BELLUM ERASMI translated into english.  
LONDINI IN AEDIBUS THO. BERTHELETI. AN. M.D.XXXIII. CUM PRIVILEGIO.   

Dulce bellum inexpertis.  
IT IS BOTH an elegante proverb, and among all other, by the writings of many excellent auctors, full often and solemnly used, Dulce bellum inexpertis, that is to say, War is sweet to them that know it not. There be some things among mortal men's businesses, in the which how great danger and hurt there is, a man can not perceive till he make a proof. The love and friendship of a great man is sweet to them that be not expert: he that hath had thereof experience, is afeard. It seemeth to be a gay and a glorious thing, to jest up and down among the nobles of the court, and to be occupied in the kings business: but old men, to whom that thing by long experience is well known, do gladly abstain themself from such felicity. It seemeth a pleasant thing to be in love with a young dammo cell: but that is unto them, that have not yet perceived how moche grief and bitterness is in such love. So after this manner of fashion, this proverb may be applied to every business, that is adjoined with great peril and with many evils: the which no man will take on hand, but he that is young and wanteth experience of things.  
Aristotle in his book of Rhetoric, showeth the cause, why youth is more bolder, and contrary wise old age more fearful: for unto young men lack of experience is cause of great boldness, and to the other, experience of many griefs engendereth fear and doubting. Then if there be any thing in the world, that should be taken in hand with fear and doubting, ye that ought by all manner means to be fled, to be withstand with prayer, and to be clean avoided, verily it is war: than which nothing is either more wicked, or more wretched, or that more farther of destroyeth, or that near hand cleaveth sorer to, or doth more hurt, or is more horrible, and briefly to speak, nothing doth worse become a man (I will not say a christian man) than war. And yet it is a wonder to speak of, how now a days in every place, how lightly, and how for every trifling matter, it is taken on hand, how outrageously and barbarously it is gested and done, not only of heathen people, but also of christian men, not only of secular men, but also of priests and bishops: not only of young men, and of them that have none experience, but also of old men, and of those that so often have had experience, not only of the commons and movable vulgar people, but most specially of the princes, whose duty had been, by wisdom and reason to set in a good order, and to pacify the light and hasty movings of the foolish multitude. Nor there lack neither lawyers, nor yet divines, the which put to their fire brands, to kendel these things so abominable, and they encourage them that else were cold, & they privily provoke those to it, that were weary thereof. And by these means it is come to that pass, that war is a thing now so well accepted, that men wonder at him, that is not pleased therewith. It is so much approved, that it is counted a wicked thing (and I had almost said heresy) to reprove this one thing, the which as it is above all other things most mischiefful, so it is most wretched. But how more justly should this be wondered at, what evil spirit, what pestilence, what mischief, and what madness put first in man's mind a thing so beyond measure beastly, that this most pleasant, and reasonable creature man, the which nature hath brought forth to piece and benevolence, which one alone she hath brought forth to the help and secure of all other: should with so wild woodness, with so mad rages, run headlong one to destroy an other? At the which thing he shall also much more marvel, who so ever would withdraw his mind from the opinions of the common people, and will turn it to behold the very pure strength and nature of things: and will apart behold well with philosophical eyes the image of man on the tone side, and the picture of war on the other side.  
Then first of all if one would consider well but the behaviour & shap of man's body shall he not forthwith perceive, that Nature, or rather god, hath shaped this creature, not to war, but to friendship, not to destruction, but to health, not to wrong, but to kindness and benevolence? For where as nature hath armed all other bestis with their own armure, as the violence of the bullis she hath armed with horns, the ramping lion with claws, to the bore she hath given the gnashing tusks, she hath armid the elephant with a long trump snout, beside his great huge body and hardness of the skin: she hath fenced the Locodrill with a skin as hard as a plate: to the Delphin fish she hath given fins in stead of a dart: The Porcopin she defendeth with thorns: the ray and thornebacke with sharp prickels: to the cock she hath given strong spurs. Some she fenceth with a shell, some with a hard hide, as it were thick leather, or bark of a tree. Some she provideth to save by swiftness of flight, as doves. And to some she hath given venom instead of a weapon. To some she hath given a moche horrible and owgly look, she hath given terrible eyes and grounting voice. And she hath also set among some of them continual dissension and debate. Man alone she hath brought forth all naked, week, tender, and without any armure, with most softest flesh and smooth skin. There is nothing at all in all his membres that may seem to be ordained to war, or to any violence, I wool not say at this time, that where all other be●stis, anon as they are brought forth, they are able of themself to get their food: Man alone cometh so forth, that a long season after he is borne, he dependeth all together on the help of other. He can neither speak nor go, nor yet take meat, he desireth help alonely by his infant crying: so that a man may at the least way, by this conject, that this creature alone was borne all to love and amity, which specially increaseth and is fast knit together by good turns done eftsoons of one to an other. And for this cause Nature would, that a man should not so moche thank her, for the gift of life, which she hath given unto him, as he should thank kindness and benevolence, whereby he might evidently understand himself, that he was all together dedicate and bounden to the God's of graces: that is to say to kindness, benevolence, and amity. And beside this nature hath given unto man, a countenance not terrible and loathly, as unto other brute bestis: but meek and demure, representing the very tokens of love and benevolence. She hath given him amiable eyes, and in them assured marks of the inward mind. She hath ordained him arms to clip & embrace. She hath given him the wit and understanding to kiss: whereby the very minds and hearts of men should be coupled together, even as though they touched each other. Unto man alone she hath given laughing, a token of good cheer and gladness. To man alone she hath given weeping tears, as it were a wed or token of meekness and mercy. Ye and she hath given him a voice not threatening and horrible, as unto other brute beasts, but amiable and pleasant. Nature not yet content with all this, she hath given unto man alone the commodity of speech and raysoning: the which things verily may specially both get and nourish benevolence, so that nothing at all should be done among men by violence. She hath endued man with hatred of solitarynes, and with love of company. She hath utterly sown in man the very sedes of Benevolence. She hath so done, that the self same thing, that is most wholesome, should be most sweet and delectable. For what is more delectable than a friend? And again, what thing is more necessary? Moreover, if a man might lead all his life most profitably without any meddling with other men, yet nothing would seem pleasant without a fellow: except a man would cast of all humanity, and forsaking his own kind would become a beast.  
Beside all this, Nature hath endued man with knowledge of liberal sciences, and a fervent desire of knowledge: which thing as it doth most specially withdraw man's wit from all beastly wildness: so hath it a special grace to get and knit together love and friendship. For I dare boldly say, that neither affinity nor yet kindred, doth bind the minds of men together with straighter and surer bandis of amity, than doth the fellowship of them that be learned in good letters & honest studies. And above all this, nature hath divided among men by a marvelous variety the gifts, as well of the soul as of the body, to th'intent truly that every man might find in every singular person one thing or other, which they should other love or praise for the excellency thereof: or else greatly desire and make moche of it, for the need and profit that cometh thereof. Finally she hath endowed man with a spark of a godly mind: so that though he see no reward, yet of his own courage he delighteth to do every man good. For unto god it is most proper and natural, by his benefit to do every body good. Else what meaneth it, that we rejoice and conceive in our minds no little pleasure, when we perceive that any creature is by our means preserved.  
More over god hath ordained man in this world, as it were the very image of himself, to the intent, that he, as it were a god in earth, should provide for the wealth of all creatures. And this thing the very brute bestis, do also perceive, for we may see, that not only the tame bestis, but also the liberdis, lions, and other more fierce and wild, when they be in any great jeopardy, they flee to man for succour. So man is, when all things fail, the last refuge to all manner creatures. He is unto them all the very assured altar and seynctuarie.  
I have here painted out to you the image of man as well as I can: On the other side (if it like you) against the figure of man, let us purtraire the fashion and shap of war.  
Now then imagine in thy mind, that thou dost behold two hosts of barbarous people, of whom the look is fierce and cruel, and the voice horrible, the terrible and fearful rustling and glistering of their harness and weapons, the unlovely mourmour of so huge a multitude, the eyes sternly menassing, the bloody blastis & terrible sounds of trumpettis & clarions, the thundering of the gonnes, no less fearful than thunder in deed, but much more hurtefulle, the wood cry & clamour, the furious and mad running together, the outrageous slaughter, the cruel chances of them that slay, and of those that are stricken down and slain, the heaps of slaughters, the fields overflown with blood, the rivers died red with man's blood. And it chanceth often times among, that the brother fighteth with the brother, one kinsman with an other, friend against friend: and in that common furious woodness oft times one thrusteth his weapon quite through the body of an other, that never gave him so moche as a foul word. Verily this tragedy containeth so many mischiefs, that it would abhor any man's heart to speak thereof. I will let pass to speak of the hurts, which are in comparison of the other but light and commune, as the treading down and destroying of the corn all about, the burning of towns, the villages fired, the driving away of cattle, the ravishing of maidens, the old men led forth in captivity, the robbing of churches, and all things confounded and full of thefts, pillages, & violence. Nother I will not speak now of those things, which are wont to follow the most happy and most just war of all.  
The poor commons peeled, the nobles over charged, so many old men of their children bereaved, ye and slain also in the slaughter of their children, so many old women destitute, whom sorrow more cruelly sleeth then the weapon itself, so many honest wives become widows, so many children fatherless, so many lamentable houses, so many rich men brought to extreme poverty. And what needeth it here to speak of the destruction of good manners, sith there is no man, but he knoweth right well, that the universal pestilence of all mischievous living proceedeth at ones of war. Thereof cometh despising of virtue and godly living: hereof cometh, that the laws are neglected, and not regarded, hereof cometh a prompt and a ready stomach, boldly to do every mischievous deed. Out of this fountain springeth so huge great companies of thieves, robbers, sacrilegers, and murderers, And that is most grievous of all, this mischievous pestilence can not keep herself within her bounds: but after it is begun in ●●m one corner, it doth not only (as a contagious disease) spread abroad and infect the countries near adjoining to it, but also it draweth in to that common rumble and troublous business the countries that be very far of, either for need, or by reason of affinity, or else by occasion of some league made. Ye and more over, one war springeth of an other: of a dissembled war there cometh war in deed, & of a very small, a right great war hath risen. Nor it chanceth often times none other wise in these things, thenne it is feigned of the monster, which lay in the lake or puddle called Lerna.  
For these causes I trow, the old poets, the which most sagely perceived the power and nature of things, & with most meet feignings, covertly shadowid the same: have left in writing, that war was sent out of hell: and that by the labour of the furies of hell: nor every one of the furies was not meet and convenient to bring about this business, but the most pestilent and mischievoust of them all, was chosen out for the nonce, which hath a thousand names, and a thousand crafts to do hurt. She being armed with a thousand serpentis, bloweth before her fendly trumpette. Pan with furious ruffling accombreth every place. Bellona, shaketh her furious flail. And then the wicked furiousness himself, when he hath undone all knottiss and broken all bonds, rusheth out with bloody mouth horrible to behold.  
The grammarians perceived right well these things, of the which, some will, that war have his name by contrary meaning of the word Bellum, that is to say fair, because it hath nothing good nor fair. Nor bellum, that is for to say war, is none other wise called Bellum, that is to say fair: than the furies are called Eumenides, that is to say meek: by cause they are wood and contrary to all meekness. And some grammarian think rather, that Bellum war, should be deryvied out of this word Belua, that is for to say, a brute beast: for so moche as it belongeth to brute beasts, and not unto men to run together, each to destroy other. But it seemeth to me to pass far all wild and all brute beastlynes, to fight together with weapons.  
first for there are many of the brute beasts, each in his kind, that agree and live in a gentile fashion together, and they go together in hirdes and flocks, and each helpeth to defend other. Nor it is not the nature of all wild beasts to fight. For some are harmless, as doois and haaris. But they that are the most fierce of all, as lions, wolves, and tigers: do not make war among themself as we do. One dog eateth not another. The lions, though they be fierce and cruel, yet they fight not among themself.  
One dragon is in peace with an other. And there is agreement among poisons. But unto man there is no wild or cruel beast more hurtful, than man.  
again, when the brute beasts fight, they fight with their own natural armour: we men, above nature, to the destruction of men, arm ourself with armour, invented by craft of the devil. Nor the wild beasts are not cruel for every cause: but either when hunger maketh them fierce, or else when they perceive themself to be hunted and pursued to the death, or else when they fear lest their younglings should take any harm or be stolen from them. But (oh good lord) for what trifling causes what tragedies of war do we stir up: For most vain titles, for chyldyshe wrath, for a wench, ye and for causes much more scornful than these, we be inflamed to fight.  
More over, when the brute beasts fight, their war is one for one, ye and that is very short. And when the battle is sorest fought, yet is there not passed one or two, that goeth away sore wounded. When was it ever hard, that an hundred thousand brute beasts were slain at one time fighting and tearing one an other: which thing men do full host & in many places? And beside this, where as some wild beasts have natural debate with some other, that be of a contrary kind: So again there be some, with which they lovingly agree in a sure amity. But man with man, and each with other, have among them continual war: nor there is no league sure enough among any men. So that what so ever it be, that hath gone out of kind, it hath gone out of kind into a worse fashion: then though nature herself had engendered therein a malice at the beginning.  
Will ye see how beastly, how fowl, and how unworthy a thing war is for man? Did ye never behold a lion let lose unto a bear? What gapings, what roarings, what grisly gnashing, what tearing of their flesh is there? He trembleth, that beholdeth them, yea though he stand sure and safe enough from them. But how moche more grisly a sight is it, how moche more outrageous and cruel, to behold man, to fight with man, arrayed with so moche armour, and with so many weapons? I beseech you, who would believe, that they were men, & it were not because war is a thing so moche in custom, that no man marveleth at it? Their eyes glow like fire, their faces be paale, their marching forth is like men in a fury, their voice skrytshing and grunting, their cry and clamour wood, all is iron, their harness and weapons gynglen and clutterens, & the gounnes' thondrens. It might have been better suffered, if man for lack of meat and drink, should have fought with man, to the intent he might devour his flesh and drink his blood: All be it, it is come also now to that pass, that some there be, that do it more of hatred, then either for hunger or for thirst. But now this same thing is done more cruelly, with weapons envenomed, and with devilish engines. So that no where may be perceived any token of man. Trow ye that nature could here know the same thing, that she sometime had wrought with her own hands? And if any man would inform her, that it were man, that she beheld in such array: might she not well, with great wondering, say these words?  
What new manner pageant is this that I behold? what devil of hell hath brought us forth this monster? There be some that call me a stepmother, because that among so great heaps of things of my making I have brought forth some venomous things: and yet have I ordained the self same venomous things, for man's behoof. And because I have made some beasts very fires and perilous: and yet is there no be'st so wild nor so perilous, but that by craft and diligence he may be made tame and gentle. By man's diligent labour the lions been made tame, the dragon's meek, and the bears obedient. But what is this, that worse is than any steppemother, which hath brought us forth, this new unreasonable brute beast, the pestilence and mischief of all this world? One beast alone I brought forth holly dedicate to be benevolent, pleasant, friendly, and health of all other? What hath chanced, that this creature is changed into such a brute beast? I perceive nothing of the creature man● which I myself made. What evil spirit hath thus defiled my work? What witch hath bewitched the mind of man, and transformed it into so beastysshe? What sorceress hath thus turned him out of his kindly shape? I command and would the wretched creature should behold himself in a glass. But alas what shall the eyes see, where the mind is away? Yet behold thyself (if thou canst) thou furious warrior, and see if thou mayst by any means recover thyself again. From whence haste thou that threatening crest upon thy heed? from whence hast thou that shining helmet? from whence are those iron horns? Whence cometh it, that thine elbows are so sharp and piked? Where hadst thou those scales? Where hadst thou those brazen teeth? Of whence are those hard platis? Whence are those deadly weapons? Fro whence cometh to the this voice more horrible then of a wild beast? What a look and countenance hast thou more terrible, than of a brute beast? Where hast thou gotten this thunder and lightning, both more fearful and hurtful than is the very thunder and lightening it self? I formed the a goodly creature, what came in thy mind, that thou wold●●●e thus conform thyself in to so cruel and so beastly fashion, that there is no brute beast so unreasonable in comparison unto man?  
These words, and many other such like I suppose, she dame nature, the worker of all things, would say. Then sith man is such, as is showed before that he is: & that war is such a thing, like as to oft we have felt and known, it seemeth to me no small wonder, what ill spirit, what disease, or what mishap, first put into man's mind, that he would bathe his mortal weapon in the blood of man. It must needs be, that men mounted up to so great madness by divers degrees. For there was never man yet (as Juvenal saith) that was suddenly most ungracious of all. And alway things most worst, have crept in among men's manners of living, under the shadow and shape of goodness. For sometime those men that were in the beginning of the world, led their lines in woods, they went naked, they had no walled towns, nor houses to put their heeds in: it happened other while that they were sore grieved and destroyed with wild beasts. Wherefore with them first of all, men made war, & he was esteemed a mighty strong man, and a captain, that could best defend mankind from the violence of wild beasts. Yea and it seemed to them a thing most equal, to strangle the stranglers, and to slay the sleers, namely when the wild beast, not provoked by us for any hurt to them done, would wilfully set upon us. And so by reason that this was counted a thing most worthy of praise (for hereof it rose that Hercules was made a god, the lufty stomached young men, began all about to hunt and chase the wild beasts, and as a token of their valiant victory, the skins of such beasts as they slew, were set up in such places, as the people might behold them. Besides this they were not contented to slay the wild beasts, but they used to wear their skins to keep them from the cold in winter. These were the first slaughters that men used: These were their spoils and robberies. After this, they went so farforth, that they were bold to do a thing, which Pythagoras thought to be very wicked: and it might seem to us also a thing monstruous, if custom were not, which hath so great strength in every place: that by custom it was reputed in some countries a moche charitable deed, if a man would, when his father were very old, first sore beat him, and after thrust him headlong into a pit, and so bereave him of his life, by whom it chanced him to have the gift of life. It was counted a holy thing, a man to feed on the flesh of his own kyns men and friends. They thought it a goodly thing, that a virgin should be made common to the people in the temple of Venns. And many other things, more abominable than these: of which if a man should now but only speak, every man would abhor to hear him. Surely there is nothing so ungracious, nor nothing so cruel, but men will hold therewith, if it be once approved by custom. The will ye here, what a deed they durst at the last do? They were not abashed to eat the carcases of the wild beasts that were slain: to tear the unsavoury flesh with their teeth, to drink the blood, to suck out the matter of them: and (as ovid saith) to hide the beasts bowels within their own. And although that at that time seemed, to be an outrageous deed, unto them, that were of a more mild and gentle courage: yet was it generally allowed, and all by reason of custom and commodity. Yet were they not so content. For they went from the slaying of noisome wild beasts, to kill the harmless beasts, and such as did none hurt at all. They waxed cruel every where upon the poor sheep, a beast without fraud or guile. They slew the haare, for none other offence, but because he was a good fat dish of meat to feed upon. Nor they forbore not to kill the tame ox, which had a long season, with his sore labour nourished the unkind household. They spared no kind of beasts, of fowls, nor of fishes. Yea and the tyranny of gluttony went so farforth, that there was no beast any where, that could be sure from the cruelty of man. Yea & custom persuaded this also, that it seemed no cruelness at all to since any manner of beast, what so ever it was, so they abstained from manslaughter. Now peradventure it lieth in our power to keep out 〈◊〉, that they enter not upon the manners of men, in like manner as it lieth in our power to keep out the see, that it break not in upon us: But when the see is once broken in, it passeth our power to restreyn it within any bounds. So either of them both ones let in, they will not be ruled, as we would, but ronnne forth headlong whither so ever their own lags carrieth them. And so after that men had been exercised with such beginnings to slaughter, wrath anon enticed man to set upon man, either with staff, or with stone, or elles with his fist. For as yet, I think they used none other weapons. And now had they learned by the killing of beasts, that man also might soon and easily be slain with little labour. But this cruelness remained betwixt singular persons, so that yet was there no great number of men, that fought together, but as it chanced one man against an other. And beside this, there was no small colour of equity, if a man slew his enemy: ye and shortly after, it was a great praise to a man, so slay a violent and a mischievous man, and to rid him out of the world, such devilish and cruel caitiffs, as men say Cacus and Busiris were. For we see plainly, that for such causes, Hercules was greatly praised. And in process of time, many assembled to take part together, either as affinity, or as neyghbourheed, or kindred bound them. And that that is now robbery, was then war. And they sought then with stones, or with stakes, a little burned at the ends. A little river, a rock, or such other like thing, chancing to be between them, made an end of their battle.  
In the mean season, whiles fierceness by use increaseth, whiles wrath is grown great, and ambition hot and vehement: by ingenious craft, they arm their furious violence. They devise harness, such as it is, to fence them with. They invent weapons to destroy their enemies with. Thus now by few and few, now with greater company, and now armed they begin to fight. Nor to this manifest madness they forget not to give honour. For they call it Bellum, that is to say, a fair thing: ye and they repute it a virtuous deed, if a man with the jeopardy of his own life, manly resist and defend from the violence of his enemies, his wife, children, beasts, and household. And by little and little, malice grew so great, with the high esteeming of other things, that one city began to send defiance and make war to an other, country against country, and royalme against royalme. And though the thing of itself was then most cruel: yet all this while there remained in them certain tokens, whereby they might be known for men. For such goodis as by violence were taken away: were asked and required again by an herald at arms, the God's were called to witness, ye and when they were ranged in battle, they would reason the matter, ere they fought. And in the battle they used but homely weapons, nor they used neither guile nor disobeyed, but only strength. It was not leeful for a man to strike his enemy, till the sign of battle was given. Nor it was not leeful to fight after the swooning of the retreat. And for conclusion, they fought more to show their manliness, and for praise, than they coveted to slay. Nor all this while they armed them not, but against strangers, the which they called hosts, as they had been hospites, their guestis. Of this rose empires, of the which there was never none yet in any nation, but it was gotten with the great shedding of man's blood. And sith that time there hath followed continual course of war, whiles one eftsoons laboureth to put an other out of his empire, and to set himself in.  
After all this, when the empires camme ones in to their hands, that were most ungracious of all other: they made war upon who so ever pleased them: nor they were not in greatest peril and danger of war, that had most deserved to be punished, but they that by fortune had gotten great riches. And now they made not war to get praise and fame, but to get the vile muck of the world, or else some other thing far worse than that.  
I think not the contrary, but that the great wise man Pythagoras, meant these things: when he by a proper device of philosophy, feared the unlearned multitude of people from the slaying of silly beasts. For he perceived, it should at length come to pass, that he which (by none injury provoked) was accustomed to spill the blood of a harmless beast, would in his anger, being provoked by injury, not fear to slay a man.  
War, what other thing else is it, than a common manslaughter of many men to gather, & a robbery? the which, the farther it sprawleth abroad, the more mischievous it is. But many gross gentlemen now a days laugh merrily at these things, as though they were the dreams and dotynges of school men, the which saving the shape, have no paint of manhood, yet seem they in their own conceit to be goodis. And yet of those beginnings, we see we be rounne so far in madness, that we do nought else all our life days. We war continually, nation with nation, royalme with royalme, city with city, Prince with prince, people with people, ye and (it that the heathen people confess to be a wyckedde thing) cousin with cousin, alliance, with alliance, brother with brother, the son with the father, ye and that I esteem more cruel than all these things, a Christian man against an other man. And yet furthermore, I wool say, that I am very loath to do, which is a thing most cruel of all, one christian man with an other christian man. Oh blindness of man's mind, at those things no man marveleth, no man abhorreth them. There be some that rejoice at them, and praise them above the moon: and the thing which is more then devilish, they call a holy thing. Old men crooked for age, make war, pryestes make war, monks gone forth to war, yea and with a thing so devilish we mingle Christ. The battles ranged, they encounter the one the other, bearing before them the sign of the Cross, which thing alone might at the last wise admonish us, by what means it should become christian men to overcome.  
But we run headlong each to destroy oher, even from that heavenly sacrifice of the altar, whereby is represented that perfect, and ineffable kniting together of all christian men. And of so wicked a thing, we make Christ both author and wyttenes. Where is the kingdom of the devil, if it be not in War? Why draw we Christ into war? with whom a brothel house agreeth more than war? Sayncte Paul disdaineth, that there should be any so great discord among christian men, that they should need any judge to discuss the matter between them. What and he should come and behold us now through all the world, warring for every light and trifling cause, striving more cruelly than ever did any heathen people, and more cruelly than any barbarous people. Yea and ye shall see it done by the authority, exhortations, and furtheringes of those, that represent Christ, the prince of peace, and very bishop, that all things knitteth together by peace: and those that salute the people with good luck of peace. Nor it is not unknown to me, what these unlearned people, will say (a good while since) against me in this matter, the whose winnings arise of the common evils. They say thus. We make war against our wills: for we be constrained by the ungracious deeds of other. We make war but for our right. And if there come any hurt thereof, thank them that be causers of it. But let these men hold their tongues a while, and I shall after in place convenient, a●oyde all their cavillations: and pluck of that false viso, wherewith we hide all our malice.  
But first as I have above compared man with war, that is to say, the creature most demure, with a thing most outrageous, to the intent that cruelness might the better be perceived: So will I compare war and peace together, the thing most wretched, and most myschieffull, with the best and most wealthy thing that is: And so at last shall appear, how great madness it is, with so great ruffling, with so great labours, with such intolerable expenses, with so many dangers and extreme perils, with so many calamities, affectionately to desire war: where as agreement might be bought with a far less price.  
first of all, what in all this world is more sweeter or better than amity or love? Truly nothing. And I pray you, what other thing is peace than amity and love among many men? like as war on the other side is nought else but dissension and debate of many men together. And surely the property of good things is such, that the brother they been spread, the more profit and commodity cometh of them. Farther if the love of one singular person with an other be so sweet and delectable: how great should the felicity be, if realm with realm, & nation with nation were coupled together, with the band of amity and love? On the other side, the nature of evil things is such, that the farther they sprawl abroad, the more worthy they are to be called evil, as they be indeed. Then if it be a wretched thing, if it be an ungracious thing, that one man armed should fight with an other, how moche more miserable, how much more mischievous is it, that the self same thing should be done with so many thousands together? By love and peace the small things increase and way great, by discord and debate the great things decay and come to nought. Peace is the mother and nurse of all good things. War suddenly and at once overthroweth, destroyeth, and utterly fordoth every thing that is pleasant and fair, and bringeth in among men a monster of all mischievous things.  
In the time of peace (none other wise than as ver, the lusty springing time, should show and shine in men's businesses) the fields are tilled, the gardens and orchards freshly flourish, the beasts pasture merrily, gay manors in the country are edified, the towns are builded, where as need is, reparations are done, the buildings are highted, and augmented, riches increaseth, pleasures are nourished, the laws are executed, the common wealth flourisheth, religion is fervent, right raineth, gentleness is used, crafts men are busily exercised, the poor men's gains is more plentiful, the wealthiness of the rich men is more gay and goodly, the studies of most honest learnings florishen, youth is well taught, the aged folks have quiette and rest, maidens are luckily married, mothers are praised for bringing forth of children like to their progenitors, the good men prosper and do well, and the evil men do less offence.  
¶ But as soon as the cruel tempest of war cometh on us, 
what m●●●chief co●●meth of war.  good lord, how great a flood of mischiefs, occupieth, overfloweth and drowneth all together. The fair hirdes of beasts are driven a way, the goodly corn is trodden down and destroyed, the good husband men are slain, the villages are burned up, the most wealthy cities, that have flourished so many winters, with that one storm are overthrown, destroyed, and brought to naught: so much more readier & prompter men are to do hurt th●● good. The good citizens are rob and spoiled of their goods by cursed thieves and mourtherers. Every place is full of fear, of wailing, complaining, & lamenting. The crafts men stand idle: the poor men must either die for hunger, or fall to stealing. The rich men either they stand and sorrow for their goods, that be pluck and snatched from them, or else they stand in great doubt to lose such goods as they have left them: so that they be on every side woe begun. The maidens, either they be not married at all, or else if they be married, their marriages are sorrowful and lamentatable. wives being destitute of their husbands, lie at home without any fruit of children, the laws are laid aside, gentleness is laughed to scorn, right is clean exiled, religion is set at nought, hallowed and unhallowed things all is one, youth is corrupted with all manner of vices, the old folk they wail and weep, and wish themself out of the world, there is no honour given unto the study of good letters. Finally there is no tongue can tell, the harm and mischief that we feel in war.  
¶ Perchance war might be the better suffered, if it made us but only wretched and needy, but it maketh us ungracious, and also full of unhappiness: and I think Peace like wise should be much made of, and it were but only because it maketh us more wealthy and better in our living. Alas there be to many all ready, ye and more then to many mischiefs and evils, with the which the wretched life of man (whether he will or no) is continually vexed, turmented, and utterly consumed.  
¶ It is near hand two thousand year sith the physicians had knowledge of three hundred divers notable sicknesses by name, beside other small sicknesses and new, as daily spring among us, and be side age also, which is of itself a sickness inevitable.  
¶ We read, that in one place whole cities have been destroyed with earth quakes. We read also, that in an other place there have been cities all together brent with lightning: how in an other place whole regions have been swallowed up with opening of the earth, towns by undermining have fallen to the ground: so that I need not here to remember what a great multitude of men are daily destroyed by divers chances, which be not regarded, by cause they hap so often: as sudden breaking out of the see, and of great bloods, falling down of hills and houses, poison, wild beasts, meat, drink, and sleep. One hath been strangled with drinking of a hear in a draught of milk, an other hath been choked with a little grape stone, an other with a fish bone sticking in his throat. There hath been, that sudden joy hath killed out of hand: for it is less wonder of them that die for vehement sorrow. Beside all this, what mortal pestilence see we in every place. There is no part of the world, that is not subject to peril and danger of man's life, which life of itself also is most fugitive. So manifold mischances and evils assail man on every side, that not without cause Homer did say: Man was the most wretched of all creatures living.  
¶ But for as much these mischances can not lightly be eschewed, nor they hap not through our fault, they make us but only wretched, and not ungracious withal. What a pleasure is it than for them that be subject all ready to so many miserable chances, willyngely to seek and procure themself another mischief more than they had before, as though they yet wanted misery? Ye they procure not a light evil, but such an evil that is worse than all the other, so mischiffull, that it alone passeth all the other: so aboundante, that in itself alone is comprehended all ungraciousness? so pestilent, that it maketh us all a like wicked as wretched, it maketh us full of all misery, and yet not worthy to be pitied.  
¶ Now go farther, and with all these things consider, that the commodities of Peace spreaden themself most far and wide, and pertain unto many men. In war if there happen any thing luckily (but o good lord, what may we say happeth well and luckily in war?) it pertaineth to very few: and to them, that are unworthy to have it. The prosperity of one is the destruction of an other. The inryching of one, is the spoil and robbing of an other. The triumph of one, is the lamentable mourning of an other, so that as the infelicite is bytte● and sharp, the felicity is cruel and bloody. How be it other while both parties weepen according to the proverb, Victoria Cadmaea, Cadmus' victory, where both parties repent. And I wot not whether it came ever so happily to pass in war, that he that had victory, did not repent him of his enterprise, if he were a good man.  
¶ Than seeing Peace is the thing above all other most best & most pleasant, & contrariwise war, the thing most ungracious and wretched of all other: shall we think those men to be in their right minds, the which when they may obtain Peace with little business and labour, will rather procure war with so great labour, and most diffycultye?  
¶ first of all consider, how lothelye a thing the rumour of war is, when it is first spoken of. Then how envious a thing it is unto a prince, whiles with often demes & taxes he pilleth his subjects. What a business hath he to make and entreteyne friends to help him, what a business to procure bends of strangers, and to hire sowdyars?  

Charges 〈◊〉 war.  ¶ What expenses and labours must he make in setting forth his Navey of ships, in building and repairing of castles and fortresses, in prepayring and apparayling of his tents and pavilions, in framing, making, and carrying of ingyns, gounnes, armour, weapons, baggage, carts, and victual? what great labour is spent, in making of bulwarks, in casting of dyches, in digging of mines, in keeping of watches, in keeping of arrays, and in exercising of weapons? I pass over the fear they be in, I speak not of the imminent danger and peril that hangeth over their heeds (for what thing in war is not to be feared?) what is he that can reckon all the incommodious life, that the most foolish soldiers suffern in the field? And for that worthy to endure worse, 
Sodiou● life.  in that they will suffer it willingly. Their meat is so ill, that an ox of Cypress would be loath to eat it: they have but little sleep, nor yet that at their own pleasure. Their tents on every side are open on the wind. What a tent? no no, they must all the day long, be it hot or cold, wet or dry, stand in the open air, sleep on the bare ground, stand in their harness. They must suffer hunger, thrust, cold, heat, dust, showers, they must be obedient to their captains, sometimes they be clapped on the pate with a warder or a trouncheon, so that there is no bondage so vile as the bondage of soldiers.  
¶ Be side all this, at the sorrowful sign given to fight, they must run headlong to death: for either they must flee cruelly, or be slain wretchedly. So many sorrowful labours must they take in hand, that they may bring to pass that thing, which is most wretched of all other. With so many great miseries we must first afflict and grieve our own self, that we mow afflict and grieve other.  
¶ Now if we would call this matter to account, and justly reckon, how moche war will cost, and how much peace, surely we shall find that peace may be got and obtained with the tenth part of the cares, labours, griefs, perils, expenses, and spilling of blood, with which the war is procured. So great a company of men, to their extreme perils, ye lead out of the realm to overthrow and destroy some one town: and with the labour of the self same men, and without any peril at all, an other town much more nobler and goodly, might be new edified and builded. But you say, you will ho●rt & grieve your enemy: lo even that doing is against humanity. Nevertheless this I would ye should consider, that ye can not hurt & grieve your enemies, but ye must first greatly hurt your own people. And it seemeth a point of a mad man, to enterprise where he is sure & certain of so great hurt & damage, & is uncertain, which way the chance of war will turn.  
¶ But admit, that either foolishness, or wrath, or ambition, or covetousness, or outrageous cruelty, or else (which I think more like) the furies sent from hell, should ravish and draw the heathen people to this madness. Yet from whence cometh it in to our minds, that one christian man should draw his weapon to bathe it in an other christian man's blood? It is called Parricide, 
Parrici●● is more abhor than sim●●● man's slaughtery  if the one brother slay the other. And yet is a christian man narre joined to an other, then is one brother to another: except the bonds of nature be stronger than the bonds of Christ. What abominable thing than is it to see them almost continually fighting among themself, the which are the inhabitants of one house the church, which rejoice and say, that they all be the membres of one body, and that have one heed, which truly is Christ, they have all one father in heaven, they are all taught and comforted by one holy spirit: they profess the religion of Christ all under one manner: they are all redeemed with Christ's blood: they are all new borne at the holy font, they use all like sacramentis, they be all soldiers under one captain, they are all fed with one heavenly bread: they drink all of one spiritual cup, they have one common enemy the devil: finally they be all called to one inheritance? Where be they so many sacraments of perfect concord? Where be the innumerable teachings of peace? There is one special precept, which Christ called his, that is Charity. 
Charity.  And what thing is so repugnant to charity as war? Christ saluted his disciples with the blessed luck of peace. Unto his disciples he gave nothing save peace, saving peace he left them nothing. In those holy prayers, he specially prayed the father of heaven, that in like manner as he was one with the father, so all his, that is to say christian men, should be one with him. Lo here you may perceye a thing more than peace, more than amity, more than concord.  
¶ Solomon bare the figure of Christ: for Solomon in the hebrewe tongue soundeth peaceable or pacyfull. Him god would have to build his temple.  
¶ At the birth of christ the angels proclaimed neither war nor triumphs, but peace they sang. And before his birth the prophet David prophesied thus of him: Et factus est in Pace locus eius, that is to say, His dwelling place is made in peace.  
¶ search all the hole life of Christ, 
The life of Chri●●●  and ye shall never find thing, that breathe not of peace, that soundeth not amity, that savoureth not of charity. And because he perceived peace could not well be kept, except men would utterly despise all though things, for which the world so greedily fighteth, he commanded, that we should of him learn to be meek. He calleth them blessed and happy, that setteth naught by riches, for those he calleth poor in spirit. Blessed be they, that despise the pleasures of this world, the which he calleth mourners. And them blessed he calleth, that patiently suffer them self, to be put out of their possessions, knowing that here in this world they are but as outlaws: and the very true country & possession of godly creatures is in heaven. He calleth them blessed, which deserving well of all men, are wrongfully blamed, and ill afflicted. He forbade that any man should resist evil. briefly, as all his doctrine commandeth sufferance and love, so all his life teacheth nothing else but meekness. So he reigned, so he warred, so he overcame, so he triumphed.  
¶ Nor the appostols, that had sucked in to them the pure spirit of Christ, and were blessedly drunk with that new must of the holy ghost, preached nothing but meekness and peace. What do all the epistols of Paul sound in every place but peace, but longaminite, but Charity? What speaketh saint Iohn, what rehearseth he so oft, but love? What other thing did Peter? What other thing did all the true christian writers? From whence then cometh all this ruffling of wars amongs the children of peace? Think ye it a fable, that christ calleth himself a vine tree, and hisen the branches? Who did ever see one branch fight with an other? Is it in vain: that Paul so oft wrote, The church to be none other thing, than one body compact together of gardeners membres, cleaving to one heed, Christ? Who ever saw the eye fight with the hand, or the belly with the foot? In this universal body, compact of all those unlike things, there is a grement. In the body of a beast, one member is in peace with an other, & each member useth not the property thereto given, for itself alone, but for the profit of all the other membres. So that if there come any good to any one member alone, it helpeth all the whole body. And may the compaction or knitting of Nature do more in the body of a beast, that shortly must perish, than the couping of the holy ghost in the mystical and immortal body of the church? Do we frustrately bid this prayer taught us by Christ: 
Mat. 6.  Good lord even as thy will is fulfilled in heaven, so let it be fulfilled in the earth. In that city of heaven is concord and peace most perfect. And Christ would his church to be none other, than a heavenly people in earth, as near as might be after the manner of them that are in heaven, ever labouring & making haast to go thither, and all ways having their mind thereon.  
¶ Now go to, let us imagen, that there should come some new guest out of the lunary cities, where Empedocles dwelleth, or else out of the innumerable worlds, that Democritus forged, in to this world, desiring to know what the inhabitants do here. And when he were instructed of every thing, it should at last be told him, that besides all other, there is one creature maruaylousely mingled, of body like to brute bestis, & of soul like unto god. And it should also be told him, that this creature is so noble, that tough he be here an outlaw out of his own country, yet are all other beasts at his commandment, the which creature through his heavenly beginning inclineth always to things heavenly and immortal. And that god eternal loved this creature so well, that where as he could neither by the gifts of nature, nor by the strong reasons of philosophy attain unto that which he so fervently desired, he sent hither his only begotten son, to the intent to teach this creature a new kind of learning. Then as soon as this new guest had perceived well the hole manner of Christ's life and precepts, would desire to stand in some high place, from whence he might behold that that he had hard. And when he should see all other creatures soberly live according to their kind, & being led by the laws and course of nature, desired nothing but even as nature would: and should see this one special creature man given ryottously to tavern haunting, to vile lucre, to buying and selling, chopping & changing, to brawling and fighting one with another, trow ye that he would not think that any of the other creatures were man, of whom he hard so moche of before, rather than he that is in deed man? Than if he that had instructed him afore, would show him, which creature is man: now would he look about to see if he could spy the christian flock and company, the which following the ordinance of that heavenly teacher Christ, should exhibit to him a figure or shape of the angelical city. Think ye he would not rather judge christians to dwell in any other place, then in those countrayes, wherein we see so great superfluite, riot, voluptuousenesse, pride, tyranny, discord, brawlings, fightings, wars, rufflings, ye and breffelye to speak, a greater puddle of all those things that Christ reproveth: then among Turks or Saracens? From whence then creepeth this pestilence in among christian people? Doubtless this mischief also is come in by little and little, like as many more other be, ere men be ware of them. For truly every mischief creepeth by little and little upon the good manners of men, or else under the colowr of goodness it is suddenly received.  
¶ So than first of all learning and cunning 
Erudi●●  crept in as a thing very meet to confound heretics, which defend their opinions with the doctrine of philosophers, poetis, and orators. And surely at the beginning of our faith, christian men did not learn those things, but such as peraventure had learned them, before they knew what Christ meant, they turned the thing that they had learned all ready, in to good use.  
¶ Elouqence of tongue was at the beginning dissembled more than despised, but at length it was openly approved. After that under colour of confounding heretics, came in an ambitious pleasure of brawling dispiteous, which hath brought in to the church of Christ no small mischief. At length the matter went so far forth, that aristotel was all together received into the middle of divinity, & so received, that his authority is almost reputed holier than the authority of Christ. For if Christ spoke any thing that did little agree with our life, by interpretation of aristotel it was leeful to make it serve their purpose. But if any do never so little repugn against the high dyvinytie of Aristoteli, he is quickly with clapping of hands driven out of the place. For of him we have learned, that the felicity of man is unperfect, except he have both the good gifts of body and of fortune. Of him we have learned, that no common weal may flourish, in which all things are common. And we endeavour ourself to glue fast together the decretes of this man and the doctrine of Christ: which is as likely a thing as to mingle fire and water together. And a gobbet we have received of the civil laws, because of the equity, that seemeth to be in them: And to th'end they should the better serve our purpose, we have as near as may be, writhed and plied the doctrine of the gospel to them. Now by the civil law it is leeful for a man to defend violence with violence, and each to pursue for his right. Those laws approve bienge and selling: they allow usury, so it be measurable, they praise war as a noble thing, so it be just. Finally all the doctrine of Christ is so defiled with the learning of Logiciens, sophisters, astronomers, orators, poetis, philosophers, laweyrs, and gentiles, that a man shall spend the most part of his life, ere he may have any leisure to search holy scripture, to the which when a man at last cometh, he must come infect with so many worldly opinions, that either he must be offended with Christ's doctrines, or else he must apply them to the mind & doctrine of them that he hath learned before. And this thing is so much approved, that it is now a heinous deed, if a man presume to study holy scripture, which hath not nosilled himself up to the hard ears in those trifils, or rather sophestries of Aristotle. As though Christis doctrine were such, that it were not leeful for all men to know it, or else that it could by any means agree with the wisdom of philosophers. Beside this we admitted at the beginning of our faith some honour, which afterward we claimed as of duite. Than we received riches, but that was to distribute to relieve poor men, which afterward we turned to our own use. And why not, sith we have learned by the law civil, that the very order of charity is, that every man must first provide for himself? Nor there lack no colours to cloak this mischief: first it is a good deed to provide for our children: and it is right that we foresee how to live in age. Finally, why should we, say they, give our goods away, if we come by them without fraud? By these grices it is by little and little come to pass, that he is taken for the most best man, that hath most riches: nor never was there more honour given to riches among the heathen people, then is at this day among the christian people. For what thing is there either spiritual or temporal, that is not done with great show of riches? And it semedde a thing agreeable with those ornamentis, if christian men had some great jurisdiction under them. Nor there wanted not such, as gladly submitted them lelse. Albeit at the beginning it was against their wills, and scantly would they receive it. And yet with moche work, they received it so, that they were content with the name and title only: the profit thereof they gladly gave unto other men. At the last by little and little it came to pass, that a bishop thought himself no bishop, except he had some temporal lordship withal. An abbot thought himself of small authority, if he had not where with to play the lordly sire. And in conclusion, we blushed never a deal at the matter, we wiped away all shamefastness, & shoft a side all the harres of comeliness. And what ever abusion was used among the heathen people, were it covetousness, ambition, riot, pomp, or pride, or tyranny, the same we follow, in the same we match them, ye and far pass them. And to pass over the lighter things for the while, I pray you, was there ever war among the heathen people so long continually, or more cruelly, than among christian people? What stormy rumblings, what violente braydes of wars, what tearing of leagues, and what piteous slaughters of men have we seen ourself within these few years? What nation hath not fought and skyrmoushed with an other? And then we go and curse the Turk, and what can be a more pleasant sight to the Turks, then to behold us daily each slaying other?  
¶ Xerxes doted, when he led out of his own country that huge multitude of people to make war upon the Greeks. Trow ye, he was not mad, when he wrote letters to the mountain called Atho, threatening that the hill should repent it, except he obeyed his lust: And the same Xerxes commanded also the see to be beaten, because it was somewhat rough when he should have sailed over.  
¶ Who will deny but Alexander the great was mad also? He the young god wished, that there were many worlds, the which he might conquer. So great a fever of vain glory had embraced his young lusty courage. And yet these same men, the which Seneca doubted not to call mad thieves, warred after a gentyller fashion than we do, they were more faithful of their promise in war, nor they used not so mischievous engines in war, nor such crafts and subtleties, nor they warred not for so light causes as we christian men do. They rejoiced to advance and enrich such provinces as they had conquered by war, and the rude people, that lived like wild beasts without laws, learning, or good manners, they taught them both civil conditions, and crafts, where by they might live like men. In countries that were not inhabited with people, they builded cities, and made them both fair and profitable. And the places that were not very sure, they fenced for safeguard of the people with bridges, banks, bulwarks, and with a thousand such other commodities they holp the life of man. So that then it was right expedient to be over come. Ye and how many things read we, that were either wisely done, or soberly spoken of them in the mids of their wars. As for those things, that are done in christian men's wars they are more filthy & cruel than is convenient here to rehearse. More over look what was worst in the heathen people's wars, in that we follow them, ye we pass them.  
¶ But now it is a world to here, by what means we meyntayne this our so great madness. Thus they reason. If it had not been leeful by no means to make war, surely god would never have been the author to the jews to make war against their ennemes. Well said, but we must add hereunto, that the jews never made war among themself, but against strangers and wicked men. We, christian men, fight with christian men. diversity of religion caused the jews to fight against their enemies: for their enemies worshypte not god as they did. We make war often times for a little childish anger, or for hunger of money, or for thirst of glory, or else for filthy meed. The jews fought by the commandment of god, we make war to avenge the grief and displeasure of our mind. And nevertheless if men will so much lean to the example of the jews, why do we not than in like manner use circumcision? Why do we not sacrifice with the blood of sheep and other beasts? Why do we not abstain from swines flesh? Why doth not each of us wed many wives? Sith we abhor those things, why doth the example of war please us so much? Why do we here follow the bare letter that killeth? It was permitted the jews to make war, but so like wise as they were suffered to departed from their wives, doubtless because of their hard & froward manners. But after Christ commanded the sword to be put up, it is unleeful for christian men, to make any other war but that which is the most fairest war of all, with the most eager & fierce enemies of the church, with affection of money, with wrath, with ambition, with dread of death. These be our philisteins, these beour Nabughodosor, these be our Moabitis and Ammonitis, with the which it behoveth us to have no truce. With these we must continually fight, until (our enemies being utterly vanquished) we may be in quiette, for except we may overcome them, there is no man that may attain to any true peace, neither with himself, nor yet with none other. For this war alone is cause of true peace. He that overcometh in this battle, will make war with no man living. Nor I regard not the interpntation, that some men make of the two sword to signify either power spiritual & temporal. When Christ suffered Peter to err purposely, that after he was commanded to put up his sword, no man should doubt, but that war was forbode, which before seemed to be leeful. But Peter (say they) fought. True it is, Peter fought, he was yet but a jew, and had not the spirit of a very christian man. He fought not for his lands, or for any such titles of lands as we do, nor yet for his own life, but for his masters life. And finally, he fought, the which within a while after forsook his master. Now if men will needs follow the example of Peter that fought, why mow they not as well follow the example of him forsaking his master? And though Peter through simple affection erred, yet did his master rebuke him. For else, if Christ did allow such manner of defence, as some most knavishly do interpretate, why doth both all the life and doctrine of Christ preach none other thing but sufferance? Why sent he forth his disciples against tyrants armed with nothing else but with a walking staff and a scrip. If that sword, which Christ commanded his disciples to sell their coats to buy, be moderate defence against persecutors, like as some men do not only wickedly but also blyndlye interpretate, why did the martyrs never use that defence? But (say they) the law of nature commandeth, it is approved by the laws, and allowed by custom, that we ought to put of from us violence by violence, and that each of us should defend his life, and eke his money, when the money (as Hesiodus saith) is as lose as the life. All this I grant, but yet grace, the law of Christ, that is of more effect than all these things, commandeth us, that we should not speak ill to them, that speak shrewedly to us: that we should do well to them, that do ill to us, and to them that take away part of our possessions, we should give the whole: and that we should also pray for them, that imagine our death. But these things (say they) appertain to the apostolles, ye they appertain to the universal people of Christ, & to the hole body of Christ's church, that must needs be a whole and a perfect body, all though in their gifts one member is more excellent than an other. To them the doctrine of Christ appertaineth not, that hope not to have reward with Christ. Let them fight for money and lordships, that laugh to scorn the saying of Christ: Blessed be the poor men in spirit: that is to say, be they poor or rich, blessed be they, that coveted no riches in this world. They that put all their felicity in these richessis, they fight gladly to defend their life, but they be those that understand not this life to be rather a death, nor they perceive not, that everlasting life is prepared for good men. Now they lay against us, divers bishops of Rome, the which have been both auctors and aydours of warring. True it is, some such there have been, but they were of late, & in such time as the doctrine of Christ waxed cold. Ye & they be very few in comparison of the holy fathers that were before them, which with their writings persuade us to flee war. Why are these few examples most in mind? Why turn we our eyes from Christ to men? And why had we rather follow the uncertain examples, than the authority that is sure & certain? For doubtless the bishops of Rome were men. And it may be right well, that they were either fools, or ungracious caitiffs. And yet we ●inde not that any of them approved, that we should still continually war after this fashion as we do. Which thing I could with argumentis prove, if I lifted to digress & tarry thereupon.  
¶ Sayncte barnard praised warriors, but he so praised them, that he condemned all the manner of our warfare. And yet why should the saying of saint barnard, or the dyspition of Thomas of Alquine mo●e me rather then the doctrine of Christ, which commandeth, that we should in no wise resist jewel, specially under such manner as the common people do resist?  
¶ But it is leeful (say they) that a trangressour be punished and put to death according to the laws: then is it not leeful for a hole country or city to be revenged by war? What may be answered in this place, is longer than is convenient to reply. But this moche will I say, there is a great difference. For the evil doer found faulty and convict, is by authority of the laws put to death. In war there is neither part with out fault. Where as one singular man doth offend, the punishment falleth only on himself: & the example of the punishment doth good unto all other. In war the most part of the punishment and harms fall upon them that least deserved to be punynyshed: that is upon husband men, old men, honest wives, young children, and virgins. But if there may any commodity at all be gathered of this most myscheffull thing, that all together goth to the behove of a certain most vengeable thieves, hired soldiers, and strong robbers, & perhaps to a ●ewe captains, by whose craft war was raised for that intent, and with which the matter goeth never better, then when the common weal is in most high jeopardy and peril to be lost. There as one is for his offence grievously punished, it is the wealthy warning of all other: where as in war to th'end to revenge the quarrel of one, or else paraventure of a few, we cruelly afflict and grieve so many thousands of them that nothing deserved. It were better lea●e the offence of a few unpunished, then whiles we seek occasion to punish one or two, to bring in to assured peril and danger, both our neighbours and innocent enemies (we call them our enemies, though they never did us hurt) and yet are we uncertain, whether it shall fall on them or not, that we would have punished. It is better to let a wound alone, that can not be cured without grievous hourte and danger of all the whole body, then go about to heal it.  
¶ Now if any man will cry out and say: It were against all right, that he that offendeth, should not be punished. Here unto I answer, that it is much more against all right and reason, that so many thousands of innocentes should be brought into extreme calamity and mischief without dese●●ynge. Albeit now adays we see, that almost all wars spring up I can not tell of what titles, and of leagues between princes, that whiles they go about to subdue to their dominion some one town, they put in jeopardy all their whole empire. And yet within a while after they sell or give a way the same a town again, that they got with shedding of so much blood.  
¶ peradventure some man will say: wouldst not have princes fight for there right? I know right well, it is not meet for such a man as I am, to dispute over boldylye of princes matters, and thought I might do it without any danger, yet is it longer than is convenient for this place. But this much will I say, If each what so ever title be a cause convenient to go in hand with war: there is no man that in so great alterations of men's affairs, & in so great variety, & cha●ges, can want a title. What nation is there that hath not sometime be put out of their own country, and also have put other out? How oft have people gone from one country to an other? How oft have whole empires been translat from one to an other either by chance or by league? Let the citizens of Padu● claim now again a god's name the country of Troy for theirs, because Antenor was sometimes a Trojan. Let the Romans now hardly clayne again Affrycke and Spain, because those pro●ynces were sometime under the Romans. We call that a dominion, which is but an administration. The power and authority over men, which be free by Nature, & over brute beasts, is not all one. What power and souerayn●e so ever you have, you have it by the consent of the people. And if I be not deceived, he that hath authority to give, hath authority to take away again. Will ye see how small a matter it is that we make all this ruffling fore. The strife is not, whether this city or that should be obeisant to a good prince, and not in bondage of a Tyrant, but whether Ferdinand or Sigismunde hath the better title to it: whether that city ought to pay tribute to Philip or to king Lewes. This is that noble right, for the which all the world is thus vexed and troubled with wars & manslaughter.  
¶ Yet go to, suppose that this right or title be as strong, and of as great authority as may be, suppose also there be no difference between a private field and a whole city: & admit there be no difference between the beasts that you have bought with your money & men, which be not only fire, but also true christians: yet is it a point of a wise man to cast in his mind, whether the thing that you will war fore, be of so great valour, that it will recompense the exceeding great harms and loss of your own people. If ye can not do in every point as be cometh a prince, yet at the least ways do as the merchant man doth: he setteth nought by that loss, which he well perceiveth can not be avoided without a greater lo●se, and he reckoneth it a winning, that fortune hath been against him with his so little loss. or else at the least wise follow him, of whom there is a merry tale commonly told.  
¶ There were two kinsmen at variance about dividing of certain goods, and when they could by no means agree, they must go to law together, that in conclusion the matter might be ended by sentence of the judges. They got them attorneys, the pleas were drawn, men of law had the matter in hand, they came before the judges, the complaint was entered, the cause was pletid, and so was the war begun between them.  
Anon one of them remembing himself, called aside his adversary to him and said on this wise. first it were a great shame, that a little money should desever us twain, whom nature hath knit so near together. Secondly the end of our strife is uncertain, no less then of war. It is in our hands to begin when we will, but not to make an end. All our strife is but for an hundred crowns, and we shall spend the double thereof upon notaries, upon promoters, upon advocates, upon attorneys, upon inges, and upon inges friends, if we try the law to the uttermost. We must wait upon these men, we must flatter and speak them fair, we must give them rewards. And yet I speak not of the care and thought, nor of the great labour and travail, that we must take to run about here and there to make friends, and whether of us both that wynnth the victory, shallbe sure of more incommodity than proite. Wherefore if we wise be, let us rather see to our own profit, and the money that shall be jewel bestowed upon these bribers, let us divide it between us twain. And forgive you the half of that ye think should be your duite, and I will forgive as much of mine. And so shall we keep and preserve our friendship, which else is like to perish, and we shall also eschew this great business, cost, & charge. If you be not content to forego any thing of your part, I commit the whole matter in to your own hands, do with it as you will. For I had leaver my friend had this money, than those unsatiable thieves. Me think I have gained enough, if I may save my good name, keep my friend, and avoid this unquiet and chargeable business. Thus partly the telling of the troth, and partly the merry conceit of his kinsman, moved the other man to agree. So they ended the matter between themself, to the great displeasure of the judges and seriantes, for they like a sort of gaping ravens, were deluded and put beside their pray.  
¶ Let a prince therefore follow the wisdom of these two men, specially in a mat-of moche more danger. Nor let him not regard what thing it is, that he would obtain, but what great loss of good things he shall have, in what great jeopardies he shall be, & what miseries he must endure, to come thereby. Now if a man will weigh, as it were in a pair of balance the commodities of wa● on the one side, & the incommodities on the other side, he shall find that uninste peace is far better than righteous war. Why had we rather have war then peace?  
Who but a mad man wool angle with a golden fish hook? If ye see that the charges and expenses shall amount far above your gain, ye though all things go according to your mind, is it not better that ye forego part of your right, than to buy so little commodity with so innumerable mischiefs? I had liefer that any other man had the title, than I should win it with so great effusion of Christian men's blood. He (what so ever he be) hath now been many years in possession. He is accustomed to rule, his subjects know him, he behaveth him like a prince, & one shall come forth, which finding an old title in some histories, or in some blind evidence will turn clean up set down the quiet state and good order of that comen weal. What availeth it with so great ruffeling to change any title, which in short space by one chance or other must go to an other man? Specially sith we mow see, that there is nothing in this world, that doth continued still in one state, but at the scornful pleasure of fortune they rol to & fro, as the waves of the see. Finally if Christian men can not despise and set at naught these so light things, yet whereto needeth it by and by to run to harness? Sith there be so many bishops, men of great gravity and learning: sith there be so many venerable abbots: sith there be so many noble men of great ancienty, whom long use and experience of things hath made right wise. Why are not these trifling & childish quarrels of princes pacified and set in order by the wisdom and discretion of these men? But they seem to make a very honest reason of war, which pre●end as they would defend the Church. As though the people were not the church, or as though the church of Christ was be●un, augmented, and established with wars and slaughters, and not rather in spilling of the blood of martyrs, sufferance, and despising of this life, or as though the whole dignity o● the church re●ted in the riches of the priests. Nor to me truly it seemeth not so allowable, that we should so oft make war upon the Turks. Doubtless it were not well with christian religion, if the only safeguard thereof should depend on such succours. Nor it is not likely, that they should be good christians, that by these means are brought thereto at the first. For that thing that is got by war, is again an other time lost by war. wol ye bring the Turks to the faith of Christ? Let us not make a show of our gay riches, nor of our great number of soldiers, nor of our great strength. Let them see in us none of these solemn titles, but the assured tokens of christian men, a pure innocent life, a fervent desire to do well, yea to our very ennemes, the despising of money, the neglecting of glory, a poor simple life. Let them here the heavenly doctrine agreeable to such a manner life. These are the b●st armours to subdue the Turks to Christ. Now often times we being ill, fight with the evil. Ye and I shall say an other thing (Which I would to god were more boldly spoken then truly) if we set a side the title and sign of the Cross, we fight Turk's against Turks. If our religion were first stablished by the might and strength of men of war, if it were confirmed by dent of sword, if it were augmented by war, then let us maintain it by the same means and ways. But if all things in our faith were brought to pass by other means. Why do, we than (as we mistrusted the help of Christ) seek such succour as the heathen people use. But why should we not (say they) kill them that would kill us? So think they it a great dishonour, if other should be more michivous than they. Why do ye not then rob those, that have rob you before? Why do ye not scold and chide at them that rail at you? Why do ye not hate them that hate you? Trow ye it is a good christian man's deed to slay a Turk? For be the Turks never so wicked, yet are they men, for whose salvation Chri●te suffered death. And killing Turks we offer to the devil most pleasant sacrifice, and with that one deed we please our enemy the devil twice, first because a man is slain, and again, because a christian man slew him. There be many, which desiring to seem good christian men, study to hurt and grieve the Turks all that ever they may: & where they be not able to do nothing, they curse and ban, and bid a mischief upon them. Now by the same one point a man may perceive, that they be far from good christian men. Secure the Tourkes, and where they be wicked, make them good if ye can, if ye can not, wish and desire of god they may have grace to turn to goodness. And he that thus doth, I will say doth like a christian man. But of all these things I shall entreat more largely, when I set forth my book entitled Antipolemus, which whilom when I was at Rome I wrote to july bishop of Rome, the second of that name, at the same time, when he was counseled to make war on the Venetians.  
¶ But there is one thing, which is more to be lamented then reasoned: That if a man would diligently discuss the matter, he shall find, that all the wars among us christian men do spring either of foolishness, or else of malice. Some young men without experience, inflamed with the evil example's of their fore fathers, that they find by reading of histories, written of some foolish auctors, & beside this being mo●ed with the exhortations of flatterers, with the instigation of lawyers, and assenting thereto of the di●ynes, the bishops winking thereat, or peradventure enticing thereunto: have rather of foolehardynes then of malice, gone in hand with war: And with the great hurt & damage of all this world they learn, that war is a thing, that should be by all means and ways fled and eschewed. Some other are moved by pri●y hatred, Ambition causeth some, and some are stirred by fyrcenes of mind to make war. For truly there is almost now none other thing in our cities and common weals, then is contained in Homer's work Ilias, The wrath of undiscrete princes & people.  
¶ There be which for none other cause move War, but to th'intent they may by that mean the more easily exercise tyranny on their subiectis. For in the time of peace, the authority of the counsel, the dignity of the rulers, the vigour and strength of the laws, do somewhat let, that a prince can not do all that him listeth: But as soon as war is once begun, now all the handling of matters resteth in the pleasure of a few persons. They that the prince favoureth are lifted up aloft: and they that be in his displeasure, go down. They exact as much money as pleaseth them. What need many words? Then they think themself, that they be the greatest princes of the world. In the mean season the capitains they sport and play together, till they have gnawn the poor people to the hard boonis. And think ye that it will grieve them, that be of this mind, to enter lightly in to war, when any cause is offered? Besides all this, it is a world to see by what means we colour our fault. I pretend the defence of our religion, but my mind is to get the great riches that the Turk hath. Under colour to defend the churches right, I purpose to revenge the hatred that I have in my stomach. I incline to ambition, I follow my wrath, my cruel fierce and unbridled mind compelleth me, and yet will I find a cavillation and say, the league is not kept, or friendship is broken, or some thing (I wot not what myself) concerning the laws of matrimony is omitted. And it is a wonder to speak, how they never obtain the self thing, that they so greatly desire. And whiles they foolishly labour to eschew this mischief, or that, they fall in to an other much worse, or else into the same. And surely if desire of glory causeth them thus to do, it is a thing much more magnificent and glorious to save then to destroy: much more gay and goodly to build a cite, than to over throw and destroy a city.  
¶ furthermore admit that the victory in battle is got most prosperously, yet how small a portion of the glory shall go unto the prince? The commons will claim a great part of it, by the help of whose money the deed was done, outlandish soldiers, that are hired for money, will challenge moche more than the commons: The captains look to have very moche of that glory, and fortune most of all, which striking a great stroke in every matter, in war may do most of all. If it come of a noble courage and stout stomach, that you be moved to make war: see I pray you, how far wide be ye from your purpose? For whiles ye will not be seen to bow to one man, as to a prince your neighbour, & peradventure of your alliance, & which may fortune hath done you good: how moche more abjectly must ye bow yourself, what time ye seek aid and help of barbarous people, ye and that is more unworthy, of such men as are defiled with all mischievous deeds, if we must needs call such kind of monsters men? Whiles ye go about to allure unto you with fair words and promises, ravishers of virgins and of religious women, menkyllers, stout robbers and rovers (for these be the special men of war). And whiles you labour to be some what cruel and superior over your equal, you are constrained to submit yourself to the very dregs of all men living. And whiles ye go about to drive your neighbour out of his land, ye must needs first bring into your own land the most pestilent puddle of unthrifts that can be. You mistrust a prince of your own alliance, and will you commit yourself wholly to an armed multitude? How moche surer were it to commit yourself to concord?  
¶ If ye will make war because of lucre, take your countours and cast: And I will say, it is better to have war than peace, if ye find not, that not alonely less, but also uncertain winning is got with inestimable costis.  
¶ Ye say ye make war for the safe guard of the common weal, ye but no way sooner nor more unthryftyly may the common weal perish, then by war. For before ye enter into the field, ye have already hurt more your country, than ye can do good getting the victory. Ye have wasted the citizens goods, ye fill the houses with lamentation, ye fill all the contrary with thieves, robbers, and ra●yshers. For these are the relics of war. And where as before ye might have enjoyed all France, ye shift ourself besides many regions thereof. If ye love your own subjects truly, why revolve you not in mind these words. Why shall I put so many, in their lusty flourishing youth, in all michefes & perils? Why shall I depart so many honest wives & their husbands, and make so many fatherless children? Why shall I claim a title I know not, & a doubtful right, with spilling of my subjects blood? We have seen in our time, that in war made under colour of defence of the church, the priests have been so often pilled with demes, that none enemy might do more. So that while we go about foolishly to eschew falling in the ditch, we willingly leap headlong into the ditch, while we can not suffer a light injury, we afflict ourself with most grievous despites. While we be ashamed of gentleness to dough to a prince, we be fain to please people mos●̄ base. Whiles we undescretelye covet liberty, we entangle ourself in most grievous bondage. Whiles we hount after a little lucre, we grieve ourself and ours with inestimable harms. It had been a point of a prudent christian man (if he be a true christian man) by all manner means to have fled, to have shoned, and by prayer to have withstanden so fendly a thing, and so far both from the life and doctrine of christ. But if it can by no mean be eschewed, by reason of the ungraciousness of many men, when ye have assayed every way, and that ye ha●e for peace sake, left nothing unsought up, than the next way is, that ye do your diligence: that so ill a thing may be gested and done by them that be ill, and that it be achieved with as little effusion of man's blood as can be.  
Now if we endeavour us to be the self same thing, that we here ourself called, that is, good christian men, we shall little esteem any worldly thing, nor yet ambitiously covet any thing of this world. For if we set all our mind, that we may lightly and purely part hence, if we incline holly to heavenly things, if we py●che all our felicity in Christ alone, if we believe all that is truly good, truly gay and glorious, truly joyful, to remain in Christ alone, if we thoroughly think that a godly man can of no man be hurt, if we ponder how vain and vanishing are the scornful things of this world, if we inwardly behold, how hard a thing it is for a man to be in a manner transformed in to god, and so here with continual and unfatigable meditation to be purged from all infections of this world, that within a while the husk of this body being cast of, it may pass hence to the company of angels, finally if we surely have these three things, with out which none is worthy of the name of a christian man, Innocency, that we may be pure from all vicis, Charity, that we may do good as near as we can, to every man, Patience, that we may suffer them that do us ill, and if we can with good deeds overcome wrongs to us done: I pray you, what war can there be among us for triffils? If it be but a tale that is told of Christ, why do we not openly put him out of our company? Why should we glory in his title? But if he be, as he is in very deed, the true way, the very Truth, and the very life, why doth all the manner of our living differre so far asunder, from the true example of him? If we acknowledge and take Chri●te for our author, which is very charity, and nothe● taught nor gave other thing but charity and peace, then go to, let us not in titles and signs, but in our deeds and living plainly express him. Let us have in our hearts a fervent desire of peace, that Christ may again know us for his. To this intent the princes, the prelate's, and the cities and commonalties should apply their counsels. There hath been hither to enough spilt of christian man's blood. We have showed pleasure enough to the ennemes of christian religion. And if the common people, as they ar● wont, make any ruffling, let the princes bridle and quail them, which princes ought to be the self same thing in the common weal, that the eye is in the body, and the reason in the school. Again if the princes make any trouble, it is the part of good prelatis by their wisdom and granite to pacify and suage such motions. or else at the least we being satiat with continual wars, let the desire of peace a little mo●e us. The very misery and wretchedness of war draweth us to peace, Christ enticeth us, The bishop exhorteth us, if ever any bishop did, Leo the tenth doth, which occupieth the ●owme of our peaceable Solomon. For all his desire, all his intent and labour, is for this intent, that they whom one common faith hath coupled together, should be joined in one common concord. He laboureth that the church of Christ should florsshe, not in riches or ●ordshyps, but in her own proper virtues. Surely this is a right goodly act, and well dreaming a man descended of such a noble lineage as Medici's: by whose civil prudence the noble cite of Florence moo●te freshly flourished in long continual peace: the whose house of Medici's hath been a help unto all good letters. Leo himself having alway a sober and a gentle wit, giving him ●elfe from his tender youth to good letters of humanity, was ever brought up as it were in the lap of the Musis among men must highly learned, he ●o faultless led his life, that even in the city of Rome, where is mo●t liberty of vice, was of him none evil rumour, and so governing himself came to the dignity to be bishop there, which dignity he never coveted, but was chosen thereto when he left thought thereon, by the provision of god to help to redress things in great decay by long wars. Let july the bishop have his glory of war, victories, and of his great triumphs. The which how evil they beseem a chri●ten bishop, it is not for such one as I am to declare. I will this say, his glory, what so ever it be, was mixed with the great destruction & grievous sorrow of many a creature. But by peace restored now to the world, Leo shall geatte more true glory, than july won by so many wars that he either, boldly begun, or prosperously fought and achieved.  
¶ But they that had leaver here of proverbs, then either of peace or of war, will think that I have tarried longer about this digression: then is meet for the declaration of a Proverb.  
FINIS.   

☞ Thomas Berthelet regius impressor excudebat. An. 1534.  
CUM PRIVILEGIO.