on
of that kind of dramatical poetry, what is it else, but as we have said?

VI. How clearly doth it appear unto thee, that no other course of thy
life could fit a true philosopher's practice better, than this very
course, that thou art now already in?

VII. A branch cut off from the continuity of that which was next unto
it, must needs be cut off from the whole tree: so a man that is divided
from another man, is divided from the whole society. A branch is cut off
by another, but he that hates and is averse, cuts himself off from his
neighbour, and knows not that at the same time he divides himself from
the whole body, or corporation. But herein is the gift and mercy of God,
the Author of this society, in that, once cut off we may grow together
and become part of the whole again. But if this happen often the misery
is that the further a man is run in this division, the harder he is to
be reunited and restored again: and however the branch which, once cut
of afterwards was graffed in, gardeners can tell you is not like that
which sprouted together at first, and still continued in the unity of
the body.

VIII. To grow together like fellow branches in matter of good
correspondence and affection; but not in matter of opinions. They that
shall oppose thee in thy right courses, as it is not in their power to
divert thee from thy good action, so neither let it be to divert thee
from thy good affection towards them. But be it thy care to keep thyself
constant in both; both in a right judgment and action, and in true
meekness towards them, that either shall do their endeavour to hinder
thee, or at least will be displeased with thee for what thou hast done.
For to fail in either (either in the one to give over for fear, or in
the other to forsake thy natural affection towards him, who by nature is
both thy friend and thy kinsman) is equally base, and much savouring of
the disposition of a cowardly fugitive soldier.

IX. It is not possible that any nature should be inferior unto art,
since that all arts imitate nature. If this be so; that the most perfect
and general nature of all natures should in her operation come short of
the skill of arts, is most improbable. Now common is it to all arts, to
make that which is worse for the better's sake. Much more then doth the
common nature do the same. Hence is the first ground of justice. From
justice all other virtues have their existence. For justice cannot be
preserved, if either w