Epistles Volume 1, Decade 1 – Title page
¶ The First Decade.
EPIST. I. To Jacob Wadsworth, Lately reuolted, in SPAINE. EP. I. Expostulating for his departure, and perswading his returne.
HOw vnhappily is my stile changed! Alas, that to a friend, to a brother, I must write as to an Apostate, to an aduersary! Doth this seeme harsh? You hauehave turned it, by being turned, your selfe. Once the same walles held vsus in one louing society: the same Diocesse, in one honorable function: Now, not one Land, and (which I lament) not one Church: You are gone, we stand and wonder. For a sheepe, to stray through simplicitie, is both ordinarie and lamentable: but, for a shepherd is more rare, more scandalous. I dare not presume ouermuch, vponupon an appeale to a blinded conscience. Those, that are newly come from a bright candle into a darke room, are so much more blinde, as their light was greater; and the purest Yuorie turneth with fire into the deepest blacke. Tell vsus yet by your old ingenuitie, and by those sparks of good which yet (I hope) lie couered vnderunder your colde ashes; tell vsus, What diuided you? Your motiues shall once be scanned before an higher barre. Shame not to hauehave the weake eyes of the world see that, which once your vndeceiuable Iudge shall see, and censure. What saw you, what heard you a-new, that might offer violence to a resolued mind, and make it either to alter, or suspend? If your reasons be invincible; informe vsus, that we may follow you: but if (as they are) slight and feeble; returne you to vsus: returne, and thinke it no shame to hauehave erred, iust shame to continue erring. What such goodly beautie saw you in that painted, but ill-fauoured strumpet, that should thus bewitch you so to forget your selfe, and contemne the chaste louelove of the Spouse of your Sauiour? I saw hir, at the same time in hir gayest dresse: Let my soule neuer prosper, if I could see any thing worthie to command affection. I saw, & scorned: you saw, and adored. Would God your adoration were as farre from superstition, as my scorn from impietie. That God iudge betwixt vsus, whether heerein erred: yea, let men iudge, that are not drunke with those Babylonish dregs. How long might an indifferent eie looke vponupon the comicall and mimick actions in those your mysteries that should be sacred, your magicall exorcismes, your clericall shauings, your vncleanly vnctions, your crossings, creepings, censings, sprinklings, your couzening miracles, garish processions, burning of no one-day, christning of bells, marting of pardons, tossing of beads, your superstitious hallowing of candles, wax, ashes, palmes, chrisme, garments, roses, swords, water, salt, the pontificall solemnities of your great master, and what-euer your new mother hath, besides, plausible, before he should see ought, in all these, worthy of any other entertainment, than contempt! Who can but disdaine, that these things should procure any wise Proselyte? Can not your owne memorie recount those truly religious spirits, which hauing sought Rome as resolued Papists, hauehave left the world as holy Martyrs; dying for the detestation of that which they came to adore? Whence this? They heard & magnified that, which they now saw, and abhorred. Their fire of zeale brought them to the flames of martyrdome. Their innocent hopes promised them Religion: they found nothing but a pretence; promised deuotion, and behold idolatrie: they saw, hated, suffered, and now reigne; whiles you wilfully, and vnbidden, will lose your soule, where others meant to lose, & hauehave found it. Your zeale dies, where theirs beganne to liue: you like to liue, where they would but die. They shall comfort vsus, for you: they shall once stand vp against you: while they would rather die in the heat of that fire, than liue in the darknesse of their errors; you rather die in the Egyptian darknesse of errours, than liue in the pleasant light of truth: Yea, I feare, rather in another fire, than this light.
Alas! what shall we looke-for of you? Too late repentance, or obstinate errour? Both miserable. A Spira, or a Staphylus? Your friends, your selfe, shall wish you rather vnborn, than either.
O thou, which art the great shepheard, great in power, great in merciemercy, which leauest the ninetie & nine to reduce one, fetch home (if thy will be) this thy forlorne charge: fetch him home, driue him home to thy fold, though by shame, though by death. Let him once recouer thy Church, thou him, it is enough. Our common Mother I know not whether more pities your losse, or disdeignes thus to be robb'd of a sonne: Not for the need of you; but hir owne pietie, hir owne louelove. For, how many troups of better informed soules hath shee eueryevery day returning into hir lap; now breathing from their late Antichristianisme, and embracing hir knees vponupon their owne? She laments you, not for that she feares she shal misse you; but, for that she knowes you shall want hir. See you hir teares, and do but pitie your selfe as much as she you. And, from your Mother, to descend to your Nurse; Is this the fruit of such education? Was not your youth spent in a Societie of such comly order, strict gouernment, wise lawes, religious care (it was ours: yet, let me praise it, to your shame) as may iustly challenge (after all brags) either RHEMES, or DOVVAY, or if your Iesuites hauehave any other Den more cleanly, and more worthie of ostentation? And could you come out fresh, and vnseasoned, from the middest of those salt waues? Could all those heauenly showers fall beside you; while you, like a Gedeons fleece, want moisture? Shall none of those diuine principles, which your youth seem'd to drinke in, checke you in your new errours? Alas! how vnlike are you to your selfe, to your name? Iacob wrestled with an Angell, and preuailed: you grapple but with a Iesuite, and yeeld. Iacob supplanted his brother: an Esau hath supplanted you. Iacob changed his name for a better, by his valiant resistance: you, by your cowardly yeelding, hauehave lost your owne. Iacob stroue with God, for a blessing: I feare to say it, you against him for a curse; for, no common measure of hatred, nor ordinary opposition, can serue a reuolter: Either you must be desperatly violent, or suspected. The mighty one of Israel (for he can do it) raise you fallen, returne you wandred; and giuegive you grace at last to shame the Diuell, to forsake your stepmother, to acknowledge your true Parent, to satisfie the world, to saue your own soule. If otherwise; I will say of you, as Ieremie of his Israelites (if not rather with more indignation) My soule shall weepe in secret for your reuolt, and mine eyes shall drop downe teares, because one of the Lords flocke is carried away captiue.
To my Lord and Patron, the Lord DENNY, Baron of Waltham. EP. II. Of the contempt of the world.
MY Lord: my tongue, my pen, and my heart, are all your seruants; when you cannot heare me, through distance, you must see me in my Letters. You are now in the Senate of the Kingdome, or in the concourse of the Citie, or perhaps (tho more rarely) in the royall face of the Court. All of them places fit for your place. From all these, let me call off your minde to hir home aboue; and, in the midst of businesse, shew you rest: If I may not rather commend, than admonish, and before-hand confesse my counsell superfluous, because your holy forwardnesse hath preuented it. You can affoord these, but halfe of your selfe: The better part is better bestowed; Your soule is still retired, and reserued. You hauehave learned to vouchsafe these worldly things, vse, without affection; and know to distinguish wisely, betwixt a Stoicall dulnesse, and a Christian contempt: and hauehave long made the world, not your god, but your slaue. And, in truth (that I may loose my selfe into a bold & free discourse) what other respect is it worthy of? I would adore it on my face, if I could see any Maiestie, that might command veneration. Perhaps, it loues me not so much, as to shew me his best. I hauehave sought it enough: and hauehave seene what others hauehave doted on; and wondred at their madnesse. So may I looke to see better things aboue, as I neuer could see ought heere, but vanitie and vilenesse.
What is fame, but smoake? and metall, but drosse? & pleasure, but a pill in sugar? Let some gallants condemne this, as the voice of a Melancholike scholar: I speake that which they shall feele, and shall confesse. Tho I neuer was so, I hauehave seene some as happy as the world could make them: and yet I neuer saw any more discontented. Their life hath beene neither longer, nor sweeter, nor their heart lighter, nor their meales heartier, nor their nights quieter, nor their cares fewer, nor their complaints. Yea, wee hauehave knowen some, that hauehave lost their mirth when they hauehave found welth; and at once hauehave ceased to be merrie and poore. All these earthly delights, if they were sound, yet how short they are! and if they could be long, yet how vnsound! If they were sound, they are but as a good day betweene two agues, or a sun-shine betwixt two tempests. And if they were long, their honie is exceeded by their gall. This ground beares none but maples, hollow and fruitlesse; or, like the banks of the dead sea, a faire apple, which vnderunder a red side containes nothing but dust. Euerie flower in this garden either pricks, or smelles ill. If it be sweet, it hath thorns: & if it hauehave no thorns, it annoies vsus with an ill sent. Go thē, ye wise idolatrous Parasites, & erect shrines, and offer sacrifices to your god, the world; and seeke to please him with your base and seruile deuotions: It shalbe long enough ere such religion shall make you happy. You shall at last forsake those altars, empty and sorrowfull. How easie is it for vsus Christians, thus to insult ouer the worldling, that thinks himselfe worthy of enuy! How easie to turne off the world with a scornfull repulse; & when it makes vsus the Diuels proffer, All these will I giuegive thee, to returne Peters answer, Thy siluer and thy golde perish with thee! How easie to account none so miserable, as those that are rich with iniurie, and grow great by being conscious of secret euils! Wealth and honour, when it comes vponupon the best termes, is but vain; but, when vponupon il conditions, burdensome. When they are at the best, they are scarse friends; but, when at the worst, tormentors. Alas! how ill agrees a gay coat, and a festered heart? what auailes an high title, with an hell in the soule? I admire the faith of Moses: but, presupposing his faith, I wonder not at his choice. He preferred the afflictions of Israel, to the pleasures of Egypt; and chose rather to eat the Lambe, with sowre herbs, than all their flesh pots: For, how much better is it to be miserable than guiltie? and what comparison is there betwixt sorrow and sinne? If it were possible, let me be rather in hell without sinne, than on earth wickedly glorious. But, how much are wee bound to God, that allowes vsus earthly fauors, without this opposition! That GOD hath made you at once honourable and iust, and your life pleasant and holy, and hath giuen you an high state with a good heart; are fauours that looke for thanks. These must bee acknowledged, not rested in: They are yet higher thoughts that must perfect your contentment.
What God hath giuen you, is nothing to that he means to giuegive: He hath beene liberall; but hee will be munificent. This is not so much as the taste of a full cup. Fasten your eies vponupon your future glory, and see how meanly you shal esteeme these earthly graces. Here you command but a little pittance of mould (great indeed to vsus; little to the whole:) there, whole heauen shall be yours. Heere you command, but as a subiect: there you shal raigne as a King. Heere you are obserued; but sometimes with your iust distaste: There you shal raigne with peace and ioy: Heere you are noble among men; there, glorious amongst Angels. Heere, you want not honour; but you want not crosses: there is nothing but felicity. Heere you hauehave some shortioies: there is nothing but eternity. You are a stranger heere: there at home. Heere Satan tempts you, and men vex you: there Saints and Angels shall applaud you, and God shall fill you with himselfe. In a word, you are onelyonly blessed heere, for that you shall be.
These are thoughts worthie of greatnesse: which, if we suffer either imploiments or pleasures to thrust out of our doores, wee doe wilfully make our selues comfortlesse. Let these stil season your mirth, & sweeten your sorrows, & euer interpose thēselues betwixt you & the world. These only can make your life happie, and your death welcome.
To my Lord HAY, H. and P. EP. III. Of true Honour.
MY Lord: It is safe to cōplain of Nature, where Grace is; and to magnifie Grace, where it is at once had and affected. It is a fault of Nature, and not the least, that as shee hath dimme eies, so they are mis-placed. Shee lookes still, either forward, or downward; forward to the obiect shee desires, or downward to the meanes: Neuer turnes her eies, either backward, to see what shee was; or vpward, to the cause of her good: Whence, it is iust with God to withhold what hee would giuegive, or to curse that which he bestowes; and to besot carnall mindes with outward things, in their value, in their desire, in their vse: Whereas true wisdome hath cleere eies, and right set; and therefore sees an inuisible hand in all sensible euents, effecting all things, directing all things to their due end; sees on whom to depend, whom to thanke. Earth is too low, and too base, to giuegive bounds vntounto a spirituall sight. No man then can trulie know what belongs to wealth, or honour, but the gracious; either how to compasse them, or how to prize them, or how to vse them. I care not how many thousand waies there are to seeming honour, besides this of vertue: they all (if more) still leade to shame: Or what plots are deuised to improoue it, if they were as deepe as hell, yet their end is losse. As there is no counsel against God: so there is no honour without him. Hee enclines the hearts of Princes to fauour; the hearts of inferiours to applause. Without him, the hand cannot mooue to successe; nor the tongue to praise: And what is honour without these? In vaine doth the World frowne vponupon the man, whom he meanes to honour; or smile, where hee would disgrace. Let mee then tell your L. who are fauorites in the Court of Heauen; euen whiles they wander on Earth: Yea let the great King himselfe tell you, Those that honour me, I will honour. That men hauehave the grace to giuegive honour to God, is an high fauour: but because men giuegive honour to God (as their duty) that therefore God should giuegive honour to men, is to giuegive because he hath giuen. It is a fauour of God, that man is honoured of man like himselfe: but, that God alloweth of our endeuours as honour to himselfe, is a greater fauour than that wherewith hee requites it.
This is the goodnesse of our God: The man that serues him, honours him: and whosoeuer honours him with his seruice, is crowned with honor. I challenge all times, places, persons: who euer honoured God, and was neglected? Who wilfully dishonoured him, and prospered? Turne ouer all Records, and see how successe euer blessed the iust, after many dangers, after many stormes of resistance, and left their conclusion glorious; how all godlesse plots, in their loose, hauehave at once deceiued, shamed, punished their Authour. I goe no further: Your owne brest knowes, that your happie experience can heerein iustifie God. The world hath noted you for a follower of vertue; and hath seene how fast Honour followed you: Whiles you sought fauour with the God of Heauen, hee hath giuen you fauour with his Deputie on Earth.
Gods former actions are paterns of his future: Hee teaches you what hee will doe, by what hee hath done. Vnlesse your hand bee wearie of offering seruice, hee cannot either pull in his hand from rewarding, or hold it out empty. Honour him still, and God pawnes his honour, on not failing you. You cannot distrust him, whom your proofe hath found faithfull. And whiles you settle your heart in this right course of true glory; laugh, in secret scorne, at the idle endeuours of those men, whose policies would out-reach God, and seize vponupon honour without his leaue. God laughs at them in Heauen. It is a safe and holy laughter, that followes his. And pitie the preposterous courses of them, which make Religion but a foot-stoole to the seat of aduancement; which care for al things but heauen; which make the world their standing marke; and doe not so much as roue at God. Many had sped well, if they had begun well, and proceeded orderly.
A false method is the bane of many hopefull endeuours. God bids vsus seeke first his Kingdome; and earthly things shall finde vsus, vnsought. Foolish nature first seeks the world: and if she light on God by the way, it is more than she expects, desires, cares for; and therfore failes of both, because she seeks neither aright. Many had been great, if they had cared to be good; which now are crossed in what they wuld, because they willed not what they ought. If Salomon had made wealth his first suite, I doubt he had been both poore and foolish: now, he asked wisdome, and gained greatnes: Because he chose well, he receiued what he asked not. O the bountie and fidelitie of our God! because we would hauehave the best, he giues vsus all: Earth shall wait vponupon vsus, because we attend vponupon Heauen.
Go-on then, my Lord, go-on happily to louelove religion, to practise it: let God alone with the rest. Be you a Patterne of Vertue; he shall make you a Precedent of Glorie. Neuer man lost ought, by giuing it to God: that liberall hand returnes our gifts, with aduantage. Let men, let God see that you honour him; and they shall heare him proclame before you, Thus shall it be done to the man whom the King will honour.
To Mr. NEVVTON, Tutor to the Prince. EP. IV. Of Gratulation, for the hopes of our Prince; with an aduising apprecation.
SIr, God hath called you to a great and happie charge; You hauehave the custodie of our common Treasure: Neither is there any seruice comparable to this of yours; whether wee regard God, or the world. Our labours, oft times, bestowed vponupon many, scarse profit one: yours, bestowed vponupon one, redounds to the profit of many millions: This is a summary way of obliging all the world to you. I incourage you not in your care: you hauehave more comfort in the successe of it, than all words can giuegive you. The very subiect of your paines would giuegive an heart to him that hath none. I rather congratulate, with you, our common happinesse, and the hopes of posteritie, in that royall and blessed issue. You hauehave best cause to be the best witnes of the rare forwardnesse of our gracious Master: and I hauehave seene enough, to make mee thinke I can neuer be enough thankful to God for him. That Princes are fruitfull, is a great blessing; but, that their children are fruitfull in grace, and not more eminent in place than vertue, is the greatest fauor God can doe to a State. The goodnesse of a priuate man is his own; of a Prince, the whole worlds. Their words are Maxims, their actions examples, their examples rules. When I compare them with their royall Father (as I do oft and cheerfully) I cannot say whether hee be more happie in himselfe, or in them. I see both, in him, and them; I see and woonder, that God distributes to naturall Princes gifts proportionable to their greatnesse. That wise Moderatour of the world knowes what vse is of their parts: he knowes that the head must hauehave all the senses that pertein to the whole bodie: And how necessarie it is, that inferiours should admire them no lesse for the excellencie of their graces, than for the sway of their authoritie. Whereupon it is, that he giues heroicall qualities to Princes: and, as he hath bestowed vponupon them his owne name; so also he giues them speciall stamps of his owne glorious image. Amongst all other vertues, what a comfort is it to see those yeeres, and those spirits stoope so willingly to deuotion? Religion is growen too seuere a Mistresse for yong and high courages to attend. Very rare is that Nobilitie of blood, that doth not challenge libertie; and that libertie, that ends not in loosenesse. Lo, this example teacheth our gallants, how well euen Maiestie can stand with homage; Maiestie to men, with homage to God.
Farre be it from mee, to doe that which my next clause shall condemne: but, I thinke it safe to say, that seldome euer those yeeres hauehave promised, seldome hauehave performed so much. Only God keepe two mischiefs euer from within the smoake of his Court; Flatterie and Treacherie: The iniquitie of times may make vsus feare these; not his inclination.
For, whether as English, or as men, it hath been euer familiar to vsus to fawne vponupon Princes: Tho, what doe I bestow two names vponupon one vice, but attired in two sundry sutes of euill? For, Flatterie is no other than gilded treason; nothing else but poison in golde: This euill is more tame; not lesse dangerous. It had beene better for many great ones not to hauehave been, than to hauehave been in their conceits more than men. This, Flatterie hath done: and what can it not? That other, Treacherie, spilles the blood; this, the vertues of Princes. That takes them from others; this bereaues them of themselues. That, in spight of the Actours, doth but change their Crowne; this steales it from them for euer. Who can but woonder, that reads of some not vnwise Princes, so bewitched with the inchantments of their Parasites, that they hauehave thought themselues Gods immortall, & hauehave suffered themselues so stiled, so adored? Neither Temples, nor Statues, nor Sacrifices hauehave seemed too much glory to the greatnesse of their selfe-louelove; Now none of all their actions could be either euill, or vnbeseeming; Nothing could proceed from them worthie of censure, vnworthie of admiration: Their very spots hauehave beene beautie, their humors iustice, their errors witty, their Paradoxes diuine, their excesses heroicall. O the damnable seruility of false minds! which perswade others of that which them selues laugh to see beleeued. O the dangerous credulitie of selfe-louelove, which entertaines all aduantages if neuer so euill, neuer so impossible. How happy a seruice shall you doe to this whole world of ours, if you shall still settle in that princely mind a true apprehension of himselfe; and shal teach him to take his own height aright; and euen from his childhood to hate a parasite, as the worst traitor: To breake those false glasses, that would present him a face not his owne: To applaud plaine truth, and bend his browes vponupon excessiue praises. Thus affected, he may bid vice doe her worst. Thus shall hee striue with vertue, whether shall more honour each other. Thus sincere and solid glorie shall eueryevery where follow, and crowne him. Thus, when he hath but his due, he shall hauehave so much, that hee shall scorne to borrow the false colours of adulation. Goe on happily in this worthy and noble imploiment. The work cannot but succeed, that is furthered with so many praiers.
To Sr. Thomas Challoner. EP. V. A report of some Obseruations in my trauell.
SIr, besides my hopes, not my desires, I trauelled of late; for knowledge partly, & partly for health. There was nothing that made not my iourney pleasant, saue the labour of the way: which yet was so sweetly deceiued, by the society of Sr. Edmund Bacon (a Gentleman truly honourable, beyond all titles) that I found small cause to complaine. The sea brookt not me, nor I it; an vnquiet element, made only for wonder & vse, not for pleasure. Alighted once frō that woodden conueyance, and vneuen way, I bethought my selfe how fondly our life is committed to an vnsteadie and reeling peece of wood, fickle windes, restlesse waters; while wee may set foot, on stedfast & constant earth. Lo, then eueryevery thing taught me, eueryevery thing delighted mee; so readie are wee to be affected with those forraine pleasures, which at home we should ouer-looke. I saw much, as one might in such a span of earth, in so few moneths. The time fauoured me: for, now newly had the key of peace opened those parts which war had before closed; closed (I say) to all English, saue either fugitiues or captiues. All ciuill occurrences (as what faire Cities, what strange fashions, enterteinment, dangers, delights we found) are fit for other eares, & Winter euenings. What I noted, as a Diuine, within the sphere of my profession, my paper shall not spare in some part to report; and that to your selfe, which hauehave passed a lōger way, with more happie fruit of obseruation. Euen little streames empty themselues into great riuers; and they againe into the Sea. Neither do I desire to tell you what you know not: it shall be sufficient that I relate ought, which others shall thinke memorable.
Along our way, how many Churches saw we demolished! Nothing left, but rude heaps, to tel the passenger, there had beene both deuotion and hostilitie. O the miserable footsteps of war, besides blood-shed, ruine and desolation! Furie hath done that there, which Couetousnesse would do with vsus; would do but shall not: The truth within, shal saue the walls without. And, to speak truly (whateuer the vulgar exclaime) Idolatrie pull'd downe those walls; not rage. If there had beene no Hollander to raze them, they should hauehave fallen alone, rather than hide so much impiety vnderunder their guilty roofe. These are spectacles not so much of crueltie as iustice; Cruelty of man, Iustice of God. But (which I wondred at) Churches fall, and Iesuites Colleges rise, eueryevery where: There is no City, where those are not either rearing, or built. Whence commeth this? Is it, for that deuotion is not so necessarie as Policie? Those men (as wee say of the Fox) fare best, when they are most cursed. None so much spighted of their owne; none so hated of all; none so opposed by ours: and yet these ill weeds grow. Whosoeuer liues long, shall see them feared of their owne, which now hate them; shall see these seuen lean kine deuoure all the fat beasts that feed on the medowes of Tyber. I prophecie, as Pharaoh dreamed: The euent shall iustifie my confidence.
At Bruxilles, I saw some English-women professe themselues Vestalls; with a thousand rites, I know not whether more ridiculous, or magicall. Poore soules! they could not be fooles enough at home. It would hauehave made you to pitie, laugh, disdaine (I know not which more) to see by what cunning sleights & faire pretences that weake sex was fetcht into a wilfull bondage; and (if those two can agree) willingly constrained to serue a master whom they must and cannot obey: whom they neither may forsake for their vow, nor can please for their frailty. What followes hence? Late sorrow, secret mischiefe, miserie irremediable. Their forwardnesse for wil-worship shall condemne our coldnesse for truth.
I talked there (in more boldnesse, perhaps, than wisdome) with Costerus a famous Iesuite; an old man, more teasty than subtle, and more able to wrangle than satisfie. Our discourse was long and rouing; and on his part full both of words and vehemency. He spake as at home; I as a stranger: yet so, as he saw mee modestly peremptory. The particulars would swell my Letter too much: It is enough, that the Truth lost lesse than I gained. At Gaunt (a City that commands reuerence for age, & wonder for the greatnes) we fell vponupon a Cappucine Nouice, which wept bitterly, because he was not allowed to bee miserable. His head had now felt the razor, his backe the rod: all that Laconicall discipline pleased him well; which another, being condemned to, would iustly account a torment. What hindred then? Pietie, to his mother, would not permit this which he thought piety to God: Hee could not be a willing begger, vnlesse his mother must beg vnwillingly. He was the only heir of his father, the only stay of his mother: the comfort of hir widowhood depended on this hir orphane; who now naked must enter into the world of the Cappucines, as hee came first into this; leauing his goods to the diuision of the fraternitie: The least part whereof should hauehave beene hirs, whose hee wished all: Hence those teares, that repulse. I pitied his ill-bestowed zeale; and rather wished, than durst teach him more wisdome. These men for deuout, the Iesuites for learned and pragmaticall, hauehave ingrossed all opinion, from other Orders. O hypocrisie! No Cappucine may take or touch siluer: for, these are (you know) the quintessence of Franciscan spirits. This metall is as very an Anathema to these, as the wedge of gold to Achan; at the offer whereof he starts back, as Moses from the serpent: Yet he caries a boy with him, that takes and caries it; and neuer complaines of either metall or measure. I saw, and laughed at it; and, by this open tricke of hypocrisie, suspected more, more close. How could I chuse? while commonly the least appeares of that which is; especially of that which is loath some in appearance, much more in nature. At Namurs, on a pleasant & steepe hil-top, we found one that was tearmed a maried Hermite; approuing his wisdome aboue his fellowes, that could make choice of so cheerfull and sociable a solitarinesse. Whence, after a delightfull passage vp the sweet riuer Mosa, we visited the populous & rich Clergie of Leodium. That great Citie might well be dichotomized into Cloisters and Hospitals. If I might aduenture, I could here play the Critik, after all the ruins of my neglected Philology. Old monuments, and after them our Lipsius, call this people Eburones: I doubt whether it should not rather be written Ebriones; yet without search of any other Records, saue my owne eyes: While yet I would those streets were more moist with wine, than with blood; wherin no day, no night is not dismall to some. No law, no Magistrate layes holde on the knowen murderer, if himselfe list: For three dayes after his fact, the gates are open, and iustice shut: priuate violence may pursue him, publique iustice can not: whence, some of more hot temper carue thēselues of reuenge; others take-vp with a small pecuniarie satisfaction. O England, thought I, happy for iustice, happy for securitie! There you shall find in eueryevery corner a Maumet; at eueryevery doore a Begger, in eueryevery dish a Priest. From thence we passed to the Spa, a Village famous for hir medicinall and minerall waters, compounded of Yron & Coperice; the vertue wherof yet the simple inhabitant ascribes to their beneficial Saint, whose heauy foot hath made an il-shaped impression, in a stone of his*The name of the vpper Well of the Spa. Sauenir; A water more holsome than pleasant, & yet more famous than holsome. The wide deserts (on which it borders) are haunted with three kindes of ill cattell; Free-booters, Wolues, Witches: Although these two last are oft-times one. For, that sauage Ardenna, is reputed to yeeld many of those monsters, whom the Greeks call foreign; they, Lougarous; we (if you will) Witch-wolues: Witches that hauehave put on the shape of those cruell beasts. We saw a boy there, whose halfe-face was deuoured by one of them neere the village: yet so, as that the eare was rather cut than bitten off. Not many dayes before our comming, at Limburgh, was executed one of those miscreants, who confessed on the wheele to hauehave deuoured two and fourtie children in that forme. It would aske a large volume, to scan this Probleme of Lycanthropy. The reasons, wherwith their relatiō furnisht me on both parts, would make an Epistle tedious. This in short I resolued; A substantiall change is aboue the reach of all infernal powers, proper to the same hand that created the substance of both: Heerin the Diuell playes the double Sophister; yea, the Sorcerer with Sorcerers. Hee both deludes the Witches conceit, and the beholders eies.
One thing I may not omit, without sinfull ouer-sight; A short, but memorable Storie, which the Grephier of that Towne (though of different Religion) reported to more eares than ours. When the last Inquisition tyrannized in those parts, and helpt to spend the Faggots of Ardenna; one of the rest, a confident Confessour, being led farre to his stake, sung Psalmes along the way, in an heauenly courage, and victorious Triumph: the cruell Officer enuying his last mirth, and grieuing to see him merrier than his tormentours, commanded him silence; He sings still, as desirous to improoue his last breath to the best. The view of his approaching glorie, bred his ioy; his ioy breakes foorth into a cheerfull confession: The enraged Shiriffe causes his tongue, drawen foorth to the length, to be cut off neere the roots. Bloodie wretch! It had beene good Musicke to hauehave heard his shreeks: but, to heare his Musicke was torment. The poore Martyr dies in silence, rests in peace. Not many moneths after, our butcherly Officer hath a sonne borne with his tongue hanging down vponupon his chin, like a Deare after long chace; which neuer could be gathered vp within the bounds of his lips. O the diuine hand, full of iustice, full of reuenge! Go now, Lipsius, and write the new miracles of thy Goddesse; and confirme superstition by strange euents.Histoire et Miracles, &c. Que le 8. iour du mois de Septembre audict an. 1603. estant Feste de la Natiuitè de nostre Dame, le nombre de Pelerins a estè euuiron 20000. Pag. 35. Iudge you that hauehave seene, if euer the Chapell of Halle or Zichem hauehave yeelded ought more notable. Wee met eueryevery where Pilgrimes to those his Ladies: two Ladies shall I call them, or one Ladie in two shrines? If two, why do they worship but one? If but one, why doth she that cure at Zichem, which at Halle she could not? O what pity it is, that so high a wit should in the last act be subiect to dotage! All the masculine brood of that braine wee cherished, and (if need were) admired: but these his silly virgins, the feeble issue of distempered age, who can abide? One of his darlings, at Louan, tolde mee from his owne mouth,Virgo Hallensis. that the elder of these two daughters, was by him in ten daies got, conceiued, borne, christened. I beleeued, and wondred not. These acts of superstition hauehave an inuisible father, and mid-wife: besides that it is not for an Elephant to goe three yeeres with a Mouse. It was told mee in the shop of his Moretus, not without some indignation, that our King, when he had well viewed the booke, and read some Passages, threw it to the ground with this Censure; Damnation to him that made it, and to him that beleeues it. Whether a true story, or one of their Legends, I inquire not: I am sure, that sentence did not so much discontent them, as it ioied me. Let me tell you yet, ere I take off my pen, two wonders more, which I saw in that wonder of Cities, Antwerp; One, a solemne masse in a shambles, & that on Gods day: while the house was full of meat, of butchers, of buyers, some kneeling, others bargaining, most talking, al busie. It was strange to see one house sacred to God, and the belly; and how those two seruices agreed: The Priest did eat flesh, the butchers sold flesh, in one roofe, at one instant. The butcher killed, and sold it by peeces; the Priest did sacrifice, & orally deuour it whole: whether was the more butcher? The like we might hauehave seene at Malines. Mechlinia. One Goodwin a Kentish-man.The other, an English-man, so madly deuout, that he had wilfully mur'd vp himselfe as an Anachoret; the worst of all prisoners: There sate he pent-vp, for his further merit, halfe hunger-starued for the charitie of the Citizens. It was worth seeing, how manly he could bite-in his secret want, and dissemble his ouer-late repentance. I cannot commend his mortification, if hee wish to bee in heauen, yea, in purgatorie, to bee deliuered from thence: I durst not pitie him; because his durance was willing, and (as hee hoped) meritorious: But, such incouragement as he had from mee, such thanke shall hee hauehave from God; who in stead of an Euge, which hee lookes for, shall angerly challenge him, with Who required this? I leaue him now, in his owne fetters; You, to your worthy and honourable imployments.
Pardon me this length. Loquacity is the naturall fault of Trauellers: while I profit any, I may well bee forgiuen.
To Sr. Dauid Murray. EP. VI. Concerning the Miracles of our time.
INdeede the World abounds with Miracles. These, while they fil the mouths of many, sway the faith of some, and make all men wonder. Our nature is greedy of newes; which it will rather faine, than want. Certainly, ere long, miracles will bee no wonders, for their frequence. I had thought, our age had had too many gray haires, and with time experience, & with experience craft, to hauehave descried a iuggler; but, now I see, by the simplicitie, it declines to his second childhood. The two Lipsian Ladies, the charmes of Bluntstones boy, and Garnets straw, what a noise hauehave they made! I onelyonly wonder how Faux and Catesby escaped the honor of Saints, and priuilege of miracles. Heerein you aske my sentence; more seasonably, than you hoped. For, I meant to hauehave wrote a iust volume of this subiect, and furnisht my selfe accordingly in that region of wonders; but that I feared to surcharge the nice stomacke of our time, with too much. Neither would my length hauehave ought auailed you; whose thoughts are so taken vp with those high and seruiceable cares, that they can giuegive no leasure to an ouer-long discourse. May it please you therefore to receiue, in short, what I hauehave deliberately resolued in my selfe, and thinke I can make good to others.
I hauehave noted foure ranks of commonly-named Miracles: from which, if you make a iust subduction, how few of our wonders shall remaine either to beleefe or admiration! The first meerely reported, not seene to be done; the next seeming to bee done, but counterfeited; the third, truly done, but not true miracles; the last, truly miraculous, but by Satan. The first of these are bred of lies, and nourished by credulitie. The mouth of fame is full of such blasts. For these, if I listed a while to rake in the Legends, and booke of Conformities, an ingenuous Papist could not but blush, an indifferent Reader could not but lay his hand on his spleene, and wonder as much that any man could bee so impudent to broach such reports, or any so simple to beleeue them; as the credulous multitude wonders that any should bee so powerfull to effect them. But, I seek neither their shame, nor others laughter. I dare say, not the Talmud, not the Alcoran, hath more impossible tales, more ridiculous lies. Yea, to this head, Canus himselfe (a famous Papist) dare referre many of those ancient miracles reported, and (by all likelihood) beleeued of Bede, and Gregory. The next are bredde of fraud, and couzenage, nourished by superstition. Who knowes not, how the famous Kentish Idoll mooued his eies,The Rood of Grace …t B…xley Abby. and hands, by those secret gimmers, which now eueryevery Puppet-play can imitate? How Saint VVilfreds needle opened to the penitent, and closed it selfe to the guiltie? How our Ladie sheds the teares of a bleeding vine? and doth many of hir dayly feats, as Bel did of olde eat vp his banket, or as Picens the Eremite fasted fourtie dayes. But, these two eueryevery honest Papist, will confesse, with voluntarie shame and griefe; and grant that it may grow a disputable question, Whether Mountbanks or Priests are the greatest couzeners. Viues beyond his woont vehemently tearmes them execrable and satanicall impostors. The third are true works of God, vnderunder a false title: God giues them their being, men their name: vniust, because aboue their nature; wherein, the Philosopher and the superstitiously ignorant, are contrarily extreame; while the one seeks out naturall causes of Gods immediate & metaphysicall works; The other ascribes ordinary effects to supernaturall causes. If the violence of a disease cease, after a vow made to our Ladie; If a souldier, armed with his vow, escape gun-shot; a captiue, prison; a woman trauelling, death; the vulgar (and I would they alone) cry out, A miracle! One loadstone hath more wonder in it, than a thousand such euents. EueryEvery thing drawes a base minde to admiration. Francesco del Campo (one of the Arch-dukes Quiries) tolde vsus, not without importunate deuotion, that in that fatal field of Newport, his vow to their Virgin helpt him to swim ouer a large water, when the oares of his armes had neuer before tried any waues. A dogge hath done more, without acknowlegement of any Saint. Feare giues sudden instincts of skill, euen without precept. Their owne Costerus durst say, that the cure of a disease is no miracle: His reason, because it may be done by the power of Nature, albee in longer time.*En l'an mil six cents & trois, y fureut comptez cent & trente cin{que} potences & iambes de bois de personnes boyteuses y apportées au seul espace de quatie ou cinc{que} mois. Histoire & Miracles. c. 12. p. 34. Yeeld this, and what hauehave Lipsius his two Ladies done? wherefore serues all this clamour, from the two hilles? I assented not; neither will be heerein thus much their enemie: For, as well the maner of doing, as the matter, makes a miracle. If Peters handkerchiefe, or shadow, heale a disease, it is miraculous, though it might hauehave been done by a Potion. Manie of their recoueries, doubtlesse, hauehave been wrought through the strength of Nature in the Patient; not of vertue in the Saint. How many sicke men hauehave mended, with their physicke in their pocket? tho manie other also (I doubt not) of those cures hauehave fallen into the fourth head; which indeed is more knottie, and requires a deeper discourse. Wherein, if I shall euince these two things, I shall (I hope) satisfie my Reader, & cleere the truth: One, that miracles are wrought by Satan; the other, that those which the Romish Church boasteth, are of this nature, of this authour. I contend not of words: wee take miracles in Augustines large sense; wherein is little difference betwixt a thing maruellous and miraculous; such as the Spirit of God in either instrument calles foreign,Or foreign foreign and foreign. Perhaps, it would be more proper to say, that God works these miracles by Satan: for, as in the naturall and voluntary motions of wicked men; so in the supernaturall acts of euill spirits(as they are acts) there is more than a meere permission. Satan, by his tempest, bereaues Iob of his children: yet Iob, looking higher, saith, The Lord hath taken. No Sophistrie can elude this proofe of Moses; that a Prophet or dreamer may giuegive a true signe or woonder, and yet say, Let vsus go after strange gods: Deut. 13.1.nor that of our Sauiour, who foretelles of false Christs, false Prophets that shall giuegive foreign; signes and woonders, & those great. There are some too great, I grant, for the hand of all infernall powers: by which, our Sauiour inuincibly proues the truth of his Deity: These neuer graced falsehood, neither admit any precedent from our times. As to the rest so frequent and common, for me, I could not beleeue the Church of Rome were Antichristian, if it had not boasted of these wonders. All the knot lies then, in the application of this to Rome, and our imaginary Ladie: How shall it appeare, that their miracles are of this kinde? Ludouicus Viues giues six notes to distinguish Gods miracles, from Satans; Lipsius three: Both of them too manie, as might easily be discouered by discussing of particulars. It is not so much the greatnesse of the worke, nor the beleefe of witnesses, nor the qualitie nor maner of the action, nor truth of essence, that can descrie the immediate hand which worketh in our miracles. That alone is the true and golden rule which Iustin Martyr (if at least that booke be his) prescribes in his Questions & Answers; How shall it be knowen that our miracles are better than the Heathens, although the euent countenance both alike? Resp. By the faith and worship of the true God.Ex fide & cultu veri Dei: Miracles must be iudged by the doctrine which they confirme; not the doctrine by the miracles. The Dreamer or Prophet must be esteemed, not by the euent of his wonder; but, by the substance and scope of his teaching. The Romanists argue preposterously, while they would proue the truth of their Church by miracles; whereas they should proue their miracles by the truth. To say nothing of the fashion of their cures, that one is prescribed to come to our Ladie, rather on a Friday, asPag. 7. Henrie Loyez; another, to wash nine dayes in the water of MONT-AIGV, as Leonard Stocqueau; another, to eat a peece of the Oke where the image stood,Historie et Miracles de nostre Dame. Pag. 73. Pag. 102. as Magdaleine the widow of Bruxelles. All which, if they sauour not strong of magicall receits, let the Indifferent iudge. Surely, either there is no sorcerie, or this is it. All shall be plaine, if the doctrine confirmed by their miracles be once discussed: for, if that be diuine Truth, we doe vniustly impugne these works as diabolicall; if falshod, they doe blasphem…sly proclaime them for diuine. These works tend all chiefly to this double doctrine; That the blessed Virgin is to be inuoked for her mediation, That God & Saints are to be adored in and by Images. Positions that would require a Volume, and such as are liberally disputed by others: whereof one is against Scripture; the other (which in these cases values no lesse) besides it. One Deifies the Virgin; the other, a stocke or stone. It matters not what subtle distinctions their learned Doctors make betwixt mediation of Redemption, and Intercession, foreign, and foreign, the Saint, and the Image: Wee know, their common people, whose deuotion inriches those shrines (by confession of their owne Writers) climbe the Hill of Zichem with this conceit,Examen Pacifique de la doctrine des Hugenots. O sanueresse, s…nne moy. Manuel of French praiers, printed at Liege, by approbation and authority of Anton Cheuart Inquisitor, &c. that Mary is their Sauioresion that the stocke is their Goddesse: which vnlesse it bee true, how doe their wonders teach them lies! & therefore how from God! But, to take the first at best (for, the second is so grosse, that were not the second Commandement by Papists purposely razed out of their Primiers, children and carters would condemne it) it cannot be denied, that all the substance of praier is in the heart; the vocal sound is but a complement, and as an outward case wherin our thoughts are sheathed. That Power cannot know the praier, which knowes not the heart: either then the Virgin is God, for that shee knowes the heart, or to know the heart is not proper to God: or to know the heart, and so our praiers, is falsly ascribed to the Virgin: and therefore these wonders, which teach men thus to honour her, are Doctors of lies; so, not of GOD. There cannot bee any discourse, wherein it is more easie to bee tedious. To end; If praiers were but in words, and Saints did meddle with all particularities of earthly things, yet blessed Mary should bee a God, if shee could at once attend all her Suiters. One solicites her at Halle, another at Scherpen-heuuell, another at Luca, at our VValshingham another; one in Europe, another in Asia; or perhaps another is one of her new Clients in America: Ten thousand deuout Suppliants are at once prostrate before her seuerall shrines. If she cannot heare al, why pray they? If she can, what can God do more? Certainely (as the matter is vsed) there cannot be greater wrong offered to those heauenly spirits, than by our importunate superstitions to be thrust into Gods throne; and to hauehave forced vponupon them the honors of their Maker. There is no contradiction in heauen: a Saint cannot allow that an Angell forbids. See thou doe it not, was the voice of an Angell: if all the miraculous blocks in the world shall speake contrarie, wee know whom to beleeue. The old rule was,Let no man worship the Virgin Mary. foreign: Either that rule is diuellish, or this practise. And if this practise bee ill, God deliuer me from the immediate author of these miracles. Change but one Idoll for another, & what differ the wonders of Apolloes Temples, from those of these Chapels? Wee reuerence (as wee ought) the memorie of that holy and happie Virgin: We hate those that dishonour her: We hate those that deifie her. Cursed be all honour, that is stollen from God.
This short satisfaction I giuegive, in a long question; such as I dare rest in; and resolue that all Popish miracles are either falsly reported, or falsly done, or falsly miraculous, or falsly ascribed to Heauen.
To Mr. William Bedell, at Venice. EP. VII. Lamenting the death of our late Diuines, and inciting to their imitation.
WE hauehave heard, how full of trouble, and danger, the Alpes were to you: and did at once both pitie your difficulties, and reioice in your safety. Since your departure from vsus, Reynolds is departed from the World. Alas, how many worthy lights hauehave our eies seene shining and extinguisht! How many losses hauehave wee liued to see the Church sustaine, and lament; of her children, of her pillers; our own, and forraine! I speak not of those, which (being excellent) would needes bee obscure: whom nothing but their owne secrecy depriued of the honor of our teares. There are, besides, too many whom the world noted and admired; euen since the time that our common mother acknowledged vsus for her sons. Our Fulk led the way; that profound, ready, and resolute Doctor, the hammer of hereticks, the champian of truth: whom our yoonger times hauehave heard oft disputing acutely, and powerfully. Next him, followed that honour of our Schooles, and Angell of our Church, learned Whitakers; than whom, our age saw nothing more memorable: what cleerenesse of iudgement, what sweetnesse of stile, what grauity of person, what grace of carriage was in that man ! Who euer saw him, without reuerence? or heard him, without wonder? Soone after, left the world that famous and truly-illuminate Doctor, Francis Iunius, the glory of Leiden, the other hope of the Church, the Oracle of Textuall and Schoole-diuinitie: rich in languages, subtle in distinguishing, and in argument inuincible: and his companion in labours, Lu. Trelcatius, would needes be his companion in ioies; who had doubled our sorrow and losse, but that heere compenced it with a son like himselfe. Soon after, fell old reuerend Beza; a long-fixed starre in this firmament of the Church: who, after many excellent monuments of learning and fidelity, liued to proue vponupon his aduersaries, that hee was not dead at their day. Neither may I without iniurie, omit that worthy paire of our late Diuines, Greenham, and Perkins: whereof the one excell'd in experimentall diuinity; and knew wel how to stay a weake conscience, how to raise a fallen, how to strike a remorselesse: The other, in a distinct iudgement, & a rare dexterity in cleering the obscure subtilties of the schoole, and easy explication of the most perplex discourses. Doctour Reynolds is the last; not in worth, but in the time of his losse. He alone was a well-furnisht library, full of all faculties, of all studies, of all learning: The memorie, the reading of that man, were neere to a miracle. These are gone, amongst many more, whom the Church mournes for in secret: would God her losse could be as easily supplied, as lamented. Hir sorow is for those that are past, hir remainder of ioy in those that remaine; hir hope in the next age. I pray God the causes of hir hope, and ioy, may be equiualent to those of hir griefe.
What should this worke in vsus, but an imitation, yea (that word is not too big for you) an emulation of their worthinesse? It is no pride, for a man to wish himselfe spiritually better than hee dare hope to reach: nay, I am deceiued, if it be not true humilitie. For, what doth this argue him, but low in his conceit, high in his desires only? Or if so; happy is the ambition of grace, and power of sincere seruiceablenesse to God. Let vsus wish, and affect this, while the world layes plots for greatnesse: Let me not prosper, if I bestow enuie on them. Hee is great, that is good: and no man, me thinks, is happy on earth, to him that hath grace for substance, and learning for ornament. If you know it not, the Church (our mother) looks for much at your hands: shee knowes how rich our common father hath left you: shee notes your graces, your opportunities, your imploiments: shee thinks you are gone so farre, like a good Merchant, for no small gaine; and lookes you shall come home well laded. And for vent of your present commodities (tho our chiefe hope of successe be cut-off with that vnhoped peace) yet what can hinder your priuate traffique for God? I hope (and who doth not?) that this blow will leaue in your noble Venetians a perpetuall scarre; and that their late irresolution shall make them euer capable of all better counsels; and hauehave his worke (like some great Eclipse) many yeeres after. How happie were it for Venice, if as she is eueryevery yeere married to the sea, so she were once thorowly espoused to Christ! In the meane time, let mee perswade you to gratifie vsus at home, with the publication of that your exquisite Polemicall Discourse; whereto our conference with M. Alabaster gaue so happie an occasion: You shall heerby cleere many trueths; and satisfie all Readers: yea, I doubt not, but an aduersarie (not too peruerse) shall acknowledge the Trueths victorie and yours. It was holsome counsell of a Father, that in the time of an heresie euerie man should write. Perhaps, you complaine of the inundations of Francford: How many hauehave been discouraged from benefiting of the world, by this conceit of multitude! Indeed we all write; and, while we write, cry out of number. How well might many be spared, euen of those that complaine of too many? whose importunate babbling cloyes the world, without vse. My suspition giues mee, that some may perhaps reflect this censure vponupon my selfe. I am content to put it to hazzard, and (if need be) beare it. But certeinly (mee thinks) of profitable writings store is an easie fault: No man is bound to read; and he that will spend his time and his eyes where no sensible profit drawes him on, is woorthie to lose his labour. Let others looke to their owne; I dare promise yours happy successe. Be intreated only to cast off this iniurious modestie, and suffer me to draw you forth into Pauls Church-yard, and to fetch from you some honest issue of an able minde; which suruiuing you shal stil preach the trueth when you are gone to dust. God giuegive you as prosperous a returne, as your passage was difficult; and serue himselfe of your gifts at home, and repossesse vsus of you; whom we at once louelove and reuerence.
To my Lord, the Earle of ESSEX. EP. IIX. Aduice for his Trauels.
MY Lord, both my duty and promise make my Letters your debt; and, if neither of these, my thirst of your good. You shall neuer but need good counsell, most in trauell: Then are both our dangers greater, and our hopes.
I need not tell you the eyes of the world are much vponupon you, for your owne sake, for your Fathers: Only let your eyes be vponupon it againe, to obserue it, to satisfie it, and in some cases to contemne it. As your graces, so your weaknesses, will be the sooner spied, by how much you are more noted. The higher any building is, the more it requires exquisite proportion: which, in some low and rude piles, is needlesse. If your vertues shall be eminent like your Fathers, you can not so hide your selfe, but the world will see you, and force vponupon you applause and admiration in spight of modestie: but, if you shall come short in these; your Fathers perfection shall be your blemish. Thinke now, that more eyes are vponupon you, than at home: of Forreners, of your owne; theirs to obserue, ours to expect. For, now we account you in the Schoole of Wisdome: whence if you returne not better, you shall worse; with the losse of your time: of our hopes. For, I know not how naturall it is to vsus, to looke for alteration in trauel; &, with the change of aire and land, to presuppose a change in the person. Now you are (through both your yeeres and trauell) in the forge of your hopes. We all looke (not without desire and apprecation) in what shape you will come foorth. Thinke it not enough that you see, or can say you hauehave seene, strange things of nature, or euent: It is a vaine and dead trauell that rests in the eye, or the tongue. All is but lost, vnlesse your busie minde shall, from the body that it sees, draw foorth some quintessence of obseruation; wherewith to enforme, and enrich it selfe. There is nothing can quit the cost and labor of Trauell, but the gaine of wisdome. How many hauehave we seene and pitied, which hauehave brought nothing from forraine Countries, but mis-shapen clothes, or exoticall gestures, or new games, or affected lisspings, or the diseases of the place, or (which is worst) the vices? These men hauehave at once wandered from their country, and from themselues: and some of them (too easie to instance) hauehave left God behind them; or perhaps, in stead of him, hauehave after a loose and filthy life, brought home some idle Puppet in a boxe, whereon to spend their deuotion. Let their wracke warne you, and let their follies be entertained by you, with more detestation than pitie. I know your Honour too well to feare you: your yoong yeeres hauehave beene so graciously preuented with souereigne antidotes of truth and holy instruction, that this infection despaires of preuailing. Your very blood giues you argument of safety: yet, good counsell is not vnseasonable, euen where dangers is not suspected. For Gods sake, my Lord, whatsoeuer you gaine, lose nothing of the truth; remit nothing of your louelove and piety to God; of your fauour and zeale to Religion. As sure as there is a God, you were trained vp in the true knowledge of him. If either Angell, or Diuell, or Iesuite, should suggest the contrarie, send him away, with defiance. There you see and heare, eueryevery day, the true mother and the fained, striuing and pleading for the liuing childe. The true Prince of peace hath past sentence from Heauen, on our side. Doe not you stoope so much as to a doubt, or motion of irresolution. Abandon those from your table and salt, whom your own or others experience shall descry dangerous: Those serpents are full of insinuations: But, of all, those of your own Country: which are so much more pernicious, by how much they hauehave more colour of priuilege of entirenesse. Religion is the greatest care: aduices for carriage, and improuement of trauell, challenge the next place. I need not counsell you to keepe your state, with affability; and so to manage your selfe, as that your curtesie may be more visible, than your greatnesse. Nature hath taught you this; and hath secretlie propagated it from your Father: who, by his sweetnesse of disposition, won as many hearts, as by his valour and munificence. I rather tel you, that a good nature hath betraied many; who, looking for that in others which they hauehave found in themselues, hauehave at last complained of their owne credulitie, and others deceit. Trust not Strangers too much, with your counsell, with your person: and, in your greatest familiarities, hauehave an eie to their common disposition, and infirmities. Those natures, wherewith you conuerse, are subiect to displeasure; and violent, in pursuit of small indignities. Yesterday heard I named, from no vnfaithfull report, a French Courtier, that in single combat hath sent 18. soules from the field to their place: yet he euer as the patient in the quarell; and for this, mentioned with more than excuse: I censure not how iustly. This is others care: Only hence I argue the rifenesse of vnkindenesse taken, and pursued. You shall see, that the soile is not so diuers, as the inclination of persons: who, in all Climates, though they differ in particulars, yet still agree too well in common faults. The Italian deepe, close, and crafty; the French rash; the Germaine dull. One not forward to offer wrongs: but, apprehensiue of a small wrong offered: another, prone either to take, or giuegive them; but, not vneasie to remit: another, long in conceiuing, long in retaining. What do I exemplifie? There are long Catalogues of peculiar vices, that haunt speciall places; which, if they were not notoriously infamous, my charity would serue mee to particularize: It were pity there should bee fewer vertues, locall and proper. There are good vses to bee made of others enormities; if no more, by them to correct our owne: who loathes vice in another, is in good forwardnesse to leaue it in himselfe. The view of the publike calamities, and disorders of other Churches, shall best teach you thankfulnesse for the better state of ours: But, better vse of their vertues; by how much it is more excellent to know what we should doe, than what we should not. You must now looke vponupon all things, not with the eies of a stranger onelyonly, but of a Philosopher, but of a Christian; which accounts all lost, that is not reduced to practise. It is a great praise, that you are wiser by the contemplation of forraine things; but, much greater, that you are better. That you hauehave seene Cities, and Courts, and Alpes, and Riuers, can neuer yeeld you so sound comfort, as that you hauehave lookt seriously into your selfe. In vaine doe wee affect all forraine knowledge, if wee be not thorowly acquainted at home. Think much, and say little; especially in occasions of dispraise: wherein, both a little is enough, and oft times any thing is too much. You cannot inquire too much: that, which in vsus inferiours would bee censured for dangerous curiositie, in your greatnesse shall bee construed as a commendable desire of knowledge. Aske still after men of greatest parts and reputation: and where you finde Fame no lier, note and respect them. Make choice of those for conuersation, which either in present, or in hope, are eminent: and when you meet with excellencies in any faculty, leaue not without some gaine of knowledge. What are others graces to you, if you only admire them; not imitate, not appropriate them? Loe, your equalls in time grow vp happily in the Colledge (so I may tearme it) of our yong, and hopefull Court, which you hauehave left; and aboue all, that gracious President of woorthinesse and perfection: whom while in all other things you serue, you may without reproofe emulate for learning, vertue, piety. My selfe am witnesse of their progresse; which I do ioyfully gratulate to the succeeding age. Beware, lest their diligence shall out-strip you, and vpbraid you with that ancient checke of Going farre, and faring worse. I am bolde and busie in counselling: you abound with better Monitors; and the best you carrie about, I hope, in your owne bosome. Tho these should be needlesse, yet they argue my humble affection, and discharge my dutie. My prayers are better than my counsels; both of them heartie and vnfained for your good. God guide and returne you safe, from a iourney not more happie and prosperous than I wish it.
To Sr. Robert Drury, and his Ladie. EP. IX. Concerning my Remoouall from them.
WIth how vnwilling an heart I leaue you, hee knowes that searches the heart: Neither durst I go, but that I sensibly see his hand pulling me from you. Indeed, desire of competencie betrayed me, at first; and drew mine eyes to looke aside: but, when I bent them vponupon the place, and saw the number and the need of the people, together with their hunger and applause, meeting with the circumstances of Gods strange conuevance of this offer to mee; I saw, that was but as the Fowlers feather, to make mee stoope: and contemning that respect of my selfe, I sincerely acknowledged higher motiues of my yeelding; and resolued I might not resist. You are deare to mee, as a Charge to a Pastor; if my paines to you hauehave not prooued it, suspect me: Yet I leaue you. God calles me to a greater worke: I must follow him. It were more ease to me, to liue secretly hidden in that quiet obscuritie, as Saul amongst the stuffe, than to be drawen out to the eye of the world, to act so high a part before a thousand witnesses. In this point, if I seeme to neglect you, blame me not; I must neglect and forget my selfe. I can but labour, wheresoeuer I am. GOD knowes how willingly I doe that, whether there or heere. I shall dig, and delue, & plant, in what ground soeuer my Master sets mee. If hee take me to a larger field, complaine you not of losse, while the Church may gaine. But, you are my owne charge; No wise father neglects his owne in compassion of the greater need of others: yet consider, that euen carefull Parents, when the Prince commands, leaue their families, and goe to warfare. What if God had called mee to Heauen? would you hauehave grudged my departure? Imagine that I am there, where I shall be; altho the case be not to you altogether so hopelesse: for, now I may heare of you, visit you, renue my holy counsels, and be mutually comforted from you; there, none of these. Hee, that will once transpose mee from earth to heauen, hath now chosen to transpose me from one peece of earth to another: what is heere worthie of your sorrow, worthy of complaint? That should be for my owne good: this shall be for the good of many. If your experience hauehave taught you, that my labours do promise profit; obtaine of your selfe to denie your selfe so much, as to reioyce that the losse of a few should be the aduantage of many soules. Tho, why do I speake of losse? I speake that, as your feare, not my owne: and your affection causes that feare, rather than the occasion.
The GOD of the Haruest shall send you a Labourer, more able, as carefull: That is my prayer, and hope, and shall be my ioy. I dare not leaue, but in this expectation, this assurance. What-euer become of me, it shall be my greatest comfort to heare you commend your change; and to see your happy progresse in those wayes I hauehave both shewed you, and beaten. So shall wee meet in the end, and neuer part.
Written to Mr. J. B. and Dedicated to my Father Mr. I. HALL. EP. X. Against the feare of Death.
YOu complaine, that you feare Death: Hee is no man, that doth not. Besides the paine, Nature shrinks at the thought of parting. If you would learne the remedie, know the cause; For that she is ignorant, and faithlesse. She would not be cowardlie, if shee were not foolish. Our feare is from doubt, and our doubt from vnbeliefe: and whence is our vnbeliefe, but chiefly from ignorance? Shee knowes not what good is elswhere: she beleeues not her part in it. Get once true knowledge and true faith, your feare shall vanish alone. Assurance of heauenly things makes vsus willing to part with earthly. He can not contemne this life, that knowes not the other. If you would despise earth therefore, thinke of heauen. If you would hauehave death easie, thinke of that glorious life that followes it. Certainly, if we can endure paine, for health; much more shall we abide a few pangs, for glory. Thinke how fondly wee feare a vanquisht enemie. Loe, Christ hath triumpht ouer Death: hee bleedeth and gaspeth vnderunder vsus; and yet we tremble. It is enough to vsus, that Christ died: Neither would hee hauehave died, but that we might die with safetie, and pleasure.
Thinke, that Death is necessarily annexed to Nature: Wee are for a time, on condition that we shall not be; wee receiue life, but vponupon the tearmes of redeliuerie. Necessitie makes some things easie; as it vsually makes easie things difficult. It is a fond iniustice to embrace the couenant, and shrinke at the condition.
Thinke, there is but one common rode to all flesh: There are no by-paths of any fairer, or neerer way; no, not for Princes. Euen companie abateth miseries: and the commonnesse of an euill makes it lesse fearefull. What worlds of men are gone before vsus; yea, how many thousands out of one field! How many crownes and scepters lie piled vp at the gates of death, which their owners hauehave left there, as spoiles to the Conqueror? HaueHave we beene at so many graues, and so oft seene our selues die in our friends; and do we shrinke when our course commeth? Imagine you alone were exempted from the common law of mankind, or were condemned to Methusalahs age; assure your selfe death is not now so fearefull, as your life would then be wearisome.
Thinke not so much what Death is, as from whom hee comes, and for what. We receiue euen homely messengers from great persons; not without respect to their Maisters: And what matters it who he be, so hee bring vsus good newes? what newes can be better than this, That God sends for you, to take possession of a Kingdome? Let them feare Death, which know him but as a Pursuiuant sent from hell; whom their conscience accuses of a life wilfully filthy; and bindes-ouer secretlie to condemnation: Wee know whither we are going, and whom wee hauehave beleeued; Let vsus passe on cheerefully, thorow these blacke gates, vntounto our glory.
Lastly, know that our improuidence only addes terror vntounto death. Thinke of death, and you shall not feare it. Do you not see, that euen Beares, and Tigres, seeme not terrible to those that liue with them? How hauehave wee seene their Keepers sport with them, when the beholders durst scarse trust their chaine? Be acquainted with Death, though he looke grim vponupon you, at the first, you shall finde him, yea, you shall make him a good companion. Familiaritie cannot stand with feare. These are receits enow. Too much store doth rather ouer-whelme than satisfie. Take but these, and I dare promise you securitie.
FINIS.
THE SECOND DECADE Of Epistles.