bringeth out of his treasury things new and old,—the old things of philosophy, and the new of grace; and maketh the one serve the other. Saviour did this for three reasons.

And, I conceive, our

First, that by famil

iar things he might make his doctrine slip the more easily into the hearts even of the meanest. Secondly, that laboring people, whom he chiefly considered, might have every where monuments of his doctrine; remembering, in gardens, his mustard-seed and lilies; in the field, his seed corn and tares: and so not be drowned altogether in the works of their vocation, but sometimes lift up their minds to better things, even in the midst of their pains. Thirdly, that he might set a copy for parsons. In the knowledge of simples, wherein the manifold wisdom of God is wonderfully to be seen, one thing would be carefully observed; which is, to know what herbs may be used instead of drugs of the same nature, and to make the garden the shop. For home-bred medicines are both more easy for the parson's purse, and more familiar for all men's bodies. So, where the apothecary useth, either for loosing, rhubarb; or for binding, bolearmena; the parson useth damask or white roses for the one, and plaintain, shepherds-purse, knotgrass, for the other; and that with better success. As for spices, he doth not only prefer home-bred things before them, but condemns them for vanities, and so shuts them out of his family; esteeming that there is no spice comparable, for herbs, to rosemary, thyme, savory, mints; and for seeds, to fennel, and carraway-seeds. Accordingly for salves, his wife seeks not the city, but prefers her garden and fields before all outlandish gums. And surely hyssop, valerian, mercury, adders-tongue, yerrow, melilot, and St. John's-wort made into a salve; and elder, camomile, mallows, comphrey, and smallage

made into a poultice, have done great and rare cures. In curing of any, the parson and his family use to premise prayers; for this is to cure like a parson, and this raiseth the action from the shop to the church.-But though the parson sets forward all charitable deeds, yet he looks not in this point of curing beyond his own parish; except the person be so poor, that he is not able to reward the physician. For, as he is charitable, so he is just also. Now it is a justice and debt to the commonwealth he lives in, not to encroach on others' professions, but to live on his own. And justice is the ground of charity.

CHAPTER XXIV.

The Parson Arguing.

THE Country Parson, if there be any of his parish that hold strange doctrines, useth all possible diligence to reduce them to the common faith.-The first means he useth is prayer; beseeching the Father of lights to open their eyes, and to give him power so to fit his discourse to them, that it may effectually pierce their hearts, and convert them.-The second means is a very loving and sweet usage of them, both in going to, and sending for them often, and in finding out courtesies to place on them; as in their tithes, or otherwise.-The third means is the observation what is the main foundation and pillar of their cause, whereon they rely; as, if he be a papist, the church is the hinge he turns on; if a schismatic, scandal. Wherefore the parson hath diligently examined these two with himself. As, what the church is; how it begun; how it proceeded; whether

it be a rule to itself; whether it hath a rule; whether, having a rule, it ought not to be guided by it; whether any rule in the world be obscure; and how then should the best be so? at least in fundamental things;-the obscurity in some points being the exercise of the church, the light in the foundations being the guide ;— the church needing both an evidence and an exercise. So, for scandal: what scandal is; when given or taken; whether, there being two precepts, one of obeying authority, the other of not giving scandal, that ought not to be preferred, especially since in disobeying there is scandal also; whether, things once indifferent, being made by the precept of authority more than indifferent, it be in our power to omit or refuse them. These and the like points he hath accurately digested; having ever, besides, two great helps and powerful persuaders on his side. The one, a strict religious life; the other, a humble and ingenuous search of truth, being unmoved in arguing, and void of all contentiousness: which are two great lights able to dazzle the eyes of the misled, while they consider, that God cannot be wanting to them in doctrine, to whom he is so gracious in life.

CHAPTER XXV.

The Parson Punishing.

WHENSOEVER the Country Parson proceeds so far as to call in authority, and to do such things of legal opposition, either in the presenting or punishing of any, as the vulgar ever construes for signs of ill will, he forbears not in any wise to use the delinquent as before, in his behavior and carriage towards him, not avoiding his

company, or doing any thing of averseness, save in the very act of punishment. Neither doth he esteem him for an enemy, but as a brother still; except some small and temporary estranging may corroborate the punishment to a better subduing and humbling of the delinquent. Which, if it happily take effect, he then comes on the faster, and makes so much the more of him, as before he alienated himself; doubling his regards, and shewing, by all means, that the delinquent's return is to his advantage.

CHAPTER XXVI.

The Parson's Eye.

THE Country Parson, at spare times from action, standing on a hill and considering his flock, discovers two sorts of vices, and two sorts of vicious persons. There are some vices, whose natures are always clear and evident; as adultery, murder, hatred, lying, &c. There are other vices, whose natures, at least in the beginning, are dark and obscure; as coveteousness, and gluttony. So likewise there are some persons, who abstain not even from known sins: there are others, who when they know a sin evidently, they commit it not. It is true indeed, they are long a knowing it, being partial to themselves, and witty to others who shall reprove them for it. A man may be both covetous and intemperate, and yet hear sermons against both, and himself condemn both in good earnest. And the reason hereof is, because, the natures of these vices being not evidently discussed or known commonly, the beginnings of them are not easily observable: and the beginnings of them are not

observed, because of the sudden passing from that which was just now lawful, to that which is presently unlawful even in one continued action. So, a man dining eats at first lawfully but, proceeding on, comes to do unlawfully, even before he is aware; not knowing the bounds of the action, nor when his eating begins to be unlawful. So, a man storing up money for his necessary provisions, both in present for his family and in future for his children, hardly perceives when his storing becomes unlawful: yet is there a period for his storing, and a point or centre when his storing, which was even now good, passeth from good to bad.-Wherefore the parson, being true to his business, hath exactly sifted the definitions of all virtue and vices; especially canvassing those, whose natures are most stealing, and beginnings uncertain. Particularly, concerning these two vices; not because they are all that are of this dark and creeping disposition, but for example sake, and because they are most common; he thus thinks :

First, for covetousness, he lays this ground. Whosoever, when a just occasion calls, either spends not at all, or not in some proportion to God's blessing upon him, is covetous. The reason of the ground is manifest; because wealth is given to that end, to supply our occasions. Now, if I do not give every thing its end, I abuse the creature; I am false to my reason, which should guide me; I offend the supreme Judge, in perverting that order which he hath set both to things and to reason. The application of the ground would be infinite. But, in brief, a poor man is an occasion; my country is an occasion; my friend is an occasion; my table is an occasion; my apparel is an occasion. If in all these, and those more which concern me, I either do nothing, or pinch, and scrape, and squeeze blood, un