Epictetus his manuall

Epictetus his Manuall. And Cebes his Table. Out of the Greeke originall, by Io. Healey. At London. Printed for E. Blunt and W. Barret. 1610.

To a true ſauorer of forward ſpirits, Maiſter Iohn Florio.

Sir, as diſtreſſed Soſtratus ſpake to more fortunate Areius, to make him his mediator to Auguſtus The learned loue the learned, if they be rightly learned: So this your poore friend though he haue found much of you, yet doth ſtill follow you for as much more: that as his Mecaenas you would write to Auguſtus, Bee as mindefull of Horace, as you would bee of my ſelfe: For his apprentiſes eſſay you procured (God thanke you) an impregnable protection: He now prayes the ſame Patron (moſt worthy of all praiſe) for his iourney-mans Maiſter-peece: yet as Horace to Vinnius for his verſes to Auguſtus, Ne ſtudio noſtri pecces. And though the land bee the Lords wherein hee moſt laboured; yet ſee a handfull of fruites is falne to your ſhare, who firſt ſhewed his workmanſhip. This Manuall of Epictetus, though not Saint Auguſtines Enchiridion, now by hap is the hand, or rather the hand-maide of a greater body of Saint Auguſtines: and hath beene held by ſome the hand to Phyloſophy, the inſtrument of inſtruments: as Nature, greateſt in the leaſt: as Homers Ilias in a nutſhell: in leſſe compaſſe more cunning: In all languages, ages, by all perſons high prized, imbraced, yea imboſomed. It filles not the hand with leaues, but files ye head with leſlons: nor would bee held in hand, but had by hart to boote. He is more ſenceles then a ſtocke, that hath no good ſence of this Stoick. For the tranſlation and tranſlator, to whome better recourſe, then one ſo trauail'd in tranſlation; both patterne and patron of tranſlators. Artificers beſt iudge of arts. Wiſe they muſt bee that iudge the wiſe. But a ſhort booke would haue no long Epiſtle, more then a ſmall Towne a great gate. Wherfore as hee deſired, I haue done: Who reſt, Yours in true harted loue.

The life of Epictetvs.

Epictetvs vvas a Phi loſopher of the ſect of the Stoikes, borne in Hierapolis (now called Haleppo, ſituate in Phrygia, not farre from Laodicea): His eſtate was ſeruile; according to the teſtimony of Avlvs Gellivs in his Noctes Atticae. For at Rome he was ſlaue vnto one Epaphroditvs, one of Nero's familiars. His life was ſpotleſſe and vntaintable, his ſpirit wholy ſecluded that arrogancie of carriage which otherwiſe ſtuck as a great blemiſh in the liues of the most and beſt Philoſophers. For his eſteeme, it had that high place in the worlds affection, that his very lampe (beeing but of Potters claye) was bought and ſolde for fifty pounds ſterling. Of this Epictetvs, you ſhall finde honorable mention made in Lvcian, who otherwiſe was a perpetuall detractor from all the Philoſophers, and in generall, a profeſſed ſcorner of Gods and men. And in that place where he mentions him, hee toucheth alſo at this ſale of his lampe,(for thus he writeth in his Dialogue; πρὸς τιν ἀπαιδευτα καὶ πολλα βιβλια ἀνούμενον: that is, to the vnlearned engroſſer of books:) Our times (ſaith he) hath brought forth a man, and I thinke hee is yet aliue, that gaue fifty pound for Epictetvs his earthen Lampe, thinking ( be-like) that if hee had but light to ſtudy by from thence, that then hee ſhould haue all Epictetvs his wiſdome inſpired into him in dreames, and ſo become parallell to that admired father. Thus writeth Lvcian. Epictetvs was wont to affirme, that the ſcope and extent of all Philoſophy was included in theſe two vvords: Ἀνέχου, καὶ ἀπέχου, Beare and Forbeare. In the reigne of Domitian, either his owne diſlike of his tyrannicall gouernment, or the Senates edict for the expulſion of all the Philoſophers out of Rome, made him depart to Hierapolis, his natiue ſoyle, whence afterwards hee is ſayd to returne, and ſo to make his aboade in Rome vntill the reigne of Marcvs Antonivs, about which time hee dyed.

Chapter. 1.

I N the order of the worlds exiſtence, there are ſome things na turally ſubiected vnto our command, and ſome that exceed it. Of the first sort, is Opinion, affect, deſire, diſlike, & in a word, all actions, whoſe performance is peculiarly resident in our selues: Of the latter sort, is the body, riches, glory, souerainty, and to conclude, al things whoſe perfections depend not on our ſelues, but ab externo.

Chap. 2.

The things that are ſwayed by our humaine wills, are in their owne nature free, and ſurmounters of all lettes and impediments what-ſoeuer. But the other from whoſe managing we are naturally ſecluded, are expoſed vnto all infirmity, ſlauery, and hindrance, and indeed, direct aliens from our proper goods.

Chap. 3.

Wherefore take this generall memento, if thou repute thoſe thinges that are naturally ſeruile, to bee really free, and confound thy proper goods with mixture of thoſe externall ones, thou ſhalt neuer want woe, but bee driuen by ſorrowe and perturbation to giue termes of offence both to God and Man. But if thou prize nothing for thine own but that which is eſſentially ſo, and hold all thoſe externall goods, as they are, truly aliens from thy ſtate, thou ſhalt bee ſeated aboue the power of all iniury or compulſion: thou ſhalt haue no accuſation to lay againſt any man, nor any act which thy will ſhall not prompt thee to perform:thou ſhalt ſtand beyond the reach of hurt, and without the feare of foes. Briefly, thou ſhalt not taſt of the leaſt calamity.

Chap. 4.

If thine affections therefore ſtand for theſe happy obiects, be ſure that thou purſue them with a more then meane alacrity, reſoluing to omitte ſome thinges for euer, and otherſome but for the preſent. Mary if thy deſires beare a like leuell both vnto theſe, and likewiſe vnto ritches, honours and ſoueraignties; thou maiſt perhaps come ſhort of the attainment euen of thoſe later, becauſe thou ſtandeſt ſo affected vnto the former: but, how-ſoeuer, thou ſhalt bee ſure to looſe the firſt, which are the only ſteps and guides vnto all freedome and felicity.

Chap. 5.

Wherfore when thou ſeeſt any diſtaſtfull occurrence, let it be thy firſt care to perſwade thy ſelf thus:ruſh this is but a phantaſie, and is not as it ſeemes. And afterwards when thou commeſt to examine it more exactly, follow the rules thou haſt preſcribed vnto thee; and this eſpecially: Whether this occurrence concerne the things that lye vnder mans managing or no? if it do not, then the caſe is plaine, it is wholy impertinent to thee.

Chap. 6.

Remember well that the ayme of appetite, is to attaine what it affecteth, and the maine of diſlike is to auoyde what it diſliketh. So that to bee fruſtrated of what wee deſire, and to incurre what wee would auoide, are both vnfortunate euents. If therefore thy deſires ſtand at the ſtaues end, onely with thoſe things that are vndoubtedly oppoſit vnto thoſe which are at thine owne diſpoſe, thou ſhalt neuer meete with any motion of diſlike, but if thou ſtand at defiance with death, ſickneſſe or pouerty, and ſeekeſt to eſchue theſe, thou art in the direct courſe of calamitie.

Chap. 7.

Thou ſhalt therefore remoue thy diſlike from theſe thinges that are not in the compaſſe of our commaund, and make thoſe the obiectes thereof, which are the eſſentiall oppoſites of thoſe that ar vnder our moderation and gouernment. But as for appetite, let it not by any meanes haue acceſſe into thy thoughts as yet. For if thou affect what thou canſt not attaine, thy deſires muſt perforce bee fruſtrate. But how, or in what meaſure to affect the true and fit obiects of affect(ſuch things I meane as are at our owne diſcretion) thou haſt not as yet learned. Vſe onely that ſame ὁρμή, that inſtinct, which attracteth the ſpirite vnto this, and with-draweth it from that: but this muſt bee with dilligent reſtraint, and moderation thereof in both reſpects.

Chap. 8.

In all thinges that are either delectable, profitable, or amiable, be ſure that thou do firſt of all examine their exiſtence;beginning at matters of the leaſt moment; if thou takeſt delight in ſuch a pot or glaſſe, conſider that it is but a pot, or a glaſſe that thou delighteſt in: ſo ſhall not the breaking of that, breake the peace of thy minde. So, if thou loue thy wife, or children, conſider that they are but mortals, on whom thy loue is laide, and ſo though they periſh, thy quiet ſhall ſtill ſuruiue.

Chap. 9.

When thou entreſt vpon any action, take an exact ſuruey of the nature thereof; as if thou goe to bathe, obſerue both the neceſſary and the accidentall euents in bathing, that ſome are a waſhing, ſome are a thruſting out of the bathe, ſome rayling, and other ſome ſtealing.And to goe ſurely to worke, propoſe but this to thy ſelfe, I will diſpatch my bathing, and obſerue the direct preſcription of nature in this my purpoſe. And this likewiſe in all other deſignes. For this ground being laide, there is no inconuenience cā ſurprize the vnprouided. For this thou maieſt ſay, I was not onely aware of this, but alſo reſolued before, to follow my determination according to nature, howſoeuer. But if I doe grumble at any euent, then did I not obſerue it before it befell.

Chap. 10.

It is not the truneſſe of things themſelues, but mens indirect opinions thereof that fill their boſomes with perturbations. As for example: death is not euil in it ſelfe:for if it had bene ſo, Socrates would not haue ſaid otherwiſe: but it is the opinion that men carry of death, which giueth it al the maleuolence it hath. Therfore in our croſſes and incombrances, we ſhould doe well to with-draw our accuſations from others, and lay them vppon our ſelues and our owne miſpriſions. To accuſe others in any miſfortune of our owne, is the character of ignorance: to accuſe ones ſelfe, intimates ſome progreſſe in knowledge: but to accuſe neither our ſelues nor others, argues perfection of vnderſtanding.

Chap. 11.

Neuer be proud of excellence in others: if an horſſe ſhould boaſt of him-ſelfe, and ſay I am a goodly beaſt, it were ſome-what tollerable, but for thee to caſt forth thy braues that thou haſt ſuch a goodly horſe, is ridiculous, for thou art proud of thy horſes perſon, and goodneſſe, not thine owne. What is thine owne then? The vſe of obiects: well then, when thou haſt the habite of ſwaying theſe obiects according to the methode that nature hath preſcribed, then boaſt and ſpare not, for by that time, thou maieſt haue goods of thine owne to delight in.

Chap. 12.

For as it is in nauigation, if the ſhip bee landed, and thou goeſt a ſhore for freſh water, perhaps, by the way, thou maieſt gather a cockle, or a ſcallion, or ſo, and yet not-with-ſtanding thy minde is principally on the ſhip, and thine eare ſtill attentiue on the maiſters call, at which thou leaueſt all, and runneſt, leaſt thou bee chained and ſtowed vnder hatches, as they are faine to doe in tranſportation of ſheepe: ſo in the maine voyage of this life, if thou lighteſt on a wife, or a childe, inſteed of a cockle, or a ſcallion, thou mayeſt take them with-out trouble. But if the maiſter call, then, thou trudgeſt away, then a boord, leauing thy traſh, and neuer looking after it:well then, if thou beeſt aged, beware of wandring far from the ſhip, leaſt the maiſter call,& thou ſhouldſt faint ere thou couldſt come to bee imbarked.

Chap. 13.

Thou oughteſt not to wiſh that all euents ſhould ſort vnto thine affection: wiſedome would rather aduiſe thee to wiſh the euents of all occurents to be ſuch, as they are. Sickneſſe is a clogge and a ſhackle vnto the body, but none to thy minde vnleſſe thou liſt thy ſelfe. Lameneſſe incombers the legges, but not the reſolution. This if thou doe but note in all other accidents, thou ſhalt finde them all to be rather encombrances, vnto al other things, then vnto thy determinations.

Chap 14.

At all occaſions, be ready to turn to thine own thoughts, and therin ſearch the proper inſtructiōs which thou haſt concerning the vſes of what ſoeuer befalleth thee: if thou ſee a beautifull perſonage, call Temperance to hir taſke, and Epictetus and ſhee will come with alacrity. If thou meeteſt with paines, make thy buckler of pacience, which alſo is the ſureſt ſhield for the repulſe of reproache. Vſe but thy ſelfe vnto this courſe, and thou ſhalt bee no more ouer-mayſtred by appearances.

Chap. 15.

Let it neuer come forth of thy mouth that thou haſt loſt any thing: but that thou haſt reſtored it. Thy ſonne is dead: why then hee is reſtored vnto him that lent him thee. Thy liuings are taken from thee. Why ſo then, are they not reſtored? No, for hee was a wicked man that gotte them from mee. Why, what is that to thee, what inſtruments he that gaue thee them will vſe, for the taking them againe? as long as thou haſt them, vſe them, but as if they were an other mans, and this thou maieſt learne by the trauellers vſage of his Inne, and lodging.

Chap. 16.

If euer thou wilt attaine to any progreſſe in goodneſſe, thou muſt ſtand at vtter defiance with ſuch cogitations as theſe: if I neglect mine owne eſtate, I ſhall want whereon to liue. If I correct not my ſonne, he will neuer bee good. It is farre better to ſtarue with hunger, and ſo bee quit at once from the feeling of feare and moleſtation, then to liue in aboundance of all externall goods, with a minde perturbed, and voide of all inward content. And it is better to ſee badneſſe in ones ſonne, then to feele miſery in ones ſelfe.

Chap. 17.

Begin at the loweſt ſteppe of the worlds occaſions. Is thine oile ſpilt, or thy farme ſpoiled? well, ſuppoſe this with thy ſelfe: this I pay for my peace of conſcience, and this for my conſtancie in troubles: nothing is gotten for gramercy. And when thou calleſt thy boy, preſuppoſe that he will not come, or if he doe, that hee will do nothing as thou wouldeſt haue him. But euer beware of this, that it lye not in his power to perturbe thy ſetled quiet at his pleaſure.

Chap. 18.

If thou ayme at perfection in Phyloſophy, neuer make bones of beeing reputed a foole or an aſſe in worldly reſpectes: Nor mayſt thou profeſſe any knowledge at any hand. If thou ſeeme wiſe vnto others, yet diſtruſt it thy ſelfe. For bee thou well aſſured of this, that it is an enterpriſe of extreme difficulty to containe thy determinations in the partes which nature and reaſon hath propoſed, and yet to admit the fruition of things externall: and a thouſand to one, that he that reſpects the one, muſt neceſſarily reiect the other.

Chap. 19.

If thy care to keep thy wife, children, friends, and family, in perpetuall fulneſſe of health and externall happines, thou ſheweſt thy ſelf a foole, for thou indeauoreſt to ſway thoſe thinges that ſtand without the compaſſe of thy power, and to turn external goods into reall ones. Now if thy will be that thy ſonne ſhould not runne into enormities, thou art a foole in that. For thy deſire is, that error ſhould not bee error, but of ſome other nature. But if thy deſire bee not to bee fruſtrate in thy wiſhes, this may be allowed thee.

Chap. 20.

That man is abſolute Lord ouer euery thing, who at his owne pleaſure can preſerue or deliuer the things which his will is to preſerue or deliuer: He therefore that will bee free, muſt neither deſire nor diſlike any thing that is in the power of others to diſpoſe of. Otherwiſe, hee muſt take the yoake whether he will or no.

Chap. 21.

Remember that this life, is but as a banquet. If any one carue to thee take part of ye peece with modeſty, and returne the reſt: is the diſh ſet from thee? ſtay it not: is it not yet come to thee? gape not after it, but expect it with ſober behauiour. Beare but this hand on thine affections to thy wife, thy children, dignities, and poſſeſſions, and thou ſhalt in time bee a fitte gueſt for the banquets of the Gods. But admitte that a profer of ſome of thoſe bee made thee: if then thou doe truly deſpiſe and refuſe it, thou ſhalt not onely bee worthy to ſhare with the Gods in their banquets, but euen in their glories. By this meanes did Diogenes, Heraclitus, and others, purchaſe that epithite worthy their reuerend cariage, diuine.

Chap. 22.

When thou ſeeſt any one lamenting either becauſe his ſon is gon to trauel, or for ſome other temporall miſhap, bee ſure to carry a wary reſpect vnto thy ſelf, that the ſight hereof breed no alteration in thy thoughts, as to perſwade thee that it is thoſe externall goodes that haue brought downe this calamity vppon him: But rather make a diſtinction with thy ſelfe, and bee readye to tell thy thoughts this tale: It is not this caſualty that afflicts this man (for had it befalne ſome other it would not haue afflicted him) but it is his owne miſ-apprehenſion hereof, that maketh him mone thus. Thus reſolued, doe not doubt to miniſter the beſt counſell that thou canſt afforde to aſſwage his paſſion, to which end thou maiſt lawfully put on a forme of teares to aſſociate his teares. But bee ſure thy minde bee not any way moleſted, looke to that aboue all things.

Chap. 23.

Conſider with thy ſelfe that thou haſt that part to playe heere on this earthly ſtage, which thy maiſter hath voutchſafed to appoint thee: bee it a long part or a ſhort, in a long playe or a ſhort. If hee haue decreed that thou ſhouldſt act a begger, let it be thine endeuour to to repreſent the impoſed perſon, ingeniouſly, and induſtriouſlye. So like-wiſe muſt thou doe in the parts of a cripple, a King, or a common Plebeian. It is thy duty to diſcharge thine appointed part with diſcretion, but what part thou ſhalt haue allotted thee, is left vnto the direction of another.

Chap. 24.

If thou obſerue any inauſpicious ſigne in the croaking of the Rauen, or ſuch like auguries, keepe thy minde firme againſt all ſuch Phantaſies, and ſay with thy ſelfe, this preſage becommeth not me, but eyther my body, my ſtate, my credite, my children, my wife, or ſomething that way:but vnto my ſelfe, all Potentates are fortunate, if ſo bee I liſt my ſelfe. For what-ſoeuer befalleth, is leſt vnto mee, to make mine vſe thereof.

Chap. 25.

The way to bee inuincible, is neuer to contend: for it is not in our power to bee victorious when wee pleaſe.

Chap. 26.

When thou beholdeſt a man high-topt with honors, proud in rich poſſeſſion, and flouriſhing in externall felicities, beware that thine eye do not cauſe thy tongue to call that man happy. For if true tranquility haue hir feate onely in thinges that lye wholy at our diſpoſe, then muſt there bee no place there, eyther for enuy or emulation, nor muſt thy deſires flye eyther after Confulſhippes nor Kingdomes, but after freedome. To which freedome there is but one onely way conducteth vs, and that is, The contempt of all things that are not in our povv ers to diſpoſe of.

Chap. 27.

Remember that hee that ſhall iniure thee by word, or violence, is not the author of that iniury him-ſelfe, but the opinion which cauſeth thee to hold thoſe actions as diſgracefull and iniurious. Wherefore when any one derideth thee, know that is but thine owne opinion that ſuggeſteth this to be a deriſion. And therefore haue eſpeciall care to curbe thy minde from too quick aſſenting to thine eye. Gette but a little time of the obiect, ere thou giue vp thine aſſent, and thou ſhalt haue thy iudgement at a farre eaſier command.

Chap. 28.

Let thy dayly meditation bee of death, exile, and all other accidents which the world reputeth for calamities. But amongſt all, let death haue the firſt ranke in thy contemplation. So ſhall thy cogitations neuer bee deiected, and ſo ſhall thine affections neuer bee exorbitant.

Chap. 29.

Doſt thou ayme at the attaynment of wiſedome? Then firſt of all, prepare thy ſelfe to bee the worldes laughing-ſtocke, to bee the common place of the multitude of mockers. There will one come with this guird: Oh here is a muſhrump Phyloſopher! ſhotte vppe ſince yeſterday: Another with this: Lord ſir where light you on this graue ſtatelineſſe? But let not ſtatelineſſe bee found in thee: ſuch thinges as ſhall ſeeme to participate really of goodneſſe, ſticke to them as firme as if God himſelfe hadde fixt thy ſtation therein: and aſſure thy ſelfe that if thou continue this courſe, they that derided thee heretofore, will admire thee here-after. But if thy ſpirit yeeld vnto their ſcoffs, then doubtleſſe ſhalt thou incurre a redoubled deriſion.

Chap. 30.

If euer thou ſeek to be eminent, and to ſatiſfie the affections of others. know this vndoubtedly, that thou haſt loſt thine hold of perfection. And therefore let thy reſt be ſet vpon this, in all accidents, that thou art a Philoſopher: which if thou deſire to make apparant vnto any one, giue thy ſelfe the firſt notice of it, and let that bee ſufficient.

Chap. 31.

Let it neuer greeue thee to be deſtitute of honours, and places of ſtate: for if it bee an euill thing to lacke preferment, then haue externall things alike power to draw thee into inconuenience, & into vice. Is it thy part then to hunt after dignity? or to wiſh to be inuited to ſuch or ſuch a great mans banquet? O by no meanes. What reproache then can once touch thee? or how is it poſſible that thou canſt want an honorable place, when thou maieſt bee Lord and Soueraigne ouer all thoſe goods which are peculiar adhaerents to the nature of man? O but I cannot benefit my friends: No? who told you ſo? It may be thou not canſt aide them with money, nor procure them the freedome of the citty: what then? Did euer man teach thee that theſe were not the gifts of others, nor excluded wholye from our diſpoſingſ? And who will helpe another to that which hee wanteth himſelfe? I but wee intreate you (ſay they) to vſe but ſome meanes where-by wee may attaine this or that: Well, if I may doe ſo with-out iniury to mine honeſty, my faith, and the high pitch of mine owne thoughts, and that you will ſhew me how, I wil vſe all the meanes I can for you. But if you care not if I loſe my true goods to purchaſe you things only ſeeming good, is that a part of honeſt friendſhip, or of head-long fondneſſe? What doe you make choiſe of? an honeſt friend, or an heauy purſe? If you approoue the firſt, then aſſiſt mee in the preſeruation of mine honeſty, and be not the cauſes of employing mee in thoſe buſineſſes whereby I ſhould bring all my goodneſſe to nothing. O but I haue yet no meanes to benefite my countrey! As how man? you cannot builde it a ſchoole, an Exchange, or a Bathe: what's all that to the purpoſe? the Armorer doth not ſtore the commonwealth with ſhooes, nor the ſho-omaker with armes. It ſufficeth euery man to containe him-ſelfe in his owne vocation. Now if thou perchance ſhould by thine inſtructions ingraff true goodneſſe in ſome other of thy country-men, ſhouldſt thou not benefit thy country? aſſure thy ſelfe thou ſhouldſt: thou art no vnprofitable member in the ſtate then. Yea but what place ſhall I hold then (ſaieſt thou) in the body politique? Euen what place ſo euer thou canſt with the ſaue-gard of thy modeſty and integrity: but if thou caſheere them to pleaſure thy country, what vſe ſhall a good ſtate haue of one giuen ouer to impudence and treachery?

Chap. 32.

Dooſt thou ſee any one preferred before thee at banquets, in ſalutations, or in councels? well, if theſe be good things, thou oughteſt to congratulate with him to whom they are befallen. But if they be euills, greeue not that thou haſt miſſed them, but remember, that ſeeing it is not thy ſtudy to purſue thoſe things that are not in a mans owne power to diſpoſe of, thou canſt not poſſibly haue thoſe graces alotted thee, that others haue, whoſe ſtudy is all vpon that obiect. For how ſhall hee that doth not attend continually at a great mans doore, haue equall place in his fauour with him that doth giue this due attendance? or he that waites not at his heeles, with him that doth? or he that flatters him not, with him that doth? vniuſt and inſatiable therefore ſhould thine affections be, if thou pay not the due price for things that are thus ſaleable, and yet thinke to haue them giuen thee gratis: For admitte this compariſon: what’s the price of a diſh of lettice? ſay an halfe-peny. Well, one comes, payes his halfe-peny and hath his lettice: if thou pay nothing, and ſo haue none, dooſt thou thinke thy ſelfe in worſe place then hee that had of them? no, thou haſt no reaſon to do ſo, for as hee hath his lettice, ſo thou haſt paid no price. Euen ſo it is here. Thou art not inuited vnto ſome great mans banquet? why, nor haſt thou defrayed the price that the banquet is ſold for: namely praiſe, and flattory for which the maker there-of ſetteth it foorth to ſayle. Pay then the price of it, if it like thee to pertake of it. But if thou wilt not performe the firſt, and yet deſireſt to enioy the latter, thy thoughts are baſely couetous and deiectd. Well then inſteed of this feaſt, thou haſt nothing. No? yes that thou haſt: thou haſt not pleaſed him whom thou couldſt not finde in thine heart to praiſe; nor haſt thou been forced to endure his inſolence, by eating of his viands.

Chap. 33.

The preſcriptions of nature are layde downe apparantly, euen in things wherof all the world hath one opinion. As for example: if thy neighbours childe doe breake a glaſſe, or ſuch like, euery one preſently can ſay it was a chance. Why know then, that if it had beene thine owne, that had beene broken, thou oughteſt to be perturbed no more, then thou waſt at the breaking of thy neighbors. Now aſcend from this vnto things of greater moment: thy neighbours wife, or his childe dyeth. Euery one can ſay, Why! wee are all mortall; what remedie! but when his owne goes, then preſently hee burſteth forth with, O woe is mee! O mee moſt wretched man! whereas in very deed wee ought now chiefelye to remember how wee ſtoode affected when wee heard of the like caſualtie be fallen others.

Chap. 34.

As the markes in ſhooting are not ſett to make the Archer leuell wide: ſo like-wiſe wee ſee in nature there is nothing eſſentiallye euill. If any man by chance ſhould fall a ſtrikeing thee, and another ſtand by and let him alone, thou wouldeſt thinke hardly of him: and art not thou aſhamed then to lette thy thoughts bee iniured by euery man, and to be greeued and vexed at the ſcoffes of euery one? bee aduiſed then, and aduenture vpon nothing with-out due conſideration of the precedences and conſequences therof, and then proceed, freely. Other-wiſe thou maiſt well go cheerfully about it in the beginning (hauing not obſerued the accidents depending there-vpon) but in the proceſſe of the worke, thou art ſure to bee chaſed from proceeding by ſome diſgracefull obſtacle or other.

Chap. 35.

Wouldeſt thou be victor in the Olympick games? In troth and ſo would I, it is a glory of great eſteeme. But marke what doth ordinarylye fore-runne it, and what followeth it: and then enter the liſts: thou muſt bee tyed to keepe order, to eate but when needs muſt, to for beare all delicacies, to vſe neceſſary excerciſes, at ſet times, to drinke no cold water, nor wine but at preſcribed ſeaſons: brieflye, you muſt bee as obſequious to your Wraſtlers and your Fencers preſcriptions as you would bee to your Phyſitians. And then you come to the tryall: where the hand perhaps is hurt, or the anckle wreſted: downe you goe in the duſt, and riſe perhaps with your mouths full thereof: here maiſt thou get thy ſkin full of ſtrokes, and be ouer-throwne when all is done. Conſider all this wel, and then if you like it, turne champion and ſpare not. If not thou muſt retire as little children doe, that now play the Wraſtlers, now the Fencers, and by and by the Fidlers, now they ſound the Trumpets, and preſently they preſent the tragedies: Euen ſo ſhalt thou doe; one while being a wraſtler, another while a Fencer, then an Oratour, and laſtly a Philoſopher: but indeed, directly nothing:but as an Ape doth, imitating all thou ſeeſt, and poſting in thine affections perpetually from one obiect to another. The reaſon is, thou takeſt no premeditation of the depences of what-ſo-euer thou goeſt about, but hurleſt on vnto action with-out all diſcretion, being wholy ſwayed by the leuity of appetite. Such a company were they who hearing a Philoſopher ſay: O how truly ſpake Socrates in this? nay what man on earth can ſpeake as hee did? would needes here-vpon in all haſt, turne flatte Philoſophers.

Chap. 36.

Man, conſider firſt the nature of the thing that thou intendeſt, & ſecondly, thine owne nature, whether they two may hold good correſpondence together or no. Haſt thou deſire to proceede maiſter in the fiue exerciſes? or in Wreſtling onely? Why looke vpon thine armes, thighes, and legges, and examine them all well: for theſe are naturall aſſiſtants one to another. Dooſt thou thinke that in theſe courſes, thou canſt eate, drinke, and abſtaine, all in one meaſure? Thou muſt labour, thou muſt watch, thou muſt leaue thy friends, thou muſt become an obiect for the very ſcorne of children, thou muſt bee debaſed vnder all men beſides thee in honors, offices, counſels, and in all cauſes whatſoeuer: lay theſe things to thine heart, & reſolue with thy ſelfe whether thou wouldſt change thy peace, freedome, and conſtancie of minde, for theſe other endowments. If thou wouldſt not, then follow the faſhion of boyes no longer to bee now a Philoſopher, now a Publican, now an orator, & tomorrow the deputy of Cæſar. Here is no cohærence in theſe things: to be a man fixt, either in goodneſſe or badneſſe, is a mans part. Thou muſt either practiſe thy reaſon and vnderſtanding, or giue all thy ſeruice to the world, and the worlds dependances. Thy labor muſt be emploied either abroad or at home: that is thou muſt either bee a profeſſed Philoſopher, or a direct member of the vulgar.

Chap. 37.

All offices of man in this world are to bee proportionate by mutuall affections. Haſt thou a father? that name cōmands thy diligent care of him, and thy forbearance of him in all things: binding thy pacience to endure his worſt callumnies and moſt iniurious violences. Imagine him a wicked man: hath nature then alotted thee a good father? no, but a father ſhee hath: well, then doe thy duty to him with all diligence, ſtand not to examine his actions, but to foreſee, that in all thine actions vnto him the ordinance of nature be kept inuiolate. So ſhall no man hurt thee, vnleſſe thou liſt thy ſelfe: and when thou ſuppoſeſt thy ſelfe hurt, then ſhalt thou bee hurt indeed. This is thy way to diſcerne the duty of a neighbour, a citizen, or an Emperour, by a dayly ſpeculation of their mutuall concords.

Chap. 38.

Know, that the firſt and formoſt point of religion is a true beleefe: to bee aſſuredly perſwaded, that there is a God, and that he ſwayeth the ſtate of the whole vniuerſe, in goodneſſe and in iuſtice: that we muſt obey him, & aſſent vnto his commands in the ſmalleſt condition: approouing all his actions, and following their directions as the effects of that pureſt & moſt glorious Intellect. Thus dooing, thou ſhalt neuer haue cauſe to repine at him, nor to repute him negligent of thee. Now this cannot bee, vnleſſe thou reiect the things that lye not in thy power to diſpoſe of, and place the whole nature of good and euill in thoſe things whoſe order is tyed vnto mans owne diſcretion. For if thou binde, either goodneſſe or badneſſe to any of the other, it is vnpoſſible that thou ſhouldſt not accuſe the author of them, and grow into an hate of him, when-ſoeuer thou art deceiued of what thou deſiredſt, and falleſt into that which thou ſoughteſt to auoyd. For it is inherent in euery creature by nature, to abhorre and eſchue the originall cauſes of all that ſeemeth hurtfull, as well as the effects themſelues: and contrarywiſe, to follow, and admire the cauſes and productions of all that ſeemeth vſe-full. Hee therefore that thinketh himſelfe iniured, hath ſmall reaſon to reioyce in that hee ſeemeth to iniurie the other againe: for it is impoſſible that loſſe ſhould bee parent vnto true delight. But this erronious conceit, maketh the ſonne to diſparage the father, when hee doth not allowe him enough of that which opinion holdeth for a true good, and this made Eteocles and Polinices go together by the eares for their fathers Empire, becauſe they thought there was ſuch a deale of happineſſe included in ſoueraignty. This maketh the huſband-man curſe the heauens one while and the ſea-man another while: the merchant alſo, & the man that burieth his wife or children: For theſe mens piety is inſeperably chained vnto their profit. But he whoſe endeuor worketh for a due moderation of his deſire, & diſlike, herein laieth down a good ground for or his piety alſo. Now as or ſacrifices and offrings, et each one obſerue the cuſtome of the land wherein hee liueth: dooing it with purity, parſimonie, diligence, cleanneſſe, and with-in the compaſſe of his ability.

Chap. 39.

When thou goeſt vnto a diuinatour, remember that thou knoweſt not the end of that thou goeſt about, but goeſt to learne that of him. But if thou beeſt a Philoſopher, thou knoweſt the quality of it ere thou goeſt. For if it concerne a thing that is not in the power of man, it is impoſſible that it ſhould bee either good or euil. So that when thou commeſt to the Sooth-ſayer, be ſure thou leaue both diſlike, and deſire behinde thee: otherwiſe, thou ſhalt neuer approach his face without feare. But ſette downe thy ſtaffe at this, what euer the end bee, it no way concerneth thee: For thou haſt power to make vſe of it, come in what ſhape ſoeuer it will: And in this none in the World can bee thy hinderance. And therefore come to the Goddes, as to thy counſellors with a bold ſpirit: and when thou haſt hard their wils, remember who are thy Councellors, and how great a contempt thou ſhalt committe in diſobeying their direction. But if thou come to the Oracle (as it pleaſed Socrates to do) about a thing whoſe whole conſideration relyeth vppon the euent; & wherin neither Art nor Reaſon can aide thee with knowledge of the dependances, then muſt thou ruminate vpon the firſt head therof:therfore if thou beeſt to vndergo the defence of thy friend or countrey wt danger of thine own perſon neuer go to aske the Augure whether thou ſhouldſt defend them or no. For if he tel thee the intrailes preſage miſfortune, it is likely that he meaneth eyther of death, or the laming of ſome member, or of baniſhment. But then comes reaſon on the other ſide, and this withall: The daunger that I vndergo, my friend and countrey vndergoeth alſo with mee. And therefore herein take councell of that great Pythian Prieſte, who expelled one out of the Temple for not helping his friend in a mortall extremity.

Chap. 40.

Preſcribe thy ſelfe a certaine forme of lawe to ob ſerue, both in thine owne ſpeculation alone, and when thou alſo conuerſeſt with others.

Chap. 41.

Silence generally is a thing of great approbation: ſo is the breuity of ſpeach together with the neceſſity of the thing ſpoken. Wee ſhould bee ſparing of our tongues, neither admitting euery occaſion of talke, nor euery ſubiect in our talke, as to diſcours of fencers, plaies, wraſtlings, drinkings, the common bumbaſt of euery mans conference. And when wee ſpeake of men, lette our eſpeciall care be to keep our ſelues either from commending any man or cenſuring him, with others.

Chap. 42.

Adapt the diſcourſes of thy friends vnto thine owne as neare as thou canſt: but if thou beeſt in ſtrange company be ſilent.

Chap. 43.

Let not thy laughter be profuſe, nor be led by euery light occaſion.

Chap. 44.

If thou canſt poſſibly, let neuer oth proceed from thy lippes: at leaſt do what may by all meanes be done to auoyd ſwearing.

Chap. 45.

Auoid the vulgar banquets, reuels and compotations: and when occaſion ſerueth curbe thy ſelfe moſt ſtricktly, leaſt thou ſlippe into the common gulfe of licentious cuſtome. For know that hee that is foule, without all queſtion will in time defile him that conuer ſeth with him, were he neuer ſo pure before.

Chap. 46.

Lette thine vſe of bodily neceſſaries neuer extend further then the bodies ſeruice of the mind requireth: let thy meat, drink, apparrel, houſe and ſeruants bee all within the limits of parſimonious nature:far bee thoſe things from thee, which tend to pomp and oſtentation.

Chap. 47.

Vntil thou takeſt a wife abſtain with all thine indeauor from veneriall delights: but being married, vſe it lawfully, ſo it bee with modeſty. But neuer vpbrayd thoſe that vſe it before, nor taunt them with their incontinency, nor boaſt of thine owne abſtinence in that kinde.

Chap. 48.

If one come and tel thee, Such a man ſlaundered you thus or thus: neuer ſtand to apologize for thy ſelfe: but anſwer him againe only thus: hee knoweth not mine other faults, for if he did, he would neuer haue reckoned only thoſe you tell me off.

Chap. 49.

There is no neceſſity of thine often going to the plaies, or to the prizes: but if thou haſt any ſpare time, go, ſo that it may appeare that thou reſpecteſt only thy ſelfe in theſe caſes, that is, that thou would haue him only to winne the prize, that winneth it, and that only to be acted which is acted: ſo ſhall thy thoughts remaine vndiſturbed. But for the whootes and cries, & laughters, and other turbulent motions, auoid them vtterly. And when thou goeſt from the play-houſe, neuer talke much of that which befell, it no way concernes thy reformation. If thou doe not as I ſay, then all the people wil perceiue that thou waſt taken with admiration of the goodly ſhewes.

Chap. 50.

Be not ouer-haſty of haunting the Lectures: But when thou doſt go to them, carry thy ſelfe with all grauity and conſtancy: and giue no man cauſe of perturbation.

Chap. 51.

When thou haſt a buſineſſe with any man (eſpecially if he bee of the Nobility) thinke with thy ſelfe what cours Socrates or Zeno would take in ſuch a caſe. So ſhalt thou bee ſure to haue a rule of reaſon, and thereby thou ſhalt perform thine affaire with a perfect Decorum.

Chap. 52.

When thou art to go ſpeak with a great man, preſuppoſe with thy ſelfe: faith he is not at home, or, he is buſy, or, I ſhall hardly get to the ſpeach of him, or it may bee hee will not reſpect me. If thine occaſion bee ſo that thou muſt go thus, why bear theſe ordinary occurrents, & neuer ſay vnto thy ſelf, I haue knowne him keep a leſſer ſtate: to ſay thus, were common groſeneſſe, peculiar onley to him that raileth at externall ſhadowes.

Chap. 53.

Amongſt thy friendes, beware thou neuer ſtand tediouſly diſcourſing of thine owne exploytes or perils: For though the rememberance thereof be delightfull vnto thee, yet the recounting of thy fortunes is nothing ſo pleaſing vnto others.

Chap. 54.

And euer-more auoid the playing of the Buffone, and procuring of others laughter: for thence may a man ſooneſt of all ſlippe downe into the baſeneſſe of vulgar behauiour: And this is a thing that is of great force in diminiſhing thy friendes good likings of thee.

Chap. 55.

And it is a dangerous enterprize to enter into diſcourſes of obſcaenity: when ſuch an accident falleth out (if thou canſt conueniently)checke the author of ſuch an vnciuil Theme:but if thou canſt not well doe that, then print thy diſlike of ſuch an argument in thy lookes, and ſilence, and by that meanes giue him notice of his errour.

Chap. 56.

If thy imagination preſent thee with any delight, clap a bridle on thy thoughtes immediatly, leaſt thou be born headlong away therewith. Examine the thing it ſelfe, and take ſome time for thy ſelfe to deliberate: which done, recollect both the times, namely wherein thou maiſt inioy the pleaſure, and that wherin after that fruitiō thou art ſure to feele diſlike & diſcontent, lay theſe two ſpaces togither, & compare them with this, that if thou abſtaine, thou ſhalt haue cauſe of ioy, and occaſion to commend thine owne circumſpection. If thou beeſt thē to vnder-go any delightful actiō, take heed that thou beeſt not intangled in the ſweete inticements thereof: but ſette this againſt them all: O how much more excellent is it for a man to haue his conſcience tell him that he hath conquered all theſe allurementſ!

Chap. 57.

When thou performeſt any thing that thou haſt reſolued, bee not aſhamed of the publike eye, what euer the vulgars cenſure bee of thee. For if the act bee vnlawfull, then abhorre to reſolue of ſuch a thing, but if it be not, why ſhouldſt thou feare a falſe reprehenſion?

Chap. 58.

As in this propoſition, It is Daie, and it is Night, the partes beeing ſeuered, haue both their force in a true ſignification, but beeing conioyned, ſignifie no truth at all: So at a banquet to fall to the beſte diſhe at firſt & to flie al at the fayreſt, is for the bodies good that is fed therwith:but conſider the preſence of the gueſts, and it is an act incurring foule diſgrace. VVherfore whē thou art inuited to a feaſt, remember this, that the cates yt ar ſet before thee are to bee prized by the reſpect of the body: and yet ther is a reuerence due to the maiſter of the feaſt, and that muſt needs be obſerued.

Chap. 59.

If thou vndergo a function beyond thy power to diſcharge, yu muſt needes both performe that vndecently, and likewiſe thou neglecteſt another which thou mightſt execute with full decency.

Chap. 60.

Euen as in thy walkes thou haſt a care to auoyd the treading vppon nayles, or the wreſting of thy feete: So in the mayne courſe of thy life beware that thou hurt not thy minde, the Lady of thy works, and thine actions gouerneſſe. This if wee would looke well vnto in all our deſignes would make vs proceede vnto our enterprizes with farre more heed Epictetus heed and dilligence.

Chap. 61.

A mans purſe is limited by his body, as the ſhooe is by the foote. If thou keepe a meane, a meane will keepe thee: but if thou exceede thy bound, thou art in the direct way to headlong ruine: as it is euen in ones ſhooe: For if thou goeſt beyond thy neceſſary accoutrement therein, then firſt thou muſt haue a ſhooe buckled with Golde, and then a Veluet ſhooe, and then an imbrothered one: For the thing that once leapeth ouer the meane, runneth eternally without limitation.

Chap. 62.

A woman as ſoone as euer ſhee reacheth foureteene, obſerueth that men begin to carry an eye of obſeruation vpon her, and therfore ſhe perceiuing that there is no vſe of her but in a mans armes, beginneth to tricke vppe her ſelfe, and all the hope ſhee hath, is in her comely wearing of hir clothes. But it were a labour worthy commendations Epictetus to giue them all to vnderſtand that they haue no way in the worlde to procure them-ſelues credite, but by their modeſtie, ſhamefaſtneſſe and ſobriety.

Chap. 63.

The true ſigne of a ſtupid witte is, to bee alway conuerſant in corporall matters: As in long exerciſe of the body: in much eating, drinking, ſtooling, or in exceſſiue practiſe of Venus her preſcriptions. Theſe thinges are to bee ſodainely diſpatched: The ſerious deliberation of thinges is peculiar to the mentall fruition.

Chap. 64.

VVhen-ſoeuer any man hath offended thee in word or in worke, remember this, that it was an opinion that told him hee did as befitted him heerein: for it cannot bee that he ſhould ſatisfie thy liking in this acte, but his owne liking. Now if his iudgemente fayle him, why then hee that is deceiued hath the loſſe fallen on his ſide. For hee that ſhall define an vndiſcouered truth to bee a lye, wrongs not the truth herein, but is wronged him-ſelfe, by his miſconceite of the truth. Take but theſe groundes with thee, and thou ſhall neuer bee moleſted by the callumnies of others. For, thou haſt this repulſe for euery diſgrace that ſhall be obiected, It is but your opinion.

Chap. 65.

Euery thing may bee apprehended two wayes, eyther with toleration, or with impatience. If thy brother offer thee iniury, doe not conſider it is an iniurious part, for ſo thou ſhalt decline vnto the impatient apprehending of it, but reuolue this in thy thoughts, that he is thy brother, borne and brought vpp together with thee: ſo ſhalt thou apprehend the wrong done with a minde intending mitigation.

Chap. 66.

There is no coherence in theſe aſſertions, I am richer then you, and ſo I am better then you. I am more eloquent then you, therefore I am your better: there is more a great deale in theſe: I am richer then you: therefore my wealth is aboue yours. I am more eloquent then you: therfore, my pleading excee deth yours. But thou thy ſelfe art neither wealth it ſelfe nor eloquence.

Chap. 67.

If any man be briefe in his bathing (or in any other exerciſe) thou maiſt not ſay that he hath done it badly, but briefly.If any one drinke much wine, ſay not that hee hath drunke badly, but largely. For before thou cenſure him, how knoweſt thou that hee hath offended herein. So ſhalt thou get the true knowledge when to cenſure the things thou ſeeſt, and when to approoue them.

Chap. 68.

Neuer profeſſe thy ſelfe a Philoſopher, neuer diſpute of learning amongſt the vnlearned. Neuer diſcourſe at a feaſt of the beſt formes of eating or drinking, but eate and drinke as beſt befitteth thee. And remember that this was Socrates continuall courſe, for auoyding of oſtentation:they that deſired hee ſhould commend them to the Philoſophers, frequented his company, and hee lead them away, vnto them whom they deſired to follow: So eaſily did hee ſuffer him-ſelfe to bee neglected.

Chap. 69.

If thou chance to be preſent at any diſcourſe of the precepts of learning, held in an vnlearned audience, be it thy ſtudy to bee ſilent: for it is a dangerous thing to ſpeake any thing with-out due premeditation. If any one call thee an ignorant creature, and thou feeleſt not thy ſelfe offended herewith, know that thou haſt laide a good foundation for knowledge. For the ſheepe doe not bring their fodder to the ſhepheards, and ſhew them what they haue eaten, but decocting the meate they haue feede vppon, giue the proofe hereof in their wooll, and in their milke.Let not therefore the vulgar bee eare-witneſſe of thy words, but eye-witneſſe of thy workes, which are the effects following the due diſgeſtiō of verbal precepts.

Chap. 70.

Art thou parſimonious in the keeping of thy bodye? then be not proud of it. Dooſt thou drinke water? let no ordinary occaſion make thee affirme ſo much vnto others. If thou reſolue to vnder-take any paines for thine owne benefite, and not for others, doe not proclaime it before the Gods, but if by chance thou bee greatly a thirſt, reſtraine thy deſire by ſpitting forth the water that thou haſt taſted, but when thou haſt done, do not tell this to any other.

Chap. 71.

It is a true marke of vulgar baſeneſſe for a man to expect neither good nor harme from him-ſelfe, but all from externall euents. Contrarywiſe the true note of a Philoſopher is to repoſe all his expectation, vpon him-ſelfe alone.

Chap. 72.

Theſe are the tokens of proficience in goodneſſe: to reprehend no man, to praiſe or diſpraiſe no man, to traduce no man, to be ſilent in ones owne commendations, touching his place, or knowledge: to lay the fault vpon ones ſelfe in all his encombrances: to contemne thoſe that praiſe him in his owne heart: to auoide the defence of him-ſelfe in any reprehenſion: to walke like a weake man, ſoftly, and to haue a perpetuall care, that the ſtate hee aymeth at, bee not ſnatched from him ere hee can attaine it: to include all his deſires in himſelfe: to lay his whole diſlike vpon the oppoſites vnto our naturall goods: to beare a moderate affect in all things: to neglect his being held a foole, or an ignorant fellow: and finally, to keepe a guard ouer himſelfe, as ouer a treacherous enemy.

Chap. 73.

If thou ſhalt happen to heare any man brag of his faculty in vnderſtanding & expounding the writings of Chryſippus, ſay thus to thy ſelfe: had not Chryſippus writte obſcurely, this fellow had wanted matter to boaſt of. But what is the ayme of my ſtudy? the knowledge of nature, and the following of that knowledge, who ſhall teach mee then? Chryſippus ſaith one. Well, to Chryſippus I goe. But now cannot I conceiue him. Well, then muſt I goe ſeeke an expoſitour: ſo then as yet I haue done nothing worth nameing. But when I haue gotten an expoſitor, then remaineth it that I make vſe of all his inſtructions, and there is the matter of moſt moment. But if I ſtand onely in admiration of his acute expoſitions, why then what prooue I but a Grammarian in ſteed of a Philoſopher? ſauing onely this, that I read Chryſippus in ſtead of Homer. Therefore when any one intreateth me to read Chryſippus to him, I am aſhamed, becauſe I cannot confirme my doctrine with my deeds.

Chap. 74.

Be it thy care to obſerue all theſe as decretall lawes, neuer to bee violated, but that repentance muſt follow the tranſgreſſor. And what-ſo euer other men do talke of thee, contemne it, for thou haſt not their tongues vnder thy diſpoſing.

Chap. 75.

How long will it bee ere thou faſten thine holde vpon excellence, & abſtain wholly from violation of reaſons poſitiue degrees? Thou haſt as good rules giuen thee for thy reformation, as could poſſibly bee preſcribed, and thou haſt imbraced them: Why then doſt thou looke for any more maiſters, and deferreſt to reduce thy ſelfe vnto order, vntill ſome ſuch man appeare: Thou art now paſt a boy: add maturity enſtileth thee a man. If therefore thou continue ſtill in thy neglect, adding delaye vnto delay, purpoſe to purpoſe, and putting of all things vntill to morrowe, will it not bee as apparant as the light, that thou ſhalt neuer profitte any thing, but liue and dye a man of baſe condition? aſſure thy ſelfe it will. Bee wiſe then, and put thy ſelfe into the courſe of a full man, and make that which thou ſeeſt to bee good, the perpetuall lawe, and inuiolable rule of thine actions. And when thou meeteſt with labour or delight, with honor or with diſgrace, then tell thy ſelfe that now thou art in the Olympike games; that now there is no ſtarting back: and that onely our ſtay, or encombrance, may either detaine thy progreſſe long, or deſtroy it for euer. Thus became Socrates the man that he was, being his owne furtherer in all attempts, and following the directions of none but Reaſon. And as for thee, though thou beeſt not a Socrates, yet oughteſt thou to liue as one that intendeth to attaine to Socrates his perfection.

Chap. 76.

The firſt, and moſt neceſſary precept in all Philoſophye, concerneth the vſe of their decrees, as in this, of ſpeaking euer-more the truth. The next, diſpoſeth of the demonſtrations, as in this; why muſt one ſpeake euer-more truelye? the third, confirmeth and diſtinguiſheth both the former, as thus; How can this bee a demonſtration? what is a demonſtration? what is the demonſtration here? what is y^e conſequence? what is the difference? which is the truth? which is the falſhood? So that this third place dependeth neceſſarily vpon the ſecond, and the ſecond vpon the firſt: But the baſe, the foundation, and moſt neceſſary place of all, is the firſt. But wee take another courſe, wee keepe (all of vs) a terrible coyle with the third place, beating our braines wholye about that, whileſt the firſt in the meane ſpace lieth out of all euſtome, vnreſpected of any man. And therefore wee doe incurre the offence of lying: yet euery one hath the demonſtration that one ſhould not lye at his tongues end.

Chap. 77.

In all our enterpriſes wee ſhould pray thus: Iupiter thou high and holy God, and thou ô changeleſſe Fate, direct mee to the end, that your immutable determinations haue aſſigned mee; for I will follow your appointments moſt cheerefully: and if I would not doe ſo, I were a villaine, and yet muſt forward vnto what you haue allotted, whether I would or no.

Chap. 78.

Hee that can adapt his affects vnto neceſſity, herein performeth a part of wiſdome, and is in ſome ſorte priuie to the deſignes of the deities.

Chap. 79.

And oh what a worthy ſaying was that third ſpeach of his. Why if it bee GodS pleaſure, Crito, GodS pleaſure be fullfilled: It is in the power of Anytus and Melitus to kill mee, but to doe mee any hurt, is a thing ſurmounting all their proiects whatſo-euer.

The end of Epictetus his Manuall.

The table of Cebes, the Theban Philoſopher: Containing a preſcript method for the well ordering of the life of man.

As wee were walking in the temple of Saturne, and viewing the diuerſe gifts of charitable perſons, amongſt the reſt wee eſpied a table, hung vp before the doore of the Oratorie, con- tayning many ſtrange, and vncouth reſemblances, the meaning whereof wee could not poſſibly coniecture, for the picture bare neither the forme of citty, nor of campe, but it conſiſted of three parkes as it were, or encloſures: one, a large one, and within that, two other, a greater and a leſſer. In the greateſt encloſure of all, there was a gate, about the which was a great con- courſe of people drawne: & within, there were a many in the formes of women. In the entrance, there ſtood the picture of a graue aged man, who ſeemed to giue ſome directions to the per: ſons as they entred, much talke had wee about the ſignification of this potrai- ture, but none could conceiue truely what it ſhould intend. At laſt, as we were in this doubt, an ancient man that ſtood by, ſtept vnto vs, and told vs: Stran- gers (quoth he) it is no won- der if this picture trouble you to vnderſtand the true meaning thereof: for there are but fewe of our owne Cittizens that can giue the true interpretati- on hereof as hee that offe- red it, intended. For it was none of this city that gaue it, but a ſtranger, a worthy man, and a true follower of Pythagoras and Parmeni- des, both in doctrine and conuerſation, comming to this Citty, dedicated both this Temple, and this Table vnto the ſeruice of God Saturne. Did you know the man Sir, quoth I? yes, quoth hee, that I did, and was an auditor of his admired doctrine a long time, for euen in his yonger yeares, his inſtructions bare great perfection, and luſtre: many a time haue I heard him teach the expoſition of this table vnto his follow- ers. I beſeech you ſir, quoth I, if your buſineſſe be not of greater import, to expound the meaning hereof vnto vs, for I aſſure you, our deſires to know it are vehement. ſtrangers (quoth hee) and my leaſure ſerueth mee to ſatiſfie you, but you muſt take one caueat with you, more then you are aware off, and that is this: the expoſi- tion hereof is attended with much danger. What dan- ger ſir, quoth I? Mary this quoth he: if you giue gōod eare vnto the diſcourſe that you ſhall heare, and fix your memories with a true vnderſtanding, it will crowne you with wiſedome and beatitude:if not, it will plunge you in a boundleſſe depth of all dulneſſe & miſery. For this explanation reſembleth the riddle of Sphynx, wherwith ſhee vſed to intrappe poore paſſengers, he that could vnderſtand it, paſſed ſafe, but hee that did not was ſure to pay for his ignorance with his life. Euen ſo is it here. For Ignorance is a Sphynx vnto man. And this obſcure picture, conteyneth a deſcription of all the good and euill that lackeyeth the life of man: As alſo of all that which is indifferent and pertaketh of neyther. Now if a man conceiue not this aright, it will not diſpatch him at once, as the Sphynx did thoſe that fell into her clawes: But it will infect his whole life with a continual corroſion; and ſuch a torment as thoſe ſeek, who being condemned & giued, do euery moment expect the hand of the hangman. But contrarywiſe, if one apprehend it with a true conceit, Ignorance breaketh his owne necke, and the whole courſe of his life that vnderſtandeth it aright; ſhal be repleniſhed with perfect beatitude. Marke my words therefore well, and lette them not go in at one eare and out at another. Lord God(quoth I)how haue you inflamed vs with a deſire to heare this relation, if all be thus:yes aſſuredly quoth he it is euen thus. Proceed ſir I beſeech you quoth I, for wee bee no negligent auditors in a matter of ſo great hope, or ſo great hurt vnto the hearers. So the old man lifting vp his ſtaffe, and pointing to the picture: See you this incloſer, quoth he? Yes very well: why then marke me: This is called LIFE: and the great multitude you ſee flocke about the gate, are ſuch as are to enter into the the courſe of this life. And that old man whom ye ſee with a paper in one hand, & ſeeming to point out ſomething therein with the other, is called, Lifes GENIVS. Hee inſtructeth thoſe that enter, what methode to obſerue in their courſe of life, and layeth them downe what they muſt follow, vpon perill of their owne deſtructions. I pray you what kinde of life (ſir) doth hee direct them to follow, ſaid I? or how doth hee will them to proceed? See you not a Throne, quoth hee, neere vnto the gate as the people goe in, and a woman ſitting thereon witth a viſor on her face, in queint apparell, and a cup in her hand? Yes that I doe, quoth I, what is ſhee? It is IMPOSTVRE, quoth hee, that ſedu ceth all the world. What doth ſhe? ſhe drinketh of her owne brewing vnto all men liuing, what drinke is it? It is Error, quoth hee, and Ignorance: and how then? why when they haue taſted of this cuppe, then enter they, the courſe of life: Why but tell mee ſir, doe all then drinke of Errour? All quoth hee, but ſome indeede drinke more, and other ſome leſſe. And behold, ſee you not a crue of women atttired like whores, there within the gate? yes, ſir. Why thoſe are called Opinions, Deſires, and Pleaſures, and as ſoone as any come in at the gate, preſently theſe run dancing to them, fall to dalliance with them and ſo lead them whether they liſt. Whether lead they them, ſaid I? Some to ſecurity, ſaid hee, & ſome to ruine, by Impoſtures meanes. Oh worthy ſir, how dangerous a drinke haue you told me of! Nay, when they come firſt vnto men, quoth hee, they make them promiſes of all delights, of perpetuall ſecurity in perfect beatitude: now the men, being drunke with the Error, and Ignorance that Impoſture preſented them, cannot for their liues finde the right way to that good courſe, but goe wandring about they know not whether, as you ſee them deſcribed in the picture. And you ſee them that were entred before, goe round about as theſe women direct them. I doe indeed, quoth I; but what woman is that, that ſtands vpon that round ſtone, ſeeming as though ſhee were blinde, and carrying a ſemblance of madneſſe in her geſture: that ſame quoth he is FORTVNE, her blindneſſe is not ſingle, but accompanied with madneſſe, and deafeneſſe. Why what doth ſhee there then? Shee wanders about, quoth he, taking from one, and giuing to another, and by and by taketh that away which ſhee gaue but euen now, and beſtoweth it vpon a third, with-out all reaſon or conſtancie; and therefore her token there ſpeaketh her nature at full. Which is that, quoth I? her ſtanding vpon that round ſtone. What is the meaning of that? that her gifts are neuer ſecure nor certaine. For hee that buildeth his truſt vpon them, ſhall bee ſure one day to pay deerely for his credulity. What names beare they? They are called Fooles: How chanceth it that ſome of them weepe, and ſome laugh?why are they not all in one form? They that laugh and reioice are Fortunes fauourites, and ſalute her by the title of Proſperous. But they that wring their hands & waile, are ſuch as ſhee hath depriued of that which ſhee had giuen them before, and they call her Aduerſe fortune. What are her giftes then, that they ſhould make the looſers lament, and the receiuers reioyce? Her gifts, are Reputed goods: and what be thoſe?Ritches, Nobility, children, glory, ſoueraignty, Empire and ſuch like. And I pray ſir, hold you theſe for good? Of that heereafter, quoth hee: let vs now make an end of the tables expoſition. With all mine heart ſir. You ſee now that beeing paſt that gate, there is another encloſure, lying higher vppe, and ſeauen women accoutred like curtizans, ſtanding without at the enterance. All this I ſee. Well, one of theſe is called Incontinence, another Luxury, another Auarice, and another, Flattery: & what ſtand they for there? They watch when Fortune beſtoweth any thing vpō any man: how then? then they reioyce, and embrace him, and flatter him, and intreate him to ſtaye with them, promiſing him a life, fraught with all the delight that the moſt vnbounded affect can deſire. If any one doe like this, and tarry with them, hee is tickled with falſe delight, that free imagineth his life an heauen, when indeed it is nothing ſo. For when his vnderſtanding returneth, then hee will ſoone perceiue that hee hath not eaten at their charges, but that they haue eaten vp him, and when they had ſo done, ſent him away with his ſound burden of deriſio. And now hauing brought al the benefits of fortune vnto nothing, hee muſt turne drudge to thoſe drabs, ſuffer all their imperious iniuries, and vndergo all vnſeemely offices for their pleaſures, as couſenage, ſacriledge, treachery, the euery, and all the reſt of that vngratious beadroll. And when all thoſe impious trades fayle him, then is hee packt ouer into the hands of Puniſhment. Puniſhment, which is ſhe? Doe you not perceiue a little grate in the picture, behinde thoſe women, and within that, as it were an obſcure dungeon? Yes. And a great many women all in tattred ragges, and forlorne ſhapes? I ſee them alſo Why that ſame that holdeth the ſcourge, is called Puniſhment: ſhee that leaneth her head vppon her knee, is Sad neſſe. Shee that teareth her hayre, hight Sorrow. There ſtandes one alſo behinde them, all deformed, meager, and naked, and a woman with him, bearing the ſame figure of leane deformity. Who bee they? The mans name, quoth he, is Anguiſh, and the womans Deſperation: vnto theſe is the ruined man paſſed ouer, and confined to liue in dolefull extremitie. From thence they driue him farther, into the Iayle of Infelicity, and there ſhall his captiuity be endleſſe vnleſſe Repentance bee his baile. Why, what can ſhe do? Mary ſhee can deliuer him out of this huge deluge of miſeries, and bring him acquainted with another Opinion, and another Deſire, who will guide him vnto the pallace of True Inſtruction: and will alſo proferre to conduct him vnto Falſe Inſtruction. And how then, quoth I? If hee embrace that Opinion that giueth him directions in the way of True vnderstanding hee ſhal be thereby purified, and reformed, and runne the reſt of his liues courſe in the plentitude of perfectiō, beyond the reach of all future calamity:otherwiſe, if he do not ſo, Falſe instruction will ſubuert him with a new deceipt. O God (ſaid I) how dangerous is this laſt difference! But what ſhape hath this ſame Falſe Inſtruction? Behold yonder other encloſure, ſaith he. So I doe ſir. At the portall thereof ſitteth a woman in neate and ſeemly habite:the vulgar and the vainer ſorte call her Inſtruction, whereas indeed hir true name is falſe inſtruction. Now they that meane to paſſe vnto true Inſtruction? Do all come firſt vnto this woman. Why is there no other way then this vnto true Inſtruction? Yes that there is. Who are they then that walke about within that incloſure? They are the followers of falſe Inſtruction, imagining in themſelues (but al too erroneouſly) that they inioy the company of true inſtruction. And what are their profeſſions? Some of them are Poets, ſome Orators, ſome Logitians, ſome Muſitians, Arithmetique, Geometry, Aſtrology, Phyloſophy, Criticiſme, and all other profeſſions haue baſtards within this ring: nay here are profeſſed voluptuaries alſo. But what women are thoſe that conuerſe with them in the habites of thoſe former, amongſt whome you reckoned Incontinence and her fellowes? They are the ſelf-ſame. What, do they come hether alſo? That they doe, but not ſo ordinarily as elſe-where, into the firſt encloſure. And do the Opinions come thus far alſo. Yes verily doe they: for the drinke that Impoſture giueth theſe, euen at firſt, is not yet out of their heads, they doe as yet ſmell of the dregs of Error and Ignorance: nor ſhall they euer be quitte of their Opinions, or their other vices vntill they renounce the cōpany of Falſe Inſtruction, and take them-ſelues to the true courſe, & taking the potion that is called Errors purgatiō, thereby vomit vp all ye euils that offended their mindes, as their Opinions, their Ignorance, and all their other enormities: for ſo ſhall their conſciences be perfectly cured. But as long as they remaine with falſe Inſtruction, they ſhall neuer be throughly ſound, nor ſhall their diſciplines helpe them away with any one incouenience. Which is the way then that leadeth vnto true inſtruction. Why look you here, ſee you this high place that ſeemes as deſart and vnhabited. Well ſir, I ſee it. Then you ſee that little gate, and the way there before the gate, which looks as if it were but little vſed, lying in ſuch a ſteepe diſcent of that craggy rock. That I ſee alſo: you ſee more-ouer that hill there, that is enuironed on eyther ſide with inacceſſible cliffes, hauing onely one narrow path whereby to aſcend it: True ſir. That ſame path, is all the way wee haue to true Inſtruction. Truly ſir mee thinketh it is almoſt impoſſible to get vp it. You marke that ſteepe rock then by that other hill. So I doe. And ſee you not two luſty and comely Viragoes ſtanding thervppon, & reaching forth their hands in manner of a cheerfull inuitation. I ſee them well, but how call you their names? One of them hight Continency, and the other Tollerance: and they are ſiſters. VVhy doe they reach forth their hands? They incourage the trauelers that come that way, to bee of good cheere, and to defie deſperation the daughter of ſluggiſhneſſe; aſſuring them, that after a little toile, the whole reſidue of their life ſhal be topt with happy tranquillity, and that if they will climbe but a little, all the way after ſhall bee moſt plaine and eaſie. But when they come to the rock how ſhal they doe to aſcend? I ſee no meane they haue to mount ſo ſteep a cliffe. True, but the two ſiſters do come downe them-ſelues from the toppe, and lending them their handes, pull them vppe by degrees. After they are gotten vp a little way, they bidde them reſt a little, and then they bring Fortitude & Confidence vnto them, and paſſe their wordes to bring them to the preſence of True Inſtruction, ſhewing them how plaine and how pleaſant the tract is, now that they haue ſurmounted the former difficulty, and how cleare it is from all cragges and incombrances, as you ſee in the Table. So indeed it ſeemes. And ſee you not that wood, and before it, as it were a pleaſant launde, or meade? Al full of light & delight? Right: and in the midſt therof another encloſure w^t a gate vnto it? There is ſo: but how cal you that encloſure? mary it is called ye habitation of the bleſſed, for in that place are al the vertues reſident w^t beatitude. Truly it lookes like a delightfull abode. You ſee then that goodly matron that ſtands by the gate, with a conſtant eie of a midle age, rather inclining to fiftie, in a plaine and vngarniſhed habite, and ſtanding vppon a ſtone not round but cubike, and directly ſquare? Shee hath two other women alſo neare her that ſeem to be hir daughters. So they do. The mid moſt of theſe three is called Inſtruction: ſhe of the one hand, Truth, and ſhe on the other, Perſwaſion. But why doth Inſtruction ſtand vppon a ſquare ſtone? To ſhewe that the path which leadeth vnto her is faire and firme: and that her gifts doe bleſſe the receiuer with fruits of ſecurity. What doth ſhee giue? She giueth Confidence, Security, & Acquittance from troubles. And what vſe of thoſe? By theſe man vnderſtandeth that his life is now to continue voide of all perturbations. Oh glorious, oh gratious gifts quoth I! but why doth ſhe ſtand without the encloſure? to cure the trauellers, & giue them her drink before they enter, and then to admit them paſſage in, vnto the vertues. How is this good ſir quoth I? In truth I conceiue you not. You ſhall, quoth hee. It is heere, as if a perſon greatly diſeaſed ſhould betake his body to the cure of the Phiſitian: now hee, firſt of all, purgeth away the cauſes, and nutriment of the malady, and then corroborates the vitalls, and finally confirmeth the body in perfect ſoundneſſe. Now if the perſon had contemned the counſels of Phiſicke, hee had been deſeruedly giuen ouer to the tyranny of his diſeaſe. This I conceiue, quoth I. Well, euen thus quoth hee, do men approach this ſtation of Inſtruction, which as ſoone as they arriue at, preſently ſhee cureth them, giuen her owne receipt vnto them which purgeth out all their ingulphed euills, as by vomit or eiection. What are the euils they caſt vp. Error and Ignorance, both which they drunke from the hand of Impoſture, Arrogance alſo, Auarice, Deſire, Incontinence, Anger, and all the poyſons which they ſwallowed downe while they were in the firſt encloſure. And whether doth ſhee ſend them hauing purged them? Shee letteth them in vnto Knowledge and the other vertues. Which bee they? Why ſee you not a company of faire & modeſt matrons there within the gate, amongſt whome there is not one that ſeemeth painted, or curiouſly adorned, as they before were all? I ſee them: what are their names? The fore-moſt of them, hight knowledge, the reſt are her ſiſters, called by the names of Fortitude, Iuſtice, Integrity of life, Temperance, Modeſty, Liberality, Continency, & Clemency. Oh goodly conſort! quoth I. How great is humane hope? your hopes quoth he ſhal be complete, if you conceiue this relation aright, and apply it vnto your courſes in the world. Sir, aſſure your ſelfe, quoth I, wee will omitte no paines herein. Then ſhall your endes bee crowned with ſecurity, quoth hee. But whether doe theſe Vertues lead the man that enters? Vnto their mother. What is ſhee? Her name is Beatitvde. Of what quality is ſhe? See you not a way that aſcendeth that height there, whereon the tower of the three encloſures is founded? Behold there a faire and flouriſhing matrone, enthroned in ſtate, at the portch of the ſayd tower in goodly raiment, yet vntaxable of profuſeneſſe, with a crown of roſes about her beauteous temples. You ſay right ſir, what is ſhe? ſhe is the perſon, that is called Beatitude. And when one commeth to her, what doth ſhee? Shee crowneth him (quoth he) with delight adioyned vnto all the other vertues, as they are crowned that are victors in dangerous conflicts:what conflicts hath he bin in, ſaid I? In many ſore ones, quoth hee: and hath conquered many a ſauage beaſt that wounded him pitifully, & ouerthrew him often: yet brought he al their fury vnder, and now is become his owne man, making thoſe ſauages ſerue him now, as hee was forced to ſtoope to them before: What beaſts are they you ſpeake of, ſir? I would faine know that. I ſpeake of Ignorance and Error, firſt: are not they true beaſts? yes, and cruel ones too, quoth I. And then, quoth he I ſpeak of Sorrovv, Anguiſh, Auarice, Intemperance, and the whole Lernean fen of vicious habits. All theſe hath he now at command, whereas before they cōmanded him. O renowned victory, quoth I, and memorably performed! but I pray ſir tell me this, what force is there in the crowne ſhee giueth him? A bleſſed force (young man) there is in that crown. He whoſe browes it encircleth, ſhall be really bleſſed, and lift vp beyond the pitch of miſery: nor ſhall his bliſſe relye vppon others, but bee fully eſtabliſhed in him-ſelf. Oh what a conqueſt is there! But what doth hee when he hath this crowne? whether goeth he then? Then the vertues bring him backe the ſame way that he came, and ſhewe him thoſe that liue there beneath, how miſerable and how miſchieuous their eſtate is, and how they daſh the ſhip of their life againſt the rocks, keeping no courſe but rouing at randome without all care or compaſſe: and how they are ledde away to bondage by their foes, ſome by Incontinence, ſom by Arrogance, ſom by Auarice, ſome by Vainglory, ſome by one mean of ruine & ſome by another. And out of theſe giues of perdition they haue no meanes in the world to redeeme themſelues, but there they lye in fetters of perturbation, all their liues long. The reaſon hereof is, they haue forgottē the inſtruction that Lifes Genius gaue them at their ingreſſe, and ſo cannot light of the true courſe of life. In truth you ſay well, but why ſhould the Vertues goe to ſhew him the place and perills that hee had already paſſed? I’le tell you why. At his former paſſage of them, hee conceiued not the halfe of their maleuolence, nor vnderſtood the actions that were done there, almoſt any thing: but was altogether enuironed with doubts, becauſe of the drinke of Error & Ignorance which hee had taſted, which made him imagine that for good, which had no goodneſſe in it, and ſo in like maner of euill. Whereby hee was thruſt into the courſe of corruption aſ well as the reſt were. But now that he hath attained the knowledge of conueniences, hee both beholdeth the miſery of others, and enioyeth felicity himſelfe. But when hee hath obſerued the misfortunes of theſe men, what doth hee then? or whether goeth he? faith euen whether hee lift himſelfe. For he is as ſecure in euery place as if hee were in the caue of Corycum: and let him liue were hee will, hee ſhall liue in honeſty and free from all, euen the leaſt encombrance. All men ſhal be as glad of his company as the ſicke perſon is of the Phiſitians why but ſhall he neuer more ſtand in feare of thoſe beaſts you ſpoke of? ſhall they haue no more power to touch him? no, not a iot. Hee ſhall ſtand at defiance with Sorrow, Trouble, Incontinence, Auarice, Need, and all other extreames whatſoeuer: hee ſhall check and curbe them now as he pleaſeth, who before plagued him worſe then the ſtings of adders, and as the ſerpents that kill all other things with their poyſon, medle not with the viper, becauſe his owne venime is an Amulet againſt all theirs: ſo likewiſe ſhall no euill approach this perfect man, becauſe in himſelfe hee hath a preſeruatiue againſt all their infections. All this is well, quoth I: but I pray you ſir tell mee this: I ſee a great company deſcending the hill as it were, ſome with crownes on their heads, ſeeming to exult and reioyce, and others without crownes looking like deſpayring men, with their heads and legges all bruiſed, and diuers women ſeeme to detaine them: what are theſe? They that weare crownes, are the adopted ſons of inſtruction, and reioyce at their adoption. The other, are ſome of them reiected by her, and ſo fallne into miſerable eſtate: others, beeing weakened by Sloath, when they had gotten vp as farre as Tolerance, turned back againe, and ſo ſell a wandring they knew not whether. But what are the women that follow them? There is Sorrowe, Trouble, Deſperation, Ignominy, and Ignorance. Why then belike all the miſchieues that may bee, doe follow them at the heeles. So they do, and when they come back into the firſt incloſure, vnto Luxury, and Incontinence, they lay all the blame on them-ſelues, and fall a curſing Inſtruction, and al that are in the way to her, as wretches, & vnfortunate fooles, that leaue the tract that theſe now do tread, and the pleaſures of the firſt encloſure, to goe ſeeke had I wiſt and hunt out a courſe of ſuch vnhappineſſe, refuſing to ſtay and ſhare with them in their delightfull goods. And what are their goods? Shall I tell you in a word? Luxury and Incontinence. For like vnto beaſts, they are all for the belly, and imagine the filling of that the full fruite of all their expected good. But what call you the other women that come downe there, laughing and making ſemblance of mirth? They are Opinions: they carry men vppe vnto Inſtuction, and when they haue done, come backe, and tell the reſt how gratiouſly thoſe they preſented were receiued, and how they are now in ſtate of bleſſedneſſe. Why but doe theſe Opinions goe in vnto the vertues? Oh no: it is altogether vnlawfull for Opinion to come in the ſight of knowledge, they doe onely deliuer the men ouer vnto Inſtruction, whom ſhee receiuing, they goe their waies to fetch more, as ſhippes do, that hauing vnladed their fraught make preſently forth for a new voiage, taking in other commodities. In truth ſir, your compariſon is paſſing good, quoth I but you told vs not yet what it is that Liues Genius ſayth vnto thoſe that are to enter the courſe of life. Hee biddeth them bee of good cheere, quoth hee: and bee you of good cheere alſo, for I will not keepe a letter of the expoſition frō you: we thanke you moſt humbly ſir, ſayd we all. Then hee, reaching forth his ſtaffe againe, pointed vp, ſaying, ſee you that blind woman vpon the round ſtone there, whom euen now I told you hight Fortune? Yes. The Genius bids them, neuer to giue credence vnto her, neuer to imagine any ſolidity in her bounties, neuer to hold her gifts as your proper goods: for that when ſhee liſt, ſhee will take them from one, & beſtow them on another, magure all contradiction, it is her ordinarye practiſe. And therefore hee warneth them, not to delight in her beneuolence, nor to greeue at her frowardneſſe: Neuer to bee conquered either by her curſtneſſe or her cureſies, to giue her neither praiſes nor curſes, ſeeing ſhee doth nothing with diſcretion, but hurleth all about at ſix and ſeauen, as I told you already. Therefore doth this Genius bid vs neuer wonder at her exploits, nor play the badde borrowers to count another mans mony our owne, and to bee offended, and hold our ſelfe iniured, if it be demanded againe: forgetting that our credite lent vs it, vpon condition to haue it reſtored without contention. Thus (ſaith this Genius) muſt we ſtand affected to the benefits of fortune, and to remember well, that it is one of her old trickes to giue, and take againe, and then to giue one farre more, and preſently to take away all euery iot, both what ſhee gaue laſt, and what ſhe left before. He bids vs therfore take hir gifts, & hauing them, make haſt with them to that firme, and conſtant kinde of bounty: VVhich is that? That which Inſtruction giueth to thoſe that come ſafe to her Tower to aſke it. And what giueth ſhee? See giueth the True knowledge of profitable thinges, a guift of vnchangeable goodneſſe and ſecurity. To her therfore hee wils them all to make haſt, and when they come to Luxury, and Incontinence, the two women afore-named, to paſſe by them ſpeedily, and ſtoppe the eares vnto their inueyg’ed perſwaſions, and ſo to haſten on vntill they come vnto Falſe Inſtruction. There hee aduiſeth them to make a little ſtay, and take what they like of her for their Viaticum, the reſt of their iourney. And then to ſcowre away with all ſpeede vnto the Pallace of True Inſtruction. This is the charge that the Genius of life layeth vppon all that are vppon enterance into the firſt encloſure: Hee that eyther refuſeth it, or miſaplyeth it, comes home by vnhappineſſe and ruine. This mine honeſt friendes is the expoſition of this Table: If you would bee further ſatiſfied in any thing elſe, propound it, and I will reſolue you. Gramercy, curteous ſir. I pray you then what is it that their Genius wiſheth them to take at the ſtation of Falſe Inctruction? Such things as they ſhall neede. And what bee thoſe? Letters, Languages and Diſciplines which Plato called the bridles of youth, keeping them out of worſe imployments. Muſt hee that will paſſe to True Inſtruction needes take theſe heere, or may hee lette them alone if hee pleaſe? Hee need not vnleſſe hee liſt: They are conuenient, but wholy impertinent to vertue. No? are they not neceſſary for the bettering of our vnderſtandings? Yes, but our goodneſſe may haue increaſe without them, yet are they not altogether vn-vſefull. For we may heare a doctrine reade by another, and yet it were not amiſſe if wee could reade it in the language our ſelues, then wee benefit by his reading neuertheleſſe: ſo that one may bee without theſe diſciplines, well enough. I but are not theſe that vnderſtand the artes of a better hability to haue goodneſſe infuſed into them, then others that want thoſe diſciplines? No, how ſhould that bee, quoth hee, when they are as badly conceited of the true nature of good and euill, and as black with the pitchy touch of vitiouſneſſe, as others that vnderſtand nothing? It is an eaſiy thing for one to bee a deepe ſcholler, and a maiſter of all the diſciplines, and yet bee as prone to drunkeneſſe, intemperance, avarice, iniury, treachery, yea and madneſſe, as he that neuer ſawe the in-ſide of a ſchoole-houſe. There are plenty of thoſe examples, wee neede not goe farre to fetch them. And therfore what prerogatiue hath learning in the reformation of a mans exorbitances? Truely none quoth I, if things goe thus. But why then are thoſe ſchollers in the ſecond encloſure, as nearer neighbours to true Inſtruction then the reſt? Ablaſſe, ſaith hee, what good gette they by that; When wee ſee often that diuers paſſe out of the firſt encloſure, from Incontinence and the other vices, vnto true Inſtruction without once reſting amongſt thoſe Diſciplinarians? What man then can avouch their eſtate better becauſe of their place? They are either more dull, or more idle then others? Why ſayd I, how is that? Becauſe, ſaith hee, though thoſe of the ſecond encloſure were cleare from all faults elſe, yet this alone ſtickes by them for euer, To profeſſe to know that, Whereof they are vtterly ignorant: which conceite of themſelues, maketh them farre more ſlacke in the queſt of true Inſtruction. Againe, doe you not ſee how the Opinions come flocking out of the firſt enclo ſure vnto them? Theſe are the cauſes why their e ſtate is not an haire better then the others, vnleſſe Repentance and they fall once acquainted, and that they bee veryly perſwaded that they dwell not with True Inſtruction, but with her counterfeit, which draweth them into errors, and ſo ſtoppeth all the meanes of their reformation and paſſage to ſecurity. Wherefore ſtrangers, quoth hee, vnleſſe you take this courſe, and beate this diſcourſe of mine ouer and ouer, vntill you haue gotten the habite thereof ( to which ende you muſt continue an often reuolution thereof in your meditation, and make it your thoughts principall practiſe) you ſhall neuer make vſe of any word that you haue heard: Sir, wee will doe our beſt endeuours. But I pray reſolue vs this: Why are not thoſe things worthy the name of goods which Fortune giueth vnto mans vſe? as life, health, ritches, honours, children, conqueſts, and ſuch other her bounties: and why are not their contraries euills? this aſſertiō ſeemeth ſtrange and incredible vnto vs. Wel quoth hee, be ſure then that you anſwer directly vnto that I ſhall demand. I will, quoth I: whether is it good for him that is an euill liuer, to liue, at all or no. It is not good I thinke ( quoth I) for him to liue, but rather euil. How then can life (ſaith he) bee good at all, if it bee euill for him? Becauſe (quoth I) as to the badde liuer, life is badde, ſo to the good liuer, life is good. So then, you hold life both good and badde. That I doe ſayd I. O beware of an abſurdity, (quoth hee.) It is impoſſible for one thing to bee good and euill. For ſo it ſhould bee both profitable and hurtfull, and likewiſe alwaies, both to bee affected and auoyded, and that both at one time. This is an abſurdity indeed, quoth I. But if hee that liueth badly, haue a badneſſe by liuing ſo, how can life but bee badde vnto that man? I but quoth hee, it is one thing to liue, and another to liue badly. That is true quoth I. So then life in it ſelfe is not bad. For if it were ſo, it would bee ſo to the beſt liues as well as the worſt: For all ſhould haue a life that ſhould be a badnes in itſelf. You ſay true. VVell then life beeing communicated, both to the good liues & the euil, to liue, of it ſelfe, is neither good nor euill, no more then cutting or burning is, both which are good in ſome diſeaſes, but hurtfull vnto all ſound bodies. So is this life: and therefore propoſe this to yourſelfe: whether had you rather liue bad ly, or die honourably? The latter ſhould be my choyce, quoth I. So then, quoth he, death in it ſelfe is no badde thing belike: for it is often times to bee preferred before life. Moſt true. Well then, ſicknes & health, haue one and the ſame reſpect. For occaſion may ſo fal out, that it befitteth not the ſicke man to recouer. It may be ſo. Good, waigh ritches then in the ſame ballance. Suppoſe that which is often ſeene: A man hath great wealth, and applyeth it to no good vſe: Many ſuch there are. Do not his ritches then helpe his beatitude any way? I think not, becauſe of his own badnes. VVhy then very well, it is not wealth, but wiſe Inſtruction that maketh a man happy. Surely ſo it ſeemes. How then can ritches be good, when they haue no power to better their poſſeſſors? They cannot indeed. VVel, it is befitting then that ſome ſhould not bee rich at all, becauſe they are ignorant of the true vſe of ritches. Nay I am of your mind in that. How then can that be any way pertaining to goodneſſe, which muſt bee often times withheld from the vſe of diuers perſons, ſo that he yt can vſe wealth, as wealth ſhould be vſed, may liue well, and hee that cannot muſt needes breake downe his owne quiet?you ſtrike on truth in all things, ſir. Laſtly (quoth he) it is the eſteeme of thoſe for goods, or the contempt of them as euils, that moleſteth and offendeth the cogitations of men, prizing them as thinges of ſuch excellent worth, and the onely conducts vnto the Court of happineſſe and this maketh thē vndergo all actions, euen of how wicked a front ſoeuer, onely for the attaynment of theſe gloſſes. Theſe accidents attend on all ſuch admirers of externall ſhewes, becauſe theirdull vnderſtandings can no way penetrate into the natures of thinges truly good, they are ſo graueled in the quick-ſands of erroneous Ignorance. The end of Cebes his Table.