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The Art of Happiness · Francis Rous

The Art of Happiness, Part 1

THE ARTE OF HAPPINES. The first Part. Which is a search of Mans Happinesse.

CHAP. I. That the Seeker of Happinesse must propose an End, and it must be the best End.

WHosoeuer will better and aduance himself (which is naturally eueryevery mans desire) he must finde out and propose to himselfe an End which is good; and toward this End must so striue, that hee may continually draw neerer to it, vntill hee hauehave attayned it; and hee must grow in the degrees of enioying, when hee hath attayned. He that proposeth no Marke, nor mayne End to himselfe, can neuer increase himselfe, but is a man lost, and comes to nothing; such a one is like a ship that aymeth at no harbour, and therefore cannot make any voyage of aduantage. He that proposeth an End, yet such a one as is but transitorily or narrowly good, he can receiue but a transitorie and narrow aduancement. He that proposeth for an End, a seeming good, but a reall euill, may by attayning, puffe vp his imagination, but shall substantially lessen and ruine himselfe. But hee that sets before him a Marke & End truely and perfectly good, by attayning it, shall make himselfe truly and perfectly happy, and the more happy in degrees, as in more degrees hee doth enioy it. But, amidst the infinite changes of things seemingly good, how shall man finde out that one thing which is truely and perfectly good? It is indeed an impression of Mans nature, to seeke for good, but the corruption of the same nature is such, that it makes eueryevery thing seeme good to it self, which it selfe (though falsly) apprehendeth to be good. And so hence it comes, that many men run an vnsatisfied course, through diuers changes of things seemingly good, and most men choose the lesse good for the better good; yea, the most euill for the most good. But he that will seriously inquire for true happinesse, must in his inquirie lay aside▪ his bodie and the doctrines thereof; and hee must retire into his innermost, and most secret closet of Light and Reason, and there aske of his Soule assured truths and resolutions, concerning his chiefe and soueraigne Good. Yea, because the darknesse of a heauie and sensuall bodie, since the fall, subiect to corruption, hath much dimmed the light of the Soule; she hath need to returne to that vppermost Light, by which at first she was kindled, thence to receiue a second inlightning, that by an addition of the highest Light, shee may finde out her highest & chiefest happinesse. The soules thus rectified, labour, and in some measure attayne to behold things in their truth, as also to see the difference of things confounded or misordered by the ignorance of corruption, and to place each thing in his due ranke, and consequently the chief and soueraigne good, farre aboue all; as indeed to the eye of wisedome it shines in a notable and manifest supereminence. And as she giues due acknowledgment to this good, being discouered, so she calls aloud to the will and affections to striue towards it, being knowne and acknowledged, she aduiseth them to set vp their rest vponupon it, to aduenture al for it, and neuer to leaue labouring, vntill the soule and happinesse bee ioyned together.

CHAP. II. How that must be conditioned which is the end and happinesse of Man.

NOw if with such wise Searchers of felicitie wee shall make the like enquiry, examining all things in their weight and worth; we must needs meete in one Truth, Truth being but one, euen a common Center, in which all rectified vnderstandings meet. The more wise a man is, the more possession hath he of this truth; and therefore whosoeuer can challenge to himselfe to be the wisest of Men, he must also be the largest discouerer of happinesse, and with him especially shall other wisedomes meete, euen of necessitie.

Now that wee firmely ground our discouerie, let vsus first inquire what conditions that thing must hauehave which shall be the happines of Man. That which shall make Man happy, must first bee able to bestow on Man an absence of miserie: for Happinesse & Miserie cannot dwell together in one subiect. Againe, it must giuegive a man a reall possession and enioying of the chiefest good, and that in perpetuitie & euerlastingnesse. Man must possesse the soueraign Good; for he can neuer bee happy by inioying imperfection, but that only which is perfectly good, can make a man perfectly happy. He must also inioy this soueraigne Good in a perpetuitie, else the feare of losing happinesse, must needs lose part of it before it be lost; and if not so, yet he cannot be termed happy, who shall hauehave a time when hee shall be without happinesse. And surely, if wee finde a soueraigne Good which is euerlasting, it will bestow it selfe on vsus in it owne nature, euen euerlastingly. Lastly, the beatificall obiect of Man, must bee the most agreeable obiect of his most excellent part. Now, Mans chiefest part is a lightsome, reasonable, and vnderstanding spirit. Therefore that from which can issue vntounto Man the greatest ioy, must be a most wise, reasonable, and lightsome spirit; likenesse, agreeablenesse, and harmonie, being the foundations of pleasure; and consequently, the most excellent Like, powring into his inferiour Like, the most conformable, naturall, and kindly ioyes; from which ariseth an inioying, euen in perfection, contentment, & rest. Hauing thus found out some conditions of Mans soueraigne good, let vsus now seeke out that thing which beareth these conditions: to this purpose let vsus search the length and breadth, the height and depth of Essences and Beings, which if we draw into a summe, we shal finde to bee no other, then the Creature and the Creator, God and the World. Let vsus therefore inquire, which of these is qualified with the abilities of perfect felicitie.

CHAP. III. Whether the World, or part of it, be Mans happinesse. And first, of Honour.

IF wee would begin with the World, & first aske of it, whether it bee able to giuegive vsus happinesse; surely, it preuents our asking most commonly, and teacheth vsus by blowes, and not by words, that it is our miserie rather then our happinesse: euen a great treasurie of imperfections, infirmities, griefes, cares, oppressions, wickednesse, transitorinesse, and vanitie. There is in it no fit obiect for the soule, no full and stable happinesse for the body. The best things in it that concerne Man, are of a goodnesse mixt or vncontinuing. It is full of confusion; all things comming alike to all, and not the best to the best. Folly sits very often in iudgement vponupon Wisedome, or which is worse then Folly, Wickednesse; and Wisedome, and Righteousnesse are as often condemned: yea, Wickednesse hath the reward of Righteousnesse. To conclude, all things are full of change, the World still changeth her owners, and one generation driueth out another. Euen these with whom the World makes most dalliance, the same World turnes out of fauor and being; as many Princes doe their Fauourites. But if generalities, by reason of their hugenesse, may not easily enter into the narrow capacities of men: Let vsus examine some chiefe particulars and Master-pieces of the world, and so trie whether any part can bee better then the whole; or whether any part can bee free from that Law vnderunder which the whole is concluded. And surely, if the best parts of the world being examined, be found to be vanitie, and their ashes nothing; the inferiour parts must, if it were possible, bee an extremer kinde of nothing. And though many Volumes handling these things, hauehave almost preuented these latter ages of any new matter, truth in the same thing, being still the same; yet, because truth is infinite in latitude and largenesse, and all mankind is not an equall match to the breadth thereof: Let eueryevery man search for more truthes, and if he cannot finde them, he may doe well yet to ratifie and confirme the old. And first, let vsus looke vponupon Honor, a chiefe flowre of this worlds flight and false happinesse, and wee shall finde it hath iustly beene discouered to borrow valuation from opinion, & opinion it selfe is of all other a most groundlesse, mutable, vaine, and witlesse thing. It is the thought of a darke & blind multitude, which catcheth at things like mad Dogs, suddenly, rashly, and vnconsiderately; not staying for reason, or at most, onelyonly for a shew of reason. But if thy honour hauehave a better ground thy own merit, and the estimation of wise and good men, I confesse, it is then a sweete oyntment which pleaseth and delighteth the iudgement, but doth not fill and satisfie it. It is not food strong inough for the soule of a wiseman, nor for the body of a hungrie man: the mind of man still reacheth beyond it, and cryes, it is farre from being the true rest of the soule. How many sicke men, how many sad, yea but wisely seuere men hauehave looked vponupon it, and examined it when they had it, and became merrie or angrie, that they found no more in it! But I need not much trouble my selfe with examining this kinde of honour; for the World little troubles it selfe with seeking or finding it. But that which chiefly pleaseth them, is a vizzard of honour, which makes them honourable to the eyes and opinions of men, no wiser nor better then themselues. But if Fooles ride on horse-backe with this kinde of honour, and Princes for wisedome goe on foote without it; What mad good thing is this, which sets vp folly aboue wisedome? Of this I need to say the lesse: for the very Huntsmen of this honor hauehave bitterly complayned on it; they say, it leades them into many pits and downe falls, ouer many myres and dangerous precipices; the mind hath manie strong counter buffes and affronts, the conscience is forced to make wide steps for it, and to leape ouer many blocks of stumbling and offence. Againe, they complain that it keeps the heart from rest and inioying; being attayned, it is digged at by Enuie, and makes this often appeare, that it hath clymed for ruine. Finally, one degree of honour attayned, is but a degree, not a bound of the desires; and a farther honour desired and not attayned, takes away the sauour of whatsoeuer honour is alreadie gotten. Hence it plainly appeares, that there is in it little substance or solide satisfaction, since that pleaseth most, which wee hauehave not, that little, and left which we hauehave.

CHAP. IIII. Of pleasures and riches, that they are not Mans happinesse.

BVt if neglecting honour, wee looke on pleasures, to finde happinesse in them; How doe pleasures die in inioying? Their end deuoureth their beginning: their backside is more lothsome then their face is pleasant. They that are past, hauehave not satisfide; they that are to come, will bee but the same, and shall not satisfie. There is nothing left of the former, neither shall there be of the latter, but all are bounded within one and the same vanitie. Againe, pleasures neuer stand still, but while they bee, they bee lessening & going to nothing. Therefore of laughter it may bee said, Thou art mad, and of pleasure, What is it that thou doest? And surely, if we could obtayne a continued course of pleasures, through the race of a whole life, yet this only or chiefly concernes the body, but the soule hath no obiect the whiles to giuegive her any full pleasure or delight. As the body tasteth not spirituall ioyes, so the soule tasteth not bodily pleasures. Yea carnall pleasures hauehave this venom ordinarily in them, that their heighth groweth, or continueth, by the diminishing or suppression of the reasonable soule; and commonly the excellent soule is vsed but as a slaue to supply the lusts of the body with base satisfaction, whiles her selfe goes away without any wages of pleasure or aduantage; yea, shee grones vnderunder the burden of so vile a bondage; then especially sinking, suffering, and retyring, when the body enioyes his chiefest pleasures. But if sober toward pleasures, wee yet stand in reuerence of profit, after which the greatest part of the world runnes a whoring; let vsus turne our eyes from Multitude vntounto Truth, which vsually by Multitude is most forsaken. There is a sure saying, that a competent portion, fit to defend vsus from hunger and nakednesse (that is, a measure able to serue and satisfie our naturall vses) hath attayned the fulnesse of the substantiall goodnes thereof. Wee are trauayling thrugh this world to death; if we hauehave enough to beare our necessarie charges by the way, how is not superfluity rather a burthen then a comfort to a trauayler? whatsoeuer is beyond our vse, wee can but behold with our eies, or put a vaine confidence in it, which often hath deceiued those that trusted in it; for euen that which they hauehave put their trust in, hath been the same thing that hath betrayed them. Therefore it is fit that care and feare (as commonly they do) should accompanie Abundance, as well as Pride and Confidence. And if so, then what a motley and minggled happines ariseth from a doubtfull and carefull superfluitie? And surely, very commonly and very iustly the owners of this excesse, are called miserable. For, besides that it often deliuers them vp into the hands of miserie, it makes them most wretched in themselues, because most wretched to themselues. There is a beastly kinred betweene the heart of man & money, and this kinred begets such a louelove, that the heart will goe neere to starue it selfe before it will part from its most beloued obiect. Yea, money begets the louelove of money, and stirs vp the affection in such a vehemencie towards it, that pos session doth inflame the desire, and not satisfie it. Now what can giuegive rest to such a miserable Soule? when obtayning, which in other things giues some (though short) satisfaction, yet to this man it giues new appetite, farther motion, & a longer busines? yet this aboundance thus brought forth by the Mid-wiferie of torment and perplexitie, many times flyes away like an Eagle by the following generations, Folly or Luxurie; and this certainly is a great vanity and wretchednesse of riches, that they are so often left to a foolish sonne, who is lesse kin to a true wise man, then an honest stranger; that somtimes they are left to a sonne, that is no sonne, and sometimes left, and there is not a second to enioy them. Howsoeuer, left they must bee, euen all things wherin thou hast shewed thy selfe wise and industrious, and that to some who laboured not in them, to some whom thou knowest not, after two or three generations; & therefore knowest not, whether they shalbe wise or foolish, whether they shall perform thy purposes and desires with thy substance; yea, whether they shall turne it into the price of a Whore or a Dogge, which both are an abomination in the sight of Wisedome. But if riches might escape all this succeeding miserie; yet is not the present possessor of them happy. The common miserie of man laies claime to all, and will not bee bought out by Riches. Therefore the Rich man shall meete with crosses, & losses, in friends or estate; he shall be sicke in minde, and sicke in body, yea fulnesse it selfe shall make him sicke in both. And if hee might escape all this, yet riches, which are the Seruants of his body, cannot make his soul happy, which is better then the bodie: for farre be it from the soule to finde her happinesse in her seruants seruant; especially such a fugitiue vagabond & vncertaine seruant. These massie and grosse riches are too course an obiect, for a pure and spirituall Essence; they carry no likenesse or proportion vntounto it, and therefore can giuegive the soule no addition of her naturall pleasure or profit, much lesse of her perfect happinesse, wherein shee must hauehave a part, so farre greater then the body, as shee is more excellent then it.

CHAP. V. Of Knowledge.

BVT some morall Wizzard will tell mee, that Knowledge hath some high priuiledge aboue Miserie, and such a one as can giuegive Happinesse to this (in spight of it) vnhappy life. Indeede, knowledge is a dim light, which is better then very darknesse. It hath an excellency, as dawning aboue night, but though it be better, it is not that chiefe good which can make vsus happy. It may indeede bee vsed as an instrument for the discouery of happinesse, though seldome it bee put to that vse. But in it selfe neither in any thing created shall it euer be able to discouer it. Yea rather it shall finde in it selfe and in all things of this world, many imperfections, and faylings of those iust conditions, absolutely necessarie to bee found in Mans soueraign good. Our knowledge is but of a short reach; the things beyond it, are infinitely more then the things on this side of it. Therfore when knowledge is come to a supposed perfection, a speciall qualitie of it is, to know it selfe to be imperfect: euen those things which are within the compasse of it, it searcheth by piece-meale, part after part, as one that reades a great Volume in the darke with a Glow-worm; which shews him but letter after letter: so a great deale of trouble goes to a very little profit. Hence are our Sciences, but many littles pieced together while the great body of truth & wisedome stands beyond our sight; and by the incomprehensiblenesse thereof accuseth our knowledge, euen to it selfe, of weakenesse, as the glorie of the Sunne doth our eies, by dazeling them. And this magnified little knowledge which we hauehave, what extraordinarie vātage doth it bring vntounto Man? Surely, it often bestowes vexation on the owners of it, and by increasing, increaseth sorrow; for to the greatest knowledge, the vanitie and miserie of man doth present it selfe in a most full apparance; yea, great knowledges vsually take vp afore-hand euils to come, and make them present. Hence it is that many learned Philosophers hauehave vexed their liues with the consideration of their deaths, which many ignorant and sturdy Clowns without premeditation hauehave vnderunder-taken, with more ease, as missing the troubles of anticipation; & hauehave dispatched with lesse businesse and wrastling, as being hoodwinked with a blinde contentment, to doe as their fathers hauehave done before them. For this cause also some of our greatest knowers hauehave winked against knowledge, and hauehave desired that ignorance should coozen them of their griefs, to which knowledge would continually and lowdly awake them. Surely, when the knowledge of man hath discouered throughout this frame of the world, an excellent wisdome and order, when it sees that there is an excellent beautie in the face of Goodnesse, yea, some excellence in knowledge it selfe; how, must not this needes torment the heart of the knower, while the same knowledge seeth also the actions of mankinde to runne so madly and confusedly, whiles it sees Iustice, or at least Power, treading vponupon the face of goodnesse, and exalting wickednesse, while it sees an vndistinguishing chance to come vntounto all; and finally, while knowledge seeth knowledge despised, and yet not able to helpe it selfe, not any of those euils which it sees. Certainly these things are a vexation of minde to the men of knowledge, and make them lothe the works that are wrought vnderunder the Sunne, euen to hate life it selfe. And as this miserie comes of knowledge being gotten, so euen the getting of knowledge is it selfe a miserie; for vsually it is acquired by two meanes. The one is a vehement and continuall labour of the minde, which takes vp one halfe of the life, to instruct the other halfe; yea, many times knowledge is a funeral garment, al the life in working, & worne but the last iourney to the graue. A second meanes, is an extraordinarie instrument of the soule, which is called the drie beame; by which the soule seeth most cleerly & swiftly, and will dicourse out of a present apprehension, as soundly as some will doe by much studie and premeditation: but we must know that in this case, the window of the soule is vsually enlarged by the flaw of the body, and the body and minde doe often suffer some indisposition, when these beames of the soule are ouer-actiue. Hence may we truly ghesse, that such greatnesse of wit hath commonly to accompanie it some touch of madnesse or sicknesse. And now, that wee may giuegive a conclusion to the poore knowledge of man, as before it was conuinced to be a spy for griefe, while it beholds the confusion, miserie, and vanitie of this world: so may wee truely say, that it can neuer be an Intelligencer of happinesse, while it suruaies the beautie and glorie of this world, and sends vsus newes of them alone. For among the varieties of this worlds best & most excellent parts, knowledge can neuer finde any obiect worthy of the soule of man; nothing that may giuegive it the true happinesse of a soule, nor any thing that may lift vp man aboue miserie, there to giuegive him a rest of safetie and perpetuitie, yea, much rather it sees the soule made a drudge to the bodie, and trudging in the errands of corruption, wickednesse & vanitie; and if sometimes shee delight her selfe in her owne light, that light is but as the shooting of a star, for man eft-soones fals downe into his old station of grosnesse & miserie. And though sometimes it giues a man some ease in lesser euils and troubles, yet is knowledge it selfe vsually astonished with sudden encounters, euen in little matters, and commonly ouerborne with mightie tempests of greatly-sensible euils. Therefore wee may conclude, that knowledge rather shewes man that hee is ill, then makes him to be well, & it seemes that some great knowledge hath subiected man to an vnresistable reuolution of miserie, from which all lesser knowledges can neuer free him, without the helpe of the greater.

CHAP. VI. The vniuersall vanitie of the World.

BVt if in all this, I had said nothing, but that stil in spite of all that hath beene said, these and the like masterpieces of the world, would of force bestow some happinesse on Man, yet herein I cannot choose but to say something; that is, when deadly sicknesse, either casuall or naturall, commeth vponupon vsus; When the grinders are weake, the keepers tremble, and the lookers out by the windowes, yea by the windowes of the soule, grow darke; What can honor, riches, pleasures or knowledge then confer vntounto Man thus buryed in himselfe, and vncapable of any outward comfort? vponupon this consideration, that old Man did wisely, who refused the pleasures of the Court, being inuited to them; because his eare did no longer taste the sweetnesse of Musike, nor his palate did any longer rellish the sauourinesse of meate. The gates of Man are shut vp, by which the trade betweene the Soule and the World, doth passe to and fro, and therefore Man cannot traffick any longer with his old customers of this outward and visible world. But now the dregs of life are come to the spending, wherin thou shalt confesse that there is nothing but labour and sorrow. And if yet I had in this said Nothing, because some Philosophers inuented a way to preuent this miserie, by ridding themselues of themselues, yet this must needes bee something, that Death, the thaw of all cold and frozen comforts, dissolueth both thee and all thy imaginarie felicities into nothing, euen into that which such felicities do nothing concerne. Surely, whatsoeuer titles thou hast inioyed, whatsoeuer pleasures thou hast tasted, whatsoeuer riches thou hast possessed, whatsoeuer plots or inuentions thou hast cō triued or conceiued, Death cuts them wholly from thee, or thee from them; there is no more relation betweene you, neither doe they any longer concerne thee. Therefore in regard of all outward things, hath there beene a iust out-crie: What remayneth to Man of all his works vnderunder the Sunne? The dust of Man hath no feeling nor knowledge of the things of this life; neither those things which hauehave been nor those which are. Death hath digested all mans works and concernments into vanitie; vvhether hee hath beene poore or rich, wise or foolish, sad or merrie. Yea, death is most terrible to them commonly, who hauehave most sought a happinesse in the things of this life, and seemes to bee reuenged on them for this their folly & error. Therefore are the miserable and wretched most familiar with Death, and take most pleasure in it, for which reason they may seeme to bee happyer then the others. For, if present ease and pleasure sweeten all former griefe and bitternesse, but present griefe and bitternesse doth giuegive a distaste to al former pleasures; then these to whom ease and pleasure are present in the last place, hauehave a recompence and counterpoise to their sorrowes: and they to whom griefe and vexation are last of all present, feele an extinguishment of their former pleasures: and hence it seemes the miserable goe hence in some degree of happinesse, the voluptuous in a great degree of wretchednesse. Howsoeuer, bee what thou wilt, O worldling, doe what thou wilt, thou shalt goe into emptinesse and vanitie thou and thy thoughts shall perish, and … remaynes of thee in the world, shalbe of an equall condition to that mould wherein it is inclosed; and the world shall conserue thy dust no more then it doth thy fellowdust, which lyeth next vntounto thee.

CHAP. VII. What remaynes of necessitie to be the happinesse of Man.

NOw, the world being thus shut vp and bounded with vanitie, there remaynes onelyonly that highest Essence, the Cause and Fountayne of all things, in whom Man may seeke his happinesse, Man is inforced to clime vp aboue this world of vanitie, to reach his true felicitie. His soule must set vp the ladder of contemplation, & thereon shee must ascend vp to her Maker, to seeke in him a remedie of her miserie, an obiect of blessednesse, of perpetuitie. And surely, whither can shee more fitly repaire, then to the Source of her being, there to receiue a reparation of herill being, and an eternitie of well being? For hee that made Man, is in all probabilitie most able to amend Man when he is mard, yea, there is none, but he, can do it. Againe, God being the Father of Spirits, what can more reioyce them then their Father & Fountayne, by continuall supplyes of life and ioy? Now, that God is a most blessed Spirit the true beatificall obiect of Spirits blessed, his supremitie in Excellence, wisedome, and power, doe strongly perswade: and first for excellence, euen in our vulgar estimation, grosse things are base things, and puritie is accounted excellencie. Glasse is preferred before Clay, and Cristall before Glasse, and the Diamond before Cristall. Among Men, the heauie and earthly mindes are most contemned, and they that are of the quickest & sharpest spirits, are held most noble and generous: If then we will frame any conception of a transcendent and vppermost excellencie; we must also conceiue a most absolute puritie. Therefore if God bee most excellent, he is also most pure. Now what is to be thought more pure then a glorious, single, vn-compounded Essence, such as a Spirit is, and that Spirit most, which is the Cause, and Fountayne, and Father of Spirits? And no lesse doth a spirituall Essence fit best with wisdom; For wisedome being a most pure and piercing thing, which by the sharpnesse & subtiltie thereof can pierce into the most hidden and secret profundities, what Essence fitteth wisedome better, then a pure, subtill, and piercing Essence, such as is that of a Spirit? Wisedome is a light, and we find the higher any thing is sublimated, and refined, and as it were vnbodied, the more capable it is of light. So Earth, which is a lumpe of darknesse, by fire lifted vp and clarified into the purenesse of Glasse, becomes especially capable of light. And surely, if we search but a little depth into wisdome: it wil appeare to our vnderstandings to bee the child, conceiuement, and issue of a Spirit; euen of a cleere, pure, and single essence, which in their models our owne soules doe represent vntounto vsus, and teach by patterne. Thirdly, in regard of Power, as the Creator of all things must excell al things in power; so Power hath his residence most fitly and especially in a Spirit. Accordingly wee see in daily experience, that the heauie and massie things are moued and commanded by things vn-corporeall & vnseene. The huge Sea is moued to and fro in her Tides, by an inuisible and vnbodily Power. There is no hand that toucheth it, no arme that holdeth it backe, or thrusteth it forward. In liuing things, euen those that liue but a growing life, the massie part is moued in growing by a power vnuisible and vnperceiuable. In Beasts, the purest and most incorporeall part of them is that which mooueth, increaseth, and directeth their grosnesse and greatnesse. The Wind is a thing inuisible & of a great thinnesse and subtiltie. Yet in Earthquakes it teares Rocks asunder, & remoues Mountaynes; in Tempests it brings the Sea vponupon the Land, and equals Towres with their owne foundations. Surely, Power is then most pure & absolute, when it is least clogged with weight; and massines doth lode it, rather then increase it. And as it is of it selfe cleere and vncorporeall, so it cannot but proceed from a cleere, and pure Essence, things euer proceeding frō their like: and what purer then a Spirit? And to shut vp all in an experimentall conclusion: We find in our selues an excellent essence, intelligent, vn-corporeall, inuisible, vn-touchable, (which are the expressions of a Spirit) whereby many great works are performed, and thereby giuegive euident testimonies therof. If therefore there be such an essence in vsus, wee may imagine the Creator to bee purer then his worke, and therefore he must be more spiritual than we, or more then spirituall, but cannot be lesse. But be that graunted which wee seeke, that God is a Spirit, most wise, most powerfull, that can both free vsus from miserie, and giuegive vsus the true and naturall happinesse of Spirits; What auaileth it vsus that God is able to doe it, except it be done? There must bee a communication of this abilitie vntounto Man else Man onelyonly knowes where he might be happy, but knowes not that hee shall be happy. And without this knowledge, the life of Man is but a continuall feare and bondage. Wherefore it concernes vsus to make a new suruay of all Nations and all Doctrines of happines, inquiring among them, whether any of them can tell vsus the glad tydings of a communion and entercourse betweene God and Man. Let vsus diligently examine the vniuersall Teachers of knowledges, & aske whether there hath beene any act of the Creator, performed for the reparation of miserable mankind, and the deliuerāce of him from this prison of wretchednes & vanitie, into the glorious libertie of blessed Spirits. For my part (as eueryevery man is bounded with his owne knowledge) I hauehave heard or read of one alone; and that is so fully medicinable to Mans miserie, so fully sufficient to giuegive Man perfect felicity; That this is the very doctrine of happines, or else Man must still remaine a sensuall, wretched, and vnprofitable creature, which to say, were a blasphemie against the wisdom of creation. In this doctrine is God discouered to be the repayrer of his owne falne creature. And the remedie is eueryevery way equall, yea, preualent to the disease, so that it well becomes the highest God to bee the Authour thereof. And though the manner of it be not fetched from mans vaine-glorious imaginations, nor grounded vponupon Nature (GOD being able equally to be an immediate Father of Mans reparation, as of his creation of grace as of nature) yet contayneth this doctrine no vnreasonable contrarieties, or repugnances, but onelyonly things high aboue cōmon reason, such as well befit a Deitie, higher by farre then his owne creature. And notwithstanding this height, yet they that duely conuerse in this doctrine, and by meditation enter into the mysterie thereof, they, I say, shall find an excellent harmonie & correspondence between it and Mans present estate, and betweene all the parts of it selfe. For the sore of Man is so iustly couered with an answerable plaister: That it must needs be confessed, that he who framed the remedie, must bee hee alone that knoweth the secrets of the heart, euen the depth and roote of our maladie. Philosophie hath indeuoured to cure the Gangrene of Mans corruption, by cutting off the very parts corrupted, which must bee vponupon the matter, by cutting off Man from himselfe, as indeed some hauehave done, by leauing him as a meere trunke without feeling, and without affection. But this doctrine leaueth the parts whole, but mainly opposeth the corruptiō, it leaues man to be as much a man as he was, but onelyonly it so purgeth him, that hee is not so much euil, nor so much miserable as he was; yea, that at length he shall be neither euill nor miserable. And this is so strongly sealed into the heart of Man, that it leaues an euident proofe of a diuine power, accompanying and iustifying it. For none but the Creator can pierce into the hart of man, and bind his will and affections, euen against his will and affections, with such powerfull and mightie chaines, that neither the wit of Man, which hath beene fruitfull in inuentions of torment, nor the power of Emperors, which hath ruined mightie Kingdomes, could change or alter them.

Concerning this Arte of Arts, what I hauehave receiued, I purpose to deliuer to others, through his helpe, who is the Author thereof: and surely, this knowledge is only worthy of a man; other knowledges, except they serue this, they are but wearinesse and vanitie: for man is as miserable, and sometimes more, when he hath gotten their perfections, as when he entred into their beginnings. And becauseit giues a great light to Mans reparation, to know how he came to hauehave neede of it, and because it concernes the glorie of the Creator, to shew that at first he created not miserie and corruption: Therefore most fitly doth this Doctrine beginne with the first estate of man, and the losse thereof, euen a created perfection, and a purchased corruption; A learning, which all Philosophy could neuer reach. For she is the child of man, and therefore cannot tell the beginning of her owne Father. For man was before shee was, yea man was lost, before shee was found: and so shee which was since corruption, cannot tell how that corruption came which was before her, much lesse can she speake of that perfection which was againe before this corruption. But the truth is, bad she findes vsus, and not knowing the cause, she can neuer find the cure; and therefore as she found vsus, so shee leaues vsus miserable.