As for worldly matters, his love and esteem to them was so little, as no man can more ambitiously seek, than he did earnestly endeavour the resignation of an Ecclesiastical dignity, which he was possessor of. But God permitted not the accomplishment of this desire, having ordained him his instrument for re-edifying of the Church belonging thereunto, that had lain ruinated almost twenty years. The reparation whereof, having been uneffectually attempted by public collections, was in the end by his own and some few others' private free-will-offerings successfully effected. With the remembrance whereof, as of an especial good work, when a friend went about to comfort him on his death-bed, he made answer, 66 It is a good work, if it be sprinkled with the blood of Christ:" otherwise than in this respect he could find nothing to glory or comfort himself with, neither in this nor in any other thing.

And these are but a few of many that might be said, which we have chosen to premise as a glance to some parts of the ensuing book, and for an example to the Reader.

We conclude all with his own Motto, with which he used to conclude all things that might seem to tend any way to his own honour,

"Less than the least of God's mercies."

[NICHOLAS FERRAR.]

LORD, MY FIRST FRUITS PRESENT THEMSELVES TO THEE;
YET NOT MINE NEITHER FOR FROM THEE THEY CAME,
AND MUST RETURN. ACCEPT OF THEM AND ME,
AND MAKE US STRIVE, WHO SHALL SING BEST THY NAME.
TURN THEIR EYES HITHER, WHO SHALL MAKE A GAIN:
THEIRS, WHO SHALL HURT THEMSELVES OR ME, REFRAIN.

PERIRRHANTERIUM.

THOU, whose sweet youth and early hopes enhance
Thy rate and price, and mark thee for a treasure,
Hearken unto a Verser, who may chance
Rhyme thee to good, and make a bait of pleasure;
A verse may find him, who a sermon flies,
And turn delight into a sacrifice.

Beware of lust; it doth pollute and foul
Whom God in Baptism wash'd with his own blood:
It blots the lesson written in thy soul;

The holy lines cannot be understood.

How dare those eyes upon a Bible look,

Much less towards God, whose lust is all their book!

B

Wholly abstain, or wed. Thy bounteous Lord
Allows thee choice of paths: take no by-ways;
But gladly welcome what he doth afford;
Not grudging, that thy lust hath bounds and stays.
Continence hath his joy: weigh both; and so
If rottenness have more, let Heaven go.

If God had laid all common, certainly

Man would have been the encloser: but since now God hath impaled us, on the contrary

Man breaks the fence, and every ground will plough. O what were man, might he himself misplace! Sure to be cross he would shift feet and face.

Drink not the third glass, which thou canst not tame,
When once it is within thee; but before
Mayst rule it, as thou list: and pour the shame,
Which it would pour on thee, upon the floor.

It is most just to throw that on the ground,
Which would throw me there, if I keep the round.

He that is drunken may his mother kill
Big with his sister: he hath lost the reins,
Is outlaw'd by himself: all kind of ill
Did with his liquor slide into his veins.

The drunkard forfeits Man, and doth divest
All worldly right, save what he hath by beast.

Shall I, to please another's wine-sprung mind,
Lose all mine own? God hath given me a measure
Short of his can, and body; must I find
A pain in that, wherein he finds a pleasure?
Stay at the third glass: if thou lose thy hold,
Then thou art modest, and the wine grows bold.

If reason move not Gallants, quit the room;
(All in a shipwreck shift their several way)
Let not a common ruin thee intomb:
Be not a beast in courtesy: but stay,

Stay at the third cup, or forego the place.
Wine above all things doth God's stamp deface.

Yet, if thou sin in wine or wantonness,

Boast not thereof; nor make thy shame thy glory. Frailty gets pardon by submissiveness;

But he that boasts, shuts that out of his story: He makes flat war with God, and doth defy With his poor clod of earth the spacious sky.

Take not His name, who made thy mouth, in vain :
It gets thee nothing, and hath no excuse.
Lust and wine plead a pleasure, avarice gain:
But the cheap swearer through his open
sluice
Lets his soul run for nought, as little fearing:
Were I an Epicure, I could bate swearing.

When thou dost tell another's jest, therein
Omit the oaths, which true wit cannot need :
Pick out of tales the mirth, but not the sin.
He pares his apple that will cleanly feed.

Play not away the virtue of that name, [tame.
Which is thy best stake, when griefs make thee

The cheapest sins most dearly punish'd are;
Because to shun them also is so cheap:
For we have wit to mark them, and to spare.
O crumble not away thy soul's fair heap.

If thou wilt die, the gates of hell are broad:
Pride and full sins have made the way a road.