ught of the worlds vaine and deceiuable pleasures, ouertaken
by them with such a dull heauines, and astonishment, as
drunkards the morow after a feast: either so out of taste, that
he will no more, or so glutted, that he can no more: not able
without griefe to speake, or thinke of them. Loe him that
stoutly hath made resistance: he feeles himselfe so weery, and
with this continuall conflict so brused and broken, that either
he is vpon the point to yeeld himselfe, or content to dye, and
so acquit himselfe. And this is all the good, all the
contentment of this florishing age, by children so earnestlie
desired, and by old folkes so hartely lamented. Now commeth that
which is called perfit age, in the which men haue no other
thoughts, but to purchase themselues wisedome and rest. Perfit
in deede, but herein only perfit, that all imperfections of
humane nature, hidden before vnder the simplicitie of childhood,
or the lightnes of youth, appeere at this age in their
perfection. We speake of none in this place but such as are
esteemed the wisest, and most happie in the conceit of the
world. We played as you haue seene in feare: our short pleasures
were attended on with long repentance. Behold, now present
themselues to vs auarice, and ambition, promising if wee will
adore them, perfect contentm[en]t of the goods and honors of this
world. And surely there are none, but the true children of the
Lord, who by the faire illusions of the one or the other cast
not themselues headlong from the top of the pinnacle. But in the
ende, what is all this contentment? The couetous man makes a
thousand voiages by sea and by lande: runnes a thousand
fortunes: escapes a thousand shipwrackes in perpetuall feare and
trauell: and many times he either looseth his time, or gaineth
nothing but sicknesses, goutes, and oppilations for the time to
come. In the purchase of this goodly repose, he bestoweth his
true rest: and to gaine wealth looseth his life. Suppose he hath
gained in good quantitie: that he hath spoiled the whole East of
pearles, and drawen dry all the mines of the West: will he
therefore be setled in quiet? can he say that he is content? All
charges and iourneys past, by his passed paines he heapeth vp
but future disquietnes both of minde and body: from one trauell
falling into another, neuer ending, but changing his miseries.
He desired to haue them, and now feares to loose them: he got
them with burning ardour, and possesseth in trembl