CHAPTER custome; the like example is alleadged of divers II others. Those which in my time, have attempted to

Of

correct the fashions of the world by new opinions, Repenting reforme the vices of apparance; those of essence they leave untouched if they encrease them not: And their encrease is much to be feared. We willingly protract al other well-doing upon these externall reformations, of lesse cost, and of greater merit; whereby we satisfie good cheape, other naturall consubstantiall and intestine vices. Looke a little into the course of our experience. There is no man (if he listen to himselfe) that doth not discover in himselfe a peculiar forme of his, a swaying forme, which wrestleth against the institution, and against the tempests of passions, which are contrary unto him. As for me, I feele not my selfe much agitated by a shocke; I commonly finde my selfe in mine owne place, as are sluggish and lumpish bodies. If I am not close and neare unto my selfe, I am never farreoff: My debauches or excesses transport me not much. There is nothing extreame and strange: yet have I sound fits and vigorous lusts. The true condemnation, and which toucheth the common fashion of our men, is, that their very retreate is full of corruption and filth: The Idea of their amendment blurred and deformed; their repentance crazed and faultie very neere as much as their sinne. Some, either because they are so fast and naturally joyned unto vice, or through long custome, have lost all sense of its uglinesse. To others (of whose ranke I am) vice is burthenous, but they counter-ballance it with pleasure, or other occasions: and suffer it, and at a certaine rate lend themselves unto it, though basely and viciously. Yet might happily so remote a disproportion of measure bee imagined, where with justice, the pleasure might excuse the offence, as we say of profit. Not onely being accidentall, and out

II

of sinne, as in thefts, but even in the very exercise of CHAPTER it, as in the acquaintance or copulation with women; where the provocation is so violent, and as they say, of sometime unresistable. In a towne of a kinsman of Repenting mine, the other day, being in Armignac, I saw a country man, commonly sirnamed the Theefe: who himselfe reported his life to have beene thus. Being borne a begger, and perceiving, that to get his bread by the sweate of his browe and labour of his hands, would never sufficiently arme him against penury, he resolved to become a Theefe; and that trade had employed all his youth safely, by meanes of his bodily strength: for he ever made up Harvest and Vintage in other mens grounds; but so farre off, and in so great heapes, that it was beyond imagination, one man should in one night carry away so much upon his shoulders and was so carefull to equall the pray, and disperce the mischiefe he did, that the spoile was of lesse import to every particular man.

Hee is now in old yeares indifferently rich; for a man of his condition (Godamercy his trade) which he is not ashamed to confesse openly. And to reconcile himselfe with God, he affirmeth, to be dayly ready, with his gettings, and other good turnes, to satisfie the posterity of those hee hath heretofore wronged or robbed; which if himselfe bee not of abilitie to performe (for hee cannot do all at once) hee will charge his heires withall, according to the knowledge he hath, of the wrongs by him done to every man. By this description, bee it true or false, he respecteth theft, as a dishonest and unlawfull action, and hateth the same: yet lesse then pinching want: He repents but simply; for in regard it was so counterballanced and recompenced, he repenteth not. That is not that habit which incorporates us unto vice, and confirmeth our understanding in it; nor is it that boysterous winde, which by violent

Of

II

Repenting

CHAPTER blastes dazeleth and troubleth our mindes, and at that time confoundes, and overwhelmes both us, our judgement, and all into the power of vice. What I doe, is ordinarily full and compleate, and I march (as wee say) all in one pace: I have not many motions, that hide themselves and slinke away from my reason, or which very neare are not guided by the consent of all my partes, without division, or intestine sedicion : my judgement hath the whole blame, or commendation; and the blame it hath once, it hath ever: for, almost from it's birth, it hath beene one of the same inclination, course and force. And in matters of generall opinions, even from my infancy, I ranged my selfe to the point I was to hold. Some sinnes there are outragious, violent and suddaine; leave we them.

But those other sinnes, so often reassumed, determined and advised upon, whether they be of complexion, or of profession and calling, I cannot conceive how they should so long be settled in one same courage, unlesse the reason and conscience of the sinner were thereunto inwardly privie and constantly willing. And how to imagine or fashion the repentance thereof, which he vanteth, doth some times visit him, seemeth somewhat hard unto me. I am not of Pythagoras Sect, that men take a new soule, when to receive Oracles, they approach the images of Gods, unlesse he would say with all, that it must be a strange one, new, and lent him for the time: our owne, giving so little signe of purification, and cleanesse worthie of that office. They doe altogether against the Stoycall precepts, which appoint us to correct the imperfections and vices we finde in our selves, but withall forbid us to disturbe the quiet of our minde. They make us beleeve, they feele great remorse, and are inwardly much displeased with sinne; but of amendment, correction or inter

II

Repenting

mission, they shew us none. Surely there can be no CHAPTER perfect health; Where the disease is not perfectly remooved. Were repentance put in the scale of the of ballance, it would weigh downe sinne. I finde no humour so easie to be counterfeited as Devotion: If one conforme not his life and conditions to it, her essence is abstruse and concealed, her apparance gentle and stately.

I

For my part, I may in generall wish to be other then I am; I may condemne and mislike my universall forme; I may beseech God to grant me an undefiled reformation, and excuse my naturall weakenesse; but meeseemeth I ought not to tearme this repentance no more then the displeasure of being neither Angell nor Cato. My actions are squared to what I am and [conformed] to my condition. I cannot doe better: And repentance doth not properly concerne what is not in our power; sorrow doth. may imagine infinite dispositions of a higher pitch, and better governed than myne, yet doe I nothing better my faculties; no more then mine arme becommeth stronger, or my wit more excellent, by conceiving some others to be so. If to suppose and wish a more nobler working then ours, might produce the repentance of our owne, wee should then repent us of our most innocent actions: for so much as we judge that in a more excellent nature, they had beene directed with greater perfection and dignity; and our selves would doe the like. When I consult with my age of my youthes proceedings, I finde that commonly, (according to my opinion) I managed them in order. This is all my resistance is able to performe. I flatter not my selfe: in like circumstances, I should ever be the same. It is not a spot, but a whole dye that staynes mee. I acknowledge no repentance, [that] is superficiall, meane and ceremonious. It must touch me on all sides, before I

VOL. III.

с

33

Of

II

Repenting,

I

CHAPTER can terme it repentance. It must pinch my entrailes, and afflict them as deepely and throughly, as God himselfe beholds mee. When in negotiating, many good fortunes have slipt me for want of good discretion, yet did my projects make good choyce, according to the occurrences presented unto them. Their manner is ever to take the easier and surer side. I finde that in my former deliberations, I proceeded, after my rules, discreetely for the subjects state propounded to mee; and in like occasions, would proceede alike a hundred yeares hence. respect not what now it is, but what it was, when I consulted of it. The consequence of all dessignes consists in the seasons; occasions passe, and matters change uncessantly. I have in my time runne into some grosse, absurde and important errors; not for want of good advise, but of good happe. There are secret and indivinable parts in the objects men doe handle; especially in the nature of men and mute conditions, without shew, and sometimes unknowne of the very possessors, produced and stirred up by suddaine occasions. If my wit could neyther finde nor presage them, I am not offended with it; the function thereof is contained within it's owne limits. If the successe [beate] me, and favour the side I refused; there is no remedy; I fall not out with my selfe: I accuse my fortune, not my endevour: that's not called repentance. Phocion had given the Athenians some counsell, which was not followed: the matter, against his opinion, succeeding happily: How now Phocion, (quoth one) art thou pleased the matter hath thrived so well? yea (said hee) and I am glad of it, yet repent not the advise I gave.

When any of my friends come to me for counsell, I bestow it francklie and clearelie, not (as well-nigh all the world doth,) wavering at the hazard of the matter, whereby the contrary of my meaning may