TO The most Excellently accomplish'd, my best of Friends, Mr. THOMAS HENSHAW.

SIR,

IT was the Quaere of Solomon, and it argued the Supremacie of [Marginal note: Eccle. 2. 3.] his wisedom, What was best for Man to doe all the dayes of his Vanitie under the Sun? If I wish my selfe so Wise, as to know this great Affaire

of Life, it is because you are fit to manage it. I will not advise you to pleasures, to build Houses, and plant Vine-yards: to inlarge your private Possessions, or to multiplie your Gold and Silver. These are old Errors, like Vitriol to the stone; So many false Receipts which Solomon hath tried before you, And behold all was vanitie, and [Marginal note: Cap. 2. ver. 11.] vexation of Spirit. I have sometimes seen Actions as various, as they were great, and my own sullen Fate hath forc'd me to severall Courses of life, but I finde not one hitherto, which ends not in Surfets, or Satietie. Let us fansie a man as fortunate as this world can make

him; What doth hee doe but move from Bed to Boord, and provide for the Circumstances of those two Scenes? To day hee eates and drinkes, then sleeps, that hee may doe the like to morrow. A great Happinesse! to live by cloying Repetitions, and such as have more of Necessity, than of a free pleasure. This is Idem per Idem, and what is held for Absurditie in Reason, can not by the same reason be the true perfection of Life. I deny not but Temporall blessings conduce to a Temporall Life, and by Consequence are pleasing to the Body, but if we consider the Soule, shee is all this while upon the

wing, like that Dove sent out of the Ark, seeking a place to rest: shee is busied in a restless Inquisition, and though her Thoughts, for want of true Knowledge, differ not from Desires, yet they sufficiently prove she hath not found her Satisfaction. Shew me then but a practice wherein my Soule shall rest without any further Disquisition, for this is it, which Solomon calls Vexation of Spirit, and you shew mee, What is Best for Man to doe under the Sun. Surely, Sir, this is not the Philosophers stone, neither will I undertake to define it, but give me leave to speak to you in the Language of Zoroaster:

Quaere Tu Animae Canalem.

I have a better Confidence in your Opinion of mee, than to tell you, I love you: and for my present Boldness, you must thank your self, you taught me this Familiaritie. I here trouble you with a short Discourse, the Brokage and weake Remembrances of my former, and more intire studies; It is no labour'd Peece, and indeed no fit Present, but I beg your Acceptance as of a Caveat, that you may see, what unprofitable Affections you have Purchased. I propose it not for your Instruction, Nature hath already admitted you to her Schoole, and I would make you my Judge, not

my Pupill. If therefore amongst your serious and more deare Retirements, you can allow this Trifle but some few Minutes, and think them not lost, you will Perfect my Ambition. You will place mee Sir, at my full Height, and though it were like that of Statius, amongst Gods and Stars, I shall quickly find the Earth again, and with the least Opportunitie present my self

Sir, Your most humble Servant, E. P.