nothing in itself; but all things in God, and God in all things.

XXIII.

There be three usual causes of ingratitude, upon a benefit received; Envy, Pride, Covetousness: Envy, looking more at others' benefits than our own; Pride, looking more at ourselves than the benefit; Covetousness, looking more at what we would have than what we have. In good turns, I will neither respect the giver, nor myself, nor the gift, nor others; but only the intent and good will, from whence it proceeded. So shall I requite others' great pleasures, with equal good-will; and accept of small favours, with great thankfulness.

XXIV.

Whereas the custom of the world is, to hate things present, to desire future, and magnify what is past; I will, contrarily, esteem that, which is present, best; for, both what is past was once present, and what is future will be present: future things, next; because they are present in hope: what is past, least of all; because it cannot be present; yet somewhat, because it

was.

XXV.

We pity the folly of the lark, which, while it playeth with the feather and stoopeth to the glass, is caught in the fowler's net: and yet cannot see ourselves alike made fools, by Satan; who, deluding us by the vain feathers and glasses of the world, suddenly enwrappeth us in his snares. We see not the nets, indeed it is too much, that we shall feel them; and that they are not so easily escaped after, as before avoided. O Lord, keep thou mine eyes from beholding vanity. And, though mine eyes see it, let not my heart stoop to it; but loath it afar off. And, if I stoop at any time, and be taken; set thou my soul at liberty that I may say, My soul is escaped, even as a bird out of the snare of the fowler: the snare is broken, and I am delivered.

XXVI.

In suffering evil, to look to secondary causes, without respect to the Highest, maketh impatience: for so, we bite at the stone; a ndneglect him, that threw it. If we take a blow at our equal, we return it with usury; if of a prince, we repine not. What matter is it, if God kill me, whether he do it by an ague, or by the hand of a tyrant? Again, in expectation of good, to look to the First Cause, without care of the second, argues idleness, and causeth want. As we cannot help ourselves, without God; so God will not ordinarily help us, with

out ourselves. In both, I will look up to God; without repining at the means in one, or trusting them in the other.

XXVII.

If my money were another man's, I could but keep it only the expending shews it my own. It is greater glory, comfort, and gain, to lay it out well, than to keep it safely. God hath made me, not his Treasurer, but his Steward.

XXVIII.

Augustin's friend, Nebridius, not unjustly hated a short answer, to a weighty and difficult question; because the disquisition of great truths requires time, and the determining is perilous. I will as much hate a tedious and far-fetched answer, to a short and easy question. For, as that other wrongs the truth; so this, the hearer.

XXIX.

Performance is a binder. I will request no more favour of any man, than I must needs. I will rather choose to make an honest shift, than overmuch enthral myself, by being beholding.

XXX.

The world is a stage: every man an actor; and plays his part here, either in a Comedy or Tragedy. The good man is a Comedian; which, however he begins, ends merrily: but the wicked man acts a Tragedy; and therefore ever ends in horror. Thou seest a wicked man vaunt himself on his stage: stay till the last Act; and look to his end, as David did; and see, whether that be peace. Thou wouldest make strange Tragedies, if thou wouldest have but one Act. Who sees an ox, grazing in a fat and rank pasture, and thinks not that he is near to the slaughter? whereas, the lean beast, that toils under the yoke, is far enough from the shambles. The best wicked. man cannot be so envied in his first shews, as he is pitiable in the conclusion.

XXXI.

Of all objects of beneficence, I will choose either an old man, or a child; because these are most out of hope to requite. The one forgets a good turn; the other lives not, to repay it.

XXXII.

That, which Pythagoras said of Philosophers, is more true of Christians; for, Christianity is nothing but a divine and better philosophy: Three sorts of men come to the market; buyers, sellers, lookers-on. The two first are both busy, and

carefully distracted about their market: only the third live happily; using the world, as if they used it not.

XXXIII.

There be three things, which, of all other, I will never strive for; the wall, the way, the best seat. If I deserve well, a low place cannot disparage me so much, as I shall grace it: if not, the height of my place shall add to my shame; while every man shall condemn me of pride, matched with unworthiness.

XXXIV.

I see, there is not so much difference betwixt a man and a beast, as betwixt a Christian and a natural man. For, whereas man lives but one life of reason, above the beast; a Christian lives four lives, above a natural man: the life of inchoate regeneration, by grace; the perfect life of imputed righteousness; the life of glory begun, in the separation of the soul; the life of perfect glory, in the society of the body with the soul, in full happiness: the worst whereof is better by many degrees, than the best life of a natural man. For, whereas the dignity of the life is measured by the cause of it, (in which regard the life of the plant is basest; because it is but from the juice, arising from the root, administered by the earth: the life of the brute creature better than it; because it is sensitive: of a man better than it; because reasonable,) and the cause of this life is the Spirit of God; so far as the Spirit of God is above reason, so far doth a Christian exceed a mere naturalist. I thank God much, that he hath made me a man; but more, that he hath made me a Christian: without which, I know not whether it had been better for me, to have been a beast, or not to have been.

XXXV.

Great men's favours, friends' promises, and dead men's shoes, I will esteem; but not trust to.

XXXVI.

It is a fearful thing, to sin; more fearful, to delight in sin; yet worse to defend it; but worse than worst, to boast of it. If, therefore, I cannot avoid sin; because I am a man: yet I will avoid the delight, defence, and boasting of sin; because I am a Christian.

XXXVII.

Those things, which are most eagerly desired, are most hardly both gotten and kept; God commonly crossing our desires, in what we are over-fervent. I will, therefore, account all things, as too good to have, so nothing too dear to lose.

XXXVIII.

A true friend is not born every day. It is best to be courteous to all; entire with few: so may we, perhaps, have less cause of joy; I am sure, less occasion of sorrow.

XXXIX.

Secrecies, as they are a burden to the mind, ere they be uttered; so are they no less charge to the receiver, when they are uttered. I will not long after more inward secrets; lest I should procure doubt to myself, and jealous fear to the discloser: but, as my mouth shall be shut with fidelity, not to blab them; so my ear shall not be too open to receive them.

XL.

As good physicians, by one receipt make way for another; so is it the safest course in practice: I will reveal a great secret to none, but whom I have found faithful in less.

XLI.

I will enjoy all things in God, and God in all things; nothing in itself: so shall my joys neither change, nor perish. For, however the things themselves may alter or fade: yet he, in whom they are mine, is ever like himself; constant, and everlasting.

XLII.

If I would provoke myself to contentation, I will cast down my eyes to my inferiors; and there see better men, in worse condition: if to humility, I will cast them up to my betters; and so much more deject myself to them, by how much more I see them thought worthy to be respected of others, and deserve better in themselves.

XLIII.

True virtue rests in the conscience of itself; either for reward, or censure. If, therefore, I know myself upright, false rumours shall not daunt me: if not answerable to the good report of my favourers, I will myself find the first fault; that I may prevent the shame of others.

XLIV.

I will account virtue the best riches, knowledge the next, riches the worst; and therefore will labour to be virtuous and learned, without condition: as for riches, if they fall in my way, I refuse them not; but if not, I desire them not.

XLV.

An honest word I account better, than a careless oath. I will say nothing, but what I dare swear, and will perform. It is a shame for a Christian, to abide his tongue a false servant, or his mind a loose mistress.

XLVI.

There is a just and easy difference, to be put betwixt a friend, and an enemy; betwixt a familiar and a friend: and much good use to be made of all; but, of all, with discretion. I will disclose myself no whit, to my enemy; somewhat, to my friend; wholly, to no man: lest I should be more others', than mine own. Friendship is brittle stuff. How know I, whether he, that now loves me, may not hate me hereafter?

XLVII.

No man, but is an easy judge of his own matters and lookers-on oftentimes see the more. I will, therefore, submit myself to others, in what I am reproved; but in what I am praised, only to myself.

XLVIII.

I will not be so merry, as to forget God; nor so sorrowful, as to forget myself.

XLIX.

As nothing makes so strong and mortal hostility, as discord in religions; so nothing in the world unites men's hearts so firmly, as the bond of faith. For, whereas there are three grounds of friendship; virtue, pleasure, profit; and, by all confessions that is the surest, which is upon virtue: it must needs follow, that what is grounded on the best and most heavenly virtue, must be the safest: which, as it unites man to God so inseparably, that no temptations, no torments, not all the gates of hell can sever him; so it unites one Christian soul to another so firmly, that no outward occurrences, no imperfections in the party loved, can dissolve them. If I love not the child of God, for his own sake, for his Father's sake; more than my friend for my commodity, or my kinsman for blood; I never received any spark of true heavenly love.

L.

The good duty, that is deferred upon a conceit of present unfitness, at last grows irksome; and thereupon, altogether neglected. I will not suffer my heart to entertain the least thought of lothness towards the task of devotion, wherewith I have stinted myself: but violently break through any motion of