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<DATE>2012-08-16</DATE>
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<NAME>Olivia Bottum</NAME>
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<DIV1 TYPE="title page">
<PB REF="1">
<PB REF="1" MS="y">
<P>DESIDERIVS.</P>
<P>A MOST GOD|LY, RELIGIOVS, AND delectable Dialogue, teaching the true and ready way, by which we may attayne to the perfect Loue of God.</P>
<P>FIRST WRITTEN IN SPA|ni&s;h, and &s;ince tran&s;lated by diuers per|&s;ons into the Italian, French, Dutch, and Latin tongue, and now la&s;tly into the Engli&s;h.</P>
<P>Imprinted at ROANE, by the permi&s;|&s;ion of Superiours, Anno 1604.</P>
</DIV1>
</FRONT>
<BODY>
<DIV1 N="1" TYPE="part">
<PB REF="2">
<PB N="1" REF="2">
<HEAD>A MOST GODLY, RELIGIOVS, <HI>and delectable Dialogue, teaching the true</HI> and ready way, by which we may at|tayne to the perfect loue of God.</HEAD>
<DIV2 N="1" TYPE="chapter">
<HEAD><HI>CHAPTER 1.</HI> De&s;ire goeth on Pilgrimage.</HEAD>
<P>_THere liued &s;ometimes in a va&s;t and &s;olitarie de&s;ert, a holy &amp; Religious Father, who&s;e chie|fe&s;t care, and daylie exerci&s;e, was with fa&s;ting, watching, and praying, continually to &s;erue God. This holy Father was moued on a time with a zealous and hartie de&s;ire, to finde out the true &amp; ready way, (if po&s;sibly he cold,) to true wi&s;dome, and the loue of God. There|fore he re&s;olued with him&s;elfe to trauaile ouer the whole world, if happely he could finde a Ma&s;ter able to in&s;truct and direct him herein. With this re&s;olution he departed from his Cell,
<PB N="4" REF="3">and then fir&s;t beganne his determined journey. Now after this holy Father, (whome we will call, <HI>De&s;iderius</HI> or <HI>De&s;ire</HI>) had mea&s;ured the de|&s;ert, with a long and weari&s;ome trauaile he fir&s;t encountred a reuerende old &s;heepheard: who fedde his flocke, in a plea&s;ant greene meddow, beautified with variety of &s;weet &s;melling flow|ers: with the &s;ight of whome, being greatly comforted: hauing long trauailed, &amp; yet mette with no man, he &s;aluted him in manner follow|ing. My louing Brother, now thanked be God who hath directed me to meete you here. To whome the &s;heepheard returned an&s;were: I likewi&s;e am gladde of this our meeting: tel me, what &s;eeke you in this &s;olitary de&s;ert? I &s;eeke quoth <HI>De&s;ire</HI> a certayne Knight, who as I vn|der&s;tand is trauailed this way.</P>
</DIV2>
<DIV2 N="2" TYPE="chapter">
<HEAD><HI>CHAPTER. 2.</HI> He in&s;tructeth Prelates and &s;piri|tuall Pa&s;tors.</HEAD>
<P>THis Pilgrim, &amp; this Pa&s;tor, thus mette to|gither, <HI>De&s;ire</HI> attentiuely noted with ad|miration, the great care, and diligence, which this good &s;heepheard v&s;ed, towards the flocke committed to his charge, fir&s;t, he had in his hand a rodde, or wande, on his right &s;ide, there hong a &s;crippe, or bagge: on his feete, he weare wodden pattens, his garment was a long coate; on his lefte &s;ide, at his girdle, there hong a little
<PB N="5" REF="3">horne, and on his right &s;ide, an other &s;ome|what greater, two great dogges followed him on each &s;ide, and fa&s;t by, was his homely cot|tage, fen&s;ed &amp; compa&s;&s;ed about with bu&s;hes, and thornes. The &s;heepheard, per&s;eauing how attentiuely <HI>De&s;ire</HI> beheld and noted him, asked of him, the cau&s;e thereof: and if he neuer had &s;eene a &s;heepheard before? DE. Truely Bro|ther, I haue oft &s;eene manie, but neuer one &s;o well prouided as your &s;elfe, wherefore pardon me: and if it be nto trouble&s;ome to you, an|&s;weare me to that I &s;hall aske of you. SH. You &s;hall not be offen&s;iue to me, if your de|mandes, be but &s;uch as I may an&s;were. DE. Wherefore doe you carrie this &s;taffe in your hande? SH. I meruaile not a little, why you aske me that, for con&s;idering, your &s;elfe are a Sheepheard, as I am, howe can you be igno|rant of the v&s;e of it? I v&s;e this &s;taffe, both for my ayde, and &s;tay, that going vp and downe, with my &s;heepe, I &s;tumble not and fall: and al&s;o, therewith I order and rule my flocke, directing them therewith, to keepe their right way, and prohibiting them, to wan|der and &s;tray, but to keepe togither, not allowing each one to goe &s;euerall wayes: for if anie one chance to &s;euer from my flocke, or to follow after anie other, then my &s;elfe, with this &s;taffe, enforce him &amp; driue him, vntill
<PB N="6" REF="4">he vnite him&s;elfe againe to his fellowes. DE. What doe you carry in this Scrippe that you weare? SH. Foure thinges: A tinder boxe to &s;trike fire, wherewith in colde winter I may warme my &s;elfe, and dre&s;&s;e &s;uch meate as &s;er|ueth my fellowes, and me, al&s;o bread, onyons, a box of oyntment, and &s;alt, whereof e&s;pecial|ly, I oft giue my &s;hepe. DE. Why doe you weare wodden pattens on your feete. SH. To keepe me warme in Winter, when it is Fro&s;t, and Snow: for if I &s;hould weare more co&s;tly, or curious, they would &s;oone be worne out with much going about. DE. What &s;ignifieth this long garment that you weare? SH. This is my habit, without which, no man would know me to be a &s;heephearde. DE. Whereof is this garment made? SH. of &s;heepe skinnes. DE. Might it not bee made of Wolues or other bea&s;ts skinnes? No, for my &s;heepe would ea&s;i|lie finde that by the &s;mell, and &s;o woulde pre|&s;ently fly away from me: but &s;eeing me cladde in their owne skinnes; they loue and followe me continually. DE. What haue you in the horne that hangeth on your left &s;ide? SH. An oyntment, wherewith I dre&s;&s;e my &s;heepe that be infected with the &s;cabbe. DE. What in the bigger, that hangeth on the right &s;ide? SH. A marking &s;tone, whereby I know them from other mens &s;heepe. DE. For what v&s;e
<PB N="7" REF="4">doe you keepe the&s;e dogges? SH. They barke in the night, and keep away the wolues, where|by, both my &s;heepe be in more &s;afety, and I my &s;elfe take my re&s;t more quietly. DE. Why are you &s;o carefull ouer this your charge? SH. Becau&s;e I haue a kinde and bountifull Ma&s;ter, who hath promi&s;ed me a great rewarde, al|though I doe it not in regarde of rewarde, but rather for the loue I beare to him.</P>
</DIV2>
<DIV2 N="3" TYPE="chapter">
<HEAD><HI>CHAPTER. 3.</HI> Of the &s;ame Argument.</HEAD>
<P>DESIRE now grewe into great admira|tion with him &s;elfe, and was greatly plea|&s;ed, hearing that this &s;heepheard did vndertake this charge for loue, and &s;aid to him. My bro|ther, con&s;idering you co~uer&s;e for the mo&s;t part in the&s;e plea&s;ant fieldes, can you certifie me of a certayne Knight which wandereth &s;olitarily, vp and downe alone? by rea&s;on that being expelled his po&s;&s;e&s;&s;ion by his owne &s;ubjectes, he is con&s;trayned to &s;eeke &s;ome place of abode where he may re&s;t and &s;ettle him &s;elfe. SH. What is the name of this Knight, you enquire after? DE. He is called, the <HI>Loue of God.</HI> SH. I knowe right well the place of his abode. And if thou had&s;t experience to keepe my flocke as I haue, and werte euery way &s;ufficient for &s;uch a charge, I would my &s;elfe bring thee to him, that thou mighte&s;t not as heretofore wan|der
<PB N="8" REF="5">vp and downe to &s;eeke him, hee loueth &s;heepheardes, and willingly conuer&s;eth with them. And although he be a noble, and renow|med knight, yet is he notwith&s;ta~ding the &s;oune of a &s;heepheard. But perceauing thee, to be a man of a weake, and tender con&s;titution, and vnfitte of thy &s;elfe, to vndertake the charge of my flocke, not able to follow them, though this &s;olitarie de&s;ert, I thinke it meete, thou &s;houlde&s;t a&s;&s;ay an other journey. DE. What other journey doe you adui&s;e me to take? SH. Fir&s;t mu&s;t you pa&s;&s;e through this &s;olitarie de|&s;ert, and not farre hence, &s;hall you finde a faire and &s;tately Mona&s;terie: this Mona&s;terie is in|habited only with Virgins, of whome you &s;hal learne the abode of this Knight: for &s;uch is the curte&s;ie, affabilitie, and hone&s;t carriage of him, that willingly, he conuer&s;eth with all, that &s;eeke after him. This de&s;cour&s;e of the &s;heepheard, plea&s;ed <HI>Desire</HI> not a little, and the rather, being put in hope, by him to finde out the <HI>Loue of God.</HI> Who &s;aid to him, teach me, I pray you the ready way that I mu&s;t take: lea&s;t that per|haps through ignorance, I happe to goe awry. SH. I may not my &s;elfe for&s;ake my flocke, yet will I appoint thee a conuenient companion in this thy journey, who accompaning thee, that by the a&s;&s;i&s;tance of God, thou &s;halt not ea&s;ely goe out of thy way: take here with thee this my
<PB N="9" REF="5">dogge. DE. What is his name? SH. <HI>Good will.</HI> DE. Farewell my Brother. SH. And you al&s;o, to whome I wi&s;h a pro&s;perous jour|ney.</P>
</DIV2>
<DIV2 N="4" TYPE="chapter">
<HEAD><HI>CHAPTER. 4.</HI> Of the hou&s;e of Humilitie.</HEAD>
<P>HEre <HI>De&s;ire</HI> leauing the Sheepheard, vn|dertoke his journey, acco~panied with his dogge; running by his &s;ide: which was no little comfort to him on the way, and now hauing trauailed, many dayes, and nights, he entred on a Sonday, into a mo&s;t plea&s;ant greene medow, &s;eated in a dry, and rocky &s;oyle, whereat, <HI>De|&s;ire</HI> meruailed not a little, to &s;ee &s;o plea&s;ant, and &s;o greene a meddow, lying in &s;o &s;tony, and &s;o barraine a place, ouergrowne aboute, with bu&s;hes, and thornes. And entring farther in, he found there builte, a &s;tately, faire Mona&s;te|rie: the &s;ight whereof, plea&s;ed him much. But comming neare, he found the gates &s;hut, and a certayne Virgin &s;tanding without, mode&s;t as to him &s;eemed, both in her attire, and behauiour: who at the &s;ight of <HI>De&s;ires</HI> dogge, beganne to be afrayd. Whome <HI>De&s;ire</HI> comforted, and hidde not to feare, a&s;&s;uring her, his dogge would not hurte her. And meruailing, to &s;ee her &s;tand thus alone without, he deman|ded of her, why &s;hee &s;toode there, who an|&s;weared him, that &s;hee expected the opening
<PB N="10" REF="6">of the gates to goe in. Then demanding farther her name of her, &s;he an&s;wered, &s;aying; I am cal-called <HI>Vaine-glorie.</HI> Now <HI>De&s;ire</HI> hauing long expected the opening of the gates, and per|ceuing his attendance to be all in vaine, be|ganne to call, and knocke at the gate with a hammer, hanging thereat, called <HI>Longanimitie,</HI> &amp; pre&s;ently came forth can auncient reuerende man, who opened the gate. This man was called the <HI>Feare of God,</HI> who was both porter and keeper of all this Mona&s;terie, whome <HI>De&s;ire</HI> &s;eing, and finding a graue and wi&s;e reue|rende man, was greatly cheared in beholding him, and after due reuerence done to him, &s;pake to him in manner following. Good Sir (quoth he,) my comming hither, is to &s;eeke out a Knight, called the <HI>Loue of God.</HI> Who as I am tolde, is trauailed through this de&s;ert, and hath his abode now in this Mona&s;tery, wherefore I humbly de&s;ire of you, to know if he be here within or no. At this demand of his, the por|ter rejoyced, for he loued the <HI>Loue of God</HI> euen as his owne Brother, &amp; asked of him, why h &s;ought ofter this Knight. DE. I &s;eeke him not only becau&s;e I am greatly delighted with him, but al&s;o becau&s;e it is very behouefull for me to finde him; FEARE OF GOD. What? haue you any thing &s;o &s;ecret that you dare not re|veale it? DE. Truely Sir. only I de&s;ire his
<PB N="11" REF="6">company and conuer&s;ation, and wi&s;h I were his &s;eruant to attend on him, coueting nothing more than &s;uch a Ma&s;ter and in&s;tructer, for in all this country, I cannot finde a Ma&s;ter an|&s;werable to my minde, although many haue bin willing to entertayne me. But I haue learned from many, that the <HI>Loue of god,</HI> is a mo&s;t noble gentle, and bountifull Ma&s;ter: who in that he is rich, often be&s;toweth great preferments on his &s;erua~ts. FEARE OF GOD. True it is, he pa&s;&s;ed, his way acco~panied but with fewe, who at this pre&s;ent is not within, but haue patience a while, &amp; I will call a Virgin to you, who is able to direct you, where you &s;hall finde him out.</P>
</DIV2>
<DIV2 N="5" TYPE="chapter">
<HEAD><HI>CHAPTER. 5.</HI> How Vaine-glory watcheth at the gate.</HEAD>
<P>MEane time, now <HI>De&s;ire</HI> joyfully expected the comming of the Porter, and Virgin he &s;pake of, &amp; not weighting long, there came to him a mode&s;t and &s;eemely Virgin, who &s;alu|ting him curteou&s;ly, was in like manner re&s;alu|ted againe, of whome <HI>De&s;ire</HI> craued her name, who an&s;wered, my name is called <HI>Nihili-pen&s;io,</HI> becau&s;e I entermedle not in &s;uperfluous &amp; vn|nece&s;&s;ary thinges, and demanding farther the name of the Mona&s;terie, &s;hee told him it was the hou&s;e of <HI>Humilitie,</HI> becau&s;e within, there dwelt many virgins, who liued vnder the obe|dience and rule of humilitie, he againe asked:
<PB N="12" REF="7">what maide is that which &s;tandeth without the gate, her name quoth &s;he, is called <HI>Vaine-glory:</HI> who &s;itteth continually at this gate vntill it be opened, and then, if the Porter be negligent, &amp; looke not &s;trictly to his office, (but leaue open the gates) &s;hee pre&s;ently entreth. Why do you not admit her in &s;aid <HI>De&s;ire,</HI> con&s;idering both in &s;peech, habit, &amp; ge&s;ture, &s;he &s;eemeth mode&s;t, vertuous, &amp; hone&s;t. You know not (quoth the <HI>Virgin</HI>) her conditions, I perceaue: For I a&s;&s;ure you, &s;hee is a mo&s;t dangerous bea&s;te, for how much the more mode&s;t, &amp; religious &s;he &s;emeth by her externall carriage, &s;o much I holde her, to be more dangerous. What, &s;aith <HI>De&s;ire,</HI> doth &s;he at any time hurt you? yea truly &s;aid the <HI>Vir+gin,</HI> &s;o farre as lieth in her power: her father is a wicked man, called <HI>Selfe Loue,</HI> her mother as ill, called <HI>Selfe E&s;timation,</HI> neither haue we three greater enemies in all the world, and farther, they are enemies to the <HI>Loue of God,</HI> a Knight who is Ma&s;ter of this Mona&s;tery, in which we liue. And that you may farther know, what hurt <HI>Vaine-glory</HI> doeth vs: I &s;ay, &s;o &s;oone as &s;hee entereth in, &s;hee is &s;o gluttenous, and ra|uening, that fir&s;t &s;hee goeth into our Orchards, &amp; there deuoureth, and eateth vp al our fruite, which is both faire &amp; good, which is the fruite, wee haue to liue with, neyther haue we more than one tree of it, which carrieth &s;o litle, that
<PB N="13" REF="7">hardly are we &s;u&s;teyned therewith, which be|ing taken away from vs, by <HI>Vaine-glory,</HI> we remaine &s;o poore, that nothing is left vs. And yet wor&s;e than this, after &s;hee is once come in, &s;hee is &s;o crafty, and deceitfull, that we can|not expell her, labour we neuer &s;o much, vn|till wee call the a&s;&s;i&s;tance of our Mother, at who&s;e only &s;ight, &s;hee runneth away: where|fore wee thinke it good, not to admitte her at all, which to preuent, wee purpo&s;ely keepe this Porter continually at our gate, who is a &s;euere and &s;terne man, and &s;till &s;hutteth the gate, that &s;hee cannot enter: whome wee in|treate to be circum&s;pect, that when hee ad|mitteth any, hee through negligence, leaue not open the gate. <HI>De&s;ire</HI> &s;toode ama&s;ed, at the di&s;cour&s;e of this <HI>Virgin,</HI> and replied, con|&s;idering &s;hee is &s;o dangerous an enemy to you, you cannot be too carefull, to keepe her out of your hou&s;e.</P>
</DIV2>
<DIV2 N="6" TYPE="chapter">
<HEAD><HI>CHAPTER. 6.</HI> By what meanes, we may at|tame to Humilitie.</HEAD>
<P><HI>DE&s;ire</HI> continuing his &s;peech with this Virgin, asked her who brought her into that goodly, and Religious Mona&s;tery, a|dorned, and &s;hining, with &s;o rare vertues, Two Virgins (quoth &s;hee) guided me hither,
<PB N="14" REF="8">whereof the one is called <HI>Contempt of the world,</HI> a Virgin endued with &s;inguler vertues the o|ther called <HI>Contempt of her &s;elfe,</HI> exceeding the fir&s;t by many degrees. The&s;e two Virgins lea|ding me in, entreated our Mother and Mi&s;tris to receaue me, which notwith&s;tanding &s;he had not done, but for the loue of a certayne Knight, which mette vs in our journey, &amp; came in here with vs, who be&s;towed on me this habite I weare, and admitted me into the &s;ociety of his Virgins, and had it not beene graunted vs by &s;peciall grace, that, that Knight had entred in hither with vs, I had neuer beene receaued, but had lo&s;t my labour. DE. What is the name of the Knight you &s;peake of? VIRGIN: The <HI>Loue of God.</HI> It plea&s;ed <HI>de&s;ire</HI> much, that the <HI>Loue of God</HI> was of that account, that &s;o many, and &s;o great thinges where done: only for his &s;ake, and now he beganne more earne&s;tly to De&s;ire his pre&s;ence, and &s;ayde. DE. Deare &s;i&s;ter, tell me what were the parents of the&s;e two Vir|gins, which brought you hither, for it auaileth much to the hone&s;ty and reputation of a man, to be borne of hone&s;t and vertuous parents, for commonly the tree taketh the vertue from the roote. VIR. I knowe right well their parents names, their father is one of chiefe&s;t authoritie in our Princes palace, who is called, <HI>To knowe,</HI> al&s;o I knowe as well their grand-father, who&s;e
<PB N="15" REF="8">name is <HI>To Con&s;ider,</HI> who is a wi&s;e and di&s;creete man, and one that di&s;chargeth his office dulie: he married a wife called <HI>Wi&s;edome.</HI> DE. Had the Knight when hee mette you no man in his company? VIR. Yes, he had a boy with him whom he loueth dearely, this boy is, called the <HI>Loue of our neighbour.</HI> DE. Can you direct me whither this Knight is gone? VIR. I coulde direct you, but let vs goe in, and I will bring you to tho&s;e that can in&s;truct you certainly: but tell me I pray you, why doe you carry this great dogge with you? DE. He was giuen vnto me by an other, for I my &s;elfe had fir&s;t but a little whelpe, which I bredde vp in my cha|ber, vntill I mette a certayne &s;heepheard that be|&s;towed, his bigger dogge on me, to accompany me through this va&s;t and &s;olitarie de&s;ert, in which (as I was told) liued many hurtful &s;erpe~ts, &amp; dangerous wild bea&s;ts, from which I might bee defended by the a&s;&s;i&s;tance of this dogge. VIRG. What is the dogges name? DE. <HI>Good will.</HI> VIRG. The dogge &s;urely is a ve|ry good dogge, if you knowe howe to keepe him: and a&s;&s;ure your &s;elfe, &s;o long as you haue him, he will &s;uffer no ill to befall vnto you, nei|ther neede you to feare, to &s;tray out of your way. DE. But tell me I pray you? of whome may I enquire, where I may finde this Knight that I &s;eeke after? VIR. Truely Brother, he
<PB N="16" REF="9">dwelleth farre hence, &amp; thou ha&s;t a long jour|ney to goe through this de&s;ert, before thou can&s;t come to the place of his abode: thou mu&s;t trauaile at the lea&s;te, &s;eauen dayes journey, for there be &s;eauen Mona&s;teries, &s;eated in this de|&s;ert, neither is there any other way to pa&s;&s;e, but this: yet for the loue of the <HI>Loue of God,</HI> con|&s;idering, I &s;ee thee &s;o de&s;irous of him, I will di|rect thee a &s;hort way to goe, by the which thou &s;halt &s;ooner come where he is, wherefore, it is requi&s;ite that thou follow my adui&s;e. <HI>De&s;ire</HI> hearing what &s;ee &s;aid, rejoyced greatly, but e&s;pecially, becau&s;e &s;hee &s;aide &s;hee would doe it for the <HI>Loue of God,</HI> and &s;aide to her. DE. I will doe, what ere you bid me, &s;o I may finde the <HI>Loue of God.</HI> VIR. Here, within this de|&s;ert, there are eight Mona&s;teries, whereof, this which is the hou&s;e of <HI>Humility,</HI> is the fir&s;t, the &s;econd, is of <HI>Iu&s;tice,</HI> the third, is of <HI>Wi&s;edome,</HI> the fourth, of <HI>Fortitude,</HI> the fift, of <HI>Tempera~ce,</HI> the &s;ixt, of <HI>Faith,</HI> the &s;eauenth, of <HI>Hope,</HI> the eight, of <HI>Charity:</HI> in this la&s;t of <HI>Charity,</HI> remaineth the <HI>Loue of God,</HI> and there di&s;chargeth the office of a porter. This whole journey, thou mu&s;t vn|dertake, if thou wilt be &s;ure to go the right way, but as I &s;aide, I will teach thee a &s;horterway, by which, thou maye&s;t &s;ooner come to him: yet notwith&s;tanding, it is of nece&s;&s;ity, that thou abide a time here in this Mona&s;tery, that thou
<PB N="17" REF="9">mai&s;t learne, marke, and remember, all our or|ders, and be acquainted with our Mi&s;tris, &amp; all herd daughters, and learned, and remember their names behuiours, &amp; lius. Moreouer, thou mu&s;t diligently note, al things in this Mona&s;te|ry, &amp; carry to the <HI>Loue of God,</HI> Certaine rules of ours, for the great loue he beareth to this our Mona&s;tery before others, then will he without delay, mo&s;t willingly receaue thee, the rather, if thou bring letters of commendation from our Mi&s;tris. DE. What is the rea&s;on, the <HI>Loue of God</HI> &s;hould &s;o preferre you; con&s;idering (as me &s;eemeth) you are the poore&s;t, meane&s;t, &amp; few|e&s;t in number. VIR. This was the fir&s;t Mo|na&s;tery that was founded in this De&s;ert, and all the other are depe~ding on this, be&s;ides our chie fe&s;t founder, &amp; gouernor, the builder, &amp; work|man of this Mona&s;terie, maketh his abode and dwelling among&s;t vs: And although he walke vp &amp; downe this De&s;ert, to vi&s;it &amp; keep in or|der the other Mona&s;teries, yet will he not per|mit him&s;elf to be otherwaies called, then a child of this Mona&s;tery, &amp; fir&s;t of al, we gaue him an habit. <HI>de&s;ire</HI> was &s;o much delighted with the di&s;+cour&s;e of this virgin; that he felte his hart infla|med with loue, for he noted her words well, &amp; &s;aide, he de&s;ired nothing more, than to &s;pend long time in this place, &amp; with great diligence to note &amp; marke their orders. Then the virgin
<PB N="18" REF="10">taking him by the hand &s;aid, let vs now goe in.</P>
</DIV2>
<DIV2 N="7" TYPE="chapter">
<HEAD><HI>CHAPER. 7.</HI> The purpo&s;e, or intent of Humility, and her talke with De&s;ire.</HEAD>
<P>THe building of this hou&s;e much plea&s;ed <HI>De&s;ire,</HI> and he admired the beauty thereof, con&s;idering it was playne, without any cou~ter|fet: for neither was it builte high, not yet &s;et forth, with any imagery or painting; but lowe, &amp; conuenient, not founded vpon &s;and, but on a firme rocke. After <HI>De&s;ire</HI> had a time atte~ded his deuotions in the Oratory, the Virgin brought him to the chamber of their Mi&s;tris, or mother, who receaued him curteou&s;ly, &s;eeing him ver|tuous, &amp; deuoted to Gods &s;eruice, and making him &s;it, &s;aid vnto him, what cau&s;e my Son hath brought thee, among&s;t vs, con&s;idering we are &s;o poore, &s;o meane, &amp; &s;uch abjects? DE. Lady mother, I &s;eeke after a knight, called the <HI>Loue of God.</HI> And as I am in&s;tructed, I canot finde him, except I make my abode here &s;ome time with you: wherfore (if it be not trouble&s;ome to you,) I de&s;ire to liue vnder your obedience, &amp; gouer|ment. HVM. Your de&s;ire and purpo&s;e plea|&s;eth me well, but fir&s;t con&s;ider, and weigh with your &s;elfe, what it is that you goe about to vn|dertake, lea&s;t hauing once entred, you repent you of your purpo&s;e. DE. I be&s;eech God a&s;&s;i&s;t me with his grace &amp; helpe, that I may per&s;euer
<PB N="19" REF="10">in vertue, and all goodnes. HVM. I wi&s;h the &s;ame, &amp; pray to God, to accompli&s;h this good worke, which he hath begonne in thee. But far|ther, it is requi&s;ite, that thou thy &s;elfe endeuour al that in thee lyeth, that God may pro&s;per this thy good purpo&s;e. DE. What think you need|ful for me to do? HVM. My Sonne, I will tell thee. If thy de&s;ire be to remayne here among&s;t vs, and not to be expelled from hence by my Virgins; thou mu&s;t take my yonge&s;t daughter, which brought thee in hither, who is called <HI>Nihili-pen&s;io,</HI> that is, contempt of al vnnece&s;&s;ary cares: &amp; her thou mu&s;t obey as thy gouerne&s;&s;e or Mi&s;tris, to whome, purpo&s;ly we haue com|mitted the charge, to entertayne &s;trangers, and be the directix of nouices, &amp; who&s;oeuer refu&s;e to be obedie~t to her, neuer per&s;euer in that they vndertake. DE. Mo&s;t willingly I admit her, and receaue her my gouerne&s;&s;e; and de&s;ire to know of you Lady mother, your name, &s;tocke, conditions, and degree, &amp; how, you come to be mother ouer the&s;e <HI>Virgins?</HI> For as it is tould me, I mu&s;t knowe, and learne, the properties, con|ditions, &amp; &s;tate, of all the&s;e Virgins vnder your gouerment to the intent, that the better I know them, the more I may loue them; &amp; that when I &s;hall depart from he~ce, I may the better be able to an&s;were, &amp; direct tho&s;e that &s;hal a&s;ke, or &s;eek to learne any thing of me. HVM. My name is
<PB N="20" REF="11"><HI>Humility,</HI> my Father, <HI>Contempte of him &s;elfe, Knowledge of him&s;elfe,</HI> my Grandfather, and his wife is called <HI>Knowledge of God.</HI> My fore na|med Grandfather, commeth from a citty, cal|led <HI>To marke, and con&s;ider</HI> what I am, what I haue beene, what I &s;hall be. My Grandmother from a towne, called <HI>Con&s;ideration of the Loue of God.</HI> There are but two wayes, to goe to the country of my Grandfather, &amp; only two gates, whereby to enter in, the fir&s;t is, <HI>Man him&s;elfe,</HI> the other <HI>All creatures,</HI> and men &s;ay, no man can enter into either of the&s;e gates, but by fly|ing: and that our Lord God him&s;elfe builded this citty, with his owne hands, con&s;idering, that none but he, could fini&s;he &s;o commodious, &s;o beautifull, &amp; &s;o firme a building. DE. Would our Lord God, who&s;e maje&s;ty, and excellency is &s;o great, put him&s;elfe to the building, of &s;uch &s;tony, and clay workes? HVM. Yea truely, for he is an excellent workeman, and both a &s;tilfull ma&s;on, and carpenter, and taketh great delight in making earthen works, &amp; buildings. DE. What is the cau&s;e that he doth this, con|&s;idering that he hath need of nothing? HVM. Nothing, but his owne goodnes, doth con|&s;trayne, or moue him to do this: whence it pro|ceedeth, that he neuer cea&s;eth to benefit others, neither &s;eeketh he, or &s;tudieth with all thinges that he maketh, and goeth about, anie other
<PB N="21" REF="11">thing, but the benefit, felicity, and &s;aluation, of all men, the honor and pray&s;e, to him&s;elfe alone re&s;erued. And for this cau&s;e, doth he make of &s;o ba&s;e, and vile a matter, &s;o goodly, and beau|full workes, as he doeth, that the worthines of the worke, being compared with the ba&s;enes of the matter, all men might admire him, pray&s;e him, and loue him. DE. I meruail that &s;o excelle~t a Lord as he is, would &s;eeke for pray&s;e, con&s;idering thereby he may be touched with vaine-glory? HVM. There is nothing le&s;&s;e to be feared, than that in him, he being &s;o per|fit, that no greater perfection can be added to him, and all honor and glory, that can be yeel|ded to him, cannot be &s;aid vaine, being only proper to him; And how great honor &s;oeuer we can giue to him, yet in regarde of that which be&s;eemeth him, &amp; is due to him; we can neuer honor him, an&s;werable to his dignitie. And for that cau&s;e will he be exalted, and pray&s;ed, not that he de&s;ireth glory, but becau&s;e he is mo&s;t iu&s;t, and will, that euery one, haue that which is due to him: then &s;eing all pray&s;e, honor, and glory is due to him alone, being only good, his will is, that all pray&s;e, honor and glory, be yeel|ded only to him. But if anie other &s;hall &s;eeke or de&s;ire after glory, they may iu&s;tly be called vaineglorious, becau&s;e they take it from him, to whome it only appertayneth, and he may
<PB N="22" REF="12">truly be called a theefe, that taketh to him&s;elfe, an other mans goodes, again&s;t the will of the true owner.</P>
</DIV2>
<DIV2 N="8" TYPE="chapter">
<HEAD><HI>CHAPTER. 8.</HI> Humility continueth her &s;peech.</HEAD>
<P>DESIRE. Now Lady Mother, that you haue tolde me your parentage, &amp; &s;tocke, I de&s;ire to knowe, how you came to be chiefe Gouerne&s;&s;e of this hou&s;e: for in my opinion, it is a great honour and dignity, and I my &s;elfe, in time may come to be a gouernour: for there is greate difference, betweene com|manding, and obeyinge, <HI>Humility</HI> hearing what he &s;aide, beganne to weepe, of whome, <HI>De&s;ire</HI> demaunded the cau&s;e of her weepinge. HVM. My Sonne, I cannot conteyne my teares, to &s;ee, that outwardly thou &s;eeme&s;t clad with the habit of humilitie, and yet inwardly thou appeare&s;t naked, &amp; bare, &amp; that in &s;hew, thou &s;eme&s;t religious and virtuous; but in hart, and minde, voyde of virtue, and deuotion. In vaine haue we v&s;ed our pa&s;&s;ed di&s;cour&s;e, &s;eing the&s;e thoughtes, and de&s;ires of thine, are &s;o cleane repugnant from the wil of my father, &amp; mo&s;t dearly beloued Lord Ie&s;us, who neither in word, nor deed, euer &s;ought, or de&s;ired rule or gouernment, &amp; came not into this world, to be &s;erued, but to &s;erue. From which path who &s;oeuer turneth, and &s;trayeth: walketh the way
<PB N="23" REF="12">of damnation, not &s;aluation. But Oh vnhappy &amp; mi&s;erable creaturs that we are, to whom it is alotted, to rule and gouerne others: con&s;idering how hard a ta&s;ke we take in hand, if we wil but commaund our &s;elues as we ought. Such ho|nor is in deede but mi&s;ery, and full of cares, la|bors, wearines, afflictions, &s;orowes, dangers, &amp; mo&s;t horrible feares and which if it be not well ordered &amp; gouerned, is in the end accompany|ed with ignominy and &s;hame. Oh ouer heauie burthen of rule &amp; co~mandement: in which no|thing is found, put labor, and trouble, wherein hatred, repining, &amp; il wil is receiued from tho&s;e that &s;hould acknowledg, and yeeld obedience and thanks. If thou remaine&s;t any time here a|mong&s;t vs, thou &s;halt finde by experience my &s;ayings true. Now, to an&s;were thy demaund, how I came to be gouerne&s;&s;e: I will, for the <HI>Loue of God</HI> acquaynte thee with the meane. When fir&s;t, I entered into this hou&s;e: I purpo|&s;ed and &s;o per&s;waded my &s;elfe, that I was but a labouring bea&s;te, and the &s;eruant of the other Virgins: and this determination of mine, I &s;o re&s;olued to performe, and imprinted it, deeply in my minde, and hart, continuallie calling it fre&s;hly to my minde, and prayinge to God, to make mee &s;till de&s;ire it, and that it woulde plea&s;e him to make mee worthie to bee his Spou&s;e, and &s;o through his appoynte-ment
<PB N="24" REF="13">I came to be gouerne&s;&s;e, although of my &s;elfe, I neither would, or de&s;ired it. <HI>De&s;ire</HI> hearing <HI>Humilities</HI> di&s;cour&s;e, thought her a Virgin, of very rare vertue, in that for the <HI>Loue of God,</HI> &s;hee had &s;o dejected, and deba&s;ed her &s;elfe; and perceauing her to be yet a Virgin, vnder|&s;tood the Matrimony that &s;hee &s;pake of, to be &s;pirituall, and not carnall, and &s;aid. DE. Then I perceaue, who &s;o will be a Superiour, &amp; ruler, mu&s;t according as you haue done, fir&s;t humble and deba&s;e him&s;elfe. HVM. It is true my Son as by experience thou maye&s;t finde it. DE. And how may I try it? HV. By &s;eeing tho&s;e that humble them&s;elues to be exalted: yet, to take heede, that thou humble not thy &s;elfe to that end, that thereby thou de&s;ire to be exalted, for &s;o, thou &s;halt &s;inne in pride: And pride, &amp; humility are open enemies, and euer oppo&s;e them&s;elues, one again&s;t the other. For what &s;o euer thou doe&s;t, if thou truely humble thy &s;elfe, thou can&s;t not, in the &s;ame action, exalte thy &s;elfe. But if thou humble thy &s;elfe, becau&s;e thou woulde&s;t be exalted, thy &s;hewe, is humble, but thy acte, is proud. And becau&s;e, the action is to be taken, according to the intent of the mind, &s;uch humility is called pride. By which rea&s;on, humilitie, may diuer&s;ly be termed pride. For if wee haue re&s;pect to the action of &s;uch a man outwardly, he carrieth a &s;hew of humility, but
<PB N="25" REF="13">looking to the end of his humble action, wee &s;hall finde it, wholy to proceed from pride. And to &s;peake properly, humility it &s;elfe, con|tendeth not with pride, but the &s;pirit of humi|lity, and it is impo&s;&s;ible, to haue the&s;e two a|gree in one: for humility is but an act, but the &s;pirit of humility, conteyneth both the act, and the cau&s;e, and intention, of humbling, and de|jecting our &s;elues.</P>
</DIV2>
<DIV2 N="9" TYPE="chapter">
<HEAD><HI>CHAPTER. 9.</HI> Humility continueth her di&s;cour&s;e, and teacheth how to &s;triue again&s;t vice.</HEAD>
<P>NOw my forenamed husba~d, (I meane my purpo&s;e I vndertooke to humble my &s;elf, like a labouring bea&s;te, and the &s;eruant of all men,) a&s;&s;i&s;ted me faithfully, in a certayne con|flict I had with an other Lady, and her mai|dens, of the hou&s;e of <HI>Pride,</HI> who&s;e gouerne&s;&s;e was called <HI>Pride of life:</HI> which daily endeuou|reth to &s;crach out mine eyes, and &s;till brauleth with me: An &s;he bringeth with her, both the vnder gouerne&s;&s;e of her hou&s;e, called <HI>Concupi&s;|cence of the fle&s;h;</HI> and her &s;teward, <HI>Concupi&s;|cence of the eyes.</HI> To the&s;e three a&s;&s;ociates, her &s;elfe a lewde maide, both mother, and nur&s;e of them, called <HI>Negligence,</HI> who beinge often weake, and feeble, is ea&s;ily ouercome: but &s;ometime &s;he &s;o filleth her &s;elfe, with eating, &amp; drinking, that &s;hee becommeth fatte &amp; &s;trong,
<PB N="26" REF="14">and then is &s;hee very dangerous. Shee hath at|tending on her, a certayne maide, dull, fooli&s;h, and will brought vp, called <HI>Malice:</HI> with whome come hither, three other Maides, <HI>Anger, Sloath,</HI> &amp; <HI>Enuy.</HI> And vnto the three la&s;t, a&s;&s;ociate them &s;elues, two other, that is, <HI>Naughty Su&s;pition,</HI> and <HI>Ra&s;h Iudgement.</HI> All the&s;e, are at mortall enmity with me, and &s;till oppo&s;e them &s;elues again&s;t me, with whome I am daily, to contende, and fight. Therefore, &s;o oft as they enter in here, I with the a&s;&s;i&s;tance of my husband, &s;traite driue them out, and force them to flie. And then haue we can other feare, lea&s;t the Maide which co~tinually watcheth at the gates, I meane <HI>Vaine-glory,</HI> pre&s;ently &s;teppe in. For if once, we giu her opportunity to enter, &s;he robbeth vs of the fruite, and benefit which we got, by expelling our other forenamed enemyes: &s;o that then we are barraine of all goodnes, and loo&s;e the labour we tooke in our former con|flicte. DE. How then chanceth it, that when the&s;e other your enemies enter in here, &s;he &s;tan|ding at the gates, doth not al&s;o enter. HVM. This is the rea&s;on, tho&s;e other Maydens, v&s;e the benefit of winges, &amp; enter not by the gate, but flie ouer the walles, &amp; often they hide them &s;elues, &s;o &s;ecretly in &s;ome corner of the hou&s;e, that when we lea&s;t &s;u&s;pect them, they walke &amp; wander vp and downe among&s;t vs, wherefore
<PB N="27" REF="14">we are of nece&s;&s;ity, to keepe a carefull watch, lea&s;t &s;uddainly they come vpon vs, and &s;poile vs vnlooked for. DE. Let vs di&s;cour&s;e, yet longer of this matter, and tel me why? You are at &s;uch debate, &amp; contention with them, con&s;i|dering how il a thing it is, to giue &s;uch example to worldly me~, when they &s;hal &s;ee &s;uch di&s;cord, &amp; di&s;&s;ention among&s;t Religious per&s;ons; who they knowe, &s;hould be gentle, pittiful, &amp; milde, for the Loue of God to all men? HVM. The cau&s;e of our &s;trife, and di&s;&s;en&s;ion with them, is al only for that cau&s;e, we expel them our hou&s;e, becau&s;e they are open and profe&s;&s;ed enemies, to the <HI>Loue of God,</HI> who is our chiefe Lord &amp; Ma&s;ter, and who&s;oeuer is an enemy to the <HI>Loue of God,</HI> we wil haue neither friend&s;hippe, or familiarity by any meanes with him.</P>
</DIV2>
<DIV2 N="10" TYPE="chapter">
<HEAD><HI>CHAPTER. 10.</HI> Of Concupi&s;cence of the fle&s;h.</HEAD>
<P>DESIRE was greatly plea&s;ed to heare, how great confidence <HI>Humility</HI> had, in the <HI>Loue of God,</HI> and de&s;ired of her, to in&s;truct him, by what meanes and helpes they ouercame, and expelled: tho&s;e dangerous Maydens, their profe&s;&s;ed enemies. HVM. I would willingly doe it, but becau&s;e I am not yet fully acquainted with thy nature, life, con|ditions and minde, but only goe vpon con|jectures and imaginations; I re&s;t yet doubtfull,
<PB N="28" REF="15">whither I may in&s;truct thee herein or no. For con&s;idering the contrariety, and difference of mens natures, the &s;weete&s;t hony, ta&s;teth not &s;weet to all men. DE. What &s;oeuer I &s;eeme in &s;hewe to your iudgement: or what opinion &s;oeuer you haue of me: yet I wholy &s;ubmit my &s;elfe to your will, and yeelde me to be or|dered by your direction, only de&s;iring to be in&s;tructed by you, what meanes to v&s;e, to finde the <HI>Loue of God.</HI> HVM. Vpon that condi|tion I will &s;atisfie your de&s;ire, and will impart and make knowen to you my exerci&s;es, and cour&s;e of life. Fir&s;t that holy purpo&s;e, and de|termination of myne, which I &s;pake of before, hath made me Mi&s;tris of the whole world, &s;o long as I &s;hall contemne, and de&s;pi&s;e it. And Mi&s;tris ouer my owne body by fa&s;ting, and di&s;cipline, and by my voluntary and willing humility? I &s;ay, not only Mi&s;tris and com|mandre&s;&s;e ouer my gho&s;tly enemy, but ouer all the world and yet farther which is greate&s;t Mi&s;tris and commandre&s;&s;e ouer my &s;elfe, for when the world &s;eeth me to labour, and endeuour, with all my diligence to plea&s;e the <HI>Loue of God,</HI> it repugneth me and all my fa|mily, yet I &s;till reteyne, peace and tranquillity with my forenamed husband. Now <HI>De&s;ire,</HI> greatly admired the vertue and force of him, whome <HI>Humility</HI> &s;o often had named her hus|band,
<PB N="29" REF="15">and &s;aid. DE. I be&s;eech you Lady Mo|ther, in&s;truct mee by &s;imilitudes that I may more playnely conceaue your meaning. For I am but of dull and &s;lowe concepte, and by examples I &s;hall better conceaue your &s;ayings. This reque&s;t of <HI>De&s;ire</HI> plea&s;ed <HI>Humility</HI> well, finding that by acknowledging this owne dul|ne&s;&s;e, he was now become both mode&s;t and humble, wherevpon &s;he &s;aide to him. HVM. So &s;oone as I &s;ee, any of my before named enemies enter in hither, I thus behaue my &s;elfe, if it be the fir&s;t which is <HI>Concupi&s;cence of the fle&s;h.</HI> I foreknowe already her conditions, and behauiours, which are to be exceedingly giuen to gluttony, and to pamper her body by exce&s;&s;e of eating &amp; drinking. Therefore fir&s;t I take from her all kinde of delicate diet, nei|ther do I allowe her, her fill of ordinary meate and drinke; And becau&s;e I am not &s;trong e|nough of my &s;elfe, to tame and ma&s;ter her, in regarde that my dome&s;ticall &s;eruants a&s;&s;i&s;t her, I v&s;e others helpe, and place on my right hand. <HI>Gods grace,</HI> which may &s;trengthen and defende me from this dangerous enemy. I al&s;o craue the ayde and a&s;&s;i&s;tance of my husband, and then &s;ay to her. Si&s;ter, I haue my &s;elfe de&s;pi&s;ed my fle&s;h, and make no better accompte of my &s;elfe than of a labouring bea&s;t, and bea&s;ts &s;eeke not after dairity and decliate fare, but only that, as
<PB N="30" REF="16">may be &s;ufficient to &s;u&s;tayne nature, and are content with that, which is allowed them, by the di&s;cretion of their Ma&s;ter. And if the Ma|&s;ter finde him to be wanton and deuouring, he mu&s;leth him, that he neuer eateth, but when &amp; what in his di&s;cretion he &s;hall like of. And &s;o Si&s;ter, in this re&s;pect I am content to be v&s;ed and ruled like a bea&s;t, be&s;ides the <HI>Loue of God,</HI> hath giuen me a bridell, which is made of So|briety, that I cannot eate but at wonted times, and that I de&s;ire not, or looke to haue any o|ther meate, or more daintely dre&s;&s;ed then &s;uch as ordinariley is &s;et before me, and therewith I &s;atisfie and content my &s;elfe. Farther the <HI>Loue of God</HI> hath enjoyned me to this al&s;o, if I will &s;erue and plea&s;e him as I ought, to eate tempe|rately, and moderately, and only for nece&s;&s;ary &s;u&s;tenance, of that, what &s;oeuer it be that is &s;et before me: &amp; that for good manners I alwayes leaue &s;ome what in the di&s;h, thereby to &s;hewe that more is allowed me, then I can well eate. For when all is eaten that is &s;ett before vs, it is as much as if you &s;houd &s;ay, my allowance is not &s;ufficient for mee, neither am I content therewith, therefore I de&s;ire to haue more &s;et on the table. And yet farther this rule is giuen mee to ob&s;erue for the <HI>Loue of God.</HI> That I would and &s;hould de&s;ire le&s;&s;e to bee allowed mee, and the &s;ame wor&s;e dre&s;&s;ed, then the
<PB N="31" REF="16">allowance of my Si&s;ters: and alwaies to wi&s;h &s;omething to be wanting about me, &amp; therein to rejoyce for the <HI>Loue of God.</HI> By the&s;e &amp; like meanes, this malepert wanton maide is ouer|come, and driuen away from ole&s;ting me. But when againe &s;hee &s;hall prouoke and &s;turre me, to wanton plea&s;ure, not only by my owne fle&s;h, but al&s;o by others. I then fly from her, as fa&s;t as I can &s;ecluding my &s;elfe fro~ al &s;uch com|pany, as may allure or entice me to plea&s;ure or concupi&s;cence. And again&s;t this a&s;&s;ault, I find that to &s;eclude my &s;elfe from co~pany, is a pre|&s;ent remedy and mo&s;t &s;oueraigne pre&s;eruatiue. Neither, doth this enemy a&s;&s;ault me only in my body, but in my &s;oule al&s;o, by &s;ugge&s;ting many ill thoughts. Again&s;t which al&s;o I v&s;e, the remedy of flight and hide my &s;elfe, either in &s;ome corner of a rocke, or els in &s;ome vn|frequented and &s;olitary place, and there &s;ettle all my thoughts and cogitations, vpon my mo&s;t &s;weete Sauiour IESVS, calling to minde his mo&s;t holy life, his pa&s;&s;ion, torments, and mo&s;t bitter death. Al&s;o meditating vpon the cruell torments of Hell, the &s;euere and iu&s;t Iudgement of Almighty GOD. My owne departure from this mi&s;erable world, and that of nece&s;&s;ity I mu&s;t appeere before the Iudge|ment &s;eate of God: there to giue accompt of al my thoughts, wordes, and deeds. By the&s;e and
<PB N="32" REF="17">like means, I ouercome, and put to flight, this forenamed maiden, who is the Lieuetenant of the ca&s;tle of <HI>Pride.</HI></P>
</DIV2>
<DIV2 N="11" TYPE="chapter">
<HEAD><HI>CHPATER 11.</HI> Of the concupi&s;cence of the eyes, and pride of life.</HEAD>
<P>YEt farther, to ouercome and cleane &s;ubdue this enemy, it is al&s;o requi&s;ite to vanqui&s;h and conquer her companion, I meane <HI>Cocupi&s;|cence of the eyes,</HI> the &s;teward or gouernour of the hou&s;e of <HI>Pride:</HI> who alwaies giueth winges to <HI>Concupi&s;cence of the fle&s;h.</HI> For continually &s;hee mini&s;treth occa&s;ion to her companion, who not-with&s;tanding, I ouercome with my holy purpo&s;e. For &s;o &s;oone as &s;hee commeth, I &s;ay thus to her. Si&s;ter, I am no better then a labou|ring bea&s;te, who neuer de&s;ireth &s;uperfluities, or more then is allowed him, but alwaies is contented with &s;o much as is nece&s;&s;ary, neither expecteth curio&s;ity in that which is to be had of nece&s;&s;ity, litle regarding whether his &s;addell and bridle be guilded or imbrodered, or whe|ther the &s;table be curio&s;ly adorned, but con|tent if conueniently he may &s;tand &amp; lie. Con|&s;idering then, that for the <HI>Loue of God,</HI> I ac|count my &s;elfe no better then a bea&s;te: I will al&s;o v&s;e my body as if it were a bea&s;t. And as the breaker, and rider, of a &s;tiffe necked hor&s;e, with the raines of a bridle, enforceth him to &s;toppe &amp; turne: &s;o the <HI>Loue of God,</HI> hath brid|deled
<PB N="33" REF="17">and tide me, with the bridell and chayne of <HI>Schamefa&s;tnes</HI> and <HI>Ba&s;hfulnes:</HI> that I &s;hall not curiuou&s;ly &s;ee, &amp; couet the vanities of the world. For I ought not behold: that I ought not de|&s;ire. And the <HI>Loue of God</HI> hath taught me to &s;ay, when I &s;ee a thing beautiful, plea&s;ing rare, &s;inguler, or curious, I neuer will &s;ettle my loue on thee, but refu&s;e thee, and hold thee but as a meere vanity, therefore remebring the wor|thines of my creation, I will not be&s;towe my loue or fix, my affection, on &s;o vile, &s;o ba&s;e, &amp; &s;o tran&s;itory a thing: but on that which in it &s;elfe is the only trea&s;ure, and goodnes, and a beauty which neither age or &s;ickenes can ble|mi&s;h, I meane on my &s;weete Sauiour and Re|deemer IESVS; who demandeth of me my loue and affection, and may iu&s;tly chalenge the &s;ame as his owne. By the&s;e and like meanes this other Maide is ouercome. Now the&s;e two be|ing vanqui&s;hed in manner as I haue told you, there yet remayneth the la&s;t which is Mi&s;tris of the&s;e, one more terrible, crafty and more &s;uttle than the other, euer lying in wayte to hinder good actions, her name is called <HI>Pride of Life,</HI> who when &s;oeuer &s;hee commeth in hither a|mong&s;t vs, is alwayes attended with one or o|ther hand-maide, and &s;till bringeth with her ei|ther <HI>Good or euell e&s;timation.</HI> But &s;traight I &s;ay to her, a bea&s;t is no better to be accompted of
<PB N="34" REF="18">than a bea&s;t neither is to be thought, worthy of honour, or e&s;timation, but rather ignominy, and ba&s;e contempt. Then &s;ometime &s;he commeth complayning to me, and &s;aith: &s;ee how my &s;u|periours behaue them&s;elues towardes me, and v&s;e me, both in age, witte, and judgment: I am not their inferiors, yet they v&s;e &s;uch and &s;uch a one, with better re&s;pect then me. But pre|&s;ently I finde out her craft and &s;ubtelty, and preuenting her, reply: A bea&s;t is not to be v|&s;ed but ba&s;ely, and according to his Ma&s;ters di&s;cretion, to be whipped and beaten. For If at any time his Ma&s;ter &s;hall v&s;e him but gent|ly, and play with him; he pre&s;ently will kicke, and forgette the duety due to him. Therefore a wi&s;e Ma&s;ter, and men of good gouernment, although they loue their bea&s;tes neuer &s;o well: yet will neuer v&s;e extroardinary, and vndue familiarity to them: but alwayes carry them|&s;elues with a kinde of &s;euere grauity; con&s;i|dering &s;uch familiarit6y is neuer attributed to humility, curte&s;ie, loue, or affability, but ra|ther to &s;implicity, and meere fondne&s;&s;e. For &s;uch familiarity, doth rather hurt, then bene|fitte a bea&s;t. But a di&s;creete, and wi&s;e Ma&s;ter, will rather endeuour with all po&s;sible dili|gence, that his bea&s;t, or hor&s;e, keepe his right way in their journey, and carry carefully, the burthen laide on their backes, then that the
<PB N="35" REF="18">world &s;houlde thinke him fonde of them, or expect to be held a kinde, and louing Ma|&s;ter, and one that &s;hould &s;eeke to be pray&s;ed of them. For by the&s;e meanes it might hap|pen, as oft we &s;ee it, that either the Ma&s;ter to|wardes the bea&s;t, or the bea&s;t forgette him&s;elfe towardes the Ma&s;ter, when the Ma&s;ter v&s;eth not &s;uch rea&s;on, moderation, and di&s;cretion, as he ought: and that indi&s;cretion may giue occa|&s;ion to the bea&s;t, to &s;tray out of their boundes, farther then is allowed, and &s;o by little and lit|tle, v&s;ing an ill cu&s;tome, the Ma&s;ter &s;hall not dare to direct, or gouerne according to the &s;u|periority he hath ouer his bea&s;t; but if hee chaunce for their negligence to &s;trike or beate them, they pre&s;ently will re&s;i&s;t, and kicke a|gaine at him. And then if the bea&s;t happen ei|ther to ca&s;t off his burthen, or el&s;e to carry it contrary to his Ma&s;ters minde, he mu&s;t needes winke at it, and &s;uffer him to goe, where, and as hee will him&s;elfe, and &s;o, he to be obedi|ent to the bea&s;t, not the bea&s;t to him. Euen &s;o Si&s;ter, were it like to prooue vvith mee, if I &s;hould yeelde to my owne &s;en&s;uall affections, and be carried away with worldlie plea&s;ures, and vanities. But hee that loueth me, and hath care ouer me, doth with his di&s;cretion correct me, and bridle my vvill; that I fall not to open &s;hame, and &s;o bee vndone, but
<PB N="36" REF="19">for the loue he carrieth to my &s;oule, he doth cha&s;tice &amp; di&s;cipline my body at his di&s;cretion. Neither doe I my &s;elfe wi&s;h to be v&s;ed better then a bea&s;t. At &s;ome other time the &s;ame <HI>Pride of life,</HI> co~meth to me vnder the colour of <HI>Enuy,</HI> and complaineth thus. See how &s;uch and &s;uch an office is giuen to this, and that body: But no reckening or accompt is made of me. One is made gouerne&s;&s;e, and an other vndergouer|ne&s;&s;e, the third the &s;tewarde, and an other &s;ecre|tary; but my &s;elfe, which am inferiour to none of them in yeares, or de&s;ert, am neglected and nothing regarded at all. No place of credit is committed to me, wherein I might rule or com|mand ouer others: but alwayes I am dejected like a ba&s;e kitchen Wench: Yea, I am made the vnderling of the meane&s;t mayde in the hou&s;e. And now I finde it true that they of be&s;t de&s;ert; are commonly and for the mo&s;t part lea&s;t con|&s;idered. For which cau&s;e hence forth, I will de|&s;erue le&s;&s;e: for I &s;ee, they that counterfette to be lambes are deuored of Wolues. Such and like complaints, doth &s;hee oft make to me, as though I knew not the grounde from whence it came. To whome I an&s;were; Si&s;ter, I haue not giuen ouer and for&s;aken the world, and be|taken my &s;elfe to this &s;olitary, and &s;eque&s;tred life; thereby to rule others, and to moderate their cau&s;es. For &s;ince my fir&s;t entrace heather,
<PB N="37" REF="19">I haue vowed obedience: and therefore will performe that which I came hither to doe, and for which I was called, and which I vndertoke to accompli&s;h at my entrance. For God will neuer demande or aske accompte of me, how much I haue commanded and ruled others, or with how much honor, or how great offices I haue bin exalted in the world: but how hum|bly, and dutifully, I haue obeyed his comman|dements, and how willingly I haue humbled my &s;elfe to my &s;uperiours, and &s;ubjected &amp; de|ba&s;ed my owne wilful &amp; &s;tubborne rude mind. Therefore Si&s;ter, I looke only to di&s;charge and performe my owne office, in that place and de|gree, to which I am called by God, and &s;uffer others to looke likewayes to that charge of theirs, to which by Gods prouidence they are as my &s;elfe called. Meane time this one thing I knowe for certayne, that I liue in the &s;tate of a&s;&s;ured &s;aluation. (That is vnder true obedie~ce, humility, and &s;ubjection;) from which no man can fall, except he fir&s;t clyme higher. And &s;o hereof I haue no ju&s;t cau&s;e to complayne, but rather to rejoyce, pray&s;e, &amp; yeelde daily thanks to Almighty God in that he hath debarred, and as it weare taken from me, the meanes and oc|ca&s;ion of falling into the great perils and dan|gers; into which high offices and places of dig|nity and preferment: are wonte to drawe, and
<PB N="38" REF="20">throwe headlong men that &s;eeke not after per|fection. Which is truely verified by this &s;aying of Saint AVGVSTINE. <HI>I neuer founde Gods ire &amp; indignation more again&s;t me: then that it plea&s;ed him to appoint me a co~mander ouer others.</HI> which truely <HI>De&s;ire</HI> ought not &s;eeme &s;trange to thee. For as this wicked Wench, which beareth &s;uch &s;way in the hou&s;e of <HI>Pride,</HI> is more prone ti wickednes, then all her fellowes: &s;o mu&s;t we (if throughly we will &s;ubdue her) v&s;e greater pollicy, &s;trength, and exerci&s;e of vertue. And to the end I protract not the time with circum|&s;tances, I now will deliuer no vaine di&s;cour&s;e to thee, but will in&s;truct thee, by what meanes and groundes, thou &s;hatl be able: to ouercome and put to flight, this crue of wicked Maydens. When any of the&s;e which &s;o euer &s;hee be &s;hall come: and &s;eeme to complaine as I haue decla|red before: be thou ruled by me and follow my example; As if <HI>Concupi&s;cence of the fle&s;h</HI> &s;hall come &amp; &s;ay, I am allowed both to little meate, and yet that is cold, and not cleanly dre&s;&s;ed: my wyne is &s;owren, &amp; euery thing in our hou&s;e is &s;lutti&s;hly ordered, an&s;were her but thus, &s;he that hath more then &s;he de&s;erueth, hath no cau&s;e to complaine: But thou de&s;erue&s;t not browne bread, &amp; cold water, which mo&s;t holy &amp; Religious men haue beene contented to liue with. Therefore thou, which art &s;o wicked, &s;o
<PB N="39" REF="20">&s;loathfull, &s;o di&s;dainefull, &amp; redy to complaine, voide of all deuotion, incon&s;tant, enuous amd vnthankefull to God: doe&s;t not de&s;erue the cour&s;e&s;t bread and water. Which being true, &amp; yet hauing good bread, wyne, and other meate. Why &s;houlde&s;t thou complaine and ha&s;t more then thy de&s;ert? an&s;were her a like if &s;he finde falte with her apparell. The like reply make al&s;o to <HI>Concupi&s;cence of the eyes,</HI> if &s;he &s;eeke after or wi&s;h for this thing or that, &amp; &s;ay, O wreatch that thou art, who by thy owne de&s;ert, art not worthy to enjoy the lea&s;t good that is. Yet ha&s;t thou the v&s;e, of many deuout and vertuous books, by reading of which if thou woulde&s;t, thou mighte&s;t become good. And although (neuertheles) one where &s;ufficient for thee. Yet ha&s;t thou holy books of prayers and meditati|ons. Tell me what is it thou de&s;ire&s;t more? truly vnder a &s;hewe of de&s;iring things of nece&s;&s;ity: thou longe&s;t after and &s;eeke&s;t for thinges of &s;u|perfluity, then the which nothing can be more oppo&s;ite to the vowe of <HI>Pouertie.</HI> And al|though thereby thy merit be not clearely lo&s;t: Yet a&s;&s;ure thy &s;elfe, it is much impaired. And nothing can more di&s;honor &amp; &s;hame him, that profe&s;&s;eth in pouerty to imitate our Sauiour, then to haue le&s;&s;e vertue and ta&s;t of Religion, then the Heathens who profe&s;&s;ed the wor&s;hip of fal&s;e gods. Among&s;t whome <HI>Seneca</HI> &s;hewed
<PB N="40" REF="21">him &s;elfe a worthy Captayne and teacher of <HI>Pouerty,</HI> as we may finde if we reade what is writen of him. The &s;ame an&s;were giue I to the third, that is, <HI>Pride of life,</HI> when &s;hee commeth to me, with a de&s;ire to be honored, loued, ac|co~pled of, exalted or preferred to &s;ome office. For then &s;ay I to her. Thou wreatched Wench, thou ha&s;t more honor alredy then thou de&s;er|ue&s;t: what ha&s;t thou not through the number of thy &s;innes de&s;erued, to be throwne headlong downe, into the bottomole&s;&s;e pit of hell? here to be partaker of the paynes of the damned, and yet behold, how much thou art honored of God, who not only doth tollerate thee, to liue among&s;t his creatures, but hath admitted thee, al&s;o into his hou&s;e and family: and willingly would haue thee, not only his &s;eruant, but al&s;o if thou woulde&s;t one of his daughters. And al|though thy owne vnworthine&s;&s;e be &s;uch, that thou de&s;erue&s;t not to be reckened among&s;t his inferiour &s;eruants; yet hath he admitted thee into his priuate chamber: and willingly would haue thy pre&s;ence, both night &amp; day, that thou mighte&s;t freely talke with him, pray&s;e him, ho|nour him, and &s;erue him; and that yet liuing here in this mortall life, thou ami&s;t be honored with the office of Angels, be cho&s;en as one of his mo&s;t &s;peciall Friends, &s;it at his owne table, and feede on the foode him &s;elfe feedeth. And
<PB N="41" REF="21">now proude Wench what is it thou woulde&s;t more, whither woulde&s;t thou, through thy pride clyme? woulde&s;t thou a&s;cend againe from whence thou once dide&s;t fall? that thou migh|te&s;t be plunged as deepe in the bottomle&s;&s;e pit of hell, as is <HI>Lucifer</HI> thy father, who&s;e pride threw him thither, what woulde&s;t thou de&s;ire? woulde&s;t thou be God? Truely thou can&s;t not &s;ay that thou wa~te&s;t any thing, open thy blinde eyes, and willingly confe&s;&s;e, that thou ha&s;t re|ceaued greater benefits from God: than thy ba&s;e de&s;erts, could any way chalenge, content thy &s;elfe with that, which it hath plea&s;ed God to be&s;towe on thee, and re&s;t &s;atisfied with that e&s;tate and degree; which God by his &s;eruants hath allotted to thee, and a&s;&s;ure thy &s;elfe that all thinges haue their effect: according to the prouidence and permi&s;&s;ion of God.</P>
</DIV2>
<DIV2 N="12" TYPE="chapter">
<HEAD><HI>CHAPTER 12.</HI> By what meanes the other forenamed naughty Maides may be ouercome.</HEAD>
<P>NOw the&s;e thee principall enemies being cleane ouercome, <HI>Negligence</HI> their nur&s;e is ea&s;ely vanqui&s;hed, who by a thou&s;and &s;ecret corners &s;tealeth in here among&s;t vs. Sometime at time of prayer: and &s;ometimes againe when we &s;hould attend our works and labours. But &s;till I an&s;were her with this or like an&s;were. Si&s;ter, a labouring bea&s;t, or a hor&s;e, is not kepte
<PB N="42" REF="22">in the &s;table, to be idle, liue ea&s;ely, eate, drinke and &s;leepe: but &s;till contentedly to labour, and take paynes. For except he be accu&s;tomed to labour, watch, and fa&s;t; he groweth re&s;t and taketh &s;tomacke, and will &s;trike at his Ma&s;ter, who &s;o &s;one as he perceaueth the ill conditions of his bea&s;t, pre&s;ently will beate him, and kicke him with a &s;pure; Eue~ &s;o the <HI>Loue of God</HI> doth giue me a &s;purre, I meane <HI>Feare,</HI> wherewith when I wax &s;loathfull he pricketh me. And I my &s;elfe, who am but a &s;eruant and a ba&s;e va&s;|&s;all of this hou&s;e, doe finde by proofe, that the Maidens of this place mu&s;t be made to labour, and that they mu&s;t not be fauoured, in that, which is commanded them, neither are to be &s;uffered to liue idelly and wantonly, lea&s;t they growe to haue willes and repugne their &s;upe|riours. For no creature is wor&s;e then a proude and naughty &s;eruant. Farther I demande whi|ther &s;hee thinke the Kingdome of heauen is to be obteyned, by eating, drinking, &s;leeping and liuing idlely, which &s;hee for &s;hame cannot affirme. For our Sauour IESVS Chri&s;t walked a cleane contrary way. And if hee cho&s;e a different way, to come to perpetuall felicity, and would &s;uffer his bitter pa&s;&s;ion, and that way enter into glory: we likewi&s;e if we de&s;ire to be partakers with him in glory, mu&s;t al&s;o walke the path of patience, per&s;ecution,
<PB N="43" REF="22">and pouerty. For &s;o long as our head will goe one way, and our foote an other; our whole body can neuer bee directed the true way. Therefore, except we walke the path of per|&s;ecution, affliction, labour, and contempt; we cannot thinke to be incorporated with him, but like corrupt members, mu&s;t looke to be cut of, and throwen into hell fire: there to be con&s;umed. For except we be pertakers of our Sauiours pa&s;&s;ion, and &s;eeke him, and &s;uffer with him on the &cross; Cro&s;&s;e: we mu&s;t not ex|pect to pertake with him, any part of his glo|ry, or of his re&s;urrection. And to conclude ex|cept we be partakers in this life with our Sa|uiour IESVS Chri&s;t, who was whipped, &s;pit vpon, de&s;pi&s;ed, wearied and toyled with daily labours, poore, continually &s;uffering hunger and thir&s;t, and at la&s;t enduring for our &s;innes his bitter pa&s;&s;ion, and &s;uffering like an offender his paynes on the &cross; Cro&s;&s;e; when not with&s;tanding hee was voide of all faulte, and of all innocents the mo&s;t inno|cent that liued, except I &s;ay we imitate him herein: wee &s;hall neuer finde him a &s;weete, gentle, and friendly King of glory, and Prince of peace. Sometime this naughty Wench, I &s;till meane <HI>Negligence,</HI> creepeth into our O|ratory, and there being weary, through la&s;ines and &s;loath, is perplexed as if &s;hee where ca&s;t
<PB N="44" REF="23">into a pari&s;on. Then &s;ay I, Si&s;ter, true and per|fect Religion, neuer complaineth of trouble|&s;omnes or wearynes. What can I giue againe to our Lord, for the many benefits he hath be|&s;towed no me? What ca I doe or &s;uffer enough for my &s;weete Sauiour and redeemer IESVS, who of this exceeding loue and voluntary will, continewed on the &cross; Cro&s;&s;e, not &s;itting as I doe, but &s;treatched thereon, not clothed, but naked and trembling with cold, not in a hou&s;e as I am, but in the open cold ayer: not hauing &s;hoo&s;e on his feete to keepe them warme, but nayled to the Cro&s;&s;e, with great, boy&s;terowes, and cold yron nayles; all which paynes &amp; tor|me~ts, he &s;uffered for my &s;ake. Why then &s;hould I &s;hew my &s;elfe &s;o vngrate: that althopugh not all: Yet I will not &s;uffer &s;ome what againe for him? he &s;uffered here for my &s;ake, mo&s;t excee|ding mi&s;eries and painefull laboures, and tho&s;e not for an houre a night or a day, but all his life which was 33. yeares: he hong a liue three houres vpon the Cro&s;&s;e, in exceeding paynes, mo&s;t bitrter torments, and vn&s;ufferable griefes, &s;uch I &s;ay, who&s;e like was neuer felte of man: &amp; yet he a mo&s;t louing Sauiour e&s;teemed them but &s;mall in regarde of his loue and kindnes to|wardes me; and willingly would haue &s;uffered yet greater than the&s;e, if nece&s;&s;ity any wayes had vrged him to it. Con&s;idering then that
<PB N="45" REF="23">he is a King, and I no better then a mo&s;t ba&s;e band&s;laue; he God, and I durte, du&s;t, and cor|ruption; he mo&s;t holy and innocent, I a &s;inner worthy of nought but puni&s;hment, then he ha|uing &s;uffered all this for mee: &s;hall I grudge or repine to &s;uffer a little for him? What? is the &s;eruante to be regarded aboue the Ma&s;ter? No. Away then <HI>Negligence.</HI> For I mu&s;t be bu&s;ied in tho&s;e thinges which are my fathers. Smale is the merit we &s;hall receaue here: if we be not free from all wearine&s;&s;e of the place. For cur|&s;ed is he that doeth the workes of God &s;loath|fully and negligently. For God &s;eeketh not &s;eruice that is done him by compultion, neither is he delighted with vnwilling &s;acrifices: but with that which is done with a willing minde, and proceedeth from a &s;incere &amp; perfect hart. Now this old accur&s;ed Wench, being put to her flight, we mu&s;t al&s;o bani&s;h her fooli&s;h had|maydes: who by how much the more they be wicked and dangerous: by &s;o much the more are they vehemente and &s;trong: and the le&s;&s;e we labour to mortifie and &s;ubdue them: the harder &s;hall we finde it to bani&s;h and expell them. The fir&s;t of them which is <HI>Malice,</HI> ac|companed with her daughter <HI>Anger.</HI> I an&s;were in this manner, &s;o &s;one as &s;hee a&s;&s;aulteth me. Si&s;ter, <HI>Charity</HI> is patient and gentle, then taking the a&s;&s;i&s;tance of my husbande: <HI>my Purpo&s;e,</HI> I
<PB N="46" REF="24">&s;uppre&s;&s;e her &amp; againe. Nothing can be in|flicted to this bea&s;t &s;o &s;eueare, but that &s;he hath de&s;erued farre greater correction. If then I haue de&s;erued greater puni&s;hments, I may ju&s;tly &s;ay, I am fauourably &s;pared, not being v&s;ed in rigor according to my de&s;erts. And it is the part of a gentle bea&s;t, not to behaue him&s;elf &s;tubbournly or rudely to his ma&s;ter, &amp; his whole family; but farre co~trary to that, quietly, mode&s;tly, &amp; gent|ly to all men. For although perhaps to day his Ma&s;ter beate him: Yet to morrowe againe he will feede him wa~tonly, &amp; wil behaue him&s;elfe toward him, like a louing &amp; kinde Ma&s;ter. And although perhaps outwardly he make no &s;hew+es of affection; Yet inwardly doubtles he e&s;tee|meth him hightly; but yet di&s;&s;embleth his affe|ction, and loue, lea&s;t hee take &s;tomacke being pampered, and &s;o kicke again&s;t his Ma&s;ter. BE|&s;ides a bea&s;t doth &s;one forget: any wrong or in|iury, &amp; is plea&s;ed againe, if his ma&s;ter but &s;troke him on the head, or the necke. So I my &s;elfe be|ing iniured by any one of my Si&s;ters, imagining I am a bea&s;t &amp; a ba&s;e va&s;&s;all, beare it paciently for the <HI>Loue of God,</HI> and &s;uffer them to v&s;e me according to their plea&s;ures, a&s;&s;uing my &s;elfe, that I cannot endure &s;o many iniuries from them; as my owne vnworthines doth daily de|&s;erue. And knowing farther, that our lord per|mitteth for the heynou&s;nes of my &s;ins: that I be
<PB N="47" REF="24">afflicted of them here in this life, &s;o to learne to &s;uffer afflictions for his &s;ake. And now &s;e this maide, who thou &s;aye&s;t doth wi&s;h me nothing, but hurt &amp; offence, &amp; that other who thou &s;ay|e&s;t doth &s;ecretly backbite me, &amp; al the&s;e other, of whom I am &s;o hated as thou &s;aye&s;t. The&s;e I &s;ay hate not or malice me: but my vices, faultes, defectes, my malice, my ill manners and condi|tions, &amp; mo&s;t of al my ob&s;tinate, &amp; &s;tubbourne will. Therefore I haue cau&s;e rather to thinke they loue me; for what herein they do, procee|deth from zeale and a mo&s;t holy purpo&s;e, nei|ther haue they any agreement with <HI>Malice,</HI> or thinke her meete to comfort with <HI>Vertue.</HI> Let vs now therefore con&s;ider more iudicially. If I be, or would be thought the ha~dmaide of God. I mu&s;t hate &amp; dete&s;t (euen from my hart) al my &s;ins, defectes, offences, &amp; imperfections, &amp; the prone&s;&s;e of my fraylty, which draweth me to the&s;e, which being true, why &s;hould I malice or &s;tomacke tho&s;e, which doe but that which my &s;elfe am bound to. To conclude. Know that the&s;e who thou &s;aye&s;t &s;peake ill of me, and de|tract me, yet not with&s;tanding are my &s;i&s;ters, whom I am co~manded to loue, not to hate. And therfore wil I do that which I am enioyned. Yet meane while let them con&s;ider, and weigh with them&s;elues, why and to what end they afflict &amp; iniure me. Now againe at &s;ome other time &s;he
<PB N="48" REF="25">trieth me with <HI>Enuie</HI> a maide who v&s;eth a two edged &s;word &amp; hurteth her Si&s;ters both in bo|dy and &s;oule. This Wench is indeede a dange|rous enemie, who&s;e chiefe&s;t felicitie is in her Si|&s;ters hurt: and is neuer more grieued then at there vertue and good life. Therefore when &s;hee commeth to a&s;&s;ault me, I &s;ay Si&s;ter you complaine and &s;eeme to be grieued that others in this world po&s;&s;e&s;&s;e greater riches, that o|thers, are endued with more rare bewtie, that others haue more abundantly the giftes of na|ture then your &s;elfe, but I take comfort and reioyce euen in that, and think my &s;elfe happy in wanting them. For neither in this life or the life to come: De&s;ire I any thing but IESVS Chri&s;t my Sauiour, he is my trea&s;ure, and the trea&s;ure of Angels, he is my beauty, and the beauty of all creatures, he is my gayne, and the fountayne of all goodnes. Let others fix their loue where be&s;t it &s;hall like them; I de&s;ire only my Sauiour IESVS, and his loue euer doe I thir&s;t after with him is no difference twixt ritch and poore, he neuer di&s;tingui&s;heth twixt beau|tifull and fowle. Yet here thou complanie&s;t &amp; &s;aye&s;t to me: this and that body abounde, and excell in wealth and beauty: &s;uch &amp; &s;uch hap|pines is giuen them, and not me. But on the contrary this I reply. Although the&s;e parties are po&s;&s;e&s;&s;ed of the&s;e plea&s;ures; yet haue I my
<PB N="49" REF="25">&s;elfe thinges of greater e&s;teeme. For &s;o noble and &s;o great is the minde that I carry, that it skorneth to be&s;towe loue or affection: on &s;o ba&s;e, &s;o abject, and &s;o tran&s;itory plea&s;ures. And con&s;idering that my name is called <HI>HUmility,</HI> by humility meane I to conquer my &s;elfe. And I finde the &s;eruants and children of God, to a|bounde with the&s;e, and greater ble&s;singes: but not my &s;elfe, who am a ba&s;e va&s;&s;all, and no way worthy to be partaker thereof. Now <HI>Enuie</HI> &s;ee|ing &s;hee preuayleth little with her former ob|jections, vrgeth in an enuious manner, the gift of &s;pirituall vertues, &s;aying, beholde &s;uch a &s;i|&s;ter who thou knowe&s;t right well, is more gi|uen to vertue and deuotion, then thou art; is more conuer&s;ant with God, and more exerci|&s;ed in contemplation, and is a Virgin of noted &s;obriety, and mode&s;ty. To whome I &s;treight an&s;were. For what cau&s;e de&s;ire I to be religi|ous, or to be vertuous and deuoted to prayer? becau&s;e others &s;hould thinke better of me, then they doe of my &s;i&s;ters, prai&s;e me, honour me, or admire my vertues? or el&s;e becau&s;e I would be more daintely fedde, cladde more co&s;tly, or abound in worldly plea&s;ures. No truely, but for this cau&s;e only, that I may &s;erue and plea&s;e God, and that my &s;weete Sauiour Ie&s;us, may by me, and in me, be pray&s;ed and honoured. Therefore is it my dutie, and that which I am
<PB N="50" REF="26">bound to rejoyce in, when I &s;ee that my mo&s;t louing Lord and Ma&s;ter, hath &s;uch vertuous deuout &s;eruants, that be wholy giuen to his &s;er|uice and prayer, and endued with mo&s;t rare ho|lines of life, and &s;pende their time in Religious exerci&s;es. And I hold it my duety to pray to God, to giue them greater perfection, &amp; more abundat grace, whereby he may be more high|ly honored of them. For if I had but the lea&s;t ta&s;t of Gods loue in me, wherein not my part &amp; duety to labour what I cold: that he might be knowen, honored and loued of all the world, &amp; to pray that he would be&s;towe his grace on all men, whereby he might of them be continually honored? Therefore mo&s;t accur&s;ed Wench, flie farre from my &s;ight. Thou knowe&s;t not what charitable Loue is, con&s;idering thou art the daughter of that wicked, damnable, and fal&s;e <HI>Apo&s;tata.</HI> For I would if it plea&s;ed God, that he depriued me of all &s;pirituall &amp; corporall good, which of his bountie he hath be&s;towed on me, and giue them to others, who with them would honor, and pray&s;e him more then I doe, who am &s;o barraine and vnfruitfull a &s;oyle, and haue receaued his grace and giftes in vaine. For I de|&s;ire nothing in this world, but Gods pray&s;e and honor; and will daily &s;eeke it, how dearely &s;o euer I obtayne it. See then wreatched Wench how farre thou art deceaued. Marke&s;t thou
<PB N="51" REF="26">not that God knoweth what he doeth? he &s;eeth plainely that the&s;e ve&s;&s;els, into which &s;o abun|dantly he infu&s;eth his ble&s;&s;ings: be farre more pure, &amp; of a more humble &s;pirit then I my &s;elf. And therefore iu&s;tly hath denyed mee &s;uch grace, &s;eing right well that I am full of pride, &amp; a ve&s;&s;ell filled with anger and malice, which through haughtines of minde would proudely attempt: to &s;cale (if it cold) the heauens them|&s;elues, which duely pondered, I re&s;t contented with the will and plea&s;ure of my &s;weete Lord IESVS, neither de&s;ire I to finde ought el&s;e but him.</P>
</DIV2>
<DIV2 N="13" TYPE="chapter">
<HEAD><HI>CHAPTER. 13.</HI> By what meanes we may expell all Malice from our &s;elues.</HEAD>
<P>THe third daughter of <HI>Malice,</HI> is called <HI>Sloath,</HI> a mo&s;t dangerous enemy, who is cold and la&s;ie in &s;pirituall exerci&s;es, and the &s;eruice of GOD: Wherein con&s;i&s;teth the &s;umme of our &s;aluation. Her am I wonte to an&s;were in this manner. Thou de&s;ire&s;t Si&s;ter and willingly woulde&s;t per&s;wade me, neither to frequent the &s;eruice of GOD: nor to v&s;e at all anie &s;pirituall exerci&s;es. And therefore of purpo&s;e to conquer and &s;ubdue thee: I will &s;pende more time, in watching, and pray|ing, and diume contemplation, where vnto &s;he
<PB N="52" REF="27">thus replyeth. See&s;t not thou thy &s;elfe euen frozen with a cold deuotion, and to feele no whitte at all any zeale of Gods &s;eruice in thee, but to v&s;e thy exerci&s;es, again&s;t thy owne vo|luntary di&s;po&s;ition, which prouoketh iu&s;tly the indignation of God. Neither doe&s;t thou ought els but tempt God therein: who de&s;ireth no vnwilling, or impul&s;iue &s;eruices; but &s;uch as proceede from a chearefull and willing minde. Then reply I againe. Away thou wicked wreatch, I perceaue thy meaning. Knowe&s;t thou not that at &s;uch time I &s;hew my loue grea|ter to God, when I &s;erue him with my owne will be it neuer &s;o &s;mall: then when I finde my &s;elfe endued with extraordinary deuotion by him? art thou ignorant that God &s;ometimes of purpo&s;e withdraweth his grace: thereby to try and prooue our &s;trength? And then when he perceaueth vs to offer vp, and be&s;towe on him that little deuotion which is remayning in vs: he doubleth his grace, &amp; heauenly con&s;olation in vs. Yet &s;o, that finding our &s;elues voide of inwarde &s;en&s;ible grace, we ca&s;t not cleane away our good will, &amp; harty de&s;ire. Therfore where|as thou aske&s;t why being &s;o cold, and cleane voide of deuotion, yet I goe to pray (con&s;ide|ring as thou &s;aye&s;t, that is but to tempt God) a&s;&s;ure thy &s;elfe, although I felt in me farre le&s;&s;e deuotion, and will to &s;erue God: yet that not
<PB N="53" REF="27">with&s;tanding I would frequent my prayers, and would &s;et my &s;elfe in the &s;ight of our Lord, nei|ther would I &s;peake or de&s;ire ought of him, but &s;tanding before him, would yeeld to him al due honor and reuerence, imagining him|&s;elfe to be pre&s;ent in my &s;ight, and that I beheld him, and that there I &s;toode before his high, diuine, and fearefull Maje&s;ty. That he who is the fire of loue would inflame my harte when he &s;hould thinke conuenient. Therefore &s;ubmit I my &s;elf to his holy will, &amp; am content with that which it &s;hall plea&s;e him to graunt me. And the wea|ker, fainter, and colder I finde my &s;elfe, &s;o much the nearer I will come to this fire. For if I will depart from it, then &s;hall I finde my &s;elfe farre colder then before. Therefore depart from me thou naughty Wench. For I doe not v&s;e &amp; fre|quent my daily prayers, my deuout contempla|tions, and &s;pirituall exerci&s;es for my owne con|tentment, comfort, or delight; but only to this end, thereby to &s;erue my Lord God &amp; honour him, con&s;idering I know we it to be his holy will and plea&s;ure, that I &s;hould do &s;o, and that I ex|erci&s;e my &s;elfe in all vertue, and holines to the honour &amp; pray&s;e of his holy name. Now when this wicked mayden with her practi&s;es cannot withdrawe me from the <HI>Loue of God.</HI> She ta|keth a new cour&s;e, and laboureth to winne my loue from my fellow Si&s;ters. And taking the
<PB N="54" REF="28">a&s;&s;i&s;tance of her before named Nouices, <HI>Su&s;piti|on,</HI> and <HI>ra&s;h iudgme~t</HI> a&s;&s;aulteth me againe, &amp; per|&s;wadeth me to hate and malice my &s;i&s;ters, and to carry a &s;ini&s;ter opinion of them, whereby I &s;hould, either &s;u&s;pect &s;ome ill in them, or el&s;e ra&s;hly without &s;ome ju&s;t cau&s;e condemne the~: hence proceede contempt, repining, murmu|ring, and detraction. But my &s;elfe with the a&s;|&s;i&s;tance of my <HI>Purpo&s;e</HI> marking her; pre&s;ently an&s;were. It be&s;eemeth not &s;o ba&s;e, and &s;o ab|ject a maide as my &s;elfe, to judge ami&s;&s;e of my &s;i&s;ters, or Superiours: neither lawfull for &s;in|ners to intermeddle with &s;acred ve&s;&s;elles, or for bea&s;tes to come nigh the holy mountaine. It be&s;t be&s;eemeth me to account all my &s;i&s;ters, vertuous, and holy: but my &s;elfe mo&s;t wreat|ched, and full of foule &s;inne. For it is a &s;e|cret to me, what all men are in the &s;ight of GOD, or in what manner they &s;hall ende this mortall life. As for my &s;elfe, I knowe right well, that my prone&s;&s;e to &s;inne, and naughty appetites and de&s;ires, woulde drawe me headlong to the pitte of hell, were I not pre&s;erued by Gods diuine grace and mercie. Therefore knowe I right vvell what I may feare of my &s;elfe and &s;u&s;pect, that is, whe|ther my con&s;cience, my wordes, and deedes, be good: for I know my &s;elfe, but am a &s;tran|ger to others. And therefore &s;o much as ap|pertayneth
<PB N="55" REF="28">to my fellowes, I will choo&s;e the &s;afe&s;t cour&s;e, that is, to thinke, and &s;peake all good of them; a&s;&s;uring my &s;elfe thereby to gaine, but neuer to loo&s;e. For nothing is more dangerous, then to be ruled by our owne will, and to refu&s;e a certainty, for an vncer|tainety. Charity neuer thinketh ami&s;&s;e. And I finde it a charge great enough for me, to judge and di&s;cerne mine owne con&s;cience, my affections, my wordes, and deedes: and not to bu&s;ie my &s;elfe in cen&s;uring the&s;e, not curiou&s;ly to intermeddle in others actions. For vvho made me a Iudge, betweene God and my &s;i&s;ters? or betweene them and their owne con&s;ciences? Truly no man. Avoide thou therefore, or ha&s;t thou ought el&s;e to &s;ay? I plainely &s;ee thou art nowe ouercome, in &s;eeking to &s;ugge&s;t to me a &s;u&s;pition of my &s;i&s;ters, vvhich is a mo&s;t damnable, and wick|ed thing, and wholy repugnant to holy, and true meaning &s;implicity, whereof God him|&s;elfe is the chiefe&s;t Author: with vvhome, no man may, or can at any time di&s;&s;emble. And if any man will &s;ay, that mi&s;tru&s;t, or &s;u&s;|pition may be admitted, and allowed in a Su|periour, or any one that hath rule ouer o|thers, and that my before alleadged rea|&s;ons bee not &s;ufficient to refute him, let him a&s;&s;ure him&s;elfe, that greate diligence,
<PB N="56" REF="29">much wi&s;edome, and carefull circum&s;pection, mu&s;t therein be v&s;ed: and that for this re&s;pect, as experience teacheth vs. If a man wil be &s;u&s;|pitious of his wifes loyalty and hone&s;ty, &amp; &s;he &s;hall perceaue her husbandes di&s;tru&s;t: although perhaps before &s;ne were true to him, and ho|ne&s;t; yet may &s;he thereby be moued to di&s;loy|alty. Whereupon <HI>Seneca</HI> &s;aith, <HI>Su&s;pition is the cau&s;e of many mens &s;inne.</HI> Therefore con&s;idering their intention and purpo&s;e is good: vvhy &s;houlde&s;t thou &s;ay their actions are naught, when in all likelihoode they might erre, either through ignorance, or &s;implicity, or want of experience, by &s;ome &s;odaine motion, or hu|mane frailitie, or by &s;ome naturall imperfection which they are &s;ubject to. And in all the&s;e ac|cidents, no malitious, or fooli&s;h ra&s;h judgment is to be giuen. But rather we mu&s;t pittie and be &s;orrowfull for &s;uch imperfections, and ex|cu&s;e them charitably for <HI>the Loue of God.</HI> But if this an&s;were in rea&s;on will not &s;uffice thee, becau&s;e thou &s;ai&s;t their offences be too appa|rant, then I &s;ay, God by his &s;ecret judgment &s;uffereth &s;uch thinges to happen, through who&s;e prouidence, all thinges happen, that exceede our gro&s;&s;e capacities. And as he ne|uer cea&s;eth of him&s;elfe to doe good in vs: &s;o &s;ometime permitteth he that we fall into &s;uch temptations, which notwith&s;tanding hee oft
<PB N="57" REF="29">turneth, either to the good of him that offen|ded, or el&s;e, to the good of others, that haue &s;eene it. Take thou heede therefore, thou proceede no farther herein. For hee that will take vpon him to judge others, vndertaketh that which appertayneth to GOD, or rather de&s;ireth that him&s;elfe were GOD. Marke then wicked wreatch, what befell thy Father, when he a&s;pired to be like vnto GOD. Far|ther, a hor&s;e, or any other labouring bea&s;t, is not of &s;o malitious, or enuious a nature, that he &s;u&s;pect, or holde in jealou&s;ie his fel|lowe bea&s;tes, or cen&s;ure their actions in a wronge vnder&s;tanding. But hath his minde onlie fette on his journey, and that hee may carry his burthen according to his Ma&s;ters minde. Neither regardeth hee if any of his fellowes erre in their way, but with an hone&s;t emulation will labour to his power, to fol|lowe, or goe before tho&s;e he ought to imi|tate: which if he cannot, yet will he keepe the way that he is directed, and not intermeddle with any but him&s;elfe. Neither will he &s;eeke at any time to goe backe againe, or re&s;t in his journey; except thereby he may performe what he vndertaketh the better: neither grudge or repine at that he is commaunded, or back|bite, or &s;launder his Ma&s;ter, or any other. Con&s;idering then, that I haue made my &s;elfe
<PB N="58" REF="30">a bea&s;t for <HI>the Loue of God:</HI> I mu&s;t humble and carry my &s;elfe like a bea&s;t, and intermedle with nothing but with my &s;elfe.</P>
</DIV2>
<DIV2 N="14" TYPE="chapter">
<HEAD><HI>CHAPTER. 14</HI> Of other exerci&s;es of Humility.</HEAD>
<P><HI>DE&s;ire</HI> hauing with admiration attentiuely marked the exerci&s;es of <HI>Humilitie,</HI> &s;aid vn+to her. Now finde I that true Lady Mother, which I haue heard: that <HI>Humilitie</HI> contey|neth in her &s;elfe, all ju&s;tice, vertue, peace, qui|etne&s;&s;e, and happine&s;&s;e, and all &s;pirituall, and temporall comfort, and contentation. Yet far|ther, I de&s;ire to know one doubt; whether the&s;e naughty wenches, when they come in here a|mong&s;t you, be knowne by &s;ight: or whether they take the habit of your Virgins, and &s;o by &s;ubteltie intermingle among&s;t them: or what meane and way you haue to di&s;couer them. HVM. Truly Son, thy que&s;tion is a matter of great importance. Knowe therefore that the <HI>Diuine goodne&s;&s;e</HI> hath hanged vp a Lampe in the mide&s;t of our chamber, called <HI>good Con&s;cience,</HI> which burneth day and night, beeing kindled with the oyle of his <HI>Mercy,</HI> and the wicke, or cotton of <HI>holy Scripture.</HI> Farther, this Lamp is to be tyed with a rope, called <HI>Watch ouer our harts,</HI> to a nayle, which is called, <HI>Watch ouer our &s;ences:</HI> Now &s;o long as this Lamp is kindled and bur|neth: we neuer feare them, becau&s;e we doe pre|&s;ently
<PB N="59" REF="30">know them. And although they inter|mingle them&s;elues with the good: yet by their gate, we ea&s;ely di&s;cerne the~. For they be croke &s;houldered, and hault, and limp in their pa&s;e, &s;o that they neither can goe &s;peedely, nor accor|ding to the vowe they made. But if through our &s;innes this Lampe be extingui&s;hed, or by our negligence the nayle &s;lippe out, or the rope chaunce to breake, or our Lord for our deme|rits withdrawe the oyle (which he neuer doth except we fir&s;t &s;hedde it) then are we in dark|ne&s;&s;e, and all things fall out to the wor&s;t for vs. Therefore pray wee dayly to our Lord God, that it will plea&s;e him of his goodne&s;&s;e, to lighten our Lamp, &s;aying with the Prophet <HI>Dauid: For thou O Lord do&s;t lighten my Lampe: lighten</HI> O <HI>God my darknes.</HI> DE. God I be&s;eech him, giue you his grace &amp; charity: for you haue greatly comforted my &s;pirits. HVM. Take nowe for thy companions the&s;e Virgins here, &amp; let them &s;o long accompany thee, vntil thou be throughly armed with true feare: that if by chaunce the&s;e wicked we~ches fortune to meete thee, they aduenture not to &s;hew their hate &amp; malice again&s;t thee, nor endeuour to withdraw thee from among vs. Here ha&s;t thou <HI>Seueritie</HI> again&s;t <HI>Concupi&s;cence of the fle&s;h</HI> the fir&s;t. <HI>Man|hood or &s;trength</HI> again&s;t <HI>Concupi&s;cence of the eyes</HI> the &s;eco~d. <HI>Humility</HI> again&s;t <HI>Pride of life</HI> the third.
<PB N="60" REF="31"><HI>Diligence</HI> again&s;t <HI>Negligence,</HI> the fourth. <HI>Gentle|ne&s;&s;e</HI> again&s;t <HI>Malice,</HI> the fift. And now the grace of God be alwayes with thee.</P>
</DIV2>
<DIV2 N="15" TYPE="chapter">
<HEAD><HI>CHAPTER. 15.</HI> Of the vertues, that be daughters of Humilitie.</HEAD>
<P>HVM. Thus by the grace of Almighty God, and the helpe and a&s;&s;i&s;tance of my forenamed husbande: Iouercome and &s;ubdue my enemies, and my &s;elfe. <HI>De&s;ire</HI> much plea&s;ed with this di&s;cour&s;e of <HI>Humility,</HI> &s;aid to her: DE. I entreate you Lady Mother, that it may &s;tand with your good likeing, that I may vi&s;it and be acquainted with the Virgins of this &s;o|ciety. HVM. Proceede my Sonne a&s;&s;i&s;ted with Gods grace, mo&s;t willingly I a&s;&s;ent to thy de&s;ire. And thou daughter, which art &s;teward of this hou&s;e, accompany him, and &s;hewe him the hou&s;e, and bring him to the Celles of euerie Virgin. This &s;aid, <HI>De&s;ire</HI> departed chearefully out, of the Lady Mothers chamber, accompa|ned with <HI>Nihili-pen&s;io</HI> or <HI>Contempt of all vnne|ce&s;&s;ary cares.</HI> Who was &s;teward of the hou&s;e, &amp; gouerne&s;&s;e of the Nouices, and was carried by her to the Cell of a Virgin, who was the fir&s;t, &amp; elde&s;t daughter of <HI>Humility,</HI> called <HI>Confe&s;&s;ion,</HI> of whome he asked the manner, of her life and conditions. CONF. I am the daughter of our Mother <HI>Humility,</HI> and the &s;choller of this
<PB N="61" REF="31">Virgin here our gouerne&s;&s;e, with whome I oft frequent, and am much delighted with her fa|miliarity, and acknowledge my &s;elfe what I am, according as I finde my &s;elfe in examining my con&s;cience. <HI>De&s;ire</HI> thought this Virgin of rare and &s;inguler vertue, and departing from her was brought into the Cell of an other daughter of <HI>Humility,</HI> who&s;e name was <HI>De&s;ire of Conte~pt,</HI> who receauing him courteou&s;ly, was asked of <HI>De&s;ire,</HI> both her name and conditions. VIR. my name is <HI>De&s;ire of Coutempt,</HI> becau&s;e I de&s;ire, not to be honoured or e&s;teemed of any man. <HI>De&s;ire</HI> wondered hearing this Virgin de&s;ire to be &s;o much contemned, con&s;idering how diffe|rent it was from the mindes of mo&s;t men. But admired her vertues, finding, &s;he did it for the <HI>Loue of God.</HI> And leauing her, was brought in|to the Cel of an other Virgin, who&s;e name was <HI>To reioyce in being contemned.</HI> Of whome <HI>De&s;ire</HI> being entertayned, demaded likewi&s;e her name and conditions. VIR. My name is <HI>To reioyce to be contemned.</HI> For I wi&s;h to be de&s;pi&s;ed, &s;cor|ned, and iniured for the <HI>Loue of God.</HI> DE. In&s;truct me I be&s;eech you how I may attayne to this vertue, for &s;uch is the haughtines of my proude minde, that I doe not only reioyce: but am grieued and repine if I be contemned, &s;cor|ned, de&s;pi&s;ed, or iniured, VIR. That pro|ceedeth from want of <HI>Humility,</HI> who&s;e vertue
<PB N="62" REF="32">is to contemne, and neglect her &s;elfe for the <HI>Loue of God.</HI> And truely this is an apparant token that thou abounde&s;t vvith pride, and ouer much &s;elfe loue. But &s;eing thou art by GOD conducted hither into this Mona&s;te|ry, we will willingly in&s;truct thee, in all kinde of vertue, and altering thy habit, will make thee a newe man, and will direct and in&s;truct thee, how to &s;peake with the <HI>Loue of God,</HI> for other wayes thou &s;halt be &s;ure for to loo&s;e thy labour. Therefore if thou woulde&s;t at|tayne to my vertue, thou mu&s;t imprinte in thy hart my Si&s;ter, <HI>De&s;ire to bee contemned,</HI> thinking and determining thus with thy &s;elfe, henceforth will I de&s;ire to be &s;corned and con|temned, and to be neglected of all men for the <HI>Loue of God.</HI> This de&s;ire once throughly fixed in thy hart, thou &s;halt by degrees at|tayne to my vertue, through prayer &s;tudy, and diligent endeuour. And although at the beginning thou &s;halt endure &s;ome la|bour and payne: by &s;triuing to &s;ubdue and ma&s;ter thy owne appetites: Yet per&s;euer to the end, and thou &s;halt gette the victorie. In &s;o much that thou &s;halt rejoyce; when any thing is &s;aid or done to thee, contrary to thy likeing. Farther thou mu&s;t by degrees enforce thy &s;elfe to de&s;ire, to be &s;corned, de&s;|pi&s;ed and contemned. For it is mo&s;t true, that
<PB N="63" REF="32">no man can be humble, that is not ju&s;t. And he that &s;hall not de&s;ire, to be de&s;pi&s;ed, con|temned, mocked, and deba&s;ed, this man can|not be called ju&s;t. DE. How may that be, that who&s;oeuer de&s;ireth and wi&s;heth not to bee de&s;pi&s;ed, &s;hould bee &s;aid to bee a man vn|ju&s;t. For by that accompt, wee &s;hall finde but fewe ju&s;t men, and in my opinion this can|not be true. VIRG. I will ea&s;ely prooue what I haue &s;aid. It cannot be denied but that hee is ju&s;, which giueth to each man, that which is right: if therefore man can chalenge nothing el&s;e for him&s;elfe, but to be contem|ned, &s;corned, mocked and deba&s;ed; hee is not ju&s;t which de&s;ireth, not to bee &s;o v&s;ed. DE. I would heare you prooue that, and &s;hewe plainely how, nothing but contempt is due to man. VIRG. I will. Fir&s;t there is no que&s;tion, but that all that which is good, ought be loued, honored, de&s;ired, and pray|&s;ed, and how much greater and better it is, &s;o much the more it ought to be loued: con|trarie wayes, that what &s;o is naught, ought to be de&s;pi&s;ed, hated, rejected, and &s;uppre&s;&s;ed. Now if it be true that euery men is ill, it fol|loweth that of right hee mu&s;t bee contemned and de&s;pi&s;ed. DE. Tell mee how all men are to be &s;aid to be naught. VIRG. Only GOD is good, therefore all men are naught.
<PB N="64" REF="33">DE. I cannot yeald to that conclu&s;ion. VIRG. Logitians &s;hall proue, that none is good but God: and what&s;oeuer is not God, is not good, but ill. And if man be ill, that all &s;hame, re|proach, and contempt is due to him.</P>
</DIV2>
<DIV2 N="16" TYPE="chapter">
<HEAD><HI>CHAPTER. 16.</HI> How all creatures are good, and yet none is good, but God him&s;elfe.</HEAD>
<P>DESIRE. I am not yet re&s;olued by thy alleadged rea&s;ons, con&s;idering thou &s;ai&s;t that God is good, and that what&s;oeuer is not God, is not to be &s;aid good. And the holy Scripture &s;aith, that God &s;awe all thinges that he had made, &amp; that they were not only good, but very good. Farther, con&s;idering God is good (as indeede he is the chiefe goodne&s;&s;e it &s;elfe, and the efficient cau&s;e, and beginning of all thinges created) all things that he hath made mu&s;t of nece&s;sity be good, that the worke be an&s;werable to the workeman that made it. Whereupon it followeth, that what&s;oeuer God hath made mu&s;t of nece&s;sitie be very good. Be|&s;ides, con&s;idering man is the mo&s;t excellent of all corporal creatures, it is plaine, that he is not only good, but very good. And then if he be good, by thy owne rule it followeth, that both honour and loue, are due to him. VIRG. I will not maintaine a long di&s;putation with thee, for that di&s;agreeth with the rules of <HI>Hu|mility,</HI>
<PB N="65" REF="33">only I will open what I haue &s;aid more at large, that thou mai&s;t better vnder&s;tand my meaning. The &s;cripture &s;ayeth, that none is good but only God. Which is thus to be vn|der&s;tood, that only God is e&s;&s;entially good; &amp; to be good is only proper to him. And what &s;oeuer he hath made, may be &s;aid to be good, participating in goodnes, giue~ to them by God: For what&s;oeuer goodnes they haue is Gods, not their owne. So when thou &s;ee&s;t good giftes be&s;towed on any creature from aboue, thou mu&s;t honor and loue &s;uch a creature; But this honor and loue mu&s;t be referred to God, and not to the creature. Therefore our &s;elues and all creatures are to be loued of vs, becau&s;e they be good in their e&s;&s;ence or being, as the crea|tures of God &amp; this is, to loue God in his crea|tures. Let not therefore any man de&s;ire, to be pray&s;ed or honored for his owne &s;ake: but for the goodne&s;&s;e which God hath be&s;towed on him: attributing and referring it all to GOD. For it is one thing that man hath from God, but an other which he hath of him &s;elfe. From God he hath what good &s;oeuer is, but from him &s;elfe what&s;oeuer is ill. He hath from God that he repre&s;enteth, and carrieth his Image &amp; like|ne&s;&s;e. But of him &s;elfe through wicked life and euell manners, he is made altogither di&s;like to God. Al&s;o it is giuen to him by the grace of
<PB N="66" REF="34">God, to de&s;ire to be good and endued with ver|tue: but of him&s;elfe hee de&s;ireth ill, and doeth tho&s;e thinges that mo&s;t di&s;plea&s;e God. From hence we learne that tho&s;e thinges which are be&s;towed on man from aboue, are greatly to be honoured, and highly to be loued, which are the co~ditions of his creation &amp; his natural ble&s;|&s;ings, &amp; yet not to be loued for his owne &s;ake, but for the honor of God: co~trary tho&s;e things to be hated, which are in man him&s;elfe, as his vices offences &amp; al other imperfections. So that diuer&s;ly we honor &amp; de&s;pi&s;e, loue &amp; hate &s;ome thinges, in one &amp; the &s;elfe &s;ame man. And be he endued with neuer &s;o great vertue &amp; deuotion: Yet let him be a&s;&s;ured, that of him&s;elfe he hath nothing that is good, and &s;till let him de&s;ire that in regarde of the good giftes be&s;towed on him by god, be they vertue, deuotion or other &s;pirituall benefits, that God alone be honored and loued for them, and that all pray&s;e be gi|uen to him as to the fountayne of all goodnes. But for the &s;inne in him, which he knoweth to be his owne, let him de&s;ire to be de&s;pi&s;ed, hated, and contemned of all men. This doing I &s;ay he is to be accompted iu&s;t. But if euery iu&s;t man &s;hall de&s;ire to be contemned after this &s;ort, how great is the iniu&s;tice of a man de&s;iled with &s;inne, not only not to de&s;ire to be con|temned as I haue &s;aid: but to de&s;ire and la|bour
<PB N="67" REF="34">to be honoured and extolled: Let not therefore a wreatched &s;inner thinke and ima|gine that he hath &s;hewed much <HI>Humility,</HI> in de&s;iring to be contemned, or let him not be the better per&s;waded of him &s;elfe, therefore con&s;i|dering the mo&s;t holy, vertuous, and deuoute&s;t man is bound of duty to de&s;ire as much.</P>
</DIV2>
<DIV2 N="17" TYPE="chapter">
<HEAD><HI>CHAPTER. 17.</HI> Of the &s;ame.</HEAD>
<P><HI>DE&s;ire</HI> was not a little plea&s;ed herewith, and &s;aid to this Virgin. DE. I be&s;eech you Si&s;ter in&s;truct and direct me, by what meanes I may attayne to this holy De&s;ire. VIR. Two wayes there bee, by which thou mai&s;t obtayne it, which are the <HI>Loue of God,</HI> and a <HI>holy Purpo&s;e,</HI> to object &amp; imba&s;e thy &s;elfe like to a labouring bea&s;t: to which <HI>holy Purpo&s;e</HI> our <HI>Gouerne&s;&s;e</HI> hath wedded her &s;elf. And if thou wilt be ruled by my directions, thou &s;halt finde thy &s;elfe not a little a&s;&s;i&s;teth thereby. DE. Mo&s;t willingly will I be in&s;tructed by you. VIR. Then a&s;&s;ure thy &s;elf that the <HI>Loue of God</HI> whome I perceaue thou art &s;o de&s;irous to finde, hath no more dan|gerous &amp; hurtful enemy the~ is thy owne body, Inure thou thy &s;elfe therefore daily to this cu|&s;tome that euery morning thou &s;ay to thy &s;oul. Let me &s;ee now &s;oule, how thou wilt this day hate thy body, which is &s;o great an enemy, to thy &s;weete Sauiour and Creator IESVS,
<PB N="68" REF="35">and how much thou wilt de&s;ire, that it may be de&s;pi&s;ed, afflicted, tormented, and &s;corned. At night likewayes &s;ay thus againe. Now &s;hewe me my &s;oule how this day, thou ha&s;t de&s;pi&s;ed, thy body &s;o rebellious again&s;t thy mo&s;t &s;weete Lord IESVS, &amp; how thou ha&s;t de&s;ired that it might be afflicted, and iniured of all men, and ha&s;t laboured that nothing be pardoned it, but ha&s;t carried thy &s;elf mo&s;t &s;euere again&s;t it. This doing deare Brother, and &s;till conuer&s;ing in the&s;e good thoughts, and euer per&s;euering in this thy de&s;ire, this only exerci&s;e in time will bring thee, to an exceeding perfection of perfit <HI>Humility,</HI> and will teach how to ouercome, and put to flight the mo&s;t dangerous enemy, and be trayer of thy &s;oule; and in conclu&s;ion thou &s;halt thereby attayne, to &s;o greate hatred of thy &s;elfe: that thou &s;halt wi&s;h &amp; labour to be con|temned and de&s;pi&s;ed. And when hereafter thou &s;halt happen to be contemned of &s;ome man; then &s;ticke fa&s;t to me, &amp; for&s;ake not my ver|tue. But with rejoycing and thankes giuing to God, &s;ay thus to thy &s;elfe. Now thankes be to God, who hath reuenged me of my enemie. <HI>De&s;ire</HI> being much contented with the directi|on of this Virgin, tooke leaue of her, and was brought into the Cell of an other daughter of <HI>Humility,</HI> who&s;e name was <HI>Simplicity,</HI> who re|ceauing him louingly, was asked by him her
<PB N="69" REF="35">name, vertue, and conditions. SIMP. My name is <HI>Simplicitie.</HI> My office and conditions is to behaue my &s;elfe &s;imply, &s;incerely, and plainely towardes all men: and to conceane no hurte or ill meaning of any thing, that I &s;hall happen to heare or to &s;ee: but to thinke all thinges to be done rightly and holylie, and to thinke ill of no body but my &s;elfe: For I euer &s;u&s;pect and feare my &s;elfe, and continually watch ouer my thoughts and de&s;ires, &s;till loo|king into my &s;elfe, and holding open the right eye of perfect wi&s;dome, whereby I may e|chewe and auoide all euell, and our Mother <HI>Humility,</HI> be made more &s;trong in her vertue. DE. What? is not <HI>Humilitie</HI> endued with all kinde of vertue, except thou hold, and keepe open thy eye. SIMP. No con&s;idering <HI>Sim|plicity</HI> without <HI>Wi&s;dome,</HI> is of no e&s;timation, but hurteth rather then helpeth. For the <HI>Loue of God</HI> loueth no man, but &s;uch as &s;hall came with true knowledge and <HI>Wi&s;dome.</HI></P>
</DIV2>
<DIV2 N="16" TYPE="chapter">
<HEAD><HI>CHAPTER. 16.</HI> Of the manners and conditions of Simplicitie.</HEAD>
<P>DESIRE. Now then I de&s;ire to be in|&s;tructed by you my Si&s;ter, how and in what manner you behaue your &s;elfe, &s;imply towardes all &s;ortes of people. SIMP. In three thinges, which are, in thought, worde, and deede. Fir&s;t I neuer v&s;e to thinke vpon tho&s;e
<PB N="70" REF="36">things: which are aboue my knowledge &amp; ca|pacity, neither de&s;ire I, th honors, e&s;timations, &amp; vanities of this world, but &s;til per&s;euer in this humble thought, that I am the mo&s;t abject of al the world, and vnworthie&s;t that liueth to be the &s;eruant of God: thinking all other holy &amp; ver|tuous, &amp; repleni&s;hed with al kindes of grace &amp; vertue. Secondly I re&s;olue to v&s;e no flattering, feyned, or deceiptful wordes, but a playne affir|mation or el&s;e a deniall, that is only, yea, yea: or no, no. For what&s;oeuer is more, proceedeth not of good, but from the roote &amp; grou~d of vanity. Thirdly I haue determined to bu&s;ie my &s;elfe, in no worldly, curious, or vayne workes, but in &s;uch only as are &s;imple, and yet nece&s;&s;ary, lea&s;t thereby I be drawne to vanity of &s;ingularity, &amp; thereby be expelled &amp; kept out from he~ce. For to doe an action &s;imply, bringeth <HI>Humility of hart,</HI> but otherwayes to doe is mo&s;t ful of perils. DE. As how. SIMP. Thou &s;halt vnder&s;tand <HI>De&s;ire,</HI> that our gouernes &amp; Lady Mother <HI>Hu|militie,</HI> hath &s;et me here, &amp; impo&s;ed this charge on me, to keepe &s;afely in this Mona&s;tery two rare Iewels which are remayning here, which are the one, <HI>Purity of hart,</HI> the other <HI>Innocency</HI> The valew whereof is of &s;o high e&s;teeme, that they cannot be pri&s;ed according to their wor|thines. For the obteyning whereof this mona|&s;ery, &amp; the other &s;eated in this de&s;ert: where at
<PB N="71" REF="36">the beginning fou~ded &amp; built. And what good &s;oeuer we doe, is referred to the getting &amp; kee|ping the&s;e Iewels. But if <HI>Curio&s;ity, Vanity,</HI> or <HI>Sin|gularitie</HI> &s;hould enter by the gate of our hart, our mouth, or el&s;e our action they would &s;teale &amp; carry away both the&s;e Iewels fro~ vs. And ther|fore if any of our Virgins &s;hall not imploy all their thoughts, words, &amp; workes to get &amp; pre|&s;erue the&s;e: we accompte them fooles, not vn|der&s;tading what they vndertake. DE. Why do you &s;o carefully pre&s;erue the&s;e Iewels con&s;ide|ring that by your profe&s;&s;ion you haue vowed pouerty? it is dangerous le&s;t you &s;hould offend in couetou&s;nes, keeping &s;uch vnnece&s;&s;ary and pretious iewels, co~&s;idering many poore people may &s;terue through want of them. SIM. Here|in thou art deceaued: For although in po&s;&s;e&s;|&s;ing, louing, or de&s;iring ritches or goods, a man may &s;in in couetou&s;nes, according to the inte~ti|on for which he &s;hal de&s;ire them: yet can there be no &s;in in po&s;&s;e&s;&s;ing the&s;e Iewels, in regarde that we de&s;ire, keepe, &amp; pre&s;erue them only for the <HI>Loue of God,</HI> therwith to honor &amp; &s;erue him, at &s;uch time as it &s;hal plea&s;e him to come hither among&s;t vs; or when we conuer&s;e with him in his holy hou&s;e. Ru&s;t and canker, con&s;ume and &s;poile other worldly Iewels: But the&s;e that are kept &amp; layde vp in our harts, no ru&s;t, no ca~ker, no corruption can con&s;ume. For no man can &s;e
<PB N="72" REF="37">them but he, which doth po&s;&s;e&s;&s;e them. DE. If he &s;hall lay them open, cannot ru&s;t then hurt them? SIMP. No: for if purpo&s;ely hee &s;new them, that others &s;hould &s;ee them, then doth not he po&s;&s;e&s;&s;e them any longer. For he that hath them doth not thinke, he hath them but laboureth &s;till that he may get them. And many times our Sauiour doth &s;o be&s;tow them, that he that hath, them doth not know he hath them. Which our mo&s;t louing Lord doth to this intent, that pre&s;umption and &s;elfe liking which lurke in mens harts, &s;hould not &s;ecretly &s;teale them and take them away. Therefore who&s;oeuer doth mo&s;t of all other po&s;&s;e&s;&s;e them: doth with al &s;ecrecy that he can conceale them, and hide them.</P>
</DIV2>
<DIV2 N="19" TYPE="chapter">
<HEAD><HI>CHAPTER 19.</HI> How Purity of hart, and Innocency may be pre&s;erued.</HEAD>
<P>DESIRE much delighted with this di&s;|cour&s;e of <HI>Simplicitie,</HI> &s;aid to her. DE. tell me by what meanes the&s;e pretious Iewels may be pre&s;erued. SIMP. There is one thing among&s;t others very nece&s;&s;ary, for nouices and young folkes, and the &s;ame not vnprofitable for tho&s;e that be of more yeares, which is to fly and to locke, and to keepe clo&s;e our gates from much company. For if a man will v&s;e the familiarity, and fellow&s;hippe of many, and take
<PB N="73" REF="37">delight to heare and to &s;ee many things, he &s;hal hardly be able to pre&s;erue the&s;e Iewels, for our mindes many wel be compared to a looking gla&s;&s;e, which repre&s;enteth the likene&s;&s;e of anie thing &s;et before it, or to wax which reteyneth the impre&s;sion of a zeale. DE. But how can one fly or &s;hut the dores that liueth continually in a Religious &s;ociety? for &s;uch a per&s;on hath occa&s;ion to goe into many places, and the Su|periour co~mandeth &s;ometimes one thing, &s;ome times an other, and &s;uch a party is enforced to talke, with many &amp; often commanded to con|uer&s;e with all &s;ortes of people. For other wayes he &s;hall be accompted &s;inguler, and &s;ingularity although it be couered with a &s;hew of holines and vertue: Yet is it hatefull, and ought to be e&s;chewed and &s;hunned. SIMP. It is true as thou &s;aye&s;t, we mu&s;t heare, &s;ee, and &s;ay manie thinges for obedience, which if we did of our owne accorde and de&s;ire, we &s;hould offende. But when obedience and charity doe moue vs there vnto (prouided we be not negligent but doe our be&s;t endeuours,) there is no doubt to be had for loo&s;ing the&s;e Iewels. DE. What mu&s;t we doe in doing our endeuours? SIMP. It is needful that who&s;oeuer would keepe the&s;e Iewels of <HI>Puritie &amp; Innocencie,</HI> &amp; either for obe|dience or nece&s;&s;ity cannot be &s;ecluded, nor liue in &s;olitary or vnfreque~ted places, it is nece&s;&s;ary
<PB N="74" REF="38">I &s;ay that he make me his companion, who tru|&s;ting to my fellow&s;hippe, (he trauaile all the world about) yet needeth not feare to loo&s;e the&s;e Iewels. DE. I de&s;ire you to explaine your meaning by &s;imilitudes, for &s;o, &s;uch as be but &s;imple &s;hal the better vnder&s;tand you. SIMP. It is requi&s;ite for a man, that will haue <HI>Puritte of hart and Innocencie,</HI> (which are the e&s;peciall manes to attayne to all vertues, and by which meanes to attayne to all vertues, and by which we may readily come to all perfection, perfect charity, and the chiefe marke which we &s;toote at, that is the <HI>Loue of God.</HI>) It is nece&s;&s;ary as I haue &s;aid to attayne to the&s;e vertues, to fly con|uer&s;ation, &amp; &s;hut the gates again&s;t co~pany. If he cannot do &s;o, then let him take me a co~panion, and in all thinges that he &s;hall heare or &s;ee, &s;till keepe me in his right eye. And when the left eye &s;hall &s;eeke to behold any thing, that may ta&s;t of couetou&s;nes, or of fooli&s;h, or of ra&s;h judgement, then let him behold the &s;ame with the right eye of <HI>Simplicitie,</HI> thinking &amp; per&s;wa|ding thus &s;imply with him&s;elf. That euery man and woman, brother &amp; &s;i&s;ter &amp;c. is the Angell and Sonne of Almighty God, &amp; that all other thinges are certayne in&s;truments or Organnes, which without intermi&s;&s;ion doe laude &amp; prai&s;e their Creator. And by the &s;ame rule what ill &s;o euer he &s;hal heare, or &s;e of his neighbour, let the right eye excu&s;e it, &amp; co~&s;ter it to the be&s;t. And
<PB N="75" REF="38">let him pray&s;e &amp; glorifie God, for all his crea|tures which the la&s;t eye of couetou&s;nes &s;hall al|lure him to de&s;ire, calling to minde the beauty, comlines &amp; goodnes of his Creator, and all o|ther his proprieties, &s;aying thus to him &s;elfe. I will not de&s;ire, or loue any thing created to any other end, but that in them, and with them I may loue and pray&s;e God, likewi&s;e in all his wordes and actions, it is very nece&s;&s;ary that he a&s;&s;ociate him&s;elf with me. DE. How &s;hall we &s;ay, all the actions of me~ are done in &s;implicity. SIMP. When their intention &s;hal be &s;imple, pure; and right, and all that they doe being of it &s;elfe good, &s;hall be al&s;o ju&s;t &amp; right, in all cir|cum&s;tances of time, place &amp; per&s;on, &amp; &s;hal not do any thing, but either for the honor &amp; pray&s;e of God, or for the good of the &s;oule, or body of him&s;elfe, or his neighbour, or els for the benefit of the whole co~mon wealth, he that doth thus, walketh &s;imply in al his actions. And who&s;oe|uer &s;hal choo&s;e &amp; keepe <HI>Simplicity</HI> for his co~pa|nion, he liueth &amp; walketh &s;ecurely &amp; happily.</P>
</DIV2>
<DIV2 N="20" TYPE="chapter">
<HEAD><HI>CHAPTER. 20.</HI> Of Pouertie.</HEAD>
<P><HI>DE&s;ire</HI> much plea&s;ed with this di&s;cour&s;e of <HI>Simplicitie,</HI> taking his leaue of her was brought to the Cell of an other of <HI>Humilities</HI> daughters, who&s;e name was <HI>Pouerty,</HI> of whome being louinglie entertayned, he &s;pake
<PB N="76" REF="39">to her as followeth. DE. I am not a little de|lighted with your fellow&s;hip &amp; acquaintance, a&s;&s;uring my &s;elfe, how dearely you are beloued of <HI>the Loue of God,</HI> &amp; therefore de&s;ire to know your conditions and cour&s;e of life. POV. I contemne &amp; refu&s;e for <HI>the Loue of God,</HI> to haue or po&s;&s;e&s;&s;e any worldly or tran&s;itory goods. DE. In what thing then, con&s;i&s;teth your joy and only comfort? POV. My only trea&s;ure and riches is for <HI>the Loue of God,</HI> to be poore, and po&s;&s;e&s;&s;e nothing. DE. I cannot but great|ly meruaile thereat, con&s;idering that as I haue heard of others, this Mona&s;tery was fir&s;t foun|ded and built by a Lord, that is the mo&s;t noble, rich, and bountifull of al the world. What then &s;hould be the rea&s;on, or his intention, that the inhabitantes of it, &s;hould be &s;o poore and nee|dy? neither vnder&s;tand I how your pouertie can be &s;o acceptable to him. POV. I will tell you. That Lord, which is founder &amp; buil|der of this Mona&s;tery, is King and Ma&s;ter of all the world, and hath, and keepeth his riches and trea&s;ures all in his owne handes. And yet notwith&s;tanding, it is his will and plea&s;ure, that we &s;hould liue in continuall pouerty, to the end we fixe not, or &s;ettle our loue and affection, on any other creature, but on him&s;elfe. He could if it &s;o plea&s;ed him, be&s;tow abundance on vs: but to his be&s;t beloued, he doth not; becau&s;e they
<PB N="77" REF="39">&s;hould loue him only, and hate this world, and the vanities thereof. And wee cannot aske a more manife&s;t token of his loue towardes vs, then that he &s;uffereth vs to bee in nece&s;sity in this mi&s;erable life, &amp; &s;endeth vs not tho&s;e plea|&s;ures, which fraile fle&s;h would couet. And yet farther, he will haue vs &s;pend our liues in po|uerty, lea&s;t temporall, and needles cares &s;hould ouercome our weake mindes; but will, that we &s;hould &s;erue him, with quiet co~tented thoughts and not be mooued, either with lo&s;&s;e, or gaine of worldly commodities, or too much rejoyce or lament, in pro&s;perity, or aduer&s;ity, with o|uer great mirth, or exceeding &s;orrow: but haue our harts &s;till vnited to him; in peace, and con|tentation? without any mi&s;like. For &s;uch is the di&s;po&s;ition of <HI>the Loue of God,</HI> that he will not inhabit but in &s;till and &s;eque&s;tred places. DE. What is the e&s;pecial vertue that is in you. POV To conforme and frame my &s;elfe according to my &s;i&s;ters, among&s;t whome I liue. And al|though I de&s;ire to po&s;&s;e&s;&s;e nothing: yet to keepe out and expell an enemy of ours, that &s;eeketh daily to enter among&s;t vs, and de&s;troy our garden, and eate vp our fruit, who&s;e name is <HI>Singularity:</HI> our Lady Mother will haue mee liue like my other &s;i&s;ters. And yet that I loo&s;e not the reward of my vertue &s;hee hath mar|ried me to a holy <HI>Purpo&s;e,</HI> who&s;e mame is, <HI>to
<PB N="78" REF="40">aske nothing.</HI> And farther, &s;he telleth me if I will attaine to perfection, that I mu&s;t re&s;t content with that which is giuen me, be it much, or litle; and accept as thankfully, of gro&s;&s;e and homely diet, as of that which &s;hall be prouided at the co&s;tlie&s;t price, and to leaue part of that which is alowed to me, and to be content for the <HI>Loue of God,</HI> to take &s;o much only, as nece&s;sity &s;hal de|&s;ire. DE. That is, as if one &s;hould de&s;ire to be better then good, or labour to doe more then he were bound to doe. For if I rightly vnder|&s;tand it, that Lord which hath founded and e|rected this Mona&s;tery, commaundeth you to haue the &s;pirit of pouerty, as the Prophet &s;aith. <HI>If thou abound in riches, beware thou &s;ettle not thy loue on them.</HI> Whereby I gather, that the vertue of pouerty, doth not con&s;i&s;t in hauing, or po&s;|&s;e&s;sing much, or little: but in the loue, or con|tempt we take in them. POV. I doe not de|ny, but that the &s;pirit of pouerty con&s;i&s;teth in the minde, yet notwith&s;tanding it is much &s;a|fer for the <HI>Loue of God,</HI> to po&s;&s;e&s;&s;e nothing: con&s;idering our loue and affection to rich and beautifull thinges, is &s;o fraile and prone, that hardly can wee haue them, without fixing our loue on them. Lea&s;t therefore &s;uch worldlie riches &s;houlde gayne &s;ome parte of our loue from <HI>the Loue of God</HI> which is already but &s;mal towards him, it is good (as the &s;aying is) to re|moue
<PB N="79" REF="40">the &s;trawe farther from the fier. For the <HI>Loue of God,</HI> doth chalenge of duety all the loue of man wholy to him &s;elfe, and manie there bee that herein flatter them&s;elues, &s;ay|ing, I doe not immoderatelie loue this or that thing, neither would I to much &s;orrow if it where taken from me. But beleeue mee affe|ction, and loue is &s;o &s;ubtle a thing, that hardly are men founde not louing what they po&s;&s;e&s;&s;e. Neither can we haue a better example hereof then our SAVIOVR CHRIST him|&s;elfe, who when he could haue po&s;&s;e&s;&s;ed the whole ritches of the world, without feare to loue or affect them extraordinarily: yet re|member how needely, and poorely not him|&s;elfe liued, but al&s;o his Ble&s;&s;ed Mother and his Holy APOSTLES. Which, howe can we anie other wayes conceaue: but that we mu&s;t neither affect, or po&s;&s;e&s;&s;e any world|ly ritches: For which cau&s;e I haue clearely for&s;aken all &s;uch vnnece&s;&s;ary thinges, as I v|&s;ed to haue with me in my Cell reteyning no|thing el&s;, but the Image of my &s;weete SA|VIOVR hanging naked on the &cross; Cro&s;&s;e, thereby to remember his great loue to mee. I once v&s;ed to keepe many books with mee, but nowe po&s;&s;e&s;&s;e only a Bible, the life of SAINCTES, and the life of my SAVI|OVR IESVS, with &s;ome fewe other for
<PB N="80" REF="41">my deuotions. And re&s;t fully contented to meditate on &s;weete Ie&s;us, and to bu&s;ie my &s;elfe with the booke of his holy life.</P>
</DIV2>
<DIV2 N="21" TYPE="chapter">
<HEAD><HI>CHAPTER. 21.</HI> Of Obedience.</HEAD>
<P><HI>DE&s;ire</HI> receauing no le&s;&s;e contentment from this Virgin, tooke leaue of her, and weas brought to the Cel of an other daughter of <HI>Hu+mility,</HI> called <HI>Obedience.</HI> To her <HI>De&s;ire</HI> yealded very great reuerence, in that &s;he &s;eemed to him to be of high dignity, and authority, &amp; of great e&s;timation with <HI>the Loue of God,</HI> and more be|loued of him, then her other &s;i&s;ters. Now <HI>De|&s;ire</HI> for reuerence &s;ake, offering to ki&s;&s;e her hand, was denyed of her, in regard that being the daughter of <HI>Humility,</HI> &s;he would not al|lowe either reuerence or honour, to be &s;hewed to her, but willing <HI>De&s;ire</HI> to &s;itte downe by her, he asked of her, her orders and conditions. OBED. I am married to a holy <HI>Purpo&s;e,</HI> cal|led, <HI>to omitte nothing I ought to doe.</HI> Hee is a mighty, &s;trong, and worthy Knight, who alone is able to &s;ubdue &amp; put to flight, the mo&s;t dan|gerous bea&s;t in all the world, called <HI>Selfe Will.</HI> Which bea&s;t doth de&s;troy, kill, and &s;wallowe vp: all that loue and obey her; and &s;hee doth with a kinde of flattering allurement, enti&s;e and drawe to her al ob&s;tinate people, of which, few for&s;ake her, vntill &s;he drawe them into hell, &amp;
<PB N="81" REF="41">vtter damnation. The greate&s;t part of people, and almo&s;t all for&s;ake me, notwith&s;tanding it is mo&s;t certaine, that without me, no man can finde the <HI>Loue of God,</HI> who is a Lord of &s;o great dignity, and excellency, that the whole world canot be compared with him. And in regard it hath plea&s;ed almighty God: to be&s;tow &s;o good and noble a husband on me, I do not any thing but what he &s;hall command me. Neither doe I de&s;ire to be ea&s;ed, or remitted, from that is com|manded me, except &s;ome vrgent nece&s;sity con|&s;traine me thereunto. And in regard of theeues and robbes, which lie &s;o &s;ecretly among&s;t vs, that hardly they can be di&s;cried, or di&s;couered by vs, I neuer dare to walke alone. DE. What companion doe you v&s;e? OBED. Fir&s;t I take with me my dogge for a companion, called as yours is, <HI>Good will.</HI> Next I joyne to me my &s;i&s;ter <HI>Simplicity,</HI> and my daughters <HI>Douotion, Chearefulne&s;&s;e, Diligence, per&s;euerance,</HI> and <HI>Pu|rity.</HI> But chiefely our Lady Mother <HI>Humility,</HI> doth alwaies a&s;&s;otiate her &s;elfe with mee. All the&s;e of nece&s;sitie mu&s;t I haue with me, if I will &s;ecurely walke to doe that, which I am commanded. DE. Tell mee I be&s;eech you, How doth your Mother <HI>HUmility</HI> joyne her &s;elfe with you for that as yet I doe not vnder|&s;tand? OBED. In any thing that I vnder|take and doe, be it neuer &s;o great, I doe not
<PB N="82" REF="42">flatter my &s;elfe that I haue done it well, neither haue I any confidence in that I doe, or by do|ing any thing well, growe into pride of minde. Neither per&s;wade I my &s;elfe, that others could not doe it be&s;ides my &s;elfe, or that they could not doe it &s;o well as my &s;elfe, neither thinke I my &s;elfe good, if I doe any thing that is good, or woulde be pray&s;ed for doing it, or thought by others apt and fitte to doe it; but with all humility I giue the thankes to God, in that it hath plea&s;ed him, to be&s;towe vnder&s;tanding, wi&s;edome, and ability on me: for the loue of him to doe &s;o good a thing. And I &s;ay to my &s;elfe, in regard it hath plea&s;ed God to be&s;towe his grace on me, to execute &s;uch a worke, for this thing e&s;pecially I holde my &s;elfe bound to him. And therefore de&s;ire I nothing el&s;e of o|thers, but that they will honor and prai&s;e God. And that vntill the la&s;t day of my life, nothing but labour and paine be allotted to me, all ho|nour, and prai&s;e be to Almighty God, and be|nefitte, and all good vnto my neighbour. No|thing in this worlde as I&s;ay, I wi&s;h to my &s;elfe: being a&s;&s;ured, I de&s;erue nothing that is good of my &s;elfe, neither de&s;ire I any thing el&s;e, but that it woulde plea&s;e our Lorde to be&s;towe his loue on me, that thereby I may daiely encrea&s;e in vertue, and good life, and neuer offend him, but that in the la&s;t houre of my death, it will
<PB N="83" REF="42">plea&s;e him (as I hope) to &s;hewe him&s;elfe lo|uing and mercifull to me.</P>
</DIV2>
<DIV2 N="22" TYPE="chapter">
<HEAD><HI>CHAPTER. 22.</HI> Of Cha&s;titie.</HEAD>
<P><HI>DE&s;ire</HI> taking great comfort in this confe|rence with <HI>Obedience,</HI> leauing her, vvas brought to the Cell of the la&s;t daughter of <HI>Humility,</HI> who&s;e name was <HI>Cha&s;tity.</HI> Of whome as before de&s;ire demanded her conditions. CHAST. I am as thou knowe&s;t the daugh|ter of <HI>Humility of hart,</HI> and haue attending on me two Virgins or handmardes the one called <HI>Ab&s;tmence,</HI> the other <HI>Ba&s;hfulnes.</HI> My &s;pou&s;e or husband is called <HI>Watch of hart,</HI> who is alwayes attended with a body, called <HI>Watch of &s;ences.</HI> DE. I be&s;eech you bring mee to the &s;ight of this Boy. CHAST. I will doe that willingly. <HI>De&s;ire</HI> now much meruailed at the furniture of this Boy, for in his hand he held a bridle and a &s;tone, a kerchiefe or a vaile, and a chayne with a locke, to whome hee thus &s;pake, I de&s;ire thee my Sonne to declare to mee the true &s;ignification of this furniture of thine. BOY. This bridle is to re&s;trayne a naughty bea&s;t of my Ma&s;ters, vvhich al|though &s;he be little, yet when &s;hee breaketh lo&s;e &s;hee ouerthroweth all men, neither can
<PB N="84" REF="43">any man rule her but our Porter the <HI>Feare of God.</HI> DE. What is the name of this naugh|ty bea&s;t? BOY. <HI>The Tongue.</HI> DE. What doe&s;t thou with this &s;tone? BOY. I &s;toppe holes with it, which are in this hou&s;e, called the <HI>Eares,</HI> lea&s;t theeues enter thereat, as often they doe, when it chaunceth that they be not &s;top|ped; and &s;ometimes al&s;o, I put it in my mouth, that thereby I may enjoyne my &s;elfe to &s;ilence. De. By that meanes, others will &s;ay thou art dumbe. BOY. I am not dumbe, but for the <HI>Loue of God,</HI> I make my &s;elfe dumbe. DE. What &s;eruice can&s;t thou &s;hewe to him there|by? BOY. Much. Con&s;idering that by this dore tho&s;e two jewelles are lo&s;t, which <HI>Simpli|city</HI> &s;pake of, I meane <HI>Innocencie</HI> and <HI>Purity of hart,</HI> and &s;o long as I continue dumbe, I pro|vide, that the wine which our Virgins v&s;e, runne not out, or be &s;hedde. DE. What? Coulde&s;t thou not looke to that, if thou &s;houl|de&s;t &s;peake: BOY. No. For the &s;pygotte cannot be pulled out, but the wine will bee &s;hedde. DE. Might not a ve&s;&s;ell be &s;ette vn|der, to &s;aue the wine that runneth out? BOY. There might, but great wi&s;edome, vnder|&s;tanding, and fortitude, is to be v&s;ed. And I am yet but little and young, neither can ea&s;ely performe that office, and &s;o &s;oone, al the wine might runne out of the ve&s;&s;ell, and nothing
<PB N="85" REF="43">but winde remaine in it. DE. What &s;ignifieth this kerchiefe, or vaile? BOY. It is called <HI>Pu|rity,</HI> and it &s;erueth to couer the left eye, which cau&s;eth &s;en&s;uality. DE. Do you couer the right eye al&s;o? BOY. No. for that is the eye of <HI>Sim|plicity,</HI> which not only doth hurt, but al&s;o brin|geth forth all good, and fruitfull things. But the left, is the eye of <HI>Sen&s;uality,</HI> which is of a more &s;harp &s;ight, then the left, and annoyeth vs with many di&s;co~modities: &amp; finally, bringeth death it &s;elfe: wherfore it is of nece&s;sity, that it be co|uered with this vaile, that thereby we may per|ceaue al things with purity. DE. Deliueer it more plainely, how we may &s;e al things more purely and clearely. BOY. All things are &s;eene with a pure hart: when they are beheld with one of the&s;e three eyes. Either with the eye of taking good edification for our &s;elues, or with the eye of honoring &amp; glorifying God, or with the eye of excu&s;ing &amp; pitying our neighbor DE. This yet is ob&s;cure, declare your meaning more plain+ly. BOY. I know thou do&s;t vnder&s;tand me &s;uf|ficiently. DE. Although my &s;elfe vnder&s;tand it, yet peraduenture others would expect to be in &s;tructed more plainly. Boy. I alowe this wil &amp; de&s;ire to profit others, to be both vertuous, and worthy prai&s;e: con&s;idering it is a &s;igne of no &s;mall vertue &amp; charity, both to &s;eeke our owne good &amp; benefit: &amp; al&s;o that which may be the
<PB N="86" REF="44">good of all men. And thou ha&s;t heard manie thinges &s;poken in parables among&s;t vs, the ex|po&s;ition whereof, is both profound &amp; fruitfull: therfore when thou &s;halt returne hither againe, thou mai&s;t make a certaine co~mentary of &s;uch thinges as thou ha&s;t heard, and &s;eene: whereby thou mai&s;t draw them out more at large and (as S. <HI>Greg.</HI> did vpon holy <HI>Iob</HI>) explaine them more copiou&s;ly. DE. You &s;ay well, &amp; doubt not but (God a&s;&s;i&s;ting me) I wil performe as much. For notwith&s;ta~ding to the learned, the&s;e &s;imilitudes may &s;erue, without farther explanation: yet to the &s;imple &s;ort, it will bee nece&s;&s;ary to haue a more plaine expo&s;ition. And it will be a verie great encouragement to me, to vndertake it: if I be adui&s;ed to it by your councel. But now pro+ceed to tel the meaning of your furniture. Why doe you carry this chaine with a locke? BOY. It is called <HI>Te~perance of the mouth,</HI> wherewith we locke the gates of this hou&s;e, lea&s;t the Virgins that dwell here, might wander abroade. For if we had not this chaine &amp; this locke, ther would be no religion among&s;t vs, but all things would be vaine. And this know for certaine, &s;o long as I keep my left eye couered, although my eyes be open, yet I &s;ee nothing. DE. How can that be, that your eyes being open yet you &s;hall not &s;ee? BOY. Becau&s;e my eyes are fixed in my head, and although &s;ometime I looke downe to
<PB N="87" REF="44">the earth: yet the reflection of my eyes retur|neth to my head.</P>
</DIV2>
<DIV2 N="23" TYPE="chapter">
<HEAD><HI>CHAPTER. 23.</HI> The Conclu&s;ion of the fir&s;t part.</HEAD>
<P><HI>DE&s;ire</HI> hauing di&s;cour&s;ed after this manner with <HI>Cha&s;tity,</HI> departed fro~ her with great contentment. And being guided out of this Mo+na&s;tery by the forenamed Steward, who tolde him he had now &s;eene al the virgins of this Mo+na&s;tery, he asked if there were no other thing to bee &s;eene. ST. If thou &s;halt well ob&s;erue what thou ha&s;t here heard, and &s;eene, and &s;halt with thy be&s;t endeuour &s;eeke to put them in ex+ecution, thou art &s;ufficiently furni&s;hed to finde out the <HI>Loue of God.</HI> But yet before thou de|part hence, I will &s;hew thee a tree, that groweth in our garde~. <HI>De&s;ire</HI> beholding this goodly tree, beganne much to admire it, and the rather, be|cau&s;e it carried two &s;orts of fruit, and &s;aid to the <HI>Steward.</HI> DE. What kinde of fruit is this? ST. The fruit that groweth on the lower boughes, which are pale, and of diuers colours, is called <HI>Di&s;tru&s;t of our &s;elues.</HI> But that which groweth on the toppe of the tree, and is of a plea&s;ant red colour, is called <HI>Tru&s;t in God,</HI> with which fruit all that come hither are to be fedde. For except they &s;hall feede vpon this fruit their labour is in vaine, and to no ende come they hither. DE. Wil it plea&s;e you to be&s;towe part thereof
<PB N="88" REF="45">on me, that I may eate thereof in my journey, I am to take. STEW. I will eate thereof, of the fruit of the lower boughes which is, <HI>Di&s;trust of thy &s;elfe,</HI> as much as &s;hall be nece&s;&s;ary: and fill all thy pockets with the fruit of the higher boughes, that thou mai&s;t eate therof in thy jour|ney &amp; this wil &s;erue thee, vntil thou come to the hou&s;e of the <HI>Loue of God.</HI> Now <HI>De&s;ire</HI> &s;uffi|ciently &s;atisfied, with the fruit of the lowe boughes, filled his pockets and bo&s;ome with the fruit of the higher boughes, and &s;aid. DE. I be&s;eech you Si&s;ter, now &s;hew to me the &s;pee|die&s;t and mo&s;t ready way to the hou&s;e of the <HI>Loue of God.</HI> STEW. I rejoyce to &s;e thee &s;o furni&s;hed, and de&s;irous to vndertake the jour|ney to finde the <HI>Loue of God.</HI> Yet not with|&s;ta~ding, I feare if thou trauaile alone, thou wilt hardly finde out the readie&s;t way, therefore wil I giue thee tru&s;ty companions of our &s;ociety who &s;hall doe, and guide thee the right way thou art to take. DE. Is not <HI>Good wil</HI> my dogge &s;ufficient for that? STEW. No truely. For although he be very good, yet is not he &s;uffi|cient for &s;uch a journey, wherein are encoun|tred, not only many dangerous wilde bea&s;ts, hollowe pittes, rough wayes, bu&s;hes &amp; bryers: but theeues, &s;poylers, and robbers, and &s;uch as &s;eeke to kill and de&s;troy all pa&s;&s;engers, where|fore it is wi&s;dome not to tru&s;t, to thy dogge
<PB N="89" REF="45">alone DE. For the&s;e alleaged rea&s;ons I pray you, appoint me &s;uch co~panions as you thinke nece&s;&s;ary. STEW. Then take in thy com|pany our Porter, the <HI>Feare of our Lord,</HI> who is a worthy and excellent man, who&s;e company if thou wilt not forgoe, take likewi&s;e with thee his daughter <HI>Ba&s;hfulnes,</HI> whome to be &s;ure to keepe, take an herbe with thee, called <HI>Humble ca&s;ting downe of thy eyes.</HI> And yet farther take with thee an other companion, called <HI>Simplici|tie.</HI> And now <HI>De&s;ire,</HI> goe on thy way being garded with Gods ble&s;&s;ing. But yet marke well this one le&s;&s;on, although thou chaunce to loo&s;e the <HI>Feare of God,</HI> or <HI>Simplicitie;</HI> Yet be &s;ure to keepe warely thy dogge about thee, for he will &s;erue to finde them againe. And &s;ee that thou giue him of the fruit in thy pocket, to eate of. And when thou art gone hence, keepe the way which leadeth on the left hand, where thou &s;halt finde a path, which is a nearer way, then others, which will bring the directly to the hou&s;e of <HI>Charitie,</HI> wherein dwelleth the <HI>Loue of God.</HI> DE. What is the name of that path, that if I happe to mi&s;&s;e my way, I may aske it of other. STEW. It is called <HI>Patience,</HI> which is the ready and neare&s;t way to the hou&s;e of <HI>Humilitie</HI> and <HI>Charitie.</HI> &dagger;.</P>
</DIV2>
</DIV1>
<DIV1 N="2" TYPE="part">
<PB N="90" REF="46">
<HEAD>THE SECOND PART.</HEAD>
<DIV2 N="1" TYPE="chapter">
<HEAD><HI>CHAPTER. 1.</HI> Of Patience.</HEAD>
<P>_DESIRE being now well re|fre&s;hed with the aboue named fruites, and accompanied with <HI>Good will</HI> his dogge, and the <HI>Feare of God</HI> the Porter on the one &s;ide, and with <HI>Simplicity</HI> on the other &s;ide, &amp; hauing al&s;o his pockets filled with the fruit of <HI>Confidence in God,</HI> departed chearefull out of the hou&s;e of <HI>Humility</HI> &amp; wil|lingly vndertoke the way of <HI>Patience.</HI> Which although he were told to be &s;hort &amp; plea&s;ant: Yet found he it rough, had and vnplea&s;ant by rea&s;on of many brables &amp; bu&s;hes, which made him co~plaine, &amp; &s;ay to <HI>Simplicitie.</HI> DE. O good God how hard, and difficult a way is this, con|trary to that I thought it to be. SIMP. Let not that &s;eeme &s;trange, to thee <HI>De&s;ire</HI> for there|fore is it called the way of <HI>Patience,</HI> which if it were not &s;harpe &amp; full of difficulties, it &s;hould not be calloed, and knowne by that name, nei|ther &s;hould the hou&s;e to which it leadeth be held in &s;o great e&s;teeme: if the way were playne and ea&s;ie, and pa&s;&s;ible for all people. But as it
<PB N="91" REF="46">is, none pa&s;&s;e it but tho&s;e that be throughly exerci&s;ed. And ha&s;t thou not heard the old pro+uerbe. That no good thing can be obteyned without labour and paine; or plea&s;ant, but fir&s;t by ta&s;ting the &s;ower? wherefore hauing now vndertaken and entred the way: thou mu&s;t of nece&s;&s;ity endure the hardnes, comforted with this, that it will not long continue. For who&s;o|euer will &s;eeke to take the fi&s;h, mu&s;t be con|tented to wette his foote. And colde&s;t thou imagine, that a thing &s;o pretious as the <HI>Loue of God,</HI> cold be obteyned without labour and payne. Remember the &s;aying of <HI>Seneca</HI> the Philo&s;opher. <HI>A thing of worth cannot be bought for a trifle. For with great labours wee atchiue great matters.</HI> And thou art deceaued, <HI>De&s;ire</HI> if thou thinke to get &s;o rich a trea&s;ure with no labour, neither would&s;t thou make any great accompt, of the <HI>Loue of God,</HI> if thou colde&s;t finde him without any trauaile. Goe to there|fore coragiou&s;ly and feare not labour, con|&s;idering that after it, thou &s;halt re&s;t and bee comforted vvith the <HI>Loue of God,,</HI> and thou wilt e&s;teeme the greatlier of him, and loue him better; for the more payne thou endure&s;t in finding him out: the greater will be thy joy and contentement after. And if thou fortune to be weary in the way, eate of the fruit which thou ha&s;t, called <HI>Confidence of God;</HI> and thou
<PB N="92" REF="47">&s;halt finde thy &s;elfe to be &s;trengthned againe. But if thou wilt not feele the wearie&s;omes of thy journey, do as trauailers do, that pa&s;&s;e ouer the paine with &s;inging as they goe. <HI>De&s;ire</HI> &s;ome what co~forted with this direction of <HI>Simplicitie</HI> &s;aid. DE. How can we &s;ing, being accompa|ned with this reuerend and graue old Father. SIMP. It is his cu&s;tome to &s;hewe him&s;elfe graue in ge&s;ture and apparell: but otherwi&s;e he is &s;ociable and plea&s;ant in conuer&s;ation, for he is the brother of the <HI>Loue of God,</HI> &amp; &s;ingeth &s;weetly, e&s;pecially when he heareth vs &s;ing, not for wantonnes and leuity, but to cheare vp our &s;pirits, and comfort our &s;elues, being weary in our journey. DE. How &s;hall I &s;ing that haue no voyce. SIMP. Thou can&s;t not lacke voyce, that art a voyce thy &s;elfe. <HI>De&s;ire</HI> mer|uailed to heare her &s;ay, he was a voyce and an&s;|wered. DE. How can you &s;ay that I am a voyce? SIMP. Thou, as all other creatures wa&s;t created by Gods word, &amp; it is plaine that a voyce doth follow a word, con&s;idering there|fore that &s;o &s;one as God had &s;poke the word, pre&s;ently all creatures were made: it followeth that all creatures are voyces. DE. Explayne this yet more plainely. SIMP. Speech and the word are but one thing. For &s;peech is not that which is deliuered with the mouth: but which being conceaued in the minde, is retey|ned
<PB N="93" REF="47">within. But that which is expre&s;&s;ed with the mouth, is a voyce, declaring the &s;peech or word, conceaued in the hart. As for example if I conceaue &s;uch a thought in my minde, that thou art a man, this is a word or &s;peech, and al|though I vtter it not, yet I hold it within mee. But if I &s;hall expre&s;&s;e it with my mouth, &amp; &s;ay thou art a man, this is a voyce, explayning the &s;ecret conceyte of my minde. De. If I be a voyce, who&s;e voyce am I. SIMP. Thou art the voice of God, by whome thou wa&s;t created to this pray&s;e, honor &amp; glory. DE. What thing then do I &s;peake of my &s;elfe, if I be a voyce? SIMP. Thou &s;aye&s;t God is good, by the goodnes of that e&s;&s;ence, which thou ha&s;t of God, euen &s;o by thy owne beauty, thou giue&s;t a witne&s;&s;e that he is beautifull, through who&s;e beauty thou ha&s;t attayned to &s;uch goodnes and beauty, to conclude, what&s;oeuer God hath cre|ated in thee, it is but a certayne voyce explay|ning the vertue &amp; goodnes of him. De. How can you &s;ay that, what&s;oeuer is in me created by God is a voyce: &amp; not ab&s;olutely what&s;oe|uer is in me is a voyce. SIMP. Thus, this &s;ins and wickednes which God hath not made, are not his voyces, but thy owne, which &s;peake and declare that thou art filthy, nought, impure, and wicked. For as by the creatures of God we are ledde and brought to the knowledge of
<PB N="94" REF="48">him: &s;o by tho&s;e things which we do our &s;elues, we may attaine to the knowledge of our &s;elues.</P>
</DIV2>
<DIV2 N="2" TYPE="chapter">
<HEAD><HI>CHAPTER 2.</HI> How God may be knowne by his creatures.</HEAD>
<P><HI>DE&s;ire</HI> noted this di&s;cour&s;e of <HI>Simplicity,</HI> not without great admiration, who although &s;he &s;eemed in &s;hew but &s;imple: yet found he her mo&s;t wi&s;e in the&s;e high and &s;ecret mi&s;teries, and &s;aid to her. DE. To what end wold you haue vs to &s;ing. SIMP. To the end we may forgett the difficulties, and &s;orrowes of this mi&s;erable ba|ni&s;hment we liue in: and loo&s;e not our hope to come to the hou&s;e of Gods <HI>Charitie.</HI> Wherevn|to to attayne, we &s;hall finde no &s;mall helpe in meditating vpon Gods creatures, which pur|po&s;ely I haue placed in this journey of <HI>Patie~ce,</HI> that thou maie&s;t the &s;oner come to the <HI>Loue of God,</HI> if thou &s;halt be co~uer&s;ant in this booke of his creatures. For by <HI>Patience</HI> we conceaue a greater hope of the diuine &s;cripture which is the whole world, which is no other thing then the booke of God. DE. Con&s;idering then that we mu&s;t &s;ing, let vs do that for which cau&s;e we are made voices, that is let vs pray&s;e God. SIM. I am well contented, for &s;o many voyces will joine with vs in &s;inging. Sometime de&s;fca~t &s;ome time the Tenor, &s;ometime the treble wil meete vs, &amp; in the beginning the Ba&s;&s;e, in the midde&s;t the Tenor &amp; de&s;cant, in the end the Treble, &amp; all &s;ortes of voyces, according to the multitute
<PB N="95" REF="48">and variety of creatures, farther it is nece&s;&s;ary (if we will doe according to the pre&s;cript of mu|&s;icke) that we endeuoure to bee skilfull in our &s;ong, for con&s;idering we haue voyces, we mu&s;t learne &amp; vnder&s;tand the knowledge of &s;inging DE. Who &s;hal teach vs that? SIM. Our owne voyces. For &s;ome creatures &s;hall declare his power and highnes, others his goodnes, others his wi&s;dome, others his ge~tlenes, others his be|auty, others his &s;weetnes, others his greatnes, o|thers his iu&s;tice, &amp; others his liberality: &amp; to this end God hath be&s;towed on vs a kind of know|ledge of him &s;elfe, according to euery mans ca|pacity and nature, that thereby we may &s;ing &amp; deliuer his pray&s;e. For which cau&s;e I entreate thee, endeuour in this thy journey to become as expert in &s;inging as thou ca~&s;t, &amp; the rather be|cau&s;e in the hou&s;e of the <HI>Loue of God,</HI> to which thou doe&s;t trauaile, there is nothing but &s;inging whither when thou &s;halt come, I would haue thee &s;ufficie~tly in&s;tructed in this arte. For who|&s;oeuer &s;hall haue a good voyce in this jorney, &amp; &s;hall often exerci&s;e it, it is thereby &s;o amended, that it ca~not change. And as euery ma~ through daily exerci&s;e &s;hall learne to &s;ing in this life, &s;o &s;hall he bee there more excellent then others. DE. Teach me I pray you, how I mu&s;t &s;ing by Gods creatures; for of my &s;elfe I &s;hall not ea&s;e|ly learne it. SIMP. I will willingly do it. Now meane time <HI>De&s;ire</HI> hauing trauailed far through
<PB N="96" REF="49">the de&s;ert: learned and proued many vertues and excellencies of our Lord and Sauiour IE|SVS Chri&s;t and the better, by the ayde, a&s;&s;i|&s;tance, and direction of his guide <HI>Simplicitie.</HI> Yet was he to pa&s;&s;e many great, dangerous, and hard labours: ofte did he &s;tumble, but <HI>Simplici|ty</HI> &s;upported him, that he could not fall. Not|with&s;tanding &s;ometimes he fell, but pre&s;ently <HI>Simplicity</HI> gaue him her hand. Sometimes he fell &s;o dangerou&s;ly, that except he had beene lifted vp againe by the helpe of the <HI>Feare of God</HI> hee neuer woulde, or coulde haue ro&s;e againe. Sometimes when he &s;hould goe forwarde, he retyred backe, and when he &s;hould haue recea|ued benefit by Gods creatures, he became much wor&s;e. For he was not &s;ufficient careful to try out the &s;ecret vertues of voyces, neither did he greatly regard his &s;ong, but &s;uffered him &s;elfe to growe hoar&s;e, vntill being pricked and put forward with the <HI>Feare of God,</HI> he laboured to goe forward. Oft times did thornes and bu|&s;hes run into his feete, but <HI>Simplicitie</HI> held him vp, and the <HI>Feare of God</HI> plucked them out a|gaine. Sometime was he mch oppre&s;&s;ed with &s;leepe, but the <HI>Feare of God</HI> awaked him a|gaine. Oft times being weary, he &s;ate downe to re&s;t him, but <HI>Good Will</HI> his dogge neuer left barking, vntill he aro&s;e againe. Sometime we he &s;o weary, that through incon&s;tancie of mind
<PB N="97" REF="49">he determined to goe backe: but pre&s;ently ea|ting of the fruite in his pocket, he recouered &s;trength and kept on his way. Sometimes as he trauailed in the darknes of the night: hee lo&s;t both the <HI>Feare of God</HI> and <HI>Simplicity,</HI> &s;o that he wandered out of the right way, of his journey: but &s;o &s;one as the &s;unne beganne to &s;hine by the help of his dogge, he found his way againe. Now after they had trauailed thus many dayes, they came to a plea&s;ant &amp; delightful meadow, in the midde&s;t whereof was &s;eated a princely Palace, called the hou&s;e of <HI>Charitie,</HI> the Por|ter whereof was the <HI>Loue of God.</HI></P>
</DIV2>
</DIV1>
<DIV1 N="3" TYPE="part">
<HEAD>THE THIRD PART.</HEAD>
<DIV2 N="1" TYPE="chapter">
<HEAD><HI>CHAPTER. 1.</HI> Of the probation and exerci&s;e of the <HI>Loue of God.</HI></HEAD>
<P>_WHen <HI>De&s;ire</HI> had beheld this goodly Palace, he rejoyced much, that his long weary|&s;ome and painefull journey, was come at la&s;t to &s;o joyfull an end. Wherefore comming to the gates, and finding them locked: he be|ganne to call and knocke thereat. But not with|&s;tanding
<PB N="98" REF="50">&s;ta~ding his calling &amp; knocking, no man appea|red that would giue him an an&s;were. The~ &s;pake <HI>Simplicity.</HI> And told him it were requi&s;ite that he cryed lowder, for by that meanes he &s;hould be hard, although they with in were a &s;leepe or el&s;e deafe, &amp; bidde him take the two hammers: that hong at the gate, &amp; pre&s;ently &s;ome would come, &amp; open it for him. The&s;e two hammers were called, the one <HI>To &s;igh.</HI> The other <HI>To cry.</HI></P>
<P>Therefore &s;he bid him, knocke &amp; cry a lowde for the&s;e dores, &s;hould not be here if they were not to be opened, &amp; therefore are the&s;e hamers hanged at them, that &s;uch a &s;hal knocke may be admitted in. Thus co~tinued <HI>De&s;ire,</HI> &s;til crying &amp; knocking long, before the <HI>Loue of God</HI> would o|pe~ the gate, neither did <HI>De&s;ire</HI> as yet know him, To whome the <HI>Loue of God</HI> at length &s;pake as foloweth. What &s;eek you here brother, or what lack you to knocke &amp; call thus? peraduenture you are weary with your long expectation. But it is our cu&s;tome and manner to feigne our &s;elfs deafe, therby to try their patie~ce that come hither. And it chaunceth often, that when we &s;o any wax weary &amp; per&s;wade the~&s;elues that the gate mu&s;t be opened to them, &s;o &s;one as they come: we &s;uffer them to depart euen as they came, for none are admitted to enter hither that &s;hall thinke them&s;elues worthily to de&s;erue the place, &amp; that we ought to receitie them of right
<PB N="99" REF="50">and duety. Therefore tell me, art thou one of tho&s;e? De. No Sir, I am not. For notwith&s;tan|ding I haue pa&s;&s;ed &amp; ouercome many labours, yet am I &s;ure, that I haue no way de&s;erued to be admitted in here: but altogither vnworthy, ex|cept it &s;hall plea&s;e you to receaue me vpo~ your owne goodnes &amp; mercy. LOVE. &amp;c. What is the cau&s;e thou de&s;ire&s;t to be admitted? or what &s;eeke&s;t thou to find here within this hou&s;e. DE. I am come &s;ir hither from the hou&s;e of <HI>Humility</HI> accompaned with the&s;e graue &amp; hone&s;t com|panions, &amp; haue pa&s;&s;ed my jorney by the path of <HI>Patie~ce</HI> Only to &s;eeke the <HI>Loue of God,</HI> who as it is told me dwelleth here within. LOV. &amp;c. Doe&s;t thou bring me no token whereby I may knowe that thou comme&s;t from the hou&s;e of <HI>Humility.</HI> DE. I bring two tokens. The one wherof was giuen me in the hou&s;e of <HI>Humility,</HI> and it is called, <HI>Knowledge of my &s;elfe.</HI> The other haue I got my &s;elfe in my journey, and that is called <HI>Knowledge of God.</HI> LOVE. &amp;c. I am very well plea&s;ed to &s;e thee &s;o prouided, but yet tell mee this one thing, doe&s;t thou per&s;wade thy &s;elfe, that by rea&s;on of the&s;e two knowledges we ought of duety to receaue, and admit thee. DE. Be it farre fro~ me to haue &s;uch a thought. I de&s;ire to be receaued only through your grace and mercy. For I am not &s;ure whither both the&s;e knowledges, wherwith I am in&s;tructed be
<PB N="100" REF="51">trulie written or no. This I know for certaine, that I continued &s;ometime in the hou&s;e of <HI>Hu|mility,</HI> and there I learned and knewe the hou&s;e, the Virgins, and their conditions, they them|&s;elues telling me. But whether I haue well di|ge&s;ted the fruit I eate there, or whether they a|gree well with my &s;tomacke, although they be &s;weete in ta&s;te, I confe&s;&s;e I knowe not, Nei|ther am I &s;ure whether I reaped any benefit by my journey. For often did I fall, the bu&s;hes and brambles oft pricked me, and in a manner I was drawne hither by force of my co~panions. Ther+fore Sir, there is none of the&s;e thinges that I bring with me, that I can tell you any certaine|ty of, but mine owne malice, vilenes, &s;loath, and imperfectio~. And among&s;t other things which cau&s;e me to come hither to &s;eeke the <HI>Loue of God,</HI> one e&s;peciall cau&s;e is, that I vnder&s;tand he is a &s;ingular good Chirurgion, of whome I de|&s;ire to be purged, and to be let bloud. And far|ther, men &s;ay, that with his only looke he pre|&s;ently di&s;couereth the imperfections and faults in the hart, and who&s;oeuer he toucheth he doth pre&s;ently cure. LOVE. &amp;c. Why doe&s;t thou de&s;ire to be made &s;o pure, and &s;ound? DE. Be|cau&s;e (as I haue learned of others) it is allowed to none to enter in hither that &s;hal be vncleane, but to &s;uch as &s;hall be only pure, &s;ounde, and vndefiled. LOVE &amp;c. Con&s;idering them, that
<PB N="101" REF="51">thou putte&s;t thy whole tru&s;t and confidence in vs, &s;tay here a while. For thou can&s;t not enter in, or &s;peake with the <HI>Loue of God,</HI> except fir&s;t thou talke with a Boy of his: tarry here there|fore, and I will call the Boy, who will direct thee what thou art to doe, and how thou mai&s;t come to the &s;peach of his Ma&s;ter.</P>
</DIV2>
<DIV2 N="2" TYPE="chapter">
<HEAD><HI>CHAPTER. 2.</HI> Of the loue of our Neighbour.</HEAD>
<P>HEre <HI>De&s;ire</HI> &s;tayed, expecting greatly the comming of the Boy, that &s;houlde bring him in, to the &s;peach of his Ma&s;ter: who pre|&s;ently came forth. His name was caled the <HI>Loue of our Neighbour,</HI> whome when <HI>De&s;ire</HI> behelde, he could not through joyrefraine from weping for the exceeding great loue hee carried to his Ma&s;ter. LOVE &amp;c. What is the cau&s;e that thou weepe&s;t thus, con&s;idering in this hou&s;e all are chearefull and merry, and none is heard to weepe or lament? DE. Ioy, not &s;orrow maketh me to weepe. LOVE. &amp;c. Who do you &s;eeke for here? DE. The <HI>Loue of God.</HI> LOVE. &amp;c. I am his Boy: therefore if thou &s;eeke&s;t my ma&s;ter thou mu&s;t fir&s;t talke &amp; be acquainted with me. For my M. maketh &s;o great account of me, that he wil not &s;peake with tho&s;e that loue not me. DE. I mo&s;t willingly would learne and knowe thy conditions, and for the loue of thy M. be acquainted with thee. LOVE &amp;c. If thou
<PB N="102" REF="52">woulde&s;t be admitted among&s;t the number of my friends. Thou mu&s;t euery morning giue me in &s;teed of my breakfa&s;t, a certaine &s;awce called <HI>Hu~ble thought,</HI> &amp; an other at noone, called <HI>Hu~|ble &s;peach,</HI> &amp; a third at euening, caled <HI>Hu~ble work</HI> DE. Where &s;hall I find out, or get the&s;e &s;awces? LOVE. <HI>Humility</HI> &amp; her husband <HI>holy Purpo&s;e</HI> maketh the fir&s;t, which is <HI>Humble thought,</HI> wher by &s;he thinketh and e&s;teemeth her &s;elfe more vile, ba&s;e, and inferiour than any other, and ac|counteth of her &s;elfe no better then a labouring bea&s;t. This <HI>holy purpo&s;e</HI> prepareth a certaine Ele+ctuary for <HI>Humilitie,</HI> called <HI>Conte~pt of our &s;elfe,</HI> &amp; to make this &s;wace which we now &s;peake of, an other hearbe is to be added, called <HI>Good opinio~ of our neighbour,</HI> of which co~poundes <HI>hu~ble thought</HI> is made. And in all this prouince, is not a skilful ler man to make this &s;wace, then the forenamed husband of <HI>Humilitie,</HI> whome &s;o &s;oone as thou &s;halt get thy friend, he will in&s;truct thee how to make this &s;awce. The other called <HI>Hu~ble &s;peach</HI> is made, &amp; compounded of three other hearbes, which are, <HI>Humilitie, Gentlene&s;&s;e,</HI> and <HI>Affability,</HI> which mu&s;t be &s;trowed with a fine powder cal|led <HI>Slownes,</HI> and <HI>Sparing.</HI> The third which is <HI>Hum+ble worke,</HI> is compounded of many herbes. The chiefe whereof, are <HI>Chearefulne&s;&s;e, Loue,</HI> and <HI>Di|ligence.</HI> When thou &s;halt bring me the&s;e three &s;awces to eate, then &s;hall our friend&s;hip and fa|miliarity
<PB N="103" REF="52">be firme, and &s;oone after will I bring thee to the &s;peach of my M. <HI>De&s;ire</HI> much deligh+ted with this direction of this boy, &s;aid to him. DE. Con&s;idering you haue acquainted me with your condition &amp; de&s;ire, I wil labour to make the&s;e &s;awces, &amp; giue them to you. Thus <HI>Desire</HI> continued long in co~ference with this Boy, trea+ting &amp; di&s;cour&s;ing many matters with him, &amp; be ga~ to be familiar with him, &amp; deliuering to him, the fornamed &s;awce, at la&s;t he de&s;ired him to o|pe~ the gate, that thereby he might haue acce&s;&s;e to his M. LOVE. Thy reque&s;t is rea&s;onable, co~ &s;idering thou doe&s;t what lyeth in thy power, &s;tay but a little, I will goe call my M. and &s;ee if he will come forth to &s;peake with thee.</P>
</DIV2>
<DIV2 N="3" TYPE="chapter">
<HEAD><HI>CHAPTER 3.</HI> Of the Loue of God and our Neighbour, and of an other degree of loue, and of the of fiee and exerci&s;e thereof.</HEAD>
<P>NOw <HI>Desire</HI> began to thinke thus with him &s;elfe, whether the <HI>Loue of God</HI> would come forth to talke with him or no, co~&s;idering he was &s;o vile, mi&s;erable, &amp; wretched &amp; altogither vn|worthy, with whome &s;o great a Lord &s;houlde vout&s;afe to talke: and whil&s;t he weas thus deba|ting with him&s;elfe, he perceaued one comming towards him, who a&s;ked him, what he would, or with whom he would &s;peake. DE. Sir I &s;eeke to &s;peak with the <HI>loue of God</HI> LO. I am he which &s;o
<PB N="104" REF="53">&s;oone as <HI>De&s;ire</HI> heard, he fell to the ground, ha|uing lo&s;t his &s;trength. Then the <HI>Loue of God</HI> ta|king him by the hand, rai&s;ed him from the ground which made <HI>De&s;ire</HI> to weepe &s;o abun|dantly for joy, that hardly could he pronounce any word. Whereat the Loue of God being ten+der of hart, through the compa&s;&s;ion he had of him beganne to weepe al&s;o, noting the great loue and good will which <HI>De&s;ire</HI> had towardes him, &amp; &s;ai. LOVE. &amp;c. Cea&s;e off to weepe, for I cannot without griefe behold the teares of him that loueth me; but tell me, who told thee that I was abiding in this hou&s;e? DE. A cer|taine &s;heepheard, that I mette on the way, who directed me to this place, where I &s;hould finde you. LOVE. &amp;c. What did he tell thee con|cerning me? &amp; what is the cau&s;e why thou lo|ue&s;t me &s;o greatly, and ha&s;t &s;o great a de&s;ire to finde me out? Is it becau&s;e thou ha&s;t heard of others, that I be&s;towe many great giftes on my friendes, and v&s;e to rewarde with greate bene|fittes, &s;uch as &s;erue and obey mee? DE. No. But for this cau&s;e doe I loue you, becau&s;e you are, a good, a noble, and a famous Lord. And becau&s;e you bring your friendes and &s;erauntes to the place where they may &s;ee, and beholde God: then the which, there is no greater hap|pine&s;&s;e, and felicity in the world. The Loue of god hearing what <HI>Desire</HI> had &s;aid, was much ple+&s;ed
<PB N="105" REF="53">to heare his holy purpo&s;e &amp; inte~t, &amp; began to loue him now more then before, to whome <HI>De&s;ire</HI> &s;aid, I cannot &s;ufficiently meruaile my Lord, that you being &s;o mighty and potent a Lord, and the Sonne of &s;o great a King, admit &s;uch as follow, and &s;eeke after you, to finde you with &s;o great labour &amp; difficulty. LOVE. &amp;c. Doe not &s;o. For this is a mi&s;tery not knowne to all men. For many there be that thinke they haue not found, or knowe not me: when not with&s;tanding, I am neare vnto them, and then them&s;elues abounde with me. And againe there be others that per&s;wade them&s;elues, that they haue found and obteyned me, when notwith|&s;tanding they be farre from me, and haue not the lea&s;t knowledge, and vnder&s;tanding of me. DE. I be&s;eech you acquainte me with your conditions, and office that I may vnder&s;tand whither I be neare or farre of from you, for I hould and e&s;teeme of you, as of my Lord and friends. LOVE. &amp;c. My office and duety is to loue God, for I am called the Sonne of the Knowledge of God. DE. How do you loue God? LOVE. &amp;c. I haue a vehement de|&s;ire to loue him with all my hart, with all my &s;trength, and with all my power, and with a&s;|&s;aying any thing, whereby I may feele him in &s;uch manner, as may plea&s;e him, in referring all thinges to his honour, pray&s;e, and glory, and
<PB N="106" REF="54">the health and benefitte of mine owne &s;oule. And likewi&s;e doe I wi&s;h, that the whole world may know &amp; vnder&s;ta~d, him for his exceeding great goodne&s;&s;e, and that all creatures may honour him, and yeeld him daily thankes. And I enforce my &s;elfe with my earne&s;t de&s;ire, that neither in great or &s;mall thinges, much or lit|tle I offend or di&s;plea&s;e him, or that I doe any thing contrary to his plea&s;ure. And if through mine owne frailety and imbecillity I chaunce to offend him: I pre&s;ently craue and aske for|giuene&s;&s;e of him: and by that meanes our loue is repayred againe. And although my Lord and Ma&s;ter be &s;o good, &s;o noble, and &s;o gra|tious to me: yet am I not content with this fir&s;t &s;teppe, and degree: but yet proceede farther, and according to my power and abi|lity, endeuour to execute, nor only what hee commandeth: but what&s;oeuer the meane&s;t in this Mona&s;tery, &s;hall commaunde mee in his name. And this accu&s;tome I my &s;elfe to doe, with all reuerence, denotion loue, joy, humili|ty, and ready will: and that euer, in all pla|ces, and in euery good action. And hereby doe I knowe how greatly I loue him: when I doe that thing which hee commaundeth mee: For thus I per&s;wade my &s;elfe, that nothing in the worlde is &s;o gratefull to him, (bee it to talke with him, doe him reuerence, or to &s;hewe all
<PB N="107" REF="54">&s;eruice to him: as to doe that thing which ei|ther him&s;elfe or &s;omeother &s;hall command me in his name. For my Lord and Ma&s;ter &s;aith thus to me. How thinke&s;t thou that thy &s;er|uices can be acceptable to me, or that thou can&s;t bee loued of mee, if thou doe&s;t not that which I &s;hall commaund thee to doe? Or how can&s;t thou &s;ay thou loue&s;t me? For this knowe for certaine, that in no other thing thou can&s;t &s;o vnite thy &s;elfe to me, or conforme thy will &s;o neare to mine, as if thou willingly and glad|ly execute what I commaund thee?</P>
</DIV2>
<DIV2 N="4" TYPE="chapter">
<HEAD><HI>CHAPTER. 4.</HI> The Loue of God proceedeth in his di&s;cour&s;e.</HEAD>
<P>IN this degree of loue, I haue re&s;olued with my &s;elfe to performe what&s;oeuer, I holde my &s;elfe bound to, by my vocation and office. For &s;ince I fir&s;t profe&s;&s;ed my &s;elfe (of which I ne|uer repent me) I holde my &s;elfe by vow bound to performe that, which before I might either haue done or omitted. And for that cau&s;e I v&s;e diligently to thinke vpon my duety and office, re&s;oluting, and determining &s;till with my &s;elfe, to execute and di&s;charge, what&s;oe|uer I am bound to by vertue of it, according to the direction of holy write, and learned men. Being mo&s;t a&s;&s;ured, that many offende through ignorance of that, which they are bou~d
<PB N="108" REF="55">to by duty. And if they know what they ought to doe: and yet neglect and omit it; then is their offence farre greater and more grieuous: for then they offend through malice, and not ignorance. Farther &s;uch thinges as I haue vow|ed &amp; promi&s;&s;ed to do (which to performe I am bound by duety) tho&s;e with all my endeuours, I labour to execute. And I haue promi&s;&s;ed and vndertaken to my Lord and Ma&s;ter, to keepe for euer the faith, I haue giuen to three Virgins which abide &amp; dwell in this Mona&s;tery, which are <HI>Obedience, Cha&s;tity,</HI> &amp; <HI>Pouerty,</HI> which three he hath giuen and a&s;&s;igned me as wiues, there|fore morning and euening, I con&s;ider with my &s;elfe, how that day following I may be&s;t &s;erue and plea&s;e them. Saying to my &s;oule. Let me &s;e now my &s;oule, how thou wilt endeuour with thy &s;elfe this day to obey, and plea&s;e the&s;e Vir|gins, and at night, &s;hew me my &s;oule how thou ha&s;t performed this day, what thou dide&s;t pro|mi&s;&s;e to doe towards the&s;e Virgins, &amp; whither thou ha&s;t grieued or offended any of them. Thus doe I &s;till endeuour, to &s;hewe my &s;elfe a faithfull &s;eruant to them. DE. Wherefore do you thus? LOVE. &amp;c. Becau&s;e the&s;e be the chamber-keepers of my Lord and Ma&s;ter, and none are admitted or can talke with him, except the&s;e Virgins procure him entrance. DE. Tell me I pray you, what &s;pirituall ex|erci&s;es
<PB N="109" REF="55">haue you, whereby you &s;erue and keepe promi&s;&s;e with the&s;e Virgins. LOVE. &amp;c. Three thinges I propounde, and determine to my &s;elf, which night &amp; day I offer vp to them, and which con&s;trayne me to &s;erue, and be obe|dient to them. The fir&s;t is called, <HI>To aske or de|mand nothing.</HI> The &s;econd <HI>To couet or de&s;ire no|thing.</HI> The third. <HI>To thinke on nothing.</HI> This fir&s;t <HI>Purpo&s;e</HI> of mine &s;erueth <HI>Obedience</HI> if &s;o be, it be &s;ea&s;oned with a &s;awce, called <HI>To doe,</HI> and then may you cal <HI>it to aske to do nothing.</HI> With which foode Obedience is &s;u&s;teyned, &amp; by how much more abundantly and purely I offer this vp, by &s;o much the more am I in grace, &amp; fauour with my Lord, &amp; the greater affection doth he car|ry to me. This &s;elfe &s;ame foode, called To aske, if I &s;ea&s;on it with another &s;awce, called To haue is called, To aske or de&s;ire to haue nothing, and with that doe I feede the &s;econd Virgin, called Pouerty. DE. Stay here a while, I pray you. May I not aske to haue any thing that I want, and haue neede of? LOVE. &amp;c. No, except the thing, you de&s;ire be mo&s;t needfull. For if there be any thing nece&s;&s;ary for thee to haue, thou ha&s;t thy Superiour, who by him&s;elfe or his Officiall &s;hall prouide for thee, that thou neede&s;t not aske, what thou maye&s;t not lawful|ly aske. For he who&s;e charge it is to looke to the whole hou&s;e: will prouide nece&s;&s;aries for
<PB N="110" REF="56">all as it becommeth the Superiour, to the intent they may more freely &s;erue GOD and attend their &s;pirituall meditations, neither &s;hall there be neede that any aske or craue &s;uch thinges as be nece&s;&s;ary for them. And it &s;hall be no little fault in the Superiour to want that di&s;cretion, as not to giue thinges nece&s;&s;ary for tho&s;e vn|der his charge except they dema~d them. Ther|fore that which I &s;aid of asking or demanding, ought to be doubly vnder&s;toode; that without offending one may aske, if &s;uch thinges as &s;hall bee nece&s;&s;ary, bee not giuen without asking, which thing may ju&s;tly be reprehended, e&s;pe|cially in Religious per&s;ons, and if it be a thing of great nece&s;&s;ity, and not rather to &s;atisfie our contentement. For in asking otherwi&s;e it may proceede from &s;uperfluity, curiou&s;ity or &s;ome other temptation. And a&s;&s;ure thy &s;elfe that vn|der a colour of nece&s;&s;ity, many vices are often couered, e&s;pecially in thinges that appertayne to the &s;u&s;tinance of the body as meate, drinke, cloathing, and &s;uch like. DE. How &s;hall I know whither, that which I de&s;ire proceede of nece&s;&s;ity or rather to &s;atisfie my contentement. LOVE. &amp;c. If thou mai&s;t forbeare that which thou aske&s;t, and if thou can&s;t liue without it, and art not con&s;trayned to &s;uffer &s;ome great or no|table hurt in thy body or thy &s;oule, which may hap to thee in not asking. For if thou &s;halt bee
<PB N="111" REF="56">&s;ure in not flattering thy &s;elf that in not asking, &s;ome great perill or danger may happe~ to thee, then not to aske is a great offence, and to aske, a merit if thou referre it to God. But if thou mai&s;t conueniently liue without that, which thou aske&s;t, and endure no great hurt or dan|ger thereby, admit thou &s;uffer &s;ome labour or griefe in forbearing it, prouided &s;till thou ex|ceede not the boundes of di&s;cretion; in this ca&s;e not to aske, althopugh that which thou as|ke&s;t be &s;ome what needefull, it &s;hall be a great merit to thee, &amp; a token of thy vertue, although without offending thou mai&s;t aske as I haue &s;aid. For happy in my opinion is the man that &s;uffereth any thing for the <HI>Loue of God.</HI> But if that which thou wilt aske be but &s;uch a thing, which without hurt of thy body or &s;oule thou mai&s;t ea&s;ely mi&s;&s;e: thou mai&s;t thinke then, that to aske is but to &s;atisfie thy minde and plea&s;ure, although it be couered with a pretext of &s;ome holy purpo&s;e. For &s;inne doth not alwais &s;hew, it &s;elfe openly, but is &s;hadowed often with a co|lour of holines. And thus mai&s;t thou knowe if thou aske&s;t any thing, whither it proceede of nece&s;&s;ity or an van&s;atisfied will. And lea&s;t thou be deceaued through they partiall Iudge|ment, it will be nece&s;&s;ary for thee, to keepe a diligent watch ouer thy &s;elfe, and to bee ex|erci&s;ed in vertue. Which if thou doe&s;t not,
<PB N="112" REF="57">it will be good, that thou be ordered by the ad|ui&s;e of di&s;cret men, and holy Scripture.</P>
</DIV2>
<DIV2 N="5" TYPE="chapter">
<HEAD>CHAPTER. 5. <HI>Of the other two Purpo&s;es of the</HI> Loue of God, <HI>to wit</HI> To de&s;ire nothing, <HI>and</HI> To thinke on nothing.</HEAD>
<P>LOVE. &amp;c. hauing breefly explayned my fir&s;t <HI>Purpo&s;e,</HI> wherewith the fir&s;t two Vir|gins, <HI>Obedience</HI> &amp; <HI>Pouerty,</HI> are as I haue &s;aid be|fore nourri&s;hed, I mu&s;t &s;hew and declare to thee the co~ditions of the other two, <HI>To de&s;ire nothing,</HI> and <HI>To thinke nothing.</HI> Know therefore for mo&s;t certayne that this former <HI>Purpo&s;e to aske nothing,</HI> is grounded vpon the &s;econd, <HI>To de&s;ire nothing.</HI> For it is mo&s;t certaine that, <HI>To haue,</HI> proceedeth only from <HI>To de&s;ire.</HI> Then the cau&s;e take~ away, which is <HI>To de&s;ire;</HI> the effect fayleth, which is <HI>To aske.</HI> And by that is effected that which is contrary to this, which is <HI>Not to aske.</HI> This is the other <HI>Purpo&s;e</HI> wherewith <HI>Cha&s;tity</HI> is nouri&s;h|ed, which is the third Virgin, who&s;e office is, <HI>To de&s;ire no worldly or carnall thing.</HI> But becau&s;e this herbe hath an other roote, from whence it &s;pringeth, which is <HI>To thinke on nothing,</HI> (for the thing cannot bee de&s;ired, which is not fir&s;t thought on) I adjoyne a third <HI>Purpo&s;e,</HI> which is <HI>To thinke nothing.</HI> But in this place <HI>To thinke,</HI> mu&s;t be vnder&s;tood of that <HI>Thought,</HI> which is per&s;euerant &amp; &s;ettled, with a con&s;ent &amp; liking
<PB N="113" REF="57">of rea&s;on and will. For to thinke nothing, doth not con&s;i&s;t in the power of man. But it re|&s;teth in man not to continue, or per&s;euer in ill thoughts: but &s;one to collect him&s;elfe, and to turne to God. Now when this herbe <HI>To thinke,</HI> is watered with the water, called to <HI>See.</HI> Wee mu&s;t then adde to the&s;e holy <HI>Purpo&s;es</HI> a cer|tayne powder, that is called. <HI>Strict garde of our eyes.</HI> For this is mo&s;t nece&s;&s;ary. The&s;e three <HI>Purpo&s;es,</HI> doe not only purge and make cleane my &s;oule from all worldly affares, from al &s;elfe-will, and from all &s;pot and &s;tayne: but be&s;ides (that I may with greater zeale &s;erue my Lord God) procure me great purity of hart, &amp; ridde me of all priuate affection and loue, and joyne, and vnite me wholly to my Lord God and Sa|uiour. And to the&s;e three <HI>Purpo&s;es</HI> I haue re|duced all my other &s;pirituall exerci&s;es, as well tho&s;e which are appertayning to <HI>Humility:</HI> as &s;uch as are agreable to al other vertues, becau&s;e I knowe, perfection to con&s;i&s;t in them. And &s;uffer not thy &s;elfe to bee per&s;waded that in vayne, I yeeld obedience to the&s;e three Vir|gins, for I finde their fauour and goodnes, great towardes me, who plentifully be&s;tow on me all kinde of goodnes. The one of them called, <HI>Po|uerty,</HI> hath lately be&s;towed on me a ritch orna|ment. DE. I de&s;ire to &s;ee it, where doe you keepe it? LOVE. &amp;c. I keepe it in two
<PB N="114" REF="58">places, in my hart, and in my chamber. And it is &s;o great, and of &s;o high e&s;timation, that I could not po&s;&s;ibly keepe it in my hart, vntill I bani&s;hed, and vtterly excluded thence, all worldly loue, affection, and de&s;ire: neyther could it po&s;&s;ibly be conteyned in my chamber vntill I had ca&s;t thence all &s;uperfluous thinges, re&s;eruing only the <HI>Crucifix,</HI> and &s;ome few other bookes. DE. What is the name of this orna|ment? It is called <HI>Nothing at all,</HI> and it is the e&s;|peciall and chiefe&s;t trea&s;ure of <HI>Pouerty</HI> who is the riche&s;t Lady of all the world, and who po&s;|&s;e&s;&s;eth &s;o much trea&s;ure, as here &s;elfe doth de&s;ire.</P>
</DIV2>
<DIV2 N="6" TYPE="chapter">
<HEAD><HI>CHAPTER. 6.</HI> Of the office of the Loue of God, and of prayer in the &s;ame degree.</HEAD>
<P>IN this fore&s;aid office of <HI>Loue,</HI> which is to doe that which my Lord and Ma&s;ter com|maundeth, and my duety bindeth me to I mu&s;t v&s;e a certaine condition or circum&s;tance, which is, that if at any time according to my office and place I am &s;et in (as being attendant in his chamber) I come vnto him, either to doe him &s;eruice, or to craue &s;omething of him, or el&s;e to to &s;peake to him; I endeuour to &s;hew and pre|&s;ent my &s;elfe, with as great purity and humili|ty of hart, as I can. For by how much clea|ner in hart I pre&s;ent my &s;elfe to him, by &s;o much more clearne&s;&s;e I &s;ee and beholde him.
<PB N="115" REF="58">And I accu&s;tome to craue the fellow&s;hippe of my Brother the <HI>Feare of God,</HI> that he with an Aunte of mine called <HI>Reuerence,</HI> woulde goe al&s;o with me. De. What is the rea&s;on you take <HI>Reuerence</HI> with you? LOVE. &amp;c. I weigh and con&s;ider with my &s;elfe who I am, and who my Lord and Ma&s;ter is. I think vpon his mo&s;t &s;acred Maje&s;ty, who of right, and de&s;art, ought to be reuerenced, and feared as one mo&s;t wor|thy of all honour, and loue. Father, I v&s;e to contemplate how al the ble&s;&s;ed &s;oules fall pro|&s;trate before him, adore him, and prai&s;e him, and that by admiring, and pray&s;ing his &s;o great and excellent goodnes and Maje&s;ty, they be raui&s;hed, and in a &s;ort transformed into God him&s;elfe. Yet farther, I am wont to con&s;ider, how my hart, thought, wil, &amp; purpo&s;e, or intent is laide open before him, and how he &s;eeth, and knoweth my &s;ecrets, better then my &s;elfe. Al&s;o how according to the plea&s;ure of his diuine ho+ly will, he is able to doe, alter, e&s;tabli&s;h, and a|boli&s;h all things: and how life and death, being and not being, the &s;aluation, or damnation of the whole world, is in his hands. I farther me|ditate with my &s;elfe, how he is wholy and all good: &amp; the chiefe&s;t, highe&s;t, &amp; pure&s;t goodnes it &s;elf, which conte~plating rightly, I oft tremble in hart, feare, &amp; almo&s;t faint: e&s;pecially behol|ding my &s;elf, &s;o wicked, &s;o vile, &s;o abhominable
<PB N="116" REF="59">and &s;o filthy a &s;inner, to pre&s;ume, to &s;peake to a Lord of &s;o great Maje&s;tie, &amp; that he will ad|mit me to come to him, &s;peake with him, and eate with him, as though I were vnited in great friend&s;hippe with him. Often doe I v&s;e this or like &s;peech to him. What neede ha&s;t thou, O my Lord and Ma&s;ter that &s;uch &s;inners as my &s;elfe, &s;hould pre&s;ent them&s;elues before thee? Is it &s;eemely, O my Lord, that &s;uch vnworthy per&s;ons &s;hould pre&s;ume to &s;erue or attend on thee? where is the honor and reuerence, that is due to thy Princely Maje&s;ty. DE. What an&s;|were do you receaue againe from him? LOV. I cannot certaynely tell thee, &s;auing that he makes me weepe for joy, and &s;ayeth. Care not thou much for that, let not this thing trouble thee, con&s;dering thou ha&s;t not of thy &s;elfe pro|cured this place, nor intruded into it, but art called to it, and cho&s;en by mee. My &s;elfe be&s;t knoweth why I haue placed thee in it. Let thy only care be, diligently to di&s;charge thy office, and with thy vttermo&s;t power to performe, what thy duety bindeth thee to, in the place thou art appointed, and then take thou care for no other matter. DE. What &s;ay you to him, when you come before him, accompanied with your a&s;&s;ociates <HI>Humility, Feare,</HI> and <HI>Reuerence?</HI> LOVE. &amp;c. Fir&s;t I di&s;patch tho&s;e prayers, and diuine &s;eruice which this order of life, my
<PB N="117" REF="59">vowe, and profe&s;&s;ion binde me to, and that not &s;adly or vnwillingly, or only for nece&s;&s;ity: but with as great attention, deuotion, diligence, willingnes, chearefulnes, &amp; reuerence as I can. And although I be bounde of nece&s;&s;ity to &s;uch prayers. Yet chaunge I may nece&s;&s;ity into a re|dy will; and mo&s;t joyfully performe what I am bound to doe. Then, that I may craue &s;ome|thing of him, and may moue him to graunt it me; I endeuour with all my power to pray&s;e and laude him, and cea&s;e not to honour him, a&s;&s;uring my &s;elfe that, that is acceptable to him. And in pray&s;ing him, I de&s;ire his miraculous workes which he hath done, plea&s;ing and de|lighting my &s;elfe in remembring them, and exerci&s;e my &s;elfe in telling his mighty power, high wi&s;dome and exceeding goodnes. And farther I rehearce the great grace &amp; large boun+ties, which he be&s;toweth on his &s;ouldiers and &s;eruants, honouring exalting him for the &s;ame. Neither pa&s;&s;e I in &s;ilence his exceeding great mercy, which he euer hath and &s;till doth &s;hew towardes his enemies, and am much a|ma&s;ed at his gentlene&s;&s;e and clemencie. That not only he doth not reuenge him&s;elf on them: but be&s;ides be&s;toweth great rewardes vppon them. Be&s;ides I render great thankes to him for the great goodnes, which is in him&s;elfe, and re|cyte and number his vertues, and renowne his
<PB N="118" REF="60">beauty, wi&s;dome &amp; exceeding goodnes, pray|&s;ing him for them, and rejoycing, and trium|phing that he is &s;o exceeding great and good. And this doe I often, knowing &s;ufficiently his will herein, and not doubting, but that it is ac|ceptable to him, and that it is his plea&s;ure that man &s;hould be conuer&s;ant with him&s;elfe, that is with God, and conferre with him of plea&s;ant, joyfull and &s;ecret mi&s;teries: whereof they are ignorant, that be carele&s;&s;e thereof, and will not enter into his &s;ecret chamber with him, al|though they be in his hou&s;e, and attend vpon him. DE. Wherefore doe you pray&s;e him with all the&s;e high titles? LOVE. &amp;c. Be|cau&s;e the more I extoll, commend, and pray&s;e him, the more I di&s;plea&s;e, de&s;pi&s;e, and &s;et at nought my &s;elfe: which how acceptable it is to him, cannot be declared with tongue. And this is his will &amp; plea&s;ure, that we continually haue &s;et before our eyes his goodnes, his excellency, and his infinite greatnes: and our owne malice, our ba&s;enes, and exceeding mi&s;ery. And far|ther I am certayne that I cannot be deceaued, although I pray&s;e and honour him all that is in my power: for he is farre more noble, more excellent, more potent, and greater, then either I or all creatures togither, both Angelicall and humaine can comprehend with thought.</P>
</DIV2>
<DIV2 N="7" TYPE="chapter">
<PB N="119" REF="60">
<HEAD><HI>CHAPTER. 7.</HI> Of the office of the Loue of God, in an other degree, and a contmuation of that, which he beganne to declare, of the manner of praying.</HEAD>
<P>LOVE. &amp;c. After that I haue endeuou|red to pray&s;e, and exalt him with the vtter|mo&s;t of my power, I offer vp to him my whole minde and will, with a chiefe <HI>Purpo&s;e</HI> that I haue, that for no worldly thing I would offend or di&s;plea&s;e him: and al&s;o mo&s;t earne&s;tly I en|treate him, that it may plea&s;e him to keepe and pre&s;erue me in this will and minde, con&s;idering that without him, I am no way able to doe it. Then aske I forgiuenes of him, for all the of|fences and iniuries I haue done vnto him, and be&s;eech him that he will permit me to thinke vpon, vnder&s;tand, or loue nothing but him&s;elf. And yet farther I de&s;ire of him, that con&s;ide|ring he hath vout&s;afed to admit me for his &s;er|uant and friend, &amp; that into a place of &s;o high a function: that it will plea&s;e him to be&s;towe on mee the holy &s;pirit of <HI>Humility:</HI> which may withdrawe and turne away my minde, from all things di&s;plea&s;ing, and hatefull to him, that my &s;eruice be not hatefull but acceptable to him. Al&s;o I craue of him that he will be&s;tow on me &s;uch things as he knoweth, I &s;tand in neede of, whither they bee &s;uch thinges as are nece&s;&s;ary for me, or &s;uch as for his honour and plea&s;ure,
<PB N="120" REF="61">he will haue me endued with: and that, for no other cau&s;e, but that he would &s;uffer me to liue and die in him, and not ca&s;t me from his &s;ight according to my de&s;ert. After this I pray for all tho&s;e that I loue mo&s;t, and to whome either &s;piritually or corporally I hold my &s;elfe bound for all this &s;ociety, and for all liuing creatures, that it will plea&s;e him to be&s;towe his grace and mercy on them; that according to their due|ties, they may knowe him, loue him, honour, pray&s;e, and wor&s;hippe him. All this doe I labour to pre&s;ent to him, with &s;incerity and pu|rity of hart. DE. How doe&s;t thou pre&s;ent thy &s;elfe before him with this purity of heart? LoVE. &amp;c. As neare as I can, I keepe a watch ouer my hart and minde, and take a care to my &s;oule, re&s;trayning as much as I may all my &s;en&s;es, and continually &s;etting before my &s;elfe playne &s;implicity, which doth inter|pret to the be&s;t what&s;oeuer I behold. And if I would bee free and &s;ecure from all feare: then doe I remayne and abide with my Lord and Ma&s;ter, with whome to be pre&s;ent, and to talke and conferre, and who&s;e coun&s;aill and aduice to demand, is my chiefe good and joy, my only will and comfort. Neither can I enjoy peace, quiet, or &s;ecurity, or finde anie manner of contentement, or ea&s;e, but only when I am pre&s;ent in his company. And for this cau&s;e
<PB N="121" REF="61">haue I determined with my &s;elfe, to for&s;ake all worldly plea&s;ures, and to dwell with him, and cleaue to him, neuer to depart from him except hee &s;hall command mee. DE. Yet I thinke it very nece&s;&s;ary &s;ometimes to be bu|&s;ied in reading good bookes. LOVE. &amp;c. True it is, it is good to &s;pend &s;ome time in rea|ding, but not with a minde to become learned and skilfull, but that thereby thou mai&s;t finde out GOD and his wayes, and once hauing found him, mai&s;t knowe and loue him. For this I &s;hall not neede many bookes. This one thing I looke after, will, and de&s;ire, that I may &s;ettle and fix my whole loue on GOD, and may joyne all my affection, rea&s;on, and vnder|&s;tanding to him. For his loue alone is &s;uffici|ent for me, he will teach me all thinges that &s;hall be conuenient for me to knowe, and can open and di&s;couer more &s;ecrets and mi&s;teries to mee, how I &s;hall loue and not offend him, then all the books that the whole world doth po&s;&s;e&s;&s;ed. And I obtayne greater purity of &s;oule, feare, deuotion, reuerence, compun|ction, fortitude and &s;trength, and &s;euerity a|gain&s;t the fle&s;h, by being in his pre&s;ence, then by reading continually. Be&s;ides I know for certayne, hee neuer will aske account how much I haue reade: but how much I haue lo|ued amd e&s;teemed him. Neither would I al|togither
<PB N="122" REF="62">exclude or bani&s;h reading, e&s;pecially for &s;uch as are yet &s;imple and ignorant, and knowe not howe to iudge of their thoughts, wordes, and workes. For to &s;uch it is requi&s;ite to &s;pend much time in reading, &amp; to learne the exerci&s;es of the &s;pirit &amp; minde. For as it would be thought great follie, ra&s;hnes, and di&s;grace to a Prince, if a rude country fellow not accu|&s;tomed to &s;peake to a King, &s;hould pre&s;ume in the pre&s;ence of all his nobility to come, and bouldly &s;peake his minde, and if in &s;peaking he &s;hould v&s;e his accu&s;tomed, ru&s;ticall and vnde|cent termes, it could not but be thought &s;o great a di&s;grace to the Prince, that he iu&s;tly might comma~d him to be thru&s;t out from his pre&s;ence and farre better had it beene, he had neuer pre|&s;umed thither, euen &s;o &s;tandeth the ca&s;e in &s;pi|rituall ca&s;es. But to tho&s;e that by reading, and hearing, haue alredy attayned to the knowledg of God, and diuine exerci&s;es, to &s;uch, the exer|ci&s;e of praying is more nece&s;&s;ary then reading, as being alredy expert how to behaue them|&s;elues in the &s;pirituall Court. Farther when I pre&s;ent my &s;elfe, before my Lord and Ma&s;ter. I am very carefull, that incon&s;tantly I turne not my head or eyes, hither or thither. For it would be taken a great di&s;honour to him, to looke an other way, while&s;t on &s;hould talke with him. DE. Tell me your meaning more
<PB N="123" REF="62">plainely for as yet I vnder&s;tand not. LOVE. When I &s;peake to my Ma&s;ter, if at &s;uch time I bu&s;ie my thoughts, and rea&s;on vpon anie thing but only vpon him I &s;peake to: then turne I my backe not my face to him. For this cau&s;e when I per&s;wade my &s;elfe, that I am pre&s;ent before him in &s;ight, and that he doth behold me, and neuer turneth his eyes from me, but marketh what I &s;ay: I v&s;e all reuerence, deuotion, loue and attention to him that I can. Then doe I pray&s;e and thanke him for all his benefits be|&s;towed on mee, and all other his creatures, calling them often to my minde, and rehear|&s;ing them, being mo&s;t certayne that he woul not haue me in-grate and vnmindefull of his giftes.</P>
</DIV2>
<DIV2 N="8" TYPE="chapter">
<HEAD><HI>CHAPTER. 8.</HI> Of the third degree of Loue.</HEAD>
<P>LOVE. &amp;c. Now although I haue &s;hew|ed the fir&s;t degree, or &s;teppe, of my loue, which is to loue my Lord and Ma&s;ter, and ne|uer to offend him: and al&s;o the &s;econd, which is to performe and put in practi&s;e all his com|mandements: yet doe I not content my &s;elfe herewith, in regarde my loue is &s;o great to him, but that I adde yet a third degree, or &s;teppe to his loue, which is to doe all tho&s;e thinges
<PB N="124" REF="63">that I knowe are plea&s;ing to him, or what&s;oe|uer I can imagine he would I &s;hould doe. DE. How knowe you, that you doe tho&s;e thinges that plea&s;e him? LOVE. &amp;c. There be two thinges whereby I may knowe that ea&s;ely: which are, if I loue that which he loueth, and likewi&s;e hate, what is hatefull to him. Con|cerning the fir&s;t, which is, to loue what he lo|ueth: I loue his Sonne, the mo&s;t beautifull, &s;weete, and noble, of all that euer were, and mo&s;t like his Father, and &s;o obedient to him, as neuer was, or &s;hall be Sonne more obedi|ent to a Father. Whome the Father loueth e|uen as him&s;elfe, becau&s;e he is more like to him, then euer Sonne vvas to a Father. And &s;o greate is the loue and vnion which is be|tweene them, that they two be but one; of one will, like power, and the &s;elfe &s;ame knowe|ledge. Who although they be di&s;tinct in per|&s;ons, yet are they both one in e&s;&s;ence. For this Sonne, the Father hath made a garment with the handes of his goodnes, like to that which Sheepheardes doe weare, which the Sonne hauing put on, departed out of the priuy Chamber of his princely Father, and yet for e|uer remayneth with him. And thus he liueth here in this Mona&s;tery, and conuer&s;eth with vs. For otherwi&s;e we could not behold him. Moreouer when his Father would &s;end him
<PB N="125" REF="63">ouer all the world, cladde with this garment, &amp; a little traueling &s;crippe: he entred al&s;o into this de&s;ert, to &s;eeke out his &s;heepe that were wandered and &s;trayed. And as hee trauailed through this de&s;ert, the Father permitted that he &s;hould be killed of wolues, and deuoured of dogs, and would giue him no helpe although he could: but would haue him endure a mo&s;t cruell death by the&s;e wolues, more painefull to him, then euer any &s;ffered, being his fle&s;h mo&s;t tender, in that he weas the Son of a King. All this did our Lord of his exceeding loue to|wardes vs, that all we that dwell and abide in his hou&s;e, might know, and trie his charity, and thereby might loue him againe, con&s;idering that fir&s;t he loued vs &s;o greatly, that he &s;pared not his one only Son, but deliuered him to die for the loue he bare to vs al. While&s;t the <HI>Loue of God.</HI> was relating this di&s;cour&s;e, <HI>De&s;ire</HI> being wholy wounded to the hart could not refraine from vehement weeping. But the <HI>Loue of God</HI> going on with his di&s;cour&s;e, &s;aid farther. And although God the Father hath &s;uffered his Son to be killed, yet notwith&s;tanding he loueth him &s;o exceedingly, that by his great omnipotency, he &s;oone ray&s;ed him from death, much more beautifull, and gloriou&s;ly triumphing, bring|ing with him, the &s;heep which he came to &s;eeke others being left in this wilderne&s;&s;e, that they
<PB N="126" REF="64">might be fedde and become fat with the know|ledge of him, he hauing a perpetual and watch|full care ouer them. So at length returning a|gaine to his Princely Father, he &s;itteth nowe on his right hand, &s;peaking and making inter|ce&s;&s;ion for vs al, being ouercome with to great a loue towardes vs. For I am of this opinion, that except we were &s;pared for his &s;ake, long &s;ince had we beene driuen cleane out of this Mona&s;terie: &s;o wicked and mi&s;erable we are, and &s;o negligently, and &s;loathfully wee &s;erue him, wholy forgette him and contemne him, and &s;o little care and remembrance we haue of him. But the Omnipote~t father loueth this Son &s;o greatly; that in my opinion nothing can be more acceptable to him in this world, then that we &s;hould loue this, his Sonne with him. For which cau&s;e I endeuour &amp; labour to loue him, &amp; to do tho&s;e thinges which I thinke plea&s;ing to him. DE. What is it, that you can doe ac|ceptable to him? LOVE. &amp;c In remembring and &s;peaking of his mo&s;t holy life, his paines &amp; laboures, his mo&s;t bitter death and Pa&s;sion, &amp; his holy commandements, and as neare as I can conformity my &s;elf according to his manners. For who &s;oeuer my Lord &amp; Ma&s;ter &s;eeth mo&s;t carefully to imitate the life of his Son, him doth he mo&s;t loue, and holde deare to him. And for this cau&s;e, was it his holy will and plea&s;ure, that
<PB N="127" REF="64">he &s;hould come &amp; liue here among&s;t vs, that by that meanes he might teach vs how we &s;hould liue, who before liued no better then bruite bea&s;ts. Therefore hath our ord &s;et him before our eyes, as a mirrour, or looking gla&s;&s;e, that e|uery one may knowe, whether he doe, or omit what his plea&s;ure is, and may &s;ee and behold in the life of his Sonne, as in a gla&s;&s;e, whether his works be good or badde. Neither is there any thing in all the world, by which we may more trulie come to the knowledge thereof. And yet be&s;ides this, there is one thing more, which my Lord and M. loueth, that is my Boy, called <HI>the loue of our Neighbour,</HI> whome he e&s;teemeth &s;o much, and holdeth &s;o deare, that what&s;oeuer we doe to him, be it good or bad, he taketh as if it were done to him&s;elfe. DE. How doe you loue this Boy? LOVE. &amp;c. Euen as my &s;elfe. And fir&s;t I per&s;wade my &s;elfe that he is better then I am, and although I execute a higher place, yet in all thinges that are agree|able to vertue, I obey him. I farther am care|full that by no meanes I afflict him, or giue him occa&s;ion of &s;orrowe, but &s;hewe all loue and kindne&s;&s;e to him that I can. I neuer haue &s;ini&s;ter conceite of him, but rather excu&s;e him all that I may. I neuer call him by anie name of di&s;grace. I mo&s;t willingly di&s;&s;emble, and hide his naturall defectes and imperfections.
<PB N="128" REF="65">In di&s;tre&s;te and aduer&s;itie, I lament and bewaile him. In his ab&s;ence I detract him not, neither &s;uffer others to doe if I may hinder it. I wi&s;h and de&s;ire, that my Lord and Ma&s;ter be better beloued of him, then of my &s;elfe: and that it would plea&s;e God to make him as good, or better then I my &s;elfe am. I enuie him nothing either for corporall or &s;pirituall giftes be&s;tow|ed on him by God, or for any thing which he enjoyeth in this world, but rejoyce in his pro|&s;perity, and lament in his aduer&s;ity. Farther, I thinke him to be the Angell of God; and my &s;elfe to be vnworthy to be his &s;eruant. This doe I, for that I knowe him to be beloued of my Ma&s;ter. Al&s;o I loue tho&s;e thinges vvhich appertaine to our &s;ocietie, towardes which, I carry a very great zeale, in regarde that they appertaine to the wor&s;hippe, &amp; honour of my Lord and Ma&s;ter, and to the pre&s;eruation and maintenance of this his hou&s;e. Wherefore I am very carefull, that nothing be lo&s;t, or mi&s;|layed, e&s;pecially of tho&s;e thinges which belong to the &s;eruice of Religion, Ceremonies, and the holy Canons of the Church. Which thinges although many doe not greatly e&s;teeme, yet I am fully per&s;waded, that the holy Gho&s;t would neuer haue in&s;tituted them, except hee had knowne them to be plea&s;ing to God. There|fore I holde the &s;malle&s;t Ceremonies, to be ob|&s;erued
<PB N="129" REF="65">imagining they tend to the honour of God, and mo&s;t readely and willingly, with all humility, &amp; reuerence doe I keepe them. And this thought doe I &s;till carry in my minde, if I &s;hould not honour my Lord and Ma&s;ter, wor|&s;hippe him carefully, &s;erue him dutifully, and &s;hewe my &s;elfe mo&s;t zealous in his &s;eruice, who &s;hould doe it? con&s;idering I am beholding to him, more then all other creatures. For if the &s;eruants and attendants of great Princes and States &s;erue and obey their Ma&s;ters, &s;o care|fully, diligently, and with &s;o great a de&s;ire; why &s;hould not I &s;erue and honour my Ma&s;ter and Lord, that admitteth me to the familiarity of his chamber. Therefore if the whole world &s;hould fall, and decline from his obedience, and not one &s;hould per&s;euer to &s;hewe him reuerence: yet woulde I remayne faithfull, euen vntill my la&s;t moment of life.</P>
</DIV2>
<DIV2 N="9" TYPE="chapter">
<HEAD><HI>CHAPTER. 9.</HI> Of tho&s;e things which the Loue of God hateth, and a conclu&s;ion of his dutie and office.</HEAD>
<P>THe other thing of the two, which I &s;pake of before, wherewith I plea&s;e and con|tent my Lord &amp; Ma&s;ter, is, to hate &s;uch things as I knowe he hateth. And two e&s;peciall ene|mies I knowe my Ma&s;ter hath, which are <HI>The world,</HI> and <HI>My fle&s;h.</HI> Wherefore I haue re&s;ol|ued with my &s;elfe, to hate them all, that I can,
<PB N="130" REF="66">&amp; to haue neither friend&s;hip or peace with the~ which determinatio~ to performe, I purpo&s;e an other thing, which is, to take no delight or re|creation with the~, neuer to talke or conuer&s;e fa+miliarly with the~, except it be by the co~mande|ment of my M. which co~mandement is of more weight, the~ any <HI>Purpo&s;e</HI> I can vndertake. Ther|fore haue I be&s;ought the Superior of this Mo|na&s;tery, that he neuer &s;end me abrod, into twon or contry for my recreatio~, or di&s;port, which is a thing different fro~ my di&s;po&s;ition, &amp; which I hate: yet when he co~mandeth it, I mu&s;t needs o|bey him. And although for &s;ome cau&s;es my M. command me &s;omtimes to goe abroad into the world, yet will he that I returne with all the &s;peed that I can make, for feare le&s;t I be caught and deceaued with the deceites thereof: being a&s;&s;ured, that how warely &s;oeuer men conuer&s;e therein, yet more hurt than good commeth euer thereby. Likewi&s;e do I dete&s;t &amp; hate my owne faultes and vncleanes, my il motions &amp; de&s;ires, my &s;odaine pa&s;&s;ions &amp; promi&s;e to &s;in, not igno+rant how hatefull they be to my Lord and M. And therfore for the loue of him, I continually labor to amend my &s;elfe. Be&s;ides I &s;eque&s;ter my &s;elfe from all that dwell in this Mona&s;tery (for his loue) except when charity &amp; nece&s;&s;itie re|quire the co~trary. Neither doe I it for that cau&s;e that I contemne them, or thinke them vnwor|thy
<PB N="131" REF="66">of my company &amp; fellow&s;hip (for as I &s;aid before, I e&s;teeme them as Saints and Angelles) but rather becau&s;e I thinke my &s;elfe vnworthy of their pre&s;ence and conuer&s;ation, or meete to ki&s;&s;e the ground that they treade on. DE. Why do you &s;o? LO. Becau&s;e in the&s;e times Religio~ is much decayed, by rea&s;on of to much familia|rity, and conuer&s;ing of &s;uch as profes mona&s;ti|cal liues, not only among&s;t them&s;elues, but al&s;o among&s;t &s;ecular per&s;ons. Whereby it chanceth that &s;o little prayer, deuotion and meditation is v&s;ed. For in the&s;e daies &s;ome Mona&s;teries are become like Princes Palaces, and only in name &amp; habit they &s;hew them&s;elues religious: when they treate of, and handle naught, but worldy cau&s;es: &amp; holines &amp; religion is &s;o rare among&s;t &s;ome of the~, that they neuer frequent their deuo+tions, but when they meet in their <HI>Oratories,</HI> out of which they talke of nothing, but worldy bu+&s;ine&s;&s;es, and newes, being alwaies &s;o di&s;tracted, that they know not how to collect their minds to &s;erue God: and when they are called again&s;t their wils to their <HI>Oratories,</HI> to &s;ing their &s;eruice they feare they &s;hall not &s;oone enough depart fro~ thence againe: &amp; thus they &s;ing their &s;eruice being full of high mi&s;teries, with litle reuerence or no deuotio~ at al, hauing their minds &amp; de&s;ire on the end, &amp; in the kitchen. And beau&s;e they vnder&s;ta~d litle of God, or what appertayneth
<PB N="132" REF="67">to him: God likewi&s;e regardeth them not, but hateth them. Therefore haue I determined to inure my &s;elfe to a cu&s;tome, and to endeuour to be alwaies &s;olitary, and attend my deuotions that &s;o my minde may take delight in God, and tho&s;e thinges that appertaine to him, and that I may learne to loue him, as in truth it is mo&s;t re|qui&s;ite, con&s;idering that for that cau&s;e I haue for&s;aken the world, &amp; withdrawne my &s;elf hi|ther. DE. Some will &s;ay thou art &s;ingular, &amp; wil note thee for it. LOVE. I regard not that, for I ought not de&s;ire to plea&s;e men: e&s;pecially whe~ it &s;hall di&s;plea&s;e and offend God. And &s;o long as I am not &s;candalous to others, let them think or &s;peake their plea&s;ures of me. That which I doe, is but my office, and dutie, if therfore thou &s;eeke me, doe thou as I haue done.</P>
</DIV2>
<DIV2 N="10" TYPE="chapter">
<HEAD><HI>CHAPTER. 10.</HI> The Loue of God brought defire into the hou&s;e.</HEAD>
<P>IN this meane time <HI>De&s;ire</HI> was much amazed, and bethought him&s;elfe of tho&s;e thinges which he had heard of the <HI>Loue of God,</HI> and &s;aid to him. DE. When you haue done all the&s;e thinges, is there cau&s;e that you &s;houlde be in feare of any thing? LOVE. &amp;c. Yea trulie. I mu&s;t with great care and &s;tudie ende|uour, that by doing well I fall not into vaine|glory, and &s;elfe liking. For if &s;o I &s;hould yeeld to them, pre&s;ently my Ma&s;ter would expel me
<PB N="133" REF="67">this Mona&s;tery. Therefore haue I alwaies <HI>Hu|mility</HI> my Mother by my &s;ide. DE. Carry me I be&s;eech you into the hou&s;e. LOVE. Followe me, for thou ha&s;t had conference enough with me. I will bring thee vnto an other fellowe of mine, who&s;e office is higher, and more worthy then mine. DE. What is his name? LOVE. He is called <HI>De&s;ire of God.</HI> Now <HI>De&s;ire</HI> vvent with a chearefull minde, accompanied with the <HI>Loue of God,</HI> to &s;eeke <HI>De&s;ire of God,</HI> and hauing founde him, he asked of him if he were <HI>De&s;ire of God.</HI> DESIRE OF GOD. I am hee thou &s;eeke&s;t, what woulde&s;t thou with me DE. I would intreat to be admitted to your &s;eruice. Here <HI>De&s;ire of God</HI> was delighted with the rea|die will of <HI>De&s;ire,</HI> and &s;aid to him. DESIRE OF GOD. If thou de&s;ire to liue with me, thou mu&s;t be wel in&s;tructed by my brother the <HI>Loue of God.</HI> For <HI>De&s;ire of God</HI> is made of the wine that runneth out of that ve&s;&s;ell of the <HI>Loue of God.</HI> See therefore thou be fir&s;t well in&s;tructed by the <HI>loue of God,</HI> lea&s;t otherwi&s;e thou deceaue thy &s;elfe. DE. I haue conuer&s;ed &s;ometime with the <HI>Loue of God,</HI> who hath in&s;tructed me of all things that are nece&s;&s;ary for me to doe. Which I hope through Gods helpe, to be able to exe|cute. But I cannot a&s;&s;ure you, making no doubt whether I am endued with the <HI>Loue of God</HI> or no, con&s;idering it is a thing known only to him
<PB N="134" REF="68">&s;elfe, who loue, or doe not loue him. Therefore herein I humble my &s;elfe to his wi&s;dome. Nei|ther can I a&s;&s;ure you, I haue any thing of my &s;elfe, one thing excepted which is <HI>Good will</HI> my dogge, whome neither, I dare pre&s;ume to cha|lenge as my owne, con&s;idering I haue him by the gifte of another. The&s;e wordes of <HI>De&s;ire,</HI> plea&s;ed <HI>De&s;ire of God,</HI> the rather con&s;idering, he perceaued that <HI>De&s;ire</HI> dur&s;t not attribute to him &s;elf his loue of God. DE. Now Sir, let me craue to knowe your conditions &amp; office. DESIRE. Euen as a man through true knowledge of him &s;elfe, attayneth to great contempt, and hatred of him&s;elfe, &amp; as through true knowledge of God a man likewi&s;e co~meth to perfect loue of God. So by much louing of God, a man is brought to the greater de&s;ire of God. And who&s;oeuer he be that getteth me: he de&s;ireth nothing els that this world can yeeld. For with &s;uch vertue and worthines doe I adorne his minde: that he thin|keth him&s;elfe vnmeete, to de&s;ire any thing, be|&s;ides that mo&s;t excellent, mo&s;t rare, &amp; mo&s;t to be de&s;ired good. Which is only our lord Ie|&s;us Chri&s;t. I &s;ay, I make him the mo&s;t excellent of the world. For although he be borne but of meane parentage: yet do I make him a mighty King. For who&s;oeuer is trulie endued with me, he thinketh on nothing but only on God: he &s;peaketh nothing but only on God: becau&s;e that wher&s;oeuer his trea&s;ure is, there he &s;etteth
<PB N="135" REF="68">his hart. And what&s;oeuer the hart profoundly thinketh, that e&s;pecially the mouth vttereth. And tho&s;e thinges which are deliuered by the con&s;ent of the mouth, apparantly declare the thought of the hart. I am the foode and repa&s;t of that minde, which liueth, and is nouri&s;ned by good de&s;ire: in this hou&s;e of <HI>Charitie,</HI> I am of highe&s;t dignity, and keepe the dore of the &s;ecret chamber of the fore&s;aid <HI>Charity,</HI> and haue authority to admit &s;uch friendes as I allowe of. Here v&s;e I the office of a Cryer, or a Trumpet|ter, and walking about this Mona&s;tery, make certaine cries and &s;oundes, vntill &s;uch time as I awake and &s;tirre vp my Ma&s;ter, and cau&s;e him to come forth to &s;peake with &s;uch as &s;eek him. Who doe&s; thou thinke awaked me euen now, when thou &s;toode&s;t calling &s;o long at the gate, &amp; knocked&s;t with the hammers of teares, and &s;ighes? truly the barking of thy dog. I am the true&s;t me&s;&s;enger of <HI>Charitie</HI> &amp; come fir&s;t to the gate, &s;peake fir&s;t to my Mam neare&s;t to him, &amp; am &s;oone&s;t heard of him. Farther, it is in me to di&s;tribute the fruit of a mo&s;t rare tree, which we haue, called the <HI>&s;ight of God</HI> &amp;, I do giue it to o|thers to eate. DE. Is this fruit ple&s;ant in ta&s;t. For in the hou&s;e of <HI>Humilitie</HI> an other fruit was gi|uen me, mo&s;t bitter to eate, e&s;pecially at the fir&s;t it coulde hardly be &s;wallowed. DESIRE. OF GOD. This fruit is mo&s;t &s;weete, yet far
<PB N="136" REF="69">&s;weeter in the ta&s;t of &s;ome men, then of others, according as men are more de&s;irous and hun|gry after it, &amp; as they haue their ta&s;t &amp; mouthes mo&s;t perfect. Some there be who&s;e teeth are but dul or blunt: with whome this fruit agreeth not, becau&s;e they cannot hold it. Other &s;ome eate it without hunger or appetite: hauing their &s;tomakes ful &amp; ouercharged with other meates; to the&s;e men likewi&s;e it ta&s;teth not plea&s;antly, neither is it lightly di&s;ge&s;ted of them, yet neuer thele&s;&s;e it doth not hurt them. Some others there be, which by rea&s;on of &s;ome ague or &s;ome immoderate heate haue not their ta&s;t &s;o good as others, and the&s;e cannot judge the goodnes of this fruit, but only according as they &s;hall heare by others. DE. I be&s;eech you, giue me leaue to ta&s;t a little of this fruit. DESIRE OF GOD. It plea&s;eth me that thou &s;aye&s;t to ta&s;t a little thereof: for in this mortall life no man may eate thereof his fill: only he may ta&s; and trie how &s;weete it is. DE. Why &s;o? DESIRE OF GOD. If any man might enjoy it here to the full of his de&s;ire, he would neuer de&s;ire to depart from this world, and to goe to heauen. Know therefore that liuing here in this value of mi&s;ery, almo&s;t dead through hunger, and de|priued of &s;trength, by rea&s;on of long penury: we ought longly to watch and de&s;ire that day, wherein we may enter, into that great &s;upper
<PB N="137" REF="69">of our King and Ma&s;ter, de&s;iring and thir&s;ting after him in no other manner, then doth the hart thir&s;t for the cleare fountaine in the hote&s;t So~mer. And &s;uch is the vertue and force of this fruit, that one little mor&s;ell be it neuer &s;o &s;mall doth &s;atiate a mans &s;tomacke, bee hee neuer &s;o great an eater. But being once come to the pre&s;ence of this King and Ma&s;ter, hee will make our &s;tomacke better and &s;tronger, that wee &s;hall bee able to eate of this fruit, &s;o much as we will, and neuer receaue hurt or preiudice by it. But here if any one eate more of it, then his &s;tomacke can beare: he &s;hall rather receaue hurt then good thereby. Therefore mu&s;t we moderately eate of this fruit, vntill we arriue at that place of happines, where for euer we &s;hall be filled all mea&s;ure, with that &s;ame fruit which here we doe but only ta&s;te.</P>
</DIV2>
<DIV2 N="11" TYPE="chapter">
<HEAD><HI>CHAPTER 11.</HI> How De&s;ire of God prepared, De&s;ire to eate of this fruit.</HEAD>
<P>DE. Now then Sir, I be&s;eech you be&s;towe vpon me to eate &s;o much of this fruit, as your &s;elfe &s;hall thinke good. DESIRE OF GOD. Fir&s;t then con&s;idering, this fruit is not conteyned, but in a mo&s;t cleane ve&s;&s;ell: it be|hooueth that thou clen&s;e and make cleane thy teeth, and that thou wa&s;h thy mouth, thy eyes, thy face, thyhandes and feete. DE. Where
<PB N="138" REF="70">may I finde water, wherwith to do it? DESIRE OF GOD. I will bring thee to a liuing foun|tayne, that continually runneth both night and day, called <HI>Holie Religion,</HI> al&s;o I will a&s;&s;emble the Virgins of this Mona&s;tery, who &s;hall a&s;|&s;i&s;t to wa&s;h and purifie thee. This much con|tented <HI>De&s;ire,</HI> and gladly did he expect the comming of the&s;e Virgins, when behould he &s;awe <HI>De&s;ire</HI> of GOD, come and bring them with him, &s;aying, the&s;e be the Virgins that &s;hall wa&s;h thee. The fir&s;t is called <HI>Sweetnes.</HI> The &s;econd <HI>Concord.</HI> The third <HI>Pitty or Compa&s;&s;ion.</HI> The fourth <HI>Grace.</HI> The fift <HI>Clemencie.</HI> The &s;ixt <HI>Indulgence.</HI> The &s;euenth <HI>Mercy.</HI> The eight <HI>Beneuolence.</HI> The ninth <HI>Gentlenes.</HI> The tenth <HI>Sufferance.</HI> The eleuenth <HI>Tranquility.</HI> The twelfe <HI>Securitie.</HI> The thirtenth <HI>Ior.</HI> The four|tenth <HI>Di&s;cretion</HI> or <HI>Moderation.</HI> The fiftenth <HI>Deuotion.</HI> Who will giue thee a certayne &s;awce, that &s;hall procure thee an appetite, whereby more willingly &amp; plea&s;ingly thou &s;halt eat this fruit. For it is only giuen to &s;uch a hunger after it, but others are &s;ent away empty without it. The &s;ixtenth Virgin is <HI>Religion.</HI> The &s;euen|tenth is <HI>Per&s;euerance.</HI> The eightenth is <HI>Prayer.</HI> The nintenth is <HI>Hone&s;tie,</HI> and my &s;elfe <HI>De&s;ire of God,</HI> am the la&s;t, who am euer pre&s;ent at this holy Mona&s;tery of Virgins. And if thou wilt likewi&s;e a&s;&s;ociate thy &s;elfe with them, it will
<PB N="139" REF="70">prepare thee not a little to eate this fruit, which &s;o &s;one as thou ha&s;t eaten, thou &s;halt euer after haue the&s;e Virgins thy companions, who ne|uer will for&s;ake thee, except thou fir&s;t aban|don them. For they be very greedy to eate of this meate, and &s;o &s;one as they e&s;pie this fruit. They flie to it, as bees will doe to honny, and we cannot better knowe when a man hath this fruit, then if we &s;ee the&s;e Virgins flocking ab|out his gates. Now <HI>De&s;ire</HI> being wa&s;hed and well recreated with eating this fruit, was won|derfully comforted, to whome <HI>De&s;ire of God</HI> &s;aid, con&s;idering Brother that thou ha&s;t eaten of this fruit, it is nowe expedient that thou doe &s;ing al&s;o. For the &s;eruants of GOD, after they haue eate their meate v&s;e to &s;ing, giuing thankes and pray&s;e to GOD, and none a|bideth in this hou&s;e, that is not expert in &s;ing|ing. DE. After what manner &s;hall I &s;ing? DESIRE OF GOD. Wee will goe to the quyer where all the &s;ingers abide. The fir&s; is called, <HI>Benediction or Ble&s;&s;ing.</HI> The &s;e|cond <HI>Honour.</HI> The third <HI>Pray&s;ing.</HI> The fourth <HI>Thankesgiuing,</HI> among&s;t the&s;e mu&s;t thou &s;ing, who are excellent Mu&s;itions, and haue &s;ingu|ler &s;weete voyces. DE. What part mu&s;t I &s;ing? DESIRE OF GOD. The fir&s;t as I haue &s;aid is called <HI>Beneduction,</HI> he &s;ingeth the treble and pray&s;eth God for his high omnipotency.
<PB N="140" REF="71">The &s;econd <HI>Honur,</HI> he &s;ingeth the Conterte|nor, &amp; pray&s;eth God for his infinite wi&s;edome. The third <HI>Pray&s;ing,</HI> he &s;ingeth the Tenor, and extolleth the wonderfull goodnes of God, and all his vertues, his noblenes, and excellency, &amp; all that is in him. The fourth <HI>Thankesgiuing,</HI> he &s;ingeth the Ba&s;&s;e and giueth thankes to GOD for all his creatures, &amp; for al the benefits which he hath be&s;towed on them.</P>
</DIV2>
<DIV2 N="12" TYPE="chapter">
<HEAD><HI>CHAPTER. 12.</HI> How De&s;ire learned to &s;ing.</HEAD>
<P><HI>DE&s;ire</HI> was now much delighted, both with the manner of &s;inging, and al&s;o with the &s;ong, to whom <HI>De&s;ire of God</HI> &s;aid, now be think the &s;elfe whither thou wilt returne from hence or no. DE. Whither can I goe, that I may better my &s;elfe, e&s;pecially, con&s;idering I am come hither with &s;o great labour &amp; difficulty. For findingmy &s;elfe to be well entertayned here, and to liue in peace, and all contentement by no meanes will I depart from hence, for the old Prouerbe &s;ayeth, he that is well let him not chaunge his place, therefore Sir, I cannot be per&s;waded to depart, except you will by vio|lence expell expell me. DESIRE OF GOD. It is not our cu&s;tome to expell any again&s;t their willes, rather doe we entreate &s;uch as enter in, hither, that they will maketheir abodes here a|mong&s;t vs. Yet that they may knowe, that wee
<PB N="141" REF="71">admit none for our owne nece&s;&s;ity: &s;ometimes we aske of them whither they will depart. But &s;eing thou ha&s;t determined to continue here, thou mu&s;t not liue and be idle here. For no idle body dwelleth here, or that doth not &s;pend his time in good exerci&s;es. DE. What mu&s;t I doe? DESIRE OF GOD. What&s;oeuer is com|manded to thee. DE. If I am commanded no|thing, &s;hall I be idie? DESIRE OF GOD. Thou &s;halt &s;ing, and giue thankes, and pray&s;e to God, for thou art admitted hither e&s;pecially to &s;ing. And while&s;t thou art in doing, that which thou art commaded, thou maie&s;t &s;ing to thy &s;elf le&s;t tho be trobled with idle thoughts. But if thou de&s;ire to profit much, and greatly to plea&s;e our Lord and Ma&s;ter, and to in&s;inuate thy &s;elfe into his friend&s;hippe, as much as thou can&s;t, (if nothing el&s;e be commanded to thee,) conuer&s;e and conferre with him alone. Then &s;halt thou heare what he will &s;peake in thee, &amp; thou &s;halt learnemany &s;ecretes that he will re|ueale to thee, andthou &s;halt become his mo&s;t inwarde frend. DE. May any enter into his chamber, and &s;peake with him? DESIRE OF GOD. Yea truely, &s;o that he be accom|panied with <HI>Humility.</HI> And farther I a&s;&s;ure thee he taketh e&s;peciall delight, when any will come to him and &s;eeke to awake him. For it is his na|ture not to de&s;ire to be alone, and be a man ne|uer
<PB N="142" REF="72">&s;o meane or ba&s;e, yet doth he delight to haue him de&s;ire his pre&s;ence. And &s;o great is his dignity &amp; worthines that he regardeth not his per&s;on, or maketh any diference of their birthes that &s;ue to him, regarding only the hu|mility of their mindes. One man is as deare to him as an other, and he created them all of one and the &s;ame matter. Yea more, the more ba&s;e and vile the per&s;on is, &s;o that he deba&s;e and de|ject him&s;elfe; the greater doth he declare his loue towardes him. And to &s;ay truth tho&s;e which dwell in this Mona&s;tery among&s;t vs, the greate&s;t part of them (&s;ome fewe excepted) are borne but of meane &amp; ba&s;e parentage. For &s;uch as the world contemneth as abjects, tho&s;e doth God choo&s;e for his faithfulle&s;t &s;eruantes, that none of this &s;ociety &s;hould flatter them&s;elues: that they de&s;erued of them&s;elues to be admitted hither, and not through the &s;peciall grace and goodnes of God. If therefore thou de&s;ire to continue among&s;t vs, and to &s;ing among&s;t our other &s;igners, and de&s;ire farther that thy &s;ing|ing may be plea&s;ing, and acceptable to God, thou mu&s;t labour to ob&s;erue the&s;e foure things. The fir&s;t is <HI>A good will.</HI> The &s;econd <HI>Humility.</HI> The third <HI>Patience.</HI> The fourth <HI>Charity.</HI> Which if thou doe&s;t, thou &s;halt neuer erre in &s;inging. And although &s;ometimes thou chance to neg|lect &s;ome part, yet by dilige~t ob&s;eruation, thou
<PB N="143" REF="72">&s;halt ea&s;ely come into mea&s;ure againe. With the fir&s;t mea&s;ure or tune, which is <HI>A good will,</HI> thou &s;halt &s;ing the plaine &s;ong, which is (as it were) he ground &amp; fondation of the others. With the &s;econd and third, I meane <HI>Humility</HI> &amp; <HI>Patience,</HI> thou &s;halt &s;ing the Contertenor, for <HI>Humility</HI> &amp; <HI>Patience,</HI> are contrary to &s;elfe will. With the fourth, which is <HI>Charity,</HI> thou &s;halt explayne, and declare the &s;ound and tune, of the Organs, and that with exceeding &s;weetnes &amp; harmony of thy &s;oule &amp; &s;pirit. And if it fortune that thou be out of tune pre&s;ently, haue recour&s;e to the fir&s;t note or mea&s;ure. Al&s;o if thou chaunce to &s;ing contrary to thy fellowes, ob&s;erue him that directeth thee, who will bring thee &s;one into tune againe, through his helpe and a&s;&s;i&s;tance, and with the loue of our Lord &amp; Ma&s;ter. And in all thy &s;inging ob&s;erue this one thing dili|gently, that thou forget not to eate the fruit, which thou dide&s;t gather, in the hou&s;e of <HI>Hu|mility,</HI> I meane <HI>Di&s;trust of thy &s;elfe,</HI> for the more thou attayne&s;t to the Loue and De&s;ire of God, the better thou &s;halt knowe him, and &s;weeter &s;halt thou finde him. To conclude the more thou &s;halt offer of this fruit to my Lord and Ma&s;ter, the greater &s;halt thou finde his loue and friend&s;hippe towardes thee, for willingly doth he eate of it, and mo&s;t plea&s;ing is it to him.</P>
</DIV2>
<DIV2 N="13" TYPE="chapter">
<PB N="144" REF="73">
<HEAD><HI>CHAPTER. 13.</HI> How <HI>De&s;ire of God,</HI> brought <HI>De&s;ire</HI> into the chamber of his <HI>Lord</HI> and <HI>Ma&s;ter,</HI> and of the mannerof Praying.</HEAD>
<P>DE. One thing there remayneth yet which I would enteate of you, that now con&s;i|dering. You haue graunted me, to be a &s;eruant of this hou&s;e, you will farther bring me, to the knowledge of my Ma&s;ter, that I may &s;e him &amp; ki&s;&s;e his hand. DESIRE OF GOD. Follow me in &amp; I will graunt thy de&s;ire. Now beganne <HI>De&s;ie</HI> to feare and to tremble, thinking that he mu&s;t &s;peake with a King of &s;o great Maje&s;ty in his priuy chamber, and &s;o great was his feae and his a&s;toyni&s;hment, that neither could he or dur&s;t he pre&s;ume to come neare him, but nowe beganne to thinketo goe back againe. But ad|ui&s;ing better with him&s;elfe, and thinking that he was a &s;weete, a noble, and an affable King, and curteous, and gentle to all men, he tooke hart againe tru&s;ting wholy to he gentlenes of him. Hee <HI>De&s;ire of God</HI> bidde him &s;tay at the dore, vntill he went in to his Ma&s;ter, and told him how <HI>De&s;ire</HI> de&s;ired to &s;peake with him. And now againe beganne <HI>De&s;ire</HI> to be doubt|full, how, and in what manner he &s;hould &s;peake to his Lord and Ma&s;ter. When <HI>De&s;ire of God</HI> comming to him tould him, he had acuained his Ma&s;ter with his beingthere, and therefore
<PB N="145" REF="73">badde him goe in, and he would &s;tay for him there. Now <HI>De&s;ire</HI> beganne with exceeding great reuerence to enter the hou&s;e, and goe into the haule, who &s;o &s;one as he e&s;pied his Lord &amp; Ma&s;ter, he fell pro&s;trate on the ground, and beganne to weepe, not pre&s;uming to lift vp either his head or eyes. For he had not forgot, what an enemy he had beene &s;ometime to his Ma&s;ter, with how many wronges and iniuries he had offended him, how ill and vnreuerently he had &s;ometimes &s;poken of him, with the re|me~brance hereof, he was not able to &s;peake, but &s;tode weeping and &s;ighing, &s;eing him&s;elfe pre|&s;ent before the Maje&s;ty of him he had &s;o high|ly offended. OVR L. What meaneth this wee|ping? What doe&s;t thou here? &s;peake&s;t thou nothing? ri&s;e and &s;ay what thou woulde&s;t haue. DE. What may I pre&s;ume to &s;peake <HI>O Lord,</HI> in pre&s;ence of thy Maje&s;ty, I acknowledge my &s;elfe vnworthy, to open my vncleane mouth in the pre&s;ence of &s;uch a Lord, admit me to be &s;i|lent, and to &s;tand &s;till and &s;igh, and to bewaile and lament my owne iniquity. OVR LORD. Wherefore then art thou come hither. DE. I of my &s;elfe neuer came in hither, for I hold my &s;elfe vnworthy to abide in thy hou&s;e, much le&s;&s;e worthy to enter thy chamber. OVR LORD. Who then brought thee hither? DE. Thy &s;elfe &s;weete Lord, thou ha&s;t drawen
<PB N="146" REF="74">me, thou ha&s;t made me cry, and call vpon thee, thou ha&s;t commanded thy gates to be opened, and that I &s;hould be brought in hither to thee. My &s;elfe am wholy ignorant of the cau&s;e here|of, or what hath moued thee to it, or what neede thou ha&s;t of me. For I hold in more &s;ufficient, then that &s;o vnworthy a wreatch a I am, &s;hold be thought worthy to be the meane&s;t of thy &s;erua~ts, &amp; a bondman &amp; &s;laue in this thy hou&s;e: although of my &s;elfe I cannot de&s;erue that, and hould my &s;elfe vnworthy to obteyne it. But con&s;idering that it hath plea&s;ed thee to call me, and that it plea&s;eth thee, I &s;hall abide with thee, and &s;peake to thee: open thou O <HI>Lord</HI> I be|&s;eech thee my lippes, and teach me what I &s;hall &s;ay in thy pre&s;ence. Plant in mee thy &s;pirit of feare and reuerence, that thy Maje&s;ty be not offended by me, or vnreuerendly wor&s;hipped, or vnhonorably entreated from this time fore|warde of&s;o vile a &s;inner as I acknowledge my &s;elfe. For it cannot be done without offering thee great iniurie. And rather had I kil my &s;elfe then to offer contempt, ignominie or di&s;grace to thy Maje&s;ty. For therby &s;hold I offer great iniury and contempt to all Angels, and Arch|angels, and the whole fellow&s;hippe of heauen, who with &s;o great reuerence, and feruour doe loue and honor thee. Teach me therefore O lord, what I &s;hal &s;ay or do to thee. For I wholy
<PB N="147" REF="74">re&s;igne my &s;elf into thy hands. Grant me there|fore &s;weete Lord the &s;pirit of <HI>Humilitie</HI> where|with I may &s;erue thee, thy hou&s;e &amp; all thy &s;er|ua~ts; let my &s;eruice be acceptable to thee, &amp; be thou O Lord honored and glorified in me.</P>
</DIV2>
<DIV2 N="14" TYPE="chapter">
<HEAD><HI>CHAPTER 14.</HI> How our Lord in&s;tructed De&s;ire, how he &s;hould behaue him&s;elfe.</HEAD>
<P>OVR LO. Ri&s;e upandlay away all man|ner of feare. If he~ceforth thou wilt be ver|tuous and Godly, &amp; behaue thy &s;elfe according to thy duety: I will neuer reme~ber the wrongs and iniuries thou ha&s;t done me. And that thou maye&s;t henceforth amend and become, better, I will deliuer thee only foure wordes, which if thou remember, and wilt only ob&s;erue, &s;hall be very beneficiall &amp; auaileable to thee. The fir&s;t two are. <HI>I and Thou.</HI> The other two. A <HI>Seruant &amp; a King.</HI> The&s;e foure wordes when thou can&s;t well exerci&s;e and practize, will bring thee to great perfection &amp; purity of hart: and will de|fend &amp; deliuer thee from all perturbatio~s of the minde, &amp; will in&s;truct thee to liue peaceably &amp; friendly, &amp;conuer&s;e quietly with al men. DE. Vout&s;afe O lord to direct me, how I may exer|ci&s;e the&s;e foure words. OVR LO. Thou mai&s;t refer all thy exerci&s;es to the&s;e foure words, for they are of great importace, &amp; whole volumes might be written of them alone, which of them
<PB N="148" REF="75">&s;elues were &s;ufficient to teach great perfection. Therefore when thou e&s;olue&s;t to &s;peake vnto me, if then thou finde thy &s;elf could, di&s;tracted, or di&s;conte~ted for any thing that thou art co~man|ded, thinke to thy &s;elfe that with the&s;e wordes alone I &s;peake to thee. <HI>I &amp; Thou.</HI> And then ex|clude from thy minde the whole world, &amp; what &s;oeuer thou ha&s;t heard or &s;eene in thy life, ima|gining that none, but I <HI>I Thou</HI> are left in this world. The other two wordes, <HI>Seruant &amp; King,</HI> will auaile thee in liuing with thy Brothers in this Hou&s;e. The fir&s;t, wherof <HI>Seruant</HI> will profit thee herein, that thou mai&s;t imagine thy &s;elfe, the &s;eruant of all men, whereby thou &s;halt attayne, <HI>Humilitie and Obedience.</HI> The other word <HI>King,</HI> will &s;erue thee to remember that thou art King and commander ouer thy &s;elfe. For &s;uch Kings doe I enritch &amp; loade with al trea&s;ures. For this time be conte~t with this directio~, &amp; haue peace &amp; quietnes, &amp; &s;o depart. DE. Wherefore O <HI>Lord</HI> doe&s;t thou bidde me depart, &amp; wilt that I for&s;ake thy pre&s;ence? OVR LO. Thinke not thy &s;elfe worthy to abide alwaies with me, but at &s;uch times only as I wil, &amp; &s;hal &s;end for thee, and then take thou heede that thou doe not of|fend in vaineglory or pre&s;umption. For accor|ding to my owne will &amp; plea&s;ure I wil cal thee. But before thou goe hence, leaue thy hart here with me, that wher&s;oeuer thou co~uer&s;e thy bet|ter
<PB N="149" REF="75">part may be with me. DE. Mo&s;t willingly &s;weet Lord, I co~mit my hart to thy protection. OVR LO. I receaue it from thy willing offer, &amp; yet thinke not alwaies that I will doe &s;o, for &s;ometimes for thy benefit, &amp; to humble thee I wil refu&s;e to keep it. And this one thing I wold not haue thee ignorant of, which peraduenture is vnknowne to thee; That the greater comfort &amp; con&s;olation I de&s;ire to &s;end my friends: with the more troules, aduer&s;ities, &amp; afflictions, I v&s;e tovi&s;it them. But if thou wilt leaue <HI>Good wil</HI> thy dogge herewith me, he may continually remayne in my pre&s;ence, &amp; &s;hal neuer goe from me, except thou thy &s;elfe wilt, yet neuerthele&s;&s;e daylie mu&s;t thou commend him to mee. DE. Why is it needeful that I commend him to thee daylie? &s;ufficeth it not that I doe it once. OVR LORD. No, and not for feare, lea&s;t I &s;hould forget thee; but le&s;t thou thy &s;elfe proue vn|mindefull of me, and that thou maye&s;t haue oc|ca&s;ion euer to remember and haue mee in thy minde, whereby I may gratifie and rewarde thee daylie, and according to thy nece&s;&s;ity and want may helpe and &s;uccour thee. For nothing it is to me whither thou be mindefull or vn|mindefull of me. DE. I yeeld thee mo&s;t humble thankes my &s;weete Lord and Ma&s;ter. Long &s;ince haue I proued thy goodnes and bene|uolence, for which thou worke&s;t all thinges in
<PB N="150" REF="76">vs only for our &s;aluation and benefit.</P>
</DIV2>
<DIV2 N="15" TYPE="chapter">
<HEAD><HI>CHAPTER. 15.</HI> How De&s;ire put in practi&s;e the &s;cure wordes of his Lord and Master, and what benefit he receaued thereby.</HEAD>
<P>THus <HI>De&s;ire</HI> departing out, of the chamber of his Lord and Ma&s;ter, &amp; leauing his hart &s;till behinde with him; he found <HI>De&s;ire of God</HI> without the dore, expecting his comming, to whome he &s;aid. What ha&s;t thou done &s;o long time within? thinke&s;t thou my Lord &amp; Ma&s;ter, taketh delight &amp; is plea&s;ed with many wordes? beleeue me, thou &s;halt &s;ometime preuaile more with him, with one word then with a hundered. DE. Me thinketh I haue &s;tayed to &s;hort a time with him. DE. OF GOD. Now viewe &amp; con|&s;ider all this hou&s;e, con&s;idering thou art recea|ned in hither. DE. I will goe to my chamber. DE. OF GOD. Goe in the name of God. Now <HI>De&s;ire</HI> did daylie reuolue in his minde the foure wordes, which his Lord &amp; Ma&s;ter had deliue|red him, &amp; oft would &s;ay to him&s;elfe. <HI>I &amp; Theu. Seruant and King.</HI> And when&s;oeuer hee &s;pake them, whither he deuided them, or joyned them yet euer they agreed well togither. For joyning the fir&s;t, which is I. With the third, which is <HI>A Seruant,</HI> he &s;aid to him&s;elf I pronounce them rightly. For, for the loue of my Lord &amp; ma&s;ter. I am a &s;eruant. Then joyning the fir&s;t with the
<PB N="151" REF="76">la&s;t which is a <HI>King.</HI> Sill he &s;emed to pronounce them rightly. For being the &s;eruant of God, he &s;aid he was a <HI>King. For to &s;erue God: that is to raigne.</HI> Againe &s;peaking them an other way &amp; joyning, <HI>King</HI> with <HI>Seruant.</HI> Still they agreed well togither. For the King of heauen to the in|tent he might make me a King, made him&s;elfe a Seruant, and who&s;oeuer will be a King it is ne|ce&s;&s;ary that fir&s;t he make him&s;elfe a Seruant. Thus did <HI>De&s;ire</HI> for his benefit many wayes joyne the&s;e foure wordes togither. For if at any time he were oppre&s;&s;ed with any externall ad|uer&s;ity, pre&s;ently would he &s;ay to him&s;elfe, I nothing regard what men &s;ay or thinke of me, not e&s;teeming whither they honor or co~tenine me. I am a &s;eruant or bondman, &amp; the&s;e things are meete for &s;uch an on. If he felt him&s;elf to be tempted with any voluptuous plea&s;ure, then &s;aid he to him&s;elfe. Be it farre from me, that am a King to become, the &s;alue of filthy vice and plea&s;ure. So vile a &s;eruitude befitteth not my Nobility. Thus receaued <HI>De&s;ire</HI> exceeding be|nefits by the&s;e words: whither he joyned them in order, or placed them contrarily. For both did they que~ch naughty de&s;ires kindled in him &amp; appea&s;ed &amp; mitigated all his adjuer&s;ities. But now co~&s;idering the explication of the&s;e words may be infinit, lea&s;t I &s;eeme to be tedious, I re|fer the re&s;t to the good con&s;ideration of others.</P>
<TRAILER>FINIS.</TRAILER>
</DIV2>
</DIV1>
</BODY>
<BACK>
<DIV1 TYPE="appendix">
<PB N="152" REF="77">
<HEAD>AN APPENDIX, GATHERED out of the worke of <HI>Ludouicus Blotius</HI> an <HI>Abbot,</HI> conteyning briefely, the chiefe matter of the former Dialogue.</HEAD>
<HEAD TYPE="sub">Thirteene &s;hort Precepts, mo&s;t nece&s;&s;arie for all men, that de&s;ire to attaine to the per|fect loue of God.</HEAD>
<P>The fir&s;t. _FOr the loue of thy Sauiour Ie|&s;us Chri&s;t, who &s;uffered mo&s;t bitter torments for thy rede~p|tion, renounce and for&s;ake all &s;en&s;uall delights &amp; plea&s;ures: when&s;oeuer thou woulde&s;t, or de&s;ire&s;t, to heare, &s;ee, &s;mell, ta&s;te, touch, or &s;peake any thing: call to thy remembrance, and thinke that thou art then to obey God, and rea&s;on &s;peaking in thee, and not thy &s;en&s;uall appetite, which &s;hall moue and &s;tirre thee. Be al&s;o ready, and content to want the delightes of the &s;pirit, according to the plea&s;ure and or|dinance of God. And when&s;oeuer thou art
<PB N="153" REF="77">comforted with an inward &s;weetnes, and con|&s;olation; re&s;t not therein, but beware thou a|bu&s;e it not according to thy owne proper plea|&s;ure.</P>
<P N="2">2. Keepe euer a mo&s;t carefull watch ouer thy &s;eeing, hearing, and ouer thy &s;peaking, that they decline not after vnlawfull, vaine and vn|profitable thinges. Thou mu&s;t be mo&s;t vigi|lant, and warie in &s;peaking, that thou vtter not more wordes, or in other manner, then &s;hal be|&s;eeme thee. Let all thy talke be &s;hort, plaine, and voide of &s;trife and contention. Gouerne, and order carefully, all parts of thy body. A|uoide, and &s;hunne immoderate laughter, and all leuitie, and wantonne&s;&s;e in thy behauiour.</P>
<P N="3">3. Loue not any creature with an inordinate affection, but mortifie thy &s;elfe to all tran&s;ito|ry things, and carry a minde free from &s;uch al|lurements: for in &s;uch a freedome is conteyned the mo&s;t true, and plea&s;ant life.</P>
<P N="4">4. Kill and de&s;troy with all po&s;&s;ible care, through a full re&s;ignation and deniall of thy &s;elfe: all thy pa&s;&s;ions, and finfull affections, and e&s;peciall thy &s;tubborne and ob&s;tinate &s;elf-will. Loue only before all thinges, the holie will of God, and &s;till wi&s;h that it may be done, and to that, wholy &s;ubmit thy &s;elfe, in &s;uch &s;ort, that what&s;oeuer God will haue done, that &s;ame thou &s;halt de&s;ire al&s;o. In all things, and at all
<PB N="154" REF="78">all times, preferre the pray&s;e &amp; honor of God, before thy owne profit &amp; priuate commodity.</P>
<P N="5">5. In all thinges that &s;hall happen, wi&s;ely ex|pect the prouidence of God, &amp; carefully com|mit thy &s;elfe and all thine to him. Knowing that he hath a care ouer thee. All aduer&s;ity and tri|bulation (be it internall or externall) take as &s;ent from the hand of God. Beleeuing for cer|tayne that he doth &s;ende it thee, for thy farther benefit and good of thy &s;oule. Beare it there|fore patiently euen to the la&s;t houre, giuing thankes to God, and continually pray&s;ing him, through who&s;e permi&s;&s;ion and ordinance &s;uch a thing is befalne thee. And be not troubled or moued for any iniury, that &s;nall be offered to thee, nor impatiently complaine thereof to any man: but calling to remembrance thy owne iniquity and ingratitude, hould thy &s;elfe worthy of all men to be reprehended, blamed, contemned, vexed, &s;corned, and trode on. Why &s;houlde&s;t thou be dejected for the words of men, or for any thing that thou can&s;t &s;uffer from them? Giue men leaue to thinke &amp; &s;peake their ple&s;ures of thee, let the world, and the Diuell rage as they will at thee, con&s;idering it commeth but by Gods permi&s;&s;ion. Doe thou in the meane time, leane wholy to our LORD IESVS, and &s;ilently keepe peace continual|ly in thy hart. If thou doe&s;t truly con&s;ider, how
<PB N="155" REF="78">&s;hamefull and &s;harpe thinges, thy Creator and Redeemer IESVSCHRIST hath &s;uffe|red for thee, mo&s;t patiently thou woulde&s;t en|dure any affliction what&s;oeuer.</P>
<P N="6">6. Imagine thy &s;elf more ba&s;e, &amp; abject, than any other creature remembring thy owne vile|ne&s;&s;e, and what thy &s;innes haue de&s;erued. If thou thinke any good of thy &s;elfe con&s;ide|ring thou ha&s;t none, if vnwi&s;ely thou like thy owne doinges and conceaue well of them, herein thou &s;hewe&s;t thy exceeding pride, for which, thou &s;tinke&s;t before the face of God. What good &s;oeuer is in thee, it is Gods, and not thine, beware therefore in v&s;urping that, which appertayneth to God. Neither boa&s;t thereof, or &s;ecke to plea&s;e thy &s;elfe: in that vvhich &s;hall &s;o highly di&s;plea&s;e almightie God. Farther, think thy &s;elfe vnworthy of the &s;malle&s;t benefitte it &s;hall plea&s;e God to be&s;towe on thee.</P>
<P N="7">7 Obey and followe in all lawfull thinges, the will and commandement of other men, thy owne &s;elfe-will clearely abandoned, and all appetites and de&s;ires vanqui&s;hed and ouer|come. Mo&s;t readely &s;ubmit thy &s;elfe to Obe|dience, for nothing is more acceptable to God then Obedience: and di&s;obedience the thing which God mo&s;t hateth.</P>
<P N="8">8 Content thy &s;elfe with fewe and &s;imple thinges, following the example of our Sauiour
<PB N="156" REF="79">Chri&s;t and his mo&s;t ble&s;&s;ed Mother. Delight neither in vaine apparell, nor gluttenous diet. But thinke with thy &s;elfe, how vnthankfull thou &s;houlde&s;t be, if thou &s;houlde&s;t murmur for thy meate, not being curiou&s;ly dre&s;&s;ed; con&s;idering our Sauiour IESVS CHRIST, was offered for thy &s;ake, mo&s;t bitter gall and vinegre to drinke. If thou want &s;ometime e|uen tho&s;e thinges which are needefull for thee, yet euer honour God, and put thy tru&s;t and confidence in him, who neuer for&s;aketh tho&s;e that &s;erue him, although for their greater good he &s;uffer them &s;ometime to want.</P>
<P N="9">9 Loue all men &s;incerely, as thy brothers and &s;i&s;ters, repre&s;enting the Image of GOD thy Creator: Hartely wi&s;h the good of all men. Shewe to all men, e&s;pecially to thy enemies, and per&s;ecutors, a milde, and gentle counte|nance, and behauiour, and let all thy wordes be ciuill to them,: &s;uppre&s;&s;ing in thy &s;elfe all bitterne&s;&s;e of hart, with a mildne&s;&s;e, and &s;weet|ne&s;&s;e of holy Charity. Be euer ready to com|fort, and aide all men in nece&s;&s;ity. Haue pit|tie and compa&s;&s;ion vpon all in mi&s;ery, rejoyce at other mens vertues, as at thy owne: and take other mens mi&s;eries, as the mi&s;ery of thy &s;elfe, imagining thou art &s;ubject to as much as any other.</P>
<P N="10">10 Contemne no man; bani&s;h from thy hart,
<PB N="157" REF="79">with all po&s;&s;ible diligence, euill &s;u&s;pition, and ra&s;h judgment. Inure thy &s;elfe to thinke well of all men. Interpret with &s;implicity the &s;ay|ings, and doings of others to the be&s;t. Pre|ferre plainely all other men before thy &s;elfe. Imagine thou art more vile, and ingrate, then any other man liuing. Say to thy &s;elfe, &s;ay al&s;o to GOD, I am vnworthy to treade vp|pon the earth. Oh that thou didde&s;t vnder|&s;tand how willingly thou oughte&s;t vndertake all &s;eruile vvorkes for Gods &s;ake: how glad|ly thou &s;houlde&s;t obey and &s;erue other for him. For our Lord and Redeemer IESVS CHRIST, him&s;elfe being made man, be|came a &s;eruant, and with humility wa&s;hed the feete of his Di&s;ciples.</P>
<P N="11">11. Labour to plea&s;e God, rather then men, and wi&s;h rather to be de&s;pi&s;ed then honoured.</P>
<P N="12">12 Feede and nouri&s;h in thy &s;elfe holy and vertuous thoughtes, and euery where attende the pre&s;ence of GOD, hauing thy thoughts continually fixed on him, whether thou feele &s;en&s;ible deuotion or no. The&s;e wordes fol|lowing, being oft thought vpon, will helpe greatly to recollect thy &s;pirittes, and reue|rendly to thinke on the pre&s;ence of GOD. O <HI>Lord God, thou art euer pre&s;ent to aide and a&s;|&s;i&s;t me; thou inhabite&s;t and art abiding in the &s;e|crets of my &s;oule.</HI></P>
<P N="13"><PB N="158" REF="80"> 13. What&s;oeuer is not of god, regard it not, nor thinke that it doth appertaine to thee, &s;o may|e&s;t thou with a quiet minde attend his &s;eruice; <HI>And one thing is nece&s;&s;ary,</HI> which to obtayne, thou mu&s;t labour, endeuour, and doe vvhat lyeth in thy power, yet &s;o, that thou who|lie di&s;tru&s;t thy &s;elfe, and all thou can&s;t doe, but haue all thy confidence in God alone, in his mercy and goodne&s;&s;e, and in the helpe and a&s;|&s;i&s;tance of his heauenly grace. For without God, thou can&s;t doe nothing but &s;inne. Reade ouer againe, and againe, the&s;e &s;hort rules, and examine thy life and behauiour by them.</P>
</DIV1>
<DIV1 TYPE="table of contents">
<HEAD>AN INDEX OF THE CHAP|ters of this Dialogue, diuided into three partes.</HEAD>
<DIV2 N="1" TYPE="part">
<LIST>
<ITEM>THE fir&s;t Chapter. <HI>De&s;ire</HI> goeth on Pil|grimage.</ITEM>
<ITEM>2. He in&s;tructeth &s;piritual Pa&s;tors &amp; Prelats.</ITEM>
<ITEM>3. Of the &s;ame Argument.</ITEM>
<ITEM>4. Of the hou&s;e of <HI>Humility.</HI></ITEM>
<ITEM>5. How <HI>Vaine-glory</HI> watcheth at the gates.</ITEM>
<ITEM>6. By what meanes we may attaine to <HI>Humi|lity.</HI></ITEM>
<ITEM>7. Of the purpo&s;e of <HI>Humility,</HI> and her con|ference with <HI>De&s;ire.</HI></ITEM>
<ITEM>8. Humility continueth her di&s;cour&s;e.</ITEM>
<ITEM>9. Humility &s;till continueth her &s;peach, and teacheth how to fight again&s;t &s;inne.</ITEM>
<PB N="159" REF="80">
<ITEM>10. Of concupi&s;cence of the fle&s;h.</ITEM>
<ITEM>11. Of concupi&s;cence of the eyes, and pride of life.</ITEM>
<ITEM>12. How the other wicked Maydens may be ouercome.</ITEM>
<ITEM>13. All malice may be expelled.</ITEM>
<ITEM>14. Of other exerci&s;es of Humility.</ITEM>
<ITEM>15. Of the vertues that be daughters to Hu|mility.</ITEM>
<ITEM>16. How all creatures be good, and yet none is good but God.</ITEM>
<ITEM>17. Of the &s;ame Argument.</ITEM>
<ITEM>18. Of the manners &amp; co~ditions of Simplicity</ITEM>
<ITEM>19. How purity of hart, and Innocency might be pre&s;erued.</ITEM>
<ITEM>20. Of Pouerty.</ITEM>
<ITEM>21. Of Obedience.</ITEM>
<ITEM>22. Of Cha&s;tity.</ITEM>
<ITEM>23. The Conclu&s;ion of the fir&s;t part.</ITEM>
</LIST>
</DIV2>
<DIV2 N="2" TYPE="part">
<HEAD>THE SECOND PART.</HEAD>
<LIST>
<ITEM>1. Of Patience.</ITEM>
<ITEM>2. How God may be known by his cretures.</ITEM>
</LIST>
</DIV2>
<DIV2 N="3" TYPE="part">
<HEAD>THE THIRD PART.</HEAD>
<LIST>
<ITEM>1. Of the probation and exerci&s;e of the Loue of God.</ITEM>
<ITEM>2. Of the loue of our Neighbour.</ITEM>
<ITEM>3. Of the Loue of God, &amp; of our Neighbour, and of an other degree of loue, and of the function thereof.</ITEM>
<PB N="160" REF="81">
<ITEM>4. Of the &s;ame.</ITEM>
<ITEM>5. Of two other Purpo&s;s of the <HI>Loue of God,</HI> to wit, to de&s;ire nothing, and to thinke vpon nothing.</ITEM>
<ITEM>6. Of the &s;ame, and of prayer al&s;o.</ITEM>
<ITEM>7. Of the office of the <HI>Loue of God</HI> in an o|ther degree, &amp; a continuation of that, which he beganne of the manner of praying.</ITEM>
<ITEM>8. Of the third degree of Loue.</ITEM>
<ITEM>9. Of tho&s;e thinges which the <HI>Loue of God</HI> hateth.</ITEM>
<ITEM>10. How the Loue of God brought de&s;ire in|to the hou&s;e.</ITEM>
<ITEM>11. How De&s;ire of God prepared De&s;ire to eate of the fruit he gaue him.</ITEM>
<ITEM>12. How De&s;ire learned to &s;ing.</ITEM>
<ITEM>13. How De&s;ire of God brought De&s;ire into the chamber of his Lord and Ma&s;ter, and of the manner of praying.</ITEM>
<ITEM>14. How our Lord gaue De&s;ire good directi|ons, to gouerne him &s;elfe well.</ITEM>
<ITEM>15. De&s;ire exerci&s;ed the foure wordes, which our Lord taught him, and what benefit hee reaped thereby.</ITEM>
</LIST>
<TRAILER>FINIS.</TRAILER>
<PB REF="81">
</DIV2>
</DIV1>
</BACK>
</TEXT>
</EEBO>
</ETS>
