. And wheras I am in euery one of them, and determine what euery ſubiect is to do, to obey them is nothing els, then to obey me, and to contemne them, is to contemne me.

6. All Religious be indeed in a ſhip, but all haue not good ſpeed and ſucceſſe in their nauigation. He that ſuffereth himſelfe to be gouerned, ſayleth on without danger, and hath not any cauſe to be troubled or afraid, and therfore, as the common ſaying is, goeth his iourney ſleeping. But he, who ſuffereth not himſelfe willingly to be gouerned, ſtayeth not within the ſhip, one while grieued that he entred into the ſhip, an otherwhile wiſhing to leape a ſhoare, and out of a diſcontent and puſill animity of mind he taketh no pleaſure of any thing at all. And whence cometh this? becauſe his deſire is, that the ſhip ſhould be directed, as himſelfe liketh beſt. And this is to haue a will to gouerne, and not to be gouerned. Woe to that Religion which accomodateth it ſelfe to the propenſion, and will of euery ſubiect. Who paſſeth in a ſhip from one place to another, muſt accommodate himſelfe therto, and not contrary wiſe. It were no good trauayling, neither would the ſhip euer get into the hauen, if the nauigation ſhould be directed as euery one liſted. That Religious man cannot liue in peace, who refuſeth to do the will & commaund of another.

7. Doeſt thou long to know what Obedience is? It is nothing els, then a Burying. Wilt thou vnderſtand, wherein it conſiſteth to obey? It conſiſteth in the buryall of the owne will. O happy is that Religious perſon, who can truely ſay, and affirme: Now I haue buried myne owne will, and vnwillingnes: Now haue I ſatisfyed the liberty of myne owne will, becauſe he hath caſt off whatſoeuer might haue hindred his entrance into heauen. None can take vp his croſſe and follow me, vnles he ſhall firſt haue buryed his owne will, and denyed himſelfe. A Religious man, retayning his owne will, and doing as he liſt, is not dead to the world, and therfore appertayneth not to Religion, which is but one, and ought to be gouerned by one will, namely of the Superiour, and all the reſt of the wills of the ſubiects muſt be buryed: if they be not, as a body, that lyeth vnburyed, they will yield forth an intolerable bad ſent.

8. Tell me, I pray thee, my Sonne, if a man ſhould without any cauſe, induced by his own will and pleaſure alone, take vp a body, that had beene ſome monethes ago buryed, would it not ſtrike an exceeding great horrour into all that ſhould ſee it, & cauſe them to laugh at his folly, & madnes? And what other thing is it, not to obey the Conſtitutions of the Order, or the Superiours commaund, then to take vp againe thyne owne will, and nill, that were before buryed, both which bodyes thou buriedſt at thy entring into Religion, with a firme purpoſe neuer to vnbury them, or to take them out of the ground againe? Thinkeſt thou to be excuſed before me, while, thou now calleſt them, I can, and I cannot? That I cannot, which thou haſt ſayd to thy Superiour, thou didſt not ſay to me. I know, what euery one is able to do, or not able. I ſee alſo what a Religious man hath in his mouth, and what he carryeth in his hart. And I know againe, when not to be able, is not to haue a will for the ſhunning of ſome incōmodity, or paynes taking. And though the Superiour accepteth of his ſubiects falſe excuſe, neither examineth, whether he be truely able to do the thing, or no, that is commaunded, yet he hath no cauſe to be therefore glad. For the whole matter conſiſteth not in that alone, it will at ſome other time be examined at my tribunal, wher the laſt ſentence ſhall be pronounced, that will admit no hope of any future appeale. For men in cenſuring and diſtinguiſhing the truth of the thing, may be deceiued, but God cannot, who hath a perfect knowledge of all things, both within, and without.

SONNE, thou canſt not be ignorant, what was the end of thy firſt father Adam and of his diſobedience, namely, that not only himſelfe was exiled and baniſhed out of the terreſtriall Paradiſe, but he was further togeather with his whole poſterity made thrall & ſubiect to malediction. The labours on earth, the ſweating in procuring bread to eate, the paynes of women trauayling with child, and all other miſeryes, wherewith man kind is afflicted, be the puniſhments and maledictions of diſobedience, which becauſe it is the daughter of Pride, can yeald forth no other fruite, then it doth. Thou knoweſt alſo what followed of the Obedience of Abraham, that not only himſelfe, and all his family, but al the nations of the world alſo be bleſſed in his ſeed, of which was to be borne one, who by his obedience ſhould ſet open the gates of heauen, that were by diſobedience ſhut vp before: in ſo much as it may be truly ſayd, that all celeſtiall gifts, and all graces & vertues be the effects, and benedictions of Obedience.

2. Againe, if Obedience, accompayned with my expreſſe commaundment, which ſeemeth in a manner to force man to do what I commaund, be ſo gratefull and pleaſing to me, as I abundantly reward it; how much more acceptable ought Religious Obedience to be, in regard whereof a man of himſelfe moued not by the cōmaund of any, but for the ſincere loue of God, though the contrary propenſion of his nature repugne, bindeth himſelfe to performe my coū ſayles? And where I know right well, that man is borne to high matters, and is propenſe to deſigne & vndergo heroical actiōs, yet when I ſee him for loue of me to abaſe himſelfe, according to the iudgment of the world, to vile and contemptible functions (though in my ſight they be honorable and excellent) when againe I ſee him not to ſeek glory and applauſe of men, but rather the contempt of himſelfe: when I ſee, that he ſpoyleth himſelfe of his owne will, which is the fountaine and beginning of all generous workes, by which a man may merit greateſt honours before the world: & when I ſee, that to pleaſe me, he ſubiecteth himſelfe to another man, his equall by nature, and oftentymes in Religion alſo to them, ouer whome he had authority and a commaund in the world; how, I ſay, can it poſſibly be, that I ſhould not be moſt inwardly affected to the Obedient? And that ſuch Obedience ſhould not be moſt pleaſing to me, that exciteth the Religious to do ſo great matters for the loue of me? How ſhould I not rayſe them to greateſt dignityes, who that they might obey for loue of me, abaſed themſelues ſo farre, euen againſt the inclination of nature? He can neuer receiue any loſſe, who doth much for God.

3. Obedience alſo pleaſeth me, becauſe it maketh the ſubiects tractable, prompt, and ready at euery beck of the Superiour: and nothing comforteth and helpeth the Superiours ſo much, as to haue tractable ſubiects. O how do I like that Religious man, who doth with ioy and alacrity go about the doing of whatſoeuer his Superiour ſhall haue commaunded him, & if he ſhould be againe by his Superiour willed to ceaſe from the worke he had begon, he leaueth it as gladly, and executeth as readily any new worke, that ſhall be commaunded him. On the contrary nothing troubleth, and afflicteth the Superiour more, and cauſeth him more to groane vnder the weight of his gouernment & office, then to haue ſubiects ſtubborne, ſlacke, & hard to obey. An vntractable beaſt doth not eaſily ſuffer burdens to be layd vpon his backe, and after they haue byn with much payne layd vpō him, he either throweth them downe, or carryeth them with ſo ill a will, as a great care muſt be vſed, leaſt he caſt them downe at length. A Superiour, that hath hard, froward and ſtubborne ſubiects, cannot be confident in them, and therfore if any thing though neuer ſo little, be to be commaunded them, there needeth more circumſpection, then if a man were to deale with an vnruly beaſt.

4. Hence it is, that where the ſubiect ſhould other wiſe reſpect, reuerence & feare his Superiour, through the default of diſobience the quite contrary is done, that is, the Superiour feareth the ſubiect, whome, leaſt he ſhould giue him an occaſion of leauing his order, with the offence & ſcandall of others, he leaueth to his owne will, neither commaunding him any thing, nor reprouing him. O miſery to be lamented! In the world he liued as he liſted, not at anothers charge, but at his own: but in Religion he hath a will to liue at his own pleaſure, and with my coſt, and my bloud, which as it cannot be done without iniuſtice, ſo neither can it go vnpuniſhed. Wherfore ſhould I not hate diſobedience, which is ſo iniurious to Religion? Why ſhould not the diſobedient diſpleaſe me, who be the ruine of their Religion? This is not the ſtate of the obedient. For the Superiour liueth with the obediēt ſecurely, without diſtruſt, without ceremonyes, he is confident in thē, and if he commaund thē any thing, though very hard, they moſt readily do it. He obeyeth without difficulty, who imbraceth all commaunds without any excuſe: but he, who forced, yealdeth to the Superiours cō maundment, either doth it not at all, or doth it ill. He indeed retayneth the rynd, that is, the externall act of his labour, but he looſeth the kernell, that is, the fruit of the merit of obedience.

5. Moreouer I adde, that Religious Obedience pleaſeth me alſo for this, that it comprehendeth many other vertues in it ſelfe, and exerciſeth their actions. For when the Religious mā for obedience ſake ſubiecteth himſelfe to others his equalls, or inferiours, he exerciſeth the vertue of Humility. If the Superiours commaundement that he doth be hard, he exerciſeth the vertue of Fortitude, becauſe he ouercometh the difficulty. If it be repugnant to the ſenſe, or to his owne nature, he exerciſeth Patience, becauſe be exerciſeth what he is auerted from. If he obey for loue of me, he exerciſeth Charity: & ſo Obedience maketh the Religious mā like vnto me, becauſe my obedience had the company of theſe vertues. And ſeeing ſimilitude is the cauſe of loue and beneuolence, it manifeſtly followeth, that all obedient perſons be moſt inwardly conioyned with me: and the more vertues go in company with odedience, the more doth the obedient merit.

6. Sonne, the gift is the more accepted to him, to whom it is giuen: the more noble the thing is, in like manner it is the more pleaſing, when excluding all the vtility of the giuer, it is only an argument and teſtimony of the giuers inward beneuolence & good will. Wherefore ſeeing Obedience is the gift of a mans liberty, then which a religious man hath nothing more noble, or more excellent; it cannot but be to me moſt deare, and ſo much the more, for that to the offering of this gift he was not moued vpō any human reſpect, nor for the vanity of the world, but for the only loue of me. Though this alſo maketh the giuer acceptable to me, that for ſuch a gift beſtowed vpon me, he remayneth not poore or imperfect, for that the more a man giueth to God, the richer, and the perfecter he becometh.

7. Sonne, Religion is a deare and beloued vineyard to me, and the rules & conſtitutions of it be the branches of the vine, and as it were trees planted therein by me, not without my paine. The worke-men be • hoſe, whome I call out of the world, & do • urniſh with ſundry tooles, and talents for he good husbanding of my vineyard. The • eeper of it is Obediēce, which apointeth • nto euery worke-man what he is to do. All do indeed enter into the vineyard, but • ll be not profitable vnto it. The Religious who take paynes in husbanding the trees • nd vines, that is, obey my lawes and ordinations, be moſt pleaſing vnto me, and I haue appointed them a ſingular hire, becauſe they on their part do maintaine and defend Religion. But the diſobedient, who ſpoyle my vineyard, cannot haue a mery or pleaſing looke from me. For what is it els to forgoe and tranſgreſſe the rule, but to cut off ſome vine, or to transplant it to ſome other place? And what is this, but to diſſolue and ouerthrow Religion? Wherefore as much as diſobedience diſpleaſeth me, which ouerthroweth Religion, ſo much Obedience contenteth me, which ſetteth it forth, preſerueth, and increaſeth it.

SONNE, haſt thou at any time conſidered this ſaying of my ſcripture: A man obedient ſpeaketh of victories. Know thou that there cannot either a greater, or mo •• wonderfull victory be in this world obtayned, then that of ones ſelfe. Enemyes ma • be ouercome by ſtratagems, and frauds, an • though they be ouercome by might & for • of armes, yet they are ouercome who 〈◊〉 inferiors, or be at leaſt in fight become inferiors. But in the victory of ones ſelfe, th • victory is not obtayned by art, or fraud, b • by vertue, and he is ouercome who is equa • and euer remayneth equall. In other victoryes the higher the vanquiſher is raiſed, th • more is the vanquiſhed and ouercome depreſſed and humbled, but in the victory of ones ſelf the vāquiſhed hath as high a place, as hath the ouercōmer. In other encounters and fights enemyes are ouercome, and therein paſſeth hatred, ire, and indignation, but he that ouercometh himſelfe, ouercometh one, to whome he is moſt conioyned in loue and freindſhip. And this difficulty maketh the victory the more glorious. Such is the victory of the obedient, for that whil • he doth voluntarily ſubiect himſelfe to anothers commaund, he ouercometh himſelfe. And this victory is ſo much the more noble & glorious, with how much the more difficulty, namely againſt nature, it is obtayned. And in this victory there are to be • ene many other victoryes. For an obedi • nt Religious man maketh the ſenſes, appe • tes, add paſſions to be at reaſons cōmaund, • nd reaſon it ſelfe againe togeather with her • wne iudgment to be ſubiect to the will & • udgment of the Superiour. And this alſo is • ot the leaſt victory to yield and deliuer vp • he honour of the triumph to another. He • hat in battaile turneth his backe and run • eth away, looſeth the victory; but in obe • ience he turneth his backe, who refuſeth to • ubmit himſelfe to another.

3. Againe, Obedience is ſo ſtout a war • iour, as it alſo fighteth for other vertues againſt all thoſe, that oppoſe themſelues againſt the Religious ſtate, and perfection. • f the concupiſcence make warre againſt Chaſtity, Obedience commeth forth, and cauſeth the will to deny conſent, and to remember the Vow that was formerly made of leading a chaſt life. If the deſire of temporal things inſult vpon Religious pouerty, Obedience riſeth vp againſt it, and perſwadeth pouerty to keep the promiſe of vſing no propriety in any thing. When the Diuel inciteth any to tranſgreſſion of the rules of Religion, Obedience, as a faithfull defender of Religion, is in armes and ſtoutly ſtandeth againſt him. As often as the perturbation of mind impugne reaſon, Obedience compoſeth them, and cauſeth euery particula • faculty of the mind to ſhew obedience where it ſhould. By all theſe moſt nobl • victoryes a coniecture may be made, ho • great an efficacy and glory is that of Obedience; and that a Religious man, as long a • he ſhall haue ſo noble a champion to defen • his quarrell, muſt needs fight with goo • ſucceſſe, and go away with many victoryes▪ The Generall of the warre, if he deſire to haue good ſouldiers, and to ouercome hi • enemyes, muſt haue a ſpeciall conſideration and regard of them, who fight manfully with the enemy.

4. After that the Diuell had by the ſin of diſobedience ſupplanted Adam, he began to make great reckoning of diſobedience, & vpon his flag, which he did ſet vp, and diſplay in ſigne of victory, framed this word, o • poeſy: Inobedience the daughter of Pride, the mother of death, the worlds ruine, and Religious bane and infection. By theſe he triumphed long. But I againe rayſed vp and diſplayed the Croſſes banner, wheron ending my life by obedience, I ouercame death and repayred the hurts by Adams diſobedience done to mankind. And therefore the • otte or poeſy of my banner is this: Obe • ience Humilityes daughter, Spiritual lifes • nother, the worlds Redreſſe, and Reli • ious Gouerneſſe. Of theſe commenda • ions, which be moſt true, thou mayſt vn • erſtand the excellency of Obedience. For • eeing it is humilityes daughter, whoſe pro • er office is to exalt the humble, it cannot • ut haue a part in the ſame property, as 〈◊〉 to be ſeene in me, to whome it gayned a • oſt happy victory ouer all myne enemyes, • ccompanyed alſo with a moſt glorious tri • mph. Sonne, none can continue ſtable and • erſeuere in Religion, vnles he fight. He • hat fighteth not vnder obediences colours, • uſt needs fight vnder diſobedience, which 〈◊〉 Sathans banner.

5. It is out of queſtion, that the excel • ency of the will, which is by a Religious • an offered and ſacrified to me by the Vow • f Obedience, addeth great force to the ſa • rifice, ſith the will is not only the nobleſt • art of man, but alſo the queene of al the fa • ultyes of the mind. And the dignity and worth of this ſacrifice increaſeth the more, • he more I eſteeme of it. And how could I • ot but highly eſteeme of Religious Obedi • nce, in which a Religious man offereth me • is liberty, which all the world maketh ſo great reckoning of? Is not this gift ſuch, 〈◊〉 it ſhould be held for great? For if I eſteem • greatly of Pouerty & Chaſtity, I am bound to make much more of Obedience. For Pouerty offereth me the externall goods only. Chaſtity for loue of me only depriueth the body of corporall pleaſures, which be the goods therof. But Obediēce offereth me the internall goods of mind, which by how much they excell the goods of fortune and of body, by ſo much the oblation of them is more excellent, and more acceptable to me.

6. It cannot be denyed, but that Abrahams obedience was moſt excellent, when at the firſt word I ſpake, he reſolued to ſacrifice vnto me his only and moſt louing ſonne Iſaac. Neither was Iſaac his obedience leſſe memorable, who to obey me in the perſon of his Father, ſuffered himſelfe to be bound, and out of a moſt noble courage & hart, in the flower of his youth offred his head to be cut from his ſhoulders. But I make no leſſ • reckoning of a good religious mans obedience, which comprehendeth in it the perfection of the obedience of them both. O • Abraham indeed, becauſe a Religious man doth loue himſelfe as well, as did Abraham his ſonne: and of his ſonne, becauſe a Religious man out of as great a fortitude of mind bindeth himſelfe by Vow of Obedience, as did Iſaac ſuffer himſelfe to be faſt bound by his father. Neither doth he with leſſe promptitude offer his owne will to be cut off by the ſword of ſpirituall Vow, then did Iſaac his necke by the materiall ſword. Moreouer by the difference between Abrahams and a Religious mans obedience, it appeareth, that this is to be preferred before that. For in that, a cōmaundment was layd vpon Abraham, in this it was but counſaile: that was only in will, this both in will and fact: his act endured but for a ſhort ſpace, this mans fact for his whole life.

7. Sonne, wilt thou go beyond Abrahams obedience? Seeke prompt obedience • in all things, for that God is no leſſe pleaſed with Obedience in little matters, then in great. Further certayne it is, that no worke though by the iudgment of the world it be thought honorable, is of any accompt with me, if it hath not a conformity with the diuine will. Let a man diſpoſe all his goods for the behoof of the poore: Let him ſuffer perſecutions, and be contemned: Let him dy for the fayth; if theſe and the like workes be not done according to my will, they are neither pleaſing to me, nor meritorious at all. But the vertue of Obedience, as alſo of Charity her ſiſter, cauſeth a Religious man to conforme his works to Gods will, and conſequently maketh them meritorious. Adde, that a creature indewed with reaſon, is then ſaid to be perfect, when it repoſeth in the diuine wil, neither hath a will to any thing, but what the Creatour hath a wil to. And by what other vertue is the Religious man made prompt to obey Gods will, then by Obedience? Who forceth a Religious man to haue a will neither leſſe, nor more then his Creatour in whom conſiſteth true perfection, but Obedience? O if all Religious men were ſo harty louers of Obedience, as the excellency threof deſerueth, it would be much more reckoned of in Religions then now it is, and there would be great ſtore of perfect Religious perſons.

LORD, though a Religious man receiueth many, and very excellent vtilitie • by Obedience, yet I would thinke it much better, if thou thy ſelfe without the help of other Superiours, wouldſt commaund, & ordayne all: for we would in a moſt prōp • manner obey thee, neither would there be • ny place left for murmurations, neither wouldſt thou euer giue any occaſion of • omplaints; and in few wordes, thy gouer • ing would be moſt ſweet. And if that • ay ſeeme not to haue beene conuenient, • et thou mighteſt haue done well, if thou • houldeſt gouerne vs by an Angell, who as • e ſhould be of more credit, and authority with vs, ſo would we more reuerence him, • hen men.

2. Sonne, all this that thou ſayſt, ſpringeth out of the fountaine of ſelfe loue. If Religious men were ſpirits, it would be • onuenient that they ſhould be gouerned • ither by me, or by ſome Angell, but be • auſe they be compoſed of a body, and a ſpi • it, it is very agreable that they be gouerned • y a man, their like; and the ſame requireth • he ſweet prouidence, wherby the whole frame of this world is gouerned. When I • rought the world to the true fayth, I ſent • ot Angells, but men, & for men I gouerne • t. I did alſo found Religions, not by Angells, but by men, and therfore fitting it is, • hey ſhould be gouerned by them. If heere • n Angell were a Superiour, how often • ould theſe, or the like wordes proceed • rom mens mouths? If this Angell our Superiour, had experience of the troubles o • the fleſh, the burdens of body, and the miſeryes of this life, as we haue, he would take more compaſſion on vs, then he doth How many excuſes would not take plac • with an Angell, which now haue plac • with a man, Superiour? How many ſcruples would Religious men haue, if they ſhould be gouerned by an inuiſible Superiour? And more then this, euery Superiou • ought to help his ſubiects rather by example of life, then by word of mouth; but if the Superiour ſhould be inuiſible, he could not giue any ſuch example for imitation: and therefore better it is, that the Superiour be an Angell rather in conditions & manners, then by nature. And where it is ſayd, th • the Superiour, if he ſhould be an Angell ſhould be more loued and reſpected by hi • ſubiects, then if he were a mortall man, i • not true. For whereas I am in the Superiour, he that loueth not me, nor obeyeth m • in a man, my Vicegerent, would loue an • obey me leſſe in an Angell.

3. Call to thy remembrance, wh • my beloued diſciple Iohn wrote: If th • loueſt not thy neighbour (quoth he) who •• thou ſeeſt, how canſt thou loue God, who • thou ſeeſt not? If thou obeyeſt not the Superiour whome thou ſeeſt, how wilt thou obey thy Superiour whome thou ſeeſt not? But how great humility would it be to be ſubiect to an Angell? For whiles the Religious do for loue of me ſubiect thēſelus to a man, as to my ſubſtitute, and obey him, as they do me, it is an act not only of great Humility, but alſo of Fortitude, Magnanimity, Fayth, Hope, and Charity, ſo much the more pleaſing vnto me, the more vertues it goeth accompanyed with. He that • ubmitteth himſelfe to a man for my ſake, will leſſe ſubmit himſelfe to an Angell. It is my will, that a Religions man muſt do: And it little skilleth, whether it be declared by a man, or an Angell. A regard is not ſo much to be had of him who ſpeaketh, or commaundeth, as of him, in whoſe name he ſpeaketh, or commaundeth. Neceſſary it is that water runne into the garden, but • it skilleth not, whether it be brought in by conducts of lead, or of ſiluer.

4. Sonne, doſt thou now deſire to vnderſtand the vtilityes of Obedience? Te • l me, if one ſhould ride through daungerous rockes, and downefall places vpon a wild, and vnruly horſe, and one ſhould be ready to offer his help and paynes to lead his horſe by hand, through all thoſe ſo many dangers, 〈1 page duplicate〉 〈1 page duplicate〉 would he not thinke that a ſpeciall benefit were offered to him? No doubt, he would eſteeme it a moſt great one. And if he ſhould refuſe to vſe ſo great a benefit, ſhould he not ſhew himſelf a very mad man? Our body, vntamed in regard of the diſordred paſſions, that raigne in it, is this vnruly horſe. The errors that are wont in the ſpiritituall life to be committed, be thoſe downefalls and cragged ockes. Our Superiour is he, who is read • o guide and lead our horſes, that we fall not 〈◊〉 •• ke then how great the madnes of that Religious man ſhould be, who ſhould refuſe in ſo great dangers to be gouerned by his Superiour? For them, that want the skill of ſwymming, it is good to reſt vpon others mens armes. A Religious man, who obeyeth, and permitteth himſelfe to be gouerned of another, ſwimmeth in his Superiours armes, and ſwimmeth ſecurely in the waues of ſpirituall daungers.

5. Another vtility is, that Obedience freeth a religious man from an infinit number of moleſtations and troubles. Nothing tormenteth a man ſo much, as do the anxious cogitations of mind, of which the miſerable man, who lyueth in the world, is meruaylouſly rent and gnawne, as is the viper by her yong ones, which ſhe carrieth in her belly. And though he hath not care of family, or of the adminiſtration of the goods of Fortune, yet the very thinking vpon his owne affayres and actions is too comberſome. For he muſt not only conſider, what is to be done, but alſo when, how, and by what meanes. And this loathing, and croſſe is againe increaſed by the ouermuch ſollicitude about the good ending and ſucceſſe of the things that are to be done.

But all this is nothing, & nothing worth, if it be compared with the cogitations of ſpirituall actions. For thoſe, that they may be pleaſing, muſt be conforme to my will, and if they be not done with Charity, and diſcretion, I make no reckoning of them. And Obedience exempteth a Religious man from thoſe and all other cares, and cogitations, commending this one thing alone, that he obey, and lay all the reſt vpon his Superiours ſhoulders, whoſe charg it is to ſee, what, when, how, and by what wayes euery thing is to be done. It is in him to procure all things neceſſary both for the ſpirituall, and temporall: for he is the Father, the mother, maiſter, prouider, directour, guide, and all. What other thing then is it to liue vnder obedience, then to caſt his burden vpon anothers backe? If you were entred into a wide wood, that almoſt had no way out, and dangerous for the cruell wild beaſts therein, and were further very ſore loaden, ſhould not he do you a ſingular pleaſure, who ſhould not only bring you ſafe out of the wood, but alſo eaſe you of your burden, by taking it vpon his owne ſhoulders? And what other thing is it to obey, thē to trauayle the more ſecurely with a guide in the way, & without any burden to beare? He that acknowledgeth not a benefit, neither regardeth, nor maketh reckoning whence it commeth, or who is the authour therof.

7. There is added another vtility of Obediēce, that the things which be good of themſelues, it maketh more excellent; and what is of very little worth, it cauſeth to be had in greater eſteeme. He that moued by Gods grace, doth of a free will exerciſe a good worke, doth well, and meriteth a reward according to the greatnes of the work and his pious affection withall: but he that doth of Obedience exerciſe the ſame workes, out of the ſame diſpoſition of mind that the other did, meriteth much more by occaſion of the vertue, & efficacy, which the vertue of Obedience addeth to that worke. And more then that, Obedience is ſo fruitfull, and of ſuch power, as it maketh the works that are of neceſſity, more noble alſo, and thoſe that of themſelues are not praiſe worthy, as be the actions of eating, drinking, ſleeping, walking &c. if the Religious do them by obedience, pleaſing vnto me, which I alſo reward according to the meaſure of the pious affection & Charity they be done withall. And it ſometimes hapneth, that the Obedient without doing any worke, maketh more ſpirituall gaine, then he who doth the worke.

8. The Religious, who hath a deſire to faſt for the puniſhing of his fleſh, for his ſinnes, and yet for Obedience ſake forbeareth to faſt, meriteth more before God by not faſting, then doth another faſting of deuotion. For this man hath the only merit of his faſting: but that man hath merited not only the good of faſting, becauſe he was of his part ready to do it, but alſo the merit of Obedience. Iudge thou now, whether that be not a priuiledg, both profitable & healthfull, which I haue conferred & beſtowed vpon the Religious, by the benefit of Obedience. And how am I affected, thinkeſt thou, vnto them, who are ſo little deuoted to obedience? O what a detriment and loſſe ſuſtayneth that man in his ſpirituall goods, who doth all of his owne will that he might do by obedience. Euery good worke, great or little, if it be ſigned with the ſeale of Obedience, is of great eſteeme and price, as well in heauen, as in earth.

SONNE, if thou be reſolued with thy elſe to imitate me, neceſſary it is, that thou haue an earneſt deſire to imbrace the vertue of Obedience, and make thy ſelfe fit for the performing of perfect obedience. Remember that I aſſumed, & tooke vpon me the forme of a ſeruant, that I might ſubiect my ſelfe to men, and obey them for thy ſoules good. Neither did I propoſe alone, and openly profeſſe, that I was come not to do myne owne will, but the will of my Father who ſent me; but I began alſo very tymely to obey the precepts of his law, whereunto I was not yet bound, neither might I be drawn from the obſeruation of thē either by ſhame or confuſion, or for any daunger of life. And as my diſciple and Euangeliſt Iohn wrote, I called Obedience, my Meate. And not without cauſe, ſith there was not any thing in this life, wherein I tooke ſo great a pleaſure, as in doing of my heauenly Fathers will, in ſo much as whatſoeuer hapned bitter or ſower, became to me ſweet thereby. For this cauſe the Chalice of my paſſion, which was to my humanity moſt bitter, was moſt readily accepted of my ſpirit, as a moſt ſweet cup, becauſe it was offered me with the band of Obedience by my Father. What Religious man then can with reaſon refuſe obedience which was meate to me? It is an ill ſigne when the Lords & Maiſters meate cannot content the ſeruant.

2. But what can it be, Sonne, that pleaſeth thee not in Obedience? It is, becauſe thou ſeeſt thy ſelfe in ſubiection to a man? or that thou art aſhamed to be commaunded by another? I am the Lord of this vniuerſe, I am the wiſedome of my heauenly father, and yet was I in ſubiection to men; neither that, by the way alone, or for a few tymes, but euen from the tyme of my comming into the world, vntill my moſt ignominious death vpon the Croſſe. Neither obayed I the good and iuſt alone, as my Mother, and Ioſeph my foſterfather, but the vniuſt and wicked Iudges alſo, as Annas, Caiphas, Herode, and Pilate, who though they knew me to be vniuſtly accuſed, nor that any thing of that which they wickedly obiected, could be proued againſt me, did neuertheleſſe condemne me to be crowned with thornes, to be whipped, and to the Croſſe it ſelfe; all which I tolerated with patience, without making of any appeale, or vſing any Apology for my ſelfe: & more then that without ſpeaking any word at al. I alſo obeyed their peruerſe ſeruants, who did without cauſe buffet me, ſpit vpon my face, and moſt ignominiouſly dragged me vp and downe through the publike ſtreets. And of all this I complayned not, & though I might haue reuenged my ſelfe, and might moſt iuſtly haue puniſhed thē for the moſt extreme iniury that was done vnto me, yet I did forbeare, and did readily do all that they commaunded me. Tell me now, whether it be yet any hard and painefull matter for thee to obey? Thou art not for Obedience bound faſt to a piller, & there whipt as I was. Thou ſtandeſt not with thy hands bound at thy backe, and with a rope put about thy necke, drawne and haled through the ſtreets of the Citty, as I did, and was.

3. Can it be poſſible, that thou ſhouldſt be aſhamed to obey in good things, that redound to thy glory and merit, when as thy Lord obeyed in ill things, that made to his reproach, torments, and ignominy? Reaſon now, and conſider with thy ſelfe, whether it be more conuenient promptly to obey the commaund • of Superiours, or to refuſe, if any thing be commaunded little pleaſing thyne owne appetite. And though it be an eaſy matter to do, yet the enemy will cauſe it to ſeeme hard and paynefull, that thou mayſt either not obey at all, or that thou looſe the merit of Obedience. Thy parents Adam and Eue may be produced for an example, to whom when as God had giuen a cōmaundmēt to abſtaine from the fruit but of one tree only in paradiſe, which was not any ſore or hard commaundment, ſith there were many other fruite-bearing trees in place, the crafty enemy of mākind wrought ſo in their minds, as it might ſeeme an ouer hard commaundement, and thereby the more eaſily draw them to tranſgreſſe it. It ought not to ſeeme hard vnto the ſeruant to go on that way, which his Lord & Maiſter went before him with much more difficulty and daunger: and though the way ſhould be dangerous, ſo it be not impoſſible to paſſe, yet meet it is, that he go through.

4. Sonne, as long as the bird is looſe, and vpon her winges in the fields, ſhe doth what ſhe liſt, but when ſhe is caught, and put in a cage, ſhe doth as it pleaſeth the owner. When thou wert in the world, thou liuedſt, as thou liſtedſt, thou didſt eate at pleaſure, thou didſt whatſoeuer pleaſed thee, becauſe thou wert thyne owne ſuperiour, which was then conuenient for thee, ſith in the world all make profeſſion to do and gouerne themſelues as they pleaſe, and after their owne manner. But when thou renouncedſt the world, thou didſt chooſe to thy ſelfe another Superiour, who might ſupply my place, and thou madeſt profeſſiō of directing thy life, not after thyne owne will and iudgment, but after anothers. He therefore, who beeing in religion continueth to liue after his owne manner, as he did in the world, declareth that he is not yet gone out of the world to religion, or ſheweth himſelfe to be a Religious man indeed in outward habit, who inwardly is a man of the world, or rather neither the one nor the other. Where Obedience is not, there neither Religion can vſe it owne name, becauſe they cannot long continue ſubiects, ſith they be not conioyned with the head.

5. The chiefeſt bulwarke and defence of a Citty, is the concord, and vnion of the cittizens: ſo the vnion and coniunction of the ſubiects with the Superiour their head, which obedience cauſeth, is the ſafety of religion. Where Obedience is, there is conſent, and conſent conſerueth and ſtrengthneth euery congregation, though there be many in it. My Apoſtles were in number few, abiect, and contemptible in ſight of the world, yet did they great matters, becauſe they were concordant, and ſo obſequious to me their Superiour, as that they might not forgoe their Obedience, they choſe to looſe their liues. Therfore he that neglecteth to obey euen in ſmall matters, knoweth not the worth of obiedience, as the Apoſtles, and their Maiſter did, who were more ready to looſe life, then to leaue Obedienc • .

6. In the warfare of the world, the Obedience of the ſouldiers towards their Generalls and Captaynes is ſo ſtrict, and ſo ſtraitely obſerued, as they be hanged for the very leaſt diſobedience; and yet thoſe that ſerue in the wars, make no Vow of Obediēce at al, but only promiſe vpon their oath to fight againſt the enemy, and to defend, and maintayne the Citty, or ſtrong hold againſt him. If then the temporall warrefare requireth ſo exact Obedience, neither permitteth any the leaſt diſobedience in tryfling matters to paſſe vnpuniſhed; how great, vpon iuſt cauſe, ſhould the ſpirituall and Religious warfare exact, whereinto none is admitted, vnles he bind himſelfe vnto Obedience by a ſollemne Vow? And how may any diſobedience be tolerated in it, ſith it is ſo proper in this warfare to obey the Superiors, as if obedience be wanting, the ſpirituall warrefare muſt needs come to decay.

7. There be ſome who indeed refuſe not a Superiour, but they would not haue any thing commaunded them by him, eſpecially if it be hard, and troubleſome. This is not the deſire of a good, and true Religious man, labouring to perfection; but only to be willing to ſeeme Religious in name, and not indeed, and to wiſh that the Superiour were a Statua or Image, & not a liuing man. Others would haue a Superiour induſtrious and diligent in procuring neceſſaryes, appertayning to meate, drinke, cloathing, and like commodityes, and in all euents to take a ſpecial care in patronizing defending, and helping them: but they wiſ • him not to be ſo vigilant in obſeruation o • Religious diſcipline, which dependeth o • Obedience. And this deſire is much worſe then the former: for to wiſh this, is nothing els then to haue a will and deſire, tha • the Superiour make his ſubiects, not good Religious, but idle and ſlouthfull, who may haue care of their bodyes, and neglect to direct their ſoules in the way of ſpirit; who may be a good companion, and a bad Superiour. The ſubiect who hath a deſire, that his Superiour ſhould not performe the office of a good Superiour, doth manifeſtly declare, that he carryeth himſelfe not for a good ſubiect vnder him.

SONNE, thou muſt not thinke, thou haſt done much, if thou ſhalt at any tyme haue done what thy Superiour hath commaunded thee: for this is the very loweſt degree of Obedience, and common to all kind of ſubiects, whether ſeruants or bond-ſlaues: yea it is found in the very brute beaſts, which go whither ſoeuer their keeper driueth them, and do whatſoeuer he pleaſeth who hath care of thē. He is a poore & miſerable religious man, who whiles he obeyeth not his Superiours will, doth leſſe then the brute beaſts. And though this firſt degree of Obedience, which conſiſteth in the execution of that which is commaunded, be of it ſelfe the loweſt, yet if it be kept as it ſhould be, it is very pleaſing vnto me. Foure conditions and qualityes made my Obedience, that I performed to my Heauenly Father, the more gratefull, and theſe be, Promptitude, Entireneſſe in all points, Fortitude, and Perſeuerance. Theſe make a Religious mans Obedience acceptable, and the more eaſy be they, the greater the will is of imitating me.

2. Not to obey with promptitude and ſpeede, is a defect, and nothing pleaſeth me. If it grow of a cold & languiſhing will it is the more diſpleaſing vnto me, becauſe the effect is bad, and the cauſe worſe. He that hath tyme to do what Obedience cō maundeth and putteth it off, ſuffereth the loſſe of tyme, and putteth himſelfe in danger of not doing what he ſhould. And if the Religious differeth to obey, becauſe he is buſied in ſome particular matter of his owne, he diſpleaſeth me more, becauſe he preferreth himſelfe, and his owne buſines before the buſines of his Superiour. The truly obedient, that he may obey perfectly, leaueth his buſines begon, and vnperfect. O how much do thoſe Religious pleaſe me, who if but a ſigne be giuen to do any thing that the holy Rule, or Superiour ſhall appoint, do leaue off euen pious works, they haue in hand, and come running to what is commaunded. And they gaine my ſingular fauour, who to do any act of Obedience interrupt the talke they haue begon with me in prayer.

3. Conſider thou now, how litle thoſe are in my grace, who blinded with ſelfe-loue, leaſt they ſhould be depriued of any their leaſt commodityes or recreations, be dull and ſlow in accompliſhing the worke that is appointed them by the Superiour. And I am offended more, if they v • e the ſame delay, when t e b • ll g •• t • a • e to prayer, or other ſpirituall exerciſes. O now much do ſuch manner of men 〈◊〉 themſelues, and the Commaun t • alſo, eſpec •• lly ſeeing that when they are called to thinges commodious for their body, as to meate, drinke, recreations &c. they vſe no delay at all, but be diligent, prompt and ready. Certs, it were better for them neuer to ſhew themſelues abroad: for where there occurreth not any iuſt cau • e of purging them, there is a manifeſt offence & ſcandal giuen. Thoſe that be condemned as ſlaues to the Gallyes for their crymes, be ſo ready to obey, as that a ſigne is no ſooner giuen, then the thing is done and diſpatched: and they are ſo quicke and ſpeedy in execution therof as whiles the thing is yet in doing they cry alowd, That it is diſpatched. And though they be ſo diligent and quicke for feare of blowes, yet the loue of God ſhould make the Religious more prompt in this kind, ſith loue is more ſtrong, and more effectuall then feare.

4. Neither is this to be ſeene in the Gallyes alone, where a man ſhall ſee the chaines, and the marriners with whips in their hands, but alſo in the Courts of great Lords. For I aske of thee, what is it that maketh the ſeruants ſo ready and quicke at the very voyce, and call of their Lords? Is it the hope of reward? But that is more liberall with me. Is it the loue they beare towards their Lord? But much greater loue is due to me: for goodnes and bounty, which is the cauſe of loue, is farre more excellent in me, and the reward which is expected from me, is without cōpariſon greater. Indeed the ſlowneſſe of the Religious proceedeth of the want of loue. If the ſubiects were better affected to their Superiour they would alſo be more diligent in fullfilling of Obedience. In which kind the children of this world be more wiſe, and more ready, then the children of light.

5. Another condition is, that Obedience be intiere: for ſuch was my owne Obedience. It ſhall be inough for Religious men to loue this entierneſſe, if they throughly vnderſtand, that this is my will, and ſuch the Superiours intention, that what is commaunded be entierly done. There be thoſe, who be only ready to obey in matters of great moment, but not in little. To others it ſeemeth inough, if they do part of the things by the Superiour commaunded, and leaue the reſt vndone. I know not who hath made them Iudges, or Interpreters of Obedience. Neither do I know, whence they haue learned, that it is not neceſſary to obey to all that the Superiour decreeth or commaundeth.

6. Let them ſay, when they vowed Obediēce, whether they thought they were to obey in all things, or but in ſome? Whether they vnderſtood, that they were allwayes to obey, or only for a tyme? And if they vnderſtood, that they were to obey not in all thinges, but for a certaine tyme only, who will accept of ſuch a vow? Surely I accepted not the vow of half, and mayned Obedience, but of that which is entiere and whole. If ſome ſeruant ſhould do but part of thoſe things that were commaūded him by his maiſter. when he could haue done the whole, he ſhould not be kept long in the houſe, and though he were ſtill kept, yet in giuing vp his accompts it would ſoon appeare, whether one did owe any thing to the other, the ſeruant to the maiſter, or the maiſter to the ſeruant. He is not worthy of reward, but of puniſhment, who ſerueth not at the will of his maiſter. Many liue in Religion, with whome an accompt ſhall in the end be taken, and then it will be vnderſtood, whether they merit reward or puniſhment, who haue not performed the whole and entier Obedience.

7. The third condition is, that obedience be done with Fortitude. The Religious man pleaſeth me not, who manifeſteth a fortitude of mind in obeying, when eaſy matters are commaunded, or obeyeth willingly whiles matters go well with him, & the Superiour commaundeth thoſe things that be contenting vnto him. This is not true Fortitude, nor can a ſtout obedient perſon be well by this way tryed. Whiles a faire gale of wind bloweth, euery ſhip ſayleth away merrily: and an infirme and weake man walketh in a plaine way. The Fortitude of an obedient perſon is found and diſcouered in painefull & hard things, as when incommodityes, labours & paynes be to be endured; when preſent afflictions of body keep him not from doing the acts of Obedience; when the courage getteth ſtrength in ouercoming of difficultyes.

8. O how imprudently doeſt thou, my Sonne, whiles to the end nothing may be often commaunded thee, thou ſhe • eſt thy ſelfe vntoward in performing Obedience, deceiued with this opinion, that he is wont to be ſurcharged with many labours, and offices, who manifeſteth his own promptitude, and facility in obeying. For what other thing is this, then to condemne the Superiour of indiſcretion, and imprudency? Then to put away a moſt rich crowne from himſelfe? If I giue thee health and ſtrength of body for the taking of paynes, wherefore art thou ſo afraid of labours? Art thou ignorant, that the more thy paynes be increaſed, the more is increaſed thy merit? Wherfore then ſuffereſt thou thy ſelfe to be ouercome of ſlouth & lazines? This is not Fortitude, but malicious careleſnes. I did not ſo, who, when I could haue brought thee to thy ſaluation by eaſy meanes, did neuertheleſſe chooſe the moſt difficult and hard for thy greater good, as was death in the flower of my youth: neither choſe I any manner of death, but that which was moſt ignominious and bitter, before which there went ſo many and ſo great torments, not only contumelious and diſgracefull, but alſo cruell.

9. The fourth condition is Perſeuerance, which if it be wanting, there is obtayned no Crowne at all, nor is there any merit of Obedience. I did runne the way of Obedience till death, contemning and remouing all difficultyes and impediments that encountred me on the way. My Apoſtles alſo perſeuered in the obſeruation of my precepts to the very end: and therefore he who by his inconſtancy either for ſome commodity of his owne, or for other humane reſpect, neglecteth to performe Obedience, is not a diſciple of myne. To begin Obedience, and after without iuſt cauſe not to execute it, is a property of children, not of Religious perſons.

SONNE, this third and higheſt degree of Obedience, appertayning to the Vnderſtanding requireth that a Religious man thinke and iudge that to be the beſt, which is determined and appoynted by his Superiour: yea, and it requireth that the ſubiect haue neither a contrary, not diff • rent iudgment from the Superiours iudgment. For the diuerſity of iudgments is the cauſe of diſquiet and trouble. The ſubiect, who in will only conſpireth with the Superiour, vpon t • e very leaſt occaſi n that may cauſe a difference of iudgmen s, may differ in iudgment from him; but he that is once conioyned b • th by will, & vnderſtanding vnto him, i • not ſo eaſily ſeparated in the one, or the other from him. For the vnderſtanding teacheth the will, that diuiſion is not conuenient, though ſometymes in the execution of Obedience all be not pleaſing to the ſubiects mind. But whiles by reaſon he approueth that to be well done, whatſoeuer is ordayned by the Superiour, he putteth the will in a quiet ſtate. This coniunction and conformity of iudgments alſo profiteth to the perfect execution of that which is commaunded. He that not only willeth that which the Superiour willeth, but alſo iudgeth that to be done, which the Superiour ſhall commaūd, obeyeth far more perfectly, then doth he, who in will alone imbraceth the Superiours commaundment. He that needeth ſpurrs, is more holpen with two then with one, and two cords do more ſtrongly bind then one.

2. Lord, I do not well conceiue, how the ſubiect may conforme his iudgment to his Superiours iudgment in all things, as he may conforme his will. For ſith the will is free, it may be bowed both wayes: but the vnderſtanding, that is drawne from the knowne truth, and is not free, cannot bend it ſe f, but that way wher the truth is: and therfore if the ſubiects vnderſtanding, conuinced by ſome reaſon, that repreſenteth a thing as true, conſent vnto it, and the Superiours vnderſtanding, conuinced by another different reaſon, inclyne another way in the ſame thing, how can the ſubiect in this matter conforme his owne iudgment to the iudgment of his Superiour, when it is not in his power to reuoke his vnderſtanding from the truth formerly knowne?

3. Sonne, what thou ſayſt, is true, when the truth is knowne; for then it ſo conuinceth the vnderſtanding, as it cannot be induced, or inclined to the contrary. But when euidency and certainty is wanting, the vnderſtanding, holpen by the will, may rather be inclined to one part, then to the other, and then the Obedient, that he erre not, ought to ſubmit his iudgment to the iudgment of his Superiour, ſo as that he may not erre in will, he ſubmitteth it alſo to the Superiours will. Neither yet, becauſe many ſubiects be of more ſharp witt, and of a more mature iudgment, then the Superiour is, be they therefore exempted from this ſubiection: for ſo long as they be members, they muſt be ſubiect to the head. But ſuppoſe, that thoſe ſubiects be more intelligent for knowledge of learning, yet in matter and manner of gouernement, God euer giueth greater light to the Superiour, then to the ſubiects, and therfore his iudgment muſt be preferred & take place before the iudgments of others, and greatly to be reckoned of, ſith I vſe him in the gouerning and conſeruing of Religious.

4. But admit, that the Superiour hath not commaūded ſomething aright, which yet is not accompanyed with ſinne, whether doth the ſubiect therefore erre therein, if he obey? In no caſe. Is he depriued of the merit of Obedience? Neither. Why thē ſhould he not ſubmit his iudgment in all thinges to the Superiour? When I was in ſubiection to my Mother, and to my foſter-father Ioſeph, I obeyed them both readily, euen in thoſe things, which I knew would fall out better, if they had beene done otherwiſe. It is not for the ſubiect to procure that, that may be beſt which is commaunded by the Superiour, but only to attend to this, that he execute in the beſt manner whatſoeuer ſhall be commaunded, & ſuffer the Superiour to appoint that which he himſelfe ſhall iudge and thinke to be beſt. Neither muſt the ſubiect forbeare the executing of the Superiours commaundment, though he be certaine, that he ſhould do better if he did not. For the ſubiect is not iudge, but only the putter of that in practiſe which is commaunded, ſo there be no ſin in doing it. This indeed is a defect of them who would that the Superiour ſhould ordayne what were beſt, but yet they wil not do it, though thēſelues be otherwiſe bound thereto.

5. That the Obedience of the Vnderſtanding is moſt pleaſing vnto me, is a matter out of all queſtion, ſith it giueth the laſt perfection to the ſacrifice that the Religious offereth, whiles togeather with the will he offereth both his Vnderſtanding and his owne iudgment, which is the nobleſt faculty of man. Moreouer it is knowne to all how vehement a propenſion nature it ſelfe hath put into man to the following of his owne iudgment, and yet a Religious man reſtrayneth this propenſion ſo far, as for loue of me he voluntarily ſubiecteth his own iudgment to another, which I eſteem highly of, and is very profitable to himſelfe: for ſo he leadeth a quiet life, and moſt agreeable to a true Religious man: & on the contrary, he that relyeth vpon his owne iudgment, is neuer at repoſe in any thing, and liueth vnquietly.

6. This third degree of Obedience hath three propertyes. The firſt is called Simplicity, which conſidering me in the Superiour, cauſeth the Religious man to put his Ordinations in execution, without any examination, whether he ſhould allow them or not. O how diſpleaſing vnto me is the diſputing Obedience, which in whatſoeuer thing that is ordayned by the Superiour, euer asketh wherfore, for what intent, for what end this or that is appointed? I haue not called thee out of the world to diſpute, or to examine thoſe things that be by the Superiour determined and commaunded, but to do them. And that they be done, it is nothing neceſſary to know for what cauſe, how, & for what end they be done. Wherefore let it be thy care to do ſo much of Obedience, as thou art bound vnto, and know thou, that it appertayneth not to the ſubiect to enquire, what end the Superiours haue propoſed vnto themſelues in their offices. If the Patriarke Abraham had demaunded of God, for what cauſe he would haue him ſacrifice his Sonne Iſaac, vpon whome relyed the benedictions of Nations, & many other promiſes formerly made, his Obedience had not beene ſo cō mendable, neither had he merited ſo much as he did by ſimply obeying.

7. The truly Obedient ſeeketh nothing, but to do the commaundment. O how greatly did I fauour thoſe Religious, who in the commaund of Superiours would not diſcuſſe and examine, whether they were profitable or otherwiſe, conuenient or not, or the contrary. Whence it hapned, that cō maūded by their Superiour, they laid hand vpon moſt cruell & fierce beaſts, as Lyons, leapt into riuers, watred dry ſtocks for a long ſpace togeather, and did many the like thinges, as ſtrang as theſe. And theſe left behind them on earth noble examples of Obedience, and for them they haue, for their ſimplicity in obeying, obtayned moſt glorious Crownes in Heauen. Sonne, deſireſt thou, tha • God ſhould haue a particular care of protecting thee, as he had of thoſe holy Fathers? Obey then with ſimplicity.

8. The other property is Humility, without which neither Obedience, nor Chaſtity, nor Pouerty pleaſe me. For Humility is Obediences mother, and the one may not conſiſt, and ſtand without the other. The Proud will not ſubiect himſelfe to any, and therefore cannot be Obedient, Pride, becauſe it calleth the ſubiect backe from the execution of the Superiours commaund, both depriueth of all merit, and increaſeth the trouble.

SONNE, why art thou ſo much afflicted and troubled, when thou perceiueſt others to haue little regard of thee? Wherefore doſt thou ſo earneſtly ſeek after honour, and the opinion of a great name? Art thou entred into Religion, that thou mayſt be eſteemed of others, or rather that thou mighſt with more ſecurity come to life eueerlaſting? Haſt thou renounced the world for the pleaſing of men, or that thou mighſt ſerue and pleaſe me? If thou haſt left it to pleaſe me, what skilleth it, though thou be nothing regarded of others? Thinkeſt thou, that by this conceit and opinion, either the good of thy ſoule is hindred, or the ſeruice diuine which thou hadſt a deſire to yeald vnto me? Truly no ſuch matter. If any thing were to be feared, it ſhould be this, leaſt humane eſtimation might worke thy ruine, when as the Apoſtle ſayth: If he ſhould ſtill pleaſe men, he ſhould not be Gods ſeruant. Sonne, if thou examine the matter well, he that eſteemeth thee not, profiteth thee much, becauſe he helpeth and furthereth thy ſeparation from the world, and to the making of thy recourſe to me, who am to giue life euerlaſting. He that maketh much of thee, and recommendeth thee, ſtoppeth vp the way of ſaluation againſt thee, and therfore my ſeruants of old, who floriſhed in former tymes in their Religion, reioyced if they were at any tyme contemned of others, & were on the other ſide ſory and grieued, if any exceſſe were vſed in their commendations: and no leſſe do all thoſe Religious men at this day, who haue their part in the true ſpirit of God. He who liueth in baniſhment, muſt little regard others, ſo he be in the grace and fauour of him, of whom he may be holpen.

2. The firſt rudiments to be learned of a Religious man, be theſe, to contemne himſelfe, to wiſh not to be eſteemed of others, to abnegate and deny himſelfe, to deeme and hold himſelfe vnworthy of any prayſe whatſoeuer, to do well, and to be ill entreated and handled. Without the practiſe of theſe rudiments and principles no Religious man can profit in the ſpirituall diſcipline. Wherefore if after ſome yeares ſpent in Religion, thou ſtill hunt after honours, and the eſtimation of a great name, it is a ſigne, that thou haſt not yet learned the firſt principles, that be deliuered in Religious Schoole, and how then wilt thou proceed and go forwards in ſpirit? What marueile, though thou be troubled, when honour is not done thee? If thou deſireſt to put all griefe out of thy mind, begin in earneſt to make a little eſteeme of thy ſelfe, for that he, who ſhall once contemne himſelfe, ſhall not find any diſguſt by others contemning of him. Th • greater opinion thou haſt of thy ſelfe, the more ſhalt thou be grieued, when others yeald thee not the honour, that is due vnto thee, and thou expecteſt.

3. Tell me, is it not worſe to be contemned, then not to be eſteemed of? and is not he more confounded, who is ſhamefully handled, then is he, who is ſpoiled of the honour due vnto him? It is ſo indeed. Admit thou art not perhaps much eſteemed: but I was of others deſpiſed, and laughed to ſcorne. Let the honour due vnto thee, be taken from thee: but I thy head was moſt ignominiouſly handled. Thou peraduenture art not courteouſly dealt with by thyne enemyes: but I was ill vſed euen by them to whome I had beene moſt beneficiall. And if I thy Lord, Head, and Maiſter, did with patience ſuffer ſo great iniuryes, vniuſtly done me, wherefore art thou diſmayd, if at any tyme ſo much honour be not yealded vnto thee, as thou wouldſt wiſh? Wilt thou be preferred before thy Lord, and Maiſter? Doth it ſeem vnto thee fitting, that vnder a thorny head and ignominiouſly treated, there ſhould ly members hid, both delicate, and honorably regarded? The more a man reſiſteth • o be contemned, the more vnlike is he to • is Lord: and he that taketh not paynes to • eſemble him on earth, ſhall not haue any part with him in heauen.

4. Honour is the reward of vertue. If • hou deſire to be honoured, thou muſt of neceſſity be vertuous, els thou wouldſt wiſh • o haue that giuen thee, that is not thy due, & he that ſhould yeald it vnto thee, ſhould • ather flatter thee, then prayſe thee. And what vertue is there in thee, for which • hou deemeſt thy ſelfe worthy of commen • ation, and veneration? True vertue euer g • eth in company with Humility, that is • he foundation of all Religious vertues. If • herefore there be not Humility in thee, • rue vertue muſt needs be abſent alſo. But • f there be Humility in thee, and thou be • ruly humble, how can it be thou ſhouldſt deſire honour, ſith it is the property of Humility to fly from honours, and commendations of men? He that practiſeth Humi • ity, deſireth to be deſpiſed of all, and is glad that he is nothing reckoned of. Moreouer, what memorable, or noble act haſt • hou done, wherefore ſhouldſt thou deſire or ſeeke after ſuch applauſe of men? Or what haſt thou ſuffered for the loue of me, • hat thou ſhouldeſt receiue a reward at my hands in this life? Certainly thou haſt no • yet ſhead thy bloud for me, neither ha • beene in bands, nor moſt ignominiouſl • haled and drawne through the ſtreets, no • nayled to the croſſe, as I was for thy ſake▪ And though thou hadſt ſuffered all this an • more for me, yet thou ſhouldeſt haue nee • the help of my grace, without which n • good can be done, and ſo all the praiſe ha • rather redounded vnto me, and not vnt • thee. Admitte it were true, that thou ha • done many workes worth the rewarding thinkeſt thou it beſt to do ſuch thinges that they may be rewarded with an humane honour in this life, that is, with • moſt contemptible price, if it be compare • with the diuine honour, prepared in heauen? He that ſeeketh for praiſe of the good workes that he doeth in this life, muſ • not expect any other reward in the nex • life.

5. Sonne, thou ſhalt neuer be remedied or cured of this euill, if thou find n • out the cauſe therof. The chief cauſe is the magnificall and great opinion, thou haſt of thy ſelfe, whereby thou perſuadeſt thy ſelfe, that thou art worthy of honour, and that he doth thee a great iniury, who ſhal • not haue the ſame conceit of thee. And • er hence is the griefe, thou feeleſt, when •• hers make no great eſteeme of thee. But •• t vs examine, I pray thee, what there is in •• ee, whereby thou ſhouldeſt deſerue ho • ours, and dignityes? For firſt whatſo •• er thou haſt receiued of me, I do con •• rue the ſame, and if I ſhould withdraw •• y hand but a little from thee, thou • ouldeſt be brought to nothing. If all the •• od in thee be myne, certainſy al honour •• ſo is due to me, and not to thee. The mi •• ries, imperfections, and ſinnes be thyne, • or which whether thou be worthy of • ommendation, or rather of confuſion, • onſider well. O how many Religious men • e deceiued with the eſtimation, that • hey haue of themſelues, and will be the • udges, and arbiters therof themſelues. For whiles they deeme themſelues worthy of honour, and yet ſee that they haue not got the opinion of any good name, either with their Superiours, or any other, they are greatly troubled, and afflicted in mind. He that layeth a bad foundation, maketh a worſe building vpon it.

6. Sonne, thou doſt not yet know thy ſelfe well, and therefore thou canſt not be a good iudge, nor iudge well of thy ſelfe. If thou didſt know thy ſelfe well, thou wouldeſt not raiſe ſo magnificall and ſtately a building vpon ſo weake and frayle a foundation. That a man be highly recommended, and held in great veneration, needs it muſt be, that there is an opinion, and eſtimation before in the mind, not of him who is to be honoured, but of them who are to giue the honour, touching his excellency and worthines. But if they ſee no vertue in thee at all, but imperfections rather, and leuityes, how can they haue a good opinion of thee, or ſpeake and report of thy prayſes? The good workes do cauſe a good opinion, and not the deſire of him, who ſeeketh his owne prayſes.

7. Deſireſt thou to ſee, how far thou art in this matter from the truth? Conſider what I am now to ſay vnto thee. Thou art either dead to the world, or not. If thou be not, thou art nothing worth for Religion, nor Religion for thee, ſith it receiueth and approueth none, but ſuch as haue from their hart renounced the vanityes of the world, and this is to be dead to the world. And amongſt the vanities of the world one is, to ſeeke after honour, and to deſire to be eſteemed for great. But if thou be dead to the world, why deſireſt thou to be honoured of it? A dead body careth not, whether it be placed on the right hand, or on the left, in an honorable place, or whether cappes and knees be giuen it, or not. But if thou ſeekeſt for a more honorable place, or a greater office, if thou deſireſt that others ſhould giue thee place, how art thou dead to the world? Neither doth it ſatisfy me, if thou ſayſt, thou deſireſt honour, for my glory and honour, that thou mayſt haue greater authority with men, and by help thereof mayſt be able to do more good with others. For if it were ſo, that appertained to me, and not to thee to prouide; and if there ſhall be any need, I will not be wanting to my duty. In the meane time it is my honour, and my glory, if thou be humble, and not greiued, if thou be at any tyme contemned: for ſo thou ſhalt be like vnto me, thou ſhalt liue quiet in Religion, and ſhalt receiue thy reward in heauen. And know thou, that to be deſirous of prayſe, is not the way to help others, but to be a follower of Humility, Charity, and other vertues, and moſt of all if thou be wholy eſtranged from all ambition, and auarice, and giue good example to others.

SONNE, vnles thou ſhalt forget thy people, and the houſe of thy Father, I • ill not loue and imbrace thee, nor deale 〈◊〉 any familiar manner with thee. It is • ot inough once to haue renounced the • orld, and thy parents, as thou didſt in the • eginning of thy conuerſion: but that thou • aiſt arriue to the height of perfection, • ropoſed thee, thou muſt needs perſiſt and • ontinue in the ſame renunciation till the • ery end of thy life. It little or nothing •• ofiteth the priſoner to be out of the priſon • ores, vnles his yrons be alſo taken away, • hich he had on his legs, when he was in •• e priſon. Euen ſo it will do thee little • ood to haue left thy Fathers houſe, vnles thou ſhalt alſo cut off thyne inordinate affection to thy parents, ſith this affection bindeth thee ſo ſtrongly, as thou canſt not forget them.

2. It is true, that in holy Writ I haue promiſed to the Religious an hundred fold togeather with life euerlaſting, but yet to them who out of a loue of ſeruing me, haue left father and mother, and whatſoeuer they poſſeſſed in the world. True it is, that I am the maiſter, and do teach, & haue alſo from the very beginning proteſted, that none can be my diſciple, who ſhall not hate father and mother, his owne life, & what euer befids, that may keep him frō profiting in ſpirit. He is not a good ſcholler, neither can profit, who is not attentiue to what is read in the ſchoole. The leſſon that I deliuer to my hearers is, that they dye to the world, that they maiſter & ſubdue their perturbations of mind that make a man vnquiet, that they ſpoile themſelues of all carnall affection to parents, leaſt they be excluded and ſhut out of the way to perfection. Doſt not thou by thyne owne experience find, that the ouermuch affectiō thou carryeſt to thy parents, maketh thee vnquiet? Seeſt thou not alſo, that the ſame moleſteth and troubleth others? Doſt thou not obſerue, that whiles thy myne and care is on them, thou comeſt to forget thy ſelfe? And this in truth is not to reſort to my ſchoole, but to runne rather out of it. If thou be dead to the world, why doth the care of parents trouble thee? If thou only liueſt to me, as thou oughteſt, why art thou not conioyned with me, and holdeſt me in place of Father and mother, & of all things els? O how well did my beloued, and Religious ſeruant S. Francis vnderſtand this, when he ſayd from his hart: Deus meus & omnia, and other my Religious Saints, who to auoyd all occaſions of dealing with their parents, retyred themſelues into far remote deſerts, and as men dead to the world, hid themſelues in caues vnder ground, as in their ſepulchres and graues.

3. Lord, haſt thou not commaunded in thy holy Law, that our neighbours ſhould be loued, yea & our enenyes to, & that they are to be holpen in their neceſſityes, and wāts. How thē is it thou now exacteſt, that we ſhould leaue, and hate our parents, who hold the firſt place amongſt our neighbours? Sonne, I deny not, that the parents and friends ſhould be loued, whome thou haſt left behind in the world, but I ſay they are to be loued with a ſpirituall affection, and with that loue, which perfect Charity requireth. And thou art not ignorant, I know, that thou art more neere vnto thy ſelfe, then thou art to parents, or friends: and Charity requireth that thou loue them ſo, as thou do not thy ſelfe any ſpiritual hurt for them. If then they trouble thee in Religion, and be a diſquiet vnto thee in my ſeruice, and any impediment and let alſo to thy ſpirituall profit, why ſhouldſt thou not forſake them? why ſhouldſt thou not get thy ſelfe far from them? Againe, art thou not to hate thoſe parents, who oppoſe themſelues againſt thee, and had rather haue thee to liue out of Religion? & more then that, labour alſo to draw thee out of it, and to fly from them, as from the Diuels inſtruments, and workes? Thou muſt not hold him for father or friend, who ſeeketh to put thy ſoule in ieopardy of damnation. They are not thy neighbours, nor yet of the number of thoſe corporall enemyes, whome the Chriſtian law would haue loued: but they be the enemyes of thy ſpirituall good, they are the enemyes of my honour and glory, and to ſay in one word, they be the baits of hell it ſelfe.

4. But when need is to releeue them in their neceſſity, as well corporall, as ſpi • ituall, how, and how farre, that thou art • o vnderſtand from thy Superiours. And • now thou, that the Diuell hath by a feig • ed and counterfaite ſhew of Charity and • iety towards parents, thruſt many out of • heir happy ſtate of Religion. No Religi • us man, vnles he be more then mortified, • nd more then dead to the world, and to • elfe loue, may euer with ſecurity deale with his parents. O how diſpleaſing is it vnto me, whiles I ſee ſome Religious to haue a moſt earneſt deſire to vnderſtand • omething touching the ſtate of their pa • ents, and to receiue letters from them? For what is it els, but to ſeeke an occaſion of • rouble, and of diſtraction in their prayers? • t is not much to haue forſaken parents in body, vnles thou alſo abandon them in mind and cogitation. O how wiſely did ſome ſeruants of myne, who hauing receiued letters of their friends from far countryes, for the conſeruing of their quiet and peace of mind, threw them vnread into the fire. O lamentable folly of ſome Religious perſons! Their parents by them left in the world, haue laid a ſide all care and memory of them, whiles they againe be day and night ſollicitous and anxious about them.

5. Neither do thoſe Religious leſſe offend me, who do not only wiſh, but alſo by all manner of diligence on their part ſeeke to raiſe their parents or kyn to great dignityes, and therefore they ſubiect themſelues to the men of the world, that they may gaine and wyn their fauour: & theſe men do greatly preiudice both their own • authority, and their Religion. Sonne, doſt thou not ſee, that is not to ſerue me, but thy friends? Seeſt thou not, that is not to furniſh and enrich thy ſoule, but to make others rich by many temporall commodityes? What rule perſcribeth, that thou ſhouldſt play thy parents Procuratour? Haue an eye to thy ſelfe, for I aſſure thee, that in the latter iudgment I will not demaund of thee, whether thy parents were great in this life, nor whether thou ſhewdſt thy ſelfe diligent in procuring them dignityes and honours, but will rather exact an accompt of thee, whether thou haſt buſyed and intangled thy ſelf in ſuch affaires. This is not the way of Religious perfection, but the way of looſing all ſpirit, and all piety togeather.

6. Is it not an exceeding great madnes for a Religious man to be moſt cowardly and negligent in running the way of perfection, whereto he was bound: and to be moſt cunning, and to ſhew a great witt about the raiſing of his friends vp to great dignityes in the world? And what is worſe then it? It more diſpleaſeth me, that there be Religious, who take more care that their parents and friends abound in temporall commodityes, then in ſpirituall. Whence it is, that they very ſeldome, and withall coldly, aduiſe them to the exerciſe of vertues, but they often, and in very earneſt manner excite them to the procuring of earthly riches. Sonne, what will the dignityes and titles of thy friends do thee good, if thou be imperfect? What reward expecteſt thou frō me, if thou trauaileſt & takeſt paynes only for fleſh and bloud? Certes thou ſhouldſt prouide better for thy ſelfe, and for their ſoules good, if thou wouldſt direct them in the way of vertue, and by ſo doing thy merit would be the greater, and their ſoules good ſhould be the more ſecurely promoted.

SONNE, Idlenes hath beene condemned euen from the tyme of the worlds creation, as the origen of very many euil • and that was in ſuch ſort done, as no • receiued it. Wherefore thy firſt Fath •• Adam was placed in the terreſtriall paradiſ • in a place of pleaſure, not to liue at eaſe, an • to be idle therin, or to tryfle the tyme in r • creating himſelf, but as the Scripture ſpe • keth, to worke in it. And being thru •• out of Paradiſe, that he might not be idle the earth was deliuered him to manure an • husband, that he might eate his bread i • the ſweat of his browes. And doſt thou who art made the heire of this thy firſt parents labours, thinke to eate thy brea • without ſweating? Thy Father Adam had alſo laboured in the terreſtriall paradiſe, i • he had continued therein, and wilt thou b • ydle in thyne exile, that is a place of paynes taking? Wilt thou attend to thy pleaſure • in the vale of teares? Conſider my ſonne, that thou art not yet come to thy country▪ but art ſtill a ſtranger and pilgrime, as all thy forefathers were. And if a pilgrim • haue a deſire to arriue at laſt home to his countrey, he muſt not giue himſelfe to ydlenes, or ſtay vpon the way, but go continually forwards, leaſt the darknes of the night come vpon him.

2. My ſeruant Iob ſayth, That man is borne to labour and therfore he that lo • eth his eaſe, and taketh not paynes accor • ing to his ſtate, ſeemeth not to anſwere • he condition of man. And therefore ſome haue not without cauſe called Idlenes the buryall of a liuing man. O vnhappy Religious, whoſe buryall is in his pleaſures, the • ench whereof, by reaſon of an inueterate cuſtome he ſmelleth not, but he ſhall feele it (alas) in his death, when he ſhall alſo haue a feeling of the hurt. For he muſt of neceſſity go depriued, and deſtitute of good workes, to another life, where the fewer good workes a man ſhall bring, the leſſe he ſhall haue of happynes, and he that might haue brought more, ſhall be greatly ſory • hat he brought thē not. O how true is that which the Wiſeman ſayth, That a liuing dog is better then a dead lyon. There be ſome Religious men excellently learned, generous of nature, & enriched with many • alents by God, but ſo giuen ouer to eaſe & idlenes, as where they are able wonderfully to promote the Chriſtian cauſe by their paynes and trauaile, yet they do nothing, and what be they els, then dead lyons? Certes a liuing dog, that is, that Religious man doth much more, who though but meanly and ſlenderly prouided of learning, doth yet what he can, and is able, for the loue of me. And indeed he th •• doth little, when he can no more, pleaſeth me more then doth he, who is of ability to performe much, and yet doth it not.

3. I was euer a capitall enemy of idlenes, and therefore meete is it, that thou, who makeſt a profeſſion of imitating me▪ ſhouldſt alſo be auerted from idlenes. Thou knoweſt well, that I began to take payne from my very childhood, in helping on • while my poore mother, another while my foſter-father Ioſeph in his trade; and wil • not thou, who art come out of the worl • to Religion to trauaile and take paynes help the Religion thy mother in her l • bours, and thy Superiours who intertain • and gouerne thee? Remember, what my Apoſtle ſayth, That an idle man is no • worthy of his meate. To deſire to eate, & not to haue a will to labour, is nothing el • but to haue a will to conſume and ſpen • what is got by others: a thing vnworthyman, not to ſay, a Religious man. Neithe • doth it ſatiſfy, that thou ſayſt, I am read • to take great paynes, but my Superiou • will not put me to thoſe labours wherunt • I haue an inclination, and which I am abl • to do with commodity and eaſe. This i • no iuſt excuſe, ſith it is not for thee to chooſe the office, or thing that is to be exerciſed or done. The ſeruant in ſeruing muſt not follow his owne inclination, but his Maiſters, and there • ore the Superiour ſupplyeth my place, to appoint vnto his ſubiects, what is to be done to my greater glory. Moreouer, whence art thou ſure, that thou canſt performe that charge and office well, whereunto thou haſt an inclination? Thou canſt not in this matter be an vpright and indifferent iudge by reaſon of the paſſion that deceiueth thee. Euery one pleaſeth himſelfe in his owne, but the paine and difficulty is, that the ſame may alſo be pleaſing to others: and though thou ſhouldſt content all, and yet ſhould diſpleaſe me, what good would it do thee? And therefore thou ſhalt neuer free thy ſelfe from the fault of idlenes, vnles thy trauayles be conforme to my will, declared vnto thee by thy Superiour.

4. O how pernicious a thing is idlenes to a Religious perſon. For where idlenes raigneth, there is no charity, which cannot be idle, as my Apoſtle ſayth very well. If therefore thou be idle, it followeth, that thou wanteſt charity. And what will it profit thee, poore and miſerable man, if thou haſt receiued the gifts, and talents of all creatures, & be without charity? What merits canſt thou heap vp for thy ſelfe, if thou laboureſt not according to charity? Idlenes is no more repugnant to paines taking and Charity, then it is pleaſing to the Diuell, to whoſe tentations & aſſaults he giueth place, oportunity, and occaſion. Where idlenes is, there the Diuell euer findeth ready entrance, for as much as idlenes is to him like a citty, vnprouided of the defence of walls. Hence it is, that thoſe ancient holy Fathers, who made the deſert famous, did euer and anone admoni •• their ſchollers, for freeing themſelues from the impugnations & aſſaults of the Diuell▪ to haue a care to be euer in ſome imployment or buſines, ſith by ſo doing an occaſiō is taken from the Diuell of working hi • bad deſignes.

5. Idlenes further worketh anothe • miſchief and hurt to a Religious man▪ & that is, that he falleth into many defects for as much as it maketh him curious, a breaker of ſilence, & detractour: it cauſeth him to diſturbe and hinder others in thei • good exerciſes; to go often abroad, and t • wander vp and downe the Citty, and to ſeeke ſundry recreations and paſtimes fo • the contenting of himſelfe. This is not • he way of purchaſing vertue, nor of la • ouring to perfection, wherunto thy fore •• thers ariued, and now do in a moſt plea • ant and contenting manner enioy the • ruit of their good works and labours.

6. Finally idlenes is cauſe of another • urt, that it ſpoileth the Religious man of • wo moſt precious thinges, namely tyme, • nd life, and is not this a moſt manifeſt madnes? I haue giuen thee life, and do ſtill • onſerue it, that thou mayſt enrich it by meriting, and haſt thou no regard of thyne owne good, and commodity? What pro • itor help can thy neighbour expect from • hee, if thou haſt not any conſideration of • hyne owne weale? I haue granted thee • yme, and oportunity of manuring and cultiuating thyne owne vineyard, that is • hy ſoule, and thou ſuffereſt it, through • hyne idlenes, to grow wilde. What good wilt thou do to thy Religion, who haſt • o little care of thyne owne ſoule?

SONNE, if thou couldſt go to heauen without tribulation, or without the ſuffering of aduerſityes in this life, according to the lawes of loue, thou ſhouldſt not with or deſire it, conſidering I thy Lord entred into it by the way of the croſſe, and of tribulation. All the bleſſed alſo, who do now enioy moſt perfect peace and reſt, and ioy in heauen, held the ſame way. Wherefore if thou haſt a deſire to go any other way, then that of tribulation, thou ſhalt neuer come to that place of quiet and ioy thou ſeekeſt, but of paynes and miſeryes, ſith aſſured it is, that none can haue his ioy both in heauen and in earth togeather. If thou wilt in this life be an imitatour of t •• rich Glutton, thou canſt not liue in the • ther, in the company of Lazarus. My ſel • proued by many tribulations, carryed m • owne heauy Croſſe vpon my ſhoulders, & therby gaue thee ſufficiently to vnderſtan • what way is to be kept to thy country. M • Apoſtle alſo declared it plainely inough that there is no getting into heauen, but b • many tribulations. And therefore to th • ſonnes of Zebedaeus my moſt deare diſciple • when they wiſhed to ſit one on the righ • hand, and the other on my left in my kingdome, I ſayd, That they knew not wha • they asked, for that they were firſt to think • of their ſuffering of tribulations, and the • afterwards to ſpeake of the reward the • of.

2. Thou art therfore deceiued if tho • thinkeſt, that there is acceſſe for thee to he • uē without thy croſſe & tribulatiōs: Tho • art deceiued, if thou thinkeſt thou mayſ • liue without the enduring of aduerſityes▪ thou art deceaued (I ſay) if thou thinkeſ • that thou canſt be in Religion free and exempt from all affliction. If outward tribulations be wanting, the inward wil aſſayle thee, for as much as the bad inclination • paſſions and inordinate deſires ſuffer not a man to be at quiet, and free from his croſſe. • nd though they were away, yet I will • pt omit my ſelfe to ſend thee for thy ſouls • ood and profit ſome affliction or other. • herefore ſeeing it is certaine, and vn • oubted, that in this exile the life cannot • oſſibly be paſſed ouer without croſſes and • ribulations, ſeeing the life it ſelfe is a con •• nuall tribulation, euery Religious man • hould in earneſt do very well, and beſt • or himſelfe, if he would make a vertue of • eceſſity, & accommodate himſelfe to beare • he croſſe patiently, and with a ſtout cou • age. All labour, the more patiently it is • ndured, the better and the more lightly is • t borne. Whoſoeuer refuſeth to follow me with his croſſe, his croſſe will follow him.

3. Sonne, what doſt thou, that thou • omplayneſt in thy afflictions, and art diſcouraged? Doſt thou not ſee, that thou makeſt them the more bitter vnto thee, and that they torment thee the more? Doſt thou thinke, that for the afflictions that thou beareſt, as thou art able, thou art the leſſe beloued of me? I am not like vnto the men of the world, who abandone their friends, when it is their hap to fall into any calamity, yea I ſend ſometyms tribulations vnto ſome, that I may be preſēt with them, when they are in their troubles. I do i • truth reproue and chaſtiſe my ſeruants th • more, the better I loue them, that they may the more perfectly be purged from all th • filth of their ſinnes, their vertue may be the more ſtrengthned, and beeing ſo corroborated may be manifeſted, and made known vnto others. If thou didſt but ſee, in how great an eſteeme a good and perfect Religious man is with me, when he is in affliction and miſery, thou wouldſt wonder, that I do not multiply more and greater afflictiōs vpon him. For he in that ſtate looſeth nothing of his ſpiritual gayne, & more then that he profiteth himſelf exceedingly, & by his own exāple inciteth others wonderfully with a willing mind to imbrace tribulations, and to hold them, as a moſt ſingular gift, ſent him from heauen. And therefore it often happeneth, that ſome pious, & Religious man, exerciſed by ſuch tribulations, is able to effect more, and do more good, then many preachers. Patience manifeſted by worke, profiteth much more then when it is recommended and preached out of a pulpit.

4. O how much is that Religious man in my fauour, who when any affliction befalleth him, doth at the very firſt accept it, as a particuler fauour of myne, and yealdeth me moſt harty thankes therefore, and ſecondly ſeeketh to reape ſome profit therby for his ſoule, by crauing of my help • hat he may for the loue of me beare it both manfully and willingly. And can it be poſſible, that I ſhould not help ſuch a Re • igious perſon? Why ſhould I not lend him my aſſiſting hand in tribulation? Why • hould I not free him, and glorify him? Contrarywiſe, how much doth it diſpleaſe • e to ſee a Religious man ſighing deeply, murmuring, and diſcontented in the very • eaſt tribulation, as though he had proclaimed warre againſt me? Is not this a • alpable arrogancy? Is not this to take the • words point in his owne hand? True it is • hat tribulation is a ſword, but it is to be •• ken by the hilt: for he that ſhall lay hand • pon the point, woundeth himſelfe. A good religious man, who taketh the ſword by the hilt, vſeth and handleth it with pro • it in cutting off the imperfections and ſuperfluous deſires, and alſo in driuing all enemyes away from his ſoule.

5. It is to be confeſſed that tribulation is bitter, but it is ſuch bitternes, as is not il: neither can it be properly ill, becauſe it cōmeth from my heauenly Father, whoſe goodnes is infinite, and leadeth to the ſupreme good, as it hath already brought all the bleſſed, that dwell now in heauen. And ſeeing I, the Sonne of God, was neuer without tribulation, it nothing beſeemeth a Religious man to refuſe it for the bitternes that is therein. He, that hath for the loue of me once ſpoyled himſelfe of the pleaſures of this world, muſt in Religion ſeeke not the pleaſure of the ſenſes, but to pleaſe the taſt of his ſoule. For if I had refuſed the bitter cup of my paſſion, what a ſtate would that haue beene of thyne, and of mankind beſides? There are ſome, who thinke the affliction that they ſuffer, is ouermuch, yea and to exceed all the tribulations and croſſes of the world. But it is nothing ſo, and more then that, by that conceit and opinion they greatly offend me, becauſe they imagine & feigne me to be a cruel tyrant, who layeth more heauy burdens vpon men, then their forces may beare. I am not ignorant, how much euery one is able to beare: I know alſo, what may pr • fit or hurt thē: but it ſo hapneth, that to him who hath not been exerciſed in bearing • ffliction, the very leaſt miſery becommeth great, yea and intollerable alſo: and he, who hath not proued, or knoweth not others calamityes or miſeryes, thinketh his owne greater then theirs.

6. When a man hath not in this life his part in affliction, and all things ſucceed vnto him as he would deſire, it is no good ſigne: for that whether he be iuſt, or be a ſinner, it is to be feared, that he is reſerued for ſome greater puniſhment, and that the proſperity of this life is graunted him for a reward onely of the good he hath done heere. When the ſicke perſons life is deſpaired of, there is giuen him to taſte whatſoeuer he ſhall deſire. But when a man hath his part in tribulations, it is a good ſigne. For if he be good, by tribulations he is made better, and as gold, the more it is purged, the more it ſhineth, and the more perfect it becommeth. If he be in the ſtate of ſinne, by tribulations he is awaked out of it, that he may remember himſelfe, and by ſight of his owne miſery looke about him, and repent. The Prodigall ſonne, when he was in his flouriſhing ſtate and in his proſperity, left his father, & when fortune after turned her whele, and want and miſery oppreſſed him, ſeeing the calamitous ſtate wherein himſelfe liued, he returned home to his father. Tribulation oftentymes cauſeth vnderſtanding, when proſperity bereaueth a man of it. How many be there, who becauſe they be not preſſed with any thing aduerſe, haue either layd aſide all remembrance of me, or ſhew themſelues like vnto thoſe, in whoſe affection and loue I haue very little interreſt? But when I ſhall but once ſend them the very leaſt ague, or any dangerous infirmity or ſicknes, they forthwith come running vnto me, and cry aloud, Saue vs we periſh.

7. The neceſſity, that compelleth men to come vnto me, is healthfull, but yet deſired of few, becauſe it is vnknowne. Many be infirme, but they acknowledge not their infirmity, and though they know it, yet they know not what medicine is to be vſed for the remedying thereof. I am the domeſticall Phiſitian to Religious perſons, and know exactly the complexions of all, as alſo the cauſes of their ſicknes, and make a medicine fitting for the remouing and taking of them all away. Tribulation is a medicine, which with the more patience it is receiued, the more effectuall and ſoueraigne is it to cure. This medicine by me preſcribed and willingly taken, no • only purgeth and taketh away the bad effects of the diſeaſe, but alſo, if it be proportionably receiued, purgeth cleane the reliques of all the antedent indiſpoſitions and ſicknes. It is a property of this antid e to ſearch to the root of the euill, and to take it quite away, which is pride: in ſo much as by humblyng it cureth, and maketh the froward, angry, and terrible, as meeke as lambes. This medicine teacheth euery Religious man, how much he hath profited in Religion, how ſolid he is in vertue, and how conioyned he is with me, his Creatour and Redeemer. Finally tribulation worketh ſo, as whatſoeuer lyeth hid in the ſoule, whether it be vertue or vice, it layeth it open to the eye.

8. There is another property of tribulation, that it preſerueth a man from future miſchiefs. Many haue beene very neare to moſt grieuous falls, but by occaſion of ſome calamity or other ſent them, they haue beene preſerued from them. I like not of that Religious man, who is grieued, when any ſicknes, or croſſe befalleth him. For he ſhould thinke, that infirmity is no • eſſe my gift, then is health: and how • noweth he, that he could ſerue me better • n good health then in infirmity? Whence • noweth he, whether it would profit him • ore to keep his bed, or to wander vp and downe? How knoweth he, whether by his ſicknes he be to be deliuered from greater miſchiefes and dangers, or not? And therefore euery one ſhould permit himſelfe to my will, and gratefully to accept whatſoeur I ſhall preſcribe vnto him, and not to ſeeke for any other thing then to make ſome profit of his tribulations.

9. Sonne, reſolue ſomething, ſith ſo long as thy peregrination ſhall be of continuance in this mortall fleſh, thou ſhalt be ſubiect to tribulations. Be thou affected to any place thou deſireſt, and to whatſoeuer ſtate of life that may moſt content thee, thou ſhalt neuer want aduerſity, till thou come to thy country in heauen. Thou muſ • further vnderſtand, that ſeeing tribulation is a medicine, it worketh according to th • diſpoſition it findeth, and therefore it may ſometymes do good, & ſometymes again • hurt. If thou take it with humility & patience, and thankeſgiuing, it will profit if on the other ſide thou take it with an vnwilling mind, with indignation, & complayning againſt him who ſendeth it t • thee, it will greatly hurt thee, and redoubl • th • affliction beſides. For to that whic • hapneth and is felt from without, wil • come another within, that is, that whic • the inordinate deſires cauſe and produce in the mind, whiles a man becommeth inwardly moued, and angry for the tribulation, that hath a repugnance with his will. The tribulation, that is taken with an ill will, is not diminiſhed, but rather increaſed.

10. There be ſome, who when as they cannot complaine of tribulation, as of an ill thing, do transferre and lay all their cō plaint vpon the creatures whence it commeth, and ſay: I make no great reckoning of the tribulation, but I take it in ill part, that this man or that was the occaſion therof, as though one might without my will, and permiſſion, receiue tribulation • t anothers hands. It is nothing ſo: for as much as all tribulations happen by my order, and I vſe creatures one while for the puniſhing of ſome, another while for the giuing vnto others an occaſion of meriting, and of exerciſing ſome vertue. And their complaint groweth of none other thing, then that they may not endure aduerſityes. For where they are aſhamed ſincerely to confeſſe it, leaſt they may ſeeme deuoid of the vertue of patience and fortitude, they turne themſelues againſt the creatures, and complaine that they be ouer ſore oppreſſed therwith, not knowing what way to turne themſelues. And ſuch men make it known, that they want both patience and Charity.

11. Tell me, my Sonne, why, when thou lighteſt vpon a very afflicted friend of thyne, thou doſt at the firſt giue him ſo much good counſaile, and remedyes for his euill, and yet if thou be thy ſelfe plunged in the ſame, or like affliction, thou vſeſt it not thy ſelfe? Thou knoweſt how to tel others that they beare all with patience, that they conforme themſelues to Gods will, that after tribulation they are to expect conſolation, ſith the Father of heauen doth not ſend his any affliction, but for their greater good: And when tribulation viſiteth thy owne houſe, wherfore doeſt thou not welcome and receiue it with patience? Why doſt thou not conforme thy ſelfe to the diuine will? Why doſt thou not reape ſome ſpirituall profit by it? He is no good Phiſitian, who applyeth not to himſelfe, what he thinketh good for others. But this is worſt of all, that in tribulation thou art moued with indignation, and ſayſt; what haue I done? what, I ſay, haue I done? Put thy hand to thy breaſt, and thou ſhalt find, that thou art a ſonne of Adam, and conceyued in ſinne, and nothing ſo innocent, as thou thinkeſt. Thou ſhalt therefore do better, if thou ſayſt; Lord increaſe my ſorrow • nd payne, increaſe alſo my patience. Burne me • eere, cut me heere, that thou mayſt ſpare me for e • er.

MY ſonne, the tongue is a little part of man, but yet of very great power • o do much, either good or ill. I haue giuen • tongue to men, not only to conuerſe and • reate one with another, but alſo, and that moſt of all for this, that by it they may • rayſe me, celebrate & extoll my greatnes, • nd teach others the way to heauen. And • herfore when a Religious man abuſeth it • n diſcourſing vnprofitably, in murmuring • gainſt his Superiour, in cenſuring the life • f another, in lying, in ambiguous ſpea • ing, or with diſſimulation, it is a procee • ing much vnbeſeeming Religious profeſion, and no leſſe diſpleaſing vnto me. And • t may be ſayd of ſuch a one, that he car • ieth not himſelfe like a Religious perſon, • nd that, that is true, which my Apoſtle S. Iames ſayth: If any man thinke himſelfe to be Religious, not bridling his tongue, bu • ſeducing his hart, this mans Religion i • vaine.

2. But againſt this, o Lord, the ſame Apoſtle hath written, that none could eue • tame the tongue, and that worſe it is the • a ſauage and wild beaſt: whence it is, tha • the Scripture ſayth els-where, that to rule and moderate the tongue is a gift, that dependeth of thee. And if it be ſo, what fault is there on our part, when we permi • it to breake forth into vnprofitable talke▪ It is indeed moſt true, my Sonne, that th • tongue is worſe thē a raging beaſt, becauſ • the hurt that ſuch a beaſt doth, goeth n • further then to the body, but the domag • that the tongue doth, extendeth it ſelfe both to ſoule and body. The beaſt ordinarily doth no miſchiefe to the maiſter who hath the handling and tending of him: but • bad tongue hurteth him whoſe it is firſ • of all, and then others. It hath neuer been • heard, that one beaſt hath deſtroyed a • whole prouince, but the tongue hath ruyned cittyes, and whole kingdomes: and a • my ſcriptures ſay: More haue dyed by th • tongue, then by the ſword. True it is, tha • none can tame anothers tongue, but euery one may rule his owne with the help of my grace: and further it is true, that the Religious man, who is of power ſo to gouerne his tongue, as by it he offend not, meriteth at my hands great prayſe, & no leſſe reward. But this perfection, beſids that it is hard, is almoſt impoſſible. It is only required, and neceſſary on thy part, that thou endeauour to bridle & gouerne thy tongue in the beſt manner thou canſt, and ſo doing thou mayſt be aſſured, that thou ſhalt neuer want the aſſiſtance of my grace. But if thou giue it liberty & the raynes of thy own wil, and permit it to vtter vpon euery occaſion, what commeth in thy mind, who ſhould endure the blame of theſe thy tōgues faults but thy ſelfe, and thyne owne neglect in reſtrayning it?

3. And if thou deſire in particuler to know, touching what care a Religious man ſhould haue of his tongue, I ſay firſt, that he muſt keep it from ſpeaking much: for ſo much as certaine it is, that there cannot want ſinne, where ſpeach is vſed. He that ſpeaketh much, conſidereth not what he ſayth, and by that occaſion he ſpeaketh and vttereth many things to ſmal purpoſe, and therewith vnprofitable alſo. And this is that, which the Sage meant to giue vs to vnderſtand, when he ſayth, That foole haue their hart in their mouth: becauſ • they ſpeake whatſoeuer commeth in thei • mind, in ſo much as their hart ſeemeth to depend on their mouth. But on the contrary, the wiſe and circumſpect hath hi • mouth in his hart, becauſe he conſidereth, and premeditateth what he hath to ſay, & by that occaſiō maketh the tongue to haue dependance on the hart, and not the hart on the tongue.

4. In the ſecond place the Religious man muſt forbeare to ſpeake ambiguouſly & doubtfully, or in a diſſembling manner. For ſith the life of a Religious man ought to be ſimple, and without fraud: euen ſo muſt his ſpeach in like manner be round, open & without any diſſimulation at al. It ſhould be a matter reprehenſible euen in a Pagan, much more in a ſecular Chriſtian man to vſe a doubtfull ſpeach or Equiuocation to deceiue another, and to haue one thing in hart, and another thing in mouth: how much greater fault then ſhould it be in a Religious man, vpon whome is impoſed an obligation to labour to perfection. And more then this, he that vſeth ſuch manner of ſpeaking, maketh himſelfe ordinarily odious, if we beleeue the Wiſe man, who • ayth: He that ſpeaketh ſophiſtically, maketh himſelfe hatefull to euery one. If then • hou offendeſt me by this diſſimulation or Equiuocation of ſpeaking, how is it poſſible that I ſhould loue thee, or giue thee any countenance? Or that I ſhould yeald thee • he aſſiſtance of my grace? And if this maketh thee hatefull to thy neighbour, how • s it poſſible, that thou ſhouldſt help him, or do him good? For none truſteth him with whome he hath loſt his credit.

5. In the third place a Religious man muſt beware he ſpeaketh not what is vn • rue. Neyther muſt thou thinke it inough • o forbeare lying that hurteth another, or • hat which is aſſeuered or confirmed by • ath, which be mortall ſinnes, and where • nto not only many ſecular perſons, but al • o many heathens would haue a care not to fall: But a man muſt further abſtaine from • ll manner of lying that is ſpoken in ieſt, or • or pleaſure, to another, for that God is offended therwith: and euen the very leaſt offence of God is to be auoyded with all poſſible diligence, though there ſhould o • herwiſe follow ſome great good, as is to • aue the neighbours life or ſoule. We muſt • euer chooſe a bad means, wherby to come • o a good end, and therfore euery Religious man ſhould rather endure whatſoeuer d • mage and hurt, euen death it ſelfe, the • that a lye ſhould come from his mouth. H • is no good Religious man, who is not • friend of truth, neither is he a frien • to truth, who maketh no ſcruple to ly • euen in a light matter. Amongſt ſecula • perſons to tell a lye, is an act ſo baſe, & in famous, as for a lye they chaleng one another into the field. And lyars are commonl • held for vile, baſe and contemptible, an • for ſuch, as are denyed vnworthy to be belieued. What then may be thought touching a Religious man, that is a lyar▪ To whome may we reſemble him? It cannot be ſayd, that he reſembleth me, who an • the truth it ſelfe: it remayneth then, tha • he be ſayd to be like vnto Sathan, who i • in my Scriptures called a lyar, and the father of lyes.

6. Moreouer tell me, my ſonne, is i • not a great infamy to one, that credit is no • giuen him, though he ſpeaketh the truth▪ And yet this is the paine & puniſhment o • a lyar. For if he ſhould lye but once, though he looſe not all his credit, yet he maketh himſelfe at leaſt ſuſpected, that euery one may ſtand in doubt, and that with reaſon, whether he ſpeaketh what is true, or whe •• er he may beleeue him, or not. And if 〈◊〉 be a thing reprehenſible to lye, treating •• out temporall matters with men, what • ill it be to vtter what is falſe in thinges •• irituall? What will it be to lye to his Su • eriour, or to his ghoſtly Father, who • o hold my place?

7. O how much do thoſe Religious •• en diſpleaſe me, who hearing another • rayſed, ſeeke to ſtayne ſuch his commen • ation ſome way or other, or to obſcure it • y putting ſome (But) in the way, or by • emembring ſome one or other imperfe • tion of his. And if ſuch perſons would • iligently ſearch out the roote of this fault, & vnderſtand whence it hath the origen, • hey would endeauour, I am ſure, to bridle • heir tongue, and amend their fault. For • n ſome this fault ariſeth of a bad inclination they haue, and of a certaine pleaſure & contentment they take in cenſuring the life and actions of another. In others it proceedeth of enuy, by which they are ſory of their neighbours good renowne, and therfore they ſeeke to obſcure it, or to diminiſh • it by their bad reports of him. In ſome againe it hath the ſource of pride, and of a perſwaſion they haue, that by obſcuring anothers praiſes, they ſhall increaſe their owne, and make themſelues to appear greater, & better then thoſe, who be prayſed. To abaſe others, is not the way for a man to ra ſe himſelfe: for it is no vice, bu • vertue that rayſeth a man, in ſo much a • where the rootes be ſo bad, & ſo venemous it is an eaſy matter to thinke, that th • ſpeach which proceedeth thence, canno • be but bad, and venemous alſo. And therefore, my Sonne, thou muſt haue a vigilan • care neuer to diminiſh the commendations or actions of another, as alſo not to exaggerate, and commend the ſame with to much amplification, for as much as the one and the other is a vice of the tongue, that diſpleaſeth me.

8. Thoſe alſo are diſpleaſing vnto me, who in their ſpeach take a contentment to bite and ſting another, and to ſay in one word, haue no ſcruple to vexe, and moleſt their brethren. Neither charity, nor the rules of Religious modeſty teach, that any ſhould take his pleaſure with the diſpleaſur • and moleſtation of another. This is a thing worthy of blame euen in a ſecular perſon, and therefore much more in a Religious man. A man may ſometimes be mery and pleaſant in his conuerſation, and vſe ſome witty diſcourſes, which yet muſt be in time and place, without the offence or diſcontent of any.

9. And the tongue, which is without • he bridle of vertue, ſtayeth not it ſelfe • here, but it paſſeth eaſily further to murmure, and to report ill of another: and it ſeemeth vnto it ſelfe oftentymes to haue found a ſufficient and good excuſe to ſay, • hat it is in a light matter, and that the ſinnes be not groſſe, that be ſpoken of. As • hough it were not any ſinne to murmure of light matters, and that it were not an offence as well to God, as to the neighbour. O peruerſe tongue, and worthy of double puniſhment! the one for ſpeaking ill of an • ther, the other for excuſing thy fault, in • aying, that it is no great matter. It is not • ny light matter, or ſuch as importeth not much for a man to perſeuere and continue in what is ill, though it be little. He that • xcuſeth his ſinne, hath not any care to amend himſelfe. I haue not any where ſayd, that a man might murmure in light matters, but I haue on the contrary forbidden it, when I commaund, That euery one • hould loue his neighbour, as himſelfe. When another murmureth of thee, is it not true, that thou beareſt it with an ill will? Thinke thou alſo, that others take it in ill part, when thou murmureſt of them, beſides that thou offendeſt me, and therei • doeſt againſt my will.

10. Moreouer the good opinion, th •• is had of the perſons, and eſpecially of th • Religious man, profiteth much to the he • ping of the neighbour: but the murm • ring, and detracting tongue obſcureth th •• good opinion, and conſequently hindre • the fruite of good example, and the ligh • of good edification, that might be giue • vnto others. And more then that, by ſuc • diſcouery of the defects and imperfectio • euen of them, who haue the reputation o • good & vertuous perſons, is an occaſion • ſcandall, being a thing vndoubted, th •• thoſe, who are yet feeble and weake, he • ring mention made of the imperfectio • of the good, come eaſily to contemne then and which is more, are animated to commit greater faults themſelues. And if th • tongue that murmureth of ſecular perſon • be not excuſable, and greatly diſpleaſe •• me, how may that tongue be excuſed, th • murmureth of my ſeruants? What will be to murmure of Superiours, who o • cupy my place? What will it be to impu •• vnto one an imperfection, which he ha • not, therby taking an occaſion to murmu • and ſpeake ill of him?

11. The good Religious man doth reſtraine not only his tongue from all detraction and murmuring, but alſo ſtoppeth his eares, when he heareth the like from another, and if it happen, that he heareth any murmuring againſt his Superiour, he defendeth him in what he can, ſeeking to hide, & excuſe the imperfectiōs that might be in him. For thou muſt, my ſonne, perſwade thy ſelfe, that both the honour, and the iniury thou doſt to thy Superiour, redoundeth to me, and that I will be the iudge either for thy puniſhment, or for thy reward. O how much are thoſe deceiued, who hauing receaued ſome diſcontent at • he hands of their Superiour, do complaine • nd murmure at him, affirming, that he hath wronged them. Who hath made ſuch men their Superiours Iudges? What law commaundeth them to reuenge themſelus? If the Superiour hath done amiſſe, in what booke haue they found, that they may therfore murmure at him, and repay one euill with another? Certes they haue not learned this leſſon of me: for I do teach the quite contrary, to render good for ill, & to ouercome the bad turne with a good one.

12. There is another vice of the tongue, no leſſe pernicious, then be the precedent, and that is, to diſcloſe ſome ſecret that a man ſhould not, and which ſhould be concealed. And what is worſt of all in this kind, is, that there be ſome, who by a curious importunity, and wylie craft ſeeke to draw ſome ſecrets from another, that they may afterwards communicate the ſame with ſome other very familyar friend of their own. And in this the faults be many they commit. For firſt there is in it curioſity, ſecondly a ſinne to induce another to diſcouer that which he ſhould keep ſecret, thirdly another ſinne in reuealing that which he hath receaued as a depoſitum, to be kept ſecret. Finally, of it there groweth many debates, quarrells, hatreds, diſcontents, many ill and hard words, and othe • the like inconueniences. Seeſt thou now▪ my ſonne, of how many euills a naughty tongue is the cauſe, and that it is not without ground, that my Apoſtle S. Iames calleth it an vnquiet and turbulent euill, ful • of deadly poyſon, and a fire that conſumeth all that it layeth hold on? But tell me wherefore thinkeſt thou, that the tongu • was ſhut vp within the mouth, as it wer • in a cloſe chamber, & kept in with the teet • and lyps, as with a double rampire, if it b • not to giue thee to vnderſtand, that when thou ſhouldſt haue a will & deſire to moue thy tongue to ſpeake, reaſon muſt firſt open the gate, as one that hath the charge & cō maund ouer it: and that when it ſhould be expected, that it be retyred and ſilent, the ſame reaſon muſt ſhut vp the ports againe to keep it in: for els the tongue will diſperſe the poyſon, and do more hurt then thou canſt thinke, or imagine.

MY ſonne, what may be expected from him, who being ſore ſicke, ſhould for want of vnderſtanding his owne will, refuſe the medicine that might cure him, or though he ſhould take it, ſhould not keep it any long tyme, but caſt it vp preſently againe? Such a one queſtionles ſhould be in great danger of his life. Correction is an healthfull medicine, though few there be that know it, and very few haue practiſe of it: but becauſe it is ſomewhat bitter and troubleſom, thereof it commeth, th • t it is diſpleaſant to them, who haue no deſire to perfect themſelues, though it be to cure them, and to promote them much in ſpirit and in perfection. This medicine, as all others, muſt be proportioned to the complexion of the infirmed perſon, and is to be giuen in tyme, when the humors be prepared, and when the ſicke perſon ſhall be either at quiet, or leſſe troubled. And to the end the ſicke perſon may take it with a better will, he muſt firſt of all make himſelfe capable of his euill, of the danger he findeth himſelfe in, and of the great eaſe he may receaue by the medicine.

2. The Religion, that maketh no vſe of this ſort of remedy, cānot long conſerue it ſelfe, and it is an exceeding great fault in the Superiour to forbeare to correct his ſubiects, and to permit them to liue at their owne will, for feare of diſpleaſing them. The ſicke, that liueth after his owne manner, becommeth rather worſe then amendeth. Since the corruption by ſinne, human nature is ſo inclined to euil, as if there be not an eye had to help and repaire it by admonition and correction, it will ſoone fall into ſome ruine, or other. O what an accompt ſhall Superiours haue to make, for feare of making themſelues hated, or for feare of diſcontenting, or for ſome other human reſpects, omit to correct their inferiours. They ſhould perſwade themſelues, that the defects of their ſubiects, which ſhould haue been amended by their correction, ſhal be imputed vnto them. But much worſe ſhall be the condition of the inferiours, who being admoniſhed by their Superiours, become troubled and diſcontented, and do take the correction, which is ſo profitable and ſoueraigne a medicine, for an iniury done them: whence it commeth, that being vnworthy thereof, they ceaſe not murmuring againſt their Superiours: which is nothing els, but to murmure againſt me, whoſe will it was, that ſuch correction ſhould light vpon them. But what hope is there of amendement in ſuch perſons, when they become worſe, and add one fault to another? What good may be expected from them, when they will not acknowledge their fault, and eyther refuſ • correction, or if they receaue it, they preſently reiect it with a diſdaine? Vnhappy is he, who hideth his wounds, and much more vnhappy he, who hath no deſire to procure the cure of them.

3. Tell me, my ſonne, whence is it, that thou art ſo troubled, & ſo ſore moued, when thy Superiour blameth thee? Seeſt thou not, that ſo to do, is to take the knife by the edge, and therwith to giue thy ſelfe a wound? Seeſt thou not, that by ſo doing thou conuerteſt the medicine into poyſon, which I had ordained for thy good, and for the healing vp of thy wounds, and thy euill diſpoſition? Is not this to ſay in plaine termes to thy Superiour, that he aduiſe thee no more, nor giue thee any correction, becauſe thou wilt not beare it? And what other thing is this, then to fauour thyne owne euill, and to refuſe cure? Not to haue a wil to be reprehended, to ſpeake properly, is to haue a will to go from ill to worſe: which is neither thyne owne good, nor the good of Religion, nor that which thy Superiour may in conſcience do, or ſuffer▪

4. But let vs conſider a little, wherefore thou art ſo much troubled for being reprehended. Is it becauſe thy Superiour blameth thee for a fault thou haſt not done? or that it is nothing ſo great a one, as thy Superiour hath made it? or if for that thou thinkeſt thy ſelfe to haue been wronged by them, who haue made report of the matte • vnto him, and thou wouldſt peraduentur • haue the ſame examined, and proued by witnes, and that finding it falſe & vntrue thou wouldſt haue him puniſhed, and to make thee ſatisfaction, who hath made th • report to thy Superiour? My ſonne, this is not the way to perfection, neither is it the proceeding of Religious perſons to examin or to confront witneſſes, nor to debate matters by proceſſe of Law. For ſo to proceed, were to multiply debates and contentions, to trouble & diſturbe peace, to open a gate to much hatred and diſcords: and when I did in my Ghoſpell deliuer the manner of fraternall correction, I did not giue precepts or inſtructions of any ſuch manner of proceeding. It is a courſe both better, and more beſeeming the Religious man, to ouercome by way of Humility, then by way of debate, and contention. O how much haue ſome of my ſeruants gayned and profited, who being reprehended by their Superiours, euen for ſome fault they had not done, receaued the reprehenſion as comming from me, and perſwaded that I was he who blamed them by the mouth of their Superiour, humbled themſelues, without further debating the matter wherewith they were charged, and committing all to Gods prouidence craued pardon, yea by ſo doing much edified their Superiour. And of this it came, that the good opinion that was before had of them was ſo far of from receauing diminution, as it was thereby much increaſed, and the • did continue withall much more enriche • with merits. And notwithſtanding this, i • appertained to me to cauſe the truth to b • after diſcouered, and to come to light fo • the manifeſtation of their vertue.

5. My ſonne, it is in thy will to conuert correction much to thyne own profit whether thou haſt committed the fault wherof thy Superiour aduiſeth or blamet • thee, or haſt not done it. For if thou haſ • done the fault, this correction will ſeru • thee for a purgation, and help to cancel • & raze out the fault thou haſt committed▪ If thou haſt not done the thing, thou mayſ • vſe it for a preſeruatiue medicine, & it wi •• put thee in mynd to ſtand vpon thy guard more, and better then before tyme, giuing thee an occaſion of conſeruing thy vertue▪ & innocency. And this is the true meanes o • making profit of correction, namely if thou receaue it as a medicine comming from me, and ſuch as I haue ordayned for thy good.

6. There be others who complaine no • ſo much of the correction, as of the manner wherewith it is vſed towards them▪ ſaying that the Superiour is ouer harſh in his reprehenſions, and that he exaggerateth anothers fault ouermuch. He that would haue euery thing after his owne fancy, hath many diſcontentments, and liueth in much diſquiet of mind. So the medicine may do thee good, to what end ſhouldſt thou trouble thy ſelfe, whether the potion be ſweet, or ſower? My ſonne, haſt thou a deſire to liue in peace? Leaue that, which concerneth thy Superiour, & thinke of that alone, which toucheth thy ſelfe. To haue an eye to this, that the correction be founded in Charity, that it be done without choller, & without diſdaine, that it be proportioned to the fault, that it be done in tyme, that the inferiour conceaue that which is done, be done out of a deſire of his good, all this appertaineth to the Superiour, and not to the inferiour: but to haue a care, that the correction be receaued humbly with patience, and a will to make his profit thereof, that toucheth the inferiour. But if the inferiour wil peruert this order, and haue his eye rather vpon the manner wherewith correction is to be done, then how he ought to admit it, it will not be well with him, no more then it would be with the Superiour, if he would haue an eye rather to the manner of taking correction well, then to giue it, in a manner fitting, and for the good of his ſubiects. He eaſily committeth an errour, who thinketh not often, and ſeriouſly on that, which concerneth and importeth him to do.

7. My ſonne, if thou haſt a deſire to amend, loue correction, for ſo much as it is a good & aſſured meanes therunto. Thou knoweſt not thyne owne faults, or if thou doeſt, thou knoweſt them not, as thou ſhouldſt. Thou perceiueſt not how offenſſiue they be to anothers eye, how is it then poſſible, thou ſhouldſt amend them? And correction is that, which giueth thee vnderſtanding, and knowledge both of the one, and the other. The Diuell hateth correction, and in the Religious laboureth to worke an auerſion from it, for that he well knoweth the great good which they may receaue thereby towards their aduancement & progreſſe in perfection. O how do thoſe Religious men pleaſe me, who do not only willingly receaue correction, and ſeeke to make their profit therof, but do alſo deſire ſome one or other of their friends to put them very often in remembrance of their faults, and imperfections, whereinto they may hap to fall. He that deſireth not correction, nor that he be told of his faults, giueth to vnderſtand, that he hath not any forward diſpoſition to amend himſelfe.

8. Others there be, who may not endure to be admoniſhed, or reprehended by him who is not their Superiour, and they do not only not take it in good part, but do further conceaue an indignation againſt him, and deeme him for a man troubleſome and importune. Conſider I pray thee, my Sonne, how far Pride leadeth a man, when it cauſeth him to be diſcontented, and angry with them who exerciſe towards him an office of Charity, in putting him in mind of his faults, for which he hath iuſt cauſe to render him thanks. But it may be, that ſuch perſons thinke themſelues irreprehenſible, and be ſo conceited of themſelues, that all they do, is well done, or that they are diſcontented to be reprehended by their equalls, though in the mean while they know wel inough, that themſelues are faulty. The one and the other cannot proceed of any thing but pride, and to ſay truly, he is ſuch a one, and of the number of thoſe Religious mē, who haue no will to practiſe either Humility or Mortification. The poore man, who knoweth his own need and neceſſity, taketh willingly the almes of any one, whoſoeuer it be, that giueth it, be he maiſter or ſeruant, and humbly thanketh him for it: the very ſame doth euery Religious man, who hartily deſireth perfection, and loueth euery one, who helpeth him to the attayning therof.

9. Correction and reprehenſion is an act of Charity: and as Charity is common to all, ſo may euery one vſe a modeſt reprehenſion, and he who omitteth to do it, when he ought, and hath an hope of doing good by it, though he be not a Superiour, doth not well, & diſpleaſeth me alſo. How much then ſhall I be diſpleaſed, and how much greater ſhall that mans ſinne be, who knowing an imperfection of his brother, doth not only not admoniſh him touching it, but alſo commend •• h him for it, ſaying that he hath done very well, and that he did as he ſhould do, therby inducing an imperfect Religious man to become more bold, and to confirme himſelfe the more in his imperfection. And this we may affirme to be the peſtilent oyle of ſinners, wherof the Prophet ſpeaketh: and vnhappy is that Religious man, who hath his head annoynted therwith. I do my ſelfe the correction otherwhiles, and ſend inſpirations, to the end my ſeruants may by that occaſion find out and diſcouer their owne imperfections, and amend them: ſometymes againe I admoniſh them by ſome affliction or other, that they may enter into themſelues, and correct what is amiſſe: ſometymes I permit one whole order of Religion to be afflicted & perſecuted, that the negligent and bad Religious men, that are or may be in it, may become good, and the good better: but the end indeed is, that they haue a deſire to be holpen. They want not the helps, and meanes of doing well ſo much, as a firme reſolution to put thēſelues into a courſe of doing well, and to hold on the ſame, as they ought. My ſonne to differ and put that off till the morrow, that may profit thee to day, is not an argument or ſigne of a man well aduiſed. And the more thou ſhalt neglect to amend thy ſelfe, and to differ this happy reſolution, the more, and the greater will thy loſſe be.

MY ſonne, thou knoweſt well, that to pleaſe me, and to receiue a recompence from my hands, it is not inough to do a good work, but it muſt be done well. That one, for feare of offending me, ſtandeth vpon his gard, and endeauoreth to do all the beſt he can, this is to do prudently: neither muſt he thinke this to be a ſcruple but a filiall feare, a iuſt feare, and an holy and meritorious feare. They be ſcruples▪ when one is in his actions perplexed, and full of anxiety, without hauing any lawfull cauſe thereof, but only by light coniectures and ſuſpitions ill founded, and tha • he feares that he ſinneth in the thing tha • he doth, or that he hath done, or that he ought to do: whence it commeth, that he afflicteth himſelfe, and continueth altogeather troubled in mind. Theſe ſcruples▪ which be no other (to ſay truely) then vaine and fearefull imagi ations, diſpleaſe me very much, and be in the ſoule of him who is ſeazed and taken therewith, as it were with an hoate and burning feuer, which tormenteth him both night and day.

2. Wilt thou vnderſtand, my Sonne, in few words, what is the nature of ſcruples? when he, who is moleſted with them, retayneth them in mind, and ſtayeth vpon them, when he ſhould contemne them, they are vnto him as many ropes, by which the Diuell bindeth him, and draweth him which way he liſteth: but when he con • emneth them, he ſtandeth firme and ſtable, • nd the enemy hath no power ouer him at all.

3. Lord, theſe ſcruples diſpleaſe me: I deſire nothing more, then to be rid of them, but it is not in my power. I know right well, my Sonne, that it exceedeth thy power to ſhake of the ſcruples that ariſe of a melancholy complexion, & which continue as long, as continueth the cauſe whereof they proceed, and that is the melancholy humour it ſelfe. Againe thou art as litle able to free thy ſelfe from thoſe ſcruples, that I ſend thee, or permit thee to fall into, to the end thou mayſt enter into a true knowledge of thy ſelfe, or for the hū bling of thee, or for the better purging of thy ſoule, or for thy greater merit: for as I ſend theſe ſcruples, ſo it is in me to remoue them, and I take them away, when it beſt pleaſeth me. But thou mayſt well (aſſiſted with my grace) eaſe thy ſelfe of thoſe ſcruples, that haue their beginning of proper loue, when by occaſion of the ouer great affection to thy ſelfe thou becomeſt ouer anxious, and art more afraid, then thou ſhouldſt, leaſt ſome inconuenience, impediment may befall thee, for the d • ing of what thou haſt, or oughtſt to do The good Religious man ought to be ci • cumſpect, and haue an eye to himſelfe, y •• rather by a deſire to pleaſe me, then for fea • of any trouble, or paine to himſelfe. In li •• manner it is in thyne owne power to di • charge thy ſelfe of theſe ſcruples, that a • occaſioned by the ſuggeſtiō of the enemy, the end thou mayſt be there afraid, whe • no cauſe is of feare at all: and theſe ſcrupl • be nothing els, but a vaine apprehenſio • proceeding from meere fancy.

4. O how much domage do ſcrupl • cauſe, and how much good do they hinde • For firſt they depriue the perſon, who moleſted with them, of that inward peac • which euery one ought ſo much to deſir • ſeeing without it a man can neither hau • any true deuotion, no do any meritorio •• act. And more then this, they marre, an • ouerthrow the complexion of nature, an • trouble the humours of the body: whence hath hapned, that many by ſuch ſcruples haue broken their braynes, and ſome hau • made themſelues vnprofitable both fo • themſelues, and for Religion. Scruple cauſe a man to looſe his tyme, that migh • otherwiſe be imployed in profitable things and in good workes. For how much tyme doth a ſcrupulous man looſe in ſaying one prayer, or in reading of a pſalme? He beginneth againe and againe, he repeateth what he hath formerly ſayd, and neuer maketh an end, and which is worſe, when he hath all done, he remaineth leſſe ſatisfyed, then he was at the very firſt: and if it happen, that notwithſtanding all this, he maketh no more repetitions, it is rather in regard of a certaine yrkſomenes, and loathing he findeth, then out of any perſwaſion to himſelfe, that he hath ſatisfyed what he ſhould do. Againe the ſcrupulous doth not only looſe his tyme himſelfe, but he further cauſeth the loſſe thereof to his Superiour, or to his Ghoſtly-father, with whome he conferreth touching his ſcruples, and if they yeald him the hearing, it will be long before he make an end, and the more a man condeſcendeth to a ſcrupulous perſon, the more and greater will be his hurt.

5. Scruples make the ſcrupulous man ſtiffe and obſtinate: for where a vayne feare of offending, and of not ſatisfying predominateth & beareth ouermuch ſway in him, thence it commeth, that he yealdeth not, nor obayeth very eaſily, and that he will not condeſcende to his Ghoſtly Father, or Superiour, & ſo he becommeth headſtrong, and euer retayneth theſe his ſcruples. Scruples cauſe the ſcrupulous man not to conſider his Creatour, as a good and louing Father, as he ſhould do, but as a ſeuere exactour, and a rigorous iudge of his actions: and this conſideration of his filleth him with ſo many vayne feares, and ſo great, as he ſeemeth to himſelfe to be already in the very torments of hell. My ſonne, thou doſt very iniuriouſly to deale with me in this ſort: I haue not created thee for thy damnation, but for the glory of heauen, and I deſire nothing els, but thy good, and thy ſaluation. I haue for the ſauing of thee endured a thouſand paynes & miſeryes all my life long, and therfore my will is, that thou bid adieu to this vaine feare, and that thou from henceforth conceiue of me, as of a good, and mercifull Father, deſirous of thy ſoules good.

6. And if thou haſt a deſire to rid thy ſelfe of this malady, and not be ſcrupulous, there be three thinges for thee neceſſary. The firſt is, that thou be not thyne owne phiſitian, and be reſolued to giue credit to thyne owne aduiſe and iudgment. A Phiſitian, be he neuer ſo learned, and experienced, is nothing fit to ordaine a medicine for himſefe, when he hath any ſicknes, and much leſſe ſhall the ſcrupulous man be fit: whoſe paſſion and imagination being ſtronger, and more vehement then any feuer, or paine or body, troubleth him in ſuch ſort, as it robbeth him of all his iudgment, and cauſeth him to ſee and take one thing for another.

7. The ſecond thing neceſſary, is, that thou follow the aduiſe of thy ſpiritual father, or of thy Superiour, though thou be otherwiſe of a contrary opinion. And to the end thou maiſt accommodate thy ſelfe with the more facility thereunto, thou muſt perſwade thy ſelfe, that I am he who gouerne the Religious in their ſcruples, and that I gouerne them by the mediation of their Superiours, and therefore thou muſt be perſwaded and hold for aſſured, that the counſaile, which they ſhall giue thee in thy ſcruples, commeth from me. And indeed I could not well deale with them in any other manner. For if the Religious man haue, out of a deſire to ſerue me, forſaken both parents & friends, very reaſonable it is, that I ſerue them alſo for father and mother, for kin and friends. If flying from the world, they haue caſt thē ſelues into my armes, reaſon it is, that I imbrace and receiue them, and ſerue them for their refuge. If they haue made their election to depend of me for the confirming of themſelues all in all to my will, meete it is, that I aſſiſt them with my direction, and counſaile, and that they admit it, as comming from me, what they ſhall aduiſe them in that behalfe.

8. The third thing that thou muſt obſerue, is, to obay thy ſayd ſpiritual Fathers; and to execute and do with a promptitude what they ſhall ſay, & this is ſo neceſſary; as if it be not kept, all the reſt will not profit thee a whit. For what would it help to ordayne a medicine, and further to be perſwaded, that it is preſcribed by an excellent Phiſitian, if the patient and infirme perſon will not vſe it? My ſonne, take heed of Sathan, who for the hindring of many of thy good workes ſeeketh to trouble thee with many ſcruples, and to fill thy head with infinite anxietyes, and vnſtayed and running thoughts. I know that he maketh thee anon to ſay, or thinke in thy mind, who knoweth whether my ſpirituall Father be not deceaued in commaunding me to do this, or leaue that? It may be, he hath not vnderſtood me, or that I haue not ſufficiently explicated my ſelfe. I am in doubt, whether this counſaile which he giueth me, be not rather to comfort me: and which is more, that in himſelfe he thinketh not, that I haue offended God, and that I ſhall be damned. All ſuch thoughts ariſe of a vaine and falſe feare cauſed by the enemy, who troubleth the water, for feare thou ſhouldſt ſee the truth. But ſeeſt thou not, that though thy ſpirituall Father ſhould deceiue thee, thou art not for all deceaued in obaying him, for that thou oughtſt to obay him in all thinges, where there is not apparence of any manifeſt ſinne. And more then that, to thinke that he hath not well vnderſtood thee, ought not to trouble thee, ſith it ought to be inough for thy ſatisfactiō, if he ſay, that he hath vnderſtood thee well: for thou art bound to beleeue him. In like ſort, to thinke, that thou haſt offended me by thy ſcruples, and that I will damne thee for them, is a thing, that muſt be far remoued from thy imagination. He that hath ſo many pledges and teſtimonyes of my loue and benignity, as thou haſt, hath a good occaſion to put his truſt in me. If thou haſt a firme purpoſe not to offend me, and rather to dye, then to commit a mortal ſinne, this being a true ſigne of thy ſaluation, and of my amity, wherefore feareſ • thou? And he who feareth this, is not afraid to offend me.

9. Neither muſt the deſire that tho • feeleſt in thy ſelfe, of making a generall cō feſſion, for feare, or doubt, that thou ha • not made it well, trouble thee. If thy ſpirituall Father iudge it neither neceſſary no • profitable, but rather domageable, thou muſt content thy ſelfe with that, which h • telleth thee, and obay him: for if ther • ſhould be any fault, it ſhould not be imputed vnto thee. For a man to repeate hi • confeſſion without neceſſity, is to multiply his ſcruples. The Confeſſour who yealdet • vnto the ſcrupulous, by his importunity what he ſhould not, doth not well diſcharge his office, and hurteth the ſcrupulous, a • being an occaſion by that means vnto him of more ſcropuloſity then before. For th • more, doubtles, is taken away in ſo doing the more do they ſtill entertaine & increaſ • the ſcruples: So to moue and turne the eart • without ſowing ſeed thereon, is to cauſ • that bad weeds ſpring vp in the place. Tel • me, when thou madſt thy laſt generall confeſſion, didſt thou not then ſatisfy thy conſcience? If thou ſayſt thou didſt, and tha • • he Prieſt gaue thee Abſolution of thy • innes, wherefore makeſt thou any doubt • ow, if thou didſt then confeſſe all? If • hou madſt thyne examine as thou oughſt? • f thou hadſt a ſufficient ſorrow for thy • innes? For a man may iudge better of his confeſſion then when he made it, then he can a long tyme after. If there had beene • ny default in it, thou ſhouldſt rather haue perceaued and found it out then, then now.

10. My ſonne, remember that it is long • hat thou haſt been troubled with ſcruples and that becauſe thou hadſt a will to gouerne thy ſelfe by thyne owne fancy, thou art not yet cured and eaſed of them, but findeſt thy ſelfe more diſquieted and troubled then euer before, and therefore euen human prudence would require, that thou ſhouldſt change the remedy, and that ſith thou art ſicke, thou be not a Phiſitian to thy ſelfe. And therefore thou muſt reſolue, that for the curing of thy ſcruples, the beſt remedy is to beleeue and obay thy ſpiritual Father. And in that thou muſt diligently take heed thou come not vnto him with a certaine artificiall skill, and an intention to draw him to thyne owne will by importunity, or otherwiſe: for that were euer to returne to the ſame, and to haue a will to be thyne owne phiſitian in thy ſcruples, and to procure to be gouerned by thy ſpirituall Father conformably to thyne owne fancy, wherein there ſhould be a double fault: for that beſides thyne, thou ſhouldſt cauſe thy ſpirituall Father, or Superiour to fayle in the diſcharge of his office. Thy ſpiritual Father is a meanes wherof I ſerue my ſelfe, and he is myne inſtrument, not thyne, and therefore he muſt be moued by me, and not by thee. The thing which appertaineth vnto thee to do, is to leaue him in his liberty, and conſidering him, as one who holdeth my place, to haue an hope, that by meanes of him I will not fayle to direct thee for thy greateſt good.

MY ſonne, I ſee thee ouer diligent and curious in ſearching out the knowledge of noueltyes and ſtrang things of the world, wherein thou giueſt to vnderſtand, that thou haſt not yet giuen ouer thy affectiō & loue to it, in ſo much as thou art not yet wholy dead vnto it. If thou haſt ſo abandoned it, as thou ſhouldſt not haue any thing to do with it, whence is it that curioſity maketh thee to inquire after what is therein done, and what is ſayd and paſſeth? What haſt thou to know and vnderſtand that, which concerneth thee not, and that bringeth not any good to thy ſoule, but domage rather? Thou haſt more then often tryed, that the news of the world which thou haſt heard, occurreth to thy mind in thy prayer, in the tyme of Maſſe, and other good exerciſes. How much better courſe did thoſe good Hermites take, who becauſe they might not vnderſtand, or know what paſſed in the world, withdrew themſelues into the wildernes, and there hid themſelues in holes vnder the ground?

2. Curioſity, ſith it is an inordinate deſire to know, is reprehenſible, & repugnant to the rule of right reaſon, but much worſe is the roote whence it commeth. If a Religious perſon were well affected to matters diuine and ſpiritual, he would not be curious to ſearch into thinges humane, that touch him not at all. Curioſity ordinarily ariſeth of the little affection, that men haue to the works of vertue, and therfore it greatly importeth the Religious mā at all tymes to haue imployement in ſome profitable and commendable thing or other, though the ſame be not inough to withdraw him wholy from curioſity. Fo • as it is attractiue, it cauſeth a man oftentimes to leaue euen profitable occupations, and therfore the Religious muſt not only buſy himſelfe in things of profit, and ſuch as agree with his profeſſion, but alſo apply his mind and affection therunto, and ſo doing he ſhall ſhut vp? he dore againſt a • curioſity, and therewithall free himſelfe from many diſquiets and troubles of mind. But when curioſity is in the Religious man accompanyed with idlenes, or light imployments, then ſhe keepeth holy day, becauſe ſhe well knoweth how to find entrance, when ſhe liſteth, being the property of idlenes to ſet open both his dores and windowes: & ſhe no ſooner getteth in, but that ſhe forthwith ſetteth the ſenſes at liberty, which be her meſſengers, and ſendeth them forth to ſearch out noueltyes, o • which ſhe afterwards cauſeth the inward powers of the ſoule to reflect, and to buyld their iudgments, and caſtles in the ayre wherby it appeareth, how much curioſity is repugnant to the Religious ſtate, which requireth that all the ſenſes be brought in ſubiection and mortifyed, and that they haue not the liberty to wander where they ſhould not, and when it appertaineth vnto reaſon to guide, and direct them, and not curioſity.

3. Marke my ſonne, the craft and policy of Sathan, whereby he induceth the Religious man to open the gate of curioſity. Firſt he putteth in his thoughts, that it is good for him to vnderſtand the diſaſters & tēpeſts of the world, to the end he may render vnto me the more condigne thanks for hauing a brought him into the quiet & ſafe harbour of Religion: and to the end, that hauing a better & more perfect knowledge of the ſiniſter, and miſerable euents of the world, he may the better vnderſtand the felicity of the ſtate whereunto he is called, and from how many troubles and dangers he is deliuered: finally to the end, ſayth he, he may haue a compaſſion, and be moued to pray for the poore of the world, who are ſo ſore oppreſſed, and afflicted in the world, as euery good Religious man is bound to do. But to take all this at the beſt, it is nothing els, but to deceiue vnder the apparence of good: and what is of it ſelfe vicious and bad, cannot be a meanes to the producing and doing of good workes. Therefore curioſity being a ſinne, it is nothing conuenient to make vſe of it for t • doing of good. And my Apoſtle hath pla • nely and expreſly ſayd, that no euill is eu •• to be done vnder the hope and pretence 〈◊〉 any good. But that which the Diue •• pretendeth, is to induce the Religious ma • to affect and giue himſelfe to curioſity knowing right well (as he is wylie, an • crafty) that hauing once drawne him t • curioſity, he will neuer compoſe himſelf • neither to the exerciſe of the ſayd goo • works, nor of any other. And in this lyet • his deceit, to make ſhew to haue a will t • induce thee to the doing of good, to th • end he may go away with the victory t • thy domage and loſſe.

4. A iuſt man muſt euer hold the lou • and beneuolence of an enemy ſuſpected: • for the rendring of thankes vnto God fo • the happy ſtate of Religion, and prayin • for thoſe of the world, is it not neceſſary t • enquire curiouſly about that which paſ • ſeth in the world. For without it a ma • knoweth inough touching the ſtormes, & miſeryes that the poore ſecular perſons endure: for as much as ſuch miſeryes bega • not to day, but haue been heretofore, an • ſhall alway be. And more then this, Religion hath ſo many gifts, priuiledges an • ••• ces, as of it ſelfe it giueth a ſufficient •• owledge thereof, without neceſſity, for • e attayning & getting of ſuch knowledg enquire curiouſly about the news, and • iſeryes of the world.

5. Harken my ſonne, now to another •• ceite, wherof Sathan ſerueth himſelfe by • eanes of curioſity. In the beginning he contented, that the curious looſe his time 〈◊〉 reading, or hearing read vaine and cu •• ous bookes, in vnderſtanding the news •• at paſſe in forraine countryes that touch • im nothing at all, in hauing I know not • hat faire and curious thing, and the like, • ut he ſtayeth not there. For paſſing fur • her, he laboureth to induce and draw him 〈◊〉 know, & ſee what is not lawfull, & euen •• at wherin there is danger, be it a thing • hat prouoketh to the ſinnes of hatred, re • enge, or impurity, and in fine he ſeeketh 〈◊〉 moue him to do all openly without any • hadow or pretenſe at all. And this is • hen, when the curious perſon, for the vn • erſtanding of ſecret and hidden things demaundeth and enquireth them of the Di • ell, or of ſome other who hath commerce with him. And what good doctrine can • ne learne of the Father of lies? Or what • ruite or learning can be drawne or gotten out of ſo vnhappy a ſchoole?

6. Curioſity is a vice, which cannot ſ • be eaſily ſhaken off, as a man would thinke The elder a man is, the more increaſeth hi • curioſity, and thence it is, that a man is neuer weary in hearing of news. Curioſity • that moueth a man to enquire of another • affayres, cauſeth him to forget his owne • and himſelfe alſo: & he who runneth to the houſes of others, and leaueth his owne, i • in danger at his returne not to find all that he left at his going forth. The curioſity, that prouoketh the ſenſes to faſten themſelues vpon curious & impertinent things, maketh the curious to ſtumble and fall, & that oftentymes very fowly. Who is apt to fall of himſelfe, he will fall much more eaſily, being thruſt by another. And ſith man • nature is ſo debilitated by ſinne, as we ſee, & experiēce in our ſelus, the very leaſt occaſiō, as may be this of curioſity, is inough to precipitate it. My ſonne, haſt thou a deſire, that curioſity ſhould not giue thee any occaſion of ruine by thy ſenſes? Let there not on thy part any occaſion be giuen of abuſing them. For if thou ſerueſt thee of thy ſenſes for thy pleaſure only, and not for neceſſity, or for profit, it will be an inuitation to curioſity, and an occaſion vnto it of abuſing them in vanityes. If thou lend thy •• aring to all, and lookeſt vpon all that •• mmeth in thy mind, who ſeeth not, that • o • o do is to put the bridle of thy ſenſes in • o curioſityes hands, that it may turne and wind them which way it pleaſeth? Haue • care to thy ſenſes if thou deſire, that they • hould be ſollicitous to preſerue and keep • hy hart from all vanity.