Plutarch to Paccius health, &c.

I Receaued your letter verie lately, wherin you desire mee to write some thing vn­to you cocerning the quietnes of the mind, and with all, touching certaine places of Platoes Timaeus, which seeme needfull of a most diligent expo­sition. It chaunced at the same time, that Eros our familiar friend had occasion to saile with speede towards Rome, about certaine letters which hee had receiued of the most vertuous gentleman Funda­nus: who therein was verie earnest to haue him depart forth with, and to come vnto him. So wanting sufficient time to [Page] emploie in the matter, which you desi­red, and vnwilling, that he departing from mee, should come vnto you with emptie handes: I haue drawne togither summarily out of notes, and remembran­ces (which I had long since collected for mine owne priuate vse) certaine senten­ces touching the tranquillitie of the mind, perswading my self that you haue not required this discourse, to the ende that you might take pleasure in reading a treatise well and eloquentlie written, but onely to serue you at need, knowing verie well, that to get the fauour of great men, and to be reported a good speaker, and as eloquent a pleader of causes in the Pallace, as anie one in Rome: you do not for al this, as Merops the Tragedi­an, who wearieth & consumeth himselfe with vainglorie to please the humour of the popular sort (which therfore wor­thily account you happie:) but I doubt not that you keepe wel in memoric the speach which you haue oft times heard me vse, that neither a noblemans shoe healeth the gout in the foot, nor a preci­ous [Page] ring, the crampe in the finger, nor a Diadem, the paine in the head. For how serueth store of wealth, great honors, or credit in Court, to free the minde from trouble, and to make a mans life peacea­ble, if ( That) be not within, which can Reason. vse it vertuouslie, and if it be not alwaies accompanied with contentment, which neuer wisheth that it hath not. And what other thing is That, but onely rea­son, accustomed & exercised in bridling straightwaies the vnreasonable part of the minde, which easily, and oft times passeth hir bowndes, so that it cannot wander abroad at hir owne pleasure, nor be carried about after hir own appetites. Wherefore as Xenophon doth warne men to be mindfull of the gods, and to wor­ship them, especiallie when they are in prosperitie, to the ende, that in time of necessitie they may be more assured to reclaime them, as hauing bin long be­fore fauourable and frendlie vnto them: So ought wise, and discreete men to make prouision of reasons, which may serue to defend them against passions, so [Page] that hauing them prepared before hand, they may be more auaileable, whē need requireth. For euen as dogges which are fierce by nature do grin and barke at euerie straunge noise they heare, and are not appeased, but with the sownd of that voice which is familiar vnto them, and with which they are acquainted: So is it not an easie matter, to bring back to reason, the wilde wandering passions of the minde, vnlesse we haue a fit, and familiar bridle at hand, that may checke them, as soone as they begin to stirre.

As for them, which say, that if wee would liue quietlie, we should not deale with manie matters either priuate, or publick: First I say that they would sel vs this tranquillitie too deerlie, which will Idlenes. haue vs buy it with the price of idlenes, which is as much, as if they should warne euery man, as being sicke, euen as Ele­ctra doth her brother Orestes.

But this were an ill medicine for the bodie, which to case the paine thereof must take away the feeling: neither is [Page] he a better Phisition for the minde, who to take all disquiet from it, would make it idle, effeminate, forgetfull of all dutie towards friends, kindred and countrey.

Wee see then it is vntrue that their mindes are setled, and quiet, which en­termedle not with manie matters. For if it were so, then must we say, that women liue more contented, and lesse troubled than men, considering that for the most part they stirre not out of the house. But verie true it is, as the Poet Hesiodus saith.

But greefes, cares, vexations, and discontentments, be it through iealousy­superstition, ambition, or proceeding from vaine opinions, and conceites, that 3 especiall causes of womens discon­tentment. are almost innumerable, do easilie rush euen into Ladies closets, and bedcham­bers. And Laertes, which liued solita­rilie in the countrie for the space of twentie yeares.

Albeit he separated himselfe far from his countrie, from his house, and king­dome, yet he alwaies carried griefe, and sadnes in his hart, which are euer ac­companied with idle discontentment, and pensiue silence.

Moreouer there are some which say, that not to bee emploied in affaires is oft times cause of displeasure, and the disquiet of a mans minde, As appeareth by the discontented Greeke, whom Ho­mer describeth.

Wherupon himselfe being passionate and vexed in minde sayth a litle after that.

In so much that Epicurus himselfe is of opinion that a man ought not to con­tinue still, doing nothing, but that eue­rie man should followe the inclination of his owne nature, as the ambitious, and desirous of Honour to deale with publicke affaires, and to entermeddle with the gouernment of the common wealth, saying that otherwise in doing nothing they should be more troubled, & disquieted, because they could not ob­taine [Page] that which they desired. But herein he is of a bad iudgement in calling to the gouernment of the state, not those men, which are most fit for the place, but such as can least giue themselues to case, and rest. Howbeit we ought not to measure or determine the quiet or disquiet of the mind by the great or small number of matters, but by the good or bad handling of them. For (as we haue alreadie said) it is no lesse troblesome, nor lesse offen­siue to the minde, to omit that which is good, then commit that which is ill. And as for them which thinke that there is as­suredlie a certaine speciall kinde of life without anie discontentment, as some hold the life of labouring me, to be some, the life of yong men to be married, and some the life of Kinges: Menander an­swereth them sufficientlie in these ver­ses.

But afterward, looking neerer into their state, and perceauing that the rich liued as much discontented as the poore he saith.

But this is, euen as those that are fear­full, The cause of discon­tentmet in our selues. and sick vpon the seas, which thinke to ease, and cure them selues in passing, out of a Barke into a Brigandine, and out [Page] of a Brigandine into a Galley: And yet they gaine nothing thereby, for so much as they alwaies carrie with them the hu­mor, and feare, which causeth their sick­nes: Euen so alteration in the kindes of life dooth not take away the greefes and vexations, that trouble the quiet of minde; which greefes proceed partlie of want of experience in matters, part­ly of lacke of good conference, and ad­uise, & partly of default of knowledg; & discretion to apply our selues to our pre­sent estate. This is it, which disquieteth as well the riche, as the poore. This is it, which troubleth as well the married, as the vnmaried. This is the cause, that ma­nie doo flie the pallace, and please please in courtes. And yet for all this, they cannot brooke quietnes, or giue themselues to rest, by reason they desire, and seeke to be a duanced, and to haue great places in Princes courtes, which when they haue once obtained sodainely they become weary of them.

Hard is it to content the man that's sicke. The mind neuer con tented. So saith Ion the Poet: for his wife dis­pleaseth [Page] him. He accuseth the Phisition. Hee is angrie with his bed, some one of his friendes offendeth him, because hee commeth to visite him, another because he commeth not, or being come for that he will needes depart. But afterwardes when the disease decreaseth, and that there commeth an other temperature, & disposition of body: then health retur­neth againe, which maketh all thinges pleasing, and delightful. So that he, which of late, nay, but yesterdaie refused with loathing, and abhorred egs, fine cheat, & the whitest manchet that might be got: this day falleth to brown houshold bred, with oliues, and water cresses, euen sa­uourly, and with a good stomacke. Euen Reason changeth affections so the iudgement of reason comming to forme it selfe in mans vnderstanding, bringeth with it the like facility, and the very same chaunge in euery kind of life. They say, that Alexander hauing heard Alexan­ders am­bition. Anaxarchus the Philosopher dispute and maintaine in argument, that there were innumerable worldes, began to weepe: And beeing asked what reason hee had [Page] so to doo, answered saying: haue I not great cause, to weepe, if the number of worlds be infinite, seeing that I cannot yet make my selfe lord of one alone? Crates cō ­tentment. Wheras Crates hauing for al his wealth but one olde ill-fauored, ragged cloake, and a patched scrippe did nothing al his life long but sport, and laugh, as if he had alwaies beene at a feast. Contrariwise, Agamemnon complained for that he had Agamem­nons com­plaint. such a great world to commaund.

Whereas Diogenes, when they solde him for a slaue lying all along vpon the Diogenes carelesnes ground, mocked the crier that sold him, and would not rise vp, when hee com­maunded him, but sported and iested with him saying. And if thou shouldst sel Socrates pacience. a fish wouldest thou make it rise vp? And Socrates beeing in prison vsed familiar conference in discoursing of matters of [...]ilosophie: whereas Phaeton beeing mounted vp to heauen yet wept for des­pite, that they would not let him rule, & [Page] gouerne the horses, and Chariot of the Phaetons impaci­ence. Sun his father. Euen as the shoe becom­meth crooked according to the deformi­tie of the foote, and not otherwise.

: So is it the humors of men, which make their liues alike, and conformable to their dispositiōs. For it is not custome (as one would haue it) which maketh a good life pleasant to them, which haue Wisdom, and Tem­perance causeth a good and pleasant life. chosen it: but wisdome, and temperance are the things, which make our life good and pleasaunt withal. And therefore sith the spring head of all quietnes of minde resteth in our selues, let vs looke vnto it, and diligently cleanse it, to the end, that those chaunces, which shall befall vs in outward thinges, may seeme pleasing, & familiar vnto vs, when wee are well ac­quainted with them and can make vse of them.

[Page] For Plato compareth our life to Ta­ble Our life is compared by Plato to Table play. play, wher the Dye must shew the cast and the gamster must content himselfe with his chaunce. Now touching these two points, the euent, and hazard of the Dye are not in our power, but pa­tiently, and moderately to take in good part, whatsoeuer it shall please fortune to send, and to dispose euerie thing in such place, as it may helpe much, if it be good, or hurt litle if it be bad, this is in ourpower to do, & this we ought to do, if we be wise. For fooles, that are slaues Foolish men know not how to vse either prosperity or aduersi­ty. to their affections, which knowe not how to behaue themselues in this hu­man life do presumptuously rush out of their boundes in prosperity, and ti­merously mure vp themselues in aduer­sitie. So that they are troubled with both extremities, or (to say more truely) with Goods themselues in both extremities, & prin­cipally in that which they call Goods, as Theodo­rus. those men who being sicke are vnable to endure either heat or cold. Theodorus that for the il opinions he held, was sur­named Atheos, which is without God or (godlesse) [Page] vsed to saie that he deliuered his discourses to his Auditors with the right hande, but that they receiued them with the left; euen so simple, and ignorant men which know not how to liue, entertaining oftimes with the left hand, the fortune, which commeth to Error in mistaking fortune. them on the right, commit thereby ma­ny grosse, and absurd enormities. But on the contrary part wise men like Bees that suck hunnie out of Time a rough, and dry herb do draw some good, and profitable thing for thēselues euen out of the worst, and most troblesome acci­dents that befall them. This then is the first point wherein we must bee trained and exercised: as hee which ayming to hit a Dog with a stone misseth the Dog, and striketh his stepmother; and yet Fortune to be ap­plyed by will to e­uery acci­dent. saith, it falleth not out ill: (euen so may we transfer our fortune by our will, and apply it to that, which she bringeth vn­to vs. Diogenes was driuen out of his countrie into exile, yet went it not ill with him, for that his banishment was the first beginning of his study in Philo­sophy: [Page] Zeno the Citiei an had once a Zeno. marchants ship, and hauing newes, that it was cast awaic, & that the marchan­dise, and all were sunck into the bottom of the sea: Fortune (quoth he) thou dost well to make me fit for the long plaine robe, and the study of Philosophy. What letteth vs to follow thē herin? Thou hast bin deposed from some publicke office, or place of autority, which thou hadst in charge. Well, be it so: Thou shalt liue priuately in the coūtry vpon that, which thou hast. Thou did dest make suite to be entertained into the house and seruice of some Prince or noble man. Thou hast had the repulse, well, thou shalt liue at home with thy selfe, and that with lesse paine, and lesse daunger.

Contrarywise thou art entred into dealings with matters of state, wherein is much paine, and great care. The hot water of the bath doth not so much com fort the wearied lims as Pindarus saith.

Art thou fallen into disgrace? or hast thou receiued some priuie back blow by enuy, or ill report? This is a good wind in the Poupe of thy shippe to turne thee straite to the study of learning, and phi­losophie, as Plato was, whē he had made Plato shipwracke of the good fauour of Dyo­nisius the tyrant.

And now it is a meane of no small im­portaunce The state of great men to be considered by the meaner sort. for the setling of the minde in quiet, to consider the state of great men, and to see if they be mooued, and troubled with the like accidents. As for example. The cause of thy discontent­ment, is, for that thou canst haue no chil­dren by thy wife. Looke how manie Ro­man Emperors there haue beene, wher­of not one left the Empire to his sonne. Art thou greeued because thou art pore? [Page] And which of the Thebans wouldst thou wishe to resemble rather, then Epami­nondas? or of the Romans, then Fabritius? Hath one defiled thy wife? Hast thou not red the inscription, which is set vp in the Temple of Apollo at Delphos, vpon an offering, which was there presen­ted?

And haue you not heard howe Al­cibiades Agis ho­nor not empared by his wiues ad­ultery. corrupted Timoea his wife, and howe shee her selfe amongest her wo­men called softelie the child which shee had by him, Alcibiades? But for all this her lewdnesse was no let, that Agis became not the greatest, and most famous man of all Greece in his time. Neither in like manner was the incontinencie of Stilpoes daughter an occasion that hee liued not as ioyful­lie, as anie other Philosopher of his time. So that when Metrocles the Cy­nick cast it in his teeth, hee sayd vn­to him, is this my fault or hers? Me­trocles [Page] aunswered: the faulte is hers, Stilpo not disquieted with his daughters incontinē ­cy. and the misfortune thine. Stilpo re­plied againe, howe so? Are not faultes vnhappie casualties? Yea sure­lie (quoth the other.) Then Stilpo goeth forward. And are not such casualties ill euentes? The other con­fessed it. And are not ill euentes mis­fortunes to them, on whō they chaunce to fall? By this sweete, and Philoso­phicall progression from point to point, hee shewed, and prooued that all his reproch, and malitious speech was no­thing else, but a dogs barking.

Againe on the other side the most part of men are troubled, and disquie­ted Most part of men troubled with their enemies vices. not onelie with the vices of theyr friends, acquaintance, and kindred, but also with their verie enemies misbeha­uiour. For ill companie, contention, enuy emulation, and ielousie accompanied with hate and disdaine, defile the minds of those men, which are possessed with these passions, notwithstanding they oft times vexe, and offend the vnwife: as the sodaine falling out of neighbors, the [Page] troublesome conuersation of familiars, the lewdnes of seruants in those things which are cōmited to their charge, with which thing you seeme to be moued, & trobled as much, as with any other mat­ter, doing therein as the phisitions, whō Sophocles describeth.

Fretting, and disquieting your selfe with their passions, and imperfections to small purpose in my opinion, for that those matters, whereof the gouerment is committed to your trust, are not ordi­narily handled by entercourse of per­sons of simple and good behauiour as by fit, and pliable instruments but oftē ­times by rough & crooked tooles: Now No stri­uing a­gainst na­ture. think not that it is your duety or a thing easy to be done by altering the forme to amend them, but if in vsing them, as beeing borne such as you finde them, euen as Surgeons do, their hooked instru­ments, wherewith they close the ga­ping of wounds, you shew your selfe gracious and tractable, as the case re­quireth, [Page] surely you shall reape not so much displeasure, and discontentment at their lewdnes, as pleasure, and con­tentment at your own disposition. And thinking that such substitutes, and ser­uants doe that which is their propertie and nature as Dogs, when they barke, you shal keepe your selfe from heaping vp more greefes, and vexations, which vse to distill into the mindes of pul­ling, & faintharted men, as into a pit (or low place) that is filled vp with an other mans inconuenience and mishap. For seeing that their are certaine Philoso­phers, Miserable men to be helped, not lamen ted for. which reproue the pitie and cō ­passion, which some take of miserable, and distressed men, as being a very good thing to helpe them in their misery, and calamity, but not to greeue, or suffer with thē, or once to be moued with thē: And (more then this) seeing that the same Philosophers woulde not that we should be sorie, or disquieted, if we per­ceiue our selues to offend, or to be giuē to any vice but that wee should correct, and amend it, without greeuing or trou­bling [Page] our selues otherwise, considering what small reason there is to be sorie, or discontented, for that all those, which haue to doe with vs, and which keepe company with vs are not so ho­nest and vertuous, as they ought to be. But let vs take heede (friend Paccius) that this proceede not so much of the hate of vice in generall, as of the loue of our selues in particular, which maketh vs feare, and dislike the ill dealing of those men, with whom we are conuer­sant. For sometimes affecting too much the state of gouernmēt & publick affairs desiring and haunting after them more hotely then is fit, or contrarie wise ha­uing at all no tast of them, or making no account of them this engendreth in vs suspition, both of impatience and discontentment against those persons, which make vs misconceiue and imagin that they haue depriued vs of this com­modity or made vs fal into that incōue­nience. But he that is accustomed to be­haue himselfe temperatelie, and indif­ferentlie in common affaires, is thereby [Page] more gracious, fit and conformable to deale with men in the world. And ther­fore let vs againe finde fault, and blame these dealings in matters, and busines? For euen as hee that is sicke of a feuer findeth all things that he taketh displea­sing to his tast, and bitter, but when we see others which tasting thereof find thē nothing vnsauory, or vnpleasāt, then we blame no more either the broth or the meate, but onely the disease: Euen so shall we cease to àccuse, and take these matters greeuouslie, or impatiently, whē we shall see other men taking them in hand cheerefullie, & ioyfullie. Wherfore whē any crosse accident shal befall vs a­gainst our will it shall bee good for the The re­mem­brance of our good for­tune past must coun teruaile our pre­sent mis­hap. surer seating of the mind in quiet not to cast behind vs our good, and fortunate chaunces, but tēpering the one with the other to deface and darken our ill haps, by comparing them with our good. But in opposing the one against the other let vs refresh and comfort our eies, beeing offended with the sight of too liuelie, & glittering colors, by casting them vpon [Page] naturall flowers and the greene grasse.

And let vs employ our imagination to matters of greefe, and trouble, enfor­cing it to rest and continue in the me­ditatiō of our aduerse & sorowful chan­ces, pulling it vp forcibly by the roots (as I may saie) from the remembrance of our good & prosperous haps, where­vnto you may verie fitlie transferre the discourse which in another place was made against the Curious man what is Another treatise written by Plutarch in his Mo­ralls. the cause, O most enuious man, that thine eies are so bright and percing in vewing other mens euills (and so dull, and darkned in beholding, thine owne? And wherefore is it good Sir, that thou lookest so stedfastlie vpon thy mishaps in making them alwaies manifest, and fresh in memorie, and neuer applyest thy thoughts to the good things which thou presetly enioyest, but euen as the Cup­ping, & scarifying instrumēts which chi­rurgions vse, do draw vnto thē the cor­ruption, that is in the flesh: euen so dost thou heape vp against thy selfe all the worst that is in thy selfe verie fitly re­sembling [Page] the marchant of Chium, who sel­ling to other men great store of good wine, went euery where seeking and ta­sting to get viniger for his own dinner. So ther was a seruant, who being asked what hee left his Master doing, answe­red; hauing much good hee seeketh that which is ill. Euen so the most part of men superficially passing ouer the good and profitable things, which they haue, do tie themselues to things troblesome, and offensiue. But Aristippus did not so: Aristippus disposition for hee was alwaies disposed to cheere himselfe and to alledge reasons to that end, whensoeuer anie vnlooked for mis­hap did befall him, placing himselfe in that ballance, which was carried vpward so that one day by casualtie hauing bin dispossessed of a good peece of groūd, he went to one of his familiar friends, who seemed to make most shew to bee gree­ued and to bee sorie for him, and saide hast not thou onely one litle farme? and haue not I three other goodly plots of ground? The other affirmed that it was so, wherefore then is it not reason to be [Page] sorie with thee rather then with me. For it is a madnes to greeue for that which we haue not, and not to reioyce for that which we haue, but to doe, as little chil­dren vse, from whō if a mā take but one of their little toyes, that they play with­al, though they haue neuer so many: yet in anger and dispite they cast away and break al the rest, & then howle, & crie a maine. In like case if fortune trouble vs in anie one thing, we make al the fauors that she doth vs in other matters vaine, and vnprofitable, by reason of our com­plaining, & tormenting our selues. Some man will say vnto mee, what haue wee? Nay, wee ought rather to say, what Euery man hath some thing for which hee ought to be thank­full. haue we not? One man hath honour, an­other, a faire house, this man a vertuous wife, and that, a faithfull friend. Antipa­ter the Philosopher, borne in the towne of Tharsus drawing neere his ende, and calling to remembraunce the good, and happy turnes, that had chaunced to him in his life, forgat not to place and count amongst the rest, his fortunate voyage in comming from Cilicia to Athens. And [Page] yet we ought not to omit, or let passe euen those things which are common to vs with most, or all men, but to esteeme and make some account of them, as to reioice for that wee liue, that wee are healthfull, and well disposed, that we see the Sun, that there is no warre, that there Common benefits not to be neglected. is no sedition, but that the earth yeel­deth to the plough, that the sea is na­uigable without daunger to him that will passe, that it is lawfull to speake, and to bee silent, to deale in matters, The want of good things ma­keth them more e­steemed & desired. and to giue our selues to rest. And here­by wee shall enioie the contentment of minde more assured, if hauing those common benefits aboue recited, wee imagine that wee haue them not, re­membring oftentimes howe much health is lamented, and wished for of those that are sicke, and peace of them that are afflicted with warres, and what a happye thing to bee desired it is, for a straunger vnknowne in such a towne to get so great authoritie, & such friendes, and contrariwise what a greefe it is to loose them, after a man hath got [Page] them. Whereby we see that a thing can­not be of great price when we loose it, and of no valewe when we enioy it. For the want of it encreaseth neither the price nor valewe. Neither should wee possesse these things, as matters of great waight in trembling alwaies for feare to loose them, and to be depriued of them, The feare of loosing them ta­keth away the plea­sure of en­ioying thē. and in the meane while, when wee haue them at will, to forget and set nought by them, as things of small importaunce: but to vse them, while we haue them, & to take pleasure in enioying them, to the ende that if wee chaunce to loose them, we may take the losse more patientlie. But the greatest number of men are of opinion, as Arcesilaus said, that we ought to follow with our eye, and thoroughlie peruse the poems, tables, pictures, and i­mages of other men, to behold, and sur­uaie them particularlie from point to point, from one end to another; but as for their liues, & behauior wherin there are manie deformities to be seen we glaunce thē ouer in regarding onely the outward shew of honors, aduancement, & other [Page] mensfortunes, as adulterers do vpō other mens wiues in setting nought by their own. And now it is a pointe of great im­portaunce for the quiet, & contentment of our mindes, that euery man should The consi­deration of a mans owne selfe and estate very neces sary. consider principallie himselfe, his estate, and condition, or at least to behold them that are aboue him, not as many men do that cōpare themselues with their supe­riors, as for example the slaues, that are boūd, accoūt thē happy that are vnboūd the vnbound, the freemen: the freemen, the citizens: the meane citizens: the rich burgesses, the riche burgesses, the great Lords, & Princes: the Princes, the Kings the Kings, finallie the Gods, desiring (in The desire of that we haue not taketh a­waie the pleasure of the en­ioying that we haue. a manner) that they were able to thun­der, and lighten. And by this meane be­ing alwaies needie, and desirous of that which is aboue them, they neuer enioie the pleasure of that, which is in them ( which they haue inpossession.)

It was a Thrasian woman that said this. But some other either of Chium, Ga­latia, or Bythinia, wil not content himself with his allotted part, and portion of ho­nor, credit, and authoritie in his Country amongst his Countrymen, but wil whine and mourne if he beare not the habit of a Senatour or one of the Nobilitie, and if he bee by election aduanced thereunto: then if he be not a Roman Prator, and if he be once a Praetor, then forsooth if he be not Consul, and if he be Consul, then if Defire of aduance­ment ma­keth men disconten­ted. hee were not the first proclaimed. And what other thing is this but to heape vp affected and desired occasions of ingra­titude against fortune to our owne sor­row, punishment, and affliction. But a wise, sensible, and discrete man if there [Page] bee one amongst so many millions of men which see the Sunne.

That is, either more Honorable, or more wealthy then himselfe, he doth not therefore strait waies withdraw himself from company, weeping, lamenting, and giuing ouer all, but keepeth on his way blessing and thanking Fortune, in that hee liueth more honorably, and more at ease then millions of others. For true it is that at the solemne assembly for the games of Olympus, the gamesters doe not of purpose choose those men to encoun­ter with, of whom they may bee assured to winne the prise; but in the life of man the affaires thereof are so ordered that they giue vs occasion to boast and vaunt our selues, to be aboue many men, and to bee enuied, rather than to enuie others, vnlesse peraduenture some one bee so presumptuous to make himselfe a Para­gon, for a Briareus, or a Hercules. When therefore thou shalt haue much estee­med as a great Lorde some man whom [Page] thou shalt see carried to his pallace in a litter betweene mens armes, cast downe thine eies a little, and beholde the same man carried vpon mens shoulders to his long home. And after thou hast admired the happines of the great king Xerxes for passing the strait of Hellespont vpon a bridge of ships, consider also those men which were forced with blowes and stripes to cut & make the mount Athos hollow, and those men whose eares and noses were cut off, when the tempest had scattered & broken the saide bridge of shippes. And withall imagine in thy selse what they thinke and howe blessed they account thy life, & condition in res­pect of theirs? Socrates (hearing a famili­ar friend of his say. This towne is marue­louslie deare: The wine of Chium costeth ten crownes, purple cloth thirtie, a mea­sure of honnie fiue groates) taketh him and leadeth him to the shoppes, where Things necessary easely gotten. they solde halfe a pecke of meale for a halfepenie (good cheape:) and then to the place where oliues were sold, a peck for three farthings, (good cheape:) after [Page] that to the Drapery, where they sold ap­parrell, (a Coat for ten groates) good cheape. You see then (saith hee) some­thing good cheape in the towne. Euen so when wee shall heare some one saie, that our estate is meane and our fortune base for that we are not Consuls or Presi­dents of Prouinces: We may answere, but by your leaue Sir, our estate is honorable and our life happie in that we begge no almes, nor carrie burthens, nor gette our liuing by flatterie. But notwithstan­ding, sith for the most part wee are be­come so foolish that we vse to liue to o­thers, rather than to our selues, and that our nature is corrupted with such a pu­ling Error of conceit by reason of the out­ward shew maketh men think others es­tate better then their owne. iealousie, and infected with so great enuie, that it doth not so much reioice at hir owne good, as it repineth at other mens: let vs not onely behold, and mark that which is glorious, glittering and renowmed in those whom we wonder at, and whom wee esteeme so fortunate: but abasing our selues, vnderpeering and discouering a little the counterfeit cur­taine, and shadowed vaile of apparance, [Page] and opinion which is spread ouer them, let vs enter into them, and there doubt­les shall we find great toile, many griefs, and much vexation. By reason whereof Pittacus pa [...]ience. Pittacus that man so famous, and renow­med for his valure, wisedome, & iustice, feasting one day certaine of his friendes being strangers: his wife commeth in a­bout the midst of the feast, and being dis­pleased A part of a curst, & madbrain shrew. therewith, ouerturned the table and all that was vppon it. The strangers were all ashamed and abashed thereat; himselfe made no other matter of it but onely said. There is none of vs, that hath not in himselfe some default: But as for me I haue but this onelie point ( my wiues headstrong humor) which letteth me from being in all thinges entirelie most happie.

Many such harsh and bitter discon­tentments are there hid in the hartes of those that are rich, and placed in aucto­ritie, The pomp of Prin­ces hideth their tro­bles from the sight of priuate men. yea euen in the mindes of kinges, which the common sort knoweth not, for so much as the pompe and outward shew couereth them.

All this is but a recital of his outward happines, by reason of the armour, hor­ses, and soldiers, that he had about him. But the lamcntable voice of his passions proceeding from within, doth falsifie that vaine opinion when he saith,

And this other saying:

By such like meditations we may qua­lifie, and draw somewhat from our con­tinual cries & cōplaints against Fortune, whereby we debase and condemne our owne condition, in praising and com­mending the state of other men. But there is another matter which hindereth the quiet of the minde, as much as any thing els, which is, when the prickes and spurres of wil, and desire in men are vn­measurable, and disproportionable to Will their power, as when men set vp grea­ter Mens folly to be bla­med ra­ther then their for­tune in de­siring things a­boue their reach and attemp­ting things imposible. sailes than their ships will beare, pro­mising themselues in their reasonles de­sires, and vaine hopes more, than they ought. And in the end when they see, that they cannot compasse them, then they blame Fortune, and accuse their destinie and not their follie; For neither he which cannot draw an arrow with a plough or course a Hare with an Oxe [Page] may therefore terme himselfe vnhappie. nor he that would take a hart with a smal fish hooke can therefore complaine of his bad fortune as being therein contra­rie and against him, but well and wor­thily should he condemne his own rash­nes & follie, that would attempt things impossible. The principal cause of which error, is the foolish, and blinde loue of Selfe loue. our selues, which maketh men desire, the first, and highest places, and to bee wilfull in opinion, and vnmeasurablie wishing all things for themselues, being neuer satisfied, nor contented. For they would bee not onelie rich, & learned, strong, and lusty, pleasant conceited, and minions of Kinges, and gouernours of towns; but also if they haue not the best Hownds, the swiftest Horses, the dainti­est quailes, the most coragious cocks for the game that may be had, they cannot be pleased. Dionysius the elder was not Dionysius. content to be the greatest, & most migh­tie Monarch of his time, but for that hee was not a better poet, then Philoxenus, and could not discourse so well as Plato: [Page] he so disdained therat, and was so fierce­lie moued against them, that he caused the one to bee cast into the Quarries, where offendors, and bondmen were punished, and sent the other to be sold, as a slaue in the Ile of Aegina. Alexan­der the great was not of that minde, for being told that Brisson his horse courser, with whome hee ranne a race to see who should get the price of swiftnes, was faint, and failed in his course, he was greeuoustie offended with him. And Non om­nia possu­mus om­nes. therefore Homer speaking of Achilles doth wiselie in saying,

When he adioyneth straight after.

Megabysus a great Prince of Persia Megabysus wēt one day into Apellos shop, where he painted. And when he began to fall in talke of the art of painting, Apelles with his right hand closed his mouth, saying to him. So lōg as thou heldest thy peace, thou didest seeme to bee some goodlie great thing, by reason of thy gold chains, [Page] and karkynets, and thy purple robe, but now there is not the least boy in my shoppe, that grindeth my colors which doth not mocke thee, and laugh at thee hearing thee say thou knowest not what. And notwithstanding some of them thinke that the Stoicke Philoso­phers doe but sport, and mocke when they heare their saying (which is) that a The stoicks opinion of a wise man wise man in their opinion is not onelie prudent, iust and valiant, but also (as they call him an Oratour, a Captaine, a Poet, a rich man, and (more) a king. And they forsooth would faine haue all those qualities, the want of which makes them pensiue and discontented. And yet a­mongst the gods one hath power in one thing, and another in another, and ther­fore one is surnamed Enyalius that is to say Martiall, another Mantous, that is to say Propheticall, another Cerdous, that is to say Gaining by traffick. And Iupiter sen­deth Venus to beds, and bride chambers, not to the fielde, as beeing very vnfit for hir to deale with edge tooles. Besides there are some of those qualities which [Page] they affect and desire that cannot meete together (in one Subiect) as the studie, and practise of Eloquence and the Mathe­maticall sciences require libertie of mind and leisure. Contrariwise credit and au­thoritie in the common wealth, and the fauour of Princes are not to be obtained without trouble and dealing in publicke affaires, and continuall following the Court: euen as much eating of flesh, and great drinking of wine maketh the bo­die strong and lustie, and the mind faint and feeble, and as daily care to heape vp riches, and to keepe them together doth increase our wealth, and contrari­wise, the small account and contempt of them is a great meane to drawe vs to the studie of Philosophie, and practise of All things not fit for all men. morall virtue. And therefore all thinges are not fit and conuenient for all men, but we ought following the sentence of A man must first learne to know himselfe. Nature not to be forced. Apollo Pythius, to learne first to knowe our selues, and then to vse our selues, by applying our selues to that whereunto we are borne, and not to force Nature, dragging it by the haires as I may say, [Page] nowe to one imitation of life, anon to another.

But he that is disquieted, and troubled, for that he is not at one time both a great Lyon of the mountaine to trust in his strenght, and a litle Dog of Maltha to be dandled in some rich widowes lap, doubtles is a mad and senceles foole. And euen as wise is he, that would re­semble Empedocles, Plato, or Democritus, writing of the nature of the world, and of the truth of things, and straitewaies fall a courting, and then creep to some old rich womans bed, as Euphorion did: or quaffe, and carouse with Alexander the great, as Medius did: and hee that is greeued, and discontented because hee [Page] is not so much estemed for his wealth as Ismenias: or for his vertue, as Epaminondas. But the Runners are not displeased be­cause they haue not the Wrestlers crouns but are contented & glad of their own. Sparta is fallen vnto thee, take paine to a­dorne Make much of thine own. it, as the common prouerb saith, following the saying of, Solon.

Straton the naturall Philosopher vn­derstanding that his neighbor Menede­mus had more auditors & scholers thē he what meruaile is that saith he? sith there are more that would bee washed with The most part of men pre­fer pleasur and ease before pro fit, and ho­nesty. water, then rubbed with oyle, that is which loue to liue loselie and delicately at there owne pleasure, then hardly, and austerely, as I instrust them. And Aris­totle writing to Antipater saith, that A­lexander alone, shold glorie not onelie in that he commanded so great a number [Page] of men, but also, and nothing lesse in that he commaunded such men, as had a right belefe, and opinion of the Gods, as they ought to haue. They which in this manner exalte their owne estate, shall neuer enuie the condition of other men. And now wee require not that the vine should bring foorth figs, or the Oliue tree grapes; How bee it if we our selues haue not all the commodities, & aduantages together, but of riche and learned men, Soldiers and Philosophers parasites, and iesters, free men, and citi­zens, spenders, and sparers, then wee ca­uill, repine, and become vnthankefull to our selues, and contemne our life as nee­die, and wanting all thinges necessarie. But further we se, that herein Nature her Natures prouision. selfe dooth warne and teach vs. For as she hath prouided for bruite beastes di­uers kindes of foode, and nourishment and hath not ordained that all should deuour flesh, or all liue by graines, and seedes, or that all should eate herbes, & roots: So hath she appointed for men di­uers kinds of liuing, as for some to liue by [Page] their Cattel, some by tillage of the ground, some by fowling, and some by fishing. And therefore euery man should That kind of life is to be chosen, which is most agre­able to our nature. choose that kinde of life which is most sortable and agreeable to his nature, and let him practise and followe it, and not conuince the Poet Hesiodus of error or insufficiencie in saying,

For we doe not only enuie those men, which be of the same estate, and behaui­our of which wee are: but also there is a certaine iealousie betweene the rich and the learned, the Citizen and the Noble­man, the Aduocate and the Rhetorician, in such sort, that you shall see sometimes, euen Free men nobly borne enuie a Plaier of Comedies, whom they see re­warded with a pleasant Plaudite in the Theater, or dancers, iesters, and base fel­lowes, whom they know to be welcome, and in great credite in kings and Princes Courts, admiring them so long, that they become euen senselesse, and breathlesse, [Page] in woondering at them and disquieting themselues. But admit it were so, that e­uery one of vs had in himselfe the trea­sures of contentment, & discontentment & that the tuns of good & euill were not placed vppon the thresholde of Iupiters dore (as Homer saith) but in the mind of euery man: yet the diuers and variable passions that are in vs woulde make this matter sufficiently known, and manifest: For fooles, and ill aduised men doe neg­lect and passe ouer the present goodes Care for the time to come deuoureth the plea­sure of the time pre­sent. and benefites (which they holde in pos­session) hauing neither discretion to vse them, nor contentment to enioy them, by reason their mindes are so busied and combred with care for the time to come. But wise men doe so firmely retaine the remembrance of thinges alreadie past, Wise men delighted with the remem­brance of good turnes past. that they make them fresh in memoric, and reioice thereat, as if they were nowe present. For the present time suffe­ring it selfe to bee apprehended of vs, but onelie by a moment seemeth to fooles not to be ours, and not to pertaine vnto vs. And euen as the Cordmaker [Page] that is painted in the description of hell, wasting and consuming as much green broome cord, as he can wreath & work, vpon an Asse that standeth by him: so the thankelesse and senselesse forgetfulnesse of manie men gathering together, de­uouring, Forgetful­nes cause of discon­tentment. and burying in discontentment all good actions, all practise of vertue, all delightful pastime, all familiar discourse and friendly conuersation, doth not suf­fer our life to be vniforme and alike (the time past beeing linked to the time pre­sent) but conferring and comparing those thinges that were done yesterday, with thinges done this daie, and thinges done this day with things to be done to morrowe, putteth together all that hath beene, with that which yet neuer was, and drowneth it in perpetuall obliuion. They which take out of Philosophers schooles, and disputations all kindes of Analysis, saying that the substance conti­nually ministreth matter, as the spring doth water will make vs at all times be­leeue by their Argumentes that wee are not the same wee are indeede, or [Page] that we are not the same this day, which wee were yesterday. But these men through default in that they are not able to keepe in memory thinges past or to comprehende them and rest vpon them, but letting them alwaies run out at large doe make themselues truly and in effect vain, void, and empty euery present day, depending euer of the daie following, as though that which they had or did the yeare passed, or lately, and but yesterday appertained nothing vnto them, or ne­uer had befallen them. This then is one of those matters which troubleth the e­quanimitie, and quietnes of the minde, and another thing yet more (which is) that as flies cannot stand and fasten thē ­selues vppon looking glasses that are smooth and slipperie, and contrariwise doe settle themselues vppon such as are rough, vnplaine and engrauen: euen so men flying vppon their smooth, ioyfull, and profperous aduentures doe rest themselues vppon their harde, displea­sant, and aduerse mishappes. Or rather as it is reported in the territorie of the [Page] towne of Olynthus touching a place mortall, and deadlie to Beetels, where­vpon it is also called Cantharolethron, for so much as when the Beetels, are Cantharo­lethron. once entred therein, they can neuer come foorth againe, but winde and turne about so long, till they bee both windlesse, and breathlesse: euen so these men being entred into the remem­brance The re­membrāce of mishaps engrauen in the harts of men. of their forepassed mishaps, will neuer come foorth thereof, or giue themselues a breathing time, but wast and consume themselues euen to death. Howbeit cōtrariwise we ought to do as he that painteth a table, wherein hee layeth the darke, and sad colours vn­derneath, and the fresh and liuelie co­lours vpon them; for vtterlie to blot out al mischaunces in life, and wholie to de­liuer and free our selues from them, it is impossible, for so much as the harmonie The world compoun­ded of con traries. of the worlde is compounded of con­traries, and thinges diuerse, euen (as I may say) of a Bowe, and a Harpe. And there is nothing in this humane estate, which is altogether pure, and cleane, [Page] but as in Musicke there are diuers voi­ces, Nothing pure in this life. whereof some be lowd, and shril, some low, and base; and in Grammer there be some letters called vowels, and some mutes, and hee is neither a Gram­marian, nor a Musitian which neglecteth the knowledge of the one, and follo­weth the practise of the other, but hee which can make vse of them al, & tēper them togither according to his art: euen so are the affaires, & state of men hauing counterquarters one with an other, for as much as Euripides saith.

But there is (I know not how) a cer­taine mixture, to the ende that all things being well disposed may prosper, and continue in good order to the generall benefite of life; neither ought wee for some one accident to bee vtterlie dis­couraged and become carelesse of all, but resembling Musitians in depres­sing the pointe of our aduerse haps, by calling to minde our prosperous [Page] aduentures, and imbracing alwaies our good fortune with our ill to make a for­mall composition of life fit, and agree­able to euerie mans nature. For it is not as Menander saith,

But rather as Empedocles saith, assoone as euer we are come into the world, two deuils, or destinies lay handes on vs, and direct vs.

So that our natiuitie receiuing the seedes of all these passions mixt and confused togither, and by this meane our life being vnequall, and not alwaies a like, those men that be wise, & of good iudgement should wish and desire the gods to bestow the best vpon them, & yet dispose themselues to expect the worst, and to make vse of all, taking from euerie one, that which therein is Riches, glorie, au­tority do most de­lite them, who least feare pouerty, misery, and dis­grace. needlesse, or superfluous. For he which is least carefull for to morrow, shall not onelie more ioyfullie come thereun­to, (as Epicurus vsed to say:) but also riches, glorie, auctoritie, and credit do most delight and content them, which least doubt and feare their contraries. For the too ardent desire that men haue of these thinges, impressing in them a too vehement feare to loose them, maketh the pleasure of enioying them feeble and vncertaine, euen as a flame shaked, and carried euerie way with the wind. But hee whom reason fortifieth, [Page] and strengthneth so that he is able with­out feare, or trembling to say vnto for­tune.

This is the man which most pleasant­ly, and contentedly enioyeth his present goods in assurance, not fearing the losse of them as though it were a thing intollerable. And, herein wee maie not onelie commend, but also imi­tate the vertuous disposition of Anax­agoras, Anaxago­ras. who vnderstanding his sonne was dead, sayd. I knewe well that Ibe­gat him a mortall man: and so may we saie when any chaunce, or casuall mis­happes befall vs; I knewe well that I had riches; but transitorie, not e­uerlasting; I knewe well that that they which bestowed this honour vppon mee could take it from mee againe; I knewe well that I had a vertuous [Page] wife, and yet but a woman; and a friend, that was a man, which is (as Plato defineth it) a liuing creature by na­ture mutable. Such preparatiues, and dispositions of the minde prouided before hand, if peraduenture anie acci­dent shall touche vs contrarie to our will, and not aunswerable to our at­tempt, The mind must al­waies be prepared for all mis­fortunes. doe soone take away all greefes, and passions, which cause vs to sighe, and say. I would neuer haue thought it. I looked for another matter. I would neuer haue imagined that such a thing could haue happened. Which are euen like the breaking of the hart, and beating of the pulses, whereby the vitall spirites are distempered, these preparatiues (I saie) doe easilie qua­lifie and staie euerie furious motion and violent perturbation of impatien­cie. Whereupon Carneades, vsed ofte times to saie that in great matters what soeuer hapned contrarie to hope and at­tempt was easily turned into greefe, and dispaire. The kingdome of Macedonia was but a smal part of the Romā empire; [Page] But king Perseus hauing lost it, bewailed greatlie his fortune, and all the world therefore accounted him most misera­ble and vnhappie, Contrariwise Paulus AEmilius that had ouercome him, ha­uing resigned ouer his mightie army cō ­maunding sea, & land, to the charge, & conduct of another was crowned with garlands of flowers, in honour of his vi­ctorie and sacrificed to the Gods, being generallie and not vnworthely estee­med the happie man of the world, for as much as the one knewe well, that hee had receaued a power of men, which he was to yeeld vp againe at the end of his terme, the other had lost one, which he looked neuer to loose againe. Homer the Poet sheweth vs, what that is, which be­falleth contrarie to hope, and attempt in making Vlisses weep for the death of his dog, and notwithstanding beeing come home, and sitting by his wife that wept, he lamented not, for so much as he was Reason ta­meth affe­ction. come thether; hauing long before tamed and cut off his affection with the iudge­ment of reason. And contrariwise we see [Page] how sodainelie, & vnawares against his attempte hee failed in the other acci­dent. But in somme concerning those things, which befall vs contrarie to our Some things offen­siue by Natura C [...]cell will, some of them greeue, & offend vs by nature, other some, and the most part by conceite, and ill custome doe vexe, and trouble vs, being occasions of discōtent­ment, which wee nourishe in our selues. And therfore it were not amisse to haue alwaies in readinesse this sentence of Menander.

For (saith he) howe can it pertaine vn­to thee if it concerne neither thy bo­die, Conceit nor thy minde? As for example, the base estate of thy father, thy wiues adul­terie, losse of honour, or preferment: all which inconueniences may befai a man, and yet neither his minde, nor his body be therby anie thing the worse, but both verie well disposed. Nowe against those thinges which naturallie greeue vs, as sickenes, trauailes, the death, and losse of freendes, or children, wee must oppose Nature. [Page] another saying of the Poet Euripides.

For neither can reason, nor demon­stration keepe in Sensualitie, or restrain it so much, when it slideth away, and is carried about after her owne affections, The com­mon ne­cessity of nature more for­cible then Rea­son. &c. as the meditation and remembrance of our common, and naturall necessitie, whereby man as touching his body be­ing a substance mixed, and compoun­ded is laid open to fortune, and turned vpward, as the onely handle of which she can take hold: in the rest beeing al­waies Man in his body sub­iect to for­tune. certaine and assured; (I meane) in that which is the most principal, the no­blest, and greatest part in him. Demetrius hauing taken the towne of Megara as­ked Stilpo the Philosopher, if any thing of his had beene spoiled, or rifled from him? Stilpo answered, I sawe no man which tooke away any thing that was The mind the best part of man is a­boue for­tunes reach. mine. Euen so when fortune hath ran­sacked, and robbed vs of all the rest: yet in despite of her we haue some thing in [Page] our selues.

And therfore we ought not so greedi­ly to deuour, & so iniuriously to depresse the nature of man, as though it had no­thing in it firme, stable, & of cōtinuance, but cōtrariwise knowing that part wher­by wee are subiect to fortune to bee the least worst, being fraile and wormeeaten and that in the better and more worthy part we are Lords, and Maisters (in that part I meane) wherein the best quali­ties that bee in vs are seated and groun­ded, is sound iudgement, arts, and scien­ces, matters of discourse tending to ver­tue, which are of an incorruptible sub­stance, that cannot bee stollen from vs: we ought (I say) to bee resolued and to shewe our selues inuincible hereafter saying, against fortune as Socrates did a­gainst his accusers, in speaking to the Iudges. Amstus and Melitus may cause me to bee put to death but they cannot hurt mee: so fortune may afflict me with sickenes, take away my goods, bring me in disgrace with the Prince and people. [Page] But shee cannot make a vertuous, valiant and courragious man, vitious, coward­like, baseminded, or enuious, not take from him his disposition, beeing groun­ded Fortune cannot al­ter the minde. vppon prudence and discretion, of whose aide and presence, the life of man hath alwaies more neede then the ship on the sea of a Pilot. For the Pilot cannot when hee will asswage the tempest, and appease the violence of the windes, nor get the hauen at all times, when it were needeful, nor stoutly without trembling expect what may happen: howbeit, hee giueth not ouer all dispairing of abilitie to vse his art, but

This done, hee sitteth trembling and shaking for feare. But the disposition of a Continen­cie, sober diet, exer­cise pre­serue health. discrete man, besides that it bringeth lightsomnes, health and quiet to the bo­die in preuenting for the most the pre­paratiues of diseases by continencie, so­ber diet, exercise and moderate labour: if [Page] yet in outwarde accidents there shoulde be some indisposition caused by fortune it fleeteth ouer it with a light, and swift vessell (as Asclepiades saith) like a ship passing ouer a Rocke that is hidden with the water. But if peraduenture some great inconuenience past all hope shall befall vs, in such sort that the power of man can not compasse or sustaine it; the hauen is at hand, and wee may saue The bodie is a rotten boat wher­in the mind sai­leth. ourselues by swimming out of the bodie as out of a rotten boat, that continually leaketh and taketh water. For it is not desire of life, but feare of death which holdeth fooles so fast tied, and bound to the bodie, which they embrace so strait­ly as Vlysses in Homer doth the wilde fig tree for feare of falling into the gulph Charybdis that was vnderneath him,

beeing maruellouslie displeased for the one, and astonied with feare of the o­ther. But he which hath albeit but a little knowledge of the nature of the soule, reasoning and considering in himselfe, [Page] that by death this life is changed into a better, or at least not into a worse: surely this resolution auaileth much to the peace and quiet of the minde, and bani­sheth all feare of death from it. For hee which can behaue himselfe ioyfully, while vertue the princely and proper part of man is in greatest power and force: and again couragiously and stout­ly forsake the world, when the aduerse enemie of nature preuaileth and hath the vpper hand, saying.

What can we imagin that may greeue, trouble, and offend him, that is thus af­fected, and resolued. For hee which can say, Fortune I haue preuented thee. I haue withstood thy comming, I haue stopped thine entrance, this man tru­steth not, or planteth his assurance vp­pon Philoso­phy is the fortresse of good minds. barres, or boltes, or gates locked with keies, or walles fortifyed with mu­nition, but vpon the sweet sentences of philosophie, and the sownde perswasi­ons of reason, (whereof all men that wil [Page] are capable) which wee ought not to doubt, or distrust, but rather with ad­miration to loue & esteeme euen with the rauishment of spirit through affecti­on, proouing, and making triall of our selues first in small matters, that wee may the better compasse greater, and not resusing, or casting behind vs the due care and diligence, that are requi­site for the good order, and exercise of The mind to be ex­ercised. the minde. And in so dooing men shall not finde so much difficultie herein, as they weene. For the wanton nicenes of the minde betaking it selfe naturally to ease and pleasure, flying backe straight in imagination from troble and sorowe to rest and delight, maketh it tender & vnexercised against delicacie, & greefe. But the mind which is taught by reason, and enuied by custome to endure a con­ceit of ficknes, banishment, or anie other kind of aduersitie, and enforceth it selfe with reason to fight against these, & such like accidents, shal finde by experience, that there is much deceit, vanitic, and weakenesse in those thinges, which [Page] through error of opinion seeme pain­full, grieuous, and fearefull. So that rea­son sheweth this plainly to him that will thinke hereof, & particularlie consider of euerie one of these. And notwith­standing there are manie which greatly feare this saying of Menander,

Not knowing how much this practise auaileth to the quiet, and contentment of the minde, whereby we may bee able with open eies firmlie to looke against Fortune, making our conceits and ima­ginations, not idle, or effeminat in thē ­selues, as being nourished onely by a shadow, vnder such kinde of hope, as yeeldeth, & bendeth, whē they are pres­sed downe by their contraries, & neuer standing stiffe or vnflexible against anie one of them. But we may also obiect & say against Menander, It is true, that no man liuing can say. This shall neuer hap­pen to me. And yet I may saie; As long as I liue I will neuer do this, I will neuer [Page] tell vntruth, I will neuer deceaue, I will neuer falsifie my faith, I will neuer sur­prise anie man. For this being in our po­wer is no small meane, but a great helpe to the quietnes of the minde. As con­trariwise the remorse of conscience ( I know that I haue committed such a heinous Remorse of consci­ence wor­keth re­pentance. offence) doth leaue repentance in the soule, which grateth, tormenteth, and bloodieth it selfe, euen as a wound in the flesh. For reason taking away, and wiping out all other greefes, sorrowes, and anguishes doth engender this repē ­tance, which with shame nippeth and byteth, and with horror afflicteth and punisheth it selfe continuallie. Euen as they who being sicke of an ague do ei­ther shake for cold or burne with heate, are more greeued and tormented, then they which endure the same passions by outward causes of winters cold, or Som­mers heat: so casuall and accidentall mishaps make our griefs more easie, and tolerable, as proceeding from external causes, and from without vs. But when one saith, None other is to bee blamed for [Page] this, my selfe alone am the cause hereof. This is a custome, and kinde of sorrow, & lamentation comming from the bot­tom of the hart, whē we know our selues guiltie of some publicke crime, wherby the griefe is so much the greater, in that it is conioined with shame, and infamy. And therefore there is neither house nor landes, nor great store of gold & siluer, nor honor and noblenes of blood, nor greatnes of office, and estate, nor the grace and vehemencie of speach, which doth so much lighten, and so sweetlie becalme the life of man, as an vndefiled A pure minde maketh a sweete conten­ted life. conscience, to haue the mind pure, neat, and cleane of all lewd deedes, motions, and deuises, and our names which are the spring from whence al vertuous, and commendable actions do follow, to bee honest, and impolluted, not troubled, or infected with any vice. This is it, which giueth a cheerefull force, and vi­gor, as it were diuinely inspired with a greatnes and constancie of courage, and with a more ioyfull and assured remem­brance, then the hope which Pindarus [Page] describethto be the nurse of old age. For euen as the bottels wherein there hath beene frankencense put (as saith Carnea­des) albeit they be empty yet keepe the sweete sauour therof long after, so good and vertuous actions proceeding from the minde of a wise man, doe alwaies leaue behinde a pleasing and fresh re­membrance wherby his ioy and delight being watered doth florish and encrease, and himselfe contemneth those who be­mone and diffame this life, as if it were a hell or place of torments and of conti­nuall aboade, where wretched and mi­serable soules are to be chained and tor­tured. And herein I cannot but greatlie commend the saying of Diogenes, who vpon a time seeing a certaine stranger in Lacedemon that decked and trimmed himselfe against a feast day, what? (saith he) doth not an honest man thinke, that al daies are feast-daies for him? yea sure­lie and a great and solemne feast, if he be wise.

For this world is a most sacred, and What the world is. religious temple, whereinto Man is [Page] brought at his birth to beholde therein the portratures, & images, not wrought and carued with mens hands, but those formes, and figures, which the Diuine mouer hath made sensible to represent vnto vs the formes intelligible, (as Plato faith) hauing in thē the principal impre­ssions of life, and motiē, (that is is saie.) the Sun, the Moone, the Starres, the run­ning streames, casting sweet freshe wa­ter out of the bodie of the earth, which continually like a kind mother, yeeldeth and prouideth nourishment for liuing creatures, and plantes. So wee ought to esteeme this life as a profession, and en­traunce into a most perfect and vnited religion. And therefore it were conueni­ent, that it should bee replenished with great tranquitlity and neuer ending ioy not as the common sort doe at this day, in solemnising the feast of Saturne, Bac­chus, or Minerna to delight, and sporte themselues with laughter bought with monie, which they giue to dauncers, counterfeites, and stage plaiers, that en­force them to laugh. And now at these [Page] feasts we sit verie mannerly and orderly, not being troubled or disquieted with any thing. For there is no man, that sor­roweth, when hee commeth to a mee­ting of good fellowes, or that lamenteth in beholding the games of Apollo, Pythi­us, or that fasteth at Saturnes feastes; And notwithstanding we deface the feastes, which God himself hath appointed, and commaunded, in weeping, sighing, and bewailing, or at least wise in painefull cares and continuall discontentmentes. Wee take pleasure in hearing musicall instrmentes, whose sound pleaseth the eare, and we delight in birdes, that sing sweetelie, and willingly behold other li­uing creatures pretely sporting, skipping and frisking with iolitie of heart, and contrariwise wee dislike them which houle, whine, and grone, and which loke heauily, ougly, and fearefully; Howe bee it, seeing the whole course of our owne life to be sorrowfull, pensiue, pain­full, oppressed with most greeuous pas­sions, most laborious busines, and euer endles cares and thoughts wee will not [Page] giue our selues any rest, comfort, or time of breathing, but (that which is worse) wee are vnwilling to receaue the good counsell, and aduise of our freendes, and kindred, that warne, and exhort vs here­vnto, which if we would with patience heare, and in practise followe, we might behaue our selues blamelesse for the time present, with ioy, and pleasure re­count the time passed, and boldly with­out distrust in cheereful and liuely hope attend the time to come.