Nec spes corde avidas, nec curam pascit inanem, Securus quo fata cadant.

He is not troubled with state matters, whether kingdomes thrive better by succession or election; whether Monarchies should be mixt, temperate, or absolute; the house of Ottomons and Austria is all one to him; he enquires not after Colonies or new discoveries; whether Peter were at Rome, or Constantines donation be of force; what comets or new stars signifie, whether the earth stand or move, there be a new world in the Moon, or infinite worlds, &c. He is not touched with fear of invasions, factions, or emulations;

Felix ille animi, divisque simillimus ipsis, Quem non mordaci resplendens gloria fuco Solicitat, non fastosi mala gaudia luxus, Sed tacitos sinit ire dies, & paupere cultu Exigit innocuæ tranquilla silentia vitæ.

An happy Soule, and like to God himself, Whom not vain glory macerates or strife, Or wicked joyes of that proud swelling pelfe, But leads a still, poor and contented life.

A secure, quiet, blissful state he hath, if he could acknowledge it.

But here is the misery, that he will not take notice of it; he repines at rich mens wealth, brave hangings, dainty fare, as Simonides objecteth to Hieron, he hath all the pleasures of the world, in lectis eburneis dormit, vinum phialis bibit, optimis unguentis delibuitur, he knows not the affliction of Joseph, stretching himself on ivory beds, and singing to the sound of the viol.

And it troubles him that he hath not the like; there is a difference (he grumbles) between Laplolly and Phesants, to tumble i’th’ straw and lye in a down-bed, betwixt wine and water, a cottage and a palace.

He hates nature (as Pliny characterizeth him) that she hath made him lower then a God, and is angry with the Gods that any man goes before him, and although he hath received much, yet (as Seneca followes it) he thinks it an injury that he hath no more, and is so far from giving thanks for his Tribuneship, that he complains he is not Pretor, neither doth that please him, except he may be Consul.

Why is he not a Prince, why not a Monarch, why not an Emperour? Why should one man have so much more then his fellowes, one have all, another nothing? Why should one man be a slave or drudge to another? One surfeit, another starve, one live at ease, another labour, without any hope of better fortune? Thus they grumble, mutter, and repine: Not considering that inconstancy of humane affairs, judicially conferring one condition with another, or well weighing their own present estate.

What they are now, thou mayst shortly be; and what thou art they shall likely be. Expect a little, confer future and times past with the present, see the event, and comfort thy self with it. It is as well to be discerned in Common-wealths, Cities, Families, as in private mens estates.

Italy was once Lord of the world, Rome the Queen of Cities, vaunted her self of two myriades of inhabitants; now that all-commanding country is possessed by petty Princes, Rome a small Village in respect. Greece of old the seat of civility, mother of sciences and humanity, now forlorn, the nurse of barbarism, a den of theeves. Germany then, saith Tacitus, was incult and horrid, now full of magnificent Cities: Athens, Corinth, Carthage, how flourishing Cities, now buried in their own ruines! Corvorum, ferarum, aprorum & bestiarum lustra, like so many wildernesses, a receptacle of wild beasts.

Venice a poor fisher-town; Paris, London, small Cottages in Cæsars time, now most noble Emporiums. Valois, Plantagenet and Scaliger how fortunate families, how likely to continue? now quite extinguished and rooted out.

He stands aloft to day, full of favour, wealth, honour, and prosperity, in the top of fortunes wheele: to morrow in prison, worse then nothing, his son’s a begger. Thou art a poor servile drudge, Fæx populi, a very slave, thy son may come to be a Prince, with Maximinus, Agathocles, &c. a Senator, a Generall of an Army;

Thou standest bare to him now, workest for him, drudgest for him and his, takest an almes of him: stay but a little, and his next heire peradventure shall consume all with riot, be degraded, thou exalted, and he shall beg of thee. Thou shalt be his most honorable Patron, he thy devout servant, his posterity shall run, ride, and do as much for thine, as it was with Frisgobald and Cromwel, it may be for thee.

Citizens devour countrey Gentlemen, and settle in their seats; after two or three descents, they consume all in riot, it returnes to the City again.

—— Novus incola venit, Nam propriæ telluris herum natura neque illum, Nec me, nec quenquam statuit; nos expulit ille, Illum aut nequities, aut vafri inscitia juris.

A Lawyer buyes out his poor Client, after a while his Clients posterity buy out him and his; so things go round, ebbe and flow.

Nunc ager Umbreni, sub nomine nuper Ofelli Dictus erat, nulli proprius, sed cedit in usum Nunc mihi, nunc aliis; ——

as he said then, ager cujus, quot habes Dominos? So say I of land, houses, moveables and mony, mine to day, his anon, whose to morrow? In fine (as Machiavel observes) vertue and prosperity beget rest; rest idlenes; idlenes riot; riot destruction: From which we come again to good lawes; good lawes engender vertuous actions; vertue, glorie, and prosperity; and ’tis no dishonour then (as Guicciardine adds) for a flourishing man, City, or State to come to ruine, nor infelicitie to be subject to the law of nature.

Ergo terrena calcanda, sitienda cœlestia, therefore (I say) scorn this transitory state, look up to Heaven, think not what others are, but what thou art: Quâ parte locatus es in re: and what thou shalt be, what thou mayst be.

Do (I say) as Christ himself did, when he lived here on earth, imitate him as much as in thee lies. How many great Cæsars, mighty Monarches, Tetrarches, Dynastes, Princes lived in his dayes, in what plentie, what delicacie, how bravely attended, what a deal of gold and silver, what treasure, how many sumptuous palaces had they, what Provinces, & Cities, ample territories, fields, rivers, fountains, parkes, forrests, lawnes, woods, celles, &c?

Yet Christ had none of all this, he would have none of this, he voluntarily rejected all this, he could not be ignorant, he could not erre in his choice, he contemned all this, he chose that which was safer, better and more certaine, and lesse to be repented, a mean estate, even povertie it self; and why dost thou then doubt to follow him, to imitate him and his Apostles, to imitate all good men? So doe thou tread in his divine steps, and thou shalt not erre eternally, as too many worldlings doe, that runne on in their owne dissolute courses, to their confusion and ruine, thou shalt not doe amisse.

Whatsoever thy fortune is, be contented with it, trust in him, relie on him, refer thy selfe wholly to him. For know this, in conclusion, Non est volentis nec currentis, sed miserentis Dei, ’tis not as men, but as God will. The Lord maketh poor and maketh rich, bringeth low, and exalteth. (1 Sam. 2. ver. 7.8.) he lifteth the poor from the dust, and raiseth the begger from the dunghill, to set them amongst Princes, and make them inherit the seat of glory; ’tis all as he pleaseth, how, and when, and whom; he that appoints the end (though to us unknown) appoints the meanes likewise subordinate to the end.

Yea but their present estate crucifies and torments most mortall men, they have no such forecast, to see what may be, what shall likely be, but what is, though not wherefore, or from whom, hoc anget, their present misfortunes grinde their soules, and an envious eye which they cast upon other mens prosperities, Vicinumque pecus grandius uber habet, how rich, how fortunate, how happy is he?

But in the mean time he doth not consider the others miseries, his infirmities of body and minde, that accompany his estate, but still reflects upon his own false conceived woes and wants, whereas if the matter were duely examined, he is in no distresse at all, he hath no cause to complain.

—— tolle querelas, Pauper enim non est cui rerum suppetit usus.

he is not poore, he is not in need. Nature is content with bread and water; and he that can rest satisfied with that, may contend with Jupiter himselfe for happinesse. In that golden age, somnos dedit umbra salubres, potum quoque lubricus amnis, the trees gave wholsome shade to sleep under, and the clear rivers drink.