difficultie and incumbrances, that children as well as men, the
simple as soone as the wise, may come unto her. Discretion and
temperance, not force or way-wardnesse are the instruments to bring
him unto her. Socrates (vertues chiefe favorite) that he might the
better walke in the pleasant, naturall, and open path of her
progresses, doth voluntarily and in good, earnest, quit all
compulsion. Shee is the nurse and foster-mother of all humane
[Footnote: Human.] pleasures, who in making them just and upright,
she also makes them sure and sincere. By moderating them, she
keepeth them in ure [Footnote: Practice.] and breath. In limiting
and cutting them off, whom she refuseth; she whets us on toward
those she leaveth unto us; and plenteously leaves us them, which
Nature pleaseth, and like a kind mother giveth us over unto
satietie, if not unto wearisomnesse, unlesse we will peradventure
say that the rule and bridle, which stayeth the drunkard before
drunkennesse, the glutton before surfetting, and the letcher before
the losing of his haire, be the enemies of our pleasures. If common
fortune faile her, it cleerely scapes her; or she cares not for her,
or she frames another unto herselfe, altogether her owne, not so
fleeting nor so rowling. She knoweth the way how to be rich, mightie
and wise, and how to lie in sweet-perfumed beds. She loveth life;
she delights in beautie, in glorie, and in health. But her proper
and particular office is, first to know how to use such goods
temperately, and how to lose them constantly. An office much more
noble than severe, without which all course of life is unnaturall,
turbulent, and deformed, to which one may lawfully joyne those
rocks, those incumbrances, and those hideous monsters. If so it
happen, that his Disciple prove of so different a condition, that he
rather love to give eare to an idle fable than to the report of some
noble voiage, or other notable and wise discourse, when he shall