Essay. I. OF RESO­lution.

THe Worlde is a booke▪ the words and actiōs of men Cōmentaries vp­on that volume: The former lyke manuscriptes priuate: the latter common; lyke things printed. None rightly vnderstand this Au­thour, most goe contrary. Some fewe according to probalitie: but the worst of all is, the vnsetled opi­nion, [Page] whose continuall alteration makes him vnprofitable to him­selfe, and to others. So much haue I hated this giddy vncōstantnesse, as I haue bin cōtent to take know­ledge of duttie Resolutions, and to preferre them before the other; yea to pittie & admire them both together, and to end the viewing that obiect with allowing the ver­tue of the Iewel, if it had bene wel set. Truly I need no other exāple then mine owne life, which en [...] ­red cōtinual troubles, while youth and folly gouerned my barke in the sea of chaunges. I still contra­dicted my self, attempted nothing, but a languishing wearinesse pos­sessed me before the ende: but it was no matter, so vnworthy were those thoughts and attemptes, as they were worthy of an vntimely death, & to be interred in the mire [Page] of Irresolution. In the end I found my self: and my soule vndertooke to guide me into a more wholsom aire: I dare not say shee hath kept promise really, but it was my own fault, yet in part she hath: Her mo­tions, my own memory & bookes haue done something: these last I am much bound too, especially to Seneca and Plato, who haue gotten this power ouer me, (though they seldom make me do well, yet) they oftentimes make me thinke well: they so wholely possesse me, as I then resolue to meditate on no­thing vnder Socrates Apologie. Me thinkes I am strōg, and able to encounter my affectiō, but hardly haue my thoughts made an end of this gallāt discourse, but in comes a wife, or a friend, at whose sight my Armour of defence is bro­ken, and I coulde weepe with them, or bee content to laugh at [Page] their triuiall sports. After which I come again to see my promise bro­ken, that challenge in cold bloud makes me desperate, that were i [...] not for the comfort of my youth, which gently giues mee time, I should surely punish my incōstan­cie with great rygour.

Thus it is with me yet, and I am afraid of worse, by comparing what power these gentle Distur­bances haue ouer me: I am afraid griefes and calamities would ouer­throw me: nay, I will not be afraid (since it is truth) to confesse, that I am more troubled to thinke Dis­asters should trouble me, then of themselues: yet I am sometimes perswaded not to mistrust my self, since I haue alreadie tasted some store of crosses, but they are no­thing, no not preparatiues to that I may feele. Not leauing these [Page] thoughts thus, I beginne to search into the inuentory of my thinges esteemed, & I find no [...] that I haue cause to loue any thing so preci­ously: I haue a wife, & a very good one, I loue her according to her deserts, but should she fal into any thing except dishonestie (which her vertue I know will defend her from) I would not weep if I could choose, nor do any thing more thē stand the surer vpon my guard to resist fortune: for wealth, and her Appendices, I know them not, nor did I long for them euer, but to keepe mee from basenesse, and to exercise Charitie. For my Parents I owe thē voluntarily that, which the lawes of God, and of Nature, exact of all men, I doo it without Hypocrisie, or feare: yet should they loose their wealth, or their liues, I wold neither teare my hair, [Page] nor melt into womanish excla­mations. No I know the reuoluti­ons of the worlde, they are not straunge to mee:

I think nothing wold more troble me, thē that they shuld loose their reputation, I loue that well, and it wold grieue me sure to be preuen­ted of that patrimony. For other friends (thankes be to God) I haue but fewe, I would I could affirme the same of my acquaintance. The cause, fewe haue corrupted mee; and out of my owne choyse, there are few that I hold worthy of that nearnesse. Some I haue whō I hold so vertuous, that they wold be sor­ry to see me lamēt for any of their trialls. Thus I haue bene content to hold you in mine own example the longer, as taking the oppor­tunitie of recording these honest [Page] thoughts, whose wil I hope I shall the better follow, since I haue set my hand to their choyse: and I see no reason but I should be as care­full of not breaking with them, as common men are of a bonde, the penaltie is as much, the law to pu­nish, & recouer lies opē, the court of Conscience with whom it is al­waies Terme time. To speak now of the contrary, it hath much mo­ued me to see the strange alterati­ons of men vpon slight occasions, at the receit of a letter, yea, before the reading▪ at a message, at newes: I haue bene so charitable as to be sorry for them, for these intollera­ble bendings of theirs. There are others (but it is no matter, for they are commonly hawking, or dog­ging fellowes) that hoping the re­turn of some messenger imploied about these woorthie occasions, [Page] haue suffered great extremitie be­tweene hope & feare in that time: at sight of the messenger, behold the very heigth of Disquietnesse, and wherefore? alas for a Dogge, or a Hawke: beleeue me▪ a pittifull disease, which in my opiniō ought to be praied for as earnestly, as one that is vpō the point of taking his leaue of his bodie. When Seneca writ the definition of Hope, Spes nomen est boni Incerti, I am sure he meant not that good this way. Banish these grosse perturbations all noble spirites, they are daunge­rous, and the enemies of Resoluti­on. I do not poetically deifie Re­solue, neither do I set vp a marke impossible to hit: no, it is in the power of a lowe stature to wade here without drowning: I speake of no impossibilitie, perhappes at the first some little difficultie: [Page] there belonges so to the basest trades, and shall thy estimation be so tender hearted, as to refuse it for so meane a price: beware of such couetousnesse, for it is worse then to loue money. Our misfor­tunes in general, me thinks should not be so neare a kinne to vs, they are no part of vs, wee may stand without them. God hath giuen vs Bodies, Soules seperate from o­thers, and hath tied neither lands nor treasures vnto them, they are no part of their buildings, we are worse then women, if we cannot see without these Habiliments and tricks: without question, it is a true signe of a maimed Soule, and a deformed Body, to seeke lu­ker from these outward things. It is more base then to bee out of countenance at a feast, if not gra­ced by the Hoste. I am my selfe [Page] still, though the world were tur­ned with the wrong side outward.

If I loose ground in vertue, I will repent, not wash Handkercheifes in my teares. Man knowes not himselfe vntill he hath tasted of both fortunes. Euery milke-sop can endure to swim in hot bathes; any mā shews gloriously in pomp, and no maruell, for he feeds Flat­terers, and they him: but to en­dure the tempests of winter, to be able with his strength to endure the most violent tides, and still to swimme aloft, he is the man. You shall finde no man that dares goe wet-shod, but will protest in his Ambition, how much he loues Honour, what exploits, what fa­mous Acts he would do, if he had bene borne mightie: do you heare my friend? you are out of the way, if you thinke any other estate but [Page] your owne capable of true Honor: the poorer, the better: the strōger your enemy, the more worthy your conquest: vanquish your owne sicke wishes, and desires, and the Chariot of triumph belongs more truly to you, then to Caesar. I write thus, I thinke thus, and I hope to do thus: but that blessed time is not yet come. Now to particula­rities.

In the outward habit, and in some actions, I am not so precise, I like not to be bound to one, it be­comes not secular men, it tastes of affectation and Hipocrisie: It is naught, it comes too neare singu­laritie, and a desire to be noted: for those things I would conforme my selfe: I am not of their mindes that tax Alexanders putting on the habit of the Persians. It was a poli­tick intēt, he ioyned thē to him, by [Page] that yeelding. For some actions, if they be not wholely vicious, hu­manitie and good nature shall make me sociable. I will hauke with a faulkoner, hunt with hun­ters, talke of Husbandrie with the seruants of Thrift: bee amorous with the Italian, and drinke with the Dutch man, Non ad Ebrieta­tem, sed ad voluptatem: The fruite: you shal therby winne their loues, and you may with that interest make them honest: A course neg­lected, but wel-becomming a wise honest man. Your determination being not to put on their imper­fections, but to make them per­fect: So doth the Grafter ioyne good fruite to a Crabbe stocke: and thus humilitie alters not the good, but makes that which is ill good.

Some may wonder I haue not [Page] yet touched Death the chiefe. If thou think'st so, thou art a coward, for in my opinion all affections are more strong: and though to some it is the chiefe instrument of Feare, I thinke not so, thou mista­kest it, it is past feare, for thou art sure of it. Thou art vnreasonable, if thou wilt buy a thing and not pay for it: thou boughtest life, and payest for it with death. The lapi­dary is not sory when he hath got­ten the rinde, or barke of a Iewell from what is precious. Thy body is no otherwise, thou art neuer precious before thy seperation: thou shinest not, thou hast no ver­tue in thee, thou art not sound vn­till the couer of thy perfection be withdrawne.

In truth at this time, though my face would hinder me from being thought of Age, and so by [Page] course my lease might bee long, yet I am not afraid to be put out of my Farme: It is a dyrtie thing I dwel in, ful of mistie grosse aires, and yet barren; I haue bene so vaineglorious sometimes as to say so, when I haue bene answered by more yeares, that I would change that minde, when I grew older. I haue searched into that speech, supposing there had bin some con­cealed mistery in it, but I could find none: then I thought they imagi­ned my boldnes, the effect of igno­rance: if it be so, I shall loue know­ledge the worse while I liue. To cure this disease in a woman, I would apply no other medicine but example: It is euery bodies case, the fortune of Princes, as wel as Beggers, it is the fashion. To conclude, the first causer said it should be so: and if thou art not [Page] an Heathen, thou wilt not mi­strust his loue. His wisedome or­dained it, who is the fountaine of vnderstanding: Come then, Allons Alegrement. I haue loued a crea­ture that hath bene the very pic­ture of Ignorance, for following the example of Socrates taking his poyson. And Cicero whom I could neuer loue, because he was a coward, wonne me at his death, with thrusting his necke out of the coach, to meete the sword of the executioner.

Essay. 2. Of Aduise.

IF wee could perswade the first Taste to respite the Operatiō, or the Operation to leaue some part of the sweetenesse to the first taste, our liues shuld be long, hap­pie, and safe, for we should begin to liue, when we begin to breathe, whereas we begin not to liue, be­fore we are readie to die: still de­fectiue, If hauing strength, wan­ting iudgement; If wise, Decrepit; Fate, Desteny, and Fortune, are the Goddesses of Sloth, Neg­ligence, and Pleasure. These war­rant our deafenesse, and promise a sanctuary to priuiledge vs from [Page] Infamy, beggery, and misery, but alas they cannot: wisedome and vertue preuailes, and before them these names of shelter are but the surnames to our folly. Our actions are in our owne hands, and it were pittie else, for vertue & vice shuld be confounded, were our deedes necessited. The world were no world, if they could not be cut asū ­der by a distinction: there were no paines, no hier, there were no ver­tue, no glory, all were one and this one were a Chaos. But there are differences, There are good, and they are to be praised, bad, the ex­ample for them yet indifferent, to eschewe badnesse by their punish­ment, youth readie for impression, Age wherin may be read the iour­ney of youth: Times christned by our vse Ages past, to light vs the way: others to come, the Iudges [Page] of our deserts. If the end of life be to be good, if the safest purchase of goodnesse bee counsayle, if counsaile without scarres be most profitable, why eschew wee the blessing of Aduise? let vs alter this tradition, let vs not be so ten­der; let vs make our beauties, our strengths, our abilities compleate, with making the proportion of the mind answerable to the beautie of the body, with giuing Strength direction, Abilitie iudgement. Warres, and States, and Counsells choose men practised in warres, in states, and in counsells. Wee are to aske counsell for the passage of our circuite of them that haue pas­sed it, of Age, and Bookes: we aske to know, we cannot know except wee beleeue, wee must aske if wee will knowe, wee must beleeue, or else our asking is vaine. We giue, [Page] and rightly giue preheminence to Age; wee haue found out a word to beautifie the wrinckles, and hoa­rinesse thereof, we call it venera­ble: why? meerely in respect of the Apparence? no, but in respect of the annexion; because wisdome commonly accompanies such a presence: for should we see it in a­ny other thing, it would be despi­sed and called riueld, and ill fauou­red.

Let them in Gods name then shew vs their inward excellencies, and as our eyes beleeue them to be old, let our minds beleeue them to be wise: I see nothing more de­cay the fairest braunches of our Commonwealth, then this neg­lect; either wee will not endure Aduise, or not beleeue it vntill our owne perills, and ouerthrows make vs see it, to our shame.

[Page]We are inquisitiue of Trauailers concerning straunge Countries; our eares stande wide open for newes; and sometimes we swallow matters improbable: but when we are Aduised for our owne sakes, perswaded by Vertue, tolde the passages of the world truely, and haue all this sealed vp with the as­surance of a fathers, or a friendes loue, whom we haue no cause to suspect, as speaking either for O­stentation, or Flattery, yet we be­leeue not. Let vs supple our affec­tions with reuerence, and regard of their words: let vs prepare our selues to receiue this inheritance, which feeds the minde, though it doth not durtily pamper our bo­dies, it fortifieth all, and costs no­thing, with safetie it giues you that which another perhaps purchased with daunger, in an houre his col­lection [Page] of yeares. It would doubly blesse you with youth, and iudge­ment, which seldome happen in our Age, because our Age is so obstinate as not to bee capable of Aduise.

Let vs aske, and follow: The life of Industries first fruite is some­what sweatie, and painful, but then pleasant, and euer pleasant. A me­mory stored with the performāce of gallant actions is onely rich, it is a sweete meditation, that may be often read ouer without tedious­nesse. The most leaden spirit that euer was, at the hearing a Relati­on of an vnusuall excellency, though he be more beholding to his eares, then his head, yet feeles Emulation tickle him, and wishes his brand were set vpon those ri­ches. Wish and spare not, but let not Lazinesse make thy wishes [Page] vaine.

First let vs proclaime warre against delicious nicenesse, and ei­ther turn our affections to a good vse, or turne them out of doores, Semen Laboris, Honoris Seges. It was pittie Pirrhus had no more to giue, he knew so well to whom to giue, naming him his Heire whose sword was sharpest, the height of whose spirit should carry him to the conuersation of actions stuf­fed with magnanimitie, and iudge­ment. Yea, here's the life, whether he win, or loose, he is happie. Han­niball being demanded who were the worthiest Captaines that euer were, names Alexander, himselfe, and some others: Scipio demaunds where he would haue stood, if hee had conquered, hee answeres, first: It was well answered, and he ment well, his attempt shined too [Page] gloriously to be dusked by misfor­tune.

I would allow a man to keepe the house no longer then till hee be able to flie, vntill his mind and body are able to carrie themselues without falling, not vntil hee bee past reeling, and staggering, for that abilitie we neuer haue: but in this time let bookes, and Aduise rectifie, and prepare vs fit for the entertaining of all fortunes; victo­ries, and ouerthrowes: calamitie, and happinesse. Let vs robbe and suck from our Parents experi­ence, and iudgement: let vs bee acquainted with the successes, and sequences of the worlde, tracke their obseruations, bee acquainted with the mindes of times past, and let their bodies goe: If wee loue what they did, we haue the best part of them, for [Page] the worke is commonly better thē the manual Instruments effecting it, for they are the seruants of Di­rectiō, the thing performed the is­sue both of minde & hand. Fie vpō these ingrossing senses of ours, that make all fare the worse for the sa­tisfactiō of one, and yet limit their obiects, and carry leuell but cer­taine distances. The minde, the minde is the Magazin of content­ment, It is the minde that can di­still the whole world, all Ages, all acts, all humane knowledges with­in the little, little compasse of a braine, and yet with the force of that little treasure commaund, di­spose, cēsure, & determine States, Actions, kingdoms, warres, ouer­throwes, and all the Actes, and Actours busied vpon our humane Theater. To this mind, to this ce­sterne of preciousnesse, let vs at­tribute [Page] al, & not suffer the weight of our affections to disorder this goodly frame, this clocke of Time and Reason: O quam contemptares est Homo, nisi supra humana se erex­erit.

These licourous Humours, and Affections, are the out-offi­ces of our mansion, & the respect ought to be giuen to the Director whose high erected scituatiō wit­nesseth his prerogatiue: from the Rayes of this sun proceed all bles­sings, Aduise is the medium trans­porting them, our braines like a sense able to performe good offi­ces if imployed. Let vs receiue, and vtter, be capable, and returne in­crease of this fruite. What a pre­cious sight is it to see a temperate young man, how he shines, Glory, and admiration attends all his ac­tions: It is good in age, because the [Page] contrary were abhominable, but it is common, & their night being almost come, they cannot but looke grauely, and liue temperate­ly, as well to preserue them from paine, as to eschue shame, and re­proch. I thanke not Alexander for conquering the world, but for per­forming it before thirtie yeare old. Augustus commaunds admiration of mee for nothing so much as his beginning enterprises of high mo­ment very young, and yet with that youth reducing the whole world vnder his subiection. I of­ten heare olde men wish them­selues young, which though I al­low not, as being wishes of impos­sibilitie, yet hoping their intent is to trace their course moderately, & to vnite the blessings of youth, and iudgement, I thinke it tolle­rable: but we that are yet young, [Page] need not wish youth, for we pos­sesse it, but iudgement that may make vs worthy to possesse it: then begin with Hearing, next with following Aduise and Counsaile: let vs beginne with our selues, and marshall, and dispose our owne course; let vs determine it, & leaue nothing to vncertainties, but drawing out our intents regularly, fol­low that delineated, and wayed maner: Here liues Happinesse, for here liues wisedome: this musicke of two strings is the most delight­ful harmony, for the world affords not a more admirable excellency then youth, and iudgement inclu­ded in one substance: both partes showe their richest Treasure, the Soule iudgment, the Body youth: let vs then infranchize Aduise, and perswade our eares to become good common-wealths men, to respect the generall profit: Coun­sell, [Page] and Aduise, are the parents of Gouernment: what can I reckon thē more worthy, more safe, more excellent in institutiō, then Coun­sell, and Aduise?

Essay. 3. Of Patience.

ABout nothing doo I suffer greater conflict in my selfe, then about induring wrongs: for other duties (though perhaps I seldom performe them) yet I am resolued they should be done: and it is not the fault of my meditati­on, but of my negligent flesh: but heere is set vp Reputation as the Garland appointed, and he that reuengeth not, is not capable of this glory.

Heere hath crueltie borrowed the apparel of wanton vanitie, and makes foolish youth her Agent. I [Page] know what Diuinitie, what Philo­sophy perswades: I knowe these wrong-doers to be wretched crea­tures, rather in truth to bee pitti­ed, then maliced, and yet for all this I dare not yeelde: the cause, there is too much safetie in follow­ing this Aduise, the body by this preuents an aduenture, therefore that respect makes mee obstinate. I knowe againe this idle breath should not diuert mee from Ver­tue, but hauing no present occa­sion wherein I may exercise va­lour, & manifest my worth, I dare not take day in any thing so near­ly concerning me. But all this time I finde not my selfe angry, but in truth somewhat subiect to vaine-glory, which is a worse disease, be­cause lesse violent, and therefore of more continuance. I haue not yet any outward witnesse of my valour, but this is my determina­tion, [Page] not to refuse the first good quarrell, and to performe it as wel as I can, after which I will serue Vertue, beare, and forbeare: and this I will do in humilitie to please the world, and to showe them I scorne not altogether their cu­stomes. Now ariseth another que­stion, (behold how subtil Vice is, shee stealeth often to the bed of Vertue, and puts in a changeling, and makes Credulitie belieue be­cause Vertue is a mother, therfore this is her child:) vpon the receit of a wrong, and an honest deter­mination to forgiue, I am whispe­red in the eare, that this lenitie is iniustice, that I nourish sinne with not cutting it vp when I see it growe, that though I effect re­uenge, and reuenge could do no more, yet it is not reuenge, it is iu­stice: pittifull abuse, Anger is the [Page] [...]other of Iniustice, and yet Iu­ [...]tice must lackey on her Errandes, [...]ight battailes, and giue her the victory: I cannot reconcile these [...]ogether, but euen in the behalfe [...]f Truth, and mercy, I wil combat [...]gainst a receiued traditiō. I think nothing but murther should bee [...]unished: for these pettie matters of theft, and such trespasses, they [...]re the effect of need, or wanton­nesse, venial faults; Age common­ [...]y reclaimeth the one, and the o­ther is punished by the setter Po­ [...]ertie: for any thing lesse offen­siue, a coole reproofe, no cholle­ [...]icke reuenge.

I haue seene some fall out vpon wrong vnderstanding, presently [...]ce hath chafed, sworne, stricken, played the Bedlam, and in the end i [...] hath bene proued no offence: Was not his case lamentable? [Page] Yes, hee is bound more strickt­ly to Restitution then the sonne of an Vsurer. It is an excellent temperate Vertue this Patience, and punisheth more with no [...] punishing then the hastiest Ex­ecutioner. Though Enemye would be loth to bee hurt, yet i [...] hurteth them to meete with a cold aduersary; the reuenge not per­formed, they liue in feare, the ter­rour of which is without bloodie hands, and yet most terrible. If it were possible to play Fury to the life, and yet not haue her effects inwardly, I would be content vp­on some great occasiō not to hurt▪ but to scarre the iniurious, but it is daungerous, and that iesting often will discouer the intent, and it is to be feared will weaken the braine, as ill as drunkennesse. The grea­test vse that I see olde souldiers [Page] make of this conuersing with dan­ger, is an abilitie to suffer, and in truth it is one of the best collecti­ons of Experience. Patience is the mother of Opportunitie, she pro­stituteth her self to them that nou­rish this her childe carefully, when before Anger she goeth inuisible, and hindereth them from what they most thirst after. When in my reading I meete with a fellow that hath deserued much of his Coun­trey, and hath bene paid with vn­gratefulnes, and yet endures with­out alteration, I honour him, and in my estimation, I preferre him before the mightiest Conquerors, or most powerfull Princes: ô he is wise, hee knowes the passages of the world wel, he serued his coun­try for his countries sake, and I thinke they haue rewarded him a­gainst their willes better then they [Page] could with their willes: for in his other deserts hee was but a sharer with others▪ the tractablenes of his people might keep them in peace, the valour of his souldiers make him a Conquerour: but in this he fights singly, he gouernes alone, he ouerthrowes millions of affec­tions, to reward which, no Try­umph, no Palme, no Statue, no E­dict is sufficient: what then? Me­mory, and Eternitie.

Essay. 4. Of Suspition.

FRom the vttermost bounds of knowledge and ignorance, are deriued all our contentments, and discontentments: from the [Page] suruey of knowledge, proceed all delightfull obiects, and in the ob­scure darknesse of ignorance, liues Doubt and Suspect, over-valu­ing causes of Opposition. Incestu­ous Ignorance begets Feare, and then ingenders vppon his owne daughter Suspition: this is the ori­ginall of this monster, which so distracts his possessour, as in the clearest day hee goeth without light, and makes his imagination build blockes and thresholdes, in the plainest and most beaten way: yet let Wisedome mannage this blinde Humour, and it seeth: such is the touch of vnderstan­ding, as it giueth things newe na­tures, and makes clogges wings to raise him to his pitch. From hence may be demonstrated what an ex­cellent counsellor a self obseruatiō is, since no words, no works, no pas­sion, [Page] no Patience comes from vs, that turn not back their heads to looke vpon this Author, and are either ornaments or disgraces to our life: they all resemble the Fa­ther, and cast backe vpon vs the true reflection of our selues. Mi­das fable hath great interest in m [...] respecting the morrall, what he touched was Golde: what Coue­tousnesse toucheth, it conuerts to that vse: we are all Bees, or Spi­ders, conuerting things indifferent to a particular qualitie: thus Suspi­tion which in women, and igno­rant persōs, lookes like the mother Feare, and is most deformed, with wisedome is so ordered, as it be­comes Forecast, and Prouidence: thus is the making things good, or ill, equally in our choise, as the be­ing good, or ill. Euen as the pesti­lencies of corrupt humors are fed [Page] by ill diet, and slowly goe on in their infectious natures, and in­crease so easily, a [...] they showe not their extremitie sodainly: so is the order of our life disordered by gi­uing way to the qualities of our af­fections: and as we loose ground in the right managing of our selues, the other gets: giuing libertie we loose libertie, and by degrees throwing of the prescribed course of Vertue, we fall into the incer­tainties of passions, and appetites, and with conuerting Desier into base vses, we purchase feare, and suspect, & liues, liuing to no other ende, but to hunt out cares, and griefes.

[Page]Mee thinkes there is great in­differency, who receiueth Ioy im­moderately, should be touched with the contrary equally, other­wise he buyes without payment: who suspects ought to be, and is suspected. If we like not this, let vs deliuer men ware more precious, and wee shall not be offered such base stuffe in exchaunge. It is the trafficke of Humours that disor­ders our conuersation, and a see­king a present itching content­ment, brings repentance on the one side, and derisiō on the other. Thus are our liues either weeping or laughing: and euery one by turnes either feeles his own paine, and laments, or seeing better a far off then neare hand, laughes at his own imperfections in another. Who seeth a Louer, & loues not? forcing his imagination to draw a [Page] portrature of perfection, and then Pigmalion-like inamoured of his owne workemanship, and laughes not? Who seeth this creature feed vpon the Suspition of a Riuals en­tertaining his mistresse, his eares not hauing abilitie to performe their office, and therfore teaching his eyes a new occupation, measu­ring the wind that proceeds from her mouth, and spelling words by the obseruation of her lippes, and pitties not? when in another vice this pitying laughter may deserue these marks of reproach, and haue his Iudges part taken from him, and condemned by his owne sen­tence.

Amendmēt is more excellent thē reproofe: for things purchase value with the quicknes of their loose, & [Page] thus Amendment which is im­mediatly good: Reproofe receiues the nature of all things performed for anothers sake, they being la­borious and painfull: besides Su­spition cannot detract from acted Aduise which is example. What this humour doeth vndirected, it vndoeth: what directed sul of pre­seruation. Suspition will accuse a friend, and fearing enemies, make an enemy: Wisedome knowes Trust ought heere to be applied, and makes Suspitiō iealous of loo­sing him, not loosing him by Su­spition: Certainly though it tastes of the grossenes of the parents, yet it is refined, beeing a knowledge forced out of ignorance, and not like the mother distracted, but a­uoyding daunger: more subtil, for feare vnderstandes nothing that lookes not terribly, and frownes [Page] not: Suspition out of smiles, and courtesies, can picke dangers, and Distrust venome out of sugar: but thus if not gouerned she wil go too farre, and starue her selfe with su­specting all thinges daungerous: but Wisedome applies it selfe to the place, and time, and out of them frames the allowance, or disallowance of Suspition. One thing makes mee thinke it not so naturally ours, seeing it seldome lights vpon things not precious in estimation, as among poore men iealousie of their wiues: but no where so conuersant & powerful, as among Princes, vnto whom to say rightly, it rightly belongs: for how soeuer they are, they haue enemies: If good, enuious: If euil, some that lay holde vpon that oc­casion: Yea, euen their friends are doubtfull, not beeing easily [Page] to bee discerned whether louers of them, or of their fortunes. Here it showes it selfe in diuers formes, It made the cruell Tiberius looke vertuously, Occultus ac subdolus fingendis virtutibus donec Germa­nicus, ac Drusus superfuerint. It made Galba Idle, when liuing vnder the tyrannie of Nero, Ne­mo rationem otij sui reddere cogere­tur.

Claudius had it in that extremi­tie that it turned into feare, and basenesse, Quasdam Insidias teme­re delatas adeo expauit, vt deponere imperium cogeretur. It is seldome wanton, or pittifull, the nexte turne among them is into bloud, and death, and not without rea­son: Vppon this state dependes the common good; the preser­uation of which, restes much in Suspition: for before the maie­stie [Page] of a Prince none will come not adorned with an outside loo­king honestie.

Of the best deserts there ought to be the greatest care, Niuno piú facilmente inganna gli altri, [...]he chi é solito, & ha fama di mai non gli ingannare: So is there no way left him to vnmaske dissembled faces but Suspition; which though it sometimes erre, yet more of­ten it is a true Kalender of the seasons, of the tempestes, and dan­gers.

Among these States, Suspiti­on and Dissimulation are to be allowed, as beeing the Hand­maydes of Pollicie, they ought to be conuersant among them, not to offend, but to defend: not in respect they are men, but in regard they are princes, whose liues trauel among dangers, & therfore ought [Page] warily to keepe this case of Pistols continually readie charged, and bent? but downwards they are not to be allowed, not dissimulation at all, for in a priuate Fortune it is a fearefull basenesse, and a coward­ly shift: neither will Suspition then serue to looke vpon our own liues, to obserue whether we goe backward or forward in Vertue: for we haue neither poysons, nor any other kind of treasons among vs: our enemies are more open, and touch vs slightly, and yet so plainly, as without the spectacles of Suspition we may see them. Thus are things different in name and nature, according to the pos­sessor: and as Princes and priuate men differ in the outward magni­ficence, so in their inward mindes. To a lowe fortune belongs simply the vse of Vertue, In the other she [Page] must be often chaunged, not into vice, but not to looke alwayes like Vertue: their Operation must meete, but their preparing must differ; the one hauing to deale but with himselfe, may goe on direct­ly; but the other conuersant with multitudes, must sometime goe a­bout, & seek out by-wayes, which action in him may bee vertuous, though in the other it would bee termed dishonest.

Essay. 5. Of Loue.

IT is a pretty soft thing this same Loue, an excellent company keeper, full of gentlenesse, and affabilitie, makes men fine, and to go cleanly, teacheth them qualli­ties, handsome protestations, and [Page] if the ground be not too barren, it bringeth forth Rimes, and Songs full of passion, enough to procure crossed armes, and the Hat pulled downe: yea, it is a very fine thing, the badge of eighteene, and vp­ward, not to be disallowed; bet­ter spend time so then at Dice. I am cōtent to cal this Loue, though I hold Loue too worthy a Cement to ioyne earth to earth, the one part must be celestiall, or else it is not Loue.

I hope I shall not offend Di­uinitie, if I say the coniunction of man and wife, is not Loue; It is an allowance of Gods, and so good: and the name of it, I thinke, two honest Affections vnited into one.

If this bee so, what becomes of all the rest, which are coun­terfaites, and yet begge vnder [Page] [...]he passe-port of Loue? Loue thy neighbour as thy selfe, that which comes nearest to Loue is this, man with man agreeing in sexe: I cannot thinke it is so betweene man and woman, for it giues opportunitie to lust, which the purenesse of Loue will not en­dure.

Among all Affections that of Socrates was the best, who sought [...]o better the mindes of his fa­miliars, and loued a good [...]it, and inclinations to good, and sought to confirme them in that.

I laugh, and wonder, at the straunge occasions that men take [...]ow a dayes to say they loue:

If they meete with a fellowe [...]r a Feaste, or in a Potte, If their Delightes bee anye thing [...] Kinne, or theyr Faces anye [Page] thing alike; If their Countries be one, or their landes neare adioy­ning; If they be both rich, or both poore, or indeed if their new-fan­gled inuentions can finde out any occasion, they are sworn brothers, they will liue, and dye together but they scarce sleep in this mind, the one comes to make vse of the other, and that spoyles all; he en­tered this league not to impaire, but to profit himselfe. I can com­pare prosperitie to nothing so rightly, as to the promising plen­teous fields of the Egiptians, which were deuoured by the number­lesse troupes of Flyes: You cannot haue the one without the other: Flatterers deuour the Inheritance of Fortune, who while she hath no need of them, looke like Bees that will not be vnprofitable, but be once driuen, let Pouertie be your [Page] Arithmetician, you shall then see they brought nothing to your stocke, but fed vpon it, and then you shall easily discerne them to be Drones. There is no Loue vp­on the earth, God loueth vs vnde­seruedly, and some good men loue and feare him: It is Loue from this last because God is a partie, or else it might be affection, not possibly Loue. Loue is diuine, and eternall; Affection like our flesh, momen­tary, and mortal. If I could be sure of them, I would say I loued too, and make men say they are my friends: but it is an vncertain trade this louing, and stands vpon such a company of circumstances, as I like it not. I make no difference betweene common louers, and common whores, they both flat­ter, and make the name of Loue their Bawdes to serue their parti­cular pleasures. For my choyse of [Page] friends, vertue shalbe the ground-worke, and so I may build surely. Let his fortunes be what they wil, I care not, yet if I might choose, I would haue him poore, for so I might easiest shewe my affection to him, and profit my selfe by him with least cost: for I hold obser­uation much more precious then wealth, and I will rather giue him my purse then my Time.

Essay. 6. Of Friendship & Factions.

SInce the necessitie of our infir­mities hath added this curse a­mong the rest, that it cannot enioy a peacefull amitie, it is necessary that wee prouide our selues of an Antidote against this poison: since our loue wil not, or cannot be vni­uersall, let vs make it happie in the [Page] particularitie, and loue well what is well worthy to be beloued. Vn­der this name of Friendship, which name cōmonly to our vnderstan­dings, is the messenger of Peace, is included much daunger: for to leaue a friend, testifies either in­constancie, or treacherie: and to be constant is not without perill: In the choise rests some apparence of safetie. In this choise there ought to be much vigilancie, for vntill the marriage of loue, hath coupled paires, wise natures are timerous in dilating themselues: and after that celebration, it is ir­religious to diuorce a friend thogh guiltie of many deformities. Yet must we not entertaine the humor of neutrallitie, for

No, from the vtmost happines of man to his basest contentment, [Page] it is not tollerable, neither Religi­on, nor nature, allowes it: we must then choose, we are compelled to choose: but here is diuersitie, the choise of a great man differs from a priuat man; the choise of a friend, from that of a faction. It is for a meane fortune to thinke of such as are able to better his minde, for a greater, of such whose strengths are able to vphold his fortune. In friendship I wil regard Vertue, In factions power: vnder this olde sentence, Simile simili gaudet, there was once much certainty, but now pollicy can put on all shapes, so that the Wolfe and the Lambe are hardly to be distinguished, either by their habit, words, or actions. It is lesse difficult for persons in indifferent estates to make theyr choise, then for great men, yet on­ly safe to pouertie, for there hee must be in loue with himselfe, or [Page] nothing. Wel as I am, let him pace by me often, and (as Hunters do) let me see how hee behaues him­selfe, hot and colde: let me see his motions in anger, heare his opini­on of all things, try him with me, and against me, whether he loues what I loue, what he holds indif­ferently, what vehemently: If he fits you, obserue then whether he comes faster to you, then you to him; If hee be very forward be­ware; for either hee is a common friend, and so no friend, or else hee meanes to betray you: they are su­rest that are wonne with labour, and certainest that are purchased with difficultie: for an open pro­stitute man, or woman, is loath­some, and flexible. Your friends estate is to bee reckoned among your cares, for if he be too lowe, he will haue occasion to vse you too often, and his barenesse promiseth [Page] litle helpe: If the vertues of his pouertie be worthy to be knowne bee his acquaintance, not friend, so doth your liberalitie come vo­luntarily from you, and not exac­ted, and lesse serues in chari [...]ie thē when it is commanded by friend­ship. That part of Friendship which commaunds secrets I would not haue deliuered too soone, this is the precioussest thing you can giue him, for thereby you make your selfe his prisoner, vntill his Aduise, or assistance requires it, he should not haue them, for it may be his honestie would keepe them, but his tongue cannot: feate or corruptiō doth much with men, especially when the discouery en­daungers not his owne body. Our respect here must be much, for our thoughts in other cases may for our safetie lawfully bee mingled with the poison of suspition, but [Page] in friendship, nothing but friend­ship, and opennesse. It is daunge­rous if we enioy a friend much our superiou [...] to doo him Offices not easily requited, such impossibilities make him desperate, and desirous to cancell that Obligation with some Action, that you shall not af­terwards be able to complaine of his Ingratitude. To these I would performe duties, rather giuing as­surance of fidelitie, thē of thēselues Assurance. For Princes, or great fortunes I think it much more vn­safe, since they cannot easily deter­mine, whether they loue them, or their fortunes, whether this league be entered for a mutuall safegard, or for the ones particular, and it is the more daungerous, since the name of a common good authori­seth this breach.

Among these; if there be equal­nesse, the more benefites the one [Page] part pulls from another, the mo [...] safetie the receiuer is in, for they wil be carefull of him, because part of themselues is in him, and not deny to doo for feare of loosing what is done.

Sertorius the Romane, saued his life with being indebted to his Captains: and many States at this day, holde other their friends not for loue, but for feare of losse, i [...] being an Hostage of most securi­tie. Alliance among these doth much, for the mingeling they [...] blood with others of power, makes them strong, when theirs cannot be shead alone, but others are in the like daunger of losse. Thus much for the head: but heads can plot, not execute, and therefore they must haue meaner fortune [...] tyed to them. Generally beware of imparting too much to these, for though you were before a lord, [Page] you become now a seruant, speci­ally if the secrets were of such im­portance as may promise a more liberal entertainment among your enemies. They are many Instru­ments that come vnder the vse of Greatnesse: If himselfe be wise, hee needes not entertaine many wise; and those fewe where they may do good farre off: for wit is a searcher, and ransackes euery cor­ner, somewhat too much, for it is good, going inuisibly sometime. 'The nearest I would haue natu­rally simple, honest men Appen­dices farther off that attribute so much to my knowledge, as to per­forme not to examine my com­maundements: some for their Al­liance, others for valour, a fewe for discretion: some ambitious, for that's quallitie that great matters may be wrought out of: lastly som honest, some dishonest: Poysons [Page] are as necessary as holesome Sim­ples, if they be in a hand able to prepare them.

Since Diuinations among men are vncertaine, if Factions be so e­qually peised, as it is hard to deter­mine which side wil be victorious, to remaine wooed by both partes before wonne by any, is wise­dome.

Shall it bee obiected to mee, that the respect of right ought carry mee? I thinke so too, if my power might giue Right the vp­per hande; but I doo wrong to sinke with Right, for so Right looseth a Champion: and head­long to runne into mischiefe is not zeale, but desperation.

Heere must be obserued howe you stand to both factions, whe­ther allied, or more beholding to one then the other, for if tyed by any of these respects to the wea­kest, [Page] the strongest will be iealous, and then of force you must bee a colde enemy, for you must not think to be entertained as a friend. Beware of entring into any, where there may be hope of reconcilia­tion, for that is commōly wrought by the deathes of the meaner par­ties: So was it betweene Tigra­nes, and Mithridates, they were both holden innocent, & their ser­uants to make thē innocent found guilty. The like in the time of the Triumuiri, where the seale of their cōcord was the deliuering the se­uerall vpholders of theyr Factions one to another. To cōclude, spea­king of this, euery way appeares danger: but since necessitie infor­ceth, let circumspectiō arme neces­sity: the friends of a priuat fortune are lesse daungerous: in greater there is more gaine, and so more losse: Hee that stands without [Page] stands naked, and subiect to euery storme, who vnder-propped, so long safe, but no sooner loosened, but ruined. Too much suspition begets treachery; an obstinate be­liefe, is daungerous folly. Clarissi­ma sententia, Confidere paucis: the next following is too strict, yet a sentence: Sed clarior est altera, Confidere nulli.

Essay. 7. Of Aemulation.

I Doo not thinke there are any acquainted with enuy, but some old withered foolish creatures, who we say haunt our Beer-fattes, and our Cattell, such as we call witches, but with Aemulation the refined issue of Enuy, euery one is acquainted: yea the most noble spirites are most familiar with it, and they do well.

[Page]I loue not Socrates, nor Caesar, nor none of these auncient glorious ones so well (in plainnesse I speake it) but I could be content their good Sayings, or good Actions were mine. I would haue them willingly with the appurtenances, and with the paines, and cost they were purchased with: but since I cannot haue them so, I will take patterne by their example: I will liue temperately, and loue valour to atchieue the like Ornaments. Doo you not thinke Aemulation doth handsomely here? yes, yes, without question shee is the very spirit of whatsoeuer rastes well. When we begin to liue, we are na­turally giuen to followe what wee know, and so wee liue vanquished by pleasure, vntill Aduise or Dis­course tells vs the way of Vertue, and commends it; and at that time we onely apprehend the com­mendations, [Page] and would faine pro­cure the like: thus is Aemulation the baite of Vertue, for looking into the sweetnesse of the reward, we vndertake the labour. Behold the power of Vertue, euen they that dwell not with her, but speak of her, it makes their speech grace­full. I remember the time when I my selfe was thus caught: I heard the report of the vertuous, and presently I emulated the Discour­sers good deliuery, and began to get his Tale by heart: but vpon the repetition I began to thinke, if speaking well were so gratious, how excellent would it be to doo well? thus the aemulation of good wordes, begot the aemulation of good deeds; which one day may come to the ripening & to the ef­fecting of worthy matters. Come then, put away your rustie traditi­on, all you that thinke not thus: [Page] banish not Aemulation, except you determine to haue all your yong men vnthrifts of their time, for thus youth must be entered: marry for age, Time hath brought them nearer their graues, & there­fore let them a Gods name, loue Vertue for her own sake: let them define Vertue, and her reward in­uisibly: but those that are now in the quickest of her sensibilitie, must see her in a bodie sensible, or they will not know her. Parents thus wrap your Aduises, for I ne­uer beleeued any aduise of mine, vntill the applicatiō of their speech came to persons knowne, and so quickened me vp with an honest Aemulation.

Essay. 8. Of Praise and Glory.

TO the thing so ful of perfec­tion as nothing can be added Glory must bee attributed, for it is a title onely due to the ex­treame point of all perfection, to things acknowledging an original Praise: Glory goeth vpward, and is the Attribute to God; Praise the reward of men reckons down­ward, chalenging nothing respec­ting his worthines, but that there are worse, and so much goodnesse is allowed him, as to ouercome ill in comparison: we must giue Glo­ry then, not vsurpe it, but Praise i [...] alowed vs, and we may safely loue it for Vertues sake, to whom it is so nearly ioyned; as to contemne it, shewes a mind either stupified, or shamelesse.

[Page]We that are left beggers by our first Fathers vnthriftinesse, haue onely a possibilitie to recouer left vs: wherfore Vertue comes hard­ly to vs with difficultie & paines; neither will our pouertie permit vs to be content with reuersions, and to possesse the reward of our trauailes after our decease: and therfore God hath giuen vs vpon deserts, the liuelihood of praise, and after death, the recouery of our first rich inheritance: so that Vertue hath praise here, and Ae­ternitie heereafter. This praise must be deriued from Vertue, for we must loue deserts as well as re­wards, or else our mindes are mer­cenary.

The respect must onely be to Vertue, which obtained, the rest are obtained; without which, to snatch at praise is vaine-glory, at heauen, presumption. Accidents [Page] cannot stand without a substance, neither haue these seperated any Essence, but are rather names then things: Vertue must beget them, for without her they are not. Let vs see Vertue thē, and afterwards Praise: what comes within the circuite of our thoughts or deedes may be adorned with Vertue: to thinke wel constantly is vertuous, and vertue giues it praise: for deeds are begotten by thoughts, & good deeds without good thoughts are not. In things indifferent a graci­ous Ornament onely is obtained: Thus are our Habits, and part of our Behauiour, which depend vp­on occasion, and are either grace­full, or disgracefull, according to time, and place.

Curtesie, liberalitie, gentlenesse, and such like are outward vertues, and termed the parts of a winning behauiour: good they are, not to [Page] be missed, but yet not the end of the desire of Vertue. But shewing our chiefest treasure, wee must bring forth Temperance, Forti­tude, and Patience: so ample is the scope of these perfections, as what else in moralitie may be na­med, comes within the compasse of their Dominion.

Temperance is the hardest lesson, so contrary it is to our Ap­petites, so seldome vanquished: but this difficulty is rewarded with the most resplendent shining of all: for Fortitude carries safetie with it, and present commendati­ons: Patience often proceeds not from the rebutting choller, but from a coldnesse of constituti­on: but to possesse Temperance, there is no Temperature hel­peth, for none are so weake, as to want abilitie to maintaine Desires, and Affections: none so [Page] defining Fortitude, as the pleasing their sensuall appetites, shalbe cal­led cowardise: It is a concealed victory, therefore not so neare a neighbour to commendation: no nothing can chalenge part of his conquestes, for all Tempers, all strengthes, all bodies haue affecti­ons, therefore to this belongs the title of supereminency. Fabritius pouertie as he vsed it, was fuller of Greatnesse, and Splendor, then Riches, or any purchase of Riches: the Giuers liberalitie was nothing so magnificent as the refusers tem­perance.

A follower of Alexanders, de­nies the wading through a deepe carowse, for feare of needing Ae­sculapius: So is it with all intempe­rancy, which is most needy, when most full. We loue libertie, and yet loue Intemperācy, which is a slaue euer hungry, and asking assistance. [Page] Diogenes at a Faire full of those things which Curio [...]itie, & Hous­holders call necessaries, proclaimes his abundance such, as not to haue need of any of those things: the ri­ches of his minde was so full, as it could take no additiō of content­ment from those outward gawdie trash: how rich was this fellow in a Tub, ouer the most worldly rich, that with riches, are haunted with humorous, and licorous appetites? Fortitudes circuit is more limited, her strength beeing destinated to be conuersant with daungers; how like this Vertue lookes to Tem­perance, since Feare is naturally the Companion of Daunger, but Fortitude abstaines, and in this Abstinence resembles Tempe­rance: what armour can promise mortallitie more safetie then this, which beating back Feare, looseth nothing with ouersight? and if it [Page] must be death, Vn bel morir tuttala vita honora. I know not how I shal entertain this closing point of our Actions, because all things not past are among vs vncertaine, but I hope well of my selfe, so much I loath an effeminate bewailing, which hath taken away all pittie from mee to see men so foolishly compassionate of themselues. So­crates saith Feare would faine seeme wise, taking knowledge of what she neuer knew. Me thinks for anguishes, and paines, Marius should strengthen the backe of our resistance, when vpon some disease of his legges, without frow­ning or crying, or being bound to any thing but wisedome, he suffe­red the Surgion to search, and cut, and mangle, & cauterize the vaines of his legge: he would haue serued the other legge so, but that hee thought the disease not worth the curing: Thus expressed hee his [Page] paine, and yet seemed not touched with paine: It was a pretie triall, and he that vpon the like, cannot perswade Magnanimitie to resist weeping, let him obscure himselfe, and make account to doo nothing but preuent paine, and resist infir­mities with Phisicke. When For­titude feeles oppression, and an impossibilitie of being victorious, to eschew rashnesse, desperation, and fury, he turneth to Patience, which defends him from beeing ouercome though vanquished. No Fort can cōpare with the strength of this, which suffering makes af­fliction angry, rather then himself to be moued. Nothing here is comparable to the vnmoued dis­positiō wrought by Reason. The earth stands necessited because it cānot go, things vnsēsible because vnsensible, but to haue the feeling of calamities, to bee shaken with the winds & tēpests of Chaunce, [Page] and mortalitie, and yet not to be loosened, nor in danger of falling, is the most bewtiful, the most hap­pie, and the most renowmed hap­pinesse of man, so full of perfecti­on, as drawing liking to that ex­treame pitch, as it ends with Ad­miration. Who enioyes this Ver­tue really (for there are counter­faits resembling it) hath the preci­oussest Iewell of the world: the vertue of stones expelling poison, skins, bewitchings, and thunder­claps, hearbes, spelles, and Incan­tations, are not comparable, they are poore in vertues, and perhaps estimation in spight of them giues thē qualities: & though they haue them, it is commōly but one: but Patience resists poysons, bewit­chings, thunderbolts, spelles, In­cantations, & all calamities wher­to our life is subiect. Traditiō saith some things wil foretokē a mishap, [Page] and breake before the euent: but Patience in the midst of Calami­ties breakes not, no nor crackes.

The attribute of these outward Iewels of estimation, if we receiue good by them, must goe to them: but all these blessings light vpon our selues: we haue not onely the happines of safetie, but the sweet­nesse of not receiuing it from ano­ther. Lastly, no casualtie can de­priue vs of it, for wee loose our selues if it: nor can we be vanqui­shed with missing it, since he parts frō himselfe that wants it. Al these blessings are the trapers of the fur­niture of Patience, which no pow­er, no strength, no authoritie can make recreant. Then Praise bring the Garland of Victory, the Cha­riot of Triumph to adorne this Conquerour, and Fame out of the mouth of Enuy hale commenda­tions, and praises: who denies the [Page] attendance of his tongue vppon this Trophee, let him be cursed with being not capable of Vertue.

Thus Patience, thus Fortitude, thus Temperance, if Temperance, if Fortitude, if Patience be vnited, one is not enough, nor two, the consorting Harmony is not full enough: besides wanting one, the contrary not wanting, duskes all with counteruailing vices: but to be compleate, is to haue all, from which though we sometimes slide, let not that discourage vs, but vp againe, and happily with being ouercome, we may learne to ouer­come, which yeelds the content­ment of being victorious: Victo­ry brings forth Praise, and Praise ends with Eternitie; Eternitie to our name, and to our soules. Praise is the breath of Fame, which if o­uercome by Time, Eternitie re­uengeth, & ouercommeth Time, [Page] and in despight of his worme-ea­ten consumption liues in our best part, our diuinest in that, a life full of ioy, and knowing no end of ioy, carried to the heigth of blisse, by the wings of Eternitie, and Con­tentment, whose incomprehen­sible happinesse none can ima­gine, that are not happy in the en­ioying eternall Contentment.

Essay. 9. Of Entertainment.

THere are but two causes that pull on Ghests, Loue, & Bu­sinesse: I must in good na­ture make much of the former, and the latter, necessitie inforceth me to entertaine: but I like not to dwell vpon these. A short time may satisfie visitation, and busines not hindred by complement can­not last long.

[Page]Mee thinkes I should haue done now: It is tedious to meete with a fellow that will stay to day, and tomorrow, and the next day, on pur­pose to say he loueth. If he feare my memory, that he thus reitera­teth Loue, let him giue me some token of remembrance: this tar­rying perswades me rather the cō ­trary, hee is my enemy that thus eates vp my meate, and Time, without any cause that perswadeth his stay. Truly the name of a good fellow is so deare a title, that I had rather traffick with courser stuffe, and be called parsimonious, yea miserable if they will; It smartes not halfe so ill as the phrase, Euery Bodies friend but his owne. I knowe some whom modestie restraineth from telling Impudency theyr faultes: Alas good Vertue, that thou art growne a coward, and da­rest not discouer thy selfe. Well, [Page] I haue a medicine for these peo­ple, I will not be consumed liuing by these wormes: what's your plea­sure? this is my answere, farewell. These wordes haue an excellent vertue in them, they deliuer you to Solitarinesse, the mother of Contemplation, they keepe your house sweete, and at dinner if you like a dish, it is your owne faulte if you haue it not cold. When my occasions grow so desperatly mad, as in despight of me they will hale me abroad into throngs, and great assemblies, he that entertains me, I will him, speake to all, reserue a straunge familiaritie for the best, and my good word, and courtesie generally. I haue knowne some affecting Courtesie ouerthrowe their labours, with not hauing choyse of Complements, but con­founding a Gentleman, and a Pea­sant, with the likenesse of saluta­tion, [Page] and farewell: they were too blame to set vp shop so ill furni­shed. As men differ, so must their vsages, and respectes, not to all, I am the seruaunt of your seruaunts seruant. In truth I am naturally kind, and pittiful, and would glad­ly giue euery man a testimony, that I neither hate, nor contemne them. I will speake, and pittie, and lament with all, and to some giue my time without a fee, but not de­stroy my selfe for their sakes: they are no Gods, I need not sacrifice my selfe, there is crueltie in this courtesie, I must not do thus: mar­ry any kindnesse that shortens not in the spēding, that makes not the purse empty, and the houshold-booke rich in Items, I am readie to be their Hoste, and to enter­taine all: but to keepe open house vntil I shall be compelled to shut vp my doores, must be pardoned [Page] mee. I haue a purse, and a life, and all that I am for some fewe; but they are indeed but a fewe: Non omnibus Dormio.

Essay. 10. Of Ambition.

WE are all in darkenesse, the Sunne, and our eyes helpe vs not: for we see by them, trees, and woods, mountaines, and mē, but the light of reason is clow­ded: so doth our discerning but be­get Opiniō, & when we haue said we think thus, our knowledge is at the farthest. My steps are the steps of mortallity, & I do stumble and stagger for company, and crawle rather then goe; yet I desire to get further, and to discouer the land of light. To this end I reade & write, and by them would faine catch an vnderstanding more thē I broght with mee, before decrepitenesse and death catch me.

[Page] Cicero exacteth an extraordinary knowledge from his sonne, be­cause of his hearing, and conuer­sing with Cratippus. Mee thinkes more shuld be expected from me, who haue had, and carried about with mee, the excellent Philoso­phy of a soule. I am now come frō conuersing with Princes, great spi­rits, and high fliers, History hath possessed mee last, a knowledge meetest for vs, since most of the rest are supernaturall, and not of so ready vse: our thoughts heere runne leuell, and may ouertake, for they are earth, & we are earth; the rest haue too much lawe; It is a great start to be as farre as heauen before vs. What we call licorous­nesse in children, greedinesse in Clownes, misery in couetous per­sons, the same is ambitiō in a high­er fortune: the head of this humor is one, but in the disposing takes [Page] seuerall passages. To aspire is Am­bition, which is hope attempting, heere hope is abused which is gi­uen to man not to clime with, but to keepe him from fal [...]ing. It hurts not for all this, if we would allay the vigor, and prepare it, as we do Quick si [...]uer, which killing, cures. I would giue men leaue to looke vpwards to make themselues apt, and nimbl [...] to leape: let them a Gods name loue learning, the ex­perience of youth: let them ob­serue, and be expert in the know­ledges of men, and their actions; let them bee iust, temperate, and vertuous, all thi [...] time it is not [...]ll [...]t makes them more industrious, thē perhap [...] Vertue could so speedily: but to looke vpwards, and sink in­to the earth, to haue a high mind, and then to bestowe intollerable worship vpon a great man, meerly because he is great, I like not. I do [Page] not thinke but Vertue apparelled in a true magnanimity, must speed as well as a seeming good in insi­nuating basenesse: and I would ra­ther choose to rise by louing di­stressed Vertue, then by adorning pompe; it is much more cleanly, though more daungerous. Men mistrust thēselues when they trust more to pleasing, & soothing, then to their owne inward graces. If I be honest, valiant, and able to ma­nage great matters, doo I not a­buse them to flie for preferment so flattery, base seruitude, and ad­miration of their actions, who are worthy to be disdained? It is wor­thinesse to plucke Honour from daungers, and hazards, to aduen­ture famishing in a siege, to be the first at a breache, to lay hold at the grappeling of shippes, vntill the losse of both hands, and then to hold by the Teethe: this is the [Page] way to Honor directly; for which if there be not recompence, vpon their heades let it lye: Comfort cannot be wanting to these men of valour, that they haue restored to their Countrey, the blood, their Countrey once gaue them. Are not these vertues better then to wooe preferment as if shee were a wench, to send presents, to praise all, because we like some; to dance among the creatures of seruitude, three houres before our God doth rise, and then to thinke well of a nod for recompence? I doo not thinke it pride in my nature to ab­horre these, but a good safe care to keep her selfe from bemiring: for wee must not counterfayt, If wee worship Baal, we are no Christi­ans: and hee that declines to their adoration is not honourable.

I like wel of Augustus his choise of Senatours: Let him trie mee thus a Gods name, and reiect me if [Page] he list: I will subscribe to his wise­d [...]me, but neuer be bound to be the register of his Glory, nor to make off [...]rings to him, to pay, to pray, and to serue. Let them that will guild ouer th [...]ir fetters with the name of Pollicy, call him a good Polititian that can thus tem­porize, I thinke he is a slaue born, meeter to feare then loue, let him be whipped, not cherished. Thus I thinke seriously, though I write it in my talking stile, It may be it is the better, for commonly he is not st [...]cken againe, that laughes when he strikes.

Essay. 11. Of Discourse.

IT is a pittifull thing at great assemblies, to see how the rich, and gay will ingrosse the talke, and how basely they vse that com­moditie, not a word able to profit a Hackney-man: they send away Time worse appareiled then their Horse-keepers, poore and naked of what is precious, but loden with strawe and durt, good onely for Thatchers and Dawbers. At this time I suffer much, specially if I would choose rather to fill my eares thē my belly, I wish for Fid­ler, to cōfound them, or any noise sauing their owne: I would at this time loose my memory, for shee is couetous, and takes all, and with this she will pollute all, make all taste of Barbarisme.

[Page]In this time my eye wandering to finde a handsome cause of In­terruption, meetes with a fellowe in blacke, backe againe they come with their Intelligence and tel me they haue found a Scholler. I goe to this Vessell, and thirsting after some good licour, hastily pierce it, when there issueth medicines, or Lawe-tearmes: alas, it is either a Surgeon, or an Atturney, my ex­pectation hath broken her necke. Well these are places to grow fat in, not wise. Let vs trauaile some-whither else, to the Vniuersitie: Their discourse is good, but too fi­nicall, you vndoo them if you suf­fer them not to goe Methodically to worke. Nego maiorem, aut mino­rem, probo, Ipse dixit, &c. I like not this, except his aduersary be a Fen­cer too, there is no vnderstanding one another: It is a generall fault among the best professions: For [Page] Mercenary, and Mechanicke, it skilles not, It becomes them well to discouer themselues by theyr speech, but a Gentleman should talke like a Gentleman; which is, like a wise man: his knowledge ought to bee generall, it becomes him not to talke of one thing too much, or to be wayed downe with any particular profession. Heerein I admire Plato his Description of Socrates, who though a Souldier, and a Scholler, yet he discoursed still like Wisedome, which com­maunds ouer all. One knowledge, is but one part of the house, a bay-windowe, or a gable-ende: who builds his house so maimed? much lesse himselfe, no be compleate. If thy Ghests be weary of thy Par­lor, carry thē into thy Gallery: Be thus, but yet if thou meetest with a fellow, that wold faine show thee he is a Mathematicā, or a Nauiga­tor, be content to talk with him of [Page] Circles, and Quadrangles, of the Poles, and Nauigating Starres.

There is an other Creature that weyes euery word, and wil be sure to turne the verbe behind, affects elegancy, and to be thought lear­ned: this fellowe is formall, hee robbes himselfe of his commen­dations, with this premeditated course: mē looke for much, where they discerne such a preparation: besides, mee thinkes hee dresses Truth and Wisedome too gawdi­ly. It is the Country fashion to su­gar ouer what is naturally sweete: he profits not his Auditory.

I knew a Country Church fur­nished with a Clocke, whose ham­mer was stricken by an Image like a man, vpon the wheeles stood a Catte, which when the Image strooke, made such haste away, as the Parishioners when they shuld haue wept for their sinnes, and [Page] were moued therevnto by the Preacher, laughed at the Cattes nimblenes: so is it with this mans hearers, they catch at some prettie sounding words, and let the mat­ter slip without any attention. Let Ape-keepers and Players, catch the eares of their Auditory and Spectators with faire bumbaste words, and set speeches: It shalbe my course when I must discourse (but I had rather hear) not to loose my self in my tale, to speake words that may be vnderstood, and to my power to meane wisely, rather then to speake eloquently.

Essay. 12. Of Censuring.

THere belongs a dutie to eue­ry action, they are our preci­ousest Issue, beeing ours a­lone diuinely descended, the chil­dren [Page] of our soules, we must name them, our Censure is the Gossip, the names good, or badde. There was a time of no distinction, for all were good, and then Praise was superfluous, for they had motions, and instigations more excellent: but now we are so ill, that they de­serue thankes that are good, and must bee cherished: for vice hath perswaded Custome, that to call naught naught, is vnciuil, & daun­gerous. Things in suspence come only vnder Supposition, & Iudge­ment will not turne her selfe into Opiniō with medling with vncer­tainties. What's past is in the pow­er of our Censure, and it were pit­tie it should bee prohibited, since experience doubles our naturall discretions, and discourse addes to experience, beeing the Censure thrown vp & down in our brains, vntill the wisest with the strength [Page] of Reason, determines it. We are not without scandalizing, and re­proaching vaines, but they are oc­casioned either through enuie or malice, too foule, & mishapen mo­thers, to beare so faire a child as re­formation: yet I haue heard some wise men hold that venome of e­nemies not vnprofitable, that dis­couers our imperfections: what an vnhappie and monstrous world is this of ours, where the best Offices are performed by our worst ac­quaintance? For friends either we choose them il, or corrupt them, or there is no choyse, I feare the last, yet I think it possible, if we be good to make thē good: but our conuer­sation is to delight, not to better, we haue cōmerce, & trafficke with our goods, not our minds: Herein let me register my particular hap­pines, who haue parēts more care­full of my mind, then of my body, whose aduise, or example, if I will follow, I cannot stray.

[Page]But in this paper I was deter­mined to speake more generally; for particularities are offensiue: Which tender affection of ours, though I abhorre, yet I meane not to hazard my selfe with Innoua­tion. I will aduenture my opinion, but not my selfe for my opinion. Whether it be solitarinesse, or my conuersing with bookes, or that my youth hath not bene worthy of graue acquaintāce, I know not, but the greatest nūber (me thinks) are out of the way: their proiect, the end they determine at is low, and base. Since Time hath distild our bloods, and seperated vs from the crowde, I hold nobility bound not to commit any action tasting of a degenerate humor. Our soules though they can here take no es­sentiall addition, yet in titles they do: for our vertues sure wee were first preferd, which is the desert of [Page] our soule, our soules then are gen­tlemen, and we should apparell them▪ but we attribute all to our bodies, we feede them well, and cloath them richly, so that we haue Gentlemens bodies, and slauish minde [...]; nay euen our bodies, strip them o [...] cloaths, and worship, sute our mind [...], being grosse, and thick ribd, apt for nothing but a chaire with a backe, and a paire of slip­pers. Ease, and formalitie, are the highest wee reach at, and like see­ming Fencers, we are meeter for a flourish, then defence. It is the comfort of sorrowe, to search the cause of our mishaps: for this what shall we say, that Ambition is a fault, and Quie [...]nesse a blessing? No, but that our educations are rude, and we are blinded with Ig­norance. I disswade euery worthy spirit from the inticements of Am­bition, & Quietnesse I hold blest; [Page] but I hold not Idlenesse to be qui­etnes, but that that peace is good, which authoriseth the exercising goodnesse. Beside the bond we are obliged in to our Countrey, euen for our own satisfactiō (me thinks) we should be more industrious. I durst venture my life, there is no pleasure so sweet to age, blind, and decrepit, and by time robbed of all Health, and Contentment, as the meditation of good deeds: It is a rich inheritance which the father hath, and the children haue, & the whole houshold is graced with. If we bee asked how wee haue liued, how are we pierced, how coward­ly our sloath serues vs, leaving vs without all defence? Place two men in equall fortunes, the one the seruant of Vertue, & of his Coun­trey, the other of Idlenesse, and pleasure, fooles may determine him happiest that eates most meat, [Page] and keepes most men, but after their deathes, the eyes most blea­red with vice, cannot but acknow­ledge what a huge distance Fame makes betweene theyr memo­ries.

I haue knowne the extremitie of this Idle life, and of the other I haue had some litle taste, and euen that taste I so much preferre, as I reckon not my life from the time of my birth, but frō this day, how much they differ, what a tranquil­litie there is in the one, what wret­chednesse in the other, how plea­sing a sight is the inward aspect to the one, how horrible and fearfull to the other, that by mine owne experience I can affirme, I was afraide to thinke of my selfe, and neuer durst aske account of my owne life: their discourse & fami­liaritie how vnlike, this life able to better the Auditory, to set foorth [Page] Vertue in her fairest colours, the others motions like the penny-motions able to stirre, and stare, and downe againe. We patch and lengthē our hopes with such fraile and slender stuffe, imputing our misfortunes to our Desteny, and to the Tune, like Tiberius, asking a Gard of the Romane Senators, saying his loue had purchased the hate of the Common-wealth, whē it was his vnmeasurable crueltie. Neither in publike, nor in priuate liues, neede we be in this aduen­ture, it is no bodies fault but our owne: for Fortune hath no power of Wisedome, but of Sensualitie, and of liues that swimme and na­uigate without the Load-stone of Discretion, and Iudgement. I am brought in this Theme, to write with more then an ordinary vehe­mency, so certainly doo I knowe mans happinesse to rest in the mā ­naging [Page] his owne time: Euery man may be blest, and rich in perfecti­on, if his owne dissolutenesse, and vnthriftinesse, incurres not the contrary. I wish we were all thus carefull, and if I can, I will begin, which I should the better per­forme, if a generall consent of a­mendment were in euery bodies minde. Let vs one helpe another with laying open our diseases to one another: If our titles in our lands be neuer so litle cracked, or seame-rent, wee sweate with our blacke boxes, we are diligent in searching to recouer them, but our minds are seam rent, cracked, and bawdie, but we aske no helpe, nor endeuour to do any thing but to conceale them. For euery head­ache our vrines knock at the Phy­sitions doore, and we are inquisiue about the state of our bodies, but our conscience may exclaime, and [Page] cry out to vs, how sicke, and fami­shed our soules state is, and we wil not heare her. Times past were not more carefull, but imployed their care more worthily: I will be bounde in the Romane Com­mon-wealth, in the time of one mans Consulship more excellent deeds were performed, then there is now throughout the worlde in many yeares. Who can match me, Sceuola burning his hand without motion? Where is there a Rutilius that wil prize his Commonwealth so dearly, as to run into the Iawes of torment, and death? No, we drawe not euenly, but are carried away with particular Humours.

Lawes and inforcements, must keep vs from the extremitie of ill; what slauish mettalls are we made of in the meane time, that choose to feare punishment, rather then to loue Vertue? I blame nothing [Page] for this but Custome: It is in her power if shee will, to make shame smart as ill as whipping.

Lawes keep but the dregges of a Common-wealth in obedience, and them only from being too ill, but vpwardes it prouokes them not, nor any thing but Custome, and the estimation of Vertue.

All this time I haue built but the bridge I meane to trauaile vp­on, and not that annointed with a finicall Exordium. I trauaile where I list, and when I list, and will not binde my selfe to more then I list. Let my feete be bounde to come into the hal before the great cham­ber, my head shall see which I list first.

I hate the dulnesse of my owne feete, and my horses, when I tra­uell, and cherish the nimblenesse of my thoughtes which can flie o­uer the world in an afternoone.

[Page]I am determined to speake of bookes next, to whom if you wold not say I were too bookish, I shuld giue the first place of all thinges here. The best witte of man that euer was, not assisted by such helps as may make my comparison blas­phemy, neuer brought so much in­to the world, as by their assistance he hath had. When I heare a natu­rall man speak in his best, I can say but wittie, My comendations are at the farthest; but the tongue steeped in the true vnderstanding incident to learning, hath Wise­dome for his reward. Experience doth much, but it is too ful of scars and wounds, and is brought with gray haires, and danger: when the other hath no lesse that hath tra­uailed but in his study. In a word propounde any course sauing ea­ting, and sleeping, and wanting this, you are maimed: euen in the [Page] life of blowes, and warres, where strength seemes to beare more sway then vnderstanding, yet Ar­mor, Discipline, Marshalling, Ad­uantage of number, and scituation of the place, ends with the wel tu­ned Harmony of an Oration, whose force hath often beene as much as all the rest, and with the sweetenesse, added vigour to the harshnesse of Valour. Of Bookes, for both Philosophies, I onely esteeme Plato, who doth so cun­ningly weaue them together, as (me thinkes) he saith he is content to giue you knowledge, on condi­tion you should be honest. In the person of his Socrates, hee setteth downe one of the most absolute formes of life, that is possible to be imagined. I doubt whether he were so wel as his picture, yet Pla­to telles it so with the circumstan­ces, as I am afraide sometimes by [Page] doubting, to do him wrong: If he wanted not very much he is wor­thie of admiration, if very much, of applause, being the onely man that euer I heard of, most inno­cent of entertaining a forced grace for some second cause.

Of History if you wil haue me showe you the best first, I must begin, and ende with Tacitus, so graue a stile, so Iudicial a Censure, and so piercing an eye into the de­signes of Princes, and States, ne­uer met in one man: he is so wor­thie, that I wish hee were as rare, for I holde no eye meete to wade in him, that is not at the helme of a State.

For profitable Recreation, that Noble French Knight, the Lord de Montaigne is most excellent, whom though I haue not bene so much beholding to the French as to see in his Originall, yet diuers of [Page] his peeces I haue seene translated: they that vnderstand both lan­guages say very well done, and I am able to say (if you will take the word of Ignorance) translated in­to a stile, admitting as fewe Idle words as our language wil endure: It is well fitted in this newe gar­ment, and Montaigne speaks now good English: It is done by a fel­lowe lesse beholding to nature for his fortune then witte, yet lesser for his face then fortune; the truth is, hee lookes more like a good-fellowe, then a wise-man, and yet hee is wise, beyond ei­ther his fortune, or education: but his Authour speakes nobly, honestly, and wisely, with little method, but with much iudge­ment: Learned he was, and often showes it, but with such a happi­nesse, as his owne following is not [Page] disgraced by his owne reading: He speakes freely, and yet wisely, Censures, and determines many things Iudicially, and yet forceth you not to attention with a hem, & a spitting Exordium: In a word hee hath made Morrall Philoso­phy speake couragiously, and in steed of her gowne, giuen her an Armour; he hath put Pedanticall Schollerisme out of countenance, and made manifest, that learning mingled with Nobilitie, shines most clearly.

I haue done with Bookes, and now I wil sit in iudgement vpō all those that my memory can readi­ly produce, and it is no presumpti­on, L'euento spesso è giudice non Im­perito delie cose: Seeing the begin­ning, and ending, the circumstan­ces fal easily into euery head, espe­cially considering my opinion of these things is no part of my faith, [Page] neither do I holde them so obsti­nately that I will not doo Reason reason, and yeeld if I see cause. I thinke Courage in the time of A­lexander the great, was a great Gamster, Pol [...]cy at that time was not his crafts-maister; some vn­derstanding they had in marshal­ling an Army, In aduauntaging themselues by the ground, but in more hidden points they were not then exercised: thus I thinke his Conquestes the lesse miraculous: but yet from so yong yeares, from so little experience, the heigth of his attempt was honourable, and his proceedinges admirable: to keepe so warlike a people in so good a temper, argued a great strength of vnderstanding, yet do I blesse no action of his more then the faire vsage or his female priso­ners, considering their beautie apt to prouoke, his [...]emper being fie­ry, [Page] not to endure prouocation, one of these resistances shines beauti­fully, and as Cicero saith of Caesars clemency, is an action purchasing glory without sharers: His foun­dation was answerable to so high an enterprise, sharing out his par­ticular reuenewes among his fol­lowers, which wonne their loue: for meane fortunes loue wealth, high Fortunes Glory.

Among these, Perdiccas spake to my liking, who being offered an ample Patrimony, asked his maister what hee would leaue to himselfe, Alexander saide Hope, hee desired to rest there too: excellently well plaied on both sides: hee was a rare young man, whom Fortune followed, & with whome Death plaied good For­tune, for I thinke if hee had liued, hee would haue lost by the world, and growne downeward: so ex­cellent [Page] was his youth, as I am a­fraid his Age would not haue bin answerable, and then his Cornet would haue fallen out disgrace­fully, therefore he did well to die.

If the Senate of Rome had seene Caesar weepe that hee was not vp assoone as Alexander, I think they would haue cu [...]b'd him shorter, but hee offended worse in that iourny, when he protested among his Companions, that the first place in a little Village, was in his estimation more worthie then the second in Rome: I like not this o­pennesse, it was not sutable to Caesar, he played his Game well, but there was no cast like the re­conciling of Cassus, and Pompey, it wonne him the wager: Euen this one Action deserues a vo­lume, for there is muche in it, but I will thinke the rest, and giue it onelye a scratche with [Page] my pen: his Gouernment gene­rally was like Caesar, onely there rests two thinges that I am deter­mined to touch: the one his erec­ting again the Statues of Sylla, and Pompey throwne downe by theyr misfortunes, it was too late for their memories to hurt him, yet this elemēcy to his enemies, made his friends not doubt to speed wel vnder him, and those indifferent to finde him a good Lord: this was wel done. The other as ill, that ha­uing brought a gouernment free to a particular, and forestalled all Dominion, not to be content with the thing, but to thirst after the name of a Monarch, it was vnsea­sonably done, and in my opinion the hastener of his death. This puts me in minde of the contrary course vsed by the house of the Medici, who did pull the staffe of liberty so easily out of the peoples [Page] hands, that they had it before they were mistrusted: so by degrees did the sonne get farther then the Fa­ther, and the Grandchilde farther then the Grandfather, as if their soules before their communica­ting with their bodies had set in counsell about it.

Augustus the heire of Caesars la­bours, was borne fit (in my opini­on) to settle a new erected Empire Militem Donis. Populum annona, cunctos dulce [...]ine Otij pellexit: hee tooke the right course, for there is in the multitude a strength more then they knowe of, and in this new worlde, seueritie might haue brought them to trickes of Restinesse, able to haue indange­red their Rider, but hee loosened them, and gaue them lawes, and restrained the excesse of the mightie, things acceptable to the peo­ple, and with these good Innouati­ons, [Page] he turned their eyes from loo­king into times past, or practising to recouer libertie. But of all the Princes that euer my eyes haue met with in my reading, or my eares haue heard of by others, the onely Politian was Tiberius: his beginning was not ill, but full of wisedome, and somewhat vertu­ous, yet somewhat the better (as it is thought) for feare to be excel­led by Germanicus, whose power in souldiers, wisedom to mannage great matters, and loue to possesse himself of great matters, was such, as Tiberius liued iealous as long as Germanicu [...] liued at all: there was no lesse honest pollicy in Germa­nicus, who sawe Tiberius, yet was not able to shunne him: After a great Conquest of the Germanes, markes of Tryumph being set vp, Tiberius was mentioned in the In­sculpture, and the Conquerour [Page] left out, for hee knew well the couetousnesse of Tiranny.

Tiberius course with Germanicus was full of safetie, I cannot say honestie: first to remoue him from the gouernment of France, where he was strōg in the loue, and mul­titude of his souldiers, was vnder the cloake of rewarding his ver­tues with Tryumph: afterwards an Insurrection in the East parts was acceptable vnto him, to sup­presse which, he sent Germanicus, where he might bee nearer daun­ger, remote from Loue, and con­uersaunt with Chaunce: to ef­fect which, hee sent thither Pi­so, by base flattery to winne the Souldiours, and by opposing himselfe to Germanicus, to keepe forraine Princes from vniting themselues to him.

[Page] Germanicus died there (as it is thought) poysoned, which the people desirous to reuenge, hee suffered to keepe himselfe out of suspition, and yet with such hope to Piso, as kept him from discoue­ring the secret. His speech (euen in light matters) was obscure, and subiect to a subtile construction.

In the gouernment of forraine Prouinces, he made choise rather of a slowe delicate people, then of spirites of more excellency: as Suetonius saith he did of Vitellius, In inferiorem Germaniam missus est, contemptu magis quam gratia ele­ctus. In the ende this course made him grow doubtfull: for such peo­ple being vncaple of those places, indaungered the Empire; and such as were worthy, hee thought dan­gerous to his particular person: to auoyd which, he chose Gouernors of abilitie, which exercised their [Page] wittes in their places with the bo­dies of their Lieutenantes, and themselues hee kept neare him in person. I make no Apology for his vertues (for he was vnmeasura­bly vicious) but his pollicy neuer failed him but in his affection to Seianus, who surely had gone be­yond him, had he not bene hinde­red by the peoples hatred, and the number of his successours, rather then by himselfe. In the end, let me ende with Death, which last part giues either lustre, or blemish to our memories: nothing heere can stand, therefore let vs make it in our powers to goe out hand­somely. Feare (mee thinkes) is de­stinated to more vncertain euents, and therefore should not disturbe our conclusion, saying truely, I should forbid it in all things, but Diuinitie, for it hinders our inten­tions, [Page] and a seeming, makes vs doo things vnbeseeming.

Tacitus makes one of the Sem­pronij not wholely to degenerate from his house onely for dying well, Constantia mortis haud Indig­na Sempronio nomine. I know not any thing so certainly in our pow­er that carrieth with it more ma­iestie, and begets a more eternall, and continuall Honour: nor any thing that we may prouide for so certainely, and not be deceiued. Let vs a Gods name Hoc agere, when we liue, liue, and when wee are about death, tend our busi­nesse.

[Page]Though we haue many ex­amples notable in this kind among the Graecians, and that it was so conuersant with the Romanes, as nothing was more in fashiō: yet I wil name only two of seueral Sex­es, it may be they may ingender a­mong vs, and beget Resolution: I like them the better because vn­expected, therefore their manner of entertaining it not affected, it was Iulius Caesar, and Olimpia the mother of Alexander, they dyed comely, and had euen then when they were out of daunger of Reproofe, a care not to com­mit any ill beseeming Acti­on.

There is a last taste of things, that giues them the name of sweete, or sowre: from this wee haue drawne a Metaphor, that nothing goeth with full applause, [Page] that holdes not his perfection to to the end. Of life, and his appur­tenances Death is the last relish, which if it taste fearefully, & looke troubled, drawes the Censure to determine it licour full of the lees of Humours, rather then of clear­nesse, and puritie.

Essay. 13. Of Iestes, and Iesters.

I Thinke Iestes, and scabbes are much alike, both the aboun­dance of superfluous humours, & this breaking out more whole­some then pleasant▪ It defends the wit and the bodie from sicknesse.

If the most naturall abilitie bee thus deformed, what becomes of the affectors of this vaine, who in­force it in themselues? Surely if they determine not to beg with it, [Page] and so to mooue commiseration put it on, and nourish it as Beggers doo broken shinnes, I knowe not their vse. It is onely tollerable in them whose natures must of force haue that vēt, which vse it as some bodies do breaking of winde. But for them that will choose to loose a friend rather then a Iest, and de­sire to bee admired in laughter, and are out of countenance if their Iestes take not, they be in my opi­nion straunge creatures.

There is another sort worse then these, that neuer vtter any thing of their owne, but get Iestes by heart, and robbe bookes, and men of prettie tales, and yet hope for this to haue a roome aboue the Salt. I am tyred with these fellowes, my eares suffer at this time, more then at Parris Gar­den.

I would haue a Iest neuer ser­ued [Page] aboue once, when it is colde the vigour, the strength of it is gone. I refuse to weare buffe for the lasting, and shall I be content to apparell my braine in durance? by no meanes. Of things of this kinde, I would not desire to bee doubly furnished, for by that time one be worne, it is out of fashi­on.

There is a kinde of harmelesse wittie mirth, at sometimes not ill becomming, but the excesse is ab­hominable; especially to set the witte on the tenter-hookes for so base a purpose. He that happens on this mediocritie hath no euill chaunce, but to take paines, and to earne a Iest with labour, hee is in worse case then a Ballad-sin­ger.

Essay. 14. Of Youth.

MEe thinkes this same Youth is a very sicknesse, a malady full of distemperatures like an Ague, it wisheth for what would hurt it, is daungerously sicke, and yet will take no phisick. It is a straunge thing that the be­ginning of life should bee death thus full of vncurable diseases.

I haue long laboured in this in­firmitie, euer since I was borne, I am not yet cured: they say there is nothing good for it but time, which I cannot yet get, and there­fore am still sicke, though not so ill as I was: for I borrowed a litle of Experience, which hath done me [Page] onely this good to know I am not well, which hath made mee sen­sible: since I came to which my Occupation hath bene to obserue my selfe, and others. And if it be not the effect of a cruell nature, it would make a man laugh to see the diuersitie of their fittes, gene­rally all madde, but differing in the maner of their furies. Theyr braines are all so hotte, that they haue no vse of them, they are all numme, onely their senses are lest them, in whose pleasure they liue. Some giue all to their sight, and loue to looke vpon nothing that lookes not faire, & yet they looke in the Glasse to finde themselues, when a more beastly sight they cannot finde in the world. Thus doo they attribute all to their sen­ses, though they differ in allow­ing the preheminence.

It is with them as with the In­dians [Page] for their Gods, some worship the Sunne, some the Moone, Beastes, Fishes, and Foules, or whatsoeuer else it pleaseth theyr fancies to preferre. Sometimes they growe inconstant, and vary their delights.

There is most hope of these, for I holde, that Inconstancy the working of theyr soule, who loa­thing this language of earth which shee vnderstandes not, sheweth them betimes the ende of theyr delights to be griefe.

I haue noted when these sence­pleasers haue come from any of their sportes, what a naked dis­cou [...]se hath followed: howe well Iumball gaue it in such a dry path, he hath a Nose cries one, lyke a Beagle, and yet a verie deepe mouth: if verie deepe, deeper then his head, for that is too too shallow: In this kinde passe they [Page] all their time, and some worse: and yet these are the best sorte of youth, there is great hope of these: mee thinkes there should be so of their Dogges too, for they receiue all from them.

In the other sort more riotous, I can cōmend nothing but their resolution, surely they meditate much on Death, and thinke not to liue till to morrowe, for they take care onely for to day.

Thus much I know of Youth, I would I could tell you the dispo­sition of Age too, for I am weary of this life.

Essay. 15. Of the obseruation, and vse of things.

I Come nowe from discoursing with an Husband-man, an ex­cellent stiffe slaue, without ob­seruation, respect, or ciuilitie, but not without a great deale of wit, if it were refined, and seperated frō the durt that hangs about it. I haue sold him an houre of my time, and haue ware for it, good sound prin­ciples, in truth becomming a bet­ter fortune: This time hath not bene lost, for his experience, his learning of Tradition, and his na­turall witte hath enformed mee of many things, I haue picked out of him good Philosophy, and Astro­nomy, and other obseruations of Time, and of the world: all which though hee imployes about durt, and allotteth to that ende, hinder not me from making a more wor­thy vse of them.

[Page]There is not that thing vppon the Earth, that well examined, yeeldes not something worthie of knowledge: that diuine Artisan that made them, neuer fashioned any thing vnprofitably, nor euer set forth any of his workemanship without some inward vertue. I do first prescribe them that desire to proue excellent in distilling these simples, to lay in good store of the fuell of learning: whatsoeuer he hath of his owne naturall witte is not sufficient, it makes not the fire hotte enough: for there is a great deale of tough vile stuffe to be drawne out, before what is pure can be gotten: but then (I tell Ig­norance a miracle now) hee shall not see, nor touch that thing, that will not adde to his wisedome: for thinges are a kinne to one ano­ther, they come all out of one Fountaine, and the knowing one, [Page] bringes you acquainted with an other, and so to others. All kinde of bookes are profitable, except printed Bawdery; they abuse youth: but Pamphlets, and lying Stories, and News, and two penny Poets I would knowe them, but beware of beeing familiar with them: my custome is to read these, and presently to make vse of thē, for they lie in my priuy, and when I come thither, and haue occasion to imploy it, I read them, halfe a side at once is my ordinary, which when I haue read, I vse in that kind, that waste paper is most sub­iect too, but to a cleanlier profit: I see in them the difference of wits, and dispositions, the alterations of Arguments pleasing the world, and the change of stiles: this I haue in despight of him, be he ne­uer so ignorant: and if hee hath a­ny thing good among such store [Page] of ill, why that is mine too. I haue not beene ashamed to aduenture mine eares with a ballad-singer, and they haue come home loaden to my liking, doubly satisfied, with profit, & with recreatiō. The pro­fit, to see earthlings satisfied with such course stuffe, to heare vice re­buked, and to see the power of Vertue that pierceth the head of such a base Historian, and vile Au­ditory.

The recreation to see how thoroughly the standers by are af­fected, what strange gestures come from them, what strained stuffe from their Poet, what shift they make to stand to heare, what ex­tremities he is driuen to for Rime, how they aduenture their purses, he his wits, how well both their paines are recompenced, they with a silthy noise, hee with a base re­ward. There is not any thing re­tained [Page] in my memory from the fi [...]st that profits me not: some­times I renew my nurses stories, and being now strong, and able to disgest them, I finde thē not with­out nourishment. My after life (though I lament the bestowing it, because I shuld haue put things more precious in first, yet it) is not without profit. I was bound then to Arthur of Brittaine, and things of that price, for my knowledge was not able to trafficke with any thing more rich, Stowes Cronicle was the highest, yet I haue found good vse of them, they haue added to my experiēce. My exercises, & recreatiō [...], or rather (as I thē vsed them) occupations, I finde worth somewhat. I would not loose my knowledge of Hawkes, and run­ning Horses for any thing, they are not without vse, I meete often with people that vnderstand no [Page] other language, & then they make me sociable, and not vnpleasing to the company. If out of these dregs there bee good iuice to bee got, what is there out of more noble obseruations? truly an incredible knowledge: he that can make vse of them, may leaue reading, and profit no lesse by these. If out of these blotters of paper many things may be extracted not vn­worthy of note, what may we ex­pect from Homer, Virgil, and such Poets? If in Arthur of Britaine, Huon of Burdeaux, and such sup­posed chiualrie, a man may bet­ter himselfe, shall hee not be­come excellent with conuersing with Tacitus, Plutarch, Salust, and fellowes of that ranke? Here stay thy selfe, and read with attention: Mee thinks Plutarches liues shuld make euery man good that reades them, he may take his choise of [Page] such a number of courses, and fit his nature with his temperature: Some onely the seruants of Ver­tue, others vsing her for their own sakes: some swayed with their for­tunes, others immoueable. Cicero showeth thee how to speake well, and to take a care of thy selfe. Sci­pis onely lookes to the flourishing of his Countrey. Themistocles bur­ning with Ambition, sleepes not vntill he hath gotten a life answe­rable to his nature. Alcibiades an excellent patterne of wisedome to him that will temporize. Alexan­ander prophesies of himselfe with weeping at his fathers Conquests, a testimony that Vertue wil shew it self before it hath power to per­forme any thing. It is older then the bodie is, readie long before it. Pyrrhus representeth to vs the vn­certaintie of the worlde, not hol­ding any of his Conquests sure: It [Page] may be an aduise to some spirits to make them prefer a poore cer­tainty, before these wauering for­tunes, to which purpose one saith, Beatior fuit Fabritius animo, quam Pirrhus regno, It is true, the inward Riches are onely our owne, but to dedicate a life onely to their vse, is to enioy an inuisible commodi­ty, to burie wealth. Demetrius was a Commixture of vertues, and vi­ces, and (me thinkes) his end de­clares his vices onely to bee natu­rally his, for his chaunge of fortune made him giue ouer Vertue; hee was content to forget her, on the condition not to remember his fortunes, he betrayed Vertue, and died a drunken dicer. Salust is ex­cellent in his description of men, If thou likest a seuere honest gra­uitie, looke vpon Cato, this fellow sure was naturally good; but some­what too well contented to bee [Page] thought so: If I were not a Chri­stian, I should like well of his death, especially of the manner of it: It is nothing to die, but that night to studie earnestly, I do infi­nitely allow: since I may not ad­mire him, I will pittie his death, and withal, the feeling the points of the two swords, that was not sutable, I am afraid he was afraid of paine, I am sory for this, the rest was very good, his other calme­nesse shall make me pardon this motion.

From Cateline may bee taken many obseruations, but they are like the man daungerous: then but this. All qualities without the di­rection of vertue profit not, but ouerthrowe their possessours.

From Tacitus concise stile, there are many I [...]wels to be got­ten, he begins [...] the common Iudgement that followes a cruell [Page] luxurious gouernment. All that I can say of Nero, is, I blame him not for being afraide of Death, it was not hee, it was the remembra [...]ce of an i [...]l life, and riches▪ the betray­ers of men to cowardise. Galba tea­cheth Princes, there is daunger in trusting seruants too farre: he wit­nesseth the indiscretiō of the peo­ple wishing for Nero againe, be­cause he was yong, and handsome, and faire, wheras Galba was riueld, and old; their eares are their Iud­ges. I haue bene content to taste Histories, and their obseruations, that I might tell them that yet know it not, that there is yet some­thing else to be noted besides the Series of the History. As out of these, so from our liuing Relatiōs, from men, and from their actions, of all which, I [...]cretion will make as much vse, as an obseruing sto­macke doth of meates agreeing, or disagreeing with his disgestion.

Essay. 16. Of Opinion.

IT befalleth me now, to speake of the straungest thing of the world, & yet it is nothing, and for al that, scareth the most migh­tie; It is a monster, halfe Truthe, and halfe Falshood: It receiues all formes, sometimes taking resem­blances most pleasing, other times most terrible: It cleaues most to great Fortunes, and yet liueth vp­on the breath of the vulgar; It is desired, and shunned; serued, and scorned: Sometimes it maketh her seruants Industrious, sometimes treacherous. It is often a cause of things looking like good, & faire, more often of wickednesse, and [Page] sinne: In a word it seemes to doo much, and doth nothing; And all her followers looking like spirit, and Resolution, are the very es­sence of basenesse, and cowardise: they are worse then blind mē that haue a dog for their guide, for they dare doo nothing of themselues, vnlesse they first aske counsaile of Opinion: She is much made loue too by base Ambition, by Thir­sters after promotion: Some at­tempt to win her with little ruffes, short haire, and a graue habit, de­cent lookes, fewe words, and so­brietie: These would faine haue her say they are graue, wise, sober, temperate men, worthy of pro­motion, meete to bee part of the tacklings of a Common­wealth.

There is an other sort court her with fine speeches, would bee thought wise, and learned, but [Page] these neuer vtter their ware but in great assemblies, where they may hope certainely of witnesse. It sometimes makes cowardise to ad­uenture vpon daunger, but they will seldome make triall of them­selues alone, they like not night-seruices, nor secret▪ Stratagems: A pitch'd field is too little, and the eye of the Generall must at­tend them, or else they like it not.

It is wisedome▪ with them to loose no labour, and prodigalitie to conceale vertue, it is worse then to weare cloath of gold inwardly, and fustian outwardly, they al­lowe of no secret expence, it is vnthriftinesse: They often goe like Vertue, speake like Vertue, doo like Vertue, but that is where Vertue is in fashion, for as it alters, they alter, they loue not her, but Opinion.

[Page]Opinion the mother of Hipo­crisie, who coynes counterfet mo­ney vnder the stampe of Vertue, which nothing can disprooue but the touch-stone of both Fortunes: surely these people ought to bee pittied, for they take more paines thē the vertuous; for these last vt­ter their ware as Occasion giues them leaue, and when t'is done, t'is done▪ the other are faine to get cō ­pany togither, to make frends, and all the time of their performing any thing, their mind is dictracted: they desire to doo it well, and are earnest about that, and as earnest­ly are their eyes and eares busied at out their allowance, which if they haue not, they are throwne lower in their imaginations, then the Center of the Earth: theyr paines are thrice more, their re­ward much lesse; the allowance of the people, the applause of vncer­taine [Page] Ignorance, which if they do not as much to morrowe, is lost: but the vertuous haue an inward satisfaction, and a sure expectati­on of an eternall reward. If at any time the attempts of these Secta­ries of Opinion bee espied, and that the cause of theyr seeming good bee knowne, they are then the very pictures of wretchednes, more base then a Spittle-house, they lament, and howle, and chide Fortune bitterly: thus is it with them in their apprehensiō; of mis­fortune, they are more subiect to take infection then the best com­plexions, their imaginations mul­tiply griefes, they adde more ter­ror then it is possible they should suffer: An ill Dreame to them is worse then the sword of an Exe­cutioner to Resolutiō: In a word, they know nothing; neither doo they thinke of any truly, but the [Page] excesse of delights, or griefes wor­ries them worse then a beare boūd to endure ten dogges. Hee that loathes this life, let him not be­leeue any thing rashly, let him loue Vertue, let him aspire to Ca­to his description, of whom Salust saith, Esse quam videri bonus male­bat. Let him neither be subiect to vaine-glory, nor flatterers, nor re­spect cōmendatiōs, nor reproofes, farther then they go with Truth: If otherwise, let him defend his eares from their noise, & let them passe without attention, for they are but as fawning dogges. This course will defend him from being bewitched with words, and beget Iudgement, the cause of all well performed Actions.

Essay. 17. Of Discontentments.

SHall we rob our selues of Con­tentment because our bodies are mortall? or shall wee esteeme it the best assistance of our friend to weepe? I shall doubt of the che choise of my Counsailour, if his Proemium be bewailing, and his instructions teares. Our griefes originalls are two, both arise from the body, the one the issue of Pleasure, the other of Griefs: the first is the most honest, the [...]ast most foolish. Whē our body hath rebelled, & becommeth the slaue of lust, it is well done of the soule to lamēt his obstinate folly, but to simpathize with the bodies griefs, and aches, and paines, to spend ex­clamatiōs vpon a thing necessited, it is most ridiculous.

[Page]We haue many faire examples before vs, rather to be followed, then admired; for I thinke it not impossible to put on this Habit of Resolution. It is an armour (mee thinkes) of excellent proofe, to meditate of the Eternitie of our worthiest part, and to thinke this compact of the Elements must suffer a dissolution. Whatsoeuer God doth by a Medium, must know an ende, what immediately belongs to Eternitie. Heere doth Philosophy according to Plato, giue the Soule againe her winges, and helpes her to blowe the Coale of her first light, and makes her to distinguish betweene Earth, and her owne Essence: and when any of these Tooth-aches of the body come, shee teacheth that they are to be entertained, not as straun­gers, but as Familiars that we haue long expected. Who hath bene [Page] acquainted with this Philosophi­call life, cannot but end with Pla­to in his Axiochus, Tantum abest vt timeam mortem, vt nunc etiam te­neor Amore. Reso [...]ued of this, mee thinks Things short of this should lay no holde of vs; but alas we are so vsed to this bewayling, as if we haue no cause for what wee feele, we will for what we see, for the losse of money, and things of that kinde: and if these be not readie, we will weepe at a Tale, or at a Puppet play. It skilles not, If the body onely were at this expence, but our soules will accompany them, and bee so foolishly kinde, as to lament for that they neuer knew. Writing of this, Contem­plation desires me to protest her the onely Curer of these Diseases: and she is so indeed: There is no way to make this seperation but by her: shee sheweth her seruants [Page] those Terrours vnmasked, which are found to be no other then like Chimeraes, begotten betweene Feare, and Darkenesse, which vanish with the Light, and are ex­pelled by the eye-light of Know­ledge.

Doest thou lament for what is to come? Why? because it is not come? No, because it is greeuous, and wilt thou double thy griefes with pulling them on before they come? Are they come? why it is too late to weepe: If thou wilt do any thing, please thy body with getting Cure: If it be vncurable, Lamentations are vaine: There rests nothing then, but to imitate cunning Porters, get somewhat to saue thy shoulders, and learne to carry it with the greatest ease. I neuer yet sawe griefe of so deep a Dye, that Time hath not chan­ged: [Page] were it not better to be ones owne Phisition? and though we haue lost Friendes, Reputation, and Riches, the houshold-stuffe of esteeme in the world, yet if we holde Patience we are not poore: And among the wise, the estima­timation will rather encrease then decrease with these tryalls. Come then, let vs maintaine this Fort resolutely, there is no safetie but here, Nullus locus est, quo non possit Fortuna prosequi, yes, heere shee cannot: this place is diuine, and immortall, and shee commaunds ouer nothing that is not sensible: for the other, Vitij affectus proprius est displicere sibi: Beholde this woorkeman who hath made vs so contrary to vice, as wee ne­uer taste her, but shee riseth in our stomackes, and checkes our Intemperancy.

[Page]Here are the best motions that the Soule hath of the Body, shee erreth not from her Diuinitie to be thus charitable for her self, and her Companion: there is no Diui­nitie so easie to be comprehended by our sences, neither is there any that carries more terrour with it. When our inticing Fantasie hath dressed a Delight pleasingly, and presents it to the r [...]st, they all like it, and it is speedily bought: after­ward our Conscience showes vs our choyse, when behold it is most ougly, and deformed: our Senses we cry out, haue deceiued vs, but that will not serue: our once kis­sing it, makes it follow vs perpetu­ally. Here hath she cause to weep, and to pittie our torments, enfor­cing vs to remorse, and an after care with impression of her la­mentations.

Essay. 18. Of Sleepe.

MY custome is about this time of day to sleepe, to auoide which now, I choose to write: so, if this be a drowsie stile, and sleepily done, yet if it be not worse then sleepe, I goe not back­ward, for it serues in sleeps roome. This Sleepe is to me in the nature that Dung is to Ground, it makes the soyle of my Apprehension more solid, and tough, it makes it not so light, and pleasant, and I am glad of it, for I finde my selfe too much subiect to a verball quick­nesse: thus I thinke it good for me that am of a drye barraine mould; but for others it may hap to make [Page] them too waterish: the cause of this is common as the effect, yet as some bodyes are more subiect to it then others, so meates of one kinde prouoke it more then another. This makes me often play the Epi­cure, making my stomack a cow­ard, to fight with Partridge, Phe­sant, and such fowle, whose Airye parts are more fine, and poyson not the Braine with thick vapours. These foure-footed Beafts are dull and grosse, and so is what proceeds from them. Well, for my part I will put away this sleepy Humour, for it is an extreame spender. When I come at the end of a weeke to reckon how I haue be­stowed it, in that seuen Dayes I finde nothing, but Item in sleepe, Item in sleepe: And in the end Summa totalis, seuen nights, se­uen Afternoones, beside halfe houres, and quarters, at vnac­customed [Page] times: there is no pro­portion in this, especially to be­stowe so much on winking. I can­not blame Alexander though he misliked it, and held that, and Lust, the Arguments of Mortali­tie: If he had vsed eight of clock-houres, the Persian Empire might yet haue stood. Not so much but good Husbands hate it; And Pedantes haue made it a mayne supporter of their instructions. I would liken it to Death, but that it is more terrible, for it is Idlenesse; yet thus it is Death, for it killes Eternitie. Fame ne­uer yet knew a perpetuall Bed­presser. Is it not a pittifull thing to see a fellow bestow halfe his Patri­mony in hobby-horses? then pitty all them, who hauing but a little time, dedicate halfe that to sleepe. But this is the effect of our Bodies, who in despight of our soules Di­uinitie, [Page] will follow their naturall Inclinations, to lye along, and be sencelesse like their Earthly Ori­ginall.

Essay. 19. Of Life, and the fashions of Life.

THere haue beene great Con­tentions about my Minde, and my Body, about this Argu­ment of Life; they are both very obstinate in their Desires: I cannot blame them, for which so euer pre­uailes, depriues the other of the greatest Authority. My Soule ex­tolles Contemplation, and per­swades me that way; my Body [Page] vnderstands not that language, but is all for Action. He tels me it is vnproper, being of the world, not to liue so, and that I am borne to my Countrey, to whom imbra­cing this contemplatiue life I am vnprofitable: the other wants not reasons forcible, and celestiall. It hath beene my continuall labour to worke a reconciliation between them, for I could not perfect any course by reason of this Diuision. Earth & Heauen cannot be made one, therefore impossible to ioyne them together: onely thus much I haue done, they are content I shall take my choise. All this time I was not Masterlesse, nor idle, I put the common phrase out of fashion: he that sayes of me onely, He liues well, speakes too sparingly of me: for I liue to better my minde, and to cure my body of his Innate dis­eases. I must choose the Actiue [Page] course, my birth commaunds me to that: I am set aboue many o­ther in the Herralds bookes, not to sit [...]ighest at a Table, nor to be worshipped with caps and knees, but to haue a care of my countrey. The aduancer of my House first did certainely see some worth in my predecessours meete to go­uerne, or at least wise to be an ex­ample to lower degrees, to that end they were erected higher then ordinarie, that euery eye might behold them: If their blood were refined by the Prince on that con­dition, if I pay it not after them, I am worthy to forfeite it. I will then religiously obserue the dooing my Country seruice; If she imploy me not, I sinne not though I betake my selfe to the secret betterer of mindes, Contemplation: Howso­euer, I must begin here; for as Nur [...]es Lectures instruct little [Page] Children by seuerall obiects, to know sensible things, and by that little giue them the knowledge of a Boy: Being past that Age, and come to the new life of a man, Phi­losophy must then be his Nurse: and as his first institution taught him words, and to distinguish of things by words this teacheth him the meaning of those, and to di­stinguish things by Reason: he re­ceiued first single obiects by the intelligence of the sences: In that time hee learned to speake, the Schoolemaster taught him to put together, and to inlarge his buil­ding, he made him capable of vni­uersalities, and the highest know­ledges.

[Page]It is so, he gouernes by gesse that is not a Philosopher, he is a daun­gerous states-man: for when vn­controwled Affections meete with a high fortune, they beget Tyran­nie and Oppression. I haue not then altogether lost my time, I haue beene adorning my house within: It is my Desire not to haue it lye slouenly, I make it ready for Ghests, that is for Imployment; if they come not, it is no matter, it shall be the better for my selfe to liue in. I care not though some nice Brainestaxe me of Immode­stie, for protesting my selfe thus de­sirous to do my Countrey seruice: my Soule can witnesse for me, it is no particular Loue: thankes be to God, I know not much of want, neither desire I Riches: I am borne to sufficient. It is true, I thirst after Honour, and would be glad to leaue my House some testimonie [Page] I haue not beene vnprofitable that way, which may be purchased in an honest quiet life, aswell as in the other. I am afraid of nothing, but that in this contemplatiue life I should be thought idle, and in es­chewing company, to be of Domi­tians [...]ect, a Fly-catcher. We Gen­tlemen are very subiect to this, therefore it is not Iealousie but Prouidence in me to suspect: we are indeed generally slothfull, our contention is not which is the most honorable life, but which affordes most pleasure. So doth the patri­mony of our Auncestours (which rightly vnderstood, will giue vs ad­uantage ouer men) destroy vs. I cannot blame a Begger, though he thinke more of his Dinner, then of the definition of Fortitude, or the purchase of Glory: he is vio­lently haled to the vpholding of his body: nor is it an ill commenda­tion [Page] for a Ploughman, to bee sayd to bee a prouident man for the world, and to haue a care to keepe his familie from staruing: but to him that already hath inough to defend him from basenesse, and mi [...]ery, shall he onely eate, and drinke, and make an euen recko­ning at the yeares end? Fye, it is baser then basenesse: No, let him purchase Honour to his house. Me thinkes Fathers should giue their Sonnes this Counsaile, and it is oddes but they doe: If not, sure they thinke it, & would haue them finde it out. I am afraid our much Eating, and litle Exercise, is the cause of this our lowe flying, and heauinesse: our many Crudities send vp dull heauy vapours, that makes vs like better of a bed, then of a saddle. I would wee were Ambitious: I wish for vs, as for a slouenly Boye of mine owne, [Page] whom I perswaded to pride, there­by to escape the contrary; if I could haue obtained, I would haue thought to haue shauē off his pride in a small time, and left him onely cleanlinesse. I know Ambition to be a fault, but they that will not vn­der-go Actions for Vertues sake, will for Ambitions. I would pro­pound Fame, Greatnes, Honour, Estimation: for wading to finde these, we may happly meete with Honesty, Temperance, Fortitude, and Patience: so must ill stomacks haue wholsome things couered ouer: let them be sweete on Gods name, so that the pleasantnesse take not away the good opera­tion.

The next diuision after this choise, is to aduise and execute: my know­ledge of these is by reading, not by experience, yet did I once touch at the baye of Armes, but [Page] so short was my stay, that I trust more to my reading then to my Experience. Plutarches Liues are aboundantly stored with men of both kindes. I allowe well of the Consull Cicero; his wit and feare preuented a daungerous conspira­cie: but yet I am much more raui­shed with the liues of Alexander, Caesar, and fellowes of that kinde, Me thinkes it becomes a Counsel­lour well to act his Aduice, it agree­eth with reason, for he vnderstands well what should be done when it comes from himselfe. There is a braue satisfaction in a minde that conuerseth with Daunger; hee dooth rightly serue his Countrey, whose Body executeth what his wisdome plotteth. Sometimes when I haue read the life of Cicero, I thinke him a good Oratour, he deserued his fee: but Caesar is so much beholding to me, that I put [Page] him on, and all the time I am rea­ding of him, his happinesse is mine, his daunger is mine: when I am out of my dreame with comming to, Et tu Brute, I should be very sorry this imagination could last no longer, but that not being my selfe, I may without Ostentation cōmend him, O Caesar worthy of an eternall memory, and of neuer en­ding praises. Reading these liues I am inflamed, my thoughts soare high, and I am sorry I cannot carry my Body to that pitch. When I heare of any famous Action of our time, I suffer with Themistocles, it takes away my sleepe, not with En­uie, but with an honest Emulation. I desire to robbe no man of his Glory, but to participate with Ex­perience: well it pleaseth not my Destiny, I hope it will do, that's my Comfort: In the meane time I will see Battailes in Imagination, [Page] and reade them, since I may not be in them.

Essay. 20. Of Imitation.

THe first times had a great ad­uantage of vs; all came from them we must now say, because they got the start, spake before vs, and liued before vs. In trueth I thinke they were more industri­ous; for out of their naturall wits, and obseruations, they founded Arts, and Sciences, in which they were much more profound then latter times, though we are assisted by their trauailes, and know whi­ther [Page] we should goe, and how to go by their methodicall courses. We must lay the fault to Couetousnes, and Pleasure, with whose intice­ments we are diuerted, so that wee choose now rather to be rich men, then wise mē: In these trades they haue not outrun vs, our times may safely brag with them, that we haue hunted out more fashions to please the senses, and to get riches: the age after vs, that shall see both, must be our Iudges, who, I am afraid, will determine the times of old, times begetting Philosophers & wi [...]e mē, ours an Age of Cookes and Tay­lours. I wonder not that Vertue is so out of regard: for wee imi­tate nothing but what wee see. Plato his Socrates, and Xenophon his Cyrus, are things to bee talked of, not to bee worne. I should bee sorrie for our tymes, (but that it is out of fashion to be sorrowfull [Page] for others) to see how willingly we put on all habits sauing Vertues: Our haire shall go off, or on, as oc­casion serues, we will pull our browes, and indure any paine to imitate the fashion, but not inter­taine the least Vertue, though she offer her selfe, and would be ours with lesse paines and expence. All this time we are free from imitati­on, yea from following the good, but in the apish kinde we are ex­act: for a new Congye, or protesta­tion we swallow presently, and the fashions of our Apparell runne a­mong vs like a Plague. I obserue a people that will tell you where they were last, by their behauiour, and table-talke, as well as vpon the inwardest acquaintance: If he hath but seene Cāllis, he cryes out of the English Beere, and that with a shrug, and shaking of the head, as if he knew more thē he durst vtter. [Page] A yeare in Italy makes him forget his English, and speake it broken, and [...]ping: they runne away with all villanous customes, and thinke it fine to talke of Ciulia and Lucre­tia the famous Curtizans. Me thinkes these fellowes are like Suc [...]-balles, that carry away part of the Durt they are rowled vpon. These are base Imitations begot­ten betweene the sences, and the fantasie, bastards vnknowne to the inward true discerning soule.

There are another kinde that will holde their necks awry with Alex­ander, these are not wanton but subtile Apes, which seeke to creep into Princes, and great men, with putting on their Habits, they are the dāgeroussest flatterers. Come, I will make an end with these fan­tastickes, they go against my sto­mack, they are worse then Onions, I can commend them for nothing: [Page] sometimes perhaps the stuffe they weare is good, and the stockings, and the hat, and the rest, all sauing the man: they are like Hatters blocks, that weare what is worthier then themselues. But now to a worthier subiect, I will not reiect Imitation, yet I will hardly imitate any man liuing, especially in things apparantly his, as his Behauiour, & accustomed Phrases: In vertue it is very lawfull, for that is neither his, nor mine; it carryes no marke of any owner, but of the reall pos­sessour of Eternity, whom if we could imitate in the least perfecti­on, we were blessed.

There are a great sort past, as woorthy as any liuing, among whom I will choose some one, by whom I would be most gouerned, yet not in all things, for I would not licence my selfe to put on his imperfections: I haue too many [Page] of mine owne that were borne with me, I haue no neede of his: but when he speakes well, and vertuously, I would thinke he speakes to me, and do my ende­uour to execute his Aduice: the Actions performed by him I hold like the Vaulters Instructions done first to shew me how to per­forme them with greatest faci­litie.

We are beholding to times past, they haue shewed vs the ends of all Courses, we may know Vertues and Vices, as liuely by their Ex­ample, as Lycurgus taught it the La­cedemonians in the persons of their Ephori, and the Hel [...]s their slaues. If I finde my strength able to fol­low one of these, and to get honest Vertues by Heart, I will take out a new lesson, and buy some perfecti­ons of others, wherein he was wan­ting. Thus is Imitation innobled, [Page] and well becomes the worthyest: so shall he enioy abundance, when he hath his owne store multiplyed with gathering from the stored with Vertue.

Essay. 21. Of Behauiour.

PHilosophies strictest Inquisition of the Soule, dooth not more liuely expresse her then Behaui­our: for hers are Notions darke, and obscure, too heauy for euery head to carry away, but this giues our sences a sight of that Diuinity, and is the very picture of the in­ward minde. Here may be read the differences of men, and a short obseruation shall tell thee as much [Page] as a long conference: It can be no other then a shadow of the soule, such a sweetnesse it carryes with it, so much comlinesse, so much con­tentment. The Bodyes respect is ouerthrowne by this euidence, let his Beauties be neuer so excellent, if not assi [...]ted by Behauiour, they turne all to Disgraces, & his white­nesse dooth nothing but make his spottes more visible. Contrarily, I haue seene deformed Bodyes, and ill fauoured Countenances, highly in mens estimations, and dearely beloued, being accompa­nied with a handsome, and discreet gouernment. This cannot be per­formed exactly, if the Soules pow­er, and Discourse be not regarded, which makes me thinke the bodies thus happy, substances of Christall transparent. When I meete with a dull fellow that hath no other te­stimony of his being awake, but [Page] that his eyes are open, I determine him a fellow dro [...]ned in [...]legme, and puddle: for any thing I know he hath no soule, for there ap­peares nothing but a durty peece of flesh. ‘At me cum legcris etiam formosa videbor’ Saith the Poet: this is to be com­pleate when the eye shall be satis­fied, and the soule not displeased. There is hardly another thing so absolute, as to be able to giue them both intertainement together. Of Particularities (me thinkes) Cour­tesie chalengeth the chiefe place, and would be dispatched first: truely among all other vertues, ex­cept it be Liberality, I know none rewarded by men but this, and if for nothing else, me thinkes it should be esteemed for the pre­sent [Page] paiment: It payes a great sort, and is neuer the poorer, satisfies euery man, and lessens not the stocke: It is the true Character of a good natured Discretion, and so powerfull, as the shadow of it hath raised many men to great for­tunes: but that's the abuse. I would Vertue would put away Patience, and become chollerick, and reuenge: she neuer had more cause, being made a Bawde to her­selfe.

Euery man musters himselfe in the band of Vertue, when there is any pay to be taken, but at the day of battaile (except it be some fel­low out of a hole) she hath not a follower. I mislike not a com­mon Affability, so it reserue the state of the party, for otherwise it is not humility, it is base­nesse. I owe vnto euery man a Salutation, and likewise my Cap, [Page] but not familiarity, except I be sure his worthinesse deserues it I betray my selfe. There is a certaine ma­iesty in Behauiour well-becom­ming, without pride, or Affectati­on, for they spoile all, the least dram of them makes all taste of In­discretion: no, this is the naturall Garde of Vertue, the fortification to resist basenesse, and to keepe out sawcy incrochers. We must not be carelesse of these outward mat­ters, but seeke to make them com­pleate, yet there is an inward thing which vnlesse it be added to this, makes all this to be nothing. A Schoole-master had in his place of Exercise a Glasse, wherein he cau­sed his Schollers to behold them­selues; If they were faire, & hand­some, he would tell them what pit­tie it was, such goodly bodyes should be possessed with defectiue mindes: If foule, and ill-fauoured, [Page] that they might make their bodyes faire with dressing their mindes handsomely; this was somewhat too good for a Pedant: my Appli­cation; If his behauiour be good, the adorning his minde doubles that Excellency: if ill, it will make it good, when your minde perfor­meth what your body promiseth not. It is without exception, when the Actions of the body are lighted by the gift [...] of the minde. I allow not too lauish a discourse; it is as if one meant to sell himselfe: he that will still talke, aduentureth himselfe too much; It is not valour but foole-hardinesse, he depraues himselfe of obseruation. It were good in this to imitate cunning shop-keepers, who [...]hew their ware in a halfe light. Vpon occasion I would speake, but niggardly, and rather starue then surfet my Audi­tory. Auoide Affectation, and [Page] loue Vertue, and for outward ge­stures if those naturally yours be not deformed, change them not, for they sit you best. The gifts of the minde are not so easily obtai­ned, these you must purchase with paine, and difficulty; and great reason, for it were pitty such pre­ciousnesse might be had for the ta­king.

Essay. 22. Of Alehouses.

I Write this in an Alehouse, into which I am driuen by night, which would not giue me leaue to finde out an honester harbour. I am without any Company but [Page] Inke and Paper, and them I vse in stead of talking to my selfe: my Hoste hath already giuen me his knowledge, but I am little bette­red, I am now trying whether my selfe be his better in discretion. The first note here is to see how honestly euery place speakes, and how ill euery man liues: not a Poste, nor a painted cloth in the house, but cryes out, Feare God, and yet the Parson of the Towne scarce keepes this Instruction. It is a straunge thing how men bely themselues: euery one speakes well, and meanes n [...]ughtily. They cry out if man with man breake his word, and yet no Body keepes promise with Vertue. But why should these Inferiours be blamed, since the noblest professions are become base? Their Instructi­ons rest in the Example of high­er fortunes, and they are blinde, [Page] and lead men into sensualitie. Me thinkes a drunken Cobler, and a meere hawking Gentleman ranke equally, both end their pursuites with pleasing their sences, this the eye, the other the Taste. What differs scraping misery from a false Cheatour? the directour of both is Couetousnesse, and the end Gaine. Lastly courting of a Mistresse, and buying of a Whore are somewhat like, the end of both is Luxury. Perhaps the one speakes more finely, but they both meane plain­ly. I haue beene thus seeking dif­ferences, and to distinguish of places, I am faine to flye to the signe of an Ale-house, and to the stately comming in of greater hou­ses. For Men, Titles and Clothes, not their liues, and Actions helpe me: so were they all naked, and banished from the Heralds books, they are without any euidence of [Page] preheminence, and their soules cannot defend them from Com­munity.

Essay. 23. Of Affectation.

AFfectation begets Extremities: Man is allowed onely the mid­dle way, he strayeth when he affects, his Errour is punished with Deformity, whatsoeuer he perfor­meth thus, becomming disgraceful and vncomely. There is not any in this kinde to be pardoned, euen the open affecting of vertue turnes into Hipocrisie, and makes him seeme rather as if he played Vertue then possessed it. The ordering of the body, if it be subiect to this [Page] A pish Imitation is wholy disorde­red: for his inward Directour is disobeyed, and forced contrary to it excellent natu [...]e to become base, and to borrow. The excellent Artisan that made all, gaue all his Children portions of qualities be­fitting them, as Heate to Fire, Moisture to Water, Trees to be plentifull Mothers, and Hearbes to haue an healing ability: should these fall to affecting, and to like others Qualities better then their owne, what a confusion would it beget? how much wrong to the workeman? Thus is it with vs: Euery Soule casts a colour vpon the Body suteable to it owne na­ture, not like our common colours which will endure a second Dye, but which at first is naturally in graine.

Euery one in truth is fitted by nature, whose fashion if he likes [Page] not, but wil choose rather to weare other mens cast clothes; it is pit­ty the Admiration hee affects should not be turned into laugh­ter. I haue seene some seely crea­tures that haue had the extremity of this disease in words, but what hath beene the end? alas they haue deliuerd Prisoners that haue turnd Traitours, and instantly betrayed them to Derision.

For my part I thinke generally it ought to be shunned, and if euer I were subiect to any Affectation, it was not at all to affect, in which I haue beene so precise, that I haue beene afraide to weare fashions, vntill they haue beene ayred by a generall vse.

Let no man thinke this mislike barres my allowance of inriching my selfe by the example of the Vertuous: no, the best may want, if hee bee onely stored by his [Page] owne meditation. Bookes, & men are both good Instructours, those we must read and obserue: but when that is done, to make our rea­ding, and obseruation no longer theirs▪ but our owne. I haue noted a People content inwardly to be so humble as to weare cast Appa­rell, but for the outward satisfacti­on they would alter, and trim them to defend thē from being knowne, and so fit them to their bodyes, thogh before they were too wide: Thus must they do that desire to be adorned with knowledge, and iudgement, and vertue. Whatso­euer I read, I vnderstand it not, if my Disgestion makes it not natu­rally mine: Thus it becommeth men, and makes the constitution of the minde strong▪ and faire, and worthy of allowance, if not of Ad­miration.

Essay. 24. Of Fantasticknesse.

FAntast [...]cknesse, is the Habilimēt of youth, Wisdomes minority, Experiences Introduction, the Childe of Inconstancy, the Mo­ther of Attire, of Behauiour, of Speach spoken against the Haire, Customes Enemy, It is Greene Thoughtes in Greene yeares, or at the farthest, greene Thoughts in a seare Substance, this is Fantastick­nesse: Wit (as long as wit) exerci­seth her selfe lightly, and is the Glasse wherein the Body lookes to set his Attire in fashion: being weake at this time shee playes with [Page] the Body as Children doe with Babies, puts on and off, dresses, and vndresses, layes it to sleepe, and takes it vp againe all at an in­stant, must be doing, though to no end doing: yet for all this I thinke it a colour of the Soule, for so is wit, and wit is Fantastick, but in­deed not so strong as to be layd in Viniger, and not alter, for it al­ters with howers, almost with minutes: Notwithstanding wis­dome may come, and with her comes Resolution, and Constant­nesse. For Experience comes by Knowledge, Knowledge from Chaunge, Chaunge from Fan­tasticknesse, trying many things with allowance of some, and yet cleauing but Inconstantlye to that allowaunce. It is least daungerous in the Attire, for that may be worne and put off, more in the behauiour, for Time [Page] reconciles it to Custome: most in the Conditions, for those spots will neuer out.

For Clothes, he that shunnes singularity, (for from singularity comes eyther Disdaine, or Enuy) let his Attire be conformable to Custome, and change with Com­pany.

I haue once cleared Alexander for his Persian Attire, I thinke Fantasticknesse lent wisdome Pol­licy at that time. The Graecians were too strict in this, not permit­ting a Graecian to differ in the least thing that might be, from a Grecian: wherevpon an Ambassadour of theirs, sent to the Persians, was cal­led to a straight account, because he kept Cowes for their Milke, and learned to lye soft. In many things (as in this) Custome is a thing Indifferent, and things indifferent receyuing their life [Page] from light Grounds; Euery coun­trey hath some peculiar to it selfe, by which when we are there, we ought to be ruled. Demetrius fan­tasticknesse was not so safe, when he made his Mantle, or Cloake, full of Starres with the Sunne, and the Moone, rich, and so full of state, that none of his successours durst aduenture on the like, being infinitely misliked by his Soul­diours. But Anthony neuer sped better, then when his Attire diffe­red not from the common Souldi­ours, which might be thought fan­tasticknesse, for not going accor­ding to his degree.

Time in it selfe is alwayes one, but Occasion runs Diuision vpon Time, her note is not alwayes one, which ought to be noted by them which are not negligent of their Time.

A King of the Parthians (of [Page] whom Tacitus makes mention) being deposed, comes after in the sight of his People, poore, and forlorne, and thereby mooued pitty. But Pompey with a fortun [...] no lesse vnfortunate, came for suc­cour to the Egiptians, and thereby lost his head.

Thus different are the disposi­tions of men; thus contrary fall out courses, though for a great space together they runne all one way. I haue seene fellowes kisse their hand so continually, that their hand in the end hath come to make no difference betweene a Lady, and her Dairy-maide: [...] your seruice, hath beene so co [...] ­uersant, as one asking, what's a Clock? first came a kisse on the hand, next, At your seruice, and lastly the houre: do you not thinke Nature had done this fellow a good turne, to haue made him [Page] without hands, or tongue? for so his head might haue liued [...] con­demned.

There are some that neuer see great assembly without as certaine a bringing home of a new grace, as Clownes of Ginger-bread from a Faire, making their lims Rogues without an abiding place: In the end Fantasticknesse lyes with cu­stome, and gets her with Childe of a Thumbe vnder the Girdle, or crossed Armes, or one hand be­fore, and another behinde. Barre some fellow from chewing a stick, and he is as vtterly vnfurnished as a House without stuffe; In what case would this fellow be in a Champion countrey, where wood must not be so wantonly bestow­ed? being without his feaking stick, he is without himselfe: A dange­rous Companion, he will gna [...]e him that stands next him, if he find [Page] him not Timber. But if this Fan­tasticknesse fall once to grow in­wardly, the cooling it with Time, the ministring counsell, the let­ting blood with Aduersity will not serue, but in spight of wisdom, and gray haires, it will daunce at three score yeares olde, and weare Greene, and play with a Feather, and then it is monstrous, and ridiculous without Hope, or Pit­ty.

I can remember no sight more offensiue to me then a variable old man, that can speake of no­thing but the fashions of his Time, the wench then in price, how many hacks he hath had in his Buckler in a Fleete-streete fray, or the friskes of the Italian Tum­blers.

I beginne now to suspect the time in the which he liued, that it [Page] was barren of all things worthy of note, hoping in Charity, that if there had beene better, he would haue made better choyse, and not haue made his memory woorse then a Brokers Shop, full onely of the cast skinnes of Times past. Whether he neede it, or no, I would not haue Age without a staffe in his hand: I like not a long Graye beard, and a sworde, me thinkes he should trust more to his wisdome then to his hands. In a word, after twice shauing, at the third, Fantasticknesse is to be abandoned, for it is Time to put the wit to Schole, and to leaue playing with these vndisgested Apes of the Fancie, to trust to Vertue, not to a French Dou­blet: If we do thus, it is no harme to haue beene once other­wise, for so we know what it is to be otherwayes, and may helpe [Page] those that are yet out of the way. Thus hath my Fancy thought on this Childe of Fancy, which the hath vttered, as some an Oration long since gotten by Heart: this she hath knowne her selfe, and who beleeues not, i [...] he be not past feeling, Time wil make him know by himselfe.

Essay. 25. Of Fame.

AS Conceits come into my Head I vtter them, for what is naturally mine, carries: with it rather a heauy Substance, then [Page] any rich Qualitie: I haue daily to do with more happy brains, whom I holde worthyer of a place in my memory.

I thought last of Fame, and my Thoughts haue riddē (as I thinke) ouer her whole circuite; what I haue seene in my trauaile, I will trust this peece of paper with, and so ridde my braine of that cari­age. Humours, and Affections our manu-mised slaues, haue a great hand ouer vs, they place and dis­place at their pleasures; Reason carries but the name of Authori­ty, this makes such strange Occu­pations in the world, such swea­tings, and striuings, in the Disco­uery of things neuer found be­fore. I holde Couetousnesse a vice bad enough in Conscience, for the best they can say for themselues, is but that they imitate the Ant, a seely creature, made by Nature [Page] without candle-light, imperfect, among those whom the Philoso­phers call Insecta Animalia: yet they are able to yeeld a reason for their scraping, they will say they may want. The seruants of Pleasure, and the worshippers of their sen­ces, though they liue onely to powre it in, and put it out, and in the end are euery way vnprofita­ble, except they were among the Canibals, who loue a well-fed mor­sell of Mans flesh: yet in the end they are able to say, This is an ex­cellent cup of wine, and these very fat and good Fowle. Nay that Ca­melion-like occupation that blowes the coale, and feedes vpon smoke mingled with a little hope, is in much better case then this humour I speake of, for though he cannot take away that leprosity, and Imperfectnesse that keepes base Mettalles from being the best: [Page] yet commonly his Distillations, and Abstractions, make him a perfect Emperick, and so it leaues him; not without an Occupation, though it drops somewhat short of his purpose.

But Fames Affectation is the most vnreasonable thing that euer was; when one hath wrought all his life, he knowes not where to looke for his hire: Euery man de­nyes to pay vpon compulsion, and saith he may bestowe it where he will: Nay, they that take most paines, are kept longest without it. Hath not a Coblers trade ods of this? he numbers the patches, and modesty restraineth him not from asking a penny for euery patch, and honesty bindes thrift to pay it.

This inuisible thing hath a num­ber-lesse company of Disciples: All that loue not money, for the [Page] most part wooe Fame, and some this way too: many Dung- [...]il Bi [...]des haue maintained in [...]te labours, assisted onely with the fame of making their sonnes Gen­tlemen.

As diuerse are their fashions, I haue seene so [...]e go about to catch Fame in a caper, and a well grac'd Galliard, I remember Suetonius mention of Nero, he tooke not so much paines for any thing as to be thought a good Singer, and who affoorded him not Glory, and Admiration in that kinde, hee would hardly affoord him life. I condemne not his wanton expen­ces, and inhumane cruelties more then this, that hauing the power of disposing the most famous, and ample Empire of the world, a stock able to maintaine Fame richely, yet to f [...]ye to so base an Eunuches qualitie for Fame.

[Page]Where Humors may be couered vnder the hauing no Beard, I mislike it not so much, Fame serues to enter the Eyas knowledge of man, who cannot catch Vertue at the first flight: but to conuerse with Experience, and then to co­zen our selues of the familiarity of Vertue with accompanying Fame, is abominable.

As my youth hath been spotted generally with entertaining my Affections too neerely, so by this the number hath beene increased, and I may safely say, it hath beene the last extraordinary illnesse that I haue had to do with. My occupa­tion hath beene vehemently boo­kish; I haue beene counselled by Plato and Seneca for Philosophy. Writing is the draught of reading, and by this I haue disburthened my head, and taken account of my pro [...]iting.

[Page]If it had gone no further, it had beene well, but I haue beene con­tent to dilate my selfe too much: It hath beene my Fortune euer yet, to like one yeare worse then another, and this fault among my worldly faults lyes heauiest vpon me, and is yet the last.

Since I haue kept my body from madnesse, my minde hath doted, I thinke it is with ouer-much ioy, that it hath gotten imploy­ment.

Among my readings Philoso­phy hath made me honest for two houres after, and I thinke I could haue held out if I had found any drawing that way, but euery man is so busie in the quest of Fame, that they neglect the desert: they aske [Page] which way she went, but not how she went.

History hath added to my na­turall desire of louing fame: I was there set a fire with conuersing with braue spirits: I like deeds well, but they were not within my reache, and so I sought to buy what my stock would reache to: though I cannot clime so well as Caesar, yet I should thinke my selfe happy, if I could but get vp to his Stile: But he was a Romane borne, and borne vnder a climate of more wit: we are so colde, and so dull, that we thinke of nothing beyond the compasse of our inheritance, iust like the Swissers we will lose no ground; leaue vs in durt, and finde vs in durt.

The Graecians and the Romanes were Monarches of the world, not by sitting still, and keeping them­selues warme, but Industry, and [Page] Aduenture were the wings that made them flye high. We will aduenture vpon nothing except it be on a surfit, and sixe pence at Tables.

I wonder why we estimate our selues so preciously, or keepe our limmes so carefully, except we haue indented with our church­yardes, not to coozen them of any part or parcell of the said Trunck. Since we are so stupified, it is well we liued not in their times, for we had surely gone to the mill: our bodyes should haue beene branded with the markes of a slaue, as well as our minds are with the deformitie of ignorant Lazi­nesse.

But these are no sutors at the court of Fame? Yes, as earnestly as Desarts: they can finde Titles as fast as Herraldes deuise Armes: [Page] If for nothing else, put him in for prouidence, and for leauing as much to his sonne as his father left him.

Honour is to be bought chea­per then with blood: It is possible to haue Titles not Honour thus, for Honour is vniuersall, and runs thorough all mouthes, and in­forceth Enuy, and Vice, to doe him Iustice, and to giue him his due.

But where is Caesar, Cato, Epa­minondas, Alexander, Eumenes, and the rest? Dead: and with them Desartes; their names are inwrap­ped in Vertue, ours of this sicke Time in Fame: they searched for Substance, we for Shadowes, they should be our Cognisances, for we are walking Ghostes.

I could write more in this kinde, Vehemency sharpens my Inuen­tion, [Page] but I have disclaimed it. I will from henceforth follow Ver­tue silently in my study, and aban­don this Impostour Fame, as a Cheater, and Pay-master of counterfeit Coyne.

Essay. 26. Of Affection.

THose actions that receiue not their comman­dements from a deliberated dis­course, the issue of reason, re­ceiue it from a sympathising with things, the issue of affection, whose effects though not vnnaturall, yet very vnreasonable, for so much is gi­uen to beasts to maintaine like with, but to man is giuen reason to pur­chase vertue with, which by the other can no way be compassed, no more then the taste, taste vertue, the smell, smell vertue; for affection [Page] brings all things to triall by the sen­ces, reason carrieth them to the in­quisition of the soule, who regardes not their colours, nor those sensuall qualities, but makes them confesse how much they haue of Tempe­rance, how much of Fortitude, and of those inwarde qualities of the minde. Doubtlesse then, this power of affection carrieth no farther grace then the preseruation of life, which regarded no farther then right is a care of the last place, for speaking of this life, mee thinks there is no other thing presented to our view, then some handsome Table or Picture that lookes pertly for a time, but will not last, and should receiue of vs in exchange a contentment of the present state, and a determination to vse it to the best purpose whiles we haue it, and when we are to part, a pacient farewell without distur­bance or feare.

We are taken out of the vniuersall matter of Nature, and made man, highly already preferred, conside­ring our fi [...]st state; but this viewed with immortality, is baser in compa­rison, then the first, to the second. This life is but a Prentishood, the freedom immortality, & mee thinks it fittes well in respect of the ones shortnesse, and the others eternitie, life being but like a Prentises holy­day, but more neere when we thinke of our knowledges which are here impotent and defectiue, but are there complete and full, all things appea­ring there vnmasked, and the bor­rowed coulours and vaine appari­tions of Affection beeing with­drawne, those vnlimmtied and rich lights of the minde, beholde eue­rie thing in the right proportion, all the deformities and misdemeanors [Page] of the world are the children of af­fection, which bindes vp our sight in darkenesse, and leads vs blindfol­ded: from hence Opinion, which is the destinated censure of Affection, as Iudgement is the Soules, from hence proceedes the irresolution of our thoughts and our wauerings, and changings from one thing to another; for Affection, likes his pre­sent satisfaction, and iudgeth that best, which if in Opinion bettered, he changeth his sentence, and so not able to penetrate into the depth of things, is euery day ready for a new impression. All that I haue heard, all that I haue read, all that by any meanes hath come to my know­ledge performed well, hath beene where Reason hath made Affection his seruant: contrariwise, destructi­ons, dishonours, dangers, haue beene inforced by the tyrannie of Pride, Disdaine, Hate, Selfe-loue, or some [Page] other of those Affections vnrestrai­ned: so can I fetch Calamitie from none other originall but this; not happinesse but from the depriuation of this frailtie. Euen that honest harmlesse Affection, which posses­seth Parents towards their children, me thinkes whiles they are yet but lumpes of flesh, and things without all merit, should not be so ardent and vehement, pitty and commise­ration fits them better then Loue, of which they are no way worthy; for howsoeuer we abuse loue with cast­ing it away vpon trifles, yet it is the pretiousnesse of Loue, appointed onely to attend deserts, and to ioyne no peeces together that are not of this kinde; but it is well that Nature hath cast the extremitie of this dis­ease vpon mothers, it becomes them not so ill to be fond as men, besides these little ones being their charges, Affection makes them more care­full, [Page] and so it is for those first yeares neuer the worse for the childe, what­soeuer it is for the mother. Iustice being for example, and no more de­stroying a common-wealth then the husbandman the trees with execu­ting the water boughes, which he dooth as well in respect of their vn­profitablenesse, as also to shew ma­lefactors in a glasse their owne state while they beholde the guiltie vn­der-going the seueritie of the lawe, but yet the creatures bound to profit others with their owne destruction, should bee picked out monsters whose natures might be seene incor­rigible, and those of whom mercy may coniecture amendment, to be spared: thus in the ambiguitie of things which doubt will not haue resolued, mercy may haue a hand. Thus commiseration and a charita­ble eye to the distrested, all which though they leaue more to affection [Page] then to the strictnesse of iustice, yet must we so farre tolerate them, for so God lookes vpon vs, and so should we vpon our bretheren, being all borne lame, which fault of ours if it were punished with death, none should liue; yet I go not with Mon­tangnia, who in his Essay of Crueltie, bribes wit to take part with commi­seration so extreamly and so woma­nish as not to indure the death of Birdes and Beasts; alas this gentle­nesse of nature is a plaine weaknesse, wee may safely see the deaths of these, yea of men without motion, it belongs to vs to looke into the cause of their deaths, not into the manner onely, but fetching it from the desert wee shall see plainely, it is not the Iudge nor the execution­ner that committes this abhor­red spectacle, but them-selues, them-selues doe execution vppon them-selues; Might there bee [Page] that vnspeakable blessing giuen to the imprisoned soule, that she might here view things in sincere trueth, how would vice and sinne flie light, when vnmasked light might disco­uer their deformities, how pro­foundly should we be able to cen­sure things, how would we scorne lawes and compulsion, when the most ragged-vnderstanding should flye farre aboue them.

Lastly, all the enemies of wealth and pouerty should be banished, for we should not know want, and so should want them, and the laborious life of Studye should end, whose trauels ayme at no other end, but an ability to knowe euery thing in his propper kinde; this is not, because Affection is, who dayly ouercomes reason, not by strength but flattery, and sometimes makes the weapons of Reason, treacherously turne head vpon Reason, with corrupting his [Page] taste, and making him fortifie plea­sure with arguments. I would be glad to looke vpon my brother with the same eye that I behould a stran­ger, and may the strangers worthe excell his, I would preferre him. He is deceiued, that thinkes vertue re­spects bloud and aliaunces: she is not so bodely, hauing commerce with vs whiles we haue bodyes, not because we hauing bodyes, should loue our bodyes: but because we should with the ordering and subiecting them, win her. It is Affection that hath skil of colours, and hath set vp the esti­mation of White and Red. I verely beleeue Vertue was neuer Paynter nor Armorist, all those choyses and allowances that come from tall, and fatte or slender and well bodied, are all Affections choise, the minde sees the minde, and giues the body leaue to looke how it will, for she loues the abilities and graces of the mind, [Page] whose neuer fading beauties, makes their imbracements blessed. Here is the choise of all things made sure; thus friends are to bee entertained, whose perfection may be better dis­coursed of, then it is possible to finde it actually, the reason because Affec­tion beares so great sway, our causes of combination being commonly more beholding to Affection then Reason, which makes vs so often complaine of the vnstablenesse of friends & friendships incōstancie. No other are those leauges which looke into the fortune rather then vertue of friends, that cunningly make Loue the broker to supply their wants; how can these hould, since the hould of their hould blinde Dame Fortune is brittle and flitting. But amongst all I finde no body hath so iust cause to complaine of this as Iustice, which being the very soule and life of go­uernment is oft time compelled to [Page] help the lightest scoale with her fin­ger, whiles Partialities burden makes the other heauie. I can pittie the di­stresse of no vertue so much as this, since no vertue carryes with her a greater maiestie, and in that maiestie knowledge, the life of life, the ioy of man, & his surest euidence of partici­pating with the deuine nature. Sure­ly were it not for the orderly working of this vertue, we should make the world in a worse state thē the Chaos, where was a confusion, but it was in­nocent though deformed: but now it would be turned into a guilty de­formity, the picture of which though not fully, are those sick states that are continually letting blood; where the sweet wisdom of laws, are turned in­to those doubtful arbitrators blowes, and where Iustice executes not with her sworde, but fights for her right, but I haue destinated a whole Essay to Iustice, wherefore I wil speake no more of her now.

[Page]Of all our delicacies or imperfecti­tiues of any kinde, there is no Au­thor but Affection, whose intice­ments brings on equally both ex­cesse and obstinacie, witnesse the many idle lines of Louers, who haue made many foule Papers, for the sakes of their faire Mistresse, whose luxurious conceits they haue made loue answer for, & called them loue.

I wishe them no Phisicke, but my selfe the sight, for I like no play like to a passionate Louer, yet haue I heard it hath kild some; but I will neither beleeue it, nor yet be thus in Loue. In a worde, all these rable of disturbers, that prouoakes passion & procures the full possession of men, of what kinde soeuer, are the chil­dren of Affection, or if not her chil­dren, her selfe, for Proteus like, occa­sion altereth her shape, and she som­time [Page] lookes like Anger, somtimes like Loue, other times like some o­ther of those blinde choosers, whose effects though so different as called by different names; yet all are Af­fections, with whom I will haue as little to do as I can, and when I do vse her, it shall be no more, then so much as shall make my body con­tent to go of my soules errant.

Essay. 27. Of Keeping State.

I Mislike nothing more then the purchases that some intend, with prostrating and deiecting them­selues, to get the highest price on earth with this base commoditie, is baser then Vespasians gaine of Vrine; [Page] Vertue goeth more right vp, more gallantly, none of her limmes are so crooked and halting, she com­maundes Industrie of her seruants, not this lazie falling at mens feete, and voluntarye professing serui­tude, when greatnesse declines to this, eyther it meanes not well, or is not able to meane well, for Contempt the most cruell enemie to Greatnesse, is by this meanes begotten, (Vertues and Vices pro­creating not like visible creatures, but contraries beget contraries, and those furthest off, bring in those furthest off on the other side, though other defects may in­curre dangers of no lesse moment,) as Cruelty, Extortion, Rebellion, yet contempt comes frō no other place, thē a careles ignorance of our states, or from Pride, the not valuing and ouer valuing, giuing life to this curse, worse then death. Gouerne­ment [Page] the blessing of the world, by the experience and inconuenience of times past, brought into an exact forme from the comparison of strength and wisdome, hath made a distinction of states, giuing one pre­heminence ouer an other, thus come Kings, Lordes, Gentlemen, Yeomen; which difference were it onely in name, without the duties belonging to each of them, words should goe without meaning, and meaning seperated from wordes, speache should loose her name, man his societie, and all should bellowe and roare like beasts.

Wee haue then from our Aun­cestors differences, which traditi­on is not so tyrannicall as not to satisfie vs with any other reason but custome, for shee tells vs, that Obedience makes waye for Wise­dome, which otherwayes whatsoe­uer it could do, should do nothing, [Page] for the clamor and noyse of com­munitie, euery man would speake, euery mans speech likes him selfe best, Selfe-conceite makes Opinion obstinate; many determinations, no resolutions; clamours, not counsels; confusion, not gouernment; for go­uernements supporters are Com­maund and Obedience, the founda­tion and chiefe causes vpholding states, our eye giues euery thing a coulour; the things most precious are counted more precious, if they be fayre as well as good: from hence we haue inforced the Marchandize of the minde to be good, for some­what els besides meere goodnesse; all vertues haue agreed to this, Tem­perance hath Health for her coulor; Fortitude, Sa [...]tie; Pacience, Tran­quilitie; thus Wisdome now vnder­stood by Nobilitie; Maiestie and State, with ordinance of the deuine wisdome, whether it be the know­ledge [Page] of our weakenesse, which cannot beholde pure truth by it selfe, or our other weakenesse, which hath neede of inticements for our vnderstanding, to perswade vs to vertue, or els the tem­porall rewards destinated to these de­uine graces, whether for all, or part, certaine it is, it is so, these excellent and supreame things, hauing inferiour graces to be their attendants. It is not then in the power of the most wittie enuious repining nature, to spurne at the differences amongst men, it is a lawfull constitution vpholding lawes, the life of life, it makes vp the sweetest sounding harmony whose speaking in seuerall keyes by discorde, giues euery one a part, euery one is fitted and alto­gether knits diuersitie in concord. Par­ticularly to speake of the vpholding & destroying the state of authoritie, those that are content to let fall their coun­tenances and to open themselues to the intertaining all with one respect [Page] are natures forced beyond their na­tures, beeing meeter to serue then go­uerne, or such, whose actions going a­wry, fearefully to eschew punishment, seeke shelter in the abuse of curtesie, of the first, they vnderstand not them­selues, or rather vnderstand them­selues, but not their places, the other, neyther the natures of them nor their places, or els worse, are led by affecti­on, of whom there is no more to be sayd, but beeing not fit it is meete to send them to mending, if not capable of that, to be made into some other forme. This other hath beene acces­sary to the ouerthrowing many states, nay hardly there is any destroyed, but this hath beene an assistant to it, being a cherishing poyson, that maketh infe­rior conditions resty, and rebellious; the Romane state offere [...]h many ex­amples of their kinde where their chiefetaines vnable to purchase respect by the true way, attempted the loue of [Page] the souldiers by giuing them libertie, saluting them by familiaritie; thus the most exact millitary discipline that e­uer was, was lost and ruined and they that had wont to smell of sweate, the testimony of labour, now smelt of oyle the witnesse of an vnmanlike effemi­nate nicenesse. It ended not heare for the armies wont to looke vppon their generalls with admiration & reuerence brought to a deeper insight through their prostitute fashion, began to com­pare his power and theirs, to examine the causes of euidence, which beeing wisdome an euidence past their know­ledge, in their knowledge nothing be­ing of force, but force finding him in­ferior to their multitude, it brought contempt, so came (sayth Tacitus) the secrets of the Senate to be knowne to the soldiers, so came they to know their own strēgth, though not to know how to vse it, an vnhappy knowledge, so came the armies to make Emperors, [Page] so came the world to be gouerned by mony, for by that corruption the Legi­ons erected Emperours, so came the Masters of the worlde to be held in the slauish tenure of paying a fine for their admittance, and to hould their states of men, that were wont to ac­knowledge no body but the Gods: such a basenes and declination is this in vice, and indirect aspiring, that to attaine but the names of Lordes, they are content in truth to be slaues, to be the miserablest slaues, being onely commanders vnsatiable and vnlimi­ted, for there is such a misterie in Na­ture, as natures passing beyonde their allotted limits, worke nothing but confusion, and not euen their owne intendements can they bring to per­fection. Neuer was there any countrie possessed of the Empire, that managed it more gallantly then the Romaines whose care of keeping their state in maiestie did no lesse preserue them [Page] then their greatest conquests, for those do but enlarge these setled and con­firme dominion, for little auaileth power without order, and this is the mother of order. I doe not thinke but that there might haue beene men found, in the time of Oracles, no lesse sound and more certaine in counsell then the Oracles, who preserued themselues with a double constructi­on, but their venerable account brought men to attend their answeres so preiudicially, as they were taken not searched into; and men with men, doubtlesse somtimes seruants, happen of sound counsell, but their basenesse takes away beliefe, their fortunes e­steeme, so fruitlesse are the indeuours of great men, when they put on rhe carriages of seruile conditions, for with the same neglect are they vsed, that holde not their parsons with the grauitie of their states in venerati­on. Cassandraes propheticall counsell, [Page] surely would not haue gone so regard­lesse, had she not beene a woman, the parson as wel as the aduise is reckned of by the aduised, they must goe toge­ther, though we meruaile at strange thinges, yet wisdome will not follow them, and euen they esteeme that all women haue, is deriued from their mo­desties, and shame fast obscuring them selues for put them in their contrarie habit accōpanied with mans accusto­med bouldnesse, and there followeth a loathing and detestation. Thus hath custome destinated in each sex, and e­uery calling, certayne rules and or­ders of life, which broken, are aboli­shed, as greatnesse attired in a seruile forme, or a serulle in greatnesse, is an innouation no lesse dangerous particu­larity, then innouations more generall to the body of a state, that once ouer­come the louing, the woorse is no lesse dangerous then the once forsaking the best, for custome is a mettal that stands [Page] which way so euer it is bent & is not to be rebent without the danger of break­ing, witnesse Galba; whose wordes to the soldiers.

A speach good and well befitting the mouth of an Emperour, yet recei­ued a contrary censure, because not fit­ting the time: thus dangerous is refor­matiō, thus pernitious to follow a time wherein the deuotion of subiects to their prince by the negligence of their progenitors is debased and made con­temptible. Now to eschew this euill, and to possesse the true esteeme inci­dent to honour, the ground-woorke & foundation must be from their liues, for two causes. The first, it is impossible to possesse this procurer of awe and veneration beeing inwardly visions, for vice is base and makes the behaui­our base & fearful, which is contrary to the chiefe lim of this purpose, which is [Page] magnannimity and cleare conscience, the mother of resolution, the other that euery body will shunne his direction, that is not all to direct himselfe, his commaundements shall not get pas­sage through the harts of men, but bee spurned at, and dispised. There is no­thing that hath neede of more respect, then the first acquiring respect, it is with much more ease preserued then obtaynd, for it preserues it selfe, but with great difficulty is attained, for comming from no other originall but vertue and authority, (both which are strangers to the beginning of mens times) they must be had first; and then this, for mens loue and reuerence are gaind not for the beauty of the per­sons but for the abilities likely to pro­fit, for whatsoeuer we pretend they are rare that ground their loues vpon the generall weldoing, wee doe but talke of louing our countreyes best, for wee loue our selues first, it is to be wished [Page] it were otherwise, but it is to be fea­red it is so; the reason is, we vndertake much more willingly to conquer kingdomes then our selues, and there­fore as nature made vs, she may haue vs againe, for wee are without any o­ther alteration then is incident to ob­stinate ignorant, for the other instru­ments vphoulding a due reuerence & respect, I remember some, but fearing they would be catcht at, without the condition of retayning vertue first, I hold it best not to aduenture them, we are lazy and proud, for he that thirsts for honour with out desert, is lazy and proud, and desert I cannot call those crossings and gaine copings of vertue, it is a counterfaite fashion to face our foreparts with the rich stuffe of worth, and inwardly to be a peeced stuffe of diuers colours of diuers raggs; to conclude he is perfect in his best liue­hood that is perfect in himselfe; he vn­derstands an euidence more profitable [Page] then the euidence of his land, to which a confirmed bahauiour is the profit of his knowledge, the preseruation of which, is the preseruation of his hone­stie, the vse of which is as effectuall as his wisedome, for seperated he may be heard, but not beleeued; it is not Pride, but Vertue then, to exact and maintaine the reuerence fit for his cal­ling, which who dooth not, is eyther vicious, or vnprofitable, or both.

Essay. 28. Of Complements.

WE misvse all our actions, wee spur-gall and tyre them, looke vpon them when they are begotten, & we abhor them, for they are full of de­formities, and beholde vs with wrye mouthes, as if they mocked their fa­thers, our Taylors gaue vs but a little belly to our doublets, & we neuer left [Page] vntill we made our selues crops bigger then women with childe, Hand-ker­cheffes and Towels, and halfe Table­cloathes thrust in, they not so riche in linnen, but as aboundant in folly, hay and Strawe, as if there had beene no grace but in a gorbelly and the brauest proportion, the largest Girdell▪ thus madly ranne our pleasures, our profits, our desires, our indeuours, neuer think­ing any thing sufficiently followed, vntill it turne againe and lookes either full of horror or derision; we of these latter times, full of a nice curiositie, mislike all the performances of our fore-fathers, we say they were honest plaine men, but they wanted the ca­pring wits of this ripe age; we are not yet so impudent as to say they were fooles, but we affirme they were fooles, for al they did is vndone, & their whole courses altered. They had wont to giue their hands & their harts together, but we thinke it a finer grace to looke a [Page] squint, our hand looking one way and our hart another, they gaue entertain­ment to your friends, to strangers, wee, accomplement, and ciuilizd, or ciuited (for our actions smells like a profound Courtier) kisse the hand as if we ment to take say of it, imbrace curiously, and spend euen at his entrance a whole vo­lume of words, which when it meetes with a fellow vnprouided of that win­dy commodity, he is driuen to take all without exchange, and so is thought eyther clownish or shallow, or else he is bound to the penance of a million of I thanke you with all my hart Sir, I am glad to see you well, tell me how you do Sir, but if they be both cunning, what a deale of Synamon and Ginger is sacrificed to dissimulation, O how blessed doe I take mine eyes for pre­senting me with this sight, O Signiour, the starre that gouerns my life in con­tentment, giue me leaue to interre my selfe in your armes, not so Sir, it is to [Page] vnworthy an inclosure to containe such preciousnes, but pleaseth it you to honor me so much as to make me the bridge of your passing home, happy shall I be to haue had the impression of your footesteps, this and a cup of drinke makes the time as fit for a de­parture as can be, by this time they are both drunke dry & they haue no more to say but by way of repetition, which the eare lotheth as much, as the pallat meate already chewed, onely certaine shot are left to bring them­selues of, as vnhappy occasions. Why do you spurre me to depart out of this paradise? no Sir pardon me, It is I that haue cause to complaine of iniurious time, who wanting you, do wish the want of my selfe, for my selfe without my second selfe is alike loathsome; no more sweete friend, let vs not thinke to much of the misfortune of seperati­on, but let me leaue you heere. O Sir pardon me, mine eyes would take [Page] it vnkindly at my legges hands, my heart at both their handes, if they should not do their vttermost towards your fruition; no farther then this gate, I protest, a little further I beseech you, be not so iniurious to the lengthning of my ioyes, not a foote, much doe I feare you haue already hazarded your health with this long iourney. Giue me leaue therefore, for the quiet of mine owne minde, to salute you by a messenger in the morning, to know how you digested your great trauell; my messenger shal intercept your kind intention, and so more then my selfe farewell: farewell to you both flat­terie and follie, or both. I am wearie of playing this part any longer, and almost tyred with this short thinking of these vaine touches of the tongue, like to haue made loue to a seruant that interrupted me; Fie of this abuse of speeche, fie of this purblinde choise; for my part, I had rather binde my [Page] tongue apprentise to an Oyster-wife, then to this language, for I hate nothing more then the accompli­shing of things purposelesse, and so is this, if it be not worse: for he is possest with one of these two deuils that speakes thus within him, eyther Dissimulation, or the propper title of a well-spoaken man, which two are the badges eyther of a foole or a vil­laine.

I like well that euery thing should doe according to their kinde: I haue heard of diuision in singing, and of the diuisions that neate Schollers vse to tye vp the breeches of an Argu­ment or Oration with, but when we are to sende truth or seriousnesse of an arrant, to sende such a mincing imbroydered Embassadour, is not fitte: wherefore are these imploide, but for their swiftnesse? because they can get sooner to our friend, then our actions, of whom they are the [Page] fore-runners to relate their comming, which when they shall do, one after an other, a multitude of messengers be­fore the true expected ghest shall come, who can blame the scorning, and not trusting such lying posts, mee thinkes the toung reading in the hart what he pronounceth, should reade truely, and not abuse both with a cor­rupt translation; but this is the most poysonous qualitie in accomplements: the pretiest are those that meane nei­ther well nor ill, but as I said, to be a well spoken man, that like an vnthrifts mony that burnes in his purse, so these, their wordes in their mindes, that can no more keepe their wordes, then the flix his excrements, but whē it comes, he cannot carrye it to the appointed place, but lets it go vpon the next hee meetes; if he meetes none, he layes it in his breeches. Who would be trou­bled with such a disease as this, basting euery one without al choise or respect, [Page] not I, for I preferre the freedome of my minde, before any thing of the world, and amongst the things of the world, then this, there is none more slauish and base, comes it eyther from the best or the worse of these two twinnes Flatterie or Follie.

Essay. 29. Of Estimation and Reputation.

THe most deere and most precious commodities of man, are these, they are himselfe, his life, those which all noble and honest spirites haue the care of, they liue, carefully cherishing it, and die, imbracing it. Euen wife, and children compared with this, are coun­ted respects of a second sorte, and we prouide for this, and then for them, which excellent colour that makes men decernable from one another, [Page] though opinion or affection, partially distributeth, and somtime counterfets, it is no matter, lifes inabled with thoughts of magnanimitie must not desist for this, this worth is not blemi­shed by this halting defectiue imitati­on, but rather increaseth; for imitation how short soeuer it comes of the ori­giuall, yet beares the meaning of al­lowance. It is a sweete thing full of the pleasure incident to the things of our owne acquiring, for it is no inhe­ritance, nor is it bound to follow the followers of Fortune, but purely is theirs, whose thoughts haue guided their actions to do things of note and worth; it belongs not to sloath nor idlenes, be he neuer so noble, if a Slug­gard, she will not serue him, she bindes her selfe to no body that doth not well who embraceth vertue, she comes after and kisseth him, basenesse and sensuali­tie, she giues in pray to her opposite the most abhorred thing of nature, [Page] obliuion, and is her selfe associated with none that determine not brauely as well as honestly, being indeed the last and most refined disgestion of a fierie and high flying nature. This is Estimation that carries leuell through­out the world, where eyes by distance are vnprofitable, greatnesse dismem­bred frō feare, which being inhabitants of differēt regions vnregarded, thither, and beyond goeth Estimation, being a coine currant, and receiued in all coun­tries, with all dispositions, euen enmi­tie and malice it selfe cannot resist ac­knowledging her; besides the ample territory which it yeelds in command­ing respect euery where, being like the Sunne dispersing his Rayes ouer the world, making the dwarffish feeble cō ­stitution of man, whatsoeuer the eyes saith, figured by the mind, a most godly and most strong portraiture of Excel­lencie; more then all this, it giues the letters of credence that makes vs [Page] beleeued in the commerce of men, without this we labour altogether vn­profitably, suspect killing all our in­tents, before they come to the age of actions, surely they are natures of a da­stardly kinde, that do not vehemently thirst after this most splendent bright­nesse, they are rustie bodyes, that doe not continually handle them-selues vntill they shine thus, for leauing that worst part that declines to ostentation, and bragarisme, (though praise and commendations, and so estimation may be loued, & yet liue long enough without these extremities, for Vertue is not so tyrannicall as to propound la­bours without recompence: it may be loued for a thousand other respects; euen as loue it selfe can somtimes go without lust, for the pursuite of actions for the sake of vaine-glory, is no nee­rer a kin to the true grounded estima­tion, then lust is to loue. Estimation being the blossome of the tree of Ver­tue, [Page] which promiseth the husbandman paiment of a more tasting commodi­tie, being the fore-runner of Vertues best paiment, we must not contemne, but cherish, the blossomes perishing, the fruite perisheth; praises are not then to be contemned, for they are the blossomes of vertue flourishing, they must be loued and desired, for from them one day comes the fruite of the Tree of Life.

But now to the vndiscreet greedi­nesse of many, who desire to be riche in this, as robbers by stealing, who leaue industrie and thrift (the true meanes) on the right hand, and impati­ently dispoile others, to satisfie their appetite: the way by vertue is called large, the goodnesse of the mindes in­clination tedious, they apply outward medicines, things of resemblance, mat­ter of forme, but for truth and not the resemblance but the thing it selfe, they neuer trauaile about it. These base mer­cenarie [Page] imitations take their originall from three plots: from the pretence of discent, from the infections that para­sites giue the world in their behalfes, from a behauiour big and swolne full of promises, eager of performances, & traffiquing with occasion of a slight & safe price, I can warrant no man from the infection incident to high fortunes, for I taste in euery man liuely prouo­cations, to teach their thoughts flatte­rie, and to lay matter of worth to their owne charge, my readings iumpe. A­lexander, when he was so full and so mighty, as to be called Conquerour of the world, was then so needy as faine to borrow Iupiter Hammon for his fa­ther, to be the bawde of his owne con­ceptiō; for it was he only that brought Iupiter & Olympia together, such is the blinde vndiscreet capacitie of man, as when he may draw estimation frō him selfe, then not for modesties sake, but a mad ambition, he giues it to others, [Page] making his case weake, with bringing in weaker assistance, rather choosing to be a glimmering reflexion, then a true and reall light. But the pretence here was the purchase of a more ample re­gard amongst men, whose states com­monly being full of darke ignorance, is muth more rauished with thoughts of superstition, then things apparent, for they can gesse so neere thēselues as to determine things of their owne pitch, base & triuiall, which brings them to a retchlesse respect of what they are con­uersant with, & to lend admiratiō only to things rare, finding what they know vnworthy, they are much more deligh­ted with what they know not. I finde not for all this any increase of estimati­on fetched from these diuine titles, for men of iudgemēt whose abilities reach farther thē the presēt fortune of princes behold a weaknes in these vnresonable affectatiōs, they see a bowing & waue­ring in those minds, vnable to manage succes, ouer the more inferior subiect, it [Page] layes mo [...]e fast hould but vnprofitably for meanes of a more direct ascent shall performe this office, doubt shall hould them as fast by the heele as the name of Iupiters mistaking worke­manship, for doubt breeds a feare of so good a temper, as beeing neyther in­clining to desperation, nor hate, it be­gets obedience, with other nations it preuailes not at all, for beeing out of the reach of awe and feare, their sights are more cleare, and their inquisition more certayne. Amongst all those states that drew estimation from this superstitious beleefe of their participa­ting with the highest powers, Numa Pompilius plaied it best with his nimph, he was a prince that bred and nouri­shed deuotion in his countrimen, who before bred vp in warres (a life apt to corrupt) knew better how to be soldi­ers then good subiects, he changed their liues, to strengthen with innona­tion the opinion of the counsell of a [Page] more then humane vnderstanding was necessarie; more modestly though I cannot say more discreetely did the Romanes of the ages afore vse this Deifying power, they gaue it their Emperors dead, but with such partialli­tie as they spared none that left a suc­cessor of his owne appoyntment, so much differ the nature of these from their progenitors, so much doth it al­ter nature to be brought vp and nouri­shed in seruilitie, but could they, or durst they haue giuen it onely to well deseruing princes, their princes vnli­mited by others respects, would haue beene the better for this, since it is as naturall in men to purchase hope as as­surance. The Egiptians haue a law that at the funerall of any man, all that could accuse or excuse the dead, came in, where if his defects surpassed his merites, he was denied the rights of their interring, it did much good, though they were not in hope of win­ning [Page] any more, then a mortall reputa­tion, the feare of losing that was much feared & so shunned, an excellent law, no lawes beeing so excellent as those that seeme cruell and are not, & being slight, produce the weightiest and best effects. The ages since these, growne more Philosophically wise, to whom it is apparent the immediate act of ge­neration is a mortall thing, and no way answerable to the diuine nature, the multiplicitie of the many Gods being abolished, not so easie a matter to haue the conuersation of a God, these bee­ing known fables not daring to ground their designes vpon impossibilities, to which iudgement will neuer consent, from things of likehood they giue their pretenced grace, instead of the counsell of the Gods, the maner of adoring God, insteade of their discent from them, from families of long stan­dings, these are the maskes and disgui­ses of al those impatiēt eager dispositō, [Page] that are not content with there owne states, to which at the first approach by the quicke and light apprehensions of the multitude, perhaps estimation may be giuen, but it weares off, and is too lightly wouen to indure. It hath not beene omitted by many thirsters after estimation, to make mercenarie brea­thes fill the eares of men with their commendations, in vndirect course, be they euen as worthy as they will, for a true thing out of the gutter of a false throate can hardly escape corrupting: surely so great an enemie is vertue to hypocrisie as she grows and increaseth most where she is most obscured, to giue whose effects leaue to speake, not to speake of her effects, is the best pro­ceeding for attending her leasure, shee wil discouer her selfe in a more faire & full growth, then now comming into the world like abortiue issue halfe stop­ped & deformed. The estimation fetcht from a big & bōbast behauior decernes [Page] not the confuting, for the best of be­hauiour, more then that the shaddow of the sunne is better then a candle, in­dures comparison with nothing, for it is but the shadow of the minde, but the companion of this a hunting out imployment, flight, and safe, though it be as ridiculous, yet looks more graue­ly; how well doth it prayse some men to be sent of a message by a greater man, though of no more woorth then would fit the performance of a foote boy, these mistake estimation, and in­tertayne basenesse in her steade, like a suter that presents the obtayning the mistresse, & marrieth her kitchin maid. This theft and hope of crossing Esti­mation by the nearest way, seldome es­capes discouering, if it doth, and that they do by an insinuating diligence get some degrees higher, their owne course is their owne destruction, for those deiected dispositions can do no­thing wel but flatter, and feeding them [Page] with hope, they will liue, and liuing they are of good vse, there natures runne mad with exaltation, they are nothing so well made to beare good fortune as bad, in which state it see­meth that nature hath conspired with fortune, they shall liue and dye in.

Reputation the garland of meaner price for meaner champions, is not yet so low as not woorth the stouping for, though with titles and worship and wordes we distinguish states, yet to all men of all fortunes, the groundes of vertue are one, with whom estimation and reputation is al one, but we whose narrow roomes are not able to traffick with vertue by the whole-sale but by retayle must take in things by hand­fulls; there is nothing easier then to confound our natures, to eschew wea­rinesse we count our miles, we num­ber things and are afrayed of infinitie, thus speake our artes beeing erected with grounde-workes, diuisions, [Page] rules &c. Thus Arithmetike by 1. and 2. and 3. as the stayres moun­teth vp to millions, we see not, heare not, touch not, smell not, together, but singly commeth our knowledge; thus is vertue content to suffer her selfe to be anatomized by wordes, and by wordes,, to pull one part from another, thus comes fortitude, temperancie, ius­tice, to be destinated to seuerall func­tions, and to be knowne by seuerall names, thus comes estimation and re­putation to a destinction, thus by wordes is mans vnderstanding set a worke, and kept from running madde. Though our English curtesie calles the Tennant goodman, and the Land-lord maister, yet I hope goodnesse belong­eth no lesse fully to the Lord then Tennant, but that their actions pre­tend a generall good, and these vnim­ployed obscure fortunes, but a particu­ler, we must giue a preheminence, which our mindes can not do without [Page] our senses, our eares must haue their indifferent soundes, the best is there­fore knowne by the name of estimati­on to determine honestly, to practise those determinations, to resist feare, and vanquish couetousnesse, is the di­rect way to reputation, which who ho­nestly indeauours to follow, shall haue his indeauours rewarded with this ti­tle. These are not impositions of such import as those belonging to estima­tion, but yet respecting the diuersitie of natures as difficult, for euery one is fit­ted with desires & appetites of corrup­tion equally dangerous, the husband­man hath his defects, the mechanicke his, the merchant his, all theirs whose resistāce is no lesse troublesome though lesse worth then princes pretences to crowns, to sow sedition amongst their neighbours, to remoue by the shortest cut men mislikt, so cōming so ful of va­rietie, so vniuersall, is the power, instru­ments & pollicie of vice. To determine [Page] honestly, which is the allowing, and retaining thoughts of such prouocati­on, the resisting thoughts contrary, is the first and most effectuall meanes, surely there is nothing so ordinarie as those thoughts: yet serued thus, they will be lesse violent▪ and lesse in num­ber, it makes the assaulters weake, the assaulted stronge, their resistance is reasons office, who with the trueth of discourse skirmisheth, and at last ouer­throwes these rebels and out-lawes, the mustering the good, the trying them, the teaching them their duties, makes them inuincible. Quaecunque salutaria sunt, saepe agitari deben [...]; saepe versari: vt non tantum nota sint nobis, sed etiam [...]arata. The often vsing these thoughts, ends with the practise to a thing often read, the memory will lead as well as the eyes, we cannot thinke well often, but we shall do well sometimes, and then vertue is gotten by hart, which before was but counsel. [Page] Tolle errores, superuacua praecepta sunt, Good thoughts a [...]e precepts, good ac­tions abolish errours▪ which thoughts though we must light our actions at, yet must we not liue onely to increase that fire, and not at all to vse it, but practise first with our thoughts and then in good time begin a best with our actions. Feare the ill humor vpon which oppression workes, must be a­bandoned by him that giues the badge of honest reputation, for without a hacksters humor (for I call not him fearefull that will not aduenture the losse of his life, for the losse of the wall) euen according to the lawes of vertue, he can not be honest that is haunted with the could desease of cowardise, you shall see my reasons, let vice but runne with an edge toole, he will dis­claime honestie, he will neuer assist the oppressed, for he loues not the weaker part, he will neuer instruct the erroni­ous, for a frowning reply quailes him, [Page] he will neuer proffit any by his exam­ple, for he is still of the same religion the greatest number are of, and they are vicious, thus can he not earne repu­tation, that is troubled with this falling sicknesse, perhaps put him in a Castle by cannon proofe well guarded and well victualled, then turne him to a parley (alwayes prouided there be no Gunnes without) he shall then say they do not well, and that honestie is a thing more excellent then power, but if these words deserue reputation, eue­rie body hauing their right, it must be parted betweene the garde walles, and the victualles, and to him must re­maine the euerlasting shame of an vnprofitable fellowe, that dooing no­thing takes more paine, then the most industrious valure. Couetousnesse, that makes men resemble beasts, whose bellyes neuer so hard stuffed, will yet teare a pray, though they can­not eate it, assaults not so vigorously [Page] as the spirit of feare, this frownes not but smiles, this takes not men by the throate, but by the hand; it infuseth gentlie the venome of corruption, which perpetuall hunger though it be not more deformed, yet is it much more dangerous then feare, for be­sides the same effects, (though by a contrary course) this presupposed in­uincible Castle is woone, for a coue­tous commaunder, can neuer be safe gardian.

I haue tolde the direct waye to Re­putation, the colour that the sub­stanciall body of Vertue caryeth, the seemliest and most blessed title of this worlde, for all others stand ey­ther vpon the pleasure of men, or fortune, both which are too incon­stant Lordes to be Tenants to, but this is a mans owne which he chal­lengeth, nor houldeth vpon no se­cond state, but the same power that giueth Princes Soueraigntie, [Page] giues honest men reputation. Estima­tion the destinated luster of greatnesse hath more to doe, he hath the enemies of reputation to resist, as he is a man, and estimations as being a great man, nay he may play the priuate mans part well, and yet fayle of his title, it is not enough for him to thinke well, to doe well, to be no coward, not to be coue­tous, all these particularly come not so hie as the marke, for his thoughts must cary a more ample nature, his thoughts must tend to the vniuersall profit, his actions so, he must not be content with his owne valure, but teach others the rules of fortitude, he must not onely re­sist couetousnesse, but punish the coue­tous: The noblenesse of these actions speake for themselues, they are bound of a rich voyage, from which may they returne into the baye without ship­wracke, they haue done so well as not to be mended, they haue no more to do but to die, and leaue their example [Page] to successors, whose liues if they at­tayne to an exact imitation with them selues, lift vp the memory of the esti­mation of their fore-runners, so eter­nall and euerlasting a thing is vertue, adorning great personages: so true, and iust, and liberall a rewarder is ver­tue to well deseruers of all kindes.

Essay. 30. Of Popularitie.

SO is the state of man inuironed with weakenesse, so irresolute are his acti­ons, as from successe he drawes daun­ger, from occasion changes: thus may I say viewing the occurrentes incident to this humour. Surely at the first foun­ded with the consent of commiserati­on and good name, but the effects fol­lowing too fast, we robbe vertue of her operation and rewarde, seperating her and our selues, and attributing all [Page] to our owne merites, as if there were a power in vs able to do well, that pro­ceeded not from the motions of Ver­tue. Certainely before the gaine inci­dent to this attempt, when accompa­nied onely with honest prouocations, and a sincere minde, it is well intended and without corruption, they put on the state of the oppressed, and pittye, they feele the wrongs, that others feele, & redresse them; but the strength of vertue inforcing allowance, ap­plause, and following, drawne beyond the compasse of our selues, impacient of vertues long last paiment, we snatch at the opinion of the world, and loose her, for she must be loued alone, then these pretences change their end, and what we meant once should purchase vertue, we lay out for vice, who now manageth an vsurped authoritie, and dooth some things seeming good, to doe ill after with the more safetie, and vnder the couert of Humilitie, Libe­rallitie, [Page] and Commiseration, meanes to inthrone Pride, the ingrossing all things, and crueltie; thus failes the foundation of a goodly building, ment to the good inclination of the louers of their country, but they are put out, and ambition dwels there. It is no wonder then though this common affabilitie hath ill successe, for it hath an ill intent. It is no wonder though it be the most cunning seducer, for it is couered with the robe of vertue, nor deserues it mar­uaile, though it coniure harts to be the meanes of their owne ouerthrow, since there is no baite swallowed with so much hast, as that of gaine & particuler contentment; thus is there destinated to this Arte much cunning, much dan­ger, much applause. That the state of mā is on euery side inuironed with dā ­ger needs no proofe; read but thy selfe reader, & without me thou shalt finde, vice hath fitted thy state with thoughts apt to deceiue and intice, all estates [Page] haue them, prosperitie as many as ad­uersitie, aske vayne glory els, which as much out-runnes the marke as mise­ries repining comes short or dispayre, all which beeing vnrestrayned by rea­son, carry man from his destinated me­diocritie, & so leaues him to the plea­sure of irresolution & vncertainenesse; but nothing so subiect is aduersitie to this staggering as the other, it is pros­peritie and successe that brings foorth this monster, who following the acti­ons of men more amply then they haue expected, hath wholy corrupted them, making their attempts that were fayre at the time of conception, when they haue beene actions foule and ill fauoured: thus haue many pretending to be reformers of state, through the fauour of thei [...] pretence grown migh­tie, beene deformers of a state: so hard it is for man to thinke well altogether, especially when his demeanure cari­eth a popular forme, bearing the title [Page] of the oppressds refuge, and patrone of the vulgar, whose wording fauour and showting allowance, hath such an operation with mans frailtie▪ as caryed from the true regarde and knowledge of his duty, he seemes like a feather gouerned by the breath of men. That there is danger, who seeth not? since he is a loft by the pleasure of others, a dangerous estate, for with danger they stand that stand not vpon themselues his foundation is the many headed multitude, a foundation both in respect of their number and nature vncertaine, and consequently dangerous, for who knowes not the diuers formes of mens imaginations, as different almost as their faces, which showes them easily seperated, & their forces being strong, no longer then whiles together incor­porated, being so subiect to be seuered, nay they going against nature, if hold­ing a continued vnion, what can issue from this confidence, but danger? their [Page] natures, but by the pleasure of nature and their education is left ignorant, which impotencie leaues a wauering disposition easily seduced, and as easily reformed, apt to beleeue a fayre tale, and as apt to beleeue weake reasons, strong: spent in contradiction, this makes them inconstant, for their dis­course not vsed to retaine things, makes them like any thing, because they are destitute of the vse of comparison. It is in euery mans nature to allow the state of others the vpperhand of his owne, euen rich men sometimes wish them­selues poore, but with much more ve­hemencie the poore themselues rich; thus are the vulgar often catcht, poore creatures, they wilbe enamored of gay cloathes and rich abiliments, yea euen of the persons of men, which they shal neuer haue the least vse of, who then obtayning grace from the subiects of fortune and time, who like inconstant builders are still erecting and pulling [Page] downe, and can thinke it meete to ad­uenture his state, his fame, his life, his soule, vpon such wauering opinions. These are vncertayne, how can the e­rection vpon these stand? the one and the other must of necessitie fall, for so go al things originally descended from our affections vncommixt with reason. But determine their fauour fetched from more reasonable grounds, from the doing them good and easing their yoke of subiection, this shall be found as vnstable, for haue they no neede, or is there neede beyond the power of remedie they are lost, for their loue comes from necessitie, alwayes louing them that they haue neede of, but ne­uer louing the needers of them. In the meane time the prince from whose careful circumspection nothing of this kinde can be concealed, finding a sub­iect ingrossing subiects, what can it breed but suspition, what ought to be the issue of that suspition but death? [Page] it being as iust and as naturall for them to remooue feare, as others paine: but were his course bent but to winne, not to abuse their loues, that immoderatly sought, is an offence, for all the posses­sions of subiects must be limitted, his honor, offices, reuenewes, power, and so the loue of the people, the generali­tie and grosse body of which is desti­nated onely to the Prince. Needes must they haue cunning that deale with this ticklish commodity of the vulgars fauour, they must carry an euen hand of them, neither to let them be empty, nor full gorged, they must nei­ther too often, nor too seldome see him, neither must he be too strange, nor too affable, for opinion is much more nice and curious to please, then iudgement, more quicke, more light, being soone off, and soone on, of a rea­die, though not of a wise dispatche. They are wonne with what they feele, and delighted with what they heare; [Page] are the chiefe tooles of this trade, Li­beralitie and Rhethoricke, these must serue one anothers turne, amplifying, gifts, and the actions performed for their commodities, with Eloquence; other times leauing the perswasion to the benefit, when benefits want, draw­ing the picture of Liberalitie in good wordes; their mindes are like queasie stomacks, that will surfet as well by the vse of one meat oft time, as by ex­cesse; their satisfaction resting as much in the varietie, as in the proffit. But no more of this, it is not requisite to fol­low this point any further, I haue oftē times seene them that ment to destroy vice, sowe it▪ then no more but this, the cunning of Popularitie, is like that of Iuglers, the cunningest of which can cast mists before mens eyes, but here is their neerest resemblance, Iuglers trickes goe most inuisibly by Candle light; men popular, with those heads that come no neerer the strength of [Page] vnderstanding, then candle light the light of the sunne: the payment of these are prayse and applause, a reward fuller of noyse then profit, of which they are as prodigall to their sportes as fauorites, with no lesse vehemencie, with no lesse number of circumstan­ces, so me thinkes it is doubtfull which they affect most, for their behauiour without all herauldry giues no marke of destruction. Much harme doth the possessors of these shouts and clamours receiue by them, for the knowledge of their actions, which from the account of others comes most impartially, help­eth their proceedings, for all they doe by a corrupt interpretation is called commendable; make him an Archer, if he shootes not neare, he shootes for all that a fayre shoote, so corrupt is our estimation of things not looking into the inside, but vpon their successe and fortune: who can then that deter­mineth, determine popularitie com­modious, [Page] since waying the discom­modities, the dangers, the paynes in­cident to it, and then behoulding the profit, we shall finde no profit, the de­duction hath consumed the summe, this body of breath is too mutuall to rest on; if not mutable, dangerous, if not dangerous, dishonest, who then wil spend his time in pursuit of a thing so diseased, as to be mutable, dange­rous, and dishonest? But the extremi­ties of the other side must with no lesse care be shunned, there belonges to e­uery man that desires safety to make the things appertayning to him, cor­respondent with his fortune, otherwise like a barke ouersayled, he runnes him selfe vnder water, and sinckes.

Essay. 31. Of Humilitie.

WE haue much labour and houlde in the obtaining Vertue, when we haue fought wel al day, we loose it at night, vice dogs vs, and neuer assailes but vpon aduantage; she comes cree­ping, and by degrees gets into our bo­somes, we cannot shut her out, for our gates will not be bard, our sences keep open houses, they are busie faculties, that loue not idlenesse, though they leade to idlenesse: be blinde, and the power of the eyes will runne into the touche, and then make that itche for both, take away foure and leaue the fifth, and that fifth will trouble vs as ill as all, take away all, we are senceles; so hauing sences, we are subiect to vice, hauing none without feeling. The rea­son of Vertues difficultie, is her inuisi­blenesse, [Page] it must be touched or tasted, or heard that they make much of; and so much of vertue is common, we can call her by her name, and tell of her excellencie but to translate her out of wordes, into deedes and actions is few mens cases, & no meruaile for the per­swasion of vertue being in a language that man vnderstands not without the sences interpretation, by their inter­pretatiō is corrupted, this makes them thinke those good deeds l [...]st that haue not the eyes of men for witnesse; the most detestable vices are those that de­sire to looke like vertues, and these come from the corrupt peruerting the soules motions, those meerely of the body though they be ill enough, yet are they not so ill, for they are naturall. Thus hardly doe we earne all vertues, humilitie excepted, which me thinks is so neare a kin to vs, so like vs, so fit for vs, as she needes no long wooing, we haue no other refuge but this, it is shee [Page] onely of all other graces that most tru­lie belongs to vs, and of whome we may haue the greatest part, for the rest send but their shaddowes amongst vs, she comes her selfe: they are all of an higher nature and more stately, but this vertue is humilitie, that teacheth the knowledge of knowledge selfe-knowledge, that destroyes Fortune, for she is delighted with nothing but ex­cesse of passion, but this hath but one countenance, that confoūdeth pride & counterfeiting, for she shewes her in­side, and thinks of mending her imper­fections, not of glorying in any, sure­lye, there is no doubt but the quest of the others is an honorable imploimēt, but the pursuit of this exceedes all in proffit, for without this the rest are not, all of thē being dispoiled of their ex­cellent natures, by an ouerweening o­pinion, but this true vnderstāder of our states, so sweetly cōmixeth her defects with those thoughts of liking, as taking [Page] away presumption, the abuse of our in­deuours, & leauing iust so much know­ledge as desends wearines & lothing, we happē of that true way, that directs the graces of the minde to heauē without danger. But because though we dare not say we mislike; yet we like that best, that is good both for soule & body, and that the body will, like chil­dren crye, if it haue not part with her fellow: that it is here a beauty, a helpe, a preseruation, is worth the proouing, we differ much in natures, and our lik­ings like not all one thing, yet was there neuer nature that likt the taste of pride in another, the sport of it is not pride likes pride, but will spit at one another, and make euen their owne imperfection, beare witnesse a­gainst the same imperfectiō in another; thus plaine it is, howsoeuer we hide it, and hiding cherish it in our selues, that by our opinion of others, the opinion of all others neerest a kin to iudgemēt, [Page] we hould pride a vile and loathsome companion. The creatures that giue vs earthly immortalitie, whose chosen e­uidence is beauty, if that not beautified with modestie, humilities other name, it is no lesse loathed then deformitie, it giues a sweetnesse both to the beau­tie of behauiour, and the bodies beau­tie, and turnes the beholders thoughts into admiration, that vnlesse thus ac­companyed, would end with enuie, and a repining against natures partiali­tie. The assistance of this vertue, is as much as her contraries dangers, neuer was there pride, though incompassed with the strongest guarde, safe; For it is a vice contrary to all natures, there is no other but may haue ayde, ayded by the hopes of gaine, or satisfying some humor; but Pride deuouting all things to vpholde her selfe, destroyes both loue and hope, and is left destitute of all manner of defence, it killes succors, and multiplieth enemies, the con­trarie, [Page] purchasing friendes, infee­bling enemies, therefore without que­stion, a vertue of great helpe & profit. But her best vertue is Preseruation, for beauty is but a colour, and not recke­ned amongst the substantiall, helpe may be helped, and yet haue neede againe, but Preseruation looseth no friend, and humilitie is the author, for sailing by this compasse, we knowe wheresoeuer we are, what we are, it is impossible for any place or any state to alter vs all fortunes are one, things that may stick vpon the body, but neuer vp­on the minde, thus is she the cause of Preseruation, for to preserue is not to loose, she looseth not therefore, she preserueth, making the minde constant and free. To tell how fit it is for man, it were fit first to relate the wretched­nesse of his state, an argument long and dolefull, but that it were a relation that would aske a long time, since it is of his miserie, shortly auerreth mine [Page] opinion, for those debased states vna­ble to stand vpon themselues, haue no other refuge but humility, a testimony of an obeying minde, & yet far inough from a deiected basenesse.

Essay. 32. Of Feare.

WE heare from our nurses and old women, tales of Hobgoblins & deluding spirits, that abuse trauellers, and carry them out of their waye, we heare this when we are children, and laugh at it when wee are men, but that we laugh at it when we are men, makes vs not men: for I see few men, we delight not perhaps in Iigges, but in as ridiculous things wee liue: nor this disprooues not their relations, for wee are misvsed by these spirites both night and day, some goe but a a little out of the waye, most goe con­trarie, [Page] yea succourlesse, for the Moone­light of sence is hardly their compa­nion, but the clowds of error wholy in­compasseth them, and in their trauells, pride catcheth some, luxurie some, hate others, couetousnesse deludeth another, ambition others, and my text millions, whose cases are desperate; For daye helpes them not, but then in­stead of thinking of these impostors, they see them and follow them, and loue them: of none of these haue we so iust cause to complaine, as of Feare, for most of the others are the diseases of our choyce, rather then natures, but this imperfect opinion catcheth hould in our very concep­tions, and when we haue not witte enough to bee cousined with the other crimes, wee haue then appre­hentions of feare and nothing is more conuersant with vs, then dismayed­nesse and terror. Licurgus ordeined the Laconian women the exercise of [Page] their limmes, wrasteling, running, and managing weights, and throwing them, it did well doubtlesse for the preparing their issue strong and sturdy, but had he giuen mothers the educati­on of bettering their mindes, he had done much better; matters of executi­on are the seruants of direction, weak­nesse is not so great a fault as igno­rance, and ill strength with a stronge minde more inuincible, then a strong body and feeble minde, but to my vse, we leaue our women ignorant, and so leaue them fearefull, which makes vs so weake harted, the mans part is soone done, he hath much more from his mo­ther, which being thus full of pusilla­nimitie, must needs susteine and make his issue fearefull, it will impaire a mās courage to conuerse with a cowarde but a twelue-moneth, to liue with them, and be nourished with such faint blood, cannot choose but make them like safetie best, and prize a whole skin [Page] aboue honor. I do not thinke women are much more faultie in Natures abi­lities then men, but they faile in edu­cation, they are kept ignorant, and so fearefull; Instead of these L [...]curgian courses, I would haue them learned & experienced, let them know as much as we know, and then doublesse they would be as fearelesse as we are, I am much against that Romaine lawe, that prohibiteth commanders wiues going to the warres with their husbands, all obiections set apart, their common­wealth would haue gained by it, for doubtlesse a wenche that hath beene in many countries, seene many bat­tailes, and is full of experience, is excel­lent to breed on, and if the Nurse were there to, it were well, for from her teat they suck somwhat of her constitutiō, in which I doubt whether there be not some fault, for we take the wiues of our groomes and tenants, to feede these little ones, and mingle grosse & heauie [Page] blood, with their gentile and spirited natures. This is that I thinke, now to that I see: there is no vice that wee blame so much to blame as this, no vice so putrifieth mans best part as this, for though voluptuousnesse and other frailties, will abuse the office of wit, & procure warrants for their purposes, yet in none doth wit strengthen opinion with such strong argumēts, as she doth feare, she will heere transforme bushes into men, bul-rushes into Speares, any thing into any thing, being still desi­rous of matter and occasion to do her selfe hurt: man had neede beware of these imbecillities, for their neighbor­hood to his reason makes them obsti­nate; hence commeth it, that no crea­ture is so good and so bad as man, for all other creatures are bound by na­ture, but the vniuersall circuit of mans minde, hath leaue to runne, into the extreame and furthest parte of things, which since it hath, well may we profit [Page] by it, as well as receaue losse, who hath the history, but of his owne time, and so much of yeares, as may make him hould the relations of the world shall finde the worst of calamity to bee a thing so ordinary and so incident to the life of man, as not at all to feare their approche but imbrace them as the appendixes and connections of life. I was and againe not to be, must giue beings to others, that time shall ruine me and my memory skilleth not, before I was, I was, in the same case, and when I am so againe, I shall not be sory for it, fame and obliuion & such things are coine of our stamping, & only currāt with our pouerties; those opposites to feare, as to be the fauorites of Fortune, to be rich, to be noble, to be any of these outward things, are but apparitions, things without all hold or continuance, time must doe his office, populate & depopulate nations, giue & take Empires and so downward, from [Page] the plough to the speare, and from the speare to the plough. ‘—Fuimus Troes, fuit Ilium & ingens, Gloria Teucroum—’ How many thousands of states are gone and vanquished, and hardly so much as that they were, is left, how many millions of examples haue we of things finished, as full of terror and terriblenesse as feare can possibly ima­gine? certaynely the payne of things rest not in the execution, but in the conceiued opinion, for it is too short to be greeuous, we make no account of the cramp, because it stayes not, yet for the time questionlesse it assaulteth the body more sharpely then the A­gue, death is but a crampe, therefore knowledge an Ague, looking into the state of feare, I finde she liues by two meanes, by ignorance and by know­ledge, by ignorance as the feare of children, by knowledge when ma­lice compelles knowledge to goe a­gaynst [Page] her knowledge, the first we are borne with, and many mittigate with industrie, the second vertue expelles. Of the first I haue alreadie spoken something, of which I say agayne the industrious search of letters vncaceth al these terrible apparitions that seeme terrible to the vulgar.

Vppon the first buckling of Caesar with the Heluetians, a cowardly com­maunder of his, lost him a fayre at­tempt, through the false perswasion of feare, that the enemie had possessed a hill, that was possessed with his owne forces, but himselfe neuer sped better, then when he drew his valure to the aduenturing his owne person, exerci­sing his handes as well as his heade. The examples of the auncient honest Philosophers as well as their speaches are ful of cōtempt of feare, they seemd to make warres continually with this [Page] opinion, & we are most of them as it is said of Zeno rebutters of that Sympathi­zing delicacie with heate, & colde and sicknes and the rest of the vulgar mis­leaders.

Fewe men in health and prosperi­tie can promise themselues this con­stancie, but to doe a mans good will is well, to performe which the medi­tation of fortunes foulest playe is good, imagine the woorst of misery and goe to fence to these olde Phi­sophers to learne the warding blow, mee thinkes the certaine beliefe of the pricelesse, value of things in the worlde, should doe much with a man, these things of reckening with the worlde are onely good in opini­on, estimation giues them grace and [Page] value, they haue nothing in them­selues, but men giues them what they are, from whom, if he will respect his owne pouerty most, and take them away againe, hee shall leaue them beggerlie and naked, and then see they are things neither good nor ill, but indifferently made good or ill by our vse.

There is no good to be done vpon these things but by contempt and scorne, and withall knowing the things contrary to feare, are no more riche nor solid in contentment, then these are procurers, dangerous and paine­full, we haue no trueth that our rea­ches can sticke vpon, that wee haue, wee haue by faith and beliefe our rea­son cannot graspe it, beeing too little and too shorte, there is a mortall vn­derstanding destinated to our vse, and in the vse of things is our cunning, [Page] and in this running the best lesson is, not to be apprehensiue of the stormes of the world, he that cries for his los­ses, must necessarily laugh at his gaines, do now not rebuke dayes and women for this qualitie, and shall men crye them mercie, and say they mistooke my sorrow & calamitie? Those things that are necessitated, thers an end of thē, they must be done, those things that may be resisted, and resisted gallantly, incounter danger and you shall soone know his pleasure, either he will make an end of you, or become a quiet fel­low shortly, runne away & he is more then at your heeles, for he is in your selfe.

As Li [...]sius in his Constantia hand­somly sheweth, the cure of the mindes maladie is not by the phisicke of tra­uayle, for all griefes must be cured like the wound that was incurable, but by the meanes of the wounding weapon, by it selfe, loking into the cause of the [Page] griefe, and finding sorrowe a fellow, that keepes an vnprofitable stirre, I hope you will holde your peace. Mee thinks Virgil makes Aeneas speake too like a nurse or a waiting maide, when commanded the repetition of his for­tune, he saith;

and after.

Well if Aeneas were of this minde, it was not Dame Venus, but Dame Feare, that wished him to flye from Troy and it was not a clowd but cow­ardise that incompassed him. There is a great deale of weakenesse and too much moysture in these heads, that cannot stir their memories▪ but straight it will raine. Saint Augustine remem­bers in his confession, the expence of teares that he was at, when he read [Page] Didoes end, verily it became his con­dition well, for teares are onely due when we fall short in our reckenings with God, then teares and repentance is behouefull, but in any other case, it is vnnecessarie, nay more it is vndecent. I haue not yet spoken of those far fet­ched feares that are drawne not from any apparencie of danger, that is ey­ther felt or seene, but from dreames, incountring with Hares, and the Salte spilling, other that go by the signes, or by Prognostications, prophecies, and auguries; times past were much gouer­ned by these. It is said Augustus was verye inquisitiue about his owne dreames and his friends; it was great pitie, for he was otherwise a very wise Prince, but he had a great fortune, and a mortall body, which are still at vari­ance, and blind-foldes the true discer­ning in which time, feare creepes in & ouer-valuing life, drawes preseruation from wrong places. For these auguries [Page] and fetching things from the intrayles of beasts, it was not amisse then, [...] no state can be vpholden without reli­gion, no people are well gouerned or succesfull in their attempts, without the annexion of diuine hopes to their earthly strength: but now when that is done by the true meanes, when men may fetch hope from a cleere possibili­tie, these things are to be discarded, & to trust to the soundnesse of religion. For the signes, I remember a speach of Cassius to a South-sayer, that wished him not to fight with the Parthians vntill the Moone had passed Scorpio, hee answered, hee feared not Scorpio but the Archers; These things are least of all to bee feared, they begge feare that picke them out of these occasions, hee that will interprete mischaunces out of these things, may take his leaue of tranquillitie, for some of them happen euery daye, which being inforced to these ill presages, [Page] makes the vulgar so full of sighs, excla­mations, and vncertainties; ‘Scinditur incertum studia in contraria vulgus.’

There are no mischances, there is no fortune, there is no miserie in our hu­maine liues, except we looke into the feeblenesse of our merits, & our Crea­tors bountie, in other things we are de­ceiued by imagination, the circūstances of things are more then themselues: ‘Exovitur clamorque virum, clangorque tubarum.’

It may be so, is it any more then death? tush cruelty can do no more, and for that, put but away opinion, and it is soone gone. In the meane time, see the behauiour of the suppressed Troyans weaklings, & the children of Fortitude, and thinke who carried thē ­selues to the graue most gratiously.

Now who would adde to the furie of an insulting enemy, prayers and pe­titions? no let it be death, let it be paine, there is yet left vs to conquer the victours patience, there let vs end; for those terrours that are exhaled by a guilty conscience, they are more incu­rable then any other, in spight of vice, our knowledge miscaried, will returne and complaine of her abuse, and the impression of her fault bring feare, and feare presents thoughts of terror, thus Nero beheld his murthered mother; thus tyrants are no where safe, though in the midst of their strengths. This made Dionisius make an Image that singed off his sonnes haire, not daring to trust a Barbar; this made Alexander Pheraeus vse to haue his wife searched for feare of murdering him, guiltinesse cannot be without feare, neither will Iustice long delaye their execution▪ [Page] which in themselues they finde, and so feare euery thing is a hangman. Many of the Romane Emperours at the hearing of the thunder would creep vnder their beddes and seeke shelter of the most vnable things to defend thē, poore people, it was not the thunder but their consciences put them in minde, like sea sicke persons that com­plaine of the sea when it is their trou­bled stomackes that diseaseth them, but this argumēt fitteth a more diuine hand, to them I leaue the examination of this honest remembrancer consci­ce, and end with the example of Numa Pompilius and Aurelius, who neede no gardes, for they were honest men, they feared not, for they were vertuous and vertue cannot feare, such is the power of that excellent and true guide of hu­manity.

Essay. 33. Of Silence and Secrecie.

IT is pitye this quality must borrow wordes to expresse it worth, but it is no more infortunate then all things which to become knowne, must bor­row sound and ayer, for though wee can thinke, yet thinke we not that en­ough without sending our thoughtes abroad to the censures of men. I con­fesse speach is to the minde, as conue­nient hauens to townes, by whose currents they grow ritch and migh­tye, but it dooth as these places of traf­fique doe, bring in not onely com­modities profitable and wholesome, but luxuries, corruption, and delicacie, I cannot well tell then which I should preferre of speach and silence, since the one doth to much the other to litle, [Page] speache inritching and corrupting, si­lence being poore but honest, but these are extremities which neuer prosper, vntill brought into the meane, whose mediocritie keepes each end from fal­ling, with-holding and paizing each side with the holdfast of the middest. I am not against speach, but babling, which consumes time, and profiteth no body, it is one of the blessings of na­ture, speache; but to ride still vpon the top of it, is too vehement; they are at great paines with feeding hungrie [...]ares, and to speake truly, are the very bellowes to kindle laughter, it carieth not onely this fault, for with all, it is vn­safe, wordes discouering the minde, and negligently giuing all eyes the sight of the heart. There is a wise Phi­losopher that calles wordes the sha­dowes of deeds, Sermo operis vmbra, this is his best, which is so slender as the true affectors of things, will giue their thoughts bodies and translate [Page] them more substancially. There is a more noblenes in deeds, in which may be read the worthinesse and vnworthi­nes of men truely, whiles words grea­test gaines, dooth but promise things, performing nothing. I finde no men affecting actions more throughly then these people of faire wordes, which makes mee feare these ingrossers of speech, are constituted of too much winde and ayre, and want that solidity which is meete in the generation of this deere issue of ours, our actions, which neuer faile to resemble vs more neerely, then the children of our body. Phociō was preferred before Demosthe­nes, because he spake not much, but fild his speach with stuffe, and was sparing of Rhetoricke▪ and full of reason. If he tels me their nature a right, I ioyne with his choise; it is with these for bettering the hearers, as it is betweene a few di­shes well dressed and a great feast, the sparing speaker giues you that which is [Page] wholsome and ouerburdens not your memory with superfluitie; the word­ing Orator is like our English feasts, where the stomack must winne way to the second course, with bearing the burthen of the first, & when he comes to it, hath lost the bettering himselfe by it, through the heauinesse of his first receipt: whē I heare one of these com­mon speakers laying vp his stomack, I let his words passe without any more attention then I bestow vpon a clock, when I care not for the howre, but he that solicits my eares but seldome, I re­ceiue his pleasure with pleasure, and willingly graunt him a roome in my memorie.

It was well aduised by Cleanthes to one that intreated him to instruct his sonne, hee saide, be silent, for besides the aduantage that he hath of a talker, of hauing all he knowes with­out paying him any thing for it, recea­uing it scot-free, it is also more becom­ming [Page] & instructing, for his behauiour is not carryed out of the way with fol­lowing his wordes, and out of that si­lent behauiour there is more wise­dome to be learned then from a mul­titude of wordes, and more with in­tertaining this silence, for he receiues from her, her wise and safe daughter Secrecie. Were I sure all men thought iust with me, secrecie were not neces­sarie, but since the speaker and exposi­tor vtter and receiue with different mindes, and that speach cannot carry her selfe to meane iust as I would haue her, I must defend her aequiuocall im­potencie, with bestowing her onely where she may be well vsed; it seemes the late professors of secrecie, which were not yet so secrete but to con­fesse that if their neerest attyre were priuie to their determinations, they would burne it, receiued this Item frō Metellus, by which I will shew you the example of a double exposition, [Page] Montagnia likes not the protesting this, nor I to say, so, for I would not haue vttred so much, but for the thing, it is a safe and an honest principle, for I will not conclude, their concealing things proceeds from the faultines, but since ill hath gotten that power, to cō ­uert things well meant, into their own vilde natures, it is best to keepe them from it; the integritie of the worlde is past, it is too late now to professe o­pennesse be it neuer so honest, for so neete may many of our actions come to dangerous intents, as they are best, when onely in our brests, for In du bium trahitur relligiosa fides. Secrecie is of two kindes, of our friends, and of our owne; that of our friends, religion com­maunds vs to keepe; that of our owne, discreation: for the first, did he not opē me by the power of friendship, I would not willingly neither giue it nor re­ceiue it, for he that meanes honestly, I thinke deserues as much thankes for [Page] being content to heare, as the other confidence in telling, for we are bound once more then we were, by his disclo­sing, and perhaps drawne, that we can­not eschew the dooing a fault, for if his secret be pernitious, I must betray him, or my selfe sinne, then he must go, and so I forfet a friend, and breake a princi­ple of friendship. I would heere vp­on such a desire, demaund if he sought it for counsels sake, if so I would heare him, if otherwise deny him hearing, for howsoeuer he meaneth, if he re­lieth vpon mine aduise, he shall meane, as I would haue him. Many States vsed to punish the laying open of secrets, with the losse of their babling instru­ments, which was a very iust lawe and a sure, for no example preuailes with a borne tatler, but the losse of his pick­lock; I wonder that the Barbarians ge­nerally doe not with those slaues they imploye neere them, depriue them of their tongues, as they doe of their [Page] stones, for feare of the abusing of their wiues and concubines, me thinks they should be as iealous of their secrets, as they are of their lusts. The Turkes they haue certaine Mutes to performe their executions, which since they are in for worse matter, may be put in a­mongst the rest for veniall; But to speake as I thinke, I hould the people subiect to this flux of words very dan­gerous, for by such, Scilla found where the possession of Athens might easi­lest be attempted, by Flauius that had this disease. The citie of Rome had the plague of a tyrant continued, I neuer knew tatling a safegarde, but the geese that preserued the Capitoll, which the Romaines rewarded with great care, popular states being neuer ingratefull to geese, these are all to be shunned, for their couuersations are more vnsafe then the fellowship of the most ma­licious, wordes being more pernicious then blowes, for no Fencer can warde [Page] them. Of our owne secrets the disco­uerie bewrayes a great feeblenesse and impotencie, it resembleth a clowde, that by the sunne is possessed of hotte exhalations, but is so weake as not to keepe them, desire drawes vp thoughts of assistance, but when the desirer hath them, ouer-burthened with their strength, they burst out and dissolue him; thus all his attempts ouerwaying the minde, are brought to nothing, which weakenesse of mans were ill, were not man so ill as to haue ill af­fected thoughts, but hauing such it is well, for thus most conspiracies against Princes are preuented: for an honest man, it is a great blessing, for a disho­nest the contrary, an excellent punish­ment. So must I conclude of secrecie, which if you will call craft or pollicie, I must answere you with these two verses;

Essay. 34. Of Humaine Con­tenment.

BEhold the godds of the world, the soule of action, the motion of the inhabitants of the earth, the point, the conclusion where vnto all thoughts are reflected, this is the maister of al trades, Arts, sciences, and professions, for this, the husbandman findes a sweetenesse in labour, the Artizan in following his trade, the Artist in the inquisition of knowledge, souldiers in pursuing dan­ger, polititians in the working of the minde, in plotting and fetching in strange conclusions to vphold practi­ses; this is the garland, that makes ene­ry one loue victory, this is the reconci­ling obiect of the discenting constitu­tion & courses of mē, for they al agree, that contentment is the place where they desire to end their iourneyes. But that the worlde should haue still the [Page] right vse, and not be desolated with mans neglect of inquiring & vttering her secrets, this contentment is fashi­oned like our loues, what I call fayre, another thinkes ill fauored, another out of deformities pickes beauties; thus contentment, which according to the minds of men is drawne out of a num­berlesse number of courses, which mi­stery of natures doth make all agree. That contentment is to be sought, and to disseuer them in the manner of their search, ioyned with the other of mak­ing all formes louely in some eyes, vp­houldes the world, for by this last, the world is peopled; by the first her peo­ple made industrious, and the great vo­lume of the world in no corner left vn­noted, but stirres and flourisherh as the chiefe and master peece of Nature. Thus do we propound a cause and rea­son of our life, and make euery day be­get vs occasion, eyther of following or learning to follow our quest, when we [Page] do not go forward our selues, we be­hould others, which like a mappe layes out the course of our trauaile, but when according to the excellencie or grose­nesse of our choise, the determined contentmēt approcheth, we flie from, not the inioying, but the opinion we had, another contentment is set vp; that obteined another, so doth our hu­maine liues runne after contentment, but neuer ouertake her, we cannot, for contentment is diuine, our bodyes earthly, our mindes we feele ouertakes her, for the propounded contentment pleaseth her, she imbraceth it, and is already in possession, but when it comes, so short dooth it fall of her ex­pectation, as shee erects another, a plaine argument of her diuinitie, and a true signe, that reall contentment is not of this world, nor to be grasped within our earthly armes.

Essay. 35. Of Trappes for Fame.

I Had not neede to teache the world new opinions, for I holde all I know, more by tradition, then reason, I haue a braine like a French force, that dooth it best first, my incountring an argu­ment is most vigorous at the prime op­position. I after fall and waxe lazie, and in truth shallowe, I doe nothing well, but speake much worse then I write, and perhaps worse (in something) then I can doe, which I must confesse the fault of my braine, for I neither lispe, stutt, nor speake in the throate, nature hath made the cariadge of my wordes large, and swift enough, but I wante marchandize and stuffe, the Italian ci­uilitie would well fitte mee, where the ouerthrowe of an Appositor is counted discourtesie, and they call him [Page] in disgrace, Vince guerra. The reason of this exordium, is the view of the workes of Nature, and our varietie vp­on them, fewe men receiue any thing with the like vse, but occasions or things represēted, begets in one, feare, in another, furie, in a third, feares har­binger amazement, in a fourth despe­ration, some of these differ much, yet shall one occasion beget all these at one instant, which makes me thinke our discourse findes out more vses of things, then our senses qualities, yet am I not of Empericus minde, who holdes the quallities of things to be more in number then our sences, and that we recken our knowledge to see all, as Alexander conquered the world, because in his time there was no more knowne. I am not of his opinion, for all things being made for man, and his sences being fit for both life & know­ledge, his seruants sure which are all things sensible, haue no more trickes [Page] then he knowes of. But thus new am I in opinion, that the receptacle of our sences intelligence, with ioyning, quar­tering, and mixing things, imploye them farre from their accustomed pro­perties, which my subiect here will plainly exemplifie. Man being the most substanciall and most canning peece, accompanied with a head that masters and is Lord of all things; How hath he fallen this second time, more vainely deceiued, and more miserably punished then in the first? He fell then with a baite pleasing to one sence, and when he fell, fell vpon a good substan­ciall body, where there was good foo­ting, and hope to, of rising, but here he is fallen into smoake where he may be choaked, but cannot liue nor walke, he is fallen into fame; to entertaine which I know no sence destinated, vpon a thing not to be hādled, not to be riddē, not to be seene; children would not haue doted thus; not to be eaten, glut­tons [Page] would not haue so miscaried, not to be touched, an amorist would not haue beene in loue with it, not to be heard by himselfe, a light headed mu­sition would haue shunned it, not to be seene, a Faulconer would not haue lured it; yet all these that are able to make so good an election of their de­lights, sacrifice to fame, and flatterie is their priest. There is certainly but one end, whereto the intendments of man are destinated, which prosecuted rightly, is eternall happinesse, this is not fame, for she dyeth often in her birthe, commonly ouercome by time, and sometime men famous haue had their memories dispatcht, eyther by obliuion or detraction, before death hath made an end of their liues; all these working where the bodyes growes couetous, and would haue the gaines alone, are vicious, he must not determine any thing particulerly, for he is none other then a hired seruant, [Page] and his wages is life, the proffit must be giuen to the soule, whose predominant power, is also compelled to vse the body, for the soules performances without the body are not vnderstood, contemplation being a good vnprofi­table naked life. Both working toge­ther, and both agreeing in their pur­pose questionlesse, they would deter­mine vpon some more lasting rewarde then fame. They would lay for vertue, for eternitie, for the fruition of a neuer dying happinesse, but this Essay must speake like it selfe, not what should be, but what is, thē to the baites for fame: The actions of these differ not, frō the prouocations of vertue, for as much as appeares outwardly, for they professe valour, temperance, liberalitie, and the rest of the lims of honor and honestie, but in the minde that works these mo­tions, is the disagreemēt, the one being spurred by vertue, th'other importuned by the tickling of applause. This same those anciēt Philosophers that so much [Page] enueighed against fame, well know­ing the tyrannie of such thoughts, which where they get entrance, ouer­throwe all that rest in the place more modestly humored. Infinite are the baites that are laide to catch this, no­thing farre surmounting the number which curious Fishers haue found out, and yet in one thing they well agree, for they fit the couerer of their deceit to the time; Fishers hauing flies for the spring, the fall, and the winter, fame catchers, countenance, seemings, and aspects, for a state good, or bad, or in­different, both their baites go downe the streame, both purchase not by force but deceipt, both looke pleasing, but swallowed, are dangerous, and to con­clude, both labour for their bodies not their mindes. To speake of those petty fishers, that nip their bodies, and cast them into more mowldes, then their mothers bellyes, that neuer read any thing but how their ruffes stand in a [Page] glasse, or of those that growe olde in the obtaining the name of a good Fencer, dauncer, vaulter or wrastler, were to no purpose. These are but tri­fles, and indeed, though not vertuous yet plaine dealers, for a ietting behaui­our, or an action with their hands, or the curiositie of their clothes discouers them; no I will speake of those that Painte so in oyle, as the examination of a sharpe raine will hardly discouer them, of those that carry the worlde about by the nose, of those that keepe their mindes more hid in, then women their limmes, how many of these mas­ked creatures haue mine eyes beheld, laden with the honors of the world, and set in the highest top of estimati­on, who, were the world inquisitiue any further then the outward sight, they should haue found, not vertuous, but betrayers of vertue, Rogues with counterfait pasports, and coyners of false money, inwardly though they be [Page] idle, yet they baite their hooke with a profession, of which they continually talke and acte their partes, like Nero his Philosophers, whose wisdome laye in their vnkembde hayre, and rugged beards, and ill cloathing, and counter­feite grauitie. Nec de [...]rant, qui voce vul­tuque suo tristi inter oblectamenta regia, spectare cuperent. Thus contrary are they to the time, when their singularitie may puachase admiration without danger. The valiantest of these will be souldiers, but vnwillingly feele eyther danger or hardnesse. But no profession nourisheth them worse then this, for at sometimes this gallant actiue life will bring him vpon triall in spighte of his hart, when these gilded spirits will be known for the couerers of rottē bo­dies; this life of armes hath almost dis­couered the whole worlde of fame­mongers, for it is a receiued axiom Honor once acquired, is not to bee ventu­red. Montania in his obseruations vp­on [Page] Caesar deales somewhat to indiffe­rently with his taxers, for this alleadg­ing a prouerbe, that the ould souldiers of Italy vse to mocke their young ad­uenturers with, calling them Bijognio­ [...]i [...]de Honore, in which mocke they dis­couer their owne actions (let the world thinke of them what they will:) to be counterfaite stuffe. True it is, a quarrell must not be vndertaken by a priuate man without iust cause, but hauing a iust cause, how ridiculous it is to deny resistance, because already tryed, as if because they hauing been valiant once or twise, licenceth cowardise for euer after. A generall must ioyne to this re­spect the occasion, if his force be more necessarie at any time, then his directi­on, it is necessarie that he vseth the fit­test instrument for the time, but to holde the gaines of this vertue, as gamesters doe their gettings at play, which because they haue [...] much, will aduenture no more, is an impotent [Page] shift of a painted minde, we are not so neere the riches of the minde, as we can be full, neither is vertue so incon­stant, as to let the outward sences ob­scure her worth, the soule that begins with vertue, whether she winnes or looses, is still vertuous, and her disciples rest not, because they haue filled the mouthes of men with praises, but be­cause occasion offers them not com­bates of this kinde, for so formed is the minde of vertue, that hazardes looke not terriblie vpon her, comming into battels and skyrmidges, as into the Schoole of her exercise. Surely, there are fewe humaine actions but may be bettered, & if not bettered, yet at least wayes equalled, and so the number be­ing increased, they are better, the ofte­ner they are performed, winning i [...] comparison the lesse, but so dangerous are our natures, as they surfet both with good and bad, actions bearing grace, so ouerpeizing the bodyes basenesse, [Page] as he knoweth not how to vse his vic­tories. I haue seene fewe that haue beene happy in these atchiuements, but some tricke of pride, disdaine, or ouer-valewing himselfe, hath made him a looser by his ritch commoditie. When I read Liuie, I found times past were euen with vs in this imperfecti­on, for Publius Horatius murther of his sister, because she kindly did her kinde in bewailing the death of her slaine spouse, was the vomit of the vndige­sted honor that he had one. But I think the Romaines were not sorrie for it, for such states know better how to reuēge then rewarde. Successe and fortune, are like hot Wines that immeasurably taken, helpe not digestion, but set the straine on fire, for such meditations are as burthēsome to the braine, as waight to the shoulders. I confesse there is a great satisfaction in the executing of these high attempts, and I hould them not hurtfull, but restoratiues to the [Page] minde, if managed by the skill of rea­son, and thought of by a knowledge, able to limit the desert. I would choose a young man that loues fame, much sooner then a heauy spirited fellowe whose sluggish earthly thoughts can­not mount so hie. A young man of this fierie condition, a little allayed, will make a wise man and a vertuous man, but in age it is a disease incurable. I do owe very great respect to those metal­led yongsters, that thinke of honor and of high practises, euen that con­demned fellow of the worlde, that sought Fame in the ashes of the Tem­ple of Ephesus, I thinke he would haue equaled Caesar, if he had had educati­on answerable to his spirite. Honor hath but two wings wherewith shee mounts aboue the vulgar, daring, and applying, and this fellow had one of them, he durst, but wanting the other, the poore creature fell, & ruined him­selfe. The next are fellows that (fearing [Page] blowes) honour peace, and crie out with Tullie, Cedant arma togae, concedat laurea linguae: These shoote at Fame, vnder grauitie and iustice, ending all their actions with the commendations of peace, excusing the bastardy of their natures with the Grammer rule, Dul­ce bellum inexpertis, and houlding wis­domes best qualitie, to consist in keep­ing the bodie warme and whole. I would haue little to do with this peo­ple willingly, were they not a mem­ber of mine argument, which since they are, I must say of them, their greatest hurt is vnprofitablenesse, they shoote but lowe and not farre, lesse fame will serue them, then Alexander would haue asked for his little finger, in a word, they are good foyles ro adde to the lustre of a Iewell, or like cy­fers that make figures pretious. There are more wittie cowards of a higher reache and more profit, that like Tully will smell danger farre off, the vaine [Page] affectation of these fellowes, is a pat­terne of their generall natures, which is full of a blowne pride, and a dastard­lie shining, what wise honest man durst haue beene so bould as this fellowe, to crie out himselfe? Ego meis maioribus virtute Proeluxi; but they are valiant in things that vallor feares, they dare not incounter an enemy, nor beholde dan­ger, but they dare do things more ter­rible, disgrace their auncesters, and commend themselues. This is not they but the false ground they build vpon, which is euer shrinking and showing his burthen, it is impossible that the motions of a minde led onely by fame, should be otherwise, then a trembling vnsettled thing, that is vertue only, that repells feare, and feare only that makes life troublesome, without Vertue, Iu­stice is not; without Iustice, no tran­quillitie, Iustus a perturbatione remotis­simus, in iustus perturbatione plenus est. Well may these fellowes follow and [Page] goe with company, but leade, or go a­lone they cannot, feare and the affecti­on of fame are inseperable and though they set a gallant countenance out­ward, yet inwardly they looke for as­sistance as well as prayses. These false Laizers that coūterfaite the faire essen­tall hue of vertue, vntried, may seeme the same, but they are too cheaply ob­tained to hold al wethers, they buy not nor boyle not those neuer stayning co­lours that dyes in graine, but cozin the world with trash, that can goe no far­ther then imitation, they are to them­selues vncertain, to their frends hollow and weake, inconstant they must be, for they fetch all their determinations from the continuances of other mens and vpon them build either by scorne­full lookes, or the basest basest deiec­ction: oft times haue I seene these sup­posed grauities so pinched vp in for­malitie, as without question they haue indured more paine for same, then a [Page] [...] [Page] [...] [Page] [...] [Page] [...] [Page] [...] [Page] [...] [Page] [...] [Page] [...] [Page] fellow infamous in the stockes, it is odds but they act their parts first by themselues, & after get them by heart, they spitte all one way, and vppon no occasion will alter the tune of their hem [...]es, and coughes, their bodies & their heads go alwayes together, they must not turne the one without the o­ther, neuer laugh, let the occasion bee neuer so iust, their eyes must neuer make a turne, but gallop right forward, in a word, they are lockt vp in formali­ty, and barred is the chest, where they inclosed with the eyes of men. Were there a more substancialnesse of fame then there is, this were a deare ear­ning of it, to deny the course of nature in these indifferent things, nay it is more, for it makes nature a superflu­ous Artizan, for wee neede no limmes to play this part, no not a soule, for my picture can doe this, better then I, Vbi turpis è medicina sanari pig [...]t. This medicine tastes ill, the cure is [Page] earnd to dearly to swallow this potion for amendment, I had rather be disea­sed with some ill iestures, then put on these French bodies of formalitie. I am rather of Epicurus minde, who would lay in iust so much prouision of fame, as would defend him from contempt, Gloriae curam habiturum, quoad con­temptut non habeatur, to be licorous of more is plaine gluttony, leaue the rest to the world to do, what they will withall, for wee haue more neede of other commodities, we are too much behind hand with nature to bee im­portunate for earnings, hee is an ill commaunder of an hould that spen­deth all his treasure in painting, and making gaye what should bee laide out in munition and fortifying his foretresse; pleasures, false desires, feares, perturbations, errors do yet liue and leaue our enemies, besiedging and ingirting vs round, and haue we [Page] leasure to paint and tricke vp and set vp tokens of triumph before the victo­ry. Non vita nostra aut stultitia, aut gloriae vanitate opus babet, sed solum tran­quilla et secura a vita; this is not purcha­sed by flattery but by continuall cor­recting and amending of our wande­ring ill shapen thoughtes and actions. Those that baite fame with misery, and with immoderate longing after riches and the basest earthly compositions of all others, thirst whiles it goeth no fur­ther, is good for it is the heigh way to temperance; besides I thinke it a great sinne to consume wastfully the inhe­ritance of our auncestors, the Grecians had a law, that denyed them there fa­thers sepulchre that consumed their patrimonies wastfully, and great rea­son I thinke; for wee cannot behould a more lamentable sight, then to see a house that hath long stoode in honor and reputation ruined and desolated by prodigality, It maintaynes aboun­daunce, [Page] which freeth vs frō many vaine thoughts, that loue that most, which they haue not, they that haue not much, must loue frugality or else they will haue lesse, they that haue much, by frugality keepe it from wasting, they that are left rich it is irreligious not to leaue theirs rich; but of these Epicu­rus speakes in one of his Epistles to more purpose. Frugalitatem magnum existimamus bonū, non vt semper vtamur modicis, verum vt nisi multa habeamus, vtamur pancis, verissimè credentes illos magnificentia frui suauissimè, qui illa nimiùm indigent. But he that will draw worthinesse from wealth how dooth he robbe heauen, and dispoyle vs of the graces of the minde? questionlesse the robbing of a Church is not so sa­crelegious, neede causeth the ones theft, but this theft comes from to much aboundaunce, hee leaues vs the most miserable and needy creatures of the worlde, for wee haue neede of [Page] more then beasts, yet none catch fame sooner then these, more reuerence is throwen vppon them then vppon the most reuerend subiect of vertue, but it skills not, wisedome seeth their pouer­ty and pitties those, that the world ad­mires: quis illos igitur putet beatos, quos miseri tribuūt honores? The opinions of some to be seldome seene, to appeare in the eyes of men far from the fashi­on of other, to suffer any thing, for a faire out side, are the courses that ma­ny take, but all these courses are too strict and vnsafe, they promise much more then they are able to performe, and suffer their habits to compell them and leade them a painefull and weari­some iourney. Our determinations ap­peare better formed when performed, then promised, they haue then a faire birth & a pleasāt, which they haue not, that prepare the eyes of men to won­der before any thing commeth, the ef­fect of a promise, is but the payment of [Page] a debt. The suddainnesse and vnexpec­ted view of a thing, makes it admirable and beautifull, which made that anci­ent Philosopher Pittacus, forbid the talking of what he will do. Quod facere instituis, noli praedicare, nam sifacere nequi veris, rideberis. Now he that in his at­tire or customes affects a singularity & an odnesse, proclaimes it with many tongues, for euery gesture, euery moti­on, & euery thing about him is a tong. The last means is by the way of letters, which though the instrumēt of all the excellentest actions of man, being the most neere & deere seruāts of vertues, being her chiefe factor, her other selfe, her medicine curing the infirmities of man, expelling the leprosie & drosse of nature, yet not able to defend her selfe frō the being abused by counterfet ser­uāts (vnder her band march many) that neuer were inrolled nor interteined, but they are easily found, bearing their pasports vpon their toungs, & in their [Page] very behauiour, may be easily seene how they labour for applause. But for the true deuoted seruants of letters, they are questionlesse, the happiest and worthiest of all, receiuing from the pure springs of knowledge, a water so quickning and cleering the sight, that nothing is impenitrable, be it armed, eyther with distance, darkenesse, or with neuer so many intricate passages: how much doe we owe to times past, that left knowledge so discouered and open, as we with much ease in respect of theirs inioye a riche patrimonie thereof? surely we owe a reuerence to their names, and should neuer men­tion them, without acknowledgment of their excellencies, which though they feele not, yet doth it nourish in­dustrie in the hearers, and explane vs not robbers but debtors of the dead. I happened very lately amongst my bookes to meete with Diogenes Laer­tius, where I was much delighted, euen [Page] more then euer I was with any booke, for I do beholde their words and wri­tings with nothing so good a stomack as I do their liues, and to know what they did; I found hardly a page, but I wished my memory, to gather some griftes in them, not a line but so full of precious liquor, as the words were too shorte wasted for the matter, he is in great estimation with me, and shal­be one of my neerest companions, and by Plutarche his leaue, haue the vpper hand, for I finde fewe of his captaines Philosophers, but amongst Laertius Philosophers, many captaines, and in­structions for common-wealth causes, not inferiour to Plutarche. But in the meane time the sight of this a­boundance brought me to feele more senciblie our dearth, such is the barren­nesse of our time, as the worlde in an age hardlye brings forth a famous man, which whether it be the fault of our idlenesse, or that our industries are [Page] killed by sensuality, or tendernesse or gluttony, I finde it is so, the cause were to much curiosity for mee to hunt for. But fame may rightly hang ouer their memoryes, and rightly, since they all imbraced the sweete effects of vertue without caring for the esti­mation of men though all the grea­test Princes of the worlde continu­allye made loue to them and offe­red them aboundance; See the confession of Antigonus to Zeno Citicus. In fortune and glory (I thinke) I exceede thee, but in the liberall studies and perfect felicities, which thou possessest, I beleeue, I am by thee farre excelled, and toward the end of his Epistle, this periode, for he that teacheth and instructeth the king of Macedon in vertue, cer­taynely instructeth also both him and his subiects to fortitude and ho­nestie. How would our glorye hun­ters haue accepted of such an em­bassage [Page] from a Prince, certaynely it would haue burst them, or at the least wayes haue distilled them into an Epistle most flaunting and adu­lating, but hee farre otherwise, comming no nearer commendati­on, then to encourage him on in the continuaunce of his good deter­minations, and sending a scholler of his to him, himselfe through age, beeing vnfitte for trauayle. Thus happye were many of them to de­ny the reputation of the worlde for vertues sake, liuing liues so temperate as instructions came doubly from them, for they that coulde not at­taine vertue through the difficult pathes of Philosophy, might reade it and vnderstand it in their liues and examples, yet this, abhorring the vulgar licentious waye, leades mens eyes to suspition, whether the entent bee fames or vertues; let it, mee thinkes I heere them say [Page] it shall not turne vs, for vertue were not precious, if not accompanied with danger and detraction. I thinke they would haue said thus, and so charita­ble am I as the actions of them draw­ing more neere the affectation of fame, I interpret otherwise; euen that excellent head of our time, the elder Scaliger, though he wrote many things tending to his owne glory, and did himselfe turne the inside of himselfe outwarde, yet I thinke he wrote it to spurre on sluggish spirites to the race of vertue, rather then for his owne glorie or memorie. And euen for Montania and my selfe (who in these matters of excuse I may safelie ioyne with me,) though we doe som­times mention our selues, yet are we not to bee suspected of intrapping fame, wee allowe men in their liues to build their tombes, and we allowe charitie to set the first letters of their name vpon the gownes and coates [Page] they giue in almes, shall it not be lawfull then for vs to build our tombes in our papers? and to weare our names in our labours? yes surely, it cannot be denied vs they are our children, which if they resemble vs, it is not a thing monsterous, but pleasing and naturall.

Essay. 36. Of Knowledge.

I Praise and reuerence the power of these words, Fiat lux, I honor the seperatiō, that made the Chaos a world, I reuerence that diuine scituation of the Elements, that dissenting, consent in their adioyning qualities, but of all, the creature that was made for all, Let vs make man; O diuinest breath, whose in­fusion made him breathe. Man hath the superioritie of all, & is the worthi­est of all, for he consisteth of a soule by [Page] the fathers side, diuinely discended, and capable of a deuine inheritance, and of a body, the most perfect and full of misteries, that it is possible for earth to put on, whether can knowledge bend her force, more excellently then, then man to looke vpon man: this know­ledge is profitable, for it is for himselfe this knowledge is beautifull, others, this omitted, is curiositie, others, with­out this is ignorance, for it hunts for light without light, in himselfe he must begin and end, for in himselfe is the light of reason, that disouereth all things else. He consisteth of a soule & a body, by reason of which soules ac­companing with the body, she knows nothing not incompassed with a ma­teriall forme, from these two are discē ­ded two children, Reason and Affecti­on; Reason is the soules, and is the mo­ther of Knowledge, Affection the bo­dies, whose perfectiō is life, which per­fection shee maintaines, the conduits yeelding increase to these two cest­erns [Page] are the sences, of which, [...]ight and hearing are the seruants of the soule, taste, touche, & smell, the bodies, whē these attend their destinated fūctions, the commonwealth of man flourisheth when the soule is obeyed, & the body obeyeth, when their seruants sent of Embassages, tend their cōmanded ne­gotiations, but then ruined, when the sights marchandize, becomes pedlers stuffe, & the eares bell mettal, drosse & lead, when the tast becomes vnchast & is licourousnes, the smell so curious, as to thinke nothing sweet but Muske, & the touche will presume to be a coūsel­lour and to aduise. They differ not frō the frame of a state, which is in frame so long as knowledge ioines with obe­dience & the liuetenant of God vpon earth, nature is obeied, but whē humors vsurpe reasons name, and shadowes are beleeued substanciall, then Ixion em­braceth a clowde for Iuno, so vanisheth pleasure, and after comes the torture of the time breaking wheele, there is ple­sures reward.

Diuine knowledge, from whom pre­ceedeth all blessings none of these mis­takings and riotts belong to thee, but peace and wisedome, for thou mana­gest all things iudicially, that neither chaunce can ouerthrow nor rob thee of thy conquests. The world is like a spheare spectiue peece, knowledge the circkle, shewing the proportion in this peece truely, nothing but know­ledge can performe this office, for she sees them with the eyes of meditation with the soules sight, heere are they vnmasked, heer the vniuersal matter of things is knowne, to be one, changing but formes, like players that must bee vnderstood other men, because they appeare in others beards and cloakes, heere can be no mistaking, knowledge disdaines the rattles and gibby horses [Page] of the world, knowledge feares not but what is to be feared, loues not but what is worthy for to be beloued, knowes all things, and to all things renders his due, and with tranquillitie liues, and without admiration sees, and without sorrow feeles, all the shapes and apparitions of the world. These see man if he seeth himselfe, being a [...]mpendium of the world, and hauing in himselfe what is in euery other thing, the thing onely excepted that is aboue all things, he hath a being with stones, he hath life with trees, he hath sence with beasts, he hath vnderstand­ing with Angels, which vnderstanding is the crowne whereby his principali­tie ouer stones, trees, and beasts is knowne. What should man then looke vpon but himselfe, since in himselfe is all, and more then all other creatures or substances haue, to behould which the true glasse is naturall Philosophie, in which he must dresse, morrall, and [Page] adorne his life, for morrall Philosophy is the grace of ilfe, weaue this toge­ther and it will proue a stuffe outlast­ing time, naturall Philosophy shewing vs what we haue, morrall, how to vse rightly what wee haue. Reason hath two quallities, knowledge, and direc­tion, whose diuine and most power­full faculties we lost in our first fathers fall, what was once a flame is now but a sparke which by these two doctrines is againe made a flame, knowledge by naturall Philosophy, by morrall di­rection, without these, ignorance casts darkenesse ouer vs, but hauing this direction and knowledge making a commixture of their vertues, know­ledge teacheth direction how to commaund, direction giueth know­ledge maiesty and power. These or­der the sences and makes their effects come to the determined period, teach­ing those belonging to the schoole, to gather wisedome for the soule, which [Page] two destinated seruantes though they present the minde sometime with al­lurments, yet the execution of all vice belongs to the other three the assistants of the body. What ariseth from these sences are affections, what affection thinketh but opinion, affec­tion like the parents medleth with single obiects, the minde graspeth v­niuersalities the mindes imploiment is about things firme, the affections mo­mentary and sading. Who seeth not then, to bee led by our affections, is vaiue and beastiall, who seeing this will neglect the minde, whose ample territory stretcheth euē to the heauens.

I account our sences and their affec­tions, like Phisicke drugges, which are one waye poyson, another waye preseruatiues, when they worke onely in the bodye they preserue the body, but if ouercharged with excesse [Page] the fumes smother the soule, and makes her aguish, distasting what she ought to taste, furring her mouth with super [...]uities, and making her not know true pleasure and vanitie by the taste. What blessings or cursses can I thinke of in the world, but are deriued from these two heads, these were the two wayes that Hercules was led vnto: these are the two wayes that leades to knowledge and ignorance, these are the two wayes that part light and darkenesse, in a worde, these are the two waies that make mans life either happy or vnfortunate.

Thus haue I anatomized the partes of life, of which if Phisicke be so care­full [Page] as to anatomize bodyes for bodi­lie diseases, in these where minde and body are to be both inquired into, care cannot be called curiositie. To meddle with effects without the causes, is to tell him that is sicke, he is sicke, not to remedy his sicknesse. I will nowe speake more feelingly, and speake of euents and actions, which in the petti­gree of knowledge, is knowledges last discent. Contemplation thinkes well, action ought to do well: of contem­plation, it is too vnsensible to dilate, so contrary to custome and nature, as it would be hard like Poetry, the touch of the phansie. But action is euery bo­dies case, he that can but wipe his nose is his acquaintance, of which I will speake my opinion, concluding all in the managing these three, Prosperitie, Aduersitie, and Danger. If I should ex­empt knowledge from all things, but the happinesse of vnderstanding, it were well, but it is not taken thus by [Page] the world, no, sildome it meetes with the worlds diffinition, whose maine is riches, and eyther pompe or pleasure, luxurie or power; of these; what one is there whose gaine hath not beene knowledge, that the waight of them hath not pressed downe, and been like a Milstone tyed about the neeke of a swimmer? Is it wealth, and is it gi­uen thee thinkest thou onely to nou­rish thy sensualitie? foole that thou art, which hast thirsted after thy destructi­on, how much would pouertie haue become thee better, since wealth prooues but an instrument of thy de­struction. I accompt wealth and wante the touch-stones of dispositi­ons, euen in their vttermost extremi­ties, they agree in this, wealth melting substances, not throughly substan­ciall, and wante vndooing their pow­ers with his chilnesse and stormes of immoderate colde and heate, man is impatient, so of prosperitie and [Page] want, which are not so vnlike, as not to fitte a resemblance. There is ver­tue in wealth, as there is in any ma­nuall instrument handsome and pro­ [...]itable, if in a skilfull hand, that feare­full Simile of the sacred bookes, that sayeth; It shall be as possible for a ritche man to enter into the king­dome of heauen, as a Cammell to passe through the eye of a Needle, is meant as I hould not by any pro­priated course incident to wealth, but incident to the disposers of wealth, because commonly disposing it to their owne ruines, for charitie is a commaundement, to whose perfor­mance, wealth, is a visible testimo­nie. It is the vse that carryes the cursse, the thing is innocent, it is a newter, for can we seperate it from vayne glorye and prodigallitie, it is a steppe to eternall felicitie and hapi­pinesse. To come to this iourneyes end, wee must passe by two daungers, [Page] not bestowing too much vpon our selues, not bestowing, where it may bring foorth pride, rather then defend want. I neuer sawe it yet, though I should be happy to see it, a man curb­ing his owne disease of excesse, to be­stowe it vpon others needie, we are content to starue our selues, to wante handsomnesse, to depriue our selues euen of the necessaries of the worlde, to feede the vnsatisfied appetite of co­uetousnesse, in the which we suffer so much, as not to thinke of our owne v­sing this store during our life, we need do no more, to do vertuously, alter but the person, and loue not another better then thy selfe, and thou art in the waye of heauen, put in thine owne name for thy sonnes or heires, and thou hast purchased a diuine inheritance, I, for them, giuing from them thou aug­mentest their state, purchasing a bles­sing vpon their house and life. I know not the thoughts of wealth, for I was [Page] neuer wealthy, but as I am, I neuer see excesse, that my memory laments not the want of penury. How vnequal­lie, nay how foolishly mannage we our states, that neglect heauen and buye damnation with surfets and excesses. A particuler faith serues a seculer for­tune, in these holy misteries, my know­ledge aspires no higher then the sal­uation of one soule, in morallitie common to all men, I may speake as well as any man, because it is mine as well as an others. So strong is my pro­position, as I neede not the valure of diuinitie, morrall reasons will shewe how excellentlie Liberallitie becomes Plentie, and Plentie without Know­ledge is not Liberallitie, but a chest that vnnecessarily maketh much of his store without vse, or els prodigal­litie, which in confuming is no lesse vi­tious, then couetousnesse is in sparing: what haue we that the vse makes not precious, dominion, pallaces, riches, [Page] what els, if not vsed, lies without any more contentment then the things take in themselues, which haue none other but a sencelesse being, me thinks contentment can be bestowed vppon nothing more rich, then to see crea­tures by nature neglected, by thy good nature maintayned, wherein thou sur­passest common nature, for she gaue them a life, but thou giuest more, a contentment of life, for she gaue them life, which ending there would haue proued misery and vnhappinesse, but thou giuest him life and from his life remouest those torments, which are worse and death. How beautifull doe these actions looke vpon vs, so truely are these belonging to the soule as li [...]e two lutes meeting in pitch and nearnes, the striking of the one makes the other sound, so these thoughts st [...]ooken by the memory, maketh the soule rebound a sound of ioy, and con­tentment. Solon to Craesus telling him [Page] the frailty and vnstablenes of wealth sinkes so deepe in my thoughts as I wonder it hath not beene aduise to all such fortunes, those plenties left him in his greatest neede; but then Solons counsel shewed him, how like flatterers these outward glitterings are, he then cryed out of Solon, and vnderstood his wisedome, which before hee could not see through his magnificence and power, which lay betweene him and wisdom. Who would not then buy li­berallity with temperance, and sparing from himselfe that which is to much, to giue his brother that hath too little? body and soule are preserued and glo­rified in this, for the body neuer sendeth the stomacke to tell vs, we haue eaten too much, but the soule feeles it too, when the stomacke riseth against the meate, the conscience dooth against intemperaunce, and as one feeles the meate, the other dooth the sinne of the surffetting it is not the destinie of euerye man to bee ritch, [Page] but euery man is destinated to be a man, and if thou remembrest from whence thou camst, hee came from the same place, wee estimate pi­ctures that can but counterfaite the life, but this hath life, hath flesh, and bloud, is thy brother, wilt thou be so partiall to thy sight and so vn­naturall to him to preferre a sence be­fore thy selfe, the barke of a thing be­fore the thing substantiall? this lookes but like a man, but this is a man hath reason, hath speach, and all things else with thee, but what thou knowest not how to vse.

Thus staggereth ignorance in the disposing of wealth, but knowledge makes them steppes to ascend the throne of glory, he wauers not, hee playes not fortune, dispersing blinde-fould, [Page] nor sinckes with couetousnesse, whose nurse is a minde vnsatisfied, that doth starue himselfe, to weaken him­selfe, for his wealth is a baite to the world, and his miserie leaues him de­stitute of defence.

No, knowledge sees these things to be fading, his strength is in himselfe, if he haue these, he betters not, im­paires himselfe by them and ends.

I need not say much of prodigallitie, since it speakes as ill for it selfe as his vttermost enemie can, onely it is worth the noting, how couetousnesse prayes vpon vnthriftinesse, which shewes the wisedome of the eternall goodnesse, who hath giuen one sinne leaue to lashe another to death. In pri­uate fortunes it ends with beggerie, in high with infamie, in both with re­pentance.

I neuer see prodigallitie but accom­panied with troopes of vices, and their end is cōmonly, a yong vnthrift an old cheator. I will speake no more of these priuate, of princes prodigallity a little, it is necessary princes reward seruants, it is necessary they supply vertues need, but neither, to much, it is good to keepe them in appetite, for performance cō ­meth of more roundly, when the soule and body both hope of reward then when the soule alone, for then the bodye waxeth lazy and becomes slug­gish: Much more dangerous, was De­metrius taxation vpon the Athenians, which being so much as hardly in their powers to contribute: at the receipt he gaue it his concubine to buy soape with [Page] this smarted doubly vpon the taxed people, for it stroake them with shame and losse, which had they had power, they had reuēged, & did with the pow­er of their tongs questionles sting him with infamie. Where publike actions inforceth the vse of the publike purse, princes must shewe an extraordinarie temperancie, & demonstrate those cō ­mon contributions are spent for the cō ­mon profit, vpon no priuate. I hold ad­uersitie neerer a kin to vertue thē pros­peritie. I haue heard great men com­plaine, they haue no leasure to per­forme their best businesses, and this is prosperities & powers fault, so busie are their liues about their cōmings in and layings out, as their liues & knowledges are not far different frō a marchāts coū ­ting house, wher the bils are, Itē for the body & about the body, but the soule, hath nothing, no not her windowes glased, that she might looke abroade, but stopped they are with rags & durt, [Page] so dispised and forlorne, doth fortu [...] make this creature borne to eternall light, so vngratefull are we to her that gaue vs life, not to returne her light. Aduersitie needes not Phillips boye, to wake him with the clamor of mortal­litie, no, aduersitie seeth cleerly, the mists of adulation are not cast before her sight, she heares with her owne eares, with her owne eyes she seeth, with her owne head shee iudgeth, Plentie flatters the sences and the af­fections, but she wanteth this, therfore them, she can tell, that it must be death, without the custome of the Easterne Monarches, who were crownde and modeld their sepulcher in a day, Si vis vacare animo, aut pauper esse o [...]ortet, aut pauperi similis, pouerty is ready for this, not needing the conflicts of reason and affection, and so happy shee is, as to make wealth counterfeit her, when she would be let into the house of know­ledge, though we be riche, if we will [Page] be wise, we must not let riches cleaue to our mindes nor ingrosse our loue. Pouerty is the way, ‘Res quibus occultas, penitus conuisere possis.’

Against this and all other aduersities the way to withstand them is know­ledge, loue them not and thou shalt not be shipwracked with their losse, that thou shalt not loue them, know­ledge will shew thee, that they are vnworthy to be beloued, since there hangs about them vncertainty, in that certaine perill of distraction, they nou­rish wishings and longings, before whom goeth doubt and griefe, after whom commeth repentaunce and shame, in our lightest matters who hath consideration, paizeth the com­modities or discommodities attending them, and casts them away if belong­ing to discommodities, in our profoun­dest matters let vs not be more light, but examine them and then doubtlesse [Page] we shall dertermine Aduersity the man of glory. Beware of beleeuing the re­sister of these, for they are affections, whose lightnesse not able to pierce the profunditie of these things, likes better what they know; what should I say more of danger, then that knowledge knowes her vttermost, and therefore cannot be dismaide or afraide? that this is true, see children more fearefull then olde folkes, fooles then wisemen, ig­norance breedes feare, knowledge re­solution. Re cognita, statem cessat timer: saith a Philosopher, Feare then is gone if Knowledge comes. If it be still daungerous, by knowledge thou knowest it is dangerous, and know­ledge will teache thee to intertaine it with resistance or patience, how so euer she giueth thee the victorie, for patience is inuincible, conquering when resistance is conquered, he is not ouercome, whose discourse & re­solution can say with Vlisses: Hoc quo­que [Page] c [...]r perfer, nam (que) hoc grauiora tulist [...]. As in this, so in all things, knowledge like the sunne kills feare and darke­nesse, & makes the foundation where she is the sement, not to be shaken nor stirred by the stormes of the worlde. As his sight is cleere, so are his steppes right, no apparition nor colour distractes him, neither with ioye nor sorrowe; that childe of the Phancie, appetite, in beasts it is called appetite, but in mā it is termed his wil, a word of command, which authoritie is giuen him for knowledges sake, who knowes what to will, for otherwise did he appetite without knowledges coū ­sell, it should be appetite in men as wel as in beasts. What should man will thē, but knowledge, by this wil is made pre­tious, when he goeth from this, he go­eth to beasts, it is appetite, from whom pull but the paintings of the worlde, and it is like a tyrants pompe.

How admirable is this vertue, which gouernes here so wisely as no shot nor tempest of the world can batter her, how lasting is this vertue, so embalm­ing our actions, as time cannot ruine them: sloath & sensualitie are drownd in a few yeares, but knowledge & her effects are immortall. In historie and other relations, euery head can deter­mine of vertue and vice, let our heads make vs do this for our selues, let vs im­partially see how often times we haue stumbled for want of this light, if we come to this sight, we shall come to more, for this examination is the way of light, without this, Homo homini do­minus non est, sed mors & vita, voluptas, & dolor, but with this, with Socrates, Me quidem Anitus & Melitus occidere possunt, laedere non possunt. Fortune, the world, or all that is in the world, with this armour is vanquished, for know­ledge [Page] saith of Fortune, Fortuna vitrea est; quae cum splendet, frangitur, of the world, Homines perturbantur non rebus, sedijs quas de rebus habent opinionibus. It is not opinion that is in knowledge, but iudgemēt, who waieth euery thing with the ballance of Iustice and discre­tion, what more cā be said, but that she is so pretious, as hauing her, thou wan­test nothing, in a body thou liuest, but in a minde thou ioyest, and death doth no more to thee, but make thy alrea­die obtained sight more cleare, with seperating of mortalitie frō eternitie. The world is sweetned by thy exam­ple, & fame makes thy memory resoūd ouer the whole worlde, and thy name liues in spight of time or detraction.

Essay. 37. Of Iudgement.

AMongst the rest of the fruitefull children of Knowledge, Iudge­ment, [Page] me thinks is her deerest issue, for they are inseperable, they resemble one another so neerly, as hardly can a distinction get betweene them, if be­tweene them, it is onely in their place, for knowledge goeth before iudge­ment. The perfection or blessednesse of knowledge, is this her childe, it is the rewarde of her trauailes, it is the tri­umphe of her victories; she saith: ‘—Et summa sequar fastigia rerum.’ And iudgement answers her, thou shalt determine rightly of euery thing. The most resplendent ornament of man, is Iudgement, here is the perfection of his innate reason; here is the vttermost power of reason ioynde with know­ledge, here is experiences haruest, for the excellēt vnion of reason, of know­ledge & experiences, ends his knitting vp with the excellentest perfection of man, Iudgement, what giue we, wise­dome, what giue we, the scarres and battailes of age, but Iudgement? what [Page] hath the most excellent men to prooue their excellencie, but the title of Iudi­ciall? what is wisdomes other name but Iudgement? for Iudgement is wis­dome: who able with the wings of reason to moūt his soule into the pitch of this meditation, and is not couetous of his time, and repines not that na­ture hath made him so weake, as to satisfie her weakenesse, he must often be carryed from his quest, but who ali­enates his minde with the houlding other things more precious, how doth hee drowne himselfe in perils and dangers? If the very name inamours thee not, what wouldest thou haue that she yeeldes not? honour, wealth, happinesse, dominion? why all these are in her, what can merite honour, but iudgement? wealth thou desirest but for neede, but hauing iudgement, thou needest not wealth, happinesse is iudgements, for she neuer knewe misfortune, hauing her, thou hast [Page] dominion ouer the worlde, for Kings commaund but bodyes, but the minds of all that are not iudiciall, shall be thy subiects, and lic prostraite before thee, but these with Iudgement are but like the puppets of children, or pictures liuelesse, for they are broken with the least blast of the world, if not, by time, but no time ouerthrowes iudgement, she meditates of eternitie, and hath al­ready put her possessor in possession of eternitie; Though she meddles with the world, as being of the world, yet so safely, as she cleaues not to it, nor is not astonished to leaue it: Good Ar­chimedes, me thinkes I see thy calme­nesse and contentment, in the middest of the ruines and bloud of Syracuse, so busie about knowledge, as not hearing the clamours, and noyses, not labouring for feare, but for knowledge and iudg­ment, and when he was interrupted by his murtherers, he asked not life of them, but a little time to finish his in­tendment; [Page] what a tranquillitie of minde was heere, how gloriously did he looke through danger and death? It is not pompe nor shining roabes that giues grace to the body, no, it is the minde that is in the body, who houlds the preciousnesse of iudgement, and whose preciousnesse tels him death & tortures, and the enmitie of Fortune, are not blemishes but graces to him. Who will haue to do with the world, must take as well the stormes as sunne shines of the world.

She is vnchast and inconstant, and in the end of all thy labours thou shalt be forgotten and despised, it is dangerous to be too skilfull in the matters of the world, witnesse the Athenian Ostrocis­me, where to be higher then the rest in vertue, was expulsion, witnesse all times, all states, where the noblest haue begun with praises, and ended [Page] which disgrace & banishment, comest thou to the toppe of promotion, and dyest thou there, what is thy gaine? the ages after takes no knowledge of thy ritches and magnificence, but of thy vertues, not of thy rewardes but deserts, Vbi nunc fidelis ossa Eabritii ma­nent? he attaind to places hie, his fame was great, yet his temperance in refu­sing Pyrrhus gift is his best and most lasting sute, had not Cato dyed in the defence of his country and common wealth, his fame had dyed with his bo­dy, thus are the actions of the worlde full of dangers, & without iudgement, of destruction. But come to the mana­ging of a state with iudgement & thou canst not be throwne, what though thou seest examples of ingratitude, of dangers, of death, these in iudgement thou seest rather terrours then dangers thy end is to doe good and these letter resisted, innobles thy intendement, my country gaue me life, it is my duety to [Page] giue it her againe, but what is life in respect of vertue, alas too meane a pur­chase. I haue a soule whose perfection rests in resisting the childish opinions of the body and that soule knowes it is ignominious to deny a publike good for a priuate perill, no vertue comes to vs pleasingly, but after, come pleaseth, it is vices baite to seeme sweet at the first tast, the cōtinuance is the vertue which shews her the child of eternity, & safe­nes entertaining pleasure, demonstrates mortality & dust. It is not danger with iudgement, what the world calles dan­ger, the losse of vertue not of life is vn­happines, then for our country all our endeuours should bend, not because honor and promotion goeth that way, but because it is one of the lessons of vertue, we must not looke after danger and corruption but after the purity of vertue, had Caesar died when his con­questes and gouernement of the Gaules, made his Countrye hould him a true seruant, how much more cleere [Page] and shining had he left his memory then it is now with his perpetuall dic­tatorship, what might haue beene ver­tue, is now polluted with ambition, and all those vertues that without this might haue beene called, fortitude, temperance, liberallity, and pacience are now not these, but counterfaites of this, he was not, but seemed vertuous, for vnspotted uertue calles none ver­tuous, that haue any other end but her selfe, howsoeuer the grosnesse of our sight vsed rather to colours, then truth, would perswade vertue to put one a more mixt body, yet thus is vertue, and thus she may be brought acquainted with our soules though our vile bodi­ly composition cannot comprehend her, none can tell but they that haue felt the many conflicts the soule in­dures with the body, whose impuri­ty not tasting the purities of vertue, drawes the naturall well inclined parts of the minde into the vnnaturall natu­rall [Page] affections of the body. In this Cae­sar questionlesse▪ were more many graces, had they not beene disgraced with conuerting the sweete abilities of his soule to the bodies gaine. B [...] thus a young experience may produce many examples where the aboūdance of vertues reward ouerwaying men, hath sunck them, for the eyes & tonge of the worst haue this inforced instinct though they do not well, yet must they praise well doers, and in the middest of thereill, exalt vertue. I thinke Caesar meant well to his common wealth so long as his common wealth was his maister, but declined when their power declined to his will, thus be­tweene too much and too little, wa­uers the life of man, no reward makes him desperate, too much ambitious, but iudgement swimmes betweene these, and neuer touches any of these extremities, she labours for vertue no [...] power, she runnes without the stop [...] [Page] eyther of feare or couetousnes, I won­der at this infection of greatnes that it can so blind vertue, thinkes no further then death, & the reasons to ouerthrow t [...]is theft will shew them reasonlesse that affect it: neither in number propor­tion nor quality, can one equall thou­sands, what reason is there then hee should be preferred before them, there is iustice against it, one cannot with­stand thousands, there is safety against it, and could hee wante danger, yet he that wantes not guiltinesse is neuer without the torments of feare and suspition. Ne vitima quidem sortis ho­mi [...]um conspiratione periculo caruit, as hee is a man he wantes them not, but beeing an ill man, are they not in­creased? and fame the roabe of great­nesse is it not ouer-throwne by this? Yes who seeth not, that the best priuate performance answeres not a meane publike, a greate deale of pe­till and paines of a priuate souldier [Page] ranckes not in mens mouthes with a generalls but comming within shotte, the least mannaged Duello car­ries not the grace of the hauing but beene at a skirmishe of small mo­ment, hee that dooth but for him­selfe, though hee doe well, yet it is no woonder, it may bee mentioned perhaps in a ballad, neuer in an hi­storie.

Fame is not so light, as to saile with a small gale, it must be a winde of force that mooues her sayles, which neuer is so forcible as when a good action is good for all. But Caesar robde the worlde, brought all the proffits of his common-wealth to be his onely, of which, that it was in-iustice all sees, that it was daungerous he felte, and for fame the spirite of his actions are commended, the disposing of them, because not hurtfull vnto vs, not exclaymde agaynst, but aske Iudgement, and surelye hee will [Page] condemne him for killing vertue which ambition if after death we be­hold them impartially, who would not choose to be Camillus the sauer of his countrey, rather then Caesar, the de­stroyer of his countrie, how warme and cherishing to the soule are acti­ons like Camillus is, what a sweete­nesse comes from the ayre of such a meditation, when the other feeles as much cruelty inwardly, as he effects outwardly, and byes a beautifull out side with the tortures of his hart. That corrupt speach of Caesars vpon Scilla, Scillam nesciuisse literas, qui Dictaturam deposuerit: Had Scilla out liued Caesar, how well might he haue mocked his greedy body, when in spite of it great­nesse, it lay intangled and liuelesse in the Senate? Scilla saw this, and eschew­ed it, Caesar marked his iudgement, and found to late there was wisedome in moderating power. But all this saues not greatnesse, all are tempted, many [Page] yeeld, few hould out, wee vse power commonly as meate, not nourishing ourselues, but surfetting, to please our tast, we ouerlaye our stomackes, thus we abuse the preciousnesse of things, that it needes no wonder though there be a frailty and weaknesse in what we are, and haue, for we pull it vpon them and vs, with abusing all, this is the oddes and preciousnesse of greatnesse ouer meaner fortunes, that by their greatnesse they may doe more good, vertue in lowe states lies buryed, in high it standes a lost, poore men may thinke well, but ritch men both thinke and doe well, here is all, greatnesse hath no other circuit, no other ought be his end, for power is giuen him by the incomprehensible greatnesse, com­pared to whome his is leste then no­thing, to no other ende, that he hath, then to support the weaknesse of mens fortunes and vnderstanding head to dispatch it, not that he hath [Page] a body to consume is his desert, power is not to do wrong, but to punish do [...] ­ers of wrong, and wealth I should holde a burthensome companion, were not liberalitie a vent, for were it not for that, it is good for nothing. But this to the hearers seemes rather trueth then possible, those thoughts make vertue impossible, vice workes all her doceits with sweetnesse and lazinesse, and these catch almost all dispositions▪ for where a good disposition resists the former, vice calles difficultie impossi­ble, and so lazinesse killes those, that pleasures let goe: but Vertue saith▪ Caronam, at bletae nisi certant, non acci­piunt: thinke but of the rewarde of vertue, and the paine is nothing, if thou dyest in the attempt, honor at­tends thee to thy graue, honor attends thee, peace attends thee, fame at­tends thee; in a worde Vertue attends thee, in whome are all the rest, and more then all, for vertue marries thee [Page] [...]o heauen. Thus comes greatnesse to an excellent periode, without this it comes to destruction; Iudgement chooseth the waye of Vertue, Opi­nion of vice, which dissolueth into in­famie and repentance, greatnesse without iudgement, brings forth tyr­anie, and all the vndirect ascen­ders to this top, are like Caligula, of whom Suctonius saith: Nec seruum [...]ellorem vllum▪ nec deteriorem domi­ [...]um fuisse; but greatnesse counselled by iudgement, hath Pater Patria, within which is Iustice, Fortitude, Temperance, and all that makes a state flourish with peace and plentie.

Essay. 38. Of Natures pollicie.

THe Glasse wherein the minde be­holds it selfe, is Nature, there she [Page] seeth the beautifull lineaments of her owne proportion, and might not mine opinion seeme to digresse too much from the world, I would sweare there is no life, no sweetnesse, no content­ment, that intends not this more then any thing, wee know not how much wrong we doe our soules with com­pelling them to be play-fellowes to the bodyes wantonnesse; I will aduen­ture it, the worst that opinion can do to me, is but to oppose her selfe against me, and I feare it not, then thus, they are childish or beastly courses, that are taken for bodyes sake, only that excel­lent and diuine facultie excepted, that keepes societies in societie, that make many bodies one body, that reconciles the differing and disagreeing vnder­standings of man, and knits them vp in an vnitie, the preseruation of whole admirable concorde, we call pollicie. This studie becomes the most deuine spirits, as long as they are in bodyes, [...] [Page] so much subiect is the soule to the bo­dye, as in confusions and troubles she is troubled, and therefore Pollicie pro­ducing peace, and peace giuing liber­tie to the soules workings, gouerne­ment and pollicie are the destinated and direct obiects of the soules that are yet in bodies. But doth not this compel vs, from a more deuine and more aspi­ring inquisition? it dooth not, for the rules of pollicie are no where so truely written, as in the workes of nature, to the works of nature is the furthest iour­ney, that our soule can carry vs, as long as she beares the burthen of a bodye, then vnder this tutresse, is the beste of [...]he best knowledges to be learned, be­ [...]ng the instructor of the most excel­ [...]ent naturall courses, either actiue or contemplatiue.

This Architectres shewes the first groūd of pollicie, the societie of things [...]greeing in kinde, this, she hath giuen [...]o beasts that haue onely sence; nay [Page] to her Elements who haue onely qual­lities, so may it seeme not by discourse nor excellent grace, but euen by a single infusion the meanest, wee natu­rally thirst after a participating & com­municating with things of our owne kinde, there is euen in all these three kindes, a singular contentment in this, for beastes whose onely pleasure is fee­ding and the appetite of generation, hath their stomackes increased by the stomackes of the heard, and hath fe­males vpon whom to execute the most forcible commaundement of natures and their full pleasure, each Element by the assistaunce of the same, is more able to resist things Antipatheticall in nature their onely care, and man whose voyce carrieth interpretation, & whose reason fils that voyce with mea­ning, what can he desire more earnest­ly then his communicating reason, and by the other faculties of his con­stitution to giue his reason the force and [Page] strength of many. Were it not thus, it would be a Chaos, for the separation makes a world, which seperation standes by the agreeing and disagree­ing of natures. Yet hath shee tyed the vnderstanding of all thinges but man, within the compasse of their owne constitution; so seeke they no further then a particular preseruati­on, in which both they are conten­ted, and nature serued, how admirable is our mothers wisedome, she hath gi­uen no creature reason but man, had she to an other, all her trauailes should haue serued for the foode of ciuill warres, such being the effect of an e­quall power bent to the obtayning a great dominion: the next is her skill in preseruation, of which, though the most assured gaine is hers, yet is it so commixt with a particular sa­tisfaction, as vncompelled they wil­lingly performe her commandements; thus should Lordes commaund that [Page] would not haue their seruice slacked, neuer to imploye any instrument of their will without giuing them an in­terest of contentment, yet might it be couertly handled, otherwise it will make them mercenary, the destroyer of loue and obedience, and the bringer in of restinesse and rebelliion, it is to be safeliest done, eyther by teaching them the dutie of each state, by mak­ing them vnderstand the worthinesse of a life that runnes directly in his de­stinated course, or else with showing them the effects of their labours, and with them comparing the vnhappi­nesse of the actions of disobedience, but natures knowe not what they do, and yet doe her pleasure, he that can finde instruments of the same temper, is likely to make good worke: All the rare and variable actions and formes of Nature, are tempered and performed onely by her foure seruants the Elements, she vseth no more. A [Page] plaine demonstration, not the multi­tude, but the diligence and discipline bringeth things to the wished ende; though Caesar could call all his souldi­ers by their names, yet I doubt whe­ther he were perfect in all their na­tures, it could not be, and yet might be, in the course of Armes it bredde no danger, but when it came to coun­sell, I beleeue he would not thinke their names assurance good enough; but to speake of the councels of peace, which giue all exterior actions their shape, it is not meete they be many, but selected out of many, for the soundest councels proceede not from largenesse of the company, but from largest vnderstandings, for them that vse many, as seruants, not counsel­lours, it is not so hurtfull, yet haue they so many windowes for passin­gers to take it at, and to discouer what they doe. Nature constitutes but foure, vnder which number she [Page] hath reduced all the things of the world, so ought a polititian that intēds the keeping the body of gouernement in good forme, to make euery crea­ture of his charge belong to one of the ordained states of his signiory, by which hee shall defend his country from idle straglers, and suppresse one of the meanes of innouation. Out of these foure constituted bodies, hath shee made all things, there belonges no more to her whole frame, whose situation and whose number is an­other lesson, they are foure, so are the different states of a common wealth in her exactest constitution. The Prince, Nobility, gentry, ple­beians natures, agree and disagree in qualities, the one in respect of their situation, the other of generation, thinges altogeather like beeing, as vnprofitable as letters without a vowell, so ought the degrees aboue mencioned, for were they altogea­ther [Page] contrarye there coulde bee no combination, if altogeather a like no generation, no order, nature of hers hath giuen fier the prehemi­nence, whose neighbour ayre is, and they agree in heate, water is next the ayre, and they in moystnes, water with the earth in coldnes, the prince with the Nobility in mortalitie, the Nobles with the gentry in their refined bloud, the gentry with the Plebeians in subiection, the fire is the most hye, the most worthy, the ayre lesse wor­thy but behoofefull, the water to bee vsed not vsing, the earth an immense and monstrous body, whose worthinesse consists onely in his quan­tity. Such must be the care of lawe gi­uers and founders of societies; as their incorporate body hath both there a­greeing and disagreeing qualities, by those agreeing, to keepe them in ami­ty, which is alwayes the effect of an equall interest, euen as Princes [Page] by alliance seeke to assure themselūes of one another, by this disagreeing, to haue all the sundry imployments of a seate, fitted with managers meete and skilfull. After the creatiō of these foure fellowes their imployment, the indus­trie of nature, is well seene in her chil­dren, to whom she hath expresly for­bidden idlenesse, to keepe which pre­cept she hath made neede an ouerseer, and corrector of the disobedient, her elements are continually busied eyther in composing bodies, or if single in be­ing assistant to bodies, if they be not thus they suffer a mutation, the most abhorred thing to their natures. Trees are continually busied in conuerting the sweetest of the next adioyning, earth into bowes, branches leaues and fruite, if they do not they dye, beastes haue their foode to prouide, from which if the desease of lazines or age diuerts them they starue, man the no­blest creature is not so sharpely com­pelled, [Page] but by his gift of reason hath his choise, which if hee dooth abuse, he becomes vnprofitable, a course much more terrible then the rest, of this idlenesse, comes many mischiefes, as first his vnprofitablenesse, next his ill example, and oft it proues worsse, there beeing none so dangerous thoughtes as those that are breade in this languishing slouth. Dracoes me­dicine for this was death, I doubt whe­ther I should condemne it for too sharpe, for that execution disburdened his Countrey and was likely to cure the behoulders, but a more gentle medicine might haue serued as well: beware of that, there beeing nothing more dangerous to a state, then to iest with offenders, if you confesse the debt, pay it them, or you leaue them worse then you found them, well, if it must be cruelty, yet it is a pittifull cruelty, and Dracoes lawes very good for the behoulders whatsoeuer they [Page] were for the vndergoers. From whence nature fetcheth the stuffe of her work­manship, is onely from her selfe, she hath fetched them from the pouertie of nothing, and giuen them a being, a meanes to holde them in their duties, for it binds them both by loue & feare, beholding the benefite, gratefulnesse compels them to acknowledgment, if dishonest & vngrateful, they are easili­est suppressed, whose obscure originall receiues their light not frō themselues, but the assistance of others, but this example must bee allayed, before it comes to the practise of men, other­wise taken, it will prooue poyson, som­what there is in it, not vnprofitable, but it must be carefully prepared, for wee are not so early as before the begin­nings of things, we haue the pleasure of the vse, not of the making, to attēpt which, is not without apparent danger, it is not out of the way, to raise poore fortunes with riche mindes, neither wil [Page] they be vnprofitable if regarded light­lie, but if suffered to amount, they be most dangerous, for as things naturally colde, through force made hotte, burne most ardently, so is there no ambition so violent as the beggars ambition. There are examples enough of slaue and seruants, that haue stept betweene their maisters and death, as many that haue aspired to their maisters' authori­tie, here was the vse and abuse of those inferiour instruments.

Nature coun [...]elles with no bodye but her selfe, an instance not fitte for man, because the weakenesse of his vnderstanding needes the force of as­sistance, but that they should be fewe, and selected, is a wise and the neerest imitation that we can attaine vnto, the reasons are two, those councels are likelye to bee kept secret, that are committed to a few, it being an infal­lible precept to laye a mans estate (if [Page] neede requires) vppon many, his thoughtes and weighty intents vpon few, the other reason, there are but few to be found so honest, as not to a­buse this authority conuerting their counsels to their particuler benefite.

To counsell is the best office of a friend, but let him bee a friend with whom we counsell, Omnia cum amico delibera, sed de ipso prius. Since we must vse helpe, let vs bee sure hee is so, to whom we trust, so the discretion by nothing receiues so great a check, the estate so great a losse, the life so great a danger as by the choise of a dissem­bler a foole or a coward for our friend and counsellor. Tiberius in his whole course neuer proued himselfe honest, but neuer a foole, but in his trusting▪ Neither is this most powerfull Em­presse lauish in her rewardes, she ha [...]h created things one aboue another and [Page] giuen them degrees of preheminence, but shee corrupts not natures with a prodigall heaping promotion, vpon promotion, for well knoweth she that the inforcing things, beyond the li­mites of their conceptions and essence, wholy corrupts them, and makes them as vnprofitable as age in a strange countrie. But this denies not rewards, the foode of a mortall goodnesse; which it must haue, or els it [...]ildome liueth, but the temper and the right distribution is the thing that nature teacheth vs, for in this aboundance doth the minde surfet, as doth the bo­die by aboundance of meate. She hath made nothing without an vse, an ad­uice, fitting high and lowe, whose che­rishing creatures without vse, markes them at the ende with an F. or B. to make which imposition to endure ea­sie, she hath more things to set them about, then one, and fitteth disposi­tions with taskes answerable to their [Page] dispositions, of this I haue spoken be­fore, yet is it so certaine an effectresse of things prosperously, as to remember it againe is not superfluous. Hauing thus constitution her gouernement, she detests nothing more then mon­sters, be they neuer so excellent in some things which she hates, either because they are not hers but fortunes, and her wisdome and nature is to hie and ex­cellent to mother that pedlers brattes, or else they are rebells that in dispite of her authority and skill will breake out into the worlde and disgrace her cunning, the same reasons ought to make states no lesse abhorre the monsters of states, practizers of inno­uation, which whether it comes from the humor of fame or from the more dangerous of surprising his countrye, is to be with all diligence suppressed, bad, if they be not too bad, customes beeing more then remedies produ­cing innouations. For in this troubles [Page] the honest minde stands amazed, the seditions that haue long waited for such an opportunitie embrace it, woun­ding the state in many places, whiles her gouernors are either feeble through distraction, or their forces bent ano­ther way, by the commaundement of passion.

Oft time was the Romaine co [...] ­mon wealth sicke of these diseases, fil­dom cured of any if salued of one with such a disauantage, as the curious eye of sedition, found by that how to mo­lest her more dangerously, euen as a-troubled title of land, oft times brings forth more with pleading for the right and shewing the title. So apprehensiue and so percing is the witte of man, that spurred by his wil, there is nothing too difficult that he dares not attempt and perhaps vanquish, such a fury mooues his will, with such subtiltie his rea­son, wherefore since the will backes ill causes sometimes, and that the [Page] reason is corrupted, by the violence of the will, there is no safetie through this intricate many turnings, but the thred of vertue, whose light is the onelye meanes to laye open these iuglers and workers by stealth. To follow natures progressions a little further, by this time hauing laide the foundation of her goodly building, it is time to illu­strate the effects of her excellence, to arriue at some good end of her tra­uailes; nay what is there, but is the creature of her hand? An excellent happinesse, to equall which, though it were a groundlesse ambition for vs to aspire to, yet as like it as we come, is a worthy desire, we are well pleased in the attempting things, but things of this rancke effected, to haue preserued our countrie, to haue giuen her good lawes, to haue left her good examples, are such things to behold, possesseth vs with so ample and eternall ioyes, as not the imagination, the neerest [Page] neighbour to mortalitie, to immortall state, cannot thinke of more diuine ioyes, then is here [...]elte. I wonder not at Licurgus wilfull exile, respecting the occasion, it was an vncertaine and dangerous state, that he left his ne­phew, compared with the fruition of those thoughts that accompanyed his banishment, his constitutions and or­dinances of the Laconian kingdome, in my account farre ouer-valuing, the possession. Of the rest of natures work­manship, though there be none but full of precious liquor, and that there is yet more then a mortall imaginati­on can graspe, with that multitude I am confounded, and dare goe no far­ther then to shut vp what hath passed my pen, there rests but of her this then that I dare venture vpon; the first how liberally she dealeth with the worlde in her effect, how sparingly in laying open her causes, well knoweth she the disposition of man, who spurneth and [Page] dispiseth all those benifits that he vn­derstands the reason of, an excellēt les­son for souerainty to learne, whose knowledge fetched from his gouern­ment rather then person, nourisheth and vphouldes maiesty, they beeing drawne into more beautifull colours, that the eye seeing not, the imagina­tion performeth for her, then those things that are the ordinary obiects of the eye and familiar to our sences. The vphoulding this miraculous frame, resteth in the hands of loue and neede, which doe preserue all her creatures, which two, are the maine pillers vp­houlding her building, by loue her stocke is renewed.

By neede things disagreeing in na­ture, are yet kept from proclayming wars against one another, this need & loue though by the effects they maye [Page] be parted by a distinction, yet is all our loue needy and none that is not inte­rested in our particular care, how a state ought to apply this, is euident, by the whole world, it is determined people cannot liue without gouernours, there is their neede, from his iustice and true execution of his place proceedes their loue; thus from loue and neede, pro­ceedes the preseruation of societies. It is all our states to neede, and a mutu­all supplying each others wants, that makes vs compleat and full, being o­therwise lame & defectiue, this must perswade subiects willingly to con­tribute to the charge of the Prince, and not looke only vpon their own charge, but vpon his expences to defend them from innouations and troubles, this doth nature more plainly teach in the sunnes drawing vp moisture from the earth, which it doth not as needing them, but to giue it againe to the earth more warme and more fatte [Page] then she receiued it, in the same nature must we esteeme Princes impositions, which returne vs them with a great increase, and more riche in substance then they receiued them, thus dooth Nature excellently vphold her world, thus excellently shall these states stand that proceede so impartially and wise­lie as to imitate her, for; ‘Ratio est naturae imiratio.’

Essay. 39. Of Conceipt. To the Lady Withipoll.

EVer your commaundements (ho­nourable Lady) are conceited: for by your commaundement I haue in­quired of conceit, which I finde so like yourselfe, as to resemble it to your selfe, were a true and quicke descrip­tion: but it is in you mixed with iudg­ment, [Page] without which it often goes, though it often goe with it. That it goe without, it makes it differ from you, for you cannot go without iudge­ment, but I must speake no more of you, I must then speake of perfections whose want in the world makes im­perfect iudgements determined com­mendations, and due praises, Poe­trye or Flattery. But either conceite is two sundry things, or conceite is a­bused; for to tuck, & to be stuffed with apish tricks, to weare greene cut vpon Yellow and to be a very meriment to the eyes, I haue heard termed con­ceite: when they are no other but Tailour-like friskes of the sences, which they haue seene, allowed, with­out asking eouncell euen of the com­mon sence, the ware-house common to beasts, and to men. But the worthies Conceite leaues postes betweene the sences, and the fancie, which speedily conuey inttelligence, & are as speedily [Page] answered. It is a fruitfull land sowed, & reaped at an instant; it is a quick work­man which sendeth & receiueth what­soeuer is presented in a time: It is in a word, a fancie well disposed, not onely to her owne faculty, but to the abilities of both neighbors, the cōmon sence & the memory: Her power is doubly set a worke in words, & in deeds. In these she differeth from Iudgement, not in successe, but ready paiment, for where the successe is ill, I call it not cōceit, but rashnesse. Words vttered, turned vpon the vtterer, is conceite, when nimblie like a weapons Artisan, he makes his enemies armes his enemies destructiō. Thus Cicero to the fellowe, who to showe that his eloquence was merce­narie, demaunded of him what hee should giue him: any thing (answered he) but a Tart; for with a Tart it was thought he poisoned his father: this was a prety Brickwall, & bounded the slaunder into his owne bosome. There is no such stillitorie as a quicke braine, [Page] which refines and makes vse of what­soeuer comes within the Pan of his re­ceit. Thus to Hortensius, who told him he vnderstood no ridles, and yet saith he, thou hast a sphinx in thy house: kuowing that Verres, whose cause he defended, had a little before giuen him an Iuory sphinx; his intelligence was good, and his vse good: thus doth wit whip oppositions, & out-run his riuals, & manifest the quicknes of his dexteri­tie. Demosthenes conceit was nothing resty, when being mocked by a theefe called Calchas for his nightwatching, & studying by Lamp-light; Indeed, said he, I know nothing so contrary to thee, as to see light in mēs houses. This talēt is cōmonly giuē youth to play withall, and it is a prety gift to begin with. Na­ture had done well, if therwith she had taught vs the vse, which is (as I thinke) for defēce only, for offensiue, it is to of­fensiue, getting enemies beyond the power of conceite to defend. Besides who knoweth whither not borrowed, [Page] which if it be, he becomes disgracefull, and ill becomming. To be without the right vse is to be naked, not to haue it without study is as vnfruitefull as a Hargabush making a full point be­tweene the firing and the report. I like that fellowe well who desired the hangman not to fasten the rope about his neck, protesting the tickling would moue him too vnmeasurable laughter, I see not how he could haue scarfed his shame more handsomely: his last re­fuge then was to mock the hangman, and the rope, and to dispise life as a runnagate seruant, wee haue another English shot as quick as this▪ one be­ing showed a faire woman, was asked what he would doe if she were in his bed, he answered, I would play the watchman of Callis, either serue my selfe, or hire another in my roome. It was quicke and ingenious, pleasant, or serious, or betweene both, doe euery way handsomely. It reprehendeth vice [Page] as effectually as a sower chiding, or downe-right blowes, and yet is wrap­ped vp finely, is gilt, and lookes sweet. So Archelaus to a pratling Barbor, that asked him how he would be trimmed, he answered, silently: this was for both parts better, then plainely to haue bid him hold his peace. The wantonnesse of aboundance mingles sharpe things with our meates, and when we haue no stomacke, makes a counterfait sto­macke, giuing a sharpenesse like the humor of appetite: Thus is the aboun­daunce of wordes made not distasting, with giuing the apprehensions of the auditories vnexpected acutenes, and meeting with the thrust of a iest, thrusts it backe vpon the iester. In the times of danger, conceite hath a much brauer lustre, it manifests a minde not whole­ly taken vp with paine, or with perill. Thus Pompey aduised by his Phisition to eate Thrushes, and no man hauing any but Lucullus, what (saith he) can­not [Page] Pompey liue without Lucullus Thru­shes. A slaue being racked to accuse Neroes wife of dishonesty, stoutly an­swered, that her part capable of com­mitting that crime, was much more honest then the mouthes of her ene­mies: there was an honorable minde in the body of that flaue: and if euer the Pythagorean Metempsychosis had any colour, the soule of this slaue did surely belong to some worthy perso­nage, which held it first excellencie in despight of Fortune and opinion. Now to the quicknesse of deedes, which seemes to be the Hatte sutable to this Night-cap. This neuer is without ver­tue; Fortitude must be here aswell as wit, otherwise feare will turne wit into feare. Frō Hanniball may be had more of these patterns, then from any one within the compasse of my memory. As his deluding the Romaine armie with Oxen carrying fire-linckes on their heads, whose strangenesse in the [Page] night astonished his enemies, & made waye for him to escape, being before incompassed in a straight. It was then a stratagem of great wit, and is now for all the age worthy of memorie. His attempt to make vse of the slaine Consuls seale of Armes, was not vn­worthy though vnfruitefull. His be­ginning of his warres in Italy, to re­mooue them out of his owne con­fines was an Acte of a iudiciall Se­natour: but this I thinke was put in practise vpon great aduisement: these other no sooner thought vpon, but done, are excellent armours against daunger. Feare is content to haue his throate cut, so he see it not, and at the approache of his enemie turnes his backe, because his backe hath no eyes to beholde danger, he lurkes, and co­uers his bloodlesse face to keepe it warme: but to meete danger halfe way, and in the meane time to deuise to shun, nor to runne from it, becomes [Page] valour and resolution. You know now (Lady) what I thinke of Conceit, and I know that you are able to touche it with a sweeter stroake: may heauinesse presseth it downe with a clacking ra­ther then with a sounding, yet because I am obedient, let me haue the censure not vtterly voide of good.

Essay. 40. Of Counsaile.

COunsailes parte, is Cassandraes parte.

The trap of our first parents, was li­courishnesse: and all our calamities are licourishnesse, not induring whole­somnesse without sweetnesse. All sen­ces haue taste, and sences make all things distasting, that meete not the [Page] Taste with a present satisfaction and sweetenesse. Aduice fitteth friend to friend: counsaile counsailours to states, the first priuate, the other publike both vnhappy since cōmonly Prophets with our profit. Chauce chalegeth vnpreme­ditated actions; what more tirannous? since it is seldome with safety: if with safety, the cause hers, not ours. Then must we admit counsaile, but shall we admit her without hearing? shall wee heare, & not belieue? or belieuing, not follow? we had better not haue gone thus farre, then to haue turned againe: but reason inforceth our voyage, then let constancie continue it: where rea­son is at the beginning, and resolution in the midst, praise standes with the crowne of victory at the conclusion, counsell then vphouldes states, and to counsaile, and be counsailed, fittes ā statesman. Cottages may bee built without modells, not pallaces: the Inhabiters of Cottages neede no [Page] [...] [Page] [...] [Page] long reuoluing their intendmentes▪ but the other that cānot call back the stone cast, ought by praemeditation to diuine of the resting place. The first determi­natiō of a man meete to be a statesman should be (as I thinke) not to sue▪ nor to intrude himselfe in to imployment: we should say as M. Cato said for not erec­ting his statue: Malo, [...]quit, queri cur [...]tatus mihi nulla posita si [...], quam cur su. To haue the ability is sufficient: to thirst after the other cānot be without either an itching of fame, or thirst of couetous­nes, both turning their inquisito [...] into vice but both supporters of his state, if seeking him. It is true our coūtry seekes onely profit, and giues praise to the cause of her profit, but it is due after the haruest, neither at the sowing, nor reaping. Vertuous experiece can relate, that had is to be returned to our coun­try, obtained reputation giuing that strength to the obtainer not for his owne particuler, but that he may haue the more force to attempt, and execute [Page] the dissignes of his country. Reputati­on, wealth, wisedome▪ strength, must be imployed as Gerion did his many lims, to be at the direction of his minde, so these blessing to serue, and obey the common wealth, but called. As natural Philosophy commaundes Morall to search al before they come in her sight, and to clense them of all the spots, and deformities of licentious affectiōs, leaft their corruption corrupt the purity, & profoundnes of her knowledge: so an admitted common wealthes man must turne all his affections to aduaunce the state, he may loue a friend, cherish his children, with duety honor his parents, whē these appeare in his priuate cōmon wealth: but to assist, or prefer thē with­out the approbatiō of iustice against his country, is intollerable, what doth this particuler, but breed a dispense? what is the death of a state, but this dispersion? If you do it, why not he, & so they? who measure equally measures to himselfe, [Page] and others equally: as Gods to Pi [...] Vtilissim [...] [...] brenissimus, b [...]ar [...]m [...] l [...]umque [...]eru [...] delectus) eogitare gold aut riolueris sub also Principe, ade vol [...]ie, Our country must haue all▪ the other priuate respected must bee weighed downe by this generall. Na [...] [...] [...]eos, sed [...]ame plus Patriam, saith one. I remember not the colours of a Ro­maine History, but the body of it I hould. It was a sonne beeing consull, made his Father (according to the custome) appeare before him to de­clare, that he had not beene vnprofi­table to his country, hee came accom­panied, all the rest dismounted assoone as they came in the Consuls presence, his Father did not, hee forced him, for which his father blessed, and Ris­sed him hee was a Father worthy of such a sonne, and they both wor­thy of their countrey. Pericles medi­tation becomes a Iudiciall statesman Aoerce Pericles Am [...], Libe [...]is [Page] Imperas [...] Graecis imperas▪ Ciuibus Atheniensibus Imperas [...]. Sutes from friendes should be hard like strangers, if they preiudice the common wealth: Ones gaine may be a generall losse, which is vnequall, and vniust. Epami­nondas answere to P [...]lopidas vpon such a sute became Epaminondas, Huius mo­di beneficia Pelopida Scortis, non Duci­bus conuenit vt praestentur. As for this, so for the contrary of this. Nullus Ciuis est numerandies bostis. Hatred in generall is to be redeemed as the mad-dog of humanitie, It lookes as ill fauoredly as the ragges, and yet his deedes are more furious, and more daungerous. Innumerable are the examples of States, and Citties burnt to Ashes, and obliuion by these particuler Chimneyes, by Marius and Sylla, the Romaines state lost her sturrops; by Caesar, and Pompey was cast out of the Saddle. Heere factions (the Plaguesores of a [Page] common wealth haue their originall, which if they kill not, yet at the best are so ill, as to make all the fu [...]our [...] gathered about this infection to feede the infection, and to runne out their force at one head. It was numbered among Scipioes capitall crimes his not inuiting his College Mum [...]us to the feast he made at his dedication of the Temple of Hercules: and rightly, for though our weaknesse cannot re­straine this naturall vnnaturall affecti­on, yet should it be so limmed, as to spend the whole force priuately, and in publike matters to thinke onely of louing, and labouring for our coun­trey.

The daunger of letting in one of these affections (though the distur­baunce of all often happens by this one) is not all, for that opens the gate of others: affection lets in parti­allitie, Partiallity procures hate, Hate murther; the conscience thus stained [Page] feeles not other spottes, and then dis­daine, and pride, and couetousnesse are accounted veniall, and petty­trespasses.

This couetousnesse made Liturgus Yron money of little value, and of great bignesse, this couetousnes brings a popular famine, and priuate surfet, this spunge sucketh dry the commerce of societies, from whence haue po­pular mutinies receiued either coulour or trueth, but from the oppression of the mighty? life is giuen by the gi­uer of life to none so vnequally, as it shall bee a paine to liue: ney­ther ritches to any, by them to sup­presse, and make slaues of their countrymen who seeth vnpartially the life of bleare-eyde misery alrea­dye possessed of more then his life is able to mannage, sinking life, a shippe ouer-ballasted in the middest of the Ocean, and yet drye and thirstie, and would not with the [Page] Poet ouer burthened, with a few ta­lente [...] cast away his disquietnesse, and shame? Themistacles Actions makes a braue distinction betweene a man in­nobled by the imployment of a great place and a life dedicated to it selfe▪ such a one was with him, when pas­sing by the winde fall of a great bicke­ring, he espied a dead body richly a­dorned he passed by, but called to his companion▪ Tolle haec inquit, non eni [...] tu, Themistacles es: He could not stoope so lowe, as to gather gold out of bloud and durt: but he stoopes lower that pluckes it from the liuing: these carcases had no neede, yet Themis­tacles refrained for his owne sake, be­cause he was Themistacles, but from the liuing, it is a double Theft, rob­bing himselfe of honour, the other of the meanes of life. With couetousnesse gooth pride, and meltes couetous­nesse, hee drawes his vnmeasurable store, into a meditation of his store [Page] and d [...]inkesl [...] which digested; turnes all into pride, fully humour which loues admiration and procures laughter, lookes in the glasse for beauties, and in the meane time is collied on the backe with scoffes and reproches. It is no where safe, for it aboue decision, it is surprised by secret conspiracies. What daunger is there to which this affection is not subiect? If hee be a Prince, it mines the loue of his peo­ple, and their feare onely is left, which spurred by pride, turnes into despera­tion, and endes with the life of eyther Prince or subiects. If he be a States­man, he drawes the power both of Prince and subiect vpon him, making the Prince iealous, the subiects cruell. If it bee a free state, (it resembled) tyranny, and is most hatefull, P [...]rsin Cu [...]itae [...]e parentium quam Imperantium [...] amplior est) he cannot liue. Generally for all those things, which looking pleasinglie vpon vs may procure pride? [Page] let vs allaye it with thinking of [...] errours and our infirmities, which [...] all mortall men fa [...]e surpasse the number of his good deedes. If com­mendations follow vs, let vs say like Pubon that killed [...], D [...]us hoc, m [...] ­ [...]s [...]ue m [...]a per perpetruate. These beaten backe, irmite their contraries, and as these ouerwhelme their possessour with daungers and reproches: so doe these vertues or the contrary crowne their intertainer with safety and praise. Who vndertakes to stere in the Barke of gouernment, must not end with the theoricall part of knowledge, but must continually imploy himselfe in shun­ning or repairing the ruines or threat­nings of rockes and tempestes, and showldes.

If outwarde inuasions busie not a States-man, the diseases of peace will [Page] imploye him: euery waye must his fight bee cast, euery waye must his thoughts trauaile in discoueries, and if there be a time of rest, it must not be of idlenesse, for his precepts to his countrymen must prohibite that, and to incline to actions by himselfe, thought vnlawfull, slaunders his go­uernment with weakenesse and fol­lye.

Neque Poeta bonus est, qui prater nu­meros canit, neque qui, praeter leges indul­ges, bonus Magisttalus. So must all his actions be gouerned, that his ex­ample may bee a lining lawe, and those dead ones speake no more then he performeth.

Hee must moderate all his actions, and drawe euen his lightest affaires into a lawfull circular course. [...] non tantum dictorum publicè, & factoris ab iis, qui rem publicam gerunt, reposo [...] ­tur rationes, verū, etiū cana corum, cubal [...], [Page] [...]pti [...]e, ludicra, & s [...]rig Acti [...]. When happinesse and a freedome of minde is it to be able with the Tribune Drusus, whose house partly laye open to the sight of his neighbours, when being offered by a workman for fiue Talents to haue it closed, he offered ten to haue it laide open to the view of all eyes, that the worlde might see his whole life, & that vice might be driuen from that flattery to thinke others doe as ill, but not knowne, because concealed. Thus counsaile saith to me, and I be­leeue her, thinking (though with the mist of knowledge vnexperienced) that shee speakes truly. That I am a man, I am bound to doe something; that a Christian, some thing not ill: so I thinke of this, in respect of my pur­pose, not in my purposes performance. It is called madnesse to talke to ones selfe, and meditation goeth with so fainte a presse in my braine, that it is soone wiped out. I write therefore to [Page] my selfe, and my selfe proffites by my writing: If a strange eye carryes it to a strangers iudgement, and he proffits not by it, I am not sorry nor displeased, for I meant it onely to my selfe.

Essay. 41. Of Sorrowe.

THe most acceptable blessing that euer I had, was a Sonne, in whose time of growing meete to see the worlde, I examined often how to fit my selfe for his approache. I durst not but smile, and seeme ioyfull, for feare of a Mid-wifes censure, with whome Dame Nature beeing also a Gossip, conspired to make me ioyfull: I was indeed; but yet reason taught me, that extremities tosse the life of man in vn­certainties, and ioye immoderately swallowed, surfets, & the surfet turnes into sorrowe. Thus haue I determined [Page] of all things here, being halfe a [...] ­rbonia concerning these Terrene bu­sinesse, in my opinion holding opini­on the mother of ioye and fortune. What is mortall, is mutable, and our ioyes here, often yeelde their place to sorrow, and sorrow to ioy.

Why then doe we determine these pricelesse things, at so inesti [...] a rate as to disturbe the whole life, and crase the body for these mutabi­lities? how farre doth a farmers polli­cie exceede all other politikes? what doth he with a farme that he holdes from yeare to yeare, but make his vse of it, and driue it? what doth he posses­sing one but for a fewe yeares but the same? the fee-simple, or many liues; shal perswade him to build, & to hand­some it, and husband it, otherwise hee conuerts it to a present proffit, and prepares to be gone tomorrowe. It is strange to obserue the wisedome of [Page] man, how much good he knowes, and how basely he vseth it: there is hardly a creature borne that is sensible, but [...] full of principles able to vphold his life in a good & safe estate, did he not [...] that naked, and apply them to baser vses, as taking care for cuffes, & for go­ing wool-ward. Who loues colours [...] buyes them, but inquires if they will hold? and that they will he takes for their best quallity, but himselfe neuer blameth, nor priseth himselfe the lesse, though he changeth & looseth colour and qualitie in euery instant. He that neuer knew Tailours measure, & caries his body about for a paterne, yet he wil not buy vntil he hath fitted himselfe, & examined the stuffes continuance yet he will intertaine giddy affections, buy them, and weare them, though neither fit, nor lasting. Maisters crie out on their seruants if they be idle, and call them vnprofitable: but maisters are bound in straighter bands to themselues and to their countrey, & yet to both they are [Page] content to be idle and vnprofitable. Thus in all liues, and in all men, may be found precepts able to advise them, but they wilfully, or negligently [...] the right applicatiō [...] this we [...]ght to sorrow, but we abuse sorrow, and [...]ue her for that is nothing worthe. Who knows not our naked beginning voice euen of strength and reason to d [...]end [...] na [...] [...] time contend vs with reason, and shall wee ill the strength of that lunl [...] for mo [...] [...]albo [...]basorts? what is this bar to be more vnsensible, then before we had sence? I am sure man would la [...]as an [...]e [...]re, that, his companions of the earth should excell him in immortali­tie, his richest blessing are they made fit do accompany his [...]ns [...]ofinesse, & will he yet be sorrowfull and angrie this passeth the way wardnesse of chil­dren. Trees haue then spring, and fall, yet liue in both, without the torment of vnreasonable ioy; or sorrowe each [Page] elementary substance suffers a dissolu­tion, and willingly obeyes nature, she hauing giuen them a secret instinct to obey their creator, and euen of their owne accord they hasten out to let o­thers in, and are carefull to vpholde the workemanship of her miraculous frame. Why then are we crownd with reason, and are excelled by the reason­lesse creatures? haue wee the Armour of hope to defend vs from dispaire, the stillitory of reasonable discourse shew­ing vs both the dregs & Quintessence of all things? & in spight of these assis­tances, & oddes, shall we be ouercome by beastes and trees, and stones?

If there be no remedy let vs thus ap­pease our bewaylings, and sorrowes, but rather if I could, I would withstand this effemiuate opinion, with a shield hammered out of resolution. If it bee my onely desteny to bee poore, and [Page] deformed, can I repeale the decree of the fates with teares? No, no more then trees in Autumne recall the spring with shedding their leaues: if it be the worke of chaunce, I will ouercome chaunce with immoueable embrasing her enmity. Sertorius vsed Fortune brauely in the losse of his eye: others, saith he, leaue their markes & crownes of glory at home for loosing, but I haue mine still on, I weare it, it wi­thers not, I cannot loose it: who likes not this better then bewailings, and teares, he hath vntuned eares, and bleare eyes. I doe not thinke but For­tune wished shee had rather tryed to melt him with smiles, and dandlings, then to haue hardened him with her frownes. Thus may we conuert those things which wee call mishaps into blessings, pulling the sting out of For­tunes taile, and inforcing her to be our seruant. If she powre wealth, and ho­nour, let vs vse them to vphold our ho­nour, [Page] and profit our countrie; but if she kick, nettle her againe with despising her power, making the raine of her af­flictions washe the secret spots of our soule, and outwardly be a soyle to our patience and constancie. Man, if you will end there, excels not other crea­tures, but mans preheminencie is gran­ted him for his discretion, which abu­sed & defaced by the vse, his euidence gone, his iurisdiction is gone, and his definition must be, a creature with two legges made long-wayes. Man know­eth he is mortall, & that what he hath; is transitorie: he is vnha [...]py that is not armed against the turnings of the world, with the experience of the tur­nings of the world.

If he know this, and will weepe, is he not worthy to haue another stand by [Page] and laugh at him? whither can know­ledge go but hither? where is she pro­fitable but here? Hee that reades to speake, ends with the commendations of an olde wiues tale: he that reades to applye his reading to his owne life, is wise: he poureth oyle into the lamp that will giue him light, the other [...] it without supplying it, Anoxa­goras made good vse of his Philoso­phie, when his sonnes death assaulted him, Scieba [...] [...] alem me genuissa f [...]ū. To know himselfe, and the appurte­nances to himselfe is the vse of know­ledge, and this knowledge vnmaskes his eies, & shews him wonders in him­self, he becomes in this like vnto God.

To know himselfe, is to know before hand what may happen to himselfe, so shall he in despight of the apparitions of the worlde, stand vnmoueable: so shall he not be cosined by expectation: [Page] so shall he not be seduced to thinke her ouerthrow his, but catch the Poets de­scription and crowne himselfe with it;

This life is like a continuall battaile, and yet in battailes men are prepared better to indure what may happen: the losse of a friend there, is not his life, but of honour, this is accounted losse, and lamented, not that: He that dyes in a ranke strikes not his next neighbour with terrour, nor dooth he thinke death calles him, though he be at his elbow, an ouerthrow they seeke to recouer by ouerthrowing, not la­menting, and brauely they make re­sistance and resolution supplye the place of all other affections. Thus I thinke euery morning, I see no sooner day, but I thinke that light will disco­uer some assault, and with the Poet; ‘Mando a cantar la matiulina tromba.’

Essay. 42. Of Solitarinesse and Company.

HOw true a principle of vertue is it, that crossing our appetite is the way of vertue? Appetite is the childe of the sences, and sencelesse when hee vseth but his parents counsaile: how true a testimonie is this Axiome of our vile inclinations, when it needes not the exception of good desires, for all our desires ate naught. Thus hath soli­tarinesse fallen into knowledge, be­cause speach and reason loue trafficke and exercise, the former of which is vnecchoed without company, the last naked, for reason is made forcible by exercise. Societies sweeten the bitter­nesse of life, for life without societie is Viuere, non bene viuere: the obiection of calamities attending it as well as happinesse, is resisted by the whole vn­derstanding [Page] of man, fo [...] what knowes he that is not answered with a contra­rie? that excellent supernaturall bles­sing of man, his Creator, his God, hath a contrary, the cursse, the pitche of his extreame danger, & perill: lower, what goodnesse is without temptations? what happinesse not possible to bee transformed to her contrary? who then seekes shelter in a caue, outwardly im­balmeth his malady which cures, Phi­sick saith he, doth but leasurely cure, it delaies, not ends his wars, for he caries with him a body, which like childrens fancies will wheresoeuer find sportes, and delights. The life of contemplati­on at once bearing the functions, and pleasures of the body, makes the body striue for imployment, helpes not that it is wholy incompassed, for it makes it the more furious, as when one dis­senting elemēt imbraceth another, the stricter his kindnes, the more violēt the others rage. Thus holinesse sequestred, [Page] sequestring the bodyes exercise, makes it flie to the meditation of this life, will be glorious, & admirable in the world. He must thinke, and those thoughts come through his body, and there are polluted with vaine-glory, or hipocri­sie, or some other such malady incident to this retired course. If from the scorne of the worlde, or the being scorned by the worlde, if from the despaire of not being greatest, we can feede vpon no­thing but extremities, and therefore will be least: if from losses, or a feare of loosing, we are not eased of the cares and danger of the world▪ but rather in­grosse a map of her miseries, and differ from the other life onely in desperati­on: for we steale the deuouring mon­sters of dispaire, selfe-loue, disdaine, & scorne, into a corner, and there sacrifice ourselues vnto their insatiate appetites, past danger, for hope here cannot hope of rescue, vnknowne diseases beeing diseases vncurable. For secular fortunes [Page] this cloystered life is not tollerable, it resists reason and goodnesse, which both ioyne in guiding vs to societie, & the common good, which hath neede of the worst of vs, euen of those whose handes are their best partes: for execu­tion sets more a worke then direction. There is a last time of life, when decre­pitnesse kills experience, and when age hath not onely set vp his markes of triumph, of wrinkles, and gray haires, but playes the Prologue of death, and drawes the Curtaine not onely before our sences, but euen before meditatiō; It is then time to giue that life leaue to thinke onely of death, and to pre­pare for his last iourney. Thus haue many kings wilfully deposed them­selues, for which power, & which per­formance, I thinke they were more bound to God, then for making them kings. But a life in the strēgth of minde and body, commits sacriledge to se­quester it selfe from the world, for he [Page] for his country is his mother) In a word he declines to his worst part, for beastes liue so, and leaues the imitation of his diuinest father, whose greatnesse is goodnesse, and whose goodnesse is ex­cellent, because stretching the armes of his goodnesse to the imbracing of all man kinde. Shall Trees become e­quall to men? becomming thus, they become equall: Trees haue for their obiect, themselues, themselues hath so­litarinesse: can the blessing of humane soules looke higher and worthier, and shall they crop themselues lower, and match equally those, ouer whom they haue superiority? nobility vseth meane fortunes for seruants, not companions, if it doe, it doth basely: what doe these then that depriue themselues of great­nes to become bare? our preaciousnes is reason, reasons seruant is speech, which is the messenger of reason, and reasons meditation: these are the cement of societies, to beare these with solitarines is to contend with nature for wisdome [Page] who hath abilities, and vseth thē not, as some creatures strength, others hornes what recken we them but brutish, and reasonles? But man hath more excellēt ornamētes, & the vse of them is society, and company, which he must imbrace, it being impious to giue an example of leauing the word desolate. He must, so must he eate, and f [...]om eating come surffers as wel as health, from company corruption, as well as purity: the neigh­bourhood of these poysons to these wholsome things I should lamēt, were not reason giuen vs to cut them a sun­der, and to choose wisely: I do not in this choyce compell, or wish men to couet thronges or multitudes, to hunt dry-foote after feasts, and assemblies, such are to be eschewed, their very smel & noise without their familiarity, being daungerous, and offensiue. I thinke Senecaes sentence of his neuer com­ming among men, but he went home a worse man then when he came out, leueld at these flockes. But to make [Page] his choice of company, to vse speech with thē able to assure himselfe, & bet­ter them (for as Faces differ, so tem­peratures, and from their temperatures comes variety of reasons) becomes wisedom. Euery head begets thoughts indifferent, euen our Mechanick Trades, as well as Artes witnesse it, for the lightes of these came not from one lampe: our proportions, & casts are to little to comprehend the vniuersall knowledge of things: therfore one helpes another with the conference of one another: minds traffick like bodies, a Hat for a Ruffe, the Shoomaker with the Tailour. To become wife, confe­rence is the meanes, to become tempe­rate, example: we must call out men ex­pert in these, and accompany them: we are not as the Bee, the sweetenesse of whose nature makes things of another nature sweete: alas, no: It must be good we receiue, and then perhaps we will make it better, but if ill, we make it [Page] worse. To be knowne much, to be sa­luted much, to be in presses much is not the way of wisedome Clamours, and salutations distract vs: our sences re­ceiue singly, we heare not two tales at once, at once we see but one thing, the Braine ioynes, and dilates after. Thus must we vse company for conference, and conference to be inriched by sel­dome happens among multitudes. Ex­cept in an Army, and a counsell cham­ber, I would proportion my nūber; not aboue fiue: in these before recited where there are most, ther are blowes where fewest, wisdom I am not much blowne, nor stirred with the vulgar o­pinion, and yet I finde an aptnes in my selfe, to eschew their opinion. If I were so great as Alexander, to prohibite e­uery man but Lisippus to proportion mee, it were well then to go so naked, as to be commonly known and consu­red: for did none but the skilfull deter­mine me, I should be sure their repre­hension [Page] were trueth, and I would a­mend, or prosecute accordingly [...] but when he that stoopes worse well taxe my leaning forward, and dwarfes de­ride them that are not tall, whats bet­ter then to auoyde comming with­in their reach, by priuatenesse? But this leanes to affection, so much priuatnesse is good, as betters an abilitie to be­come publike. I should not know the Sunne from a petty starre, did he not warme me, and light me, nor finde [...] distinction betweene worthinesse, and basenesse, did not worthinesse like the Sunne direct basenesse, and spreade it selfe to comfort, and giue life to the darkenesse of ignoraunce. Our eye giues the Sunne circumference but the circle of a head, and our heads circum­ference differs not inuch, in their qual­lities neere a kin: for as the one lightēs the steps, the other doth the actiōs. The Sunne showes vs where to step, the head wherfore: with their littlenes they [Page] commaund the most immense, and monstruous things, with their little­nesse assist the mightiest, & end so ex­cellently as to haue a care of the com­mon good: the Sun not carrying his Lanthorne for himselfe but for the world, the head not like a limme, or a Sence tending onely that, but the whole bodyes preseruation is his care. How excellent would the Emperour Titus haue beene, had hee beene so blessed as to haue knowne diuinitie, that in his naturall inclination, and Morrall vnderstanding suffered no [...] time to slide away without the me­mory of some good deedes, not a daye? how rigorously do these dayes of his, looke vppon our dayes where at the very last day to dispose some thinges to a good vse is wondered at, but company was my Argu­ment, not whether the vse of com­pany, and all thinges else shoulde tend. So well haue Tailours handled [Page] themselues, as we will draw from them the censure of men, by his clothes we thinke to make a cōiecture come neare trueth, if not by them by his compani­ons vndoubtedly we may, for

He dyed not long since, that held it an excellent testimony of wisedome to keep no vnprofitable seruant, coun­ting them vnprofitable that eate with­out bringing in, it paide his opinion ritchly, for he dyed rich, If this proue so well, and prouing well, ought to bee constantly maintained, how respectiue ought we to be of our companions? the former were but the ministers of of our bodies, but these conuerse with our mindes, vpon whome by the helpe of custome they cast either gra­ [...]es, or deformities. They must be then able to batter vs: we make choyce of [Page] our dwelling places by the sweetnes of the Aire, which if ill, we suck in dis­eases: so if our company ill, vices, and imperfections. Those that we continue with, I would haue firme, and good, honest, and of vnderstanding, for if their water be a standing poole with­out a spring, they may be drunke dry▪ and then they are Idle, and vnprofi­table. But for others, let them bring what they will with them, it is no matter, somtime to see ill, is not with­out vse (for ill is goodnesse folly:) I know behauiour by seeing clownes mocke behauiour: I know folly by wisedome, and wisedome by folly, as small drinke, by strong, strong by small. Among these, vse the seamans plummet, sound them, see where their best lies, and follow that argument: it is good for both partes, for euery man loues to talke in his own element and his talking there yeelds most profit to the hearer. I would heare [Page] speake no more then would bring on speache, for silence among strangers is safe besides. Obseruation loues not to speake, but to heare, and from obser­uation, comes experience, and wisdom. To the company and time wee must lend respect, for high fortunes loue not to be asked questions by inferiours, but to heare: If content, it is where the in­terrogatories may pull out threds of their owne praises. Age loues it well, disburthening the memorie of times past:

Where wisdome holdes out with age, and memory hath not vnthriftily spent her commings in vpon time, the conuersation of age is the wisest booke: of these I haue neuer in my life seene any comparable to one, for com­monly they are obstinate and morose, [Page] and their discourse is mingled with as much bad, as good; but contrary is this, hauing the experience & the wisdome of 80. yeares and vpward, and yet a bo­dy more healthfull then many of halfe his yeares, so wise, and so temperate; so able, and so willing to instruct his friends, that I neuer am with him, but I come from him stronger in vnder­standing, then when I went, so doth his aduise moderate my youth, his knowledge melt my ignorance, end­ing shortly, of him I may truly say;

To proffit by company must come from our selues: our questions is the fire which drawes out eyther the quintessence, or the dregges of things. Who with a Trauailer askes what [Page] sporte is most vsed in forraigne coun­tries, whether Hawking, or Hunting, Baloone, or Tennis, pulle but more corruption vpon himselfe.

Who with an Ambassadour, talketh ra­ther of their women, & their attire, thē of their natures, force, reuenewes, mar­chandise, & such like, what is his gaine but the marke of an ideot? what his knowledge, but Tailour-like, & light? Alexander in his childhood, entertay­ning the Persian Ambassadours, may instruct the ripest yeeres, at that time his questions tended to the inuading, and conquering the world: for he as­ked of their hauens, their passages, and distances betweene place, and place, of the power of their king, of his con­uersation with his friendes, and his e­nemies: out of this more certainely, then for the managing of Bucephalus might his father haue prophecied, that [Page] the confines of macedon were to nar­row for him. Me thinks this childhood of Alexanders withstandeth the right of fortune to any of his enterprises: for he beganne with wisedome, and was worthy to end with honour. She hath to doe rather with people that haue successe in their actions, without being able to produce causes deseruing it, like starte vp gentlemen, gentlemen without a pedigree: but for his cōquests, his infancie shewed, hee would de­ceiue them, beginning to speake, and to speake wisely almost at an instant. The vse of things makes things worth the vse, and company by the vse is an excellent instructour, and solitarines moderatly taken, makes vs fit for com­pany; our whole life is a warfare, for al things haue cōtraries, though in appa­rence they oftē looke alike. Goodnes, and good vses come to vs hardly, for vice chalengeth vs as aunciently hers, and resistes vertue with perswasi­ons, [Page] and pleasures, to whome if thou yeeldest;

But resisting, and resisting vanqui­shing, what honour, or rewarde is there, that is not ours? If I should speake onely of wisedome, were it not well? but it shall haue more, the addition of diuine wisedome; of a wisedome able to gather the best fruites of the worlde, without bee­ing corrupted by the world: of a wis­dome defending the conscience from woundes and spottes: of a wisdome before whome vanitie shall vanishe, and the apparitions of Pompe, and glittering Pride, shall bee seene in their right natures ridiculous, and ab­hominable: of a wisedome that bee­ing a Riuer belonging to the Ocean of wisedome, to that Ocean shall a­gaine yeelde her streames: she shall yeelde with ioye, not with feare, but [Page] a louing feare, and hauing performed the circle of nature, shall rest in the Center of eternall perfection.

Essay. 43. Of Vanitie.

IT troubles mee not to see the light professions of Dauncers and Tum­blers cast their behauiours & bodies in­to vnused formes, nor to heare tooth-drawers, or Rat-catchers, sweare themselues the best in the worlde in their professions: I knewe this be­fore, vpon the sight of his Banner I knew him guilty, and it is not amisse: when nature made mindes conforma­ble to their fortunes, shee was about none of the least, nor worst of her mis­teries. But nobility, and professours of noble actions, how crooked and de­formed make they their mindes, with [Page] rancking with these bond men of their sences? I know we are the sonnes of a fallen father, but mercy hath helped vs vp againe, and though we be original­lie sinfull, we may be eternally happy: we need not still buy Apples, we payed too dearely already for that purchase. But as a drunken night makes a mistie morning; so are our knowledges still taking one thing for another, and in­quiring what will looke faire, not what will last. Can we see, and yet do we not see, that vanity is nothing but like a single guilt, which a shower transfor­meth to durt or rust? making shift [...]like dauncers, that deuise changes in their daunces, calling them by another name, because the singles or the dou­bles differ. Vanity in factions in the ve­ry Index of vanity, for all that she doth, is but with her rotten body to put on a new forme. I account them more daungerously ill that are drunke with vanitie, then those with wine: for a [Page] morning makes one himselfe, but the other is hardly ransomed with yeares, but is euer staggering, and falling, ey­ther in his words, cloathes, or actions. Heere am I fallen into a bottomlesse pit, indeed past eyther the nature of an Essay, or my writing, which agree in a short touching of things, rather then in an histories constancie, I baite rather then dwell in thē; but this anatomized will make Folio volumes looke lesse then Primmers. Pull man from vanity, and he is like Birdes that are nothing but Feathers. The incomprehensible soule of Heauen, of whom we are but drops, yet that we came from him, we hold that preciousnesse, that sodainely our mindes can drawe the picture of the bodyes passages, and so fruitefully as to runne diuision vpon it: then is it possible to ouertake vanitie spurred by the minde, since horse and rider runne so fast, so quicke, and so farre? A little though I wil follow it to the descrying [Page] these three, wordes, clothes, and acti­ons, the depth of which I would be loth to bee able to reach, for I should then be accessary to too much vanity. Some I haue, which beeing a kin to more, bringes me acquainted with more. I haue tasted of more then I haue digested: for at twenty yeares old, I vomited a great deale that I drunke at 19. and some new I haue, of which this Essay is part.

Of wordes first: for it is one of the first things we do, they are but the Lac­kies of reason of which, to send more then will performe the busines is su­perfluous, me thinkes, an esse videatur at the close of a period, is as nice as a Tumbler ending his trickes with a caper: and Tullies Venit, imo in senatum venit, moues me no more against Cati­line then the first Venit. Me thinkes, this same rethorick the child of words, is but as a pickled Herring to bring on drinke, for his diuisions and repeti­tions [Page] are for nothing but to bring his memory acquainted with his tongue, and to make three works of one. How shall a man hope to come to an end of their workes, when he cannot with two breathes saile through a Period, and is sometimes grauelled in a Parenthesis? I wonder how Cicero got the people of Rome tyed so fast to his tongue, for which his matter, no better then his stile, hee shoulde not perswade mee to looke vpon him? I make as great difference betweene Tacitus, Senecaes stile, and his, as musitions betweene Trenchmore, and and Lachrymae. Me thinkes the braine should daunce a Iigge at the hearing a Tullian sound, and sit in counsaile when it heares the other.

But his matter is substantiall, and honest, and though hee bee betrayed among Pedauntes, and Boyes (which hee may thanke his Style for) yet hee is meeter for [Page] greater persons, and sounder iudge­ments. But eloquence (as we take elo­quence) it is of no vse, but among such eares as call a Bag-pipe musick, it fittes them, and among them must be vsed; but among wisemen, it is to distrust their vnderstandings, loosing time in repetitions, and Tautologies. The ver­tue of things is not in their bignesse, but quality, and so of reason which wrapped in a fewe words hath the best tang. Those which are subiect to this prodigalitie, they should helpe them­selues, as stutterers, by learning to sing, so these by making verses, whose num­ber tyes vp wordes and giues reason li­bertie, carrying reason leuell to the soule, and giuing a reporte out of the mouth, as Gun-powder from Ordi­nance. This disease of wordes let in by Cicero, was not long after letten out: for Augustus following almost in the furie of the shower, was faine to arme himselfe with writing all he meant to [Page] speake, seriously, euen his speaches to his wife, which was painfull and dan­gerous: for if the women had beene ledde by his example, the worlde sure at this day had beene inhabited by no­thing but papers: yet he durst not doe otherwise, least Plus, minusue loqueretur ex tempore, which cannot choose but happen to a tongue that runnes proud after wordes. But they are worse that send messengers without an errand, that speake, and yet gelde their speach of meaning, like a foulded sheete of paper without any infoulding. Thus I haue heard speach cast out of a mouth worse then ridles, which neither spea­ker nor hearer could interpret. In the same file are Prouerb-mongers, whose throates are worne like roade-wayes, with little saide is soone amended: It is no halting before a Criple, and such like: when I heare one of these I looke for his drye nursse, for from her armes he plucked this language. I haue liked [Page] my patience as much for inducing these trialls, as for any of her suffe­ringes: for what can be more contra­ry to tunable eares, then to heare this most excellent instrument abused, and to heare ignoraunce clap the aire with his breath? his lippes opening like a purse without money, and his tonge like a Fencer before a Pageaunt stir­ring, not striking: of whom when all is finished may be said.

The tongue is the key of the mind, the minde the casket, holding all our ritches to discouer which ordinarily, is to make another key besides his owne to commaunde your owne, which makes yours▪ anothers. To dis­couer bright things so often, as may bee called wearing them, soiles them: but to discouer all you haue, and that all shall proue nothing, is the most miserable: so doth the mediocritye [Page] betweene too much speach, and si­lence fit both wise-men, and fooles, for the ones ware is to good, the o­thers to bad.

Mee thinkes, this same vanity of clothes hath done vertue wrong, for wee discry great men as much by their clothes, as actions, which is ve­ry improper: for we allow not houses by their plaistering, and gaynesse, but by their roomes, and conueni­ency. Hath it not also weakened our best force, and made vs call in out­ward helpes? for not of our heads, but of our Tailours wee aske aide, where power languisheth with entertaining these baudes of pleasure, seditiō comes in, for when pouerty findes her endles labours end with powring her gaines into excesse, mutinie counsailes want against this too much plen­ty: ‘Thus to these miserable ones speakes a seditious fellow in the Flo­rentine state, strip vs all naked (saith he) [Page] and you shall perceiue no difference, cloathe vs with their garments, & thē with ours, & doubtlesse we shall looke like noblemen, they looke like vassalls, for it is onely pouerty, and riches that makes the disparity beweene vs.’ It is the lustre of greatnesse, & yet the most daungerous: daungerous, for it feedes enuy, daungerous, for it makes vs vn­apt for any other estate, to which mor­talitie being ouer subiect should neuer be vnfit to entertaine it. Cleopatrats miserie looked much more defor­med, because mens memoryes could ioyne her present state, to the state she put vpon her when she would resem­ble the Goddesse Isis: it is like a face vsed to looke through a ruffe, whē put in a falling band lookes as if looking through a halter. But this is a com­mon curse vpon greatnesse, that it can nothing so well defend it selfe from misfortune, as misfortune from fortunate: to become great of little [Page] indures much better, then to become little of great. I cannot thinke it a law­full excuse, to say, the minde stil aimes vpward: no, the minde of vertue is still it selfe, and is it selfe, let fortunes Arithmeticke be either adding, or sub­stracting: shee can ioyne no more earth to her then the body, and rather would she be rid of that, then receiue more. It is disputable, whether these robes of greatnesse should at all bee allowed, but to be in them alwayes, without question is disallowed. There are some that can see, and not iudge, know these, it is necessary for greatnes to show them somewhat which they may vnderstand. Now for the light changes of attire, me thinkes they goe like a singing catch, some are begin­ning when others are ending, others in the middest when another begins againe. Let another bee absent from this mint, and without the discipline of a Tailour but a few monthes, and at his [Page] next appearance his friends shall not knowe whether hee bee a man, or a Ghoast of times past, or a spirite mo­uing a Westminster Statue. The mo­ney-maisters haue not ingrossed all vanitye, though they haue money, for these people haue a chaunge where to bee out of fashion is to be banquerupt, and as the ones billes are protested, so the others discretion. This is not to haue a head, but a hat buttond vp on the side: It is no mat­ter what soule, so a body in fashion, of which though I doe despise it e­nough, yet I wishe it no other mis­chiefe then the Painters Shoppe, where a picture of seauen yeares since, lookes more like an Anticke Dauncer, than a man. But thus shall I be, if I speake more of them, for I drawe them, and Time drawes them out of fashion, and they if I laye any more holde on them, drawe me.

But now the motions of man, by [Page] reason of his reason called Actions, what an Eclipse doe they suffer with vanityes darke bodye getting be­tweene them, and the clearenesse of reason? what see wee almost per­formed? How neerely soeuer resem­bling vertue, which more deepelye examined would not prooue vanity? euen Diuinitie is not free, for Hipo­crisie killes many actions, which without hipocrisie would be vertues; but I will leaue this office to Diuines, whose sightes can better discouer the inuisible walkings of professours of good-dooing ill. In secular professi­ons, I hardly see euen the grauest goe without touching vanity, performing as much for ostētations sake, as for ver­tues, the obseruation of which hath made me so incredulous, as I beleeue light actions, no more thē I do words: he that protests he loues his country, & in some aduenture of his pursse and paines, showes it, I am neuer the more [Page] mooued to extoll him: but when in a breache he defends his countrie, when he calleth the forces of his scattered countrimen shattered by Fortune, and so out of hope, as his action may bee called the dying with his Countrey; I will begin then to trust him: or if like the keeper of a Forte in the olde Flo­rentine dissentions, who being besei­ged, and his Castle fired, threwe his owne children into the flame, wil­ling them to take those giftes of For­tune, but for his honour, he held that in his brest, which no shocke of fortune should ouerthrowe, nor fire melte, Were there not such men to inriche Histories, how idle a thing were a Historie? for who is not mooued to followe this honorable patterne? his children were not more inflamed with the fire, then the vertuous reader, mee thinkes, should be with his throwing them in the fier: now may we sweare he loued his countrie, and honour, and [Page] from him may distingush betweene the louers of Fame and Vertue: for Fames seruantes loue commendati­ons, but with all they loue to heare it themselues: the other thinkes of ver­tue not of Life. It needes no wonder though their valures differ, that imploy them for fame, from those for ver­tue. Were I the seruant of Fame, it should be my case, for her rewardes are fainte and leane: the fire nouri­shing valour, comes from no outward thing, but from the sweetnesse of the meditation of vertue: but Fame thinks not on that, but lookes who seeth her, and dooth worse then louers, that drawe their vigour from their Mi­stresse eyes.

Vertue hath Fame, though vertue workes not for fame, which mee thinkes is an excellent testimonie of the diuine goodnesse, when not one­lie his, and humaine lawes teache it, but euen from the example of our [Page] familiars may be read good and bad. Thus preuailed Benedetto Alberti ba­nished by the Florentines, for after his death they confessed their errour, and fetched home his bones, buying them with solemne pompe, and honour, whome being aliue they had persecu­ted with slaunder and reproache. In matters of pollicie, vanitie beares no lesse swaye, when from the force of rules and institutions, they thinke to maintaine states. Policie conducted by vertue, I thinke the life of Gouern­ment, without which a common-wealth can no more liue, then a bo­die without a soule: but policie (as it is commonly taken and vsed) is no more certaine nor profitable, then a Farmers drawing all his Councell from a Kalender.

It raines, of which Philosophy will say, the sunnes drawing vp of moy­sture from the earth is the cause: alas▪ this is the last cause, but the cause of [Page] causes we vnderstand not. Tracke by Philosophie the most impotent natu­rall thing, for some discentes you may go with it, but the ende is, you must leaue it, attributing it to the intelli­gences, and to the first cause past the ability of our meditations strength; for wee are yet humaine, they meere­lie diuine.

As this, so this pollicie is coniec­turall, and vncertaine, full of perill, neuer safe. Of men of this kinde, Caesar Borgia is a fitte example, in whome was as much wicked wise­dome, as I thinke euer in anye, with which hee fared like a Cock­boate in a storme, now alofte, now suncke, and still in his desseignes, ra­ther increased in his sinnes, then in his power: at last when hee meant one that should not haue assisted his rising, hee killed the supporter of his heigth.

[Page]Hee that will with naturall accidents seeke to diminishe the diuine hand in this worke, doth impiously, and is in the waye of Atheisme: for it is ma­nifest, God meant to punish, and to teache in this example, that hee did it rather by his ministers, then imme­diately, explaining his diuine wise­dome, which inforced them to runne into their owne plots laide for others. Not onely dooth heauen detest this course, but euen among men it is vaine: though the strength of a state may be knowne, their vse lyes hidden. Euery daye doth the witte of industrie inlarge it selfe, and deuise vses of things, which without the spirite of Prophecie, or chaunce, may be with­out his rules, and then who seeth him not apt to fall into the worste errours? Thus hath Artillery put the auncient Romaine and Graecian Histories out of fashion in many things: thus hath the experience of their times, and [Page] the witte of these, changed almost the whole body of gouernment. Who heareth of Lycurgus common-wealth not skilled in Antiquities, and be­leeues it not rather a thing thought, then done? Doubtlesse the witte of man is too excellent a thing to bee catcht in a snare which hee seeth lye before him, he goeth not alwayes one waye: though lawes can fadome the driftes of vice, yet those of wisedome, this pollicie cannot, for it is vpwarde, euen to heauen is her flight; the other earthly and visible. But I may in this offende, like some confutours that haue ended their paines with making their cause worse. This paper is yet in my handes, but in whose it may be; I knowe not: and howsoe [...] I meane, others not meaning well, may make helpe their ill. It must be God, that in these and all other things must helpe vs, wee are no other then his instrumentes: when we vndertake to [Page] bee handes, we sin in presumption: vn­der his conduct things come to a con­clusion. Those that prosper for a while without his counsaile, and directi­on, they are but the Instruments of his scourge, and prosper no longer then while they are in their execu­tioners office, we go blind fold with­out the Sunne, can we then go with­out his licence that made the Sunne? Wee are to impotent to stand with­out a supporter, our actions rest in doubt, and our discourse cannot resolue them, but euer wee shall thinke La tardita noi toglie L'occasi­one, la celerita [...]e for [...]e. I account in this list all that account their coun­trey vngratefull, or that repine at her commaundementes: shee can­not bee, for thou art for her vse, and if thou bee'st vnprofitable, with iustice shee may put thee awaye. Wee must not thinke shee can doe vniustlye, it is Arrogancy, and par­tiality, [Page] to compare thy knowledge with hers: our soules are for heauen, our bodyes for our Countrey, and that excellent Issue of heauen, is de­stinated to no worke vpon the earth, but to vphould this our common mo­ther.

How may wee blush that are o­uercome by heathens and yet haue the oddes of diuinity? by them, that knew vertues preciousnesse onely in fame, when wee know shee is cur­raunt in the worlde of worldes? this hath come from an opinion that their ignoraunce produced valour, but this opinion is as full of sinne as follye. Is valour prohibited because mur­der; and selfe murther is prohibited? the building cannot stand where the foundation is false [...] they faile in the de­finition of fortitude, which is (as all o­ther single vertues are) but the colour of the substanciall body of vertue, [Page] which when cast-vpon another sub­staunce is not vertue, though like ver­tue. These hold that fortitude hath runne her perfectest course when shee hath passed the gates of death, no: fortitude indures stronger assaults then death. But were it so: Is he that comes neare death valiaunt? why then, hang Tropheys ouer the gallowes; the cause, the cause must in all things tell whose child the effect is. He that fights with fury is not valiant, but he that lendes iustice force. Cato dyed in as fit a time to make his death looke nobly as could be, and at the fittest course of naturall reason, it will seeme good reason, not to out liue his countries liberty: but had it not beene more compassionately done of him, to haue accompanied his country in misery? had it not beene more wisely done to haue repriued hope, and to haue watch'd time, when happily by oppor­tunity hee might haue ransomed his [Page] country? I account not his valour, no more then he that winkes at the blow of death, the one hiding his eyes be­cause he would not see death, the other seeking death because he would not feele misery. Cato is not held by mee a paterne of fortitude, hee helped not his country by his death: if to dare dye you thinke so excellent, the women among the Romans could doe it as­well as he: because it is prohibited, we like it, because contrary to our selfe-louing mindes we admire it, & in that respect, (were it not against diuinity) I should allowe of it; for he comes ne­rest vertue that throwes against the bias of his affections Camillus (whom I once mentioned) was a patterne of fortitude: so was among the Graeci­ans Pelopidas and his companions, who plotted, and effected the ouer­throw of tiranny with the aduenture of their liues, yet killed not themselues because their country was oppressed [Page] by a tirant. Fortitude, (take her in her vttermost boundes) incircleth the o­uercomming Passions the bearing the assaults of the world, she goeth euen into the confines of tempe­raunce, for to curbe appetite, mee thinkes, is fortitude: but bind her now to her managing peril, and to the seruing her common wealth, to make her herselfe, there must be in her pre­tence, reason, profit, and iustice. Rea­son in the plotting, profit in the obtai­ning, iustice in the vse: for without these, it is a bestiall daring, not for­titude.

Now to my comparison of the va­lour of those times with this of Chris­tianity: can his reason be so exact, that knowes not from whence his reason comes (for their wisest did but gesse at the immortality of the soule) as his that doth continually cōuerse with his soule? for so ought Christians. Or shall his profit, that lookes no farther then [Page] the body, bee compared to him that profits both soule, and body? Bud for iustice, what vnderderstanding wil pre­fer humane lawes (whose end is but proffit) to diuine iustice, whose end is vertue? who seeth not now (that will see) times past had not the way of for­titude? for their best were but shad­dowes: neither had they that cause, for fortitude at that time was not known. They durst die, but wee know how to vse death: they durst aduenture but we know how to profit by aduen­turing: then it is Idlenes, that hath foū ­ded this opinion, for if we wil do wel, none euer knew better how, neuer had any better cause, for we are certaine of our reward. Of the repinings, & vpbrai­dings of a man reiected by his coun­trie, I should speake a little more: how contrary it is to right, and ver­tue, for thy body is thy countries, and thy soule ought to follow vertue: dooth thy soule consent to thy bodies [Page] rebellious thoughtes? both body and soule forsake right, and vertue, for thy soule maintaines wrong, & so looseth vertue, thy body doth wrong, and so looseth right. In this, both the Grae­cian, and Romane common wealthes brought forth many more faithull, the repetition of whome, those eyes that haue seene historye, can as redily pro­duce as I, whom I will therefore omit, and saue that labour. Onely thus: to vpbraide our country with our good desertes, is to aske reward at the worldes handes, not at vertues: out all, is not all: wee are bound to doe for it: but our best shall be called well, because our vttermost. Not to pro­fesse much, but to vse it well is the way of felicitie, and then doth our body not hurt our soule, when it is content to imploy his force to blowe the fire, while shee is extracting the quintes­sence of things. For the lighter per­formaunce of men, how drunkenly, [Page] doth vanity make euery thing that comes from them, looke? one gildes himselfe with hauing much, lookes big, doubtes not of himselfe, speakes peremptorily, when asked for his war­rant, he throwes out the big-swolne wordes, of a 1000 pound a yeare: not from his wit, but reuenew drawes he the strength of his ability, it is seene, & allowed by custome (to the terrour of wisdome) that from that 1000 pound a yeare are fetch'd all vertues, he shall bee honest, temperate, wise, valiant; learned, for he hath a thousand pound a yeare: who seeth not here a conspi­racie betweene ignorance, and adula­tion to confound knowledge, and ver­tue? for neuer was there yet so vnchast and poore a vertue, as to be corrupted by earth? Did they know rather how much vertue hates the borrowing the gay clothes of riches, and withall how feeble, and worthlesse creatures they are, that painte themselues with these [Page] outward things, certainely they would change their vanitye into despera­tion.

These haue a soule in which restes so many graces as passeth the deciphe­ring of man, yet these not knowing their soule, liue, fetching contentment from the grosse pouerty of earth: how is hee faine to borrowe company? to tune that company to his ignorance? to warne them from speaking wise­lye? for his mother tongue hee vn­derstands not, if imployed in anye graue subiect.

In the midst of these, what doth he but feede vpon himselfe? for he loues life, and yet weares out Time, the stuffe that life is made of. But wantes hee Company? or doth it raine? or are not sportes ready? he gapes, hee rumbles, he cryes out of solitarines, he sympathizeth with the raine, & lotheth his life. Who not guiltye, and at this [...]ight doth not laugh to goe with the [Page] weather? surely had the Romanes had any of this kinde, they would haue cooped them vp among their Birdes vsed for Augurie. There are in man yet many things that might be made vertues, for his glimmering is a kin to the sight of our first father before his fall: The breath that was once breathed into him (though corrupted) yet is not wholye taken away: ex­cept vanitie still makes vs fall, wee may yet rise to diuine heigth: to de­fend which poison, contemplation and studie are excellent Antidotes: for I thinke with Plato, that learning is to the soule but Recordutio: for by learning we may recouer parte of the knowledge, which our first father lost, though no more neere that perfecti­on, then our vertue is noare his first goodnesse.

I haue done writing of vanitie, I would I could haue done with her in all kinde of thinges [...] but wishes [Page] are the shaftes of Vanity. Reader, if thou thinkest I haue beene too long, for all that, be not angrie, for perhaps thou art partly the cause.

Essay. 45. Of Vaine-glory.

ZEale, and Contemplation, haue likened the earth to a Theater, hu­maine natures to Actors, whose partes deliuered, they deliuer their stage to the next, witnessing by this, the short­nesse of mortalitie. Let me lengthen this suite made for the worlde, and re­semble our knowledges to a common Plaiers; who gets his part by hart with­out the knowledge of his heart, speak­ing not vnderstanding. Who beleeues me not, let him beholde my subiect, whose sight bleared with folly, neuer sawe, nor euer shall see the light of knowledge. Alas mans glory is vaine-glory: [Page] what more ougly, and absurde portraiture can the thoughts & toung (which are the colours and pensill of man) decipher? for this flatters pouer­tie, and calles it ritch: wrinckles, and deformities, beautifull, and well for­med: ignorance knowledge: Blacke, white: the names of all, these good, shee attributeth to himselfe, when if drawne to the life, she is poore, wrinck­led, deformed, ignorant, and black. O double vnhappinesse: not to be able to helpe it with knowing it: ô vnre­couerable disease, that is without fee­ling the disease. The best doth best, when he accuseth his owne vnworthi­nesse, like Caesars souldiour, whose va­lour beeing such as to be commended by Caesar, yet asked pardon, & wept for the losse of some one souldierly habi­lement: he sawe himselfe truely, and tooke knowledge of his faulte without partiallity. Euen the best part of man receiues life frō the affections of man, [Page] which like affections do not alwayes see directly but came often with an vndirected vehemency. Mans valour is first a daring, afterwardes experi­ence, and reason refines it, and makes it valour. It is not valour at the first; for we haue no vertue originally pure, and vncorrupt. Reason at the first is but sence, and sence afterwardes makes reasō: for our knowledge here is earth­ly, what aboue earth, wee compre­hend by faith, or suppositiō. How then do we runne by errour to knowledge? so that our Audit vnpartially reckned, he that doth best did ill before he did better, and hath the History of the life stuffed with as many imputations as actions well ended, who now de­liberating will either obscurely force commendations from his compani­ons, or more impudently made will crowne himselfe with, desertes, since reckening with himselfe, except pa [...] ­ed by flattery hee shall finde himselfe [Page] indebted to his country, and to nature? I neede not mention the Author of his countrey, and nature, since these more feeble and morrall considera­tions will ouerthrow him. Yet no­thing is more common, and in fashi­on with the worlde, then either to draw modesty to betray, herselfe to flattery, or if not vnderstood, to make themselues musicke with bee­ng the trumpet of their owne com­mendations. How haue my eares per­secuted my whole body with disper­sing the tedious relations of these cre­atures? How haue I heard some brag­garts not souldiers, discoursing their perils, ingrose the actions of whole ar­mies all to themselues? None haue beene mentioned but themselues they were generall & souldiers plotter and executor, it hath ended with their woundes, their victories. What could chaunce to discreet [...] a [...] more often­siue? not Ribauldry to I [...] Virgine. [Page] Thus in all liues, and in the best most common: thus States-men, imploy­ment, Lawyers, Clients, Schollers in­uincible in arguing, profound in knowledge: how haue mechanicke trades robde these noble professions? they say, iudge of mee by my worke, so should these say by their actions: True worthinesse hauing heard these fellowes with the large particulars, would ende with the Athenian Ar­chitect, I can doe what these haue saide: thus dooth true Vertue, acting matters for Chronicles, not recording her owne Actions.

Let vs thinke then of vaine-glorye as it deserueth, and not of the name but nature, not with a disallowance in generall, but particularly applying it, disallowe so much of our selfe as is infected with it. I will begin, whose name beeing lately diuulged may be suspected of the sicknesse: I disauowe it, and that I am so, I protest by the [Page] Genius of Contemplation, was con­trarie to my intendiment: but I durst not then suppresse it, Nam spreta ex­olescunt, nor now say more, for feare my vse of modestie, may be thought the abuse: yet thus much more, to whose hands so euer these come, let them charitablye beleeue, I desire more to doe my countrye good, then to bee paide for it, for I haue my hyre from another place. I meane well, and speake honestly, and I will bee as carefull to liue well, for; ‘Dicentis Inducunt mores non dicta.’

But to leaue this by arrand: neces­sitie may inforce vs to speake like vaine-glorie, but that it is necessitie cleares vs. Suspicion of a crime al­lowes vs to showe our innocencie, when wronged by our Ingratefull Countrie, it is lawfull to goe with Themistocles, Quid o beati tumultu­ [...]mini? saepe numero ab risdem beneficia [Page] accipientes, et tempestate quadem pressi, sub eorundem tutelam tāquam sub arbo­rem fugi is, facta autem serenitate, sub du­citis vos illosque vellitis. I thinke he did not this more for his owne sake then for theirs, hee made them a glasse to behold their inconstant follies in: It was well done, softnesse in these cases nourisheth vices, and giues the giddie multitude winges insteed of legges to flye to mutinies and dissentions.

When a place of authoritie giues vs authoritie, and trueth allowes vs to speake well of ourselues, it is lawfull to make the subiectes of our gouernement confident of our vertue like Nestor.

[Page]It is common in the whetstone of the souldiers swordes, the oration of a generall before a battaile to racke their memory, and to make her con­fesse all the exploites which at any time they haue done: It is common to tell them; how often haue you beene victorious ouer these people your enemies? though a simple A­rithmetician might bring them with­in number.

Plutarche avowes it to be the man­ner of Cyrus in warres, though in peace there was no man more mo­dest.

The custome of our Attyres in those times seemes to allowe it, wee weare glorious colours, and our heades, and Horses feathers, beau­tifying this bloody occupation, and giuing the eye leaue to Iudge of a Iollye magnificence, and courage. I like Ansigonus well, whoe in [Page] a sea battaile being aduertised that his aduersaries exceeded him in number of Gallies, he asked the reporter, a­gainst how many he reckened him: It was brauely said, and illustrated a bold spirite, it was no matter though it wan­ted modestie, she fittes more ciuill, and and more silent actions. Thus did Vlis­ses in courage the fainting spirites of his companions.

Gonsaluo the braue purchaser of the kingdome of Naples to the crowne of Aragon spake brauely in a time of daunger. Desider aua piu tosto d'hauere [...]d pirsente la sua sepoltura vn p [...]lmo di­terreno piu avanti, ehe co'l ritirarsi indie­tropoche [Page] braccia, allungare la vita cento anni. He did wel at that time to cleare himselfe from the suspition of feare which commonly attendes daunger, and to his souldiers he gaue new life, for their heads being vnable to iudge, they are directed by their eyes whom they send to discouer the behauiour of their commaunder, which from thence come, fraught either with hope, or dis­paire. I thinke it was neither enuy, nor vaine glory, that made Agesilaus exa­mine whether the title of Great, be­longed more to the king of Persia, then to himselfe, Non ille me maior est, nisi et [...]: He was a Philosopher as well as a king, acquainted with his owne soule as well as with greatnesse which dilated to him, that outwarde greatnes differed not from gay clothes which are worne out by time, and in that time subiect to casualty, but ver­tue he saw to be the foundation, and the true iudge of greatnesse. At death [Page] it is tollerable, for then the best wee can doe, is but to bee an example to the liuing; and to showe our best pointes to the worlde, and our worste to God wrapt in repentance is honest, and religious: that done, to showe a gladnesse of our new guest, like Pho­cion to a fellow that wept at his death. Heus tu, inquit, quid [...]dicis? non amas mori cum Phocione? or like the Mi­lanois conspiratour. Mors acerba, fama perpetua, stabit vetus memoria facti.

It is a colde thing this same Death, and must haue some such warme me­ditation to comforte the stomacke of the minde, or else it will confound, and distemper the soule for the bodies sake. But in an high state, and a state of tranquillitie, neither Morall ver­tue, nor discreete pollicie allowes it: not vertue, which will tell vs, wee come shorte of the hyre of commen­dations: not Pollicie, for it layes vs [Page] open to Enuie, and demostrates a minde ouer-burthened with his For­tune.

Not our actions performed with wisedome and successe, may we cha­lenge at this time, for their glorie vp­braides the state, as if vnrecompen­ced, and ouerdrepes our countrymen, both aduersaries to potent to bee dis­pised, both losses beyond the gaine of commendations. God is the giuer of victory, the performer of all well suc­ceeding enterprises, giue it to him, to whome giuen, it produceth safetie, and accordeth with truth: from thence let vs share it, attributing parte to the direction of the state, parte to the va­lour of our Souldiours, or others nea­rest to the imployment: to our selfe, allaying praise with fortune or desti­nie: thus it is safe, and good, and not without Fame, which growes by be­ing suppressed.

Of Essayes, & Bookes

I Hould neither Plutarches, nor none of these auncient short manner of writings, nor Montaignes, nor such of this latter time to be rightly termed Essayes, for though they be short, yet they are strong, and able to endure the sharpest triall: but mine are Essayes, who am but newly bound Prentice to the inquisition of knowledge, and vse these papers as a Painters boy a board, that is trying to bring his hand and his fancie acquainted. It is a manner of writing well befitting vndigested mo­tiōs, or a head not knowing his strēgth like a circumspect runner trying for a­starte, or prouidence that tastes before she buyes: for it is easier to thinke wel then to do well, and no triall to haue handsome dapper conceites runne in­uisibly in a braine, but to put them out, and then looke vppon them: If they [Page] proue nothing but wordes, yet they breake not promise with the world, for they say but an Essay, like a Scriuenour trying his Pen before he ingrosseth his worke, nor to speake plainely, are they more to blame then many other that promise more, for the most that I haue yet touched, haue millions of wordes to the bringing forth one reason, and when a reason is gotten, there is such borrowing it one of another, that in a multitude of Bookes, still that conceit, or some issued out of that appeares so be laboured, and worne, as in the ende it is good for nothing but for a Pro­uerbe. When I thinke of the abilities of man, I promise myselfe much out of my reading, but it prooues not so, Time goeth, and I turne leaues▪ yet still finde my selfe in the state of igno­rance, wherefore I haue thought bet­ter of honesty, then of knowledge, what I may knowe I will conuerte to that vse, and what I write, I meane so, [Page] for I will choose rather to be an honest man then a good Logitian. There was neuer art yet that layd so fast hold on me, that she might iustly call mee her seruant. I neuer knew them but su­perficially, nor indeed will not though I might, for they swallow their subiect, and make him as Ouid saied of him selfe.

I would earne none of these so deare­ly, as to tye vp the minde to thinke onely of one thing, her best power by this meanes is taken from her, for so her circuit is limited to a distaunce, which shoulde walke vniuersallye. Moreouer there growes pride, and a selfe opinion out of this, which de­uoures wisedome.

Marke but a Grammarian, whose occupation well examined is but a sin­gle-soled trade, for his subiect is but wordes, and yet his construction is [Page] of great matters resting in himselfe. Socrates was the wisest man of his time, and his ground for that, was his turning all his acquired knowledge into morality: of whome one said, hee fetched Philosophy from heauen, & placed her in Citties. Plato laughes at those commonwealthes men, that intend onely the inlarging, and inrich­ing of their countreyes, and in the meane time they suffer the inioyers of their labours to be vicious, and disho­nest: euen so of these thirsters after knowledge, for hath he all that men possibly may haue, and then inclose it in the chest of a dishonest brest, it but corruptes him, and makes the poyson of his viciousnes more for­cible.

I liue not to illustrate the excel­lency of any art, but to vse artes as Bridles, to reare vppe the head-strong [Page] wilfulnesse of my naturall cor­ruption. Thus I see all things, and take example as well by a vicious pro­digall fellowe, as by one vpon the gal­lowes, and desire his part no more that is able, and doth nourish excesse, then I do the others, and if I would beleeue Plato, he holdes this state the better, for the one is now surfetting, the other taking Phisicke. I haue heard of the effects of great reading, ioyned to an vnderstanding able to digest, and car­rie it, of high acting spirits, whose am­bitions haue beene fed by Fortune and power: these make a great noise in the eares of men, and like a swaggerer seeme to drowne more humble spi­rites: but equally examined, the giftes of morallity are more excellent, and vertuous. When Alexander thirstinge threwe the water offered him vpon the ground, and would not adde to the thirst of his companions with his owne priuate affections, he did much [Page] more noblye then in winning all his victories: for those rightly determi­ned take away maruaile, and admirati­on, for they were for his owne sake: but here, compassion, regard of others, and temperance, pleade for an eternall applause; this was moralitie, and the inwarde discourse of an honest minde, this was no bloodshed, nor blowes, but the preseruation of his friends: here blood spotted not his name, but puritie so imbellished it, that no eye louing vertue can see this peece with­out due praising it. Non of these sear­chers into the driftes of na [...]e can I thinke so well, as of a minde obseruing his affections, moderating or spurring his will, as it flyeth, or straiteth from the right way of vertue. Thus do I thinke of Seneca, and Aristotle, the first's moralitie its easily to bee vnderstood, and easily digested to the nourishment of vertue; the others more high, and to the readers more questionable, whe­ther [Page] it will make him curious, or ho­nest.

Xenophon though his Cyrus bee so good, as plainely showeth it a life, ra­ther imagined, then acted, yet hee so plainely discouereth the waye of ver­tue, as the easiest vnderstanding [...]n­not goe astraye, nor the worste abuse him with interpretation I holde these much more safe, then those workes which stande vpon Allegories, for euery head hath not fire enough to distill them, nor euery vnderstanding patience enough to finde out the good meaning: and many are so ill, as when they haue found out an interpretation meete to nourishe their sensualitie, they staye there, and are the worse for their reading.

Thus offend, most Poets, who land­ing their writings with fictions, feede the ignorant and vicious with as much poison as preseruatiue. This one of them confesseth speaking to his Muse.

Though rightly hee toucheth the tendernesse of humaine conceites, which willinglye admit nothing that represents not pleasure, and flatters not sensualitie, yet should it be farre from the grauitie of a writer, [...]o runne with the streames of vnbrideled affections. He should ranke with the Constitu­tours of common-wealths: Lawe-makers, and wise Authors, ought to intend both one thing, they no waye differ, but that onely these last com­pell not, but intreate their Country­men to bee vertuous. But should a Lawe-maker insteade of punishing [Page] malefactors widen his lawes, & make them soft vppon the complaines of men, no state coulde stand for the cause of commonwealthes mankinde would destroy themselues, and this world by lawes made beautifull, by being without would become a spec­tacle of ruine, and desolation. Though in this kinde, Poetrie hath most offen­ded, yet intending well, it [...] to be reiected. It is a short, and swe [...]e [...]ur'd eloquence, it stirreth vp noble desires, and good intentions, [...] according to Plato, it performeth it off [...], which is Diuinos hymnos canene, [...] magnarium (que) gesta [...] re­censert. Thus it is not basely imployed, nor were it reason, for it is a diuine is­sue of vnderstandings, and dresseth the subiects of her peniful of witty delight & is the wings of the some with which she seemes to flie to the heighest part of imaginatiō. Among Poets S [...]neta [...]s Tragedies fit wel the hands of a states­man, [Page] for vpon that supposed stage are brought many actions, and fitting the stage of life, as when he saith.

Arsprima regni est posse to inuidium pa [...]. History woulde haue carried you through many regions, into many battailes and many changes, and you shold haue little more for your [...]aines▪ as in the life of Sylla, and many others of all times. A truelie disposed minde must meditate of this euen at his ente­ring into this life, so shall it be no strā ­ger to him, nor drowne this well per­so [...]nied actions with [...]rds, and excla­mations. In another place he draweth the excellency of vertue, and that her strength passeth all strengthes. Vertutis est [...]

For so doth vertue prepares her sub­iect, that nothing but herselfe oft en [...] of them with loue, and affection, all other things beeing by her caught to bee transitory, and mortall, euen pa [...] of himselfe, knowing which hee neither [Page] feares, nor longs for the time of hi [...] dis­solution. So is Virgils Aeneiads a booke meete for a Prince, and his neerest in­struments: for it being agreed by the most iudiciall censures, that in matters of state many things fall out both be­yond expectation and naturall reason, which wee therefore call the Actes of Fortune: he saith, ‘—Superanda omnis Fortuna ferendo est.’

For Pacience keepeth the reputati­on vnspotted; though outward forces be destroyed, this makes the minde in­uincible, which not onely giues gr [...]ces and preseruation ro the best par [...] of man, but inforceth more commiserati­on from the victour, then basenesse, in­ [...]reatie, and supplications, which AE­ [...]bus the vtter ruine of the Macedo [...] glory explained, when P [...]rseus the last of their kings beeing vanquished, prostrated himself [...] at his feete, from which sight he turned his eyes, and cal­led [Page] him the robber of his glory, for his power, and name, made his victorie glorious, which the vilenesse of his person brought backe to contempt, as if he had ouercome a boye, or a wo­man, the poorenesse of whose strength makes teares and supplications readier then resistance. At what time England remained vnpolished and vnmanured by the sweetenesse of letters, there was sound one Car [...]cta [...]us, whose name Tacitus celebrates with as great prai­ses, as if a Romaine, and a conquerour, which last I name as the spurre of com­mendations, for more faintely doe all men, as well as Historyographers mention the vanquished their Con­queror: for many ac [...]ions are brought forth by the haste of occasion, to whome a long discourse is not Mid­wife, yet done, the worlde maketh some one access [...]rie of many plottes, which hee neuer thought of, and an­other guilty of imputations, because [Page] ouercome. But Caractatus betrayed, and brought in triumph to Rome, was neither deiected with thinking of his captiuity, nor amazed at the Romans splendour, but then taught Claudius how it became him to vse his fortune, and in spight of fortune with the [...]ag­nanimity of his own minde made the action of those times confesse, that C [...] ­sar dum suum decus extollit addidit glo­riam victo. How slowly and vnwilling­ly praises are bestowed vpon the van­quished, Tacitus Relates speaking of a king of Sueuia, Digressus C [...]stellis Var­nius funditur praelio, quan qu [...] rebus ad­uersis laudatus, quod et pugnam [...] capescit, et corpore aduerse vielnera exci­pit. Hee fought valiantly, and receiued wounds, but was not valiant because fortune gaue him not the victory. In another Virgill teacheth that no noble mindes are fearefull, ‘Degeneres Animos Timor arguit —’

Who ought better to thinke of this [Page] then a statesman, the heigth of whose actions brings him to handle thinges to an vnprepared minde daungerous, & fearefull, to eschew which he bindes him in a strong band, he fortels his ho­nour, which is the most precious iewel of greatnesse, without which he be­comes as vnprofitable as a Bee with­out a sting, for whatsoeuer he is, be he neuer so great, or good, yet, magis fa­ma, quam vi starent res suae, the reputati­on of a statesman, the credit of a mar­chant, and the modesty of a woman, preuailing more, then their powers, riches, or beauty. In another place, ‘Mens immota manet. Lachrimae volun­tur inanes.’

How feeble the succours of the body are, euery vnderstāding obseruing those creatures that either haue no soule, or hauing, vse it not, may easily know: for the grosenes of the bodies nature pre­uailing but by strength, when that is vanquished Lachrimae voluntur Inanes: [Page] but a minde made strong by vse, & ex­ercise Immota manet; it lookes not vpon fortune with a deiected spirite, but not puffed vp with the vaine alluremēts of the body, is then plotting how to reco­uer, not how to desire pardō: he lookes vpon his prefent state, not with teares, but vpon it, because vpon that ground-worke he must build the course of his freedome as he saith afterward.

Howsoeuer that Scithian fellow estee­med musicke basely by preferring the neighing of horses before it, yet no question both musick, and letters, & e­specially verses, which participate both with musick & letters, is a braue raiser of the spirits: & I thinke armes disable not themselues with taking assistance frō Poesie, for doubtles it makes valour beautifull, & well becomming, for ta­king away part of his fiearcenesse, and adding insteed therof reason, makes it [Page] true fortitude. Of Poets for this purpose some learned, talke much of Homer, but though they are learned, yet I dare not speake of him, because as neere as I can, I wil not build vpō others. Of those whom I vnderstād, Lucan, & Tasso, the one of which is auncient, & the other as worthy if seasoned by so much time, but I will not chide the world for that, for the reuerencing of age, & times past moderately is a good fault of a good nature. But this life of armes which cus­tom hath taught to put on a gallāt iol­lines in his outward behauiour, therby to show danger & distresse, cannot in their course mourne, or be feareful, gi­uing leaue to the minde in these out­ward semblances to play the braggart, & lay opē what she thinks of her owne resolution, which fashion of a souldier bindes him to entertaine all fortunes alike. For the high words & big lookes that vse hath made tolerable in this life, would adde deformity to his yeelding teares or cōplaints, but especially here.

There's the alteration which the frownes of fortune should breede in him, beeing rather an Alarum for the summoning of his spirites, then a terrour driuing them awaye, which power, Nature hath giuen to the Ele­ments by instinct, but a more excellent power hath she giuen to man, namely reason, with which if hee dooth not more then those more meanly indow­ed, it is his fault, not Natures, for in rea­son and discourse, the abilities of man, there is more then an Antipaerist aticall vertue.

So feare ought euery way to be re­mote from the life of a Souldier, for neither is it handsome, nor safe, so stu­pifying his vnderstanding, that neither the danger, his honour, his countrie, or his life is in, are either defended or re­garded. But this banished makes not [Page] valour but furie, for Iustice must bee matched with daring, or else it is not Fortitude; the cause must reconcile the effect to vpright truth, or else; ‘Heu quantum [...]aenae miseris, mens cons­cia donat?’

Were guiltinesse remooued from punishment, yet to wrest the vnder­standing against Iustice, is full of ter­rour, the conscience being an insepe­rable companion, which neither cor­ruption nor feare can make silent. In no course is it more behoouefull then in the life of a souldiour, for armes tak­eth vpon it to correct the disorder of peace; It is the Phisitian of a state, the Iusticer of a state, the Diuine of a state, for his inforcement is the Phi­sicke, the execution, the counsaile ad­ministred to those obstinacies vntrac­table, but by computation. Tasso doth also yeelde many plentifull rules lea­ding to the preseruation of life, and after that of honour.

Cowards feele not death, but the me­ditation of death, for that concluder of mortalitie is no more cruel to the cow­ard, then to the valiant, the difference rests onely in their opinions, as it is in many other things of this world. What by some imaginations are called iew­els, are by others determined trifles: as these outward things, so the choosers of these the affections, are according to their possessor: for a cowards feare, is in a wise man prouidence; lauish ioy, solid contentment: appetite made choise, wishes intentes, making hope fruition. Thus certaine doth wisdomes resolution performe his iourney with­out halting, tiring, or straying. E par lieto morir. No doubt but to a minde that can inwardly relate a well-runne course, it cannot but be ioy to be taken vp, for with glory he ends, and remai­ning longer he could not end better, [Page] therefore longer life could haue beene but superfluous, perhaps dangerous: for many yeares well followed haue do­ted before their ends, and so corrupted their worke fairely begun. E saluo il ca­roscudo. In this shield I holde the pre­seruation of honour, care of his coun­trie, an honest life, for detraction can­not be kept out without such a triple-leaued shield: but this shield imbra­ced, enuie it selfe cannot wound, but death appeares like a gratefull maister releasing his seruant from trauell.

So lazie, and fluggish are our natu­rall inclinations, that I wish these ver­ses the perpetuall obiect of my eyes, & if I should wish all men the same me­dicine being sick of the same disease, I should do them no harme. Who thinks of the infinite capacity of mā, of his ad­mirable inuentiō, of his immortalizing [Page] the whole volume of abstract, & most formes: of the fertilenesse of his braine, where things are continually in con­ceiuing, and bringing forth new, and they new, I cannot thinke of any thing which hee hath done that might not be excelled, considering his abilities, his workes are meane and slight, and their perfections so imperfect, as they are not worthy to bee called the chil­dren of his loynes.

It is time, so soone as our breathing hath set a scotch vpon Time: what can I speake of this time, but as of the light giuen vs to liue by, which who spendeth idlely, or (as ill) luxuriouslic, is worthy to go to bed darkling, which is, to die without being able to produce any matter worthy of his life, which vacuitie of vertue at that time will breede more terrour to him, then dark­nesse to children. It is time to do that we came for; for those imployed to be [Page] vigilant, to the flourishing of their country: to those priuate to be an ex­ample to others, and safety▪ to them­selues, in taking the direct way of right ‘—che qualche nobil opra.’ I am not so precise to call no Actions noble, that carty not with them a ru­mour, or a glittering: to my meaning nobility and honesty meane all one, & thus may a painfull Artisan be noble, if he follow his vocation painefully and constantly, he is honest, and so noble, being a Iimmer of a state, though no maine Organ, and his beeing in right temper, so farre as his strength goeth, a preseruatiue to the whole. To knowe this he ought to temper the hotnes of ambition, for it is not the greatnes, but the goodnesse of an action that makes it worthy, which who so knoweth, and yet prosecuteth the violēce of that hu­mor, ought to be cut off, for nothing is more fatall to a state then innouation, neither is there any thing so fast draw­ing [Page] to innouatiō as ambitions, it being innouations minority, like a pumple the childes age of a sore.

Here is the whole power of man taught the right vse, which we haue a cōmon speach no lesse illustrates whē we call the quality of things their ver­tue, by which we inforce the strength of each thing to worke by the line of vertue: to this center should all the di­ametricall parts of man tend, for they are but like the rayes of the sun, which borrow their beauty from the sun: for without vertue all the abilities of man are in darknesse, performing all things doubtfully, and perniciously: si scopra.

I do not thinke there can be concea­led vertues, for though I hate ostenta­tion, yet vertue ayming at nothing but the transforming her selfe into good­nesse, and the excellencie of goodnesse resting in her communicating power, vertue is not come to her perfection, [Page] vntil come to the perfectiō of goodnes

Here doth he showe the office of a ge­nerall, whose iudgement, not bodye, ought to bee imployed: Nature hath taught this to euery man, for shee hath made his armes to giue blowes, & de­fend, his head to teach his armes, and to be sure we should not vse it out of the right kinde, shee hath giuen it neither nimblenesse, nor strength, but directiō to teach the other parts that vse. More neede not be said of this, for common experience makes it euery mans. I will speake now of no more Poets, though there be more of vse: onely thus much of the auncient Satyrists, I holde them not meete for euery mans reading, for they chide vice, & show it both togither, besides their darknes, & personall mea­nings, take vp more time, thē knowne, they are worth: of other books though I haue already commended Plato, yet [Page] speaking of bookes, I must againe mentiō him for his commentors sake, who doth excellently illustrate him, which he performes with as little de­laye, and as fewe idle speeches, as the vnderstanding receiues knowledge from the sight of things which deli­uer themselues truely and simply vnto her. I knowe not whither I should speake of Philosophicall bookes more, since if the reader be not a Phisitian, or an Herbarist, they breed in him curiosi­tie rather then vse [...], for I account these words of Plato, Peritia efficit vt vita no­stra per Artem incedat, imperitia vero vt per fortunam temere circumuagetur, to tend rather to the knowledges pertinēt to an intended life, then to her vniuer­sall body: for should a Iudge talke of the obseruations of an vrine, when he is about matters of life and death, who would not determine his skil vnneces­sarie and ridiculous, since his Arte cures the minde, Phisick the body? nā medici [Page] curant corpora, Paenae Animam. What Bookes, or art medles, with a doctrine remote from the vse of life is a busie i­dlenesse, & a couer of an vnprofitable minde, like fidlers vndertaking the vse of an Instrument to keepe them from a more laborious trade. Lesse Astrono­my then will make a Calender, will serue my turne: onely so much is suf­ficient in a gentleman as seeing the re­uolutions of the heauens, hee may see them without disinaidnesse, and vse his knowledge to the comfort of his igno­raunt charge: As Dion going against Dyonisius the tirant, an Eclipse hapned, which astonished the multitude, but he conuerted it to the Eclipse of their enemies heigth, which fortified, and perswaded the feare, and blindnesse of his souldiours: the Eclipse (I thinke) would haue fallen out, though Dion had bin at home quietly in his cham­ber, and I doubt not but this friend of Plato thought so to, but yet the mindes [Page] not able to iudge of truethes, must be held with the exposition of these caele­stiall apparences, and be perswaded that the heaueus worke thus, onely to incourage, and harten them on. For that coupler, and combiner of wordes Grammer, to be much longer then it is in the armes of our nurse, is naught. I acount it a pittifull sight to see a fel­low at sixty yeare olde, learning to speake: to know the names of things without the things is vnprofitable, as a power to repeate the alphabet by a fellow altogether illiterate. I like well to speake, rather then to make signes, and to be carefull of ioyning the nom­minatiue case to the verbe, as my ser­uants or friends may vnderstand what I would, but to be Prentice to Tonus and Sonus for a life time, is a need­lesse as to make new clothes when one lies a dying, for words are but clothes, matters substance. Rethorickes Cooke­ry, is the vomit of a pedant, which to [Page] make saleable he imitated the Dyer, whose fat working ill, hee makes a mendes by giuing those ill cullours new names: so this venting his infinity of words with calling it eloquence, and fortifying eloquence with methodicall diuisions. Rhetorica suadet, non docet: Is she could perswade what were wor­thy to be taught, and bring that wor­thy with her, it were better: but the slipery glibnes of the tonge giueth such a facility, to speake, as commonly it runnes without reason, & so is as fruite­les as a messenger without an arrand. I might say of those remaining, that they hold more conclusiōs then are needfull for euery man, but I wil go no farther thē this tast. Againe of books, morality hath very ill luck now a daies, for ma­ny haue medled with her with ill suc­ces: I wil name thēfor they are vnhapy enough to be destinated to wast Paper. Those of cōmōwealthes, came as much short but it is no maruaile, for cōmonly they are scholers that neuer knew more [Page] of gouernement, then it pleased Aris­totles Politickes, or some such, rich one­lie in the names of Oeconomicus, De­spoticus, and Politicus, & then to define the three seuerall gouernementes, but they were to blame, for the Theoricke, & Practick of no arte nor subiect differ so much, as that of commonwealthes, and state businesse. Seneca of morality is the best, Petrarch de remediis vtrius­que fortunae dooth well, but he was a sharper Poet, then a Philosopher, there being a more excellent quicknesse in his Sonets then Dialogues. There is now left Historie, which resembles, counsailours that aduise nothing but what they themselues haue done, which study is not without daunger, for it is so boūd to truth, that it must re­late falshood, & continue rather in re­latiō then in aduise: of these, the truest reflecting glasses are those that present particular mens liues. Amōg those I haue seene none are worthy but Plutarch, [Page] & Diogenes Laertius, which two being diligentlie reade, and rightly vsed, can­not but recompēce the readers paines, for the temperance of these Philoso­phers mingled with the valour of Plu­tarkes Captaines cānot choose but make an exact man. Tacitus alreadie hath re­ceiued his sentence frō me, but I must againe say, he is more wise, then safe, but that is not his fault: for the Pain­ter is not to be blamed though his pic­ture be ill fauored if his paterne were so, nor Tacitus thought ill, because Ti­berius was a tirant, Claudius a foole, Nero vicious. But neuer was there so wise an author so ill handeled by com­mentors, for where as I am sure hee meant still wisely, some of them haue so powdred him with morality, that they conuert his iuice into as little variety, or good vse, as Beware by me good people; or if more gently, like Aesops talking creatures, that haue moralls tyed to their tailes. The rest [Page] haue left him as they found him, with­out making him confesse any thing; so that all of them haue done no more, thē to try who loues gold so well as to pul it out of the durt, for he that fetches his sentences out of their pages, aduen­tures a bemiring. Comines is a good Historiographer, he knew much of the practick part of state learning, but I hold Guieciardine a better scholler, & more sentencious, as when he saith, Intuttele attioni humaine, et nella guerra massona­mente bisogna spesso accōmodare il consig­lio alla necessita. For the marshaling ad­uise more cānot be said, for it teacheth an aduiser to take his marke so sure as he cannot misse: for respectes appea­ring waighty in the time of the health of a state, must not be redeemed in her sicknesse, for preseruation is to bee preferred before comelinesse. There are many bookes by me omitted pre­cious enough, if Time will giue vs leaue to digest these: for I am of [Page] Senecaes minde concerning this va­riety of Bookes, who compares an vnsetled reader, to a trauailer, that hath many Hostes, and few friendes. There are more, but mine is but an Essay, not a Catalogue. I thinke well of these Bookes named, and the better because they teach me how to mannage my­selfe: where any of them grow sub­tile, or intend heigh matters, I giue my memory leaue to loose them. There are none that I scratche with my pen that doe not fatherly counsaile me to the way of vertue. I like much better to doe well, then to talke well, choosing to be beloued rather then ad­mired, aspiring to no more height then the comfort of a good conscience, and doing good to some, harme to none. If my Essayes speake thus, they speake as I would haue them, for I thinke not of making morality full of im­brodery, cutworkes, but to clothe her in trueth, and plainenesse: nor if they straye doe I seeke to amende them [Page] for I professe not method, neither will I chaine my selfe to the head of my chapter. If there be any yet so ignorant as may profit by them, I am content: if vnderstandings of a heigher reache dispise them, not discontent, for I mo­derate thinges pleasing vpon that con­dition, not to be touchd with things displeasing, who accoūtes them darke and obscure let them not blame mee, for perhaps they goe about to reade them in darkensse without a light, and then the fault is not mine, but the dim­nesse of their owne vnderstanding: If there be any such, let them snuffe their light, & looke where the fault of their failing restes.

Essay. 47. The Instrumentes of a Statesman.

[Page]Against no life doth the force of vice oppose her self; & make so strōg a pre­paration, as against the life of a states­man: for in a priuate course shee pre­pares her selfe but vpon some fewe places left vnfortified by nature, and transformes her selfe into some vncon­quered affections, but here she assaults with the weapons of Power, Self-loue, Ambition, Corruption, Reuenge, and Feare: all which though in all states, yet no where so forcible; as where greatnesse obserues reason with flatte­rie, and happinesse determines successe fetched out of his owne merites. In his priuate course, euery man may allot himselfe his company, his imploimēts, his successe, which hardly can fall out so contrary to his expectation, that ey­ther his owne negligence, or necessity shall not mittigate his passion: but here multitudes of purposes, of imploimēts, of company, of occasions, so rowle & tumble one: vpon another, as like a [Page] Swimmer in the boysterous Ocean, doth he neuer so strongly part one bil­lowe, another ouerwhelmes him, & his whole life is as troublesome & painful, as a body sweltred in a crowde: But howsoeuer troublesome with being a maine piller of a state, howsoeuer dan­gerous with beeing outwardly subiect to state and enuie, and inwardly per­plexed with his naturall ill affections made obstinate by fortune: yet these vanquished, or at least wise honestly resisted, he becomes of all liuing men the happiest, and the most innocent of mispēding the benefit of life. It is with man, as with the purest thing in esti­mation, which whilest it selfe, receiues respect from the sight & imagination, in recompence of the pleasures & con­tentment that the sight and imagina­tion receiue frō the obiect: but if spot­ted or deformed, all the other beauties turne into blemishes, & are witnesses of the disgrace, from which fight the [Page] senses turne away, as knowing this in­telligence would bevnwelcome to the minde, as the most abhorred thing of nature.

Man must then keepe his minde, (the infused preciousnesse that makes him man) as cleanlinesse keepes white, or rather as virginitie, virginity: for e­stimation is the sharpest enemy, if lost, and seperated from our friendship. To all men belongs vertue, for he cannot deale iustly with himselfe without ver­tue, for affection choosing grosely and partially, will statue the minde to feede the senses, and perhaps some of them to surfet others. He then that must di­stribute rightly to others without ver­tue, he shall be vnsensible, because af­fection knoweth onely what she fee­leth: to be iust then, hee must be ver­tuous, to be wise he must be vertuous, for wisdome is but truth, and vertue is truth: to be good he must be vertuous, to bee honest hee must bee vertuous, [Page] for vertue is honesty: in a worde to be, he must be vertuous, for her contrary is but corruption, which killes and de­formes, but is not to be seene seperated from her conquest. Vertue is the rocke whervpon the expert Architect of life must build, if hee meane to reconcile those heauenly adorners of things, beauty, and lasting. It is the foundatiō or stemme, that all particular graces are rooted in, for this plāt so obserued, as but once liuing in the soyle of man, the labour is ouer, and the hands that laboured at the setting, shall bee now recompenced with the gathering of al the sorts of wholsome fruits. Honesty, goodnesse, truth, and wisdome, beeing all the indiuiduall parts of vertue, and vertue all them. To the obtaining ver­tue, which we haue naturally rather in possibility, then possession: there is no course, but as Socrates saith; Bona mala­ (que) distinguere. In the knowledge and choise of these, rests the vttermost hap­pinesse [Page] of man, for Summum bonum est, quod honestum est, & quod magis admire­ris, vnum bonum est, quod honestum est ceura falsa, & adulterina bona sunt. To see how to make this seperation, let vs take the two bodyes including all the courses of man, which are proffit and pleasure: this first, the seducer of man­kinde, what is it but the adulterate issue of the sences? whose opinion, or per­swasion doe wee vse in the receiuing these but our senses? whose earthly ca­pacitie is too base a counsailour to di­rect him, for whō the earth was made, neither can they determine of the sub­stānciall parts of things, their powers reaching but to the accidents of sub­stances, as what is white & what sweet, but how to vse them they knowe not, De bonis, & malis sensus non iudica [...]; quid utile sit, quid inutile, ignorat. The plea­sures of these things are touched, and dead at an instant, the estimation of which, hath made mee repugne that [Page] ordinary speache, and opinion of the worldes. He is a glad man, hee hath a sonne: or his sonne is come home: or he hath an vnexspected inheritance befal­len him, truly I will not deny but these occurrentes wil breede a tickling kinde of pleasure, but of ioy they cannot, for it is a more solid thing, and ariseth frō an vnderstanding that is able to iudge, such contentmentes eternall, which the circuit of a narrow imagination can by no meanes grant to these. Of feasts, assemblies, and delights purchased by the wantonnes of to much store, which are not onely named pleasures, and de­lightes, but are euen confessed by the gossips of sensuality to be those bles­sings that make life pleasāt, & to which they apply life: Who out of the expe­rience of almost the circuit of the Sun, seeth not these pleasures either vomit­ted out by the body, or the conscience, and those licorus intertainers plagued with as much thirst, or vnsauory tasts as earst with the famine of desires. Were [Page] that true excellency in them, that opi­nion hath seduced Imagination to be­leeue, who would thinke that power that giues vs both them, & our selues, would be so hard as to exempt himselfe from so material, & excellēt a blessing? But I take myselfe here in a fault of to much earnestnes, making the clearenes of light questionable, with bringing in proofes; no question, but ioy, & pleasure differ much, pleasure being so fading, as if not preserued by the mēory it would hardly last so long as her picture were a drawing: but ioy beeing the reward of vertue hath all one nature with vertue, which is eternity. Husbandry defines profit well, for he accountes that profi­table that is lasting, but my profit out­liues his, for it is eternall, and excelleth him once more, for this profit is both excellēt & lasting, where as his things lasting, craue helpe of a grose, & thicke substātialnes. This profit vertue, which we mistake, when we accoūt a dry mo­rose life, that is so trust vp in forme, & [Page] that it is voyde of all contentment; & no, we looke vpon the least part of ver­tue when we looke but vpon her coun­tenance, & vpō the worst to, I may saf­ly say, for though she showes not her teeth in a laughter, yet I wil be bound, her possessor is more laden with con­tentment, and her conuersation more sweete, and pleasing, then the merriest light-headed conceite, or he whose constancy, to company hath purchased the name of a good fellow. To obtaine which rich adorner of life, there are e­specially two meanes; A selfe obser­uation, which (me thinkes) a Garden formed▪ but not planted▪ to plant it, ex­ample is the speediest meanes, for the way of precept is more long, and labo­rious, then that of example, obseruati­on two wayes purchaseth her perfecti­on, by that of a mans selfe, and others: so example two waies, by the good, & the bad, which last meanes though the Lacedemonians did vniustly vse with [Page] loosing one for another, as some Al­chimistes purchase their Elixer with as much charge as gaine, surffeting their slaues to make their freemen tempe­rate, yet that meanes omitted, volunta­rily there wil be enough found to make this medicine, for the world will neuer be so barren, that good men shall not finde more ill, then they can make vse of. To him that will profit by the obseruation of himselfe, must be set vp a marke, reckening from which, he may know his owne profession; as an eye on the sea reaching to the land by some steeple, or tree of stature, gesseth of his iourney. Propound ver­tue the end of your course, recken those innate affections most praedomi­nant, and dangerous the miles, which you must ouercome before the dis­patch of your iourney, and from one of these to another shall you rightlye measure your proceedinges I accept of no other intentes but the obtayning [Page] of vertue: for to intend the raising of the body, & to put the minde to drud­gerie for his sake, is full of perill and folly, as we say in English, It is to set the Cart before the horse. They are the disease of the body these thoughts, and no more to be beleeued or followed, then the thoughts of a man in a bur­ning feuer. There must bee a course propounded, for a minde full of thinks and holes, powres out it selfe vnprofi­tably, and spends faster then he gets: his determinations for want of resolu­tion are all monsters, some headlesse, some leglesse, some blind, some dease, none with their right shape, or chri­stendome; for it is not enough for the Painter to haue colours, hath he not a solid Idea in his fancy? his colours may showe colours, but neuer agree so wel, as to beget proportion. Euery man hath not all affections, the iourney were then longer then we should haue light to performe it, but commonlie [Page] they goe in couples, and though they all wish themselues most power, yet their natures beeing a kin, they agree better, and diuide the spoile: so pride, and couetousnesse: pride is content to giue couetousnesse leaue to worke the Vsurer, and in the meane time she go­eth to the prodigall, and prepares him fit to feede the vsurer, and when shee, hath burnt him to Ashes, and durte, then goeth she to vsurie, and deuides him with couetousnesse: in the meane time pride is a lazie effeminate imper­fection, couetousnesse a miserable in­dustrious vice.

He that is touched with any of these, or others of like natures, let him strict­lie examine their gaines and their los­ses, if hee findes them transitorie, vn­safe outwardly, inwardly torments, full of vexation, and disquietnesse, what an vndiscreete choise dooth hee make of his companions? To performe this surely, let him obserue others, [Page] and especially those whose nearenesse of fashion, and life [...]eme to confesse a likenesse: here he seeth truely, (if euer he wil do iustice it is here) how he fals, how he riseth, what is becomming, what disgracefull, to the least spot, moale, or wrinckle, shall he be able to discerne in this Glasse, whose reflecti­on deciphers more clearely, then his owne feeling, for there parciallity will corrupt wit, and make her an ad­uocate of an ill title. Thus much for obseruation, whose circuit wholely to incompasse, would make this writing fault of mine vnpardonable, for it is a body of a great bignesse, and rich in solid wisdome, but deciphered by my pen, it would be thought a Ghost, for my stocke set on the tainterhookes, can giue it but shape, not substance. It is the most precious licour in the world the most working, and powerfull, all o­thers are not comparable: for hearbes, and mettalls, and mineralls, and the [Page] rest of the Chimick ranke, are fetched from some 1.2. or 3. simples, and are good for one, or two things, if they speake of more they are suspected for impostors: but the licour of obseruati­on is the whole world distill'd, which is good for the whole worlde, for all things troubling either minde, or bo­dy. Omnia rerum omnium si obseruen­tur, iudicia sunt, et Argumentum morum ex minimis quoque licet capere. I know none better at this, then the author of this sentence Seneca, who in his Epis­tles (the worke, of all he wrought in most estimation with me) makes light obseruations continually beget serious discourse: as when he fetcheth from his blind foole (who was perswaded he could see) the blindnesse of all men in the seeing their imperfections. Mee thinkes the right vnderstander of ex­ample vseth the world like a stage, mē like comaedians, for though he makes least account of a stolne marriage, of [Page] an ammorous young man, of a father as much in loue with his mony, as his sonne with a wench: of a huffing brag­gart, and a gouty Leno; yet euen from these he fetcheth some implementes of his building, but more from the Tra­gicall matters of Princes, where the, play is more deepe, and more earnest, where men being come to the ripen­ning, and haruest, giue the beholders a more liuely representation of vertue, & vice, then the coldnesse of precept, which is rather a muster, then a skir­mish. Who will beleeue mee so well that Aches, and sicknesse thriue best when resisted? as if Plutarch tels them, Caesar with a falling sicknesse was no longer idle then sencelesse: instruct sureliest that are both represented, and rewarded in the beholders sight. I doe not thinke there is so leaden, and coun­terfet a spirite liuing that would not giue his hand for Scaeuolas action, who punished himselfe (saith an Author) [Page] more seuerely for not killing Prosenna, then Prosenna him for attempting to kill him. There is this force in precept, but how would a scholler fly from his maister that should goe about to per­swade him to burne of his hand? yet performed it lookes not madly, but beautifully, and surely, I thinke this gallant fellow did it more by the helpe of his discourse, then his bodies wil­lingnesse, for I verily beleeue his body loued his hand better then his coun­erey, and it is not to bee blamed for it, it was nearer a kin to him, and his na­turall occupation to thinke none so precious as the partes of himselfe. Now let me see Gluttony, Luxury, and wanton Dissolutenesse bee con­tent to bee throwne out of their Kingdome with Nero, to be despised of the whole worlde, to couer his face from the eyes of men, not to dare to liue, and yet affraide to dye, to beg death at the hands of his seruannts, [Page] to crie out in the end, Nec amicu [...], nec inimicum habeo ▪ I do not thinke, but the most hardened peece of vice, though contented to haue gone with him a great while together, would leaue him now, and serue him as flatterers do po­uertie. But who knowes not, that hath not all his vnderstanding moulten by vice, that deserts and rewardes, are ap­pendices one vpon another, and as in­seperable as heate and fire. We heare this without example, as wee see the peeces of things rent from the bodie, without any note, or obseruation: but if this goeth so to, there is left only the medicine of experience which (as Phi­sicians say) in states desperate, either killes, or cures. Questionlesse from the liues of men there are great matters to bee fetched: It is a liuing Booke, by which Princes & great men may with least difficulty gather instructions for the managing their liues, but it is to be done carefully in matters particular, for [Page] those performed long since, v [...]altered, can hardly fit our time, where not one­ly states, but euen the verie constituti­on of men, and their reaches are chan­ged. I haue beene content thus farre to talke stoically, a profession I confesse, contrary to my nature, who a [...] easilie bent, and wrested: It is a profession re­iected by the world, and reason, for some part of their doctrine strayeth from Christiantie: but where it may be tolerated a nature able to maintaine the ciuill warres of his own resistance, and that findes a possibilitie of being at last victorious, shall do well to per­seuer: for there can be no life safe, which if not wholye the enemie of hope, and feare, yet that borrowes not some rules from their precepted, Talis est sapiens animus, qualis mundi status super Lunam, semper illi [...] serenus est. Who would not buy this hapines with thinking of euery thing truely as it is? no other way dooth he obtaine it, for [Page] be doth but buy thinges as they are worth, & part with them as he bought them: vertue being his marke, other things passe like bette [...], but the maine is vertue, which both in the seeking, and obtaining, strengthens her pursuer with such honest, and vnderstanding thoughtes, as from nothing here, can he receiue either a gaine, or losse. Here then must be the foundatiō of a states­man, who must learne this lesson if hee meane to doe well, for being a great Gamster in the world, alwayes in those either gaines, or losses, should he thinke them so, and be either throwne downe; or lifted vp vppon the suc­cesse, his life would be distracted, and be able to do nothing for his coun­try, for laughing, or chasing. But when truth, and vertue haue rooted thēselues in him; when his discerning shall bee come to that perfection that he seeth the map of nature to the life as it is: when his discourse shall bee come to [Page] that strength, that it seeth the inward graces of the minde are so full, and compleat, that they can take no additi­on from the world: and that againe they are so solid, and firme, as by no time, nor occasion they can be dimi­nished, (for Vertus non potest Maior, aut minor fieri) then let him in Gods name yeeld his country his strength, & his time,, for then neither victories can puffe him vp, nor ouerthrowes deiect him: he lendes himselfe, and other, not pitty but assistaunce, and weepes not for his owne losses felt, no more then for Hecubaes, seene in a picture, hee hath met with an excellent workeman and his squared falling (howsoeuer cast) right, and fumely. Thus is ver­tue, whome though I neuer sawe so fastned to any man, as (lending not a little partialitie to trueth) I might call him a vertuous man: yet we haue diuers that haue done wel, and though we had not, yet in our imaginations [Page] where things liue in their greatest pu­rity, and florishing) we can see nothing but mā, that is capable of vertue: for we pay all other things (doing any thing extraordinarily) with the name of in­stinct, a word giuen vs to (I thinke) by the name of instinct: for it is like a wrastlers sauing a fall with a foiling: for we taking vpon vs to be wrastlers with the misteries of nature, saue our­selues, with the name of instinct, a de­gree of Ignorance more guilty then plaine ignorance, for here it is impu­dent, and saues it selfe with a worde, not reason. I haue yet spoken of vertue in grose it is now time to speake of her particuler workinges, how shee man­nageth the seuerall occasions that doe befall her: and first to the meanes of rising. It is not now the world, where the sauing a Romaine Citizen shall be rewarded with a crowne of honour, and still beare a token of his desert a­bout him, and by the helpe of t [...]at im­print [Page] his action more deepely in the memories of m [...]n: nor is there such an equalnesse in states that all mens acti­ons are seene with a like iudgement. It were pittie it were so now, for Pride would ruine all in a moment: the hu­mour of preferring our country before any thing else is spent, the world af­fordes not a Curtius: we hold most of their vices, but what supressed their vi­ces, and kept them in awe, we haue not. Shame, honour, and a noblenesse in all their customes, wherewith the Grecian & Romaine cōmonwealthes wrought their greatest wonders, are now like a morning mist ouercome by the rayes of wit. Our time is the noone time of the world, theirs breake of day, or the gray morning as wee call it. You shall hardly finde a father now a daies, that will care rather how his sonne is dead, thē dead, that prizeth his valour dearer then his life, yet in times past, mothers had that hardines that they hated more [Page] that hee should bee wounded in the backe, then dead. It is not so now, no [...] I thinke it not necessary, for the spirite of these times ioyned with their de­serts would beget to good a particu­lar opinion, which would distemper gouernment, whose flourishing, stādes vpon the motion, of the inferior orbes in their right place, obedience not ex­amination being their destined func­tions. It stands now with the iustice of a state, to draw the reward of vertue from his country, it being not so perti­nent that the desert of one be honou­red, as the examination what the sub­iect is vpon whom this is laid: for may this reward increase his estimation be­yond the power of suppressing, whatsoeuer he doth, that he may do much, is dangerous: his nature, his power, his birth are circumstances to be wayed with no lesse care, then the not suffe­ring his valour, or wisedome to goe a­way empty fisted. This hath made me [Page] wonder at the impudent follie of such, as I haue often heard to extoll their owne desertes, as to call their country, ingratefull▪ alas no the power of one man is to feeble euer to make his coun­try his debtour they are traitors to their country that dare protest this, and mindes too mercenarie to be of worth. Rather we are obliged to our countrey, that vnder the Ensigne of her authori­ty we may exercise our vertue▪ for only in her behoofe, or quarrell, it is law­full for vs to spend our time, and ad­uenture our liues: for in another state hee is an hierling, and his indeuours belong to couetousnesse, or vaineglo­ry. Two Germane princes, the one of them a seruant of the Romaine state the other their enemy, meeting vpon an enterueiw, of the Romaine parts be­ing demaunded by the other how hee lost his eye, answered, in the quarrell of the Romaines▪ being asked how re­compenced, he told of Garlandes of [Page] victory, and other liberties [...] him; the other laughed at the basenesse of his brother that solde his bloud for such trifles. Had he lost it in the [...] of his countrie, this mouth of reproche had beene stopped, it beeing an action so iust, and so worthy, as farre over va­lueth either an eye or a life. A vertu­ous maide needes no perswasion to this, it beeing the first lesson of vertue to her disciples, to flie a mercenary ga­ping after rewarde, so indifferent shee stands for the applause or honour of the world, receiuing outward testimo­nies of gratuitye▪ rather to satissie the giuer, & not to seeme a despiser of his fauour, then needing giftes, honour, or riches: so for her imploiment labour­ing truly where she is set, not appoint­ing the worlde, which roome is mee­telt for her. I confesse a strangenesse in this position, & that from some minds I take hereby euen the very spirite of their indeuours: but such minds know [Page] how wauering and perplexed they liue, so crushed and battered with gi­uing liberty to hope and feare, as their life is no life but the harborer of liuing griefes, or a ship of glasse nauigating in the sea of errors, as the Poet saith;

There needes no great examination of this: for euen their very behauiour giues purblinde sights knowledge of their continuall suffering, which, who can get vertue to remedy, and to be his champion, against these hatefull be­reauers of contentment, he will short­lie crie out.

I wish to a minde that desires to carie his life euery way graciously, not vnder the colour of recreation, to giue any sports leaue to possesse him too much. [Page] I remember Terence makes a Father commend his sonne, that all those things were esteemed of him equally, and not too much, which he reioyced in, and he had good cause, for they are things of too light a colour to bee worne by grauitie, they spend much time, a thing not of the least cōsequēce, for either himselfe, or his country still needs it, it lightens the minde, & filles it with thoughts of pleasure and gam­ing: it is the entrance of corruption, for who resists riches, is often taken by a meaner thing fitting his pleasure.

If I should tell you, that the fighting game of Quailes was Anthonies ouer­throwe, it would be thought fetcht a great waye about: but it is truth that Augustus ouer-comming him in those wagers, gaue an entrance to the per­swasion of his flatterers, that his spirite was obscured by Caesars, and that hee should speed better whē more remote: so that hee left Rome, and went into [Page] Aegipt, left temperance, & fell to sen­suality, which if you will not graunt this the cause of: yet can it not be de­nied for a motiue more attractiue then the occasion was worthy of. The body must haue recreatiō, but it is to haue it in my opiniō, but as Phisick for neces­sities sake. But we must goe no farther in this then the auoyding, which with­out a great power in himself none can do, it being naturally in men, violently to run from one extreame to another. Let not this shunning pleasure destroy affability grauity is not boud to frowne and bite his lip: this becomes singula­rity the destroyer of the loue of others: neither so strictly is the life to be orde­red, as shall make men flie your imita­tion. Good is to be done in a common wealth, not onely by Iustice, but by perswasion: to meete the humours of men sometimes, gaines men: and the putting of authoritie, & vsing familia­rity, preuailes as much, as the bloodiest sentence of Iustice, whose seuerity oftē [Page] makes offendours obstinate, which though it endes with the smart of the accused, yet doth it discredit gouerne­ment as much to haue many put to death, as it doth a Phisitiō to haue ma­ny patients perrish vnder his cure. Of flattery the bane of vertue, and the des­tinated disease killing greatnesse, eue­ry one can speake, though few avoide, The good Augustus that mannaged principallitie as fairely as it was possi­ble for a man vnasisted by diuinitie, was taken heere, but the safest that might be, I cannot finde that suffered it to lay hold of his wisedome, or go­uernement, but it catch'd him by the eyes, for he loued well that other eyes should confesse a weakenesse to his, & not be able to behold them long Gau­debat si quis sibi acrius contuenti quasi ad sulgorem solis vultum submistures. The extremitie of this seldome comes but from meane estates, whom if they bar from such altberty of speaking as may giue oppertunitie to adulation, they [Page] may preuent this daunger: If it come from such as wee holde friends, their life and honestye examined, will tell what they meane. Anthony whome I late mentioned, was deceiued by such as would tell him of his faults, but so little of them mixed with so many praises, as their reproofes seemed but like sharpe fauce to make him deuoure their commendations more hungerly. But this was a cunning trick, and those lesse cunning are hardly auoyded, since they meete so right with the generall inclination of man, selfe-loue, as com­monly they speake no more then wee thinke. The last and best remedy that I know, is that which was giuen me by the worthiest friend I haue, by way of aduise: when commended, examine vnpartially your owne deserts, where if you finde not what is laide to your charge, note that toung for the instru­ment of flattery. I cannot thinke of a better remedy, only I must say, it is not [Page] to be done without vertue, for all the examinations of vice are partiall & cor­rupt. For friends there is no safety but in honest mē, for others will betray vs, if not by our selues, yet with himselfe, for becoming once his friend, wisdom, nor forecast, nor the discrying danger ought keepe vs frō perishing with him. I holde it no lesse vnsafe to choose one onely for greatnes, for we make choise of them but for our owne sakes, which they are apt enough to find, & as apt to make vse of vs to their owne profit: we may fall with these, but our rising is in their power: thus the friends of Seia­nus when Tiberius had discryed him, paide deerly for their nearenesse. Here a power to descrye into the natures of men, is of great importance, but it is a power as difficult, few being worthy of knowledge, that withall haue not an a­bility to obscure their defects: where­vpon one saith;

To finde out the secret passages of a mans nature, I deuise not to talke so much with him as with his man: his chamber actions discouer more then his appearance in assemblies. I like no­thing better in Montaigne, then his de­sire of knowing Brutus priuate actions, wishing more to know what he did in Tent, then in battaile, for there beeing himselfe, not ouerawed by respect and company, he spreds himself open, and in this corner giues a discerning eye a more liberall view, then whē he stands vpō the allowance of the generall sight of men. Of serūats now I hold it neces­sary to speake; an assistance well vsed assisting, but to be handled carefully; & to be chosen with as great regarde: for the imploying, these shewes thē many things, which were it possible to bring to effect without their knowlege, were the better. I haue elswhere mentioned their vse: now I will speake of three [Page] things cōcerning thē. The first, the dis­posing thē according to their natures.

Of this with nothing so excellent an happinesse am I able to speake, as doth that Maister-peece of English, which in a light Historye meanes the most graue matter, I meane the Arcadia, where the besieged Amphialus teach­eth the vse of seruāts & inferiours most exactly there shall you finde constitu­tions fitted with charges and imploy­ments according to their nature, & the disability of one man for al places. The second care must be, that their imploi­ments be not matters of the greatest consequence, reserue these for your selues: for not to bee able to manage matters of waight breeds pride in the imployed, and to the lookers on, dero­gates from your authoritie. The last, & [Page] not least of importance is the carriage of your rewards and punishments: this is the thing that giueth lords good ser­uants or bad: I like well to let them see all their faults, hardly let all be impar­donable though not punished with au­steritie. In capitall offences chide not, but let them feele sharply what it is to be disobedient or rebellious. Talke not with them but vpon occasion: let them at no time haue idle talke: bee a good Maister, not a familiar: and let thē haue all their due largely, but pa [...]ed with the hand of seueritie. For rewards it is the life of their action, and they must bee taught to do wel thus, but let them nor know how much they haue done, but extenuate the seruice as much as safely you may, & reward them not present­lie, but rather when it shall looke alto­gither like your bountie. Of olde ser­uants make great account, & giue their brused bones meanes to liue their after life in rest: I do religiously hold this, for [Page] we owe him much that giues vs his youth: and surely there is no greater inhumanity, then to make vse of the fresh time of a man, and turne him out in the colde, and winter of his age. This I finde generally to be the force of vertue, that all her proceedings fall out most safely: for ingratitude a lim of her contrarye, leaues destitute them that are knowne so barren: if the earth should bee so to the paines of the hus­bandman, we should starue: If riuers, so to their father the ocean, his libera­litie to the thirstie earth would make her poore: but nature hath made her creatures more louing, and assisting to one another, therfore is the vngratefull man to be termed a monster. Pitty and humanity, where benefits binde not, must binde: thus come all the vnder states of a states-man to chalenge his aide, the plenty of vnderstanding, and riches, wherein hee surmounts these, is giuen him, because he knowes how to [Page] imploye them best, they are put in his hands not to keepe from them, but to keepe them frō excesse, that ignorance would fall into, if at his owne directiō. These need onely Iustice, & to be kept from want, which is the charge of high fortunes: but thē it must be done meer­ly for their benefit, not to purchase po­pularity, which is an humor full of dan­ger, & no profit, a breeder of vainglory in himselfe, and suspition in others. The priuate communication of great men with their Prince is the last for outward matters: the last, because I will speake of no more: for otherwaies the tur­nings and occasions of this life are so infinite, that if euery man that hath written of the matter, were a million of Authors, and all so imployed, more could not be spoken. Howsoever his maisters familiaritye may promise a libertie of behauiour, yet neuer to ap­proche him without due reuerence: what euer hee is, yet being a Prince [Page] he is to be reuerenced, and not be prac­tised against, as a wise Author saith, Good Princes are to bee desired, but howsoeuer they are, to be obeyed. It is the duty of a faithfull seruant to tell his maister of his faultes, I meane of such seruāts, as a Prince thinks meet for their wisdome, to bee assisters of his gouern­mēt, but he must watch fit oportunity.

Plato holdes him a worthy counsai­lour, that is adorned with these three qualities, honesty, wisdom, & boldnes▪ that his aduice bee safe, hee must haue honesty; that sound, wisdome; that gracious, boldnes. Neuer is aduise to be ministred in the time of the fruition of what you meane to inueigh against, but then when the smart of the errour ioyneth with you in perswasion. This fault was Clytus in, when he openly in­ueighed against drunkennesse, in the middest of Alexanders quaffings, hee [Page] dyed for it, which though Alexander lamented in his sobriety; yet could not that reuiue him againe, but is an exam­ple, how circumspectly a seruant must deale with his Prince. Now to the in­warde minde, by the which as by the fertilenesse, and heate of the soyle, the children of her wombe flourish: All vaine hopes are to be abandoned, as the perswaders vnto all vncertainety and perill. I am not moued against Nero for any thing more (excepting his Quiri­sters occupation) then at his credence giuen to a fellowe, that tolde him of great treasures that lay hidden in Affri­ca, vpon hope of which he dissolutely consumed those he possessed. Certain­lye these hopes can neuer enter but in­to a vicious brest, which often resistes reason when shee would looke into it, with these vaine hopes. Ambition al­so buildes vpon such groundes, and thinkes not vppon any thing that it would, but it beleeues it shall, whose [Page] reasons were they laide open, would appeare such feeble impotent things, as the meanest reache would rather laugh at, then feare.

Besides the rest of the miseries of man that comes from thence, Feare the most terrible and abhorred thing of Nature hath here her originall, which with his inwarde trembling, and di­stracted motions, hinders also all pro­ceedings and intents: for feare makes euery thing looke like himselfe, to a­uoide which, he heapes mischiefe vp­on mischiefe, blood vpon blood.

Thus intermixt, and intangled with all horrors, are those liues, that are con­tent to entertaine the desires of vndi­rect aspiring: these hopes neuer goe without feares, and they neuer without ill effects: thus doth hee outwardlye heape vpon himselfe the detestation of the worlde, and his owne thoughts make him detest himselfe.

To auoide this, I know no way but vertue, which so filles, as where she is, nothing else is sought: take from, or adde to her, shee is still her selfe, like a circle whose bignesse or lightnesse alters not his forme, but his space. Besides, where as the defects of men [Page] in times past to vphold their reputati­ons, were faine to perswade the world falsely of their communication with the Gods, and to belye their mothers with the adultery of Iupiter, her esti­mation shall not need these deceits, for the life of her Possessor will show he is diuinely discended, and her counsels shall bee held so sincere, as they shall be accepted without the subornation of the nimph Egeria,

Esay. 48. Of Wordes.

I Like no Relation so well, as what mine eye telleth me: for there is in speach, as in sūptuous building, many entries, landing places, and Lucomes commaunded more for formalities sake, then for conueniency: so ands, and ifs, and many sounding words stuffe vp empty periods with winde. Natural­ly [Page] we carry matter better then wordes, in which nature tells vs, shee vseth words but for an interpretour, because our ignorance vnderstandes not her Language, which puttes vs to a great deale of paine, and makes vs go a great way about in our inquisition of know­ledge: for there is lesse drosse in the let­ters of nature, then in words, the sub­stāce of Bookes: for the apparition of naturall obiectes carries not such a cō ­pany of circumstaunces: for the eare is more deceiued with soundes, then the eye with colours. That same Eupho­niae gratia the maintainer of pratling, what is it but to feed the auditory, with Dishes dressed by the painter, not the cooke? for they may say they are satis­fied, when examined what they had, it proues a painted shoulder of mutton; sulciae solue, multum mali sub illis latet. It may proue ill, but if not so, Anatomize the wordes of these adorers of wordes, and they proue nothing, which is the [Page] next degree to ill. Seneca commendes his friende that he heares nothing of him, Quod pleri (que) ex his quos interrogo, nesciunt quid agas: To my friend, I would say, that they know not what thou thinkest, because seldome spea­king: for my thoughtes are dearer to me then any actions; performing any thing, it is the giuing thoughtes bo­dies, and sending them into the world. There was a knight of Rome put to death for translating a dreame of his into wordes, had hee not better haue suppressed his daungerous imagina­tion, and taught another thought to haue killed this, then to haue throwne it out of his breast by the violence of his tongue? I dare be bound his mother if she were aliue at that day, wished he could neuer haue spoke, for mothers like nothing in their children so wel as life: but his punishment was to se­ueare, his tongue had beene losse en­ough, for that had beene the capitall [Page] Traitour. Is not this a dangerous iudg­ment that betraies the whole life for the trespasse of one lim? had it not bin better for him to haue vsed the tonge for a taster, then a distributour? yes, questionlesse. For speach lesse daun­gerous then this, is good for nothing but to pull speach from others: for willingly (were the company fit) most of my wordes should be interrogation, but when I were at this charge I would be glad to meete with those whose ex­pence of matter should equall their number of wordes. Truth hath fallen vpon it so often, & so commonly, that it is a receiued precept, not to trust a great talker with your secrets, for they haue such a disease of wordes, that like fier they will feede vppon them­selues if they want sustenaunce: so that you must feede him continual­lie like a Woolfe, or else hee de­uours you, and after himselfe, for he loues nothing so well as wordes. [Page] If he had performed it without diuul­ging, I should haue liked the custome of Pallas, the manumized slaue of Clau­dius, who protested Nihil vnquam se domi nisi nutu, aut manu significasse: It was a good course: for wordes to infe­riours, and seruants, draw on familia­ritie, and familiarity robbes masters, and Lordes of their dominion, & rule. If we were now, as wee were once, though speach should bee superfluous (for all should haue beene good, and I thinke then, all knowledges should haue seene trueth in a like quantitie) yet it had not beene so daungerous: for our vices are the Ocean, our wordes the Barkes transporting, and trafficking sin with him, and imperfection with imperfection: so that multitudes, and Assemblies (where talke turnes the minde outward) are as perillous to an honest minde, as to receiue education in a Bordello. Heardly shall a man meete with a tongue in these places [Page] speaking either honestly or temperatly, for either speaking ill, or too well, takes vp all mē, flattery or slaūder ingrossing the whole body of speach: & either he is a worthie fellow, for I am much be­holding to him; or very vnworthy, be­cause I am not beholding to him what an impudency of the worlde, is this, where men dare protest the summe of vertues, or vices, rests in mens confor­ming them selues to their humours? what is this but the confounding of all goodnesse, & benefit of societies with including in themselues the estimati­on of all, and allowing nothing that workes not for their priuate satisfacti­on? me thinkes other creatures wan­ting this are as happy as a licentious disposition wanting wealth: for by this meanes they knowe but their owne infirmities, and goe no farther, then natures infusiō giues them leaue; but men by the helpe of speach draw the corruption o [...] others into them­selues, [Page] & ad to their naturall infirmities millions of imperfections. I heare men speake daily, but not a day in a month finde myselfe bettered by their speach, but contrarily haue euery day such a company of ragges throwen into my braine, that I wish my selfe deafe all the weeke long but on Sundayes: for then deuotion, and the Booke in a diuines hand, and his being a di­uine, drawe me to worke somewhat out of my hearing, bee he neuer so lame in his function. How often haue I seene occasion offer company a vse of their tongue that might haue bet­tered their mindes, but as often almost respected, and inforced vnderstan­dinges able to haue mounted heigher to goe with them in the durt, and made the weather, the season, or some chaunce consume the preci­ousnesse of time, and so broken vp with ouerladen stomackes and emp­ty heades to the shame of reason, and [Page] her seruaunte speache? where the soules of men are more strong, and skilfull, there hath vainity so plyed them, as many there are of prettie abilities, that trust as much to the sounding of their wordes, as some women doe to white and red, for the painting of their faces, and end no petition, without a compelling the company to applaude it, with turning their eyes to the lookes of their auditory.

Was it not this that made Demos­thenes put stones in his mouth to amend some iarring noise of his voyce, and to talke to himselfe in vaultes? What a follye was this of a wise man? or if not folly, wickednesse, for either he meant to seduce the people with the melody of his tongue, or if not, hee thought smooth speaking of more price then it is: for sure among wisemē where speache is to most purpose, [Page] the licour is not refused because in earth or wood, for reason is reason, as well squeaked as sung. I do not thinke, but Demosthenes when his voice was most cracked, spake as sweetly as Ba­laames Asse, yet he being giuen speach by the giuer of all things, and reason by the giuer of all reason, his speache was to purpose; and so no question, might Demosthenes vntunable voyce haue beene without ballasting his mouth. But this is not against speache, but speakers: for speache may bring home good Merchandize, if in a wise Merchants bestowing, and is without question a Touch-stone, discouering aswell wisemen as fooles: marrie I thinke fooles speake more then wise­men: to shunne which name I will do my best, and therefore will say no more.

Esay. 49. Of Iustice.

IN all, I in them whome honour and good opiniō haue left without note, there is a naturall touch of iustice, they cānot determine safetie to themselues without it. The plant of a particuler preseruation set by nature, becomes after the tree of Iustice in the soile of policie: the first regarde giues it life, the last growthe and flourishing; selfe-loue inuiting him to loue, reason mak­ing his loue generall. When the world in his greenest time laye in the armes of ignorance, thus much was knowne; they then measured things by the touch, and sacrifized themselues to ex­perience, they had no presidents before them, whose diligent obseruation hath giuen power to these last begotten ages, to prophecie of euents, and to see [Page] them long before they feele them. It was then but rough hewen, it is now polisht, it was not then, because re­garde tooke charge but of one, it is now, because their loues are commixt, and euery one ventures in the barke of the common good: Thus farre, of Iustice naturall parentage. Her other side is diuine, euen so farre fitting the constitution of men; as he of a soule and a bodye, so shee of proffit and ho­nestie.

The other that would beholde no­thing with that care that himselfe, by this is taught to regarde a more no­ble proffit, that is honestie, to giue euery man his due, beeing full of the diuinitie of the heauenly nature. Pro­fite is deuided into the obteyning peace, and plentie. Peace (the nou­rishing warmthe,) by whose rayes, states stretch out their armes, and en­ioye a perpetuall Summer) liues not without the nourishment of Iustice, [Page] and by Iustice liues without the drop­sie of excesse; for armes are taken, when equitie is resisted, and excesse purged by discipline▪

Different are the courses of Iustice, betweene the offences forreine and domestique: on these without shee must smile, vppon those at hoame looke plainlie. Standing on the ranck of companions, they must be perswa­ded; for where strengthes are equall▪ it is safer to aduenture the wi [...], then those forces that once ouerthrowne are not easily repaired.

Plentie is to be wished and sought [...]fter, to defend forraigne inuasions, and to eschewe home discontent­ments; for the name of power is the best oratour to perswade peace, and plentie takes away the vennom inci­dent to men in neede, for there is noe poyson soe stronge and fatall to a state, as to haue many poore. To [Page] the supreame and highest part of iu­stice, there belongs a power to dis­corne trueth, to be able to penetrate in­to the secrete and couered actions of men, after to goe according to that knowledge free from partialitie. The first must be ioyned to an honest incli­nation, or else he hath but one eye, and beeing so defectiue, is meeter to obey then gouerne, he may doe well, but it shall bee well by chaunce: a com­passe too vncertaine for Iustice so saile by.

This knowledge hath two lims; the knowledge of the lawes, the know­ledge to moderate lawe. For those written opinions of Iustice, are often so enfeebled by time, or construction, as for all their faire precence, they kill insteed of curing. But an abilitie to be­holde things ambiguous with the true fight, giues the time, the persons, and other circumstances, leaue to expound themselues; and reconciles the expo­sition [Page] of the law and question, by boy­ling them together in the fire of a wise vnderstanding. Partialitie may come from feare, loue, or gaine; but since they meete in the disease, and bring foorth all one sicknesse, it shall be my furthest to say, it confounds all the beautie and happinesse of societies, be­ing the dissoluer of those bands and fastnings, that gaue safetie to the pas­sengers of the worlde, which by this is rent in peeces, and the whole number of her inhabitants are drowned in the gulfe of calamitie.

Essay. 50. Of Flattery, Dissimula­tion, and Lying.

THere is hardly a fellow, though he can minister no further then the tooth-ake, but will giue Antidotes [Page] against the plague. I would they could finde outsome drug, or drudges fel­lowe that a man might handle vice without infection. I desire it, for feare the drawing this picture be not of the nature of ill eyes, that make sound, ill; and diuell wise labour for nothing but to make all soules leuell with them. I must confesse I am the veriest bung­ler at this flattery that euer welded tongue; and not hauing natures good­will to set vp, I haue shunned to bee prentise to it, because I regarde no­thing (that exactes not regard) with that feruencie, that I doe libertie. But since I am fallen into an Inckpot, and that these papers I vse onely to make me cleane, I will speake of flattery as a thing that I haue hard spoken of, but was neuer acquainted with. The heart is the tongues maister, in her trauailes she vsed this instrument for interpre­ter, by the helpe of this she traffickes with the world, and trauailes thorow [Page] the sundry regions of dispositions. All this time it is well, but now when the thoughtes goe east, and tongue west, theres the disease. This is plainely sprung from a fainte harted cowardise, that is the head of this pudle, and from that head come these three, Flatterie, dissimulation, and lying. Plutarch saith that the flattered haue the disease of ouerliking or else they could neuer bee surprised; & I thinke so to, for an exact, and stricte Iudge of himselfe smells the straight. It is the false reflection of our one thoughtes that abuseth vs. What neede then haue they (that desire not to mend, but paint ouer their consti­tutions) to hire any other workeman saue their owne sweete imaginations certainely they neede not, except they desire witnesses of their follie, and so call in those breath-sellers, and perfu­mers. A people certainelye that earnd their fauorers dearely, being the basest, and most groueling mindes that it is [Page] possible for the honest imagination to descend to, that suffer gaine to trans­forme them into all shapes, looke how you will, if you will, he will looke like you; doe what you will, and warrant him that he shal not be called to an ac­count before the generall account, he will do it, shall I make an end of this pcture quickly? They are creatures that will not spend a drop of loue vpon any but themselues, they are creatures that haue no other god but pleasure, & haue sold their soules for clothes, & meate, and countinance, not natures children, but dame Needs and base desires. The subiect of this venom, that hath eyes, and yet seeth not, is in a worse state, for besides that he is a looser by time, by whom discreation in spight of his hart is a gainer; (for wisedome is more precious then youth) hee looseth the vse of himselfe, for he can not goe without his trumpeter, a counterfeit fame.

[Page]Hee groweth dull if he bee not hourely new whetted by his flatter­rer, out of countenaunce if he bor­rowes not the tongue of men to goe a iourney of his praise; in a worde, a substaunce that fetcheth his merit [...] from the shaddow of vaine glory; and a lasie worke man that cals for his hire, before he hath begunne his worke. But to make this monster more por­table, it is best to cut him into seuerall peeces.

There is a selfe flatterrer, a flatter­rer of others in hope of gaine, flatter­rers by exchange; then, flattery for Princes, for the vulgar, for rich men. The most subiect to selfe flatterie, are schollers before they arfledge; for there is no such cherisher of the imaginati­on as are letters, this proceedes from a little wit and no iudgement. They are like beggars that a smal sum makes in opinion infinitly rich; but time reco­uers them from the most part, for either [Page] they are not worthy to beare that litle, or else they betray not their riper yeres to this enemie of reformation. Some­times meaner professions get it, but it is seldome, except they be rich, and the rich commonly keepe seruauntes, which besides their other offices, may now and than scratch their maisters itching mindes, and not leaue the bur­den onely to himselfe.

These giue their vices names not odious, and then looke vpon them for the essentiall parts of vertue; th'easiest reasons that can be are by them recei­ued, not looking into the reason, but whether their reason be content to a­low of their courses. The next that are not borne fit for the intertainement of this ambition of the halfe blood, worke iorney worke, and giue an o­ther the ware, and trust themselues onely to their [...]ite; they extoll, and [Page] cōmend all, their shall not be so vilde a weede belonging to Macenas that he giues not excellent qualities to, and gildes not ouer as trim as a Brides rosemary.

But who would be content to draw such vile formes? had I not made a match with the world that I would not spare any part of her crackt inhabi­tants I would euen here begin to re­pent with ending, but I haue promised and will through; And because I loue to suffer as well as execute, I haue written; let them take my papers, and doe with them what they will. Suffe­rances of some kinde are holesomer then reuenge. Now the last are like horses that rub one another by consent, not so able as willing to maintaine a flatterer; they admire one another and [Page] dame vp their wants with a mutuall seruice; he calls him wise, the other him valiant, he sweares, the other sweares, and so ouercome with the o­pinion of their plot, they passe assem­blies, increasing the number of their follies, not praises. Easily can-not so­ueraigntie distinguish betweene hu­mility, and flattery; for subiects that ought to prostrate themselues in the lowest kinde to make their speaches follow full of reuerence and respect, haue vnder this a fit opportunity to co­uer flattery, but the paying their duties is not. When one comes more particu­larly & personally on, is the danger of which Princes must be so carefull, as of procuring an enemie that can strike him and goe inuisible. The vulgar that build vpō the breathes of one another, and know no more how to examine, then to loue constantly, are like an af­ter game at Irish, that is wonne and lost diuers times in an instant, they are [Page] vnmethodicall, hardly to be caught by one forme, any in truth wil do it. Speak them faire, and begin, courteous rea­der, if you speake brethren & compani­ons of my fortune, if you will say, gen­tlemen, it may doe well, for a pesant reading it will thinke you meant him. Amiable lookes and faire wordes will goe farre in [...]igh, flattery of the cour­sest kinde will serue them, being won commonly more by lucke then cunn­ing. Dissimulation is more tollerable; in some courses necessarie, as if a man be fallen vpon a wife that he cannot loue, yet he must vse her well, and if he cannot performe the expresse com­maundement, yet at least to come as neare as he can. Other times it may come very neare honestie to dissem­ble a mans intentions, as in cases of re­uenge, where it giues a pause, and that pause makes roome for consideration, that in the heate of bloud is euer deni­ed audience; and if it neuer come to [Page] that perfection, yet it makes oportuni­tie of his counsell, who fashions a re­uenge that he may be a sauer by. This dissimulation is a very pretty worke­man, and not so base minded as flatte­rie, he cals not night, day: nor badde, good: but is a skilfull manager of time and beares himselfe as cunningly, and as warmly as the sunne when he ouer­came the wind in maister Esops moral. Lying (the refuge of runnagates) and the ingrossers of vices of the meanest price, are so hardened by the continu­all hammering of some beastly humor, as they looke not so much as vpon a probabilitie, but beate away repen­tance, and remorce, with palpable vn­truthes. There is another kinde of peo­ple, that builde a certaine reputation with beeing the Chronicle [...]s of vncre­dible relations, maruailes impossible to swallow without faith. The vanitie of these is impardonable, giuing precious truth, for base leasings. One more there [Page] that tell vntruths, and yet are preserued from lying, by the aedequation be­tweene their tongue and heart, these are onely hurtfull to [...] suffering in themselves [...] the imputation of rashe ignorance. For all my disallowance [...], I am not so nice, that (if I had anything about me worthe the praising) I would not be content to haue it allowed, I to my face allowed. I would be content, euen my selfe I thinke might speake it without ostentation, for truthe is truthe, in spight of customes hart. But I am not furnished with a strength able to ouercome this receiued opini­on, and for mine owne parte I like it well, and so doe more; for our weake­nesse is concealed, because the disco [...]erie of a mans owne vertue is called ar­rogancie.