Wills! how many have our eyes seen, that, after most careful choice of trusty guardians, have had their children and goods so disposed, as if the parent's soul could return to see it, I doubt whether it could be happy! How rare is that man, that prefers not himself to his dear friend! profit; to truth! that will take no vantage of the impossibility of account! Whatever, therefore, men either shew or promise, happy is that man, that may be his own auditor, supervisor, executor.

As you love God and yourself, be not afraid of being happy too soon. I am not worthy to give so bold advice: let the wise man of Sirach speak for me: "Do good before thou die; and, according to thine ability, stretch out thy hands, and give: Defraud not thyself of thy good day; and let not the portion of thy good desires overpass thee: shalt thou not leave thy travails to another, and thy labours to them that will divide thine heritage?" Or, let a wiser than he, Solomon: Say not, To morrow, I will give, if now thou have it: for thou knowest not what a day will bring forth.

It hath been an old rule of liberality, He gives twice, that gives quickly; whereas slow benefits argue uncheerfulness, and lose their worth. Who lingers his receipts, is condemned as unthrifty. He, that knoweth both, saith, It is better to give, than to receive. If we be of the same spirit, why are we hasty in the worse, and slack in the better?

Suffer you yourself, therefore, good Sir, for God's sake, for the Gospel's sake, for the Church's sake, for your soul's sake, to be stirred up by these poor lines, to a resolute and speedy performing of your worthy intentions: and take this as a loving invitation sent from heaven, by an unworthy messenger. You cannot deliberate long of fit objects for your beneficence; except it be more for multitude, than want: the streets, yea the world is full. How doth Lazarus lie at every door! How many sons of the Prophets, in their meanly-provided Colleges, may say, not, Mors in olla but fames! How many Churches may justly plead that, which our Saviour bade his disciples, The Lord hath need! And, if this infinite store hath made your choice doubtful, how easy were it to shew you, wherein you might oblige the whole Church of God to you, and make your memorial both eternal and blessed; or, if you would rather, the whole Commonwealth?

But now I find myself too bold and too busy, in thus looking to particularities. God shall direct you; and, if you follow him, shall crown you. Howsoever, if good be done, and that betimes; he hath what he desired, and your soul shall have more than you can desire. The success of my weak, yet hearty counsel, shall make me as rich, as God hath made you, with all your abundance. That God bless it to you, and make both our reckonings cheerful in the day of our common audit.

EPISTLE VIII.

TO-E. B.

DEDICATED TO SIR GEORGE GORING.

Remedies against Dulness and Heartlessness in our Callings; and Encouragements to Cheerfulness in Labour.

It falls out not seldom, if we may measure all by one, that the mind, overlaid with work, grows dull and heavy; and now doth nothing, because it hath done too much. Over-lavish expence of spirits hath left it heartless: as the best vessel, with much motion and vent, becomes flat and dreggish.

And not fewer, of more weak temper, discourage themselves with the difficulty of what they must do. Some travellers have more shrunk at the map, than at the way.

Betwixt both, how many sit still with their hands folded, and wish they knew how to be rid of time! If this evil be not cured, we become miserable losers, both of good hours and of good parts.

In these mental diseases, empyrics are the best physicians. I prescribe you nothing, but out of feeling.

If you will avoid the first, moderate your own vehemency. Suffer not yourself to do all you could do. Rise ever from your desk, not without an appetite. The best horse will tire soonest, if the reins lie ever loose in his neck. Restraints, in these cases, are encouragements: obtain therefore of yourself to defer, and take new days. How much better is it, to refresh yourself with many competent meals, than to buy one day's gluttony, with the fast of many! And, if it be hard to call off the mind in the midst of a fair and likely fight, know, that all our ease and safety begins at the command of ourselves: he can never task himself well, that cannot favour himself. Persuade your heart, that perfection comes by leisure; and no excellent thing is done at once: the rising and setting of many suns, which you think slackens your work, in truth ripens it. That gourd, which came up in a night, withered in a day; whereas those plants, which abide age, rise slowly. Indeed, where the heart is unwilling, prorogation hinders: what I list not to do this day, I loath the next; but where is no want of desire, delay doth but sharpen the stomach. That, which we do unwillingly leave, we long to undertake: and the more our affection is, the greater our intention, and the better our performance. To take occasion by the foretop, is no small point

of wisdom; but, to make time, which is wild and fugitive, tame and pliable to our purposes, is the greatest improvement of a man. All times serve him, which hath the rule of himself.

If the second, think seriously of the condition of your being. It is that, we were made for: the bird, to fly; and man, to labour. What do we here, if we repine at our work? We had not been, but that we might be still busy: if not in this task we dislike; yet, in some other, of no less toil. There is no act, that hath not his labour; which varies in measure, according to the will of the doer. This, which you complain of, hath been undertaken by others, not with facility only, but with pleasure; and what you choose for ease, hath been abhorred of others, as tedious. All difficulty is not so much in the work, as in the agent. To set the mind on the rack of a long meditation, you say, is a torment: to follow the swift foot of your hound all day long, hath no weariness: what would you say of him, that finds better game in his study, than you in the field; and would account your disport, his punishment? Such there are, though you doubt and wonder. Never think to detract from your business, but add to your will. It is the policy of our great enemy, to drive us with these fears, from that he foresees would grow profitable: like as some inhospitable savages make fearful delusions by sorcery upon the shore, to frighten strangers from landing. Where you find, therefore, motions of resistance, awaken your courage the more; and know, there is some good that appears not. Vain endeavours find no opposition. All crosses imply a secret commodity: resolve then to will, because you begin not to will; and either oppose yourself, as Satan opposes you, or else you do nothing. We pay no price to God for any good thing, but labour: if we higgle in that, we are worthy to lose our bargain. It is an invaluable gain, that we may make in this traffic: for God is bountiful, as well as just; and, when he sees true endeavour, doth not only sell, but give; whereas idleness neither gets nor saves nothing is either more fruitless of good, or more fruitful of evil; for we do ill while we do nothing, and lose while we gain not. The sluggard is senseless; and so much more desperate, because he cannot complain. But, though he feel it not, nothing is more precious than time, or that shall abide a reckoning more strict and fearful: yea, this is the measure of all our actions, which if it were not abused, our accounts could not be but even with God: so God esteems it, whatever our price be, that he plagues the loss of a short time, with a revenge beyond all times. Hours have wings, and every moment fly up to the Author of Time, and carry news of our usage: all our prayers cannot entreat one of them, either to return, or slacken his pace: the mis-spence of every minute is a new record against us in heaven. Sure, if we thought thus, we

would dismiss them with better reports; and not suffer them, either to go away empty, or laden with dangerous intelligence. How happy is it, that every hour should convey up, not only the message, but the fruits of good; and stay with the Ancient of Days, to speak for us before his glorious throne! Know this, and I shall take no care for your pains, nor you for pastime. None of our profitable labours shall be transient; but, even when we have forgotten them, shall welcome us, into joy: we think we have left them behind us; but they are forwarder than our souls, and expect us where we should be. And, if there were no crown for these toils; yet, without future respects, there is a tediousness in doing nothing. To man especially, motion is natural: there is neither mind, nor eye, nor joint which moveth not; and, as company makes a way short, hours never go away so merrily, as in the fellowship of work. How did that industrious heathen draw out water by night, and knowledge by day; and thought both short: ever labouring, only that he might labour! Certainly, if idleness were enacted by authority, there would not want some, which would pay their mulct, that they might work: and those spirits are likest to heaven, which move always; and the freest from those corruptions, which are incident to nature. The running stream cleanseth itself; whereas, standing ponds breed weeds and mud. These meditations must hearten us to that we must do. While we are cheerful, our labours shall strive, whether to yield us more comfort, or others more profit.

EPISTLE IX.

TO SIR JOHN HARRINGTON.

DISCUSSING THIS QUESTION:

Whether a Man and Wife, after some Years mutual and loving fruition of each other, may, upon consent, whether for secular or religious causes, vow and perform a perpetual separation from each other's bed, and absolutely renounce all carnal knowledge of each other for ever.

I WISH not myself any other advocate, nor you any other adversary, than St. Paul; who never gave, I speak boldly, a direct precept, if not in this.

His express charge, whereupon I insisted, is, Defraud not one another: except with consent for a time, that you may give yourselves to fasting and prayer: and then again come together, that Satan tempt you not for your incontinency. Every word, if you weigh it well, opposes your part, and pleads for

mine. By consent of all divines, ancient and modern, defrauding is refraining from matrimonial conversation: see what a word the Spirit of God hath chosen for this abstinence; never but taken in ill part. "But there is no fraud in consent; as Chrysostom, Athanasius, Theophylact, expound it :" true; therefore St. Paul adds, unless with consent; that I may omit to say, that, in saying unless with consent, he implies, both that there may be a defrauding without it, and with consent a defrauding but not unlawful. But see what he adds, for a time: consent cannot make this defrauding lawful, except it be temporary: no defrauding, without consent; no consent, for a perpetuity. "How long then, and wherefore?" not for every cause; not for any length of time: but only for a while, and for devotion, ut vacetis, &c. Not that you may pray only, as Chrysostom notes justly; but that you might give yourselves to prayer. In our marriage society, saith he against that paradox of Jerome, we may pray; and woe to us, if we do not: but we cannot vacare orationi. "But we are bidden to pray continually:" yet not, I hope, ever to fast and pray. Mark how the Apostle adds, that you may give yourselves to fasting and prayer. It is solemn exercise, which the Apostle here intends: such as is joined with fasting and external humiliation; wherein all earthly comforts must be forborne. "But what if a man list to task himself continually, and will be always painfully devout; may he then ever abstain?" No: Let them meet together again, saith the Apostle: not as a toleration, but as a charge. But what if they both can live safely, thus severed?" This is more than they can undertake: there is danger, saith our Apostle, in this abstinence, lest Satan tempt you for your incontinency. What can be more plain? Neither may the married refrain this conversation, without consent; neither may they, with consent, refrain it for ever.

What can you now urge us with, but the examples and sentences of some ancients?

Let this stand evicted for the true and necessary sense of the Apostle; and what is this, but to lay men in the balance with God? I see and confess, how much some of the Fathers admired Virginity; so far, that there wanted not some, which both detested marriage as vicious, and would force a single life upon marriage, as commendable: whose authority should move me, if I saw not some of them opposite to others, and others no less to St. Paul himself. How oft doth St. Austin redouble that rule, and importunately urge it to his Ecdicia, in that serious Epistle; That, without consent, the continence of the married cannot be warrantable! teaching her, (from these words of St. Paul, which he charges her, in the contrary practice, not to have read, heard, or marked) that if her husband should contain, and she would not, he were bound to pay her the debt of