gin their journey, before they violently set their affections upon this or that object, until they find they are out of the way, and meet with false guides to carry them farther out. We should find much ease in our pursuits, and probably much better success in our attempts and enterprises in the world, if, before we are too solicitous and set our heart upon any design, we would well weigh and consider the true value of the thing we desire, whether it be indeed worth all that trouble we shall be put to, and all the time we are like to spend in the obtaining it, and upon it after we have obtained it: if this inquisition doth not divert us, as it need not to do, it will the better prepare and dispose us to be satisfied after we have it; whereas nothing is more usual than for men who succeed in their most impatient pretences, to be more unsatisfied with their success than they were before; it is not worth what they thought or were persuaded it would be, so that their appetite is not at all allayed, nor their gratitude provoked, by the obligation; a little previous consideration would have better fitted the mind to contentedness upon the issue, or diverted it from affecting what would not be acceptable when obtained. In the next place, we should do well prudently to consider, whether it be probable that we shall obtain what we desire, before we engage our affections and our passions too deeply in the prosecution of it; not that we may not lawfully affect and prosecute an interest in which it is very probable we may not succeed. Men who always succeed in what they go about, are often the worse for their success; however, we are not naturally delighted with repulses, and are commonly

angry and sottishly offended with those who obtain that for themselves which we would fain have, and as unreasonably with those who favour them, though their merit be above our own; and therefore, besides the consideration of the probability that we may be disappointed of our end, we shall do well to consider likewise the opposition we are like to meet in the way, the power of those persons who are like to disfavour our pretences, and whether our exposing ourselves to their displeasure may not be a greater damage than the obtaining all that we desire will recompense. These and the like reflections will cost us very little time, but infinitely advance and improve our understanding; and if we then conclude it fit to proceed, we shall do it with confidence, and be disturbed with no accident which encounters us, and be prepared to behave ourselves decently upon the repulse, which oftentimes prefers men better than they wished; a virtuous mind appearing with more lustre in the rejection than in the reception of good turns, and consequently reconciling him to those who knew him not enough before.

These considerations will be most impartially and sincerely debated with ourselves, yet they may be properly enough and usefully consulted with very true and faithful friends, if indeed we abound with such treasure. But there is another consideration so proper and peculiar for ourselves, and to be exactly weighed by ourselves, that the most faithful friend is rarely faithful enough to be trusted enough in the disquisition, and, which is worst of all, we do not wish or desire that he should be faithful; that is, whether we are in truth fit and

worthy of the thing we do affect; if it be an honour, whether it be not too great for us; if it be an office, whether we are equal to it; that is, fit and capable to discharge and execute it, or can make ourselves so by the industry and diligence we are like to contribute towards it: this is the examination we come with least ingenuity to, and friends are ingenuous in assisting us in; and yet is of that importance, that much of the happiness of our life consists in it, many having been made unhappy and even very miserable by preferment, who were in good reputation without it. Tully makes it a necessary ingredient in, or a necessary concomitant of friendship itself, "Tantum cuique tribuendum est, primum, quantum ipse efficere possis, deinde etiam quantum quem diligas atque adjuves, possit sustinere;" it is a very imprudent and unjust thing to oblige a friend to do that out of his friendship to thee, which either he cannot do, or not without great prejudice to himself; but it is an impudent violation of friendship, to importune him to procure a favour to be conferred upon thee which thou canst not sustain; to put the command of a ship into thy hand, when thou knowest neither the compass nor the rudder. There are as great incongruities and incapacities towards the execution of many offices, which do not appear so gross to the first discovery. This scrutiny cannot be so rigidly and effectually made without well weighing, in the first place, the infinite prejudice that befalls ourselves, if we are incompetent for that place or office which we have by much solicitation obtained, and the unspeakable and irreparable prejudice we have brought upon our friends who obtained it for us.

How many men have we known, who, from a reservedness in their nature, have been thought to observe much, and by saying little have been believed to know much; but when they have got themselves into an office, and so been compelled to speak and direct, have appeared weak and ignorant, and incapable of performing their duty; and so must either be removed, to their own shame and reproach, or be continued, to the public detriment and dishonour? How much better had it been for such men to have remained unknown and secure under the shadow of their friends' good opinion, than to have been exposed to the light, and made known only by the discovery of their incredible ignorance! We have known many men who, in a place to which they have been unhappily promoted, have appeared scandalously insufficient; but being removed to another have discharged it with notable abilities yet there was nothing new in himself; if he had asked advice of himself, he would have known all that hath fallen out since so much to his prejudice. He who hath credit with his prince, or with his friend, to prefer or recommend a man to his near and entire trust, hath a great trust himself reposed in him, which he is obliged to discharge with the utmost circumspection and fidelity; and if he be swayed by the confidence and importunity, or corrupted by his own affection, and recommends thee to an employment, which when thou art possessed of thou canst not discharge, with what confusion must he look upon him whom he hath deceived and betrayed, or can he ever look again to be depended upon or advised with upon the like affair? Doing good offices and good turns (as

C

and

men call it) looks like the natural effect of a noble and a generous nature. Indeed the inclination to it is an argument of generosity; but a precipitate entering upon the work itself, and embracing all opportunities to gratify the pretences of unwary men, is an evidence of a light and easy nature, disposed, at other men's charges, to get himself well spoken of. They who revolve these particulars, cannot but think them worthy a very serious examination; must discern, that by entering into this strict consultation with themselves in or before the beginning of any business, they shall prevent much trouble and labour which they shall not be able afterwards to avoid nor can they prudently or so successfully consult with others, before they first deliberate with themselves the very method and manner of communicating with another, how much a friend soever, what concerns one's self requiring as much consideration as the matter itself. But there is another benefit and advantage that results from this intercourse and acquaintance with ourselves, more considerable than any thing which hath been said, which is, that from this communication he takes more care to cultivate and improve himself, that he may be equal and worthy of that trust which he reposes in himself, and fit to consult with and govern himself by; he gets as much information from books and wise men, as may enable him to answer and determine those doubtful questions which may arise; he extinguishes that choler and prejudice which would interrupt him in hearing, and corrupt him in judging what he hears. It is a notable injunction that Seneca imposes, who knew as well as any man what man could bring himself